#[ Hungry Like The Wolf ; Werewolf AU ]

[livesincerely]

possessive davey? a little snippet mayhaps?

“You don’t understand,” Davey says, and his words distort and echo, like a thousand voices speaking at once. “You might think you do, you might dabble in it, but my kind invented possession. So, don’t say you know what it feels like—you have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He leans closer, close enough that they could be kissing, but instead they’re panting against each other’s mouths, breathing as one.

“Because I would carve my name into your bones, Jack Kelly,” Davey says, as fierce as any threat and as solemn as a vow. “I would hold your beating heart in my hands. I would sink into your skin, settle into your veins, and make a home in your blood for the rest of eternity.”

“Oh, god,” Jack breathes, transfixed and overwhelmed and utterly reverent.

Davey cradles Jack’s face between his hands, his thumbs stroking gently over his cheeks. “Try again,” he murmurs softly.

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 20

(Jack is a Grey Wolf Werewolf and greatly enjoys both the hot savana and the cold mountains. He is considered to be more of a lone wolf because he grew up outside of the typical pack setting. At Night Raven, he is determined to try and make his own pack structure to fit into, so far Leona is the Alpha of that pack and Ruggie is the second in command Beta. Jack has zero issue taking orders from Leona so long as it is not too morally questionable, he still has his pride as one of the few in NRC with a strong moral compass.)

Warnings: Yandere, yandere relationships, Yandere behavior, platonic intended yanderes and romantic intended yanderes, Raffle-less madness ensues, facing trauma a bit too quickly and a bit too soon, protective behavior, territorial disputes, wishes, most named characters make an appearance, Harpies, Werewolf, Dragon, Nemean Lion, Gnoll, Shinigami, Hellcat, Naga, Genie,

~~~~~~~~

The morning carried on and eventually Idia, Ortho, and your usual Diasomnia guards accompanied you to where another Housewarden meeting was being held. The cycle was beginning over again and apparently Crowley was struggling to decide who would next be your appointed guards. Naturally, you wanted a say in the decision as you had yet to actually get a genuine choice before this point.

Entering the primary room Crowley used for meetings was quite normal for you, but what awaited you was something you didn't expect. Where you had been expecting Housewardens- those you had grown mostly accustomed to, there were several others present at the meeting. Countless eyes turned towards you and it only served to make you feel uncomfortable under such scrutiny. Oddly, you felt more stressed being observed by your classmates than you did when facing the Rat that targeted you.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Malleus growled, looking at the many faces you were now faced with. His tail came up to wrap around your leg, as if holding onto you somehow soothed the great Dragon enough to not snap beyond his indignant snarl.

"This, is a collection of everyone who could be chosen as guards for my dear little chick, (Y/n)! I neglected my duty to do another raffle in favor of addressing the issues of security for the Spelldrive Tournament, so I decided to have all Housewardens choose a student or a few students as their fellow guards. This way I can do the raffle now and everyone is already here."

You looked over the many students, glad you could name a few beyond the Housewardens. Those of Heartslabyul were easy to recognize and name, as you had already befriended the five that were present. Floyd, Jade, and Azul were also familiar faces to you, given the fact that you and Jade had started to form a friendship. Both dorm leaders from Scarabia were present. The several from Pomefiore were mostly recognizable, but you didn't really recognize the almost effeminate looking plant-man with Rook and Vil.

As you glanced over the groups, your eyes came to a sudden halt on the furred figure between Leona and Ruggie. Bright yellow eyes gleamed at you from a seemingly scowling muzzle. White fur and sharp teeth hidden behind a long snout.

The heavy and hungry sound of panting filled your ears as did the echoing and haunting sound of Wolf howls as you stared at the beast in front of you. It felt like you were placed right back in that forest, where every shadow was a Wolf snapping their fang filled maws at you.

Some part of you could recognize the glowing yellow eyes of the Wolf sitting before you, having seen him in the halls before. Unfortunately, most of your mind was reeling in panic as your hand unconsciously gripped at your recently healed thigh. Despite your basic desire to not judge any of these men too quickly, you took a hesitant step back and that small motion was enough to trigger a large response.

Malleus was quick to wind his tail up your body and practically flung you and Grim back into his arms, smoke rolling out of his mouth as he glowered at the Wolf. In response, the Wolf didn't seem aggressive or angry, he simply bowed his head and whined out a short sound while avoiding Malleus' gaze.

"Kingscholar, you brought a Wolf? Haven't the Wolves done enough to harm her?"

"Rich, coming from an overgrown Lizard. Jack asked that damned Crow to be included, I didn't choose him, but that sure as shit doesn't mean you can target my dorm."

Malleus turned an incredulous glare to Crowley who had been watching the interaction keenly. The Crow had indeed allowed Jack to be part of the guarding group to represent Savanaclaw. He had allowed it because Jack himself pleaded with the Crow to prove not all Werewolves were dangerous. Crowley had been dubious to the idea before Jack reminded him that all of Twisted Wonderland was watching Night Raven College and how they immersed the Human in a world of magic. If the Human hated Werewolves here, what would happen when the Human met a Werewolf outside of Night Raven?

To keep his own reputation- and the wellbeing of his little chick- in mind, Crowley decided Jack should be included. Of course, he figured that you would react negatively to the presence of a Werewolf given you were attacked by a pack of them. His hope was that Jack's affiliation with Leona would help sweeten the stress and help you accept the Werewolf.

"I allowed Jack to attend after his inquiry into the matter. If other species known for their conflict with Humanity are allowed, so too should the Werewolves."

Malleus looked like he was about to speak before the beast- Jack the Werewolf, as Crowley called him- spoke first.

"I will leave," he stood, his fluffy ears back and his head somewhat bowed, "I shouldn't have asked. It is far too soon to be pressing the matter like this, especially when it was my kind who attacked her."

Despite the genuine aversion you had to the presence of the Wolf, you felt worse seeing how dejected he looked. It became a battle inside of yourself with the fear of your recent injury pushing you back, and your desire to treat these men fairly pushing you forward.

"Don't," you almost had to gasp out due to your own fear trying to silence you, "don't go. I-" you took a breath to steady your frantic heart, "I don't want you to go."

"(Y/n), he is a Wolf. He is the same thing that stalks your nightmares. Do you truly need me to tell you of your own fears?"

"I shouldn't fear him. The Wolves that-" you held Grim a little tighter as the kit nuzzled your cheek to calm you, "that attacked us... They're gone. They're not coming back. I can't- I can't let myself be afraid of them all because a few bore their fangs. That isn't fair. Not to them, and not to me. It just isn't fair."

Malleus looked like he wanted to argue, his eyes narrowing as he looked at Jack and then back at you. Jack seemed to take this moment to speak up, careful to move slowly around you as you were clearly still wary and skittish around him. When you saw his drooped ears and almost begging eyes the image of the snarling Wolves began to dissolve, leaving behind a whimpering puppy. He was clearly no puppy- standing tall even among the other giants of the school- but he didn't have that same crazed look as the Pack had.

You tried to hold onto that mental image, wanting to treat this Wolf fairly but struggling to actually convince yourself of what you were saying. The battle was internal to see which won for your attention; the snarling Wolves or the whimpering Puppy.

"If... If it makes you feel more at peace, I am Domestic."

"No pride," Leona scoffed, "already rolling over to show your tummy, Jack?"

The Wolf frowned at Leona for this, but what Jack said caught your interest. What did he mean by Domestic?

"What?"

"Right," Jack scratched the back of his head in a stressed way, his ample fur fluffing out somewhat, "Domestics are members of the more beastly species that didn't grow up in their usual environment. Most Werewolves grow up with a Pack, moving when the pack moves and refusing any kind of excessive interacting with other species. I wasn't raised in a Pack. I'm Domestic."

Leona huffed again, his Lion ears angled back as he frowns at the Wolf. From what Jack told you, it helped somewhat to see him as a Wolf-dog, not a pure Wolf like that group had been. It was clear that a few of the others seemed to agree with Jack despite Leona's displeasure.

"... I feel like Jack should stay. He has a right like anyone else does. I won't lie and say I'm not afraid... I'm terrified. The howling... The fangs... The snarling..!"

You had to pause again to ground yourself, Grim doing an excellent job by giving you something to hold and cuddle for comfort. The little kit was clearly unsettled around Jack, but it was likely for the same reason as you due to the rather fresh memories of the Wolves. Still, the kit was of great comfort and you managed to get your breathing back under control, forcing down the tears that threatened to fall.

"I understand that I can't fear every member of a species because of what one group did, but I am still afraid. I think... I think some time around a Wolf that won't hurt me... that won't chase me like those Wolves did... It could be a good thing for me. Of course," you paused and looked back at the somewhat more hopeful Wolf, "only if Jack is okay with it. I don't want him to feel pressured into it if he doesn't want to. I would understand."

"... Truth is I feel like I have to do this, but not because anyone is making me. I know I wasn't one of the Werewolves that hurt you, but I do feel like I have a responsibility to prove not all of us are like that. I want to help, but I don't like that I scare you."

You just nodded mutely and Jack seemed more confident to take his place back with Leona and Ruggie. Despite your still present desire to run, you remained among the group, calming yourself as best you could. If you were going to survive in this world until the Ghosts found you a way back home, you needed to create and gain as many allies as you could. Jack included.

"Now that that's all sorted out," Crowley spoke, clapping his hands together, "let us get this meeting underway so you all can attend your classes. I forgot to do another raffle, so I figure that I can either choose a dorm for this week or we do the raffle now. I can think of several dorms that are more deserving than others- given the recent events- but another raffle is more fair. Thoughts?"

You were almost tempted to just tell Crowley you could choose for yourself, but before you could speak up, another voice cut in.

"The Spelldrive Tournament is soon. Whatever dorm is selected will have to balance having their Housewarden away and practicing for the tournament. Not that there's much competition for anything other than second place, Diasomnia will easily win with Malleus."

This interjection from Azul made the others glance around, but you were mostly lost. You didn't recognize this 'Spelldrive Tournament' and wondered what it was in the context of the conversation. From what Azul said, it seemed like a sports thing that the other dorms participated in and that Malleus was going to win if he played.

"Mr. Ashengrotto makes a valid point. (Y/n), due to the Spelldrive Tournament, you will likely have to stay in whatever dorm is selected so the Housewarden of the dorm can lead their team. I will be continuing my work on increasing security for the time being."

You wanted to yell at the Crow. Once again he was trampling over how you may feel on the matter and just telling you what to do as the situation came about. Despite your annoyance with him, you kept yourself contained as it sounded like the Housewardens were actually needed by their dorms outside of their appointed duty to guard you.

"Fine, but who is going to do all that? Why don't we just let a staff member keep an eye on me since everyone else is busy this week?"

"Nonsense! You should have someone who is a first year to help you in classes. Besides, they want to take guard duties. They wouldn't have all shown up this early if they didn't wish to be selected."

"Or you threatened them to show up-"

"Anyway, should I raffle this one or do you feel like choosing?"

You stayed silent for a moment, frowning at the Crow who seemed oblivious to your annoyance. Grim, however, was not nearly as thrown off as you were by the behavior of the Crow.

"I want to choose!"

"Works for me," you conceeded to the wishes of the little feline, rubbing his forehead affectionately, "why don't you choose, Grim? You've been a very good boy and I think you earned the right to choose."

The little Hellcat purred loudly in response to your praise, rubbing his head against your chin with a purr. You were preoccupied enough with Grim to not notice the many jealous looks he received from the several students stationed around you. Their eyes glued to how easily the small kit gained your attention and affections.

"I want Leona!"

"Really? Any particular reason why?"

"He isn't super nice, but he still saved you and me from those dumb Wolves. And if there's lots of strangers coming in for this spell thingy, I don't want to be by the forest..."

You felt Malleus growl more than heard him, the soft growl more telling than Malleus would ever be of his emotions. Slow rolling thunder caught your attention and you noticed the way the others became tense, glancing to Malleus.

"I think it is a good idea, Grim."

The immediate sound of an almost wounded cry left the Dragon, who now turned to you in stress and worry. He couldn't protect you as easily in the other dorm leader's domain. You would be mostly out of his reach and that thought alone set his own instincts ablaze in concern and fury. Not to mention Leona was clearly interested in you and had been there for you where Malleus had failed before.

It had the potential to drive him wild just thinking of such a thing.

"Malleus, it's fine. Leona can be trusted. He already saved my hide once, there's no harm in trusting him a second time."

"..."

The thunder was rolling angrily outside as a heavy wind hit against the walls of the school, growing louder as you turned your head to stare at him. There was no expression on his face but you could tell from the thunder he was upset.

"Malleus, do you trust me?"

The sudden question caught the Dragon off guard as he looked to you in utter confusion, tilting his head to the side. The thunder lulled to a soft rumble, wind slowing considerably as his blank expression turned to you. He blinked once before his eyes widened slightly, almost as if he were just now registering what you had asked.

"... What?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course, why would you feel the need to ask-?"

"Because you don't seem to be trusting me right now."

A hesitance overcame him as he somewhat pouted, crossing his arms and glancing away sullenly. His tail unravelled from your body and his wings drooped considerably. His expression was overcome with anger before smoothing again and he let out a long sigh.

"Trust you... Yes, I trust you. I am merely a call away, after all. And you will call on me if anything happens. I can... allow it. Kingscholar has proven himself a useful ally."

"Good. It's decided then."

"... Very well."

Malleus still seemed less than pleased, but the storm had stopped and his temper had considerably cooled. He was letting you go willingly and it frustrated him even more. The Dragon did take solace knowing you had the magestone on you, his own magestone suddenly becoming infinitely more useful to him beyond a comforting reminder of his mother.

You were glad to have calmed the Dragon enough to step away from him, noticing the way he seemed to be lost in thought now. The almost unaware way Malleus now behaved interested you, but you tried to not pay too much attention to him now he had calmed.

"Hey, Lion-guy-"

"You know my name is Leona, you cheeky cub."

"Yeah, Lion-a-guy, what is Savanaclaw like? Is there music? Oh! Can you all play the kind of music Mama likes?"

You laughed softly at this, kissing the well intended kit's forehead. A few of those in the room seemed surprised as Grim called you Mama- a newly formed habit of his after he awoke without you that morning- but you ignored the looks and snuggled the kit.

"I wish."

These two words caused an unusual response from two of those in the room. The two you were only vaguely familiar with reacted to your wistful words in usual ways. You had been introduced to them by Lilia when you had asked Silver to invite the dorm leaders of Scarabia the day prior. The Snake was Jamil Viper and the golden glowing one was a Genie named Kalim Al-Asim.

"Wish granted!"

Before you could move, a sudden golden glow came from one of Idia's many floating skulls, seeming to buzz and crackle for a moment before crashing to the ground. Idia seemed rather distressed as his one other skull bot hovered around him, the Shinigami stooping down to pick up the device before a lulling melodic tone came from it. It hummed gently and you quickly recognized the song as one you had listened to often prior to entering this world of monsters.

"Wait," you grabbed the device from the nervous Shinigami with one hand, Grim sitting up in your arm to look at the skull curiously, "I know that song!"

As the song continued, you somewhat felt a wash of relief overtake you. Part of you had mourned the loss of your music, knowing there was little chance this world had the same songs you enjoyed so much before you were thrown into it. Now it seemed this skull-bot of Idia's- which was glowing a gentle gold- seemed to fill that void you had been suffering.

"... One of his wishes worked?"

Jamil sounded completely incredulous as your turned to look at him, holding the device that must have been affected by Kalim's magic. The skull seemed to be intact despite the delicate wiring that went in to making it and even Kalim seemed surprised. That surprise quickly turned to excitement as he jumped up from his chair.

"I knew I could do it! Did you see, Jamil? Look! I did it and nothing bad happened!"

You were vaguely confused by Kalim's response to seeing his magic work to grant your wish and you wondered why he was so excited about it. Lilia had told you he was a Genie, so it would make sense that his wishes would work.

"Make another wish-!"

"No."

Jamil's tail suddenly wrapped around Kalim and cut him off, squeezing the grinning Genie tightly in the scales.

"Just because this one didn't end terribly, doesn't mean it won't suddenly explode later or the next one won't have dire consequences. (Y/n), I beg you, do not make a wish again. There's a reason Kalim isn't allowed to grant wishes and I would rather a wish he grants you doesn't end in your death."

You were surprised to hear the serious request from the frowning snake as he squeezed Kalim again. How could it be so bad when you were holding the result of a good wish? Maybe there was just something different about your wish that let it work this time?

"I'll hold onto it for now in case it does explode."

Idia said, lifting it out of your hand and moved away, despite how you tried to make a grab for it. He kept it out of your reach and you angrily huffed, holding onto Grim as you glared at the tall Shinigami.

"Sorry, HellKitty, I don't want you holding it when it explodes. Okay?"

"But if it doesn't explode in the next few days, I want it back. I already have so little from my home, I want my music."

"Promise I will return it once I make a few tweaks to keep it from exploding."

"... Fine."

Crowley seemed thrilled with this development as he clapped his hands, his feathers somewhat ruffled despite his smile.

"Wonderful! Now, you all should run off to class before they start. Remember, my little chick, you are staying in Savanaclaw until the Spelldrive Tournament, okay?"

