#red velvet werewolf au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

httpsserene · 1 year

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𝐡𝐭𝐭𝐩𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐟𝟏 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥

𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟐 : 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐣𝐫 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 | 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞/𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 & 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫/𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. smut. wolf shifter au. werewolves. no abo dynamics. outdoor sex. scent kink. vaginal sex. fingering. possessive behavior. predator/prey kink. tummy bulge. breeding kink. knotting (but not really). mention of heat/rut cycles. no protection. carlos’ filthy mouth. author may have cooked a little too hard 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 6k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: carlos sainz jr x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: peek-a-boo • red velvet

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: fair warning this is the most foul thing i’ve written ever. like, i thought the first upload was unsettling, but this is terrifying in comparison. i think i’m getting better tho, low key. no, this was not an excuse to write a breeding kink 😒. this was an excuse to spread my personal feeling that i think carlos sainz jr is a massive freak, and i will take no criticism on that 😩. but i do apologize for his foul ass mouth at the end. imma try and get these out quicker because i realized that if i’m releasing one fic every week, i will not be finishing this b4 the end of the month. there unfortunately will be no part two to this, it’s a standalone, i got so many things to write now, im sorry :( i hope you all enjoy it (i did an embarrassing amount of research for this aka twilight wiki), and thank you for all the support !!!

want to be added to my f1 kinktober taglist? or my general taglist? send me an ask!

thank you to my beta readers @saintslewis and @my-ylenia ! i appreciate y'alls quick feedback :)

cross-posted on my ao3, httpsss

have the link to my general masterlist, and my f1 kinktober masterlist ! and send me a private message if you'd like to be added to the beta reader waitlist for this special!

carlos is not a werewolf. carlos is a born wolf; he comes from a long familial line of shifters. while he and his wolf share a brain, carlos is in control one-hundred percent of the time. he can shift into a wolf at will and maintains awareness as the wolf. however, during the full moon, it’s extremely difficult for shifters to resist the call and refrain from transforming. werewolves, on the other hand, are created by a curse or from being bitten. they are forced to change into a beast every full moon, thirsting for blood and carnage. their humanity isn’t present in the half-wolf/half-human form; being a werewolf is like a parasitic disease. carlos’ family has found their calling in bringing a sense of order to the wild, and during full moons, their purpose is to contain and redirect the beastly werewolves from harming humans.

shifters are rare, and carlos prefers it that way (he doesn’t ever want to find out what tension multiple shifters on the grid could cause). his nature doesn’t give him any unfair advantages in an f1 car, sure, his reaction time may be a little quicker, and he heals faster–but, nothing that would classify as “cheating.” if he did have any extreme advantages, maybe he’d end max’s world champion streak, but that is not the case; anything about his nature still couldn’t make up ferrari’s shortcomings.

the only downside to being a shifter is how they’re mistaken for werewolves (even though they are obviously two completely different beings). the world doesn’t know about the shifter population at large, it’s mainly an “if you know you know” society, and werewolves are known to the masses with how many slaughters they’ve been caught doing from the beginning of time. which is massively unfortunate for carlos. if he were to be revealed as a wolf shifter, he’d probably lose everything he knows–formula one, his privacy, his family, you–and he would probably be scheduled for a public execution if those were still in place. he’s only trusted a small circle of people within formula one with the secret of his wolf; lando, charles, fernando, jon and rupert, and vasseur. it’s made his life easier having people that are aware of his true nature, so he can shift comfortably during race weekends if needed, when you are not able to join him.

regardless of how the world views carlos’ supernatural state, you genuinely don’t understand how people could be terrified of him. carlos is ‘the dream man’™, and you’re not accepting any critiques on that matter. he’s a personal-sized space heater, so you don’t have to worry about being cold at night–and he doesn’t even complain when you stick your icicle-like toes and fingers on him. he cleans without being told to, he’s an excellent home chef, he takes you golfing with him and even lets you caddy for him, he’s protective but in a respectful manner, and he even partial shifts around you so you can play with his ears and give him a good little scratch.

the only downside you could point out about carlos, is that he takes his wolf form a little too seriously.

carlos was raised to train his inner wolf into a controlled, unfazed, unshaken, apex-predator being. the wolf has one purpose and it’s to guard his territory, the people he loves, and to prevent any werewolf murder sprees. but, you wish he’d allow himself to relax, and have a little more fun in his wolf form.

you’ve started training him, funnily enough, to allow his wolf to be off the clock sometimes. subconsciously, in the comfort of the spanish villa you two call home, he’s started to allow his ears to pop out whenever he’s relaxed enough. the spaced out and confused faces and noises he makes, with his head and ears flicking and tilting to match, invokes an unhealthy sense of cute-aggression from you. sometimes, you manage to persuade him enough to shift to his full wolf form, and that’s where you find the most difficulty of calming his behavior.

he’ll go around sniffing and rubbing his body along all of the walls and corners of the house to spread his claim, and even refuses to nap or sleep with you while he is shifted. he’d sit in the doorway of the room you were in and remain in an alert state to protect you from whatever dangers that may appear, even though he’s already sure none are present. there was one time you were able to convince him to lay with you under the guise of you being cold; he allowed himself to curl around you and rest his snout on your chest, but the way his ears remained cocked let you know that he was wide awake even though his eyes were shut.

he’s thoroughly unamused whenever you try and get him to play with dog toys. it doesn’t matter if it squeaks, crinkles, or smells–he wants nothing to do with them. he can’t say no to an old-fashioned game of fetch, though. whenever you grab a stick from outside, you hear his thundering paws running towards you before skidding to a rapid stop, his haunches firmly touching the ground while his front paws anxiously tip tap in front of him, and his whole body shakes with anticipation for your throw. and from there you started to get him to appreciate tennis balls and frisbees in fetch games. even though his massive jaw and teeth have you ordering replacements way too often.

and the thought of his massive ears, eyes, hands, and teeth—led you to your halloween costume idea.

little red riding hood.

it makes the most perfect amount of sense. carlos can be the big bad wolf to your red riding hood! except he refused, stating that it would be shameful to use his wolf in such a manner. of course, you're disappointed at his refusal, but you respect his boundaries at the end of the day. so, you were just going to have piñon (your dog) be your big bad wolf. and then, that fell through as well.

piñon was staying over at carlos’ parents house a few days before halloween, and ended up losing a battle to a mouse that he tried to catch through a fence. the fence scratched him a little deeply on his tummy and he ended up getting stitches and a cone of shame. while his stitches are in, he’s staying with reyes and carlos sr.–and, you’re back to square one; you’re ‘big bad wolf’-less-ness.

you don’t attempt to try and convince carlos to join you again, you just decide to keep your original costume and sit out on the porch handing out candy to the trick-or-treaters, missing the other half to your costume. it’s very simple attire, just the red-hooded cloak and a picnic basket full of candy. carlos peeks from the front window’s curtains and watches you smile sweetly at all the children and compliment them on their costumes. he hears you fein terror when kids dressed as werewolves ask for candy, he hears you fawn over the cutest kids and their costumes, and he hears your happiness falter when anyone asks where your ‘big bad wolf’ is.

you’re in the middle of explaining how piñon wasn’t feeling well to a little girl, and you hear a muffled bark. your head perks up in question, thinking you just imagined it, but then you hear scratches on the door. confused, you go to open the door and carlos comes slinking out to join you on the porch.

his wolf is massive, when standing on four paws his head nearly reaches your chest, his coat is a silky coloration of a brown so dark it appears black, but in direct sunlight it radiates warmth. his paws are larger than your face and the claws he’s got on them are big enough to match. the little girl shrieks and hides behind her dad’s legs, and the dad backs them up off the porch frantically.

“no, no, no,” you reassure them, and carlos tries to shrink his body behind your legs, whining lowly, “he’s friendly! i promise he’s a sweetheart, he’s actually pretty shy!” carlos skimpers behind you, quickly managing to shove himself under the outdoor couch, only allowing his head to peek out from underneath. the dad doesn’t quite believe you, and just apologizes and just ushers his daughter to the next house.

you sigh, and plop down a little forcefully on the couch. you hear carlos crawl from underneath the seat, and rise to a sitting position at your side, resting his snout on your lap. you look down and purse your lips at his wide, apologetic brown wolf eyes and raise your hand to give him a few pets. you question softly, “are you going to join me for the whole night?”

carlos blinks at you once. an eager grin spreads across your lips, “yay! aren’t you just such a good boy,” you tease sarcastically. carlos huffs, the force of his exhale swooshing your cloak, before he turns his back to you in dismissal. you laugh at him, and the next group of kids run up yelling for candy, and carlos tries to appear as small as he can so he doesn’t scare these ones away.

after the initial scare carlos caused, everyone seems fascinated at your “wolf-dog,” and how well mannered and amicable he is. carlos lets all the kids who are brave enough pet him, not snapping once even if they accidentally tug at his tail or ears, and sits incredibly still so he has no chance of accidentally crushing them. several dads even pause to give him a sturdy little dad-pat on his side, and inform you of how “that’s a good guard dog you got there, he takes a pat like no problem.” you even impress a few of the moms with how well trained you have him, and how he listens to all of your commands and can do many tricks (so far, the most impressive trick is having him harmonize to your voice with a howl). carlos preens silently next to you whenever little kids can’t help themselves from telling you how pretty you are (his tail thumping on the floor the only giveaway), and seethes when overzealous men and women try and hit on you (growls rumbling out of his chest). you brush off their advances and charmingly tell them, “i don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate me cheating on him…especially in front of his dog,” with a disguised smirk. overall, carlos does so well cosplaying as your big bad wolf, that you decide to give him the present you planned all along.

after the halloween celebrations die down, you and carlos return inside, and you lead the way up to the bedroom as he trots behind you. carlos shifts back into his naked human form, and you giggle and pull him into a hug.

“thank you, my love! everyone loved you tonight–you know you didn’t have to join me outside, right? i didn’t want you to feel pressured to do something you were–” carlos cuts you off with a chaste kiss to the cheek and dismisses your worry, “mi luna, i wouldn’t have gone out there if i did not want to, sí? i am happy i could make the night more fun for you, by playing your “big bad wolf.’”

you pull away with a small ‘aha!’ of remembrance and rush into the en-suite bathroom, closing the door behind you. carlos stares at the space you were just occupying and shrugs, figuring you have to pee really badly–considering you were sitting on the porch the whole night without a break– and that you’re probably changing out of the costume, before turning to the closet and pulling on clothes.

he hears the toilet flush, and then the water runs for a minute too long–almost like you’re covering up any noises carlos may hear with his enhanced hearing, but he doesn’t think that you’d have anything to hide from him, anyways. you fling the door open excitedly, still in your riding hood, and pull carlos away from the closet and start dragging him downstairs.

