#wolf chan

“He didn’t tell you where he was going?” she asked you, stepping over a patch of moss. 

Clinging to her sweatshirt, both of your hoods up, you shrugged and hopped over a puddle, taking her with you. “Nope. He usually does, if he’s got work or something, but he disappeared. Didn’t even stop at the corner of Wattz and Fallon’s.”

Pouting, she gave you a glance, her glittery eyeshadow gleaming in the warm glow of the ancient street lights. “He always stops.”

Copying her face, you mumbled, “I know. He always stops.”

“Maybe,” she sang, swinging your arm around, skipping a few times, “He’s surprising you.”

A gentle roll of your eyes made her giggle. “Cute, but he’s not surprising me,” you said, looking up at the grey, almost black sky. “Something’s up.”

Yuna’s curious eyes followed yours, squinting at the abyss that lived above you. “Like what, has he been okay?”

“I think so,” you sighed, scouring the sky. Letting go of her, you spun around and walked backwards, eyes pointed up. “He would tell me, though. He’s always told me.”

Burying her hands in the pocket on her front, she asked, “Told you what?”

Furrowing your brows, you shook your head and turned around, hooking your arms together again. “Nothing. It’s nothing, he’s fine, he’ll call me.”

A gentle smile bled onto her cheeks. “He’ll call,” her voice lilted, a cutesy song, “He likes you.”

Groaning aloud, dramatically, you knocked into her side, nearly pushing her into the constant flood of water that flushed down the curbs of Jiangshi. “Let it go,” you muttered, “He said it once. We said it once.”

Yuna wiggled her brows, leaning into you, her lips almost grazing your cheek. “And you guys have been ignoring it since!” She jumped on her feet. “Get to it!”

Scoffing, you shot her a glare. “There is nothing to get to, Yuna. It’s… complicated.”

“How?” Bouncing her knees once, dragging her feet, she droned on, “You guys have known each other for so long, you’ve been friends for so long, you’ve both had feelings for so, so, so long, you should’ve never been just friends in the first place.”

“We’re just better this way,” you said quietly, looking back up into the clouds. 

She blinked at you, then tipped her chin backward. “What the hell are you looking at? It’s Jiangshi, it always looks the same. Dark, raining, miserable.” 

Tugging her closer to you, for warmth, for comfort, you averted your glare to the ground and shrugged loosely. “Nothing, just… looking for the moon.”

Pushing your apartment door open with your sneaker, you stepped in, flicked on the yellow lights that buzzed to life and flickered occasionally, and stripped yourself of your wet clothes. Shoes first, you kicked them off by the door, leaving them there to dry next to the other three pairs in your rotation of Jiangshi weather safe shoes. Pulling your hoodie off from the bottom, you turned the corner into your smaller bedroom and threw it in the hamper next to the bathroom door, doing the same to your jeans, slipping yourself into sweats to shield you from the Jiangshi cold. 

Pulling your hair back, your socked feet took you into the kitchen that ate up half of the space with the living room. Yanking open cabinets you pulled down a mug and some kind of tea your aunt sent you to the city with. She told you it helped ward off colds and different sicknesses one could catch from the dreary weather. It tasted good, though an acquired taste at first, cinnamoney, some peppermint, a bit of warm and cool all at once, a type of sensation that began to help you sleep after you became accustomed to it. It would knock you out all night, nothing could wake you up.

Turning the water on the stove, you leaned against the counter and folded your arms over your chest. Pictures lined your cabinets, polaroids, strips from photobooths, photos on printer paper, all full of friends, a few of you and your aunt, most of them you and Chris…

His wide, real, genuine smile, brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. The sunshine in Jiangshi. Your sunshine. You couldn’t help but smile too, every time he would. Even looking at the photos, you felt it in your cheeks. Comfort. A constant in your life that moved all the way out here with you, two people not knowing where the hell they were going in life, but knowing that they needed to do it together.

Jiangshi’s been good to you both, school rocked, you fell in love with your classes, your professors, but for Chris, it changed his life entirely. 

You knew him, deep down to his core, he’s never belonged anywhere more than he has in Jiangshi. Up in Iloa, a dry city full of stuck up assholes, you both found a place you belong here, but Chris, he found family. 

It was hard to not feel jealous, a lot of his time he used to spend with you, he now gave it to the friends he’s made, the family he’s found, and as much as you understood, as much as you knew he needed it, it hurt. 

Your constant became an every now and again. A ‘maybe I can, let me just see what Minho is doing…’. You became a filler in his life, someone he’d come to when everyone else was busy. 

You’ve met his friends, seven of them all with the same sharpness in their features, the puppy in their eyes, the literal warmth radiating off of their bodies– God, you’d hate to be stuck in close quarters with all of eight of them at once, testosterone aside, the body heat, you’d suffocate. You can hardly handle sitting too close to Chris on the couch.

They were a great group of guys, Chris has told how they’ve taken him in, how much they’ve taught him, the confidence they’ve fed him… He found his place. He found his pack. 

But, that used to be you.

You were his pack. Words spoken to you back home in Iloa under a new moon, embracing the utter calm before the storm.

The feelings were new, though they’ve been buried within both of you for years. Neither of you expressed feeling more until a month ago. In his car, parked down an alleyway in the rain, housing a pizza while the CD he burnt for you played on repeat in the background of your giggles and endless chatter. Somehow the pizza box ended up on the floor of the backseat, somehow you crawled over the console, somehow you wound up in his lap, and somehow, someway, he had kissed you.

It’s been weird since then.

That night, one that made you feel things you’ve never felt before, the look in his eyes, the flash of gold brand new to either of you, something he’s never done, or been able to do, something shifted.

Something changed.

And though he hasn’t been avoiding you, that night hasn’t ever been talked about since it happened, but he wasn’t exactly making an effort to see you.

Pouring the boiling water into a mug, tea leaves swirling in the ceramic before settling to the bottom, you hooked the handle around your fingers and started for the couch, tiptoeing, being oh, so careful to not spill a drop on the floor–

BAM! BAM! BAM!

You spilled more than a drop.

Leaping backward, tea splattering over the floor, body taking a screenshot, you nearly tossed the mug onto the counter, spilling even more tea over the linoleum. 

“What the fuck,” you grumbled, wiping your hands on your sweats, checking them for burns, unable to process what had just happened.

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Spinning around, eyes wide, your door shook with the force it was banged upon.

Doors didn’t open in Jiangshi, not after you were already inside. Once inside, you stayed inside. Anyone who came with you stayed inside as well, no strays allowed. 

“It’s me, let me in!” Except one. “Please,” his voice broke, his accent thicker than ever, and… was he slurring his words? “Fuck, I can’t…” The sound of him moved away from the door, the shuffling of his feet heard on the wood of the landing outside.

Stepping closer, you shouted, “Chris?”, and heard him gasp.

Then, the hair on your arms sprung straight up, a chill shot down your spine, and your ears were pierced by the disgusting sound of sharp nails on metal. Dragging. Digging. Carving their way into the doorframe. 

Covering your ears until he deemed himself satisfied, you grabbed onto the doorknob and held it tight, peering out of the viewer you could only see the top of his head. Wet, stringy blonde hair pushed backward, his head hanging forward, down, his shoulders rising and falling significantly, heaving air through his lungs. He looked like himself, just tired. And soaked.

Both hands were pressed to either side of the door, waiting. 

Patient.

And when he lifted his head, a shock shot through your nervous system.

Bright, burning golden eyes glowed in the dark of night, his sharp canines extended in both rows of gorgeous teeth, his lips parted, brows pulled together, distraught, somewhat hurt… Actually hurt. A gash on his bottom lip greeted you after his tongue swiped over it, red staining his teeth. On his arms, scratches upon scratches, not deep enough to worry, but enough to discipline. 

Your heart squeezed between your lungs. This has happened before, a fight with one of the guys, one he cowered away from after learning his place, where he stood, and he came to you, and you patched him up. You took care of him, and he slept on your couch, and he sipped that special tea.

That night his eyes didn’t glow. That night his canines weren’t growing, and retracting, and growing again, nor did he have the need to dig his nails into absolutely anything, they never even made an appearance even after his moans and groans in protest of the sting of you cleaning his wounds. 

“I can’t let you in,” you said softly, keeping your voice steady. 

Tilting his head sideways, squeezing his eyes shut, nose scrunching, he muttered a fast and quiet, “Yes-you-can.”

Glancing at the locks on your door, one on the handle and two security hooks inches above it, you moved slowly and latched them both, doing your utmost best to not make a sound. His nails creased the metal of the doorframe and your whole body cringed. Peering out at him, he tipped his head back and whined. More animal than anything. 

“Don’t, don’t,” he breathed, pushing from the door, digging his hands in his hair. His elbows were just as scuffed as the rest of him. His black t-shirt, filthy. His dark ripped denim jeans, filthy. “Don’t use those locks, let me in, please.”

“Chris, I can’t, you know that,” you said, your tone gentle.

His head tilted again, the other way, a sharp movement that made his eyes shut once more, like the sound of your voice triggered him. Watching him stagger backward, you can see that he’s more bulky than his usual form, his muscles bulged in his sleeves, his chest threatening to rip through the fabric. The curve in his back, the slightest hunch, the bend in his knees, ever so small, but there.

“What is happening, the moon isn’t full,” you said, and he winced, teeth baring, teetering forward, not in control of himself, slamming against the door, his claws digging into it. Jumping away at the force, you withheld the yelp in your throat, knowing that if he heard you, and you were scared, he’d never forgive himself. Leaning back into it, laying a hand over your chest, you peered through the viewer. “Where did you come from?”

