Kinktober Day 4: Monster lover
Overwatch, reaper76. Werewolf/hunter AU. Warnings for knotting and…is it bestiality when the werewolf is sentient?
Figured I would fill a prompt on the reaper76 kinkmeme while I was at it.
***
“Hunter, hm?” The low, rough voice echoes from the thick shadows under the trees. It sounds like words shaped around a wolf’s growl; surprisingly pleasant, not that Jack is here for aesthetics. “Sexy. But you’ve got the wrong guy.”
Jack prowls slowly, sword in one hand and pistol in the other, eyes fixed unfocused on the murk so he can survey the maximum field of view for any twitch of movement. “Can’t say I care. I get paid to hunt monsters, not to put them on trial.”
The voice laughs. “Fair enough. Well, then I guess you’ll have to catch me if you can. If I don’t catch you first.”
There’s a flash of movement between two trees, darting away and sinking to the ground as it goes. Jack narrows his eyes and gives chase.
Hunting a werewolf—especially a werewolf that knows you’re on its tail—isn’t a feat counted in hours. They’re as intelligent as men, and in fact without some clue, it’s perfectly possible to walk past a werewolf in human form without realizing you’re nodding hello to your prey. This one is cocky. He’s revealed his human voice, and considering how long he’s been reported to be in this area, Jack doubts it was an accident. He’s being taunted. Baited. Challenged to see which of them is the better hunter.
In the ensuing days, he stakes out the lanes of human travel through the forest. It avails him absolutely nothing. Not a single sign of the wolf, but he feels the eyes and he’d swear that occasionally he hears a ghostly whisper of laughter from deep in the trees. The wolf is showing off.
Jack never lets his guard down in the woods. “You can stalk me all you like,” he says to the shadows. “The hunt isn’t complete till you bring down your prey.”
He wonders if he’s imagining the smirking quality to the silence.
Finding the wolf isn’t a problem, if the wolf is following him. But the game isn’t that simple. Before Jack confronts him, he needs to understand him, and there’s something he’s missing along with the wolf’s trace. Jack changes tacks.
The people here swear they’ve been predated on fiercely, but Jack is seeing no sign of it—not only in the lack of actual attacks, but in the lack of fear from travelers. Oh, they know there’s a wolf and they’re wary of it, but Jack has hunted enough monsters to know what a community looks like when it’s truly under attack.
When he interrogates the right people—the honest ones, the educated ones, and the children—they admit as much. They want the wolf gone to have the idea of it gone, but while there’s been the occasional savaging by wildlife, there’s no guarantee it wasn’t a bear or boar. Nobody can swear that the wolf has ever attacked a human in this territory.
Jack goes back into the forest, looking in different places this time. Sure enough, along the deer trails and the stream banks, there’s the wolf’s spoor. Paw prints, scat, shreds of fur…
Jack knows he’s catching up when he finds a fresh kill. It’s been dead long enough that its carcass isn’t steaming in the fall air, but it’s been feasted on recently. Recently enough that Jack raises his voice. “You don’t kill humans, do you?”
There’s no answer, but he continues anyway. “There’re boar in these woods. Are you the reason the people here have so few troubles with them?” Wild boar are such a menace in breeding season that frankly in Jack’s experience werewolves tend to be the lesser threat, unless you get a good-sized pack of them who’re determined to be a problem.
There’s still no answer, but also no birdsong. The forest is utterly quiet. The wolf is near.
The moment hangs, along with the silence. This time Jack found the wolf, rather than the wolf finding him. Eventually Jack grunts, annoyed for some reason he can’t name at the lack of reply, and turns to go back the way he came. “I’ve still got a job to do. Don’t expect mercy.”
He’s gone several meters before a great shadow coasts across the track up ahead. It pauses for a split second, head turned in Jack’s direction, and the low filtered light glints in its eyes. Then it’s off again, vanishing back into the deep green shadows of the forest. Nettled, Jack fires a single shot in its general direction. A laugh ghosts back to him.
“Asshole.”
But Jack catches himself putting a spring in his step as he leaves the site. With no human lives riding on this, except perhaps his own, something in him rallies to the excitement of the chase.
Still, if it’s a game, then it’s a potentially deadly one. The wolf may tease, but it’s not foolish enough to get too close to him. And he in turn isn’t foolish enough to put himself at its mercy. He doesn’t camp in the woods. When he’s in the wolf’s territory, his guard never comes down. Even so, a few days later, events conspire to strand him out there overnight. He puts his back to a dirt bank and lights a fire, and he doesn’t sleep.
Late in the night after the moon has set, a silhouette hunkers down on the other side of the fire from him, just outside the edge of its light. The wolf is a man, and a finely shaped one, with long clean limbs and broad shoulders and a white-teethed grin Jack can see even in the dark.
