no control.

[amyperalt]

my favorite moment

[silas-kovac]

melcoopers​:

Melissa caught the tail end of the kiss. Truly, only psychopaths kissed with their eyes open. Or men whose minds were on other people things. He only broke away when Melissa looked up - rather suddenly. Was that because of her? Good.

Melissa couldn’t prevent the curling, black feeling in her stomach when she saw the kiss. She couldn’t decide if she wanted to kiss away that woman’s taste or punish him by making him repent before Melissa gifted him with a kiss of her own. The latter was her favored option. He could handle it. 

There was something dominant in Melissa that rarely had a chance to come out. Something superior and proud that previous partners hadn’t expected out of her or wanted. When people looked at her they saw one thing: a sweet blonde, with big innocent eyes that wanted a gentle fuck, to be taken care of. Some of it, sure, but mostly she wanted control. 

Something was different with her stranger that made her desire to control come out in full force, scrambling to get its hands on him. Something in his eyes that made her want to tell him, you belong to me tonight. Just tonight. She tried to ignore the disappointment that clawed at her heart when she thought about how she’d never see him again after this. This was a supernatural club, there was no way he’d be down with fucking a hunter on the regular and she shouldn’t even be comfortable with doing this much with him.

Attempting to ignore the skip in her heartbeat when he grinned at her - the kind that made his eyes light up and him look like an excited 12 year old boy, in the best way - she laughed. The laugh that fell from Melissa’s lips was drawn out, loud enough that she threw her head back and closed her eyes, exposing her neck. “You’re so full of it! Bullshit, I mean. Not sexual prowess.” 

Her laughter continued when he gave her a spin and then abruptly stopped when she felt him against her back, something hard and needy nudging against her ass. Melissa’s stomach flipped as she twined her fingers in his, rolling her head back to look at his face. Her nose was beside his neck and she inhaled, breathing him in and clocking his distinct cologne that was reminiscent of the woods she had spent so much time in. She wanted to turn into him, breathe deeper, but she wasn’t about to show that kind of weakness. Already, she’d be shocked if he wasn’t able to tell how hard her heart was pounding, how excited she was.

Their hips were in motion together, fucking with too many clothes on. Melissa pressed herself back, grinding herself against his cock that was fully at attention - maybe if she tried hard enough she could get him to cum in his pants on the dance floor. That’d humble him. The lips that were parted in arousal shifted into another self-satisfied smile. When he leaned down to speak again, his low and gruff voice against her skin made Melissa shiver, but his words made her giggle, shaking off the feeling and getting her bearings once more.

“Are you jealous already? You’re one to talk. I thought you liked busty brunettes,” she said, just enough venom infused in her tone that he’d be able to pick up on it. Admittedly, she had no hard feelings towards the woman. Who had all of his attention, after all? Melissa didn’t dissuade him from the notion that her and Jason were together, it was kind of fun to think about her stranger stealing her away in the night from the hunter.

“What kind of man do you think deserves me?” Reluctantly, Melissa broke away, stopping their dance suddenly. God, she wanted more. More touching, more heat, a chance to get more information. A chance to have him down on his knees in front of her. But what she wanted could not be done on the dance floor. Melissa spun around to face him, poking a finger firmly into his chest. “I think it should be the kind of man that works for me.” It was just them on the dance floor for a moment, Melissa staring her stranger down with a challenging expression, the two of them only connected by her gaze and a finger. 

With a blinding smile and a raised eyebrow, Melissa left the dance floor. She only looked over her shoulder at him once, expecting him to follow and work. Melissa caught Jason’s eye as she walked towards the entrance of the club. He frowned and attempted to pull away from the vampire, but the woman had a vice like grip on him and Melissa shook her head anyway, glancing at the exit. She was leaving and Jason didn’t need to follow. But not before leading her stranger on a winding trip through the dance floor.

He rolled his eyes. He wasn’t sure why she found his obvious sexual genius laughable. Perhaps because she hadn’t yet experienced the dexterity of his tongue. Or the adroitness of his fingers. There was also the sheer magnitude of his cock to consider.

“The only thing I’m full of is a high sperm count and the ability to give you multiple mind-blowing orgasms,” he said, completely confident that he could, indeed, rock her world at a moment’s notice. He was practically the Albert Einstein of fucking --- if anyone’s dick deserved the Nobel Prize, it was his. Not that she would have been impressed in the slightest. He narrowed his eyes when she continued to fucking laugh at him. That was very frustrating; he’d never had to try this hard with other women.

His father used to tell him that there were “no doors that the Kovac name couldn’t open.” Somehow, he doubted that his name alone would be able to pry those bolts off.

Even putting his twelve years of formal dance lessons to use didn’t seem to sway her. And that shit was obviously impressive. Silas glanced down at her. There was just no way; it was obviously a game she was intent on playing, but certainly not one he was going to let her win. Silas honed in on the two things that couldn’t lie to him: her heart and her pussy. His fingers, entwined in hers, ran along her torso mindlessly. He moved now to the rhythm of her pounding heart, which – as his hips ground into her ass – began to flutter faster than the wings of a mockingbird. He smiled and inhaled deeply.

