Warnings: Scenting, Marking, Established relationship.
Synopsis: Lo’ak, wanting to pull a prank on his brother, hugs you and leaves his scent all over you. How does your boyfriend react when he smells it?
Word Count: 917
“You want to prank Neteyam?” Lo’ak questioned, face lighting up with mischievous interest. A slow grin tugged at his mouth, the kind that told you he was definitely up to no good. “Oh, I have an idea.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “That sentence alone is concerning.”
He leaned closer anyway, lowering his voice. “Trust me. It’ll be harmless. For the most part,” he said, mumbling the last bit.
Reluctantly, you sighed and nodded. “Fine. But if he gets mad, I’m blaming you.”
Lo’ak laughed under his breath, clearly pleased, and before you could react, he reached forward and pulled you into a hug. It was sudden, but playful, his arms settling gently around your upper back. He was careful, and respectful with it, but he stayed a moment longer than necessary, chin resting atop your head, while his palms rubbed in circular motions against your back.
You rolled your eyes but smiled, hugging him back innocently, wondering what kind of prank he had planned.
“Just a hug? How’s that a prank?” you asked after pulling back, giggling and genuinely confused.
“You’ll see,” Lo’ak replied with a sly grin.
Unbeknownst to you, his scent clung to your skin afterward.
Later that day, the forest was bathed in the dim gold of the nearing eclipse when, from afar, you spotted Neteyam near the training grounds. He was focused, absorbed in the careful act of cleaning his knife, with a calm, relaxed aura surrounding him.
You called his name softly at first, then a little louder, jogging toward him with a smile that stretched across your entire face.
Hearing his name being called by a familiar voice, he looked up toward your approaching figure, and his expression softened the moment he saw you. Without hesitation, he set his knife and cloth aside, standing with open arms, followed by you crashing into him. His embrace was comforting and enveloping, his strong arms gentle around you, breath warm against the top of your head. Your cheek pressed softly against his chest, and your arms wrapped gently around his neck as you stood on your tiptoes.
Then, out of nowhere, his arms loosened from around you. You pulled back slightly, confused, and looked up at him just as his expression shifted. His brows were furrowed, eyes dark. Before you could ask what was wrong, his hands came up again, gripping your arms as he leaned down toward you.
And then, he inhaled, once, and then again shortly after, much to your confusion. Quickly, his nose traced the top of your head, following along your collarbone, then your neck, his breathing deepening with each inhale, as if he were trying to pinpoint the scent of someone familiar.
With the realization hitting him, Neteyam froze. He pulled back suddenly, eyes locking on you, jaw clenched, ears pinned slightly back in tension.
“Why,” he asked slowly, voice tight with jealousy, trying to compose himself, “do you smell like Lo’ak?”
You blinked, completely thrown off. Your mind went blank, scrambling to make sense of his sudden behavior and question.
Then, it came to you: the hug from Lo’ak earlier, that playful, innocent prank he had suggested, was playing out right now. Your confusion disappeared at the realization, and before you could stop yourself, a laugh slipped out, small and incredulous, as you looked up at his furious face.
Neteyam’s jaw tightened further. “This is funny to you? His scent is dripping off of you,” he said, with an irritated scowl on his face.
You quickly blinked up at him, cheeks warming. “I didn’t even notice! He just hugged me,” you stammered, laughing nervously.
Before you could clarify that it was a prank, without warning, his hands began moving almost instinctively, gliding over your body, sliding along your back, tracing the curve of your sides, holding you close as though he would never let go. He leaned down, pressing his cheek against the soft skin where your neck met your shoulder, and slowly dragged it up to the side of your neck, lips brushing just beneath your ear. Soft, involuntary sighs escaped your lips in response to his intimate touch.
Although you enjoyed his sudden affection, it left you confused. You slightly tilted your head away, and he followed immediately, matching your movements, and keeping you pressed close.
