Werewolf Oc X Reader - Blog Posts

Aphla_Werewolf_[Lucas]_×_male_reader_

Good boy~

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</T|W> slight dub-con or no explicitly stated consent, senting, a/b/o style rut, edging, riding, multiple rounds, depiction of slight injuries, and thier healing.

</C|W> Smutt this time :p, bottom oc werewolf, top amab reader,

Lucas had come in with a dislocated shoulder and some nasty scrapes. Come to think of it, a lot of the wolves had been showing up with these kind of scuff marks.

You didn't really ask. Just patched them up, but if someone would know and wouldn't care that, it's you asking. It would be Lucas.

As you lifted his wrist, warned him of the pain, with a flat palm against his collar bone just over the dislocated socket. A quick shove and slight twist of his wrist had the joint back in place if a little sore.

His breath hitches with the movement, and he holds onto the coat you use with treating wounds. His hands cramping as he grips onto the stained fabric, holding you there to ride out the pain with his forehead resting gently on your sternim. The puffing breaths shifted the loose shirt under him while you ready the disinfectant over his shoulder.

That's another thing the wolves have taken to. Touch.

Any of the 'pack' as you call them would negate any distance and practically beg you for some form of skin contact. You weren't sure why, but you knew that's how familial relationships are stabilized.

Lucas was the only one to hold on. Or hold you there. Every other wolf would just brush up against you and then let you step back.

"You know."

He looked up at you, his chin resting on your sternum. Eyes looking a little to dilated for the adrenaline drop he should be in now.

"I've seen your groupies more often this week."

"Sorry." His arms wind tighter round ypur waist. Not even pouting about the name-calling. "Lots of the pups are going through the 'fight for my mate' phase of growing up."

"Thought that was just a wives tail."

"Nope very real."

"And they need some big strong Alpha to break it up?"

This odd rumble vibrates against your chest. It's almost enough to distract you from patching his spine up.

"I'm more to stop the ones that go past just play fighting."

"I need to clean your neck. And well, the other cuts." You pause when those same dark eyes flicker up to you. Clearly, you weren't clear enough.

"You need to move, so I can help you."

"Help sounds nice."

"Yes so move"

Lucas only shuffles back, unlooping his arms but still holding on to you. Forcing you to kneel down so you could actually clean and tape the wounds he came here for.

Those ink filled eyes still stare as you start on the cuts along his ribs and chest. Hardly flinching when the antiseptic cuts through the dried blood, and you have to push against him to stop the renewed bleeding. His pupils almost seem blown, and the scientist in you wonders if this fight for a mate actually releases a hormorn that keeps his eyes like that.

It's almost like he's looking at the prize of the fights that's been happening. Well, you haven't seen any of the disputes, displays, whatever they really are. So you can speculate their use.

"All done," with a pat to his chest, to pull his attention back from the dazed look he has. "Anything else? Or are there more."

"I don't know. I don't think you're done."

"What? Did I miss anything?"

"Yeah,"

Lucas smirks, leaning back on his hands. Shirt right there at the end of the table, but he refuses to put it on.

"I need a kiss to make it better"

Red flushes all through your neck and up your ears, eyes going wide. This was just a joke right?

But you leaned down, hovering just a breath from him. It was almost serene. Just standing there in the cold open room, this thick emotion hanging off the air between you and him.

Lucas was the one to break the quiet moment.

The split skin of his lip was near sharp as he kissed you, just a soft press at first. But then you lean up against him. Feeling every breath he took with the rise or fall of his chest against yours. His skin radiating heat like a furnace.

Those ruff hands gliding up, under your work coat to trace your jaw and settle along your neck. That same rumbling noise vibrating agaisnt you as he growls.

Some wolves can growl as a sign of playfulness, a fake growl for lack of a better term. It's more a tease or verbal invite to play. And he keeps growling as he pulls you impossibly closer. Arching up into you, just to grumble louder.

The old and ratty matris you use for the more hurt patients, bending under your weight. Lucas opens his eyes to stare at you with a golden ring, elipsing lust blown pupils. Fangs nip ever so softly over your lips and toungs, with soothing kisses placed after the harder nicks.

Must be the full moon looming to rise at the end of the week, amoslt two days of hyper wolves apparently now fighting to prove their love.

As if sensing your distraction, Lucas hauls you up, dropping you beneath him. Those ruff hands are still tracing any link to skin it can find along any gap between your waist and shirt. Happily feeling over the scars he watched you patch up. Panting down your throat between taking your breath away with each searing kiss.

Straddling your thighs, striping your jacket, and shirt with rushed movements. Leading your own hands to his skin, begging in all but words for you to touch. Careful of the buises, you hear those playful growls start up. Now you can feel it vibrate in his chest against yours.

The air around you in this old place warming with each brush of hands, or roll of hips. It's burning this feeling of lust deeper into your soul than you thought would still be possible.

He's careful of the claws dawning his fingers when tracing the skin under your belt. Easily catching on the fabric and forcing you to detangle him from it.

When you've both shed the last layers, you start to realize why his pack mates jokingly call him Alpha.

All it takes is one slip of your fingers over his waist, against his spine, and he's practically presenting for you. Back dropping down so he could roll his ass back into your hands.

"Please."

Lucas laps his ruff tongue over your throat. Chasing the beating pulse thundering away under it, a thick fur scratching at your thighs.

Seems he's partially shifted. Ears replaced by his canine form, tail flopping over your knuckles as you need the muscle under it. But..

There was this. Fairy tail, of sorts.

It was some girl who would brag about her partners in bed. But if what she says is true.

"Hmm, that feels good."

Bingo.

"You're very good at this."

His tail does wag when complemented. Good to know.

It's just the simple sway the end, but maybe.

There's a simple lubricant in the top draw, and an audible thumping follows your breach of him. It's almost distracting, but none the less adorable.

With your dick now fucking up into him, rendering his mind completely blank besides those breathless little noises that he can't seem to keep in.

All it takes is him rolling his hips back into you for it to finally gain a rhythm. And for you to say,

"Fuck. You feel amazing."

The sudden moan and long whimper had almost worried you, and yet he clamped up like a vice. His dick jumping in time with his heart rate so, so close.

One hand on his throat, and the other rubbing along the base of his tail, you methodically take him apart. Finding every spot that makes his gasp, every angle that makes his back draw tight or mouth hang open, every place to scratch raised red marks, suck darling bruises. All of it.

You keep him lost in the pleasure but never enough to cum, even when hes close its easy to pull at his hair, scratch at his hips, to keep him feeling good. But not enough.

Right when you know you have him on the edge, right when you know he's desperate enough to listen.

"Good boy"

Lucas practically locks up. His orgasm rushed through him without any warning, his own cum dripping past his jaw and neck. Breath ragged, although he can't be to worn out.

As his tail still thumps against the inside of your thigh. Eyes practically glazed over before he started moving again.

"Just like that." You comand into his ear, watching it flick with the ghost of your breath against it, "good boy~"