Oh well. You unlock the door, eyes fixed on your phone screen, and pretend to greet the partner you’re supposedly visiting.

“Babe, I'm back –”

Red. It’s everywhere. Splattered across the walls in crimson streaks, staining the carpet. Ripped shreds of fabric are strewn about, soaked in that dark, viscous liquid. And in the middle of it all, on the edge of the pristine bed, sits the big, bad wolf, eyeing you with a feral gaze.

…oh.

You're so, so fucked.

“Don’t even think about running.” Ashveil’s voice is a threat, a threat to your psyche, that is, because that low growl alone makes your knees buckle.

You stammer, frozen in place. Your heart pounds in your ears, hands trembling. “How- how did you get inside my apartment?”

With a disapproving click of his tongue, Ashveil stands up. “Oh, come on. You know how the story goes, don’t you? Don’t play dumb.”

The carpet underneath his feet lets him stalk closer to you, silent, like a true predator cornering whatever he has set his sights on. Every step closer to you forces you further against the wall, until you’re pressed right against it, with him towering over you.

Disbelief spreads on your face. “What the hell are you talking about?! What weirdo breaks into someone’s home and leaves everything full of –”

Metallic coldness clamps around your chin, gentle enough to betray his affection, firm enough to underline how very serious he is. His prosthetic fingers dig into your cheek. A yelp leaves your lips.

“I am no weirdo.” A low hum, nose pressing against the side of your neck. You can feel him inhaling your scent. “People nowadays call us ‘aberrations’, when we no longer act the way our dear, new CEO wants us to.”

You try to turn your head away, fearing you'll just go slack and surrender any second, but Ashveil's grip is unrelenting. Focus, focus! You'll never hear the end of it if you fawn and freeze now.

“So you're just an imagenae?” Too cocky. Too late. Biting your tongue won't take the words back.

Ashveil janks you closer. “I,” he downright growls, and it makes a shiver run down your spine, “am the big –” he punctuates “– bad. Wolf.” Tilting your chin up, he forces you to look into those silver hues of his, pink gleaming with hunger. “And you, my dear Little Red, are my next meal.”

It’s a gut punch in the best form, fear mixing with growing arousal in a way that has your mind spinning and everything below the waistline tingly. Every second pinned under his gaze makes you feel weaker, so utterly easy for the taking. Adrenaline floods your system, drowning out any logical thought.

“You… You ate…?"

“That's how the story goes, sweetheart,” he mocks, sickeningly sweet. Ashveil clicks his tongue. “Though you’ve sure messed up my plan so far… But that’s alright." A clawed thumb brushes your cheekbone. “That just means that I’m allowed to change some things too.”

You gulp as he leans down again, lip brushing the soft shell of your ear.

His words are a breath, a disgustingly tender whisper. “I think I wanna have my fun with you before I swallow you whole.”

Trying to reach for the doorknob earns you a tight grip around your wrist, before Ashveil promptly hauls you over his shoulder. You scream.

What’s worse: the bastard has the audacity to laugh.

You land softly on the bed, still restrained by Ashveil’s grip as he presses between your legs, bringing your wrists above your head. Knees pressing your thighs apart, he looks down at you. Time and time again, he’s looked down at you before ravaging you. Today feels different. Today makes your pulse spike as if you’re really about to be devoured by a beast. His tongue is searing hot as it descends on your neck, licking up from your throat to the sensitive spot behind your ear, savoring you properly as he hums and groans right into your ear. That voice of his is gonna be the death of you.

“You’re even tastier than they were,” he grunts, moving your wrists together to free his gloved hand. Bringing it to his lips, he bites at his fingertips to pull the white fabric off, tossing it aside without a care in the world. Then, those elegant fingers dip down beneath the red fabric of your hoodie, slowly pulling it up.

Sparks fly on your exposed skin with every inch of skin he reveals. For the first time, you try to squirm. “D- don't!”

“I don't think that's for you to decide, Little Red,” he huffs. “You've meddled into my fairy tale long enough. I'm not going to let you ruin it anymore.”

