#{violet

With the spare key, you slip inside the apartment and shut the door behind you. You expected a mess — a dirty kitchen, maybe some torn pillows — but, no. It’s relatively clean, save for a box of protein bars and empty chinese takeout on the counter.

You’re just about done kicking your shoes off by the entrance before the door at the end of the hallway creaks open. That one leads to her bedroom.

“Vi?” Again, you call out her name and hope for an answer. Nothing. You advance forward, guided by the sunlight that still streams in through the windows. “Listen, baby, I know you don’t want me here because you fear you’ll hurt me, but I—”

Ah.

Vi stops under the arch of the hallway. She’s slightly hunched over, and even then, damn near touches the wood above her. She’s stripped down to her boxers and binding tape. That’s not something you haven’t seen before.

The rest of her is.

Not only has she gained over a foot in height, but also what looks like to be at least twenty kilograms of pure muscle in weight. She’s never been one to shave, but the hair — or, fur, rather — at the base of her navel that travels south is much, much thicker. More pink tufts have sprouted along her shoulders. Longer sideburns.

Though Vi has yet to speak, you can still see the outline of the thick and sharp fangs that have grown within her mouth. Her ears, flattened to the sides of her head and pointed. It’s a mystery to how she can even comfortably get off, considering the length and sharpness of those claws.

“I told you not to come,” The words leave Vi in a rasp as she strolls forward. In spite of her new size, she makes little to no sound as she comes to stand before you. Honestly, her size is almost absurd, but you can already imagine yourself under her; squished down onto the bed, hips raised, and her mouth over your throat as she fucks you from behind into the mattress. Will you even be able to take all of her? “And still, you—”

She doesn’t manage to finish her sentence. Vi leans down, splaying one of her broad palms over the small of your back to press you against her frame. Her nose brushes over your throat, and she groans loudly. You don’t know what she’s just caught a whiff of, but it makes her entire spine shudder.

“You’re wet,” Vi states, voice thick. Her other hand travels down your torso, claws catching on the delicate cashmere of your sweater, until she cups you through your jeans. Gods, are her hands big. At least twelve inches, no doubt. Bigger than the length of your fucking skull. You gasp against her ear as the heel of her palm applies pressure against your clothed clit, steadying yourself by grasping onto her broad shoulders. “I won’t be myself in this state. You understand that, right?”

You do.

It’s not hard to see just how much Vi’s pulling herself together here. Her jaw’s clenched so tight it’s a wonder her molars haven’t cracked. There’s tension in her muscles you can feel with every shift under your fingers.

“I do.”

That’s all Vi needs before she’s lifting you up into her arms without so much of a grunt. Her mouth seals over yours just as your thighs hook around her waist, and her lips eagerly part to meet your tongue halfway. She mutters an apology when the tip of your tongue catches on the pointed end of a fang, though eventually moves to feast on your throat instead.

Vi stumbles backwards until she finally makes it into the bedroom, and though at the peak of her rut, is still mindful of how she throws you onto the bed. The bed is what’s a mess.

Piles of pillows against the headboard that follow in a semi-circle along the crumbled sheets. It’s mostly extra blankets that work as a cushion, though you do catch view of an oddly familiar pair of panties you’d lost months ago in the corner.

Vi’s hands land on your hips, snapping you out of your thoughts. A groan vibrates in her throat as she raises your lower half in the air, connecting your clothed cunt with her own hidden, but very evident, arousal. It’s almost painful, considering you’re in your jeans, but Vi makes quick work of them soon enough.

Her claws catch on your thigh from how quickly she rips the denim down your legs, and Vi soothes the sting with a lick and kiss before moving on to your sweater next. She splays her palm over your belly, muttering something you can’t quite catch under her breath.

“What’s with the…?” You trail off with a breath, leaning back against the mound of pillows and blankets. “This.”

“It’s a nest,” Vi answers as she lowers herself, nuzzling her cheek over your neck before her mouth latches onto the skin. You can’t suppress a moan as she nips and suckles the sensitive flesh, and your hands find their natural placement on her head when she pushes your bralette up to expose your breasts into the air. “Instinct, I guess. More comfortable. Good place for future pups.”