“ay–” carlos objects, “i don’t have a shirt on yet, mi amor! where are you rushing too?”

you don’t respond verbally, only glancing back at him with a cheeky smirk, and continue to lead him to the backyard. you drop carlos hand once you’ve stepped outside, shutting the sliding glass door behind you two. walking back to him, you stand in front of him–pausing as you stare into the warm depth of his brown eyes, before you take one step backwards. carlos automatically goes to parrot your movement, attempting to take one step towards you to eliminate the space, but you ‘aht-aht’ at him disapprovingly causing him to freeze. you press your hand against his chest near his clavicle and guide him to his original position. patting once with intention, you order, “stay.”

carlos’ eyes widen in shock, but he doesn’t say anything. he allows you to back away from him, twitching towards you when your bare feet slip off the paved patio onto the grass. you come to a stop when you’re halfway into the yard.

carlos calls out to you, confused, “amor? what’s this, i do not want to play fetch right now–”

“we’re not going to play fetch carlos,” you start, “we’re going to play a new game called chase.” carlos does his adorable head tilt at you, continuing to question your actions, “qué? i don’t know the game you are talking about, mi luna–wh-what-qué haces (what are you doing)?”

you unbutton the collar of the cloak, and spread the front open, from where you wrapped it tightly around your body, and reveal a matching set of the scantiest, laciest, and most mouthwatering red bra and panties. carlos is stunned to silence, mouth dropping open as his eyes fall to your exposed body. the way your smooth melanated skin is complimented by the rosso corsa-colored lingerie, the way you’re holding open the cloak to allow him to get his fill of your body, the way your hips seductively rock from one side to the other, the way the smell of your arousal begins to become apparent to his sensitive nose–before you abruptly wrap the cloak shut, tying the waistband tightly and shattering the moment.

“we are going to play a game called ‘chase’, carlito. where i run into the woods behind us, and you…chase me.”

carlos’ entranced state is shaken by his protective instincts, “qué? no, no! absolutely not. the woods are dangerous, mi amor–”

“carlosss,” you whine, “you patrol the woods every other week! you know there’s nothing that could hurt me out here, because you’ve already gotten rid of it. you’re going to give chase and you’re going to like it!”

carlos shifts anxiously, not fully persuaded, so you decide to not give him a choice, “ten minutes, love. after that, come catch me.” you turn and run into the densely packed woods, ignoring carlos’ exclamation for you to stop. he doesn’t suddenly appear and stop your disappearance into the forest, so that’s how you know the game is on.

your chest is already heaving from adrenaline and excitement as you run through the forest, ducking under branches and hopping over rocks and fallen tree limbs. you pant and the nerves start to set in, not out of fear of what’s in the forest, but fear of giving carlos an easy chase. you stop suddenly and take a sharp turn, running for a minute that way before you circle back and run at a slight diagonal in the opposite direction, overlaying your scent to try and give some added time to your pursuit. running deeper into the woods, it begins to get darker, the only light source are the scraps of moonlight that manage to find a pocket to slip through. your eyes adjust to the reduced light level, pupils blown wide not only in necessity but also arousal, and you come to a halt again. you quickly slip off your red panties and hang them on the nearest branch, hoping that the wetness that’s already seeped into them distracts him from your true location.

you start to traverse your way through an uphill part of the forest, exhaustion finally beginning to become apparent after that first rush of adrenaline–but then, a familiar howl cuts through the air; your time is up, and carlos is loose in the forest, hunting after you. reinvigorated, you continue running deeper and deeper into the trees, changing directions multiple times losing track of exactly where you’re going.

the wolf fucking losing it. you–his luna, his mate–are out in the forest he protects—his territory—inciting him into a relieving game of chase, allowing him to be just as uncontrolled as he wants in his pursuit of you. he’s quick to catch on your trail, seeing the way you’re rushed heavy steps in the start leaves an easy path for him to follow. and then, he notices you employed different tactics to delay him. he catches himself running in circles you intentionally plotted, and notices how your scent and foot-trail overlaps multiple times. and then, he can tell you switched from running with the full bottom of your foot and just on your toes for a moment to disrupt your trail. his breaths have started to mirror yours, forceful with the adrenaline from a good chase, and he freezes. he smells you.

he speeds up to a full run, paws thundering against the earth under him, loud and uncaring if you hear him coming or not, before he bursts through the trees where your scent is the strongest. but, you’re not there. the wolf whines disbelievingly, bringing his nose to the floor to analyze your scent trail before a glimpse of red catches his attention from the corner of his eye. he spins around swiftly, expecting it to be the swish of your cloak as you run from, but it’s not you.

it’s the damn red panties you kindly left behind for him.

he rocks up on his hind legs to knock it off the branch to the ground, and presses his muzzle to the barely there fabric, inhaling your arousal deeply. an unhinged growl tumbles his way out of his chest, before it morphs into another full howl, letting you know how much he appreciates your present. carlos won’t be fooled by any more of your tricks again, and he takes off running.

you’ve taken a brief break from running, leaning forward with your hand against your knees as you catch your breath. it’s loud around you; bugs are buzzing and you can hear the hoots of several owls echoing through the forest. suddenly, it goes completely silent, quicker than a drop of a pin. you slam your mouth shut, quieting your inhales, and you slowly shift your stance into a running position, trying to use your hearing to tell what direction the wolf is coming from. you hear the rustle of a tree on your right, and you make to leap away into a run–but it’s too late.

you’re caught, large hands around your waist and a leg sweeps your own out from underneath you and takes you to the ground. a scream of surprise escapes from your chest but is cut off with a heavy hand laying over your mouth.

carlos is looming over you, kneeled in between your legs, bare as the day he was born, chest heaving, and pupils wide from the thrill and pleasure of a successful hunt. “caught you. i could hear your little heart racing in your chest.” he boasts.

carlos removes his hand only to replace it with his lips, and the passion he bathes your lips with fragments your mind. you can only part your lips and let him ruin you as he pleases. his plump lips suckle on yours before his tongue begins an eager exploration of your mouth–a desperate moan falls from his lips into yours. one of his hands comes to grasp at the curls on your head, tilting you for a better angle; and you raise one of yours to grasp at his shoulder for stability, but carlos startles away. an animalistic growl rumbles through his chest in dissent, and he grabs both of your wrists in one of his hands, and pins them above your head.

you’re at a loss for words, unsure if you want to moan or plead to suck his dick, but carlos doesn’t give you a chance to decide.

he allows himself one last soul-sucking kiss, before he presses nips into your cheeks and jaw, leading towards your neck. carlos buries his nose deeply into the spot where your jaw meets your neck, and takes an excessive inhale of your scent. dios mio. the way you smell. delectable and rich soaked with lust and the dregs of fear still clinging in the surroundings. he gets to smell this for the rest of his life. another growl erupts possessively, and you can only moan depravedly at the sound.

carlos continues to lavish kisses on his way down your body, bruising them into your skin before soothing over with a pass of his tongue. the hand in your hair releases, coming down to allow him to grasp at your chest, brushing over your nipples in a quick motion; the lace scrapes against them and the feeling is paralyzing. he tugs the rossi corsa bra underneath your breasts, and they spill out over the top in a manner so obscene it forces another moan out of carlos. he ducks his head again, to tease at your nipples with his tongue, alternating between flicking and sucking at them randomly. he ignores your hips are rolling up, attempting to get some friction, and your hands in his wrists flexing and tugging to escape.

he frees your nipples from the assault of his lips, and starts sucking hickeys into your underboob with a pleased hum. the change in sensation and slight ache, has another scream bursting from your chest, it’s too much.

“c-c-carlos, c’mon! please, please—oh!” cutting yourself off with a gasp, as carlos abruptly pulls away, his large hand releasing your wrists, to scooch down and bully your legs open with a free hand and shoves his broad tanned shoulders between your thighs.

you’re dripping everywhere. the tops of your inner thighs are smeared with stickiness and you’ve created a wet spot on the cloak underneath you. a growl fully spills from carlos’ chest, shaking the air around you and causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise. he is an apex predator, you should at least be slightly terrified, but all you do is moan in response, more arousal leaking from you, and you start begging.

“carlos!p-please touch me! lobo mió—please, dont you wanna taste me? i want you to eat me,” you sob, “eat me out! you h-h-hunted me, take what you want!”

carlos laughs sharply at your obscenity, “oh? mi luna, you’re so bad, aren’t you? you should be scared of having my teeth so close to your pretty pussy, but here you are: begging, leaking, and your little hole winking and clenching at me, sí?”

you quickly agree, “yesyesyes, for you, for you, always. please carlos,” one of your hands flies down to grip at his hair and try and tug his mouth onto you. carlos snaps his teeth at you, and you quickly pull your hand away from his head, leaving it hovering in the air.

carlos growls, “don’t rush me, mi luna, i always take care of you, no?” you hum in agreement, both of your hands falling to your sides and gripping the grass next to you in anticipation.

carlos dips his head and swipes his tongue gently at your left inner thigh, and groans deeply. it’s your scent liquified; he licks his lips and smacks his mouth, savoring your slick. after that one sample he can’t help himself, he loses himself and makes it his personal mission to clean up every last drop of you that spilled. carlos’ mouth is sloppy, and he’s uncaring of how your thighs begin to shake in oversensitivity from the way his beard is scratching your thighs up, red lines appearing faintly on your brown skin. you start squirming away from his mouth, and carlos huffs, annoyed.

his hands switch to gripping the underside of your thighs, and he pushes them upwards near your chest, and commands, “stop moving, mi amor, or i’ll stop completely.” you moan a soft breathy okay, and your moan pitches into a sharp gasp. carlos runs his nose up your cunt parting the lips, more wetness spreading, before he pauses at your clit; and deeply inhales your scent from where it’s the richest. you cry, half bewildered and half humiliated, at your boyfriend eagerly sniffing at your warmth.

carlos rumbles out, “mierda, mi luna. mmm, so sweet—i cannot wait. i have to get in you, sí?” carlos doesn’t wait for a response and presses two fingers inside you. a cry escapes you at the sudden stretch, but your scent doesn’t sour with pain—carlos continues. he rushes through stretching you; his fingers scissoring you open methodically, consciously avoiding your g-spot. the squelching noises coming from your cunt, has tears gathering in your eyes in embarrassment, even though it’s fairly clear that carlos enjoys it.

his fingers slide out a minute later, and that same hand reaches for his dick to begin spreading your wetness over it. carlos hisses, and with a clenched jaw, he asks, “mi amor—estas lista (are you ready)?” his body is now vibrating with the force he’s holding himself back with, waiting for your approval.

your hands release the earth, blades of grass you ripped out of the ground falling from between your fingers, and motion carlos to come closer and lean over you, dwarfing your body completely, “yeah, lobo mio, fuck me.”

