#( werewolf: hungry. there’s wanting in his heart. )

[werecreature-addicted]

Have you ever written about an amnesiac werewolf? Like the reader finds a poor lost soul in the forest and takes them in, unknowingly dooming herself to becoming a breeding pet when the moon strikes and his instincts take over? He doesn't know what's come over him. He really doesn't. :'(

TW: car accidents. dubcon. do i know anything about hospitals? no. shhh. enjoy the werewolf porn.

You've grown quite attached to John Doe. He came in three days ago, he'd been "found" naked wandering a forest road at night and gotten cleaned out by a driver in a pickup truck. The driver said he thought he hit a dog or a deer that had wandered onto the road and was horrified to see a man there instead lying bloody on the asphalt.

Despite how bad John Doe looked when he was wheeled into your clinic, he'd been recovering quite nicely. He was even conscious now although he didn't seem to remember anything from before the accident. That coupled with the fact that he was found naked in the woods, it was proving difficult to contact any friends or family who might be able to give a concrete identity.

You weren't too worried though. It was a small community, and you were sure someone who knew him would turn up eventually. As for you, this was a slow time of year for a humble trauma center doctor, you were able to spend lots of time with your favorite amnesiac. It was a little miraculous really how well he was recovering everything but his memory. If you didn't know any better you'd say it was supernatural.

You found yourself spending more and more time with your John Doe, he was sweet and funny, Not to mention he was very attractive, even bloody and bruised. Although the budding warmth you felt for him was tainted slightly both by the fact that he was your patient and the nagging worry in the back of your head that this wasn't the real him. This could all be a false personality that he would lose once he got his memories back.

You'd already started toying with a daydream where once recovered John Doe would still come by to visit you. You shake your head and try to dispel those fantasies from your mind. You mentally chided yourself, you weren't a teenager with a crush you should be handling yourself more professionally than this. Still, your heart raced when he smiled at you.

In the end, it wasn't a friend or family member who revealed who John Doe really was, but it was the summer rain. You were just about to leave for the night when you started getting phone calls. A bad storm was coming in and soon it wouldn't be safe to drive on the largely dirt roads in this town, no one would be coming up to fill in the night shift. You could make it home safe if you left now. But that would mean abandoning your patient and you couldn't do that. So instead you just sighed and hunkered down preparing to wait out the storm inside the hospital.

John Doe was more than happy to have your company- he liked you better than any of the overnight team anyway, and over the past day he'd begun to feel strange. Not in pain just energized in a usual way. there was a tingling sensation just below his skin, he felt hungry but not for food. He couldn't really put a name to the strange pressure in his body, he only knew that it was growing and it made him want to keep you close.

You were in the break room when it happened. You were trying to figure something out for dinner which was hard with only vending machine options available when lightning strikes and the lights die. you hesitate, waiting for backup generators but only the red EXIT lights stay on, casting an eerie red glow to the room. You were just starting to pull open cabinets looking for a flashlight when you heard a loud crash and what sounded like an animal growl. Your heart stops and before you can think you're running toward the sound relying on muscle memory to navigate the darkened halls.

You freeze seeing the hulking form of a wolf over the tipped-over bed of John Doe. How the hell did a wolf get in here? And alone. Even panicked you know something isn't right. Wolves don't come this close to humans, they don't attack humans and they never ever do it alone. Then the wolf looks at you and stands on its hind legs and you realize it's not a wolf but a monster.

Your hands tremble, you should run- call the sheriff- search the lost and found for a gun and shoot the damn thing. But you can't bring yourself to run. The creature in front of you is awe-inspiring despite your fear, you're curious. Then the monster moves and the interest vanishes. Again your body moves before your brain can think you turn and run. You don't look behind as you run but you can hear the beast howl and the solid thud thud thud as it chases after you.

It's a small emergency room, you know there's nowhere to hide unless the werewolf can read and respect "staff only" signs. You feel a large clawed hand wrap around your waist your legs are still kicking trying to run as you're lifted in the air by the monster.

"You took such good care of me...now let me take care of you, sweet mate," the werewolf growls in your ear, turning you to face him, forcing you to look at his hulking monstrous form. You struggle futilely in his grasp he's strong and you can see his muscles bulge under his dark black fur. Lightning strikes again illuminating his sharp white teeth and his bright hungry eyes.

It takes you a moment to catch up to the fact that 1. The werewolf had spoken and 2. That he had promised to "take care of you". Before you can catch your breath let alone ask what that meant he's shoving you down onto the cold linoleum floor, shredding your pants with one clawed hand and the other he presses down hard on your back in between your shoulder blades keeping you pinned to the floor. You can feel his warm breath on your exposed skin as he huffs your scent. you can't see him but you know he's drooling. The attention makes you tremble, and then he pushes his thick rough tongue against your body and you moan. His tongue is thick and wet against your trembling cunt. He can't keep his hands to himself, his clawed hand wraps around your breast squeezing as he pulls you back against his hungry lapping mouth.

You can't keep your moans to yourself. The little cries of pleasure slip from your mouth only making the beast more aggressive as he eats you out. Eventually, you give up trying to even hold back the sounds or pretend that you aren't enjoying the ravishment.

It doesn't take much longer for you to cum, he doesn't pull away when you reach your peak. He pushes his tongue deep inside of you savoring the flavor of your cum and the fact that he had successfully pulled an orgasm from you just like he'd promised. His tail wags as he cleans you up, then you start getting wet again and he's not cleaning you up as much as he is eating you out again. His cock hangs heavy between his legs too big and thick for his erection to lift so it just throbs with need and drips thick beads of precum onto the clean floor.

He can't quite decide what he needs more, to jerk himself off or to keep both his hands on you. Eventually, his own ache can't be ignored and he starts to jerk himself off. it doesn't take long for him to cum the sweet flood of your cum just drives him insane. his knot swells pitifully as his semen splatters against your legs and ass dripping down to your pussy. two of his clawed fingers scoop up some of his spilled seed and push it inside of you.

"Next time I cum tonight it's going to be inside of you." It sounds like a threat, you can't wait.

[whateveriwant]

The 141 holding their baby for the first time

Can be read as a part 2 to this

Price

This man is so eager to hold his child for the first time, he almost doesn't wait for the nurses to clean him off first. So what if his son is covered in all sorts of blood and gunk? John has dealt with a lot worse before, trust him

So when he has to wait for the little one to be cleaned and then weighed and then dressed first, John almost steams from his ears he's so frustrated

Oh but the moment his child is finally placed in his arms, he just absolutely melts. Goes from a menacing grizzly bear to a harmless stuffed plushie in two seconds flat

With one hand supporting his bottom and the other curving along his back, John gently holds his son for the very first time. As he looks at the boy in his arms – his eyes, his lips, his little button nose – John feels a tickle behind his eyes, and he's quick to blink the tears away before they can form

He sniffs back his emotions and caresses the top of your son's head. “Hairy little bloke, ain't he?” he jokes, referring to the full head of hair the tyke's already been blessed with

Well, what does he expect when he has a werewolf for a father? Your jest gets John to chuckle lowly, muttering to the boy, “Just like your daddy, eh?”

He places the baby against the crook of his neck and softly pats him on the back, bouncing up and down ever so slightly. And when his son lets out a great big burp, John and you share a laugh. “Yeah, just like your daddy.”

Ghost

One thing Simon prides himself on is his sense of humility – knowing when his services are needed and when they aren't. In this instance, as the nurses flit around with his son, he knows it's the latter situation, so he waits patiently off to the side as he lets them work

Though he's sidelined, Simon watches like a hawk as his little boy moves about the room. Every hand-off, every measurement taken, it's all done under the careful eye of his father

But despite how cool he may appear on the outside, inside his heart is pounding, and that only increases as a nurse finally approaches him with his child in her hands

Simon goes to take the baby from her, stretching his arms out, but before the transfer is made, he remembers something. Quickly, he reaches up and strips the cloth mask from his face. He knows the little one doesn't have good eyesight yet, but first impressions and all that, right?

With the utmost caution, Simon takes his son into his arms, putting him in the crook of his elbow like a rugby player holding a ball. He feels like a giant as he holds the tiny boy against him. Like an ant compared to an elephant, he thinks to himself

Despite his size though, Simon is so delicate with his son, treating him like he's made of glass. He tucks him more firmly against his chest, and as the little one naturally snuggles closer, Simon can't help the smile it brings to his face

Rocking back and forth slightly, Simon tries to lull the boy to sleep. Unfortunately, his little cheek rubbing against Simon's chest has the opposite effect, and he begins to mouth at his pec, having accidentally triggered his rooting reflex

“Oh, he's…,” Simon mutters awkwardly, realizing what he's just done. He hears you giggle from your spot on your bed, and that makes him chuckle to himself. “Think he's hungry,” he says before handing the baby over to you

Gaz

From the moment Kyle laid eyes on his son, it was love at first sight. Even though he was filthy, wrinkly, and had a conehead to end all coneheads, Kyle was immediately smitten with the boy the moment he first saw him

He carefully trails after the nurses as they go about cleaning him/taking his measurements, not wanting to get in the way but wanting to stay close

Despite his watchfulness, however, when his son is finally offered to him, Kyle immediately freezes. His arms feel like they're locked down by his sides, like there's some kind of invisible force preventing him from reaching out and taking him

Though he's been preparing for this moment for months, when it's finally time to do it, he finds that he's scared. Scared to hurt him, to drop him, to do something wrong. He has to take a deep breath as he plucks up the courage, then has the nurse hand over his son

And the second the boy is placed in Kyle's arms, the tears he hadn't managed to shed during the delivery start streaming anew. “H-Hi, baby. Hi,” Kyle sobs, masterfully holding his son in one hand as he uses the other to wipe his tears away. “I'm your daddy.”

Though there's still a flurry of activity going on around them, it's like time seems to slow as Kyle admires the little boy in his arms. He leans in to press a soft kiss to the top of his son's head, holding his lips there as he inhales that sweet scent emanating from him

When he finally pulls back, he brushes another tear away, flashing a bright smile as he chuckles wetly to himself. Yep, he's in love alright. Truly, deeply in love

Soap

Johnny feels sluggish as he slowly wakes back up. It takes some effort for him to peel his eyes open, and when he does, he then groggily takes in his surroundings

He's slumped in some stiff hospital chair. Why? Oh, wait. He thinks he remembers. He was here to watch the birth of his first child, but the last thing he remembers was seeing a whole lot of red, and then everything went black

Johnny looks around the room for a moment until he realizes you're sitting in the bed across from him. He stands with a grunt, rubbing his forehead as he walks over to you. “What'd I miss?” he asks as approaches your bed

He notices something in your arms, but it's not until he gets close that he realizes what exactly. That isn't just any little bundle in your arms. That's your son you're holding

He finds he's frozen to his spot as you answer his question. Other than the birth? Not much. Just the first feeding… and the first burping… and the first swaddling

Johnny's lip threatens to tremble as he listens to you list off all the things he missed because he'd passed out. But when you ask in he wants to hold his son, all that sorrow immediately vanishes

Now, Johnny's held a lot of babies in his years (it comes with being part of the MacTavish clan), but there's something different this time as you pass the little boy to him. As Johnny looks at the baby in his arms – his baby – he realizes this is the most perfect, most beautiful, most amazing, angelic, awe-inspiringly wonderful–

There's the sound of a small whine followed quickly by a loud squish, and suddenly, the bum cradled in his hands feels about 2x heavier. The realization hits you before it does Johnny, and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you

Congrats, daddy-o! Looks like he woke up just in time for the first nappy change

[pastelclovds]

thinking about red riding hood laios with big bad wolf shifter!reader…

cw: forest sex, knotting, male!reader, size difference (reader is 3 ft taller than laios), blood (laios gets scratched a bit sooo), reader and laios are obsessed with each other, cock slut laios, everything’s planned cause laios and reader are FREAKS

your laios looked gorgeous in the outfit you hand picked for him to wear in this… lewdly hot scenario he wanted to act out with you.

you knew how fascinated laios was of you, especially with your abilities to transform into any creature at will. you also knew just how blunt he was when it came to his needs, and you willingly fulfilled every single one of his wishes. no matter how outlandish they were. your laios was a creative, horny nerd.

you were enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence one day when out of the blue he asked you, “have we ever had sex in the woods before?”

that question made you cough out your water as laios looked up at you with curious eyes that quickly turned dark. ravenous scenarios popping up in his head left and right. you knew that smile of innocence was fake as he asked you if you wanted to “try something”. you didn’t refuse, of course.

and that’s how you ended up here.

naked. in your werewolf form. in the middle of the woods. secluded far away from prying eyes. at midnight where the moon was high and creating light bright enough to make the forest visible. but even if it didn’t, your night vision would’ve helped you.

and even if you didn’t have your vision, you could track laios’ scent from miles away. it smells like a mix of nuts and spices. it’s so addicting, you would die happy if it suffocated you.

your cock is already leaking pre at the sight of his ridiculously short frivolous red skirt barely being able to cover his satin panties. the cape attached to his hood sways as he takes cautious steps over leaves and puddles.

he isn’t carrying kensuke or any other weapon in his basket. just snacks, tissues, and containers of water for after the fun. the fact that he trusts you that much that you’ll protect him makes your heart and cock throb.

when laios purposely steps on a branch, its crunch filling the deafening silence of the forest, it was your signal to make yourself known. your paw makes a loud thump as you step foot from your place behind the tree.

laios trembled in both fear and excitement at the sight of your towering form. the sharp claws on your hands scraping against the bark of the tree, your fluffy chest rising and dropping from your heavy breathing, and tail raised in anticipation.

his eyes drift to the hardened cock hanging between your furry thighs, your balls heavy and ready to be emptied, and your dilated pupils say everything else. hungry. savage. predatory.

show time.

laios turns his heel and bolts away from you. you let out a low growl as you lower your body, place your palms on the ground, and dart after your mate like a wolf chasing its prey. with your increased speed and stamina, laios only ran off ten feet before he was tackled. he gasps when his chest hits the ground.

he’s still as a rock when he feels your claws grip onto his cape. he glances up behind at you in false terror. your razor sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as you grin devilishly at him.

“what’s a pretty thing like you doing in my woods? don’t you know better than to go inside someone’s home unannounced? naughty boy…~” you said mischievously, you suddenly flip laios on his back, making him squeak in surprise. you could clearly see the raging boner tenting his skirt, a tiny wet spot growing from where his twitching cock spilled pre. he quickly closed his legs to block your view, cheeks blooming in red.

“i believe that rude intruders—” you effortlessly push his legs apart and teared his skirt to shreds, laios cried out in embarrassment as now all he had to cover his privates was his satin panties, “should be punished.”

laios eyes tear up as he pleads, “i-i didn’t know this forest belonged to you. please have mercy!” you laugh cruelly as you lean down to lick his salty tears away. his belly twitches from where your claw rests above his waistband before tearing his panties in two as well. now he’s completely vulnerable beneath your gaze, his cock laying uselessly against his stomach.

“you really are adorable, naively believing you’ll go scott free by saying a simple please.” you flip laios on his chest once again, raising his ass in the air with your palms on his waist, as if he weight nothing. laios grows unbelievably harder. he wishes he had superhuman abilities like you. you were so strong and powerful and cool and hot— GODS he wanted you to take him already. he freezes when he feels your throbbing cock against his ass.

he wanted to be used for all he’s worth, filled to the brim with hot cum, he loved how your knots forced his hole to stretch out in order to pop inside, oh he loved you so so much—

laios sobbed when he felt the tip of your cock prod his well lubed hole, one of your hands left his waist to roughly press against his back so that only his ass was up, obediently presenting to you like a bitch in heat. he felt your labored breaths against the back of his neck as you growled out, “you’re mine, pretty thing.”

laios claws at the dirt below him as he felt you slip inside him inch after glorious inch. he yelped when the head of your cock nuzzled right against his prostate. you knew laios was ready to start, so you didn’t bother with waiting to begin.

you started with a quick but rough pace that left laios moaning helplessly at the great pleasure you gave him. pulling out a few inches before slamming into your mates tight hole, balls slapping wetly against laios’ ass as pre drips from his cock and makes a puddle of whiteish liquid on the dirt. without warning, laios cums. his body halting abruptly as his climax washes over his body, his eyes roll back when you don’t cease your thrust. overstimulation prodding at his nerves like the head of your cock hitting his prostate at every thrust.

you pull your head back to listen for anyone nearby, thankfully you don’t. probably because the only thing your senses can focus on is laios. your fingers brushing his hair, your nose overwhelmed with the smell of sex and sweat, laios loud moans and whimpers filling the silence of the forest, your eyes hyper focused on the sight of your pelvis lewdly slapping against his ass. nobody else mattered at that moment but him. your gorgeous laios.

you groan when laios tightened around you, your pace faltering as you felt your belly grow hot and your knot thickening at the base of your cock. laios’ toes curl when he feels your knot catch on the rim of his asshole, a pure euphoric smile overtaking his features as pleasured tears fill his eyes.