You nodded and Leona sent a clear taunting grin towards Malleus as he stood up, resting his arm over your shoulders and began herding you towards the door. Ruggie and Jack followed, Jack keeping a bit more distance for your sake, as Malleus glared at the departing Lion. He had to remind himself that he could keep an eye on you with that Magestone hanging from your neck, and it would have to be enough for now.

Should that Lion try anything while you are in Savanaclaw, Malleus was sure to have a quick response against it. You were just glad to have a break from the ever doting Diasomnia. Maybe this would prove to be a good thing.

[sunshowersanddandelionwine]

au where the Riley family lives and simon gets into some Deep Shit™️ with some sort of group, whether it’s cartel or a terror org or what have you. And despite his and price’s and laswell’s best efforts, even the most privileged information eventually makes its way to the highest bidder. Which means that when this amorphous Group wants to hurt the ghost, they go after his most tender weak point.

They snatch Joseph Riley on his way home from school one day, and he’s terrified. He knows what his uncle does (vaguely and highly sanitized), enough for a kid his age to understand the gravity of the situation. So he has some idea of what’s about to happen.

Joseph doesn’t really have a good gauge on the passing of time, trapped in a dank, moldy cell in the ground with a single dirty window that doesn’t let in much light. The cuffs around his wrists are too tight, chafing against the thin skin. He’s hungry, thirsty, tired, but not scared. Okay, he’s a little scared but not as scared as he should probably be. Because he knows that come hell or high water, Uncle Simon is on his way.

That is, until the Group gets tired of waiting for Ghost to make a move and decide to send a message. They grab Joseph by the scruff and drag him out of the cell he’d memorized every inch of through the building. Joseph doesn’t know what’s happening, but whatever it is can’t be good.

And it isn’t. The door they come to is large, looks like it’s solid steel but with a weird sheen to it. There are claw marks digging into the frame and the ground. And a low, persistent growl echoes from behind the metal. Before Joseph can even think to speak, to beg for his life, one of the men unlocks the door, throws Joseph to the ground, and slams it shut behind him.

He falls in a crumpled heap, panting and coughing into the darkness around him. And then he freezes. Because the room is silent. The growl is gone. With the last bit of courage he has, he lifts his head from the dirty, iron-smelling floor and locks eyes with two bright blue irises glowing in the dark.

He’s heard stories of the wolves before, caught somewhere between man and monster. Some had come from Uncle Simon, some where rumors floated around school, some were just stories told to scare children. The stories all talked about the ferocious majesty of wolves, massive frames and thick fur and pearly white, razor sharp fangs.

This wolf is entirely unlike those stories. In the barely-there light leaking through the seam of the door, he can see just how bad the wolf is. His fur is ragged and hanging off his skeletal frame. Barely healed scars cut deep gouges into his face and flanks. And his eyes have no keen intelligence left, just base animal instinct. He’s watching Joseph silently, unmoving.

Joseph knows the wolf is starving, and he’s the unwilling lamb led to slaughter.

But the wolf doesn’t pounce. He inches forward, nosing gently at the bruises and scratches on Joseph’s face. He whines quietly when Joseph hisses from the movement. And he herds Joseph away from the door towards a tangled pile of dirty blankets and straw, curling around his shivering body with eyes pinned to the locked door.

Wolves are pack animals, and werewolves are no exception. When one werewolf soldier Sergeant MacTavish was drugged and captured, the Group thought they had themselves a mindless killing machine. They thought they could throw a child at a lonely, feral wolf and send the Ghost a gruesome message. They either didn’t know or didn’t care that pups, no matter the species, are precious to the pack. They gave Soap a pup, and he would protect that pup with his life.

(And when Ghost bursts into the cell not long after, blood soaked and wild eyed, he doesn’t expect to see his nephew, alive and relatively unharmed, with a massive guard dog curled around him. He doesn’t expect that guard dog to change back into a man. And he doesn’t expect that guard dog to stick around once he’s back on his feet, sticking to his side like he’s got no where better to be.)

[therealmintedmango]

Cerberus - Part Four

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual Romance/ Smut

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit

Words: 8,746

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Dark themes; Yandere Vibes; Blood; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Dark Dreams; Non-consensual touching/being touched without consent; Men who pray on women when they are vulnerable

Tag List: (Please notify me if you wish to be added/ no longer want to be apart of the tag list!) @openup-yourmind, @deeepvibes, @xxsunny-side-upxx, @heoniebaby @applelovesposts, (Sorry I've I've missed anyone! It's been awhile!)

Cerberus Playlist — Apple Music (Let me know if you have a good song to add to the playlist and I’ll chuck it in there!)

A frightened yell ripped through the large estate, shattering the peaceful, quiet evening like fragile glass thrown against a wall. The blood-curdling scream stopped all the brothers in their mundane tracks for the evening while they all were sitting in the parlor.

Taehyung flicked his paintbrush down on his wooden easel, flecks of green splattering across his canvas, a deep growl of confusion emitting from his throat. Hoseok snapped the book he was reading about hunting large game animals closed, eyes narrowing at the harrowing sound. An awful sour tone rang out, Yoongi’s long fingers slammed on the ivory keys of the piano as he stood abruptly.

A beat of silence ticked, stretching between the princes’, as realization set in.

“Little bird!” Seokjin yelped as he leapt from the news docket and the glass of brandy he was nursing all evening.

They take off into the house like dogs deep in the thick of the hunt. Their legs pushing into the carpet and marble of the home, scrambling for purchase against the ground. Snarls, whimpers, and growls echoed in the mansion as the brothers seemingly moved as one, thundering through their halls. The wolf-boys arms pushing them faster as their nails rake across wooden walls, shredding banisters in their wake. They feel like time is slowing, the clock is the enemy, pushing them back from the only thing they’ve cared about in what feels like ages.

In reality, they move like a flurry of hungry, wild beasts. The wolf brothers fly through their home with quick, superhuman strength. Worry and fright heighten their senses, a kaleidoscope of emotions changing every few milliseconds. 

They needed to get to her. They needed to race her. They yipped and groaned, pushing, clawing their way to her room. Their wolf blood pulsing and flowing with fear scorching through their human forms. 

Nails grew from deep within their human skin. Lips lifted, exposing their gleaming canines and bright pink gums as her room came into view. The prince’s wolf bodies rippled against the soft flesh of their mortal forms. The feral, wild hounds that they really are were threatening to escape as snarls and low growls toppled from their throats. 

Malice, violence, something benevolent they all think as they enter her room unannounced. They wanted to choke, maim, take pleasure in killing something that would hurt her…Make her scream like that.

Seokjin enters first, throwing the wooden doors open. Normally he would knock but he hasn’t a clear thought, wanting to know what or who could have made their little bird react the way she did. 

It’s eerie and quiet inside the guest living quarters. 

The younger princes’ enter next. They pant, shake and sputter, drinking in the smell of sharp terror that hangs heavy in the air of her lavish room. The fire in the hearth is out, moonlight pools through her windows creating a dim glow to cascade across the room…Their mate is passed out in a cold sweat in her bed…

And their youngest brother was in the corner of their room looking utterly ashamed.

A gust of melancholy October wind hit the house, the fallen leaves rustling on the ground and in the trees outside. The windows rattled, the panes shuttered against the cold breeze howling against the walls of the mansion. Silence coated the room, hanging in the still air was the chill of fear from their mate and the scent of shame wafting from Jungkook.

It took the wolf-boys a beat longer until it finally clicked. 

“What is wrong with you, Jungkook?” Seokjin remarks, lips peeling back, white teeth bared at the youngest brother. Rage flashing across his amber eyes. “Revealing your wolf form to her?”

“She was having a bad dream, hyung.” Jungkook sheepishly responded, shaking his head back and forth. “I wanted to be there for her when she woke up.” He bit his lip as he grabbed his cloak, covering his naked form. “She was terrified, hyung. I could smell it through the walls.” 

“Poor thing.” Hoseok cooed as he placed a cool hand across her blazing forehead. His amber eyes roamed over her still face, drinking in every inch of her flushed flesh.  Her hair pooled around her head on her pillow, wrapping herself in a halo of strands and tresses. Hoseok’s nostrils flared as his eyes reached her slightly parted mouth; her split lip she arrived with was almost completely healed. 

How badly did Hoseok wish to press his lips into hers... 

“What if she died on the spot, Jungkook?” Taehyung asked, standing next to Hoseok, watching her attentively. His voice shook with concern, his thick brows furrowed as he studied her like a beautiful painting. “She looks like she has seen a spirit!”

“I-I used my magic on her to make her forget seeing me and go back to sleep.” Jungkook then admitted in a soft, small voice. 

Seokjin gasped softly. 

Another egregious sin they were not supposed to use upon the poor mortal kind. Using their werewolf powers on a regular human was quite shameful. That was something that the creatures beyond the veil would do, nay, not the brothers that rule Bangtan. 

“Magic?” Seokjin snapped and Hoseok yelped at the same time, sharing a look of anger and dismay, respectfully. 

Yoongi heaved a heavy sigh, collapsing into a purple velvet armchair by the hearth of her fireplace. The second eldest licked the edges of his mouth, running his long fingers through his white hair in a defeated manner. “Jungkook, we cannot shift in the mansion. You know how we all feel about this.”

Jungkook couldn’t meet his older brother's amber glare. “I know, hyung. I just—“

Without even looking at him, Taehyung and Yoongi both emitted low, warning growls, their voices deep and huskiest of the brothers. It was quite a scary duo to witness. Jungkook froze, his amber eyes sliding to the ground in obedience.  

Pack order, as well as family dynamic, was something that was established, but changed from time to time. In this room right now, the order was Yoongi, Seokjin, Hoseok, Taehyung, then Jungkook. When all the princes were together, the order was usually eldest to youngest, though that was challenged by Taehyung and Namjoon often. However, Seokjin never failed to be at the top of the pecking order normally due to his birthright. 

“No ‘hyung’ this or that.” Yoongi snarled, head hanging as he rested his elbows on the tops of his thighs, speaking directly to the cold ground beneath his feet. “You shifted…then got scared when she screamed at the sight of your wolf form, so you made her pass back out with your magic!” He got up then, pounded over to the youngest brother and single handedly picked Jungkook up off the floor by his robes. “Why were you in her room in the first place, huh?” The second eldest’s eyes were ablaze, fury seeping out of his pores as he searched the youngest’s own fearful orbs. 

Yoongi had already reprimanded Namjoon today. Tensions were on high alert today because of that. He was so fond of all his kin, he hated being the villain, the bad part about their day. Seokjin and himself very much had to play parent because theirs have since passed. 

“I’m going utterly insane, hyung…” Was all Jungkook could muster before Yoongi let out another deep sigh, his free hand rifling through his white locks. 

“I know.” Yoongi admitted, releasing him gently. Yoongi agreed, solemnly nodding, the fire extinguishing from his words and his sunset colored eyes.  His gaze traveled to the lovely young lady in their guest room who they worshipped the ground she walked on.  His nostrils flared, “We all are, Jungkook…we all are.” 

———-

Soft, featherlight touches upon my cheek roused me from my slumber.  Though I remember fainting, I cannot recall why that occurred. Blinking slowly, I opened my eyes only to see rich amber-coloured orbs peering down at me in the flickering candlelight. Pushing the sheets away, I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my weary eyes. I wasn’t fully awake nor was I registering who was in my room with me in this present moment. The air around me was thick, laced with anticipation and it smelt of fresh linen and morning dew. I stopped moving at once and drank in the human sitting opposite of myself. 

Prince Jungkook.

My mind started to race with questions. Why was he here?  In my room? What time was it? His eyes widened as I stared at him. “Little bird-“

“Prince Jungkook.” I clutch the sheets to cover my chest, my cheeks flushing a bright red hue. Jungkook looked completely sheepish as an innocent gleam flashing across his amber eyes. “W-What are you doing here?” 

“I beg your pardon, my lady.” He sheepishly looked down and away from me. “One of the hunting dogs became loose in the castle, found its way into your room and gave you quite a scare.… I think.”  The youngest prince runs a hand through his curly, richly-colored locks, sliding his palm down to stroke the side of his neck. “I do not wish to frighten you or have you think ill of me, as I know a young lady should never be unattended without a chaperone…”  Jungkook turns the complete opposite direction of me, looking toward the foot of the bed. “It was my turn to put the hounds away and I utterly failed.” Jungkook solemnly looks out the window, his tone grim. “I’m deeply sorry, Y/N.” 

My heart cracks into little pieces.

Prince Jungkook reminds me of my brother Chan at this moment. So sweet and earnest, never truly meaning to harm anyone, a wash of teasing in his tone. He was all but sass and silliness, but he would never bite--lest not bite me.

My stomach lurches at the memory of my brother.  

I lightly touch Jungkook’s shoulder to steady my spiraling thoughts of my family I left not long ago. I lean into the young prince and whisper, “Do not feel ashamed, Prince Jungkook.” He whips his head back around to look at me with his bright, amber eyes. His lips part while his eyes appear glassy in the soft glow from the morning light flickering through the sheer curtains.   

Prince Jungkook opens and closes his mouth several times, reminiscent of a fish gasping for air once plucked from water. His amber eyes flit from my own eyes to my extended hand on his shoulder. Jungkook suddenly clears his throat and gets up off my bed in a fluid movement. He bows deeply and silently exits my room in the blink of an eye. 

And like the breathing out of a candle, he is gone in an instant. 

I look to the end of the bed, a small shudder skates down my spine, a chill of ice flows through my veins, my teeth chatter. That hound from last night was utterly frightening. Its glowing eyes, its huge body, curled up by my feet…I can still feel its eyes upon me, raking over my flesh as if it was cognizant, searching my features as if it was a real person…

“That’s impossible…” I whisper to myself, pulling the covers up over myself, turning to the other side of the plush bed. “A hound cannot possibly be a person!” A chuckle leaves my lips as I nod into my pillow, rationalizing that magic isn’t real and I should probably see a doctor before someone claims I am mad. “What utter nonsense.” 

-

“You' been having bad dreams, Miss?” Sophia asks me, worry clouding her features as she helps me get ready for the day. Lacy, Sophia’s sister, braids the other side of my hair, twisting and folding my locks to look perfect. This is the trend for young girls my age right now--or so they tell me. 

“A few,” I sheepishly admit, shrugging my shoulders. “Can you tell?”

“Jus’ look like you’ seen a ghost, tis’ all.” Lacy worries her brow as she works on the other side of my locks, preparing me for the day. “Tis’ the time of year for goblins and demons and other creatures from the realm below to run amuck on Earth.” 

A small snort leaves my nostrils. “You two don’t believe that,” I say as I study them in the mirror behind me, “...Do you?” They share a look behind me, adding the finishing touches to my hair with their long, hard working hands. My heart sinks into the pit of my empty stomach. I know that sibling look. 

They know something I do not. 

“You’ feel it right, Miss?” Lacy whispers, stepping back, gathering her skirts as she turns and walks out the door. “This time of the year especially.” 

“There are strange things that happen ere’ every day, Miss.” Sophia nods, doing the same as her sister. “But this time of year…” She trails off, looking at the portrait of the prince’s with amber eyes, “is dangerous…even for people they consider family.” She whips around suddenly, throwing me a cautious, soft smile.“Best keep a watchful gaze in front as well as behind you during this time of year, Miss.”

The door announces it is shut with a small click and I am all alone in this big, wide room. 

I look at the painting she was giving the oddest glance at. Sophia was wistful, yet apprehensive in her stare which was odd for her. Lacy and Sophia were usually very warm(and a little neurotic), but maybe they heard me scream last night and I spooked them with some local superstition or something? I get up from the vanity to study the painting a little closer, moving to stand in front of the hearth, looking at the enormous canvas stretched almost the eternity of the wall. The prince’s golden eyes shine and sparkle under the warm morning glow that hits the painting perfectly. They all look so regal, so handsome and yet, so mysterious at the same time, hanging over the hearth just so. 

Something catches my eye. My gaze narrows, squinting as I see the tiny, orange and black butterfly in the corner of the painting.

I slowly realize as a thought fills my mind, my eyes widening. “...Just like the one I saw in the garden-”

A knock sounds at my door. “Little Bird?” Prince Hoseok’s voice filters through the wood, startling me from my thoughts. 

“Y-Yes?” I stammer, collecting my dress in my fists to move to the door quicker. “Yes, Prince Hoseok?” I ask, opening the wooden frame with a small smile on my lips.

“Good morning, Little Bird.” The cheery, red-headed prince, bowing slightly. He was already dressed to the nines in his gray wool day suit. The princes’ all dressed handsomely, but I do have a thought that Hoseok and Taehyung sport the most trendy and interesting colors and pieces out of all the princes. “I hope I am not disturbing you, but Jungkook informed us of the-” he pauses, looking for the correct word, his amber eyes roaming my face as he does so. “-incident that occurred last evening.” His eyes seem to flash with acute anger for a split second. “We have all come to the conclusion that we would not want you to be unaccompanied today, if that is quite alright with you?”

His hand extends to mine and I take it almost right away, leaving the comfort of my room. 

“Good girl,” Hoseok purrs softly so only I can hear as he loops my arm to intertwine with his. A jolt of lighting rushes to my nether region and I know my eyes expand at the feeling. That has never happened to me before. It excited me,  however, it also made me feel a small speck of terror stewing in my guts. “Right-o! Shall we?” He happily carried on as if I wasn't going through an internal crisis at this very moment. 

“Ye-yes.” I squeak. 

