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jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue · 2 years

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Hollow Moon - Taehyung wolf au Part 1

Guess who has a thousand series already but decided to start another one 🙃 welcome to the hollow moon universe. Taehyungs story is the first to be introduced, since it’s his birthday, but I have plans for the rest of the maknae line’s stories in this world. 2K words angst

“Is she ready?” the elder asks as if you weren’t in the very room.

The wind in your lungs is forced out as the omega maid pulls the ribbon of your corset too tight, black lace dress adorned on your skin for another viewing.

“Almost,” she says, neither of them addressing your silence. You had nothing to say, you had said it too many times and it had fallen on deaf ears.

You were blessed by the Moon, you were destined to be a Luna, it was the duty of the elders and the pack to find you your mate, the alpha you were tied to by the wisdom of the celestial light in the sky.

You had endured so many visits from visiting packs, breathing a sigh of relief each time they weren’t the one. Maybe the Moon took pity on you and would keep them away from you, but you knew time was running out.

“The alpha will meet you in the grand hall Luna,” the elder speaks to you but he can’t stand to look at you, your packmates don’t hide their distaste for your contemporary views. You couldn’t become a rogue, they wouldn’t let you, the Moon chose you for a reason, they trusted that, so they kept their patience and in turn kept you in a cage.

You nod, ready to get another visit out of the way as you walk to the room that made your anxiety rise.

The oak floor seemed to hold the light of the Moon through the arch windows, the bitter cold held in between the ground and the ceiling that was twenty feet high, despite the flames of the wood burning on the walls. You look up at the heavenly body that cursed your life from birth, praying to it that it would have mercy on you now. You can feel your heart accelerate and thump the way it always did during these meetings, you wanted to run, your legs begged for it. You couldn’t breathe, the adrenaline was causing your lungs to seize so you stopped trying, wolves could hold their breaths longer than humans. The second you did you could hear the doors open behind you, turning at the sound as he walked through, and your worst fear takes you.

As soon as he sees you he smiles, it's caught in the light of the moon, but on his face it seemed like it came from within, blinding but beautiful, like he were a Sun. He was tall, larger than you, and that's what you pinned the blame on as to why you could suddenly feel his gravity. You can feel your heart restart, unaware it had stopped beating for a moment, it matched his steps as he approached you and your eyes were caught like orbs in his light.

You watch him inhale like a man starved of air, his smile grows, eyes closing in delight. You can see the signs in front of you, but you deny it in your mind, despite your own senses reacting to him. His presence had activated three of yours, but you refused to allow any more. There were seven senses to a body, vision, auditory, olfactory, gustatory, tactile, vestibular, and proprioception, each one was renewed when you met your mate, and he attacked another of yours without your permission.

“You’re heavenly Luna,” his deep voice grasped your heart in a way you begged it not to, a losing battle you were soon realising, you were losing control of yourself and you blamed the alpha in front of you.

Kim Taehyung, the elder had said in the pack meeting this morning, a name you didn’t bother taking in until now. Maybe his beauty had just taken you by surprise, maybe he wasn’t what you were terrified of meeting.

“You haven’t breathed yet,” he states, a simple fact that holds too much weight.

You shake your head, breaking out of the trance in panic of your drowning thoughts, you couldn’t, you knew, of course you knew. You saw him and you understood why humans were so enamoured with the Sun, the moon held nothing to you now, he was the only light you were tied to. If you breathed him in, if you smelled him… no, you didn’t want a mate, you didn’t want this.

He closed the distance, coming too close that all the hair on your skin stood on end as if to reduce the remaining space between you, but you didn't budge, despite the way your heart ached to give in. He was so beautiful, so perfect, how could the Moon torture you like this when she knew you didn’t want this?

“Breathe me in Luna,” he whispers in a deep tone that vibrates across the air, face so close to yours your lips would touch, you gasp when your eyes meet, the action causing you to give in, and when you do the foundations of the world you stand on shakes and changes, and every bone in your body now belongs to him.

He grins, not in victory, but ignorant happiness, unaware you were going to tear it all away. You both watch each other’s eyes dilate and change, your wolves coming to the forefront of the windows of your mortal bodies as if to say hello. You can see your reflection in how wide his eyes are blown, the darkness in them so inviting, like an opening to his soul. Your heart feels so prominent in your chest but you can feel it rising, lifting like it were a feather but you could feel it’s weight. It’s too much, too overwhelming when you know you do not want this.

You step back as you exhale, the mere moment you were caught in felt like a frozen eternity but you broke the spell your souls were under. He frowns, subtly but you can see it. He reached out to you and before you could back away or warn him against it, his large hands engulfed yours, and you were caught again. His touch was like fire and ice, seething and soothing, like an invisible imprint on the fabric of your skin that only you could see and feel. You snatch it back from his grasp, like he burned you, and his frown now deepens.

“I don’t want this,” you say, the first words he hears from his mate that trigger the renewal of his auditory senses is rejection, and you can see the light leave his eyes.

“Y/n,” you’ve taken his breath away, his heart, his hope in a single sentence.

“I reject this bond, I reject this courtship,” you almost sound angry, and you are. “I reject Kim Taehyung as my mate.”

Every word you uttered felt like lead on his chest, the moment he saw you, he couldn’t describe the happiness he felt, and now, he couldn’t understand what was going on.

“Why?” his eyes are on you with shock, almost tears, a wolf waits his whole life to find his mate, Taehyung waited for so long, he endured so many visits, so many offers from other packs to forgo the moon’s wishes and marry their daughters, but he didn’t, he put every faith and hope and dream into finding you. But you shattered all those things in a second, a mate wouldn’t do that, surely. He can’t understand it.

“An Alpha is the Sun, his Luna is the Moon, that’s how it is, that's how it works,” he states the tradition of generations before you, trying to convince himself of the laws he'd learnt since birth, facts you knew, facts you had been taught your whole life.

“I don’t want that, I never wanted that, I don’t want to be told I have to love you and want you, I want to decide for myself,” you argue back, jaw set against him. “I don’t want you.”

His chest feels like it caves in, a hole forming fast and deep with no end, he tries not to let it show but you can see him swallow down his sadness, the subtle way his features soften and change, and it makes you ache despite your words.

“We’re made for each other,” he says gently, scared now, terrified.

“Who says?” Why did the moon choose this beautiful man for you? Why did she make this so hard? You didn’t want to hurt him, but you didn’t want to give in.

“Is there someone else?” He almost whispers it, the fear that’s been creeping in his head since you began to reject him.

“No,” you say adamantly, truthfully.

“Then why are you rejecting me without giving me a chance?”

To a human these words would sound appalling, he wasn’t owed one, but to a wolf, with the gravity of knowledge on how mating worked, on what pain denying your fated one was, the question was justified. You could already hear the hollow echo in his voice from the cavity of his chest, and it killed you knowing you were the cause of it. How unlucky this wolf was being tied to you.

“Can’t we get to know each other at least?” He begs. “Please.”

You shake your head in answer, mind already made up years prior to his visit.

He hesitantly takes your hands into his own, moving tentatively closer sadly as his eyes watch your reaction.

“The Moon trusted your heart with me,” he whispers. “With her wisdom can’t we try?”

You look up at his watering eyes, the way they looked at you so deeply, wide and full of misplaced hope. The Moon was cruel in her punishments, what had this alpha done to be chained to you? He didn’t deserve this, but that didn’t mean you would bow to the rules.

“I’m sick of people telling me what to do with my heart,” you whisper back, removing your hands from his hold, staring back at his gaze so he would understand you meant every word. “It’s mine, not the Moons, not yours, I’ll decide what’s best for me.”

“Is that really what you’ve decided is best?” He questions in disbelief. “This is truly what you want?”

“Isn’t it what you want?” You reply from your own perspective, mirroring his frown. “The freedom to choose?”

He looks down to he floor, bottom lip trembling before he meets your gaze once again, a raw rift of sorrow surfacing onto his features.

“I just want you,” he confesses on the verge of tears.

You suck in a breath, a pause between you that only lasted a second.

“You don’t know me,” you reply, void of any emotion, the words are harsh to his ears, cold and empty. How did you manage to tear out his heart and not look fazed at all?

“I want to know you,” he whispers as the tears fall down his face, your eyes flicker to the wet trail on his cheek, a second of something flashing across your face but it doesn’t linger long enough for him to decipher. Couldn’t you feel what he was feeling? That pull that tied you both together, didn’t you want to give into it the way he did?

You shake your head solemnly, turning away from him with your arms across your body, holding onto each elbow, like a shield against him as if it would protect you. You gaze out of the window, and he stares dumbfoundead at you, the conversation cut to an end with your posture, you were done talking. He sighs with sorrow, an immense pain in his chest that made his body feel like lead, heavy as he tries to pull it away from you. Each step was filled with ache, his whole system screaming at him to turn back as he walks out of the hall.

You breathe a sigh of relief, ignoring the way your limbs panicked at the distance he was physically creating, the distance you asked for. You blink back the tears that tried to surface against your wishes, jaw clenched as a wave of turmoil washes over you.

The sensation agitates your breathing, by the time you regain control over your own lungs, you can hear his pack making their exit in the snow. You watch out of the arch window at his advisors leaving in wolf form. Even though you had never seen his wolf you knew they weren’t him, you knew they wouldn’t hold a candle to him. You tell yourself to look away but you can’t bring yourself to.

You weren’t wrong, a grey majestic wolf appears in your line of sight following the awaiting pack members, but his paws move heavily through the snow, his ears bowed to the ground, the visible signs of an alpha mourning. You swallow down the strangled feeling of your heart leaping into your throat, an immense pressure felt in your neck from the urge to cry out, but you hold it in. He turns back for a moment, eyes lifted to the sky in search of you one last time. You hold his gaze, trying to keep the emotions out of your face as they raced through your veins. The moment felt like an eternity, and had you given it it would have been, but it is broken as he turns away. You chest tugs towards him, a hand splayed across your ribs as you push back, watching each step he took away from you, and each one he took felt like a knife to your gut.

Your wolves were a manifestation of your souls, it seemed only fitting he bared his as he left.

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taglist: @nlost21 @pb-n-juju @needyomnivore @lvpersona @marvelfamily3000 @love2lovesworld @halesandy @dreamamubarak

#BTS wolf au #bts werewolf #bts werewolf au #BTS au #bts hybrid au #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x reader #bts angst #bts scenarios #taehyung x reader #taehyung wolf au #taehyung werewolf #bts abo #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts writing #taehyung au #taehyung angst

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cinnamonest · 3 years

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Lupophobia

Yandere "Escape Attempt" prompt - Razor

-------------------- Words: 8,944 Warnings:-fem reader, attempted noncon beastiality (none actually happens), yandere/captivity, noncon, biting, breeding, brief gendered themes/tones involving animal mating. Heavily inspired by my degrees of lewdity "deviant"/beastiality playthrough. I applied things I learned in college linguistics for this. Truly putting my education to a good purpose. --------------------- The fortunate thing about animals, and their adjacents, was that they were very easy to deceive, and no matter what, they would fall for the same trick, time and time again. "You see it girl? You want it?" You grimaced at the slimy texture on your fingers, wiggling the fatty slab in your grip and swallowing the sickness that came from looking at it. Out of, you supposed, ingrained social habits, you gave an awkward smile as you wiggled the meat. In contrast, the wolf had the opposite reaction, her ears immediately perked up, and she leaped into a playful position, front half low to the ground as her tail stuck up, and a low whine escaped her throat, eyes fixated on the meat. Yes, unlike with people, who had a greater capacity for pattern recognition and learning, who followed the fool me once, fool me twice mantra, you could count on animals to be easily deceived over and over without having to change the way you deceived them. This was far from the first time you had pulled this exact move, nor was it difficult to do -- you merely waited for a spare moment to rip out a chunk of the meat and hid it away for a little while while the rest of the pack was not looking, too absorbed in their own gorging to even cast a glance in your direction. "You want it...?" You repeated, wiggling the slab again in front of the wolf's eyes. Drool spilled out of the side of her mouth between her sharp, glistening teeth, and she let out another whine.

This was not the first time this trick had worked. This was not the first time you'd managed to steal and hide a hunk of meat away while the animals gorged themselves on the remains of whatever poor creature fell victim to them. Hell, this wasn't even the first time that this specific trick had worked on this specific individual wolf. You'd come to recognize each of them with time, even assigned them little names in your head by identifiers. She was a mother, one of the wolves that remained behind at the little den while the others went out for hunting, leaving only the nursing females, the smallest pups, and, well, yourself. Albeit in a weakened state in nursing, they were still easily capable of overpowering you, and, through means you honestly did not understand, they somehow knew they were supposed to prevent you from leaving. Even when you stood up, one or more of them would immediately pick their heads up, ears falling flat and even letting out the softest of warning growls.

She whined in front of you, eyes fixated on the slab. You wiggled it again. It was an easy deceit to pull off. "You want it... then go... get it!"

You hurled the hunk of red flesh as far as your arms could manage, and, exactly per plan, the she-wolf immediately bolted in the direction of the throw. And likewise, you turned on your heel and began the now-routine dash in the opposite direction -- the direction of human civilization. That had been the easy part.