“i’m close, i’m gonna fill you up. would’cha like that, pretty thing?” you managed to ask, laios frantically nods his head in a ‘yes’ motion as he grinds against your growing knot. “yes yes, please do it! i-i’m gonna—” white pleasure crashes into him again just as your knot pops past his abused rim, locking you inside him as ropes of warm cum fill him until he felt full and hot. Laios’ legs give up holding his weight as he laid weightlessly on the ground, your palms are the only reason why his ass is in the air. your balls clench for the last time, finally releasing all you had into him before going flaccid.

laios whines when you attempt to pull out, streams of your cum leaking out of him. “nooo, stay inside. you feel so warm, so good— hah-” laios pleads, desperately grinding against the base of your cock, trying to find your knot to plug him up again. you chuckle under your breath, you should’ve known one round wouldn’t be enough to satisfy your mate.

laios whimpers when he feels your cock slowly harden inside his loose hole.

a/n: I’M BAAAAACK ⁉️ hope you enjoyed :)

[dark-moonlust]

The Werewolf, the Minotaur, and Their Mate

Pairing: werewolf x minotaur x f!human reader

Summary: You get caught between the heated desires of your werewolf and Minotaur boyfriend. They often get too possessive as if touching you is a competition. They eventually work together, pounding you good and deep so that you never forget how much they love you.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, double penetratiοn, oral fem and male receiving, p in v sex, anal +plug, fingering, huge🍆, belly bulge, knot, lots of 💦. Don’t like, don’t read please.

This is the full one-shot. It was posted first on Patreοn as my patrons get early access to my Tumblr posts+more smut! 😍I hope you like this! It’s so steamy!

Happy reading!

It was a late night and you were lying with your back on the bed, your body exposed to your two boyfriends: a werewolf named Ari and a minotaur named Bront. Aric had a big muscular frame and was covered in black fur that showed off his bright amber eyes. Bront was slightly larger than Ari and had coarse brown fur, a bull’s face and long protruding horns.

They had long now undressed you, their gazes roaming over your body, caressing your curves and making you shiver with anticipation. But when the time came for them to start touching you, they lost control. They wanted you too much, their desire overwhelming, and they always had a hard time sharing you and working together.

It didn’t help that they were both overly possessive of you, their primal instincts driving them to claim you.

“Move over, wolf. It’s my turn to kiss our mate,” Bront growled as he leaned in and claimed your mouth, his tongue pushing down your throat.

“I haven’t kissed her nearly as much as you,” Ari rumbled as he licked along your neck and up your face.

Their tongues battled for dominance, each trying to claim you in their own way. Captured between them, you moaned and wiggled slightly, overwhelmed by their intensity. You wanted to talk, to tell them that you were theirs, but every time you opened your mouth, one of them would grab the chance to kiss you deeply. When Bront’s tongue finally withdrew, Ari’s immediately took its place, plunging into your mouth and so on. The constant back-and-forth left you breathless and frustrated.

“Wait—mphhh—” you muttered, trying to catch your breath before Ari’s tongue invade your mouth.

Bront grumbled but decided to play with your breasts. His large, rough hands cupped your tits, shaping the soft, plump mounds and thumbing your sensitive nipples. His mouth enveloped each tit in turn, careful not to hurt you with his sharp teeth. His suckling was gentle yet fervent, alternating between your breasts, his tongue tracing circles around the tight, aching buds.

“Look at her…” Ari joined in the game, fondling the tit that Bront had just released and massaged it, his tongue licking around the areola. “Fuck, such softness.”

“Want to mark her pretty tits with my seed,” Bront growled, teasing your nipples with his skilled tongue.

“Yesss… please…” you whimpered and clutched both their furry arms begging them to stop teasing you. “Want you to fuck me.”

“We’ll fuck your pretty holes, mate,” Bront said, his voice sending vibrations through you, making your pussy leak even more. “But first, we’ll play with you. Hm?”

“No playing—“ you muttered, clutching their furry arms. “’m too sensitive.”

Bront gave you a firm look and settled down, his horns casting shadows on the wall as he gripped your hips and spread your legs open. He curved your legs upward, dragging them until your knees were at your ears, exposing your eager holes to their hungry eyes. You pussy clenched eagerly, you were drenched with arousal. Your ass was also filled with a pretty heart diamond plug.

“Told you the diamond plug would fit her best,” Ari drawled, his eyes dark with lust. “It looks so cute, lodged up her pretty ass.”

“Hm… looks stunning indeed,” Bront agreed shakily. “But I want to ruin her pussy first.”

You opened your mouth to speak but cried out instead when Bront’s long tongue lapped at your cunt, devouring your juices and flicking your sensitive clit. His hands kept your legs pinned wide while he did shameless things with his tongue. Ari watched enthralled, but then realized he wanted to taste you, too.

“Fuck, her cunny is so wet. Move aside, bullface, I want to taste her, too.”

“Get in line, mutt,” the minotaur snarled, his tongue plunging deep inside you, causing you to whimper and babble pathetically.

You were so close, each possessive lick brought you higher and higher and despite their bickering you came with a whine, your toes clenching, pussy pulsing around Bront’s relentless tongue. Your minotaur kept licking you up, slower this time, prolonging your pleasure.

Realizing he wouldn’t get his turn soon, Ari shoved Bront aside with a grin. “Step aside and watch, bull. It’s time to prepare her lovely ass.“

Bront narrowed his eyes at him yet reluctantly watched as Ari rolled you on all fours, his hands spreading the mounds of your ass. Ari’s tongue flicked around the butt plug, teasingly, before gently toying with the handle. He pulled it back slowly, stretching your hole, then slammed it back inside, making you gasp and tighten your anal muscles.

Bront, not one to be left out, pushed you down with a gentle palm on your back, pressing your face into the sheets. Leaning close, he watched the sight of you being so thoroughly at your limits.

“Take the plug out”, Bront demanded hoarsely. “I want to fuck her pretty arse.”

“Jokes on you, bud. I’m fucking her pretty arse,” Ari said, carefully removing the plug. It left your hole with a wet squelch, and you groaned as the thick protrusion exited your insides, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

Ari grabbed the bottle of lube and after he’d retracted his claws, he smeared the cold liquid all over his fingers and your ass. A thick werewolf finger stretched you, curling inside you. The sensation was incredible, especially when Bront joined in, inserting his own finger alongside Ari’s. You had both digits up your ass, both as thick as a human dick at full mast.

“I think she needs a bigger plug next time,” Bront said, squelching sounds echoing as he thrust his finger alongside Ari’s.

The werewolf hummed. “Hmm, she’s too tight.”

“I’m here, you dumbasses,” you groaned, the constant shifting of their fingers leavening you wanting more. “Stop talking and just fuck me!”

“Naughty little mate,” Ari said and smacked your ass playfully. “We prepare you first, and then we fuck you crazy.”

“Come on… hn…” you whined. “Can’t take this anymore. You both need to stop arguing and share me.”

Bront clicked his tongue. “Ask nicely for our cocks, little mate.”

You huffed. “Enough with the teasing. Make this work before I leave you both and go fuck my dildos.”

“She needs to be punished for even suggesting this,” Bront said in all seriousness.

Ari agreed, his brows furrowed. “Your mates are right here, hard and eager to satisfy you. Never dare say you’ll substitute us with stupid toys.”

“A lesson is in order,” the minotaur said. “Our impatient mate needs to get fucked stupid until she understands the gravity of her words.”

“Fucking finally,” you moaned and gasped when you received another light slap, this time on your pussy by Ari.

“Can I take her pretty mouth?” Ari asked. “You can break her ass and then we can take turns fucking her.”

They nodded in unison.

And began fucking you senseless.

Gone was their earlier miscommunication.

With impressive cooperation, Ari positioned himself near your head while Bront took his place between your legs. Their cocks stood at attention, their shafts as thick as your forearm, the tips leaking precum. Without waiting, Ari tapped his cock against your lips, parting your mouth and shoving his cock down your throat. You gurgled but at the same time, Bront lined up with your ass, the cockhead stretching the tight muscle and thrusting inside.

You gasped, “Mphhh!”

They fucked you from both ends in perfect unison. Ari’s cock filled your mouth and throat, salty precum trickling down your throat. Bront pounded deep into your ass, his huge frame hanging over your back, his breathing just as heavy as your own. The dual sensations were overwhelming, liquid pleasure coursing through your veins as they filled you again and again. The room echoed with the wet plap-plap of skin slapping skin and your muffled moans mingling with their grunts.

“Mmmm, such a good girl for us,” Bront said, his hips pounding you into the mattress. “Taking Ari’s cock down her pretty throat and my cock in her tight arsehole.”

“That will teach her not to mention dildos again,” Bront said, his fingers reaching to circle your pussy. You were drenched and painfully empty there, your poor clit begging for attention.

“You can use dildos only to prepare yourself for us, little mate,” Ari said while pulling back from your mouth, his cock coated in your saliva. “But never, never use them to threaten us this way. Understood?”

“Hmm… understood,” you took a deep inhale, shaking all over.

“We are also sorry, little mate”, Bront kissed your nape. “We quarrelled and teased you a little too much when we should be giving you one orgasm after the other.”

“Our mating bond is too strong and we want you too much that sometimes we lose control,” Ari added, kissing your flushed lips. “From now on, we’ll do better, love. We promise.”

“Please, make me yours,” you told them, your eyes misty. “Make me forget everything but you.”

“You want us to fill you up with our cocks?” Bront asked, his huge palm pumping his raging dick.

“Our seed trickling down your thighs?” Ari added, fondling his swollen balls.

“Hm! Yes, want you! Want you both to fuck me stupid!”

Your declaration was all they needed to get back at it.

They repositioned you so you were straddling Bront, your breasts rubbing against his chest while Ari kneeled behind you, his dick hot against your ass. Your minotaur lowered you down onto his cock, and your werewolf pushed into your ass. They thrust to the hilt, stretching your holes, both shafts rubbing against each other inside you. Then they started pounding you, their thrusts deep and relentless, their cocks hitting all the right spots.

You clung to both of them, your nails digging into their flesh as they fucked you in perfect harmony. When Ari’s cock left your pussy, Bront’s entered your ass. Next they alternated the pace, both slamming at the same time inside your holes. You could only whimper and blabber their names, their combined efforts pushing you over the edge.

Body trembling, you came hard, sobs of pleasure escaping your dry mouth. Bront devoured your cries with his kiss, his tongue brushing with yours in a rough messy kiss. Ari nipped and kissed your neck, leaving little love marks. Your mates were primal and unhinged, and you loved them—you loved how good they fucked you, exactly as you liked it.

And they were far from done.

They ruined you from what seemed like hours. With their inhuman strength and size, they put you in all positions imaginable and took turns claiming your holes, their powerful bodies working in sync to drive you insane with ecstasy. You lost count of how many times you climaxed and your voice went horse from all the moans and cries of pleasure.

When they did finish, they had completely delivered their lesson; you were sleepy and blissfully fucked, your lips smudged with seed, your cunt and ass overflowing with it. You collapsed between them, panting and sweaty.

They gave you water and some bites of food, then gently cleaned you up. They tucked you between them in the bed and held you, whispering how much they loved, how precious you were to them, how lucky they were to have found you.

“That was one amazing punishment,” you muttered with a sleepy smile. “I love it when you go feral over me.”

“We’ll be gentler next time,” Ari said, nuzzling your neck.

“Nooo,” you pouted. “I loved it.”

Bront half-laughed and kissed your nose. “Then you’ll get many more good and deep poundings tomorrow, sweet mate.”

You smiled, exhausted but satisfied. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” your mates whispered before you drifted off into a pleasurable sleep.

Did you enjoy? Are there any other pairing you’d like to see? I’m all ears 😆🩶

[gremlingottoosilly]

141 with a soft, crybaby bunny reader who stumbled upon their base after being chased by a scary predator, not knowing they're worse than the monster who previously hunted her.

Awww...you're so scared, so vulnerable - if only you were a hare hybrid, with strong legs and good hearing. If only you were a fast, resilient creature, if only your monster form weren't even more helpless than your human one... You get it now - it would be better to die, to perish in predator's arms, than to sit on the lap of men who would love to devour you in every other scene. It's better to die than to have this crazy harpy push you over the edge of the watch tower only to catch you in the last moment - his mouth already forces its way to carve bite marks in your breasts, listening to the panicking beating of your fragile, weak heart. If you were stronger, you could have survived the fall without help - but you cry and squeal as the harpy pushes you clothes to his embrace, laughing when your fluffy ears are trembling and you cling to him, begging to not let go. Bunnies like their burrows deep in the ground...you'd have to get used to be suspended in the air.

Ghost was really going to kill you when he first saw you - such a pathetic, weak thing, your lips trembling and your nose twitching as you smell the decay on his skin. Poor thing, he almost feels sorry for you - but your cries are so delightful when he buries his cock deep between your soft bunny thighs, lying as he squishes your soft little tail in his paws. You might be just a human with few monster parts - but oh, aren't they just adorable. Ghost isn't the one to be soft with you, but he is here when you stumble into his quarters, rubbing your pretty legs together as you cry in the depths of your heat. He is the only one with enough undead stamina to handle your hungry, soaked pussy. Soap was the one to capture you in the first place - when you were running away from some weak, pathetic fox hybrid, when you were considered a petty enough prey - the werewolf didn't even acknowledge you at first, thrilled and high on the fight from the hybrid who breached 141 territories...and then he saw you. You didn't even get that he is a werewolf at first - you were so cute, so trusting, you begged him for help and shelter...and he gave it to you. He held you close, teeth buried in your shoulder when you started to push him away, when you finally noticed that he is your biggest threat out here. But, oh, how could he resist the swell of his knot in your plump bunny ass? And Price, oh, he is the only one you could really trust here. Gaz and Soap are your natural predators, Ghost is Death himself, but the bear hybrid...you thought he'd be different. Soft. He doesn't want to eat you, oh no - but you soon find out tat he is hungry for you just like all the others. Price loves his pretty bunny pet, you're so tiny compared to him - he lifts you in his arms and pushes your face in his hairy chest, forcing you to bounce on his meaty cock when you squirm and cry. He is breeding you, pushing the rest aside - you don't think you remember the night when you weren't laying under him, his cock buried deep in your cunt. You really should have think twice before asking the pack for help...

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Eight

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.3K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

Feel free to buy me a coffee ☕☕

She laid back on the bed, far too calm for what Lando had just blurted out. "Run that one buy me again?" She said with her eyebrows raised.

It was a joke, it had to be a joke. She knew the rumours that surrounded this place, the stupid stories about the werewolves and the vampires roaming the town.

And Oscar and Lando were playing into it. They had to be.

Lando's head dropped and he let out a sigh. "I'm being serious," he said. It was far too late to backpedal now. "Oscar and I, we aren't human," he repeated. This time his voice was sure.

And, this time, she was less sure he was joking. "Oh, fuck," she said, sitting up straighter. But still, it couldn't be real, could it? They were human. Because, well, what else could they be?

Lando looked towards Oscar. "Show her," he said and nudged him.

In truth, Oscar didn't know how she hadn't noticed by now. He hadn't been trying to hide his fangs and, with how often he had his lips on her, he didn't know how she couldn't have known.

But he hooked his finger around his top lip and pulled it up, exposing his fangs. "I'm a vampire," he said, still lifting his lip. "And this dickhead is a werewolf."

"Fuck," she said through a hiss, shuffling back on her bed, away from them.

Shit, this was exactly what Oscar was afraid of. "Wait!" He strode forward, but she only backed up further. "Fuck, Lando, this was why I didn't want to tell her!" He snapped at the werewolf.

Lando's eyes flashed as he looked at Oscar. "You shouting isn't going to help, is it, Osc?" His words came out slow, almost dangerous.

Neither of them were looking at her as she got as far away as she could from them. Her heart was beating erratically and she held her chest. No matter how deeply she breathed, not enough air was getting into her lungs.

Shit, she was going to pass out.

Lando noticed first. "Oh, fuck," he mumbled and climbed over the bed to get to her. "Baby, baby, calm down," he said and held her upright. His hands were on her neck, touch gentle as he felt her elevated pulse. "We're not gonna hurt you, I swear."

Still, her breaths were coming out too quickly. But she wasn't pushing him away. Looking past him, over his shoulder, she locked eyes with Oscar.

Oscar, the vampire. Oscar, who hadn't hurt her. Yet.

She breathed deep and looked at Lando. "Why did you tell me this?" She asked quietly.

Lando's hands fell from her neck, into her lap. "I... thought it was better that you know," Lando answered just as quietly as she had asked the question. "I..." He looked back towards Oscar. "We, Oscar and I, we both like you." He said it so quietly, curls falling over his face as he looked down at her hands.

There was a moment where she said nothing, brows furrowed as she stared at them. "Wait, let me get this straight," she said and shook her head, almost like she was clearing her thoughts. "So, you and Oscar both like me. And to go about that, you guys decided to tell me that you're vampires."

"Werewolf," Lando quietly interrupted.

She glared.

But her attention quickly moved behind him, to Oscar. He hadn't moved away from the desk, hadn't met her eyes again. He stared down at his shoes, gripping the desk chair almost hard enough to break it.

"Osc?" She called and Lando moved to one side. "Why haven't you eaten me yet?"

