#Cervitaur male oc
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Sebastian Reference Sheet
Finally! My first humanoid reference sheet is finished! I'm so happy I was able to get this completed. And now he can be used for arts and that all jazz. Note that this character and the artwork used to depict him are both mine. Do not use without my permission!
#artwork#digital art#cervitaur#centaur#deer#fantasy#antlers#male#muscles#beefy#reference sheet#character design#original character#oc#the ugliest hamster
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My new OC is here!
Name: Ross Gender: male Age: unknown Race: Demon Magic: combines nature magic with his demon one
Story: Ross is Patrice and Brock in one person. Brock created another world for her which is full of nature, magic and kingdoms. Ross is combination of Patrice's gentle but hiding nature and Brock's kindness and magic. Ross naturally looks like female, so people mistakes him for her. People also mistakes him for a cervitaur (half-human half-deer), but he accepted it since humans in this world don't like demons. He owns a beautiful kingdom deep in the forest.
#artist on tumblr#original character#Ross#digital art#alternative universe#nature#magic#roses#look at him#he's so cute
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Cervitaur Boyfriend: Rònan
The Dream For Spring
“My lodge is a few miles up from here, a lovely little location not too far from the bay of Alajour or from the neighbouring town of Bedgrove, I’m sure you’re most familiar?”
The voice directed to you was from a middle aged human man you had come to meet named Allard; a humble man and miller who gratefully took you in as an apprentice, giving you an inside look into his work from someone like yourself who would dive in and out of jobs.
Allard was a man you had spotted you... or more so, he had spotted you. He was certainly someone with years of wisdom before him; working in a job that sometimes required him to come in and out of town some days. You had been given good luck by the gods that day when he came up to you and suggested working for him; an opportunity you couldn’t deny.
“I suppose, but I’m still getting used to the area.” You had been brought up in a remote land leagues away from these towns with odd names. Even the unfamiliarity of not knowing these places brought you to rethink the reasons during your isolated childhood.
Your conversations with Allard had been very pleasant, talking simply about each other’s lives whilst on route out of the town you had been staying in for a while.
Your plans had been to stay for a few days, diving in and out of jobs but you believed you wouldn’t have to worry for a while. You were still young, trying to find something you could potentially be good at, and eventually settle in a place you could call home.
Home is a place that has far too little memories. You thought. It’s somewhere where I cannot picture a place without nostalgia nor comfort. The idea of home is a fragmented memory that dances on my mind; lost for eons.
You were hoping to settle before the beginning of Spring: a time for change and rebirth, a chance to find yourself.
You rode beside your new companion on your own horse Beck, a great black and white shire with a great mane of hair that was as black as twilight. You rode alongside Allard for a few miles, whilst he rode with supplies on the back of his cart, telling of tales of his younger years and what he had hopes for in the future.
If there had been someone who was looking forward to the future, it certainly wasn’t you.
He was indeed a interesting person, someone you hadn’t come to meet for a while.
“Yes, it’s a simple life, the goats-you’ll like them, all seven of them named after the Gods that live within these forests- they need cleaning out the most, but sometimes I get my son to help me on the busiest of days.”
You turned to him, almost in a way that you could’ve assume he would at some point in his life have children, but he hadn’t mentioned having a wife and seemed to be living alone. “Your son?” You questioned, not in a way to nag for more answers.
He seemed to catch on, an ecstatic belly laugh came from him as he clicked his own horse to continue. “Oh yes, why, I forget that I say things and sometimes I don’t. Rònan he’s called, he’ll be around your age too. Kind and sweet he is, he helps with the hard labour I cannot do anymore.”
You smiled, it would be good to meet someone who is more your age, nothing against Allard. “I’m sure you’ll get on well with him, he tends to stay within a place he knows best, and he sometimes enjoys the dependence and most days being away from his old man.”
“He seems like a great guy.” You added, intrigued to say the least.
“Oh yes, he is a gentle soul too. He was abandoned when he was a youngling, and I took him in, acting like a father to him when he didn’t have one himself of his own blood.” Allard looked onward, contemplating. For a moment, you couldn’t tell if the man was going to begin to tear up.
“But I love him how any father would love their son and children, wishing them the world and the happiness followed. It can be hard to find these days.”
You nodded in agreement: it was harder nowadays to find genuine happiness, but hearing about a story of a man and his son was something you had wished you had to experience with your own family.
Allard seemed caught up in his own thoughts and stories to not notice that the two of you were coming up to his little lodge: a small and homely place with a vast amount of hearth and beyond it all, a Black Sea of water behind, looking onward a valley of other towns.
