#CorruptedLynx

[corruptedlynx]

Naga x Reader

"First Meets"

Asante Thorne [Naga Male - Blue Beauty Rat Snake]

Word Count: 6,118 SFW

Summary: You had been looking forward to this night all week, even with your nerves sitting wild in your stomach since the decision had been made – that you would finally get to meet “Vesper,” a guy you had befriended over the last year from a site that you been frequenting. Despite your excitement initially, your tune is changed at first when a coworker of yours finds you and becomes far too pushy, only for your knight in shining scales slithers in to save you. Thankfully Asante’s presence is a quick turn-around for your mood and you enjoy your night with him. 

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Vesper, the screen name you had known him by for almost a year and a half now, had quickly become a staple in your life upon getting to know one another, having met over a digital tournament where he had consistently beat you by only a hair. Between both you and your opponent's competitive streak and cynical humor the chat had become a crackling trash fire in all the best ways. Fast enough it had led to a friend request, then to more 1-on-1 gaming sessions including voice calls instead of the prior text chats; leading itself to even more intense banter. 

Eventually the friendship jumped from the game to other messaging apps and blogging sites, continuing on a regular basis. Messages and phone calls going until one or both phone batteries finally died, and you were forced to stop, or your eyes betrayed you and fell shut. 

Either way, it became increasingly clear to all of your friends that you had certainly become enamored with “Vesper,” whose real name you still did not know – he had taken to joking that he would finally tell you the day that you two met in person. Something neither of you had spoken about, assuming the other lived too far away. After all, the chances you lived close enough to just visit one another were likely infinitesimal, or it felt as much, and neither of you seemed eager to get your hopes up. 

However, this did not stop the pair of you from talking most nights, with him even learning your name after a particular phone call had led to your slipping up in a half-awake state. You had forgotten about telling him until the next night when he called you by your name in another game and your heart seemed to stop for a moment. He had won that round, and you really could not bring yourself to be annoyed about it. 

You knew that you had feelings for Vesper, but you pushed them aside. Despite the teasing and borderline flirting that often transpired between the pair of you, you had never given any indications about your actual feelings. Too needy for physical affection and too scared that being honest could change your dynamic. There was just no need, at least as far as you disputed with your friends, who didn’t seem to believe your half-hearted defense. You had never even seen a picture of him, you had continued to argue, or had a video call – despite his offers, since you had always changed the subject, too nervous about actually seeing him. One of your best friends had only rolled their eyes and called you a coward before shoving you jokingly and acting as though they were counting down the days until something finally happened. 

You never say anything about this ongoing war with your friends to Vesper, but you tell him plenty else, just as he entrusts you with information about his life. Still, neither of you had given anything away that could lead to naming where one another lived, and were not pushing the other to divulge, content still to just be speaking together. 

And speak you were that night, listening to the coos of apology and snarky responses when you listed off something particularly egregious that had gone on that day or the way in which your managers had handled the situation. 

You worked in retail, and while usually your snappish comments or humorous recounting was the byproduct of a noteworthy customer and their absolute meltdown in the store, not this time. This was the effect that one of your coworkers tended to have on you when you were unable to avoid him. He had a nasty habit of overstepping boundaries and getting far too touchy in general. And despite the different ways that you had tried to get him to back off, you had been the one to be reprimanded while they had written his behaviors off as being harmless fun or accidents time and again. It was a side effect of being the owner's cousin, you had reasoned over the phone as you flung a pillow back against your headboard in agitation. 

“What did the manager say again when you told him?” 

“He just said that it was an accident and I needed to let it go!” you shouted, voice pitching, before face planting into your pillow next to you while your phone remained atop the nightstand on speaker. You didn’t need to lift your head to hear the snarl of anger from Vesper. 

“Flat out groping you for the third time this week alone, and everything else he does, doesn’t add up to an accident!” 

Vesper had a protective streak over all his friends, and that certainly included you, something you could appreciate. You could hear the drumming of his fingers against his desk – a regular habit of his when he got worked up - and the sound of almost a growl on the other end of the phone before you finally lifted your head back up. “If it’s anything, I at least had a pick me up on my way home.” 

Vesper had to take a moment to compose himself and you could hear the shift before he finally spoke again, tone changed to try and pry a laugh out of you. “My wonderful self?” he drawled out. 

You could only chuckle, easily imagining him stretched out with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and his feet kicked up. Not that you could really know, but you felt you had a well enough idea of him to imagine how he acted. “Not this time.” Your next words were cut off by the over-dramatized gasp from Vesper, leaving you to laugh, at least a little. “On my way home there’s this little pet shop, and they have these little cats along the bottom of the window like a parade – but somebody went in and drew little wizard outfits on every. Single. One.” you chimed, starting to crack another smile at the thought. “I mean, I feel a little bad because they’re all in marker and that has got to suck to clean up, but for some reason when I saw them, I just started breaking down laughing. They were so cute.” 

Vesper was quiet for a moment before he asked if you had taken a picture of any of the little kitties. 

More than elated at getting to share them you chimed yes, pulling your phone back over to you and sending a slew of photos of the wizard kitty parade – double checking that none of them had your face reflected in the shop window them before sending. You were still talking about your favorite ones as Vesper hummed in response, until you realized he was being suspiciously quiet. “Ves?” 

He seemed to stumble over his words before you heard a sharp intake of breath. “This is gonna sound a little weird, but is this,” he heaved a sigh once more, seeming to rethink his words, “okay, is this Katey’s Kitty Pet Shop? On 4th Ave.” 

You froze for a moment at hearing the name of the shop. Glancing at your phone for a moment you had to think; to answer truthfully or lie out your teeth. Even if Vesper knew you were lying, you trusted him not to pressure you any further about it. But he knew, he really did already know, and it didn’t feel worth it to try and deny as much. Besides, a small part of your brain was sending up fireworks that maybe he had been closer this last year and a half than you had ever let yourself think. 

Before you could finalize your thoughts, you were brought back by the voice on your phone, with Vesper now trying to change the subject, figuring you were uncomfortable with him mentioning it. 

“I’m sure it’s not, sorry” he chuckled, though you heard through the awkwardness of it immediately. 

After one more beat of silence you finally responded, getting your mouth to move the way that you wanted. “Yeah, that's the shop name. There’s that, uh, ya know, coffeeshop two doors down called New Beanland.” 

Vesper lost it laughing at the mention. “Yeah! Oh, so, I’ve never been inside myself, but it seems like they have enough business, so I guess it’s good?” 

“Hey,” you snark at him, “that happens to be my favorite coffeeshop, thank you very much.” 

“You always get a London fog; I feel like that’s a low bar to judge by” 

“It isn’t! Besides, it’s just funnier to get it there because of the name. Also they’re cheaper,” you reason, rolling over onto your back and moving the phone onto the pillow, right next to your head with a small smile on your face. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give that one to you.” He relented, and once again it was easy to imagine him holding his arms up in defeat. 

For a moment everything fell silent before you hazarded asked another question. “So, I guess you go by the pet shop regularly?” 

“My sister loves that place, and she drags me out there as many times as she can.” he groans. 

You know it’s half-hearted, having heard him doting over his young sister plenty of times in the background of other calls or just talking about her accomplishments in general. 

A few more back and fourths were discussed about the pet shop and the very sad looking cat in the window – which Vesper had been forced to deny his sister adopting more than once due to their own cats. But from there the conversation moved on just as naturally as anything else until finally you were bent over on your side in the fetal position, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the intense waves laughter that wracked your body. It took another minute or two before you finally managed to calm down, eyes still closed as a few ripples of laughter occasionally broke the slowly calming atmosphere. 

As you had gone quieter you could hear the humming tone of Vesper on the other end, like he was trying to decide on his next words or was just a tad too unsure of himself to voice them. “What’s on your mind, Ves Man?” 

He snorted at the name. “I’m gonna ignore that.” He had to have sat forward because you could hear the creaking of the chair or his bed under his weight as he shifted. “I was wondering something, but I don’t want to push all this too far.” 

Your interest piqued you sat back up, head propped up on your hand. “You know you can’t tease me like that,” you chirped, prodding him into spilling. 

“I was wondering if I’ve ever seen you before while I was at the pet shop or something. Like if we were just right next to each other and I didn’t even know it.” He stopped for a moment more, fingers back to tapping out a made-up tune against the desk. “I was also thinking about us maybe getting to meet up finally. But I get figure that you’d be hesitant about doing that.” 

“Aren’t you nervous about the idea of meeting up?” 

“I mean sure, but it’s been more than a year and a half, and I’d like to put a face with the name – more than just your profile pic,” he mused. 

You bit your bottom lip, chewing at it while you mulled the thought over. You wanted to say that you needed more time to think about it, but you had been considering the same thing, and had for some time. “I’d like to finally meet up.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke, but thankfully Vesper had picked up on it, you knew because you could hear the excited smile in his tone as he next excitedly spoke. And then you realized it, you could no longer make out his words, a lulling slur to everything he said, prompting you to finally check the time. Your surprised laugh was what stopped his rambling on about what you could only assume were meeting ideas. “Vessie, Ves, my main man, my soulmate,” you teased, enjoying the quiet sound of laughing from your phone, “look at the time.” 

“Oh, woah – it is way later than I thought.” 

“And you’re more tired than I think you realize,” you asserted, prompting him towards the idea that it was time for him to sleep. 

He sighed, but did not argue it any further, “yeah, you’re right, you’re right. But you need sleep too. Don’t you have an opening shift tomorrow?” 

You winced at the thought before groaning, knowing that he was right. “Talk about it more tomorrow?” 

There was that same excited smile in his voice as he answered, having obviously leaned even further to the phone. “Absolutely. G’night.” 

“And good morning,” you chimed, finishing a sentence you both often threw at each other due to your different sleep schedules – tending to miss the other when either one of you would wake up. 

That conversation had been a month ago by this point, and you were more than excited that this evening was when you were supposed to meet with Vesper, who you had jokingly reminded was finally going to have to tell you his real name. He had offered to tell you beforehand, but you had instead decided the pair of you could take a selfie when you got there, and you would send that and his real name along to one of your best friends (who was more than excited for you as well, be demanding to know you were, well, not getting murdered). You were a bit more comfortable with the idea of meeting up alone given you knew all the cameras in front of the theaters and how well lit the area was, along with the regular foot traffic. And the two of you had planned to meet right in front of one of the best placed cameras that you knew of. As excited as you were, and as much as you wanted to draw out the mystery, you also wanted to be a bit smart about it, something Vesper still inclined you to be on a regular basis, even with this. 

And while he knew your first name, he still did not know what you looked like; you had at least shown him the majority of the outfit that you had planned to wear for your first meeting, so that he would be able to recognize you in the crowd. 

Now you were practically flying past the other people who dotted the streets, wind rushing past and bright colors flashing in your peripheral from all the lights and decorations that lined the late autumn streets and stores. Some at least had the decency to string out a few pieces of Thanksgiving décor given the holiday had yet to pass, but most stores were already sporting Christmas looks, not that any of that mattered as you hurried on your way. 

Your nerves were going haywire in your stomach, and you almost worried that if you stopped moving you might be sick – though that sounded much worse than it was. So focused on your nerves and on making it to your designated meeting spot, which you could finally see, you failed to hear someone calling your name. It wasn’t until that person had wrapped a tight hand around your arm and ripped you from your course that you were broken from your tunnel vision mission. Dizzy at the rough behavior you finally managed to look up at whomever had stopped you, your stomach dropping the moment that you realized it was your coworker. 

Of all the days that you wanted to see him, which was never, this was the worst of all times. 

The grin on his face was unnerving, and just added to the discomfort you felt as he spoke. “I was trying to get your attention.” 

You froze for a moment before managing to straighten yourself up, but found you were unable to pry your arm away. Instead, you flashed a quick smile, trying to be as nice as you could thanks to the creeping anxiety stopping you from being as rude as you would really prefer to be. “Yeah, I’m meeting someone actually, so I’m kind of distracted.” You tried pulling away once more but your words seemed to have just annoyed your coworker instead, who used his vice grip to pull you even closer to him. 

The stench of his breath was too close, and you could not help the way that your face skewed up in disgust before you noticed he was watching you and it prompted you to shift your expression to something passing as neutral. “Look, I really need to look out for who I’m meeting with, he should be here soon, so I’ve gotta get a move on.” 

“Just trying to get away from me?” he sneered, glancing around to see nobody paying any attention to the pair of you. “Because I don’t see anyone headed over here for you.” 

“He -” 

“I got reamed out because of you,” he cut you off, glowering from the side of his eye, his head still turned away while he looked around. 

A lie, you knew, as he had gotten less than a slap on the wrist. 

Finally, his attention shifted back to you fully. 

“Well then maybe you should have kept your hands off of her,” a deeper voice growled from behind you. You recognized it immediately, but before you could turn around and see him, or even speak, you coworker had gotten a single look at the man before shoving you away like you had burned him, sending you crashing roughly into the chest of who you knew must be Vesper. 

Unable to catch your balance on your own, you worried you might slip past and fall, until you were steadied by a solid arm wrapped securely around your shoulders. This kept you firmly planted with your back against his chest. And as much as you wanted to finally look up at Vesper, the way that your coworker was watching the both of you left you on edge enough that you did not feel safe taking your eyes away from him. 

Finally, your coworker looked up at Vesper and seemed to try and calm himself down, to make himself seem far more respectable than the rat he was. “It was just an accident.” 

Vesper didn’t even dignify your coworker’s blatant lie with a response, only giving a guttural warning noise. 

Your coworker, never the wisest man, opened his mouth to speak; but you could feel the way that Vesper straightened up, only able to imagine the look on his face as you watched your coworker shrink back and shut up. Apparently feeling as though it was no longer worth his time – and knowing this was a fight he was unlikely to win if it came to it – your coworker only waved you both off with a muffled cuss and turned tail, scurrying off the way that he had originally been headed. 

Still, you both waited, not allowing yourself to break your gaze until you finally watched him turn the corner, seeing him shoot you one more dirty look before vanishing. 

“He really is a greasy little bastard, isn’t he?” Vesper finally spoke. 

At the sound of his voice you finally allowed yourself to relax, shoulders dropping and head falling back against his chest where you could finally see his face. Despite the prior confrontation, when you finally made eye contact with Vesper, looking at you with the softest smile you could imagine, it was hard not to return the look immediately.  

You stayed silent for a moment, just taking in the man in front of you, from the crinkle of his eyes to the little patch of blue skin on the outer corner of each, which caught your attention before you were finally pulling away to get a proper look at him. 

It was then that you cracked up laughing until you were doubled over once again in a fit, as he often left you on calls. 

Utterly confused, he could only cock his head at you like a puppy, leaving one arm out for you to keep your balance. 

And finally, finally, you looked up at him with a cheshire grin. “He’s terrified of snakes,” you mused. The man in front of you, who you had automatically assumed to be human without meaning to, followed suit and began laughing as well. The naga man in front of you. 

The two of you shuffled against the wall between fits of laughter, realizing the odd looks that other passersby were shooting you and trying to stop anyone from stepping on or tripping over any part of Vesper’s long tail. Instead, he curled it around the both of you as you brushed aside the looks of others and tried to calm yourselves, only for the laughing to continue when one of you would risk looking at the other and crack all over again. 

After what felt like an eternity, but had only been about 15 minutes, the two of you finally caught your breath and calmed. 

Vesper was the first to speak. “Still need to send that picture to your friend, right?” 

You made a surprised noise, remembering the promise you had made to your friend before this night had begun. With little effort you pulled your phone out before handing it over to Vesper instead, who seemed to smugly understand that you wanted the taller of you two to take the photo. This led to him using his tail to push himself further upward until he could rest his arm on your head. Quickly enough though, he returned to his prior position, letting himself drape over you, before you moved one of his arms back around your shoulders and kept your hands there, smiling up at the camera along with him. 

Happy with the photo you made a ‘gimmie’ motion with your hands and he happily complied, relinquishing the device back to you. Appeasing himself instead by propping his head onto your shoulder and watching as you typed up your message. He said nothing until you started typing Vesper, causing you to jump when his voice rumbled out right next to your ear. 

“Asante.” 

You hummed in confusion, tilting your head to look over at him in question. 

“You’re using my screenname again, but my name is Asante.” 

You made a small noise to acknowledge what he said, looking back to your phone as you flustered from the way he had made himself comfortable, cheek to your shoulder as he looked up at you and spoke, his eyes never seeming to leave your face after he stopped. Quickly you sent off the text and slipped your phone away once more, knowing that you would be getting a barrage of messages as soon as it was seen. And for the moment you preferred to be focused on Asante. 

Initially you had thought it might take you much longer to warm up and be touchy with the man you were meeting, but it felt just as comfortable to be right on top of one another, as though you had both been doing it for far longer. 

Instead, you just closed your eyes and hummed, letting your head knock against his and stifling a laugh at his short whine in retaliation, not that he even bothered trying to move away from you. “You know how I was supposed to come up with something to do after we met up?” 

Asante groaned with a silent laugh as his arms dropped away and he pulled back just far enough to raise a brow at you with an exasperated expression. “You didn’t come up with anything?” 

“I was so nervous I thought I was gonna be sick, or like, chicken out,” you whined, bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. 

Asante only rolled his eyes affectionately before prying one of your hands away and nudging you to look at him. “But” he drawled out teasingly, “you’re here.” 

You smiled back, unable to stop yourself from preening under his fond expression. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Any ideas then?” 

“How about you pick this time?” 

Asante broke into a wide grin, and you noticed once again the way that the corner of his eyes crinkled and seemed to light up the moment he did. “So, there’s gonna be a next time?” 

“I mean, I hope so, after talking for as long as we have.” 

Asante nodded his head, motioning further down the street. “There’s a sandwich shop on the corner, they just have a window to pick it up from – we can order there or online. And there’s a park just a bit further down. We could go and eat at the park and just talk for a bit.” 