carlos whimpers, head falling to rest in your neck. his hand grasps tighter at the underside of your left thigh—a bruise forming already—and pushes it firmly to your chest, your right leg bends slightly and you press your knee to his hip, urging him forward.

carlos guides the head of his cock with a trembling hand to your cunt, and gently presses in. you sharply inhale, holding your breath, until the head pops in fully, causing both you and carlos to moan in pleasure. carlos continues sinking deeper within you as controlled and slowly as he can, not wanting to cause you any discomfort. however, you’re completely gone already. eyes shut in bliss, mouth open, drool already leaking from the corner of your lips. carlos lifts his head to read your expression, and smirks, you’re so easy for him.

he bottoms out, feeling how your walls squeeze him tightly, and flutter in desperation, like they can’t quite accommodate to his size. carlos waits patiently, chest heaving again from the strain of not taking you, and watches how you squirm underneath him, not knowing if you want to squirm away or closer. you adjust to his presence a handful of seconds later, and grind your hips up to feel the delicious drag of his dick inside of you. carlos’ eyes widen and a shocked groan escapes him before he rolls his own hips down to meet you.

carlos sets a quick pace from the beginning, he can’t be bothered with building up his speed slowly—he has a claim to lay on you; and to any other being in this forest who can smell how alluring you are, you’re his mate.

moans are being punched out of your chest with every one of his thrusts, harmonizing with his matching grunts of effort. your back is sliding against the grassy floor, and your shoved up with every one of his deep thrusts, and you sink your nails into his back in pleasure, and carlos growls into your ear at the feeling.

you manage to find words to praise your wolf, “s-so deep in me, carlos—yeahyeahyeah, deeper, baby, please—ah! faster, carlos, faster—“ and carlos does his best to fulfill your wishes; his mouth rests right next to your ear; his panting breaths, and moans only making you squeeze around him tighter.

he soon tires of your orders; he’s not doing his best if he hasn’t fucked the words out of you. carlos suddenly pulls out of you, and you cry out angrily with a furrowed brow, “no, carlos! don’t stop, what are you—“ and with a rough commanding tone, he interrupts you, “stop whining.” your mouth slams shut, the sound of your teeth clacking together mortifyingly loud, your eyes wide with shock.

carlos softens, patting at your hip gently to reassure you that he’s not angry. he then flips you over (cloak spread on the ground underneath you), up on your elbows and knees, and makes to mount you properly—like the wolf he really is. the air is thick, and with your back turned to him in such a vulnerable manner, adrenaline rushes through you again. carlos laughs down demeaningly at you, as your scent thickens even more with lust and smidge of fear.

rattled at his amusement, you try to push up onto your hands and knees, but carlos automatically pushes you back down, with a heavy, hot and veiny hand scruffing you at the base of your neck. you moan out highly, as carlos forces you back down to your elbows. he releases your neck and smooths his hand down to the small of your back to deepen your arch just the way he wants, and to pull your hips up to match.

all he says is, “now, you stay, just like that—and be a pretty hole for me.”

carlos bullies his dick back inside you, and doesn’t allow you any time to adjust in the this new position. he roughly pounds into you, now only caring about getting his release—he’ll make you cum after he’s thoroughly enjoyed his prize for hunting you down.

carlos’ grunts are animalistic, and his thrusts are too fast for you to try and buck back against him to match his rhythm; all you can do is sit pretty and take what he gives you—just like he said. you can only ramble out four words in between your moans; ‘carlos,’ ‘full,’ and ‘too deep.’ carlos rumbles approvingly at your chanting this time around, and pulls your hips back even closer to dig as deep as he can, uncaring of how you're trying to run from his thrusts.

your start babbling at the constant pressure and drag against your g-spot, he’s so deep, in this position, hitting areas he can only reach and causes your legs to give out. carlos’ hips don’t falter, as he catches you pulling you back up with a hand around your navel. and then his hips stutter in shock with a crude moan. he grabs one of your hands, causing you to fall flat on your face, head turned to the side with your cheek pressed to the cool red cloak—and guides it to your stomach and holds it there.

carlos resumes thrusting, and preens, “mmm, can you feel that, mi amor? i’m fucking you so deep—ah—you can feel it through your skin.” you can feel it, and the pressure from carlos pressing your hand on his own dick from outside of your body, has your eyes rolling back and tears streaming down your face. your legs go limp again, but carlos isn’t fazed; he continues to hold your body up for you. “so good for me,” carlos rambles, “mio luna—my mate.”

abruptly, you feel it. the press of his knot against you, and in a sudden moment of clarity, you start to beg.

“—los! kn-knot, please! ‘arlos, breed—ahahah—breed me deep and full—oh!”

carlos gnashes his teeth, growling savagely, before he leans down and forcefully bites down at the back of your neck—not enough to break skin, but enough to remind you of his teeth for a few days. you shudder, air stolen from your lungs, and you have no choice but to cum.

carlos feels the way your pussy flutters around him, failing to push him out with your release flooding your thighs, and how it continues to drag him deeper within you in a hypnotizing motion to milk him dry. carlos struggles to thrust once, twice, thrice more times with how tightly your cunt is gripping him and shoves his cock as deep in you as possible without allowing his knot to slip in, filling you up nice and good—breeding you just like you wanted.

carlos rocks you two both through the aftershocks, ensuring his cum coats your insides thoroughly, only slowing to a stop when your combined release starts frothing at where the two of you are joined, and your hips start squirming away from him. he guides you back, sitting you on his lap, keeping himself inside you, as he rotates you to face him.

your makeup is ruined. mascara and eyeliner staining your cheeks with the tracks of your tears, red lipstick smudged on your brown skin, eyes wide and still glassy with moisture. carlos swipes his thumb around your lips, fading the smudges as best as he can.

you smile softly, and ask with a light tone, “wasn’t that fun, mi lobo?”

carlos can only laugh softly, and nod, “yes—i did not know that you would enjoy being bred on the forest floor that much.”

your cheeks flush again after they began to cool, and you smack carlos shoulder in embarrassment. your brow furrows, and your mouth drops into a pout, “why didn’t you knot me?”

carlos raises an eyebrow at you teasingly, “ah, sí! you were begging for it like whore—“

“carlos!”

“i’m joking, i’m joking, mi luna! of course you were begging, more like a slut for my knot than a bitch in h—“

“dios mio, carlos! your fucking mouth after you cum—jesus christ!”

he can only laugh harder, extra pleased at how he gets you to fluster so easily, even after he just railed you in the middle of the forest.

“ay, mi amor—i’ll stop, im sorry,” he starts still grinning cockily, “pero, i did not give you the knot you begged for so sweetly, because my rut is in three days, sí? and i can’t afford to bruise your pretty pussy with my hefty knot before then, no?”

you balk. carlos’s semi-annual rut is a force of its own, you're practically out of commission for a week after it, unable to close your legs from how raw it leaves you. his knot bruises your insides every time you take it, so he definitely made the smart decision by not folding to your cries of desperation.

the scent of the two of you's satisfaction permeates the air, intertwining with the smell of sex, and carlos can only lean forward to mouth at your neck to taste how well he took care of you tonight.

“mmm,” carlos hums, “now—do you want me to carry you back to our den so i can finally get my mouth on you and clean you up, or do you want me to make another mess of you right here, mi luna?”

taglist: @lorarri @soph1644 @jaydensluv @fanboyluvr @nissaimmortal @redgonerogue @hollie911 @saintwrld @buendiabebeta @butterfly-lover @lana-d3l-rey @dylan1721 @spicybagel14 @dhhdhsiavdhajj @miahgonzalez16 @jjaekin @dkbj14 @f1lover55 @f1lov3r @mindless-rock @biancathecool @barnestatic @sweetpiccolo-blog @my-ylenia @zaynzierulez

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messy-crisantemo · 3 months

Text

Since last week, I wanted to make a

🎴 GenTan fic recommendation list Part 2! 🍉

Don’t forget to check out Part 1 too!

As the last time, this list is based on my personal likes and, ofc, on the fics I’ve read. I tried to include all GenTan flavors ❤️💜 They’re not put in any particular order and most of them are completed fics. I’m adding some of the tags, but not all of them since I don’t want to make this post extra long, so please read them again once you go to the Ao3 link. Anime-onlies, beware of spoilers. Please enjoy!

sliding across the clouded sky by mimimimi (reiiiiii), 179k, WIP

(Figure skating AU, Modern Setting, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Aged-Up Character(s), Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining)

The life of a figure skater is short. People expect you to retire at a young age and the moment you have an injury and take a break to recover, you're done for.

Shinazugawa Genya had to deal with it now that he's gotten the biggest injury on his skating career. And the press isn't helping at all, either.

The only light keeping him connected to the figure skating world? Kamado Tanjirou.

Starting with a classic! This beautiful slow burn explores the nature of their relationship as something that makes grow both Genya and Tanjirou. It has lots of funny and tender moments.

Life in plastic, it’s fantastic! by Side_Ponytail, 4k

(Modern Setting, Meet-Cute, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Getting Together, First Kiss, POV Alternating, Fluff and Humor, Scheming)

Tanjiro takes his siblings to see the Barbie movie, Genya’s siblings drag him along, and Parent Trap levels of shenanigans ensue.

No Barbie Movies were spoiled in the making of this fic.

One of the funniest and most adorable fics I’ve ever read. If you need a boost of sugar, this is it.

June Bridegroom by 125389, 2k

(Canon Compliant, Post-Canon, Fluff and Angst, Established Relationship, Kamado Tanjirou-centric, Horror, Manga Spoilers)

Upon concluding an important day, the boundary between dreams and reality blurs as Tanjirou reveals the true nature of his feelings and whom he's really marrying.

A fic for those who love to suffer and don’t fear to embrace the tragic nature of GenTan.

a checkered haori by DragonsAndCryptids, 2k

(Post-Swordsmith Village Arc, Hurt/Comfort, Scents & Smells, Pre-Relationship, Fluff)

After the confrontation with Sanemi, Genya steals Tanjiro's haori because he likes the way it smells and it helps calm him down.

He doesn't want to address why that is, but when Tanjiro finds out, he doesn't give him much of a choice.

Tanjirou being Genya’s weak point, we all love it.

All Bark, No Bite by Rigmaroler, 92k

(Witch Tanjiro, Werewolf Genya, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Hurt/Comfort, Falling in Love, Worldbuilding, Fluff, Action/Adventure, Sharing a Bed)

When Tanjirou first sees the wolf, he only has one thought in his head. He sees it under the light of the moon, just bright enough for the wet blood in its dark gray pelt to shine. Its teeth are bared, white, sharp and long as each of Tanjirou’s fingers. Its growl is a low bass rumble that Tanjirou can practically feel in his bones, rattling his spine. Its muzzle is stained red with blood, and marred with a jagged scar that cuts through its dense fur.

