#the deucalion x reader

[reveluving]

a little more love ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: when two of the most fearsome werewolves do whatever they can to convince their beloved to cancel dinner night with the pups.

warnings: loads of kisses, hugs and but no s~mut. not yet, at least (still, minors DNI!), very cheesy ngl; peter & deuc just really love their vampire wifey <3

a/n: omg a debut?? s/o to @fanficimagery​; their Peter fics + others are the reasons why I wrote this—awakening another wild side of of mine to the point of no return (affectionately) 😭 I got another one in the making tho, trust! love y’all and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading the series? check out the m.list!

'Though Deuc and Peter chimed in once in a while, the pack could tell they were giving you most of the spotlight.' ;

The sound of blackbirds chirping outside your window was enough to wake you up from your slumber. You stirred but could barely move with the arm around you and pulling you close. Their chest rose and fell at a pace so relaxing, so comforting, it could've lulled you back to sleep right away.

"Did you sleep well?" You shivered at the voice, deep and barely awake, forcing you to crack one eye open. You craned your neck, welcoming the very sight of the man holding you dearly. You hummed, eliciting a chuckle out of him as you nuzzled into him.

"You're so comfy." You murmured, the silky sheets against your skin would've been more than enough to chain you to bed for another hour or two.

Too bad you had other plans.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" You blinked, noticing the hues ranging from orange to pink coming from the window, an indication that sunset was nearing faster than you had anticipated.

"You looked so peaceful." Deuc responded casually as if you hadn't promised the pack dinner night, which was happening in two hours.

"I didn't even hear the alarm." You blindly took your phone on the nightstand, finding it impossible for you to sleep through one in the first place.

But, Deuc's sudden lack of response told you everything you needed to know.

So, you placed your phone away before turning to him.

"Deuc," He hummed, "Did you have anything to do with this?"

"No?"

"Deuc!"

He barely opened his eyes to look at you before huffing out a 'yes'.

"Can't we just order takeout?"

"Even they can do that from their own home," You grinned, poking his cheek, "And you know no one delivers to this side of the road past seven."

"Then we could always just order now and ask one of them to pick it up later," He was hell-bent on making you stay, the offer especially enticing when he pulled the covers over you with him, "Or better yet, ask him to pick it up and make himself useful for once."

You snorted, only to jump when fingers lightly traced your spine.

"Hey," You admonished lightly, "Behave."

"You can't expect a man to behave when he has such beauty in his arms." He slipped his hand under the blanket, "Come on, all you have to do is cancel it, and we'll make sure to take such good care of you."

You whined, squirming in his arms as though you were fighting your inner demons before sitting up, but not before covering your bare chest with the blanket.

"Nice try, handsome, but I’m not falling for your tricks." You pointed directly at his nose, only to sputter when he countered your sudden determination by nipping the tip of your index finger.

"Angel, you always do," Touché, "The pups can fend for themselves for another day, can't they?"

"Deuc," You sighed shaking your head in amusement; you could never get mad at him. You turned your head a little, kissing his palm before caressing his cheek with your free hand, "I haven't seen them for over a week, God knows whether or not they've taken care of themselves since. It's only for a couple of hours, I promise."

Deuc narrowed his eyes at you, trying not to give in to your puppy eyes.

But he knew better.

He let his head fall to the pillow, letting out a dramatic sigh.

"Alright, alright," You perked up, only to be caught off guard when he wrapped his arms around you. He pulled you down to him for a heated kiss, taking your breath away as his tongue lightly ran across the tip of your fangs. Your whimpers only motivated him to take back his own words and never let you leave the bed, but he loved you too much to say no.

He pulled away, satisfied with the way you looked back at him with wide eyes.

"You didn't think I'd expect some sort of return if I'm going to have to keep my hands to myself for a few hours?"

Puffing up your cheeks in embarrassment, you were barely able to maintain eye contact as intense as his before giving him a quick peck at the lips.

"Angel," He chuckled, "If that's the kind of payment you're planning to give, I'd expect at least a couple more."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Very much," He responded nonchalantly as though he wasn't practically basking in your reactions, "In fact, I could wake up to this every day."

There was no point arguing with this man, not especially when you had dinner to whip up in under two hours. So, you took a deep breath, lowering yourself for a proper kiss. Deuc was eager, that much was clear as he chased after your lips, keeping you still with one hand on the back of your head.

He shivered as you lightly ran your nails down his chest, slowly pulling away before letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

"Much better."

It had taken Deuc exactly a good half an hour to get his fill of you before begrudgingly letting you go to take a shower, promising to help you out right after.

You, on the other hand, have been at it in the kitchen for an hour, seasoning your stroganoff before moving on with the dessert.

Just then, you froze, feeling a pair of eyes from the living room watching your every move. You slowly placed the bowl of unwhipped cream onto the counter, hoping to look as neutral as possible. The presence, however, had seen right through you, because as soon as you faced the entrance to the foyer, you felt their warm breath against your neck before they spun you around. You yelped, feeling yourself fall backwards despite their hands securely holding onto your hips.

Your hands shot up to their back, one around his neck and the other gripping the back of their shirt. Had it been anyone else, other than Deuc, you would've instinctively torn their throat out even before they could even put their hands on you.

But, this was Peter you were talking about.

"What's cookin', good lookin'?"

‘You've got to be kidding me.’

"Jesus, Hale," He was clearly proud of himself, the debonair smile on his face especially growing when you released the grip on his shirt in favour of covering a part of your face, thoroughly embarrassed, "That is by far the worst line I've ever heard, coming from you."

"Oh, I know," He shrugged, leaning in closer, "But it's worth seeing that pretty face of yours scrunch up like that."

He pressed his lips against yours before you could even respond with a snarky remark, pulling away just as fast in favour of the adorable stupefied look you always had each time he or Deuc had taken you by surprise.

"But it does smell good in here." He brought up back up from the dip before taking a good whiff of your homemade gravy in the pot.

"Only the best for the best," You mused, hearing him purr in agreement for a moment before adding, "Oh, and for you too, I guess."

He was speechless, to say the least. At least for a while.

"Why, you," He didn't even give you the time to turn away before he attacked your neck and collarbone with wet kisses, the exaggerated sounds of his smooches growing louder the more you cried out to him to stop.

He did, eventually, but he made sure he gave you enough to sag in his arms, resting against him for a moment as he mumbled against your cold skin.

"Would be nice if we had the night to ourselves." Oh. You covered your face yet again, now with both of your hands.

"Not you too," You felt the chuckle vibrating through him, "You and Deuc planned this, didn't you?"

"Depends," He drawled, clearly feigning ignorance, "Is it working?"

Fuck yeah, it is.

"You're gonna have to try harder than that."

Big mistake.

Your mouth gaped open wide as though you had surprised yourself, knowing he had taken your statement as a challenge when he pursed his lips.

"Challenge accepted."

You squeaked as he pulled you to his chest, one of his hands remained on your hips while raising the other that he intertwined with yours. You were sure his eyes had dilated, enjoying the way you bashfully look up at him through your lashes, gasping as soon as his hand crept up past the hem of your shirt.

"Peter," You giggled nervously, "Where is that hand going?"

He hummed.

"Places."

Just then, he switched directions, sliding further down before moving under the waistband of your shorts.

"Places where I'd want to touch," Down, "To kiss," Up, "To lick," Down, "To nibble on."

Each time his hands move, no matter where they ended up, all you could do was shiver. He dipped his head, nibbling on your earlobe.

"If and only if my angel says so."

He was seeking your permission—just like Deuc did.

"I want to," Oh? "But later, okay?" Oh. You tried not to giggle as he deflated from your answer, "Especially since the two of you haven't made it any easier for me to say no today."

Not that you'd ever deny these two whatsoever.

"Please?" You cupped his face, thinking through your next words before mumbling, "Just hold on for a few hours and I'm all yours and Deuc's."

His eyes dilated from the mere promise, holding onto both of your hands and pulling you in to capture your lips with his. It was as deep and passionate as the one you had with Deuc, your legs nearly buckled if it wasn't for his quick reflex.

"Pretty girl, you'll be the death of me."

The audacity.

"Oh, like you're any better," You rolled your eyes playfully, "Now, you either help me with the potatoes or take these plates and march out to the dining room."

He opted for the potatoes, occasionally leaving kisses on your shoulders and nearly causing you to burn the caramel sauce that you were making to pair with your homemade ice cream.

Deuc came down to the kitchen a little while later, only to shoot a glare at Peter for putting him on dishes duty. You saw the way Peter smirked as Deuc stalked out, dropping his expression to a barely innocent kind when he noticed you watching him.

"A grump, let me tell you," Peter commented, not bothering to lower his voice and earning himself a growl from the other room. You silently giggled before pushing him lightly.

Quarter past seven, and you walked out to serve the big pot of stroganoff and a whole bunch of sides in the dining room, where Deuc had just finished wiping the last cutlery. As soon as he did, he wrapped one arm around you, resting his head against your tummy. You could tell he was a little miffed over the petty arrangement, so you leaned in and kissed the crown of his head a couple of times, drawing a soft laugh from him.

No doubt Peter had seen you trying to cheer Deuc up and would probably cage you in his arms until you do the same for him.

A couple of hugs and hundreds more kisses later, the pack finally arrived, their exhaustion from surviving the week palpable as they greeted you with hugs or the Hale's exchanging meaningful pleasantries with you.

Deuc and Peter watched as your face continued to light up, from scooping a generous portion of noodles and stroganoff to listening to each and every one of them about the rough week they all had. Though Deuc and Peter chimed in once in a while, the pack could tell they were giving you most of the spotlight. This dinner was your idea, after all, treating the pack with the endless amount of love you had to offer. They only helped you out, though they'd gladly accept your gratitude at any given moment.

You were not blind to the looks they gave you either, so soft, even you didn't think they were capable of such emotion. You've either looked away or rushed out to the kitchen to 'top up the necessary' as a poor excuse to shy away from their gazes.

Soon, things began to calm down, and you shooed the pack to the living room, but not before being bombarded by offers to do the dishes. You gave in, eventually, and as soon as the final plate was washed, you pointed to the living room, much to everyone’s amusement.

Besides Deuc and Peter, who were helping you with the leftovers, everyone else started doing their own thing in the meantime; Scott, Stiles and Lydia were already lying on your rug, Malia and Kira were looking at your bookshelf, ranging from interesting novels with odd titles to the fishbowl of Marimo moss balls, because you wanted a ‘pet’ that ‘understood you best’.

None of the pack understood you till this day, not until Kira pointed out that Marimo moss balls survived best in low light, and you heard the rest of the pack answer with a collective ‘ooh’.

Derek, just like his cousin, had been doing the same, but from the comforts of the couch he was lounging on instead. Though he was the only one on his own, he seemed to be at peace, the deep wrinkles usually etched in between his eyebrows nowhere to be seen as dinner finally caught up to him. All in all, everyone was looking and feeling much better when they first arrived, but you couldn’t blame them. They were carrying responsibilities that were thrice as heavy as an average teenager.

Basically, you were glad to see them finally taking a load off.

The relief you were practically giving off to both Peter and Deuc was endearing, seeing your unfaltering smile despite the way your sensitive nose scrunched up a couple of times as you scooped the gravy into a container.

“You were right, angel,” Deuc was the first to speak up since the comfortable silence, “This dinner night was worth it.”

“Really?” The shine in your eyes was enough of a solid answer, “What changed?”

“That,” You tilted your head, “That pretty smile of yours.”

You mustered up a nervous smile, peeping out a small ‘oh’ before continuing with the leftovers.

At least, you tried to.

“No, no,” Peter came up behind you, intertwining his fingers with yours, “What did we say about hiding your smile?”

You peered up at Deuc, who nodded you encouragingly.

“That it only encourages you two to make me smile even more.” You whispered just enough for them to hear, trying your hardest to look elsewhere as they praised you with a simultaneous ‘atta girl’. Peter raised your laced hands, kissing the back of yours while Deuc took the other and did the same.

And just to spite you in the best way possible, they kissed either of your cheek, Deuc taking your left whereas Peter on your right.

But before they could melt you further, you heard an ‘oop’, followed by Lydia’s ‘Stiles!’ before she dragged him off. The poor boy had accidentally seen the tooth-rotting display at its peak, especially between his former nemeses and his godmother. It didn’t bother them in the slightest though. They turned to you, only to see your wide-eyed mortification. You could’ve really traumatized him or anyone else for that matter, had Stiles’ interruption not happened, and you had no doubt these two could care less in favour of devouring you in the kitchen.

Shameless.

But you loved them anyway.

That still didn’t stop you from glaring at the two, at least you tried to, losing your composure when they both ganged up on you with their knowing smirk—a telltale that they haven’t forgotten about your promise.

They eventually put you out of your misery, but their lingering touches had only been amped up to the max, letting you know that they were growing impatient to have you.

And the second the pack leaves, boy, were you in for the night.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

°˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° just an introductory tag! @christinasyellowflowers @clockworkballerina @marianne-zemo @spicymau-5

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Deucalion Would Include:

Ah, as a Yandere, Deucalion is an embodiment of possessiveness and obsession. Picture this: He's calculated, manipulative, and charming, using his charismatic aura to ensnare the hearts of his victims. But beneath that charming exterior lies an intense, almost manic need for control. When he sets his sights on someone, he'll do anything to keep them close, even going so far as to eliminate anyone who poses a threat. He views love as a game, where he's always the master.

There's so much more to explore. Beyond the obsession and possessiveness, he's a master of mind games. He thrives on controlling every aspect of your life, carefully crafting scenarios where he can maintain his dominance. He's also fiercely protective, viewing his loved one as a precious possession to be guarded at all costs. But don't let his charm fool you; beneath it all, his love is tinged with cruelty and a hint of danger.

Oh, and when he falls for someone, it's not just your typical romance-novel level of devotion. We’re talking about an all-consuming obsession. He'll watch your every move, learn every little detail about you, and make sure you're constantly reminded that you belong to him, whether you like it or not. He'll use his power and influence to isolate you from others, believing that having you completely dependent on him will ensure your loyalty. He'll make grand gestures of affection, showering you with gifts and compliments, yet beneath it all, his possessiveness knows no bounds.

Picture his voice: a smooth, velvety purr that lulls you into a false sense of security. His words, carefully chosen and delivered, are like a symphony crafted to captivate your mind. And then there are his eyes—oh, those hazel eyes, capable of burning with an intensity that makes you feel like the only person in the world, yet simultaneously sending shivers down your spine as you wonder just how far he'd go to keep you his.

Deucalion's possessiveness takes form in various ways. He could constantly need to know where you are and demand your full attention at all times. He might even go as far as tracking your phone or monitoring your social media. He could also be extremely jealous and suspicious, accusing you of flirting or cheating without any evidence. Furthermore, he might become overly protective and try to control who you interact with, limiting your time with friends and family as he wants you all to himself. He may even resort to isolating you from the world entirely.

In Deucalion's quest for absolute control, he might become extremely obsessive, constantly bombarding you with gifts, compliments, and attention. He may constantly praise you and make you feel like you're the only person who truly matters to him. However, underneath this facade, he may be extremely manipulative, using guilt or threats to ensure you do what he wants. He might even use affection and sweetness as a tool to ensure your loyalty and obedience. While he showers you with love one moment, he could switch to being cold and distant the next, leaving you always guessing.

He could also become physically possessive, constantly wanting to touch you and be near you. He might insist on public displays of affection and become hostile towards anyone whom he perceives as a threat to your relationship. In more extreme cases, he might become controlling and demanding, wanting to dictate your every decision, from what you wear to what you eat. He might impose heavy restrictions on your daily life, making it difficult for you to live independently.

Deucalion's jealousy is intense and all-consuming. He believes you belong to him, and the thought of you being with someone else drives him insane. He may constantly question you, asking where you were, who you were with, and what you were doing. Even the smallest interaction with another person can trigger his jealousy, leading to accusations, arguments, and sometimes even physical confrontations.