You swayed in place for a moment before agreeing, nudging him forward as you stepped over the coils of his tail around you. Asante said nothing as he watched you to ensure your balance, moving his tail out of the way before taking his place beside you, allowing the two of you to make your way in the direction of the sandwich shop. 

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and things turned quickly to banter and playful jabbing. You even managed to find a soft spot on his side that had him coiling away and laughing, mentally noting the fact that he was apparently ticklish for a later. It was something he must have realized judging on the warning look he seems to give you, not that it does anything to deter you and you both know as much. 

He’ll find something of note about you eventually, if he had not already, but you find that you don’t mind as much. 

It takes a bit longer to get to the burger joint due to your fooling around, but you do manage it and get your food before making off to the park, still joking the entire way (and stealing more than a few fries from his tray – though you know he’s freely allowing you to do so). 

The spot that the two of you pick is a bit more secluded, but you can still see a few couples and families wandering about the park in the fading autumn light. The nip in the air is only growing more noticeable in the later hour, but it isn’t too bad for you yet. Carefully you glance up at Asante, who you notice is shivering despite his hoodie. So, you slip off your jacket and hold it out to him silently as he munches away at his fries. 

Asante raises a brow as he looks at you, and you only shove the jacket further to him. 

“You’re shivering,” you comment, shaking the jacket in your hands. 

“I’m wearing a hoodie,” he defends. 

“Does it count when it has a titty window, slut?!” you exclaim, laughing as Asante almost immediately bends over, nearly choking while he tries to stop himself from laughing. 

“It counts,” he growls, though his smile is a dead giveaway as he sneaks an arm around you instead to pull you near him, tail curling around the pair of you securely where you both sit on the cold ground. 

You try wiggling out half-heartedly, but Asante keeps his hold on you, humming as he props his head on your shoulder once more, food abandoned by the both of you for the moment. 

“I think this works pretty good for keeping me warm,” he murmurs, going slack and making himself comfortable. Admittedly enjoying the warmth that is radiating off of you. 

“Asante are you just going to fall asleep on me?” 

“You can have my fries if I do,” he assures, voice steadily lulling out, though he tries to fight the overtake of sleep – just unwilling to pull away from you at the moment. 

You could only shake your head, placing your hand on his shoulder and nudging him back awake, though you could do little to convince him to move. “You can’t fall asleep on me in the middle of a park, especially if it starts getting colder.” Knowing he was a Naga certainly meant you had more concerns about being out so late in the autumn, but he seemed far less worried about any risks. 

Asante groaned, reluctantly pulling away before he really did fall asleep. Though that did not stop him from pouting, which he could see from the corner of his eyes was at the least causing you to smile and roll your own. 

“You big baby,” you chide, handing over your own fries to try and get him to drop the act. 

It works well enough, and he reaches over to accept the offering from you. “Is it my fault if you’re just the perfect heated pillow,” he asked, gesturing towards you in your entirety. 

The comment is enough to fluster you, causing you to look away before shaking your head and dismissing it for a moment; but Asante had caught your reaction and was left grinning, fully ready to abuse this information. 

He would hold off for now, not wanting to push boundaries too far in your first real meeting, but it was fun all the same to know. Still, having heard your expressed concerns he knew he likely had that same soft look on his face that he probably had prior in the evening (and as his sister had said earlier in the day upon seeing, made him look like a love-struck puppy and a bit dumb, which he had happily agreed to before hanging up). “You’re still worried about me being cold?” 

“Well yeah,” you chime, shoving another fry in your mouth, sandwich having been well and finished off by this point. 

Asante motioned you closer, and when you complied, he pulled you flush against his side. 

You let him, making sure that he wasn’t about to fall asleep eating, before relaxing against him and dumping the last few of your fries into his own container; Asante took your to-go box and set it under his own before the wind could blow it away. You closed your eyes and moved his arm, blocking out the cold from attacking your nose by burying it in the crook of his elbow. This thankfully didn’t impede Asante’s ability to hear you. 

The conversations that the two of you found yourselves having jumped around from topic to topic, falling into familiarity. And after Asante finishes his food, he realizes how quiet you had gone, instead opting to absently trailing a finger over his tail and looking over his pattern. He almost wants to tease and ask you what you’re doing but decides against it. 

You, for your own part, don’t realize how long you have been quiet, admiring the pattern of his tail. While you can’t see how the scales fade or taper off on his torso because of the black hoodie and fishnet, along with the wrapped fabric just under that – not that you mind – there is plenty else to keep your attention. A beautiful blue-gray color broken up by black spots decorates the upper portion of his tail, but as your eyesight trails down you see the splattering pattern of white stripes that take over, stark against the lowest portion of his tail as it sits over almost black scales. You have an idea of what to expect snakeskin to feel like, so it doesn’t catch you off guard. But because Asante is still wiggling in place, not that the fact really registers with you for the moment, you catch sight of the muscle rippling right under the surface. You’re still brushing a hand against his tail gently, completely enraptured with it before he finally places one hand over your own, silently amused at the way you jump and look up to him with wide eyes. 

“Having fun?” 

You shrink for a moment in embarrassment, but Asante does not seem keen to let you do that, intertwining his fingers with yours while his hand continues to rest atop your own. “I don’t mind it,” he assures, tail tightening around the two of you. “Well, I don’t mind you touching my tail at least.” 

The significance of his comment it not lost on you, but you say nothing, just curling further into him and getting comfortable, unwilling to remove your hand from his and still thumbing circles against the side of his tail as the two of you continue talking, despite the darkness finally starting to settle in overhead like an inky blanket. 

Unfortunately, this means the chill of the air only grows colder, and it can no longer be ignored by either of you when another passes. So reluctantly you both begin packing up, with you stealthily snatching away the trash and running it over to throw it away before he can try and stop you, insisting that you he can be a gentleman at least. He has that small pout once more on his face, but it drops just as fast when you knock your shoulder against his own, fingers brushing just slightly against the skin of his tail. 

Admittedly you both seem to be dragging your feet, even though you can just as easily call one another when you have to split ways for the night. But it isn’t the same, and after a year and a half of thinking this would not be possible, you were milking this time for everything you could. 

You can wholeheartedly admit that time is now your enemy, and if it could be bothered to stand still for a little while you might be willing to forgive it. Just to buy a little more time here in this moment with Asante. 

Seemingly having noticed you lost in thought he tilts your face toward him for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

“Is it too much to say I wish we could stick around a bit longer?” 

Asante shrugs. “Is it too much to say I wish I didn’t have to go home alone tonight,” he quips, mimicking your words. His comment works and you flush once more, shaking your head before he allows you to pull him into a hug. 

“We’ll have to figure something out to spend some more time together next time.” 

Asante, more than comfortable sapping your heat away and curling into you, hums in response before pulling back to look you in the eye. “Maybe next time could be a date?” 

The way your face lights up is mirrored in his own and you more than happily agree. “I think we could make that work.” 

A weight seemed to drop from his chest as he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good, because I've wanted to take you on a date for a while now, and tonight really cemented that” he admits. 

“How long?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Tell you next time,” he promises, placing a chaste kiss on your lip before pulling away and nudging you forward to the exit of the park. He notices the way you freeze for a moment but go soft at the action “But at least let me walk you back to where we met earlier, I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I can call you after we split, if you want. I wouldn’t mind talking still.” 

He seems to think about it for a moment but inevitably agrees. “Deal, but you have to sleep as soon as you’re safe in the door, you still have work tomorrow. "Which, if that coworker gives you any more trouble, I have no issues showing up and making him uncomfortable,” he assures. 

“You know, it still surprises me how protective you can get. You seem so shy sometimes.” 

“I was when I was younger, like hide behind my mom or run-away levels of shy. And then I made friends with people even shier than me and I just kind of stepped into the role. Also, my sister. Also her. She just gets into so much trouble,” he says, completely exasperated. 

It has you laughing once more but you say little else, “I’ll let you know if he’s an ass anymore.” You appreciate his promises of security all the same and you’re more than happy to enjoy the comfort of the silence that settles into place around the two of you as you make your way back to where you had originally met those few hours earlier.

[corruptedlynx]

Werewolf x Reader

"Kornerstone Bakery"

Myron Arches [Werewolf Male]

Word Count: 7,531 SFW

Summary: Moving to a new town without a support network can be terrifying at times, sure, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t plenty of things to do and see as you get settled in. And finding a bakery just a short distance from your home may just end up being one of the best finds so far, especially with the cute guy working the counter when you go in. Endearingly shy, you decide it’s certainly worth the effort to get to know him – and all the fresh goods are a win too. 

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The moment you swing the door open you know that this bakery is about to become one of your favorite spots in town. 

The chime of the gentle bell knocked by the door is welcoming in its own right, but it is nothing compared to the wave of smells that greet you – though it is a hard enough feat to beat the smell of fresh baked goods at all, you figure. Still, the glass display cases are lined with loaves of bread and other sweets. The cinnamon rolls that still have steam rolling off them having already caught your eye. 

A gentle voice snaps you from your hungered window shopping and you look up to the register to meet the gaze of the man who greeted you. A lean man, with a thick curl of light blonde hair and more freckles than you could ever hope to count is standing there wearing an apron covered in flour. He even has a bit smudged across his cheek, but you cannot be sure he even notices. 

He’s sunshine, very cute sunshine incarnate, you decide as you step up to meet him at the register. 

“First time here?” His voice is just as soft as the rest of his features, and you almost swear that the accompanying smile makes you feel warmer than the bread must be. 

“That obvious?” 

“Small town, so we get a lot of familiar faces.” he chimes, wiping his hands with a damp rag before setting it aside.

You smile, nodding along and slipping your hands into your pockets. “I just moved in about a week ago, but today’s really the first day that I've been out exploring.” 

This seems to catch his interest and he tilts his head as he looks you over. “Hopefully we’ve made a good first impression then – the town, I mean.” The young an seems to flush at his own words, stumbling before shaking it away and looking back to you. “Any ideas what you want?” 

You hum, mulling it over and leaning back to take one more look across the display case. Though you already know what you want first. “For now, just a cinnamon roll, and I may grab a few other things before I leave.” There are a small cluster of empty tables off to your left, and that should give you plenty of time to check in with friends, and maybe check out the cute baker some more too. 

The man in question steps away for a moment before bringing you one of the cinnamon rolls from the fresh batch, shooting you a quick smile as he does and waving away your offered card. “You can pay before you leave, how about that. So, if you do get anything else it’ll just be on one transaction.” 

You agree before wandering over to a table while the baker turns back around to continue cleaning up the store. You almost walk right into a chair and stumble past it for a moment thanks to the way you are too busy devouring the baked treat in your hands. You choose not to turn around, least the man is watching you. Lips pursed as you stand there for a moment thinking about what had happened before finally slumping into the seat with a pleased groan. 

It doesn’t take long after that to lose yourself in your own little world, with the thrum of soft acoustic songs playing in the background and a cinnamon roll that has no business being as good as it was already finished. You’re in the middle of replying to one of your friends and contemplating how many more sweets you might be able to handle when you’re caught off guard by the chime of the door, eyes flicking up on instinct. In the threshold stands a man who bears a slight resemblance to the baker, but bulkier and his hair is shaved down to almost his head, with a scruffy beard still obviously growing in. He shoots you a quick wink and you turn back to your phone instead, not all that interested. Seemingly unphased he cups his hands around his mouth, something you can still see in your peripheral, before he yells at the top of his lungs. “Myron!” 

There is a shuffling from the back where the cute baker had vanished just a few minutes prior. Now he looks decidedly less amused, face in a scowl as he stares down the gleeful man. “I have a customer, Joel, please keep your voice down.” 

It’s a sentiment that you echo in your head, your ears still ringing as you rub away at one, trying to clear up the sharp noise in vain. You look to the baker, Myron, for only a moment and he flashes you an apologetic smile before turning back to the older man. “Uncle Jess isn’t here,” he drawls, stepping forward and keeping his voice low, likely hoping to lead by example. 

It doesn’t work. 

Joel still speaks as loudly as he can, over exaggerating each word. “Well tell him I can’t work this Monday.” 

You can almost feel the relief radiating off Myron, but Jole apparently does not – or at the least he ignores it. “You always call out after a full moon; I don’t even know why he asks you to be here for opening.” 

“Because, my sweet little baby brother,” his words drip with condescension as he steps forward, pinching at Myron’s cheek as he speaks, “you’re the one who wanted to keep the bakery open the day after a full moon. And Uncle Jess doesn’t want to come in those days.”  

It’s that same babying voice you’ve heard before growing up, but Myron brushes his hand away with a warning growl. “I handle it every full moon and he day after, I can do it again.” He says nothing more, turning his back on Joel before busying himself, clearly not interested in hashing the conversation out any further. 

For his part, Joel seems to take the hint this time, or maybe his brother’s actions just cause him to lose interest, but he only shrugs it off and turns to walk out the door without further incident. 

You’re watching him leave when you hear Myron speak next. 

“I’m sorry about my brother.”  

You wince, realizing your disapproval had likely been written all over your face and you wave his apology away. “I know how it goes sometimes. But” you say, trying to figure out if you want to finish your sentence, finger thrumming against the case of your phone, “do you guys need any help around here?” 

“Usually it’s fine, but when you have a family business run by werewolves then full moons can get a little out of hand.” 

“Can’t be worse than middle schooler werewolves, can it?” 

Myron scrunches his face up in thought, and you can catch the little smile just barely visible. “I think it depends on which of my brothers gets involved.” 

This does at least leave you laughing for a moment, and when you do sneak another glace you can see a far more satisfied look on the werewolf’s face. Truthfully you hadn’t even realized he was one, but there were plenty of species who passed as human at first, and most people didn’t make a big show of telling everyone. “Well, if you guys ever need a little help around here, I’m not gonna be catching full moon fever anytime soon.” 

“A little bit of help with the register on those days might be nice,” he comments. “But I wouldn’t want to keep you from actual job.” 

“I work from home, and my schedule can be flexible, I don’t think helping out here every now and again would do much damage.” You point to the empty plate in front of you with a grin, “I’ll even take payment in cinnamon rolls.” 

Myron does laugh at that, and you notice the way his hand seems to cover his face as he turns away to do so. It’s becoming obvious that he’s a shy person, but that’s even more attractive to you. “I think we can work something out – but I'm sure you still have stuff to worry about with moving. So why don’t you call the store when you get everything squared away and we can talk more about it?” 

You agree, telling him your name before finally moving from your seat to clean up and buy a loaf of bread for home. It isn’t hard to see the pink tint to his checks the entire time you’re checking out, but you have a bit of mercy on him and only buy one more loaf of bread before waving goodbye and heading home. 

Maybe it’s because of how excited you are to spend a little extra time at Kornerstone Bakery with Myron (as if you had not been going down there every other day for the last two weeks under the pretense of just picking up snacks), but the day had finally come. 

You had spoken with Myron again while the bakery was slow the week prior about lending a hand now that you were settled into a rhythm with your job and life in your new town. The offer still stood for you to help out three days a month: the day before, the day of, and the day after a full moon. The first two would be easy, relatively, but the third was probably going to bring a lot of cranky werewolves to the door. 

Myron himself would likely be tired and wanted to focus instead on baking, seeing as it was usually their busiest day of the month. 

If everything went well enough you had even offered to help out more during their busier seasons and times, but there had been little discussion of that. Granted, that was more a slightly selfish attempt at getting closer to the curly haired baker. 

Over the last few visits to Kornerstone, you had quickly realized something in particular; if Myron wasn’t in Bakery Mode – as his uncle had put it – then he was an incredibly shy individual, more prone to hiding in the back flustered than shooting back any flirty remark. 

His uncle Jess had actually been there the second time that you visited and had borne witness to your attempts at flirting with a far too amused grin. The moment that Myron had stuttered out an excuse and gone off to hide in the back, leaving you standing there with a confused expression, he had been quick to approach. 

“Don’t take it personally,” he had told you, patting your shoulder sympathetically. “You didn’t do anything wrong; he just can’t handle someone as pretty as you flirtin’ with him. Poor thing went off to hide in the back before you could see just how close to a tomato his face can get.” 

You had given him an apologetic smile, hand hooked to the fabric of your top and thumbing at it worriedly. “I didn’t realize he’d react like that, wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable, ya know?” 

“I doubt you did. I came to work the day after your first visit and had to listen to him gushing about this cute person who had been in the store, ‘fore his brother had shown up makin’ a right ass of himself.” 

Well, that had almost certainly been you. Given the mischievous glint in Jess's eyes and the way he would later try to get Myron alone with you each time following that visit, he knew for sure. 

Jess himself was nice enough. The bakery had been offered to him originally seeing as it was owned by his parents - Myron’s paternal grandparents whom you had yet to meet - but he didn’t want that responsibility. What he did want was to help out as he wished until he was sure Myron would be okay on his own, then move out to a larger ranch. He had certainly picked up the country accent during the years he had lived away from the state, and it was sticking around. It suited him though, you realized. 

But Jess wasn’t going to be there as a buffer for Myron to hide behind today, he was going to have to interact with you head-on while he showed you the ropes. After all, this was your training run, and you had been up far earlier than you had any business being in anticipation. Today was supposed to be a slow day, gearing up before tomorrow which would be the day prior to the full moon. A day most of the werewolf population started getting a bit antsy and everyone else seemed to catch a secondhand fever. 

And Myron, for his part, tried his best to keep as professional as he could when you showed up at the back door. The front of the store still dark with the blinds drawn. Daylight had yet to break, but it wouldn’t take long by now, with the first hints of the sun's rays already threatening to shine just over the tree line. 

“How long have you been here?” You had noticed immediately that you could already smell fresh bread and his apron was once more covered in flour until you couldn’t see the pattern. 

“An hour or two – I prep as much as I can after closing, and then while the first batches are baking I keep prepping for the rest of the day.” He waved you inside, shutting the door behind you in a half-graceful attempt at a sidestep. 