The mill was close by, only a small walk to it, spinning its old cobs as it steadily spun. The entire place was stunning, and it would look even better once the arrival of spring had come to grace the land and bring harvest.
“Ah, we’re hear.” Allard sighed, as if the sight of his own lovely home was always such a lovely thing to see everyday, and you could agree why.
It was truly somewhere you wish you could call home too, but it would be a long while before you could settle and find a place to stay.
You settled your horse to feed and rest in the stable, helping the man with the supplies and barrels and boxes, carrying them into his house whilst passing the glistening water and mill.
Inside his home was oddly large but welcoming: with a large wide entrance to come into and a warm fireplace already burning with wood that seemed to be tended to and freshly re-lit.
Allard could sense it too himself, but didn’t seem to pay much attention to think that something was off. “He’ll be home, I believe, by now I assume.”
Your mind went to believe he was talking about his adopted son Rònan, as you heaved the boxes onto the table beside as you looked around. You could finally get the senses back into your fingertips from heaving those heavy supplies.
“Rònan, you home?” Allard called from the open window, peering out. From the distant tumbling and gliding ripples from the river outside, you could hear a distant sound of hooves coming in close, almost as if cantering to get into the house.
“Thought I could hear you come in.” Came a soft warm voice that bounced along as the person and their words glided closer to the door.
You had turned around in time to see the person come in, a smile coming to your face as you went to greet them.
Your smiled dropped slightly at the sight of the tall male that had come through the door, and now you understood why the doors were wide enough to bring in something larger than a human.
Rònan was svelte and tall, with normal outdoor clothes on top-half, but your eyes trailed to the four slender hooved feet and long orange-brown body of a deer or adolescent buck. You noticed that the ceiling was high enough for him to stand without having to bend; tall and curved dark fawn antlers coming out from his head giving him such an elegant appearance.
The cervitaur must’ve been the literal embodiment of autumn itself, for you had never seen hair as bright as his. His hair was long and tumbling past his shoulders, the same colour to an orange sunset, a red that burnt brighter than a winter’s fire. His skin was pale and freckled, dancing along his skin like dots of fiery stars, burning in beauty over his canvas of fair skin.
He had beautiful eyes too, the colour of growth and of every hue of green of a forest that could hide an ocean of light and spring. Eyes that could drown a maiden if he knew he had that ability to. You stared in awe, wondering if he knew truly how beautiful he was upon sight. You had to stop yourself from staring too much, you realised you had caught yourself before things became uncomfortable.
Rònan’s eyes landed on you, his green eyes flitting nervously to you standing there, a crooked but shy smile gracing his face. Even his smile was a lovely sight to look upon. “Oh,” his words came from his mouth as he watched over you, some nerves bubbling over. He seemed more than surprised at the suddenly expected guest in his home.
“It’s nice to meet you,” you begun, telling him your name and taking the initiative to speak, “your father has spoken a lot of you, it’s nice to meet you finally in person.”
Rònan gave Allard a sideways glance, in that moment so quick to read that you could think was him trying to portray ‘what in the name of the seven did you say of me?’ on his face before he looked back to you.
He smiled, hesitating over the right words to say, a light blush dazzling his freckled cheeks and nose. “It’s n-nice to meet you too.” He repeated your name, softly spoken and so sweet that you felt a th-thump in your chest that made your heart flutter.
“Rònan, would you help me by showing our new guest to their room?” Allard’s voice came through between you two, as the cervitaur looked to his father, nodding with a soft smile. “Of course, would you like t-to follow me?”
You followed him back outside, away from the pens of the other animals as he led you towards the back of the small cottage. “Your room is near to ours. They’re no stairs as m-my father finds it troublesome to climb them.”
“I see...” you smiled even when when you walked beside him, Rònan walked at a slower pace for you to catch up with him. You were grateful for that, not having to strain your muscles any further from an already long day.
“This is yours...” he dropped your things gently to the floor as you stepped in. Most of the rooms seemed the same: a large bed with a canopy on top, a small desk and a large open view. “All guests get the best room, but w-we haven’t had many in a long time.” He stammered, but he still remained calm when he spoke to you.
Your looked out your room, and he was very correct: a view of the bay of Alajour greeted you, with the neighbouring towns surrounding, the water glowing even from the winter sun low in the sky.
“Wow, you were correct. This is lovely.” You turned to Rònan, smiling, and the cervitaur smiled back, his green eyes quickly looked away from you, nibbling on the inside of his cheek.
“I’m glad... um, we’re gonna be making supper soon, if you’re hungry?” He trailed off on his question; running a hand through his fiery locks to get them out of his face. On cue, your stomach grumbled, loudly for the both of you to hear.
