Poly Werewolves Vincent & Cricket (complete)

    You look up at the dancers in the room. Their forms are impeccable, and the way their bodies move makes you think of fairies dancing in circles. You glance back down to your art pad, sketching out the scene before you. Your hand is smudged black, and there is a stack of papers by your side of drawings and doodles you’ve done throughout the class.

    Delaynie hired you to design a poster for the upcoming dance recital of Midsummer Night’s Dream. You were eager to do it. You had worked hard all your life on your art, only to wind up teaching at the college. The fact Delaynie had considered you at all was a triumph in your sketchbook.

    As the class ends the students gather around you, eager to see the artwork you’ve created while watching them.

    Delaynie stands beside you as you gather your things. “What do you think?”

    “I think you have an amazing group of students,” you beam at him. “I’ve got lots to work with,” you say as the students start handing you back your paper.

    “I saw your work at the college, and I was floored,” Delaynie replies. “I think your posters will sell. If not, I’ll keep them all.”

    You grin at him and chuckle. “Well if not, this has been an amazing opportunity for me. Not much in the way of art has popped up.”

    Delaynie looks at you sympathetically. “Hence the teaching?”

    “Hence the teaching,” you sigh. 

    One of Delaynie’s instructors laughs as he approaches. “You say that as if it’s a bad thing.” He smiles at you, and you feel like an ice cream cone left in the sun.

     Delaynie pats his back. “This is my main choreographer, Cricket.”

    “Cricket?” You turn and admire him.

    Cricket is tall and very much looks the part of a dancer. His limbs are long and elegant with the right amount of sinew and muscle. His skin has a rosy tone to it that gives him a healthy glow. His hair is tied back in a bun, but a loose curl hangs on his forehead in a perfect corkscrew. 

    Cricket shakes his head. “Old, old, horrible nickname from my rough that I’ve come to claim as a badge of honor.”

    “This kid had the knobbiest knees I’ve ever seen,” Delyanie grins. 

    “Not all of us are born to be big and scary looking,” Cricket smirks. “Some of us were born with weak ankles and knobby knees.” He looks at you then tilts his head to your drawings. “Do you mind?”

    You gasp. “Oh, no, go ahead.” You hand the pad over and watch as Cricket goes through the pages.

    “Cricket has built this production from the ground up,” Delaynie says. “In fact, he’s the one who suggested I go check out your artwork at the college.”

    Your heart skips a beat and jumps up into your throat. “Really?”

    Cricket looks up at you with bright green eyes. “I’m found out,” he laughs. “I’m a fan.”

    You take your sketches back and hope your face isn’t so red it gives you away. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

    Cricket looks up as the doors open, and a set of younger students comes in. “Duty calls,” he winks at you as he walks by.

    “Careful with that one,” Delaynie whispers. “He’ll charm you into free work if you aren’t careful.”

    “Oh?” You gasp.

    Delaynie grins. “How do you think he got a job here with knobby knees?” 

    You head back home. You live on the ground floor of an apartment building that’s close to the school. Most of your neighbors are college students, and for the most part, it’s pretty quiet. The rent is reasonable, and the apartment is more than you need. Although, one room is nothing but all your art supplies. Years of gathering and collecting to be used for great pieces of divine inspiration, all now resting and gathering dust in plastic drawers and boxes.

    You go inside, hoping to rest up, order some takeout, and work on the sketches you made during the dance class. Only thing is, your lights won’t come on. You know you paid your electric, and on further inspection, you find that other appliances come on, just not your lights.

    A quick call to the building manager and a few moments later he arrives at your door. Ever since you moved in, you’ve had something of a crush on the building manager. He was a good looking older man, sharp features, steely blue eyes, and silver hair that was always neatly styled. It didn’t help things that he always smelled amazing. 

    “Thanks for coming up, Vincent,” you sigh as you show him inside.

    “Part of the job,” Vincent smiles and you swoon a little. He checks the light switch a few times and scratches the back of his head. “You’re right; they don’t work.”

    You laugh and shrug. “Everything else does. Why not these?”