When it comes to giving reassurance, Deucalion can be intense and over the top. He could shower you with compliments, declarations of love, and overly affectionate gestures, making you feel smothered. However, his reassurance often comes with a hint of manipulation. He may use guilt or emotional blackmail, saying things like, "If you really love me, you'd do this for me" or "I can't bear living without you, please just do this one thing for me."

Deucalion uses rewards as a manipulative tactic to keep you compliant. He might offer gifts, compliments, or other rewards when you do as he says, reinforcing your dependence on him. On the contrary, he might withhold those rewards when you don't comply, leaving you feeling uncertain and anxious about his approval. This form of intermittent reinforcement (where rewards are given unpredictably) creates a strong psychological attachment, making you crave his praise and seek his approval even more. He may also withhold affection or intimacy, using it as a reward for your obedience.

Deucalion uses punishments to maintain control and assert his authority. He may use physical, emotional, or psychological punishments, depending on the situation. He could use threats, intimidation, or even act violently when he feels his control is threatened. He might also use emotional manipulation tactics like the silent treatment, gaslighting, or emotional blackmail to punish you for disobeying him or questioning his authority. In rare cases, he might also resort to extreme measures like stalking, surveillance, or isolating you from friends and family as a form of punishment.

In front of others, Deucalion might display a charming and charismatic persona. He can be witty, charming, and manipulative, using his quick intellect and persuasiveness to charm everyone around him. However, beneath this facade, he always has an ulterior motive. He's constantly studying people, looking for weaknesses he can exploit and connections he can use to his advantage. He may put on a front of concern or kindness, offering help or advice to those he sees as potential assets, all the while secretly plotting how he can manipulate them to his advantage.

Fights between Deucalion and his partner would be intensely emotional and fraught with manipulation. When arguing, Deucalion would likely dig deep and use manipulative tactics to make you feel guilty or wrong, often making himself the victim and deflecting blame. He might use past grievances or flaws against you, trying to guilt trip you or make you feel like you're the reason for the argument. He might also use threats, intimidation, or emotional blackmail to ensure that you apologize or back down. He wouldn't want to risk losing control, so he'd do whatever it takes to keep it.

Deucalion's affection is manipulative and possessive. He'd shower you with compliments and gifts, constantly making you feel special and wanted. But beneath the surface, his affection would be fueled by a need for control. He'd frequently check in on his partner, wanting to know where you were and who you were with, all in the guise of being caring. He might also use affection as a tool to manipulate his partner, guilt-tripping you or using the threat of withdrawing affection if you don't comply with his demands.

Deucalion's idea of a date would be more about asserting control and displaying his wealth and power to you. He'd likely choose expensive and extravagant locations, all to impress you and make himself look good. However, he'd also use these dates as an opportunity to keep tabs on you, asking questions or making comments that reveal his need to control and possess. He also uses these dates to manipulate you, making you feel obligated to reciprocate his affections due to the expensive date or his constant praise.

Deucalion would absolutely use you to do his dirty work. He'd manipulate you into doing tasks or favors for him that would benefit him directly. He might use guilt trips, threats, or promises of rewards to get you to do his bidding. He'd likely try to frame it as something that would benefit both of you, while in reality, it would only benefit him. He'd also likely use this as another opportunity to gain more control over you, making you feel like you owe him something in return for your obedience.

Deucalion would definitely have a shrine dedicated to you, filled with objects and trinkets that remind him of you. It would likely be a mix of genuine feelings and a need to keep tabs on you. He'd likely include things like gifts you've given him, photos of you together, or even items that belonged to you. He'd use this shrine as a way to feel close to you when you're not around, but also as a way to control and possess you, using the shrine as a reminder of his power over you.

Deucalion's feelings towards marriage would likely revolve around control and possessiveness. He'd desire a commitment from his partner that binds them to him, ensuring they can never leave. Marriage would also provide him with legitimacy and a public way to declare his ownership over his partner. He'd want a big, extravagant wedding filled with people he could impress and show off to. However, beneath the surface, his motivation would be to keep his partner under his thumb, ensuring their compliance and submission to his will.

Deucalion's desire for children stems from a need for control and continuation of his line. He'd see the children as extensions of himself, and he'd want to mold them in his image. He'd likely want a lot of influence over their upbringing, from their education to their beliefs. He may even use the children as a way to manipulate or control you further, using them to keep you compliant. Deucalion might also see the children as a way to perpetuate his legacy or maintain his power and status, which would further solidify his hold on you and the family.

If you were unable to have or didn't want children, Deucalion would be extremely frustrated and disappointed. He'd likely try to manipulate you into reconsidering, using guilt trips or threats to try and get you to change your mind. If you remained firm in your decision, Deucalion might become resentful and bitter, feeling like you had denied him something he desired. He might also try to find alternative ways to secure his lineage, perhaps by adopting or looking for a surrogate mother to carry their child.

"You are my obsession, my drug, my addiction. I can't go a moment without thinking about you, without needing you by my side. I worship you, adore you, and idolize you. You are the center of my universe. My sole purpose in life is to make you happy. You are my everything, my entire world, and my existence revolves around you."

Forced submission - He gets off on seeing someone completely under his control, your bodies at his mercy. The knowledge that you can't resist him, that you want nothing more than to please him, is incredibly arousing.

Bondage - Tying someone up, rendering you helpless, and then using your body however I please. The helplessness and vulnerability only serve to enhance his own pleasure.

Teasing - Playing hard to get, denying you pleasure until you beg and plead for it. The longer you wait, the sweeter the release.

Forced orgasm - The idea of forcing a partner to cum repeatedly until your crying, denying you relief until you're completely spent, is a major turn-on for him.

Hair pulling - Tugging on your hair during sex, whether it's to pull your head back for deeper access or to simply exert dominance, is incredibly arousing for him.

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Show Me How ❞

Deucalion x werewolf!male!reader | nsfw, smut, the beginnings are a bit more horror-themed (body horror for r! turning into a werewolf) | sub. bttm. reader (AMAB) | wc: 6k | not proofread

warnings: r! gets a panic attack, short description of vomiting, piquerism, handjobs, impact play, s*xual rewards, s*xual punishments, degradation, overstimulation, edging

req: Just hear me out on Deucalion the man's a whole dilf like cmon okay okay like y/n (amab pls) is a new werewolf like he just recently got bitten, and he was a complete dumbass, like he was freaked out the whole time n Deucalion ended up finding him in some random cave covered in blood (not his own though) he decided to help him out with learning how to control things and stuff being all strict and stuff, Deucalion would give him like rewards when he does things right, like maybe a good hand job or something n when he would mess up he would like punish him like omg what if he hits him with his cane or sum or the little blade he has on the end of it oh and like a bit of degrading maybe or overstim or edging.

part 2

A freshly turned wolf was a beast not many could take down. Many hunters, from mighty families such as the Argents, had lost a barrage of their kin to these wild beasts.

Fuelled with the Moon’s anguish and shame; these ' puppies ' cut down any who dares assault their senses with their scent or heartbeat. That being said, Deucalion wasn't surprised when news of a group of hunters decimated by a newly turned wolf reached his ears. The hunters weren't even a worthy threat to him, he had half a mind to let Ennis deal with it with as much glee as he wished. He was, however, intrigued at the prowess and potential this rogue wolf showed. Kali's claws ticked against the cracked linoleum and dirt floor whilst Ennis' nose took a lungful of the scent of fear and desperation. "He was alone, completely alone," Ennis sounded impressed.

"These hunters were young, cocky," Kali retorts with no natural edge in her voice.

"It isn't much to marvel at". Deucalion huffs through his nose and taps his cane. He emerges from the shadows of the abandoned warehouse.

"Kali, don't be so critical, it's not every day you turn into a werewolf". He tilts his head as the metallic tang of blood further invades his nostrils.

Deucalion could taste the viscous liquid in his mouth.

"He took out 14 trained hunters. Young or not, it's not often a puppy so vicious is placed on our laps. There is potential," Deucalion's nose points to the still-hot-edged hole in the corrugated tin wall. Blood stained the razor edges with pieces of what used to be a sweater danced listlessly in the night breeze. "Let's give the poor boy our thanks," Deucalion says. Ennis grins with his bottom canine and pokes his upper lip. Kali makes her way out from the clawed-out hole-in-the-wall and towards the forest it frames. A growl rumbles in Ennis' throat but as quick as it came it was gone and he bounds towards the woods as well.

Deucalion wraps his hands around the top of his cane, shoulders adjusting themselves as he feels the bones in his face shift to make way for a more monstrous visage. That was of less importance, the way his neck thickens with muscles was what he had aimed for.

The beast of an alpha unhinges his jaw and throws his head back to release a bloodcurdling song and his generals turn it into a symphony of horror.

The wood creatures scurry. Those without wings find themselves burrowing into the ground or hiding in the hollows of trees. One, however, stayed frozen in his stone fortress.

With your arms wrapped tightly around your legs and your head between your knees, you stayed rigid despite the howling that reaches your pointed ears. Your mouth was agape and drool was dripping down but your fangs were uncomfortably piercing your upper lips every time you attempted to close them.

It was a pathetic sight but no one was here to see your shame except for that dead coyote that lay inches away from your feet and — Oh, god, you were going to throw up.

The sound continues to echo and you clasp your hands over your ears. Your claws dig into your scalp as you squeeze your eyes tightly. Somewhere inside of you, something thrashes violently at the rope you call self-restraint.

It’s compelled to follow the call. It knows there’s safety in numbers but it's so primal you feel as though it’s something akin to a caveman more than anything poetic.

A moronic impulse just to survive. To find more like you but that was just the blood lust talking to you, of that you were certain.

You were a danger to people. You could never rejoin society. You were a monster.

‘They deserved it,’ something growls into your ear. You swear you can feel its breath and the stench of gore and blood that burns your cheek. The claws dig deeper into your head as your heartbeat quickens.

‘They wanted to hurt us, kill us, we returned the favour’. You think you're ultimately losing it at this point. Perhaps in some feeble attempt to grasp this batshit insane scenario of you gaining some supernatural ability to kill 14 people — and a coyote — your brain has fragmented to cope.

Beads of red soak your hair and traverse the slopes and planes of your head to your neck. It further soaks your ripped sweater, and the weight of it makes your skin crawl. The tip of your curved claws floats just inches from your skull. Then, bile rises to your throat and your body swings forward in a tumultuous motion. Knees banging onto the floor and palms ripping open on the jagged earth; your mouth burns as lunch reintroduces itself.

Your chin was already soaked from saliva and hastily wiped away gore so, at this point, the coyote was looking better than you and it was mauled to death. The howling reaches your ears again. Your head hangs, eyes burning viciously as the beast within you digs its teeth into your shoulder. Its mouth fills with blood as it laughs. It's a sickening sound that muffles your hearing. It was far too proud to admit it's drowning in your blood as it cackled. A reflection of you, yes? That's Kali's initial thoughts when she finds you. Too lost in your own world to even notice her shadow as it casts over you. This was the "beast" that ripped apart those hunters? On his hands and knees with his own vomit inches away. She wasn't convinced. Then, a shadow consumes hers. She turns her shoulders away and her ruby eyes veil themselves as Deucalion passes her. Ennis is further away from the mouth of the cave, senses sharpening to ensure that they are uninterrupted. Deucalion's shoes come into your peripheral. Your eyes zero in on the scratches on the leather, the creases where he'd bend them. They smell worn but not old enough to indicate he was someone who took care of his things so meticulously. He wasn't careless or crass though he was no gentleman either. The tip of his cane is capped with red. The plastic itches your skin as it trails up the bulging veins of your neck. The sting of metal causes your nose to twitch but the man before you, his presence is so heavy your thighs give out.

A sense of mirth fills him as you settle on your calves, head so obediently balancing on his cane as if entranced by the sight of him. The truth is, it's his scent that makes your heart calm. His and the other two Alphas but mostly his. That hindbrain personality of yours wants nothing more than to show off your stomach.

It knows the safety these alphas can provide and the dangers if they choose to reject you. "Rough night?" He jests with no expectations of laughter. Deucalion's cane meets the ground and your head lolls forward. "I must say, you don’t look like someone who's capable of such carnage. A lot to, stomach in?”

Your brows furrow and you lick your lips for a moment to open your mouth but freeze as you realise your teeth are no longer so sharp it cuts your tongue or gums. Running your tongue over your teeth, however, elicits a more visceral disgust as you find bits of fur and blood so no answer comes from you.

The Alpha — how you know his title is a mystery to yourself — tilts his head in the direction of the coyote.

“Such brutality. Surely, it didn’t mean to offend you,” Kali fails to suppress the tugs of a smile. She’s quite an intimidating figure as she stands at the mouth of the cave with her red eyes and dark hair.

“. . .It. . .” Deucalion faces you, silent.

A gulp, a breath, then an answer from your dyed lips: “It growled. . .at me”.

There’s a beat of silence, the forest does not extend its courtesy to fill it with ambience. Deucalion breathes sharply through his nose, a huff of laughter that makes Kali’s unimpressed gaze turn indignant.

“It challenged you and you rose to the occasion.”

You would argue it was just scared of a monster trying to crawl into its cave but this man flashes his teeth in a smile and the words die in your throat.

“Deucalion,” Kali whispers urgently.

“He’s an Omega. A Rouge — He didn’t raise to any occasion,” Deucalion squares his shoulders and the way the black shirt hugs him calls for your attention.

His shoulders are broad, chest firm and studiously presented with his perfect posture. Everything about his torso seemed unjustly perfect and your fingers twitch to feel every curve and bulge of muscles he is clearly packing.

“He has potential. Any newly turned wolf can maul a coyote, perhaps a camper or two, but to successfully decimate an entire group of hunters? That takes more than luck, dearest Kali, that? That takes talent”.

Your breath hitches as the shoes within your peripheral crease. Deucalion’s crouching, you wonder if he has a short Achilles tendon but all thoughts fly out of your brain as he grabs a fistful of your hair.

He pulls and pulls until your neck and shoulders are arched, teeth-gritting and eyes stinging at the strength he is casually displaying.

“Some new blood will do wonders for our pack. I have plans for this”

He leans in and you hold your breath as his breath spreads over your throat. Something in his chest rumbles, the display is forced but he knows you would have just as easily obeyed if asked. This was an excuse to show you his prowess — and to touch you.

“. . .precious puppy".

It seemed a mystery to you. One moment you were kneeling at his feet in a cave and now you were watching him folding his jacket over the chair. It had been exactly 3 months since they found you and took you in as the only Beta of the pack. Deucalion whispers that he has a plan for you but Kali seems unconvinced at the entire plot. Though, as unwilling as she was, Kali trained you with Ennis without fail. "Deucalion's orders", Ennis answered after you had completed a particularly gruelling endurance test. You force your arms to wipe the sweat off your brow, stretching out your legs in front of you as Ennis tosses a towel your way. "But. . .what am I training for?" Kali rolls her eyes, her pin-straight hair impeccably swaying with every shake of her head. Seriously, she looked like she belonged in a shampoo commercial.

"A test. Deucalion will test you, he says. Don't ask why", Kali wonders about it herself. What happened to the ' All Alpha ' pack that Deucalion boasted about? Weakening the link now seemed unreasonable. There was nothing special about you, Kali's eyes convey those very words despite her mouth not once parting. Judging by Ennis' shrug when you gave him a questioning look, it seemed as though this was something even his generals of pain had no inkling of. That conversation was 2-days ago. Today, a random breezy Wednesday of all days, he had called for you into his office. His room was dark. Ennis' lessons about using your newfound heightened senses came in handy. The icy blues of your eyes dart here and there in an attempt to spot Deucalion. How strange, where could he hide? There was a desk across the door and a few shelving cabinets behind that. A few rugs and some office chairs where office chairs are usually found.