A quiet chuckle came from your new friend, his forest green eyes widening quickly in realisation that he was caught been stared at, only for a good reason on your behalf. “Um, s-sorry! I’ll... leave you to it!”
You barely had time to say your thanks before he took off in an awkward cute mess out your lodge, a warm feeling both settling in your chest and residing on your cheeks.
When supper was ready, you walked over to be met with the Cervitaur outside waiting for you, brining you in for the food. You learnt that Rònan was a vegetarian, but it did not not matter to you. Your meal included a range of crumbled cheeses and dried fruits, onions and mushrooms stewed in a sweet wine sauce, with autumn mulled wine to keep you warm by the fire burning. Nonetheless, it was perhaps one of the best meals you had had in a long time.
Allard spoke to you about what your day would consist of for the next day, telling you it would be best to get some rest early for a long day ahead.
You said your goodnights to the father and son duo, a longing look came from Rònan as he watched you leave; making you pretend to not of seen it or overthink the reasoning.
You slept well for the first night, and in the morning, you worked the hardest in your life, making sure you made the most your days working under the guidance of Allard.
You came to enjoy most of the tasks given to you; especially when it came to feeding the goats in the early morning before you broke your fast with the others. The seven goats all had their own individual personalities, all with a mischievous attitude and mind similar to a two-year-old. You found that it was like looking after your own children.
You were thankful that you got your own chance that first day to get some help from Rònan; who showed you the ropes to everything. It was also nice to get to know to him more.
Rònan had been working with you for the majority of the day: and you were for once, getting a short lunch break during the middle of the day. You and Rònan were sat in the stables, eating small snacks whilst the Cervitaur fed you and him and the horses some apples.
“So let me get this straight...” Rònan begun, cutting another slice off the juicy red apple he had grabbed from the large basket settled between you. You watched for a moment as he feed that same slice to your horse Beck, “you’ve never travelled anywhere east of Alajour?”
You smiled through your teeth, looking onward as you selected a large apple to feed to the other horse that was trying so badly to get to the basket. “Unfortunately so. I’ve been stuck in a place that I don’t barely remember, especially during my childhood.”
“How so?” Rònan questioned cautiously, grabbing a fresh green apple as bright as his eyes, taking a bite or it as you watched the juice dribble down from his mouth slightly down his chin, but he was quick to wipe at it when you noticed. For a reason, you dared thinking what it would’ve been like to swipe at it and lick it clean off your finger...
You blinked, clearing your mind of such a lewd and odd thought. “My childhood.... wasn’t the best. I grew up where laughter was rare, and it was more common to find arguments than actual family bonding.” You shrugged it off like a swarming wasp around your head.
Rònan swallowed the bite slowly, and even you heard it was loud and audible. “Ah crap.... I’m e-er, I’m so sorry. Jheeze, me and my big mouth asking too many questions.” He looked away in shame.
That small thoughtful moment made you smile visibly, even when he couldn’t see it. “Hey, you were curious, it’s really nothing.” You admitted, consoling him to not feel ashamed about asking you such a topic.
Rònan turned his head back your way, and... did his eyes always look so green and vibrant? Even when you were this up close to him? A world of paradise and a place to find yourself when you think you’re lost. Anyone could drown within the sea of green. You couldn’t help but notice how even the smallest of things he did, he was tentative and careful, even when he spoke.
“What about you? If you don’t mind me asking?” You asked, naturally not wanting to sound too pushy. Rònan smiled, albeit he might’ve hidden well that he could’ve been uncomfortable with your question, he answered you with as much detail as possible.
“It was certainly... different - so to say. I don’t think I could ever have a childhood outside of the one that Allard gave me.”
“Oh?” You chewed slowly on a moment, a pregnant pause fell in the air.
Rònan chewed on his bottom lip momentarily. “I was orphaned when I was just a kid.”
Your heart sank at his words, and you felt the strong urge to hug him, and so you did, awkwardly sinking into the hay on your knees, you were lucky to not have to stretch so far, having been sat next to each other. You wrapped your arms around his neck, prepared to be pushed away, but met with open warm arms hugging you back.
“You’re loved Rònan, and I’ve certainly seen it through Allard. He loves you how any father would love their son. And you’ll find love through another.” You could only wish you had had that experience.
Rònan looked away, a blush formed bright on his cheeks, making his face look to be glowing like a tomato. You found it almost comical that his cheeks looked to match the same shade as his fiery hair.
