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jinx-xxed · 3 months ago

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Beautiful Thing Caged

Chapter 1; Strange sight

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; My first multi-part fic!! I’ve never been able to commit to one before so I’m really hoping I’ll be able to see this one through cuz I have some good ideas for it :]. I hope you enjoy, that’ll help keep me motivated too!! Also thanks to my bestie for the idea for the chapter titles ♡

This writing is based on this fan art ! It made my jaw drop to the floor when I saw it and I haven’t stopped thinking about it since.

Part 2 ⇨

Summary; The First Order Agencies have come across a new, strange creature and it becomes your job to study it. You get far more than you bargained for.

Content; Werewolf AU, modern AU, werewolf Kylo Ren, human reader, scientist reader, soulmates, angst, feral Kylo, like legit feral bro does not know about human society, there’s a part where he eats a bunch of raw meat (I did not enjoy it), Kylo’s being studied in a lab, he studies you too, he’s scared and sad and angry (what else is new), lots of tension, neither of you know how to feel

[Each chapter will have specific content warnings. This story will eventually have 18+ content.]

Wc; 3.5k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

“I’m sorry?”

You look down at the sheets that had just been slid to you across the mahogany desk. It’s a thick packet stapled together, the papers perfectly crisp and white. On them is paragraph upon paragraph detailing the new assignment that your superiors at First Order Agencies have decided to place on you. Your hands reach forward from where they’d been resting in your lap to tentatively flip through the packet, your brows creasing further with each page.

Studying an unknown creature. Studying something that nobody knows what it is or where it came from, something that the only thing people know about it is that it’s incredibly dangerous. You briefly scan over the pages dedicated to the description of the creature—black fur, wolf like appearance, supposedly male, huge, able to take on a humanoid state. You see that in place of a true name, it’s been given the label of OB-2637. Written at the bottom of the description is “BEWARE CREATURE, WILL ATTACK. STAY IN DESIGNATED OBSERVATION BAYS FOR SAFETY.” Lovely. There’s no pictures attached so your imagination is free to run wild, thinking up an image of a hulking beast with drool covered teeth and ragged fur covering its misshapen body. You shudder.

“Wh- why is this being given to me?” You ask, looking up at the one who’d given you the papers. He goes by Hux and he oversees your sector of the Agency, making him your boss. “I’m just a nature observationalist. I feel like I’m not-“

“You’re the most qualified one in this facility.” Hux states. He sounds uninterested, his shrewd face giving no insight as to what he thinks about the Agency housing a dangerous, unknown creature of unknown origin. “We agreed that with your knowledge about the “wild world”, it would probably give you the most insight on this… thing. You’ll be paid generously for your work based on your findings if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

You’d seen the amount they were offering you, it was certainly nothing to scoff at. You shake your head. “No, that’s not what I’m concerned about. I’m more concerned that this seems above my level. I’ve never dealt with something like this since I’ve been here.” You say. You’ve been with the First Order for almost five years now. It’s a government agency that’s kept tightly under wraps, mostly because the Agency deals with things that they think “normal civilians” shouldn’t be made aware of. It took a lot for you to get accepted into this position.

Hux leans forward against his desk, the dimness of his office making his features look even crueler than usual. “If you really doubt yourself that much, then you don’t have to take this job. But I’ll make it known that if you turn this down, it’ll go to the next best person and I don’t think they’ll be as… compassionate towards this thing as you will be.” He says. His tone is so heavy, so serious. It holds so many implications that have your palms sweating. He shrugs as he relaxes in his chair. “I’m sure they’ll probably end up killing it. Theres a lot of people in this place that want to dissect that creature piece by piece. So it’s not just about your qualifications, it’s about how you’ll decide to treat another living being—that’s why you were the first pick.“

You swallow and your spit almost gets stuck on the lump in your throat. You look again at those papers, at what will be waiting for you in those lower levels of the facility. You think over Hux’s words, you roll them around in your mind in the same way you’d roll something in your mouth to get the taste of it. You know that he’s right, that anybody else would kill this creature just to get a thorough look at it. Anything in the name of science, after all. You know the people working in the First Order are not kind-hearted, most are cruel and cold. You have few friends in this place, even after the amount of time you’ve spent here. Your answer becomes clear to you. You don’t want this creature to die.

“I’ll take the assignment.” You say at last, steeling yourself so you don’t lose your nerve. You can do this. Surely it won’t be that hard? You just need to observe some type of animal, find out what it is, where it came from. That’s your whole job. You do that every day.

“Good choice.” Hux nods. He digs something out of a drawer. “Sign this and then be on your way.” He gives you an NDA, one that’s specifically catered towards this assignment. You’ve signed countless versions of these since you started working for the Agency, so it’s nothing new as you fill out everything you need to. You think nothing of them now, it’s not like you have people in your life to tell about your job anyway.

Hux takes the paper once you’re done. “Floor twenty. Your badge has already been approved for access. You shouldn’t experience any trouble.”

That’s a stern dismissal if you’ve ever heard one. You stand from your chair, smoothing out your lab coat as you go. You grab the packet of information; it’s not much but it at least gives you something to go off of. “Thank you, sir.” You say. Hux merely grunts in acknowledgment, already buried in the paperwork for something else.

You leave his office, taking a deep breath when the door shuts behind you. Holding the packet close, you walk through the halls of the building’s upper floor. When you think about it, the above-ground section is like a mask to the public eye. It’s all of the boring offices, gaudy paintings littering the walls, carpeted floors. It’s unassuming and basic and meant to hide what lays below the surface: all of the Agency’s experiments, their studies, and their classified documents stuck behind vaults. That’s where most of the employees are, that’s where your own office is. There’s few people upstairs and the ones you do manage to pass don’t even spare you a glance on your way to the elevator.

One of the two elevators opens a second after you press the button. You step inside and hit the button for the twentieth floor. The door closes without anyone else inside, leaving you blissfully alone. There’s no classic elevator music that plays, there’s only the sounds of the machine working to keep you company. Your hands frequently change position on the papers you hold to try and keep from drenching one spot in your sweat.

It feels like an eternity before the elevator begins to slow and there’s a resounding ding as it reaches the twentieth floor. The second lowest floor in the facility; you can’t even imagine how far underground you are. The hall you enter in to is pure white, fluorescent lights bouncing off the walls and floors. There’s nobody you can see and you know based on your packet that the only other people involved in this assignment are guards and a few nutritional specialists. You’re on your own.

The halls of this floor hold few doors, instead mostly housing holding cells and laboratories. You use your badge when you come upon authorized entryways, that unsmiling face in your picture getting you the beep you need to pass through. You’re halfway to where you know you need to go when you begin to hear strange noises. Clinking chains, the faint snarl. Sounds of struggling. You really should just turn back, try to ignore all of this and pretend you don’t care about the fate of some defenseless animal. You know you can’t though, so you keep walking on unsteady legs.

There’s one final door you need to pass through, one last door keeping you from a sealed fate. You feel the sense of foreboding prickling the back of your neck, your shirt sticks to your spine from your perspiration. The door beeps in response to your badge, your hand hesitates on the handle. It opens into a massive room, snow white in color with a black rim. Theres very little inside it; there’s data pads built into the walls for recording observations and there’s a one way window stretching along the right wall. You don’t know who would be on the other side. The room is separated by a massive pane of reinforced glass, stretching from floor to ceiling, spanning the entire length.

You finally see what that glass is meant to keep in and everything seems to freeze. That’s no animal, no creature, or bizarre thing. It’s nothing like what they made it seem. That’s a human. A human male kept in a cage, thoroughly restrained. His body is just the same as yours, albeit much larger and far more muscled, but he has the same limbs, the same fingers and toes. No paws or excess fur, just sharp black nails at the ends of his fingers that have put claw marks in the floor. His attention turns to you then and you see his face. He’s what you’d describe as beautiful; his features are both sharp and soft at the same time, his nose strong, and his pale skin dotted with moles and freckles. His face is framed by waves of black hair and he’s captivating, even with blood smeared on his chin and neck.

Your eyes meet. God, his eyes. They’re human, they’re round and the pupils are blown out with his emotions. Even from your place at the other side of the room you can tell the honey brown color and you can see the fear swimming in them. If you didn’t dismiss it as you being crazy, you’d say there was some sort of spark that flared between you both for some inexplicable reason. Like there was a sort of understanding rooted deep down that you didn’t understand. Then it was gone.

And then the frozen second snaps and everything is thrown back into motion. His expression shifts into something angry and fierce and he makes an attempt to lunge at you. His movements are so powerful, even with every limb bearing thick cuffs with chains connected to the wall, even with one around his neck. He comes so close to the glass, his hands reaching in your direction, those claws scraping uselessly against the floor. You flinch back on instinct, your breathing coming fast and hard. It’s then that you see the ears and tail on the man. They are indeed akin to a wolf like the papers said, black ears sitting in his hair and a large, fluffy black tail protruding behind him. When his mouth opens in a snarl, you see the unnaturally sharp canines that he has. They’d rip you apart in no time.

He tries a few more times to get at you before realizing it’s useless. It’s probably not a new feeling for him. He retreats more against the back wall where the chains are connected, making them go slack and giving him more movement. He tries to shrink himself which is hard with such a huge body, his tail coming to wrap around his feet. He doesn’t have much within his cell—only a small cot and a singular blanket as a bed in one corner, and a toilet and sink in the other corner.

You swallow. You realize how long you’ve been standing there without moving so you take one very small step forward. Then another and another until you’re about halfway towards the glass. He watches you with such intensity the entire time it makes you nervous. You try to take another step before he growls at you, a deep and rumbling sound that has you freezing. When you retreat, he stops.

“Okay. I’ll stay here then.” You say, standing in the spot you’d been in before that last step. This is where you’d begin. Small things to make him more comfortable in this unfamiliar environment; you’d follow his rules.

Seeing no chairs around you, you lower yourself to the floor. It’s cold even through your layers but you don’t mind. You have no room to complain when you look at him with no shirt or shoes, nothing to really keep him warm besides thin pants and that blanket on the cot. You study him in silence, just like how he studies you. You feel confusion over the conflict of the report versus what you see before you. The report had first described a wolf-like appearance that could take on a humanoid form but all you see in front of you is a human man with wolf ears and a tail. Maybe they’d overexaggerated?

Now that a fragile peace has settled between the both of you and he’s sitting still, you’re able to see the scar running along the left side of his face. It travels all the way down his collarbone before finally stopping. It’s deep and jagged and you can only imagine how badly it must’ve hurt; he’s lucky he didn’t lose his eye from it. Looking over him, you see he has a multitude of scars all over the planes of his body. He’s a fighter, then. With the way he’d lunged at you as soon as you entered, it doesn’t take you by surprise.

You clear your throat from your nerves. You begin with stating your name. You don’t even know how much he can understand you or if he can at all but you continue anyway. “I’m not here to hurt you. I know you probably don’t trust that, and I understand. We just want to know more about you.” You say. You inwardly cringe because this all sounds so weird to say to another human. You clasp your hands together tightly in your lap. “If you can speak, it would be a huge help if you’d explain some things about yourself. What’s your name and age? Where’d you come from?”

You don’t get a response—you didn’t expect one. He sits there with his knees up to his chest and his face partially hidden by his hair just staring at you, his eyes so wide and telling that it’s hard not to meet that stare. This is how it’ll be then. That’s fine, you’re used to sitting in one spot for hours and watching for an animals every minuscule movement. That’s what you end up doing, merely watching him and studying his body. Every twitch of the finger, every tense of the muscle is something you keep note of. It’s a good way to get a basis of information about what you’re studying so you always have something to compare to. You log everything in your mind for now, thinking how you’ll need to remember your laptop for next time.

There’s a sudden noise that leaves both of you startled. You sit up straighter and his ears perk up as a door to the right inside his cell opens. His wolf ears flatten back against his head and he scoots farther from the door, his chains clinking with the movement. You watch curiously as a human-shaped, somewhat janky robot enters with a plate balanced in its hands. You never see much of the Agency’s robots, mostly because most of them are unfinished and unpolished, but it seems they’re useful when real people don’t want to get near a deadly thing. The robot drops the plate unceremoniously on the floor and you notice with a start that blood splatters. The robot leaves.

Both you and the beast-man look at the plate before he decides to move towards it. You make another mental note about how much he surveys his surroundings before deciding what to do, as if weighing all options and possibilities.

The plate is rather large and holds a copious amount of raw meat, seemingly from multiple different animals based on the coloring and sizes. Blood slowly drips off the edge of the plate, pooling on the white floors. You can’t help the revulsion you feel looking at it as he inches closer, sniffing the scent of meat and blood into his nostrils. His eyes widen at it, pupils expanding, and he immediately takes a massive slab into his hands. His teeth tear into it like it’s paper, those fangs ripping it apart as blood drips down his chin. Despite your disgust, you’re also fascinated. So his digestive system can handle raw foods—like a wolf. I wonder what the layout of it is. What kind of bacteria is in there? You think, pondering over the idea as you watch him eat like a beast.

He finishes most of the plate, leaving only a few tinier pieces that he pushed aside. He must not like the taste of that particular animal. He seems more at ease now that he’s been fed, the worry of whether or not he’d get another meal satiated. He’s unbothered by the blood on his clawed hands and face as he sits back down and returns to watching you. When his eyes find you again there’s a shiver that goes down your back. There’s something in them you can’t place and it creates a weird feeling in your gut that you can’t decipher.

The rest of your day goes by without a hitch. You sit on the floor and study the beast-man in silence. You don’t try talking to him anymore, you’d rather not make a fool of yourself if he won’t say anything back to you—if he even can. He doesn’t do anything, there’s nothing to do in his cell anyway. He sits and watches and at one point he laid down on his back facing you so he could still keep an eye on you. There was one last meal time where you got to see him eat a bunch of raw meat again which wasn’t… great for your own appetite.

Hours passed before the lights finally began to dim, meaning the facility was shutting down for the night. There’ll still be people working the entire time, of course, but they shut down a majority of the power in the unused areas. You sigh to yourself, unfolding your body and getting up with a grunt from the stiffness in your limbs. The beast-man who had been drifting off before is now fully alert, wide eyes watching. You go to move towards the door and he growls at you. It startles you, makes goosebumps pick up along your arms. You look back at him with furrowed brows, confused. “I’m leaving, alright? I won’t bother you anymore.” You huff. This is what he wants so why is he getting pissy? You feel annoyed about his attitude for a second before you remember he’s the one stuck in a cell and you’re not. He has a right to be mad with you.

You sigh again and go to the datapads in the wall by the door. Since you don’t have your laptop, you take a few minutes to input the things you observed today that you’ll just transfer over later. You find yourself writing down a lot more than you thought you would and it makes you feel accomplished, like you actually did something today. When you’re finished, you put your hand on the door handle, ready to leave. But you pause, you look back at him and you know it was a mistake instantly. He looks so sad, so alone and afraid in that large, white room. You struggle to tear yourself away and open that door before you do something crazy.

You shake your head as you enter the hall, the door locking firmly behind you. Your mind feels like it’s shut off while you retrace your steps; back through the winding halls, back up the elevator, back into the main building. Back to your car where you grip the steering wheel with a deadly force, staring blankly at the road on your long drive home. Then finally, back to your small house where there’s no lights on inside because there’s nobody waiting for you.

You unlock the door and step in, a wave of something like loneliness washing over you when you do. It’s strange, it’s never been like this before. You try to ignore it as you shed your lab coat and make a simple dinner and sit on your couch. You don’t move for a moment, your brain deciding that now is a good time to rerun everything from today. That was a man. It wasn’t a beast, not really. And they have him stuck in a cell like that. It’s inhumane, isn’t it?

You find yourself with your head in your hands, groaning loudly as some form of release. “God, what have I gotten myself into?”

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Part 2 ⇨

#I hope you stick around for more :]#all those fanarts of Kylo with dog ears and a tail finally got my ass #I couldn’t take it anymore #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader #kylo ren #kylo #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren x reader #kylo fanfic #kylo x reader #kylo x you #Kylo ren angst #werewolf x reader #werewolf fanfic

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vermont-writes-fanfic · 27 days ago

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Here’s a little fun thing while I work on some asks! These choices come from the top three winners of the last poll along with what in currently working on!

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stellar-solar-flare · 3 days ago

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🍂 leaves: what does your editing process look like? how does your wip typically change as you work on it?

👻 ghost: can you tease some wip ideas that have been haunting you/something you want to write in the future?

💜💜

This ask is in response to October Themed Writeblr Ask Game. I apologize for taking forever to answer, and thank you for sending an ask!

Answers as well as a 1k sneak peek to a werewolf Bucky x Reader, Steve x OFC fic I'm very excited about is under the cut!

🍂 leaves: what does your editing process look like? how does your wip typically change as you work on it?

Depends on the fic, really. I don't outline or do a first draft in the very pure sense of the world - I aim to write pretty finished text since my way of writing is mostly about telling myself a story. My editing usually only involves making sure things make sense and elaborating where I need to, such as adding descriptions in between dialogue to make the scene more vivid, or changing sentence structure so that it flows better.

I usually finish an entire scene or even a short chapter before editing, but especially with longer chapters, I often edit in between writing new text since it's a good way for me to get in the flow and do something creative during the days when I don't feel super creative and bright. Most stuff that I publish goes through four phases: 1) writing, 2) general editing, 3) quick once-over, and finally 4) fixes and polishing once it's back from my beta reader (who is a precious angel with the patience of a saint and who always makes my chapters better).

I would say time-wise, writing takes about 70 percent of the time a chapter takes and the rest is editing, unless I end up doing a huge overhaul to a chapter, which happens pretty rarely.

👻 ghost: can you tease some wip ideas that have been haunting you/something you want to write in the future?

Sure! This one is something that right now has a working title Under a Violent Moon. A slow burn romantasy would be how I'd describe it, with some horror and action elements. It'll be an EXPLICIT fic when out but this sneak peek doesn't involve anything beyond a T rating.

CW: kidnapping, mentioned violence, mentioned mob life

The basic premise is that there exists a werewolf underground society that has a lot of mob elements to it - everyone sort of knows about it but it's not something that anyone would want to associate with unless you're looking to do bad stuff. Reader sees Bucky do something that she (or any outsider) should not see, and he panics and forcefully (but not violently) brings her with her to the magically protected place of residence of the pack and in front of Steve, who is the alpha of the pack.

🌙.

There was no sound – at least one you would’ve been able to hear – but regardless, both Bucky and Steve quieted down in the middle of their argument, as if someone had severed their conversation with a sharp knife. Your gaze followed theirs as they turned their heads towards the entrance of the hall and the short woman that had entered.

Save for Steve in his three-piece suit, all the members of the pack that had gathered in the hall favored a mixture of military and hiking clothing. The woman who was now making her way to you was the other exception to the rule; she was clad in a floor-length, flowing white silk dress that would’ve been suitable for a bride at a relaxed beach wedding. Its boat neckline would’ve left her shoulders and arms bare, but her almost white platinum hair spilled down her upper body in a luxurious cascade. Despite it, you could see the scars on her collarbones and arms, and she had brushed her hair away from the left side of the her neck to wear the bite there like a badge of honor.

You did not know which honor, and yet, she carried herself with pride that would’ve hinted at someone important even if every head in the hall hadn’t gently bowed down as she passed. Her eyes, burning bright yellow that shone its own light, locked onto you, and her lips curved up to a smile you didn’t know how to decipher. There was something deeply unsettling abut her, as if the ethereal beauty was simply a skin she wore to get close enough to her prey. She stood against the practical impression you had gotten of everyone else – she was a seeress from a myth, somehow present here and yet truly a citizen of entirely another world.

She was loaded with jewelry; it sparkled on her hair and neck and wrists and even the dress was belted with more platinum and pearls and colorless and yellow diamonds. On her left ring finger sat a giant round diamond flanked by two crescent moons, all set in platinum. Her gaze left you and found another target, her expression melting into a smile. Again, you turned your head to follow the direction of her eyes.

You had thought that getting kidnapped by a werewolf mob would’ve rendered anything else that happened today as entirely unsurprising, and yet, you were struck with shock as you saw Steve, who held the otherworldly woman’s gaze.

The change on him was almost laughable and yet, it made your throat feel tight. He was looking at her with bright, glowing eyes that shone with love and affection, with the kind of smile on his face that would’ve made you believe that she’d personally reached up into the skies and pushed aside the clouds of eternal night to reveal the full moon for him. You hade never seen such warmth and devotion on anyone’s face, and to see it on the face of a werewolf alpha was such a strange thought that it took you a moment to recognize the emotion lingering in your chest as jealousy. Not for Steve but for the love that she had.

You had hear many tales of werewolves – how they were cruel, brutal creatures, more animals than humans and thus unable to process higher emotions than those that followed directly from their animalistic needs. The unconcealable beacon of affection that shone on Steve’s face was the complete antithesis to those claims. No one in the world would have been able to look at him and consider it anything but love stemming from the depths of one’s very soul.

The woman stopped in front of you, turning so that you were standing face to face. Her wolf-eyes searched yours, and for a moment, you felt fear beyond anything you had yet experienced. Whatever power she carried, so plain to see and yet so hidden, was one thing – every hair on your body stood up in her presence as some long-forgotten instinct attempted to define a threat it had could not classify.

The way Steve had been looking at her was another. It was obvious that if anyone would do as much as look at her the wrong way, he would tear them into pieces with his bare hands. They had not spoken, and yet Steve stepped behind her and wrapped his giant arms around her midriff, engulfing her in an embrace and a measure of protection at the same time. She melted back against him, and in the flickering candlelight of the hall, it was almost impossible to say where one of them ended and the other began.

“What brought you here, little human?” she asked, and while the words could’ve been an insult – especially from someone who seemed like she was in her thirties herself, not much older than you if at all – they were too gentle to be that. “It is not often that any eyes that aren’t of the pack see what lies behind our gates.”

You swallowed past your dry throat. The cadence of her speech, as well as the old-fashioned words, reminded you of how different this world was to the one you’d known. Did that mean they would never let you go? But she didn’t seem to be accusing you of anything; she was waiting for your answer patiently, her pale fingers brushing over Steve’s forearm in a caress. The rings that were there somehow made the giant rock of the wedding band look even more enormous.

“I wasn’t given a choice,” you said carefully, deciding that the truth was the best option here.

She smiled. Her hand smoothed another touch over Steve’s forearm, and then she turned her arm so that she could entwine her fingers with his – as your gaze was drawn there, you saw a simple gold wedding band on Steve’s left hand, too. He made a humming sound against her temple as the rings clinked against each other, and her expression turned even softer.

“Fate rarely gives us a choice,” she said gently to you before turning to Bucky, who was standing frozen next to you. “You have brought a human here. You know our ways; you know our law. You know what follows.”

🌙.

#stella muses on writing #stella interacts with humans #stella receives messages from the stars #bucky barnes x reader #mob bucky barnes x reader #werewolf bucky barnes x reader #soft dark steve rogers #soft dark bucky barnes #steve rogers x OFC

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hellhound5925 · 1 year ago

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One shot - Sargent Hunter

Thank you @lune-de-miel-au-paradis for the awesome mood board!

“There’s only one way to find out”

Warnings: 18+, fluff, smut, werewolf stuff, breeding kink

Summary:

Werewolves, like fully transformable werewolves. A life that was so different from any other. Hunter and his woman enjoy late nights in the woods, surrounded by everything that pleases their more wild side.

The autumn moon had found its place high in the sky, casting its amber glow down onto the forest. The breeze rolling in the fog and gently rustling what left of the leaves in the trees. This time of year was our favorite, the cool crisp air in your lungs and the scent of pine that hangs in the air. The only sounds that can be heard are the chirping circuits and the blanket of leaves that cover the soft dirt crunching under my paws. I was never really worried about being quiet but when you're as fast and powerful as me, it's usually not an issue.

A rustling noise off to my left, draws the attention of my ears causing me to slide to a stop. My nose immediately goes to the air, trying to pick out a scent. Once again I hear the rustling but this time it comes from behind. The sudden feeling of vulnerability causes me to spin around, barring my large pearly white canines. A low growl erupts from deep within my chest as a warning to whatever lays beyond the bushes.

I get low to the ground, pinning my ears and preparing for an attack but before I can move, a large black wolf leaps from the bushes. It lands on top of me, a series of snarls and yips escapes my lips. Now pinned to the ground, I instinctively roll to my back ready to fight to the death. Our eyes lock and a familiar warmth washes over me as the honey brown irises pull me in. My eyes wander my fellow canines face, the black fur broken up on one side of his face with traces of white....Hunter. I can feel my body start to relax and he huffs as though he finds this situation comical.

Narrowing my eyes, I snap at his face to get off me. He moves, allowing me to stand before stalking circles around me. The look in his eyes is one almost like someone whose been starved in front of a large feast. I tip my head down while my eyes look up at him in submission hoping he takes the bate. He does, taking a few strides towards me before I dart off back through the woods. Hunter always did like the chase.

