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purplecoffee13 · 6 months ago

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The Silent Type*

Summary: “Harry, the quiet guy in the office, has silently admired you during your time working for the firm. Now that your work there is done, Harry finds that he can’t let you go just yet…”

Wc: 5k

Tropes: colleagues (ceorry/nerdrry)

Warnings: SMUT, overstimulation, daddy kink, switch sub/dom dynamics, oral, choking

A/N: SUP Y’ALL!!!! God I have just been waiting to be able to write again! I still have some exams coming up next week, but I spent all evening writing this one shot because I have been dying to get back into it😋 This is my first time writing a more subrry tinted fic, so I hope you enjoy it!

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Harry has never been one to talk much.

It is one of the reasons why he chose the career of software developing. Most of it, he could do on his own.

It wasn't so much that Harry hated people, he just preferred his own company. More people tend to complicate things, and Harry is a more logical guy.

That was until he met you.

About three months ago, the company for which Harry worked had started their expansion, and he was to lead the people transferred to that section of the firm. With the expansion also came new employees, and that’s where you came in.

You had been temporarily hired by the company to weed out applicants, and assist the current HR manager to help with the job interviews.

Harry still remembers that first day when you walked into the office, all nervous and fidgety. He had spotted you through the glass walls of his office, and couldn't physically tear his eyes off of you.

It wasn't until your third day helping in the office, that you actually met Harry. You had no idea what to think of him. Well, besides the obvious, of course. He was ridiculously handsome, and from the way he was staring at you, you figured that maybe he was thinking something like that about you too.

But he didn't talk.

Your first time meeting consisted of nothing but a gruff 'nice to meet you' from Harry's side, and no input in the rest of the conversation whatsoever. It was only a couple days later, when you asked the HR manager about it, that you found out that's just how he was, that he didn't really talk to anyone. From that moment on, there had been a surge of motivation to let him make you the one exception.

Harry was just fascinated by you, and he had no idea why. You were a ball of energy, talking so fast you'd think someone had clicked on your 'sped up' button, and you were chaotic, all over the place. The amount of times he watched you bump into people was impossible to keep count of.

Then, one day, you bumped into him. It should have angered him, the spilt coffee on his pants. But he had an extra suit, and you looked so worried, he didn't want to make you feel worse. You still felt bad, though, so you decided to make it up to him, and started getting him coffee every morning.

By the end of the first week, he looked you in the eyes when he thanked you. By the end of the fourth, he'd ask you how you are and recall things you'd told him. By the end of sixth, he told you things about his life, and by the end of the tenth week, you were having longer conversations with him.

It was difficult to keep up the small talk with him in the beginning. You soon found out that his lone wolf attitude may had something to do with his awkwardness. You thought, perhaps people weren't willing to work through that, and eventually he just stopped trying.

Such a prospect made you sad, and it only motivated you more to get to know him better. Of course, the longing glances, and standing unnecessarily close to each other with his knuckles barely touching your arm, those things helped too.

There was an undeniable tension between the two of you that you found incredibly difficult to decipher. The way he'd let you catch him looking at you gave it away quite clearly, but the lack of any real initiative confused you.

Had you read it all wrong? Did he even think there was something there too?

Unfortunately, there was no way to find out, as your assignment at the company was coming to an end. Today had been your last day, and tonight is a launch party to officially celebrate the expansion of the company.

You were a little sad to leave the company, especially since you really liked the people working there. It is why you are most excited for tonight.

Wearing a long yellow dress—it is your favorite color—you stride into the building. You are mesmerized by all the balloons and how pretty everyone looks. Wearing expensive suits or classy dresses. You immediately realize you might be a bit too happily dressed; everyone is wearing darker colors.

It does make it easy for everyone to spot you, though. By the time you've gotten your drink, five people have already walked up to you. About half an hour into the party, the CEO of the company takes the stage to give a small speech.

"I would like to thank everyone who has participated in making this expansion go as smoothly as it did. Your work does not go unnoticed." He says through the microphone. Everyone claps for a few seconds, and the man waits to go on until it is quiet again.

"Now, I have a special announcement to make. I have wanted to make this expansion happen since I began working for this company in 1988. Now that I finally have, I feel that my job at this firm is done. And so, I have decided to retire from my position as CEO."

Your eyes widen at the speech; you had no idea this was even a thing. By the sound of the gasps and murmurs traveling through the room, you deduce that the news is unexpected for the rest of the company as well.

"It is also with great pride that I present the new CEO of our company, chosen after careful consideration. If mr. Harry Styles could please join me on stage."

Your mouth falls open at the mention of Harry's name, and you are certain you will never be able to close it again when you see him walking onto the stage. He wears a black suit, perfectly tailored to his body, and the sight of him has you concerned that you may be drooling.

The bald man hands the microphone to Harry, who does not look very pleased to be on stage; it almost seems like he is regretting his decisions. Until his eyes meet yours, that is when you see him let out a breath.

"Thank you, Mr. Johnson." He says, breaking eye contact to look at his former boss.

Right, that was his name, Johnson.

"I look forward to leading this company into more successes, and I promise that I will put my heart and soul into it. I have worked at this firm ever since I graduated college and they offered me a job during my internship, and it is safe to say that I have not regretted that decision a day of my life. I have always been loyal to this company, and I will remain loyal to you. Thank you."

You are perplexed. Why did he never tell you about this? You are very happy for him, but you do find it weird. It also makes you doubt again. Did whatever you had been building up the last months not mean as much to Harry as it did to you?

Well, it doesn't really matter, you're gone after tonight anyway.

Once the shock of the news has calmed down a bit, the party resumes as normal. Most people visit Harry one by one to congratulate him on the position, but you steer clear from him. It is no use, after tonight you will probably never see him again anyway.

Time passes, and you think you're ready to go home. There was a file in the office you forgot to sign earlier today, so you head up to do that first. The office is entirely dark when you walk out of the elevator. It's kind of eerie, so you are quick to turn on the lights.

It takes you a few minutes to find the file, since the receptionist placed it on someone else's desk. You find it on your colleague's desk, and walk over to the receptionist desk to sign it. Laying it on the keyboard of her computer, you pray that she won't displace it again, and make your way back to the elevators.

A loud shriek escapes you when Harry suddenly walks around the corner. He covers his ears at the high pitched sound, shocked by how much he scared you. With your hand on your chest you try and steady your breathing.

"Jesus, you scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, didn't mean to." He says, a bit of worry in his tone. You look up at him.

"What are you even doing up here?"

"I was looking for you." He shrugs.

"Why?" Your eyebrows furrow, that same old tension in your stomach settling like it does every time Harry looks at you for longer than two seconds.

"You've been avoiding me." He answers casually, and you feel your heart drop. You didn't think he'd catch onto it.

"Congratulations by the way, for being the CEO. That was definitely a surprise." There is a bitterness in your tone. It is Harry's turn to frown. He hears the condescension, but his mind can't seem to come to a conclusion. Why are you angry? It's so hard to tell.

This is why he doesn't do people.

"You're mad that I am CEO?" He guesses, and your mouth falls open, much like it did when Harry's new position got announced.

"What?! Of course not! I'm very happy for you." You sputter out. The last thing you'd want him to think is that you don't want him to be happy or satisfied or successful.

"But you're still avoiding me." He repeats slowly. "You know, I didn't tell you about it because no one was supposed to know. I had to sign for it and everything. It's nothing personal."

The painful grip that his potential distrust in you had on your heart releases at the sound of his words. You could have known that it was due to something like that, you work in HR after all. That fact alone makes you realize how invested you unknowingly had become in Harry.

"I...I figured." You give him a weak smile. Harry's eyes search for yours, holding onto your gaze once he has found it. You stay like that, staring at each other for a while until you break the silence.

"I'm heading home. I don't think I'll see you again, so good luck. I'm sure you'll do wonderfully."

With much difficulty, you manage to look away from Harry and walk past him. At least, you try to, because halfway through, Harry's hand grabs your arm. You stop in your tracks, looking back at the man who stopped you. The man who has been sending you mixed signals for the past few months.

"D– do you want to join me in my office?"

You refrain from the shiver that threatens to run down your entire body, and nod. Harry's hand slides down your arm to your hand, and he intertwines his fingers with yours before he leads you to the glass doors that belong to him. On your way there, he flicks off the lights, leaving the two of you in the dark.

The city lights light up the otherwise pitch dark office that belongs to Harry, for now. He will be moved to the CEO's office when he starts his new position.

You don't say anything as Harry closes the door, or as he walks to the closet and pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. You wait in anticipation of what he's going to do.

But then he sits down. He just sits down on his chair.

You stand there, staring at him, utterly confused about this man and his intentions with you, while he obliviously pours the whiskey into the glasses. In that moment, there is a switch inside of you, one that says: fuck it. This is your last day, you need a way to release this pent up tension, and you probably won't see him ever again after this. What have you got to lose? Nothing.

You walk over to the desk and sit down on it, extremely close to Harry. The split of your dress shows your bare, freshly shaved leg, and he seems to notice. His eyes pull to your legs like magnets, and he has to force himself to look you in the eyes as he hands you the glass of whiskey.

You try your best not to smirk at the effectiveness of your plan, focusing on your next move instead. Straight for the kill.

"So, why am I here, Harry?" You ask nonchalantly, taking a sip of your whiskey. It tastes quite strong, and it takes you a lot of effort not to have an expressive reaction to it.

"What?" He asks, eyes wide like a deer in headlights.

"Why'd you take me here?" You ask again, setting down your glass at the table before moving to stand in front of him. "To admire the view?"

Harry looks out the window, but his head shoots back to you when he notices you're sinking onto your knees in front of him. He thinks he may have forgotten to breathe as he observes the lustful look in your eyes. His eyes travel down to your tits, even more visible from this angle.

"Because I've admired it every day for the past three months." You continue. Harry swallows, frozen by the overload of his brain and the sensitivity of the growing constraint in these pants. "Why don't you take your pants off for me? Just enough to give me your cock. I like you in this suit."

Harry doesn't let another second fly by before he is unbuckling his pants, sliding it down just enough for you to have access to his cock and his balls. Your mouth waters at the size and girth of it, your cunt getting wetter with every passing moment.

You shimmy forward, leaning over his cock and grabbing it with your hand. Harry sighs at the minimal contact, making you feel even more powerful. Looking up at him through your lashes, you ask him one more question.

"You'll hold my hair, won't you?"

With that, you take Harry in your mouth as far as you can, before pulling away from him. A gasp leaves his mouth, and his eyes fall shut as you pump him with your hand while your mouth kisses and sucks on the head of his cock. You begin licking and kissing down his cock, while your hand softly feels up his balls.

Harry feels like he is in heaven already, and he forgets everything around him. It is only when you completely remove yourself from him that he opens his eyes again, and he sees. Catching on quickly, he leans forward and gathers your hair, twisting it around his palm.

Satisfied with Harry's obedience, your mouth attaches itself to his cock again. You take him slowly, teasingly, and move your head up and down. With every movement, you take him an inch deeper.

"Oh, f–fuck!" He groans out when you gag on him because you took yourself too far too fast. You steady your breathing, which is a bit more complicated as you can only breathe out your nose. You resume sucking him off for a bit longer, bobbing your head down a bit faster. The small sounds that leaves Harry's lips, along with his scrunched up face, gives you enough indication that he is approaching his climax.

So you remove your mouth from his cock.

He lets out a whine at the loss of contact. If your panties weren't wet before, they certainly are now. You smile at the state of him; desperate and needy for you. The fact that you've managed to make him fall apart like this makes you incredibly horny.

"I want to take all of you in my mouth, daddy." You tell him, looking up at him with your big eyes. "You'll have to help me."

You went out on a bit of a limb when you decided to call him daddy, but he doesn't seem to mind at all. In fact, Harry's eyes light up and his jaw slacks at the mention of the pet name.

"Shit– anything, sweetheart. Whatever you need." He croaks out.

"I need you to fuck my mouth." You respond sternly, not wasting any time and taking him between your lips again. You push yourself down his cock as far as you can, breathing deeply before moving your hand to Harry's hand, which is holding onto your hair, and pushing your head forward to indicate that he needs to push his cock down your throat.

Again, it doesn't take him long to listen, because Harry's hips thrust forward, his dick gliding into your throat. You moan at the force with which he pushed, and keep your mouth wide open as you let Harry navigate your head.

Once he fully understands that you are allowing him to let him use your mouth, the true fun begins. With the firm grip he has on your head, he pushes you up and down at an ungodly speed. Your jaw is already tiring from its locked position, but you power through it because the sounds that leave Harry's mouth make up for it.

"Fuck baby, such a good mouth. Never had anything like this... Jesus!" He pants out as he begins to thrust up into your mouth, and you feel like you might pass out. Suddenly, he pulls you away from his dick.

You frown, and realize as he is grabbing for a tissue that he is avoiding messing up your face. You don't stand for it, though, and wrap your lips around his cock again just in time for him to come inside your mouth. You take him deeper and feel the way his sperm shoots in the back of your throat.

"Fuck! Shit, shit..." The not so wide arrange of curse words are the only thing Harry is capable of saying as he dumps his load inside your mouth. The fact that you were so adamant about having his sperm in your mouth made his orgasm even more intense.

Your mouth lets go of his cock with an exaggerated plop, and you swallow every last bit of him, grinning at his fucked out face.

"That was... amazing." He sighs, his gaze flicking from your mouth to your eyes. You hum in agreement, and get up from the floor as he pulls up his pants. You are about to walk away, when Harry grabs your wrist.

"Where are you going?"

"Home." You answer with a smile, but Harry's grip on you only tightens. He shakes his head, his lips pouting.

"No, you need to stay. Let me make you feel good too." He protests. You squint your eyes at him.

"I don't need to do anything."

Harry's eyes widen. "You're right. But just let me make you feel good before you go, please? It's the least I can do."

Your mouth slowly forms into a grin, glad to have him where you want. Well, almost.

"Beg me."

Harry scoffs. "Are you serious? I don't really do begging."

You shrug, smiling at him. "That's fine. My vibrator can get me off too."

You take a few steps towards the door, while Harry contemplates his decisions. However, those were all clouded by the sole moment to please you the second you mentioned your vibrator. The image of you getting off like that is too much to bear. He needs to do it for you.

"Stop." He says. You turn around, and walk back to him as he gets out of his chair and gets on his knees. Grabbing your waist, he pulls you closer, his nose digging into your dress. His hands run up and down your legs, and it is making you weak in your knees.

"Please, let me eat you out baby. I'll do anything to make you feel good. I need to taste you so bad, please let me pleasure you."

You swallow, eyelids ready heavy, as you sigh out. "Alright."

Harry grins at your admittance of defeat, and stands up. He leads you to sit on his desk, your dress hiked up. He removes the stuff behind you, so that you can lean back entirely in case you want to, and waltzes over to his chair.

Spreading your legs, he rolls himself closer to you, and assesses your soaking wet panties. Chuckling, he leans to the side and grabs a pair of scissors, before he cuts the skimpy material from your body. You'd say something of it, but the sight of him admiring your pussy like this is too fascinating to interrupt. So, you keep quiet.

When Harry's thumb suddenly presses on your clit and begins to rub it, you can't help but gasp. His touch feels too good, and that blowjob got you really worked up.

"You have no idea how many times I've fantasized about this." Harry says, marveling at how reactive you are being.

"Me too."

His eyebrows rise up. "Yeah? Tell me more, baby."

You bite your lip, too obsessed with the pet name he's given you. It sounds so sexy coming from his mouth. He awaits your response with bright eyes, lazily rubbing your clit.

"Your arms... I'd think about them so much. And your hands, I'd imagine you choking me with them. They're so big..." You begin, and you know that you could go on for hours if you had to tell him about everything you've thought about doing with him, or doing to him.

Harry doesn't say anything, instead responds with two fingers entering your pussy. You moan at the feeling of his large fingers pumping in and out of you. It feels way fuller than your hand already. His two fingers is the equivalent of your three fingers.

"We can definitely make those fantasies come true..." Harry says softly. "But first, let's make you come, hmm?"

You nod, your head falling back and allowing yourself to fully indulge in the pleasure Harry's giving you right now. You let yourself lay on his desk, wrapping your legs around his shoulders.

"Fuck, that feels good– oh fuck!" You shriek out when Harry tongue begins attacking your tongue after he adds a third finger. He speeds up the movements of his hand to match those of his tongue, and holds onto that tempo until your mind can't conjure up any more words to speak to him.

With the control entirely out of your hands, you let Harry guide you to your orgasm, which washes over your body like a tidal wave. You unconsciously push Harry's head further into your pussy with your legs. With an arched back, you moan at the sensitivity of your clit.

Harry lets you take a minute to catch your breath before he pulls on your arms to have you sit up straight. He is smiling sweetly at you, and your heart warms at it.

"You okay?" He asks, kissing your hands. You nod, trying to ignore the flutters in your heart at the way he is being so gentle.