You said nothing about it, but it proved harder to bite back the amused smile on your lips. Having a little mercy first thing in the morning, you instead changed the subject to what you would be doing for the day. And it was simple enough. You had worked fast food before, and it was a simple POS system with all the prices and products preprogramed in. What was in warmed and sealed off display case was all the product they had, and if that ran out Myron could either give an estimate on a new batch or that was all. Though the latter really only applied to the cakes they sold – a different cake every day, and only one of each. If anyone gave you trouble then all you had to do was get Myron from the back, but he would likely be up there with you for much of the day. 

After all, it was supposed to be a painfully slow day. There were only so many times you could clean the same machines or mop the floors, do the dishes. And he had assured you that more often than not on shifts like this you would both be sitting in the little office (where he could see the door) or you could help him prep. 

But before the doors opened for the day, he had one more surprise for you, not that he had said it in as many words, losing his voice before he had gotten the sentiment across and motioned for you to sit. 

So, sit you do, at his awkward request. He motions for you to cover your eyes and with nothing more than a raised brow you comply. 

It takes a minute before you begin to realize what the surprise is, when the sweet scent of a cinnamon roll begins to grow closer. It becomes hard to hide your smile almost immediately, but you manage to keep yourself still just long enough – an impressive feat when you hear the clink of a plate against the table. 

“Okay, you can go ahead and look.” 

When you opened your eyes, you glanced up at Myron first, who flushes and looks away quickly from where he sits across from you with his own cinnamon roll. Yours is sat in front of you, steam still billowing off the sweet in plumes. Your grin was impossible to miss, and you knew that you were practically vibrating. 

“When we met you said you’d help out for cinnamon rolls – I'm still paying you – but I thought I could make us a batch to enjoy before work.” 

Your eyes lit up and you looked straight at him once more, “there’s more?” 

“I made a whole dozen just for us,” he assures, opting instead to dig into his own while his face burns red, trying instead to play it off or just ignore it. 

You take a moment, smiling at him and deciding on your next course of action before brushing aside teasing him for a moment. He still needed to have his wits enough to work for the day. “Thank you, Myron, this was really sweet of you.” 

Your sincerity still seems to turn the flush of his cheeks even redder and he only nods, shoving one more bite of his cinnamon roll into his mouth to avoid answering and stumbling over his words. 

The rest of the day goes by rather uneventfully, and it isn’t hard for the pair of you to fall into a a simple flow. With a hiccup here and there, that Myron is quick enough to dispel with little issue, the day is at a close faster than you can even realize. 

You’re in the middle of finishing taking stock of any items left when Myron steps up behind you almost silently. His ability to do so keeps surprising you and when he clears his throat to catch your attention you jump, spinning around on your heel in surprise. 

Myron apologizes, backing up for a moment. “I'm about to close up if you want to head home.” 

“You don’t want help after I finish this up?” 

He shakes his head, sliding the pages of inventory that you had set aside so far. “One of the other shop owners is going to stop by and grab whatever’s left and hand it out to anyone who needs it. I’m just gonna stay here and prep. But you’re going to want to go back home and get some rest, tomorrow this is really gonna pick up.” 

You nod, finishing up what you’re doing before bidding him farewell and heading out so you can once more make your way home. 

But on the way down the sidewalk you stop in your tracks, glancing over at the dim lights of a small bookshop you’ve passed regularly. 

Jess had mentioned it in passing, giving you a little nudge as he spoke, that Myron devoured books like he needed them to breathe. 

Swaying in place for a moment you almost continue your way before the thought gets the better of you and you’re turning right back around, making one small glance to the hours on the door just to ensure that they were open before slipping inside.  

It’s a quiet and rustic little shop, illuminated with dim, antique lamps along the walls and shelves. “One moment,” you hear an elderly woman calling from somewhere you’re unable to see. Only a heartbeat later she appears from around the corner with a warm smile. “How can I help you today?” 

You point your thumb behind you nervously. “I was just passing outside, and I wanted to stop in and see what you guys had in stock.” 

“A little something for yourself or someone else, dear?” 

You could feel the smile on your face before you even spoke. “A gift for someone else. Uh, Myron at the bakery is letting me help out a bit, so I was thinking about getting him something.” You shrug, slightly embarrassed at your admittance. “You know, for the upcoming full moon. I've heard they suck.” 

The older woman before you seems to have a knowing smile as she nods along, and the moment you finish it becomes clear why. “So, you’re the little thing that Jess was telling me about – he said you might stop by.” 

It feels like the tables turn when you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Do you know what you’re looking for or need some help?” 

It was then that you realized you had little information about what genre he would even be interested in, or what he did not already own – which was quite the collection from what you understood. “Some help, if you could. Yes, ma’am.” 

“Lucky you, Jess comes here to try and steal my homemade cookies, and that man tends to run his mouth over everything. He gossips more than my teenage grandchildren. Oh, and that sweet boy, Myron, he shops in here so much I already know what he has his eyes on.” She talks while wandering behind the counter. You can hear her shuffling items around before pulling a book and sliding it across for you to see. “It’s the next book in a series he reads, I hid it when I got it in waiting to see if you’d come inside – he likes buying his books in the store too much to order them online.” 

You run your finger along the spine, turning it over to skim over the summary, before you look over to the woman in front of you. She still sports a self-satisfied smile and a knowing look in her eyes. You thank her quietly, tucking the book close to your chest and fishing your form of payment out. Leaving the store in a mad dash, too embarrassed to stick around past your quick thanks. 

It won't be tomorrow that you give it to him, but it does seem like the perfect gift for the day after the full moon to pick his mood up. 

When you arrive at the bakery the next day the sight is almost enough to turn you right back home and go grab it, because Myron looks miserable when you walk through the door. You find him sitting in the dining area, arms crossed and head buried between them. 

Jess is diligently kneading the next batch of bread and glances up at you, only shaking his head before continuing with what he is doing. He himself isn’t looking too hot. 

You knew plenty of werewolves before, but you hadn’t really been close to any of them and as such had never really seen the effects a full moon had on them. It sucks, you don’t have to ask them, it’s clear as day on their face – and tomorrow is apparently supposed to be even worse. 

Slowly you make your way over to where Myron is resting, and he lifts his head to look up at your approach. Despite his lackluster state of being he still gives you a small smile and straightens up to greet you. Giving him a sympathetic smile, you take a seat across from him. “Morning sunshine.” 

He at least seems amused by it. “Morning, ready for your first real day?” 

“Ready as I think I can be.” 

He seems to brighten up just a minute before finally pushing himself to his feet, motioning you to follow. 

It becomes the start of what you can only define as a... tense two days. When you had been warned that most of the town was going to be crabbier than normal you hadn’t realized just what that entailed. Most got angry over the prices being the exact same thing they had always been and tried to bully you into a discount, thinking they could do so since you were little more than a new hire. 

Jess had stepped up to help you for a moment when one patron raised his voice and began to cuss, but you had only asked him to step back before you had turned right back around and ripped into the first werewolf that gave you an issue. Snapping back until you could imagine the man’s tail between his legs, he apologized. It seemed that nobody had expected such a response and even Myron had poked his head out as soon as he had heard the commotion begin. In stunned silence Jess had just nodded his head in approval and gone back to hiding in the back with his nephew. Better to leave you alone for the most part, despite what Myron had initially hoped – wanting to check in on you. But there was no call for concern, you took up the role easy enough and despite the slew of angry customers that tried to get their way, you handled all of them without real issue. 

Almost all of them. 

One woman in particular had stopped you in your tracks. She was pretty, sure, but the way she held up her nose at you and seemed to snap before you even had the chance to greet her had you barely suppressing a glare. “I want Myron to take my order, he always does it.” 

“He’s busy baking, but I would be more than happy to assist you.” it was probably the sweetest you had sounded all day, but it didn’t deter the woman before you. 

“Just go ask him, he’ll do it.” 

The dismissive tone in her voice had you clenching your teeth and narrowing your eyes. “No.” 

The words didn’t seem to register with her for a moment before she turned her full attention to you. “I told you to go get Myron.” 

“And I told you he was busy. I was brought on to assist during the full moon; today at Kornerstone Bakery you order with me or you step out of line and allow the people behind you to have their turn.” 

She seemed surprised for a moment before she laughed, a faux over-sugared laugh that grated your ears the moment it began. “Oh, you just don’t know who I am-” 

“I don’t care who you are,” you had snapped. You knew Myron didn’t have a partner, or sisters, and this woman certainly wasn’t his mother. Jess had told you all as much and let you know that none of their family stopped by the bakery on these days – more than happy to avoid the raging hormones. “Please order or I'm going to need to ask you once more to step out of line.” 

You might only be a human, but you could bet you were putting the werewolves of the town to shame for a moment with how you were growling out the words, tensing as you looked up at the taller woman. You were ready to pounce if push came to shove. 

Too busy staring the woman down – who was returning your look just as fiercely – you failed to register the quieted murmurs spreading through the line behind her. 

Noticing the questionable lull outside, both Jess and Myron stuck their heads out, before Myron just as quickly ducked further out of sight, hoping to go unnoticed. He would have headed all the way back, but the drive to keep an eye on you seemed to win out and he stayed put, barely noticing Jess petting his shoulder as he stepped out. 

“Abigale, always a pleasure to see you.” he offered, walking up next to you. 

She ignored his greeting entirely, skipping right back to her former demand. “I want Myron handling my order.” 

Jess only sighed and shook his head, motioning to you. “Our newest worker is perfectly capable of taking your order. Myron is busy.” 

You hold your tongue, but you can swear that if looks really could kill then woman before you would have dropped by now. 

She seems to coo at him before shaking her head. “I’m not moving and I'm not ordering until he comes to at least say hello like a gentleman.” 

Jess looks uncomfortable with the idea, and from the corner of your eye you can see Myron hiding, seeming to go pale at her words. Before the man before you has a chance to speak you interrupt; against you better judgment, this still isn’t your establishment. But this lady gives even you the creeps, and it’s painfully obvious neither of the men you work for wants to give in to her demands, though Jess looks about to fold just to get rid of her. “Move out of the line or I’m going to remove you myself.” 

That certainly draws everybody’s attention. 

“Excuse you?” 

“Leave.” Your tone holds no chance for argument, and you straighten up, looking her dead in the eyes as you cross your arms. “Myron has work to do, this establishment has money to make and people to serve, and you, ma’am,” you hiss, “are actively hindering those objectives.” If there was one thing that corporate email had at least bothered to teach you it was articulation. “So, once more, leave.” 

“You sure you’re gonna have a job after this little outburst, sweetheart?” 

“I am here because I wanted to be of assistance, this job or the lack of are in no way a determination of my living situation or a hinderance of my income.” You tilt your head down but hold your gaze, leveling her with a look your mother would weep in pride upon seeing. “I don’t know how they do business here normally, but I do not tolerate disrespect like this. And as I am the one taking orders, I am telling you now that your order is not going to be taken at this establishment. Not today. Remove yourself or I will do it for you.” 

You can feel the anxiety now, the way it seems to roll off of everyone else in the store. For a brief second you wonder if maybe you should have cared who she is – and then you recall the way Myron had shrunk back at her demand and any hesitance you might feel is squashed that very second. 

She watches you for a moment, weighing her options and eyes flashing, before she turns on her heels and slams her way back out the front door. 

“Should I actually be worried about that?’ you ask absentmindedly, still not looking up at Jess, you own eyes trained on the fleeting form of a woman you can only describe as having a tantrum in the street. 

“I wouldn’t suggest going outside during a full moon anytime soon at least,” he quips, leaning down next to you. “I probably should have warned you about that one, but we can talk more after shift is over.” 

You shake your head for a moment, tutting before turning to motion the next customer (they step forward carefully, like you’ll jump their throat for it). “Full moons; honestly.” 

You can hear the weary sigh that Jess heaves. “No, that’s just Abigale.” 

The rest of your shift seems to go by without incident, something you’re amazed at because now that it’s your official second day and the bakery was nearing closing everyone seemed to get worse with the dawning of the full moon drawing closer. There were quarrels between patrons, but a quick snap in their direction seemed enough to stop them – at least after someone exchanged a few hushed words with them. 

It was uneasy to say the least. 

Appreciated, in the sense that it made your job far easier, but it remained uneasy all the same. 

Once more, faster than you could realize, the last customer had wandered out the door and the bakery was closed down – earlier than normal given the events of tonight were already beginning to have their effect. 

Jess and Myron stood off to the side speaking in hushed voices while you wiped the counter down, and the moment that the curly haired baker glanced over at you in concern you could feel the pit drop in your stomach. With your little show earlier you well and truly might have just screwed over any chance you had with him, you realized. You stepped back and slouched, sighing in aggravation as quietly as you could with your body facing the tightly shut blinds and locked door. 

“Hey, you good?” 

To your surprise, it was Myron who had approached you – you had halfway been expecting Jess with a quick “sorry, but maybe just stick to being a customer” spiel. Instead, you winced before turning to face the man who had stepped up behind you. 

He still didn’t look the best, but you could certainly notice the way his features were beginning to change. His teeth seemed just a bit sharper, one fang beginning to poke out from his lip, with the hair on his arms becoming more prominent, joined by some new stubble, his ears having slowly become pointed over the hours. Most noticeably, his eyes almost seemed like they were glowing in the dim light of the lobby. 

But maybe it wasn’t the best time to ogle the man that was currently your boss when you very well might be getting fired. Blurting the first words out of your mouth you quickly curse your lack of a filter now that the day is done. “How badly did I fuck up with her?” 

He seemed taken aback by that before shaking his head. “I really did just want to check in with you first, I know today was a lot.” 

You hesitated in answering before leaning with your back against the display case. “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle with a few strict words, mostly, but going off what your uncle said earlier I feel like I might have a professional hit out on me now.” 

You could see the way his shoulders sagged. “Yeah, that was Abigale. She doesn’t really come in days near the full moon, much less on it, so I didn’t really think of warning you about her.” 

“So, what’s her deal?” 

He seemed to think for a moment, shifting until he leaned back against the display next to you, though he still kept his distance. “Ex girlfriend, actually.” 

“Jesus, what’d you do, cheat?” 

“No,” he huffed, “but she did. And I dumped her. But her dad is rich as hell and spoiled the life out of her, so she didn’t take me being the one breaking things off well at all.” He shrugged at the memory before closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “She has to be the one to decide when things end. So, she takes every chance she can to get near me, and nobody really stops her.” 

“Because daddy dearest always gets her what she wants? Including a get out of jail free card for any consequences she might face.” You hazard, looking over to him with a sympathetic glance. 

Myron doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. You know the answer. 

“So, on a scale of 1 to 10, how fired am I for basically telling her to fuck off?” 

This does work, and for the first time since meeting him you actually see him laugh. Really laugh, without trying to hide it. 

“You’re not fired, not even close. But I don’t think we’re opening the bakery tomorrow after all. I’m gonna take the day off before she tries to show up again.” He motions over to Jess, who is not so stealthily watching the pair of you from the office. “His idea, which also means he gets to handle closing.” 

You make a small sound of acknowledgment before furrowing your brows. “Oh.” 

This catches Myron’s attention, and he glances over to you. (Jess is leaning out of his chair to hear you too, but you both ignore the creaking sound.) 

Embarrassed at what you were going to admit you find yourself digging your hands back into your pockets, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “I was gonna bring you a gift tomorrow, but I guess now I have to wait to do that until the next time I visit.” 

Myron stares straight ahead as well, cheeks flushed red once more before he steals a glance and shuffles forwards. “You got me something?” 

He seems utterly amazed at the mere idea, and despite your disappointment at now needing to wait, you still find it endearing. 

“Well, I wanted to get something for my favorite werewolf.” 

“You’ve known me a little over two weeks.” 

“And yet you’re my favorite werewolf.” 

It’s Jess’s voice that breaks through next. “Take a compliment, kid!” 

Myron just shoots him an unimpressed look before glancing back over at you. 

It’s then you decide that the full moon has 1 major benefit – Myron seems a bit slower to run off the moment you fluster him, and you’re enjoying it. So instead, you choose to take advantage of that fact. “Well, maybe you could walk with me back to my place and I can give it to you tonight?” 

This however stops the poor man in his tracks immediately and you swear he almost chokes on air, playing it off as an itch in his throat as he motions that he is fine. He is, in fact, decidedly not fine. 

“Or I can just bring it by in a few days.” you offer, trying to salvage whatever was left of the conversation. You chance a look over to Jess but then man is far too busy laughing silently to himself to be of any use. 

It takes Myron a moment more before he finally manages to respond. “I wouldn’t mind. But I just- I.” he stops, hand at the back of his neck and groans, trying to force out the words he wants. It’s with one deep breath that they finally seems to line them up the way he wants, and starts again, slowly. “But with how late it is, I’d probably change forms soon even if I tried putting it off, so would you mind if I shifted before we started that way?” 

He looks nervous just asking, but it’s like wires clicking in your brain and you know that wolfed out Myron is something you absolutely need to see. As soon as possible. 

Managing to keep your cool (you don’t, but he’s too flustered to notice) you agree, offering to wait outside in the meantime. You don't need to ask to figure that he would likely be just as shy about transforming as he was about most other things, so this offer saves him from even having to ask. You don’t mind waiting for him as is. 

You really don’t mind waiting for him when you finally hear the click of the door and watch as a large wolf shimmies out and into the back lot, before standing to his full height. 

Myron is attractive enough in his human form. But his wolf form is downright stunning, and you’re certain it’s something you want the chance to see more of in the future. The base of his coat is a fluffy, soft cream or off white, dappled with light brown marks scattered across his body, faint enough they’re hard to see at first - you can only guess it’s how his freckles translate over. But what draws your eyes is the pale oranges that decorate his fur, blending seamlessly with the cream color; they adorn his snout, and his ears where they sit the brightest, they stretch from the top of his head all the way to his tail which you see swishing. The way his amber eyes really do look as though they’re glowing now. 