His chest shook slightly as he laughed. The laugh only last a second, but his lips were turning up. "I don't eat people," he said and looked over to her. "But I don't drink from people that don't want it," he answered honestly.

Her expression softened. "How... what do you eat?"

Oscar breathed in as he thought about it. "Animals, mostly. But there is a select, small group of people that want us to drink from them."

And, again, she was frowning at him. "Really? People want you to drink from them?"

He nodded his head. "Apparently it feels good," he said rather nonchalantly.

With wide eyes and raised eyebrows, she turned towards Lando. "Huh," she said, but her tone wasn't questioning. "That's interesting."

Interesting. That wasn't the word either boy had expected her to use. Lando looked back at Oscar as Oscar looked between the two of them. And then, he turned back to her. "So, are you gonna kick us out?"

She shrugged her shoulders, which wasn't the most comforting thing in the world. Both boys were still as they waited for something, anything from her. Some indication that she was going to get her dad's gun.

She sucked in a breath. "I wanna know more," she said. "I get that you both like me, and I can't say if I like the both of you too, I'll be completely honest. But I'm not saying no, not yet."

Oscar let his head fall back. "Holy shit," he said quietly, his accent coming through particularly strong. "Those were the most anxiety inducing moment's of my life."

Laughing, Lando sat back, his back against the bed as he sat opposite her, legs stretched as far as they could go. "I genuinely can't believe you're giving us a chance," he said and breathed out a laugh. And then he was looking up at Oscar and beckoning him closer.

Oscar pushed himself away from the desk. He strode around the bed and sat beside Lando, leaning against the bed with his legs between them. "I genuinely can't believe you're not kicking us out," he said, trying to mimic Lando's voice.

She knocked the both of them with her feet. But then she was looking up at them with a seriously expression. "What happens on a full moon?" She asked Lando.

He shrugged his shoulders. "Heightened emotions, less control over when I change and... horniness."

The last part was said so quietly, she and Oscar almost missed it. But their giggles signified that they had.

"Can I see you change?" She asked through her giggles.

Lando was suddenly standing. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and pulled it up, over his head, dropping it on the bed. The two of them were unashamed in their staring, enough to have a blush rising to Lando's cheeks.

"Look away, both of you," he insisted as he unbuttoned his jeans.

"But we were just getting to the best part," said Oscar with a grin as she pouted.

But Lando stopped and held his hands on his hips, not going any further until the both of them looked away. Oscar stared at her and she had her hand covering her eyes.

Sucking in a breath, Lando pushed down his shorts and transformed. He'd long since passed the stage when his bones hurt as he transformed. No, the sensation was somewhat nice as everything snapped into place and his body grew fur.

When he was fully transformed he jumped on the bed. She lowered her hand from in front of her eyes and Oscar turned around.

Now, Oscar didn't gasp like she did. No, he'd seen Lando transformed before, had been attacked by him, too. But she was in awe as she stared at him. Pushing up from the floor, she slowly walked towards him and stretched out her hand. "Can I?" She asked.

Lando pushed his head into her hand.

If you enjoyed this chapter, please feel free to buy me a coffee

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[naffeclipse]

Toying around with a sort of Apex Polarity spin involving Sun and Moon and having them as Arctic Fox type of creatures (think werewolf monster body types but fox style) and Y/N is an Arctic Hare-esque humanoid mythical being with white fur and long ears tipped in black. Of course, it's set in the Arctic tundra. Thinking of calling it Of Fox Maws.

You've seen the fox men before. They'll skirt the outsides of the large valley you like to go to gather arctic willow and sedge out of the snow. Their eyes glint in the harsh Arctic light, watching you. You warily tense your legs, always ready to bolt should the two fiends decide they're hungry enough to attempt to chase you down.

You can't trust foxes.

But you always skip away, out of sight and far from the terror of what could easily be your last day. This happens for a season. Sometimes, they attempt to creep closer in plain view but you turn tail and run, ducking behind snowy hills and hiding low until you're certain they're gone.

Once, you were caught off guard in the middle of your foraging. One voice called softly out to you. You jumped back and found the fox men too close, almost within lunging distance—your little heart fluttered as if to take flight and escape—but you ran and ran and ran until you couldn't breathe. Then, you look behind you.

The fox men were nowhere to be found.

One day, you're amid a rocky field of purple saxifrage, happily picking blossoms to toss in your mouth while twisting your long ears this way and that to listen in for any predators or creeping fox men that might try to break your little neck in their vulpine jaws. You never expected the teeth to come from the ground you placed your foot on. A snap of metal. A bone crack. You're bitten by something cold and terrible, and it chains you to the ground. Terrible pain eats your leg as blood, crimson among the snow and rocks, begins to drip down your fur.

You panic. Such is your nature. You thrash and struggle while the metal trap digs deeper into your leg. The safety of daylight begins to fade as exhaustion and fear begin to take hold, and then you see them. Their glinting eyes, their sharp ears narrowed, their fur white and strangely marked with colorful swirls on their underside, their claws scraping over the ground as they come closer and closer.

You cry it in your terror—you could always run before. They talk low and soft to you, one anxiously coaxing you to stop moving, to stop hurting yourself, but you tug and struggle in your wild franticness. The teeth keep biting your leg—you flounder before a set of arms catches you, pinning you down with strange gold and red fur on his chest that warms your deathly chilled body. You scream but another set of hands holds down your caught leg—this one with deep blue and silver swirls in the fur on his chest. You dissolve in the horror of the end that will come from too many jaws—

A musical steel note plays when he breaks the chain in half with his raw strength. You keep thrashing, struggling to get away, but the fox men are too strong, and the one holding you keeps asking you to stop being frightened—they only want to help. The other digs his dark claws into the metal trap and pries it apart as the other drags you out of reach of the contraption maw, and you cry from the pain of it all.

The two begin yipping and fussing. When they press their hands to the bleeding bite mark on your leg, the anguish overwhelms you until all you see is white, then nothing.

They become frantic at your slumped form and all the blood on your silky white fur. Sun takes to your wound and Moon takes you in his arms, and keeping pressure on the strange bite, they carry you back to their den. There, you'll be safe and warm, and there, they can help you with your broken leg.

Hopefully, you won't keep screaming when you wake up. (You will.)

[phantombs]

He's all things a nightmare. It seems they've gone regal. Perched lazily atop the stairs, its stone cracked and decrepit, his mighty throne – weathered, pocked by sun – is plainly a mass of rot and ruin. It’s contrasting, however, considering the rich gold of his jewels, and fanned about his body flows his gonryongpo's silk red like cherries and deep as night. The stars above glimmer, and the full moon keens. He casts them his eyes, eyes silver like twilight, and haughtily, gaugingly, bids them come. “Nights like these,” the strange man starts, voice prowling and deep, “can make your thoughts turn. And it has me wondering. Has been, really. But when does a monster start being one exactly? When the midnight births him, or when he makes you shake? Well, the latter’s not fair at all. You always shake.”

Always. He, king-thing, wolf-beast in flesh, flips onto his belly, head in his arms. He waits. “Aren’t you shaking right now? You’re so alone out here.”

open.

[ghcstao3]

Born!werewolf soap and Turned!Werewolf Simon.

Simon was turned into a werewolf during his time with Roba, tied to a man so horrible he never associated lycanthropy with anything but pain, and lack of control. It only ever reminds him of a time when he was always hungry for affection, yet violent without it. He never shifts without choosing to, and purposely ignores his needs as long as he can, until it’s debilitating.

Soap who has been a werewolf his whole life, knows his pack’s history like the back of his hand. He’s extremely attuned to his instincts, and to other wolves. It’s almost more comfortable for him to be a wolf, than go through the pain of humanities stiffness.

Them finding eachother and hurt/comfort <3

Initially, upon meeting Ghost, Soap is more than glad to finally have the opportunity to work with another werewolf, let alone one known for his skill, his precision, his deadliness—but then Soap is just as soon finding out that there's far more than meets the eye about Ghost's own condition.

Ghost, like most werewolves, was born human. There's a faint but distinct smell about him that tells Soap this, and initially, it's really no concern of his. Outside of his family, most other werewolves Soap had encountered in his life were turned at one point or another.

What separates Ghost from them, however, as Soap soon figures it out—is that Ghost never shifts. Not unless he has to, anyway. And that makes Soap curious more than anything.

Because shifting is such an integral part to being a werewolf. It's natural, freeing, and it's one of Soap's favourite things. It's a new kind of powerful that's so important and special to a werewolf, that Soap could never understand why Ghost would ever want to stave off such a thing. And being that Ghost is so tight-lipped about his own life, Soap has no idea where to begin guessing.

It isn't until months of knowing each other that Soap starts to get a hint.

The mission is tough. The team is in a tight spot, and only Soap's claws and teeth and strength aren't proving to be enough. So with a look Soap can't quite decipher, Price pleads silently with Ghost to do the one thing they all know he hates.

But because it's necessity, Ghost follows through. Soap should have clocked something was wrong in hearing pained groans and too-loud cracks of shifting bones, but he can't do anything to stop it. Can only watch as Ghost is released and begins a massacre, and Soap can only trail behind to pick off stragglers.

Once everything is said and done—it takes an hour to find Ghost, who had taken on the unfortunate task of shifting back alone, and who is discovered curled up and staring ahead at nothing in a far corner of one of the warehouses they'd been assigned to raid.

He bares his teeth when Price moves to approach him, a low growl rumbling out of his throat. Price pauses and glances back to Soap, whose hesitant attempt is met with no protest.

Huh.

That distant look still glazes over Ghost's eyes, though the fog clears ever-so slightly when his attention is called to Soap sitting beside him. Where Soap feels more alive than ever after a shift, Ghost looks... small. Afraid.

Hurt.

Soap begins to suspect the circumstances of his turning had been less than favourable, and his heart breaks with that realization.

Ghost, as touch averse as Soap has known him to be, tucks into Soap's side without prompting, leeching off his warmth and comfort while, in witnessing the scene, Price and Gaz turn and head out to meet exfil and explain the situation.

Whatever had happened to Ghost to have his shifts be this way—Soap determines then, in that very moment, that once they're back to safety and Ghost is back within himself, Soap is going to find a way to help him make peace with this inescapable part of his being. He'll find a way to turn bad into good, or neutral, at the very least, because Ghost doesn't deserve to be a stranger to himself.

Soap will take that pain away if it's the last thing he does. Because he doesn't think he could ever stand seeing Ghost so broken again.

He wraps his arms around Ghost's broad frame and lets the lieutenant bury his face in Soap's chest with a vulnerability Soap only gets to witness as a cause of animalistic instincts still not having worn off. It'll be inevitable, when Ghost comes to only to back off and shut everyone out for a little while, but for now, Soap selfishly indulges in the comfort as much as Ghost needs it.

Soap will make that pain his own, if he has to, he thinks.

[catcze]

oh btw i know that a werewolf is a pretty obvious pick for your newest man but he does look like he'd make for a great vampire who has to actively resist the urge to feed on you because "your blood is... so sweet... and you're so... enticing... just a taste, please..."

or not! who knows ehe <3

Reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

「 CWS : 」 A little suggestive due to the intimate nature of blood drinking, but nothing sexual or even leading up to any sexual activity happens. That being said, if ur bothered by Wrio finding the reader tasting delicious + Reader enjoying being drank from a lot, maybe dont read;;; this is 2k words of non-sexual intimacy and love and trust !!

I have a confession;;;; I really really really love the vampire x human trope,,,,,, even just a teeny tiny bit more than I do the werewolf x human trope,,,, so,,,,, SO,,,,,,,,,, vamp! Wrio is setting all kinds of good signals off in my brain rn;;;;;;; i have;;;;;; many;;;;; many thoughts;;;; ON MY HANDS AND KNEES DONT LET THIS FLOP PLS 💔💔💔

You're on his lap. Wriothesley's on his chair, hands practically clawing into the armrests. You wouldn't be surprised if he'd rip it. His eyes don't know where to look— they flit around every inch of his office, avoiding your own. But they always end up glancing back at your neck no matter how much he tries to pry them away.

He gulps.

"You're hungry."

"I'm not," he immediately denies, ignoring the way his fangs ache at just being able to smell your blood so close.

You frown. "You haven't eaten in a week, Wrio."

"I have—"

"Animal blood doesn't count. That shit can only work for so long, and you know it."

He swallows, hands clenching even tighter, nails digging into leather armrests. He looks away from you, rendered silent.

You watch him as how he tries to ignore you. Delicately, you place a hand on his cheek, urging his eyes back to meet yours.

"Why don't you just ask me?" You murmur. "You know I'd say yes. You know I'd do anything for you."

His face twists. "That's the problem," Wriothesley says bitterly, teeth clenched. Even from here, from the limited view you have past the curl of his lip, you see how his sharp fangs gleam. "I— if I drink from you, I won't want anything else. Ever. I already have a hard enough time just being around you, but if i get even just a taste..." he trails off, swallowing. "You're all I'm going to crave, sweetheart."

Wriothesley expects you to pause or hesitate. Maybe even extract yourself from him. He wouldn't blame you. Ever since the first time his thoughts betrayed him and he wondered what you'd taste like on his tongue (honey and nectar and heaven and ambrosia, all in one) he's been so careful to hide how he hungers for you, lest you think he's a monster who'd hurt you for his own gain.

In an ideal world, you never would have had to see him like this— starving, thirsting. Every single cell in his body urging him to get on his knees and beg you for just a taste. He'd get the fear and the apprehension, even though it'd crack a little piece of his cold, unbeating heart.

But you just roll your eyes and unbutton the collar of your shirt. leaning down so the side of your neck is right within his sight. His mouth dries as the thump of your pulse comes ever closer, freezing him in place.

"You're not going to hurt me," you say, conviction in your voice. You inch closer.

Wriothesley feels another part of his self restraint collapse.

Against his better judgement, he's actually thinking about it now. He crumbled so fast that it might be a little pathetic, he knows. Maybe his mind is addled from the hunger, maybe he's addled by his hunger for you, but he knows that he's fraying with every millisecond that you spend so close.

"No, not— not there," He protests quietly, even though he's itching to reach out and sink his teeth into your pulse. Fuck, you smell delicious up close. He's damn near losing his mind here, the object of his love and the greatest temptation to his gluttony practically sitting on his lap, offering up something that he's craved for so long. Still, he gathers what bits and pieces of his restraint that he can and manages to gently nudge you back, just enough that he can think without being driven mad by the idea of his mouth on your neck.

The protest is already ready on your tongue, but he takes a gentle hold of your wrist instead, pressing a kiss to the tips of each finger. His thumb rubs gentle circles into the skin, and the pulse under his fingers makes the emptiness in his stomach increases tenfold.

"Here," he tells you. "It'll be easier to push me away if you need to."

You say nod, pushing your wrist closer to his mouth. "Drink up," you tell him. He pushes away his hesitation, and with one last lingering kiss, he presses his mouth to your wrist and bites.

And fuck, he was right.

Heaven and sunlight and euphoria bursts on his tongue, making his brain practically short circuit. Wriothesley concludes then and there that compared to you, anything and everything else he's ever tasted was bland in comparison. He can barely even attempt to describe it— with each drop you willingly give, his hunger is both sated and amplified. A sound escapes him, a mix between a groan and a whimper muffled into your skin.

When you hum, warm fingers carding through his hair and urging him to take more, he feels like he ascends. Acting on instinct, his arm snakes around your middle to hold you in place— to keep you close. His grip on you is firm, but he's careful not to dig his fingers too hard into your skin.

And as much as this is affecting him, it's affecting you too. Your head grows light in the best way possible, like you're experiencing a euphoric high. You scratch a bit harder at his scalp, pulling a desperate noise from his lips that makes you tremble in his hold. You'll sit here for as long as he needs to feel better, for as long as he needs you.

Quicker than you would have wanted, Wriothesley reluctantly pulls away. By then the color's only just started to come back to his face and he's panting like he's been on a brisk jog. He looks much less sickly, yes, but you observe with a frown that he's still not quite yet at tip-top shape.

Hesitantly, almost reverently, he presses a kiss to the wound on your wrist, then gives the smallest of licks. it tingles, but after a moment the sting of it fades to a dull throb, and then nothing. But before he can push you off, you're leaning down again, same position as before, with your neck in his line of view. An open invitation.

"You need to drink more," you murmur. You try to ignore the rush of blood in your face, the tingle in your core. For as much as he was scared of getting addicted to you, you fear now you're getting addicted to him, too.

"I shouldn't," Wriothesley says, barely above a whisper.

He should push you off— should let you rest. Should wrap you in his coat and get you some water and a snack after you've already let him drink so much of you.

It had been hard enough to resist earlier, but now? Your blood is pumping so hard he can practically hear it. And you taste so sweet. You had made the slightest of noises when he fed on you— he doubts you even realized it, what with the haze you were in. Just the smallest of whines when he drank from your wrist, but each breathy sigh and whisper of his name was enough to make him crave more.

A small, traitorous corner of his mind wonders if you'd be even more vocal with his teeth on your neck.

He swallows, knowing he's already fighting a losing battle. He's so, so weak for you. His one arm doesn't budge from around your waist, but his hand moves up to cup your cheek. He drags your eyes to meet his, and you can see the seriousness amidst the hunger.