"Thank you for letting me make you feel good, baby." He says, getting up and leaning into your face. His nose brushes against your cheek as he plants his lips on yours. Your arms wrap around Harry's neck as you kiss him deeper, too caught up in how good he feels and how much you want him.

You're never this greedy. You've never felt like you needed a man's cock inside of you. Like it was the only feasible option. You feel it driving you crazy, and you're sure it is the only reason you say— no, ask:

"Please, fuck me."

The grin that forms on Harry's lips makes you feel like you should regret what you said. A grin like that usually belongs on your face in situations like these. But you need him so bad, you don't really care that you are the desperate one this time.

"Oh, you're begging now too, huh?" He says cockily. You glare at him, pissed that he's acknowledging your neediness and mocking you for it too.

"It's alright baby, I'll give it to you. 'M cock's already hard again from watching you come like that. So fucking sexy..." He says. He pulls his pants down and lifts you off the table, turning you around to the glass windows and pushing your hands against them. "Bend over a bit and speak your legs for me, baby."

You do as he says, biting your lip at Harry's hand that pushes away your dress and roams over your ass. He positions his cock at your entrance and pushes himself into you, sighing in pure relief. You shut your eyes tightly at the size of him filling you up.

"Fuck, you feel good baby." He says, slowly beginning to move in and out a bit. You let out a soft 'yes', causing Harry's jaw to clench. He spanks your ass, watching as it bounces from the impact, and his cock twitching at your yelp.

"Perfect fucking ass... perfect fucking girl, aren't you?" He groans, now lazily thrusting into you. He wants to give you time to adjust, but he learns your wishes when you begin to push yourself back into him.

"Ah, I see. Greedy girl wants to speed things up, hmm? Your wish is my command." He mocks, but does speed up his pace. His hands hold your waist as he begins to pound himself into you, your ass shaking at the impact. He spanks your ass again for good measure, obsessed with the way it moves.

You nearly lose yourself in how good it feels, but you know that he can get deeper than this.

"I want to ride you... want to feel you in my tummy." You spit out, hoping he understands what you're saying in your croaky voice.

Harry listens, pulling himself out of you immediately and taking a seat in the chair. You turn around and walk over to him, throwing your legs on both sides of his lap, before grabbing his cock and sinking yourself down on it.

It goes smoother this time, but Harry's really deep now, just like you wanted. The sensation is everything to you, and it isn’t hard to tell how good it feels for him too. Glad to have a bit of the control back, you start to bounce on his cock.

Harry’s eyes travel over your body, fascinated by the way you are moving above him. His hands travel to the straps of your dress and push them down until he can get your tits out of the top part of your dress. He begins to massage them as you keep impaling yourself on his dick over and over again.

"Fuck, daddy, you feel so good... so good for me. Listening to me. Knew this was the best way to fuck you... you love it." You slur happily. Harry nods profusely at your words, jaw clenched and moaning out in pleasure.

"Yes, needed it so bad baby. You're fucking daddy so good..."

You smile at how caught up Harry looks in his pleasure, like he doesn't know what to do with it. You, however, do know what to with it. You grab one of his hands and wrap it around your throat, before you do the same to him. With his hand on your neck and yours on his, you begin to fuck him as fast as you can.

"Ah, fffuck... shit! Holy shit!" He yells out, and automatically thrusts himself up into you, reaching an even further level of deepness you had never thought possible. That along with your hands on each other’s necks, is enough to know that your climaxes are near.

"Come inside me daddy." You pant out, and he does. It is as if your permission set him off. You smile in delight at the feel and knowledge of his cum being so deep inside of you.

You fuck Harry through his orgasm, and even after. He squirms in his seat. "Wait— too sensitive."

"I don't care, I haven't come yet. Don't you want to make me feel good? Have me coming around your thick cock?" You say sensually, and Harry nods. "Words."

"Yes– fuck! I want you to come, please come around my cock. Please, please..." He begins to beg, a tear rolling down his cheek.

Your toes curl at his whiny voice, and soon your juices are gushing all over his cock. Your pussy contracting around him seems to set Harry off even more, as you feel even more sperm spraying out of his dick and into your walls.

You ride out your high until you can't move anymore. You sit there, forehead pressed against Harry's as you both come down from what just happened.

After a minute or two, you decide to pull out. Slowly but surely, you manage to get Harry's dick out of you without hissing too much at the sensitivity of every single body part down there.

You lean against the desk, too wobbly to stand on your own, and you let Harry wipe you clean with the tissues on his desk. After cleaning himself up, he stands up and positions himself in front of you.

"Hey." He says. Your hand cups his jaw and your thumb wipes away the tear that is far down his face now.

"Hi." You tilt your head. The both of you burst out laughing, still surprised by what went down just now.

"That was really good." He says once the laughter has died down. You nod in agreement.

"Good enough for a repeat?"

Harry pretends to think it over, before he responds: "under one condition."

"And what would that be?" You quirk up an eyebrow, intrigued by his vagueness. He smiles at you so wide that you wonder if his mouth might be hurting.

"You let me take you out on a date first."

You roll your eyes, pretending not to be amused as he chuckles at your reaction. But the second you see the look on his face and the sincerity behind it, you realize that he is being quite serious about this request. You bite your lip, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

"I would love that."

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wolfsrainrules · 2 months ago

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A Quiet Night AU- A DC/ A Quiet Place fusion thought Long Post

Sooooo I was watching A Quiet Place (which I love deeply, it was such a DIFFERENT handle on horror movies, watching that in a theater was a RIDE) and I am neck deep in DC and had t h o u g h t s. Please keep in mind that I have only fandom knowledge of DC and am playing with the death angels (name of the Quiet Place creatures) make up for this au:

To Start:

AU is an AOB verse, cause I wanted to play with what a situation like this would do to instincts and packs and I need everyone to do the thing we do with comics where we apply “Comic Book Logic” to why these death angels succeed in invading the Earth. Why the metas and supers didn’t get them out, because this verse would be taking place AFTER the world has been invaded, and the creatures have wiped out QUITE a large chunk of Earth’s population. Read the VERY LONG ramble about this verse under the cut.

We have Alphas Jay and Cass, Omegas Tim and Dick, Damian is unpresented but approaching the time he would present properly, and he’s an Alpha-to-be. Alfred, Steph and Duke are Betas.

The Death Angels: For those not in the know, they are large, kind of spider-like in movements, VERY fast, and fully armored. The armor stands up to bullets and knives, and explosions can toss them but don’t seem to do damage. They’re entirely blind, have claws and a mouth full of sharp teeth and their hearing is VERY sharp. Their head opens to expose soft insides that work like a super-ear, tracking sound, and that’s really the only vulnerable spot, and they can’t swim. That’s all canon to their verse. I’m playing with them a little, so that the planet they come from is laced so deeply with kryptonite they’ve adapted to sort of work on supers, as in they can’t use their powers on them. I’m upping that armor to be stronger than standard canon, as we do have metas running around and I want them to really only be vulnerable while hunting and exposing the ear to hunt.

It means to kill them, you have to get close enough to be heard, to be HUNTED. You have to be clever. Usually with some kind of blade, as most other things (especially guns) are too loud, and even if it works it brings the hundreds of death angels in the area, every single one that heard it, your way and then your fucked. On top of all of that- if they close the plates of armor that shield their ‘ear’ bullets don’t penetrate it, and blades skitter off. You have to get to that soft unshielded ear to take them out. The hearing was picked up real quick by the Bats and they tried to use that.

On technicality, very high pitched feedback sounds can fuck with their hearing, and cause them pain, usually making he plates that cover the ear kind of…lock up? And then they stagger around, can’t track people or what’s around them, and the ‘ear’ stays exposed cause the plates of armor are locked in an open position, even if they’re jerking around like animatronics move trying to make the sound make sense and stop hurting.

I’m messing with that cause I want to make this more difficult lol. If you manage to mess with the main method of hearing, the death angels are evolved to slam the armor plating that covers their ‘ear’ closed, block out the sound, and shift to a low clicking-purr sound that vibrates their body and acts as a makeshift sonar type ability over the kind of echolocation they’d been using, reading the vibrations of it through their legs and basically triangulating prey and obstacles around them and it makes them more dangerous because it’s a response to being hurt and they do NOT appreciate it.

In canon rain/waterfalls can hide you, if you keep the sound level under the sound of the water. I’m going to keep that, saying the rain hitting the ground hard enough can sort of hide people from that sonar too, if you move carefully. Caves are also a good place to hide- provided the death angels don't get inside. Which means the Bat-Cave is a kind of ‘safe’ space, far enough underground they can speak softly, and the equipment inside is safe to run, so long as they are careful with the clock-entrance.

I babbled to wintersnight (@iphoenixrising) for a good while about this AU (@north-peach doesn’t like horror, she thinks the protags are all stupid and it drives her nuts so she missed this ramble lol) but Winter followed my logic and encouraged me to actually post this somewhere lol

Leading into the Next Important Thing:

Cities are death traps. All that confined space and the noise of it? The death angels came in like moths to a flame. Large groups of moving people trying to evacuate? Too much noise. Death angels stampede in and hit the group like a pack of wolves cornering prey.

Gotham was one city of many that hit hard and fast. The Bats are good at what they do, but they’re not omniscient no matter what anyone thinks. It was so fast.

This verse would be covering the AFTER of the invasion of the death angels, AFTER they’ve swarmed the world, after so many have died. This verse would be the ‘post-apocalypse’ survival AFTER.

Zeta-tubes are technically usable to get them out, and up to the Watchtower, but the sound of them activating is loud enough to pull the death angels, and the tube gets destroyed in their hunt for the sound. This also works in reverse- if you use them to come back down, the creatures will swarm towards whoever arrived, and the tubes still end up getting destroyed.

Coming back to the AOB concept:

I love how all of what’s happening opens the chance to play with their instincts and protective territorial instincts. The urge to den down in a defensive position. To patrol their chunk of space, keep their pack alive and safe

To fight.

They were all scattered when the invasion happened, so they have to work their way back to the cave by foot, cars are too loud, and their grapleguns make enough sound to also be unusable when firing as well as anchoring down. They can’t open the hidden entrances for vehicles, it’s too loud and opens a way straight in, so they have to find other ways in. If they can get into the manor, the clock would be an option, it opens smooth and quiet, but the trade off is risking any sounds inside the cave traveling up the stairs and getting the location found.

So most of the Bats running around Gotham are going to sneak into the hidden natural entrances into the cave systems and navigate back to the cave. Defenses and redirects are going to be set up to prevent death angels from getting in.

Which leads to my favorite part of this AU:

How this situation combines with AOB instincts in the Bats specifically.

How clever the Bats are.

I want to play with that. Wanna address how smart they are, their instincts going absolutely feral-survival-mode wild in this kind of life-or-death situation, with threats actually actively hunting them, zero chance of reasoning with them.

Wanna address the genetic memory of packs before cities were made being drawn out. Wanna look at how packs actually hunt when those instincts are stirred and it’s life-or-death, how the Bats work together. When an Alpha, Omega or Beta is pushed to the brink, pushed to feral, their pack, their territory all threated, all in actual danger by something that can and will hunt them back. I want to see their senses cranked up and used to track death angels down, hunt and kill them.

How terrifying it probably is to go into rut or heat in this kind of situation. Being hazy and vulnerable, instinct driven, unable to focus well, in a situation like this one. How, once the situation has settled correctly into their psyche and bones, it might change. The mess that is a presentation heat or rut in this kind of hell, because Damian is within the age of when it happens (between 13-16 is average in my head, this AU places Damian at 15 in my head, so he’s due for it). What it does to the pack of the person in heat or rut for them to be so vulnerable while something like this is happening.

The protective pup-instincts triggered by an unpresented Damian. What the urge to shield the pack, keep it alive and safe, and protect pups might look like when combined with the hero-vigilante instincts in them, and finding pups who survived the invasion, but are abandoned or the last of their packs, with no one and nothing left. What the drive to protect and expand their packs, keep them alive and thriving might look like.

The territorial instincts playing out, in a hunted/hunting situation with- as Winter put it- “The backdrop of Gotham and how many traps they'd set since this is their territory and they know every rusty fire escape, crumbling Bailbondsmen, and gargoyle in this entire city.”

She understood where I was going with it lol. I adore how well they’d know Gotham, and exploring how that knowledge would play out in setting up traps and triggerable distractions for the death angels, to help in hunting and killing them. How it’d be fed by those territorial instincts of their city being invaded, their people killed, and their pack in so much danger.

On top of all of that, I also like exploring how the pack leader (Omega Bruce) vs pack alpha (Jason) would react in a situation like this, and the give-and-take of compromise and keeping their pack safe in such a situation.

I imagine, when all this starts happening, the Bats are collectively scattered all over Gotham. When it happens, they try fighting first, but the creatures are fast and deadly. They figure out sound being what they use to track quickly, that they need to be quiet, and they’re trying to save who they can but… in a city, always moving, always going, full of crime and all the screams with only so few Bats and everywhere ELSE having the same issues at the same time?

They get forced to retreat and fallback. None of them are sure where the others are, who’s in active danger, they can’t talk to each other over comms, can’t make any sound too loud.

They just have to be dead quiet and make their way to the cave on foot, make jumps that they know they can land silently on buildings, watch for the death angels when they move, being so so very careful. Unable to check in and see if their packmates are alive or not. Bonds blocked on the job, to not distract their pack, and having to KEEP them that way, while headed for the cave, to not distract each other coming home.

Oracle being in the Clocktower- frantically shutting down the clock so it doesn’t ring over the city and bring the creatures to her, shutting down any alarms or alerts that could be too loud from her equipment. Sending the news all over Gotham any way she can, as silent as she can, on how the creatures work, and how the survivors can use that knowledge to STAY alive.

Being scared as she watches trackers, and prays, terrified any time they’re still too long that they may be hurt or dying. Praying she doesn’t see the trackers start moving a vehicle speeds, cause it means they’re going to get chased down by creatures OR a creature has grabbed them and soon the alerts for vitals will scream at her.

Dick shows up at her tower to get her out with Damian on his heels, so they can get her to the cave, because a city destroyed by invasion is not really wheelchair accessible, much less getting all the way over to the cave silently while trying to get through the rubble.

Now for my favorite boy:

Tim. Tim in this AU has lost his pack bonds while on Brucequest. He hasn’t accepted a place back in the pack, hurt and distrustful of if the others mean it, after having been pushed out of the pack in his eyes, rejected and unwanted.

They’ve been trying to fix that, mending bridges and working hard to prove he not only has a place but is WANTED. Building bridges back out with him. By the time the invasion happens, he’s actually starting to believe them- he’s coming to the manor, interacting, trusting they’ll back him, save him, welcome him. He’s coming around- but he still hasn’t accepted a pack bond yet. Not again.

Didn’t feel quite ready for it, so he doesn’t have a bond with any of the other Bats. He doesn’t know if they’re alive or dead, can’t sense the bond and know for sure, and they can’t check on HIM like that either.

The panic of both sides of that equation is REAL. All of them have seen these creatures hunt and kill and destroy. And they don’t know if-

This event, this potential of loss on both sides is what makes Tim realize he is NOT willing to keep going without that bond in place. That he wants to feel them in his head again. He could have died or lost any of them, and never had the chance to be bonded to them as pack again, and-

He can’t do that again. He wants the bonds nestled in his chest, wound around his ribs and heart, thriving and anchored in his head. I may write the scene I have in my head out for Tim coming back to the cave last and just having a breakdown cause everyone is THERE, they’re alive.

This AU is going to be tagged “Quiet Night AU” on my blog, so keep an eye out for more.

And if you made it this far into this monster post, PLEASE feel free to send asks in about this verse, I wanna think about/talk about it and share. My brain is turning over all kinds of snapshots of moments in this verse, and I’d love to hear what yall wanna see from it, what questions or scenes you have in mind. Just address in the Asks that it’s for the Quiet Night AU. Edit: I ended up writing the blurble with Tim making it back to the cave found HERE

#Quiet Night AU #Crossover Fun #DC #Batman #A Quiet Place #Alpha Beta Omega #Omegaverse AU #Wolf Talks Fic Ideas #wolfsrainrules

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six-eyed-samurai · 7 months ago

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SUMMARY: The other Pillars are convinced Tomioka has something against the latest Hashira, but have no idea your husband is simply looking for you during your pregnancy. A/N: I think something glitched when I was making the header...didn't crop properly. Anyway, enjoy this trash and I'm sorry if it's not up to my usual standard but I just got the random idea in the middle of the night! WARNINGS: Fem Reader, pregnancy MASTERLIST/PREVIOUS FICS

Everyone was convinced Tomioka Giyuu hated you right from the start.

You were first introduced to the Hashira when Oyakata-sama called them all for a meeting on the latest reports of demon activity, but requested them all to stay a little longer before being dismissed. Amane gestured for you to come forward with a gentle smile and you shuffled out of the shadows with your hands clasped together in nervousness but with a bright bream upon your face. The Hashira’s eyes caught yours in surprise, wondering if you were perhaps a new Kakushi since you weren’t wearing a slayer uniform, but instead a traditional (f/c) yukata.

