#also how his expression changed when the werewolf was like just kill me

[littldoctor]

Doctor Who - S2E2 - Tooth and Claw

I had never seen a werewolf being killed by moonlight before.

[retrievablememories]

cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

--

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

--

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

--

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

--

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

--

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

--

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

--

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh.  while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

@ihatemen55 @cottoncandyclouds-stuff @yunhofingers @heybabesposts @twilight-loveer @whipwhoops @mrsminho @junecat18 @hoshi-is-ult-bbg @okayiamkassandra @witchbitxhxx @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad @thaiika @goldentea10 @iloverubberduckiez-blog @katie-tibo @ohsweetmimosa @dream-cvtcher @hoseokteardrop @lpgirl2324 @vanillacupcakefrosting @gukiemochi @jkslaugh97 @ahgasegotarmy116 @jeonjklibs @bangtans-momma @screamertannie @kenzietaetae @han-nah-banana @00frenchfries00 @taiwan0618 @laurynne5 @monvante @ynisthatyou @thiccthighs19 @jeonwiixard

[jplupine]

⛓Feral Possession: Chapter 34⛓

Devour You, Devour Me

Pairing: Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez x Wynter Hughes [Nonbinary OC] Word Count: ~5.2k WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI, Exophilia, Demon!Grimmjow, Sub!Switch!Grimmjow, Feral Behavior, Small Dom/Big Sub, Praise, Handjob, Anal Fingering, Pegging, Mating Press, Cum, Strap gets referred to as a cock Note: Terms such as pussy/cock/dick/etc. get used. If that makes you uncomfortable, you may want to skip this fic.

Summary: Grimmjow finds a new kink.

A/N: Happy Halloween! Why not peg your demons to celebrate 🫀

You can also read it on AO3!

Masterlist | Chapter 34:

  It was quiet other than the TV playing and the sound of Dagur softly snoring on the couch beside me. Grimmjow sat on the floor in front of me while watching the TV, and Nel was out for the time being. Having the demon sitting between my legs, I was brushing out his long hair.

  It was so soft that I was tempted to bury my face into it. Refraining from doing so, I set the brush aside and reached toward the crown of his skull to collect three parts of his hair. Flipping the strands to start a braid, I could still sense a quiet tension in the air.

  This tension had been present whenever Grimmjow and I were alone now ever since Nel mentioned how Grimmjow seemed happy. I couldn't help but think Nel must've said more after I retreated to the office and that was the source of the tension.

  Regardless, Grimmjow continued to sleep by my side and allowed me to show affection. So I couldn't figure out where this feeling was coming from.

  I continued to braid his hair in silence, gathering up more hair as I went further back over his skull. I so badly wanted to ask him about it, but I didn't want to step on a trigger I wasn't aware of and set him off.

  "Stop it." Grimmjow broke the silence.

  "Stop what?" I paused to let him answer.

  "I can feel how you're looking at me." His tone was low and steady.

  "I have to look at you to braid your hair."

  "Just fuckin' ask." Grimmjow's voice still didn't change, and I glanced to the side while thinking.

  "Are you....okay?"

  "Fine." His tail thumped against the floor.

  "I find that hard to believe."

  "Too bad."

  "....Please. What's wrong?" My question was answered by silence as my fingers twisted his hair together. His gaze remained on the TV, and he didn't move an inch.

  "You."

  "What did I do?" I kept my voice calm as unease grew.

  "Exist."

  "I don't follow."

  "Being stuck here with you has changed me." Grimmjow's ear twitched when Dagur sighed in his sleep. "And I'm not sure I like it. I'm not sure I dislike it, either. I'm still strong. I can still kill. So I don't know."

  "Is this coming up from your talk with Nel?" I asked, and he tensed.

  "How much did you hear?"

  "I don't have heightened senses. I can't hear you two in here from the office." I saw the tension in his shoulders ease. "So it is from that talk?"

  "Yeah."

  "But you already knew you'd changed."

  "To a degree."

  "....Do you want my help?"

  "No."

  "If you change your mind, just let me know." I kissed the top of his head, and he leaned back to look up at me.

  "Do you think I'm more dangerous now?"

  "I wouldn't know for certain. Why?"

  "That werewolf exorcist said I was more dangerous." He muttered as I tied off his long braid. "But I didn't even kill him. I would've before."

  "Grimmjow, I don't think that's what he was talking about." I saw his brows furrow more. "You're very powerful and highly destructive. You showing restraint even when you were that angry shows that you can learn and adapt." I softly sighed and gently cradled his face. "Having your power more focused can make you an even bigger threat to them."

  "But I'm stuck here."

  "For now. The rules change when I die, and for you, that time may pass rather quickly." Grimmjow had a rather serious expression while looking up at me. Brushing my thumbs over his cheeks, I then kissed his forehead. "I think I'm gonna go upstairs for a bit. I'm tired of TV right now."

  Patting his shoulders, I got him to move so that I could get up from the couch. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away until I was out of sight. Going upstairs, I paused when I reached my bedroom.

  Grimmjow was already face down in the middle of the bed with his head shoved into a pillow. His tail curled from one side to the other lazily.

  "What? Decided you wanted a nap instead?"

  "Mm."

  "Are you pouting?" I crawled onto the bed, and he softly growled.

  "I'm not pouting."

  "Mm." I hummed while swinging my leg over his hips to sit on him. Moving his braid to the side, I then ran my hands up his back. "Do you want to go out for a bit? We can go to the park to give you some space to clear your head."

  "No." His response surprised me since he never turned down the chance to leave the house. "I want to figure this out."

  "All right, then." I began to massage his shoulders that felt so tense beneath my hands.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Touching you."

  "No shit."

  "Then why ask?" I chuckled and added pressure to my hands. Grimmjow softly purred and gradually relaxed.

  "That....feels good." He sighed, making me smile.

  "Shall I continue, my king?"

  "Mmm. Yes." His purring got louder as my hands went a little lower. Massaging his shoulder blades and his back, he even leaned into my touch. His face never once lifted from the pillow it was shoved in.

  The tension from before actually began to fade as he purred and lazily stretched. My hands molded around the muscles of his back and made deep, circular motions in certain areas. My thumbs trailed along his spine as his back arched into my touch like a cat.

  It was quiet other than his rumbling purr. I felt a soft smile on my lips and went down his spine again. His tail twitched when my hands brushed over his lower back. I wouldn't lie, this was making me feel better as well.

  Knowing the offness lately wasn't from something I did wrong helped. And the fact that Grimmjow was still allowing me to touch him was a good sign.

  Leaning over, I kissed his shoulder and his neck. He slightly tilted his head to indicate that he wanted more. Chuckling, I planted a few more kisses on his neck.

  Sitting back up, I went to massage his lower back. His purr mixed with a contented groan as he arched into my touch. I gave an amused scoff and went a little lower.

  Grimmjow's ass propped up with his tail swaying in my face, making me laugh as I tried to get it out of the way. Looking back down, I stared at the base of his tail. I began to wonder if he would also like being touched there like the rest of his back.

  My fingers went through the short, blue fur to massage the muscles around the base of his tail. Grimmjow purred even louder while arching his back to press into my hand just like a cat would. His tail flicked and brushed under my jaw, but my gaze dropped just a little lower to his ass being hugged by his tight pants.

  I wasn't sure he realized how his movement now made his butt rub against me. Curling my fingers around the base of his tail, he jolted but didn't pull away. Stroking his tail, my other hand continued to massage his lower back.

  My jaw clenched with my eyes glued to his ass. I didn't think I'd get worked up over something so small. The way he rocked into my touch gave me a peek of his balls pressing against the fabric of his pants. My hands on his lower back slid down to squeeze his ass.

  Leaning over again, I kissed behind his ear. My fingers traced the crease between his ass and thigh before I spoke.

  "How do you feel?" Instead of answering, Grimmjow grabbed my wrist to pull my hand away from his tail. He took my hand and placed it against his lower stomach before going down further. My fingers had to curve as he made me feel his erection.

  Swallowing, I pressed my hips against his ass. At least I wasn't the only one excited by the change in mood.

  "Do you wanna try something new?" I muttered, and there was a quiet pause.

  "....You're thinking about fucking my ass again, aren't you?"

  "Yes." I rested my forehead against his shoulder. "You're just so pretty and your ass is so soft."

  "What makes you think I'd be interested?"

  "Dunno. But it wouldn't kill me to ask and see." I muttered, and there was another quiet pause. Grimmjow then tilted his hips to press his ass into me further. The pressure made me take in a sharp breath.

  "It better feel good or I'll rip your throat out."

  "I'll do my best." I perked up and started kissing his neck again. Slipping my hands under his shirt, I pushed it higher up his back. "Your back is so pretty, too." I muttered before peppering kisses over his bare shoulder blades.

  Dropping his shirt to the side, I then grabbed the hem of his pants and pulled them down. I kissed along his spine and nipped his cheek as his paws slid out of his pants. I drew back to lean over the side of the bed. Pulling out the box from underneath, I opened it up and grabbed a bottle of lube from the top.

  I felt Grimmjow move on the bed behind me before crawling over to lay on my back.

  "Which one do you want me to use?" I asked while bringing the dildos for the strap into view.

  "You want me to pick?" He made a face while looking over my shoulder.

  "Well, yeah. I'm not the one it's going into. So....pick." I felt his hand slide into my pants before pushing them down. Grimmjow groped my ass while looking at the toys, his expression hard to read. He finally pointed at one after a moment of silence.

  It wasn't the smallest one but also wasn't one of the bigger ones either. Dropping the rest back into the box, I fished out the harness.

  "I'll start with my fingers to see how that feels first, okay?"

  "Whatever."

  "You say whatever, but your dick is still hard." I popped off, and Grimmjow didn't respond as his ears turned back. I smiled and kissed his cheek. "Get comfortable." Grimmjow pulled away from me and laid on his stomach with his face in the pillow again.

  Pulling my shirt over my head, I then tossed it to the side. I grabbed the harness to strap it on, tightening it around my hips and thighs. Popping open the cap of the lube, I could feel my heart pounding with excitement.

  Grimmjow's backside was gorgeous even if he was pretending to be barely interested. Running my hand up the back of his leg, I squeezed his upper thigh just beneath his ass. His tail twitched up, and I kissed his lower back.

  "Raise your hips." Grimmjow huffed in response but shifted to put his ass in the air. The position spread him enough to show his asshole with his balls and hard dick dangling between his thighs.

  Squirting lube onto one of my hands, I then palmed his cock and stroked along the shaft. Grimmjow groaned into the pillow as my fingers circled his glans and rubbed over the corona. I watched his tail sway and gently grabbed it after setting down the lube. His hips bucked as I stroked the base of his tail and his dick.

  Listening to him grunt made my gut stir. His muscles twitched before he reached up to clutch the pillow while purring deep in his chest. My fingers ran over the head, caressing his skin slicked by lube before running over his slit.

  Grimmjow bucked again, starting to slowly fuck into my hand with his tail curling from one side to the other.

  "Feels good?"

  "Yeah." Grimmjow's voice was nearly a growl, and my hand slid to the base of his cock. I could feel his heavy pulse against my palm. My hand then lightly squeezed his balls, getting Grimmjow to groan again.

  Letting go of his tail, I picked the lube back up to get more on my fingers. Grimmjow tensed when he felt my fingers circle his asshole.

  "Try to relax, okay? I promise I'll be gentle."

  "I'm not fuckin' fragile." He growled, and I smiled while kissing his back.

  "I know. I just want to make sure you feel good, kitten." I said before pushing one finger through the tight ring of muscle. Grimmjow grunted with discomfort but didn't tell me to stop. I went slower, gradually sliding my finger deeper. When I reached my knuckle, I began to slowly pump my finger.

  Given other similarities Grimmjow had to human anatomy, I could only guess he might have a prostate as well. If so, where was it?

  I got my answer when Grimmjow jolted and clenched around my finger, his breath catching with his claws flexing. Quirking up a brow, I tried to find the spot again and succeeded when his tail curled as he rocked back into my hand. Curling my finger to add more pressure, Grimmjow moaned into the pillow and arched his back.

  "What the fuck?!" He whispered under his breath with his knuckles turning paler from how hard he clutched the pillow.

  "Looks like you do have a prostate, kitten." I cooed before easing in another finger. I was still slow in sliding my fingers in and out of his ass, stroking over the spot that made him twitch and clench. Leaning over, I kissed his shoulders and beneath his ear. "Just think....if this is how my fingers feel, imagine how good my cock will feel." I whispered, and his ears turned back.

  His muscles flexed and rolled beneath his skin as I curled my fingers into his prostate again. When I leaned back, I saw how he stretched around my fingers and his cock was leaking precum onto the blanket.

  My other hand grabbed his ass and squeezed, massaging the flesh beneath my palm as the demon groaned. Heat pooled between my thighs as I throbbed with arousal. Grimmjow was just so damn sexy with his ass in the air, back arching into the mattress, and his hips rocking back into my hand.

  I wasn't even sure he was aware that he was doing it.

  "Want me to keep going?"

  "Like I give a shit." He hissed with his tail flicking.

  "Grimmjow." My tone was firm. His ears were flat against his skull.

  "....Yes."

  "Gimme a sec." I pulled my fingers free and reached for the dildo waiting to the side. Getting it into the O-ring of the harness, I then smeared lube over the silicone. "All right. If you need me to stop at any time, just tell me."

  Lining up the dildo with his ass, I eased the tip in. Grimmjow grunted, and I inched in deeper. Holding his hips, I watched the silicone toy disappear into his ass. When my hips were flush against his body, he let out a shaky breath.

  My body was practically vibrating with excitement. His tail lifted itself out of the way, brushing against my chest and under my chin.

  "Not too big?"

  "I'm fine." He snapped, and I couldn't help but smile. Slowly pulling out, I held his hips in place to thrust back in. Grimmjow's breath shook as I kept a steady, gentle pace.

  He groaned at the back of his throat with his claws digging into the pillow. Every time I bottomed out, I ground my hips into his ass, getting pressure against my throbbing clit. My grip on his hips tightened as I took in a deep breath.

  "You call that fucking? It's pathetic." Grimmjow snarled, but he didn't even lift his face from the pillow.

  "I wanted to make sure you could handle it first." I chuckled. "I guess I can pick up the pace now." Snapping my hips forward, Grimmjow let out a loud moan that made my skin tingle.

  Oh, I was going to ruin him.

  I thrust a few more times, watching him writhe beneath me as he grunted through clenched teeth. The curve of his spine as his ass rocked back into me had me in a trance. The sounds he tried to muffle and hide made me want to make it impossible for him to keep quiet.

  Grabbing his braid, I pulled his hair hard enough to lift his face out of the pillow as he yowled.

  "Yeah? My cock feel that good, kitten?" I smiled, and he cursed under his breath. "Listen to you. I don't think I've heard you like this before." I held his braid in a firm grip as my fingers dug into his hip.

  My hand on his side traveled up his back, following the curves of his body with his skin feeling so warm beneath my fingers. I leaned over to kiss the side of his neck. He tilted his head to the side, giving me more access as he purred.

  "Good boy." I whispered and kissed some more. Putting his braid over his shoulder, I grabbed his hip and let my other hand travel down his stomach. I felt the trail of blue hair under his belly button as my lips brushed over the back of his neck.

  I peppered kisses while listening to him moan. I could feel my arousal leaking down my thighs as I was grinding against his ass. My jaws parted, scraping my teeth over the back of his neck before biting down.

  Grimmjow reacted so viscerally, crying out with his voice breaking and his ass pressing against me. His claws tore into the pillow.

  "Mmm. Who knew you could act like a bitch in heat?" I muttered into his skin before licking where I'd bitten him.

  "Fuck off!" Grimmjow hissed while reaching down to grab my arm. He shoved my hand closer to his cock since it was only resting on his stomach. However, I didn't touch him where he wanted me to.

  Biting the back of his neck again as I thrust in deep, he cursed with his voice cracking. Grimmjow let go of my arm to stroke his own dick that was being neglected.

  "Put your hands on the pillow, Grimmjow." He tried to fight the command, but the compulsion was stronger, forcing him to let go of his leaking cock as he growled.

  "What the fuck?!"

  "I'm gonna make you cum from just my cock, sweetheart." My voice was low before I pulled out. Flipping the demon onto his back, I was greeted with a wonderful sight.

  His pupils were blown wide, his chest rising and falling with his heavy breaths, and his face flushed red. Grimmjow's ears turned back as I grabbed his thighs to hoist them onto my hips. I poured some more lube onto my dick before thrusting back into his sensitive hole.

  Grimmjow's back arched off the bed as his muscles flexed. I held his hips in both of my hands, watching his expression twist with pleasure. His fangs were on full display with every moan. His cock bounced against his stomach from every thrust I gave.

  He was gorgeous and feeding something primal within me.

  Forcing Grimmjow into a mating press, his flexibility allowed me to do it with ease. My cock went deeper as he looked at me with wide eyes. His moans and the slick sounds of me fucking him drove me wild. His pretty blue eyes in seas of black were locked on me for a few seconds before looking down.

  He watched me fuck him while his own dick bounced and leaked precum on his stomach. Grimmjow whined at the back of his throat, his eyes rolling back before they closed as the headboard thumped against the wall. He was falling apart....and I fucking loved it.

  He grabbed my shoulders roughly, claws digging into my skin with his thighs shivering. I kissed him, devouring the moans he made with my tongue gliding against his. Grimmjow sounded animalistic and needy.

  One of his hands slid up my neck to the back of my head, tangling in my hair while deepening the kiss. When we pulled away for air, saliva still connected our mouths until finally being stretched too thin.

  "You're doing so good." I purred as my nose brushed against his. "Look at how you take my cock, sweet boy. Fucking perfect." Panting as our breaths mixed, I looked down to watch my dick piston in and out of his ass. His balls bounced with his pretty cock straining, having a prominent vein on the underside.

  Shifting my hips, Grimmjow bucked with his paws flexing, his hooked claws shooting out. I maintained that angle, striking his prostate over and over as he moaned and growled. He tried pulling me closer as his legs shook more.

  Grimmjow's voice pitched higher before turning into a roar that shook me to the bone. With his fangs bared and his eyes shut tight, he came. His cock and balls twitched with each spurt of cum shooting out over his chest and stomach.

  Only at the last dribble did I finally slow down. Rutting against him, I bit my bottom lip while focusing on the pressure against my clit. I thrust a few more times to hit my own peak, and my cock buried deep in his ass milked a few more drops of cum from his dick.

  Panting, I looked down at the messy state Grimmjow was in. I was tempted to keep fucking him and make him cum on himself more, but I had a feeling that might be too much for his first time.

  Slowly pulling out, I guided his legs back onto the bed. Kissing Grimmjow's red face, I saw how his eyes were glued to his body. He looked stunned at the cum splattered on his skin.

  "I'll start the shower so it's warm for you." I kissed his temple.

  "No. I'll do it myself." Grimmjow suddenly got up and went to the bathroom. His ears were turned back, and the bathroom door slammed shut.

  Sitting on the bed while looking toward the bathroom, I tried to figure out what his reaction meant. Was he just surprised he could cum untouched? Or had I gone too far?

~

  Dragging myself out of bed, I wiped my face while lumbering down the hallway to the stairs. Grimmjow hadn't been in bed when I woke up, but I could hear things moving around in the kitchen and figured it was him. I went down the stairs and saw him putting together coffee.

  "Morning." Coming up behind him, I kissed his cheek while grabbing his ass. Grimmjow jolted with his eyes going wide as he crushed the coffee creamer in his grip. I paused while looking up at him.

  His eyebrows were deeply furrowed, making him look angry. Except his wide eyes and blushing cheeks said otherwise.

  "You okay?"

  "Fine." He hissed and tossed the destroyed creamer bottle into the sink. His ears were flat against his skull as his tail flicked.

  "Hey-" He turned away from me, and I sighed through my nose. Running my hand through my hair, I rested my other hand on my hip. "Look, if I went overboard yesterday....I'm sorry." Grimmjow froze. "I-"

  "Shut up."

  "What?"

  "Shut up." His tone cut deep.

  "What's wrong?"

  "I said shut up!" Grimmjow growled a warning with his hands balling into fists at his sides.

  "Grimmjow, just talk to me." I reached out toward him, hoping he would just tell me what was going on. Then I realized too late that I had said his name with a command, the compulsion acting faster than I could take it back.

  "I want you to do it again." He blurted out while catching my wrist to stop me from touching him. We both froze, looking at each other without saying another word. His face turned a darker shade of red as my gaze drifted down.

  He had an erection.

  "....Oh." Was all that I could manage to say. Another second of silence passed before I pushed Grimmjow up against the island. His hands grabbed the edge of the counter as he looked down at me. I stood between his legs while holding his hips and looked up at him. "Why not just tell me that?"

  His mouth opened to respond, but no noise came out.

  "Aw, is it your pride? Too ashamed to admit you liked getting fucked in the ass?" My hands slithered around his sides to palm his rear and squeeze. He then quickly covered my mouth with his hand while looking mortified.

  "WHAT?!" Nel shot up from behind the couch while yelling and half of a waffle hanging out of her mouth. I bit the inside of my cheek- I had thought she was still up in her room.

  "Fuck." Grimmjow hissed under his breath. We both knew Nel had heard what I said given her demonic hearing.

  "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell. I'm just shocked. It's not bad that you two....do that sort of thing. Just unexpected. Don't mind me." She rambled but didn't look away from us. Glancing up at Grimmjow, I saw him staring straight ahead with his jaw clenched.

  "Sorry." I muttered against his palm, and he took in a deep breath through his nose.

  "Remember, Gamuza. What happens in this house, stays in this house." He had a warning tone, and she pretended to zip her lips and throw away the key.

  "....You didn't see it, but I just zipped my lips. It's something humans do to indicate that they won't speak-"

  "And yet you're still talking."

  "C'mon." I pulled Grimmjow's hand off my mouth. "She's trying to be nice."

  "I don't give a shit." He flashed his fangs and grabbed my jaw. "And we need to talk." He pushed off the island, making me take several steps back before picking me up to throw me over his shoulder. Grimmjow carried me up the stairs without saying anything.

  Reaching the room, he threw me onto the bed, and I bounced a few times. Grimmjow shut the door behind him while staring at me. I waited for him to say something first, wondering where this would go.

  Grimmjow glanced off to the side for a second as his tail curled. When he looked back at me, he cocked his head to the side.

  "You're fucked up." He muttered when he finally broke the silence. "I don't know how to....deal with it. I've never...." Grimmjow shifted on his paws, and his cheeks dusted pink. "You fucked me like you were trying to breed me. Your eyes were feral. I....I liked it. Fuck, I really liked it. I can't stop thinking about it."

  "So earlier with the coffee creamer...."

  "Yeah. You touching my ass had me thinking about it again. No one has ever done something like that to me. No one has done a lot of the things you've done to me. I've lived a long life, Wynter." His ears lowered as his lips curled into a grin. "And you're the most exciting thing I've encountered." Grimmjow took a step closer, then another. "You make me feel things I've never felt. Ache in ways I've never ached. I'm figuring out just how much I like it."

  He crawled onto my lap while looking down at me. His hand rested on my shoulder as his tail lazily swayed.

