AN: So, I was watching Grimm, which is my new favorite thing. The season premire, which was based on Little Red Riding Hood, was amazing and inspired this.
So, Blaine is a wolf. Not a werewolf, but a wolf in a human body. It's hard to explain. Anyway, since the episode was based around Little Red Riding Hood, wolves on the show are bloodthirsty in general (unless they make an executive decision to not be and work incredibly hard to keep from killing people) and cannot help themselves when it comes to people in red. (I'm probably going to twist that so it means he can't resist a certain someone sexually instead of in a carnivorus way.)
This first part will probably leave you with questions, but if you just ask whatever you're wondering about I'll be sure to answer. (Alot of stuff will be revealed later on, I promise.)
Anyway, Warnings: dub-con/non-con (It's kinda hard for me to call it outright rape because of the not-of-this-world-reasonings, but I'm warning it as non-con.), violence, D/s elements, what could be considered bloodplay, and the fact that Blaine eats people.
It wasn't his fault.
No, it really wasn't. He just couldn't resist, couldn't force himself away.
It should really count in his favor that he even tried to stop himself; He usually didn't even consider it.
It was just instinctual. He was tempted to from the get-go, but then yesterday...
He was waiting. He was behind the massive oak tree only a few feet back from the trail, breathing silently. It was five fourty-seven.
The boy was running late.
As it is typical, as soon as he thought those words he smelt the boy approaching, and he heard him mere seconds later. He smiled to himself, though he was unsure as to why. He'd spent every Monday through Friday afternoon the past few weeks lurking about, waiting for the boy. He didn't really know why, but there was just something about him, something he couldn't really lay a finger on. He just had to see him, make sure the boy kept coming back to him.
Not that the boy knew he was there. Of course not. He was much to stealthy for anyone to notice him unless he wanted to be noticed.
It had surprised him when he was he happened upon the boy for the first time. He'd been walking along, minding his own bussiness, re-marking his territory with a few slashes to some of his trees. He was about to mark the oak when he'd heard someone coming uo the trail. Normally, he would have just left, since he'd only just eaten the day before, but he was intrigued. The light footsteps and sweet little puffs of breath didn't match the smell of whoever it was, which was covered in grease and corn syrup and all sorts of unidentifiable objects. Then the boy came into view, and he couldn't move.
The boy was gorgeous. He watched as the boy stopped suddenly, taking a cautious look around. He kept perfectly still and undeniably quiet, even as the boy looked right at him. He would swear that their eyes had met through the foliage, for just a minute, before the boy shook his head and ran off.
He had thought about the boy alot since that first day, dreamed about his pretty pale skin and bright blue eyes. He'd pictured the cute little puffs in his breathing as he hurried through the woods.
And he'd gone back to the tree, every day, at exactly five, waiting patiently to see him again. He came every school day, clutching a messenger bag and keeping an eye on the ground to ensure that he didn't trip and ruin whatever ensamble he had on. (Seeing what the boy chose to wear each day was always interesting. He'd started taking bets with himself to guess what kind of shoe or what color he'd wear. He wasn't usually right, but it gave him something to do while he waited.)
Then yesterday. As it's been mentioned, he was waiting patiently, and then the boy came into view.
He hadn't had a choice.
He'd flown out from behind the tree and knocked the boy off the trail and into the bushes on the other side so quickly he didn't even register doing it. He didn't do much for a moment, simply taking in the boy's face up close. He'd knocked the boy out on impact, but he couldn't stop the thoughts of how beautiful he was from running through his mind. He'd shaken the thoughts away, and instead listened carefully for any signs of other people. When he'd clarified that the woods were vacant, he'd stood, growling softly as he threw the boy over his shoulder, heading in the direction of his home.
And that brought him to where he was now, sitting at the edge of a soft, four-poster bed, watching his boy sleep.