Or: Tanjirou is a witch's apprentice with a bad habit of bringing home strays. Genya is a young man who's been called a monster so many times, he's started to believe it.

Genya letting himself to be loved, Tanjirou learning that he can also want things for himself. Just beautiful.

The hidden stairs (Red velvet flicker) by Wild_Quetzal, 4k

(Alternate Universe - Vampire, Horror, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, vampire!Shinazugawa Genya, Dubious Morality, Enemies to Lovers)

A couple of minutes later, Tanjirou is left in his chambers. The place is big and empty. Despite the cold temperature, Tanjirou pays it no mind. He presses his ear against the heavy wooden door, then he sniffs it. Nothing seems out of place. He’s truly alone.

What the old lady who gave him instructions told him echoes in his mind: “That man is no Count. He’s a thief.”

Tanjirou arrives at the castle looking for answers. His host will only give him more questions. What is Genya hiding?

Yes, it’s the self-promo part. We had werewolf Genya and now we have vampire Genya in some very gothic and dramatic romance.

#again please check out more of all these authors’ works!#I can’t recommend them enough!#gentan #genya shinazugawa #tanjirou kamado #genya x tanjirou #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #kny fic #fanfic rec #fic rec #fanfic reccomendation #kny

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candycandy00 · 5 months

Note

CANDYYY!! Congratulations on 2k followers!! You deserve every single one of them!! ��💕

I saw the build your own fanfic adventure and you know I have to get in on this soooooooo:

Character: Dabi (what a surprise there 😂)

AU setting: Honestly I'm so stuck between Gothic Mansion and Monster Forest, I'll let you decide!!

Spice level: screw it let's go all the way, NSFW bb

Mood: I'll leave it up to you! You know me, I could go either way!

Kink: ugh I'll indulge a little today, Breeding/Daddy kink (sometimes I like being taken care of, you know?? 😂😂)

Have fun my love! 😘 Can't wait to read Choso's chapter!!

Waxwork - A Dabi x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dabi as a werewolf. Dabi as a vampire. Light vampire-related blood. Rough sex. Breeding. Oral sex. Heavily inspired by the 1988 horror film “Waxwork”.

This ended up a lot longer than I planned but I hope you like it, babe!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback is loved! Dividers by @benkeibear.

You’ve always loved wax museums, so when a new one opened up in town, you just had to visit on opening day. You walk through the doors, noting sadly that there isn’t a very big crowd. After looking through the “historical figures” and “celebrities” sections, you wander into the “fictional characters” area.

There are highly detailed wax figures lovingly made to recreate various famous scenes from novels and movies. A large portion of them are horror, and so you feel a chill down your spine as you notice you’re the only visitor in this section.

Some of the wax figures look so realistic, you find yourself staring at them to make sure they’re not moving. You walk around, looking at the displays, before stopping at one that fascinates you.

The scene looks like the interior of a cabin in the woods. There are even fake trees outside the windows. The “room” is lit by a fireplace. Near the door, there’s a young man bent backwards in what appears to be agony, in the midst of a transformation. He has messy white hair, and half his body is covered in white fur, giving the illusion that the fur is spreading. His dark clothes are ripped, and he’s clutching his head with his hands, one of them tipped with razor sharp claws. His eyes, so bright blue that they seem to glow, are staring upwards. You imagine he’s staring at a full moon.

Also in the display is a young woman in a ragged dress, recoiling from him in horror. Strangely, she resembles you. Her build is the same as yours, as well as her hair. But with her face so twisted by fear, you can’t really tell if that resembles yours too.

Your eyes keep being drawn back to the man, to the fine white fur that looks like crushed velvet. You want to touch it, to feel it beneath your fingertips. And his eyes… so beautiful.

Wait… did his eyes just move? For a fraction of a second, you thought his eyes flicked down to your face. But surely you imagined it. You laugh nervously, deciding you’ve been looking at this display for too long.

You move quickly to the next display, this one looking like the ornate dining room of a gothic castle. Sitting at the table in a beautiful Victorian style dress is a young woman who looks almost identical to the one from the previous display. Which means she looks just like you. Her hair is pinned up in an intricate style, and her dress is way too immodest to be historically accurate. It’s an off the shoulder design that is extremely low cut, exposing way more cleavage than was probably common in the Victorian era.

The young woman is holding a steak knife in her hand, and has apparently cut her finger on it by accident, as a shiny drop of red “blood” is made to look as if it’s dripping down her hand. But the most interesting part of this display is the man standing behind her, like a predator.

You draw in a sharp breath as you look at him, realizing with a tinge of alarm that he’s the same as the man from the werewolf display, with slight differences. This one has black hair, and is wearing a black Victorian suit with a cape. He also has scars covering the lower half of his face. But those eyes… those lovely blue eyes… they’re the same. There’s a look of hunger in them as he leans over the woman, staring at the drop of blood. You look at the blood too, trying to imagine why he finds it so compelling.

Oh, he must be a vampire! You almost laugh at yourself for being so slow to realize it. You casually glance back up at his face, and your breath catches in your throat.

He’s looking straight at you. Not at the drop of blood, but at you.

Your heart pounds furiously as you stare at him, locked in his gaze. This time you’re certain. His eyes moved! You know for a fact he was looking at the woman’s hand before! So why is he looking into your eyes now?

This must be some kind of trick or gimmick, you tell yourself, trying to calm down. Maybe the wax figure has some sort of mechanized feature that makes his eyes move, as a way to excite the visitors. Or, judging by how realistic he looks, maybe he’s an actor! The possibility makes you feel quite silly.

You back away, suddenly eager to leave this section of the museum, but your back collides with something and your body bounces forward, causing you to stumble over the velvet rope cordoning off the display and fall directly into it. You close your eyes and brace for the impact of the floor, but instead you black out.

When your eyes snap open, you’re sitting at the fancy table in the dining room. There’s a plate of delicious looking food in front of you and a steak knife in your hand. A single drop of blood is sliding down your index finger. You look in front of you, where the rope should be, but it’s not there. In fact, the rest of the museum is gone! You really are in a complete dining room!

All at once you remember the other occupant of the room, and you slowly turn your head to look over your shoulder. Leaning over you is the very beautiful, very alive, vampire with the black hair and the scars.

“Did you cut yourself? Are you okay?” he asks. You expected his voice to be more smooth and formal, given his attire, but he sounds like any random guy you go to college with.

You’re not sure what to say, wondering if this is a dream or not. Did you hit your head when you fell?

The man grabs your hand, firmly but not harshly, and pulls it up to his face to examine it. “Looks like a small cut,” he says, then wraps his scarred lips around your finger, his tongue lapping gently at the blood.

You’re so transfixed that you don’t think to pull your hand away until he’s finished. His eyes move over you, and you’re suddenly very aware of how obscenely low cut your dress is. You stand up from the table and look around, still hoping to see the rest of the museum somewhere. But it’s just not there.

“Not running off, are you?” the man asks, a hint of a grin on his face. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone for dinner.” His tongue runs over his lips as he says it, making your face flush with heat.

“Um, I’m not really sure where I am,” you say, your back against the edge of the table.

He steps closer to you. “You’re in my home, doll, and we’re about to have dessert.”

You feel paralyzed as he gets closer and closer, until his body is pressed against yours. He’s taller than you, probably a little older, but he’s fucking gorgeous.

Maybe this is a dream. Maybe it’s a concussion-induced hallucination. But whatever it is, you might as well enjoy it.

You reach up and wrap your arms around him as he lifts you up and sits you on the table, the plates and silverware magically gone. His mouth is on your neck, licking along a vein before you feel a sharp pain. He’s biting you! The pain is intense for a few moments, and then disappears, replaced by a feeling of euphoria. You can feel his teeth tearing at your delicate skin, can feel his tongue gliding along the wound, but it doesn’t hurt at all now. You only feel warm and aroused, listening to the sensual sucking sounds as he devours your blood.

He lies you back on the table and pulls away from your neck. His mouth is sticky and red. He pulls the top of your dress down, freeing your breasts, and then his hands and mouth are upon them, squeezing and licking.

You moan, clutching his shoulders, opening your legs ever wider as his body presses to you. Eventually he reaches down and rips the skirt of your dress right up the middle, clearing himself a path to your panties and exposing your white garter belt and stockings. He tears the panties away and bends down, running his tongue along your heated, damp flesh. You arch your back, ridiculously turned on by the idea of a vampire eating you out. His tongue, still wet with your blood, circles your clit, driving you to madness.

When you’re right on the edge of climax, he stops and pulls away, opening his pants to the sounds of your panting. “Gonna be a good girl for me?” he asks, sliding his hand up and down his hard, pleasingly large shaft.

“Yes! I’ll be so good!” you breathe out, locking your legs around his body, pulling him closer.

He grins as he shoves himself into you, licking your blood from his lips. His thrusts are deep, intimate, and hit your sweet spot just perfectly. “Ahh… feels so good…” you cry.

You want to moan his name, but you have no idea what it is.

“That’s it,” he says with a grunt, thrusting deeper, “taking me so well!”

Fuck it. Just go with the vibes.

“Harder, Daddy!”

He looks down at you, momentarily surprised, but then he laughs and fucks you harder than you’ve ever been fucked before.

You were already on the edge of cumming, and now you’re pushed over the edge by the way his tip hits your cervix, making you bounce off the table. You cum while clenching his cock.

Just before he releases his seed inside you, painting your womb in his color, he leans forward and bites your neck again. There’s that brief searing pain again, contrasting so deliciously with the pleasure rippling through you as his cock pulses in your body.

He pulls away, licking his lips again and pulling you up to your feet by your hand, like a gentleman. You’re in a daze as he leads you to the door of the room. “Thanks, doll. I haven’t had any visitors in a long time. Hopefully I’ll see you in the next one.”

“Next one?” you ask, confused as you walk through the door.

You find yourself back in the museum, standing in front of the vampire display. But it looks different now. The woman sitting at the table doesn’t look like you anymore, instead having plain, almost blank features. And the man, the vampire, is standing up straight, looking right at you, a subtle grin on his bloody lips.

Startled, you step back and touch your hand to your neck. You can feel the puncture wounds, the slick blood trickling out.

Was… was that real?

Somewhat delirious, you stagger away, and end up stumbling right into another display. This time you blink and you’re in the cabin in the woods. You’re the girl in the torn dress, cowering in fear of the white haired man who is turning into a werewolf before your very eyes.

He looks at you through his agony as his body transforms, and you can see the recognition in his eyes.

“Oh fuck, not this one!” he says, trying to move away from you. “Run! Get… to the edge… of the forest! Hurry!”

“What’s happening!?” you scream. “How did I even get here?”

“It’s the museum!” he shouts, clutching his head in pain. “Listen, you have to run! I can’t… control this form! I go fucking feral!”