My feet can hardly keep up with themselves, heart pounding in my ears at the thrill. I could hear him a few paces behind me but once again he seems to have disappeared. Unfortunately for me, I stick out like a sore thumb. My bright white fur a great contrast to my environment, at least my speed makes up for it.

I had not been paying attention to the direction I was running until I slowed my pace. Realizing now that I was at the edge of the woods, I decide to make my way over to the cliffs edge just past the trees. The view from here is breath taking, enough to have the undivided attention of all of my senses. Out of the corner of my eye, my canine partner comes into view as he makes his way to my side. We both sit there together in silence for a moment looking out over the edge and the land below.

Without another thought, I throw myself his direction, landing on top of him in a pile of limbs. The two of us now in our human form.

"You scare me like that again you might end up regretting it" I tease, running my fingers through this hair.

Hunter chuckles and a small smile tugs at the corner of his lips, "Is that a threat?" I roll my eyes at his response.

The glow of the moon lights his face up in a way that makes him the most beautiful thing I've ever seen. I trace the skull tattoo on his face with my fingers from his cheek down his stubbled jawline before stoping at his lips. My eyes flick up to meet his, the honey brown irises now small halos around pupils that are blown wide. His arousal makes itself known as our bodies are pressed together.

The thing about us...about werewolves...is we mate for life. Hunter is my mate and I am his.

He pushes a blonde strand of hair out of my face, gently tucking it behind my ear. Eyes flicking between mine, he raises a brow "I can see that beautiful brain of yours working."

Placing both hands on his chest I rest my chin on them, smiling softly as I listen to the steady rhythm of his heart. "I was just thinking about how much I love you....." I trail off not really sure if what his reaction will be to my other thought.

"And?"

"And what? Does there have to be something else?" I give myself completely way by nervous rambling, not to mention he can definitely hear my heart rate spike.

His eyes narrow and he sits up forcing me to sit up with him. Now face to face with me in his lap, he puts both hands on my waist. I can't help but drape my arms over his broad muscular shoulders. Tipping my head back I sigh, still not sure if this is a great idea. He takes the opportunity to pepper kisses along my neck and collar bones mumbling the whole time.

"Are you going to tell me? Or am I going to have to pull it out of you?"

I let him continue for a moment humming my satisfaction before pushing him away.

"Alright fine, I'll tell you. But I'm not sure how you'll react."

Concern flashes over his face as he straightens himself up to listen attentively.

"I wonder what our kids would— look like?" I pause searching his face for a reaction but I get none. "Like as far as wolves..."

His eyes fill with something different this time, not lust, but...admiration? No that's not it... "I bet they'd be the most beautiful pups you've ever seen."

My heart swells so big, it might burst though my chest, "Really? You think so?" Honestly I don't even need a response because now the look in his eyes makes sense. He's radiating emotions that would normally overwhelm someone like us, instead I welcome it. Allowing it to wrap me in it's warm embrace. Love...he's radiating love.

Hunter grabs one side of my face, pulling me closer so our foreheads touch. His brown eyes pulling me in, forever entangling our souls. A connection like no other.

"There's only one way to find out."

The thought causes me to bite my lip, which draws his attention. Rolling us over so I'm now underneath him, he tugs at the hem of my shirt.

Pulling it over my head, he kisses down my sternum, stopping just below my belly button. "I can't get the image of you carrying my baby out of my head" his voice is low, low enough the average person wouldn't be able to hear. But I heard him clear as day, the possessiveness puts me over the edge. My inter wolf even howls in excitement at the thought.

He picks his head up and looks at me, as if to make sure I heard him. I involuntarily arch my back, his words still lingering in my ears. A devilish smirk makes it way across his face as he gently tugs off the rest of my clothing, exposing me to the cool crisp air. Goosebumps erupt all over my body, Hunter's eyes consume the image of me before him before removing his own clothing.

His body against mine, creating a warmth until mine can adjust to the air. Without warning, he slides two fingers into my core causing a gasp to escape my lips. The vibration in his chest travels through my core as he lets out a light chuckle. Being that we are mates, he can read me like book and knows just the right buttons to press. My fingers dig into the dirt at my sides, whats left of the grass tickles my palms while he skillfully reaches all the right places.

I inhale sharply and release the dirt, letting it fall back to its rightful place. The scent of the freshly disturbed earth reaches my nose. Hunter notices this and stops, I let out a whimper in blissful anguish, being so close and having him just stop like that is unfair.

"Easy mesh'la (beautiful) we're going to do this together" he coos.

Planting both hands on either side of me, I grab onto his biceps squeezing in anticipation of the pressure at my center. He lines himself up before pushing himself into my core. A drunken sound leaves my lips, egging him on. Hunter picks up a steady pace sending me right back into a mind numbingly, euphoric state.

He kisses the skin on my neck making his way up to my ear where the gently tugs at it, "I'm going to fill you to the brim" voice dripping with lust. "Pl—please" I beg, sounding far more needy than I intended. With a grunt he pushed himself further than I thought possible.

My hands make their way to the back if his head, tangling my fingers in his soft waves. The sound of my desperate cries for him and skin on skin filtering through the trees, drowning out the circuits. As I get closer, my grip on his hair tightens.

"S—so close"

"Shhhh, I know Mesh'la."

We come undone together. His forehead pressed to mine and his eyes flutter shut as he grunts, making good on his promise. Neither of us move for what seems like eternity.

He hums softly before speaking, "Want to make sure this sticks." I slide my hands down his face, holding onto it. His eyes open and meet mine, "You'll make a great dad" I whisper, twirling a stand of his hair around my finger.

"I hope they have hair like yours...You've always had better hair than me." A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he leans in and kisses me, letting me know that even though the galaxy is vast, the only place he wants to be is right here, right now.

Taglist: @cloneloverrrrr @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idoubleswearimawriter @maybethatfanfictionwriter

@savebytheodore @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @jediknightjana @techs-goggles9902 @clonethirstingisreal

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jinx-xxed · 3 months ago

Text

Beautiful Thing Caged

Chapter 2; You’re wrong but you’re right

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; We made it to part 2 guys let’s go!! Next chapter will be more fun I hope T_T definitely struggled a bit with this one

⇦ Part 1

Part 3 ⇨

Summary; You dive headfirst into trying to learn more about this beast-man you’ve been assigned to. You didn’t expect for things to run so deep.

Content; Werewolf AU, modern AU, werewolf Kylo Ren, human reader, scientist reader, soulmates, lots of research and sciencey things, blood testing, Kylo acts like a smartass, reader’s over him already

[Each chapter will have specific content warnings.]

Wc; 4.1k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Your head slips from where it’d been resting on a closed fist. You barely catch yourself in time before you slam face first into the table beneath you. You’d been dozing off again, something you find yourself doing more and more as sleep escapes you night after night. You straighten your posture, groaning as you stretch your limbs out to try and wake them back up. Your laptop sits open and on in front of you, fifteen tabs open at the top—each one more incomprehensible than the last. Wolf-man hybrids, wolf shifter, wolf man, man wolf, what do I do when a weird guy is locked up against his will by a secret government agency??, wolf man illegal topic, guy with wolf ears and tail… That last one gave you some less than desirable results that you’d rather forget.

When you aren’t at the Agency, you find yourself in the town’s local library. It’s a rather large building for the size of your town, which you’re grateful for, so it’s been very easy for you to seclude yourself in your research in the past two weeks. It’s the same every day; the receptionist greets you as you walk in, you beeline for the back of the first floor, and you take the first empty table you see. Then you grab whatever books might be helpful and scatter them all around yourself and your laptop, which you’ve done now.

You grab a new handful every time, seeing if anything can help you at all. So far you’ve come up empty. You started with the basics, reading books about wolves and their behavior just to refresh and learn more about them, then a simple human biology textbook, then you tried myths and legends and folklore books, flipping through them and studying any diagrams you were provided with. You saw more than a few that were under the umbrella of beast-men, things that stood on two legs and were covered in grisly fur and muscle. When you compared those images to the man that’s been occupying your head, they just didn’t match. He’s more man than beast, a fact that’s been haunting you.

You wish he would talk to you. You’d spent the last two weeks sitting in that white observation room, watching him and what he does in silence that was only broken by the clicking of your keyboard and occasionally talking to yourself. Hell, you still didn’t even know if he actually could speak or not. He didn’t give you much of a chance to figure it out, and you didn’t have a partner or anybody to bounce ideas off of. Hux had threatened you enough about telling anyone else about your studies.

You sigh harshly and dig the heels of your palms into your eyes, making yourself see stars. Focus. You lean in a little more against the table, bringing your laptop closer so you can type something in. Your research had led you to a small, online forum consisting of people that seemed to be looking into the same things you are—real life human-beast hybrids, not just the myths. When you’d discovered it a day ago, it’d seemed like your saving grace. The people in it didn’t seem very active anymore, but you’d sent a message, a hopeful shot in the dark. You’re delighted to see a notification in your inbox from the forum. You honestly hadn’t expected a response, your hopes having been dashed so many times you didn’t dare get them up again.

Your original message had been simple, just an introduction under a fake name and a vague question about if anybody knew something about wolf-man beasts. Somebody by the user of JHunter12 responded.

You: Hello, I’m new here! I’ve been working on a research project for school and got stumped. I was wondering if you guys could help? It’s about wolf-man hybrids, like a man having actual wolf ears and a tail and all that. I just can’t seem to find very much on them.

JHunter12: Yeah I know plenty about them. The term you’re looking for is lycanthrope. People don’t talk about them much anymore after they went basically extinct.

Your heart leaps into your throat at this new information. You suddenly feel wide awake. That simple message gave you more information than you’d gotten in the past two weeks of your research. You open a sixteenth tab and copy the term the user had said and sure enough, a whole page popped up. You couldn’t help yourself from grinning, looking at the wolf hybrids you saw on your screen. None of them exactly matched your subject, but this is by far the closest you’ve gotten. Scrolling down, you see a couple articles from years ago about the mutation, or what they call a “disease”. You switch tabs back to the forum, your mind stuck on the last word they’d said.

You: Extinct?

You’re shocked at how quickly they respond.

JHunter12: Yup. Happened like 100 years ago or something. Lycans used to live with normal people no problem until governments decided it actually was a problem once they started mixing too much and a bunch of hybrid babies were popping up. People started going on man hunts like crazy and the government just let it happen, sometimes ordered it themselves. Took their numbers down to basically zero. Wolf populations struggled cuz of it too, everybody thought every normal wolf was a Lycan even though there’s obvious differences. It was a massacre. Awful stuff.

JHunter12: The government tries to cover it up by making it really hard to search for and not letting anybody talk about it. Only reason I ever found out is cuz my great grandpa was one of those hunters. He killed multiple of them. Now I spend most of my time researching them and finding out whatever I can. I’m glad someone else is also interested.

You sit there staring at your screen for a minute, rereading the messages a good few times. You had no idea that there’d been an extinction campaign against the very thing that sat about a forty-five minute drive away in an underground cell. It made you feel sick. It also explained why you’d struggled so much to find any information until now. Even working at a government agency, you knew nothing about this. You wonder if any of your superiors knew, or if they were in the dark like you were. It’s all very strange.

You: Wow I did not expect that at all. Thank you so much for all of your insight, you have no idea how much this has helped me.

Jhunter12: Of course. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask.

You shut your laptop quickly, irrationally fearful that you’ve learned a lot of things you shouldn’t have and you don’t want anyone else seeing. You look out the window near you, the sun having begun to set. The library will be closing soon, which means it’s time for you to pack up. You quickly put away all the books you had scattered about, shove everything into your backpack, and make your way out with a muttered goodbye to the receptionist.

Walking out of that library, even though you have so much new information to research, you can feel that sleep is finally going to come easily to you tonight.

» ☆ «

You researched as much as you could when you’d gotten home, fascinated by how much you were finding now compared to the barren wasteland you had before. The person on the forum had been correct, there was almost nothing you could find about the eradication of lycanthropes; the few articles you did manage to dig up were buried deep within Google’s results, clearly not wanting to be found easily. None of them were very specific, but when they were put together, they created a fuller picture. When you put in the right keywords and followed enough secondary links, you even managed to find a few small studies from years and years ago.

Lycans lived like any other person, they had the same diets, human habits, same intelligence, they just had a genetic mutation. Nobody seems to be sure where it originated from or what exactly caused it—there’s plenty of religious theories—but blood samples showed a mixture of wolf and human intricately tied together. Autopsies revealed other strange mutations within the body that allowed them to shift between a human form and a quadrupedal wolf form. When in the wolf form, they were unable to talk but could still convey communication through retained human intelligence. It was all so interesting.

Reading through stories of the Lycan Massacre on the other hand, was devastating. There was so much hatred thrown at these people who had no say in how they were born, who had families and whole lives ahead of them. Hunted down and killed just because of misunderstandings and misplaced fear—farmers thinking Lycans killed their livestock, townspeople seeing things in the woods, general irrationality and hysteria. All of the Lycans were taken out and it’s assumed that any who managed to escape live out their days in total secrecy or as wild animals. If they’re discovered, well… you have proof of what happens to them.

Walking in to work the next day, you have a bit of a spring in your step. You finally managed to sleep, and you have a document that’s about twelve pages long and full of your research sitting on your laptop. You feel like you’re finally getting somewhere, like you’ll finally have something worthwhile to submit to Hux instead of hourly play by plays of how many times your subject moved his legs.

You walk down the halls, you give a courtesy nod to whoever you pass, you get into the elevator. You go down, down, down, all the way to the twentieth floor where you walk through more sterile, white hallways. There’s been a few additions to this floor, a few new experiments. They aren’t your concern though, you don’t have clearance to look at them, just like no one else has clearance to look at yours. Speaking of which, your badge gives you that lovely beep and then you’re through the door.

The beast-man immediately snaps to attention once you enter. It’s the same routine every day, where you’ll come in and he’ll study you, those undeniably pretty brown eyes always finding yours and communicating something you can’t quite understand. It always feels like there’s something on the edge of your mind when you look at him, but you can’t get a hold of it despite your efforts.

His chains rattle as he moves from where he’d been lying on his cot, which has now been upgraded to a bigger size thanks to your persistence. You went to Hux and asked him to put in a request for more enrichment and comforts within your subject’s cell on the basis that “it would improve research results”. A lie at the time, but you have noticed he seems more engaged and at ease with the extra blankets, pillows, and padding on the floor. You also met with the nutritionist so that he isn’t just eating raw meat day after day.

You notice his held tilt as you walk in. He sees the change in your demeanor, wonders what it could be for. His tail twitches behind him. “Good morning.” You say out of habit, even though you know he won’t say anything back. You often end up talking to yourself when you’re with him, filling the empty space with whatever’s on your mind just to get it out. He seems to listen rather intently and oddly enough, your voice also seems to calm him. It encourages you to keep going.

You set a few of your things on the ground. “I’ll be back in an hour or two. I have a few tests to run.” He watches you intensely as you head towards a door to your right, his body leaning forward to follow you. You shiver as goosebumps rise along your skin.

There’s blood samples waiting for you in the lab. They’d been taken in the dead of the morning and were prepped for processing, one of your coworkers on this project having let you know via email. They also let you know that those samples were not easy to get and required more than a few rounds of sedatives. Apparently, your subject had been able to smell the sedatives in his food and refused to eat so they had to do it the hard way. You can only imagine how much of a struggle that must’ve been.

You sigh and pull out one of the rolling chairs, using it to wheel around the lab room to get everything ready. Turning on the microscope, preparing the blood vials and testing strips, the glass slides, your notes. You start with a blood smear, the smear just a little wonky because you’ve never been able to get it perfect. You shake it to dry it—your least favorite part—and then slip it under the microscope. You take a minute to adjust it correctly, to get the image to come clearly through the lens. When you finally get it, you see all the little red blood cells come into focus. You move the slide around with the knobs of the microscope, inspecting carefully. You scribble things down on a notepad you have next to you that you’ll put in to your laptop later. Everything seems perfectly normal; no malformed cells, regular cell counts, and just all around healthy blood. That’s good to see.

Now to test something you’re far more curious about. You prepare all the reagents and machinery you’ll need for obtaining a DNA sample through blood, and then get to work on separating it from the rest of the blood sample. With the high tech of the First Order Agency, it’s able to cut down the wait time on a DNA blood test significantly from a few days to only a little over an hour. While working, you think about how much easier this would’ve been if you could’ve just gotten a swab of the inside of his mouth. Having seen those fangs though, you were not keen on trying to get one.

You wait for the final step of the testing to be finished, deciding to put in all your notes in the meantime. Hux will probably groan as soon as he sees your long, long document in his inbox. Once the test is done, you eagerly roll your chair over and start transferring the results. They come to you in the forms of graphs and charts, detailing the intricacies of his DNA and general ancestry that you aren’t really concerned about—he does have a good amount of German in him though. You’re more interested in what makes up his DNA and sure enough, you find it. On the second page, there’s a sector for anomalies noted within the coding. The one that takes up the most space is labeled under the Canis lupus family, making up about 51%. The other 49% is Homo sapien, as expected. So those studies online were correct, the DNA of Lycans is an almost perfect mix of wolf and human.

“Fascinating,” you mutter to yourself, feeling like you’re on cloud nine with all the new information you’ve been able to gather just in the last twenty-four hours. You’re finally getting somewhere.

You transfer the charts to your laptop and attach them to your document before beginning to clean up. You put in what needs to go in the autoclave, you toss the glass slides, and you make sure to sterilize everything. Before you leave the lab, you can’t help but hesitate. Your eyes slide to your right, where there’s another door. You know that door will lead to a hallway that’ll bring you to his cell. Bring you inside. The thought lasts for about a second before you dismiss it as you being insane.

The beast-man perks up again as you finally enter back into the observation room. You settle yourself in your usual spot on the floor, a comfortable distance away from him. “Sorry that took a little longer than expected. I was just testing your blood. Everything looked great.” You tell him. He doesn’t seem all that bothered either way. It amuses you.

You study him for a while, just like you always do. You watch how he moves, how he looks at you, how he inspects his dinner so carefully—definitely paranoid after the other workers tried to put sedatives in there. You’re glad to see his meal is a mixture of both raw and cooked meats, along with vegetables and fruits. You’d written to the nutritionalists to tell them what kind of meat he didn’t like based on your studies as well, so they no longer included those. He seems much more eager to eat with the new variety and it makes you happy.

He settles again afterwards, lounging around and staring at you. You work on your observation logs, inputting information, organizing it… it’s all a very familiar pattern. One you’ve grown accustomed to throughout the entirety of your-

“Kylo.”

You jolt, nearly jumping out of your own skin. Your head shoots up, brows deeply furrowed in confusion. Who…? You look towards the beast-man, whose intense eyes meet yours not a second later. Surely not?

But you watch as he speaks with a voice deep and rich. “My name is Kylo. Kylo Ren.”

You stand up so abruptly that your laptop falls to the ground with a clank and you stumble over your feet. “You can talk?!”

He squints at you. “Yes, of course I can. Are you stupid?”

You’re excitement deflates a little, an annoyed frown settling on your mouth. So his first words he says to you are mean, great. You push past that. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?” You think about how much you’ve talked to yourself around him while he understood every word and just chose not to speak. You feel embarrassment sizzle under your skin.

He sniffs. “I didn’t like you.”

“If you’re just going to be rude then feel free to go back to not speaking.” You say through gritted teeth.

“I feel that you can’t get on me for being rude when I’m the one locked in a cell.” He points out, shifting his body to sit facing you with his legs crossed. “I only speak now because it seems you’re trustworthy. I believe you don’t want to do this either.”

You falter at his words, at the way he’s able to see through you so easily. It’s like all those hours he’s spent staring at you was really just him reading you, gathering information of his own. You try to make some excuse. “Well I… it’s just a job.”

He hums. “I can see that you care too much, though. It eats through you. That’s why I decided to trust you.”

You don’t know what to think of his analysis, of him basically taking your thoughts from your head and laying them out before you. You sigh through your nose and sit back down on the ground. “Okay… well… would I be able to ask you some questions, Kylo?”

He seems delighted by you saying his name, his ears perking atop his head and his tail giving the smallest twitch. His head tilts to the left. “Go ahead. I’ll answer what I want to.”

“I figured.” You mutter. You pull your laptop back to you, opening a voice note to record. You press start. “Alright… let’s start with the basics. How old are you?”

“I think 29.”

You cock a brow at that but continue on. “What are you?”

“You’ve done enough research to know that.”

You sigh again, heavier this time. “Please just answer.”

“A werewolf.”

That’s a new term you haven��t really heard before. You saw it once or twice while researching; it seems to be a modern word to describe what Kylo is. Older reports preferred to use the more common, scientific term of Lycan. “Okay, and where are you from?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

You lift your head, confusion on your face. “What?”

“I don’t know where I’m from.” Kylo says. “I was taken from my home as a child, because of what I am. The man that took me wanted me for my strength and potential to bring him money.” You can see how his eyes glisten with pain from the memory. Perhaps that’s what all his scars are from.

“Who is he?” You ask.

“It doesn’t matter. I killed him.” He says it so bluntly, as if there’s nothing to it. Like he didn’t just admit to a heinous crime that would no doubt get him killed in no time. “Although, he did exactly what you all do. He studied me, ran his tests. Kept me in a cage.”

You shrink under the accusatory tone even though you know none of this is your fault. You clear your throat. “What happened after you… killed him?”

“I had nowhere to go. I stayed as a wolf, it was easier. It’s been years.” He says, right ear twitching against his hair. You catch on to his words, on to anything he gives you that’ll improve your research. So he can turn into a wolf… that must’ve been what that first report you got of him had been based on. “I wanted to go back home, but that man affected my memory. He took me halfway across the continent. But it’s coming back now, I can feel it. I know where I need to go.”

“You do? Could you explain that?” You ask, a little too eager.

“It’s not something to explain.” He snaps. “It’s just… something leading me in the right direction. I was close before I got caught here.” He’s angry about that, you can see it in the way his brows furrow and his fists clench. You understand him, if you’d been within reach of your goal after years of work and then it got ruined, you’d be pissed.

Then he looks to you. “That’s why I need your help.”

“Wh- me?” You splutter. “How would I help you?”

“You’re smarter than that.” Kylo taunts. He’s right, you know exactly what he means, but you don’t like it. “Get me out of here. Help me get home. You know you don’t want to see me in here.”

“Quit assuming you know me. I’m here to do a job, that’s all this is. I can’t give up my entire livelihood just to break you out.” You say roughly.

He leans towards you, big black tail swishing against the floor behind him. “But you feel it, don’t you? Something deeper.”

For a moment, you don’t know what he means. But then something inside you seems to click, and you recall that first day you saw him. When you’d met his eyes, and you’d felt that tug. A tug that came from some higher plane, a thing you had no control over. It made you feel right when you were near him but then felt wrong when you weren’t, like when you’d gone home and a new type of loneliness you’d never experienced before had consumed you. You’d chalked it up to just stress from the new assignment, and that’s exactly what you’ll do now. You have no idea what it could mean and despite your job, you don’t have an interest in finding out. Kylo smirks at you knowingly and you realize you haven’t dealt with someone this aggravating for a while.

You press stop on the voice note. “I think that’s about it for today.” You shove all your things in your bag, being less than gentle. You stand as the lights begin to dim for the evening, turning towards the door.

“Wait.”

You stop, even though it’s probably against your best interest. You twist your head to look back at Kylo.

“Don’t send them that recording.” He says. He doesn’t explain himself, he feels like he doesn’t have to. He knows you’ll understand. You hate that he’s right. You hesitate for a second, debating on whether to give him a response. You can’t promise you’ll do anything—this project would benefit heavily from it being known that he can speak and communicate but… it’ll probably only bring him harm. You want to slam your head into something. If you knew this damn assignment would cause so many conflicting ideas and emotions, you wouldn’t have accepted it. You rip open the door without saying a word to him.

When you get home that night, in the dimness of your living room with only the light of your laptop, you delete the voice note.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Tags (comment if you’d like to be tagged next time!); @bullet-clubs-bitch @hazydespair

⇦ Part 1

Part 3 ⇨

#was trying to remember when I did blood testing in my class 💀#fighting for my LIFE #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren fanfic #kylo #kylo fanfic #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo x you #werewolf kylo ren #werewolf au #werewolf fanfic #werewolf x reader

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oceansssblue · 9 months ago

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~[MAGICAL CREATURES SERIES] –THE BAD BATCH AU (N5)

"NOT A DOG" WRECKER/WEREWOLF!OFC

AN INJURED VALERIE GETS RESCUED BY ONE OF THE KINDEST HUMANS SHE HAS EVER SEEN. IF THE BLONDE KID AND THE VERY BIG SOLDIER THINK SHE'S A REGULAR WOLF WHILE THEY KEEP HER HIDDEN AND SAFE IN THEIR SHIP... OH WELL... SHE'S CONTENT TO PLAY THE PART UNTIL SHE'S HEALED AND READY TO LEAVE.