"You tell me if anything hurts." Wriothesley's arm around you tightens almost imperceptibly. "Anything. Please."

You hum, happy, nuzzling closer into the cradle of his grip. "Okay. I know you'll stop if I ask." And oh the faith you have in him has heat pooling in his gut and a foreign pressure grow behind his eyes.

His voice is hoarse he says, "Yeah sweetheart. Of course I will."

He comes close and you shift your head, giving him more space to work. First thing he does isn't even bite— he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, decorating your skin with kisses and licks and nips, delighting in the small protest of 'that tickles!' that he elicits from you.

You let him shower you in affection a little bit more, but eventually your hand works into his hair, tugging. "Okay, no more stalling," you say, breathless. "C'mon, time to eat."

And he's still nervous of taking too much— can feel his stomach roil at just the thought of hurting you, but he trusts you. Trusts you as much as you trust him, too. So he takes another deep breath, presses one last tender kiss to your skin, and sinks his teeth into your neck.

A small whisper of him name escapes our throat just as a groan leaves him because fuck— you taste even better. Flavor multiplied times what feels like a hundred, making his cold cold heart do flips and tricks in his chest. The hand you bury in his hair tugs, pulls, but brings him closer instead of away. You push him further into you, begging him to take more, and he happily obliges.

Wriothesley presses kisses and licks to your neck between drinking down mouthfuls, making sure not to waste a single drop. He's pulling you against his chest so tightly— hand bunched in the back of your top that you fear he might rip the fabric, but you decide that you don't really care if he does.

With each drink he takes, each satisfied, muffled noise that leaves him, you feel yourself melt more and more against him until you're boneless in his hold. Despite how he drinks as if it's his last, he still has the good mind to shift you a bit higher in his lap, to make sure he's holding you comfortably. His hand rubs soothing circles into your hip, and he tries to recline back into his seat as much as he can so you can lean into him.

Your heart pounds even harder, the blood rushing to your ears, and you think he feels it with the way his hunger seems to double.

Your eyes are half-lidded, gaze hazy and growing sleepy with each progressive second. But it doesn't hurt in the slightest. You feel warm, if anything— warm and happy that you were able to help him, and make sure he's well.

He's slowing a little. His hunger finally abating and making way for something more tender and soft. You scratch his scalp lovingly and lean your head against his. A sweet, sleepy kiss pressed to his temple makes his pace falter.

Wriothesley soon separates himself from your neck, pressing a kiss and a kitten lick to your newest wound. Like the one on your wrist, it tingles for just a bit before any stinging or pain vanishes entirely.

"Hey baby," he murmurs, pulling away slightly to look at your face, but making sure his arm is still wrapped around you. To keep you steady, to remind you that he's here. He smiles a little at your happy, dazed expression, but even now you can see the lingering worry. "You with me?"

You respond with a hum, nodding as best as you can. "Yeah. 'm okay."

Wriothesley laughs a little, watching you stumble over your words. He lets you fall flat against his chest with you head hanging on his shoulder and cradles you against him. One hand goes to twine your fingers with his, desperate to hold you as much as he can, and the other snugly tucks your head under his chin. In his embrace, you feel the beat of your heart gradually slow back to a calm. It leaves you boneless and tired, the crash of it all finally hitting you and making your eyelids flutter.

"That's good." You can feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. "Did anything hurt at all, honey?"

You shake your head. Too tired to look up at him, so you squeeze his hand instead. A kiss is pressed to the apple of his throat. "Nothing. I'm just tired, 's all. I'm fine."

He holds you closer, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. "Yeah. Yeah, that's good. Thank you, my love. Let's get you something to eat and drink, then we sleep— how does that sound?"

You just hum your agreement, limbs feeling heavier and heavier with each passing second. Wriothesley places a kiss to the crown of your head. With utmost gentleness, he cradles you in his arms as he stands, trying not to jostle you as he makes his way out of the room.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmurs, heart growing three sizes in his chest, arms full of the most precious thing in his world.

You bury yourself further into him. "Love you more, Wrio."

[ #Taglist registration here !! ]

[dol--blathanna]

Thinking a lot about Orym choosing a rabbit when asked what animal he would pick if cursed with lycanthropy.

Because, it makes sense. Orym is small, quick, agile, jumps well, and is highly perceptive. That definitely evokes rabbit imagery. But a lot of Orym’s identity is also tied up with being a protector – giving people AC bumps, the shield being as much a part of his fighting style as his sword, even his title: Saviour Blade of the Tempest. He wants to be a “Shield that protects Exandria”; his priorities about saving the gods are less about the gods themselves, and more about protecting the people of Exandria from the unintended consequences and bloodshed of releasing Predathos. And it would’ve been very easy to pick a large, strong predator to try and evoke the sense of a protector – a wolf, for example, an animal associated with loyalty and protecting its pack. Yet Orym chose a rabbit.

And I think that’s interesting, because rabbits are often seen as ‘cute’ animals – but they’re also a prey animal. In fact, they’re a common food source for many animals across several ecosystems: foxes, wolves, wild cats, dogs, birds of prey like eagles or owls, coyotes, stoats, and humans (and that’s just off the top of my head). Rabbits are skittish, easily frightened; to be rabbit-hearted is to be timid or cowardly. They are not generally associated with fierceness or prowess in fighting. Mice and rats are prey animals too, but typically seen as vermin (rabbits are sometimes seen as vermin too, but a farmer could eat a rabbit – they wouldn’t eat a rat). Deer are prey, but they have hooves and antlers that bring a danger to hunting them, for any animal – the difficulties of hunting rabbits are more related to their evasiveness, speed and good hearing than any life-threatening danger they might pose. Rabbits are, first and foremost, prey animals. They are killed and eaten, so that another animal might live.

Which made me think a lot about one of Orym’s other key traits: self-sacrifice. Bait and switch doesn’t just bump up his ally’s ACs, it specifically switches their place to put him directly in harm’s way. Goading attack is meant to encourage enemies to attack him instead of his friends. He literally made a deal with a hag, essentially exchanging his own life for power to protect his friends. How many times has he gone down in a fight? He’s not the only tank – but unlike Ashton (and Chetney, who also uses ‘self-sacrifice’ in his fighting style with his blood curses) he has no abilities to reduce the damage from the hits he takes (barbarian rage and the werewolf form).

(Side note: I think it’s pretty interesting that Chetney, the wolf, has attacked Orym, the rabbit, more than anyone else when losing control. That Orym’s facial scar was given to him by a friend, not a foe).

Of course, Orym isn’t the only character with self-sacrificial tendencies (FCG wins by a landslide), but I just can’t stop thinking about how weirdly perfect it is that he chose a rabbit for his animal. Rabbits are prey animals. They are eaten, so that other animals may live. Orym takes the hits, he goads and switches with his team mates to put himself in danger, he makes a deal with a hag at the cost of his own life. He’s a soldier, throwing his life away for a cause over and over again because Ludinus must be stopped, because Keyleth has put her trust in him, because it’s the only way to protect his friends, to protect everyone, because it’s the right thing to do. Orym is a rabbit. He’s always been a rabbit. That day in Zephrah, it could have easily been Orym who died instead of Will and Derrig – “unfortunate but necessary sacrifices”, as Ludinus viewed the attack. It’s unfortunate they had to die, but it was for the greater good, according to Ludinus. It’s unfortunate that a rabbit has to die, but it will feed a family of foxes, or stoats, or even a hungry human, so it’s acceptable, right?

Orym is a rabbit. He is giving himself to a greater cause that could very easily kill him – he already willingly signed his life away to Nana Morri. Because that’s what rabbits do. They die to feed others.

And the theme of being disposable is present across the entire group, not just in Orym – Bell’s Hells has been called a “party of NPCs” before. Aside from FCG’s death, I’d say Laudna perhaps fits this theme the best: she was literally murdered and hung from a tree simply because she looked similar to Vex, acting as a warning to adventurers she had never met before. But FCG’s death was – rightfully – viewed as a terrible tragedy by the group. Laudna’s decision to remove Delilah, finally freeing herself from her abuser and emphasising she is more, and deserves to be more, than just some disposable puppet – this was rightfully viewed as a very good thing! But Orym seems to be embracing this identity of self-sacrifice instead, rather than this mindset being properly challenged or acknowledged as a bad thing. After all, there’s no time. There’s too much at stake. Keyleth, Bell’s Hells, all the memories of those who have died in this fight, all the people who might die if Predathos is released and kickstarts a second Calamity – they’re all relying on him, right? A rabbit feeding so many animals with his sacrifice. And it’s not malicious compared to the way that, say, Delilah killing Laudna was an incredibly evil, fucked up and unnecessary thing to do. If Orym died to save everyone else, well, at least everyone else would be saved, right? Saving lives is good, isn't it? How could he complain?

Because rabbits are prey animals, and Orym is a rabbit too. Destined to die so that another animal may feed.

Except, that’s not true. Rabbits are more than just prey. They’re highly social, and thrive best living with others. They’re playful, they enjoy running around and kicking their legs just to show their enjoyment. They’re inquisitive and mischievous, even being associated with tricksters in some folklore and stories. They’re also associated with innocence, playfulness, spring, youth – all manner of things, depending on the story or culture. And they’re not helpless, either, even if they might be thought of as such. They can bite and scratch and draw blood quite easily if they want to! In fact, freezing up isn’t their only response when being attacked by a predator, they are known to fight back if cornered. They can sprint quickly, they have excellent hearing and senses of smell, they know how to evade predators.

Rabbits are prey, and they are also survivors. They have their own social dynamics, their own habits and dislikes and preferences. They are more than just a wolf’s meal. And Orym is more than a soldier, too. He’s more than a “necessary sacrifice”, he’s more than just a shield and sword. He deserves more than to die for a cause. He deserves a happy ending, just like everyone else. I hope he remembers that.

Orym is a rabbit. And the message isn’t that he shouldn’t be a rabbit. It’s that rabbits are worthy of surviving, too.

[dark-moonlust]

Werewolf’s Birthday Presents

Pairing: Werewolf x human reader

Summary: It’s your birthday, and your werewolf has special gifts in store for you—gifts that will leave you gasping and moaning as you enjoy one orgasm after another.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit werewolf smut, oral(fem receiving), huge 🍆, lots of cumming (fem). Don’t like, don’t read.

The cabin was lit by the fading glow of the fireplace.

Ass up in the air, face pressed to the side, you writhed on the bed, your mate’s long tongue thrusting deep into your cunt. Your werewolf held your thighs apart, while he claimed your tight pussy with shameless skill. Bubbling and moaning, you wiggled your waist and fisted the cotton sheets while he had his way with you, devouring your pussy over and over.

It was your birthday, and your mate had promised to give you the best of gifts; one orgasm after the other.

You cried out as you were wracked by another orgasm— was it the fourth or the fifth? You’ve lost count. Your thoughts turned into mush as your pussy clenched around his large tongue. Your big hairy boyfriend growled and didn’t stop stroking you— of course he didn’t.

You gasped, your hips bucking as he found your clit, swirling his tongue around the swollen nub. Your whole frame trembled, the sensations electric. He did it again, circling your clit, his wicked tongue moving in deliberate movements. His musky scent and the heat of his mouth drove you mad with longing and, in no time, you were flying high toward another climax.

“Pl—ahhh… please don’t stop, baby,” you mumbled, your heart pounding in your chest.

“It’s your birthday, little one,” he said, teasing your folds with flicking licks. “I’ll never stop. I’ll make you the damn happiest girl in the world.”

Your orgasm built quickly and crashed over you with perfect blissfulness. Moaning, whimpering, and chanting his name, you let go, your body shaking with force. He didn’t let up, and this time he thrust a thick manicured finger (he kept his nails neat and round for you) inside your quivering depths.

You whined with little aftershocks while he kissed your sensitive clit and purred at you.

“That’s it,” he drawled, a vibrating growl leaving his chest. “Beautiful… my mate is so beautiful when she’s enjoying her birthday gift.”

A flurry of movement and you found yourself sitting back against the headboard, your monster mate crawling between you and draping your legs over his muscular chest that was covered in a fine layer of brown fur. He spread your legs wide, exposing your pink glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

“Fuck me, please?” you asked sweetly, your fingers opening the lips of your cunt. You wanted his cock.

But that didn’t seem to have the effect you wanted.

Eyes darkening, he bent down and nosed your folds. “My pretty pink pussy. Smells like heaven.”

“Hnn…please, no…”

You meant to say no more teasing, but your words died out when his tongue thrust back inside your cunt. You arched and grabbed his head, but he gripped your asscheeks to keep you in place for his claiming. Thin moans were ripped from you when he curled his tongue upwards, hitting your G-spot. Once again, he had you thrashing wildly, breath coming in short gasps, yet another orgasm hitting you like a freight train.

Breathless and trembling, you didn’t protest when he lifted you and positioned you above his massive, throbbing cock. His shaft was massive, he was so aroused that his knot had already started forming at the base. The slick head of him rubbed against your pussy, his amber eyes fixed on your face. He lifted you a little, adjusted himself until the head of his shaft stretched your entrance.

“Ready to be fucked, birthday girl?”

You nodded eagerly and opened your mouth to reply but a loud cry left your lips instead. He’d pulled you down and impaled you on his cock, your ass resting on his hairy hips. You gasped at the sheer size of him, your walls clenching around his thick cock.

He looked up at you with a smug grin. “Happy birthday, my love. I’m going to give you your second gift now.”

And then he started fucking you, his cock claiming your pussy, the room filled with your moans, his growls, and the wet plap-plap of your bodies joining together. He fucked you again and again, stretching you in ways that left you breathless.

You eagerly took what he gave you, your heart full of love, pussy filled so full of him.

This would be a night you would NEVER forget.

[bettyfrommars]

Death Becomes Us

vampire!Eddie x supernatural!Reader

Part 11: Strange Blood

masterlist playlist

18+only, smut, unprotected piv, oral, blood drinking, mind-bending moments, supernatural elements, vampires, fear of the unknown. Hopper and vampire!Joyce, werewolf!Steve, and a few others.

word count: 12.4k

Summary: All I can say is that this is another wild one, lmao. Not an action-packed rollercoaster like the previous chapter, but definitely some odd things going on. You know me, it gets a bit wacky. It's been my honor to be on this journey with you, and I hope you enjoy this final chapter. I love you, dear readers.

A/N: Hi everyone who has patiently waited for more of this story, Betty finally did it! I had a hard time coming back to this one only because I wasn't sure in which direction I wanted to take it. Oh, and also, I forgot how to write there for a while but anyway, the previous chapter was such chaos, and I wanted to take them in a different direction, so I did. Although this is the end of the series, there is still plenty I want to write for the True Blood universe, so this will not be the end.

------

this picks up right where part 10 left off

“I have dreams about you too, you know,” Eddie said softly from the edge of the bed. Shirtless and quickly healing after the bullets were removed, he used both hands to pull his hair into a ponytail, and then released it. 

Sweat bloomed on your scalp, and all you could do was swallow thickly, spinning on your heel to head for the hallway.

“I’m sorry if what I said was too much,” you babbled in a rush.  “We can just forget—”

Eddie hopped up to snatch your hand.  “Hey wait—don’t,” he heard the harsh desperation in his voice and then softened it to a whisper.  “Please.”

You stopped in your tracks and let him tug you backwards slowly, step by step.

Before he could put his arm around your waist, you turned on a dime, sliding fingers along the cool ripples of his ribs, watching his parted lips, the way his breath hitched in surprise.  It felt like there was no time and no distance in between his mouth and yours; suddenly they clashed together and your hand made a fist in his hair. 

He wasn’t expecting it, but neither were you, and it was a breathless, awkward meeting of teeth for a moment. Stumbling back so that his legs hit the back of the bed frame, Eddie toppled to the mattress, taking you with him.

You weren’t sure if it was the tension that had been building between the two of you, or the adrenaline from the recent vampire massacre that happened right outside your door, but you devoured each other like it was the last day of immortality.  

For as much of a prick as he could be out in the real world, Eddie was gentle and eager, taking your clothes off with trembling hands so that he didn’t rip them before he tasted you from face to hip, kissing down the jagged scar on your sternum while you clung to his head and writhed.

It was more than foreplay to him; his attention was a form of worship, the next best thing to running his mouth was filling it full of you.

You clawed at his belted black jeans and he smiled against your kiss.  “So, does this mean you like me?”

Your eyes locked while you helped to push his denim jeans down to his hips, your heart in your throat.  “You need me to say it?”

“You don’t have to, but I’ll say it,” he lifted up on his forearms, his hair tickling your cheeks from the way he hovered over you, one dimple popping up from his crooked smile.  “I really really dig you.”

“Show me,” you whispered, lifting to slide your nose along his, making a shiver run through him.  

“As you wish, m’lady,” he chuckled, pushing his jeans all the way off and kicking them to the side with such force that they hit the wall.  

He had no right to be so gorgeous, you thought, running hungry hands down the icy, tattooed flesh of his stomach where the bullet holes had already healed.  A single whisper of, “I wanted this for so long,” came out in a breathy whisper when he intertwined his fingers with yours.  