It was the rest of the way that would be difficult. This time of day was the only opportunity you had to pull this whole thing off, but the sun was quickly setting, and unlike the wolves, you were not exactly gifted with night vision. You likened the route to an obstacle course, a puzzle -- repeated actions that became muscle memory. The first few times, you'd merely stumbled around in the woods for a few minutes. With each successive attempt, you retained more knowledge of the path, could clear a longer distance in increasingly shorter times, memorized landmarks, remembered little helpful actions and hindrances, and with each successive attempt, you found yourself making it closer and closer to the end of the woods than the time before. There wasn't much else to go by, so you used trees that stood out to you. The huge tree with the hollowed out hole in the center was the first landmark -- go right. The tree that had an oddly-angled branch came next. So on and so on. You measured success by how many of said landmarks you could pass in time, striving to make each a longer and longer venture every time. Just when despair had been finally getting the better of you, the last attempt had had you finding a footpath used by the Springvale hunters, and that meant you were close. If you could just find that again -- there. To say flat ground was a welcome feeling to your bare feet was an understatement. The slimy dirt texture of the forest floor and prickly leaves and pine needles was not a pleasant sensation. Nonetheless, there was no time to savor it or anything, soon, soon, you'd walk on paved streets, and floors, and, and... You stopped for a mere moment, panting, desperately taking in deep breaths to soothe the exhaustion burning in your chest. You darted your head from side to side. There was no sign of anything coming your way. No footsteps or growls in the distance behind you. You felt your heart pounding in your chest, as much from physical exertion as it was from a blooming, disbelieving excitement. I might actually make it. Your legs felt weak at the prospect, and you steadied your stumbling against a tree. You were certain you'd never made it this far before. It was difficult to process, almost surreal. After so, so, so many times, over the course of months and months, you were so used to being stopped by this point that your brain half-expected it at any moment. You'd really reached a point at which the escape attempts were almost done with a knowing futility, you no longer really had much hope when setting out, merely running on principle and the faint chance that was now so real. You could be stopped any moment. And yet, after a few more breaths, nothing happened. You shook your head to clear the dizziness, taking a deep breath and squinting forward in the twilight. You nearly felt your heart stop when you processed a shape in the distance -- a building. Springvale. It was distant and downhill, but visible. Right there within your reach, and all you had to do was go to it, so you steadied your breath and took off as fast as-- The world suddenly spun around you as something snatched at your ankle. Your shriek echoed off the trees, reverberating until it grew silent. A clanging of metallic sounds accompanied it, rattling hollowed objects triggered into motion. Everything began to settle, the sudden flooding of stimuli to your eyes and the feeling of sudden movement both slowing to a gentle sway. You were unbreathing, unblinking, heart pounding as your vision spun and, in a panicked haze, you desperately darted your eyes and head each way, struggling to process your senses. Your head felt suddenly tight and tense, your upper half heavy, and a burning pain wrapped around your ankle. Everything was... upside down. You looked down -- no, up -- at your feet. One was bent at the knee, falling in the direction of gravity towards your head, the other was extended perfectly straight, tense and unable to move. A cord was snagged around your ankle, a perfect tightened knot that wrapped around the flesh. You looked up -- no, again, down -- at the ground. Nausea lurched in your stomach as you did, seeing the forest floor a good drop below. You took a moment to process. You followed the trail of the rope from where it tugged painfully at your ankle, followed it to the branch it looped over, and down the trunk to the base of the tree, where it was securely tied around a knotted root. The metallic sound had come from what appeared to be collected garbage, metal scraps, a glass bottle or two, and some metal tools and cans all tied up in a net and secured to the spot where the rope met the branch, an alert that the trap had been set off. Your mouth hung open, you blinked over and over, before finally, bitter anger burst in your chest. "Ghhhhh!" You let out a frustrated, furious cry, thrashing wildly and pulling at your scalp. You kicked and struggled, but only succeeded in making yourself swing, making the nausea and dizziness worse. A trap. Of course. The furthest you've ever gotten, and you were stopped by a fucking hunting trap. Damn those Springvale hunters for coming this far out into the woods. It could be worse, you tried to console yourself. It could have been a bear trap, which would have more or less destroyed your leg, possibly taken it clean off. But nonetheless, misery and frustration bubbled up in your chest as you swung back and forth, slowing down to stillness. You'd never made it this close to town before. You could see the road as well, albeit just barely, a few hundred yards in the distance. You could make out where the dirt path became gravel in the distance, upside-down in the last light of the quickly-setting sun, and, as tears filled your eyes, you reached a hand out to it, miserably grasping your hand shut before letting your arm fall. It was so, so close! Now you were trapped, stuck here in this miserable, humiliating predicament, and you'd have to wait to be saved, and inevitably dragged back the way you'd come. You thrashed again, trying and failing to curl your body up and reach your foot. Your fingers just barely grazed the knot of the rope, but even if you could reach it, it was designed for your body weight to hold the knot in place to begin with. You let out a shaky sigh and a small sob, tears dripping directly out of your eyes and falling downward with gravity. You wiped your eyes, and a thought made a bit of nervous, daring hope light up in your chest. You were close to Springvale, right? Maybe you could be heard. This trap was set by the Springvale hunters themselves, right? You'd seen these types before, a snare that, when tripped, released on one side and whipped around the center of the force that tripped the rope, forming a perfect, tight knot around the ankle of the prey before hauling it upwards by use of weight. You took a deep breath and cupped your hands around your mouth. "Help!" You called out, straining out the vowel as long as you could, before inhaling a ragged breath and repeating the action. As the echoes quieted, you waited, but nothing happened. You wriggled and writhed, but only succeeded in making the net of metal rattle. You supposed it helped the hunters hear animals struggling, and led them to the source. But the hunters wouldn't be back out until tomorrow, you couldn't afford to wait for them to come rescue you on their own. You waited a moment, trying again and again to yell. The Springvale hunters, a traveler on the road, hell, you'd accept help from treasure hoarders if they hung out in this part of the wilderness. Anyone, anyone human. Well, except one, preferably, but still. Any other human being. You couldn't even remember the last human interaction you'd had. At least, a fully human interaction, without any licks or whines or growls or other canid behaviors you'd become far too accustomed to. But nobody came. You waited. Tried again. And again. And again. No response. Your head was beginning to pound and throb. You'd black out if you stayed like this much longer, and you were pretty certain it could even kill you. But nothing was responding to your cries for help. You wracked your brain in panic for a solution. An idea popped into your head. You'd seen Razor do it before, and the wolves responded to him even though he produced the sound with a human voice, so maybe you too could... It was embarrassing, but worth a try. You didn't exactly have many options. You jerked your bodyweight in the other direction, making yourself turn to face the woods in the direction you'd come from instead of Springvale. You reached your quickly-numbing arms up and cupped your hands around your mouth, forming your lips into an "o" shape, and, well, swallowed your pride. You didn't have any better ideas. "Awooooo--" You tried to mimic the howls you'd heard so many times as accurately as you could manage, but it came out a bit strained and comical. You waited a moment, and, receiving no response, whimpered in your desperation and tried a second time. Your voice echoed throughout the trees. You weren't certain exactly how it worked, you were pretty certain they had different tones they used, some for aggression, some as a cry of distress, but you weren't capable of telling them apart. You could only hope for the best. It wasn't really as if they could help you, but at the very least, they would probably go find Razor for you. They'd done so before, after another humiliating failure when you'd fallen into a hole in the earth during a past attempt. You'd learned they were far more intelligent than you once thought, and they understood things like that, at least. But gods, did this make you feel dumb. Your face heated with embarrassment with each attempt. You inhaled to try a third time, but as you did, a shrill howl pierced the air from a distance. A response. Your heartrate picked up as a little spark of relief and hope -- albeit dread that lurked in the back of your head -- made you shudder. You howled again, and received a second response. It carried on for a few minutes that way, sounding back and forth, and it sounded like the other was getting closer. Finally, you heard steps, and anticipation swelled in your chest. You were pretty sure that the response howls had been that of an actual wolf -- even you, in your time in these woods, had learned to tell the difference between Razor's vocalizations and that of the wolves. There were simply some aspects of the canid sounds that human vocal chords could only mimic, but not recreate to a perfect likeness, and thus his vocalizations were a bit distinct. Still, you could be wrong, or, even better, perhaps the footsteps coming close to you weren't an animal at all, but perhaps a different figure, maybe a hunter...? No, that was definitely a four-legged gait. That, too, was something you had learned to tell apart, a two-legged gait versus a four-legged one. It kind of came in handy when you were trying to to hide or run and needed to gauge exactly what was hunting you down. You craned your neck to the best of your ability in the direction of the sound. A creature emerged from the trees. You took a sharp breath. ...It was merely a very large, brownish-greyish wolf. It gazed up at you with big black eyes and ears perked up in alertness. You squinted. You'd never seen this wolf before. You were fairly certain of this much; during your time in the woods, you'd learned to distinguish between them pretty well. You learned the little differences -- this one was bigger, this one had a scratch on its ear, this one had a scar on its hip, this one was more brown and this one was more grey, and so on it went. This one was different from all the wolves you'd become familiar with. The wolf sat down, tilting its head at you, tongue lolling out as it panted. It was huge, muscular looking. "Help," you whimpered. As aware as you were that it obviously did not understand, you couldn't think of anything else to do. You flailed a bit in your desperation, and pointed towards the spot where the rope was tied to the tree. "Help me... Come on, please..." The wolf actually followed the line of your pointing, eyes settling on the base of the trap. And, miraculously, moved towards it. Your heart pounded. Did it actually understand? Would it help? It walked over and bit at the rope, shaking its head rapidly in the same way you'd witnessed the wolves kill small prey, or how dogs played with toys. It was helping! You shuddered again, hope burning in your chest, and a tear of relief dripping from your eyes upside-down to the ground below. And if this wolf wasn't from the pack, it wouldn't take you back, right? How, you weren't certain, but the other wolves seemed to understand the... arrangement going on. Many of your escape attempts had been thwarted not by your captor himself, but by the pack -- surrounding you in a circle, barking and growling and snapping at you until you were forced to turn back, even tackling you as you ran, biting your clothes and arms to drag you back. But this wolf would let you go, right? .... Wait a second. Cold dread suddenly made your stomach lurch. This wolf had no reason to help you, and no reason to drag you back. It had every reason to see you as easy prey. Any relief or hope you'd felt was immediately replaced with a chilling rush of panic. Yes, you would be easy prey, right there for the taking. You thrashed about, trying again to reach up and loosen the knot on your foot, but failing. Fuck. You were trapped between two unpleasant options. There was a chance the wolf was just helping, but in the end, it was an animal, not a person, with instincts of goodwill or benevolence. It would follow its instincts. Once you hit the ground, you'd have to run. That was the only solution. But... it also occurred to you only then that you were hanging a good fifteen feet or so in the air. Upside down. What if the fall knocked you out? Hell, what if it broke your legs? What if it broke your spine? If it were Razor himself, he'd lower you down slowly, but the wolf lacked the sense or ability to do so. You'd just drop. Fuck, fuck, fuck. There was a thick coating of leaves on the ground, which would hopefully help, and this part of the forest had soft, clay-like ground rather than hard rock, but nonetheless, it was a long drop. Dammit! Your body wracked with a sob of frustration, anger, and panic. Why did all of this have to happen to you? You'd asked yourself that that plenty of times. You didn't do anything to deserve-- There was a snapping sound. You shrieked as gravity immediately sent you crashing down, world spinning around you, and you collided with the earth with crash that took the breath from your lungs; the sound flooded your ears, echoed as your head went numb. You landed directly on your back, eyes looking up at the trees and the sky beyond then as the world spun around you and your vision darkened. Pain ran through your body on impact, a rough, blunt sort of pain that ached through your flesh and meat and bones. You groaned in pain, teeth clenched as it flooded your senses, trembling as it slowly began to ebb away after the initial blow. The wolf's face popping into your vision sent you jolting back to awareness. It was startling, it's cold wet nose pressing against your own, and after a moment, it lapped its tongue against your face. Panic seized your entire body, and you were frozen, unable to move, not even breathing, eyes wide in terror. And then it licked you again, letting out a soft, tender whine. It was being friendly. You let out a shuddering sigh as relief washed over you again, and you thanked whatever god was looking out for you for granting you your life. "Th-thank you," you murmured, reaching a trembling hand up to pat the wolf's head, wincing at the soreness in your arm. It whined again, bumping its head against yours. Wolves were far, far larger than you were certain most people realized. Back home, you'd always thought that the howls you heard at night from within the safety of Mondstadt's walls were from creatures no bigger than the large hunting dogs you'd seen in Springvale. In reality, that was not the case. Even the smallest of the wolves were massive in comparison to those dogs, their heads easily twice the size of your own. You'd been utterly terrified of them in the beginning, bursting into frightened tears whenever one made its way over to sniff you in their curiosity, or dump an offering of a small creature's carcass at your feet in a show of friendliness (an unsettling experience, no matter how many time you were told it's good, 'cause they like (y/n)), or lick your face in an attempt to show affection. You'd grown used to it with time. But this wolf was even larger than the majority you'd seen, easily thrice your size in every capacity. Likely a loner separated from its pack. You were aware there were sometimes conflicts between the larger, stronger pack males that ultimately ended in the loser leaving the pack and heading off on its own, although it seemed nearly incomprehensible that a wolf of this size would lose to anything. Had it chosen the route of violence, you wouldn't have stood a chance. You laid there for a moment, head spinning as you took deep, shaky breaths, trying to calm yourself down and regain your sense of control over your body. You curled your fingers and toes, flexed the muscles in your arms and legs. You were a bit scraped up and your entire body still ached from the impact, but miraculously, nothing seemed broken. You closed your eyes, feeling the cool evening breeze and the wet tongue that was repeatedly lapping at your face. Finally, after a moment, with a groan at the ache in your body, you pushed yourself upward with your elbows, flipping over to your hands and knees, pulling your leg forward to stand-- The breath was knocked out of you yet again as a massive weight crashed down onto your body. You clawed at the ground, gasping to regain oxygen, body going tense. "Wh-what-" The creature let his bodyweight fall down on your frame, and you grunted as your upper half slammed into the ground. It rendered you entirely immobile, this wolf was both massive and heavy, you could barely breathe under the sheer mass of its body. You struggled to push yourself back up onto your elbows. "H-hey, what are you--" With a whine, it rutted its hips forward. Oh, fuck. "N-no!" You tried to rear up, pushing your upper half upward on your elbows as hard as you could, to no avail. Its weight was crushing. "B-bad! Bad dog! Stop!" You clawed at the dirt, gasping as it thrust again. "Get off!" It only let out the same high, throaty whine, thrusting its hips several times in quick succession, humping your ass with desperation. You could feel its blunt-ended cock digging into the flesh, making your blood run cold. When it rutted forward, the motion hiked your ragged little dress up, bunching up the fabric and exposing your cunt. You whimpered with fear, desperately trying to drag yourself forward. "Stop, stop, get off!" You thrashed again, achieving nothing by the action. The worst part, the dread that was quickly overtaking your thoughts, was that you knew it was futile. You'd learned a long time ago that your resistance would mean nothing, not by the brutal laws of the world outside of the fragile sense of safety human society provided. It was expected. It happened among the wolves themselves all the time -- the mates were not something that were chosen in the same way humans did. Too many times you'd witnessed the ritual -- the males would fight, snarling and growling and lunging at each other until one would give up and run scurrying away, tail tucked between its legs. Growing up with all the knowledge you'd learned from books and what humans generally observed of the animals, you'd always assumed that from that point, the she-wolves would then gladly and willingly copulate with the victor, but, you'd quickly learned, that was not the case. It had shocked you the first few times, your eyes widening and your mouth dropping open as you witnessed the poor females get tackled, mounted, their whimpers as teeth sank into their shoulders and kept them in place. It was brutal, and yet, you'd come to understand and accept it was simply the way things were. Perhaps the part that had shocked you the most was how accepted it was -- the other wolves would simply look on, adjusted to what was normal among them, and the brutalized female would, from that point on, act as a normal mate to what more or less was originally her assailant -- licking and grooming each other, sleeping next to one another, spending time with each other, all as if such a thing made sense. Given the acceptant, compliant state you sometimes found yourself slipping into, you supposed you weren't too different in that way. Because they're strong, you'd been told. Beating the other male and forcibly mating the female herself signified strength. They were supposed to try to run and fight, and the male was supposed to forcibly overpower them, a display of strength, of suitableness as a partner. That was why fighting back didn't matter -- it was supposed to be that way, in the minds of the animals, and thus they were content with that setup. The present moment was anything but content. Another rut of the wolf's hips brought you snapping out of your brief thought, back to the moment at hand. The forest was quiet aside from your own struggling, the last rays of light were fading from the sky, the moon hanging high in place of their light. You let out a shrill, squeaking cry, thrashing with renewed effort, but, predictably, not even budging. "Get off! Get off me! Stop it, bad dog!" No matter how you tried, you couldn't move your body in the slightest, perfectly pinned still. "Fuck..." It let out another whine, not even seeming to notice your struggles, grasping at your shoulder with its teeth, and you feared that if it bit down, it might shatter your shoulder. It rutted forward, and this time you froze, entire body going tense as the blunt head of its cock pressed firmly against your exposed slit. You finally managed to claw at the leaf-covered ground enough to pull yourself forward, if but just an inch -- and the wolf, snarling, thrust its own body forward to push you back into the same position. One of its front paws reached forward and clawed onto your shoulder, and you squealed as it pulled you back, forming a tiny cut in the flesh of your jugular. Your began to nearly hyperventilate, trembling, breaths shallow and quick. "S-stop..." Your plea was defeatedly quiet, realizing that further protest would only hurt you. Tears gathered in your eyes. Your back was bent at an angle under the sheer weight of the furry mass that kept you pinned, and it felt like your very lungs were crushed, breathing quickly becoming difficult. You began to feel your body tingling with numbness. It was so heavy and difficult to breathe you weren't certain you'd even survive if it fucked you. Panic seized your brain, overriding any coherent thought. There was a snarling, growling sort of noise that cut through the surrounding stillness. It wasn't coming from the creature mounted on your body. It didn't sound canid. It was human. Much like the howls, you had learned, with time, how to distinguish between the real and the imitation, those sounds that, no matter how long of a lifetime of practice one had, could simply not match the vocals of another species. The wolf stopped its motions, turning its head, and likewise immediately transitioned its entire demeanor, tensing up and returning the sound, a low snarl, baring its teeth as its snout wrinkled up. It dismounted your body and lowered itself to the ground, hips and shoulders raised as its core sank low, a preparatory stance ready to lunge. You fell forward, face crashing into the leaves, before scrambling upwards and falling back on your ass, propped up with your hands behind you and your knees bent as you froze, unable to move a muscle, eyes open wide and gasping for breath as air burned in your lungs. You could see red-orange eyes glaring in the moonlight from a short distance, and for once, the face of the wolf-boy made a wave of relief come crashing down, rather than panic at being found. He made another low sound in his throat, a snarling growl. His shoulders hunched up in a similar motion to the wolf, baring his teeth, glare locked on the transgressor. He didn't have a weapon on him, so his hands clenched into fists at his side. You'd witnessed this plenty of times in the past by now, but never before with him as one of the participants. The other male wolves within the pack hadn't exactly taken an interest in you, rather, simultaneously accepted you as one of their own, while seeming to recognize you as something of an "other," as they did him. Among them, though, these conflicts were regularly occurring, a constantly shifting hierarchal dynamic that was weighted in blood and pure brute strength. Your heartrate picked up anew. Strong as Razor may be, this thing was massive. And he didn't have his claymore, you remembered he'd left it near the den earlier, before going on his daily routine to check the various animal traps. This wolf could kill him. And given that it wasn't a pack member, it wouldn't hesitate to do so. The wolf took a few heavy steps forward, growling all the while, and the wolf-boy reciprocated the action, a deep low growl in his throat as he stomped forward, fingers curling into a claw-like shape, not exhibiting so much as the slightest hesitation to show aggression against the massive creature. You tried to stand on your shaking legs, but fell on your ass again. "W-wait, no, r-run," you stammered, words spewing out of your mouth before you could process them, "he'll hurt you--" Your vision went white, bright light exploded all around, a crashing, booming sort of sound cutting off your words. There was a heat to it that you could feel on your skin, but it blinded your vision, leaving you blinking as, in a mere moment, the electric energy faded to a purplish glow that sparked with a buzz in the palm of his hand. The wolf leaped back in terrified shock, immediately flattening its ears, turning and tucking its tail between its legs, scrambling with fear into the darkness of the trees. And just like that, the threat was gone. You were left slack-jawed, mouth hanging open, trembling and panting as you watched it disappear, footsteps growing quieter and quieter until they could no longer be heard. Instead, the leaves to your side crunched in a two-legged pattern as the figure drew closer, and then dropped down to his knees to get on a face-to-face level. You turned your head and your eyes met. His eyes were wide and pupils blown even wider, mouth slightly open, looking you over. His eyes had always had a softness to them, full of light. After a moment, he reached up, slowly, and wiped the tears from your eyes, a soft, unthinking gesture, and leaned forward. He nuzzled his face against yours, and, after a moment, licked a few quick, short laps up the side of your face. It was nothing you weren't very well used to, and you merely sat numbly as he did so. His eyes trailed downward, widening as they met the gash that had been created on your neck by the massive wolf's claws, and he leaned forward again, lapping at your skin. You inhaled a sharp breath at the sting of his tongue on the wound, but you knew it actually was helpful in terms of clotting, so you didn't resist. You sat like that for a moment, silent, still, letting him clean up the wound, saliva naturally helping the healing process. It was bizarrely intimate in its own way, but it certainly wasn't the first time he'd helped in that way with a wound. It stopped stinging after a moment, blood clotting under the wet warmth. He pulled his head back, looking over you again as if to ascertain your unharmed state, eyes wide and expression flat, looking directly at your face - your weary face, trembling lip, expression still uneasy from the remaining shock. "You... Okay?" There was a softness to his face, a wide-eyed look of innocent concern. You did your best to nod. Any hope you'd had left had been crushed at some point in the adrenaline of the encounter, and thus, all chances of escaping gone, defeat and weariness washed over your body, and you slumped forward in exhaustion. Of course, he was unaware of and most likely did not even consider why you suddenly fell against him, he tended to take any action you made at face value and accepted it as simply what it was, and likewise, every action he made was easily interpreted the same way. It was, you sometimes consoled yourself, a rather welcome simplicity in contrast to the hidden and subtle meanings that humans often portrayed through their actions, and you never had to worry about an innocent action being misinterpreted maliciously, nor did you worry that your emotions were too transparent in your actions. Instead, he merely seemed pleased by the gesture, eagerly wrapping his arms around your frame and pulling your closer, rubbing his head up and down so the sides of your faces nuzzled together, squeezing you tightly. "I heard you," he said, a cheerful sort of pride in his voice. "Came to help." You swallowed. "Th-thank you..." As much as his sudden appearance crushed any chance you had of reaching Springvale, you couldn't help but feel a genuine relief, even gratitude, for saving you from what would have undoubted been a highly painful and traumatizing experience, if you'd survived the lack of oxygen. Not that you weren't already getting your fair share of traumatizing experiences out here, but, well, none quite like what your experience would have been had he not shown up. After a still, silent moment of embrace, he released you, shifted and stood up, but then suddenly tensed, and his eyes widened with what seemed like surprise, or perhaps realization, mouth opening slightly. His eyes were cast downward, settled on the cord that was still tightly tied around your ankle, and reached down to loosen the knot, slipping it off and tossing the remaining cord to the side. You made a small sound as if to start speaking, but cut off and fell silent, shutting your mouth. And then, as he came back up, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and processing, mouth slightly open as he looked a bit to one side, then the other, to you, and up to the tree from which you'd hung. The wheels were turning. Finally, after a moment, it seemed to click, his eyes went wide with realization for a split second before he turned his head back towards you and narrowed his eyes in a glare. His "angry" face had always been a bit difficult to take seriously, he had maintained a baby face despite his age, big eyes and soft features making it look like more of a pout than anything, but in time you'd learned the rightful amount of fear to have at seeing it. Your heart sank in your chest. "You ran away again." His voice was a bitter, grumpy mumble. You'd feared that when you noticed the surprising lack of anger up until a few moments ago. That it hadn't yet clicked with him, until now, exactly why you were out here, how you got out here, in the first place. He might have thought the larger wolf had dragged you out here, or, perhaps more likely, it had not crossed his mind at all in the intensity of the previous moments, too focused on conflict and comfort. "I..." You trailed off, trembling. There was a moment of silence. You couldn't exactly argue against it. It was true that he was rather gullible, and would often believe rather ridiculous excuses or explanations that anyone else would never buy, but there were limits to that, and at the present moment, you couldn't think of any excuse that even he would believe. Even if the wolf had come in to drag you away, the she-wolf set to guard you would have made a noise to alert the others, and he knew that. There was a moment of silence, and, not receiving any objection to his claim, he exhaled a frustrated huff through his nostrils. "I'm mad." As nice as it was that you didn't have to worry about being misinterpreted, another pro to your situation was that your captor was easily the most transparent person you'd ever met, bluntly honest, so much so it sometimes worked against him. You were pretty sure he couldn't be indirect or subtle with his words if he tried. Passive-aggressiveness or anything of the sort was foreign. "I'm sorry," you murmured, hoping to ease his anger, but you knew by now those words didn't really hold any meaning to him. He opened his mouth, that same pout on his face, and took a breath as if to speak, but no words came out. He closed his mouth, looking at the ground for a moment, opened again, repeated the process, and again, before roughly shaking his head, head hanging and expression falling to something like irritation and disappointment. With other people, you'd feel more intimidated by silence, silence meant someone was angry and trying to get under your skin. And while he made no attempt to hide being angry, you knew the silence wasn't an intentional passive-aggressive act, but rather, just lacking the proper words. It was a process you went through frequently, and to some degree, you felt bad for him. Having feelings, having complex thoughts, but lacking the knowledge or ability to articulate them, being unable to adequately express what you thought and felt, limited to such simple terms as sad and mad, words that could only convey incredibly simple feelings... you could only imagine how frustrating that would be. He knew that those words weren't enough, but didn't have any other ones to use. You understood why, then, he grunted in frustration, kicking at the ground, sending a few leaves scattering. But you also knew that if he could not express himself with words, actions would have to suffice. You knew better than to expect any different. This routine, despite its variances in the specifics of how the events went down, went like clockwork from this point onward, the moment of defeat. They say humans are, after all, creatures of habit. You nonetheless let out a little surprised sound at the suddenness with which you were lifted by the armpits, quickly moved a few steps to the side and unceremoniously pushed forward, facing one of the many boulders that dotted the forest floor. Instinctively, releasing an exhale of defeat and acceptance, braced yourself against it, hands pressed into the rock. You were technically standing, but leaning far forward, bodyweight resting mostly onto the rock you were bending over on. His front pressed against you, hand pushing your back down into an arch, latching arms around your waist. There was no hesitation, no preparation, merely pulling the fabric of your dress up with one swift motion, and the waist of his pants down in another, all in a matter of a single moment, and rutting against you, once, twice, cock slipping against your folds, and on the third thrust, it actually slid in, pushing about halfway in with harsh force with no warning. You gasped at the sting, clawing at the rock as your face twisted with the slight pain, but his hand gripped hard on your shoulder. "Stay... Still." It was honestly impressive, you sometimes thought, to manage to get a cock inside you so easily with hip angling alone. He'd never thought to use his hands to do so, you guessed due to merely mimicking what he observed, as all humans did. Nonetheless, you let out a mewl at the feeling of friction against your walls as it dragged, pulling out a bit before slamming back in. Then again, faster. And again, faster still. And finally, setting into a rhythm, quick and harsh, your body lurching forward at the force. Defeat and despond had fully set in, and you made no movement to fight back, instead attempting to ease the discomfort by pushing back with the thrusts. And then, after a moment, it stopped. It often did -- again, a set pattern, a routine. Increasingly often these days, he changed his mind at this point, initially going with the instinctive, natural option, but it would take a moment to remember that there was an alternative. You shuddered at the sliding feeling and emptiness as he pulled back out, but even though you braced yourself, the air was knocked out of you as you were flipped over, back hitting the rock -- and this time aching as the bruising flesh from the earlier fall was hit again -- now leaning your weight onto the rock on your back, facing forward. The roughness with which you were tossed about and maneuvered was, you knew, not intentional, nor out of malice, but it always left you disoriented as your vision spun a bit. And it was only a single second before you were filled again, gasping a deep breath and reaching your hands out to claw at his back as you felt yourself stretched apart all in one motion, and your legs fell into the routine position of hooking over his arms. He liked it this way. The human way, he called it, with you on your back in some form rather than on your hands and knees, facing him rather than turning away, which had been the only way you'd done it -- you supposed the only way he had been familiar with -- for a good while. You'd introduced the position once when your arms and legs were exhausted from strain, and, perhaps to your relief, it became the most common way that the routine went down. You supposed that, deep down, no matter the way in which a person was raised, there were certain innate needs and instincts that could not be overridden, woven into the very biology of a person. For humans, intimacy, the feeling of affection, and you supposed that that itch was met for him more adequately this way. And he liked to mimic normal behaviors in that regard. You recalled a time ago, back before you were brought out here for good, the wide-eyed fascination with which he'd watch passing couples of people on the road and streets, would make an attempt to imitate the same actions, albeit lacking in the same gentleness, technique, or appropriate timing. Reaching out to grab and hold your hand (with a crushing grip) as you walked, awkwardly pressing your mouths together (so firmly that your teeth clacked and your jaw hurt). That, at least, had gotten better. Now, it was somewhat gentle, he leaned down and pressed his mouth to yours. Gentle, but still very awkward, lacking in the rhythmic motions with which you'd expect, more like holding still but pressing firmly against you, but lapping a quick lick to your lips. You could taste blood on his lips and tongue, a permanent coppery taste that never went away. That didn't last long. It was hard to maintain the mouth contact when he started rutting into you, causing your body to rock in jerking motions up and down on the surface, and his face buried itself into your shoulder, panting shallow breaths that were warm against your flesh. And again, like clockwork, you knew how the issue of your body rocking back and forth, disrupting the rhythm, would be solved, and you inhaled as you braced yourself, first for the tightening grip of arms around your waist, and then-- You gasped a sharp breath despite your mental preparation as teeth sunk into your jugular, opposite the one with the injury, further locking your bodies together. He growled, a low throaty sound. Teeth gnawed at your shoulder before releasing and sinking down in a different spot, digging into the flesh just short of the force it would take to break it. You cursed whichever god thought it would be funny to give him abnormally sharp canines. Even with your weight leaning against the rock, a good portion of it was still being supported by his arms, which, with any normal human being, you would hope would cause enough strain to perhaps slow down the actual thrusting, but you knew better by now. Nor did you expect any kind of buildup or anything, no, you gritted your teeth at the immediate fast pace that dragged against your insides, raw and with little fluid to lessen the friction. The quickness and suddenness always left you sore, your internal parts not having enough time or stimulation to expand or prepare, so each thrust that slammed into the top of your insides sparked a shock of pain and pleasure sensation so strong your entire body jolted with the feeling. The bruising soreness of the recent abuse to the same spot -- how many times earlier today, three, four? -- heightened the sensitivity. And, as with the rest of the routine, you didn't expect words. You couldn't blame him -- talking was hard enough when he was focused, you imagined it was much harder when preoccupied with sensation, and with less blood in the brain. It also made sense that he didn't seem to process anything you said either -- any slow down or wait fell on deaf ears, or rather, non-comprehending ears. Eventually you, too, fell into the same state- "I-- hah, ah, w-wait, mnn-" -- unable to form words, unable to take in anything around you, pure sensation clouding your brain of any and all thoughts. You heard your own little cries ring out and echo through the empty forest, and soft, pleasured whines in your ear, hot breath from panting that grew faster and faster as the thrusts became more erratic and harder, slamming in and out, the wet, slapping sound ringing out with your own voice. It pushed against all the right spots, stretching you incomprehensibly full, overloading your brain with the feeling, and the harder your nails sank into his back, the harder his teeth bit down into your neck. The sparks of pain from the feeling felt small, distant, erased by the overwhelming good feeling created by adrenaline and pleasure, and the thought of how badly it would hurt later was the furthest thing from your mind in the moment. And because you knew words meant nothing in the heat of these moments, you had learned that announcing or warning for orgasm didn't matter. Neither of you needed words -- as with many things, you could communicate it without them just fine. He could still sense it, the way you clenched and your hands grasped at his hair and raked down his spine, and in response, the thrusting somehow grew harder and faster still. A perfect and clearly understood communication as clear as any verbal exchange. The squealing you made, the way your body spasmed and your back arched, was better than anything you could have said, really. You weren't... actually fully certain he understood the action as anything other than communication, like a message indicating "cum now." You assumed that was what it meant to him, since, as always, you felt the movement stop, panting as he pushed into your one more time, holding your hips as close as possible as you felt a twitching inside. It was always perfectly coordinated like that. The peak was always too short, always that same burst of feeling that you wished could last just a moment longer, leaving you panting. Heavy breaths in and out, shuddering, sweaty flesh clinging to each other. You could feel the arms that held your legs up shaking with aftershock, forehead falling to rest against the spot between the mounds of your chest. Then, after a moment, a nuzzle, slowly rubbing a cheek against your collarbones. As soon as that stopped, his head popped up again, looking up at your face with those same wide amber eyes, soft and somehow, despite everything, they always seemed so innocent and bright. A curious, but fairly neutral, content sort of wide-eyed gaze. Anger resolved. Sometimes you were grateful it was that easy. "Ok. You're... good, now." You understood without needing it explained. "Good" indicated something along the lines of fixed or resolved, the phrase "you're good" indicating, in this context, resolution. You assumed it had originated from listening to others in some context or another. You swallowed, and nodded. There was no point in fighting now. A sort of numbing aftershock had set in, and your head was spinning so much that even if you ran, you might fall over on your own without the inevitable tackling. It was a struggle for another day... the same conclusion this always, always resulted in, a conclusion you reached more and more quickly each time, but you tried to put the concern that thought sparked away, merely standing on trembling legs. "...Stupid hunting trap," you muttered, giving the remains of cord a kick into the leaves. He tilted his head and made a soft hm? of confusion. "Th-the trap," your voice was raspy. "They laid out traps for - for catching animals, the hunters, you know." He blinked for a moment as he processed your words, then shook his head, but smiled, beaming with pride. "Mm-nn, I made it. Put lots of them around here." You squinted, head jerking up to scan the treeline - sure enough, now that you looked closer, you could see several treetops dotted with similar nets full of scraps set to make a sound when triggered and struggled against. In fact, the more you gazed around, you realized there were easily dozens and dozens of similar traps, some of different styles and shapes, all perfectly lining the edge of the woods before the road. "...You won't catch things like that," you muttered. "It's too close to the end of the woods." Another slightly confused stare. He shook his head. "Traps are... for you." You could always count on him for two things. Undying loyalty, and obtuse honesty. You blinked at him, expression flat in blunt surprise, then, with a crooked smile, you let out a single huff of bitter, tired laughter. You were numbed to the point that you were, at the very least, able to recognize the humor of it all. Another way of coping, perhaps. It only occurred to you then, as your thoughts cleared, how relief had washed over you when the lone wolf had run out into the night, but your mind had not been focused on your own violation. You remembered your words. Run, he'll hurt you. Your only concern in that moment had been his safety. The thought set off some sort of alarm bell in your head, but the utter exhaustion made it difficult to place much concern in anything.

