#werewolf wip
Text
Too much sun
Matt gets sick and calls Isaiah for help. Contains emeto.
"Have fun, Matt."
Matthew turned at the phrase, giving Isaiah a sceptical look. "Last time you send me away to have fun, you ended up with a flu from hell. I'm not making the same mistake."
Isaiah sighed. "Alright, but that's a lesson for me, not for you. And I did call Sel back, didn't I?"
Matthew frowned. He was all ready to leave, shorts and a shirt. Some of his new friends from boxing invited him to a basketball game and the weather was perfect for the courts outside on the beach by the Danube river.
"Matt, for real. I'm alright. I'm literally swarmed with homework and assignments, I'm doing two lectures outside my faculty and I don't know what their faculty's style and method focus is at all and I'm gonna be trying to do the volunteering thing at the lawyer's office for wolves on Fridays...besides, I was no invited," Isaiah said with a smirk.
He was so happy Matthew was getting his own friends, that he was reaching out to people and they were reaching back. And not just because they knew he was in the pack with Isaiah.
Matthew needed his confidence in this department build up, and there was nothing better for it than experience.
Matthew bounced on his toes, not looking reassured.
Isaiah grimaced. Did he need to hand out test screenings of his health for his friends to believe him, when he wasn't sick? This was getting out of hand.
"Alright, I'm going. See you in a few hours." Matt probably figured not that much could happen in that time as he turned to leave.
Isaiah relaxed, chuckling a little for himself as he opened his laptop to scroll to the right pdf.
The time flew quickly after he got to work, morning turning to midday and to early afternoon that forced Isaiah to fix himself a lunch as a break. He was working his to do list off very well, satisfied, neglecting his breaks.
Around 2 pm he was sipping coffee on the balcony, wondering if he shouldn't take a walk or go on a quick run. Would Matt be in the mood for some sparring, when he got back, or would he be too tired?
Seline was visiting her parents, hopefully successfully this weekend. One of her uncle's was celebrating his 50th birthday, so she was even farther away from him than usual, someone in Central Slovakia.
Very human focused family from her father's side, since the wolf part came from her mother. Isaiah wondered what it would be like to be there with her. He could play the perfect human, he had no doubt of that, but Seline didn't want him to play one. She wanted him to be a wolf, but introducing a wolf to the family was a more serious business and they both knew it.
His phone rang on the little glass table on the balcony, Matthew's name on the screen.
Isaiah smiled, picking up. "Miss me already?"
"I...saiah..."
Isaiah's smile disappeared at the weakness in Matthew's voice. "Matt? Hey, what's wrong? Are you okay?"
He heard coughing that turned into gags on the other end of the line. "C-could you...come pick me up? P-please..."
Isaiah was at his feet that instant. "Yes, of course. You are at the sport park, right?" He went inside as he spoke, grabbing his car keys. He was really grateful for his car during emergencies, even if the parking situation in Vienna was an expensive tedious business.
"Y-yeah." There was something slurred and scared in the trembling sentence.
"Matt, talk to me." Isaiah locked the door to the apartment, taking the stairs instead of the elevator. "What's wrong with you? Are you hurt?"
"I don't know what's wrong- I can't-urrup-" There was more gagging and something wet hitting the concrete.
"I'll be right there."
The way there was a blur with Isaiah wracking his head about what could have happened on the court. Concussion? Did he suddenly get sick? A fight with some hostile wolves passing through?
He parked the car the closest he could get to the area, getting out, just about to call Matthew for a GPS location, when he spotted a mop of dark red hair on a bench near the basketball court.
Isaiah all about ran to the place, heart speeding anxiously.
Matthew sat hunched down, elbows on his knees. There was no blood and no shadow, no visible signs of injury.
"Matt? Hey, man..."
Matthew lifted his head, squinting his eyes at Isaiah like he was looking straight into the sun and not into a pleasant afternoon shade under the trees. "Hi..."
That's when Isaiah noticed the vomit covering the ground, part of the bench and Matt's left sneaker.
Isaiah sat down on the clean part of the wood, hand going to Matthew's neck. "What happened? What's wrong?"
Matthew slumped forward at Isaiah's touch. "I don't know. We were playing just normal, it was hot and good and all. And then my head started to pound and I got dizzy and suddenly I was throwing up all over the place and I don't know why." There was more than a hint of frustration in Matthew's explanation.
"Okay, okay, we are gonna figure this out." Isaiah ran his hands over Matthew's face, his pupils were normal, there were no bumps...he was really hot and dry to the touch. He could feel no sweat, wasn't that weird after an intense game of basketball on a warm day?
Matthew's face scrunched up in a grimace at the ministrations, closing his eyes. His body suddenly pitched forward with a heave, bringing up a chunky wave of vomit.
Isaiah scrambled to turn Matthew's face towards the sidewalk, between his legs instead of at him, gripping his shoulder and upper arm to steady him. "Okay, bud, get it all out."
"C-can't stop," Matthew managed between gags, spitting at the puddle. He wrapped his hands around his stomach, hunching over even more. "My head really hurts, Zaya."
"Your head? Not your stomach?"
Matthew groaned, slumping to the side against Isaiah who let him fall into his lap, rubbing his back and shoulder. "Everything hurts. Cramps like a motherfucker."
"Okay. Just breathe, it will pass in a minute," Isaiah promised, not sure what it still was.
Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, head on Isaiah's tight, his face one pained grimace, throat bobbing.
"We are just going to stay here and breathe and then I'm going to get you home and it will all be okay," Isaiah said as calmly as he could, rubbing his arm. Could this be some kind of heat related issue? Heat exhaustion or heat stroke? He wasn't that sure of the difference, just that the symptoms were kind of similar.
"...ruined everything again," Matthew said, curling around his stomach.
Isaiah scoffed. "You didn't ruin anything, that's nonse-"
"Got all sick during the game. They all left."
Isaiah frowned, angry coldness entering his voice. "Then they aren't good friends. In fact, they aren't even decent people, to leave someone who is sick alone. What idiots."
"Nobody else got sick, I must have done something wrong..."
"No, you didn't. I think you got a bit of a heatstroke, there, bud, can happen to anybody." Isaiah put the back of his hand to Matthew's creased forehead. Still no sweat and hot to the touch. "We need to get you home and cool you down."
"Uhmmmm," Matthew grunted. "Don't wanna move. Dizzy."
"It's not going to get any better here. I got water in the car and we will be home quick, I promise. I'll help you."
Matthew took a deep shaky breath, but then started to lift himself up. Isaiah helped him to straighten up on the bench, then guided his arm around his shoulders, wrapping his hand gently around Matthew's torso.
The moment they stood up, Matthew groaned, more puke exploding out of his mouth.
Isaiah held him steady, when he swayed, more vomit splattering in front of them, spluttering everywhere.
"Ughhhh, sorry..."
"Shhhhh. Not your fault. Can you walk? One step at a time, we'll go slow."
Matthew got heavier, most of his weight hanging on Isaiah as he fought to catch his balance. He squeezed his eyes shut with force as if to block out all the light.
They made a few steps, when Matthew froze, gripping Isaiah's sleeve on his upper arm in panic. "Zaya, I can't see, I can't see- what-"
Isaiah felt cold sweat on the back his neck, stopping immediately. Matthew's eyes were screwed shut. "Shhhh, okay, don't panic. Describe it to me. What can you see? Pitch black? A blot at the center?"
"It's like black spots all over-" Matthew sniffled, sounding dangerously close to crying, breathing fast as he turned towards Isaiah's voice.
Isaiah readjusted his grip, one arm under Matthew's armpit all around his torso, holding Matt's arm around his neck tighter. "Could be just from standing up and the elevation changing. It will clear out in a few seconds." He stopped adding promises to his sentences, mentally preparing to just call 911 if it didn't.
Matthew gasped for breath as if he was choking, blinking his eyes, then breathed in relief. "It's clearing up again..."
Isaiah didn't let out the deep sigh of relief stuck in his chest, pretending like that was what he expected. "All good now. You are okay. Just a few more steps to the car."
Matthew's grip on Isaiah's sleeve didn't loosen, but he nodded tightly, letting himself be dragged forward.
Isaiah fiddled with finding the car keys, opening the back seat door to slide Matthew inside, door open, in case he needed to vomit some more.
He went to the trunk to locate a water bottle and some plastic bags, crouching down next to Matthew.
"How are you feeling, bud?" Isaiah offered Matthew the water bottle.
Matt took it, but didn't drink, eyes closed, but not squeezing them shut anymore, as if he was afraid it would make his vision blotchy again. "Ughmmmm. Like I'm gonna throw up."
Isaiah rubbed his arm. "I'm sorry."
"Everything-everything's spinning," Matthew belched, gripping the water bottle in his fist, the plastic squeaking under his fingers.
"This is very likely a heatstroke. The headache, the nausea, the dizziness....it will be fine. We'll cool you down, get you some good meds, and it will all go away."
