#to be a werewolf is to know something bad is going to happen | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

solelifauna · 1 month ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 2)

Hi guys, I’m alive. I’ve just been sick and then found out that my dog’s cancer spread and the surgery costs $3,000 which is insane. Anyways, I’ve been working irl so I completely forgot about this account. Sorry pookies🤕🙏.

If anyone wants to know I’m still taking commissions, and if my price doesn’t work for you I’m sure I can lower it!! Honestly, I’ll write for whatever price I’m lowkey desperate.😭🙏

The next morning, you wake up in panic, shit, you slept in. You rush out the manor forgoing breakfast, almost eating shit on the sidewalk in your rush. You hop onto your bike, pedaling as if death itself was chasing you, huffing and puffing. Thankfully you make it to school on time, if only just on time.

You fall into your seat just as the bell rings, letting the top half of your body crumple over the desk.

“Looks like somebody had a rough morning.” The familiar voice of one of your best friends.

“Fuck off Quinn.” You huff out tiredly.

“Fine, then I guess this extra black coffee I got at Gloria’s is going to waste then.” She said teasingly.

How is it that she always has impeccable intuition about these things?

You groaned sitting up, giving Quinn a tired look.

“Yikes, I was gonna make another smartass joke but you look like you’re about to keel over.” She said worriedly, handing over the extra coffee.

“Ha ha, yeah I feel like I'm about to keel over. Thanks for the coffee by the way.” You said dryly.

“Don’t sweat it girl, but–uh, what the hell happened.”

“Too much dude, too much. It's so much bullshit I don't even know where to start.”

“Im guessing its about–”

“Ding, ding, ding, you got it.”

“Shit…how bad? They’re not gonna… you know…” Quinn stutters off.

“Kill me? Eat me?”

She nodded.

You massage your forehead, a headache forming between your eyebrows. “I'll be so for real right now, I don't even know.”

“Damn, I don't even know what to say to that.” Quinn grimaces.

“It’d be weird if you did.” You joked giving her a sardonic smile.“Well if they’re gonna kill me, I hope they do it before finals.”

“You’ve got issues (Y/n).”

“I’m aware.”

Just then the chatter in the class started to pipe down as your history teacher, Mr. Lechliter, made his way into the room. However, something wasn’t right; his usually neat hair was in disarray and you could smell that he was profusely sweating. He was nervous, which was completely out of character. Sure Mr. Lechliter was awkward at times but he was normally confident and loud around the class, something was going on.

“Good morning, class,” Mr. Lechliter began, but his voice was shaky, not at all the usual booming tone he used to command the room. “I-uh, hope you’re all ready to jump into… um, well, history.” He swallowed hard, glancing around as if searching for something—or someone—outside the door.

You look at Quinn with a raised eyebrow. What the hell is happening right now?

“We, um, actually have two guests who’ll be auditing a couple of classes today so we all want you guys on your best behavior. For our sakes and yours.” He said fidgeting with his paperweight globe, however, it was what he whispered under his breath that had you worried. What the fuck did he mean by that?!

“These guest speakers are one of the school's top sponsors so I truly cannot express the need we have for you all to behave and be on task, understand?” Mr. Lechliter spoke gravely.

The class let out a scattered “Yes” whilst others nodded. Now it was the class's turn to start getting nervous, the energy in the room now becoming quite grim. Seeing the class’s cooperation, Mr. Lechliter let out a shaky smile and nodded back at the class in approval. You sipped your coffee nervously in tandem.

“Good. Now, without further adieu, please welcome the esteemed Bruce Wayne and his son, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.”

And in walked your worst nightmare as you choked on your coffee. A hesitant applause began as a couple of heads turned your way, including the scrutinizing eyes of Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake.

“Jesus Christ (Y/n), are you good?” Quinn whispered, patting your back.

“Does it look like I'm good, Quinn?” You whisper-yell back.

“Sorry, dumb question.”

“I legitimately can't do this right now.” You groan out quietly.

Tim’s sharp, calculating gaze landed on you, and for a split second, his lips twitched upward in what looked disturbingly close to satisfaction. Bruce, however, kept his gaze steady, stoic, making his way to the front of the class like he owned every square inch of the room—and maybe, in a way, he did.

Bruce stepped forward, greeting Mr. Lechliter with a firm handshake before addressing the class. “Good morning,” he said, his voice carrying a smooth authority. “It’s always a pleasure to see the next generation of Gotham’s finest minds, and today, we’re here to discuss some unique opportunities with Wayne Enterprises—partnerships, scholarships, and mentorship programs that may be of interest to you in your future studies.”

Meanwhile, Tim’s gaze remained fixed on you, a silent warning lingering behind his polite smile. You swallowed hard, avoiding eye contact, hoping that blending in might somehow make you invisible. But Tim had no intention of letting you off the hook. He leaned slightly closer to Bruce, murmuring something that made Bruce’s eyes flicker in your direction, his expression unreadable.

Quinn leaned over, her voice barely a whisper. “(Y/n), what the hell is going on? They keep looking at you.”

“Trust me, I wish I knew,” you muttered back, managing to take a sip of coffee without choking this time. “They’re just here to make my life a living nightmare, apparently.”

As Bruce and Tim began their presentation, outlining all the “wonderful opportunities” that a connection to Wayne Enterprises could bring, you couldn’t help but feel trapped. Every line, every subtle glance, seemed like a reminder that escape from their influence was impossible. They were inescapable, even here, in the one place you thought you could breathe.

When they finally wrapped up their presentation, Bruce offered to answer questions, his gaze settling on you for the briefest moment, as if daring you to speak up. You just nervously looked away, its fine, they’ve said their piece and will be leaving soon.

But of course life doesn't ever go the way that you want.

The relief that had started to settle in evaporated as Bruce and Tim made no move to leave. Instead, they took seats at the back of the classroom, settling in with that same poised, assessing presence that dominated every room they entered. Bruce folded his hands in his lap, his gaze steady and inscrutable, while Tim casually crossed his arms, his eyes tracking every student’s reaction, but always coming back to you.

You swallowed hard, glancing at Quinn, who was now just as unsettled as you were. “Are they… staying?” she whispered, her brows knitting together in worry.

“Looks like it,” you muttered, barely moving your lips.

Mr. Lechliter, visibly tense under the weight of their scrutiny, resumed his lesson with all the grace of a man on the edge of a breakdown. Every time he stumbled over his words or glanced nervously at Bruce, the room felt as if it held its breath.

“This, um, particular era in history…” Mr. Lechliter began, stammering slightly as he struggled to keep his usual confident tone. “It’s a time when alliances shifted often, and there was…constant jockeying for power…”

Bruce and Tim watched, expressions neutral, but you knew better than to believe their act. They weren’t here for any genuine interest in educational standards; they were here as a reminder, a warning that the Wayne influence extended beyond the manor walls.

You focused on your notebook, pen tapping anxiously against the paper as you tried to tune them out and take frantic notes. But it was impossible to ignore the cold prickle at the back of your neck. Every glance felt like a needle, each second stretching longer than the last.

Mr. Lechliter’s lecture painstakingly continued on for another thirty minutes before class started coming to an end.

The bell finally rang as you shot up out of your seat and practically sprinted out the door. You head to your locker, feeling the many starters of students and teachers bore into you. Another thing was that everyone kinda knew that the Wayne’s didn't like you, it was very obvious. Which meant the media had a field day, letting the entirety of Gotham know how much the famous pack hated you. So now your business was also aired out to the entire world to know. Wonderful, am I right?

You shove your unneeded books into your (tbh, very cutely) decorated locker, while grabbing the science textbook you needed for your next class, AP Biology. This class was the absolute bane of your existence. Not only was the content hard, the teacher was also absolutely nuts. You walk over to your Bio class, clutching your books like a lifeline. “Please, dont be here too.” You pray to yourself. Thankfully, this class was normal, well, as normal as it could get. The other two classes you have before lunch ended the same way, Wayneless.

As your fourth class comes to an end your stomach starts to growl. You’d be embarrassed, but everyone else in your class was in a similar starved state. When the lunch bell goes off, you’re excitedly grabbing your things and making your way down. Fucking finally it was lunchtime. You made your way to the quickly growing lunchline

Your friends were already sitting at your usual table as you made your way over and slammed your lunch tray on the table.

“Im gonna kill myself.”

“I can't even say anything about that.” One of your other friends Daniel says.

You groaned holding your head in your hands, your headache becoming more prevalent as you turn to look at him.

“Man all I did was ask to leave, and now this shit? I can't even right now.”

“You finally asked to leave, huh? I'm guessing it didn't go well.” Daniel asks.

“Nope, but when does anything ever go right in my life.”

Just as you finish talking, the noisy cafeteria falls abruptly silent. The usual clatter of trays and chatter of students fades, replaced by an almost eerie quiet. You and your friends exchange confused glances before turning to see what—or who—could possibly have silenced a room full of teenagers. But in the pit of your stomach, you already have an idea.

Sure enough, walking through the entrance are Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne, looking completely out of place in their immaculate suits and composed expressions. Their powerful, calculating gazes sweep across the crowd, searching for someone, before both of their eyes zero in on you and your table. Instinctively, you tense up, your shoulders hunching as if to make yourself smaller, and you feel the flush of embarrassment heat your cheeks under their scrutiny.

Their focused stares make you flinch, and you quickly look away, facing your friends once more. “See what I mean?” you mutter under your breath, trying to keep your voice steady. “It’s like the universe is out to get me.”

Daniel raises an eyebrow, glancing between you and the Waynes, a flicker of worry passing over his face. "What are they doing here? This isn’t normal, right?”

“No, it’s definitely not,” you reply, trying to keep your tone casual even as your heart races. “They’re here to make a point.”

You further slump into the table, arms cradling your head as the cafeteria slowly starts to go back to its normal noise level. Both Tim and Bruce take a seat at a table opposite to where you’re sitting, which gives them a perfect view of your table. Great.

“Guys talk to me. Anything–talk about anything please.” You beg quietly.

Quinn leans in, glancing nervously at the Waynes across the cafeteria. “Uh, did you hear about Chief Keef performing soon? Apparently, he’ll be in Gotham.”

Daniel nods, catching on to your plea for distraction. “Yeah, yeah, I heard he's gonna bring another artist on stage. Mauve Travis or something if we’re lucky?.”

You smile weakly, grateful for the distraction, even if your heart’s still pounding. You try to focus on what they’re saying, but you can feel Tim’s gaze on you like a laser, scrutinizing, watching every movement. You pretend not to notice, grabbing a fry from your tray and nodding along to whatever Daniel and Quinn are saying, forcing yourself to join in with a half-hearted laugh here and there.

Quinn suddenly brings up a story from her last weekend, trying her best to lighten the mood. “Okay, get this—I tried to impress this guy by pretending to know how to skate, but instead, I ended up flat on my face in front of, like, everyone. Mortifying, but he did buy me a smoothie as a consolation prize.”

You chuckle, letting the story pull you out of your anxious thoughts. “I mean, sounds like it kind of worked. You got a free smoothie, right?”

Quinn laughs, rolling her eyes. “Only because he felt bad, but hey, I’ll take pity smoothies.”

The laughter at your table grows, the lighthearted moment almost making you forget the ominous presence of Bruce and Tim nearby. But just as you’re starting to relax, you catch a glimpse of Tim’s amused smirk from the corner of your eye. His eyes don’t leave you, as if he knows exactly how unsettling his presence is and he’s reveling in it.

“I think he liked you,” Daniel teases Quinn, keeping the conversation going to help ease your nerves.

“Liked my bruised ego, maybe,” she snorts. “Anyway, what about you, (Y/n)? Got any secret admirers?”

You shake your head, grateful they’re keeping the focus off your current predicament. “Nope, unless you count the cadaver frog I accidentally dropped on my lab partner. He, uh-didn’t look at me the same after that.”

Your friends burst out laughing, and for a brief, blessed moment, you almost feel normal again. But when you glance back, Bruce’s eyes are still on you, cool and unyielding.

“Here’s to hoping they’re gone after lunch,” Daniel mutters, catching your uneasy glance.

“What good has hoping ever done me?” You sigh, picking at your food.

The tension in the cafeteria never fully fades. Despite the attempts from Quinn and Daniel to keep the conversation going, the presence of Bruce and Tim just continues to overwhelm you. Every so often, your eyes flit toward them, only to find them still seated, still watching, and their expressions betraying nothing of their true intent. It feels like they’re waiting for you to make a move, to react in some way that would justify their unsettling attention.

Lunch drags on in this uncomfortable limbo until, at last, the bell rings, signaling the end of the break. Your friends gather their things, offering small words of encouragement or supportive smiles, though they too look wary of the Waynes’ lingering presence.

“I’ll see you both in Chem. Hopefully Mr. Domzalski isn't still in a bad mood from what happened yesterday.” You say.

“You mean from when you and Daniel set fire to one of his textbooks?” Quinn questions sardonically.

You and Daniel offer her a sheepish, guilty smile.

“Hey–it was an accident!” he exclaims, feigning offense.

“Yeah, what he said! We followed all the instructions to a T!” You defend as well.

“Sure, whatever you both say. I'm just surprised he didn't automatically fail you two.” Quinn says fondly.

“It’s ‘cause we’re somehow his favorites? Don't ask me how or why though.” You respond.

As you and Daniel chuckle, the lightheartedness helps lift some of the weight that had been hanging over your head. The relief is short-lived, though, as you feel a prickle on the back of your neck—a feeling that’s become all too familiar lately.

You glance back to see Bruce and Tim still watching, and for a moment, something in Bruce’s gaze changes. You can’t quite read it, but it feels sharper, like he’s calculating, considering something he hasn’t said. You swallow, gripping your bag tighter as your friends move to head toward class, unaware of the silent tension hanging around you like a cloud.

You head to your APA Algebra II class alone, without the usual buffer of Daniel or Quinn’s lighthearted banter to ease the tension. The classroom is quiet, a different atmosphere from the lively lunch period, and you’re able to slip into your seat undisturbed, hoping that the math problems ahead will give you a welcome distraction.

As the class moves on, you find yourself lost in equations, the numbers and formulas acting as a temporary refuge from everything else. You keep your head down, concentrating on the work, grateful for the momentary peace that academics bring.

When the bell rings, signaling the end of Math, you gather your things and head to APA Chemistry, where you’d finally reunite with Daniel and Quinn. When you arrive in APA Chemistry, the atmosphere is surprisingly relaxed. Mr. Domzalski hasn’t arrived yet, so everyone’s just hanging out, chatting about weekend plans, or joking around. You plop down next to Daniel, who’s already doodling on his notebook, and give Quinn a tired smile. It’s nice to have a few minutes to unwind before the usual controlled chaos of Mr. Domzalski’s class kicks in.

Then, the door swings open, and you freeze as Mr. Domzalski steps in with Tim Drake following close behind. Your stomach twists, and you have to swallow down a groan. Thankfully, Bruce is nowhere to be seen. Small blessings, you suppose; better not to question it too much. You look at your friends, trying to convey your annoyance with a single tired look as Mr. Domzalski beams with a sort of overdone excitement that sets you on edge.

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome a special guest,” he says, practically brimming with enthusiasm. “Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, is here to observe our class today.”

You sink lower in your chair, stifling a grumble. Great, just great. This whole thing was growing stale fast. You try to ignore the interested murmurs spreading through the class as everyone stares at Tim, who stands there with that same polite, professional smile he’s been flashing all day. You avoid eye contact, focusing instead on the edge of your desk as Mr. Domzalski continues.

“Now,” Mr. Domzalski goes on, shifting his focus to the lab materials, “before we dive into today’s lesson, let’s review what went wrong in yesterday’s lab.”

He shoots a pointed look in your direction, his smile still in place, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s not exactly thrilled. “For those who might need a reminder,” he continues, not-so-subtly side-eyeing you and Daniel, “improper handling of materials led to one of my textbooks, which I cherish dearly, being set on fire.”

The class erupts into quiet snickers, and Daniel coughs into his hand, trying to disguise his laughter. You roll your eyes, but a smirk tugs at the corner of your mouth. Even Tim’s eyes change a bit, as if interested.

Mr. Domzalski clears his throat, regaining the class’s attention. “Let’s aim for a little more caution today, shall we?”

The lab for the day was going to be more complex than usual. Mr. Domzalski, with a edge of nervousness in his tone, began rattling off the new, more complicated instructions. His gaze flicked to you and Daniel more than once, lingering just long enough to make his message clear: Please don’t mess up.

You slouched slightly in your seat, already feeling the weight of the unspoken pressure. It wasn’t lost on you how much was riding on this lab going smoothly—not just for your grade, but for Mr. Domzalski himself. With Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises and a member of one of Gotham’s most powerful packs, observing, any mishap could very well put your teacher’s job on the line.

Next to you, Daniel caught your eye, his lips twitching into a wry smirk. He leaned in, whispering, “Feel like we’re walking on eggshells today, huh?”

“More like a minefield,” you muttered back, eyeing the lab equipment warily. The setup looked far more intricate than usual—beakers and flasks stacked alongside pipettes, Bunsen burners, and an array of unfamiliar chemicals. It was a recipe for disaster, and you had no intention of being the one to set it off.

Tim, seated at the back of the room, watched the proceedings with his usual cool detachment. His presence was like a weight pressing down on the room, amplifying every minor sound and movement. You could practically feel his gaze on you, even when you weren’t looking his way.

“Alright, everyone,” Mr. Domzalski said, clapping his hands to gather the class’s attention. “Remember to follow the instructions precisely as they’re written. This is a delicate experiment, and precision is key. Any deviation could—well, let’s just say we don’t want any surprises today.”

The pointed glance he sent your way at the word “surprises” made you cringe internally. You shot Daniel a look. He seemed to get the message, giving you a small nod before turning his focus to the materials in front of him.

With a deep breath, you adjusted your goggles and got to work, determined not to give anyone—especially Tim—a reason to criticize.

The lab was rough from the very start. No matter how tightly you adjusted your goggles, they kept fogging up, obscuring your vision at the worst possible moments. You constantly had to pause to wipe them off, and each time, you felt Tim's Gaze flicker towards you. Daniel, meanwhile, was no better. He almost tipped over a vial of some unpronounceable chemical twice, and each time, you barely managed to steady it before disaster struck.

“Bro you have to lock in.” you said under your breath.

“I'm trying–fuck. My hands are too shaky.” Daniel whispered back, nervous as he tried held out his hands for you to see. He carefully set the vial down, only for his elbow to nudge another piece of equipment. You caught it just in time, your heart leaping into your throat.

The instructions seemed to come at lightning speed, Mr. Domzalski rattling off steps faster than you could write them down. Each new instruction layered on top of the last until your head was spinning with measurements, temperatures, and reaction times. You were doing your best to keep up—you think you were doing it right—but the constant noise and movement around you made it feel like everything was closing in.

You glanced at the flask on your workstation, bubbling faintly as it was supposed to, and double-checked the temperature. It seemed fine. Probably fine. Hopefully fine. But the nagging thought that you might’ve missed a step wouldn’t go away.

Behind you, Tim’s silent observation was like a shadow, adding another layer of stress to the already chaotic atmosphere. Every time you caught sight of him out of the corner of your eye, you swore his expression was unreadable, yet somehow judgmental.

“I think this is right,” you muttered, glancing at the next step in the instructions and adjusting your setup.

“‘Think’ isn’t reassuring, (Y/n),” Daniel replied, he was nervous. “Don’t blow us up, okay?”

“Not funny,” you snapped, though your lips twitched in a half-smile despite the stress. “Just keep stirring before we mess up the timing.”

The rest of the lab dragged on in a haze of nervous energy and frantic adjustments. Your hands trembled slightly as you measured out the final chemical, careful not to let even a drop spill. When you finally completed the experiment, the mixture in the beaker turned the correct pale blue color, and you let out a shaky breath of relief.

“See?” Daniel said, flashing you a grin. “We nailed it.”

You gave him a tired look. “Barely.”

As Mr. Domzalski approached to check your work, you held your breath, praying there wasn’t some detail you’d overlooked. When he gave a curt nod of approval, you finally relaxed, though your nerves still felt frayed. Even then, you could feel Tim’s eyes on you, as if silently appraising every moment of your struggle.

The lab was over, but the stress lingered like a heavy weight on your shoulders. You packed up your materials with shaky hands, grateful to escape the pressure of both the experiment and the unrelenting scrutiny.

As the class wrapped up, Mr. Domzalski passed by your station, his sharp eyes flicking over the completed experiment. The pale blue liquid in the beaker must have been just right because, instead of his usual critical remarks, he gave a subtle nod and a quiet, “Good work.” The words weren’t overly enthusiastic, but coming from him—and especially with Tim Drake watching—it was as close to praise as you could get.

