#fear the beast with only one eye

[ozzgin]

More of the yandere monster???? Like their married life, him being such a cutie cutie and the reader is a willing person to his yandere tendencies. Like him physically fighting someone for flirting with her for .01 second and her just being 😍🥰

Alright anon, seeing as this has once again resurfaced, I'll cover a little bit of marital life as per your suggestion. (I'm hoping you're referring to the older sibling monster)

Yandere! Monster Husband x Reader

A little change of plans and the wedding you've been kidnapped for continued without a hitch, except you married the monstrous sibling instead. Made for an awkward celebratory dinner, but no one dared to oppose the Beast.

Content: female reader, monster romance, mildly NSFW, saga of the monster hoe reader continues

[First part]

The next family dinner was quiet. You couldn't help but wonder if your horniness had gone too far, slowly chewing your food and occasionally peeking at the ex-groom with remorseful eyes. Poor guy, you thought. "Well, it's quite convenient, isn't it?" he finally said, breaking the silence. The cutlery sounds paused, and you lifted your gaze again. The man flashed you a radiant smile, which emphasized his handsome features even more. "I mean, we weren't sure we'd ever find a wife for my brother. He has a bit of an attitude, and even monsters are afraid of him. The only marriage attempt-" his speech was interrupted by a grunt, and you turned towards your monstrous boyfriend. The older sibling was frowning, visibly embarrassed. "Oh, I remember!" the mother of the siblings, a halfling herself, suddenly chuckled into her glass, taking a generous sip before continuing: "We'd arranged for a fellow monster to meet him, and the poor soul got so frightened she blended in with the background! Took us two days to find her! She came from a chameleon family, I recall."

Everyone at the table began to laugh and you joined, although with a mild annoyance tinged into your voice. So what, there was no reason for you to be plagued by guilt? You even refused a night escapade with your boyfriend until things "settled", as a way to be respectful towards the cucked party. All for naught. At least now you could be ravaged without further consequences. When the mother in law had pulled you aside hours earlier to make sure you weren't coerced into this arrangement, you had to hold back from crassly confessing you'd slurp her son empty of fluids at any hour of the day. Some things are better left untold.

Unfortunately, one detail couldn't be changed in time: the guest list. As this had been an event meant to strengthen the ties between humans, no one outside of the immediate family graced the venue with their monstrous presence. Many guests were intrigued by the outcome of the affair, terribly curious to see the famed wife-to-be of the gruesome, feared Head of the royal army. Even more so once they discovered it was a regular human by all means. "Fascinating!", the old ladies would occasionally cry out, clutching the plump, expensive pearls adorning their necks. You had to frequently excuse yourself in order to dodge the rather indecent questions regarding your relationship. Except when you did manage to sneak away, one of the younger men of names and titles you never registered would approach you for a dance. "Truly a pitiful matter", they'd whisper much too close to your ear. "You would've made a lovely bride for a fellow human."

"You're unexpectedly calm about this", the prince mentioned to his older brother at some point during the wedding night. "Are you not bothered by all the acquaintances flocking to your bride?" The monster shook his head with a sigh. He hadn't known you for that long yet, but one thing he was certain of: it's not humans he needed to fear.

Indeed, having a wife with a monster kink is particularly challenging when most of the husband's work involves similar creatures. The first months after the marriage were stalked by the insidious doubt that his luck was just that: mere coincidence. Would you have displayed the same interest had he not been the only beast at the table? Would you still pick him in a room full of monsters? Such questions followed him each day, feeding into an ever-growing jealousy.

"What are you doing here!", he exclaimed in despair once he noticed your arrival at his training camp. "You forgot your lunch", you explained, eyebrows raised in confusion. Oh, for fuck's sake. He quickly pulled you away, glaring at the subordinates startled by the commotion. They must've been eyeing (Y/N) like rabid dogs, he thought. Next thing you know, you'll be scooped away by some horned scoundrel. He can't have that.

Initially, the rage-filled, obsession-driven fuck you'd receive almost daily was welcomed with shameless begging. The way your monster husband would pin you down under his claws and thrust into you so hard, you could see its movement in waves across your stomach. The way he'd forcefully spread your legs, hungrily sinking his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs and gnawing your shoulders in delirious need. The tears that sheepishly formed in the corners of your hooded eyes would only incite him more. "Bite onto my hand if you can't take it anymore", he'd coo without stopping. As much as you liked to be left a limp, drooling mess, the soreness grew unbearable. Enough was enough when you found yourself carrying a cushion to sit down on any surface.

"Listen, we need to have a talk." You greeted him solemnly once he returned from his military duties. Oh, no. Absolutely not. The monstrous husband bit his lips in panic, immediately going through a mental list of all his subordinates. Or was it someone in the family that slithered their way into your heart? Is that what it was about, that you'd found a different creature? No matter, you weren't going anywhere. "I don't want to hear about it", he declared dramatically. "I have a bruised cervix!" you shouted in disbelief. "Huh?" He stared at you. "It hurts even when I lay down, man. You have to tone it down. At least for a little while."

Ah. Awkward. You noticed his flinch, and patted the empty seat next to you. "What did you think I was going to say?" The bench groaned under the weight of his gargantuan body. Hands folded in his lap like a punished schoolboy, your husband began to narrate the tale of his seething envy and frenzied passion for you. You must understand, he's never cared for anyone as much. To hell with duty and honor, he would kill his own father if his touch on you lingered one second longer than permitted. "Alright, but you must control yourself a little", you reminded him gently. "Never, my urge to obliterate any threat in my path is insatiable", he concluded with vehemence. "Yes, yes, that I understand. The sex, I mean", you gesticulated. "Of course. My apologies, I got sidetracked."

Somehow, he didn't expect to leave this conversation with a cathartic approval of his possessiveness. "Surely you must be upset by my fanatical behavior", he suggested meekly. "Oh no, it's part of your charm", you reassured him with a smile. "It's just not that sustainable in bed without the occasional break." You pat your stomach to express your misfortune.

Sadly, your monster fucking dreams must adhere to the laws of biology.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x human #terato #teratophillia #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #monster imagine #monster romance #monster husband #monster smut #monster fucker #female reader

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟔 — 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

kinktober day 006 | roommate!natasha x werewolf!reader

despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for.

cont. reader has a cock, (very) rough sex, breeding, creampie

word count. 2063

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Natasha, you can’t stay here during my transformation,” you plead, grasping your roommate’s hand in yours.

The brunette is adamant, looking up at you with a stubbornly steely gaze. “I’m staying, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

You wring your hands in exasperation, somewhere near tearing your hair out in frustration or crying in anger. “You’re not listening to me, Nat. It’s not just the pain. I become a different being altogether, and you just can’t see me like that.”

“I can, and I will,” she stubbornly says, folding her arms over her chest and mistakably pushing her cleavage up, too.

The tips of your ears burn at seeing Natasha so utterly bratty.

You bite your tongue, refusing to argue with Natasha even more. Keeping you safe was one thing, but the real reason to steer Natasha away from you during the full moon was to keep her safe.

Because when you’re in your werewolf form, your true desires get heightened by a thousandfold, and from the way you already feel about Natasha, you’re worried it might implode when it comes to your inner beast.

As the Gods of Fate have it out for you, the full moon comes earlier than expected.

Your first agonized cry comes when Natasha’s still in the shower.

“Y/N!” Natasha calls out your name, once, haphazardly scrambling to wrap a towel around herself and sprint to the room where your cries are coming from.

The sight that greets her is absolutely horrific.

You’re bent over, on the floor of your room, on all fours and spitting out blood. Your back is bent at an inhuman angle, your spine broken.

“......Y/N?” Natasha’s voice shook, rooted to the spot in sheer terror.

You don’t respond. You’re in a state of little awareness, or so it seems, a low grunt of pain and fury escaping from you as your transformation continues. 

Natasha takes in a deep breath and steps into the room.

She wants to reach out, hold your hand, tell you that it’s going to be fine but she knows it’s not. The sounds of excruciating pain, broken bones, and surpassed limits make Natasha weep for you on the inside, knowing that you have to go through this painstaking process every month.

The transformation seems to be slowing down, now. Your human blood is splattered across the walls of your room, but your werewolf form seems to be perfectly healthy. You’re still more human than wolf, though: your muscles had thickened and were iron-hard, and you were taller than before. 

However, your wolfish eyes that survey the room are bloodshot red and absolutely inhuman.

That gaze is a chilling scene, narrowed eyes and steady puffs of air surveying the room. Your slow yet calculated mannerisms are reminiscent of your human form.

Natasha hasn’t quite yet caught your eye,  but when she does, it’s like a predator has found its prey.

Your red eyes are like lit coals and smoking silver, surveying Natasha with every ounce of authority and a near possesiveness.

“Natasha.”

Time stills, and the sound of your haunting voice reverberates around the four walls of your room.

Natasha truly can’t help but let out the tiniest whimper of fear. And perhaps a little something more.

“Y/N,” Natasha says your name again, because it seems to be the only thing capable of falling from her lips, and she swallows harshly at your predatory behaviour. She presses into the wall, one hand clutching the top of her towel, the other finding purchase in the edge of your cupboard. 

When you begin to move closer, Natasha screws her eyes shut, anticipating what was to come. Your presence looms over her, metaphorically and physically, and Natasha waits for her inevitable demise.

The ‘inevitable demise’ never happens.

Instead, Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly to your huge hands gently wrapping around her torso, a sharp nose burying itself into the crook of her neck.

The whine she lets slip is involuntary. Your close proximity undermines her calm composure, regardless of your way, shape, or form. If that was telling of her feelings towards you, Natasha would choose to play oblivious.

You’re supposed to be scary, and Natasha’s supposed to be terrified, but with the way you’re dragging your nose up and down the column of Natasha’s slender neck, inhaling her sweet scent, she hardly considers her heart to be beating steadily.

She’s intoxicated by you, even more so with your unabashed exploration of Natasha’s neck. The redhead might be grasping at straws, but it’s almost like you’re seeking something. Something from Natasha. Comfort, perhaps?

“You’re okay,” the redhead whispers, fingers combing through your fur in comforting motions. She hears something that sounds suspiciously like a purr of satisfaction, so she repeats that motion.

Your head moves from her pale neck to her pretty collarbones and down her cleavage until your nose hits the obstruction of Natasha's towel.

A low rumble of disgruntlement sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. Natasha lets a full-body shudder take its hold of her body, under the vibrations of your low decibels.

Not comfort, then. What was it?

Almost like you could read Natasha’s inner thoughts, your werewolf form decides to say capre diem and let a huge hand slither up the inside of your roommate’s bare thigh.

Natasha squeals and swats your hand away, instinctively, then she catches herself and her eyes go wide. 

Oh. 

The fire that dances in your eyes is nothing short of a human-like mischief, playful and oh so dangerous. The incarnadine flush that adorns Natasha’s cheeks like a flower blossoming in the spring is one that your werewolf greedily soaks up, pulling her body flush against yours.

You can see the moment realization hits Natasha, the moment she realizes your desires are nothing short of sinful. 

“Want,” you enunciate slowly, stately and unyielding. Your eyes are locked onto hers, gleaming. 

Expectant. Possessive. Knowing.

The grasp of your hand on her inner thigh once again has Natasha letting out a breathy moan, one of pleasure and a startling realisation.

It wasn’t comfort. It was sex.

-----

If Natasha knew that werewolves were this fucking astronomical at sex, she would’ve introduced supernatural creatures into her bed a long time ago.

The position she’s in is nothing short of embarrassing, on all fours, grasping at the headboard like it was her lifeline. 

Perhaps it was, truthfully, because with the ferocity of the thrusts of your Herculean-sized werewolf cock into her pussy from behind was worthy of being sent to the afterlife. Not like Natasha would complain, though.

“Oh- mhmmm, n’more, s’too much,” Natasha slurs, her breasts shaking rhythmically with each time your jerk that massive thing into her, velvet walls squeezing tight around your pulsing cock. Her eyes are threatening to roll back, drool already spilling from the sides of her lips, arousal already leaking from her thighs and on to the bed.

You don’t seem to give a damn about the messiness of it, though, and that could perhaps be linked to the scientific nature of more barbaric animals. But Natasha could ponder over animal studies at a later point in time, for now she was being treated like a fuckdoll, and it was midblowingly gratifying.

“All– the way,” you grunt, trying to shove the entirety of your huge cock into Natasha’s pussy, clearly displeased by the fact that you were struggling to be sealed inside the redhead completely and inescapably. 

It shouldn’t have been a problem because she was already so wet, so pliant, so perfect for the taking. You’d make do with what you had, though.

“It’s too big,” Natasha had whined earlier, gasping as your tip stretched her opening out, the biggest thing she’d ever taken in her life. Her grasp on the headboard tightened as you slid in with a cruel impatience, big hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass.

“I’ll… make it fit,” you reply, somewhat slowly, your speech clearly deterred by your transformation into part-animal. The results of it are undeniably effective, nonetheless, the cockiness of your brash words making arousal pool in Natasha’s hips.

You’ve reached a sweet spot of Natasha’s, and her walls clench around your big cock tightly, mewling as you push its head against her sponginess. 

“Right there, please, please, plea-” Natasha is cut off by one of her own moans when you jerk inside her, spurred on by the sheer tightness she’s providing you. 

When you lean down to entrap Natasha in a breeding press, your bigger body engulfing her smaller one, slick and sweat converging in an unholy sacrament, it’s all over for her.

Going weak in the knees, Natasha moans as her arms give out and her front flops into the bed. The results of this lie in the fact that her back becomes beautifully arched, her ass rising towards the ceiling; your wolfish eyes drink the sight in with a lick of your lips, cock twitching at the prospect of all the new angles you’d be able to reach.

An animalistic prowess takes mighty hold over your sentience, triggering a feral craze to wash over your werewolf form, and it takes mere seconds before you ram your cock back inside Natasha’s wrecked cunt with undying fervour.

The warbled sounds the girl lets out beneath goes unheard, muffled by the pillow, but the sheer slickness of her pretty pussy gives a certain confirmation that she was enjoying it as much as you did. 

Not that your werewolf would care much, anyways: What it was chasing was pleasure, seeking relief in the completely sexual sense, a carnal desire to take and to breed and to claim. 

You push yourself in hilt-deep inside Natasha, fully lodged in, skin against skin.

Instinctively, your hands fly to Natasha’s belly. You can feel your cock bulge there, spreading her out, filling her up.

The next series of your thrusts cause Natasha to make noises she’s never made before, her body moving like clay under your touch. 

You pull out and make her sob, then thrust all the way back in with an unbridled strength that leaves Natasha breathless. Then again, and again, until she cums helplessly around your cock, pulsing and throbbing and alight with nerves.

This is not the side of you Natasha’s grown to know and love. There are no gentle smiles, no soft hugs and whispered words of admiration. It’s completely animalistic, entirely pleasure-chasing, undeniably one-sided.

You’re thrusting into her like she’s your personal fuckdoll, bringing her to high after high, but you don’t even seem to register that fact. You’re using her for your pleasure, and it should be wrong, but…

“More! More, please, please, need another,” Natasha sobs into the pillow, every fibre of her body screaming at her to stop but her brain unable to put it into action. She hardly registers what she’s saying, only begging pathetically and dripping endlessly.

“Inside,” you growl, right next to her ear, sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. Natasha babbles her acknowledgement, even more turned on at the prospect of being filled, fuck it, and the orgasm that crashes over the both of you is heaven-like.

Natasha’s scream of your name reverberates for miles to come.

With that, you’re cumming, finally, and the seed that spills out from you is endless. Natasha drools into the pillow as you unload your cum inside her, gripping fistfuls of her ass pressed flush against your hips. 

“Mine,” you hear yourself say. The helplessly, pathetically aroused tone of your voice nearly makes Natasha weep again — she’s rendered a damn werewolf near speechless.

Streams of white fluid spray onto Natasha’s back once you’re done with her cunt. You manhandle her around to face the front, to find her pretty eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool coating her lips.

Your werewolf heaves as you watch as your seed overflows from her pretty pussy and on to her thick thighs. A perfect creampie.

Your werewolf, however, has different plans, feeling your cock stiffen again at the sight of her ruined pussy. 

-----

The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing feeling between your legs.

Shit. Was it my transformation?

You leap out of bed, yanking the covers off—

To reveal a very naked Natasha Romanoff, your best friend and your roommate.

She awakes with a start, blinking at the light, and then wincing as if her body was aching all over.

“.......Nat?” you ask hesitantly, eyes trailing over her marked thighs and tits. “What happened last night?”

“Okay. Don’t panic, but you’re fathering my children.”

finally catching up on fics!! i did spend significantly longer on this fic, so it would be highly appreciated if you could reblog

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

#sytoran's kinktober 2023 #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #marvel smut #natasha romanoff x reader smut #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff smut #wlw smut #gxg smut #natasha x y/n #natasha x reader #bottom natasha romanoff #sub natasha romanoff #top reader #dom reader #x reader

[valeskafics]

"Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Brother's Wife" - Feyd Rautha x Reader

a/n: combined an anon request along with one from @the-shadow-queen02. i wrote this at like 1 in the morning so if it doesn't make sense, idk what to tell you lmao 🩷

Summary: Whatever Rabban has, Feyd can take.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, public fingering lol, cucking, humiliation, heavy breeding kink, lactation kink, p in v sex, inkpie, oral f receiving

Word Count: 2,040

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Dune characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated 🩷

You married Rabban and came to Giedi Prime when you were twenty-three years old. At the time, his younger brother, Feyd-Rautha was barely a man, having just turned eighteen. You found it a bit strange that you were sent to the elder brother, a man nearly fifteen years your senior, when the younger was in fact closer to you in age. But, when you questioned the Reverend Mother about her decision, she merely gave you a condescending smile, stating that all would be revealed in due time. It irked you that she did not trust you enough to let you know her motives, but you did your duty to the sisterhood and married Rabban.

It’s no secret that your marriage to Glossu Rabban Harkonnen is not one of love. However, you have grown somewhat fond of your husband in the time you’ve spent with him. He may be known as “The Beast” to others, but he has never acted in a particularly untoward manner with you. He does not know gentleness or kindness, but surprisingly, he has not raised a hand toward you. Though you suspect that has more to do with his uncle’s commands and his fear of your Bene Gesserit abilities than any good feeling toward you. You have given your husband four strong sons within the five years you have been married to him, which has cemented your place in House Harkonnen. You have gone above and beyond your duty, and you have agreed to bear your husband yet another son once the doctors have cleared your health. You suppose this is why the Baron finds you so valuable - the girl the Bene Gesserit sent to him as a bride for his elder nephew.

Feyd has never seen eye to eye with his uncle regarding the match between you and his brother. As far as Feyd is concerned, you’re far too beautiful to be saddled with Rabban. He has found himself fascinated by you, intrigued ever since the day you set foot on Giedi Prime. He has coveted you, his brother’s wife, done his best to impress you in all he does. Feyd is not a gentle man either, but he knows that unlike his foolish, brutish brother, he could give you pleasure. He knows that you let his brother do as he wishes, let him breed you without giving you anything in return. Feyd knows if he had the chance, he’d prove himself worthier than his brother, not only as a warrior, but as a husband, a lover to you.

Maybe that’s why he relishes in it so much when he forces Rabban to kiss his boot, a wicked smile on his handsome face as he rasps, “You humiliated our family. You humiliated me. Kiss or die.”

The mighty Beast Glossu Rabban is humbled as he presses a kiss to his younger brother’s boot. And you? When Feyd looks at you, approaching you with that predatory, graceful gait of his, you seem completely unperturbed. Unbothered. Unafraid.

He begins to circle you and you speak, that honeyed voice of yours that has always seduced him so effortlessly doing so once again, “You humiliated my husband.”

Feyd’s lips curl into a smirk as he stops in front of you, staring down at you, his intense gaze burning through you, “I did. And I would do it again. He barely put up a fight. Some ‘beast’.”

You let out a hum, gazing up at him through your lashes, making his breath catch in his throat as you take a step closer, “So, na-Baron Glossu Rabban Harkonnen is deposed. What becomes of his na-Baroness?”

Feyd’s smirk widens as you move closer, your chest brushing against his own, “A very good question. What do I do with you?”

“I suppose you could banish me alongside Rabban,” you reply, “Me and the boys. Send us into exile. Or even annul the marriage and have me sent back to the Bene Gesserit. Raise my boys as your subordinates.”

“I could,” he nods, moving to grip your upper arms in his hands, his grasp on you firm, as if you could slip away from him at any given moment, “Or I could keep you here. With me.”

“I won’t be your concubine,” you inform him coolly, meeting his gaze. It’s one thing Feyd has always admired about you. Your ability to speak back to him, keep him on his toes, put him back in his place, “If you want me, you will make me your na-Baroness. I am one of the most powerful Bene Gesserit in existence and I will not be reduced to a bedwarmer.”

Feyd chuckles darkly, tugging you even closer to him, no space between you, your faces so close together his breath mixes with yours, so close that you cannot tell where he ends and you begin, “I will take you. I will show you what it truly is to be pleasured by a man. And you’ll bear me just as many heirs as you bore my brother. Our firstborn will be my successor, but I will make sure your and Rabban’s boys are taken care of as well.”

You mull over it for a moment before nodding, brushing the back of your hand against his cheek, smirking to yourself as he leans in, chasing after the softness of your touch, “Very well, na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. I accept your terms.”

The ceremony is far grander than the one you had with Rabban. Your sons, one of whom has not even been weaned yet, sit in the front row, your eldest holding your youngest. Their father sits beside them along with the Baron. The Baron, much to your surprise, seems pleased with how this has all played out. More minds for him to mold, you suppose. And your Reverend Mother? Well, just before the ceremony, she came to you to inform you of your purpose. That all this time, everything was meant to prepare you for your union with Feyd. That it is in your womb his seed will quicken and the Kwisatz Haderach will be born. It is a terrifying yet exhilarating thought, knowing so much rests on your shoulders.

The tradition of the hunt is foregone, as is the bloodletting due to the delivery of your recent child. Instead, you are taken to the chambers you once shared with Rabban, but will now share with his brother. You entrust your boys to your maid, who takes them from you so that you may perform your marital duty, a smug smile on both the Reverend Mother and the Baron’s faces as Feyd practically drags you down the corridor. He pulls you into a harsh, almost violent kiss, one that you return. You bite down on his lower lip, smirking to yourself at the moan he lets out, his fingers digging into the meat of your thighs as he hikes one of your legs around his hip. Feyd pins you against the wall behind you, his fingers snaking their way between your thighs.

