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corazondebeskar-reads · 23 days

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of rage and ruin - chapter one

of rage and ruin series

chapter one

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werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.1k

summary: Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He turns into a much different kind of monster than he expected, though.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, torture, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, gore, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), death, murder of innocent people, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, no y/n, reader is able-bodied and afab with no specific descriptions, viewer discretion is advised

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

This is a werewolf omegaverse fic that uses traditional and non-traditional elements of the genres. It largely ignores TLOU canon.

DISCLAIMER: A plotline of this story involves unethical medical care and human experimentation re: vaccines. It may give anti-vax vibes. This is NOT an anti-vax story and I do not want any related discourse please and thank you. This is about FEDRA being the absolute worst, not about the real world in any way.

In a rare moment of lucidity, he thinks he used to be human, once.

He’s partially transformed more often than not. Almost never fully, unless he’s under the sway of the moon. His real keeper.

These raiders may think they own him, but he knows the truth.

But lucidity is rare, and most of the time, Joel Miller is more beast than man.

Most of the time, he doesn’t even know he’s Joel Miller.

No matter what, though, he’s a nearly uncontrollable force of nature.

That’s why they keep a shock collar around his neck and tasers at their waists. That’s why they never turn their backs or leave him unrestrained. He fought like hell for a long time until he broke.

No shame in it, he knows. Everyone breaks eventually.

As the years have gone on, though, he’s been getting restless and snippy, less cooperative. And the pain doesn’t really matter anymore.

Nothin’ really does when you’ve given up.

On the last new moon, when the wolf was quiet and the man was loud, he’d tried to refuse. He sat, buck-ass naked, on the gritty wood floor of the house they were raiding.

He did not sniff out treasure like some fucking metal detector. He did not tear the humans limb from limb. He did not feast.

He paid for that night and had the receipts to prove it, laid into his back from the silver-tipped whip.

He should have tried harder to die at the start.

He hadn’t understood right away, when they took him. It, frankly, didn’t even cross his mind that they’d know. Laura, the woman in the woods, had been so sure it was secret.

He got it when they shot him in the leg with a BB gun, though, and the silver shrapnel burned. They were prepared. Silver-coated chains and cuffs, silver-tipped batons and whips and knives. Cattle prods and electric collars.

They’d been hunting him.

They tried to break him easy, first. They were looking for a wolf; didn’t know they’d find Joel Miller. They left him chained in an abandoned suburb, giving him just the minimum food and water to keep him alive.

It worked to weaken him, but they didn’t want him weak forever. Not a very good guard dog or weapon if he can’t lift his head. So when that didn’t work, when he didn’t beg and plead or bend the knee, they gave up and bulked him back up slowly.

So they tried pain next.

He came to know the healing as a curse. They avoided the silver, at least at first, since it’d leave damage. But when they found out they could break his bones over and over and over?

That’s when he started to wish he was dead. What was the point, anyway? He couldn’t go back to Boston. Couldn’t risk himself around Tommy and Tess.

Couldn’t kill himself if he tried, but they could, with their arsenal.

Didn’t matter what he wanted in the end; his brain wouldn’t give in. It overrode his silent pleas, and it fought and fought and fought.

So they took him on a raid. Starving, chained under the full moon, and they waited. He couldn’t go far, but he didn’t have to.

They brought the food to him.

“You’ve no control over it, huh?” Cheryl said after, leering into his “room.” They send her to play nice, but he knows she’s the worst of them all. They just think he’ll smell pussy and roll over. “We didn’t need you to kill them. You just need to scare them and help us find what we’re lookin’ for.”

They had him. He knows, he knows, he knows. He’d have done anything to stop it from happening again. From devouring tied-up families who dared to say “no” to Jim and his crew. From throwing up blood and bones and bows.

He can’t kill himself. They won’t kill him. He had no choice.

He broke.

This new moon, they don’t take him out to scavenge. No, instead, they drag him outside and spray him down with the hose. This, in itself, is not unusual. But when they force the muzzle over his snapping teeth to scrub at his skin with precious lye soap and a rag, he starts to get concerned.

His suspicions are confirmed when they take him back inside.

The only time he’s left unbound is here, in his room. Well. It meets the vague requirements for a room, but it’s also reinforced with silver-plated steel and concrete. Cheaply so, but enough to mute his senses and hopes.

Usually, they wait until the grate is shut to unclip the lead. They wait until he kneels and offers his hands to unlock the shackles. When he’s been good, of course.

But not today. Today, they chain him tight to the wall at the far end of the room.

They’ve had this theory that he hates to admit is not without merit. Looking for another way to control him, they’ve tried to find him an omega.

The first few times, they just forced him on them out wherever they’ve raided. Usually, he’s too out of control, and they don’t survive the encounter.

The most recent time, they dumped one in his cell. But the poor thing still smelled of his alpha, having only lost them hours earlier.

Joel didn’t react well.

They’re trying something new, now.

That he’s here while they clean his room is deliberate. He knows this. They’re purging all his scent from it, and they want him to watch, want him unsettled.

He growls when they remove his mattress completely. It’s a pathetically small, thin, hole-ridden thing, but it’s his.

Before they drag in a new one, a flat pack of grated metal is tossed in the corner. Two of his captors go to work on assembling the contraption, and another leaves for a while, only to return with a sawed-off portion of his mattress.

It fits neatly inside the cage. For that’s what they’ve constructed. It’s silver-coated, of course, but pathetically weak otherwise. If he truly desired, he could snap the bars as easily as bone.

He’s not keen on having burnt hands, though.

Just inside the front of the cage, they clip up a bit of cloth. He doesn’t need to be told what it is, knowing immediately after it’s extracted from the airtight glass Tupperware.

They tell him anyway. “Got a new toy for you to try, if you’re good. For now, this is all you get.”

The heady scent of omega soaked into the panties permeates his room.

He’s salivating a little by the time they finally release him, but he waits until the heavy footfalls echo from down the hall to give in.

They smell divine. He can’t resist tasting, lapping at the tiniest hint of musk and omega under his elongated tongue.

“Told ya he would have shredded her,” Jim says to Cheryl when they come in the morning with his breakfast. Joel’s in his mind enough to feel a little shame, back of his neck burning, when they see the tattered fabric.

It’s clear they anticipated it because, along with his tray, he’s given a new pair.

They’re not so appealing this time. The sweet scent is cut by acidic fear like vinegar through molasses. He ignores them in favor of his meal.

He eats better here than he ever did out there. He’s worth more rations to the raiders than to FEDRA. Robust meals full of meat and eggs and potatoes.

They need him strong, after all.

It’s not until a few hours later that he’s drawn back in by the underwear. It’s not so acrid anymore. Or maybe it is, and he’s just in the mood. Either way, he buries his face in them while he strokes his cock and uses them to catch his cum when he finishes.

There. That’s better. The mix of him with… whoever you are.

When they bring him lunch, they make him put the panties on his old tray before pushing it out to them. He doesn’t burn with shame this time; no, he almost feels proud. Like a peacock fluffing out its feathers. They know now. They must.

Whoever you are, you’re his.

The next day, they bring back the same pair. He wolfs out a little at the fresh layer of you over his cum. It’s all fear and tears and disgust, but it doesn’t matter, doesn’t matter at all, not to him, not to the wolf.

All that matters is how his head fills with static when he licks across the gusset and howls.

Cheryl’s looking pretty smug on the other side of the door, but for all that she’s pleased with the results; they still threaten to turn on the collar if he doesn’t eat quickly.

He’s nearly fully wolf, gobbling down the food and returning to his treasure. He snarls as he strokes his cock, the head angry and purple as he tugs. He doesn’t spill onto the panties this time, not wanting to cover up the perfect combination of your scents. In the end, they’re shredded anyway, as his fingers stretch and break into claws.

In his full glory, his senses are even sharper. Sharp enough that he can hear a faint sobbing across the building and Cheryl’s sharp laughter.

“I don’t know,” she’s drawling when he tunes in. “He sounds pretty excited to meet you.”

The soft sobbing turns raw and cracked. He can smell the salt and phlegm, can practically taste it in the air. He’s aware of Cheryl, but nothing is louder than the way your heart is tripping over itself.

When Cheryl’s words sink in, when he realizes he might actually get to have whatever delicious creature they’ve gotten him, he howls again, a long, aching sound that creeps down your bones like frost.

Later, when he’s a little more present, he realizes they didn’t shock him either time he howled. It’s usually a guarantee.

Whatever game they’re playing, it doesn’t bode well for you.

Joel Miller made it twelve years into the apocalypse without getting bit. He wasn’t even worried when it happened. They’d been heading back to the QZ, him and Tommy and Tess, when a wild dog attacked them.

Or, well. A wolf.

Tommy had gotten a bullet in its head, but it had Joel’s arm in its jaw at the time. Its teeth had rent through his jacket like a spoon in a banana split.

FEDRA would shoot him without a second thought, so they doubled back to the little cabin and hunkered down. Figured they’d lay low long enough for it to be hideable before sneaking back in.

Tommy went out at daybreak for the carcass—it’d be leagues better than what they had in their bags. When he came back, he was faint and empty-handed.

“...don’t make any sense,” he kept muttering, pacing the tiny kitchenette.

Joel and Tess exchanged a glance.

“Probably a bear took it,” she suggested.

Tommy ran his hand through his hair, shook his head, and did it again. When he looked up at them, it was through wild, unpredictable eyes. “Wasn’t a wolf. It was a man.”

“What’re you talkin’ about?” Joel said.

“C’mon.”

They followed him through the thicket, and sure as shit, in the same place the wolf’s corpse had lain was a man with a bullet through his skull. He was completely nude.

“Gotta be a coincidence,” Joel muttered.

Tommy turned to him, eyes wide and hands shaking. “What kind of fucking coincidence is this?”

There was a rustle, and they all turned, guns raised, as a woman peeked from behind a tree.

She put her hands up and waited. Tess jerked her head to one side, and they lowered but did not stow their weapons.

The woman was in a ratty cotton dress with no shoes; autumn leaves crunching underfoot.

“That’s, um. That’s my husband,” she said softly.

“Apologies, ma’am,” Tommy said, his face soft and sad. “But—I think he attacked us.”

Her green eyes grew wide, pupils dilating and breath catching in her chest. “Did you get bit?”

Tommy and Tess instinctually looked at Joel.

“What’s it to ya?” he said.

“Did you get bit?” she repeated.