Expertly maneuvering you onto your back, Ashveil pulls the hoodie above your head, keeping you pinned beneath him. It’s useless, thrashing into the sheets in this position, and he knows it. Not being able to be hypnotised by his pretty face is a crime in and of itself. What you can hear, however, is the familiar clicking of metal accessories falling onto carpeted floor, followed by the soft thud of his fedora and the heavy weight of his coat. Something rips. A zipper opens. Next, you feel how he drapes himself over you, pressing his entire body into your back as he reaches forward to grab something out of the nightstand.

Aeons, you can feel how hard he is.

A drawer slams shut. Ashveil leans up, letting you breathe again, until he drags you back belly-up and the air is knocked out of your lungs by the sheer sight before you: he hasn’t taken off his compression shirt, but ripped it open, and the leather band across his chest just looks desperately shameless, with how it’s pushing his exposed tits together. Pert nipples peek through the sheer fabric, torso heaving as he pants. His fly is open, bulge spilling out of his pants, still held tight inside his briefs.

You can’t help the whimper that leaves your throat, less so when his eyes are fixated on you like this.

Equally entranced by your bare torso, Ashveil runs a hand over your belly, trailing upwards. It’s unfair, how he’s the only one allowed to touch, how he has you pinned like this, how you already know that he’s going to ruin you. A hiss presses past your lips as you suddenly feel teeth sinking into your throat, immediately followed by an apologetic kiss.

His head falls forward, burying his face into your shoulder. “...I’m getting ahead of myself,” he grumbles, displeased about the fact that he can’t just eat you alive now, not when he has you spread out all pretty before him. Instead, his hand leaves your chest to slide back down, fiddling with the button of your pants.

“Listen –" you try in a last-ditch effort to… you don't even know what you're asking for. Your brain is mush. “I- I'm not tasty at all –”

“Oh, but you are. The most delectable little thing,” he grins as he takes his time slowly pulling your pants down, exposing your underwear and gorgeous thighs. Amusement glimmers in his eyes as he lets out a low whistle. “Would you look at that? I think you're very much looking forward to being devoured.” 

Every inch of your skin tingles. The fabric of your underwear feels insulting, clinging and sticking to your skin and exposing the desperation of your body. Higher, higher, every part of you feels like it’s the highest of heavens, in the lowest of hells, needing him, loving him, wanting him to ravage you and make you his.

Ashveil cups your groin, fingers running over the wet spot that's formed there. “Eager, are we?”

A moan escapes your throat, yet you vehemently shake your head.

“Come on, don’t deny it. This is your body finally accepting its role in this little fairy tale of ours.” Your pants join the discarded pile on the floor, along with your underwear, and the cold air in the room hits you all at once.

Are you shivering from the drop in temperature, or excitement? Both, likely, and Ashveil eats it right up.

“Tell you what: if you’re nice, I’ll make sure you have fun too.”

Testing the waters, Ashveil finally loosens his grip around your wrists, hoisting you up in one quick movement until you’re sitting in his lap, with his hard-on directly pressing against your most sensitive spots. He chuckles at the little surprised sound you let out, and then, he brings your arms around his neck. Technically, following the horrifying scenario that you're a victim about to be devoured, you should use this chance to get away, or at least to fight a little.

No such thing happens. Not with how you're pressed against his warm, ample chest, when this is everything you’ve ever dreamed of. You’re right where you want to be.

When you hear the plop of a bottlecap opening, you realize what Ashveil pulled out of the drawer earlier. In fact, you feel it, cool and slimy, coating his fingers as he circles your entrance. A small gasp escapes you at the sensation, yet you don't feel him pressing in just yet. Before he does anything, he leans forward, nuzzling your nose and letting out a small hum, an unspoken question. Silly pup, still asking for permission at a time like this. It's endearing. Once you nod, that's when you feel how he presses in, one long finger prodding inside of you.

“Ah- mmh-” you pant.