“Did my brother ever get you this wet?” He rasps, his breath hot against your ear. He glances back at his brother who stands at the end of the hall, “I don’t understand how you managed to fail such a simple task as pleasuring a beautiful woman, brother. You truly are pathetic.”

You let out a moan of his name as he pushes two fingers inside you, in plain view of the wedding party. Public displays such as this are not rare on Giedi Prime, but it has never been an activity you took part in until now. And something thrills you about the thought of your former husband watching his little brother pumping his fingers in and out of you, eliciting noises from you, making your face twist in pleasure in ways Rabban never could dream of doing. He looks angered, humiliated, just as Feyd wants him. You were always meant to be Feyd’s, after all.

You’re surprised when Feyd, bringing his fingers to his lips after making you peak in order to taste your arousal, his eyes fluttering shut with pleasure, demands, “Rabban will bear witness as my wife and I consummate this marriage.”

That smug smile on his face as Rabban is forced to follow you into the chambers that once belonged to him… The possessiveness in Feyd’s eyes as he rips your bridal gown from your body, his gaze taking in every bare inch of you… You don’t think you’ve ever felt so desired, or so aroused, in all your life. Rabban was far from being the first man you took to your bed, but with the way Feyd’s touch moves along your curves, squeezing every inch of flesh he can grab, pinning you down to the bed? You think you’ll be quite satisfied only having him from now on. Feyd’s teeth sink down onto the junction between your neck and shoulder, making you groan, your nails dragging along his back, marring his alabaster skin. Your legs wrap around his hips as he pushes inside you, his cock long and thick, filling you up in a way that has your eyes rolling back, your toes curling…

Feyd speaks, just loud enough for your former husband to hear, “Your breasts are so swollen, so heavy from the child you’ve just borne my brother, sweet wife. Soon, they’ll be heavy once more for me. For my heir. But let me grant you some relief for now.”

His lips wrap around one of your sensitive nipples as he continues snapping his hips against yours. You listen to the lewd suckling noises he makes, a smirk on your face as you see how angry Rabban looks at the sight. Feyd’s eyes are locked on yours as your sweet milk hits his tongue, making him groan with pleasure, moving to your other breast once the flow has slowed. You caress his face, urging him on as he ruts against you, his thumb moving to draw circles against your pearl.

And even once he’s peaked, spilled himself inside you, his inky black seed dripping from between your thighs, he is nowhere near finished. He pushes whatever has leaked out back in with a devious smirk, eager to make sure his seed has taken, continuing his ministrations against your swollen button until you cry out his name, your climax overtaking you once more. But Feyd wants more. He is a greedy man, and now? He wants to taste you. He grabs your legs, tossing them over his shoulders and begins to devour your sensitive core, making sloppy, wet slurping noises all for Rabban’s benefit, the man looking equal parts astonished and offended at what he is bearing witness to.

Feyd nestles his nose against your pearl, moving his face side to side, his tongue making you feel like your entire body is on fire as you quiver and moan against him, his cock growing hard once more from the mere taste of you, the sounds you let out, the expression on your face. Your arousal mixed with his soaks his tongue and he laps up every bit of it, only to turn you on your stomach, facing Rabban. Feyd grabs your hips, his cock filling your cunt once more, fucking you even deeper at this new angle, grabbing you by the hair and moving you to face Rabban.

“Tell my brother whose cock it is that’s making you squeal like a whore,” he snarls, his free hand palming at one of your breasts as he continues moving in and out of you.

“You, my Baron,” you moan, reveling in the pleasure he gives you and the discomfort on Rabban’s face, “Oh, Feyd, my God…”

“That’s right,” he hisses, his hips stuttering against yours as your walls squeeze around you, “Fucking take it. My sweet little wife. Let me fill you with my seed once more.”

He keeps his promise. He breeds you over and over and over, making sure his brother remains all the while, forcing him to watch as he lays claim to not only his title, but his wife.

Anything Rabban has, Feyd can take. Especially you, his sweet na-Baroness who was all too glad to be stolen away.

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune x reader #dune x you #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #my writing

[lucyrose191]

TAME THE WOLFF| T.WOLFF

Pairing; Angry!Toto Wolff x Calm!Wife!reader

Summary; A few scenarios in which Toto is angry and frustrated and you’re there to calm him down and save his poor team from his wrath

Warnings; angry Toto.

F1 Master List

It was no secret that during a race weekend Toto could get a little….frustrated.

Okay, frustrated was putting it way too lightly, the man got way too passionate about his work and when things didn’t go the way they’re supposed to it was like a volcano was erupting in his mind and he just loses all sense of control leading him to his famous actions of smashing headphones.

The Austrian was already intimidating enough with his tall stature and the confidence he eluded but when he was angry he wasn’t just intimidating, he was scary.

The way his dark eyes seemed to turn almost entirely black and how the veins in his forehead throbbed were signs that had the Mercedes team shifting in their seats and the moment he started running his hands down his face was the moment the higher people in the team would get their phones out and call for help.

That help being you.

It had taken a long time for the team to acknowledge the effect you had on their team principle because he never got angry when you attended races but it was when you arrived to races later in the day that they started to see how things changed.

It was one particular day when Toto had arrived to the track already a bit frustrated, whether that was because of your absence or not they didn’t know but the pile up of disastrous events had lead to the team principle throwing things and shouting at the top of his lungs.

Then you arrived.

You certainly hadn’t expected to walk into the garage and be greeted by your husband in a fit of rage and the entire team stood frozen like petrified animals but the sight of fear on their faces had upset you greatly, especially knowing that it was because of Toto’s, quite frankly unnecessary, tantrum.

You walked over to your husband, who hadn’t even noticed you amidst his anger, and gently placed your hand on his arm.

Any member of the team would’ve called you crazy in that moment, walking over to the beast of a man with no fear on your face when he could have easily turned around and launched you across the room without even thinking.

He had been ready to throw a fist at the person who had the gall to touch him before he saw that it was you, his beloved wife looking at him with nothing but love in your eyes even as he was acting like a brute.

The team had never seen him change personalities so quickly in that moment.

You didn’t say anything to him, instead you placed your other hand on his back and guided him away from everyone, you wouldn’t have been able to move him by yourself but he allowed you to guide him away with absolutely no argument.

You opened the door of his makeshift office, saying nothing as he strode straight past you without a glance, steam practically spilling from his ears, you could feel the anger radiating off of him.

Apart from his unsettled shuffling the room was filled with an intense silence as you shut the door, simply watching as his chest rose and fell harshly, you could see that he was trying to calm himself down now that he was in your presence but he was struggling to do so and that was only frustrating him further.

"Sit down," you gently instructed him, nodding towards the small sofa pushed up against the wall of the small room.

He wanted to argue but he stopped himself and did as he was told, sitting down on the sofa he buried his face into his hands.

You walked over to him and wrapped your arms around the back of his head, allowing him to lean into your stomach, you ran your hands through his hair.

"I understand you’re stressed and that things aren’t going the way you want them too but the way you’re shouting is unfair to the team, they are not your verbal punching bag but you’re treating them as they are."

Toto closed his eyes, releasing a heavy sigh, he wrapped his arms around your body to bring you closer.

He knew you were right, you always were and that’s what he loved about you, how you were always there to talk some sense into him.

He didn’t say anything though, he just held you firmly but gently and used your presence to calm him down.

There were many things he needed to be doing right now but he couldn’t find himself to care, right now the most important thing was calming down and spending time with you, no matter how long that took.

When the Mercedes team heard the door to their boss’ office unlock and saw the man himself walk out completely calm with you following shortly after, they were beyond amazed.

It was that day that the members of the team who had your number put you on speed dial in preparation for when an incident like this happened again, which it no doubt would.

"It seems that Toto Wolff is beginning to get a little bit frustrated down in the Mercedes garage."

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the unnecessary commentary that wasn’t helping in the slightest.

Your husband was getting agitated and the nearby team members were nervously glancing in his direction as though they were mentally preparing themselves for him to blow his top.

Instead of waiting for Toto to lose it, you stood behind him and loosely wrapped your arms around him, thumbing at the collar of his shirt.

Everyone around could see the tension immediately release from his body just from your comforting touch.

Toto grabbed one of your hands with his own, stroking his thumb back and forth across your skin, using the motion as a way to ground himself.

The whole garage went silent at the sight of both of their cars spinning off the track in turn 1. What once was going to be a promising race from starting second and third has turned into a disaster in such a short amount of time.

Everyone was utterly speechless as the entire team just sat there staring at their monitors in shock.

But then they actually acknowledged that it was silent and all simultaneously turned towards their boss with confused stares only to see you blocking him from the cameras that were pointing into the garage, leaning down and whispering, what they could only guess were calming, words to him.

Whilst the cameras couldn’t see his face, the team could and they could tell he was, rightfully so, furious as the situation, he wasn’t shouting or throwing things.

He definitely wanted to but he wasn’t.

You weren’t really in the mood to be in the garage today surrounded by so much noise to the point you could barely hear yourself think and the smell of fuel so strong it made you nauseous but you still wanted to support your husband as you weren’t able to accompany him everywhere he went so you settled in his makeshift office on what was possibly the worlds smallest sofa with your laptop sitting in your lap and your headphones placed over your ears to block out the noise from the team outside and the cars on the track.

It had been hours and you were content in the alone time you were getting, it was just you and your music playing in your ears that you didn’t notice the multiple calls you were receiving.

Unbeknownst to you, outside of his office, your husband was kicking off and nothing anyone did or said could calm him down.

The team had never witnessed Toto as angry as he was right now, the veins in his forehead more prominent than ever and whilst most didn’t understand the German words coming out of his mouth, they knew he couldn’t be saying anything nice.

Bono was trying to get a hold of you for possibly the twentieth time and he was still having no luck, he felt the pressure of the teams eyes on him, begging for the news that you’d be coming knowing that he was only one of a few that had your number and the means to find you right now but he wasn’t getting anywhere.

Poor Lewis and George were getting the brunt of the Austrian’s anger and even though they hadn’t a clue of what he was saying, they were starting to question the security of their jobs.

Luckily, a mechanic who had just entered the garage and was completely taken aback by the scene in front of him, awkwardly side shuffled to Bono and questioned what was going on. "He’s acting crazy! I can’t get a hold of Y/N."

"Didn’t she go straight into his office when they arrived earlier?" The mechanic asked.

Bono looked at him in shock and relief before jumping to his feet and wasting no time as he jogged in the direction of Toto’s office.

It was rude but he didn’t bother knocking, he almost cried when he saw you sitting there.

You got the fright of your life as the door burst open but the sight of a frantic Bono caused you to remove your headphones and look at him in confusion.

"Oh thank god you’re here! Toto’s gone mental!"

You released a sigh at his words and pushed your laptop to the side and got up from the sofa. "What for now?"

"I honestly have no idea but if he doesn’t calm down soon then Lewis and George might just start crying and Toto looks like he’s about to burst a blood vessel."

The moment you stepped out into the short, narrow corridor you heard your husbands angry German shouting. "Mein Gott," you muttered to yourself.

Entering the main part of the garage you weren’t greeted by a pretty sight at all, Bono wasn’t overreacting in the way he described Toto, Lewis and George and let’s not forget about the rest of the team.

You headed straight for your husband, not acknowledging the looks of relief you saw build on everyone’s faces, especially the two drivers’.

You didn’t even need to say anything to Toto, you just stood in front of him and looked up at him with a stern gaze that soon got him to shut up but his eyes were still blazing with fury as he looked down at you, you knew his anger wasn’t aimed at you, he was just still pent up with emotions.

You nodded in the direction of his office and simply walked away, expecting him to follow after you if he knew what was good for him.

He followed you.

The moment you heard him close the door you turned to him. "This needs to stop."

He looked at you furiously, "how am I supposed to stop when I have two drivers that can’t even get through a lap without crashing into each other!"

"Don’t you dare talk to me like that, Torger!" Your voice cut through the air as you glared at him which soon caused his face to shift from angry to wounded as you scolded him.

"How hard is it for you to simply sit them down and give them a stern talking to, there’s no need for the way you completely blow your top, you’re acting like a child throwing a tantrum."

He was still beyond angry, you could see it in his eyes and the way he shifted on his feet and he was about to retort but you cut him off. "I don’t want to hear you right now, I want you to sit down in silence and calm down before a single word comes out of your mouth."

He pursed his lips, not at all happy but he did as he was told and sat down in the chair behind the small desk, you didn’t spare him a glance as you sat yourself back where you were before Bono came searching for you, pulling your laptop back onto your lap to finish what you had been doing.

It was a good 15/20 minutes later when you heard him get up from his seat and make his way over to you. He sat beside you and rested his head on your shoulder causing you to roll your eyes but a smile grew on your face at his actions, you were glad he couldn’t see it though.

You continued to carry on with what you were doing, letting him decide how he wanted your conversation to go and so it remained silent for a few more minutes with you and Toto simply sat there, him resting against you simply soaking up the comfort of your presence.

He shifted and pressed a kiss to your temple before returning back to his position. "Are you mad at me?" He asked when you remained silent.

You closed your laptop and put it away before shifting the both of you so you were up straight and looking at each other. "No," you told him honestly, "I just wish you wouldn’t let your frustrations get the best of you all the time."

He looked down at your words before looking back into your eyes with a sincere look, "I’m sorry."

"It’s okay," you smiled at him, reaching out a hand to brush his hair back. "We just need to find a way for you to keep yourself together."

"You’re the way," he replied immediately which stunned you and he was okay with that. He pulled you into his arms and you both just sat there.

You could be quite the opposite at times but you were content with that because you would always be there to ground him whenever his emotions got out of control.

#formula one #motorsport #fluff #formula one x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #toto wolff x y/n #toto wolff x oc #toto wolff fanfic #toto wolff fluff #toto wolff x reader #toto wolff #toto wolff fanfiction #toto wolff imagine #toto wolff x you

[ew-selfish-art]

DP x DC AU: Bruce is the one to invite Constantine over, and no, it's not to improve his tenuous working relationship with the asshole. It's the opposite of that.

---

Danny had become a frequent visitor of Wayne Manor in the last few months, and Bruce had to admit that while the kid was certainly a bit ominous for his liking for a partner to Tim, he was a generally kind and happy soul. They'd been dating for a lot longer than the Bats knew of- Kon had been the one to let it slip to Jon who told Damian and so on- and since the relationship was no longer secret, Tim brings him to family functions.

The thing about Danny is... He's dead. More than half of the time. Which again, is not Ideal for Bruce's wishes for Tim's future husband, but it also means that he reviles in being alive. Danny is downright joyous about using his time left on earth properly. He makes Tim eat real food, enjoy real sleep and generally live a more fulfilled life than he had been. The whole family noticed the changes in Tim, and it made them like Danny even more.

So after a particularly grueling day of dealing with Trigon and therefore the JLD's lack of coordination and sensible planning- Bruce gets the idea. John couldn't fucking contain himself admonishing Bruce, and perhaps it was vindictive, but Bruce figures that John should meet Danny. Sans context of course.

...

John is really over dealing with Batman's prissy, over complicated and perfectionist attitude. Come to the Cave he'd demanded, as though John didn't have a favorite bar to get back to, deal with a ghost he ordered like John didn't have other priorities than some random shade.

When walking into the space however, the second his teleportation portal closed, John knew something was deeply, deeply fucked. The shadows were growing longer, the second hand on his watch ticked slower, the air smelled of sulfur and... Red Robin was sitting working at the computer like nothing was wrong. But what was wrong, was the kid was marked by The End. Marked by The Infinite. FUCK.

John knew Death, the Endless, and knew she could pick favorites just like her siblings (Dream's immortal drinking buddy comes to mind). But this wasn't her work, this was something other.

"Mate- the Bat said there was a ghost?" John feels like he might throw up, the eerie atmosphere complicating what should have been a simple request.

"Uh, obviously." The kid didn't even look over from his screen or pause his typing.

John slowly approached, looking over each shoulder a few times, turning in a few circles as the shadows appeared to dance and echo within the cave. He could see his breath, the air became so cold so suddenly. And then, with the gentleness of a pin drop, a new agonizing sound appeared with a Kid walking down the cave stairs. The aura of the room turned dark, every cell in John's body screaming to run, that this was basically the little girl from the ring crawling through the TV as the young man walked down the steps.

"Babe, your grampa says that dinners going to be ready in a second. Oh, uh, hey dude." The creature speaks, turning his eyes to John for only a moment to study him. It feels equivalent to a butterfly being pinned by its wings.

"Y-y-you, you're, you're one of the Endless?" John stutters, his body reacting in fear despite the nonchalant posture of the Beast. The young man rolls his eyes.

"Nah, one of the Ancients but like uh, I'm new in town. And hon seriously don't be late, A made tiramisu for dessert and you're not allowed to have any if you're late and I don't want to deal with you pouting."

"You had me at Tiramisu!" Red stands up from his computer and then turns, "John, what are you doing here again?" Red Robin finally looks over at him, completely confused.

"Just leaving." John mutters, his eyes still trained on the ANCIENT.

---

Bruce could barely hide his laugh when Tim reported the Magician meeting Danny in the cave.

That'll show the asshole to question Batman's knowledge of the occult.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #braindead ship #deadtired ship #timxdanny #bruce approves of their relationship and not just cause he can laud it over constantines head #bruce beefing with constantine #danny is an ancient #also works for ghost king au's but im kind of burned out on those rn #also works for literally any other ship or adoption au technically but my shipper heart must beat on #john constantine #mentioned sandman comics

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Breakfast Time

My son’s stuck in a time loop again.

He thinks I don’t know, of course. He’s never told me that this happens to him (or that he can do this, possibly; I’m not sure which it is.) Maybe I’m a bad mother, if I haven’t proven myself worthy of that trust. But there is only so many times that one can watch their son trudge through a day with bored impatience, anticipating everything you say just a little too quickly and showing no surprise to even the most surprising event, and then come downstairs the next day disoriented but rejuvenated and with a new zest for life and a tendency to get blindsided by even the most predictable things, before one makes the obvious connection.

I don’t think he’s lived through this day too many times yet, because he’s not frustrated by my good morning joke but not surprised by the monster attack being announced on the news. He eats his toast makes polite conversation that sounds just a little too rote until his sister comes down, and he puts his toast down in that distinctive way that make her eyes widen in sudden realisation, a reaction I never would have noticed if I wasn’t looking for it. He told her about three time loops ago, I think, although it might’ve been earlier and I just never noticed the signal until then. I make sure to keep the smile on my face as I push a plate of toast towards her.

The thing on the news is some kind of flying beast, and my son’s eyes don’t leave the TV screen. I expect that calm, solid determination that I usually see in his expression on days like this, but instead he watches it only with a wary sort of calculation. I suppress a sigh – it looks like I won’t be remembering today, then.

The pair exchange glances and look to me. “Hey, mum, I figured we should go to school early. We’ve both got these big tests coming up and – ”

“Yes, fine, whatever. Go.” I know what you’re thinking – obviously they’re off to do something dangerous, and obviously they’re far too young for this sort of thing, and obviously I shouldn’t enable this, and I’m a terrible parent for letting them run off to maybe get themselves killed someday. But I put this to you:

How, exactly, do you expect me to stop them?

As my son heads for the door, though, I almost stop him. I consider, not for the first time, just telling him what I know, what I’ve figured out, and asking him to explain everything, to say where he’s going and what he plans to do about that thing and if his sister is involved and if they at least have help, to put my mind at ease. I don’t, though. Because, logically… I must have done that before, right? In at least one of the countless days that never happened. I must have gotten worried or angry or just fed up with this ridiculous charade and told him that he wasn’t as good at hiding as he thought he was. He has to know that I know, right? And yet, he still chooses to let it play out like this.

Or, perhaps, he told me once. That must have happened, right? I must have been there to help, to patch his wounds and dry his tears and listen to him confess his fears or his worries or his regrets about this big responsibility, about whatever he’s doing out there. He must have told me, at some point, at least once, in one of those nonexistent days. And afterwards, he chose not to tell the me that stuck around. Meaning that I must have given him some reason to keep this secret.

What did I do to him? What did I say to him? How bad a confidante must I have been, that he chooses instead to keep me in the dark?

They leave, they ‘go to school early’, and I start on the dishes. As I wash my daughter’s breakfast crumbs away, the plate slips from my fingers and shatters on the tiles at my feet. I sigh, and turn to get a broom.

Then stop. Pick up all the other dirty plates. And shatter them, one by one, on the tiles.

Then I leave the mess behind me, pull a full tub of rocky road ice cream out of the freezer, and resolve to spend the day eating junk and watching youtube videos. After all, it’s not like it’s going to matter tomorrow, right?

[yanderenightmare]

TW: NSFW, dubcon/noncon, slave darling, crude and derogatory terms, classism, abuse of power, death threats

fem reader

Thinking about the poor kitchen maid who's suddenly told she's to be the spoiled Prince's new chambermaid.

It hasn’t even gone a day yet, but you already miss your job in the kitchens.

Sure, the sweltering heat of the ovens always left you in a state of fever, and kneading dough from dawn ‘til dusk made your arms acidic with burns – unyieldingly sore – not to mention never getting a chance to sit down and rest before collapsing in bed at the end of the day. But the smell of freshly baked buns and the chance to sneak a bite out of those that came out of the oven just a bit too burnt for serving had always felt like payment enough.

That and not having to deal with the royal family.

You know you should feel honored. You know it’s supposed to feel godsend to be picked to become the Prince’s personal servant. But… there was a reason he so often required a change of maid.

You still remember the last one they’d taken from the kitchen. She was pretty and young and shouldn’t have been working there in the first place – that’s what everyone used to say before she disappeared.

You wonder if such words carry curses… and what you did to deserve the same things being said about you.

You nearly cried standing outside The Prince’s chambers, chewing on your lip with his breakfast tray in hand, wondering what rumors were true – if he really was as terrible as everyone claims – wondering where the other kitchen maid went and whether you’d end up in the same place… wondering what you could do to keep it from happening.

You don’t know what you were standing there waiting for, nearly pissing yourself when you knew he was still out – busy hunting down a couple of runaway servants for sport. It was almost as though you feared the room itself, as though it would bite once crossing the threshold. 

None of the sorts happened, though a gust of warm wind hit you like the breath of a beast once you opened the door.