“Was he Infected?”

“Not with cordyceps, no,” she says. She avoids looking at the body but flinches when she brushes a foot against a blood-soaked leaf.

“What does that mean?” Tommy said.

“I think it’s best we go someplace and talk.”

Against better judgment, they follow her through the words to her home. She claims to have two kids alone there, four years and six months.

It turns out to be true. She gets them both down for a nap and serves hot stew. They try to refuse, but she insists.

Tommy feels a little sick eating the food of a man he killed. They all listen, rapt, as she begins to speak.

“It happened a year ago. But it wasn’t an accident.”

When the full moon is two days away, Joel is nearing the furthest from himself. Same shit, different month, but his reactions to your scent are getting, well, feral.

They’re bringing him strips of cloth, now. He gets a new one with each meal. He doesn’t destroy them anymore. Oh, no. When he’s clearer, he wishes he did.

But no. He smells and licks and then jerks off with them. If only that were the worst of it. He’ll come to be mortified during the waning, but he starts to add them to the cage. It’s fairly saturated with the smell of him from his old mattress, but it pleases the beast within to line it with the sweet mixture soaked into the torn sheets.

You’ll understand, then, the wolf thinks. You’ll know it’s safe for you. Somewhere he’s made, a den all your own where he can keep you.

But you won’t know, because what you know is very little.

When FEDRA started asking for volunteers to test vaccines, you didn’t hesitate. You knew the risks. And the rewards—room and rations for the length of the observation period, anywhere up to a year in length. You knew there would be a catch—probably many, but given that you rarely had a room or rations, it wasn’t a hard choice.

But this was the end of the world, and “informed consent” was not something that survived the outbreak.

They worked in batches. A truckload of live bodies at a time. Sterilizing showers with the barest trace of privacy, dressed in stiff starchy scrubs, and led into little cubicles where nurses with needles sat in wait.

A quick jab to the upper arm, and then you were off. The hospital was an old correctional facility, but again, for someone who hadn’t had a bed on a reliable basis, you felt only relief.

Until the deaths started.

They didn’t even try to hide it. Within 24 hours of arrival, a fourth of your group was gone. Carted out in black bags marked with β and nothing more said. You watched through your window like everyone else.

Someone came around the next day and drew blood from every remaining subject, and the tagging began after that. You could see the symbols on other’s doors, but not your own. α or Ω. What they meant, you couldn’t begin to guess.

It started not long after.

The changes.

At first it was so subtle, you may not have noticed, but a nurse came by each day to ask you a series of increasingly embarrassing questions.

What do you smell? What do I smell like? What does your sweat smell like? How sensitive are your breasts? Describe your vaginal discharge. How aroused are you on a scale of 1-10?

They began weekly tests. Blood draws once a week and daily urine samples, of course, but also hearing and vision. They made you run on a treadmill hooked up to wires.

And then, one day, after six months of intensive observation, they moved you.

Or. They tried to.

You were exhibiting a specific set of side effects, they said. You were to be transferred to another facility for subjects with the same side effects for further observation.

Raiders took out the truck halfway through the ten-hour journey. It was… it was a bloodbath, actually. For the FEDRA officers, anyway.

When they had you all lined up, grippy socks soaking in the ankle-deep mud, well, that was when you all learned which symbol was on your door. They couldn’t keep the word out of their mouths. Omega.

Not that it fucking explained anything.

One by one, a short blonde with a bob went down the line of you and shoved something up to each omega’s face. That’s it. It seemed to have no greater purpose.

But for some reason, when she pressed the cloth against your nose and mouth, she smiled. And they separated you.

Whatever that was had a deep, oaky musk, like the illicit brewery operating out of the warehouse you often slept in before the trials.

They tell you nothing.

They make you sleep on strips of cloth, so you roll around in the pile as you toss and turn, rubbing your sweat and slick and pheromones all over.

They don’t bring you anything of his, but you catch faint whiffs of him (him, always him, they never call him by a name), of those aged, liquor-soaked barrels, but all it does is make you nauseous. You don’t understand how you know it’s him; you still don’t understand any of it.

You learn very quickly not to ask questions.

They take him out on the night the moon is full and bloated, hanging over him like a searchlight. See, it whispers, I can find you anywhere. Anywhere. It doesn’t matter. If it didn’t, the wolf would find it anyway.

He is not himself.

He is his truest self.

He is two or one; neither yet both. A monster movie mashup of fur and teeth and roughshod science experiments conducted by a doctor who wasn’t a doctor at all. He’s the monster’s victim. He’s the monsters’ monster.

He’s the wolf and the wolf is him.

He’s The Wolf and he’s swallowed Joel down.

He’s the man, the weak link, buried so deep he can’t see the light of his celestial mistress

He’s Joel Miller. Sometimes, sometimes.

Tonight, he is gone. There is only the Wolf.

And the Wolf knows. As soon as they cross the threshold, he knows.

Dawn is rising, the hunt is over, but he’ll be the wolf for a while longer. And he knows that fuckin’ smell.

It’s the saccharine sour mix of you. Heavy on your sweet apple undertones, and oh, he knows.

You’re in the cage.

next chapter

*title from "Bad Moon Rising" by Creedence Clearwater Revival.

😬 I've been working on this baby for a long, long time, so I will be drinking your likes and comments desperately. thank you for reading and i love you.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #alpha!joel miller x omega!reader #alpha!joel miller #werewolf joel miller #the last of us fic #joel miller fic #dark fic #dead dove fic #a/b/o verse #fic: of rage and ruin #a/b/o au

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allthingswhumpyandangsty · 25 days

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inspired by this poll 😚

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taegimood · 4 months

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epic need for your own thoughts on craveverse.. assign some kinks to the boys hehee

OMG WAIT WAIT RAHHHHHHHHHHHH i’m scared to get their characters wrong cuz they’re yours but i’ll try omg this is exciting wait

(edit: i accidentally added some plot in there lmao sorry also this is LONGG and these kinks aren’t anything taboo [for us at least 💀] but hopefully it’s still interesting~)

yeonjun: okay, do we need to say it? breeding kink. wants you to belong to him forever. wants your tummy full of the evidence that he was there. exhibitionism, he wants everyone to know you’re his and how good he can fuck the daylights out of you; he shamelessly fucks you around the others all the time, possessive as all hell, since he makes you share the living room together. also kisses you constantly, possessively, tongue in your mouth if he gets so much as an inkling that another member has their eyes on you when it’s yeonjun’s turn to keep you to himself, maintaining eye contact with said member as he kisses you until the younger backs down submissively. idk if there’s a name for this (is it the same as dumbification?) but loves it when you get into subspace.. loves knowing he fucked you completely dumb and has all the power over you. he loves spit.. always spitting in your mouth, spitting on your pussy before he rails it, spitting on his cock as he shoves it down your throat. loves it when you suck on his fingers and whine for him too <3 anything that shows you’re even remotely enjoying it, he’s all over that shit.. it helps aid how toxicly and utterly convinced he is that you belong together, forever. some could even argue that out of all of them, yeonjun might just have the most screws loose — you’d just never know it until you wake up one day and then suddenly you do.

soobin: SOOBIN… soobin is a closeted freak… if yeonjun saw half the things that went on in his submissive little member’s head, he’d be outraged lmao. although soobin doesn’t fuck you as often as some of the others do, he wants you just as much - he just doesn’t show it. has this fantasy of marking you, and covering your entire body too; he just wants to bite and nibble you everywhere and is always trying to scent you in small ways just subtle enough that yeonjun won’t notice and be set off. in his mind he’s making you his in his own tiny little ways. soobin is more possessive than you’d think (flashback to what i sent you about him shoving beomgyu to the floor) and as sweet as he is, he‘s also got a guilty pervertedness to him when you come crying to his bedside asking to be held… that’s right, I’M the one she needs. he also has a cockwarming kink for sure. will pump his cock into you nice and steady before keeping you there <3 whispers in your ear how your pussy was made just for him, but don’t tell yeonjun~ and of course i will forever be on the sticky cum soobin agenda - he has a fat creampie kink that he shamelessly exhibits every time he fucks you, will literally overstimulate himself just so he can keep fucking more and more and more of his thick cum into your little hole~ but he’s also just a sweetie and will kiss you all the time during sex too, taking full advantage of the moments when he can finally let his affection loose as opposed to his usual awkward demeanor when it comes to things like kissing outside of sex. leaves your lips swollen and wet from all the sucking and nibbling hehe

beomgyu: dacryphilia. wants to see you sob. also a breeding kink tbh for the pure sake of OWNING you, not about the actual outcome of pups.. like yeonjun, he loves when you get into subspace, but unlike yeonjun, there’s no affection there. it’s just the pure ego boost of knowing he can mold you into his own little cocksleeve. he has this secret cuckolding-esque fantasy of fucking your brains out while all the other boys sit and watch, while only he’s able to touch you.. sigh, if only yeonjun would let him. obviously has a degradation kink, he’s projecting onto you all the shit that he was constantly belittled with by his past female alpha </3 he’s so toxic lmao but — this may be controversial — deep deep DEEP deep DEEEEEP down…… there’s a part of him that really just wants to be seen. wants to be held. wants to be someone for somebody. it’s just so buried beneath all the rage and hurt and spite that you’ll never know it; and HE’LL never know it either tbh, so blinded by himself and his hatred. (the closest thing you get is when he pretends to be asleep so you can card your fingers through his hair and then grumbles about it later <3)

taehyun: sir kink? 🫣 ohhhhhhh….. taehyun. mr difficult to decipher. you’re convinced he hates you and he actually does except — he kind of doesn’t. as mean as beomgyu is, taehyun is nasty. sometimes it seems like he’s fucking you more out of anger and spite than out of the desire to get off. but he’ll be damned if he ever admits to you or anyone else how hard he actually gets when you clutch onto him desperately, the force of his thrusts shoving you up the bed, leaving your hands flying to grip onto the nearest stable thing, always choosing his firm and solid figure. he wants you to need him. he has a power kink, but not like some of the other boys.. he’s the most level-headed of the group, with an innate need to protect, that goes beyond basic possessiveness. so his size and strength kinks come into play when he can manhandle you any which way, even holding you right up in the air, practically folded in half as he fucks you stupid. he likes the fact that you can’t even overpower him if you tried. and deep down under the hate, he likes the fact that he can protect you against anything that tries to hurt you. so sometimes when he isn’t making you sob and cry from the nasty spite that oozes out of him as he pummels your pussy, he’s actually — don’t point this out to him or he’ll rip your head off — pretty focused on making you feel good in his own taboo way, just so you know it’s him that makes you feel this way, it’s him with all that power and strength who’s capable of all the worst and all the best that you could get.

kai: oh boy. kai is an anomaly. easily the sweetest member, while also easily the most RABID (not literally 😳) because like you’ve said, he’s still learning how to control his wolf. he has all these big emotions and senses that can stretch so far out of his grasp sometimes, he just can’t get a hold of himself… so when he’s in his rut… you better fucking prepare yourself. he wants all of you, everything he can get, so selfish and needy and ravenous when his cock is pistoning itself in and out of your pussy without restraint, holding your hips down with your ass up and face buried in the sheets, skin red and bruising from the force of his skin slapping against yours from behind; don’t know if this counts as a kink, but he’s constantly flipping you into different positions. it’s like he just can’t get enough. he’s a starved man when it comes to you AND - he’s one of the only members who has a massive pussy eating kink. he’ll overstimulate you into high heaven until you’re clawing at him and begging him to stop with your hips in the air as he eats you out like it’s his best and last meal. but when he’s not in rut, he loves to hold you down in his lap and finger you sweetly, licking and kissing at your neck and shoulders as you keen around his long agile fingers <3 loves his hair being played with but unlike grumpy gyu, he’ll actually admit to it and even ask for it after sex :’)

anyway… crave!txt has me in a death grip that i do not want to escape. all hail mother lia.