“Future what?” You echo.

Vi groans, perhaps at the sound of those words coming from your mouth, and gives a nod. She rips your bralette in half with ease, the fabric giving away under the strength. You want to snap at her for it, but really, the sight of her thick and veiny forearms are awfully distracting.

“Pups,” Vi hums into your skin, briefly lapping at one of your breasts before scooting backwards to work her way down your body. Her hands slide down your sides until they cup your hips once more, and she squeezes until the soft flesh yields between every gap of her fingers. “I’d give you a whole litter. Keep you here, safe and sound…”

You know it’s just her hormones and instincts talking — probably — and choose to indulge her. You’re not completely lost to the anatomy of a werewolf in rut.

"And you'd do that, how? Knotting me?"

Teasing Vi in this state is probably not the smartest move.

Her pointed ears flick once before she rips your panties with both hands. The torn fabric is tossed over her shoulder, and you yelp as she stands on her knees and lifts your entire lower half up. Your feet fall to the sides, leaving your cunt exposed. Much like Vi had guessed earlier, you're already wet, but that's not enough for her.

She lowers her head between your legs and spits over your mound. You shudder with a grunt, feeling as the warm glob rolls past the hood of your clit to run down to your entrance. Vi's gaze doesn't meet yours just yet, and she instead looks from her fingers to your sex. Back, and forth.

A deep whine echoes from her throat as she shakes her head.

"Finger yourself," Vi orders, glancing down at you. Her claws dig into the meat of your hips, drawing some blood. "Work yourself open for me."

"Like this?" You gesture down at yourself with one hand, a huff following suit. It's not the most comfortable of positions for you to touch your damn self.

"Like this."

But you won't argue.

You trail your dominant hand down, reaching over with your middle and ring finger to slide down to your entrance. Vi watches with rapt attention as you lubricate your fingers with the mix of her spit and your slick, and she groans in satisfaction as one of your fingers disappears into your warmth.

Maybe you don’t get as much pleasure from fingering yourself as you would from Vi doing it, but the psychological aspect of being ordered and watched is another different thing. Vi usually speaks filth and praise into your ear when you two fuck, but it seems like she can’t get anything beyond grunts and whines out. Her pupils expand as you add yet another finger, leaving only slim ring of her grey irises visible.

“Add another one,” She rasps, curling her hands tighter around your hips. “You’ll need it.”

You don’t have to look down to know Vi’s not just being cocky about her size. The outline of her dick beneath those boxers is a little intimidating, honestly. She’s fucked you with big straps before, yeah, but she’s never fucked you in this form.

Her hands appear to be twelve inches now.

Lord knows what’s going on down there.

So you do as told, sinking a third digit into your cunt. The stretch aches, but this time, Vi aids by keeping your hips elevated with one hand and raising her free one to suck her thumb into her mouth. Then, she lowers it to rub circles over your clit. You relax around yourself little by little, worked up by your fingers, Vi’s thumb on your clit, and the sound of her desperate little pants the longer you finger yourself for.

You're already feeling that climb. The warmth that begins to pool and curl deep in your belly, the flush that begins to run down to your fingertips, and the itch you're eager to tear to have that orgasm.

But, Vi rips that feeling by pulling her thumb away.

"Fuck you, Vi.." You hiss, dropping your head back onto the mountain of pillows with a groan. You pull your fingers out with a grunt, and before you can wipe them clean on the sheets, Vi does the job by leaning down and taking them into your mouth.

"Hm?" Vi croons, the grin that curls the corners of her lips making the fangs behind them peak out. "Do you want to say that again?"

She doesn't give you much time to answer before she's pushing her boxers down. Vi hisses as her length is freed, pink brows furrowing as it slaps against her stomach. She's painfully hard, the pink head — which goes a bit past her belly button — weeps with pre. There's the knot at the base, not yet swollen to it's full potential, but still there.