God, if she tasted as good as she smelled (which was fucking heaven), well---

Silas exhaled by her ear, which – along with his words – seemed to produce a shiver. Again he smiled, even more so when she accused him, of all people, of being jealous. It was nonsensical. 

Silas Kovak didn’t do jealousy.

Still, it was nice to hear that she seemed to be a little jealous herself. Now to press further. “Oh, I do,” he said pointedly. “She had a great ass too. Don’t you think?” 

He didn’t have longer than a moment to bask in his attempt to escalate her jealousy. In fact, he had even less time to process that she was now leaving him stranded in the middle of the dance floor --- horny and confused. Of course, the confusion soon turned into determination.

There was nothing Silas Kovak enjoyed more than a challenge.

And he wasn’t opposed to working for it, so long as he got to taste the fruits of his labor. Nutmeg peach in this case. Silas followed her delicious scent through the crowd and into the cool, damp night. He breathed in slowly, head tilted towards the overcast sky with an amused smile on his face.

He saw her then, exiting the crowded entrance, looking extremely fucking pleased with herself. He wasn’t going to let her win so easily. Silas jogged towards his kitten and fell into step beside her soundlessly. A wet breeze whooshed past them as he slung an arm over her shoulders and smirked down at her. “My flat’s the other way, you know,” he told her, keeping his tone casual.

His eyes locked onto her breasts and their natural reaction to the sudden chill. Was she wearing a bra? He quirked his eyebrows up. “Well, either you’re very excited to see me or—“ he trailed off with a crooked grin.

As the wind began to pick up, he used it as his opening to pull back and shrug out of his jacket. “Here,” he said, offering it to her. His eyes twinkled with amusement. “You know... I hear friction is the best way to generate heat.”

[buffyblue]

[silas-kovac]

melcoopers​:

Jason and her never got past date one, but they were comfortable enough with each other and dancing so close to him felt like nothing to Melissa. He was just someone there to help her fit in and be back up, just in case. Being human, they already were odd ones out and needed to stick together, especially in Transfusion. Though the rumors said that the vamps here liked to leave their humans alive – to play with. The thought made Melissa sick, but she was willing to try anything, go anywhere at this point. Stupid Moby Dickwad.

Jason’s hands wandered occasionally, but not in any serious way. He acted like when she was fifteen and hormonal, testing the boundaries with her first real crush and seeing how far she could go. Melissa simply moved his hands and that was that. Jason didn’t like her, he was just horny. She could relate, the reoccurring nightmares (sex dreams?) had left her worked up, but not enough to ruin her friendship and connection with him. 

The hunter kept her body focused on Jason, hands gripping the arms that were wrapped around her waist and hips shifting against him the best she could, but his movements were a bit sloppy. The rest of her attention flickered over the dance floor, eyes catching on each individual and attempting to catalog them in her mind. Who stood out? 

Melissa felt his eyes before she saw him. It was a scratching feeling that scraped down her spine, making her shiver. 

When she caught his leering there was a brief moment where she stopped, breath catching. Melissa wished she could say she recognized the heady gaze, but the truth was no one had looked at her like that before – like they wanted to devour her and fuck her and then fuck her while they were devouring her and now she was salivating thinking about it, warmth blossoming in her stomach. This was new. Except the intensity of his blue eyes felt familiar. 

After a moment, Melissa’s face split into a wide smile that was, admittedly, smug. The strangers intentions were painted all over his face and she knew exactly what she wanted to do with them. It was a play she had pulled only twice before. Have someone take you home just to snoop then get a call from your “daughter” who needed to be picked up from a sleepover. It was a bit disheartening how well it worked.

She might not pull the same trick this time. 

Melissa thought it was only right to give as good as she got and she dragged her eyes up and down the strangers body as she peeked over Jason’s shoulder. He was dressed finely, clearly someone okay with flaunting his wealth - at least he expressed it in his fashion. She favored the broad shoulders she wanted to feel beneath her hands and the cutest developing wrinkles around his eyes. How old was he? Too old for her, whether he was a vampire or not, but she had a track record with older men and women. Chalk it up to parental issues.

It took her brain a moment to catch up and find his partner, who also captured Melissa’s attention – not as much as Mr. Death Stare, though. The blonde’s mouth hung open slightly as she took in the brunette, eyes lingering over her chest and gazing at her long legs in approval. If that was his type, he had no reason to be looking at her and her mosquito bites on her chest. Melissa’s eyes were drawn to his and she cocked an eyebrow. Time to find out his reason. This set up just wouldn’t do.

“Partner change,” she whispered into Jason’s ear, cupping her hand gently over the back of his head and neck. Jason clocked where her eyes were and they shifted slightly. This was something Melissa had done often, abandon Jason to chase a lead, so he knew what to do.

Melissa lightly bumped shoulders with the woman, giving her an easy smile. “Wanna switch?” she asked with a wink and a head tilt towards Jason. There was no fight she wanted to start – not yet. If she played it like a game, maybe the woman would be amenable. Melissa wanted that man though and wasn’t opposed to theft.