Inside, there were around a dozen heads mounted on the wall – dragons, bears, lions, wolves, and other creatures you weren’t too sure of – all with mouths big enough to bite yours off.

You took only a second to look at them before they looked as though they’d leap from the walls and eat you alive, just like you’d predicted.

You set the tray of food down on the bedside table and walked to the bathroom to draw his bath – deciding work would keep your mind off it.

Stepping out a second later, you fixed a fire in the hearth and made to make the bed, stretching the duvet and the quilt over the massive mattress while eyeing the thread count with envy and the hand-stitching with awe. Left to wonder how many ducks had been shot to stuff the mountain of plush pillows he’d all but thrown onto the floor to make space for himself.

Walking through the steam to the bath again, you opened the cupboard to pick out soaps and oils – overwhelmed by the sight of every shelf stocked full of all sorts you’d never seen – glad you had somewhat decent reading skills – unlike many of the other maids.

Soaping the water, you sat on the edge and waited with a hand wading through the warmth – and while biting your lip, you let your mind wander again – daydream, like it so often did – imagining what it would be like to feel it on the rest of your skin, warm and smooth, sucking all the stress out and leaving you soft like a newborn.

He watched you enjoy yourself, his stark eyes calmly assessing what they saw with a tilt of his head – trailing from the tip of your worn-out shoes to the tattered edge of your grey maid’s dress, up your lap to the cinch of your waist where your white apron was bound – taking his time until your eyes fluttered open to find him standing there.

You nearly fell into the water, hopping up to a stance. “Sorry, your majesty- I forgot myself! Please forgive me.” You bowed, looking down at the muddy stains on your gray shoes – in anxious wait of his wrath.

But instead of a backhanded slap that would send you straight to the stone floor or a spit of venom which would make you flinch and cry, he spoke a calm and patient “Come here-”

Though spoken in a certain tone of authority that forced you forward in quick steps until stopping just short of him – still with eyes downcast.

“Mh, I'm glad they haven't run out of cute ones down there.” He said then, once you stood only a hair's length from him – voice just as calm as before and inspiring just as much surprise in you still, though now joined with visible confusion in the crinkle it caused between your brows. A furrow that only deepened once he reached out his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“Your majesty?” You questioned.

“It’s master.” He corrected sharply, and you grew unsure if his voice wasn’t just cold rather than calm. “I like that better. Now quit wasting my time and undress me, slave – I have important shit to attend to today.”

You wavered only a second, feeling the words like a flick to the forehead. “Of course, your majes- master. Forgive me.” You blurted with hands quickly jumping forth to help detangle the knots keeping his robes together. 

Small fingers working hurriedly to appease him, setting aside the light leather cuirass upon his dresser once loosening it from his torso – wondering if you should tell him your name, though thinking better of it as he’d opted for simply referring to you as a slave instead of asking. 

You hadn’t been called that in a long while – slave – never by anyone in the kitchen, at least. You’d nearly forgotten it was what you were – a slave – and not just a busy member of the crown’s staff.

You bit your lip with another bow of your head, not wanting the Prince to see your face in its hurt while you undid the ties to the braces on his arms. The castle had become your home rather than a prison over the years, but… with the echo of your title wringing in that very heavy tone of his, along with standing there – bowing your head while undressing him of all fine body armor and robes – you couldn’t suppress the reminder of being of much lesser blood and birth. A fact that – despite never before having bothered you much – somehow seemed to strangle you now.

He’d dragged mud in with his boots – and given he’d not bothered taking them off, you were left to believe he wanted you to do it for him. And though humiliating as it was, you crouched down and began undoing the laces nonetheless – further feeling degraded while caressing the boot.

You pulled it off and repeated the action with the other foot – wondering if he meant you to remove his breeches and tunic as well until he, fortunately for you, lifted the shirt off and pulled the strings to the trousers himself. Leaving the undergarments in a pool on the floor next to you.

You kept your eyes down until he was completely submerged in the water, afraid to see something you weren’t allowed to – before getting up and padding back to the cupboard. You'd never been any lady's or lord's maid before, but you had been trained in the duties – and though heat rose to your cheeks at the thought of those duties, you still made to grab the soap and loofa in shakey hands before kneeling down on the stool next to the tub.

You’d never seen the prince if not from afar atop the castle balcony during speeches by his mother, the Queen – and had only ever heard of his appearance as something twisted and foul – but looking at him with his eyes closed, he really didn’t look as demonic as people had made him out to be. But further thinking about it, scrubbing his chest with soap and water and oil – you realized that none of those people were likely to have seen him up close either.

He looks every bit royal with his strength of face – cutting edges as though carved in marble, with chiseled muscles gleaming in the water and oil.

He was no doubt very handsome, you concluded silently – finally understanding why he was more of an eligible prince than what his attitude would otherwise allow – that, along with the kingdom’s riches, of course.

He sagged forward while you mindlessly amused your findings – though paying attention enough to take the cue – squeezing water onto his back with the sponge before rubbing over the broad flex of muscles, freezing once hearing him let out a heavy moan.

He leaned back again after you were done. Spilling water onto your dress once pulling his arms out to rest on the frame with a sigh – his chin tipped upward, lounging lazily on the back of the tub.

You reached for his face next – now with a silken cloth – stroking it lightly over the few droplets of blood splattered from when he must have cut into those poor runaways after hunting them down with swords and dogs in heel.

You shuddered some at the thought and must have let your eyes linger too long – or at least long enough not to notice him opening his – staring at you silently with eyes jaded in something that seemed to seize you by the throat.

“I’m sorry, ma-” You tried, but he seemed disinterested in it, reaching for you with wet fingers rubbing on the hem of your collar.

“You’re not dressed properly.” He said then, voice lazy yet loud – unimpressed, though not enough to be outright angry.

Gulping at the feel of his large hand so close to your neck, your voice only barely held it together. “I’m sorry, master. They hadn’t the right maid livery in my size, but I’ll have it ready tomo-” You started, hands folded neatly on your lap.

“Take it off.” He interrupted.

You blinked – tensing with your throat closing – sitting there stunned for a moment before mustering an ever so hesitant answer.

“Your majesty?”

“It’s master. Don’t make me tell you again, slave." He growled through grit teeth right at your face after yanking you close by the fabric of your shirt. "And you either dress properly, or you go naked. And right now, it looks like it’ll be the latter. Unless you want to be whipped for poor servitude?”

Your eyes – moon-big now while you shook your head – breathing thin through your nose. “No, master... I’ll undress.”

“Good.” He broke off your collar, dropping you back down onto your seat on the floor before rising with water rushing fast and heavy down along his limbs, dripping onto you as he stepped out with an unfettered splash.

You got up as well, beginning with the buttons on your shirt. Feeling him eye you while he wrapped himself in the towel you’d laid ready for him – his burning gaze leaving you goosefleshed and nearly in tears, bashful as you stepped out of your skirt – naked before him.

You didn’t dare look – even as he stepped toward you. Keeping your head bowed low – breath in shivers while eyeing the hand he reached for you, his fingers stopping just short of touching your bare skin.

“Clean yourself.” He said then, wafting the same hand to the tub he’d just used. Still filled with bubbles of lavender, though no doubt also of his own grime. But you wouldn’t refuse, no matter the degradation – your thoughts still lingering on the former kitchenmaid who’d disappeared not long after becoming the Prince's personal servant.

You stepped in, feeling the warmth close around your legs – still hot enough to prickle. Lowering yourself down, you sat there – swallowed by the bubbles with the loofa in hand, lathering your flesh with the mix of oil, soap, and water – brushing off soot and sweat – leaving you soft-skinned and smooth to the touch, but also riddled with goosebumps that wouldn't lower under the heavy leer the Prince was giving you.

“Get out and come here.” He said a short moment later, and you got out as told – taking slow steps toward the man, with footprints leaving soapy puddles in their wake.

He reached behind you to pull the pin from your worker's bun, letting your hair cascade in flowy wisps down around your shoulders – before brushing them behind you to clear your face and chest.

He’d dried off but didn’t offer you the towel – having dropped it into a wet pile on the floor – now reaching out to feel the smooth gloss of your breasts with brazen digits. Inspecting and assessing while caressing their weight as you stood there with your head still hung down low – silent and shivering.

Soon his hands fell from your chest down to judge your every curve, sliding over slippery slopes until reaching your cunt – stroking two thick fingers through the drippy curls found there. Gliding them between the lips, he circled your clit with his middle digit – tickling you – while dark eyes watched your lip quiver with a power-hungry gleam.

Stepping closer, the small smirk stretched on his face brushed your hairline where you tried bowing your head even lower in embarrassment – with brows tremoring similar to the hands hanging loosely by your sides.

“Aren’t you gonna bleat like a little lamb? Hmm... slave?” He asked then – low in a whisper, blowing gently into the sweat of your hair – cold enough to make you shiver even more. “The slut before you did….” He added with his smirk sharpening – lips stiffening against your skin where he brushed them in halfhearted kisses down your forehead and temple until reaching the shell of your ear. “I had to wring her little neck just to make her stop squealing.”

You sucked your teeth on impulse, jolting just a bit but not enough to make the dire mistake of moving. 

“I can tell you’re smarter. That’s good….” He continued with fingers kept at your cunt – playing your shivering core where you stood planted – dripping wet with bathwater and terrified of moving. “Weak little things like you do better understanding their place.”

Your hands formed loose fists, flinching at your sides as you kept from the urge to wring your thighs shut until he left your sensitivity alone.

“But smart or not, I believe you missed a spot earlier-” Both his hands found your hair instead. “So get down on your knees, slave.” 

One paw cupped the back of your skull in a ponytail while the other laid flat on your scalp, pushing you down until he had you leveled with his throbbing manhood – thick and high-strung – blushed red and strangled with veins – bobbing with might against the ant trail leading up to his navel and looking every bit impatient to be served. 

“Use this pretty head of yours to do better, and maybe I won't have to wring your little neck too.”

You eyed the swaying length with eyes crossing – sucking your lip at its intimidating reach and how it seemed to rise higher than your head – mumbling out a weak. “Yes, master...”

You dropped your jaw and produced your tongue – feeling him keep control of your head in his tightening hold, yanking your hair before you gave the large cock a flat lick – starting at the base of his balls until flicking off at the very tip.

Not too revolted by the mild taste of lavender and vegetable oil, you locked your lips around the head and sucked it in hopes he’d ease his grip.

“Sh-fuuhck- you really do know your place, huh slave?” He mouthed – his head hanging back in a heavy groan – holding your skull in both hands while using them to bob you against his crotch on repeat, lolling his hips inside the wet warm comfort of your mouth a little deeper for each time – only moaning with a laugh once you gave a whine for breath. “Sweet and obedient- just how I like- with a nice wet throat to fuck too….”

He thought of kicking you when you put your small hands against his thighs to brace yourself – but given how softly you held them there without nails and pinches, he decided he’d grant you the tiny mercy – thinking he’d later teach you to keep your hands on your knees when serving him head like a proper slave ought to.

Tipping his head back again, he looked down at you and the pretty curl between your brows and the cute sight of your teary eyes looking back up at him – giving a hiss at how it made his balls tug in excitement.

“Get up-” He growled, pulling you up by your hair and throat until you shoddily stood upright on unsteady feet – lightheadedly looking at him with dazed eyes and a wet pout. “’This tight cunt as loyal to the crown as your mouth, hm?” He asked with a hand smacking the soft place, making you yelp before he made to bury two of his thick fingers inside the taunt space.

You whined out softly at the intrusion – kept steady and close by the fist holding your throat in a choke – before he used the same hand to throw you over the bed – stomach first with a slap to your ass.

“Bow down, slave- and show me some fucking respect. You’re in the presence of royalty, remember?”

He mounted you with a pent-up groan – and a strong fist in your hair, pushing your face down into the mount of pillows you’d dallied with earlier. His knees dipped into the plush next to your hips, locking you beneath him with his spit-slickened meat resting between the soft valley of your ass, sliding between the cheeks impatiently.

Gathering your wrists in his other fist, he kept them crossed at the small of your spine – before pulling back and letting his cockhead fall right to your sweetly wet and welcoming opening – wasting little time in piercing it nice and deep in a direct aim – like an arrow shot straight through a target.

You winced and bucked your hips at the attack – feeling your walls weep and sting – fluttering hot around the size of it.

He leaned across your back – heavy against your shoulders with his mouth at your ear in gritty whispers. “I like docile slave girls like you who know a thing or two about pleasing a man. Good submissive sluts who understand they’re nothing but warm soft meat for men like me to devour.” 

His words groaned in nibbling bites on your earlobe – with a hand kept strict and harsh in yanking your head back for him as he slowly started dragging himself out and stuffing you so fast you couldn’t keep from yelping at the breach. Toes gripping the cold rocky tiles as your legs shook under you – being rocked into harsh and deep by the muscle strength of the beast on top.

“I'm not the first one you’ve bent over for, huh?” He continued with a grin, haughtily chuckling in low breathy condescension. “Probably the first one you’ve had take you in a proper bed, though, hm? And not in a hayloft on whatever dirty farm you grew up on.” 

Your fingernails punched into your palms where he wrung your wrists tight, keeping you pressed flat beneath him while he heedlessly rutted into you like you were nothing but his own snug fist. 

“I bet the whole village had a go seeing how pretty you turned out.” He laughed again, scoffing at it with his tongue tickling your ear. “Did they all fuck you like this? From behind like a farm animal? On all fours with your pretty face moaning in the mud?” Simpering, he sped up as though aroused by his own words.

Twisting your hair tighter and groaning louder against your ear – chasing your deepest parts with balls clapping hard against your clit.

“You’re all fuckin' inbreds- It’s a fucking miracle your filthy parents created something like you- prettier than all the bratty princesses I have to listen to yap all day.” He moaned – now fully drooling against your face, nomming on your ear with heavy breaths.

Fully draping you in his sweaty muscles, you lay gasping beneath the weight – cunt clenching hard around his shaft – making him hiss.

“Ah fuck- It's nice coming home to an obedient slave- so tight and warm- grateful for a royal cock in your poor slave cunt, huh?”

You winced at his pounding, so deep you felt it choke you – making your stomach fold and curl, trying to protect itself from the assault. “Yes- thank you, master- thank you-” You cried while he placed sloppy layers of wet kisses down your temple and cheek in return – until finally pulling off.

“Come here, down on your knees-” Ripping himself to his feet, he pulled you with him by the fist riddled in your hair and pushed you down at the foot end. 

Tugging on his cock in the other hand – quick faps in the slick – he kept you looking up at him while slapping the wet weight in sticky taps against your lips. 

“Open wide, slave- here it comes-” 

Only one more jerk and it all blew in thick white beams shooting across your face – spewing in clusters, hitting you once on your forehead and another over the nose - dripping to your lips into your gaping mouth where he focused on squeezing out the rest – tapping the plush creamy tip against your tongue while panting. 

“Mh-fuck- clean me off and swallow.”

With breaths heavy and slowing, he detangled his hand from your sweaty locks and made to pet your head instead. Gently running his fingers over your hair while watching you obediently kiss and lick up all the spill in tired and slow yet devoted strokes with your tongue until it was all prettily wiped clean.

“Good slave.” The Crown Prince hummed then.

Finally sounding satisfied – still with a lazy hand holding your head where you so faithfully sat at his feet, swallowing his seed, while his satiated cock grew limp in regard.

“Now go wash off while the water’s still warm, and come out and help me get dressed.” He ordered, voice groggily soft in the after high. “I have a full schedule today looking at potential brides… and I want my little farm animal by my side to keep me going insane from boredom.”

BNHA – Bakugou, Dabi

JJK – Sukuna, Gojo, Naoya

HQ – Oikawa, Sakusa

BLLK – Reo

DS – Doma, Muzan, Sanemi

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

[paperbackribs]

update: 🐺werewolf Steve, 🦇bat Eddie completed on Ao3 here

How to survive a werewolf attack, Eddie mentally repeats to himself in a determinedly bright manner, channelling every nature documentary he’s ignored. His resolve does little to quiet the jolt of fear that had run through him as it turned into— that.

“How to survive a werewolf attack,” Eddie mutters to himself as it pads one giant paw towards him in the middle of Steve’s living room, hoping that speaking aloud will clear the bees buzzing in his brain, focusing all his thoughts in one direction: he should run.

“How the fuck do I survive a werewolf attack?” Eddie frantically yells at Dustin standing by the couch, grinning a gummy smile back at him with his hands casually thrown in his pockets.

The wolf growls lightly at his tone and Eddie’s head snaps back, alarmed that he’d allowed himself to look away from those intent yellow eyes for even a moment. But as scary as the predatory look is, the size of its head is just as terrifying. As large as Eddie’s torso with a wide, fanged mouth to match. Faintly, Eddie mentally compares one long tooth to the length of his hand.

This is how he dies Eddie realises with a thumping heart.

Not the bats.

Not Vecna.

No, a giant, golden mahogany werewolf nearly as tall as his fully grown adult body is going to open that massive mouth and swallow him down whole.

The beast stops, gaze narrowing to the pulse pounding in Eddie’s neck and he quickly slaps a hand over it, trying to limit the temptation of the tasty blood slash fresh meat vibe he must be giving off. It sits back on its heels; a movement Eddie feels shudder through the carpet at his feet and turns its head to Robin with a slight whine.

She scowls at Eddie, stepping forward to bury her hand comfortingly into the plush at its furry neck. “Don’t listen to him, Steve. He’s just being a big baby.” Shifting her fingers to scratch under its ears, the werewolf—Steve, Eddie hastily corrects himself as Robin continues to glare at him—half-closes its eyes in bliss. Though, he notes that it—he—still keeps his gaze steadily trained on Eddie.

Swallowing, Eddie tries to remember what they had just been talking about, but it’s lost in the chaotic whirlwind of his thoughts and the adrenalin urging his heels back. All of it consumed by the conviction that Eddie is prey in front of predator and about to be fed to what used to be Steve Harrington.

“Oh my god,” he moans, hands coming up to pull his hair down to hide behind, “Am I a sacrifice?”

Lucas sighs in exasperation, “I told you we should’ve showed him photos or something first.” Max makes a derisive sound and sits cross-legged next to Steve’s wide chest; he gently leans against her with a small thump of his tail. “He was always going to freak out, may as well get it over with.”

Eddie would really like to get the small child away from the massive beast right now; despite the fact that Max is a sophomore and would likely rip him a new one at even the suggestion. But it does help, seeing her casually play with the fur under her hand, and the bees die down a little, just enough to remember why they had called him here.

“You wanted to show me this—” Max squints at him and Eddie changes tack “—show me Steve turning into a wolf because you’re concerned about me.” The ridiculousness of it strikes through him, bubbling over into half-hysterical laughter. “Shouldn’t you be worried about the massive fucking fangs near Max’s head right now.”

The wolf lets out a gusty sound that Eddie can only imagine is a sigh and thumps onto his belly, stretching his head out to rest on crossed-over paws as big as dinner plates. The position should look less threatening, but all Eddie can see is how the jaw of the creature has been thrown into sharp relief, emphasising how far it could probably unhinge if given an incentive. He slaps his hand back over his pulsing neck again.

El appears by his side and he nearly jumps a foot, not having noticed her approach while focusing so fiercely on the wolf. She takes his hand, gently saying, “It is okay, Eddie. He’s only Steve and he would never hurt you.”

He keeps a hold of her hand. The Steve he’s come to know since Spring Break has seemed like a pretty good dude, sure; but, the one thing he does know, is that the guy would take a bullet for every kid in this room.

It's not cowardice to hide behind a kid, he reassures himself. Not when the kid isn’t in any danger. Max shoots him a dark look again and he suspects that she’s seen through his intentions. He clears his throat, focussing on El’s kind and reassuring squeeze of his hand, “Right. Why is Steve a werewolf?”

“Good question,” the bill of Dustin’s hat bobs in his approval, “Back in ’84 we were in these tunnels, you see and —”

“Short version, Dustin,” Robin interrupts, which is frankly ironic of her Eddie thinks, knowing she falls into extended explanations herself.

Dustin screws up his face, but condenses the story, “We were attacked by dog versions of the demogorgons and since then Steve has gone all furry whenever he wants.” He waves a hand at the prostrate wolf who continues to placidly watch their conversation, “I see where you went with werewolf but technically, he’s not forced to turn at a full moon.”

Will exchanges a look with Mike as they lean against the opposite wall, “Not technically, no. But he does get weird around it.” El tugs him to sit down with her and Max, but Eddie lets go of her hand, unwilling to let cede the high ground when it’s the only thing keeping his feet ready to run if Steve decides to demonstrate how weird he can get.

“Shouldn’t he have…” Eddie waves a hand over his face with a splaying motion of his fingers. He hasn’t seen a demogorgon yet, but the kids had described them to him, and the demo-bats apparently had the same set-up of gaping maws exploding like a fanged cross over their face.

“Another great question, Eddie,” Max rolls her eyes, “Let me just consult my instruction manual on the Upside Down and get back to you.”

“It’s a fair question, Max,” Lucas says softly and she relents, “Yeah, but he looks like he’s about to throw up and Steve would hate the mess.” The wolf snorts and nudges her with his muzzle; she lightly strokes the top of his nose with a responding smile.

“Our best guess is that the demo-dogs and demo-bats are a weird mix of actual animal and Upside Down creepiness,” Robin says, letting go of Steve to sit on the couch behind him, “And Steve got infected with the actual animal part but the woo-woo creepiness is what helps him turn into the wolf.”

Eddie’s guts turn to liquid, and he hovers suddenly uncertain hands over his body; right beside the areas still scarred from his own demo-bat bites. “Wait a second,” he rasps, “Steve got bit by the dog version and he turns into this. So if I got bit by the bat versions…”

“That’s why we’re telling you,” Lucas explains frankly, “It didn’t happen straight away with Steve so we thought that you should have a heads up at the very least.” Dustin gestures down Eddie’s body with a demanding hand, “And you can tell us if you notice any weird changes.”

“What?” Eddie asks a little wildly, “Like if my voice drops and I get hair in new and wonderful places?” Robin and Dustin exchange worried glances and the latter falls back on a soothing tone that he hasn’t managed since cornering Eddie in the boathouse while he was on the run, “There’s no guarantee that you were infected…” Robin winces at the word choice as Eddie’s eyes widen. “…but you should tell us if you notice anything different, just in case.”