"Uhhhhmmm," Matthew wiggled his hands restlessly in discomfort, bowing his head. "I'm such an idiot. Why didn't I know this could happen? So stupid."
"It's different for everyone. Some can take the heat better than others. You will know what signs to look out for next time. It's okay."
"But I wanted to- wanted to do something on my own for once." Matthew's whole face crumbled. "I didn't want to drag you into it to save me, I wanted to do it on my own-" Matthew sniffled again, breathing picking up and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against the seat in front of him.
Isaiah's chest squeezed, realizing Matthew would be crying if he had the tears to spare.
Isaiah circled the car to climb in from the other side, hand going around Matthew's back to push him against his chest. "Aww, come on, bud. You did everything right. You are meeting new people, you got that new boxing gym...you are putting yourself out there, building a life for yourself outside your shadow, without accidents or fights you don't want. You are doing great."
Matthew let himself get dragged back into Isaiah's lap, breathing still panicked. "L-look how stupid I am. People are supposed to know these things at my age- they-I'm not supposed to be a burden on you, constantly getting sick on you-"
"Hey, hey, hey. Don't talk like that. We all have our own learning curve. You were on your own from such an early age, Matt, it's harder to find out on your own," Isaiah said gently. "Besides, you are not a burden. You are my best friend. I don't mind saving your ass, when you need it."
Matthew snorted despite himself, before taking another shuddering breath. "Seline said- and the points- I don't know if I have enough- if I can help as much as you- you didn't call me and I-" he buried his head against Isaiah's stomach, shaking.
"Points? What points?" Isaiah didn't understand and didn't think this was time to find out. "You are doing enough. It's okay. We love you, of course we would want to help out. Not your fault, when you get sick. It's not a burden."
"It-it is, even you think you-"
"It's not a burden to get sick," Isaiah said firmly, rubbing Matthew's back. "Shhhhh. It's okay."
They sat there for a few minutes, Isaiah rubbing circles to Matthew's back and listening to his breathing hitching as he sniffled and found a slower breathing rhythm, watching out for gagging noises.
"There you go. All better," Isaiah murmured. "You didn't have a family that would look out for you like this. That's why you feel like a burden. It's not your fault, but it's not fair at all for you to feel like that. You get sick and we'll deal with it."
Matthew was lying limply over him, breathing much calmer, though he was still pale and frowning, lips pressed in a thin line.
"Come on, bud, let's get home....I can't drive like this," Isaiah said with a small smile, ranning his fingers through Matthew's hair.
Matthew lifted himself up with a groan, enough for Isaiah to slip from underneath him.
"What if I throw up on the way?" Matthew said quietly, stretched out over the back seats.
"There is a bag right next to you. And if you do, you do. It isn't such a big deal." Isaiah just wanted him home and lying down in a cool place already. The car was getting overheated, standing in full blown sun.
"Uhmmmmm," Matthew moaned as Isaiah got the engine started, a/c on full blast. "If it's no big deal...don't think...you had the right family either...Zaya."
Isaiah's stomach flipped at the words. He swallowed heavily, focusing on backing the car out the parking lot.
@bellysoupset
#emeto#sickfic#emetophilia#brotp#hurt/comofort#bromance#whump#angst#whump writing#my writing#werewolf wip#these two are a classic okay#I love their friendship#Matt
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AITA WIP Intro
Thanks to my pal @writernopal for the tag, which you can view here!
Feel free to ignore and not do if you want, but I'll tag @vmccombs, @moonscribbler, and @charlesjosephwrites! Anyone else who'd like to as well just say I tagged you lol
Rules - Introduce your WIP in the style of an Am I the Asshole? inquiry
Written for my WIP Brim's Bane.
AITA for hiding my condition?
I (20 M) recently have had a health situation come up - it's not genetic. I got it when my boss (65 M) pressured me to go travel to another town even though we were warned of a blizzard. I got stuck in a freaky abandoned place where a bunch of wild animals were and I basically contracted something.
Idk how to tell anyone - I'm scared they'll judge me. I don't even understand my illness much myself. I get sick on a monthly basis and I black out for several hours at a time. When I wake up, I'm in a really weird place (don't ask, don't feel comfortable describing it) and my stomach hurts a lot. I can't explain why but the thought of telling anyone what's happening to me feels scarier than it happening at all.
Nobody knows - not my boss, not my coworkers, not my gf (24 F). My gf knows something's up I think, but idk what to tell her. I've been trying to hide it, but it's taking a toll on my work and relationships. My gf and I got into a fight recently and she said I was being an asshole for avoiding her and hiding things from her, but I'm only doing it because I'm scared of whatever's happening to me.
AITA for lying and hiding my medical condition even though I'm scared of how everyone will react?
#aita wip intro#tag game#writing game#open tag#writeblr#writeblr tag games#my writing#Brim's Bane#Samomsyl#werewolf#horror novella#horror writing#writing#werewolf wip
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find the word tag
tagged by @wildswrites 🐈⬛
my words are: join, warm, lack, safe, and sturdy
miracle of miracles, all of these words appear in the second draft of wolf's tooth ! so all of these excerpts are from a wolf's tooth for revenge !
JOIN
Kirby raises their joined hands to his cheek, inhaling deeply, kissing Raleigh’s knuckles. Once they leave this car, they won’t have another moment alone.
Raleigh bends over to knock their skulls together, and Kirby catches him with a kiss.
WARM
Much later, through the fog of sleep, Raleigh hears Kirby say, “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never seen him like that. Like this. How can I help him?” He sounds heartbroken, and the weight of his tone settles over Raleigh in half-consciousness like a blanket when you’re overly warm; it’s an unignorable discomfort. It drives him to wake.
LACK
It’s well after noon when they park the car, having left the R.V. locked up at a campground some miles back, but Raleigh is bleary-eyed from the lack of sleep regardless. The threadbare curtains that hang across the windows in the trailer don’t dim headlights that flash past while they sleep on the roadside, and sounds seem amplified by the hollow space. Every disturbance in the grass is a footstep, every night sound a warning. Of course, he would be the last to know in the event of a true threat; Raleigh should sleep soundly knowing that his companions are uniquely capable of recognizing such a thing. He finds some peace when he buries his head in Kirby’s side or under his arm, but he rests fitfully at best. So, he unbuckles his seatbelt and sags into his seat until the others have opened their doors and he has to do the same.
SAFE
“We know what you like. Stay safe, and call me if there’s trouble.” Raleigh settles into his seat, letting Kirby lean over him again to look Jacqueline in the face. He is no longer smiling. “If there’s even a chance that we could be compromised, I want a phone call, Jack.”
“Aye-aye.”
“Jack,”
STURDY
The sunroom boasts a curving wall of windows, a rampant arch that spans the height of two stories divided into thick panes of glass. A long bar table stands on the sunroom’s farthest side, laden with pothos and budding crossandras. Though wolves fill this room, occupying all of the furniture and some of the floor, plants lay so thick that nobody could hope to sit on this table. Two grand sofas– the oldest and most delicate of all of the furniture in the Pedersen pack house –meet at an obtuse angle before the table, flanked by side tables that are themselves flanked by sturdy Irving armchairs. These are choked with werewolves, as are the couch in the room’s center and the coffee table it pairs with; the third armchair beside the bookshelf and its corresponding desk. The room most prepared to host still sees deputies sitting on the floor.
i don't know what the fuck i meant when i described that window as rampant , btw
and (no pressure) i will taaaag : @transboywriting @creating-with-words @sarah-sandwich-writes
your words are: blink, star, eat, roll, and lead
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trying to come up with the bad guy's name for my WIP and was struggling so i literally google 'bad guy names' and the first option was Anthrax???
dude thats a disease can you be a bit more obvious?
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werewolves in love <3
#YAAAY YIPPEE WIP FINISHED 800 HEALED 78 RAISED FROM THE DEAD#art#my art#animal art#finished piece#ink#printmaking#relief print#werewolf#werewolves#werewolf art
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guess what music I'm listening to while working on this because ur wrong its steven universe
#artists on tumblr#monster#monster art#horror#horror art#creature design#oc#my art#terat0philliac#terato#teratophillia#werewolf#werewolves#wolf#wip#digital art
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WIP peek at the hugging werewolves ♥
#colors look washed out in some places but not others because a base layer of underglaze has already been fired on!#theyll be fired again then get my usual dark wash + final detail pass. very excited for how theyre coming out !!!#documenting the process as much as i can for yall as well. gonna make a nice detailed post when theyre done#artistic nudity#ceramics#clay#sculpture#animal art#wip#furry#werewolf#anthro#wolf
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[wip]
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Willing Sacrifice
cw: vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, an attempted sacrifice of the reader, non-human genetalia, getting lost in the woods, a monster in heat
male monster x fem reader
Word count: 9k
“You can’t do this to me!” you screamed, knowing it was pointless but too full of anger to care.