Your legs were trembling in aftershock, numb and heavy, but it wasn't as if that mattered. Even as you briefly put a hand to the stone beside you to lean your weight onto in an effort to stand, you knew you wouldn't be walking anyway, that wasn't part of the routine. And sure enough, as you got about halfway upward, arms wrapped around your waist instead, and you were roughly maneuvered, tossed like a ragdoll, knocking the breath out of you as you were tossed over his shoulder. "Okay, we're going home, now." He started taking a few heavy steps forward, not even struggling in the slightest to carry your full bodyweight, instead walking as if you were light as air. You didn't protest. You slumped over defeatedly, merely casting your gaze all around, trying desperately to memorize the locations of at least a few of the traps in the dark, but knowing full well in the back of your mind you'd never get past them all. No matter how you may outsmart them, you could never win. It occurred to you that, in a way, you were the one falling for the same trick over and over, continuously placing a ridiculous hope in escape and falling for your own foolishness time and time again. Perhaps that made you a bit more like the animals than you liked to admit.

#yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader

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scott-mccall-the-hot-girl · 2 years

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so here me out, teen wolf movie & it open like this:

it’s dark, like a little to dark and you can kinda assume some shit is up. you hear the sound of a chair that’s being pulled, hear a large thumping sound and one of those weird single pull light bulbs turn on.

this reveals some scraggly unimportant looking bitch, a very annoyed liam dunbar- chained to a metal wired fence ( bc it’s teen wolf & we don’t have a standards ) and the brunt end of a gun.

this gun, held my theo raeken right the the back of the head of whoever has ~captured~ liam. panning up to theo with that stupid looking smirk on his face. a click pan of him pulse checking the kidnapper, “alive.” he repeats.

a still very immobile liam nods, before taking a minute looking around and scowling, “took you long enough, fuck ass.”

“sorry i didn’t come running as fast as my little legs could take me”, he’s bent down, crackling rows of chain link tied around miscellaneous body parts of the beta, “i know as your protector i should be much more diligent with my operations, protect the dumbass mission 17 has been brilliant.”

liam snorts, “at this point i should slap some wings and a halo on you, smack you around and call you cupid.”

theo rolls his eyes, leveling them with liam, “that would just be an angel liam.”

liam flashes his eyes, “well your job as guardian angel is really shit, i take back all that is said before, because if you dont untie me right now i might actually kick you in your chimera balls so hard…”

with chaotic rambling ensuing, theo laughs, cuffs in hand, “i really don’t mind uncuffing you. then proceeding to attach your free hand to your ankle and watch you just lay there hand to foot.”

with this, and a few wolfish growls, theo unhinges his claws, twisting the lock hard enough to hear a click and then pulling with a snap. liams hand spring free and he seems to crack his knuckles. they start walking out of the building, liam latches the still comically unconscious kidnapper to the chair they are half out of.

as they exit the building which seems to mirror those of beacon hills warehouse district, they head in the direction of a forever iconic blue truck. bickering, and bumping eachother as they walk. like they do this everyday, before theo’s phone rang.

it’s quick, and his face gets serious, liam seems to notice something else hesitantly in the opposite direction. theo drops the phone.

“it was scott.”

liams sucks in a breath, “what’s happening?”

“he’s not to sure, pack meeting.”

liams eyes widen, “that sounds a lot more serious than sunday night group calls…”

nodding he replies, “that sounds like we are heading back to beacon hills.”

back sagging, you watch liam looking alert, like some police dog on the job, “they all are. they are all going back.”

“i mean i figured… scott sounded urgent but i guess when we get there-“

“no theo- i feel, i feel them getting closer.” liam grabs his shoulder, taking his hand in a downward motion, a gesture to listen.

“liam i’m not gonna hear your pack.” liam rolls his eyes, before closing them. theo, knowing that this is hovering on the line of bullshit decides to do the same, and then he hears it.

he couldn’t explain it, like distant constant heart beats getting just a bit louder, like blood rushing to his ears, like a smile tugging on his lips, like family. he thinks liam might smell the shock on him.

they start moving slowly, in a sort of awe, basking in the feeling and trying to push down the unknown.

once buckled, liam tosses a smile from the passengers seat, “gonna get out of here or what?” he teases, and theo presses on the gas, reversing in a way that feels almost nostalgic ( ifykyk ).

“let’s go home.”