“You’re a good hunter,” he says in that growl of a voice. “I enjoy watching you work.”
Jack grunts, and tries not to feel the praise. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
The wolf laughs. He has a warm, hearty laugh. “I’ve never preyed on humans. I’ve got no desire to. They’re more trouble than they’re worth and they’re half my people anyway. Have you ever tried eating something with a face like yours?”
Jack snorts. “Couldn’t stomach something that ugly.”
To his surprise, the wolf scoffs. “You’re not so hard on the eyes as that, old man. The scars suit you. They make you look dangerous.”
There’s a teasing lilt in the wolf’s voice. It takes Jack a second to identify it, and then he says incredulously, “Are you flirting with me?”
“You’ll have to catch me to find out.” The light tone is still there. But then the wolf stands, blurs, and bounds back into the dark on four legs.
Jack watches in the direction he left for a while, and wonders about how much fun he’s having.
As it turns out, whatever either of them planned, events take their own turn.
Jack is following the deer trails again, hot on the wolf’s trail in a part of the forest where he isn’t expecting to hear human voices. He pauses. There’s at least one woman, and a couple of children.
He has little fear regarding the wolf hurting them at this point, but he coasts up through the underbrush on silent feet, just to satisfy his curiosity. They’re foraging busily in a berry briar, and he’s about to turn and leave them to it when there’s a sudden loud rustling from further into the woods.
A man shouts in a growling voice, “Ware! Boar!” and then the grunting, squealing beast bursts out of the underbrush, charging for the children. It’s a big male, scarred and rutting. Jack rushes out into the clearing to cut between it and the screaming children, emptying his pistol at it as he goes. He hits his mark, but the animal is berserk, riding an adrenaline high that can keep it on its feet through wounds that will eventually kill it.
Jack is the closest moving thing now, so it turns its attention to him. It’s startlingly quick. He manages to dodge its first plunging attack with a parry of his sword that opens a wound on its face but sends him stumbling back from the sheer determined size of the creature. It shears around to come at him again. Still off balance, he turns and braces to meet it as best he can, only to find it staggering to the side from the impact of a heavy black-furred wolf against its shoulder.
The wolf snaps and slashes with its fangs and then jumps back out of reach as the boar lunges around to swipe with its tusks. But the attack bought Jack time to get his feet back under him. From the other side, he lunges in to slash a line open over its ribs. He darts back before it’s even managed to finish spinning in his direction, and the wolf harries it again. With Jack distracting the creature, the wolf manages to get at its back and apply those crushing jaws to its spine.
When it finally goes down, sagging awkwardly to the ground, Jack’s eyes meet the wolf’s across its back. He’s bruised, battered and bloody, and the wolf looks roughed up too, but it circles around the boar and stalks toward him with intent.
Jack hefts his sword and sets his feet firm on the earth under the thigh-high wildflowers of the meadow, while his adrenaline spikes another notch higher. Yes, now is as good a time as any. The family is long gone, fled to safety somewhere, and Jack can’t outrun a wolf anyway.
Partway to him, the wolf blurs up to his human form. He is a stunning man, with skin a burnished copper and a well-trimmed beard. Jack has seen him before now and then in the village, at the pub or in passing on the street. He recalls his name was Gabriel. Now, he catches those golden-brown eyes and can’t look away. They have the breathtaking intensity of a predator fully fixed on its prey. In answer, Jack shows his teeth, half snarl and half wild-edged, challenging grin.
He sees the flare of response in the wolf’s eyes. Jack surges forward to meet his lunge.
But the wolf doesn’t attack in the way Jack was expecting. He darts inside Jack’s reach and slaps Jack’s blade away with one hand, grabbing for his face with his other. Jack recoils, anticipating the rake of nails in his face, perhaps aiming for his eyes. Instead, fingertips bite into his jaw, holding him firm as their bodies collide and pulling him into a rough kiss.
The wolf’s nails are long, almost clawlike even in human form. They bite into his skin, dissuading him from jerking away. Jack can taste blood, and isn’t sure which of them it comes from. The wolf sends him staggering back, feet tripping and tangling through vines, till his shoulders hit a tree, ripping at his clothing till Jack feels palms against his bare skin. Jack grabs at the wolf’s hair, paws at his side, lets himself be shoved down into the ferns and moss with the other man on top of him.
Jack’s pulse is beating through his body like he’s a living drum, thumping with adrenaline, fear and arousal. The wolf pins Jack with a hand on his throat. His mouth catches at one of Jack’s nipples and seals around it, sucking and licking. Jack sinks his own rough, torn nails into that broad back, over a shoulder blade and the wolf growls into his chest. They both nearly died. This one saved his life. Fought beside him. Hunted him. The chase ends here, and Jack wants it to. Wants his hands on this beautiful man, wants his pleasure and the rough, pitiless handling.