    Vincent goes into your kitchen and into the closet where the fuse box is. He clicks things around for a moment then turns back to you, handing you a flashlight. 

    “Mind aiming this for me?” He asks.

    “Oh, sure,” you take it and stand behind him, shining the flashlight on the wall of switches inside. 

    Vincent huffs, stepping back and reaches into his toolbelt. After a few twists and other things, the lights switch on.

    “Oh, wow,” you click off the flashlight and step aside so Vincent and walk out. “Thank you!”

    Vincent takes the flashlight back. “Don’t thank me just yet. I may have to come back and replace that fuse later.” He then looks around. “Anything else that needs work?”

    “Oh uh,” you think for a moment. “No, not really.”

    Vincent nods then turns to the door. “If anything changes let me know.” He turns back and smiles at you. “Have a good evening.”

    You grin at him. “You too.”

    You settle in for the evening, getting your food and then sitting down to sketch and do mockups for the poster. You feel bad not using your art room, but sketching on the sofa while watching TV was a little comfier.

    You wake up late, rubbing your eyes and turning off the TV. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep on the sofa. You yawn and stretch then toss the takeout containers in the garbage. As your starting to turn out the lights, you hear a terrifying noise. Just outside your door you hear snarling and snapping. Loud, dark barks and deep raspy growls. 

    Outside your window, you see two forms in the dark. They’re big and furry and gnashing their teeth at one another. 

    You had heard stories about Hearthway Hollow since you got here, but you didn’t believe them. Your cousin, Mabel, had told you that sometimes the wolves in the woods came out to play, but they were harmless. You were having a hard time believing her.

    You step towards the door as the noise gets louder. You then hear a shout. “It’s the middle of the fucking night!”

    You lurch and jump back, nearly falling over.

    “You two are starting a fight at the fucking door?” The voice bellows. “Get the hell out of here before you wake everyone up with your nonsense!”

    “They already did!” Someone from above shouts.

    “See?” The man snaps. “So what if there’s two of you? Is fighting gonna solve it?”

    “But, Billy you have to-” someone says.

    There’s a snarl and a snapping sound. “Get out of here!”

    There’s hushed murmurs and low whispering, followed by the scurried sounds of feet. You take a few deep breaths and approach the door again. You peer out through the window, seeing the bushes shiver and shake as if something has just barreled through them. You see something lying on your stoop, two things actually. Two deads things.

    You reer back and clutch your chest. Unable to sleep, you sit in your living room staring at the blank TV screen. Once morning comes, there’s a knock on your door. 

    Answering, you’re greeted by Mabel’s husband, Adam. “Sorry to bother,” he says. “Did I wake you?”

    You look him over then down behind him where you see two dead deer. You grimace, and Adam sighs.

    “Let me explain,” he murmurs.

    You learn from Adam that Hearthway Hollow is more than just a cute little mountain town. It’s much more than that. It is actually a safe haven for werewolves and humans alike. Part of what makes it safe is the courting ritual the werewolves must go through when they find a desirable mate. Which, to your shock, two are courting you.

    “Are you sure they meant it for me?” You ask Adam.

    Adam nods. “Very sure,” he chuckles. “Billy had to break them up before they got into a fight.”

    You sit back, feeling so strange. Not one, but two! Never in your life have you had two people fighting over you, let alone one. You weren’t exactly the type people fought over. Or well, so you thought. You’re built like a pear, big thighs and ass. It’s something you were picked on in school, so you’ve never felt too assured about yourself since. But two?

    Adam loads the deer onto his truck, saying he’ll bring you the meat by the end of the day. Stunned a little loopy, you somehow manage to get ready for work and out the door. You give the class free reign for the day. Letting them do whatever art project they wanted while you recuperate from your shock. 

    After your last class, you go back to Delaynie’s dance studio to show him the mock-ups and sit in on another class. When you arrive, Cricket is standing in the entrance, his shirt off and he’s stretching backwards.

You flinch, seeing his hairy and chiseled chest would be enough to make any woman stop dead in her tracks and stare. 