Seriously, a man of his stature should not be able to hide so well. A whizzing sound reaches your ears too late and then a sharp sting is felt on your leg. Hissing, you turn frantically to find the source. Your cut was already healing but the surprise of it left you more startled than you'd like to be. "Even with eyes, people can still be so blind", Deucalion's voice calls from behind you. Spinning, you try to put him in your sights but he's already moving into the darker shadows. "(Y/N), I expected better from you." He's observing the edge of his blade. The scent of you fills invades his senses and Deucalion turns his back towards you to gently place his cane atop his desk. "I . . . I need to work on it, I know", your words lack conviction. Like you're unsure of what you're saying. You are. Did it have to be so obvious though? Deucalion motions you forward with a curl of his finger. The sound of your footsteps pauses a few paces from him. So he turns and he can see the rush of blood to your face, the way your heart picks up its pace just fuels his ego and fills his cock. Even with his eyes, the world had never bared more to him than before.

He could no longer gaze at the light dancing on water, watch the sunset paint the skies with its final bow to the world or even gaze at anything people could consider beautiful. But he was stronger for it. A demon wolf like himself; what right did he have gazing at anything remotely beautiful?

Meanwhile, in your corner of the world, the sight of the low v-line cut of his shirt has you gulping thickly. The venom enhanced your biology, that was a given. Ennis tells you about your heightened senses along with your endurance, durability and all that. He even tells you about a wolf's metabolism. How gaining muscles comes easy to werewolves but surely, even without being born as a wolf, Deucalion would still be a goddamn underwear model. His strong arms brace themselves on the edge of the desk and his hips lean backwards. His shoulders raising causes the flesh of his tits to squeeze together. 'Oh Christ', you thought as you avert your eyes. They were right there, practically looking at you first! The jump of your heartbeat prods him to ask; "Is this the reason you struggle to learn your lessons, (Y/N)?"

He can taste your arousal on his tongue. It burns as his lips part into a toothy smile. It's far too charming. Once again, he'd make such a good underwear model it's quite frankly ridiculous.

"Do you what would've happened if my blade was coated with wolfsbane?" Your mouth opens but all that comes out are pathetic ' uhms ' and ' uhs '. Deucalion's smile sours and he pushes himself from the table to instead circle you. Despite his presence being very tangible right now, your stomach twists every time he slinks out of view. He's a true wolf; a hunter in every sense of the word.

Realistically, every footfall should make a noise despite the rug muffling it. Your sensitive ears should hear the gentle crush of fibres below his soles. Nothing. His gait is so eerily ghostlike your ears try to pick up on anything else. A shadow slips on your right and your eyes chase him but that was reprimanded with another stinging. Your yelp makes him reply with a condescending tutting noise. So incredibly British it would be comical if it wasn't so degrading and hot.

The sleeve of your shirt soaks up the blood that manages to thread out from the now-healed cut. "That's twice now you've been cut with wolfsbane", his voice echoes from everywhere and each time you turn to chase another cut forms on your body. It's humiliating. Painful. Tear-inducing. You were being punished like a bad dog. Pain dished out in tiny but venomous lashes that couldn't really hurt you but the aftershocks make your breath turn ragged.

"You killed 14 trained killers that were blooded into their families by the time they were 15 years old. You were enrolled in university" You scoff, twisting your neck and hissing as you were swiped at. The back of your shirt is decorated by the slices just like the back of your jeans and thighs and sides and neck. . .

"I dropped out", you should bite your tongue. Deucalion's dark chuckle earns shivers up your spine but no lashing. "You've the energy to be quip but can't answer a simple question every werewolf knows", your jaw clenches, "I'm new to this!" His cane makes contact with your thighs, the flexible metal meeting flesh and your hand moves faster than your brain can respond. The cane strains between your hand and Deucalion's, a wrench from you and suddenly he steps closer. It seemed as though you were intent on suffocating him with you. The carpet is stained with splatters of your blood and now, your claws dig into your palm as it holds his cane. Defiantly, you meet his gaze. Those pretty lashes that frame your eyes are now buried by your furrowed brows. He can tell your eyes are glowing. The grinding of your fangs as they tear through your gums makes him flash his teeth in a warning.

Those pillowy lips shield that brash display but you still hold your gaze. So defiant, annoyed, humiliated? Deucalion has killed far more talented werewolves for less disrespect. None have ever faced him so crassly. "Is this what they were greeted with?" Your silence lights a fire within him. Pathetic enough you don't even know what wolfsbane does to your kind, but now you dare halt his lessons to stare him down? "A silent killer. A puppy who massacred trained killers by himself left nothing but torn limbs and innards. Is that who is in front of me now? A monster, who doesn't even know what can kill him and what can't. Do you know what people call that?"

Deucalion pulls his cane free from your grasp and in a swift motion points the blade under your jaw. Gasping, your feet pace backwards but Deucalion simply marches forward. Tiny as the blade is, with an arm rippling with supernatural strength even a sharpened stick can be deadly. Perhaps you'd really crossed a line. Ennis and Kali had been ' nice ' to you out of obligation. Deucalion, so far, had simply watched from afar as you trained. You were still so human despite the weeks that have passed. Perhaps the pack hadn't been clear enough with the pecking order. That had to be fixed. If Deucalion's plans were to work, he'd need you to fully understand the gravity of your change.

The edge of his desk digs into your ass and you've half a mind to turn and crawl over it to put more distance. Something tells you turning your back on Deucalion was a death sentence. So you don't. You freeze as the tip of his blade digs into the underside of your chin. "An idiot. A moron. A beast that only functions on impulse. The only thing that separates us from common wolves is the fact that we're smart, eliminating that element means you're nothing more than a common bitch on the side of the streets". His hand slams next to you. You're so close to him that you can see his red eyes through the dark lenses that balance so studiously on his nose bridge. "My pack has no room for mindless, moronic, mutts", Deucalion twists the cane and the grimace on your face does little to soften the snarl that threatens to contort his visage. He can feel the way your flesh desperately tries to heal the wound. Trying to close around his knife and stop the stuttering stream of red that wets his fingers. His nostrils flare. All he can smell is you. On the carpet, on the microscopic canyons of his skin that flood with your crimson. God, the sweat that teases him as it slips down your chest has him feeling as though he is basking under the summer sun. His insides were burning and he retaliated by hitching the blade deeper into you. " Ah! " His knee forces your legs apart and jerks upwards. The feeble attempts at pushing it away are cut short as he forces your neck to stretch further and further away, back bowing and arching into him as your hands scramble to balance yourself. "This gets you hard?"

There was no way to hide. His knee digs into your crotch and you've no way to even muffle the noise that slips out. It's high and whiny, and the stretching of your neck does little to help. Deucalion scoffs at the lack of denial. "Unbelievable", he pretends to sound mad but Deucalion can barely fight back a grin. "Don't tell me the reason you fail to even answer a simple question is because Ennis and Kali don't rub your slutty cock enough?" He doesn't wait to hear a response. Deucalion simply places a hand on your waist and begins moving your hips. It's a bumpy ride and your hips move so mechanically it reminds you of embarrassingly grinding on a pillow to "practice" riding.

It makes you less heated and more reclusive. Deucalion doesn't give in to the resistance you give him and simply applies more strength to move those impressive hips on his leg. "Fuck", you wish the ground would swallow you whole. This was anything but sexy, actually, everything so far has NOT been sexy but fuck why was your dick filling up? Your transformation must have heightened your penchant for pain too because this is ridiculous. Is it because your fear has lessened? Now, a cut won't get infected or need to be tended to thanks to your supernatural healing. Even so, fear was still very much in the equation. Deucalion was one intimidating man and a frightening werewolf. Gazing up at the ceiling you stiffen your hips but Deucalion digs his nails into your skin and you gasp. "Shit!" Deucalion relishes the way your entire body seemed to jerk and twitch. He's especially keen on the way the tent in your jeans strains further.

"Poor puppy, all trapped in those constricting jeans". The breath of relief comes after your head limply hangs as your chin is finally free. Deucalion makes a show of placing his cane right next to you, right within reach if you dared to disrespect him again.

You let your gaze linger on it though something else calls for your attention and somehow, it's not the raging hard-on you have being grinded on. Deucalion's lips crash into yours, and the prickling sensation of his beard has you whimpering. With both hands on you he all but manhandles you down until you're laid on the desk. He bites down on your lower lip meanly, making you gasp and moan as he palms your crotch. "Fuck, fuck", you're more than confused but a part of you is so pleased with this turn of events. Not just because your throat wasn't ripped apart by Deucalion or the fact that you're getting action from a man worthy of being plastered on a Calvin Klein billboard. It's the scent of satisfaction that's coming off of him in waves. The barely there rumbling in his chest sounds like a purr. The big hands that move and puppeteer you. The body that eclipses the ceiling from you. Deucalion is your alpha. The strongest. The deadliest. Fuck, even a devoted priest would drop to their knees in your position. "Wolfsbane is poison", Deucalion might as well give this a go. Even a slut deserves a fair chance at education. Your eyes are fuzzy, barely there, but they sharpen into focus as he undoes your pants. There's no grace in the way he pulls your cock into the open. He grasps your length firmly, bordering on pain judging from your hiss.

"You do know what poison does to someone, yes?" You nod frantically. Those rigid hips suddenly began canting upwards, thrusting up into his fists as Deucalion bared his teeth to your throat. Instinctually, you moan and turn your head to the side. Submitting to your alpha with no verbal command. Seems as though you knew hierarchy after all. "Good boy", his voice dropped octaves and you're desperate in your need for release. There's something heavy in the air, burning delicious of bergamot and pine. Curls of wood shavings appear as your claws dig into the desk. "Aconit Napel Bleu Nordique, it's a favourite of hunters", Deucalion's voice silences the noises around you. He's effectively made so you only see, hear, smell and feel him. His thumb presses on your wet slit and you curse, unable to move as he continues to mottle your neck with his fangs. "Focus, you're obviously in need of extra help in the learning department, don't make me go back to before", your eyes split open and the cane next to you seems to mock you as it shimmers wetly with your blood. "Puh - poison, bad, mfh! Wolfs, wolfsbane", Deucalion would coo but you haven't deserved that just yet. "Tell me the name of it", your confusion is palpable. "Wolfsbane", he pulls away from you. His hands leave your cock twitching on your stomach as he sighs. "The scientific name, puppy. I just said it", he takes his shades off and neatly places it next to his cane. Fuck. You get on your elbows, reeling from the too much pleasure transitioning to not enough pleasure. He's patient as he adjusts his sleeves and spreads your legs. You mistake it as him simply being kind. Big mistake.

A claw traces the underside of your cock. "Name?" "Wuh - Wait! I -", he frowns. The claw is now just under the mushroom head and your heart triples in speed. "(Y/N)". "A - Accut - No, uhm, Accunit Napal Blue Nordic?"

God, Deucalion thinks. He better be glad he's as endearing as he is stupid.

He wraps his fingers around your dick and pumps nice and slow. The sagging of your body on his desk almost makes him feel pity. "Now I know you know the answer to this next question", dread fills you once again but Deucalion rub his palm across your tip and your toes curl. "I heard Kali teach you a lesson on it. The types of wolfsbane. You did wonderfully then and you'll do the same now". That lesson had been damn near 3 weeks ago! It wasn't like they provided lecture slides for you in this pack. You chew on the insides of your cheeks, chest heaving as you try to push the pleasure away to think. Fuck, how could think right now!? How the hell does Deucalion know how to give hand jobs this good!? He squeezes and you squeak at his reminder. "Purple", that was easy and so Deucalion simply loosens his grip. "Blue?" He cocks a brow. "Are you asking me or telling me, puppy?" You take a breath, " M'tellin".

Deucalion begins stroking you at a steady pace. Your precum wets his palm enough but he spits on your dick (with insane accuracy) and the sloppy sensation makes you groan in ecstasy. "Fuck, another one - Nghah! Fuck! Yellow!" "Gooood boy". Deucalion rewards you. His hand must've been crafted by some sort of sex god because the way he has you writhing and moaning is not normal. Deucalion says nothing, simply looking down at you as you let out wanton moans. He's suddenly struck with the want to see you in every detail. His vision is warped and bloodied. More like a tactile vision, beauty is no longer at the forefront. He thought he had accepted it. But now he wants to see it all. The fading bruise on your hips that is shaped like his hands. The hickeys on your neck, the bitemarks, the scratches — even if the only thing left is the shredded threads. He wonders how handsome you look with your face all screwed up in pleasure. Deucalion decides to distract his thoughts with your taste instead. He leans over you, claiming your lips and swallowing the sinful noises. When you cum, it's no surprise that you cum hard. You swear you saw nothing but white and separate from the kiss to call out for him. Deucalion continues jerking you off despite you cringing and attempting to twist away from him. "Uh-ah, you were so good, puppy. You should be rewarded for every correct answer, don't you think so?" "I - I need a second to breathe — !" "Nonsense, I can't possibly be that cruel to you, puppy".

[gulnarsultan]

Scott : Why are you following him?

Deucalion : To protect.

Scott : The alpha of alphas fell in love?

Deucalion : Son, it would be better for you not to ask too many questions.

[softspiderling]

but i need your lips on mine | d.h.

summary: derek hale is a mystery you have yet to solve

pairing: derek hale x reader

warnings: none

word count: 1,9k

author's note: hello guys the teaser for the long awaited college au is finally here. i hope you guys like it :) tagging @stilinskiderek bc i’ve been annoying charlotte about this fic for ages and i know she’s been waiting for a derek fic😭 side note: this is a teaser/accompanying fic to the actual fic boy, you write your name (I can do the same) which will be out on thursday! meaning this is NOT an excerpt of the fic, but offers more background of the relationship derek and the reader have, and also where the nickname CJ comes from

“Are you actually washing the car or are you just waiting for someone to pay attention to you?”

“Oh ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Derek said dryly, wringing out the sponge and tossing it in one of the soapy buckets. You grinned at him, tossing him a water bottle, which he easily caught, drinking quickly as you leaned your hands into your waist.

“Thanks.”

“Sure,” you replied, looking around. It was quite busy, every single member of the frat seemed hard at work. “Pretty nice turnout, huh?”

Derek shrugged in a way that meant he was agreeing with you, but he didn’t want to look like he was bragging. He was humble like that. You scoffed, brushing your hair back over your shoulder, and Derek zeroed in on the bikini strap under your top, a grin forming on his face.

“You come here to lend a hand?”

“Oh please,” you rolled your eyes at him with a snicker. “I was thinking ahead. With you standing in the sun for the whole day and Isaac around buckets full of water? I was bound to end up soaked, thought I’d save me a trip to the laundromat.”

“Now you’re basically begging me to drench you,” Derek drawled, picking up the sponge soaked full of water, advancing on you.

“Don’t you dare!” You hissed at him, giving him a shove.

“Are you doing a special?”

While you and Derek were wrestling around, ending up with both of you getting a soak, you hadn’t noticed the Mini pulled up next to you, windows down, a pretty girl smirking at yoi.

“Nah, I’m just here to support my friends,” you said, gesturing to Derek, wiping your wet forehead with a laugh. “It’s his frat that’s organizing this car wash. Derek, this is Amanda, she’s in my Women’s Writing class. Just transferred from Palomar.”

“Hey,” Derek said, leaning against her car. “You here for a full wash?”

“Sure am.”

Derek nodded, leaning back. “Isaac! Grab some boys and a couple of buckets, we got another one.”

Isaac saluted Derek, his wet curls hanging in his face. Glancing over to you, he grinned, wagging his eyebrows when he caught you staring at his bare chest, turning on his heel to grab the buckets, but not without teasing you.

“Take a picture, CJ, it’ll last longer.”

“CJ?” Amanda asked, raising a brow. You groaned internally when Derek only smirked at her, clearly ecstatic that he got to tell the story again.