It's the swishing movement that finally breaks your trance and you feel a little flustered at being caught blatantly looking him over. You know you have because even in this form he is just as easy to read. Instead trying to break the tension you blurt the first thing that comes to your mind once more: “you’re like a lightly toasted marshmallow.” You snap your mouth shut with an audible clack of teeth on teeth the moment the words are past your lips and close your eyes, grimacing. But to your surprise you hear a deep rumble from Myron, the closest that he can get to laughing in this form – incapable of speech or exceedingly human sounds. 

Instead, he hunches down closer to your form before nodding for you to lead the way. 

You do so and start off on the already familiar path. Myron does his best to slow down so you can keep up with him, easily looming over you in this form, and it leaves you hurrying after him regardless. It isn’t an issue that really phases you, the extra time is worth the minor hiccup. You're so busy regaling him with one too many embarrassing stories to pay much attention to it anyways. But you do still notice the way that his eyes seem to wander over in the direction of the bookstore you had visited only a day prior. You can see the old woman behind the counter and when she catches sight of the two of you she gives you both a knowing look, returning to her own end of day tasks. 

You both hurry off after that instead of broaching the subject. But you can’t help the smile on your lips knowing what gift you have waiting for him. 

Thankfully the distance between the bookstore and your own humble rental isn’t a far one and you’re giddy the moment you see your home. The energy must be infectious, because Myron seems to lighten up, tail starting to pick of speed and ears perked as he watches you bound forward. Your door isn’t exactly made for a full-blown werewolf to waltz in through, so you tell him to wait for just a moment before you bound inside, heading straight for your room as you toss you bag to the side haphazardly. 

Grabbing the book off your nightstand and returning outside you find Myron sitting dutifully on your porch, head cocked to the side as he studies you and tries to catch an early glimpse of whatever you’re hiding behind your back. Instead, you step back, mischief written all over your face. “Close your eyes,” you mimic from days ago. He snorts but does as you ask, going so far as to cover his eyes with his hands. 

You take the brief moment to admire him once more before bringing the book in front of you both. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.” 

It takes him just a minute to register what he’s looking at, but you can practically hear the moment all the gears click into place. Physically it’s obvious. His eyes go wide, and he excitedly snatches the book away, trying to be as careful as he can while he thumbs through the pages. But the most obvious sign is his tail, going a hundred miles a minute and thumping repeatedly against the potted plant next to him. 

You’re almost concerned about him pushing it off. Before you can decide if you want to move it you’re shocked back with the feeling of something soft and cold pressed right to your cheek. It takes a moment before you realize Myron has shoved his cold snout right against you, nose first before all you feel is soft warm fur where he remains. 

You doubt he even notices, a slew of happy noises reverberating from him. You can barely see the book clutched tight against his chest and his tail still going just as fast. 

What he does notice however is you setting a hand against the crook of his jaw, burying your fingers into his fur. 

He rips back that moment, ears pinned, and you don’t need to guess how embarrassed he must feel, so you shift the subject back to the book. You had already been warned by Jess that touch was a rarity to receive from Myron, too painfully shy to ever initiate or indulge in it. 

“Hopefully you don’t already have that one, but I wanted to get you a gift.” 

And you hear it again immediately, the rhythmic thumping of his tail and he looks down at the book in his grasp before shaking his head, gaze soft. 

The sun is starting to go down and you know he’ll need to head back soon. You have a date planned with your bathtub after the day you’ve had. But it’s bittersweet to suggest he head out. So you don’t, not directly. 

“Do you want me to grab you a bag? So you can carry it back to your place.” 

He nods once before his gaze begins trailing excitedly over the cover once again. 

Leaving him enthralled with his newest edition you slip inside and grab a bag and a piece of loose string, before stepping outside once more. You motion for the book, which he reluctantly lets go of, and you tie the twine around it to keep it shut before slipping it inside the bag and handing it over. 

To your surprise, Myron sticks his head out and gingerly takes the handles of the bag between his teeth, shooting you one more grateful look before lumbering down into your yard. It’s a quick look back over his shoulder, his tail still wagging like a whirlwind, before he gives a low guttural howl and takes off back in the direction of town on all fours – leaving you laughing and calling out that you’ll see him soon as he vanishes. 

[corruptedlynx]

Welcome to my blog! EST. 2023

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「 You can call me Lynx. 」

She/Her, 20s, Sep. 27, Queer

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This blog is for any Monster x Readers stories I want to write, both SFW and NSFW. This does not exclude alien-lovers or robot-lovers, I see y'all too. I'm handling all forms of monster-lovers, honey. 18+ ONLY

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Requests are Open! [SFW ✅ || NSFW ✅]

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Tag Directory:

🌙 "# The Lynx Post Office" - Non-stories; posts, asks, etc. 🌙 "# Lynx's Story Corner" - ALL stories will be tagged with this 🌙 "# Netflix & Nap" - SFW Stories 🌙 "# The Monster Mash" - NSFW Stories

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Note: SFW stories are colored blue; NSFW stories are colored pink.

.𓍊𓋼𓍊 𓆏 𓍊𓋼𓍊.

MONSTERPOST

Minotaur(s)

Asterion Graves - Snowed In (WIP)

Naga(s)

Asante Thorne - First Meets

Werewolves

César Guillen-Huerta - Predator & Prey (WIP)

Jess Arches - [Title TBA] (WIP)

Myron Arches - Kornerstone Bakery; Late Nights (WIP)

[corruptedlynx]

Ahhh! Please tell me there's gonna be a Jess story! 🥺 I love Myron! He's cute! But I'm dying to see more of his uncle! 🤭

I hadn't originally considered it because I was making him up as I went, but honestly he grew on me very quickly 😂

I'll definitely start thinking about making a story for Jess as well in the future!

-Lynx

[extra-wolf]

Naga x Reader

"First Meets"

Asante Thorne [Naga Male - Blue Beauty Rat Snake]

Word Count: 6,118 SFW

Summary: You had been looking forward to this night all week, even with your nerves sitting wild in your stomach since the decision had been made – that you would finally get to meet “Vesper,” a guy you had befriended over the last year from a site that you been frequenting. Despite your excitement initially, your tune is changed at first when a coworker of yours finds you and becomes far too pushy, only for your knight in shining scales slithers in to save you. Thankfully Asante’s presence is a quick turn-around for your mood and you enjoy your night with him. 

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Vesper, the screen name you had known him by for almost a year and a half now, had quickly become a staple in your life upon getting to know one another, having met over a digital tournament where he had consistently beat you by only a hair. Between both you and your opponent's competitive streak and cynical humor the chat had become a crackling trash fire in all the best ways. Fast enough it had led to a friend request, then to more 1-on-1 gaming sessions including voice calls instead of the prior text chats; leading itself to even more intense banter. 

Eventually the friendship jumped from the game to other messaging apps and blogging sites, continuing on a regular basis. Messages and phone calls going until one or both phone batteries finally died, and you were forced to stop, or your eyes betrayed you and fell shut. 

Either way, it became increasingly clear to all of your friends that you had certainly become enamored with “Vesper,” whose real name you still did not know – he had taken to joking that he would finally tell you the day that you two met in person. Something neither of you had spoken about, assuming the other lived too far away. After all, the chances you lived close enough to just visit one another were likely infinitesimal, or it felt as much, and neither of you seemed eager to get your hopes up. 

However, this did not stop the pair of you from talking most nights, with him even learning your name after a particular phone call had led to your slipping up in a half-awake state. You had forgotten about telling him until the next night when he called you by your name in another game and your heart seemed to stop for a moment. He had won that round, and you really could not bring yourself to be annoyed about it. 

You knew that you had feelings for Vesper, but you pushed them aside. Despite the teasing and borderline flirting that often transpired between the pair of you, you had never given any indications about your actual feelings. Too needy for physical affection and too scared that being honest could change your dynamic. There was just no need, at least as far as you disputed with your friends, who didn’t seem to believe your half-hearted defense. You had never even seen a picture of him, you had continued to argue, or had a video call – despite his offers, since you had always changed the subject, too nervous about actually seeing him. One of your best friends had only rolled their eyes and called you a coward before shoving you jokingly and acting as though they were counting down the days until something finally happened. 

You never say anything about this ongoing war with your friends to Vesper, but you tell him plenty else, just as he entrusts you with information about his life. Still, neither of you had given anything away that could lead to naming where one another lived, and were not pushing the other to divulge, content still to just be speaking together. 

And speak you were that night, listening to the coos of apology and snarky responses when you listed off something particularly egregious that had gone on that day or the way in which your managers had handled the situation. 

You worked in retail, and while usually your snappish comments or humorous recounting was the byproduct of a noteworthy customer and their absolute meltdown in the store, not this time. This was the effect that one of your coworkers tended to have on you when you were unable to avoid him. He had a nasty habit of overstepping boundaries and getting far too touchy in general. And despite the different ways that you had tried to get him to back off, you had been the one to be reprimanded while they had written his behaviors off as being harmless fun or accidents time and again. It was a side effect of being the owner's cousin, you had reasoned over the phone as you flung a pillow back against your headboard in agitation. 

“What did the manager say again when you told him?” 

“He just said that it was an accident and I needed to let it go!” you shouted, voice pitching, before face planting into your pillow next to you while your phone remained atop the nightstand on speaker. You didn’t need to lift your head to hear the snarl of anger from Vesper. 

“Flat out groping you for the third time this week alone, and everything else he does, doesn’t add up to an accident!” 

Vesper had a protective streak over all his friends, and that certainly included you, something you could appreciate. You could hear the drumming of his fingers against his desk – a regular habit of his when he got worked up - and the sound of almost a growl on the other end of the phone before you finally lifted your head back up. “If it’s anything, I at least had a pick me up on my way home.” 

Vesper had to take a moment to compose himself and you could hear the shift before he finally spoke again, tone changed to try and pry a laugh out of you. “My wonderful self?” he drawled out. 

You could only chuckle, easily imagining him stretched out with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and his feet kicked up. Not that you could really know, but you felt you had a well enough idea of him to imagine how he acted. “Not this time.” Your next words were cut off by the over-dramatized gasp from Vesper, leaving you to laugh, at least a little. “On my way home there’s this little pet shop, and they have these little cats along the bottom of the window like a parade – but somebody went in and drew little wizard outfits on every. Single. One.” you chimed, starting to crack another smile at the thought. “I mean, I feel a little bad because they’re all in marker and that has got to suck to clean up, but for some reason when I saw them, I just started breaking down laughing. They were so cute.” 

Vesper was quiet for a moment before he asked if you had taken a picture of any of the little kitties. 

More than elated at getting to share them you chimed yes, pulling your phone back over to you and sending a slew of photos of the wizard kitty parade – double checking that none of them had your face reflected in the shop window them before sending. You were still talking about your favorite ones as Vesper hummed in response, until you realized he was being suspiciously quiet. “Ves?” 

He seemed to stumble over his words before you heard a sharp intake of breath. “This is gonna sound a little weird, but is this,” he heaved a sigh once more, seeming to rethink his words, “okay, is this Katey’s Kitty Pet Shop? On 4th Ave.” 

You froze for a moment at hearing the name of the shop. Glancing at your phone for a moment you had to think; to answer truthfully or lie out your teeth. Even if Vesper knew you were lying, you trusted him not to pressure you any further about it. But he knew, he really did already know, and it didn’t feel worth it to try and deny as much. Besides, a small part of your brain was sending up fireworks that maybe he had been closer this last year and a half than you had ever let yourself think. 

Before you could finalize your thoughts, you were brought back by the voice on your phone, with Vesper now trying to change the subject, figuring you were uncomfortable with him mentioning it. 

“I’m sure it’s not, sorry” he chuckled, though you heard through the awkwardness of it immediately. 

After one more beat of silence you finally responded, getting your mouth to move the way that you wanted. “Yeah, that's the shop name. There’s that, uh, ya know, coffeeshop two doors down called New Beanland.” 

Vesper lost it laughing at the mention. “Yeah! Oh, so, I’ve never been inside myself, but it seems like they have enough business, so I guess it’s good?” 

“Hey,” you snark at him, “that happens to be my favorite coffeeshop, thank you very much.” 

“You always get a London fog; I feel like that’s a low bar to judge by” 

“It isn’t! Besides, it’s just funnier to get it there because of the name. Also they’re cheaper,” you reason, rolling over onto your back and moving the phone onto the pillow, right next to your head with a small smile on your face. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give that one to you.” He relented, and once again it was easy to imagine him holding his arms up in defeat. 

For a moment everything fell silent before you hazarded asked another question. “So, I guess you go by the pet shop regularly?” 

“My sister loves that place, and she drags me out there as many times as she can.” he groans. 

You know it’s half-hearted, having heard him doting over his young sister plenty of times in the background of other calls or just talking about her accomplishments in general. 

A few more back and fourths were discussed about the pet shop and the very sad looking cat in the window – which Vesper had been forced to deny his sister adopting more than once due to their own cats. But from there the conversation moved on just as naturally as anything else until finally you were bent over on your side in the fetal position, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the intense waves laughter that wracked your body. It took another minute or two before you finally managed to calm down, eyes still closed as a few ripples of laughter occasionally broke the slowly calming atmosphere. 

As you had gone quieter you could hear the humming tone of Vesper on the other end, like he was trying to decide on his next words or was just a tad too unsure of himself to voice them. “What’s on your mind, Ves Man?” 

He snorted at the name. “I’m gonna ignore that.” He had to have sat forward because you could hear the creaking of the chair or his bed under his weight as he shifted. “I was wondering something, but I don’t want to push all this too far.” 

Your interest piqued you sat back up, head propped up on your hand. “You know you can’t tease me like that,” you chirped, prodding him into spilling. 

“I was wondering if I’ve ever seen you before while I was at the pet shop or something. Like if we were just right next to each other and I didn’t even know it.” He stopped for a moment more, fingers back to tapping out a made-up tune against the desk. “I was also thinking about us maybe getting to meet up finally. But I get figure that you’d be hesitant about doing that.” 

“Aren’t you nervous about the idea of meeting up?” 

“I mean sure, but it’s been more than a year and a half, and I’d like to put a face with the name – more than just your profile pic,” he mused. 

You bit your bottom lip, chewing at it while you mulled the thought over. You wanted to say that you needed more time to think about it, but you had been considering the same thing, and had for some time. “I’d like to finally meet up.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke, but thankfully Vesper had picked up on it, you knew because you could hear the excited smile in his tone as he next excitedly spoke. And then you realized it, you could no longer make out his words, a lulling slur to everything he said, prompting you to finally check the time. Your surprised laugh was what stopped his rambling on about what you could only assume were meeting ideas. “Vessie, Ves, my main man, my soulmate,” you teased, enjoying the quiet sound of laughing from your phone, “look at the time.” 

“Oh, woah – it is way later than I thought.” 

“And you’re more tired than I think you realize,” you asserted, prompting him towards the idea that it was time for him to sleep. 

He sighed, but did not argue it any further, “yeah, you’re right, you’re right. But you need sleep too. Don’t you have an opening shift tomorrow?” 

You winced at the thought before groaning, knowing that he was right. “Talk about it more tomorrow?” 

There was that same excited smile in his voice as he answered, having obviously leaned even further to the phone. “Absolutely. G’night.” 

“And good morning,” you chimed, finishing a sentence you both often threw at each other due to your different sleep schedules – tending to miss the other when either one of you would wake up. 

That conversation had been a month ago by this point, and you were more than excited that this evening was when you were supposed to meet with Vesper, who you had jokingly reminded was finally going to have to tell you his real name. He had offered to tell you beforehand, but you had instead decided the pair of you could take a selfie when you got there, and you would send that and his real name along to one of your best friends (who was more than excited for you as well, be demanding to know you were, well, not getting murdered). You were a bit more comfortable with the idea of meeting up alone given you knew all the cameras in front of the theaters and how well lit the area was, along with the regular foot traffic. And the two of you had planned to meet right in front of one of the best placed cameras that you knew of. As excited as you were, and as much as you wanted to draw out the mystery, you also wanted to be a bit smart about it, something Vesper still inclined you to be on a regular basis, even with this. 

And while he knew your first name, he still did not know what you looked like; you had at least shown him the majority of the outfit that you had planned to wear for your first meeting, so that he would be able to recognize you in the crowd. 

Now you were practically flying past the other people who dotted the streets, wind rushing past and bright colors flashing in your peripheral from all the lights and decorations that lined the late autumn streets and stores. Some at least had the decency to string out a few pieces of Thanksgiving décor given the holiday had yet to pass, but most stores were already sporting Christmas looks, not that any of that mattered as you hurried on your way. 

Your nerves were going haywire in your stomach, and you almost worried that if you stopped moving you might be sick – though that sounded much worse than it was. So focused on your nerves and on making it to your designated meeting spot, which you could finally see, you failed to hear someone calling your name. It wasn’t until that person had wrapped a tight hand around your arm and ripped you from your course that you were broken from your tunnel vision mission. Dizzy at the rough behavior you finally managed to look up at whomever had stopped you, your stomach dropping the moment that you realized it was your coworker. 

Of all the days that you wanted to see him, which was never, this was the worst of all times. 

The grin on his face was unnerving, and just added to the discomfort you felt as he spoke. “I was trying to get your attention.” 

You froze for a moment before managing to straighten yourself up, but found you were unable to pry your arm away. Instead, you flashed a quick smile, trying to be as nice as you could thanks to the creeping anxiety stopping you from being as rude as you would really prefer to be. “Yeah, I’m meeting someone actually, so I’m kind of distracted.” You tried pulling away once more but your words seemed to have just annoyed your coworker instead, who used his vice grip to pull you even closer to him. 

The stench of his breath was too close, and you could not help the way that your face skewed up in disgust before you noticed he was watching you and it prompted you to shift your expression to something passing as neutral. “Look, I really need to look out for who I’m meeting with, he should be here soon, so I’ve gotta get a move on.” 

“Just trying to get away from me?” he sneered, glancing around to see nobody paying any attention to the pair of you. “Because I don’t see anyone headed over here for you.” 

“He -” 

“I got reamed out because of you,” he cut you off, glowering from the side of his eye, his head still turned away while he looked around. 