He groans. “That’s it, just give in. You're going to feel so wonderful around me…” A pensive spark flickers in his eyes while you try not to move yourself into his finger, and his prosthetic hand finds your wrist once more. Oh, that grin is definitely cooking up something. “However, we can’t lose the plot entirely now, can we?”

Huh?

Bringing your wrist up, he makes your hand brush against his wolf ears. Aeons, they're so fluffy, it nearly distracts you from the scene.

“In the original, Little Red goes on to gasp at how… different Grandma looks, once she comes to visit,” the wolf explains, canines flashing in the light. “I already spoke my lines earlier: now it's your turn, Little Red.”

Is Ashveil seriously going to make you say that right now? Ugh, but you know him: if you don't, he's going to drag this on forever. He's already stopped pumping inside of you, expectantly waiting for you to follow suit.

You swallow. “O- oh, mister wolf,” you stammer, somewhat embarrassed, “what big ears you have – Ah!”

Another finger joins the one already inside of you as Ashveil sets a lazy tempo, making sure to drag his fingertips against your most sensitive spots, wringing a whimper from your throat. It's slow, too slow. It's torture, and he's loving it.

“The better to hear your sweet moans with,” he chuckles, so unapologetic that it sparks something in you.

Still holding your wrist, Ashveil drags your hand over his cheek, leaning into your touch. Nuzzling into your palms like the sweet puppy in wolf's clothes he is. That is, until he opens his mouth again, tongue lapping at your thumb, before he gently brings it between his teeth, wide and smirking.

Fuck, fuck, it's all too much, way too much. How does he expect you to concentrate like this, between his pretty face and his fingers scissoring you open? Cruel. Mean. Downright evil.

“And- Ah, and what b- big teeth you have,” you continue, somewhere between impatience and surrender. His clothed groin grinding against your stomach isn’t making this any better.

“The better to bite you with, dear.” Releasing your thumb, Ashveil laces your fingers together, pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“And what big – mmh! What big hands you have!”

“The better to hold you captive with.” Just as promised, his prosthetic reaches for your wrists once more, manhandling you until you’re underneath him again. Lithe fingers pull out of you, leaving you to shudder and ache for something inside of you. “Now for the final part…”

Finally, desperately, Ashveil reaches for his pants, pulling both slacks and briefs down to expose himself. His bare member hits your stomach, precum beading on the flush tip, staining your skin. 

“And… and what-” Aeons, the sentence doesn't want to leave your mouth. “What big… Uhm– what big cock you have–”

“The better to fuck you with.”

Stars spark behind your eyes as a shudder wracks your body, moans spilling freely from your lips as he pushes past the tight rim, thrusting inside in one smooth motion

“F- fuck!”

Ashveil's drawn-out groan reverberates within you, cock twitching deliciously inside your warm walls. His wolf ears are flat against his head. “That’s it… Take it, Little Red. Take all of me.”

The first thrust is shallow, grinding inside of you, an animalistic desire to be as deep as possible. Then, his thrusts start to go further, further, until Ashveil picks up a desperate rhythm, panting like a rutting dog. You’re very grateful to have paid for a soundproof room, because you can’t hold your moans back, and neither can he. Obscene. It’s the only way to describe the volume, the scent in the room, how you’re arching into him and gripping at the sheets.

This sentimental old wolf can't take it anymore, because finally, for the first time tonight, he allows himself to kiss you. Devour might be a better term, however, with the way his lips repeatedly crash into yours, tongue dipping inside your mouth to play with yours. There's no pretense, no play in this: just pure, raw passion. You match it in turn, hands leaving the sheets to claw at his back and shoulders. Aeons, it feels so good to kiss him, to feel him all around you. More. More, more, more, you need more. Skin meets skin and metal as Ashveil’s hands drag down your body to your hips, anchoring himself to piston into you, tip catching against your rim only to hit your deepest spots over and over and over again. Though not rough – not yet, at least – Ashveil is needy, wholly entranced with the way you keep sucking him in, how warm and wet and wonderful you feel around him.