He lifted his head. The glow of his eyes had gone back to normal, sweet caramel chocolate swirl a relief to see. Gasping for air, his teeth having not retracted just yet, he shook his head. “Minho’s,” he mumbled.

“Why did he hurt you?”

Chris clenched his jaw and swallowed, tightening his brow, humming to himself as gold began to course through his irises. “Mmm’he didn’t,” he mumbled, loosing a breath, some sort of smile gracing his pretty lips, a flash of Chris, your Chris. “I hurt him,” he admitted, trying to laugh, “I can’t… control this right now.”

Throat tightening, you took a breath. Minho. “So, he what? Set you free? Fought back, lost, set you loose on the city? Great leader you’ve got there.”

He growled.

Oops.

Teeth shooting out, eyes flashing red for all of two seconds, he threw both fists at the door and shouted. “Keep his name out of your mouth!”

“Chris!” Raising your voice although it shook, you shifted your hands to your belly, holding onto yourself tight.

A whine ripped through him, a pathetic gasp to follow. Face contorting in anguish, he collapsed onto the door, laying his cheek to it. “M’sorry,” he whispered, “I didn’t mean that, I can’t- I can’t-”

Pressing yourself to the door, you sighed. “Can’t control it, I know, it’s okay, Chris.”

Moving faster than humanly possible, he shot straight up, eyes aglow with gold. You heard his hands, his palms brush over the door, no nails to follow. Gaze darting around, searching, his brain logging things impossible to you, his nose scrunched and he groaned. 

“He sent me here.”

Your eyes went wide. “W-Who did? Minho?”

Chris swallowed, eyes narrowing, nose twitching with a frown of his lips. “Yeah,” he whispered, and you heard his hands move around the door. “There was nothing he could do for me.”

Appalled, you scoffed and tapped your fingers on the door. “And, there’s something here I can do for you?”

He looked directly at the viewer, startling you. “Yes,” he whispered. He blinked, the gold dimming. Slamming his palms on the door, he walked backward a few steps and shook his head. “No, what the fuck,” he mumbled to himself, dragging his hands through his hair and over his face. “No, no, no. Tell me to leave,” he said, walking back up to the door, “Tell me to leave, right now.”

“Chris, you’re hurt, and you’re not okay, I can’t just-”

He slammed his hands to the door, harder than ever, the vibrations moving through the metal, moving through you. “Tell me to leave! Now!” His scream, it should’ve scared you, should’ve been the red flag, but the gold of his eyes, the gold you saw that night in his car, on his lap, his hands on your waist, little space between you, between kisses…

You put the tip of your finger on one of the locks.

One little slide and it would come undone.

Chris tightened his jaw. “What are you doing?”

Incredible how you made no sound, yet he could hear you.

Golden eyes glanced into the viewer, glanced at you.

Pushing with your finger, you let the chain clang against the doorframe, and watched him berate with himself once more. Somewhere between man and wolf, his consciousness fist fighting for control and losing miserably. 

“Don’t. Don’t, please, don't," he mumbled as your finger moved on top of the second lock. “If I can smell you through the door, I won’t be able to… Don’t do it. Tell me to leave.”

Your whisper made him moan. “You won’t hurt me.”

His fists hit the metal. “That was before…”

“Before, what?” You slid the second lock open, and he sighed, his teeth sharpening, his eyes burning brighter, the sounds he made growing louder. 

“Don’t open the door,” he begged, “Please, I can’t… I won’t be able to stop. I know I said let me in, don’t listen to me. Do-not-listen-to-me.”

The last lock ticked, and he snapped. Eyes pointed at the handle, body on alert. So still it was as if anyone could walk by and not see him. 

You’ve never felt more like prey in your life.

But, why did it feel… good?

Twisting the handle, he didn’t move. He didn’t move until you pulled the door all the way open. He barely got a look at you before he curled into himself, pressing his hands to his face, over his eyes, over his nose. Collapsing backward, he fell against the doorframe and groaned so loud it rang in your ears.

“Chris,” you whispered, and he shot you a glare, clawing his hands at his sides, no nails in sight.

Eyes burning gold, he scrunched his nose and took a step into your apartment, slamming the door behind him. Large, bulky, strong. Much, much bigger than you. Though he looked himself, he most certainly was not himself. With one heavy step toward you, almost a charge, you leapt back some and he hurled himself into the kitchen. The dramatics. Throwing himself over a counter, burying his head in his hands, he groaned, body and muscles twitching, trying to move, his consciousness holding his own.

“...alone, leave it alone, can’t, can’t, can’t…not right…why’d he make me do this…smell, the smell…” 

You made out every other word of his grumbles. 

“Smell?” you questioned. “That’s the second time you’ve said that.”

Snapping his neck, he glared at you. Pure wolf. “You smell.”

Blinking, lips parted with an afterthought, you scoffed. “Excuse me?” Taking a hand to your hoodie, you lifted it to your nose. Soft lavender. “I changed when I got home. If anyone smells, it’s you, wet dog.”

He tried a smile, still bent over the counter. “That’s what you smell?” Rolling your eyes, you nodded. “Keep it that way,” he whispered.

“Why?”

“...Because.”

“Because, why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Because you said so?”

He pounded his fists into the counter, standing up to full height, shoulders rolling back, asserting every bit of dominance. “Just listen to me.”

Every muscle in your body that had tensed since he first knocked on the door had seemed to relax. “Okay,” you whispered, and he whined, collapsing back over the counter. “Chris, what’s happening?”

His nails sprung out, hands grasping the linoleum for stability. “Tell me… to leave,” he muttered into his beefy bicep, voice low, gravely.

“No, Chris, what the fuck, I am not telling you to leave, there is something wrong and I’d rather you be here with me, then out there-”

Pushing himself off the counter, he stumbled backward into the stove, clawing at his t-shirt. Breath ragged, he shook his head with vigor, his brows pleading with you in a language you didn’t understand. “You don’t have any idea what’s happening,” he grumbled. 

Glancing around your apartment, you held out your hands and let them fall to your thighs. “Do I look like I know?”

In three quick paces he was in front of you, looking down at you, centimeters from your face, body heat wrapping around your throat, your lungs, your middle, your core. Breathing through his nose, his golden eyes fluttered shut and he sighed, shakily, jaw squaring, body stiffening, throat contracting…

Turning away from you, he hurried a step into the living room and folded himself in half over your couch, more unintelligible moans and groans falling from his lips. 

“Chris,” you opened your hands once more, following behind him. Whirling around, he grabbed your wrists and yanked you into him, wedging you between him and the sofa. Towering above you, his thighs pressing into yours, broad chest impenetrable– you were stuck. “Chris.”

Taking your trembling voice for what it was, he rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning into you, lips brushing over the shell of your ear. “Your body,” he whispered, chills erupting down your arms, your legs, “Begs to be bred.”

Gasping, wriggling in his grasp, you cursed your legs for how they pressed together, for how your body seemed to react. He moved slow, pulling his lips, his hot breath from your ear and the expanse of your neck, looking down at you with warm glowing eyes. Alluring. 

Gazing up at him, his sharp features, you whispered, “I-I’m… I’m…”

 “Ovulating,” he spat through his teeth. His voice, broken, gritty. “Fertile.”

Sucking in a breath, a warmth spreading under your skin that had his chest heaving, you whispered, “And, you can, you can-”

He curled his lip, leaning into you. “Smell it.”

“Right,” you breathed, and he parted his lips to drink it in, a soft growl on his tongue, his eyes dropping to your mouth, “And… because you can… You want to-”

His eyes flickered to yours. “Fuck you.”

A barely there whimper fell out of you, and he started to smirk. “You’re in heat,” you stated, and he ran his tongue over his teeth, his canines, his consciousness slipping further and further away the longer he stood this close to you. Gulping, your own consciousness telling you to run from this, the pull of his gaze and the warmth of his body and the strength in his grip and the promise of receiving a piece of him you’ve wanted for oh, so long now…

“That’s why Minho sent you here,” you whispered. He didn’t bother to listen now, hearing you’ve got it all figured out, he stared at you, sized you up, a plan in his head he set in stone long ago written on his smug face. “You told him that-” “That I love you,” he whispered, a peek of him coming through, “Yeah, I did.”

“You lo…” The words cut off with a breath, your own breathing on manual now, and not because of the beast that was about to make you his dinner. Going limp in his hold, body weight falling onto his chest, you shook your head in tiny. “Chris… We said we’d go slow.”

He tilted his head to the side, a minute movement. You weren’t sure who spoke, or who you were speaking to, or if he could hear you clearly, if he could think clearly. “Can’t.”

His body wrapped around you, the heat, the persuasion of his eyes, everything else melted away.

“You don’t speak to me for like a month, and now you-”

Strong hands wrapped around your jaw, tipping you back. A flash of gold washed over you just before he brushed his nose over yours, his gaze falling to your lips. Warm air trickled from between his lips, down your neck, the blaze burning over your skin, down your chest, over your arms, your middle, between your legs, a brazen forest fire, uncontainable, one that twisted every thought with a devilish whisper of you want this…

Barely pursing his lips, he kissed you gently. A miniscule roll of his lips onto yours, entirely chaste, and you kissed him back just the same, a barely there push of lips against his. Inhaling deeply, a flutter in your heart, you took in the scent of something sweet, a soft flower, nothing too sharp like lavender, or poignant like rose, just, soft. 

Comfort. 