#screaming crying throwing up #teen wolf #teen wolf movie #teen wolf movie headcannons #i don’t know if i like this #i didn’t edit this either whoops #thiam #theo raeken #liam dunbar #theo x liam #mccall pack #teen wolf headcannon #thiam headcannon

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sugamamacustard · 3 years

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Please don’t let me go

Pairing: Alpha! Tetsuro Kuroo x Omega! Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, NSFW

Request: HIII my favourite author!!! Happy new year 💜. Wishing you a very happy 2021. Ok sooo i got a scenario In mind. You don't have to write it if you don't want to Reader (half wolf/half omega, and if you don't write half wolf, then omega) in a pack (maybe like you know joint nekoma, fukorodani and karasuno but it's ok if you don't write that, only nekoma then in case) where their pack hasn't exactly accepted them, they're very cold with her. Reader , who has madly been in love with kuroo (cuz I'm such a kuroo lover) for very long, doesn't mind and continues to take care of everyone, making sure their ok and basically like having a soft sweet motherly attitude despite how they treat reader. But at one point reader is just fed up and feels very hurt, thinking they hate them and blames themselves. They also have to keep seeing kuroo bring in other girls for his heat and that Hurts them a lot. So reader thinks they never needed them and slowly stops contacting them. That's when everyone realises they fucked up and tried to find them but they can't. Until one day reader comes to practice and says their joining another pack and apologies for not being enough and all, how would the pack and kuroo, who loves them, stop them, apologize and make it up with them? Angst to fluff, and if you want idk if you write it but nsfw. You don't have to write it ofc! It's just a quick scenario that came to my mind. Please ignore this if you don't want to write it, and sorry if it's too specific and long 🥺

Summary: You were excited when the other packs joined yours, even finding solace in one of the alphas of one, but suddenly, you weren’t needed. Wanted. Not what he desired. And that hurt. So you do the only thing you can think of. Try to find someone who will comfort your poor omega heart.

Author’s Note: I’m your favorite 🥺 🥺 Happy new year babes! And I was reading this, and I just kept getting more and more ideas and began writing it right away Hope you enjoy!

Requests: Open!

Keep in Mind! This heavily based off of my Dragon/Shifter! AU from my mainblog! (@Angstyclowns) . The long short of it, is that Shifters have three forms. The first, is completely human. Though the person still has some attributes (Better sight, smell, hearing, etc.) they don’t have any visible features. The second form gives the shifter about half of their features. Tails, ears, wings, fangs, things like that. The third is the “full form”. This is a full dragon, wolf, cat, dog, etc.. You aren’t able to talk in this form, but you do have full control of your actions. I can go into more depth in this AU! if you all want, be sure to let me know!

Tetsuro Kuroo

➵ The Fukorodani pack was big. Huge maybe.

➵ It was made up of three different, smaller, packs that had combined for both numbers and power. Karasuno, (the namesake) Fukorodani, and Nekoma.

➵ You were originally apart of Fukorodani, only really close with Akaashi and Bokuto and had yet to get close with anyone else.

➵ You still cared for them though.

➵ You prepped meals in the morning, making enough for everyone.

➵ Made sure you always had band-aids just in case.

➵ You took the role of pack omega well.

➵ But people still seemed to hold you at an arms length.

➵ You at first brushed it off, as they were getting used to being in such a big pack, but as they got more comfortable with Bokuto and Akaashi, you began to feel this sense of unease.

➵ It was obvious they didn’t trust you, but you couldn’t quite place why.

➵ It soon got to the point where even Akaashi and Bokuto were spending less and less time with you.

➵ Your omega was hurt and you felt completely deserted.

➵ You had no idea what was happening. Did you do something wrong?

➵ You didn’t think so. You just did what you always did. Maybe you were too clingy.

➵ Too overbearing.

➵ Yeah, that was it. Right?

➵ Too much too soon.

➵ So you slowly began pulling away. You stopped making breakfast (Staying in your nest and feigning being asleep when Akaashi or Suga would come check up on you.).

➵ Stopped carrying medical supplies. Which hurt at first when Hinata or Noya would excitedly ask you for a cartoon printed band-aid, but immediately frowned when you said you didn’t have any.

➵ You just stopped...caring?

➵ You went on runs a lot more, staying out later and later and leaving earlier and earlier. There were days when no one saw you at all-- Bokuto ending up crying on those days, almost as if his alpha knew you were pulling away.

➵ He would make an effort to spend the next day with you but then the process would just repeat itself. He’d be gone with Kuroo for days, weeks on end and you were stuck alone one more time.

➵ “We always have an opening.” Daishou hummed, stretching his arms out as his forked tongue wiggled between his lips. Your tail swiped behind you as your ears fell back. “We could use a wolf like you. Strong legs, strong jaw, good looks-”

➵ “Don’t.” You sighed, wrapping your tail around your waist and wringing it gently with your hands. “I appreciate the offer, but I- I can’t. I just-”

➵ “I get it. It’s that damned cat, yeah?” The olive haired alpha smirked, playing with one of his scaled fingers. He chuckled at your red cheeks, licking his teeth all the while.

➵ It was not secret that you fell for the Pack alpha of Nekoma, Kuroo, quickly. Though Daishou (A snake shifter that you ran into during one of your all day runs) didn’t approve of the crush, he didn’t interfere with it. He respected it, in fact, encouraging it on days he felt good.

➵ You could honestly say Daishou was one of your closest friends at the moment. He always allowed you into his territory, his pack supporting and loving you all the while.

➵ He had offered to let you join his pack, in fact, but you turned him down. You were tied with Fukorodani, with Akaashi, with Bokuto. They were your family.

➵ Whether or not they saw you the same way, that was how you saw them.

➵ Your inner omega kept reminding you that Daishou was also your family.

➵ You suppose the final straw was seeing Kuroo laughing with some random Beta girl. She smelled like cheap perfume, making you reel. You merely watched as he kissed her neck, nipping her ear, quickly taking her to his room. His rut was around the corner so you knew what was going on.

➵ Didn’t mean you had to like it though.

➵ Maybe like a rebellious teenager, this kicked off that side you had been hiding.

➵ Instead of disappearing for a day every few weeks, you disappeared for days, one right after the other. You would pop in for a change of clothes, shift into your wolf and you were gone.

➵ You were strategic about it too. You made sure one person saw you enter, just to assure everyone else you were alive. You made sure they were far enough away they couldn’t catch you even if they shifted-- which most did. They tried to talk to you, just once.

➵ But you had routes made in the deep of night to get you out of sight, running through water to get rid of your scent, just doing everything to make you disappear.

➵ And slowly, but surely, Daishou and his pack began considering you their omega, just as you began forgetting about the Fukorodani pack.

➵ Everyone on the other side just got worse though. More often than not, meals were either ordered in or skipped all together. Alphas snapped on each other, Betas snarled in retaliation, omegas were hissing and closing in.

➵ While Bokuto and Akaashi were expected to be the worst of this all, they weren’t. While they growled and hissed and snapped, they didn’t snarl. They were recluse and kept away, looking for you day in and day out instead.

➵ The worst of all was Kuroo. He snarled and snapped, baring his teeth at anyone who crossed his path. That beta girl? She ran out a week ago, bleeding from her hand because Kuroo had bitten her for touching him when he told her to go away.

➵ Even Kenma had been on the receiving end of a near-close call, making everyone turn their attention to what his issue was.

➵ They only got their answer on one of the few short trips you made back. You smelled heavily like the territory next door, so much so they could smell it from your room while you were re-packing your bag.

➵ Your nest had been dismantled and one of the several blankets in there was folded and you began putting it into your bag, only for Kuroo to slam open your door.

➵ You chirped in surprise, crawling back from the seething alpha. He was angry, you could tell, and you didn’t want to get in his way.

➵ You bowed your head, quickly zipping up your bag before making your way to the window.

➵ You couldn’t deal with him right now. Not with your feelings, not with his anger. You just couldn’t.

➵ “Where the fuck are you going?” He hissed, stomping to your window and shutting it before you could crawl through.

➵ “I- I don’t- Just-”

➵ He stopped you, sniffing your neck. “You smell like him.”

➵ “Who’s him?”

➵ “That fucking snake! Who else?!” Teeth are dragged dangerously down your neck, making you shudder. “What the fuck are you doing near him?”

➵ “Dai-”

➵ “Don’t fucking say his name. Answer the question. Why were you near him?! His pack?! We are right here. We’re your pack. Not them.” He sounded close to exploding, making you whine as you withdrew.

➵ He ran a hand through his hair as he paced in front of you. “Were we not good enough? Huh? You needed another pack? WHY WEREN’T WE GOOD ENOUGH?!”

➵ You didn’t realize it, but you began shaking, slowly drawing in on yourself, trying to seem as small as possible.

➵ You didn’t want to make the alpha angry. Why was he so angry?

➵ “Tell me!” Looking up, you hiccupped as tears began streaming down your face, Kuroo having his own tears dripping down his cheeks. “Why wasn’t I good enough?”

➵ He collapsed in front of you, hands yanking on his hair.

➵ And while you were hesitant, you slowly crept closer. He was shaking his head by the time you got close enough to hear him whispering “Please don’t leave.” Making your heart and omega whine.

➵ “I-” You stopped. What was there to say? All of a sudden he wanted you here? Where was he the past however many weeks?

➵ You wanted to scream at him. Turn and leave through the window anyway.

➵ Leave this pack, and Kuroo, behind.

➵ “Don’t leave me. I don’t care about the rest of them-- maybe Kenma-- but don’t leave me. Please. I can’t handle- I can’t handle not seeing you everyday. I thought I could. I thought I could fill the void with meaningless flings, but they couldn’t even touch me before I was aching for you. “ He was sobbing now, tears dripping down his cheeks.

➵ You hesitantly wrapped an arm around his shoulder, allowing him to cry into your shoulder. He held you tightly, refusing to let you slip through his fingers as he almost had.

➵ “I-I don’t- I don’t know what you want from me anymore, Kuroo. I-I tried staying, and that didn’t work. I tried leaving, and that didn’t work either. I don’t want to leave but I can’t stay. I’m so touch starved and I can’t keep living like this!” You cried out, frustrated with all the mixed signals around you.

➵ What did your pack want from you?

➵ “We’ll fix it! I swear, I’ll fix it myself. I swear on my life. I’ll fix it. Fix myself. Make myself that alpha you deserve. Please.”

➵ You said nothing. Only allowing him to hold you close.

___NSFW___

➵ “Tetsuro!” You squealed, laughing as soft kisses were laced down your thighs.

➵ “Kitten~” He responded, suckling a hickey right near your cunt.

➵ You were wearing nothing but his sweatshirt and he was rabid seeing you, his pretty omega all nice and ready for him.

➵ And his cock.

➵ Sitting up, he pulled you onto his thighs with a swift movement, making you laugh once more.

➵ He smirked down at you once you calmed down, pressing a sweet peck to your lips, making you hum with satisfaction.

➵ His hands trailed under his shirt to rest on your hips, keeping you close to him. You seemed so ethereal, sitting in the light that filtered through the window-- oranges and reds highlighting your body.

➵ “I love you. I love you so much.” He huffed, leaning his forehead onto yours, feeling the heat of your smile against his lips.

➵ “I love you too, Tetsuro.” Another peck was pressed to his lips.

➵ His heart felt so full, having you in his arms, having you in his grasp. He just couldn’t let you go.

➵ He had almost done that once.

➵ But he would never make the same mistake again.

___

His cock dragged slowly out of your walls, sending shocks of pleasure and sensation wavering through your body as you shuddered. It wasn’t often you got to see the slow and sensual side of Tetsuro-- the one that would kiss your bond mark, the one that would tear up as he spilled praise after praise into your ear, the one that would hold a hand on your chest just to feel your thundering heartbeat only to pull your hand up to feel his own, which was just as bad--but when you did it left you just breathless as he always did. There were days when you just needed this side and he always picked up on that, but some days he needed the solace he got with it as well.

You’d always enable it, purring and whispering your own praises to him, kissing his temples when his emotions bubbled far to quickly for him to properly absorb, spilling over.

It was times like this, when his forehead rested against your shoulder, did you feel closest. His pants were hot against your already flushed skin, adding already to your sensitive body.

Running a hand through his hair, you waited for him to give you an indicator of what he wanted. What he needed from you at that very moment.

When he didn’t move it hit you. He just wanted you close. To keep you close. To remind himself you were still there. To remind himself he won the war. He won you. He finally got the queen to his kingdom. The one he wanted from the star.

And you would indulge him, running your both your hands through his hair and holding him close. Even if you pretended not to feel the happy tears falling onto your shoulder.

____

Soft sex Kuroo had me 🥺 🥺

#alpha/beta/omega #alpha/beta/omega AU #alpha/beta/omega verse #haikyuu!!#a/b/o haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu #alpha kuroo #alpha kuroo tetsuro #kuroo x reader #alpha kuroo tetsuro x omega reader #alpha kuroo x omega reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #custard writes #Kuroo likes soft sex #no i don't take criticism

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andreafmn · 3 years

Text

I’m Not Afraid - Chapter 4

Word Count: 3,616

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 4/?

A/N: If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 4

After the eventful day yesterday, I could say that today was extremely boring. For some unknown reason, Stiles and Jackson had not shown up to school. But, after what happened I would have missed too, but I left my bike here and I needed to get it back. I wasn’t planning on staying longer than needed. Once the day was over and the clock hit three, I sped off to my house. I was still tired from yesterday and all I wanted to do was take a big long nap. My body felt heavy, and my head hurt like hell.

But once I got home, I knew that I wouldn't be sleeping like I wanted to.

"What are you doing here, Derek?" I asked as I took off my helmet.

"We need to talk."

"No, we don't. There's nothing to talk about."

"(Y/N), please. You have been avoiding me for almost two weeks now. I need to know why." He sounded desperate.

"And I want to know how many licks it takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop. Guess we won't be getting any answers today." I tried to walk to the door, but he grabbed my arm. "Let. Me. Go."

"Please, just talk to me. Give me a reason." His stare burned a hole in me. "Please."

"Seriously, Derek. Just leave me alone." He finally let me go, my arm feeling cold missing his touch.

"I won't stop until you talk to me and explain."

"Then get comfortable, sour wolf, you'll be waiting a long time." I entered the house and locked the door, finally letting out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

I changed into comfortable clothing and started cleaning the house. My parents would be here tomorrow, and I wanted to make sure the house was spotless. Truly, I just needed something to take my mind off Derek. Why did he make me feel this way? Yesterday the only thing I was wondering was why HE was there. And I didn't want to think that way. I didn't want to care about him. Not now, not ever.

After I finished cleaning, I found myself with nothing to do, so I ran upstairs and took a shower. I tried to take all the time in the world but there wasn't enough. I got out and went to bed thinking of the events of yesterday.

I was running through the forest and I felt someone chasing me. No matter how fast I ran, the creature ran faster. Before I knew it my body had collided with the floor and towering above me was the thing that had screeched last night. It looked lost, like it needed to find his purpose. His slit eyes stared down onto mine and his sharp teeth expelled a sort of saliva that trickled down to my face. His tail was moving up and down my legs teasing a cut. I wanted to move but I knew if I did it would try to kill me, so I stayed put. I closed my eyes and awaited what would happen but instead of death, a roar sounded. Startled, the creature screeched, and I screamed back.

I woke up screaming and sweating just 5 minutes before my alarm would make a sound. I got out of my bed and went to take a shower to relieve me from the dream I just had. It sounded just like the screech from two nights ago. My body felt cold, and I had goosebumps everywhere. To calm my nerves, I put the water in a hot temperature and let it ease my muscles and relax my body. I would have maybe called Isaac but, after knowing he's somewhat involved with whatever is going on and him being a douchebag the last few days, I didn't even bother looking up his contact. Maybe it was for the best. After the year ended I could cut ties without any remorse.

Once I was done with my shower I changed into comfortable clothes once again and ran down the stairs. For more than an hour I was enjoying a horror movie on TV when I heard the doorknob rattle.

"Mom! Dad!" I ran and jumped on both.

"Hey, munchkin." My dad ruffled my hair and hugged me.

"Hey, darling. How did your week go?" My mom asked. How could I explain to her something I didn't know?

"Pretty uneventful. Just hanging out around the house, organizing my room and stuff. But, enough about me. Come in, settle down, tell me about your week."

"Honey, why don't you go sit down, we need to talk about something." I looked at my mom weirdly and went to the kitchen to sit down.

"What's going on?" I looked at my parents who were fixing up dinner.

"Munchkin, you know how each year we have to move due to my business. Well, this year is gonna be different."

"We're not moving. Dad, you've said that before. How do I know you're not lying again?"

"We took this week kind of on a trial basis. You’re getting older and can handle bigger responsibilities like taking care of yourself and the house by yourself. So, it seems that we can be away for elongated periods of time and you’ll be just fine. And in any case, your uncle is here to take care of you."

"We will be living here in Beacon Hills and any business that needs to be taken care of we will just leave town for a few days. Are you okay with that?" My mother smiled.

"Okay?! I'm beyond okay!" I jumped up from the stool and hugged my parents. "This is the best news ever!"

"That's great, honey. Now go do something while I start dinner."

When my parents told me the news that we were staying the first person that came to mind was Derek.

I had been avoiding him for such a long time and he did deserve some answers and maybe I could get some from him about what was going on in this freak show of a town. I decided to text him and told him to meet me at his house in the woods. I awaited his answer and rode my bike down the now familiar trail. And just as he had said, there he was, waiting on the front steps of the house.

"Hey, Derek," I said softly. It was hard to swallow my pride after the way I had been acting.

"Hey, (Y/N). Are you finally ready to talk?" He said in a calm and soothing voice. Absolutely the opposite of what I was expecting. I nodded my head and sat down next to him. "So, why have you been avoiding me? Is it something I did?"