Hoseok began to walk me down to the dinning hall, the smells of breakfast wafting through the mansion. The prince quipped to me about how he wanted to dance with me right away at the ball as it was one of his favorite activities after hunting. 

Once Prince Hoseok and I stepped down onto the main floor from the grand staircase, the large house seemingly exploded with a flurry of hurry and mild panic. Maids and butlers ran to and fro, the service staff were almost fully complete with their ritual of turning the lavish home into one of pure royalty and splendor. One day more and the Harvest Moon Ball shall be hosted in the Bangtan Castle. Everyone has been in such a state of hustle and bustle, it was making me a little dizzy watching them shuffle around the marbled floor! 

The staff look like worker bees, buzzing about the hive, making it the most spectacular ball I have ever laid my eyes upon. Which might not be saying much as my father never threw such parties and gatherings. He hated that sort of frivolity. 

I thought of my beautiful dress Prince Seokjin had carefully crafted for me and sighed. “I am very delighted I can take part in the ball tomorrow.” I said as beautiful flowers from Jimin’s garden came through in huge golden vases by the tens of hundreds. The fragrant, colorful plumages needed two or more gentlemen of the Bangtan kingdom staff to carry them as the ornate containers appeared rather cumbersome to tout around.   

A wolfish grin spread across Hoseok’s face and he watched her with hungry, ravenous eyes while she took in the wealth and glamor that they have worked tirelessly to transform their den into. “We are too, Little Bird…We are too.” 

Breakfast was simple: sweet fruit, perfectly cooked porridge, crispy bacon, and fluffy eggs. The options were less plentiful then when I first arrived, but I imagine the staff very obviously had their hands full and they were busy attending and preparing other facets of the mansion. And rightfully so. A ball seems like it takes weeks, if not months, to prepare for. 

And now I am an extra burden for the brothers to shoulder. 

I must give them my thanks tomorrow. I did not have a lot to give them nor do I believe they are hurting or could ever want anything more. They live a comfortable life, or so it seems. I ponder as I chew my food all the ways that I could thank them as only Hoseok and Seokjin eat beside me. All the other brothers had their hands full with the impending ball happening tomorrow eve. 

I scanned the table as I watched the two princes nourish themselves for the day. Seokjin ate slowly as he read the news docket, his amber eyes roaming row by row, drinking in what he was reading. Hoseok scooped porridge into his mouth quickly and snatched more bacon off his plate, wolfing down his meal as it would be his last. He didn’t eat like a child or like a brute, he just consumed his meal with haste and less tack than his oldest brother. 

It was peaceful. Even with so much movement happening throughout the castle, the dining hall was calm, the demeanor of the room was quite content. I am happy I think to myself, basking in the glow of autumn sun pouring in from the windows. I inhale deeply as I set my teacup down which earns me glances from both princes. 

“Everything alright, Little Bird?” Seokjin simpered, amber eyes gazing at me over the black and white folded paper. 

“Oh, yes, indeed!” I exclaim as the dining staff start clearing away the fine china in front of me. “I was just thinking about how content and happy I am.” I smile at him and Hoseok at the head of the table. “It is the first time I have felt like this in a long while.”

They both smile with warmth and adoration. The prince's grins are genuine, which made my own smile spread across my lips. A thought from this morning crossed my mind and I uttered the question without thinking. “I have a question, if you both don’t mind?” 

They nod in tandem, Hoseok finishing the food on his plate finally. Seokjin folded the docket and set it down on the table beside his teacup. 

“Well, uh-” Nervousness flooded through me, their bright eyes watching me with anticipation made my heart skip a beat. “I was studying the lovely portrait of you all in my room. And I couldn’t help but notice a small butterfly in the corner like a signature an artist gives…” Their faces fell as I continued. “And I saw a monarch butterfly in the garden and wanted to know, I suppose, if your family has a connection to butterflies in some manner?”

“You what?” Hoseok choked, panicked in his query as he coughed and beat his chest with vigor. 

“Are you sure you saw a butterfly?” Seokjin asked me in alarm as he stood from his seat. “An orange and black butterfly?” 

I became puzzled. “Ye-Yes?” I questioned, glancing between the two brothers as they stare at me with shock, worry coloring their handsome features. 

“We do not have butterflies in Bangtan.” Seokjin spoke in a grave manner, approaching me with slow steps. His golden, amber eyes were the size of dinner saucers, looking down at me. I have never seen him behave in such a way. I fear I have said the wrong thing at the wrong time, shattering the peaceful and tranquil morning in the dining hall with my stupid question. 

I spoil everything. 

“They are a bad omen here,” Hoseok stood, walking over to join Seokjin, staring grimly into my orbs. I have rarely seen Hoseok not smile and it was a sight I wished not to see again. His smile was one of my favorite things about him. “Butterflies are the harbingers of death and destruction.” 

An eerie feeling like I was being watched spread across my body, just like in the garden, causing a shiver to climb its way down my spine. I fret I truly made a mistake bringing this up to the princes. My raw questioning and curiosity has gotten the better of me once more. I felt like this was a rabbit hole I did not want to dig around in, lest I fall in.  

BAM!

“Seokjin-hyung! Hobi-hyung!” Jimin cried, flying through the dining hall door, worry and terror clouding his pale face as he puffed, out of breath, “He is here early!”

I whip around behind me to the cause of the noise and see the silver-locked prince shaking. He appeared disheveled in his haste to get to the dining hall as quick as a crack of lightning. Jimin’s always perfect hair was out of place, his breathing labored, and his legs wobbled as he scrambled for purchase, for support on the wooden door. 

A low rumble leaves Hoseok’s throat now as he stands behind me. “How?” He hisses out through gritted teeth, his hot breath tickling the top of my braided locks. 

“Are you certain?” Seokjin asks, all niceties gone from his tone. 

“P-Positive, hyung.” Jimin clamored, knees buckling as he fell to the ground in a heap. Prince Jimin was as still as a statue then. No movement came from his lump of a body on the floor.

I lurch forward, my arms extending in concern toward the silver -haired prince on the ground. I was still, not daring to move as two strong, mighty hands held me back, gripping both shoulders so I could not move. 

“Who is here?” I question in a whisper, not daring to move. The situation was dire it seemed. Jimin needed assistance, a mysterious guest had appeared and butterflies were quite a sore subject in the kingdom of Bangtan. 

My peaceful morning was no more. 

My ears perked at a hearty laugh that suddenly echoed through the halls. All the commotion happening in the halls seemed to die out, like the flame of a candle being snuffed out. Time was slowing, melting around me as if I was trapped in molasses. A cold shiver radiated through my body making me rigid. My back burned but I still dare not move a muscle, still in the confines of the two prince’s grasp. 

A black-gloved hand pushed through the frame of the door Jimin was slumped in front of. The two men behind me inhaled, holding their breath as the easement produced a man in orange and black riding leathers standing before us. The air was tense as this mysterious stranger floated through the door as if he owned the wind he strode through.

“Is this how you treat an esteemed guest?” His voice had an accent to it, definitely not from your kingdom or the one you’ve stumbled into. “And right before the ball too?” He grinned a devilish gleam as he made his way over to the three of you, which you all were as still as statues. 

He flicked a strand of curly, dark brown hair back away from his face, his warm, chocolate gaze was locked onto the men behind you. This man was handsome. The type of man that would make women swoon and make men jealous. He was neither too large nor too short. He was neither too feminine nor too masculine looking. This stranger was a nearly perfect man, seemingly sculpted, handmade from the gods. 

Though, you couldn’t help but think the princes’ would be the ideal personalities you’d like to be courted by...as if that would ever happen to someone like you…but, maybe one day.   

Prince Seokjin and Hoseok were utterly quiet as this man fluidly strode toward the three of you.

“Thank you so much for the snack after the long journey.” The stranger continued, surveying the beautifully ornate dining hall. “Next time could you provide me with a virgin, you know how much I prefer them over--”

“Chris.” Seokjin practically snarled, disdain rolling off his tongue. “Why are you here?”

The man shrugged, his riding leathers crinkling, cracking the tense air around the lot of you. “You didn’t get my RSVP?” This Chris fellow tilted his head, smiling as he did so. “My creature said it found someone in the garden.”

“You. Are. Early.” Prince Seokjin said, ice dripping with every syllable he uttered. The Prince gripping my shoulder tightly glazed over Chris’s question. “Today is not a good day.” 

“And you are uninvited until tomorrow.” Prince Hoseok growled over my other shoulder. 

“Gentlemen, please.” Chris chuckled, plucking a strawberry from the tray of colorful fruit, examining it in his long fingers. “My brothers and I came to spend an evening with you, for old times sake.” His brown orbs glow red in the sunlight hitting his face in the dining hall windows. 

“We do not have time to entertain guests until tomorrow, good sir. I suggest you leave.” I blurt out. I jump with the sound of my voice, startling myself. 

I blush, flushing a crimson color I am sure, and look to the floor immediately. “We” I said...I do not truly live here. I am nothing more than a visitor here. What gives me the right, the gall, to say any of this at all?

“Is this your ward I’ve been hearing about?” Chris said, bending so our eyes could meet. “My, you are a pretty thing, aren’t you?” His nostrils expanded as he leaned down to stare into my orbs. At this angle they look ravenous, mad with desire or hunger…I cannot tell the difference nor do I wish to dwell upon the thought any longer. “Now, this is the type of snack, nay, meal I’ve been hunting for.” 

My brows furrow as Chris’s devilishly playful grin deepens. 

“Christopher Bangchan.” Prince Namjoon’s deep timbre cuts through the tense air. He helps pull prince Jimin to his feet as he comes-to. The silver-haired prince grabs his face in his hands, groaning like he just woke up from a long, restful slumber. “Let us talk in the parlor or library, perhaps. That way we do not disturb our ward any further.” Namjoon grins, dimples popping out of his cheeks and I swear I think swoon every time he so much as smirks at me. “Now, shall we? We have much to catch up on.” He steadies his younger brother like nothing even happened, righting him upright to his feet with a few pats on the back. 

Jimin stands on his own two feet, however they wobble like a newborn calf. The prince finds the nearest chair and slumps over in it, giving a slight moan of pain as he does so. 

I find Prince Namjoon’s amber-colored orbs and hope he can feel my many words of thanks and cunning praise I am sending him with my gaze. He gives a small wink in my direction, turning his back to the group of us and exits the dining hall. Christopher retreats with a salacious grin upon his face, gliding to follow behind silently.

A chill runs up my spine as his orbs flash red for a split second before he fully vanishes from view. 

Another wash of awkward silence ticks, time seems to come back into focus for me. Birds chirp and chatter outside the windows, the staff chatter amongst themselves as they are hard at work preparing for the ball tomorrow. The world begins to spin again and I feel like I am coming out of a year-long slumber. 

What an odd fellow. I think as I exhale a deep breath I never even realized I was holding. I shall try and stay clear of him tomorrow.

“Y/N…” Hoseok says, spinning me around. A large smile sat upon his face, gazing at me with so much adoration. “You can be quite the powder keg, can’t cha’?”

“My little bird.” Prince Seokjin strokes the side of my cheek with the back of his long, comforting hands. He looks at me with his kind, rich eyes. “Well done.” 

I smile wide, grinning from ear to ear. I don’t know that talking rudely out of turn was deserving of so much praise, but nonetheless, I am happy once more. I am content with these brothers I have come to live with. 

“But, please Little Bird…” Prince Seokjin furrows his brow, his smile slightly falling. “Please do not go anywhere unaccompanied without one of us from now on.” I’m sure I give him quite the puzzled expression as he continues. “The Harvest Moon Ball, while magnificent and splendid as it is, also brings with it some…unsavory characters to the castle. Do you understand?”

I nod.

“Good.” He claps his hands. “Wonderful, wonderful, yes.” Prince Seokjin nods back to me. “Now, let us go fetch some things I need in town. I believe they should all be finished.” 

“What about Prince Jimin?” I ponder, giving his brother a worrying glance. “Is he quite alright?” 

“I have got him.” Hoseok exclaimed, walking over to the silver-haired prince and ruffled his hair about. “You two make sure the ball will be fantastic for tomorrow. I’ll manage things here.” 

“Marvelous!” Seokjin took my hand in his and led me to the door as footmen rushed and worked to dress the oldest prince in his outside attire. “We have much to do in town, Y/N. Much to do, yes.”

There must have been an accident in the kitchen or maybe with a decoration? Several staff members were mopping and cleaning a giant spot of dark-colored liquid near the door. They always work so hard, I hope the princes give them enough time off. And especially after the Harvest Moon Ball. The substance was both liquid and gooey at the same moment; chunks of possible beef or pork were being scooped up with haste, the castle staff meticulously restoring the ground of the threshold of the grand entrance way. Did one of the staff drop a stew of beef on accident?

 “Shall we wait for Paisley?” Another query finds my lips as we walk outside to the gleaming black carriage that was getting ready to go into town for the day. Two beautiful tawny work horses snorted, stamping their feet onto the ground, their hooves large and heavy in the mid-morning light. I noticed Jongbak was nowhere to be seen on this morning either, which was rather odd. He would do everything in his power to be in the presence of Paisley. 

Seokjin paused, stilling his movements as a footman opened the door for both the prince and I. He was a few steps in front of me and I felt his aura darken with my question. My heart was beating wildly, trapped behind my sternum. I haven’t seen Paisley this morning…or come to think of it, last night Sophia and Lacy have been attending to me. They often rotated in their care of me, but it was not normal to go this long without seeing my friend. 

“I am sorry that I didn’t inform you earlier,” Prince Seokjin walked to the carriage door, spinning on his heel, holding out his hand to assist me into the  carriage. “Paisley is no longer with us.”

A small gasp climbs from my throat, my eyes widening with surprise. “You mean she left? She no longer works in the castle?” I find his gloved hand in mine as I step closer to the carriage door. He helps me climb into the wheeled device, seating on the other side of me as Sophia silently follows, sitting next to me with a grim expression on her face.

Seokjin shakes his head, a sheepish smile springing up upon his pillowy lips. “I’m afraid not, Little Bird…I’m afraid not.” 

“Do you know where she went off to?” I query further. “I will miss her so!” Growing up with brothers was fantastic and I wouldn’t change it for the world, but in recent weeks I have grown close to Paisley, considering her akin to a sister to me. I felt utterly shameful. I didn't know she was planning to leave Bangtan Castle. I would have done everything in my power to make her stay. 

Prince Seokjin shakes his head, his rich locks swaying with him as the carriage begins to move. “She didn’t say anything except I know she went somewhere far, far away.” 

-

Riding into town, it was exceedingly calm and quiet today, which is out of the norm. Usually the village is swimming with life. Everyone outside, the shops full, restaurants buzzing with customers, the park always packed with lovely couples and families playing. The weather was not a deterrent as it was indeed chilly, but altogether sunny. I’d be remiss not to say that it was a beautiful autumn day!

Seokjin visited the butcher, which he told me was no place for a lady, so the Prince had me wait in the coach. Footmen carried crates full of items in glass, storing them above and below the carriage. I wished to know more about what was in the containers, but I held my tongue. 

I had enough outbursts and speaking out of turn for the day, I thought. 

Next, the carriage strode to an apothecary where Prince Seokjin let me pick a delightful, sweet yet mild tea. He said he was very fond of my choice. We received bundles of dried herbs, containers of what looked to be sludge, and colorful powders in vials. The prince paid the apothecary a hefty sum, a sack of coins exchanged for these small items seemed like the shopkeeper was ripping Seokjin off, but, no haggling was made, so I said not a word. 

We stopped for tea and sandwiches in a restaurant which was inside of an enormous green house located in the heart of the town. Fragrant flowers, leafy green vines, and tall tropical plants inhabited the glass dome. The air was warm and the atmosphere was relaxing as we made polite conversation. There were only a small handful of other patrons in the dining hall, making it feel as if I was shouting to the prince sitting across the table from me. 

“Y/N.” Seokjin addressing me by my name made my cheeks flush. I do hope he doesn’t notice, I shall just play it off if he does! The warm air in the greenhouse must be affecting me so! “Are you most excited for tomorrow's event?” Seokjin queried, finishing his meaty sandwich. 

I nod, wiping my mouth with the edge of my napkin. “Indeed.” I smile at him. “I am most looking forward to wearing my sparkling, glittering gown Madam Hwasa has created for me in little-to-no time. My mind wanders away from itself as it thinks of the dressmaker pointing to the middle of my back, to the small, bird wings-like birthmark I’ve carried with me since I came into this world. 

“I do hope you save me a dance, Little Bird.” Prince Seokjin purs, looking at me with a glimmer of desire in his eyes. I am sure my cheeks have only grown more pink by the minute. My fleshy center in between my legs jolts with electricity and I blink rapidly, trying to think about morphing away from my ever changing thoughts. “...Possibly two dances?” 

I melt at his velvety, swoon-worthy words. “Y-Yes, of course.” I stammer. 

“Good.” A wolfish grin spreads across the prince’s face. His amber eyes glint as he lightly touches the top of my hand. “Very good.

-

“Why the fuck are you here early, Chris?” Hoseok thunders, throwing the wooden library doors open. His amber orbs flash red, anger seething out of every pore. “Who invited you in?” 

“The cute little maid with the freckles.” Chris stated, a coy smile on his lips. “She was quite the snack.” Chris smuggly looks over his glass of brandy. The outsider was sitting on the red velvet couch in the library, looking comfortable in his orange and black riding leathers.