Then their eyes strayed downwards and changed their minds about that, but nonetheless still remained in confusion.

“This is our newest member, (y/n) (y/l/n), the (b/f) Hashira. She was supposed to join our ranks quite some months ago but due to her sudden pregnancy she will for now be an honorary member.”

The only sign of your anxiety was the blush on your cheeks and the hand rubbing at your swollen abdomen. “Hi everyone! I’m so happy to meet you all! I won’t be on the battlefield for some time and I’m sorry I can’t fight alongside you for now, but I look forward to getting to know you all. If you need anything, I’m always at the (e/n) Estate.”

The ice was broken and you were immediately approached by many of the Hashira. Himejima-san cried and wished you and your child good health, making you feel a little embarrassed but thanked him anyway. The Mist Pillar Tokito simply stared at you, then at the sky, then at you again before asking what were you doing here again (later on, he startled you by appearing behind and questioning you in that airheaded manner of his if he could talk to the baby).

You were also tackled by the Love Pillar who introduced herself as Kanroji Mitsuri and your new best friend as well as the calmer Insect Pillar, Kocho Shinobu, who despite slightly unnerving you with her smile touched you greatly when she said you could always stop by the Butterfly Mansion for checkups or simply a visit.

“How far along are you?”

“About five months, I think!”

“KYAAAAAAAAAAH! Your baby is going to be so cute! What’s it’s name? Do you know if it’s a he or a she yet? I can’t wait to be an aunt!”

“Heh, I’m not too sure yet, but I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy!”

Mitsuri squealed again, causing you to laugh at her genuine happiness. She whipped her head behind her and called out to the silently glowering Snake Pillar. “Iguro-san, don’t you think the baby will be cute? I really wish I’ll have some of my own one day!”

You and Shinobu shared a smirk as the Wind Pillar grumpily slapped his friend’s back and dragged the furiously red Iguro away, muttering viciously about not wasting any more time in hunting a Twelve Kizuki.

“Oh look, there's Tomioka-san. Why hasn't he come and said hello yet?”

“Ah well, a lone friendless wolf as always.” Shinobu didn't see you originally visibly brighten at Mitsuri’s words and turn surprised at hers.

Indeed Tomioka was standing awkwardly as always a little - long, actually - way off. What was not as always was that horrified, slack jawed look on his face instead of his usual blank, emotionless one.

“Tomioka-san? Are you alright? You've been making that face for a long time already…” Shinobu's eye twitched, but you didn't notice, suddenly preoccupied with Muichiro’s intense questioning of whether he could play with the baby when it was born.

“She shouldn't be a Hashira.”

The remaining Hashira found themselves narrowing their eyes at the Water Pillar's blunt, if not rude, words.

That would be just one of the many events that further convinced them of his intense dislike of you.

***

You started going over a lot to the Butterfly Mansion over then next few months, becoming a fast favorite among the girls for your cheerful attitude and your baby; even Kanao cracked a smile at you when you came around. When the other Hashira arrived to be healed you always made it a point to go pay them a visit and in turn you pretty soon had every one of them in your back pocket, including the harsh, loudmouthed Wind Pillar Shinazugawa who constantly gave you a jolt with the complete 360 with his attitude around you, to the point you could call him a good friend.

Being friends with him usually meant hearing him grumble about the stupid waterboy.

“Why doesn’t he ever look at you anyway, turning away like that. So rude, that little (beep) (beep) (beep)-”

“Eheh, Shinazugawa-san, don’t swear so loudly, he’ll hear you!”

You had stopped by to Sanemi’s room when Shinobu had mentioned he was there to be patched up after a mission and knowing how busy she was, had offered to go help change his bandages with the basic medical knowledge you had picked up over the years of being a slayer. Reluctantly she had agreed and so here you were, chatting away with him until he spotted Tomioka passing by (he poked his head in actually, otherwise Sanemi would never have noticed him) and started complaining about him once more, especially when you had called out to him and Tomioka had simply whipped his head to the side to stare into the distance.

Really, Sanemi wasn’t the only one to notice how Tomioka avoided you like the plague with that stupid, vacant, red expression of his.

“He’s just shy, he doesn’t mean to be rude!” You defended the poor Pillar, continuing with rewinding the new wrappings.

“Tch, you should see how he acts at the meetings, like he’s better than us or something,” was the growling reply. “(beep) doesn’t know how to (beep) talk with anyone with his (beep) attitude.”

“I don’t think he thinks he’s better than all of you, maybe it’s just something else,” You hum, finishing up. “That’s all! I’m glad the demon didn’t go any further than a scratch.”

Shinazugawa grunted, then his gaze caught yours and softened. “By the way, who’s the dad?”

“Oh, it’s -”

“(y/n)-san!” Three heads peeked in from the door shyly. “Can you come and play with us?”

“Of course! Bye, Shinazugawa!”

Like always the reply was only a “tch”.

***

Another thing was that he never stopped repeating what he said at the first time everyone met you: “She shouldn’t be a Hashira”, going as far as to attempt to prevent you from wielding a sword, although this was only noticed by Tanjiro.

You had agreed to the Kamaboko Squad’s requests (aka demands by Inosuke and begging from Zenitsu) to train together, despite Tanjiro’s worries which you brushed off. The boys were very rambunctious and did tire you out quite a bit, but you were having so much fun and they were so eager you just went on sparring with them until even Inosuke muttered a plead for a quick break, unable to beat your incredible swordsmanship.

“(y/n)-chan!!! Who’s the lucky guy you married?! You never told us and I want to know how he managed to score someone so beautiful like you so I can do it with Nezuko-chan!” Zenitsu simpered, scooting closer, ignoring Tanjiro’s scandalized look.

“What’s married?” Inosuke’s voice was muffled underneath his boar mask and the mountain of onigiri you had brought he was stuffing into his mouth, so none of you heard him.

You giggle, placing a hand on your stomach. “He’s very sweet, although he’s honestly very shy and doesn’t talk much. I’m sure you’ve met him before! Can you guess?”

“Woah, really?” Tanjiro brightened, wondering who it could be, but his next question was interrupted by an interrogative monotone.

“What are you doing? You shouldn’t be training.” Tomioka stood in front of them, the first time anyone had seen him interact with you without just staring at the ground. His face was as empty as the void but there was a tiny crease between his eyebrows and Tanjiro didn’t have to inhale to smell the worry reeking off him.

“I didn’t know you were so concerned about (y/n)-chan, Tomioka-san.” Zenitsu’s eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his hair while he glowered judgmentally.

Tomioka made no reply, only swiftly grabbing and removing the sword from your hand. “She shouldn’t be a Hashira, much less train. You nearly died fighting a demon not too long ago, you’re in no shape to be doing this.”

With that he abruptly walked off and left Zenitsu and Inosuke to scream at him for being such an un-gentleman and for not fighting with them while you looked away sadly.

Tanjiro wondered why he didn’t once smell dislike on Tomioka. Only fear.

***

“What’s he got against (l/n)?” Obanai joined in on the conversation from his perch on the tree. He’d look for reasons to hate against the Water Pillar all the time, but unlike the others this time round his hatred was justified.

Tengen rolled his eyes flamboyantly. “I know! He’s constantly acting like she’s a pest to be around, but she doesn’t seem to have beef with him. What’s wrong with that bland creature?”

“Oh come on! We don’t actually know if he hates her,” Rengoku protested mildly.

“Then why does he keep refusing to even make eye contact with her?”

“I mean, Iguro, you can’t talk, you only ever look at Kanroji” - Obanai turned away, blushing furiously as Tengen cackled - “but I get your point. The other day I walked in on them arguing. I can’t believe he would keep reminding her of past failures without keeping her current state in mind!”

“Perhaps he only wants to try and convince her to stay safe during this time and discourage her from slaying for now?”

“Rengoku, my best buddy, you’re too optimistic.”

“There’s no other reason he’d give her the cold shoulder 24/7.”

Soon the conversation drifted to other topics, but little would they know Rengoku was the closest to the truth…

***

Shinobu already had enough on her hands with all the screaming, panic and blood, but of course Tomioka just had to show up at the most inopportune moment.

It had been a relatively quiet day as the two of you sat on the engawa, exchanging war stories over tea when with a sudden cry you had doubled over in pain. Your water had broken and you were heading into labour - quickly.

Just barely the Insect Pillar had managed to get you to a bed and sent the Butterfly Girls scurrying for the necessities, hiding her uneasiness at the slight earliness of your boy’s arrival to keep you calm and help you through it. You were doing well under her coaxing to use Total Concentration Breathing, and thankfully Shinazugawa was still around to help you relax with a familiar face.

Then Aoi had burst in with a frantic expression and thundering footsteps from behind that certainly weren’t hers.

“Shinobu-san, Tomioka is demanding to be let in-”

“Keep him out!” Shinobu grimaced, returning her attention to you. She’s heard and seen what he’s like around you, and other than the fact he has no business to be here she didn’t want to send you into a further state of panic. “He doesn’t like her, and if he opens that mouth of his to say anything more I might be responsible for two deaths.”

You dug your nails into Sanemi’s proffered hand, screaming in pain. He winced but said nothing, only looking up with a determined look in his eyes at Shinobu. “I’ll go keep Tomioka out, just make sure she delivers safely.”

Without waiting for a reply Sanemi rushed out to bar the doorway, leaving Shinobu to assure and handle your birthing with the anxious assistance of the Butterfly Girls. The pain in your stomach was surely abominable, intolerable, and Shinobu found herself growing more alarmed with every minute the baby wasn’t coming out.

“(y/n), I need you to push harder, alright? Can you do that for me?”

“N-no - where is he?”

“Your husband? I’ll get someone to call him, don’t worry,” Shinobu lied with dawning horror that in the entire time she had known you…she had no actual idea who you were married to. “But he wouldn’t like you see you like this, right? You can do it. Just keep your breathing under control.”

“JUST (beep) OFF, TOMIOKA!” Shinazugawa’s voice bellowed through the Mansion. His stocky form soon appeared, stubbornly acting as an indomitable barrier against the equally stubborn Tomioka who was desperately trying to barge his way through.

“Tomioka, we don’t need unnecessary people here to worry (y/n) more-”

”THAT’S MY WIFE!”

Whether it was because Tomioka had never raised his voice before or the sheer shock of it all or the fact you reached out for his hand, Shinobu and Sanemi let him through.

***

“I thought I was going to lose you when I heard you screaming like that from outside.” Giyuu nuzzled deeper into your neck, absently stroking your baby’s tiny hand. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

You played with the strands of his hair with a teasing smirk. “You did to, banging into the room like that, with the “That’s my wife!”. It was very romantic of you, Giyuu~”

“I was in a rush.” Giyuu smacked his face into the pillow, embarrassed while you laugh.

“Ara ara~ Are you both done cuddling? I want to perform a quick checkup on your baby now, if you don’t mind, and all the Hashira are here to ask you a lot of things, Tomioka.” Shinobu stood at the doorway with her customary smile, a twitching eye and crossed arms. Behind her were the shadows of the others trying to peek over her shoulder or head into the room to congratulate you on your baby or beat up Tomioka (both for some).

“Ask about what?” Giyuu lifted up his head in confusion. You snort at his obliviousness, cooing at your precious sleeping baby before gently passing him to Shinobu.

“MAYBE ABOUT HOW (Y/N) IS YOUR WIFE AND YOU NEVER TOLD US?”

“KYAAAAAAAAAH! That’s so cute of you, Tomioka!”

“Do you hate us all or something?!”

“No…? No one asked and I thought (y/n) would have told you,” Giyuu said blankly, glancing at you with wide blue eyes. You sheepishly raised your shoulders.

“I tried to tell them but we kept getting interrupted or had no chance.”

“You did make us all think you hated (y/n) with your behaviour, Tomioka.” Shinobu raised an eyebrow. “After all, you rarely spoke to her and when you did it was only to reprimand her, but I can see now it was probably out of worry for your child and her…although rather harshly.”

“Oh!” You burst out laughing, shaking so hard you nearly couldn’t take back your awakening baby Shinobu was handing over. “Giyuu’s just very shy! See-”

You pressed a quick peck to his cheek.

giyuu.exe has stopped working.

#giyuu x reader #giyuu x y/n #giyuu x you #giyuu tomioka x reader #giyuu tomioka x y/n #kny x reader #giyuu x reader fluff #Sunny's Works

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darkromanceenthusiast · 1 year ago

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Okay so I was gonna ask about a MM fic but I saw you do werewolves….

Maybe a witch is doing a ritual under the full moon in the forest? Maybe it feels so good that the werewolf just needs to keep fucking you…

I’m an extremely shy person and have no idea on how to request but I just have a BIG thing for werewolves so pretty please

Absolutely!

M!werewolf x human!witch!reader

Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, reader is AFAB, Cunnilingus, degradation and praise, breeding kink, reader is very okay with it, but still dub/non-con, cursing, kidnapping, not proof read

This was not, how you were expecting this night to go, face down ass up in the dirt as the panting werewolf man above you tried his best to move your restrictive clothing, one large hairy paw-hand keeping you still. The full moon was high above you and you could see your crystals and herbs for your ritual spilled before you.

“You’re practically begging for it, you know? Pretty little thing like you coming into the woods as if you’re not going to get fucked.” The werewolf says, your attention snapping back to him, he must have had enough of the struggle game because he finally ripped everything from the waist down off, you feel a rush of cold air and shiver, feeling your nipples harden a bit as your blood rushes through your veins in a perverse mix of fear and arousal, the smell making him groan as he nudges his face forward, taking a deep whiff of your cunt and letting out a growl that went straight to your core. You’re not…. Into this… are you? No absolutely not! You’re just frustrated… it’s just been a while since-

A gasp is pulled from your lips as you feel his warm, rough tongue lap at your folds, you can feel the small puffs of hot air coming from his nose as he laps at you, a few whines escaping him.

“You just keep getting wetter and wetter, do you like this, having your gorgeous pussy eaten by me?” He asked tauntingly, he knew you wouldn’t answer but he didn’t care, you didn’t know it yet but you would he his mate, his pretty little witch. He gives another long lap before finally plunging his tongue in your hole, swirling around and making you moan softly, embarrassment flooding you, his tongue was bigger and thicker than any human man’s tongue after a while he pulls back from your cunt with a squelch and gives a deep chuckle as he grabs your hips tighter and forces you on your back so you’re looking up at him, he smiles down at you, sharp canines glistening in his half wolf-half man form.

“Fuckin hell, princess, I can’t wait to give you my knot… I bet you’ll take it so well, huh?” He growls and you nod slowly, he raises an eyebrow before he leans down, licking your neck softly as he inhaled your scent before finally ripping your top off, he wastes no time running his tongue all over your nipples, letting out soft pants and whines as he did, it wasn’t long until you felt his cock poking at your entrance before he ran it through your folds a few times, growling as he did,

“Fuck I’m not even inside ya yet and you feel amazing.” He huffs out, your face flooding red as he spits on his cock and pushes the tip to your entrance, you can feel his large, hairy paw like hands pressing right above your womb as he enters you, the sensation of being filled and the pressure causing your breath to hitch a bit, he moved his thumb down and made lazy circles on your clit, mumbling curses and praise under his breath. You could feel his dick twitching and throbbing inside you, begging for some friction. You gave your hips a small roll and he snapped, growling as his hand flew to your throat, pining you as his other hand lifted your hips and began to pound you.

“I was gonna be gentle… but if you want to act like a whore I’ll fuck you like one.” He says but you don’t entirely hear him you’re too focused on the feelings. Him filling you, cock pressing against your cervix with every thrust, his thumb tracing your clit, and his hand wrapped firmly around your throat making everything feel more intense. Finally he pulls his hand off your throat, air flooding your lungs as you cough and sputter a bit making him laugh, you feel a dizzy rush and stare at the spinning wolf man above you, feeling a familiar tug building in your stomach. You’re so close already, he’s filling you in ways you didn’t think could happen.

“God fucking damnit,” he says as his claws dig into your hips a bit, “You feel so good… look at you taking me so well.” He says, gripping the back of your thighs and pushing them back, giving you the perfect view of his cock stretching you out, you can already see it beginning to swell at the base and you bite your lip, he rubs your clit a bit faster and the tension finally snaps, your orgasm running through your body as he continued to pound you, you hear him growl as you tighten around him, after a few seconds you feel his knot pressing against you.

“C’mon… take my knot, little witch, take my pups.” He growls into your ear, still pounding your sensitive and overworked cunt, you felt your eyes roll back as his knot popped in, stretching you impossibly full before he finally gave one last thrust, filling you with his first load of the night.

“Fuck, fuck yes, little mate… you did so good… such a good girl.” He says, his tongue lapping at your back as he wraps his arms around you.

“We’ll be stuck with you on my cock for a bit, pretty girl.” He says, standing up as he used his hands under your ass to keep you balanced and close to him, now that he quite literally had you trapped on his cock you couldn’t run as he took you to a small cabin, you doubt you’d be let to leave anytime soon though.