You stand there, frozen, watching the soft white fur spread across his lean body, the claws on his hands get longer, the teeth in his much wider mouth become large and sharp. Two white furry ears even grow out of the top of his head.

“Feral, you say?” The question rolls off your tongue. Watching him writhe in pain as his body changes is… actually kind of hot.

He looks at you, blue eyes wild, and he seems to understand what you want. The transformation is complete. He stands before you much taller than before, covered head to toe in that lovely white fur. There’s a primal feel to the way he looks at you. Animalistic. Predatory.

Either he’s going to rip you apart or fuck your brains out. You really really hope it’s the latter.

He lunges forward and tackles you to the floor, pushing you face down onto the rug in front of the fireplace. His movements are fast and aggressive, but not too rough. He easily could have killed you already.

With one swipe of his powerful claws, your dress is in tatters, barely clinging to your body in tiny strips that cover nothing. Behind you, he lifts your hips and spreads your thighs, and almost immediately plunges into your slick pussy.

You cry out, gripping the rug in your hands as he begins fucking into you, your bare chest and stomach rubbing against the rug with each thrust. Ah, his cock feels incredible! It’s long and hard, covered in a thin layer of soft velvety fur. As he takes you from behind, he uses one hand to lightly scrape his claws down your back.

“Oh god!” you scream out when one clawed hand reaches around and finds your clit, rubbing and pinching it, making your body tremble. You don’t have to tell him to fuck you harder. You don’t think he possibly could. Your knees are wobbling, barely supporting you, your face is pressed into the rug, your tears seeping into it. You’ve never felt this good in your entire life.

You feel him twitching inside you, and just as you feel his scalding hot cum shoot directly into your womb, you feel your own orgasm wash over you. Moaning and panting, you stay there on the rug, your face buried in it, until he eventually pulls out. By the time you have the energy to roll over and look at him, he’s reverted back to human form.

He’s standing there naked, his white hair damp and hanging in his eyes. He drops down onto the rug beside you, and you scoot closer to him, pulling your knees up to your chest.

“What is this place?” you ask him. “Is this really still the museum?”

The fireplace is roaring behind you, and you can hear the wind blowing through the trees outside the cabin.

“I think every display is its own pocket dimension,” he says. “But fuck if I know how it all works.”

You look at him intently. “Who are you?”

He shrugs. “Just a guy who got stuck here. I came to the museum with some friends a few years ago, stumbled into one of the displays, and got stuck. I stayed inside too long, so now I can’t leave.”

“Why not?” you ask.

“When I finally found the border, the way back to the museum, I stuck one arm out and it instantly turned to wax. As long as I stay in the displays, I’m flesh and blood. But I can move my consciousness around the different dimensions.”

You suddenly feel panicked. “What about me?”

He grins. “You’ll be fine. You haven’t been here nearly long enough. Certain rare people get pulled in, and I always lead them out.”

You meet his gaze for a few moments, then say, “I’ll come back! I’ll visit you as often as I can!”

He gives you a somewhat sad smile. “The museum moves around to different towns. We probably won’t be here for longer than a year.”

“Then I’ll track it down!” you say forcefully, causing him to blink in surprise. “Wherever you go, I’ll find you!”

“I hope so,” he says, then he stands up and heads for the door, opening it. He tosses a blanket to you to cover yourself with and says, “You better get going. Head to the edge of the forest and you’ll be back in the museum.”

You wrap the blanket around yourself as you walk through the door. You stop and look back at him. “What’s your name?”

He smiles. “Touya.”

Minutes later, you’re back in the museum, standing in front of the werewolf display. The man who was once bent back in pain is standing calmly in the cabin now, looking at you without moving. You wave to him before turning to leave. “See you later, Touya!”

#dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #touya x reader #bnha x reader #dabi smut #dabi x you #x reader #candys2kevent

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ofstarsandvibranium · 2 years

Text

Little Red Riding Hood

Fandom: Stranger Things (Werewolf AU)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x F!Reader

Summary: You and Eddie go to Steve’s Halloween party and your couples’ costume is….interesting.

Warning: smut - oral (fem receiving), fingering

A/N: same universe as Pack's Got Your Back

It was a little on the nose. You jokingly suggested you dress as Red Riding Hood for Halloween and Eddie dress as the Wolf. Eddie, surprisingly, was actually all down for it. However, when he showed up at yours to pick you up, you were disappointed to not see him in costume.

“And why aren’t you dressed?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest.

Eddie smirks at you, “I’m already a wolf, sweetheart. And my, my, don’t you look,” he licks his lips as his eyes rake over your body, “delicious”. Your red and white dress clung to your body, a velvet red hooded cloak draped along your shoulders. He leans in for a kiss, but you stop him.

“Nope. You get nothing since you didn't dress up."

He sighs and pulls out a werewolf mask that he had in his pocket, "There, happy?"

"Very!" you grab your basket and lock the door, pulling Eddie to his car.

________________________

Eddie knew what you were doing. The way you swayed your body against his to the music. The way you really pressed your ass to his crotch. Every time he tried to pull you close, you'd pull away, a smirk donning your lips as you peered over your shoulder.

He tries pouncing at you but you dodge, running around the house with a giggle.

You eventually run through the backyard, heading towards the woods behind Steve's place.

You stop at the threshold between two trees. You turn back to Eddie, whom was yards away. You curl your finger towards a "come here" motion and proceed to skip merrily into the woods.

Eddie wasn't lost on what you were doing. You were Red Riding Hood and he was the Big Bad Wolf ready to hunt his prey.

He chuckles lowly and starts stalking towards the woods. With the full moon in a few days, his senses were heightening. This meant that he could smell you and hear you a lot clearer.

"Over the river and through the woods, to grandmother's house we go!" you sing a distance.

Eddie sped up, following your echoing voice, moving around trees and branches until he saw your billowing red hooded cape in sight.

He was swift and quiet as he crept through the woods on the sidelines. He kept an eye on you until he was at a perfect angle to pounce.

Just like he wanted, you stopped in a clearing. You were a little out of breath. You listened to hear any noise from him, but nothing.

Then-

"AH!" you yelped as you fall onto your back and Eddie is straddling you. His holds your hands down with his, licking his lips, "Well, well, what do we have here? Little Red all alone with no one to save her from the big bad wolf."

You whimper, but not out of fear, but out of arousal, "Eddie," you moan out his name.

He chuckles, "I know, Little Red. I know what you want. I can smell you. You want this big bad wolf to fuck your little pussy, hm?"

"Fuck," you murmur, Eddie's words really getting to you, "Eds, please."

He moves to kneel, leaning back on his legs, "I don't know if I should give it to you, baby. You've been teasin' me all night and that wasn't very nice of you."

He drags his nose down the side of your face and to your neck. He hums when he recognizes his scent on you. He loves it.

He kisses your skin and then nips at it, which makes you squeal, "No marks!" Reminding him that you can't go to work with hickies.

He smirks against your neck, "Oh I can guarantee that the marks I'll give you won't be seen by anyone but me." He scoots his body back to lay on his stomach. He pushes up the dress to reveal you weren't wearing any underwear.

"Fuck. You're such a naughty baby, aren't you? Walking around Harrington's house with your pussy bare for people to see."

He spreads your legs further and delves in. You throw your head back in pleasure, gripping his wild hair as if your life depended on it.

"Fuck yes, Eds!" you cry out as he eats you out. He eventually slides two fingers into you, to add more pleasure.

He pulls away slightly panting, "You like that, baby?" You bite your lip with a nod and he smirks at you, "Good girl," he mumbles against your thigh. You moan when you feel his teeth sink into you. Yup. No one won't see these marks at all.

"More, Eddie, please," you beg, rocking yourself on his fingers.

"I hear ya, Red, loud and clear."

Eddie sits up and is ready to pull his pants down until, he's interrupted, "Well, well. What do we have here? The Freak and Freakette getting down and dirty in the woods?" Jason Carver and a few of his basketball friends enter the clearing.

You scramble to your feet and Eddie pulls you behind him. You wrap your red cape tightly around your body.

Eddie murmurs over his shoulder, "Go. I got this."

You look at him with concern, "Don't-"

"I won't hurt them...too much." he says with a hint of a smirk.

"If I don't see you in ten minutes, I'm coming back with Robin and Steve." You say sternly before running off back to Steve's house.

___________

Ten minutes pass and you're pacing in Steve's backyard. You're ready to head back in but then you see Eddie walk through.

You throw yourself into his arms and then examine his face, "Are you okay?!"

He shrugs, "A few bumps and bruises. Nothing I can't handle."

"And the others?"

Eddie smirks and pulls you closer, "He definitely won't be messing with me or my pack ever again."

"You smile at him with pride and then glance back at Steve's place, "Should we head back in?" You pull away from him, but Eddie brings you right back in.

"Actually, I believe we were in the middle of something before we got interrupted, right?"

You playfully roll your eyes, "Horndog." you tug at his hand, "Fine. Let's say good-bye to Robin and Steve first before we head back to mine. Okay?"

Eddie gives you a cheeky grin as he lets you pull him back to the Halloween party to say your goodbyes.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #smut #eddie munson smut #werewolf!eddie #werewolf!eddie munson #f!reader #female!reader #fem!reader

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therealmintedmango · 2 years

Text

Cerberus - Part Three

Genre: Werewolf/ Shifter AU; Medieval AU; Strangers-To-Lovers AU; Heavy Angst; Soulmate AU; Eventual romance/ smut

Rating: NC 18+, Explicit

Words: 7,396

Pairings: (Eventually) ot7 BTS x Human Female Reader

Warnings: Dark themes; Yandere Vibes; Death; Gore; Murder/ Killing; Dark Dreams; Wolf Centric Chapter

Tag List: (Please notify me if you wish to be added/ no longer want to be apart of the tag list!) @openup-yourmind, @deeepvibes, @xxsunny-side-upxx, @heoniebaby

Cerberus Playlist — Apple Music (Let me know if you have a good song to add to the playlist and I’ll chuck it in there!)

——————-

The hunt is on,

For it is night.

I lurk in the shadows

Under the pale moonlight.

All creatures tucked away in their beds,

Slumber taking its hold and pressing

Down, down, down.

Either a fairytale or a nightmare,

I get to decide,

For you cannot run and

you cannot hide.

Though she does not see me nor sense me,

I can see her sweat and shake,

A virgin so pure and fragile,

I dare not defile.

Not until she is heady and ready,

Shivering in my claws — it’s not too late.

For she is mine.

…Mine…

Mine…!

MINE!

I wake with a fright, my heart is beating viscously, thumping clean out of my soggy skin. I sit up, the bed frame creaking under my movements as I push the heavy sheets to the side. My body glistens, dripping in a hot-cold sweat under the moonlight that baths my room in her silver, pale glow. My nightgown is soaked, covered in my perspiration, the cream-colored silk clings to me for dear life. The hairs around my neck are plastered in place. My breaths come out in heaves, my hands shake with terror.