The woman snarled at first, looking in angry confusion at Melissa before her expression melted into one of curiosity when she caught a glimpse of Jason. She must have been a vampire, because the first thing the woman trained her eyes on were Jason’s neck, before running her eyes over the rest of his form and smiling. 

“I’m down for a shake up,” she replied in a husky voice, already breaking from Melissa’s stranger and leaning her head into Jason’s neck, inhaling fervidly. This vampire truly wasted no time. Melissa was brought down to earth for a moment and looked at Jason, a questioning expression, you’ll be alright? But he was already whisking the vampire away, a confident smile on his face.

Melissa found her rightful place in the strangers arms. He was so warm. Not a vampire, she was relieved to find out. The expensive clothes had been making her think he was some ancient king that wanted to suck her dry. She wanted to suck him dry. Her arms went around his neck and she brushed her thumb against his pulse point, pressing down and feeling the pounding of his heart. It blended with the similar pounding of the music in a satisfying way. Hands crept up to his hair and she curiously pulled at the curls, twisting one in her finger.

Nudging a leg between his own, she got as close as possible. She felt something hard. Was that…? The heat between them felt electric, the same kind of buzzing she had felt in her dreams and Melissa was unable to take her eyes off of his. 

The smug smile found its way back on Melissa’s face. “You’re not subtle, you know. And you’re kind of rude! When you’re dancing with a woman like that you should be giving her your utmost attention.” There was a pause as Melissa bit her bottom lip in anticipation, excited fluttering in her stomach. Beneath this mans eyes she felt fiesty. “Show me how well you can pay attention.” 

Melissa’s hips bumped against his, her leg dragging across where she knew his cock was, teasing. It was! The grind with his previous partner must have left him hot and bothered, because she could feel him getting hard against her and the flame in her stomach grew. She honestly felt bad about reaping the rewards of the vampires hard work.

Remember your mission. Try to get information, the logical side of her brain screamed. Her hormones pouted.

If looks could have it off, then his eyes were already fucking Melissa six ways to Sunday.

Silas was so hard at this point that his dick could have cut through literal steel --- it was the bloody Superman of erections. The sensation caused him to bite down hard on his bottom lip. It was actually pretty goddamn uncomfortable; like a pounding migraine, only in his groin instead of his head. He unwillingly had flashbacks to his pubescence, when he couldn’t even stand for the pledge of allegiance without his cock also rising to salute the flag. 

He hadn’t wanted something -- or rather, someone --  this bad since he was fourteen and still a virgin. 

His hands gripped the fabric of his vampire abettor's silken dress, then went to the back of her head as she turned around and shimmied herself slowly down his body. He smirked at Melissa, his eyes pointedly glimpsing down at his buxom partner who looked like she was ready to suck him off right there on the dance floor.

He placed a finger under her chin and pulled her back up towards his awaiting mouth. She acquiesced all too willingly, her blue eyes blown dark and wide with arousal. It really meant nothing if they weren’t the right shade of cerulean; if they were almond-shaped and sultry, rather than round and innocent. Silas hummed boredly as she leaned in to connect their lips, his hands gripping her ass more so out of obligation rather than any desire for her. His unwavering gaze never once left Melissa, even as the vampire deepened their kiss and pressed against him with a sense of urgency that was actually kind of pathetic for someone so ancient. 

Not that he hadn’t felt the same wretched craving since he’d first laid eyes on her. He was like a bloody addict who needed their fix. And fuck, if he could stand it any longer. He was practically jonesing for a taste of her.

It was pitiable. Though, perhaps, not as pathetic as the reaction his traitorous body produced when Melissa finally met his eyes --- a fucking shudder of all things. Silas removed his lips from the vampire so fast he nearly sent her stumbling backwards. This action seemed to grab Melissa’s attention; or rather, his partner seemed to catch her curiosity. It was admittedly pretty fucking hot, to see her checking another woman out so blatantly, but also a little... well, he couldn’t really put a name to the feeling, but it shared a distant relation to the annoyance he still harbored for Melissa’s date.

Nowhere near as irritating, though.

He breathed out when she whispered something to whats-his-face, fully prepared to lose his shit and commit mass genocide when suddenly, she wasn’t dancing with him anymore; suddenly, she was walking away from him and towards---

Silas’ entire fucking essence perked up (as well as a few other things that didn’t really need any more perking up) when his kitten appeared in front of him, in all of her spirited glory. He couldn’t contain the lopsided grin that seemed to tug at his lips.

It all seemed to happen at once. He couldn’t even really process the how, or the why (though, he suspected he knew at least part of the why --- he could feel it radiating off of her like a pheromone), only the who. He grit his teeth together as she pressed herself against him, dropping any pretense of space that probably should have been put between them. 

There was that truculence again.

His mouth opened into a disbelieving, but wholly approving, smile as she promptly wasted no time teasing him with both her words and her deft little body. He almost forgot himself for a moment there (but only for a moment).

“I think you’ll find that what I lack in subtlety, I make up for in sexual prowess,” he said with a suggestive raise of his eyebrows as both the song and the lights on the dance floor began to change.

