#why is she more special that him? hes a werewolf

[luci-hemwin-evanson]

No way IN HELL im paying Paramount to watch them end Stydia and bring back fckng Scallison when Scott had a gf he left on the dessert and that was doing way more interesting things and would be a better plot than bringing back the death and do a horrible remake of season 3 or whatever the movie is about

No Theo, no Stiles, no Kira, no Corey, no Isaac and no Stydia? Thanks but its sht and i dont want it

[empress-simps]

Missed Hints

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem! Reader CW: Language Genre: Fluff Summary: Remus Lupin wanted to make his feelings known; he is trying numerous ways to tell you, but you are simply quite oblivious to the poor boy’s advances.

Note: Am I a bit too obsessed with Rems? Probably. This one's a bit shorter than the rest. Enjoy reading! Pictures used are from Pinterest, credits to the owners!

Sometimes, all Remus wanted to do was run into a wall to knock himself out.

Maybe it’ll help formulate a reason why you couldn’t pick up his signals and actions that he wants to be more than friends. Please cut this poor boy some slack; he’s literally done everything he could to hint that he likes you.

The problem is that you are quite oblivious- being as dense as the castle walls in Hogwarts. Although this hasn’t stopped Remus from pursuing you after several pitiful (also quite funny) attempts, if anything, it made him work even harder to let you know he fancies you.

“Y/n, wait up!” Remus calls out to you, leaving his mates, who were whispering words of encouragement and ‘good luck’ to him. Hearing your name made you turn around, a book in your hand, as you smiled at the taller boy. “Remus, hi!” He smiled, walking beside you and settling in at the same pace as you. Suddenly, a friend of yours piped up, “Y/n, we have to go get something in the dorms; stay with Remus, yeah?” before you could even reply, they were rushing to leave. Remus could only blush as your friends shot him a thumbs up before escaping the scene, trying to stop the giggles escaping their mouths.

It was all up to him now.

“Erm, so how were the holidays?” he asked, trying to act casually as he placed his hands in his pockets. The question made you hum, your eyes lit up. "Oh, it was wonderful! We spent the holidays in Canada, lots of snow, I made a snow man and visited some parks.” She nods, holding her book closer to her chest, seemingly lost in thought. “It was also freezing.” Remus hums in agreement. “Is that so? I’m glad you had fun.” He smiles, and you both walk towards the great hall to have dinner.

You looked up at him with a bright smile and said, “Tell me about yours, Rems! I’m sure it was also fun.” Remus blushed, hearing his nickname roll off your tongue so casually. Even after all the years you’ve known each other, simply calling him by his nickname that you specially made for him has an effect that never faded away. “Well, it was just simple, really. I just stayed at James’ and had fun.” He shrugged his shoulders, smiling at you. He could care less about his holiday shenanigans, preferring you just talk his ear off about every little thing you did, he will absorb what you say word by word, like a sponge.

 "Well, James is quite an interesting person.” She hummed in agreement, Remus felt his eyebrow twitch, a small twinge similar to jealousy creeping up into him. What about him? Do you think he’s interesting too? Was Remus someone who could be worthy of your time?

 “Yeah, that bloke was conjuring up some pranks to pull this year.”

You let out a small giggle and oh merlin please take the poor boy to Madame Pomfrey because he thinks his poor heart can’t handle all the feelings he has towards you. Remus Lupin is such a simp.

He clears his throat, trying to muster up some courage as he asks you the million-galleon question. “So, are you free tomorrow? It’s Hogsmeade day.” Remus smiles, thankfully, his clammy hands are kept under his pockets, making his nervousness almost unnoticeable. Your eyes lit up “Oh! I forgot, but yes, I am free tomorrow.” Remus saw his chance and took it. “Great, how about we hang out in Three Broomsticks?”

For Merlin’s sake, please make this turn into Lupin’s favor. He’s done too many ways to confess to your clueless self.

“That would be fantastic! I can bring my friends along, and you can bring James, Sirius, and Peter too!” you clapped your hands excitedly, not noticing how the werewolf visibly deflated as you exclaimed. Right, might as well reject him right now on the spot to end his misery.

He could probably shout “I love you” and stare at you directly- but you’ll just think he’s talking to someone behind you. Remus had also tried to pass you a note containing his feelings for you back then. Grabbing it without much of a thought, you passed it to your friend, thinking he wants you to give it to her, who shakes her head and sighs, looking at Remus.

The rest of the Marauders and your friends think Remus’s plans of confessing to you were a lost cause.

“Our poor Moony…” Peter frowns, as James shakes his head. “At this point, Moony should just kiss her.” Sirius sighed, feeling pity for his friend. “She would probably think it was a friendly kiss.” Peter snorts, trying to control his laughter, James glared at Sirius jokingly before pushing him. “Bugger off Pads, Y/N’s just… super innocent? I guess.” They resumed watching the two from a distance, a look of anticipation evident in their faces.

“I was kind of hoping it’ll be just us?” Remus grins nervously, sitting beside you as you reach the Gryffindor table. You took a bite out of the apple pie from your plate before replying, “Sure, it’ll still be fun. You’re a great company, Rems.” She smiles, before resuming on eating the remaining apple pie slice. Little do you know the simple compliment you made had a tremendous effect on Remus.

“Moony, your smile hasn’t left your face ever since Y/n agreed. Stop it, I’m getting scared.” Sirius states, Remus turns to look, a hint of a small dopey smile on his face. “Hm?”

“Oh merlin, Y/n broke him.” Peter blanches. They were smacked upside their heads lightly by James. “Come on now, don’t rain on his parade. Moon’s just… well- over the moon.” James laughs lightly, Sirius snorts while Peter tries to hide his smile. Remus rolled his eyes playfully, opening his trunk to pick out the clothes he’s going to wear tomorrow. “Whatever, now help me decide what to wear, you sods.”

“Rems! Over here!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes, arms up and waving in his directions. Remus smiles, maneuvering through the line of students waiting to get out of Hogwarts and to Hogsmeade. “Y/n! you look… pretty.” He blushes, drinking in the sight of you. Remus could swear on his life that he saw a light shade of pink dust your cheek as you tucked a stray hair behind your ear.

“Thank you, I like your sweater. It suits you.” You said, eyes going over his body and one of Remus’s signature sweaters. You can’t deny it; you like what you see, you were pulled from your thoughts when someone spoke.

“Oi! Get a move on you half-blood and goody-two-shoes! Holding up the bloody line is what you’re doing!” Evan Rosier, a Slytherin student complained a few feet away from you and Remus, Mulciber and Dolohov backs their fellow Slytherin and friend up. He snarls, those blokes, looks like they’ll have a new target for one of their nasty pranks.

“If I were you, I would shut my mouth.” Remus warns, standing in front of you, blocking your frame from their view.

Evan raised one eyebrow, amusement swimming in his eyes. “What are you going to do? Pesky little Gryffindor like you are always running around trying to be brave.” He taunts, moving closer to their direction.

“Rems, I’m fine. Let’s go, yeah?” She gently tugs the sleeve of his sweater, he looks down at you, his expression softening. “Alright then.” He threw one last warning look at Rosier over his shoulder; that punk needs to just wait and see what’s going to come and bite his ass.

The two of you are sitting in the Three Broomsticks, talking about basically anything under the sun. Well, you mostly talked while Remus just listens, humming and sometimes sharing his two cents on the topic you are on.

“Rems, thank you.”

Remus’ eyebrows shot up in confusion, “Thank you? What for?”

“Earlier, Evan Rosier.”

“Ah, that prick. It was nothing, y/n.” He offers a gentle smile; he wants to touch your hand that was directly across his from the table but ultimately deciding against it, the last thing he wants to do is make you feel uncomfortable.

“Thank you for being my friend. You’re an amazing person who deserves the world.” She smiles, slowly taking his hand onto hers and squeezing it tightly.

He felt a crack in his heart. “Yeah, you are too.” He managed to choke out, offering a wry smile.

Friends. Is that it? Is he just one of the many friends you have in your life? Is he a friend that will slowly drift away after you graduate from Hogwarts? Merlin, he would even count himself lucky if you invited him to be at your wedding, and if he wants to push his luck then he might even be the godfather to one of your future kids.

You furrowed your brows, “Is there something wrong, Rems?” He looks at you, quickly shaking his head. “Nothing’s wrong. Why do you ask?” You hummed, “Well, you have this kind of haunted look on you when you’re bothered about something; you’re doing it right now.”

Remus blinks, even he himself wasn’t aware of that. He closed his eyes and sighed; fuck it. He’ll push his luck to the extremes by confessing his love for you. Doesn’t matter if you see him as just a friend, you deserve to know.

“Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

“Of course. What would that be?”

“Well, I don’t know how to tell you this without being upfront about it…” He starts, you urged him to continue; well, here goes nothing.

“Y/n, I-“

“Two butterbeers, correct?”

Remus wants to pull his hair out of frustration as the server walked towards them and set down the butterbeers they ordered, interrupting his speech. You smiled, thanking them before turning to Remus, who was frowning.

“What was it you were trying to say, Rems?” You asked, sipping your butterbeer.

“I like you, a lot. Ever since we met.” He simply blurts out quickly, as if he’s scared someone is going to interrupt again. You blink slowly, setting your butterbeer down gently.

“I like you too, Remus.”

“No- you don’t understand,” He shakes his head as you furrowed your eyebrows, utterly confused.

“I fancy you, love.” He emphasizes, taking both of your hands into his large ones, looking at you straight in the eyes, completely serious. She widens her eyes ever so slightly, her heart rate speeding up a bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I’ve always fancied you too, Rems.”

Remus felt as if the time slowed down, his heartbeat pulsing faster, eyes blinking owlishly, his jaw slack in shock.

Did he hear that right? Please tell him that he heard that right.

“I-I… I gave you hints, love!” He sputtered, “But you’ve just ignored them every single time!” She frowns, “I didn’t notice…” Remus agreed, “Forgive me, but you were quite oblivious.” A small smile was on his face.

“You could’ve just said outright that you fancy me, Rems.” She chuckles, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“If you like me too, then why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to force you.” She said, looking at the beverage in her hand. His eyes softened, “Force me? To what, love?”

She sighs, looking up at him. “I didn’t want you to force yourself to try to love me just because I feel that way for you.”  Before Remus could even speak, she opened her mouth again, “I know you, Remus. You would’ve tried either way, that’s just who you are.” She chuckles, sipping butterbeer before continuing.

“You have a heart of gold, Rems. That’s one of the things I love about you.” She rubs her thumb across his scarred knuckles gently. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, the simple and gentle touch made his spine shiver.

If this was some kind of dream, then he would be more than happy to not wake up.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathes out, making you giggle. You stood up from your seat and leaned towards him, you can feel and smell his peppermint toothpaste fanning against your lips, beckoning you closer.

“You don’t even have to ask.” You closed the distance between you and sealed both of your lips with a kiss.

[illyrianbitch]

One Summer — Part Six

Pairing: Reader x Azriel

Summary: One beach house. One festival. One summer to fall in love.

Warnings: drug usage/mentions as usual, alcohol, mor/feyre/reader being fashion icons, reader & az being 'just friends', drunk girl bonding, reader being a sentimentalist and loving her friends

Word Count: 5.4k

Previous Part | Series Masterlist | Next Part

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There was a cramp in your stomach from laughing so hard— a pain made worse by the fact that Mor’s roughly concocted mimosas fueled the hilarity of every comment. She and Feyre were in stitches beside you, their snickers echoing off the walls as you all made your way down the stairs. It had taken a while, but you were finally ready to head out for the last day of Summit. The boys had been waiting with increasing impatience.

As you rounded the corner into the kitchen, Cassian looked up with a start, his hand paused mid-air, spoon halfway to his mouth. He choked as he took in the sight before him, his eyes widening in disbelief.

“What the hell do those say?” Cassian coughed, pressing his hand over his mouth as he swallowed hard. He stood up from his seat, and you bit back a laugh.

You three had been adamant about making your last day truly memorable. Somehow that had turned into throwing out any pretenses of looking cute or trendy. Instead, you three wanted something more sophisticated, outfits that showed your maturity. You’d each chosen special shirts for one another. 

Yours was a white tee with bold, unapologetic text: “I made your dad a bottom.” Mor’s shirt was a masterpiece of absurdity. She’d cut it into a sleeveless, oversized fit that hung off her frame with casual abandon. The front featured a stock photo of a muscular, awkwardly posed werewolf figure with the caption “Human by chance, alpha by choice” scrawled underneath in an ill-advised font. Feyre’s was also a true work of art. She'd played pretend offend for all of three seconds when she'd first seen it, giggling about how true it was. Her shirt boasted a crudely drawn frog holding a paintbrush, paired with the words “Dyslexic with tig bits.”

You exchanged grins with your best friends. 

"Aren't you gonna tell us how good we look?" Mor asked, placing a hand on her hip. She gave him a look of impatience, as if the time running by without her compliment was getting on her nerves. 

"I-" Cassian ran a hand across his mouth, tracing his mustache with extra care once he noticed her budding scowl. "Rhys! Az!"

The two boys emerged almost instantly, their mouths falling open in amusement as their eyes scanned the shirts. Rhys was the first to react, his face lighting up with a wide grin as he let out a low whistle.

“Pretty privilege lets you guys get away with way too many things,” he mused, his attention fixed entirely on Feyre as he approached her. He gently took her hand, guiding her into a dainty twirl to showcase her outfit.

Your gaze shifted to Az, who leaned casually against the wall, amusement dancing in his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest. Mimicking his pose, you crossed your arms defensively. He shook his head, pushing off the wall and strolling towards you.

“Well, don’t cover up the art like that,” he said, glancing at your crossed arms. “I was enjoying it.”

You blushed, letting out a snort as you dropped your arms, gesturing dramatically to the shirt. Az’s eyes glimmered as he reached forward, his fingers lightly brushing the edges of the fabric. “Why this one?”

“Mor chose it for me,” you replied, your breath catching slightly. Azriel nodded in approval.

“Fitting.”

Cassian, now fully recovered, let out a hearty laugh. “Well, I’m feeling left out. You all look—” he paused for dramatic effect, “—exceptionally unique.”

“Good answer,” Mor said with a satisfied nod. She wrapped an arm around you, pulling you along with her as she walked towards the kitchen. “And isn’t the idea of dommy Y/N so hot?”

You groaned, your face flushing red as she giggled beside you. For the tenth time that morning, you begged her to stop using such a strange title. Her laughter only grew louder.

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The merch line was long, but you didn’t mind waiting; the day was cooler, the sun less blistering than it had been, and the thought of having a physical memento from the weekend was comforting. Az had volunteered to keep you company while the others leisurely watched a smaller set on the schedule. There was an ease to this moment, the kind that settled in when time stretched out.

Azriel turned his head to look at you. His eyes scanned your figure and a second later he was shaking his head, looking away as a laugh left his lips. Your heart skipped a beat. Az’s laugh was something you coveted, a sound you’d become addicted to over time.

You waited until his eyes reached yours again to raise your eyebrow. "What?"

"That fuckin' shirt," Az replied. "I just can't get over it."

You grinned, nudging him with your shoulder as the line moved forward. "Don't judge. It's been a chick and dick magnet."

It was true. You'd gotten more compliments on your shirt than you'd ever received in your entire life— at least, drunk you seemed to think so. God, you needed to wear this outfit more often.

Azriel shook his head again, offering up his hands in surrender. "No judgment here," he said. He scanned you again, eyes glowing with a sense of contemplation. He pulled his cap off his head and placed it on yours. You tracked his movements with your eyes, watching as he took a step backwards and admired you as if he'd just created a masterpiece.

"Perfect."