“Right, you’re a transfer, so you don’t know where her nickname comes from. Well, let me tell you, you’re in for a treat. It was a really nice summer day-”

“Derek, I’m not letting you tell the story again with the exaggerations,” you scowled at him, though in jest, shoving him gently. You turned back to Amanda, sighing softly. “Anyways. It all started when I was a freshman, a couple of weeks into the semester. I was taking Deucalion’s class for Intro to Ancient History….”

An incessant ringing pulled you out of your deep slumber, but your head barely rose from the pillow as you poked the screen of your phone until the alarm stopped, leaving you to your slumber again. You had fallen asleep around 4:30 because it had taken you that long to finish your paper on Caesar. Usually, you never left your assignments for the last minute, and to be fair, you didn’t really. Leave it to the last minute, that is. The assignment was done, sitting in your folders waiting to be printed for about a week or so. But then you caught up with your study group, where you found out that Deucalion always knocked you down a letter grade if he didn’t agree with your opinion. And he loved Caesar. You didn’t. Which you made exceptionally clear in your essay. So being the freshman that you were, wanting to get good grades in your first semester, you decided to rewrite all 8 pages with the deadline looming in less than 10 hours, because he insisted on collecting the assignments right at the beginning of the class. Not the smartest thing you’ve done. Around one am, the library had closed, in the middle of your hot streak, and by the time you reached your dorm, you lost your train of thought and it took you two hours to find it again. And it was not because you fell asleep for 20 minutes. When the alarm blares up again, you groaned loudly, reaching for your phone to silence it, stilling when the phone pinged, announcing the arrival of a text. You narrowed your eyes at the screen, your eyes bleary as your vision slowly cleared.

[Stevie]: where r u???

Your heart plummeted when you read the text, and while you checked the time, you had to resist the urge to throw yourself out of the window.

08:13. Deucalion’s class started at 08:15.

“FUCK!”

Scrambling up from your bed, your legs tangled in the blankets and you nearly brained yourself when you fell to the floor. Getting up, you located your paper on your desk, making sure it was still where you left it, before you headed to the bathroom, quickly brushing your teeth. With your toothbrush in your mouth, you tugged some jeans and a shirt out of the closet, laying it on the bed to get changed when there was another ping.

[Stevie]: hes l8 if u hurry up u mite make it in time

Your eyes widened, the gods must’ve heard your silent prayers and you rushed to the bathroom, spitting out your toothpaste, and splashing some water in your face for good measure before you grabbed your stuff, backpack on your arm, phone and paper in your hand, running across campus to get to the lecture hall. When you finally skidded to a halt in front of the doors of the lecture hall, you slowly opened the door, peeking into it. There were two lines down the stairs, so the other students must be in line to drop off their papers at the front. Sighing a deep breath of relief, you squeezed yourself through the gap in the door and inconspicuously walked behind the last person in line. As the line moved forward, you dropped your backpack in between the seated rows, making it seem like you’d been in the class from the beginning. As the line slowly moved forward, you caught a glimpse of Professor Deucalion at the front. Only, it wasn’t him… Narrowing your eyes, you eyed the guy that was standing by the desk, his arms crossed. He had dark hair, a faint stubble and a scowl on his face. Must be Deucalion’s TA, though you didn’t remember ever seeing him during lectures, though he did look quite familiar. By the time you reached the front desk, you lifted your head, your eyes meeting the TA’s. He raised an eyebrow at you as you dropped your assignment on the stack and the way the corners of his mouth curled up made you furrow your brows.

“What?” you asked defensively and he uncrossed his arms, leaning his hands on the desk.

“Nothing… Just. Cute jammies.”

You heard the class let out laughter as you stared at him before glancing down at yourself, flushing when you realized you were still wearing your pj’s, which was just a tank top and arguably your worst pyjama pants: Teal and pink Hello Kitty pants. Snapping your head up, you glared at him, but before you could say another word, the side door opened, and Professor Deucalion walked in.

“You better take a seat, CJ,” the TA said with a smirk, collecting the assignments in his hand and you bit back a retort, finding an empty in the back row as Professor Deucalion started the lecture. As he droned on, your eyes kept flitting over to the TA in the first row, glaring at the back of his head. Even hours later, when you were at some fresher party a frat was throwing, the incident was a topic with your friends.

“It was crazy. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you.”

Stevie nodded as you only rolled your eyes, taking another sip of your drink. “Seriously, she was staring with her mouth open and everything. Which I get. I just have more self-control.”

“You guys are ridiculous. He was making fun of me,” you pointed out and Audrey stared at you, her eyes nearly bugging out of her head.

“Dude. He wants to bang you.”

With a snort, you shook your head at your friends and their crazy conspiracy theories.

“Come on, I didn’t come here to talk about our lecture. Let’s go find something to do. I think they’re playing beer pong in the backyard,” you suggested, dragging your friends through the house and out into the backyard, which seemed to be just as crowded as inside. Walking over to the beer pong table, it looked like they were in the middle of the game, so you just tapped on the shoulder of one guy.

“Hey, is it possible for me and my friends to play a round?”

“Sure,” he replied without turning around, throwing the ball and scoring. “You guys can just- oh hey, CJ!”

Of course it was fucking him*. The TA from Deucalion’s lecture was standing in front of you, an amused grin on his face.*

“My name is-” you started, but he waved you off snickering.

“I know what your name is. But CJ is fitting, isn’t it?” He took a sip from his drink, giving you a brief once over and you ignored how Stevie’s grip around your arm tightened for a second. “I see you changed, though I must say I did like the pants.” You gave him a look and he offered you his hand.

“Derek Hale.”

“There were a lot of people at that party. And I guess the name just stuck.”

“Huh. So everyone just calls you CJ?”

You shrugged. You didn’t really mind the nickname, it was cute. At this point, it was odd to hear someone call you by your government name unless it was a professor or someone from the faculty. Everyone addressed you as CJ. It was just the story that bothered you, mostly because Derek liked to add details that were unimportant. Also because he cracked up all the time telling the story like it was the funniest thing he’d ever experienced, that jerk.

“You have to admit it’s a cool nickname,” Derek cut in, and Amanda laughed.

“Guess so… So how does that work with you being a TA and you two dating?”

“We’re not dating.” “He’s not actually a TA.”

Really? That was what he chose to correct? You side-eyed Derek but he just gave you a subtle wink as Amanda perked up, looking at you curiously.

“So, you’re single?”

Even before you replied, you noticed how Derek clinked himself out of the conversation, walking over to the waiting cars leaning against the door. Every time you thought you had figured him out, he went ahead and did something that confused you even more. Sometimes you thought back to what Audrey and Stevie had said to you about Derek before you even really knew him. You glanced over to him as you handed Amanda your phone so she could put her number in, and it was as if Derek could feel your eyes on him, he turned his head in your direction, giving you a small smile, flashing his teeth at you. Some day you will just flat out ask him.

But not today.

[specialagentlokitty]

Derek Hale x reader - protect you

i was wondering if i could request a derek hale x reader where he’s hurt or having a bad day, and the reader is there to comfort him and help him through it. - @directioner5life 💜

Derek didn’t know where to go, he couldn’t go to the loft, he couldn’t go to Scott or Deacon, nowhere seemed safe for him, not with the alphas trying to run him down.

As he limped through the streets, he stopped at a corner and held a hand around his abdomen, letting out a small breath.

That’s when he remembered there was one place he could go to, one place no supernatural could get into without invite, couldn’t even find without being shown.

He’d only been there a few times, and he wasn’t sure he was welcome but he had no choice, he was bleeding too much and it was the closest and safest place he could go.

Your apartment.

He made his way to the old run down looking building and hauled himself up the stairs.

He reached out door and leant against the wall, knocking on the door lightly as he looked around nervously.

Not even a second had passed and you opened it, ushering him inside before closing and locking the door, laying down mountain ash once more.

“That was quick..” he mumbled.

“Could sense you nearby. Had a feeling you were coming here.”

You took his arm and led him to the table and helped him sit up on it and walked across the room to a cabinet.

“Take your shirt off and lay down.”

“If you wanted me shirtless you didn’t have to ask.” He chuckled.

You didn’t say anything, you simply grabbed everything you were looking for and set them on the table as you looked at the wounds he had.

First you carefully cleaned around them, making sure not to do anything that could agitate them.

“What happened Derek…?” you asked softly.

“Alpha pack.”

You nodded your head and started to clean the gashes, then slowly starting to stitch them up very slowly and gently.

When you finished and you moved everything away and walked back over, peering down at him while he gazed softly up at you.

“You need to be more careful…”

“I know, I know I’m sorry. But they were going after Scott’s mom, what other choice did I have?” He sighed.

“To be more careful that’s what choice Derek. Or at least let me help you.”

“No, it’s too dangerous.”

You rolled your eyes at him and flexed your fingers, showing small flames and sparks before turning your attention back towards the werewolf laying on your table.

“Right, I’m a powerful druid love, I can help you.”

“And I’m not willing to risk you getting hurt. And if you’re a powerful witch you could at least heal this.”

He gestured to his wounds and you shook your head, gently patting his chest.

“You know I can’t, not yet it’ll be too dangerous. There’s always an effect to these kinds of magics.”

Derek sighed and went to sit up but you pushed him back down, hand over his face as you held him to the table.

“Don’t, if you rip those it’ll take longer before I can heal them.”

Derek huffed a little and you smiled, moving your hand away you leant down and softly kissed the top of his head.

“Just stay here for about ten minutes okay, I’ll make something that can hopefully speed that process up.”

Derek nodded and you walked away.

Derek knew you didn’t go far, he could hear you humming under your breath in the next room as you gathered things together.

He could smell the Alphas outside and he started to grow worried, thinking he had made a mistake coming here.

You walked into the room and handed him something.

“Drink.”

Then you walked to the window and pushed it open, leaning on the edge as you peered down at the red eyes that stared up.

“Do not start a war you know you cannot finish Deucalion.”

“I don’t want to start a war with you Druid. I simply want the werewolf you’re hiding.”

You hummed a little.

“If you come anywhere near this building, threaten any more humans I swear to you and your so called pack I will make you all the most cursed, hunted, screwed up werewolves to have ever walked this earth. You will be haunted for your whole lives and you next lives to come.”

Deucalion smiled a little and raised his hand, gesturing for everyone to back off and they did.

“I know not to cross you, I have heard the stories. You have my word that we won’t hurt anymore humans, or your mate.”

With that he walked away with his pack and you turned to Derek who was now sitting up, blood seeping from his wounds.

“Derek!”

Storming over you gently pushed him back down and placed your hand on his forehead, running your fingers through his hair as you looked at him.

As a Druid, you didn’t really care much about anyone, you kept yourself to yourself, but you would do anything for this werewolf, anything

[alexyskinnerstories]

The Mated Alpha’s | Alpha Derek Hale x Black curvy Fem!Alpha Mccall!Reader

*Y/n Pov *

I just got into town from staying with friends in New Orleans. Derek had called me a few weeks ago telling me that he and other wolves are needing help with a pack of alphas I immediately knew who they were going against Deucalion had tried to convince me to join his pack of alphas I said no obviously because I wasn’t dumb. I had dropped the children at Mom's and was about to pull up to my husband's living I stepped out of my car and looked at the building. I suddenly felt pain in my midsection I immediately knew my husband was horribly hurt I rushed quietly into the building as I made it in I could smell his blood it made me furious I parkour up some flights of stairs and ran to the door I slide the door open quickly to see Derek with a pole through his midsection I furious growl at them I walked over to Deucalion’s Bitch and she stepped away from Derek and growl at me try to get me to attack first I got close enough to Derek as I slowly pulled it out of him I help over to the corner of the wall so he wasn’t in the way of the fight was about to happen

I quickly got up and kicked her in the stomach as I heard her run towards me my kick send her flying across the room she landed with a loud groan.

I turned to “ The Blind man” also known as Deucalion I walked to him I was in front of him

Me: Deucalion didn’t I tell you to stay away from my family and to stop with this foolish pack of alphas

Deucalion: I was never gonna listen to what you told me about my pack as you can see it’s going well about this family, I don’t think you have any family here that is why I am here for that alpha over there, and another in town.

Me: oh my you’re such an imbecile they must fucked up your wolf senses because like my scent is everywhere in this place like take a great sniff of the place dumb ass

He took a deep sniff and finally got hit with the scent of the place tensing up I laughed and lend to him to leave with the little alpha bitch I lean back and dodged and weak attempt of an attack from Kali as Derek call out to me to watch out I grab her arm and smashed her head into the wall beside me she groaned and try to hit me I dodge again knocked her down with a backhand slap she finally stopped me and left with Deucalion

When I knew they were gone I went to Derek to see if he was alright he smiled and nodded he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into his embrace I sighed and cuddle into his chest I told him that the children are with my mother and that we have time only for a couple of hours he smiles and pick me up over his shoulder and walked to our room I guess he got a bit hot and bothered when I was being mommy alpha as he likes to call it at times

[jjsmaybank20]

Hello! Is it possible to request with Lydia Martin? The pack was walking together in the forest, the reader has been dating Lydia for a long time. So, the Reader felt something would be wrong, and for good reason. Because the next moment, a tree falls on Lydia (or you can come up with a situation yourself). The reader pushed Lydia aside, but she did not have time to jump away and was crushed. Waking up, the Reader sees Lydia sitting next to him and watching. Since werewolves recover quickly, I think Lydia decided to thank the Reader. Thanks!

Always

Lydia Martin x GN!Reader

Summary: You will always protect Lydia, even if it puts you in danger in the process.

Warnings: Reader gets crushed with a tree, the L-word, like one innuendo, angsty-ish, fluffy otherwise.

Word Count: 1k

navigation  teen wolf masterlist

---

In hindsight, it probably wasn’t the best idea to take a walk in the forest while there was still a pack of Alphas coming after you and your friends.

When your best friend, Stiles, suggested you and your girlfriend join the rest of the group on a stroll, you immediately took him up on his offer. You were getting tired of having to be cautious about everything you do, and you needed fresh air.

Your girlfriend, Lydia, was a little nervous, but you promised that everything would be fine. If only you knew.

---

Walking through the forest you close your eyes and breathe in the clean, fresh air. Next to you, Scott and Isaac are wrestling with each other while trying to walk. 

Laughing at their antics, you move towards them to join in. You notice Derek grumbling, muttering under his breath, “Children.” Suddenly, you hear a loud roar that makes you shift along with the other werewolves in the group.

Looking up at the outlook your group was approaching, you see the Alphas you had been trying to avoid. Deucalion’s pack. One of the twins glares at you, jealousy radiating off of him at the sight of the arm you have around Lydia.

“Thank you for coming to such a secluded spot. Easier to kill you all without any pesky witnesses.” Deucalion states. You glare up at him before turning to look at the non-werewolves behind you.

“Lydia, Allison, Stiles, I need you guys to get as far away from here as you can. We’ll hold them off for as long as possible.” Allison and Stiles nod and start to slowly back up. Lydia hesitates before grabbing your arm, making you turn back. She pulls you into a quick kiss.

You hear a loud growl, making you turn around. Seeing the twins combine makes your eyes widen in fear. Quickly, you push Lydia towards her best friend so she can get away safely. 

As soon as he sees an opening, Isaac jumps at Kali. The two of them start fighting, prompting Scott to dive for Ennis. You call out to say, “I’ve got the twins!” Derek goes for Deucalion.

Suddenly, the twins dive over your head, and start running at Lydia, Allison, and Stiles. You quickly get up and run after them, hoping to at least drag them back to give your friends and girlfriend a better chance to get away.

Just as you are about to grab the twin-wolf, it veers away, heading towards a very dead tree that looks like it will fall any day now. 

A little too late, you realize what they are about to do. You put your head down and push yourself to run faster. You just barely make it to the terrified group in time. Stiles and Allison make it far enough away to be okay, but Lydia is frozen in place right in the location the tree will hit.

Jumping forward, you hear a loud crack. Just as you shove your girlfriend out of the way, the massive tree comes down onto you. 