"No. I just had to."

"You had to?"

"Look, all my life I have had to pack everything up and leave behind a whole life. Every time the year ends, I need to forget about one life and start another. I have ignored so many people that have only been nice to me because I don't want to grow attached. Cause when I leave, I know I will never see them again and I'd rather be alone than have to pass through that heartache."

"So, once we started growing close you had to cut ties so you could forget about me." I nodded and he let out a sigh. "I get it. But you could've told me."

"Yeah? How? Hey, I'm gonna start to forget you now so I don't have to later. Wouldn't be too sensitive, would it?"

"No, but I would have understood." He looked at me. His eyes held kindness and understandings, things I didn’t deserve for my actions. "But why are you telling me now?"

"My parents told me that we're not leaving this time. We're here for good."

"So that means you'll stop ignoring me?"

"Yes." He smiled and gave me a hug. I hugged him back. "Now that I have given you answers, I need some in return."

"Like?"

"What the hell happened on Thursday?"

"Oh. That." He paused for a second and groaned, but I motioned him to answer me. "Of course. But what I tell you right now must stay between us, and you must give me your word that no one will know that I was the one who told you. Not Scott or Allison, not even your parents."

"Is it that important?"

"Absolutely. Look what's happening here, it's not normal nor human."

"What are you talking about, Derek?" I chuckled.

"Everything around you are not what it seems. There's just no easy way to say this."

"Derek, ballpark it."

"I'm a werewolf, an alpha. And so is Scott, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd, they're betas. Your family, including Allison, are hunters. They kill people like me and the others. That screech you heard yesterday, it came from a Kanima. A walking snake-like creature that kills people, murderers exactly, after paralyzing them with a type of venom it creates." He looked into my eyes trying to search for something. An answer, a sign, anything. It just wasn't there. "(Y/N), please. Say something."

I tried to speak up, but nothing came out. Maybe it was the shock, maybe I wasn't ready to hear this, maybe I didn't want to know that everyone around me was different. Out of this world, sort to speak. Everything was changing and I couldn't do anything about it. I saw Stiles' jeep coming closer. Out of it came Scott, Allison, and, obviously, Stiles. I got up from the steps, ignoring their calls and Derek calling my name.

"Where are you going, (Y/N)?"

"Home." I turned on the motorcycle and tried to leave but I couldn't. I was frozen, listening to their conversation.

Derek's POV "What's happening?" Stiles asked.

"She's leaving, dimwit. Don't you have eyes?"

"Why would she leave like that?" Allison questioned and directed her sight to me. "What did you do?"

"Nothing. We were just talking."

"What exactly where you guys talking about?" Scott asked.

"Everything."

"As in." I stared at him and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, everything."

"Derek, why the hell would you do that?! It was not in your place to tell her about that."

"Oh, like you would have told her anything. Just like you're telling Lydia. She came to me for answers, and I gave them to her."

"That is none of your business."

"I was not going to continue to lie to her. You do whatever the hell you want but I couldn't go on like that."

"Honestly, Derek. What is your problem?! She's nothing to you so I don't understand why you had to bring her into this twisted world." Allison screamed.

"You know why she has to know. I accept that it's not my place, but I knew you wouldn't say anything and, also, I didn't bring her into this. Your bloodline did. Don't pin this on me." Allison starts fuming and closing the gap between us but stops dead in her tracks when she heard the same thing all of us heard. (Y/N) falling off her bike.

"(Y/N)!!" I ran towards her and picked her up.

"Don't touch her!" Allison screamed.

"You can't tell me what to do." I bumped our shoulders and headed towards the house. "But if you wanna help out you can follow me."

Fuming, Allison followed me into the living room with the trail of puppies on her back. She helped me gently lay down (Y/N) on the couch whilst Scott found some gauze and alcohol for a scratch on her face and hopefully what would wake her.

After cleaning the wound, I held a gauze dripping with alcohol under her nose, but nothing happened.

"This is what I wanted to avoid. She seems so strong, but she is so fragile too. I wanted her to find this all out through her parents. Not some stranger she just met." Allison spoke to Scott.

"I think you underestimate the strength she has. And trust me, I am no stranger to her." I spat at her. "At least I was the only one brave enough to give her the answers she was seeking."

"Derek, honestly I could give two shits about what you think right now. It's your fault she fainted. Again, you had no fucking right."

"Look, Allison, I get it. You don't want her in this world because she's better than you. I get it." I smirked at her and she lunged at me. Scott held her back but I wanted the reaction. I was completely fuming, (Y/N) deserved better than lies.

As she struggled, Stiles’s words brought us back from the fight.

"Guys, she's waking up."

I directed my gaze again to (Y/N) and noticed her eyes fluttering open. "See, she's fine."

"But she wasn't."

"Well, she is now." I gritted my teeth.

(Y/N)'s POV

"Um, guys, yeah. I'm still here stop talking about me as if I were gone."

"Are you okay? How are you feeling?" Allison asked as if I had hurt myself.

"I'm fine. My body is functioning normally, my legs are moving one after the other, my lips are opening and closing, and my tongue is moving, and my arms are flailing. I'm super."

"Take it easy, (Y/N). You just found out a lot of stuff." Scott said.

"Yeah, you two are werewolves." I pointed at him and at Derek, then at Allison. "And you, along with our family, a hunter." I looked at Stiles. "And you're human, like me."

"And?" Derek asked in a harsh tone as if trying to keep up the mean façade he had. It made me angry, but the worry was evident in his eyes.

"It's fine. It's weird but fine." This time I did get on my motorcycle and started it.

"Whoa, where do you think you're going?" Stiles tried to stop me midway.

"Um, as I said before, home."

"You can't drive in this state, especially in a motorcycle. You could crash!"

"Allison, I have never in my life of driving crashed a motorcycle whereas cars, enough to start a small dealership, and some of them weren't even mine. I think I'm good." As I tried to leave, once again I was stopped. This time by Derek.

"I'll take you home."

"Um, you've done enough. I'll take her home." Allison stepped in. They got in each other's faces and I had to step in between them.

"Mom, dad. Stop. I hate when you fight." I snorted. "Sorry, but I'll take myself home."

Before any of them could answer I got on my motorcycle and sped off the same way I came through. When I got home, I was out of breath and dizzy. Everything Derek had said kept replaying in my mind over and over, like an endless loop of unimaginable words that seemed to be part of a dream. The front door of my house seemed so far, and it felt like almost half an hour had passed until I got there. Everything passed by slowly and blurry.

My father called out to me and it felt like I answered but I had no idea what I said. Maybe something in the lines of I'm tired, I'm gonna go to bed. I ascended the stairs one step at a time until I reached the top. It felt like climbing the Great Wall of China, but finally, I made it to my bedroom. Once I entered, I got the scare of my life and everything went back to normal. Derek was in my room.

"What the hell are you doing here, Derek?!" I yelled in a soft whisper.

"I wanted to see if you were really okay. You didn't seem good when you left."

"I'm fine," I said in a cold voice and started looking for my pajamas. He wasn't believing me, and neither was I. "Seriously, Derek. I am."

"You don't seem or sound fine. I heard you when you got here, you were out of breath and you took your time to get up the stairs as if it was the biggest climb of your life." It was evident that he was worried about me but there was nothing to worry about. I may still be in a bit of shock. He just needed to chill. Deep down I knew how scared I was. The world had turned into different stop frames. I could see everything pass me by inch by inch. I had time for everything. I could easily have gone to the other side of the planet and back and not more than a minute could have passed.

I went to the bathroom and changed in hopes that he would leave, even though I didn’t want him to. He didn't. He looked around my book collection which, I may add, is quite big. My father had some people make a built-in bookcase and desk. It was probably my favorite place in the whole house, the kitchen ended second. Derek had taken one of my favorite books in his hand.

"Pride and Prejudice? Hm, never would have pictured you to read this kind of book."

"There's many things you don't know about me, sour wolf."

"Seriously, you're gonna keep calling me that? Even after you know it's true."

"That makes it more fun." I smiled weakly. "So, werewolf, huh?" He nodded. "And my family is filled with hunters." He nodded again. "And they hunt you."

"(Y/N), if this is too much for you, we can leave you out of it."

"It doesn't matter if you leave me out of it, I'll still be involved. I just don't want anything to change."

"I know. Me either." He said looking down. I walked over to him and hugged him needing some type of warmth. His arms engulfed me, and I felt relieved, completely forgetting how mad I was at him for being a dick not a few hours ago.

"It's just for the first time in my life I thought I cloud have a normal life with my family and new friends. I hoped to settle in a normal town where it's so boring, but you fall in love with the people there and never want to leave. I guess I just wanted normal."

"And I just ruined that." He sighed, his chest rising and falling against my head. "I'm sorry."

"Don't blame yourself. My parents would have brought me into that world soon enough. I think that's why they've had me working out and training for no apparent reason. They were hoping I would join the family business."

"Would you?"

"Huh?" I looked up at him.

"If they asked you to become a hunter, would you?"

"If I hadn't met Isaac, or your pack, or Scott... or you, I probably would have. But I can't be a part of something that hunts innocent creatures just because they believe the whole species is bad." He nodded but stayed quiet.

I went over to my bed in hopes he would stay but he made his way to the window. I don't know what came over me, but I called out to him. "Don't go. Stay, please."

Without another word he turned off the lights and sat next on the chair that was in the corner next to my bed. Finally, I drifted off with the possibility of words flowing from his mouth.

Derek's POV

"I'll never leave you." I whispered to her as she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep. After some time, she started squirming and her heartbeat began to race. I sat next to her, and without waking up, she got closer and snuggled into my chest. I put an arm around her and heard her heartbeat slowly go back to normal.

At around midnight I heard voices arguing downstairs. I didn't mean to overhear but I couldn't help it.

"You went looking for her again, didn't you, Henry?"

"Of course, I did. I'll look for her until the day I die."

"You know you'll never find her. That was the point. You told her to hide, and she did. So much that not even you can find her. I guess she didn't love you enough." She sighed. "And even if you found her, your father would use all his power to kill her."

"At least I loved her more than I'll ever love you, and that's enough for me."

After that, a long silence.

Then, a door slammed shut.

Moments after I heard footsteps coming up the stairs.I tried my best to move in case they decided to check in with her, but (Y/N)’s grip on me only tightened. I had no escape other than to brace myself for whatever could happen.

My heart started to race faster and faster as the steps became closer to the room.

Step.

Her mother was right outside her door, probably debating waking her daughter up to wish her a good night. My breath hitched in my throat when the door handle started to softly turn; the gears in my brain turning, looking for the quickest escape. The door handle had turned completely and I prepared myself to run. But, it was let go. The footsteps receded and ended in the room next to (Y/N)’s. Once I heard her settle in bed I finally relaxed. I curled (Y/N) onto me and wrapped her tight. Something in me just wanted to protect her and let her know she’s not alone. I hadn’t felt this way in a long time and for the first time I wanted to see where it could lead.

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falcor-thee-luck-dragon · 3 years

Note

Hi hi! I saw your post asking for request/inspiration! Maybe Geralt x fem reader, and geralt has to hunt down a monster but the reader as well, so first they try to outsmart the other but eventually they realize they have to work together and they end up falling for each other? ❤️❤️

Bound By Blood - Geralt of Rivia x (f)reader - Part 1

side note- I have no self control and just kept writing so we’re gonna have a pt. 2 soon

Summary: Geralt has learned of a mysterious witch and her supposed vicious familiar, now he must hunt to bring them down for their crimes.

Warning: blood & gore, angst, bit o fluff, some smut sprinkled in the mix

It had been a good couple of weeks since his last kill, or since he had a solid amount of coin that could pay for food and board. So like any Witcher with a freshly sharpened sword and a thirst for coin with a little adventure included, Geralt was on the move, in search of his next monster to slay.

Though by the looks of it, the continent is starting to feel like a much larger place then he remembered, or perhaps he’s out in the wilds a bit further then once previously thought. Either way, the day is bright and the woods are green, although the occasional snowflake floating into his hair and Roach’s for that matter may become an annoyance later on. Guess he’ll just have to see where the road takes him this time.

No sooner would his swimming thoughts of wondrous curiosity be answered after a couple hours of traveling through the now very snow covered forest, where he would happen upon a small gathering of road worn travelers. All of whom appeared to be speaking over a small fire, their horses tied off close by. And most likely, weapons hidden at the ready for odd folk like himself.

Roach’s hooves are almost silent against the powdery white fluff as Geralt makes his way into view of this pack of loyal companions trying to have a meal in the midst of their camp before nightfall. Soon their eyes find Roach and himself, these strangers look on in cautious apprehension, wary and uncertain of what this Witcher’s true intentions are.

Suddenly a young foxy looking boy stands, his thick auburn hair falling in his face as he points a shaky steel knife in the air, “What business you have? We don’t want a fight.” Speaks the boy as confidently as he can muster, though there is a small waver in his voice. The others wait for an answer.

Geralt blinks, face unassuming and as relatively non-threatening as possible, “I’m just passing through, I’m trying to see what beast needs killed over the next hill.”

The boy lowers his knife, “Oh...well, good luck to you then. There’s been a great bear said to be hunting for Nilfgaard soldiers over that way, that’s why we’re headed west instead.”

Before Geralt is able to respond an older woman with a wolf rug over her back steps next to the boy protectively, “Best keep a move on Witcher,” She warns, eyeing him up suspiciously with her pale grey eyes, “said a woman with...unnatural powers commands the beast to kill for her. A witch of the wood it’s said, but that old bastard she has, been killing villagers and travelers alike who venture too far from town.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Mutters Geralt before directing Roach to continue onward with a click of his tongue.

——

They had never seen you coming, and now they’re paying for their lack of scouting with their pathetic little lives. The soldiers of Nilfgaard were said to be the most deadly and dangerous, men who came with fire in their hearts and steel in their hands. They feared nothing and no one, dressed in black armor and growing in numbers from the south everyday was enough to make you feel sick.

They had no right nor proper business claiming and desecrating what wasn’t there’s, how dare they hurt innocent people, they acted like true barbarians. And you would not put up with it any longer, they had burned your home, murdered your mother, and destroyed the rest of your village.

So for their crimes, you decided it was time to do what was necessary for the continents future survival, it was time to hunt. For months have you and your furry companion been here and there eradicating soldier camp after soldier camp with great satisfaction, now finally at long last have you tracked down a group of Nilfgaardians who’ve strayed too far from the main hoard. How unfortunate.

You had waited patiently to ambush them on the main road where they’d been trekking down for the past day and a half, it was too damn easy, all you did was pretend to be a hurt scared maiden in the woods. Then when they attempted to comfort you, your bear burst forth from the underbrush and slaughtered a handful before they even knew what hit them.

Now here you stand, boots in the spattered snow as you look around the blood stained white blanket of earth where a multitude of soldiers lay dead and mutilated. Though one remains with air still in his lungs, you smirk a wicked grin, eyeing up the fallen soldier as he stares wide eyed up at you from his broken body against a tree stump.

Your furry accomplice breaths heavy mountainous breaths close by, though he’s aware enough to know you’ll take care of the last one. And the terrified soldier knows it too as you take more steps closer. He flinches as you crouch down to meet his blood spattered face, “Nu-no, no...do-don’t...”

“Shhh.” You smile, raising a finger to his lips, silencing him instantly.

He’s shaking now, eyes like a young fearful child’s as he studies your beautiful yet frightening appearance. “I thought all Nilfgaardian soldiers feared nothing, not even death. What a disappointment you all are.”

“We will...ta-take it....a-all...” He whimpers out as you throw him a harsh glare that shuts his bloody mouth.

“Just like I have taken your brothers lives,” You whisper with a sly grin before casually shrugging, “an eye for an eye they say....so don’t be afraid, I have felt the same as you do right now. Helpless, terrified, in pain....but listen...” You look sincerely into his broken gaze, a small smile upon your lips as you rest a comforting hand over his arm, though he knows its anything but comfort. “Nilfgaard and all her subjects can burn in the fiery pits of the underworld for what they’ve chosen to do in these lands. I was on the wrong side of the sword once, now you are, and no magical bear is going to come save you.” Your words are as deadly as poison, like a cobra spitting venom to their prey before the final strike.

His eyes go wide, blood seeping down his cracked lips, “No. No..n-no no! No!” Suddenly you thrust your dagger right through his jugular and right back out again causing a spurt of blood to mark your cheek, standing back you watch as he gasps and sputters, choking on his own blood as it gushes out of him like a waterfall.

“He even dies like a bitch.” You mutter in disgust, cleaning off your sword with your arm before sheathing it once again, now looking over to the beast standing in the snow. Heavy white clouds of hot breath pierce the crisp air as he watches your every move in interest, “Come. Let’s get away from here before someone sees us, we don’t need anymore bloodshed today. Now these fuckers are food for crows.”

The bear growls in agreeance, trailing after you as some hungry black ravens caw from the trees in excitement for their new free meal. No village will burn today.

——

“Oh yes, I saw her command the bear to kill those soldiers just three days ago!”

“That beast took my son last week, kill them Witcher!”

“I’m afraid to visit my cousins in the next town over! You must kill them!”

That had been the comments and ramblings of the townsfolk of the local tavern when he asked who and where this witch and her bear was. Though he didn’t get much of a solid answer by any means, not until an old hunter had eventually directed him to where the most recent cluster of Nilfgaard soldiers had headed.

Stating that if Geralt follows their route, then he would most likely come upon the men’s remains somewhere along the road, and if he was lucky, he’d run into the two killers as well.

Indeed it had taken him about a day or so, but eventually the farther down the trail he got, the fresher the tracks became. Suddenly during his journey did he pass a rider-less horse on its way back towards town, a dark brown smear of some kind splattered across its grey leg. Now this looked quite promising.