“Monster.” Yoongi’s deep timbre growled, baring his pearly canine teeth.  The brothers, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook, all stood facing the man adjacent to them, scowls on their faces, brows knit in frustration. 

“Come now,” Chris chidded as Hoseok strode across the room, standing in the menacing line with his wolf brethren. “We cannot help what we are. You all should understand better than mortals, no?” 

“There is a contract in place. You cannot harm one of our staff during the ball.” Namjoon frankly states. 

“But, it is not quite time for the ball, now--is it?” Chris snickers.

“You never sent a calling card, which is something you are supposed to do as well.” Jungkook folds his arms across his chest, a loathsome attitude souring the merriment of today. 

Chris gives a fake gasp, putting his free hand across his smirking mouth. “I did,” he said, feigning innocence, “my butterfly said someone saw it who lives in the castle.” He shrugs. “I thought you boys knew.” 

“Y/N saw it, but she didn’t know it was one of your…creatures.” Hoseok sneered down at the man sitting down, sipping his brandy casually. 

Yoongi slams his hands on the coffee table, splintering the wood on the cherry-wood table, sending pieces flying. Spittle flies from Yoongi’s peeled back lips, snarls erupting from his throat. “You are not welcome here this evening.” Prince Yoongi decides, the collection of wolf-men nod their heads in agreement. 

“Tell me about your ward.” Chris chuckles, his accent coming out in full force now that he is becoming more comfortable, ignoring the question. “She is awfully pretty.” The wolf-brothers snarl, feral noises emitting from their lips. “Keeping her all to yourselves, huh?”

“Don’t. You. Dare. Think. About. It.” Jungkook riles, enunciating his words with dark, animalistic noises. His wolf form rippling under his human skin, threatening to burst free. 

“Once you finish your drink, you need to leave.” Hoseok snaps. A darkened look glazing across his usually happy-go-lucky features.  

A small snort leaves the stranger’s nostrils. “You haven’t marked your territory very well, boys.” Chris takes a small sip of his brown colored alcohol. “Anyone, or anything, could gobble her right up.”

“I’m going to get my hunting rifle.” Hoseok angrily says as he spins on his heel to retreat out of the library.

“I’ll go with you.” Namjoon agrees, his lip lifted in disgust. 

“Alright, alright.” Chris stands, draining the last drops of the strong drink from his glass. “I know when I’m not wanted.” He stretches, smiling as his fangs poking out from his top lip, smiling at the angry group of wolf-men. He makes his way to the window, climbing through the frame, and disappearing into the daylight. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” His words echo in the library. 

Hoseok lets out a wild howl, informing the pack what just happened here and who they need to watch out for. 

-

The next day, I was told I should keep to the guest room as the princely brothers were very busy preparing for the ball happening this evening. 

I was rather confused as to why. Did they not wish me at their side all the morrow? Do the princes not deem me fit to be in my company? Do the princes of Bangtan wish me not good enough company? Do they loathe me now for speaking out of turn yesterday?

In these moments, I deeply missed my brothers. I fear I would never be a solitary creature, preferring the company of many over being alone. I craved their smiling faces, their boisterous laughs, the way they teased me so.��

I wondered about why I was in solitary confinement all morning while I ate breakfast of buttered toast, sausage, and eggs. My mind raced as I read through the latest news docket, my eyes scanning other the black and white text, never actually reading anything. I pondered as I was scrubbed from head to toe, being rubbed raw as if I was poultry, going to be prepared to be eaten as the ball later. Thoughts of confusion were all that hovered in my brain all morning and afternoon. 

I couldn’t concentrate on anything. My mind is springing back and forth like a ball on a wire. And to top it  off, my two attendants were no help to my restless mood. 

Sophia and Lacy flit and flounce about the guest room, rushing in and out all day. They brought me breakfast, the news docket, and all other petty gossip that was brought up from downstairs. The women are usually on edge, but I have never seen the sisters in such an anxious state. 

This just added to the tense air of the guest room, making me feel desperate to leave. I felt like a trapped, caged animal in this wide room the princes have provided for me. I felt both ungrateful and agitated with the same thought. I am grateful I have a place to live, a home that has welcomed me even though I am a complete stranger. However, I am rather displeased because they are telling me I need to be shut up in my room all day, never getting to help or see what the ball will look like. I felt as if I was in my role of little sister once more, being told what I can and couldn’t do. I feel like  these thoughts were unfair, but true at the same time.

The only moments I was allowed some respite from my whirling thoughts and oppression room was when I needed to relieve myself. 

Staring at myself in the mirror of a cold, private bathroom on the second floor where the guest room I stay in resides, I wonder why the princes have shut me out this morning. My brow wrinkles and I raise an arm to the ceiling, turning my head to my armpit. No, I don’t suppose I smell, but perhaps one's own smell doesn’t affect themselves?

I look rather odd, I think, clothed in a very casual and modest dress of thin, light blue colored silk. It was chilly this morning and I had chosen to skip wearing socks on my journey to the lavatory. I feel like I have rings under my eyes, sleep torturous from the nightmares of large wolves and dogs that meet me when I shut my eyes.  I shall give my face a good wash before Sohpia and Lacy apply makeup the princes have purchased and wished  for me to wear. It was almost time time for me to step into my beautiful-

Run.

I still, sucking in a breath. I was mid-rinse of my face with cold water, feeling a shiver run down my spine. A dreadful feeling was crawling down my back, making every hair on my body stand at attention. My body is crying out that I am in danger. My heart was beating quickly. I need to flee! 

Water drips down my chin, as I hang over the marbled wash basin. I am too afraid to look up as I hear a shuffling sound behind me. I had not heard anyone come through the door and I was worried that the man from yesterday would be making another unexpected appearance. I gulp. I am alone. Sophia and Lacy are at the opposite end of the hall…Would they hear me if I screamed?

Would I even be able to scream?

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” A smooth, buttery voice wafts from behind me. I jolt, though, still not brave enough to look up at the reflection in the mirror. A man’s voice. This was not the same accent the man, Chris, had from yesterday. This voice was new, more playful, more devious--if that was even possible. “Such a pretty ward.”

I should run. I plead with myself. I think about a few weeks ago, a scowl forming on my moist face. I am not helpless. I remember the red spray from my fathers wrinkly throat. I will not run anymore.

“This room is occupied” I say, not glancing up, my tone cold and not friendly. “Do you have no manners that you do not knock when a door is closed?” 

“Oh-ho!” The man behind chuckles, his fingers lightly brushing across my exposed shoulder blades. I shudder. It felt like this man reached into my body and caressed my soul with a simple stroke of his warm fingertips. “You are a feisty one, aren’t you?” 

“Who are you?” I clench my fist, whipping my head up, my fears dissipating with his jeer.

My eyes blew wide as I stare into the reflection, wildly looking behind me in the mirror. There was no one in this dimly lit, cold room. No, that’s not right. It can’t be. His fingertips trail down my clothed spine, the silk making it easy for him to trail down lower and lower. I have never been touched like this and I have never been touched without permission which makes me feel queasy. 

“What, pet?” The man with the rich baritone was still behind me, taunting me. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.”

Enough of this nonsense! I turn suddenly, punching the man square in the face. He stumbles backward, a loud crack emitting from the middle of his face. “Unhand me, you heathen!” I shout, bellowing as loud as one possibly could, hoping someone would come and assist me with this ruffian in the lavatory. 

“Fuck.” Shiny, bright red rubies drip from his broken nose, falling on the beautiful white marble floor. His eyes flash red with anger as he cradles his bloody face, staring daggers at me. My tight fist throbs, hurting from the force I just used on this stranger. “I’m going to kill you, you filthy human.”

Human? I don’t dwell on his weird descriptor of me. “Try it.” I sneer, adrenaline flowing through me, making me speak before I think clearly. 

This evil man lunges at me, giving a loud shout as I glower at him, my fists coming up defensively to my chest, ready to hit him again. I’ll show you who has killed a man.

“Y/N!”

It happened so fast, I feared if I was blinking too fast, I would miss it. 

In a flash of black and white, Jungkook, who is dressed rather smartly in a posh tuxedo, races into the room, kicking this man in the face. This sends the stranger flying, hitting the hard, marbled walls. A loud thump He lands with an, “oof” sound, his head lulling to his chest. 

“Are you okay?” Jungkook’s amber eyes search mine, sparkling in the dim light. He lightly grips my shoulders, looking me over to see if I’m alright. 

I quake, my body shaking with pent up fear coursing through my veins, adrenaline dying down. But I nod. “Y-Yes.” I manage. “I am fine.” I look at the man slumped over, knocked unconscious. “My fist hurts a little…I suspect I broke his nose.” 

He blinks slowly, jaw dropping down, my words sinking into his skull as he processes what I uttered. “You what?” His sunset-colored orbs expand. The youngest prince stares at me with a mix of admiration and awe. “You what?” He repeats. 

I can’t help but give a small laugh at that, my frown flipping into a small smile. “He touched me inappropriately,” I sighed, “…So, I punched him.” 

Jungkook snaps his jaw back in place, hastily removing his hands from my shoulders. I notice how cold it was without his warmth there. “I was coming up to tell your attendants that the ball was kicking off soon and I heard you yell.” 

“Thank you.” I shiver, looking back at the man as Jungkook guides me out of the room. “Thank you, Jungkook.”

“I know today must have been agonizing for you.” The youngest prince ushers me into the hall, closing the large lavatory door behind us. It groaned on the hinges, making a loud thud as it clasped shut. “I am sorry we had you stay in your room all day.” Jungkook nodded to the door, "We didn't want riff-raff like that to find its way to you.”

A thought crossed my mind now that I was more rational, more-level headed. “Prince Jungkook, I didn’t hear him enter.” He blinks at me as I continue. “I had the door shut and locked.” I shake my head, brow furrowing. “He had no reflection in the mirror…” Jungkook continued to blink slowly at me as I finished. “And…he called me a…human? Isn’t that all…rather odd?”

A beat of silence and I feared I was going to be burned at the stake, accused of witchcraft or something akin to that for saying a ridiculous thing. A person with no reflection! What a queer thing to suggest! Maybe I was losing my mind, maybe I was seeing things and needed to be locked away, living away from others until the end of time. 

“Indeed, rather odd.” Jungkook nodded, leaning down to place the back of his hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling poorly, Y/N? I know that man gave you quite the fright. Are you sure you would like to attend the ball this evening?”

A wave of calm fluttered over my body at his touch. I reveled in the feeling of this soft, light sensation traveling through my body. It was a tingling feeling like butter melting on a hot stove or chocolate in one's mouth. I felt my worries float away on a fluffy cloud with his touch. “I feel fine.” I respond, feeling like I’ve been rejuvenated. 

“Wonderful.” He grins, gently guiding me back to my room to be placed in the eager hands of Sophia and Lacy. “One of us will be here to escort you to the ballroom when you have finished getting ready.” He says as he shuts the door softly in my face. 

The youngest prince gives a low snarl, Hoseok and Taehyung stalking upstairs in tandem, scowls painting their handsome faces. Jungkook rolls his shoulders, his wolf form rippling under his human skin as he marches to the lavatory. The brothers growled, throwing open the door as the strange man moaned in pain on the ground. Jungkook snickered as he hoisted the man up by his lapels. “We have vampire trash to take out.”

-

Author's Notes: Wow, has it really been two years since I worked on this story? That's crazy to me! Thank you for sticking around if you have been waiting for this story to continue! I have a portion of the ball written out, so hopefully it won't take me years to complete and upload the next bit! Haha. Anyway, a comment, like, or reblog is always appreciated but not necessary. Love you all and thank you again for reading. 💕

-

Part Three l Part Five

[confused-cakepop]

I don't ship lloykita but their should be a werewolf-vampire au about them. Akita is already like a werewolf (human that magically turns into a wolf) and people draw lloyd with oni traits that can look similar to vampires (red eyes, fangs). Onis are canibals. You could probably make it so that lloyd bites and drinks people's blood cause he gets hungry but doesn't want to you know- eat people. So he drinks blood as a way to cure his cravings while not hurting people as much as his stomach wants to. his elemental power is energy so he needs to get energy somewhere and since its harder to get it with half the day being spent indoors, when he drinks someones blood he's also sapping away their energy as well and sorta leaving them in a paralyzed state.

Instead of wooden stakes it's stakes made of vengestone.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook/Platonic OT6

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Intro]

The wolf pretending to be the grandmother, just to later swallow the poor red riding hood whole- is he attempting to gain your trust as well just to feast on your flesh later, once he gets hungry for a meal?

Tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Human?Reader, Platonic!OT6, strangers/enemies to lovers, fantasy AU, drama, angst, fluff, romance, suggestive themes and eventual smut, Alpha!Jungkook

Length: 2k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: how many different wolf-JKs can bonny write without it getting boring challenge

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

You've always been somewhat drawn into the forest far away from the cities, even as a small child.

You remember the family trips you'd take, camping out underneath the trees, your father showing you how to make a fire, and how to set up the tents. You always enjoyed weekends like these, even though they were incredibly rare. Your mom and dad had separated early in your life, and at some point, after your father had passed away, you simply never went back to the forest ever again.

Your mother, and stepfather would always warn you of the werewolves out there instead. 'There's a reason the government gave them those forests to roam around in.' She'd always scoff. 'So they'll stay away from us humans. So they can't hurt us.' She'd warn you.

Werewolves are beasts, hiding inside a human's body. Fierce animals, with no humanity inside them whenever they'd shift into their other forms. Their bones would break loudly, blood would spill and minds would change- and once they're shifted into their wolf forms, they'd eat people's children who'd wander too far from their families, never seen again after getting lost in the woods.

Nowadays, you hardly believe those tales.

You do however fear werewolf men- because statistics prove that they don't seem to have much control over themselves. Normally, just like your mother, you'd wear simple jewelry of silver to protect yourself- something many humans do, especially those that work with wolf people a lot, just to protect themselves. But you seem to have an allergy against that type of metal- it doesn't burn you or anything- at least it hasn't yet. You usually just get really nauseous and weak from wearing any silver- so you tend to not buy anything that contains the shiny metal.

Your mom said it's nothing too problematic. Just that you should stay away from it.

The birds chirp above you, some larger one's flying off while the small one's stay behind, curiously watching you as you sit in the grass, a blanket spread out that you sit on. You're grown up now. An adult, no longer really talking to your mother or your stepfather as much. Instead, you've created your own little life- something quiet, and easy, and simple. Nothing exciting, nothing adventurous.

You don't like things like that.

Excitement always brings a certain sense of danger with it, after all. And you've had enough dangerous experiences in the past to last you a lifetime, after all. You don't need more of that.

You'd rather stay like this- all by yourself, eating a simple prepared meal in the forest, surrounded by nothing but nature. Because nature doesn't look at you weirdly. Nature doesn't judge you, or ask you things that make you uncomfortable to answer. Nature just sees you as what you are- A simple human, not out here to harm anybody.

You suddenly spin your head around when a tree branch snaps in half behind you- and suddenly, there's a young man dressed in casual clothes, piercings in his face and very telling amber eyes looking at you, his hands lifted in front of him palms open to show he's no threat.

"I'm sorry- that was super rude of me to approach you from behind. Sorry." He sheepishly admits, before he walks a bit closer, hands in the pockets of his jacket now. "Where's your pack?" He asks, and you stiffen up.

"I- I don't have one." You deny. "I'm human." You admit to him, and he tilts his head a bit in question, as you watch his eyes seemingly glow for a split second while he- smells the air?

"Really? I could swear I'm smelling a wolf.." He wonders more or less to himself, before he shakes it off. Maybe someone had come by here earlier, and he's simply catching that scent instead of yours. "Anyways, I was just passing by and thought to check up on you. This is my pack's territory, so I kind of always keep an eye out for people who wanna cause trouble." He charmingly explains, shrugging his shoulders easily.

To think that that guy.. is an apparent 'beast' is kind of.. hard to see, really. He looks pretty innocent with his round eyes and soft facial features, hair a little wild in slight curls on his head. And you're sure, he looks more like a golden retriever happy to see another person, than a wolf.

A leader, at that.

"Your pack?" You ask, and he nods, almost proudly beaming at you.

"Yep!" He chirps, walking a bit closer now as he notices you not being weirded out or anxious. "Well- kind of. Namjoon is the head-alpha, I'm kind of his stand-in at the moment until he's back from his trip." He shrugs, pointing to your blanket. "Can I.. sit down with you? I promise I'm not gonna eat you like some red-riding-hood kind of situation." He jokes, and you scoot over a bit, letting him sit down next to you- though you make sure to pull your backpack a little closer.

"I have a silver knife in my bag anyways." You threaten. That makes his eyes widen a bit.. fearfully? "So don't try anything." You threaten, and again, he lifts his hands.

"I won't, promise." He promises, before he looks at you again rather curiously, leaning in a little. "But- do you have wolf-friends maybe?" He asks. "I swear you smell like wolf. Kind of. A little- it's confusing actually." He mumbles, and you scoot away from him at that. "Hey no- sorry, I didn't mean to come off as weird. I know you humans tend to be a bit wary of us here." He deflates, and you almost feel a bit sorry for him.

Almost.

"I don't have wolf-friends." You tell him. "And I'm sorry I trespassed on.. your territory. I'll make sure to go somewhere else next time." You say, but he shakes his head.