Eddie wants to collapse onto the floor. Just crouch there with his hands pressed comfortingly against his eyes to shut out the insanity this afternoon has turned into. But eyeing how close Steve with his monster fangs is, Eddie refuses to get any closer. He may as well lay on his back and strip for good measure. That way Steve won’t get any denim stuck in his teeth; he thinks the last thought with a small hiccup.

The massive head raises and turns to look over its—his—shoulder with a questioning whine. Robin’s faces hardens slightly, and her arms come up to cross over her chest. “You go for a run or something, I’ve got this.”

Eddie watches those tree trunks for legs rise and feels something quake inside, doing nothing for his pounding pulse that had only just started to subside. Steve looks back at him one more time before licking Dustin’s hand and butting his head against Robin’s knee to trot through the living room towards the backyard.

Chapter 1

#steddie #werewolf steve harrington #bat eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #stranger things #paperbackribs writing

[letorip]

somethin’ stupid

“and then i go and spoil it all, by saying somethin’ stupid like ‘i love you’”

===+++===

pairing: wednesday addams x reader

summary: even knowing that your relationship with wednesday is one huge grey area, you can't help the words that come tumbling from your lips one night while on an expedition together.

warnings: blood, violent attack scene, angsty pining, mentions of sex, fear of the dark

word count: 4.2k

A/N: first post, kinda nervous. honestly pumped to start posting on here after being somewhat new to writing. will try my best not to suck.

===+++===

It’s only after you meet Wednesday Addams for the first time that you understand why storms are named after people.

In the near five months total she had been in your life, she had quickly climbed to the top priority, and you found yourself trapped in her rain bands, tugged under her dark, swelling tide and drawn to less direct ways.

Now and likely until the very end of time, you followed her through the forest, peeking around each passing tree and shining your flashlight into the dark. It was a knight's sword for you, and you held it like a weapon so as to ward off evil spirits or howling beasts. Only, half of the time it ended up being a squirrel.

It seemed antithetical, to walk into the pitch black forest that had killed several hikers and injured Eugene, -or more the big ass creature inside it had, but Wednesday had never cared much for what made sense, and you knew better than to argue with her.

The rain continued to fall around the both of you, splattering against the hood of your rain coat and rolling down your sputtering lips, tracing your nose on the way down. If Wednesday was at all affected by the rain, she hadn't let it show yet. Not that she let much show, that was.

You shivered from a sudden gust of cold, wet wind rushing over your knuckles from where they white-gripped the rubber wrapping of your flashlight. "Are we almost there yet?" You asked, squinting into the trees. "I have to get up early tomorrow."

There was no possible way Wednesday could know where she was going in the sheer amount of darkness fended off by a flimsy Acebeam, but she pushed through like she did. Maybe orienteering was just part of the outré magic she always carried with her, or at least that's what you figured it probably was. In another life she had been a cheerful girl scout, though you knew better than to suggest that aloud.

The same could not be said for you, who was an utter idiot about directions and probably would have driven off a cliff by now without the use of a GPS. Wednesday had once said you wouldn't be able to find your way out of a cardboard box, and offensively, she was probably right.

It didn't make sense why she chose you of all people to bring along, then. You had no special strength or sight, and virtually no knowledge on how to investigate a murder, especially the serial kind. The only ability you had allowed you to read thoughts and minds, though you never dared read Wednesday's, even when you itched to know what she was thinking.

Despite feeling more like an achor dragging her boat down, almost every evening, at around the same time after dark, she showed up on your doorstep to tug you off to some dangerous place.

Maybe you were secretly hoping for a reward of some sort. She often indulged you as such, lips like a heroin shot directly to your veins, powering you through the day as you watched the clock tick away into night anticipating the next rush. Enid was right. You were whipped for her.

"Your protesting doesn't make the journey any shorter," she replied, turning with the dark look that always lurked in the back of her eyes.

You knew the movements well: when she glared, her eyes lowered slightly and her mouth tensed. One could not help but watch in awe, storing the memory for later. Or, at least those ‘whipped’ for her couldn’t. She spun back around to face forward, your flashlight pointing over her shoulder into the brooding dark.

The rain only seemed to come down harder from there, punishing you both for slogging through the mushy leaves when sane people would be indoors. But Wednesday would not settle until she found Arcadia.

You cleared your throat, uneasy with the ensuing silence.

"Where are we even going, Wednesday? We've been walking forever," you said, looking down at the pale grey rocks as you stepped over them. You were grateful for being clever enough to remember hiking boots.

"We're finding evidence," she replied. "I was informed of a suspicious cave out in the forest, and-" Wednesday's words came rushing to a halt as her foot clipped the rock in front of her. She stumbled a bit, and you threw out an arm to her back, there if she needed something to steady herself on.

It was uncoordinated and it was clunky at best, and Wednesday was far from appreciative. She jolted back from your touch as if you had stung her, glaring as harsh as ever. "Sorry," you said. "I didn't want you to fall." The tips of your ears had begun to burn again, upon realising you were made the fool for another time in a row.

"You should have," said Wednesday, walking ahead. "It simulates dropping dead." Of course, on you, such a statement did not have the desired effect. Whereas most would have replied in shock or disgust, you laughed. Out loud, right at her. The gall. She whipped back to you, perplexed and annoyed by the noise. "Have something to share?"

You grinned. "You can act cool all you want, but if you had actually landed in the mud, you would have been pissed." Her expression went from glare to glower impressively quickly, though you took great glee in the fact she didn't try to dismiss it.

Anyone who had just met her would have been terrified, but you knew that look meant she hated just how much you were right. Wednesday's moody eyes lowered to your jacket, as if she was looking for an insult to sling in response.

"Why are you yellow?"

You blinked, then shrugged. "Because for someone so intelligent I'm the only one who remembered a raincoat."

"The beast will eat you wether you're rained on or not," she replied reasonably.

You blanched at this. It was apparent the possibility had never crossed your mind. "It eats people????"

Suddenly the darkness of the woods only seemed to worsen and the rain seemed to come down even harder, as if life was laughing at the terror it was causing. You had never been one for haunted houses, and you decided in that instant that this was far worse than any haunted house you had ever been to.

Wednesday shrugged, and you were far from put at ease by that. She glanced at you up through mischievous lashes, entirely knowing what she was doing and enjoying every sadistic moment of it.

"I suppose we may find out tonight. I should offer up you, the yellow highlighter, first. You have longer bones than I do, and I'm sure it would appreciate a snack, after-"

"Ha. Ha."

As surprising as was Wednesday's capacity to joke, you knew that's all it was. Such falsehoods could not be exposed to the public, and she would rather die than admit she cared for anyone. That was her secret. You knew to keep it well.

It had been weird to see Wednesday attempt comedy at first. Often times you still thought she may be dead serious. But on these nightly expeditions it seemed she could joke freely. Sometimes she kissed you freely. You just had to know she didn't do it for you. She told you constantly, just to be sure.

From in front, Wednesday trembled from a sudden angry breeze and you watched her, sighing and tugging off your raincoat. You tossed it over her shoulders wordlessly; Wednesday didn't acknowledge it either. She put one arm in, then another, but didn't pull the hood up, and you rolled your eyes. "Pull the hood up, Wednesday. Don't be stubborn."

"I'm fine," she shot back, tone sharp and piercing to any sort of armour you could have put up. But even that didn't make you buy it.

"Your hair is like, stuck to your forehead, Wednesday. Just pull up the hood part."

"I don't even want to be in this dreadful thing, why would I want more of it on me. It's yellow."

"It's keeping you warm."

"I'm allergic to colours."

"Well then I guess it's great you brought a black one- oh, wait! That's right! You didn't."

She blinked at you unappreciatively, but your unimpressed expression made her give in, and she begrudgingly did as she was told. With a hood now over her, shrouding her soft hair from the harsh rain, you felt a bit better about her being out in the cold. After a moment she grumbled, messing with the sleeves. "Why are your arms so freakishly long?"

You didn't answer, biting back a response that included the word 'short.' It would have been entirely unproductive and probably earned a rock thrown at your head. Instead, you focused on the small row of houses you could see on a road in the far distance.

Their windows were small, warm boxes in the dryness, as opposed to the pouring, angry storm only a heathen of some sort would be caught in. It looked the same as it had the week before when you had passed the same area with Wednesday, and you recognised the same lamp that sat in the same spot of the same window on the second floor. It hadn't moved even an inch and neither had the flowers in the pot sitting next to it.

You hummed, "I love streets like those. It looks so warm and comfortable. I could be out here forever and it would still be the same warm place."

"Poetic," Wednesday dryly replied. Poetry had never seemed to move her much, beyond the grim ones from Poe about death and despair. She had tried to teach you about it once, during an impromptu "study session," which was what Wednesday usually called hunting you down after class and sticking your head between her legs.

It was the very first time she had let you stick around after, and the more and more often she let it happen, the more you felt yourself allowing for false hopes. Of course, accusing her of growing fond was a way to end up in an early grave and you knew better.

It had been a whisper, really, what she said with your head resting on her stomach, arms against the skin of her thighs. You were both sweating, terribly so, and then came, "years of love have been forgotten, in the hatred of a minute." It was only a whisper, and you weren't even sure Wednesday had spoken it into existence. But you looked up, and she was staring down at you, eyes unreadable. Her mouth was tensed into a grimace; a symbol for words unsaid.

"What's that?" You asked, leaning your head back.

She had shook her head. "It's Poe. He founded the school."

"I know who Edgar Allan Poe is, Wednesday. I meant what you were saying."

She looked away to the window, like eye contact then would have doomed her. "I'm not sure." It was a lie, and you knew it, but you couldn’t scan Wednesday’s thoughts and it was the first time she had let you stay propped up against her. You knew better than to ruin that.

"Why do you like that kind of poetry, anyhow? It's awfully depressing."

"It's a reminder," she replied, eyes still away and tone flat. "You and I will be in the ground someday, or maybe I will be in the family crypt. 'As you are now, so once, was I.' And other such ruminations. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." Her gaze sliced back to you, as if she were gaging your reaction. "Either way, we're doomed."

You hadn't known what she meant by that, and you still didn't know, walking through the forest. She spoke in riddles, and it was impossible to know if she wanted you to decipher them or leave them as they were. Her vagueness with emotions was her armour, maybe.

Wednesday was usually cold and efficient and exact, in a way you could appreciate. You were far warmer, and though you seemed to constantly trip over yourself, patiently waiting for any sort of warmth to be returned, she stayed with the same chill that kept you close enough to bring comfort to her fingers, but never close enough to make her melt.

"When we get there, I want you to stay outside and keep watch. Don't come inside with me, I want to look around alone. If you hear anything or any noise or thoughts over the rain, give me the signal I trained you on," said Wednesday, looking through the bowers and thread veins of roots so as not to trip again.

"You're not my boss, Wednesday, and I'm not your henchman," you said, the words spilling out in annoyance. You hated when she went into work mode. She looked over at you, eyes giving an intense challenge.

"What am I then?"

You rolled your eyes at this. "Like my hobby, at best." It wasn't true, and both of you knew it.

"Do you kiss and sleep with all your 'hobbies,' then?" Wednesday's eyes studied you.

"Maybe," you shrugged. "I don't really kiss and tell." Actually, you hadn't kissed anybody since she had made out with you two days prior, and you hadn't kissed somebody other than her since she had first kissed you two months ago.

You knew, though, that Wednesday had done similar peregrinations with the normie boy, Tyler, from town who worked at the Weathervane. Sometimes you wondered if she put her lips on his, too. Other times, you couldn't help wondering if either of you really mattered to her.

She had said no when you asked her that once before, but slow danced and made out with you immediately after answering, at the Rave'N, so your confusion was understandable. It was like she both hungered for you and hated you for it at the same time, and you knew getting thrown around like that wasn’t what you wanted. But if it gave you her, even for a brief moment, you were all too eager.

From behind the both of you, you heard a branch snap, spinning around as the rain poured. There was nothing visibly there; your stupid flashlight didn't reach out that far and no moving through the brush could be heard. "Did you hear that?" you said to Wednesday, freezing completely. She nodded, but did not seem phased even slightly, turning to watch your terror with an eyebrow raised.

“Likely an animal," said Wednesday.

You were still frozen to the spot, staring into the dark as fear screamed at you to run away. “Are you okay?” she asked, puzzled.

You shook your head, sticking your hand out towards her. “No.” It was a question that needn't be asked. Wednesday examined your fingers closely, like she was contemplating if it was a bad idea, but then grabbed your palm and held it tightly in hers, locking the digits in with her own and squeezing it gently. It was an immediate comfort and you unfroze, Wednesday pulling you into the dark.

===+++===

"Your obnoxious coat is warm...thank you." She seemed to spit the last part out with a bit of reluctance, but you appreciated it nevertheless. For around the last half mile, you had been getting rained on instead. Droplets dripped from your hair, rolling down your cheeks and over your lips before dribbling from your chin.

"You can keep it for a while. Until you get your own, I mean," you said, absentmindedly playing with the flashlight. You would rather die than admit you were nervous aloud. Luckily, it didn't seem you needed to.

She stopped short at your words, grabbing your collar roughly with her hand and balling it between her fingers. It was harsh and it was passionate, like Wednesday always seemed to be in flares. Her mouth crashed into yours, teeth clinking together, toes poking into the mushy ground so she could even reach your face.

Unfortunately, it was over as soon as it began, and she pulled away quickly, walking away and leaving you behind, panting awkwardly as your mind began to spin. She was all too much, everything about her. You couldn’t stop yourself. "I love you,” you blurted out.

From the way she whipped back to you, it hadn’t been nearly quiet enough. Silence seemed to echo through the clearing, even in the raging storm around that pounded into trees and pooled in mushy puddles. She stared at you, and all you could do was stare back. Wednesday stomped back over, cheeks red and dark eyes shining with an unusual capriciousness. “What?”

You shook your head. “Nothing. Talking to myself.”

But she didn’t believe you. In previous attempts by you to draw out any indication of her affections, she could blatantly ignore it or change the subject without answering. Now, she was frustrated by how you always wore your heart on your sleeve. And this time, how your words demanded she do the same.

“What did you say,” she demanded. “Tell me right now, or I’ll-“

“I said I love you, Wends,” you cut her off before she could make a threat. God, she stared. She stared and stared and stared at you with her eyes in the dark, looking like she would be the one to read your mind and not the other way around. The humidity of the rain was suffocating you, but the powerful wind filled your lungs with air again, in a vicious, heaving cycle.

She took a small step forward, tilting her head up at you like she was inspecting you up close. “You don’t mean what you say.”

"I really wish I didn't, but I absolutely do." Your tone burned with a relieving candor, and Wednesday's eyebrows furrowed, before she backed away again. Your flashlight turned towards the ground, lowering your face into shadow.

"I told you, I don't want anything more from you," she said. "You're spoiling what we already have." She seemed more agitated than anything, but you stood your ground.

"But I feel like there's more here, Wednesday. I know I'm not crazy, you can feel it too. So I don't know why you're being all tough, when I just want to take care of you. That's all I've ever wanted."

"Learn to want for something else then," she argued back. "We can't work, we won't, I-"

"Why?"

"I told you why," she replied, crossing her arms. "Years of love-"

"No no, none of that bullshit you know you want to confuse me with. Just lay it out, plain and simple."

She bit her mouth shut, then narrowed her eyes at you before giving a huff. "Have you been reading my thoughts?"

"What?" Your forehead creased into lines, staring at her intently. "You know I don't."

"I don't know if you're aware, but I see you, in my visions sometimes. I actually think about the same one often, when I'm with you."

"What am I doing, then?" You asked, feeling a sickness come to your stomach. You didn’t know what future event you would be up to, but you could guarantee Wednesday you would stop yourself from hurting her.

“You’re being killed. By the beast.”

“…Oh.”

“You’re running far away, being chased. I see you get tackled or hit, and you fall into the dirt. Then I see your face being slashed over and over again by a creature, and you appear to bleed out on the floor of a forest.”

“Wednesday, that won’t come true.” You tried to assure her, but a small hand came forward, covering your mouth, shushing you. The gentle palm pressed against your soaked lips, fingertips ghosting the lines of your cheeks.

“I would hate you for it, dying. What I hate even more is that your closeness to me is likely what causes this. I don’t love you, (Y/n). I can’t. Stop trying to make me. It’s only pitiful and painful for the both of us.”

You reached up for her hand, pulling it away. “But how do you know it’s definitely you that ruins it? What if it’s something else, or what if it’s you saying no?”

“Because as painful as it is, I’m certain I break your heart if I indulge you.”

“Wednesday,” your voice shook a bit. “You’re breaking my heart right now.”

“This,” she said, “This is why I cannot give you more than I already have. I’m not my parents, (Y/n). Can’t you just be happy with our current relationship? You always try to complicate things. Like a stupid little puppy.”

You took a step back like a wounded animal. “What? You’re being mean.”

“Maybe if I am it'll get through to you. We won’t work, and if we don’t try to make it work, I won’t end up breaking your heart, and you won’t run away.” Her speaking volume was getting louder now.

“That’s a stupid plan!” You said raising your voice.

“And you’re a fool!” She said back. “I’m trying to protect you and take what I can get at the same time."

"You're hurting me."

"You're hurting yourself. I keep pushing you away. Stop coming back."

You frowned, feeling your face grow hot. "I come back because I care, and I know you care too."

"Caring for you gets me nowhere. You're doomed, (Y/n). I'm trying to protect you, so do us both a favour and get as far away from me as possible. Don't let me pull you back."

"Wednesday, I-"

"Go, you idiot." You swallowed her words. She was still wearing your yellow raincoat, looking at you with the most steely expression you had ever seen. You stepped forward in silence, only the mushing of the leaves filling the space between you. You unwrapped the armband of the flashlight from around your wrist and extended it out to her.

"Here. For the cave." She blinked at you, then she took it. Without another word, you did as you were told, stepping off into the dark and pulling against the magnetic field. With your ability to break past her facades turned off, you couldn't see the deep regret that wormed its way into her stare, watching your back retreat into the tree line.

===+++===

It only took around five minutes for you to regret not having the flashlight. The storm had turned to complete and utter chaos, and you could hear thunder and lightning booming and cracking against the night sky. Everything was so much darker than before, and it seemed to grow up and out like a giant ladder, turning to shadow and fog a few feet in front of you.

Part of you was still mad at Wednesday. Knowing she was scared for you didn't make it any of an easier pill to swallow. Neither did knowing you would likely die soon.

The looming question still sat unanswered, weighing down the wrinkles of your brain and cozying up at the mantle of your thoughts. Would it be weeks? Months? If she never ended up catching it (though that was very unlikely) how many years would you have left?

From behind you, you heard a branch snap again. You spun, looking around. An animal maybe. Then, you heard footsteps. They were big, though not an animal. Maybe it was Wednesday. She wore thick shoes often, with heavy soles.

It was only with the sudden realisation that there was no flashlight with the figure coming towards you, that your eyes began to widen and a chill shot up your spine like a spooked animal. It only took the dropping of your telepathic cancelling to fully realise what was about to happen.

KILL. KILL. KILL.

The monster's thinking was thunderous and loud, and it reverberated within your skull as you turned to run. You stomped your foot into the swampy ground, running the fastest you felt you ever had. KILL. The forest seemed to blur, rushing past you as you fled through the trees and smacking at branches that sagged in your way.

KILL. You heard the footsteps now, coming up quickly. They sounded huge, and with every bound you could hear greenery get smushed behind you as the beast moved through it. KILL. You had no idea how close it was behind you, but there was no time to look either. In one rush, you found yourself back in a stoney quarry, and in the far distance illuminated a KILL. streetlight standing over a mountain road.

You ran towards it, face scratched by a branch in the process as you forgot to swipe it away. The wood KILL. connected with a stabbing pain, piercing your lip as you ran, but you didn't so much as wince. "HELP!" You yelled KILL. out, trying to catch any attention as you ran for the pavement, and you were almost there. KILL.

You were too slow. A set of long, pointy claws latched onto your back, sinking into the skin and ripping you down with a yelp, throwing you to the ground. Your back slid into the tree with a sickening crack, and pain seemed to freeze your body. KILL.

Standing over you was the muscular, horrifyingly disfigured body of a towering creature, its eyes shining with violent zeal. It lowered with a clicking growl, eyeing your heaving, bleeding body and sneering. KILL. KILL. KILL.

Your eyebrows furrowed, blood spilling from your lips. In a single instant, you knew who it was, digging past the monstrous yells to the real thoughts of the boy underneath. "Tyler?"

Its claws sunk into your stomach, and everything went dark.

===+++===

a/n: a part two maybe? idk, i'm no rocket scientist. anyways, this is my very first post, so, here we go i guess? excited to start this and grateful for anyone who reads this. i tried to spellcheck but if it isn't perfect please please please let me know, i would fix it immediately.

#wednesday addams x reader #jenna ortega x reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix #jenna ortega

[ro-is-struggling]

The Chase || Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Requested by anon: "reader constantly calling geralt the white wolf or just wolf during sexy time and him breeding his pups in her bcs of it???"

Summary: Geralt always tried to keep the wolf inside him caged in order to control his animalistic impulses, but with you that didn't seem to be required at all. 

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI! Porn without plot, public sex (technically since they’re in the woods), rough sex, penetrative sex, fear play? (not really, but Geralt does chase the reader through the woods so maybe? adding it just in case!), scent play, size kink, breeding kink, dirty talk, biting (like there’s so much it’s a warning in this fic), fingering, possessiveness, a little fluff at the end, fem!reader

English is not my first language

Word count: 3300

Notes: This is definitely NOT inspired on THAT scene from beauty and the beast that has been going around twitter all week, nope, not at all

Geralt was used to being called 'wolf' or 'white wolf'. It was a nickname he'd had for most of his life and was constantly used by Vesemir and the other witchers. He never thought much about it, just like his own name, he had it so internalized that he automatically responded when someone called him by those nicknames.

That changed, however, when you came into his life. There was something in the way you pronounced those words that awakened a primal feeling in him. It was in the way you looked at him, eyes defiant and playful, waiting to spark a reaction from him. It was in the way your lips moved, always ending in a mischievous smile, and in the sound of your voice, sweet and seductive, inducing him to madness, pushing him to his limit. 

Everything about you awakened in him an urge to possess you, to mark you as his so that everyone who saw you would know you belonged to him. He had to make an effort to stop his needy hands to caress your skin, and contain the desperation of his lips to kiss your neck and mark it with his teeth. He didn't care if there were people around him, they all ceased to exist when you called him wolf. 