“So beautiful,” he murmurs as your lips part, drool dribbling down his chin. He swallows with a grunt. “Feels so good, sucking me right in.” 

Is keeping your eyes open better, or closing them? Keeping your eyes closed makes you aware of how tightly he’s holding you, how his metal hand digs into your flesh, lets you feel everything with full intensity. Opening your eyes lets you witness the scrunch in Ashveil’s brows, his parted lips, flushed cheeks, and – now that he catches you staring – that predatory glint in his eyes and the way the corners of his mouth twitch upwards in a smirk.

“Someone’s having fun,” Ashveil muses.

“Fuck – mh! Fuck you!”

“Already on it, sweetheart.”

This bastard – No second later, your side hits the mattress as Ashveil manhandles you, hauling one leg over his shoulder. His prosthetic curls around your thigh while his free hand reaches forward, stroking over your sex. Slowly, agonizingly slow, he pulls back, but he doesn’t pull out. Just holding, waiting, teasing. Then, just as you’re about to moan in protest, he plunges right back in, and your head falls back with a scream.

“Ah… Ah…” Your head is spinning from the double stimulation.

This new angle lets him aim at all those spots he knows drive you crazy, now that his initial frenzy has sharpened into the calculated hunt for your shared bliss. With no remorse, he sets a steady pace, balls slapping against the curve of your ass every time his pelvis digs into the meat of your thigh. Loving and bullying are one and the same right now. Ashveil’s fingers are pure magic on you, stroking and circling and teasing you, until you feel the familiar pressure of an incoming orgasm wring itself ever tighter into your gut. The view of his dick disappearing inside of you, his pecs heaving with each breath, it’s all making you spiral.

Your hand finds his wrist. “I’m – I’m close –”

Apparently, that was an invitation, because he nearly folds you in half as he bends down, lips finding your neck, sucking and biting and earning so many more of those beautiful noises he adores to hear spill from your throat.

“Yeah? My Little Red is gonna cum? Love how this old wolf is treating you that much?” It’s no question, it’s a statement that requires no comment, because your body is already speaking for you. Ashveil only keeps the pace of his hand and hips. “Don’t look away now. Let me see how you come undone.”

Fighting against it is useless. There’s no stopping it, not that you’d want to. As soon as he finds that deepest spot again, a shudder wracks your entire body as your muscles tense up, before all tension snaps. You whimper. You shake. You twitch and tighten around him and cry out in relief.

Oh, but Ashveil is not done. Far from it. That sweet exhaustion that would settle in after your orgasm doesn’t come, because he’s still fucking you into the matress.

“Nghh… Ah…” If he had a cheesy line in mind, it's gone. There's not a single thought behind those gray eyes anymore as they watch you shiver beneath him. “Perfect, so perfect…”

Even as you feel like your entire body is burning, he doesn’t stop. How could he? He’s so, so close to losing his mind.

His pace has turned into shallow staccato, chasing his own pleasure with reckless abandon. Strong arms curl around your thigh as he ruts into you, pressing you into the mattress with each thrust. “Mine, mine, only mine.”

That’s all it takes. Warm cum floods your hole as Ashveil fucks himself silly, still giving shallow thrusts even as it starts leaking down the curve of your ass, until he finally collapses on top of you with a whimper, wolf ears twitching.

Hot, humid. Both of you gasp for air, desperately wanting to cool down, yet unable to separate from each other’s warmth for just one second. After a short while, when your breathing returns to normal and your pulse slows down, Ashveil slowly leans up, but not before pressing a kiss to the myriad of bite marks he left on your neck.

“I’ll be right back.”

Pulling out is the worst part for both of you, but unlike at home, where you can cuddle with him buried inside of you for as long as you like, you’re unfortunately in a place that charges by the hour. Ugh.

Ashveil stands up to grab some towels, while you reach over to the little fridge next to the bed, pulling out two water bottles. Once he returns, you let him clean you up and offer him a bottle, and you both drink what tastes like crisp mountain water to your thirsty tongues. When you’re both done, you lay back down, and with a pat to your chest, you invite Ashveil to rest on top of you. Which he immediately does, laying himself on top of you without crushing you and burying his face into your neck..