Only a small trot up the road did he finally find the brutal remains of the soldiers that had most definitely not made it to wherever they had planned on heading. The snow in particular was disturbed and littered with chunks of men, swords thrown about and shields bent and broken. He could smell blood and piss from the men, most of all he could smell bear and what it had done here, though it was strange too. For a sweeter scent could be recognized on the cool wintery breeze, such a viable contrast to the current state of the environment.

She still lingers close, thinks the Witcher. Quickly moving to pull out his silver sword from within its sheath. Sensing a new presence among the fallen, he whips around in a dark blur only to be greeted face to face with a beautiful woman.

He stood his ground eyeing your form suspiciously like a lion wondering if his prey will be easy enough to kill, though he wasn’t certain if he truly wanted to kill you at all. You looked rather unassuming and calm, less monsterly and more a simple traveling woman then anything else, such unlike the grisly tall tales that those travelers and townsfolk had gossiped to him about.

Honestly Geralt was beginning to doubt what he had been given coin for, but he would not submit to that thought just yet, he has faced creatures just as alluring as you and found them quite deadly enough.

Keeping his silver placed firmly at his side, though still tightly grasped in his strong hand, his golden eyes trail over you cautiously, “You do this?” He wonders, coming out more of an accusatory statement as he glances at the bloody array of dead Nilfgaardian soldiers gutted about on the soft white snow.

Your breaths are steady though you feel more annoyed by his random intrusion then anything else, you only came back here to take their weapons to give to the villagers, “I have no quarrel with you, Witcher.” Your voice is truthful and fierce, not an ounce of nervousness radiating off of your tongue. As far as you’re concerned this man is nothing but an inconvenience.

He keeps a stoic face, not revealing much but a tinge of amusement in his shimmering eyes, “Strange then. I’ve been given coin to kill a dangerous sorceress and her enchanted bear. Fitting your description exactly, and here we are. Among the dead soldiers you’ve been claimed to murder.”

Scoffing you curtly fold your arms over your chest, “I hardly see a problem here when these fuckers have slaughtered countless innocents! They’re marching for the north and I do not doubt they’ll get it if people like me don’t try and lessen their numbers.”

He looks to the ground then back up to you, letting out a low frustrated sigh, “Your beast has killed villagers. Innocents.” His words are almost a slap in the face, but you know those people only got in the way of taking down these soldiers.

“Yes.” You nod, watching as he studies your face, “And it is a tragedy that I am greatly sorry for...but my companion is still an animal with his own will even when I give him a task. A bear is a bear, Witcher.”

He hums, “I understand that. But I cannot let you kill anyone else.”

Taking a single step back you quickly unfold your arms, alerting the Witcher to raise his sword though you show no intention of fighting him. His grey brows furrow as you shake your head, “You’re better off leaving us be. Those soldiers deserved what they got coming to them, and the people of this continent will thank us in due time. For they do not know the wrath and ruin that Nilfgaard is capable of.”

He watches as you take a couple more steps backwards towards the pine trees, your face serious and unflinching even when he takes a few steps towards you. “I kill monsters, witch. You’re no different.”

Now this does anger you, for that your eyes almost appear to darken with rage, your posture taller as you stare him down, “You are nothing but a blind fool who cannot see the bigger picture! So I won’t feel very bad about this..”

“About what?”

He watches as you take a step to the side, ignoring him when suddenly without warning does a ginormous brown bear charge from out of the evergreens, teeth and claws at the ready as they swing for his throat.

Geralt just barely dodges the huge furry bastard when a blundering paw races down for his arm, he twists away and out of the bears reach though his sword does catch the thick black pad of the bears left paw. It roars in pain, face a mask of rage as it turns towards Geralt with lighting reflexes.

Suddenly the bear swings a heavy paw directly into Geralt’s leather armored chest, knocking the wind out of him while also managing to thrust him blindly into a thick oak tree. All that the Witcher can glimpse before slipping into blissful unconsciousness is the wounded beast retreating into the woods while your silhouetted form begins walking towards him.

Then darkness.

——

When Geralt comes to he’s distressed to find his armor gone and his torso bare except for a thick white bandage wrapped around his shoulder and chest where the bear swatted at him with its large paw. The fabric is oddly soft, though a slight pink uneven line has seeped out now visible across his breasts, no doubt the area where that bear had gotten him.

His big golden irises blink hard, focusing better now to unexpectedly find your smirking face as you walk into view, “Have a pleasant rest?” You muse, sitting down in a soft cushioned chair at his bedside, “My old friend gave you a run for your coin huh?”

Well this is odd, he thinks.

His brows furrow even deeper, though his chest hurts too much to attempt an escape, “I would have imagined you were going to kill me. I don’t understand...”

Chuckling lightly you smile, “Remember Witcher, I have no quarrel with you. Just those fucking soldiers....and don’t worry, my companion will not bring you any more harm unless I see to it.”

“Well...uh...I guess that’s good then.” Mutters the Witcher, begrudgingly scooting himself up so that he may rest against the wooden headboard and have a better view of the small room, “Where exactly are we?”

Looking around the cozy cabin you’ve decided to inhabit for the time being, your eyes finally rest back on the curious silver haired man, “Somewhere that was once vacant and now is livable. That is all I will say, and all that matters to you now....so, my pursuer who’d see me dead if not for my cleverness. If you are going to be in my care for however long it takes you to heal, what is your name?” You watch as the Witcher purses his lips together, pausing for a moment to think if he should tell you, “Geralt. Geralt of Rivia.” He reveals in that titular gruff voice of his that’s honestly starting to grow on you even in the brief time you’ve known him.

Handing him a small smile of acknowledgement, you nod, “And I am Y/N of Stygga in the land of Ebbing which is north of Nilfgaard...so, Geralt of Rivia....what brings you to Thurn of all places and into my care? Besides the fact that my companion almost ended your pretty life.” You end with a wiggle of your brow.

“Coin.” He mutters humorously, so he is not just a man of silent beautifully chiseled stone after all.

You hum, “Simple and straight to the point, are all Witcher’s as intriguing as you are?”

Geralt blinks slowly, deciding to rest his head against the wood as he looks forward, “Perhaps only the ones who want to survive.”

Laughing you lean back in your seat, “Flattery and humor may yet keep you alive then. But you are mistaken with me, I do not intend to keep you as a prisoner in any way if that’s what you are meaning. You are free to go back to wherever you came from or to wherever you’re going....as I said, I have no quarrel with you. Witcher.” You speak his name with a bit of attitude considering he did originally come to kill you, nonetheless you quite enjoy his presence.

The look he gives you is enough to make you chuckle once more, then his eyes glance back to you, causing your laughter to die down, though he’s surprised that your smile has prevailed. “Then why have you kept me alive when you could have ended me just as quickly?” He wonders.

You shrug, “The world is scarce of such creatures like yourself, Witcher’s hmm...monster hunters. Others will need you, and this world is big after all and full of terrible things.” You add, hugging your cloak tighter as you tilt your head at him, “so I’d assume after you heal up you’ll leave me and my companion be as long as I agree to keep away from towns. Yes.”

“Hmm.” He utters, brows furrowed as he thinks over your offer.

The Witcher keeps silent as his face shifts into deep thought, huffing you roll your eyes, “Geralt are free to leave if you so choose. I give you my word if you give me yours.”

“Which is?”

“You let me and my familiar leave in peace and we let you live.”

He studies your face for a moment, trying to find any signs of falseness though he fails to spot it, “Fine.” Grumbles the handsome silver haired man.

You smile in accomplishment before a slightly awkward silence fills the room, deciding to break the tension you tap the arm of your chair, “Are you going to leave then? Right now?”

He keeps silent for some time as you patiently await his answer until finally he looks into your eyes, “No.”

“Huh.” You slowly nod, not quite expecting that answer, “...are you thirsty then? You were out for some time.”

“Yes.” Answers Geralt, simple and straight to the point.

Smiling you nod, standing now to fetch your new friend some water from outside, once you return with a metal cup do you hand him the cold liquid, his warm hand just barley touching yours. Sending shivers down your spine that you didn’t know was possible as you go back to sit next to him. “Those wounds should heal soon enough, I’ve heard Witcher’s heal fast. Is there any truth to that?”

His golden eyes trail over to you, not a hint of annoyance in the way that he looks to you now, “It would seem so. Hopefully I never have another run in with your friend anytime soon. Though I wouldn’t mind running into you again, hopefully under less bloody circumstances.” Admits Geralt with the ghost of a smile.

You chuckle, “As would I.”

——

In the following days would you and Geralt find comfort in one another’s presence as you helped him heal from his wounds. This Witcher had told you numerous stories about his adventures all over the continent and what beasts have been slain by his hand and sharp silver.

They were undoubtedly fascinating though surprisingly full of such vigor and even respect for the ones he’s been given coin to kill. It was pleasant when he spoke of all those who he had prevented from meeting an untimely and violent end from said monsters.

Even more so bewildering to you was how invested and intrigued you had become with each passing day, you actually woke up excited to see someone, to hear their voice and have them ask how your morning was.

Unbeknownst to you, Geralt had healed two days ago but had come to the fascinating conclusion that he was in-fact enjoying your company more then first realized. He loves listening to you boast about all the clever tricks you’ve pulled on the Nilfgaardians and how you’ve kept them away from the villagers who would most like want nothing to do with them.

Maybe it is the palpable truth that he has been indeed a bit lonely, or maybe it’s just that you tell the best stories and are unlike anyone he’s ever met before. But Geralt has begun to grow a deep fondness for you that cannot be fully explained by himself no matter how hard he may try.

Though at first he found you beautiful enough, that wasn’t a large concern considering he was there to kill you. Then once all was revealed he decided you really aren’t as evil and malevolent as what was spoken to him by the townsfolk.

Now, he has seen you, heard your voice and been given a kindness that he knows is something he shouldn’t deserve. But he cannot fully know if you share the same growing feelings, why would you? He came to kill, he came to end your beautiful life and for what, gold? No, you mean something now, you are someone to him now, a person that he can’t help but care for. And maybe even love, that is if he knew what that truly felt like, is this it?

But what of you?

You’d be a filthy liar if you said this Witcher didn’t tug at your heart strings like he does so freely without even knowing it. He has wonderfully taken you off guard with his hidden tenderness and rough voice that you’ve decided is one of the most alluring sounds you’ve ever heard.

His eyes catch in the light like two shimmering golden coins, the way he asks you for a drink or a piece of bread sends electricity through you. How pathetic, you think, however it is rather nice. And most of all, his body is truly something else, you’ve never seen a man so toned and full of scars. How lucky you were to take his shirt off and keep his wounds from bleeding out, and in those hours after, he looked rather peaceful as he slept.

If only you could have joined him, felt his touch, been the one who he wanted more then the bread you’ve given him. But he is just a Witcher, he will leave and life will presume as it had been before either of you had met. He’ll become just another lost tragedy of your past, another loved one gone, never to be seen again.

He is just a Witcher you fool.

You frown now, your gaze focused on the small hearth as you sit by the fire, poking it with a metal stick as your thoughts drift to better days long gone, taken so suddenly and without so much as a sorry from who did it.

“Y/N.”

Your eyes stare vacantly into the beautifully glowing embers, you hear nothing but the sparks of flame crackling on wood.

“Y/N.”

A whisper perhaps, you can’t tell, you’re so lost into your own head at this point nothing but the fire matters to you.

Without warning a gentle hand is placed on your shoulder causing you to jump and drop the metal stick onto the stone fireplace with a loud clatter. Your eyes dart for the one who touches you as your heart beats heavily inside your chest.

Instead of a petty thief come to slay you, is the soft comforting eyes of Geralt, “Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Apologizes the Witcher as he sits down next to you, offering half of his huge warm blanket.

You oblige without a second thought and let him drape it over your back while he then scoots closer so that your crossed knee is touching his. You give him the flash of a sad smile before drifting your dreary gaze back to the glowing hearth.

“Thank you for sharing, winter is cold after all and this cabin isn’t the most insulated of places.” You add, a low drone in your voice much unlike your usual lively self that he’s grown to love.

Furrowing his grey brows, Geralt studies your half illuminated face in the firelight, the only real source of light since the sun has gone down hours ago. “I figured you needed the company, and a blanket. I can almost of see my breath.” He says with a small chuckle though you barley acknowledge his very presence.

“Y/N?” He whispers, nudging your leg with his, “I haven’t spoken of it before but if I may ask, what happened to your hand?”

You look down to your left hand opposite of where Geralt is sitting, you hide it from the light though it is covered with a white cloth and your long sleeves. He is very observant isn’t he?

“Nothing important. I got it when fighting those damn soldiers before I saw you. It’s almost all healed up.” You whisper, “No need to think about it anymore.”

The room stays silent for another couple minutes before he finally speaks once again in that low gruff voice of his, “What troubles you?” He asks much to your surprise, maybe he is too observant for his own good.

“Many things.” You mutter quietly, turning your face to find his concerned gaze, a small smile on your lips to lessen his doubts, “Don’t worry my dear Witcher, you’re not one of them. And I’d rather not give you my burdens, they are not a fun little adventure like the ones you’ve told me about.”

“Neither are all of mine.” He speaks truthfully, staring deep into your saddened eyes, “I would be honored to comfort you of such miseries if you still want me near after.”

You look to the floor, biting your lip at this almost intimate news even if he only means to speak words of ease to you. Why not? What is there to lose if you tell him why you feel so full of melancholy.

Raising your eyes back up to his, you take a deep heavy sigh before looking back into the fire, “I had a good life. I really did, I had a mother and a brother. But that was all taken from me when those bastards plundered and beat their way into my peoples lands. Looting and killing as they went, what could I do huh...my family was in their way.” You admit with a hidden rage that just about causes the flames to glow brighter.

“They came into our village and began to burn everything they could, they ran into houses and stole away valuables untouched by the desolation yet. They took and killed my neighbors and friends, women and children, screaming infants.”

You pause for a moment, eyes welled up with unshed tears as you find your voice, “They burst through our door and pulled us three from our house before we could even react. Then those fuckers killed the only person who ever showed me true kindness and love, she didn’t deserve to die that way Geralt, she didn’t. Then again none of them did.”

“I can’t imagine.” Whispers Geralt sincerely, understanding how much it pains you to speak of your mother like this.

“For that,” You seethe out darkly, “I killed my first soldier that day, but of course they didn’t like that, not at all. Soon they held me down and beat me bloody like I was a fucking dog, if it wasn’t for my brother who stopped them. I’d be dead, he saved my life that day, helped me escape and I never looked back.” You swallow thickly as a lone tear slides down your cheek, “I haven’t seen him since, and I dare not think of how he met his end. It just fills me with rage and then...as you can see, I get like this.”

“Best not to linger in the darkness for too long.” Admits Geralt, his eyes truthful and honest as he takes you all in, “I wouldn’t want to lose you.”

Breaking out into a crooked smile you blink more tears away as he moves an inch closer, “I already feel gone some days. I’m not a good person Geralt, I’m dangerous.” Your voice his raspy and soft now as the feel of the room appears to take a shift somewhere you’re not so sure of. Dangerous? Y/N he has no idea.

The Witcher’s lips curl into a pleasant smile as his face keeps mere inches from your own, “I like dangerous.” Whispers Geralt before his plush lips pull you into a new world of warmth and fire. He moves against your mouth, taking his time as the two of you find a comfortable rhythm. Well, this is nice.

He tastes as sweet as the apples you gave him for dinner and all the better to draw you away from your darkness as he showers you in his intoxicating light. You can’t believe how gentle and passionate he feels against you now and it’s only his lips!

You could stay like this forever but soon enough he pulls away, resting a calloused hand against your knee, “Forgive me I should have asked.”

“Don’t be a fool, I was thinking it too. And anyways you kept your word.”

“Did I?” Wonders Geralt, brows furrowed in confusion.

You smirk, “Remember? You said you’d comfort me of my miseries? Are you still planning on doing that...just a simple question really you don’t have to look so lost.”

Breaking out of his frumpled gaze he finally gives you a handsome smile, “How could I forget?”

“Well it was pretty traumatic so.” You deadpan with a dark humored snort before Geralt leans in to capture your lips once more.

The next morning you wake from the warm comfort of the cabins large single bed, an equally as warm arm covering half your face as you feel a large body pressed firmly against your side. Your hair lays free and unkept around your face as well, and you already know your naked underneath this soft blanket and snoozing man next to you.

His breaths are slow as he stirs in his slumber, pulling you in even closer as his arm now finds itself against your one free breast. You giggle quietly at the situation, how awkward it would be if someone was to burst forth from those doors and find you both in the nude like this. Ha, let them try.

Apparently you’re not as subtle as you’d thought, Geralt awakens before sucking in a deep breath as he stirs slightly, suddenly freezing in place once he realizes his hand is practically squeezing your boob.

You chuckle, moving your hand to keep it there, “You’re surprisingly a cuddlier, who would have thought?” You jest humorously.

“Uh....yes.” Mutters Geralt awkwardly as you smile, though he can’t see it.

Noticing his change of behavior you realize he doesn’t really know what to do about your boldness so you help him out by shifting yourself to face him. “With how well you were treating me last night I would have thought my breast would feel quite nice in your hand. Have I misinterpreted?”

He smiles, a small dusting of pink finding its way onto his chiseled features, “I find it important to respect you first Y/N, this is still...new.”

Biting your lip you lean in close to place a gentle kiss against his soft lips, “I enjoy your touch, you’re something that I believe I’ve been missing for a long while. Maybe we were meant to find each other and you not kill me.”

He chuckles a sweet sound that fills you with pure joy, “And you to heal me, I don’t feel much pain anymore.”