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you let out a long sigh of relief. You and Daniel exchanged a look, his triumphant grin mirrored by the faintest smile you allowed yourself. You’d passed. Somehow, despite the foggy goggles, Daniel’s near-disasters, and the relentless pressure, you’d made it through the lab unscathed.

As you finished cleaning up, Mr. Domzalski gave you a brief, silent glance of thanks. It wasn’t much, but you knew what it meant: he was grateful you hadn’t turned today’s experiment into another headline-worthy incident. You nodded subtly back, grateful that the ordeal was over.

With the last of your equipment put away, you grabbed your bag and escaped the lab as quickly as possible, the weight of Tim’s lingering gaze finally lifting as you stepped into the hallway. Quinn was waiting by the door, chatting with Daniel, who was still buzzing with post-lab adrenaline.

“Well, looks like you didn’t burn down the school,” Quinn teased, grinning as she fell into step with you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you muttered, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself. “We’re still alive, so I guess that’s a win.”

“Hey give us more credit.” Daniel chimed in, earning a laugh from both you and Quinn.

As the three of you headed for the stairs, you said goodbye to Daniel, who was heading to a different class. “See you later, guys.” he said, waving as he turned down another hallway.

You and Quinn made your way toward the gym for your seventh period, the final class of the day. The familiar chatter and clang of lockers greeted you as you stepped into the changing area. Gym wasn’t exactly your favorite class, but after the stress of the lab, it was almost a relief to have something physical to focus on instead of the constant mental strain.

“Think they’ll leave you alone for the day?” Quinn asked as you pulled on your gym shoes.

“I hope so,” you replied, your voice weary. “I can’t handle any more of this. It’s like they can’t even wait to-to…you know.”

Quinn grimaces. “Yeah, I know.” But she smiles back at you, as if tying to make you perk up. “Well, at least we’re doing dodgeball today, you should blow off some steam.”

You huff, amused. “Mm, maybe nailing Farah in the head with a dodgeball would do me some good.”

“Straight on bitch, that girl needs to be humbled.” Quinn says.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “At this point, I’ll take any excuse to hit something.”

The two of you stepped into the gym, the sound of sneakers squeaking on polished floors and the buzz of students warming up filling the air. It wasn’t the easiest day, but at least the end was finally in sight.

The day finally winds down as you head to the locker rooms to change. The smell of sweat and disinfectant fills the air as you and the other students shuffle to your lockers, exchanging the occasional half-hearted quip about how much of a drill sergeant Coach Walker was today. You change quickly, eager to escape the lingering humidity of the gym, and sling your bag over your shoulder just as the dismissal bell rings.

Joining the tide of students heading toward the front exit, you fall into step with Quinn, chatting idly about homework and plans for the weekend. The sprawling line of cars in the pick-up area is already forming, parents eager to whisk their kids away from the chaos of the school day.

Daniel spots you both as he weaves through the crowd toward his mom’s car, parked conveniently near the front of the line. “Guess that’s my ride,” he calls, swatting your shoulder playfully. “Try not to miss me too much tomorrow, I've got a doc's appointment.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Yeah, yeah, you wish asshole.”

“Later!” he shouts, hopping into the passenger seat of his mom’s car as it pulls away. You and Quinn wave after him before continuing toward the pick-up zone.

“Alfred here today?” Quinn asks, glancing around at the cars idling nearby.

“Probably not,” you reply with a shrug. “Haven’t heard from him, so it’s probably just me and the bike today.”

Quinn nods, her attention already shifting to a car pulling up in the distance. “Looks like my dad’s almost here.”

You glance toward the pickup area and spot the familiar vehicle inching closer. “Cool. Guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yep. Don’t get mugged on the way home,” she jokes, smirking as she adjusts her backpack.

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence,” you reply with a laugh. With a quick goodbye, you head toward the bike rack to unlock your trusty two-wheeler.

The quietness of the parking lot is a stark contrast to the noisy chaos of the day. You crouch down, fiddling with the combination lock on your bike, when a hulking shadow falls over you. The sudden shift in light is enough to make your instincts bristle, but you stay focused on the lock, rolling your eyes at the interruption.

“Bro, if you’re lookin’ to mug me,” you say without looking up, your tone flat and unamused, “you should know I’m skint broke. Try some other bitch.”

The air around you seems to thicken with tension, and you feel the unmistakable weight of someone’s gaze boring into you. It’s enough to make you pause mid-turn on the lock, your breath catching as a low, familiar voice responds.

“I sure hope you’re not talking to me?” Comes your father, Bruce’s, deep voice.

Your head snaps up, and your breath catches in your throat as you realize it’s not some wannabe punk standing over you.

You pale instantly, the color draining from your face as you meet his icy blue eyes. His expression is unreadable, but the weight of his gaze is suffocating. The sheer presence of him—imposing, cold, and unnervingly silent—makes your stomach churn with dread. Your heart pounds in your chest as you scramble for words, your brain tripping over itself in panic.

“Oh—uh, Mr. Wayne—I didn’t—I mean, I thought…” you stammer, trying to cobble together an explanation and an apology all at once. Your hands fumble with the lock on your bike, suddenly feeling clumsy under his scrutiny. “I—um—sorry! I thought—uh—someone else—”

He raises an eyebrow, the tiniest shift in his expression, but it’s enough to make you flinch. You straighten up, clutching your bike for dear life, feeling small and utterly exposed under his towering figure.

“I see,” he says finally, his voice calm but laced with that undercurrent of authority that makes it clear he’s not just seeing. He’s assessing.

“I didn’t realize it was you,” you blurt, trying to salvage what’s left of your dignity. “I thought it was, uh, someone else. Someone trying to—um—mug me?” The excuse sounds weak even to your own ears, and you wince inwardly at how ridiculous it must sound.

Bruce’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you make a habit of mouthing off to strangers you assume are threats?” he asks, his tone deceptively mild.

“N-no, sir,” you stammer, shaking your head quickly. “I just—I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s been a long day, and I wasn’t thinking—”

He holds up a hand, cutting off your rambling. “Enough,” he says, “I’m here to pick you up. Alfred’s occupied.”

Your mouth opens, then closes, as you try to process his words. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that Bruce might be the one picking you up today. Of course, the thought of him going out of his way to do so hadn’t even crossed your mind, it wasn’t like he ever went out of his way for you before.

“Oh,” you manage after an awkward pause. “Right. Thanks.”

You still have your conversation from the previous day in mind.

“Come on,” he says, turning without another word. “We’re leaving.”

You hastily shove your bike into the back of his sleek black car, your movements hurried and uncoordinated under the pressure of his presence. Sliding into the back seat, you notice Tim sitting in the front passenger seat, looking at you through the rear mirror. You avert your gaze, clasping your hands tightly in your lap, trying not to fidget as the engine purrs to life. The air inside the car is thick with silence, broken only by the occasional click of the turn signal as Bruce maneuvers through traffic.

You steal a glance at him, his expression as stoic and unreadable as ever. Despite the tension knotting your stomach, you force yourself to speak. “I—uh, thanks for picking me up,” you mumble, staring out the window.

Bruce doesn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed on the road. When he finally speaks, his tone is even but firm. “We’ll talk when we get home.”

Your throat tightens when you see Tim's glee filled smile, as if a cat had just caught a canary. You nod mutely, knowing there’s no point in arguing. Whatever he has to say, it’s not going to be pleasant.

[Hope you guys liked the chapter!! I'm sorry for the delay and the ghosting, more fics will be updated trust!! Also thank you to all the people who were checking on me, I really appreciate it!!]

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yanderedrabbles · 3 months ago

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THE SINNERS WELCOME YOU TW: noncon and yanderes ahead

Hi! I'm val and this is where you can find everything I've written. Maybe bring protection? These boys are not nice.

Requests: closed for now

Current Anons: 🍪, 🐰, ♥️, 🐧, 🧷, 📌, 📮, ⚙ 🤖, 🍯, 🦚, 💵, ⭐, 💗, 🌙

What I won't write about: pregnancy

Art & Doodles

Yandere Witch: She adores anything cute and turns you into a plushy just to cuddle.

You on a shelf You getting cuddles

Yandere Fairytales

Dark and sinful, these stories are from a time long ago. When the gods still walked the earth and when monsters wore the skin of men and when a bride could still be built out of wishes and blood.

In a time and place far, far away...

The North Wind fell in love

A sorcerer turned a witch wicked

Drabbles, Imagines & Oneshots

Not so honourable after all: Drabble about princes and heroes with rotten hearts.

Yandere Actor: The Golden Age of Hollywood. Stars are born every day and you're desperate to become one.

Yandere Yakuza: When your brother gets himself deep into debt, one yakuza is surprisingly willing to help you get him out.

Yandere Bisexual Best Friend: He just wants what's best for you. If he has to tell a few white lies now and again, then so be it.

Come for me: Drabble about yanderes who force pleasure on you for their own sick enjoyment.

Yandere Pirate Captain [dubcon] A naive aristocrat's daughter, you're crossing the Atlantic in a heavily guarded ship. Pirates assume guns and guards mean treasure but when all they find is you, they decide to make the best of their luck.

Yandere Werewolf: There's something terrorising your town every full moon. And a stroke of bad luck has you running into it more than once.

Yandere Sugar Daddy: Money can't buy love, but maybe it doesn't have to.

Yandere Cyberpunk Mercenary: A ruthless mercenary and you, his spoilt little prize.

Letters from a Yandere Vampire: A handsome stranger seems intent on courting you but his letters hide a darker secret.

The worst sort: Drabble about the most sleazy and perverted type of yandere.

Cheat on me please: Your boyfriend just won't let you break up.

Lovesick Dogs: Drabble about poor fools who love like wretched dogs.

Yandere Mobster: Chicago - 1931 The Height of Prohibition The mafia is earning top dollar smuggling alcohol into the country. And one mobster has his eye on you.

You wouldn't reject him, would you?

Yandere Gladiator: A man can become a god in the arena. But all he fights for is you.

Yandere Cyberpunk Riot Control Officer [noncon] There's nothing he hates more than degenerates and rioters. When he gets his hands on, he's going to pound some law and order into you.

Cyberpunk Yanderes: A little drabble about neon soaked streets and criminals with their eye on you.

Cyberpunk Yanderes with an oblivious country Darling

Yandere Greek Champion x Priestess Reader [noncon] He was chosen by the Gods to slaughter, to strike down all who stand against him. Your city has fallen at last and he has come to claim his prize.

Exploring his villa Finding you asleep

Yandere Stalker/Cop: A vicious stalker has been terrorising you for months. Luckily, your friendly neighbourhood cop is around to comfort you.

Yandere Apocalypse Survivor: The world you know is dead and gone. And he's the only reason you're still alive.

Yandere Soldier [noncon] He knows what he's doing is wrong, but if he closes his eyes, he can convince himself that your muffled cries are moans for him to keep going.

Yandere Soldier - Stockholm Syndrome: It was bound to happen eventually, right?

Softcore Yandere Boyfriend: A guy who has every yandere urge in the book and is trying very hard to be normal about it.

Yandere Boyfriend Surprise Party: How does your Yandere! Boyfriend react when you start acting distant and keeping secrets from him? Yandere Boyfriend as a husband: He might be jealous of the kids but shhh. Way of the yandere house husband: More things your hubby does for you. Yandere Boyfriend as a gym buddy: You're his favourite kind of cardio. Yandere Boyfriend x Coquette Reader: You can put bows on him if you ask nicely.

Yandere Cowboy [noncon] He just wants a roll in the hay. It doesn't matter if he has to hold you down to get it.

Yandere Cowboy - Proposal: Does he ever learn to be sweet with you? Yandere Cowboy - Jealousy: You're his girl and he ain't gonna stand around and let some other bastard steal you away. Picking wild flowers with him If you try running away before your wedding

Yandere Cop [noncon] All you want is to get home after a midnight shift and relax. But a State Trooper pulling you over on an isolated stretch of road is more than you bargained for.

Yandere Cop - Baby Trapped: You're stuck in a position where you just can't say no anymore.

Yandere Ganster x Mafia Boss Reader: He's your loyal dog. Now and always.

Yandere Ganster - Jealousy: For the first time, he sees you be physical with another man. And he's trying his hardest not to punch the bastard right in the mouth. Yandere Ganster - Rainy Days: After a difficult job, he comes back soaked and shivering. Naturally, you think of a few ways to warm him up.

Yandere Desert Bandit [dubcon] When planning to cross the desert, all travellers are warned about the bandits. Heartless, they're called. Brutal. Inhuman. So why has one of them fallen in love with you?

Yandere Desert Bandit - Aftermath: Son of the sand, his touch isn't gentle. But perhaps he can learn. Will he ever be a father? Would he honour his word?

Yandere Incubus x Nun Reader [noncon] A new priest had joined your convent and you can't help the sinful thoughts you have about him.

Yandere Academic Rival: He'll do whatever it takes to be the best.

The Yandere Boys

Who's your yandere soulmate? [Quiz - coming soon] Their favourite positions Their kinks What are their homes like? What do they look like? When you're sick/hurt yourself Which Yandere boy is the most manipulative? If you cheat on them Their body preferences If you refuse to eat If you try and leave them If you're bisexual Yandere Christmas Special What sort of cars do they drive? Who is the cruelest? Who is the kindest? What kind of clothing do they find provocative? Would they ever share you with someone else?

Misery - a short story [in progress]

Based on Misery by Stephen King

Stuck in the mountains, you foolishly decide to drive through a blizzard. The man that drags you from your wrecked car brings you to his cabin and patches you up. But as the snow piles up outside, you start to suspect that your rescuer's intentions may be far from pure.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Upcoming Works

Yandere Roommates [dubcon] With your boss mysteriously firing you and your job applications getting lost in the mail, it's no surprise that you can't afford rent this month. Lucky for you, your roommates have a very generous offer.

Yandere Wild West Sheriff: Ain't you just the sweetest lil thing?

Yandere Dictator: He's a high ranking member of the ruling party, with all the wealth and power denied to the working class. And when he says he wants you, that's exactly what he gets.

Dairy of a Vampire: You've found a strange book in your husband's library, and on closer inspection, realise every entry is all about you. [Sequel to Letters from a Yandere Vampire]

Yandere Aztec Warrior x Āhuiyani Reader: His body is sworn to war and yours to pleasure. How strange, that you find comfort in each other.

Yandere Sugar Baby: It's not uncommon for a wealthy, older woman to take a younger lover. But the way he looks at you isn't normal at all.

Yandere Witch Hunter x Witch Reader: In a last ditch effort to save yourself from execution, you cast a love spell on the town's witch hunter.

Yandere Aliens [noncon] Human women are the most prized slaves in the galaxy, and when your ship crashes on an unknown planet, it's inhabitants are keen to find out why.

Yandere Southern Gothic Cowboy: He doesn't come to church and you never see him out in the sun. Who exactly is this stranger?

Yandere Rockstar: He's a rockstar punk who wants to fight the whole damn world. But all his songs seem to be about one special person.

Yandere Dragon x Princess Reader: This fairytale isn't what you expect.

Yandere Slasher [noncon] With all your friends dead and no way to escape, you offer the killer something else in exchange for your life.

Yandere Ex-boyfriend [noncon] You wake up to a ship over five hundred million kilometres away from your home planet and an ex desperate to prove his love.

Yandere Pirate x Mermaid Reader: You've seen her time and time again, leaning against the stern and staring out at the horizon. She always seems so melancholic. Maybe a song will help?

Yandere Soulmate: So what if you don't always get along? So what if he leaves bruises on bad days? You're meant to be his and he's not letting you go.

Yandere Firefighter: You owe him your life. Aren't you going to repay that debt?

Yandere Stripper: Beautiful, confident, deadly. When she says she wants you, she won't take no for an answer.

Devil Dogs always bite: A green card marriage to a US Marine ends badly. [omegaverse]

#yandere imagines #they just want to feel good #even if it means hurting you #no isn't really no #if he can't hear you through the gag #yandere lemons #yandere x reader #yandere drabbles #yandere #masterlist #yandere noncon #yandere scenarios #reader insert #yandere oc

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werecreature-addicted · 8 months ago

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Ok, imagine this, werewolf is in love with his neighbor, a human girl, everything would be fine if it weren't for the fact that the girl is a single mother of a little boy, and I'm not saying this because it's a bad thing for a woman to be a single mother, I'm saying this because of their neighbors, the other human neighbors have the mistaken idea that werewolves are cruel to other men's children, even propagating the absurd idea that werewolves kill the children of other males when they are interested in the mother. Of course our werewolf would never do that, werewolves would never harm a woman's offspring, so he has to be very careful and almost transparent to be able to woo the girl without her thinking that he is a danger to her or his little son

he meets your child first. he's just trying to carry in groceries, all of them in one trip of course, when he hears a small "can I help?" he looks down and sees a human pup with big wide eyes and a missing front tooth. He'd known that knew people had moved in next door a little while ago but he didn't know they came with a kid.

"Sure," he says and hands the kid one bag to carry as they trek up the driveway. it's a short walk and he can easily do it himself, but the werewolf thinks the boy is cute, so young yet already helpful and determined to prove his strength. what a good pack leader he would be one day. the kid drops the bag by his door and then runs back to his yard to play. The werewolf had never paid much attention to his next-door neighbors but he would start now.

He meets you a few days later and wow. he's never met a human so pretty. you seem nervous, a little frazzled from the recent move, but sweet. he tells you about your son helping him with the groceries and offers to help you any time you need anything, just looking for an excuse to see you again.

And you do need his help a lot around the house. it's hard trying to do everything yourself especially when you're raising a little boy. Luckily your neighbor is always there whether it's to replace some shingles on your roof or just play with your son for a little so you can get five minutes to yourself. you won't lie, you do pick specific favors to ask of him. sure you could do your own yard work, but there's just something so sexy about a sweaty hard-working werewolf.

He's so sweet he almost instantly becomes a part of your life. You can tell he's interested in you, you're not an idiot, and you'd be lying if you said you didn't like him too. It's flattering to have someone clearly so into you even knowing you have a child.

You spend of late nights confiding in him and before you know it you start to think you're falling for him. then you happen to mention your blooming romance to one of your coworkers and they inform you, horrified, that if a werewolf is interested in a woman with a child they're known to kill the child so the mother can focus on raising the werewolf pups. The story chills you, you'd heard similar things about lions in the wild, and maybe it was true for all preditors.

you can't help but spiral a little bit, you've been leaving your baby alone with a hungry wolf. but... somehow you don't believe it. He had never shown himself to be violent or even anything but loving towards your son. and you knew he was closer to human than some wild animal. he wouldn't really do something like that, would he?

When you get home you're a little jumpy around your neighbor, which he notices. you don't let your son go over to his yard to play and you don't invite him over for dinner, which is odd, to say the least. but he doesn't push. You feel stupid, avoiding him like this, why should you be scared of someone who'd been nothing but kind?

you go out onto your porch that night and see him out looking up at the stars. when he hears you he waves you over.

"it's a pretty night," you comment sitting beside him, awkwardly.

"prettier with you here," he teases, you feel your face go hot and you have to look away, he laughs at your embarrassment. you're quiet for a long time before you finally bring up what was on your mind.

you don't come out and say "Hey are you going to murder my child to get closer to me?" but instead you ask him:

"you flirt with me a lot, but does it ever bother you that I have a child? does that make you hesitate to have a real relationship?" it's still blunt but it's not quite as accusatory.

"I've always wanted kids, I love your son, I'm not going to run because of it, I want you and you having a son doesn't change that," he assures you. A few months later you'll admit exactly what your coworker said, he was horrified you ever thought he'd be capable of hurting the boy he views as his son, and he tells you in no uncertain terms that he would die to protect the both of you. no harm is coming to either of you while he's here to protect his family.

#monster imagine #monster #monster fucker #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader #werewolf #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend

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saturnscafe · 1 month ago

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͙˚ ༘✶Big Bad Wolf | Werewolf Boyfriend? (Female Reader)

Smut Below

A/N: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s a little longer than I anticipated however I just adore it. I hope you all will enjoy it as well!

-🪐

He was known as the as the asshole of the college. Always picking fights and going after anyone who even dared breathe in his direction. He stood tall, muscular with scars that decorated his face and arms. His wolf ears standing at attention but not listening to anything that was around him. Everyone avoided him like the plague even you. However today had other plans.

You were sprinting down the hall, trying to get away from some asshole who couldn’t take no for an answer. When you ran face first into his broad chest. He was ready to say something to you until he saw the other man that trailed behind you. He grabbed you by the waist moving you to behind him before locking eyes with the other guy.

“Get lost” he said in annoyance. The other guys eyes looked over at you then back at him. Was he really willing to pick this fight?

“Dude Kyzer relax, just- just let me get my girl and we can forget any of this happened” the man said trying to grab for you.