Being pressed up against your skin made him feel like he was standing too close to a raging bonfire, like maybe his body hairs would get singed.  He wanted to beg you to leave a mark on him; the branding iron of your touch to claim his animated corpse.  

He made you come with his mouth first, growling into you as you shook and fluttered on his tongue.  His skill level suggested that it was not his first rodeo by far, but you could tell he was listening and learning about the things that felt best to you, the right speed and pressure that made you cry out his name and claw at his skin. He wanted to please you—more than that, Christ—he wanted to be the only one.

Eddie fucked you into next week. Each of you were sweaty and depraved, but his saliva felt like melting ice, and you could almost hear it sizzle when it met your heat.  Tongues wrestling together, moaning sweet and filthy things until you were bouncing on top of him, hips snapping up to meet you, cumming so hard you thought you might explode into vapor.

His fangs latched onto the side of your throat after you begged for it, making everything messy and sticky.  You liked hearing the way he whined when the tang of your blood hit his tongue, the way he fed from your vein, sealing the wound with a few kitten licks.  At one point, with crimson dripping down either side of his chin, he was taking you from behind and his hips stuttered.

“Roll over,” he rumbled.  “I need to see you.”

And that was how he came, buried deep with his eyes locked on yours, spilling every drop until he was almost convulsing.  He sliced a cut on his chest with the fingernail of his thumb, and coaxed you up to drink from him, moaning at your insatiable hunger, the way you moaned into him.  

Eddie might’ve been lost in the heat of the moment, but he knew what he felt for you was more than just… “like”.  His head spun when you whimpered things like, “deeper Eddie, cum inside of me.”  

It’d been years since he’d slept with someone he cared about, but even then, it wasn’t like with you. He’d never seen anything as beautiful as the gentle kisses you planted on his palm before sucking his fingers while you rode him.

Yeah, he had it bad for you.  

Neither of you bothered to clean up once the pace began to slow down.  He rolled onto his side to make out with you with dried blood in the corner of his mouth, not ready to end what you just shared, for fear it would never happen again.  

No one who mattered ever stuck around.

He ran a tender thumb over the scar on your cheek that was also caked with a line of crimson.  “So, you were in a…car accident?” He asked in a whisper.  

“Apparently I died,” you laughed to soften the harsh truth of it.  “My father tried…” you trailed off, and Eddie was about to say you didn’t have to talk about it, but then you continued.  “I guess you could say he exchanged his life for mine.”

“I wish I could’ve met him,” he trailed off, tracing your eyebrow with his finger.  He interlocked his fingers with one of your hands and held it to his chest.  “Tell him how grateful I am.” 

“He would’ve liked you,” the thought of never being about to introduce Eddie to your father made tears swell.  Eddie scooped you closer, pulling your leg up by the crook of your knee to wrap your thigh over the sticky length of his cock.  

“This is nice,” he hummed, eyelids flickering shut to the feeling of your warm breath on his shoulder.  “Stay with me for a minute?”

The two of you dozed off, and you awoke to Eddie shooting upright into a seated position with a jolt.

“Shit, it’ll be dawn soon,” he hissed, head spinning to look at the digital alarm clock by your bed.  

You sat up too, looking at the big window with thin white curtains that could never block the potentially murderous rays of the sun.  

“I could cover it with…something else? A comforter?” You hurried to shuffle off the mattress, suddenly panicked at the thought of what would happen if he was exposed to daylight. 

He was up and yanking his jeans on.  “These windows are a death trap,” but then a thought made him smile to himself.  “I guess if my time comes, I’d want it to be with you.”

“Your time has NOT come, okay?” You hastily pulled a t-shirt on from one of your drawers.  “I refuse to let the best sex of my life go without a fight.”

He cocked his head with a blushing smirk and repeated his question from earlier.  “Does that mean you like me?”

“Stop it,” you playfully shoved him on your way by, scooting a pair of shorts up your hips.  “This is serious.”

“Oh it’s very serious,” and then he caught your hips with both hands before you could get too far away and pulled you back.

“Let’s get you to a safe place first,” you muttered against his lips. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

A loud thud banged on the roof like a good sized rock landed from the sky, and you both knew it was Bela returning from wherever she’d been for the past few hours to avoid the danger.  When You turned the light on in the living room, Dio stretched and yawned from her position curled up on the arm of the couch.

From where you stood at the mouth of the hallway near the kitchen, you could see the front of Eddie’s trailer through the courtyard facing window.  A few steps more and you could see half of it, somehow unscathed by the fire.  

Surely, your eyes were playing tricks on you.  

Maybe it was the backside that had been affected by the flames? Maybe it was still too dark to see, but the sun would be up soon enough—

“Eddie?” You motioned for him to follow you, to see what you were seeing, and then you stood side by side, dumfounded.

Surely, most of his house should’ve been nothing but a pile of charred wreckage.  

An eerie feeling of fear washed over you, making your eyes dart over to the television screen, waiting for a face to appear like Brenner’s had the night before.  

“Something’s wrong,” you whispered.  “How could your trailer survive the fire without a scratch?”

Eddie’s pinky hooked onto yours when he couldn’t find the words.

You let out a heavy sigh a beat later when you figured it out.  “This is another dream, isn’t it? Of course it is.”

“No, no way,” he shook his head, paying attention to the horizon that would soon light up with his demise.  “There’s no way we would be in the same dream like this. This is real.”

Seeing Bela sail in the front door and land clunkily on the top of the TV gave you a huge amount of relief.  You patted the top of her smooth head a few times, thankful to have her as a constant.

“Be right back,” Eddie said just before he did that vampire thing and zipped outside at the speed of light.  You watched him dart in and out of his trailer, and then he was back at your side again.  

“That’s my trailer, all right,” hands crossed over his chest, he gnawed his lower lip in contemplation.  “Nothing’s missing, nothing was burned.  Even my guitar is over there, when I know I brought her here.  Doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

“No it doesn’t,” you agreed softly.  You should’ve been grateful his trailer was untouched, but instead it filled you with dread.

Eddie turned, eyes narrowing on the deep orange creeping over the mountains.

“I need to get underground,” he started looking around, like maybe he could dig a quick hole in the floor.  Instead, he went over to the western style couch with wagon wheels and cowboys on the upholstery and inspected it.

“Have you ever checked behind here?” He asked.

“No,” you frowned.  “Why would I?”

In one effortless swoop, he moved the piece of furniture away from the wall and then stood back.

There was a door built into the carpeted floor near the wall, complete with a handle and lock.  At first you couldn't see it, because it was covered in orange shag to match the rest of the living room.  You rested your tongue between your teeth, dumbfounded.

“Yeah so that’s a Sunlight Safe Room,” he scratched his head.  “They were built into all of the trailers way back in the day.  I just never thought to check for yours until now.”

He pushed the couch to the middle with Dio still asleep on the armrest.  “Call me paranoid, but I don’t want to be too far from you,” he knelt to open it.  “I can stay out of the sun here, if that’s okay?”

You were tempted to “go to rest” with him just so he wouldn’t somehow disappear like the evidence of the fire had.  Inside the hatch were ten metal steps downward that opened to a modest concrete area with a twin mattress on the floor.  

It looked creepy as hell, like something you’d see in a horror movie like Silence of the Lambs.

“I’ll get you a pillow,” you turned, but he called your name.

“There’s no time,” he was halfway down the steps. “I’ll see you after dusk, okay?”

You didn’t know why you were so afraid to be without him, but you nodded.

“I’ll lock it from the inside,” he said as he pulled the door down and descended.  “Stay safe okay? I’ll still be able to feel you if you’re in danger.”

He wanted to say something else to you, words that were clenching on his heart, but then worried it might be too soon.

Bela threw her head back and screeched, stretching out her wings.  

“Okay.”  You gulped.  “I’ll miss you.”

He smiled generously at that, just as the neon light of morning blossomed over the trailer park and you heard the click of the lock on the inside of his…what would you call it? Tomb? No, it was a Vampire Safe Room.

You shifted the sofa back in place and crossed your arms over your chest to stand and stare out the window at the untouched gnome on Eddie’s front steps, still flipping you the bird.  

If only its impish mouth could talk.

—-------

After dozing off on the sofa above Eddie for a few hours, you snapped awake flooded with fear that everything had gone back to “normal”.  But the door in the floor was still there, and Eddie was still in it; you could hear him snort-snore every so often.  The sound made you feel a tidal wave of relief.  

If you’d somehow slipped into another dimension, at least you still had Eddie.  

You took Dio back over to Eddie’s untouched trailer, just in case Bela forgot her manners, and you asked your demobat companion to keep an eye on Eddie while you were gone.  She chirped a few times, swaying back and forth to let you know she understood while she munched on chopped up bananas.  She wasn’t very hungry, but the claws on her wings had a hint of blood on them, and you figured she found something to eat in the woods, but you didn’t want to know what.  

You hadn’t touched your Polaroid camera in a while, but you used it to snap a photo of Bela then, with her gnarly grin stuffed with banana mash, and then you clapped the land camera shut and put it in your bag.  

There was not a single thing amiss in the courtyard of the Crimson Terrace trailer park.  No blood in the dead grass, no tracks from all of the vehicles and the crowds, and your hearse did not have a single new scratch.  

You shot a glance over your shoulder where Bela perched in the window, wondering if it was a good idea to leave Eddie defenseless like that with how weird everything was.  You shivered and zipped up the rest of your hoodie.  

On your way around to unlock the driver’s door, your landlord Dolores spotted you from four trailers away and came out to wave you down.  She wore one of her signature muumuus with pink curlers in her short, auburn hair.  .

You flinched as you walked up her three steps to the small porch, thinking she’d interrogate you about all of the chaos, or have an issue with you spending time with your vampire neighbor.  

But it wasn’t a scolding she wanted to give you; it was a letter.

Adressed to you with no return address, the envelope was weathered yellow like it had traveled across the ocean by rowboat, and then the rest of the way by horse and buggy.  She’d found it on her doorstep that morning.

“Thanks,” you said absently, turning it over in your hand as you walked off.  You waited until you were safely behind the wheel and down the street before you opened it, trembling.  

The piece of parchment inside was wispy thin, but the date was somehow...exactly a year from the day you were in.

That had to be a mistake. The person just messed up the numbers, it happens.

You’re probably very co fused right  ow.

That was how the letter started.

You stared at the words with dry, unblinking eyes, noticing that the letter “n” was missing from the typeset.

You folded the paper over in your lap and checked to see if anyone was nearby watching.  You bit on the cuticle of your pinky finger for a few seconds before opening it again.  

You’re i  a slightly differe t timeli e  ow.  That’s all I ca  say without revealing too much. Ma y thi gs will be differe t, but some will be the same.

A laugh bubbled in your throat; one of those insane laughs appropriate for absolute absurd things. It had to be a joke, one that you did not find particularly amusing.

A different timeline? How was that even possible? You’d been introduced to many odd things you never previously believed existed, but this one was a little more difficult to wrap your brain around.  

Whe  the time is right, everything will be revealed. U til the , stay safe.

It wasn’t signed, and there was no hint as to who or where it had come from.

You turned the weathered, creased paper over as if there might be a photo of the author, and then you stared out the dirty windshield, letting it sink in.

The most bonkers thing about it was that it actually made sense.  It was the only possible explanation for there being no sign of any of the wreckage from the night before.

If it wasn’t a joke, then who was this messenger committed to giving you a heads up? 

Tucking the letter into your bag with a hard swallow, you cranked the radio up on the way into town, headed to Main Vein. The trees were bare, and the sky was heavy with clouds, hiding a dollop of egg yolk sun behind their veil. You’d drop in to get your new schedule from Bob, and perhaps see if the town of Hawkins had changed.  

You caught sight of Argyle’s VW beetle parked down a side street and smiled to yourself, knowing at least that was a constant.  Main Vein was still housed in the same building, but the red neon sign in the window said VEIN ON MAIN instead.  .

Robin’s bookstore appeared to have a quaint cafe attached to it. You were able to get a glimpse of her there, sitting at a small, round sidewalk table.  Her hair was longer, worn in a ponytail, and she held hands with the other woman across from her.  At their feet was the tan pit bull terrier who had helped you defeat the Klemps all of those months ago in the alley.  

At least it looked like the same dog.  

Would they remember you at Main Vein? Or…Vein on Main? 

You drove around the block and then parked at the curb, the same place you’d parked the hearse the day of your first interview with Bob Newby.

The Main Vein you remembered had floor to ceiling windows in front that were covered in dark velvet blackout curtains during the day, but this space had a red brick front with two small windows painted black and a red door.  The windows each had neon signs in them: one for Pabst Blue Ribbon, and one for the synthetic vampire blood called NuBlood.

The black door opened to a space the size of a generous closet facing another door.  There was a gumball machine, a stack of local newspapers, and a guy on a stool reading what appeared to be a paperback romance novel. One of those bodice ripping ones with the dramatic covers. He had one foot planted on the ground, while the booted heel of the other hooked onto a rung on the stool.

His honey brown hair looked like it had been styled with a blow dryer, and he wore a pair of sunglasses pushed up to his forehead, even though he had no use for them since it was fairly dark in that nook.  

He glanced up bored at first, but then straightened when he saw you.

“It’s you,” Steve beamed, folding the corner of a page in his book to save his spot.  “I didn’t think you were on the clock today?”

Your mind froze.  So, Steve was your coworker in this new timeline? You tried not to let your brain short-circuit over this new information.

At least you could be comforted by the fact that you still had employment.

“Wait, what is your job again?” You asked, looking around the space between the two doors.

He gave you a side-eye as if you were fucking with him.  “I’ve been the bouncer for a few weeks now.  Argyle got me the job, remember?”

“Oh right, oh sure,” you nodded wildly a few times.  

“Are you feeling okay?” His look was one of genuine concern.   

“I’m good, I promise.” You offered a flat smile that did not reach your eyes. “But is it okay if I ask you another potentially really stupid question?”

“Shoot.” He crossed his booted feet at the ankles in front of him, leaning back.

“Did we…did we ever…” you bit the inside of your cheek.  “Did we ever…go on a date? To see a movie?”

Steve scratched his stubbled chin.  “Well I wouldn’t call it a date-date, but I was a third wheel with you and Erica that night Robin bailed on me.”

“And you’re still…also a werewolf, right?” Now the absurd questions were just flying out.

He tilted his head, and his eyes glowed red for a second as an answer.  “Last I checked.”

“Okay, good.”

“You sure you’re alright?”

“Maybe not?” You shrugged.  “But I’ll be okay.  Is Bob here?”

“Think so,” he was about to say more, but just as your hand was on the door to go in, the outside door began to open, and he hopped up.  “Hold on, there,” he told the person outside, pulling the door shut again.  “Only one door can open at a time.”

“Now you can go,” he nodded, gesturing for you to enter.  You didn’t confirm it, but figured that it was a safety measure to keep sunlight off of the vampires that were possibly inside.

Inside Vein on Main looked like a casino with various shades of burgundy and neon red.  No natural light, but the mirrored bar was backlit, and there were stained glass lamp shades hanging down over the dark booths to your right. A synth-wave techno beat thumped from unseen speakers as curls of smoke from the end of cigarettes gathered into a gray cloud. At the far back was a pool table and a stage in the corner on a riser with a bunch of musical equipment set up.

You saw Erica behind the bar, and were about to go over to say hello to her, but a cold hand clamped down on your shoulder.  

“Just the one I wanted to see,” Jareth’s voice rumbled in your ear.  

He was the last one you expected to bump into in a human/vampire crossover bar.  He’d always been much too above such things.  His blonde hair was slicked back, his blue eyes burning with intensity.

“How did you get in here in the middle of the day?” 

“I have my ways,” he said cryptically.  Older vampires like Jareth didn’t need to sleep as much as the younger ones, so he had more time to get up to mischief.  

“No but really,” you looked him up and down, noting that he was still in the standard, fashionable Jareth attire, and then glanced around to the handful of other patrons.  “What are you doing here?”

He glared at you skeptically.  “Why wouldn’t I be here? This is my bar.”

“What about Sacrament?”

“It’s still there,” he crossed his arms over his chest, curious about this odd line of questioning but, he decided to indulge you. “There’s an underground tunnel that connects the two.”

The new information was all very…disorientating, to say the least. You felt like your head was spinning, like you might possibly throw up or something.

“And Bob? What did you do with him?” There was a hint of frustrated anger in your tone.  

“Bob and Maxine run the place.  I am more of what you would call…a silent partner.” He pushed into your space, towering over you as if he might lower his head for a kiss.  “But you know this already, don’t you, Dove?”

You turned away, snatching his elbow to pull him into a booth with you.  He stood fast at first, not wanting to follow, but then slowly obliged.

“Listen, this will probably sound crazy,” you started.

“Oh I have no doubt about that.” He laced his fingers together on the polished wood table top.

A long exhale and then you laced your fingers on the table.  “Have you ever heard of anyone, um, jumping timelines?”

He sat back, expressionless.  “Are you saying that’s what happened to you?”

“Maybe, yes, yeah,” you paused to wonder if you should tell him  “I’m pretty sure know that is what happened to me, but I didn’t think it was possible.”