He looked on and off your way, stammering. “We’ll see. Anyway, let’s continue on with working, before Allard thinks we’re slacking.”
That same evening you had your supper, telling of tales that mainly were told by Allard and the embarrassing stories of Rònan, whilst his son sat trying his best to stop more to be said. By the end of the night, Rònan’s cheeks were as red as berries.
The more following days you spent at Allard's lodge, the more you begged yourself to stay; to wait it out for longer than you had originally wanted to stay for. You longed for a home, and you saw it here with your own eyes. It was a place you truly felt more welcomed.
“Thought I could find you here.” Your eyes looked onwards towards the voice coming over to you, a smiling bright that rose to your face with happiness. Rònan had come back, his quiver and arrows attached to his back, cantering back with a pep in his step.
You wondered perhaps if he was happier to see you, and you certainly always felt more jovial when he was around, bringing the most out of your days whenever he was around, making your day less strenuous
“Hey,” you repeated, trying to calm your beating heart and nervous to still, “not much luck huh.” Your eyes trailed to the little he carried back with him. All he had was few chippings from some wood, light to carry in his arms.
“Yes well... father said that it would be good to use them for tonight. We’re gonna watch the red comet fly over tonight during supper, to the arrival of Eiar.”
How could I forget? The Birth of Eiar was a celebration, as one of the fellow seasons, she was the one to celebrate over for the arrival of Spring. After all this time trying to remember about it, you came to overwork yourself to forget.
“That would be most nice to witness. In all honesty, I forget that this was coming so soon, even when I kept thinking about it for so long.” You blushed, sheepish. “But this will be good to watch, and I look forward to spending it with you.”
Rònan looked more than surprised by your words, his eyes widening to a larger fraction that you witnessed, his mouth opening and shutting as if in utter disbelief as to what you had said.
He recollected himself as best as he could, red freckles looking to be glowing. “I would for be glad to see you there, if y-you’re not doing anything otherwise... wait, no! You said so, erm, well I guess-”
“Rònan,” you clearly and calmly spoke to him to still his nervous ramblings, “I could be grateful to be there with you and the arrival of Spring.”
The cervitaur smiled warmly, bashfully running his hand through his bold hair, a trait you found he did most often when you were around. “I... it would be amazing to share this experience with you there then.”
That was where you found yourself, sat in the cold but blissful evening air, laughing and sharing food and joy around the open fire. The air was cold yet oddly inviting, as if the land was expecting the arrival of Spring to come with great expectancy. You were still wrapped heavily in a woollen blanket distributed out by Allard, whom, sat and stirred at the large pot as you waited to eat.
Your meal was all accordance to what was usually eaten in tradition, a way of good luck to those who ate it. The sister’s stew* you shared out together, with spiced squash and mushrooms on the side with fresh bread and honeyed wine to share with a slice of strawberry and plum pie.
That evening you sat on the long dried grass, waiting beside Rònan beside, a sleepy expression on his lovely face, as you both waited for the arrival of the comet as the flames from the fire sat in front of you.
You turned to him, glancing at his expression as he stared up at the stars, a longing expression visible in his eyes. When he unexpectedly turned to you, those same green eyes twinkled and he smiled through his eyes too, a loving smile you wished to immortalise forever in your memory.
“What’s on your mind Rònan?” you whispered, not as though you needed to, a comfortable silence had fallen when you two hadn’t been speaking, and Allard was somewhere sorting things inside, not wanting the chill to get to his bones.
“A lot really, but I’m not sure where to begin.” He begun, turning to look downcast at the ground, thinking. “Where do you think you can?” You shuffled closer to him, begging for some warmth as your shoulders grazed.
“Seasons come and go, and time does not stop for any of us. I worry for the future, for the future of those around me and the place I know so well.” For maybe the first time, you were witnessing him speak without any stammers, speaking so freely and calmly.
“I wish I could go wherever I wanted with no worries, but my mind falls to what would happen to Allard. We have both been looking after to one another since I was a youngling. He looked after me... teaching me morals and lessons, and I helped when he got older and he struggled more and more.” He hugged himself tightly. “I fear for most things, especially of the unknown.”
You smiled woefully to him, even when he wasn’t looking your way. For a moment you thought he might’ve started to cry, the flames danced on his irises, like dances in front of him. “You know, I worry the same.”
He looked back to you sharply, as if he had just received a slap to the face. “Y-You do?”
“Of course... sometimes, I worry about where to go... when I’ve never been anywhere outside of my own home. I worry for what lies ahead of the path, but most of all...” you breathed out suddenly, as if electrocuted, “I worry I will never find home.”