You smirk, rolling your eyes as you graze your hand down his face and arm, “I healed you enough about six days ago, I know you were just milking it since.”

“No I wasn’t...”

“Oh shut it, I think it was a clever idea to get in my pants if that was your plan.”

He fake scoffs, “That wasn’t the plan Y/N.”

“Then what was the plan? Oh wait,” You move yourself even closer to him, lips just barely touching, “Witcher’s don’t have plans, they just flatter and hope for the best.”

His strong arm holds you close as you rest your hand on his shoulder, “Maybe so.” Whispers Geralt before pressing his lips to yours.

Soon enough you find yourself pinned down to the bed, a very hot and visibly happy Geralt deep inside you as you try and keep yourself from screaming to loud. You can’t help how big and beautiful and so very large he is, and anyways he looks like a man on the edge of paradise. Who are you to deprive your new lover of his high?

Geralt does admittedly feel blessed against you if you’re being completely honest, the way he thrusts deeply into your womanhood like a man deprived of such pleasantries, or maybe the way your name falls onto his sweet lips when he feels his weakest. You can’t tell for sure, but he may be in love with just as much as you are with him and that is a promising thought. Or is it?

With an almost whiny moan do you finally come, the pleasure built up after such a ride releasing at long last. Sending a wave of euphoria throughout your entire vessel causing your slick walls to clench around Geralt’s hard cock as he continues to relentlessly pump into you.

Soon you can feel a hot warmness pooling into you as your Witcher grunts in satisfaction while his length twitches inside you, painting your walls with his seed like the skilled artist that he is.

Hovering just above your sweaty and very naked form does he smile kindly before leaning down to capture your swollen lips with his own. He bucks his hips into you a couple times more as he enjoys the feeling of making you squirm underneath him. Completely surrendering all that you are to him, though he’d be lying if he said that he wasn’t doing the same with you.

Laying flush against you, his body still between your sore legs he pulls away from your pouting lips to lean his arms against your face. Soon another kiss is stolen, then another and another as he gently presses his lips to your cheek. Then jaw, where he decides to stay and attack for awhile which causes you to chuckle at his adorable-ness.

“You need new clothes.” You practically moan as he playfully bites your jaw, kissing that spot just as quickly.

“It’s warm in here.” Mutters Geralt against your hot skin, “Nothing is as interesting as you.”

You bite back another moan, “We need food.”

He smirks against your neck, rolling his hips to try and sway your mind, “But you’re delicious enough Y/N.” Oh this man.

Breathing heavily you do your best to fight off your growing arousal, “Geralt.” You warn through clenched teeth, hands leaving red marks down his back as you playfully threaten him.

He kisses your cheek once more as a sly hand squeezes your firm breast, “Fine. Let me make love to you first then we can go.” States Geralt against your lips as he suddenly gives you three deep slow thrusts that send you into another realm of pleasure.

#the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #henry cavill #geralt x y/n

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damnlance · 3 years

Note

21 please

Klance prompt #21

21. “Where did you get all these bruises from?”

Summary: Keith shows Lance his bruises and tells him where and when he got them.

It’s been eight days since the mission with The Blade.

The failed mission.

Keith can’t stop thinking about it. It's deep in his head. Flashes behind his eyes every time he closes them. It’s all over his body. Literally.

Dark purple and black bruises decorate his arms and legs and torso. Cuts and scrapes on his face. He deserves it, though. It’s his fault the mission went so badly. He swore he had everything under control. He said all the right things that he rehearsed over and over before landing on that freezing cold, yet weirdly humid, planet. He was calm and straightforward, but not demanding in any way. Or.. at least he thinks he wasn’t..

He still doesn’t know when everything went wrong. They were there to make peace with this planet, called Nagara, and offer them all the food, water, and supplies they needed to rebuild their planet after all the destruction and damage from the war 3 years ago. It was Keith’s job as the frontman and spokesperson to provide the aliens of the planet with a state of peace and safety since the war was over now.

But.. somewhere along the lines, Keith said the wrong thing. Or he did the wrong thing? Or he.. said and did the wrong thing at the same time and it made the Nagarians angry? He doesn’t know and he won’t know. His ears are blank to his own voice and words when he tries to replay the moments, seconds, before everything went wrong.

It doesn’t matter. He will never forget the way his mother looked at him after everything.

Her face was filled with pure rage. A look Keith has only ever seen if she was fighting the enemy. Never looking at him. And Kolivan? Oh, don’t even get him started on Kolivan.

Because what happened was so bad, Kolivan put Keith on a temporary suspension. Meaning he would sit out of all things ‘providing humanitarian relief to other planets’ and so on. That meant no meetings, debriefings, or socialization of any kind involving their mission to restore peace, and he would have to watch a four hour long video on what and what not to do during peace negotiations on otherworldly planets.

He was on complete lockdown and it was fucking pathetic.

Not only did he not bother to watch that stupid, long video. Instead, he kept himself locked in his room on the giant galra ship, not interacting with a single galran soul. Including his mother and Kolivan. He couldn't handle the scalding glares or the whispering in the hallways whenever he left to try to get some type of food in him. It was too much. And it’s what everyone was expecting of him. But not as Keith himself. As a mixed breed; a half galra, half human.

After six days of being temporarily suspended, Keith couldn’t handle anything anymore. It was too much and he was tired of literally everything, so he packed up all the shit he could gather, grabbed his trusty space wolf, and left in his galra cruiser without notifying anyone.

Now, here he is, a day out. The ride down to earth is.. pretty uncomfortable to say the least. His cruiser isn’t as big as it looks and with Kosmo tagging along and his giant duffle bag, it’s a little cramped. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s almost to his destination, and he can’t wait to land. Because yeah okay, he’s suspended temporarily, but that doesn’t mean he can’t get away for some quality Keith time. A little vacation never hurt anyone. And he knows just who he wants to spend his free time with.

knock knock knock!

Lance jerks awake. The first thing his tired eyes land on is the ceiling. It’s dimly lit and as his pupils unblur from the sleep still in them, he can hear the static of the tv that’s still on from some boring action movie he decided to watch. The once fresh bowl of popcorn on the coffee table has run cold long ago and the pitter patter of water droplets hitting the roof from the outside can be heard as well.

Lance sits up slowly and stretches his arms above his head, a yawn slipping its way out of his mouth as he tries to register reality around him. It takes him a few seconds to wake up and when he does, he remembers that it was a knock that woke him in the first place. He carefully stands, slipping his bare feet into the slippers on the floor just next to the navy blue colored couch, and walks over to the front door, hugging himself.

As soon as he opens the door, the pouring rain is louder. And Keith is standing there. Soaking wet with a big duffel bag in one hand and a leash that’s connected to the collar on Kosmo’s neck in the other hand.

“Keith!?” Lance is ten times more awake now as he quickly moves aside to let Keith and Kosmo in. “Oh, shit man, you’re soaking wet! Let me go grab some towels!”

“Thanks,” is the first word out of Keith’s mouth. It’s shy and embarrassed but Lance doesn’t pay any mind to it as he rummages through the towel closet next to the hallway bathroom. He comes back and wraps a big towel around Keith’s shoulders, taking the duffle bag from his hand and setting it next to the smaller couch by the bay window in the living room. Lance takes the other towel, kneeling down to begin drying off Kosmo. Kosmo licks his face as he does it and it makes Lance smile, tossing and turning his head away from the alien wolf’s freakishly long tongue. Once he’s finished, Lance stands and finds Keith on the couch, discarding his wet clothes. He walks over and sits on the coffee table directly in front of him.

“Keith?” He asks, the tone in his voice full of wonder and confusion, but also worry.

“I’m fine,” Keith answers, a sigh leaving his lips. He looks at Lance through his long, wet bangs and sends him a weak but reassuring smirk. “I decided it was time for a.. a small break.”

Lance doesn’t look convinced, sitting there twiddling his thumbs. “How small?”

Keith shrugs, losing their eye contact. “Couple weeks, tops.”

“Weeks sound like a long time to be away..” Lance bites his lower lip, his bed head, or couch head in this situation, making Keith want to reach over and pat his hair down. “I feel like there’s something else I’m missing here.”

A sigh. “Later, Lance, okay? I’m tired and wet and cold, and I just want to shower and lay down, if that’s alright?” He finally looks back over to those dark blue eyes in the dark living room and then, a small nod and a smile.

“Sure,” Lance says, this time with more confidence, but his eyes scan over the scrapes and scratches on Keith’s face. “Let me help you out with your suit.”

They both stand and Keith turns around for Lance to unzip it from the back. He moves his long wet hair over his right shoulder and puts his head down. The literal second that Lance grabs that zipper, Keith remembers how his body looks. And if Lance thinks his face is bad, just wait til he sees his body. Keith jerks away and it startles Lance as he almost trips over the coffee table.

“Keith!? What the he-!?”

“I-I just remembered!” Keith looks everywhere but Lance’s eyes now. “I smell horrible underneath this suit a-and I really don’t want you to smell me, so I’ll just head to the bathroom now!”

“What??” Lance scoffs. “A-are you sure?? I don’t mind a little stink, Keith, I’ve smelled you right after a fight with the-!”

“I’m sure.” Keith nods. He sends a nervous smile towards Lance and quickly leans forward to plant a quick kiss to his cheek. He grabs his duffel bag and b lines it for the guest room, closing the door behind him. Lance watches his every move, then turns back to look at Kosmo who is looking right at him.

“What was that about??” He asks the wolf. Kosmo tilts his head, ears popping up. Lance sighs and begins his walk towards his kitchen. “Come on, boy. You must be hungry.”

Keith wipes the foggy mirror with his hand, exhaling a breath of relief from the heavenly shower he just took. He takes the smaller towel from around his neck and dries his hair, ruffling it up in the process. His eyes scan his tired face and exhausted body. The bruises that decorate his pale skin are of dark purples and blues and blacks. They’re eight days old, but they still hurt like crazy. Keith eyes the one right below his left pec. It’s purple with yellow blotches and he presses down on it just to see and the pain that zips down his spine is more than enough warning to tell him to stop. A deep sigh leaves his mouth as he pushes his hair back and ties it up in a messy bun.

knock knock! “Keith? You okay?”

Keith nearly jumps at Lance’s voice. “U-uh, yeah! I’ll be out in a second.”

“Okay.” The concern in Lance’s voice eases. “No rush, though.”

Keith sighs again. He has to tell Lance. Has to show him. Sure, he’ll freak out and never want him to leave again but.. if he gets it over with, there won’t be any more surprises if Lance wants to touch him again.

A soft smile graces Keith’s lips as he thinks about the man just on the other side of the door. They’ve been through a lot. Individually. Together. And even though it’s only been three years, they still suffer through the after effects of the war. They all do.

Lance gets nightmares. About a lot of things. He says his nightmares feel so real, and sometimes it’s hard to decipher if his nightmares really happened or not. It scares him and has left him very vulnerable in more situations than he likes to admit. There’s a lot more than just the nightmares; flashbacks in the middle of the day, jumping at loud noises, never leaving his home because he feels like everywhere he turns, some species-less threat is gonna come out and attack him, Allura’s sacrifice. Yeah. It’s a pretty long list. But with therapy, his family and friends’ support, and Keith, he’s come a very long way to recovery.

Keith on the other hand got most of the paranoia. Even though he still works in space with his galran colleagues, he still can’t help but get that itch underneath his skin that someday, someone will turn on him and try to attack him. It could happen at any time. Any day or night. Anywhere. Because of this fear, he doesn’t get much sleep, and is very overprotective of his friends. Of his mother. Even his space wolf. His knife has become like a permanent extension to his hand, he never goes anywhere without it. Keeps it underneath his pillow, in his back pocket, in his boot, anywhere that’s easy enough to reach so he can defend himself if need be. He’s even accidentally pulled it on all of his friends at least once. Even on Lance, who barely even flinched at the time. It’s safe to say that no one can ever sneak up on him.

And somehow, through all their damage, Keith and Lance still found each other. It wasn’t right away. And it wasn’t planned, either. It’s just.. happened. They barely talked after the war ended, and unpurposely drifted apart. Keith busied himself in his work with The Blade, and Lance distanced himself away from everyone.

But one year ago, around Christmas, Keith came back to spend the holiday with Shiro and Curtis. Little did he know, they were gone for the holidays, so Keith, and Krolia, decided to stay with Lance and his huge family. Lance was so happy to see him, he couldn’t dare to say no. ‘The more the merrier,’ his mother Rosa said. So, while Keith and Lance spent the time shopping together and baking cookies and wrapping gifts and getting drunk on eggnog, Krolia learned a lot of the Christmas Earth traditions and Cuban recipes from Rosa and even got a few surprise presents from Lance’s niece and nephew. She cried because she didn’t know what else to do. Happiness always makes Krolia cry. Keith bought Lance a red Paladin mug with his face on it that he saw at some flea market on one of their stops on some random planet, and Lance bought Keith a giant blanket to keep him warm while he was away in space. The emotions were flying, the eggnog was settling and long story short, they ended up sleeping together, with every ounce of consent they could muster. It’s still one of the greatest nights of Keith’s life.

They’ve been together since then, five months, and even though they don’t have a label on what they are, Keith is happy this way. He likes being label-less with Lance. He likes having a home to come back to, with a warm kitchen, a warm bed, and a warm body. He likes the open space and how much Kosmo and Kaltenecker get along. He likes how much Kosmo adores Lance and his homemade space wolf food, just for him. He likes that Lance buys stuff for him to have when he’s away so he has new things to come back to. New slippers. A new comfy robe. New matching pajamas. A new toothbrush. Keith likes Lance. And everything that they are in the moments they’re together. And although he knows Lance is still grieving over Allura and that it could take a couple more years until he’s ready for a real relationship, Keith would take this over anything. Any day.

As he emerges from the bathroom, he doesn’t bother putting on all of his clothes, just his red paladin boxer briefs. He and Lance have seen each other naked plenty of times, and he’s very comfortable in his skin around Lance. Lance has that effect on him. So when he walks out in just his boxer briefs and a white cotton towel around his neck, he’s got absolutely nothing to hide. Except, maybe not giving Lance a heart attack tonight. Keith hides behind the wall just before the entryway to the living room and curses himself for what he’s about to do.

“H-hey.. Lance?”

“Yeah?” Lance says, something like food in his mouth. “Where are you, man?”

“I’m…” Keith sighs. “Can you just.. cl-close your eyes for a sec.. please?”

“Uh,” Lance shrugs, Keith can hear from his clothes rumpling up. “Sure.”

Keith peeks around the corner and sees that Lance’s eyes are sealed shut. Kosmo is on the floor next to him, sound asleep. His tongue is hanging out just the slightest bit as snores leave his mouth. Keith smiles at the sight and looks back to Lance. He’s so beautiful. This guy has done some much for him and more. Before the war, during, and now after. He’s the greatest guy that Keith could’ve asked for.. greater than that. With that in mind, Keith steps out from behind the wall and walks over to Lance before his brain tells him that this is all a bad idea. The living room is still dim, only illuminated by the television and the lamp next to the couch Lance is sitting on, but it’ll be more than enough light to see Keith’s battered body.

Once Keith is in front of Lance, he closes his own eyes, fists clenched down by his sides.

“Okay.. now on the count of three, you can open your eyes.. but don’t freak out. Got it?”

Lance lets out a small snort. “Yes, Keef, I got it.”

Keith rolls closed eyes and sticks his nails into the palms of his sweaty hands. “Alright.. one.. two.. three..”

Lance’s eyes open. The breath that gets caught in his throat is enough to send Keith’s gut dropping out of his ass and into the floor.

“Holy shit!” Lance is up, eyes roaming Keith’s entire body. “W-what the fu-!?”

Keith opens his eyes and is face to face with Lance. They’re almost the same height, Keith’s got him by a few inches easily, and the look on Lance’s face is enough to send Keith into cardiac arrest.

“I-I’m fine, Lance, really-”

“No, you’re not!” Lance cuts him off, wanting to reach out but too afraid to do so. Keith’s tone, muscular body is a canvas of dark colors and spots of different shapes. No wonder he jumped earlier, Lance could have hurt him even more than he already looks. A shaky breath leaves Lance’s mouth as he meets Keith’s dark eyes. “What happened to you, love?”

Love. The pet name actually sends Keith’s into cardiac arrest, he’s sure of it. But as soon as Lance cups his face with both of his big, warm hands, it’s over for Keith. His eyes begin to water and his throat closes up on him so that he can’t talk. Tears fall down his cheeks as he looks down to the floor between him and Lance. His bottom lip quivers and when Lance tilts his head back up to look at him again, a sob slips its way out of Keith’s mouth.

“Oh, Keith,” Lance coos, bringing Keith into a big, gentle hug. Keith hugs him back, sobbing into his shoulder. “Baby..” Lance whispers.

Keith just continues to sob. He didn’t even know he had been holding back for so long. But here, in Lance’s arms, he can feel everything that’s been bottled up coming out of his throat and from his teary eyes. Lance only continues to hold him, rubbing his soft hands up and down Keith’s pale bruised back.

Keith doesn’t know how long this goes on. How long he cries. How long Lance holds him. But somewhere in the middle of it all, they’ve moved to Lance’s room. Keith sits on Lance’s bed, wiping his red, teary eyes and snotty nose with a tissue. Lance rummages through his bathroom drawer for some numbing ointment that he recently bought for his back and feet from working out on the farm five days a week. When he returns, Keith is done crying. He sits up straight and removes the white towel from around his neck. Lance stands in front of him and kneels between his open legs. He stares at them. At the bruises and scratches and scabbed gashes.

“I..” he starts, clearing his throat from what has to be a lump forming. “I got this.. numbing cream. It’ll help a lot.”

Keith stares down at him as he talks, his voice is so quiet and gentle.