#terato #exophelia #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #monster x human #monster x reader #teratophillia #m0nst3r #m0nster fugger #monster fucker #monster smut #werewolf smut

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sundrop-writes · 17 days ago

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Stupid For You

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Fem!Reader

Hey - tell me what you want me to say. You know I’m Stupid For You.

I’ll take what I can get.

The best is hard to grip when everybody wants you, and everybody wants you.

Summary:

Stiles tried to return your panties - he really did.

But he still has the contraband in his possession, and he accidentally drops the underwear in the locker room in front of the entire lacrosse team. To cover up the fact that he stole them, he lies and says that he got them from you after a hook-up. And surprisingly - you back up his story?

Only with the promise that he helps you turn his lie into the truth.

Virgin!Stiles Stilinski x Best Friend!Fem!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut/PWP.

Word Count: 11,900

Teen Wolf Masterlist | AO3 Link

Before you read this fic, be sure to read BRAINWASHED. This fic can be read as a standalone, but you get more Stiles goodness by reading both, and the context of this one will make more sense if you read the other fic first.

Full list of warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; this fic DOES use Y/N; as with the previous fic - the reader is implied to be fat/plus-sized; also again - for argument's sake, even though the character's in this fic are in high school, everyone is at least 18 (and the fic was inspired by a 20 something actor, so imagine the characters to be whatever age you want); mentions of panty stealing (carried over from the previous fic - Stiles stole a pair of the reader's panties in that fic and still has them in his possession); mentions of Stiles masturbating, but not described in detail like last time; mentions of Stiles having sexual fantasies about the reader; the rest of the lacrosse team finds Stiles with the panties and mocks him for it - they mock him for potentially having the panties to wear them and call him a 'cross-dresser', so I guess the warning here is transphobia and transphobic ideas (which would be very typical of high school boys, especially around the time this show was made in 2011); mentions of other members of the lacrosse team finding the reader sexually attractive (it is implied that the reader is generally known as a hot, attractive girl); mention of the reader wearing a 'slutty' Halloween costume to a party (Stiles has a picture of it that he 'loves'); for the actual smut section - the reader is dominant and Stiles is submissive; size kink - Stiles likes being manhandled by the reader because he is thin and skinny; the reader imposes rules on Stiles as a dom and he follows them, but there is no safeword implemented or needed (as the writer, I say they don't need one because they will never be put in danger of using one) (because they are fictional characters and their hard 'nos' will never come into play and only things they want will happen); orgasm restriction - Stiles has to ask the reader in order for permission before cumming; bondage - the reader uses a scarf to tie Stiles's wrists to the bed; the reader gives Stiles a handjob; lots of dirty talk; orgasm denial/edging (towards Stiles); the reader calls Stiles: needy boy, good boy, babe, baby, sweetheart; undertones of humiliation kink; undertones of pain kink (nothing severe, but Stiles does like a bit of pain); begging (from Stiles, a lot); protected penis in vagina sex (they DO use a condom this time) (different, I know); Stiles sucks on the reader's tits; Stiles eats the reader's pussy; thigh riding - Stiles grinds against the reader's thigh to cum; praise kink - towards Stiles; the reader calls Stiles 'pretty'; undertones of dumbification kink; I believe that is finally it. I hope you all enjoy!!

A/N: So, I have some mixed feelings about releasing this fic. Currently, I am only rushing to edit and release it in order to get it off my plate, and I want to do so before the end of the year. I wrote this during the hiatus, when I was writing fics without editing them and I really enjoyed getting to write a fic and go onto the sequel without having to stop and think too much about it. But to me, the first fic feels naturally complete. And so I didn't really like people nagging and continually asking for a sequel to the other fic as if it's not a complete fic on its own. It's only recently that I found a way to put it into words. Whenever I release a fic and people only care about seeing a sequel or a second part (especially if it's a oneshot with an intentional ending and people ask for a sequel like it's something so urgent), it makes me feel like that fic is not good enough because people view that fic as incomplete on its own. I know people think it's a compliment or flattering to ask for a sequel, but to me, if you like my writing, ask for me to write more for those same characters or in that same fandom - but if you are constantly asking for a sequel to a specific fic, it makes me think that you think that fic is not good and it needs to be completed in some way. But anyway - I tried to remember why I had fun writing this fic in the first place, and if anybody starts asking for a 'part three', I will start swinging. (THERE WILL NOT BE A PART THREE.) Also, when I originally wrote this, I was watching Season 1 and I had not met Isaac yet, so for my own fun, as my own special treat, I added Isaac to the locker room scene. Because he is my baby. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!

...

A week later, Stiles still had not returned the stolen panties to you.

It was something that he kept meaning to do. Honestly, he really did.

But he just never got the chance to.

Somehow, in that entire week, he had never been left alone in your room. Not for long enough to actually figure out what to do with the stolen goods. Should he leave them in your hamper and let you find them in the laundry? Should he slip them back into your drawer like nothing had happened since, technically, they were clean? He always ended up panicking and shoving them back into his bag whenever he heard you coming back down the hall.

On other nights when the two of you had been studying together, it had been at his place instead of yours. And any time he had gone over to your house, you had been with him pretty much the whole time.

And okay - maybe that wasn’t entirely true. Maybe you had taken bathroom breaks or left the room for a while because your mom wanted to talk to you. Or you ran downstairs to grab a pizza that you had ordered to share with him - but every time he opened his backpack to grab the panties in order to put them back, he felt some insane thing inside his head telling him that he just couldn’t do it. Part of him thought that it was fear over getting caught - the idea that you would walk back into the room just in time to see him with the evidence in hand.

But deep down, he knew it was a possessiveness. The idea that these panties were now his. They belonged to him now and he didn’t want to put them back. Those panties were his prize - his special, secret little part of you. And he couldn’t give that up. Not yet.

He hadn’t jacked off with them since that first time. Well, he hadn’t specifically put them around his cock and made a mess of them in the same way. But he held them in a clean hand and enjoyed the texture of the lace, enjoyed the thought of you wearing them - while he used his other lubed hand to make himself cum. And he had done that every single night, sometimes twice, since he had taken them. It was becoming a bit of a worrying habit.

He was wondering if you had noticed them gone yet.

Maybe, when he finally did get rid of them, he wouldn’t return them back to you - he would have to burn them or something, just to get rid of the evidence. And then he would have to go on believing that you either hadn’t noticed the specific pair gone or you went on thinking that you had simply just lost them.

But he couldn’t dwell on that for too long - because he did actually have other things to do besides viciously jerking off to thoughts about you. Even though that activity alone took up way too much of his time these days. Surprisingly, he was doing a lot better in his classes thanks to studying with you (he actually managed to retain a lot more of the material when you explained it to him), and he had just made First Line of the lacrosse team due to a horrible outbreak of pink eye. So things in his life were really looking up.

The team funneled into the locker room, sweaty and tired after their practice, but personally - Stiles was glowing.

He felt like he had done particularly well that day, and you had shown up to watch his practice. Even if Coach kept getting his name wrong and you had almost stormed into the middle of the field to scream at him about it. Overall, it was a good day. And he had a study date with you planned after this, so he had nothing but excitement brewing in his stomach at the idea of getting to spend more time with you.

But then - it happened.

He had almost completely forgotten that the contraband stolen panties were even in his bag. The item had become such a normal part of his life now that he hadn’t even considered what might happen if someone else found them on his person. So he thought nothing of putting his bag on the bench in the middle of the room and rooting through it, wide open, looking for the fresh clothes he had brought with him. (Of course, the only reason he had even brought fresh clothes was because he knew he would be hanging out with you later, and he wanted to avoid another Mustard Stain Incident.)

When he took out these fresh clothes and began dressing (fresh out of the showers, of course) - it was just a tiny blur in the corner of his eye. Just a little streak of purple falling to the floor. As he put his second foot into his jeans, he spotted them, right there, sitting in the middle of the locker room floor - and his heart stopped.

Naturally - someone else spotted them too.

And just as Stiles raced to pick them up, another hand snatched them out from under him.

“Woah, Stiles.” Danny’s voice chuckled, rising back to his full height. “Are these yours?”

Mockery was dripping in every inch of his words, and Stiles’s heart raced. He rushed to pull his pants up, not yet fastening his zipper, and he glared at Danny, entirely lost for words. He moved to snatch the purple lace panties where Danny was dangling them off one finger, partly disgusted, partly amused.

Naturally, Danny dodged the move, still looking at Stiles with mockery written all over his face.

“Ya know, this really isn’t your color - red would look much better on you.” Danny smirked.

Wait - he thought that Stiles had them because he had been wearing them?

This comment easily caught Jackson’s attention, who slammed his locker door shut and moved to see what his friend was talking about.

“Oh my god,” He chuckled, looking at the item in Danny’s hand and then back to Stiles, amusement spreading into a horrible grin across his face. “You’re a cross-dresser! This is too good. I always knew you were a freak, but this just brings it to a whole new level.”

Jackson’s loud voice caught the attention of the entire team, who all craned their necks to see what he spoke of - including Scott, who practically ran around the corner with his hair still soaking wet and some suds dripping off him, a towel hastily wrapped around his waist as he raced to see what Jackson meant.

“What?” Scott balked, looking at Stiles entirely confused.

“Look, they’re not mine!”

Stiles barked, panic setting in as he realized how fast the rumor would spread. It would be incredibly juicy gossip, if it were true (and most people didn’t care if gossip was true or not, which would make it spread even faster) - so he rushed to stamp it out before that could happen.

“They belong to Y/N!”

With this harsh declaration, he reached out and snatched them back, and Danny was too shocked by these words to move away this time.

The room fell deadly silent, save for the distant hum of the shower that Scott had left running in his haste to watch the confrontation unfold. Everyone was staring at Stiles unabashedly now, very clearly shocked by his words.

Fuck.

Stiles’s heartbeat ramped up again. He had been so quick to try and exonerate himself that he had walked into a whole new problem:

Now everyone on the team would find out that he was a panty-stealing pervert. And he wasn’t sure which reputation was worse: that, or being assumed to be a secret cross-dresser.

“Seriously?” Isaac asked, being the first one to speak up and break the silence. “Because if you of all people managed to hit that,” He let out a low whistle, let a train blowing out a hoot of steam. “I admire you. She is so fucking hot. Normally she doesn’t give guys at this school the time of day. How did you-?”

“No, no fucking way, they’re not hers.” Jackson scoffed, cutting off Isaac’s congratulatory words, immediately in disbelief. His natural instinct was to think that Stiles would never be able to get with someone as hot as you. “She’s a ten and you’re a solid three. Maybe. In the dark. With a bag on your head. That so did not happen.”

Stiles frowned at the insult, but he was relieved that nobody suspected that he had stolen the underwear. Nobody had seen through him to the much more likely truth.

“Come on, he’s like a four.” Danny added on. “He could easily be a seven if he changed his hair.”

Feeling suddenly self conscious, Stiles put a hand up to his head - and felt entirely confused about where this conversation was going.

“You’re getting off topic,” Scott piped up, looking between Danny and Stiles, his face nothing but pure confusion. “You’re telling us that you finally, actually went for it?”

He was shocked that you and Stiles had gotten together without him knowing it. And he was slightly disappointed that his best friend had gotten some action with his long-time crush without telling him about it.

“Yeah, come on - give us some details.” Isaac added on with a grin.

“Yes, yes I did! I finally went for it.” Stiles replied, mocking confidence, puffing out his chest. “Y/N and I hooked up in my Jeep last week. And these are hers,” He added on, proudly holding up the underwear as his prize.

If he was going to screw himself with a lie, he might as well make it a big one.

“Really?” Jackson posed, clearly still not believing him. “So - how did it go down? Did you get to second base? Third?”

“Uh… remind me of the bases again?” Stiles muttered.

Isaac rolled his eyes, and Scott looked as though he was making calculations in his head.

“What was it - handjob? Blowie? Did you finger her? When did you get those?” Jackson persisted. “Is she a screamer?”

Stiles’s gut twisted. So he was going to need details for his fake story.

“You are so utterly barbaric.” Danny muttered, turning back to his locker, clearly tuning out of the conversation now that it had gotten too ‘straight’ for him.

“Gross!” Scott disrupted Stiles’s internal panic with a face of twisted disgust. “Can we not talk about one of my best friends like this? Please?”

“Jesus, Scott, don’t ruin this for me,” Isaac whined, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, McCall, shut it.” Jackson grunted, dismissing him. “I just wanna know if Stiles here is lying.”

Scott simply rolled his eyes and retreated back to the shower. He was someone who truly believed Stiles at his word. Even if he had never smelled the pheromones of sex on him, he guessed that ‘hooked up’ meant something else to Stiles.

Stiles hated that this left him alone with several pairs of eyes dissecting him - the guys on the team who were perverted and gossipy enough to want to know the details of his hook-up with you.

“Well - I’m not lying.” Stiles hissed through his teeth. “She - we. Well - we made-out in the backseat. And then - she - she rode my dick. Hard.” He said, knowing that his tone didn’t sound the most confident. But he supposedly had proof right there in the form of your underwear.

“Hmm, really?” Jackson replied, still not convinced. “You know what? Why don’t we just go and ask Y/N about this whole thing? She and Lydia are waiting outside, aren’t they?”

Oh fuck.

Stiles was screwed. So, so screwed.

His stomach rose up into his throat and he couldn’t get words out, couldn’t scream out ‘no’, couldn’t do anything to stop Jackson (who was fully dressed and ready) as he snatched the underwear out of Stiles’s hand and marched out into the hallway. All Stiles could do was rush out into the hallway in pursuit, following Jackson and the group of gawking looky-loos that had followed who now seemed very interested in this piece of drama.

Stiles didn’t even have time to pay attention to the fact that he wasn’t yet dressed himself - he didn’t have a shirt or shoes on and his pants weren’t even fastened. He couldn’t bring himself to mind because he was about to be outed as a thief and a pervert, and likely about to be violently jumped by the entire team for it.

He wished that he still had his lacrosse pads on.

You and Lydia were standing against a couple of random lockers, chatting idly, and you both looked utterly confused by the mob approaching. Lydia looked even more confused (with a hint of disgust) when she saw that Stiles was still half naked, and if Stiles wasn’t flooded with panic, he might have noticed you raking your eyes over his torso with a certain hunger and then licking your lips.

“Hey, Y/N,” Jackson smiled at you trying to be charming. “These fell out of-” He held up the underwear to show you, and you immediately frowned.

“Ew! Why do you have them?” You cut him off, snatching them back before he could finish his sentence.

“Are those your underwear?” Lydia asked, looking between you and Jackson with anger brewing. “Jackson, why do you have another girl’s underwear?” She ground out sharply.

“Well, as I was saying,” He said, clearly annoyed. “Those fell out of Stiles’s backpack. And he claims that he only has them because he hooked up with you, Y/N,”

You and Lydia both looked at Stiles - you, with a certain content glow in your eyes, and Lydia, glaring at him while her lips curled in unhidden disgust. Jackson stood there with a smirk, as though waiting to be right, and there was a moment where nobody spoke that Stiles swore his heart swelled up and climbed out of his throat.

Then, you let out a soft laugh and said:

“Yeah. We did. Why is this such big news?”

Jackson glared at you and Lydia’s expression of disgust became even more prominent. Stiles became dizzy with shock and he hoped that nobody noticed the way his chest flexed as he let out a breath of relief.

Thank God - you were covering for him.

Wait. Why were you covering for him?

“He and I have been hooking up for months now. We didn’t want to parade it around the school as gossip and I made him promise that I wouldn’t become locker room talk,” You stressed these words, giving him a small glare.

Behind Jackson, Isaac’s face became painted with guilt.

“But it’s true.” You said, giving Stiles an oddly sultry look. He knew he was standing there with his mouth stupidly agape, but he just couldn’t find it in him to close his mouth. “The last time we hooked up, I gave him these panties in case he got lonely on nights I can’t visit.”

You reached out, running a single finger along his bare torso from sternum right to the waistband of his underwear where they were sticking out of his jeans - and yup, his dick was definitely ballooning to life now.

“I didn’t intend for everybody on the lacrosse team to put their grubby hands all over them.” You said this sharply, glaring at Jackson now.

He simply rolled his eyes in reply. Clearly, he hated the idea that he had been wrong, and he was pouting in silence now.

“Okay, this has been sufficiently gross.” Lydia announced, effectively ending the conversation. “Jackson, can you go get your stuff so we can leave? We have dinner with my mom at five, and-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Jackson sighed, rolling his eyes again.

“Stiles, you better hurry up too.” You told him. “I need to get that bra I left in the back of your Jeep.”

And then - much to his shock, you leaned in and laid a kiss right on his lips. Firm, but fast. Laying a claim on him right in front of everyone. Owning up to the story materially as much as you had with your words.

If it hadn’t been for Jackson slapping him on the shoulder, Stiles would have been frozen with shock long after you pulled away. But then, he was on autopilot, walking back to the locker room with Jackson and the other onlookers who were whispering in hushed tones about him ‘banging such a hot girl’.

“I gotta tell you, Stilinski, I did not think that you had it in you.” Jackson told him, this being a compliment coming from him. “But I guess somehow, you ended up with a ten.”