Allowing it to put your mind at ease, reminding yourself that this was Chris, the boy who spilled his feelings to you in a jumbled mess of words that half made sense, the boy who has always smelled this soft, the boy who has shown you his other side countless times and has never once ever hurt you… You stretched your arms over his chest, looping them around his neck, parting your lips to deepen what he’d been afraid of, sliding your tongue over his bottom lip– He ripped himself away from you.

All of your weight rested on him, when he jumped across the living room you had to catch yourself on the couch he’d been pressing you to. Sucking down air, startled by how he moved, breathless from how long he’d been kissing you, you whirled around and threw your hands out at your side. 

“No,” he snarled, resting his back against the wall across from where you stood. Digging his fingers through his hair, he couldn’t look at you. His body tried to charge for you, though. “No, it’s not happening.”

Resting your hands on the cushions, you pressed your fingers into them. Gulping, you drug your eyes up and down his form, over every bulging muscle, every heave of his chest as his mind and body went to war, the ragged breaths tearing through his full, plump pink lips delectable as ever, the obvious bulge in his jeans he couldn’t deny if he tried.

Every sigh made your skin crawl.

Every twitch of his hips pooled saliva over your tongue.

Every flash of gold he beguiled your eyes with soaked your panties.

He moved far from you, but you could still smell him.

Soft, fresh clean laundry, a clear spring day, the first gust of air stepping into an ice cream shoppe.

Your muscles tensed.

Squeezing your legs together, bending at the knees, you furrowed your brows and clawed at the couch cushions, the sound triggering him to snap his neck in your direction, eyes focused, ears pointed at the sound. From your fingers to your lustrous gaze he studied. He stood up straight, head cocking to the side ever so slightly. Curious.

Body on absolute fire, the need wedged within your thighs unbearable, humiliating, you clenched your jaw and watched as he attempted to retract his claws, his teeth.

But, his eyes, burning as bright as the need coursing through your veins, like your feelings fueled their glow, gave birth to their very existence, they knew you were empty.

You’ve never felt it more than in this very moment, unable to recall the last time you ever did feel it. 

Chris whispered with a scrunch of his nose, “I can smell you from here.”

“I can smell you, too,” you whispered back, and he raised a brow.

“No, you can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

He took a steady breath. “Wet dog?”

Biting on your bottom lip, you blinked and gave him a smile. “Delicious.”

“Shit,” he sneered, spinning around, pressing his hands to his face. Prowling around the couch, tiptoeing behind him though he could hear every move you made, you smoothed your hands over the expanse of his back and trembled at the knees, something resembled a quiet whine slipping through your lips. “Don’t look at me anymore,” he said, then whispered, “Why did he tell me to come here?”

“Because I need you to fill me,” you breathed, and he shot straight up, hands pressing to the wall. 

Scent thicker behind him like this, every thought of what if dissipated, the only one left behind is that of a thought you kept for yourself late at night, what it would feel like to have your legs wrapped around his waist as he slipped inside of you. 

The sweetness grew tenfold. 

“Chris,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his middle, clinging to his back, a mere koala hanging off of him.  

More than a want, more than a need, your body craved him.

Taking a hand from the wall, he placed it over yours on his chest. Heavy, hot, strong.  “It’s different,” he grumbled, shaking his head, letting it hang. “It won’t be me.”

“Yes, it will be,” you begged, pushing yourself against him. 

Holding onto your hands, he turned and pressed his backside to the wall, tugging you into him. Nose to nose, he thinned his lips and shook his head. “You’re already close to halfway gone. Do you hear yourself? This isn’t you, it’s the-” 

Gold pulsed in his irises as you clenched around nothing, his voice tickling your skin.

Snapping his mouth shut, he groaned to himself, attempting a deep breath. Leaning into you, his lips close to yours that you tried to catch and he wouldn’t let you, he whispered, “If I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

“That’s fine, that’s-”

He spat, “At all. Until I’m done, until my body is satisfied, until it knows you’re…”

The breath that pushed through your lips made him break his gaze, glaring elsewhere in the room. 

“Bred,” you whispered. His breathing grew heavier, every exhale waltzing with a soft grunt that made you want to shove your hand in your pants. “This never happened before, why now?”

Chris’s throat tightened, his hands tensing around you. Shrugging, he mustered up the courage to look at you with a heavy sigh, “Because, it clicked. We’re it.”

Lips tipping up, you slid your hands down his front. “No shit, I can feel it.”

Catching your wrists before they slid too far, he groaned and pulled them up to his chest. “I can tell.”

“And now you have to give me a baby,” you whispered.

Throwing his head back, he just about roared, his groan echoing against your walls, gold eyes shining brighter than they have all night. Gripping your wrists with a vengeance, he peered down at you, gold like a siren song luring you into bed. “You tell me to leave, we can get through this. Let me go, and we’ll-”

“No.”

He flashed you all of his teeth, his canines, and glared at you. “No?” 

Narrowing your eyes, lowering your brows, trying to hold onto him as tightly as he held onto you, you said it again with a snap of your jaw. “No!”

Grunting, he pushed off of the wall and towered over you, walking you backward through your living room. “Did you hear me? What I said?” Excitement flooded your senses, sugary sweets lingered in the air, his heat fogged your windows. He paused in the doorway of your bedroom. “If I start… I won’t be able to stop.”

You wanted him everywhere, his size, his teeth, his strength. Sideways, in your bed, over the back of your sofa, on the kitchen counter, naked, sweaty and making a mess of each other, unable to get enough, utterly famished, and you needed him to pump you full, milking himself dry, as many times as it’d take, you were his to ruin, to claim. 

Your body gave you away, it was as if he could read every thought.

“You don’t know what you’re asking me to do,” he whispered, voice quiet. He knew he’d lost. 

You needed him inside of you yesterday. Pressing your thighs together, smiling as his nose twitched, you rose to your tiptoes and brushed your lips over his cheek. “But, you do.”

Wrenching his eyes shut, he grasped the doorframe. Breathless, he admitted, “I don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“You won’t,” you whispered, kissing his cheek, dancing a hand over his chest and thundering heart. “You could never hurt me. I know you won’t. I want you.” He opened his golden eyes to your innocent smile. “Please?”

Arms engulfing you, he picked you up effortlessly, tossing you back onto your bed made with a plush grey comforter and about a hundred pillows. Through a laugh, you bounced on the mattress and sat up on your elbows, reaching one hand out for him to grab, but he opted for your ankles. In the dark, his eyes burned bright, his expression turning from one you knew to one that pierced through you, into you, deep.

Pulling you toward him by the ankles, you giggled and hummed as your hips met, circling yours against him, grinding into him. He laid over you, his feet firm on the floor, taking your forearms in his, laying you backward on the bed, pinning you down. Jaw clenched tight, he stared at you, his breath shallow and quiet. Nose just grazing your skin, he moved with caution, sizing you up, gaze eating you alive and examining you like he wasn’t sure you were good enough.

Breath tickled your neck, his nose and his chin nudging you gently, a predator stalking his prey. 

In the quiet of your bedroom his soft grunts of contentment rendered your brain dizzy, every release like he pushed a finger inside of you, bringing you closer to the edge without even touching you. His tongue drug up the side of your neck, the faintest touch, tasting you, his groan melting into one of your own, a heavy breath caught between your bodies. Aside from his hands, his hips pressing into yours, he didn’t touch you, but his teeth did, soon after his tongue teased beneath your ear.

Arching into his chest, sucking in a breath, the tips of his canines drug over your neck, Chris pressing them into your skin below your chin, his entire jaw almost locking around your throat. If he finished shifting, he’d fit your neck between his teeth easily, too easily. Even now he’d be able to rip into it, his fangs seemed to grow sharper the longer he toyed with you.

Your shaky breath startled him, the push of air making him cower backward, his head dropping and his shoulders rising, his hands pressing yours further into the mattress. His shoulders had widened some, his form larger, every muscle bulkier, thicker, veinier. You could feel the claws on his fingers digging into your arms, just as sharp as his teeth that now poked out over his pink lip.

The final form before the last.

Exhaling through his nose, the breath heavy and hot, his glowing eyes stared into yours. 

He didn’t blink. 

He didn’t move.

An apex predator.

One as smart as he was strong, as beautiful as he was rough.

He could kill you, right now, and he’d make it quick, a simple task for a monster of his size, his intelligence, but as his golden eyes finally blinked, and cotton candy wafted through the air, the sturdy jaw that’s clamped down and ripped through a plethora of nothings you care to remember, it softened. His lips parted, and both sets of teeth poked through, a gentle growl sneaking out of the depths of him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shook with every sigh, your hips desperately ground against his. Lifting your head, coming nose to nose, you whispered, “Chris?”

Grizzly breath poured over you, your man now more creature than ever. Voice rough, scratchy, so deep that it vibrated inside of you, he forced the words out of himself. “M’still here.”

“Good,” you whispered, brushing your nose side to side over his. “I’m-”

He pushed down on your arms, knocking you back on bed. Throwing his head down to your chest, his back curved and he groaned, loud, you’re certain you heard a crack. 

Gasping, you squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away. 

This was it.

Panting, a whine escaping with every breath, you attempted to melt into the mattress, unable to even contemplate how you were going to get out of here. “No,” you whispered, listening to him groan, listening to him try to fight it. You’ve been through this before, you’ve both tried everything, there was no fighting it. “Don’t, Christopher, please,” you babbled, shaking your head, “Don’t. It’s me… it’s me. You won’t hurt me, you won’t, you love me. I love you, you can’t…”

He’d stopped moving. When, you weren’t sure. 