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lilacevans · 1 year

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'*•.¸♡ 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒈 𝒎𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 ♡¸.•*'

: ̗̀➛ werewolf!ari levinson x human!reader. background: werewolf!curtis everette x reader, werewolf!andy barber x reader, vampire!lloyd hansen x reader, hybrid!nomad steve rogers x reader, vampire!ransom drysdale x reader, werewolf!jake jensen x reader

: ̗̀➛ summary: the new moon triggers some unusual behaviours for ari, and you need to make more than one hard decision.

: ̗̀➛ part of the kills & kisses verse!

: ̗̀➛ word count: 5,110

: ̗̀➛ warnings: mild descriptions of violence, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, grumpy ari, ari in a rut.

: ̗̀➛ notes: this was supposed to be a blurb completed within a night; it's become whatever the fuck this is. i hope u enjoy it. this is my first proper fic on here. like, well, at least one of this length. pls lemme know what u think!! send me some asks & we'll talk about it. *this is unfinished

: ̗̀➛ playlist: the kills & kisses playlist is here!

In the days before the full moon, Ari usually struggled a little with his moods. This time, however, things seemed much worse. The week before, his mood began to deteriorate, he became tenser and less talkative. He'd tuck himself away more often in his study, finding comfort surrounded by dusty books, rather than in the company of his housemates.

On the first day, you would notice nothing out of the ordinary, just a tightening of his jaw, downturned lips, and heavy, long sighs over trivial things that wouldn't normally bother him. A split cup of coffee, a mess in the living room, shared attention.

Whereas a few days earlier, he would be patient and thoughtful; by the third day, he would become snappy and in some cases downright mean; cruel, even. His harsh words and sudden outbursts made tears flow down your cheeks, and your head hung low before you could hear him apologise and wrap you in a warm hug.

''Goddamn it, Pup!'' Ari suddenly explodes, interrupting your excited and enthralled ramblings over a new book, forcing you to jump out of your skin and clutch the book to your chest, and clam up. ''I'm trying to fucking work. Bother someone else!''

You stared at him, swallowed the lump in your throat, and willed the tears in your eyes to not fall. You took a step back and whispered a small apology before darting out of his study. You told yourself it was just the full moon, repeating it like a mantra in your head as you made your way to your room. As soon as the door closed behind you, you threw the book to the ground and sat by the window as tears began to fall while looking out at the manor grounds.

An hour later, Ari let himself into your room, closing the door behind him with his hands tucked in his pockets and a dejected look on his face. Seeing him stand so sheepishly brought back memories of when you first entered the house before it was your home; reminding you of how scared you were, how you never wanted to be ever again after you found he was safety disguised as danger. No one would ever know what a true, sweet soul he was. His softness was something he reserved for you in spades.

''It's the moon, pup,'' he explained, cutting into the silence, still a tightness to his voice. ''I don't mean to be like this, and I'm overdue for a rut, it's just… Fucking with me. I'm sorry. I know this isn't fair on you.'’

''I know you don't mean it,'' You sniffled as you pulled your legs to your chest, wrapping your arms around them and resting your chin on your knees, peering up at him with wet doe eyes, ''I just wish you didn't have to feel like this. I can't imagine what it's like.''

''You'll find out once you choose what you want to be, either way, you'll be battling mastering control and suppressing gnawing impulses,'' Ari sighed, tightening his lips into a short smile as he made his way over to you. ''And, there ain't no way I'm letting you age past me, pup, so you better get to choosing,'' Ari said with a subdued laugh.

''Still thinking,'' You hummed, eyes falling closed as he leaned down to briefly kiss your forehead. You smiled despite still being stung by his off behaviour. ''Seeing you like this, watching the others struggle with their own things, I'm not sure I want to be either,'' you admitted, sighing as Ari nodded slowly. ''I just don't understand why the others don't get the same way. Yeah, Steve can be a little moody. Andy gets all quiet... Curtis doesn't seem to mind it much, not even Jake, and he's like, a newborn werewolf, but nothing like how you get.''

''Everyone handles it differently, pup. It affects us in different ways. I wish it didn't mess with us at all.''

By day five, getting him to talk to you became impossible. He'd be withdrawn and quiet, and everyone would end up walking on eggshells around him. He'd become more possessive, more handsy, you couldn't move without him following close behind.

Even during the most mundane tasks, he was right beside you.

You'd be making breakfast, and he'd be standing right behind you. His fingers crept under the hem of your shirt and rubbed at the skin of your hips, before smoothing his hands over your belly and nosing at your neck. Soft rumbles vibrated from his chest, wet lips grazed behind your ear. Sometimes, he'd dip his hands down your shorts and dance his fingers along the waistband of your panties.

Every time you attempted to push for a little space, you'd earn a defiant growl in response, and he'd cling harder to you.

''Ari, I can't move,'' you whined, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. Ari nuzzled his nose further into the crook of your neck, a soft growl emitting from deep in his throat, fingers massaging the meat of your waist. ''I need to get to the stove,'' You tried again, but it was no use.

''Let her move, Ari,'' Steve instructed as he strolled into the kitchen, coffee cup in hand. ''We ain't gonna get to eat if you don't let the little lady cook for us.'

Before you even got the chance to laugh, Ari was gone from behind you and snarling in Steve's face. The men were so close, their foreheads were almost touching. Ari's shoulders were back, hands balled into fists, and breathing heavily. Steve had his hands up in defence, a feeble attempt to defuse the situation. You dropped the spatula and knocked the egg mixture to the floor as you rushed over to pull Ari back.

''Hey, none of that,'' You scolded, pulling on his arm. ''Come away from him,'' you said sharply, placing a hand on Ari's shoulder and waving for Steve to back up, which he did slowly and cautiously. You tried to gain Ari's attention, but his eyes stayed locked on Steve until he left the kitchen. The door swung heavily behind him. That's when Ari relaxed and closed his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest, his face buried in your neck again.

''What the hell was that?'' You demanded, but got nothing but a grumble in response as Ari ran his hands over your back. You let out a defeated sigh and lifted your arms around his neck. ''You're gonna end up killing someone,'' you murmured, shaking your head when you get nothing but a short growl in response.

You spent the rest of the day putting out fires. Ari had lunged at Curtis, teeth inches from his neck, for simply tucking a stray hair behind your ear. Attempting to pull Ari back from Ransom after he ended up with a bloodied nose for placing a hand on your hip. Stopping Ari from jumping up off the couch from where he has curled himself around you, Lloyd leaned down to kiss your cheek and earned a boot in the rib from the temperamental wolf. Andy was left nursing three broken fingers for daring to squeeze a hand around your waist while you welcomed him home. Jake was left with claw marks down his arm for attempting to cover you with a blanket during movie night.

Each incident was followed up by Ari dragging you close to him and snarling out a threatening, ''mine.'' The only word he had spoken in the past twenty-four hours.

''Yours, Ari,'' You agree, hands stroking the sides of his face, curling your fingers in his hair. ''All yours.'' Not entirely true, but it has to be during this time for the safety of your housemates. ''Let's go, come on,'' you say, and pull him up from the couch, mouthing apologies to everyone before guiding Ari away towards the bedroom.

'What am I going to do with you?'' You sighed as you closed your bedroom door behind you, eyeing the grumpy werewolf as he climbed onto your bed and reached out to you with a grumble. You tilt your head back, your shoulders dropping, letting out a sigh at the lack of response before strolling up to the bed.

''You can't keep fighting everyone, I know the moon is fucking with you, but Jesus Christ, Ari,'' You scolded as you joined him, letting him pull you close to his chest, legs tangling with yours as you listened to his strong heartbeat pound through his chest. ''You're gonna have to stay out of their way, this isn't fair on them,'' You try again, looking up at him and snorting out a little laugh at his knitted eyebrows and sour look. ''It isn't fair on me,'' You stress and reach a hand up to scratch your fingers through his beard.

You spend the next two days hauled up in your bedroom, Ari only letting you leave to make food and grab snacks and drinks. The rest of the time, you were dressed in his t-shirts, wrapped in his hoodies, sat snugly in his boxers, reading a book out loud while Ari massaged your thighs and waist. He kept his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, nose rubbing against the skin behind your ear, placing small kisses and licks.

Having to deal with his protests of letting you shower unless you're using his shampoo and body wash, you need to be there to get his scent right back on you once you've washed it away. While you sat at your desk, he'd sit between your legs, arms snug around your waist with his head in your lap, soft rumbles demanding a kiss, or for you to comb your fingers through his hair and scratch the space behind his ear.

The night before the full moon, Ari was a wreck. Irritated growls, a sheen of sweat on his brows. Suddenly, he couldn't stand the smallest touch, pulling away from you each time you tried to; your fingertips were burning right through his skin.

Pained whines as he clutched his stomach and gripped his thighs, making your heartache and your stomach twist in knots. He refused to eat, unable to even keep water down. He was too hot and cold all at once, causing him to bundle up and strip off within the next second. You pleaded for him to tell you what you could do to make him feel better, but never got a response.