It was an effort not to beam at the word alone, at how it seemed to anchor itself in your chest, resonating with a deeper meaning you were too embarrassed to fully acknowledge. You cleared your throat, ignoring the warmth that rolled through your body, surely collecting on your reddening cheeks. You placed your hands on your hips. 

"I look good?"

Azriel let out a small hiccup, a smile spreading across his face. "Oh yeah," he said, reclaiming his spot next to you in a few, easy strides. "You look like every dude in Rhys's frat."

Your smile fell. You attempted to give him a glare, to scowl, but Azriel's proud grin pulled a laugh from deep in your chest. "You said it looked good."

Az's smile curved, deepening into the crevasses of his cheeks. "And I meant it, you look great. Stunning."

There it was, that feeling again— that giddiness that left you fumbling for words. Something warm and silly spread throughout your chest. For a moment, you struggled to respond, fumbling through your mind to put together a coherent sentence. It was proving hard, so incredibly hard, when Az was looking at you the way he was.

"I didn't know frat boys were your type."

Azriel shrugged. "I didn't either. Guess we're both learning new things."

You playfully smacked him with your hand and reached up to remove his cap from your head. He shook his head, taking it back to adjust the band with nimble fingers. You watched him, noting the slight tremble as he refitted it to your head.

“You keep this,” Azriel said, securing it on you again. “It looks better on you anyway.”

You swallowed, fingertips brushing the brim. “Careful, Az. It might sound like you’re flirting with me or something.”

Azriel stared at you for a moment. His gaze was steady, searching. Do friends look at friends this way? Was it wrong to crave his gaze so deeply?

"What can I say," Az finally replied. The line moved forward. "I guess I just can't resist the pull of a frat guy."

Azriel brushed his palmalong the small of your back to guide you forward. The warmth of his touch lingered long after he removed his hand.

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You weren't sure how much time had passed since Az left to go put all of the merch in the car. His instructions to you had been clear: stay in the same area so he could find you when he came back in. When he'd left, there was still around an hour until you'd meet back up with Mor, Feyre, Cass and Rhys. 

But Azriel's instructions left your mind the minute he was out of view. You'd reached that perfect point of being slightly crossed—mostly drunk, but not dangerously so— and everything felt vibrant. Alive. It made no sense to stand still or sit in a patch of grass and wait for Az to return like a sad codependent dog and its owner. No, that wouldn't do.

So you wandered, finding yourself by the food trucks, a new fruity drink in your hand. Non-alcoholic and entirely too expensive for its small size, but money didn't seem real to you. There was a large smile on your face as you weaved through the small crowds. You'd made around six new friends, random people you began talking to in line, those equally as drunk who voiced their love for your outfit. 

You barely registered when you bumped into a girl, the drink in your hand sloshing a bit. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” A soft voice exclaimed. You brought your attention to her face, taking in her long brown hair as she wiped a drop from her shirt. You were about to apologize then too, but then her eyes met yours. Something sparked in them. They widened, the brown glowing almost, and she beamed. 

“I know you!”

You stilled. “You do?” There was something familiar about her but you couldn’t quite place it. The smile especially. Something warm and friendly. 

“Yes!” she nodded eagerly. She grabbed the arm of a person next to her, pulling them into the conversation. Deep blue eyes and sandy brown hair. 

“Babe," the girl said, "This is the girl from yesterday!"

A look of realization formed on her partner's face. She turned to you again. "I was just telling them earlier about you. I took your picture yesterday."

They nodded, a small chuckle leaving their lips as they took a sip of their shared drink. "She was," they said, "The pretty girl with the boyfriend who had a sick wing tattoo.”

You blinked. Maybe you were feeling a bit slow today, a bit lethargic, or maybe you were a bit too gone to carry such a fast conversation. You let their words sink in, allowing your face to blossom into a smile. You recognized her face now, remembering the sweet approach she'd had to you and Az. The picture you now cherished so deeply. Your cheeks warmed. 

 “Oh, uh. He's not my boyfriend.”

The girl stilled. A sense of surprise flickered across her face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you laughed lightly, “just friends.”

She exchanged a look with her partner, a silent conversation passing between them, and then turned back to you with an intrigued expression, eyes slightly narrowed, lips still curved at the edges. 

"Really?" She repeated, as if her question would pull a different answer, one that may have satisfied her more. 

You gave a sheepish smile, shrugging your shoulders. You suddenly felt entirely too vulnerable, embarrassed in a way you hadn't felt since you were a child in kindergarten. She exchanged another look with her partner. 

“Does he know that?” They said. 

You shifted awkwardly, the heat rising in your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, it's kinda weird, though. I don't know...” You trailed off, feeling the words slipping away from you. It was hard to articulate when your mind was so pleasantly hazy. You hesitated, then added with a chuckle, “It’s a long story.”

They both nodded. The girl looked at her partner before turning back to you. She grinned and shrugged, her eyes bright with curiosity. “Well, if you have the time, so do we.”

You furrowed your brows. She leaned in closer, like a best friend about to share a secret, and whispered conspiratorially, “I love a good storytime.”

And so, you found yourself sitting on a patch of grass, with Victoria and Jamie, as you learned their names to be, a band playing distantly on the stage nearby. The entire history spilled from your lips like uncontrollable bile, as if you were drafting a biography and starting it from the moment you met Feyre—because that’s when it truly all started. Almost four years ago, you realized.

You talked about freshman year, about your introductory philosophy class, your friendship with Az that blossomed into this deep, heavy crush. You told them about that almost-kiss, the one that lingered in your memory like a bittersweet stain, and even about your relationship with Eris. 

Victoria's drink was empty by the time you’d finished and the sun had dipped ever-so-slightly in the sky, now painting the festival in golden hues. 

 “Wow,” Victoria said, exchanging a meaningful look with Jamie before turning back to you.

You felt a twinge of embarrassment. “I talked too much, didn't I?"  

“Not at all! That was incredibly entertaining. Felt like the plot to some kind of romcom,” she said, laughing lightly. Jamie nodded in agreement. You felt heat rush to your cheeks.

“So… what’s holding you back?” Victoria asked, tilting her head slightly as she studied your face. You opened your mouth to respond, but she quickly interjected, “And do not say it’s because you’re not sure he feels the same. You’re wearing his hat.”

You offered a sheepish smile, bringing your fingers up to trace the brim of Azriel’s cap, still securely placed on your head. You’d almost forgotten he’d put it there. It made sense now, why your face didn’t feel as burnt as usual. It also felt silly to admit that it was a worry of yours--- that maybe Az didn't see anything romantic with you the way he once did, that maybe these small moments were doused in a platonic love, like that from Cass and Rhys, and you had deluded yourself into thinking too deeply about them. 

You shrugged, a small, helpless gesture. “It’s more complicated than that,” you mumbled, but your words felt hollow even to your own ears.

Jamie leaned forward, their gaze sharp and inquisitive. You resisted the urge to draw back at the eye contact, at how their blue eyes seemed to be reading you. They casted a glance at Victoria.

“Is it because of your ex-boyfriend?"

"What?" You frowned, letting your shoulders sag as the words ran through you. "What do you mean?"

They shrugged, sharing another glance with Victoria.

"You mentioned him a lot. And you said they all had a past. Maybe it’s some kind of guilt?”

Your eyes widened as you considered the possibility, the weight of it settling heavily in your chest. You hadn’t consciously connected the two, the strange anxiety and guilt that had bubbled throughout the week. But now that it had been mentioned, acknowledged by someone other than yourself, the thought lingered, a seed of doubt taking root.

Maybe they were right; maybe you’d been letting guilt hold you back from pursuing what you truly wanted. That extended to things far beyond the way you felt for Az. The truth was, you did feel guilty. You'd lost time with your friends when you and Eris dated. It was part of the reason why you felt even worse for not wanting to move with Mor— because you didn't want to disappoint her another time, to make her feel like you were choosing something else over her.

And there was Azriel. Azriel, Azriel, Azriel. Where was he anyways? You should go find him. Surely it's been too long. Were you spending too much time with him? Should you be at Mor's hip instead?  Your thoughts started swirling faster, more compounded and harder to process. 

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it that way,” you admitted, your voice quiet. "Maybe that's it."

Why was it so easy to be more honest to complete strangers than to yourself? Such a strange thing, you thought, as Victoria watched you carefully. Her eyes softened with understanding. There was a moment of silence before Jamie smiled encouragingly, gently placing a hand on her thigh. 

“I think Vi has something to show you.”

"Oh, right! I do." She beamed, eyes lighting up with excitement. She pulled out her phone and a few seconds later, she was holding it out to you, a photo on the screen. "This was why I was so glad to run into you."

The photo was taken the day before, during the set where Victoria had taken that picture of you and Azriel. This one was from behind, capturing Azriel’s arm resting naturally around your waist as you both watched the band. The sight stirred something deep within you. You felt a smile tug at your lips as you remembered how that moment had felt—comfortable, right, as if the world outside had fallen away, leaving just the two of you.

When you met her eyes again, Victoria grinned, clearly delighted by your reaction. “Watch the live,” she said, offering you her phone to hold in your own hands.

You listened, gently taking it and pressing down on the photo. It showed you looking away from Az, a soft smile on your face, and then, right after, Az looking down at you with an expression just as soft, one that you felt deeply in your chest. You let it replay a couple of times.

No wonder Victoria had assumed you and Az were together, had complimented you like a couple, told her partner about you both. If you were an outsider watching this moment, you’d think you were a couple too—so natural, so connected. What could be, if only you were brave enough to reach for it.

Victoria’s voice pulled you back. “It was fate that I ran into you again. The picture was so cute I was tempted to post it somewhere in hopes it got to you.”

Her words made you smile and you glanced at Jamie. The way they looked at her, with such tenderness and affection, was like something out of a fairy tale. It made your heart ache, longing for something similar. Azriel's laugh echoed faintly in your head. 

Jamie caught your gaze and nodded toward the phone in Victoria’s hand. “Friends don’t look at friends that way,” they said, their grin slightly teasing but gentle all the same. “Just so you know.”

Victoria sighed wistfully, leaning into Jamie as they wrapped an arm around her. "You know what I think?" You raised a brow, inviting her to continue. Her face softened as she met your gaze. "You should tell him how you feel."

You sighed, looking down at the ground. Admitting you felt something for Azriel could change the dynamic between you. And not only that, but the dynamic between you and everyone else. You liked where everything was at now. You didn’t want to ruin it.

“It’s just not that simple.”

“No one said it would be,” She said gently. She looked up at Jamie, her eyes shining a bit brighter than seconds before. “But sometimes, the best things aren’t.”

You had given Az similar advice the day before—urging him to chase his dreams and not confine himself to limitations. The irony of those very words being directed back at you now, especially about him, made you want to laugh. It felt oddly fitting and full-circle. Maybe you could write a paper about it. 

Jamie tangled their fingers in Victoria’s hair. They nodded in agreement, giving you a look that said: Listen to her. She's right. 

Victoria seemed to catch your hesitation and she called your attention with a gentle murmur of your name. "I'm serious," she said. "The regret of not trying will probably be much stronger than any guilt you feel now."

You smiled to yourself, picking at the grass around you and feeling the blades between your fingers. You looked at them again, amused at how your day had led you to this insightful couple and some much-needed time to spill your guts.

"You guys are so wise," you said with a small chuckle. "Y'know that?"

"It's these fucking spiked lemonades," she replied, lifting up her empty can. "They give me a fifth sense."

Jamie chuckled next to her. They patted her head gently. "Sixth."

"Huh?" She said, turning her head to look at them. 

"Sixth sense, babe," they said. "You already have five senses."

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

Azriel had found you five minutes into your second conversation with Victoria and Jamie, his eyes wide and cheeks slightly red. He'd been looking for you for almost fifteen minutes, his countless calls having been sent to voicemail because your phone had been silenced. You'd apologized profusely, but Az had laughed it off, saying he was grateful that you had a shirt he could see from miles away and a hat he knew like the back of his hand. He greeted Jamie and Victoria, recognizing the latter almost immediately, and then jokingly thanked them for watching you while he was gone, making a joke that you were a wandering toddler with an affinity for shiny things.

Victoria shot you a knowing look as you both walked away.

You had a few more minutes before you were scheduled to meet the rest of the group, so you took the opportunity to enjoy the scene. You and Azriel wandered through the vibrant area of the festival where booths from local artists and craftspeople lined the grassy areas. The atmosphere was lively, filled with the hum of conversation and the occasional burst of music from nearby stages. With everything around you vying for your attention, your mind stayed tethered to the conversation with Jamie and Victoria.

You stopped when you spotted a photobooth nestled between two tables, a vintage looking thing advertising two strips of 5 photos for 12 bucks. A steep price, but something in you was drawn to it nonetheless.

You looked at Azriel with a grin. “Does the photographer feel like being photographed?

Az raised an eyebrow. “I feel like no matter what I say, you'll somehow convince me to do it anyways.”

You smiled wider, biting your lip to keep it from spreading too much. “You know me so well.”

The space was intimate, practically needing you both to sit atop of one another. You gently took his hat off, placing it in your lap as Azriel’s arm slipped comfortably around your shoulders, drawing you even closer. The gesture was casual, something he'd done countless times before, but it sent your pulse racing all the same.

Azriel’s smile was warm as he looked into the camera and you found yourself acutely aware of his presence, noting the smallest of details despite the camera's low quality. The curls on his head, the sharpness of his jaw, the way his eyes crinkled as he grinned. The smile on your face as the booth snapped its first picture was a result of staring at Az's reflection; your second smile came from the sound of his laugher, soft and genuine, filling the tiny space.

You reached out and gently cupped his cheek for one of the next poses, your fingers brushing against his skin. His expression softened. And then his fingers were grazing your hair, slowly tangling themselves by winding a strand around his finger.

As the fourth picture snapped, you noticed how he was looking at you—not at the camera, but at you. His gaze was steady and unwavering, filled with something you couldn’t quite name but felt in every fiber of your being. You turned to look at him, meeting his eyes with soft breath. 

Jamie’s voice echoed in your head, a distant but persistent echo. Friends don’t look at friends that way.

The space between you seemed to contract. You took a deep breath, feeling a familiar buzz of longing resurface. And suddenly, you were eighteen again, millimeters away from Az on that Halloween night. His eyes drifted to your lips.

Victoria’'s voice whispered next: The regret of not trying will probably be much stronger than any guilt you feel now.

Azriel leaned in, his eyes drifting shut as he brought his hand up to cradle your hair. Your breath hitched and you moved to close the distance, a sudden need filling your body. Azriel, your mind seemed to whisper, repeatedly like a prayer, Azriel Azriel, Azriel—

A sudden, blinding FLASH snapped you to reality. You both pulled back slightly, eyes wide, as the booth’s camera whirred to capture the memory you’d just almost shared. Azriel blinked, clearing his throat, and you scrambled to pull back the curtain, stepping into the blinding sunshine. 

You fumbled with your shirt, trying to smooth it down as though you'd been caught in some misstep. The words, I made your dad a bottom, mocked you boldly. Avoiding Azriel’s gaze, you stared at the ground as he handed you the strip of photos. Your hand brushed his briefly, lingering long enough to feel the warmth of his touch as you took the pictures.

You glanced at the photos, then looked up to find Azriel already staring at you. You opened your mouth to say something, but a familiar voice yelling your names cut you off. Mor and Cassian came sprinting towards you with wide smiles. You shoved the photo strip into your bag. 

You smiled, making an effort to focus on the story Cass was animatedly telling as he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you into his side. But your eyes kept drifting back to Azriel, who seemed just as lost in thought as you. 

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

You were a sentimentalist at your core. 

For as long as you could remember, you collected memories. You stored them away like treasures, delicate and fragile, saving them for rainy days when you'd wrap yourself in nostalgia like a warm blanket. You wanted everything to have meaning, for things to make sense in a world that often didn’t. Perhaps that’s what led you to study philosophy—a major that let you think too deeply about everything, that encouraged you to seek understanding to a point where nothing made sense.