“I’m sorry, my dear, it has to be done.” The people you used to call friends tightened your bindings as you struggled and thrashed against them, refusing to go down without a fight.
“It doesn’t!” you protested, unable to understand how they could be alright with doing this. “We can fight or move or anything, I don’t know, anything but this!”
It was futile. As they hurried away, eager to get far away from you and forget about your cries of protest, you wondered how long ago they’d decided on this. When had they decided that you were the one they would sacrifice.
In all honesty, it had probably been a long time ago. It was probably because of exactly this kind of behavior, you absolutely refusing to let this go on. You’d never been alright with any of this, with how they sent people into the forest to die in an attempt to save their own hides. If you’d kept your head down 5 years ago, the last time they’d tried this, odds were you’d be safe at home right now but you hadn’t. You hadn’t been able to stomach it, wracked with grief until you could stand it no longer.
In the middle of the night, praying you were not too late, you ran to this exact stone and removed the restraints, telling the poor girl a few years older than you were now to run to a nearby village and never turn back. They probably wouldn’t even have noticed you’d freed her if they hadn’t caught you on your way back. It didn’t take long to piece it together, your guilty face running from those woods. You’d been kept on a tight leash since then.
For every person that died in those 5 years, every single one, the blame was placed squarely on your back. “Was it worth it?" they’d ask, “All these souls for one person?”
You said yes every time.
And now here you were, after every attempt to get out had failed. You had no real hope that you’d survive this, the odds that there was another quiet savior in your village was nonexistent. You were alone. It was kind of fitting, that you were going to die in the forest that you loved so much, sacrificed to the beast that lived within it.
Every time you heard movement in the trees your memories flashed back to all the horror stories you’d been told about the monster in these woods, how it would tear people limb from limb, leave their bones for people to find.
The further on the night ticked, the less jumpy you got. After hours and hours had passed, the cold and the restraints digging into your skin making your limbs go numb became harder and harder to ignore. One can only wait in terrified apprehension for so long before even the fear becomes monotonous.
You wiggled as much as you could, trying to get blood flow back into your arms and legs. At this rate, even if the creature didn’t kill you, you’d lose your limbs by the end of this. Not that you thought there was any real chance you’d make it out but it was better than just waiting.
As you moved your arms the few inches that you could, you heard something move behind you and you were almost certain that this time, it wasn’t just your imagination. As much as you struggled, you couldn’t turn enough to see what it was, left completely in the dark. However, the deep, echoing footsteps gave you a pretty good guess at what was coming.
You took a deep breath, promising yourself you wouldn’t scream. If you were going to die here, you might as well do it with dignity.
A short huff came from behind you and you could feel hot breath wash over you, making your skin crawl. The air shifted as it moved closer, and you desperately tried to flinch away, despite knowing you couldn’t move.
And then, all of a sudden, you could. Your restraints were ripped open, freeing your arms first and then your legs. You didn’t even take the time to think, immediately throwing yourself from the rock you’d been tied to, desperate to get away. You assumed this was what it wanted, for you to give it a chase, but what other option did you have? You certainly weren’t going to just lay down and die.
As you pushed yourself from the rock, the gravity of the situation set in as your numb and strained arms and legs gave out on you. You collapsed to the ground unceremoniously, letting out a desperate sob as you realized you wouldn’t even be able to attempt an escape. You lay there, crumpled on the ground, racking your brain for anything you could do. So much for going out with dignity.
“Are you an idiot?” The voice that came from behind you was deep, barely above a growl, with something deeply animalistic to it. It set off some instinctual fear in you; the sound alone being enough to make the hairs on your arms stand on end.
You tried to pull yourself back but your traitorous arms and legs wouldn’t allow for it, barely managing to turn yourself enough to see the creature. He was massive, probably seven or eight feet tall, it was hard to tell from the ground. He was standing on two feet, which aided his height. You’d always imagined the beast of these woods on all fours, more animalistic and unspeaking than this. Thick fur covered him head to toe, he looked almost wolfish, with ivory antlers growing out of his head.
Your heart told you to scream and your head told you to try and reason with him but all you managed to blurt out was, “You can talk?”
He plodded over to you, familiar, echoing footsteps approaching you before picking you up from the ground like you weighed nothing. You could feel his sharp claws, not piercing your skin put pressed up against you as he lifted you. You quietly made your peace with your imminent death before he plopped you down again, leaning you against the stone you’d been tied to.
“At least gather your bearings before you try and run again, little idiot.”
No matter how much you tried to calm yourself, your breaths were still coming short and fast. At this rate, even if you could stand you would pass out if you tried to run anywhere, you needed to pull yourself together, as difficult as that was in the presence of a figure you’d had nightmares about for years.
“Is that what you want? For me to give you a chase?” you spat in his direction, trying to sound as frightening as you could while unable to stand properly.
He didn’t even dignify you with a response to your question, which angered you even more. If he was going to kill you, the least he could do was not ignore you first. He glared at you accusationally, as if he had any right to be angry, and snarled, “After the last one wasn’t here, I thought maybe your stupid village was done but you never fail to disappoint me.”
“After the last… I freed her.” You assumed he was talking about his missing sacrifice, the one you’d worked so hard to save at the cost of your own life. You sat up a little straighter at that, proud you’d be able to tell him that you had taken one sacrifice away from him, even if you did end up here yourself. At least you’d have that, a small victory but one you were proud of nonetheless.
His head cocked to the side, looking at you with a newfound interest, actually responding to your words for the first time. “You freed her?”
“To save her from you,” you spat. You could barely look at him, knowing the blood of your friends was on his hands. The only reason you forced yourself to look was to watch his reaction to your little victory. He didn't seem angry, though, more intrigued than anything, if you were reading his face correctly. You dismissed it, you probably just weren’t understanding him properly, you weren’t accustomed to reading wolf-men’s faces anyways.
“Your friends did not need saving from me. Despite what you little parasites seem to think, I have no interest in you, as sacrifices or otherwise.”
You shook your head. “No, that’s not possible, you killed them!”
“That is what you all think, isn’t it. Every death is blamed on me, every attack by a wild creature. You send your own to die here, by my hand, and yet I’m the monster. I’ve done nothing to you but exist near your home.”
That couldn’t be true, this must be some sort of trick or game he was playing with you. “You expect me to believe you?”
He scoffed. “I don’t expect a human to believe anything but their own self-centered worldview.”
“Where are they then?” you shot back, trying to force him to admit to his lie. “Where are all my friends?”
“Do you think they wanted to go back to a people who would send them to die so readily?”
That gave you pause. If you survived this, where would you go? Not home, you knew that much. You would never go back there. Not after what they’d done to you. Why would the others feel any different?
“Are they really alive,” you asked, wincing as your voice cracked, sounding much more pathetic than you’d intended.
The creature’s demeanor softened at your words and you hated him for it, hated the wave of pity you felt from him. You much preferred when he was calling you an idiot, at least you’d felt like his equal then.
“They’re fine,” he said, his voice more level than before, more like a low growl than a roar. “They’ve all moved on, gone elsewhere. You will too, when you remember how to stand.”
Was that where you’d go? Some town somewhere, filled with more people. A village like yours, one you’d have to hope would treat you better. Surround yourself with people who could betray you just as easily? The idea turned your stomach. You didn’t belong there. There was nowhere you belonged now. “There’s no place for me. I’ll stay here.”
The more gentle demeanor the creature had put on for you evaporated. “You will do no such thing, if you stay you’ll die.”
“Because you’ll kill me?”
You could practically feel his frustration. “No, I’m not going to kill you, get that through your thick skull. You won’t survive alone in these woods.”
“There’s no place for me amongst people anymore. I love this forest, if it kills me so be it, I’m not leaving.”
He looked you up and down and you couldn’t help but shrink under his intense gaze. Finally, he broke the silence once more. “You’re really not going to leave, are you?”
You shook your head, already adamant in your position. He buried his head in his hands, clearly frustrated with your decision
After a frustrated growl left his throat, he looked down at you once again and said, “Fine, I’ll show you somewhere you can stay.”
You reeled back. “You’re going to help me?”
“I already told you, I don’t want you dead. It’s just somewhere to protect you from the elements, it’s nothing much. Can you walk yet or do I need to carry you?”
You absolutely would not be allowing that to happen. You began to rise and he shifted closer to you. You realized that he was preparing to catch you if you fell, which only made you more determined to stand. You managed it, although on shaky legs and while leaning on the rock you’d come to hate more than anything in the past few hours.
He seemed to accept that you were able to walk now, despite a few fumbles as you began, your legs slowly regaining feeling, although he never strayed too far from you and you got the distinct feeling he wasn’t sure if you would keel over or not.