It doesn’t hurt at first, and you realize you're pinned under the tree. Suddenly, the pain hits you all at once. Black dots swim in your vision, and you hear your girlfriend calling your name. She rushes to you quickly, and you realize you can barely hear her.

You vaguely gather that the Alpha pack is retreating because of the damage Isaac inflicted on Kali, and that Scott and Isaac both help to lift the tree off of you before rushing you to the hospital and to Melissa McCall. You quickly lose consciousness in Stiles’s Jeep.

---

When you regain consciousness, you try to sit up, only to get pushed back down by your very concerned and angry girlfriend. 

You try to get on her good side by starting with, “Heyyyy, sweetheart-” but she shuts you down immediately.

“Don’t you dare ‘hey sweetheart me. You almost died! If you weren’t a fucking werewolf, you would be dead! You can’t fucking do that to me. I can’t lose you!” You notice she has started crying, so you pull her down into your arms.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, Lyd. I just couldn’t let you get hurt. Also, I’m okay! I heal really fast. Yes, I do feel like I have the worst hangover ever, but I guess that's what happens when Alpha twins drop a tree on you.” 

Lydia tearfully laughs at that. You both snap your heads up when you hear Melissa start talking. “I don’t even want to know how you know what a hangover feels like. Anyway, because you're a werewolf, almost everything is healed by now. You do need to keep those wraps on for a few days so your ribs can heal correctly.”

You nod in agreement before asking, “Does this mean I can go home today?” Melissa nods, exasperated. “You guys need to stop looking for danger. I can’t keep releasing kids with serious injuries within hours of them checking in. I’m going to lose my job.”

You laugh before getting up with help from your girlfriend. “C’mon, we’re going to my place. We can have some fun.” Lydia winks at you before walking off, swinging her hips.

You excitedly rush after her, pulling her towards her car.

---

“This is not what I thought you meant when you said ‘some fun’.” You state. You had sat down on your girlfriend’s bed, prepared for a lengthy makeout session, maybe even more, but instead your girlfriend had grabbed her computer and put on ‘The Notebook’.

Lydia just smiles at you before carefully curling into your side. You quickly relax, before muttering, “This is nice too.”

You look down at Lydia, who is already looking at you. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She just smiles at you softly before saying quietly, “No. I just… Thank you for protecting me. I didn’t say it before, and I wanted to now. And… I love you.”

You grin at her. “You love me?” She flicks you, blushing, before saying, “Yes, you doofus. I love you.”

You feel your heart fill with affection for the smaller girl. “I love you too. I love you so much, Lydia Martin.”

---

Join my taglist!

[reveluving]

top notes ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: danger has never smelled so... enticing.

warnings: implied s~mut; blood kink (minors DNI!), failed home invasion + minor character death & fluff!

a/n: we're back with another vampire wifey because it was only right to include them in this little event! hope you enjoy it & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» wanna know what I have in store this fall? come & check out my m.list for 'reve's quirky reverie 🕷️'!

'It was luring them to you.' ;

Something was amiss. 

Peter knew Deuc felt the same when they turned to each other at the same time, brows furrowing and muscles tensing. Whatever it was, it had them dropping the supplies they had been arguing over before rushing out of the grocery store with inhumane speed.

Nobody really visited this side of the block past nine. However, the pair couldn’t care less about bumping into a civilian and potentially giving them a heart attack, especially with looks that could kill a man as they sped up back to the cabin, where you were home alone.

But just as the momentum picked up, they stopped dead in their tracks.

The scent—your scent grew stronger, but it wasn’t your blood. It was the same one you’ve always had, but more addictive, invigorating, even. Attracting their senses like the top notes of a perfume and awakening the much feral side of them, the kind that was only shown between the sheets. It was luring them to you. It only spurred them to run faster than they did before. 

It was almost like a race at this point, passing through the forest and breaking through tough branches in their paths like a bunch of twigs. Not long after, the cabin was in sight.

Deuc was the one who slammed the door open, his chest heaving more so because it wasn’t locked rather than the fact that he and Peter had run all the way home in mere minutes. Both the upper and lower levels were dark, other than the moonlight passing through the windows. But it hardly mattered when Deuc’s eyes landed on the movements in the middle of the living room.

Peter snarled, wondering why Deuc froze up by the front door before shoving him to get to you. 

“Out of my way.” Only for Peter to stop moving, too.

You were covered in blood, dripping all the way to the necklace you wore. Your nightgown was no better, the red had already made its way under the silk, and the view of the blood trailing down the valley of your breasts only roused the two. 

Your scent, plus the very sight of you nearly had them losing control. Their breaths had grown heavier, gazing upon you with half-lidded eyes and an aching need to have you right then and there. 

But you didn’t need that. Not now,

“Angel?” Peter called out to you softly, hoping to calm you down the way one would to a scared and wounded animal. His and Deuc’s hearts broke a little at your fearful whimper, “Hey, it’s okay. It’s just us.”

Deuc nodded along, holding his hands up the way Peter was to let you know there was nothing to fear, and even then, you could only look down, clenching on the hem of your gown.

They approached you ever so slowly, catching a glimpse of the lifeless body and the sizable puddle of blood that trailed from behind you. A pitiful-looking man, dressed in all black with an expression that was of pure horror. 

They could breathe easily, at least for a moment. 

“Are you hurt anywhere?” Deuc asked, nodding as you sluggishly shook your head, “Good, good.”

You awaited their reaction; incredulity, repulsion, hostility, anything that would have your stomach dropped for acting so careless and letting your emotions take over you, even for a brief moment. But none came, other than the lust in their eyes, the ones that you missed as you stared at the ground.

You were expecting the absolute worst that the feeling of Peter wrapping his arms around you from behind caused you to jump, “Peter?” You sounded in disbelief, as though you had snapped out of your adrenaline high. Deuc took the spot right beside him, holding your other hand, “Deuc.”

“It’s alright,” He kissed the back of your hand, uncaring of the blood, “Can we turn the lights on, angel? Just in case you’re hurt.”

You couldn’t find it in you to decline the offer, even when you wordlessly told them you were fine just seconds ago. You nodded again, leaning into Peter as he switched the table lamp on just next to him.

For one man, the splatters made it look like a massacre. You were nearly drenched but the other guy was worse and served him right, too. 

"Tell us what happened." Peter sought nicely, carefully wiping off a bit of the smear on the side of your lips.

You let out a shaky breath.

"I came down from the bedroom," You covered your eyes, not even thinking twice about the blood that you smeared on your face, and neither did Peter as he consoled you by rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I-I don't know how I didn't hear him." 

You did know, and you hated yourself for it. You dropped your guard, growing too comfortable with the sanctuary you've built ever since you met the men holding you. 

"I panicked. H-He... He didn't smell either of you." Your throat tightened. You remembered how your stomach dropped upon realizing that it wasn't them or the pack. How you slammed him against the wooden floor before removing his mask. The knife he had in his hand slid far from his reach, though he made a futile attempt to get it.

The way your evil grin made his body run cold before you sneered in his ear, "You've gone far enough now." 

You ignored his pleas and beg, only driving you forward to end his ways as you pierced your fangs into his neck. You made sure to make it as painful as possible as he thrashed and cried out like a man slaughtered in your steel grip. His movements only made it worse for him as the blood splattered out of his body uncontrollably, dousing you both in red. 

But just as the fun started, you were brought back to reality. Never in your life have you ever scooted back so abruptly, moving away as if your skin was burnt badly.

You even tried to rub the blood off you, even if you knew you were just making a fool out of yourself.

“M’sorry.” You weren’t sorry for killing the man, he deserved it. You were sorry for worrying them. This wasn't your first rodeo, but you haven't done it since moving back in Beacon Hills. Plus, no one was there for you when it happened. You had to wallow in despair, pick yourself up and act like it didn't happen.

Rinse and repeat.

"No, you have nothing to be sorry for. He should've known better than to think no one was living in a well-kept cabin." Deuc clicked his tongue, snarling at the dead body before leaning in for a peck on your forehead.

Peter hummed in agreement, easing your train of thoughts with kisses on your sensitive neck.

It made you wonder; did you act the way you did because you were scared? Or because you have restrained your dark side long enough before it snapped? Or had you done so because the 'old' days of Peter and Deuc's ways were starting to rub off on you, even for the greater good?

Then again, you were doing yourself a favour. Hell, you were doing everyone a favour. Had the law cuffed him up instead, who knows what tricks he would've had behind closed doors to be free? Then, he'd just terrorize the neighbourhood again, or worse, amp up his acts as revenge. 

The more you thought it through, your rational side dispelling your doubts and concerns, the less scarier it became.

"Feeling any better?" Peter murmured against your skin, prompting you to respond with an 'mhm'. You finally looked up at Deuc, who gave you a warm smile. You mustered up a smaller one, reaching over to cradle his face with both hands, only to pull away just as fast as you somehow forgotten about the blood.

"Sorry," You mumbled, but he wasn't having it, taking your hand in his and placing it back on his cheek. Your smile grew a little more, looking over your shoulder and being surprised by Peter surging forward to press his lips to yours.

A giggle bubbled in your throat when Deuc closed the gap between the two of you, nipping on your shoulder, the side that Peter hadn’t touched yet.

This moment alone had only reminded them of how incredibly exquisite of a being you were. You were delicate just as you were deadly. Not that they had forgotten about it, not at all, but this—this was a sight to behold. Though they’ve seen you in action countless times, you have never let your anger fully take control of you, not even in the most dire situation. 

You were too special not to appreciate, the crème de la crème, too good for this godforsaken world, even for them.

But oh, they were too greedy to let you go.

But Peter also couldn’t help himself when he opened his mouth.

"As sweet as this is, I have a confession," Oh, boy. Deuc had a feeling where this was going, "Has anyone ever told you how hot you look covered in blood?" 

Deuc sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. But he couldn’t blame him.

“What? You going to sit there and deny it?” Peter scoffed at Deuc before nuzzling his nose against yours, “I know you caught her scent when were in the forest.”

Deuc’s face hardened, causing you to blink quizzically.

“My scent?”

“It was…” Intoxicating. Enticing. A taste worth dying for. “Pure perfection.”

Your eyes grew wide. You were unaware of such a fact, but then again, they were the same dangerous duo who found you special the first time you met them. The ones who saw you as remarkable when egotistical pups or any trespassers are panic-stricken by your presence.

“I… Really?” You would’ve looked so innocent if not for the bloodbath, and that only turned them on even more. There was a chance you wouldn’t be up for it, but there was no harm in asking.

“Really. I almost lost control when we came here,” Peter swiped the pad of his thumb across your lips. He cocked his head in Deuc’s direction, “Him, too.”

You turned to the latter, silently gasping at he stared down at you both lovingly and sensually. Though, you couldn’t lie and say this wasn’t turning you on either.

And the second they let out a dangerous groan, the same time you began rubbing your thighs together no matter how subtle you were trying to be, you knew you couldn’t hide it and you didn’t want to.

“What do you say?” Peter’s warm breath tickled your neck.

“In this?” You managed to gesture at the grotesque display you were covered in, or at least it was in your eyes.

“Especially in this.” He replied without missing a beat, easily lifting you so your legs straddled his lap, wide enough for you to squeal as Deuc moved closer to you.

“Your call, angel.” Deuc caressed the apple of your cheek, “You say the word and we’ll take good care of you.”

You wanted nothing more than to be doted and fucked by your beloveds.

“Yes.”

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» a/n: we love our protective husbands, don't we! ;) ;; gorgeous divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[noonaishere]

Masterlist of Older Works

These are all fics I wrote in 2020 and before.

I have tumblr versions of these on my main blog, symphonyofmars, but something happened with one of them where I fucked up some formatting or something and like half of a chapter repeats itself. I fixed it on AO3 but not here, so I'm only putting the AO3 links and I recommend reading them all there.

The works that are 18+ are clearly marked.

Redemption [Deucalion] (18+)

2016-2018

🌶️🔥Smut🔥🌶️

Fic type: traditional style

Pairing: Deucalion x fem!OC

Genre: Teen Wolf, canon complaint (mostly), AU (that starts after season 4), OCs

Warnings: paranormal violence, SMUT

Status: Finished

Ever since being let go by Scott and Derek, Deucalion has been in hiding. Except for the mercenary Braden, he hasn’t had contact with anyone in months and no one knows where he is.

Meanwhile, Scott and his pack are enjoying one of Beacon Hills’ rare quiet periods, but that is about to change. A grisly corpse is found and the hunt is on to figure out who – or what – the killer is before they can kill again.

House of the Dead [Malachi]

2018

Fic type: traditional style

Pairing: Malachi x fem!OC

Genre: Riverdale, AU, flashback, character past

Warnings: (none really, since it ended before things really got started)

Status: Unfinished but abandoned

This fic takes place after season 2. Malachi seemed like he was spiraling further out of control, but there was a time in his life where he wasn't. What was missing that made him so unhinged? How did the Ghoulies form and who formed it? And anyway, who doesn’t want to be the most powerful woman in the room?

[Sorry, this one is never getting finished. I liked writing this, but it was an experiment to see if I could return to a work every week to update it and the conclusion was: I can't. Writing a fic all at once like a book is the way to go, for me. It was also originally going to have smut, but I was editing Cold Hands Warm Heart at the same time as writing this, and that one ended up winning all my attention in the end. I do want to repurpose some of the OCs for an original book (and maybe even this version of Malachi since he's so OOC per the show), so they at least won't go to waste.]

Cold Hands Warm Heart [Loki] (18+)

2018-2020

🌶️🔥Smut🔥🌶️

Fic type: traditional style

Pairing: Loki x fem!reader

Genre: MCU, Marvel Comic Universe, AU, heroes (and characters I like) never die

Warnings: assault, extraterrestrial violence, copious amounts of fashion descriptions, raging against the machine, existential crises/angst, sass, SMUT, BDSM

Status: Finished

From my AO3 descrip: "This fic takes place in some weird space after Infinity War in which Loki didn’t die and had just faked his death AGAIN, because I refuse to believe he’s dead." So it's canon compliant up until a certain point lol.

Three Weeks [Henry Cavill]

2020

Fic type: traditional style

Pairing: Henry Cavill x fem!reader

Genre: real life AU

Warnings: none, mentions of quarantine and coronavirus

Status: Finished

The Reader is a script writer on The Witcher 2 and begins a budding romance with the lead actor, Henry Cavill. However, coronavirus is going around and no one is prepared. Love in the Time of Corona?

[This is partly inspired by all the footage of people finding ways to deal with the quarantine I saw at the time, and partly by the way the first season of The Witcher was told where; Geralt was in the past and Ciri was in the present (did I get that right? lol) and the two timelines overlapped at a particular point. It left me wanting to try doing that, you can be the judge of if I succeeded lol.]

Anyway, that's them. If you decide to read them, please comment 😊 I know they're old, but I still like hearing what people have to say, it gives me motivation 😊

Enjoy! 🥰🥰🥰

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ Show Me How ❞ [part 2]

Deucalion x werewolf!male!reader | nsfw, smut, gore & violence | sub.bttm.reader (AMAB) | wc: 7k | not proofread

warnings: the alpha still haven’t gone through their redemption arc, anal fingering, anal sex, size kink, deucalion transforming into his demon wolf form in the middle of sex, tummy bulge, creampies, biting kink (?)

summary: you were given a task — Deucalion says you're ready despite the doubts the others have. you're determined to show them, show Deucalion, just how good of a puppy you were.

author's note: this is for @malewh0re, ly bestie!! I'm trying to change the POV from you to he/they and YN's so bare with me folks

masterlist; part 1

“It doesn’t make any sense”, she whimpers out. Her grip on his biceps tightens as she glances over her shoulder. The moon was shy tonight — a shame. A horned moon was supposed to decorate the sky; a curve of light from the heavens peeking from behind a dark curtain of night. “What doesn’t make sense?” Amy looks at him incredulously. Legs slow as she pulls her arm away from his grip. He raises his brows in question. She crosses her arms, her lips pinched like she was tasting something sour. “Seriously?” Amy’s tone is nothing short of scathing. “What?” He shrugs, pocketing his hands. 