It didn't help his situation that you always played dumb, pretending not to understand the power you had over him. But Geralt knew it was all an act. He knew that you were well aware of the effect that the utterance of that nickname had on him. And you used it as a weapon, a way to get a response from him when you wanted to play. And today you were in a very playful mood.

"What is it? Is the wolf scared of losing?" you teased him, trying to persuade him to take the bet. It was a simple race through the woods, just get from point A to point B as fast as possible to win. Only you had no intention of winning. All you were looking for was the thrill of the chase.

Geralt gave you an unamused look, taking a deep breath to calm the revolt that your use of that nickname had awakened in him. But then, he sensed your perfume in the air, mixed with the intoxicating scent of your arousal. His look completely transformed, frown relaxing into a firm, intimidating expression. The game was on.

"Oh you don't want to play that game, bunny." He warned you, giving you one last chance to change your mind. Once the race started, he wasn't sure he would be able to stop. He could already feel his insides vibrating with anticipation, the chained wolf fighting to break free. He had been locked up for too long, his needs ignored and repressed, so when he let go there would be no turning back. He was hungry and you were offering yourself to him without hesitation. How could he refuse?

You approached him, taking the sword he was sharpening out of his hand and bending down so you could look him in the eye. Your movements were slow, sensual, captivating your lover's gaze. Geralt's eyes got lost in your cleavage for a moment, admiring the exposed skin of your neck and the valley of your breasts as he suddenly began to salivate with need. His pupils widened, staring at you with yellow eyes turned almost completely black with desire. He could barely contain himself and that only increased your arousal.

"I'm not afraid of you." you said, and Geralt held back the urge to tell you that you should be. "Are you, wolf?"

He stood up and suddenly his imposing figure towered over yours, forcing you to tilt your head up so you could look at him. He was so much bigger than you, so much more agile, that it was ridiculous to even imagine you could beat him in a race. But, again, that's not what the game was about.

Geralt leaned in towards you, his lips brushing your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin. "When you lose and you're on the ground begging for mercy, I just want you to remember that you asked for this." he whispered, defiantly, sending a shiver down your spine.

He looked at you and you knew it was time to run. He gave you a head start, knowing he could catch you without even trying —not only because he was faster than you, but also because you had no real intention of winning that bet. He watched you run through the trees, admiring the way your hair moved in the wind. Only when you disappeared over the horizon did he start to move. He walked at a slow pace at first, sharpening his hearing to follow the sound of your footsteps. But when he caught the scent of your arousal, he couldn't help but pick up his pace. It was like a drug to him, an intoxicating scent that messed with the hormones of the big, bad wolf he had set free.

Geralt let the scent of your floral perfume mixed with the sweet nectar hidden between your legs guide him towards you, an invisible force drawing him closer and closer to his prey. When he reached you, he found you hiding behind a tree, taking advantage of the moment to catch your breath. He heard you gasp as soon as you sensed his presence, holding your breath to avoid making your position known. Geralt smiled to himself, finding your small efforts to remain hidden adorable.

"You can't hide from me, bunny." He spoke, approaching you slowly. "I can hear the sound of your quickened breathing from miles away... smell the scent of your arousal... you want this, so why don't you come out and get this over with."

Geralt was offering you a truce, a chance for things not to escalate any further than they already had. Any sane person in your place would have taken it, it was the reasonable thing to do after taunting the wolf like that. But you were not just anyone. You wanted to face the consequences of your actions. You wanted to face the white wolf that Geralt tried so hard to keep in line. You wanted him to do whatever he wanted with you, that was the point of the game in the first place.

You came out of hiding with your hands up in a feigned sign of surrender. Geralt walked a few steps towards you, eyeing you with suspicion. You held his gaze, trying to hide your true intentions. But in the end the smile on your lips betrayed you, letting him know that you didn't plan to give up easily before you had a chance to run.

You barely made it a couple of steps before you felt the warmth of his body against yours, his arms wrapped tightly around you to keep you from escaping. You squirmed in his grip, trying to free your arms from his strong hold, but it was pointless. Geralt was much bigger and stronger than you, so you weren't going anywhere if he didn't want you to. He pressed you against him, pinning your back to his chest as his hands intertwined over your stomach, effectively imprisoning you against his body. You felt his nose against your neck, sniffing your scent with animalistic desperation. It made you tremble, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your heart pounded with anticipation. You pressed the curve of your ass against the bulge growing in his pants in response and you felt Geralt’s chest vibrate with a repressed moan.

"I got you." he growled against your skin before sinking his teeth into the sensitive area of your neck. "You're mine, bunny. Mine."

"I'm yours," you moaned, relaxing into his arms, tilting your head more so he could have better access to your neck. You wanted him to mark you. You wanted him to claim you as his own. "Please, take me." you begged. It was an airy whisper, but Geralt heard it with perfect clarity. And your consent was all he needed.

In a matter of seconds, your back was pressed against the grass as Geralt hovered over you. His hands were all over your body, lifting your skirt and unbuttoning the ties of your top to expose your breasts. His lips kissed every inch of exposed skin, but there was nothing romantic or sensual about it. It was rough, desperate, Geralt sucked your skin with the intention of leaving marks, sinking his teeth into your flesh as he growled that you belonged to him. It was too much and yet not enough. The pleasure coursing through your body was almost unbearable, but you needed more, you needed to feel all of him.

"You knew exactly what you were doing... calling me that name, making me chase you around." Geralt inserted a finger inside you without warning, earning a moan from you. You were so aroused, so desperate for his touch, that he had no trouble at all pushing deep into your core, moving his digit with ease and reaching up to brush against that sensitive part inside you that turned you into a moaning mess. "This is what you wanted, didn't you bunny? You wanted your big, bad wolf to chase you around and pin you down right in the middle of the woods, huh?"

"Y-yes, f-fuck." you managed to blurt out between moans and quickened breaths. Geralt inserted a second finger inside you and the air got stuck in your throat as the pleasure overwhelmed you. He increased the pace of his movements, showing you no mercy as his fingers moved in and out of you in desperate, almost aggressive movements. You could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, ready to snap at any moment.

"You awakened the wolf on purpose. This is exactly what you wanted, didn't you?" he growled in your ear, playfully biting your ear lobe. You could only reply with an incoherent moan, closing your eyes to focus on the pleasure coursing through your body. But that wasn't enough for him, Geralt wanted to hear you say it. "Answer me!" he demanded and you were forced to open your eyes just by the authority in his voice.

"Yes! I-I wanted this, I-I wanted the wolf to fuck me. Please..." Geralt smiled showing his teeth and you couldn't help but think how much he resembled a real wolf when he looked at you like that. His lips were slightly swollen and covered with saliva after working on marking your skin, his pupils blown wide with arousal. He was looking at you like a wolf looked at its prey, desperate to jump at you and devour his meal.

"Beg for it." He said through gritted teeth. He removed his fingers from inside you, leaving you empty and unsatisfied. It took your pleasure-clouded mind a few seconds to process his words, too focused on the high you'd lost to let out anything more than whimpers of frustration. But that was exactly what Geralt wanted. He wanted to see you completely desperate, surrendered under his body, begging for his touch.

"Please, wolf, I need you... I need to feel you inside me, please." You begged him, looking up at him through your eyelashes. He took his fingers covered with your sweet nectar into his mouth, sucking them clean as he moaned around them. It was the hottest image you had ever seen. He was so focused on the taste of your arousal touching his tongue that for a moment you feared he might not be able to hear your pleas for attention.

“I’m yours to take… please, wolf. I need you.”

The pathetic desperation in your voice was enough for Geralt. He wasted no time, freeing his cock from its confinement and thrusting it into you in one swift movement that left you breathless. He was big and even though your arousal was seeping down your thighs, it always took you a moment to get used to the way he stretched you. He showed you some mercy, giving you a few seconds to adjust while he enjoyed the way your walls closed around his cock. Nothing compared to the warm feeling of your walls wrapped around his cock, pulling him inside you, inviting him to stay. It was the closest he had ever been to heaven, if there was such a thing.

Geralt let out a grunt as you began to move your hips against him, urging him to move. He placed his hands on either side of your head, effectively imprisoning you under his large, imposing figure. Then he gave you a sloppy, wet kiss, biting your lower lip before moving closer to your ear. "Just remember you asked for this." He whispered, sealing your fate.

The rhythm he set was fast and rough, his hips moving against yours desperately. The sheer force of his thrusts was such that you had to cling to his body to keep from sliding upward each time he entered you. It hurt a little, but in the most delicious way. He hit that special place inside you with every thrust of his hips, turning you into an incoherent moaning mess that could do nothing but dig your nails into his back in a desperate attempt to keep you grounded. Pure pleasure coursed through your veins as you felt Geralt pressing deep inside you, filling you and claiming you as his. Your sweat covered skin was on fire, only finding relief when the witcher's cold medallion that dangled over your face made contact with your body.

"Scream! I want to hear you, bunny. I want to know how good I'm making you feel." Geralt demanded and your body instantly obeyed, as if he was the true owner of your mind. "That's it, don't hold back. No one is going to find us here, you can scream all you want. It's just me and you."

The forest filled with your moans and Geralt's animalistic grunts. He couldn't contain himself, seeing you underneath him with your tangled hair full of dry leaves and your watery eyes full of pleasure was too much for him. He couldn't stop the fast rhythm of his hips even if he wanted to. The wolf inside him wanted to ruin you completely, to mark you as his and make sure you were never satisfied with any other man but him. You belonged to him, now and forever. 

"You wanted this, you craved it... my little bunny, desperate to get fucked like a bitch in heat." He growled against the skin of your neck, sinking his teeth into the sensitive area below your ear.

"Yes! F-fuck, please... I'm so close." You begged him, feeling the familiar tingle spreading in your stomach as your toes curled. His fingers traveled to the little bundle of nerves pulsing between your legs, stroking it with rapid circular motions that increased your level of desperation. You were so close to your relief it was almost painful, but you wanted to wait, to hold back your pleasure so you could explode alongside Geralt.

"You want me to fill you up, mark you as mine, huh? Breed you with my pups so everyone knows you're mine?" It was an empty promise and you both knew it. Geralt was sterile and no matter how much he wanted to, he could not father a child. But that didn't make his words any less arousing. The idea of being his and having his child growing in your belly to prove it was so enticing that you couldn't help but entwine your legs around his waist as a way to make sure he didn't slip out from inside you.

"Yes, please! I'm yours, I always will be and I want everyone to know!"

"That's right, you are. And I'm yours." Geralt grunted, leaning his forehead against yours to look you in the eye as he quickened his movements, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he chased the sweet relief. "Can you feel how deep inside you I am?" He took your hand and pressed it against your lower belly, where you could feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. "I'm going to shoot my seed so deep into you, you'll carry it inside you until your belly starts to swell up with my pups inside it. Is that what you want?"

"Yes! Please, give it to me, wolf! I need to feel you, please." You begged with your last breath, almost bursting into tears from the intensity of the pleasure you felt.

Two more thrusts were all it took for Geralt to push you over the edge. You came with a cry of his name, nails digging into the sweaty skin of his back as your warm walls tightened around his cock, forcing him to stay inside you. That was enough to trigger his own relief, his cock twitching inside you as he shot his load deep inside your cunt, painting your walls with pearly white ropes of cum. And yet, he continued to thrust inside you, making your body shake from the overstimulation. He wanted to make sure his seed stayed inside you. He wanted to be able to smell the mix of his relief and yours on you for the rest of the day.

When he finally pulled away you groaned, feeling empty. Geralt let out an airy chuckle as he dropped down next to you, struggling to catch his breath. He pulled you close to him, wrapping his arms around you and resting your head on his chest. Even after all that, he still needed to hold you close, to feel the warmth of your body against his. 

You stayed like that until your breathing returned to normal, reveling in each other's closeness. You were so relaxed in his arms that you might well have fallen asleep if not for Geralt breaking the peaceful silence by clearing his throat.

"We should head back." he murmured, his fingers tracing imaginary lines on the exposed skin of your arm.

"I would if I could move." You joked as you began to feel the pain in your tired muscles. You didn't regret anything, though.

"I'm sorry."

You lifted your head from his chest to look at him, giving him a smile to ease the guilt he might be feeling for hurting you. "Don't be, you did exactly what I wanted you to do." You reached up to kiss him and he gladly reciprocated, cupping your cheek with his free hand so he could deepen the kiss.

However, he pulled away faster than you expected. You whined again, but he ignored you, getting up from the floor and shaking the dirt off his clothes. "It's getting late, we need to go." He said and you huffed. You weren't ready to move yet.

"Geraaalt" you complained, pouting. He looked down at you, ready to scold you, but was distracted by the sight of his artwork in all its glory. Your sweat-covered skin glowed under the afternoon light, highlighting your beauty. Your body was covered in his teeth marks and a trail of reddened hickeys trailed from your neck to your breasts and disappeared under the fabric of your dress. You carried his scent on your body, his seed inside you and his teeth marks on your skin. That alone was enough to awaken the wolf inside him once again, though he held back.

"You look beautiful." He said, kneeling beside you to help you knot the ties in the front of your dress, hiding your breasts and the marks he had made behind the fabric.

The softness in Geralt's eyes was such that you felt the need to hide your face, feeling embarrassed and somehow more exposed than when you were having sex. However, he didn't give you time to react as he quickly pulled you into his arms and made his way back to the hut. You relaxed in his arms, wrapping your hands around the back of his neck and snuggling against his shoulder. 

"I love you." you said in an almost inaudible whisper. It was as if you were speaking more to yourself than for Geralt to hear you. As if the words had escaped your lips as you were lost in thought.

But Geralt's hearing was exceptionally good. And he couldn't help but smile to himself as he heard those words.

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x fem reader #geralt of rivia smut #geralt x reader #the witcher x reader #the witcher smut #geralt of rivia x reader smut #geralt of rivia imagine #henry cavill #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher netflix

[ozzgin]

Yandere!Yokai Harem x Reader Headcanons

Introducing some of the characters Reader will encounter throughout the story. Get to know your monsters in this handy reference booklet!

Fun fact: The names of the characters are quite literally chapters from ‘The Tale of Genji’, one of the earliest existing novels written in the Heian period by noblewoman Murasaki Shibiku. Kiritsubo and Murasaki are your closest companions and bear the names of the main female characters of the story. (They’re men. A little irony.)

The list will be updated as more characters are revealed:

Abe no Nakamaro 阿倍 仲麻呂

Descendant of famous onmyōji Abe no Seimei, Nakamaro rapidly built his own reputation using the powers of yokai he'd captured across the country. His binding powers have yet to be deciphered. It is believed only his own blood can break the contract forged with the legendary beasts.

Known for his ruthlessness, Nakamaro was feared by humans and demons alike. His commissioned portraits often depict him surrounded by dark clouds - a signature detail - emphasizing his evil nature.

As you progress through your journey, you will be plagued by many flashbacks of his cruel deeds. It's almost as if your own hands are tainted by the blood of the yokai standing before you. You vow to free the beasts and prove you are nothing like the vile creature dwelling within your soul.

Kiritsubo 桐壺

The first yokai you encounter. Despite his intimidating appearance, he is the kindest of the group. He is tall and very muscular, with short, straight horns, long silver hair and glowing amber eyes. When he smiles you can spot his sharp, prominent fangs. He has multiple scars on his back, reminiscent of old punishments.

He is a dragon spirit, although his true powers remain unknown. Nakamaro always kept him close and was particularly strict with him, hoping to unlock his dormant potential, to no avail. He begins to show improvement once he embarks on his journey with you. It seems that his desire to protect his new owner was the secret all along.

Kiritsubo is extremely clingy once he gets to know you better. You're kind and patient and nothing like the famous onmyōji before you. He almost can't believe you're part of his reincarnation. He will follow you around everywhere, like a loyal dog, and might be overly touchy sometimes. He can't help it.

Murasaki 紫

Murasaki is the second yokai you meet. He is tall and slender, with long black hair and imposing horns. His deep crimson eyes hold a lot of resentment towards you, or rather whoever lies within you. Despite this, he always holds a disciplined posture and acts very well-mannered.

He used to be Nakamaro's right hand. He is considered to be the most skilled among the legendary yokai. A master of the sword and possessing unmatched intelligence, he served both as an advisor and bodyguard. Always cold and calculated, he rarely shows any hint of emotion. He seems to be quite sarcastic and arrogant.

He doesn't interact much with you in the beginning. In fact, he's most annoyed by the idea of partnering up with a weak human like you. He offers to train you with the sword and teaches you spells and prayers. Despite his complaints, he always protects you from any danger. As you spend more time together, he slowly opens up and might even show signs of attachment.

Suma 須磨

Suma is the biggest of the legendary yokai, towering over everyone with his gargantuan frame. He has bright red hair and large bull horns, with robust features and fierce eyes. He has many tattoos covering his body, going all the way up to his chin.

Suma is a worshipped guardian of war. He lives for battle and is said to reward bravery and courage. Despite this, he has a very approachable personality. He is loud and easygoing, rarely showing signs of distress. He uses a spear when fighting, although he prefers his bare hands. Brute strength is his specialty.

He finds it hilarious that the feared Abe no Nakamaro has been reincarnated into a small girl. He will often joke around with you and challenge you to playfights. When borrowing his powers, you are able to display impressive feats of physical strength. He likes watching you fight and encourages you to train.

Yuugiri 夕霧

Yuugiri is a mysterious yokai. He is pale with rather feminine features, appearing androgynous. He is very elegant and well spoken, although both Kiritsubo and Murasaki have warned you to be wary of him.

He is a serpent spirit, sly and manipulative. He is known for tricking humans and devouring their souls, yet very few can tell his true nature. He is incredibly charismatic and many people fall in love with him, meeting their early demise.

You cannot read him and therefore keep your distance. His twisted smile never leaves his face. He is very interested in you and while his reasoning might be superficial in the beginning, he does become rather attached and tries to prove his honest feelings to you.

Warning: Spoilers ahead!

Sekiya 関屋

One of the yokai that has remained by Abe no Nakamaro's side, in his resting tomb. He is the one that kept his presence concealed, casting a barrier around the temple for the entirety of his master's slumber.

His main power is casting barriers. Sekiya is the one that guards the entrance and guides you towards the onmyōji for your battle. Once you defeat Nakamaro, he joins your group.

He is very reserved, shy and insecure. He cannot fight properly and often bemoans his lack of purpose. Like Kiritsubo, he falls in love with your kind nature and clings to you, hoping to be of use.

Sakaki 榊

The other yokai to guard Nakamaro's tomb, Sakaki has been tasked to keep his master alive.

He has the ability to heal and even revive under certain circumstances. After your fight against Abe no Nakamaro, he offers to heal your fatal wounds and joins your group.

Sakaki is rather gloomy and depressed by nature. He has an unhealthy obsession with death and often makes grim or unusual remarks. He considers you his muse and will sometimes write unsettling poetry dedicated to you.

#female reader #yandere yokai #yokai x reader #yandere oc #yokai harem #yandere harem #yandere original character #original work #yandere x reader #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader

[roosterr]

whatchya got, boy?

note: requested by @wetsocksinbed :D this fic came to me in a prophetic vision as soon as i read that ask, all i have to say is i was cackling maniacally while writing it. bon apetit.

pairing: john 'soap's mactavish x gn!reader

wc: 4.4k

summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.

warnings: angst with a happy ending, canon-typical violence

ao3

soap has never liked dogs.

when people ask him why, he tells them that it's just how he is. he wasn't bitten by one, it's not a trauma response, he just doesn't like them, plain and simple. being in the military and having a phobia of dogs is like painting a giant red target on his forehead, so in the interest of not getting relentlessly made fun of, he keeps it to himself.

until recently, it hasn't been a problem.

then you came along, with your quick wit and charming smile, and he was a goner from the moment you first met.

price had given them your files, told them you and your partner are on loan to the one-four-one for the next few months while they track down a particularly slippery target. the term partner had initially disappointed soap, but then you'd both marched into the room with your heads held high, and he realised;

oh. your partner is a dog.

a german shepherd, to be precise. you're a canine handler, like the universe is playing a trick on him – he hasn't been genuinely interested in someone in god knows how long, and when he finally finds somebody, you're accompanied at all hours by one of the few things he fears.

he's about ready to give up on pursuing you before the briefing is even over, but as the others all stand and file out of the meeting room, your partner comes bounding up to him in all his fanged, furry glory and soap almost has a heart attack.

"he doesn't usually trust strangers," you told him as your dog sits at his feet and wags his tail so hard it might be at risk of dislocation. johnny’s moments away from bolting, the fear climbing up his nerves like constricting vines.

"lucky me, eh?" he smiles at you, which was honestly more like a grimace, but somehow you're not offended by his obvious dislike of your partner. you let out a laugh, and the sound is so melodic he almost forgets about the beast waiting at his heel.

"you can pet him," you grin knowingly, and soap gets the sinking feeling you've figured him out already, "he doesn't bite – not unless i tell him to."

"cheers, but i'll pass…" johnny attempts to protest, in the motion of taking a step back, but you grab his hand before he can escape and drag it down to your dog's face with an amused grin.

"his name's rex." he hears you say, but the way your dog is sniffing at his hand has every muscle in his body tensing involuntarily. he's mortified that you're seeing him react like this, he already knows he'll never be able to live this down once the others find out.

when rex chuffs and starts to lick at his hand, johnny feels like his soul might leave his body. the sharp teeth so close to his skin is so unnerving, the only thing stopping him from making a run for it is your soft grip still around his wrist.

he looks to you for help, but you're watching him with a mischievous grin that sends his heart aflutter.

"see? that wasn't so bad." you chuckle, crouching down next to your dog and thankfully taking rex's attention off him. johnny breathes a quiet sigh of relief, wiping his wet hand on his trousers as he watches you fuss over the canine.

you're endearing, and johnny has to admit that seeing you coo at rex like he's a baby makes him slightly less terrifying.

"price put you up to this?" he asks, holding back a flinch when rex looks up at the sound of his voice.

"he did." you nod, standing back up and meeting his eyes again. "but rex actually does like you. guess you're just charming like that."

"well, thank god for that…" johnny grumbles, his voice dripping with sarcasm. you laugh again, and with the way his pulse quickens, he can't help but send you a cocky grin. "but what i wanna know is, do you like me?"