The Stoics believed that the practice of virtue was enough to achieve eudaimonia, a well-lived life. As you stood in the grassy expanse, watching the lights dance across the night sky and feeling the music pulse through your veins, you thought that maybe this was what they meant. Maybe this was a well-lived life—being surrounded by the simple joy of being alive.

The sun had long set and the sky above was a blanket of deep indigo. You'd all chosen to enjoy the headliner and final performance from a distance, preferring the open space behind the throng rather than being swallowed by the crush of bodies near the stage. From your vantage point you watched the massive crowd sway in unison, a sea of bobbing heads and glowing sticks. Every now and then flashing neon lights would meet your eyes, causing you to squint at their power. 

You could see it all—the band on the huge screens, the ocean of people, and the world alive around you. Your arms were intertwined with Mor and Feyre's as you danced together, singing the songs at the top of your lungs. Mor pulled you both closer and you felt her laugh more than you heard it, a rumble through her body as she beamed into the endless night.

Feyre laughed, and you watched as her gaze fell elsewhere. She squeezed you both before bouncing towards Rhys, hair flying wild and free. He caught her easily, their bodies swaying in perfect harmony and you grinned at the way they fit so effortlessly together. You stored the image of their smiles away in your mind.

Mor pulled you towards her, bringing your cheeks between her palms. Her eyes were glowing with a mixture of happiness and the alcohol in her system as she grinned.  "I'm so glad you're here!"

The words ran through you, warming every corner of your body as you smiled back to her. Distantly, you could feel the tickle of tears behind your eyes--- the urge to cry from a strange mixture of love, happiness, and guilt. You let your mind focus on that love as your smile grew wider. 

"Me too," you responded loudly. "I love you."

Mor's eyes lit up even more as she squealed, pulling you into a quick hug as she repeated the words back to you, over and over. When you pulled away, you found Cassian next to you, his strong arms wrapping around both of you, drawing you into his orbit. He twirled you and you laughed, moving with him until your world was a dizzy blur of colors and lights. And when Cass moved to pull Mor, you paused for a moment, looking around the crowd. You weren't quite sure what you were searching for. But your heart seemed to be seeking it, some craving.

 A few steps away were Rhys and Feyre, their faces lit up with excitement as they sang animatedly to Azriel. You turned your attention to him, observing his genuine smile and the way he moved to the music. Despite the proximity of your bodies on the same patch of grass, in this fleeting instant, he seemed distant, absorbed in his own enjoyment--- and you watched it with a sense of admiration. Your gaze lingered on his lips.

The craving you once had—whatever it was you had been searching for—faded as he laughed. 

You gently pulled away from Mor and Cassian, stepping aside to watch your friends dance. The scene was too perfect to let slip away unrecorded, so you pulled out your phone and captured a bit of it. The quality would suck in the darkness, the figures mostly shadow with laser lights painting them in brief flashes of color, but you didn’t care. 

A bittersweet ache ran through you. You'd never have this moment again. And if you parted ways after graduation, you'd miss out on many more moments like this. When you looked back up, Az was approaching you. There was a smile on his face that matched the warmth in you, a sense of peace that paired perfectly with that tingling excitement that Az often made you feel.

He extended his hand towards you. "It's time to take your own advice.”

You looked at his outstretched hand, then up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. He didn't need to explain his words further. You knew exactly what he was referring to. Almost instantly, your mind traveled to the countless times you had urged him to embrace the moment, attempted to pull him out of his head. 

You let out a determined breath and grabbed his hand, intertwining your fingers with his as you pulled him back towards the group. Mor and Feyre had blended into a new group, singing along and laughing with their new friends. Meanwhile, Cassian and Rhys were dancing in a playful, almost mocking manner, with Cassian humorously mimicking the way Rhys and Feyre had been dancing closely.

You tugged Azriel into the midst of it all, letting him guide you into a light twirl. The music wrapped around you, the lights casting an ethereal glow over the jubilant crowd. The world narrowed into this experience--- to you and Az surrounded by your friends, to Mor singing the lyrics to a giggling Feyre. 

The Stoics believed in many things. They believed in the value of virtue and the pursuit of wisdom, in accepting the things we cannot change, and most importantly, they believed in the power of the present moment. It is the only thing we have control over.

Your wandering thoughts from earlier were all true. You'd never be this young again. You'd never attend this same festival, never be this drunk, never dance like this in this exact constellation of friends and music. You'd miss out on many memories, many moments just as joyous. 

You’d never have this exact moment again.

But right now, it was all yours.

And that was all that mattered.

✹ ✶ 𖧷 ✶✹

For your viewing pleasure, here is the view Victoria had of Reader and Az:

drawn by the best and most talented ever @micahssketchbook

authors note: i wonder who that sweet sexy drunk best friend was named after.... @daycourtofficial any ideas?

permanent tag list 🫶🏻: 

@rhysandorian @itsswritten @milswrites @lilah-asteria @georgiadixon 

@glam-targaryen @cheneyq @darkbloodsly @pit-and-the-pen @azrielsbbg

@evergreenlark @marina468 @azriels-human @panther-girl-124 @bubybubsters 

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered @feyretopia  @ninthcircleofprythian @velariscalling @azrielrot

@justyouraveragekleemain @marigold-morelli @mrsjna @anarchiii @alittlelostalittlefound @melissat1254

@m4tthewmurd0ck @beardburnsupersoldiers @isnotwhatyourethinking @tothestarsandwhateverend @raginghellfire

[blingblong55]

Little red riding hood- König NSFW

Based on a request:

Can I ask for a werewolf König with red riding hood reader and maybe age gap if you’re comfortable with it? And knotting and breeding kink if that’s also allowed Red is a witch in this if that’s okay since it’s October ☺️.Red is in her 20’s while I think König if I’m reading it right, he’s like late 30’s? I could be wrong.Red follows the tale of the story, but what if in this one, Red and König knew each other? Like he was her guardian angel for her growing up, and they were like friends of being outcasts; König being the Big Bad Wolf and Red for her red hood and for being a witch, all because she lives out more in nature then in a village but is their only known healer so they tolerate her. They always say that wherever Red went, the Wolf followed as to make sure Red was never harmed, lurking in the woods. But then, a mysterious woodsman/huntsman appears in town; and he helps around. Goes into the woods to chop trees and hunt; but it is secretly König posing as a man as to avoid suspicion but to also get close to Red 👀 _____ F!Reader, smut, MDNI, 18+, monster au, werewolf!könig, age gap, witch au, witch!reader, unprotected!sex, friends to lovers, P-in-V, breeding _____

A/N: It won't be as extensive as I wanted but I hope you enjoy and im sorry for posting this a day late

A small home in the woods, where a young witch lived, and a neighbour far away that became her friend. You and he became friends when he first introduced himself. Ever since, he has become your protector, friend and guidance. But with time, that sense of protecting you just because you were his friend changed. Infatuation for some. Love, respect and honesty for him. He wasn't normal, that was known and you weren't very much liked, that is a fact. But why don't you get the townspeople to pester you? You heal, and anyone in town sick comes to your small home for healing. No pharmacy in town, just the same old hospital and you. Yes it's true, while no one likes you, they respect you and your abilities to heal others.

It has taken time to get used to this newfound fame, but with König around to help and protect, life is great. And now as you made your way to the dark forest for another special herb for a healing session in the morning, you pulled the hood of your cloak on your head. The red material disguises you in the woods. This is perfect for the man who follows you like a shadow, a new stalker you swore was out to harm you. The dark magic protects you from it when it knows you don't know it. As it doesn't protect you from this mysterious creature, you begin to fasten your pace. König not with you this time scares you. "For the souls, help me," you whisper as you begin to sprint. A tree that you recognise in sight. "König," you remember and turn a sharp right, running towards the only haven besides your home.

Your wicker basket in hand, the plants and book moving with this quickened pace. You knock on his door, it takes time but when he opens it, he is in his human form. "König, there…there was a man- or thing…and-" you try to explain. His large form moves you inside, he smiles, knowing he has his precious thing with him now. "You're safe now, liebe," he whispers as he holds you in his arms. Your basket is now on the ground of his cabin, the cosy walls surrounding you both from the cold breeze and fog of the autumn season. The moon was almost full as it was the 30th of October, almost his time of turning. He pulls away and cups your face in his large hands, he chuckles to himself at this beautiful view. "Now, why don't you and I sit down and talk, ja?" And as time passes, he walks you home. Hallow Eve in the coming minutes, you with a journey to your grandma. He kisses your forehead and disappears in the night.

By morning, as you take your baked goods to the one lady who kept you sane, you see a lumberman, axe in hand as he walks through the woods. You stop in your tracks, as far as you are concerned, no one in town took trees down from your property. König at his home as you stared at his man. Figure more rougher than any man you've seen. Hallows hour is approaching soon, and your grandmother needs your protection at that time. You continued walking and then the man turned to you, scarecrow mask on, you know this wasn't normal. Everyone in town knew not to mess with you, for the man with the howls was behind when his precious girl came to town. With a hand on the dagger the old witch crafted, you never give this mysterious man your back as you walk past and before you make it to the sacred gardens, he chases you with the power most men can't possess.

König, you think of. He was not near, nowhere as near as this man posing as a noble lumberman. You can't drop the basket in fear that your potions and book will be stolen and used against yourself and the greater good of others. Three claw marks in a tree of where König left his mark. A haven, his home much closer as possible. The early morning fog made the ground nearly visible. "König!" you scream in hopes of having his ability to hear it all and listen to you. You run and run, the red cloak dancing with the wind like a willow tree.

Once you make it to him, you knock and knock, calling for him in desperation. It was the oldest trick in the book for dark, smart and in need-of-love wolves. To court and how to make it fast. "For heavens my Liebling, what's the matter?" he asks with a soft tone, breathing trying to slow down. "It happened again, but this…this time the man chased me with-…i..an axe and- well." He shakes his head, inside spirit smiling like the devil. "I'm here to protect you, my liebe," he kisses your forehead and acts as if he is determined to kill the man. The hoax is well done as he has you vulnerable and scared, all for him to use against you and kiss you and make you his finally. Your arms holding him close, he chuckles knowing that the woman he loves finds comfort in him. He kisses your forehead over and over, and guides you to his bedroom to, 'let you rest' but it's all part of his plan to make you, his.

They say to claim, is to leave a mark, and König intended to do just that. His scent on your red cloak, your dress and the basket you carried with care. His gaze softens, but his touch is rough as he lays you in bed. "Now, why don't I show you how good I can take care of you?" One nod from him and another from you has him removing the unnecessary clothes. There was something different in the atmosphere, he felt it and you know you can feel it too. "König, I-" you say but his finger flies to your lips. "Let me show you I care," his voice was still so soft but as time kept getting closer, that soft voice would turn to howls and hoarse words. He kisses you, you kiss him back, which he smiles to as he knows you feel the same way…finally. No longer does he have to lure you into his home, he can have you come here, willingly. The lumberman character is lost in the woods as he gets lost in you.

His hands are on your waist as with his thumb he lifts your dress, and you squirm. "It's okay, I won't hurt you, I want to please you," he tells you. You know it's not an empty word he ushers but honesty. Your body soon to be his, your love and devotion, written in time as his. His bulge, with a wet shadow as his pre-cum leaks from just this contact. You un-do his trousers, he looks down and then at you, "You want it that bad, don't you?" A devil smirk on him again. "I need it," you tell him. He pushes you deeper in the bed as his kisses become rough, trailing to your jaw and neck, he growls and time ticks. It's a countdown. Poets and other simple writers, all authoring about a woman in a red cloak, afraid of the big bad wolf, to have it debunked by you and him. Covered in lust and deep in love. His cock is ready to pump you full of his seed. He needs to breed your pretty pussy that drips the taste of heaven. Your hands fly to his back, he lets out a groan.

"That's it, baby, mark me," his hands fly to your cunt, fingers it and licks his fingers after. "Just like I predicted, heaven from you," he kisses you once more, this time so you can taste glory. His cock, in a desperate need to fuck itself into you, slowly lets his tip in. You moan, he was big, thick and already so red and swollen for you. Seconds pass and now, as his werewolf self comes to play with his prey, his heavy cock spreads you open. You whimper and cry. "That's right darling, keep making those pretty noises for me," he kisses you, and you moan into it. His large hands on you, claiming every last bit of you as his. His thrusts are like this form of himself, animalistic and wild. Your body and his, in unity, as he claims that cunt of yours. Your clit, rubbed by his large hands, your eyes rolling back. Thrusts so good it turns you into a blabbering mess. His dark laugh melts you, he loves this view of you.

Your orgasm building up, your pussy wrapping around him like a perfect glove. He groans and grunts. It was art for what sex can be. To have your cunt, spread and filled with his fat cock, it was art. Your hands, marking his back, he lets out a growl, his beast cannines on view. "Don't. Fucking. Stop." He adores how he claims you and you do him. His hands fly to your neck as he chokes you and as his moans and grunts fill the gap between you and him. And just as you were already riding your high, you feel him, his cock grow within you, creating a nest inside of you. The art of sex and knotting your mate, a plan he knew all too well. Your eyes leak with tears, tears he helped create as he proves to you, that love is not emotional at times but physical. His cum, leaking from your cunt that was already filled to the brim. "You like it when I breed you like that?" This is a not-so-innocent question that will be asked throughout this relationship. "You like it, I know my little whore does," eh kisses you, and thrusts slowly as he plans on keeping his cock in you for some more time.

A/N: I apologise if this wasn't good or how it was requested...sorry

Tags:

@bigtimesalt8196 @alxexhearts @kit-kats06 @greatstormcat @crimson404deer @liyanahelena @sleepydang @arithestrawberry @l0calfatherfiiigure @sigrid666 @killshotcodxxx @potatoknight @scarletevening @elowynnlane @brazen-haze @rinsworld @briefartnaturewolf @rnangoes @ess-perspective-blog @jihyowl

[imaginingbleach]

Something that randomly came to mind...

Enjoy!

(NSFW below the cut; espadas included: 1, 3, 4, 5, 6, 8 & Neliel)

Struggled a bit with 8, so forgive me. 😭

Types of Doms they are:

Starrk

This man has got exactly two modes when it comes to sex. Lazy or feral.

He's willing to do a lot with you, but if you catch him in his lazy mode you'll likely be doing most of the work.

Ride him, suck him, hell he'll even give you oral if you both find the right positions for him to laze a out.

Just remember: It's not that he isn't enjoying himself; that rock hard dick proves otherwise...

You knew what you were getting into.

Now then, switching gears: when he's feral, he'll barely let you move.

He's making you cum a minimum of one time before he's even going to penetrate you in any way.

He gets very possessive in this state.

Congratulations! You've essentially got a werewolf boyfriend who's usually lazy and can't transform like that...

But! When he needs to claim you for whatever reason? Welp!

Communication is key with this man! He doesn't mind if you have multiple partners, but he can get a bit jealous if you don't tell him!

Hell, you'll find out on more than one occasion, when someone flirts with you...

He'll bring you home and claim you all night long.

He might not even make it home.

Just... Keep him in the loop if you're crushing or plan to date another. it'll probably save some furniture.

Halibel

As she can't quite use her mouth outside of being in her release form, she's had time to master plenty of other ways to get you off.

She prefers to use her hands and fingers on you, but is not opposed to toys in anyway.

That's primarily for when she's doing any for of penetration on you, though.

She has learned to use any and every part of her body to be able to tease you and leave you squirming and begging for her.

Don't call her master. It reminds her of her fraccións.

May accept being called mommy under the right circumstances, though.

Has absolutely no issues with being called daddy.