“No — Are you being serious?” Scoffing, he lifted his shoulders and let his hands fall limply to his side. “Look at your shirt!” and he does. It was soaked in blood, sticky —  mildly uncomfortable —  but it wasn’t as though he was drenched in it. Probably not the best night to have worn a white shirt; was it his fault that the hunter blocked his claws with his neck?  No. Absolutely not. It wasn’t his fault the huner was a blood fountain. (Y/N) considers himself lucky that all he got was the initial spray from the slice and nothing more. Amy was not so lucky. The poor girl had been right behind the man and as he twisted, his arteries aimed right at her.

Was that the reason she was so hysterical? 

“Nothing a cold wash can’t fix”, he assures. Amy grabs a fistful of her brown hair in each hand. “He wasn’t supposed to be there”. He tilted his head as Amy paced. Her already dirty sneakers get muddier with each, pointed, stomp. It’s been raining a lot as of late. With how heavy the clouds look, it seems that tonight won’t be any different. “The hunter?” he pries. Amy is holding herself back from going ‘ uh, duh! ‘ but her eyes still send daggers (Y/N)’s way despite the restrained nodding. The smile on his face belittles her. Gold bleeds into her brown eyes and she snaps her teeth at him.

“Amy”, (Y/N) groans.

“I’m not crazy! It doesn’t make sense!” His hands raise and they settle on her shoulders. Amy shrugs them off. “No! Don’t do that!” “You’re right!” Amy finally pauses, her heart rate slowly mellowing down as she takes a breath. (Y/N) continues; “You’re right, Amy. It doesn’t make sense why he’s here but let’s not pretend he needs any”. She sniffles, brows furrowing as she stutters out a question. “What are you saying, (Y/N)?” “Werewolf hunters kill werewolves,” she looks at the canopy of trees and mutters something under her breath. (YN) spares a glance just to see if the moon is peering down. No luck. There was no time to be disappointed — Amy’s in his face.

“They have a code. They don’t kill shifters just for the hell of it”. She places her hand on his chest and sighs. 

“You’re new to this whole thing but trust me, it really doesn’t make any sense at all. They only hunt those who hunt humans,” as she lifts her head to make sure this goes through his head she freezes.

The corners of his lips struggle to compose themselves from revealing a toothy grin. “You believe that shit?” 

Amy pulls herself away from you as if you burned her. 

“I have to believe in it”. 

“Why?” 

“Because it’s life or death, shithead. It protects our kind from being mindlessly killed”.

She hates this expression on his face. The minute raise of his brow coupled with the upside-down grin. She especially hates how small it makes her feel. 

“You think this is funny? A man died tonight!”

“A hunter died tonight."

Your tone is so sharp Amy flinches. “Yesterday? It was Kevin, the pack emissary. Last week? The Linetti sisters and the month before it was their goddamn parents. Don’t pretend that this piece of shit didn’t deserve this, he was probably the one that killed them”.

“You don’t know that!” 

“And you? You know with absolute certainty that he didn’t kill them? That he just came over to this town, stalked us for the whole day only to corner us because he wanted to talk with your father? Come on, Amy.” Amy crosses her arms. 

“I know they have a code”. She can’t even look at him. Glaring petulantly at the wet leaves like a spoiled child. The huff of disbelief that follows makes her press her lips together. “I may be new to this but I’m not that naive. Wake up, Amy. It’s us or them in their eyes. It always has been. If you’re too blind to see that. . .”

The moonlight on your skin makes your gums itch.

“Are you really fit to lead the pack?” 

Given the state the two of them were in upon returning to the safe house, the pack was up in arms at the news. “You did what!?” 

Victor is a mountain of a man. His brow bone is low and his eyes downturned; He’d look good with a full beard but the man’s shirts are steamed every day. No wrinkle in sight. His shoes shined, his salt and pepper hair trimmed. Even his goddamn cuticles looked tended to. When he’s yelling — like he is now — he resembles more of a man than he pretends to be. The lines across his forehead and the skin that folds over as he furrows his brows make him resemble a wolf with his hackles raised.

“I did what I had to do,” (Y/N) replied.

Whispers spread all around. As he glances at the pack he couldn’t help but scoff. Victor’s voice makes him tear his eyes away from the pitiful sight.

They had the numbers but would not rise to the challenge. Were they really content with that? With an alpha, and their future alpha, who teaches them to tuck their tails in and file their fangs down?

“You put the pack in danger, my daughter in danger! Do you know what this means for us!?” 

“It means we didn’t roll over and show our belly! It means we fought back! They hit us first!”

Victor nearly shakes from fury. (Y/N) swears he can see steam coming out of his ears. Here he was,  the alpha, sweating and screaming at a Beta in front of his dwindling pack. They were huddled in the safe house, underground like naked fucking molerats.

The ones that weren’t here were either buried in the ground already or had chosen to leave the state. 

He could hear how frantic everyone’s heartbeats were. Hell, he could even hear how their eyes kept shifting around and the way they kept craning their necks to stare at the only door in the room as they waited with bated breath for the big bad hunters to slaughter them.

Amy can see it too as she stands on the slightly elevated platform that her father and (Y/N) were on as well. She’s just as pathetic as the rest of them.

Deucalion was right. Those who don’t seize power will always be squashed by those who do. 

Where was their ambition? Their goddamn want for survival? Amy’s eyes meet (Y/N)’s.

“They killed your emissary. Strung his headless body to a tree. They killed your pack members one by one, I didn’t think we were supposed to just let them when they cornered us”. “There’s no proof it was hunters,” more murmurs erupt. Victor’s anger wavers and the scent of uncertainty spreads. Victor squares his shoulders and flashes his red eyes. A last-ditch attempt to quell the rising volume of voices. While Amy keeps on staring, entranced at the darkening bloodstains on (Y/N)'s shirt. She watches as his fingers curl — her hearing muffles as she notices how in control he is.

When (Y/N) had come to their pack, he was charming and sweet. Amy recalled Laurel and Lottie — the Linetti sisters, her childhood friends — teasing her when they caught her laughing too hard at a lame joke he made. He’d told them that he had been bitten. Stumbling back drunk from a college party, tackled to the ground by a Rogue werewolf, and escaping with his life and a bite. The alpha had been responsible enough to come back for him to teach you to control, however, something happened to him. You’d been vague, but Victor told Amy how melancholic his eyes were and left that questioning line.

Now.

Now, his eyes were defiant, not melancholic —  hell, not even regretful. Blood still stains his hands and Amy wonders why hasn’t he scrubbed it off like she had. 

How could he stand it? The remnants of someone’s life decaying on your skin. Death lurking still within your shadow. Her breathing turns shallow and she struggles to get more air into her lungs. With every blink, the faces of her dead packmates flash behind her eyelids like fireworks. Dismembered, hung, bled-out, and grotesquely displayed. All works of hunters, according to (Y/N). Amy remembers how much venom dripped from his words as he spoke of them. She assumed the reason was because they killed his alpha. But then, he was so sweet when she wrapped her arms around him to ease that scent of ire away.

He always had such a faraway look in his eyes whenever hunters were mentioned. She saw the same expression tonight after he had mercilessly torn that man’s throat apart. The hunter, who identified himself with the name Charles, confessed he’d only stopped to ask about Victor. It made her tense, (Y/N) however? The man didn’t even pull out the blade he had hidden on him. Charles didn’t even use threats, raising his hands as a white flag as (Y/N) circled him like a starved dog. 

“You know what I do”, Charles says.

“You know what we are”, (Y/N) replies. 

“Listen, I didn’t come here to hurt you, I heard about the killings —  I’ve only come to help”. Amy chews on her lips. He already knew her father by name, and with how antsy everyone already was bringing this man back seemed unwise. “Bullshit”, (Y/N) growls out. She reaches the back of his shirt yet her fingers only grasp air. The next thing she knew, the hunter spun like a ballerina. His throat erupts blood like a volcano.

“We will not go to war with hunters. We’ve done nothing wrong!” Victor bellows. It silences the initial hubbub. The people still spoke through glances. 

“You’re pathetic”, Amy hears (Y/N) hiss out. She reaches for her father's arm but feels nothing but air as Victor grabs the front of his shirt. Victor’s yell caused an instant panic as chairs clattered to the floor and screams bounced from the walls. Amy stayed frozen with her outstretched hand. 

(Y/N) held Victor by his neck, the veins of his arm bulging with more strength than the average shifter possessed. Victor swipes and claws futilely at his hands. His feet kick as they try to find purchase of the floor. 

Sputtering, gasping, choking. 

“This is your alpha?” his voice silences the room all at once. It commanded with certainty and sharpness. “Pathetic. All of you are, but you especially”. Victor’s veins burst in his eyes as the pressure of (Y/N)’s grip builds. Victor feels his claws tear through his ribcage, acutely aware of his fingers effortlessly traveling through flesh. When his claws reach his racing heart, he swears the movement turns kinder. They still pierce through, however, and the sight was anything but kind.

His pack cries out at the sight of him nearly elbow-deep within their alpha’s chest cavity as (Y/N) holds him up. What brutality. 

Victor sees himself in the boys' eyes. His breath escapes him as he sees the webs of crimson turn blue into red. (Y/N) never break his gaze, allowing him at least that much respect even if he didn’t deserve it. The rush he felt as Victor faded away was indescribable.

Ichor flowed through his body, beginning from the hand that crushed his heart. Deucalion wasn’t kidding when he told him how euphoric it was to take another alpha’s power. 

Amy can’t remember what happens next. 

Everything is a blur.

She doesn’t know why her body is so heavy as she crawls toward her father’s and doesn’t understand how time just decides to slow. Blood splatters on her cheeks, blood of the people who had been by her side throughout her whole life. But Amy doesn’t spare them a glance. Even when her ex-boyfriend, Jake, tries to grab her shoulder to take her to safety, she simply shrugs him off.

When his head rolls in her path? She offers a sob but continues to reach Victor.

As she strokes his hair in her lap she’s reminded of (Y/N)’s random disappearances.

Had they even asked for his alibi the nights their packmates got offed? She can only recall defending him when people muttered about the timing of the killing coincidentally beginning when (Y/N) joined the pack.

Laurel and Lottie had been beheaded the night (Y/N) stood her up for their movie date with her. He told her his alarm didn’t go off, and she forgave him when she was promised a more intimate movie date another night.

Laurel and Lottie were rightfully withdrawn after they found their parent’s headless bodies at home. But they did make a show of pulling Amy away from him. Their eyes were distrustful, and Amy couldn’t understand why they never said anything to her.

Did they think she wouldn’t have listened because she was too in love? Was that why they died? Because she was too blinded by his charming smile and funny jokes?

Sound comes to her all at once. Amy stares at (Y/N) 's back as he crushes Rosa’s head with his hands. The floor can barely be seen with the amount of blood and gore on it. The walls with claw marks and broken chairs tossed around in desperate attempts to fight (Y/N). 

“You’re a monster," Amy whispers. The door has bodies piled against it. She doesn’t know how she isn’t screaming as she recognizes every one of their faces. 

“Nah”. His shirt was soaked through. It was like he was bathed in blood. The lights flicker with each step he makes towards Amy. She can’t move. 

Finally, he crouches in front of her, straddling her father’s chest with no remorse on his face.

“I’m just stronger than you."

Amy can’t stand how cocky his grin is. Those sickening red eyes. “I gave this pack chance after chance to get a backbone to kill those hunters. Prove something to me. Show me you were willing to do whatever it takes to survive,” Amy follows his gaze and does nothing to stop her tears from flowing at the massacre.

“You were the ones that dug your graves before you were dead.” She sobs as he grabs her neck.

“Dad, help me, please! Dad!” You grimace, snorting at her pleading as she shakes Victor's shoulders.

“Jeez, at least die with some dignity”.

The last thing Amy felt before she wilted away were his claws deep within her chest, draining her of everything that made her human. She drops to the ground, her cloudy eyes staring at the ceiling right beside her father. 

Kali furrows her brows as Ennis slides a basket of fries and burger over the desk. The potatoes were seasoned to hell and back with cajun and a little limp but appetizing. The burger partially wrapped in foil, however, was less so. The bread was softening —  Kali’s nose curled at the missing chunk.

“Really?” Kali scoffs. Ennis feigns innocence by cocking a brow, swallowing the bite he took rather obviously. She crinkles her nose and slides the food back. 

“Not interested in eating something you already took a bite out of, babe.”

“C’mon, you gotta eat something. Don’t tell me you’re getting your stomach all up in knots over the puppy’s assignment,” she frowns at Ennis’ cockiness. Kali rolls her eyes and pushes herself to stand and walk away from Ennis. Tensions were already high due to (Y/N)’s radio silence. It was understandable considering how hidden Victor's pack was —  they didn’t grow their numbers by being brash and arrogant — but it could also be due to (Y/N) deciding to leave the pack.

He was new to their world. Sure, he was a rabid killing machine when he shifts —  Ennis AND Kali had to hold him back during his first full moon with them, it was not fun —  but he’s learned to control that now. He’s conscious during shifts and no longer mindlessly rampaging around. What if he ‘ wakes up ‘? 

He’s not valuable anyway, Kali thinks to herself. If anything, perhaps the pack would benefit if (Y/N) did flake out and fail. He was no alpha. Who gives a shit about (Y/N). Still, Kali’s not the kind of woman to just worry over insignificant worms so…perhaps Kali did give a shit about them. It’s been a while since she’s had a Beta around. It was nice to finally be an alpha without having to snap their teeth in retort. 

She refuses to acknowledge that she was growing a soft spot for you.

“Do you always ruminate so loudly, Kali?” Deucalion’s voice made her breath hitch but Kali would swear up-and-down it was just him hearing things. He’s sat in the corner of the den, delicately replacing the tip of his cane in the armchair. “It’s about (Y/N),” Deucalion humms as he twists a new blade into place. He lifts it into the light. It glints mischievously at Kali — acting like it hears her every train of thought.  

“You seem to have a lot of thoughts about our dearest puppy,” he says. Kali crosses her arms, facing Deucalion as she stands across from him. 

“Should I tell Ennis about your crush?” His teasing makes her grit her teeth. “As if, Deuc.” He exhales through his nose and then sets the cane down. Interlacing his fingers, he lifts his head in Kali’s direction. She vents her frustrations. “(Y/N) should be back by now. Unless he got roped into the pack and their ideals or ran away from our cause."

She glances out the window of the penthouse they were renting out. Victor's pack would have turned tail and run if they caught the scent of them — this town was just on the border of comfort but still a great distance away. “Well then, that wouldn’t be very clever of him.”

Kali scoffs at Deucalion’s words.

“Has he ever been known to be clever?” 

At that, Deucalion grins. No, (Y/N) wasn’t the brightest tool in the shed. The sluttiest maybe but Kali didn’t have to hear him talk about that. “He should have reported back days ago.”

A sharp ringing sound cuts the conversation short. Her head spun towards the direction of the phone; it was placed in the kitchen area where Ennis was. He picks up, his voice calming Kali's nerves as he answers curtly.

"Hello?"

"They didn't listen." Deucalion feels rather smug as he turns his attention back towards his cane. Kali blinked in surprise, moving one step forward but pausing — she could hear their conversation just fine from where she was.

"They didn't want to fight. Victor led them to a bunker underground".

"How the hell are you calling then? Did they chase you off?"

"And waste a perfectly good mass grave? No. I killed them. The hunters too." (Y/N) can hear Ennis' smile as he asks him about Victor. "He died first."

Kali can't believe her ears. She feels a sense of pride, a laugh of disbelief escaping her. Deucalion calls for Ennis and tells him to relay to (Y/N) about the next steps of their plan.