"Oh no, please!" He denies. "It's completely chill, really! Like I said we only don't want people wrecking stuff and causing trouble. Like, you know- parties and stuff. They always leave behind their trash and shit, and that's just awful." He shrugs, making you agree.

"I won't do that." You say. "Leaving my trash here, or wrecking stuff." You clarify, and he smiles.

"Thats good." He beams, getting a bit more comfortable. "So, what brings you here?" He asks, genuinely wondering. There's a clear sign at the entrance of the forest that this is werewolf territory after all- humans don't usually even go for a walk here at all.

They stay clear of this area, and usually, Jungkook likes it that way.

"I don't know, honestly." You admit, pulling your legs closer to yourself, hugging your knees. "I just kind of.. like it here." You shrug, and he watches you for a second, and you feel like his amber eyes stare right through you and into your very soul.

Like he can see something you didn't even know was there.

"Me too. I was born in these woods though, so that might explain why I'm so attached to it." He chuckles, no longer looking at you as intensely, and quite honestly, he seems like a nice guy to be around. The perfect balance of confidence, boyish-charm and the right pinch of gentle masculinity- if he wasn't a werewolf, you probably would've been a lot more open towards him.

But every time his gaze catches yours, you're reminded of what those golden eyes mean.

The wolf pretending to be the grandmother, just to later swallow the poor red riding hood whole- is he attempting to gain your trust as well just to feast on your flesh later once he gets hungry for a meal? You won't let it get this far. You're not a dumb child he can just trick by pretending to be a friend.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way. Alpha wolf, but I promise I've got myself under control. Even got a citizens' pass if you wanna see?" He proudly grins at you, and you can't help but look at him like you don't trust his words- so he grabs at his cotton zip-hoodie, patting down the pockets before he pulls out a black simple wallet, showing off the plastic card with his identification info, a small ID photo of his right next to it. He looks young in it- but a lot more serious. "There you go. Got an 85, makes me top 1% of all wolfbloods in the country." He shows off, shoulders high as he lets you examine the card.

It's true. His IC-score is a 85, IC standing for Instinct Control. You've never seen one this high to be honest- but then again, you don't have any wolf-friends or acquaintances. His name is Jeon Jungkook, he's born in the year 1997, and his ID states he's an Alpha*. You're not sure what the little asterisk on that means- but you also don't wanna pull the plastic card out of its compartment, so you just leave it at that.

"You're older than me." You say as you give it back to him. "Not by much, but a little." You simply mumble, and he smiles, happy that you now seem to relax a bit more. Suddenly, the first drops of rain begin to hit your head and shoulder- reminding you that you wanted to go back long ago to not get caught in the small shower the weather forecast had foretold.

"Oh wow, that's gonna bring a lot of rain." Jungkook notices, looking past you at a wave of dark clouds approaching, when the first thunder rumbles. "You should go back fast if you wanna stay dry." He offers, getting up to help you fold your blanket and back your backpack again.

"I actually hiked here." You sigh. "So I'm gonna get wet anyway." You shrug, and he looks at you a bit concerned.

"You can also just sit it out at my packhouse." He offers. "I promise you, we have multiple houses there. You can stay in one of the smaller ones just by yourself if you don't wanna be around the others." He explains, and you look at him, before glancing back down the steep path you'd taken from the city far away up here where the woods stand proudly on the high hills.

There's no way you'll stay dry on your way back down.

Then, you look back at him, his honey-colored eyes seemingly glowing underneath the darkening skies above. A warning from nature, maybe, that this young man holds a beast in his heart- a beast you've been warned about for years never to get too close to.

But there's something else.

Something that makes you nod at him, before he begins to grin and take your backpack for you, leading you through the shaking trees and treaded down paths through his woods, birds already flying towards their nests as well, chirping their warnings to others as well of the changing weather.

You're not sure why you keep holding his hand even after he's done helping you step over a large root of a tree bursting through the ground. Maybe because it's warm, and the wind now brings a chilling cold.

Maybe because you just don't want to get lost and be eaten like the children in the nursery tales of your mother.

Or maybe you just hold it because you've never held someone's hand before without them complaining about it.

He turns to look over his shoulder presumably to check if you're still keeping up fine-

Golden eyes shining like little fireflies as the woods become darker the deeper you go.

[spaceofentropy]

I'm late as hell because of *waves hand at the gloomy weather and the general sense of crappiness* reasons, but better late than never, right? The fic I wrote for @ihni's zine (which is A GORGEOUS FREE ZINE!) is up on ao3, and you can find it here. It was beta read by @dragonflylady77, who also made the banner! Enjoy!

I'm hungry like a wolf Rated T, 4141 words Relationship: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington Main Tags: No Upside Down; Werewolf AU; full shitf werewolf; some animal gore; Rivals to Lovers It's the third full moon since he moved to Indiana, and Billy Hargrove can't fight his territorial instincts.

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

T 🧛‍♂️ 🥵🎀 (also congrats! and I am very excited about this whole thing! 😘😘😘)

Thank you so much, love! 💖 This one is not as explicitly smutty as the other request I did for you, but I'm pretty positive this won't be the last time I visit this world. (And they will absolutely fuck nasty in later instalments.)

Sweet perdition

Words: 947 Rated: E Tags: Vampire & werewolf AU; Vampire Eddie; Werewolf Steve; Imprisonment; Non-consensual bondage; Sexual tension; Explicit sexual content; Homoerotic blood drinking Notes: Part 1

It seems, Kas thinks, like he needs to thoroughly reassess his notions of werewolves. 

He's just lucky none of his vampire siblings can see him now, shackled to the floor in the basement of the surprisingly fancy manor that is the den of Steve’s pack. Outwitted and taken captive by a bunch of mutts - he'd be an utter laughing stock. 

Then again, if his siblings think that all werewolves are ugly, hairy thugs with nothing but floof for brains, it only goes to show they’ve never met any real-life packs before. Or their very pretty, very witty, very naked leaders.

Speaking of which … 

“I see you. I know you're watching me.” 

A heartbeat passes in silence. 

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” Steve smiles as he steps from the darkness. “Merely checking if you're settling in alright.” 

“How very hospitable of you,” Kas snarls. “You treat all your guests like this?” 

“Only the ones that might tear out my throat while I'm asleep,” Steve shrugs, settling cross-legged on the ground, just out of reach. He's acquired a set of clothes since Kas last saw him. A pair of skinny breeches and a cream shirt with billowing sleeves, gathered at the wrists with little satin ribbons. He looks like a haughty young lord gracing a subject with his presence. 

“You could always just let me go,” Kas hedges. Steve snorts a boyish laugh. 

“Nice try,” he says. “Afraid I can't do that.” 

Kas groans. “Is this still about your stupid prey? I told you I have nothing to do with that. Animal blood makes me wanna hurl.” 

Steve’s face remains unimpressed. “Even if that's true, one of your friends might be involved. Keeping you around might come in handy.” 

“So you're just gonna leave me down here to rot?” 

“I didn't say that.” 

Kas is about to ask what the hell he is on about, but then Steve holds out his hand. Something unfurls from his fingers - a broad band of tan leather. Inlaid with silver like the manacles on his wrists, no doubt; designed to drain his powers without causing physical harm or pain. Dangling from the end are a metal clasp and lock.

Kas sneers. 

“I think you're a bit confused, wolf boy. If one of us should be in a collar, it sure as hell isn't me.” 

Steve shrugs, rising to his feet. “Suit yourself. I'll just-” 

Something rumbles, loud and humiliating. Steve turns back around, eyebrows raised. 

“Hungry?” 

Kas scowls. “Told you I haven't been anywhere near your food, didn't- what the fuck are you doing?” 

“You're of no use to me if you starve, are you?” Steve is undoing the ribbon on his left wrist with deft fingers, pushing the sleeve up to his elbow. “Drink.” 

Kas bares his fangs, drawing a breath to tell him to go fuck himself. 

And that is when the scent hits him. Coppery and hot and tempting like all living things. 

But also more. 

Also warm summer soil and newly mown hay and embers in a slow fire. 

Life. 

He's on his knees before he realizes it, nosing at the delicate skin of that wrist. Steve hisses lightly as he pierces his flesh, but he doesn’t pull back. 

The taste of him hits Kas like something solid, seeping heavily into his limbs and sending his mind abuzz with fuzzy sensations and images. The sky at dusk and sun on skin. Music and laughter and touch, and a forgotten name floating just out of reach. The warm, tingling heat pools at the base of his spine, setting his nerves alight with fire. He moans, lapping at the thin rivulet of blood like a parched man. Each droplet is like a hit of morphine, is sweet perdition, is another kind of shackle snapping shut. He knows, instinctively, even in this moment, that he's lost. He's powerless to stop it. 

“Enough.” 

Steve uses his free hand to yank him back by the hair. Kas snarls in protest, straining to catch the last precious drops falling from those long fingers with his tongue before they go to waste. Steve watches him while he licks them up. 

“Greedy, aren't you?” 

“Fuck you,” Kas snaps. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile. “Oh, I'm sure you'd love to. That happen every time you feed or is that just for me?” 

Those hazel eyes are swirling with gold as they flick down, and Kas realizes with a detached sense of surprise that he is painfully hard. 

“Don't give yourself too much credit,” he drawls. “And besides, I could ask the same thing of you.” 

He turns his head, which is conveniently level with the very obvious bulk in Steve’s pants. The boy doesn't recoil when he scrapes his fangs along the outline of it, merely takes a well measured step back. He's a tough little bastard, Kas has got to give it to him. 

“I'll just leave this here,” Steve says sweetly. “In case you change your mind.” 

The collar clatters to the ground. Kas doesn't turn to look at it. His gaze is transfixed to Steve's hands fixing his shirt sleeve back into place. The ribbon soaks up the last beads of blood, crimson stains blooming on cream satin like flower petals. 

“Full moon's tomorrow, so you'll need to make that meal last for a day or two,” Steve says conversationally. “I suggest you put that time to good use and think about my offer.” 

Kas wordlessly watches how he turns his back and disappears into the darkness. The metal buckle of the collar glints in the low light of the basement.

The summery scent of life lingers long after Steve is gone. 

Werewolf!Robin: You let him drink your WHAT? Are you insane? What if he has vampire rabies?!

More celebration ficlets

[lovelykhaleesiii]

The Wolf & the Stray Girl. [PROLOGUE]

PAIRING: Werewolf!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Little Red Riding Hood AU]

WORDS: 531.

SUMMARY: Nestled in the outskirts of a desolate village, it was known that the woods were a dark, fearsome place not to be ventured. Yet something enchanting lived amongst its shadows, you were certain. And some may call it your bold willingness or others, your naive curiosity, would ultimately uncover the truth.

WARNINGS: mentions of stalking, missing persons scenario.

A/N - my brain is starting to function, and this plot is finally coming along. hope this entices some of ya'll I am actually so excited for this mini series to get out! hoping it’ll be 3/3 (excluding Prologue + Epilogue).

"You stay on that path, girl... Heed my words, carefully. Stay on that road, or you'll end up suffering whatever grave fate stole your sister from us.

The woods are a dangerous place, daughter. In the depths of a mere shadow between the bushes, are hungry eyes lurking. Sudden yet simple sounds, like that of a branch cracking beneath the weight of a stranger's step, abrupt enough to make you twitch towards its direction. These simple minded mishaps that our senses are spoiled in, may mean much more in these woods. Unfathomable forces beyond our feeble, mortal minds will attempt to lure you, eager to lead you astray, before captivating all your senses. Witless and mindless, your mind adrift before you take that first step off that path, you are already long lost, my dear daughter. These woods are life or death. Do not trust anything other than your intuition. I will say it just this once more... Heed my words, dearest daughter. Stay on that road, or we have lost you already..." Your father's daunting words echoed through your slumber mind. His eerie tone, blood-curdling enough, as icy chills spiked across your tender flesh. Regaining consciousness from your slumber, your tiresome eyes began to stir, fighting the sleep as they would flutter awake. In the fleeting moments it took for your sight to readjust to the dim, moonlit setting, your gaze naturally wanders towards the clear, glass window. Pondering over the misty darkness, the beaming silver rays of the moonlight provided a familiar and comforting sentiment. As your eyes lurked wondrously, the sudden grip that wretched at your heart, gripping your natural breath was brutal. In the near distance, just plain enough to decipher, two piercing, lilac orbs gazed upon your direction firmly, without even so much of a blink. Your soft lips fell agape from pure fright, an audible gasp sighing from your breath, as you hastily seated yourself up, leaning closer towards the window. In the sparing moments of your quick and instinctive movements however, it seemed whatever creature that had been prowling in the mask of the shadows, was gone. The direction, the spot in which you swore, you vividly remember having noticed the pair of enchanting, violet eyes ceased to exist. "Ouch-" You utter, your head falling towards your front, as you stare at the minor pinch mark, remaining from your mindless outburst. You needed to make sure this was no dream, that you truly were wide awake, and that all your vital senses were very much functioning. "The woods are a dangerous place, girl..." Your father's words once more ingrained into your memory, his seldom voice filling your ears. And yet, something about those lingering, arresting eyes in the distance, something about the way they did not terrify you, a habitual, gut feeling that churned inside of you, gathering that whomever the eyes belonged to, did not seem to want to hurt you. Your mind absently carried on indulging in such lucrative thoughts, your restless body began to find itself yearning for slumber once more... The day ahead would be a strenuous one, rest was much needed now, before daylight broke and called for you...

general taglist [bold means I could NOT tag you] - @evenstaris @bel-bottoms @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @hightowhxre @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

[candycandy00]

So I thought I’d introduce the concepts for my JJK Fairytale AU. Some of you sent in some interesting suggestions, but in the end I decided to go with the most famous fairytales that would fit. I’m already writing the first one, Gojo x Cinderella. You’ll notice some of these ideas are more developed than others. Here are the others I plan to write. 

Please vote for which one you’re most interested in! I’ll write them all but I’m curious about how much interest people have. It might affect the order I write them in. 

Geto x Little Red Riding Hood

Reader is a young woman traveling through the dangerous woods to reach a safe house. This is a kingdom ravaged by war, and she’s a medic. She has medicine and supplies that she needs to bring to a military safe house to treat some injured soldiers there, but there’s a big bad wolf (Geto) stalking her. He was an enemy soldier she saved once, now turned into a werewolf, and hungry for her in more ways than one. 

Toji x Snow White

Reader is a beautiful young woman living in a small rural village. There’s a huntsman who lives close by (Toji) who is a lot older than her, but she has a bit of a crush on him. For his part, he thinks she’s pretty but also thinks she’s too young for him (she’s like 20, he’s late 30’s). So he mostly ignores her. He’s known for being an excellent hunter and gets hired to go hunt dangerous animals in the woods. The evil queen hires him to take Snow White into the woods and kill her, but once he actually spends time with her, he might decide to just keep her. 

Choso x Rapunzel

Reader is gathering herbs in the forest and stumbles upon an old watch tower inhabited by a cute but antisocial hermit (Choso) who seems sweet and keeps talking about his brothers who are “out” and will be back any minute. She starts visiting him regularly because she likes him, but she suspects his brothers might be dead and he just can’t face it. One day she gets attacked by a wild boar and injures her ankle. Choso finds her and takes her back to the tower. She faints and wakes up to find that he’s locked her in the top of the tower and won’t let her leave, because he’s afraid she’ll leave and never come back, just like his brothers. Choso as a classic Yandere. Reader’s only plan is to grow her hair out long enough to make a rope with it to escape. 

Higuruma x Little Mermaid

Reader is a mermaid in love with a lawyer who lives in a coastal town and specializes in shipping contracts (Higuruma). She makes a deal with the sea witch and signs the contract to get human legs in exchange for her voice, but when she formally meets Higuruma, she ends up showing him the contract. He’s flattered that she did all this for him, but (like in the original story) the new legs cause her terrible pain, every step feeling like walking on glass (seriously the original story was fucked up). Will this genius lawyer be able to find a loophole in her contract and free her? 

Sukuna x Sleeping Beauty

Reader is a princess who was cursed at birth. If she ever pricks her finger on a needle, she’ll fall into a deep sleep/coma. Her parents recently died, leaving her as the young ruler. Her first step is to hire a new captain of the guard, a mysterious and powerful man rumored to be a murderer (Sukuna). She’s instantly attracted to him, and despite her obvious flirting, he rejects her everytime, smugly saying a dainty princess like her couldn’t handle him. But when she ends up pricking her finger, Sukuna recognizes the curse, and knows that she’s still aware of everything, can still feel and hear everything. And the only way to break the curse is to fuck her. 

Nanami x Beauty and the Beast

Since multiple people mentioned wanting Reader to be the Beast, I’m going for it! That’s right, Beast Tamer Nanami! Reader was cursed by a witch to be a beast (she’s still cute though, more like a lil bunny girl lol) and her royal parents are ashamed of her so they banish her to a secluded castle. Then they hire Nanami to take care of the place (and Reader). 