WARNINGS: VIOLENCE (FIGHTS, BLOOD), ATTEMPTED FORCED MATE-MARKING IN THE FIRST PART, MENTIONS OF FAMILY LOSS 💔, OTHERWISE PURE FLUFFY FLUFF 💖

The wolf backed slowly into the tree. Her usually beautiful caramel fur was matted down to her skin with dirt and soil; blood darkening her light colour. She had a deep gash slicing across her back; minor gashes spread throughout her body and two bite marks sinked in each side of her neck. Everything hurt as hell. She had been fighting them off for almost two hours, now; exhaustion creeping in each of her weared bones. If it were a one vs one, Valerie was sure she would have been able to rip his throat off. But this wasn't a fair game; and no matter how brave and strong she was, the female werewolf wasn't enough to fight a whole wolfpack.

She snapped her powerful jaw in a warning, eying warily –and worriedly– the wolves that circled around her. She had known stepping into strangers territory wasn't a good idea to start with; but she hadn't been able to transform in almost a year now –never finding the right spot or moment in her jumps across the galaxy– and the beautiful forest of Ilyan posed too much of a temptation. Valerie had hoped to enjoy a quiet moment of peace, tuned in with her second form –which most of the times felt like her true one–; had wished to find friends and not enemies in case she came across another werewolf.

She hadn't had such luck. She had noticed them tracking her, first; her careful hearing always aware of her surroundings and her delicate nose picking up their smell. They were wary of her, and up to that point that was perfectly normal; she was a stranger in their woods, and Valerie understood the need to protect their place, their pack. She had called to them, her soft howl interrumpting the quiet silence of the night; friendly posture ingrained in her body as soon as the two wolves stepped away from the shadows and cautiously aproached her.

She had patiently waited for their veredict. Her tail moved slowly from one side to the other, clearly showing she wasn't meant to be a threat to them; happy chirps and excited sounds escaping her mouth with the new company.

It had been years since she had seen another werewolf. They were far and in between, nowadays; where before The Clone Wars there had been dozens of settlements across the galaxy, now there were only three. Ilya, Acaris, and Templa; three moons in the Outer Rim where her species had congregated, while a bunch of lonely other ones like her travelled across the galaxy.

Valerie had had a pack too, once. She used to belong to a group of ten; a true brother and nine wolfpack ones. She had been the only survival of a fight with another clan; and had left Acaris behind. She behaved like just another regular human, nowadays. However, it was nice to get back to her wolf form from time to time.

The two dark color wolves stepped towards her. Wolves were admirable creatures; with the elegant way they walked and the powerful strengh of their paws and jaws.

They smelled the air and Valerie waited. Her mind was already spinning with the possibilities. Could she enjoy a hunt with them? Speak to them in their human forms once the night had ended? Would they welcome her for a few days? It would be wonderful to make a stop in her endless travelling and take a rest.

The snout of one of the wolves pressed to the side of her neck. Valerie made a small noise, eagerly letting herself be scented and without really thinking on it, giving the black fur in front of her an affectionate lick with her tongue. The wolf let out a content rumble, and defensive posture forgotten, pushed softly against her, indicating they were good to play. Valerie smiled in her wolf form and carefully tackled the black wolf down. He inmediately growled and turned the situation around, biting her playfully and fully engaging in their game. The black-grey wolf that had been observing them for the time being finally decided to step in too, and soon the three of them were rolling around in the ground and jumping on top of each other like old friends.

Half an hour later, Valerie sprawled out in the grass, breath heaving and tongue lolling out. One of the wolves layed down besides her, both of their furs pressing together comfortingly; while the other, the black one that had first aproached her, half-acomodated himself on top of her. Valerie let him be. It wasn't an inusual thing in werewolves; they often cuddled in piles and protected themselves that way. She was happy to have been accepted by them.

She gently licked the black-grey fur of the wolf on her side; giving some comfort after the playfight. The black wolf half on top of her did the same to her; Valerie's tail wagging happily against the floor at the feeling. It had been so long since someone had taken care of her...

The black wolf moved towards her neck, nose twiching against it and distracting himself in her unusual curious smell again. Valerie scented him back, a natural reaction of all werewolves. Her whole body petrified and her mood swinged drastically when she felt the press of his sharp teeth on her bond spot. One deep bite in and she would be marked by him; soul always longing for his even if she were allowed to live separated from him.

She snarled and snapped her jaw at him, quickly jumping over him and biting him in a clear warning. His bitter blood filled her mouth. The black wolf quickly retailed; faster than she was able to dodge, he swipped his claws across her back. At the same time, the other wolf jumped into the fight as well, quickly tackling her over and snapping his jaw shut over the oposite side of her neck with an angry growl.

Valerie whimpered, body spasming with pain momentarily before she clawed and bit her way out of his grasp. Knowing they were no longer her friends –and probably never had been–, she sprang into a run. She fighted them for what seemed an eternity to her –other wolves adding themselves to her hunt–; an hour later, she was forcedly cornered against a five-person wolfpack.

Valerie tried to hide her fear. In the best situation, the male black werewolf would sink his teeth in his bond-spot and her soul would always be attached to his. In the worst, the wolfpack would rape or kill her. Her big amber eyes glazed over; a helpless whine escaping her throat while she shuffled her paws in place. She wanted neither of those to happen.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Are those.... Oh my god, Wrecker, are those wolves?!"

Omega's excited voice echoed in the silence of the forest, inmediatly attracting the wolfpack's attention; two of them growling warningly towards them.

Wrecker identified the danger they posed; and quickly pushed Omega to a stop, clasping his hand on her shoulder and forcing her to abandon her eager advance towards the clearly agitated wolves.

Omega frowned in confusion. Her eyes flickered back to the scene. She was able to quickly recognise the situation then, after her second glance; the five dark colored wolves were closing in threateningly into the caramel one, whose blood was now making a slow small puddle onto the grass below him. They were definitely not friends; and not friendly towards the newcomers either.

Omega gulped and slowly closed her fingers around her bow.

"Why do you think they're fighting?" She whispered, stepping closer to Wrecker warily.

He too was lost analysing the scene. The caramel wolf was clearly gravely injured and on heavy disadvantage; it was almost heartbreaking, really, the way such a beautiful animal cowered in front of the rest of them, whimpering and shaking in pain and tiredness.

"I dunno' " he answered, deep voice capturing again the wolfpack's attention and dividing their focus between himself and their pray. "But it doesn't look fair to me".

One of the black wolves slowly stepped closer to the caramel one, who whimpered and snarled weakly at him.

Omega bit her lip, her innocent heart filling with worry.

"Can we help him?" She asked, situation imposible for her not to try to interfere.

Wrecker frowned. He wanted to, as well; to prevent this poor animal's death. He was a bit worried about the guys finding out he had allowed Omega to jump into trouble, though. But he couldn't leave it like that.

"Uh, oh... I guess" he ended up nodding, and they both readied themselves.

One of the wolves suddenly turned towards them, as if having heard their quiet conversation and retaliated against their decision. He jumped towards Omega. The girl didn't waste any time in using her bow to defend herself; injuring the wolf with surprisingly good aim. He snarled angrily at them, and soon the five wolves were changing their objective and stalking towards them.

Wrecker warily pointed them with his blaster; Omega waiting equally expectant beside him. One wolf leaped towards them, and then there was caos; a mix of fur, claws, and sharp teeth trying to get to them. They holded them off; though some of them managed to take a superficial swipe at both of them. When one threatened to jump on Omega's back while she was distracted pointing her bow at another, the caramel wolf sprung into action, intercepting it mid jump and saving her for a few inches. Omega gasped in surprise and felt equally grateful while trying to help him.

Minutes later, the five wolves retreated slowly, sparkling yellow eyes fixed on the three creatures in front of them. The caramel wolf was positioned in between the two humans; big strong man and a kid with an electric weapon and good aim. Their stance was protective and defensive; female wolf growling low in her throat and ready to take a chance on them.

The black wolf that seemed to work as their leader howled. Some of then joined; and then, with a last lingering glance, and a growl that sounded almost like a chuckle, they turned and slowly walked away.

Omega sighed and smiled. She was tired, but happy of having been able to help the wolf besides her.

"You're safe now, buddy" she told him, carefully placing her hand on top of her head and scratching softly.

The caramel wolf whimpered and pushed his snout against her hand, accepting the gesture surprisingly fast for a wild animal like that one. It would be the relief after such adrenaline.

Wrecker observed the scene.

"He's got some deep wounds there" he commented, examining the wolf in front of them carefully. "Dunno' if he's gonna' be able to make it".

Omega's eyes widenned. Surely he could, right? They hadn't saved him for nothing.

"But we can help him, Wreck! We can take him back to the Marauder and apply some bacta on him. I think it works well with animals too!"

Wrecker sighed. There was no point in dennying her. His conscience wouldn't feel good leaving the poor animal in such a state; and Omega's big eyes were impossible to deal with. He studied how the injured animal trembled in exhaustion –and probably blood loss– and sighed again.

"Alright. You take my backpack. I guess this guy's my new one."

Omega chuckled, and helped Wrecker position the wolf over his back. Surprisingly, he let them push him around; only whimpering and whinning in pain here and there.

"He's so hurt he doesn't even have much of that wary animal instinct anymore" she whispered sadly, caressing his fur affectionately.

Wrecker hummed and stood up, holding the animal tightly against his back. This had to be one of his weirdest experiences.

"Don't worry, Mr wolf" he mumbled, gruntin under his weight while they started making their way back to the ship. "We'll take care of you".

Wrecker felt the cold nose of the animal press against his neck before the animal passed out and his weight turned heavier.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Smuggling a big wolf into her room in the Marauder without Hunter or the others noticing it was probably one of Omega's biggest acomplishments. She was pressed up against him, now, patiently waiting for Wrecker to come back with the medicines; eyes focused on her new injured hairy friend.

The wolf had his amber eyes closed; panting heavily against the floor, tiny whimpers shaking his injured body intermitently. Omega winced and softly shushed him. Oh, Maker, it was definitively going to be a challenge to keep him hidden from Hunter.

"I know it hurts, Mr Wolf, but you can't make much noise" she whispered to him, fingers carefully caressing the fur of his head. "My brother has perfect hearing and he's gonna' be mad if he finds out".

The wolf didn't make a sound.

Omega sighed in relief and beamed at Wrecker's arrival; inmediately grabbing the bacta pack he offered her and puting her hands to work.

"Got a clean cloth? I don't think we should put the bacta with all this dirt on".

Wrecker nodded and cleaned the wounds himself. The wolf tensed, and both clones could feel his pain; yet he didn't release a whine or whimper, obeying Omega's request. The girl started to ponder if the creature was more intelligent than the regular wolf. They were, after all, in the Outer Rim; and strange things hapened here.

They got the animal fixed in the next couple of minutes. They disinfected the gashes and bite marks –those look specially painfull–, and smoothed bacta cream over them, adding a patch on one side of his neck. Omega bandaged him; and the wolf, half conscious, didn't protest.

"Okay, buddy, I think we got you all fixed up" Wrecker mumbled, akwardly patting his head.

He studied Omega en silence.

"You sure sleeping with him is a good idea? What if he bites you or wakes up angry?" He hesitated.

He wasn't the most cautious of his brothers; but even he could see the risk.

Omega smiled soothingly.

"That won't happen" she affirmed, sure of herself. "Mr Wolf knows we've helped him and won't harm us. Isn't that right, buddy?"

Wrecker had to cover his mouth not to laugh out loud when, as an answer, the animal opened his impressive jaw and licked across Omega's face with his largue tongue. She groaned and cleaned the spit and blood of. Mr Wolf was definitively getting a sonic tomorrow.

"Okay, I think that's confirmation enough" the clone smiled. "G'night, Meg".

"Night, Wrecker".

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As Omega had predicted, the wolf didn't show any signs of agression towards either of them. The animal seemed pretty comfortable with the two; always pressing his snout and head against them and demanding attention, and even using his paws to call them. He was astonishingly intelligent; he understood basic, apparently, because he followed Omega's orders to perfection without having to repeat herself.

That was probably the only reason why they had managed to keep him a secret for five whole days. Omega had tried to trick Hunter's sense of smell covering the animal in her and Wrecker's clothes; always leaving the door of her tiny room closed. He was wary, that's for sure; but wary and angry were too different things and Omega was happy with their current situation.

When Hunter finally did confront them, Wrecker couldn't think of anything else than blurting out "It's a dog! That's the secret. We're keeping a dog"; which admitedly worked wonders with Hunter's heightened senses. He must had definitively smelled an animal; a canine, to be exact, and oh well, Mr Wolf was just of the same family.

Omega loved sleeping with Mr Wolf. He was the perfect pillow; and always warmed her up when she was cold. She had grown to see him as a friend; and the girl knew he did too. Well, maybe not as a proper friend; but someone to take care of and protect, by the way his eyes always carefully and patiently studied her and how he always tried to make everything easier for her. She knew Wrecker felt the same way. On the rare ocasion that the rest of the Batch left to look for supplies and they both stayed behind, she had seen Mr Wolf cuddling up to him as well. Omega had even watched them play tackle with each other; the sight of his big brother and her strong fluffy friend rolling around and laughing always bringing a smile to her face.

Inevitably, they had to tell the truth. It was obviously weird they never wanted the boys to see their "puppy"; and the excuse that he was too scared and still getting used to the Marauder didn't work anymore. Omega played with her own fingers nervously while Wrecker sighed and went to find Mr Wolf; Echo's, Tech's and Hunter's eyes focused on her own with various degrees of frustration and confusion. She prayed they didn't force her friend to go.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Valerie's tongue playfully loled out of her mouth when seing Wrecker's aproach. She had learned not to make a sound in the ship, so she showed all of her emotions and words with her expresions and the postures of her body. This one said she was happy to see him, impatient, even. She was growing a bit bored of having to be trapped in Omega's small room the whole day; wishing she could go anywhere she wanted without the risk of getting expelled of the Marauder.

The truth was that she had quickly grown very fond of the two strangers. They were gentle, innocent souls; and Valerie felt the natural fierce need to protect them as if they were her own. She hadn't felt such peace since losing her family in Ascaris; and the empty sad feeling that had always stayed with her since then had slowly started to melt away. It was a silly hope to keep, she was aware; her two new friends would probably feel betrayed when finding the truth about her, and the rest of the squad aparently wouldn't even accept her in her animal form. Still, she couldn't help but dream.

"Follow me, buddy" he mumbled. "No more hiding now".

Valerie felt a bit confused by Wrecker's words; but assumed he ment his brothers had left the ship to explore the city they had stopped in and diligently followed him through the corridor. Her paws gently echoed against the floor. She pressed her nose against Wreckers hand and felt a growing anxious feeling when he didn't seem to notice it, lost in thought.

They reached the cockpit, where she had played with Wrecker dozens of times before, and...

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech blinked.

"That's definitively not a dog".

END OF PART 1.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

PART 2 HERE:

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wild-karrde · 1 year ago

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sajfaeuqo6fdkgxlhseualufp I literally never self promote, but I'm so proud of this fic and the work I put into it (I think close to 7 straight hours of writing) that I want to share it with everyone, even though I know it's a little niche. but here is my submission for this week, again for our dear Daiyu veteran Tai

https://www.tumblr.com/imarvelatthestars/729439093632778240/a-little-more-alive?source=share

HELL YEAH SELF-PROMO AND HELL YEAH FOR SPOOPY SEASON FICS!! I am all about sending fics in that you wrote, especially ones you spent a lot of time and effort on. YOU SHOULD BE PROUD! And I LOOOOVE this concept (honestly, very much love fics like this that pop up during this time of hear). Thanks so much for sending this in!!!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

#FANDOM FRIDAY #creator appreciation #fic rec #fanfiction #fan fic #star wars #obi-wan kenobi #clone trooper nax #clone trooper tai #tai x reader #tai x you #nax x reader #nax x you #werewolf au

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fantasyqueen502 · 2 years ago

Text

Masterlist

Imagines and Miscellaneous Drabbles

(Feel free to re-blog and comment)

G: General audiences (All ages admitted)

PG: Parental guidance suggested – Some material may not be suitable for children.

PG-13: Parents strongly cautioned – Some material may be inappropriate for children under 13. (mild depictions of blood or violence, minor mentions of sex, and language)

R: Restricted – Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian. (Graphic/explicit depictions of blood, sex, violence, and strong language.)

Elsa’s Masquerade- Elsa x Female reader (Rated: G)

Ineffable gift- (Rated: PG-13)

Dragon and his keeper- Aemond Targaryen x male reader (Rated: PG-13)

Lady Strong- Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader (Rated: PG-13)

Mrs. Miller (Rated: PG)

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 2 (Rated: PG)

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 3 (Rated: PG, R in the last third)

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 4 (Rated: PG)

Mrs. Miller: Chapter 5 (Rated: PG)

Apple Pie- Joel Miller x Reader/Y/N (Gender neutral) (Rated: PG)

Dog Lady-(Rated: PG-13)

Wrong (Rated: PG-13)

Spider Samurai (Rated: PG-13)

Who are you? (Rated: PG)

Chili Mango Run- (Rated: PG)

Not a Robot- (Rated: PG-13)

Lunch- (Rated: G)

Officer O'Hara- (Rated: PG)

At Peace- Jedi! Female reader/OC x Poe Dameron (Rated: PG-13)

Dinner first- Poe Dameron x (gender neutral) reader (Rated: PG-13)

Kiss of Life: (PG-13)

Sam the Samaritan- Poe Dameron x male alien (Rated: PG)

Happenstance- Daryl Dixon x unnamed male OC (Rated: PG-13)

Lazy Day- Jack Russell x Oc (Rated: PG)

"If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands!"- Jaskier x female reader (Rated: PG-13)

I am a husband now, a father, and damn good one- Jaskier X male reader (Rated: PG-13)

Three- Kane x (female unnamed) OC (Rated: PG-13)

Violet- Kane x female OC (Rated: PG-13)

Fourteen- Duke Leto x (female) reader (Rated: PG-13)

In Sickness and in Health- (Rated: PG-13)

Madam Persephone- (Rated: R)

Jessamy- (Rated: PG-13)

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crosshairscrustysock · 1 year ago

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Kinktober Day 8 - Breeding

Summary: Your most fertile time of the month hits on a full moon. Your werewolf boyfriend can’t help himself.

Pairing: Wolffe x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, werewolf!Wolffe, mating, breeding, breeding kink, lots of talk of pregnancy, werewolf sex, scratching, licking, knotting, graphic description of a werewolf transformation, talk of pregnancy, established consenting relationship.

A/N: I think this is easily one of my favorites of all of the fics this month. Love some good werewolf smut.

MASTERLIST

You lean against Wolffe as you relax on the couch, attempting to watch the movie playing on the screen. It’s hard with his hands squeezing and trailing your body. It’s the full moon tonight, which means he’s a bit...more than usual.

He nuzzles against your neck, forcing your head to the side so he can sniff at the skin. A low growl rumbles through his chest, his tongue darting out to lap at the side of your neck.

“Babe,” You whine, trying to push him away, but his grip tightens around you. “That tickles.”

“Smell so good.” He growls, nipping at your skin. “Good enough to eat.”

“Wolffe!” You gasp as he nibbles on your throat, hands holding you so tight it’s almost painful.

He maneuvers you onto your back on the couch, slotting his body between your thighs as he sniffs at you, lips dragging along your skin. He ruts against you, hard cock dragging across your pelvis as he laps at your throat.

“Wolffe, what’s gotten into you?” You ask with a laugh. This wasn’t typical behavior during the full moon. He got touchy and needy sometimes, but never this...desperate.

“Need to breed you.” He growls, pulling away from your throat to stare down at you. One eye milky white, the other glowing yellow.

Your breath catches in your throat. He lets out a roar rearing back away from you. Your heart is pounding in your chest as he growls, body twisting and writhing as he begins to transform. You slide off the couch onto the floor, knowing you should run, you should barricade yourself somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to move. He’s never transformed in front of you before, though you have seen him in his wolf form.

His body contorts as his bones begin to snap, rearranging themselves. His clothes stretch until they rip, his body growing larger, his muscles becoming more defined. His face elongates, taking the shape of a muzzle as silver hair begins to sprout across his body. His fingers elongate into sharp claws, his groans dying off into whimpers as he fully transforms.

Not a man, but not quite a wolf either.

You stay still, trying to calm your racing heart and rapid breaths. You’re not sure if he’s even going to remember you when he finally notices you. If you run, you know it’ll be the end no matter what. You’ll trigger his predator instincts, and there’s no way you can outrun him, not even to the closest door that might be able to hold him at bay.

“Wolffe?” You whisper, stomach churning anxiously.

His head snaps towards you, lips lifting in a snarl, revealing sharp teeth that could tear your throat out easily. His nose wiggles as he sniffs the air, another low growl leaving him. It sends shivers down your spine, goosebumps erupting on your skin. He shifts his body to face you, and you take notice of the large, red appendage dangling between his legs.

Your eyes widen, breath catching in your throat. That hadn’t been there when you saw him in his werewolf form before.

You fight the urge to back away as he stalks towards you on four paws, looking very much like a wolf. He crawls over you, pausing to shove his nose into your lower abdomen. You can feel his snuffling breaths, his exhales warm through the thin fabric of your shirt. He lifts his head to look at you, licking his lips.

Something dawns on you then. He had said you smell good, that he wants to breed you. Your last period was two weeks ago.

You’re ovulating.

He crawls closer over you, until you’re face to face. He continues to press forward, forcing you back until you’re laying on the floor under his hulking form. He leans down, his cold, wet nose pressing into your neck. His breath tickles as he sniffs you, your heart still thumping in your chest. He can probably hear it, hell he can probably smell the nerves, the fear.

Something warm and wet touches your skin, dragging along the length of your neck. It’s his tongue, much longer and thicker in this form. You hold your breath as he licks you from shoulder to jaw, a quiet rumbling sounding in his chest. One of his clawed hands lifts and for a horrifying moment you think he’s going to claw you to death, but instead his fingers wrap around the neck of your shirt before he pulls it off you, ripping the fabric into shreds.

You’ve gone without a bra as you usually do, your nipples pebbling in the cool air. His tongue travels down your neck to your chest, dragging along the skin. It’s slightly rough, a strange sensation on your sensitive body. You gasp as his tongue drags over your nipple, flicking against the sensitive bud. Your panties are starting to get damp, another rumble vibrating through his chest.

He can likely smell that too.

His clawed hands make quick work of your pants and underwear too, shredding them to pieces. He forces his way between your thighs, muzzle pressing right up against your pussy. His breaths are hot against the dampness, teeth grazing your folds as he smells you. It’s erotic really, the idea of a transformed werewolf between your thighs. You’ve had him in his human form more times than you can count during your relationship.

But never like this.

You can’t help but wonder if he’ll even remember it.

The long, rough tongue drags through your folds, a harsh gasp being torn from your lips. Your head snaps up, staring down at him between your legs. His ears twitch, tickling your knees. He stares back at you, a very human look in his eyes. For a moment you can believe Wolffe has control, that it really is him looking at you behind those eyes.

Your face heats as you’re exposed to him, but you can’t deny the arousal dripping down your thighs. It’s thrilling, the thought of being taken by Wolffe in his wolf form. He was always a bit animalistic in bed, even during your softest moments. You never imagined you’d get a chance to do this.

You let out a startled scream as he pounces on you, clawed fingers sinking into your skin as he flips you over onto your stomach. Your skin burns where his claws punctured your hips, but he doesn’t pay your discomfort any mind. He pulls your back end up so you’re on your knees, presenting yourself to him.

You feel the thick head of his cock push against your folds, your legs parting just slightly to try and give him more room. It burns as he begins to push into you, the stretch almost too much. He’s so much bigger in this form, almost double the thickness and length.

You whimper as he presses further in, cheek pressed against the wood floor. A clawed hand plants itself by your head, his body folding over yours as he presses his cock inside you. You breathe deeply attempting to relax as he forces his way in, stretching you open.

A breathy moan is pulled from your lips as he seats himself inside you, his tip bumping your cervix. Soft fur tickles your skin from where you’re pressed together, a deep rumbling growl sounding in his chest. He draws his hips back before snapping them into yours, jolting your body from the force of his thrust. Your eyes roll back as he stretches you, hitting every possible spot inside you with his huge cock.

He pulls back before snapping his hips against you once more, growling lowly as he continues to move slowly. You gasp with each thrust, sweat sticking your skin against the floor. He’s so big, nearly splitting you open with each thrust into your pussy.

He begins to move faster, dragging his hips against your ass as he thrusts deeply. Your lips part, moans and whimpers leaving you as he brushes against that spot with every thrust. You clamp around him, legs threatening to give out as he drags the first orgasm from you. He lets out a growl, clawed fingers dragging along your side as you spasm around him.

He doesn’t slow his thrusts, pushing you past the point of overstimulation. You’re beginning to ache from the stretch, from the pounding you’re taking as he ruts into you. You’re going to have a hell of a time walking tomorrow.