He led you to a cave, not far from where you’d been tied up. It was small, he had to duck a little to ensure his antlers didn’t scrape the ceiling, but he was right. It would protect you from the elements, at least that was something. As soon as you entered he was already leaving, clearly not eager to stick around and chat.
You weren’t entirely sure why him leaving upset you. You’d just met the terrifying creature, the one who’d haunted you for so many years, and yet so quickly he had turned to some kind of comfort for you. Without him there, the silence of the forest felt overwhelming.
You laid down on the cold, stone ground, as far from the entrance of the cave as you could get. You weren’t sure how you were going to sleep here but you definitely needed it, emotionally and physically exhausted from the night you’d had. You didn’t need to worry, despite your concerns about being able to fall asleep on the hard ground, your exhaustion rapidly took over.
When you woke up, something heavy was draped across you and you sat up in a panic, feeling smothered. As you got up, you realized it was a fur of some kind, keeping you warm. Next to you and the fur was some food and you quietly thanked the beast you’d been so afraid of the night before.
You saw him on occasion, amongst the trees. He was shockingly stealthy for his size, you could tell how no one had ever managed to get a good look at him. You, however, did manage it. He wasn’t hiding from you anymore, there was no use for it.
Despite his demeanor towards you, he was very helpful. He never admitted to being the one to help you, of course, but when you found supplies around you when you woke up you knew exactly where they were coming from.
The day you’d awoken to the peace offerings from the beast, you’d also awoken to blue and purple marks covering your arms, right where the bindings had been. You found yourself rubbing them absentmindedly, the ache a reminder of your first night here. You almost missed them as they started to fade, the last real tie to your village.
You inspected them thoroughly every night, a better marker of time to you than the days. Tonight, for the first time, they were fully gone. No color or pain remaining, just your arms, as they had been.
“Do you really love the forest?”
You whipped around, unsure as to how you could’ve possibly missed the creature’s entrance. You must’ve been too caught up in your reminiscing. You silently scolded yourself, you couldn’t afford to be that careless. “You’re going to give me a heart attack, warn me first!”
“You should be more aware of your surroundings,” he said, amusement tinging his voice.
“Yes, I love the forest,” you said with a huff, “I told you that already, why are you asking me.”
“Most humans who claim that are more destructive. Why did you save the other sacrifice?”
“Because it’s not right, sending someone to die against their will like that. I couldn’t stand for it, even if it meant me being on that rock. Why are you helping me?” you shot back. This interrogation you’d been unwillingly entered into could go both ways.
You expected him to brush it off, to say something rude and move on, but he considered your words carefully before responding. “I don’t want you to die, despite how much of a death wish you seem to have.”
“I do not have a death wish!” Sure, you’d been reckless, but you thought you’d been doing pretty well, all things considered.
“Perhaps you don’t. Your actions make more sense if you do.”
“I can’t have morals?”
“You can, but strong enough ones to die for?”
Of course they were strong enough for you to die for. The other option was letting an innocent person die, you couldn’t stand for that. “Yes. Seems like that wasn’t in the cards though.”
He shook his head in agreement. “Not in my forest it’s not.”
Your head fell to the side, looking up at him curiously. “Is this your forest?”
“I think so. I keep it safe, maintain it. I don’t own it if that’s what you’re asking.”
It wasn’t. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he owned the forest, that anyone owned the forest. The idea just seemed outlandish to you.
“What’s your name?” It struck you that you hadn’t asked.
“Acacius.”
“Thank you, Acacius, for everything you’ve done for me.”
This seemed to take him by surprise. You couldn’t blame him, you supposed you hadn’t acted very grateful thus far. You were grateful, infinitely so. You weren’t so foolish as to think that you could have survived on your own without him, you were resourceful but not that resourceful, especially not when you’d started exhausted and frightened. Without his quiet aid you would have fulfilled the village’s mission, become a sacrifice to the forest despite Acacius’s initial mercy. “You're welcome, little idiot.”
Before you could manage a retort, he was gone, as quickly and silently as he’d appeared.
You saw more of each other after that. He seemed to have warmed to you in the weeks you’d been here and you enjoyed spending time with him, although neither of you would ever admit it.
As the weeks ticked onwards and the harshest part of winter came, with snow blanketing the ground and temperatures being far below freezing, he just happened to show up more and more often, checking in on you almost daily. And miraculously, more and more pelts kept appearing around your little cave, more than you knew what to with, even in the harsh cold of the winter.
You were convinced that the worst was over. It must be, you couldn’t remember it ever having been this cold before in the village, although admittedly in the past you had been inside next to the warm fireplace for most of those winters, not in a cave covered in animal hides.
The temperatures dropping even further caught you entirely by surprise. You woke up, shivering, hours after your fire had burnt out to feet of new snow outside. You groaned, rubbing your hands together in a desperate bid for warmth so you’d have enough feeling in your hands to restart your fire.
As you tried and failed to warm your hands, you heard a very welcome noise. The plodding of heavy footsteps on newly fallen snow approached you and you turned eagerly to see the staggering figure of your protector.
At the sight of your shivering form you heard a low growl come from him, igniting some instinctual fear in you. You often forgot how imposing he could be, especially when he was upset. You weren’t actually afraid of him, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, but occasionally, something would happen and something in your biology would tell you that you needed to run.
He pushed past you, completely unaware of the effect he was having on you and already set on starting a fire,
“You humans are so fragile,” he called back to you as he busied himself.
You sniffled quietly, refusing to dignify that with a response.
It didn’t take long before the fire was roaring in front of you, far faster than you could’ve managed with your practically numb fingers that still weren’t getting better.
You sat opposite the fire from Acacius, who was watching you carefully as you tucked your hands between your thighs and curled in on yourself, trying to conserve body heat.
“Come here,” he said, beckoning you towards him. You stared back at him, wide eyed and uncertain. He didn’t give you the opportunity to flounder, speaking once more. “You’re cold. Come here.” His tone didn’t leave any room for argument, saying it so matter-of-factly, as if it was the only course of action. You obeyed, shuffling towards him, an uncharacteristic timidness coming over you at the idea of being close to him.
As soon as you were within his reach he pulled you into his side, next to the newly lit fire. Your body went stiff, unsure of what to do with this newfound contact. You’d never actually gotten the chance to touch his fur before, even unmoving against it you could tell how thick and soft it was. Unbidden, your mind conjured the idea of how it would feel to run your hands through it, wondering if anyone had ever done that for him. This did not help how flustered you were, absolutely refusing to move just in case you messed this up somehow.
Acacius seemed to find this deeply amusing, a low chuckle rumbling through his chest. “Relax, little one, I don’t bite.”
This did little to help your nervousness but you managed to relax against him, leaning into his surprisingly warm side, feeling the cold slowly leave you.
“You’re so tense around me.” You could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke, his voice particularly low, making it almost seem as if you were feeling his words instead of hearing them.
It was a fair observation, you were tense around him. You understood why you were at first, you were scared and upset, of course you were going to be on guard against him. He didn’t seem to mind that, he understood your fear and did his best to prove it unwarranted. But as the fear and anger dissipated and you got to know him, that tension remained. You didn’t understand it yourself, let alone well enough to put it into words. There was just something about him, something that made you more conscious of yourself, a thick tension that always hung in the air.
Not that you’d ever say that to him, admit to that tension you didn’t understand and couldn’t quite manage to shake. So you did what you did best, you deflected.
“Of course I’m tense. It’s been quite the adjustment, having to sleep on the cold, hard ground,” you said with a dramatic sigh, trying to keep yourself from giggling.
He was having none of it. “Oh please. With all the furs I’ve given you, you’re sleeping like a princess.”
You continued on, undeterred by his accurate assessment. “And no kitchens, or even houses at all, I think I’ve been doing incredibly well considering everything I’ve had to deal with.”
“Do you always complain this much?” he grumbled.
“When there’s things to complain about I do,” you responded, absolutely refusing to back down.
Then he got quiet and you worried you’d pushed things too far. Just as you opened your mouth to say you were kidding, that you appreciated everything he’d done for you and that you were doing just fine, he started to speak, cutting you off completely. “Things wouldn’t be so difficult for you if you’d just go to another town, where you're meant to be. You’d be happier there.”
Your heart dropped. You knew he was partially right, that things would be easier if you’d just find somewhere new to stay, live like you always had. But happier? “No I wouldn’t. I belong here, I’m not going anywhere.”
“You’re lucky I’m here and willing to take care of you.”
“I am.”
“You are?”
You knew he was just trying to get you to say it aloud. He wasn’t even trying to hide it. But right now, cuddled into his side, feeling more content than you ever had living in that god forsaken village, you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “Yeah, I’m lucky to have you.”
He pulled you closer into him, almost protectively, and you could feel your face heating up. Between his body heat and the fire and whatever emotions you were experiencing right now, at least you didn’t have to worry about being cold anymore. That problem had long since been solved.
You hadn’t realized until now how tired you were. You hadn’t let yourself realize, so focused on other things but now, warm and safe, you found yourself nodding off.