Silas rearranged them both into a more suitable position for dancing. He licked his lips as his left hand, which was pressed firmly to her back, moved even lower. The tempo was fast, but not excessive --- though, that thigh that was currently slotted between his legs certainly was. Silas swallowed the arousal that was beginning to cloud his mind (clearly her intent). It was time for him to seduce her. 

He began to rock their hips to the beat, smirking down at her as he held two fingers to his eyes then turned them lazily toward her to show that he was indeed paying attention. He then twirled her out with his free hand and pulled her back even closer. Only now, her back was pressed flush against his front. He took her hands in his and wrapped his arms tightly around her.

“And how does your beau feel about you seeking the attention of other men?” He asked her, snorting slightly at the notion that he would ever be concerned with that scrawny little fuck’s feelings. He actually derived a great deal of pleasure in cuckholding him.

At that thought, Silas glanced over Melissa’s shoulder at her... whatever and his former vampire accomplice, sharing a laugh as well as a dance. Well, that was an unexpected development. “He doesn’t seem too disconsolate about you and me,” he observed in a low voice. “Which means he’s either a repressed homosexual or—“

A pause for added effect, before he leaned in beside her ear to whisper his second, and likely more feasible, theory. “Perhaps, he doesn’t deserve you.” 

[literatigifs]

[melcoopers]

obsessed with you

“You always get too fixated, Mel.” Jason, her one and only hunter friend was sat beside her at the bar of a surprisingly swanky club that she knew to be a hot spot for supernaturals. One of the types that catered to whoever; vampires, witches (that part scared her), werewolves. Preferably she’d be at a werewolf bar keeping an ear out for pack talk, maybe a seedy one - she always felt more comfortable in the bars where everyone was wearing flannel instead of club clothes, but here she was in a short, sparkling blue dress attempting to fit in with the party goers. Jason was only there in case something went wrong. He didn’t go out with her every time she was trying to pick up info, but enough that he understood this was her mission.

Jason continued on, taking his last swig of beer and giving her wrist a quick squeeze. “You’re never going to find that wolf, why bother anyways? I thought you preferred to be your Ma’s little research assistant,” he teased. 

“Exactly!” Melissa shook his grip of her wrist as delicately as she could. Her mother had tried to set Melissa up with Jason after her mess of an engagement, hoping a steady hunter was what she needed to get back on track. Really, she just thought her mother was trying to build up the perfect little hunting legacy she dreamed about with Jason. 

“Exactly,” she repeated more emphatically. “I want to research him.” In detail. Tear his head apart and see what makes him tick. Take a lock of his hair and perform voodoo on him. Keep him locked up in her basement and get him all worked up and scared like he had her. “He didn’t kill or even attack me, which means I could hypothetically get information from him. About his pack, rival packs.” Melissa’s eyes were lighting up and she was beginning to gesture animatedly, going on the same tangent she had already been on with Jason and her mother multiple times. She couldn’t keep her mouth shut about this stupid werewolf. He was her Moby Dickwad, as she had so lovingly referred to him as in her notes.

Jason rolled his eyes. Neither him nor her mother were confident in her ability to see this through. Even if she found him, the only thing that would be done would be to kill him. Her research was a pipe dream to the more experienced hunters. He cut off her rambling and tugged her onto the dance floor where she went reluctantly. It was harder to hear large groups there, but easier to single people out.

Melissa’s expression softened and she gave in.

@silas-kovac​

[silas-kovac]

Transfusion was not one of his usual haunts, for obvious reasons.

He narrowed his eyes in the dimness of the hallway, pushing past the shoulder of a blood bag adorned in a leather harness with a ball gag between his lips. The human was being led on a leash by a drag queen who was dressed like Elvira. Somehow, it wasn’t nearly as repellent as the late 90s house music that was pounding from the top floor. This place tended to attract a certain creed of clientele: Fangers made up about 80% of the club’s populace, while werewolves (most of which belonged to the Langmore pack - a gaggle of white trash tweakers from Rogue River who traded their blood for crank) only constituted 15%. The remaining 5% were either some kind of other or one of those bound and gagged Lestat groupies who got off on being human juice boxes.

Silas was actually offended, that his kitten would think so low of him; to expect to find him in a place like this. He glanced at a human who was getting a blowjob (and probably a phlebotomy) from a vampire near the bathroom. He was also wildly turned on that she would associate him with whips, chains, and ball gags. Of course, she hadn’t actually seen the night club’s deeply kinky, sadomasochistic underbelly. Not yet, anyway. That would require taking the back entrance --- perhaps if he showed her, he thought with a devious smirk, she would grant him access to her back entrance -- which was off limits to any who didn’t already know of its existence.

Silas stepped into the main room of Transfusion’s seedy basement. The dim, red lighting, which washed over all of the writhing half-naked bodies, made everything appear even more debauched than it actually was. It smelled purely of sex and blood, which on any other day of the week would have done it for him, but--- presently, he was on a mission.

He stepped over a dead body on the floor, checked to make sure that none of the excess blood leaking from her neck had gotten on his 2,000-dollar leather Berluti loafers, then proceeded to make his way to the stairs.

It was like leaving hell for purgatory. The bouncer guarding the door – Silas recognized him as one of the Langmores, solely by the garish tattoo on his neck and the strung-out expression on his face --- locked it shut behind him and narrowed his bloodshot eyes at Silas.