His furry chest presses into your back as his thrusts get deeper, his growls rumbling in your ear. Drool drips onto your shoulder, sliding across your skin as he pants and growls. You’re cumming again, legs nearly giving out as fluid splashes onto the hardwood floor. Wolffe lets out a howl, something pushing against your entrance.

You let out a cry as the base of his cock begins to swell, stretching your opening even further than it already was. You’re certain something is going to tear, something is going to give as he stretches you even more. It hurts, but the pain drags another orgasm from you, your vision almost going dark for a moment.

You come back as something spurts against your cervix, his hot seed filling you. It’s almost too much as he continues to cum, the pressure almost overwhelming. You’re certain if you could move, you’d find a bulge in your stomach from him.

He nuzzles against your shoulder, lapping at the skin as you shake and shudder under him. You’re so stretched and full, your body feeling like it’s taken a beating from him. He lets out a quiet sound, wrapping an arm around your stomach before you’re flipped easily onto your side.

His fur is soft as he tucks you against his chest, curling his body around you as you stay locked together. You wonder if it will actually work, if in a couple weeks you’ll find you are pregnant, that he was successful. You reach a hand down, sliding over the bulge in your lower abdomen. Perhaps in a few weeks, there will be a bump there for another reason.

Perhaps in a couple weeks you’ll be carrying his pups.

Ragu list:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink @lickylickylicky @sweetheartsnips @commanderblood @ghostperson69 @captain_rexs_cyare

#werewolf wolffe? okay 🥵#star wars #star wars fic #the clone wars #the clone wars fic #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #x reader #clone thirsting #kinktober 2023

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skzdarlings · 3 months ago

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everything ; skz ; werewolf!felix x reader

requested by @yongbbokkie: if possible, can I have Sunshine!Felix with the prompt/s: ❛ i'm waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you. ❜ and ❛ do whatever you want with me, i'm yours. ❜

((maybe it's a pining from afar situation and something puts them in close quarters and Felix just can't help himself anymore))

read on ao3

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: werewolf!au. friends2lovers. miscommunication and misunderstandings followed by resolution and smut. mentions of reader being in a past abusive relationship though the circumstances are not detailed. not omegaverse just werewolves but mentions of rut cycles and slightly different physiology.

this is, um, the wettest thing i've ever written. there is no other word for it. so much come, masturbating (reader walks in on felix), pervy masturbating using reader's stuff lol, massive breeding kink, multiple rounds, scenting, possessiveness, throat-grabbing, biting, pussy eating, squirting, dirty talk. did i mention come.

word count: 15800 words. (hope it makes up for the delay hehe)

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy <3

For a few moments, Felix is yours. There is no awkwardness, no reluctance, just dancing, just friendship.

The club is packed so tightly, the lights and music as roaring as lightning and thunder. The extra stimulation overwhelms the senses, even werewolf senses. He doesn’t think and neither do you. You just dance, finding each other in the bouncing circle of your half-drunk friend group. He smiles and you take his hand, letting him pull you across the dance floor and into his arms.

You’ve missed this smile. You’ve missed these arms.

Sure, Felix is still your best friend and he is never truly far. The distance is not literal, just emotional, and that is so much worse.

Ever since his werewolf genes kicked in, ever since a pack took him in, things have just been… different.

Right now, you can pretend nothing has changed. You are far away from ivory moons waning over woodlands, of werewolf packs and supernatural powers. His senses are diluted here, overpowered by so many moving bodies and so much wild noise.

Felix smiles, that wonderful big smile that crinkles his eyes so sweetly. Lights flash over him, his blonde hair nearly glowing, his freckles like stars. He’s your best friend again. All yours for a few precious moments.

He’s bigger than he was, you think, with a bit of a flush, as you dance closer to him, his arms circling your body. Or maybe I just never noticed before.

Felix is not very tall, but he is not small either, lean and athletic and confident in every inch of his body. It feels like he is everywhere. Every time a strobe light flashes over him, he seems a little closer. You breathe in his cologne, subtler than it used to be because his sense of smell is so powerful now, but still recognizable.

You are definitely not a werewolf, but you are captivated by that smell. Something oak, woodsy, masculine but pretty. So very Felix. You want to bathe in that smell, luxuriate in him. You spent so many nights curled into his side, sharing his bed, wearing one of his hoodies, that you associate that scent with everything good, safe, and home.

His hands dance up your sides very softly, his breath puffing across your cheek as you dance and dance. One song pours into the next. You lose track of time. In forgetting the world, you forget yourself. You slide your arms around his shoulders and press close to him.

You used to hug him like this so easily, but you have hardly touched him at all the last few months. Felix could never be cruel to anyone so he has not outright rejected your usual closeness, but it is obvious that your touch now makes him uncomfortable. The last thing you ever, ever want to do is hurt Felix. So you have followed his lead. Every time he accidentally pulls a face – a displeased twitch of his nose, an upset furrow of his brow – you have backed away.

It’s just the werewolf senses, you keep telling yourself. He’s more sensitive now, that’s all.

He still hugs the others. The werewolf boys love rough-housing, in fact, tumbling all over each other constantly.

That’s different. Yes, very different than this, right here, right now, his hands sliding down your sides – slowly, like he is memorizing the shape of your waist. He squeezes your hips and it fills you with heat. His hot face touches yours, cheek to cheek. The music is pounding, a frantic sound, but you are slow dancing, keeping to the rhythm of your heartbeats where they beat against each other.

You slide a hand up the back of his neck, into his long blonde hair. You feel the shudder move through his whole body. It makes your legs feel weak, realizing the effect you have on him. It seems impossible, especially with how much he has pushed you away, but there is no way he is shivering for any other reason. He cannot possibly be cold. The club is packed and, besides, he is not human. He runs hot.

So hot. He radiates it, burning where your bodies press together. Felix has always been the sunshine that keeps you warm, but this is a different heat. You know better than to succumb to it, knowing this moment will pass, but right now it is so easy to cling to him, to breathe him in, to feel like the world is just you and him.

The real world soon returns. It’s getting late so your friends call it a night.

“We’ll drop you off, yeah?” Chan says to you. Felix lives with him and the other wolves now. They all have their own apartments but they live in the same high-rise. You live a few blocks down, close, but not quite belonging.

“I don’t mind walking,” you say.

You do not want to intrude and you do not want to make Felix uncomfortable. He doesn’t even know Chan is offering you a ride because he standing so far away.

Felix is looking at his phone, slouched against the car while everyone organizes themselves. He is wearing a leather jacket, a white shirt, blue jeans, his long hair falling into his face. You want to brush it back, feel it between your fingers. You want to lift his face and see his smile.

But he doesn’t look at you. Now that you are outside, now that the heat has dissipated and the cold breeze carries your bland, dull, human scent, now that he can remember you are not special and not like him – now, he is someone else, and you are too, and it is cold and dreary and miserable.

“What?” Chan says. He is such a good pack leader and a good friend, but it makes him utterly oblivious to little dramas like this. “You’re not walking by yourself this late at night, don’t be crazy. Come on.”

The pack leader does not take no for an answer. Even though you are not in the pack, being human, there is no refusing Bang Chan. He grabs you by the wrist and drags you to his car.

Jeongin is in the front seat. Seungmin takes a back corner before Felix can lift his head, before he even knows you will be in the car too.

Felix looks tense when realizes he is trapped with you. Whether he takes the middle seat or the other corner, you will be beside him. If standing together outside is so intolerable, then being in a car is going to be torturous.

“I can walk,” you say to him.

“What?” He shakes his head. When he smiles, it is not his usual smile, not something real. You know the difference. His proper smile brightens you but this smile makes your heart sink. “Of course not,” he says. “C’mon. It’s late. Let’s get home, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, but he is already gone, taking all sense of home with him.

You take the middle seat. Felix rolls his window down and leans towards it. His eyes are closed the entire journey, the wind blowing across his tired face.

Seungmin is also a werewolf but he does not seem bothered by your human scent. Jeongin and Chan, the other packmates, likewise seem indifferent, chatting about everything and nothing, totally unperturbed. And you must cross paths with many werewolves during the day, but no one ever seems bothered by you.

Felix is the only werewolf who seems to have a problem with your scent. You do not know what it is that affects him so deeply. You have tried changing soaps and shampoos but nothing seems to help. It must be something natural to your human body. Humans do not smell like werewolves in general. Werewolves release pheromones that humans cannot smell, and it is important in forging interpersonal dynamics. That includes romance. Werewolves mate for life. You know they find their true mates through smell as much as the other senses. They are biologically wired to pursue their perfect match based on all those senses.

You are not a werewolf. You can never be his true mate. In the few months since he fully and rapidly developed his werewolf senses, Felix has withdrawn from you even though he promised it would never separate you.

You used to talk about what would happen if his werewolf genes activated. He comes from a family of werewolves but the gene lays dormant in certain carriers. Most werewolves develop in puberty if they develop at all. Some people never develop their wolven senses or powers. A minority, like Felix, are triggered by something in adulthood and succumb all at once.

It was always a possibility, however minute, but he promised things would stay the same. He said you were his person, that best friend did not even suffice as a word to describe your love.

You’re my world, you know, he said one night, speaking with the sort of earnest sincerity that only Felix could, his deep voice rumbling in your ear as you cuddled into him.

You wanted to say it back but you were hurting at the time. You ended a bad relationship a year earlier. It took your tender heart far too long to realize how badly your ex-boyfriend was treating you. When Felix found out the details, he was furious, though he kept it down around you. You had never seen your best friend so emotional. He became even more protective in the aftermath.

He showed you, time and time again, what real love is supposed to be. It doesn’t rush or demand, it doesn’t manipulate or coerce, and it doesn’t ask you to be small. He would hold you all night if that’s what you needed. He would make you laugh and let you cry.

You slowly realized true love had been in front of you, all this time, begging to be seen.

At least, you thought so. After such a bad relationship, you were taking it slow, and Felix never rushed you. You thought, maybe, one day…

But just when you were ready, everything changed. The werewolf gene unexpectedly activated. Felix was admitted to a wolven hospital and underwent his first transformation under a full moon. When he came home, he was different. Sure, he was still Felix, with his long dyed hair and his many freckles and his sun-kissed skin, but his brown eyes were so very different when he looked at you.

If he looked at you, which he avoids these days.

“Home sweet home,” Chan says, parking the car outside your apartment building.

Felix wastes no time getting out of the vehicle, practically spilling onto the sidewalk in his haste. He holds the door for you but averts his gaze.

You thank Chan, say good night to the other boys, then you shuffle across the seat and step out of the car. Felix still does not look at you, pretending he is distracted with something across the street.

You are a little tipsy, your emotions easily riled. You want to say good night so it will finally prompt him to look at you, but you are suddenly very choked up. Thoughtlessly, you touch his arm instead.

He flinches. It feels worse than a slap.

You do not look at him again, hurrying to the building before he can see the tears in your eyes.

Miraculously, you hold them in until you reach your apartment. You are one foot in the doorway when the tears spill, all the emotions you’ve suppressed over the last few months finally flooding free. The door falls closed with a slam and the whole world collapses under you.

You drop right there, knees pulled up to your chest and face buried in your hands.

You spent so many nights like this, crying all alone until you worked up the courage to tell Felix about your bad relationship. He was immediately understanding. It was so foolish to fear he would ever judge you. He put an arm around you and held you all night.

He is the person you want to call when you are hurting. It is agonizing to be without him. He is the one person you need and the one person you cannot call right now.

You let yourself feel sorry and miserable. When the tears have subsided and you are slouched against your door, empty and tired, you make a decision to end this. You have spent too much of your life collapsed on the floor and crying on your lonesome. You refuse to do it again.

As horrible as it is, you need to distance yourself from Felix. This slow deterioration of your relationship is excruciating. If he decides to reach out, you will be there, but you simply cannot continue to compromise yourself.

You somehow manage to wash up and get in bed. You sleep through the morning and rise late, delaying the inevitable a little longer by scrolling on your phone. Felix used to be the first text of the day but there is nothing from him. You would usually message anyway but today you put your phone aside and get out of bed.

So much of Felix is in your apartment. Borrowed hoodies, games, books, and so much more. Items are littered everywhere from the bedroom to the bathroom to the kitchen and back. It takes an hour and you are not sure you find everything because he is so inextricably woven into your living space. You do not even see it anymore because it – because he – is always there.

You fill a cardboard box. Your plan is to walk the couple blocks to the high-rise and return it with a vague explanation. You are not sure what to say. Perhaps it is best to opt for brevity. After all, this is not a break-up because you are not a couple.

No, you think, staring at the full box with watery eyes, this is worse.

You make it a few steps out your door before you drop the box. It is way, way too heavy for you to carry two feet, never mind two city blocks. Already panting with exertion, you stare at the box taking up a huge slab of the narrow corridor.

You really don’t want to ask him to come get it, nor do you want to make multiple trips. You are scared that if you give him the opportunity, he will try and reassure you that nothing is wrong and you don’t need to do this. You’ll believe him in the moment, but then it will start all over again.

Like ripping off a bandage, it has to go all at once. It’s time to heal.

You push the box, budging it down the corridor inch by slow inch. You reach the elevator and press the call button. You calculate the logistics of pushing and shoving the box for two blocks, mostly concerned the cardboard will rip if it snags on something outside.

Lost in thought, you don’t see a person in the elevator and accidentally shove the box at him. He yelps, a loud cry of surprise as he jumps aside. It makes you leap out of your skin, shooting upright to look at him.

Some of your despondency leaves at the friendly face of your neighbour.

“Changbin!” you say. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you there.”

“Hey now,” he says, winking, his handsome face plastered with a grin, “I’m not that short.”

“No, of course not,” you say, laughing along with him.

Changbin is a werewolf as well. There are a lot of packs on this side of town because the large national park is nearby. The wolves like to use the expansive forest when the full moon cycle swings around.

“Moving out?” he asks with an eyebrow quirk.

“Ah,” you say. “Not quite.”

You explain your predicament, that the box belongs to a friend and you need to somehow reach his apartment building two blocks away. Changbin, ever the charmer and ever the helper, immediately offers his aid.

“Oh, you don’t have to—” you start, but he has already swung the big box into his arms.

Werewolves do have supernatural strength. Changbin looks strong, with big biceps and a stocky frame, never mind the supernatural enhancement. He doesn’t even break a sweat. The box might as well be empty for all the difference it makes to him.

He is kind enough to walk two blocks to the high-rise. You chat on the way and find the conversation flows easily. You also can’t help but notice he has no problem with your scent. It really is just Felix who seems so repulsed.

You ring the buzzer for Felix’s apartment but there is no answer. You try a couple more times, embarrassed because Changbin is waiting. Fortunately, he is very non-plussed, humming to himself while you ring the buzzer.

After a few tries, you ring Chan instead. He answers promptly and you explain the bare bones of the situation, that you have a box for Felix and you would appreciate if he could pass it along. Chan agrees, of course.

Maybe it is for the best. You can leave the box with Chan and not even have to confront Felix at all.

Chan buzzes you into the building. Changbin walks you to the elevator where he puts the box down. You thank him profusely but he waves it off and states he was happy to help.

It looks like he wants to say something more, looking at you while he rubs the back of his neck. In the end, he says he will see you around and departs.

You exhale. The worst of your nerves have dissipated since Felix is not even home. You have been the one instigating your interactions the last few months so you figure if you just quietly step back, he won’t even notice.

It pains you to admit it, that you could disappear from his life and he would just… not care. You stuff those feelings down, down, down for now. You prepare a friendly smile for Chan so he doesn’t ask too many questions.

When you reach the pack floor, you give the box a good shove into the corridor. Chan lives directly across from the elevator so you don’t have far to go.

Except there are voices in the corridor. You turn towards the sound.

An awful chill freezes in your blood, your whole body going rigid at what you see.

Felix is home. He is standing in his open doorway, half-dressed in a pair of jeans and nothing more. His long hair looks more dishevelled than usual, like someone has been running their fingers through it.

Someone. He is talking to a young woman. You don’t know her too well, simply that she is the only female werewolf in Chan’s small pack. She is wearing more clothes than Felix but still very casual in shorts and a t-shirt, barefoot like this is her home. You suppose it is, much more her home than yours.

She belongs. You do not.

Her and Felix are standing close while they converse. So close. They speak to each other in hushed tones, her expression tender and sympathetic while Felix winces in seeming pain. The details of their conversation are inarticulate at a distance but their voices are nonetheless audible.

Your scent reaches Felix first. He straightens so fast it would be comical under any other circumstances.

Nothing is funny right now. You feel like a complete and utter fool, standing in his corridor with a box of his things like he cares about them at all. He has already moved on. You were in denial, a stupid little human girl still clinging desperately to old memories.

“I better go,” the woman says. She leans up and kisses Felix on the cheek, gives him a little wink and mumbles something only he can hear. She turns and walks into the apartment next door, giving you a genuinely friendly wave. She has always been polite to you and you have no reason to dislike her. You can only wave back pathetically.

Your hand slaps your side when she disappears into her apartment. You and Felix look at each other.

He looks guilty. Sweat dots his hairline, streaks his bare chest, and his face is flushed. It is very obvious what he has been doing all morning.

The thought of such a fantasy was once tantalizing. The sight of him, like this, would make you dizzy. You remember the last time he casually took off his shirt, the swoop of desire that moved inside you, a sensation you did not even know you could still feel after your bad relationship.

Now that swoop is just nausea. There is no pleasure in it at all.

You are completely mortified.

“Hey,” Felix says. His deep voice breaks on a high-pitched twinge. He clears his throat. “Um,” he says. He runs his fingers through his hair, mussing it even more. He can’t seem to bring himself to meet your gaze, eyes darting all over the corridor but never you.

You curl your fingers, nails pressing hard into your palm.

“Look,” he says, clearing his throat again. “We need to talk about—”

You don’t want to hear it. You can’t hear it. You are hurt and embarrassed and devastated. Why couldn’t he just tell you he wanted to pursue a werewolf? It makes sense, biologically, and you can hardly fault him for the desire. Honesty would have hurt but not like this. Now you have to suffer the rejection of the only man you ever truly loved and suffer the fact you were not even worth a conversation.

It is too late to talk.

“It’s fine, Felix,” you say. All your messy, menial scripts crumble in your mind. Emotion takes over, bitterness and pain and irritation. “I brought you your things,” you say, pointing to the box. His eyes dart there for the first time, brow furrowing. “If I find anymore, I’ll give them to Chan. He’ll pass them along.”

“Um, what?” He looks from the box to you.

“I can’t do this anymore,” you say, blinking back tears. Your feelings come out in fragments, word after word with little coherency. “After everything I went through last year – I just – this is too much. The werewolf thing – I just – I can’t. I’m sorry. I can’t have you in my life like this. Thank you for your friendship. The memories will always be important to me. But it’s for the best we don’t see each other again.”

You had not planned on so much finality, but that was before. Now you need to leave. If you stay here another second, you are going to fall apart.

“Good luck with everything,” you say.

You turn to leave but he says your name. You suck in a breath, wait a beat, and slowly turn back around.

Felix walks partway down the hallway, his whole face screwed up with pain and confusion. His mouth is moving but no words are coming out. Finally he closes his eyes and shakes his head, slamming a hand into his hair.

“Hold on,” he says. “Hold on, I – what are you talking about? You – you don’t want to be friends? How can – You can’t—” That deep voice breaks again, fracturing with emotion.

A part of you knows that you are being too harsh, letting your own emotions dominate your words. Another part of you is too heartbroken to care.

“It’s for the best,” you say weakly, your voice barely more than a breath of a sound. “Really.”

“For the best?” he asks, voice pitching up again. He has not looked at you so intensely for so long. “How can you say that to me?”

Much to your horror, he starts crying first. His tears seem to catch him by surprise too, his expression puckering as he tries to stop it. A hand flies up, covering his eyes. He shakes his head rapidly.

“Felix,” you whisper.

“For the best?” he repeats. He drops his hand and takes a shuddering breath.

You avert your gaze. You can’t stand to look at his eyes so full of tears, his face so strained with hurt.

“Did something happen?” he asks, taking a few more steps towards you. “Was it – was it me? You said – the werewolf thing – Did I do something? Please, please tell me.”

He doesn’t even realize how much he has withdrawn from you. He is bad at controlling his face, as evidenced now, so he probably has no idea how blatant his repulsion has been. Maybe he thought he was being subtle. Maybe he thought you wouldn’t care, that you were just his friend and you would be content to relegate yourself to the sidelines of his life. Maybe that is all your fault after all.

If you were a better friend, you would have coped with his new feelings. You would have been happy for him. If you were a better friend, maybe he would have told you sooner.

“You deserve a better friend than me,” you say.

He looks at you like you are completely crazy, his head tilted, his eyes narrowing.

“What?” he asks. “Where is this coming from? Please, I don’t understand. You can’t be saying what I think you’re saying.”

“I already told you,” you say, as calmly as you can. “I just can’t do this anymore. Our lives are heading in different directions and I – I – I just need to go. I want to go. Please.”

You have known Felix all your life. You were children together, hapless youths on a playground that immediately loved each other with the easy, thoughtless affection of childhood.

He reminds you of that child now, innocently standing in the corridor with his arms hanging limp at his sides and so much bewilderment on his freckled face.

“You want to go?” he repeats, voice low, soft.

You nod. After a second, he nods back, bottom lip still quivering. A fresh stream of tears spill over his eyes. He hiccups on a sob, turning away and covering his face.

“Fine,” he says, speaking between shaky breaths. “Go. I can’t – I can’t keep you here if you want to go.”

“Thank you,” you say softly. The elevator is still waiting when you press the call button. You step onto it and say, “Good bye, Felix.”

As the doors close, you hear another choking sob. You name is lost in the sound.

The door closes.

The regret is instantaneous. You stare at your phone for hours and even debate returning to his apartment, but in the end you do nothing.

You replay every moment, from seeing him with the other werewolf to his confusion and your departure. It was a long, long walk home, tears streaming down your face as your mind went back even further, remembering every moment of your friendship.

How could this have happened? You and Felix have always been open with each other. He was the first person you confided in about your bad relationship and he immediately did everything to save you from it. But when it was the other way around, when the werewolf gene activated, he turned away from your friendship. You poured your heart out to him, trusting he would catch it and keep it safe, but he did not feel the same way.

Secrets, confusion, heartbreak. It plays on a loop in your mind.

It is the middle of the night when you get a text. He has not messaged in a while, not in a substantial way. If you scroll back on your phone, you can see the disintegration of communication, the days when he would send message after message with any and every thought slowly petering down to brief replies and a vague acknowledgement at the very best.

This message is more. You can hear his voice when you read it, can picture those dark eyes.

Tell me this isn’t real. Please.

You feel sick. You are angry at him for being the one to withdraw only to suddenly turn on his heel. You are angry at yourself for reacting so drastically and immaturely. Mostly, you are just sad.

If I did something, I’m sorry, he writes. I’ll never stop being sorry. I’ll fix it. I’ll keep my distance. Just don’t say I can never see you again.

You type a reply, then delete it, then repeat.

You say nothing. Every time you try, you see him and her in that corridor, you see him flinching from your touch, you see him recoiling at your scent. It twists and tangles with memories of warm nights and tender smiles. You wipe your tears and remember when he did it for you, his thumb so gently sweeping your cheek. He used to touch you like you were precious to him. Now he flinches from your touch.

He does not text the next day, or the day after, or the day after that. You are not sure if it is better or worse.

After about a week, he messages again, stating, I miss you.

You are at your work desk but he immediately seizes your full attention, as he always has.

You stare at your phone. You take a breath. You have had a few days to decompress, to let the wound bleed. It is still sore to the touch.

You write, I miss you too.

You do not check your phone for a while, listening to the relentless buzz as he sends eager message after eager message. It feels like the old days for a minute, but slows to a stop when you do not reply. You read them back later, his pleading, his sweetness. It makes you spiral, on the one hand wanting to take it all back, but on the other hand picturing his flinch, his disgust, knowing it is only a matter of time before your heart breaks again.

You do not reply. He takes the hint and gives you a few more days, then he messages, I still have your stuff in my place too, you know?

I know, is all you say. I have more of your stuff too.

As predicted, you have been finding his things all over the apartment. Even things which are technically yours are still stamped with his memory. He helped you move into this place after the break-up. He took you shopping and paid for so many things to get you back on your feet. Everything from blankets to cushions to plates make you think of him. This was just a room before he made it a home. Without him, it is just a room again.

There are a couple days of silence, then some of his packmates start messaging you. You don’t think he is sending them after you, as Felix would never manipulate or coerce you like that. They reach out of their own volition, curious because they have not seen you in a while. But it is all so overwhelming, so you throw your phone under a pillow and go for a walk.

That is when you run into Changbin again. His smile is charming as ever when he strikes up a friendly conversation.

“I was wondering,” he says, scratching the back of his neck, not-so-inadvertently flexing his big bicep when he does, “I was going to ask a couple weeks ago, when I helped you with that box – ah, I was kicking myself after because I didn’t see you for a while. But – I thought we had a nice conversation. Maybe you and me could do something.”