Shutting yourself up, you held your breath and opened your eyes, looking down at him. Back still curved, eyes still golden, teeth pointed, he stared at you through his lashes, laying over your belly, watching you. You didn’t dare to say more, nor did you think to move. His glare had softened, his breathing evened out, the shift was incomplete physically, still somewhat man, but the way his eyes darted back and forth between yours, to your lips, back to your eyes…

He’d gone feral mentally.

And he moved with the pace and strength of an animal.

Letting go of your arms, he grabbed the waist of your sweats and pulled, ripping them to shreds and throwing them to the floor. Holding your breath as he climbed onto the bed and crawled over you, two sizes too big, you laid flat on the mattress, eyes wide as he grabbed the collar of your hoodie and pulled, lifting you with it, ripping the cotton off your body like he was shredding mere paper. 

Letting you flop back on your comforter, he crawled a little higher, his thighs straddling your shoulders. Reaching between his legs, he hooked his hands under your arms and pulled you up to your pillows, his thighs now caging yours to the bed. Like a ragdoll he moved you, you were certain he could move mountains in this state. 

Quiet sounds left him, ones mixing with the power of your breaths with each of his movements, his purrs curious, and satisfied thus far with himself. Wrapping a hand around your throat, he didn’t press, but he tipped your chin upward, meeting your eyes with a small smile, sitting on top of you tall, too big, intimidating. 

You wanted him to crush you.

If everything else got bigger…

“You wanted to get fucked,” he grumbled, tilting your head side to side. “Naked under all that?”

A quiet whine slipped from your throat, making him wince. “I-I was home for the night, I didn’t…”

He pushed your chin back further with the back of his hand, his fingertips pressing to the sides, dizzying your head further. “I don’t wanna hear it. You were aroused when I showed up,” he growled, dropping down on top of you, his lips ghosting yours, “Were you gonna touch yourself tonight?”

Trying to breath, your airflow restricted, gazing up into his golden glow, you whined, and nodded.

He smirked. “You do almost every night, don’t you?” Dipping his tongue out, he licked the seam of your lips, huffing as you nodded again, trembling under his grasp. “I know you do,” he whispered, and your eyes went wide, your brows flipping over. “So cute,” he grumbled, fingers squeezing your neck. “You forget I can smell you, when you’re horny, when you’re ovulating, when you’re bleeding, when you’re desperate for someone to take care of you, don’t think I don’t know what you think about when you’re making yourself cum on your fingers.”

Writhing beneath him, you whispered, “You.”

Chris grinned, dimples blessing his cheeks, canines pressing into his lips. “Acting all innocent when you meet me in the morning like you weren’t imagining me on top of you while you were three knuckles deep the night before.” He nodded behind you. “Moaning my name into these pillows? Huh?” He smirked and drug his tongue over your jaw. “Can’t let the neighbors hear you, yeah?” 

“Chris, I-”

He didn’t let you finish. Straightening his brow, he released your neck and reached between his legs for your hips, pulling you out from under him. Sitting on his knees, he scooped his hands under yours and pushed you backward before he gripped your thighs and lifted you onto him. Gripping the sheets, nearly shouting his name, you looked up at him from the pillows and whimpered. He had you bent in half with your feet locked behind his neck over his wide shoulders and his head between your legs, holding you up with his body. 

Fingers pressing into the curve of your thigh, the dip of your hips, the round of your ass, he fluttered his eyes shut and took a long breath, an inhale of pleasure and a warm exhale of power over your slick, your body shaking in his hold. 

Tightening around nothing, a plea, a beg for him to give you something, you pushed your head backward, grabbed fistfuls of sheets, screwed your eyes shut and shouted, barely recognizing yourself, “Chris, please, give it to me!”

You’re met with gold for but a second before his tongue dips into you and your eyes roll back, your toes curling. 

Finally.

Whining as his warm muscle drug through your arousal, you gasped as he clamped you down to his chest and abused your clit. Tongue swirling, flicking, teasing, lips smacking, pulling, sucking, teeth nudging, never hurting– he moaned into you, golden eyes admiring you falling apart at his mercy, his cock growing harder with every cry of his name. Plunging his tongue into your entrance, he took one thumb to your clit and pressed, and twisted, and pressed again, tongue fucking you, every smack, every squelch, disgusting… It brought you closer. You’ve never been sprung so close to orgasm so fast, ever.

Sappy sweet wrapped around you, warped your mind, furthered the ecstasy pulsing through you, the heat searing through and out of your body. Chris, nothing but Chris, you couldn’t think of anything else, the world washed away with the rain pelting your windows, you couldn’t hear any of it, the wind, the howls outside, all that was left– Chris, his whimpers of pleasure, his thrusts against your back, his cock, heavy and full of cum that you needed inside of you…

His to use, his to fill, his to breed.

You were his. The gold in his eyes spoke to you, telling you exactly that. You were his. You’d never need anyone else ever again, he was yours. 

Thrashing against him, impetuous wails filling the air, wracking the walls, this wasn’t supposed to feel this good. You could stay here forever, bent upward, pinned to his chest while his tongue made love to your pussy and his cock speared you in the back.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped, reaching to grab onto his thighs, your nails digging into his muscle. “Chris, god, please, don’t stop, M’gonna cum!” 

Circling your hips, grinding on his tongue, he growled and your body went still. Blinking up at him, he wrapped both arms around your thighs and pulled you tighter to him, baring his teeth, eyes pointed. Tongue pressing to your clit, he leaned over you, pushing you into the mattress as he furthered his assault, working faster, quicker, moaning louder, listening to you, and then, one of his hands dropped to your throat.

Fingers squeezing the sides, you went silent, lips parting, a breath caught in your lungs. Going dizzy, every thought fuzzy, the only whispered mantra falling from your lips Chris, chris, chris… Hips pressing up against him, vision searing white, you arched off of his chest and cried. Thighs closing him in, you shook violently, and he kept going.

Reaching up for him, fingers tangling in his hair, you tried to push him off, but the glare he shot down to you sent you retreating. Trembling, your entire body vibrating, the sounds that came out of you were pathetic, embarrassing, you couldn’t take it, it was too much, he needed to stop, your walls were tightening, your second orgasm stared you in the face, and he needed to get inside of you.

You said it all out loud, a mess of words strung together in some form of incoherent babbles that made him snicker. 

“You don’t even know what you want,” he grumbled, holding onto your thighs as he moved backward and dropped you down to the mattress. He reached behind him for the collar of his shirt and pulled it off of himself, his hair a mess on top of his head. Crawling backward on top of the pillows, you pulled your knees into your chest and watched him, your bottom lip lodging between your teeth.

Shaking, aftershocks like waves washing through you, you tried to take deep breaths.

For what, you weren’t sure.

Chris unfasted his pants and pushed them down his hips, tight boxers escaping as well, his thick, long, eager cock springing up, tempting you. Lips parting, you ogled his leaking tip and licked at the corners of your mouth. Heart thundering, your breathing shallow, you gulped and looked up at him, smug as ever.

Tongue dragging over his bottom teeth, pressing to his cheek, he lowered his chin. “Come here.” His golden eyes had gone dark, burning deeper, persuading you utterly submissive. With a meek shake of your head, the size of him intimidating, he narrowed his eyes and growled. “Gonna make me say it fucking twice,” he raised his voice, lunging for one of your ankles, dragging you in front of him quick with a yelp, “I said, come here.”

Palms pressing to your thighs, he spread you open and laid over you, his lips locking with yours, the taste of you still on his tongue. Moaning into his mouth as he pressed his tip to your entrance, the sheer difference in size making you both shudder, you threw your arms around his neck and closed your eyes.

“Tiny thing,” he muttered in shared air, dropping his head to peer between your bodies. Nudging your hole, he bared his teeth with a snarl feeling you close up. Taking his lips to your ear, he kissed your lobe and whispered, “Relax.” Holding onto him tighter, you could only whimper. Brushing his lips across your cheek to kiss you slowly, he hummed against your lips and whispered, “Let me in.” 

“Chris.”

“Shhh,” he soothed, touching his nose to yours, “Look at me,” and when you listened, he smiled, and the gold calmed you. 

A blanket of comfort. 

Warmth. 

Chris. 

A gentle waft of the earth after it rained passed through the air. Your legs spread backward as you gazed up at him, lifting your chin to give him a kiss, taking an involuntary long deep breath as your eyes fluttered shut and a pressure grew between your legs. His head dropped to your shoulder with an erotic whimper, and as the smell of rain dissipated and the facade of the gold broke apart, you clamped yourself around him and cried out.

He had sunken into you entirely, the stretch so unbearable it felt good. Big, bigger than anything you’ve ever had, bigger than what you were even expecting, god, you couldn’t breath, you couldn’t think, you couldn’t do anything but try to breathe, but even then, he thrust into you and knocked it right out of your lungs. 

He was splitting you right in two. 

And with how he writhed and grunted against your neck, he wasn’t giving you any time to attempt to adjust.

Pistoling into you, drinking up every string of moans that flew from your lips, he wore a pinched brow, his teeth clenched, his pink lips curling. Pressing his forehead to your cheek, to your neck, to your chest, he nuzzled his head against you, his hair, his chin, and when he wasn’t spreading his scent, he was dragging his tongue over your neck, over your lips. 

His own pathetic grunts washed over you, the look in his eye not a lick conscious, not a care in the world for how he gripped onto you so tight that his fingerprints were branded into your skin, or for where his teeth went and how hard they dug into your shoulder, or for the press of his nails, in your hips, your belly, your thighs, your ankles…

The bed creaked, moving faster with each thrust, he folded you backward, clawing at the mattress beside your head. Golden eyes glowing brighter, his hips snapped and snapped, the sound of your skin smacking almost as loud as your wails, your cries for more, your cries for him.