"hmm…" you feign indecision with a poorly concealed smirk, tapping a finger on your chin before leaning closer and placing a hand on his bicep. "i may need a little more convincing."

after that, johnny can hardly keep himself away from you. 

whenever you're next to him he's got an arm slung over your shoulder, you’re always talking – texting when you’re apart – and any free time he has is spent following you around base, not unlike rex at your heel.

you ask him if he wants to watch you when you train rex, and initially he tries to say no, because he thinks seeing rex practising attacking people might break whatever spell you've cast that makes him not hate the dog; but you drag him along anyway, and he ends up being glad that you did.

it's fascinating, watching rex sniff a shirt from your hand and track down whoever it belongs to with expert precision. it looks almost like a game to the canine, the way his tail swings back and forth the whole time as he effortlessly completes any task you give him.

he finds the dummies you hide with ease, even when they're buried under piles of boxes and clothes and various other obstacles. johnny actually finds himself respecting the dog, which is shocking since a few weeks ago he never would've been able to handle even being in the same room as one.

you give johnny the treats to feed rex, which makes him nervous all over again when the canine looks up at him with wide eyes and all his sharp teeth on display. it takes some coaxing from you, but eventually he gets comfortable enough to let rex take a treat from his hand. he may not admit it, but the only reason he even lets rex get so close is because you're there. simply your presence gives him the courage, makes him feel secure.

"when this is over," johnny begins, hand twitching under rex's tongue and looking at you with such fondness it feels like his heart is about to burst, "i'll take you out proper, treat you right."

you blink at him, surprised, but not a moment later a wide smile is taking over your face. "i look forward to it, mactavish."

the others, particularly gaz and ghost, give him hell for how infatuated he's become with you, but their teasing doesn't deter him. he likes you, and he doesn't care if everybody knows it; you like him too, and that's all he really cares about.

now, sitting in the heli on the way to what they hope will be the final location for this mission, he was almost disappointed to be done with it. you were only on loan for this mission, so once they have their target, you'd be gone. he was hoping, optimistically, that once everything was said and done he could convince you to stay with the one-four-one. he was sure he could talk price into it, and though it was selfish of him, he just wanted you to stay by his side.

you're sitting next to him in the back of the aircraft, rex between your legs with his head resting on your thigh, staring up at johnny with those big brown eyes. without even thinking, he reaches a hand out and ruffles the fur on his head, earning a nudge and an adoring smile from you when he looks over.

"he might like you better than me," you tease, scratching behind rex's ear who was yet to take his eyes off of johnny.

"don't be jealous now, bonnie." he chuckles, returning the nudge to your shoulder. "you can have 'im on weekends."

you grin again and lightly shake your head, taking rex's face in your hands and bending over to press a kiss to the top of his head. "you love me the most, right boy?"

before long, the helicopter is landing and the five of you – plus rex – are following the captain out into the forest. it's cold when they exit the heli, night vision goggles highlighting the terrain through the darkness of the night.

the silence buzzes as you all stalk through the trees. johnny pays more attention to you than he should as you walk beside him, anxiety lighting up his nerves for how this mission will go.

as according to the plan, once the manor is in sight, you all split off into teams of two; him and ghost, price and gaz, and you and rex. he trusted you to do well, like you have been doing for the last few months, but he can't help the way his shoulders tense as he watches you disappear around the corner.

the building is guarded, which was expected of course, but they only had to take down a dozen or so guards until the place was barren.

the corridors were eerily deserted, bathed in a moonlit glow as johnny crept around the manor, following closely behind ghost with both of their heads on a swivel. the radio was quiet, by design for the mission plan, but somehow this time felt different, like they wouldn't hear him if he did call out.

it's the beeping that gives it away. so faint, he almost missed it, but his senses are sharpened like a blade – and as a demolitions specialist, he knows the sound of an explosive when he hears it.

johnny carefully pushes open the door to his right, scanning the room for any movement and finding none, but when his gaze lands on the centre of the room, his pulse skips a beat.

propane canisters, fuse linking them all together, and most concerning, a timer on top blinking at him; two minutes, ticking down with a sickening green glow.

"ghost," he calls, his voice hard and serious as the anxiety builds again, "it's rigged."

ghost steps into the doorway next to him, following johnny's arm as he points to the device.

"fuck." he spits, stepping back and clicking the radio on his vest, but no sound comes out. ghost curses again, looking back to johnny with a tense expression that the sergeant mirrors. "radios aren't workin' either. let's move, c'mon."

there's no room for argument in his tone, marching back the way they came with johnny in tow.

as they emerge back out into the night, price and gaz appear from around the corner, both lifting their goggles and approaching with concern evident on their faces.

"what happened?" price's gaze darts around behind them as he speaks, as if waiting for someone to jump out and attack.

"the place is rigged, we have to go." ghost explains, already moving past them and away from the manor.

the captain nods, gesturing for johnny and gaz to follow as he tries his radio with no luck, just like ghost. the pit of anxiety lingered, getting heavier by the second.

"move it, soap." price commands, a deep frown creasing his brow.

but johnny doesn't move. "hold on, where's k-9?" he asks, a frown of his own pulling his features downwards.

"radios are down, we don't have time to look for 'em." ghost calls over to them, earning a solemn nod from the captain, who tries to move him with a hand on his shoulder.

the radios are down, you have no way of knowing the building is rigged. there's no way johnny's about to leave you on your own in the blind, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did.

"no. i'm not leavin' without 'em." johnny growls, his face morphing into a frown as he brushes off the captain's arm and turns to go back inside.

"they might already be outside." gaz tries to reason, stepping in front of him and blocking him from the doorway. kyle's regretful gaze cuts through him, and there's the distinct feeling that everyone else has already given up on you. "we have to move, mate."

johnny scoffs. "fuck that! i can't just leave 'em!" he hisses, insulted by the very idea of leaving one of their own to fend for themselves. no, that's not how they operate, that's not how he operates.

a flash of anger shoots through him and he's about to shove past gaz, but before he can move, price is yanking him away.

"soap!" he growls, shaking him slightly as he grabs johnny's other arm. "get it together, you are not goin' back in there."

before he can argue, he's being grabbed by ghost and dragged away from the manor with him as the other two jog ahead of them into the treeline. 

"oi!" johnny shouts, struggling in the lieutenants iron grip, but to no avail. ghost practically drags him along as he digs his heels into the dirt, writhing in an attempt to escape and go back for you.

he's desperate, he can't lose you, not before he takes you on that date, he promised, you can't die yet–

johnny blinks, the deep, rumbling boom completely derailing his thoughts and starting a piercing ringing in his ears.

white hot fire bursts from the windows of the manor, showering the surrounding area in shards of glass and debris as the heat escapes the building in waves. 

no.

everything seemed to stop around him. ghost stopped trying to drag him away, the trees stopped blowing in the wind, he almost stopped breathing. the world pauses as the walls of the manor are engulfed in flames.

no.

johnny rips his arm out of ghost's grip and stumbles back towards the manor, his mind floating out of his body.

"no!" johnny wails, ignoring the heat on his face and taking a shaky step over the jagged stone and glass that crunches under his boot, "no! they're still–" his voice breaks, "they're still in there, for fucks sake!"

"johnny!" ghost shouts, grabbing him by the strap on the back of his vest and yanking him sharply away from the blaze. "they're gone." he mutters, purposefully avoiding soap's glassy eyes.

"shut the fuck up!" he cries, thumping his fist against ghost's chest and clawing at the arm holding him back. the tears spill from his eyes hard and fast, constricting his throat and blurring his vision.

he falls to his knees with his head in his hands and ghost lets him, the debris that litters the ground sharp against his flesh, but nothing compared to the pain in his chest.

it wasn't supposed to go like this.

you were supposed to come back, and he was supposed to take you out and give you a perfect date and he'd kiss you at the end of the night and now he'd never get to do any of that because–

you're gone. slipped through his fingers like sand into the ocean.

"c'mon, johnny." he hears ghost mutter, his voice distant even though he's right there, pulling him to stand by his arm. "let's regroup."

he doesn't struggle this time, shaking himself free of his lieutenant's grip and shuffling past him with his head hanging low. if there was a god, he's sure they're laughing at him by now. it all felt like some kind of cruel joke; give him hope by granting him someone to love after all these lonely years, and then rip you out of his arms before he can know the happiness you would bring him.

he and ghost don't get far before he hears the lieutenant stop in his tracks, but he doesn't care to know why, the hollow feeling in his chest won't allow him to.

"the dog…" ghost utters from behind him, an air of disbelief in his monotone voice. johnny freezes, a cold dread travelling up his spine as he hears the unmistakable sound of rex's claws padding towards them.

he turns slowly on his heel, fresh tears welling up in his eyes.

your dog is standing in front of him.

"rex…?" he calls softly, taking in the dust and ash and dirt and blood caked into his rich brown fur, illuminated by the fire still raging. rex barks, tilting his head like he's confused, and johnny falls to his knees again, uncaring for the way the rubble tears through his trousers and his skin. "no, no no no no–"

rex is alone. you're not with him. he doesn't go anywhere without you, and that can only mean one thing.

the confirming thought alone shatters the dam completely.

the sobs wrack his body and johnny gathers rex into his arms, hugging him tightly to his chest, burying his face into his thick fur despite the filth that coats the both of them. he whimpers and whines in johnny's ear, and the sound only makes his heart hurt even more.

a few months ago he never would've dreamed he'd be hugging a dog, but you changed that; you'd helped him work on his fear, and even if rex was the only one he could tolerate, it was still leagues better than what he could accomplish without you.

but now you’re gone, and neither of them have you to fall back on.

johnny sinks his fingers deep into rex's fur, sniffling pathetically because he may have lost you, but your canine lost his entire world and he would never understand where you went, why you left him all alone, why you weren’t coming back.

rex begins to wriggle in his arms, and soap knows he wants him to let go but he can't bring himself to. this dog is all he has left of you now; he would take care of your beloved canine, it doesn't matter if he was still terrified in the back of his mind.

after a painful few minutes, jonny regains the awareness to remember where they are and the fact that ghost is still watching him break down with the dog in his arms. with a trembling sigh, he loosens his hold on rex and pulls back, wiping a dusty hand over his eyes.

as he pushes himself to stand rex barks again, startling johnny with a jolt of panic before bounding back the way he came, away from him and ghost.

johnny frowns. "hey, don't run," he mutters, ambling after the canine as he pads backwards. every time johnny gets close, rex slips just out of reach before he can grab him.

ghost sighs, but allows him to go after the dog, keeping a watchful eye on them as they get further away.

the way he was running along and looking back to make sure johnny was following reminded him a worrying amount of how he acted in his training. the training where you would hide a dummy for him and johnny would reward him with treats when he led you to the fake body.

"no, no rex," except this time, the body wouldn't be fake. "please, boy, just come back…"

rex doesn't react to his pleading, determined to lead him to what johnny knows he’s found, but desperately wants to deny anyway. he tries to stop, to turn back and never have to face the reality of you being gone, but the canine won't let him. he takes johnny's trousers between his razor teeth and growls, deep and threatening, as he tries to pull him along.

the sound makes johnny freeze, fear clawing at the back of his mind as an instinctual reaction, but he blinks hard and pushes through it. "alright, i'm comin'..."

rex lets go once he’s sure he’ll follow again, trotting ahead with the occasional check behind him to make sure johnny was still there. he follows the canine past the rubble, through the treeline, and into the underbrush where the sick feeling in his throat only grows stronger.

he doesn't bother with the night vision goggles. the fire provides enough waving light for him to just about see where he’s going, and he really has no desire to see what rex is guiding him to.

johnny almost trips over him when the canine comes to an abrupt stop, his wide eyes trained on a bush to johnny’s left.

the dread pooling in his stomach becomes suffocating.

"wh…?" he swallows thickly, crouching down to rex's level and placing a hand on his back, feeling his laboured breath that matches his own. "...whatchya got, boy?"

rex barks and noses at the branches of the bush, before stepping backwards a few paces and looking expectantly between johnny and the shrub.

johnny stares at the bush. no amount of training could've prepared him for the terror he feels imagining what he’ll find on the other side of it. as if sensing his hesitation, rex barks again to spur him on, but it only makes his heart sink further.

his hand shakes as he reaches for the branches. there's a stutter in his heartbeat, a hitch in his breath, as he pushes them aside to reveal–

"bleedin' fuckin' jesus–" johnny cries, jumping through the foliage to couch over your weakened form, forgetting his fear all together as he ruffles rex's fur with both hands and a breaking smile when he barks again. "oh good boy rex! good boy, fuckin' hell!"

it's you, blood and ash smeared across your skin and your chest rises and falls in shallow breaths, and johnny's just so happy you're alive he can't think to be afraid when rex snaps at his hands in a misdirected effort to protect you. he presses both hands against the slice in your abdomen, using the few medical supplies in his vest to help stop the bleeding as the tears being to well again.

"shit, stay with me, hun, i've got ye…" he mumbles, putting all his weight onto your stomach. "ghost! help me!"

the rest is a blur.

they carry you to the helicopter, rex barking protectively between their legs the whole way until he can lay on guard between your legs on take off.

when they finally touch down back at base, johnny has to grab rex by the vest so the medics can carry you out, wrestling him away as he barks and whines in protest. johnny stays with the canine while you're in surgery and for the days you're asleep, making sure he's fed and allowing him to sleep in his room so he won’t be alone – despite how uncomfortable it makes him, and how little sleep he gets because of it.

it's four days until you wake up.

he's not the first to find out, but as soon as the words reach his ears he’d racing down the corridors and bursting through the infirmary doors with enough intensity to make you jump out of your skin. the sight of you sitting up and talking to price almost has his eyes watering again, but he pushes that urge down.

he approaches your bed more carefully, a wobbly smile pulling at his lips under your warm gaze. with an understanding look, price is patting him on the shoulder as he passes by and leaving the two of you alone with each other.

"aren't you a sight for sore eyes," johnny grins, taking a seat in the chair next to your bed and grasping your hand in his. a smile lifts your features as he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss there as a heat rises in his cheeks.

"i could say the same, my knight in shining armour." you reply, moving your hand to cradle the side of his head and smoothing your thumb over his brow. he revels in the contact, the tension bleeding from his muscles under your touch. "where's rex?"

"he's fine, i made sure." he reassures you, and you let out a sigh of relief at his words, visibly relaxing into the pillows holding you up. "tried sneakin' him in here, but the nurses wouldn't have it."

a laugh escapes you, the sound still managing to make his heart feel light, even all these months later. "can't imagine why," you tease, gently nudging his head as he chuckles along with you.

it feels like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, finally having you with him again. his eyes flutter shut as the relief washes over him, and a minute passes where neither of you speak, simply basking in each other's presence.

there's a scratching sound at the door that interrupts the peace and quiet, and the two of you share a knowing smile. not a moment later, the door is being pulled open just enough for rex to slip through and skid towards your bed on the linoleum floor, wagging his tail at breakneck speed.

before the door can completely close, johnny catches a glimpse of gaz’s mischievous grin and groans, but he doesn't have time to yell at him before he’s out of sight and rex is distracting him by leaping onto your bed.

you wheeze as your canine braces his paws on your chest and begins his assault on your face, licking every inch of skin he can reach with a series of excited chuffs and narrowly missing johnny’s head with his swinging tail.

"hi rex! you saved my life, didn’t you boy?" you giggle, affectionately ruffling his fur and planting kisses of your own on his face. "who’s a good boy? who’s the best sniffer dog ever?"

johnny clears his throat, drawing your attention to him as you cuddle rex to your chest. "i don’t want’a blow my own horn here, but i saved yer life too…" he gives you that lopsided grin, a playful glint in his eyes that makes you laugh again.

"you want some pets too?" you chuckle, reaching over and dragging his head over to you by a hand on the back of his neck. "good job, johnny, you’re a good boy too." you coo, pressing your lips to his forehead and the tip of his nose as you ruffle his mohawk like rex’s fur.

the effect is immediate. his cheeks burn again with a striking red blush, and he chokes on his breath in bashful embarrassment under your ministrations. he hopes you haven't noticed his reaction, but the way your laugh bubbles up again he can tell you’ve caught on.

"i think i like that more than i should, bonnie." he mutters, pressing his forehead against yours and allowing his eyes to flutter shut. you hum sweetly, your warm breath fanning over his face.

"don’t short circuit on me yet, soap, you still owe me a date."

tagging: @cheezbites

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #mw2 #cod mw2 #call of duty #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes

[frogchiro]

HII HII ur writing is perf 4 this idea but you don’t hav 2 do it !! i js thought of u <3 little red riding hood reader & big bad wolf (ko, ghost, price) any cod guy & i think it’s js soo cute !!!

[art by doujinpearl]

ARE YOU KIDDING ME THIS IS SO CUTE??? YOU NEVER MISS LOVE!!! And thank you it really means a lot to me that you like my silly writing <33

tw// horror elements and this has like one mention of a 'off-screen' death but no one major

I think I'm gonna go with König for this one?? Bc something about him just screams big bad wolf to me y'know? Also for the sake of this story, König is described like on the pics above, so his lower half is life a literal werewolf.

okay also i'm putting this under the cut because this somehow grew into a whole fic?? My dear @9irly9irl if you see this know that I love you and this was so. freaking. enjoyable to write??? I love this so much??? Also I'm sorry for the horror themes but I'm getting ready for October and the gloomy weather outside made me do this. I hope you still enjoy and PLEASE send me more for this au!!

Big bad wolf König who is on the prowl for some time now, he's on a hunt for you, the sweet girl who lives alone with her mother on the edge of the dark forest your good old momma always tells you to stay away from and for good reason. The townsfolk from the villages around whisper in fear and dread about a monster lurking in the woods, half man-half wolf with an insatiable taste for blood; they call the beast König, the undisputed King.

And honestly? König likes that rep. It means less annoying pests wandering around his territory safe for a groups of young guys from time to time who think they have the balls to try and 'kill the beast' but they are dealt with...pretty quickly.

But no, König has his glowing eyes set on something more...Exquisite. On something soft and pliable, sweet smelling and so so pretty. Namely on you. The werewolf guesses he has to be thanking his lucky starts or whatever bullshit that while sniffing around your cottage he overheard your mother talking about going out into the forest to bring her sickly mother, your grandma, a basket full of food and some other supplies and being the sweet little thing that you are, you of course cried and volunteered to go yourself, that your mother is already older and that you will make quick work of it.

König swears that day that his blood never rushed downward to his dick so fast. You, soft little you, all alone in his forest? His territory?? It's like you're begging to get taken and mated! The trek from your cottage to your grandma's home would take you about 2-3 days as she lives deep in the woods, the perfect timing for him to reveal himself and take you away for himself into his den in the darkest parts of the forest where you will have the perfect life with him! No more worrying about food or warmth during the cold, dreary winter months, he is more than a capable provider for his future mate, not to mention your future litter of happy yipping pups you will birth for him! It's a perfect plan!

And so he waits. And waits. And waits until the day you finally leave with your cute basket in tow and a tearful goodbye with your mommy dear that you will return as soon as possible. Yea, sure sweetheart.

I think he'd reveal himself by the time it's getting nighttime, when the sun sets, the air is getting cold and a ominous darkness sets over the forest where your trembling body sits in a makeshift nest made of a blanket and a thick animal pelt under a old, big tree. Everything seems so loud, the cries of nocturnal animals sound much more bleak and unnerving, not to mention the weird, chilling feeling of...something following you. Like there were a pair of eyes trained on you since a few weeks ago but you never mentioned this to your poor mother as you didn't want to worry her, but the feeling only amplified ever since you left your home and went on a trip to your grandmother.

You couldn't help the loud yelp you let out when suddenly a pair of glowing golden eyes appeared in the small clearing around the tree; a pair of glowing, unblinking orbs that seemed to be suspended in the air in the surrounding darkness, the weak fireplace you managed to make doing basically nothing to light up the area and your poor little heart started to beat like crazy when you noticed the eyes moving forward, closer and closer to you until the light finally caught what was moving towards you...or more like who.

It was an enormous man, easily over 7ft tall, his broad, bulky shoulders moving as he stood from the position he was in to his full height and those ominous glowing eyes still were unblinking as they stared at you like you were just some lamb and...you probably were.

The one thing that somehow stood out the most, even amidst literally everything else unnatural about this man, were a pair of ear on top of his head, which only now you noticed was covered in some sort of tattered old hood with holes for the eyes and ears, and a huge fluffy tail which was wagging faster anytime you seemed to look the man over, but what really brought it all together was his lower half...it-it was all fur. His legs were that of some bipedal wolf and in that moment a silent scream tried to make its way out of your throat; it was König, the brutal and unforgiving beast that resided in the surrounding forests, the one that people tell horror stories about around campfire and...he was here. He was here before you to tear you apart and leave nothing behind, not even bones.

Tears were streaming down your face, a look of utter defeat on it because after all, what more could you do? You can't possibly fight him, you can't outrun him, hiding is out of the picture too...You were ready to feel the unimaginable pain of those jaws locking themselves on your throat and draining you of your life but the you felt...warmth? A slick, warm feeling on your cheek and when you opened your eyes a bit you saw what it was. It was König, or more like his long tongue licking away at your cheek in an almost comforting matter, his wide unblinking eyes still trained on you though his pupils seemed to grow in size, now taking over most of the glowing yellow and when he deemed you to be clean of your tears, a large crooked nose with a scar running across it nudged into your cheek and took a deep sniff to get your scent. A stray thought ran through your mind when you took a closer look at his uncovered face and noticed another huge scar across his face and a few smaller ones, who or what in their right mind got close enough to inflict such wounds on someone like König?

When you stayed still and just stared at him wide eyed and out of breath König let out a deep growl like purr of content; he could hear your small aborted breaths still coming out quick and your heart fluttering in your chest like a small erratic bird but he could see that you were a tiny bit calmer now and not on the brink of hysterics like a few seconds before. He couldn't help but grin in delight, a nasty, wide thing that revealed rows of sharp teeth. He finally had you. He had you exactly where he wanted and now you were his. Well not completely yet, you two would need to mate first but still, everyone had to start somewhere right? For now he had you calmed down even for a bit, showed you that he wasn't a threat to you and wasn't going to hurt you. It was still only the night of the first day of your travels and he will offer to guide you, he couldn't possibly allow such a cute young lady to just wander around the deep dark forest all alone, right?

Of course he won't mention it that he will be herding you away from the path and instead guide you deeper and deeper into the heart of the woods where his den in. He won't mention it that he will be making very obvious and insistent advances at you, insisting on staying close at all times and wrapping his huge body around you at night for warmth, nosing and nudging at you to cover you in his scent and maybe make you a little bit hot under that deliciously low neckline of the dress that you're wearing, the cape in a lovely shade of red acting like a blanket to shield you away when König is nosing at your neck and bosom, greedy for all the tiny, shy, flustered noises you make, greedy for making you all hot and ready for him.