(Y/N) offers a smile to the cashier, placing his bag of chips and chocolate down. He greets (Y/N) with familiarity, asking him how his night was going and (Y/N) replies with a toothy smile. "Amy craving snacks again?" (Y/N) chuckles. "Yeah, we're having movie night ya' know, can't have that without something to nibble on".

"Did you get that, (Y/N)?" Ennis asks.

"Yeah, I'll meet you there. See you soon." The cashier snickers as he scans the snacks while (Y/N) pockets the burner phone.

"Was that Amy?" He purses his lips, cocking a brow in an almost grimaced expression. The cashier laughs; "I won't tell her. So, where are you meeting her?"

"I'm meeting him at the fancy hotel." He sputters, ears tinged red as he retracts his hand from the snacks he'd been passing off to (Y/N).

"You're fucking gay?" he says in that tone. (Y/N) could only stare at the fallen bag of chips with a long sigh escaping him. "Oh, come on, Bill, I was really starting to like you." Bill's disgust was so obvious it made his red eyes burn. "What the fuck!?" He trips over his feet at the sight, crawling backward to put as much distance as he can.

(Y/N) glances up at the corner, chuckling in amusement as he wags a finger at the unblinking camera. "You said that was broken, right?" "Dude, I — I didn't mean it that way. I swear! I just —" (Y/N)'s teeth snap together. Bill yelps, covering his head. "Yes! Yes! It's broken!" "Good." (Y/N) slides over the counter, ignoring the frightened screams that Bill makes as his boots land on the other side. (Y/N) reaches towards the box of condoms, swiping a few bottles of lube. He grabs the plastic bag, tossing everything in before patting Bill's head as he steps over him. "Men fuck other men, Bill. Get over it."

The hotel looked regal among the other buildings that surrounded it. With its cool beige colour and velvet red curtains. The glass doors had a doorman who was reserving his toothy smiles for guests as he nodded off from where he was standing. There was the gentlest twinkle of light from the chandelier that hung in the lobby. Whilst the downpour cast everything in blue and greys the hotel's interior was a dream. The doorman choked on a snore, his head lifting as (Y/N) walked in. He belatedly rushed out the greeting — (Y/N) offered a reply but he had more pressing matters at hand. He looked out of place. His hair was wet and the plastic bag he held under his jacket made him look suspicious. This wasn't that kind of hotel. The receptionist gives him their most courteous grin, asking him all the usual questions.

"Uh, yeah, I've got a room reserved under (L/N)".

He declined any help to get to the room and when asked if he needed any help with luggage, he simply glanced around with pursed lips. As he closed the door to the room behind him, he let out an impressive whistle at the size of it. Everything about it screamed luxury — it was no Four Seasons, but for a teeny city like this it was pretty damn impressive. It beats living with a bunch of other people his age in a dorm, that's for sure.

(Y/N) tossed the plastic bags of supplies onto the bed. Then, he shed his jacket, making a trail of clothes all the way to the grand bathroom. Deucalion seemed to be proud of him. The thought alone made shivers of pleasure run down his spine.

He rubbed his skin clean, getting the crusted blood under his nail and then the other crevices it managed to seep into. Then, he prepared the bath, just to try to calm himself down as much as he could.

Spoiler alert; when you're pumped up from absorbing the power from every pack member you killed and are now awaiting your alpha's praise.

It proves to be a challenge.

(Y/N) sighed, tossing his head back as he wrapped his fingers around his shaft, chewing on his lower lip. Another hand slides up to grab a handful of his pecs, squeezing and twisting the pert nipple. His knees spread, soapy water jostling around with each movement.

"Fuck," he hisses. Cock twitching and hips thrusting up within the water as his palm attempts to mimic Deucalion's skill. He would be so cruel, relentlessly toying with the mushroom head of his dick until (Y/N)'s sure he might just go insane. Deucalion would lather it in spit or lube or even his own cum, make it sloppy so he can relish in the squelching and whining (Y/N)'s body makes.

Deucalion would stroke and tug and squeeze but the second he feels (Y/N)'s body tensing, the hitch in his breath, the curl of his toes —

"Mfph." He's nearly curled over on himself in the tub. The mouth hung open and fangs appeared. His blood drips into the water as he holds onto the sides of the clawfoot tub.

His cock protests as it pulses and begs for release.

But (Y/N) knows better than to cum without Deucalion's explicit permission. Those " werewolf " lessons weren't just for his survival — Deucalion had a puppy to tame and he'd squeeze in such lessons whenever he could.

Until he finally understood that his body wasn't his.

This cock, this mouth, these nipples, his ass.

All Deucalion's.

(Y/N) catches his breath. His claws scrape the tub as he gulps down his saliva and his self-control.

Somewhere, on the floor of the room, the burner phone rings, and (Y/N) scrambles to get out of the tub. The wet footprints would be someone else's issue to deal with.

Deucalion's voice makes him freeze and for a moment, (Y/N) wonders if he heard his moaning, if he was in this room already.

"I'll be coming tomorrow night, you can enjoy the hotel, think of it as a part of your reward, (Y/N)."

"Will Kali and Ennis come along?"

He hears Deucalion hum in amusement.

"Do you not want them too?"

"...Not tomorrow night. I want my other rewards as well."

I've spoiled him, Deucalion thinks as he spreads his legs, readjusting his posture as his pants grow tight.

"You sound out of breath." (Y/N) knows what he's asking and steels his voice as he confesses that he had rushed to grab the phone from his discarded pants.

"No other reason?"

"No, sir."

"Hm."

(Y/N) walks back into the bathroom, hoping the sounds of his movement could make it easier to muffle the way his heart — and penis — still hadn't calmed down from his jerk-off session.

"I've been good, sir."

Deucalion knows he has, his precious puppy was such an obedient pet. Pliant and limp — addicted to Deucalion's taste.

But his puppy was grown now. He no longer bore those icy blues; he had the same eyes as alphas and he had earned it. Deucalion could never imagine his (Y/N) disobeying him, digging his heels into the ground as he snarls.

He'd seen it, during their first romp together, but that was different.

He never thought he'd see it again; (Y/N) was lying to him.

Not about the job well done. No, not that. But about being good.

"Prep yourself for me, puppy. When I get there, I want you kneeling on the bed, face down and back arched. Arms behind you."

Deucalion is not disappointed. The door to (Y/N)’s room is unlocked. The receptionist had been kind enough to lead him all the way here, flustered at Deucalion's smooth voice as he told them he was expected.

The door shuts in their face and Deucalion's grin is downright predatory at the whine that he hears.

"Champagne?" Deucalion places his cane down, his jacket being trapped over one of the chairs in the room. He picks up the bottle by its neck, taking a whiff of it. He wipes the condensation on the napkin that came with it.

Every move is a deliberate move to ignore (Y/N).

He’s silently watching Deucalion’s every move. His ass was presented and the arch of his back was boudair photo-worthy. Yet, his lover simply turns his back on him and pours himself a glass of champagne.

“You know we can’t get drunk.”

“It was complimentary.” (Y/N) stretches his fingers. His shoulders are beginning to ache from the lack of support. His knees shift on the bed, and the sound causes Deucalion to chuckle.

“Don’t be impatient —”

“Alpha, please.”

His back stiffens. He wasn’t sure why, but he hadn’t expected (Y/N) to whine that title. Perhaps he’d gotten so used to Kali and Ennis who would rather choke on their own blood before calling him in such a way.

To be fair, any alpha would rather be beaten into submission before they do so.

But his sweet (Y/N) wasn’t just any alpha; he was Deucalion’s.

Wholy, fully, unfoundedly.

“I’ve been good,” he says. “Please, alpha. I need you so badly.”

Deucalion inhales and holds it for a moment. It seemed as though he was attempting to regain his composure and (Y/N) can't even fathom a situation where does. So, he turns his face into the pillows, spreading his knees further; he can feel the lube slide down his perineum and his heavy cock. It stains the sheets below him though that would just be the first few stains.

The hotel was going to need to buy a new bedsheet set by the end of this night.

Even with his vision obscured, (Y/N) can sense Deucalion making his way towards the bed. The fine hairs on his body stand in attention as the coolness of the champagne glass traces the outline of his pose. Deucalion can sense the jitters of gooseflesh spreading. He's awfully silent. Cool like the glassware he holds.

"I paid the bunker a visit," he murmurs. (Y/N) gasps as the liquid is poured onto his back, dripping down the curve of his spine and pooling around his neck. It almost tickles him. Deucalion's warm hands place themselves on the globes of his ass. He spreads them, his hot breath contrasting the champagne that trails down.

"You're a masterpiece, made just for me."

His fists shake as Deucalion's dexterous tongue takes a lick off his twitching hole. Deucalion groans, the taste of (Y/N) coupled with the lube and the champagne — it was heaven.

"My perfect monster, my bloodthirsty pet. You must have been magnificent. Did it feel good, darling?"

He nods, shivering at Deucalion's voice, his mouth, his claws leaving red welts down the sides of his body. The bed dips as Deucalion climbs it, digging his tongue deeper where he knows his boy is aching for him.

"S'good, so so good, alpha." (Y/N) tries to turn his head to catch a glimpse of Deucalion. His shoulder was mainly in the way, if he moved his arms he could probably have an unobscured view.

But he knew better than that.

"I wish you were there. I wish you'd seen me — Mfph!" Deucalion's glasses are askew, sliding down further down his nose. Those bloodshot eyes shone in the dim downlight of the lamps in the room. (Y/N)'s mimics it and his mouth feels entirely too empty.

Deucalion's tongue licks up the trails of champagne. He can taste the body soap you used, and a pleased rumble escapes his throat. Oh, he could just take one big bite out of him. He could taste (Y/N)'s need to please, his want to be filled, to be marked, to be claimed.

"I wanted you to see me, show you that I was so good, sir."

He finds the back of his neck and (Y/N) shudders. His lips trace the pumping pulse. His teeth drag along the vital junction of arteries.

One bite and Deucalion could end his existence.

(Y/N)'s never been so hard in his life.

Breathy moans are Deucalion's prize as he kisses and bites (Y/N)'s skin, leaving indents of his teeth —only sometimes breaking through the skin — and loving bruises.

His puppy's shuffling and shifting grow. Just like his frustrations. He backs up his plush ass onto Deucalion's pant-covered crotch. Then, he grinds and rubs — dirtying the front with lube.

Deucalion grips his hips and (Y/N) is reminded of the first time Deucalion gave him that handjob, that soul-stealing kiss; he thinks it's ironic.

"I thought I was supposed to be rewarded." There was the faintest whisper of a growl that followed his pout.

Ah, there it is.

That hardheadedness that all alphas get. The urge to raise your hackles and lick your teeth at the slightest whiff of displeasure. The urge to protect, to destroy —all that strength you've found yourself with comes with heightened emotions.

"Temper," he reminds with a flash of teeth. Deucalion's chest is pressed to his back; his knees are next to his calves.

"All good things come to those who wait —"

(Y/N)'s fingers curl on the loop of his pants and he tugs. It makes Deucalion lurch forward, bracing himself with his elbows.

"I've waited for weeks, pretending to be someone else and fulfilling your mission. Then, I waited for 24 more hours — I've waited enough."

His scent had more heat now. Much like Kali and Ennis'. A stinging sensation floods his nose. (Y/N)'s anger is simmering beneath his skin. Deucalion finds his indignation nothing shy of disrespect.

It was expected. But somehow, it grinds his gears nonetheless.

"You impatient little whore." Excitement thrums through his veins. (Y/N) turns his face away from Deucalion, hiding that pleased grin that turns into a shocked expression. His fingers are so long as they plunge into him.

"Oh, fuuuck," (Y/N) keens. His mouth hangs open as Deucalion pistons those digits in and out. They seem angry.

Good.

They should be.

Deucalion fucks like a beast when he needs to let off steam.

Exactly what (Y/N) needs to dispel this thrumming energy he has that makes him feel like he's a pin drop away from massacring the whole town.

Deucalion seems determined to punch out those pathetic "uhuhuhs" from (Y/N) with his fingers alone.

Two at first, then three, and when the fourth breaches (Y/N) tries to climb further on the bed. So Deucalion grabs his wrists and holds him there. (Y/N)'s fingers twitch and spasm, desperately grasping at whatever they can as he feels himself get spread by Deucalion.

"Yes, yesyesyes — Alpha, it feels s'good, t'good!"

' Look at him, writhing and moaning. Making sounds that would make a prostitute blush, ' a voice in his head leers.

God, he feels so tight. Gripping onto him like he never wants him to go —like he never wants to be empty anymore. Deucalion can feel something scratch at the surface of his skin. He could visualize the beast with its maw open and hungry.

When he pulls away from (Y/N), the boy drops like a puppet with its strings cut.

His chest heaves, eyes blearily gazing on the nightstand as he tries to make sense of why he is empty.

He doesn't need to wonder for long.

Deucalion is on top of him again, this time with his shirt off and his pants unzipped. His heavy cock grinds between (Y/N)'s ass. The slightest friction against his rim has him mewling.

The teeth of the zipper feel uncomfortable and the material of his pants digs into the backs of his thighs make him squirm — but when Deucalion's cockhead catches?

(Y/N) all but sings for him. There's pressure as Deucalion presses and presses and presses and —

Oh.

(Y/N) melts into the sheets. Deucalion's cock is fat and heavy, skinnier at the tip but thickening out at the base. His tip was a pretty shade of dusty pink and the veins that decorate the sides of it feel so good on his tongue. Deucalion slides in easily, his puppy taking him so smoothly as his velvety walls welcome him.

It takes everything inside of him not to give in. He sheaths himself until his hip is flushed against his plush backside. Despite the whining and desperate grinding, Deucalion simply pushes on his shoulder and presses down.

"I spoil you," Deucalion snarls. "Do you know how lucky you are to be able to act the way you do, demanding rewards as if you're in charge?"

His hips draw back and slam in. It has (Y/N) yelping as his ass jiggling from the force.

"You forget yourself. Every inch of your body is mine." Deucalion's pace is relentless. He pounds into (Y/N) with such power behind his hips it has the headboard banging into the ceiling.

Poor puppy. All he could do was grasp onto the bedsheets, ripping them as he jerked back and forth. His cock rubs on the bed while his rim stretches around Deucalion's cock.

His eyes roll back as he moans wantonly, toes curling and thigh shaking at the feeling of Deucalion taking him.

"Alpha — Mghah! Your cock feels suh-so good, s'fuckin' good," his voice calls for Deucalion's name but, Deucalion feels that beast again.

How dare he? Ordering him around. Stomping his foot on the ground like a petulant brat. Had Deucalion not showered him with enough care and devotion? Had he been inadequate in providing (Y/N) with everything he needed?

Something primal within him felt a need to prove something. To show (Y/N) that no one else could compare to him, the Alphas of Alpha. So his scent of displeasure completely disappears because it isn't fading as quickly as Deucalion would like.

"Hgkh!?"

The cock inside of him swelled.

Like.

Actually swelled.

(Y/N) tries to push himself onto his elbows but the hand on his back grows heavier too and the springs of the mattress creak in protest. There's a ripping sound, not the bedsheets although considering how split open he felt right now, (Y/N)'s sure the sheets could be a culprit.

But no, it isn't that. It's Deucalion's pants.

A grey-blue hand comes into his peripheral and (Y/N) only has a second to comprehend what's happening as it pulls him up so he's flushed against Deucalion's chest.

"Fuck! Fuck! Your cock — It's — Ah!" Deucalion laughs darkly as (Y/N) sobs openly. His tight little hole was being stretched open, it was as if Deucalion's cock had doubled in size and (Y/N) isn't even sure how it hadn't split him into two.

"You wanted your reward so badly," his voice was rougher. It was as if his vocal cords weren't meant for talking in this form. That seemed likely. Deucalion has an arm wrapped around (Y/N)'s neck while the other keeps him steady by holding his hips.

"Wah - What are you — !"