  "I want to devour you." Grimmjow purred, tilting up my chin with his thumb pressing against my lips. "And be devoured by you." Thankfully, I didn't think he was being literal judging by how he looked at me. "I didn't know it could feel so good. Look what you've done to me." He lowered his hand and pushed his pants down far enough for his hard cock to spring free. "You're intoxicating."

  Grimmjow licked my cheek while purring. He rubbed his cheek against me like he did when scent-marking me.

  "Grimmjow?"

  "Hm?" He hummed as my hands went up his thighs.

  "You're not just talking about the sex, are you?"

  "No. But it's definitely included." I scoffed and wrapped my fingers around his dick. His breath faltered as I began to stroke from base to head and back.

  "So tell me....should I keep this hidden from Nel?"

  "She knows. Tell her, don't tell her, I don't care." He grunted as my fist slightly tightened its grip.

  "Is there anyone you do want me to keep it hidden from?"

  "I don't give a shit. I'm yours." His words coming unprompted surprised me but excited me. Freely admitting that he was mine? What kind of epiphany did he have?

  "Grimmjow, that's what I've been hiding from you." I muttered, and he looked at me as his ear twitched. "How much I like it, too." He gave a lopsided grin and scoffed.

  "Why hide that from me?"

  "You saying it first meant I wouldn't get ridiculed or laughed at. You understanding your own feelings also meant you could understand mine better." I said as Grimmjow rested his forehead against mine.

  "Feels like dying."

  "Yeah."

  "Can't get enough of it."

  "Never." He grabbed my face and kissed me.

  "Give it to me." Grimmjow pushed me down onto the mattress. "Give your all to me." His hungry kiss swept me away. He pressed his body so close to mine and started pulling at my clothes.

  "Wait." I panted, but the demon didn't slow down while grinding his hips into me to get friction against his cock. "I need to ask you something."

  "Hm?" Grimmjow hummed while kissing down my neck.

  "Are you going to stop calling me Little Rabbit?"

  "Mm. Even if you can be a feral little shit," Grimmjow sat up and held my jaw to make me look at him. "you'll always be my little rabbit. You certainly had the gusto in trying to breed me like one." We both laughed before kissing.

  "Man, you're really stuck on that, huh?"

  "You folded me in half and made me cum all over myself, Wynter. That would change any man, demon or mortal." He was still humping and rubbing his cock against me with his impatience making him unable to wait a few seconds longer. "And just to be clear, if you try to fuck someone else, I'll kill them."

  "....What?"

  "If I find out you're fucking someone other than me, I will kill them."

  "I-" Cutting myself off to give me a second longer to process, I then flipped us over to have Grimmjow on his back. "Do you honestly believe I would do that? When I say I'm yours, I mean it. Not to mention, I don't think I even have the energy to have sex with another person. You're a greedy king with a lot of stamina." I sighed, and he grabbed the back of my neck to pull me closer.

  "Damn right. Now, shut up, and lemme eat your pussy first."

  "First?"

  "Yeah. I'm gonna eat your pussy, and then you're gonna fill me with your cock."

  "Wanna wear your cock ring when I do?"

  "Oh, fuck, yes." We were both grinning at each other, completely forgetting about the coffee downstairs.

[isaacforalpha14]

#119 Sam and Dean Winchester

A/N: Third part is here! Don’t forget to chose Sam or Dean for the remainder of the part. 

Benny Lafitte; the cajun vampire from Southern Louisiana, in a morbid romantic gesture tracked down his maker for murdering the love of his life, Andrea, and killed him. It wasn’t until he’d slashed his way through a portion of the nest that he learned the sad truth that she wasn’t actually murdered, but worse, turned into a vampire. He didn’t recognize the woman that stood before him, she was a monster. Before that chapter of his life could be closed, she needed to die and he knew in his heart that he couldn’t be the person that did it. So, like a good friend, Dean shouldered the responsibility and ended her life before she could attack Benny. The tale is tragic; vampire or not. Knowing Dean’s hatred of everything that goes bump in the night, it revealed the character that Benny must possess in order to earn Dean’s respect and trust. Benny is a friend. Wishing that Sam could hold that level of trust and understanding felt daunting, especially due to his response when he shook Benny’s hand and reached for his hunting knife. Dean shook his head, a silent signal to refrain from causing a fight and, in that moment, you’d decided to trust his judgment. Benny seemed okay; besides, he went through hell to make certain that Dean returned topside, that should mean something, right?

Benny is the topic of today’s argument between the Winchesters; especially since Dean remained silent since leaving him behind. It seemed that the cajun vampire was the hypothetical match on the growing kindling of unspoken grievances between the brothers. The electrical tension in the atmosphere since Dean’s escape from purgatory is crackling, the static reaching dangerous heights, aggressively lapping at the brothers like wildfire flames. Someone is going to get burned. The question is should you allow it to happen without interference or at least attempt to negotiate a semblance of peace between them? 

“You wanna talk about Benny? Fine, let's talk.” Dean’s rough voice sighs, stuffing his cell phone in his jean pocket from the Impala’s hood on the driver’s side. Dean’s facial expression- jawline flexed, the crease between his dark eyebrows, puckered mouth and disinterest reflecting in his olive eyes- conveys it all; he’s guarded. 

“How about he’s a vampire?” Sam’s deep voice lowers, attempting to refrain from drawing attention to the dispute. 

“He’s also the reason I’m topside and not roasting on a spit in Purgatory. Anything else?”

“Don’t pretend I don’t get it. I know you had to do what you had to do down there.”

“I highly doubt you get anything about Purgatory.”

“But you’re out now, and Benny’s still breathing. Why?” Sam interrupts dismissing the verbal jab.

“He’s my friend, Sam.” Dean responds after a second of awkward silence, the tone in his voice makes you frown in empathy. Sam doesn’t understand; the bond that Dean shares with Benny is comparable to the trauma bond of soldiers. There’s a heartbreaking amount of trauma and suffering associated with the life of a hunter, it just so happens that Dean’s received a devastating amount more than usual. If anyone should understand the burden of being a Winchester, it’s Sam. 

“And what about my friend, Amy? She was what? ‘Cause you sure as hell didn’t have a problem ganking her.” Sam is doubling down, a hand on the hood of the Impala for support and the left hand on his hip as he stares at his brother in defiance. 

“Well, I guess people change, don’t they? We let that werewolf, Kate, go. Didn’t we?”

“She was different. She..you think Benny’s different? He tell you he’s not drinking live blood, or something.” When Dean avoids an answer, tongue running against his chapped lips, Sam scoffs. “And you believe him. Wow. Okay. You know, you’re right. People do change.”

“Yeah. I got a vampire buddy, and you turn your phone off for a year.”

“Don’t turn this on me.” Sam replies, aware that you’re watching the argument as his hazel eyes meet yours through the windshield. He’d never apologize for the year he got to spend with you. It’s the happiest he’s ever been. 

“Look, Benny slips up and some other hunter turns his lights out, so be it.”

“But it’s not gonna be you, right?”

“You coming or not?” Dean’s rough voice questions, done with the conversation altogether.

The Impala is silent; Dean’s lost in his memories as he drives to the next hunt, Sam’s searching for his meal in the grease stained paper bag in his lap, and you’re preoccupied by the resentment towards Sam for being so obtuse and narcissistic about the Benny issue. The grease soaked paper bag obscures your vision, Sam is turned in the passenger seat waiting patiently for you to grab the food he bought you. He anticipated a thank you, words of appreciation for thinking of you, or a statement of excitement. What he hadn’t expected was for you to snatch the paperbag from his hand, nimble fingers sliding against Dean’s broad shoulder as you give him a reassuring squeeze. You’re with him. The reticent gesture made Sam’s stomach knot, bile rising to the base of his throat as he slowly turned to focus on the food in his lap as he had a sole thought cross his mind, how can you side with Dean?

The Benny argument is nothing compared to this; Dean is standing in the motel room beside his bed, malice in his eyes as he squares his broad shoulders with his pistol pointed at his brother. This hunt wasn’t as simple as a salt and burn; it was a confederate specter attached to an aged penny leaving a string of chaos in its wake of possessions. The scene was jarring; Dean would never physically hurt Sam, he’d spent his entire life being his brother’s keeper, let alone kill him. 

“You should have looked for me when I was in Purgatory.” The vengefulness in his rough voice elicits a shiver down your spine. This isn’t Dean. 

“C’mon, Dean. I know it’s not you in there pulling the strings.” Sam responds, attempting to keep composure and subdue the anxiety within his chest. 

“Don’t.” Dean barks, aiming his gun at Garth for a second as he’d attempted to reach for his holstered gun beneath his cowhide jacket. 

“You never even wanted this life. Always blamed me for pulling you back into it.” Dean states through clenched teeth.

“That’s not true.”

“Really? ‘Cause everything you’ve ever done since you climbed into my ride has been to deceive me. “

“What do you want me to say? That I’ve made mistakes? I’ve made mistakes, Dean”

“That’s not Dean, Sam.” Garth attempts to comfort Sam, the tension in the air is suffocating, he doesn’t want this to ruin their relationship. 

“Shut up!” Dean screams, an awkward and strained silence filling the room. “Mistakes?” He releases a humorless chuckle. “Well, let’s go through some of Sammy’s greatest hits. Drinking demon blood, check. Being in cahoots with Ruby. Not telling me that you lost your soul. Or how about running around with Samuel for a whole year, letting me think that you were dead while you’re doing all kinds of crazy. Those aren’t mistakes, Sam. Those are choices!”

“All right. You said it. We’ve both played a little fast and loose.”

“Yeah, I might have lied, but I never once betrayed you. I never once left you to die. And for what, a girl? You left me to die for a girl?!” Something inside of Sam snaps, a rage building in the pit of his abdomen at his brother’s tone, as if you didn’t matter, as if he hadn’t told his brother what you meant to him. Sam’s movements are swift, he reaches out to clutch at the gun, grasping Dean’s arm in his hand as he wrestles him against the room median. The shattering glass causes you to wince, watching the scene in a helpless sense of anguish. Sam’s hitting Dean repeatedly, the sickening sound of his fists meeting the side of his brother’s head causing you to look to Garth for direction. But Dean’s always been the skilled fighter, he punches Sam causing him to lose his momentum before he headbutt’s him in the face, pushes him an arm lengths away and kicks him away in the chest. The kick sends Sam crashing through the coffee table as you release a scream of surprise. Just as Dean raises his gun to shoot Sam, Garth thrust himself between the brothers, raising his arms.

“Woah, woah, woah.”

“Garth, don’t.” Sam groans, scooting to a sitting position as he holds his stomach.

“No, he won’t kill me. His beef isn’t with me. You’re not gonna shoot me, are you, Dean?” He states with his hands raised in an attempt to show Dean that he wasn’t going to fight him. 

“Move.” Dean growls, raising his gun to Garth’s face. 

“Come on, Dean. You do not want to kill your brother. You..you’ve been protecting him your whole life. Don’t stop now.”

“He left me to rot in Purgatory!”

“All right. All right. Maybe he did. I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But I’m sure he had his reasons.”

“Just like you had your reasons for Benny.” Sam responds in between his attempts to breathe through the pain. Dean’s olive eyes follow your movements as you raise your hands, kneeling down to sit beside Sam on the floor. 

“Who?” Garth’s confused, he knows he’s missed a few chapters but he’s trying his damndest to help. 

“Benny has been more of a brother to me this past year than you’ve ever been! That’s right. Cass let me down. You let me down. Even Y/N let me down. The only person that hasn’t let me down is Benny.” That struck a nerve, a tinge of guilt settles in your stomach as your chest aches. You did your best to search for him. How had you let him down?

“I know you’re angry. But, man, you got to fight this thing. Do not do this! Just let it go. Come on, Dean.” For a split second, everyone took a collective sigh of relief when his posture faltered, almost like he was going to give in. However, the second you placed a concerned hand on Sam’s face to assess his bleeding nose, Dean’s expression darkens and he starts speaking again revealing a truth that no one, including himself, was expecting. 

 “It’s not just that you left me to die for a girl.” He’s clenching his teeth again, tone dangerous as he stares daggers at his brother. “It’s who you left me to die for. You’re supposed to know me better than anyone. You should’ve known that I am in love with her. Yet, the second I am out of the picture you steal her and play house. Goodbye, Sam.” Garth takes the opportunity to punch Dean, causing him to stumble and drop the penny. 

“Ow, God!” Garth cries, shaking his hand out as he bends over to cradle his wounded hand. Dean’s stunned, whether it be from the strike from Garth or from regaining control of himself you’re unsure. 

“Garth, don’t!” Sam shouts just as Garth snatches the penny from the place it had fallen on the ground. 

“It’s cool. It’s all good. I’m cool.”

Stay with Sam Talk to Dean

[kimhargreeves]

Love Bites-Jack Russell x Reader (Werewolf By Night)

Summary: You've been friends with Jack for years. He's told you about his secret once but believe it's just a joke. Quickly you find out that he's been honest with you for a reason.

(I kinda got inspired by the Ice Nine Kills song 'Love Bites' since I'm an alternative/goth girl that likes to include these sort of things, also since it's inspired on An American Werewolf In London and it immediately came to my mind after watching this special. So, this will be a Jack x Reader one shot, maybe it's just me but I didnt enjoy Elsa that much since I'm afraid she's a bit too bitchy but maybe that's my opinion. Anyways enjoy.)

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

Soft classic music continue to play throughout the room filled with expensive and unique paintings, ancient relics and the heads of many monsters that were once hunted.

I huffed to myself and kept on looking at the fireplace, paying attention to anything as simple as that since I didn't want to listen to the few hunters around me. My parents were known well hunters along with the Bloodstone family, though for many years they have been rivals.

My father loved hunting for any sort of monsters, the ones who are a true threat to society and will do anything to harm anyone in their path, though they were certain and had a few friends that were considered monsters but truly weren't.

Or that's the tales I've heard people tell amongst each other. My parents mysteriously disappeared when they both left to go on a mission, I still miss them though.

Speaking of monsters I began to search around the place noticing just one person was missing. To my right I noticed Verussa talking to her step-daughter, we made quick eye contact but we both looked away quick, glaring at whatever was closest to us.

Today us six hunters have gathered for Ulysses Bloodstone's funeral, and for one of us to be in possession of the red stone.

The sour expression on my face quickly faded when I noticed someone walking through the short hall. Immediately I rose up from my spot on the couch and I felt my heart betting faster and smiling lovingly at the man who had just arrived.

"Jack."

The tall man looked down at me and quickly took a step back when he realized how close I had gotten to him. "You're too awfully close, (Y/N)." Jack said going back to his awkward self and his accent still strong as ever.

"How've you been? It's been months since I last saw you." I've become worried after all these months he's been avoiding me.

Jack looked around room we were at so gently he took my shoulder and made me walk away so we wouldn't be heard.

"I-I know it's been long..forgive me but remaining far from you means that you'll remain safe."

"I can take care of my own, Jack. I believe it's you who needs saving." Jack's expression softened when I tell him this.

Without a warning I lean closer to him until I wrapped my arms around him. I feel Jack's body stiffen when I hugged him, I felt him pat my shoulder until he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me off of him.

I smiled up at him sadly when I felt that he didn't want me anywhere near him. "I think you're just in some deep trouble and don't want to tell me the truth." I whisper to him.

I don't think he's a werewolf. Maybe he did something bad and simply wants to hide the truth from me.

"If only you'd knew, (Y/N)." Jack looked away from me and began to walk over to where the bright red stone was glowing. "Beautiful isn't it?" He said changing the subject quick.

I decided to play along and follow him. I stared down at the stone and looked at how truly beautiful, unique and powerful it is.

"So rare and beautiful."

I glanced over to him and noticed him not looking at the stone. I fought back a smile and tried to hide my blush but failed. We were interrupted when Jovan, one of the hunters came to our side.

"Aye take it easy ya lovebirds." The taller man said chuckling to himself. "Fifty seven confirmed kills myself. Next year's my 30th season.

"I can almost smell the blood on your hands."

"Thank you. Aye I like the whole look with the makeup. It's a killer trademark."

"It's to honor my ancestors." Jack replies looking at Jovan then briefly meeting my eyes. My face also being just a bit covered in darker makeup, mostly around the eyes and with black lipstick.

The man looks at Jack and I before nodding his head. "Yeah. Not much for honoring my ancestors and feelings like that. I just know it looks brilliant on you." The taller man says in his thick accent.

"I mean. I know the importance and anonymity in our line of work, but it gets lonely. Just want to say I'm proud to be honoring old Ulysses tonight."

"Ulysses, of course! Hard to believe he's gone." Jack says turning to face Ulysses closed coffin. I remain standing close to Jack.

"Aye the mad bastard. Quite a place he built himself."

I must admit the decor and everything here is quite beautiful and I would for sure love to live in a place like this, only thing to get rid of would be Verussa and this place would be peaceful. Jovan and Jack continue to look at the decor around the room.

The heads belonging to monsters.

"So, any of these hacked beasties your handiwork?" He asks looking at Jack.

We look around until Jack's eyes land on s vampires head. "No... No, but him. Him I fought a few times." He says pointing at the head. "He's never looked so alive."

This earned a chuckle from the older man, both of them continue to joke around until Javon behind to ask me a couple of questions. "What would your parents think of this?" or "Do you have more siblings to keep the bloodline going? That way you'll continue to hunt."

The next one was if Jack and I ever encountered each other during our hunts. I answered that we would often run into each other, which was sort of of a lie, it would be me chasing after Jack and making sure he would be alright at times.

I would tease him and tell him "When are you finally going to accept on going on a date with me?" or also "It gets rather lonely without your company."

Jack would simply remain silent and slowly inching away from the conversation when Javon would listen intently and chuckle, also agreeing that he sort of met his wife the same way.

Jack was saved from his embarrassment when Verussa told us to gather around, she soon began to count on how many monsters we have hunted throughout.

The older woman rounded each of us. "Twenty Seven." with me being the shortest kill count. "Thirty seven kill. Forty three. Fifty seven quite impressive. And over One Hundred deaths give or take." She pointed looking at Jack who looked at her surprised.

"So many death dealers in one room. Oh, my dear." I furrow my eyebrows together when Verussa turns to her husband's coffin. Elsa from behind us takes her time in painfully moving a chair that loudly sounds throughout the room

"Thank you for gathering in ritual for shedding your masks tonight in honor of Ulysses Bloodstone. He was a leader, a friend, s liver without equal. Knowing his spirit would not be with us tonight to stayed his wishes for the ceremonial hunt, he orchestrated his present in other ways."

The coffin slowly started to open and I stare at the man's cadaver surprised, repulsed and sick. Doesn't anyone believe that is kinda disturbing? The rotting body begins to move like a puppet, like a sort of Frankenstein. An audio beging to play of the man's voice.

"I do hope my attendance delights you. Thank you, Verussa, for seeing it through and for shaping our cause like no other."

The rest of us exchange weird looks while we continue to stare at the corpse.

"With my passing, it is now time to choose a new leader in the crusade against monsters. This honor can only be bestowed upon  the strongest and most committed to our mission. Very soon, a monster unlike anything you faced will be released into the sacred grounds. The hunter who slays this beast will become our new leader, taking possession of my Bloodstone. Good luck. I'll be rotting for you."

I scoff at the awful humor and turn to face Jack who doesn't seem a bit surprised now at the corpse.

"The onto weapons permitted tonight have been placed in the garden. The stone will be affixed to the monsters hide. This will weaken it and also make it angry." Verussa says saving up the stone.

"Hold up. The stones finally up for grabs and we all earned the right to hunt, but she gets to crash this thing like it's a backyard wedding?" One of the hunters say looking back at Elsa who's been giving everyone awful looks.

"He brings up a good point. Where's the lovely lady's medallion?"

"Have you check up your own arse?"

"Elsa is welcome to join!" Verussa loudly says. Great now she's going to continue glaring and praying for my death.

"Let's get this shit over then." I tell myself and stood up following Verussa to know in which order we will be entering the gardens.

We each looked down and quickly saw our hands. Jack would be the first to open with me in second place to follow after him. My family has been fighting for years to earn that Bloodstone. I'll make sure to be the one to have it.

🌙🌙🌙🌙🌙

I continue to walk through the gardens and looked carefully at the few footprints I saw on the ground. Carefully I jumped up and grabbed onto the wall above me, I hoisted myself up and remained quiet when I was above the wall and I remained still seeing someone walking to their right far away.  I held onto a dagger I had quickly found when I entered, I won't hesitate to harm the rest if it means that I'll have the stone

My eyes widened when I noticed Jack straight ahead, quickly and quite as ever I continued to follow him until I had scared him.

"What are you doing stranger?" I tease making him jump back in fear and curse in Spanish to himself.

"You're gonna get yourself killed if you continue doing that."

"I'm going to get you killed if you continue to let me scare you." I correct him. "So, are you truly going after this as well?" I ask when I begin to now wally alongside him.

"What sane person wouldn't?" He laughs it off.

"Not if I beat your ass first." I smile and saw him smirk just a little. We both stopped talking when someone stopped in front of us, we looked and saw Elsa.

Bur before anything could happen Javon appeared quickly attacking her making Jack and I split up from each other. "This feels like something only the Scooby Doo characters would do." I hiss at myself as I continued to run and slide into a hiding place when someone got closer and ran past me when they heard Elsa and Javon fighting.

A monster roared throughout the place making me shiver a bit since it sounded a lot louder from any creature I have fought. I need to see if Jack is alright?!

But where the hell is he?!

"Jack?!" I hiss his name and tried to not be loud while I continue to run through the place. "We need to get-" I stopped when I saw him being held to a bush. My mouth fell open when I saw a giant hand holding him.

Before I had the chance to scream, Jack leapt over to me and covered my mouth with his hands. "Don't scream! (Y/N), this is my friend. His name is Ted."

I stared at him confused, slowly he uncovered my mouth while I stared at him then at the giant odd creature. It looks like something straight from those cheesy 1930's film, the creature from the Black Lagoon.

"Please don't tell me his full name is Teddy." I whisper and continue to stare at the creature a bit afraid of it still. I'm surprised it didn't want to harm Jack.

"Don't worry. She's a friend... Don't say that!..Well, of course I was gonna come find you." I stare between them wondering how exactly he understands the swamp looking thing. He oddly looks cute talking to this thing.

"He sort of looks adorable." I mutter looking at the creature now in awe. I've never seen anything like Ted.

Ted's red eyes turn to me and grunt something only Jack could understand.

"Are you okay?" Jack let's go of me and gets closer to Ted. The monster snarls. "You can't keep counting on me to save you. This is the last time. I know, does it hurt?"

The monster grunts. "Yeah, they said that the stone would do that. Don't worry, I have a plan. Look, so apparently these little things explode. So, we're gonna explode our way out of here. All you have to do is don't die."

We heard something from behind us. Jack reached down for my hand and held it tight, now making me run after him until we entered a mausoleum.

"Are you alright, (Y/N)?!" He asked turning to look at me first and looking down at me to check if I wasn't hurt.

"I'm completely fine." I tell him.

We look back and shut our mouths when we saw Elsa in here as well. Ah great. Jack noticed the dark haired woman with a small limp on her leg.

"You hurt? Can I help you?"

"No." The woman strongly disagreed with him helping her in anyway. It angered me the way she speaks to him.