But before you can appreciate her bare self, she's rolling you over onto your belly. You raise your head, but Vi's right hand is quick to snap out and press itself flat between your shoulder blades. You're left with no choice but to keep your cheek squished to the sheets, and are just barely able to peek over your shoulder. Her free hand grasps your hip, lifting it so that your spine forms a comfortable arch.

"Look at you," Vi grunts, giving a pat to your hip as a silent order to remain in position. She lets go, if only to grasp herself and align the tip of her cock over your entrance. You breathe out against the bedding as she pushes in barely over an inch, then withdraws. "S'eager for me... I'll have you stuffed full soon enough."

She makes quick on that promise with a swift, smooth roll of her hips forward. A choked whine spills from your lips as she stretches you open, curling your fingers into the sheets to ease every intake of air and relax around her further. But Vi's huge— there's so much of her, and she's yet to sheathe herself inside fully. The hand on your upper back slides down to instead splay over your tummy, fingers spread to press up against the soft flesh just as Vi's hips meet your backside.

She's in, fully and entirely, and you're thankful she's giving you a few seconds to get used to the slight burnt of the stretch. Her fingertips press against the bulge beneath the fat, and you shudder as her breath suddenly ghosts over your neck when Vi bows forward.

"Do you feel that? Feel me?" There's a certain level of mirth in her tone, amplified by the chuckle that follows when you groan as her hips draw back a few inches, then snap back forward just as quickly. "Made to take me, I swear it..."

That's the last Vi says before she begins to fuck you properly.

Every roll of her hips is calculated— firm and rough yet perfectly angled to hit that sweet spot within you. The sheer bulk of her body keeps you pinned beneath her with no ability to move. You can only take, and take, and take, gasping against the sheets as the head of her cock kisses your cervix every so often, and her fingers keep pressing against the bulge her size forms. Saliva drips from her mouth down onto your shoulder, and you choke on your breath slightly as Vi's tongue laps it up.

Her hand over your belly slides down, middle and ring finger reaching over to rub circles on your clit. She matches the speed of her thrusts with every caress against the bud of nerves, and Vi chuckles against your ear when your hips begin to eagerly meet hers. It's overstimulating, almost, given that you're still somewhat sensitive from that denied orgasm from earlier. But Vi cares not.

You can feel that warmth building up all over again— quicker now, with much more intensity. Vi can tell, as she quits alternating the speed of her thrusts and keeps her pace even.

"Can feel— you squeezing me already. Eager for me to fill you, is that it?" Vi grunts against your ear. Her throat's a little drier now, and there's the occasional hiccup between her words; she's close herself, obviously. "I'll stuff you full, baby. Knot you to keep it alllll in there, keep your womb warm and—"

She cuts herself off with a groan, driven by instinct to instead seal her mouth over your right shoulder with a firm bite. You cry out in a mix of pleasure and pain as your orgasm crashes over you, torn between the sweet flush of warmth it brings from head to toe, and the ache and burn her fangs cause by plunging into your flesh. Vi shudders as your blood hits her tongue, and she's quick to soothe the bite with her tongue before focusing on her own pleasure. Her thrusts are a little more clumsy now, quick and rough. She mutters against your shoulder, though given her teeth are still imbedded into your skin, leaves her words intelligible. You're sensitive, yet can still feel your cunt flutter around her cock in spasms to keep her going. It doesn't take long for Vi to meet her own end, and she comes with a deep groan against your shoulder.

Her knot forces its way in, earning a whimper from your throat at the extra and final stretch your walls are forced to accommodate. Vi's cock pulses, releasing thick and warm ropes of her seed into you. None of it leaks, not with the plug her knot acts as, settling deep in your womb— much like she had promised. It's a full minute before she ceases the slow rut of her hips and stills completely, and finally, she releases your shoulder and leans back to sit up on her knees.

It's an uncomfortable position, the one you two will be stuck in for a long while, so Vi settles for at least lowering your hips so that your stomach meets the mattress. Her thumb traces the indents of her teeth, wiping away the blood that still drips.

"We'll be here a while," She states, drawing a deep breath into her lungs before leaning down again. She exhales against your cheek and nuzzles her own over it, causing a slight shiver from you. "So get comfortable."