The demon wolf bites into (Y/N)'s shoulder. It makes him open his mouth in a silent scream as his cockhead relentlessly pounds into his prostrate. "Take it then. Take all of it like the greedy little slut you are."

Deucalion laps up the blood and his mouth guards the slowly healing wound, not letting the cool air sting it.

He can tell his puppy isn't there anymore. His head tossed back and eyes screwed shut as his cock spurts rope after rope of cum.

But his alpha wasn't done.

Deucalion stills for a moment, grinding his hips in a way that has (Y/N) breath stuttering.

"Deuc, Deucalion," he gulps as he desperately tries to get air into his lungs.

Then, Deucalion presses onto his stomach and (Y/N) feels his eyes roll back again.

"Oh shit!"

"I'm right there."

He didn't have to tell him; (Y/N) can feel it. Every press down has him seeing white again and Deucalion licks his teeth as his puppy cums again, impressed.

"S'fucking deep." Deucalion groans as (Y/N)'s shaky hands reach back to hold onto his shoulders.

Deucalion feels him tighten around him and he cums with a snarl that has (Y/N) mewling.

Even with his cock plugging up his hole, rivers of cum manage to leak and froth around Deucalion's cock.

"Fuh-fuckkk."

(Y/N) sniffles, feeling so full and satisfied and warm.

His relief is short-lived.

Deucalion's cock hadn't softened at all. He opens his mouth to ask — ask if he could pull out so he could see Deucalion's Demon Wolf form rather than just feel.

But he's pushed into the mattress again, Deucalion's large hand nearly dwarfing his head as he pulls out and thrusts back in with a loud groan.

"I'm not done with you yet, puppy."

Deucalion is diligent as he wipes away any traces of cum on his skin. The sun had risen a couple of hours ago and they finished just shy of it peeking up. (Y/N)'s body was a mess of claw marks, bites, and hickeys. Hand-shaped bruises on his waist, his ass, the back of his thighs; all slowly fading away but Deucalion feels such a deep satisfaction as he traces the scar that he had left on his shoulder.

He sure had done a number on his lover — not unprompted. Deucalion pauses as (Y/N) twitches, curling and twisting under the covers until he's comfortable enough to still.

With the light flooding in, he can make out the silhouette of his precious one. It's shaky and ever-shifting but there...there, he can see him,

The curve of his shoulders, the dip of his back, and those legs he could spend hours worshipping.

Deucalion lets his eyes attempt to make sense of the planes of (Y/N)'s face.

The slope of his forehead, his nose, and kiss-swollen lips...

Deucalion wipes his chest preciously, gazing down at him even with the sunrise view he had mere meters away if he lifted his head.

No. The sun pales in comparison to his (Y/N).

Deucalion presses a kiss to his lips, whispering a confession. "I'll kill anyone who gets in our way, anyone that lays their hands on you will regret the day they were born, (Y/N). What I would do just to see you...you'll never know."

[gulnarsultan]

Deucalion is yandere for you.

[sethistired]

Tagged By: @not-a-bot-just-shy

Last Song: Covet by Basement

Favourite Colour(s): Black, white and red. (I’ve bought books just because they had these colours as their cover 💀)

Currently Watching: The Internet’s Darkest Corners by Nick Crowley

Last Movie: Elemental (2023)

Currently Reading: A Game of Thrones (1996)

Sweet/Spicey/Savory: Savoury! As a southeast asian, my spice tolerance is considered pretty bad according to my family and friends and sweet things are great but they always make me super jittery(?) so my safest bets are always savory foods.

Relationships: single and looking? IDK, I’m coming to terms that I‘m m-spec polyamorous but with how anti-LGBTQIA+ my country is I think that’s something I’ll deal with on my own. 💀

Current Obsession: Drawing compositions and anatomy but also Game of Thrones, Sally Face and Spiderverse!

The Last Thing I Googled: Binders! I’ve bought really cheap ones before and they’ve not been very kind to my chest, so I was looking for some better ones.

Currently Working On: I’ve got several OC sheets I’ve been doing! Some gifts for friends as well as drafts for TikTok stuff. Currently, I’m writing several fics as well but focusing on the Deucalion X reader one!

No pressure tags: @capybar00 and anyone else who’d like to participate!

9 people you'd like to get to know better

Tagged by @steven-grants-world <3

Last song: Fascination / 101 String Orchestra (bc of @runa-falls and her lovely drabble)

Favorite Color: green (especially sage/forest)

Currently Watching: Moon Knight, The Mandalorian, Ugly Betty, Daredevil

Last Movie: oh golly I think it was In Secret (2013), I'm still blushing

Currently Reading: Stardust by Neil Gaiman

Sweet/Spicy/Savory: savory, I love a good soup 👌

Relationship Status: singling and terrified of mingling (the men on my phone can't hurt me if this is the only app I use)

Current Obsession(s): Oscar Isaac, Pedro Pascal, Across the Spiderverse, MOON KNIGHT

Last Thing I Googled: Dead Again (1991)

Currently Working On: a paint-by-number, chapter 3 of Last Night (my jake lockley/reader fic) finally unpacking from moving in July 💀

No pressure tags: @virtie333, @dowbastan @awakeandlonely, @howellatme, @suddenlysteven, @arrozyfrijoles23, @readerthatreadsss, @ssp3ctor, @crescentbelle

[way-2-bored]

Y/N: You remind me of someone I once dated

Liam: Were they smart, funny, and drop-dead gorgeous?

Y/N: More like obnoxious, annoying, and a pure dumbass

Isaac:(from across the room): HEY! WE'RE STILL DATING WHY ARE YOU TALKING IN THE PAST TENSE Y/N: That's the part you chose to focus on???

[fanficteen]

The One He Couldn’t Kill (1)

deucalion x reader

“Go on, then.” 12 months he’d kept you. You didn’t know why. It’s not like there was a time limit on murdering your Betas. So it was his own sadism, then. 12 months of letting you believe he wanted you. Letting you learn and grow and master these new talents. Letting you fall for him. Then the others had come knocking. You stood there, chin held high, as they all watched. Deucalion couldn’t see, but you knew he was watching you anyway. He always was. “Kill me.” He didn’t move, hand still resting placidly on his cane, as silence fell in the room. “No.” Even the other Alphas were surprised. You could smell it on them, even if you hadn’t seen their widening eyes, their falling smirks. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting. You just raised an eyebrow. Silence ticked by. “You said it yourself,” Kali insisted, lowly. “No Beta has a place in our pack. We must be strong.” “I will not kill her.” Still, no reason. You could feel the question in the air, but no one dared speak it. “Fine,” one of the other Alphas growled. “If you won’t kill her, I’ll do it for you.” She launched forward, faster than you would have even seen before, but now. Now you knew she was coming. You caught her wrist and tightened your hand around it, letting it crunch under the pressure. She screamed, throwing out her other hand, but yours was faster. She choked, a sick, gurgling sound, as your claws tore through her chest. The others stared. You pulled your hand out, flesh pulsing within it, and dropped her. She crumpled. Deucalion didn’t even flinch when she fell at his feet. Ennis growled, but Deucalion’s cane flicked out to stop him moving forward, as you opened your hand and dropped her pulsing heart onto her corpse. “That’s not possible,” one of the twins mumbled. “You killed her,” Kali realised, aloud, eyes flicking from the corpse to your bloodied face. “If I die by one of your hands,” Your eyes glinted black. “It will be by his and no one else’s.” “You are an Alpha now,” Deucalion pointed out, lightly. His offer remained unspoken. “I may be a killer, but I won’t murder in cold blood.” They didn’t stop you leaving.

“And even little (Y/N).” Scott exchanged a confused glance with his pack as Gerard spoke, but they all stared blankly back at him. A low growl behind him, and all eyes fell on Deucalion, who was still clenching his teeth as he pried a wolfsbane bullet from his arm with his long claws. “Ah, that’s right. The girl the Demon Wolf couldn’t kill.” Gerard chuckled. “Say hello.” “I’ll tear your fucking throat out and then Deucalion’s,” you snarled, teeth bared and eyes flashing black. “Face it. Wolfsbane hurts but even you don’t know how to kill me, old man.” He shoved an electric arrow into your ribs and you bit back a scream. He would not get what he wanted from you. With a huff, Gerard granted you the satisfaction of seeing frustration in his eyes when he picked his speech back up.

“Who the hell are you?” It was an Argent that held you at gunpoint, but he smelled distinctly of the pack. “I could ask you the same, Argent.” He raised an eyebrow. “I have the gun.” “Fair point.” You smiled, despite yourself. “(Y/N) (L/N). You must be the wayward son.” “Chris.” Three other men approached behind him. “What’s going on?” It was the tallest one speaking, but your eyes fell on the youngest. “You must be the Hellhound.” His eyes widened. “Who the hell are you?” You and Chris both snorted when the Sheriff spoke. “Leaving.” You gestured to them. “I was going to clear out the guns, track them back. But you seem to have it under control.” You looked back at the Hellhound, then grabbed his hand. They all tensed, but made no move. You plucked a pen from your hair and scribbled your number. “If you need underworld assistance.” “… I wish that still sounded as illegal as it should,” the Sheriff sighed.

“Not so fast, Tamora.” In all her looking behind, she had forgotten to look ahead until your hand had already closed around her throat. Her eyes widened, breath gasping, hands scratching uselessly at you. “Please. It’s over,” she tried, desperately. “Just let me leave.” You smirked, bitterness burning through you. “Let you leave? Like you let my pack leave?” You could see your memories mirrored in her eyes. The teen girl you’d saved, choking on a wolfsbane bullet. Two Betas who had chosen to join you, fading slowly before your eyes. Even your Emissary slaughtered. Your claws ripped through Tamora’s throat, and you dropped her, letting her head loll, until your foot came down and separated it entirely. You left her there, following the scent of the Alpha. You pushed the library door open, leaving bloody handprints in your wake, and unfamiliar faces stared out at you, one familiar in their midst. You met Deucalion’s healed eyes, and smiled. “Well, I’m not sure if I should feel sorry for whatever poor fool you tricked into helping you.” You wiped your stained hands on your pants. “…I take it you’re (Y/N),” the young Alpha concluded, eventually, holding out a hand. “And you’re the True Alpha,” you returned, looking him up and down. “Scott McCall.” Your eyes flicked through his pack, before returning to him as you took his hand. “I have no quarrel with you.” Your eyes settled on the redhead. “A banshee. How rare.” She couldn’t seem to decide whether to bristle or to smile. “There’s a Hellhound, too.” “The Demon Wolf speaks!” you exclaimed, dryly, but didn’t turn to Deucalion’s voice. “I met the Hellhound already. He has my number if you need anything.” “You could stay,” the Alpha offered. The others raised an eyebrow, except the banshee, who was looking curiously at you. “We could always use more allies.” Your gaze drifted to Deucalion, but he was as unreadable as always, though you didn’t even know what you were looking for. “I can’t.” “You’re mates,” the banshee realised, aloud. You felt yourself go rigid, but didn’t bother to stop it. “No. We could have been.”

“You could stay.” You could almost have laughed. And you tried to, but the tears in your eyes changed its meaning. “What, so this time you can look me in the eye and carve out my throat? Look me in the eye and break my heart?” You scoffed, turning away. “We already lost each other once, Deucalion. I won’t do it again.” “Neither will I.” Part of you wished he knew he was lying, like you did. Another wept for what could have been. Some final, traitorous part of your heart believed him. The young Alpha looked to his pack and led them out. “You can have a home here,” he offered, before he closed the door. “If you want it.” You couldn’t bring yourself to turn back to Deucalion. “I can never be the good man I was once.” You heard him moving closer, heard his heartbeat troubling his chest. “But I am better than when you knew me. I will be better. For Scott and his pack.” His hand came to your shoulder, and you didn’t resist as he spun you to face him. “For you, if you’ll let me.” “Why do you deserve that chance?” His pale eyes thrilled through you. “I don’t.” At least he was honest. “But I will work to earn it.” “You made me a killer.” His eyes wandered to the blood on your hands and he nodded, silently. What could he say to that? There was no denying it, as you both stood in the aftermath of what he did, and what you did with it. You shook your head and turned away. He didn’t follow you.

The pack jumped, guiltily, as you exited the library to find them all crowded around the door. You raised an eyebrow. “Looks like you could use someone to teach you some manners, pups.” Scott smiled, sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re staying, then?” The banshee was a bright one. You hummed, thoughtfully, looking over them all. “Yes.” A true smile broke out on Scott’s face. “But not for him.” It was the banshee who smiled this time, stepping up to offer you her hand. “I’m Lydia,” she introduced, easily. “You can stay with me for now.” Deucalion followed you out, but didn’t say anything. “You’re opening your home to a stranger?” You glanced at your hands. “And a killer?” “That bitch just tried to kill me and all my friends.” Her lip gloss smile sharpened, something cold and harsh in her eyes. “If you hadn’t killed her, I would have done it myself.” The pack’s jaws dropped, but the werecoyote just grinned at her friend. You smiled. “I like you.” “You need a shower and a new outfit,” she responded, brightly, then glanced down at herself and around her companions. “We all do.” Scott nodded. “Head home, everyone,” he agreed, taking the werecoyote’s hand. “We’ll talk about everything after we’ve had some rest.” “And food,” the human added, as you all headed for the exits. “God, a pizza sounds great right now.” “Only you could be thinking of food right now.” “Shut up, Sourwolf.”

a/n: an old draft, hopefully to inspire me into writing again

[reveluving]

just a nip ; peter hale x reader x deucalion

summary: you don't understand your husbands' obsession with your fangs, and you most certainly don't question it.

warnings: some s~mut (kinky husbands, so minors DNI!) + soft & sweet!

a/n: more of our fav canine duo and their vamp wife! had this lil' idea for MONTHS so I had to let it out eventually hhhh don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading the series? check out the m.list!

» smut includes; kinky soft dom husbands, unprotected sex (p in v), petnames ('pretty girl', 'sweetheart', 'angel'), mentions of making a facial mess, mild edging & punishment??

'A sight that they will forever treasure.' ;

Their obsession with your fangs goes beyond your expectation but for different reasons. Peter likes the surprised look on your face whenever he sticks his finger in your mouth as you yawn the way an owner would to their cat. Whether you’re in a jolly mood or going through your worst day so far, you can’t help but share the amusement he has for his habit. Deuc, on the other hand, is no stranger to doing the same but often, in a more, intimate setting. If you happened to be riding his cock? Oh, it riles him up like no other. He’ll be straight-up kinky; shoving a finger or two in your mouth to lightly run them across your little canines. He’d be smug, especially if you’re staring back into his eyes as yours glow unnaturally, wishing you could wipe the smirk off his face. 

That’s not to say they’re not in the mood to switch; Deuc loves seeing your pupils contract into slits as he teases you about your cat-like behaviour the same way Peter enjoys feeling your fangs when you go to town between the sheets, but you can tell they have their own preference over the other. 

But there is one in particular that despite never admitting it, not especially amongst each other (at least, not outwardly) is ingrained in their heads, a sight that they will forever treasure.

They have a love-hate relationship with the way you bite down on the pillow/sheets, almost shying away from one's heated gaze and obscene praises while the other growls in your ear as they pound into you from behind.

"Such a pretty, pretty girl."

"Aw, was that a little shiver I felt? You love it when I growl in your ear, don't you?"

"Don't close your eyes, sweetheart. I want those pretty eyes in me when I cum all over your face."

"You better not cum just yet, angel. You remember what happened the last time when you came without our permission, don't you?"

On one hand, they get off on the fact that the usually level-headed and sometimes bashful mother of the pack is losing herself in the sheer pleasure that only they can offer, but on the other hand, they wish to hear you scream at their mercy. Either way, they just loved how submissive you looked.

Absolute menaces.

» gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

a/n: I hope my ian/gideon enthusiasts are doing fabulous, y'all better take care, ily! 🫂❤