Shuffling came to your left and a warm feeling wrapped itself around your shoulder, a warm hand that belonged to the Cervitaur as he wrapped both his own blanket and arm around your shoulder, pulling you oh-so close to his chest.
“You know you’re always welcomed here, no matter what. Allard and I will always be there for you. We will never turn your away.”
His words almost made you tearful, a gust of wind blew past your face and caught the ends of your hair to blow backwards, and for a second, you thought the air felt warmer? Maybe it had been in your imagination, or the fire had blown heat into your face.
“You and Allard already feel like family to me, you welcomed me in with open arms; a stranger you didn’t know into your own home. And for that, I am forever grateful.”
“You’re more than just family... t-to me at least.” Timidly confessed by Rònan. It caught you more than off guard. “R-Really?” You believed your cheeks must’ve matched his hair in how much you were blushing.
Rònan slid closer to if possible, the warmth radiating near your face by how close he was to you. The fire lit up half of his handsome face, and his forest green eyes flowed in contrast, as if his eyes were burning with a green-orange fire within.
“I-I like you a lot.” He murmured your name softly, his eyes filled with infatuation. “And I would be honest to say that I’d like to see you stay, but I know n-nothing in life can stop you from staying here.”
You grinned, scooting close and enveloping your fingers together, your fingers warming up. “Nothing in this world can stop me from leaving.” You dreamily said, Rònan copying your own expressions. “I like you too Rònan.”
The cervitaur smiled bashfully, his eyes trailed downwards towards the bottom of your face. You came to realise that he was looking down at your lips. He caught you watching, green eyes flitting up to me your eyes, as if asking if he could continue.
You leaned intentionally closer into him, your noses bumping as giggles came to both of your lips, bubbling over. Waiting for him to make the first move, Rònan’s attention flew over and above your head, a small gasp escaped from his mouth.
“L-Look!”
He pointed and you turned your head, your eyes catching onto what was swimming across the twilight sky. The red comet of Eiar, a huge ball of red cloud and white-red smoke fluttered behind it as it flew across the sky slowly; in all of its glory for everyone to see.
“They say that Eiar had a lover whom fell upon the sea and met their demise in a war. They say that it is good luck to wish upon her comet, and no matter what you wish for, it will always come true.” Rònan’s fingers grazed just underneath your chin, making you turn back to him.
His eyes were brimming with both mirth and tenderness, something that made you melt in his arms. “Make a wish.”
You giggled softly. “I already have.”
Rònan smiled, caressing your face, admiring your face and smile, “I did too, and it came true for me.” before taking your lips to his in a timid yet sweet kiss.
You had finally gotten your wish, and the dream you had wished for had been rewarded; just before the beginning of Spring.
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Thank you and I hope you enjoyed this! I’ve been away on vacation when I wrote this, and it took a while when I didn’t have much WiFi, but I managed to write this when I had free time to spare. I’ll be back to my usual schedule.
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*Sisters stew. In tradition, it is said that all members of the party who share the stew must eat it together. The stew is to commemorate the farewell of the two sisters and the meal they shared together, Eiar and her oldest sister Kheima, shared a final meal before Kheima’s journey to rest in sleep. Eating this soup is to symbolise good virtues and trust between family and friends, with a mixture of plants and foods that can be grown during the spring and during the winter.
#cervitaur#cervitaur boyfriend#cervitaur x reader#Cervitaur male oc#cervitaur male#monster lover#Monster#monster writing#male monster#exophilia#Rònan the Cervitaur#Shy monster
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My first time drawing preg art! Keep in mind I'm new to drawing preg... or cervitaurs... I'm new to drawing a lot of things
This sweet boy's name is Hawthorn. He was originally gonna be married off to the leader of another whitetail herd, but he wound up falling for the mysterious felitaur wandering through his herd's territory. Now he may or may not have a baby or two in there... oops.
Might draw the dad at some point, he hasn't left the picture lol
#my first attempt at preg art and it's a creature with complicated anatomy#what a joy#mpreg#monster preg#cervitaur preg#preg oc#male pregnancy#pregnancy#i wanna pet his soft deer belly
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hey idk if you’re open for requests but would it be okay if I get an aesthetic for like idk how to describe him but he’s a dude and he has a deer head?? Very clawlike hands and cloven feet too, so just like “deer man” I guess??? Lol I’m sorry if this isn’t descriptive enough! His name is quintus and his deer breed is a mule deer if you need that too, good luck and I’m so sorry this is long!