Just sit on her lap and ask daddy politely if you can ride her thigh~

Not one to get jealous easily, but is definitely protective.

This is particularly true if you are someone who can be seen as weak to others.

Not very loud, but loves hearing how loud she can make you.

Ulquiorra

He struggles a lot with more human like needs and emotions

So he tends to be a heavy service top...

But it comes with so many questions.

"Why does your face warm when I kiss you?"

"Why do you avert your gaze when I-"

You get the idea.

Eventually once repeated behaviors rise up, he starts catching on.

When you make this sound, it means you really like it.

When you squirm, you're not actually trying to get away.

Just simple stuff, but you'll have had to explain it to him a bit before he starts connecting the dots.

Once he's more comfortable with you and starts recognizing these reactions...

You're in for it.

He's definitely someone who gets off on your pleasure.

As long as you're satisfied, so is he.

Nnoitra

He surprisingly doesn't mind being the one to do all the work.

It let's him be in control of, well, everything.

There's something about seeing how much you get off on everything he does to you that drives the predator in him wild.

He enjoys having control, and, having you submit to let him do whatever he wants is too delicious to pass up.

Plus, he can't help but enjoy the way you always act like such cute little prey when he's teasing you.

Those big doe eyes, the small squeaky and whiny noises you make...

The way he can make you come undone with almost any part of his body...

It's very >:))

Not entirely against sharing, but like with Starrk, if it's not discussed he can get a bit jealous

His jealousy, however, is usually more rage fueled than hormonal so watch out for that.

He's not too into being called anything "special"

May accept "daddy" now and again

Despite how kinky sex with him might be-- it is fueled by emotions (at least on his end)

You've sparked his interest in one way or another enough to warrant wanting to carnally claim you...

There's at least some attachments and calling him "master" immediately throws that out the window to him.

Grimmjow

He definitely still has some characteristics from his more beastial hollow form

His need to claim you is always in battle with his desire to see you submit to him

Kneel before the king and offer him a blowjob, he's grinning wider than Nnoitra

Seeing you beg him to pleasure you is just 😘

Part of the problem with him is that it's a bit difficult for him to give oral... Given that he has to be very conscious of every move he makes because of his hollow mask

But he is a god with his hands.

He's another one who likes to watch you ride his thighs.

Absolutely gets off on being called king, but will absolutely bust a nut if you refer to him as your husband (romantic partner ofc)

This is at it's worst before any kind of marriage, but it's still effective after.

Doesn't see the appeal in being called daddy until he *is* a daddy 👀 something about being one makes it kinkier to him for you to call him daddy

Szayel

A bit different from the others on the list in that he wants to be worshipped like a god.

He wants you to use your entire body to do so, but this is just the first act-- no form of penetration just yet. (Minus maybe deep throating him~)

Now, once that's all done he's got PLENTY of ways to pleasure you...

He's definitely into orgasm denial and overstimulation.

He likes testing your body~

If you're willing, definitely would do some experimenting...

He wouldn't do anything too drastic, though.

If not, he'll find a way to make some of his palatable for you~

You really should thank him for thinking of you.

So/so with names. The higher status the name gives him, the more he'll like it.

Neliel

Dommy mommy 🥰

She absolutely loves to spoil you during kinky times together

Another one who gets off more on your pleasure than her own

If you're not a pillow prince(ss) type of sub, she will boss you around a bit~

But she's so sweet when she does that it just has you melting at her every word

"What was that, baby? Tell mommy what you want~"

She might tease you with that one by having you with a gag in your mouth or other things 🤭

Absolutely does get off on taking care of you

Dotes on you, takes great lengths into making sure you're comfortable during aftercare!

Doesn't matter how you compare size wise to her, she's holding you on her and letting you rest your head on her chest

Makes an amazing pillow ngl

[beenbaanbuun]

hi bunny! nice to meet you! ive started to follow you recently and im in love w all your works, but specially w the opposites attract universe! ive been an addams family enthusiast since childhood and mixing it with ateez has made it even better for me :)

ive grown curious about how san would get used to the household daily life and to darling's antics. and how much time would it take for him to grow fond of her, ofc lol :D

san tries his hardest to let everything that happens in that household wash over him like water off a duck’s back, but every single day he’s faced with a new challenge.

first of all there’s the sex. san thanks the stars that he isn’t a prude, because he wouldn’t last a day in that house if he was. his first 5 minutes in that god-forsaken house were soundtracked by the sound of a bed squeaking, and then when he finally met his boss, all he could smell was the scent of sex which clung to him like cologne. he finds pretty quickly that it’s not just hongjoong that smells that way, but it’s actually just imbedded in the walls of the house. he’s walked in on enough sex to know the reason why the scent of pleasure hangs over the house like a thick fog, and he tries his hardest to not be surprised each time he steps through a door to see someone’s dick stretching out the resident ball of energy. it’s still a little difficult…

and then there’s the ball of energy itself. there’s something about her that’s rather endearing, even from the very first moment he meets her. when she stumbled down the stairs looking every bit the princess that he’s come to realise she is, he was immediately intrigued. even more so when seonghwa and hongjoong began to dote on her slender fingers immediately moving to straighten her outfit—after all, san was still a stranger at that point and it’s only proper to look your best when greeting a new acquaintance. then the grumpy werewolf descended on her, tail wrapping around her thigh as if to claim her as his own and san found himself so curious it almost hurt.

but getting to know darling was a lot easier said than done. despite her following him everywhere for the first couple of days, a certain werewolf also decided to tag along everywhere. whilst she was rambling in one ear, the mutt would be growling in the other. san got the message pretty easily; don’t get too close unless he wants to lose his life. he tried to counter it by shooing her away so he can ‘do his job’, but the hurt look that would settle over her face only made the werewolf even more upset. san was lost for what to do, and the two of them seemed hellbent on making his life infinitesimally more difficult than it needed to be.

it was around three days in when yeosang got bored of following san around, and so the mutt kidnapped her and held her hostage in the living room with him. he didn’t trust the stranger with his pup just yet, and if he had to keep her pinned to the floor with his own body to keep her safe, then that’s what he’d do! he was a guard dog after all… it had absolutely nothing to do with jealousy and hongjoong was a liar for ever claiming it did!

after that, it was harder to get to know darling, but san didn’t mind. he still got to hear her ramble about anything and everything every time he stepped foot into the living room, and he still got to see her every time she snuck away when yeosang’s attention was on something else for two seconds. for those brief couple of minutes, san found himself enjoying her presence immensely!

and then yeosang would storm in and snatch her away for himself again…

[raviollies]

DMed a oneshot for the friendos and got a new achievement : making a player cry!

The premise was that a Hag pulled them into her domain which was shaped by their dreams and desires, particularly Blythes! So it was a big fancy Villa with a ballroom, opera haus, fancy dinner, everything - and immediately somethings were different.

Arameia woke up NOT a werewolf and Lorelai woke up a HUMAN and not undead. Rosy cheeks, freckles and all (she was very weirded out over not being able to hear or smell as good).

For Arameia - the dream manifested her parents, alive and well, and her pet dog Lancelot, no longer geriatric. The horror of becoming an orphan never occurring. For Lorelai, it took away her vampirism, and the root cause...her father alive and well - though distant. It wasn't that she wanted to see him...but rather proof of wiping her sin away. For Eirwen, it wiped away her Sharrian past, and the tattoo that came with it, and gave her more friends, so she'd never be lonely. And for Raha.... Well let's just say he folded like a lawn chair in a hurricane.

Upon meeting her the gang had a lot of discussion as to how & why, though the concept of a motherly Blythe left everyone...concerned.

Since the party was a bit of a pickle not sure where to find Raha or Blythe since they're the only party members they haven't met up with, a certain special someone made an appereance...in the form of a kitty cat!

Theta explained that the dream is made up of Blythes wishes and desires : to have her friends with her and never die, her favourite food, a library full of artifacts, an extravagant villa with ballrooms - and the little changes to them was the Witch tapping into their own desires to keep them placated and comfortable...so they may just decide to forego reality and dream...like Blythe and Raha have. She does not want her precious petal just slowly withering away, being a meal, in another Witch's domain, that's her job, so she gives the party hints on how to break out before the Witch zaps her the hell out (she couldn't just enter as Witch's power is absolute within her domain, so it would take a lot longer for her to wiggle in strong enough to do anything substantial)

She introduces herself as Wunsch...the party can deduce she is a Night Hag (this is where I say I just made her Fae and idgaf) (as per my fae characters, she has freaky eyes...in this case it's a starry sky instead of pupil!) . She asks the party if there is "anything else she can do"...the party notices little things change around the dream, like suddenly even more food, some of their favourites, or new faces.

In order to find Blythe they needed to restore stopped time, and find the three clockhands for a magical clock...1 of them was behind some riddles, the other one, behind a test of friendship where they had to answer 3 things correct about the person in front of them. The last key, most horrifyingly...was inside Arameias parents.

THIS IS WHERE I MADE THE PLAYER CRY HEHE....Arameia decided she will do it herself, as she already buried them once...she does eventually manage to kill them (it was very sad because they did not Want to Die), and get the key...but not without a lot of heart ache and tears....Thankfully Lorelai was there for plenty of hugs...

Then they finally meet Raha! Who has fully drank the kool-aid and started dreaming, and he stands before them...he doesn't want them to break the spell. He fights for Blythe's dream...and his own...unwilling to let them take way her or his daughter....and that he and Blythr have nothing in the real world, no family, no home. Just hardship...and eventually he'll just die, and leave Blythe all alone.

After defeating him, the Witch takes matter into her own hands, as the party falls into the "bedroom" where Blythe is sleeping & have to fight the actual Hag herself in her true form...or rather wake up Blythe until the clock strikes 12 and the dream is fully manifested and unable to be stopped.

Wunsch's true form is a giant marble like lion with white feathers and a 4 armed upper body reminiscent of a sphinx. In the cracks of the marble a night sky can be seen, she doesn't particularly have many offensive spells, mostly relying on her enemies being slowed/confused/held/dominated until the timer runs out. (All the reflective shards were of Blythes &co's dreams and nightmares...the party gone, Raha withering and dying in bed, Theta, herself becoming a true hag ... or happy family for Arameia as an example...Eirwen surrounded by friends and Lorelai laughing with the party)

But the party manages to wake Blythe up using all that they've learned!! That yeah she wants these magical tomes and artifacts...but everything in here would have been things she's already found...she can never 'discover' anything new in a dream she's created, so let's go adventuring!

How she's always wanted to try Tarrasque steak but without trying she could never imagine the taste...so why not come with them and kill one?

That she's not safe from Theta in here, and if she was able to get in once, she can get it in again...so lets get out of here and break your curse!

That yeah they'll live eternally, but they won't be 'them' anymore...over time they'll have their edges smoothed over and it won't be the same people because we don't get to grow and experience new things...That Raha loves her the way she is...and that she's not a hideous monster...

When the party awakens, completely normal with..all the curses and stuff, they find out that time hasn't moved since they've fallen asleep, and immediately run to find Blythe and Raha...who don't remember anything that happened, and assume that maybe some ghost got them into a nightmare but they broke out of it. Arameia/Eirwen/Lorelai decided to keep some facts to themselves, like the presence of the child or fighting Raha.

Hilariously, they assume they had too much 'willpower' to be got by such a spell, despite in actuality being the only ones to fold. The gang did have a newfound appreciation for them realizing that yes...Blythe does love them a lot and that they don't know much about Raha and haven't been very good friends.

BUT IT ALL ENDED BITTERSWEET.,....with the gang now being sure all of them love each other and they can move from confronting their trauma and go forward...with fwiends :)

[rockybloo]

ask about gulo, why does the silly guy have so much anxiety? is it because of hunters or other vampires? or something in his past?

ALL of the above.

The vampires in his world are split into 3 major groups based off how turning mutates the body and he got the 3 mutation, which is why I refer to him as a class 3 vamp, which is a more werewolf like spin on things.

So many, both human and vampire, tend to hesitate approaching him because of certain false beliefs. And he is very much a "I do not start conversations, I just wait for people to talk to me first" typa fella.

His parents were also humans that worried constantly over him when he transformed. They're why he takes to having a specially bred swarm of vampire bats that go out and bring back blood for him instead of going out to feed himself. He prefers not live feeding from others unless given permission because class 3 vampires need to drink and eat the most and it's very easy for him to accidentally kill someone. He only drinks from Cordula because she consents and communicates when she's at her limit.

Lastly, he is just super used to living in a big ass castle by himself. So his level of interaction with other people and monsters is very very VERY low. So his social skills are in the bin. The dude kinda locked himself away after his parents died (Gulo is in his 60s btw so he ain't super old in vampire years). The one person he talked to routinely was Putrid...but they are very unhinged and not the best way to raise your social skills.

Cordula helps though (she's in her 30s) so he is slowly getting used to interacting with others.

[ultraericthered]

One Villainous Scene: Cage Of Expectations

A brief one, but it gives so much insight and explains so much about the inner world of a character who, up to this point, was kept shrouded in mystery even though we all knew he was the villain, and also perfectly sets him up to make the decisions he ends up making.

While the later retcon tells us that Ken became a prodigious, genius boy due to a "Dark Spore" inplanted in him by accident that only "went off" when he visited the Dark Ocean, the whys and hows aren't really crucial to understanding Ken's story at this point: he's a star student, star athlete, and even something of a young celebrity within the world of science and computers. Because he is so well known and renowned, he's given plenty of filmed interviews like we see him doing here. After the interview is done, the headmaster of Ken's school comes over to him to offer congragulatory words...and then in a very shady move, whispers to Ken the offer to tutor his daughter in her studies over at his place so that she can excell in her grades at his school, saying he'd reward Ken handsomely for it. Ken plays the "I'm just a kid, I ain't THAT good" card, which makes the principal start to back off...but then he turns back around and asks the disgruntled Ken for an autograph. Turns out that beyond mere corruption and nepotism practices, the headmaster was pestering Ken about these things because his daughter's a fangirl of Ken. This does not please Ken. Who do some plain, unexceptional, low IQ girl and her plain, unexceptional, low IQ father think they are asking him for favors like this? Such matters are far below his time and efforts.

(In the English dub, this interaction is changed to some nonsense about the headmaster wanting Ken over to help him win at a video game called "Donkey Madness" prior to getting the autograph. The effect on Ken is the same, but I think it takes a lot out of the scene.)

Ken is then seen at dinner with his parents, who are acting all congragulatory and gushing over their son's interview and how smart he is and how maturely he presents himself. Yeah, they're really shitty parents. Much as they do love their son and loved his late brother, their love for the idea of being the parents of a special genius child enraptures them so much that they lose sight of what's really best for their child and his needs as a human being, and they coast off the achievements and reputation of their child without really giving back to him in any substantial way. Ken isn't really pleased with the way they interact with him either, so he gets up and leaves the table.

Then comes the big moment. An image that says so much even when so little is said (again, in the original. The dub butchered it by having Ken internally ramble the whole way, which not even Derek Stephen Prince can really save.) Ken's on the roof of his apartment building, standing in front of a barred fence. He can see the entire city from here, a city filled with mediocre people who he considers to be completely beneath him, but who will always look to exploit his gifts and use whatever he accomplishes for their own benefit, and will feel alright about themselves for doing nothing, being nothing. Ken would love nothing more than to abuse, bully, enslave, torture, or even kill the whole lot of them...but he's far too intelligent to not know better. He knows that the rules of civil society prohibit him from acting freely upon those cruel urges, making him have to conform and comply with the regulations set by lesser people. He, a Chosen One, a "perfect human", has to just sit there and take it like a good little boy, to not werewolf and go wild on these people. He's trapped. Caged like a rare breed of animal rather than the god he believes himself to be. The bars he grabs onto represents this cage, and all he can do here is snarl and shout out to city below him "INSECTS!"