“Send Elizabeth my regards,” Silas said through a fake smile.

He was fairly certain that that was the name of at least one of the bouncer’s sisters. Said bouncer snarled quite ferociously as Silas turned away from him with a smirk. Well, based on that complete overreaction, he supposed the rumors of the Langmore clan keeping it in the family really were true.

Silas stepped into the lounge area, which was mostly empty save for a few witches getting off on their own magic. Speaking of getting off--- he searched the dance floor as he made his way to the bar. His kitten was somewhere among the rest of the humans; he knew this because he’d followed her here from her... quaint little house on the other side of town.

Silas sat beside a rather busty brunette who was nursing a bright red drink through a straw, making eyes at him. He nodded at the bartender, who noticed his presence but was already busy with another customer.

The woman next to him – a vampire no doubt --- leaned in closer and placed a gloved hand on his arm. He flexed instinctively.

“Nice arms,” she said in a breathy voice.

“Nice tits,” he returned, eyes glancing down briefly to appreciate the giant melons spilling from her tiny black dress. He then turned back to the dance floor, which was really a testament to the power that Melissa seemed to have over him, because under normal circumstances he wouldn’t have been able to look away.

The woman smirked at him, then snapped her fingers at the bartender who came (probably in more ways than one) right away. Silas couldn’t hear what she was ordering, and didn’t really give a fuck, but could only guess that it was a drink for him.

“You got a name, handsome?” He heard her say, but ignored her as Melissa’s  unmistakable backside suddenly came into view.

And yeah--- he would have recognized that ass anywhere. Silas licked his lips, his eyes practically devouring the sight before him. She was all done up, like some kind of a slutty modern-day Cinderella (just his type). Her long blonde hair was loose and she was wearing a dangerously short blue dress that was practically begging to be ripped off. 

Fuck. He could feel himself getting hard. 

He cleared his throat and forced himself to turn away before he came on the spot. Silas waved the proffered Bloody Mary that was then set in front of him away, knowing well enough just how literal they took their ingredients here.

“Why don’t we skip the chit chat, and get right to the part where you grind that glorious ass against my dick?” He said, jerking his head to the dance floor with a crooked grin. He removed himself from the bar stool and offered her a hand like the well-bred fucking gentleman that he was.

The fantastic thing about four-hundred something year old cock hungry vampires, was that they tended not to beat around the bush. They also, in his experience, tended not to have bushes.

“I thought you’d never ask,” she finally said after a beat, accepting his invitation to dry hump on the dance floor with a sly smirk of her own. 

Silas led her to the center of the room, his eyes set on the vacancy beside Melissa and her rather unremarkable date. He grit his teeth at the sight of them dancing. The boy clearly had no idea what to do with his hands. Or his hips. Or his anything, really. 

Silas spun his vampire accomplice into his chest, allowing his hands to slowly trail the length of her body until they found purchase in her voluptuous hips. He began to move easily to the rhythm of the song, watching as Melissa’s boyfriend (the word tasted bitter in his mind) fumbled with her body. 

What a fucking joke.

His own date turned around and began to grind against him as promised. She was barely a blip on his radar, though, as he stared intently at his new blonde obsession and the boyfriend who kept stepping on her toes.

Now, to wait for his window of opportunity.

[silas-kovac]

melcoopers​:  

The massive wolf silently stalked closer and even if she couldn’t see his eyes flicking over her, sizing her up, she would have been able to feel their presence. His look was so heavy on her skin she wanted to rip his eyes from his head, leave bleeding sockets in their place. Stop looking at me! She wanted to scream. Her chest was rising and falling quickly, with her soft and swift rabbit breaths.

Melissa couldn’t shake the buzzing feeling in the shed that had worked its way under her skin. The wolf wasn’t moving for her quite yet, he was just looking. Who the hell did he think he was? What was his end game here? Too curious for her own good, she was already bubbling with questions and theories about the mysterious figure. Why wasn’t he attacking?

The humanity was there, even in his canine face. The curiosity in his eyes, the intent in his expression. In the back of her mind, she tried to craft a human face for him and she could just picture the raised eyebrows, daring her to do something. When her bloodied knife clattered to the ground Melissa gave him what he wanted.

The knife went to his throat and her nostrils flared, determination, annoyance, and a bit of pride painted on her face. Melissa was someone with something to prove as a hunter. The cold silver of her blade pressed firmly into his fur. 

“So, what? You just crashed in to get a good look at me?” She stepped forward, chin high and bringing another knife to her other hand, quietly. The last one she had tucked into her sleeve, but it was poised to slice it’s way into the wound she had already inflicted if he made one wrong move. “I’m only out here for feral wolves. I suggest you go.” Eyes cold, voice low. It was essentially the same face she pulled when children she babysat wouldn’t listen, but it had a good track record.

Just as she was about to go on further, she heard a crackle from her walkie.

“Melissa? Come in. I think you can go on home.” Lauren Cooper’s voice sounded tired and tinny from the device, breaking the tension from the staring contest Melissa and the wolf found themselves in. There was a pregnant pause before Melissa spoke again. 