[steddieunderdogfics]

Recommend the following fics (in no particular order as they are all great) for the werewolf challenge:

Can you keep a secret? by Piratefishmama

Hungry Like The Wolf by Beetlesandstars

Hunter's Moon by Mourningshowers

Bark At The Moon by Rock_n_roads

Safe Haven by sidekick_hero

Of Wolf and Man by Thisapplepielife

Hungry Like The Wolf by beetlesandstars

@beetlesandstarss

Rating: Mature

10,415 words, 1/1 chapters

Archive Warning: No Warnings

Tags: Werewolf Steve Harrington, Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Vomiting, Gay Eddie Munson, Bisexual Steve Harrington, First Kiss, Sharing a Bed, Feelings Realization, Coming Out, Confessions

Summary

“Are you a manifestation of my subconscious?” Eddie asks, tentatively shuffling closer to the wolf. He sways a little, stage-whispering, “What are you trying to tell me?” He knows the pills he took were strong but, well - he didn’t think they were ‘hallucinate a giant dog’ strong. (Or, the one where Steve turns into a wolf and befriends Eddie Munson.)

Thanks for the rec!

This rec is a part of Theme Weekend. The theme this weekend is Werewolf AU.

Know a fic that deserves extra love? Submit through our asks or the submission box!

[discordiansamba]

thinking about zuko's first transformation in the traditional werewolf au because like. okay. it's this big dramatic moment. iroh has been dreading its approach for days, knowing what he knows about the exact curse that his nephew has found himself with. he's genuinely afraid that he will lose him, so the least he can do is minimize the damage zuko can do.

he has the helmsman take their ship out to deep waters, and has the crew board their steamship and put considerable distance between them. zuko enters the brig, the sturdiest place on the ship and is locked in. iroh watches as the full moon rises over the horizon and braces himself for the worst. he hears the howl of a wolf tear through the air-

-and then... it's quiet?

iroh frowns. he presses his ear against the brig door. he can sort of hear zuko moving around in there. he peeks through the hole in the door, and can just barely make out his nephew, his body twisted into wolf-shape. he's just... investigating the brig? his ears twitch and he looks up in iroh's direction.

...is he wagging his tail?

cautiously, iroh opens the door and finds that zuko... seems fine, actually. maybe a little cranky. iroh is very confused. the legends speak of a violent anger that comes upon the werewolf in their first transformation, driving them to madness. but all zuko is doing is investigating the ship with his new senses.

the night passes, and his nephew becomes human again. he's tired and hungry, with a bit of a headache. but he seems... completely fine. iroh asks him about it and zuko frowns. yeah. he guesses he felt a little angrier than usual, but...

iroh pinches the bridge of his nose. of course. his nephew is always angry. he has been angry since the agni kai. anger is his new constant. iroh has been troubled by this very turn in his nephew, but of all things, for that anger to wind up protecting him?

...well. he's just glad zuko is alright.

[delopsia]

Coyote | Miles Miller x Reader

Word Count: 7,500 Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+. AFAB!Reader, wolf! Reader, coyote! Miles (it's a werewolf AU with a twist), mentions of food PTSD and forced marriage, running away together, car sex, and overstimulation. No established time setting, so you can imagine this as a modern! AU or canon to when the movie took place :) Brief Summary: You've got no choice but to marry the son of a rivaling family in order to bring unity once and for all. But on the night before your dreaded wedding, Miles makes good on your wish to run away together.

This bed used to be comfortable.

Falling into it once felt like plummeting through the sky and being caught by a giant, fluffy cloud. Soft, delicately scented sheets, washed in a laundry detergent exclusively used for this room alone. One of the many perks of the honeymoon suite, alongside the extra space, pink interior, and a promise of complimentary, sweet drinks, so long as you took the time to visit the front desk and ask for them. 

Your head lifts, craning to peer over your shoulder. The sleeping body that occupies your bed isn't the one that you're used to. Stiff. Not the snuggly presence that you've grown to associate with this mattress. His back has long since turned to you, growled snores rattling every last nerve you've got. And yet, you can't help but be thankful that he's not awake and looking at you. 

Because then you'd be forced to confront the reality of this situation you've found yourself in. 

Reluctant, your eyes flick to the dresser. It's usually up beneath the two-way mirror, but now, it has found itself awkwardly shoved into a vacant corner. If only the stark white wedding dress sitting on top of it had taken note and miraculously found its way into the dumpster. But like the gaudy ring sitting atop the bedside table, it hasn't moved an inch.

Come dawn, his nameless sisters will rush into the room and help shove you into it all. Dressing you in costume like one of their childhood dolls, powdering your face with extravagant makeup, and helping you into those too-high shoes that your future mother-in-law so stubbornly insisted you wear. As if walking down that aisle wasn't hard enough, to begin with. 

It's cruel, truly. 

Your feet are destined to walk a fine line between two families. To become the glue—no, the contract that will bind them together for the rest of eternity. A purpose that was placed upon your shoulders before they had even formed in the womb. Because a bunch of old men and women couldn't settle things like adults, crying about how its not the way your ancestors would have wanted it.

Werewolves. Stuck so far in the past that even modern history does not recognize them. 

Up until recent, you'd found them all to be the same. Clinging to the shiny title of their ancestors, vying to establish themselves using the accomplishments of those before them. Stubbornly clinging to their old ways, fearing the concept of change more than the fangs of a hungry vampire.

You'd thought it when you were approached with the demand that you meet the son of the family that rivaled your own. Travel from the warm comforts of one state and into a cold, unfamiliar one every weekend to meet him and to fall in love. And if you could not find love, you would need to learn tolerance. Accept this unhappy future for the sake of the family, they said. For your troubles, you were offered a reservation at a comfortable hotel. A place to rest in between the drive and enjoy the last of your freedoms before the wedding bells rang. 

Oh, but that doe-eyed boy behind the reception desk...

Miles.

In the past, you've heard your family refer to families of coyote-based shifters, but until you stumbled into this little hotel, you'd never met one in person. And even then, you couldn't pick one out of a lineup if your life depended on it. But from the moment you heard him knock on your door during your very first stay, you'd known something was different about him. 

"I-I'm sorry," he stuttered, wild blue eyes darting every which way as he held out a small, familiar object in his hand. Your wallet. "You—you forgot this on my desk."

He could have kept it. Lord knows he needed every penny in there, but he'd brought it back to you just as you'd left it. 

"Oh," quite frankly, you were speechless. Even now, you can't think of anything you could have said to fill the awkward gap of silence as you took it from his hand. "Thank you..." Your eyes frantically scanned across his jacket for that damned name tag. But it was upside down. Forcing you to tilt your head for a better read. "Miller?"

His eyebrows furrowed. Head tilted, like you had just spoken in a different language. "Huh?"

"That's your name, isn't it?" You nodded towards the nametag. 

He had to follow your gaze to figure out what you were looking at. And as soon as he realized, his hands jumped into the air. "Oh!" Scurrying to fix it. Laughing. "I'm—I'm sorry. It's...my name is Miles..." Then, paused as he was in the process of flipping it, hesitantly meeting your eye. "Miller is my last name." 

The only thing you'd known to do was to smile and correct yourself, but now the silence was unbearable. Miles and his awkward grin, wringing his hands, eyes flicking every which way. But then, all of a sudden, his head snapped toward the double doors of the lobby. He'd heard something, but you couldn't pick up a damn thing. Even as he apologized and darted off, you couldn't figure out what the hell he was hearing. 

Strangest of all, a strange scent clung to the fabric of your wallet. Earthier. Like standing in a forest after a storm. That was no wolf scent; in fact, you had never encountered it before. 

What was it? 

You got your answer when, on your second visit, he ambled back up to your door—carrying a slice of pie fresh out of the oven, still steaming and hot to the touch. The same flavor you had looked for when you first arrived at the hotel, only to find that it was the one flavor freshly sold out. Originally, it was an apology for the off-putting note he'd left you on, but then he'd accidentally let go of the plate before you fully had a hold of it. 

He'd yipped the moment the ceramic hit the ground. Then burst into an apology, claiming the noise to be some 'dumb coyote thing.'

The walk back to get another slice ended in chatter that has yet to die down. 

Maybe he bewitched you with the sweet treats and cozy blankets he brought out of the exclusive bungalows because you didn't like the texture of the ones typically used to furnish your room. Or it could have been the soft touches and delicately whispered comments as if speaking any louder would cause the sentiment to lose all of its meaning. 

But one way or another, you found your arms wrapped around those lithe shoulders. Catching each and every single one of his flurried kisses. Soft and giving, never demanding a thing, and so, so eager to give everything to you, even if that wasn't very much to start with. Stumbling backward until the back of your knees hit the bed, losing your balance in an instant. 

You haven't quit falling since.

The body next to yours shifts, rolling closer to you, and the hand that skims your back does nothing but make you wriggle to the edge of the bed. Those aren't the hands that you've grown accustomed to, appearing softly at first. Feather-light fingertips stroking up the curve of your waist, gradually gaining confidence in his touch the further he goes until he flattens his palm against your belly.

A part of you can still hear what Miles would say right now.

"Is this still okay?" His lips always brush against your bare shoulder. Always seeking the reassurance that the boundary is still where it was a couple of hours ago, perhaps due to his own wavering line of what he can and can't handle. 

The following whispered consent is religiously rewarded with a lingering kiss, his warm breath fanning out against your skin. Followed by another. And another. Guiding himself up your cheek to press one to your lips before nuzzling his nose into your neck.

They say coyotes and wolves don't mix, but you go together like lightning and thunder. Where Miles is swift and flickering, you are the booming, large presence that follows. 

Tap.

Your head lifts.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

There's nobody outside the window; there are no curtains, no scent to reveal their presence. Your eyes are designed for this very lighting, and yet, you cannot spot a single thing out of place. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It's not coming from the window. No, the tapping is...inside the room. 

As slow as you can physically manage, you slip from the bed, careful not to disturb your sleeping partner. The last thing you feel like dealing with is a know-it-all man stealing the reins from your more-than-capable hands. Like he did when Miles turned up at the door, returning the ring you intentionally left at his desk. He damn near shoved you out of the way, unable to allow a coyote like Miles around you, even for a second. 

Tap. Tap. 

Coming from your right. But that doesn't make any...

the mirror.

The mirror is open. 

"Miles," you can barely recall the sensation of your feet crossing the floor. Slipping into his warm arms before you can think twice, uncaring of the awkward gap you must lean over. "How did you..."

"Shh," squeezing you as close as he can possibly manage. "If he catches us..." 

You'll both be dead. 

But the continued, growling snores insist he's not waking anytime soon. 

Reluctant, you peel yourself away from him. Too eager to get a glimpse of his face. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to—I..." he pauses. Recollecting himself. Squeezing your shoulders in his palms. "Do you remember what you said about wantin' to run away with me?"

You don't...you don't know what to say. Head tilting to glance at the occupied bed. Then to your luggage. Just moments ago, you were daydreaming about Miles, but, but... God, where will you go? How will he hide you from the sensitive noses of your family?

"I—I got my car workin' again, and I found scent blockers, and," he gulps so hard that his Adam's apple bobs. Frantic eyes flicking to the bed. Then back to you. "I ain't been there in a while, but I've still got that little apartment I told you 'bout."

You know where he's going with this. And your heart is hammering against your chest. Begging you to say yes. But your head knows better. There's no way you can escape without being caught. "Miles..."

"I know I ain't got all that much. I don't...I know I can't give you the same kind of life he could, but I..." his forehead presses against yours. Big, warm hands rising to curl around your cheeks. Blocking out the rest of the world as his heart continues to pour off of his tongue. "I can promise I'll love you until you're absolutely sick of me. Like you are of that pie I keep bringin' you."

As if that wasn't enough, he leans in and seals it by leaning in and meeting your lips. The gentlest of locks, hardly enough to count as a kiss at all. It feels like the first, all over again.

And you'll be damned if it's the last. 

It takes five and a half steps to reach your suitcase. Three to slip into your shoes. One more to snatch that gaudy ring off of the bedside table. Ugly but valuable, given all of the things you've heard about it since it was shoved onto your finger. 

The wheel clangs against the wall as you lift it. Miles goes pale. You freeze. The whole world stops turning. Slow, as if moving too quickly will cause the man in bed to stir, you turn your head. 

Still asleep. 

Getting the suitcase through the mirror should have been the hard part, but in reality, it's figuring out how to get up and swing your legs through the gap without smacking your head on the top. Miles's guiding hands are the only thing that helps you pull it off, firm against your waist, holding you firm in the event you lose your balance. 

One foot leaves the worn hotel carpet.

The other lands on the solid, cement floor of the hidden corridor. 

Miles swings the mirror shut. The latches audibly slide back into place. And suddenly, it's completely and utterly silent. Mere feet away from a man you've already forgotten the name of. Maybe you would remember if your attention wasn't wrapped up in the sight of Miles himself. Soft and real and dressed in that cozy mustard yellow cardigan. 

He looks at you.

You look at him.

For a split second, telepathy is real. And you're both thinking the same damn thing. 

"Oh, what the heck," he breathes, arms already beginning to open up, "c'mere."

It's the easiest thing you've done in your life. Stepping forward, shrinking that gap between your bodies in an instant. Arms draping across those lithe shoulders, noses crashing together as he clumsily kisses you. Careful arms curling around your waist.

Oh, it's everything you were just dreaming about. The dizzying sensation of him using his weight to push your back up against the chilly cement wall. Such a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating off of him, daring to press up against you. 

You're melting like ice cream in the sweltering summer sun. Fingers lazily tangling in his hair, falling into the plush caress of his lips against yours. He tastes like the cola he keeps hidden behind the bar, so sweet that you reckon he's giving you a secondhand sugar rush, chasing away the remnants of sleep that still cling to your psyche.

The tips of his fingers brush at your nape, crawling to trace against your cheek, then down your shoulder. Can never seem to keep those big, weathered hands occupied for more than a few seconds at a time. Always has to be moving. Always. 

You need to get going. Run before anyone notices your absence and comes looking. Can't even begin to imagine the things they would say if they walked in on you like this. Running away on the night before your wedding, tangled up with your new lover before a minute has even passed.

"Miles..." speaking against his lips. A half-assed effort that dies down as soon as he closes that gap again. Leading with his nose, the cold tip of it brushing against your cheek. 

"We should stop..." he whines into your kiss like he's been longing for it all his life. On the same damn page as you, just as helpless, too. "We should..." 

His hips twitch forward. Clumsily knocking into yours. The slightest brush of your bodies, and yet it's enough for you to catch onto what you've done to him. Hard as a rock in those stretchy work pants, so damn visible that you can see the bulge of his cock, right here in the dark. 

Bold, you push forward. Foreheads bumping together as Miles struggles to back track, feet tangling, falling back against the wall with a surprised grunt. Wide eyes peer back at you, confused, but only for a moment. His unspoken question is answered by the sudden pressure of your palm, curling around the outline of him through his slacks. 

Those pretty eyes fall shut, sucking in a breath. "Wha—here?"  Though he's not putting up much of an argument against it. Struggling to suppress the whine that rolls past his lips, hips twitching up into you. So, so sensitive, no matter how many times you've done this to him.

"Do you want me to stop?" You're almost certain what his answer will be, thumb already toying with the metal of his button. 

But his silence still has you waiting. 

His head drops, forehead landing against your shoulder, almost ashamed to whisper, "...no." 

The drag of his zipper is enough to make the button pop loose, so cheaply made that it was barely fastened in the first place. Your daring fingers slip inside, seeking the soft material of his boxers...that you don't find. 

No, instead, your fingertips brush against warm skin, not another layer of clothing there to separate you from his heavy cock. And despite your surprise, your hand is already wrapping around him. 

"Had a customer while I was gettin' dressed," Miles blurts, suddenly talkative as you give him a loose, experimental stroke, figuring out which angle is most comfortable for your arm, "I didn't have time—oh," your thump swipes over his weeping tip, always so wet for you, "and then, and then you walked in the door and I..."

"Forgot?" Filling in the blanks. Hardly able to pay attention to what he's saying. Too busy paying attention to the weight of him in your grasp, how his cute hips rock back and forth on their own, subtle accord. You shouldn't get this much pleasure out of stroking him, spreading his precum down his shaft. 

His head nods against your shoulder, hair tickling your neck. "Uhuh."

Your eyes flick to the mirror, peering through the darkness of the hotel room you were in just minutes ago. Not a soul has noticed your absence yet. But even if they had, you don't think you'd be able to care. Too wrapped up in the soft whimpers that fall off Miles's tongue, the way they grow louder when your spare hand twists in his hair, pulling gently. 

His head lifts, and your mouths crash together with all the grace of a trainwreck. Teeth clattering. Tongues meeting without a shred of notice. Messily tangling in the chilly air. Punctuated by Miles's sharp inhale. 

Outside, a truck engine roars to life. 

"Car," Miles chokes, "we gotta..." 

It's the biggest power struggle of the century, his lithe body rolling against yours, too eager to feel you and have you and eat you alive, all at the same time. The sly twist of your wrist does absolutely nothing to help his case, eyes scrunching shut at the feeling. He's only got control of his hand, darting into his pocket. Returns with a thin plastic tube that you smell before you see. 

Roll-on scent blocker. The nastiest combination of chemicals you've ever encountered, but they do their job as promised. Warm against your temple as he rubs it on you, covering your scent glands, one at a time. The ones on your neck, behind your ears, and the insides of each of your wrists, that horrid, sterile stench assaulting your nose like a bad memory. An unpleasant experience drawn out by the way you continue to torment your lover, thumb massaging beneath his sensitive tip all the while

But it's on, and Miles is damn dragging himself away, shoving himself back into the confines of his pants before he can even begin to second-guess his decision. Lips so wet that they shine, catching in the fraction of light provided in this dark little corridor as he bends down to grab the handle of your suitcase.