You didn’t know how long you’d been asleep, unwilling to open your eyes and check how light it was. You could tell he was awake beside you, could feel his eyes on you as you avoided opening yours for a little longer, content to remain where you were.
The dripping of the icicles outside indicated a much needed end to the cold. You hoped it wouldn’t be too long, you missed the green of the forest. Although, if this was how you got to sleep when it got this cold, maybe you wanted it to stick around a little longer.
“Spring’s coming, isn’t it?” you said, breaking the silence and slowly opening your eyes. “I’ve always loved spring, all the baby animals around and all the flowers.”
He seemed bashful at the idea, although you couldn’t fathom why. “It’ll be easier for you when the cold’s gone,” he said, avoiding eye contact as if he hadn’t been staring you down moments before.
“Yeah, it’ll be nice and warm again. Do you like the spring? I guess I don’t actually know what most of the seasons are like when you’re actually living out here.”
In a frustrating return to form, he refused to answer your question. “I’ll be gone for a while during the spring, you’ll have to fend for yourself.”
You were sure he hadn’t meant for it to hurt you, to seem like he was pulling away. You were sure he had a good reason, something important he had to attend to. It still felt like a slap in the face. You were tucked into his side, trying to talk with him, to connect with him, and all he could think about was leaving. “Right, okay. I’m sure it’ll be a welcome break. Do you know how long you’ll be gone?”
“Should be no more than a few days, I’m sure you’ll manage.”
You nodded, hoping you looked reassuring, and hoping even more than he cared enough to notice. “I’ll be fine, no need to worry about me.”
It had not been a few days. In fact, it had been almost a week and still there was no sign of Acacius. No matter how many times you told yourself that he was more than capable of handling himself you couldn’t help but worry. As frustrating as he could be, it wasn’t like him to just go missing, to go against his word like this.
Once a week hit, you went looking for him. Not too far, you didn’t want to be away in case he returned, but you started traveling further and farther from your little portion of the woods.
You weren’t good at self-regulating. Every time the little voice in the back of your head said it was time to go home, that you’d strayed too far or that it was getting late, you couldn’t help but push on. Just a little further, just a little longer. What if you were right there, so close just to turn back at exactly the wrong moment.
When you finally did decide to return home, the sun had fully set. You realized your mistake as you tried to make your way back. You were unfamiliar with this part of the woods. In places you’d traveled since you’d arrived here or even back in your time at the village, you could navigate at night easily, but that was well traveled ground. You could find your way through those trees blindfolded if you needed to.
Out here, on the other hand, you barely knew right from left. The moonlight struggled to make it through the branches and the only real thing you had to guide you was the vague memory of how you’d gotten here. Unfortunately, you had decidedly taken at least one wrong turn and were now in entirely new territory.
Your single focus was attempting to get to familiar ground. As soon as you panicked you were done, you just needed to get your bearings and then you could get yourself to safety. As you realized that you’d lost even your sense of direction, your priorities changed. If you continued on, the only thing that would happen was you would get entirely lost and at that point, even daylight might not help you. Your best shot was to find somewhere you could hunker down, stay until the sun came up and you could hopefully find your way back.
As you searched, the only thing you could do was think, stuck going over your mistakes over and over again. Your one task was to keep yourself safe and what had you done? Decided you needed to help and set off straight into danger. It was a stupid mistake, one you hoped you’d live to regret.
Finally, you found a small cave, which would hopefully be your shelter for the night. You were exhausted and you mind was slow with fear and regret and you didn’t think to check it first, not until you heard a low growl.
Something was in here and now it felt cornered. You couldn’t get out of there fast enough. You barely had time to register the noise before a sharp pain shot through your side and you were keeling over. Chaos broke out around you but you couldn’t make any of it out, the panic and the pain in your side clouding your view just as much as the darkness was.
You weren’t sure what eventually knocked you out, if it was blood loss or the shock or something else entirely, all you knew as you fell was that you were certain you wouldn’t be waking up.
But you did, finding yourself somewhere unfamiliar, on dozens of animal pelt laid out below you. Your hand drifted down to the throbbing pain in your side, finding your pulsing wounds wrapped up tight.
Then, a familiar voice echoed off the walls and you felt relief wash through you. “I asked you to stay out of trouble for a little while, was that so difficult?”
“I didn’t almost get eaten by wolves on purpose!” you snapped back, immediately regretting the harsh tone you’d used. He’d saved you and those were the first words you said to him? “No, sorry, I should be thanking you, you saved me again,” you said, biting down your pride. “What even happened? It was hard to tell.”
“You got attacked by some wolves. I almost didn’t get there in time to stop them, they would’ve torn you apart.”
You winced. “It wasn’t their fault, I was stupid and I cornered them.”
“I know it wasn’t. I don’t blame the wolves.”
He blamed you. As he should, it was your fault. You’d been stupid and you’d put yourself in danger and it wasn’t anyone’s fault but your own. “I’m sorry,” you choked out, feeling the sharp pain above your ribs as you spoke.
“You don’t need to apologize. I just… I need you to be more careful. If I wasn’t there…” His body was tense. You could tell, even from here, that he was still ready to fight, even at the memory. “What were you doing out there anyways?”
You wanted to lie, to save your pride and say anything but the truth, but you didn’t. He deserved to know what had happened. “You were gone a long time and I got worried about you, it’s stupid.”
“It’s not stupid. You’re two sweet for your own good, little idiot.”
This time, you felt like you’d earned the nickname, just this once. “I’m lucky you got back when you did, where have you been?”
“Here.” He was still keeping his distance from you, turned away and as far from you as he could be while still being inside the cave.
“What? But you said…”
He remained hunched over in the corner, back to you and keeled over himself. You could tell from the rise and fall of his shoulders that his breathing was slow and heavy and your heart sank. “Are you hurt?”
He responded immediately, his tone final. “I’m fine. You stay there.”
You didn’t think he’d lie about being injured, he respected you more than that. If he’d gotten hurt he would’ve been tending to it, not trying to protect you from a consequence of your actions. So why was he hiding like this, both in this cave for days and even now, standing far away from you, in your presence but still hiding.
It was like he didn’t want to be near you or even look at you. You weren’t sure what had shifted as the seasons had changed, why with the beginning of spring he’d needed to spend some time alone, still here but unwilling to see you, set on staying within the privacy of his own home.
You verbalized your thoughts, trying to make sense of all of it, to piece it together. “So what, you just have a week in spring where you have to…”
Oh.
Oh.
Your hand flew over your mouth as everything clicked into place. A sigh echoed off of the cave walls and you knew he understood what had just occurred to you.
You wanted to tell him it was alright, that he didn’t need to be embarrassed or upset, that he could have told you what was going on.
Instead, the words that came out of your mouth were, “I want to help”
“You have no idea what you’re saying”
“I think I do.”
He stopped and for the first time in this conversation, he fully turned to face you, leering over you. You could see it in his face, he was considering it and as he stared at you, mulling it over, you let out a shaky breath. But then he backed away from you again, leaning fully against the opposite wall and you shrunk in on yourself, unsure if you’d imagined it. “You need to heal.”
“And what are you going to do during that, just sit in the corner the whole time? I’ll be fine, I’m stronger than I look.”
“I’m aware of that, trust me. You need to heal, nothing is happening until you’re no longer actively bleeding.”
It made sense. You couldn’t fault him for it. If you’d been in your right mind you would have said the same thing, but right now you were a cocktail of conflicting emotions and you decided you didn’t particularly care for rational thinking. But you had no real argument to make so all you managed was a little huff.
He seemed to find it more amusing than anything, letting out a soft chuckle as he sank to the floor opposite you, putting his face closer to your eye level. “You know, my heats don’t normally last this long. I think my body registered that I was courting you and it was going well but I don’t know how the timelines of human relationships work, I didn’t want to push you into anything.”
You reeled back. “Hold on, you were courting me?”
He seemed just as confused as you felt. “Of course I was. All the furs I put on you while you were sleeping, and the supplies and food. I held you to keep you warm and you fell asleep on me. Is that not how humans court?”
You shook your head but suddenly you weren’t so sure. He’d brought you gifts and taken care of you and you had fallen asleep on him, perhaps that wasn’t as platonic as you had assumed.
He seemed horrified by the revelation. “You had no idea this was coming. We shouldn’t be doing this, I need to give you time and space, I-”
“No, wait!” You lurched towards him in an attempt to make him stay but instead you doubled over, clutching your side. Immediately he was next to you, making sure you were alright and that you hadn’t reopened your wounds.
As you caught your breath and he ensured you were alright, he started to move away again. Your arm shot out and caught his, silently pleading for him to stay with you. Despite your grip on his arm, you knew that if he wanted to he could pull away, you were no obstacle to him. And yet, he didn’t even try, settling down next to you.