Shuddering at the nightmare I just had, I stare at the princes’ family portrait as my eyes adjust. There are no teeth here, nor claws—no looming figures that stalk me in the throes of the velvet night. Just seven sets of rust-colored eyes staring down at me. I tear my eyes away and stare at the tree branches outside, there is a heavy fog relaxing among the wood in an eerie cloak, blanketing the night.

I’m awake. I tell myself as I rub my face in my hands, feeling a cold night sweat occur. I am awake and I am alive and that is all that matters. I gulp, trying to regain some composure.

That nightmare was truly hellish.

Twigs snap under my bare feet, branches slice the skin on my face and arms as I race as fast as I can muster. A giant wolf or dog was chasing me deeper and deeper into the bog, the thicket of trees and vines so tall, there was no room for escape as my path came to a dead end. Its eyes a light golden color, its fur shrouded in the night as it hunted me, stalked me like I was pretty prey. The creature snarls, bearing its blinding white teeth, claws like sharp knives ready to pierce my skin raised above me as it let out this feral, ghoulish howl from the depths of its belly. It sounded like it was almost gleeful, a chorus of wailing howls surrounded me, forming a circle of terror with their sunset eyes, fangs, and ferocious sounds. I called for help, for someone to save me, but there was little to be done. Within the next instance, a whole pack of wolves smiled at me as the moon fell from the sky…then they descended upon me.

Then I awoke.

I shudder once more, a ripple of uncomfortable remembering races through my body.

My eyes sweep a glance at the fireplace, the stone hearth is dead, as it is well into the early hours of the morn, not even a peep of the sun shimmering gold and reds on the horizon. No autumn birds sing outside in their nests. All is still in the house and in the wood. I take some deep breaths and try to compose myself, still sitting in the guest room the princes’ have allowed me to reside in.

Why they are so kind and gentle to me, I shall never understand.

My tongue is dry and I long for a glass of water. I have a bell next to my bedside to call upon the staff if I need something, however I like to do things myself, much to the princes’ dismay. Besides, it is far too early to call upon someone at this hour. I shall go to the water pump outside beside the kitchen and fetch myself a glass of water. An easy feat, I tell myself as I slink out of bed.

I quickly light the long eggshell-colored candle in the holder next to my bedside, feeling the cool of the floor under my feet gives some relief to my anxious body. As quiet and gingerly as I can, I open my door and make haste for the stairs. I have been residing in this home for around a month or so and I have gotten to know these halls a fair bit. There is still an air of mystery and glamor to this house, the grounds, and the people inside the walls.

The princes’ all delight in doing various activities with me throughout the week such as poetry reading with Seokjin after breakfast on the days he isn’t taking care of his royal duties. I have noticed his voice and his demeanor change when he reads about romance, which he does not do often…he almost appears wistful. Yoongi likes to play the piano in the study with me, though he is much better than I at the instrument. It is mesmerizing to observe him play such intricate melodies.

Hoseok is particularly active. He delights in taking me for strolls any time of the day and has promised to take me hunting once the ball has come to pass. Namjoon and I discuss various books in the study's library. He has so many first editions to such classic tales—I enjoy his vast knowledge of the world. Maybe one day I will make it out there. Jimin has asked for my opinions on the gardens, though he says they are not fully ready to view and walk through yet. He brings a brand new bouquet to have in my room every fortnight which is incredibly thoughtful.

Taehyung is so fascinating to be around. He is neither too loud nor too quiet, he is neither too sharp, nor too soft. He is so many things and I believe that’s why he paints and creates many things. Jungkook is the biggest enigma out of the family. He does all the things his brothers do, but he is the most secretive by far. I suppose being one of fourteen myself, I understand you are a combination of all good things your siblings are.

Getting to know these princes’ is a touch overwhelming, but it certainly leaves me craving more from our interactions. Those amber eyes they all share bore deep into my skull at times, speaking to me in a language I can’t quite understand.

The wolf decor in the hallway to the dining room catches my eyes and I almost freeze in my tracks, the candle flame flickers as I suck in a tight breath. In my haste to procure some water and my wandering ,rabid thoughts, I have failed a few things: I do not have on the proper attire to be roaming around late at night, I don’t exactly know how to get to the water pump outside, and I haven’t realized just how eerie the castle looks shrouded in the blackness of night. I tear my eyes away from the stone wolf heads and their hollow eyes as I slink through the dining room quickly. The only sound I can hear is the slight crackling of the flame and the soft padding of my feet across the lush carpets and wooden floors.

At last I have reached the kitchens and I know the pump for the water is not far. Dawning on me, I have not seen the space where my food comes from. There are several large hearths for cooking, brick ovens, a pantry that is as long and wide as my room upstairs, cupboards filled with intricate plates and dishes that are in mint condition though they look centuries old. Dried herbs hang along the walls and the counters are so clean, I think to myself as I glide my fingertips across the cool, smooth stone surfaces. It smells of faint spices from last night’s roasted pheasant and slightly sweet from the cranberry pie that was served for dessert.

Mice are maybe quieter than I, but I secure a glass out of the cupboard—one that looks neither too fancy nor too breakable. I am a clumsy fool most of the right time. Never saying the right words or feet tripping over invisible laces.

There is a small door in the corner of the kitchen and a slim hallway one leading to a staircase upstairs to where the staff live, I assume. I gingerly press the wooden door open, fearing I have stumbled onto someone’s living chambers. The wood groans slightly as I push the latch free from its metal confines and I have come this far to give up on my conquest for water. I suck in a breath and close one eye in anticipation, mustering strength up to thrust the door open.

I feel it before I see it. The cold of the dead of night.

Before I go and do anything else brash, I quickly scan the ground around me. I see a singular brick on the ground outside and I place it between the threshold of the door, so I will not be locked out of the castle.

The darkness outside is thick, palpable. The fog is like cold, faint whispers of ghosts floating around my body. A breeze whips up and I clutch my candle close, fearing the yellow flame would be whisked away. I look for the water pump close to the house, wandering along the side of the brick and marble stone. The night air sends a wave of shivers down my spine. It turns my nipples to hard pebbles under my nightclothes. The fog is dense and the night is dark and the little hairs on the back of my neck start to raise in warning. I am determined to find some water, even though I am inching further and further away from the only door I know will grant me entrance into the house.

My body is telling me to run, run far away! Dash away like a mad person! Dash away like you did all those many moons ago!

However, the need for this water to survive is all that is keeping me stitched together at this moment.

To calm my nerves, I hum a tune I have not heard nor sung in years. A lullaby my mother used to sing to me. It’s a relaxing melody, the notes light and sweet. It usually coaxes tears to my eyes, though I cannot be swayed to dwell too much on her memory. The wind and my lullaby are the only things that my ears pick up on.

The little light from my candle finally catches the gleam from the metal pump, glimmering in the tiny glow. I have to make haste I think as I work quickly. I work in a flurry, setting the candle on the edge of the pump and placing the glass right where the water will flow out. I wish not to be out and about on this night any further. The metal groans and sputters awake, cutting the eerie silence wrapped up in the fog of the early morn with a knife. The noise sends a shutter down my spine as I continue to rouse the liquid from the mouth of the water pump. My throat is metaphorically in the middle of a barren desert, sticking to the roof of my mouth, tongue shriveling away placed behind my parched lips.

Something underfoot snaps in the wood close to me as soon as the water springs to life, filling my glass up.

The liquid spurts out, spilling everywhere, dribbling over my cold feet, my dry throat stiff and useless as I cannot even utter a simple whimper. I stop pumping, the groan of the metal pump clunking back into place with a thud. My heart is beating clean out of my chest, a black figure seems to emerge from the shadows; my nightmare is still very prevalent, swimming around in my brain as I nearly pass out from the fright of something lumbering toward me in the throes of the foggy, velvet night. My mind is doing spins, searching for the right thing to do. Do I run? Scream? Do nothing and pretend I don’t exist? Play like I am deceased? My stomach is empty, falling into pits on the frigid ground, my heart pumping blood into my ears.

It looks like a bear? It is very large and lingering, a snarl protruding out of the creature's jaws. No, a dog? I wish to vomit. The thing is stalking the tree line like a wolf—

“Y/N?”

I spin around, nearly tripping over myself, eyes blown out in shock as Taehyung's deep baritone fills the night with its earthy tone and rich timbre. He is in his night clothes, a quizzical expression on his face as he looks down upon me. The second youngest brother’s eyes flit to mine, the water pump and the tree line of the somber wood. Taehyung’s candle is raised to illuminate his strikingly handsome face in the soft golden flickering glow.

“What are you doing out here?” His amber eyes look down at my feet as a smirk dawns his lips. “You have a penchant for being barefoot, I see.”

“Prince Taehyung…” I whisper, my heart still beating rapidly, buried within my chest cavity. A blush blooms over my face. I am now acutely aware he can see straight through my silks, the cool, night air making my chest perky.

After a moment of awkward silence, the dog-creature nearly forgotten, Taehyung says, “I needed a midnight snack and there was a draft in the kitchen. I saw someone propped the kitchen door open and I heard the water being pumped so I came to investigate.” The sixth eldest prince smiles as he regales his discovery of me outside. “Let's get you inside, little bird.” He says softly, picking up my now mostly full water glass. “Hold my night clothes so I shan’t lose you in this thick fog.”

With haste, I do as he commands. Taehyung leads me back through the door of the kitchens and off to bed with a cold glass of water finally.

I miss his expression when we are outside: the way his thick brows are knitted together, eyes wild and unhinged, teeth are bared, gleaming in the glow of the candle and moonlight. This was his way of sending a silent warning to the creature hiding in the fog and tree line.

She is MINE. STAY AWAY.

The early morning hours, where breakfast is served and everyone is flurrying about, are some of my favorite hours here in the Bangtan brother’s castle. I enjoy watching the brothers and staff mingle and mix, the princes’ keeping each other up to date with their lives and what they are going to accomplish each day. It inspired me to rise with them, not only to dine with all seven of them, but to hear what they are working on. It reminds me of my brother’s back home. My chest aches at the thought of them, sadness and misery clutch the edges of my mind and the morning sun rays permeate the curtains in my room.