But of course we know that there's a place Ken goes to where he can actually live his wildest fantasies, and act as he would naturally prefer to act towards lesser beings completely free of repercussions. The world he believes is one large MMORPG that exists for his pleasure. The Digital World, where he asserts himself as the Digimon Kaiser. And it's at this point where he starts to call that place home.

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 7)

Howdy! Welcome to part 7! I'm happy you're here! Thank you all again for showing this series the love and support you all have. I appreciate you all so much, and I hope you're all finding new favorites to add to your own collections.

Apologies for the delay in getting this part to you. To be honest, it's just been too fucking hot for me lately, so I've been spending less time at my computer and more time splayed out, letting the wind blow upon me. I'm a spicy bitch on an average day, but it's been 100+ degrees here on average for the past week and a half with the heat is showing no signs of going away anytime soon. So there may end up being bigger gaps between updates (like the one you just experienced) than I maintained previously. Fair warning.

Okay, that's all from me today. Let's get into, lovelies!

Smoochies and squeezies!

List and link to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17

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and the questions of heaven, for a sinner like me by doxa (G | 1/1 | 1,346)

“I'm Loki, son of Laufey,” Stiles chants. “And I'm going to burn down the world.”

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many beacons in the sea by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 1,479)

Stiles has known all his life that he’s not like other kids. He’s special.

“It’s alright, love,” his mom says, leaning over him at night when he can’t sleep because his legs hurt so bad. “Just let it hurt.”

She kisses his forehead. He dreams of the sea. They go to the beach that weekend.

*

Stiles is a siren. He’s an anomaly, until he isn’t.

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Now when we're old by orphan_account (NR | 1/1 | 2,431)

Stiles' skin was soft, the years passing making it worn and thin; his bones brittle and fragile. He was still the man they all knew, but older. Derek's hair was grey and white now, his beard more straggle than stubble. His whole life could be read on his face, almost like a map, outlining his joys and tears.

We all know how their lives together began, but how did it end.

Believe it or not the ending is kinda happy.

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the secrets in our blood by orphan_account (T | 1/1 | 5,433)

//He’d never meant for it to go this far.

He really, honest to god hadn't. Like, okay, it's not like he'd expected a long life, but he'd at least hoped he'd have gotten the hell away from Beacon Hills before they found him.//

or, the one where Stiles is a demon and the same hunters who killed his mother (also a demon) find him.

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Wolf Cub by moodwriter (E | 1/1 | 6,946)

A strange wolf is not supposed to touch another pack’s cub and that’s why, on a rescue mission, it’s Stiles’ job to take care of the wolf cub who’s curious about everything and everyone. Stiles is not used to werewolf children, and the pack is not used to Stiles taking care of a child. Their Alpha gets very confused about this, too.

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The Dark Spark by Reia (E | 1/1 | 7,014)

He knows that Stiles is speaking to his wolf, to that animal inside that thrums with the need to maim and kill and take, take, take and he really shouldn't allow it, he shouldn't.

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but couldn't good be good enough by lazulisong (G | 1/1 | 8,044)

"His dad is probably going to tell Stiles not to hang out with us," says Boyd, taking a sip of his Coke.

Isaac gives Derek an utterly betrayed look, and Erica glares at him. "I told you not to wear those sunglasses!" she hisses.

"What if Stiles can't hang out with us any more?" says Isaac wretchedly. "What if Scott doesn't want to hang out with us because --"

"I said those were pedophile sunglasses!" says Erica, in a quiet, piercing whisper that makes Derek's ears hurt.

Boyd continues eating his gyro, which he has laid out on a plate like a salad on a piece of flatbread, methodically picking out the tomatoes, feta and lamb and laying them to the side to eat after the lettuce. Boyd would eat his gyro if there was a bomb going off.

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The House in the Middle by afullrevolution (2 works | G-T | 8,569)

1. Battle not with monsters (T | 3/3 | 7,590) Stiles laughed. Laughed because he understood what Nietzsche had been writing about. Because hunters were clearly monsters for all they claimed to battle them. Because Stiles had looked into the abyss and the abyss was staring straight back. 2. To Grandmother's House We Go (G | 1/1 | 979) There were always going to be repercussions for everyone involved, and then some.

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Hell to Raise by Mosca (E | 1/1 | 12,543)

Stiles is the last in a long line of pagan priests. Of course, the god in question is a sarcastic trickster who mostly just wants him to get laid. Of course.

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No Oceans Left by zoemathemata (T | 1/1 | 14,207)

Stiles has always been a merman. He just never knew how to tell anyone. He hasn’t shifted since his mom died.

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Hand of the Devil by shiny_starlight (M | 1/1 | 14,669)

For years, Hale and his family had escaped justice, but the day of reckoning had come. His comfortable life was about to come crashing down about his ears and Adrian was going to relish every single second of it.

Mob!AU. Derek is the head of the Hale Family, and Detective Adrian Harris is determined to bring him to justice, whatever means necessary.

Warning: Contains past!non-cannonical character death and non graphic description of injuries. Contains cannon character death.

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Do What I Dare series by FunkyinFishnet (3 works | T-M | 15,532)

Stiles has always known he prefers to wear women's clothing. He learns that the people who matter want him to be happy too.

1. Make No Conditions (M | 1/1 | 8,557) Stiles has always known that he prefers wearing female clothing, but not many people in his life know. He makes friends with drag queens, goes shopping with Lydia and Allison, and tries to work out if and when he can ever tell Derek about his wardrobe. Will Derek want all of him? Of course, it turns out that Lydia is right all along, about everything. 2. Get A Little Outta Line (M | 1/1 | 4,444) Stiles talks down a rival pack's Alpha, tells his Dad about werewolves, is confronted by Chris Argent, and communicates enjoyably without words with Derek. It's pretty awesome altogether. 3. Scent Of A Woman And A Man (T | 1/1 | 2,531) Stiles and his Mom love perfume. Stiles carries that love into his teenage years and once he and Derek become close, he finds he's not the only one obsessed with scents.

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Actual Puppy Derek Hale by Wrennefer (Wrenegadeone) (T | 1/1 | 18,162)

Derek didn't know what was worse: the hunters, being trapped as a wolf, being hit by a car, or the fact that he had somehow become some kid's pet dog for the unforeseeable future.

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Der Yingl fun Erd un Blitz (The Boy of Earth and Lightning) by sofonisba_found (T | 3/3 | 18,741)

Miriam and John Stilinski had always wanted to have children. But when her illness prevented her from giving birth, and every conventional alternative option to raise a child was denied to them, they had to look for an...unconventional method. One that would give them a child that was himself far from ordinary in so many ways.

And soon after, in the town of Beacon Hills, a young werewolf named Derek begins to notice the scent of something different from anything he had ever known before in the air...

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Certain and Unsure series by dedougal (2 works | M-E | 20,475)

1. Make It Up As We Go Along (E | 1/1 | 11,388) Stiles was not expecting to find a baby on the kitchen table at Derek's. Not at all. 2. Left to Trust (M | 1/1 | 9,087)

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With The Hush of My Lips, I Wholly Confound The Skeptic by Unknown (M | 6/6 | 27,249)

My contribution to the Teen Wolf Big!Big:

It’s honestly his dad’s worst nightmare.

And it’s not like the doctors never told them that it could be hereditary, what his mother died of. They had. It’s just, after such a tragic thing like her dying had happened, they hadn’t thought anything could ever be worse.

Until they had found that stupid abnormality in Stiles’ stomach.

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The Importance of Turning Around Three Times Before Lying Down by otter (T | 10/10 | 30,493)

It’s like this dog has walked out of all of Stiles’ childhood dreams and into the real world just because Stiles wanted it hard enough. He is the most awesome dog ever, and he and Stiles have a bond. A deep, unbreakable bond because this animal is his soul mate, obviously. Now he just has to convince the dog of that.

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Of Love and Fairness series by JTHM_Michi (4 works | G-T | 38,833)

Life isn't fair and sometimes when people mean well they react without knowing all the facts. Families are a deep cavern of secrets and lies and the Stilinski family isn't different than any other. When the Alpha Pack came to Beacon Hills, they brought death with them and in the fallout, Stiles was kicked out and his father got a new child and a new wife. This is a story about life and family and all the hard things from both. Alls fair in love and war?

1. We Meet Again (T | 1/1 | 16,320) When Stiles was 17, the Sheriff kicked him out because the Alpha Pack was getting to be too dangerous for the newest additions to the Stilinski household. Now, eleven years later, Stiles is about to come face to face with his once kid step-sister and be forced to deal with this fact. Is it possible to forgive and forget? 2. But With A Whimper (G | 1/1 | 6,704) Rebecca Stilinski learns to deal with the reveal that her father simply isn't the person she grew up thinking he was. And how is it possibly fair that Stiles can have this wonderful life and his father still condemns him as some sort of shady character from a crime drama? The sequel to 'We Meet Again'. 3. Magic Musings (G | 1/1 | 6,274) Lydia has made for herself a perfect life. She has a degree from MIT, has won a Fields Metal, has gotten married to Jackson, and has a career where people call her ‘Dr. Martin’ with complete sincerity. She has a large extended family of friends and is a godmother to her best friend’s daughter and has two little boys who call her ‘Auntie’. Her life is perfect – sure, she and Jackson go through rough patches and sometimes her bills stress her out – but overall she has a good life. She never thought her wonderful life would involve Stiles as her quasi brother with Scott as their goofy younger brother (never mind that Lydia is actually the youngest) but life is strange that way. 4. Look The Other Way (G | 5/5 | 9,535) The small snippets from my "Of Love and Fairness" verse, including but not limited to: The original confrontation between Stiles and his father over the Sheriff's abandonment of Stiles in the past; A small glimpse of Derek and Stiles' wedding; and a meeting between Lydia and the Sheriff. And really anything else from this verse that I wrote that didn't make it into any of the bigger pieces. It would be better to read the other parts of this verse before this one.

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Dirty paws and furry coats by queerly_it_is (E | 1/1 | 57,621)

Stiles is eight years old when his dad brings Derek home.

[AU based on Disney's The Fox and the Hound]

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Indelible Marks by billtheradish (M | 87/87 | 275,695)

The house never burned. The pack is strong. Derek will never need to be the alpha, and his sister is a troll. (Actually, most of his family is like that.)

Derek is an apprentice tattoo artist, and Stiles isn't old enough to get ink of his own yet. But that doesn't stop him from being interesting...

(This story is now out of buffer, but I will always announce when the next update will be, and am trying to keep to a regular posting schedule. Also, please be advised that this is essentially a rough draft. That doesn't mean it's riddled with typos, every chapter is edited, just that the overarching plot and side stories haven't had a chance to be edited in full yet--but they will be. An edited version of this story will be posted eventually, so if the current length isn't your cup of tea, just come back later.)

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[ladykailitha]

Well Met By Moonlight Part 19

I can't believe it, there is only one more chapter to go after this one and it'll be done. I'm really sad to see this one end. But as I've said in the past, I think it potential to be something more, so I'm having a good friend of mine read the story and let me know what she thinks.

We've got a lot of reveals to get through and a lot of twists to untwist. Buckle up, because the bumpy ride is ramping up.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18

~

“Hello, Murray,” Billy said stepping out of the shadows of the woods into the small clearing. “Are you going somewhere?”

Keith hurried out of the trees to stand close to the Dominus.

“Billy!” the bald little man cried out. “Hey...so you survived. Again.”

Billy tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m special like that. Someone’s been a bad dog. Am I going to have to get the newspaper?”

Keith giggled next to him.

Murray smiled tightly. “Uh-huh. Dog jokes. Very funny. Now if you’ll pardon me, I’ve got places to be and can’t stand to chat.”

Billy chuckled darkly and walked up to Murray. He picked the man up by shirt collar. “You think you frighten me? I have survived your little machinations twice.”

“You should be afraid of me,” Murray huffed without even batting an eyelid at Billy’s rough handling. “I’ve been pulling the strings in this town for almost two decades. You are who you are because of me.”

Billy threw back his head and laughed. “You think you gave me this unlimited power, this beautiful body, this charm? Because that’s what got me where I am today. Not you weakening this town until it was ripe for the taking. Because I could have taken out Dr. Brenner without all of that.”

Murray wriggled out of Billy’s grasp and straightened his shirt. “You’re just some washed up beach bum with delusions of grandeur.”

Billy transformed. His bat form large and imposing. His chest expanded and wings sprouted from his back. His feet and hands became clawed and terrifying. His eyes were black and his fangs extended below his lips, glinting in the low light.

Billy roared, but before he could leap at the cocky werewolf, the manticore leapt from behind Murray and straight for his throat.

Billy and the manticore fought, ripping and tearing at each other but before Keith could leap into action Murray stabbed him in the back with a yew stake.

“This was a little gift from my benefactor,” he whispered as blood pooled from Keith’s mouth. “I could only use it the once, but I think you’re perfect for its use. Don’t you?” Keith fell to ground, the yew stake evaporating like dust on the wind. “Of course you don’t.”

A small white cat appeared at Murray’s feet, entwining itself among his ankles.

Murray looked down at it. “Why are you here, Sorcha?”

The cat sìth leapt to his shoulder to watch the battle.

“Fine,” he huffed, “don’t tell me.”

Far too soon in Murray’s opinion the manticore ripped off Billy’s head clean off. The body of the Dominus slid to the ground as the manticore tossed his head behind it.

“Wow,” Murray said impressed. “That was actually grotesque.”

Sorcha jumped down and walked up to the head. She opened her mouth and inhaled. A silvery mist came out of the mouth of the corpse’s head into hers.

“It is done.”

Murray blinked at her and looked around in confusion. “What the fuck? What’s done, Sorcha?”

She ignored him and walked up to the manticore. “You have held up your end of the bargain and we will hold up ours. May the road rise up to meet you.”

“And to you as well,” the manticore growled.

“You both can talk?” Murray asked, rearing his head back in shock.

“Will you explain it to him?” Sorcha purred. “I must return home. I grow weak in this magic wasteland.”

“Of course,” the manticore grinned. “Well almost all of it.”

Sorcha chuckled. “But of course.” And then like she was mist herself, she dissolved and was gone.

“What the fuck is going on?” Murray asked in fear. This had really slowed down his getaway. Alexei was waiting for him at that drug lord’s house.

“I will explain on the way,” the manticore growled. “The alpha has scented the battle.”

Murray’s eyes went wide and he grabbed his things, moving toward path that would take him to his mate.

Once they were far enough away from the clearing the manticore spoke.

“Billy isn’t a true vampire no more than you are,” the beast growled.

“Just how does that even work?”

“There are only two ways to become a vampire,” the manticore explained. “Either have the good fortune to be born as one or be bitten. To die a painful death to never breathe again. To have unlimited power but to never reproduce or enjoy the fairer aspects of life.”

Murray’s expression twisted in disgust. “Yuck.”

The manticore chuckled. “Yes, Billy felt the same as you, but he wanted the power that came with vampirism. Weres don’t live long enough to tempt Billy Hargrove. Oh no.”

“Sounds like he was fucked,” Murray muttered, scenting the air. There was no smell or sound of anyone near them, but he couldn’t put away his unease that he was in danger.

But that didn’t make sense. The manticore was bound to him. The beast couldn’t even break a sweat without Murray telling him to. But the sense of danger only heightened with each step.

“He knew something most people in this modern age had long forgot,” the manticore said with a hint of laughter in his tone.

“Yeah, what’s that?”

“That real magic exists,” the manticore hissed gleefully. “He made a deal with Queen Titania. Serve her for one hundred years and he would be granted his wish. But Billy had no desire to actually be her slave. He managed to convince her to make him vampire first and then he’d serve her. He didn’t want to come out of the Seelie court in the year 2085 and not know anything.”

