#folio request

Comical: the only word Nicholas could use to describe Folio’s posturing. Nothing about his beast was intimidating, not even as he watched him rip apart members of an opposing coven—or those of his pack. Nicholas laughed, full bellied and cruel at Folio baring his teeth, snarled with crimson and viscera.

“Aren’t you just ferocious?” Nicholas mocked.

Nick threw his head back in laughter. From a distance, Noah couldn’t hear it, but he knew the sound well enough—a broken record inside his head. A crowded room and his gaze was drawn to him. All Noah could do was observe, yearn for the moments he was the reason Nick laughed so hard, or fell apart in hands he made a mess of.

He remained respectful of the boundaries Nick laid; slip ups were now far and few between, practically nonexistent, but it didn’t stop Noah from wanting. He supposed it was deserved.

As if he could feel his burning stare, Nick glanced his direction, smile faltering as their eyes locked. Noah’s chest tightened and twisted something awful. He should have looked away. Obviously Nick was in the middle of a conversation and it was rude of him to draw his attention—but he couldn’t. Those fawn like eyes kept him there, and Nick, stuck in a tar pit trap.

He’s unsure who broke first, but at some point, Noah found himself searching for a new wall to attach to. Nick was no longer on his line of sight and he no longer knew where he was.

“You’re not subtle, you know.”

Noah jumped at the voice. His heart settled briefly once he realized who it was, then spiked all over again because of who it was.

Nick leaned against the wall beside him, drink in hand, staring straight ahead at the crowd.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Noah deflected, joining him in staring at the sea of people.

He scoffed. “Please. If you stared at me any longer, I was gonna burst into flames.”

“I was just—“

“Staring at me like you wanted to tear me apart.”

“That’s—“ Noah glanced at him, finding a stone expression still fixed anywhere but him. “I was just making sure you were okay.”

Nick looked at him then, albeit brief, and not long enough for Noah to see anything below the surface.

“I appreciate the concern, but I don’t need you to worry about me, Noah.” He took a sip from his drink. “Especially while I’m on a date.”

“Hm, can’t be that serious if you brought them to a work event.”

“I’m plenty serious.” Nick deadpanned. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I might just ruin everything.”

What did that mean?

Noah didn’t get a chance to ask before Nick was gone, lost among the bodies. Every ounce of him wanted to chase, demand an explanation, plead for… he didn’t know, but he would beg. Instead, Noah stood shell shocked, unable to will his feet to move. Desperate eyes scanned the crowd. None of the brunettes were the right shade or height.

It wasn't unusual for Nick to be aloof when transformed. It'd taken a considerable amount of trust for him to even be around Jolly during those times, and while his wolf wasn't totally feral or wild, he still has his moments. More than a few times a cheeky little nibble devolved into biting; one time Jolly needed stitches and Nick did not come visit for weeks, perhaps even a month or two because he felt so guilty.

So Jolly cherished the moments when Nick was comfortable, safe enough to lounge with him in his small little cottage. He slept the hardest transformed—and Jolly didn't mind his snoring as much when it was coming from a sleepy, gigantic wolf. He smiled softly at the slumbering beast stretched across his couch. Gently, Jolly placed a hand on his head, softly petting and affectionately scratching the space just between his eyes. Nick stretched, then sighed heavily. Jolly chuckled quietly.

"Are you almost done?" Nick pouts.

"I would be if someone stopped moving and let me work." You teased, poking his cheek with the end of the make up brush.

He'd been squirrelly and fidgety the entire time you applied the prosthetic cut. Something that should have taken five minutes ended up being closer to fifteen. Nick twitched again, and you sighed.

"I'm sorry! I can't —"

His protesting was cut short by you leaning in close to his face. His eyes widened just a touch.

"If you don't stop moving, I am going to tie you down and make you." Your eyes flicked to his lips. "Is that what you want?"

Nick's shaking head was quick, but subtle. A small grin tugged at your lips.

Big, pretty brown eyes gazed up at you. Cheeks hollowed and working so hard to please you with his hard working mouth. You slipped your hand from his hair down and around to his throat, where you could feel the silicone cock snug inside. Nick groan when you pressed against it and resumed fucking his throat raw.

How he managed to be so enthusiastic without tears was a mystery to be marveled.

He swallowed and choked. Gagged and drooled. Whined like a bitch in heat that couldn't get enough. A right perfect, private little whore, and it was all for you.

Your other hand snaked to the space between his shoulders, and pushed. Nick choked again, the sound much more strained and teetering on painful. So much of your cock was already buried deep, but you needed deeper, deep enough that you could feel the gurgle of stomach acid.

You pushed and pushed and pushed until Nick's nose was scrunched and bent, until he was crying; until he couldn't breathe.

Perhaps it was maybe immature of your to grab his best man and take him in the bad of the media room, but you though it rather immature and inappropriate for your now ex fiancé to have his tongue down your maid of honor’s throat. Nick certainly had no qualms about it. The moment the door closed, he was on you, hands pulling and tugging at your wedding dress, trying to get at your body. He’d only managed to hike it it up. There were too many tiny buttons for him to bother with, and though you no longer needed the dress, it was far too warrant destroying it—at least right now.

"You're sexy when you're angry." Nick bite into your neck.

You clawed at his suit, the dark red you’d chosen for the groomsmen looking incredible on him. His fingers dipped into your lace panties and glided through your slick.

“You always this wet when you’re mad?” He teased, plunging his fingers in your hole.

Immediately, you started grinding down on your hand not caring at all how desperate it came across. Each slow drag of his fingers pulled a low moan from your chest. Nick curled his fingers and your knees just about gave out. The pleasure was unlike anything you’d every felt before.

“Do that again.” You begged.

He obliged happily, find that same spot with ease and delicately pressed it. Your legs started trembling.

“Could he do it like this?”

“Where’s my good girl gone, hm?” Nick ran his hand over your bare ass. “I’m not sure how much I like this bad girl bent over my lap.”

SMACK!

You cried out. The spank was harsh and loud. He smoothed over the warm skin, trying to soothe the mark. He grabbed a handful of your cheek before landing another stinging smack.

“Gonna leave that ass of yours red." Nick said, spanking you again. ”Apologize for your behavior.”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Nails dug into your skin.

"Did you just call me Daddy?" He pulled you farther down his lap, and spread your legs.

Nick cupped your heat, pressing his palm against your slick lips. The smack he landed on your pussy made you jolt and gasp.