Before you knew it he had the guys arm twisting it. “I said.” He growled. “Get lost”. His grip on his arm tightened nails digging in before pushing him away. The other man admitted defeat walking back with his tail between his legs.

Kyzer looked at you glaring down at your shaken body. “You good?” He asks surprising you even more. You don’t respond though, mind still in flight mode. He placed his hand under your chin lifting it up to look at him “hello? Are you good?” He said sternly.

You quickly nod snapping back to reality “yeah- yeah I’m good, sorry. Uhm- thank you.” You rambled out. You swear you saw a smile creep on his face but it was quickly gone.

He cleared his throat “if he tries anything again uhm?” He said hinting at you to tell him your name.

“Oh, uhm y/n” you said.

“If he tries anything again y/n, you come to me yeah? I’ll put his ass in the ground” he said with a twisted grin before walking off.

What was that? Was he actually nice? Or did you just catch him on a good day? No matter you went about your day. Going home and studying before getting the idea to bake him something to say thank you. Maybe he wasn’t so bad? Maybe this could be a way to get him to open up? But why did you want that? You scratched your brain, shit- did you like him? No, no that’s crazy. You still baked him something treats to take to him, hopefully he liked cookies.

The next day, you found him in his usual spot. Sitting at the tree while he ate his lunch. He looked peaceful as he ate, listing to some music and flipping through a book. You were so nervous to approach him but you did. Tapping him on the shoulder he turned his head quick. Ready to scream at whoever dared to disturb his peace. Until he noticed it was you, he tilted his head a bit like a puppy.

“Sorry for bothering you- I- uhm- made you these. As a thank you” you said sheepishly handing him the small container of cookies. He blinked, processing what you just said. No one’s ever really shown him much kindness. Even for doing something good like he had for you. So to say he was taken aback was an understatement.

“You made these for me?” He asked repeating your words.

You nod smiling at him shyly. “Yeah, if it wasn’t for you I- I don’t know what would have happened” you admit.

He felt his cold heart warm, pounding so loud he thought you could hear it. He looked over your face trying to read you. Fuck were you this cute yesterday? “Thank you” he said taking the container. He opened it right away the smell of the cookies making him sigh happily. “They smell delicious” he said smiling down at them.

He’s smiling? He’s smiling! Your heart skipped a beat seeing his pretty smile. Those sharp pearly whites of his made your body warm. Your face must have been red cause he couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re cute” he said. It slipping past his lips before he could even stop himself. The compliment only making your face turn more red.

“I- uhm- thank you” you said feeling like you could puke at any second from the butterflies. “You’re not so bad yourself” you said with a smile.

His face started turning red, before he quickly turned away. “You uhm- you like movies?” He asked feeling stupid at his question. When you nodded his words came out fast “you wanna watch a movie later?” Fuck why’d he say that, his place was a wreck.

“Sure!” You said smiling like a dummy. “I just got a new system, we could watch it at my place?” You said.

“Cool, cool. What’s your number? So uhm- I can get your address” he said trying to play it cool. After exchanging numbers your alarm for your next class goes off making you jump. “I’m guessing no horror movies if you jump that bad from a phone” he teased.

You rolled your eyes “I’m gonna be late, I’ll text you my address. 7 sound alright?” You ask.

“Perfect” he said.

And you were off, sprinting to your next class.

His mind twirled with the thought of you. Fuck what did he get himself into? He doesn’t talk to many people nor has he ever had an actual relationship let alone a date. Sure he’s had his share of hook ups but that’s about as deep as it went. What the hell was he gonna do?

When the time came he stood outside your door taking a deep breath before knocking. When you answered his heart raced, here you were in sweats and a hoodie. How the hell did you look so good? When he walked in the smell of you overflowed him almost making him dizzy. You guided him into the living room where you had a bunch of blankets on your pool out. You were gonna be on a pull out bed. A bed. The two of you. His cock twitched in his pants at the mere thought of it.

“I’m sorry my place is a bit of a mess, but I got the couch all cozy. Oh and I have a bunch of snacks if you’re hungry” you said with a shy smile. He nodded following you to the pull out, when he sat down the scent of you was even stronger. Probably from all the covers you gathered from your bed. “Wanna watch a horror movie?” You asked flickering through the movies on the tv.

“Sounds goo- wait” he said looking at the screen. “You like that show?” He asked seeing a show you were watching earlier. It being one of your favorites.

“Uh yeah! It’s like one of my favorites I’m rewatching it since the new seasons gonna be coming out” you said smiling.

“No way! It’s one of my favorites, I’m super excited for the new season! I even have a poster of it in my room!” He rambled. It was cute seeing him all excited over something he liked. Seeing his cute smile light up.

“Maybe when the new season comes out we can have a watch party? I’ll make us some dinner and we can binge watch it” you said.

“Sounds perfect” he said back. It felt nice being able to talk to someone. To have something in common with you too.

You both decided on a movie, getting all covered up as it started. He was nervous to move closer to you but you were feeling a bit bold so you Scooted closer. Your shoulder touching now bodies close to one another. The scent of you driving him crazy more so now that he could feel your warmth. He moved his arm, to finally wrap around you “uhm- is this ok?” He said softly.

You nodded “aren’t horror movies the best ones to cuddle up too?” You said laying your head on him.

“Is that why you picked it” he said back in a teasing tone.

“Maybe”

“In that case why don’t we lay down in cuddle hmm? I mean we got this whole bed in all” he said with a smirk.

He was surprised that you instantly moved letting him lay behind you so you could both could watch the movie properly. He took his spot behind you wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body as close as he possibly could. His hand rested on your waist holding you tightly. His mind swirled with your scent god how was this happening to him?

A few minutes passed as you focused on the movie. Being painfully aware of the man behind you as he pressed himself against you. You could feel his girth cock pressing against your ass and you couldn’t help yourself. Grinding back against him, he let out a groan barely audible if it weren’t for him being so close. The sound of him turning you on way more than you thought it would. He didn’t stop you though, letting you rut yourself against him. Finally getting some friction.

His hand that was resting on your waist squeezed at every movement. You could hear faint ‘fucks’ coming from him only driving the want higher. The movement of you paired with the sweet smell of your dripping cunt was becoming too much for him. His hands hooked your at your pants “can I take these off?” He said softly.

You nodded letting him rid you of your sweats and your panties. He pushed his pants down after taking yours off. His big cock springing free finally. You could finally feel how big he truly was, fuck did you want him. His hands glided down your body moving your leg over his. His long fingers pressed against your needy nub making you whimper. His face was nuzzled into the crook of your neck as he licked up it.

His fingers lazy played with your clit before roaming further down. He couldn’t believe how wet you were, how wet you were for him. His fingers finally pushed into your dripping core curling ever so nicely. His movements were just as lazy, his thumb pressing against your clit once more. His mouth watered at the smell of you. He needed to taste you, and he needed to do it right now. With no warning he pulled himself from you quickly moving his body down yours.

He dived into your cunt, tongue quickly pushing into your folds. The moan you let out made his cock twitch. It was already leaking like a faucet ready to be buried inside you. “Fuck you taste even better than those cookies you made me” he said. His hands hooked around your legs pulling you closer to him as he ate you out like a starved animal. His tongue pushed deep inside you twirling around your tight walls. Your hands gripped at anything before gripping at his hair. You tugged on it softly making him groan “pull- ah- harder” he said. Of course you listened, tugging on his hair harshly pushing him somehow deeper into your cunt.

He felt like he was in heaven, fuck this must be heaven. Your cunt clenched around his tongue, knowing you were close he moved his hand to toy with your clit yet again. It didn’t take long after that for you to cum. Your body arched off the bed moans getting trapped in your throat only breathes making it past. He lapped up any of your sweet honey that dared to escape. Licking you clean before moving upwards to you. He kissed you messily. His cock head poking at your entrance.

Without any thoughts you moved yourself down letting his thick cock push into you. The stretch wasn’t bad, in fact the slight pain felt good. “Sh-shit” he moaned against your lips.

“Please- move” you whined out bucking your hips into him. His eyes met yours and what a sight to see. Your eyes were glazed over, cheeks flushed red. Fuck did you look so good. He blinked a second before everything sunk in. Your warm walls squeezing him so tightly. He started to move slowly before picking up speed.

His hands moved down pushing your shirt up. You quickly helped taking it off as he took his off too. He was delighted to see you didn’t even have a bra on either. His hands roamed your plush body, pinching at your perky nipples. He was quickly losing himself in you. His movements were becoming faster as his high was reaching near. “God you feel so fucking good, was this your plan all along huh? Get the big bad wolf all alone in your house to fuck you like a wild animal?” He teased.

“You- ah- you started it. You’re the one that was pressing there big dumb cock against me” you retorted.

“Can’t- can’t help it when you smell so good” he said back.

His movements were slowing down a bit making you whine. “Getting tired already? Need- ah need me to ride you?” You said with a grin. You felt his cock twitch at your words oh he definitely liked that idea. He wrapped his arms around you before lying flat on his back. Your legs straddled him the new position making him feel even deeper. His hands laid on your thighs those sharp nails digging into the soft skin.

As much as he wanted to show you how much of a big bad wolf he was he couldn’t help it. You were just too much for him, he was like some puppy dog that you had wrapped around your finger. When you finally got your feet in a proper spot you started moving. Bouncing up and down on his stupidly big cock. His knot forming as if his against your entrance. He watched as your tits bounced with every movement. His long tongue hung out of his mouth drool pooling with it.

“Fuck- just like that- ah” he moaned out. “Gonna let me knot you? Fuck please let me- need- need to breed you- ah- ah” he was such a mess under you. Your legs shook at the sight of him at his words. An orgasm washed over you without warning. Your body felt almost limp as it laid on top of him.

“I’m yours-“ you said in almost a whisper against his chest but he heard it. Oh boy did he hear it loud and clear. His hands gripped at your ass, fucking up into you with force.

“You’re mine? All mine?” He growled. “Good- all mine to- ah fuck- to breed- to claim- mine- mine” he kept repeating. Your hands that laid on his chest stared to dig in it his toned muscle. The slight pain Only driving him to fuck you harder. “Gonna take it all yeah? Gonna take everything I can give you- you’re mine. Mine.” He said.

“Yours. All yours.” You said softly against him. When those words finally left your lips that was it. He pushed up into you with one final thrust, his knot pushing past your entrance. The feeling alone bringing on another strong orgasm as you felt his balls empty inside you. His head that was nuzzled into your neck moved as he sunk his teeth deep into you. The pain the pleasure the everything of the situation had your mind floating. Your body shook harshly as you felt yourself squirting all over his cock and yourselves.

He let out a low growl holding your body tightly to him. He held you against him as you both came down from the intense orgasms. “You did so well” he almost purred into your ear.

A few minutes of silence mixed with heavy breathing filed the air before he spoke once more. “You really meant it right? That you’re all mine?” He asked sheepishly, afraid you’d take it back.

“I meant every word of it.” You said smiling. You kissed his cheek softly holding tightly to him.

You might have only known him as the asshole of the college but now. You were seeing him for who he truly was. He would let everyone believe he was still this big bad wolf that didn’t take anything from anyone. However when it came to you he was just a sweet overgrown puppy that would do anything for you.

#monster fucker #monster lover #monster fic #monster writing #monster x reader #terato #teratophillia #monster boyfriend #monster smut #monster #werewolf x reader #werewolf fic #werewolf smut #werewolf #werewolf fucker #werewolf imagine #werewolf nsft #werewolf partner

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alessiamalfoyzabini · 3 months ago

Text

Howl at Midnight

Pairing | werewolf!Jimin x human!Reader

Word Count | 7.5k

Warnings | +18, angst, smut, halloween theme, an apparently abandoned castle (don't trespass on other people's property 🤧), mentions of a pact made with the city's residents, poison, MC doesn't really have much choice 💀, forced nudity, dark themes and also yandere (?), underneath MC finds the situation exciting, bites and marks, sink the canines and drink blood, PWP, oral sex, pussy worship, dubcon, begging, virginity loss, unprotected sex (use protection!), vaginal sex, big dick, knotting, MC abandons herself to her fate (I think Jimin's supernatural nature contributes in MC's choices), eat cum, this is not for minors.

This fanfiction is dark and yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | You always thought you lived in a quiet, small town. You never imagined that the locals would be able to keep such a secret for centuries, you fell into their trap… But it doesn't seem so bad.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys!!! 🥹

My best friend and I challenged each other to write a Halloween-themed story using the following keywords: werewolf - halloween - virginity - castle - poison.

I don't know why I came up with such a story, it was supposed to be something simple but my dark side took over WAY too much 💀

Anyway my best friend liked the story and suggested that I publish it, so here it is, I already apologize for any mistakes and for the plot which is not who knows what 🥺

Howl at Midnight was written for recreation, but I still hope you enjoy it ❤️

PS: I really didn't know how to classify this story, when in doubt I put the warning “yandere,” since there are behaviors that go a little beyond 😵‍💫

Permanent Taglist | @katherine-kookie, @btsuga-d, @reallygenerouskoala, @takemeaway5402, @velvet-stardust2002, @jimincrystal, @ke1k029, @kylafox09, @pantara, @themwordsblog, @angelicsmilesworld

It's a rather dark night, you think, as the flickering lights of street lamps barely illuminate your path. You and some of your friends have decided to spend Halloween night roaming the more desolate streets of your small town, rather than attend the party of the school's homecoming queen, the most popular and at the same time most hated girl ever by you and your friends, a common ground that has certainly welded your friendship.

You are reminded of the afternoon you spent at Glenn's house deciding how you would spend Halloween night; Glenn's initiative had been rather unique, since he was not a fan of that holiday.

“It will be fun, everything is so scary at night, we might even meet a real vampire! I mean, not like Edward Cullen, I mean one who doesn't sparkle-” but Glenn's excited monologue had been badly interrupted by his girlfriend, Claire, who had hit him over the head with a book, and who knows why, said book was actually titled Twilight. You remember giggling, willingly accepting that idea, but now...

“We were simply supposed to go for a walk, Glenn,” you mutter ruefully, looking around, “Do you want to tell me where you're taking us?”

The red-haired boy snorts again, settling into his vampire costume bought at a thrift store stall, “Come on Y/N, what would life be without a little thrill?”

Claire, for her part, nods in turn with a euphoric smile, as if she knows something you don't, prancing merrily dressed as a red devil among black lace decorations and lace.

“Life would be as it has always been, wonderful,” you blurt out nervously, freezing suddenly.

The asphalt has run out and the streetlights have stopped dimly illuminating the entire street, you are at the edge of the most talked about lands in your town. When and how exactly did you get there?

“Here we are, my girls,” you hear Glenn say, satisfied with his feat.

“What are we doing here?” you swallow, far from cheerful.

Answering you is Claire, “It's an abandoned castle and this is Halloween night, what do you say?”

You grit your teeth, shaking your head, “You're crazy, I'm not going in there!” you take a step back, your heart stirring, but Glenn stops you in a single moment.

“Where do you think you're going? I promised your brother I'd keep an eye on you,” he tells you sternly, and you know he's right, you can't just leave on your own, the streets are empty but it would still be dangerous.

“Don't you want to see what it's really like inside, aren't you the least bit curious?”

Short answer? No.

More articulate answer? Fuck no.

“Come on, don't be a wimp now!”

You snort, casting a glance at the castle in question.

It is as large as it is gloomy; the older inhabitants of the town have always spoken of the presence of various monsters within it, which is why the lands surrounding the castle are so large, preventing the actual growth of the otherwise large and well-populated town. Some of the land had been ceded to keep the monsters quiet.

That's some bullshit. And you're certainly not a wimp.

What will you find in there, maybe overgrown spiders? You shake your head, certainly nothing up to the Acromantulae seen in Harry Potter.

“I'm not afraid,” you limit yourself to saying, Glenn and Claire seem satisfied with your answer as they begin to step over half of the downed iron bars surrounding the gates of the immense building. It bothers you that they haven't bothered beyond you, but it's Halloween night; you can't really spoil their fun.

You hold on tightly to one of the rusty old iron bars, lift one leg trying not to fall off because of the bulky skirt of your witch costume, and end up straight on the ground covered with dry mud and grass, thank the heavens that it hasn't rained in the last few days, otherwise goodbye costume, although more like an elegant medieval dress and nothing more than that.

“Guys, wait for me!” you exclaim as you turn toward them, but you find yourself rolling your eyes.

The darkness is almost completely pitch black, only the moon high in the sky gives you some brightness in that open space surrounded by green trees and uncultivated grass. Your friends are not there.

“Please tell me this is a joke, please,” you growl, turning only a few seconds to climb over the railing, “Glenn? Claire?”

A shiver of unease snakes down your spine, as if someone - or something - is watching you. But you immediately banish the absurd thought. The Halloween atmosphere always makes everything quite scary; your friends chose that place for that very reason.

Imagining that you simply find them in front of the castle's entrance, you also wander down the path that actually looks like anything else by now. You will meet each other there.

The wind blows without worrying about your bare shoulders because of the dress's boat neckline; the cape had long since been taken away along the way. You bought it in an antique store and the elderly man seemed quite eager to get rid of it. He even gave you a discount.

The sound of falling leaves under the force of the draught is quite terrifying, especially now that you've discovered you can't use your cell phone. There is absolutely no service there, and isn't that how the best horror movies begin?

A frustrated groan leaves your throat, you don't have to think about it.

“Glenn?” you try to call out once more, but along the path echoes the hoots of an owl that is probably scrutinizing you with condescension, wondering why a silly girl like you is wandering around in such a desolate, godforsaken place.

When you arrive at the gates of the castle, you find yourself admiring the extraordinary Gothic architecture of the huge, ancient building made of stone and marble. The fact that it has survived over the centuries without any kind of restoration is a testament to the good materials that were used.

One by one, you walk down the stone steps, sudden thunder jolts you violently, and with fear in your veins you throw yourself toward the immense reinforced door, finding it ajar, a sign that Glenn and Claire must have already entered. You ignore the hint of annoyance, since they could at least wait for you, you must escape the sudden storm.

Wordlessly you notice the large, thick black clouds enveloping the sky, obscuring even the immense full moon.

You carefully close the ancient gateway, looking around the thick-walled atrium decorated with paintings that are surely worth more than your current home, not to mention the carpet you are walking on, though a bit worn, is definitely from the time of the castle's founding. You wonder which lord lived there and whether it can be traced in the history books.

“Claire?” you whisper, afraid of disturbing someone, but who exactly?

Sighing wearily, you really have no time or inclination to play along with your friends, you rest your hand on the wrought-iron railing of the staircase, beginning to climb so that you can find those two idiots as soon as possible and get home safely.

They say 'God makes them and then matches them up,' right? You mentally growl, well, you would’ve just wiped them out instead.

Between corridors that are not real corridors but dead ends, some narrow and some exaggeratedly large, you finally find the wing reserved for rooms, hating the enormity of that place.

“Hey, you ... are you here?” you ask, slowly opening a bedroom door with one eye closed and one only slightly open, fearing to find the two lovebirds doing strange things in the leto of an abandoned castle, because they would be perfectly capable of it.

But what you find is just a lavishly decorated bedroom absolutely empty of any other life forms but you.

“This is definitely a joke,” you chuckle mirthlessly, clutch your arms to your chest, and continue that unwelcome tour of yours, continuing to open rooms at random, with no more expectation of finding anyone in them, until you come to a rather large bedroom.

Quite different from the others, which up to that point had been yes, beautiful, but empty, lacking a soul.

This one was immense just like the castle itself, yet warm, thanks to the burning fireplace. The four-poster bed was adorned with red silk sheets, as were the velvet curtains tied to the solid wooden columns, on the walls finely decorated with gold paint were hung medieval tapestries, depicting hunting parties, running horses and wolves, wolves everywhere. One that particularly strikes you depicts two wolves and a woman in the center, they seem ready to bite her fiercely, you notice with discomfort.

High glass windows with curtains left open allow lightning to illuminate the entire room, followed by a terrible, howl-like rumble.

That horrible noise seems to awaken you from the sort of trance you fell into while admiring the surely master bedroom, and you finally take serious note of the burning fire. Why a working fireplace in a castle uninhabited for years?

“To many the night brings counsel, to me it has brought a lovely maiden, I see...” you gasp surprised and terrified, turning toward the silky, warm, yet slightly hoarse, almost growling voice.

A relatively young man watches you with his shoulder resting against one of the stained glass windows. You had not seen him. No. He was not there before, you are absolutely sure.

His dark, shiny hair has been grown down to his neck, some curling around his sharp, elegant jaw, the neck left bare by his unbuttoned, white shirt is a set of sinuous, sharp, powerful lines. The soft black pants do nothing to hide the wonderful figure of his long legs, his feet are bare, you notice. He feels perfectly comfortable, as if... as if that were his home.

“I-I... I'm sorry, it's Halloween and some friends of mine thought...” you try to explain with your hands clasped to the skirt of your dress, but you are immediately interrupted by the man's sophisticated, sassy giggle.