“Do something,” you repeat. It sounds like he is asking you out which is a little perplexing, because he is a werewolf and you are a human. Surely nothing serious can come of it. You used to think it was possible, as there are plenty of movies and romance novels to prove it, but your personal experience has led you to other conclusions.

“A date,” he clarifies, grinning that handsome smile. “You and me. My treat. No pressure. I just think you’re clever and, ah, very beautiful, and I want to know you better.”

A polite rejection is on the tip of your tongue. You are not in any emotional state to try dating someone right now. But you think of Felix and that woman in the corridor, and you think of your phone buzzing, and you think of another long, lonely night stewing in it all.

Changbin must be looking for something casual anyway. A werewolf would not truly settle down with a human. Maybe this is a good opportunity to put yourself out there.

“Sure,” you say. “I’d like that.”

Changbin takes you out a few days later. You actually do enjoy yourself. He is very charming and it is easy to talk to him, plus the date itself is very fun. He takes you out for food then to an arcade, flopping at every game in a hilarious spectacle.

“I’m a werewolf,” he complains later. “I’m strong! Those games were rigged.”

You giggle, wrapping yourself up in the jacket he leant you. You are walking back to the apartment building, the warm evening giving way to a cool night as you make the trek. It is enjoyable until you reach the building, at which point you start to panic. Does he expect to be invited into your apartment? Does he expect… more? The thought leaves you dizzy and not in a good way. Changbin is so very handsome and so very likable. Going out with him showed you that you can enjoy yourself without the crutch of a lifelong friendship.

You don’t need Felix.

But you still want him.

You try to go back and find the moment it all went wrong, try to picture a different ending, but it feels impossible. A foolish fantasy from a girl still clinging to the dying dredges of hope and affection. There is a wonderful, handsome man at your side, a werewolf at that, and your mind is somewhere else.

Changbin remarks on it, politely but nonetheless curiously. He gives you a penetrating look, like he knows something is wrong and there is no use lying.

You sigh.

“I’m sorry,” you say. “I just… I recently broke-up with a friend.”

“With a friend?” he asks, eyebrows jumping with surprise. “What kind of friend?”

“A close one, very close,” you say. “We’ve known each other forever, you see. He’s the most wonderful person I have ever known. He’s good to everyone, open-hearted, kind, warm. I have truly never known a better man. He just makes every room a little brighter when he’s in it. You would like him, I think. Everyone does. He’s a werewolf but the transformation only happened for the first time this year. Since then…” You sniffle. “Things have been different. Werewolves are biologically wired to be with other werewolves and form packs… I think my human status just started affecting him negatively.”

“Biology,” Changbin says like it is a foreign word. He looks at you with a cocked eyebrow. “It exists, yeah, but werewolves still have hearts, you know? It’s nice finding other werewolves so you aren’t alone, but it isn’t necessary. Love is complicated.”

That does give you pause for a moment. A logical part of you knows it is true, that plenty of werewolves make relationships work with humans, but that is almost harder to accept. If it’s just biological, then it cannot be helped. But if it’s a choice—

“So he isn’t biologically wired to hate me now that he’s a werewolf,” you say miserably. “It’s just something he chose to do.”

“Now, I didn’t say that,” Changbin says. “But, if that is what happened, he’s an idiot. If you were that obviously in love with me, ah, I wouldn’t let you go that easy.”

“I’m not in love with him…” The lie tumbles without an ounce of confidence. Changbin just gives you an amused look. Embarrassed, you drop your gaze. “It doesn’t matter,” you say. “He doesn’t feel the same way. Believe me, I know how he’s been looking at me, or how he won’t. That’s why I walked away. I was holding onto a friendship that once was and a fantasy that will never be. It’s time to be reasonable.”

“Ah, I don’t think love is very reasonable,” he says. “But you should stay true to yourself and do what’s right. And, in the mean time, if you need a friend…”

You exchange smiles. A weight lifts off your shoulder as Changbin changes the subject to friendship between you.

“I would like a friend,” you say. “Thank you, Changbin.”

“Ah, it’s been fun. But give me back my jacket,” he teases. “Since we’re friends I don’t need to impress you. I’m cold.”

“I thought werewolves run hot,” you say, laughing. You shrug off the coat and hand it to him.

“Eh, a little bit, maybe more than humans. But the blood really only gets hot during a rut cycle,” he says.

It is a casual statement. He is too preoccupied with zipping up his jacket to notice you get a little flustered.

You know a bit about ruts, namely that werewolves have a cycle which span a few days every month. It’s a fertility and reproduction thing, pushing developed werewolves to find mates and, well, mate them. It is a common part of the werewolf lifestyle so it is fair for Changbin to so casually mention it.

It is not because of Changbin that you feel flustered. You are thinking about Felix that night at the club, how burning hot he was compared to everyone else. Now that you think of it, not even Chan felt so hot when he grabbed your wrist, nor Seungmin beside you in the car. Felix, though, was radiating heat. Was he starting a rut cycle? Perhaps that explains why he was so hot and sweaty the next day during your confrontation.

You remember the other werewolf in the corridor. Your heart sinks again. Was she helping him through his rut? Then again, she left the second you arrived. Why were they even in the hallway? If she was spending his rut with him, surely they would have been inside together, not yapping in the hallway...

“You look worried,” Changbin says.

You are gnawing your bottom lip, eyes darting around as you contemplate that day. At his words, you blink to attention, doing your best to shake the anxiety.

“It’s nothing,” you say. “I’m just confused about so many things right now.”

“You know, if this guy really is so great and wonderful – and I think he is, if someone like you loves him so much – then he will probably be happy to answer your questions so you don’t feel so confused.”

“Ugh.” You slap a hand over your eyes and shake your head. “Why do you have to be so decent and mentally competent and right?”

“Jutdae,” he says, then flexes an arm and squeezes a bicep through the jacket. “And lots of protein.”

You laugh again. With a few more words of thanks and a promise to catch up again soon, you give him one final good night hug. He says he might meet up with some friends so you part ways, Changbin strolling while you head inside.

You look at your phone, considering his words as you ride the elevator to your floor. Changbin is right. Giving Felix the silent treatment is not helping you or him. Even though the conversation will probably be uncomfortable in so many ways, you should talk to him. It might not repair anything, but at least you will have closure. That wound cannot heal so long as it is still bleeding and festering.

You are drafting a text message in your head when you step off the elevator.

Then you lift your eyes and stumble to a stop.

Felix is sitting outside your apartment door. He is wearing jeans and a blue flannel, a denim jacket on top of that. A habitual joke is on the tip of your tongue, seeing him so decked out in his favourite colour. It disappears at the morose look on his face.

His long blonde hair is down around his shoulders, neglected black roots peeking at the crown of his head. He looks a little wan and very tired, his head lolled to the side.

He scents you before he sees you, eyes fluttering closed for a second, then he looks at you.

He really looks at you.

Felix always has such a softness in his gaze, but this look is searing. It moves through you, a forceful heat twining its way around your insides. It holds you in captivated thrall as he stands, one black boot thumping against the ground with the force of his push as he straightens himself out.

That piercing looks crinkles as more of your scent registers to him. His face twists with revulsion, except it is even more severe than usual. It is so disturbed that it makes you think his past expressions were not disgust at all, because this face is so terrorized by whatever he smells.

“Where were you?” he asks.

You have been staring at each other in silence for so long that his voice reverberates loudly in the corridor. It makes you jump as the smoothness of his deep voice pours into you. It’s only been a few weeks since you last heard him speak, but somehow you forgot how profoundly that voice could affect you, especially when he drops it so deliberately.

“Out,” you say. You are so flustered that your body goes into defense mode, your tone sharp when you say, “I don’t need your permission for that.”

That softens the slash of his gaze. He shakes his head.

“No,” he says softly. “Of course not. I’m sorry.”

His apology is so sincere, eyes searching yours for something beyond the surface. You feel like he is speaking to you without words, somehow conveying a lifetime of love in the way he looks at you, saying, it’s me.

You soften too, in every way, your voice and your posture, your heart and everything inside you. So soft and malleable, all that heat expanding in every direction until you can imagine yourself radiating it like he did. It feels so inappropriate to be aroused when there is so much drama between you, when a serious conversation needs to be had. But he is looking at you so intensely, colours of emotions playing across his face. A shaking breath draws your gaze to his lips.

He says your name. It feels like a touch. You feel dizzy again, this time in a very good way, despite yourself.

You hear his sharp intake of breath as you step a little closer. Your scent is affecting him. It makes him do a double-take, looking at you up and down without any subtlety. It is blatant, searching. For lack of a better word, predatory, a wolf on the prowl, scenting something it wants, maybe needs. Your skirt is long, sweeping past your knees, but you feel like he can see past it somehow.

His eyes, low on your body, flick up to your face. Your knees knock. That hungry look twists into something repulsed again, his brow furrowing. It darkens his whole face.

Of course. He is disgusted with you and your boring human scent and he always has been. You cannot give into hopeful delusions.

“What are you doing here?” you ask in your most casual tone, striding up to him like you are unaffected by his presence.

He steps to the side, staring while you fumble around in your purse for your keys.

“I wanted to talk,” he says.

You stare into your bag, rifling through mint wrappers and lipsticks and bus tickets. You can feel his eyes, practically burning a hole in the side of your head. You want to be chill, want to laugh and tell him he’s acting weird, to knock it off. You want to be indifferent, remind him there is a distance between you now and his staring is not appropriate.

Then he puts a hand on the door, near your head. He moves around you, undeniably scenting you as he goes. His other hand comes around the other side, caging you between him and the door. Your back is to him but you can still feel his gaze, shivering when he breathes you in.

You swallow, cringing at the wave of arousal that moves through you when his nose brushes the back of your neck.

Werewolf instincts, you remind yourself, trying to find the resolve to snap him out of it, except that’s not what you want. You want him to press right against you and put his mouth on your neck, to taste everything he is scenting.

Until you remember he hates the scent. So much so, he makes a guttural noise that sounds like a growl, rumbling at the base of his throat.

You expect him to flinch and move away. You imagine him shaking his head as he abandons his efforts to reconcile because you’re just not worth it.

You are not expecting him to say, “Why do you smell like another werewolf?”

“What?” you say. “I – I don’t—”

“Yes, you do,” he says, taking another deep breath. “It’s all over you. Who is he?”

Oh, you have been wearing Changbin’s jacket for the last half-hour. You did not notice any smell but you are not a werewolf. To Felix, you must be utterly smothered in it. You wonder if it smells like a sex pheromone, given Changbin was taking you on a date, maybe permeating a desire your human senses did not notice.

Whatever it is, it has Felix riled in a way you have never seen before. He has been very careful to hold himself in check around you. The worst of his werewolf symptoms have been hidden from the start. It is part of why you are so hurt, that he would not trust you with it.

Now it overrides his good sense. His nose swipes the back of your neck again, his fingers curling against the door where his hands sit.

“He’s just a friend,” you say.

“A friend,” he repeats. “He doesn’t smell like a friend.”

“Well, he is,” you say. All your desire, heartbreak, and desperation swell inside you, bursting like a firework, hot and crackling. With a pounding heart, you turn around to face him, intent on confrontation when you snap, “Why would that even matter to you?”

You look into his eyes. He is so close, arms around you, that woodsy scent enveloping you. It feels like coming home, falling into his gaze, letting the heat wash over you as he stares back. There is something animalistic about his intensity, a predator with its hackles raised, sights set and hunger striking.

“Felix,” you whisper, voice heavy with a thousand questions that never manifest.

One hand leaves the door. He grabs the back of your neck, not roughly, not cruelly, but with an undoubted and irrevocable command. It makes another firework burst inside you. You gasp.

That gasp is interrupted when he dives in without any hesitation, his mouth thoroughly claiming yours in a hot, desperate kiss.

Whenever you dared to fantasize a kiss with Felix, it was always soft, a little brief, giving it time to grow. You never imagined so much heat overwhelming you all at once, that his mouth would be so ravishing. You didn’t even know a kiss could move through your whole body, that when he puts his tongue in your mouth it would feel like he is already fucking you, your body throbbing with want.

It is not just werewolf instinct because you react too. You drop your purse on the floor and put your hands on him, one on his chest and the other his neck, clinging to him like he clings to you. He takes it as invitation, his other hand leaving the door to hold your waist. His grip is powerful, but despite the supernatural strength it does not hurt. No, Felix would never hurt you. Oh, it was so stupid to think he ever would.

He makes a sound that has you whimpering in turn, the low grunt pressing at your most vulnerable places. The kiss is open-mouthed, hot and wet and messy.

He walks you back that final step, pressing you to the door. He cups the back of your head so you don’t hit it.

You grab the collar of his denim jacket and yank on it, pulling him even closer. You are completely delirious with him. Everything that has happened and everything that will happen is wholly unimportant as he slots his whole body along yours.

His leg pushes between your thighs, his hips pinning you to the door. The thought would have you terrified a year ago, but now it just feels right. Of course it feels right, because this is Felix, who has seen you at your most vulnerable and healed you, who has caught you every time you fall. He will always fix what hurts. He will always take care of you.

Your body knows it, begging for him, hips rearing towards him. It presses his thigh against the juncture between your legs, makes it so your flimsy skirt doesn’t matter at all. You are not thinking when you start to rock against him.

You forgot your body could feel so much pleasure.

“Oh, fuck—” he says, his already deep voice somehow even lower as he curses.

You squeak as he holds you against the door, deliberately rocking his thigh between yours with more pressure and speed than you could manage. It makes a torrent of mortifying sounds spill past your lips, but he gathers them all up lovingly, tastes them on his tongue as he chases down your gasping breath. Every little mewl, every breath, every squeaking hiccup is swallowed up by him.

“Come for me, please,” he whispers, roughly. It sounds like begging despite how much physical power he has over you. It would scare if it was someone else, but that supernatural strength doesn’t matter because it bends to you, waiting for your permission.

You just barely remember you are in the corridor. You hope no one chooses now to step out of their apartment. You wonder if the other werewolves on the floor can scent whatever pheromones Felix must be giving off.

It doesn’t matter. You’re hurtling towards an orgasm and you can’t stop it. You’re going to come on him, just like this, fully clothed but so wet that you can feel it gushing as he grinds his thigh against you.

You grab onto his belt, feeling the curve of his bulge just below your palm. It makes his breath stutter and it makes you surrender. Your body seizes and your pussy throbs as you come, a strangled cry in your throat while rocking desperately against him.

It settles slowly, the world coming back in increments. You are breathing hard, clinging to each other, bodies still pressed so tightly together. You can feel his heart beating hard and fast. It keeps rhythm with the lingering thrum below.

So much for conversation. Grinding all over Felix in a semi-public space was not in the plan at all.

“Oh my god,” you say, voice breaking as you are hit with realization. You push at him and he goes obediently.

“Fuck,” he says, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head. He runs his hands through his hair, shakes out the length of it while breathing erratically.

Your heart is still pounding. You put your hand over your chest like that will calm it down.

Felix looks at you.

You recognize this look.

This look – this is the face you have been mistaking for disgust. Now that you have seen him truly reviled, snarling at Changbin’s scent on your body, you realize it is not disgust, not at all. It’s pain, a wincing, cringing desperation as he fights to keep everything inside him.

It is barely contained right now, his chest still heaving, his fly still bulging, hands shaking at his sides as he stares at you with open need.

“Oh my god,” you say again. You lean against the door for support, closing your eyes to try and make sense of the world. You see the events of the last month play out, the months before that, going back further and further until you shake your head to clear your mind. “I just—” You open your eyes, meet his anxious gaze. “Just give me some time,” you say. “I – I need to think – I’m so—”

“It’s okay,” he says, hands out to placate you, but careful not to touch you. He forces himself to smile despite his own emotional tumult. Sweat breaks out on his hairline. “Take your time, I – I’m sorry, I didn’t come here to—I just wanted to talk—I—”

“I know,” you say. “I know.”

He nods sharply, clearing his throat as he turns awkwardly to the side. He points vaguely behind him, stutters something like, “I’ll go, um, I’ll just—”

He turns on his heel and walks away, taking the corner to the stairwell so fast that you blink and he is gone.

You can hear him bounding down the stairs. You stand there, listening until he is too far to hear.

With every limb shaking, you pick up your purse and finally fish out your keys. You manage to turn the key in the lock and step inside before you crumple to your knees.

This time your thoughts are a very different whirlwind, just as confused and just as emotional, but so conquered by sensation that you find yourself just sitting there, touching your lips, thinking of him.

There is a lot to think about.

You realize you have been wrong about so many things. You and Felix should have spoken a long time ago. You have both been skirting each other, tentatively regarding the other, worried you might hurt them. It resulted in you both getting hurt anyway.

You are so, so scared of making that hurt worse. It makes you hesitate.

A day goes by. Felix respects your space. On the second day, when you contemplate reaching out for a conversation – a real conversation – your phone buzzes.

You are surprised to see that it is Bang Chan.

Hey, he writes. I need to talk to you right now. It’s about Felix.

Your heart-rate shoots through the roof, terror obliterating every other emotion.

Is he okay? you write. What happened??

Look, I’m just gonna say it, Chan writes. Felix is in rut. You know what that is?

Yes, you say.

At first, you are relieved he is not hurt and it is something so mundane. Then you are flustered as you recall the other night. You remember the heat between you, the way you came on his body and the way he begged for it. Even now, you are more aroused than embarrassed, shivering as you remember the way he looked at you.

Right, Chan says. Look I promise I’m not asking you to sleep with him or something. I wouldn’t do that. You have no responsibility for anything. But you also gotta know that dumb kid is in love with you, right? Like… insane in love. Like… won’t let anyone else see him or help him even though he’s a new werewolf, hasn’t had that many ruts, and it hasn’t even been a whole month since the last one.

You watch as each text appears, your adrenaline building with every word. The phone shakes in your tight grip.

Didn’t someone help him with his last rut? You ask. I saw her at his apartment.

What??? Chan answers quickly. No. I sent her over to see if he needed anything, because he kept telling me to fuck off because I was telling him to call you. I’m telling him again but he still won’t listen. You know he thinks he’s a monster right?

You are still reeling from the revelation that he and the girl were not an item at all, that they were truly just having a conversation. He was flushed and sweaty because he was in rut, not because he spent all morning with her. You were the one racing to conclusions, not even giving him a chance to explain. You remember him stepping towards you, asking to speak, but you cut him off before he could. You assumed he just wanted to reject you.

Chan says Felix is in love you. Is it possible that after a conversation with another wolf, he was gathering the courage to tell you, only for you to say you never wanted to see him again?

Now you read the last message and your heart sinks, a painfully heavy weight in your gut.

A monster? you write. What do you mean?

That doesn’t even make sense. Felix is the kindest, most loving man you know. Assuming werewolves are monstrous is such a medieval thought that it never occurred to you for a second that he would feel that way.

Yeah, Chan says. Look, he never told me the details because he said it wasn’t his story to tell, but he told me that you went through something really hard and that was why he didn’t want to stress you out with the werewolf thing. It can be pretty intense, especially at the start, and especially when you’re already an adult. He spent his whole life thinking he was one thing only for everything to change really quickly. He was really scared of coming on too strong and losing you because of it.

You made his worst fears come true, you realize, numb as you stare at the screen.

You know Felix, Chan writes, He’d rather just suffer alone than have someone else feel it too. I told him to trust you more, that you would want to help, but there’s no getting through to him when he’s like that. I love the guy but he can be kinda stubborn.

You both have a stubborn streak. The last month of drama attests to that.

What do you want me to do? you ask. You have more answers but you feel just as lost as before, maybe even more.

Can you just talk to him please? Chan says. He holed himself up in his apartment and he won’t let anyone in. He stopped answering my messages too. Ruts are a Molotov cocktail of hormones. They’re intense even if you’re experienced and he isn’t. I just don’t want him to get hurt and not do anything about it because he doesn’t want to bother anyone.

You remember Felix in that corridor, arms hanging limp at his sides, looking at you with so much hurt and sorrow. Despite that, he didn’t pressure you to stay. He listened. He let you go because he thought you wanted that. He stood by himself in that corridor, crying over a box of his things that he thought had a home with you.

Tears blur your vision. You have to rub your eyes before answering Chan.

I’ll go to him, you write. I don’t want him hurt either.

I know you don’t, Chan says. You have a spare key to his place?

Yes.

Good, Chan says. He’s not answering his door so you’re gonna need it. Give the guy a smack for me, hey?

His joke makes you laugh, though it is strained. You give yourself a second to compose yourself then you are on your feet. You are in a loose house dress and tights, face bare and hair undone, but you do not waste another second. You know you can be yourself around Felix no matter what. You wish he understood the feeling was reciprocated.

This time, instead of running away, you run to him. This time, you will make him understand.

The two city blocks pass in a blur. You have never moved so fast in all your life, bumping into slow stragglers as you barrel down the street.

By the time you step off the elevator on his floor, you are warm and out of breath. You wipe a little perspiration off your forehead as you approach.

You were so frantic in your determination to arrive, there was no time for nerves to materialize. They strike all at once, twisting anxiously as you knock. You wait a minute but he doesn’t answer, just like Chan predicted.

You take a steadying breath and put the key in the lock. Hand over your heart, you push open the door and step into the apartment.

It does not look any different from the last time you were here. Even your slippers are still by the door. You disregard them now, stepping out of your shoes and venturing forward with a nervous little patter.

If you were a werewolf, maybe you would have scented a change in the air, but it smells and feels familiar. The apartment is very still, maybe a little warmer than usual, sunlight streaming through the windows.

You finally hear a sound. You leave the small foyer and make a very clumsy entrance into the room.

You can hardly blame yourself for stumbling. Felix is sitting on the couch in nothing but a pair of jeans. It looks like the same blue jeans from the other night. Yes, in fact, you are sure they are because you can see the faintest streak on his thigh. You were embarrassed to find you were so wet that it came through your panties and skirt. You wondered if it got on him.

You certainly have an answer now.

Felix is touching himself. He is slouched back on the couch, his bare chest damp with sweat, his knees spread apart. His jeans are pulled open and it looks roughly torn, the zipper snapped off the fly. His hand is wrapped around his cock. One of your t-shirts is clutched tightly in the other hand. He is holding it against his face, covering his eyes, mouth, and nose. He is clearly chasing the scent, knuckles whitening with how tightly he grips it.

His abdomen clenches as he approaches a climax. You watch as he quickly wraps the t-shirt around his cock, fucking the material. His eyes are closed, head thrown back.

You snap to the realization that he has no idea you’re here, so overwhelmed with your scent from the shirt.

You quickly cover your eyes with both hands and yelp his name.

His reply is a startled yelp as well. You peek at him through your fingers, watching as he frantically stuffs the t-shirt between the couch cushions. He tries to stand at the same time, fighting to close his pants over an uncooperative erection that does not seem to be going down.

“Fuck, sorry, I – hold on, fuck – I can explain—” he stammers.

“Um, me too,” you say.

He can’t get his pants closed but he gets himself tucked back inside. He keeps a grip on the fly with one hand, the other running through his long hair.

Then he is standing there, flushed and out of breath. You slowly lower your fingers from your face.

There is a moment of silence, both of you startled. After a bit of staring, he cracks a nervous smile. You tentatively return it.

His brow smooths out, his dimple poking into his cheek. He chuckles first, then you laugh, then you are laughing together. It feels good, letting out all the ridiculous tension.

“Why, uhh, why are you here?” he finally asks.

“Um, Chan texted,” you say.

“Oh, for the love of—” He cuts off his own tirade, shaking his head and exhaling heavily.

You twist your hands together, fingers budging in a nervous fidget.

“Um, he told me… he told me…” You forget your precise words because Felix meets your eyes, holding your gaze in his. You lose yourself in the depth of his dark eyes. You think your heart is beating loud enough to hear.

You look away, overwhelmed by the intensity of his stare. Your eyes stray to the couch, to your t-shirt poking out between the cushions. You are startled by a jolt between your legs, like a lightning bolt of arousal, the previous scene suddenly resonating with clarity.

“I—” You almost choke on your words, so much nervousness, so much fear, so much need in your voice. You meet his searching eyes, stepping forward as if compelled by them. “I thought my scent disgusted you.”

He blinks back at you, your words taking a moment to settle. Then he furrows his brow and tilts his head. A bit of hair falls forward and he tucks it back.

“Uhhhh, what?” he asks. “Dis—disgusted me? You thought—” He looks back at the couch too. He is very flushed, his rut no doubt keeping him suspended on a perpetual edge, and his ears darken with a richer tinge of red. “Um. No.” He laughs at the ridiculousness, looking at you with wide, blinking eyes. “I, uh, I definitely don’t – I think you – I mean—”

“Um, yes,” you say, clasping your hands together again. You rock a little on the balls of your feet. “Yes. I can see that, um, I think you’re not disgusted.”

“No,” it comes out on a breath. His eyes drop from your face down your body. You look so simple, but he looks at you like no one has ever been more beautiful. “No, I’m not disgusted. Why did you think that?”