“Neteyam?” you whispered, heart racing from the contact.
He didn’t look up. His voice was gruff, breath hot against your flushed skin. “Mine,” he murmured, lips brushing over the pulse at your neck before latching on, sucking gently for a moment before pulling away. “I don’t want you smelling like him. You’re mine. You should smell like me.”
At his words, a soft whimper slipped from your lips, your knees going weak as your body melted further into his roaming touch, responding to the possessive marks and the raw jealousy lacing his voice.
He stayed pressed against you for a minute longer, inhaling his scent radiating from your neck, before pulling back just enough to take in your flustered expression, with a small, satisfied smirk tugging at his lips.
“Now,” he uttered, voice husky and low, “no one is coming near you, especially not my skxawng brother. And if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to skin him for touching my girl.”
Before you could protest, he strode off with purpose. You scrambled after him, calling out that it was just a prank, but it didn’t slow him down in the slightest. If anything, it only made him walk faster. Lo’ak really should’ve known better!
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i see everyone talk about scruffing, purring, nesting, scenting, all the things ! but i never see anyone talk about lovingly holding in your mouth. cmere and let me gently bite your arm for a second because i love you <3
A tip for animals that want to mimic scenting behaviors and scent glands: spray a liberal amount of perfume/cologne/fragrance mist around the areas where your glands would be (or where non-functional glands are), then practice scenting against things like wall corners, doorways, the legs of beds/desks, plushies, even other people if they consent, by rubbing those areas against said object or person. You should do this about 30 seconds to 2 or 3 minutes after applying the spray.
In some cases you can find concentrated pheromone oils/sprays for game animals. These are meant for hunters but nothing is stopping you from using it as a casual outing scent, other than some people being irritated by the smell. I wouldn't recommend putting them directly on the skin, I've gotten some on my hand and had mild irritation afterwards, but you can do roughly the same act by spraying it on clothing and rubbing the clothing against objects.
I also would recommend sticking to cheaper sprays for this since you'll have to spray *more than average* for anything to transfer, unless you're doing it seconds after applying which could feel unnatural. Theres also always the alternative of just spraying it directly on the object which takes less sprays for any scent to stay, I think thats what most people already do, but again it'll feel less natural doing it that way.
As always you can research where your species' scent glands are and their scenting rituals if you're unsure, or you can stick to the most efficient glands spots and rituals. I do a mix of both depending on what I'm scenting and where I am.
Eddie's still a couple miles from home when the van dies. The engine gives a few pitiful putters before groaning and rolling to a definitive stop. He drops his head to the steering wheel, letting out a groan of his own.
He was at the Hideout, it's like 1am, and he can't sleep out in the van, not after last time, when Powell found him.
He's walking home. The shortest route is to cut through the woods, which he hates, but the moon is out and there's still some leftover late-August mugginess in the air, so it's fine. It's fine. Not like there's anything to be scared of in the forests of Hawkins, Indiana.
He's close to home when he trips on an exposed root, scrapes his hand against the sticks and rocks on the forest floor.
"Fuck, shit," he mutters. In the weak light of the moon, he sees the gleaming red seeping from the cut on his palm. It stings. He swipes it on his jeans, keeps going.
The nature sounds go quiet all at once, like someone turned them off, and goosebumps raise on the back of his neck.
Further into the woods, off to his left, something lets out a high-pitched chitter, nothing like he's ever heard before. His heart rate skyrockets, feet moving faster now. There's a flashlight in the van he wishes he thought to bring with him; why hadn't he grabbed it?
He hears the snap and crackle of branches and dead leaves under heavy feet, the crashing through the woods growing louder as the thing moves closer. In the dark of the trees he sees a massive, hulking shape, certainly not human, running straight at him.
Eddie stumbles back--
A dark shape leaps from the woods to his right, a strangled scream slips from his throat but--
It's a...dog?