While unable to touch him, he still needed you nearby; shaking his head with a defiant growl every time you suggested talking to the others for a solution. You had never seen any of the wolves go through a new moon like this.

''Ari, there's got to be something I can do. This can't just be the moon. Please let me go and see what they can do.'' You pleaded, hands hovering over his curled-up form, not daring to touch if you caused more pain. ''Ari, please.'' You sigh in defeat as he let out another pained whine, followed by a throaty growl and a shake of his head. ''Just get on the bed, you can't be comfy here,'' You tried once more.

You wiped away a stray tear from your cheek as you got no response from him. You let your legs give out, sitting back on your legs, desperately wanting to reach out and pull him to you, while also damning yourself for not being strong enough to just lift him. You were lost, since meeting Ari, you'd never seen him in such pain before. The occasional grump, or low mood during the moon, sure, but never pain.

That's when it hit you.

''Oh my God,'' You said slowly. You got to your feet and looked down at him. ''You're in a rut, aren't you?''

''Not yet,'' Ari gritted out, baring his teeth, voice strained and coarse.

''Okay, okay,'' You nodded, trying to hide your glee at hearing his voice. ''But, you will be? Right? I can help. I can help you,'

''No,'' Ari growled out roughly, shaking his head as he strained and propped himself against the side of the bed, making you pause and suck in a breath as his face twisted up and a whine escaped his lips. ''I'll hurt you.''

''You won't,'' You tried to sway, kneeling in front of him. ''I'll be okay. Let me help you through it.'

Ari gave another shake of his head, eyebrows pulling together as his head lulled back, whining.

''Where does it hurt?'' You asked, only to be met with a telling glare from the werewolf, making you blush and laugh nervously. ''Oh, I thought- I thought it was your stomach.'

''It radiates,'' Ari explained bluntly, rolling his eyes.

''What about a hot bath, or a shower?'' You suggested. ''Get the sweat off you, might make you feel a little better. Then we can try and get some food in you.'

''It'll only come back,'' Ari brushed off, letting out a huff. ''Please stop making me talk, pup,'' he begged, letting his head drop to his knees as he wrapped his arms tightly around his legs. For such a huge man, you'd never seen him so small.

''Come on, let's get you in the shower,'' You pressed again as you rose to your feet and offered out your hand.

Finally, he placed his hand in yours and allowed you to help him to his feet. Your eyes immediately zero in on the prominent outline of his cock, sucking in a sharp breath, and eyes widening at the sheer size. Ari groaned and tried to cover his crotch, with his hand murmuring out a whined, ''don't look,'' and used his other hand, hooking a finger under your chin to move your head up, making you meet his eyes before he turned away and began to waddle towards the bathroom.

''Too late, I saw it,'' You snorted, rubbing a hand over his back as you kept close. ''Pretty sure that thing classifies as a lethal weapon at this point,'' You joked and laughed as he groaned and shook his head.

The night before the full moon, you faced challenges you didn't know existed when it came to Ari. Usually the perfect gentleman, he had turned into a feral beast. While you managed to usher him into the shower and curl up with the freshly washed werewolf, he still refused to let you help him with his rut.

However, once cuddled in bed, wrapped in the soft, pink cotton sheets, he couldn't stop himself as he rubbed his clothed, rock-solid cock against the back of your thigh while he held you tightly against him. He had his face buried against your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin as he moaned and growled, desperate for release.

You continued to beg him to let you help him, only to be denied by a shake of his head as he continued to rut his hips against you.

''Gonna have to go,'' Ari said breathlessly, but did not attempt to move or still his movements.

''You don't have to,'' you said, attempting to turn back to face him, only to be met with a tight squeeze on your hip telling you to remain still. ''Just let me see, let me help.''

''You are helping,'' Ari grumbled, panting and breathless.

''Then don't go,'' you pleaded. ''Stay with me, and keep doing what you're doing.'' You tried to rock back against his thrusts, but he kept you firmly in place. ''Do what you need to feel better.''

''It's not enough,'' Ari contradicted suddenly, whining and digging his teeth back into your shoulder, making you laugh irritably.

''So, let me help.'' You reached a hand back and placed it over his grip, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. ''Just my hands, nothing else,'' you offered. ''Lemme help, Alpha.''

That seemed to snap whatever resolve Ari had inside him. You were soon shifted onto your back, the large wolf of a man climbing on top of you with lust-filled eyes and hooking a hand under your chin, the pads of his fingers bruising into your cheeks as he crashed his lips against yours. Gone was the pain of fighting off the rut.

The wolf seemingly allowed himself to be completely drowned in the throes of it. The kiss was filthy, teeth and tongue, almost like he was trying to drink down every gasp, whimper, and moan that tried to escape your lips.

He was a man starved, feral, and unrelenting.

You parted your legs and lifted them to encase him and keep him there, fearing clarity would set in and he'd suddenly be gone. Your fingers tangled and pulled his long locks, while his gripped your waist and kept snugly around your throat.

''Ari, please,'' You moaned breathlessly against his assault on your lips and rolled your hips up against him. You whined as you felt his cock firmly rub against your throbbing cunt.

''Alpha,'' Ari corrected, nipping your lower lip and with the grip around your chin and neck. He tilted your head to the side, began to pepper kisses, and licked down the column of your neck. ''Keep rubbing on me, pretty pup. Show your Alpha how much you want his knot.'

The whiplash made your head spin and your heart pound in your chest. Suddenly, the solemn and quiet wolf was talking filth in your ear while you rocked against each other and showed no signs of quietening down or slowing down anytime soon.

Lost for words, you surrender to him, relaxing in his tight grip and moaning loudly into the open space of the bedroom, knowing all the other inhabitants would surely hear you and know exactly what Ari was doing to you.

''Wolf got your tongue, sweet baby? Where's my begging gone? Not gonna be able to hold back, gonna breed this tiny little cunt. 'Gonna fill you up and get you fat with my pups. You want that, little omega? I'm gonna split you apart on my knot, knock all those pretty thoughts out of your head. You sure you want this, honey? You sure you can take it? Can you take me, honey? All of me?'' Ari ranted into your ear, licking the shell of your ear and nipping at your lobe. ''Gonna fucking make you take it, sugar.'

''Please, please,'' You chanted. ''Please, Alpha. I want it, I need you, please.'

Ari detached his hand from your neck and lifted onto his knees just enough to give him the space to freely flip you over. You panted into the pillow as he got to work, literally tearing the clothes from your body, silk pyjamas in tatters on the floor, leaving you in your bra and panties.

Ari quickly rid himself of his clothes before hiking your hips up, making your back arch and face press further into the pillow. You arched your back further as you felt Ari's fingertips rub over your panties, tracing the line of your folds, gasping as his ring finger ghosted over your button. You could feel the wetness pooling over your core, feel yourself throbbing under his touch.

You felt his hands run down your sides, fingers meeting as he slipped down the arch of your back. You moaned in anticipation, feeling his breath on your thighs, before crying out as he began to mouth over your mound, wetting the fabric of your panties even more.

You buried your face in the pillow, wanton moans muffled by the cotton stuffing as Ari hummed a needy growl over your core, sending vibrations that made your toes curl and your hands fist the sheets below you. His fingers massaged your thighs as he continued to tease you over your panties.

''Alpha, please,'' you pleaded, lifting your head to gasp in the air and look back, your view obscured by your hips and his large shoulders. All you could make out was the slight rocking of his hips, rubbing himself against the soft cotton sheets. ''Please,'' you whined.

''Tell me what you want, pup. Tell your Alpha you want him to taste this sweet little cunt,'' Ari replied cockily, heavy-lidded eyes peering from around the back of your thigh while he nipped into the flesh and his hands moved to paw at your ass.

You sucked in a shaky breath. ''Please, Alpha, please taste my cunt. It's all yours. It's yours. Please.''

Ari wasted no time, hooking his fingers under the band of your underwear and snapping the fabric, discarding it off the side of the bed.

Ari crossed his arms over the dip of your back, face pushing between your legs, forcing your back to arch as much as possible. His lips attached over your clit, his tongue rolling with every suction; the rough scratching of his beard mixed with the tight suction of his mouth, the softness and heat of his tongue quickly brought you to the edge.

You tugged on the sheets below you so hard, your pointed nails ripped through the sheet, and your loud cries of pleasure dominated the room, mixing with Ari’s lustful growls. You rocked your hips against his mouth, overwhelmed and overstimulated. A hot flash overtook your body, your thighs tensed, and a warmth spread over your stomach.

Soon shakes overtook your body, your core fluttering as you came on his tongue; chanting his name with desperate moans. Ari held you still as you tried to wriggle away, trying to get a break from the assault of your sensitive button. He wasn’t finished with you yet.

You reached back to try and push his head away, crying out and shaking your head, unable to form any words due to your mind swimming with Ari; everything was Ari. Ari let out a disgruntled grumble, and while his tongue flicked against your clit, he grabbed both of your arms and pinned them behind your back, using the grip on them as purchase to continue keeping you held in place.

Your thighs were shaking at this point, your stomach doing flips, and your body was covered in a sheen of sweat. Ari hummed blissfully, seemingly feeling full as he continued to taste you on his tongue.

The Alpha pulled orgasm after orgasm from your abused cunt, before finally giving you relief for a short moment. That’s when you felt his fingertip prod at your entrance, and they felt the bed dip as your arms were released and Ari rose to his knees.

“Such a pretty pussy,” Ari cooed. If your face wasn’t already flushed red, it certainly was now. “Can’t wait to feel it around my knot,” Ari continued to you as he slipped a finger inside you. The large digit curling in search of your sweet spot. “Feel it cuming around me, so fucking tight, ‘mega, fuck.”

“More, Alpha,” you moaned, thrusting your hips back slightly. “Need your knot so bad.”

“Gotta open you up, pup. Gotta make it fit,” Ari replied, slipping a second finger alongside the first. The sting from the stretch makes you suck in a hissing breath. “Such a tight, little cunt.”

You didn’t know that pain could feel so good. The ache in your back paired with the ones in your thighs mixed with the tingles left from Ari’s beard, and his fingers spreading you open bloomed a need you didn’t know existed.

Ari hooked his fingers in a come hither motion, finally bumping against that special spot inside you, making you cry out and become a boneless mess. Your shoulders sunk into the mattress, face squished against the pillows as you rocked your hips in time with his fingers curling.