“You, um, you make faces sometimes,” you say. It sounds so petty and silly to say out loud, but it’s time to get it all out there. “And you’ve been so distant, Felix. I thought that maybe, now that you’re a werewolf, you didn’t want anything more to do with me.”

His face scrunches up with bewilderment.

“Nothing – nothing to do with you?” he asks, voice breaking where it pitches up. It would usually make you laugh, but now is not the time as you stare back, all your insecurities and vulnerabilities on display. He does not laugh at them either, taking a small step towards you with a tender look on his face. “I could never feel that way,” he says. “You’re my whole world. I – I’ve told you that. You’re my – you’re my person.”

“Chan said you felt like a monster,” you say softly. “I wish you would have told me how you felt. I could have told you that you aren’t a monster, not at all. You’re my person too, you know.”

He exhales, shoulders deflating. He rubs the bridge of his nose, thinking of something to say. Eventually he shakes his head and drops his hand.

“I didn’t want to be a burden,” he says. “You’ve been through so much. I couldn’t – I couldn’t ask you to take care of me too.”

“Felix,” you say, throat cloying with emotion. You take a step closer as well. “Felix, you’re not a burden. I wanted so badly to take care of you. I – I love you.”

The word love resonates like thunder. It pierces the air, leaves a ringing aftermath.

“You – you love me,” Felix says, like the words are incomprehensible. “As a – as a friend – or?” He tries to look disinterested but completely fails, staring at you with all that intensity again.

You combat the instinct to make yourself small, to hide your vulnerabilities, to retreat into denial and just smile prettily. You hold his gaze. When you smile, it is honest and affectionate.

“I love you, Felix,” you say. “As more than a friend. As everything.”

“Oh,” he says. His hand goes back into his hair, untucking it from behind his ear just to tuck it back again. His eyes dart everywhere like he is replaying the scene and scanning it for answers. He blinks at you. “Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say, with a small laugh.

“But you – you never wanted to see me again,” he says, then lifts his brows, expression all at once understanding. “Because you thought I didn’t want you. Oh my god. I’m such an idiot.”

“I’m not the brightest either,” you tease.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, closing the distance yet again with another step. He forgets the state of his clothes and lets go of his pants, too wrapped up in his words to notice the startled drop of your eyes. Not much is exposed, just the shape of his hips and a stubborn bulge, but it still leaves you sweating.

“Look,” he says. “I – I can’t just say I love you.” Before your heart can sink, he continues frantically, “Because it’s not enough. I do, I do love you. The werewolf gene activated for you. The doctors asked if I had been in any dangerous situations that might have triggered it and I said no. They – they said it sometimes activates in peril, when you feel the need to protect yourself. That’s what happened to me. Except it wasn’t because I wanted to protect myself. I wanted to protect you.”

“Me?” you say in a small voice, like you can hardly believe it.

“Yes,” he says, smiling, both hands moving as he talks. “I felt so helpless, watching the way you were hurting. I wanted to protect you. I never wanted to see you suffering again. I tried to be calm around you but pushing it down just made the feeling more desperate. My wolf, it’s like my heart. It’s just an animal, you know? And it only understands loyalty and love. And the first time I changed, I didn’t think like a person, no, but I thought of you all the same. They could barely keep me contained in that hospital. I just wanted to run to you. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to keep you safe. Staying away from you… it’s been killing me.”

“Me too,” you say, so filled to brim with emotion you think you might burst. “Oh, Felix, me too.”

A laugh spills out of him, more of a release than humour. You take another step towards each other, this time close enough to clasp hands between you.

“I wish you would have told me,” you say. “But it’s my fault too. I know I’m still recovering in some ways. I’m quick to think little of myself. But I shouldn’t put you in the role of the mean voices in my head. I’m sorry too. So, so sorry.”

“How could you think I’d ever be disgusted with you?” he asks in a low voice.

When he cups your cheek, a shiver moves down your spine. You straighten, leaning into his touch, looking at him with wanting eyes. He swallows hard, staring back.

“It was silly,” you say. “I even thought you were seeing someone else. That werewolf lady in your pack. I thought maybe you wanted a werewolf mate and I wouldn’t be enough.”

“That’s crazy,” he says. “You’re my everything.”

“And you’re mine,” you say.

You touch his arm, just the lightest caress of your fingertips. His skin is so hot it makes you gasp. Your cool fingers must be a balm because his eyes close and a little sigh parts his lips.

“Uh,” he breathes, eyes still closed. “Sorry for what you, uh, saw, coming in— I promise I don’t usually – ruts are just—”

You step a little closer. You can feel his breath on your cheek when he breathes in and out.

His hands drop to his sides as you lean in and kiss his neck. It is just a chaste touch but it makes his eyes fly open. He looks at you and you swear his eyes have never been so dark.

“You want me,” he says. When you nod, he releases another deep breath, a massive exhale of relief. “Ruts are… intense,” he says.

“Mm,” is your gentle reply. Your eyes run down his bare skin, fingers itching to touch. You meet his gaze. “But it’s you, right?”

Some romances depict ruts as an out of control haze. Though Felix is certainly more intense, it is your best friend’s familiar eyes locked on yours. You realize it actually makes him the vulnerable one, all his desires so blatant, his needs on the surface, unable to hide them for a second. You understand why he held back, especially while you were in recovery. There is so much of him.

But that is what you love. You can never have enough.

“Yes,” he says.

His deep voice is so rough that it makes you whimper. His hand jumps at the sound, settles on the back of your neck like it did yesterday. Anticipation tingles from the crown of your head to the tips of your toes, every inch of your body aware of him, desperate for him.

“Yes,” he says again, staring at your mouth. “Yes, it’s me.”

Your breath catches when he squeezes your nape. In the back of your mind, you recall all those little courtship rituals of werewolves, the instincts that manifest between them and their mate. A gentle squeeze of the nape is a request for your submission, for you to put your trust in his strength and his affection.

You do, utterly. You rest your hands on his waist, your cool palms against his hot skin, making his eyes flash with hunger.

“What are you waiting for?” you ask, his mouth so close, kissing a tantalizing promise.

He smiles that real smile, eyes crinkling sweetly, sunshine radiating with all that heat.

“I told you, ruts can be intense,” he says. “I’m waiting for your permission to let me have my way with you.”

“You have it,” you say. Your eyes drop to his chest and you run your hand from his collarbone all the way down to his abdomen, watching the muscles tense under the caress of your fingers.

You smile at him, swiping at his hot skin with your fingertips as you step back. He lets you go, hands dropping to his sides. He moves when you do, like his whole body is tethered to yours, magnetized to your core. Each step you take, he follows with a fixated prowl.

“Do whatever you want with me,” you say, peeling down a strap of your dress. “I’m yours.”

His steps gain speed, his smile brightening. In a matter of seconds, he is chasing you into his bedroom, laughing behind your trail of giggles as you scamper ahead of him.

He catches you around the waist inside the bedroom, pulling your backside into his front. The straps of your dress are both lowered and you hold it to your chest with your hand, heart pounding from excitement and the little chase.

You make a sweet sound when his nose swipes your neck. You tip your head, offering more skin. It is a good thing his grip is so strong, because you tremble when he exhales, breath caressing your skin. He gathers your dress in his hands, plucking the fabric out of your grip. He pushes it down your body and it puddles on the floor.

“Felix,” you say on a sigh when he kisses the back of your neck while working his fingers under your bra. You help remove it, dropping it onto the floor. You rock back against him when he touches you. He uses both hands to cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Can’t believe you thought I was disgusted,” he says. “Like I didn’t spend my whole last rut in here thinking about you.”

“Y-you did?” you ask, with a little whimper, because his open jeans are not doing much to shield him and you can feel how hard he is against you.

“Yes,” he says, a hand coming up to circle your throat, gripping it possessively as he puts his teeth in your neck. It makes you jump in his arms, body shaking.

He holds you tight against him, the denim of his pants rough through the thin fabric of your tights.

“I’m sorry for all that,” you rasp. “I must have made it so hard for you.”

“Mm,” he says, grinning against your neck. “You made it very hard.”

“Pfft.” You slap a hand over your mouth when laughing. “That was a terrible joke.”

“Mm. True though.”

You squeak when he nudges you forward, so close to the bed that you stumble right onto it. He climbs up behind you, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back.

“At first, I was just sad,” he says.

He leans back to grab something off his bedside table. You admire the length of his body as he does, the low-slung jeans, the sheen of sweat across his chest, and his subtle, slender musculature.

You meet his gaze when he comes back. He is kneeling over you, a cocky grin on his face. He gathers his hair and ties it with the band he just grabbed.

“Then I really thought about it,” he says. “Mm, yeah, thought about hunting you down.” He straddles your thigh, his hands planting on either side of your head. “I’d find you and I’d remind where you belong.” He leans down, kissing along your jaw. “With me. Under me. Moaning my name. Forgetting about everything else.”

“Did you—” You start but gasp, his mouth on your throat, biting, sucking, licking. You arch your back, leaning into his mouth as he works his way down your body. “Did you… like with my shirt… when I saw you before…”

“What? Did I get off to your scent?” he asks. “Yes.” His hand follows his mouth, fingers curling into the band of your tights. “I told myself I shouldn’t. The last few ruts I managed. It wasn’t fun, mostly too hot, but I got by. But – you weren’t coming back, were you? You left so many pretty things here that made me think of you…”

He abruptly kneels upright. He uses both hands to grab the waistband of your tights.

“Found one of your cardigans,” he says. “Soft, like you. Put it on my pillow and fucked my hand like I wanted to fuck you.”

He rips your tights open with little effort, tearing right down to the thigh.

“Put it on my face,” he says. “Tasted it. Like I wanted to taste you.”

You moan for him, threading your fingers through his hair as he gets between your legs and opens his mouth on your pussy. He licks right through the material of your panties, like he doesn’t care at all, tormenting you with the obstruction until it is soaked through. You say his name over and over, your thighs already shaking just from warming up.

“Mmm.” He pushes himself up again, his mouth wet, tongue sweeping over his lips. He grabs your panties by the waistband and tugs them down.

By now, his jeans have slid down his hips. He is so hard, beading at the tip, as wet for you as you are for him. You watch as he uses your panties to quickly jerk his cock, gathering the wetness at the tip, then tossing them over his shoulder.

He falls back on top of you, face between your legs, licking you with nothing in his way.

“Wanted to find you,” he says between teasing kitten licks, looking up at you, smirking with the flick of his tongue. “Wanted to make you come so hard – mm, fuck you so good…” He slips two fingers inside you. Even though it has been some time, they move with no hindrance, your pussy so wet that he sinks right in.

“Yeah,” he says, momentarily going cross-eyed with his face so close to your pussy, watching his fingers move in and out of you. He grins when you clench around him. “Show you we were meant to be,” he says. “Just like this.” He licks you again, fingers moving so quickly that it sounds as obscenely wet as it feels. “Wolf or not. Knew you were mine. Was gonna make sure you know too.”

“Ohh,” you say, tugging at the blankets beneath you. “Who are you and what have you done with my sunshine Felix?”

He laughs, a low chuckle, the vibrations moving in your pussy.

“Mm, I’m right here, sweetheart,” he says. “Right… here…”

Then his mouth is occupied, little licks replaced with broad strokes of his tongue, then a repeating pattern that has you swelling and gushing on his tongue. You come so hard that it makes you dizzy, head thrown back as you squirt all over his thrusting fingers.

“That’s it,” he says, kissing your wet thighs.

While you are recovering, he grabs you and moves you. He arranges you neatly in the middle of the bed, making sure you are comfortable. Then he lets down his hair and removes his jeans.

“Felix,” you say, though it is generous to describe your voice as anything but a needy whimper.

He runs his hands up and down your trembling thighs, coaxing you open with murmurs of sweet nothings. You let him in, stringing your arms around his neck as he fits his hips between your legs and leans over you. You feel the head of his cock against your pussy, still throbbing with aftershocks. You are clenching around nothing, needing him, so ready you could scream.

You don’t scream, but sigh, like you are relieved when he gets inside you, like this is what you have been missing all along.

He takes his time despite the fever of his rut. Maybe because of it. His senses are so heightened, the pleasure felt so strongly. He groans, eyes closed, putting his face in your neck and breathing deeply as he slowly rocks into you.

“What were you thinking,” he murmurs, lips moving on your throat, “Trying to run away from me?”

“I’m – I’m sorry,” you say, interrupted with a hiccupping little uh-uh when he rolls his hips and you feel him deeper, harder, faster.

“You thought I wanted someone else?” he asks. “Impossible.”

Your eyes are closed, head thrown back. He grabs your chin and pulls your face to him, says, “Look at me. Right now.”

You do, blinking your eyes open. His thumb rubs your bottom lip and you open your mouth. You don’t even need to think, instantly accepting the intrusion of the digit, sucking on it while holding his gaze.

It would have terrified you a year ago, with anyone else, losing yourself to instinct like that, opening yourself up so willingly. With Felix, it feels right, it feels good.

“It’s you and me,” he says. “You understand that?”

You nod, humming affirmatively around his thumb. It rubs over your tongue, opens your mouth a little more. You want to close your eyes with every rolling thrust into you, but he tugs your face back to him when you try.

“You’re my mate,” he says. “Just you. It’s always – always been you.” He groans on the second always, picking up some speed, making you whine against his fingers.

He is so hot, clearly in the grips of his rut fever, but you cling to him, accepting everything he has to offer.

“Gonna be mine,” he says. “That’s right, yeah?” You nod frantically. “Yeah. Gonna put a ring on your finger. You’re gonna be so good to me, aren’t you? Gonna let me take care of you. Gonna be my mate. Gonna have my children. You and me. Home. Oh, yes, sweetheart, that’s it—”

You clench so tightly at the mention of children. It catches you off guard, your body’s visceral and immediate response, faster than your brain compute can why. You have told Felix you want children one day, in the future, back when you were just friends and it was an abstract thought. Thinking of a home with him, having his children, making a whole life together, being bound so completely …

“Fuck,” you say, his thumb sliding out of your mouth. He cups your face to keep it locked on him, your lips brushing each other.

“Look at me,” he whispers.

You do, though you are so close that you barely see him. It feels like he is everywhere, everything, around you and inside you. You melt when he kisses you, stealing your breath as he claims you so completely. You kiss back, messy and haphazard, all heat and wetness, but it feels good.

“C-can’t get pregnant,” you say with a pout, a bit delirious from getting fucked, letting the words roll thoughtlessly off your tongue. “B-birth control.”

“I know,” he says. He moves a little, gets up so he can hold your hips and pull you onto his cock with every thrust. “I’m stronger,” he says, just as deliriously, watching where his cock moves inside you. “Yeah. Gonna fill you up so much, it’ll happen anyway. It can’t stop me.”

He holds your hips, keeps you in place. He thrusts into you deeply and says, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and thrusts again, “You’re mine,” and comes inside you.

It is not quite like all the werewolf pornography, with exaggerated knots on preposterously sized cocks, but werewolf physiology is still a little different than human. That difference is exacerbated on a rut. You feel it as he comes, the way he swells and gets harder, just enough that you feel your fullest as he releases. Pushing at you walls, stretching you around him, making you his without question.

He doesn’t really soften after, the rut sustaining him, but the swelling goes down. Even then, not entirely, as you feel a sharper burn when he pulls out of you. The flicker of pain is oddly tantalizing, a biting sensation on top of so many others. It ripples through you, makes you moan.

Your whole body is twitching, eyes closed as you come back to yourself.

You look up at Felix. His eyes are between your legs, his hand running up your thigh. You feel his thumb spread your pussy open, feel his release spilling out of you. That is the other different element; with a werewolf, there is a lot more of everything.

Though you know your birth control will function regardless, when you feel all that inside you… for a moment, you believe he might be strong enough to overpower it.

It makes you giddy, pleasure moving through your body. He smiles at you, all sunshine and sweetness. Then he takes control of your hips and puts himself back inside you. The refractory period on a rut is virtually nonexistent on the peak day, which is usually the second day, which is today.

“You okay?” he asks, rocking into you slowly even though he fits so easily now, your body made to take him.

You nod, sliding your hands over his shoulders. You scratch across his back then up in his hair, making him grunt and close his eyes. He leans down and kisses you, continuing to fuck you until you are making all those sweet sounds again.

“Good?” he asks, kissing your jaw, your neck.

“Good,” you say.

“Not too much?” he checks.

“Mm, no,” you say. You give him a teasing smile. “Not enough actually.”

“Oh, really?” He laughs, eyes big with playful incredulity. “Should I growl and bite more?” He makes a playful snarl like the werewolves in all the erotica.

It makes you laugh. You can’t remember the last time you laughed while having sex, but it feels so good, just as good as all the hot, desperate stuff.

“Hmm, maybe not,” he says, laughing too. “Maybe all the making-a-bitch stuff is a bit much, hm?”

It seems you will learn more about yourself than him over this rut, because that also makes you clench involuntarily. He blinks with surprise, mouth in a soft ‘o’ as he looks down at you. He laughs just a little at the look on your face, a low chuckle as his grin widens.

You cover your mouth, blinking innocently up at him.

“Oh shit,” he says. “I see.”

You pout when he pulls out of you, but there is little time to feel bereft because he flips you over onto your front. Your face lands in the pillows, then he yanks you down the bed.

Oh, it feels filthy suddenly, because the new angle opens you up and you can feel come dripping out of you. It catches his eye too, because he puts his fingers there and stuffs it back inside you.

With little effort, he gets you back under him, pushes down your shoulders and lifts up your hips. You feel him at your entrance again, pushing the tip past the rim.

“Is that it?” he asks, dropping his voice so low yet sounding so sweet. “You want me to make you my bitch, baby?”

He slams home, holding your hips up while pounding into you with relentless measure. You grab a pillow to hold, yelping and whining into it as he fucks you with wild abandon.

For a few seconds, you succumb to that single-minded animalistic pursuit, and you really do believe he can put a baby in you. You start babbling the desire – begging for it, asking him to fill you up.

“Please, please, please,” you say, gasping.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he says, draping himself over your back, not stopping his hips for a second. “I got you. I’ll give you a baby. So good for me. Made to take it from me, yeah, baby?”

You know you are going to come again, his angle and precision too much to withstand. Sure enough, you are coming all over his cock in a matter of seconds, squeezing him into another orgasm too.

He kneels behind you, throws his head back while coming. Then he grinds inside you like he is trying to get it as deep as possible.

“Oh, Felix,” you say, whimpering when he pulls out, still hard, the burn less this time because you are so filthy wet that he slides so easily. You can feel his release gush out of you, his fingers chasing it, pushing back into you.

He rubs at you until you are rocking your hips and coming on his fingers. It is so much stimulation that your eyes water and your nose starts to sniffle.

He rolls you over and cups your face. You open your mouth instinctively, tilting your head to expose your neck. He looks at you like he can’t really believe you are exist and that you are here.

“Wow,” he says. The hand on your face slides so he can put his thumb back in your mouth, letting you suck on it like it is giving you life. He clenches his jaw, makes a rough sound, presses down on your needy tongue. “Next time,” he says, while starting to put his cock back into you, “Your mouth. And my mouth. You’re gonna sit on my face for hours. I’m gonna take care of you. Oh—”

He is halfway inside you when you reach up, putting your hands on his chest. He stops immediately, pulling out, taking back his hands, looking at you with a concerned tilt to his head.

“Will you lay on your back?” you ask, voice hoarse.

He blinks, like for a second he doesn’t understand words, but then he obeys. His hair is in absolute disarray, a veritable lion’s mane. He rakes it back, smooths it down as best he can. He never takes his eyes off you, watching as you sit up, as you climb on top of him, as you put him back inside you and set a slower pace.

“My turn,” you say, smiling. “I want to take care of you too.”

He smiles, putting his hands on your hips but not guiding them. He lets you take the lead, moving on top of him, finding all the ways to make him moan and close his eyes and twitch inside you.

You make him come twice that way. After the second time, he finally starts to soften enough that you can take a break.

You lay down beside him, squeaking with surprise when you press down on your belly and a little more come gushes out of you. You look at each other, his face the picture of total innocence despite his hand in it. You swat his chest, rolling onto your side and putting your head on his chest.

He laughs, putting his arm around you, stroking your back.

“You know I do mean it,” he says, looking down at you. “I want everything with you.”

“Me too,” you say. You kiss his chest, then his neck, under his jaw, making him sigh contently. “I love you, Felix. Everything about you, wolf and all.”

“I love you too,” he says, pressing you close, kissing your forehead.

There is a long moment of content silence. He strokes your back, up and down, lulling you to a dozy state. It is too early to sleep and, besides, the sheets need changing before that – even though you suspect they will just be dirtied again.

You are contemplating these sweet mundane nothings when he says, “You’re in the pack, you know. As my mate. That makes you one of us.”

“Does it?” you ask.

“Yes,” he says. “I’m telling you this, because you’re a packmate and Chan is leader, but you’re my mate, so you have to take my side and tell him to fuck off when he tries to say I told you so.”

You laugh, shaking your head and playfully rolling your eyes.

“Sounds good,” you say. “Hmm, I might go have a shower before… the next… round…”

You do not have to look down to know that he is hard already, his blinking gaze revealing all. You giggle together and kiss again.

“All right, fair enough,” you say, eyes closed, exposing your neck obediently when he cups your nape. You press against him, moaning softly when he scents your neck then sucks a bruising kiss there. “It can wait,” you say, smiling. “We’ve been waiting for this long enough.”

“Mm,” he says, already slipping back into his feverish need. He grabs you and pulls you back on top of him.

There is not much talking for a while, but there is some laughter and plenty of smiles, and for the first time in a long time, you are looking forward to everything that follows after.

#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix smut #felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x you #skz x you #yongbbokkie #valentinesdaystories

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kisakis-boyfriend · 2 months ago

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Dazai, Chuuya, & Kunikida x werewolf reader

Author's Note: Requested by the same anon who asked for this with Fyodor, Nikolai, & Sigma. I just had to break up the posts thanks to tumblr's tag limits 🙄 + bonus Kunikida because I can ✨

Pairings: Dazai, Chuuya, & Kunikida x male reader (separately)

Warnings: Male werewolf!reader, dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!characters, implied dom Chuuya as well, mentions of breeding, knotting, rough sex (Chuuya), heat cycle, Dazai calls you 'belladonna'

Dazai

The Shameless Slut

“Ooh please fill me up, my love! I'll gladly take all of your dick uwu”

Yeah, Dazai can get a little too excited about your werewolf form sometimes…

He can be such a pillow princess too. He just likes to lay there and show off his beautiful body while you're carving your place in his insides

Scarily possessive when you pop your knot into him

As soon as Dazai feels that sudden stretch, he's locking his legs around you and pressing it further in

His fingers tangle in your coarse fur, and a groan slips out–

“Yes! Tell me I'm yours, belladonna!” he'll rasp, staring you down with enough intensity to make your heart skip a beat

If you're comfortable with it, Dazai will brag about his insanely hot werewolf boyfriend

Rip ADA members who have to hear about you every single day… and rip PM members who also hear about Dazai's horny bf every time they meet 😅

Chuuya

The Greedy Slut

That's not your massive dick, it's Chuuya's. And you'd do well to remember that

Your werewolf form does something to Chuuya's brain. The man already enjoys rough sex, but this large, canine form stirs something up in his belly

Demands to be bred. There better be no cum spillage, it has to be in his hole(s)

Definitely uses his special ability to make you hit deeper and pound harder — so much so that it's caused Chuuya to pass out before

After that first time, Chuuya asked if you kept going. And when you said of course not, he looked rather disappointed 😟

From then on, you agreed to breed him whether he was still conscious or not (within reason, though)

Calls you 'good puppy' and similar affectionate terms

You two have had conversations about buying a collar and leash — and, if you choose to incorporate that into your sex life, you won't regret it. Chuuya will make very good use of them 😏

Kunikida

The Slut in Denial

Also a total denial slut

He would never admit to this even on his deathbed; but Kunikida loves edging

If you lick the underside of his cock with your rough canine tongue, growling at your beloved to hold it all in? The only thing Kunikida will have in his vision are stars swirling around

I don't think he would admit to loving your primal sex sessions either. Not unless he was already deep in sub space

On all fours, your larger form hunched over his body while your balls slap against Kunikida's ass, your fur tickling his back — this is when he'd slur out how much he loves taking your cock 💛

Also one to keep track of the moon's cycle. It's important to know when his partner will transform or go into heat

Dating a werewolf was never a part of his ideals, but he doesn't regret a thing

Becoming your mate has improved Kuni's life in all sorts of ways — whether we're talking about the amount of love he receives, or the benefits of nasty werewolf sex 😌

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wizardofrozz · 1 year ago

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WHAT THE FUCK

Yeah so I need checked into an asylum. Urgently. Send help.

“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says.

Nothing's happened yet and I'm already losing it.

A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you. His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.

I think there's something wrong with me. Send help...again.

Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad?

This visual murdered me. His shoulders will always make me unwell.

Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.

To break out of my simp screeching, I love this visual. The echo of the man he is on the inside portrayed on his fur is beautiful and I will never stop thinking about it.