He invaded every sense, took over every little signal in your brain, became the one and only thing you needed, the one and only thing you wanted–

“Cum inside me,” you choked out, dragging your nails over the expanse of his back, not doing nearly as much damage as he’d done to you. He growled into your neck, thrusting even faster, so you cried out, voice broken, disgustingly desperate, “I need it, Chris, I’m so empty, wanna be full of you, fuck it into me, breed me, baby, please!”

He roared, pushing into you to the hilt, folding you in half, his legs stretching behind him. Pulsing into you, he moaned so loud the walls shook, and you felt it.

You felt it.

You never can feel it.

You’re not supposed to.

That’s not something that happens, you don’t feel it.

He pumped you full, and you felt it, and he kept cumming, twitching inside of you, soft, weak whimpers hiding in the back of his throat. A sticky warmth he spurted up into you, your belly growing hot, a buzzing within you, calming you. Your body shook, and you tightened around him.

Laid on top of you, a sweaty, panting mess, Chris stirred, propping himself up on his elbows, his head laid in your neck. Groaning with a lazy thrust of his hips, he lifted his head, and you sighed.

He was still hard.

His eyes were still gold. 

His teeth were still pointed.

He released a breath and whined. “M’sorry.”

Before you could get out a word, he moved in a flash, pushing himself off you, grabbing onto your waist, flipping you over face down without slipping out of you. Holding onto your hips, he pushed one hand to your back and arched you into the mattress, letting his hand slide down further to grab onto your hair, yanking your head back. 

Without warning, he picked up where he left off, quick, short snaps of his hips, harder and harder. “Thought you’d get away with one,” he grumbled, splaying his palm across your asscheek with a slap before he dug his nails into your skin. Laughing as you yelped, keeping you in place with a tug on your hair, he shook his head. “Need at least three to get a bitch fucking pregnant.”

Squeezing him tight, eyes rolling backward, his words spurred you on, your second orgasm impending, seconds from snapping. 

“Look at what you’ve fucking done to me,” he groaned. The bed frame wracked against the wall. “You’re nothing but a hole to fuck, a womb to fill, walking around like you have no fucking idea what I have to go through every fucking month, did you know that?”

Through babbled moans, you managed, “No.”

He bent himself in half, his lips brushing your ear, his cock curving up into you. “Better fucking learn. A pretty fucking face with a tight fucking pussy, fuck. How pretty you’ll be full me? This one’ll stick, yeah? You want that?”

Tongue pressing to your bottom lip, entirely fucked out and dumb, you moaned out, “I want it.”

His teeth grazed your neck, his voice spiraled you straight over the edge. “Then take my fucking cum.” Arching back into him, your head pressing to his neck, body writhing, splaying out on the mattress, you cried out his name and he smiled. “Good fucking girl,” he growled with feral thrusts of his hips, pressing hot kisses to your shoulders, “Baby likes getting fucked dumb, huh?”

“Yes,” you whispered, breathless, limbs unable to hold yourself up anymore.

Chris took his arms under you and lifted you up, laying you over his chest, the way he fucked into you– immpossible.  Sliding one hand down your middle, he toyed with your clit and snickered as you thrashed. “More,” he moaned, sliding his tongue over your neck, “You’re so fucking wet, I want more, make a mess.” 

The sheets under you were ruined. Leaking around him, his cock, his hips, covered. Your thighs, adorned by the mix he fucked you full of… Any more and you’d have to rid of the mattress.

The twist of his fingers and the snap of his hips pushed you over again, for the third time, a silent scream forcing its way out of you, all control you had on your body entirely lost. Limp in his arms, he praised you and laid you down headfirst, his bodyweight on top of you. Clinging to you, desperate grunts in your ear, he thrust into you twice and pushed. Like he wanted to split you in half, spurting into you, warmth filling you, everything going fuzzy.

He kept cumming.

He couldn’t stop. 

Pressing chaste kisses to your cheek, to your shoulder, to your back, he shook, and he kept cumming. Whimpers of your name fell from his lips, a sweet song keeping you somewhat grounded, but then you were moved, and you were under him again, and he had you flipped wrong ways down on the bed, and he tried to kiss you, and his teeth were digging into your shoulder, and he pinned your wrists above your head, and he brought you to orgasm again, one that hit you like you’d been plunged under water, drowning in ecstasy, and he wouldn’t stop, and he couldn’t stop, and you made him cum again, your belly so bloated, so full, so good for him…

“...back to me, baby,” you heard him whisper.

Blinking, still in the darkness of your bedroom, you swallowed, or tried to, your throat like sandpaper. Sitting up, every muscle in your body groaned, and a pair of warm hands wrapped around you, pulling you back into their lap.

“Lay down,” he whispered, lips pressing to your temple. 

Turning your chin, blinking away the blur in your eyes, you looked up at him and his soft smile and felt your throat tighten. “Chris,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he breathed, smoothing his hands down your arms, over your thighs. He had dressed you, you were in new sweats and a big tee. He’d thrown on a grey pair he kept over here in a random drawer. “You feel okay?” His brown eyes were laced with worry, his brows pulled into the center of his forehead.

No teeth.

No impossibly wide shoulders.

No golden glow.

Just Chris.

Sliding a hand over your belly, you lowered your brows and mumbled, “I feel…”

He sighed, dropping his head, his forehead on yours. “I know.”

His pointless shame made you smile. “How many times did you…”

“Five,” he whispered, closing his eyes.

A laugh caught on your lips. Gazing up at him, you scoffed, and he twisted his brow, confused.

“What?”

“Five times,” you laughed, “I thought I was fertile, it took five times!?”

Chris rocked backward, gasping, half a laugh escaping him. “That’s what you’re worried about right now?”

Laying a hand to his bare chest and his beating heart, his body heat enough to make you sweat, you took a deep breath. “Guess not,” you giggled. Silence wrapped around the two of you for a moment, your gazes saying everything that didn’t need to be spoken aloud. Breaking the quiet, you smiled. “You love me.”

He rolled his eyes and tipped his chin back, dragging his tongue over his teeth before it pushed into his cheek. “Yeah, well, you love me, so what are we gonna do about it?”

Blushing, you took your hand to his cheek and gave his dimple a pinch. “What are we gonna do about what we just did?” He took a breath and nodded, grabbing a hold of your hand, giving your wrist a gentle kiss where marks from his nails were evident. “We can’t have a baby right now, Chris.”

“Yeah,” he sighed. “You have more of that tea your aunt gave you?”

“In the kitchen cabinet next to the stove,” you whispered. “That’ll fix it?” With a simple nod he moved out from under you. Rolling onto your side, your body unhappy, you watched him start for the door. “How do you know that?”

He licked his lips and shrugged, the quietest, “Minho,” coming out of him.

You wheezed, falling into hysterics, and he cowered with a grin. “You bastards!”

He hurried out of your bedroom with a shout. “I love you!”

creu masterlist | masterlist

Everything was going wrong for Chan today. He’d planned on taking his little wolf companion to the park early this morning, but of course, he’d overslept, which led to a not-so-fun wake-up call from his little guy. Being brought to consciousness by a small, bipedal, talking wolf is not the magical experience it might sound like, especially when said wolf is jumping on your bed, scolding you while he holds back tears—dramatic little thing, that one.

Really, though, Chan was the only person the little wolf let himself get that way around. He was a happy little guy, by all means, but he didn’t like showing his emotions too much. It had taken Chan months to get him to open up and stop bottling things up, especially since he feels such big emotions for such a tiny being. Chan loves being the one his little wolf feels so comfortable with, but he does not enjoy it when the result is an unfortunate wake-up call.

Still, Chan got out of bed and got dressed to take his SKZOO to the park, but his bad morning couldn’t end there. He’d decided to stop at his usual coffee shop for a little pick-me-up before he chases his furry companion around the park for a few hours. However, his favorite barista wasn’t working today, so, of course, his order was made wrong. She always made it perfectly, and the one day she’s off, the one day he needs a decent coffee, his order couldn’t be further from correct.

He grimaces after taking the first sip, eyes clenched and nose scrunched in disbelief at the taste. He flinches back to look at it in disdain, holding it out in front of him with the hand that isn’t clasping his little wolf’s hand. Finally, he sighs with a shake of his head, deciding to drink it despite the less-than-pleasant taste as he exits the small coffee shop, not wanting to waste the money he’d spent on it.

Chan assumes that’s it. He doesn’t have anything else going on for the rest of the day, so surely it can’t go any further downhill. Except, he seems to have jinxed himself. Right as he and his companion approach the park entrance, he steps on a stick, which then rolls on the concrete sidewalk, causing his ankle to move in a way it definitely shouldn’t.

He’s not able to catch himself on his way down, despite his best efforts, so he ends up on his butt on a sidewalk right in front of the park, unable to move his foot due to pain. Meanwhile, his still gross coffee had slipped from his hand as he tried to catch himself, resulting in it covering the small, furry wolf beside him, who was currently staring at his owner in shock. 

“I’m so sorry, Wolfie! Let me get- Ah!” Chan cuts himself off with a hiss of pain. He’d tried to stand up to comfort and clean the wolf, but the sharp, stabbing pain that shoots up his leg when he moves brings him to a halt. Before he can say anything else, the wolf jumps into action.