Murray shrugged. “Makes sense to me. I wouldn’t want to waste my life away in some Fairyland either.”

“Yes,” the manticore agreed. “But as soon as he got his power, he ran off to America outside of her power.”

“So she sent the cat sìth to hunt him down,” Murray guessed.

The beast nodded. “But by the time Sorcha found him he was too powerful to dislodge without some help.”

“So she enlisted you,” Murray concluded. “So what do you get out of this deal?”

The manticore merely grinned. “We’re here.”

Alexei popped his head up to the window and when he saw who it was, came running out, into Murray’s arms.

“We’re almost safe, my love,” Murray whispered. “Do you have the hostage?”

Alexei nodded. “She was too easy to catch.”

Murray chuckled. He had to give Steve props for tightening security but it’s a little hard to guard something you didn’t know could be taken.

“Go get her and bring her here,” he muttered. “I think we’re about to have company.”

Alexei nodded and trotted back to the boathouse. Murray pulled out a gun from his bag.

“Savage,” the manticore groused.

Murray chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect a beast like you to understand. You can’t change, you will always be what you are. A monster. But me? I use all the resources I have available to me. And that means guns and hostages.”

Murray grabbed the girl from Alexei’s grasp and pressed the barrel of the gun to her temple.

Then crashing out of the woods were Steve, Hopper, Jonathan, and Gareth. On Steve’s back was Tommy.

Tommy immediately leapt from Steve’s back as he suddenly transformed.

“Robin!” Steve called.

~

Once the fire had been put out and they took stock of who was wounded and who was just covered in someone else’s blood, Steve turned to find Tommy standing there, looking sheepishly at his feet.

“What are you doing here?” Steve growled. “I mean other than the obvious, spilling pack secrets.”

Tommy’s head shot up in shock. “You knew?”

“Since the town meeting.”

Tommy blinked at him a moment. “You never intended to mate with that vampire, did you?”

Steve scoffed. “It’s biologically impossible. You really should have paid more attention in school, Tommy.”

“Oh.”

He cleared his throat and then kicked at the dirt. “I actually was trying to warn Billy that they were going to attack, but I was too late.”

“Explain,” Steve growled. “And be quick.”

So Tommy explained everything. The deal he made with Billy, the information he had sold to him, and the puppet master and all his machinations.

Just then Hopper and Jonathan came tearing up to them, Gareth easily keeping pace behind them.

“Robin’s been kidnapped!” Hopper bit out, panting for breath.

Steve stood up straight. “Where would he go?”

“The clearing I spotted them in was near Lover’s Lake,” Tommy said. “Maybe they have a safe house near there.”

“Reefer Rick’s,” Hopper said gruffly. “He’s the closest thing Hawkins gets to a drug lord, but he’s got a house out there on the lake. He gets supplies air dropped on the lake and then goes out and scoops them up.”

Steve nodded. “Let’s go.” He turned to Tommy. “You’re coming with. You’re the only one who’s scented the mate. Hopper, lead the way.”

The old wolf nodded and waited for Steve to transform. Jeff helped the keeper onto Steve’s back.

“I’m going to find out what’s keeping Eddie and Wayne,” Jeff said. “They should have been here by now. We’ll all meet up at the lake.”

Steve nodded and waited until Jeff had taken flight before the three werewolves and the gwyllgi took off, heading for Lover’s Lake.

~

Robin was struggling to stay on her feet, her height far greater than that of her captor caused her to almost have to kneel to avoid being choked by him.

“If Hopper had just removed Alexei’s banishment none of this would have happened!” Murray screamed. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Those weren’t kids they were Hunters!”

“He tore them to pieces, Murray,” Hopper said, shifting into a human. He held out his hand, trying to calm him. “It doesn’t matter who they were, or what they were planning. He should have gone to his alpha told him about the Hunters. Let the alpha deal with them. But he didn’t.”

WHOOSH!

The three vampires landed deftly behind the ring of Shifters.

“It was sadistic,” Wayne said with a sneer. “They were played with. Alexei isn’t well.”

“He didn’t have a drop of blood on him!” Murray protested.

Hopper stepped forward and Murray tightened his grip on Robin. “If you take one more step, Hop, I’ll blow her god damn brains out. I swear I will. If you move, her blood will be on your hands.”

Something thrummed deep inside of Steve. That was a call back to what he had told Hopper when Eddie had to use force to get Steve to come out of the compound all the way back to when this all started.

“You sent the Hunters after me,” he said coldly.

Murray sneered. “You alphas are always the same all brute and no intelligence. Yes, I did it all you dumb mongrel!” He pulled on Robin’s hair causing her to scream in pain. “All of it! Sara’s death by having Alexei tamper with her chemo, getting Hopper on as many drugs as possible, the murder of your grandfather and parents, Hopper’s kidnapping! But still you stupid alphas refused to see the truth! Alexei had been framed!”

Then a sleek, dark brown wolf oozed out of the forest, all danger and cunning. Nancy was one of the most beautiful purebred werewolves Steve had ever laid eyes on. She was everything that humanity had ever written on the subject of werewolves. He still loved her, because how could anyone not, but god he was glad he had Eddie now.

“He hasn’t been framed, Mr. Bauman,” she said her transformation even more fluid and graceful than Hoppers. “Not in the way you think. You two don’t belong here.”

“Nancy?” Wayne asked stepping forward. “What’s going on?”

“I belong here, you witch!” Murray screamed and Hopped instinctively took a step forward.

They all watched in horror and slow motion as he pulled the trigger, the muzzle flash, and the bullet striking Robin’s temple.

Then falling harmlessly to the ground.

Robin blinked a moment. “You aren’t using silver bullets?” she asked sheepishly.

Everyone was staring at her in shock, all but Steve who was chuckling.

“I wouldn’t use something that would accidentally get me killed!” he protested. “I’m not stupid.”

Robin grinned and then leapt out of his hold, bright and golden. A bitten werewolf. She turned in the air like she was made to be a werewolf. She was stunning.

She bounded straight for Murray’s throat and the gun went flying. She tore off a necklace he had around his neck and it too went flying the other direction.

“No!” Murray screamed. “Not that! You don’t know what you’ve done!”

The scorpion on the necklace began to pulse. Then it shattered in a blinding flash of light.

Standing in its place was the manticore. In all its freaky glory. The face of a human, the body of a lion and the tail of a scorpion.

The manticore stretched out its lithe body. “The cat sìth made good on their word. I will have to thank them.” He turned to the crowd. “After I eat all of you, of course. It’s been so long since I’ve had such a buffet of delights.”

But as it leapt into the air, another creature appeared in the air behind it. It too had a human face but the body of a bird.

It began to sing about being still and quiet and everyone froze. The manticore crashed to ground in a crumpled form.

The siren grabbed the manticore by the mane and lifted it up into the air. He tossed it into Lover’s Lake like a rag doll. The beast howled and snarled as it was ripped apart by...

Seals?

Blood soaked the top of the water turning it dark red. Then one of the seals stepped out of the water and pulled back the seal’s head like the hood of a cloak. It revealed a red-headed girl with bright green eyes and freckles. Next to her the siren transformed into a chubby young man with wild hair.

“Barb?!” Nancy called out in amazement just as Jeff called out, “Brian!”

~

DUN! DUN! DUHHHHH! Hehehe. Cliffhanger!

Part 20

Tag List: THIRTEEN SPOTS REMAINING

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @fullpoetrybread @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookworm0690 @littlewildflowerkitten @just-a-tiny-void @potato-of-the-lord @thelittleclare

5- @goosesister @tinyplanet95 @she-collects-smut @irregular-child @y4r3luv

6- @fairytalesreality @anaibis @papergrenade @ravenfrog @blondie1006

7- @thedragonsaunt @sadisticaltarts @kultiras @blackpanzy @disrespectedgoatman

8- @kal-ology @w1ll0wtr33 @dreamercec

[pagannatural]

2.17 Heart

- this episode can’t really be called underrated but it makes me insane in a special and specific way that needs airing

-Dean is cleaning their guns and geeking out about how cool werewolves are, how they haven’t seen one since they were kids, and how good it is to know how to handle the situation, and Sam is teasing him. This callback to their shared childhood is important.

-Dean asks Sam their next step the way a teacher asks their student because Sam is still learning hunting from Dean. Sam answers correctly, looking like he’s trying not to smile and looks down and then up at Dean. He looks like he’s flirting. He loves seeing Dean happy.

- Madison tells the brothers that the victim was the kind of guy to hit on everyone in a five mile radius after a few scotches, you know the type, and Sam at first smiles knowingly. But then he looks over at Dean, who’s smiling his fuck-me smile at Madison, and his face falls. “Yeah, I do, actually,” he says.

Dean’s interest in Madison (and other women in general) really bothers him in this moment.

- Dean tells Madison someone needs to stay with her in case the werewolf shows up. The moment she leaves the room Sam tells Dean “you go, I’ll stay” with this expression that seems very serious, not like he’s just wanting to be the one who spends time with the pretty woman.

They decide to settle this the old fashioned way which is rock-paper-scissors (ro-sham-bo). Another callback to their childhood. Sam wins because Dean always chooses scissors which is honestly fascinating to me— I would have guessed Dean would pick rock because it’s the solid strong masculine option and because Sam would choose paper, but of course Dean chooses the tool, the blades. Sam grasps Dean’s arm after and his hand lingers. Again, he does not seem to have done this out of any interest in Madison, it seems like he just doesn’t want to witness Dean with her.

-This is not the face of a man who likes this woman

It reminds me of how he acted around Sarah In Provenance. He has to perform liking her for Dean, but he never shows any signs of genuine interest. Madison even dumps a basket of delicates onto the table in front of him to fold and he scrunches up his face and moves to the couch.

- Sam observes that Madison is smart and independent and asks her why she was with a stalker, and she answers that it’s not like he introduced himself like Hi I’m possessive and controlling and I like to punch people. She also says he’s wanted by the police, and that she was too insecure to leave until she realized she could take control of her life.

Madison and Sam are set up as direct parallels. She ends up being a monster without even knowing and without intending any harm, which is what Sam fears. Also, the way she’s describing her ex-boyfriend sounds a lot like Dean: possessive, controlling, likes punching people, wanted by the police. I think Dean has a lot of very redeemable qualities and for the most part he treats Sam very kindly, but he is all those things. It’s also how Sam would describe John, who he got away from by taking control of his life. The difference is that Sam actually wants to be with Dean.

- Dean kills the first werewolf in this episode. The werewolf is dying in the street and Dean stands over him and watches him turn back into a scared and confused man right before he dies. Dean obviously doesn’t enjoy seeing a man lose his life, and it complicates his earlier excitement over hunting a werewolf. The grown-up version of this hunt isn’t fun any more.

- Dean can see how Sam cares about Madison because he relates to her, and the way he watches Sam is so tender and protective. When Madison hugs Sam, Dean watches them with such bittersweet understanding

and then excuses himself very obviously so that Sam and Madison can fuck. Which they do. Which is just wild.

Because Sam decides to have sex with the first woman since Jessica because 1) Dean tells him to and 2) he sees this woman as the version of himself that gets to live without becoming a monster

- when Sam knocks frantically on his door, Dean opens up, knowing right away something is wrong and reassuring Sam that they’ll find her. The way that Sam runs straight to Dean’s door when he’s scared and needs help and Dean is right there without another thought is very romantic tropey.

-Sam yells at Dean because Dean’s willing to kill Madison without question but unwilling to kill Sam no matter what he does including murder. Dean looks a little jostled to be confronted by this, but I think to him it’s just so clear that Sam is a special and specific category from the rest of humanity and creation that he doesn’t see or doesn’t care about the hypocrisy. Sam is the center of his universe and his entire system of values. Everyone on earth or in hell is either Sam or Not Sam. It’s funny because Sam is like this about Dean too, but he just accepts it.

-Dean explains the situation to Madison calmly and honestly. It’s the decent thing to do, and also the difficult thing. He’s not cold or numb to the work, but he is able to handle it and keep his head as long as it’s not about Sam.

-Madison asks Sam to be the one to kill her and Dean watches Sam struggle. He’s been watching Sam carefully and protectively this entire episode.

-She uses language so similar to the language Sam uses to beg Dean to kill him—asking for help, saying she wants it to be him who does it, “I’m asking you to save me.” She tries to hand Sam the gun.

Dean gets up at this point and stands behind Madison, his eyes on Sam as he moves, and slowly takes the gun out of her hands. This shifts the focus off Madison and solely onto the brothers for the remainder of the episode.

His eyes stay on Sam’s as he does this, and Sam is somehow looking up at Dean pleadingly. His romantic interest is begging him for help with tears in her eyes in what will be the last moments of her life and Sam is staring at Dean behind her.

The sexual relationship between Sam and Madison is explicitly compared to Dean and Sam’s relationship. It wasn’t necessary for the werewolf character to be a woman who Sam sleeps with—the very first woman that he is with since Jessica. She’s the stand-in for Sam in this case, and Sam is put in Dean’s shoes.

The brothers go into the other room and Dean assures Sam he doesn’t have to do this, that he’ll handle it. He wants to take care of Sam and spare him this, just like he has since they were children, but he can’t this time. Sam feels he has to because she asked him, and asks Dean for the gun.

It’s a very intentional choice that Sam won’t do this for Madison until he has to ask Dean, and that in the end it’s a conversation between the brothers that forms the emotional tension and climax of the episode. Dean did what Sam needed him to do by being the one to give him the choice: let me protect you from this or do it yourself. Before, the choice was more about Madison. Now it’s about Sam and Dean’s relationship.

- Sam looks back at Dean before he walks away, like a frightened child who needs help because he really doesn’t want to do this, but he knows it’s the right thing to do as a hunter. In doing this, Sam has played out the two things from Madison that he wants from Dean, that Dean can never give him— Dean will never let their relationship become physical, and he will never kill Sam.

The camera stays on Dean’s face as the gun goes off and the episode ends. Dean can’t save Sam from this, he can’t protect him from one of the responsibilities that comes with their lives as hunters. He’s terrified that he won’t be able to save Sam at all. The days when he could take care of Sam and shield him are over, and they both have to leave that part of their childhood behind. It’s not that Dean can’t save Sam in the end, because at the end of all of this their love for each other is what saves the world. It’s that their innocence can’t survive what’s coming. They have to grow up and face the realities of their lives. Their incestuous love for each other is one of those realities, but they aren’t there yet.

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

"Murder is Werewolves" - Batman

I don't got the SPOONS to do this thought train justice, I have seriously been trying to write this thing for MONTHS so just, idk, have this half baked skeletal outline of the essay I guess:

I don't believe that Batman's no-kill rule is primarily about rehabilitation or second chances.

His refusal to believe that Cassandra could have killed someone when she was eight years old because "how could a killer understand my commitment not to kill" is absolute fucking MOON LOGIC from a rehabilitationist standpoint. No jury on the planet would think for even a second that she could reasonably be held accountable for her actions in that situation! Her past cannot condemn her to being incapable of valuing human life under a rehabilitation centering framework. However, Batman's reasoning makes perfect sense if he believes that killing is a spiritually/morally corrupting act which permanently and fundamentally changes a person, and that corruption can never be fully undone.

Dick Grayson killing the Joker is treated both narratively and by Batman as an unequivocally WIN for the Joker. The Joker won by turning Nightwing into a killer. Note that this is during a comic in which the Joker transforming people was a major theme! Batman didn't revive the Joker because the Joker deserved to live; he revived the Joker to lift the burden on Dick.

His appeal to Stephanie when she tried to kill her dad is that she shouldn't ruin her own life. He gives no defense of Cluemaster's actual life. Granted this is a rhetorical strategy moment and should be taken with a generous pinch of salt, but it fits in the pattern.