Ari growled and reached over your arched body to take a fist full of your hair, forcing your head up from the pillow.

“Stop hiding, little one,” Ari commanded, his fingers pulling sounds you didn’t know you could make from you. “I wanna hear all those pretty moans. Wanna hear how good I’m taking you apart. I want all of it.”

Wanton moans dripped from your parted lips as Ari continued to open you up. Your hole now stretched around three of his large fingers. He was unrelenting in his mission to get you prepped enough for his knot. Ari used the grip on your hair to spear you back on his fingers, your whole body rocking back onto his fingers.

“Alpha, it’s enough, it’s enough,” you moaned, craning your head back to look back at him, hair stuck to his forehead, bicep flexing as he twisted his fingers inside you. “Please, I need it now.”

''Not enough, pup,'' Ari argued. ''Trust me, it's taking every ounce of control inside of me not to tear into this pretty little cunt--'' Ari emphasised his words by scissoring his fingers inside you, making you gasp and hiss from the sting of the stretch. He curled his body over yours and chuckled in your ear before he nipped the shell. ''Gotta have you ready, pup.''

After what seemed like an eternity of fingers curling and twisting, obscene sounds of your slick around Ari's fingers; pornographic moans and dark chuckles, teasing remarks and filthy comments from Ari, he finally pulled his fingers from inside you and pulled a shocked gasp from you as he flipped you onto your back and lifted your legs to your chest. He locked one hand behind your knees, keeping your thighs flush against your chest, while he grasped his length in his other hand and nudged the tip through your folds.

You angled your head, looking around to see him slowly fuck himself through your slit. The head of his cock bumps against your clit, making little moans fall from your lips. Ari was seemingly mesmerised, eyes locked on his cock slipping through your folds, and your delicate fingers rubbing the tip of his cock until he dipped too low and the head caught against your hole, making you both gasp and his hand tighten its hold on your legs.

Ari let his cockhead rest against your hole as he guided your hand away, and readied himself on his knees, letting out a deep breath before giving you a checking glance. From here, you saw the man's sheer size, the wolf looming over to take his prey in any way he saw fit. You gave him a nod, mouth agape, and let your head rest on the pillow, fingers tangling in the sheets, preparing for the breach.

''Holy fuckin' shit, sugar,'' Ari moaned out as the tip of his cock slipped past your hole, your hands ditching the sheets and reaching around to grip Ari's wrists. All you could do was chant his name, whine, and moan as he continued to slowly thrust into you. ''You can take it, omega. You can do it for me, can't you, pup? I know you can, look how well you're taking me, you can do it, pup.''

The stretch, the ache from your core, your legs, your back; the hands that clutched your thighs, the growls and moans from Ari, it was all too much.

Ari parted your legs, slipping through the space to cover your body with his own, elbows planted beside your shoulders as he caressed the sides of your face, wiped sweat-stuck hair from your face, and smoothed his hands over your hair. Your hand stroked his biceps, kneading the flesh as he slowly buried his cock deeper inside you, dropping his head beside yours and moaning long and slow into your ear as he finally bottomed out. Your fingers tangled in his hair, whining his name as you lifted your legs and clenched them tightly around his hips.

''Feel like heaven, pup,'' Ari moaned out, slightly rocking his hips into you, nudging his cock against the sweet spot hidden deep inside you.

''Not yet, not yet,'' You chant, strung out and whining, stuffed to the brim.

''Can't wait much longer,'' Ari growled, fighting against his feral urges. ''Need you, Omega.''

''You have me, Alpha.''

Ari lifted back onto his knees, fingers curling under your knees and holding them firmly as he slowly pulled out until only the tip of his cock remained inside you; pulling delicate moans and needy whines from both of you.

From there, it was only a few short thrusts until Ari became unhinged.

The bed creaked and groaned from the brutal pace of his hips. Pain and pleasure mixed perfectly; intoxicating and addictive, under his sharp teeth and piercing claws, blooming red under his trail. Both of you were reduced to puddles, unable to form any words, completely lost in each other; consumed by need and lust.

''Not gonna last long,'' Ari began to babble, moans and growls mixing with his words as he continued to spear you onto his cock. All you could do was cry out and grip him as he used you for his pleasure. ''Gonna breed you, gonna fill you up, keep you on my knot. Get you full with my pups, my perfect little bitch. My beautiful Omega. My sweet little pup.'' His fingers bruised into your hips, claws nipping the skin. ''So fuckin' good, 'Mega. So good for me, taking it all. You ready for my knot, pup? You gonna take it?''

''Yes, yes, yes,'' You managed to chant, eyes locked on Ari's and arching your back as the wolf pounded into you.

Ari leaned back down, hand cradling under your head, the other cradling your cheek and keeping you close in the crook of his neck. Your heavy breaths coated his skin, while your fingernails left trails of blood down his back, making him rut harder, obscene noises filling the room. You locked your legs again around his waist, while Ari moaned nonsensical filth into your ear. Growls and grunts overtook him as he became desperate to fill you to the brim. His teeth pinched into your neck, locking you down against the mattress as he claimed you.

You could feel his swelling knot catch against your hole, making your nails bite into the flesh of his shoulder. He lifted up onto his hands, heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips; snarls and teeth, and started down, watching himself fuck into you as he crept closer and close to his climax. His hips began to stutter and started to push the knot fully inside you, locking you together.

Your hands find his face and draw his gaze to yours.

''Look at me, Alpha. Look at me. Wanna see you while you fill me.''

#chris evans #cevans #ari levinson #ari levinson fic #ari levinson x female reader #ari levinson smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson fanfiction #ari levinson imagine #ari levinson x you #steve rogers x reader #curtis everett x reader #lila writes #kills & kisses verse #werewolf!ari levinson #werewolf au #vampire au #werewolf!ari x reader

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leopardsealz · 2 months

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nonbinary werewolf icon

please reblog my art!

#werewolf #werewolf oc #werewolves #fantasy #fantasy oc #furry #anthro #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #sam draws #oc: connor #think i settled on connor for their name #messing around with lycans in my fantasy verse so heres a concept. essentially a wolf furry <3 #normally biped but can easily run on all fours too #anyways i love connor. ideal datefriend material

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sp0o0kylights · 1 year

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Steve x Eddie Werewolf AU

Part One

Part Two

Steve hadn't intended to be the Alpha werewolf of a capitol P Pack.

Of course, he hadn't planned on discovering an entire hell dimension hiding under Hawkins either so it was safe to say most of his predetermined life plans had gone totally sideways.

Now, as he stood amongst his friends, his family, who were once again gearing up to fight something they shouldn't have too, he couldn't keep his eyes off the odd wolf out.

Except Eddie "the freak" Munson wasn't out of place--and that was the problem.

Steve watched as he tussled with Dustin, the serious edge that had been clinging to the younger boy's shoulders disappearing as Eddie tackled him to the ground, cackling.

It made them look their ages for once.

"Are you thinking about bringing him into the Pack?" Robin asked as she poured more gasoline into a bottle, ever observant.

Steve didn't bother playing dumb. No point, with her. "I was going to offer, yeah. Before we go back into the Upside Down."

Robin hummed softly, setting the bottle aside for a moment.

"Would give him way better protection against Vecna." Steve said, as if that was reason enough to claim Eddie, and not like he hadn't basically adopted the guy since the older wolf stuck a bottle against his throat.

Which in turn had made Steve's own wolf wake up and take notice.

He'd thought he was going to have to fight off the urge to shift, form his hands into claws and tear into Munson. Instead what he’d gotten was a confusing tangle of approval, admiration and his ever present urge to protect coming out in full force.

It wasn't his fault he'd immediately noticed the sheer fear rolling off Eddie, and how he'd overcome it to fight anyway.

How he trembled as he knelt down, his wolf staring out of his eyes, but never once lost control.

Listened to Dustin, and respected the kid enough to calm down for him, even though the younger boy was really the only person Eddie knew was truly friendly, let alone trustworthy staring him down in that shed.

Then came all the sass, how he lit up when Steve brought him his favorite foods. The dramatic way he'd crooned and hugged Steve, like the act of giving a box of honeycombs was akin to a proposal.

(Of course, for Steve, it was.

One that he and his wolf made together.

An offering of family. Of protection, safety and love.

The decision wasn't just his to make, though and he knew it.

It never had been.

Steve might have been raised by snide, old school Werewolves, born and bred to do things the traditional way, but all tradition had ever done was hurt him in ways he had sworn to never pass on to his own packmates.)

"It would also give him a home with people who know and understand what going through all this does to you." Robin added softly, leaning into Steve's side and putting her head on his shoulder. "I definitely needed that. After Starcourt."

Steve put the bottle he was working on down next to Robin's, then leaned his head atop hers.

"We all did." He agreed.

"Plus he fits in." Steve didn't have to see her face to feel her smirk as Eddie went to pull on Dustin’s underwear, cackling madly as Dustin shrieked and called him a cheater.

"But you already knew that."

Steve smiled. "The kids love him, yeah."

He got an elbow to the gut for that one.

"Not what I meant dingus, and you know it." She pulled her head back, only so she could look onto Steve's face. "That boys been flirting with you since you brought him beer."

Steve sputtered.

"I've had to bear witness to the Harrington charm before, don't think I didn't see it in action the other day." Robin poked him in the cheek with a finger. "Just because you're a bit more reserved when it comes to flirting with guys doesn't mean I didn't catch it.”

Nancy walked up the hill, coming to sit down next to them as Steve sputtered.

For once she didn't say a thing about how close Robin and Steve were sitting, instead opting to sit on Steve's open side.

"Are we discussing claiming Eddie as part of the Pack?" She asked, causing Robin to give her a delighted grin.

"We are indeed, my extremely smart friend."

"No arguments from you then if I offer?" Steve asked.

He wasn't going to bother asking the kids, he knew what their answer would be.

The decisions were made among the elder pack members anyway, and would be until the kids reached an age were they could make decisions that didn’t constantly end in half of them getting killed, but with Jonathan out of the picture in California it came down just to Nancy and Robin.

Nancy put her head in a hand, watching as Lucas and Erica became involved in the tussle with Eddie and Dustin.

"No." She said, after a moment.

'He's dominant, Nance." Steve warned, because the last thing he needed was to bring Eddie in only for a fight to break out over who would act as the Packs Second in Command.