You told him about the past 48 hours, and about the letter you received from some unknown person.  

He gave it some thought, spreading his hands out flat to tap his thumbs on the table.  

“I’ve heard stories,” he appraised you with his chin tilted down. “But I’ve never met a Jumper in person.”

“Well, nice to meet you.”

“I always knew there was something about you,” he smirked.  “I knew you weren’t exactly human, but could never put my finger on it.”

“Congratulations.”

“I don’t know what you want me to do,” Jareth gave a micro shrug.  “If somehow you stepped into a nearby timeline, I wouldn’t know how to put you back.”

“I can’t believe how calm you are about this.”

The last time you saw Jareth, he was at your trailer park ripping Brenner and the rest to shreds with the help of a swarm of other vampires. You wanted to thank him, but then realized that was from another timeline he might not remember.

Jareth continued. “Maybe you were pulled into this timeline for a reason.  Maybe you weren’t meant to understand.”

You nodded absently, looking around at the new Vein on Main, feeling like you should wake up at any moment.  

“You said the letter you received was dated a year from now? Ever think you might’ve written it to yourself?”

Head spinning, might definitely puke.

“Maybe something worse happens in that other timeline and you jumped over to this one to avoid disaster.”

What if something bad happened to Eddie in that other timeline…

You couldn’t get over how chill about the whole mess Jareth was being.  Maybe all of the things he’d experienced in the 3,000 some years he’d been a vampire made it so nothing surprised him.

“One thing I have heard about Jumpers…” he waited to finish until a group of giggling humans walked by.  “...they eventually forget about the old timeline.  Somehow they assimilate to the current one and sync up with the memories.  It’s likely that one day, this one will be your new normal, and the other one will feel like a dream you had.”

You weren’t sure if that should comfort you or make you cry.

“Did I at least make a move on you in that other timeline?” Jareth wet his lips while he stared at you.  

“Absolutely not,” you responded with a slight roll of your eyes.  “Never going to happen in this one, either.”

“Never say never,” his grin was evil in the most charming way.

All you wanted to do at that point was go back to your trailer to sit on the floor and wait for Eddie to wake up.  

After a stop at the grocery store and gas station, that was exactly what  you did.  

—-------

The daylight seemed to last forever.  You reread the mysterious letter countless times, let Bela out for a few hours of flying, watched two episodes of Outer Limits with Dio curled up in your lap purring, and paced around the house, glancing at the horizon every so often. 

When the sun finally settled into a deep purple sea, you were kneeling at the front of the door when you heard the inside lock jiggle. 

“You’re here,” you exhaled a long-held breath, grinning so wide it felt like your cheeks might break while you braced the door open.  You also took that opportunity to snap a photo of him with your Polaroid camera, one of him with an expression caught between amusement and surprise.  It would end up being one of your most cherished photos of him.

“You sound surprised,” he chuckled.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes with the knuckle of one hand as he made his way up the steps with a yawn.  

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile that big before,” he remarked groggily. 

“I had this weird feeling you’d…disappear or something.”

“Nah,” he came up the final step and then crawled on top of you, making you go flat on the ground with a laugh, dropping the door down with a bang as you went.  “You’re stuck with me now, I’m afraid.”

You held his face with both hands, enjoying the weight of his body, the soft moaning and playful flicks of his tongue on yours.  

He lifted up to trace your mouth and chin with his finger.  “Did you have a good day while I was asleep?”

“I really missed you.” 

You tried to kiss him again, but he pulled further away, giving himself a double chin.  “Does that mean you like me?”

“I’m still deciding,” your eyes were full of stars as you searched his face. 

His hips rolled against you, giving away that his length was already hard, straining against his denim.  You reached down to feel him, popping open two of the buttons on his jeans while you were down there.

“Yeah?” He whispered, hooking two fingers inside the leg of your loose shorts to graze your panty line.  “You want this?”

“I want you,” his mouth was on yours before you could say another word, cradling his hand behind your head.

When he finally sank in with a moan, you grabbed onto his ass with both hands, urging him closer.

“I love those noises you make,” he mumbled, twitching inside of you.  

Your shirt was pushed up, and you’d probably have rugburns on your back later, but right then you didn’t care.  All you wanted was to be was as close to him as physically possible.

Eddie shivered when he was seated fully inside, practically purring at the way your nails scratched up his back.

“Bite me,” you gasped, offering the throbbing artery in your throat to him.

He paused, breathless, sliding his nose along your ear.  “I don’t want to take too much.  Last night was—-”

“Please.” You flexed and rippled around his cock, making him whine.  He’d cum in two seconds if you kept doing that.  “Just a quickie.”

“Just a quickie, she said,” he hummed. “Sweetheart you have no idea how true that is going to be if you keep squeezing me like that.”

The euphoria that rolled though you when he fed from your vein, coupled with the quickening of his hips when he was close made your eyes roll back in your head.  He slowed down, didn’t want to finish before you, but you clamped your legs around him.

He unlatched from your throat with a hiss, fangs stained and dripping. “The things you do to me, holy shit—-”

“Wait wait,” you pulled his face back up so that he would look at you.

He stilled with a frown. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, I just wanted…” you trailed off, heart wailing like a steam engine in your chest.

Still throbbing hard inside of you, he gave a hopeful smirk.  “Did you want to tell me that you like me?”

“No.” You said softly, hearing his throat click when he swallowed.  “But I think I might be in love with you.”

He froze, making sure he heard you correctly, thinking about maybe asking you to say it again just so he could hear it.  

He rocked further inside, smashing his mouth onto yours in a way that made you whimper, taking your hand to interlace his fingers.

“Holy shit I love you,” he panted.  “I’ve never felt this way before and I should’ve told you, I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid that—-”

“Shhhh.”. 

The next few hours brought more of the same, with Eddie never tiring and you craving him in a way that was animalistic.  Against the wall, in the shower, on the countertop, and you were both finally able to say the words that had been bubbling up in your chest for a while. 

Eddie tucked you in when you fell asleep, and then went over to his place to change clothes and call Gary to see if there was any work available at the chop shop.  

For some reason, it didn’t occur to either of you to talk about why everything was different, or why his trailer wasn’t a charred wreck. He’d been shot the night before with silver bullets and almost died, but it never got brought up in conversation again.

You’d fully intended to show him the letter, to tell him about the conversation you’d had with Jareth, but then somehow it simply slipped your mind.  

Bela came swooping in the next morning, yapping away like she had a story to tell, and you wished you could speak her language.  You remembered the night you rescued her, on your way back from the Upside Down with Eddie.  

Why had you gone to Sacrament that night? A date maybe? No, Eddie needed to talk with Jareth, that’s what it was.  You were just tagging along.

While you were pondering that night, you had this sudden lightheaded feeling, stumbling over your feet before you thankfully caught yourself on the kitchen island.  Making your way down the hallway to the bathroom, you felt like you were on a funhouse floor that was shifting, so you leaned into the wall to catch your bearings.

Splashing water on your face would have to do.  You ran the water as cold as possible, and when you saw your reflection in the mirror, you had one of those moments when you didn’t recognize your own face.

Surely, it happens to everyone from time to time, but have your eyes always been two different colors? One was an icy blue, and the other was light green, almost hazel.  As if your eyeballs belonged to two completely different people.

The scars, they were familiar.  Down your chest, along your jaw, at your shoulders, at your knees and down to your right foot. 

After a few deep breaths, your legs no longer felt like jello.  

You found a strange typed letter in your bag, but it didn’t make any sense, so you figured it was garbage and threw it away.  

—---------

Hopper roused up from a nap shirtless, still wearing his work trousers, to the smell of brown sugar baked salmon coming from the kitchen, and he sat up with a smile on his face.  Scratching his head, he changed into something more comfortable; a navy tee with a front pocket and jeans.  

“Smells good,” he called from the bathroom where he used a boar bristle brush on his hair and put a little cologne on.  He paused to appreciate the way there were two toothbrushes in the ceramic holder by the sink.  

He couldn’t believe this was his life, didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it.  

He had to part a heavy floor to ceiling curtain to get to the other part of the house.  It was hours from sunset, but still there was not a drop of natural light to be seen.  He’d renovated half of the trailer to be daylight safe for vampires–one vampire in particular— including covering the windows with metal sheeting that could be lifted at night, if they desired.

“I hope I didn’t leave it in for too long,” Joyce fussed with the rooster print potholders, bending over to get the dish out of the oven.  

“I’m sure it’s fine,” he followed her over to set the dish on the table and kissed the top of her head just before she finished what she was doing to wrap her arms around him.

“What about you?” He tipped her chin up to gaze lovingly at her face.  “Hungry?”

They had a case of NuBlood Type B for when she was in a pinch, but he preferred for her to have the real thing, he didn’t much care for the idea of her sustaining on that synthetic crap.  So, he took his iron supplements and stayed healthy, and became her main source of food.  She was never greedy, she always knew just how much to take.  

But that night, he had a surprise for her.  

“One moment,” she watched with adoring eyes as he opened a cupboard above the stove that was much too high for her to reach.  He pulled down what looked like a bottle full of corked red wine and presented it to her with a proud grin.

“Ordered it from that vampire mixology show you like,” he let her take it so she could read the label, her mouth set in an O of fascinated awe.

“Plasma donated by a meditation guru who only ate tangerines for a week. They say it’s some tasty shit.”

“Hopper,” she clutched the bottle with the yellow label to her chest and tilted her head to beam up at him.  “You didn’t have to do that, it must’ve cost a fortune.”  

He stared at her, unable to gauge her reaction.  “You don’t like it?”

“No I love it!” She gushed, snuggling into his embrace again.  “Nothing could ever taste better than my man, though.”

He rested his chin on her head, grinning like a fool.  “One day I’ll kick the nicotine habit and it will taste even better.”

“Well, don’t do it for me, you’ve gotta quit for yourself.”  She scooted away to take a bean salad out of the fridge.  

She always got up early to start her day so that they could have a meal together before she left for her job as a night time stocker at the local grocery store.  Hopper would wake up before sunrise to be able to spend time with her before she went underground to the safe cubby he’d built.  More and more, he considered becoming a vampire himself, just to be able to spend more time with her, but that would be a talk for another day.  

The table was set with a bouquet of wild, pink poppies, and then a plate with silverware for him, and a glass for her.  She’d been sad to give up real food for those first couple months when she was first turned, but by then, almost a decade later, she was amazed at how much she didn’t crave it.

“I had the darndest dream just now,” he cracked open a cold Schlitz and it fizzed.  

“Oh yeah? What about?” 

He almost didn’t want to say it out loud.

“It was a nightmare really.  You were dating Bob.”

Joyce burst out in a bubble of a laugh.  “Bob Newby? Of all people.  I do like Bob, though, he’s a nice man.”

“You like him more than me?” He teased, frowning.

“Hopper, please.”

He took a sip of beer.  “I was addicted to V in the dream.  Lonely, and hated my life.”

“Addicted to V, huh? That’s a tough one.” Joyce searched his face with sincere concern.

Vampire blood, or V, was sold illegally to recreational users, and it was highly addicting.  

He leaned forward, sliding his big hand up her arm.  “I’m addicted to you.”

Before they kissed she hummed, “you’re insatiable,” and then took another sip of her imported treat.

After the sunset, they sat out on the porch for a while, looking up at the stars.  Joyce nestled between Hopper’s legs with her back against his stomach in one of the lounge chairs, fingers intertwined at her middle. They talked about the kids, how Joyce’s son Will, who was also a vampire, would be joining them for dinner/breakfast on Sunday, and Jonathan would be bringing his girlfriend home to visit for the holidays.  Hopper’s daughter Sarah was on a backpacking trip across Europe, and their fridge was covered in postcards from her travels.  She called Hopper collect from Greece that day and told him she’d found a job there and planned to stay a bit longer.  He said he was happy for her, but it made his heart hurt to know he wouldn’t see her again until next year.  

“I’m pretty happy with this little life of ours,” Joyce said softly.

Hopper planted his lips on the top of her head.  “There’s no other timeline I’d want to be in.”

—-----

Eddie rolled up to the chop shop in the white porsche he’d lifted from the parking garage of a fancy restaurant in town.  He tipped the valets well, and they never gave him the keys, but were fine with turning their backs so that he could do his work.

From the dark alleyway, metal sparks were flying in the open garage door, and the sound of an electric drill buzzed away from the several other employees working the night shift.  Gary handed him an envelope full of cash for the car, and the first thing that came to Eddie’s mind was buying you that rare Kurt Vonnegut copy you’d had your eye on at Robin’s bookstore. 

He made his way through the busy work area to the back entrance where he’d parked the GTO.  It was still primer gray and needed a lot of interior work, but he liked working on it with Wayne, it was a way for them to bond.  

The moon was not yet full.  Maybe a few more days and it would be.  He stopped to stare up at it for a few beats, wondering if you were battling insomnia again and possibly looking up at it too.

It was late winter, so the sun wasn’t up for a while, and he had plenty of time to get you an iced coffee and have it waiting in the fridge for when you woke up.  He used the spare key tied around his neck when he got to your trailer and tip-toed in, trying not to rustle the knob so he didn’t wake you up.

But you were there on the couch next to Bela watching television.  Bela stuck her whole face into the bowl of dry cereal before her and came up with colorful Fruity Pebbles stuck to her lips while she munched, making growing sounds.  

“How long have you been up?” He took his leather jacket and battle vest off to hook them on the back of the door, revealing a Warlock shirt with the collar ripped out.  

“Dad’s on the news again,” you said without answering his question, without taking your eyes off the TV.  “He called last night to tell me about it, but I almost slept in and forgot.”

He sat down on the other side of Bela and stretched his hand along the back of the couch to squeeze your shoulder.  

Your father, the brilliant surgeon turned funeral director turned “mad scientist” in the media, was doing a tour as a guest speaker for several well-known universities.  A lot of people were fascinated by his brilliance, and his research on reanimating dead tissue, but some thought his work was an abomination.  

You were still his best kept secret.  He worked hard to keep the details of your life and your whereabouts hidden, but eventually you wondered if someone would find you.  You were the only human proof that his methods worked, but bringing your story to light would only put you at risk.  You no longer went by your birth name and everyone called you Dove.  He referenced you in public as his niece, and no one seemed to be asking any questions, at least not that you were aware of. 

“He’s wearing that tie we picked out for him,” Eddie noted proudly.  

When Bela finished her cereal and flew off to her perch near the window, you scooted into the nook made by Eddie’s open arm, smooching him before resting your head on his shoulder.  He had his knees spread wide, taking your hand the second it was close enough.

“I missed you tonight,” he mumbled into the side of your head.

“I work at the bar until late tomorrow.” You snuggled closer, putting our leg over his.  “You could pick me up and we could go steal cars together. I’d like to watch you work.”

It’d been a month since the first time you were intimate, and diving into a relationship felt like second nature.  You’d talked to Bob about letting you have more night shifts instead of working during the day, and he was enthusiastically understanding, clapping his hands together to rub them back and forth conspiratorially.  “I smell a romance blossoming.” 

Eddie came in one time for a drink at the bar and Argyle said, “dude, it’s weird to see you not all grumpy and sulking.”  And then Eddie caught your eye from across the room and gave you a little wiggle of his fingers, unable to wipe the permanent smile off of his face.  

For the first time you really felt like you’d found a home somewhere.  But also, there were things happening that were truly…odd.

In the sock draw in your bedroom, you found a few polaroids you didn’t remember taking.  

One was of a hearse that was the same make/model as yours, but it was solid black instead of black with white pinstriping.  Another was of what looked like Vein on Main, with Bob waving at you from the doorway.  The neon in the floor to ceiling window said Main Vein.  Had it been remodeled before you came to work there? But if so, how had you been the one to snap the photo?

You also found a key on your keyring that did not look familiar.  It was smaller than the rest with blunt, jagged teeth.

You showed it to Eddie, thinking it might be to open a glove box or something car related.

He brought it up close for examination, going cross-eyed.  “It almost looks like one of those gas cap keys, but your hearse isn’t that old.  To a secret diary, maybe?”

“I never write in a diary.  You know that.”  

“Well,” he sniffed.  “Let me put my Columbo hat on and crack this case.”

You could see his mind racing as he took it around the trailer, trying it in any lock he could find, including the front door knob, which was silly, but he had to rule it out. 

“Babe, what are you doing down there?”  You asked when you walked into the bedroom to find him on his stomach, fishing around under the bed with a flashlight.

“Just ticking all the boxes, my love,” he responded with a grunt.  He crawled in more so that you could only see him from the waist down.  His butt looked so cute wiggling there, you wanted to pinch it.  

“Ah ha!” He exhaled triumphantly, dragging something with him as he scooted back out. “I knew I saw a box under here when I was looking for Dio the other day.  By the way, you should really vacuum under there.  I think I saw a dust bunny with teeth.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you mumbled, arms folded, waiting to see what he caught from the depths of the shadows.

“There,” he jerked a square gray case out by the handle, settling on his knees to wipe his bangs away from his eyes. “The one thing we haven’t checked.”

There were no markings on it, but you saw the tiny silver key hole lock right away, lowering yourself to the carpeted floor next to him.  Hard shell case with worn corners as if it had seen quite a few travels.  There was a texture to it, and if you closed your eyes, it felt like snakeskin.  