"He was only trying to be nice." I bitterly told her as well now standing my ground as well.

Jack remained silent since he doesn't like confrontations. He began to pace back and forth now trying to find an exit since we were locked in.

I remained still by the door and I felt a pang of jealousy when Elsa accepted Jack's offer and he knelt down by her side and helped her with the injury. I hugged myself and kept on staring at them and glaring at her a bit before I decided to look away. Maybe the reason why he keeps rejecting my feelings is because he doesn't like me in a romantic way.

"Why don't you two get along?" Jack asked making Elsa and I look surprised at each other.

"Their family stole something that belonged to us." We both said at the same time and looked away from each other.

The monsters outside continued to roar, Ted continue to. I glanced over and saw the many tombs of Elsa's relatives on top of others. She began to climb onto some of them and breaking the small window of one.

I closed my eyes wanting to get a bit of rest but it was interrupted when the door to the mausoleum was now open, I stood back straight and followed both Jack and Elsa out. A plan was being brainstormed until Jack accidentally hit the small bomb switch on.

"Oh, shit." We better run.

I began to run ahead of Jack making sure we wouldn't get attacked by someone first. Jack clumsily threw the bomb onto the wall but it hit further than he wanted it to.

"Jack will you please just set it on the small open piece?!" I asked running away from him when I heard quick footsteps approaching us and I dodged a weapon that was thrown to me.

I looked back ready to fight until the bright Bloodstone turned red and Jack was thrown away from it. Everyone curiously looked down at him and so did I.

"The Bloodstone did this to you?"

"He grabbed it and it threw him back."

Verussa grinned at this. "Oh my. A monster masquerading as one of our own. Desecrating a sacred night." She hissed at ordered someone to hold me back when they began to torture Jack.

I felt a hard hit behind head and my vision e came blurry when I blacked out.

🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕🌕

I had blacked out from the massive hit I had received, I held onto my head still feeling an intense pain. I glanced to my left and saw Elsa staring up ahead with a blank expression on her face. I noticed we were replaced inside a huge cage.

A small painful groan was heard next to me along with a few curse words I understood in Spanish. I crawled over to Jack's side and carefully helped him sit himself up.

"Jack! I'm so sorry I didn't believe what you said about you being a monster. I guess..I never wanted to believe that someone like you could harm me..us.."

Jack held his head as well and slowly nodded. "I tried telling you many times. That's why I continued to push you away. I don't want to harm the one person I truly care about."

Jack and I looked at each other and smiled sadly, until he looked away from me and turned to Elsa. He began to explain himself to her, about his other half, the half he has no control of. How he locks himself up every month when there's a full moon.

"We have plenty of time to figure things out!" He said sounding optimistic that we can do something about this.

"And why do you think they've placed us in here with you?" Elsa coldly asked Jack. Realization soon hit me, he'll tear us up if he were to become a werewolf.

"The Bloodstone's capable of transforming you in five seconds. Thanks in advance for making it quick."

"Jack do you really have no control when this happens to you?" I ask afraid of what he'll become soon. I held onto his hands tight when I began to shiver.

Jack refused to meet my eyes, that's until I caught him staring at the many monster heads decorating the room, he stood up looking around until footsteps we heard footsteps approaching. I shrieked when Jack pinned me against the bars and began to breathe against my neck and down to my wrist. I blushed deep red and felt like pushing him away but felt too embarrassed when Elsa looked at him weirdly.

He did the same to her only being a bit more respectful? Should I say.

"I need to remember your scents."

Jack raced over to the bars and stared at the masked hunters hopeful that they'll let us out and kill only him. "Please kill me as I am, or there will be no mercy."

Verussa removed lowered her cloak and removed her mask. "Mercy? This may surprise you but our whole mission is built on mercy for you, and those like you as well as all the innocent lives you take."

The older woman began to talk awful at Elsa and to me as well. Saying how she hoped that I would die soon and that no one else in my family would be alive.

Verussa began to chant in Latin soon. I stared at Jack afraid for him when he began to hold onto his stomach and shiver. Verussa held the Bloodstone to his direction. I fell back on my knees and crawled back in fear holding onto the bars when I heard Jack's limbs crushing and deep growls from him.

I opened my eyes and took a peek and screamed when I saw him yank Verussa by the arm and holding her in place. The top of the cage was now torn and open. I shakily stood up on my feet and saw a guard being ripped apart when Elsa and I took a good look at Jack transformed in his werewolf form.

"We need to get out." Elsa said looking up at the cage. She easily jumped up and hoisted herself up on the cage. "Grab on." She offered me her hand, now without hesitation I took it and made it outside of the cage with her.

Each of us went our separate ways and grabbed whatever weapon we could fight with. Elsa was fighting the rest of the hunters while I began to take most guards down.

I held onto a sword tightly and cut clean one of the guards arms off with blood splattering my clothes and face, easily I decapitated one of them when they grabbed my head and hit me against the wall. "Motherfucker!" I hissed glaring at one of them threw a dagger right next to the side of my face, drawing even more blood down my forehead.

"Jack!" I shouted when I saw more guards trying to kill him. Verussa gripped the back of my head and held a dagger against my neck and the Bloodstone in her other one.

Verussa fell back when Elsa caught her and pulled her so I could get rid from her right grip. I fell forward onto the ground and I saw Jack laying on the ground defeated.

I turned to look back at Elsa then back at Jack. I didn't hesitate so I crawled faster over to him and remained still when I was close enough to him.

"Jack? Are you still in there?" I softly spoke not wanting for anything bad to happen to me or him. All this time I thought he was just joking when he said we had a secret, I feel selfish now for not taking him so seriously.

I carefully reached closer to him until I shrieked and felt my head hit the floor hard when he punched onto me and held me down with his long claws.

I panted and tried to not feel scared. This my Jack Russell not some monster anymore. I stared back up at him, looking into his dark almost unrecognizable eyes. Carefully I placed both my hands against his face and saw him staring at me intently.

"It's over Jack..." I whisper looking at him lovingly. Now fully understanding him.

Jack's werewolf form quickly got away from me and disappeared. "Need help?" Before I had the chance to speak I was hoisted up by Elsa and saw a faint blush across her face.

"We..make a good team." She muttered looking away and now with us both looking at Ted. "Will you be alright?" She asked after a moment of silence.

I nodded my head also feeling embarrassed at her sudden niceness. She smiled just a bit and rested herself on a couch. "Go after him then."

I smiled over at her figure and looked up at Ted. Now taking a full view at how he truly is, red piercing eyes staring into my tired ones. "Can you lead me the way over to him, Ted?"

The creature lightly growled and started to slowly walk ahead, I hurried to his side and followed him until we reached outside of the building and I noticed the bright full moon outside now being covered by the cloudy dark skies.

☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️☀️

Though I was extremely tired and got no chance to rest, I continued to follow Ted until we reached a wooded area, probably in the middle of the woods. Ted who was now far ahead from me began to run and I felt the ground shake a bit before me.

Strangely enough everything seems more lighter and colorful out here. A peaceful sensation like any other.

I squinted my eyes when I noticed a few things up ahead at where Ted went running off. The only sounds from the forest were of Ted's growls and the sound of a river nearby.

My eyes became watery when I saw Jack back to his human form being sat on the ground looking up at Ted. I began to run across the grass and dead branches until I found myself getting closer to the unusual pair.

"Is (Y/N) safe?"

Ted lightly grunted making Jack stare up at him confused. "What do you mean by they are here-" Jack fell backwards on the ground when I jumped over and threw my arms around his neck.

"Jack you're safe!"

Jack continued to cover himself up with a coat while he held my up so I wouldn't fall with him. He sat himself back up with me being seated right by his side almost on his lap. I hold onto his face and examine his tired eyes as I run my hand through his short dark and grey hair.

"I'm sorry that I ignored your warnings, but I don't regret them since in a way I saved you by being reckless."

I stared into his dark eyes and noticed him looking at me concerned, one of his hands carefully landing on my forehead tracing the dried up blood and small cut.

"Did I do this to you?!" His voiced cracked when he asked me this.

I lightly chuckled at him since he continues to be so concerned over everyone but himself. I shook my head and took his hand now staring down at him lovingly then before.

"You didn't."

"Did I scare you?" He then asks.

"I won't lie and say that you didn't when you first transformed. I soon knew you weren't a threat when you tried to protect me and Elsa. I knew you wouldn't harm me when I looked into your eyes. Into the eyes of the man I've always loved." I admit.

Without permission from Jack I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. I quickly pulled back regretting not asking for his permission.

"I-I'm sorry Jack! I should've asked first." I started to move away from him but felt his grip tight on my hip.

"(Y/N). You shouldn't apologize, mi amor."

I blushed again now my entire red face being displayed to him. Jack's hand landed behind my neck now slowly pulling me back to him to resume our kiss. I closed my eyes and enjoyed our longer kiss until we slowly pulled away, embarrassed I looked away when Ted gave Jack a look only he could easily read.

"No, no! Quit saying such things, we don't need alone time." He scolded at the creature.

I now sat by Jack's side and heard him exchanging conversations with Ted. Jack now smiling to himself turned to look at me, "I still can't believe this is real...But are you sure in wanting to stay with a man like me, (Y/N)?"

I blushed again when his dark eyes landed on mine. I reached my side to kiss his cheek took hold of his hand.

"I'll forever remain by your side, Jack."

Jack smiled to himself and continued to hold me close to him. "I'm so happy then, my love. Though I wanted to make sure since..in a way werewolves do imprint when they find the love of their lives."

I can feel my entire face burning red when he mentions that. That's means I'm truly his soulmate then.

Ted who was seated a few inches away from Ted happily growled. "I know you're happy I am as well, but are you seriously asking for food right now?"

I happily sigh and rested my head on Jack's shoulder while continuing to hold his hand. I hear Jack chuckle lightly and feel his hand wrap itself around my shoulder keeping me close to him.

"What do you say, mi amor? Does sushi sound nice to you?"

I tiredly open my eyes and nodded my head. "It's settled down. We'll be having sushi and after that we'll be getting a proper rest."

Jack stood up and helped me on my feet. "I know the perfect place for take out. That way I'll make sure to clean your wounds." I reminded Jack and ran my hands through Jack's messy hair.

Jack eagerly nods his head and continues to insist on holding my hand. I continue to hold his tightly while we continue to make our way outside of the woods with Ted by our side.

[quietplace26]

There's spice at the end~

Werewolf!KK au (5)

It's been a few months since KK shared his past with Akito, and by all accounts, everything was going well between the wolf and human.

But something changes one day. There was something wrong with KK!

The older man's mood was all over the place and he always looked so tired. He also kept disappearing into the woods at random times, carrying with him all sorts of bags of supplies.

Things only got more confusing when KK flat out tells Akito to stay away from him and the woods that night. "Don't worry about me. I'll tell you everything tomorrow. Okay?" Akito reluctantly agrees.

Now here was sitting in the only bar in town trying to past time.

With little to do and not feeling in a mood to write, he sips on his drink and looks through his phone with bored interest, trying to ignore the worry nagging at the back of his mind.

"Look at that! A full moon!" Someone yells from outside, causing Akito to glance over and see the full moon for himself.

Akito froze as he remembered something KK told him. The wolf man had two forms... The second of which only comes out on a full moon.

Akito grips his drink tightly, now understanding why KK sent him away! He didn't want the human to see him in his second, and most likely, dangerous form!

A few people sit down beside Akito. Their converstation quickly catches his attention.

"Did you hear about old man Danzo?"

"No? What did he do now?"

"Someone saw him heading to the forest just now with a gun! He said he was going to kill the beast of the forest tonight!"

Hearing this, Akito threw some money at the bartender and leaves the bar in a hurry! He runs to KK's cabin, hoping desperately that the wolf man was still there so he could warn him of the danger he just heard.

But KK wasn't at his cabin. That only leaves the forest now.

"KK! You better be alright!" Akito hisses ran through the forest, shining his flashlight everywhere, hoping to find KK before that drunk old man did.

He skids to a stop when the sound of a gunshot goes off not to far from where he was. "KK!" Akito runs to the sound, praying that he wouldn't find a dead wolf on the forest floor.

He barely makes halfway to the sound when something large leaps out a bush and onto Akito, pinning him to the ground with a snarl.

In this unexpected attack, Akito loses his flashlight, leaving him in complete darkness.

The hulking figure continues to snarl for a few seconds before stopping. "A...ki?" A rough, familar voice growls confusingly. It gets off of Akito with a whine.

Sitting up, and using the full moon above him as a light source, Akito gets a good look at his 'attacker'.

It was KK, who was more hairier than usual, and so much more bigger now! KK was by no means a small man, but now he towered over Akito easily!

...He also had no clothes on!

And Akito only fully realizes this when he catches a glimpse of... that. Apparently KK's body wasn;t the only thing that that grew bigger...

"A...ki." KK growls, looking at Akito with a not so happy expression. "Told... you to... stay... away!" The wolf man growled angrily, showing how hard it was to talk in his current form.

Akito winces at the how angry KK look. "I'm sorry. I was just-"

He suddenly sees a flash of light behind KK. "Look out!" Akito throws himself at KK just as a loud gunshot goes off. Both human and wolf tumbles through some bushes and then down a hill, finally coming to a stop when they land into the nearby river.

Unlike when Akito fell into the river the first time, the river wasn't as strong now, so it didn't swept him and KK down stream.

Another gunshot goes off and loud cursing could be heard from up the hill. KK turns to the noise with a snarl, and begins to make his way to the sound with murder clearly on his feral mind.

Akito stops him with a panicked whisper. "No KK!" If KK killed that drunk, it could bring unwanted attention on KK himself! Akito just couldn't risk it!

Looking around franically, Akito sees a single boulder sticking out the river near them. It was big enough to hide both him and KK if the wolf man crouched.

By the time Akito gets himself and KK behind the boulder, another gunshot goes off, this one was much closer.

KK was still growling, not once taking his glowling eyes off the hill where the drunk was still cursing loudly. "Where are you beast?! I'll have your head mounted on my wall soon enough!"

Like hell Akito would let that happen! But things only got worse when KK started to move out from behind the boulder, growls now far louder than before!

Akito couldn't let that happen! He had to keep KK behind the boulder! He had to keep KK quiet!

And so, Akito does the first thing that came to mind. He grabs KK's furry face and slams his lips against the wolf man's, silencing him.

Oh well there goes his first kiss...

The wolf man stiffens as Akito kissed him harder, silencing any protest. 'Please don't hate me for this KK...'

Thankfully KK didn't seem to hate the kiss as Akito felt large clawed hands latch onto his hips, dragging him closer to the werewolf.

"M-mm..." A soft, muffled mewl escapes Akito's throat. This kiss... It was making his head dizzy... With another muffled sound, Akito's eyes slip shut and he relaxes into the kiss with a sigh.

As the kiss was deepen further he barely even notices how there was a loud argument going on up on the hill where the old drunk was.

People from town apparently heard all the gunshots and demanded something be done about it as many feared for their lifes. Police were called in and the old drunk was caught. No one listen to his cries about the beast.

When Akito finally notices how they were alone now, he pulls away from KK, panting heavily as he did. "O-okay. I think we-" Akito never gets the chance to finish his sentence as KK plucks him up out the river and throws him over his furry shoulder.

With Akito slung over his shoulder, KK lumbers out the river and into the forest.

Akito doesn't say anything, he just clutches at KK's fur nervously as he was taken... somewhere.

That somewhere ends up being a small cave, where inside KK tosses Akito onto a nest of soft pillows and blankets. "K-KK! What are- M-mm?!" KK lands on top of Akito, pinning him under his larger furry body, and kisses him with a snarl.

This kiss was way harsher than the first one they shared, but it felt just as amazing...

KK nips at Akito's lips roughly, causing the human to gasp at the slight pain. "M..." KK growls out an unintelligible word as he moved to Akito's neck.

"A-ah!" High pitched moans leaves Akito mouth as KK went to town on his neck. "H-hah!"

He-he never knew his neck was this sensitive!

"Ma..." KK was talking. "Mat..." What... what was he saying? Akito wasn't sure... He could barely think as it was...

*rip* Oh no... There goes his shirt... Akito head flies back with a loud cry when KK mercilessly attacks the newly uncovered skin.

"Ma... Mat... MATE!" With that single word echoing around them, KK goes completely and utterly feral.

"Mate?" Akito mumbles confusingly as he let KK tear at his pants, shredding it to pieces. KK's ears twitched and a pleased rumble comes from the wolf man's chest.

"Yes!" KK covers Akito with his body, trapping the human in place. "Mate!"

Akito shivers. He honestly wasn't sure if it was from the KK's tone or the mere fact his bare skin was rubbing against KK's fur covered one.

"Hm~" As KK kisses him again, grinding his much larger body against the human's smaller one wildly, repeatly growling the word mate over and over again, Akito couldn't help but smile dizzily, thinking how he wouldn't mind being KK's mate forever~

[dunbalpha]

@scott94: "do you think i'm a good person?"

eyes momentarily widen, quick to turn to a suspicious squint, brows furrowed in obvious confusion. he doesn't even know how to approach that question, doesn't know how to process it as something scott is seriously asking. sc/ott mcc/all, debating his own goodness. it seems absolutely fucking insane. liam knows that no human is perfect, that everyone has flaws, that everyone makes mistakes. but he also knows, truly believes, that scott is above all that. maybe he's a little too certain of that fact, admires his alpha just a little too much. while things may have started rocky for the pair, there's no doubting just how close they've grown over the years, just how important scott had been to liam. he'd taught him all that he knew about being a werewolf, had held firm in the belief that liam's anger didn't make him a monster. he had believed in liam long before liam ever began to believe in himself, had trusted him, had helped him be better. liam looks up to scott in more ways than he'd ever know how to express, a bond beyond just friends, beyond siblings, beyond anything that people ever understood. the alpha and beta relationship was a difficult one to explain, every pair unique, always shifting. but liam had always looked up to scott, had always considered him a role model, a beacon of positivity in the worst of times. even when scott didn't believe in himself, even when he thought he couldn't handle something, liam had never once doubted him. had never once thought of him as anything other than a good person, than the epitome of what it meant to be good.

" of course you're a good person. " sure, they'd drifted over the years, but nothing could ever change that in liam's mind. he's loyal, perhaps to a fault, and he truly believes he knows the people he loves better than he knows himself. he could rant to scott for hours about all the things that make him good, all the people he's saved, the animals he's helped, the destruction he's prevented. the whole pack had been forced to deal with horrific things far too young, but it had been far more intense for scott, had been a weight on his shoulders that the others never had to bare. to lead a pack, especially so young, is something that liam will never truly be able to understand. sure, he'd had hayden and mason and corey, they had been like their own mini pack, but liam had never deluded himself into believing he was a leader. he never had what it took, he could never step up to the plate. his anger issues had made sure of that long before his anxieties ever got the chance to stop him. but that's just one more thing about scott that he's always admired: he can control his anger, can channel it into something useful. scott never got expelled for violent behavior, scott never destroyed his coaches car for benching him, scott never almost killed someone entirely innocent. and even if he had, liam would always proclaim that it was different. that inherently, by design, anything scott did was better than anything he did. he's completely oblivious to the potential toll it takes for him to put scott on such a pedestal, doesn't think about how it could negatively affect scott. no one had ever looked at him with such reverance before, he had no idea just how it felt, had no idea how an all consuming admiration could be draining. " you pretty much taught me what a good person is. plus, the whole true alpha thing? pretty sure that's the universe telling you you're as good as it gets. "

[theartofruling]

I’m not the man I used to be - Jacen Self Para

Who: Jacen Warren

Summary: Jacen reflects on the rescue efforts during the coronation and how that changed him.

Nights weren’t the same now. They were filled with the nightmares of my rescue efforts. Plagued with the person I didn’t realize I could become night after night caused me to reevaluate who I truly was. Was I truly the quiet as-kept man I claimed to be if I could also sink my teeth into someone’s jugular and rip their heads from their bodies in the process? Was I the nice guy who just existed in the shadows if I could tap into the anger coiling within me and allow it pop out like a jack in the box when they took my sister? Was I Jacen Warren the man my mother raised me to be if I gave more into vampire instinct than my werewolf side? If I filled up on the blood of my enemies and reveled in the kill to save my sister from capture? 

The answer was one I searched for daily now only coming to one conclusion. That man was always there but stifled. There was a part of me that kept my vampire side practically non existent, only identifying as a werewolf. Only participating in werewolf culture because I hated the man who was the deciding factor of me being a hybrid. That man kept me meek and quiet. My father was the reason I remained the silent party until spoken to. 

He was the reason I rarely expressed my emotions or care for anyone else even if I loved or cared for others. My father was the reason I second guessed every word from my mouth or even how I approached people. Even standing at six foot one, I felt as though I were the tiniest man alive in my father’s presence. For over a century, his verbal abuse had chopped me down at the ankles and reduced me from a tree to mere stumps of splintered wood. That was a feeling I associated with him and who he was. I also associated it to what he was. 

I hid that part of myself, eating food that I had no interest in pretending the taste was incredible when I had no taste for it. I spoke little of needing to feed or my preference for blood. Every day, I looked in the mirror as the shell of a man until I had to speak up for my sister in a pack I devoted most of my life to. She took over in a way that had not been very respectful to the current pack Alpha, but blood was blood. Again I made moves outside my character when I had to rescue her. Killing wasn’t necessary but something within me broke. Some part of me tired of lurking in the shadows broke free and reveled in the power of finally acknowledging that they must not have known who the fuck we were. Eastland and their Alpha wasn’t to be messed with and to take her meant the end. To take her meant assured death, and it meant finding the half of myself hidden in fear. It meant a new beginning for me. 

This meant I could now admit to myself that I, Jacen Warren, wasn’t just a werewolf but rather a hybrid werewolf and I could finally start living accordingly. Acceptance from others be damned.

[zaceouiswriting]

A final decision

Character: Derek Hale x male reader

Universe: Teen Wolf

Warnings: Break up

A thump echoed through the house. It was enough to break me free from my deep sleep. Seconds later, I was fully awake, adrenaline pumping through my veins. Not long ago, a mob of hunters tried to kill everyone I knew. Of course, I was on edge. Even with the new house we now live in. I did not feel safe, actually the exact opposite.

When I almost jumped out of bed, I was already gathering all my strength to fight again. But when I opened my bedroom door, I couldn't see anything strange. No, unfamiliar smells and no other noises. Instead, it was almost eerily quiet.

Slowly, as quietly as possible, I walked down the hall to where I thought the sound was coming from. But when I got to the door, a knowing sigh came out of my mouth.

I already knew what I would find behind it. Still, I opened it on the other side, most of the room was destroyed. The last thumb I heard was the malefactor falling onto his butt, which he was still sitting on.

Big tears were running down his cheeks. I don't know why he was still having trouble with it, but it had been like that for weeks.

After the first few days, I was already over it. But didn’t want to make it even worse for him. This has to stop! „What do you think you are doing, young man?“ My threatening voice caught the boy off guard. With wide tearful eyes, he looked up at me. It almost broke my heart.

I tried to stand my ground, but he just looked so broken. So I sat in front of him to pull him into a hug. This time, he didn’t even try to fight me. He just leaned in and cried on my shoulder.