“I definitely want more details later.” Isaac told him in a low whisper before he returned back to his own locker.

Somehow - Stiles had come out on top in this situation.

In the hallway behind them, Lydia sighed and locked you in a judgemental gaze.

“Really? Stiles?” She asked, harshness seeping through her voice.

“What?” You shrugged. “He’s cute.”

Lydia waited for further explanation, and you folded.

“...And he’s easy to boss around. I like it when he gets flustered from simple instructions, but then does it anyway.”

“Oh.” Lydia nodded. “So it’s a kink thing.”

You laughed, shaking your head. You couldn’t entirely disagree with her.

…

It wasn’t until Stiles was nearly finished dressing, sitting on the bench tying his shoes that it truly hit him:

He was still utterly screwed.

Even if the guys on the team thought he was some high school hero for somehow managing to get into your pants (some of them high-fiving him and patting him on the shoulder in congratulations before they left the locker room). And even if, for some bizarre reason, you had chosen to cover for him in front of everyone (he put that on you being a loyal best friend and quite literally not wanting to air your dirty laundry in front of everyone) - you still knew the truth. You and Stiles might be the only people who knew, but both of you still knew the truth.

For a minute there, he had been deluded enough to start believing his own bullshit story. But it was still complete bullshit.

There hadn’t been some heat of the moment romp in the back of his Jeep that resulted in you naked for him, losing your underwear or giving them to him as a reward. He was still a pathetic virgin who had stolen them and had no right to have them in the first place. He still had to face you, likely knowing that this was the end of your friendship, because you were the only person who knew about the horrible thing that he had done.

Stiles dreaded facing you, but he knew that he couldn’t hide out in the locker room forever. So he grabbed his gear and he braved his way into the parking lot, where you were now waiting by the Jeep since Lydia had left with Jackson. You were distracted, looking at something on your phone, and Stiles savored the few moments he had left to admire your beauty before you would declare that you hated him forever and never speak to him again.

In all honesty, Stiles expected you to slap him, yell at him, and then leave. He expected you to, at the very least, tell him that the friendship was over and that he should never talk to you again.

He was entirely surprised when he approached you and nothing of that nature happened.

Instead, you gave him a cold, uninterested look before you said:

“Door.”

In the most deadpan voice ever, while motioning to the passenger’s side door - oh, of course. Obviously meaning for him to open the door for you.

It was something he usually did upon instinct anyway (always bending over backwards to impress you) but today, the intense dread hanging over his head had caused him to forget.

He rushed to get the door for you and you climbed into the passenger’s seat as you usually did, still not yet speaking to him. So then he busied himself with putting his gear in the back, still feeling anxiety curl in his gut at the conversation that would inevitably take place during the ride home. At least you still felt okay with riding with him. Perhaps the friendship wasn’t entirely ruined after all.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and began fumbling with his keys in nervous, shaky hands, not yet ready to look you in the eye. You were staring at yourself in the flip-down mirror, fixing your hair, wiping off some lip gloss that had smeared. Usually this would be a moment he would absolutely drink in, loving to stare at you while you did such menial tasks. But today, after being caught doing such a horrible thing, he was absolutely drenched in guilt and he just couldn’t bring himself to face you.

The two of you simmered in the silence for a few moments. He was waiting for you to bring it up - for you to scream, yell, hit him, do something.

He was surprised by what came next.

“You said your dad isn’t gonna be home tonight, right?” You posed, still looking in the mirror rather than at him.

It was what he had told you at lunch, inviting you over to watch some horror movies that you had been bugging him to see.

He had guessed those plans would be canceled, hinging on what had just happened.

“Uh, yeah.” He said, confirming it once again. “He’s working the night shift.”

“Good. We’ll go to your place then.”

You thought he would start to drive at this confirmation, but he was still unsettled by anxiety. He was still waiting for you to acknowledge it, at least.

“Ugh, okay… are you gonna yell at me?” He burst out, knowing that it was incredibly stupid, asking to be yelled at, but he truly didn’t know what else to do at this point. You gave him a strange look, almost confused, and ran his hands over his face in frustration. “Come on! We both know what happened!”

“Stiles, my, my… what are you talking about?”

Your voice was dripping with sarcasm and your eyes were filled with determined mischief, and he knew then and there - you wanted him to say it. You wanted him to blatantly confirm in his own words what he had done.

Stiles let out a harsh sigh, leaning his head down and accidentally bumping his forehead against the steering wheel in a way that made the horn dully beep, the knot growing larger and tighter in his gut.

“Come on, you know…”

He trailed off, hoping that you wouldn’t actually force him to say it. He sat upright again, and you continued to look at him expectantly, patiently, and he swallowed around the terrible dryness in his throat before he forced himself to say it.

“I - I stole your underwear and kept them in my bag.”

You both knew that he was leaving out the part where he had masturbated with them. Even if you had no proof of that, it was starkly obvious to you.

But you decided not to push him about that detail. (For now.)

“Oh. That.” You said, continuing to sound utterly sarcastic in your cluelessness.

Then your tone switched to something oddly genuine as you said something he never would have expected.

“I’ve been waiting for like a week to see if you even had them. I kind of thought I was going crazy. I thought maybe my cat stole them because you weren’t fessing up and you didn’t try to bring them back,” You sighed. “I was worried my whole plan failed.”

Something inside of Stiles snapped, and he thought it was the last branch on his tree of his sanity. He chose not to worry about it for now.

“Y - your plan?” He stuttered out, barely grasping at the reality of what you had meant.

You had wanted him to find your underwear? You wanted him to take them? You wanted him to-?

You let out a bright, amused laugh.

“Yes, dummy!” You said, reaching up and poking the side of his head while he stared at you in utter shock. “I left the panties there for you to take. You’re cute, but god - you’re really dense sometimes.” You let out a sigh. “Now drive, please. As long as the blood currently trapped in your dick isn’t gonna distract you too much.”

He hated that he got a sick thrill from you mocking him and calling him ‘cute, but dense’. But he was glad that he was used to driving with boners that you had given him, because it didn’t distract him too horribly. Thoughts of what would happen when the two of you got there had him running a few stops signs, though.

…

Stiles still wasn’t entirely sure how the heinous crime of stealing your panties had gotten him into this glorious position, but with the way things were going, he no longer cared to question it.

The minute that the two of you got through his bedroom door, you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pulled him into a bruising kiss. He struggled to keep up, clumsy but entirely excited against the movement of your mouth, wondering if he had somehow gotten sucked into another heated daydream.

But no, that couldn’t be true - because this was so much fucking better.

The smell of your perfume in his nose, the little puffing breaths you let out against his cheek, the little moans that emanated from your throat. And holy hell, the feeling of your tongue shoving past his lips that caused him to let out a pathetic moan of his own as you seemed determined to filthily fuck his mouth with it.

You were a lot more aggressive in real life than you were in his dreams.

But he fucking loved it. He loved it so much.

His cock was already throbbing in his pants, likely staining his boxers with copious amounts of precum as you walked him back toward the bed. You then used the hand you had in the middle of his chest to shove him roughly back onto it.

“Oh my god.”

He squeaked out the words at the feeling of being manhandled by you - given, he knew he didn’t weigh that much and he had made no effort to put up a fight, but it was still hot to know that you could shove him around so easily. Which was something he would have to mentally unpack with himself later. But for now, he would simply just enjoy it.

While his dick continued to ache harder, he looked up at you in awe. You were standing at the foot of the bed with your lip gloss smeared, your chest heaving slightly with a wicked grin on your face. Stiles had never seen a more beautiful predator in all his life. The look in your eyes told him that he was about to be absolutely devoured by you - and he couldn’t fucking wait.

“Y/N, please-” He was about to begin begging, but you cut him off sharply.

“Shut up.” You barked, and he felt a beautiful wave of hormones crash over his body at this. You were much more aggressive than in his dreams. It was so perfect. “No more talking now.”

You put a knee on the bed between where his thighs had naturally draped open and you leaned over his body, crowding tightly into his personal space. He hoped that the needy whine he couldn’t contain as you raked your nails across his scalp wouldn’t count as ‘talking’. He was desperate to follow your rules - so desperate to be a good boy for you.

“You will do everything I tell you to.” You whispered against his lips, and he nearly began shaking as he resisted the urge to close the gap and kiss you again. “Unless you want me to tell all the boys on the team that you’re actually a filthy perv who stole my panties?”

“Y-” He nearly gave a verbal confirmation of this, but then he remembered what you had said.

No more talking.

Instead, quickly picking up on following the rules, Stiles nodded his head aggressively.

“From now on, you do not look at any other girl, you do not touch any other girl, you belong to me - do you understand?”

He had no clue what ‘other girls’ you thought he might possibly be touching, or even talking to in a non-platonic way, but he got another tight thrill at being claimed as yours. He wanted so badly to be yours - to be your good boy.

He nodded aggressively again - his tongue lolling out of his mouth, slick with want, practically drooling down his chin like a dog at this point, his eyes staring at you with a hypnotized kind of need.

“When we are having sex, you do not speak unless prompted, you do not cum unless I give you permission, and from now on - you do not touch yourself unless I tell you to.”

His cock throbbed weakly in protest at this. He swallowed thickly, his throat straining with complaints about your words. He knew it would be difficult to go from jerking off every morning and every night to likely not at all, but fuck - you, on top of him, you wanting to have sex with him - it was more than a fair price to pay.

If someone had told him a week ago that he would be in this position, he would have given up anything for it.

So naturally, he nodded again.

“Do you understand?”

He stayed silent, believing that he was following your rules.

“Tell me that you understand.”

“I understand.” Stiles breathed out in a rush, nodding again.

“Good. Now take off your clothes.”

You got off the bed again and he was momentarily distracted by watching you shuffle through your bag for something, but then he remembered the instruction. You wanted him to take off his clothes. You actually wanted to touch him.

Stiles rushed to strip and he didn’t have time to be self conscious before you were kissing him again, drowning him in hot, open-mouthed kisses as he stepped out of his underwear and jeans where they were pooled around his ankles. You pushed him onto the bed again and this time followed him, straddling his waist while still fully clothed yourself. Wearing the shirt, skirt, and tights you had worn to school that day, making for an odd sensation as the fabric covering your hot cunt rubbed against his now bare, very hard dick.

He didn’t think anything of it when you grabbed his hands and brought them above his head - but then there was fabric encircling his wrists, and he pulled himself away from your mouth to blink up dumbly, wondering what you were doing.

You had gotten a scarf out of your bag, and you were tying him to the bedpost.

“Remember what I said?” You grinned at him, tying a knot that was surprisingly secure. “Good boys get rewards, and bad boys get spanked.”

He tugged experimentally on the hold, and it was pretty firm. Not tight enough to cut off his circulation - but he definitely didn’t see himself getting out of it without help.

His stomach jumped as he wondered which you had deemed him as - good or bad. Especially because he was now tied up, completely at your mercy. He was splayed out on his back, so this wouldn’t be an optimal position to spank him in. But theoretically, you would do whatever else you wanted to him. And that thought sent an odd tingle through his body, causing a wonderful jolt through his cock.

“I’m gonna give you a chance to earn a reward, Stiles.” You told him, delivering another messy kiss. “You gonna be a good boy for me?”

“Yes.” He answered eagerly. “Fuck, yes - I wanna be good for you.”

You grinned at this.

He was more than eager to see what you were gonna do next.

A sharp jolt of anxiety hit him when you sat up (leaning more of your weight on his cock, causing him to let out a pathetic moan) - he hated being separated from you already. He churned in anticipation as you took a moment to sit there and just admire him.

Stiles was so pretty, tied up for you, ready to be devoured - his honey eyes glossed over with need and anticipation, his lips bitten pink and slightly swollen, parted in that beautifully dumb way as he heaved out shallow, desperate breaths. Yes, he was skinny - even playing lacrosse hadn’t managed to put much muscle tone on his body, but you did find a certain appeal in his lithe, thin form. You gained a certain thrill from knowing that you could so easily man-handle him, toss him down, and he really wasn’t strong enough to put up much of a fight in return.

His cock, leaking frantically between your legs - was beautiful in its own way. A healthy six inches and nicely thick, his pubes dark, thick and untrimmed. Unkept because he definitely hadn’t been expecting anyone to see him without clothes anytime soon. Charming, in a sense.

Just as Stiles was feeling smothered by the anticipation, by the heated gaze of your eyes running up and down his body, you then leaned to look in his bedside drawer. He wanted to scream for you not to do it, but he had a feeling that it would be breaking your rules; that it would be a ‘bad boy’ thing to do. And that would run the risk of you not touching him at all.

You let out a laugh when you saw what was in the drawer.

“You know, somehow I’m not surprised that this is almost empty.” You told him, bringing out the dwindling bottle of lube and placing it beside him. “You must like it really wet, huh?”

The words were absolutely filthy coming off your lips, intentionally so on your part, but it sounded like a rhetorical question. He swallowed a whimper, but said nothing.

“And this,” You picked up one of the many pictures he had of you in the drawer - one of you in your Halloween costume from last year. Lydia had dared you to wear something ‘slutty’, and you had shown up to her Halloween party in a black leather bra, a leather mini skirt, leather boots, and a pair of cat ears. Stiles had spent most of that night in the bathroom. “I have to say, I’m flattered.”

You have another bright giggle before you put the picture back and then closed the drawer.

“So - you think about me a lot, do you, Stiles?” You asked, scooting back on his thighs until you were sitting on his knees.

Not a rhetorical question.

He swallowed thickly, gathering himself to answer.

“Yes.” He answered, his voice far too weak for his liking. “All the time.”

You hummed thoughtfully at this.

You reached to your waist, untucking your shirt from your skirt before you lifted it off completely over your head, revealing your blue lace bra to him. Dear god, you were so perfect. As you tossed your shirt off to the side, the bra strap slumped down your shoulder and he mourned over not having his hands free, wanting to gently lift it back up, or rip the whole thing off you, wanting to kiss along your shoulder-

“How often do you think about me?” You asked, reaching for the bottle of lube.

Stiles felt a wave of shyness splash up inside of his gut. But he knew that it was useless to deny the truth now. He had already been caught, over and over again. You wouldn’t mock him now if he just admitted it.

You cracked the top on the bottle, and the sound shook his insides - his dog-like mind so well trained to associate the sound with having his dick touched. He licked his lips, viciously trying to get his mouth to work in tandem with his brain. You had asked him to speak. He needed to speak. But that was growing more and more difficult while he stared down the ample cleavage coming out of your bra and shook with the anticipation of you about to touch his cock.

“Every day.” He whimpered out. “All the time, I-”

He let off a choked sound when you poured some lube into your hand and then finally, after years of him dreaming about it, you wrapped a loose, cool, wet grip around the base of his hard, leaking cock. His hips jumped up into your touch and he let out a choked sound from the back of his throat while you continued to look at him with an absolutely wicked grin.

“Stiles,” You said his name in a firm tone, reminding him that he was supposed to be giving you an answer.

“I can’t stop thinking about you!” He shouted, much louder than he had intended to. “All the time, I - I feel like I’m going insane. You’re too perfect, you’re too hot, I-I-I-”

“Hey, shh, baby.” You told him, running the other hand up his thigh in a way that made him gasp.

You used that loose grip on his dick and began jerking him off, spreading the lube across him in the most leisurely way possible. It was a dull pleasure, but one so perfect because it was delivered by you.

He had no clue how absolutely deliberate it was. But of course - everything you did with him was so deliberate, so well planned out to drive him entirely insane.

“How often do you jerk off?”

You asked, curiosity ripe within you as you imagined it: Stiles splayed out on this exact bed, pants around his ankles, his hand wet with lube and creating a sloppy blur on his cock as he jerked off as fast as possible, absolutely desperate to cum - his face twisted with pleasure, his thighs tensing, your name hot on his lips.

You really wanted to know the kind of things he imagined, what made his kinky little mind tick. You wanted to know just how desperate he was to steal your panties in the first place. Did he think that he could get away without you noticing them gone or was he just too horny to care?

You tightened your grip slightly, continuing to drag your hand up and down his dick in long, slow, deliberate strokes. You wanted him hard, throbbing, and desperate - even more so than he already was. You wanted him blinded with pleasure and begging.

“A lot.” He breathed back, bucking his hips up to meet your touch, clearly already needy for more.

You put a firm hand on his hip, pinning him to the bed. You tutted your tongue, scolding him.

“Come on, Stiles.” You said, your tone somewhere between mocking and scolding. “You can be more specific than that.”

You tightened your grip again, your hand now acting like a firm vice around his cock - something that made him moan deeply and close his eyes. You let him enjoy it for a few moments as you stroked him deeply, slowly - spreading the wetness over his cock in deep, pleasurably strokes. For the first time ever, delivering the pleasure of having a hand on his cock that wasn’t his own.

Already, intense pleasure was knotting up in his stomach. Already - he was getting close to cumming.

You could tell that from the way his breathing shallowed out, the way his stomach tensed.