“Don’t worry, Channie! I’ll get help!” He’s scampered off to who knows where before Chan can even attempt to stop him. Great. Now, he’s probably lost his SKZOO because he can’t get up to chase him. He lets out a frustrated sigh, combing a hand through his hair as he runs through about seventy different ways he can fix this, but none of them seem like a good option. It’d be amazing if he could ask someone for help, but of course, there’s not a soul in sight. Seriously? A warm, sunny Saturday at the park, and no one is around? What does the universe have against him today?

Eventually, though, he hears the pitter-patter of paws that could only belong to his Wolfie. His head shoots up, and he almost passes out when he sees who the little critter is dragging behind him. His favorite barista. The barista he’d been harboring a crush on for at least two months now. The barista who is the entire reason he even goes to that coffee shop at all. Yeah…the universe hates him. 

“Channie! I got help, and I think she’s a princess! Look at her pretty dress!” The small animal whispers the last part when he gets close enough to his owner, but his whispers are about as quiet as fighter jet engines. So, the girl had clearly heard, judging by the blush on her face. Chan is sporting a similar flush, embarrassed by his furry companion. 

“I’m sorry about him…” He mumbles, not quite meeting her eye.

“No, don’t even worry about it. He’s sweet…” She smiles, and Chan thinks his heart is gonna beat out of his chest. That’s exactly what he needs, a heart attack on top of his probably broken ankle. “How can I help?”

“Ah, I’m not too sure… I tripped, and now I can’t really put pressure on my ankle.” He winces, even more humiliated by the fact that he’s being forced to explain his needless injury to the woman he’s been crushing on.

The woman grimaces slightly. “That sounds kinda bad… Can I maybe help you stand up? My car isn’t too far from here. I can totally drive you to the hospital.” 

“You really don’t have to-” This time, he’s cut off by his wolf.

“Uh, Channie,” he starts sassily, crossing his arms and cocking his head to one side, hip jutted out, “you always tell me not to hide what I’m feeling. If you’re hurt, you need to see a doctor.” Jeez, why does Chan love this little guy so much again? He’s struggling to remember right now. 

The woman snorts out a laugh at the wolf’s insistence and decides that she’s not gonna let up, either. “C’mon, let’s get you to a hospital.” She doesn’t give Chan a choice, grabbing one of his arms and wrapping it around her shoulders as she helps him stand. Chan winces with a hiss at the movement, but keeps his complaints to himself. Logically, he knows they’re right; he should see a doctor about his ankle. 

As they walk toward her car, she realizes that no introductions have been made. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Chan fights the urge to say that he knows. He’s seen it on her nametag at the coffee shop countless times by now, but he doesn’t want to come across as a creep. “Chan,” he replies simply. 

She smiles at him, repeating the name to see how it feels leaving her lips. “What about the little guy?” She turns her smile to the little wolf walking closely to Chan’s leg.

“Ah…” he trails off, the tips of his ears turning red once more. “WolfChan, actually.”

She lets out a small giggle, and all Chan can think is how much he’d give to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life. “Chan and WolfChan, huh? Easy to remember, then.”

Chan laughs in return, as best he can with the pain still shooting up his leg. “Yeah…it came from my sister. When I first adopted him, she kept saying he acted like a mini-me, so she started calling him WolfChan as a joke. But it kind of just…stuck. I usually call him Wolfie, though. I think he likes it a bit better.”

“Wolfie is cute. It fits him.” Her smile widens when the little wolf turns bashful, but it doesn’t last long.

His chin juts out confidently, and he starts walking with a bit more pep in his step. “Yeah, well, I’m gonna call you princess, ‘cause you look like a princess,” he decides with a huff, his furry little tail swinging proudly behind him.

The woman laughs. Sure, the sundress she was wearing was cute, but she didn’t think it was exactly princess-worthy. Still, she wasn’t about to argue with the adorable little wolf. “I think I can live with that title.” 

Soon enough, they make it to her car, and she helps Chan into the passenger seat as Wolfie crawls into the back. She rounds the car quickly once they’re both settled before climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the car. “Alright, next stop, hospital.”

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You hadn't planned to lose yourself in the woods. The day had started so simply...a clear sky, the sun shining just warm enough to draw you outside. You told yourself you needed the break, just somewhere quiet for a few hours where you could turn off your brain. Something about the woods had always called to you, and though you didn't know them well, the little trailhead near the edge of town seemed inviting enough.

But that was hours ago. Now, you couldn't tell where you were. The trees all looked the same, their towering silhouettes blotting out the last traces of daylight. The path you thought you'd been following had vanished, replaced by endless stretches of moss and shadow.

You tried to stay calm, telling yourself that if you just kept moving, you'd find your way back. But as the minutes dragged on, calmness gave way to unease. The air felt heavier here, clinging to your skin. And then, just as the first chill of night crept over your arms, something in you shifted.

It started as warmth, nothing unusual...at first, you chalked it up to exertion. But then the warmth grew, spreading through your limbs and pooling low in your belly. Your breaths came faster, your pulse racing in a way you couldn't explain. A faint dizziness followed, making you stumble and grip a tree for balance.

"What... what's happening to me?" you whispered aloud.

No one answered. The forest was eerily quiet now, as though even the animals were holding their breath.

Your legs felt weak, your body trembling as the heat surged again. This time, it wasn't just warmth, it was fire. A desperate, aching fire that made your head spin. You sank to the ground, unable to keep standing, clutching at the damp earth as though it could somehow anchor you.

A strange scent filled your nose...earthy and rich, yet sharp enough to make your head swim. You had no idea where it was coming from, but it mingled with the unbearable heat coursing through you, tightening its grip on your senses. It felt impossible to think, to focus on anything but the desperate ache building in your body.

Your hands clutched at the moss beneath you, and you let out a shaky breath, your voice breaking into a low whimper. You didn't understand what was happening...why you felt like this, why the fire in your veins only seemed to intensify with each passing second.

Through the haze, you thought you heard footsteps. At first, you dismissed it as the pounding of your heart in your ears, but then it came again, steadily moving closer.

"Who's there?" you managed to choke out, your voice trembling.

Silence. Then, a figure stepped out from between the trees, his presence commanding yet calm. He wasn't very tall, but he was broad-shouldered, and his dark eyes scanned you quickly, taking in your trembling form on the ground.

"You're going to be okay," he said softly, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. His voice was deep, soothing, but it did little to calm the storm raging inside you.

More figures emerged behind him, stepping out from the shadows one by one. Each of them moved as if a sudden crack of a twig would send you running away; their eyes glowing faintly in the dim light, never leaving you. It felt threatening.

You scrambled back, panic flaring despite your weakened state. "Stay back!" you cried, your voice breaking.

The man in front stopped, crouching slightly to meet your eye level. His expression was calm, almost gentle, but there was something else in his gaze, something primal that made your breath hitch.

"You're in heat," he told you softly.

The words barely registered, tangled in the fog of your mind. "What... what does that even mean?"

The others exchanged glances, and a blonde man with soft features stepped forward, his voice gentle, "You don't know?"

You shook your head, confusion and fear twisting in your chest. "I-I don't know what's happening. I... I was fine, and then..."

The heat surged again, stealing your words and leaving you gasping. Your body trembled violently, and you doubled over, clutching your middle as if you could somehow hold yourself together.

"She's unbonded," one of them murmured, his tone laced with surprise.

"Unbonded and alone?" another muttered. "How is that even possible?"

"Hey, focus," the first man said sharply, cutting off their whispers. His eyes remained locked on you, his expression gentle as he crouched a little closer. "Listen to me. I know you're scared, but we're here to help. You're going through your first heat, and it's... overwhelming you. We can get you somewhere safe."

You shook your head again, your breathing shallow. "I don't understand," you whispered. "What are you talking about?"

The blonde man, the one with the elven features and kind eyes, knelt beside the first. "Your body is reacting to instincts you didn't even know you had," he informed you.

Something deep inside you stirred at the sound of his voice, as though it were unlocking a part of you that had always been there, hidden beneath the surface.

The first man extended a hand toward you, his movements slow. "My name is Chan," he said. "I'm the leader of this pack. We're not going to hurt you, I promise. But you can't stay out here like this...it's too dangerous."

You stared at his hand, your instincts warring with your fear. There was something about him, about all of them, that felt... different. Their presence was almost magnetic, pulling at something inside you that you couldn't name.

The heat surged again, stronger this time, and you cried out, your body curling in on itself. Chan's expression hardened in pity, and before you could protest, he leaned forward and scooped you into his arms.

"Wait..." you gasped, but the words died on your lips as your body melted into his warmth. The scent you'd noticed earlier, earthy and rich, was stronger now, enveloping you and calming the frantic pounding of your heart.

"Easy," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. "We've got you."

The others followed as he carried you deeper into the woods. You could feel their eyes on you, but none of them spoke, their focus entirely on getting you to safety. You should've felt scared about so many strange men taking you somewhere unknown in the woods, but Chan's body was the only thing holding you together right now, it felt necessary.

You weren't sure how much time passed before they brought you to a small, hidden clearing where a cabin stood nestled among the trees. The warmth of the fire spilling through the windows was a stark contrast to the cool night air, and you barely registered the sound of the door opening before Chan carried you inside.

The cabin was cozy, the scent of wood smoke and something faintly sweet filling the air. He placed you gently on a couch near the fire, and the others gathered around, their expressions a mix of concern and curiosity.

"She's burning up," one of them said, his voice sharp with worry.

"She obviously doesn't know what a heat is," another murmured, shaking his head.

"Enough," Chan snapped, his tone firm. He knelt beside you again, his dark eyes meeting yours. "You're safe now. That's all that matters."

