#werewolfdrabble

A little Maldelia Halloween drabble set in my Southside Werewolves universe.  Hope you like it, Soph!

11. “Oh, this isn’t a costume. This is my natural state of being.” 

Malachai x OC | 442 words

Cordelia finished pinning back her hair, tugging the red hood into place so that a few face-framing locks still drifted out. “I cannot believe you talked me into this, Malachai.”

“Why not?” He grinned, walking up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist. “Afraid the big, bad wolf’s going to eat you?” He nuzzled her neck, earning a ticklish laugh as his furry mask brushed against her neck.

“I bet you’d like to,” she laughed, wiggling out of his grip. “But not until after the party.”

He bit back a moan, the sound nearly a growl. “Fuck, babe, are you sure we have to go?”

“Yes, we do, Malachai,” she said, giving him a firm look.  When she took in his costume, a classic, furry, big bad wolf they had picked up at the costume store, she couldn’t help but smile. “Even if you do look ridiculous in that costume.”

He winked. “Bet you can’t wait to get it off me, love.”

She rolled her eyes, grabbing her shoes and walking past him into the living room.  Her long, red cape swept up in the movement, and she had to admit that she made a pretty good Little Red. “If anything, you’re going to need a shower after you take that thing off—it’s got to be hot as hell in there.”

He shrugged, following her into the living room and flopping on the couch while she laced up her boots. “Sounds like a great excuse for you to get in the shower with me.”

“Are you going to be horny all night?” she asked, giving him a skeptical look. “Because this is a family-friendly party, you know.”

“I promise I’ll behave, love,” he laughed, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek and bumping her with his plastic snout. “At least until we get home.  Then you can see what a big—”

“Don’t you dare, Malachai Martinez,” she laughed, shoving him. “I think you’re getting a little too into this costume.”

His eyebrows rose. “Oh, this isn’t a costume.  This is my natural state of being.”

Cordelia laughed and got up off the couch. “Malachai, you’re such a—” She cut off, her eyes widening as her mouth fell open. “Don’t you dare make any wolf jokes tonight, Malachai.”

Laughing, he got off the couch to pull her into a hug. “Babe, I’m not about to reveal my big furry secret to all of your coworkers at a Halloween party.”

She fixed him with a stern gaze. “You better not.”

Malachai bit back a laugh. “What, babe?  Don’t want everyone to know that you’re a monster fucker?”

“Malachai!”

A drabble in the Southside Werewolves Anthology

A slightly ridiculous Southside Werewolves drabble in which the youngest kids in the pack come across Malachai and Cordelia’s stash of sex toys and Sweet Pea finds everything hilarious.  Thanks to @rivendell101 for encouraging my nonsense and letting me borrow her OC’s, Isaac and Dexy!

warning: sexual humor

 934 words || Malachai x OC

Isaac and Dexy came tumbling into the house with ripped clothes and matching goofy grins.  While most guys came back from patrol exhausted, the two thirteen-year-olds always seemed to come back with just as much energy, if not more.

“Hey Cordelia!” Dexy laughed, giving his friend a shove to get through the door first. “Is dinner almost ready?  Sweet Pea said that dinner would be ready when we got back.”

Cordelia gave the boys a skeptical look, setting a lid on the pot on the stove. “Maybe when you get cleaned up a little.  How the heck did you trash your clothes?”

As if on cue, Sweet Pea pushed open the door, his eyebrows furrowed with frustration. “These two thought it would be funny to hide each other’s clothes all over the woods and play hide and seek with them.  Turns out wolf teeth aren’t kind on cheap t-shirts.”

Her eyebrows rose as she looked at the two boys.  Both of them slumped slightly—despite the fact that they were a few inches taller than Cordelia, she had a way of making them feel like little kids again when she gave them that look. “Really?” she drawled. “So that explains why you look like you left your clothes on for the change.” Smiling fondly, she jerked her head toward the bedroom down the hall. “You know where Malachai keeps spare clothes, right?”

“Sure do!” Isaac replied quickly, his smile widening. “Can we borrow some stuff?”

Rolling his eyes, Sweet Pea slumped into Malachai’s favorite recliner, smirking as he settled in. “Need any help, Cordelia?” he called, his voice carrying easily across the small house.

“Nah,” she called back, putting on oven mitts to carry the pot toward the sink. “Everything’s pretty much done.”

“Malachai working late tonight?” he asked, reaching around the side of the chair to pop out the footrest.

Cordelia set down the pot of drained pasta and walked into the living room.  When she saw where Sweet Pea was sitting, she chuckled. “You know his head’s going to explode when he sees you there, right?”

“All part of the plan, Cordelia,” Sweet Pea mused as he ran his fingers along the soft material. “The man’s too attached to this thing.”

She rolled her eyes, but just before she could turn back into the kitchen, Isaac and Dexy reappeared. Isaac’s eyes were wide, his entire face red-hot, and Dexy couldn’t seem to look up from his feet.  Neither of them had put on new clothes.  Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s up with you two?”

“I—um—we—” Isaac stammered.

Sweet Pea’s eyebrows knitted together as he tried to read their expressions. “For real, guys, what’s up? Find Malachai’s sex doll or something?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes, about to chastise him, but then she saw both boys stare decidedly down at their feet, ignoring Sweet Pea’s question.  In an instant, her stomach dropped. “You guys looked in the bottom drawer on the left, right?”

They murmured something incoherent, and Sweet Pea burst out laughing, clapping his hands together. “Holy shit, Cordelia, don’t tell me you guys keep your nasty stash that close to the spare clothes?”

Her face went bright red, and before she could stammer out a reply, the back door swung open, and Malachai strolled into the kitchen, his grin wide.  “Hey babe, what’s—"  Almost, immediately, he sensed something was off and jerked to a stop. “Something going on?”

“I just—”

“We didn’t mean to!”

Both boys spat out an explanation, their sentences trailing off when Malachai gave them a confused look.

“Didn’t mean to what?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

In the living room, Sweet Pea’s laughter had died down, but that got him going again. “They found your sex toy stash, Malachai,” he sputtered, barely able to get the words out between the bursts of laughter. “You guys really need to get a lock for that or something.”

Malachai’s eyes widened, and then they narrowed when he saw Sweet Pea. “Yeah, whatever.  More importantly, though, what the hell are you doing in my chair?”

Sweet Pea stifled a laugh, crossing his legs and resting his hands behind his head. “It’s a great chair, man, I see why you like it so much.”

“Enough!” Cordelia snapped, throwing her hands in the air.  Her face was still bright red as she started walking down the short hallway. “Chai, can you go get the boys some clothes?  I’m going to go to the bathroom and pretend I don’t exist.”

“Sure, babe,” he drawled, biting back a smirk as he turned to follow her toward the bedroom. “I’ll get right on that.”  

Chuckling, Sweet Pea kicked down the footrest and sat forward in the recliner.  He gave the boys an amused look. “So, guys, how’re you doing?”

“Deeply uncomfortable,” Dexy answered, shuffling over to the kitchen to sit down.  He looked up at the food sitting ready on the stove, licking his lips. “And hungry.”

Sweet Pea shrugged, smirking as he looked at Isaac. “And you?”

His face was still al scrunched up, and he crossed his arms as he puzzled over the question. Then, he looked up. “What do you use the black ball thing for?”

“Black ball thing?” Sweet Pea’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You know,” Isaac replied, gesturing vaguely. “It was like—well, a black ball with a strap on either end.”

“Oh,” Sweet Pea drawled, recognition hitting. “That’s a—”