That doesn't make sense, it's too big, too--
It positions itself in front of Eddie, thick growl rumbling straight through his bones.
This close, he can see that it's a wolf, but that's wrong too. There aren't wolves in Indiana, and it's still too big, bigger than any wolf he's ever seen on Wild Kingdom.
It snarls, creeps towards the other creature still lurking between the trees.
He's terrified to move, to get the attention of either of these things, but then the wolf turns, illuminated in the moon glow. Its coat is thick, chestnut and light brown. Its eyes are bright hazel with flecks of gold, clear and intelligent. His stomach swoops, but not with fear.
It whips its attention away, but it's pressing against him, pushing him back towards civilization.
A fleshy, wet humanoid leg emerges from the tree line and the wolf makes a terrible noise as it lunges. He takes off running.
His body wasn't made for sprinting, but he keeps going until he reaches the trailer, until he throws himself through the front door. He stays there, leaning against it, until he stops shaking. He needs a joint, like ten of them, needs to forget this night ever happened, because what the fuck.
Later, when he's so high he can't move, he can't stop thinking about the wolf's eyes, that there was something weirdly familiar about them.
The next morning, he hardly remembers any of it.
When he bothers to go to school the next week, Steve Harrington says hi to him, even though they've never spoken before.
He doesn't go back into the woods.
---
Steve keeps saying hi to him, like it's normal for them. Then again, Steve now spends most of his time with this junior from band, Robin Buckley. Anyway, who the hell knows what's normal anymore.
There's this one night in early November, he's smoking on the porch, giddy from finishing a song, smiling up at the full moon.
And he's so happy, elated, electrified by creativity, that he forgets about the woods, finds himself staring right into them.
A pair of golden eyes stare back.
He's not afraid.
That same swooping sensation from before grips his stomach, doesn't let up.
The wolf steps forward, not out of the trees, just closer. Without thought, he mimics the move.
There's a soft rustle of brush and the eyes blink out. Eddie keeps staring, transfixed. His heart's speeding but not with fear.
---
By January, he's actual, real life friends with Steve Harrington. They're hanging out like that's a regular thing they do. He supposes, by now, it is.
He also meets the gaggle of eighth graders that follow Harrington around like ducklings. When they find out he runs a dnd club, they become obsessed with him too.
He doesn't see the wolf again.
---
Eventually, he forgets all about why he's supposed to avoid the woods.
He plans a deal at Skull Rock, thoughtless, and once he's there he's not scared at all. The sun is high in the sky, the air warm, birds swoop and sing and insects chirp.
Eddie clamors up the rock, pulls his notebook and a pen out of his back pocket.
He only means to stay for a little bit, maybe an hour or two, but it's so nice out, and you can't really blame a guy if his eyes get a little heavy. If maybe he doesn't quite try to fight the urge to sleep.
When he wakes up, it's full dark.
The moon is out, stars bright, but the birds are gone and so is the heat of the day. He shivers, and it's got very little to do with the cold. If he runs, he can make it back to the van in five minutes, probably less.
A creeping chitter crackles through the air and the night bugs go quiet.
Eddie curls his knees into his chest. He remembers now, why he needed to stay out of the forest.
There's a shadow that separates itself from the cover of the underbrush. It moves in silence, not even a stick or a leaf cracking where it steps. It stops in front of the rock, lips pulled back to reveal long, deadly teeth. It's growling softly.
The wolf.
"I'm sorry," Eddie says. Doesn't know why he's talking to it. "I lost track of time, I--I'm sorry."
The wolf tosses its head, annoyed, and again he's struck by the odd familiarity of the gesture. It turns its attention from him, pacing along the clearing, Its body carefully placed between Eddie and whatever is lurking in the deeper forest.
Hours pass that way, the wolf's focus never faltering even when nothing appears. The sky brightens, and the danger doesn't seem so immediate. The wolf lays down at the base of the rock formation, and Eddie finally lets himself relax too. He falls asleep between one blink and the next.