Your mind swam with questions, but the heat was relentless, clouding your thoughts and leaving you trembling. You looked at him, your voice barely above a whisper. "What's happening to me?"

He hesitated, glancing at the others before turning back to you. "Your body is reacting the way it's supposed to," he said carefully. "You're an omega, and this is your first heat. It's... a natural part of who you are, but it's a lot to handle, especially without a pack."

His words didn't make sense, but you clung to the soothing tone of his voice, letting it ground you as your body continued to burn.

"We'll help you through this," the blonde man said. "You're not alone anymore."

The heat clawed at you still, refusing to allow even an ounce of relief. It overwhelmed every sense. Your mind barely registered the sounds of the pack moving around you, their low voices blending into the crackle of the fire. You could hear them murmuring, but their words were lost in the haze. All you knew was the fire in your body, the aching need for help from a sensation you didn't understand.

"She's struggling," a voice said, sharp and impatient.

"Of course she is," someone replied. "First heats are unpredictable. She doesn't even know what to do with herself."

"Maybe what she needs is..."

The rest of the sentence was muffled, but you felt the shift in the air almost immediately.

"Lee Know..." Chan shook his head disapprovingly.

Lee Know ignored him, his sharp eyes fixed on you, his expression unreadable, but the intensity of his gaze sent a ripple of something...fear? anticipation? need? through your chest.

"She's in too much distress," he said, his voice low and steady but edged with something primal. "The longer this goes on, the worse it'll be for her. We all know what she needs."

Chan rose to his feet immediately, his body tensing. "Don't," he warned, his tone calm but laced with authority.

"You're the one who told us to help her," he argued, his determination unwavering. "And she's crying out for it, whether she realizes it or not."

"We are helping her," Chan fought. "We're keeping her safe. But that doesn't mean anyone gets to claim her."

Lee Know stopped, his expression hardening. "You're acting like this isn't affecting you too," he said, his voice dropping into a growl. "Her scent is driving all of us insane. I'm just the only one being honest about it."

Chan's voice dropped, low as if he didn't want you to hear. "She's not ours to take. She's vulnerable, scared, and doesn't even understand what's happening to her. Back off."

You tried to sit up, your trembling arms barely able to hold your weight, but the motion sent a fresh wave of dizziness through you.

"Please," you whispered, your voice breaking.

Chan turned to you instantly, his sharp expression softening as he knelt at your side. "It's okay," he murmured, his voice steady. "You're okay. No one's going to hurt you."

Behind him, Lee Know let out a frustrated huff but finally backed off, retreating to the other side of the room.

"Please," you turned to Lee Know. "What is it that I need? Make it stop."

"She doesn't even know that much?" one of them joked before another elbowed them.

Chan reached for your hand, his touch firm but gentle. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice low enough that only you could hear. "This shouldn't be happening. But you can get through it without his help." He turned to the other guys."Let her rest," he said finally, his tone leaving no room for argument. "She's been through enough."

The others murmured their agreement, dispersing to different parts of the cabin. Chan assured that they were all in their rooms before offering a blanket and sitting on the couch beside where you curled up.

"You can stay here for the week," he offered as you leaned against him, breathing in his scent like a drug. "It should be over by then."

"A week?" your eyes grew large. You couldn't leave behind your life for a week. What was happening?

"Shh, you'll be okay," he hummed, as he stroked your hair. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering and hands gripping you closer, never letting go.

"Chan," you squeaked out, face buried against his chest as he held you there, inhaling deeply.

"I-I'm sorry," he released you, eyes wide in surprise at the lack of control he displayed. "I should get to bed."

"Chan," you called after him, but he'd already disappeared into his room, leaving you alone in the unfamiliar cabin. Without his musky scent, it smelled too empty, too clean. You covered yourself up to your nose with the blanket which helped a little, but it didn't do much to fight the craving in your belly.

So you went to seek out what Lee Know had mentioned...he knew how to help. Only, you hadn't been paying much attention to their departure and you weren't sure which room was his.

You studied each door, noticing notches in some, unsure if higher was better or worse. You knocked on a lower number, deciding that was safest.

The footsteps on the other side came immediately, almost as if they'd been waiting for you. You were sure it was Lee Know who must've heard your rustling, but someone else answered with a knowing smirk.

"Well hello little omega," he greeted, his voice threatening and raw.

"H-hello," you replied voice shaky. And yet, despite the pulsating of your heart, your body craved him, shouted for you to bury yourself against him even though his wet dog smell was nowhere as good as Chan's.

"Want to come inside and let Binnie take care of you?" he asked as he pushed open the door to make room, the creak filling the hallway and drawing another door to open.

"Hey! I spotted her first," a chubby-cheeked man said behind you.

"No you didn't," the blonde from earlier argued, appearing suddenly. "Chan did."

"No," he fought, stepping closer to you. "I did! I just didn't tell anyone."

"I think that an alpha should help," a taller, polite-looking figure spoke. "No sense in letting Han have at her only to make the heat worse for her."

"Shut up, Seungmin," the man who must've been named Han shoved him. "I can help."

A growl from down the hall had Han and Seungmin scurrying back to their doorways. Only the blonde remained, curiously watching to see what would happen.

"Bin," Lee Know sighed, pulling you into him with a sharp tug on your wrist. Even that small touch had you whimpering, craving another. He even smelled good, too...like a thick rain. It was dizzying and made it hard to think. "Chan said we don't take advantage of her."

Binnie laughed, obviously disagreeing with Chan's wait-it-out method. Honestly, you disagreed too. Whatever they could do to help, you wanted it. You turned into Lee Know, running your hand up his bare chest until it sat against his jaw, urging him to look down at you. He had yet to breathe, as if your scent so close would be too much, as if he'd lose control like Chan had should he allow his lungs such sweetness.

"How would you help me if he hadn't said that?" you asked, voice high and needy.

The others waited with wide eyes, daring Lee Know to tell you. He bit his lip, running a single finger down your spine so that you arched into him, incapable of controlling yourself with him so close. "I'd..." he began, but didn't continue when the last door in the hall opened.

Chan stalked to the center, his figure making long shadows on the floor with every sconce he passed. His glare alone caused the rest to retreat to their rooms. The absence of Lee Know's fingers on your wrist was noticeable, and you touched it with your other hand, trying to absorb as much of his lingering heat as you could.

"Your heat is dangerous," Chan reiterated, stroking your cheek gently, sucking in a sharp inhale as he selfishly allowed himself that pleasure after denying you for hours.

"Help me," you pleaded, stepping closer so that you overwhelmed him. "Make it stop."

"Is it that bad, little one?" he hummed in pity, eyes falling to your legs that had crossed absentmindedly before trailing to your interlocked hands. He reached for one, the same that Lee Know had, and sniffed the place Lee Know had touched. "Did it feel good to touch him?"

You nodded, eyes closing shut as you imagined being held again. But your eyes opened when Chan's plump lips pressed against your skin. Replacing Lee Know's simple touch with a much more impressive feeling.

"Chan," you whined, legs nearly giving out already, the ache in your belly growing tenfold.

"I can see now how wrong I was to deny you. Allow me to make it up to you," he offered in a low voice as he pulled you towards his room, pulled you towards the scent you'd been in a euphoric haze by all day.

His room was a bubble of his beautiful odor. Every shelf, every blanket, every book had been touched by him, and now so were you.

Chan hugged you from behind as you took in his room, set his chin on your shoulder, and kissed your neck. You placed your hands on his and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be consumed by him.

When you opened them, you first made eye contact with his reflection, eyes glowing a soft yellow. But then you saw yours were illuminated in a soft silver, and pressed your hand to your cheek in awe, tugging down the skin to see your eyes more clearly.

"You've never seen your wolf eyes before have you little one?" Chan asked.

"W-wolf?" you stuttered in shock.

"Mhm," he hummed, squeezing you tighter. "Wolf. We look human, but our senses are heightened. We can see better, feel better, taste better, hear better..."

"And smell better," you added with a deep inhale. You'd never been so consumed by a scent before.

"Yes," he smiled softly. "And smell better. And as an omega," he began, fingers kneading your sides desperately, "You're a perfect fit for an alpha."

"Are you an alpha?" you checked.

"Of course," he replied as if it should've been common knowledge.

"And an alpha can make this better?" you asked, sinking back against him and wishing he could take away whatever this ache was right now.

"Yes, little one. But to get out of this heat..." he sighed, his breath warm against your ear, his fingers squeezing you closer so that you felt like you were a part of him. "I need to bed you."

Your eyes snapped open in surprise. You hadn't expected that, hadn't realized what this gnawing feeling in your stomach truly was. You weren't sick or dying...you were desperate to breed. It was completely primal.

"Will it hurt?" you asked worriedly. If this heat made being horny painful, surely the sex was different too.

"Yes," he answered honestly with a soft kiss and a slight nibble on your ear lobe. "But then it won't." He pressed his lips to your neck, licking the skin until you were a mess of cries. The only reason you hadn't fallen to the ground in a puddle of whines was because he was still holding you up.

You managed to loosen his grip just enough to turn around. His nostrils flared from how deep he was breathing, as if your scent alone was enough to make him mad.

"I want you to help me," you pleaded before looping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss.

Chan growled against your lips, vibrating them before sucking them and pulling your bottom between his teeth. You gasped from how good it felt, nearly crumbling again and using his muscled form to hold yourself up.

"It's going to take months to get your scent out of my room," he complained as he walked you back to the bed. "Maybe years if you make a mess," he imagined, his cock growing hard against your belly.