Cricket turns and grins at you. “Welcome back,” he approaches you, and you forget human language for a moment. 

Cricket tilts his head. “Is something wrong?”

You blink a few times before you remember you can talk. “Oh! Uhm-” you chuckle and shake your head. “Sorry, I just didn’t get a good night’s sleep.”

Cricket looks a little shocked, even guilty. He glances away then looks back to you. “Sorry to hear that.”

“Oh,” you gasp and hand him the pad with the mock-ups. “Have a look. I got some work done last night on a few ideas.”

Cricket grins and takes it, going over the few pages with a keen eye. His smile softly fades, and his brow knits together. He flips back and forth before settling on one. 

“Is it ok?” You ask.

Cricket looks up at you, and he nods. “I’m just amazed,” he murmurs. “I like all three. I can’t pick one.” he then smiles. “Maybe we can convince Delaynie to get all three made.”

You laugh. “He warned me you were a charmer.”

Cricket bites his lip. “Well, I try only to use it for good.” He hands your art pad back then leans against the counter of the welcome desk.

You suddenly realize that Cricket is posing. His modeling and showing off. Glancing behind him, you see his shirt on the floor. Had he taken it off when he saw you coming? You look back at Cricket, watching his stomach and then the sexy jut of his hip bones. Cricket wants you to look.

“It’s Delaynie in?” Your voice cracks.

Cricket smirks. “It’s his off day. He’s going with Lenore to her doctor appointments.” He leans towards you. “Would you like to go have coffee?” He asks. 

Your lips part and your heart hammers wildly. “I uhm-” You clear your throat. “If you want to do that, you’ll have to put your shirt on.”

Cricket snickers and drops his head. He places his palm on his chest. “Oh well, I suppose I will.” He goes over and picks his shirt up, slipping it on.

You go and get coffee with him, enjoying his company. He’s bright and warm, and yes, for sure, incredibly charming. He walks you home, making you feel light as a feather. 

As you approach your door, you see the blood stains on the concrete. There’s a hose and a bucket beside the door. Maybe someone is cleaning it up. You stop short of the stains and Cricket tilts his head. 

“I guess this is where I leave you,” he smiles.

You nod, your cheeks on fire and heart thrashing its way through your chest. You instinctively close your eyes and tilt your head up. You then hear the hiss of water and Cricket streaming. Opening your eyes, you see that Vincent is shooting Cricket with the hose.

Vincent lowers the hose down, a smug grin on his face. “Hello there!” He waves.

“What the fu-” Cricket gets sprayed in the face again, and Vincent laughs. “Hey!” Cricket snarls, lunging towards him.

Vincent glares at him and his lip curls over his teeth. “Hey is for horses.”

    You look at the blood stains then at the two men fighting on your porch. It all feels too familiar for you. You run between them, taking the hose from Vincent and then spraying it on the stains.

    “Stop fighting,” you huff. “There’s no reason to it.”

    Cricket clams up and wipes his face. He’s soaking wet and probably freezing. Vincent still looks quite smug. He reaches down, trying to take the hose from you. You huff and aim the water at his pants, soaking his crotch.

    “If you two are going to fight over a girl be mature about it!” You snap. 

    Cricket snickers and you spray him again.

    “If you want me, you’re going to have to talk to me.” You toss down the hose. “Now come inside,” you huff. “I’ll dry your clothes for you,” you grumble under your breath as your storm inside. 

    You give Cricket your robe and Vincent a towel to wrap around himself while you toss their soaked clothes into the dryer. The three of you sit in silence. It doesn’t dawn on you for a moment that two men are sitting half-naked in your living room. Your throat grows tight, and your cheeks burn like you’ve shoved your face into coals.

    It’s not just two good looking, half naked men. It’s two men you really like and enjoy their company. It’s two men who are werewolves, and both want you. You realize you’re sitting smack dab in the middle of a very tacky romance novel. All you need is a bodice and heaving breasts, whatever that means. 

    Vincent clears his throat and leans forward. “Ok, so,” he starts. “You’ve obviously figured us out.”