A bright beam of sunlight hits him just across the eyes, dragging him back to consciousness. There's a hazy second where he doesn't remember anything about where he is or what happened, but it's kind of hard to ignore what sleeping on a big rock does to your body.
He also realizes--he's not alone. There's someone on the rock with him. Someone sturdy and radiating heat, their body nestled tight against his.
Eddie springs up, heart racing, to find--
Steve Harrington. Naked Steve Harrington. Curled up with him on Skull Rock. What the fuck
He thinks he's going to choke on his tongue.
Steve is gorgeous. So fucking hot. All his sun-kissed skin on display, the constellations of freckles and moles, and--god, he's just a little bit hard. And Eddie gets it, okay, he knows it just happens sometimes, but Steve's a little hard, and perfectly pink at the tip, and Eddie--
He pulls the leather jacket from around his own shoulders, places it over Steve's waist, but even though he's careful--gentle--Steve stirs, nose wrinkling.
Eddie draws away, nervous, as Steve blinks to wakefulness, staring right at him.
"Wha--" he wipes the sleep from eyes his and Eddie watches as understanding dawns on Steve's handsome face. "Oh. Fuck."
And Eddie, he's putting it together, he thinks. He thinks--the familiar golden hazel eyes and the annoyed shake of the head and--it's not possible. It's not. But how is Steve here right now? Why is he naked? What reason besides--
"It's you?" He breathes, doesn't even really mean to say it aloud.
Steve gives one sharp nod, looks away.
"You're a werewolf?" Eddie's voice breaks.
"Shu--it's not--I'm--" Steve's shoulders sag. "Yeah, I guess I'm a werewolf."
"Holy shit, Steve. Holy. Shit. Are there more? Jesus Christ."
"I'm the only one that I know of."
"But-- Weren't you bitten? Or--don't tell me--were you born like this?"
"Um. I was bitten by a dog that seemed completely normal. Obviously--" he gestures to himself. "Something was going on there. We think--"
"Sorry, we? There's a we?"
"Oh, well, Robin, Nancy, and Jonathan know. So do Dustin and the rest of the kids. Joyce Byers. Hopper--"
"The POLICE CHIEF knows you're a WEREWOLF," Eddie yells. It startles some birds in a nearby tree, making both he and Steve flinch.
Steve's ears go red. "Hop, he's not--not bad. We--he's helped us out a couple times. Um, there's also a doctor? Who knows? He works for the government and he's trying to figure out why I'm, you know."
"What the fuck, Steve. Like. What the fuck? A government doctor knows you're a werewolf?"
"It's um. You've heard the stories about something being wrong with Hawkins?" Eddie nods. "They're not just stories."
It's a lot to take in. That Hawkins really is cursed, that Steve really is a werewolf, that--
"So, that was actually a--a monster? In the woods? And you--you were, what, looking out for me?"
"Well, I wouldn't need to if you stopped going into the goddamn forest!" There's that annoyed head shake.
"I didn't mean to!'
"What about yesterday??"
"I didn't mean to fall asleep!"
"For fuck's sake, Eddie!"
"I'm sorry!" He throws his hands up. "You could've told me there was a monster."
Steve glares. "Yeah, cause that's an easy conversation. 'Hey, Ed, just so you know, monsters are real. I'm kinda one of them. And some of them in the woods around Hawkins want to eat you'."
"It would've been helpful! And that night, at the trailer, you were--?"
"Making sure you were okay."
"But. Why?"
"Don't you feel it?"
And Eddie doesn't even have to ask what it is. "Yeah, I--yeah."
Their eyes lock and his stomach goes all warm and swoopy. Eddie forces a laugh, forces himself to look away. "So, being a werewolf made you gay?"
Steve coughs out a choked sound. "No, I--no. I was--before."
Honestly, this information is more shocking than Steve being a werewolf. "But--King Steve. All those girls?"