We sat like that for a while, my hand stroking his head, fingers slowly and carefully running through his middle, long hair. I tried to talk to him to get to know the big problem, but he wouldn't tell me. 

„Okay, then you are ready to get out of this room and at least eat with us!“ I ordered him. I knew he didn't agree the moment I said it.

But I took him with me nevertheless. He wasn’t as strong as me, and we were the same height. So no overpowering me in any way or form.

„Derek, I took the puppy out of his room. He needs to socialize. Before I lose my mind. We have to buy new furniture… again,“ but my husband didn’t seem fazed. He just had a sour expression on his face.

I knew he was against me turning Gabe. But I couldn't let the poor boy die because he believed in the wrong ideology. Everyone deserves a second chance.

But he still believed in this ideology, at least it seemed like it. He was our only topic of argument lately. Still, I didn't let him take the boy down after the first few times.

„I don’t think the rest wants to socialize with a murderer they-“

„They also connect with you, Sulkywolf. And with me, Peter, Theo, Jackson, and even the twins. But they wouldn’t talk with Gabe?“ I asked him loudly for the entire house to hear. It wasn’t long until the first of our children arrived in our kitchen. All with questioning looks on their faces. They heard us arguing at least once a day for over a month since the last fight with the hunters.

„It’s not the same! We didn’t-“

„Yeah, he was a hunter. Doing something he believed was right would save people's lives. Just as every one of us does. We kill because we see the need in it.“

Still, we couldn’t get to a good point with our loud discussion. I know one of the reasons the others don't like Gabe is that I pay more attention to him. If they knew what it was like to be ripped out from the place you think you belong to and believe in, to be forced into the camp you were against, they wouldn't be so disrespectful, but as long as they do not want to see it, nothing would change.

Gabe is not my first hunter who turned into a werewolf. So I know some of the struggles. But for some reason, he took it exceptionally poorly.

"We don't kill, (Y/N)," Scott added softly to Derek's argument.

„How did this work out for you, Scott? Where is Lydia? Malia maybe? What about Erika? How did your none-killing mentality work for you and your pack? You are not even an alpha anymore. Because the moon god doesn’t favor you anymore!“

„That's enough! Don't talk to him like that!" Derek yelled in my direction.

I was utterly flabbergasted at his tone. He never raised his voice in this manner. And everything I did, was telling this brat how it was.

„Derek, I'm a born alpha from a lineage much older than yours could ever be. I know things you only could dream of. And you tell me that I don't know what I'm doing? Who helped you and paid to get your family property back after you lost almost everything?“

Even with all of these arguments, Derek wouldn’t step down. After all, he was a proud man. But I had it with this bullshit.

„You know what? You seem to have forgotten whom you're talking to. I am your husband and current alpha of this dysfunctional pack. But I'm also the son of an alpha, who would be very happy if I would go back to him to take over.“

Before Derek could realize what was happening, I was already taking the ring off my finger and throwing it into his face.

„Take this as me cutting myself free from you and this bullshit here!“ I screamed finally back at Derek. No one in the whole house has ever heard me screaming. Let alone get angry unless one of them got hurt.

„I will not foster this behavior. If I had been here sooner, I could have raised some of these brats better. But I'm sick of cleaning for all of you, taking time from my day to cater to all of the needs of everyone here. And I'm sick of not being respected by the brats you raised, Derek!” I finally finished my second outburst.

Without letting anyone say anything, I stormed upstairs again. To pack my stuff. But it wasn't long before I heard quite a chaotic mess downstairs.

It didn’t take long until I had most necessities. Which I used to work my way back down. Where I found Gabe cowering in a corner, „What the fuck happened?“ I asked in silent rage.

„Gabe get your things,“ he did not need anything else to be said. He was running as if his life depended on it.

„Please, you can’t do this to me, Babe. You are these kids’ mother figure, and you know this,“ Derek told me this often. I've never had a problem with that. I'm a motherly dude, after all.

„Isaac, Aiden, Ethan, Theo, Liam, Corey, get your things,“ they all scrambled before I needed to repeat myself. It was all a blur, none of them registering that I hadn't told the others to pack their things.

„Mason and Boyd, you both need to decide yourself. Boyd, I know you are loyal to Derek. So I won’t take it as an offense, and Mason, we would need to ask your parents beforehand. But in Canada, we also have a beneficial school system and many opportunities.“ The two boys, who barely knew each other looked stunned. For a moment, they stared into each other's eyes. Boyd said nothing but still left the room, and Mason was faster on his phone than anyone could’ve thought was possible.

I waited while the remaining people looked at me, only one person wearing a smile on his face, Peter. „I told you that was going to happen," he whispered in his nephew's ear before walking away, laughing at his nephew's stupidity.

I waited not even for ten minutes before everyone came back with all their things. Gabe was close to me, in fear of the others. I didn't know what happened while I was gone, but it must have been unpleasant.

„We're going now. Mason, are you ready to?"

„Yeah, we only need to get my things from my parent's home. And they need the address so they can visit sometimes.“

„Great, I would like to show them my hometown. They're wonderful people, after all,” I told him before looking back at Derek.

„We will clear the rest in court. Because the house is in both our names,“ my voice cold as ice, as I told him my final decision.

Finally, I could free myself from this situation. Derek is a good guy until it comes to Scott, then he gets irrational, like a needy puppy or something. Always being on his side, should they be happy with each other. With this last thought, I left the house I once called home, right after the ones I consider my children.

[Masterlist]

[randomshyperson]

The Scarlet Witch Prophecy - Chapter 13 - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

My dear friend @abimess, I keep stealing your gifs and making updates without telling you. I hope you never get tired of it.

Summary: As the youngest daughter of Howard Stark, you have ordinary expectations for your years at Hogwarts. Little do you know what adventures await you when your destiny is intertwined with the legendary Scarlet Witch.

Warnings: +16. Adaptation of the Harry Potter Saga, Magical Thematic, Prophecies, Mentions of Violence, Torture and dark magic, Language (swearing and minor/major offenses), manipulation of will, Underage kissing, insinuation of smut with minors, Smut (overage), descriptions of death, aggression, obscurity, angst, fluffy, soulmates analogies. || Chapter Warnings: Magical torture with minors, cursing, angst, ptsd, derogatory thoughts and behavior, dark magic.

Chapter Words: 8.486 K

A/N> Yes, I've gone for a month without warning anyone, and yes that might go on, but at least i'm near ending this (I'm already writing chapter 21). Once I'm finished, I'll just programe tumblr to upload them all for me because i'm lazy. I hope anyone like this yet, i don't even know what i'm doing anymore. Good reading!

Series Masterlist ||  Read on AO3 || All Works Masterlist

Chapter 13 - Part XIII - The Sixth Year (Part Three)

Gossip really starts to irritate you when you go to lunch after potions.

"You want to say something to me, girl?" You charge impatiently when you hear the giggles behind you again, coming from a group of students sitting at Ravenclaw's table.

The group turns around with wry smiles on their faces, and you notice the editions of the Daily Prophet in the hand of one of the boys. It is Hope Summers, your classmate, who speaks first:

"We're just sharing some theories, Stark." She says in a provocative tone. "Some of us find it an interesting coincidence that just now that Mephisto is back, you and Maximoff are losing control of magic."

You frown.

"What are you talking about?" you ask in surprise, referring to Wanda, but Hope thinks you want her to keep mocking you.

"It's just suspicious that no one knows what happened to you in that dungeon, or at the ministry of magic." Hope counters. "And now you two are blowing things up, and we have a dark wizard on the loose."

"Fuck you, Summmers." You curse as you stand up, leaving the girl in shock at your aggressiveness.

The same auror from the first day stands in front of you as you try to approach Slytherin's table.

"Students must respect..."

But you interrupted his speech with a loud shove that sent him staggering backwards, and drew the immediate attention of several people.

You were seeing red by now, the man's wry smile only making you more irritated.

He drew his wand, but so did you. And the room held its breath.

"Put your wand away, Miss Stark." Warned the auror angrily, but you didn't.

Wanda stood up as she noticed the confusion, rushing to reach you, but the auror put his arm in her way.

"Now, miss." He warned again, and you grunted in irritation.

"Get your hands off her." You retorted, feeling your body fever with hatred.

"Stark." The man said, his arm reaching down to push Wanda back, and you exploded.

You didn't even finish thinking about the spell, the magic exploding out of your wand.

The auror masterfully blocked it, and you dropped your wand to jump on top of him.

It was a confusion of shoving, other bigger students pulling you away from the man and he away from you.

" Never fucking touch her again!" You warned snorting in anger, Thor Odinson stopping you from jumping on the man's neck.

"I just pushed her away from the line of fire, you crazy bitch!" The auror retorted indignantly and angrily. "Go to the headmaster's office now!"

"Fuck you!"

Thor pulled you out of the hall as the crowd of students whistled in celebration, excited about the whole fight. The auror was too busy dissipating everyone to follow you.

"Hey, hothead, calm down." The blonde warned as he released the grip of you by the courtyard. You grunted angrily, wishing you could break something.

"Fuck this school, fuck that asshole." You complained aloud, as Thor looked at you curiously.

"You have quite a rage, Stark." He comments, and you grumble in irritation.

But Wanda catches up with you the next moment, and she looks even angrier than you.

"What the hell was that?" she asks and you roll your eyes, running your hands through your hair.

"I think you are going to be fine for now on." Thor comments, smiling at the thank you Wanda says to him before leaving you two alone.

"So?" Wanda insists, arms crossed. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at her.

"What do you want me to say?" You retort angrily.

"You just started a fight for no reason! Again!" She accuses. "Only this time it was with a wizard who could kill you. I want to know what's going on!"

"I don't know, Wanda!" You exclaim angrily. "Why does everyone expect me to have answers? I don't know! Do you understand that? It feels like I'm going to explode in frustration any second, neither you or Gamora seem to get it. I don't understand what's happening to me!"

"Because you won't talk to us!" She shouts back, just as annoyed as you are. "You're pushing everyone away! Even me! We can't help you if you don't talk to us!"

You grunt impatiently, turning around. There was a strange throbbing in the back of your head, a strange whisper. Like a voice telling you that no one was telling you the truth, that your friends expected too much of you, that Wanda didn't care...

This last thought made you sob. Wanda softened her expression immediately, taking a step toward you and touching your shoulder, but you pulled away from her touch as if burned, wiping your tears away quickly.

"Leave me alone, Wanda." You mutter between teeth. She hesitates, raising her hand toward you again.

"Please."

"I need some time from you." You insist, pushing her hand away, and walking away.

A part of your brain is begging you to go back and make things right, but there is a cloud of anger and irritation that keeps you walking.

//-//-//-//-//

You roll over in bed in discomfort.

Nightmares. Again.

It has only been five days since you had your fight with Wanda, and you are getting worse every day.

With Summers' teasing, you end up noticing other things too.

How the school really found the theory that you and Wanda were somehow related to Mephisto, because the minister had covered up what happened in the dungeons and in the ministry, and everybody thought it was strange that two students were showing an increase in magical potential with the return of a dark wizard.

Unlike you, who were failing considerably in any simple execution of spells, Wanda was demonstrating exceptional abilities. Kaecilius was more than willing to make her the face of progress at Hogwarts, you heard the gossip about bringing in reporters to share the news of the new direction.

You know that the only reason Wanda hasn't come after you yet was because you're running away from her like the plague.

And you couldn't even explain why.

You were also blocking out your real health condition from her. Just like you two practiced during the summer.

Besides hiding this from Wanda, you have kept your friends away too, isolating yourself from everyone else in search of a little rest, only succeeding in taking a nap when you are running away between classes.

And the detentions with Kaecilius keep increasing as you skip classes.

You begin to consider learning to write with a different hand, just so the bruise has time to heal, but at this point you don't even care about the scar anymore.

"You really must like pain." Loki teases wryly as you sit in an empty room, waiting for the aurors' shift change again after your detention.

You don't ask him what he's doing on that floor again, and he doesn't ask why you haven't spoken to your friends in two weeks.

"Sure, that must be it." You joke back, massaging your injured hand.

He assumes a pensive expression for a second.

"Are you sure you haven't been cursed by someone?" He asks, causing you to frown in shock and confusion.

"Excuse me?"

He gives a little chuckle, settling himself better against the wall.

"Everyone's been talking about you being sick." He says. "I heard some of the Ravenclaw people theorize that you became a werewolf over the summer."

You laugh helplessly, massaging your temples lightly.

"I guarantee that's not it." You say making Loki smile.

"If you are sick for no reason, it could be a curse." He says. "I wouldn't be surprised, the way things are."

"But how do I find out if I've been cursed?"

Loki takes a thoughtful stance.

"I don't know." He says. "But I'm sure you can learn that in the no longer reserved session of the library."

You laugh at the joke, but soon you both return to silence. When that hallway's shift ends, Loki sighs, getting up and helping you to stand.

"Still can't perform spells?" He asks, already drawing his wand.

"Only if I want to blow things up." You scoff making him laugh.

"Fine, I'll enchant you." He says. When you are transparent, he looks at you with an amused expression. "See you next Saturday, troublemaker?

"Don't worry, I plan on skipping DADA, maybe I'll be here tomorrow." You retort in the same tone before turning to leave.

//-////-//-//-//-//

It takes three more days for Wanda to finally corner you.

You are skipping class in an empty room on the seventh floor, trying to doze off, and almost fall out of your chair with fright when the door opens and Wanda comes in, looking annoyed.

You grunt impatiently, without lifting your face from the desk.

"I told you I needed time." You complain, but tense up when you notice the tears in her eyes as she moves closer to sit at the table next to yours.

" You want to break up with me?" She asks in a whisper and you raise your head immediately, feeling your chest tighten.

"What? What are you talking about?"

Wanda gives a humorless laugh at your expression. "Why are you acting like this is an absurd idea? You've disappeared. You've been avoiding me, not even talking to me anymore."

You shake your head quickly, feeling the urge to cry.

"I don't want to break up with you." You say. "I..I would never want to be away from you."

"You just said you need time away from me." Wanda retorts with annoyance, and you feel your stomach clench as she sighs. "I don't know what's going on with us. And I miss you, but you won't let me near you."

You are exhausted. So you cry.

You rest your head on your arms, and let your sobs fill the silence, hoping that the tears will take this bad feeling away.

It's Wanda's gentle touch on your back that helps.

"Babe, tell me what's wrong." She whispers to you, her tone concerned.

It takes many minutes for you to calm down. But when you do, Wanda holds your hand, kneeling on the floor beside the chair you are in.

"I can't do magic." You breathlessly tell her from crying, "And I can't sleep. I've been sick for weeks, and I'm angry all the time. Healer Cho doesn't know what's wrong with me, but everyone at school seems to have a theory about it. I think I'm going to suffocate, Wanda. I'm messing everything up. Between us, between my family, and at school." You sob as you finish and Wanda shakes her head, her hand coming up to your cheek.

"Don't say that." She urges. "You didn't ruin anything. Hey, look at me. I love you. Your sisters love you, your friends love you. We'll figure out what's going on."

Wanda hugs you tight, and you sob, shaking.

You want to believe her words, so you push the intrusive thoughts away, and believe it.

//-//-//-//

Wanda takes you to a door in that same floor you two were before, but you have never seen that door until that moment.

And you are very surprised to realize that it is a bedroom.

"How...?" You ask confused as she closes the it.

"Welcome to the Room of Requirement." She says with a smile, pulling you by the hand around. "We hold our Avengers meetings here." She counters and you frown.

"In a bedroom? Interesting choice." You comment and she giggles.

"No, my love." She says. "That's how this room works. It is charmed to meet your needs. That's why I asked you to come in first."

"Oh, that's pretty cool." You say looking around. Wanda smiles at you, and then you both reach the bed. "The room thinks I have to sleep?"

"I do too." Wanda retorts, pushing your shoulders gently for you to sit on the bed. "Go on, nice dreams."

You hesitate. "You gonna leave me here alone?"

Wanda denies with her head, pointing to the chair that probably just magically appeared next to the bed. You frown.

"Can't you sleep in the bed with me?"

She giggles. "We don't have much time for you to sleep. If I lie down, you'll want to kiss me. So I'll be sitting in that armchair, studying as I should." She explains seriously, and you pout.

"Stupid rules." You grumble moving your hands up to her waist. "Lie down with me."

"Babe..."

"Please."

Wanda sighs, then nods. You smile, quickly removing your shoes as she does the same. You quickly adjust yourself on the bed, opening your arms for her to lie on top of you, and she gives a little giggle before doing so.

"Are you cozy, sweetheart?" You murmur against her hair, and Wanda squeezes her arms around you.

"Yeah, your boobs are good pillows." She teases, making you laugh with reddened cheeks.

Your eyes begin to heavy quickly, fatigue catching up with your body relaxed by the comfort of the moment.

"Go to sleep, babe." Wanda whispers. "I'll be here when you wake up."

You smile with your eyes closed, surrendering.

It's the best sleep you've had in weeks.

The problem is that as soon as you start to wake up again, you are feeling sick.

You touch the emptiness in the bed, mumbling softly. When you open your eyes you find Wanda sitting in the armchair, the darkhold in her lap.

"Damn it, Wanda, this book again." You complain in a hoarse voice, but she just sighs.

"Why the attitude?"

"I hate that book." You grumble sitting up in bed, massaging your face lightly. "Why do you keep reading it anyway?"

"It's interesting." She says, closing the item to look at you. "Agatha really told me a lot, but there are also things I didn't know."

"For example?"

Wanda bites her lips, appraising you.

"Scarlet witches are forged, for instance." She says and you frown in confusion. Wanda sighs. "Many powerful witches, born scarlet witches, never got to fulfill their destiny because the forging didn't happen."

You straighten your clothes uncomfortably, pensively.

"What exactly does that mean?"

"What the headmistress did last year was my forging." She clarifies and you swallow dryly, feeling your stomach turn. "I'm sorry."

"For what?" you ask confused.

"Everything." She says upset. "I know we've talked about this, but it seems like all I do is cause you problems. With the bond, and with the forge. If Agatha didn't want my powers, she wouldn't have taken you to the dungeon and you wouldn't have suffered."

You poke at the knot of your tie, feeling yourself suffocate slightly. Wanda is speaking, you blink to focus on her words.

"I'm sorry, could you say that again?" You ask out of breath, sweating. You blink to find Wanda's concerned gaze on you.

"Babe, what's wrong?" She asks worriedly, her hands around your face.

You feel your head spin, and everything goes dark before you can answer.

//-//-//-//

You smell the scent of grass when you wake up.

Then you blink in confusion, getting used to your surroundings to realize that you are in what looks like a ward bed.

"Hey, all right, take it easy getting up, Miss Stark." Asked Professor Strange with one hand on her shoulder. In the other he held a potion that you imagined he had given you.

"W-what happened?" you mumbled confusedly, sitting up in bed. Only now did you notice Professor Munroe and Wanda standing in front of the bed, both with worried expressions.

"You passed out, but you're better now I imagine." Stephen explained gently, but you were still feeling very weak.

"Professor, she simply blacked out." Wanda commented in a tearful voice. " Don't you have any idea what's wrong?"

Stephen sighed, and then pointed at the chair, the darkhold.

"Where did you get that book?" He asked, and Wanda frowned, taking a step toward the chair in a defensive posture.

"What does that have to do with my question?" she retorted dryly, and Stephen looked at you one last time before standing up.

"There's a reason it's called the Book of the Damned, Miss Maximoff." He says."It damns its readers."

"That's ridiculous." Wanda retorted, crossing her arms. "I've been reading it for weeks and nothing has happened."

"Not with you."

Wanda hesitates, widening her eyes. And then she takes a step back, swallowing her cry as she reaches out to grab the book and hand it to Stephen.

She turns her gaze back to you, and lets the tears fall.

"I am truly sorry." She says with a mixture of guilt and shame before turning to leave the room.

You call out to her about three times, but she leaves and you don't have the strength to go after her.

"Damn, couldn't I have said that in a different way?" You complain angrily to Stephen, who just sighs, exchanging a look with Professor Munroe. "How come you two are here anyway?"

"It was Wanda." Professor Ororo replies. "She asked the room for someone trustworthy to help her with you. Then there was a door opening in the potions room. Stephen was there with me, and we both came."

"Great." You mutter annoyed, thinking about how you are going to talk to Wanda and convince her that you were not angry with her. "Would either of you happen to know how to make me better now?"

"Sure." Stephen comments by raising the book in the air, and with a wave of his hand, the item dissolves into several pieces until it is gone. "I didn't destroy it, if that's what you're thinking. I just put it away, to prevent something like that from happening again."

"Congratulations." You grumble wryly as you straighten up in bed, the same migraine from before is now weaker, but it's still there.

"You know, you had a better attitude when you didn't have a magical doom on your spirit." Stephen complains, causing you to frown, but Professor Ororo gives a chuckle.

"Thanks professor." You comment wryly, making him laugh. He sits back down beside your bed, and pulls out of the cover a small notebook.

"Now that Miss Maximoff has stopped reading the book, I suppose you will get better." Stephen says, making you sigh.

"You suppose? That's encouraging." You say moving to stand up.

"Where are you going, Miss Stark? You need to rest." Warn the professor, but you ignore him, and ignore the weakness in your body as well.

"What I need, Strange, is for people to stop lying to me."

"No one is lying, Miss Stark." Professor Ororo states next. "We really don't know the extent of the magic the darkhold carries."

"And why is that I imagine?" You sneer. "Because someone omitted the truth from you, and it's been passed down for generations, isn't it? Well, that's over now. Because we've finally studied everything in this place, including a book that condemns anyone who reads it." You exclaim impatiently, stooping down to put on your shoes. "If you two will excuse me, I'll figure out how to get better on my own. But first I'm going to explain to my girlfriend that none of this is her fault."

Ororo and Stephen are silent, but you wouldn't have been paying attention to anything they said anyway.

Soon you are up and out of the requirement room looking for Wanda.

//-//-//-//

She seems to have disappeared from the castle, so you must concentrate to use your instincts.

The hardest part is dodging the aurors, but you finally reach the astronomy tower.

You're a little out of breath from the run, but it's the image of Wanda standing on the edge, the sunlight in her hair that leaves you breathless.

"Hi." You say in a low tone, your hands in your pockets as you approach. She startles slightly, wiping away tears as she keeps her gaze forward.

"What do you want here?" she asks in a husky voice. You sigh.

"That you stop hating yourself and listen to me." You say and she lets out a short laugh.

"And what do you think you can say?" She questions turning her body toward you. "All I do is hurt you."

You shake your head, but Wanda lets out a tearful laugh.

"No you don't understand." She says. "Since I met you, you have only brought me good things. Affection, happiness, hope. You've been that kind warm feeling that I need on my worst days. Hell, you're even the memory for me to cast a patronus." She confesses with emotion, her face wet with tears. "But me? All I bring you is pain and suffering. And now I even bring sickness. This is wrong, I hurt you. You need to see this, and understand that we can no longer happen."

"Don't say that." You ask, reaching up to touch her face, wipe away her tears. "That's not true, Wanda. I love you, you make me..."

"Stop it." She interrupts with a sob. "Don't make it any harder than it already is."

"Please, Wanda, listen to me." You plead, resting your forehead on hers, your hands on her cheeks. "You make me happy, you are the only thing that makes me happy, I love you, please..."