Mule Capreotaur Stag; Quintus
I hope you like any creative liberties I decided to run with!! Thank you so much for requesting, I look forward to getting more
#monster#terato#terato love#monster aesthetic#male monster#exophilia#monster boy#quintus#oc#Capreotaur#capreotaur stag#stag#aesthetic#cervitaur#cervidae#cervitaur boyfriend
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I’m gonna give my big, sweet, shy, stammering centaur, Iskandar, a male love interest in a separate story from the reader x orc one soon... It’s gonna be with a cervitaur who works on the next farm over... <3
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im looking at old ocs and like. all of my male ocs (that i can think of atm) are trans and probably gay and deer-like in some way (one is a cervitaur, one’s a faun type thing but w/ deer features instead of goat features, one is just an anthro deer, etc) and idk anything about their personalities yet but Projecting Much
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Male werewolf x female reader (nsfw)
Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.
This is a patreon tier reward, and I hope you enjoy my take on their big, dad-bodded werewolf OC, Lowe. It's been up on Patreon on early release and is now up on Tumblr for you to enjoy.
Content: playful banter, fluff, the briefest flicker of angst, some dominant tendencies in Lowe (it's not D/s though, for anyone who's not into that), and a reader who gives as good as she gets. Wordcount: 2792
___
As you yanked the door to the campus cafe open with about twice as much force as it needed, you caught a glimpse of Lowe working behind the counter. Of course, there was a massive queue at this time of day; at the midpoint of the afternoon when people were thinking about either finishing up early or knuckling down for a caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.
Engrossed as he’d looked in his work before, he glanced up as if he’d sensed your presence, his warm eyes flicked briefly in your direction as the door opened, and he offered you a quick, fond, twitch of the lips before turning back to the masterpiece of latte art in his hands. Even at that distance, you felt your body relaxing a little more around him. In the time since he’d made some playfully snarky comment about your Pokémon shirt a few months ago - which had, in fact, led to a joint outing on campus playing Pokémon Go together - you and he had fallen into an easy friendship.
You tried not to snarl softly to yourself as the woman at the front of the queue, old enough to be a post-grad perhaps, leaned on the counter and flirted openly with him, but at the end of the day, what claim did you have to him anyway? Lowe was your friend, and as much as you’d like to think you might be the tall, long-haired guy’s type (he was certainly yours, with that ‘powerful-yet-soft-around-the-edges’ dad bod he had going on, and that self-assured confidence that tipped just pleasantly shy of being arrogance), you couldn’t really be sure. After all, you’d seen him getting pretty close with a guy friend of his, so for all you knew, he wasn’t even interested in women, but you’d never really discussed that. The most personal things had got so far was Bloodborne bosses and beloved DnD characters, which was also fine.
The queue slowly dwindled in front of you, and when you stepped up to the counter, Lowe turned from the machine on the far counter and plonked a large cup down before your lips had even opened to begin your order. His grin was positively wolfish, all teeth and glinting eyes.
You pouted and snapped, “And what if I wanted a chai latte with soy milk today?”
He raised one thick eyebrow as he popped the takeaway lid onto the cup with a distractingly big hand, and said flatly, “You hate soy milk. Drink up, grumpy-guts. You’ll feel better…”
You huffed, took the cup off the counter, slapped the cash down just hard enough to make him chuckle and twitch another smile - damn the bastard looked pleased with himself and double-damn, if he didn’t look extra-specially good wearing that expression - and he announced to his colleague that he was going on break.
He joined you outside, tugging out one of the heavy, metal chairs for you without a word before taking a seat on the other side of the table.
Lowe closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little to feel the chilly late-spring breeze on his face. He looked good as he relaxed like that, with his long, thick, nut-brown hair tied back off his face with a few fluffy bits escaping at the front, and his big arms folded across his chest and resting on the slight paunch he had at the waist. Something about the thick, almost russet-brown scruff on his jaw made you want to touch it. Instead, you sipped your drink and sighed.
“Good?” he asked without moving or opening his eyes.
“You know it is, you cocky little shit,” you laughed. Banter with him was always so easy, and you gave as good as you got. “Thanks, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a complete brat…”
He snorted and cracked an eye to look at you. The sun caught in his golden-brown iris and glinted softly like polished amber, and it honestly stole your breath for a moment. “How’s the course going?” he asked instead of teasing you any more. “You were pretty stressed about that assignment last time we talked.”
You rolled your eyes and puffed the air out of your chest, swiftly following it with some inarticulate grunt of despair. “It would be going a lot better if my roommate wasn’t also being such an inconsiderate asshole,” you snarled. “Seriously, I don’t think I can take the smell of weed or the late nights any more.”
He frowned. “Can’t you talk to someone about it?”