"Robin thinks I was--um--what's it called? Like using that to avoid that I'm also attracted to, you know, dudes. "
"And--it's--Sorry, but this is insane. It's me? That you like?"
Steve laughs. "Why is it easer to believe that I'm a werewolf?"
"I don't--I guess it's cause I've seen you as a werewolf."
"To be fair, you've also seen me, who is gay."
"That's--that's--" Eddie splutters. "Fair."
"Do you remember performing in that talent show?" Steve asks.
"In junior high? Yeah."
"I thought you were really--you did a good job."
"Oh. You--huh." Eddie hides his face in his hands, tries to smother the laugh, but it's impossible.
"Don't--" Steve shoves at him, "Don't laugh! I--you were cute! Goofy! I thought you had nice hands!"
"That's all it takes?" He smirks, can't help but be pleased that Steve's had a crush on him all this time, that it's always been mutual.
"You were nice," Steve says. He's serious now. "You were always kind."
He doesn't know what to say to that, how to hide his growing blush. "So, your werewolf senses know that you like me," he teases.
Steve's neck is read now too. "Um. Yeah? I--yeah. Robin says it's fera--feram--that I'm drawn to your scent"
"Oh, pheromones. Oh." And it's all sort of hitting him now, that this is real, that Steve--he and Steve--oh. "I, uh, like you too, if that wasn't obvious."
"I know." Steve taps the tip of his nose. "I can smell it."
"That's--oh god--that's. So embarrassing. All this time??"
"Only this year"
"That doesn't make it better! Oh my god."
"You've got it so bad," Steve sing-songs, pulls Eddie closer.
"I can't believe the werewolf of Hawkins has a supernatural crush on me."
"Werewolf of--no, absolutely not. You are not calling me that." Steve swats at him.
"Oooh, yes, I am." He pushes Steve back.
"Do you know what will happen if Dustin hears that?"
"Unfortunately for you, that's not a deterrent."
"You're going to be so much trouble--" Steve moves to grab him, Eddie's jacket slipping down his torso. "Oh shit, I'm naked."
"You are very much naked." Eddie can't help his wide grin.
"Don't--don't be gross about it."
"Oh, so you think you'd be normal about waking up to the guy you have a massive crush on naked next to you?"
"I--I--" Steve goes crimson. "Shut-up!"
Eddie giggles, leans into him, and Steve twines their fingers together.
"Okay, but let's get out of here? There's only so long I can tolerate being naked sitting on a rock."
They climb down, Eddie valiantly not oogling Steve the entire time.
"So, do you only turn at the full moon? Does it hurt? How did everyone find out? You have to tell me about the other monsters. Are there vampires? Is anyone else I know a monster? Oh my god, is Robin a witch?"
Steve sighs, can't quite hide the grin pulling at his lips. "I'm not answering all that."
"Steve!"
"I've signed a bunch of NDAs."
"A bunch of--what the hell? Steve! You can't just--"
Steve grabs his hands, squeezes. "I'll tell you. All of it. Promise. Just, not right now?"
Eddie bites his lip in thought, tries not to notice Steve staring at his mouth. "Ugh, fine. But I won't forget you owe me explanations. Plural!"
"Yeah, yeah." Steve rolls his eyes, tugs Eddie forward.
They walk a few steps in silence before Eddie belts out, "Aroooooo, werewolves of Hawkins!" before taking off through the trees.
"Eddie, seriously?" Steve calls after him, only to be met by the echo of his laughter. "Are you really trying to outrun a werewolf right now? I mean, honestly."
"Catch me if you can, sweetheart."
Steve's laugh is a little bit like a bark as he starts to chase.
my boy and I wearing matching collars/dog tags out in public
holding his belt loop in crowded areas so he doesn't get pulled away
writing my initials on the bottoms of his boot so I'm always on him
holding him extra tight before he goes out alone so my cologne gets on him
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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