“Do you know what’s in it?” His gaze flicked to your profile. “It weighs a ton.”

You turned your head from side to side.  “I’ve never seen that case in my life,” and that realization prickled your flesh.  “But maybe it was left here by the last tennant?”

“Why would you have the key, though?”

You turned to stare at each other, unsure of what else to say.  

“Try it,” he offered you the key, clearing his throat.

“I’d rather you did it.”

“Certainly,” but he said in a voice that mimicked Curly from the Three Stooges.  

The key fit, and when he twisted it, the latch clicked, and you held your breath.

“Drumroll,” Eddie flipped the latch up.

“Please just open it.”

He pushed the lid back and the metal hinges creaked.

Jaws unhinged, you both stared at the smoke gray Royal typewriter for a few beats, cocking your heads to the side in tandem.  

“A vintage typewriter.” Eddie stated the obvious.

“My mom used to have one like that,” you whispered it under your breath, not even meaning to say it out loud.

“So it is yours?” he waited.

“Um,” you ran the tips of your fingers along the edge.  “It must be.”

But, surely you would have remembered lugging that thing around.  In your mind's eye, you could see your index finger doing chicken pecks over the keys, but yet couldn’t recall anything you’d written.

“Do you have any paper?” Eddie got to his feet.  “We could try it out.”

“In the bottom drawer over there, I think,” pointing to the desk against the wall with three drawers down one side.

He carried the heavy piece of equipment out into the kitchen island to test it, rolling the paper in manually and clicking the typebar until it dinged into place.  

Akfj giahkasras va auiwyrg is what he typed.  

“There’s a letter missing,” he noted, taking a better look at the metal teeth inside.  

“It’s the N,” you said before he could.  It was almost as if you knew which letter it would be with your eyes closed.  It was stuck, jammed in place. 

“I think I know a guy who could fix that,” your boyfriend said softly, wanting to be helpful.  “Wonder if some WD-40 would do the trick.”

After Eddie left for an interview at the body shop of a popular vampire car dealership, you stared up at the fan on the ceiling of your bedroom, unable to sleep.  Bela was on one of her nocturnal adventures, Dio was back on her window perch at Eddie’s place, and you vibrated there in the loud silence.  The night sounds were more menacing, the flap of the loose shingle on the roof suddenly sounded like someone walking around up there. 

You were just starting to fade when you heard the click clack of the typewriter keys.

clickityclackclackclickityclack…Whack…DING

Adrenaline surged through your body and your eyes shot open, freezing there while invisible spiders swarmed your flesh.

But then, everything went quiet.  A full, creeping silence that made your ears ring. 

You held your breath and an owl hooted out in the woods.  What if you’d dozed off more than you realized and the sound was part of a dream?

Your gaze shifted slowly to land on the entrance to the hallway, waiting to hear creaking footsteps followed by a figure standing there. Maybe a tall creature with long arms and clawed hands and red eyes that glowed in the dark. After several minutes of nothing, you pulled yourself together, recognized your own strength, and kicked your feet out of bed.

Hands balled into fists, skin buzzing, you padded softly to the mouth of the hallway, keeping to the shadows, out of view of anyone who happened to be standing in the kitchen.  Maybe some elves and faeries came to fix the stuck N key.

ClickclickClackclackclick

Slower that time, but someone was definitely out there messing with your shit.

You rolled your back flat against the wall, hiding, thinking of a weapon you could use.  The ballpoint pen in the bedside drawer was the only thing you could come up with, and you brandished it like a knife at your ear with the point out.  

“Eddie is that you?” Voice wavering, you hovered just beyond the door frame.

The silence only thickened.

You felt that surge of electricity crackle along your muscles and your breathing deepened.

Who needs a pen when you can shoot lightning bolts out of your fingers?

After a sharp intake of breath, you closed the distance between the bedroom and the hallway lightswitch, flicking it on.

You’d been prepared for the worst, possibly some hulking monster with vampire fangs and blood dripping off its claws. Something like your boyfriend but darker, older. Hungrier.

But you were alone in the trailer. 

Your heart pumped ice cold blood through your veins as you made sure to check behind the kitchen island.

Nothing.  No one.  

You lifted your hands up in front of your face to find that there were snaps of electricity idling there, building power in case you needed it.  Your eyes darted to each of the windows, thinking one was open or shattered, but everything appeared to be just how you left it before bed.  

“Hello?” One more time for good measure.  “Eddie, I hope you aren’t fucking with me.”

Still nothing, and you knew in your heart that he wouldn’t fuck with you like that.  Tease you and be a brat in other ways, sure, but he’d never make you think there was the threat of an intruder, not after everything.

The closer you inched into the room, the more it became clear that there was writing on the piece of paper rolled into the feed of the typewriter.

Right underneath Eddie’s Akfj giahkasras va auiwyrg was:

Hello Dove

I k ow you ca ’t wrap your head arou d this right  ow

But Eddie is i  da ger

Nostrils flaring as you read it, you spun around, expecting to find someone standing right behind you.

Nothing. No one.  

But then

The keys were moving again, depressed by invisible fingers.  

The two of you are  o lo ger safe i  Hawki s

A memory clicked in your head about the Remington rifle with the M84 scope hidden in the wall in your closet that was loaded with silver bullets.  Brass knuckles, hunting knives, and plastic flexi cuffs, among others.  You had an arsenal of things for capture and killing.  

O ce you have read this you must bur  it

A d the replace the paper and await further instructio s

Slowly, you tugged the single piece of paper out of the feeder in one swipe and only hesitated for a moment before aggressively crumpling it up into a ball.

You picked up the yellow lighter near the phone and lit the edge on fire before tossing  it into the ceramic sink and watched it turn to charcoal ash.

You’d killed before. Many times. Humans and monsters alike.

…but why did you feel like you were just now realizing that fact?

And now someone was after Eddie.

You fed a fresh sheet of paper in, but after an hour, no new words appeared.

You had no idea how it worked, but wondered if maybe it could function as a two-way conversation.

Your palms were sweating as you poised your fingers over the keys.

“Who are you?”  You typed, each letter falling like a brick, almost afraid to know the answer.

Clickclickclick the keys snapped as soon as you finished.

I am you

…….

a other versio  of you

but also we are the same

……

When Eddie got home, you’d been watching from the window and leapt into his arms before he could step all the way through the door.

“Fuck, finally,” you said in a slightly whiny tone, unable to help yourself.  You’d been sitting there bouncing your knee and letting your anxious thoughts run wild.  You’d called the garage, but Gary had no idea where he went and you really wished Eddie would get a beeper.  

He returned the embrace, grinning sappily into the side of your neck.  “Good to know you didn’t get another boyfriend while I was at work.”

You wouldn’t let him go, it felt too good to be able to touch him, to know he was okay.

“Hey, hey,” he said softly, pushing you far enough away so that he could see your face and the water at your lash line.  His cold, dead heart ached at the sight.  “What’s this all about? Did something happen?”

You let him take his leather off, and then you told him about the Twilight Zone typewriter.

Paper fed into the rubber roller, you both sat staring at it in silence and prickling anticipation.  Eddie fed Bela saltine crackers and she ate them messily, snorting every so often as she sucked them down.  

“What if we talk to it first,” Eddie suggested, knowing that you had succeeded at that earlier.  

“I have so many questions, I wouldn’t know where to start.”

He sat forward on the sofa,  his hands in the shape of claws, hovering over the letters.  “May I?”

You wet your lips nervously and scooted closer to him.  “Sure, be my guest.”

He blew a long breath out of tight lips before wetting them again, eyes darting over the machine.

…..

This is Eddie. Is there a other versio  of me there? I’d like to ask him some questio s.

…..

He pulled his hands back as if in a form of surrender, staring at the blank white space.

Nothing happened for what seemed like an hour but was really only 2 minutes and then—-

Eddie is ’t here

……

Your heart rate spiked, and you were about to speak, but then the ghost typing continued.

You  eed to fi d Jareth

…..

Eddie is in da ger

You shouted at the piece of machinery then.  “Why is Eddie in danger?  From who?  Enough with the cryptic shit.”

Eddie took the liberty of typing a few words in for you and waited, gnawing at the inside of his cheek..

Another 30 seconds that felt like a million

The Fellowship of the Su 

Eddie fell back stiffly on the couch at that, staring blankly at the words.

“What is that last word? Sun? What the hell is the Fellowship of the Sun?”

Even as  you asked, you could tell by the look on his face that it was bad.

“They’re a group of religious extremists who think vampires are an abomination and don’t support the new laws that give us rights and let us be a part of society.  They don’t think we should exist at all, actually.”  He took a deep breath.  “They’re pretty dangerous babe.”

“Well I’m pretty dangerous too,” you mumbled, cracking your neck. You ran your hands up and down your face a few times exhaling a ragged groan.

“Wasn’t Jesus a vampire?” You mused more to yourself, but Eddie was quick to shrug and agree that he always thought so.  

Your fingers hit heavy as you punched out the words.

Tell me what I  eed to do.

For a moment there, you felt utterly foolish and out of body.  Talking to some other secret version of you about vampire stealing Jesus freaks on a broken typewriter, of all things?  But you had to focus, you didn’t have the luxury of doubting whoever was at the other end of the words.

Other You considered switching you to another timeline again, but too much of that could mess irrevocably with a person’s head.  This was the only timeline when your dad lived to be an elderly man, the only timeline when Hopper and Joyce could find their happiness, and those things mattered to you. Both Other You and Current You.

It was also one of the only timelines that you knew of where they eventually discovered a cure for vampirism.  That meant Eddie could have the choice to live out a mortal life with you, if he wanted that.  A family and daywalking together would all be an option again.

 eed to fi d Jareth

Other You repeated, and then: He will k ow what to do

You asked a few more questions over the next hour but did not receive any further communication.  Eddie sank back on the couch while you remained hunched forward and he rubbed comforting circles on your back with the palm of his hand.  

After staring at one spot on the paper for another few seconds, you settled back against him with a huff, curling one leg over his and wrapping an arm around his chest while your head nestled at his shoulder.

“Do you think we should leave Hawkins?” Your words were the first ones spoken.  “Just hit the road and get as far away as we can? Dye our hair, change our names, I don’t care.”

“If you go, I go,” he mumbled into your temple.  “But I think the You on the other side of the typewriter has a point. Jareth could hide us in the Upside Down for a while.  The fellowship would have a hard time getting to us there. They’re petrified of that place.”

You closed your eyes.  “Why would they want to hurt you?”

He grabbed the crook of your knee to pull your leg closer.  “Because they hate vampires, baby.  They want us all to go Back in the Coffin, as they say.”

“If you go, I go,” you twisted closer, nuzzling the side of his throat.

“Speaking of going,” he groaned, not wanting to face reality.  “I need to get underground.  The sun will be up in like, ten minutes.”

Ugh, you hated being apart from him for such a long period during the day, especially now that he might be a target.  But at least you could put the couch over the door in the floor and always know he was safe as long as you or Bela were around.  

He took a few sips of plasma from your wrist while your mouth was on his cock.  It was a risk so close to sunrise, but you rolled your tongue around his shaft and flicked it at the tip in a way that had him shivering and moaning your name while you swallowed his cum after only a few minutes.

Breathless, he threw his head back.  “Holy shit jesus christ I fucking love you.”

You hopped to your feet, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.  “Okay now we need to get you to bed.  Quick quick.”

“That’s okay,” he sighed, unmoving.  “I’ll just perish right here.”

“Not on my watch,” you giggled, yanking him up while he fumbled to put his dick back into his jeans.

When he was at the bottom of the hidey hole, you got on your knees at the entrance and held the door, preparing to close it.  “I’m not going to work today, so I’ll be here.  Shout if you need me.”

“I will,” his eyes seemed to sparkle while he stared up at you, admiring. “I fucking love you.”

“Ditto,” the word put a catch in your throat.  Why did it feel like you were saying goodbye to him?

When the darkness finally took him and he sank back to where the mattress was, you shut the carpeted door and then put your hand on it, as if you could still feel his cool flesh through it.

Standing with a weary breath, you moved the couch and thought about the phone calls you needed to make.  Hopper, Argyle, and the rest of the vampires and their allies that you were friends with.  If Eddie was in danger, perhaps they all were.  

You had to call Vein on Main to find out where Jareth was, and they patched you through to Sacrament.  

When he picked up on the second ring, he said hello to you before you even said who was calling.  Caller ID perhaps?  You didn’t have time to wonder.

“I need your help. I think Eddie might be in danger,” you spoke quickly, bursting with urgency.

At the other end, Jareth was as calm as ever.  “And this should concern me, why?”

“Does the Fellowship of the Sun ring a bell?”

You could hear the ancient vampire go ridgid.  His voice changed, lowering to almost a whisper.  “How do you know about them?”

“It’s a long story,” to say the least.  “Someone told me I could trust you with this.  That you could help us.”

He was so quiet, you wondered if he’d disconnected, but then it sounded like he walked into another room and closed the door.  You could no longer hear the rapid techno beat of club music in the background.  

“What if getting rid of Eddie was all part of my plan?” He smirked into the phone.  “Then I could have you all to myself.”

“Please, Jareth. We don’t have time for this.”

He cleared his throat.  “I did hear that the Fellowship were closing in on Hawkins, but they are no match for—”

“I don’t think we should underestimate them,” you said softly.  “Could we meet up later tonight? After sunset? There is something I need to discuss with you, but not over the phone.”

You wondered if you should tell him about the magical typewriter and the version of you from a parallel life. 

What if there was a chance he already knew about it?

“Come after your shift, around 3,” he said.  “I’ll ask Maxine not to hassle you at the door, but no promises.”

After the phone call, you turned on the news to see the female President of the Vampire Coalition arguing with a man who was a pastor from the Fellowship of the Sun.

“You vermin don’t belong here in our streets indoctrinating our children with your bloodlust and fornicaiton!” The balding pastor barked.  “And we’re going to shine god's light on you and send you back to the hell you came from.”

Sophie Ann Bledsoe, the president of the coalition, had sea blue eyes, a brunette bob of hair, and muted wine lips.  She looked like a soccer mom, not a member of the dangerous undead.

“If you’d give me a chance to speak,” she said calmly, watching Pastor Daniels grow red in the face. “I will assure you that we are peaceful, productive members of society—-”

“I won’t listen to this devil!” The pastor turned away, toward the camera, and then a moderator intervened with a few diplomatic words before the broadcast went to a commercial.  

You could see rage in that pastor’s eyes: he wanted to wipe vampires off the planet.

But then, the television screen flickered to static and back again.

You swore you saw an image, nothing but an outline, but familiar all the same. 

Had there been a voice? Someone whispering your name over the political news broadcast?

You waited, but the flicker never happened again.  

Before you bent to click off the set, your head did a slow turn to glance over your shoulder at the typewriter squatting like doom on the coffee table.  

Maybe it wasn’t doom, maybe it was hope, and you considered that while the winter sun broke through the trees, blanketed by clouds.  

The next place your eyes landed was the hatch in the floor that had yet to be covered up by the wagon wheel sofa.  You had a few things to get done that day, but when the sun finally set, you knew you’d be kneeling there, waiting for Eddie to take your hand and be your partner in crime for the evening.

There was something like a memory itching at your brain, but a distant one that belonged to someone else, like an echo in a dark hallway.

A memory of you and Eddie in your trailer, but it was a dark, royal blue, raining with strange particles that looked like snow but danced on the air like fluff from a dandelion.  The trees and the grass were dead, and the sky was void of stars, like a bleak landscape painted from a nightmare. The ground split open in places like jagged knife wounds that never healed; they reminded you of your scars. 

The Upside Down.

Bela was perched on your shoulder in the vision, and Eddie had a rifle strapped to his back.  You needed food and supplies, but you didn’t want him to go alone.  The three of you had survived this long, and so together you would stay.  You knew the typewriter was hidden safely under the floorboards and you’d come back for it later.  

Eddie reached for your hand in the vision and you gave it, mirroring the look of adoration on his face.  The two of you were very much in love, but around you there was a sense of horror in the air, edged with a feral determination to survive.

Survive what, exactly?

But then you blinked and the sensory experience was gone.

There was the heavy thud of Bela landing on the roof above you, followed by fumbled rustling and a tiny growl of sorts that made you smile.  

You let her in and went over to make some tea, warmed by a sudden calm that everything would be okay and no harm would come to the people you loved.

You’d make sure of it.

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Two

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.4K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

It came as no surprise that Jack didn't recognise his big sister. It was heart breaking, sure, and Toto wanted to do something about it.

"Jack really likes that cafe in town," he said as he sat on the end of his daughters bed. She had spent the previous evening rearranging her desk to better allow her to get on with work. "You could take him and get some work done at the same time," he suggested.

She gave a small nod. "Yeah, if Susie is okay with me taking him," she said.

"It was Susie's idea."

Before she knew it she was out of the house, holding Jack's hand with her laptop bag over her shoulder. She waved at her dad as she started down the driveway, heading further into the town.

That was until she collided with a firm chest. She let go of Jack to not drag him with her, as strong arms wrapped around her keeping her up. "You okay the- Y/N?"