“They thought it was a brilliant idea to violate my property?” you pale at his question.

“We... the whole town believes the castle is uninhabited,” you reply with a shy breath, trying to justify them.

The young man breaks away from the glass window, slowly approaching you, you take steps back, inadvertently bumping into one of the pillars of the bed.

“And does it look uninhabited to you, little girl?”

Little girl? By the look of him, he wouldn't seem that much older than you, in fact.

Now that he has moved closer, standing only a foot away from you, you notice details of his face that you did not catch a few moments earlier.

He has high, pronounced cheekbones, and his lips seem so plump and soft that you blush at the thought of kissing them, his nose is well-proportioned and straight, while the peculiar shape of his eyes gives him a rather sweet and angelic air, although the fun written in them is anything but angelic.

“I didn't know, I'm really sorry, sir,” and it's true, the last thing you want is to be a nuisance to someone you don't even know, “I'll get my friends back and we'll leave right away, I promise.”

Dark eyes rimmed with long eyelashes watch you closely, before dropping to the rest of your body. Suddenly you remember the deep cleavage of your witch's dress, your skin burning under his watchful gaze.

“Right now there is no one else in the castle, except you and me,” he approaches again, you can feel his warm breath meet your neck, you shiver as the man clasps one hand above your head, around the pillar of the bed, doing the same with the other. This makes it clear how statuesque his physique is, compared to your more petite one, you also catch a subtle citrus fragrance, light and not cloying, is that him?

With a huge effort, you process his words, widening your eyes. No one else?

“But how-”

“In my opinion you made it all up, little girl,” he sneers, "Just admit that it was your curiosity that drove you here," but you shake your head, vehemently denying it.

“I really came here with friends!” you fret, you've never been good at handling pressure and this guy is not helping you at all.

“Oh, really?” a devilish smile makes its way across his soft, smooth cheeks, "So it's just a coincidence that you're wearing this dress?" you don't know how to answer the question, you can't, not when he lowers a hand over you, brushes the outline of your face with a finger, trailing down the delicate line of your neck to your cleavage, your rippling, shivering skin longs to receive his touch once more, you struggle to recover.

“Th-this dress?” you stammer in shame, his finger is still grazing your chest and you are doing nothing to push it away.

“Mh-mh,” he nods, pushing your cleavage down a few millimeters, enough to make you squeak with red cheeks, “How much do you know about this castle and its owners, little girl?”

Nothing, you'd like to answer, but your eyes already communicate your answer as he pulls back, finally letting you breathe. His scent still hovers around you, though.

“Year 1479, the people of the town of Howl enter into an agreement with the seven lords of Midnight, ceding a part of their lands to these noble lords and agreeing to send a virgin once every ten years, on the so-called Halloween Night,” he narrates, leaving you speechless, “In return, none of the townspeople would be hunted down and killed, does that ring a bell?”

“L-Listen to me, I really don't know what you're talking about, I definitely have to go now,” you nod at your own words, but the door slams shut along with a new and terrible rumble, an anguished cry involuntarily leaving your throat.

“The dress you're wearing is soaked in poison, little girl” the imperious tone terrifies you, automatically your body closes in on itself, as a kind of protection.

“This must definitely be a joke, it is Halloween after all,” you whisper to yourself with tears in your eyes.

“It's a security, for us. It ensures that the girls don't run away, because we are the only ones who can neutralize that poison” you don't know why the man started speaking in plural, you just know that you have to leave, even though something inside you is screaming at you not to. Because it could end very badly.

“You'd better take it off, your body might absorb more poison than is really necessary, the sooner we start the better,” he sighs, beginning to take off his white shirt, showing off a well-built, smooth chest and abs studded with thin scars lighter than his skin, swallowing without any more salivation, following long lines of black ink that weave across his pecs, forming some kind of mark, perhaps related to some cult.

“What are you doing!”

The man tilts his head, his soft hair following the movement meekly, and grasps the edge of his pants, running his forefinger and thumb over it defiantly as he watches you, “I'm taking what was given to me, little girl,” he sneers again, not at all impressed by your shock.

It was not uncommon for him and his brothers to be served girls who were totally unaware of their own destiny, they were tiresome at times, they would not stop shaking and crying, praying not to be deprived of their purity, but you smell so delicious that it might make him go beyond your dullness.

The fabric of his excellent quality pants slowly flows over the flawless skin of his toned legs, the blood rushes straight to your cheeks, and your heart misses a beat with a strangled “iiih” as you realize that the stranger has not only freely undressed in front of you, but is not wearing any underwear.

You've certainly never seen a naked man in person, but based on your anatomy books, that is definitely not a normal penis.

With a strange feeling of dizziness and no little embarrassment, you realize that even at rest, it is definitely big, with a swollen base almost as big as perfectly round testicles and such obvious purplish veins that you wonder if it is actually already hard, in its own way. Could that vibrant pink be an indicator? God, what the hell are you thinking?!

After a little dizziness your eyes fly to the closed door, you have to leave, run.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asks you, smiling with a hint of danger in his eyes, “Do you want to run? Run away from me? Know that this will only excite me more.”

You try to look away from his cock, with extreme difficulty, as he spoke, his cock had moved slightly, as if agreeing with the man's words. You ignore the slight jolt between your legs.

“If I can get through the gates of your property, will you let me go?” you propose almost shyly, staring into his sly eyes.

“Um... if I let you go, you'd die from the poison, but if that's what you want...” he shrugs, making you frown. The story of the poisoned dress might be bullshit to convince you to let him fuck you, but what if it's not?

You shake your head, it's all just a bluff. This man is clearly a pervert, maybe he gets off on fucking on such nights with stranger women.

“That's what I want.” you assure with a note of panic in your voice, the desire to escape is so urgent you can hardly think, “Open the door.”

But the man shakes his head, “Strip and I will leave you free to roam my lands until I find you.”

“I don't-!” the words die between your lips, his singsong expression gone, giving way to a sternness that clashes with his regal features, the difference making that contrast frightening.

“I like to play, little girl ... but I don't tolerate whining, don't make me angry, because I might decide to take you now, we have a bed available right here and now,” he hisses, clenching his fist against the polished wooden backboard of the four-poster bed. The more he looks at you, the more his balls throb fiercely; he's trying to control his desire; if his cock hardens, that's the end.

You're the first woman he's seen in 60 years, finally his turn has come, and there's no way he'll let you go. Do you want to play? He'll let you, but eventually you'll give in to his desires. The scent of your sweet virgin pussy makes his wolf growl, eager to get out to meet you.

Perhaps you sense something strange, because with trembling fingers you go to unbutton the side opening of your dress, a little sorry to him, the plunging neckline raises and shapes your breasts invitingly, though the stench of the poison with which it is imbued leaves him disgusted. An idea of humans to persuade chosen women not to flee, his eyes scroll over the ancient clock hanging above the door, the hands turn and you have just four hours to go before the poison takes effect, killing you. He would be sorry to see you die without having had a chance to taste you first.

“Tic-Tac, the clock is ticking, little girl... the slower you are, the more likely you are to die,” he informs you with a smile, your fear written all over his face igniting his loins; he has to restrain himself so he doesn't jump on you, and you're aware of that now, too.

Your eyes study his shoulders, they have stiffened noticeably, and with embarrassing speed you unfasten the last side button, letting the soft black fabric of your dress slip off like a veil, leaving you in your bra and panties. You start up under his eyes, which move to observe every nook and cranny of your body, from the soft breasts enclosed in the cups of the purple lace bra, going lower and lower, past the delicious curve of your hips to the tightly clasped mount of Venus covered by more purple lace. You yourself realize that for a man who wants to possess you, that kind of lingerie might make you look like a neatly wrapped gift in his eyes.

“Don't stop,” he tells you hoarsely, his eyes veiled with glowing lust.

The blood leaves your veins; if he were to take you, you would already be ready to receive him. As your fingers move to get rid of your bra as well, you realize you don't find it such a disturbing idea after all, even when you finally pull down the light fabric of your panties, showing off something no boy has ever had the honor of looking at, his nostrils flaring as if to inhale something in the air, you are aroused.

“You'd better start running, little girl, I'm going to give you exactly twenty seconds head start,” his voice comes out as a guttural sound, making you widen your eyes and really run, when the door suddenly opens wide.

You don't even wonder what strange contraption he used to close or open the door without having to physically do it, you just know you are definitely in danger.

Every nook and cranny of the castle is an unknown, he owns it, he may know passages unknown to you; therefore, you always try to wander the corridors with no visible openings. A tense, animalistic roar makes you scream in terror, with spirited eyes you look down the stairs, you are close to the stairs to the hall, the door has not been locked, you just need more time, you can make it.

You sling yourself barefoot down, almost tumbling from your haste and throw yourself out, skipping the stone steps and then to the wild path, short of breath and fear dictating your decisions, you remember it took you a good twenty minutes to get to the castle, but walking the whole path is out of the question, it would be too obvious and easy, you necessarily have to lengthen the path and consequently put in more time to get away from that terrifying place.

With horror you realize that you don't know where Glenn and Claire might be at all, would he hurt them if he found them?

Of course he would.

You don't know the man, but you have noticed all too well the bestial aura around him; he is someone capable of harm, and he will harm you if you cannot escape him.

Your feet step on scattered branches on the ground and you whimper trying to ignore the pain, another roar - or maybe it's a howl? - rips through the air, mingling with the howls of the rushing wind, and you stifle an anguished cry.

Scratches open along your body, trees ravaged by bad weather and never tended seem to want to block your way in every way possible, and the darkness certainly doesn't help.

Like a wounded animal you limp aimlessly, not imagining the hunger of the ravenous beast that sneers at the scent of your blood.

You feel tired, sluggish at times, your peripheral vision somewhat obscured, an excruciating doubt makes its way into your mind. Could it be that the story of the poisoned dress was true?

But why sell it to you, how could the seller have known that your friends would take you to that castle on Halloween night?

You begin to stagger, a sharp twinge in your head stops you, it is so painful that you collapse on the icy, muddy ground.

You realize you are screwed in every sense of the word when a weight suddenly crushes you to the ground, you scream in terror and wide-eyed, trying to shake it off.

Jimin doesn't think twice about clasping you in his vigorous arms, burying his nose on your neck damp with cold sweat, the accelerated beat of your heart rumbling in his own chest, driving him to moan with need. He presses himself against your soft curves, basking in your feverish warmth despite the stormy, icy night.

“Don't hurt me,” you shake your head with your eyes closed, trying to fight the unusual fatigue to plead with him, "Please, I was wrong, forgive me...I won't come back here again, I swear," the boy snorts against your flustered skin.

He reluctantly lifts himself up to allow you to turn toward him, you find some strength to open your eyelids wide, being invested by his sometimes divine appearance. His eyes, no longer as black as you thought they were, are tinged with an extraordinary shade of gold, he watches you from receptive pupils as you notice the grin on his mouth, a mouth larger than you remembered. There is something strange, not human, about him now. And despite the run he must have made to keep up with you, he doesn't have the slightest hint of fatigue in his breath, he's as fucking fresh as a newly bloomed rose.

“You're dying, little girl,” he hums, shaking some hair off your forehead, you lose a beat at the sight of long claws where once there were short, well-manicured nails.

The claw grazes your skin unhurriedly, you feel it scratch without hurting, you anxiously lick your lips closing your eyes, you are so sleepy that you even willingly accept your fate, Jimin snorts through his nose, almost laughing, before lowering himself onto your jugular.

It would be really easy for him to sink his canines into your flesh and bite your throat to rip it out, but fortunately for you he is not a vampire. All he wants is to sink his cock into your pussy and make you cum repeatedly, but if you died it would be hard to put his plan into action. He wants you alive and receptive.

He licks a long streak of saliva onto your delicate neck, heedless of the dirt that has stuck to your skin, before gently biting you. Your reaction is immediate, you start sobbing like a puppy at the feel of his fangs penetrating your flesh, you cling to his shoulders trying to move him weakly from you, and you kick awkwardly with your legs, legs that are locked in a vice grip by his. That way it is easy to feel something hard and heavy pressing against your belly, you try not to think about it as the man seems inebriated by the taste of your blood flowing straight down his throat.

The bitter taste of the poison is revolting, but fortunately your blood has such sweet notes that it counterbalances that horrendous taste in a balanced way, here, now he just has to lick your wound thoroughly. He collects the last rivulets of your blood with his tongue, before dripping his saliva into the tiny holes created by his sharp canines, little holes that begin to close with light smoke, cauterizing the wound and partly removing the poison toxins from your blood.

With no longer a grip on your throat, your head falls limply back to the ground, you gasp trying to fight off the shock of such an experience.

“Mpf!” his tongue invades your mouth treacherously, the taste of your blood making you squeal on his lips, so unfairly soft and pleasant to the touch. The hot and unusually long muscle pushes into your oral cavity eagerly, saving your life has as if awakened the more primal side of Jimin, one of the seven lords who unleashed hell in Howl's town. And the mating ritual has begun, but you cannot know this.

You break free by gasping for air, “W-why?” you stutter breathlessly, “You don't even know me!” you cry as you drive your nails into his forearms, triggering in return a reaction of possession in him, prompting him to grab your thighs and lift them onto his shoulders to your profound horror, he is so wild as he spreads your legs wide open to sink his face in between them that you can't utter a single breath.

As he runs his tongue along your pulsing, hot folds, Jimin realizes with nastiness that during your escape you got wet for him, he had smelled your arousal as he pursued you, on some people the quickened heartbeat has that effect, but the sweet and slightly salty taste of your juices are now a definitive proof for him. And you can't deny it, you love how he teases you by slowly sliding around your swollen clit, plays with it by holding it between his lips and then releasing it after sucking hard, almost biting it. He tortures it by pricking it quickly with the tip of his tongue and then returns to lapping your thick juices from the soft slit, which seems to melt every time that devilish tongue penetrates it, managing to lick and stimulate walls that a normal tongue could never reach.

You shyly move your pelvis against his face, your thighs stained with your arousal tremble against his cheeks, and a terrible heat makes you pant desperately. The man abandons your slit to push himself again against your unbearably sensitive folds, they are so moist that you can hear the noise they make every time that cursed tongue stimulates them to push a few millimeters toward your clitoris, never reaching to touch it.

“God!” you curse, suddenly reaching out an arm to grab his hair, not recognizing yourself when you desperately push him against your pussy, longing for the pleasure he was spoiling you with at first.

His arousal makes him grunt like a wounded animal as he sinks into your core with languid, sensual movements, rewraps your desperate clit with his lips and tongue before continuing with more direct, zigzagging movements, crushing it at times with the flat part of his tongue and then flicking it with the tip soon after. He would never stop kissing and licking you like that, his tensed cock vibrating each time he eats you up a little more, delightedly swallowing your juices, enjoying retrieving them each time they flow between your wide-open, rosy thighs. A clearer, liquid substance squirts slightly out of your slit, causing you to shake around his head, you clench your lower lip between your teeth with tears sliding down your flushed cheeks, you are instigating Jimin to pleasurably hurt you, and the funniest thing is that you don't even notice.

Finishing licking some of that shiny, transparent substance from your inner thigh, the boy moves up your body, biting slowly at the flesh of your belly and then higher and higher to the softness of your breasts, titillating a turgid nipple before pulling it between his lips.

“W-What are you doing to me?” you gasp, wishing he would never stop adoring and cuddling your body, why? Just moments before you were running from his clutches, why are you lifting your pelvis now, inviting him to take you as if you've been waiting for this all your life?

“Are you just...” he murmurs, before kissing your chin with his devilish lips, "Responding to your desire" he kisses your mouth again, an electric sensation forcing you to comply, chasing his tongue with yours, collapsing to the spicy taste that is now all over his mouth, your taste.

With half-closed eyes you realize that the dark lines of ink are moving, taking the shape of a wolf watching you, you have no way to comprehend the unsettling sensation that invades you. The man, with one hand pressed against your bare back, forces you to turn away without you having any say in the matter, you find yourself with your face to the ground and the wind blowing down your back, shivering under his fiery, golden eyes, your legs trembling from the effort to keep you on your hands and knees, fighting the sweet pain pulsing in your naked pussy.

“Now hold still, little girl,” he murmurs in your ear in a husky voice, sensuously pumping his cock with one hand, swollen veins pushing against his palm, which squeezes along the entire shaft to the base, then back to the thick tip from which he is already dripping his thick cum, "I need to get all the venom out of your pretty little body, am I right?" he sneers, positioning himself at your entrance.

You open your eyes wide, panic stifled by arousal, but it's still there nonetheless, clenching your fingers between the grass and damp earth, rubbing your knees against pebbles that make you moan in pain. The length of his cock begins to push against your slit, forcing it open for him, a choked cry leaves your throat, feeling your walls that, despite their wetness, struggle to let him in.

“You're still so tight,” hisses the man unfamiliar to you, "I must spoil you some more, huh?" he chuckles, sliding his hand between your legs, using his index finger to stimulate your throbbing bud, you gasp arching your back and raising your buttocks toward the man, who takes the opportunity to plunge his cock another inch into your entrance, which throbs and squeezes him rhythmically, almost making him lose control of the situation.

The sensation of the claw grazing your folds each time he presses and massages your swollen clitoris brings you almost to the edge, you feel a wild sexual desire, something you never experienced even during your teenage years, a crucial period of sexual development.

“Go ahead, please!” you exclaim breathlessly, pressing your forehead against the ground, every single millimeter that moves inside you without really penetrating you is like torture, your index finger moving languidly, and you're going fucking crazy.

“Are you really begging?” he teases you, you grit your teeth until it hurts, but finally you give in.

“Please... fill me, take me!”

“Do you want it?” he asks again, pulling the tip almost completely out, the only part he had managed to get in, you clench your legs desperately trying to recover what your intimacy has lost.

“Yes! I want it! I want your cock, I want it to fill me all the way, and I want it now!” you growl with an anger that burns under your skin, looking at him from behind, his face is an emotionless mask, but his eyes...oh, those never lie, you read the fire of desire in them, he's suffering that anticipation as much as you are. Bastard.

“You begged for it so well, little girl... I'll just have to satisfy you,” the cavernous tone clashes with his appearance, but it anticipates what happens next and leaves you breathless, abandoning your contracted clitoris he grips your hips tightly, almost penetrating your delicate flesh with his claws, pushing himself into you with a vigorous thrust, instantly breaking the thin membrane at your entrance, effortlessly. The burning that follows makes your eyes water, your body instinctively trying to escape the man's savage assault, suddenly realizing that you have lost your virginity that way, out in the open, sweaty and dirty, just like an animal.

The man on top of you hisses and makes strange deep sounds, inebriated by the sensation of his throbbing cock finally and completely squeezed between your trembling walls, trying to adjust to the abnormal size. You gasp whimpering, moving your pelvis trying to disentangle yourself from the overgrip, his claws are hurting you, but he doesn't seem to want to let go, not now that he is buried so deep.

With a grunt he thrusts out slightly, watching as your pussy instinctively clings to him, as your thick juices and virginal blood wet his entire length, lubricating him. Leaning toward you, he lets a long trickle of saliva fall back between your buttocks, slipping between them reaches the point where you are joined. He thrusts back into you forcefully, striking deeper and deeper, and you feel every detail of his cock penetrating you and thrusting higher and higher, touching points so delicate and sensitive that you howl meekly, like a she-wolf offering her whole self to her mate, the pain has been replaced by the need to be possessed, you move against his pubes with urgency, the thread of pleasure is getting thinner and thinner, you feel incredibly wet, practically soaked, and the sounds of your union are so obscene that you are shamefully aroused. Your walls flutter drunkenly with pleasure, at one point with the thick, red tip he manages to hit the entrance to your cervix with precision, you stiffen whimpering breathlessly, and Jimin collapses on top of you, continuing to move his hips tirelessly and with spellbinding sinuosity.

You take it so well that it is impossible for him not to want to have you again and again, throwing back his head to be hit by the moonlight that increases his desire, his pupils widen and he feels his testicles clench with urgency as the base of his cock swells, making him shake all over. Without a second thought, he begins to enter you with deeper and longer thrusts so that his whole cock sinks into you without any more constriction, he hears you panting and crying and this only causes him joy, you are completely abandoned to him and your sensations.

You're about to come, you're not so ignorant that you don't know what's happening to your body, you've even heard of intense orgasms, but this... god, this is going to be devastating, you know very well. It's nothing like the ones you had with masturbation, this one is deeper, snaking through your lower belly and you feel it in your uterus. You stiffen all over, trying to block the erection that keeps pinning you down between hard, sensual thrusts, every time it touches your cervix you risk going crazy.