Wanda kisses you hard, and you respond with the same intensity, both of you gasping into each other's mouths.

But then she is pulling away, thrusting you farther apart.

"I'm sorry." She cries, taking a step back. "We're over."

And she's running away again, and this time you don't go after her.

//-//-//-//-//

Without Darkhold's being consumed, you really start to improve in terms of physical health.

The only problem is the emotional ditch you find yourself in.

Gamora, Nebula and Mantis find you, again in the Room of Requirement, skipping class.

"My god this is worse than last time." Gamora remarks as she looks around at the mess of junk food and pillows. The room had been transformed into a "comfortable place", which basically had the appearance of a living room, with several soft armchairs, and lots of unhealthy food. "Why did you guys break up this time?"

"Please don't talk to me." You grumbled, your voice coming out muffled because you were lying on two soft puffs, your face buried in the pillow, your hand inside a bag of muggles snacks.

"I bet you five bucks they'll be back together before the end of the month." Nebula commented and you sniffled against your pillow, hearing a noise that sounded like Gamora hitting her sister.

"We talked to Wanda." Mantis said. "And with Professor Stephen, too. We're sorry about everything, but have you decided you're not going to study anymore?"

"I don't care about school." You grumble against the pillow. "Leave me alone, I want to cry."

Nebula gives a short laugh, and Gamora elbows her.

"Stop hitting me, you crazy." Nebula complains loudly, moving away from her sister to approach you, taking the bag of snacks you have, and making you complain softly. "And you stop being such a drama queen. Aren't you two like soul mates or some shit? It's just a fight, you'll work it out. You're acting like you've never broken up before."

"Your sensitivity is admirable." Gamora scoffs, pushing her sister away to sit next to you, stroking your back until you look up at her. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

You feel the urge to cry arise again. "Wanda thinks she is bad for me." You say. "And she doesn't want to be with me anymore, and I want to die."

You start crying again, stuffing your face into the pillow as Gamora strokes your hair.

"How did this happen anyway?" Nebula asks, confused, chewing on salty snacks."You barely slept at home over the summer to be with her, and now you guys are breaking up. It's hard to keep up with this relationship."

"Merlin, Nebula shut up." Gamora asks impatiently, and her sister raises her hands in surrender with an ironic expression. You want to scream against your pillow, but all you do is try to control your crying.

"You can't keep disappearing, sweetheart." Gamora says as she runs her hands through your hair, trying to calm you down. "Kaecilius has already noticed. He's trying to figure out where you're going, and eventually he'll figure it out since you can't stay here forever."

"Maybe I can." You mumble making Gamora laugh softly.

"Come on, I'm sure you miss a decent meal." She says. "Why don't you join us for lunch?"

"I can't sit at your table."

"Who said anything about a table?"

This is how you end up on the edge of the great lake, at a picnic.

Mantis gets several dishes from the house elves, and since lunch is a free social hour, nobody seems to mind that you are eating outside.

Your sisters are not the only students who, over time, have learned ways around school rules.

You grumble slightly as you feel the sun on your face, but lie back on the grass, closing your eyes.

Your mind wanders back to last summer immediately, the memories of Wanda, and you feel horrible. You just want her back. And then you swallow the urge to cry again to accept the juice Mantis offers you.

"We wanted to tell you that we've found a way to help you, too." Gamora says after a moment, causing you to raise your eyebrow. "About the darkhold, and the eternal damnation thing."

"Light topic." You sneer, throwing your arm over your face. The day is hot. "I appreciate the help, of course."

Gamora giggles. "Merlin, I had forgotten how grumpy you get when you're upset."

"I'm not upset, Gamora." You retort angrily. "I'm frustrated."

"Sexually." Nebula sneers, making you grunt in anger, but Mantis holds back a laugh.

"What's your problem with my feelings lately?" You accuse the girl with irritation.

"Not everything is about you, you know." She retorts and you sit up quickly, looking at her with a raised eyebrow.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Nebula laughs, rolling her eyes. "In case you haven't noticed, there's a war going on." She says. "We're all stressed and scared. And the three of us have been in the same classes as you, having to watch the same things. But you only have time for Wanda. And now you've broken up, again, because there's some mortal danger, again, that she's caused for you. So, I don't know, but maybe she is right to break up. Ever since you guys started dating everything has been about her, and the trouble she causes!"

"Fuck you, Nebula!" You exclaim angrily, advancing against the girl in front of you. Gamora and Mantis quickly separate you.

"Hey, what's wrong with you?" Gamora shoves you. "Were you really going to hit her?"

"Fuck this." You curse angrily, taking a step away. "I didn't ask any of you to come after me. I don't need you. I just need Wanda. Fucking leave me alone."

You turn back to the castle, cursing the wild on your way.

//-//-//-//

Loki is the only friend you have now.

You wouldn't call him a friend exactly.

Kaecilius has put you in detention for three days a week, including Saturday, but mostly you just clean the castle. But when he takes you to the seventh floor, and makes you scrape sentences against your own skin, you don't worry about being alone anymore, because Loki is always on that floor.

It takes a week for you to tell him about the requirement room.

" You could have mentioned it earlier, we would have stuck around here." He comments without sounding upset.

Soon it doesn't take long for you two to start seeing each other even when you're not in detention.

You are not surprised that Loki also skips classes, he has always been quite mischievous, but the reason is different from yours.

He knew dark magic. Much more than you or your classmates. And he has no interest in practicing it in class.

"It's stupid." He comments as you are sitting in the armchairs. "Most people will never have the courage or willpower to cast a death curse. It's useless to learn."

"Is that the only reason you don't agree with the teaching at Hogwarts now?" You ask in surprise, setting up the chessboard for yourself as Loki shrugs his shoulders.

"I feel like you're judging me, Hufflepuff." He sneers but you smile, rolling your eyes.

"Honestly, I don't give a damn."

And you really didn't care.

Wanda was avoiding you in the halls, and you were doing the same with your friends and family.

When Iron delivered the mail to the Slytherin table, including Nebula's birthday presents, you wanted to throw up, but all you did was walk away from the Hufflepuff table toward the requirement room.

Without the darkhold, you didn't feel sick, but the anger didn't go away.

Your magic hadn't stabilized, and you were failing at everything, but you couldn't bring yourself to worry about it.

Erik wrote to you, commenting on the importance of you and Wanda practicing magical balancing together, and you burned the letter while crying on the carpet.

And at this rate, time went by.

It was almost the middle of the school year when things started to take a turn for the worse at Hogwarts, and in the wizarding war as well.

Mephisto is getting stronger, and the order is losing. And Kaecillius must be under some pressure from the ministry, maybe for answers from organizations like the Avengers, which are forbidden, because his detentions get too horrible.

It is Saturday again, and you drag yourself to the room where you are supposed to fulfill your detention, but unlike the other days, Kaecillius locks the door.

You only notice because he seems tense and distracted, and there is no feather or book.

"Professor, what will my punishment be today?" You ask confused, and he is nodding to the center of the room as he stands in front of the desk, a few feet from you.

"Miss Stark, today I want to ask some questions and I expect honesty." He declines as he turns to you.

You hiss softly, putting your hands in your pockets.

"Shoot."

Kaecillius doesn't even mind your lack of formality, looking at you with an impassive face.

"What is Mephisto's location?"

You choke in surprise and disbelief. "Excuse me? Why do you think I know that?"

"The ministry has reason enough to suspect that the Order of the Avengers is nothing more than a cover for the death walkers.Your brother, whom I had suspected of being part of that order of delinquents, is no longer at Hogwarts, but you will have to serve." He speaks and with each word you become more outraged. "Now answer me, where is Mephisto?"

" Did you just fucking call my brother a delinquent?" You mutter incredulously. "I have no idea where Mephisto is, what's your problem?"

But you widen your eyes when the professor draws his wand, and you barely have time to swallow dry before the spell hits you in the chest.

It's the cruciatus curse. You know the second it hits you. The sharp pain fills every cell in your body and you scream, not having the strength to stand or with your eyes open, hugging yourself.

"We must not tell lies, Miss Stark." Kaecillius says as soon as he stops enchanting you, the pain disappears in the same instant, but you continue to tremble.

In complete shock and fear, you sob.

"I will ask you again, where is Mephisto?"

You let the tears flow, and shake your head. "I don't know, professor."

Kaecillius lets out a sigh of disappointment. "Some cases are more difficult than others." He comments somberly, taking a step toward her. "Did you know that the record for enduring the Cruciatus curse before madness is six hours? Incredible, isn't it? It happened during the first war, with a muggleborn. You're a half-blood, maybe you can take longer"

He has a devilish grin as he finishes, and you clench your jaw at the threat.

"I don't know where Mephisto is." You repeat, but the professor points his wand at you again.

"My bet is seven hours."

And then the pain returns.

You don't know how long you stay in that room.

But it is long enough for your consciousness to begin to fade. The pain gets so severe that it gradually fades away. You begin to gasp breathlessly, not even able to scream anymore.

Someone help me. Please, help me. Help me. Wanda.

Between the tears you see the floor of the room, and between a twinge of pain, a red light. And everything is dark again.

//-//-//

“Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Warcraft and Wizard is arrested in flagrant by aurors from the ministry of magic this week, full coverage on page..."

You blink confusedly, your eyes getting used to the clarity, while the headline of the Daily Prophet was the first thing your vision caught.

And then you shifted in bed, realizing that you were in a hospital room , and whoever was reading next to you put the paper down when they heard you, and you could behold the curious look on your brother's face.

"Tony?" you whispered confused, and he smiled as he stood up quickly, the newspaper forgotten on the armchair.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" He asked as his hand reached for the loose strands of hair on your face and put them back. "You scared the hell out of me."

"What happened?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

You thought, and then sighed, closing your eyes for a moment.

"Kaecilius."

Tony bit his lip nervously before speaking.

"I'm sorry." He said, lowering his hand to his own. "I came here as soon as I got the howler from Professor Strange, but honestly, I didn't even need it, because all the newspapers are talking about it."

"What...?" You started in confusion, but Tony hurried to explain.

"Wanda found you, Y/N." He told. "She, well, wasn't exactly happy about the whole thing. I think she lost control. Kaecilius is lucky to be alive if you ask me. She almost destroyed the seventh floor, it was a huge mess. And then the aurors interfered, and soon there were reporters everywhere. I guess now everyone knows she's a scarlet witch."

You widened your eyes, straightening to sit up and grumbling a little in pain. Tony looked at you with concern, asking you to take it easy, but you were already asking about Wanda.

"She's at the ministry of magic." He clarified. "Kaecilius is going on trial for torturing a student, and she will answer for putting everyone in danger."

" What?" you ask incredulously, and Tony sighs.

"Yeah I know it's unfair." He says. "But the minister of magic seems to be looking everywhere for people to blame for his lack of control. The problem is how much of that information will get to Mephisto. The whole ministry seems to be full of walkers."

You ran your hand across your face, frustrated.

"I'm so tired, Tony." You confess in a whisper. "It feels like everything is falling apart around me, and things are only getting worse."

Tony squeezes your hand. "I'm sorry, I really am. This whole situation sucks, and I wanted to help you. I'm trying, sister. I haven't been talking to you as much as I should, but I didn't want you to think you're alone. I'm working on breaking the bond. To free you and Wanda from the prophecy, and the wizarding world from dangers like Mephisto. I'm sorry I haven't been by your side."

You swallow your cry, and nod, trying to smile at Tony. He reaches up to hug you, and you gasp softly, taking a few seconds to relax and let the tears flow.

When you calm down, Tony tells you that he is going to get a Mediwizards to check your situation.

You lie down again, sighing softly. The memories come back with full force, and you choke softly, feeling your body tremble.

It's as if you can feel the curse again, sense the pain on your skin. Opening your eyes and shaking the memories away, you swallow dryly and reach for the glass of water on the nightstand.

You just want Wanda by your side telling you that everything is going to be okay.

//-//-//-//-//

You stay under observation for two days.

Doctor Hank makes a joke about you enjoying St.Mungus more than you should since you keep coming back, but Tony doesn't laugh.

Then you' re going back to Hogwarts by train, because the doctor thinks you shouldn't use magical means of transportation for a few days, and it's weird to take the empty express, but as soon as you arrive at the station, Gamora and Nebula are waiting for you with boxes of candy bought in Hogsmeade, and tight hugs.

You are not surprised by the stares you receive from the other students, but you ignore them as your sisters escort you around the castle to the Hufflepuff communal hall.

"Did you get to talk to Wanda?" Gamora asks as soon as you sit down on your bed, sighing with exhaustion from the train ride. The mention of the other sorceress' name doesn't help.

"Not yet." You say. "And I wouldn't be surprised to hear that she's ignoring me."

Nebula exchanges a look with her sister before sitting down on Mantis' bed, who is hugging her knees and looking at you.

"Honestly, I just want to finish this year without any more problems." You confess as you take off your jacket. And there is a moment of silence before you swallow dryly. "I also wanted to apologize to you guys."

Gamora frowns slightly, but says nothing. You take a deep breath.

"I know I was under the influence of an evil book, but that was still no excuse for treating you guys like that." You begin. "Tony told me about how things are in the wizarding world. Everyone is going through something, and it was selfish of me to think that only my problems matter. I'm sorry."

"Really, Y/N, it's okay." Nebula says, surprising you a bit. "We were all stressed, and well, I think an evil book is a pretty fair excuse." She jokes, making you smile. "Maybe things will get a little better now that Strange is the director."

"Oh, that's right" You comment just then remembering the things Tony updated you on while you were at St.Mungus. Like Kaecillius' resignation, and the position being passed on to Professor Stephen. "But honestly, I won't be at peace until I hear from Wanda."

"The trial isn't until Friday. And the way things are going, we won't get any news until it's over." Gamora warned as she sat down on the bed next to you. "I think the Maximoffs are probably too busy to write."

"What do you think will happen to Wanda?" You ask as you tug at the loose strands of the comforter. Mantis sighs lightly.

"I don't have a good feeling about things, Y/N." She confesses and you frown in concern. "And the stars never lie."

"Thank you, Mantis." You mock softly, and Gamora runs her hands through her hair.

"Let's not be pessimistic, okay?" she says. "Maybe the predictions are about, I don't know, the school finals? It doesn't mean something bad is really going to happen."

You grumble unhappily, grabbing a pillow and sinking your face into it. Gamora strokes your back.

"I'm sure things will work out, Y/N." She says. "Wanda will write as soon as she can."

"Do you guys think Kaecilius will be sent to Azkaban?" Nebula asks next, making you raise your head curiously.

"I wouldn't be so sure." You grumble. "I was actually surprised that he was put on trial at all."

"Well, with the whole mess that happened, it was bound to happen." Gamora said. "More than half the school became aware that he used the cruciatus curse on you, and then the daily prophet. And I didn't even know they were in the castle."

"It was because of Wanda really, wasn't it?" Mantis added. "Kaecillius caused his own ruin. He called the journalists to show what he called progress and decided to torture a student while they were in the castle. Then Wanda destroyed the entire floor and the next morning his arrest was all over the pages."

"I'm just really outraged to know that if no one had seen it, he would probably still be at Hogwarts." Gamora says angrily, and you sigh, agreeing as well as the others.

"Well, you must be hungry, shall we go to the great hall? It's almost dinner time." Gamora comments next, pulling you by the hand. You grumble softly, but agree, and soon you are leaving the communal hall to join the rest of the students.

//-//-//-//-//

You are tapping your fingers gently against the desk as you wait for the History of Magic class to begin.

It is Friday, finally.

You have barely slept because of anxiety about news of Wanda's trial.

Things at Hogwarts have changed a lot this week, all because of Strange's administration.

He restored the old classes, banned the teaching of dark magic, the scandal at the Daily Prophet being enough of an argument that the Minister of Magic no longer had a defense over this kind of teaching at Hogwarts. The restricted session of the library was also put back, and the seventh floor was off-limits because of the destruction Wanda caused, and you unfortunately lost access to the Requirement room.

Mantis was writing what looked like a lunar calendar for the divination class while Professor Okoye didn't arrive, and you started whistling distractedly.

And then Thor Odinson was poking you in the back to get your attention, and you turned around in your chair.

"Hi, Stark, what's up?"

"Fine." You grumbled suspiciously. "Can I help you with something?"

Thor looked almost unsure. "I was just wondering if you know of anything going on with Loki."

You frowned. "Excuse me?"

"I mean if you know if he's sick or something." He explains. "We had a fight, and well, he's not talking to me. And I've noticed that you guys have been kind of close lately, and I was curious if you knew anything and..."

"No, Thor, I'm sorry." You interrupt with a sigh. "Maybe you should ask him that."

Thor assumes a sad expression. "I would, but he's ignoring me. I think it might be about our mother."

You make a confused expression, and Thor looks surprised.

"Our mother, she...died earlier this year, Y/N." Thor counters, and you widen your eyes. "Our family is a name of reference against Mephisto. With the war, the walkers came to our home. She was there while we were here, and Dad was at the ministry."

"I'm so sorry, Thor." You whisper to him, still shocked by the information. He shrugged.

"I thought Loki told you."

"We don't talk about things like that, I guess." You say. "Sorry, I wish I knew how to help you."

"No, it's okay." Thor says with a sad smile. "You being his friend this year is more than enough. I don't like seeing him all alone out here."

You nod lightly, settling into your chair as you notice the teacher entering the room.

Mantis exchanges a look of understanding with you, having overheard the conversation even if accidentally, but she says nothing, and soon you are hearing about the witch hunt in the United States, and you try to focus on that rather than curiosity about how Wanda's trial is going or Loki's current emotional state.

//-//-/-//-//-//

As soon as lunchtime begins, you join the Slytherin table, where some of the students have placed a radio on the table, equally with other students from the other houses, to listen to the trial.

You are not surprised that a student's trial is such an interesting topic for everyone, but after the school started talking about Wanda being a scarlet witch, and the theories circulating around the halls, it was to be expected.

So you sit back while biting your fingertips and listening.

"And now directly from the Ministry of Magic, the trial of seventeen-year-old witch Wanda Maximoff, daughter of legendary witch Erik L-"

Your attention is slightly diverted from the narrative when loud laughter catches your ears.

They are Gryffindor and Slytherin students, exchanging coins. You don't need to hear the conversation to know they are gambling about the trial, the mean laughter and glances in the direction of you and your sisters are enough.

And as if she could feel your growing fury, Gamora touches your shoulder gently.

"Just ignore them, Y/N." She urges and you clench your jaw. " Everything is going to be okay with Wanda."

"I hope you're right, Gamora." You grumble, turning your attention back to the radio.

The narration of the newspaper is generic, and you discover that the audience has been closed off to the reporters.

You take a deep breath, concentrating.

No strange feeling, so Wanda is safe.

You wonder if Erik and Pietro are by her side during the whole thing.

It is only at the end of lunchtime that you have the result.

"It's amazing how things unfold in the ministry this afternoon." Counted the reporter with almost excitement. "After a unanimous vote, the witch Wanda Maximoff was found guilty of endangering her fellow students by not registering as a scarlet witch to the ministry of magic, after it was proven that her father, the sorcerer Erik Lehnsherr knew of her condition, as well as the affiliation with the criminal, Agatha Harkness was also mentioned. The ministry finally decided on Wanda Maximoff's expulsion from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizarding"

You felt your stomach plummet.

And everything became a little muffled around you, a soft whistle in your ear. You think Gamora and Nebula were calling for you, but you were getting up, feeling the room getting too small.

Stumbling out, you loosened the knot of your tie, finally stopping in the courtyard as you leaned your body against a pillar.

Wanda had been expelled from Hogwarts, publicly exposed as a Scarlet Witch, and tried as a criminal. You wondered if they would break her wand. Banned wizards led horrible lives.

Your sisters and friends caught up with you quickly, and you let them hug you.

In a few minutes Director Strange is catching up with you as well, and you release Gamora's grip to talk to him.

"Professor, I need to..."

"You cannot leave Hogwarts, Miss Stark." He interrupts with a wave of his hands and you frown in confusion, ready to protest but he is already speaking. "Tony sent a patronus as soon as the results came out, he already figured you'd want to see Miss Maximoff. The ministry is a mess, and Wanda will be staying with her father there for the minister's final decisions. You should stay here, where you are safe."

"That's not fair!" You squawk angrily. "Wanda needs me, I must-"

"She needs you to be safe." He interrupts again seriously, and then lowers his tone slightly as he notices the curious looks of the surrounding students. "Be rational, Miss Stark. Now that the Wizarding community knows the nature of Wanda's powers, how long before Mephisto has enough information and discovers your identity as protector."

You swallow dryly, clenching your fists begrudgingly. Stephen is right. You look away, and he sighs, placing his hand on your shoulder.

"Wanda will be fine, even without her NEWTS, she is an extraordinary witch." He says. "And the year is coming to an end, soon you will be able to see her again."

"She needs me now." You grumble annoyed, turning away from the professor's touch. He looks at you for a moment and then clears his throat.

"I'll see what I can do, Miss Stark." He says."In the meantime, focus on your studies, and be careful."

You frown at Stephen's words, but he is already turning and leaving before you can ask.

As you turn to your friends, Gamora has a worried look on her face.

"Are you okay?" She asks, and you sigh, agreeing to hug her again as you mumble no.

"I can feel how upset she is, Gamora." You grumble against your sister's shirt, wishing you could hug Wanda now. Gamora squeezes you against her arms, and you thank her for her intention even if it isn't enough.

The next few days are like a blur for you.

Many letters arrive, as do many editions of the Daily Prophet.

When the picture of the day Wanda's wand was broken comes out on the front page and you see her tired face, you have to run out of the common room to keep from crying in front of your colleagues.

Everyone writes to you, even Carol, everyone but the Maximoffs.

It is frustrating, and honestly, it breaks your heart in many ways.

The news of a Scarlet Witch after a century is almost as bombastic as Mephisto's return, and you're not surprised that many of your colleagues would start to comment on the possibility of Wanda working with him or against him.

It's overwhelming how everyone talks about her, but all you can feel is how much you miss her around the castle, around you.

You couldn't even remember that your magic is stable, and with everything that has happened, you haven't had time to figure out how to fix things.

Stephen tried to help, but he didn't know what was going on. At least the theoretical part of magic you were able to master, and you hoped to get at least an acceptable score in some subjects.

Only almost a week and a half after the trial, Professor Strange interrupts the potions class to talk to you.

Ignoring the curious stares and whispers of your classmates, you ask Professor Munroe to excuse you, and leave the room.

"What is wrong, professor?" You ask curiously as you close the door, watching Stephen with his hands in his pockets.The dungeons feel emptier without the ministry aurors around the castle.

"Saturday, in the Astronomy tower, nine-thirteen at night." He says as he hands you a small gold key, causing you to frown in confusion. "You will have exactly one hour, Miss Stark. Not a second more."

You stare at the object in your hand, and understand. A portal key. To Wanda.

"Thank you, Professor." You say, and Stephen nods before leaving.

You turn back to potions, the object in your pocket. You could barely contain your anxiety.

//-//-//-//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight || @iliketozoneout || @blackwow34 // @tiny--freak || @spongebobtentacles || @cyberbonesworld ||

A/F/N> Place your bets for my next comeback (a week, a month or tomorrow?). If I delete the blog, and you're in love with this story for some reason I don't know about because there are so many better things to read, know that I'll post everything on AO3 if I ever do.