The ball they hold for their kingdom on the night of the pregnant harvest moon is fast approaching. Not only are the staff deep into preparing, but the princes are as well. Each brother is doing something exquisite and unique which I am looking forward to seeing. Seokjin and Namjoon are splitting the duties of organizing the ball, though Seokjin is focusing on the food mostly and Namjoon is strengthening ties with other kingdoms as each of the neighboring states have been invited as well. Yoongi is taking care of the music; he is out with the Royal Bangtan Orchestra most afternoons, though he always has time to sit in front of the piano with me. Hoseok is handling entertainment like jugglers, fire eaters, and palm readers, which sounds fascinating to me as I’ve never experienced anything like that. Jimin is in charge of the gardens as well as adding impressive bouquets at every table and ropes of bright flowers that line every threshold. Taehyung is taking care of displaying Bangtan’s most eloquent and opulent paintings and statues on display. He is also very concerned about the fashion choices for the ball as wigs are all the rage right now and he wants to impress the crowd with his stylish, yet sensible choices. Jungkook has a surprise happening in the evening when cocktails and dessert is presented and though I press him for information, he holds tight to his secrets, smiling like a smug dog who has just buried a giant bone in the wood for safe keeping.

I’m grateful to them. Amidst the planning and preparation for this ball, they have still kept me in the loop and connected them, nor have they cast me out of their lives. If anything, I feel more entwined with them than at the beginning of my stay. A pang of sour guilt eats at my heart as I dress for the day in a simple, yet chic light blue gown. I hope that my brothers have received an invite and are coming so I can see them again and they will take me home. It’s not that I do not enjoy the company of the princes of Bangtan. Nay. It is the loss of my own thirteen brothers that consumes me, dread prickling my senses, the thought of torture or death backing me into a corner. I feel like a rabid dog, bothering the staff about anyone calling upon me or any letters received in my name. Nothing has turned up, no matter how much I write…or worry…It seems like I am at a stalemate, losing one family and being taken in by another…

I shake my head as I reach the end of the stairs, my stomach growling desperately for food as I try to shake a bad feeling from my mind.

Although I have made it my mission to rise and not waste the precious hours of the day, due to my roaming around before dawn even set in, I overslept. Taehyung gratefully escorted me back to my room last night with my water in hand, though he looked as if he had seen a ghost and barely said anything when we were back inside the castle. I am greeted by a few lingering staff leaving the dining hall in a flurry, concern painting their expressions. It smells of bacon, eggs, mapel, and tension hanging in the air. Wrapped up in my own thoughts, I have missed the angry dialogue protruding through the air. Like a silly moth to a brilliant flame, I am entranced; I wander closer as everyone scurries away from the ruckus.

“WHAT WOULD YOU HAVE ME DO? LET THESE DEMONS WIN?! LET THEM DESTROY EVERYTHING WE HAVE BUILT UP?! IT IS UNACCEPTABLE TO LET SOMEONE DIE LIKE THAT, NAMJOON!”

I almost gasp as my fingertips ghost the door to the hall. I have never heard Seokjin speak so angrily to anyone, let alone his brother.

There is a wicked snarl and something is shattered in the room. I recoil with the noise, the shouting and glass breaking reminding me of my father. Since no one else will, I should try and stop their bickering at once I think as I push open the door. I am greeted by Namjoon’s back to me, his large body and posture was menacing. Seokjin’s hair is standing on end, lips pulled back to reveal a set of pearly white teeth. Seokjin deflates when he sees me silently walk into the room, amber eyes that were narrowed and wild locking onto mine, turning into solem orbs at the sight of me.

“WE SHOULD NOT HAVE TAKEN HER IN! SHE IS GOING TO BRING NOTHING BUT MISFORTUNE AND DEMONS INTO THIS HOUSE!” Namjoon shouts. He then turns once Seokjin looks away shamefully, nodding to me frozen behind Namjoon.

They are talking about me.

Tears well in my ducts instantly, I bite my bottom lip to keep from crying in front of the princes. My heart dies and falls into my stomach, my throat feels tight, and I desperately wish I was anywhere but here. I wish I were millions of miles away from this place and all the gloom I carry around with me.

Namjoon sags, looking terribly remorseful, lifting his hands to reach out to me. “Y/N…”

I flinch away from his outstretched hands.

“I apologize, dear princes.” I whisper the words out as I turn to leave, throat going hoarse. “I-I never realized what a burden I was here. I-I-I will leave at once!”

“No!” Seokjin and Namjoon both yell, but it was too late.

I fled out of the dining hall and into the grand entrance of the building, running outside. I let my feet guide me as salt tears blurred my vision, the bottom of my gown was ruined as it was getting stained by the mud my boots were kicking up. Me. They were arguing about me. I choked on a sob, strangling my throat. I didn’t realize I was such a burden. Of course I am. I am doing nothing but pestering them, eating their food, and staying in their home for nothing in exchange. I ran into the hedge maze winding round and round until I was so utterly lost and exhausted, I took rest at the closest gazebo I found.

Stupid! I chastise myself. Stupid girl! Of course you are a burden! Your whole life you have been a burden! You make messes and hope that someone will come along and clean it up for you!

More tears and cries fill the space in the garden as I replay the short portion of conversation I heard between the two brothers. My heart is breaking. I should have never been so reckless with their kindness. They have done more than enough for me and I should never have overstayed like I have. Though I am feeling more comfortable everyday in the Bangtan castle, this is not my home.

I watch a monarch butterfly flit and flounce through the air once my tears have ceased. The autumnal butterfly’s wings beat like it is trying to get away from something, moving frantically up and down, then side to side. It carries itself past me, turning to me briefly as if to say RUN and I have an unnerving feeling looking at the beautiful creature.

A sinister feeling crawls up my spine…The same eerie and odd one I got last night…As if I was being watched…My eyes blow wide as I quietly scan the spot I am sitting upon. There is no movement in the hedges, no autumn breeze or sway of the foliage, the garden is silent. No movement is heard from any discretion, but I feel like I am being stalked. I am isolated out here in the garden; who will save me if I am in danger? I shake my head slightly. I am no one else’s burden. I have to save myself. All the baby hairs on my body stand though I cannot bring myself to stand. I am tired physically and frozen to the spot on the shaded gazebo spot in terror. My heart is beating when I hear a slight rustle coming from behind me. Do I dare look?

A head pops out from behind a tall, lush hedge and I nearly scream. The fifth eldest amber eyes lock on to my wide orbs at his sudden appearance. Jimin is like an air elemental, I never hear him coming; he is silent, cunniling deadly, or fragrant and sweet, but he can be boisterous and whipped up into a tornado if provoked unfathomably. I have only seen him act that way to Jungkook though when they spar in a wrestling match.

“Y/N?” Jimin smiles as he sees me sitting under the gazebo. “What are you doing out here?” His golden, amber eyes really drink me in as he approaches, seeing the sorry state I find myself currently in. His eyes flick to something behind me as he takes my hand in his suddenly, pulling me promptly up, his puffy lips moving into a tight-lipped frown. Jimin’s presence calms me down immediately, though his worry still makes me slightly concerned. “Come now, you have somewhere to be soon, though it is a surprise.” He says in his feather-soft voice as he leads me away.

I give a chaste look over my shoulder to find the butterfly floating down and landing in the spot I was just in.

—

“It is a marvelous day to go to town, wouldn’t you say so, Y/N?” Seokjin says as we step out into the busy and boisterous town in the middle of the afternoon. He takes my gloved hand as I step from the royal carriage.

“It is, yes, your majesty.” I say, gingerly avoiding puddles of water or urine on the cobblestone pavement. I could not discern what was what.

Seokjin apologized profusely for the outburst I witnessed from earlier in the day. He was extremely sorry (I thought I caught a glimpse of a tear swimming in his golden eyes) and he vowed to repay me by taking me to a surprise. On the way here, I knew we were headed to the dressmaker as she lives in the south-east side of Bangtan. I easily accepted his apology for I knew how remorseful and ashamed he was for his behavior and words. Seokjin explained how they all voted to have me stay at the castle and Namjoon was really the only one against it. He was worried I would bring a kingdom of angry citizens and an army of guards to them. It was nothing more than worry and concern coloring his view of me and a potential situation I’ve put them all in. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Still, I felt more like a burden to them now more than ever.

During my stay in the Bangtan castle, I told them about some of my past and only that I’ve run from an abusive and oppressive kingdom. No lies, but not half truths. I am not ready to admit to any person that I am a murderer. That I’ve killed my own father at that…

“Paisley, will you escort Y/N inside, please? And give Madam Hwasa this to settle the payments.” Seokjin handed her a fat velvet bag full of jingling gold coins. Paisley, one of the staff I have become closer over the weeks with, has come along as our chaperone. Though, I suspect part of the reason she is here because she fancies Jongbak, the footman.

“Yes, your majesty.” She says softly as she ushers me into the dressmaker.

Madam Hwasa barely says a word as we enter. She is older than me, I gather, but not by much. She has a face that is ethereal and otherworldly, dazzling to look at, though she always seems so sad. It is as if she is waiting for a lover to return to her forlorn heart and she speaks in a meak manner. The princes have taken me to her twice now as they did not have too many spare clothes lying about fit for a woman. They say she only apprenticed for only a year before she took over for the master dress designer because she was so talented. They say her silks and fabrics have magic in them.

Paisley hands her the sack of cash and I am once again whisked away behind the dressing room curtains. She undresses me in a flash, the garments protecting me from the autumn cold are stripped from my body—my undergarments stay as I await Madam Hwasa to return. She works quickly and quietly, her small fingers working with haste in an expert fashion.

A slight chill runs down my spine down into my stockings. I feel like I am being watched again, but Paisley has stepped out of the enclosed curtain room. It’s just me, my garments, a chair, and a half-circle of mirrors. The little hairs on my neck stand at attention, the eerie, aching chill blooms throughout my body making me shiver. Jeonghan had told me that spine shivers are caused by people in the future stepping on your grave. I wrinkle my nose in disgust. What a terrible thing to think about.

I fold my arms across my chest in a protective stance, my senses are on high alert since last night. Dreams were the windows into your soul, were they not? Why was I dreaming about dogs or wolves or beasts? What about the creature last night, out in the fog, stalking the tree line? And what about those teeth, those claws….and those golden eyes—

“You have the mark of a demon.”

“Pardon me?” I turn around in shock as Madam Hwasa floats into the room behind me silently. I hadn’t even heard the curtains flutter or the floorboards. She has a cream colored garment with gold and silver gemstones in a dazzling display which swirl and cascade down the luxurious fabric. Since I’ve been here before, she knows my measurements and with her skill I doubt she’ll need any adjusting as she is excellent with her craft.

“The mark of a demon is there,” she raises a beautiful, long finger to the middle of my back, “in between your shoulder blades.”

I look down sheepishly. This is the bane of my existence, this off-colored mark that stains my skin. My mother had it too. She said it was good fortune —in the shape of tiny bird wings. Yet another thing of my skin that isn’t mine but, in fact, belongs to someone else. “Tis’ only but a birthmark, ma'am.” I mumble.

“I never noticed before.” She almost snickers. “And your clothes are filthy! You smell like those mutts!” She snaps her fingers and I place my arms straight above my head.