“Don't stop me, little girl... It's here, isn't it?” he gasps at you, slamming into you once more, high up between the entrance of your uterus and another sensitive area that makes your clitoris and walls tear with intense pleasure, your toes curl and you can't help but nod desperately, "Alright, love," he replies without even realizing it, kissing your bare, sweaty shoulder, his knot is almost complete, but he wants you to come before he gives you his cum.

He teases a sensitive, turgid nipple with the tip of a claw as he reaches the point of your union, massaging your folds to help you come, though with a hint of naughtiness he doesn't dare touch your clitoris, he wants you to orgasm on your own, knowing that the intensity then will be greater and you will collapse weak and distraught in his arms.

“Oh, fuck-!” you widen your eyes, being hit by a pressing and beautiful sensation of jouissance, sucking him furiously into you amid tremors and searing waves of pleasure, the same clear liquid as before leaks from your slit, this time in a greater quantity, causing Jimin to grunt as he is run over by your jet, slamming into you almost brutally, streams of his cum fiercely fill your core, as if to mark you for life, and finally his knot swells completely, locking him inside you.

Although immobilized, he cannot stop coming, his testicles quivering violently, and only one thing could quell his aching desire. With his eyes now almost completely encompassed by the black pupil, he pushes your hair away from your neck, exposing your previously tortured skin.

“Why does this go on?” you ask feverishly, confused by the enormous weight widening your walls and locking his big cock into you.

“Sssh” he rubs the tip of his nose against you, making you shudder, "Just wait a little longer" his words are followed by an excruciating twinge, his grown canines penetrating like blades into your skin and sinking into your flesh amidst your shocked and submissive screams, your body surrendering to his force, instinctively submitting and waiting for him to finish marking.

Jimin loves blood, your blood, it pleasantly bathes his tongue with its density and sweetness, he moans with need as he loses himself in your scent, instinct commands him to move his hips once more, even though you are both locked together, with a weak moan you take in the last strings of his cum, resting possessively in your belly, you feel heavy and unbearably full, but at least he seems to be finished, you feel him relax as he once again licks the holes left by his teeth, healing them. He looks like a wolf cleaning up after his mate after mating.

“What are you?” you ask wearily, by now surrendering to the idea that the man cannot be a mere human, that probably everything he has told you, from the poison-soaked dress to the deal with the town, is real.

“Jimin” you hear him grunt at such a low frequency that if you hadn't been alone, you probably wouldn't have heard him. You snort weakly.

“I asked you what you are, not your name,” you murmur, the strange, heavy weight preventing you from moving, hissing as Jimin moves awkwardly between your legs, putting you in a more comfortable situation, letting you rest against his chest lethargically, occasionally kissing the back of your neck and licking your neck, or behind your ear.

You'd be lying if you said you didn't like all that attention; you feel a delicious bite around your heart as you cling to his embrace, protected from the evening chill.

You don't know exactly how long you spend like this, maybe forty minutes, maybe an hour, the fact is that finally that thing between your legs seems to melt away, making you sigh almost strangely.

Jimin gently untangles himself from you, leaving your warm shelter slowly and with a feeling of emptiness that stuns you, your legs finally relax and you try to move them to regain some mobility, you feel his cum pushing to come out and two of his fingers enter you, plugging your entrance. No claws, you notice as he slowly turns you around.

You hiss at the burning, your knees are completely ruined, but Jimin begins to sprinkle them with kisses and saliva, the man is back between your thighs again, you can see his long, wild hair shining as he licks and sucks your skin from time to time, all the way to his fingers, he moves them slowly inside you and you twitch involuntarily, closing your eyes at the warmth of his tongue licking a thick streak of cum and juices dripping roughly from you, pushing it down to your hypersensitive clitoris and you moaning in pain.

“Don't do it,” you gasp, closing your legs tightly, but he doesn't give up, grabbing your chin between two fingers and forcing your mouth wide open, your heart faltering with a strange emotion, you let him spit all his creamy load into your mouth, running along your tongue with a surprised cry.

“Swallow,” he orders with a gleam of interest in his eyes.

You do as he tells you, wanting to please him in every way possible, accepting him back into your mouth for a slow, intimate kiss. It is also dominant and sweet, intense.

“I'm Jimin, a werewolf and also one of the masters of the castle,” he explains pushing you against his bare chest, you hug him back as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be there, clasped to him on a bed of dry leaves, "You are my mate, it's no accident that you were chosen ... being a virgin at your age is unusual for humans, but not for us wolves, you waited for me," he emphasizes with fire in his eyes.

“But ... my friends?” you can't help but ask, which makes him chuckle.

“My people have learned to be among humans, they recognized you by scent and led you to me at the right time, they are fine,” he informs you with a caress, “In fact, you should worry about yourself,” he says with a note of reproach.

“H-How?” fear advances again.

“I've waited too many years for your birth, little girl... it's time to repay the wait,” he hums as something hot and hard returns against your belly.

“Jimin, wai-!” too late, the tip of his cock captures your entrance again, this time with more ease and the next thrust has you writhing against him with tears in your eyes, “Oh, shit!”

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taeyongdoyoung · 3 months ago

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lobos, we cannot stop hunting

summary: the full moon comes and you insist on staying with your best friend despite his valiant warnings to make you run away from him... pairing: werewolf!chan x reader genre: smut, fantasy, best friends to lovers warnings: *takes a deep breath* heat suppressants, hugging, werewolf transformation, kissing, making out, hair-pulling, eating out, begging, fingering, overstimulation, consent is established multiple times, slightly mean dom!chan but overall a sweetheart, praise+degradation, size kink (duh), unprotected sex on the floor, knotting, breeding kink, mating *exhales* author's note: happy halloween, baby stays!!! 🐺 make sure to get some yummy treats and always remember to say the magic words please and thank you 😈 but ESPECIALLY please as the king of the wolves taught us 😉🛐 word count: 1.8k

"It's a full moon tonight," your werewolf best friend Chan says.

"So?" you murmur, not even bothering to look up from your phone. Those F1 reels that keep popping up on your feed are so interesting! "You've got your pills and stuff? You'll be fine, same as always."

"I ran out, actually," Chan scratches the back of his head nervously.

You put down your phone. Sorry, sexy F1 guys, you can wait.

"Can't you get more?" you ask him.

"No, my doctor is out of town. It's his anniversary with his wife and his phone is turned off."

"Goddamnit, Chan, and you tell me that now?" you are immediately worried about your best friend.

Before he started these pills, Chan told you that the full moon was like really bad on him. As in, he was completely out of control and had these...urges that he had to take care of by himself. Basically, he was in a lot of pain. He's been using these pills for the last two years and they've been working miraculously. Chan was pretty much like a human during the usually dangerous for werewolves full moon. Thankfully, his doctor has been very helpful in giving him plenty of these amazing pills.

"I'm sorry...I thought I had one left but I must have miscalculated."

"Chan, I keep telling you to write these stuff down in advance," you shake your head. "What are you going to do tonight?"

"Suffer through it, I guess. I was just giving you a heads-up so you can get out of here...like right about now."

"What? No way I'm leaving you alone!" you argue passionately. "What if you die?"

"Uh, I'm pretty sure I won't. But you don't get it, without my pills, I could unwittingly put you in danger. My best chance to make sure I'm not a menace to civilized society is to lock the door and tie myself up or something."

"That sounds horrible!" you cry out, feeling intense sympathy for your best friend. "I don't want to leave you alone."

"You have to!" Chan insists. "I would hate myself if I hurt you."

"You won't!" you keep trying to persuade him. "I trust you more than anyone else in the universe."

Chan shakes his head, still hesitant.

"Please, you should leave before the moon comes up."

Little does he know it has already begun to rise...

"No, I'm not leaving you," you keep saying and wrap your arms around him.

Chan desperately tries to push you away. But it is too late.

As the moon's power grows, so does his. The only thing that prevents you from continuing to embrace him is his oncoming transformation. Your arms fall weakly to your side as you witness the impossible. His generally tender, adorable features quickly turn into sharp, wolflike and kind of intimidating ones, if you have to be honest. But this is your best friend, your Chan, you keep reminding yourself. And all the fear disappears from your body. As you kneel down next to him, you run your hand through his soft fur, trying to pet him.

He initially snarls and tries to scare you off but the more you insist, the more he relaxes under your gentle touch. God, you can't believe he was afraid he'd harm you. He's just...a big puppy.

You can't resist the temptation and you hug him again. He's so fluffy you're gonna die! And then, the unimaginable happens. He fucking purrs! Oh dear, if you had already been having a hard time trying to hide your feelings for your best friend, then seeing him like this would surely be your demise.

Then, unexpectedly, he shifts back to his human form, taking you by surprise. One, because that was faster than you'd expected. Two, because he's entirely naked, but doesn't seem perturbed by it. You try your best to look him in the eyes because uh...you're still not sure where this is going.

"Please, go, I don't think I can control myself any longer," Chan begs.

"Control what?" you're so confused. "I already witnessed you in your wolf form, you seem pretty chill."

"It's not my wolf form you should be scared of," Chan warns darkly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, if you don't get out of my sight in the next ten seconds, I'll fuck you until you pass out. And maybe even after that."

Oh? Wait...OH!!!

"Was that supposed to be a threat or a promise?" you quirk your eyebrows at him.

"Hold on, don't tell me you're actually excited by the prospect?" Chan wants to make sure.

"I mean...don't threaten me with a good time," you shrug calmly.

Chan kneels next to you, grabbing your hands tightly.

"I'm serious right now, don't play with me."

"What makes you think I'm not serious? I trust you, I want you, I lo- Uh, I like you a lot, whatever you do, that won't change," you mentally curse yourself for almost saying the big L-word. You hope he didn't catch that.

Judging from Chan's expression, he seems pretty satisfied with your statement.

"Well, don't say I didn't warn you," he whispers and kisses you harshly, biting your lips and making a mess.

Your mouths are linked by an unending streak of saliva, but honestly you couldn't care less as he claims you, pushing his tongue deeper down your throat, gripping your hair with his fingers for better access. You are already melting. You spoke too soon. You are definitely not ready for this. But you wouldn't be able to make him stop, even if you wanted to.

"Last chance," Chan breaks the kiss to give you the opportunity to back out. To get out of here while you still can.

"Do your worst," you challenge him recklessly and he kisses you again, even harder than before if that is possible.

You know that your best friend, despite his shy and cute demeanour, is physically stronger and bigger than you, but seeing him like this, completely losing control is such a thrill you make sure to commit the picture to memory as vividly as you can.

Chan takes off your clothes in a hurry and just like a hungry wolf, attacks your pussy. And starts devouring it as if it's his last meal on Earth. He doesn't even make the effort to get to the couch, which is so close. He just takes you right there, on the floor. You shake uncontrollably, but he grips your thighs to stop you from moving.

"Please, please, please," you keep repeating even though you have no idea what you're asking for. For him to keep going? For him to stop? You don't know anymore.

"I like it when you beg," Chan smirks against your folds and dives back in, swimming in your water.

It doesn't take you long to burst, completely letting go for him.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he praises you, not giving you time to recover and tracing circles around your entrance with his big fingers.

"No, you," you whisper weakly, trying to make him slow down by pushing his hand away. Needless to say, your efforts are in vain. "I'm s-sensitive."

Chan laughs cruelly.

"You can take it," his words are meant to be reassuring but they're not, as he sticks his finger inside of you.

It's just one but it's already so thick you are beginning to lose your mind.

"C-chan, p-please," you cry for him.

"What is it, sweetheart? You want another?" he mocks your lack of coherence and adds a second finger without waiting for your approval.

"N-no, I c-can't," you shake your head desperately.

"Yes, you can," Chan seems fully convinced, adding a third finger. "You're so tiny, gotta stretch you up real good to be able to take my cock next. Don't you want that, babygirl?"

"Yes, I want it," you are quick to agree and do your best to relax for his big fingers.

"Gonna let me take this sweet pussy with my wolf cock? Claim you as mine? Give you my pups?" he asks gently, his unrestrained actions in complete contrast with his sweet words.

"Yes, yes! Gonna let you breed me like the stupid bitch I am," you answer, degrading yourself in the process.

"That's what I like to hear, darling," Chan praises you and makes you come again on his fingers.

You are almost about to pass out. But somehow you manage to hold on for the next part. You want to feel it. Every second of it.

"Are you sure?" he asks once again, melting your heart.

"I've never been more sure about anything in my life," you reaffirm your belief in him.

Chan doesn't wait for a second offer and slides his cock inside of you. Fucking hell, if you thought his fingers were pretty huge, his manhood is on a whole different level. You try to adjust to his monstrous size and focus on his beautiful eyes instead. He's still your Chan, your sweet-

"Fuck, your pussy's so small, gonna rip you in half," Chan grunts loudly.

Okay, not so sweet after all.

"Please, don't. Or do, it's fine by me," you attempt to make a joke.

He laughs and kisses you again, going in deeper. You wrap your hands around his neck in a tremendous effort to ground you, help you remain conscious through it all.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" Chan keeps talking meanly. "Want me to ruin that tiny pussy of yours?"

"Yes, yes, I want it all," you repeat mindlessly, not caring about the consequences anymore.

Then, as if by some miracle, you feel his cock growing even more while inside of you. Is that even possible? You thought it was just a myth.

Luckily, you're wetter than ever and your pussy easily swallows his knot.

"Gonna fuck you full of my cum, make you my mate, is that okay?" Chan wants to be sure.

"It's okay, Chan, I'll be your mate," you promise, not even sure what that means. But whatever it is, you're fine with it, as long as it's with Chan...

Then, he releases his wolf seed inside of your pussy, making you feel so full, so warm, so complete.

"Take it, baby, I know you can," he reassures you and you do your best to accept his overflowing victory.

It is a total mystery how you still haven't passed out. But you're grateful for it. You'd like to treasure this moment forever.

"I don't think I'll be able to let go of you anytime soon," Chan chuckles softly, still inside of you.

"That's alright, I think I can get used to this," you respond happily, kissing him again.

"Great. 'Cause I don't plan to ever stop hunting you, my sweet little prey," Chan vows.

"I am but a willing victim to whatever it is the full moon did to you," you smile contentedly.

"And if it's not just the full moon?" Chan asks, biting your earlobe playfully with his sharp teeth. "What if I want to have my way with you every night?"

"Who needs sleep anyways?"

The End

#bang chan x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #chan x reader #chan smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfic #skz scenarios #stray kids #chan #writing

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satorusugurugurl · 4 months ago

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The Full Moon

Summary: You finally convince your werewolf fiancé to let you see his true form. One that he normally keeps hidden away from you due to the fact, he is so unbearably horny in his true form.

Pairing: Werewolf!Gojo Satoru X AFAB!Reader

Warnings: Primal play, ABO, werewolf, knotting, dirty, talk, oral, (female receiving) loud smex,, sex, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Kinktober day nine! Werewolf! I not too familiar with monster smex so think of him as like a wolf man hybrid! I hope you guys enjoy! I've had a really shitty week so this might be my best work! But I put my whole heart into it! 💚💚💚

“We shouldn't be doing this.” Satoru sighed as he watched you eagerly peek out the window. “I usually go home during the full moon.”

Annoyance crept up your spine like a autumn chill. “Toru, we've been over this.” you showed him your left hand, the engagement ring on you ring finger glitter. “I'm going to be your wife soon. I don't want you running off locking yourself in a pent house during a full moon. I'm going to be your wife. I’ll be there to help you.”

“Ughh!” He flopped dramatically back against the bed. “I hate that you have to see me like this.”

“Gojo Satoru.” you stood across the room, crawling on the bed with him. “I love you, every part of you.” Cerulean eyes narrowed as a silent warning. “Even the furry parts.”

“Oh my god, I don't turn into a giant wolf like the movies. I just grow some claws—and sharp teeth—and I get a little—and I mean a LITTLE hairy.”

You giggled, grinning softly as he wrapped his arms around you, yanking you onto his chest. He exhaled deeply through his nose the air moving your hair. His grip was tight, allowing you to feel the anxiety creeping through his body. You knew he was nervous, but deep down inside of the deepest parts if you, you knew it would be okay.

Satoru was a werewolf. Something you hadn't entirely believed at first. But when you saw his steel door barricaded apartment, you knew he was telling the truth. But he wasn't the type to go out killing people every fool moon, he mostly got—horny, maybe went after a few cats, but he never hurt anyone.

Which brings you to tonight. By some great other world, sleep power you were able to talk him into steam with you tonight. That way you could see all that happens when he transforms and everything else. You needed to know these things. It totally wasn’t to see how feral he became when he was under the influence of the moonlight.

“Satoru I love you no matter what. Hairy or not.” He smiled oh so lovingly at you as you stood up walking towards the window. “So would it be okay if I open the window?”

There was a hesitation in his eyes, but with a deep breath, he slowly nodded his head. “Yeah it’s fine, But if this gets too intense for you to handle, you need to tell me. It might take me a while to snap out of it, but I promise you I’m going to protect you.”

“I know, I just want you to know I love you no matter what.”

Without another word, you open the blackout curtains, allowing the moon to spill in through the window to flood the room. Nothing Really special happened at first. Satoru Just stared at the moonlight outside not saying much..but After a minute or two you could see his body trembling. You hadn’t been anticipating it to happen so fast. And seeing it in person was a bit of a shock.

His entire body shook his fingers dug into the sheets underneath him. “Toru?” You hesitantly, asked to stepping closer. “Are you okay? Do you need to stop? I can close the blinds and we can enjoy a nice quiet evening.” When he didn’t say anything, just curling himself in weird towards his body, as if he was in an immense amount of pain eared back out the window.. “Fuck maybe this is a bad idea. I guess you might be in for a long night Toru.”

The guilt didn’t even have a chance to fester within your stomach as you heard a growl from behind you. it was deep, dark and full of need. And That sound alone had you squirming.

“Oh sweetheart,” your shifted your weight from one leg to the other as a shiver ran down your spine at the voice came beside you, ‘You’re in for a long night.” Turning your head, you came face to face with Gojo as you stared into his glowing blue eyes.

“Toru,” you gasped out, reaching for him, “are you okay—” Before your hand could touch him, he grabbed your wrist, pinning you against the wall. The sudden action had you hissing through gritted teeth as you stared up at your werewolf boyfriend.

“You know what.” he licked his bottom lip, revealing sharp canines as thick hair covered his chest as he transformed into a werewolf. He learned in gently taking your bottom lip between his teeth and tugging at it gently, “You smell even better.” he tightened his grip on your wrists, careful not to hurt you as his sharp claws dug into your skin. “I can smell everything about you, and do you know what that means.” He leaned in closer to you, his face inches away from yours, “I can smell your arousal.”

Shivering, you whined, rolling your hips against nothing as you felt that same arousal coating your panties. “Mhmm fuck, you look so fucking sexy.” Your boyfriend tilted his head as a pure animalistic growl rose in his chest.

“Is this why you wanted me to stay?” Using his free hand, Gojo grabbed both sides of your face forcing you to look directly into his slitted pupils, “You wanted to fuck me when I’m like—.” Another growl sounded, sending heat to pool between your thighs, “A lunar-driven werewolf.”

You didn’t fight him because he had hit the nail in the head with the hammer. You did want to see him in his proper form because you were getting married. But there was also a different reason, a more selfish reason, why you wanted him to stay. You were so desperate to see him like this. Thinking about him and his apartment, horny and hopeless, had been your muse for your masturbation sessions for months.

“There’s no denying it, Sweetheart, I can smell your arousal.”

You scoffed, trying to play it off cool, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He laughed cocking an eyebrow up at your very blatant lie.

“You are such a liar.”

“N-No, I’m not!”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, shaking his head back and forth, “Please, you’re just gonna stand there looking up at me and not beg me to fuck you right here against the wall like a whole animal.” His teeth grazed over your neck. The sharpness of his fangs suddenly made you realize he was a predator.

“I guess I can’t deny that,” you whispered, watching his knee inch closer to your spread legs. “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it!”

“Thought about it?” He bowed, laughing, “Oh, Sweetheart, I’m going to need you to elaborate on that.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he narrowed his gaze, rolling his eyes as he grabbed your face.

“You think I’m lying to you?” He leaned in closer, “I can smell that so sweet slick that’s coating your panties,” he pushed your legs further apart, allowing him to slide his knee between them, “You need me just as bad as I need you. I need to be inside you to breed you, make you mine, in every way I can. I need to mark you up. Make sure no other pathetic male in this city looks at you.”

“Fuck you’re so territorial!” you shoved at him. Still, all your efforts were useless against his sturdy frame, “ I want that! I want you to lose control. I want you to make me mine in every way you possibly can! Please, Toru! I nee—” he cut you off by slamming his lips against yours causing your eyes to shut with desire.