When Jason becomes a willful killer, he essentially disowns him, never treats him with full trust ever again, and... Well, we can stop here for Bruce's sake. Bottom line is that his actions towards Jason do not lead me to believe that he thinks Jason can become a better person without having his autonomy taken from him, either partially or fully.

The Joker is, for better or worse, the ultimate symbol and vessel of pure, irredeemable evil in DC comics now. He hasn't been just another crook in a long time. He will never get better, he will only get worse. If you take it to be true that the Joker will not or can not rehabilitate, then there's no rehabilitationist argument against killing him.

Batman does not seem to consider it a possibly that he'll rehabilitate. Batman at several points seems to think that the Joker dying in a manner no one could have prevented would be good. Yet Batman fully believes that if he killed the Joker, he himself would become irredeemable.

Batman's own form of justice (putting people into the hospital and then prison) is fucking brutal and clearly not rehabilitative. He disrespects the most basic human rights of all criminals on a regular basis. It is genuinely really, really weird from a rehabilitationist standpoint that his only uncrossable line is killing... But it makes perfect sense if he cares more about not corrupting himself with the act of killing than the actual ethical results of any individual decision to kill or not kill.

In the real world cops are all bastards because they are too violent to criminals, even when that violence doesn't lead to death. Prison is a wildly evil thing to do to another human being, and you don't use it to steal away massive portions of a person's life if your goal is to rehabilitate them. In the comic world, Batman is said to be necessary because the corrupt cops are too nice to criminals and keep letting them out of jail. I don't know how to write a connector sentence there so like I hope you can see why this bothers me so damn much! That's just not forgiveness vibes there Batman!!

I want to make special note here of the transformative aspect. You don't simply commit a single act when you kill, no, you become a killer, like you might become a werewolf.

The narrative supports this a lot!

Why did Supes go evil during Injustice? He killed the Joker. Why did Bruce become the Batman Who Laughs? Bruce killed the Joker. Why was Jason Todd close to becoming a new Joker during Three Jokers? Because he killed people, to include the Joker.

Even if these notions of redemption being impossible aren't the whole of his reasoning (people never have only one reason for doing what they do) it is a distinct through-line pattern in his actions and reasoning, and it is directly at odds with notions of rehabilitation, redemption, and second chances.

So why does he give so many killers second chances?

Firstly because this doesn't apply to all versions of Batman. Some writers explicitly incorporate rehabilitation and forgiveness into his actions. You will be able to provide me with examples of this other through-line pattern if you go looking for them. The nature of comics is to be inconsistent.

Secondly the existence of that other pattern does not negate the existence of this one. People and characters are complex, and perfectly capable of holding two patterns of belief within themselves, even when they conflict to this degree. You can absolutely synthesize these two ideas into a single messy Batman philosophical vibescape.

Finally and most importantly to this essay: he has mercy on killers the same way that werewolf hunters sometimes have mercy on someone who is clearly struggling against their monsterous nature, especially if they were turned in exceptional circumstances or against their will. They understand that they are sick, damned beasts, cursed to always be fighting against themselves and the evil they harbor within. It is vitally kind to help them fight themselves by curtailing their autonomy in helpful ways and providing them with chances to do some good to make up for their eternal moral deficiency.

I think in many comics Batman views killers as lost souls. Battered and tormented monsters who must be pitied and given mercy wherever possible. (The connections to mental health, addiction, and rampant, horrifying ableism towards people struggling with both is unavoidable, but addressing it is sadly outside of the scope of this essay.)

Above all, the greatest care possible must be taken to never, ever let yourself become one of them, because once you have transformed the beast will forever be within you growing stronger.

To Batman, it is the most noble burden, the highest mercy, the most important commandment: Thou shalt suffer the monsters to live.

[deansapplepie]

Marchweres Day 1-2

Prompt: Full Moon, Shapeshifting, Predator-Prey

Pairing: Werewolf! Daryl Dixon x f!Reader

Word Count: 1,5k

Warnings: NSFW, smut, predator-prey dynamic, at first it looks like they don’t know each other (it soon is proved to be the opposite), a little role-play maybe(?), mentions of fingering, mentions of cunnilingus, teasing, dirty talking, dumbfication if you squint, praising. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, 18+

A/N: I wrote the werewolf thing in a vibe more Twilight, but at the same time I’m creating my own things about it.

Also, It may or may not be in twd universe. You can consider anything. There’s no mentions of walkers or the apocalypse.

It was full moon. She was big, round and high on the sky. Despite not having a single light with you, it illuminated well almost everything and it also created shadows.

You walked by yourself in the woods, a dumb choice most people would say. The full moon was when monsters crawled from their holes and came to earth so they could feed from humans. Or at least, that was what your grandmother said. You never believed on this shit, until you listened to a howl, and by how the sound was high it came from somewhere close to you.

How could you forget there were wolves in those woods? Why did you come to the woods in the first place?

The leaves rustled nearby, you looked to your sides and saw nothing. You felt a warm breath on your nape and turned very slowly, your heart beaten fast, and the nervousness was all around you. When you turned back you were presented to a big dark brown wolf, it was the biggest wolf you had ever seen, his nose was in the same height as your face. It was so furry and had some white hair here and there, specially around the snout. The wolf’s eyes were a bright blue that could be recognized anywhere, because you never saw something as shiny as it. It let out a small huff and showed a little of teeth and you interpreted that as “Run.”

Your instincts heightened and you turned your back to it and started running. You knew it was stupid. You knew you had no chance. Your 2 little legs against the ginormous wolf 4 legs? No chance! You ran as if your life depended on this. You took some glances at your back and you saw it chasing you. It could be faster, but it wasn’t the intention. The Wolf was playing with you, playing with the food.

You ran as much as your body allowed you, until you were faced with a Stone Mountain, and you had nowhere to go, you turned back to the monster and saw it approaching you, cornering you… planning the exact moment it would jump on you. His blue eyes illuminated the night like two lanterns. You looked both sides, no way to run and you looked back again, it was like he had a grin on his animal face before attacking you and tackling you to the ground.

You closed your eyes for an instant anticipating the fall, the fluffy leaves made floor of the place welcomed your body and when you opened your eyes, there he was… a huge man caging you to the ground, his hands holding yours up your head, his medium length hair falling like a curtain in his face, his wavy hair framing his face, that same blue eyes now adorning his face and when your eyes roomed lower you were presented with his marvelous chest full of scars from old battles and tattoos. Going a little lower you could see his happy trail and your eyes tentatively roomed down, until you heard him. “Ma eyes are up here sunshine…” the gruff voice sending chills throughout your body.

Your eyes moved back to his face and he couldn’t hide the amusement on his face. You smirked at him, and he continued to talk. “You probably sucked at playing hide and seek.” He took a long sniff on your neck and continued to talk in your ear. “Ya were all around the woods. Can’t even hide yourself for living. And yer smell? Could smell your arousal miles away before finding ya.”

“It’s because of the expectation of you catching me.” You admitted.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, of what you’re going to do to me.”

It was true your grandmother told you everything about werewolves, but she never told you how it was to be one or live with one. And if there was one thing you learned it was that every full moon they got so much energy accumulated, having to control themselves and spend this energy hunting… but that wasn’t the best way of spending this energy, it was till they matured and learned that sex was the best option to go through this phase. Just after meeting him you got to learn all of this.

Knowing this, that night, you decided to do a game. More like a tag game than hide and seek, to spend some energy, for the adrenaline to run in your veins, especially his, to build the expectation. But while you did that, you couldn’t help but feel excited all the way through to your ending agreed point.

“So what will the big bad wolf do to me?” You asked looking at him with the best clueless look you could manage to give him.

He held a laugh at your act. “What do ya suggest?”

“I don’t know, this was your idea…”

For fuck’s sake, you had already lost count of how many times he had made you cum. It was like his battery was never low. He started fingering and eating you out, then he made his sick game of teasing your folds, clit and entrance with his dick but not doing what you needed the most… next thing he hammered into you for so long that you lost count of time.

Now after your, god knows how many, orgasm he pounded into you, producing the filthiest sounds of your juices and bodies colliding against each other. You had your arms folded in front of you so you could support your face and prevent from laying it against the leaves, your ass up high while he grabbed your hips and fucked you senseless, otherwise you’d not be able to hold yourself in the position.

“D-D-D-Daryl…” you cried while he hit that spot again and again.

“D-D-D-D…” he mocked you. “So fucked up that can’t even say one simple word.”

Damn… he loved you in every way he could have you, but gods he loved to watch your ass while he disappeared inside of you. He grunted with his thoughts and what he saw in front of him and felt. How could him have so many dirty thoughts about you when he was already doing the dirty?

One of his hands came to your body and helped your body up to be flush against his while he continued trusting his hips on you. One of his hands wandered up your body stopping for a little on your breasts and then continuing its way to your neck stopping there, no pressure just giving you the sensation of being held there. His other hand traveled from your hips down to your clit rubbing torturing circles on it. You whined and whimpered against him, feeling that one more time you were getting close to your release.

“Fuck. Ya always do so good for me, taking everything I give you.” He breathed on your ear. “Do ya have any idea off how good you make me feel?”

Your body trembled, a bunch of moans and incoherent words coming from your lips, you had reached your orgasm one more time. He felt that he was finally getting there, he continued riding your orgasm till he felt like he couldn’t hold it anymore. He pulled out, his cock rubbing up and down between your folds while you where still coming out from your orgasm. He bursted in pleasure spending his seed on your stomach and on the floor. Even though he was deeply tempted on finishing inside of you, he couldn’t. You still didn’t feel prepared to have his puppies so he was waiting for your time.

He laid on the floor holding you in his arms waiting for both of you to recover your breaths. You turned around and your mouth found his giving him a passionate kiss. “I love you, but I don’t know if I can walk.” You pouted.

“Don’t need ta. I’ll carry you home.” He said nuzzling your hair. “I love you, and thank you for spending this time with me.”

“Next full moon again?” You asked, and he laughed he couldn’t believe you had enjoyed this crazy idea.

“If ya want to, yeah.”

You dressed your clothes, Daryl helping you and then you realized he didn’t dress the clothes you brought him on your backpack. “I’m not walking home with your naked ass. Nothing against it, but what if people see it?

“I ain’t walking.” He shifted again into his wolf form and signed with his snout for you to get on his back.

“Really? This isn’t what I imagine when you ask me to ride you.” You joked, he left a huff from his nose, and you knew that was a snort.

He lowered himself so you could get on his back, you laid there on his dark brown fur, one leg on each side and your arms around his neck. As soon as you were on his back and holding yourself, he ran through the woods, this time not behind you, but with you.

Wanna be added to my tag list? Let me know. (Please tell me if you want to be tagged on everything or just specific series) Everything Taglist: @lilyevanstan1325

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[storiesbyrhi]

Witch!Reader x Bat/Vampire!Eddie Munson Series Masterlist The Grimoire The Timeline

Warnings: canon typical violence, horror genre typical violence/some infrequent gore, swearing, animal death, no beta, death in childbirth (mentioned, not described), abusive parents, suicide, spiders/bugs, grief/mourning; light smut; warnings updated each chapter.

Synopsis: No witch has stepped foot in Hawkins since 1845, but when Vecna opens the ground and poisons the town, a voice begins to call to you. Have you been brought back to this cursed place to heal the townspeople’s wounds, to save a hexed bat that always finds its way to you, or to redefine your history with a reunion 150 years in the making?

Chapter Summary: Homeward bound. 2738 words.

1986

Every now and then, you’d catch a glimpse of Eddie swooping by, keeping pace with your car. It was mid-afternoon by the time he grew tired, burrowing into his front seat nest and sleeping until twilight. As soon as the sun was safely locked away on the other side of the world, Eddie chittered and you responded by turning him back into himself.

He stretched out, making dramatic noises and pulling faces.

“You okay there?” you asked him, laughing at the show of it all.

“Only trying to make you smile, my little witch.”

Damn.

“So, you were right,” you changed the subject. “About not being the only non-witch,”

“Wolf, right? I could smell him.” Eddie’s face screwed up in disgust.

“What happened to the support group for monster lovers?”

“I draw the line at lycans.”

The seriousness of his expression made you laugh. “Well, you’ll have to redraw it, because Ev has it bad for him. The others already knew all about it too,”

“And we believed we were special,”

“I mean… We still are… Witches and werewolves aren’t mortal enemies…”

“Of course. Wolves’ mortal enemy being their own tail and all,”

“Eddie! Stop,” you laughed, hitting him with the back of your hand.

He grinned at you, then looked out at the road. “And the other?”

“That one is a bit more of a secret. Ash is seeing one of the fae folk. It’s still very new. Taking it slow… Making sure they’re not actually trying to lure her into some centuries old curse. You know how they are,”

“Trickster sprites,”

“Exactly,” you nodded. “And then there’s Steve fucking Harrington… who has elected to inexplicably haunt Mel,”

“Why? I assume he never met her,”

“Yep, but she came and asked me if the ghost in her house was him. It was. He says he’ll leave her alone but had this stupid puppy dog look on his face… So… Maybe there is a whole new world of witch romances to come.”

Eddie grinned, he liked the sound of it. Though, he really didn’t want a werewolf as a brother-in-law. “Do you want me to take over?” he asked then, pointing to the steering wheel. “I’ve been practicing,”

“And here I was thinking you disappeared in the middle of the night to eat,”

“Oh, I do. I find the worst person I can. I eat them. Then, I take their car for a lesson,”

“A two birds, one stone, kind of thing, huh?”

Eddie nodded with a disconcertingly innocent smile on his face.

“I was thinking about that actually. I think I can help,”

“With which part?” he asked. “The eating or the thieving,”

“Neither. The choosing.”

The joy left Eddie’s expression. He looked away from you, suddenly studying the hardly visible horizon out his window. “You don’t need to be a part of it. You don’t have to have it on your conscience,”

“Neither do you. Not in the same way, at least. What if I can take some of the guesswork out of picking who is, you know, bad,”

“It’s not guesswork. I watch them. I find them while they’re-”

“I know. But what if you didn’t have to wait for them to do something bad? What if you could tell what they had already done?”

Eddie stayed quiet. There was a gas station up ahead, the lights shining brightly. You pulled in and cut the engine.

“I know it’s always going to be on you. You’re always going to have to make that call, about if they have sinned and if the sins are…”

“If they justify death,” Eddie finished for you solemnly and still not looking at you.

“Yes. But what if you could see them? The sins. If you could, I don’t know, just touch someone and see the worst of them. And only when you wanted to. Would that help?”

He was clicking two fingernails together, pensive or maybe anxious. Eddie got out of the car and looked around. There was a family inside the gas station. The kids were screaming about peanut butter cups and soda.

“Would it help you?” he asked after you’d got out and walked around to him. His hands were shoved into the pockets of the sweatpants he’d been getting in and out of, vampire then bat then vampire then bat. “It might make it more precise. But it’s still conjecture. Still a judgment. Still a human death.”

You tried to read him, but he’d locked you out for the moment.

He continued, “Sometimes it hurts. Or, sometimes I think it hurts. Or, I think it should hurt. I don’t know if I can tell the difference. I don’t want to hurt anybody. I can stop myself from hurting them. But I don’t know, really know, if it weighs on my conscious. I don’t even know if I have one.”

It had been easy to get lost in Eddie’s goodness. It had been the important thing to show your coven. But it was never going away, the darkness. He might have been a good vampire, not a properly made monster, but it didn’t change the fact that he was still a vampire.

“If I say it would help me-”

“Then, I am sure, it would help me. What is good for you is good for me,” Eddie told you. “But I can tell which of them are more like me than you. I can see it in their faces. But if this makes you feel more in control of it, then I’ll do anything you ask of me.”