You pulled your hand back completely, leaving him to let out a confused sound and pop his eyes open at top speed, craning his neck up to look at you with utter disappointment while you continued to grin at him.

“Tell me.” You instructed firmly. “How many times a week do you make yourself cum?” You continued your interrogation. When his face flashed with a streak of guilt, you changed the question. “How many times a day?”

Stiles took a sharp breath.

Again, he felt caught.

“Twice.” He said it quietly, before gathering his courage. “Twice - twice a day. Usually… once in the morning and once at night.”

You giggled. “Needy boy.”

He was rewarded with your touch back on his cock. He let out a deep, satisfied moan as you started jerking him off again, wet and smooth, a bit faster this time. It created a lovely wet noise and he let out another moan when he heard it.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself, Stiles?” You asked, your voice low and sultry - warm, inviting him to the possibilities.

Perhaps, if he told you about the things he thought about, his most private and guarded thoughts, then you might make them come true.

“You.” He moaned back almost instantly - trying to buck up into your touch again but being held down by you again. “I - I only think about you. I swear.”

You licked your lips.

It was something you loved to hear. But you yearned for more details.

“Cute.” You sighed. “As flattering as that is, babe, I want specifics.” You pressed. “Specific fantasies. Come on, you must have kinks,”

If he had to summarize it - his kink was you.

And it was growing increasingly difficult to think with your hand pumping on his cock.

“Your - your thighs!” Stiles blurted out frantically, saying the first thing that he thought of.

Even now, feeling the heavy, warm fat of your thighs spread across his knees, had his cock jumping in your hand - had him buzzing and dizzy all over. It was one of his favourite parts about you, something that made him hard if your thighs brushed against him when the two of you sat too close together on the couch during a movie night.

“Your thighs are so - so thick, and beautiful, and big, and-” He choked off into a moan when you moved your other hand to his balls, spreading some of the lube there and gently massaging them in a way that sent a jolt through his whole body, practically making him seize off the bed.

You let out a giggle.

“What else, baby?”

His cock was hot and pulsing in your hand, and you knew he was close again. But you wanted him to get right to the edge before you cut him off this time.

“I - I think about - about having your thighs wrapped around my head,”

He choked out, stuttering as he began humping into your touch, so desperate to cum. He had pretty much forgotten about your earlier rules by now, had forgotten about asking for permission, and he just needed to cum into your touch. He needed it so badly.

“I wanna eat you out so badly. I wanna taste you. I wanna eat your pussy. Please, please, please, please-!”

This visceral begging tipped you off to the orgasmic delirium he was tipping into, and you squeezed your touch sharply around the base of his cock to keep him from cumming, even going so far as to give his balls a light tap in punishment. He let out a bitter gasp as his orgasm was sharply cut off, the feeling drowned bitterly in his stomach. It left his muscles so tight and left him flailing against his binds for a moment, squirming chaotically underneath you.

“Bad boy.” You scolded him, your voice wicked and causing his dick to throb woefully in your unforgiving touch. “You didn’t ask if you could cum.”

You leaned down and bit one of his nipples - pure teeth, unforgiving, and it made him cry out in a gargle of his own spit as his head became even dizzier. He didn’t even have the mental capacity to question why he liked the sharp spike of pain so much, especially not when his balls were throbbing so terribly, and he needed to cum so fucking badly.

“Please?!” He cried out. “Please? Can I cum? I need it, I need-”

“Shh, baby.”

You hushed him again, taking your hand off his dick and leaving it to rest leaking against his stomach, running both your hands up his torso in a soothing touch as you leaned in and pressed a few sweet kisses on his open, whining mouth.

“I’ll give you a chance to be good. Is that what you want?”

“Please.” He replied, so desperate that he was on the verge of tears now. “I wanna be good for you, please.”

“I’m gonna ride your pretty cock now. And if you wait to cum until I tell you,” You pressed these words hard, making sure he paid attention to this part. “Then I’ll let you eat my pussy. Does that sound like a good reward?”

“Yes.” He replied, entirely breathy and excited. “Please, please. I’ll be good.”

“Oh, baby. I know you will.”

This spilled from your lips as an overly syrupy coo, and he couldn’t help but to yearn for more of that sound.

You got off him, then, and he let out an utterly disappointed sound - instantly missing your weight and the heat of you above him.

Stiles looked on with curiosity as you went back to your bag. His heart thumped with anticipation when you came back with a condom, and didn’t hesitate to open it and then roll it onto his still very stiff cock. (Just the few touches of you doing this had him warming with even more pleasure, and he worried that the touch of your pussy around him would cause him to cum instantly, disappointing you.)

Then, he watched in awe as you stripped off. Your skirt, tights, and underwear, giving him a pang of disappointment that you left your bra on. You did this with intention, though, slightly worried that the sight of your bare tits would cause him to blow it too early.

“Oh my god.” Stiles let out another whimper as you straddled him once again, putting a hand on his cock to line it up with your pussy.

Fuck, holy fuck - this was really happening. He was really about to fuck you. He was about to fuck your perfect pussy.

It was just as beautiful as he had imagined - covered in trimmed hair, which was glossy with your wetness. Fuck - he yearned to see that pussy spread out underneath him. He yearned to taste you. Even just feeling the heat coming off you as you lined up the tip, even through the condom - it was deadly.

He was not going to survive this.

He squeezed his eyes tight and held his breath, and you didn’t like that. You used your free hand to give him a light tap on the cheek - some small semblance of a slap, a grounding reminder that you were there, controlling him.

“Hey, come on. Look at me.”

Your words forced him to open his eyes, and he easily fell into a streak of obedience, eager to please you. His eyes snapped open and he looked right at you - absolutely enamored by your pretty face.

“Good boy.”

He let out another whimper at the praise.

Then, you finally lowered yourself down onto his cock, sinking down in one smooth movement until you were fully seated - tightly wrapped around his dick and resting against his bony pelvis.

He felt like the air had been punched out of him. That perfect, tight heat being wrapped around him - the wetness leaking out around his skin at the base of his dick, everything squeezing his cock like a vice, like you were made to fit him. It made him so dizzy, stole the air out of his lungs. It was all too perfect.

“Oh. Oh. Oh god-” He gasped out, squirming underneath you, already intensely overwhelmed by the pleasure.

You grabbed his jaw in one hand and held him still for another kiss, and he moaned hotly into your mouth, desperation growing inside of him.

You started slowly grinding your hips into his pelvis, wanting to warm him up gently. As you pulled away from the kiss, he was panting frantically against your mouth, already overwhelmed.

“Hey, shh.” You told him, smoothing your hands over his torso once again. “You gonna be good for me?”

“Yes.” He quickly moaned in return, nodding his head eagerly.

This was a side of Stiles that you had so quickly grown to love. You knew that you weren’t going to get enough of this - this beautiful soft obedience. Especially compared to usual sarcastic abrasiveness.

This was your good boy. And you were going to have such a good time training him, having him learn the rules. You were heavily looking forward to shutting down his future quips on a dime with a simple threat of keeping future orgasms from him.

You positioned your weight on your knees, then, and began lifting yourself off his cock halfway before you slammed your hips back down. You put your hands on either side of his head, between where his arms were stationed above him, still tangled up in the scarf and unable to move. After a moment, you built up a good, even pace - not quite gentle, but not entirely rough either.

You were taking it easy on him for his first time.

Stiles continued letting out shocked pants, sounding like a man drowning on dry land, hurriedly gasping for air. Soon, he began moaning as more wild pleasure was driven through his body from the feeling of your wet pussy gripping around his cock; from the feeling of you bouncing against his balls, from the sound of that perfect wet slap every single time you landed down on him.

It caused a terrible need to brew in his stomach, and he knew it wouldn’t be long now.

All too soon, he was going to cum.

“Please!” He moaned out, trying to buck his hips up to meet yours - his muscles shaking so terribly that he couldn’t keep up with your pace and ended up just jostling wildly underneath you. “Please, please!”

You grinned.

You knew that you wouldn’t cum from this, but you were deeply enjoying yourself anyway. Stiles looked so pretty - so pathetic and pretty - gritting his teeth to try and hold back his sounds (which wasn’t working at all), tears rimming his eyes, a few even slipping out, his face tinging a lovely shade of pink from the exertion and the pure arousal.

“Please ‘what’, baby?”

You pressed, a slight edge of mocking on your voice that punched another harsh wave of arousal through his gut. It took everything he had in those moments not to cum - to hold it back. To be good for you.

“Come on, sweetheart. You can say it. Just say the words-”

“Please lemme cum,” He whined out, the words practically turning into a slur on his lips - mirroring exactly the way he had been begging to a fictional you as he had pumped his cock while sitting on this very bed not too long ago. “Please, please, please Y/N, please-”

You leaned down to his ear then, whispering the words he so badly wanted to hear.

“Cum for me, Stiles.”

But this time it was so very real.

With your permission given, his brain fired off, finally allowing himself to let it go. He let out a guttural, almost non-human sound as he humped his hips off the bed in harsh, fast strokes while you fucked down onto him tightly, roughly grinding into him to allow him to get the most out of it. Wanting him to have the most pressure from your hot cunt in those moments while his eyes rolled back into his head and he released a thick load into the condom.

He was even pretty like this - his mouth wide open, his long lashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks, his chest heaving as he released a concert of beautiful, whorish sounds.

When his hips stopped and his noises dissolved off into a more gentle panting, you leaned down to kiss him again. He most definitely deserved it.

“Good boy.” You mumbled against his mouth, eager to praise him. “Such a good boy for me. You did so good.”

This caused another sound from him, and you simply smiled as he began to kiss you back, eager and sloppy, smearing spit across your cheek while you reached up and began untying the knot in the scarf you had secured him with.

“You want your reward now?” You asked him.

You couldn’t lie, your cunt was thrumming at the idea of him getting between your thighs. You wondered if he would be able to make you cum. He seemed eager to please and so far, he was good at following instructions, so you could probably tell him exactly what to do to get you off. Even if he couldn’t, you would certainly enjoy the view.

“Yes, yes, please.” He moaned against your cheek, that desperation thrashing back up inside of him. “Please, I’ve been good, please-”

“Yes, you have been.” You soothed him again. “Good boy.”

You released him from the binds and then finally got off him, allowing his softening cock to pop free from your pussy - something that caused him to loudly moan.

You took off the condom and tossed it into the waste basket that he had by his desk, the lube and cum seeping into the crumbled up, forgotten papers that he had there. When you came back to the bed, he was looking at you with wide, eager eyes, waiting for his next instruction. Such a good boy. You really loved how this was turning out.

“I’m gonna lay down, and then you can get between my legs. Okay, baby?”

He nodded eagerly again, and hopped off the bed to give you room, nearly tripping over his own feet in doing so.

You fluffed up his pillow and then laid down, spreading your legs wide, and when you looked back to him, he was tracing every single inch of your body with a wide-eyed gaze. His mouth was agape once again, absolutely not hiding the fact that he was absolutely lustful for you, becoming utterly distracted by the sight of you (almost completely) naked in his bed, laid out just for him.

“Stiles.” You called his name, garnering his attention once again. “Come on, baby.”

You held out an arm, signaling for him to come over, and he eagerly climbed into the bed between your thighs.

You thought for sure that he would make himself comfortable down between your thighs and get right to tasting you, as eagerly as he had begged for it before, but it was his turn to surprise you now.

“Please, can you-?” He cut himself off shyly, tracing a single finger along the cup of the bra that you still wore, the last scrap of clothing hiding your body from him. “Can you take it off?”

That sent a thrill through you. Rather than being demanding, he was still so trepidatious - wondering if he had tread too far by asking you to remove clothing, even after you had ridden his cock.

Still, you couldn’t help but to want to tease him - just a little bit more.

“You wanna see my tits?” You asked, running your hands up your body, teasing your fingers along the edges of the bra cups as if threatening to pull them down. “You wanna… play with my tits, Stiles?”

“Yes.” Stiles breathed out, entirely eager.

You could see his cock swelling back to life between his thighs already.

“Do you think you’ve been a good enough boy for that?” You questioned, lustful eagerness in your voice.

His answer would entirely dictate whether or not you took the bra off.

He swallowed thickly, still nervous, his eyes flickering between your cleavage and your own eyes, as if looking for a hint at the answer. He waited a careful moment, and then finally spoke.

“Yes.” He said, pausing for a moment as if waiting for you to argue the point before he continued. “Yes, please, I’ve been good.”

“Hmm…” You said, pretending to think. “Alright.”

You reached up behind you, unhooking your bra and tossing it away. When your naked breasts were finally revealed to him, his tongue lolled out of his mouth in an almost puppy-like way, his eyes nearly bulging out of his head as he stared hungrily at the roundness of your perfect flesh.

This time, he didn’t even ask you before he made his next move - entirely fueled by his own eagerness and desire, he swept down and sucked one of your nipples into his mouth. Instantly, he let out a loud moan around your tit that told you just how much he was enjoying this, something that had your pussy getting wetter as you saw the way his eyes drifted closed with bliss while he sloppily laved his tongue over your skin.

He was so fucking cute, so fucking pretty - so fucking perfect like this.

He continued like this for a few moments before he trailed a line of sloppy kisses to the other tit and began sucking on that one, feeling the need to give both beautiful girls equal attention. He licked his tongue across the skin in a fat trail that had you tingling, that had your cunt clenching. You were glad he was enjoying himself, but it was making the space between your thighs feel rather neglected.

“Stiles, baby,” You called out, starting to sound a bit breathy from need yourself. You raked your nails gently across his scalp again, causing him to let out another moan. “You said you were gonna eat my pussy, right? You don’t wanna disappoint me - do you, baby?”

He popped off your tit immediately.

“Not gonna disappoint you.” He said in a hurried tone, shaking his head.

You pulled him in for another kiss, and when you released him, he rushed down to get comfortable between your legs, which you spread even more, dropping your foot off the bed on one side to give him more room.

Your pussy was so gorgeous.

So much better than he had dreamed of - wet, gleaming, smeared in your own juices and slightly gaped from his cock. A sight that absolutely thrilled him - seeing exactly where he had been, knowing that he had fucked you, he had been inside of you.

The smell of your pretty cunt was something more unique than your sweat or perfume like he had originally thought. He leaned in eagerly and licked a fat, wide stripe from where you were fluttering and open all the way up to your mound, getting his first real taste of you - he let out a loud moan as it fully penetrated his senses, as everything that was you spread across his tongue for the first time.

You were so fucking perfect. You tasted so fucking perfect.

You let out a moan of your own when Stiles moaned against you again, the vibrations radiating through your sensitive core. This time, he latched into your clit, seemingly knowing that swollen bead was his ticket to success without you even having to tell him. He sucked harshly on it for a moment that made your thighs twitch and threaten to close around his head before he began digging his tongue against it, lapping at your cunt, trying to suck all the taste off it that he could.

“Good boy,” You moaned, reaching out and cradling the back of his head (not having much hair to grab onto with the short buzzcut that he had) - keeping him tight against your pussy, not that he seemed intent to pull away any time soon. “Such a good boy. Good boy for me!”

He wasn’t particularly skilled - it was obvious from a mile away that he didn’t have any experience, but fuck, he more than made up for it with his pure eagerness. He was eating your pussy like it was his last meal, moaning against you like he was getting more pleasure from this than you were - and hell, maybe he was.

He didn’t back off or complain when you instinctively bucked your hips against his face. In fact, he seemed to take it in stride, downright enjoying the way your warm juices were smeared across his cheeks and chin, his eyes shut in bliss as he tongued openly across your cunt, his drool mixing with your wetness while he moaned against you.

“Oh, fuck! Stiles!”

He moaned harder at the sound of his own name on your lips, so beautifully pornographic, better than he had dreamed it would be - even when he had imagined it so many times over and over again. Somehow, even when you thought he might not get you there at all, his eager performance and the vibrations from his moans against your clit had you so close already.

“Got me so close, baby,” You moaned, scratching the back of his head. “Such a good boy, so close-”

He moaned in response and tongued more vigorously at your clit, and you worked your hips against him, practically riding his face in order to bring yourself over the edge.

“Fuck! Stiles!”

You let out a throaty moan as you came, beautiful pleasure surging through your body while your back arched against the bed. Inadvertently shoving your hips even closer to his face, making him even more beautifully messy while he sucked and licked you. He loved the feeling of your body twitching and seizing underneath him, he loved hearing your gorgeous moans, he loved knowing that he had made you cum.

He lowered his face down and shoved his tongue inside you, determined to drink right from the source then, his nose bumping against your now orgasm-sensitive clit unintentionally, making you shout loudly. This further smothered him in your essence in a way that he loved, while he shoved his tongue inside of you as far as he possibly could, absolutely loving the way your pussy fluttered around him, the way your taste overwhelmed his senses, the pure heat smothering his face.

“Baby, baby-”

You gasped and struggled for air, knowing that he wasn’t overstimulating you on purpose - he was just eager. And that thought alone was so overwhelmingly hot to you that you almost let him continue. But your clit thrummed with an ache of protest, and you knew that you couldn’t spoil him this much, this soon. You couldn’t handle having a spoiled brat on your hands.