There was no hesitation in your movements as you melted into the kiss. Years of adoration and love were poured into that shared kiss. Then, there was something deeper, more profound in that kiss. It was a hunger you had never sensed within your fiancé before. It was strange and foreign, but you liked it. Feeling him loose and slowly losing control over himself had you snaking your arms around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. Gojo loved feeling you growing more submissive with every presence of his lips against yours. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip before he shoved his tongue in your mouth, not giving you much of a chance to allow him entry.

He tasted fucking fantastic, like strawberries and cream, and that taste alone went straight to your pussy. He must have sensed your growing arousal as he pressed his knee against your pajama-cladded core. Moaning softly into his mouth, you raked your hands through his soft white hair as your tongues battled against each other, twisting and exploring every single inch. You were so lost in the kiss that you found yourself grinding down on his thigh, desperate for more than just kissing. You wanted him to give him to the beast deep within his soul.

Gojo pulled away the saliva, connecting your lips before he smirked. “Mate,” his eyes wandered down to your hips, watching as you shamelessly rocked against him, “Whose the horny beast now? Look at you letting into your desires, letting go into carnal desire.” Your fiance reached up, grabbing a handful of your hair and “Giving in to her alpha.” A chittering, rumbling growl rose in the back of his throat as he pulled your head back by your hair, causing a mewl of pleasure to spill out of your mouth, “And I fully intend to give everything to you, my sweet little omega.”

He tugged at your hair again, allowing him access to your neck, “T-Toru,” you whispered as he kissed and sucked on your neck so hard you knew you were going to have marks littering your pretty skin. He traced his tongue over the marks he had left behind, causing goosebumps to rise under his touch, “f-fuck.” you gritted through your teeth, feeling your body going limp under his talented touch.

“Nuh-uh.” he teased, whispering against your collarbone, “Be a good girl and stand up.” All you could do was nod, letting him know you understood. He grabbed both sides of your hips, “Stand up straight for me.” you obeyed his commands, standing up straight for him, “Spread your legs.”

You spread them to him, allowing him access to you. He licked his lips, dropping to his knees, ripping your shorts down with his sweats. The entire time those glowing animalistic eyes of his focused on the pretty cunt between your legs. Long-clawed nails hooked on either side of your lace panties before he ripped them off.

“Oh fuck, that's my sweet omega.” He leaned down, resting his nose against your mound, “Now be still, I’m going to get you off first..”

He pressed his tongue against your folds, lapping at them quickly with no hesitations. You screamed in pleasure as your legs started shaking. Gojo gripped your hips, holding you up straight up and completely still. But even under his robust and sturdy touch, you felt weak. His tongue lapped at your folds before he took your labia into his mouth, sucking greedily at them.

Reaching down, you grabbed a handful of his longer tufts of white hair. Every lap, kiss, and suck caused you to buck against his mouth, eager for more. Gojo seemed as enthusiastic as you were, losing to the inner beat inside of him. He was desperate to taste all of you, to feel you cum against his tongue. From the speed and roughness, he wasn't going to let up until his mouth and chin were covered in your slick. This was one of the many reasons he avoided you during the full moon: he couldn’t keep his hands, fingers, and mouth off of you.

“T-Toru!” Mewls and whimpers filled the bedroom, accompanied by the snarls and grills of the werewolf who was eating you out, “Toru, I-I’m close,” he only growled in response, taking one of his hands off your ass, trailing it between your legs. He thrust two fingers inside of you, your walls instantly clamping down on them as you let out some form of a moan, “Oh fuck, holy fuck.”

Pulling away for a split second, Gojo smirked, his lips glistening with your juices, all while his glowing blue eyes bore into yours, “Oh, Sweetheart, this is anything from holy.” His mouth instantly found your clit sucking and tugging at the bundle of nerves with his teeth.

“Ahh!!!” You shouted in ecstasy as he pumped his fingers deeper and faster inside of you. You tighten your grip on his hair as your orgasm begins building deep within your core, “I-I’m gonna cum, oh fuck Toru,” biting down on your bottom lip, your thighs began shaking and clamping down on his head, “Ah fuck, oh fuck me, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He increased the speed of his movements, pushing you, tumbling over the edge, “Satoru!!” You screamed as your body pulsated and trembled under his mouth and touch.

Gojo growled, like the werewolf he was, as he pumped his fingers faster, working you through your orgasm and drawing it out. It isn't until you think you'll pass out from the endorphins running through your system that Gojo finally stands. His eyes returned to his normal eyes for a split second before his lips curled back from his teeth as his sweats fell room around his rankles.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” He questions, pulling his massive cock out of his black boxers, “Are you going to finally submit your Alpha. Give in to those fantasies that I’ve been plaguing your mind?” Your mouth was suddenly dry as you forgot to speak and breathe, “Answer me, baby girl.” You nodded in response, only to hand him reach up and tug on your hair, pulling you close to his face, “That's not an answer.” He began rubbing the head of his cock against your wetness, teasing you, “Tell me, do you want me to fuck you like you have always imagined that omega?”

“Yes!” You finally managed to gasp out as he reached his hand up to tug gently on your hair, sending electricity through every nerve of your body, “I want you to fuck me senseless!”

“What's the magic word?” He barely pushed against your opening, sending your hips rocking towards him.

“Please! Please fuck me, alpha!”

That was all he needed to hear as he slid his cock between your wet lips. Your pussy twitched and stretched around him as he filled you inch by inch with his massive cock as groaned against your neck, continuing to push inside of you until he was completely seated inside your wet throbbing cunt to the end.

“God, you feel so fucking good. You.” He lifted you by the thighs, “Your pussy feels so good swallowing my cock like that, clutching around it.” Gojo smirked up at you as you looked down at him, moaning loudly, “You like that Omega? You like feeling my knotted cock deep inside of you?”

“Y-Yes, alpha!”

“Good girl,” he smirked against your skin, continuing to pound into you; every thrust sent shock waves to all of your nerves, “You take my cock soo good,” he growled, biting down on your ear, “You’re my little cock slut aren’t you?”

“Yes!”

He continued thrusting in you, fucking you against the wall of your shared bedroom. Not caring if the neighbors heard or if he knocked down every picture and art you meticulously placed on the wall. All that mattered to him at this moment was knotting you and marking you up with his teeth, so no other werewolf came near you. You were his, and he was yours.

So he fucked you like no other man or beast had fucked you before. It was fast, hard, and fan-fucking-tastic. His massive knotted cock hit your sweet spot with every single thrust. And with each drag out, the head of his cock brushed against the spongy bundle of nerves. Every single brush pushed you closer to the second orgasm that had begun to build inside of you.

Your finger slammed against the wall behind you as you’re right hand dug into the muscles in his back while wrapping your legs around his waist, “Fuck me, Satoru, fuck me, please!” Gojo snapped his hips faster fucking you harder against the wall, all while his head buried in the crook of your neck, nipping ad sucking at your pulse, “Yes, just like that!”

“You like that, sweetheart,” as he increased his speed, rocking faster and harder, your back rubbed up and down the metal, “take it,” he bit down hard into your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood, “You fucking love this, don’t you mate?”

You did love it; it was everything you had ever dreamed of, but it was ten times better! This was like every fantasy book you had ever read, and you were living your best dream!

“I do, God, I fucking love it!” you began rocking harder against Satoru feeling the coil in your lower stomach tighten, “I-I’m gonna cum Toru!” you cried out as he bit harder into your flesh.

“Yeah cum, cum all over my cock, Sweetheart,” was whimpering and whining like a dog in heat. One that had been so overcome by lust that he was losing himself in the pleasure, “Cum for me.”

The coil snapped, and you came for him hard. You let out a scream digging your heels into his ass while you dug your fingers into his back. Waves of pleasure washed every inch of your body as he continued fucking you, drawing your orgasm. With two more thrusts, he followed you right over the edge, his come spurting inside of you, coating your walls. You tighten your grip on him as he milks himself inside of you.

As the waves died, you were gasping for air, resting your head against his, “Oh my God, Toru. You’re never staying in that apartment alone ever again.” He chuffed, almost purring as he carried you towards the bed. You were most certain if he had a tail, he would be wagging it.

“Fine by me.” He growled as light from the shimmering moon outside highlighted the curves and muscles on his body as he forced your thighs apart. “Now, what do you say you let the big bad wolf in?”

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ellswritings · 6 months ago

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy

Derek Hale x Reader

TW: Mentions of blood and death, werewolfy things, Stiles being an absolute spaz, age gap, Jennifer Blake (cause she’s a warning on her own), major feels, and a tiny bit of angst, some bad words. I think that it y’all. Once again, let me know if I missed something!

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

There have always been two constants in Y/N L/N life when it came to living in Beacon Hills, life threatening creatures and the possibility of her imminent death. When she became friends with Stiles Stilinski and Scott McCall in Kindergarten, she wasn’t completely aware of what she signed up for. Most people would think the constant Star Wars marathons with Stiles and lacrosse training with Scott would’ve drove her away early on, but she stayed. Not that they’d let her leave even if she tried. Having them as her best friends has always been a blessing and a curse. She would do anything for them, but she didn’t know anything included becoming a supernatural creature.

A werewolf to be precise.

The night of the dance their sophomore year, Y/N had seen Lydia walk out of the dance in which she assumed was in search of Jackson. But when she saw the blonde boy lingering in the hallways, she had a feeling something was off. When she went in search of the girl and found her at the lacrosse field, there was no escaping their inevitable fate. That was one of the many times Y/N thought she’d meet her end. Watching Peter Hale run towards them at fully speed before taking a nice bite out of their skin was not on her bucket list for the evening.

Since then there have been plenty adventures for the “McCall Pack” as she’d like to call it. Allison’s grandfather Gerard coming to town, the Kanima, Derek and his pack trying to kill Lydia, then finding out it was Jackson, only to have him turn into a werewolf and run off to London. There might have been a couple kidnappings and restraining order somewhere in there, but those are minor details.

And, of course, with a new year comes new threats. There has been a recent string of kidnappings that turned into murders that none of them have been able to solve yet. They’ve tried as a group to brainstorm, meeting at Derek’s new loft every so often to get the entire groups opinion, but nothing has come out of it. Well, besides spending extra time with the Alpha. That’s an aspect Y/N didn’t mind in the slightest.

She had no issues making herself at home in his loft, despite his halfhearted protests. No one could understand how Y/N had the ability to just throw her feet up on his coffee table and not get her throat ripped out. It’s either she has no regard for her life, or Derek has a soft spot for her which is something no one saw coming.

The two have always had an interesting relationship. Y/N enjoys arguing, similar to Stiles hence why they get along so well. She loves getting under Derek’s skin and pushing every button she knows he has. It’s almost as if she goes out of her way to try and get a reaction out of him. No one blames her really, it gets entertaining hearing them go at it. Especially for Stiles.

Whenever anyone needs to ask Derek for a favor, the first person they send his way is Y/N. For one, they’ve only ever heard the word “yes” come out of his mouth when talking to her, and she’s the most likely one not to flinch if she has to kill him. She has a conscious, it’s just not always active.

Y/N rides up to Beacon Hills High on her motorcycle before parking in the thin spot near the bike rack. She carefully takes off her helmet, smoothing down any stray pieces of hair that might’ve fallen out of place. She had been told to go to Derek’s the night before to ask him if he’s found anything out about their new lethal friend, the only issue is when she got there, she could hear her new teacher Jennifer Blake in the apartment with him. She felt the urge to completely kick the door down and interrupt whatever conversation was happening, but she practiced a high level of self-restraint. She knew Derek was aware of her being there. He could smell her the same way she could him. But the hot white rage that filled Y/N’s chest forced her to walk away and ride angrily back to Stiles’s place.

Scott and Stiles watch their friend from the steps at the entrance to the school. Her ever present frown is a little troubling as it is much more prominent than usual. They didn’t get the full details about what angered her so much the night before, but it’s clearly still bothering her. She takes the keys out of her bike before stomping up to them. When she notices them staring at her, she lifts an eyebrow, “Something you wanna say?” She challenges. Both boys look at each other and simultaneously shoot her a fake smile.

“You– you look nice today,” Stiles comments awkwardly as he rubs the back of his neck. “Did you uh– did you do something new with your hair?”

Y/N stared at him blankly while Scott mentally facepalms at his friends attempt at covering up their concern. She simply shakes her head, looping her arms through both of theirs. “I’m fine if that’s what you guys are wondering. Derek was busy last night so I just came back to the house. That’s it,” she explains shortly, leaving no room for questions.

Scott scrunches his nose and a look of realization dawns on his face. It quickly morphs into disgust the more he thinks about it and Stiles furrows his eyebrows curiously. He looks over Y/N’s head and waits for his other best friend to clue him in on what’s got him all bothered. Scott makes sure Y/N’s more focused on weaving through the crowd before mouthing “She’s jealous” over to Stiles.

“I’m gonna grab my notebook real quick,” she tells them. “I’ll be right back.”

As soon as she reaches her locker, Stiles leans over to attempt a discreet conversation with Scott. “What do you mean she’s jealous?” He asks in a whisper. “Jealous of what?”

“I don’t know,” Scott answers, watching Y/N carefully. “But I’m assuming it had something to do with what happened at Derek’s last night.”

“Why would she be jealous over something with Derek?” Stiles scoffs, his eyebrows furrowed.

Scott shoots him a pointed look. Stiles is an absolute genius when it comes to certain topics, but girls and social cues are not one of them. His jaw drops slightly when he realizes what Scott’s implying. He rapidly shakes his head, flailing his arms in the air. “No– no, uh-uh. There’s no way. Absolutely not.”

“It’s not like you can stop it,” Scott chuckles. “If she likes him, she likes him.”

“Oh God,” Stiles groans disgustedly. “Out of all people? Sourwolf? Really?”

Scott shrugs with an amused smile as Y/N turns to start walking back, “The heart wants what the heart wants.”

“Okay, but does it have to want him?” Stiles continues to complain. “And if she’s jealous that means there was someone else there last night. Who? Because last I checked, Derek is a very acquired taste.”

“How would I know?” Scott replies. “Now shut up before she realizes we’re talking about her.”

The three of them made a pact awhile back that they wouldn’t eavesdrop on each other’s private conversations unless they were in danger. So they knew it would be safe to have said discussion despite Y/N’s enhanced hearing.

“You guys ready?” She asks.

Both nod vigorously, trying to hide their gossip, but their desperation to seem normal gives them away. Y/N simply rolls her eyes and says nothing. She once again links their arms together as they head towards their English class. No one needs werewolf senses to see how tense and angry Y/N got at the sight of Ms. Blake. The fury behind her eyes is one everyone in the pack has had to face at one point or another. Scott vividly remembers those eyes when Issac stole the last piece of her banana bread from when they went to the bakery they all love, and she threw him clear across his house.

Y/N separates herself from the boys, taking her spot next to Alison and Lydia while the boys sit down behind them. It’s a miracle how they all ended up in the same class. Y/N opens up her notebook, choosing to doodle rather than pay attention to whatever Ms. Blake is writing on the whit board in front of them. Alison looks at Y/N’s drawing with curiosity and smiles, “That’s really good,” she compliments.

It’s her beginning sketch to one of her favorite book characters, Sirius Black from Harry Potter. Y/N tries to muster a genuine grin, “Thanks,” she replies.

Alison isn’t clueless though. She can feel the difference in Y/N’s attitude from how she acts on a regular basis. She squints her eyes trying to silently figure it out before turning back to Scott who already knows what she’s wondering. What all of them were wondering. Who got Y/N so riled up? They know she’s jealous of something that happened with Derek, but who could she be jealous of?

“Alright, good morning everyone!” Jennifer greets with a smile that makes Y/N’s blood boil. She brings a hand up to play with her helix piercing to prevent her claws which will no doubt make an appearance by the end of this class. “Today, we're going to delve deeper into Shakespeare's Othello. I want you to focus on the themes of jealousy and manipulation that are littered throughout the text.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow on her teacher. The word “jealousy” feeling like a direct hit on their current situation. She cracks her neck before flipping to the page in their text book. She slouches in her chair, leg bouncing up and down. She quickly begins to run out of patience hearing the teachers heels click every time she takes a step.

“Y/N,” Jennifer calls out. “Why don’t you go ahead and start us off by reading the first paragraph?”

The grip Y/N has on her pencil tightens. There it is. Scott can not only smell it, but he can see it with his own eyes. The tension is more than palpable. Jennifer was the one at Derek’s last night. Y/N tilts her head, “Why can’t someone else do it?” She deflects coldly. “Lydia for example is quite the fan of our troubled poet.”

The challenge in her voice makes Jennifer hold back her own glare. She should’ve known Y/N would be the student to give her trouble from the beginning. The class shifts uncomfortably from the sudden chill in the air. “Y/N, it’s important for everyone to participate. Please, read the passage,” she requests with forced patience.

“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” the (h/c) haired girl answers, folding her hands together as she leans on the desk. “I have crippling anxiety when it comes to reading in front of people. You wouldn’t want to do something to cause a breakdown would you?” She asks in the most taunting voice possible.

Lydia and Alison both stare at their friend with confusion. Stiles has to sink low in his chair to hide the inevitable laughter that’s about to come out of his mouth. While Scott just covers his face with his hands, waiting for World War Y/N to take place in his English class.

Jennifer quirks an eyebrow, “Did you not just do the school play of Beauty and the Beast last month? Where you played Belle? The lead role?”

Silence.

“That’s different, Ms. Blake,” Y/N corrects. “Not that I’d expect you to understand, but playing a character and who I am in real life is completely separate.”

“Well, that’s perfect then,” she nods. “Why don’t you go ahead and read it in character for us?”

A strong scent of copper fills Scott’s nose. He glances down and sees Y/N’s claws dug deep into her thigh. Stiles notices Scott’s wide eyes and glances where he’s looking. When he sees the wide open wound his face turns pale white before he shuffles in his chair.

“What a fantastic idea,” Y/N quips sarcastically before glancing down at the page below her. As she begins to read, the passive aggressiveness in her tone is evident. “O, beware, my lord, of jealousy; It is the green-eyed monster which doth mock the meat it feeds on."

Her eyes lock with Jennifer's, and she can't help but add, under her breath but loud enough for her friends to pick up on, "How fitting"

Jennifer's expression hardens, but she maintains her composure. She leans on her desk while looking Y/N in the eye, “I would like a word with you after class Miss L/N,” she says coolly before continuing on with her lesson.

The glare on Y/N’s face never fades. She burns holes into the back of Jennifer’s head. Scott grew increasingly more worried that her eyes would flash, giving away her secret for all to see. All four of her friends exchange worried glances. Y/N’s never really been one to get in trouble on her own accord. She’s gotten detention, but ninety percent of the times it’s because Scott and Stiles roped her into it. The boys take it upon themselves to text Lydia and Alison, informing them of their theory of what is causing Y/N’s sudden aggression.

Lydia purses her lips together as she reads the texts. She leans back to whisper to Stiles, “This should be interesting…”

The rest of the class drags on, time ticking fairly slow. Y/N doesn’t say much, but the nasty looks she shoots cut more deeply than any words ever could. Halfway through the period, Stiles places his hand on her back to help keep her calm, which she wouldn’t admit, helped a lot. When the bell finally rings, the students begin to file out. Y/N stays behind, her anger barely contained. Scott, Stiles, Alison, and Lydia linger outside the door, trying to listen in on the upcoming confrontation.

Y/N rolls her eyes as she slings her bag over her shoulder. She approaches Jennifer’s desk with a sickly sweet smile. The teacher doesn’t buy it though. “Y/N, what is going on with you today?” She questions firmly, feigning concern for the younger girl.

Y/N shakes her head, producing the most innocent face she could. “Going on with me? Nothing at all, Miss Blake. I am doing just dandy. Why do you ask?"

Jennifer bites the inside of her cheek, narrowing her eyes, but she manages to keep her tone measured. "Your behavior today has been disruptive and disrespectful. You are a talented and well-read young woman. I expected more from you."

Y/N chuckles, leaning more of her weight on her left side, popping her hip to show just how much she truly cares about this conversation. “Oh, I’m sure you do, given your high standards and all. It must be exhausting to keep up appearances,” she comments with a deceptive charm.

The older woman’s nostrils flare, knowing exactly what she’s trying to get at. Of course this is what her behavior is all about. Jennifer takes a deep breath, “Y/N, your comments today were out of line. This isn’t about keeping up appearances, it’s about maintaining respect in the classroom."

Y/N walks closer to her desk with a sly smile. She traces her finger up the wood, rubbing the dust in between her fingers. “Respect? Funny you should mention that. It seems respect is a bit... selective around here."

Jennifer's patience finally snaps, though she tries to mask it with a strained smile. “Y/N, your insinuations are inappropriate. Whatever issues you think exist, this isn't the place to air them."

Y/N barely even makes eye contact with the woman, flicking off the small dust bunny she formed with her fingers. “Of course,” she agrees mildly. “From now on, I’ll make sure to be more… discreet.”