    “I woke up to monsters fighting on my front porch and come home to children fighting on my front porch,” you scoff. “Any idiot could figure it out.”

    Cricket glances at Vincent with a snarl then looks at you with a tender expression. “So uhm...what do you think?”

    “What do I think?” You scoff. “I’m confused. I’m baffled. I’m flattered, to say the least.” You then take a deep breath and sigh. “I don’t know what to say. This situation is just weird.”

    Vincent leans forward a bit. “Yeah. It is.” he then huffs and rubs the back of his neck. “I knew I should have done something when you first moved in. I just...being new here and all I didn’t want to scare you off.”

    Cricket frowns at him then looks at the ground.

    “It’s not uncommon for two wolves to fall for the same person,” Vincent continues. “It happens often. Hell, my nephew, Colin has two mates,” he then scoffs. “The point is, the kid here and I shouldn’t fight.”

    “Kid?” Cricket grimaces.

    You fiddle with your fingers then glance back at the two of them. “If you can play nice, I’d very much prefer that.”

    The two of them glance at one another. You can tell there is still animosity there, but they have to agree. Both of them don’t want to hurt your feelings, so they know it’s best to play fair.

    “What about you?” Vincent turns his blue eyes back to you. “What is it you want?”

    You fidget in place, pinching your thighs together. “I want what any girl wants,” you mutter. 

    The dryer buzzes loudly, knocking your senses back in line. “That’s your clothes,” you say, standing up. You go and fetch their things, but when you get back, you’re shocked to find both of them standing naked before you.

    You drop their clothes on the ground, your mouth wide open as you gape at them.

    “That’s a good look,” Vincent swipes his thumb along your dropped, bottom lip. 

    “It is cute,” Cricket smirks.

    You swallow and try to remember to breathe. “Just what-what...what is this?” You sputter as you try to collect your thoughts.

    Vincent bends down, pressing a long, hard kiss to your lips. His stubble rubs against you, making your skin feel raw. But you kind of enjoy the feeling. Cricket’s lips drag down your neck, and his hot tongue swirls on your skin.

    You whimper softly, meeting their kisses and melting at their touch. You lead them to your bedroom. Your head is filled with white noise and fog. You know you shouldn’t be this eager, but damn if you can’t hold yourself back.

    You’re pressed into the bed like a daisy flanked on either side by a man shifting into a werewolf. Vincent is dark grey and soft. His blue eyes are as piercing as ever. Cricket is dark brown and red and very shaggy. They both lick and kiss, stripping away your clothes. Their paws rubs down your bare skin, their rough, hot tongues tease you and torment you.

    You can’t explain the sensation. It’s overwhelming and pampering at the same time. They’re both competing to see who can make you the weakest and tremble more. They’re fighting over who can elicit the biggest sighs. Jokes on them, neither one of them is winning, you are. 

    They're touching your thighs and stroking them. You watch as they cast snarling looks at one another. Vincent wins, taking his place between your thighs first. Cricket snuggles up to you, kissing you and touching your chest.

    You cast your eyes down, seeing Vincent stroking his cock, giving you a show. “I wasn’t planning on this tonight,” he moans. He then takes hold of your hips and starts rubbing himself along your folds.

    You whimper, biting your lip. 

    “Never?” Cricket snarls. “You never planned on this?”

    Vincent laughs. “Many times. Just not tonight.” He pants and licks his chops. His tip slips inside, and you bite back and moan. He’s thick and stretches you. “I’ve dreamed of being between these plump thighs many a night.”

    Cricket kisses you, turning your attention away from Vincent who is easing deeper inside you. You moan into his mouth and cling to Cricket as Vincent fills you. His cock is hot, and you can feel him in your belly.

    Vincent snarls, grinding himself inside you for a moment before pulling out and popping back inside.  Cricket reaches down, the pad of his finger pressing between your plump folds to find your clit. He taps it and rubs it, giving Vincent a dirty look. 