"Car," he repeats as if he's trying to convince himself more than you.

His spare hand reaches out, an open invitation that you're already halfway into taking. Fingers locking around each other, tightening as he guides you down this maze of a hallway. Past room after room, around two sharp bends, toward a dull, hardly helpful light. You're pretty sure he borrowed that bulb from one of the bungalows after management defaulted on their usual payment for supplies. 

You wonder if this is the last time you'll ever see this hotel. 

The somewhat offputting taxidermy behind the reception desk. Clashing with the refined purples and blues of this section of the building. Dusty gambling machines and tables that haven't seen a game since last winter are now only useful for storing cleaning products and a stash of towels. 

All so dead compared to the vivid gold, orange, and brown across the room. Warm lighting and the equally cozy booths snuggled into the lower floor. Far too pretty to be surrounded by a floor tile that aims to recreate an enchanting stone pathway, and has instead become a heaven to dirt and trash that no mop or vacuum can fully collect. 

It's all there and gone in a second, cut short by the squeal of the front doors, opening up to a big, rainy world, all yours to explore. The parking lot is so flooded that it's become one big puddle, splashing as you run through it, licking at your exposed ankles. You can hardly tell where you're going, blindly led by the hand that has yet to let go of yours. 

The car is parked all by its lonesome in the center of the lot, away from the other residents and directly across from the vehicle you were driven here in. Only when you're close does Miles let go of you, treading toward the back of the vehicle while you reach for the car door. You've never been so thankful to find that something is unlocked, damn near falling into the backseat.

Miles is on you before you even hear the trunk close. Hips slotting between your thighs as he squirms on top of you, giggling as he trails kisses up the side of your neck. Leading himself over your jaw and across your cheek, moving so quickly that it almost tickles. Only pausing to linger when he meets your mouth, humming like the cat who got the cream. 

"Whole darn weddin' party is parked out here," he grunts, unabashedly rolling himself against your thigh, "almost feel bad for stealin' you away."

"Don't," sucking in a breath, tugging at that damned cardigan of his, "the wedding was more for them than it was for me."

He leans back on his haunches, tugging the flimsy material from his shoulders. Tosses it somewhere up in the front seat. "Promise I won't make ya feel like that if we ever get to have one."

Your head is spinning, struggling for an ounce of sanity in this cramped little car as you reach to push your shorts down your legs. "Do you want me to go back for the dress so you can marry me before the sun is up?" Half joking. 

You fear you'd do it if he asked. 

But his head just shakes, already beginning to fumble with the buttons of his work shirt. "Nah,"  two snap off entirely, scattering into the leather seat. By the time you realize he's got it off, he's already halfway into peeling that final layer over his head. He's on you before the old tee has even landed on the floorboard. Returning to his favorite place between your legs. "You were right when you said that the dress doesn't suit ya at all."

It's hard to lift your hand to your heart and feign shock when his chest is pressed up against your own, careful lips pressing kisses to the underside of your jaw. Hell, working up a tone of mock surprise is even a task. "You were watching me change?"

"You," kiss, "were facing the mirror," another kiss, "lookin' right back at me the whole time." One more, right on your lips. Too innocent for what goes on down below, the heavy bulge of his cock rubbing against you.

On their own accord, your legs are circling him, pulling those lithe hips even closer; he's got the idea, already beginning to grind into you in earnest. Makes it so, so hard for you to focus on your half-assed attempt at defending yourself. "I was trying to see what I looked like!" 

"Do you always mouth my name when you undress?" His words come out breathy, like the very memory is enough to get under his skin. "Had half the mind to open the mirror right then 'n there."

You can't even begin to imagine what kind of hell would unravel if he'd done that. Haven't a doubt in your mind that you would have been on him in a second, much like you are right now. Frenzied hands smoothing past his biceps, scurrying up to slide across his back. Silky smooth beneath your palms, interrupted by a raised scar that sits next to the knobs of his spine, with a story you'd rather not recall. 

All too quickly, it's fallen quiet in this little car. Nothing but the soft pitter-patter of rain against the roof, set alight by the distinct red glow of the grand, neon sign hanging overhead. As if anyone could possibly forget they were staying at the El Royale. So damn bright that it reflects off Miles's pale skin, glistening as he kisses down your neck, soft mouth so feather-light that it tickles in the best of ways.

He jerks backward. Face twisting like he's eaten something sour. Barely manages to keep his eyes open. 

"Get a taste of that scent blocker?" You giggle, already halfway into reaching up, curling your palm around his cheek. Now, it's your hand that is bathed in the warm, red glow. 

"Uhuh," and he's already responding to the faint nudge of your fingertips, eyelashes fluttering closed as he meets you halfway.

And despite it all, it's as gentle as it has always been. The sort of thing that melts you around the edges, with the slow guide of his lips, massaging against yours in an elegant dance that no soul can recreate. Head spinning like a tiny ballerina in a music box, moving to a melody that only you two can hear.

But then your delicate tongue is swiping against his lower lip, and he's parting with a dizzying gasp. Downright placid as you lick into his mouth, so shy he can hardly rise to greet you, darting away the moment you meet. But then he's back again, lazily tangling with you, fleeting meetings and contented hums, bodies pressing impossibly closer. His hips involuntarily twitch up into yours, the outline of his cock rubbing against your cunt, and the two thin layers between you do nothing to stop you from feeling how he spasms in his slacks. 

Your touches are wandering. Skating down his neck and across his chest, svelte and gently muscled, like you're running your palms across a marble statue. Dancing over the slight dent of a scar on his belly, the one he's only recently felt comfortable having touched, past the divots of his ribs and down his sensitive sides. 

He's everything, and he doesn't even know it.

"Miles..." gasping into his mouth, breathless. 

His head tilts. You can almost see those large, pointed ears twisting on the sides of his head. Always curious. "Hm?"

Hell. You don't even know what you were saying his name for. Wordless, your hand continues to wander between your bodies and across the hem of his pants, cupping him through them. Rewards you with a groan far too loud for this tranquil backseat. 

Overhead, thunder rolls as if Mother Nature herself has risen from her slumber to remind you of where you are. How easily you can get caught if someone notices your absence and walks out into the parking lot. One little peak into the windows is all it would take. 

You don't have the luxury of taking your time. Not tonight, at least.

So you do the only thing you can think of. You hitch your thumbs into the waistband of your underwear and tug. With Miles between your legs, you're forced to draw your knees to your chest to fully draw them down, forcing him to lean back. He's already batting your hands away, pulling the thin material past your heels and dropping them on top of his own clothes. 

It happens so quickly compared to how slowly things were progressing just moments before. Your curious fingers pulling at his zipper for the second time today, too eager to see him spill out of his slacks once more, pink tip flushed so red that it rivals the neon glow cast upon you. Not necessarily big in size, but thick enough for it to be noticeable.

Ugh, you hadn't realized how wet you were until now, cunt leaving him glistening from dragging between your folds alone. 

"Fuck," you whisper over an airy breath, struggling to keep your eyes open, "I missed this." 

The corner of Miles's lip rises, eyelashes fluttering like tiny butterflies, bashfully smug in a fashion that only he can pull off. His mouth moves, but not a word comes out, too focused on watching his cock head drag against your clit to produce more than a hum. Those narrow hips have already found the pace you didn't realize you were craving; he always has been a quick learner. 

It's mesmerizing to watch the plush tip gliding in and out of your view, leaking a bead of precum that gets lost in your wetness. And you can't help but reach down and run your fingers overtop of him, feeling over the myriad of bulging veins. 

Without warning, his body twitches backward a smidgen too far, unintentionally sliding down to nudge against your entrance. Delicious pressure blooms, and you fear you're too far gone to put it off any longer. Eager hands rise to curl around his biceps, squeezing lightly as his head slips inside.

"I..." those eyes of his are focused where your bodies meet, helpless to stop himself as he sinks into your pussy, "condom...forgot..." 

A part of you should be worried about it. There's no way that you'll be able to go inside and clean up, and lord only knows how long it'll take to get to his apartment. Yet your eager legs are wrapping around him before he can think twice about it, drawing him deeper. 

"That's okay," you pant, don't particularly mind the idea of feeling him spasm and fill you up again. It's been so long that you can't remember the last time it happened. 

Six weeks without him was far too long. This is what you've been missing. The heavy drag of him inside you, curved in such a way that he rubs into the nerves hidden there, kissing them on his way past. A dull ache grows as he stretches you open, so damn thick that you ought to win an award for taking him to the base. 

Miles wavers, forearms shivering as he fights to keep himself upright. A weak leaf shaking in the wind, breaking the moment you pull him in, collapsing into you with a loud, echoing whimper. He's already bottoming out, the soft material of his pants flush against your ass. There goes every bit of rationality you have left. 

"You can move," you're speaking clearly. At least, you think you are, but your favorite coyote doesn't seem to hear you. Soft nose bumping into the side of your neck, a little too comfortable there. "Miles."  Nothing.

Your hand slips down to smack his ass. 

He grunts. Jolting into you. Whether or not he heard what you said is anyone's guess, but he's starting to move. Peeling his soft, warm body backward, cock withdrawing. For a moment, you can breathe. Blessed with a moment of sanity before he sinks back in, gingerly nudging the air from your lungs.

"Is that..." his warm cheek brushes against yours. Always has to be so close, "Is that okay?" The swell of his ass pushes into your hand; you can't help but grab a handful of it.

"More than okay," it's difficult to recognize this tone of your voice, so airy that it might as well have been whispered by the wind. 

You don't understand how something simple can feel so good. The gentle roll of his hips are so fluid that his thrusts almost feel smooth. No harsh smack of skin on skin or jostling meetings of your bodies, the curve of his cock rubbing into every nerve it can find. Has your cunt so wet around him that you can hear it. Sickening squelches too damn out of place for such delicate movements. 

Lips ghost across the side of your jaw, peppered by the faint whimpers that slip from Miles's throat, fussy in that stereotypical coyote fashion. It does nothing to change what you're feeling, yet you're pulsing around him, set off by those sweet little noises. 

"You look so beautiful underneath me," he mewls against the corner of your lips, half-lidded eyes gazing down at you with a familiar glimmer. Only he can look at you like that. Not anyone you've ever crossed paths with. And certainly not the man you were meant to marry come sunrise. 

Your legs are squeezing tighter around him, drawing his warm frame impossibly close, as if he could slip away from you at any given moment. Best of all, he lets you. Situating his forearms to rest on either side of your head, chests snug against each other, leaning up just enough to keep looking into your eyes. One of those big hands curls around your cheek, cradling it like glass. 

His angle shifts, driving up into those little nerves so hard that your legs twitch, body jerking on its own accord. Must be a mutual thing because it has you gasping against each other's lips, quiet whines dancing through the dark car and out into the parking lot, washed away by the pouring rain. 

"I can't get enough of you," Miles croaks, a little waver in his tone. All of a sudden, his eyes squeeze shut. Brows knitting together with a pained noise. 

"Miles?" The haze is dissipating, your careful hands rising to cradle his head.  "Are you okay?" 

For a moment, he doesn't move.  

"Uhuh," shallowly nodding, like that little motion even manages to hurt him, "I pulled a muscle in my back the other day, 's all." But then his body twitches forward, driving his cock back into you, and his face twists again.

You're only got one solution on deck.

Despite the overwhelming sense of emptiness you're left with when Miles pulls out of you, sitting up is easy. He doesn't need any help falling into the seat, legs a smidgen too long to sit back here, his knees digging into the backside of the passenger seat. And you're fortunate that the ceiling in this car is rather high because sitting on his lap puts you up much higher than you expected.

His hand disappears between your thighs, carefully taking hold of himself and guiding the tip back to nudge at your cunt. Ugh, it's perfect. The aching stretch of taking him once more, how he manages to still find those niche little spots that toys always seem to miss. So good that your jaw is slack before you've even taken all of him.

"Better?" You're already breathless, arms lazily coming to rest around his shoulders. 

He's not doing much better than you are, head leaned back against the cushion, peering back at you with such an unfocused gaze that you reckon he might be on another planet. "Uhuh." But his hands rise to squeeze the sides of your hips, hanging on as you rise up.

You're gonna be in so much trouble if one of your wedding guests walks outside and catches a glimpse of your silhouette rising and falling. Never in their wildest dreams would they suspect that you're getting fucked by the coyote from the front desk. Your dripping pussy clenching around him like a vice, so wet that he almost slips out of you entirely.

"Fuck," hissing, your nails biting into the back of his pale neck, "Miles."

You were trying to go slow, but you can hardly control your own body, rhythm dissolving before you can even get it established—short, jerky movements, so frenzied that you can feel the vehicle sway with it. Mouths clash. Teeth knocking together. Miles and his pitchy whimpers damn near eat you alive. 

"This is so bad," he's panting like a dog, cheeks flushed so red that you can see it through the neon glow. "So bad..."

Beneath you, his hips jerk upward, meeting you halfway. By the sound of it, he surprises both of you, crying out so sharply that you reckon the whole damn hotel heard it. You can't even find it in yourself to worry about getting caught. Not when he's twitching inside of you, hitting right where you crave him most.

 "Feels good, feels good, oh my god," tears welling up in his eyes, already threatening to creep past his waterline, "fuck."  Whimpering in the pitchiest little tone you've ever heard out of him. 

He's so perfect. You think you could die happy right here and now.

It's so distracting that you don't realize what he's doing until his rough thumb is bumping against your clit. His pressure wavers, light as a feather one moment and then directly rubbing into it the next, struggling to keep up with your frenzied pace. But it's...it's...

"Miles, keep—" begging like your life depends on it. Punctuated by the lewd slap of skin on skin. "Keep doing that."

Those tears spill over his cheeks, a hiccup bubbling out of him, unraveling right in front of you. His legs squirm behind you, knees knocking together, can't stay still to save his life. 

"Oh god, oh god," he's babbling. Head lolling back and forth like it's too heavy for him to keep up, yet his watery eyes remain on you, never once glancing away.

It's so much. You don't—you don't know how you're keeping it together. An ache blooming in the muscle of your thighs, knees digging uncomfortably into the crook of the seat. You're certain it'll leave a visible mark on them, but you can't stop. Hopelessly chasing the kiss of his cock head against your nerves and the drag of his length inside of you.  

"I'm gonna...I'm gonna..." you know what he's trying to say; you're feeling it too. He stiffens, fighting to speak. "Baby, I'm gonna cum in you if you don't stop—"

"Cum in me, Miles," cutting him off entirely. Too damn impatient to keep quiet. Not when you can already feel a burning coil in your lower belly, winding tighter and tighter. 

Those pretty blue eyes roll into the back of his head without further warning. Back arching, hips lifting off the seat, lips parted with a silent cry. The thumb on your clit spasms in tune with his cock, pulsing deep inside, flooding your pussy with his cum. 

But you're not there yet. Trapped on a frustrating edge that you can't seem to fall over. Clenching so tight around him that you can already feel his cum spilling out and onto his pants, making a horrible mess that you don't have the means to clean. Your dominant hand drops down, knocking his out of the way, fingertips finding your clit.

All of a sudden, Miles is alive. His whole body jerks. Squirming back and forth. Whimpering.  Whining. Feet kicking at the floorboard. It's too much for him, you know it is, but this isn't his first rodeo, and he's not telling you to stop. 

"Feels too good, feels—" his hands clamp over his own mouth, one over top of the other, and even that hardly works. 

"No," pawing at his wrists with your other hand, half-hearted, but the intent is still there. "I wanna hear you." 

And he does. Arms hesitantly falling. Grabbing at the seats like he doesn't trust himself to not do it again. His head tilts back, a flurry of short, pitchy noises falling from his parted lips. Moaning like a cheap whore. Oversensitive. So damn eager to let you use him. Uncaring of who may overhear or what goes on outside this tiny car.

Heat rushes through you, skin prickling with a familiar tension. There's a tremor in your thighs that wasn't there before, cunt fluttering around him, muscles set alight. The coil in your lower belly winding tighter and tighter until you can't fucking breathe. 

"C-cum," Miles stammers through a hiccup, blinking up at you, "cum on my cock, please." 

And you do. Freezing without an ounce of warning, the car seeming to spin on its own as your orgasm finally, finally washes over you. It's as if you've been sucked out the window and up into the storm clouds above, absolutely fucking weightless as you cum around his cock. Every little twitch has him bumping into those abused spots, so exhausted that the only thing they can do is send a tingle through your thighs.

It takes you a good minute to realize why your forehead is so warm all of a sudden. 

"I think..." Miles only starts talking when you lift your face from the crook of his shoulder, leaning back to get a look at him, "I think you almost killed me." But he accepts your kiss without complaint, humming into it with a grin.

"I can take you for another round if that's what you want," teasing, just to get a reaction out of him. You don't know if you could go again, even if you wanted to.

His head shakes back and forth, tear-stained cheeks glistening in the light. "Nuh-uh," interrupted by a giggle, "doll, you wear me out anymore, 'n I'll be asleep before you're even finished with me."

Your noses unintentionally bump into each other, a little too close. Miles shakes his head once more, rubbing them together.

"You still certain you wanna run with me?" He murmurs after a moment. There's a softness in his eye that suggests he wouldn't hold it against you if you were to turn and go back into your hotel room. Accept an incompatible partner in exchange for certain financial stability and status. 