“Baby, you have to come up now!” You ordered sharply, digging your nails into his shoulder as a warning, adding a tiny bite of pain to fully get his attention.

Stiles let out a tiny whine of disappointment, but did as he was told, finally unlatching himself from your cunt. This move made a sinfully wet sound as he pushed himself up with his hands to sit between your thighs on his knees. Your eyes were immediately drawn to his once again hard, throbbing pink cock smearing precum against his stomach.

You had a passing thought about telling him to grab another condom, but again - you didn’t need to spoil him so soon.

You had another idea instead.

“Oh baby,” You cooed, reaching out and loosely gripping his cock, causing him to let out a shuddering moan and buck into your hand furiously - which didn’t give him much sensation, only teased him more. “You got really excited from that, didn’t you?”

He nodded vigorously, his mind completely mush at this point, too weak to form words.

“Do you wanna get off against my thigh?” You purred, gently stroking your knuckles across his temple - feeling a wicked kind of joy in seeing his face smeared in your wetness, especially when paired with the dumb, glossy look in his eyes.

He almost dared to ask for more - wanting to fuck you again, to put his cock between your tits and fuck them - but he had a feeling that you wouldn’t let him get away with it. And he wanted to be your good boy so badly. So he was willing to take whatever you had to give him.

“Yes.” He croaked out, his voice slightly hoarse now from all the moaning. “Yes, please.”

“Good boy.” You grinned at him. “Come on.”

You moved your leg - already slightly stiff from how long he had been between them, stretched around his shoulders - and slotted your thigh between his. You raised it up slightly, gently propping the broadness of your flesh against his aching balls and his hard, leaking cock.

“Wait, I want-”

He looked around for a moment, and then grabbed up the bottle of lube where it had falling on the floor from the vigor of your fucking. He poured a good deal of it (almost emptying it) over his cock, letting it leak down over your thigh, before he capped it and threw it away again.

You smiled.

“You really do like it wet, don’t you?”

He simply nodded, and began moving his hips. Instinctively, you reached out and grabbed him, taking a commanding hold on those narrow hips to guide him. He easily fell under your control, letting you guide his pace - which meant he moved in slow, languid, sloppy, wet (thanks to the lube) movements across your thigh - his cock dragging against your skin in a way that was delicious, but almost not enough at the same time.

He began letting out whimpers, his face twisting with pleasure and the need for something more as his gut curled with a distinctive ache. As if sensing this, even unconsciously, you couldn’t help your mouth.

“You look so pretty like this,” You told him, hot and breathy.

Turns out - that was the something ‘more’ he so desperately needed. Hearing you call him ‘pretty’ would have been an insult on any other day, but today, it was downright delicious. Your voice curling around the word, directed at him - it felt like something he had been waiting to hear his whole life.

“I love seeing you get off against my thigh, rubbing your pretty cock against me,”

Stiles let out a moan and you felt him fighting to move faster, so you encouraged it, pushing and pulling his hips faster, causing more delicious friction on his cock.

“Please, please-” He gasped.

You knew it wouldn’t take much more.

“You know, I’ve probably been waiting for this just as long as you have,” You whispered lowly in his ear, finally confessing your secret. “I’ve been watching you every single day, seeing how wonderful and dumb you are when you stare at me for hours, thinking I don’t notice. And I’ve just been waiting to pin you up against something and fuck your pretty little brains out-”

Your words were cut off by him crying out, a wet splash against your thigh that had alerted you to him cumming. This was almost pathetic, just a few spurts of cum before it was over (you guessed that with how often he jerked off and from the fucking earlier, you had practically drained his balls). It made you curious if forcing him to abstain from masturbation for a few days would yield more impressive results.

An experiment for later, you guessed.

“Good boy.”

You pulled him into another kiss, ultimately satisfied by the end result of your plan - leaving your panties on your bed as bait for Stiles to find as a way to gently tip him off to your attraction to him. It had worked out in the very best way. Even if you had to wait more than a week for the wheels to truly set in motion.

…

After a joint shower (which was filled with Stiles grinning at you, clearly soaking up the beauty of his luck in landing someone as gorgeous as you) - you changed the sheets on the bed while he made something to eat, and after the two of you ate together, you tucked him in to go to sleep.

He was disappointed that you couldn’t stay the night, just as excited to do other non sexual things with you like wake up in your arms and hold your hand in the hallways at school - but you did have to get home before your curfew. Just as he was dosing off, you kissed him on the forehead, and you thought of something delightfully naughty for him to wake up to, even if you couldn’t be there.

You took off the underwear that you were wearing - a pair of lacy blue ones, to match your bra - and you pinned them up on his corkboard for him to find in the morning.

A perfect little present for your good boy.

…

The next morning, Stiles woke up to a knock on his bedroom door.

“Okay, rise n shine, kid, time for-”

His father’s voice cut off abruptly, and Stiles didn’t have time to ponder why before-

“Dear god, what the hell is that?”

Stiles shot up out of bed, practically falling on the floor, wondering what it could be - monster, werewolf, hunter, someone with a gun-

His eyes landed exactly where his dad was looking, and he was relieved not to find danger, and then terribly embarrassed to see your underwear from the day before pinned to his corkboard, spread out in plain view. Stiles immediately went into damage control mode.

“Look, Dad, I can explain-”

“You know what? I don’t wanna know.” His dad said firmly, making a motion with his hand that said he was brushing away the subject. “Just - get ready for school.”

His dad moved to leave the room, and then he sighed and paused in the doorway, turning back to Stiles in a way that made his gut churn.

“Just - did you use protection?”

Stiles almost offered to show his father the used condom that was still sitting in the trash can - even if only as proof that the night before he had a real, living girl in his room. But he figured that would be going too far.

“Yes.” He answered, calm and short.

His dad nodded, and moved to leave again. He made it a bit further down the hallway this time before he turned around and appeared in the doorway again.

“Son - you know, women aren’t objects, you can’t claim them like sexual conquests, and they deserve respect-”

“Dad.” Stiles sharply cut off whatever speech his father was about to give, wanting his father to know that he hadn’t pinned the underwear to the corkboard himself. He wasn’t some fratboy who celebrated getting laid with a fucking trophy.

“She - she gave them to me.” He said. “She did that.” He motioned to the underwear, and his father’s face shifted from anger to deep discomfort.

“Oh.” He said simply. “Well - I - okay. I don’t wanna know any more.” He said firmly. “And for god’s sake, son, take them down.”

Stiles nodded, rushing to do so.

He was going to take them down - but he wasn’t rushing to give them back to you anytime soon.

...

Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and this has a distinct, intentional ending. There will NOT be a continuation or a 'Part 3'. If you enjoyed this fic, please consider reblogging it to show your appreciation, or commenting on this fic, or you can take a look at my Teen Wolf Masterlist for more of my fics from this fandom.

However, please do not comment on this fic asking for another sequel or asking for more - I generally consider that stressful and impolite. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has been written.

If you enjoyed this fic, please consider checking out my other fics about the criminally underrated character Isaac. Fics similar to this one are: Eager Little Puppy and Why Am I The One?

Or if you want more fics about subby boys, consider checking out Tongue Twister, Stop? (Baby, Don't Stop), or Lessons For A Genius.

Happy reading!! -Sunny <3

#sundrop writes #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinksi smut #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinksi fanfiction #stiles x reader #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinski x reader #stiles stilinksi x reader #stiles stilinksi x fem!reader #teen wolf smut

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bunnis-monsters · 2 months ago

Text

A witch and her werewolf Pt1

Male!Werewolf x Fem!Witch Reader

Bunni’s Monstertober Event

Oct 25th

Oct 19

Oct 26

summary: You meet a lone wolf in the woods, and realize he’s more than you thought.

a/n: this is a reskin of a Kurapika x reader fic I wrote, but never got past the first chapter. If you want a continuation, please comment or send me a Kofi.

WK: 5k+

It was finally spring, a time where flowers bloomed and the snow melted away to reveal all kinds of herbs and plants for the little witch (Name) to gather.

Today she was doing just that, gathering herbs to begin making more potions. Through the winter, her stock of salves and potions had grown smaller and smaller, until she only had a few left.

(Name) had customers that would be coming by any day now to buy her goods, so she was determined to go out and hunt for all the ingredients she would need.

She was a good witch, focusing on healing salves and helping the villagers nearby. It was partially out of the goodness of her heart, and partly because she wanted to keep a good relationship with the townspeople so they didn’t grab their pitchforks and torches to chase her out of town with.

So (Name) grabbed her hat, wearing a thick pair of boots to protect her feet from the thorny vegetation. She was always careful when visiting the forest. After all, there were rumors that many magical beasts made it their home.

Along the path, she spotted small clusters of mint, frowning. “Mint is so invasive, I thought I told the villagers not to plant it in the ground…”

(Name) did her best to dig up and pick what she could, then moved on along the path. Mushrooms, herbs, and pretty rocks all found a new home in her basket. After searching for a while, she wiped the sweat from her brow. ‘Hmm… I should still have some time to go by the lake before I go home… I wonder if anything is growing near the water's edge..?’

(Name) stepped on a branch as she neared the lake, ready to search for aquatic plant life and maybe even find a good spot to go fishing!

But before she could get too close, (Name) heard a loud howl that made her freeze in her tracks. When she turned, she spotted it.

There was a large, golden wolf near the water’s edge, its ears pinned back and snarling. From the water dripping from its furry chin, the witch assumed it had just been drinking from the lake before she interrupted it by making noise.

She was quick to hold up her hands in a sign of surrender, talking in an even voice. “Easy, boy, I’ll go,”

Backing up slowly, (Name) made sure not to meet the wolf’s eyes, though she did notice they were a sparkling shade of scarlet she had never seen before.

The beast huffed, watching her for a moment longer before turning back to drink. Once it did, she broke out in a sprint, her basket held firmly against her chest. (Name) knew the forest wasn’t exactly safe, but she had never encountered a wild animal besides some chipmunks and bunnies.

‘I’ve never seen a wolf with that coloration before…’ (Name) thought, putting away her foraged goods once she arrived home. ‘Maybe it’s an albino or something? But wouldn’t it’s fur be more white then?’

Despite being a little afraid, (Name) couldn’t get her mind off of the wolf she had seen before. It was easily the top predator in the forest, yet it only gave her a warning growl before minding its business again. Was that normal wolf behavior? She had no idea.

‘I’m thinking too much…’ (Name) thought, changing into her pajamas. ‘I need to sleep, or I’ll be late to the coven meeting tomorrow…’

Turning over, (Name) wondered what exactly she would even speak about during the meeting. She wasn’t exactly the most confident witch, often being spoken over or ignored due to her shy nature. No one would think she was the very first apprentice Ania Quell, the head of the very coven (Name) was a part of.

‘I may have been her first apprentice, but I’m definitely not her best. Miles and Gil have me beat for sure…’ she thought, rolling over onto her side to stare out of the window.

Through the gaps in the curtains, she could see the moon shining up above, big and full. It’s light bathed her in a soft glow, and made her feel both rejuvenated and relaxed.

‘It’ll be okay… after all, I have friends there. Everything should… be fine…’

(Name) drifted off to sleep, the last image on her mind before she was taken to slumberland being the golden wolf peering at her with those scarlet eyes.

—————

(Name) packed a small basket full of jams and jellies, humming a tune as she carefully stacked a small jar of syrup on the top. “I know Jill won’t be there today, but Ania loves my jams and jellies. Hopefully I’ll actually have a chance to speak with her…”

Ania, being the head of the coven, was always busy. She was usually stuck talking with several other witches about various topics, or leaving early to conduct business with other covens. Getting the opportunity to talk to her was rare enough, but being able to sit down and have a conversation was nearly impossible, especially these days.

There had recently been several cases of witches and their familiars disappearing, or even familiars turning on their masters and killing them, so Ania was especially busy dealing with the aftermath.

Each witch had a familiar bestowed upon them during a ceremony after becoming a full fledged witch. Some even had two or three, and witches with high status and great power possessed up to 10 familiars.

And there was (Name), with no familiar at all. At the ceremony, the wizard conducting it simply turned her away, saying she was not yet ready to become the master of familiar. Every other witch present had received their lifelong friend, while she went home empty handed.

It was lonely, all on her own. Watching the other witches go about their lives with the help and support of their familiars made her feel awfully… jealous. It wasn’t a feeling she enjoyed harboring, so (Name) tried her best to be positive!

Ania herself had said that it wasn’t unheard of for a witch to not receive their familiar during the bonding ceremony.

“Some witches just haven’t found their match yet, or perhaps they haven’t really found their true selves,” Ania had said after the ceremony, in hopes of comforting (Name).

(Name) huffed, loading her basket onto her broom. “So much for being a late bloomer. It’s been nearly five years since I became a full fledged witch, and still nothing! No familiar, not a cat or owl, not even a frog! Hell, I’d settle for a tarantula at this point!”

She flew over the forest, tilting her head when she spotted a spot of gold walking slowly near the lake. (Name) flew a bit lower, her eyes widening when she spotted the same wolf she’d seen the day before.

This time, it seemed to be walking with a bit of a limp, a small trail of blood behind it. Her heart ached to see an animal in such pain, so she landed a safe distance away from it.

“Hey there, pup.”

The wolf stiffened, quickly turning its head to growl lowly at her. (Name) held up her hands, her broom floating behind her in case she needed a quick escape.

“Woah, easy. You’re hurt, and I can help you if you’ll let me.”

She didn’t know why she was talking to it, but she kept it up. “There’s no need to be afraid, sweetheart. Shh…”

The wolf’s ears flattened against its head, and it began to bare its teeth. (Name) yelped when it began to approach her, jumping on her broom just in time to escape its jaws. It snapped at her broom bristles, but she was thankfully in the air by then and bar away enough from its jaws to not get hurt.

But… the wolf didn’t seem to be trying too hard to chase her. (Name) had a feeling it wasn’t actually attacking her, more so just trying to scare her away.

She frowned as the wolf became a small speck, her heart hurting for the poor thing. (Name) hoped that the poachers that her fellow witches had chased out from the forest years ago weren’t back.

‘I’ll have to talk to Ania about it… if I can talk to her that is.’

—————

(Name) landed in a vast meadow, wild flowers of various kinds softly swaying in the spring breeze. She took a moment to relax, bending down to pick a daily and place it in her basket.

‘Oh, I always forget where the doorway is…’ she thought to herself as she held out the stick end of her broom to feel around. When it bumped off of something solid, she grinned.

“There it is!”

(Name) reached forward and patted the surface until her hand landed on a doorknob. She turned it, and walked forward.

The empty flower field was replaced with a dark forested area, with lampposts leading down a snowy, worn down path. She could see the moon shining down through the canopy, filtered by the thick leaves until only small rays of light were visible.

‘I see the meeting is being hosted in the northern lands this time…’ she thought, pulling her cloak tighter around herself. The northern lands were often cold, even when spring came, snow still covered the land.

Each meeting was hosted in one of the four sectors of the world, North, South, East, and West. The north was her least favorite, due to the cold weather and people. The citizens of the north were often blunt and rude, having to time for warm pleasantries.

(Name) lived in the southern lands, where the weather was always warm and pleasant. Even the most severe winters in the south were not as cold as the northern spring.

She spotted the soft warm glow of a candle shining from a canon window. ‘There it is!’

(Name) opened the cabin door, revealing a bustling meeting hall. Witches all ages and genders walked around, speaking to one another and trading goods.

“(Name)!”

The woman yelped when she was tackled to the floor, knowing instantly who had done it.

“Miles, what did I tell you about jumping on her like some wild animal!?”

“Miles, Gil…” she smiled as she watched Gil drag his friend off of her, pinching his cheek.

“Hi, (Name)! It’s been so long since we’ve gotten to see you!”

She laughed, ruffling their hair. “Yeah, nearly three months. You weren’t able to attend the last few meetings due to Ania’s training, right?”

The two shuddered. “Uh… we’d rather not talk about that.”

(Name) could remember her own training, which would have been way less intense than theirs due to her weaker body. Even so, she collapsed nearly every day from exhaustion, so she could only imagine the horrors they had endured.

“Ah… okay, how about you show me how your training has been coming along then?”

The three sat in an empty room as the two showed her new, complex spells they had learned. Gil was able to summon lightning and use it as a weapon, while Miles was able to harden his body. Both were spells even she couldn’t do.

“Oh wow, you’ve grown so much! Maybe that training was worth it then?”

Gil groaned. “Barely, I didn’t think we were going to survive another day of it.”

“Aww, it wasn’t that b- no, actually it was that bad. But I’m still grateful Ania taught us so well!” Miles replied, giving her a smile.

She gave them both a hug. “I’m proud of you both. You should really come visit me sometime. Spring is here, so you can go play in the forest. There a lake~”

This excited the two, who both enjoyed swimming. “We'll definitely be coming by this summer!”

Before they could speak anymore, they heard a bell chiming. “Oh, we’ll talk later. The meeting is about to start!”