He slides his hands down to the wolf’s naked ass and grabs, fingertips sinking into the dense muscle as Jack pushes up to rut against his stomach. The wolf snarls approvingly and grinds down. Then he shoves off, leaving Jack disoriented for a moment until the wolf grabs him by the shoulder and pushes him over onto his stomach.
A hand grabs his hair and shoves him down, then pulls his head back to bare his throat. Teeth and a rasp of beard drag along the side of his neck. “I caught you,” the wolf—Gabriel—growls. “I’ve watched you, wanted you. Now you’re mine.”
Jack swallows and nods as well as he can. The hand pushes down firmly, a reminder to stay put, then lets go of his hair, and Gabriel’s weight lifts off him. Jack wonders for a second, before a warm wetness laps along his ass to push in against his hole. He gasps in surprise, then twists to look over his shoulder. Gabriel, back in his canine form, growls faintly at him and puts a paw on his hip, and dips his head to lick again.
Long, hot, and slick, the wolf’s tongue quickly works Jack open while Jack shifts his hands on the ground, digging fingertips into the soft dirt to steady himself. He moans and cants his hips back and up into the laving, begging for more.
Gabriel obliges. He moves to cover Jack from behind, the same warm heavy weight as before except now with fur brushing soft against his back and ass. Jack feels the wolf’s cock, stroking along the curve of his ass till it catches in his cleft and then nudges home against his hole. Gabriel doesn’t give him time for second thoughts. He pushes in and begins to take him.
Jack moans under the thrusts. He’s being fucked by a monster, stripped naked in a forest glade. He feels filthy, wanton, stretched full and like his skin is electrified, every movement of the wolf on and inside him shimmering outward through his whole body. Gabriel licks at his neck with his long tongue, and catches delicately at his throat with sharp teeth. It isn’t a threat so much as a tease. A taunt to remind Jack of who’s on top and who’s being fucked by a werewolf right now. It shouldn’t be so effective, but Jack whines and fumbles downward for his own cock to jerk himself off.
He comes first. The wolf’s thrusts increase in speed and hardness till Jack’s forced down onto his chest with his ass in the air, getting ridden for all he’s worth. He moans again, a different timbre this time, high-pitched and uncomfortable, and tries to squirm out from under the stimulation as his body begins to get over-sensitive. Gabriel simply shuffles forward to stay on top of him. A moment later, Jack can feel him coming. Hot spurts of semen flood into Jack, and then he shouts and arches sharply as…oh god, he’d forgotten. The wolf is knotting him.
He swells inside Jack, forcing him open. It’s intense. All Jack’s focus moves to what’s happening inside him, the way he’s being stretched. He cries out again and tries to struggle. It hurts; and hurts more when he tries to jerk away. Every twitch of his muscles pushes it harder against his prostate, sending a jangling shock through his nerves that makes him flinch.
The wolf groans and one hand clamps around the globe of one ass cheek, kneading. Human again. “Relax,” he growls. “You need to relax. The tenser you get, the more it will hurt.”
“Easy for you to say,” Jack manages between panting breaths. How the hell is he supposed to relax when he feels like he’s being split open and he can’t get away from it?
Gabriel’s hand slides around to his front, then down between his legs to stroke his cock. Jack cries out and jerks again at the touch to his over-sensitive cock.
Gabriel pulls away and then touches him again more lightly, stroking gently with the pads of his fingers, then reaching further back to rub at his taint, along his inner thighs, over his lower abdomen and the crease of his hips.
As the touches rekindle Jack’s arousal, the frightening sense of fullness inside him begins to soften to something more tempting. More stimulating. He begins to moan. Gabriel rumbles approvingly. “Yes, just like that.”
Jack’s hips twitch back into Gabriel’s groin. Gabriel laughs and grinds against him, moving his hips in little circles that make Jack gasp. This time when the wolf’s hand comes back to his cock, Jack breathes, “Please.”
Gabriel’s chin, rough with beard, hooks over Jack’s shoulder. “You sound pretty when you beg.” His touches are teasing at first, soft fingertip strokes up and down his shaft, till Jack is moaning and panting. Then he wraps his hand around it and begins to stroke. Jack rocks back and forth with little movements of his hips, caught between sensations and unable to truly move into either of them. The wolf rubs his slit with the pad of his thumb. “Wet for me, pretty hunter. Looks like I’ve captured you well and truly.” He leans in a bit closer. “When we’re done here, would you like to come back to my place for dinner?”
from Tumblr http://ift.tt/2y0ZQRD