Well, back on my bullshit. JESUS CHRIST. I need to go talk a lap or something.

“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.”

Don't mind me, disintegrating on the spot.

I feel like I've said this multiple times but...what have you done to me??? God I need to go stare at the wall or something. Fantastic job with this fic, I can't scream about it enough!! I love how you write Hunter and this was just fantastic 🖤

Midnight Masquerade - Hunter

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Hunter, and you get a classic monsterfuck.

Chapter Warnings: minors be gone; werewolf!Hunter x f!reader, kinks: predator/prey + knotting; desired fear, discussion of consent and rules, thrill of the chase, hiding, oral (f receiving), slightly graphic description of werewolf transformation, pain, unprotected PiV sex, multiple orgasms, creampie, lots of cum, breeding kink if you squint and hold it sideways, mentions of blood, one instance of near dub-con (reader says “i can’t” and Hunter says otherwise), some aftercare

Word Count: 4.0k (i'm not even ashamed of this one)

A/N: please please heed the warnings on this one. while there is a discussion of consent at the beginning, once the werewolf appears, there is no more discussion. I will say right now: reader wants everything that happens. the fear reader experiences is akin to the desired fear one gets from going through haunted houses or watching scary movies. it costs nothing to keep on scrolling if you don't think you're the intended audience for this fic.

also yes i'm posting this on the full moon. and yes it's the Hunter's Moon. i planned this >:)

...Hunter.

As the bottle rocks to a halt, you glance up to meet Hunter’s piercing gaze. He’s always been extra perceptive, always had the ability to make you feel like he’s seeing through you, but tonight, with magic coursing through him, his eyes pin you in place. A smirk tilts the corners of his mouth up.

Your breath shudders out of your chest in anticipation as you let your eyes wander over his costume-turned-reality. Ragged lumberjack plaid stretches over his broad shoulders, torn in places to reveal the continuation of his skeleton tattoo. His teeth have sharpened into points, bared in a grin as the smirk on his face widens. Even his hair, usually so neatly held back by his bandana, is fluffier, longer, wilder.

The strobing, dancing lights reflect yellow eyeshine in his gaze, and you shiver. Arousal already begins to pool in your lower belly, molten heat stirring faintly. Hunter’s nostrils flare as he breathes in. The way his eyes flutter lets you know that he can smell you even amidst the press of sweaty bodies, spilled alcohol, and sickly sweet fog. A whimper falls from you, unheard by anyone except him.

Hunter twirls a fresh shot of clear alcohol between his fingers. “Well, mesh’la?”

“U-Um,” you say. The rest of the troopers at the table don’t even bother to hide their smug smirks. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

Downing the shot, Hunter slams the glass on the table, shaking his unruly curls out of his face. Then he stands, his broad shoulders and narrow waist drawing your gaze down. Already you catch the hint of a bulge outlined at the apex of his thighs. Your mouth waters, body coming alive with electric desire, and you resist the impulse to squeeze your legs together.

Following his lead, you stand as well. He tucks you against his side and leads you through the crowd. Pressed against him, your senses are flooded with the furnace-like heat he radiates, the unique scent of spice and dirt that fills your nose, the tingling sense of controlled danger where his claw-tipped fingers scratch ever so lightly against your waist. You swallow heavily. Kriff, this is going to be a fun night, and you’re grateful once again to whoever sent you the invite to this party.

To your surprise, Hunter steers you towards the bar. With gentle pressure on your lower back, he guides you to one of the leather stools, but remains standing himself. He leans his forearm on the sticky bartop next to you, his other hand resting on the swell of your thigh.

“Need some more liquid courage, Sarge?” you say with a teasing smile, your words sounding much more cool and collected than you actually feel.

He barks a short laugh. “Hardly. No, I would rather keep this experience between us from start to finish. I...” He trails off, eyes studying your face before drifting down to your body, sitting stiff and wound up before him. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. “...want you to know what you’re getting into.”

“And what is it that I’m getting into?” you ask. You lean closer to him, so close you can feel his warm breath puffing over your face.

“An experience that requires a few ground rules.”

You nod for him to continue.

“One: when I catch you, don’t run,” he says.

The bottom of your stomach drops out with excitement. “‘When’?”

The grin he gives you is wolfish—there’s no other word for it. His teeth bare in a smile masquerading as a snarl, eyeshine glinting once again. “That’s right.”

“W-What’s rule two?”

“If you change your mind, you fight as hard as you can. And hit the panic button on this comlink.” He slips the small metal device from his jeans pocket and holds it between clawed fingers. “I don’t know how much I’ll be able to stay in control if I transform.”

Gripping the comlink with shaking fingers, you locate the panic button and, with a nod, tuck the device into your pocket. “Rule three?”

Hunter tilts his head, seeming to look through you again. You fidget in your seat until you realize he must be listening to your body—you become intensely aware of the way that your heart hammers against your ribcage, pulse racing, and of the heat scorching through your veins only to pool deep in your core. When he refocuses on your face again, your cunt clenches around nothing at the hungry look in his eyes.

“Rule three,” he echoes, “don’t hold back.”

He tilts your head up to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You moan in surprise, body melting with little resistance into his touch. His teeth nip at your bottom lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough that the quick sting sends a jolt of pleasure through you. Resting your palms on his chest, you delight in the way his muscles flex and how he seems to quiver. Like he’s holding himself back, despite his order for you to do the opposite.

You break away with a gasp. Hunter nudges your face to the side and, growling, presses his nose to the pulse point below your jaw. You gasp as he inhales your scent.

“Fuck, mesh’la,” he rasps, his words only meant for you, “you smell good enough to eat.”

You bite your lip to keep your moan contained, still aware of the bartender shooting you a mildly amused look and of the dozens of people around you right now. As if he can sense you holding back—because he probably can—Hunter bites your neck.

“Rule three,” he husks.

“I’ll follow your rules if you follow them, too,” you gasp out. “Don’t you dare hold back, either.”

He pulls back from you, hooded eyes meeting yours. Whatever he searches for in your gaze, he must find, because a slow, predatory grin spreads over his face.

“Deal,” he says. “I’ll give you a head start. And then I’m going to fuck you, wherever I find you. Understood?”

You can’t stop the whine that slips from your throat. “Y-Yes. Understood.”

“Good.” He steadies you as you slide off the stool onto shaky legs. “Now run.”

Your brain is several seconds behind, still stuck on the barely-contained growl in his voice and the way your skin shivers with goosebumps, but your body reacts immediately. Legs pumping, you take off through the crowd. Half-assed apologies tumble from you as you knock into people. You have no idea where you’re running to—you don’t even know how much of a head start he’s giving you. You just know you have to hide. Every instinct in you screams to run, to get to safety, to evade the burning gaze you can feel on your back even as you duck and weave between troopers.

You dash through an open doorway and skid to a halt, chest heaving with adrenaline. Before you lie several choices: a branching hallway filled with doors, an exit dead ahead, or a stairwell climbing up to a second-story exit. Glancing over your shoulder, you don’t see Hunter following yet. Part of you, a depraved, wholly needy part of you, wonders how much you should even try to hide—but an even more depraved part of you urges you to make it a challenge. How long will it take for him to find you if you try?

Mind made up, you take the stairs two at a time and shove against the push-bar so the door swings open. But you don’t step through it. Instead, you let it shut on its own, then you turn and, emboldened by equal parts thrill and desire, you brace your hands on the metal bannister. Heaving yourself up over it, you try to keep as little contact with the railing as possible.

Your stomach lurches as you drop the ten feet to the permacrete flooring. Thankfully, no joints sprain, and you don’t feel any pain in your shins from the impact.

Unharmed and feeling pleased with yourself, you bolt through the ground-floor exit.

Outside, the cool night air kisses your skin and wicks away the sweat that’s already gathered along your forehead. Head turning in either direction, you frantically search for someplace to hide. There’s the crystal forest, sure—but you don’t fancy getting poked with a thousand tiny shards like the ones you walked across when you arrived. You could sneak around the building and run back to the tiny spaceport. But that feels too...predictable. Why run when you can try to hide in plain sight?

To your right, a ladder leads up to the second-floor rooftop. Grabbing onto the cold rungs, you pull yourself up, hands and feet flying. You reach the top and, panting, survey your options.

This rooftop is barren, save for the doorway you assume leads to the stairs you leapt off. But the next building over has several clusters of chairs and tables, tucked into the shadows of a decorative art piece that twists with elegant curves towards the cloud-studded sky.

You go to take a step when an idea strikes you. You rip off your jacket, baring your arms to the chilled air, and drape it over the edge of the rooftop next to the ladder. Maybe the extra body heat, sweat, and scent clinging to the fabric will draw his attention and throw him off?

You slink to the closed doorway, then leap past it. You really have no idea how much of your scent you’re leaving behind, or what clues he’ll use to find you, but leaving as few footprints behind seems like a safe bet. Once you’re past the doorway, you break into a sprint again. The next-door rooftop isn’t too far, and after a relatively easy jump, you stumble toward the table tucked closest to the art piece.

As quickly and quietly as you can, you crawl under the small, square table and arrange the chairs to block your body from view. It’s not perfect, by any means, but it’s the best you can do.

And it’s not a moment too soon. The door on the other rooftop slams open. Hunter’s dark silhouette stalks out. Even from this distance, you can make out the way his head twitches back and forth as he tries to sniff out your trail. Clenching your jaw, you do your best to calm your labored breathing and urge your racing heart to slow. Anticipation trembles in your limbs.

Hunter jogs to the ladder and picks up your discarded jacket. He leans precariously over the edge of the roof, searching, and for a moment you think you’ve won.

The wind shifts.

Cool air sighing past you, you shiver as the sweat dries on your skin. A moment later, Hunter’s head snaps up, and he looks straight at you.

His teeth shine as he bares them in a dangerous smile.

“Oh kriff.”

You gather your feet beneath you before you remember rule one: don’t run. All you can do is sit, frozen and shaking, beneath the would-be safety of the small table. Hunter prowls toward you.

When he makes the jump between rooftops, you whimper, scrabbling backward until your shoulders bump against the swirling art piece, deeper into the shadows. You know it won’t help, but the darkness is comforting. Cold seeps into your bones even as your body alights once more with fresh arousal. Kark, have his shoulders always been so broad?

He comes to a stop directly in front of the table you hide beneath. For a moment, you hold your breath, and the world around you seems to freeze. What is he waiting for?

The table and chairs scatter with a crash as he yanks the furniture away from you.

You yelp, surprised fear thrumming through your veins. Above you, standing tall and imposing, Hunter cocks his head at you. He tosses your jacket in your lap.

“Nice trick,” he says. His voice grates against your skin, causing you to shiver. “Woulda worked if the wind hadn’t changed.” Then he shakes his head. “Well, it woulda worked for a moment. Could smell your cunt all the way over there.”

He lowers until he crouches in front of you. In the faint starlight, his skull tattoo stands in stark relief, a terrifying visage of death. Your lips part as you pant with need.

“Fuck, you have no idea how good you smell,” he murmurs. His dark gaze rakes over your cowering form, his tongue wetting his lips. “C’mere.”

Clawed fingers wrapping around your ankles, he yanks you towards him. You yelp, body stretching flat, and he uses your momentary surprise to tear your pants from you. The fabric yields with a loud rrrrrrip, only to hang in tatters from your waist.

“K-Kriff,” you swear. “Hunter—”

He shushes you gently. “Let me taste you.”

He hooks one claw under the flimsy elastic band of your underwear and, with a sharp tug, the fabric snaps twice against your skin. When he peels back the ruined undergarment, you both groan at the faint, shimmery line of slick that pulls away with it.

Like a man starved, Hunter presses your legs wide open and buries his face in your wet pussy. All concerns about your ruined clothes flee as soon as he licks through your folds. You cry out, pleasure rippling through you as his warm mouth envelopes your center. Propping yourself up on one elbow, you twist the fingers of one hand into his curls, holding his head against you. Your hips rock in pure reaction. Hunter growls, the noise vibrating against your clit. His eyes pierce yours, dark wells of lust and need. Your mouth falls open as you moan. The sounds of your pleasure bounce off the sculpture behind you.

“F-Fuck, Hunter!” you squeal as he sucks on your clit.

He drags his nose through your folds, inhaling your sweet scent. “You’re soaked, mesh’la. Did you like running from me, huh? Liked running from the big bad wolf?”

“Ye-e-e-es!” you keen, throwing your head back as he fucks you with his tongue. Deep in your belly, the molten lava of your desire begins to solidify into something more solid, something that promises bone-melting pleasure.

Overhead, past the art installation, you watch with hazy eyes as the clouds drift lazily across the sky. Steadily, the night grows brighter. Though your upper body remains in shadow, your legs, and with them, Hunter, become bathed in silvery moonlight.

Hunter’s grip on your thighs turns painful. His claws press a little too hard against your soft skin. Wincing, you snap your attention back to where Hunter’s mouth closes around your cunt. A moan punches out of your chest as you watch his eyes blink rapidly, shifting from lust-blown to golden and shining, alight with an intelligence that isn’t quite human.

He shoves himself back from you, stumbling away, his entire body convulsing. “D-Don’t run,” is all he manages to grit out before—

Snap!

You gasp, unable to do anything but watch with wide eyes as Hunter’s body violently contorts and transforms before you. His limbs elongate, knees bending unnaturally, ribs cracking as a new form tears itself out of his skin. Fear and desire chase each other through your body; you don’t know which one you feel most intensely.

With a deep, sonorous howl, the Hunter you know is replaced by a hulking wolven beast. Crouched on two legs, the werewolf pants heavily, staring down at massive, clawed hands. Hunter’s clothes hang off the beast in rags, shredded by the way his body swelled and grew during the transformation. But what strikes you the most is his fur. Dark gray fur, shot through with white streaks, falls in a shaggy coat all across his body. With a jolt you realize the white fur matches exactly the skeleton tattoo Hunter bears—in his wolf form, the tattoo is still humanoid, reflecting the person now trapped within.

“H-Hunter?” you ask, voice shaky and tentative.

The wolf snaps his attention to you. Those bright, intelligent golden eyes lock onto yours as a snarl, animalistic and deep, tears from him, his teeth bared. His snout, rough and ridged, twitches as he scents you. Your legs remain open, slick folds still bared and glistening in the moonlight.

Dropping onto all fours, the werewolf sniffs the air again. Then, quicker than you can fully process, the wolf pounces. His claws dig into your sides as he drags you closer once more, a startled scream tearing from your throat. The sound only seems to encourage him. Growling deep in his chest, Hunter—the werewolf—he lowers his head and licks a stripe up your pussy.

You gasp at the odd sensation. His tongue is long and rough against your sensitive skin, but you find it strangely pleasurable. A shudder runs up your body as the wolf laps at your dripping core; the heat simmering in your lower belly blazes back to life, a raging inferno of need blinding you to the fear of what this wolf really could do to you if he wanted. But you don’t dare move within his grasp.

You fight to keep your hips still as you watch the werewolf lick your cunt. Gasping for breath, you catch sight of something—something thick and red, hanging between his thighs.

A groan claws out of you. “F-Fuck. Hunter, please.”

Whether the werewolf understands you or not, you’re unsure, but he withdraws his mouth, the fur around his lips soaked with your juices. You heave a shuddering gasp as he hooks one large hand under your ass, angling your body. His other hand wraps around his large, throbbing cock. Watching in fascination, you moan as the slim, pointed tip drags through your soaked folds.

“Please,” you whimper. “Please.”

With another low growl, Hunter thrusts into you, burying his thick length to the hilt. You shout, pleasure and pain biting through you in equal measures, as he splits you open. Walls fluttering around the intrusion, you go boneless, forcing yourself to relax.

Hunter sets a brutal, punishing pace. His cock reaches parts of you no one ever has before, stretching you in ways that you’re sure will ruin you for anyone else. High, heady moans tumble from you with every sharp thrust of his hips, your nipples pebbled in the cold night air. One of your hands squeezes the soft flesh of your breasts, the other snaking down between your bodies to circle around your clit. Pleasure spikes within you, orgasm drawing closer as you play with yourself.

“G-Gonna—” You let out a choked moan. “Gonna cum.”

Maybe the wolf does understand you, because he bares his teeth in a terrifying display, his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Spit drools onto your heated skin. Gathering some of it on your fingers, you return to your clit to rub frantic circles there.

Hunter adjusts the angle of your hips by a fraction, and you cum with a scream as he drives into that one devastating spot inside you. Back arching off the permacrete ground, your vision whites out as the wolf fucks you through your orgasm. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure crests over you, until you’re sobbing from overstimulation.

Pushing with weak arms on the wolf’s chest, you somehow manage to get him to pull out of you, to give you a moment to catch your breath and recover. The wolf looms over you, panting and drooling. His cock twitches when you reach down to stroke the strange appendage.

“Good boy,” you mutter, leaning up to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. On a whim, you reach up to scratch behind one of his ears. The wolf’s eyes slide shut, a pleased hum vibrating in his chest.

Then his instincts seem to kick back in. With a huff, Hunter flips you, his nails scratching across the soft skin of your tummy. Chest pressed to the ground, ass in the air, you whine brokenly as he pushes his length into your tight heat once again. You rock your hips, meeting him thrust for thrust, mind melting into incoherency as he fucks against that shattered piece of heaven in your cunt. A second orgasm begins to build in your lower belly, and you desperately chase it, circling your clit once again.

Hunter is getting close as well. His incessant growls are steadily becoming higher, more akin to whines than snarls. His claws dig into your flesh hard enough to break skin; tiny rivulets of blood slide down your front. You don’t care, just so long as he makes you cum again. Tears form in the corners of your eyes as your body winds tighter and tighter, orgasm threatening to pull you under at any moment. In your slick cunt, Hunter’s cock pulses, and seems to bulge.

Then, without warning, he buries himself in you as deep as he can go. You cry out, body shuddering with pleasure as his cock—swelling and knotting—presses against your walls. You cum on his knot like that, squealing in delight, nerves obliterated and frayed as he cums with a howl. Knot pulsing, he paints your insides with ropes of hot cum that just don’t seem to stop. He fills you to the brim, and then some—you can feel his hot spend dripping down your thighs where it leaks out past his cock.

Slowly, Hunter begins to transform back into himself. His fingernails shrink, pulling the tips from your body. His fur dissolves into ash, and now against your back, his sweaty skin sticks to yours where he gasps for air. But his cock remains knotted in your cunt, both of you swollen and sensitive.

You regain the ability to talk before he does. “H-Hunter. Hey. You okay?”

He hums, forehead pressed between your shoulder blades.

“I need a verbal answer,” you say between pants.

“I’m—fuck, I’m good.” He pushes himself off you with shaky arms. But he remains kneeling behind you, locked in your tight walls. “Did I hurt you?”

“Not in any way that I didn’t like,” you say. “Honestly kind of forgot about the panic button. Not that I wanted to use it,” you hurry to add. “That was... I don’t even have the words. ‘Amazing’ doesn’t cut it.”

He chuckles, and the vibrations make you both moan. Your pussy clenches weakly around him. With warm, human fingers, Hunter squeezes the flesh of your ass and rocks you gently back and forth.

“Oh stars,” you breathe. “I can’t, Hunter, it’s too much—”

“You can,” he murmurs. His hands help you move, each gentle thrust loosening the knot still swollen inside you. “You can take it, mesh’la.”

Keening, your hands scrabble for purchase. Fingers wrapping around his wrists where he holds you, you crane your neck to look back at him over your shoulder. His face is sweaty, hair plastered to his skin, and his lips are flushed and swollen. His eyes are half-lidded and still dark with lust. In a word, he looks debauched. When his gaze meets yours, he smirks.

“That’s it,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your hips. “Just like that.”

You cum again, preening under his praise despite the way your aching body screams for rest. This orgasm is slow, bone-deep and debilitating in its power. But the extra gush of slick is enough to push Hunter out of you. You both groan at the sensation of separating.

“Look at that,” Hunter murmurs. When you glance back again, his eyes are transfixed on your cunt. His cum, all of it, wells up and spills out of your spent pussy. Seemingly without realizing it, he gathers some of the sticky substance and pushes it back into your cunt with his thumb.

You hiss. He withdraws his hands, then tugs you up onto your knees and cradles you to his chest. “You did so well, mesh’la.”

“You, too, Hunter,” you mumble against his skin. For a long while, the pair of you remain there, wrapped in a comforting embrace, until you chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” he asks.

“Our clothes are ruined,” you say. “How are we supposed to go anywhere?”

He laughs with you, despite not having an answer. That’s alright, you think, it’s an excuse to get him into one of those rooms downstairs....

Ragu: @the-hexfiles @thorsterstrudle @dystopicjumpsuit @clonemedickix @freesia-writes @littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @sev-on-kamino @starrylothcat @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @mandos-mind-trick @idontgetanysleep @eyeluvmusic21 @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @dreamie411 @bobaprint @imarvelatthestars @originalcollectionartistry @droids-you-are-looking-for @goblininawig @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @9902sgirl @jedi-hawkins if your name has a strikethrough, I can't tag you so check your settings! (if you'd like to be added or removed, click here!)

#dont perceive me #tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter #monster au #star wars #the bad batch #star wars au #the bad batch au #werewolf hunter

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jeonride · 1 year ago

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wonwoo reading list / fic recs part 3 !

don't forget to like + reblog fics that you like to support the authors <3

navigation

FICS ! ✧*。

A Winter Interlude (fluff, light angst, children's book illustrator!wonwoo) by @/ wondernus

Introduce Me A Good Person (fluff, angst, friends to lover, doctor!wonwoo) by @taeyegu

The Peephole (smut, roommate!wonwoo, obsessive tho) by @rubyreduji

Work Husband (fluff, smut, slice of life, coworker!wonwoo) by @bitchlessdino

I Found Love in Your Smile The Series (fluff, angst, doctor!wonwoo x lawyer fem!reader) by @wonlouvre

Bloodily Safe (smut, psychopath!wonwoo) by @starlightxsvt

Pretty Boy (fluff with smut, gamer!wonwoo) by @/fvllingflower

The Other Woman (implied smut, angst, fluff) by @idyllic-ghost

Silk (smut, established relationship) by @angelwoozi

Underlying Pretense (smut) by @lovelyhan

The Bore Next Door (smut) by @ncteez

Blown Up Love (fluff, gamer!woo, university au) by @starsstuddedsky

With Wonwoo (ceo!wonwoo x ceo!reader, fluff) by @wonlouvre

Nameless (fluff, some angst, firebender!wonwoo) by @twogyuu

Until It Feels Like You're in Heaven (smut, fluff) by @odetojeons

Sweet Chaos (angst, light fluff, assassin!wonwoo) by @viastro

One for The Tales (fluff, royal au) by @leejungchans

X + Y = You and I (smut, rivals to lovers, college au) by @angelwonie

Bookworm (fluff, highschool au) by @viastro

Your Mess (smut, angst, fluff) by @onlymingyus

Rich Girl (smut) by @blushnote

Jeon's Anatomy The Series (neurosurgeon!wonwoo x pediatric!reader, Grey's Anatomy au) by @hansols-yoda-boxers

A Moon Without Stars (angst, smut) by @chocosvt

Pomegranates (angst, royal au) by @idyllic-ghost

Knuckles to Ink (fluff, humor, literature agent!wonwoo) by @dropsofletters

Ten Questions (angst, contains blood, violence, guns) by @chocosvt

Off Limits (fluff, angst, smut) by @hinaaspanda

Campus Crush (fluff, tutor!wonwoo) by @starlightxsvt

Play Again (romance, fluff, mild angst) by @shuarush

Loving Him Was Red (fluff, angst, sugar daddy/ceo!wonwoo) by @boowanie

25c Magic (all flufffff!!!) by @thepixelelf

Matters of The Heart and Capri Sun (fluff, angst, strangers to lovers) by @twogyuu

You Mean The World To Me (fluff, angst) by @svtskneecaps

A Boyfriend for Christmas (fluff, friends to lovers) by @junkissed

Game On (smut, established relationship) by @ahloveisboo

Wonwoo : Protector [Tales from The Pack] (mentions of smut, angst, werewolf!wonwoo) by @gamerwoo

Love Sonnet (fluff, established relationship) by @ann-non

Danced Around an Impossibility (fluff, angst, humor) by @dropsofletters

Sweet As Peach (romance, friends to lovers) by @xddaengx

Players (smut, slowburn) by @smileysuh

DRABBLES / SCENARIOS ! ✧*。

the way wonwoo kiss (fluffy and soft!) by @/gyuslcve

yin and yang (all fluff!) by @/boosari

drabbles below are made by @/pepperonidk

In this Life and The Next (fluff)

loving moments with wonwoo (all flufff!! <3)

the drabbles below are made by @hansols-yoda-boxers (wc. above 1k)

day (smut)

night (smut)

how to spice up a lecture (smut)

"bite me." "if you insist." (smut)

this sofa costs fifteen thousand dollars, don't you dare to ruin it (smut)

wonwoo x nipple play (smut) by @/sluttyminghao

andante, andante (smut, 3.1k words) by @sluttywonwoo

lazy days with bf!wonwoo (fluff, smut) by @/ressonancee

just as we are now and will always be (fluff, dad!wonwoo) by @februaryflowers

valentine's day event (fluff, kinda humor tho) by @etherealyoungk

and they were newlyweds (fluff, husband!wonwoo) by @viastro

wonwoo + pda (fluff) by @jeonhwang

별로 not enough (fluff) by @cheolsblackgf

in deep shit (fluff, college au) by @yjncty

late night (fluff) by @idyllic-ghost

wonwoo as synaesthesia (this is so beautiful please you have to read this) by @fairyhaos

tickling tendencies (fluff) by @heavenshoon

wasted (fluff) by @leejihoonownsmyheart

#wonwoo imagines #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo #svt scenarios #wonwoo smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo imagine #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #reading list #fic recommendation #fic recs #seventeen fic #wonwoo fic

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jinx-xxed · 2 months ago

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Beautiful Thing Caged

Chapter 3; Lost in the darkness, you will be found

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

A/N; I’ve been looking forward to this one 🙏 sorry it took me 12 years, now I can get to the good stuff hint hint nudge nudge

⇦ Part 2

Summary; You’ve made up your mind, and no one is going to get in your way.