Her teacher’s eyes flash with irritation, “You know what? Your behavior today has been unacceptable. Detention. After school. I expect to see you here as soon as the bell rings.”

Y/N opens her mouth to argue, but the look in Jennifer's eyes stops her. She storms out of the classroom, her friends quickly falling into step beside her. Stiles trips over his own footing as he tries to grab Y/N’s wrist, “Would you just– Jesus– Y/N. Slow down!” He exclaims, finally catching her. He grabs onto her, holding the girl in place.

Y/N raises her eyebrows, “What?” She bites out. “I have to get to Calc.”

“Care to explain what the hell is going on with you?” Lydia tries to coax the information out of her. She knows it’s never good for Y/N out of all people to keep things bottled.

“Nothing’s going on with me,” she denies. “I’m fine. Are we done here?” She scoffs, spinning on her heel to walk away.

Scott runs in front of her, “Y/N, we just want to help,” he insists softly.

“I don’t need your help!” She snaps. The wounded expression on his puppy dog face makes Y/N groan at her actions. She runs a hand over her face, “Look Scotty, I appreciate it. I appreciate all of you, really, I do. It means a lot that you care so much, but this isn’t something that I feel like talking about right now. I need space and time to plot out her murder and then maybe we can have a discussion later, okay?” She says nonchalantly, kissing Scott’s cheek before walking off to her calculus class.

They all stand there stunned for a moment. Stiles watches after her, pointing at the girl and turning back to his friends, “Did she– did she just say plot her murder?”

“Yup,” Alison nods, popping the “p.”

As the school day goes on, Scott and Stiles continuously try to monitor Y/N and her behavior. Something about her unhinged jealousy is putting everyone on edge. Luckily, the advanced classes they don’t have with her, Lydia does. So whenever they can’t be together, they assign someone else to watch over her.

When Lydia reports back, they’re all slightly shocked to hear that she was absolutely fine in all of her other classes. Which only affirms their theory that Ms. Blake was in Derek’s apartment last night, and that’s why Y/N acted the way that she did.

When the final bell of the day rings, Y/N growls under her breath, knowing she has to spend the next hour or so with Jennifer Blake in an enclosed space. She marches down the hallway, mumbling profanities under her breath before pushing the door to her classroom open. Stiles and Scott watch from afar, the latter trying to listen in for any painful screams. But knowing Y/N, if she truly were to murder someone, it wouldn’t be loud or obvious.

Y/N furrows her eyebrows when she sees Jennifer packing up her desk. When the woman hears her door open, she glances over in her students direction. “Miss L/N, I hope you had a good and reflective rest of your day,” she comments, clearly not interested in Y/N’s day whatsoever.

Y/N doesn’t bother responding. She simply stares at her straight faced with her arms crossed. Her patience is dwindling the longer they stand there. Jennifer picks up her handbag before sending Y/N the nastiest smile she could.

“Well, Mr. Harris should be here in a couple of minutes to oversee your detention, so you can wait in your seat until he arrives.”

Y/N’s eyes narrow, “And why exactly am I waiting for Mr. Harris? Weren’t you the one to give me a detention?”

Her teacher smirks, “Yes, yes I was,” she answers with a shrug.

“Then wouldn’t it be your responsibility to oversee it? You can’t just hand out detentions and not stick around for it,” Y/N scoffs.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be leaving like this. I would happily spend the next hour of my life lecturing you on proper classroom etiquette, but I have certain plans tonight that I’ve been looking forward to. So Mr. Harris has agreed to take you off my hands,” she explains.

Y/N can smell her smugness. Only if she demonstrated this side of herself in front of the class. Y/N clenches her hand tightly, feeling her claws emerging from her actual nails. Anger rushes through her, but she pushes it back with a curt nod. “How interesting. Do you mind me asking who these plans happen to be with?”

Jennifer cockily leans forward, whispering in Y/N’s ear, “You know exactly who they’re with.” Then she pulls away from the young girl, walking out of the classroom without a second glance.

The werewolf’s eyes flash a bright yellow as she watches Jennifer stalk off. She squeezes them shut, trying to avoid any kind of outburst. Her frustration grows by the second, her heart beating abnormally fast as she hears Jennifer getting in her car to no doubt drive to Derek’s loft. A red hot fire fills her soul as she makes a decision that will no doubt have consequences later. But she would rather serve a two hour detention with Harris than watch Derek be with that woman.

Y/N storms out of the classroom, running down the hallway. She ditches her detention, figuring she could come up with an emotional enough lie to relieve the punishment afterwards. Her backpack bounces up and down, smacking into her tailbone as she runs. Her feet pump as fast as they possibly can as she runs through the greenery of the woods. She doesn’t have to pay attention to where she is because her body already knows where it’s going. Almost as if she’s called to be there, her inner wolf begging to move faster.

When she finally slows down, she’s directly in front of the door to Derek’s loft. Her chest rises and falls with her shallow breaths as she simply stares at the door. She didn’t see or hear Jennifer’s car, so that means their’s still time. She licks her lips out of nervousness before hesitantly bringing her hand up to the door, knocking on it softly.

She waits anxiously, wiping her now sweaty hands on her jeans. Y/N’s not used to feeling like this ever. She doesn’t get nervous. Most of the time, she’s the most confident person anyone could meet. Hence why she was friends with Lydia before she even knew Stiles existed. When she goes over to Derek’s, she never usually feels like this. Like her heart might just beat out of her chest if she doesn’t see him. She fights off the small whimper threatening to escape her throat. She doesn’t need to be nervous and embarrassed when he answers the door.

Y/N rocks back and forth on her feet, growing more weary as time passes. Silence fills the air around her and she suddenly feels the urge to throw up when she hears footsteps growing closer. She silently prays he can’t smell how absolutely out of sorts she is. Her inner monologue to give herself a confidence boost doesn’t do much when she sees his shadow at the bottom crack of the door. When the door swings open, it reveals a very dressed up Derek Hale. His face turns into one of confusion when he sees her standing in front of him.

“Y/N,” he greets, completely shocked by her presence. “What are you doing here?”

“Uh– I– um,” she stumbles over her words which causes Derek to look at her with curiosity. She’s not the type to be at a loss for something to say. That’s one of the things he admires about her. She sucks in a deep breath, “I just needed to see you,” she answers.

Derek steps aside slightly, allowing her into his apartment. When she walks in she can’t help but feel safe. This loft has almost turned into her home away from home. She’s here more often than anyone else out of the pack, and Issac lives here. It isn’t until now that Derek can smell the mix of emotions radiating off of her. It’s a concoction of things and he can’t tell which is the primary source of her unannounced appearance.

“What’s this about?” He asks her with a lifted brow.

Y/N sighs, trying to blink back the intermittent flashing of her eyes. “I know someone was here last night,” she reveals. “I came by and heard her. Then I find out today that you two apparently have plans,” she continues getting progressively more irritated. “Which didn’t make sense to me because I thought you were smarter than that.”

Derek crosses his arms, his own anger rising at her tone. He’s used to her empty sarcasm and insults, but this time it’s fueled by actual emotion which sets him equally on edge. “It’s none of your business who I have plans with, Y/N,” he says shortly.

Y/N laughs humorlessly, “None of my business? It is absolutely my business if the person you have these plans with is a complete stranger!” She exclaims loudly. “We don’t know her Derek. She could be the person behind all these killings and kidnappings and we wouldn’t be any the wiser!”

“Your teacher?” He challenges. “Responsible for everything that’s going on?” He chuckles at the obscurity. “Right. I’m sure that’s it,” he shakes his head at the accusation. “Isn’t the whole point of making plans to get to know someone? So wouldn’t it be nice if I did go out with her?”

“She’s manipulating you,” Y/N insists. “And you’re obviously too blind to even see it.”

“Why do you care so much?” Derek asks, his voice elevating as well.

“Because–” She waves her hands around exasperatedly, trying to find the words. “You’re not exactly known for your taste in women!” She all but scolds. “Remember Kate? The lady that up and killed your entire family. Well, I remember her so forgive me for trying to keep your stupid werewolf ass alive!”

Derek goes to retaliate but that’s when he hears it. Her heart rate speeds up. She’s lying to him. That’s not why she really cares. He can clearly see her anger and smell the annoyance radiating off of her, along with a couple of other things. But there’s a sweet smell accompanying it. One that Derek finds rather endearing. Jealousy. Y/N L/N is jealous. He wouldn’t have picked up on it if she hadn’t just blatantly lied. Suddenly her bursting in and berating him makes sense. He smirks when he notices her clenched fists. It’s about time she’s felt the green-eyed monster that constantly visits him when he sees her with other guys. When she’s laughing boisterously about something Scott said, whenever she comes over to see him but ends up talking to Isaac for hours on end. Especially when he found out she kissed Stiles last year after he was kidnapped by Gerard. It truly has been a miracle that no one ever sensed his jealousy when it came to her.

Derek takes a step forward, closing the distance between them. “Why did you really come here, Y/N?” He asks lowly, trying to get her to admit her feelings. “Tell me what you’re really trying to say…”

Y/N feels her face flush as he gets closer. She doesn’t want him to know the real reason why she raced across town to be here. The walls begin to close in around her, so she lashes out in a last ditch effort to protect herself.

“I’m trying to look out for you! You’re stubborn, Derek,” she chastises. “You don’t listen to anything anyone tells you. You like to pretend you’re always ready and prepared for anything, but you’re not! You are just as emotional and vulnerable as everyone else despite being hurt as many times as you have! You’re reckless when it comes to women, so I’m simply trying to make sure you don’t hurt yourself or the pack by making a stupid mistake.”

His jaw tightens, but he doesn’t back down. In fact, he gets closer to her in attempts to pressure it out of her. “You’re avoiding my question, Y/N,” he says darkly. “What’s really going on?”

Feeling cornered, Y/N tries to take in a couple of deep breaths but it fails miserably. She can’t tell him. Not now. Not when he’s interested in another women who’s already on her way here. He even got dressed up for her. She’s never seen Derek in a white button up polo and slacks. It makes her frown thinking that it’s not for her. She scoffs softly before shaking her head, “Forget it,” she mumbles. The h/c haired girl pushes past him, shoulder checking him on her way to the door. “I shouldn’t have come here. Have fun on your date or whatever you wanna call it.”

She slams the door behind her before stomping down the flight of stairs that leads up to his building. When she walks outside, the sky opens up, almost mimicking her inner turmoil with its own storm. Rain pours down on her, soaking her clothing completely as she gets ready to run home, or in all truth, to Stiles house. All she knows is that she can’t be here anymore.

“Y/N, wait!” Derek calls out.

She doesn’t bother turning around, heading the exact way she came. She should’ve figured that he would’ve caught up to her with ease. He’s never had a problem showing her who’s in charge. He grabs her wrist gently but firmly, not allowing her to leave.

“Stop running away,” he commands. “Just tell me the truth.”

Y/N’s eyes once again begin flashing yellow, differing completely from her regular piercing e/c gaze. “Let go of me, Derek,” she demands with a bit of a growl in her voice.

“Not until you stop being so damn hardheaded!” He yells, trying to make his voice heard over the pounding rain. “Tell me!”

“Why do you even care?!” Y/N screams back. “Why does it matter when you’re already here waiting for another woman?”

Derek’s eyes soften slightly, and he pulls Y/N closer to him by her wrist. Her breath hitches in her throat as her hand practically rests on his muscular chest. His lips are so impossibly close that any coherent thought she had before this moment have been completely erased from her long and short term memory.

“Because I need to hear you say it,” his voice got impossibly low, sending a chill through her body that has nothing to do with the cold water hitting her back.

Y/N’s lips part slightly as his thumb comes up to brush the side of her cheek. Her body is drawn to him. The wolf inside of her is trying to claw its way out and into his arms, but she manages to steady herself. “Fine,” she breathes out, not being able to force herself to look away. “I’m jealous, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear? That it made me want to commit first-degree murder last night when I heard her voice in your apartment, knowing that it would’ve been me in there if I had shown up just a tad bit earlier? So yes, Derek, I am jealous. You win.”

Derek’s eyes darken at the breathiness of her voice. He places the hand that was holding her wrist on her waist to keep her pressed securely against his front. Both of their hearts beat in unison, “Why didn’t you just say that when I asked the first time?”

Y/N’s defense starts to crumble beneath her, “Because I didn’t want you to think I was weak for succumbing to something stupid like that,” she admits.

Derek laughs, showing off his pearly white teeth, “I would’ve never thought you were weak.” He reassures when he notices the small frown etched on her face. “You’ve never been weak. A bit obstinate? Sure. But not weak.”

Y/N can feel the sincerity in his voice. She doesn’t protest his strong hold on her hip, but instead keeps her own hands occupied on his now soaked through white shirt. It’s not a bad view from where she’s standing. “I don’t think I can do this,” she whispers.

Derek’s eyebrows furrow, a pang of concern filling his heart. “Do what?”

“Keep pretending that I don’t care about you,” she says softly, her chest heaving up and down from how intense the moment they are sharing is.

Derek’s eyes flash their bright alpha red as a primal instinct clouds his brain. He leans close to her face, his stubble rubbing her cheek in just the right way. “Then don’t,” he says huskily.

Before she can respond, he leans in and kisses her, the rain pouring down around them. The kiss is intense, filled with all the emotions they’ve both been keeping at bay. It’s a collision of desire and frustration, their lips moving against each other with a desperate want. A primal need inside both of them. Y/N wraps her hands around his neck, tugging at the short strands of his black hair. Derek wastes no time placing both of his hands on her waist, squeezing the soft flesh. She giggles slightly from the sensation, making him smile. When they finally pull apart, they’re both breathless.

Y/N steps back, her heart racing, but Derek keeps his arm around her, protectively. “How come you ran away?” He asks quietly.

Y/N huffs, running a hand through her wet hair. She sighs loudly before admitting the truth, “I was scared.”

“Of what?” He questions, not believing the woman in front of him would be scared of anything.

“Of this,” she states obviously, gesturing in between them. “Of how much I feel for you. I’m not really big on emotions like this. I don’t know how to handle it. So I was scared of having to open up my heart when I wasn’t sure if you’d actually take care of it.”

The vulnerability in her answer snaps something in Derek’s mind. She has the same issues as he does. He hasn’t been able to truly give himself to anyone since Paige. He felt so strongly for her and then she was gone in an instant. And when he tried again with someone he didn’t even fully trust, he got burned again. Emotions besides anger have never been his forte. So when he hears Y/N admitting the same thing, it makes him realize that this is something they both can improve on.

He grins, kissing her forehead softly, “You don’t have to be scared. We can figure it all out together, okay? Both of us.”

At that moment, a car pulls up, and Derek pulls Y/N even tighter into his chest. The bright headlights blind them and they both try to shield their eyes in order to identify the owner of the vehicle. Y/N’s body tenses as Jennifer steps out, the woman’s expression shifting from surprise to anger as she sees them.

“Well, isn’t this a surprise,” she comments coldly. Her eyes zero in on Y/N who has a rather tight grip on Derek’s shirt, “Miss L/N, shouldn’t you be at school serving the detention you earned today for your behavior in my class?”

“I had better things to do,” Y/N bites back. “As you can see,” she says, pointing at Derek’s chiseled form.

A shit-eating grin forms on Derek’s lips at her words. They both swear they see Jennifer’s eye twitch from the insinuation Y/N just made. He doesn’t bother trying to cover up what just happened and keeps his hands firmly on Y/N’s hips.

“Yes, I can see that,” Jennifer narrows her eyes at their proximity.

Derek can feel the situation getting ready to escalate so he keeps Y/N safeguarded within his hold. He nods over to Jennifer’s car, “I think it would be best if you left,” he states unforgivingly making Y/N smile.

Jennifer sends them both a pointed look, “I think so too,” she agrees before spinning on her heel and walking back towards her car. “We’ll see just how well this works out for the two of you. Let’s hope you don’t regret it.”

She closes the drivers side door before speeding off out of the parking lot. Both Derek and Y/N are left standing in the rain, now knowing that things have just become a lot more complicated than they were before. But even in the midst of her subtle threat and imminent danger, the two of them don’t seem worried in the slightest.

Because they’ll handle that together too.

#teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #derek hale #derek hale x reader #derek hale imagine #stiles stilinski #scott mccall #lydia martin #alison argent #teen wolf season 3 #beacon hills #jennifer blake

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m00neroni · 5 months ago

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prompt: patronus. @wolfstarmicrofic word count: 739 september 8th ao3 post

“This is impossible” Sirius huffs and sits back in one of the few scattered chairs around the DADA classroom, clearly defeated. “What’s that shit about happy memories? Fucking idiotic, it’s not even working.”

“Have we finally found a spell that not even the great Sirius Black can perform? Should we call the Prophet? Inform the Ministry?” James jokes from his seat at Remus’ right, and he only receives a glare in return, when any other person would have been hexed into the next year just before they finished the sentence.

Remus considers it a bit hypocritical, seeing as James is also struggling with it, only having managed to conjure a faint silvery mist, the same as Peter. Remus, for his part, hasn’t even tried yet, scared of its possible corporal form.

Still, he knows the drill and can help his friend.

“You’re thinking too much and too loud, Sirius.” He says, kindly, because the other boy’s frustration is too evident and it seems like the best approach. “Which memory are you using?”

“When the Hat sent me to Gryffindor.” Sirius replies, almost in a whisper, genuinely pouting like a baby.

“See? That’s the problem.” Remus says. “That memory isn’t good enough.”

“Why not?” His friend frowns, clearly confused but he doesn’t look hurt or offended. “It’s the happiest memory I can think of.”

“But it’s tainted, Pads.” He presses, not unkindly, and leans forward to touch Sirius’ forearm. “You were stressed and worried and your family were horrible just about twenty minutes later it happened. You need something without negative connotations.”

“Excellent piece of advice, Mr Lupin!” Professor Musgrove’s voice hollers from behind them. “Our chosen memories must be as pure as possible, free of bad feelings. Even if we think happiness is overruling them, sometimes the hurt is too sharp to be defeated. Please, my boy and resident assistant teacher, will you demonstrate the spell to the class?”

“Sir, I don’t–”

“I insist!” The man ignores him. “Your theoretical knowledge should be enough, and you clearly are in control of your feelings.”

Yeah, I wish I was, you twat.

Remus grimaces towards his friends, trying not to notice how Sirius is staring right into his eyes, and stands up. He should have shut up, but Sirius needed his help and he just… Whatever now, too late.

The werewolf closes his eyes and tries to find a good memory, quickly falling for the morning of the first Full Moon after his three mates knew what happened to him once a month, about the monster. After the moment they accepted him completely, and without asking anything in return. It might go against the idea of it not being tainted by bad sensations (the transformation is horrible on its own, obviously) but the happiness he felt when he woke up and saw Sirius sleeping in that uncomfortable chair right next to his bed.

The others have joined here and there, but Sirius has always been the constant feature. It is he who Remus thinks about for this.

“Expecto Patronum.”

He would have known it had worked even without the collective gasp of his classmates, just by how the air moves around him and the tip of his fingers tickle. It is a wonderful sensation, so, even if he is scared shitless of facing the reality and whatever comes next, Remus opens his eyes slowly.

The silvery figure is clearly and evidently canine and massive, but that is where the similarities with Moony end. The snout is different, the ears bigger and the paws less menacing. Even the doggy grin is an exact replica of Padfoot’s.

Remus’ hearts stop for a second there, but he can’t look anywhere else, too entranced and shocked by the implications.

“Amazing! Look at that–!”

“Expecto Patronum.”

Sirius’ deep voice cuts the air and the teacher’s praising, conjuring a mist that quickly takes form almost as big as the one in front of Remus, a shape that he hasn’t seen in front of him ever in his life but has been described enough to him that Remus could recognise anywhere. The eyes, though, are the exact same ones he sees in the mirror every day, and he has almost a full minute to be shocked before the impressive spirit of Moony joins Padfoot in a tackle game.

“Well, who could have expected this?” James chuckles, and Remus finally looks at Sirius.

Who could have expected this, indeed.

#marauders #harry potter #marauders fandom #marauders fanfiction #marauders microfic #wolfstar microfic #patronus #soulmates #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar #remus x sirius #marauders era #marauders tumblr #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfiction #mooneroni writes

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mrs-elsie-barnes · 1 month ago

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Cariad | Werewolf!Bucky Barnes x Fae!Reader | One shot 2.3k

After a forced night out with your fellow fae ‘friends’ ends in a trail of your fairy dust, it’s your werewolf roommate who takes the blame.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of violence, blood, bad friends and bad ex boyfriends. Bucky is a cutie pie puppy (werewolf) and reader is a fae with wings.

A/N: Very loosely based on the story of Beddgelert. Cariad - darling in Welsh.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika-graphics

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes

“Come on, you can’t stay cooped up in your flat all night.”