When he sighed this time, you could feel it and you’d never been more grateful for the proximity. “I’ve gone about this all wrong. Why are you so confusing?”
“Were you really courting me?” Your voice was low, as if you were worried you might scare him off if you spoke too loud. You couldn’t keep the grin off your face, no matter how hard you tried.
“Clearly not well enough. How do humans court people?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know, weird ways.
“What ways?”
You struggled to find a way to explain it. “So men will…” your sentence was caught off by a fit of giggles. “Men will like… they’ll give your father a goat. Or other stuff that’s worth stuff. And then you marry them.” You couldn’t stop laughing, it sounded so absurd when you explained it aloud.
Acacius did not seem any more convinced of the legitimacy of these methods. “So you’re not involved in this at all? Are you sure they’re not courting your father?”
“No, that would make too much sense. Noone wanted to pay my dowry because they thought I was mad, freeing sacrifices and running around in the woods. If only they could see me now.” Another fit of giggles overtook you and you buried your face in Acacius's fur. As you did you felt a low growl rumble through him, drawing another smile out of you. “I prefer your way.”
“Your presence is making it worse, you know. I haven’t felt this way, haven’t felt this much, in a long time. I can barely think.”
That probably shouldn’t stroke your ego as much as it did. “Then stop thinking.”
“I’ll stop thinking when you can stand properly, how does that sound?”
To be honest, it didn’t sound ideal but you had a feeling it was the best deal you were going to get.
Two more days. That’s how long getting better apparently took. At the end of the next day, you proudly showed him that you could walk and even jog just fine, that you were all healed up and still it wasn’t enough for him.
He was supposed to be the one in heat so you didn’t think it made any sense that you were this desperate, desperate for anything. Every time he’d say you needed to heal more, that he wouldn’t risk hurting you. None of your arguments managed to sway him.
That didn’t stop you from arguing, far from it. It felt like there was endless bickering between the two of you but in your defense, you were being kept inside and you were bored and desperate and definitely healed enough.
So on the second day of being forced to sit around for hours on end, you decide to try once more.
“You know, it barely even hurts anymore.”
“You can barely move without wincing,” he said, which while fair, didn’t feel entirely relevant to you right now.
You rolled your eyes. “I’m just being dramatic, don’t worry so much. I feel fine.”
He walked over to you, towering over you, and you prepared to be told off once more.
“Strip.”
Your voice immediately lost all its confidence. “What?”
“You want to do this so badly, so strip.”
At a loss for words, you did what you were told, pulling off your clothes under his quiet attention, doing your best to not become self conscious. Soon you were covered only by the bandages wrapped over your ribs and your arms that you folded over yourself, feeling exposed and uncertain, in entirely new territory.
Acacius stepped closer and pulled your arms away from your chest, a pleased noise escaping him as you allowed him to move you with no resistance. As soon as you weren’t covering yourself anymore, his attention shifted down to your bandages and you wanted to scream. Was that really the most important thing right now?
His hand ghosted over them, inspecting them carefully. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
You nodded eagerly, words still seeming a bit difficult at the moment.
Concern still wracked his features but as he stared at you, chest heaving up and down, you could tell his patience had finally run out.
“Alright, lay down.”
You followed his orders, reclining on the furs that were sprawled across the floor while he remained where he stood, staring down at you. Normally if he bossed around like this you would have given him hell, but right now you appreciated the commands. You weren’t sure you could manage a coherent thought if you’d tried, with two days of working yourself up behind you.
“I can’t, I have…” he nodded towards his clawed hands, the ones he’d always been so careful about around you. “I need you to help me open you up, can you do that?”
You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as you did.
Slowly, you pushed two fingers inside you. His intense gaze fell on you, unwavering, watching your entrance, eyes darting up to your face as you gasped when you hit a particularly sensitive spot. Your eyes locked and you felt yourself clench around your fingers, perfectly content to just lie there, touching yourself as he watched until you remembered your mission and started scissoring yourself open.
You felt so small under his gaze. There was always quite the size difference but you’d never felt it as much as you did right now.
You knew he could see how wet you were. It must be obvious, even from where he stood. You pushed another finger inside, set on opening yourself up as quickly as you could. You whined as you did. It still didn’t feel like enough, you needed more. You needed him.
Caught up in your frustration, you didn’t even notice him approaching you until you felt him, leaning over you. You immediately grabbed at him, hands leaving yourself and rooting themselves in his fur in an attempt to pull him towards you. “So impatient, little one,” he muttered, and for a moment you were worried he was going to keep teasing you.
He was so much bigger than you, leaving you to bury your face in his chest as he lined himself up, his head far above yours. You could feel his tip pressing up against you and if you hadn’t been so worked up, you might’ve thought that you should’ve worked yourself open for longer, this was going to be quite the stretch. You weren’t even sure if it would fit, desperately praying it would.
He waited at your entrance, giving you a chance to protest as you felt him but instead, you bucked your hips, your desperation only growing. Finally, he started to push in. Your arms flew around him. He shushed you in his low, rumbling voice as he paused for a moment to let you adjust to the stretch. You focused on breathing, trying to match your breaths to the slow, steady rise and fall of Acacius’s chest. He seemed better at controlling his breathing than you, clearly measuring his breaths in an attempt to maintain his control and composure as he entered you, which were two things you couldn’t seem to manage right now. It didn’t take long before you grew restless again, letting out a pathetic whine, a noise that you never would have imagined you’d make.
A low chuckle rumbled through his chest at your impatience so you decided to take things into your own hands, pushing downward to get more of him inside of you, that stretch returning almost immediately. You heard him hiss above you, his hips locked into place, and you realized he was putting all his energy into controlling himself, into not giving into his instincts and just rutting into you.
Part of you wanted him to.
“You need to be more patient,” he said, through what sounded like gritted teeth.
Any other day you’d have shot something snarky back but right now, you were too far gone. All you could manage was whimpering out, “Need you.”
That was enough to make him start up again, set on stretching you out, making it so you could take all of him. It felt like it would never end. Finally, his hips were flush with yours and he stopped, panting and letting you adjust. Your hand creeped down to your stomach, trying to confirm your suspicion. As it landed on your lower stomach you felt him, inside of you, pushing at your walls so hard you could feel it from the outside.
He felt it too, as you touched it he groaned and you could feel his restraint wearing thin. Good.
“Are you alright?” he asked, his voice dripping with genuine care. You knew that if you showed any sign of discomfort that he would stop immediately,
You nodded into his chest,
“Can I move?”
“Please.” Your voice was wracked with desperation. The days of anticipation already had you worked up, you needed him.
He didn’t require any more convincing, pulling out to rut back inside, earning a cry from you as he reached deeper inside you than you even knew was possible. It wasn’t a hard thrust and you knew he was getting you used to it, making sure he didn’t overwhelm you, but still it felt like he was splitting you in two. Somehow, every thrust felt like it was going deeper, him pushing harder and harder every time. Your hand dropped to rub your clit, desperately chasing your high as he started to use you in earnest, chasing his.
He pulled you closer to him, your chest flush against his as he thrusted into you. It seemed like he couldn’t get close enough to you, like even while he was inside you needed more. Your hands knotted themselves in his fur, both aiding him in his efforts to bring the two of you ever closer and giving you something to hold onto as everything became rapidly overwhelming.
The way you clung to him only seemed to spur him on. The way you were holding desperately to him as he ruined you, both overwhelming you entirely and bringing you comfort. The way you trusted him entirely, were giving all of yourself over to him and still trying to draw him closer. You could tell it was driving him crazy, both his instincts and his heart pleased by your behavior.
The longer it went, the more it seemed like he was losing control, measured thrusts turning into something much more primal. He was letting his instincts take control. His words of praise, telling you how well you were doing, had faded out, replaced by grunts and growls as he hammered into you.
At a particularly hard thrust, you let out a choked sob, a coil winding in your stomach as he rutted into you endlessly, focused on marking you, on making you his.
You could feel it coming, feel yourself tightening around him as he pounded into you. Your fist tightened in his fur, giving you something to grab as you found your release. You gasped his name, barely even aware of what you were doing, unable to focus on anything but the white hot pleasure that was ripping through you.
Even this didn’t deter him, his thrusts made even easier by the new wave of wetness that had coated him as he desperately chased his own pleasure, pushing you through yours. Now that you'd come, that he was sure he’d made you feel good, something in him snapped, fucking you harder than you would have imagined possible.
You were certain he was close, that he just needed one last push. Unable to move in his tight, protective grasp, all you could do was speak, choking out the words, “please… need you,” through the haze of sensation. His movement stuttered and you clenched around him again, pushing him over the edge as he gave you exactly what you’d asked for. You could feel him come, painting your insides as he held you close to him, his thrusts slowing.