A lie, you knew, as he had gotten less than a slap on the wrist. 

Finally, his attention shifted back to you fully. 

“Well then maybe you should have kept your hands off of her,” a deeper voice growled from behind you. You recognized it immediately, but before you could turn around and see him, or even speak, you coworker had gotten a single look at the man before shoving you away like you had burned him, sending you crashing roughly into the chest of who you knew must be Vesper. 

Unable to catch your balance on your own, you worried you might slip past and fall, until you were steadied by a solid arm wrapped securely around your shoulders. This kept you firmly planted with your back against his chest. And as much as you wanted to finally look up at Vesper, the way that your coworker was watching the both of you left you on edge enough that you did not feel safe taking your eyes away from him. 

Finally, your coworker looked up at Vesper and seemed to try and calm himself down, to make himself seem far more respectable than the rat he was. “It was just an accident.” 

Vesper didn’t even dignify your coworker’s blatant lie with a response, only giving a guttural warning noise. 

Your coworker, never the wisest man, opened his mouth to speak; but you could feel the way that Vesper straightened up, only able to imagine the look on his face as you watched your coworker shrink back and shut up. Apparently feeling as though it was no longer worth his time – and knowing this was a fight he was unlikely to win if it came to it – your coworker only waved you both off with a muffled cuss and turned tail, scurrying off the way that he had originally been headed. 

Still, you both waited, not allowing yourself to break your gaze until you finally watched him turn the corner, seeing him shoot you one more dirty look before vanishing. 

“He really is a greasy little bastard, isn’t he?” Vesper finally spoke. 

At the sound of his voice you finally allowed yourself to relax, shoulders dropping and head falling back against his chest where you could finally see his face. Despite the prior confrontation, when you finally made eye contact with Vesper, looking at you with the softest smile you could imagine, it was hard not to return the look immediately.  

You stayed silent for a moment, just taking in the man in front of you, from the crinkle of his eyes to the little patch of blue skin on the outer corner of each, which caught your attention before you were finally pulling away to get a proper look at him. 

It was then that you cracked up laughing until you were doubled over once again in a fit, as he often left you on calls. 

Utterly confused, he could only cock his head at you like a puppy, leaving one arm out for you to keep your balance. 

And finally, finally, you looked up at him with a cheshire grin. “He’s terrified of snakes,” you mused. The man in front of you, who you had automatically assumed to be human without meaning to, followed suit and began laughing as well. The naga man in front of you. 

The two of you shuffled against the wall between fits of laughter, realizing the odd looks that other passersby were shooting you and trying to stop anyone from stepping on or tripping over any part of Vesper’s long tail. Instead, he curled it around the both of you as you brushed aside the looks of others and tried to calm yourselves, only for the laughing to continue when one of you would risk looking at the other and crack all over again. 

After what felt like an eternity, but had only been about 15 minutes, the two of you finally caught your breath and calmed. 

Vesper was the first to speak. “Still need to send that picture to your friend, right?” 

You made a surprised noise, remembering the promise you had made to your friend before this night had begun. With little effort you pulled your phone out before handing it over to Vesper instead, who seemed to smugly understand that you wanted the taller of you two to take the photo. This led to him using his tail to push himself further upward until he could rest his arm on your head. Quickly enough though, he returned to his prior position, letting himself drape over you, before you moved one of his arms back around your shoulders and kept your hands there, smiling up at the camera along with him. 

Happy with the photo you made a ‘gimmie’ motion with your hands and he happily complied, relinquishing the device back to you. Appeasing himself instead by propping his head onto your shoulder and watching as you typed up your message. He said nothing until you started typing Vesper, causing you to jump when his voice rumbled out right next to your ear. 

“Asante.” 

You hummed in confusion, tilting your head to look over at him in question. 

“You’re using my screenname again, but my name is Asante.” 

You made a small noise to acknowledge what he said, looking back to your phone as you flustered from the way he had made himself comfortable, cheek to your shoulder as he looked up at you and spoke, his eyes never seeming to leave your face after he stopped. Quickly you sent off the text and slipped your phone away once more, knowing that you would be getting a barrage of messages as soon as it was seen. And for the moment you preferred to be focused on Asante. 

Initially you had thought it might take you much longer to warm up and be touchy with the man you were meeting, but it felt just as comfortable to be right on top of one another, as though you had both been doing it for far longer. 

Instead, you just closed your eyes and hummed, letting your head knock against his and stifling a laugh at his short whine in retaliation, not that he even bothered trying to move away from you. “You know how I was supposed to come up with something to do after we met up?” 

Asante groaned with a silent laugh as his arms dropped away and he pulled back just far enough to raise a brow at you with an exasperated expression. “You didn’t come up with anything?” 

“I was so nervous I thought I was gonna be sick, or like, chicken out,” you whined, bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. 

Asante only rolled his eyes affectionately before prying one of your hands away and nudging you to look at him. “But” he drawled out teasingly, “you’re here.” 

You smiled back, unable to stop yourself from preening under his fond expression. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Any ideas then?” 

“How about you pick this time?” 

Asante broke into a wide grin, and you noticed once again the way that the corner of his eyes crinkled and seemed to light up the moment he did. “So, there’s gonna be a next time?” 

“I mean, I hope so, after talking for as long as we have.” 

Asante nodded his head, motioning further down the street. “There’s a sandwich shop on the corner, they just have a window to pick it up from – we can order there or online. And there’s a park just a bit further down. We could go and eat at the park and just talk for a bit.” 

You swayed in place for a moment before agreeing, nudging him forward as you stepped over the coils of his tail around you. Asante said nothing as he watched you to ensure your balance, moving his tail out of the way before taking his place beside you, allowing the two of you to make your way in the direction of the sandwich shop. 

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and things turned quickly to banter and playful jabbing. You even managed to find a soft spot on his side that had him coiling away and laughing, mentally noting the fact that he was apparently ticklish for a later. It was something he must have realized judging on the warning look he seems to give you, not that it does anything to deter you and you both know as much. 

He’ll find something of note about you eventually, if he had not already, but you find that you don’t mind as much. 

It takes a bit longer to get to the burger joint due to your fooling around, but you do manage it and get your food before making off to the park, still joking the entire way (and stealing more than a few fries from his tray – though you know he’s freely allowing you to do so). 

The spot that the two of you pick is a bit more secluded, but you can still see a few couples and families wandering about the park in the fading autumn light. The nip in the air is only growing more noticeable in the later hour, but it isn’t too bad for you yet. Carefully you glance up at Asante, who you notice is shivering despite his hoodie. So, you slip off your jacket and hold it out to him silently as he munches away at his fries. 

Asante raises a brow as he looks at you, and you only shove the jacket further to him. 

“You’re shivering,” you comment, shaking the jacket in your hands. 

“I’m wearing a hoodie,” he defends. 

“Does it count when it has a titty window, slut?!” you exclaim, laughing as Asante almost immediately bends over, nearly choking while he tries to stop himself from laughing. 

“It counts,” he growls, though his smile is a dead giveaway as he sneaks an arm around you instead to pull you near him, tail curling around the pair of you securely where you both sit on the cold ground. 

You try wiggling out half-heartedly, but Asante keeps his hold on you, humming as he props his head on your shoulder once more, food abandoned by the both of you for the moment. 

“I think this works pretty good for keeping me warm,” he murmurs, going slack and making himself comfortable. Admittedly enjoying the warmth that is radiating off of you. 

“Asante are you just going to fall asleep on me?” 

“You can have my fries if I do,” he assures, voice steadily lulling out, though he tries to fight the overtake of sleep – just unwilling to pull away from you at the moment. 

You could only shake your head, placing your hand on his shoulder and nudging him back awake, though you could do little to convince him to move. “You can’t fall asleep on me in the middle of a park, especially if it starts getting colder.” Knowing he was a Naga certainly meant you had more concerns about being out so late in the autumn, but he seemed far less worried about any risks. 

Asante groaned, reluctantly pulling away before he really did fall asleep. Though that did not stop him from pouting, which he could see from the corner of his eyes was at the least causing you to smile and roll your own. 

“You big baby,” you chide, handing over your own fries to try and get him to drop the act. 

It works well enough, and he reaches over to accept the offering from you. “Is it my fault if you’re just the perfect heated pillow,” he asked, gesturing towards you in your entirety. 

The comment is enough to fluster you, causing you to look away before shaking your head and dismissing it for a moment; but Asante had caught your reaction and was left grinning, fully ready to abuse this information. 

He would hold off for now, not wanting to push boundaries too far in your first real meeting, but it was fun all the same to know. Still, having heard your expressed concerns he knew he likely had that same soft look on his face that he probably had prior in the evening (and as his sister had said earlier in the day upon seeing, made him look like a love-struck puppy and a bit dumb, which he had happily agreed to before hanging up). “You’re still worried about me being cold?” 

“Well yeah,” you chime, shoving another fry in your mouth, sandwich having been well and finished off by this point. 

Asante motioned you closer, and when you complied, he pulled you flush against his side. 

You let him, making sure that he wasn’t about to fall asleep eating, before relaxing against him and dumping the last few of your fries into his own container; Asante took your to-go box and set it under his own before the wind could blow it away. You closed your eyes and moved his arm, blocking out the cold from attacking your nose by burying it in the crook of his elbow. This thankfully didn’t impede Asante’s ability to hear you. 

The conversations that the two of you found yourselves having jumped around from topic to topic, falling into familiarity. And after Asante finishes his food, he realizes how quiet you had gone, instead opting to absently trailing a finger over his tail and looking over his pattern. He almost wants to tease and ask you what you’re doing but decides against it. 

You, for your own part, don’t realize how long you have been quiet, admiring the pattern of his tail. While you can’t see how the scales fade or taper off on his torso because of the black hoodie and fishnet, along with the wrapped fabric just under that – not that you mind – there is plenty else to keep your attention. A beautiful blue-gray color broken up by black spots decorates the upper portion of his tail, but as your eyesight trails down you see the splattering pattern of white stripes that take over, stark against the lowest portion of his tail as it sits over almost black scales. You have an idea of what to expect snakeskin to feel like, so it doesn’t catch you off guard. But because Asante is still wiggling in place, not that the fact really registers with you for the moment, you catch sight of the muscle rippling right under the surface. You’re still brushing a hand against his tail gently, completely enraptured with it before he finally places one hand over your own, silently amused at the way you jump and look up to him with wide eyes. 

“Having fun?” 

You shrink for a moment in embarrassment, but Asante does not seem keen to let you do that, intertwining his fingers with yours while his hand continues to rest atop your own. “I don’t mind it,” he assures, tail tightening around the two of you. “Well, I don’t mind you touching my tail at least.” 

The significance of his comment it not lost on you, but you say nothing, just curling further into him and getting comfortable, unwilling to remove your hand from his and still thumbing circles against the side of his tail as the two of you continue talking, despite the darkness finally starting to settle in overhead like an inky blanket. 

Unfortunately, this means the chill of the air only grows colder, and it can no longer be ignored by either of you when another passes. So reluctantly you both begin packing up, with you stealthily snatching away the trash and running it over to throw it away before he can try and stop you, insisting that you he can be a gentleman at least. He has that small pout once more on his face, but it drops just as fast when you knock your shoulder against his own, fingers brushing just slightly against the skin of his tail. 

Admittedly you both seem to be dragging your feet, even though you can just as easily call one another when you have to split ways for the night. But it isn’t the same, and after a year and a half of thinking this would not be possible, you were milking this time for everything you could. 

You can wholeheartedly admit that time is now your enemy, and if it could be bothered to stand still for a little while you might be willing to forgive it. Just to buy a little more time here in this moment with Asante. 

Seemingly having noticed you lost in thought he tilts your face toward him for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

“Is it too much to say I wish we could stick around a bit longer?” 

Asante shrugs. “Is it too much to say I wish I didn’t have to go home alone tonight,” he quips, mimicking your words. His comment works and you flush once more, shaking your head before he allows you to pull him into a hug. 

“We’ll have to figure something out to spend some more time together next time.” 

Asante, more than comfortable sapping your heat away and curling into you, hums in response before pulling back to look you in the eye. “Maybe next time could be a date?” 

The way your face lights up is mirrored in his own and you more than happily agree. “I think we could make that work.” 

A weight seemed to drop from his chest as he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good, because I've wanted to take you on a date for a while now, and tonight really cemented that” he admits. 

“How long?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Tell you next time,” he promises, placing a chaste kiss on your lip before pulling away and nudging you forward to the exit of the park. He notices the way you freeze for a moment but go soft at the action “But at least let me walk you back to where we met earlier, I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I can call you after we split, if you want. I wouldn’t mind talking still.” 

He seems to think about it for a moment but inevitably agrees. “Deal, but you have to sleep as soon as you’re safe in the door, you still have work tomorrow. "Which, if that coworker gives you any more trouble, I have no issues showing up and making him uncomfortable,” he assures. 

“You know, it still surprises me how protective you can get. You seem so shy sometimes.” 

“I was when I was younger, like hide behind my mom or run-away levels of shy. And then I made friends with people even shier than me and I just kind of stepped into the role. Also, my sister. Also her. She just gets into so much trouble,” he says, completely exasperated. 

It has you laughing once more but you say little else, “I’ll let you know if he’s an ass anymore.” You appreciate his promises of security all the same and you’re more than happy to enjoy the comfort of the silence that settles into place around the two of you as you make your way back to where you had originally met those few hours earlier.

[extra-wolf]

THAT WAS LOVELY! 🥰😍🥰

(Still worried about the ex gf though 😬)

Werewolf x Reader

"Kornerstone Bakery"

Myron Arches [Werewolf Male]

Word Count: 7,531 SFW

Summary: Moving to a new town without a support network can be terrifying at times, sure, but that doesn’t mean that there aren’t plenty of things to do and see as you get settled in. And finding a bakery just a short distance from your home may just end up being one of the best finds so far, especially with the cute guy working the counter when you go in. Endearingly shy, you decide it’s certainly worth the effort to get to know him – and all the fresh goods are a win too. 

------

The moment you swing the door open you know that this bakery is about to become one of your favorite spots in town. 

The chime of the gentle bell knocked by the door is welcoming in its own right, but it is nothing compared to the wave of smells that greet you – though it is a hard enough feat to beat the smell of fresh baked goods at all, you figure. Still, the glass display cases are lined with loaves of bread and other sweets. The cinnamon rolls that still have steam rolling off them having already caught your eye. 

A gentle voice snaps you from your hungered window shopping and you look up to the register to meet the gaze of the man who greeted you. A lean man, with a thick curl of light blonde hair and more freckles than you could ever hope to count is standing there wearing an apron covered in flour. He even has a bit smudged across his cheek, but you cannot be sure he even notices. 

He’s sunshine, very cute sunshine incarnate, you decide as you step up to meet him at the register. 

“First time here?” His voice is just as soft as the rest of his features, and you almost swear that the accompanying smile makes you feel warmer than the bread must be. 

“That obvious?” 

“Small town, so we get a lot of familiar faces.” he chimes, wiping his hands with a damp rag before setting it aside.

You smile, nodding along and slipping your hands into your pockets. “I just moved in about a week ago, but today’s really the first day that I've been out exploring.” 

This seems to catch his interest and he tilts his head as he looks you over. “Hopefully we’ve made a good first impression then – the town, I mean.” The young an seems to flush at his own words, stumbling before shaking it away and looking back to you. “Any ideas what you want?” 

You hum, mulling it over and leaning back to take one more look across the display case. Though you already know what you want first. “For now, just a cinnamon roll, and I may grab a few other things before I leave.” There are a small cluster of empty tables off to your left, and that should give you plenty of time to check in with friends, and maybe check out the cute baker some more too. 

The man in question steps away for a moment before bringing you one of the cinnamon rolls from the fresh batch, shooting you a quick smile as he does and waving away your offered card. “You can pay before you leave, how about that. So, if you do get anything else it’ll just be on one transaction.” 

You agree before wandering over to a table while the baker turns back around to continue cleaning up the store. You almost walk right into a chair and stumble past it for a moment thanks to the way you are too busy devouring the baked treat in your hands. You choose not to turn around, least the man is watching you. Lips pursed as you stand there for a moment thinking about what had happened before finally slumping into the seat with a pleased groan. 

It doesn’t take long after that to lose yourself in your own little world, with the thrum of soft acoustic songs playing in the background and a cinnamon roll that has no business being as good as it was already finished. You’re in the middle of replying to one of your friends and contemplating how many more sweets you might be able to handle when you’re caught off guard by the chime of the door, eyes flicking up on instinct. In the threshold stands a man who bears a slight resemblance to the baker, but bulkier and his hair is shaved down to almost his head, with a scruffy beard still obviously growing in. He shoots you a quick wink and you turn back to your phone instead, not all that interested. Seemingly unphased he cups his hands around his mouth, something you can still see in your peripheral, before he yells at the top of his lungs. “Myron!” 

There is a shuffling from the back where the cute baker had vanished just a few minutes prior. Now he looks decidedly less amused, face in a scowl as he stares down the gleeful man. “I have a customer, Joel, please keep your voice down.” 

It’s a sentiment that you echo in your head, your ears still ringing as you rub away at one, trying to clear up the sharp noise in vain. You look to the baker, Myron, for only a moment and he flashes you an apologetic smile before turning back to the older man. “Uncle Jess isn’t here,” he drawls, stepping forward and keeping his voice low, likely hoping to lead by example. 

It doesn’t work. 

Joel still speaks as loudly as he can, over exaggerating each word. “Well tell him I can’t work this Monday.” 

You can almost feel the relief radiating off Myron, but Jole apparently does not – or at the least he ignores it. “You always call out after a full moon; I don’t even know why he asks you to be here for opening.” 

“Because, my sweet little baby brother,” his words drip with condescension as he steps forward, pinching at Myron’s cheek as he speaks, “you’re the one who wanted to keep the bakery open the day after a full moon. And Uncle Jess doesn’t want to come in those days.”  