[sourwulf]

so remember when the guy at the school was holding a gun to stiles' head and scott's dad saved him? can u do something similar but this time he saves u in the same way during the whole deadpool thing? thnx

༄  word count  —  1.5k

፨  characters  —  stiles stilinski

☓  tw  —  guns, blood, death

⊹  cw  —  violence

✎  masterlist

─

you were currently in the girl’s locker room putting your stuff in your locker after track practice. you’d stayed a little longer to get an extra couple of miles in, and now the sun was setting, making the school dark inside.

you were standing in the shower under the hot water, letting it run over your tight and sore muscles when it suddenly went cold, making you quickly rinse your hair before tying a towel around your body, drying yourself off, and getting dressed. you pulled your hair out of the towel that was covering you a moment ago and brushed it out.

you knew scott wouldn’t be happy with you being alone — what, with all the dead pool stuff going on. you were the only human on the list, and you were worth significantly less than everyone else — seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. everyone else was over a million, but not you.

none of you knew why you were even on the list in the first place. everyone else was a werewolf, banshee, or some other kind of creature. maybe it was simply because you were friends with them, or maybe because you had information that no one wanted to get out.

either way, your friends didn’t want you getting hurt. and since you didn’t have the same abilities and powers everyone else did, you were told to always be with someone who could protect you.

and the person you were paired up with was stiles. you two weren’t super close when everything started, as you’d only been friends for a couple of weeks. but sleeping over at each others’ houses every night and spending your free time together caused you two to bond, and now you were like two peas in a pod.

but you’d finally managed to get some alone time, and you’d never been so thankful to be alone. you enjoyed spending time with stiles, but you also really liked having some time to yourself outside of class.

but when you started hearing footsteps outside the locker room, you looked over to the door. you took a few steps toward it and they stopped before retreating and going the other way. you figured it was probably just a janitor, so you turned back to go to your locker.

you stopped in your tracks, though, when you almost walked into a taller man who wasn’t there before.

you jumped backward and he just smirked at you.

“this is the girls’ locker room,” you said nervously.

“oh, i know.” you looked down to see a gun in his hand and gulped, realizing that being alone in the school probably wasn’t the best idea. it was an old revolver, one with a hammer you have to pull back to shoot. “i just figured almost eight hundred thousand dollars was worth a trip into the wrong locker room.”

he raised his weapon to point at your stomach and your eyes went wide.

“wait, you don’t have to do this. i-i’m not supernatural, i’m just a regular person. you’d just be killing a random girl.”

“the list is supernatural creatures. and you’re on it. why else would you be on it if you’re not?”

“i don’t know! i’m trying to figure it out. i swear, i’m not a werewolf, i’m not a banshee, kitsune, anything.”

you could tell he thought about it for a second. “i don’t believe you.”

“why would i lie?” he looked down at his gun then back at you. “okay good point.”

“fine. i won’t shoot you. if you tell me where your friends are.”

you sighed. “they’re in the cafeteria.” he perked up a bit. “or the library. or, actually, they may be in the gym. or they may not be here at all.”

his expression changed to that of anger, and he pointed his gun directly at your forehead, only a couple of inches from your skin.

“i’m gonna count to three, and then i’m gonna shoot you.”

you scoffed nervously. “you don’t scare me.”

he pulled back the hammer, the barrel rotating. his index finger landed on the trigger and you could feel your heart pounding.

“one.”

so many thoughts raced through your mind. you recognized that you were about to die, the thought making you want to vomit. you had so many things you wanted to say to so many people that you’d never get the chance to say. you wanted to help your friends find out who the benefactor was.

“two.”

and you realized you couldn’t. time seemed to slow down and you took a deep, shaky breath, closed your eyes, and let a tear fall.

then, suddenly, a loud bang. but you didn’t go down. instead, you felt liquid splatter on your face, and you flinched so hard your legs almost gave out. you opened your eyes to see the man in front of you with a hole in his forehead, and he collapsed.

you sputtered, blood droplets shooting through the air. you finally let yourself breathe, looking up to see stiles, an expression coated with just as much shock as yours.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, your voice cracking.

“lydia. she-she told me to come here.” he walked over to you and gripped your shoulders. “are you okay?”

you quickly nodded. “i’m not dead, so yeah. i’m good.”

he walked you over to the sink and pulled his jacket off, wetting the fabric and wiping your face. he didn’t speak, and you just stared at him until he was almost done.

“stiles.” he finally made eye contact with you, the look of anxiety still lace on his face. “are you okay?”

“yeah, of course,” he said unconvincingly.

“you just shot someone.” you looked over at the body and the pool of blood next to it. “you can’t possibly be okay.”

“i’d have rather shot someone than lost you.” you wanted to smirk at how cheesy that sounded, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“where’d you get the gun?”

“it’s my dad’s. he keeps it in his nightstand.”

“we should call him so he doesn’t get framed for murder.” he nodded, scrambling to pull his phone out. “wait, stiles.” you reached up and gripped his hands. he looked at you. “you can talk to me. i can imagine shooting someone in the head doesn’t just roll off the shoulders very easy.”

“we can talk about it later,” he responded softly. “i have to call my dad.”

you nodded, letting him dial his number.

—

someone shook you awake, your eyes shooting open. you looked around, still in the familiar sheriff’s office. you were laying on the couch by the windows, and you must’ve fallen asleep.

you’d spent a good hour answering questions with stiles, and it was well after midnight now. you looked to your side to see stiles, who was squatting next to you.

“you ready to go?” he whispered.

“what time is it?”

“almost three.”

you nodded, swinging your feet onto the floor and stretching. you followed stiles out to his jeep after saying goodnight to his dad.

sitting in the front seats, he didn’t turn on the ignition. you turned your body to face him and just waited for him to say what he was thinking about.

“no.”

you raised your eyebrows. “no? no what?”

he shook his head. “you asked me if i’m okay. i’m not. i’m not okay. when you were asleep and i was waiting for my dad to tell us we could go, i just... i let myself think about it. i... i took someone’s life tonight. i shot someone in the head. i have someone’s blood on my hands. and, i would do the same thing over if i had to because i had to save you, but...” you reached over and rubbed his upper back with his hand. “i just can’t stop replaying me pulling the trigger in my head.”

“i know. i can imagine. but you didn’t really have a choice.”

he nodded. “i know.”

“he could’ve killed all of us if he was still alive. he wanted to know where you guys were. he could’ve killed scott, lydia, malia, any of you. what you did... it saved a lot of lives. maybe... if you try to think about it like that, it won’t be as hard to live with it.” he nodded again. “i mean this life... it’s not easy. we’re always under attack, trying not to die. it takes a toll. i mean, shit, i had a gun to my head tonight. because i’m worth almost a million dollars to someone that we don’t even know. i almost died because someone values money more than life. you defended me, stiles. you saved my life. you should at least be proud of that.”

“i am. i’m glad i was there. i just wish i could’ve done that without killing someone.”

“unfortunately that’s not always an option. tonight it wasn’t. he was gonna kill even more if he wasn’t killed.”

“i know.”

you weren’t sure what to say. you’d never dealt with this kind of situation before. so you leaned over and pressed a kiss to his temple, seemingly comforting him.

“wanna go back to my place?” you asked, yawning. “my mom is home.”

he nodded, and without another word, turned the key in the ignition, heading towards your house.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dire, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: One fateful night. That was all it took for Jeon Jungkook’s world to turn upside down. One mistake, one lick to the face, and something between biology? a spell? and now he’s horny as fuck for a Dire Wolf. Who needs catgirls when you have doggirls, right? 

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, world building, mentions of death, blood; eating raw meat; mentions of (species) discrimination and prejudice; violence; smut (fem reader, too much m-masturbation, m-receiving oral (ish?); saliva everywhere lol); non-idol!AU - werewolfAU; werewolf!reader x blond, human!Jungkook; switches between Jungkook’s POV and your POV; is JK a furry? you decide

tried to keep it fast paced during the world building, hopefully it doesn’t feel as long as it is haha and yes there’s a rap line cameo slipped in there hehe inspired by YOASOBI - 怪物 (Kaibutsu)

--

He shouldn't be out so late at night. He had lost track of time, stayed out too late, and now he was paying for it, running, trying to stay swift and quiet, keeping out of the streetlights. The sky was pitch black, oppressively towering over the city. The moon was high above him, thick and full. 

A howl tore through the darkness.

The hair on the back of his neck raised. His breathing shallowed and he tried to move quicker, hiking to the tips of his sneakers, trying to avoid the fallen leaves. There was no one walking around. No one else would be crazy enough to be out this night. The wind swirled around him, as if it too was afraid, hurrying him along. Another howl followed. 

And then another. 

And another. 

Panic rose within him, breaking out into a full out run, not caring anymore about being silent because there was scraping now, claws on asphalt, insatiable huffs mixing with growls. 

This was why they had curfew on the nights of the full moon. 

He was going to die. 

Anyone in their homes was off limits. But he wasn't in his apartment, he wasn't home, and he was going to die, he was going to die, he was going to–

Strong arms grabbed his body from the air, dragging him into an alleyway. He almost screamed, but a hand clamped over his mouth, grip like iron.

A human hand. 

He was slammed against the alley wall, brick cutting into his thick hoodie, pain shooting up his back, tearing it up as he was thrown down onto the dirty sidewalk. The body followed, flattening over his. For such a strong grip, the weight was not as heavy as he expected. The stranger was wearing a dark hoodie as well, incredibly oversized, similar black jeans to his, but it was obvious they were several sizes too big, swamping the legs inside. 

He whimpered as his head was pushed into the brick. 

"Silence, human."

The hand was still over his mouth but his eyes widened. The voice was low, grating, yet distinctly female. The other hand, her left, popped up and he saw the tattoo on the back of her hand, a number below a wolf symbol.

Stay away from the Dire.

The Dire were the reason he was running. The Dire were the reason he was going to die. The Dire were the wolf people that lived among them, too many to not be members of society, but hated for what they were. Essentially werewolves, but not as romantic as the folktales like to make them. 

She reached up and lowered the face mask.

He could smell it on her breath. 

Blood.

He was going to die. 

He started at her teeth, sharp, pointed, a true carnivore, almost too big for her mouth. Still, he was surprised to see her mouth was mostly human, full lips, smooth skin. He thought all the Dire were forced into wolf form during the full moon. 

"Stay still."

She licked him.

His eyes went wide, unexpectedly seeing her lean over, long tongue extended, slobbering on his cheek, all the way to his temple. It coated his face, the scent of blood and something else – thick, intense, and heady, unlike anything else he had ever felt in his life. His eyes rolled back in his head, entire body shuddering at the touch, thighs quivering. Her hand pressed harder against his mouth and she drew back, turning her head, waiting. 

The snarls neared, then stopped. 

"I swore I smelled human here."

Heavy, thudding steps. His eyes snapped back to see the shadows dancing on the wall. Huge, misshapen shadows. Multiple ones. The fear rose within him, but she pressed her hand down on his lips, shaking her head just barely. Her body was still on top of his, covering it. He was very aware of her weight now, firm, solid. He heard more noises. Rustling. Harsh sniffing. 

"Ugh, let's get out of here. I smell a claim," came a deep, disgruntled grumble.

"We can take them." Higher pitched, a little annoying.

"Smell it, you fool."

A snorting whiff.

"Fuck, you're right. Let's get out."

Then the heavy steps bounded away, claws clacking on the concrete. 

She waited until the night was silent for a full minute before removing her hand from his mouth. His face was still covered in her saliva. He raised his hand to wipe it off, but she growled deep in her chest. The sound tingled throughout his nerves, igniting them. 

"Do you want to die, human?"

He froze at her cold tone. She backed up, hood falling.

Suddenly, he forgot how to breathe.

She had tall, pointed ears, fur silvery in the moonlight, with black tips. Her hair was wild, the strands probably thickened from the full moon. Whatever her usual eye color was replaced with bright yellow, flashing as she scanned the area outside the alleyway. She had a mole underneath her right eye, near the inner corner. 

She sighed, standing up. A bushy silver and black tail poked out from under the hoodie. Despite her smaller frame, there was sheer power in her stance, an unmistakable predator. 

"W-Why aren't you in wolf form?" he wondered out loud, breathless in awe.

She turned her head to look down at him. Something flitted in her eyes. Then her gaze hardened. 

"How close is your home?"

He swallowed, shakily standing up, aching all over. He pointed. "A block from here."

She stepped back, ticking her head. Her silvery ears were straight up, tufts of white hair sticking out of them. They looked soft, pretty. 

"Go home, human. The world will be yours when the sun rises."

She left quickly, light steps in her wake. 

-

You shadowed him until he entered his home. 

He didn't notice. 

Dumb human, almost getting himself killed.

-

The Dire wolf people lived among them. Some had good jobs, worked hard, and even had respect from human society. But most had low-paying jobs, poor reputations, and were behind bars. Because at the end of the day, they were carnivores. They hunted. They ate meat. Most of the time they hunted animals in the forest, with one exception. Any human out during the full moon was free game, no reprimand. Any other time was considered murder, but the full moon was theirs. That was the deal between the Dire Alpha and the nation. 

It was not a great deal, but that was the deal. 

Even though the Dire looked human most days, a few things gave them away. The ears, the fluffy tail, the teeth. Some Dire had them removed, clipped, or filed, for style, in shame, whichever. But every Dire had the tattoo on their left hand, complete with the identification number. If you didn't have a left hand, the national government put it wherever it could be visibly seen. 

That was also part of the deal between the Dire Alpha and the nation.

If you asked Jeon Jungkook, he tell you this deal was absolute shit, but there really wasn't anything anyone could do about it. 

No one except the Dire Alpha and the government.

We all know the old ones are set in their ways. 

-

"How much?"

Jeon Jungkook raised his head at the familiar voice. It wasn't as grating or rough as before, but it had a distinctive raspy huskiness to it that he recognized instantly. 

It was the middle of the day, at the local butcher's shop. The air was frigid, mostly to help keep the meat fresh. The prices were cheap here, definitely cheaper than the supermarket chain. 

He looked up to the counter to see a huge bag of meat sitting on the scale. Raw, red, bloody. The figure was wearing a dirty oversized black hoodie and jeans that were about four sizes too big, swamping the legs. Not that imposing, but there was something about that voice that made it imposing. 

The left hand slid out of the hoodie and sat on the counter. Wolf tattoo, numbers. Nails painted black, a wolf ring on her middle finger with glittering, opalescent stones for eyes. Her pinky had a simple silver band. She hasn't been wearing those rings on that night.

The butcher curled his lip and stated the price. 

Jungkook could see the weight from here. He did a quick calculation and furrowed his brows, marching up to the counter. 

"That's twice as much as you charge me."

The butcher looked startled that Jungkook had cut in. The hooded figure was wearing a face mask but there was no mistaking the mole under the inner corner of the right eye, even if she had her normal eye color now. 

"It's... it's higher quality meat!" the butcher sputtered, alarm rising in his throat. 

"Oh, shut up," the woman spat, reaching into her hoodie and dumping bills onto the counter. "There's no need to lie. Dires can do math as well as you, human." She grabbed the bag from the counter, growling. The butcher crawled back in fear, hand fumbling for the knife behind him. 

"Keep the change."

She yanked the bag off the counter and stalked away. Jungkook stared at the bills and shot the terrified butcher one last glare before he rushed out to follow. She wasn't that hard to find. The bag of meat was huge. It bulged against the thin plastic, almost breaking. Jungkook ran up to her, skidding on his sneakers and grabbed the bag from below, hoisting it up. 

The Dire turned her head, raising an eyebrow. 

"It'll fall," he explained, swallowing. She released her hand from the bag. The black face mask covered her expression but her eyes were visible. Careful, intense, not to be messed with. 

"Do you want it, human? Is that why you're bothering me?" she asked. Her tone wasn't condescending or rude, mostly impartial. 

"Uh, what? No, no, I was worried that the bag would break and the meat would fall to the ground and then you wouldn't be able to eat it..." Jungkook trailed off in his explanation. His nerves felt like they were on fire when she looked at him, even if they weren’t the same yellow color as that night.

Those eyes sparked with something unknown, squinting in amusement. There was a single bark of laughter, her chin lifting and hood sliding back a little, revealing some of her hair. 

"Silly human, everyone knows dogs can eat off the floor."

She said it lightheartedly, but there was bitterness, piercing like venom.

Jungkook frowned. 

"You're not a dog."

She raised an eyebrow. Reached up with her left hand, lowering the face mask. The wolf hand tattoo gleamed, dark despite probably having it for most of her life. The government probably forced her to touch it up every so often. His eyes widened as her face was revealed, nose, lips, chin. He remembered the intoxicating feeling of her tongue on his face. The way his whole body reacted, falling into it. Her mouth opened, white teeth sharp and pointed, but not as large as they were during the full moon. 

"Are you sure?" she growled.

It was the middle of the day. Lunchtime. Her right hand lifted, reaching into to the bag. Jungkook's eyes grew wider as her fingers closed around a hunk of meat, blood seeping onto the silver rings she wore on this hand, an intricate skull with a snake coming out of its mouth on her index and a silver band with script on it on her ring finger.

It read...

FEED.

She gripped the slippery meat and pulled it out of the bag. Brought it to her lips and sank her teeth in, tearing at it. She even turned her head sharply to the side, ripping the uncooked muscle to shreds.

Chewed. 

FEED.

Chewed slowly, staring. 

"Best stay away from the Dire, human. They are not nice like me."

"Thank you," Jungkook blurted. 

He did not know why he said it now. Now, as she was literally eating a chunk of raw meat in the middle of the fucking street, blood dropping down and seeping into the face mask on her chin. She was eating like an animal, probably on purpose to scare him, but all he could remember was arriving home and looking at himself in the mirror, her saliva stuck to his cheek and temple. 

She blinked, slowly. 

"Thank you for saving me."

She shoved the last bit of meat in between her lips. She looked thoughtful as she swallowed. Something seemed to be different now. 

"You're welcome, human. I'm glad you're safe."

She held her bloody hand out. 

"I need to feed. I would like to do so in peace, if you don't mind."

He jumped, holding out the bag of meat. She gripped it from the top and placed her left hand under it, supporting it as she took it from him. 

"Um."

He lowered his hands. She looked at him with impassioned eyes. 

"My name is Jeon Jungkook."

She tilted her head, a curious puppy gaze. 

"What... what's yours?"

-

You told the human your name.

Not your full name. Just your given name.

Part of you still wanted to refer to him as the dumb human.

But he did say you weren’t a dog.

That was nice of him to say.

-

Maybe he should have been disgusted, watching her eat raw meat like that.

Then again, maybe he was desensitized, because many Dire ate raw meat out in public. At restaurants and such. Usually with some sort of utensil though, and not with their hands.

Jungkook wasn’t sure what came over him to be honest. He just kept thinking about her tongue. The smell. The saliva. The two Dires hunting him had called it a claim. He wondered what that meant. He took to the internet.

The internet scared him.

He put down the internet.

He stared at his phone, reading the words that he had looked up in the web browser. What is a claim? That didn’t work. What is a Dire claim? Jungkook found the answer on a communal website that defined slang words.

A claim is when a Dire wolf claims a piece of property as theirs via marking them with their scent. Usually, that property is a mate or a human used as a sex slave.

The internet was scaring him. That can’t be right. She didn’t have sex with him. She didn’t even attempt to or try when they met again afterward. She had spent the time eating raw meat in front of his face. She didn’t even give him a phone number.  

“I don’t have a phone,” she said. “Such things are of no use to me.”

Who didn’t have a phone these days? He thought that was weird.

“If you want to find me, I can smell it off you. I will come. Or I will not.”

That was also weird.

But she was a wolf. So. Maybe not?

Jungkook did not have many interactions with the Dire. He met a banker once when he was withdrawing some money. Saw them went he bought groceries or went to amusement parks. The Dire didn’t really interact with humans. The Dire even went to different schools than the humans, so he wasn’t exposed to their customs. The education system didn’t focus much on Dre history or culture.

Also.

Sex slave???

Jungkook couldn’t stop thinking about it.

They must have been mistaken.

-

You could smell the human. He was thinking about you.

What was his name again?

Jungkook.

He was horny.

You snorted and went back to your shower.

 -

Jungkook was in the middle of gripping his dick when he realized.

If you want to find me, I can smell it off you.

Was there a radius? A limit?

The words sex slave kept flashing in his head.

Could she smell him now?

He stroked his cock, slowly.

Maybe?

He kept going.

-

You were in the middle of drying off when you smelled it.

You raised your eyebrows.

You went back to drying yourself off.

Your tail was drenched with water. Sigh. Perhaps you would have to blow dry it before sleeping.

 Oh dear.

He made a mess.

Could she... smell it?

No way, right?

-

“I can smell it, you know.”

Jungkook shot up out of his bed. He was shirtless. Fuck that, he was pants less too. He only had his underwear on, and the female Dire was standing in his bedroom, hood down, head cocked. His window was wide open, curtains flapping in the wind. Her fluffy silver ears were ruffling in the breeze.

It was nearly noon.

The next day.

After, well, the night he jacked off to thinking about her tongue.

She was fully clothed, in a giant gray hoodie and loose black pants, far too big for her. They looked clean, compared to last time they met. There was a black face mask under her chin, squishing her cheeks a little. As usual, her voice was a little raspy and husky, if not monotone.

“H-How did you… g-get in?” he sputtered, grabbing his covers and yanking them over him.

She raised an eyebrow. “This window, obviously.”

He stared at the window. How…? He was on the fifth floor.

“O-oh…?”

Her ears twitched, up and down. He watched them with fascination.

“Well. I just came to tell you that. That’s all.”

She turned around and placed her hands on the sides of his window.

“What are you–”

She turned back, lifting the hood up and over her head and ears.

“Good afternoon, by the way.”

And she launched herself out the window.

Jungkook’s eyes widened and he bolted out of the bed, scrambling to the window. He stuck his head out, looking down. Her sneakers deftly tapped windowsill after windowsill and she dropped down, landing on the sidewalk. She seemed to feel his gaze and looked up.

Tilted her head.

Then pulled the face mask up her nose and walked away as if nothing had happened.

I can smell it, you know.

He turned fifty shades of red and yanked his window closed, locking it, and drew the curtains.

-

The human had a clean bedroom. Shades of navy and dark wood. Pretty. A lot of speakers. Records. Did he actually play them or did he only have them for aesthetics? You knew humans these days loved aesthetics.  It was trendy. That’s all they cared about, really.

So, why did the human do that last night?

You wondered.

Maybe he was desperate or something.

No.

He wasn’t that ugly. And, even ugly humans these days could attract mates. With personality. And such.

Maybe he was a freak or something.

Ah.

Yes.

Sexualizing the Dire.

There were people like that.

You nodded, accepting this as your answer and went on your way.

-

Jungkook stood at the counter of the records store.

He worked here most days as the cashier. The manager was rarely here. At this point, it was basically Jungkook’s store without the actual responsibility of paying the rent for it. Jungkook was fine with that. He liked talking about music, not fighting with landlords about the raising rent prices.