Nancy smiled, looking gentle as she tucked her legs up underneath her. "If he wants my position he can have it. The kids listen to him better anyway."

“You're sure?” Steve asked. He knew she was, could feel through their bonds that she was, but he had to ask it. Needed to hear the confirmation.

Nancy rolled her eyes at him. “Yes Steve. Now are you going to go get him, or are we going to wait for Vecna to spring something on us? Because for once it would be nice to add a pack member without some kind of threat forcing it.”

Steve rolled his eyes back at her, but quietly agreed.

“Make sure Robin doesn’t blow herself up making molotovs, would you?.” He asked as he stood, dusting grass and dirt off his pants.

Robin flipped him off.

xXx

"Guys, I need to borrow Eddie for a second." Steve called as he approached, mostly to prevent anyone from turning on him at the last second and trying to physically drag him into their game.

"Fine Steve, but I want him back as soon as you're done!" Dustin shouted, releasing his hold on Eddie’s jacket.

The older wolf grinned. "Oh I'm sure Harrington will be gentle."

Steve rolled his eyes, but turned around when Eddie reached him, taking a meandering path back up to the winnebago.

"You can call me Steve, you know." He said as they walked.

Eddie just jostled him with a grin, playfully bouncing on his feet. "Aww, but that's just no fun, Handsome!"

Steve felt a blush burn at the tips of his ears, but kept kept it off his face. "Handsome works fine too."

"So what're we talking about? Is this more Vecna plans? Stuff kiddies ears cannot hear?"

Steve wobbled his hand back and forth. "Yes and no. It'll help with Vecna, but it's…more than that."

Eddie raised an eyebrow at him as the path Steve took them behind the van, well away from the kids and just out of sight of Robin and Nancy.

"Well spit it out man, you're blue balling me here."

"You're not part of a Pack, right?" Steve blurted out. It hadn’t been until this moment that he realized he'd never actually offered this to anyone, having always claimed someone either in an emergency or via the kids being pushy assholes.

Offering a place in a Pack was a big deal, but given the nature of his, Steve felt he earned the ability to say his was beyond special. The people he invited into it were as well, and they deserved to be asked properly.

Eddie deserved to be asked, properly.

The same Eddie who blinked at his question, then laughed.

It wasn’t a nice laugh.

“What do you think? No one wanted me before I was the town murderer, and even if I survive this shit?” He leaned in, like he was sharing a secret. “Absolutely no ones going to want me now.”

Steve frowned at him, startled.

Caught how Eddie’s scent changed right before he got a handle on it, reeling his emotions in before the sadness soaking his words became obvious.

”That’s not--no--right, okay.” Steve huffed, frustrated at himself. “Any Pack would be lucky to have you, Eddie. They’d be stupid to buy the murderer crap.”

Eddie scoffed. “I think you of all people should know anyone would be stupid to take me on.”

“Guess it’s a good thing I’m a dumbass then.” He responded, before mentally kicking himself.

He was fumbling. He knew he was fumbling, and a part of him wanted to groan aloud.

This was not how this was supposed to go. He was getting Dustin to write him a speech, stat.

On second thought, maybe he’d have Nancy write it.

"What?” Eddie asked, but it was flat, the playfulness gone. Now there was apprehension in those big eyes of his, and fumbling or not, proper or not, Steve wasn’t having it.

Not for the guy his kids adored. Not for the one who had leapt into a lake after him to fend off bats, and then complimented him after.

"I'm saying I want-- I'd love to have you in mine."

A pause.

"My uh, my Pack." Steve clarified in the growing silence, like it wasn’t obvious.

Eddie stared at him.

Steve was blowing this. He was absolutely and totally blowing this, and he was going to workshop a whole damn spiel the next time this happened. (Not that he ever wanted to claim anyone else. Damn Pack was already too big.)

"I'm offering to claim you." He added dumbly, when Eddie didn't say anything.

"I'm dominant, Steve." The older wolf deadpanned. "Not enough to gun for your position--and frankly man after seeing your warrior form rip those damn bats in half I don't think anyone in Hawkins is dominant enough to take you--but."

Eddie worked his jaw, looked away. "I'd definitely be a problem for your current rankings."

As if Steve hadn’t already figured that out.

"Nancy has agreed to step down as Second." Steve told him, glad he'd had the forethought to have an answer to a problem for once.

Eddie gave him a disbelieving look. "Nancy, "more guns than sense--and she has a lot of sense" Wheeler agreed to bow out of being the Pack's second? For me?"

"For you." Steve agreed, knowing the implication that Nancy found him worthy to succeed her, would make Eddie blush. "If it helps though I think you're doing her a favor. I worry a lot about the kids and I think she's tired of riding herd on them. She's happy stepping down.”

"All of the power, none of the administrative overhead." Eddie agreed vaguely, fiddling with his rings. His hair swung down to cover part of his face as he stared hard at his hands.

"Which means of course, means you get to help cart around the kids." Steve tried to grin at him, hoping they were getting back onto firmer ground.

"I see how it is, you're bringing me in for my van." Eddie said, as if he hadn't ditched his vehicle halfway in the woods.

His voice was off though.

It wasn’t until Eddie made the mistake of glancing up that Steve saw how wet his eyes were. The tears he was holding back through force of will alone.

"I'm wanted for murder, Steve." Eddie whispered, voice pained. "I can't drag the kids down with me. I can't drag any of you down with me. I'm not worth that."

And oh, fuck that.

One hundred percent fuck that.

"You are absolutely worth it." Steve said fiercely, the hesitant, careful energy gone. Replaced entirely by the protective streak he was known for, the assuredness that had made him a good team captain and a better Alpha werewolf.

"And I hate to break it to you, but you're not even our first fugitive. So unless you can give me a solid excuse, Munson, then I expect you to accept."

That got him.

“You’re serious.” Eddie said, and it wasn’t a question. He stared full on into Steve’s eyes now, a challenge for a werewolf. This though, wasn’t one, and Steve’s wolf didn’t react negatively.

Knew instinctively, that he was being searched for any hint of a lie.

“When it comes to this? To you?” Steve found himself gravitating closer, honesty bleeding through every pore. “I will always be serious.”

A sniff, followed by a quiet huff of laughter as Eddie rubbed his eyes on his sleeve. "Shit, you sure know how to make a guy feel special."

"You are special.” Steve fired back. “That’s why I want you.”

It should have been we, as in we The Pack, want you, but Steve would examine where the “I” came from later.

“If--if you’re sure you won’t regret it…” Eddie trailed off, shyly holding out his hand as his face blushed scarlet.

Steve took it, offering a customary kiss to the hand with bare knuckles before tugging him closer. “I will never regret meeting you, Edward Munson.” Steve told him, eyes rolling gold as his wolf took a mental step forward.

Not to overtake him, but to combine with him, to put the two halves of his souls back together in a way that only the strongest could.

“You would honor us should you accept our offer to be Pack.” That was him and the wolf talking together, the formal way his wolf spoke taking over Steve’s more lax language.

“God you’re unreal.” Eddie choked out, a wobbly smile taking over his face. “Ask me again. Formally and shit.”

Steve grinned.

Formal he could do.

'Thank you asshole parents, for assuming I'd be an Alpha and making me take the etiquette classes.'

Left hand went on Eddie's shoulder, right hand brushed his hair back before going a supportive hold at his waist.

Eddie sucked in a breath, scent mixing both with awe and fear.

Steve's wolf didn't like the former, set about immediately to soothe.

'Mine.' It whispered in their head. Unusual, if only because it usually laid claim with a solid "Ours" but Steve wasn't going to question it.

Vecna had done a number on him, as a Pack leader. He'd earned his wolf being a bit odd for the day.

He opened the door in his h

"Edward Munson," Steve said, knowing his eyes were pulsating gently with wolf gold as he leaned forward to touch foreheads with Eddie.

"We ask you to aid this Pack as one of its members. Defend those bound to you, as they in turn will defend you, so long as you run with us?”

Eddie breathed in shallowly, once.

Twice.

"Yes." He whispered, as if speaking louder would make Steve take the offer back.

Steve pulled on the Pack's Magic, felt it build within him, an invisible pressure that flickered to life as yellow electricity dancing out of his eyes, down his teeth.

He moved to the point where Eddie's neck met his shoulder, fangs extending, long in his mouth.

“Through bite and blood, I claim you as Pack.”

Steve gently kissed the spot once, before sinking his fangs deep. Channeling the magic he’d built deep into Eddie’s skin, directing it instinctively down and around Eddie’s chest. Arks of energy engulfed them both, a vibrant red magic rising to meet Steve’s yellow.

Eddie arched into the contact, but his neck remained in Steve;s mouth, body language submissive.

Magic pulsed like a live wire, growing visible around them in Steve's signature yellow, cackling across his skin to Eddie's and back. The two colors danced together for a moment, weaving and combining, until a bond was forged to the Pack.

The bond finished and Eddie went limp, knees giving out underneath him.

Having been prepared for just that, Steve held him close, before lowing them both to the ground.

Slowly he removed his fangs, the pack magic sealing the wound it left behind, with one long, careful lick.

“I’ve got you." He murmured as Eddie shook violently for a moment, gasping like a drowning man seeking air as the bond settled. “I’ve got you.”

For now, and for as long as Eddie would have him and his Pack.

#annnd we're officially goin out of order LOL #its cool its just like the Duffer Bros Two Days Later time skip!#steve harrington #werewolf steve harrington #Hungry verse #eddie munson #werewolf eddie munson #werewolf AU #not a/b/o #more paranormal romance #steddie #steve x eddie #claiming #claiming through a bite #hurt/comfort #sorta #0o0 fanfics

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cryptid-paint · 10 months

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Me hitting Miguel with the werewolf beam is a canon event, anyway werewolf dad Miguel au

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cinnabons-treasure-trove · 4 months

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Werewolf Arthur: [sweating] Tell me what you need Merlin [grinding between his mate's thighs]

Werecat Merlin: [moaning] I need you to claim me, mark me, give me all of your seed. [Shudders as Arthur spreads his legs wider]

Werewolf Arthur: [groaning] And you will receive it, all of it yours my lovely mate, I will keep you filled. [Bites Merlin's scent gland]

Werecat Merlin: [eyes rolled back, mewling at the sensations felt] Oh, oh, uh, yeeesss—mine.