“Pardon me, ma’am?” I stammer as she wastes no time throwing the heavy ballgown over your shoulders. It had no sleeves and showed off my whole collarbone and the top of my chest. My eyes pop open. This was quite a daring garment, but it was beautiful, with the crystals placed so delicately and perfectly, it hugged my torso until the middle of my rib cage, fanning out in lush plumes of fabric—I looked like a fallen star. “Madam, I am sorry? I do not touch the hunting dogs per the princes’ requests—“

“You are a foolish girl if you cannot figure out what your dreams are and what I am telling you.” She snides as she ties me into the dress. Dreams? Demons? That’s twice today each has been mentioned. My tongue runs dry.

I was not only astonished by how I looked but by how Madam Hwasa was speaking to me.

Madam Hwasa clicks her tongue as she stalks me in a circle, eyes running up and down my body. “Watch out for those wolf boys. They are going to gobble you up.” Her eyes narrow, her stare catching mine like blazing fire. I am not sure she approves of what she is seeing though her fixation gives me a sense that she is challenging me.

“Madam, you are frightening me.” I whisper as I notice I was trembling. Was it anger or terror? Mortification or loathing? I wasn’t quite sure. Another woman had never spoken to me in such a manner, so direct, so merciless. “I need to go.” I look at myself in the mirror and my ducts are pricked with tears, my arms limp at my sides.

“My apologies Lady Y/N.” She clicks her tongue once more and pulls her long gaze away from mine. “You are going to be a beautiful, dangerous creature when you bloom into your full potential.”

I haven’t a clue what she means and my face twists in shock.

She calls Paisley in and they reformat me back in my original frocks and skirts. Under Madam Hwasa’s cold stare and long fingers, I feel more exposed now than when I was in that dress or standing in my undergarments. Madam Hwasa packs my ballgown and hands it to Paisley who share the unit exchange of fingers slinging over one another and long eyelashes fluttering and mouths curling up in shy smiles in the afternoon sun.

Maybe I am a demon for I don’t believe anything like that will ever happen to me. I am a burden and an annoyance. To my mother, my father, my brothers, and now the princes I live with.

Prince Seokjin steps out of the carriage and escorts Paisley and I back inside as we are whisked away from the dressmakers shop. She waves as we drive off, I see her as I am facing backwards. A cat-like grin spreads across her lips and I swear her sad eyes suddenly flash a brilliant green-yellow color.

“How did you like your outfit for the ball? Was it to your liking?” The princes asks like an eager puppy would, wide eyed and excited.

“It was very marvelous, indeed. Thank you for such a lovely dress, your majesty.” I replied in earnest because I truly felt that way.

“Nothing but the best for our little bird.” I flush at his words and Paisley looks at me out of the corner of her eye and I try not to be smitten lava with his nickname for me.

I have an uneasy feeling as Seokjin prompts Jongbak to stop for a stroll at the park in the middle of town. The park is massive and reminds me of paintings and books as it looks like it shouldn’t belong in the middle of town. There is a crystal clear river that runs through, with exquisite bridges, intimate gazebos, and lush gardens to boot.

The eldest prince sticks out his elbow for me to take as we meander through the gardens. I take it and he carries me through the park. Paisley and Jongbak stay by the carriage, no chaperone needed in such a large, populated space.

I still feel like my stomach is in knots and I am having trouble finding the words, but Seokjin’s presence is calming me down. It is hard to feel unnerved with such a fine gentleman with me though. Prince Seokjin is tall, handsome, a great conversationalist, compassionate yet he has a wit and hilarity to him that makes him all the more charming. He was the full package and I would have loved to see him when he was but a young lad. Men bow and ladies curtsy when they see him; they light up like fireflies in June under a full moon when they come upon him. He greets everyone yet keeps conversation with me, smiling. His amber orbs sparkle when he tells a tasteful joke about a gentleman caravan and I give him my full laugh from my belly, though it is undignified for me to make such a noise.

“Pardon me, your highness!” I say breathlessly, still laughing at his nonsensical story as we come to the edge of a gorgeous bridge across the river. “My apologies for producing such boisterous noise!”

“Do not fret.” He simpers down at me, the shadow from his top hat blocking the brilliant sun. “Little bird, my favorite part of my day is when I get to see you smile. You are unraveling more and more every day.”

Immediately my cheeks blaze at his words and his stare.

I remember the look Paisley and Jongbak share and for one fleeting moment, I could have sworn he looked at me with half-lidded bedroom eyes.

“Your majesty, good afternoon.” Voices like silk and honey call behind us.

I turn, breaking the hold I had on Seokjin as the prince almost stands in front of me. “Good day, ladies of Twiceland.” Nine beautiful goddess-like women in brilliant colored dresses simper, glowering down at us as they make their descent on the bridge.

“Where is your pack?” A tall one questions in blue. “Your wild and untamed brothers?”

“What brings you to our kingdom?” Seokjin ignores her being as polite as he can, though his tone is short and curt.

“Is this your ward?” One with doe-eyes and a bright pink smock coos at me. They snicker as I introduce myself much to Prince Seokjin’s dismay.

“Yes, indeed. She is a guest of Clan Bangtan and will be treated as such.” Prince Seokjin is seeming to lose his cool with these vibrant women and I can see why. They are relentless. “If you will excuse us, we were just leaving; on our way home for dinner.”

“Careful, Lady Y/N.” One with a square jaw and short hair giggles as Seokjin takes my arm as lightly as possible, ushering me away from these strange women with haste. “Be wary of beasts such as canines!” They cackle as we rush away, returning to the carriage in a strained silence that has not happened to me since my arrival in this kingdom.

My head is dizzy and my breath is coming out in short bursts. I look at Prince Seokjin and he looks like he is absolutely seething. His aura is dark, nasty hornets shaken and enclosed in a glass container.

As we make our way home, the sun setting, casting the land in a luscious orange and yellow. The castle is far from the town, rich, thick wood surrounds the grounds, encasing the large mansion in its own halo of trees and thickets. glow I hear the call of a lonesome wolf. Fear pricks at my heart and I clutch my skirts. “Everyone keeps mentioning dogs and wolves to me, your majesty. It is frightening to me.” I open once more to the prince who looks startled across from me.

I know I can trust him, I feel it in my marrow and sinew. With my whole beating heart and fizzing brain I know I can trust Seokjin.

“Little bird.” Concern colors his tone as he gingerly places his large, warm hand over mine. “Canines, specifically wolves, is our family animal.” He taps the metal wolf on his chest. “It is our crest. Canines have been intertwined for thousands of years with the family members of Bangtan. If someone says something about dogs or wolves, they are referring to us as a form of insult.”

I nod my head. That does make sense I suppose.

“Nothing will ever harm you.” He gently squeezes my hand. “I promise you. All seven of us will do everything in our power to keep you safe.”

I say nothing but give him a wry smile in which he returns with a beautiful smile that makes my heart throb, trapped in my chest.

——-

I did not go to dinner. I need to apologize to her earnestly. My outburst was childish and uncalled for. Hoseok and Yoongi reprimanded me, sparing in wolf form. Though I am the bigger out of the two, they always win. Pinning my neck just so. I shall be licking my wounds, physically and emotionally, for a long while. It wasn’t right. I let my emotions win like the terror I am. I am more calm than this. I chastise myself as I emerge from the wood. But still….I cannot help the way I feel!

My mind wanders to her lashes, her voice, the way she is soft, yet powerful. She is full of potential, a most excellent queen if she only opened her eyes a little more. Does she see that we hang on her every whim? Her every desire? If only she just picks one of us…What we wouldn’t do for her…

I find her in my study an hour after dinner should have dispersed. She has fallen asleep reading a book about wolves in my favorite red velvet armchair. I give a soft snort as I stalk closer to her quietly as not to disturb her. Her chest softly rises and falls, her cheeks flushed with sleep.

Stooping down, I inhale her scent from the top of her head. Fresh elderberry and sunflower. How badly I want to mark her. How badly I want to rub my face against her neck, tilting her head back, watching her gasp, swallowing saliva down her throat, and scent her vulnerable jugular. My amber eyes lock into her flesh as her head was tilted to the side, exposing her veins. What would it feel like? To run my lips across her flesh, feeling her pulse throb, the sharp inhale of her nostrils, the moan that escapes her breathless lips…

What would it feel like to sink his sharp wolf fangs into her, feeling the life drain from her? The blood ooze from the puncture wounds, her organs fail trapped inside her withering, frail body? To see the light leave her eyes?

Enough with these thoughts.

I scoop her up swiftly as if she was but a babe or a rag-doll and take her to her room, calling upon the maid named Paisley to undress her and prepare her for slumber.

His ears prick as she stirs. “Thank you, Namjoon.” She mumbles quietly. I don’t say a word. I shed my human form once I get to the edge of the wood. I give a cry to let the others know I will not be back this eve and only Jungkook responds.

Hyung, be safe.

It is not him the brothers should be worried about. The thing they need to worry about is safe in the castle—for the night.

———-

In my dreams that night, I am led by seven different colored wolves to a brightly colored carousel. The wolves are all friendly, large, and each smelt rather different from each other. Their fur is soft and exquisite, I run my hands across the canines as they rub their heads against mine. In my wonder, I wish to ride them, but I refrain. Their amber eyes glow with knowledge behind them and they grin wolffish, cunning smiles, revealing their sparkling, pearly fangs. They whine and pant and yip as they lead me up to the shimmering, merry fair ride in the middle of the wood.

They each jump on the slow moving platform, following some pattern, transforming into seven men in waist jackets, complete with top hats and masquerade masks upon their faces. I can’t help but feel like I know them. They call you with their howls, beckoning me with items in their hands: books, foods, flowers, sheet music, paintings, dancing shoes, and gloves. Do I know them like this? Do I want to?

Everything echoes in this space. I suddenly feel like I am suffocating, it is hard to breathe as they try to pull me onto the platform, but I pull away. I made a mistake and I need to flee. I am in danger.

I turn to go. The wolf men growl in warning and I freeze. My blood is ice, my pulse is in my ears, and I feel the seven sets of eyes upon me like they are going to gobble me up. I am prey!

WE WILL KEEP YOU SAFE. YOU ARE OURS. YOU ARE MINE! They cry in unison, an awful noise like they are wounded, shot animals.

The wolf-men lunge at me, their bodies piling on top of me, covering me as they growl and whine and snarl. Gnashing teeth and hungry claws tear me limb from limb as they pull me apart, ripping the pink muscles away under my flesh. My blood is pooling around me as I lie paralyzed in my own sticky, red mess or hair and skin, and organs.

A scream rips through my throat.

Two large, amber eyes glimmer at me from the end of my bed as a giant black wolf lays near my feet, its head slightly cocked to the side, its ears perked at attention. I faint from the frightening sight and my mind plummets back into darkness once more.

———

Part Two And A Half l Part Four

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