“If I don’t answer back, she’s going to come here and she’s going to kill you.” Melissa pressed the knife deeper. “And I will help.” She would hate every second, she might regret it, but she would do it. 

Who knew that being held at knifepoint could be so… arousing?

He licked his lips in anticipation, because obviously, if Silas Kovac was going to be anything in the face of death, it would be horny. There was no better way to go out, except perhaps with a bang. Not that he thought for a second that Blondie would actually go through with it, but--- on the off chance that she did have the metaphorical testicles to carve him up like a Christmas turkey, well.

Hot.

His body was practically vibrating as she pressed the blade so far into his neck that he could both feel and hear his erratic pulse thrum against it. His wolfish urges were beginning to make themselves known. Silas realized this when the need to fornicate the leg that had accidentally brushed against him grew stronger.

Fortunately, kitten’s voice snapped him out of it. He snickered slightly, which sounded odd in his wolf form; like a strangled snarl. It was exceedingly difficult to communicate as a giant animal, he realized.

Silas settled on giving her a look that said, obviously. Because, well, it wasn’t like he was here to look at the decor. Not that the mud stains weren’t lovely. And the termites crawling under the floorboards certainly added... character.

Truthfully, the filth didn’t bother him; not in the slightest. He definitely wasn’t thinking about coming back here in the morning with some latex gloves, a toothbrush, and about five gallons of cleaning products.

Well, it might have crossed his mind, but—

There were more important things to consider (even though the cobwebs in the upper right hand corner of the shed were making his eye twitch), such as kitten telling him to leave.

He was in the midst of growling in protest, when a crinkly voice came in from her walkie: Melissa? Come in. I think you can go on home. It was a woman’s voice; though, he wasn’t sure who she was to Melissa or why she was instructing her to go home. Was she her mother? A distant relative? An older lesbian lover? The latter spurred a rather explicit series of images that brought about a smirk.

He didn’t really have time to dwell on the sapphic imagery, however, as Melissa (the name just rolled off of the tongue so easily) warned that her friend on the walkie was going to kill him.

“And I will help,” she added. He raised a skeptical brow at that, not at all convinced that she had it in her.

Nevertheless, he couldn’t be sure that her hunter friend on the other line wouldn’t bring in backup, in which case— his sense of self-preservation just barely edged out his hubris. He stepped away from her knife, holding eye contact with Melissa a moment longer, before turning to leave. He paused in front of the threshold, glancing at the dust coating the ground. An idea formulated in his head. He began to quickly draw the words with his paw, only stopping when he heard a twig snap near the shed.

He glanced over his shoulder one last time with a devious grin before disappearing into the night (though, not very far as he had every intention of following her home).

C'était un plaisir de vous rencontrer, Melissa. Until we meet again.

[silas-kovac]

melcoopers​:

Whatever was out there allowed her to make it into her safe haven and slam the door. Which meant one of two things. Either they were just slow or they were playing with her. Melissa dove for her gun, giving it a death grip and pressing herself up against the far side of the shed, her book light still shining and making her shadow stretch behind her. The adrenaline coursing through the body of the reluctant hunter was making her shake, her heart pound beneath her chest in an unsteady and anxious rhythm.

Assuming something would slam through the door, she readied her gun. Anything stepping foot through would be getting a bullet, point blank. When seconds ticked by and nothing did, Melissa had time to think.

Now she knew they were playing with their food. Teasing her like this was fun. Melissa was sure it was a wolf too, the way the footsteps padded softly against the pine and branches that carpeted the ground. The shadow of a tail passing by the slit was a dead giveaway too. Fluffy. A feral wolf would have pounced, this one had a plan.

Gears were turning in Melissa’s head and she started to second guess the gun. Could she really shoot someone dead? Someone that was somebody’s child or maybe they had children. They weren’t feral, she could reason with them. Werewolves never felt as awful to Melissa as vampires anyway, at least werewolves still had their souls. The Coopers saw it as a disease, the wolves couldn’t help it, but according to her mother they still needed to be put down. There was a slight bump against the shed that interrupted her thoughts and a sound that she wanted to compare to laughter, but sounded too canine.

They were fucking with her! Melissa rolled her eyes, annoyed at this point, her arms still aimed at the door and on her trigger. She made the decision, she had better aim with her knives anyways. The gun was traded for a throwing knife.

A voice scratched at the back of her head, sounding like a mixture of her mother and herself, but colder. You’re a coward. You don’t have the guts to protect your mother, yourself or anyone. You’re not doing enough for your people, for the greater good. Melissa swallowed the voice down, morphing it into a sinking feeling in her gut.

The annoyance and frustration grew, Melissa’s brow furrowed and she snarled out, “Just do it, you dick!” right as a wolf crashed through the door.

Her first wolf. Ever. It was almost a special occasion. Bigger than she thought they’d be, but maybe it was the small size of the shed that made this one look so imposing. Black, with shining orange eyes that glinted in the light emanating from her book. Kind of beautiful, certainly striking.