“Can I..?” Lance asks, looking up to meet Keith’s red eyes.

“Yeah.” Keith nods.

Lance uncaps the ointment, squirting a good amount into the palm of his hand. He sets the tube down and rubs his hands together. Then, he gently, gently, places them on Keith’s bruised thighs and begins rubbing the ointment around.

Keith clenches his jaw, hands fisting in the comforter on Lance’s bed. He lets out the air from his nostrils and feels the pain slowly turning into relief. He looks down and watches as Lance works his hands in circular motions, gently rubbing the ointment onto Keith’s injuries.

“..keith…?“ Lance whispers, eyes focused on his hands covered with ointment that’s slowly making his hands numb.

“Yeah..?” Keith answers back, looking at the ceiling of Lance’s room. Those glow in the dark stars are still there.

“How…” Lance clears his throat. “W.. Where did you get all these bruises from?”

Keith sighs. “..blade mission.. gone wrong..”

Something in Lance’s eyes darken. “What? W-when?? How?? W-Where!?”

“Um..” Keith can’t even look at Lance anymore. The worry in his eyes is too much. “A.. Week ago.. on some planet called Nagara. It was.. all my f.. my faul..” The tears are back. Keith blinks them away and sniffs quietly, looking down at his hands in his lap. He can feel himself sinking back to that day, to that mission. He remembers it all so clearly.

They landed on Nagara. The planet was really cold. He and The Blade were greeted by a tall figure who looked similar to an earth bear. They were big, round, had dark eyes all around, sharp teeth and a snout. Three rows of antenna grew out of their foreheads as well as horns of all shapes and sizes going down their backs and spines. And giant sharp claws for fingers. They looked vicious. And they made it very clear that they didn’t like the Galra.

Keith made the first move. He spoke in a calm voice and made his intentions clear; he and The Blade were only there to help and provide the planet with anything they needed. They had food, water, clothes, and building supplies ready on their ships and were 100% committed to fixing up this planet and its species from the after effects of the war. But their King, King Arxuan, wouldn’t let them go any further until they explained what they were doing there. So Keith did.

He explained it all. Voltron won. Zarkon dead. Princess Allura saved the universe. Keith is the red and black Paladin. The Blade of Marmora is good. The Blade of Marmora is here to help. But Keith being Keith.. he’s not too good with his words. Everything sounded fine in his head. And when it came out of his mouth? Completely different.

“We are The Blade of Marmora,” Keith started. “We’re here to provide supplies to your helpless planet that has clearly been affected by the war and-”

Record scratch. Yeah, poor choice of words on Keith’s end. But they left his mouth so fast that his brain couldn't keep up. The King and his subjects didn’t like it one bit and before Keith could keep up with his offensive word vomit, the Nagarians drew their weapons and like a firework, everything went up in flames.

Keith didn’t mean to offend anyone.. and he didn’t mean it like that. But the Nagarians didn’t know or care how he meant it. They attacked within seconds of Keith’s poor choice of words and thank god for his team’s fast reflexes, otherwise his head would not be on his shoulders and he wouldn’t be sitting here on Lance’s bed.

Legs criss crossed on Lance’s bed, the strong minty scent of numbing cream filling the room.

His fingers locked with Lance’s as Lance rubs his thumb over Keith’s fingers.

Gently.

Domestically.

Lovingly.

Keith feels warmth bloom in the pit of his stomach as he stares down at Lance who’s sitting on the floor in front of him. Those deep blue eyes staring back so affectionately. Altean markings just barely glowing in Lance's dim room.

Lance swallows and squeezes Keith’s hand. “Are you alright?”

“I am now..” Keith shrugs, looking at the floor. “But these last few days have been hell.. and the guilt I have for almost killing my team has.. been..”

Lance nods, understanding. He comes up off of the floor and sits next to Keith. The second his arm goes up, Keith is there leaning into his side, nuzzling into his neck. His cheeks are wet with tears again and quiet sobs leave his throat.

“It’s okay, Keith,” Lance nods, planting a gentle kiss atop Keith’s head. “We all make mistakes. Some worse than others. but.. what matters now is that you’re here. You’re alive. And safe.”

Keith nods, sniffling as tears and snot run down his face. He’s had everything balled up until this very moment. The guilt. The shame. The way Kolivan and his mother looked at him. The way the other Blade members blamed him. None of that mattered anymore. Because here, in Lance’s heavenly embrace, he was fine. He was gonna be alright.

“You’re safe, love..” Lance reassures him. “I’ve got you.”

And he does. Lance holds Keith tight, holds him close. Lance lets him cry and doesn’t judge him. He’s just.. there for him. And it’s everything Keith needed.

Keith wakes up in Lance’s bed.

Blanket crowding his entire body. His long hair is literally everywhere around his face and neck and shoulders. The golden sun is shining through the blinds of the window, making him squint a tiny bit, and the pain from the bruises on his body are somewhat bearable..

There’s a smell hitting his nostrils that makes his mouth water and stomach grumble in a hunger he didn’t know he had. When he sits up, Kosmo is right there beside him, curled up in a ball, staring at him. Keith smiles at the space wolf and reaches to pet his head.

“Hey there, boy.” He rubs behind Kosmo’s ears, chuckling a little when Kosmo nuzzles into his hand. Suddenly, flashes of last night come flooding back to Keith’s mind and he groans out, covering his face. Sure, crying his eyes out all night long and being comforted by Lance, his friend-boyfriend-whatever-they-are was nice, BUT crying your eyes out all night long and and being comforted by Lance, his friend-boyfriend-whatever-they-are took a lot out of Keith. He’s tired. Mentally. Physically. Emotionally. He just wants to spend the rest of his time away from work relaxing with the only person he wants to be with in the entire universe. And Kosmo.

And as if on cue..

“Keith?” Lance’s voice is soft. “You awake, yet?”

Keith looks over to the door and sees Lance popping his head into his own room. When their eyes meet, Keith can feel the undeniable spark between them and it causes his heart to do something funny beneath his rib cage. He smiles a bit shyly and brings his legs up to a criss-cross position, Lance’s puffy space themed blankets bunching up around Keith’s waist.

“Morning..” Keith answers, tucking his long hair behind his ear.

Lance’s eyes never leave his as the Cuban boy finally enters the room, two plates full of food in each of his hands. Keith eyes the food and his stomach grumbles once again. The noise overthrows the silence in the room and Keith has to put his hands over his stomach to silence the sound. It didn’t work.

“Good morning to you, too,” Lance chuckles, setting Keith’s plate into his lap. “Guess I don’t have to ask if you’re hungry, huh?”

“Shut up..” Keith flushes and looks down at his full plate of food. Organic eggs, two fluffy pancakes, sweet turkey bacon and a buttery biscuit with strawberry jam decorate his plate beautifully. All of his favorite breakfast foods right there in front of him. Made by the man right beside him with a matching plate of food for himself.

“Dig in!” Lance says, his mouth already full of food. Keith doesn’t waste a second and obeys the words from Lance's mouth. They eat in a comfortable silence, Kosmo moving to the ground to collect any scraps they throw his way. After a while, Keith clears his throat and musters up the courage to look at Lance’s beautiful face.

“H-hey, uh.. Lance?” He whispers.

“Yeah?” Lance is staring at him now, blue eyes boring into him again.

Keith can’t breathe and he finds himself having to take a really deep breath before he continues.

“Thank you,” he pushes out of his throat, “for everything. For letting me cry in front of you, and.. for not judging me for it.”

Lance stops chewing and swallows. Keith quickly takes him all in before he gets caught; Lance’s messy brown curls, his gorgeous tan skin all over his bare torso, those cute little freckles all over his body, his Altean marks. Everything about him is so breathtaking and Keith can barely keep his heart at bay.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Lance says, breaking Keith’s thoughts. Their eyes meet again. “I’m here for you no matter what, Keith. You have to know that by now.”

“I-I do,” Keith nods, tucking his lower lip between his teeth. He sets his plate onto the bedside table next to him and scoots closer to Lance. As if completely on autopilot, he grabs Lance’s face and forces their eyes to meet once more. He stares deeply into those ocean blue eyes and fights the awkward urge to look away.

“Lance,” he starts, exhaling a breath that smells like eggs, bacon, and syrup, “I love you, so much. Thank you for always comforting me and being my right hand man.. you.. you are the light in my life, and I..”

Tears fill Keith’s eyes and to his surprise, Lance also sports some in his own eyes.

“I know,” Lance whispers, gaze moving from Keith’s eyes, to his lips, and back. “Like I said, you don’t have to thank me. I would do anything for you. Because.. I love you, too.”

The second Lance’s plate is out of the way, the two boys are kissing so fast, the air in their lungs can’t keep up. Lance pulls Keith close by the oversized t-shirt around his torso and clings to him for dear life. Keith does the same and cups Lance’s cheeks. Their kisses are full of passion, desperation, and love. And when they part, Lance is trailing those same kisses down Keith’s jaw, to his neck and his collarbones, kissing every visible bruise he can reach.

“I’m so happy you’re safe, my love,” He says between kisses on Keith’s neck. As he pulls back, Keith is smiling like Lance is his whole world.

“Me, too, Lance,” Keith answers, kissing the corner of Lance’s syrupy mouth, his cheeks and neck flushing red. “Me, too.”

-END-

(send me a klangst prompt)

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jackrrabbit · 4 years

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Oh? Request open? Since you write for Inuyasha, how about some 18+ content for Koga please?

Mating Season /// Koga x f!Reader (18+)

I’ve always had a soft spot for Koga, and he has so much nasty potential as a wolf demon. Repressed village girl vs. horny wolf-boy is peak lewd.

Warnings: dubcon, wolf characteristics, yandere, light a/b/o, very light breeding kink (there’s like 1 mention of it)

As a villager at the foot of the mountains where Koga’s pack lives, you’ve heard stories since you were a child about the vicious wolf demons who live in caves and eat little girls who stray away from their homes. Now that you’re an adult and you only half believe in fairy tales, you still should’ve known better than to take a nap in the woods with sunset coming so soon. But who could blame you? They were just stories. Rumors. Old wives’ tales passed down from mother to daughter for generations, a warning not to stray from what was known. And you’d been exhausted. During the daylight hours you know these woods like the back of your hand—surely you can’t be blamed for putting down your basket and resting your eyes, just for a moment?

Not that he needs more than a moment. Your fate is sealed the second you step into the woods, into his territory, where he’s isolated himself to spend his rut away from the other members of his pack. It’s hard enough to hold back his…more aggressive instincts when he’s alone; but when he finds you sleeping propped up against a tree, looking sweet and innocent and smelling like a bitch in heat, you really just don’t stand a chance.

Koga’s torso pushes down into your back like he’s trying to pin you with the weight of his body. When you manage to suck in a breath (struggling to let your ribs expand against his iron-solid grip on you), you can smell his sweat and yours mixing with the slightly-damp earth under your feet and the sharp, bitter medicinal herbs you were gathering. With your skirts pushed up to your waist the springtime evening mist is frigid against your bare skin, but the heat radiating off his body is making you feel feverish anyway. Your knees are digging into the dirt and for some reason the thought crosses your mind that your nice white stockings are definitely going to stain, and your mother is going to be so angry, and you almost want to laugh at how absurd the thought is. As if a few stains could possibly matter while a demon is fucking you.

Instead of laughing, you whimper as Koga hits a particularly deep spot inside of you. How many times has he finished inside now? Three? Four? His arm is wrapped around your torso, keeping your body locked into his while he drives into you over and over and over. His thick cock nudges up against your cervix every time he pushes his hips toward your ass. It hurt at first. You aren’t sure when it stopped hurting. Maybe it still hurts.

But oh…it feels so good, too. You didn’t even know it was possible to feel like this. It’s like you’ve been hungry—starving—your whole life, and now you’re finally getting something to eat. Every inch of your cunt aches, but at some point you start trying to buck your hips back toward his. It isn’t so much reciprocation as it is just trying to ground yourself, or maybe letting yourself go in the moment… You can barely keep yourself upright, and you drop onto your elbows, your forehead inches away from the mud.

The demon growls—growls, actually growls like a wild animal, as if you needed more convincing—and he presses his bare chest down toward you, the sweat soaking off of his skin and through the fabric of your bodice. His thrusts are slower now, not the rapid jerks that he started out with. Maybe he can tell you like this better? Feeling every inch of his cock opening you up and rubbing against the sensitive walls of your cunt is making you afraid you’re going to lose your mind in the delirious fog of what you would call lust if you knew the word for it.

You certainly sound like you want it, your pleas transforming into sweet moans as your body adapts to the mating. You probably don’t even realize how wanton your voice is. Whatever else you’ve said, all Koga can hear in his rut-induced haze are your cries of pleasure and the squelching of his dick sliding in and out of you.

It’s easier when you don’t have to look at him. You can pretend that this is a dream, the kind of impure fantasy the village girls giggle to each other about, comparing their conquests, making up stories about which of the young men is the most handsome, who probably has the most experience, who might have the biggest—

“Ah!” you cry out, squeezing your eyes shut so you don’t have to look at the creamy smears of the demon’s cum painting your thighs white and collecting on the dirt between your legs. Surely no mortal man would be capable of finishing so many times without even pulling out.

Koga releases your hips and you rock forward, startled, until he grabs you by your upper arm and pulls you upright so you’re sitting in his lap with his cock still impaled inside of you. He rolls his hips experimentally and you hiss in surprise as his thick head drags against a sensitive spot in your pussy.

Before you can get accustomed to the new angle, he’s pulling your head around so you’re forced to look into his face. You imagine that this is how a prey animal feels when it’s stared down by a predator—a rabbit looking at a wolf, haha, your mind supplies involuntarily—there’s something that makes it impossible to look away. The part of your brain that’s still clinging to rationality and trying to compartmentalize notes for a second that oddly enough, he looks just as desperate as you feel.

“Wh-whyyy?” you whine, half-aware that this is the first real word spoken between you. You don’t know why you think he’s going to respond—even though he looks more human than the other demons you’ve encountered, his actions have been just as feral and animalistic as the rest of them, if only less violent and more…depraved.

There’s a bead of sweat rolling down your neck, and Koga can’t take his eyes off of it. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pulls your head back to expose the smooth column of your throat, careful not to yank it hard enough to hurt you. Humans are so fragile. When he tilts forward to lick the salty droplet off your skin, he feels your shiver all the way down. “You—I smelled you…”

In your half-aware state, it takes you a moment to hear him. “…What?”

The demon nuzzles his face into your hair, and his leisurely sigh stirs the fine hairs on the back of your neck. “Smells so good…waiting for me. Begging for me…”

“I—I don’t understand? Begging? Ah—ahhh…” Not for the first time, you try to push away from the demon uselessly. The rhythm of his slow, rocking thrusts doesn’t falter—you wouldn’t be surprised if he can’t even feel it.

It’s not easy for Koga to listen to your words when your moaning is so much more interesting, but he tries. For your sake. His soft little mate, so warm and weak while you grind your ass into his lap. What about this don’t you understand? He smelled you, he wanted you, he fucked you. And you wanted it too, of course you did…why else would you be wandering around by yourself in the peak of your heat, so ripe and ready for breeding that the smell of your lust is rising off your skin in waves? Why else would you have crossed into the territory of an alpha in his rut…?

But humans don’t think like that, do they?

The thought pierces Koga’s mind with a sudden, harsh clarity that would have been impossible had he not already finished inside your needy cunt four times now. Humans are different. Their senses of smell are so weak, just like the rest of them.

Koga remembers, unwillingly, a time when he crossed paths with Kagome’s party while she’d been on the edge of her heat. He smelled it, and Inuyasha noticed. The mutt pulled Koga aside to warn him not to mention it to her.

“But she’s about to go into heat. She shouldn’t be out of her house, let alone traveling with you, hanyo. Or can you even smell it?”

“Shut up, of course I can! But she can’t. Believe me, I brought it up to her once and she got pissed and said I was a pervert. Humans don’t know about stuff like that.”

They…don’t know. So that meant you didn’t know. You came into his territory by accident. You don’t know you’re in heat. You don’t know he’s in his rut, and you don’t know he’s an alpha. You probably don’t even know you’re in his territory.

The demon’s movements slow and then go still, and you’re left sitting in his lap with his cock still pulsing, a stiff rod of heat in your belly. You wait a moment, wondering if he’s going to pull out, but he doesn’t. His arm is still wrapped around you and his sharp fingernails are digging into the fabric of your bodice, no doubt leaving crescent-shaped marks in your skin. Involuntarily you feel yourself rock your hips against his pelvis, a feeble attempt to get him to pull out or even just move—the sex might’ve been uncomfortable, but feeling all full and stretched and so close to satisfaction with no way to get it by yourself is unbearable.

When there’s no response, you turn around toward him to get your first good look at the man (the demon) who’s made you want things you don’t even know how to say out loud. He’s good-looking—tall, tan, with boyish good looks (that would have earned him quite a few admirers if he were a villager like you) and flat blue eyes that seem oddly unfocused. His hair is tied up in a ponytail and you have the urge to pull on it, just like he pulled on your hair a moment ago. You don’t know his name. “Demon…please. I need you,” you whisper, letting some of the urgency you’re feeling spill into your voice.

Both of his hands clamp down on your hips, securing you in place while he slams his hips up back into yours. “Mate,” he snarls, his voice drowning out your yelp of pleasure, and before your mind goes blank with lust again, a chill runs down your spine because you’re not sure if he’s correcting you…or addressing you.

#inuyasha #inuyasha imagines #koga #koga x reader #smut #this ended up weirdly tender idk idk #i feel like the only audience for this will be me and the person who sent me the ask #but who cares #it's free real estate #yandere x reader #a/b/o #lowkey?#dubcon #tw dubcon

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