It’s that same babying voice you’ve heard before growing up, but Myron brushes his hand away with a warning growl. “I handle it every full moon and he day after, I can do it again.” He says nothing more, turning his back on Joel before busying himself, clearly not interested in hashing the conversation out any further. 

For his part, Joel seems to take the hint this time, or maybe his brother’s actions just cause him to lose interest, but he only shrugs it off and turns to walk out the door without further incident. 

You’re watching him leave when you hear Myron speak next. 

“I’m sorry about my brother.”  

You wince, realizing your disapproval had likely been written all over your face and you wave his apology away. “I know how it goes sometimes. But” you say, trying to figure out if you want to finish your sentence, finger thrumming against the case of your phone, “do you guys need any help around here?” 

“Usually it’s fine, but when you have a family business run by werewolves then full moons can get a little out of hand.” 

“Can’t be worse than middle schooler werewolves, can it?” 

Myron scrunches his face up in thought, and you can catch the little smile just barely visible. “I think it depends on which of my brothers gets involved.” 

This does at least leave you laughing for a moment, and when you do sneak another glace you can see a far more satisfied look on the werewolf’s face. Truthfully you hadn’t even realized he was one, but there were plenty of species who passed as human at first, and most people didn’t make a big show of telling everyone. “Well, if you guys ever need a little help around here, I’m not gonna be catching full moon fever anytime soon.” 

“A little bit of help with the register on those days might be nice,” he comments. “But I wouldn’t want to keep you from actual job.” 

“I work from home, and my schedule can be flexible, I don’t think helping out here every now and again would do much damage.” You point to the empty plate in front of you with a grin, “I’ll even take payment in cinnamon rolls.” 

Myron does laugh at that, and you notice the way his hand seems to cover his face as he turns away to do so. It’s becoming obvious that he’s a shy person, but that’s even more attractive to you. “I think we can work something out – but I'm sure you still have stuff to worry about with moving. So why don’t you call the store when you get everything squared away and we can talk more about it?” 

You agree, telling him your name before finally moving from your seat to clean up and buy a loaf of bread for home. It isn’t hard to see the pink tint to his checks the entire time you’re checking out, but you have a bit of mercy on him and only buy one more loaf of bread before waving goodbye and heading home. 

Maybe it’s because of how excited you are to spend a little extra time at Kornerstone Bakery with Myron (as if you had not been going down there every other day for the last two weeks under the pretense of just picking up snacks), but the day had finally come. 

You had spoken with Myron again while the bakery was slow the week prior about lending a hand now that you were settled into a rhythm with your job and life in your new town. The offer still stood for you to help out three days a month: the day before, the day of, and the day after a full moon. The first two would be easy, relatively, but the third was probably going to bring a lot of cranky werewolves to the door. 

Myron himself would likely be tired and wanted to focus instead on baking, seeing as it was usually their busiest day of the month. 

If everything went well enough you had even offered to help out more during their busier seasons and times, but there had been little discussion of that. Granted, that was more a slightly selfish attempt at getting closer to the curly haired baker. 

Over the last few visits to Kornerstone, you had quickly realized something in particular; if Myron wasn’t in Bakery Mode – as his uncle had put it – then he was an incredibly shy individual, more prone to hiding in the back flustered than shooting back any flirty remark. 

His uncle Jess had actually been there the second time that you visited and had borne witness to your attempts at flirting with a far too amused grin. The moment that Myron had stuttered out an excuse and gone off to hide in the back, leaving you standing there with a confused expression, he had been quick to approach. 

“Don’t take it personally,” he had told you, patting your shoulder sympathetically. “You didn’t do anything wrong; he just can’t handle someone as pretty as you flirtin’ with him. Poor thing went off to hide in the back before you could see just how close to a tomato his face can get.” 

You had given him an apologetic smile, hand hooked to the fabric of your top and thumbing at it worriedly. “I didn’t realize he’d react like that, wasn’t trying to make him uncomfortable, ya know?” 

“I doubt you did. I came to work the day after your first visit and had to listen to him gushing about this cute person who had been in the store, ‘fore his brother had shown up makin’ a right ass of himself.” 

Well, that had almost certainly been you. Given the mischievous glint in Jess's eyes and the way he would later try to get Myron alone with you each time following that visit, he knew for sure. 

Jess himself was nice enough. The bakery had been offered to him originally seeing as it was owned by his parents - Myron’s paternal grandparents whom you had yet to meet - but he didn’t want that responsibility. What he did want was to help out as he wished until he was sure Myron would be okay on his own, then move out to a larger ranch. He had certainly picked up the country accent during the years he had lived away from the state, and it was sticking around. It suited him though, you realized. 

But Jess wasn’t going to be there as a buffer for Myron to hide behind today, he was going to have to interact with you head-on while he showed you the ropes. After all, this was your training run, and you had been up far earlier than you had any business being in anticipation. Today was supposed to be a slow day, gearing up before tomorrow which would be the day prior to the full moon. A day most of the werewolf population started getting a bit antsy and everyone else seemed to catch a secondhand fever. 

And Myron, for his part, tried his best to keep as professional as he could when you showed up at the back door. The front of the store still dark with the blinds drawn. Daylight had yet to break, but it wouldn’t take long by now, with the first hints of the sun's rays already threatening to shine just over the tree line. 

“How long have you been here?” You had noticed immediately that you could already smell fresh bread and his apron was once more covered in flour until you couldn’t see the pattern. 

“An hour or two – I prep as much as I can after closing, and then while the first batches are baking I keep prepping for the rest of the day.” He waved you inside, shutting the door behind you in a half-graceful attempt at a sidestep. 

You said nothing about it, but it proved harder to bite back the amused smile on your lips. Having a little mercy first thing in the morning, you instead changed the subject to what you would be doing for the day. And it was simple enough. You had worked fast food before, and it was a simple POS system with all the prices and products preprogramed in. What was in warmed and sealed off display case was all the product they had, and if that ran out Myron could either give an estimate on a new batch or that was all. Though the latter really only applied to the cakes they sold – a different cake every day, and only one of each. If anyone gave you trouble then all you had to do was get Myron from the back, but he would likely be up there with you for much of the day. 

After all, it was supposed to be a painfully slow day. There were only so many times you could clean the same machines or mop the floors, do the dishes. And he had assured you that more often than not on shifts like this you would both be sitting in the little office (where he could see the door) or you could help him prep. 

But before the doors opened for the day, he had one more surprise for you, not that he had said it in as many words, losing his voice before he had gotten the sentiment across and motioned for you to sit. 

So, sit you do, at his awkward request. He motions for you to cover your eyes and with nothing more than a raised brow you comply. 

It takes a minute before you begin to realize what the surprise is, when the sweet scent of a cinnamon roll begins to grow closer. It becomes hard to hide your smile almost immediately, but you manage to keep yourself still just long enough – an impressive feat when you hear the clink of a plate against the table. 

“Okay, you can go ahead and look.” 

When you opened your eyes, you glanced up at Myron first, who flushes and looks away quickly from where he sits across from you with his own cinnamon roll. Yours is sat in front of you, steam still billowing off the sweet in plumes. Your grin was impossible to miss, and you knew that you were practically vibrating. 

“When we met you said you’d help out for cinnamon rolls – I'm still paying you – but I thought I could make us a batch to enjoy before work.” 

Your eyes lit up and you looked straight at him once more, “there’s more?” 

“I made a whole dozen just for us,” he assures, opting instead to dig into his own while his face burns red, trying instead to play it off or just ignore it. 

You take a moment, smiling at him and deciding on your next course of action before brushing aside teasing him for a moment. He still needed to have his wits enough to work for the day. “Thank you, Myron, this was really sweet of you.” 

Your sincerity still seems to turn the flush of his cheeks even redder and he only nods, shoving one more bite of his cinnamon roll into his mouth to avoid answering and stumbling over his words. 

The rest of the day goes by rather uneventfully, and it isn’t hard for the pair of you to fall into a a simple flow. With a hiccup here and there, that Myron is quick enough to dispel with little issue, the day is at a close faster than you can even realize. 

You’re in the middle of finishing taking stock of any items left when Myron steps up behind you almost silently. His ability to do so keeps surprising you and when he clears his throat to catch your attention you jump, spinning around on your heel in surprise. 

Myron apologizes, backing up for a moment. “I'm about to close up if you want to head home.” 

“You don’t want help after I finish this up?” 

He shakes his head, sliding the pages of inventory that you had set aside so far. “One of the other shop owners is going to stop by and grab whatever’s left and hand it out to anyone who needs it. I’m just gonna stay here and prep. But you’re going to want to go back home and get some rest, tomorrow this is really gonna pick up.” 

You nod, finishing up what you’re doing before bidding him farewell and heading out so you can once more make your way home. 

But on the way down the sidewalk you stop in your tracks, glancing over at the dim lights of a small bookshop you’ve passed regularly. 

Jess had mentioned it in passing, giving you a little nudge as he spoke, that Myron devoured books like he needed them to breathe. 

Swaying in place for a moment you almost continue your way before the thought gets the better of you and you’re turning right back around, making one small glance to the hours on the door just to ensure that they were open before slipping inside.  

It’s a quiet and rustic little shop, illuminated with dim, antique lamps along the walls and shelves. “One moment,” you hear an elderly woman calling from somewhere you’re unable to see. Only a heartbeat later she appears from around the corner with a warm smile. “How can I help you today?” 

You point your thumb behind you nervously. “I was just passing outside, and I wanted to stop in and see what you guys had in stock.” 

“A little something for yourself or someone else, dear?” 

You could feel the smile on your face before you even spoke. “A gift for someone else. Uh, Myron at the bakery is letting me help out a bit, so I was thinking about getting him something.” You shrug, slightly embarrassed at your admittance. “You know, for the upcoming full moon. I've heard they suck.” 

The older woman before you seems to have a knowing smile as she nods along, and the moment you finish it becomes clear why. “So, you’re the little thing that Jess was telling me about – he said you might stop by.” 

It feels like the tables turn when you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. 

“Do you know what you’re looking for or need some help?” 

It was then that you realized you had little information about what genre he would even be interested in, or what he did not already own – which was quite the collection from what you understood. “Some help, if you could. Yes, ma’am.” 

“Lucky you, Jess comes here to try and steal my homemade cookies, and that man tends to run his mouth over everything. He gossips more than my teenage grandchildren. Oh, and that sweet boy, Myron, he shops in here so much I already know what he has his eyes on.” She talks while wandering behind the counter. You can hear her shuffling items around before pulling a book and sliding it across for you to see. “It’s the next book in a series he reads, I hid it when I got it in waiting to see if you’d come inside – he likes buying his books in the store too much to order them online.” 

You run your finger along the spine, turning it over to skim over the summary, before you look over to the woman in front of you. She still sports a self-satisfied smile and a knowing look in her eyes. You thank her quietly, tucking the book close to your chest and fishing your form of payment out. Leaving the store in a mad dash, too embarrassed to stick around past your quick thanks. 

It won't be tomorrow that you give it to him, but it does seem like the perfect gift for the day after the full moon to pick his mood up. 

When you arrive at the bakery the next day the sight is almost enough to turn you right back home and go grab it, because Myron looks miserable when you walk through the door. You find him sitting in the dining area, arms crossed and head buried between them. 

Jess is diligently kneading the next batch of bread and glances up at you, only shaking his head before continuing with what he is doing. He himself isn’t looking too hot. 

You knew plenty of werewolves before, but you hadn’t really been close to any of them and as such had never really seen the effects a full moon had on them. It sucks, you don’t have to ask them, it’s clear as day on their face – and tomorrow is apparently supposed to be even worse. 

Slowly you make your way over to where Myron is resting, and he lifts his head to look up at your approach. Despite his lackluster state of being he still gives you a small smile and straightens up to greet you. Giving him a sympathetic smile, you take a seat across from him. “Morning sunshine.” 

He at least seems amused by it. “Morning, ready for your first real day?” 

“Ready as I think I can be.” 

He seems to brighten up just a minute before finally pushing himself to his feet, motioning you to follow. 

It becomes the start of what you can only define as a... tense two days. When you had been warned that most of the town was going to be crabbier than normal you hadn’t realized just what that entailed. Most got angry over the prices being the exact same thing they had always been and tried to bully you into a discount, thinking they could do so since you were little more than a new hire. 

Jess had stepped up to help you for a moment when one patron raised his voice and began to cuss, but you had only asked him to step back before you had turned right back around and ripped into the first werewolf that gave you an issue. Snapping back until you could imagine the man’s tail between his legs, he apologized. It seemed that nobody had expected such a response and even Myron had poked his head out as soon as he had heard the commotion begin. In stunned silence Jess had just nodded his head in approval and gone back to hiding in the back with his nephew. Better to leave you alone for the most part, despite what Myron had initially hoped – wanting to check in on you. But there was no call for concern, you took up the role easy enough and despite the slew of angry customers that tried to get their way, you handled all of them without real issue. 

Almost all of them. 

One woman in particular had stopped you in your tracks. She was pretty, sure, but the way she held up her nose at you and seemed to snap before you even had the chance to greet her had you barely suppressing a glare. “I want Myron to take my order, he always does it.” 

“He’s busy baking, but I would be more than happy to assist you.” it was probably the sweetest you had sounded all day, but it didn’t deter the woman before you. 

“Just go ask him, he’ll do it.” 

The dismissive tone in her voice had you clenching your teeth and narrowing your eyes. “No.” 

The words didn’t seem to register with her for a moment before she turned her full attention to you. “I told you to go get Myron.” 

“And I told you he was busy. I was brought on to assist during the full moon; today at Kornerstone Bakery you order with me or you step out of line and allow the people behind you to have their turn.” 

She seemed surprised for a moment before she laughed, a faux over-sugared laugh that grated your ears the moment it began. “Oh, you just don’t know who I am-” 

“I don’t care who you are,” you had snapped. You knew Myron didn’t have a partner, or sisters, and this woman certainly wasn’t his mother. Jess had told you all as much and let you know that none of their family stopped by the bakery on these days – more than happy to avoid the raging hormones. “Please order or I'm going to need to ask you once more to step out of line.” 

You might only be a human, but you could bet you were putting the werewolves of the town to shame for a moment with how you were growling out the words, tensing as you looked up at the taller woman. You were ready to pounce if push came to shove. 

Too busy staring the woman down – who was returning your look just as fiercely – you failed to register the quieted murmurs spreading through the line behind her. 

Noticing the questionable lull outside, both Jess and Myron stuck their heads out, before Myron just as quickly ducked further out of sight, hoping to go unnoticed. He would have headed all the way back, but the drive to keep an eye on you seemed to win out and he stayed put, barely noticing Jess petting his shoulder as he stepped out. 

“Abigale, always a pleasure to see you.” he offered, walking up next to you. 

She ignored his greeting entirely, skipping right back to her former demand. “I want Myron handling my order.” 

Jess only sighed and shook his head, motioning to you. “Our newest worker is perfectly capable of taking your order. Myron is busy.” 

You hold your tongue, but you can swear that if looks really could kill then woman before you would have dropped by now. 

She seems to coo at him before shaking her head. “I’m not moving and I'm not ordering until he comes to at least say hello like a gentleman.” 

Jess looks uncomfortable with the idea, and from the corner of your eye you can see Myron hiding, seeming to go pale at her words. Before the man before you has a chance to speak you interrupt; against you better judgment, this still isn’t your establishment. But this lady gives even you the creeps, and it’s painfully obvious neither of the men you work for wants to give in to her demands, though Jess looks about to fold just to get rid of her. “Move out of the line or I’m going to remove you myself.” 

That certainly draws everybody’s attention. 

“Excuse you?” 

“Leave.” Your tone holds no chance for argument, and you straighten up, looking her dead in the eyes as you cross your arms. “Myron has work to do, this establishment has money to make and people to serve, and you, ma’am,” you hiss, “are actively hindering those objectives.” If there was one thing that corporate email had at least bothered to teach you it was articulation. “So, once more, leave.” 

“You sure you’re gonna have a job after this little outburst, sweetheart?” 

“I am here because I wanted to be of assistance, this job or the lack of are in no way a determination of my living situation or a hinderance of my income.” You tilt your head down but hold your gaze, leveling her with a look your mother would weep in pride upon seeing. “I don’t know how they do business here normally, but I do not tolerate disrespect like this. And as I am the one taking orders, I am telling you now that your order is not going to be taken at this establishment. Not today. Remove yourself or I will do it for you.” 

You can feel the anxiety now, the way it seems to roll off of everyone else in the store. For a brief second you wonder if maybe you should have cared who she is – and then you recall the way Myron had shrunk back at her demand and any hesitance you might feel is squashed that very second. 

She watches you for a moment, weighing her options and eyes flashing, before she turns on her heels and slams her way back out the front door. 

“Should I actually be worried about that?’ you ask absentmindedly, still not looking up at Jess, you own eyes trained on the fleeting form of a woman you can only describe as having a tantrum in the street. 

“I wouldn’t suggest going outside during a full moon anytime soon at least,” he quips, leaning down next to you. “I probably should have warned you about that one, but we can talk more after shift is over.” 

You shake your head for a moment, tutting before turning to motion the next customer (they step forward carefully, like you’ll jump their throat for it). “Full moons; honestly.” 

You can hear the weary sigh that Jess heaves. “No, that’s just Abigale.” 

The rest of your shift seems to go by without incident, something you’re amazed at because now that it’s your official second day and the bakery was nearing closing everyone seemed to get worse with the dawning of the full moon drawing closer. There were quarrels between patrons, but a quick snap in their direction seemed enough to stop them – at least after someone exchanged a few hushed words with them. 

It was uneasy to say the least. 

Appreciated, in the sense that it made your job far easier, but it remained uneasy all the same. 

Once more, faster than you could realize, the last customer had wandered out the door and the bakery was closed down – earlier than normal given the events of tonight were already beginning to have their effect. 