"Chan," you hummed, pulling him into your neck where his kisses felt like stings. "It hurts so bad."

"I know," he validated as he laid you down. "I know it does."

He tore his shirt off before joining you on the bed.  His tanned skin was hot to the touch. It felt nice in contrast to the chilly winter air. And it looked nice...Chan was lean and muscular as if he'd done nothing but prepare to fuck. His abs were hard when he lay beside you, and his bicep flexed as he tore your shirt down the middle to expose you.

"So beautiful," he murmured, more to himself as if in a daze. He pressed kisses down your chest, sucking your nipples and making your skin tingle wherever he touched.

Inside, you were a swirl of nerves and need. You craved him in any way you could and yet this was all so new that you worried you'd do it wrong. You watched Chan move further down, nearly kicking him for teasing you with kisses over your jeans against your core.

"Off," you begged, reaching down to undo the buttons yourself. You weren't in a patient mood tonight, and he seemed more than happy to make you wait. "Take them off."

"You smell so fucking good," Chan groaned the moment the button popped open. He tore your pants and underwear off eagerly, ripping the seams to get to you sooner. The moment you were naked, he buried his tongue against your center, incapable of waiting a moment longer to taste you.

"Chan!" you squealed, hips grinding against his face as he sucked and cleaned every drop he could get out of you.

"You taste so sweet, little one," he moaned as he pushed your thighs apart to give himself more access.

You cried out, pulling his hair and trying to get off with just his mouth, but it was no use, you needed more. 

When he came back up, he dipped his tongue into your mouth, letting you taste the remnants of yourself with throaty groans.

"Need you to bed me," you pleaded between kisses. "Need you to make it go away."

Chan stood for a moment to remove his pants, giving you the perfect opportunity to take him all in. Though standing in the shadows, your omega eyes made it possible to see him very clearly. His cock was thick, so thick you weren't sure your whole hand would be able to wrap around it. And its length...he had to be as long as your forearm. You gulped worriedly and met his comforting gaze.

"It hurts at first, but then feels good," he reminded you. 

"How would you know? Do you fuck yourself?" you joked nervously.

"No," he chuckled as he rejoined you in bed. "But omegas are made for alphas. And we smell best to ones we are meant to breed with."

"What do I smell like to you?" you wondered.

Chan breathed in deeply and closed his eyes, a soft smile forming on his lips. "Sunshine," he sighed.

Your eyes sparkled at him when he reopened his, curiosity painting his face as he obviously wanted to know what you thought of him.

"You remind me of Earth. A deep earthy, forest smell," you hummed as you buried yourself against his neck, the pheromones making everything stronger, making you wetter.

"Decades," he whispered suddenly. "It's going to take decades to make your scent disappear from this room.

"I'm sorry," you apologized with a kiss to the pulse in his neck.

"Don't be," he moaned as he aligned himself with your heat, finally preparing to fuck away the pain.

When he pushed in, your body felt so heightened, so aware of where the slit on his tip was as it journeyed through your walls, where his fingers settled on your waist and cheek, the way his eyes watched your expression carefully with concern and masked desperation.

You whined in surprise at just how much your body had to adjust to fit him. And, to your surprise, claws retracted from your fingers, digging into his back.

"I-I'm sorry," you whined, unable to control them and too dazed to focus enough to try.

"It's okay," he promised. "Feels good. Feels so fucking good," he groaned, eyes rolling back.

"It hurts," you cried, feeling like he was splitting you in two the further he went.

"I know," he soothed with a stroke through your hair and kiss to your cheek.

He pulled out briefly giving you a moment to breathe, and pushed in again, this time not stopping until he settled completely in you. Your cunt pulsed around him, having a heartbeat of its own while trying to take him, and your claws latched on, sinking deeper into his skin.

"Breathe, little one," Chan reminded you as he thrust again. "You're doing so well."

You winced and tried to find your breath, but couldn't. Your body was tense, struggling to adjust. When you opened your eyes Chan was there, forehead resting against yours as he watched your every move.

You bit your lip to try to be strong, drawing blood when he pushed in again.

"Messy, messy girl," Chan scolded and pressed his lips to yours, licking up the red droplets and sealing the wound.

"When does it feel good?" you asked. At the very least, that ache in your belly had been reduced to a quiet buzz. It was manageable as long as you were being stabbed by Chan's alpha cock.

"When I bite you," he answered, eyes searching yours for any hesitancies.

"Then bite me," you whined, wrapping your legs around him.

"I can't," he replied. "Not until..." he trailed off, cheeks burning red as if he'd exposed a secret he'd yet to share.

"Until what?" you asked, wondering what could possibly cause him to hold back.

"Until you can take all of me," he said, though it felt like there was still something he was keeping from you.

"Am I not taking all of you?" you gasped in surprise and looked down to see that he was right, you still had more to take.

You tossed your head back to the pillow in frustration. You wondered if Lee Know or Bin would've been better. Maybe they'd have been smaller. But then Chan kissed your throat, and you knew you were right where you were supposed to be.

"You can do it, little one. You just have to relax," he cooed.

You took a deep breath and tried to focus on your breathing, tried to ignore the pain and give in to Chan. You started with a kiss, a soft kiss to his lips that awoke your insides and made your heart race.

"There you go," he praised and kissed more deeply while trailing his fingers down your side and making you tremble. The more passionate your lips became, the more your body opened and accepted him. Eventually, Chan let out a primal groan and stilled inside you, his glowing eyes even brighter now.

"Bite me," you whimpered, knowing subconsciously that this was it.

"When I do, it claims you," he warned. "Do you want that?"

Claim. The word felt significant, too important to be given just a second of thought. But your heat surged through you, engulfing every cell on your body as you yelled out in pain.

"Yes," you pleaded. "Please!"

Chan nodded and led your head back against the pillow so that your throat was open to him. He licked the spot he'd licked earlier, preparing it for himself, and just before you felt his teeth, you felt a thick bulbous mound push against your center.

"Chan," you cried out, tears streaming from how much it hurt trying to fit. He was too big, it was too big.

"I've got you," he vowed and sunk in his teeth.

You screamed again from how much the bite's initial impact hurt, but then you felt his teeth dispel a warmth that flooded your veins and settled your heat so that it was all numb for a moment before becoming nothing but intense pleasure.

"Chan," you moaned, grinding against his cock and using him to get off as you'd intended all along.

"One second," he chuckled and pressed your hips firmly to the mattress as he fucked the bulb into you, forcing it to fit when it should've been impossible. "Ah, fuck," he grunted when it finally squeezed in.

"Channie," you whimpered and squeezed his neck, digging your claws into his shoulders without care.

"God call me that again," he groaned as he shifted your hips higher to fuck you.

"Channie," you smirked, loving the beautifully fucked out look on his face.

"That's right, baby," he grunted. "Channie is gonna make it all better."

He pounded his cock into you over and over. He had been right...It felt amazing now. You'd never felt so satisfied and full.

"Harder," you pleaded with a sharp smack to his ass.

"Fuck," he cursed in surprise and slammed his cock into you, bruising your thighs in the process. His fingers dug into your sides to hold you still, but all you could focus on was the sharp prick whenever his cock hit your cervix. It was maddening, dizzying.

"Need you to cum in me Channie," you cried.

"My knot it's..." he groaned, stuffing you full again before stilling and looking down in pity. "A knot release is..." he began to explain but you cut him off and began grinding your hips against him, unwilling to stop for a moment.

"I don't care what it is. I need it," you cried. It was a desire you didn't understand that stemmed from deep inside. But whatever a knot was, you had to have it.

"I'll give you whatever want," Chan conceded with a kiss that made your walls tighten around him.

You knew it was close, knew the heat was ready to explode. Every breath came with a whimper, every thrust drew out a moan. Chan's scent had grown so strong throughout all of this that you could think of nothing as if his odor was a foggy cloud on your brain.

"It's going to..." he began, voice rasped in desire.

"Channie," you begged, keeping him buried inside you with a strong hold on his hips.

And when he finally came, it was like permission for your body. Chan's cock came in heavy spurts, making you feel so warm and so full. He watched you so carefully for any sign of discomfort, but it was like an amazing high. Euphoric and never-ending.

When you finally finished, he was still coming, his brows furrowed and jaw slack as every crevice was filled by his knot. You felt sorry for Chan, realizing it must've been painful for him to have carried such a load.

You kissed him through it, offering soft words of encouragement until he eventually stilled, his body growing weak as he lay against you like a blanket.

"Thank you," he sighed as you stroked his hair, soothed him just as he had done for you earlier.

"I feel so much better," you told him. "I should be thanking you."

"Mmmm," he hummed with sleepy eyes as he rolled to his side, pulling you with him. The glow from his eyes settled on your breasts, and he unexpectedly reached out to palm one, earning a quiet moan from your lips. "They're bigger."

"Are they?" you asked in confusion. Looking down, you realized he was right. Your chest had somehow grown in the last few hours.

"You accepted my pups," he explained with a soft smile.

"Pups?" you repeated with wide eyes.

"Mhm," Chan answered in his half-dazed state. "My pups."

You didn't know what to say. You were going to have his pups? It felt so sudden, and yet...it was what your body had wanted all along.

"Come here," he pulled you close, pressing your skin to his as if he couldn't bear to be apart. He stroked down your back, making you shiver.

"What does it mean to be claimed?" you asked, knowing you should've cared more earlier when you allowed it.

"You are mine," he replied sleepily. "And I am yours."

"Forever?" you asked with a yawn, feeling too tired for such big declarations.