And of course he certainly won't mention to you about your poor old granny's corpse, rotting for weeks already in her old, decaying house where she died of some illness or old age. No, no, your new life is here, with him. Forever.

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #hybrid au #werewolf!könig #red riding hood au #könig x reader #könig #konig x reader

[deepdarkdelights]

As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader

Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 21k

Warnings: 18+, Spice but no Smut, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Grieving, Passive Suicidality, MC experiences major depression, Non-Consensual Touching, Breaking and Entering, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Technically Cannibalism? Loss of Spouse, Loss of Child, Forced Found Family, Hunting, Mass Death, Attempted Burning and the stake, MC is hit by a man (not Yoongi)

I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 

Preview: You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 

It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.

A/N: I’m exhausted and grad school sucks but I really wanted to get this out for your guys. I hope you enjoy it, I spent way more time on it than I wanted to. I really thought it was only going to be 8k yet here we are…21k. Anyway, I miss all of you - sorry this is so long lol, this is SUPER UNEDITED. As usual, I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and comments, I love you and hope you enjoy 

The sweet scent of flowers greeted your nose as you cracked open the window for the first time in months. 

Despite the warmth of sunshine and the bright green strokes of grass outside, it very well could have still been winter. It felt as if no time had passed since that fateful day. In your heart, winter still raged on. There were gnarled, ice-coated branches there and a torrent of never-ending snow. It had frozen over since then. 

You carried this sense of numbness you had never thought you would be capable of, it was as if your very soul had been corroded by frostbite. Any love or passion or warmth had been snuffed out like a match in the dark. 

That was the thing about grief, it could change a person into something that was beyond recognition. And your grief was immeasurable. 

When you got married, you never imagined your husband would die within the first year. 

It truly had been a cruel winter that year. The two of you were making do with what food you had. He had always been so smart, planning out what you could have each day so that it would last until spring. The only problem was the fire wood. No one could have anticipated how cold it was going to be and if you hadn’t burned as much kindling as you did you were certain you would have frozen to death. 

You could still remember that gentle look he had given you before he left. The soft touch of his fingers to your cheek, the gentle kiss he left you with. He still had every ounce of charm he had had as a boy. He had always been kind and sweet to you. He was the gentlest man you had ever known. That was why his death hurt even more. 

You had been worried the minute he left, but as minutes bled into hours and the winter sun quickly disappeared behind the mountains you were frightened to the bone. He had only an ax and a knife with him. He brought no food and no more clothing than what was on his back. He was planning on making a short trip and if he didn’t come back right away the chances of him surviving the night were slim to none. 

His body was found the next day. 

Honestly, you didn’t remember that day all too well. Everything was a blur, you could faintly remember hearing the voices of a few men from the village, the feeling of your raw throat after screaming senselessly, and the surplus of food and supplies that were sent your way with small slips of paper that read: “Our condolences.” 

They wouldn’t let you see his body and that was something you would never forgive them for. You didn’t care how bad it was, you wanted to see him with your own eyes and you were never afforded that closure. But you had heard enough from hushed whispers outside. 

“Pieces,” they had said. 

He had been mauled to pieces. They couldn’t even find all of him and what was left of him had huge teeth marks raked through flesh. It was an animal attack. Just like you and your husband, they were hungry. 

And now you were all alone. You were a pariah, one that people pitied, but a pariah nonetheless. You would never be able to marry again, not that you wanted to, but no one would want a widow as their wife. That was the way of things, you were meant to live out the rest of your days in solitude. Nothing more than a sad story mother’s would tell their children as you passed through the markets in silence. Your story would become a warning for children not to wander off into the woods. Your tragedy would become a lesson. 

The only lesson that you had learned was that love meant pain. You had given yourself to someone entirely, and when they had parted from you, you were left with nothing. That was the danger of love, losing yourself. 

After months of wishing you had followed him out of this world, you were hit with the sudden clarity that you were being selfish. He had left to try and save the both of you, but here you were wasting the life he had given you. He had sacrificed himself in order for you to keep living for the both of you. 

Choosing to live was so much harder than choosing to die. 

You shoved those horrendous thoughts to the back of your mind as you traveled through your small cottage, prying open every stiff window that you passed by. Living meant starting with the little things, like getting your home in order. It didn’t feel the same without him, but at least now that it was warmer out you wouldn’t have to stay inside and constantly be reminded of his absence. 

You stripped your bed, gathered up the used linens, and scooped up piles of worn clothes from the floor before depositing them in the basket. You were distracting yourself, that much you were certain of. But any distraction was welcome, you couldn’t bear the silence filled thoughts of him any longer. 

You heaved the basket up onto your hip and made for the door, pausing as you were faced with the blooming greenery beyond the threshold. The breeze was cool, the air was fresh. The world was starting over once again, why was it so hard for you? 

You shook the troubling thought from your head, squared your shoulders, and took a deep breath. You could at least try. And so, you stepped outside for the first time in months and faced the world. It was almost like nothing changed. The birds still chirped, the insects sang, and the rush of the river called from a distance. 

That was the other thing about grief. While it felt like your world ended, in reality, it still rushed onward. 

The soft grass sunk beneath your feet and sprung back to life as you walked, your body tense as you approached the forest. You weren’t going in too far, it was just the edge where the trees were still spread out and not too thick. You just needed to get to the river. But you couldn’t deny the sense of paranoia that was set in your bones. This was where he died, where he was mauled and consumed by whatever inhabited the forest. It would make sense that whatever animal that had ended his life was still prowling in the shadows, waiting for its next meal. 

“Stop it,” You snapped at yourself, your voice hoarse from lack of use and louder in the soft sounds of nature. 

You weren’t going far, you were going to be safe. There was no reason to be so anxious when you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. You weren’t walking into the lion's den, you were doing laundry. 

Despite your scolding, you still snapped your head in every direction when you finally reached the river. You were unsettled by every little noise, hyper aware of everything that was going on around you. For a task that was so mundane, you felt so on edge. 

The rush of icy water against your hands was enough to help you focus on the task at hand. The river had finally unfrozen. While your husband and yourself frequently bathed in the river during the warmer months, you had no plans on doing that anytime soon lest you be chilled to the bone and catch your death. Maybe when you were younger you would have risked it all for a moment of fun. But you were older now, matured by time and tragedy. It was harder to have fun now. 

You threw the shirt you were washing on a rock beside you, the force of the toss resulting in a loud, wet slap. Your body bent forward under an oppressive imaginary weight as your icy fingers braced your face, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips causing your body to sink even further. 

Living for two people was going to be even harder than you thought. Even these simple, menial tasks felt exhausting. It had been a miracle you had been able to drag yourself out of bed, that you had made it outside, that you had even journeyed to the river. But those things should be easy, so why did they feel so hard? 

You felt weak.

Useless. 

Helpless. 

You couldn’t help but think had the roles been reversed, he would have been stronger than you. He would have mourned but he would have been able to survive. He would have been able to find another wife, he would have had the children he always wanted, and he could have been happy. It was hard to not feel like it should have been you, like you were just wasting the life he had given you. It was hard to not crumble beneath the crashing waves of grief that eroded your resolve. 

It was too hard. 

A high pitched whimper broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hands dropping to your lap and your head snapping to attention. You held your breath and pursed your lips, listening closely to try and hear the sound again. 

And there it was again. Although this time it was much louder and much longer. It sounded like something was in pain. And your curiosity got the better of you. 

You shifted your basket to the side and stood, gathering your skirts in one hand as you carefully lept from stone to stone as you crossed the river. Your heart raced as you slipped once then twice, the stones slick from the rushing water, but the cries were becoming louder and closer and you felt as if you had no other choice but to find out what they were coming from. 

Once you crossed the river, you moved slowly through the grass so as to not startle whatever it was that was frightened. Every now and then you would pause and hold your breath, listening intently for the creature's cries before following them once more. You could just barely make out the shape of the animal, its body concealed by a thick underbrush of branches, leaves, and thorns. 

You dropped down to your knees with abandon and blindly reached into the shrubbery. The cries were much louder now as the creature was startled by your invading hands. Thorns raked through your flesh as you grabbed hold of the small furry body and pulled, trying your hardest to gently remove the little animal. A loud cry made you stop, halting all of your progress. It looked like it was tangled up in something. 

You quickly moved on to your second plan and softly placed the animal back down before grabbing thorn laced branches and snapping them with your bare hands. You hissed in pain as blood beaded up from the small cuts that now decorated your palms. You couldn’t fathom where this sudden rush of determination came from or why you felt like you so desperately needed to do this. That same rush that came over you to find the animal was present and even stronger with the desire to free it. You felt it on some deeper level, that you just couldn’t leave it behind. 

There was a generous pile of branches beside you now and you could very clearly see what you were dealing with. It looked like a puppy. It was very small with soft chocolate brown fur, a short nose, and the cutest pointed ears. Its big brown eyes were welled up with tears, its tail tucked between its legs, and its entire body shook in fright. 

Your horror stricken gasp was muffled as you involuntarily covered your mouth in surprise. The poor pup was tangled up in a snare. The wire was cinched tightly around its hind leg, chest, and foreleg, cutting in so tightly that blood was visible on the metal. The poor thing had run right into the trap and was stuck. You could only hope that it wasn’t intended for the puppy, that it had run into some hunter’s trap purely by accident. 

Your already lacerated hands went straight back to work trying as you attempted to untangle the snare as gently as you could. You hissed as it sliced your palms but paused only a moment to wipe the blood off on your pinafore before continuing your work. By the time you had finally managed to undo the trap, beads of sweat clung to your neck and the sun had moved a decent way across the sky. 

“There you go,” You murmured, “you’re free.” 

The puppy, although now free, didn’t move. Its deep brown eyes stared up at you as it continued to whine, its entire body still shaking with unadulterated fright. 

“Can you walk?” You asked, sitting back on your calves to get a better look at the animal.

You were shocked when it responded, in a way. The puppy attempted to stand and then walk, but it only made it two steps with a clear limp before it collapsed flat on its belly with a yipe. 

“Of course you can’t, I’m sorry,” You cooed as you reached out. Your hand paused in midair, hesitating before trying to touch the puppy. It was probably a wild dog, so it was not a good idea to go touching an animal that very well could bite you, no matter how cute it was. 

The puppy, as if it had read your mind, answered for you by leaning forward and sniffing your fingers with a cold, wet nose, before lapping at them with its little tongue. It was like any other puppy then, it wasn’t aggressive yet. 

You chewed your lip in thought as you watched the pup. It wasn’t a good idea to take in stray animals, but it was injured and leaving it in the forest would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the predators in the area. All of the blood the pup and yourself had shed was certainly not helping. And then there was the crippling loneliness of your cottage. A dog would be good for that. It would be something to share the space with, something to break up the cacophonous silence. And, when it grows older, it would be good for protection as well. The benefits outweigh the negatives you selfishly refused to think of. 

With the pup’s approval, you lifted it up and cradled it into your side much like a mother would her child. You giggled in delight from the feeling of a wet nose burrowing its way into your shoulder and neck, sniffing the cloth of your dress and your skin like it was trying to become accustomed to you. 

You crossed the river even slower now on your way back, very aware of the precious animal you were protecting. When you stopped at the river bank, you gathered your abandoned laundry and placed the puppy in the basket. You didn’t really care about the dirt, grass, and blood that would inevitably stain the fabrics - afterall, they still needed to be cleaned and you had much more pressing issues to attend to. 

You walked back with a sudden urgency in your steps, a small trill of excitement buzzing in your being. After months of isolation and misery, something so small had brought you joy, something that had been unimaginable a few hours before. 

The pup was much calmer now, softly panting instead of crying as it laid in your basket of sheets, eyeing the world that passed by as you brought the two of you back to your cottage. When you made it inside, you shut the bottom half of the door, leaving the top half open to allow fresh air in without the risk of the pup wandering out and falling down the stone steps. When you placed the basket on the ground it nosed at the sheets for a moment before limping out of the basket. 

“No, no, no, stay right there,” You chided, gently scooting it back into the sheets, “you’ll hurt yourself worse if you do that.” 

You stayed a moment, locking eyes with the pup to ensure that it would stay and understand. When you were certain that it was calmed you finally turned your back and headed into the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the healing salves and creams you knew had been there months before along with the strips of makeshift bandages. 

Within mere moments of turning your back on the puppy you were alerted once more by its cries. It had tried following you again but was now laying in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the sheet and crying from the pressure it applied on its wounds. 

You dropped the bandages and rushed to the pup, cooing as you picked it up and cradled it against your chest. The little thing was an escape artist, that was certain. 

You let out a deep sigh as an uncomfortable thought brewed in your mind. It was the only option that you could think of, even though it was terribly unpleasant. Before you could dwell too much you headed towards the back of the cottage where a single door was fixed into the frame. It stuck at your first pull but relented on the second, the hinges creaking in defeat as you entered the room. 

Any furniture that was in the room was coated with a thin layer of dust having gone undisturbed for months. That old wound in your heart was bleeding around the edges now, the pain of avoided thoughts bubbling back up to the surface. 

There was a crib against the far wall of the bedroom. 

You swiftly moved to the back of the room and gently placed the pup inside the crib. The sides were high enough that the injured dog would be unable to climb over and you were confident that this was the safest place for the poor thing. 

But even that knowledge couldn’t stop tears from pricking at the corner of your eyes as your hands subconsciously cradled your belly. Your pregnancy had been short lived. Losing your husband had been the catalyst to losing your child, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. Even though the midwife had promised you it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t see how that could be true. If you had been stronger, if you had taken better care of yourself, you would have been able to save that last piece of him. 

If you hadn’t been pregnant, maybe things would have been different. Your husband would have stayed and you would have figured out how to make it through the rest of the winter. But you had been pregnant, he had left to find more resources because of that, and even though he sacrificed his life for you and your unborn child you hadn’t been able to save them. 

You couldn’t see how any of this wasn’t your fault when you were at the center of it all. 

The feeling of cool tears rolling down your cheeks shocked you back to reality. You weakly wiped the tears away, sniffed, and shook your head. You needed to clean yourself and the pup up, you had priorities. 

You rushed around the cottage, busying yourself with what needed to be done. You ran to the water pump and wet some rags, retrieved the salves and bandages, and grabbed a bowl of poultry meat for the dog. This was a welcome distraction. 

You were greeted by excited, squeaky barks when you returned to the abandoned nursery. The pup eagerly paced back and forth, its little tail wagging so hard its entire backside wiggled. You let out a gentle giggle before releasing it from the crib and sitting the two of you on the floor, pulling the pup into your lap and distracting it with a strip of meat while you assessed its injuries once more. 

You blinked once and then twice in confusion. You could have sworn the wounds had been much worse not more than half an hour ago. The slashes were still bloody and in need of tending to, but they were not the deep, gnarled gashes that had once needed stitching. You were either still out of your mind or this animal had the fastest healing time you had ever seen. 

It was much easier to believe that your mind was failing you. And so, you got to cleaning and wrapping the wounds. The pup was surprisingly well behaved, only whimpering every now and then as you touched a tender spot but it didn’t jerk away and did its best to stay still as it ate. The more time you spent with it, the more you realized it was much smarter and more aware than you had once thought. Everything about the little creature seemed eerily human when you thought about it too much. It was better to not think about it too hard. 

Trapped in your own mind, you hadn’t realized that you had finished your work. Not until you felt the gentle lap of a little tongue against the wounds that decorated your palms, jolting you back into the real world. 

You pulled your hands away with a pained hiss before reprimanding the puppy, “No, no, no, I don’t know where that mouth of yours has been. The last thing we need is an infection.”

The puppy whined in earnest and nosed at your palm once more before you pulled your hands away again and scooped the little thing back up into your arms. This way, it wouldn’t be able to mess with the cuts. 

After you tended to your palms, applying salve and wrapping them securely, you couldn’t help but notice the odd tingling you felt emanating from them. It was warm and fuzzy and completely unexplainable - your salves had never caused that sensation before. 

As time passed and the sun crossed over the sky before dipping beneath the horizon, the feeling became stronger until it was a pulse-like thrum causing your hands to tremble before steadily declining until it was nothing more than a memory. And an odd one at that. 

It was when you began to turn in for the night, that everything fell apart. 

You didn’t notice that the crickets had fallen silent nor that the wildlife of the forest had completely disappeared. You hadn’t noticed the hollow ringing that came from the wind slipping between the trees. It was the calm before the storm, and you had no idea what was coming. 

The candlelight was dim, casting soft ochre colored shadows over the wood and stone of the cottage. The puppy slept soundly in your arms. Everything was calm. 

That was of course until a howl fractured the peace. It was so loud you could have sworn you felt the floorboards shake as a rush of fright went down your spine. The soft lull of sleep was suddenly long forgotten. 

The pup in your arms stirred at the noise, its ears perking up and its head frozen in place as it recognized the sound. It was on high alert. It knew what was out there. 

You shakily stood and approached the door, the top portion of it still unlatched and swung outward.  Outside of the lamp affixed to the stone above the door, the forest was pitch black. You could barely make out the twisted shape of the trees and the brooke that had once been in sight was obscured. But, what was even stranger, was that you were certain that the shadows were moving. 

You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes as you tried to make out what exactly you were looking at. And then, it was close enough that the light bounced off of it and you were met with the horrifying sight of a set of bright silver eyes staring back at you from the dark. 

You were frozen in an instant. But once you realized those eyes were steadily coming closer with a hulking form attached, you acted on instinct, slamming the door shut and latching it closed. You could only hope that the door would hold against whatever that thing was. 

Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants as you became more and more unsettled. Why was it so quiet? Why couldn’t you hear something so big moving? Where was it? What direction was it coming from? Your back met the wall and your weak knees had you sliding down to the ground. 

Your entire body was shaking in pure terror. There was something out there, something massive and monstrous. You held the pup in your arms tighter, bringing it to your chest for comfort as well as protection. 

You yelped as a loud bang popped the eerie silence. Whatever it was, it was slamming its body alongside the cottage. But it wasn’t doing it mindlessly, like it thought it could break through the walls. It was purposeful, it was an attempt to frighten you and determine where you were. It was smart. 

You curled into yourself as it came closer. You could hear heavy, sharp pants in between the vicious snarls that it was making. It sounded wild, primal, and predatory. It was hunting. 

The pup in your arms began whining and wriggling around as it tried to escape your grasp and all it was doing for you was frightening you even more. All it was doing was making more noise, drawing more attention to itself. And you knew it had, the creature outside had gone silent. It was listening. 

And then chaos unraveled in seconds. 

You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 

It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye. 

Your body slowly began to slump to the ground, falling weak before the wolf. You looked like the perfect prey, like a rabbit that was so frightened its own heart had stopped. It seemed that the wolf thought similarly. It approached you slowly like it was still on the prowl as angry snarls left its gaping maw. You could feel your blood run cold as you caught sight of its enormous teeth, each one long enough that they could be made into daggers. Whatever this creature was, it was no mere wolf, it was something else entirely. 

Your hold on the pup was weakened as your chest and forehead met the ground, bending beneath the invisible weight of the wolf’s presence. From beneath the cover of your hair you could make out its large paws and hooked nails mere inches away from you. It was so close now that you could feel puffs of its hot breath disturb your hair and ghost over your neck. You were breaths away from death. 

You couldn’t decide if you wanted to flee or embrace it as you had once desired. 

A soft whimper involuntarily escaped you as you waited, feeling the tip of its nose brush over your head as its snarls grew louder. A sudden loud yapping broke the tension. 

The pup was frantically barking at the wolf and lunging at it in a playful manner all the while standing in front of you like it was trying to protect you. The sight would have been comical had you not been on the brink of passing out. This tiny puppy was fiercely defending you against this monster. 

And, to your surprise, it was working. 

Once you gained the courage to raise your head you were met with the sight of the wolf’s intense gaze trained on the puppy. More specifically, its gaze was trained on the bandages covering its wounds. The wolf looked back at you, its hauntingly silver eyes making you flinch. It continued to stare at you for a long moment like it was contemplating something, that of which you were unaware of. But then its gaze hardened and its predatory stance relaxed. It had made its decision. 

Without another snarl or howl it nipped the pup by its scruff and began to carry it out of the cottage. It stopped for a moment once it had successfully squeezed out of the broken door frame and looked back at you, this too was a look that you were unable to decipher. It gave you a slow blink and then turned, carrying the pup back to the forest and disappearing into the darkness. 

It was in that moment that you finally realized that it had not been a dog you had rescued, but that wolf’s pup. 