Someone who doesn't bury his head under your shirt and listen to your heartbeat when the hotel down the road sets off fireworks. Who won't wake you in the middle of the night, shivering over a dream that he never wants to describe. 

Miles doesn't have all that much to offer. You know it. He knows it. But just looking at him has made you happier than anyone else ever has, flaws and all. Lord knows he wasn't lying when he promised to love you until you couldn't stand it because he already does.

You couldn't ask for anything more.

"For you?" Whispering against his lips, a secret to be shared just between the two of you. "Always."

For eleven months, nobody knows what happened to you. 

A newspaper calls you an altar runaway but doesn't quite blame you for doing it, either. Photographs of you litter the streets of your hometown and the little city that the El Royale is considered a part of, but you're a long way from there. Settled down in an adorable apartment, working a job where no one recognizes you. 

You're beginning to think that this is what bliss feels like. Miles and his warm arms, endearing coyote quirks, and sudden bursts of energy that leave you two giggling on the couch or venturing into a diner in a faraway town, just for the hell of it. He breaks apart on some days, but his promise never loses its shimmer, undamaged, regardless of it all.

The author of that article claims she spotted you walking out of a grocery store, hand in hand with a man who smelled like a coyote, with a dainty little ring around your finger. Nobody believes her when she reports it on the front page, and that's okay because it's your own little secret.

It's no one's business where this ring came from, how Miles painstakingly saved and designed it at a jewelry shop down the road, whittled a ring box with his own two hands. Whether or not it's a wedding or a promise ring is anyone's guess; you've no plans to tell. 

"Honey," Miles whines, feet audibly padding into the room. You've hardly got the energy to lift your head. "You gotta quit leavin' your purse on the counter."

Wary, you pry one eye open. "Did you spill water on it again?"

"Might've," and you suppose that's why you can hear the fan running in the dead of winter. 

The bed dips as Miles slips under the covers, bare legs tangling with yours before he can even get settled. One of these days, it will get cold enough to convince him to wear more than just an oversized t-shirt to bed, but today isn't that day. Hell, it may never come because he's long since figured out that he can nuzzle up and steal the heat off of you instead.

 You don't need to look to know that he's beckoning you in; that fussy little whine of his tells it all. Coyotes. Talkative even when they're not using their words. Snuggle bugs, too. Miles already has his head nestled on top of yours, and you're not even finished getting situated. 

"I love you," he whispers, those three little words far too delicate to be said any louder.

"I know," giggling. He told you while you were brushing your teeth just a few minutes ago, can never seem to quit saying it. "I love you too."

This bed is comfortable, but it'll never match the warmth that his arms bring. 

[bubuslutty]

Wolf in sheep’s clothing

Pairing: werewolf!fem reader x werewolf!john price

word count: 715

Tags: werewolf au, smut, m masturbation, cum marking poc friendly, no use of y/n, 3rd person pov, proof read by me

Warnings: minors do not interact!

Summary: John jerks off right in his lamb’s underwear, and she spends the rest of her day with her underwear stained by him.

a/n: this is nasty and i have no excuses. Stop looking at me.

Price’s the alpha of their pack, carrying out many responsibilities on his shoulders and pack. So, it’s not unusual to see him frustrated or agitated under the pressure once in a while. He will somehow grow bigger in size, his back hunching, his shoulders getting closer to his ears and his breathing picking up, gums aching under his fangs.

He’s a force to be reckoned with, especially when he’s really pissed.

And few things can tame the beast trapped in his ribcage, gnawing at him from the inside out, trying to howl, growl and rip apart the flesh of anyone who dares to shake him up.

One of the few things that can manage to knock back the mean beast inside his head, away from the front of his consciousness is his pretty little lamb. She’s a wolf wearing sheep’s clothing, really. She has sharp teeth, and claws to match. And her eyes match the shades of the moon during cursed nights, just like all of her mates, and this includes john price.

She smells him before she even knocks on his office door, reeking frustration and an urge to dig his teeth in warm flesh. But she hasn’t come to sacrifice herself, to offer herself to the beast, to be chewed and spat back out.

Price’s pretty lamb walks around his desk, pretty as stars and the moon, wearing a simple shirt and short skirt over her hips with a pair of socks. She looks cosy, comfortable and smells like home.

He suddenly wants to bite for a whole other reason, not to destroy but to claim and taste. She makes him hungry and he can’t focus on any measly papers spread out in front of him on his desk. His fingers itch to dig themselves into her flesh and for his nose to bury itself in the crook of her neck.

And she doesn’t say anything. She smiles at him, a friendly, loving, innocent smile even. And her fingers reach down to her skirt and lift it up.

Price’s heart jumps up his throat and then down to where his cock is swelling.

Then, with her other hand, she tugs the waistband of her panties away from her skin, and he’s now looking at the curve of her pretty cunt. And she’s looking at him expectantly, gazing at him with stars and sin in her eyes.

She doesn’t have to say anything.

She doesn’t have to ask him anything because Price knows what she wants.

He gulps and stands up, towering over her smaller frame, and wraps one veiny hand around himself. She smiles at him and looks at him like he hung the sun and the moon in the sky with his own hands.

And how can he deny his pretty girl anything?

Price jerks himself furiously over the opening of her panties, wet and filthy, the sounds are the only thing that could be heard in his quiet office, along with his grunts and gasps.

When he cums, his dick jerks and his spend ends up on her lower stomach, the curve of her pussy, catching on the curly hairs and the fabric of her panties, but most of it ends up in the little pocket she made him.

She smells satisfied, his mate smells happy. She smells like she everything John loves and hates at the same time. She smells like wild flowers, rain, and everything that makes him appreciate living, but also like sweet liquor, caffeine and nicotine in one addictive pretty package, slowly killing him.

His lamb and love let go of her panties, the waistband smacking against her perfect skin and there was a filthy wet stain on their front, sticking to her pussy lips. She giggles, stands on her tiptoes and kisses him on the side of his mouth, then on his chin, over his beard.

She fixes her skirt and turns around, skipping out of his office like a dream, like a fae straight out of his darkest dreams.

And John shudders, cock still sticking out of his trousers, heavy, wet and dripping, and realises his lamb is about to spend the rest of her day with her pussy drenched in his cum, in his claim.

John can’t breathe and he loves her so much.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): @obiwankenobis-lap @goapgrim @smalldemonlover @silviafantin15 @reveluving @bobastayhigh @originalsimp @h-leigh @gxldyjess @msdrpreist @chaoticevilbakugo @Lacunaanonymoused @whore4dilfs

[spaceofentropy]

My Stranger Things Fics

... divided by ship and then in chronological order from older to more recent.

No ship

What doesn't kill you makes you a monster - 6165 words; rated M; HEED THE TAGS!; body horror and angst as Steve turns into a half-demobat after all those demobat bites.

Harringrove (Billy/Steve)

Amok - 1927 words; rated T; modern AU where Billy and HoH!Steve stumble upon Billy's mom years later, by chance, in a mall. Angst and messy feelings galore.

Come close - 2965 words; rated T; a meet ugly (you'll see) in a cyberpunk AU.

I just came to say... - 3807 words; rated T; modern AU with hard of hearing Steve's meet cute with Billy in the club!

What doesn't kill you might become your friend - 29005 words; rated E; angst and monsterfucking in the woods. AKA "the one in which werewolf!Billy catches one glimpse of demobat!Steve and goes ABSOLUTELY WOULD!" Starts where 'What doesn't kill you makes you a monster' ends.

In all the worst way - 3443 words; rated G; secret romantic Billy's meet cute with his new hot neighbor.

An affinity for dead things - 67605 words; rated E; necromancer!Steve steals Billy's body from his tomb after Starcourt to resurrect his crush, as one does. Try graverobbing today! It's fun for all the family!

Birthday Boy - 1972 words; rated T; Frat boys Harringrove? Frat boys Harringrove!

A Pirate's Life For Me - 848 words; rated G; a quick prelude to a Princess Bride AU.

Time travel is real - 38738 words; rated E (for blood, not smut); an AU about time travel, pining, and the constant fear of screwing up. Aka: the fix-it fic in which I make everything worse before it gets better.

Flesh for Fantasy - 32474 words; rated E; angsty AU full of pining in which if you Fantasize about someone, that person feels it on their skin. Someone has been Fantasizing about Steve, but they're not sexual Fantasies, just the softest, most restrained touches ever.

As You Wish - 28677 words; rated M; my Princess Bride AU.

The paths of winter - ONGOING; rated E (for some violence); a D&D-esque AU where prince Billy is on a mission for his father and there's an annoying paladin named Steve escorting him to his destination.

Mantras for Maladjusted Mammals - 3395 words; rated G; soulmates, fratboys, and waking up after some bad decisions the night before.

I'm hungry like a wolf - 4141 words; rated T; werewolf AU!

Mungrove (Billy/Eddie)

In plain sight - 4782 words: rated T; Billy vows he won't have fun during the school trip at some science museum. He's not even supposed to be here today!

Free fall - 9250 words: rated M; Mungrove! In space!

Metalsandwich (Billy/Eddie/Steve)

Of soulmates and colors - 78235 words; rated E; very angsty soulmates AU where the world goes into color thanks to your soulmate, but it's more complicated than that, and Upside Down shit abounds. Also, Munson twins!

The hawk, the wolf, and the mouse - 7246 words; rated T; Ladyhawke, but make it gay and with a polycule as the endgame.

Munver/Tigerfreak (Eddie/Jason)

Unscripted - 22889 words; rated E; a no Upside Down AU in which Jason broke his arm and Eddie is helping him with stuff. Enemies to fuckbuddies to lovers with a lot of internalized homophobia.

Wish I Had An Angel - 4473 words; rated E; HEED THE TAGS!; PWP and monsterfucking and a lot of blasphemy all rolled into one weird burrito of altar sex.

Spellcasting & Spitroasting - 21567 words; rated E; a D&D-esque AU. A spell gone wrong, one Jason, five Eddies, a lot of porn. HEED THE TAGS!

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

✯𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐢𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐝 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟?✯

Notes: So like... @mjtheartist04's Little Red Riding AU, amiright??? 👀 This is just a little gift for my pookie 😚🫶🏻 gotta say this one's pulling me out of a writers block, so thanks for having such a clever dream, 'Jay!! 🩶❤️🩶

---------

"I don't believe in fairytales, Genya." Rika stated with a mear shrug, her eyes leaving the young innkeeper as she glances back at the picture etched into the aged paper of a wolf, baring its large teeth at a little girl cowering against a tree deep into dark woods. She closes the burgundy leather clad book, setting it back down atop the dark oak front desk that Genya had tapping his finger against, the tapping in sync with his anxious leg bobbing, causing small whines to leave the old floorboards.

He only grunts in response, his jaw taught as he almost seemed to be grinding his teeth behind his tight lips. It wasn't new to Rika about his behavior, but something about it of all nights felt... Off.

"What? Don't believe in the Big, Bad Wolf?" Genya stated - almost genuine, and Rika would have considered it so if it weren't for the slightly raising of his brows that implicated his comment was supposed to be taken with humor.

Rika returned it with a grin splaying across her lips, bringing a hand up to the end of her crimson colored hood, tugging at it like one would tipping a hat, the action causing some of her Prussian hair to fall at her shoulders from where it had been hidden behind the vibrant fabric. "If that were true, I wouldn't have a job, now would I?" She strides across the room, not leaving Genya's train of eyesight - both not daring to break it just yet.

"To say The Big Bad Wolf would be insinuating the folks around this village believe we're dealing with a Werewolf problem which, of course, is ridiculous." Rika says, Genya tilting his head ever so slightly, eyes squitning just a tad, as though he wasn't curious by the theory, but almost offended.

"Even then, the problem is as obvious as finding the difference between water and wine." Rika gives a lopsided grin, leaning a window at the front of the dimly lit inn.

"Sheep and other wildlife disappearing or found mangled is a simple conclusion: it's just a pack of hungry wolves - actual wolves, I mean. And they just need to be relocated or taken care of."

She turns to the window, using two of her fingers to pry open the dark fusia curtains, just enough to take a peek outside and see her horse chewing at a few weeds that had crept from a few floorboards beneath near the stone streets. For some reason, she didn't feel comfortable on the idea of leaving him out there any longer, wanting to get him to a stable soon before the sun had fully set in only a few minutes.

"Look at that moon... It's beautiful tonight." Rika spoke, her voice a little softer now, dual colored eyes trained on the full pale beauty in the night sky, glistening against her iris’s of blue and pink. "Wven in the dark of night, something about their always being a light, even behind murky clouds... It makes you feel safe, doesn't it?"

"Funny." Genya spits bitterly, his voice breathy and muttered - but Rika caught the venom, almost feeling as though it was aimed at her. "It's funny what the moon does to people." He finishes after a second of silence, now seeing he had Rika’s attention.

Genya's execcent tapping against the counter came to a halt as his nail dug into the carvings, making a small squeaking noise at the traction of his nail splintering into it. He pulls away from it, trudging toward where Rika once was, eyes trained on the book, his buckled boots dragging across the floor, making a noise that didn't bring comfort to Rika, her brows furrowing.

"For most, it brings comfort, a feeling of safety," he picked it up, flipping through the pages, his fingers skimming along the assorted jumble of paragraphs and such, matched with pictures and depictions- his dark eyes lingering on a picture of a man, almost in aogny as his body began to morph into a clawed, fanged, yellow-eyed beast.

"For others, it's a curse, an omen, a warning... For people like me." He snaps the book shut with a feirce 'crack!' As the pages collided shut once more- earning a little flinch from Rika, who had now forgotten her attention on the sky outside, and kept her cautious gaze on the man in front of her.

"Genya... You're scaring me." She speaks, her voice faltering ever so slightly to prove that point, but she still kept her ground, finding her hand slowly making its way toward the hilt of her weapon, hidden behind her cloak.

"I know."  Genya bluntly confirms, finally standing to his full height instead of hunched over the table. Something about him made him almost look taller now. "I can hear your panicked breathing."

The statement had already set enough alarm bells off in Rika’s head, enough for her to start backing away from her close friend- which she immediately regretted, cause Genya must've taken it as a challenge, and with each step she took backwards, he took a step forward.

"What good ears you have." Rika would have said it in a sarcastic dry tone if it weren't for the tremor in her voice, keeping her vocals to a mere mumble.

The pit in her stomach grew deeper and steeper with each step, unable to tear her eyes from Genya, almost in fear that if she did, he'd take that chance and jump at her. Hell. She didn't even want to blink. She felt so... Hunted.

"The better to hear your pretty little heart racing with."

In that moment, watching the cautious steps he took, the way his body almost hunched like an animal hiding in bushes and trees, his eyes trained and laser focused, not a sound coming from him other than his voice. He was like an animal stalking.

And she was prey.

"I can see it too. See your heart pounding in your ribcage... I can see it all." His eyes were like empty sockets, nothing but a blazing gold in place of iris’s that put the dim candlelight in the Inn to shame.

"W-what good eyes you have." Again, Rika stated, and with each one, she was beginning to see a side of Genya she knew she wasn't supposed to see. As a matter of fact, one she was supposed to ever find out about.

"The better to gaze at that face of yours morph into fear." Genya explained almost subtly, like it was passing conversation, his voice low and quiet - different from his usual behavior and mannerism. Rika didn't like it. This wasn't Genya. This wasn't her Genya.

It only took one final step before Rika felt the sensation of the wall, and the pit in her stomach formed so large that she was surprised it hadn't swallowed her whole. The beating in her chest started to sound louder, thundering in her ears so hard in almost hurt. The grip on her weapon stayed firm- but that's where it stayed, her body almost frozen with fear and defeat, leaving her unable to draw put and ready herself for the ever coming attack.

And now, finally unable to escape, she watched helplessly as Genya got closer - painfully slow in doing so, as if he was enjoying the sight as she realized she was cornered and unable to run. Not this time.

His lips curled into something sinister, all teeth and no smile, suddenly, pearly white fangs on display, prodding from his dark gums, his jaw tense and causing the muscles along his neck and collarbone to strain.

"W... What big teeth you have." Rika swallowed thickly, her throat feeling suddenly dry, her body both hot and cold as a sweat begins forming on the back of her neck, and a chill slithers up her spine, like daggers drawing into her skin. Her face was hot, and she thanked heaven above it was too dark to see the red shade her skin had began to become.

At this point, Genya is already too close for comfort. His now clawed hands were splayed out at each side of her face, his face far enough Rika begin could examine the new features starting to become apparent under the moonlight still creeping through the sliver of opened curtains... But he was close enough she could hear the low growl emiting from his throat with his slow rise and fall of his chest.

Genya opened his mouth as though to finish this little banter of words between them, but he simply laughs, a low, slow laugh, his head lolling to the side as he brings his face close to the side of her own, his almost manelike hair tickling against her tan skin, causing goosebumps to ripple along her shoulder.

He brings his hand down from where it was perched, his knuckle barely brushing against her cheek, the cold meeting her warmth was enough to even make him shudder. Tugging a long strand of her dark hair from where it was hidden behind her pointed ear, playing with the strand between his fingers.

"Now that you believe it," He starts, his voice gravelly and low, animalistic, something she hadn't heard out of him before. "Tell me something, Rika..." His breath was hot against her ear, making her hiss ever so slightly between her teeth, trying to cock back from the feeling, but only making contact with his other arm, caging her in.

"Are you scared of the Big, Bad Wolf?"