Even as he finished, he didn’t pull out of you, insead wrapping his arm around your waist and flipping the both of you around, leaving you resting on his chest. You still felt full, him seated inside you. You wondered if this was part of his mating instinct, a bid to try and get you pregnant even if you both knew that wasn’t possible, at least not between the two of you. Or maybe he just liked being inside of you and the closeness it brought. Either way, you weren’t complaining, feeling satisfied and full and frankly, exhausted.
“Please stay,” he asked, his voice low and hoarse, and you knew he wasn’t just talking about you spending the night here.
“Of course. I told you the first time we met, I’m not going anywhere.”
This seemed to satisfy him, his hold on you loosening slightly so you could get comfortable, snuggling into him as you got ready to succumb to your exhaustion. You managed a muffled, “You’re warm,” still not feeling completely coherent. You were sure you wouldn’t be able to stand if you tried, your legs feeling wobbly already, even as you just layed there, and for the first time, you didn’t mind it.
You could feel him chuckle to himself, the laugh sending vibrations through his chest. “Will you stop complaining about sleeping on the ground now?”
You murmured happily into his chest. If this was where your complaining had gotten you, you considered it quite the success. “As long as you keep letting me sleep here, with you.”
“I think I can manage that.”
#terato#terato writing#teratophillia#monster x reader#monster x human#monster boyfriend#monster bf#my writing#I love the human doesn’t understand they’re being courted trope#Also Irl wolves snuggle to court one another which is adorable#Ofc im gonna make my forest god do that too#the monster started as a werewolf when I was plotting and then shifted into a sort of forest god#I want to do some more shorter stuff with these two if I’m honest#More for the WIP pile ig lol
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Happy holidays to you all, here’s a little preview on my Wolf!Heart AU and you can have a read of the premise in my previous post here 😉
Shar’s blessings upon you all this season!
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Sol, from the sickfic prompts, can I have Isaiah + "Can you please come home? I feel really bad…" where he's the one saying this? I wonder how bad things would have to be for him to admit needing others?
Feverish and stubborn
"Are you sure you don't want to come with me?" Matthew asked for the umpteenth time that morning.
Isaiah smiled at his insistence, internally cringing. He wanted Matthew safely gone so he could collapse in peace.
He had been feeling off since morning. Some kind of exhaustion, making him feel heavy to the bones and tired. Truly, he just needed sleep. He slept only a few hours every day, too busy and fascinated by some kind of assignment or homework or getting calls about lost pups, angry pack representative doing this or that. If he didn't get a job, that part of his life would swallow him whole.
Matthew eyed him suspiciously. "The pack is super friendly and they specialize in that human fighting thing without shadows, that you approve so much. They wouldn't mind me bringing you over."
Seline was at her parents during the weekend and Matthew had a guilty look on for leaving Isaiah alone as well, for a boxing meet between wolves. Isaiah was happy for him. Matt was finding his niche, friends through his interests. His confidence would grow from it, Isaiah was sure.
"I'm sure. I have homework to catch up to and I do not mind being alone. I have been living that way for the last 6 years, in fact."
Matthew bit his lip, scanning him one last time. "I'll text you the address in case you change your mind."
Isaiah rolled his eyes. "Shoo. Go already."
Matthew grinned sheepishly, threw his bag over his shoulder and left.
Finally.
Isaiah dropped the happy mask at once, sitting down on the couch. He just felt so tired. Huddling into the blanket where he sat, not pressed to go hide in his room or pretend to function at 8 am, he lied down right there, quickly asleep.
***
Isaiah woke up 3 hours later to violent shivers through his body. He was freaking freezing. His hands and legs were frozen solid, he was trembling under the blanket. Even his nose was stinging from the cold. Did he leave the windows open or something?
He wiggled his head towards the clock and the windows and the balcony but everything was shut. Maybe he should get under the covers, they were thicker, but the idea of leaving the little warmth he had under the blanket made him curl up into it.
He would need to make a run for it, but he needed to gather his strength first.
It was only after that ridiculous thought that it struck him he must be feverish. The only logical explanation.
He shivered some more, mentally playing the short walk to his bed for five times, before finally standing up. Blanket still around his shoulders, he wanted to dash to the bedroom, except his bones felt like someone filled them with broken glass. He felt fragile, unsteady, like he was about to bend over and collapse on his feet. Ow.
Finding his slippers, he made his way to the bathroom instead, taking the big bathrobe against the cold. He leaned against the sink, daring a peek at himself.
Yeah. He was pasty white, giant circles under his eyes like he didn't sleep for weeks instead of the last few hours, and he sweated through his shirt, although he was still shivering.
He was also feeling vaguely nauseous. Not sure if it was from not eating or from the fever or because this flu came with a stomach bonus.
How annoying.
Isaiah felt a little better in the bathrobe, so he devised a plan of not having to get up again for the next two days.
He gathered a jar filled with water, a glass, biscuits, thermometer, some pills and a basin for good measure. He didn't eat much for dinner and nothing for breakfast, he was empty, but his stomach felt tense and sore. Better not risk it.
With his supplies steady on his nightstand, he hunted down thick woolen socks and new PJs. Closing the curtains on the window to not be bothered by the sun, he changed and climbed into his bed with the bathrobe on. No harm done, he would sleep this off.
He took his temperature. 38.4. Yeah, maybe the ibuprofen wouldn't be a bad idea. He took half a biscuit, grimacing at the taste before he took the ibuprofen against the fever and dived under the blankets in relief.
He was shaking until he warmed up the air underneath the covers, but he felt proud of himself for being responsible and sweating this out like an adult.
***
Three more hours later, Isaiah was ready to be better already.
The thermometer showed 39.5 as if the ibuprofen didn't help at all and he was constantly shivering like he was exposed to the Antarctic air.
Not to mention he was starting to feel really nauseous from the fever. His stomach didn't hurt or protest another medication, so he could tell the fever was doing it. The nausea was a slimy presence at the back of his throat, around his teeth and jaw. He took deep breaths against it, shutting his eyes, trying to relax and will himself to sleep.
When he closed them though, all he could see were images of his work as the Executioner or his Father's voice admonishing other pups that wolves didn't get sick. Yeah, getting sick was a luxury. Taking a day off, being able to stay in bed, being able to be so open about it. Isaiah had all the luxury now, so he should be fine. Nothing to complain about.
Other times, his feverish brain made a list of people he would have liked to be here if he dared to call them. Sonny saw him sick from time to time and always knew what to do. Very matter of fact mature presence.
Arnie would probably come if Isaiah asked. Would bring him medicine and worry for him, talk his ear off into sleep so Isaiah wouldn't have to hear his own buzzing thoughts.
Matthew and Seline would come. Matt wouldn't know what to do, but he would be adorable in his efforts. He would probably sit beside him in bed, turn on some Netflix show on their TV in the room and wake him up with exclamations when something funny or angering happened in them.
He dreamed about Seline saying he was okay, keeping track of his temperature and calling him something nice, like darling or sweetheart. The idea made Isaiah sniffle, curling into himself under the covers. How pathetic was he, to imagine something like that?
The fever must be making him delusional. To imagine it would demand his roomates to be here, when he was a completely normal functioning adult who could handle a little fever.
It was a very rude one at that, not wanting to climb under 39.3, even after the second dose of medication.
Isaiah made himself drink some of the water, which made him reach for the basin and gag over it for a cruelly long time, but nothing came up. He curled up around it, breathing harshly as he drifted back to sleep.
***
Next time he woke up to the feeling of liquid in his throat.
Isaiah shot to towards the basin immediately, gagging over it, before a few drop of blood fell on the surface instead.
His nose was bleeding, that's what he could taste at the back of his throat.
Ah damn, he had no paper towels on the night stands. What a stupid thing to forget.
His heart was also beating really fast. Isaiah turned to lie on his back, pinching the bridge of his nose. The nausea was drowning him, his heart thumped painfully against his ribs, the only force left in his body and he was going to make a mess on his sheets with the nosebleed.
For some reason the last part made him want to cry.
He was so glad he was sick with something else but his heart episodes for a change and now the fever might initiate one for him. Or was the nosebleed from the fever?
The more he lied there, the stronger the blood was running, flowing freely down his face and throat. He felt like he was choking on it.
He heaved over the bucket at the taste again, strained over it with no relief for several minutes, face all wet and slimy from the red liquid.
Isaiah slid down from the bed, the basin and covers in his lap. The shivers doubled immediately. He hugged himself, rocking back and forth. He couldn't remember when was the last time he felt so rotten. And if he didn't calm down, he would cause himself a heart episode no less.
Feeling utterly pathetic and ashamed, he reached for his phone, dialing the number he had been craving for the whole day.
Seline picked up on the second ring. "Isaiah, hey!"
Isaiah cringed, the joy in her voice when she said his name squeezing his chest in longing. "H-hey...."
"I was just telling my mom about the theater show we were going to? If we like it, I could get them tickets and next time we could- Isaiah? Is something wrong?"