There were a few people in the store. A guy with dark hair and cat-like eyes, frowning as he looked even though he probably wasn’t upset by anything. He was probably just frowning because that was his default expression. Another guy with colorful clothes and an equally brilliant smile was browsing through the ’80s section. He looked quite cheerful. There was another tall guy with an inquisitive face that was inspecting the artwork on every single record. He nearly dropped them six times.

Jungkook was a little worried about him.

Also, he couldn’t stop thinking about how the Dire said she could smell his orgasm.

Or rather, his orgasm as he thought about her.

Maybe if he just…

Did it without thinking about her.

But that was impossible.

If he tried not thinking about her, then he would end up thinking about her. That was how ‘The Game’ worked and, fuck, now he just lost that too.

Sigh.

“Could I buy this?”

Oh, thank God, please don’t drop it again, Jungkook thought as he pleasantly rang up Kim Namjoon.

-

Should you eat the cheese?

You ate the cheese.

It was very delicious.

Maybe you should buy more cheese. You father did not like you eating human food. Every meal was only raw meat. It was fine, but boring. You could digest human food, but only in small portions, and still had to eat meat. You didn’t really have much chance to eat human food anyway. But you had bought this cheese out of curiosity. It had smelled interesting.

So, you ate it.

And it was good.

The human was horny again.

The human really needed to stop this.

You rubbed your chin. Perhaps it was the claiming. Still, he shouldn’t have noticed what it was. Humans couldn’t smell it like other wolves could. Maybe he was starved for intimacy. Maybe no other human had licked him like that. You frowned. Why not? He seemed attractive. Long, ashy bleached hair with strong features and pouty lips. He had moles too, one under his lip, one on his nose, and one on his cheek. You only had one on your face, the one under your right eye. He had tattoos, an entire right sleeve, all the way up to his shoulder. You liked the red eyeball one. That was interesting.

You ate another piece of cheese.

You wouldn’t have marked your scent on him, but it was meant to mask his human one. He was going to die if you hadn’t. You didn’t need to do anything other than the simple lick. You had a strong scent, only outdone by the Dire Alpha.

Your father.

You ate another piece of cheese.

The human was really wanting you.

Should you have saved him? You had saved humans before. You did it often, on full moon nights. You never had to mark a claim though. Every other time, all you needed to do was drag them to safety. They sometimes thanked you and sometimes screamed in fear before slamming their doors in your face. Odd. Some thought about you afterwards, but not like this. You father would not like you saving the humans, but you didn’t really care. You father was an ass to the humans.

He was kind of an ass to you too, but he was less of an ass to you than to everyone else, so you accepted it. You were his only daughter, after all.

The human was having a good time.

You raised an eyebrow and ate another piece of cheese.

Let him be.

-

What if he just…

“This is the third time this week.”

Jungkook jumped, throwing himself into the wall. He was standing in his kitchen, and the window was opening, the female Dire sliding in, hands first, then legs, too much fabric. She must have had a smaller body than her clothes showed, because the window was not that big. The hood of her blue hoodie fell back, revealing her silvery pointed ears. She was still wearing her black face mask. Dark brown pants. Dirty white sneakers all over his countertop.

“H-Hey!”

“Stop jacking off thinking about me.”

“What?”

She slumped down on the counter, legs hanging off the edge. Her ears flickered back and forth. It was early evening. He had been trying to decide on whether to make dinner first or, well.

The other thing.

Her tail slid out of the bunched up blue hoodie, slapping against the gray countertop. Silvery fur, tipped black. It looked really soft. He kind of wanted to pet it. No, he very much wanted to pet it.

“Human.”

Jungkook snapped to attention. He did not really know how to feel about her breaking into his apartment like this. He wasn’t mad at it. Just didn’t understand how or why she kept doing it. He could have opened the front door for her. She didn’t lower her face mask.

“You are distracting me with your constant masturbating, so I would appreciate it if you watched some other porn and did it to that.”

“E-eh?” He swallowed. “H-How would you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “Of course, I know. I told you, if you want to find me, I can smell it. What more want is there than sex?”

Jungkook blinked at her.

“Are all Dires like that?”

She tilted her head.

“No.”

Finally, she reached up and lowered the mask. Her voice was now less muffled, still husky though.

“Only strong Dires can discern who desires them. And most can only smell it when it’s sexual desire, driven by the need to mate. My nose is a little more sensitive.” Her fluffy tail thumped. “I can smell you if you are simply wanting my presence.”

She didn’t move from the counter. Just kept talking to him as if this was normal.

“Humans do not usually desire Dires. It is typically the other way around.”

Sex slave???

“And Dires frequently simply use humans for fun.”

Jungkook’s brain was still fixated on that weird definition he had found on the internet.

“But, in any case, pheromones are usually not compatible, so therefore most humans don’t even realize they’re not physically attracted to Dires. Which is probably why the segregation is so strong, even now.”

She was giving him a biology lesson and his dick was wondering is he was going to get any action.

“Anyway,” she finally said, raising one of her sneakers to place it on his counter. Jungkook winced. So dirty. He would have to deep clean that counter the second she left. “Go get laid or something.”

“I tried.”

She looked like she was about to get up and paused. Her head turned; wolf ears perked.

Jungkook’s cheeks burned hot as he shifted his eyes. “I tried earlier this week. I wasn’t… masturbating.”

No expression.

She raised her face mask to cover her nose and stood up.

“Human.”

Jungkook looked up at her.

“That’s weird.”

And she slithered out his kitchen window.

He didn’t even bother to see if she made it safely. He could hear her deft sneakers touching the wall before the heavy sound of her dropping down to the sidewalk.

-

From now on, you ignored it.

Humans were peculiar.

-

Maybe he was just… weird?

Jungkook leaned against the at the counter of the records shop, hand on his chin tapping his cheek. No one was in the store.

He never really thought about his sexuality much. He just did stuff when the opportunity arose, mostly because he was horny and the chance was there. He never noticed that everyone who was interested in him was human or even those he had a minor interest in were human. Why was that? Why didn’t he think about Dires sexually until that female one licked him like that?

And now she was all he could think about, which was weird because he never really thought about them like that at all.

The wolf people weren’t well liked by society and Jungkook, while not going along with it mindlessly, was definitely influenced by popular opinion. He stayed out of their way, took more care when he noticed a group of them congregating at the sidewalk, and did not have idle chat with them like he would with a human.

He bit his lip thinking about it. He did not like that he only noticed this now.

It took lust for him to realize that he had innate prejudice.

That was a little fucked up.

But better than never noticing?

Jungkook slumped onto the counter. Maybe she could tell. Maybe that’s why she acted so aloof and indifferent. Could she discern his emotions when they were close? He didn’t really know what was fact or fiction when it came to the Dire wolf people. He knew the Dire couldn’t turn humans like the stories. That was just a fable. They could eat them though. That wasn’t a fable.

He wondered how genetics worked. Could they have children?

Was he seriously speculating if be could have children with the silvery female Dire right now?

Jungkook blinked slowly.

Oh, fuck, what if he was weird?

-

You slipped your silver rings onto your aching fingers.

The wolf one.

The silver band.

The skull with the snake.

The FEED ring.

And now, a large opalescent gem inlaid with a star design around the stone, onto your right thumb.

Around your neck was a medium-weight silver chain, carrying the symbol of the family of the Alpha. The jagged diamond shaped like the full moon with a platinum plum flower pressed into the center. The pendant was over ten centimeters wide and hung like a weight under your collarbones.

This was a stupid tradition.

Still, you put it all on because your father insisted. You were proud to be his daughter, but this shit was unnecessary in your opinion.

You licked the back of your forearm, sighing. You were cleaning the blood off. The gash was deep, but it would heal. It was clotting quickly.

Unlike the other times you were outside, you had been previously dressed in a tight, short, sleeveless robe. Silver, with a black sash, and black shorts. Your tail out and proud, not hidden. Ears up and well brushed, hair braided back. There wasn’t much other clothing, because it all immediately got ripped off.

That’s what happened when you changed into wolf form.

You always wondered why the wolf form was always such a contrast to your human form. It made life somewhat inconvenient.

This tradition was stupid, but it was what your father wanted, so you did as you were told. And besides, you hadn’t wanted to marry the other Dire anyway.

You looked down at the silver rings.

The symbols of each family that had tried to present their suitors to your father. Five in total you father accepted to the ritualistic arena. And all five you defeated, now adorned on your hands. They were all different, from rich to poor. The simpler ones were from the poorer families. Your father didn’t care about family background, at least. He wasn’t classiest. Was that a good point?

Your father only cared about one thing.

Power.

If you were to be Alpha, then you needed to have a strong husband.

The point of the ritual wasn’t for you to be defeated. It was for you to be matched. If you didn’t want the match, you had to defeat your opponent.

Which usually meant kill, but you infuriated your father by only breaking bones until the other Dire begged for the ritual to end. He really hated that, but you didn’t care. The Alpha tried to kill them himself, but you always pinned him down, stopping him.

Your father never told you he loved you. You only knew he did because he let you pin him down and stop him, even though he could probably fight you tooth and nail and win. But not without killing his own daughter and he would never.

“They are strong, Father. You let them in this arena. The pack needs strength.”

It was fucking stupid to kill the strongest men in your pack on the sole basis that they wanted to marry you. Again, why this ritual was stupid. Your father saw reason, but not without losing his temper first and trying to kill them.

Again, why your father was an ass.

You checked the gashes on your naked body. They were clotting fast, a result of your Dire blood and Alpha family strength. They were nothing more than flesh wounds. The other Dire male was strong, but slow. He hadn’t been able to get a good hit on you and make you submit.

One day, you might have to kill your opponents.

You had killed before, executions for those that transgressed the Dire law. If a Dire broke human law, they were tried by the humans. But if they broke Dire law, they were tried by the Dire. And trial by Dire usually meant death. Your father made your carry out the executions, because you didn’t like killing. You felt a little less bad about it because those Dire were seriously twisted.

But once you were Alpha, you would have to fight those who challenged your rule.

Would you kill them?

Or would you let them live and allow them to keep challenging you?

You sighed. That would be very tiring.

It would be much easier if the Dire could listen to reason, but they mostly only listened to strength.

Why couldn’t you be courted like humans? Clumsily falling in love, doing silly romantic actions, nervously picking out gifts. Actually, most Dires were like that too. You were the exception because you were the Alpha’s child. It wouldn’t have mattered if you were male or female. The difference in strength was negligible when it came to the Dire. Your people were not like the humans.

You sat on your bed. Your room was black, with accents of silver. Black furniture with carved images of wolves everywhere. A high canopy bed, with velvet curtains tied back with silver rope. You had never untied them in your entire life. What was the point of them? Too ornate and too frivolous for your taste, but you didn’t pick out this décor. The Alpha did. You didn’t have much interest in interior design anyway. The velvet duvet underneath you warmed your naked body.

You settled down, resting your chin on your hands, legs curled around you.

You did not hate being your father’s daughter, but sometimes you wished your biggest problem was being horny and constantly annoying a Dire with your insatiable lust.

You breathed out and your head tipped over, slowly falling into sleep.

The human was still going at it.

-

Jungkook was pretty sure he was going to die.

Last time he thought he was going to die, he was saved.

But this time, it was not the night of the full moon and he was already ganged up by five Dire males who decided mugging him and kicking his ass was a great idea on this random Tuesday night.

Should Jungkook have given them the money outright? Yeah, maybe, but he had a bad day, snapped at the first guy and told him to fuck off, only for two guys to grab him by the armpits and drag him into the alley where two more were waiting and they were currently beating the shit out of him. He was fighting back, kicking and twisting, but it was still five guys and he was rapidly losing strength despite the adrenaline. He was a good fighter and he got a couple of good hits, but a couple kicks to the solar plexus and he was seeing stars, gasping, pain all over.

“Stupid human,” one of them cackled. “You should have listened like the weak species you are.”

Fucking shit. Was a rib broken? He didn’t know. His vision was clouding and his lungs were on fire. Why was no one helping him? No one could help him. He was going to die in this dirty back alley.

Don’t let her see me like this.

The roar tore through the night.

Like bowling pins, the Dire males were scattered, flung aside suddenly by a strong force. Jungkook crumpled, unexpectedly let go. A pained shriek left his throat as he hit the floor, his battered body further injured by the concrete. He could barely see, hazed by pain. The only thing he could see was a huge silver blur. He could hear better.

The sounds.

Gashing of teeth, vicious growling, the sound of ripping flesh as claws tore in, violent smacks of bodies being thrown around. Cries of immense pain as the five were thrown around like rag dolls by the massive silver figure. The voice, booming and intense, with the distinctive huskiness.

“Weak, pathetic creatures,” came the snarl, pure authority to the whimpers of the beaten. “Do you think you are strong, ganging up five against one? You insecure imbeciles, I will show you what true strength is.”

“P-please, it’s just a human!”

Another roar and there were the sounds of a slap and a yelp.

“You embarrass the name of the Dire. Get out of my sight or your families will have one less member to feed.”

Teeth snapped savagely and the five males scrambled away, whimpering and sobbing as they rushed out of the alley on all fours. Jungkook could hear the large form letting out huffs of rage and exertion. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. Silver fur tipped with black. Obvious, rippling muscle underneath the layers of fur, down to a bushy tail and canine legs, far too large for a domestic dog. There was a pattern on the wolf’s back. Some of the fur was white, creating the shape of a large crescent moon that went from the shoulder blades to the small of the wolf’s back.

The wolf turned around.

Large silver ears with black tips, elongated snout. A black nose, far too many teeth, and yellow eyes, with a tiny patch of black under the right one, disturbing the otherwise perfectly silver fur. Anthropomorphic, but with long, wicked black claws tipping each finger. Around the neck was a necklace with a circular pendant, jagged diamond with a platinum plum flower pressed in the center, five rings slipped onto the chain. A wolf with opalescent eyes. A silver band. A skull with a snake. A script one that read, FEED. A large opalescent gem with stars. The pendant and rings looked small on the furry chest, but Jungkook suspected it was because the wolf was huge.

He had never seen a fully transformed Dire in real life before.

The wolf bent down, breathing out. Hot, heavy, intense.

“Human,” the wolf said, voice deep but still recognizable.

Jungkook whispered her name, pain overtaking him.

“You should have called for me.”

-

He woke up.

Everything hurt.

He was in the hospital.

He tried to lift his head and look around, but he couldn’t focus on anything. It was like his eyes hadn’t been opened in years and they no longer knew how to process light. All he saw was a black blob at the end of the bed, furry silver splotches twitching at his movement.

Unconsciousness took over once again.

-

“You’re free to go.”

His parents picked him up from the hospital. They asked him so many questions, and Jungkook struggled to answer with his limited memory. He was worried for them too, asking about the medical bill, wishing he hadn’t been so stupid and put such a burden on them, but they blinked at him, confused.

“The nurses said everything was paid for already.”

What?

“They said someone brought you to the hospital and an anonymous donor paid for everything.”

-

You father found out you saved the human.

The five wolves had babbled, the little shits.

He was angry at you, but also proud you smacked around the five Dires like the bitches they were.

Still, you used his money to pay for the medical bills.

So.

He had you kill each one in front of their parents.

It was very unpleasant.

You told him that wouldn’t earn you much favor with the pack if you were killing them over a simple human. Your father told you that was your problem for saving the human. You could have let the five Dires kill the human and let them be persecuted by the humans instead of saving him and letting the Alpha decide the fate of the Dires.

“But then the human would be dead.”

“So?”

Your father was an ass.

-

“How are you, human?”

Jungkook mumbled in his sleep. He squinted and blinked as he heard the raspy voice. It felt a little cold. He could feel a slight breeze. He turned his head and opened his eyes.

The female Dire was looking down at him.

He jumped, but she pressed a hand to his chest, steadying him. Pain shot up his torso from the sudden movement. Her black hood was pushed back, revealing her hair and her large wolf ears. Face mask taken off, hanging by one ear. The hand on his chest was her right. Three rings. Gem on the thumb, skull on the middle, FEED script on the ring finger.

“I wouldn’t do that.”

His window was open. Of course.

She looked solemn. Worried. Tired.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asked.

She removed her hand and brushed his hair away from his face. He hadn’t been able to upkeep the blond well because of his injuries. It was getting a little brassy. His mom came over every week for a few hours to help him out with house chores, but he bathed alone. He could still do it, slowly. His parents lived in a different province, after all.

“I am a bit disappointed you didn’t think of me immediately,” she said quietly with a small smile. “Am I only interesting to you when you’re jacking off?”

His cheeks heated. “U-uh…”

She lowered her hand to the bed. “Then again, you were probably too busy thinking about survival.”

She looked sad for some reason. Jungkook frowned, watching her look around his room.

“Have you been getting by well? Do you need monetary help?”

“Was it you?” he questioned.

She turned back. She seemed to know what he was referring to. “It was me.”

“Are you rich?”

She tilted her head. “Something like that.” Amusement flitted in her eyes. “Is that it, human? You want money?”

Jungkook looked into her eyes.

“Why do you always think you know what I want?”

The female Dire paused. Jungkook had been thinking about this for a while now. She seemed to have a fixed opinion of who he was, not bothering to learn more. She came and went as she pleased, as if she owned the place. She was not without some sense of entitlement. He didn’t know why that was, but he had accepted it because of his initial attraction that was still very much there. But he too, was disappointed. He was disappointed that she didn’t try to get to know him and simply observed him and assumed things.

She smiled a little. “I suppose it is because of the way I grew up.”

“That’s not an excuse.”

She chuckled. “No, human, it is not.”

“I have a name, you know,” he pouted.

Her smile widened. It was pleasant, not teasing or mean.

“Yes, Jungkook, I remember.”

-

“Why do you only come through the window?” Jungkook complained.

She crawled through the opening, hands touching the floor first before swinging her legs in, removing her sneakers and placing them on the towel next to the window.

“Because,” she said, patting down her gray hoodie. “I don’t like the door.”

“Why not?”

“The humans will see me enter.”

Jungkook pursed his lips. “It’s the same.”

“It is not,” she retorted. “If I enter by the door, your neighbors will have reason to question you, judge you, hate you. If I enter by the window, then they will only find out by being nosy and they cannot display this obvious prejudice to your face.”

“Someone will think you’re breaking and entering and call the police.”

“I will handle it then.”

Jungkook frowned. “Who cares if they hate me?”

“I do.”

She pushed her hood back and made eye contact with him.

“I care.”

She looked down at the laundry he was attempting to fold.

“You are terrible at that.”

-

“You have another ring.”

“Yes.”

It was a black stone with a bone pressed into it as the silver band.

“What do they mean?”

You looked down at it. It was on your left index finger. You were wiping the blood of the gash above your left eyebrow in his bathroom. He looked much better now, the human. Fuller, less broken than the last time you saw him. You saw some bruising on his ribcage, but he was mostly healed now. In contrast, you ached all over, wrapped up underneath the large blue hoodie you wore. The gash on your eyebrow had reopened when the girl in his bedroom had thrown one of his Bluetooth speakers at you when you entered from his window.

Well, to be fair, you had thought he was masturbating.

He made this confusing sometimes.

“I think I scared her.”

Jungkook laughed. “You did. She fucking ran.”

“Are you going to explain?”

Jungkook shrugged. “I could, but she was pretty drunk when she got on top of me, so I don’t even know if she will remember.”

He was naked at first, but he yanked on some underwear after you appeared. The first couple times you visited him, he cared more about his appearance, but as time went on, he seemed to care less and less. He was more worried about your cut that was already clotting.

“What do they mean?” Jungkook asked again, pointing to the rings.

“They’re trophies,” you replied, flecking away from dried blood into his sink. “From defeating the suitors trying to woo me.”

“Huh.” Jungkook watched you rinse off your eyebrow. “You can’t just get drunk and fuck?”

“I can. I just have to viciously beat the living shit out of them if they want to marry me.”

“Damn, every Dire has to do that?”

You lifted your head, water dripping down your face.

“No.”

You suddenly felt very heavy.

“Just me.”

Jungkook stared at you through the mirror. His blond hair was more well-kept now, ashy and light.

“Why?”

You wiped the water off, shaking your hand onto the sink bowl.

“Because of tradition.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows. “Sounds like that tradition sucks ass.”

You chuckled. “It does.”

He scratched his nose. “Uh, so… Why did you come?”

You stared at the drain of the sink.

“Because you wanted me.”

You could hear the embarrassment in his voice. “But you, uh… never come during the act.”

You kept staring at the drain.

“You have a nice life, Jungkook.”

“Huh?”

You lifted your head, exhaling tiredly. You were aware he was watching you, but you were looking at yourself, at the cut above your eyebrow, at your own eyes, hours before bloodthirsty and violently gold, at the pointed teeth and the furry ears and the everything, the fucking everything and for some reason you hated it all, you hated it and wanted to be human, just like Jungkook, just be human and do dumb shit like have drunk sex with a stranger, but instead you had just competed in some primitive combat ritual with some male Dire who thought he was hot shit and wanted to be the Alpha’s partner.

You wanted to scream.

“I wish I could just get drunk and fuck.”

Jungkook blinked at you.

“Well, uh… I have some soju… and a dick, so…?”

He was relentless. Why? Was he even aware of it? You suddenly narrowed your eyes.

“Why are you turned on by me?”

Jungkook blinked faster, cheeks flushing pink.

“Uh… I don’t know?”

You frowned. “It shouldn’t be possible.” You turned around and tilted your head at him, inspecting his anxious, self-conscious expression. “All this, since that night. Since the claim.” Jungkook stiffened, but you figured it was because you were verbally analyzing the situation. “But the claim is my scent painted on you. It is a possessive action and should have no effect on the way you feel about me.” You placed a hand on your chin and walked out of his bathroom, still thinking. “Unless for some reason you reacted to my scent. But how could that be? You’re human. Sure, humans sexualize Dires, but it is more of a fetishization in most cases.”

You spun around, standing in his bedroom, where, ten minutes before, he had been in the middle of getting head from a stranger.

“Did you react to my scent?”

Jungkook’s eyes darted from side to side. “Uh.”

You waited.

“I don’t know what that means.”

You waved a hand impatiently. “The scent of the saliva. Is that what you think about when you’re getting off?”

Jungkook shoved his hands in front of his boxer briefs. Your eyes darted down at the action. Then you lifted your gaze.

“You reacted.”

“Uh…”

You moved your tongue in your mouth, producing the saliva enriched your scent. Then you opened your mouth and breathed out, tongue extended and glistening.

Jungkook crossed the room instantly like he was pulled on a string.

You shoved your tongue back in your mouth, startled.

“You do react.”

His body collided into yours and his hands gripped your arms, pushing your body into his. He was breathing hard, right into your face, eyes glazed, lower lip quivering.

“Wha… what happened?” he gasped.

You frowned a little, cocking your head. No one had ever reacted so strongly to your scent before. Sure, all the male Dires were supposedly attracted to you, but that was because you were the Alpha’s daughter and all of them wanted to be the Alpha’s partner. But Jungkook’s reaction was completely pure, because he had no such external desires that drove his attraction.

Just one weird night where you licked him in the face.

-

She was so close.

So fucking close.

And Jungkook could smell it, feel it, needed it.

“Uh… I know you’re trying to break down the science of this, but I’m really fucking horny right now.”

Her silvery ears flicked upwards and she raised her head to make eye contact with him. Was it his imagination or did her irises become flecked with gold?

"Oh, right. I suppose you are."