Jess and Myron stood off to the side speaking in hushed voices while you wiped the counter down, and the moment that the curly haired baker glanced over at you in concern you could feel the pit drop in your stomach. With your little show earlier you well and truly might have just screwed over any chance you had with him, you realized. You stepped back and slouched, sighing in aggravation as quietly as you could with your body facing the tightly shut blinds and locked door. 

“Hey, you good?” 

To your surprise, it was Myron who had approached you – you had halfway been expecting Jess with a quick “sorry, but maybe just stick to being a customer” spiel. Instead, you winced before turning to face the man who had stepped up behind you. 

He still didn’t look the best, but you could certainly notice the way his features were beginning to change. His teeth seemed just a bit sharper, one fang beginning to poke out from his lip, with the hair on his arms becoming more prominent, joined by some new stubble, his ears having slowly become pointed over the hours. Most noticeably, his eyes almost seemed like they were glowing in the dim light of the lobby. 

But maybe it wasn’t the best time to ogle the man that was currently your boss when you very well might be getting fired. Blurting the first words out of your mouth you quickly curse your lack of a filter now that the day is done. “How badly did I fuck up with her?” 

He seemed taken aback by that before shaking his head. “I really did just want to check in with you first, I know today was a lot.” 

You hesitated in answering before leaning with your back against the display case. “It wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle with a few strict words, mostly, but going off what your uncle said earlier I feel like I might have a professional hit out on me now.” 

You could see the way his shoulders sagged. “Yeah, that was Abigale. She doesn’t really come in days near the full moon, much less on it, so I didn’t really think of warning you about her.” 

“So, what’s her deal?” 

He seemed to think for a moment, shifting until he leaned back against the display next to you, though he still kept his distance. “Ex girlfriend, actually.” 

“Jesus, what’d you do, cheat?” 

“No,” he huffed, “but she did. And I dumped her. But her dad is rich as hell and spoiled the life out of her, so she didn’t take me being the one breaking things off well at all.” He shrugged at the memory before closing his eyes and tilting his head back. “She has to be the one to decide when things end. So, she takes every chance she can to get near me, and nobody really stops her.” 

“Because daddy dearest always gets her what she wants? Including a get out of jail free card for any consequences she might face.” You hazard, looking over to him with a sympathetic glance. 

Myron doesn’t answer, but he doesn’t really need to. You know the answer. 

“So, on a scale of 1 to 10, how fired am I for basically telling her to fuck off?” 

This does work, and for the first time since meeting him you actually see him laugh. Really laugh, without trying to hide it. 

“You’re not fired, not even close. But I don’t think we’re opening the bakery tomorrow after all. I’m gonna take the day off before she tries to show up again.” He motions over to Jess, who is not so stealthily watching the pair of you from the office. “His idea, which also means he gets to handle closing.” 

You make a small sound of acknowledgment before furrowing your brows. “Oh.” 

This catches Myron’s attention, and he glances over to you. (Jess is leaning out of his chair to hear you too, but you both ignore the creaking sound.) 

Embarrassed at what you were going to admit you find yourself digging your hands back into your pockets, unable to meet his gaze any longer. “I was gonna bring you a gift tomorrow, but I guess now I have to wait to do that until the next time I visit.” 

Myron stares straight ahead as well, cheeks flushed red once more before he steals a glance and shuffles forwards. “You got me something?” 

He seems utterly amazed at the mere idea, and despite your disappointment at now needing to wait, you still find it endearing. 

“Well, I wanted to get something for my favorite werewolf.” 

“You’ve known me a little over two weeks.” 

“And yet you’re my favorite werewolf.” 

It’s Jess’s voice that breaks through next. “Take a compliment, kid!” 

Myron just shoots him an unimpressed look before glancing back over at you. 

It’s then you decide that the full moon has 1 major benefit – Myron seems a bit slower to run off the moment you fluster him, and you’re enjoying it. So instead, you choose to take advantage of that fact. “Well, maybe you could walk with me back to my place and I can give it to you tonight?” 

This however stops the poor man in his tracks immediately and you swear he almost chokes on air, playing it off as an itch in his throat as he motions that he is fine. He is, in fact, decidedly not fine. 

“Or I can just bring it by in a few days.” you offer, trying to salvage whatever was left of the conversation. You chance a look over to Jess but then man is far too busy laughing silently to himself to be of any use. 

It takes Myron a moment more before he finally manages to respond. “I wouldn’t mind. But I just- I.” he stops, hand at the back of his neck and groans, trying to force out the words he wants. It’s with one deep breath that they finally seems to line them up the way he wants, and starts again, slowly. “But with how late it is, I’d probably change forms soon even if I tried putting it off, so would you mind if I shifted before we started that way?” 

He looks nervous just asking, but it’s like wires clicking in your brain and you know that wolfed out Myron is something you absolutely need to see. As soon as possible. 

Managing to keep your cool (you don’t, but he’s too flustered to notice) you agree, offering to wait outside in the meantime. You don't need to ask to figure that he would likely be just as shy about transforming as he was about most other things, so this offer saves him from even having to ask. You don’t mind waiting for him as is. 

You really don’t mind waiting for him when you finally hear the click of the door and watch as a large wolf shimmies out and into the back lot, before standing to his full height. 

Myron is attractive enough in his human form. But his wolf form is downright stunning, and you’re certain it’s something you want the chance to see more of in the future. The base of his coat is a fluffy, soft cream or off white, dappled with light brown marks scattered across his body, faint enough they’re hard to see at first - you can only guess it’s how his freckles translate over. But what draws your eyes is the pale oranges that decorate his fur, blending seamlessly with the cream color; they adorn his snout, and his ears where they sit the brightest, they stretch from the top of his head all the way to his tail which you see swishing. The way his amber eyes really do look as though they’re glowing now. 

It's the swishing movement that finally breaks your trance and you feel a little flustered at being caught blatantly looking him over. You know you have because even in this form he is just as easy to read. Instead trying to break the tension you blurt the first thing that comes to your mind once more: “you’re like a lightly toasted marshmallow.” You snap your mouth shut with an audible clack of teeth on teeth the moment the words are past your lips and close your eyes, grimacing. But to your surprise you hear a deep rumble from Myron, the closest that he can get to laughing in this form – incapable of speech or exceedingly human sounds. 

Instead, he hunches down closer to your form before nodding for you to lead the way. 

You do so and start off on the already familiar path. Myron does his best to slow down so you can keep up with him, easily looming over you in this form, and it leaves you hurrying after him regardless. It isn’t an issue that really phases you, the extra time is worth the minor hiccup. You're so busy regaling him with one too many embarrassing stories to pay much attention to it anyways. But you do still notice the way that his eyes seem to wander over in the direction of the bookstore you had visited only a day prior. You can see the old woman behind the counter and when she catches sight of the two of you she gives you both a knowing look, returning to her own end of day tasks. 

You both hurry off after that instead of broaching the subject. But you can’t help the smile on your lips knowing what gift you have waiting for him. 

Thankfully the distance between the bookstore and your own humble rental isn’t a far one and you’re giddy the moment you see your home. The energy must be infectious, because Myron seems to lighten up, tail starting to pick of speed and ears perked as he watches you bound forward. Your door isn’t exactly made for a full-blown werewolf to waltz in through, so you tell him to wait for just a moment before you bound inside, heading straight for your room as you toss you bag to the side haphazardly. 

Grabbing the book off your nightstand and returning outside you find Myron sitting dutifully on your porch, head cocked to the side as he studies you and tries to catch an early glimpse of whatever you’re hiding behind your back. Instead, you step back, mischief written all over your face. “Close your eyes,” you mimic from days ago. He snorts but does as you ask, going so far as to cover his eyes with his hands. 

You take the brief moment to admire him once more before bringing the book in front of you both. “Okay, you can open your eyes now.” 

It takes him just a minute to register what he’s looking at, but you can practically hear the moment all the gears click into place. Physically it’s obvious. His eyes go wide, and he excitedly snatches the book away, trying to be as careful as he can while he thumbs through the pages. But the most obvious sign is his tail, going a hundred miles a minute and thumping repeatedly against the potted plant next to him. 

You’re almost concerned about him pushing it off. Before you can decide if you want to move it you’re shocked back with the feeling of something soft and cold pressed right to your cheek. It takes a moment before you realize Myron has shoved his cold snout right against you, nose first before all you feel is soft warm fur where he remains. 

You doubt he even notices, a slew of happy noises reverberating from him. You can barely see the book clutched tight against his chest and his tail still going just as fast. 

What he does notice however is you setting a hand against the crook of his jaw, burying your fingers into his fur. 

He rips back that moment, ears pinned, and you don’t need to guess how embarrassed he must feel, so you shift the subject back to the book. You had already been warned by Jess that touch was a rarity to receive from Myron, too painfully shy to ever initiate or indulge in it. 

“Hopefully you don’t already have that one, but I wanted to get you a gift.” 

And you hear it again immediately, the rhythmic thumping of his tail and he looks down at the book in his grasp before shaking his head, gaze soft. 

The sun is starting to go down and you know he’ll need to head back soon. You have a date planned with your bathtub after the day you’ve had. But it’s bittersweet to suggest he head out. So you don’t, not directly. 

“Do you want me to grab you a bag? So you can carry it back to your place.” 

He nods once before his gaze begins trailing excitedly over the cover once again. 

Leaving him enthralled with his newest edition you slip inside and grab a bag and a piece of loose string, before stepping outside once more. You motion for the book, which he reluctantly lets go of, and you tie the twine around it to keep it shut before slipping it inside the bag and handing it over. 

To your surprise, Myron sticks his head out and gingerly takes the handles of the bag between his teeth, shooting you one more grateful look before lumbering down into your yard. It’s a quick look back over his shoulder, his tail still wagging like a whirlwind, before he gives a low guttural howl and takes off back in the direction of town on all fours – leaving you laughing and calling out that you’ll see him soon as he vanishes. 

[prophet-rebellion]

..... Hey so i made another blog, this one is for monster lovers and fuckers and stories i write for them. First one up is my naga boy, Asante!

Naga x Reader

"First Meets"

Asante [Blue Beauty Rat Snake Naga Male]

Word Count: 6,118

Summary: You had been looking forward to this night all week, even with your nerves sitting wild in your stomach since the decision had been made – that you would finally get to meet “Vesper,” a guy you had befriended over the last year from a site that you been frequenting. Despite your excitement initially, your tune is changed at first when a coworker of yours finds you and becomes far too pushy, only for your knight in shining scales slithers in to save you. Thankfully Asante’s presence is a quick turn-around for your mood and you enjoy your night with him. 

------

Vesper, the screen name you had known him by for almost a year and a half now, had quickly become a staple in your life upon getting to know one another, having met over a digital tournament where he had consistently beat you by only a hair. Between both you and your opponent's competitive streak and cynical humor the chat had become a crackling trash fire in all the best ways. Fast enough it had led to a friend request, then to more 1-on-1 gaming sessions including voice calls instead of the prior text chats; leading itself to even more intense banter. 

Eventually the friendship jumped from the game to other messaging apps and blogging sites, continuing on a regular basis. Messages and phone calls going until one or both phone batteries finally died, and you were forced to stop, or your eyes betrayed you and fell shut. 

Either way, it became increasingly clear to all of your friends that you had certainly become enamored with “Vesper,” whose real name you still did not know – he had taken to joking that he would finally tell you the day that you two met in person. Something neither of you had spoken about, assuming the other lived too far away. After all, the chances you lived close enough to just visit one another were likely infinitesimal, or it felt as much, and neither of you seemed eager to get your hopes up. 

However, this did not stop the pair of you from talking most nights, with him even learning your name after a particular phone call had led to your slipping up in a half-awake state. You had forgotten about telling him until the next night when he called you by your name in another game and your heart seemed to stop for a moment. He had won that round, and you really could not bring yourself to be annoyed about it. 

You knew that you had feelings for Vesper, but you pushed them aside. Despite the teasing and borderline flirting that often transpired between the pair of you, you had never given any indications about your actual feelings. Too needy for physical affection and too scared that being honest could change your dynamic. There was just no need, at least as far as you disputed with your friends, who didn’t seem to believe your half-hearted defense. You had never even seen a picture of him, you had continued to argue, or had a video call – despite his offers, since you had always changed the subject, too nervous about actually seeing him. One of your best friends had only rolled their eyes and called you a coward before shoving you jokingly and acting as though they were counting down the days until something finally happened. 

You never say anything about this ongoing war with your friends to Vesper, but you tell him plenty else, just as he entrusts you with information about his life. Still, neither of you had given anything away that could lead to naming where one another lived, and were not pushing the other to divulge, content still to just be speaking together. 

And speak you were that night, listening to the coos of apology and snarky responses when you listed off something particularly egregious that had gone on that day or the way in which your managers had handled the situation. 

You worked in retail, and while usually your snappish comments or humorous recounting was the byproduct of a noteworthy customer and their absolute meltdown in the store, not this time. This was the effect that one of your coworkers tended to have on you when you were unable to avoid him. He had a nasty habit of overstepping boundaries and getting far too touchy in general. And despite the different ways that you had tried to get him to back off, you had been the one to be reprimanded while they had written his behaviors off as being harmless fun or accidents time and again. It was a side effect of being the owner's cousin, you had reasoned over the phone as you flung a pillow back against your headboard in agitation. 

“What did the manager say again when you told him?” 

“He just said that it was an accident and I needed to let it go!” you shouted, voice pitching, before face planting into your pillow next to you while your phone remained atop the nightstand on speaker. You didn’t need to lift your head to hear the snarl of anger from Vesper. 

“Flat out groping you for the third time this week alone, and everything else he does, doesn’t add up to an accident!” 

Vesper had a protective streak over all his friends, and that certainly included you, something you could appreciate. You could hear the drumming of his fingers against his desk – a regular habit of his when he got worked up - and the sound of almost a growl on the other end of the phone before you finally lifted your head back up. “If it’s anything, I at least had a pick me up on my way home.” 

Vesper had to take a moment to compose himself and you could hear the shift before he finally spoke again, tone changed to try and pry a laugh out of you. “My wonderful self?” he drawled out. 

You could only chuckle, easily imagining him stretched out with a self-satisfied smirk on his face and his feet kicked up. Not that you could really know, but you felt you had a well enough idea of him to imagine how he acted. “Not this time.” Your next words were cut off by the over-dramatized gasp from Vesper, leaving you to laugh, at least a little. “On my way home there’s this little pet shop, and they have these little cats along the bottom of the window like a parade – but somebody went in and drew little wizard outfits on every. Single. One.” you chimed, starting to crack another smile at the thought. “I mean, I feel a little bad because they’re all in marker and that has got to suck to clean up, but for some reason when I saw them, I just started breaking down laughing. They were so cute.” 

Vesper was quiet for a moment before he asked if you had taken a picture of any of the little kitties. 

More than elated at getting to share them you chimed yes, pulling your phone back over to you and sending a slew of photos of the wizard kitty parade – double checking that none of them had your face reflected in the shop window them before sending. You were still talking about your favorite ones as Vesper hummed in response, until you realized he was being suspiciously quiet. “Ves?” 

He seemed to stumble over his words before you heard a sharp intake of breath. “This is gonna sound a little weird, but is this,” he heaved a sigh once more, seeming to rethink his words, “okay, is this Katey’s Kitty Pet Shop? On 4th Ave.” 

You froze for a moment at hearing the name of the shop. Glancing at your phone for a moment you had to think; to answer truthfully or lie out your teeth. Even if Vesper knew you were lying, you trusted him not to pressure you any further about it. But he knew, he really did already know, and it didn’t feel worth it to try and deny as much. Besides, a small part of your brain was sending up fireworks that maybe he had been closer this last year and a half than you had ever let yourself think. 

Before you could finalize your thoughts, you were brought back by the voice on your phone, with Vesper now trying to change the subject, figuring you were uncomfortable with him mentioning it. 

“I’m sure it’s not, sorry” he chuckled, though you heard through the awkwardness of it immediately. 

After one more beat of silence you finally responded, getting your mouth to move the way that you wanted. “Yeah, that's the shop name. There’s that, uh, ya know, coffeeshop two doors down called New Beanland.” 

Vesper lost it laughing at the mention. “Yeah! Oh, so, I’ve never been inside myself, but it seems like they have enough business, so I guess it’s good?” 

“Hey,” you snark at him, “that happens to be my favorite coffeeshop, thank you very much.” 

“You always get a London fog; I feel like that’s a low bar to judge by” 

“It isn’t! Besides, it’s just funnier to get it there because of the name. Also they’re cheaper,” you reason, rolling over onto your back and moving the phone onto the pillow, right next to your head with a small smile on your face. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll give that one to you.” He relented, and once again it was easy to imagine him holding his arms up in defeat. 

For a moment everything fell silent before you hazarded asked another question. “So, I guess you go by the pet shop regularly?” 

“My sister loves that place, and she drags me out there as many times as she can.” he groans. 

You know it’s half-hearted, having heard him doting over his young sister plenty of times in the background of other calls or just talking about her accomplishments in general. 

A few more back and fourths were discussed about the pet shop and the very sad looking cat in the window – which Vesper had been forced to deny his sister adopting more than once due to their own cats. But from there the conversation moved on just as naturally as anything else until finally you were bent over on your side in the fetal position, tears pricking the corner of your eyes as you struggled to breathe through the intense waves laughter that wracked your body. It took another minute or two before you finally managed to calm down, eyes still closed as a few ripples of laughter occasionally broke the slowly calming atmosphere. 

As you had gone quieter you could hear the humming tone of Vesper on the other end, like he was trying to decide on his next words or was just a tad too unsure of himself to voice them. “What’s on your mind, Ves Man?” 

He snorted at the name. “I’m gonna ignore that.” He had to have sat forward because you could hear the creaking of the chair or his bed under his weight as he shifted. “I was wondering something, but I don’t want to push all this too far.” 

Your interest piqued you sat back up, head propped up on your hand. “You know you can’t tease me like that,” you chirped, prodding him into spilling. 