On instinct, Melissa threw, purposefully aiming for the shoulder this time and hitting her mark. The knife on deck found its place in her right hand, but she had no time to throw it before the wolf had a chance to move.  

It wasn’t the first time a woman had thrown a knife at him; Silas suspected it wouldn’t be the last, either.  

He was more than into it.

The blade, which was now embedded just below his left shoulder, probably should have hurt more than it did, but--- he had long since built a tolerance to silver and anything else that could weaken him; which Silas supposed, oddly enough, he had his father’s unyielding psychopathy to thank.

He could have laughed at the thought, because really, how fucked was that?

Bet that head case that Charlie had tried to set him up with would probably be having a fucking field day, if she could take a gander inside his brain right now. Nothing got a shrink off more than daddy issues and childhood trauma. Fact. That shit was like an aphrodisiac to them.

He pursed his lips. What did it for kitten, he wondered?

Silas stared intently at her, still cowering in the corner of the shed with her claws out and her brow pinched in determination (it was the cutest fucking thing he had ever seen). He nearly expected her to hiss at him as he moved in. Or, at the very least, try to scratch his eyes out. Not exactly the place he wanted her to scratch him, but---

His eyes did some raking of their own, committing every last inch of her to his memory. 

He wondered if a boyfriend had given her the pearl ring that was wrapped around her delicate finger (had this hypothetical beau also told her that the world was her oyster or something as equally saccharine when he had presented it to her?). 

There was something incredibly annoying about that thought, but he let it go. For now.

By the time she raised her arm to fire off another knife, he was far too close. She would have to either stab him or flee (and he was secretly hoping for the former). He reached down to remove her first blade with his teeth, barely wincing as it came out. He tossed the bloody blade at her feet, his eyes boring into hers, silently waiting for kitten to make her move.

[silas-kovac]

melcoopers​:

The snap of one of the traps Melissa had set out - there wasn’t many. The more she set out, the more she’d have to pack in when the useless night was over - violently pulled her from the book she had sunk herself in. Wispy blonde hair whipped around, strands hitting her cheek as she stared out of the slit in the hunters shed, eyes narrowing. The trap that had been set off was not in view though and she decided she was looking at nothing.

In an attempt to slow down the pattering of her heart, she tried to convince herself the trap was set off by a rabbit, which wasn’t much better than it being set off by a wolf. Another innocent caught in the crossfire. Eyes flickered over to the walkie that she knew held her mother on the other end. Melissa pointedly ignored it, standing up and grabbing the silvered knives that weren’t already on her person - just in case, but ultimately she wasn’t too worried about what was probably a small animal. She even left the gun her mother gave her.

Lauren Cooper didn’t need to be involved in this if she didn’t have to. If her mother came over from where she had set up, all she would care about is the amount of traps Melissa set up and the small light that was still shining from the inside of the shed, holding her place in her book. Melissa could already hear the lecture about responsibility and taking their hunting seriously. It’s not a game, honeybee. Melissa knew it wasn’t a game and she dreaded the day that she’d actually encounter someone and have to do something about it.

The door of the shed creaked open, making Melissa wince at the noise. They really needed to step their game up, if her mother wanted her to take this so seriously. The door opened to…nothing. Melissa peaked her head out, cold blue eyes looking around the forest skeptically as she stepped out, a knife in both hands. After she was a few feet away from the shed, she saw it.

The soft whistle of the wind only increased the tension when Melissa’s eyes fell onto where a tree branch was crushed beneath the cold metal of the trap. Obviously placed there. 

“This wasn’t a feral wolf,” she murmured. Her eyes were cold and appraising as she glared into the darkness, wondering how fast she could get to her walkie or her gun. “Fuck.” Instead she lifted her right arm and threw her knife before turning back to the shed.

Blonde hair. Blue eyes. A tight little body. Young enough to be his daughter (stepdaughter, his mind corrected, as his eyes continued to rake over her figure ravenously).

So not what Silas had been expecting. He licked his chops as she turned around nervously, giving him the best view he’d seen since the Cinque Terre. Italy was great and all, but you couldn’t exactly fuck it, could you? You could get fucked in it, sure --- hell, he’d probably made love (and perhaps a few bastard children) to the entire Italian Riviera by the end of that trip – but he had yet to successfully screw an entire country.

Sounded like a challenge. He loved challenges.

His glowing eyes were trained on the young huntress as she held the knife in front of her, hand visibly trembling. It was adorable; like a kitten pretending to be a lion. Which begged the question: where was the real lioness? Kitty was cute and all - with those big doe eyes and scrappy little claws - but there was no chance in hell she was out here fighting the good fight alone; not when there was a big bad wolf on the prowl.

She was only the appetizer. The main course had yet to arrive.

His mouth still watered, nonetheless. Even more so as that delicious obscenity slipped from those sweet lips. Fuck. Silas briefly envisaged what else he could possibly do to elicit that word again. A few ideas came to mind, most involving a bed and her on top of him.

A particularly cool breeze swept past her, rustling the leaves and the trees around them ominously, though it did not carry with it her scent. Unfortunate. One more blank for his (rather overactive) imagination to fill in --- strawberries and nubility were the first things to come to mind. And that led to him wondering how she might taste, which lead to---

Kitten throwing a fucking knife right by his fucking head. 