Your back arches off the bed and you pant. You grip onto Cricket’s thigh and writhe there on the bed. Vincent is deep inside you, his thick cock rubbing against your sweet spot. Meanwhile, Cricket has found the perfect rhythm to stroke your clit. It’s almost too much. 

You gasp and shiver, nearly levitating off the bed with their combined efforts. Your legs kick and twitch and you flop over on the bed. You giggle and squeal as Vincent still moves inside you. He grunts and snarls and his breath starts to pitch. You squeeze around him, and in a moment you feel him surge inside you. He grunts and ruts, huffing and puffing as he pulls out. 

You feel his seed slowly dribble out. Vincent flops down beside you as Cricket rises to the occasion. He slips between your thighs, watching as Vincent lays his head on your chest. You kiss Vincent softly, cooing to him as Cricket starts to rubs against you.

Each rub is an electric jolt through your body. You’ve always been sensitive, but this is crazy. You gasp and shudder, your toes curling each time Cricket touches you.

“You just had to leave a mess, didn’t you old man?” Cricket laughs.

Vincent smirks. “Oh don’t complain.”

Cricket looks into your eyes then. “Is it ok?” He whispers.

You bite your lip and nod. “Yeah,” you puff. “Please.”

Cricket chuckles and he guides himself into place. He’s not quite as thick as Vincent, but his length was nothing to shake your finger at. He’s deep inside you, making you shudder as he starts to move. He presses deeper, making your back arch a little.

You can hear the wet sound of him moving, thanks to having cum once already and Vincent’s own release. Cricket snarls, gripping hold of your hips as he starts to move faster inside you. 

Vincent touches your breasts, placing his lips to them, kissing and nibbling as Cricket shakes you. You gasp and moan, stopping Vincent from touching your clit.

“Sensitive?” Vincent chuckles.

“You have no idea,” you mewl as you stretch out.

Cricket licks his lips and bends over, kissing you as he rolls his hips. Vincent snarls and smacks Cricket’s ass. The young wolf yelps and moans. Another sound clap to his rear and you gasp. Cricket’s knot starts to make it’s way inside. It’s thick and hard, stretching you more than Vincent did. You whimper, and with another sound smack to Cricket’s ass, he’s firmly locked in place inside you.

“Oh, shit-” Cricket moans. His movements are limited now, but he grinds inside you, rubbing your sensitive spot until you start to levitate again.

Vincent chuckles, kissing you as you cry out. His sharp teeth dig into your shoulder. Cricket starts to tremble. His hips buck, and his groans sound deep and angry. You feel the rush of heat and lightening, and you dig your fingers into Cricket’s back.

A moment later, you’re at the bottom of a heap. Both Vincent and Cricket are laid on top of you snoozing. You sit up, looking at them both. Vincent has such a severe look on his face, even though he’s sleeping. Cricket is drooling, and his leg kicks. You sigh, managing to slip off the bed and go into the kitchen.

Standing naked before the fridge you start eating from a takeout carton. A moment later, you feel something warm press against your back. 

“Why’d you get up.” Cricket growls into your ear.

Vincent kisses your neck and cheek, and you smirk, “I was hungry.” You tell them, turning around to offer them a bite. “I got dick instead of dinner.”

“We’ll let you eat next time,” Vincent smirks.

You sit down with them, enjoying the cold leftovers and idle chit-chat. Cricket yawns, still not quite awake.

“I have one request,” cricket murmurs. “For next time.”

“You can go first, and I don’t give a shit,” Vincent huffs, poking at chowmein with a fork. 

“No, not that,” Cricket scoffs. “I’d like you to call me by my name in bed too,” he admits shyly. 

“Oh,” you gasp. “Yeah. Of course. What is it?”

Cricket looks a little shy, but he huffs. “My name is...well, it’s Vincent too.”

You can’t help but snort, and Vincent shakes his head, grumbling something under his breath.

“You’re both...you’re both named Vincent?” You gasp. “You...you have to be joking?”

“I wish I was,” Cricket mutters. “You know what, just keep calling me Cricket. I dunno what I was thinking.”

The three of you laugh and giggle, eventually going back to bed and falling fast asleep in a pile again.