“I was wondering if I’ve ever seen you before while I was at the pet shop or something. Like if we were just right next to each other and I didn’t even know it.” He stopped for a moment more, fingers back to tapping out a made-up tune against the desk. “I was also thinking about us maybe getting to meet up finally. But I get figure that you’d be hesitant about doing that.” 

“Aren’t you nervous about the idea of meeting up?” 

“I mean sure, but it’s been more than a year and a half, and I’d like to put a face with the name – more than just your profile pic,” he mused. 

You bit your bottom lip, chewing at it while you mulled the thought over. You wanted to say that you needed more time to think about it, but you had been considering the same thing, and had for some time. “I’d like to finally meet up.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke, but thankfully Vesper had picked up on it, you knew because you could hear the excited smile in his tone as he next excitedly spoke. And then you realized it, you could no longer make out his words, a lulling slur to everything he said, prompting you to finally check the time. Your surprised laugh was what stopped his rambling on about what you could only assume were meeting ideas. “Vessie, Ves, my main man, my soulmate,” you teased, enjoying the quiet sound of laughing from your phone, “look at the time.” 

“Oh, woah – it is way later than I thought.” 

“And you’re more tired than I think you realize,” you asserted, prompting him towards the idea that it was time for him to sleep. 

He sighed, but did not argue it any further, “yeah, you’re right, you’re right. But you need sleep too. Don’t you have an opening shift tomorrow?” 

You winced at the thought before groaning, knowing that he was right. “Talk about it more tomorrow?” 

There was that same excited smile in his voice as he answered, having obviously leaned even further to the phone. “Absolutely. G’night.” 

“And good morning,” you chimed, finishing a sentence you both often threw at each other due to your different sleep schedules – tending to miss the other when either one of you would wake up. 

That conversation had been a month ago by this point, and you were more than excited that this evening was when you were supposed to meet with Vesper, who you had jokingly reminded was finally going to have to tell you his real name. He had offered to tell you beforehand, but you had instead decided the pair of you could take a selfie when you got there, and you would send that and his real name along to one of your best friends (who was more than excited for you as well, be demanding to know you were, well, not getting murdered). You were a bit more comfortable with the idea of meeting up alone given you knew all the cameras in front of the theaters and how well lit the area was, along with the regular foot traffic. And the two of you had planned to meet right in front of one of the best placed cameras that you knew of. As excited as you were, and as much as you wanted to draw out the mystery, you also wanted to be a bit smart about it, something Vesper still inclined you to be on a regular basis, even with this. 

And while he knew your first name, he still did not know what you looked like; you had at least shown him the majority of the outfit that you had planned to wear for your first meeting, so that he would be able to recognize you in the crowd. 

Now you were practically flying past the other people who dotted the streets, wind rushing past and bright colors flashing in your peripheral from all the lights and decorations that lined the late autumn streets and stores. Some at least had the decency to string out a few pieces of Thanksgiving décor given the holiday had yet to pass, but most stores were already sporting Christmas looks, not that any of that mattered as you hurried on your way. 

Your nerves were going haywire in your stomach, and you almost worried that if you stopped moving you might be sick – though that sounded much worse than it was. So focused on your nerves and on making it to your designated meeting spot, which you could finally see, you failed to hear someone calling your name. It wasn’t until that person had wrapped a tight hand around your arm and ripped you from your course that you were broken from your tunnel vision mission. Dizzy at the rough behavior you finally managed to look up at whomever had stopped you, your stomach dropping the moment that you realized it was your coworker. 

Of all the days that you wanted to see him, which was never, this was the worst of all times. 

The grin on his face was unnerving, and just added to the discomfort you felt as he spoke. “I was trying to get your attention.” 

You froze for a moment before managing to straighten yourself up, but found you were unable to pry your arm away. Instead, you flashed a quick smile, trying to be as nice as you could thanks to the creeping anxiety stopping you from being as rude as you would really prefer to be. “Yeah, I’m meeting someone actually, so I’m kind of distracted.” You tried pulling away once more but your words seemed to have just annoyed your coworker instead, who used his vice grip to pull you even closer to him. 

The stench of his breath was too close, and you could not help the way that your face skewed up in disgust before you noticed he was watching you and it prompted you to shift your expression to something passing as neutral. “Look, I really need to look out for who I’m meeting with, he should be here soon, so I’ve gotta get a move on.” 

“Just trying to get away from me?” he sneered, glancing around to see nobody paying any attention to the pair of you. “Because I don’t see anyone headed over here for you.” 

“He -” 

“I got reamed out because of you,” he cut you off, glowering from the side of his eye, his head still turned away while he looked around. 

A lie, you knew, as he had gotten less than a slap on the wrist. 

Finally, his attention shifted back to you fully. 

“Well then maybe you should have kept your hands off of her,” a deeper voice growled from behind you. You recognized it immediately, but before you could turn around and see him, or even speak, you coworker had gotten a single look at the man before shoving you away like you had burned him, sending you crashing roughly into the chest of who you knew must be Vesper. 

Unable to catch your balance on your own, you worried you might slip past and fall, until you were steadied by a solid arm wrapped securely around your shoulders. This kept you firmly planted with your back against his chest. And as much as you wanted to finally look up at Vesper, the way that your coworker was watching the both of you left you on edge enough that you did not feel safe taking your eyes away from him. 

Finally, your coworker looked up at Vesper and seemed to try and calm himself down, to make himself seem far more respectable than the rat he was. “It was just an accident.” 

Vesper didn’t even dignify your coworker’s blatant lie with a response, only giving a guttural warning noise. 

Your coworker, never the wisest man, opened his mouth to speak; but you could feel the way that Vesper straightened up, only able to imagine the look on his face as you watched your coworker shrink back and shut up. Apparently feeling as though it was no longer worth his time – and knowing this was a fight he was unlikely to win if it came to it – your coworker only waved you both off with a muffled cuss and turned tail, scurrying off the way that he had originally been headed. 

Still, you both waited, not allowing yourself to break your gaze until you finally watched him turn the corner, seeing him shoot you one more dirty look before vanishing. 

“He really is a greasy little bastard, isn’t he?” Vesper finally spoke. 

At the sound of his voice you finally allowed yourself to relax, shoulders dropping and head falling back against his chest where you could finally see his face. Despite the prior confrontation, when you finally made eye contact with Vesper, looking at you with the softest smile you could imagine, it was hard not to return the look immediately.  

You stayed silent for a moment, just taking in the man in front of you, from the crinkle of his eyes to the little patch of blue skin on the outer corner of each, which caught your attention before you were finally pulling away to get a proper look at him. 

It was then that you cracked up laughing until you were doubled over once again in a fit, as he often left you on calls. 

Utterly confused, he could only cock his head at you like a puppy, leaving one arm out for you to keep your balance. 

And finally, finally, you looked up at him with a cheshire grin. “He’s terrified of snakes,” you mused. The man in front of you, who you had automatically assumed to be human without meaning to, followed suit and began laughing as well. The naga man in front of you. 

The two of you shuffled against the wall between fits of laughter, realizing the odd looks that other passersby were shooting you and trying to stop anyone from stepping on or tripping over any part of Vesper’s long tail. Instead, he curled it around the both of you as you brushed aside the looks of others and tried to calm yourselves, only for the laughing to continue when one of you would risk looking at the other and crack all over again. 

After what felt like an eternity, but had only been about 15 minutes, the two of you finally caught your breath and calmed. 

Vesper was the first to speak. “Still need to send that picture to your friend, right?” 

You made a surprised noise, remembering the promise you had made to your friend before this night had begun. With little effort you pulled your phone out before handing it over to Vesper instead, who seemed to smugly understand that you wanted the taller of you two to take the photo. This led to him using his tail to push himself further upward until he could rest his arm on your head. Quickly enough though, he returned to his prior position, letting himself drape over you, before you moved one of his arms back around your shoulders and kept your hands there, smiling up at the camera along with him. 

Happy with the photo you made a ‘gimmie’ motion with your hands and he happily complied, relinquishing the device back to you. Appeasing himself instead by propping his head onto your shoulder and watching as you typed up your message. He said nothing until you started typing Vesper, causing you to jump when his voice rumbled out right next to your ear. 

“Asante.” 

You hummed in confusion, tilting your head to look over at him in question. 

“You’re using my screenname again, but my name is Asante.” 

You made a small noise to acknowledge what he said, looking back to your phone as you flustered from the way he had made himself comfortable, cheek to your shoulder as he looked up at you and spoke, his eyes never seeming to leave your face after he stopped. Quickly you sent off the text and slipped your phone away once more, knowing that you would be getting a barrage of messages as soon as it was seen. And for the moment you preferred to be focused on Asante. 

Initially you had thought it might take you much longer to warm up and be touchy with the man you were meeting, but it felt just as comfortable to be right on top of one another, as though you had both been doing it for far longer. 

Instead, you just closed your eyes and hummed, letting your head knock against his and stifling a laugh at his short whine in retaliation, not that he even bothered trying to move away from you. “You know how I was supposed to come up with something to do after we met up?” 

Asante groaned with a silent laugh as his arms dropped away and he pulled back just far enough to raise a brow at you with an exasperated expression. “You didn’t come up with anything?” 

“I was so nervous I thought I was gonna be sick, or like, chicken out,” you whined, bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. 

Asante only rolled his eyes affectionately before prying one of your hands away and nudging you to look at him. “But” he drawled out teasingly, “you’re here.” 

You smiled back, unable to stop yourself from preening under his fond expression. “Yeah, I’m here.” 

“Any ideas then?” 

“How about you pick this time?” 

Asante broke into a wide grin, and you noticed once again the way that the corner of his eyes crinkled and seemed to light up the moment he did. “So, there’s gonna be a next time?” 

“I mean, I hope so, after talking for as long as we have.” 

Asante nodded his head, motioning further down the street. “There’s a sandwich shop on the corner, they just have a window to pick it up from – we can order there or online. And there’s a park just a bit further down. We could go and eat at the park and just talk for a bit.” 

You swayed in place for a moment before agreeing, nudging him forward as you stepped over the coils of his tail around you. Asante said nothing as he watched you to ensure your balance, moving his tail out of the way before taking his place beside you, allowing the two of you to make your way in the direction of the sandwich shop. 

Conversation flowed easily between the two of you and things turned quickly to banter and playful jabbing. You even managed to find a soft spot on his side that had him coiling away and laughing, mentally noting the fact that he was apparently ticklish for a later. It was something he must have realized judging on the warning look he seems to give you, not that it does anything to deter you and you both know as much. 

He’ll find something of note about you eventually, if he had not already, but you find that you don’t mind as much. 

It takes a bit longer to get to the burger joint due to your fooling around, but you do manage it and get your food before making off to the park, still joking the entire way (and stealing more than a few fries from his tray – though you know he’s freely allowing you to do so). 

The spot that the two of you pick is a bit more secluded, but you can still see a few couples and families wandering about the park in the fading autumn light. The nip in the air is only growing more noticeable in the later hour, but it isn’t too bad for you yet. Carefully you glance up at Asante, who you notice is shivering despite his hoodie. So, you slip off your jacket and hold it out to him silently as he munches away at his fries. 

Asante raises a brow as he looks at you, and you only shove the jacket further to him. 

“You’re shivering,” you comment, shaking the jacket in your hands. 

“I’m wearing a hoodie,” he defends. 

“Does it count when it has a titty window, slut?!” you exclaim, laughing as Asante almost immediately bends over, nearly choking while he tries to stop himself from laughing. 

“It counts,” he growls, though his smile is a dead giveaway as he sneaks an arm around you instead to pull you near him, tail curling around the pair of you securely where you both sit on the cold ground. 

You try wiggling out half-heartedly, but Asante keeps his hold on you, humming as he props his head on your shoulder once more, food abandoned by the both of you for the moment. 

“I think this works pretty good for keeping me warm,” he murmurs, going slack and making himself comfortable. Admittedly enjoying the warmth that is radiating off of you. 

“Asante are you just going to fall asleep on me?” 

“You can have my fries if I do,” he assures, voice steadily lulling out, though he tries to fight the overtake of sleep – just unwilling to pull away from you at the moment. 

You could only shake your head, placing your hand on his shoulder and nudging him back awake, though you could do little to convince him to move. “You can’t fall asleep on me in the middle of a park, especially if it starts getting colder.” Knowing he was a Naga certainly meant you had more concerns about being out so late in the autumn, but he seemed far less worried about any risks. 

Asante groaned, reluctantly pulling away before he really did fall asleep. Though that did not stop him from pouting, which he could see from the corner of his eyes was at the least causing you to smile and roll your own. 

“You big baby,” you chide, handing over your own fries to try and get him to drop the act. 

It works well enough, and he reaches over to accept the offering from you. “Is it my fault if you’re just the perfect heated pillow,” he asked, gesturing towards you in your entirety. 

The comment is enough to fluster you, causing you to look away before shaking your head and dismissing it for a moment; but Asante had caught your reaction and was left grinning, fully ready to abuse this information. 

He would hold off for now, not wanting to push boundaries too far in your first real meeting, but it was fun all the same to know. Still, having heard your expressed concerns he knew he likely had that same soft look on his face that he probably had prior in the evening (and as his sister had said earlier in the day upon seeing, made him look like a love-struck puppy and a bit dumb, which he had happily agreed to before hanging up). “You’re still worried about me being cold?” 

“Well yeah,” you chime, shoving another fry in your mouth, sandwich having been well and finished off by this point. 

Asante motioned you closer, and when you complied, he pulled you flush against his side. 

You let him, making sure that he wasn’t about to fall asleep eating, before relaxing against him and dumping the last few of your fries into his own container; Asante took your to-go box and set it under his own before the wind could blow it away. You closed your eyes and moved his arm, blocking out the cold from attacking your nose by burying it in the crook of his elbow. This thankfully didn’t impede Asante’s ability to hear you. 

The conversations that the two of you found yourselves having jumped around from topic to topic, falling into familiarity. And after Asante finishes his food, he realizes how quiet you had gone, instead opting to absently trailing a finger over his tail and looking over his pattern. He almost wants to tease and ask you what you’re doing but decides against it. 

You, for your own part, don’t realize how long you have been quiet, admiring the pattern of his tail. While you can’t see how the scales fade or taper off on his torso because of the black hoodie and fishnet, along with the wrapped fabric just under that – not that you mind – there is plenty else to keep your attention. A beautiful blue-gray color broken up by black spots decorates the upper portion of his tail, but as your eyesight trails down you see the splattering pattern of white stripes that take over, stark against the lowest portion of his tail as it sits over almost black scales. You have an idea of what to expect snakeskin to feel like, so it doesn’t catch you off guard. But because Asante is still wiggling in place, not that the fact really registers with you for the moment, you catch sight of the muscle rippling right under the surface. You’re still brushing a hand against his tail gently, completely enraptured with it before he finally places one hand over your own, silently amused at the way you jump and look up to him with wide eyes. 

“Having fun?” 

You shrink for a moment in embarrassment, but Asante does not seem keen to let you do that, intertwining his fingers with yours while his hand continues to rest atop your own. “I don’t mind it,” he assures, tail tightening around the two of you. “Well, I don’t mind you touching my tail at least.” 

The significance of his comment it not lost on you, but you say nothing, just curling further into him and getting comfortable, unwilling to remove your hand from his and still thumbing circles against the side of his tail as the two of you continue talking, despite the darkness finally starting to settle in overhead like an inky blanket. 

Unfortunately, this means the chill of the air only grows colder, and it can no longer be ignored by either of you when another passes. So reluctantly you both begin packing up, with you stealthily snatching away the trash and running it over to throw it away before he can try and stop you, insisting that you he can be a gentleman at least. He has that small pout once more on his face, but it drops just as fast when you knock your shoulder against his own, fingers brushing just slightly against the skin of his tail. 

Admittedly you both seem to be dragging your feet, even though you can just as easily call one another when you have to split ways for the night. But it isn’t the same, and after a year and a half of thinking this would not be possible, you were milking this time for everything you could. 

You can wholeheartedly admit that time is now your enemy, and if it could be bothered to stand still for a little while you might be willing to forgive it. Just to buy a little more time here in this moment with Asante. 

Seemingly having noticed you lost in thought he tilts your face toward him for a moment. “Are you okay?” 

“Is it too much to say I wish we could stick around a bit longer?” 

Asante shrugs. “Is it too much to say I wish I didn’t have to go home alone tonight,” he quips, mimicking your words. His comment works and you flush once more, shaking your head before he allows you to pull him into a hug. 

“We’ll have to figure something out to spend some more time together next time.” 

Asante, more than comfortable sapping your heat away and curling into you, hums in response before pulling back to look you in the eye. “Maybe next time could be a date?” 

The way your face lights up is mirrored in his own and you more than happily agree. “I think we could make that work.” 

A weight seemed to drop from his chest as he lets out a relieved sigh. “Good, because I've wanted to take you on a date for a while now, and tonight really cemented that” he admits. 

“How long?” you asked, genuinely curious. 

“Tell you next time,” he promises, placing a chaste kiss on your lip before pulling away and nudging you forward to the exit of the park. He notices the way you freeze for a moment but go soft at the action “But at least let me walk you back to where we met earlier, I want to make sure you’re okay.” 

“I can call you after we split, if you want. I wouldn’t mind talking still.” 

He seems to think about it for a moment but inevitably agrees. “Deal, but you have to sleep as soon as you’re safe in the door, you still have work tomorrow. "Which, if that coworker gives you any more trouble, I have no issues showing up and making him uncomfortable,” he assures. 

“You know, it still surprises me how protective you can get. You seem so shy sometimes.” 

“I was when I was younger, like hide behind my mom or run-away levels of shy. And then I made friends with people even shier than me and I just kind of stepped into the role. Also, my sister. Also her. She just gets into so much trouble,” he says, completely exasperated. 

It has you laughing once more but you say little else, “I’ll let you know if he’s an ass anymore.” You appreciate his promises of security all the same and you’re more than happy to enjoy the comfort of the silence that settles into place around the two of you as you make your way back to where you had originally met those few hours earlier.