Well then. Somebody was cutting right to the chase (pun very much intended). His fangs once again pulled back into a smile. It certainly wouldn’t do to have her hiding out in that bloody shack all night, would it? No, that wouldn’t be much fun for either of them.

Silas prowled towards the entrance, ears perking up to catch those soft little gasps that were coming from inside the shack. They were driving him absolutely mad. 

But it was too soon. He had to allow her to marinate in her fear just a while longer. What was a dramatic entrance, after all, without the suspense? There was an order to things. Beginning, middle, end. 

A few more tricks first: the crunching of leaves, fleeting shadows, a few bumps in the night, and then---

Like the big bad wolf that he was, he blew that fucking door down.

[melcoopers]

full moon watch

It had been four months since Melissa had been on full moon watch with her mother. There were always workable excuses, ones that her mother had accepted with only narrowing of her eyes and a curt nod - illnesses, working late at the shop, periods. Can’t watch out for feral wolves if they could smell your blood from a mile away. Any excuse Melissa had this time around turned to ash on her tongue when her mom shoved a duffel bag into her arms and lowered an icy look that made her feel as small as she did when she was six years old.

It was a certainty to Melissa, that no werewolves were going to pass by the makeshift hunting shed that her and her mother set up together. The one she was currently settled in, arms crossed sullenly over her chest as she tried to stay alert and pay attention to her surroundings. No wolves ever had. Her mother had gotten one feral wolf, once, a year ago and since then the woman insisted on the monthly vigil. Melissa tried to be supportive, especially since her mother was the bastion of hunting knowledge in the young blonde’s eyes, but full moon watch only seemed to be a fools errand.

After three hours of watching the shadows of the forest, a frown etched deep on her face that deepened with any flicker of movement, Melissa gave up. She brought a book just for this occasion - Howl’s Moving Castle. A book full of magic that made her feel just a bit more connected to the supernatural world she was supposed to despise. She clipped a small book light to the back cover and Melissa made herself comfortable, sinking herself into the fantasy world, becoming less and less aware of her surroundings as she did.

@silas-kovac​

[silas-kovac]

Full moon tonight.

There was no need to consult with the sky, he already knew what was coming. He’d felt the tension all week. It had been building like a Tchaikovsky composition, quiet at first and then… the crescendo. You couldn’t rush the process of a full moon. It was like a blow job in that way; there was an art to it. Too much teeth with too little sucking and well----

You end up with a flaccid dick. And a few unwanted doctors’ bills.

Silas shouldered his bag and smirked at the sight of his brother unloading the restraints from the bed of his truck. It was sad really, the depths some people would sink to to deny their true nature. Pathetic, actually.

Silas Kovak didn’t do chains (not outside of the bedroom, anyway).

That was the first step to getting neutered. The second step was becoming somebody’s house pet. Though, he feared his dear brother was already halfway there; soon enough, he would be eating out of a dog bowl and wearing a little collar with his name on it (kinky).

Silas was restless by the time the moon finally made an appearance – a big, yellow fuck you in the sky. And fuck him, it would. He could feel his bones beginning to shift as he headed for the mouth of the forest. He was coming down from the tension like a drug and the discomfort was right there, waiting in the wings to take its place. Experience had blunted the pain over the years, so that wasn’t really the problem.

The real conundrum here, was that he hadn’t been laid in at least a week.

It only made all of that pent up, primal energy – which was beginning to rear it’s face in a rather unattractive way – that much more unbearable. He needed a release, and he needed it right fucking now. 

Thankfully, the universe had long since resolved that it would be Silas Kovak’s bitch until the end of time – and somehow, he always seemed to get what he wanted. He fell to his knees as the changes began, gritting his teeth into a smile. Well, if the favor wasn’t going to be carnal, it was certainly going to be violent.

He began to take off at full speed as his wolf emerged.

He didn’t know where he was going – planning really took the spontaneity out of these things  – but he certainly had an idea as to where he would end up before the night was over. He breezed through a particularly thick brush and past a shed that –

Curious. Why was there a shed in the middle of the forest? He came to a skidding halt and whipped his head around, orange eyes narrowing. Something was off; he had definitely never seen that before. He knew this to be a fact, because: a). his memory was fucking pristine and b). unless this thing had just magically sprouted up from the ground in the past two months, there was no way he would have missed it. 

Either there was a new serial killer in town or someone had decided to spring a trap for him. He was sure that his wolf was smiling as he moved in to scope the outside perimeter. He couldn’t smell anyone, which only made it all the more suspect. His heart began to pound in excitement. There were few things he loved more than hunters. Sex, maybe. Sex with a hunter (he could only dream of how delightful that would be). 

He eluded the haphazardly placed bear traps – this hunter was either incredibly inexperienced or incredibly indolent – and silently formulated a lure of his own. He found a fallen tree branch nearby and picked it up with his mouth. He found a spot beside the shed and aimed for the trap that was directly parallel to the door of the shed, hidden beneath a pile of leaves. 

The metal jaw of the trap snapped resoundingly shut. Silas hid within the confines of the shadows and waited.