Werewolf Arthur: [growling possessively]

Sweat dampening the fur on his body, muscles tensed in pleasure as he rubbed himself roughly against his writhing mate; he dug his fangs deeper into Merlin's neck, fingers gripping his little werecat's hips to keep the lithe figure still.

Merlin was ready for Arthur's knot judging by smell and the slick the werewolf could feel whenever he moved smoothly between Merlin's warm thighs and trembling legs.

•❀•───────•°•💮•°•───────•❀•

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wysteria-clad · 2 years

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Once upon a time

paring: Jack Russell x fem! wife! reader

genre: fluff

warnings: brush your teeth after reading this cause it's too sweet

a/n: sweet, domestic fluff with our favourite wolf boy <3

--------

"Once upon on a time-"

"Long, long, long ago" the little boy piped up with excitement.

"Now I think about it, it's not that long ago, "

"Papa!"

"Vale, si. Long, long, long ago" Jack added couple of 'o' at the last 'long' with a smile after watching his son smile.

"There was a big bad wolf living in the dark forest"

"Why was it called 'The Dark forest'?"

"Big, scary creatures roamed in that forest"

"Like uncle Ted?"

"Like uncle Ted."

"But he is not scary, he is silly" the child said with a goofy grin.

"To us, he is not scary." Jack smiled.

"Or the forest was really dark at night, that's why it was called 'The Dark forest'

"Who is the one telling the story, changuito?"

"Me!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! The big bad wolf man was not really bad, and he got into trouble one day" the little boy chirped up.

"Wolf man?" Jack got up from the bed for a moment to close to the windows.

"Yup" the child said, popping up the 'p'. "Some bad people got the wolf man, they wanted to hurt him. And then a very powerful-"

"And then a very powerful witch-"

The boy raised his hands, exclaiming, "A very powerful, cool, awesome-

"Si, a very powerful, cool, awesome," Jack couldn't stop the smile spreading on his face like warmth, "and the kindest witch saved him from the trouble. Hermosa."

"With her awesome witch powers?"

"Si, with her awesome witch powers" he ruffled the kid's hair.

"What happened after that?"

"The wolf man and the witch became friends."

"And then?"

"The witch fell in love with the wolf man first."

"Oh really?" you walked into your son's bedroom.

"Mama!"

"That's what I remember, amor" Jack added with a sheepish grin.

"Mmm hmm" you strode towards him and pecked his cheek.

"Now I remember it, I think the wolf man fell in love with the witch first"

"The cool witch."

"The wolf man fell in love with the cool witch."

"And then?"

"And then they got married one day and they had-"

"Me!"

You can see your son's new front tooth gap as he grinned.

"Yes, you, sweetheart"

"Mama, will I be cool like you when I grow up?"

"Yes, you will be cool like your mama"

"Hey, your papa is cool too!" Jack pretended to be offended.

"Less cool than mama" your son giggled.

"You take that back, young man. Oh, you've angered the wolf man!" Jack tickled your son with his 'scary claws'.

Hearing your child's laughter, your husband, that moment was just perfect. A smile decorated your face.

"Papa is cool like mama!"

Your husband only stopped after your son confessed it.

You shook your head playfully. "Alright, time to sleep now."

"Good night, mama. Good night, papa"

"Good night, my little wolf" with a smile never leaving your face, you bent down to kiss his forehead.

"Mi tesoro" Jack pulled the blanket up to cover your son and turning off the table lamp.

After exiting you child's room, you turned towards your husband with a mischievous grin, "Why don't you act out a bedtime story for me, papi?"

"Oh, you are a wicked witch" Jack hooked his arms around your waist, pulling you closer.

"You love it" you chuckled, closing the remaining gap between you with a passionate kiss. "I love you, Jack."

He leaned back a bit to look into your eyes, he cupped your cheek with one hand, his other hand resting on your waist, "Te amo, mi vida."

------

Translation (not 100% literal & accurate):

vale, si - alright, yes

changuito - little monkey

hermosa - referring a gorgeous woman

amor - love

mi tesoro - my treasure

te amo - I love you

mi vida - my life

#wystie-verse #jack russell x reader #jack russell imagine #jack russell #werewolf by night #werewolf by night imagine #wwbn #wwbn imagine

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thesiltverses · 11 months

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As is traditional ahead of a new season, please enjoy the Silt Verses Season 3 Listening soundtrack on Spotify.

Expertly curated, this album is composed of thematically and tonally inspiring songs, as well as general wuss rock, that I enjoyed listening to while writing the upcoming episodes.

#there was also a disconcertingly long period where I just kept hitting repeat on Ripely Pine #an album which truly boasts some excellent contributions to the field of werewolf music #the silt verses

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lsdoiphin · 1 year

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Many rural communities would rather nip lycomorphy in the bud when the victim has been freshly bitten--before the infected becomes a real problem.

#oc: sam #verse: perigean tide #my oc #original character art #oc art #original character #werewolf oc #werewolf #nightvision

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corazondebeskar-reads · 10 days

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of rage and ruin - chapter two

of rage and ruin series

chapter two

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

werewolf!alpha!Joel Miller x f!omega!reader

word count: 3.3k

summary: you come face to face with the beast.

chapter warnings: dark, dead dove do not eat, a/b/o, alpha/omega dynamics, omegaverse, captivity, canon-typical violence, genre-typical violence, horror themes, graphic violence, allusions to/threats of torture, abuse by captors (not by either joel or reader), depiction of injury, body horror, typical raider/hunter behavior, mention of cordyceps, angst, viewer discretion is advised,

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

They were careful never to touch you. The exam you’d been given when they first brought you here was done with thick rubber gloves, and no one has touched you since.

But there are plenty of ways to teach you compliance without touching you.

Before they moved you, you didn’t see a soul for two days. No one delivered or removed the cloth strips, food, or water. No one woke you up with a loud buzzer or dragged you outside to hose you down.

No one hurt you.

The first few hours, you sit and do nothing as usual. You don’t really notice.

After that, though, you start to wait. This deviation, this anomaly, was far more terrifying than the wretched routine. And with no meals, you’re bereft of a way to count the passing of time. There’s no sunlight down here, after all.

To your deep relief, the lights still go off at night. Until you’re lying awake in the dark and realize they’re probably on a timer. So maybe all your captors are dead. Made a stupid mistake and got their asses handed to them by FEDRA.

Which would be nice, but also, you’d still fucking die. Because you’re trapped in this godforsaken grimy ass basement, and somewhere on the other side of it is the only other resident you know of. Him.

So either you starve to death, or he eats you. Or both.

You spend the next day hoping to see Cheryl’s smug bitch face.

When someone finally comes for you, it’s not Cheryl. It’s not Jim, either, but that’s not a surprise. He doesn’t like you, doesn’t like whatever Cheryl’s doing with you.

Not because he has any objections to the captivity or abuse. No, Jim’s been clear—you’re a waste of resources.

Anyway, it’s fucking Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber who show up. They’re not real twins (you’re not even sure they’re brothers), but they’re a damn good argument for nurture over nature. Spending the apocalypse together has them moving in tandem, grunting and jerking their heads to one another in a language all their own. They’re built like oxen and about as polite.

You don’t fight anymore, but they still tie you and drag you around. You haven’t so much as argued in weeks. You’ve heard that everyone breaks from torture eventually. You waved your flag from the start.

You’re not made for this.

They tie you up without touching your skin; hands layered in gloves just in case. They leave a length of rope from your wrists to pull you by, leaving the rope around your feet as it was. You had earned that six inches of slack, just enough to stand and walk to the makeshift toilet instead of crawling, after a solid week of good behavior.

When you figure it out, though, you try to run. Every electric screaming nerve in your body says to go. Go where? Who fucking knows. Anywhere. Away. Run.

The room they’ve brought to you is saturated in oaky musk, and you only need a glimpse of the little cage within before you’re jerking backward.

They must have gotten used to your compliance because the rope flies from Tweedle Dumb’s grasp. The three of you stand still for a moment, all shocked by the turn of events.

You turn to run, but it’s too late already. One of them swept your fucking legs like this was an action movie, and bound as you are, that’s the end of the fight. You crash and earn yourself some new bruises, and they drag you into the room by the rope between your feet.

One of them—you’ve forgotten who had which nickname in all the hubbub—snaps out a baton.

“Get in the fuckin’ cage, or I’ll break your ankles.”

It’s a strong argument that you have no desire to see if he’ll follow through on. Already hurt and humiliated, you crawl into the cage.

They lock it behind you and leave without another word. The lights go out with a buzz, casting everything you hadn’t taken in yet in total darkness.

When the lights come back on, you wish they hadn’t.

At first, you don’t even realize they’ve flickered to life, because what they’ve revealed isn’t real.

It’s a big, brown Rorschach blob. It’s an oil spill. It’s moving, in a jerky, fluid way that should be impossible. The limbs have pointed bony joints, and you can only describe the way they crawl as spidery, though they’re thick and bulky.

Jim is standing on the other side of the gate, holding onto a thick chain that rattles and creaks dangerously as the beast strains against the thick metal band around its neck. He looks bored, but he usually does.

Cheryl, however. The way her lips are curled, eyes wide and bright… this must be him.

“Don’t you know what happens to the others? The alphas?” she had teased the night of all the howling. She had laughed at the traitorously dumbfounded look on your face.

You do now.

A long pink tongue has unfurled from his massive jaw, flopped over far too many teeth, and dripping thick saliva onto the floor. The… fur, for lack of a better word, around his muzzle is matted with something dark that you can’t look at anymore.

Jim yanks him by the chain, and the creature lets himself be pulled to the door, barely holding still while the padlock and chain are removed from his collar and the cuffs from his paws.

He’s at the end of your cage before you realize he’s moved, and you scream, scrambling back as much as you can into the corner. The spaces between the bars are thin enough for just his… good god, are those fingers? They certainly aren’t canine toes. They’re tipped in thick, long claws packed with soil and detritus.

“Hey,” Jim barks, and the beast side-eyes him. “Remember what I fuckin’ told you. You break or eat her? That’s it. I’m not getting you another one.”

Eat? Eat?

Oh god.

Your stomach swoops and falls, abdomen clenching and drawing attention to your too-full bladder, unlocking a new fear that you’re going to piss yourself if he comes closer.

He does. You don’t. But just barely.

That long, dark snout pushes against the cage, as if it could nudge through to reach you, pink tongue lapping against the air. The oak musk is so strong now that it lines your throat and makes you gag.