Content; Werewolf AU, modern AU, werewolf Kylo Ren, human reader, or are they, scientist reader, soulmates, angst, reader has a small panic attack, running away from your problems, lying to and escaping the government, jailbreak time!!, Hux is an ass, size differences, Kylo gets bloody, murder, feral Kylo comes back for a second, becoming fugitives

[Each chapter will have specific content warnings]

Wc; 5.4k

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

“You what?”

You straighten your posture under Hux’s scrutinizing gaze, holding firm. “I want him taken off the chains.”

He looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind, and he asks as such. “Have you lost your mind? Those are there as a safety procedure. Who knows what it’ll do if it’s taken off the chains.”

You can’t help the way your brows furrow at how Hux speaks, how he refers to Kylo as if he isn’t a person. He’s just something to be looked at and studied. “With all due respect sir, I’ve been the one down there with him day after day for the past two months. Allowing him off of the chains will help me get more data on him, I could see how he moves around and how it affects his behaviors. If the situation becomes too dangerous, then by all means, put him back on them. But please, let me just try.”

There’s a minute where nothing happens, where Hux doesn’t speak and instead just stares at you with narrowed eyes and pursed lips. It’s like you can see the way his brain is turning, thinking about all the results you’ve been able to get him. It works in your favor because he pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a loud sigh. “You know what? Fine. I’ll sign my approval. I expect you to know what the fuck you’re doing.”

You smile despite yourself. “Thank you, sir.”

He waves a gloved hand, a glower still stuck on his face. “Don’t thank me. Just go home, doctor, before I change my mind.”

You dip your head, not one to disobey on something like that. “Of course. Goodnight, sir.”

You turn and leave Hux’s office, waves of accomplishment rippling through your body and adding an extra spring to your step. Removing the chains was something you’d been debating on for the past few weeks, wondering if it would even be a good idea to ask with the high possibility of getting denied immediately and raising suspicion. But because it was Kylo, you knew you at least had to try. You saw the way the chains inhibited him day after day, making him unable to stand properly and getting twisted around his limbs. You also saw how the cuffs rubbed the skin beneath raw, causing him pain every time he moved. The fact that they’ll be removed brings you relief.

You think about him as you get into your car, as you start the engine and follow the roads home. You find yourself doing that more and more frequently, ever since you’ve gotten to know him. You refuse to admit to yourself that honestly, he’s all you’ve been able to think about. Even when you’re at home on days off, you wonder about how or what Kylo’s doing. You also have an incessant, irrational fear in the back of your mind that worries about anyone else working on him or bothering him when you’re away. You always brush off those particular thoughts with the reminder that you’re still the only faculty member with clearance.

You’ve been pleased to learn that Kylo is a surprisingly agreeable individual. He’s rough around the edges, he’ll still snap or snarl or threaten you on occasion, but you were able to dig deep enough to find that softer center. He answers your questions with a relative willingness and he seems as fascinated by you as you are of him. He watches you with such intrigue, eyes always roaming over your figure and his body leaning forward to try and see what you’re doing.

You feel like you know a lot of what there is to know about Kylo. You can’t ask him normal ice-breaker questions like “what’s your favorite song?” or “what shows do you like?” because he’s lived in the woods as an animal most of his life; he told you plenty about the different kinds of vegetation and trees he’d come across though. So instead he asks you those questions, listening as you ramble on about things you’ve wanted to get off your chest but haven’t had anyone to do so with. Kylo is the perfect partner for that, with the way he looks so invested in your words and voice. It’s made your cheeks heat up more than a few times.

Every day, you’ve taken another step closer to that glass wall that separates the two of you. It’s like a trust exercise, seeing if Kylo will growl at you again like he did that first day when you got too close. He hasn’t so far, instead just tilting his head in curiosity as he watches you settle in your new spot. Seeing him get closer, become clearer to you, has a voice whispering in the back of your mind about how dangerous he is, telling you to stay back. But then there’s a different voice, a louder voice, that lures you in as it tells you of his beauty and strength, as it tugs on some string that feels like it’s connected to him.

It’s all so strange, and you ponder over it while you eat your dinner, while you shower off the grime of the day, while you get cozy in your bed. Just like all the nights before, you’re still thinking about Kylo even as you fall asleep.

» ☆ «

Nervous energy buzzes beneath your skin when you walk in to work the next morning. If Hux is true to his word, Kylo should be off the chains. You wonder about it as you walk down the familiar halls, as you go down the elevator. There’s a sheen of sweat that coats your palms, so reminiscent of the first time you did all this. You’ve always hated the way anxiety eats at you any time something new happens, even if you’re the reason behind it.

You follow the path you’ve gone down every day for the past two, now almost three, months. You use your badge to open that last door. Your breath gets stuck in your chest as you step into the room.

Feet ahead, behind that glass wall, Kylo is standing. He’s finally standing, his big form stretched to its full height. Even from where you’ve paused at the door, you can see how tall he is. You’re not ashamed of your own height, being just above the usual average, but it feels like nothing compared to him. Just his broad chest moves as he breathes, the rest of him motionless while he stares down at the chains that now lay useless on the floor, like he was only just freed before you got there. You can see the marks that they left on him, the imprints those heavy shackles rubbed into raw skin. It makes you wince.

Kylo finally notices you, head turning to where you still stand frozen in your awe. When your eyes meet, it feels like your world gets flipped on its axis, like everything just shifted in a different direction. There’s an unnamed emotion that wells in your chest and you can see it reflected in his brown irises. There’s something that’s tied you together, something so inexplicable and strong you think if you reach out you can touch it. It makes you feel completed when you’re both in the same room, and it makes you feel like you’re missing a second half of yourself when you aren’t. It’s driven you crazy for the last few months because you’ve never been able to figure it out, never been able to get your hands around it; it’s tortured you day and night and you hated it. But now you feel it so strongly and deeply in your bones that it makes you stumble forward a step, realization hitting you like a truck.

Kylo sees it, he knows. “Come here.” He says, voice deep and rich with command.

You obey, not even giving yourself a choice in the matter as you follow that strong pull that brings you towards him. That rational part of you that would normally shout at you to stay back is silent now as you step closer than you ever have before. You’re slow and cautious as you make your way to that pane of glass, and so is he—until there’s less than a foot of space separating the two of you.

He’s huge. He towers over you, making you crane your neck to be able to look at his face. Every part of his body is so much bigger than yours it’s a little jarring—and insulting. You can finally see him up close, you can finally see all those little freckles and moles dotting his skin like constellations, all the different and pretty shades of brown that swim in his eyes. It’s strange, what you feel in that moment. It’d be more terrifying than anything if you didn’t know that he’s experiencing the same thing, that you’re not alone; you can sense it like it’s your own. The puzzle pieces that are your lives snap together, the knot of the string that ties you to one another is pulled tight and secure. It makes you feel lightheaded, none of it truly making any sense.

Kylo puts his clawed hand against the glass, looking at you with a hint of desperation. You match him, your own hand seeming small in comparison. “You feel it, don’t you? Don’t be afraid, I feel it too.” He whispers to you, shivers running down your spine. He rests his forehead on the divider, shutting his eyes briefly. “Help me. Please.”

Your body quivers, bottom lip trembling from your nerves. It’s all so much. When you look at him, all of him—with the fluffy ears on his head and the slowly wagging tail protruding from his spine, you realize there’s something else inside of you. Something even deeper than a bond that stretches across the different planes of existence. It feels like a second self, like there’s an entirely different version of yourself you’ve never met before because it got buried so far down within you. It’s waking up now, akin to an animal coming out of its hibernation. It feels feral and raw and violent, it feels like him; a kindred spirit from a wilderness you don’t understand. But he does.

“I can help you. I can show you.” Kylo promises, and everything in you wants to believe him. “You have to get me out.”

Your breaths have become short, you heart beating a little faster between your ribs. You know how you look when you meet his gaze again; your unsure, frightened eyes roving back and forth across his face, your brows creased, a downward tug on your lips. “I.. I don’t… I can’t-“ Your words don’t make any sense, you can’t push them out in the right order. You can’t think straight, every thought flying around your brain at a mile a minute so you can’t grab any of them. The sweat on your palm leaves an impression on the glass. You take a step back and it tears you apart, every instinct in you telling to retract the action and go back to him but… but it doesn’t make any sense.

This shouldn’t be real, this shouldn’t be happening. God, this was all just some stupid research assignment. Frustrated tears spring into your eyes, which only serves to upset you more. This isn’t something worth crying over, you don’t cry like this. But it feels like everything you’ve known, the familiarity of your life before this, has been uprooted and ruined. Through your blurred vision you can see how Kylo reacts, the way his ears lower against his hair in remorse, tail tucking close to his legs. He wants nothing more than to comfort you, and you can’t bear the thought.

How else are you supposed to react when it feels like your mind is split between two different people?

You don’t even realize what you’re doing until the door is shutting behind you and you’re hurrying down those sterile hallways, wiping furiously at your eyes.

» ☆ «

You’d gone home early. You’d told the superior on duty that you didn’t feel well, and they’d sent you off with a wave of their hand.

You’d spent the rest of your time walking through your home like a ghost, both there but also not. Your other half was still at the facility, still in that room, staring through that glass panel. You could feel it, incessant and inescapable, even as you tried to block it out by burying yourself beneath a pound of blankets. You knew you’d come to terms with it in a short while, the logical part of your brain always able to come out on top. You just needed to wallow for a little bit, get used to the life-changing revelations and constant stimulation of your mind being stuck in two different places.

You ran over what you experienced again and again in your head, trying to figure out what it was, what it could mean. You’ve never heard of a phenomenon like it before, never seen it documented in research papers. What do you call it when you feel so fundamentally complete when you’re with somebody, like the universe created the two of you specifically for each other? It sounds silly and like a cheesy trope you’d see in a romance novel—definitely not something meant to be in your own life.

It had you researching for the remainder of the night, and it’s what led you to see the message waiting for you in your inbox from Hux.

I want to see you in my office first thing tomorrow morning. There’s a discussion I need to have with you about your project.

- Armitage Hux

That added on to your list of things robbing you of sleep, but you still managed to get out of bed and get dressed with shaking hands the next morning. That’s how you find yourself outside of Hux’s office door. You hesitate before knocking twice.

“Come in.” His voice drawls from the other side. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves as you open the door into the familiar office. Hux says your name as a greeting. “I’m glad to see you got my email. Have a seat, please.”

You follow his instructions, sinking into the plush chair across from his desk and folding your hands tightly in your lap. “I.. don’t know what this is about, sir, but I can assure you everything is going smoothly.”

Hux hums in thought as he shuffles a stack of papers to the side. “Perhaps that’s the problem.” He mutters. Cold eyes meet yours, so jarringly different from the warmth in Kylo’s. “I’ve had something brought to my attention, doctor. One of the nutritionists on this project mentioned something interesting to me, they said that this… creature is able to speak… they even saw you communicating with it. But it’s curious, because I don’t recall reading anything about that in your own reports.”

Your blood runs cold, body stiffening as fear licks through you. “Sir, I- I didn’t-“ You stumble over words that feel too heavy in your mouth. You can’t think of a way you could cover your ass because saying your true reasoning of wanting to protect Kylo definitely wouldn’t do you any favors. You inwardly curse your track record of being horrible under pressure.

That tells him everything he needs to know and your wide eyes track him as he moves to stand. He nods along to his own thoughts. “Withholding information is a terminable offense, doctor, especially to this degree. You were given this assignment with full trust from the Agency that you would present all information in an honest manner, you signed the forms.” He says, clearly enjoying the way your face falls. “It’s been decided that you’ll be let go from First Order Agencies, effective immediately. Your badges will be disabled, and we expect your office to be cleared of anything important by ten AM. You’ll be notified of further procedure from there.”

You find your body jumping out of your chair, hands slamming down on the dark wood of Hux’s desk. He looks you over with an upturned lip and distaste at your actions, but you can’t find that you care in the moment. You don’t even really care that you just lost your job when there’s something else occupying every square inch of your mind. “What are you going to do with Kylo?” You demand.

“Oh, so it has a name too. How cute.” Hux taunts. “Your project will be transferred to another facility first thing tomorrow morning. You can’t provide any further insight on that creature, even if we ignore your misconducts. New tests will be conducted, they’ll make sure to get everything they can out of it. You’ve dug deep enough, I’m sure you know exactly what happens to werewolves.”

That word sends a jolt through you. So he knew. He knew about the gruesome history of what Kylo is, of what runs in his blood. Hux knew that Kylo is no different than himself or you, he knew that and still treated him no better than an animal. It’s like everything you worked for, every document you submitted, is thrown back in your face—it was all meaningless. It also makes you afraid, knowing how little they hesitate to sentence an innocent human to death in the name of a scientific study.

Hux glances at the clock on the wall. “Now you better hurry along, doctor, you only have an hour left to clean out your office.”

You can’t do much else other than obey. You know the decision is final, you know he won’t hesitate to call security on you. Air blows through your nostrils as some way to redirect your anger, wishing you could punch the redhead. You settle with something else instead, something you’ve been wanting to tell him for years. “Go fuck yourself.”

The smile Hux gives you as you leave his office is nothing short of cruel.

» ☆ «

You don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.

You don’t know how you got here—sneaking back into your former workplace at 1:14 AM. It’s like some otherworldly force was compelling you, and you had no choice but to listen to it.

Your hands are shaking violently when you use them to open the front doors. Your badge may have been deactivated, but you had other ways to get into the building. There was a trick an old coworker showed you when you both were locked out of the facility because you both forgot your badges that day; she said the trick was easier than trying to call and waiting for someone to verify you and let you in. There’s a way you can mess up the sensors on the scanners so it believes there’s a valid badge ID, and that’s what you do to slip inside. You’re thanking the gods that it actually worked, and you’re thanking that coworker who’d gotten fired a week later.

The main halls are void of life and dimly lit, with only the occasional fluorescent overhead light still on. Your hurried footsteps sound far too loud in the silence, your heartbeat pounds in your ears. You make it to the elevator without issue and you spend the entire ride clenching and unclenching your hands at your side, blowing out deep breaths with every interval. This is right. This is the right thing to do. It just might get you arrested or killed but that’s… you choose not to think about it.

The elevator reaches its destination with a ding, the doors sliding open into white hallways that have never been so intimidating before. Your body trembles, your mind is screaming at you, but you know this is what needs to be done. Every step you take feels like another step in the right direction, like it eases the weight off your shoulders. You can feel your nerves steeling themselves the further you go, as if someone else entirely—someone far more confident—is taking control of you. Instead of terrified, you just feel angry. Angry at Hux for doing this to you and to Kylo, angry at the Agency, at everyone who forced werewolves to basically go extinct. It’s all fucked up and you wish you could do more, but for now you can settle with saving at least one.

You reach that final door and you use your trick to break the sensors, successfully unlocking it. The door swings open harshly and as you step inside the observation room, you’re met with an unfamiliar sight. There’s two guards standing right against the glass panel; they’re clad in black padded armor, helmets sitting on top of their heads, guns at their hips. Hell, maybe Hux suspected you would try something and that’s what they’re here for. He wasn’t wrong, you’ll give him that.

The guards snap to attention when you enter. You can see Kylo behind them, ears perked in interest and staring directly at you. You feel something travel across that invisible thread between you, and it feels so right. It gives you the confidence you need. “Excuse me, you’re not authorized to be in here.” One of the guards says roughly, moving to take a step closer to you. “You need to leave now or I’ll have to-“

You’re lunging before you can even fully comprehend what you’re doing. Your limbs don’t feel like your own, it’s like you’re watching from outside of your own body, kicked from the pilots chair. There’s a strength you don’t recognize that you use to grab on to the guard, shoving him back and overpowering him with an ease that shouldn’t be allowed for someone like you. You don’t even know how to describe it, you just feel… feral, angry and vicious. If you could see yourself you’d see your pupils thinned to slits like an animal. The guard chokes when you grip his neck, swinging him and slamming his head repeatedly into the glass pane. He slumps to the ground not a second later.

The element of surprise had greatly assisted you, but now that it’s gone, you’re left vulnerable. That strength that had taken over you has fizzled out, slinking away into the dark recesses of yourself for you to have to try and find again. But you can’t, because the other guard is on you now. He’s bigger than the first, taller and stockier, muscle cording through his arms. You feel those muscles when he uses them to connect a fist with your face and pin you against the wall, his forearm firm on your neck. Fuck.

He snarls at you, pressing in harder. You try to claw at his arm, you try to kick your legs, but it doesn’t make him move an inch. He’s like a brick wall and you have no way of breaking it. You can feel your chest constrict as you’re robbed of air, your lungs struggling to draw breath while your ears begin to ring. You punch and punch and punch again—nothing works. Your vision swims. You feel the dull throb in your knuckles from the reinforced padded armor that makes the guard immune to your adrenaline-fueled attacks. Your eyes lock onto that pistol he has on his belt, it’s your best bet if you could just reach around him and grab it. Your head feels like it’s about to pop, you feel blood begin to dribble from your nose and you’re able to taste it as it drips across your lips. The gun, the gun, the gun- There’s a steady thudding noise, you don’t know where it’s coming from. It might be coming from inside your own head, you don’t know. You can barely think, your brain practically shutting itself down. Your fingers just barely graze the handle but it’s not enough, shit, it’s not enough. Your eyes roll and your body goes limp.

Next thing you know, there’s a deep voice calling your name and a warm hand on your cheek. You take a gasping breath, sputtering around the pain in your throat as your eyes clear and the ringing in your ears finally stops. You see Kylo above you, massive body hunched so he can meet your gaze, worry etching his features. That’s when you notice that there’s blood on his hands, the lights of the facility are flashing red, the alarm is blaring, and the guard who had you pinned is laying decapitated to your left. Looking behind Kylo, you’re startled to see that the glass wall is in pieces. He fucking shattered it—that’s what that thudding sound was. Him hitting the glass again and again in time with your own punches to the guard.

You give yourself only a second to take everything in. Kylo’s actually in front of you. He’s really here, and he’s touching you. It sends a shiver down your spine, sparks tingling beneath your skin. There’s an excited buzzing in the back of your mind, but you don’t have time to linger on those feelings, on him. The alarms are going off and you know it’s only a matter of time before there’s more people down here to kill you both. Even though it feels wrong, you push Kylo off of you so that you can stand. You stumble as your head spins, still trying to recover from getting choked of all your oxygen, and you have to wave Kylo off again as he tries to help you.

You attempt to ignore the blood and gore splattered across the white floors as you step carefully around it to pluck the pistol off the guard. Nausea rolls in your stomach when you accidentally glance at his torn neck, knowing it’s Kylo’s claws that did the damage. You take one of the spare bullet canisters, tucking that and the gun into your belt. Kylo looks tense, muscles bunched beneath his skin and his tail puffed up a size larger than usual. His ears keep swiveling forwards and back, moving to the sounds of the alarm screaming overhead—his ears are probably far more sensitive than your own. You know that it’s blaring through the entire facility, as are the flashing red lights. Everybody will know that there was a security breach.

“Follow me. We can get out through this level.” You practically yell over the alarm. He nods, eager to follow your lead and get out of this prison.

You briefly check your surroundings when you open the door. All clear. You both dart out and you don’t have to worry about Kylo keeping up, he’s right at your heels. He’d run right by you if he didn’t need you to show him the way. You hurry down the halls, careful not to slip as you round sharp corners and burst through doors. You’re scared, yes, but you feel alive. Energy courses through your body like it would a live wire, spurring you forward with Kylo now with you at last. It feels freeing and like everything is finally coming together, even as you’re effectively leaving your entire old life behind.

You come upon a final set of heavy-duty double doors that lead into a tunnel for transports to drive through. It’s what they used to get Kylo in here in the first place. You have to use the strength of your shoulder and a little extra push from Kylo to be able to shove the door open. The tunnel that you run into is dark, becoming nearly pitch black when the lights periodically flicker out with the alarms. You squint against the red lighting, trying to see what’s ahead.

There’s angry shouts, there’s the sound of multiple sets of footsteps, and you know that there’s guards waiting for you. The number of them is nothing to scoff at, many of them being deployed after the alarm started going off. They congregate at the exits so that nothing gets out, or so that they can kill whatever tries. It won’t be easy—or so you think.

Before you have a chance to draw your new gun, Kylo rushes ahead of you faster than you can blink. He’s finally out of his cage, he’s finally free, and he’s relishing in it. He wants to make sure these people know he will never go back. He moves so quick that the guards don’t even get the opportunity to fire off bullets and you merely watch the way his muscles move, his hands slashing with ferocity and a violent grace. The lights flash and when they come back on, there’s a body on the floor.

Flash. Another. Flash. Two more.

The pattern continues until Kylo is the only one left standing. His body heaves, the blood shines on him. He looks terrifying like that, massive form doused in red and shadow, towering over all these dead bodies that he’s ripped through with his own teeth and claws, eyes wild. You run right to him, a sense of awe filling you. He’s definitely not something to be messed with, and you love it. You realize how big of a fool Hux was for thinking he could contain Kylo. His hand is slick with blood when you take it, but it only makes you tighten your grip.

You keep running, pushing past the stench of iron that assaults your senses. The tunnel slopes up and up and up and you follow the path, the alarm steadily getting quieter the further you get. The end of the tunnel gets closer and closer, until you stop at the garage doors. You pause there, puffing breath in and out of your mouth, your body throbbing with the adrenaline. You spare a glance at Kylo, your beautiful monster covered in the blood his captors, and you can feel that this is right where you’re supposed to be. You hit the hatch release button.

The garage door groans as it scrapes on metallic hinges, slowly opening until there’s a wide enough gap for the both of you to slip under it. Fresh, cold night air hits you in the face and you gladly inhale it, washing the smell of blood out of your system. You look to Kylo again, as if making sure he’s still there, and the expression on his face is something you’ll remember for a long time. His eyes are wide, face frozen in what could only be described as shock. You have to remind yourself that he’s been stuck down in the depths of a government facility for the past nearly three months with only white walls to keep him company. You can’t even begin to imagine what he’s feeling.

You have to interrupt though, knowing every second right now is vital. “Come on, my car is just around the corner.”

You begin to walk, but he doesn’t follow. He’s staring into the woods that surround the building, the tip of his tail twitching as he takes a small step forward. He wants nothing more than to go in there, to return to his wolf form and run and run and run. It’s odd that you can feel it too, that primal longing calling you to the wilderness, like there’s something just like him inside of you banging against its cage to get out. You shove it down, you force it back because you really cannot deal with that at the moment. You know you’d just get caught again if you go into those woods. “Kylo,” you hiss and grab his arm, “we need to go.”

Your touch snaps him out of his trance, bringing him back to you. He follows you now around the outer edges of the facility, ever so faintly being able to hear the alarm going off inside. You make it to the parking lot and your less-than-stellar Nissan Sentra, the thing a bit old but it’s always been reliable. You rip open the passenger side door, motioning for Kylo to get in. He hesitates, clearly unnerved by the vehicle, so you resort to shoving him in. He hunches in the front seat, obviously not accustomed to the small space that he doesn’t really fit inside of. You run to the driver’s side, throwing yourself into your seat and shoving the keys in the ignition.

As your car roars to life and you whip out of the parking lot, the facility quickly getting smaller behind you and Kylo sitting next to you, you make the decision that you’re never going to look back.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*

Tags (comment if you’d like to be tagged next time!); @coldheartedmar @hazydespair @bullet-clubs-bitch @paristheonewhoreads

⇦ Part 2

#they’re finally out of that cursed facility let’s go guys #falls to the floor #THIS TOOK SO LONG AHHHHH #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader #kylo ren fanfic #kylo ren #kylo #kylo ren x reader #kylo fanfic #kylo x reader #kylo x you #werewolf kylo ren #werewolf au #werewolf fanfic

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