And with that realization you completely collapsed to the floor and were dragged into a dark, dreamless, restless sleep. 

~~~~~~~

Yoongi had come to realize that there wasn’t much that you could do to discipline a two year old, especially a two year old that was a shifter. 

His daughter, Binna, had little control over her form and had a knack for slipping away and getting into trouble. That was something he could blame on his other pack members, specifically the youngest three. 

He huffed out a sigh as he carefully extracted twigs and leaves from her messy hair, flinging them back into the underbrush. She was the very definition of a wild child. And while it wasn’t uncommon for pups her age to be curious and adventurous, it was uncommon that she so readily welcomed and followed humans. 

Humans were dangerous, that was something he had tried his best to get her to understand but she simply couldn’t. She was too young to understand how they could hunt her and hurt her, far too young to realize what that meant, and far too young to understand that it was a human that had taken her mother away from them. 

Then again, she hadn’t known her mother all too well. That was evidenced by her clinging to any female shifter she had found and babbling out “mama” to the wrong mothers. She knew her mother was missing, but she couldn’t match the face to the name. He couldn’t really blame her all that much. Her mother had been amongst the best hunters and was oftentimes absent as she hunted for the pack’s survival. Yoongi was a defender, he was there to ensure the safety of everyone that resided within their territory. He was at the front lines. And because of that, his wife was often gone and he was almost always home. To his daughter, her mother was a faceless being. 

“Let me see,” He demanded firmly, trying to unwind the bandages that were already slipping from her skin. 

She nipped at his fingers playfully, her serrated canines gleaming as she giggled. Yoongi tried his best to suppress his smile, he was supposed to be upset with her. He sighed once more and grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwind it. 

“No,” She cried in a drawn out whine, “Mama gave me! Mama gave me!” 

Yoongi froze, startled as he registered her fractured speech. She thought that human in the cottage was her mother. 

He could see why she would think that, you had taken care of her after all. From what he had seen from the wounds he knew they came from a hunter's trap, snares made from silver that were so small they had clearly been designed for pups as no adult shifter would ever be able to be caught in that small a snare. It was clear that you had rescued his daughter and taken care of her in his absence. 

And for some reason, Yoongi could only press his lips together in a firm line and failed to correct his daughter. At the end of the day, she wasn’t necessarily wrong. 

Yoongi knew you.

He had known you for a while now. He had watched you the day you and your husband had moved in. The two of you had chosen a location that was incredibly close to their territory and so he scouted you out for days to ensure that you wouldn’t stumble too far from your home, to ensure that you weren’t a threat. 

He had thought you two were safe, and that was his biggest mistake. 

Yoongi would not say that he was enamored with you, but he was definitely interested in you. He had gone his entire life knowing to never trust a human, but as he observed he couldn’t help but be enthralled by your little human quirks. 

You were so blissfully unaware of his presence as he silently stalked you. Your husband, like his wife, was often gone during the day and you were left to amuse yourself. For someone of your age, you had this odd youthful aura about you. He would watch as you would jump into the brooke, spinning around and splashing with abandon not unlike his child would. 

That version of you that he knew though, that was long gone. Loss has aged you, hardened you. Even though you were completely ensnared by fright he could see the hollowness in your eyes when he had ripped your door from its hinges. 

The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss. 

And then there was the other problem. He was indebted to you and you were now in his care. While he refused to acknowledge any attachment he felt for you, he couldn’t deny the attraction. It was incredibly wrong considering his own disdain for humans, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something else there, this odd discomfort in his chest that demanded to be felt, a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of your frightened face. 

This was not good. 

Contrary to popular belief, wolves do not mate for life. And as a shifter that was even more true. While many chose to bond to one another, it was not horribly uncommon to find a new mate if one were to leave or die. And, very rarely, there were intense bonds that made it so that you did mate for life. In the case of his wife, it was not that type of bond. Of course he was hurt, of course he missed her, but it was not the debilitating grief that you experienced. It was natural for his kind, evolutionary even.  

The attachment, this bond he felt for you paired with his daughter’s stubborn belief that you could be her mother made him make a decision far faster than he should have. 

You lost a husband, he lost a wife. An even trade. Why could you not fill those roles for each other? 

~~~~~~~

The following days were ones where you lived in a state of fright and confusion. 

When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor. 

When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared. 

Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands. 

Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next. 

That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved. 

It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place. 

And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of. 

And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before. 

This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away. 

And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that? 

The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much. 

You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence. 

“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.” 

It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?

“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light. 

It was looking at you like you were dumb. 

“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.” 

You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf. 

A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own. 

Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.

If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy. 

“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!” 

The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here. 

You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.

What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection. 

A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child. 

“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died. 

You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy. 

Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward. 

“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you. 

This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard. 

“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.” 

The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again. 

That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much? 

~~~~~~~

That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw. 

For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores. 

But your husband was dead. 

With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it? 

You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know. 

You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble. 

Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”

The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all. 

“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you. 

His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable. 

But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you. 

The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”

“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!” 

He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.” 

The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much. 

“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”

“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”

“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked. 

“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all. 

“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”

“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?” 

Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing.  But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of. 

“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked. 

He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”

“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”

“That, that confuses me.” He admitted. 

“What?!” You cried in exasperation. 

“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”

You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen. 

“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head. 

“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.” 

There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them? 

Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him. 

“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief. 

“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.” 

That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on. 

“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work. 

“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”

“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?” 

Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form. 

He nodded. 

“Are there…are there more of you?”

“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all. 

“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”

“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”

“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?” 

Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him. 

“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”

“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”

A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.” 

Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were. 

You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch. 

“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said. 

You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours. 

“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”

Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes. 

“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”

I understand you, he wanted to say. 

“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side. 

That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest. 

It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. 

Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.

“I’ll leave you to your work.” 

This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier. 

It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain. 

~~~~~~~

In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence. 

You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed. 

“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder. 

You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”

He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”

That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.” 

“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”

“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”

“It’s never been a problem before,”

“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share. 

“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected. 

You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?

Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded. 

Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing. 

The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were. 

You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended. 

“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back. 

You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him. 

When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before. 

Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it. 

What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave? 

You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest? 

Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat. 

No. No, you refused to believe it. 

Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind. 

It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her? 

“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind. 

They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse. 

You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.

Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.

A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger. 

You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood. 

You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all. 

You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass. 

You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready. 

You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him. 

And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away. 

There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet. 

You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible. 

“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand. 

“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off. 

You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before. 

That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away. 

He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband. 

And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees. 

A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood. 

You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder. 

~~~~~~~

Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it. 

It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before. 

“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up. 

When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it. 

“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead. 

“You didn’t know him?”

“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”

“Was he going to eat me?”

You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer. 

“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off. 

Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.” 

Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider. 

He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words. 

“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest. 

Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed. 

During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you. 

During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you. 

It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame. 

But, there was one constant with her. 

“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps. 

And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws. 

It was a silent “not yet.” 

You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least. 

The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted. 

You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them. 

Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human. 

But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him. 

The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens. 

Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away. 

“Yoongi!” You called. 

The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him. 

“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge. 

There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back. 

You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again. 

The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside. 

“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket. 

“I can do both, dearest.”

Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word. 

“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”

“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you. 

You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit. 

You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf. 

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all. 

You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours. 

“Yoongi,” You whispered. 

And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be. 

You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen. 

A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening. 

“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon. 

He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth. 

You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband. 

“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.” 

That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths. 

He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct. 

You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling. 

“I can’t, not here.” You repeated. 

He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home. 

That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful. 

You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively. 

When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

There it was again. 

There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness. 

You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments. 

You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.

Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair. 

The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone. 

The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts. 

Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?

You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door. 

Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge. 

You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.

You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair. 

You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back. 

The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger. 

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks. 

“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm. 

“I didn’t lock you up-”

“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”

When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage. 

“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”

“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”

“I have every right, you are mine!” 

“I am not!” 

His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat. 

“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?” 

Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know. 

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach. 

“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock. 

His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal. 

“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state. 

“He wouldn’t!”

“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?” 

He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue. 

“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”

He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her. 

“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”

His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest. 

There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different. 

You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment. 

You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams. 

“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.” 

A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed. 

You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears. 

“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”

You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum. 

“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs. 

You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him. 

He had trapped you once again. 

~~~~~~~

You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.

You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.  

You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run. 

With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered. 

You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation. 

Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it. 

A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else. 

A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup. 

You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass. 

There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this. 

“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time? 

“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father. 

“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”

“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin. 

“Sorry, mama.” She repeated. 

You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“

“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke. 

Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked. 

“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her. 

You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead. 

As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own. 

But Binna wasn’t yours. 

But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another. 

You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again. 

The door shut and the lock clicked. 

You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met. 

His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent. 

“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered. 

He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was. 

“No.” He simply said. 

“You’re not being fair -”

“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.” 

You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you. 

“I am not Binna’s mother.”

He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”

You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”

“You are her mother.” 

And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna. 

She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother. 

“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection. 

You didn’t know how to respond. 

“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap. 

“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.

“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face. 

The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them. 

“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to. 

“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.” 

Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them. 

“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”

You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white. 

Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.” 

Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house. 

The door shut, the lock clicked. 

The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was. 

And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.

The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him. 

Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets. 

“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning. 

“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained. 

“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”

“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.” 

“You didn’t even give me the choice.”

“I love you, and I know that you love me.” 

You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own. 

“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong. 

Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning. 

You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door. 

“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong. 

“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door. 

That couldn’t be right? Crimes?

You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home. 

You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast. 

You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window. 

“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”

Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her. 

A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through. 

“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time. 

You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 

A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time. 

You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur. 

When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you. 

You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground. 

The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt. 

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground. 

You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands. 

“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted. 

When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered. 

And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame. 

“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”

Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground. 

It was absolute chaos. 

The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it. 

There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live. 

Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair. 

“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt. 

“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground. 

You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being. 

You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back. 

The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust. 

“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him. 

“I am no witch-“

“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain. 

“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.

This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you. 

Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.

Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision. 

“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.” 

You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you. 

They were going to burn you alive. 

Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.

You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable. 

Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would. 

But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.” 

The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision. 

“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.

Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone. 

But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you. 

Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight. 

The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place. 

In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening. 

It was Yoongi. 

The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you. 

The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace. 

“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash. 

“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.” 

His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him. 

Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe. 

You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men. 

“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again. 

You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.

Help them. 

Help them? 

Help them?!

You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of? 

Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone. 

You didn’t need other humans. 

“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder. 

“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Kill them all.”

You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss. 

“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers. 

In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves. 

You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color. 

You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws. 

You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.

You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

#bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere yoongi #bts fanfic #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #werewolf yoongi #werewolf yoongi x reader #yandere werewolf yoongi #yandere werewolf yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yandere werewolf #werewolf bts #werewolf bts x reader

[cheesecakethots]

brain rotting at the idea of being trapped with yan! gojo & geto, and being convinced that gojo is the worst of the two.

he’s always so perverse and gross, licking at your face if you cry, tackling you into tight embraces on a whim, keeping you pressed to him late at night with loud snores.

when you run, gojo is the one to grab you and bring you back, tossing you over his shoulder and laughing as he does so.

you soon start comparing him to a dog, one that slobbers all over you and bites and jumps at you at any given opportunity. he’s not like a wild dog, though. geto is akin to his owner, the one keeping him on a leash.

geto is the one who tugs him away by his hair when he’s treating your neck like his own personal chew toy, when you’re trembling in his lap with his teeth moving to bite once more.

geto is the one who pinches gojo awake when his hold on you at night has become insufferable, when he’s started to drool against your cheek and snore into your hair.

geto is the one to remind him to play nice when you start trembling and crying, when it’s become all too much for you.

that is, if you’ve been good. it’s when you haven’t that you realise geto is the one you should be more fearful of. like any dog owner, he’s adept at giving out orders.

ordering gojo to chase you down, to bring you here, to touch you there.

he’ll be the one to remind the blue-eyed man that you are sometimes in need of a stern hand, and if gojo’s not up to the task, suguru most certainly is.

it’s almost as though he knows when you’re about to act up before you do.

try and slip out the front door and you’ll be met with a particularly horrifying curse on the other side, while geto sits nearby, dark eyes on the newspaper in his lap, a leg crossed onto his knee as he reads. his full attention is on you, however he’s alright with letting you think he’ll be careless enough to allow you to be gobbled up.

he’ll watch as gojo presses hungry kisses to your lips from a nearby windowsill, lit cigarette in hand and soft smile on his lips.

it’s late at night when he’ll press himself behind you, and slip a hand under your shirt, cold fingers crawling up your stomach, another hand gently wrapping around the base of your throat while he softly hushes you, lips ghosting over your ear. it won’t take much for gojo to wake up and whine about the two of you leaving him out.

soon, you’ll start wondering why you ever thought that satoru was the worse of the two. he may be akin to a predator, but that only means suguru is all the more terrifying for having tamed such a beast.

#i have an acc fic on them in the works rn and im brainrotting so hard on it #tw yandere #tw.yandere #yandere getou suguru #yandere getou #yandere geto suguru #yandere geto #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satosugu #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jujustu kaisen x reader #yandere jujustu kaisen

[ilguna]

☼ whisper of the beast (Finnick Odair) ☼

summary; on your own, you try to find your boyfriend in the arena. instead, you run across something much, much worse.

warnings; swearing, death, weapon usage, ehhh gore, blood mention.

wc; 2.5k

prompt; 11. "Just keep breathing. In and out. You're doing great."

—

There is something seriously horrifying going on with this arena, and each time you think you get close to figuring it out—it changes.

The only consistent factor in each of your theories is the jungle, and that’s because it’s the root of the fear. When you travel through the greenery for long periods of time, a creeping feeling grows on you, one that you can’t shake unless you make your way back to the beach.

Which is far from safe, itself. Especially since there are nine other tributes alive here, roaming around, hunting for lone victors. For it only being the second day of the Games, it’s remarkable that so many are dead, already. With six of them dying today, alone.

It makes you think that you’re being overly paranoid, because you’re out here by yourself. It’s a completely new experience to you. The first time around, during your Games, the Career alliance lasted up until the very last second. You never had to keep an eye out for yourself, because you had others with you that were doing the same thing.

You were under the impression that you’d be doing that for these Games, too, but nothing has gone according to plan. You and Finnick had a long discussion the night of the interviews on what to expect regarding corralling Katniss and Peeta into the alliance. Neither of you thought it would be easy. Worst case scenario, you’d grab one and he’d get the other, and the two of you would meet up somewhere in the middle. 

The Gamemakers really must have it out for you this year, determined to keep you and Finnick apart. That’s why they decided to put you on the opposite side of the Cornucopia, keeping you from seeing Finnick. While also putting Brutus in your water wedge, to ensure that you wouldn’t be able to reach him.

By the time you fought off Brutus and got to the Cornucopia, all three of them were gone. The only option you had left was to wait for Johanna and Blight, but with them still in the water and the Careers coming to take over, you had to leave. There wasn’t a choice in the matter.

Since, you’ve spent your time traveling through the jungle and taking the occasional rest on the beach, in the hopes that you’ll run across your boyfriend. The search was casual yesterday, as you were more worried about finding drinking water than the rebel alliance. Now that the numbers are spiraling, you know that the rescue plan is right around the corner.

You’re confident enough to say that they won’t do it today, but it’s got to be tomorrow or the day after. They won’t have Katniss and Peeta openly in danger like this for longer than they have to. You likely have less than forty-eight hours to find them, or else you’ll get trapped in here and taken by the Capitol.

You would say that you wish you had a general idea on which direction they went in yesterday, but it probably won’t make much of a difference. With the amount of people dying in these trees, you’re sure Finnick is directing them the opposite way, just in case. 

It’s another reason why you can’t stand to be in the jungle for long periods of time. From what you’ve gathered, at least half of the tributes that have died today so far, have come from somewhere in the trees. It makes you think that something is out here, and it’s more than just a rogue tribute.

In fact, it would make more sense for it to be a mutt of some kind. In the last Quarter Quell, they were everywhere. There was not a single animal that a tribute could trust to be friendly. On top of that, there were aspects of the arena that took them by surprise. 

It appeared to be the most breathtaking place imaginable. The Cornucopia was in the middle of a vibrantly green meadow, the sky a perfect blue, with fluffy white clouds. In the distance, there was a snow capped mountain, one that looked straight out of a picture book. On the other side, a healthy forest with plants you couldn’t name.

Of course, it was all too good to be true. The mountain was revealed to be a deadly volcano, the plants were poisonous, the water was infected with a disease, the insects stung and the flowers could kill when inhaled too closely. Everything that was placed in that arena was working against them.

Who’s to say it’s not the same for this one?

You pause next to a nearby tree to rest your feet, because they’re throbbing in your shoes. You lift one, stretching your thigh, feeling the immediate relief that comes with being off the foot. After a minute, you switch, but it doesn’t feel as good this time around.

When you reach up to run a hand through your hair to smooth it back, you find that your scalp is wet, soaked from sweating so much. It feels much hotter today than it was yesterday, like the Gamemakers are trying to boil you alive. It’s brutal enough being in here, do they really need to make it any worse?

You dip your head, eyes closed while you take a deep breath, sighing it out. You return to walking, paying attention to where you place your feet.

It might make more sense for you to go down to the beach and wait for Finnick, Katniss and Peeta to show up. The issue is that you’re not willing to take the risk of the Careers spotting you while you’re down there. The four of them could easily get you pinned down. You’ll be dead before you can call for help.

A branch rustling behind you makes your next step stutter. Your eyes widen, as you slowly look across the fern in front of you, to the left of your vision. With sensitive ears, you adjust the spear in your hand, turning your body halfway to look behind you, at the tree you were just standing at.

There’s nothing.

You take a minute to search the trees around you, backtracking to get a better look. Even if it’s just a critter, you want to know. If there’s living animals out here, that means there’s a water source—and you won’t have to depend on your sponsors to keep you hydrated.

There’s not a trace. At least, that’s what you think, until your eyes catch the hoof print in the mud. Your face contorts, you drop into a crouch to get closer, curious on what could’ve made a mark like this. As far as your knowledge on the jungle goes, there shouldn’t be anything that could leave this behind.

The goosebumps that crawl up your arms are involuntary, stomach dropping. The safety blanket that the jungle had been providing seconds ago, is gone now. There’s something in here with you, and it was smart enough to run when it made noise.

You raise your head, thinking about the best way to handle this situation, when your heart seizes in your chest.

What the fuck is that.

In one fluid movement, you jump to your feet, turning in the direction of the beach, and beginning to sprint down the slope. A screech cuts through the previously quiet air, piercing your ears enough to make you wince at the pitch.

And then you can hear it galloping behind you, hands and feet pounding against the spongy jungle ground. A scream rises in your throat, terrified to look behind you to see how fast this thing actually is.

You take the chance when you swing around a tree, stealing a glance over your shoulder. 

Whatever it is, it’s demonic.

You’ve never seen anything like it. It’s coming at you on all fours, there’s hooves where its feet should be, with long and pointed nails on its fingers. Its fur is so black that you can’t make out where its eyes are, or if it has any skin exposed at all. It’s a beast straight out of one of your nightmares.

It isn’t fast by any means, but it’s not slow, either.

You can hear it tearing up a path behind you, trampling through the bushes, ripping bark off trees. As the path between the trees narrows, the jungle becomes more condensed. You hear less of it coming in contact with the ground, thumping replacing the noise.

Until it stops altogether.

Your instincts take over, jerking to the right, shoulder slamming into the tree. You watch in silence as the beast flies by where you were a second ago, claws out and ready to latch on. It comes into contact with the ground about ten feet away, head whipping unnaturally to see over its shoulder.

“No, no!” You let out, beginning to weave through the trees.

A snarl rips through its throat at the idea of you outsmarting it. It’s coming for you, and there’s nothing you can do besides run for your life and dodge it each time it tries to attack. 

You play this game for what feels like an hour, but it can’t be more than twenty minutes. You make it half a mile down the slope, knowing that the beach can’t be that far away from where you are, when you realize that it’s gone. The monster that has been chasing you has given up.

You lean over your knees, mouth watering, throat beginning to close. As you gasp for air, your body tries to expel some of the heat by making you sweat, but all that’s doing is making you sick. You think you might throw up. 

Right as you’ve come to terms with losing all the water and food in your body, spit falling from your mouth in long strings, a shadow on the ground grows larger. Your face twists, thinking that something must be falling, like a leaf.

It hits you, literally, flattening you against the ground, head hitting the dirt. It digs in, nails cutting through skin as it tears through your back and arms, shredding your jumpsuit. A scream leaves your lips, a white hot and blinding pain smothering you all at once.

Your hand tightens around the spear, cheek against Earth as the beast presses into your shoulders, keeping you from moving. Still, with the small amount of mobility you have, you swing the head of the spear up, toward yourself, narrowly missing your left  shoulder.

It lodges into the beast, causing it to roar in pain. You shove the pole further back, hoping that it pushes into its body deeper. The weight on your shoulders disappears, you can hear it stumbling away.

In the window you have, you get back to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain your entire backside is in. You just need to make it to the beach, it’s not that far away, you’ve covered this distance in your sleep before. It’s harder to do, though, when every hard step you take makes you grit your teeth to keep from crying out. 

The beast is catching up with you, recovering from its wound. It’s faster than you are, and it’s completely disregarding everything in its path. Nothing can slow it down. You can see the golden sand through the trees, you’re almost there.

A body jumps out from behind a bush, making you run into it. For a moment, you’re sure that it’s an exact replica of the monster behind you, but once you realize that you’re staring at another tribute jumpsuit, the panic subsides. But only for a second.

“Move!” You shriek, trying to get around him. He grabs the sides of your arms, holding you there.

You look up, finding that you’re standing face to face with the male tribute from Ten—someone who is not part of the rebel alliance, and doesn’t care whether or not you make it out alive. When you glance over your shoulder, you can see that the beast is getting closer. It’s not going to stop until it gets its hands on somebody.

And it won’t be you.

The only choice you have is to sacrifice him, so that’s exactly what you do. You jerk him around, switching places with him, forcing his back to the beast. His eyes widen, mouth opening to say something, when you pull back from him, lifting your leg to kick him in the chest.

The beast takes him gratefully, landing on his back. He stumbles forward, struggling under the weight of the beast. You watch in horror as its jaws unhinge, revealing razor sharp teeth. It throws its head back, before whipping forward, mouth securing around the tribute’s neck.

And with no resistance, he rips out a chunk of the flesh. A spray of blood hits you in the face, and it coats the jungle floor. You back away with wide eyes, watching as Ten’s legs can’t hold him up anymore, body collapsing in the dirt beneath the beast.

A cannon fires.

You turn, making the final push for the beach before it can come after you, too. 

The moment your feet hit the sand, it begins to drag you down, keeping you from running as far away as your mind is screaming for you to go. You make it a few feet before landing on your hands and knees, sucking in sharp breaths and letting them out aggressively. 

That was almost you. That could’ve been you.

You try to crawl, hands forming in fists in the sand, tears falling from your eyes.

“(Y/n)?” You hear. There’s a headache forming, black spots coming to eat away at the corners of your vision. “(Y/n), hey.”

A hand touching your lower back makes you swing a hand up to get them off. Your wrist is caught, eyes meeting Finnick’s, finding him worried. 

“You’re okay, honey. I’m right here.” He pulls at your elbow to make you sit up on your knees. 

You grab onto his shoulder, struggling to breathe, “It—it… The—” 

Finnick takes your hand placing it against his chest. “Follow me.” He takes a deep breath, you try to follow, stuttering. He blows it out, you sob. “Come on, (Y/n). Just keep breathing. In and out.” You mimic his breaths, allowing them to even out. “You’re doing great.”

“Finnick.” You cry, head falling forward.

He cups your face with both hands, lifting your head. He’s only a couple inches away from you. “You’re safe with me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you.” He wipes your tears away with his thumbs. “Do you want to tell me what’s in there?”

You look away, eyes too intense to stare into. “A monster.”

--

this was part of my 3k celebration!!

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