You choke back a retch-turned-sob and he rumbles, a strange vibration that rattles the bars where he’s pressed against them. He rises, stretching up up up on his hind legs until he towers over your little cube, enveloping you in his shadow, and you can’t help it. You start to cry.

He can’t reach you, not when you’re tucked back in the corner of your cage. But he can smell you, and he can smell the rich iron soaking into the ropes around your wrists. It’s not yet visible, but the skin squishing through the edges is red and rough.

He whines, pushing his muzzle against the bars, long tongue flopping out like he can reach.

The sharp battery acid edge of your fear spikes, and he growls. Stupid girl. Stupid fucking omega. He’s trying to help you, and you’re—you’re—

You’re starting to cry again.

He can’t make human words like this, can’t enunciate or even really remember them. He tries to reach you through the bars again, snarling when they burn against his knuckles. Even the distended bony fingers of his full form can’t reach you there, not even with the tip of his claw.

You’re shaking now, body twitching and jittering beyond your control. Everything inside you is screaming white-hot and dissolving; vomit tickles the base of your throat, and you just can’t stop crying. It hurts; it’s ripping your throat and lungs to shreds. It’s a violent, tumultuous thing, and you can’t stop the wounded keening of your cries.

He’s pacing in front of your cage now, the beast, on four mangled limbs too long to be canine and too warped to be human. His huffs startle you, long snout returning, again and again, tongue darting out for a taste.

A little drop of blood slides down your hand from where the rope’s edge cuts into the bottom of your palm.

He freezes, nostrils flaring. You freeze, barely breathing.

He looks right at you and then tips his head back to howl, the sound like icy water through your veins.

You can’t help yourself. You scream, broken as your voice is from all the tears.

Between the cacophony, Jim stomps into the corridor and slams his hand on the wall. “Shut the fuck up, both of you!”

“Help me,” you yell.

I’m trying, the wolf howls.

“Please, please help me,” you gasp, sobs reaching new highs alongside your panic.

“If you don’t quiet the fuck down, I’ll open up your goddamn cage and let him eat you,” Jim snaps. “I said you were going to be more trouble than you’re worth, and I was fuckin’ right.”

The beast snarls, snapping his sharp teeth at the air.

Jim regards him with a sneer. “And you! Giving her a heart attack counts as breakin’ her.”

The words don’t make sense, but you don’t really hear them, anyway. “Please, I want to go home, please, please,” you whisper.

But no one’s listening.

The Wolf is listening.

He prowls back and forth on all fours, which really, isn’t any more or less terrifying than when he rises up on his haunches. Neither image capitulates to your need to make it make sense. There is no sense, no logic, no reality that can hold him.

The wolf, for really, that’s what he is, isn’t he? God, you don’t want to say it. Unbidden, a memory works loose in your brain, slipping out of the crates of nonsense stored away in favor of survival, and rattles around.

I know what you are. But you won’t say it.

Did you bring this upon yourself for reading trashy supernatural romance novels? Did you watch Underworld too many times? Did the shot actually put you in a coma, and you’re living in some kind of nightmare?

The wolf is watching you. There are no whites in his eyes, just pools of gasoline on muddy puddles.

You close your eyes and pretend you can’t hear the way his claws click against the tile.

While Laura had fed them stew, she told them about the trials.

They had been the first. The first taken, before volunteers were called. Before they knew they’d need secure places to hold them, they had been gathered for observation in an old YMCA, packed in racketball courts so the doctors could stand outside the large wall of glass and watch them all at once.

They stood outside that glass and watched them change, in one way or another. The ones who turned, as she called it, went first. The ones who would become test group alpha. More than half of the overall subjects, who became suddenly, violently ill.

They left them all in there with the rest, waiting, watching them cry out, watching them vomit and sweat and break impossible fevers. Temporal thermometers reading 105, 106, before they’d succumb to unconsciousness.

If they woke, they were… inhuman. Something more. Something hungry.

A lot of the first round of test data was lost when the subjects were eaten. But some were lost to the turn. Test group beta, Laura’s brother among them, didn’t survive the fever.

Laura’s husband turned but didn’t lose himself to the beast. Something in him stayed present, alert enough to protect his wife from the others. Or rather, something in her kept him that way. Something that had turned in her too, albeit without the violence, into something more than she’d ever been before.

“They drove us out of the QZ,” she said, picking idly at a gouge in the table’s surface. “To shoot us where they could burn all the bodies and forget.”

“And what happened?” Tommy asked, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

“We ate them.”

They come back for him that night but he’s not waiting for them. He’s sat with his big, furry back to you, close enough to the cage that you could pet him. The thought crosses your mind in a moment of delirium. You could stick your fingers through the little bars and feel the coarse hickory hair. You know, if you were clinically insane.

You’re not about to offer him a little snack.

He’d given up on reaching you a few hours ago, content to sit there unmoving once your tears dried up. It’s only slightly less terrifying.

But when they take him out, you only get to sit with the relief for a moment. Minutes pass in the dark and silent room, but you regret letting your guard down when footsteps echo through the cavernous halls beyond.

The Idiot Twins are back, and they’re not taking chances with you this time. Oh, no. When they unlock the cage, you’re faced with the barrel of a handgun that doesn’t leave your temple as they pull you out by your bound hands.

They don’t bother to stand you up or give you a chance to move on your own, just dragging you out of the room and across the hall. You’re sprawled on your stomach across the frigid floor of the new room, with the door slamming shut behind you without so much as a word.

The rusted pipes on the wall in the beast’s room make more sense now, once you take in your shadowy surroundings. This room has the same shitty tan tile over every inch, but the walls are lined with blue (or what used to be blue) lockers. Not a single one is intact, whether rusted or dented or doorless, but they’re unmistakably lockers.

There are two lines of seamless benches, though half are rotted to oblivion. But it’ll be a better bed than the floor.

This is practically paradise. There’s a tray by the door that you don’t see for a while, but when you do, you almost cry again. Might have, if you hadn’t spent the day in tears.

It’s just broth and water, long gone lukewarm and dusty, but you set upon it like a vampire upon a vein. Wait, no, you really don’t want to think about that right now. But it’s not your fault you’ve got monsters on the brain.

Your reprieve is not long. The sun rises.

The beast returns.

Oh, and he’s pissed that you’re gone, based on the fucking racket that brings you back to the waking world.

“Oh, did you think you’d been good enough lately for a treat?” Cheryl taunts him.

The steel doors between you aren’t enough to hide the sounds of his fury.

“You’ll have her back when you’ve earned her,” she tells him amidst the cacophony of snarling and gnashing.

It’s ten days before they return you to the cage. Ten days of poking around the abandoned lockers and finding nothing. Ten days of broth delivered at dawn and dusk. Ten days of your back no longer appreciating the bench to stretch out on.

Ten days of listening to the nonstop scratching and growling and whining from across the hall. And worse. Oh, much worse. Wet squicks and splatters and harsh groans. You’re not sure if he’s eating or masturbating or what, but it sends shivers through your whole body each time.

It also sends the weird, sticky slick pooling between your thighs, but you ignore that. It’s been happening since the shot, one of the weirder side effects, but it’s gotten downright fucking annoying since you got here.

You try not to think about it.

It’s not long after they drag you back to the little cage that they drag him into his. For that’s what this room really is, you know that, even if it doesn’t make you feel better about being in there with him. He’s trapped, too, but you’re the one in danger.

They haven’t untied your wrists since the first time, which have blistered and bled and scabbed until the ropes rubbed the scabs raw and started the whole thing all over.

He smells it before he sees it, any interest in the slippery sweetness on your thighs gone when he tastes the blood in the air.

Hurt, he whines, though you can’t understand. Help.

You don’t cry this time, don’t split the sour tang with salt, but the fear and pain and exhaustion are enough to center him. If he tries, if he could just focus…

And there it goes. You watch, mouth agape and eyes blown wide, as he shifts in front of you for the first time. He backs away while it happens until he’s on the other side of the room and sits his very bare ass on his bed.

You watch the way his bones jerk and his body shakes and cracks and huffs out sharp, agonized grunts until he’s just a man. Just a man, nothing more. Just a beast masquerading. Worse than a wolf in sheep’s clothing, you think, because you know he’s the wolf, but right now?

He’s just a pathetic, broken human. Bruised and bloodied, though his marks are rapidly fading as the healing takes over, but his face is edged in nothing but pain and sorrow.

“M’not gonna hurt ya,” was the first thing he croaked out.

You startle, rattling the cage a little, which makes you wince.

But he stays on the other side of the room. He’s sitting on his mattress, legs bent up and crossed, as if he had anything left to hide. As if you hadn’t seen too much already.

He tries not to think about it, but jesus. It’s a fucking struggle. As he takes you in this way, unclouded by the hazy moon, it still punches him back. Your smell.

Joel’s never really liked tart things. Too much of a secret sweet tooth, of a deep yearning for the char and depth of anything fresh from the grill.

But even now, even nearly fully man , he’s salivating at your green apple tang. Of uncovering the sweet ‘n sour burst of you on his tongue. Of letting his sharp teeth fall sharper through the tough act you fail to wear right, too bruised and soft underneath.

To feel the way you’d give beneath him. The way you’d spill down his chin. No. He has to get a fuckin’ handle on himself. He can’t even look at you, not now that he knows you can smell the salt of his own slick where his swollen cock sits sobbing, neglected and furious.

“I’m not,” he protests against your silence.

He’s not sure who he’s trying to convince.

But he doesn’t stay himself for long. Not after he thinks instead, suddenly, of autumn. Of the sweet smell of the orchard. Of taking Tommy’s truck up up up into the places where seasons meant something.

The roads sprawled like veins and they followed them with no end just to see the way the trees curled overhead, branches reaching and burning with dying leaves—a sight so devastating that Joel considered leaving Texas behind for somewhere he could start to take this beauty for granted.

Chasing the colors led them first to a field of corn, blustering amber in the setting sun. They had returned the next day, fresh from the motel with burnt coffee and warm flannels, parting with precious dollars for the privilege of picking pumpkins and apples and a little corn husk doll.

He’d have paid every cent ten times over to see Sarah smile like that again.

This is where the man breaks and bows out. Where the wolf at its weakest is still stronger than Joel. He gives in, gives into the grief, gives into the wolf, and shifts back. He stays curled up on his bed, though, and doesn’t look at you.

He doesn’t speak to you again for a month.

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