The neon sign of the station buzzed and crackled, the cicadas trilling back at it. The family got in their car and hit the road again, the radio turned right up to drown out the noise of bickering children.

You could see the station’s clerk watching you and Eddie from behind his counter.

“Loving you doesn’t make me feel guilty. I’m not ashamed of what you are,” you told Eddie then, looking back at him. “I’m not trying to make you into something you’re not.”

He nodded. “I know.” He saw it on your face, a flash of exasperation. “What are you trying to do?” he asked. “Because I’m not ashamed of what you are either… You don’t have to be a lawful, virtuous witch.”

There was a small smile playing on Eddie’s lips and you knew it meant he’d cottoned on to the fact that the seed of darkness that lived inside you was working its magic.

“It’s not just about making things easier for you or for me. It could be… A kind of justice…”

“Ohhh,” Eddie almost laughed. “I am your weapon, and if you can point this blade in the right direction, then well fuck, it might work faster than the humans’ courts and witches’ spells?”

Eddie had only recently started to swear, a habit he was picking up from you most likely. Fuck, in particular, sounded terribly good coming from his mouth.

You looked at him and slowly nodded. He threw his head back and laughed into the night. The gas station clerk sighed in relief at the sudden change of atmosphere around you both.

“Oh, my little witch. You do continue to delight me.”

Eddie pulled you into a rough kiss, letting the tips of his sharpest teeth run along your bottom lip. You were warm and tasted so sugary. He had been itching to eat you up since leaving the Catskills.

“I love you,” you said breathlessly when he let you come up for air.

“I love you too. Entirely.”

…

Waking up alone was bittersweet. Although you missed the weight of Eddie next to you, the immediate crawl of his body to yours, it did mean he was likely up to something. Mostly, it was innocent domestic work.

Pre-turning, Eddie never really had a place to call his own. As a vampire, the idea of home meant something different too. But now, the boy could nest. He cleaned and picked flowers to put in vases and glasses all across the trailer. He was also dabbling in cooking, though he could not eat the fruits of his labor.

So, mostly, it was domestic work, but now and then, you would wake up to him doing something different. A week after returning from the Catskills, you and Eddie had fallen back into routine, but this morning was out of the ordinary.

Eddie had stacks of books crowded around him. Pages of handwritten notes were spilled across the coffee table, your altar supplies stacked neatly below it.

“Looking very witchy there,” you greeted, voice gravelly with sleep.

“Hi, my love,” he replied without looking up. “I’m almost finished.”

Looking around, you realised it wasn’t just the books Eddie had been combing through. Herbs and other potion-brewing bits and pieces were lined up along the kitchen bench.

“Almost finished what?” you asked.

“The spell.”

Nodding slowly at him, you waited for the explanation. It never came. Instead, you let him work on his craft and went about your day.

By mid-morning, he was ready.

“Little witch!” Eddie yelled loudly. You were outside, watering your potted plants and herbs. “Little witch! Come!” There was childlike enthusiasm in his voice and it made you smile.

“Where do you need me?” you asked him, but he was already ushering you to the couch.

“I have written you a grounding spell,” he announced.

“A grounding spell?”

“Yes. Something to reconnect you to the natural world. To promote health and healing.”

Eddie was wide-eyed and on the verge of mania. He had a little dirt smeared across his cheek, and it was caked under his nails. Although his hair was pulled back in a bun, single coils of curls had fallen out throughout the night. He was beautiful.

“Go on,” you urged.

“It starts with malus domestica,” he began.

“It always does,” you noted, already holding back a giggle. He could have just said apple. Still so very dramatic.

“They connect you to the earth. Sacred. Biblical.” He really had been doing his homework. “Then, black hellebore root.” Eddie was at the kitchen bench, holding up a jar that he’d already dug through. That explained the dirt.

“I hope you’ve been careful with that,” you warned.

“I know. Extremely toxic. Even witches sometimes wear gloves to handle it,” Eddie said, reciting one of the books he’d read. “But it is also symbolic of rising from the past. And has a long history of use in witchcraft.”

Eddie had read about hellebore poisoning, how it brought on hallucinations but could also cure mental affliction. He read about how it could be harnessed and used in banishing spells and for purification. About white versus black hellebore and all the folklore surrounding them.

“Okay. What do we do with this apple and root?” you asked, playing the part of a captive audience.

“Core the apple and thread the root through it. Let it air overnight, by moonlight. Come morning, it gets wrapped in willow then cooked,”

“Willow?” you tested.

“Willow that is strong and true. Willow that takes pain and fever and grief and releases you from it.”

You nodded and smiled.

“When the apple is cooked through, falling apart, you take the hellebore root and powder it,”

“Then what?”

Eddie hesitated. “Alas, I do not know…” he admitted. “I can’t find a way to close the spell,”

“Do you have any ideas?” you asked, standing up and coming to the kitchen counter. You looked at everything he had pulled out of the apothecary.

“Moreso, bad ideas. What not to do. Consume it, for example,”

“Yeah. That could kill me. Maybe even turn me into a werewolf,” you joked. The look on Eddie’s face was priceless. “Kidding. Hellebore is an active ingredient in lycanthropic ointment though… Mostly it’s used in what we used to call flying ointment, or magic salve. So no, I cannot consume it,”

“Yes… Well… I thought then, returning it to the earth. Burying it. That didn’t feel right,”

“Mmmhmm… I think you have a clue here,” you told him, pulling a bowl of eucalyptus seed pods forward. “Did you read about these?”

Eddie shook his head.

“They’re kind of amazing. Eucalyptus trees are native to Australia, but are planted ornamentally around the U.S. They produce a highly combustible oil through their leaves. Little fire bombs, basically. They catch ablaze easily. But, these little seedpods are fireproof, and when threatened with fire, they drop lots of seeds and fertilise the scorched ground. Within a couple of years, the burnt earth is already returning to its gloriously green form,”

“Very smart of them,”

“Very smart,” you agreed. “Maybe we can learn from them. We can not just withstand the blaze, but add fuel, let it all burn, and start again,”

“The powder… we let it go free…” Eddie said slowly, catching on to what you’re saying.

“Ah-huh. We give it to the wind.”

Working side by side, you and Eddie cored apples and filled the void with black hellebore root. You set them on the kitchen windowsill ready for the moonlight. (You’d have to take down all the window’s covers though, sunproof house and all.)

Eddie was proud. It was written all over his face.

“Now who’s the little witch?” you whispered to him, stepping up to his body, pressing yours to his.

In reply, Eddie pulled you close, wrapping his arms tightly around your frame. He kissed the top of your head then pressed his cheek to it, resting on you.

“Thank you. Nobody has ever written a spell for me before… Well… Not a good one…” You looked up at him. “You are good, Eddie. And you’re allowed to be. You can be… both. Everything,”

“Everything,” he repeated quietly.

“Yeah… So… What now? We can’t work on them until tomorrow.”

Eddie swept you off to the bedroom by the time you opened your eyes after your next blink.

“But it’s not bedtime,” you said voice saccharine and purposefully dumb.

Eddie grinned. “It’s not. I don’t want you to go to sleep now anyway,”

“No?” You sat on the edge of the unmade bed, looking up at Eddie.

He stood between your legs, reaching out to cup your face in his hands, his thumbs running softly across your skin. He smiled wide, teeth sharp. “I’m very, very hungry.”

Eddie rarely let himself taste your blood, though the occurrences were becoming more regular. He was scared of a multitude of things. Not being able to stop. Seeing something in your magic blood he couldn’t unsee. Pissing off some ancient and unknown creature that would resurrect if ever a vampire munched on a witch.

Sometimes, if you begged pretty enough, you’d get a small bite out of him. But it was better when he came asking for it. The soft inner thigh was his greatest weakness.

Lifting your arms up, Eddie followed the instruction and took your shirt off. You fell back against the bed and let him push your skirt up. He dropped to his knees and kissed the tops of your thighs. Up, up, up, until his mouth was bruising the skin above where the femoral artery was pumping blood.

You still didn’t know how he did it, how he could make it feel so good. You didn’t want to know. It was his own secret vampire magic and it was one mystery that would never appear on your murder board.

Eddie’s teeth sank in and your hot, red blood began to flow. He pushed you further back on the bed, then held your leg up, so the blood would pour down towards where you were already wet. His tongue lapped at blood and arousal fast. He didn’t waste a single drop.

You writhed under him, eyes screwed shut, and body on fire. The vibration of his tongue was pulling you ever closer to climax, but he wouldn’t stay in one spot long enough to let you get there.

Eddie grabbed your hand and smashed it to where he’d bitten you. “Heal it,” he growled, barely able to form words. You did what he said and he licked your palm clean of blood as a thank you. He hooked his arms under your legs and ripped you back to the edge of the bed. Then, he was positioned exactly where he needed to be to let you get there.

End Note: We're back in Hawkins... Now what? Reblogs and comments are appreciated!

Fic Taglist:  @paranoidmunson  @idkidknemore @paprikaquinn @stardustworlds @loz-brooke @wyverntatty @vintagehellfire @dark-academia-slut @scarletwitchwhore @becks1002 @mrsdollardog @heyndrix @luceneraium @rosaline-black @devilinthepalemoonlite @goldencherriess @iamwhisperingstars @wiltedwonderland @blueywrites @breezybeesposts @jadehowlettthewolf @spikesvamp79 @foreveranexpatsposts @tortoiseshellspells @wingedpeachjudgegiant @stardustmunson @live-love-be-unique @fangirling-4-ever @reanimated-alice @b-irock @gh0stlybunnie @myown-worstenemy-2003 @woozzz @cyberxlust @hiscrimsonangel @buckysbarne @m00nlight101 @word-wytch @spicysix @briasnow-blog @goth-cowgirl-03

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[desi2go]

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝟏𝟒𝟑

part 1 part 2 part 3

Pairing: Lee know x reader

Warning: some angst, fluff ... Soulmate au/werewolf au

Summary: Minho is a werewolf and you are a normal human girl. But the universe bonded your souls at eachother. You were his mate but he doesn't want a soulmate. Not a werewolf and neither a human. Or so he thought...

In the past, there were many werewolves. There were more of them then humans. And at first both species tolerated each other. They lived side by side for centuries but the humans were never fond of these "wild animals" as they called them. But as the humans grew more anxious and afraid about these mysterious creatures with the power of turning into a wolf and heightened senses, they began to hunt them down. Pack after pack. Wolf after wolf until only a small amount of packs survived, forced to hide their identity and to live amongst the humans. They were forced to suppress their wolf side and to control it, even on fullmoon.

Time passed and the people forgot about their existence. Truth turning into a myth that only were believed by crazy people. Even though it was true.

Minho was one of these creatures. Since birth. As a young child, he didn't understand why his parents always told him to hide his wolf side. But as he went to high school, he understood it. Humans were crazy. Everyone that wasn't like them, like the standard, was not normal, an outsider. They even treated other humans like trash because they were different. How pathetic.

After his graduation, he decided to go to college. With his good grades, he was soon accepted and moved in with some his pack members that studied ther too. That is when he met you, a smart humangirl with a big heart. You sat in one of his classes with a bunch of notes and hair up into a messy bun. At first, he didn't understand why he was so attracted to you, especially his inner wolf. Normally, he never had interests in humans.

Whenever you were near him, he would force Minho to overcome these few metres and to hold you in his arms, to mark you and make you finally his. Just with his whole strength he could hold his distance. You were just like any other girl, so he thought.

So, why went his wolf so wild? That's when he realised that you were in fact his mate, his soulmate that was meant to be with him for the eternity. Why? Why you? You were just another human. A normal human without any special skills.

He was never fond of the idea of having a soulmate, even if his other half would be another wolf. But a human? That was bullshit. Sure, you didn't even feel something. Like a pull or attraction to him. When he told his friends, his own little pack, they were beyond happy. "That's great Minho! Have you already planned how to ask her out?" Changbin asked. "I know the perfect place for your first date!" Felix shouted from the kitchen while baking his famous brownies. "No? She is a human!" Minho answered.

" And that's the problem? Come on, she wouldn't just hunt you down." Seungmin laughed and stepped into the kitchen to help Felix with his brownies.

"Give her a chance, Minho. Maybe she isn't that bad" Chan adviced. He is lucky. He already found his soulmate two years ago in the hallway of the college because he almost ran her over. And she is a werewolf so that she felt the pull of the bond too.

Minho just scoffed and changed the topic. He doesn't want a mate not a werewolf one and neither a human one. Since that day he decided to ignore you and don't even come in the near of you.

......

Well, he made that decision without the universe and destiny.

Just one week later, the whole class was split into groups of two to work on a partner project. And the professor unfortunately picked you two as partners. How ironic.

You quietly sat down next to him, preparing some notes. "So, where should we start? Do you want to do the research together?" you questioned. His inner wolf drove him insane. He never was so near to you and with his heightened sense of smell, he could even smell you. It was a sweet scent like hyacinths and a hint of roses. He knew that if he was longer then ten minutes near you, he would loose control and give in to his inner desire to get closer. So, he stood up and ran out the classroom.

You just watched him leave and were confused. Why did he leave? Was working with you so terrible? Everyone in class had noticed his escape and stared at you. You ducked down and quietly worked on your tasks. Asshole, you thought.

.....

Minho knew that he was an asshole. It was rude to leave like that and even if he felt terrible for that, he still doesn't want you as a mate or doesn't even want to be near you.

The next day, you approached him in the library since you doesn't want to work alone on this project. "What is your problem with me?" You asked him. "I-uhm. I don't know what you mean." He answered like he didn't know what you are talking about. "Minho, please. Don't play dumb. You just ran away from me yesterday." You sighed and blocked his way as he tried to escape another time.

"I'm sorry. It wasn't meant to look like that. I-uh. I had an emergency so I had to leave" he lied. "My next class isn't until 3 pm, so I have about two hours. Want to do something on the project?"

He just nodded and took his backpack from the stool next to him, so you could sit down there. "Sure, I have plenty of time either"

He knew that he couldn't ran from you at least not until the project is done. The next two hours are spend researching and answering the questions as you worked side by side.

Sometimes you catched Minho staring at you but you shrugged it off and concentrated on the book in front of you.

....

After your last class you rubbed your eyes and leaned back. Finally, you could go to your little apartment on the campus and rest. You walked down the floor to the exist of the college. Outside, you stopped as you saw the dark grey sky and the rain. You searched in your backpack for your umbrella since your apartment was ten minutes away and you don't to be soaking wet.

Soon you realised that you left your umbrella at home because you didn't think that a rainstorm is about to come. You pulled your thin sweater tighter around your body as you slowly started freezing and walked into the rain.

Head low, you ran through the storm. "Y/n! Wait!" You heard behind you. It was a familiar voice. You immediately knew who it was, Minho.

Slowly you turned around. When Minho came up to you, he held his umbrella over your heads and brushed his dark hair out of his face. His gaze drifted over your shivering body. Immediately he took his jacket off and layed it over your shoulders.

"Come, I'll walk you home" he said and got closer to you so that both of you wouldn't get wet. Quietly you held his warm jacket closer and enjoyed his smell. He smelled so nice even if you would never mention it to him.

"Thank you Minho" you slightly bowed to him as you took his cloth from your shoulders and handed it to him. You arrived at your apartment without getting too wet. "Sure, see you tomorrow." He smirked and turned around walk to his little pack house.

When he saw you running in the rain nearly completely soaked til the bones, something in him switched. He needed to help you. So, he followed you with his umbrella in one hand. As he was close to you, he noticed that you shivered. Confused, you looked at him. Your hair was wet and little raindrops falling on your face. Immediatly, he stripped his jacket off and layed over you. His inner wolf was satisfied that you will smell like him.

Maybe you weren't that bad.