Now that you’re back in reality, you can’t help but tease him. “Didn’t you want to eat me up now, meanie wolf?”

Ashveil grumbles, voice muffled against your neck. “Let this old man rest for a bit before I do that…”

You chuckle. Then, you bury your hand into his silky hair, gently petting him over, rubbing over his ears. Ah, wait. Those moved earlier, didn’t they?

“How did you get the ears and tail?”

“One of the kids I help out regularly made it with imagenesis.”

“And you don’t feel bad about defiling them like this?”

He chuckles. “Nah. They’ll fade any minute anyway. Besides, they helped to flesh out the scene, didn’t they?”

It’s true. Ashveil has put so much effort into making sure you had fun, and this fact fills you with a warmth that fills your heart. Oh, how you love this sweet detective.

“Ash… Thank you. For everything: for going along with this in the first place, for setting things up.” You lean down, pressing a kiss to his temple. “For making this an unforgettable experience. I couldn’t have wished for a better partner.”

Ashveil slides off of you to lay down next to you, and although he’s blushing, he doesn’t feel the need to hide himself. In fact, he’s even smiling, a goofy, lovesick smile that makes his eyes sparkle. “Y- yeah? You liked it?”

“I loved it,” you smile back, equally tender. “I love you, Ashveil.”

How much he loves to hear those words. Nuzzling his nose against yours, he wraps his arms around your body and kisses you, lets out a small sigh. Ashveil presses his forehead to yours. “I love you too, dear.”

For a little while, you just stay like this, intertwined in each other’s arms, before curiosity flickers in your mind again.

“How did you find everything? Did you have fun?” Sure, he’s known to do things for others, but you hope that he also enjoyed himself beyond just pleasing you.

“Oh, it was loads of fun,” he grins. “The list was actually helpful. Gave me lots of ideas without revealing anything about what I had in mind. The fact that you didn’t know everything? It was exciting.” 

Okay, you have to snort a bit. “You know, when I checked the mark for ‘blood’, I was expecting a bite going a bit too deep, or using fake blood to simulate an injury… not an entire crime scene.”

“...oh.”

The moment that worry  forms on his face, you take his face, kissing the tip of his nose. “Doesn’t mean I didn’t like it. It was honestly unexpected in the best way.” You pause, looking around to see that the walls and carpet are still very much covered in fake blood. “Uh… Did we end up paying that cleaning fee in advance...?”

“The room is getting renovated soon, so they didn’t mind me making things messy here.”

You sigh in relief.

Ashveil chuckles at your reaction. Then, he looks into your eyes once more, tone hesitant. “You weren’t very vocal today.”

“Well, I wasn’t allowed to cry, to beg for my life, to ask you to stop, nothing along those lines,” you huff. There is no accusation in your voice. You know why he asked that of you. “And just screaming about how good it feels would kinda go against the whole scenario.”

“You did get very willing the more I riled you up,” he grins.

“Duh. I was honestly fighting to keep up appearances. You were making it hard for me, you know.”

The corner of his mouth twitches. “Next time, I could tie you up. Then, you wouldn’t need to pretend to struggle at all.”

A sigh. “Once a Ranger, always a Ranger…” Your hands go up to ruffle his hair once more. “But we can continue this conversation at home. I don’t wanna pay for an extra hour here.”

Upon uttering the magic words ‘pay extra’, Ashveil shoots up in bed, and in the blink of an eye, he’s already dressed. What the hell, how did he do that? His clothes are way too complicated for that.

….

No hour later, you’re both snuggled under the covers of your bed, holding each other as sleep weighs down on both of you. With a kiss, you wish him a good night, and then, you’re out like a light in the arms of the man you love more than anything else in this world.

My first time actually writing smut, hope you guys liked it! For those who saw my post about taxes, always make sure to file your taxes on time and that everything is correct; don't end up like me.

Part 1