“Have done. Not sure I’ll have a roommate for much longer though… Missing classes and being constantly stoned must equal tanking grades, right?”
Lowe nodded but didn’t say anything for a while, watching as a gnoll and her girlfriend strolled past, hand in hand. The gnoll nuzzled her nose against the human’s ear and elicited a squawk that made her giggle in return. Eventually he said, “You free this weekend?”
Cocking your head to one side, you shrugged. “Hand-in is on Friday afternoon, so… yeah? I mean, I had just planned to sleep all day… why?”
He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive and chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “I was going to head up into the woods for the weekend. Camping. Wondered if you wanted to come too?”
“Camping?”
“Yeah…” he said, looking like he was regretting mentioning it now. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean… you’ve earned your rest, and camping under the stars isn’t for everyone. Don’t feel like you have -”
“Shut up for a second, will you?” you laughed, and he drew up short and blinked, staring at you before laughing fondly. “I’ve actually never been camping. I’d love to go, as long as you don’t make me go for a ten mile hike as well…”
“Would I treat you like that?” he crooned and you rolled your eyes again and muttered something which you didn’t think he’d catch. Somehow, however, he did, and he barked a loud laugh, startling a cervitaur walking past with his grocery shopping in each hand. As Lowe turned to look at the cervitaur he’d surprised, you watched his eyes flare gold, almost unnaturally so. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight at this angle. When he looked back at you, you missed what he said, staring at his eyes, which were now back to their normal, warm brown.
He murmured your name, sounding a little concerned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a brat… not really…”
“Shut up,” you retorted, your tone carrying no venom. “And you know full well know I can be.”
That Thursday afternoon, your roommate moved out, finally expelled for drug use and selling to other students, and you fumigated the room as best you could, relieved at last. The second after you’d finished deep-cleaning everything, you texted Lowe and said, ‘So… I’m down a roommate now.’
‘You need me to help hide the body?’ he sent back immediately and you burst out laughing.
‘I love you, but no. It was expulsion rather than murder. I was kind of hoping you might want to move in instead?’ you sent, your heart in your mouth. He’d mentioned he was looking for a place closer to campus, and this could be perfect for him. If he was willing to have you as his roommate, of course.
‘Definitely interested. Can I think about it and let you know this weekend?’
That wasn’t a complete rebuttal, you figured. ‘Of course.’
‘Cheers. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.’
True to his word, Lowe didn’t take you on a ten mile route march. He drove you up to the start of a wide, easy looking trail that was apparently only three miles up to the campsite, along a winding, inviting, grassy path. Despite looking maybe a little towards the less fit end of the scale, Lowe was four strides ahead of you in a matter of seconds. Realising this, he slowed, and you nudged him with your elbow.
“Thanks,” you said and he gave you one of his soft, secret smiles that you didn’t see very often.
He wasn’t particularly talkative as you made your way up the path, but the silence between you was easy, relaxing even.
“You’re such a cliche, you know that?” you laughed a little while later as you paused on a rock for a drink and to adjust the laces of your shoe.
Lowe scowled. “How?”
You stared pointedly at the penknife in his hand and the stick he’d picked up and had idly begun to whittle into a howling wolf in his big, strong hands, almost as if he’d not even realised he was doing it. Again, he surprised you by just shrugging a shoulder and turning back to it while you enjoyed the scene. He seemed a bit distracted somehow. When you moved on, he stashed it in his pocket.
Lowe carried literally everything, stowing your water bottle for the way up in the side pocket of his backpack, and even a two-person tent, food supplies for that evening and breakfast, and more water than you probably drank over the course of three days, and yet he still managed to arrive at the campsite as if he’d just strolled the length of one city block.
He impressed you again by lighting a fire and cooking a veritable feast for you both on a little makeshift grill, and he looked more than pleased with himself when you complimented him. “Don’t let it go to your big fat head,” you snickered and he growled playfully at you.
Quite literally growled.
The moment he’d done it, he went still, eyes wide, and even looked a little sick. “Shit,” he hissed.
“What?”
“I…” then his huge shoulders slumped despondently and he let out a long breath. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I mean, I’ve been meaning to tell you for… well, since we kind of became friends, really. But it never seemed… convenient…”
“Convenient to tell me what?”
He shuffled a bit and poked at the embers of the fire. Your stomach felt uneasy, and it had nothing to do with the inordinate amount of amazing food you’d just finished. “I…” he began, and then whispered, “Fuck it.” He looked you in the eye and said, “I’m not human. I’m a werewolf.”