Your friends pounded their fists on the door of your apartment, calling through the keyhole and begging you to come out with them.

Friends might be too generous, women who also worked at the shitty diner down the street and also happened to be fae was more accurate. That seemed enough license for them to come and bother you, but it was never quite enough for you to really open up to them or for them to offer you a place to stay when you left your disgusting ex, John.

“I don’t want to, I’m fine here,” you shouted back, lounging against the arm of the sofa, your feet in your roommate, Bucky's, lap and a bowl of popcorn on your own. You tossed a kernel across to Bucky and he caught it with a snap between his preternaturally sharp teeth. You giggled and he grinned, flashing his long canines, before returning his attention to the terrible reality show you were both watching.

The two of you had been watching the series from the start and had become increasingly close over the last six weeks since you moved in. Bucky always made sure you had popcorn, a blanket, which he spread over your legs, and something fun to drink, either a cocktail, a glass of wine or, one week, a huge hot chocolate covered with marshmallows.

Despite your reservations about moving in with a were, he was really a lovely roommate. He kept mostly to himself apart from your TV nights, which you looked forward to more and more, enjoying the feel of his warmth so close to you, the heady scent of his musky cologne and his ringing laughter that always made you smile.

In fact the only downside seemed to be that he shed hair like a large dog, but then you left fairy dust everywhere so it worked out evenly in the end.

Plus after living with John and his volatile nature, being able to predict Bucky’s mood around the moon cycle was actually more reassuring than scary. You’d expected him to be grumpy, snappy, even a little mean when the moon was full, but instead he just stuck around the flat and, if anything, was friendlier, touching your elbow or the small of your back, brushing his leg against yours on the sofa and, as he was now, massaging your feet after a long day at work. His instinct was to nest and seek comfort, following you around like a lost puppy, a huge, muscular, lost puppy.

“You can go out if you want, doll, don’t stay in on my account,” he said, not taking his eyes off the screen.

Bucky liked to stay in around the full moon. It wasn’t that he was dangerous as a wolf, he could still control himself, but everything felt so much…more. He was always a little more territorial when the moon was at its fullest, seeking the comfort of a familiar space and, increasingly, wanting to make sure that you were protected.

In reality, he’d have liked to keep you exactly where he could see you and keep you safe, but he’d never been the kind of guy to trap someone like that. He liked seeing you smile. If going out made you smile, then he’d try and suck it up… okay, he’d be a grump, but he certainly wouldn’t be letting you know that, even if it meant you wouldn’t be here to scratch behind his ears to keep him calm when the moon rose.

“I like staying in with you.” You poked him with a fluffy sock covered toe and earnt his fingers tickling you in return.

“Well, that’s settled then. Go away!” he shouted at your friends, still banging on the door.

Quiet reigned for all of two minutes before your phone started pinging.

You’re allowed to leave,you know?

Tina, of course, was always starting the arguments about Bucky.

He can’t control you

Morgan, desperate to be the ringleader of the group, but falling very far short.

So that was two of your friends chipping in, that just left Jenny.

Leave the dog at home and come out with us, I promise we won’t see John.

She was the biggest barrier to your friendship. Their personal attitude towards Bucky went way beyond the suggestions that he kept you trapped in the flat somehow and ended up in slurs. She’d use any opportunity to take a dig at him, especially if she knew he could hear.

No.

You text back, slamming the phone down on the arm of the sofa, but they continued to text and text and text until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Ugh, God fine!” you bellowed across the room, your wings glittering and flashing red with fury, sprinkling fairy dust in your wake as you stomped across the room and yanked the door open.

“One fucking drink and then I’m coming home, just to prove that I can leave whenever I want.”

You glowed with anger as you slammed your bedroom door, emerging a few moments later with a crumpled dress on and a pair of heels. On your way past the mirror, you rubbed a finger below each eye to tidy your makeup.

“Have fun, Fairy, see you soon.” Bucky smiled, squeezing your hand over the back of the sofa. “I promise I’ll watch something else so we can see who gets voted out together.”

Dutifully, he flicked the TV off.

“Let’s go,” you said, allowing your friends to drag you out of the door while Bucky waved them off.

There was no way Bucky was really going to let you go out alone on the full moon. Although you’d have that gaggle of fae around you, he didn’t trust them not to abandon you at the first sign of trouble and, despite his lone wolf status, he knew that there were plenty of other wolves and shifters about just waiting to pounce should the opportunity arise.

Waiting until you’d at least left the building, Bucky sprang up from the sofa, looking out at the last of the sunset before he shook off the blankets, then his clothes and then his human form. Dragging his nails along the hardwood he clambered out the window and onto the fire exit. Scenting your perfume as you rounded the corner onto the next block, he couldn’t help but let out a howl, leaping onto the roof of the adjoining building and beginning his watch.

Fairy dust.

It was everywhere, sparkling like glitter, the scent of vanilla frosting, but twice as sweet. It glimmered a path towards the alley way and, as Jenny rounded the corner, it was all she could see.

Despite the sparkling impairment, she could still hear your scream, ringing in her ears.

Tina and Morgan fell out of the side door of the nightclub, stumbling on their heels and dominoing forwards until all three fae were piled together on the cold, filthy ground. The golden shimmer of your fairy dust was all that let them know you’d been there.

Sometime after the third round of shots and your fourth complaint that you wanted to go home, you’d edged away from them, towards the exit. That’d been fifteen minutes ago, when a were approaching Morgan at the bar had prompted the conversation to turn to Bucky again and what a disgusting, unsuitable, roommate they all thought he was. You rolled your eyes. If only the knew how bad John had been.

Tina had only stopped when they’d all had a chance to complain about his taste in clothes, his solitary nature and even his smell, when she noticed that you hadn’t said anything in a while and their hunt for you began.

Eventually, trailing a story of you and a tall man with dark hair from the bar to the back doors, they had ventured outside.

“Look!” Jenny declared, spotting a spec of blood higher up on the alley wall. She fluttered her yellow wings and got closer to inspect it, running a finger through the smear, blood. “It’s blood! Call the Police!”

Tina immediately started to dial as the three fae set off as fast as their wings could carry them, following the trail of blood.

The trail wound between each block from the club to your street using the darkest back streets and alleyways. Morgan had conjured a ball of light to follow, but the three fae were still anxious to be back in the street lights or, better yet, back inside their own locked homes.

It was a full moon after all, a foolish night to be out, drunk and alone.

Everyone they met confirmed that an injured fae had passed by with a brunette man and the trio’s imaginations ran riot, thinking of all the horrible things they were sure Bucky was doing to you for leaving the flat.

As they turned onto your street, the blood seemed to stop but, at a run, they continued towards your apartment building.

From the outside, it looked as if Bucky was still watching television, the blue and white flashing of the screen lighting up the window and the patch of ceiling they could see from the doorstep below.

Then a figure appeared, a huge figure with pointed ears and long arms ending in claws that seemed to go on forever, elongated by the shadows cast across the walls. It reared up and then, just as quickly, it ducked down. No doubt to complete whatever awful ritual it was that weres enjoyed on the full moon, killed and eating fae no doubt.

Jenny screamed and began running up the short steps to the foyer, forcing her way past your confused looking neighbours.

In the street, Morgan, rooted to the spot in horror, watched as the werewolf lifted a body in its arms and moved away from the window. Tina grabbed her hand and dragged her up the stairs to follow Jenny.

Blood. Blood. Blood. That was all Bucky could think as he paced the living room, his fur matted with it, the scent filling his senses, stinking and hot and foul. He took a deep shuddering breath, willing the wolf inside of him to quiet. It paced in his mind, snarling and growling at any thought he sent its way, the thought of another man’s hands on you, the thought of you at the bar, unprotected and alone.

Blood. Blood. Blood.

He heaved a breath in and dropped his head into his hands, groaning as his body calmed. He tried to stay still, not wanting to cause anymore damage or spread the blood any further than his stumbling body already had.

You were covered in it too, your wings heavy and drooping down your back. The iridescent shine was dulled, your breath coming in shallow, rasping sobs.

But no sooner had Bucky caught his breath than the hair on the back of his neck stood on end, his senses telling him that danger was still approaching.

Looking up, he finally saw Tina, Morgan and Jenny standing in the door, staring open mouthed at his blood covered body. His fur, where it was longer across his head, was matted together and his paws left red marks against the white walls when he pulled away, shrinking back, ears flat to his head and tail tucked between his legs.

Jenny screamed, a blood curdling, piercing scream causing the neighbours to open their doors. Bucky’s ears twitched, and his soulders slumped, his hearing enhanced by his current form.

“He killed her! He killed her! Look at that blood!” Jenny screached.

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, unable to do anything but let out a low howl of pain at the thought of doing anything to hurt you.

“We know it’s her blood, on you!” Morgan shouted.

Bucky was shaking now, the wolf desperate to fight back while Bucky tried to tame him. He knew being aggressive would make it worse, but he was having a hard time keeping his body in check in such a small space. He backed his way to the wall and slid down onto his hackles, the hair on his neck still raised, and gave a sharp bark of warning.

“We knew you’d turn on her, you were mad she went out!”

He shook his head again, his howl now a constant, pained, wail.

Then he couldn’t hear anything.

Tina, Morgan and Jenny had brimmed with magic as they cornered him, but now he was behind a wall of light watching your friends and neighbours back away, forced out of the door by your power.

Bucky grabbed around your waist so he could get close enough to press his muzzle into your neck, scenting you roughly in the hopes of calming the wolf.

You fell back into his arms, spent from using the last of your energy on defending Bucky, but safe in his arms.

“I’m okay, Buck,” you whispered, tired and breathy, digging your hands into his fur.

He scooped you up into his arms again, the same way he’d carried you home after John’s attack just an hour before and held you close.

“I’m with you, I’m okay.” You gave a weak smile, placing your hand on his muzzle as the fur faded and the wolf disappeared for another month, leaving your hand on his stumbled cheek. He turned into your warmth, placing a delicate kiss on your palm and kept you there for a moment, your eyes locked and then he dipped his head, brushing his lips against yours.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes/reader #Bucky Barnes x female!Reader #Bucky Barnes/female reader #bucky x female reader #Bucky fluff #bucky #fae! reader #fairy!reader #were!Bucky #werewolf bucky barnes

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solelifauna · 3 months ago

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When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

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gynnnicsworld · 2 months ago

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REC LIST STEREK PART II

So I was going to make a well-structured rec list, but the more I try to organize it, the less I can find a proper order. So I decided to do it from the most recently read fic to the oldest one in my AO3 history.

__________________________________________

Get You The Moon

BY: AClosedFicIsNeverRead

words: 180.785

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR - The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart. (You will need ALL the tissues, but it will have a happy ending by the time all is said and done!) Title inspired by song: ‘Get You The Moon’ by Kina ft. Snow

(This fic is and always will be one of my favorites, it has a really special place in my heart. It has sensitive topics, so I recommend you read the tags, but it's worth going through all the angst to get to the happy ending, because it DOES have a happy ending.)

True Love's Kiss, Attempted Murder

by: cowboilikeme

Words: 120.040

Beacon Hills has never been the most normal of towns, but recently things have been happening that are getting harder and harder to explain. And it's becoming more difficult to keep the supernatural a secret when something newer, darker and scarier comes to town in the shape of a teenage girl. But she is only the beginning to their problems. And what she brings with her is the worst this town has seen in a while. “What’s so bad about getting a ride in this?” Derek sounded like he was smiling, but as beautiful and unbelievable as that sounded, Stiles still refused to look at the man, “It’s a good car.” “Overcompensating?” Stiles ridiculed, knowing perfectly well that there was no way Derek wasn’t packing something impressive. “I think we both know that’s not true,” Derek was smirking when Stiles finally turned to him, if only in shock by the werewolf’s statement. “I think we both know there is no way I could know that,” Stiles winced at how bitter he sounded, but once it was out, there was no point in trying to suck it back up.

(So this is the most recent fic I read, and I loved it, I really loved it too much, and it makes me really sad that it's not very well known or spread, because the characterization that the author puts to the characters is really realistic, it's literally like reading and imagining a different season of teen wolf, it really impressed me too much. I highly recommend this fic, it's very good, and it may have some other unrelated things but they are not very relevant things, it doesn't affect the fic at all. For real, run to read it! and comment what you think! Give the author a lot of love so that he/she continues writing more works of art in this fandom.)

Lead You Home Again

by;GotTheSilver

Words:49,962

The first time Derek meets Stiles, the kid’s brown eyes are wide, and he’s staring up at him with a mischievous grin as he tugs at the arm of Derek’s first ever Batman figure like he’s trying to separate it from Batman’s body. An alternate take on Teen Wolf, wherein Stiles and Derek are childhood friends, and things unfold from there.

(I don't know about you, but I have a soft spot for fanfics where Derek and Stiles are childhood friends and grow up together, it's like really exciting to read, because this has a certain degree of canon, because it is known that Derek and Stiles knew each other as children but for some reason they have forgotten it? or decided to avoid it? I don't know, but I do know that you will love this fic, it is tooth rotting fluff, Okay, yes there is anguish, but afterwards everything is so fluff)

Fixing What Has Been Broken

by: JustJim & Useless_girl

Words: 102,205

Derek Hale is dead. That’s something Stiles Stilinski refuses to believe even for a second once he gets the call from his dad. He heads back pissed, because he’s convinced that he can fix that mess with or without the help of his old pack, because it is Beacon Hills we’re talking about. A town where no one stays dead for long. But maybe there’s more to fix along the way…

Or our reply to the Teen Wolf Movie's mess.

(we all know how awful THAT movie was, so our beautiful authors use their talents to fix that terrible movie and give us this wonderful fanfic that is everything it should be, we have mpreg (yes beautiful, and beautiful mpreg that explains Eli's precious existence) we have a little bit of feral derek (I know, we all love when derek gets a little bit feral) and we have a damn happy ending which is the best of all.)

Lock All The Doors Behind You

by:entanglednow

Words: 25,960

He has no idea what you're supposed to say when you find one of your...werewolf acquaintances, completely out of their mind, growling like they're about to see what your insides taste like. There's no handbook for this. Stiles is thinking that if he survives he might write one.

(Yes, sorry, I really do have a guilty pleasure for feral derek, it's just that it's the moment where Derek allows himself to be honest with himself and his feelings, without so many complex thoughts that prevent him from acting on his instincts. And yes, his instincts always tell him that Stiles is his safe place, his anchor, he likes his smell and basically follows him everywhere because he likes him.)

don't know what i'm supposed to do (haunted by the ghost of you)

by: crazyassmurdererwall

Words: 30,926

Stiles sees dead people. Yep. Seriously. (He’s got this. He’s totally got this. So what if one of them is Derek’s mom?)

(This one may seem funny (which it is) but it also has some sad backstories, it's actually a light and very entertaining read, you guys are going to love it, you'll probably get frustrated (like me) that Stiles doesn't tell Derek what's wrong. I really recommend it, those scenes with Talia are painful and beautiful.)

It’s Not Pretend When It’s Real

by: waterella

words: 32,741

“At least we got this far,” Stiles argued. “Could’ve been worse. For now, they know he’s taken by someone in the pack.” “Mm hm,” Lydia said, giving him a look. “You realize that you are now going to have to pretend to date Derek, right?” Stiles rolled his eyes. “Oh no, what a hardship. That sucks, boo hoo.” He motioned Derek emphatically. “He’s like, my best friend.” “Hey!” Scott insisted. “He’s like, my second best friend,” Stiles amended. “It’s fine, we’ll figure it out. Right?” He turned to grin at Derek, who was scowling at him.

(This is very funny, and just read it it's good, My favorite parts are where Derek keeps making excuses and Stiles only accepts them because they both want to keep kissing.)

The Price

by: theroguesgambit

Words: 18,452

Stiles must surrender the most important thing in his life to protect the town… and no one can figure out what it was.

(you guys have no idea how good this fanfic is, please please do yourself a favor and go read it right now, it's painful to read but i promise it has a happy ending for derek and stiles.)

Getting Better

by: The BadassIsIn

Words: 205,156

The season 4 rewrite absolutely no one asked for where Stiles actually deals with his trauma from the nogitsune instead of being a-ok with it all and added Sterek.

(So this is quite therapeutic to read, seeing how both boys deal with their traumas and get better together, it's really nice to read, but of course there is angst, but it has a happy ending, so don't worry, I would never recommend a fic that didn't have a happy ending for Der and Stiles. So feel free to go read it and cry a little, get emotional and feel like a band-aid is put on your hearts as you see how our boys finally deal with their traumas.)

i fell into the moon

by: Iscar123

Words: 234,122

Laura Hale is arrested hours after returning to Beacon Hills. Derek Hale returns to town to bring his sister back home and together they are drawn into the mystery of a rogue wolf on their family land. They also can't seem to stop bumping into the Sheriff's son, Stiles. Laura is determined to make Stiles her new best friend and Derek just wants everyone to survive so he can get the hell out of the town that took everything from him. Stiles just wants everyone to be happy.

(If you like fics where Laura appears, I really recommend this one, because Laura and Stiles become an amazing duo against Derek, it's very funny, but I recommend you read the one shot from where this fic is inspired first, it's very good too. Derek using his charm with Stiles is my favorite thing ever.)

can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?

by: whiry

Words: 120,369

here's something strange about Beacon Hills. Stiles can't really put his finger on it, but the way certain classmates look at him at school and the way certain adults look at him in the grocery store has him curious. And it's not the sort of pitying looks that his mom's coworkers used to give him, but these ones are longer, more searching, like they're looking for something. Not to mention the weird noises that sometimes come from the woods when he runs, too human to be animal and too animal to be human. Plus the way the Hales have seemed to sequester themselves to the wild and give Stiles serious Cullen family vibes. But Stiles, like everyone else apparently, ignores it. Until it becomes too great to ignore and he has to investigate for himself and find out what is actually going on in Beacon Hills. +++ Or, the one where Stiles and Derek meet, hate each other, slowly get to know one another, and fall totally head over heels for each other all while avoiding curious classmates, an angry ex-girlfriend, and, oh yeah, imminent death.

(If you like alternative universe- High School fics like I do, then you have to read this one, plus the entire Hale family is alive, and the werewolves are revealed, and Derek and Stiles have this awkward crush on each other that slowly develops. You HAVE to read this, it's spectacular. And cora is cora haha)

Molten

by: sugareey & wolfspurr

Words: 27,896

"Stiles, is that you?" He recognizes that voice. He doesn’t know why he’s hearing it here though, in whatever cold, dark cave he’s found himself in. The owner of that voice is supposed to be miles away, back home in Beacon Hills. Unless Stiles is the one that’s ended up further from home than he could possibly have predicted. "Derek?!"

(I like fics where Derek and Stiles are put in a cave or cage, and they only have each other to get out of that scary situation, but Derek's wolf always ends up very attached to Stiles. This is kind of like that.)

Spellbinding Mishap

by: Wasterella

Words: 45,855

Stiles winced, rubbing the back of his neck, and looked over at Derek again. “So... you know how you told me not to touch anything?” Derek stared at him for a second, not seeming to understand, and then Stiles knew the moment it clicked because his entire face set so concretely it might as well have been carved out of stone. “What?” Scott asked, looking between them, confused. “What’s going on? I don’t understand. What happened?” “Yeah,” Stiles said slowly. “So the thing is, I uh, touched something. In the Witch’s house. And Derek came in and grabbed it from me. So he also touched it. And now it uh, it seems like whenever the two of us are a certain distance apart, we start getting sick. Or like, double over in pain. Or, you know, start dying.”

(Derek and Stiles are cursed and consequently can't be away from each other, so if you want to have a laugh, you can read this fic.)

Not So Boring

by: wasterella

Words: 69,062

“It was an accident!” Stiles continued, trying desperately to explain that this was all a huge misunderstanding and that the Demon clearly had to cut him some slack here.

It didn’t seem like he would be getting his wish, because the Demon’s annoyance melted into frustrated incredulity and he said dryly, “You summoned me by accident.”

“Yes!” Stiles insisted.

“How is that even possible? How do you accidentally summon a Demon?”

“You know, by accident!” Stiles argued.

“So you accidentally drew the summoning sigil into the floor, and you accidentally had an offering available, and you accidentally stood in the circle while accidentally reading the summoning spell?” the Demon asked dryly.

Okay, well when it was said like that, Stiles could understand the skepticism.

(And I close this rec list with another fic of our beloved westerella, and this is one where derek is a demon and stiles accidentally summons him. And it's really funny honestly, you have to read it, it's great!)

After months and months I finally bring you these recommendations, and I promise to bring you more, but I won't commit to saying that it will be soon.

Please tell me if you've already read any of the fics I put on the list, and tell me what you think of these recommendations, is there anything in particular that you would like me to recommend? Please let me know.

And if you have any to recommend to me, I would really appreciate it, tell me which is your favorite fic and I will read it.

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