He could hear voices in the backround, a female and a male and Seline answering something back in Slovak.
"I just..." Isaiah sniffled against the blood clogging his nose, cupping his hand over it to catch some of the mess. "I'm sorry, I..."
"Wait, hold up a sec." The noise of a chair being pushed back as Seline got up and left the kitchen. "Isaiah, talk to me. What's going on? Is everything okay?"
"I'm sorry. C-can you please come home? I feel really bad..." He hated what he was asking. She was an hour away by train, enjoying her weekend with her parents and he was calling for her like a child.
"Oh sweetheart," Seline voice dropped to lowest, sweetest, softest coo. "I'm on my way, okay? Dad will take me to the station, it's 4.30 right now...that means the train at 5.15 should be doable by car...I'll be there at 6.15...Anything I can bring you? What's wrong exactly?"
Isaiah sniffed pitifully. "I don't...I- it's just the fever won't go down and I feel sick and now there is blood everywhere-"
"Blood? What do you mean blood?" She said in alarm.
"'s nothing, just my nose is bleeding for some reason."
"Okay, okay, okay. Everything is going to be fine, you hear? I'll be there as fast as I can."
***
Isaiah woke up on the floor, throat and nose clogged up with dried blood, covers and bathrobe covered in it, shivering and sweaty.
None of that mattered, because he was greeted by the nicest sight he could wish for.
Seline was crouching next to him, jacket half open, frowning in concern.
Isaiah looked at the watch. 5.30 pm. "You made it early," he croaked.
"Dad drove me all the way here. Better than the trains." Seline cupped his cheek with her hand, lifting his face towards her to study him.
"Is he still here? I should-"
"You should nothing," she interrupted sternly. "The nosebleed stopped? Can you get up on the bed?"
"No...I'll make a mess like this." He pointed at his face.
"Is that why you are on the floor? Honey, the sheets can be washed, that's not a reason for you to sleep on the carpet."
Isaiah focused in her voice. She still changed the pet names frequently, like she couldn't settle on her favourite one. He loved it.
Seline's hands on his face felt divine, even though they were way too cold. He shivered under her touch, breath hitching.
"Okay, arm up. We will take your temperature, while I get something to clean you up with, alright?" She put the thermometer under his arm, kissing him on the forehead before leaving.
Isaiah closed his eyes, shivering under the sudden heaviness of her absence.
"Okay, come on, sweetie. Back in the bed." She was really insistent on that, huh?
Seline grabbed his arm and pulled and he followed, standing up and then falling back on the bed with a moan.
"What is it?" Seline sat down next to him with a wet towel and a bunch of those soft paper towels for colds.
"Ugghh. My skin hurts."
"Your skin?"
"Yeah. It's like broken glass all over," he whined.
Seline shook her head. "Your fever is super high, I can tell all the way from here. It's okay. It will pass." She took the towel and started to clean the dried blood on his face.
Isaiah winced at the coldness, but she was so gentle, he couldn't protest.
"I got you all the good stuff. Best rehydration drink ever," she said with a small smile, taking his thermometer, scowling at it without comment, and putting it away.
"I feel nauseous. Not sure I can drink," he said tiredly, closing his eyes. It wasn't his concern anymore. She could decide what he could and couldn't do.
"Just a few spoons, okay? It will really help with the fever. There. Face all clean. It really bled a lot, huh?" Isaiah didn't dare to glance at the ruined towel, but the wet skin left in its wake was stinging with cold. The feeling of cleanness comforted him.
Seline put another, bigger towel soaked in cold water around his forehead and neck. He hissed at the touch, but she took his hand in hers. "I know, I know. But this will help, darling. Please, trust me."
He squeezed her hand back, propped up on the pillows and closed his eyes.
"Open your mouth, sweetie."
Isaiah squinted at her. She really sat there with a mug of transparent liquid in her lap and was offering him a spoon of that salty smelling water.
He sighed but obeyed, letting her spoon feed him four times, before he pressed his lips together as he waited for his stomach's reaction. It sloshed angrily inside him, a cramp making him double over.
Seline's hand was cupping him his face immediately, her lips on his forehead murmuring something into his ear.
He breathed harshly, melting against the contact, then curled up at his side. "No more."
"Okay. That's enough for now. Such a good job. You will be up and about in no time."
Seline put the mug away, patting his face, readjusting the cold towel on his forehead, before standing up.
"Sel?" He whined, afraid she would leave. "Stay? Please?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
She cluttered with some of the things on his bedside table, before switching off the lamp and climbing into the bed beside him.
He shifted closer on his side, and she pressed herself against his back, arm around his chest. He took the hand in his, curling it against his heart like a talisman.
"It's beating really fast," she said softly.
"Hmmm. I'm sorry."
"Why are you apologising?" She said in disbelief, voice going higher with emotion.
Isaiah's throat closed up. "I'm sorry I called, I-"
She lifted herself up to loom over him. "You can always call me. I'm glad you called me." Her voice suddenly grew more heated. "No, in fact, you have to call me, when you feel bad like this. How long has this been going on? Why were you alone and not telling me sooner?"
Isaiah blinked in the dark, taken aback.
"When you get better, I'm gonna kill you, you hear? You feel off or like you are coming down with something, you are supposed to tell me before you black out from a fever with a nosebleed. You tell me immediately. I don't care if I'm on the other side of Europe, I'll come."
Isaiah swallowed, eyes burning, heart somewhere in his throat. "I didn't want to be a both-"
"I forbid you from having such thoughts," she said indignantly. "You are never a bother. You matter to me, Isaiah, do you understand that? When you are hurting in secret, alone, away from me, you are hurting me. You want to let me bleed out by not telling me of the wound?"
Isaiah didn't know what to say to that, eyes wide in the dark.
"You don't have to toughen it out," she said more gently, palm on his cheek, caressing it with one finger. "Let me take care of you. It's the least you can do, when part of me is hurting there with you."
Isaiah took in a shaky breath, chest hurting from her words. It hurt, it hurt to face such proclamations, such absolute belief they were true. "You are so bossy," he said, voice wavering on a sob.
Seline pressed herself closer to him still, spooning him, tangling their legs together. "Shhhhh. Yeah. You better get used to it."
#sickfic#whump writing#feverish#fever#fever whump#my writing#werewolf wip#thank you so much for the idea :D#Isaiah
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WIP Wednesday
Continuing my work on Brim's Bane, I've been slowly rewriting a chapter and added an entirely new scene now to the novella. Here is a sample of it below.
#WIP Wednesday#Brim's Bane#horror novel#novella#WIP#writeblr#writing community#writers on tumblr#writers#writing#writing WIP#werewolf WIP#werewolf#writing excerpt
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'Remember that time I died for thirty seconds?' Those words-- hell, the simple implication of those words in a pointed silence --got Raleigh anything. 'Remember that time your husband decided he didn't want a son who lived to saddle him with hospital bills? Remember when you abandoned me to mourn your marriage when half of my bones were broken and I couldn't fend for myself?' Raleigh shot her a look when he mentioned staying the night at Ruby Morrison's house or taking a ride out to Portland for the weekend. Once for an unfortunate In Mary's Name concert where the designated driver had slipped Raleigh his drink tickets and left him to stumble around the venue utterly pissed until he found himself on the sidewalk outside with his head crushed between his knees and a street hotdog cooling in a rank puddle on the concrete between his shoes.
When he'd caught her at the refrigerator in the dead of night and said 'I'm bringing a boy home,' she could see the old rejoinder before it ever reached his lips. She was so good about that one that he later wondered if he'd even needed to think it-- 'you need to be okay with that because you owe me'. His mother had pulled him close to her body and told him that she trusted him to make good decisions. He couldn't really do anything but cry into her shoulder, after that.
Werewolves, though? The specter of child neglect past may not be enough to ease that particular rock of the boat.
#or#werewolf wip#fantasy wip#awtfr#child death ment /#cw vomit /#idk what this is i thought of it in the bathroom#also that's not a real band . afaik#its a liiiittle melodramatic. but raleigh can have little a emotional manipulation as a treat
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‼‼ SUGGESTIVE THEMES BELOW THE CUT‼‼
A midnight snack...🌕🐺
Something from a while ago (like....almost a year???) with Lowell and Selene but inspired by THAT werewolf scene from Dracula....was too chicken to post the whole thing and I pray Tumblr dont get mad at me for this lol
#WIP : those red nights#werewolf#monster romance#monster fucker#monster boyfriend#monster lover#monster fudger#werewolf wednesday#werewolf lover#werewolf fucker
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still working on getting a clean print of this but for now you can see the printing block :] werewolves in love
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heard you like werewolves? 🌙
(wip werewolf sculpt, final product will be a mask!)
#artists on tumblr#monster#monster art#horror#horror art#creature design#my art#terat0philliac#terato#teratophillia#werewolf#dog#wolf#sculpture#clay sculpting#sculpt#wip
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