You blinked. It didn’t totally surprise you, if you were honest. “Well, that… certainly makes one or two things add up…”
“You’re not mad?”
“Why would I be mad?”
He turned his golden eyes away from you and poked a bit more at the smoldering, grey wood, making it crumble to fragile ashes. He did look a bit easier now though. “I figured… maybe you wouldn’t… that if you knew that I’m not human, you might not want me as your roommate anymore… It was stupid though, I know.”
“Lowe,” you said, more gently this time, reaching for his bare forearm where he’d cuffed his tartan sleeve up to his elbow. His skin was warm and his muscles tensed, hard as the earth beneath you as he waited for whatever you were going to say next. “You’ve become probably my best friend… There’s no one I’d rather be roommates with than you. Besides, who else is going to tolerate your Soulsborne marathons and hipster lumberjack wardrobe?”
A long, low growl emanated from him but it dissolved into laughter when he saw your expression and he shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so chicken about you knowing…”
“I can’t believe you looked like you pissed yourself a minute ago!”
His eyes flashed openly gold now and he huffed, “I did not…”
“You totally did. Anyway, I’m glad you told me. But you know that means I’m going to want to know all the details.”
“I think I’ll save that for another day,” he said as he reached for the s’mores beside him.
‘Another’ day turned out to be a week after you’d helped him move all his boxes into your room. He was lying on his back on his bed, his arms folded up behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, foot dangling off the end of the mattress. You glanced across the room at him from where you had your laptop on your knees and your headphones on, working on the last tweaks of the next assignment due. He looked tense, even though he wasn’t really doing anything in particular.
Removing your headphones, you murmured, “Lowe? Everything alright?”
“Mmm,” he half growled. A moment later he heaved out a huge sigh and said, “No. Full moon’s tomorrow night. I always get kind of… cranky around now.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
Whatever you’d thought he’d say, you hadn’t expected the long, low moan that escaped him. It was not an innocent noise. Breathing through his mouth in soft, quiet pants, he didn’t look at you, but you sensed that his eyes were glowing.
“Lowe?”
“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to take whatever this is between us somewhere else…”
You bit your lip. “You mean…?”
“It would probably take the edge off if we slept together, yes,” he said bluntly. “But if you don’t want that, then I’m hardly going to push…”
“I like it when you’re pushy,” you countered, setting your laptop aside and staring him in the eye.
His pupils blew wide and he raised his nose. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh… fuck, you’re beautiful.”
With a smile, you crossed the room to him as he sat up, watching your every move with unwavering, lupine focus. “Let me help you out, big guy,” you crooned playfully and he twitched his lip in a possessive snarl, eyes golden and locked on the curve of your neck.
“Last chance,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting crossing this line with me.”
“You’ve got super-human senses, Lowe,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. His gaze darted instantly to the movement, transfixed by the glimpse of skin beneath your top. “You must know how I feel about you by now…”
“Yes, but lusting after someone and doing something about it is different when they’re your friend… I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting pressure on you…”
In answer, you reached out and trailed your fingertips up his neck, scratching him a little bit and making him growl again, and as you finished with a single finger drawing a line up his throat and under his chin, he shivered, as if barely holding himself back. “Why don’t you put just the right amount pressure on me… here?” you said, licking your lips as you climbed into his lap, straddling his thick thighs and running your palms over the softness of his stomach.
His jaw was soft, mouth open as he panted openly, and beneath you as you ground your hips to emphasise your question, you felt his hard cock.
A heartbeat later, he’d clamped his hands under your thighs and stood up. Lowe dropped you onto the bed with the perfect mix of recklessness and carefulness and lunged for you. He peppered and mouthed kisses down your neck, tugging at your skin with his canines, biting at your earlobe, his short beard burning and scratching your skin deliciously, and all the while he ground his cock against your thigh through his jeans.
It clearly wasn’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t long before you were both naked on his bed, and he had his mouth on you, his hands spreading your legs wide as he used the strength in his arms that his softer body belied. “Don’t come yet,” he rasped between strokes of his tongue. “Not til I say…”
“Oh,” you gasped, fighting the rising wave of heat that swept up your body, tingling under your skin, at that command. You tried, you really did, but in a mere few strokes of his tongue, you came with a cry against the heat of his mouth, bucking while he held you down and pulled you against his mouth to press his tongue tight against your throbbing clit.
When he pulled back, looking extremely smug about himself and his talents, you saw that his canines had lengthened and his features had become a little less… human.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, clearly still enjoying the taste of you on his lips.
“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you pouted, and he snarled.
“Such a brat,” he laughed, but he didn’t waste any time either.
—
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