She looked into the strangers lovely eyes, taking a moment before she recognised him. "Lando? Lando Norris?"

He once again wrapped his arms around her, this time in a friendly manner. But she pushed away from him, got a better look at him and felt his chest. Lando went slightly red at that, but he didn't pull away. "You've really grown," she said with a grin, once again reaching for Jack's hand.

"So have you, uhh..." he began. She didn't know that he had been watching over her from the moment she arrived, that he had orchestrated this meeting from the moment she arrived. But, now that he was here, he didn't know what to say.

"So, uh, Jack and I are heading to Renee's Cafe. Do you wanna come with?"

Renee's cafe. That was on the other side of town. The vampire side of town. Even if he wanted to, Lando couldn't go, not without breaking a multitude of laws. He shook his head. "I can't, but we could exchange phone numbers? That way we could plan to meet," he said.

"Love it," she called as she pulled her phone from her bag. She passed it over to Lando, letting him punch in his number before they went their separate ways.

Well, she thought they went their separate ways. She and Jack headed to the cafe, Lando retreated back down the road. He kept turning around though, waiting until she and Jack were out of sight. As soon as they were out of sight, he dove into the woods and followed her scent until he got to the vampire side of town.

There he paced, thick paws crushing the twigs on his path.

Holding Jack's hand, she walked him into the cafe. They sat at the very back, she left Jack there with her bag while she got them both something to eat and drink.

As soon as it had been ordered she sat back down opposite her half brother. Jack looked around the cafe, but he wouldn't look at her. She sucked in a breath and leaned back in her chair. "You have no idea who I am," she said, and Jack shook his head. "That's okay. I haven't been around very much. Their drinks were placed in front of them, along with pastries.

She tried to ask Jack as many questions as she could, but he wasn't very willing to answer. It was okay, though. She understood. She was nothing more than a stranger to him at that point.

"Wanna head home?" She asked him once they'd finished eating.

Jack nodded his head. He hopped out of his chair as she grabbed her bag and took him out of the cafe. "What're you gonna do when we get home?" She asked as she led him out of the cafe.

Jack shrugged his shoulders.

"Has dad taught you any German yet?"

He nodded his head. "Polish, too," he said and she gave him a small smile.

But she was too concentrated on her little brother. She wasn't looking where she was going as they wandered through the parking lot and smacked right into something.

Just like she had with Lando, she let go of Jack's hand as a pair of strong arms wrapped around her, holding her up. This time, when she looked up at the owner of the arms, she didn't recognise him.

His skin was pale and a few moles were dotted around on his face. His eyes were a lovely shade of brown and his hair fell over his forehead, parted down the middle. He was gorgeous, that was undeniable.

“I'm so sorry about that,” he said in an Australian accent, a polite smile on his face as he released his hold on her, his fingertips brushing against the exposed skin of her arm. He was cold to the touch.

She shook her head and readjusted her bag on her shoulder. “No, no,” she began. “It was my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going.”

The kind stranger kept staring at her. “Are you new in town? I haven't seen you before,” she said.

“Uh, yeah. Sort of,” she answered. “I'm here visiting my dad.”

Suddenly Jack was in front of her, waving up at the pale stranger. “Hi, Oscar,” he said.

Oscar. She looked at his face as the name played in her head. It suited him. He certainly looked like an Oscar. “Hey Jack,” he said as he mussed up his hair. “Who're you with today?”

“This is my sister,” he answered.

Oscar snapped his eyes towards her. “I didn't know Toto and Susie had a daughter,” he said.

“That's because they don't,” she answered, somewhat lightheartedly. “Toto is my dad, yeah, but Susie is my stepmother. I'm visiting for a few weeks.” She held her hand towards him. “I'm Y/N.”

He took her hand, skin so cold against her own it sent a shiver down her spine. “Oscar. It's nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she replied, finally letting go of his hand. She placed her hands on Jack's shoulders. “Well I’m gonna get this guy home. It really was nice to meet you, Oscar.”

He waved as she walked away, unable to look away from her. She had smelled so sweet, the fragrance overtaking Oscars senses. That was how he had bumped into her, because of her scent and the sound of her heart thumping in her chest. Desperately he wanted to chase after her, but he hung back, restraining himself.

Hie smell, the smell of vampire clung to her as she walked back to the werewolf side of town. Lando couldn't help but growl as the smells mixed together. He knew exactly which vampire she had come into contact with, as well.

Oscar. He was the vampire who loved to provoke Lando. He was the one who nearly had Lando breaking the treaty the vampires and the werewolves had created all those hundreds of years ago.

Oscar had touched his girl. And he was pissed about it.

Lando watched from the bushes as she and Jack entered the house. As soon as they were inside he turned away and ran back to his pack. He skillfully moved around the trees at the high speeds he was travelling to get back to them.

When he got there Daniel and Sergio were outside, wresting. It wasn't an uncommon sight to see two members of the back trying to push one another out of the circle. “DR,” Lando called and the two of them split apart.

Sweaty and out of breath, his tattoos on show, Daniel approached his much younger pack mate. He was the friendliest in the pack and had accidentally become friends with one of the vampires, Max.

“Talk to your boy for me,” he said, biting back a growl. “Tell him to tell the other blood suckers to stay away from the Wolff family.”

Daniel watched him for a minute. Lando was the youngest of all of them. He had little control over his emotions and Daniel could tell he was ready to burst. “Shirt off, jump in the ring with us,” he said,gesturing back to Checo.

Sucking in a breath, Lando did just that.

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[forestshadow-wolf]

Cw: mention of suicide (not graphic), (vague) mentions of torture

Vamp!ghost in a pure silver muzzle so he can't prey on anyone.

He got turned and muzzled by human!Roba because the torture got so bad that he killed himself, and Roba couldn't have that, so he had him bit. By vernon.

The sadistic bastard was stoked to be able to keep Ghost around a little longer as his "play thing"

The muzzle, little more than a cage for his face, was five horizontal bars with one bisecting the center vertically. At the base of the mask where it sat on his mandable was a hinge, so it could expand and contract because Roba still wanted him able to talk and scream, like the sick fuck he is.

It burned and bubbled and hissed as it seared onto his face, melting the skin so it would cling to the metal when it "healed"

With Ghost's newfound immortality Roba was able to have so much more "fun" with him. He kept him for years, cutting him open whenever he felt like it, just "to see what's going on in there". Branding him with silver to "see what it does" (like he didn't already fucking know). Starving him for months on end. And the muzzle never once came off. When he did get it was through a straw that he was graciously given a single pint of blood.

Then he got bored. And he threw him away. And still the muzzle wasn't removed.

No not thrown away. Buried. In a load of shit. In the desert. One last experiment. To see what Ghost could withstand. He was doomed to burn to death, and even then it was to starve for eternity, or drink through a straw for the rest of his life. He sure as hell wouldn't be getting the muzzle off himself.

One good thing he learned through all this. How far he could break before he truely broke.

Roba locked him in Vernon's reinforced casket, and threw away the key. It took two days of nonstop beating at the wood before he got out, even with the help of the deceased vampire's jaw.

It took 3 days of hiding, and 4 nights of running at inhuman speeds to find the nearest army base.

He also found out that to say he was "starved" wasn't exactly accurate, but there was no other way to describe it. How else you do describe a lack of a need to eat, and yet feeling your body weaken just the same. How else do you explain the feeling of his body using up the blood in him. The way his heart never beats so he needs new blood to replace what has been absorbed or turned into waste, later to be released as venom. What word do you use to describe that othern than "starved", but it's an inhuman kind of starvation, so completely NOT human.

When price found him he was sucking his fifth stolen blood bag dry. He truely was "starved" after so long of not feeding.

The man said he was putting together a task force with the help and authority of a CIA agent. The man, Captain Price introduced him to a dryad, a nature spirit.

It's unusual for a spirits and sprites, especially ones so close to nature, to be in such a violent line of work. But here he was, nonetheless.

Price himself was a normal human, it's the only way the force was allowed to come into fruition.

Ghost was taken to a medic, to see if they could remove the constant burning silver from his face. But it was no use, the doctors said their tools were too soft to ceable to cut into his skin to remove the muzzle. And so there was nothing they could do, short of ripping the thing off, which would only cause more damage, and they didn't have the manpower to do so anyway.

So he stayed in the muzzle, donned a mask to avoid sun exposure, and price made sure to keep a constant stock of blood packs for him, even if sometimes he was reduced to dumping dehydrated pigs' blood into a glass of water, price made sure he was never "hungry" again.

Then price found soap. A natural born werewolf, he said. And he was all rambunctious and happy-go-lucky energy, or that's what it seemed like on the outside. Then Ghost learned that he was a sniper and demolitions specialist, with a wicked memory, and a background intense anti-interrogation training, and he has to wonder how much is for show.

It's only after they defeat hassan that soap asks about it. The muzzle. He knows he saw it when he removed him mask in Las Almas, but he said nothing about it, not did Ghost offer anything.

Soap says he thinks he can get the muzzle off, but they'll need to take leave, head back to his home. Ghost isn't sure how he likes the sound of that. He does want the burning silver off, but he's pretty sure he's heard that wolves and blood suckers weren't exactly friends. And while he's already dead, he can still be killed, and he definitely can't survive an entire pack of wolves (sans one)

Soap says it'll be fine, he'll vouch and/or protect(?) Him. Price encourages him to go, says he can finally get the stupid cage off. And gaz is laughing his ass off at his predicament, and just generally being unhelpful.

A phone call home to Mama Mactavish, explaining the situation had Ghost reluctantly agreeing to go, if only to appeasethe frantic woman. Soap requested 3 months medical leave for both of them, and price easily signed off on it, practically pushing them out the door.

Soap's home was nice, a fair bit or farmland with a large home that just seemed to radiate comfort.

Mama Mactavish was first to meet them at the door with a fresh batch of homemade danishes, she pulled them both into a bone crushing hug and ushered them inside. She didn't even flinch at the sight of the muzzle or the horribly "scarred" skin underneath or his fangs.

Simon wasn't so sure what to think about that, he'd never had this kind of kindness before. He didn't hate it. Everyone else was almost as friendly, and he couldn't tell if it was a pack of anomalies, or if the rumors were false. They even had fresh lambs' blood for him, warmed to perfection.

He and Johnny were given a day to rest and settle in, then they were being woken at the crack of dawn, to start collecting herbs and begin preparations. Mama explained that it was a family secret, so she swore him to secrecy.

He supposed it only made sense for a family of werewolves to know how to treat silver burns.

She put Johnny to work making so sort of... salve (us that what you call it? He wasn't sure), then mama had donned a pair of gloves and had him lay down with his head in her lap, she started massaging the salve into his skin around the muzzle.

It was slow work, and took hours to make even a small bit of progress, but progress it was. As more and more of the silver lifted, Johnny helped slide gauze underneath to prevent it from burning back on.

It took all day and most of the night to finally be able to lift the muzzle off, but Mama never once complained.

Simon thanked her profusely, and would be forever indebted to her, but she just waived him off.

A week later the wounds were still trying to heal over, and he knew by the end of their leave there would be little more than a faint scar over near-perfect skin.

There was one night that Johnny had joined him sitting out on the porch. One unable to sleep, and one who would never sleep again.

"Why did you help me?" It'd been running through his head since they arrived. "You hardly knew me."

"I know you enough." Johnny chuckled, knocking their shoulders together.

"But why?" He still didn't understand.

"You know what it's like to have the words 'echoic memory' on your file? I do. It's why I took all that extra training, put it to use a few times too. But nothing could have prepared me for being force-fed silver." Johnny shivered with a faraway look in his eyes. "The pain lasted months. I couldn't be active for nine months. I can only imagine what it must've been like to live with that on your face for years."

"Thank you."

Johnny nodded.

They spent the rest of the night there on the porch, at some point Johnny fell asleep on Simon, and Mama found them early in the morning.

[rs-hawk]

more bestie’s werewolf brother? Maybe the alt one but it’s less fluff this time and he decides he also wants a baby with you?

We’ll call Alt Bestie’s Werewolf Brother Ahiga so we can keep Liwanu and him separate. So basically the difference is with Ahiga, you had a baby with someone else and he came back into your life, not caring and wanting to be there for you and your baby. With Liwanu, he was your first and he’s still a little mean to you.

Ahiga was obsessed with your baby. Sure, it’s sweet but like, come on. The two of you aren't even dating. He hasn't even asked you out on a date. He just sort of half moved into your parents' house, camping out in the living room so if the baby woke up at any time, he could rush in and try his best to help.

You have to constantly tell him to go home. He always whines, putting his ears back and his tail dropping. It tugs at your heart strings, but you don't understand why he's even here. He hasn't brought up you two being together, or what he meant when he agreed to stay. Plus, you don't have time to go out, even though your parents are suddenly very excited to have Ahiga around all the time when they never liked him when you were kids, and your baby is only a few months old. You don't want to be gone from her for too long. Would he even be okay with a relationship like that?

One day, you decide to bite the bullet and just talk to him. "Why are you here?"

He's sitting on the floor of the nursery, cradling your baby in his arms as he feeds her. "I'm feeding her. Do you want me to do it in the kitchen?" he asks confused, looking up at you, though he doesn't stop cradling her to his chest.

"No, that's not what I meant," you say as you run your fingers through your hair. "Aggy, you said you'd stay, and I'm happy with that, but...," you trailed off, now breaking eye contact. "You haven't said anything else."

He burps the baby before setting her back in the bassinet. Neither of you say anything for several minutes before he takes your hands in his. "I wanted to wait until you were ready. I want to stay. I'm going to stay as long as you want me to. I just didn't want to push you."

You shrug, now feeling a little silly. Of course he intended on staying and being with you. Look at everything he was doing for the both of you. "It's just, you hadn't said anything, so I guess I was just feeling a little insecure. Plus, with the way I look now, I just," you shrug again, drawing your hands away from his.

He grabs you rougher than you're used to, and suddenly his lips are on yours. He kisses you deeply, almost harshly. Like the only way for him to live is to get his tongue down your throat. You're surprised, but you kiss him back enthusiastically. While the kiss is brief, when you two split apart, his eyes are hungry. You're panting.

"You have never looked more gorgeous than you do right now. You're the happiest I've ever seen you, and it radiates off of you," he murmurs, cupping your face with his large hands. "I want you more than I've ever wanted anything."

Your face flushes as you peek past him at the baby. Between the rocking and the bottle, she's fast asleep. At least for now. "You know, I was cleared at my last visit," you say quietly, feeling a little shy. "If you're careful, maybe we could, you know."

His claws extend slightly, pressing against your cheek. "Don't tease me." His voice is hoarse like he can barely croak out the words.

"I'm not, if you're gentle with me," you say with slightly more confidence.

He nods hard, scooping you up bridal style. You laugh as he rushes you to your room, basically dumping you on the bed. He babbles out how much he loves you, how he's always loved you, how this is the best thing that's ever happened to him. You can't even get a word in to tell him how you've always felt about him because he's peppering you in kisses, undressing you with touches more tender than you ever imagined he could manage.

He breaks the kiss again to softly kiss down your body with an agonizingly slow pace. You sigh with pleasure, his touch so gentle that it relaxes your body. When he gets between your legs, his licks start off firm but slow, testing how you react. You moan his name, arching your hips up to meet his lips. He holds your hips down, easing his tongue inside of you.

At first he's taking his time with you. Relishing the taste of you as he stretches you with his tongue. You're beginning to become an overstimulated mess as he slowly draws orgasm after orgasm out of you. Your fingers are tangled in his fur as you try to pry him away from you, now your turn to babble how good he feels but you need him. How much you love him and how badly you want to feel him.

"Are you sure?" his voice comes out almost as a growl as he lets you pull him away from you.

You nod hard. "Yes, yes, yes," you insist, bucking your hips slightly to punchiate your point.

He readjusts, slowly pressing himself inside of you. With every inch you're moaning, begging him for more. He hushes you with kisses. By telling you how good you are for how well you're taking him.

"Fuck," you groan as he finally bottoms out inside of you. "S'full."

"You feel so good, my love. So warm and wet for me," he mutters, licking along your neck, his teeth grazing against your delicate skin.

You shiver, knowing that for wolves, the marking spot is so sensitive. Is that what he wants? You hold his head to your neck, leaning it more to the side to give him more access. For a moment, he just keeps up his slow and steady thrusting, rhythmically pumping in and out of your messy cunt. Then, as if realizing what you're doing, he growls against your skin.

"Mine," his low voice vibrates your skin. "Mine. My mate. Mine."

He's still careful of you, but the thrusts are a bit harder. Deeper. His knot now pressed firmly against your entrance with each thrust in. All you can really do is whine and moan, rolling your hips as much as you can to meet him. As he nears his finish, his claws knead the mattress beside your head, his teeth gently nipping at your neck.

"I want to breed you. Please, please," he groans in such a needy voice that you almost cum around his cock right then. "My mate. Breed please."

You can't even answer before his cock slams inside of you, almost knocking the air out of you as his knot locks you in place together. He's panting and kissing every inch of you he can manage, his hot cum pumping deep into your obviously fertile womb.