(Name) took her seat near Ania. As her first apprentice, she had to be at Ania’s side for every meeting. That didn’t mean she got Ania’s attention, though. She couldn’t blame her mentor, for she was the leader of this coven.

“Hello, my friends. Our monthly meeting has begun, and I will announce any upcoming events before opening the floor for discussion.”

(Name) looked around the room, unsurprised when she saw multiple witches waiting impatiently for the floor to be open.

It was mostly the same elderly witches that always had some mundane problem… but what was surprising was Ember, one of the fledgling witches that hadn’t yet gotten her familiar, anxiously tapping her well manicured nails against the oak table.

“And with that, the floor is open to discussion.” Ania said after finishing her announcements. Ember was quick to speak up, interrupting an elder.

“Some creature has been lurking in the south, killing my father’s livestock and scaring what it doesn’t eat half to death! It’s some kind of magical beast, I already did the identifying spell and it’s either some type of fae or a…”

She trailed off, her face going pale. Ania raised an eyebrow, folding her arms. “A what, Ember?”

“A… a werewolf.”

The sound of gasps and whispered conversation filled the meeting hall, only silenced when Ania held up her hand to motion for the noise to cease.

“And you’re sure that’s what the spell said?”

Ember nodded, standing up to offer her grimoire. Ania’s eyes scanned it, then she sighed heavily. “I see…”

(Name) frowned deeply, glancing from ember to Ania. She knew that Ember lived only half a day’s walk from her home, meaning if there was a werewolf causing trouble for her, it could potentially move onto (Name).

“As we all know, magical beasts are drawn to witches due to their magical power. This is good when it comes to making friends or getting a familiar, but leads to some… detrimental outcomes when the wrong creature gets attracted. And with the recent uptick in werewolf based attacks, I wouldn’t doubt this has troubled you, Ember.”

Ania stood, walking around the table. “But be that as it may, werewolves are not evil in nature. They are simply beings that are different from us, and can be reasoned with and befriended just like most magical beasts.”

One witch scoffed. “Miss Ania, with all due respect, all witches know werewolves are dangerous beasts that deserve to be put down to keep ourselves safe. I mean, haven’t the last three witch deaths been caused by werewolves?”

Ania scowled. “That’s the kind of attitude that causes entire species to go extinct. A few werewolves have done wrong, yes, but how many humans have killed each other or other creatures? Do we all deserve to die due to the actions of a few individuals?”

The witch who spoke up immediately shrunk into herself, grumbling under her breath. (Name) noticed that several other witches also looked displeased with Ania’s words, but said nothing.

“Ember, I’ll send you home with a spell that will ward off any fae or werewolves. It’s easy, and very effective.”

“Thank you, Ania!”

The woman turned to the rest of the coven. “Now, what else needs to be discussed?”

———————-

“I respect Miss Ania’s opinion, but werewolves are dangerous beasts!”

“I know, right? My friend’s cousin’s aunt’s stepbrother was killed by a werewolf!”

“And I heard that once a werewolf has seen you, it’ll tell its whole pack to come and eat you!”

“Oh that’s not the half of it! I heard-“

(Name) rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping witches, ushering Gil and Miles away. “Don’t listen to them, I’m sure not a single one of them have ever even seen a werewolf in person.”

“Have you, (Name)?”

(Name) paused when Miles asked her that innocent question, sighing softly. “Yes, once before. It was only for a moment while Ania went to meet with one for a trade. It gave her some of its fur for a potion in exchange for a protection spell.”

“So… it didn’t attack you or Ania?”

“Nope, so don’t listen to those witches. Not one single creature is the exact same as its kin. Some are more peaceful, some are violent, just like with humans. Once people come to accept that, we could possibly form an alliance with the werewolves.”

Gil huffed, digging in her satchel. Once he found what he was looking for, a bag of handmade candy, he swiped it. “Hey, you remembered to bring it!”

“Of course I did, silly. It’s your favorite.”

Gil popped one of the candies into his mouth as they walked, humming in delight. Miles grabbed one too. “Did you get to talk to Ania, (Name)?”

The woman sighed, handing out her jam and syrup to a few witches she traded with. “Not yet, but I hope I’ll be able to catch her before she leaves. You know Ania, she’s always busy.”

“You’re not wrong, but today I have a little bit of time to spare.”

The three jumped when they heard Ania’s voice from behind them. “Ania!”

(Name) jumped into her arms, easily being held up by the seemingly young looking girl. Everyone in the coven knew that Ania was much older than she seemed, but little knew of her immense physical strength.

“Oh, (Name) my dear, you’ve gotten a bit bigger haven't you? It feels like just yesterday I was carrying you home from the orphanage and giving you your first wand.”

“A-Ania! That’s embarrassing…”

The woman laughed, setting (Name) down. “Alright, alright… what is it you wanted to talk about, dear?”

(Name) gave Ania a shy smile, handing her the jams and jellies she brought for her. “I wanted to give you these and ask how the situation with the rogue familiars has been going.”

Ania stiffened, glancing at the two boys before digging. “Come, (Name). Let’s discuss things in private.”

With a wave of her wand, (Name) and Ania were transported to a vacant room. Ania made sure the door was closed before beginning to speak in a hushed voice.

“I didn’t want to scare anyone, so I’ve been keeping some of the information private. But…” she sighed, looking out the window, into the snow. “Every single familiar that attacked their witch was a werewolf.”

(Name)’s blood ran cold at the revelation, her eyes widening as Ania turned to meet her gaze. “Every single one? That’s…”

“Unusual, I know. Werewolves in and of themselves are rare to have as a familiar because they’re reluctant to be bound to a witch… so the fact that each familiar was a werewolf is suspicious.”

“What could be the motive? I find it hard to believe a familiar would just kill its master like that! In all of witch history, I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

Ania opened her own grimoire. “I agree with you, it is hard to believe. But the detection spell pointed to each familiar being a werewolf. We have yet to find and question any of the suspects due to them fleeing the scene once the bond to their master was broken…”

(Name) frowned deeply. “And with what Ember said today, if this news got out, the entire coven will be in hysterics. There will be werewolf hunts and-“

“That’s why they can’t find out. You are the only person outside of my trusted inner circle that knows of this, (Name).”

She looked at Ania, confused. “But why would you tell me, Ania? I’m not as strong or intelligent as others, so why would you give me this information and not someone more qualified?”

Ania smiled at that, chuckling. “That, I cannot say my dear. You are destined for great things, and I just want you to be informed so when it’s time for you to make decisions… you’ll have all the information you need to make the right choice.”

“That’s really cryptic, Ania.”

The older woman only smiled, beckoning her to follow. “Come, I must take my leave. Let’s walk and talk.”

The two continued to chat as they walked towards the entrance of the cabin. “I’ll send you home with a spell, dear. It is quite late in the southerners sector by now, hmm?”

(Name) nodded, grabbing hold of her broom.

“Oh, and (Name)?”

She looked up as Ania raised her wand. “Yes?”

“Kindness and patience is always key.”

With that, she was sent home. She appeared in her cottage, the fire lighting the second she stepped close.

“I wonder what she meant by that…”

———————

(Name) brushed off her dress, staring out into the forest. She really had to go back into the forest to gather supplies… but she was worried she would encounter that wolf again.

With a sigh, she pocketed her wand and carried her broom. They were just there in case she sensed any danger. Unfortunately, she wasn’t great with defensive or attack spells, it was why she took to healing magic and concoctions instead.

But she knew a few illusion spells that may buy her some time to escape… hopefully those would work.

(Name) walked along the work down path, much more alert than usual. She listened for the sounds of the forest, making sure to listen for any branches snapping or leaves rustling.

She was able to make it back to the lake with no problems, sighing in relief. There, she unloaded her jars from her basket and began placing shells, underwater plantlife, and some of the nutrient rich soil to add to her garden.

Unbeknownst to her, she was being watched from a distance, a pair of scarlet eyes following her as she walked along the lake’s edge.

Once she finished, (Name) was surprised to see the wolf with the golden coat standing only a few meters away from her. Although it growled when she moved, it showed no other signs of aggression, only watching her… as if it was curious.

“Hello, again…” (Name) said softly, staying still as it approached. She kept her hand in her pocket on her wand, but began to relax. It only circled her, chuffing when it moved behind her.

She tensed, but relaxed again when it appeared on her left side. It was inspecting her, sniffing her… was that normal behavior for a wild animal?

Its scarlet eyes focused on her, and she noticed it still had that slight limp when it walked. “Are you… injured?”

As if it could understand her, the creature tensed, the fur on its back rising. “Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to upset you…”

Taking a chance, she slowly reached out her hand to place it on its head. She had a connection with animals, having rehabilitated many woodland creatures. A wolf couldn’t be that different, right?

Well, she was wrong. The beast growled before snapping its jaws at her hand, barely missing her fingers. It then ran away, slower than it usually would be due to its injured paw.

Her heart hurt from the sight. Had it been trying to ask her for help? It was possible the poor thing was someone’s pet that had been let go after learning how hard it was to take care of a wolf. Maybe that’s why it was both comfortable around humans and also weary of them?

(Name) made a decision that day. She would gain that wolf’s trust, and maybe… even make it her familiar.

———————

As the days turned into weeks, (Name) visited the forest every day she could. She saw the wolf often, sometimes from the corner of her eye, and sometimes it came in direct contact with her.

She always sat patiently, letting it come to her. (Name) had learned her lesson, and eventually she was able to sit in silence with the wolf by her side as she did mundane tasks like cleaning out her jars or sewing by the lake.

It had yet to let her touch it, but she didn’t mind. She would get it to trust her… it needed medical attention, more than she thought. It was scrawny, hungry looking, as if it was having trouble hunting by itself.

She started bringing out raw meat from the market and leaving it by the lake for it, and when its condition started to improve slowly, she knew that it was eating.

Once she started feeding it, the wolf began trusting her a great deal more. It now followed her down the pathway when she walked home, a slight sway in its tail.

She was making great progress, and the two seemed to have a mutual trust that neither would hurt the other. Every time she came to the lake, it was waiting there for her. It would eat, then sit nearby as she did what she needed to do, then walked her home. It had become her routine.

That’s why it surprised her when it wasn’t there when she came.

“Pup?”

(Name) called for it, patting her thigh and whistling. Usually it would have come to greet her by now…

The silence in the forest was almost eerie, as if everything was holding its breath. There was no birdsong, no squirrels skittering from tree to tree… just silence.

“Something is wrong…”

It was growing dark, and she was hurrying back as quickly as she could. (Name) had heard from some other forest dwelling witches that when the sounds of the forest stopped, that meant there was a large predator around, something that made the squirrels and birds hide in fear.

Had the wolf gone into hiding too?

She didn’t have to wonder for long. As she neared her cottage, her eyes widened in horror. There were bloodied paw prints leading down the stone path to her front door, and laying on her doorstep was the golden wolf.

It panted loudly, its fur matted with blood. (Name) immediately kneeled at its side, trying to hold back tears. The injured paw was stuck in a bear trap, and it had gashed on its belly and back… as if it had been attacked with a knife…

When it growled at her touch, she simply shushed it. “Shh, shh, I’m here. You came to my home for a reason, right? I can help you…”

Although it still snarled and yelped as she hoisted it into her home with great effort, it made no attempts to sink its teeth into her flesh.

As soon as it was inside, she summoned as many bandages as she could, along with a metal bar to help her pry the bear trap off.

“This is going to hurt, pup. Don’t bite me…”

The wolf laid its head down, as if telling her it trusted her to help. It growled and snarled in pain as she pried open the bear trap. Once its paw was free, she examined the damage.

His paw was barely hanging on… thankfully she focused on healing magic. She was able to reattach his paw and clean the wound, bandaging it before moving onto the gashes on his body.

(Name) collapsed in exhaustion after hours of working on the wolf. Her efforts had paid off, as it was now sleeping peacefully by the fire.

‘At least one of us is able to sleep…’ she thought, rising from the couch to wash the blood from her hands. She exhausted all of her magic saving the wolf’s life, which worried her slightly. That meant if it were to attack for any reason, she wouldn’t be able to defend herself.

After much thought, she realized that even if it wanted to hurt her, it would be unable. The thing couldn’t stand, much less leap out and attack her, so she decided to sleep next to it… just to watch over it, of course… the fact that it was so soft and warm had nothing to do with it…

———————-

(Name) woke up in the early hours of the morning, the sun not even up yet. She could have only been asleep for a few hours, as the fire was still going…

She sat up, yawning and rubbing her eyes… but paused when she took a second look at the fire.

She hasn’t remembered putting that second log in the fireplace… before she slept, she had even cursed herself for not doing so.

(Name) felt a chill run up her spine and immediately turned to see if the wolf was okay… but instead of seeing its beautiful golden fur and large form, she was met with something much smaller hidden under the blanket…

Smaller, but still bigger than her, whatever it was wriggled the second she spoke. “U-um…”

She expected the wolf to perhaps be some kind of magical beast that turned into something smaller when injured to conserve power… and she wasn’t that far off.

When she pulled back the blanket, instead of a furred creature, she came face to face with a handsome… man?

“… hello…”

For finding a man in the place of the injured wolf she saved, (Name) took the situation well. And by well, she screamed and scooted away, wielding her wand.

“W-who are you and what did you do to that wolf!? Are you some kind of poacher? A pervert? A poaching pervert!?”

The person squinted at her, sighing. “No… I’m neither of those… I-“

He winced in pain, whimpering as the blanket fell around him. (Name)’s eyes went wide as she saw the bandages decorating his form, the same ones she had applied to the wolf last night…

The things that finally clued her in were the wolf ears perched atop of his blonde head, and tail limp on his back.

“Y-you’re…”

“A werewolf…” he muttered, his ears flattening against his head. “You… helped me, and… I understand if you no longer want to help now that you know what I am. I simply ask that… you let me recover until I am able to move…”

She swallowed, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter what you are. You’re hurt, and I won’t let you suffer.”

The man looked on in mild shock as she helped him onto the couch. “This should be more comfortable… I’ll need to redo your bandages soon…”

The man watched her work silently. She redressed his wounds with a skill that was uncommon for women in their era. Once she was done, it was only then that her eyes trailed down his torso to look for anything else that she may have missed when his thick fur was in the way…

“Oh.”

Her face warmed, her eyes going wide.

He was completely and utterly nude, barely covering his groin with the blanket. His wolf ear twitched as she turned away, flustered.

‘I forgot, werewolves lose their clothing when they turn…’

For now, she simply covered him with a blanket, too tired to do anything else. With that, she left him to sleep on the couch and headed to bed.

‘What am I going to do? There’s a werewolf on my couch, right after Ember mentioned one eating her livestock. Is it the same one..? Could it… be connected to the familiars going rogue?’

She sighed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. ‘Well, whatever the case is, it’s my responsibility now. I decided to save its life, and I don’t regret it. Once it’s back to full health, I’ll think of what to do…’

With that decided, she drifted off to sleep, exhausted from her long day.

———————

In the living room, the werewolf stared up at the ceiling, his head filled with the images of the events he had been through.

‘I thought they lost my trail… those damn poachers will do anything to complete their collection…’

His heart ached to think of his pack, their coats skinned from their bodies after they were forced to transform and fight each other for their captors’ amusement. It made his blood boil to think of how scared the pups must have been, how the elders must have died comforting them with their final breaths, just for all of their words to mean nothing in the end.

He hated humans and their endless lust for money and power. For years he had avoided human contact, staying in his wolf form and attacked anyone that came near in fear of being hurt again…

That was until he met her.

Even before they officially met, he had been stalking her through the woods for months. At first, he had planned on killing her and taking over her cabin for himself. In his mind, it was only fair. Humans killed and stole from nature every single day, honestly he thought he was doing the world a favor taking one of them out.

But (Name) wasn’t like other humans. Every day, he watched her take only what she needed, and left behind gifts for the fairies and animals. She tended to the wounded creatures and made sure she never overstayed her welcome.

It would be dishonest to say he liked her, but she was the closest thing to tolerable a human could get in his eyes. So when he met her, he found himself unable to hurt her.

Though at first he kept his distance and attempted to bite her if she strayed too close, he never intended to actually hurt her. If he wanted to, he could have easily tore into her throat and feasted on her flesh… but he didn’t.

This human, this girl had become something akin to a friend to him. Despite his hatred for her kind, he couldn’t help following after her and staying by her side. It felt soothing, safe… almost familiar in a way. It reminded him of when he was just a pup and would follow behind his mother while she hunted or gathered ingredients for dinner.

So when he was attacked by the very poachers that killed his family, he escaped with only one thing in mind.

‘I have to find her!’

He followed her scent, barely dragging his wounded hide to her home and collapsing on the front step. He never would have thought that he would trust a human to help him, not after what he had been put through.

Even now, as he laid there powerless and unable to move, his mind was still conflicted. Was this really okay? Could he truly rely on this human to tend to him when he was utterly defenseless?

‘It doesn’t really look like I have much of a choice…’

Winning his trust would not be easy, but if she could… (Name) would gain a loyal companion.

Only time could tell what would become of these two…

—————————

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