It was weird. Ususally, he'd just have thrown whoever he'd caught down here and went back up to the rest of the cottage, locking his victim in for safe-keeping. He'd probably make them something to eat as well, since he might as well get the most out of his eventual meal. But not this time. This time, he was just sitting, and watching, his eyes growing darker the longer he let his eyes sweep over the body lying innocently in front of him. He very slowly, very carefully, picked his hand up, bringing it forward to brush the boy's bangs back from his forhead. He felt his fangs grow at the contact, but willed them away, letting his hand trail along the boy's face so he could feel the skin.
He felt the boy stir lightly, but ignored it, watching his hand as it traveled the path down the boy's body, before coming to rest at the top of one of the bright red knee-high boots the boy wore, those boots which helped seal his fate. He undid the numerous buckles on the boot, carefully sliding it off, before doing the same to it's twin. He rubbed at the boy's calves for a moment, before standing with the boots in hand. He carried the boots the few feet to the closet, pushing aside about twenty red coats and sweaters of various shades, styles, and sizes, to get to the shelf he'd carefully folded and placed the boy's cape-like coat that was a slightly darker red then his boots. He put the boots mext to the coat, one on either side, before shoving the other, somehow less important red articles in front.
He walked back over to the bed, and continued his observing. This was better. Now he didn't feel an overwhelming urge to tear into the boy with claw and fang. He frowned a bit, backing up from the bed.
Now that his head was clear enough to think, he had the odd feeling that he didn't actually want to devour this boy the same way he wanted to the others. Very peculiar.
He raised an eyebrow, leaning down to press a kiss to the boy's neck before he could stop himself. He found himself kept there for a moment, breathing in the boy's scent. He smelled incredibly sweet, as he usually did, but it was so much better when he was so close. He pressed his lips back again, then again, and then several times, his lips gradually opening more and more with each kiss, his breathing getting harder. Withing seconds he was completely covering the boy with his body. licking and biting all over his neck. His fangs grew, and there was blood in his mouth. Sweet, delicious-
He threw himself across the room with all of his will power, slamming painfully into one of the bookshelves that lined the walls. He growled, feeling himself hunch over and his face begin to show its true form. He reached up to cover his nose from the smell of blood, feeling his claws dig into his face as he scrambled to get up the ladder. He flopped down on the floor at the top of the latter, slamming the trap-door closed and throwing a decorative rug over it. He breathed heavily, cursing under his breath. He'd never lost control like that. Yeah, if he'd been over two weeks without a kill, he'd jump the next person in red and devour them without thinking, but it had never been like this; He'd just eaten yesterday.
He slowly picked himself up, grabbing his first aid kit from the kitchen and stalking to his bedroom. He began cleaning the scratches surrounding his nose, grumbling as the damn alchohol in the wipes stung. He flipped on his television, trying to get his mind of the boy in his basement.
"-seventeen year old McKinley High School student, Kurt Hummel, has been reported missing when he didn't come home last night or show up for school this morning-"
His eyes widened. There was no way. He jumped up from his bed, scattering ointments and bandages as he lunged for his iphone, checking the date.
He'd spent all of last night in his basement staring at a boy he was more then likely going to eat. That wasn't something he'd consider normal for his lifestyle.
He sighed, flopping himself down on his bed. God, this kid was screwing with him, and he wasn't even awake.
His ear fidgeted slightly, and he felt an involuntary smrik spread across his face. Scratch that, the boy was awake.
He slowly rose to his feet, stalking over to stand above the rug that hid the door seperating him from the boy. Kurt.
What a fitting name. He listened to the, to Kurt, rustle around for a few minutes, before a steady stream of oh my God, oh my God rose up from beneath the floorboards. He felt his heart stutter at the soft, slightly high voice, before he squashed the feeling. He needed to atleast attempt some sort of control.
After weeks of observing (he refused to acknowledge his behavior as stalking) and what had apparently been hours of the boy being unconcious, it was time to meet Kurt Hummel.
It wasn't like he had any other choice.
AN: See, you probably have some questions now. It should all be revealed, but just ask about anything you want to know, so I can be sure to bring it up at some point.
Anyway, review, and watch Grimm. It's two episodes in but already fantastic. (And the second epidsode with the bears had some oddly erotic scenes.)