He frowned at that. She seemed to be contemplating something. Then she removed her arms from his hands. He let go, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach remained. Like he was possessed, like all of his blood was calling him to the Dire. 

"Jungkook," she said slowly in that husky voice of hers. "Today is not a good day to see my body."

I beg to differ, he wanted to say, but she cracked her neck, holding up her left hand, the black stone on the index finger gleaming.

"I had a fight today, so I've got some cuts," she clarified. "Don't want to bleed all over your sheets and stuff."

"Oh." Right. He wondered how bad it was. "Are you in pain?"

She tilted her head, one ear flattening. Fuck. She looked so cute.

"No. Well, I am, but it's familiar so it doesn't seem too bad."

The ear raised again and she breathed in, eyes on him once more. No, he wasn't going crazy. There was definitely gold laced in her iris color. 

"Let me smell you, Jungkook."

"Uh... sure?"

She leaned in, sniffing his neck. Jungkook was suddenly aware that he was mostly naked, but there was no time to think about that as her breath wafted against his collarbone, her silvery wolf ear brushing his jaw. Oh! It was furry. Well, yeah, duh, it was obviously furry, but he hadn't expected the contact. He stiffened as she bent down, sniffing his chest, tilting her head this way and that, not touching him except for the soft huffs of breath on his skin. It was not making him any less horny. In fact, it was making it worse. Hopefully she didn't–

She dropped to her knees and took a huge whiff his crotch. 

Oooooookay, now that wasn't what Jungkook thought was going to happen, but he wasn't exactly complaining, but also it was kind of embarrassing because he was pretty damn hard now–

She shoved her nose into his clothed cock and inhaled. 

He moaned. 

What?

He couldn't help it! He was already horny, was midway in getting a blowjob from some random girl he picked up at a bar but spent the entire said blowjob thinking about her tongue, and then the female DIre interrupted by arriving, and after that she did that weird breathing thing that made his body all hot and bothered, and now her face was all up in his dick! 

She nuzzled around, either ignoring or not caring about how he was grimacing, trying to muffle his lustful groans behind closed lips. Did he maybe have a preference for blowjobs over pussy now because of the whole lick-on-the-face thing? Maybe. Okay, yes, absolutely. Was this probably turning him on too much? 

Yes. Yes, it was. 

Jungkook looked down. Oh, fuck. It made him harder, seeing her face pressed into his crotch, eyes closed, nose buried in the crook of his cock and balls, silvery ears perked with interest. Her bushy tail poked out of her hoodie, swaying from side to side.

Was her tall... wagging?

She inhaled sharply and one of his balls pressed against the fabric, right to her soft lips.

His hips bucked into her face. 

She made a disgruntled noise and pulled back, rubbing her nose. 

"Sorry! S-sorry, it's too... a-are you okay?" Jungkook sputtered, very disappointed in himself.

She made a strange noise, hurrrmph, and sat down on the floor, pushing her sleeves up. He saw the scratches on her arms, cut up and slashed, but all clotted and dark. Did she heal quicker than a human? Her hands glinted with the various silver rings. 

"You smell different than a regular human," she murmured. "Do you have wolf blood in your family?"

"Uh... no? At least, I don't think so?" Jungkook scrunched up his face. He didn’t remember any Dire present at his family reunions.

She pursed her lips. "Maybe it's a genetic mutation."

He wished she would address the fact that she had made a giant tent in his boxer briefs instead of trying to break down the biology of his desire for her. 

"Maybe I'm attracted to you too? Maybe that’s why you smell different," she pondered. "But I can't really tell until I smell your orgasm."

Please, you're driving me crazy. 

"Well, uh, that could be arranged... in probably less than a few minutes..."

She raised her eyebrows and looked up at him. 

"Okay."

She placed her hands on her lap and sat up, opening her mouth. Pink tongue sliding out, white pointed teeth visible. Wicked, sharp, definitely capable of chewing on flesh.

Oh.

No.

This wasn't turning him off. 

"Um... should I just...?"

"Onto my tongue, mhm," she said with her mouth open. 

What?

"Er... this is kinda awkward..." he said, even though his dick was screaming at him to fucking do it. 

She closed her mouth. "Do you need encouragement?"

Jungkook felt his face heat. "Uh..." He watched her tail sway slowly. "Maybe?"

"You seem hard enough."

He swallowed. 

"You also have casual sex with strangers."

Yeah, his face was definitely on fire.

"So, what's the difference?"

I don't know, maybe because... the reason I have casual sex with strangers is because I can't stop thinking about your tongue and saliva???

Then it hit him again. 

The feeling, the need, rising, all encompassing, like a flurry of desire overtaking him. Jungkook snapped his head back to see her tongue trace her teeth, coating them with saliva, the scent, the scent. He could smell it and rousing him instantly, suffocating the embarrassment.

"Y-You're cheating..." he moaned, his fingertips touching the waistband of his underwear, cock throbbing uncomfortably.

A single eyebrow raised. Playful. Ears perked, tall rising, eyes flecked with gold, the mole underneath her right inner corner a little scrunched from her smile. Mouth open, tongue glistening.

She breathed out. 

Jungkook had a split second of – how weird does this make me? – before he realized he didn't give a shit and shoved his underwear down, right hand clasping his stiff length. Oh, fuck, it felt so good, even if he was only touching himself, because he could see her, her face, her tongue, smell the scent that had covered him that night. He stroked himself right in front of her face, grasping his cock firmly and pumping it, wincing at the lack of lubrication. 

"C... closer, please..."

Her eyes traveled down. She slid closer, hot breath on his hand and the swollen head.

"Move your hand," she rasped. 

He whimpered and lowered his hand to the base of his cock, holding it in place.

"A-are you going to...?" 

Her eyes flickered upward. Smirk on her lips. 

"You look like you need some assistance."

Then she collected the saliva on her tongue and let out drip down onto his swollen cock. 

Ho-o-oly shit.

Warm, wet, thick, saturated with her scent, so erotic that his hand slid up to catch it and spread it all over him, his length, his balls, fucking everywhere. His head was clouded, his core was on fire, his cock was slippery, and her eyes were on him, blazing gold.

"Better?"

The scorching rasp faded on his equally hot skin. 

Jungkook was gone. 

His hand was moving automatically, closing around him and pumping fast and hard, breathy gasps leaking from his lungs, instinct taking over and consuming him, completely focused on chasing his release, staring into gold and peeled back lips exposing sharp teeth and strings of saliva clinging to the insides of her dark pink mouth and tongue. He whimpered in desperation, her name drifting out of his lips like smoke. 

Her tongue lowered, dripping spit onto his bedroom floor.

"Jungkook."

Like a rumble, deep in her chest, a command.

The fire inside him exploded and he gasped, grabbing her head and shooting straight into her open mouth, coating her tongue, teeth, and lips. The force was so strong that his entire body shook, fingers grasping one of her silvery ears, pleasure shooting up his spine like lightning, racking his ribs. She growled low, tongue scooping it in, swallowing in large gulps, voracious grunts as she leaned forward, swiping her tongue on the head to collect the last bits dribbling from the tip. 

O-oh, fuck, it was pure elation and ecstasy.

The high was so high that Jungkook momentarily forgot he was standing and fell, tanged from his underwear still around his knees, yelping as strong arms caught him and brought his shaking body to her chest. Almost possessive. Her breathing was coming out in harsh puffs, tongue still licking her lips. 

She reached up and brushed his blond hair out of his eyes. The gold streaks in her irises still seemed so strong. 

"Are you okay?" she chuckled. "People don't usually fall over."

"Uh... yeah..." His face heated at their closeness but, somehow, he didn't want her to let him go. He was much too large to fit in her lap, but she held him easily as if this wasn't awkward for her at all. "I don't usually, uh... fall over."

She hummed. Jungkook started as her fluffy tail brushed against his legs. So soft. 

Silence.

Her breathing calmed, the gold fading. Her left hand on his leg raised and she swept back her hair, rubbing the ear he had yanked at. 

"Oh, sorry... sorry about that..." 

Her right hand was around his back and upper arm. She turned her head, face right next to his. He gulped. She lowered her left hand, placing it on his chest. 

"Don't worry. I doubt you could do any real physical damage to me," she chuckled, caressing his skin. 

Their faces were so close. If he just...

"So, uh... what are the results?" Jungkook whispered.

Her eyes weren't giving him any hints. He kept staring at the mole underneath the inner corner of her right eye.

"Hm?"

"Uh." Mole. Eyes. Mole. Eyes. An amused spark as she noticed. His eyes dropped down to her lips. "Are you... attracted to me?"

Wait. 

She tilted her head. 

The lips were getting closer. 

"Unfortunately for you," she whispered. "I am."

And then she kissed him, soft and warm, a resigned sigh in her chest, her hand holding him close. She still tasted a little bit like his cum, but he could also taste the unique flavor of her, sensual and addictive. His hands found her hoodie and he righted himself, pressing back into her lips. She smiled, backing up a little. He whined, tugging her back, but she was stronger, unmoving. 

"Jungkook," she said gently. "Maybe calm your insatiable hormones for a second and think about what I am."

He opened his eyes, gazing at her through his lashes. 

"You're a fucking tease, that's what you are," he hissed, grip on her hoodie tightening. "You can't just give me a taste and not expect me to want more."

Her smile was frisky, but also rueful. 

"Ah, I admit I probably shouldn't have done that." She placed her hands on his, silver rings cool in his hot skin. Prying his fingers open one by one, releasing his grip on her. "Perhaps my curiosity got the best of me."

Jungkook frowned. "You're not a cat."

She laughed. It was like a bark, a little husky, but lovely, full of life. It sounded genuinely happy, fading into light chuckles.

"Not tonight, alright? I'm all beaten up." She pointed to the cut above her brow. "It's worse under these clothes, believe me."

"I can be the judge of that."

She flicked his chest. He winced, rubbing the sore spot. Damn. She had a mean flick. 

"Give me some time." She stood up, looking troubled.

"Okay."

He yanked his underwear back up as she went over to her sneakers, slipping into them. 

"But don't take too long or I'm going to relentlessly jack off thinking about you now that I have more material."

She was halfway out the window but stopped, looking back at him with a raised brow. 

"Jungkook."

She pulled up her hood.

"You're weird."

And then she jumped down. 

"Yeah, yeah, don't keep reminding me," he mumbled, shoving the window closed and drawing the curtains. 

-

part ii

--

masterpost

[idreamtofmanderleyagain]

Hot takes about Severus Snape are a wierdly decent glimpse into how a person with progressive values analyses things. Literally every time someone talks about Snape, it’s like this tiny window into how one-dimentionally people actually think.

Recently saw a twitter post that was a fantastic example. Here’s how it goes (paraphrasing):

Person A:“Snape is POC and Queer coded, that’s why you guy’s hate him uwu lol.”

Person B: “Actually I hate him because he was mean and abusive to children under his care uwu but go off I guess lol”

Both of these takes are designed to be dramatic and/or reactionary. They each use partial truths to paint very broad strokes. These are get-em-in-one-hit quips. This is virtue signalling, if you’ll excuse that loaded phrase. Nobody had a substantial conversation, but now everyone who sees their statement knows the high ground they took.

At least a hundred other people chimed in to add their own little quippy hot takes into play, none of which add anything significant, but clearly made everyone feel very highly of themselves.

So many layers of nuance and complex analysis is completely lost in this kind of discussion. On tumblr, you get more of this kind of bullshit, but you don’t have a word count limit, so you guys just spew endless mountains of weak overblown evidence backing up your bullshit arguments, none of which was really about engaging in a real conversation anyway.

Here’s the thing about Snape.

He is a childhood domestic abuse victim. His abuser is a muggle.

He becomes a student at a magical school that takes him away from his abuser and immediately instills in him the idea that being a part of this magical world is a badge of self-worth, empowerment, and provides safety and security - provided that he keeps in line.

There is a war is being waged in that world over his right to exist (he is a half blood).

He is a marginalized person within the context of the narrative, forced to constantly be in the same living space as the children of his own oppressors who are being groomed and recruited into a hate group militia (the pureblood slytherins). They are in turn trying to do the same to him.

He is marginalized person bullied by children who are also part of his oppressor group, but who have “more liberal” leanings and aren’t direct about why he’s being targeted (the mauraders are all purebloods, Sirius, who was the worst offender, was raised in a bigoted household, the same one that produced Bellatrix.).

He had a crush on a girl who is a muggleborn, and therefore she is considered even lesser than him and carries a stigma to those who associate with her. That girl was his only real friend. In his entire life.

For both Snape and Lily, allying themselves to a pureblood clique within their own houses would be a great way of shielding themselves from a measure of the bigotry they were probably facing. There would have been obvious pressure from those cliques to disconnect with one and other.

Every other person who associates with Snape in his adulthood carries some sort of sociopolitical or workplace (or hate cult) baggage with their association. Some of them will physically harm and/or kill him if he steps out of line. He hasn’t at any point had the right environment to heal and adjust from these childhood experiences. Even his relationship with Dumbledore is charged with constant baggage, including the purebloods who almost killed him during their bullying getting a slap on the wrist, the werewolf that almost killed him as a child being placed in an authority position over new children, etc. Dumbledore is canonically manipulative no matter his good qualities, and he has literally been manipulating Snape for years in order to cultivate a necessary asset in the war.

He is a person who is not in the stable mental state necessary to be teaching children, whom has been forced to teach children. While also playing the role of double agent against the hate group militia, the one that will literally torture you for mistakes or backtalk or just for fun. The one that will torture and kill him if he makes one wrong move.

Is the math clicking yet? From all of this, it’s not difficult to see how everything shitty about Snape was cultivated for him by his environment. Snape was not given great options. Snape made amazingly awful choices, and also some amazingly difficult, courageous ones. Snape was ultimately a human who had an extremely bad life, in which his options were incredibly grim and limited.

In fact, pretty much every point people make about how shitty Snape is as a person makes 100% logical sense as something that would emerge from how he was treated. Some if it he’s kind of right about, some of it is the inevitable reality of suffering, and some of it is part of the cycle of abuse and harm.

Even Snape’s emotional obsession with Lily makes logical sense when you have the perspective that he literally has no substantial positive experiences with other human beings that we know of, and he has an extreme, soul destroying guilt complex over her death. Calling him an Incel mysoginist nice guy projects a real-world political ideology and behavior that does not really apply to the context of what happened to him and her.

Even Snape’s specific little acts of cruelty to certain students is a reflection of his own life experiences. He identifies with Neville; more specifically, he identifies his own percieved emotional weaknesses in his childhood in Neville. There’s a very sad reason there why he feels the urge to be so harsh.

Snape very clearly hates himself, in a world where everyone else hates him, too. Imagine that, for a second. Imagine total internal and external hatred, an yearning for just a little bit of true connection. For years. Imagine then also trying to save that world, even if it’s motivated by guilt. Even if nobody ever knows you did it and you expect to die a miserable death alone.

There are more elements here to consider, including the way Rowling described his looks (there may be something in there re: ugliness and swarthy stereotyping). These are just the things that stand out the most prominently to me.

J.K. Rowling is clearly also not reliable as an imparter of moral or sociopolitical philosophies. I don’t feel that her grasp of minority experiences is a solid one, considering how she picks and chooses who is acceptable and who is a threat.

All of that said, this is a logically consistent character arc. Within the context of his narrative, Snape is a marginalized person with severe PTSD and emotional instability issues who has absolutely no room available to him for self-improvement or healing, and never really has. And yes, he’s also mean, and caustic, and verbally abusive to the students. He’s also a completey miserable, lonely person.

There are elements in his character arc that mirror real world experiences quite well. If nothing else, Rowling is enough of an emotional adult to recognise these kinds of things and portray something that feels authentic.

In my opinion, it’s not appropriate to whittle all this down by comparing him directly to the real world experiences of marginalized groups - at least if you are not a part of the group you are comparing him to. There have been many individuals who have compared his arc to their own personal experiences of marginalization, and that is valid. But generally speaking, comparing a white straight dude to people who are not that can often be pretty offensive. This is not a valuable way to discuss either subject.

Also, I believe that while it’s perfectly okay to not like Snape as a character, many of the people who act like Person B are carrying Harry’s childhood POV about Snape in their hearts well into their own adulthood. And if nothing else, Rowling was attempting to say something here about how our perspectives (should) grow and change as we emotionally mature.  She doesn’t have to be a good person herself to have expressed something true about the world in this instance, and since this story is a part of our popular culture, people have a right to feel whatever way they do about this story and it’s characters.

The complexity of this particular snapshot of fictionalized marginalization, and what it reveals about the human experience, cannot be reduced down to “he’s an abuser so he’s not worth anyone’s time/you are bad for liking him.”

And to be honest, I think that it reveals a lot about many of us in progressive spaces, particularly those of us who less marginalized but very loud about our values, that we refuse to engage with these complexities in leu of totally condemning him. Particularly because a lot of the elements I listed above are indeed reflected in real world examples of people who have experienced marginalization and thus had to deal with the resulting emotional damage, an mental illness, and behavior troubles, and bad decisions. Our inability to address the full scope of this may be a good reflection of how we are handling the complexity of real world examples.

Real people are not perfect angels in their victimhood. They are just humans who are victims, and we all have the capacity to be cruel and abusive in a world where we have been given cruelty and abuse. This is just a part of existing. If you cannot sympathise with that, or at least grasp it and aknowledge it and respect the people who are emotionally drawn to a character who refects that, then you may be telling on yourself to be honest.

To be honest, this is especially true if you hate Snape but just really, really love the Mauraduers. You have a right to those feelings, but if you are moralizing this and judging others for liking Snape, you’ve confessed to something about how you’ve mentally constructed your personal values in a way I don’t think you’ve fully grasped yet.

I have a hard time imagining a mindset where a story like Snape’s does not move one to empathy and vicarious grief, if I’m honest. I feel like some people really just cannot be bothered to imagine themselves in other people’s shoes, feeling what they feel and living like they live. I struggle to trust the social politics of people who show these kinds of colors, tbh.

But maybe that’s just me.

[mxbeezkneez]

Graveyard Companions

Chapter 2: i'm coming back from the dead, and i'll take you home with me

Link to ao3: x

Warnings: Blood, Minor Injury, Cursing

Fandoms: The Addams Family

Relationships: Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams, Gomez Addams/Morticia Addams/Reader, Gomez Addams/Reader, Morticia Addams/Reader

Tags: Vampire, Vampire Turning, Human/Vampire Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Married Couple, Blood, Polyamory, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationship, Pre Relationship, Cursing

Summery: “I’m a vampire… a goddamn vampire,” you whisper.You wake up in the living room of a gothic house, and are told you were found unconscious in a graveyard. They claim you are a vampire. As crazy as it is, you can't help but start to trust the couple who found you.

Chapter notes: hi i'm back! i started thinking about the addams family, and well my interest in vampires didn't rlly diminish much... this chapter's pretty long, so i hope you enjoy! i apologize if my french or spanish is bad, i don't speak french, and i only speak a bit of spanish! i actually have like a whole plot n stuff planned, so i'm pretty hyped for this fic! hope u like it! :) (the title is from it's not a fashion statement, it's a fucking death wish by my chemical romance)

You wake up to a loud bang, bolting straight up out of bed. “What the hell?”

You rub your eyes before slipping out of bed. The night before feels very far away, almost unreal, but being in this room confirms your memories. You’re staying in the Addams’ house and are… a vampire. You take a slow breath before grabbing new clothing. You find a pair of black pants to match a dark sweater. While near the dresser, you look out of the room’s window. It’s dark outside, the sky a navy blue sprinkled with stars. The graveyard behind the house is illuminated by the moon shining over it.

You leave your room, deciding to try and find the living room once again. You wander through the halls before finding it. Inside you find Wednesday, the small girl, playing with a younger blond boy. She’s talking to him while holding a headless doll in her arms. You walk farther into the room, stepping on a squeaky board, alerting the children of your presence.

They both turn their heads to stare at you. You nervously chuckle.

Wednesday points at you, “That’s (y/n),” she tells the boy, “I heard father say they’re a vampire.”

“Wow really?” the boy exclaims, “Is it true? Do you drink blood?”

“Um,” you stammer, “Well, I am a vampire, but I haven’t been one very long so- no I haven’t drank any blood. Uh… what’s your name again?”

“I’m Pugsley,” he reaches over and offers his hand.

You shake it, “Well, nice to meet you Pugsley. What are you guys up to?”

“We’re playing the French Revolution,” Wednesday answers flatly.

You chuckle, “Huh. I mean I guess it was an exciting time. Who’s your doll there?” you point to the headless doll in her hands. To be honest, the beheaded doll was very unnerving, but the children themselves seemed nice enough, so you push your nerves to the side.

“Marie Antoinette” she says matter of factly.

“Oh,” you pause, “Explains the lack of head I guess.”

You stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure of how to exit the conversation. “Do either of you know where your parents are?” you ask.

“I saw them in the dining room earlier. Uncle Fester was there, but I think he went upstairs to play with his dynomite caps,” Pugsley replies. Uncle Fester? Dynomite caps? There’s too much to unpack there, so instead you decide to find Gomez and Morticia.

“Okay, thanks.”

You head out the door, realizing you have no idea where the dining room is. You go to turn back, but the children are playing animatedly and you don’t want to interrupt, so instead you look for it yourself.

You find the dining room, and sure enough, Gomez and Mortica are seated next to each other at a long table. You walk over and take a seat near them.

“(Y/n)! How’d you sleep?” Gomez greets you.

“Like the dead,” you say flatly. A second later what you’ve said hits you and you blink slowly, “I mean, I slept well, thanks.”

“You did seem rather tired last night,” Morticia remarks, “I’m glad you got some rest.”

“Wait, did I sleep through an entire day?” you ask.

“Yes, though we did tell Lurch not to disturb you,” she answers, “We thought you needed the sleep. How are you feeling?”

“I feel…” you take a moment to survey yourself, “I feel okay. I think if anything I feel a little hungry.”

“We can get that squared away! Mama makes the best yak stew.” Gomez springs from his chair and over to a rope hanging from the ceiling. Remembering last night, you brace for a loud noise. Sure enough, once he pulls it, the house shakes as the ringing travels through the house.

“You rang,” Lurch grumbles.

“Yes Lurch, a bowl of yak stew for our guest!” Lurch groans and exits.

“Thank you,” you tell them, “You’ve both been very hospitable, I’m thankful you were the ones that found me.” You feel sincerity in that statement, you were not only grateful for their help, but another part of you has some feeling when you’re near them. You’re not sure what the feeling is, though you can confidently say you didn’t mind the couple, or hell, the weird household in general. Even if it is kooky, you can’t say you’re not charmed by their life.

Lurch comes back with a silver platter that he sets on the table. On it is a bowl of stew that he places in front of you.

“Thanks,” you say, before grabbing the spoon and looking back at the meal. Lurch takes his leave. You’re unsure about eating yak, but you are also hungry and the stew looks fairly appetizing. You take a scoop and put it in your mouth, surprised not only by the flavor of the soup, but also the feeling of chewing. It’s like you can feel your canines rip through the meat faster than before. In the time where you’ve been thinking, it’s completely slipped your mind that you probably have fangs now. That you’ve changed.

“This is- this is actually really good,” you remark.

“I told you, Mama is a culinary genius! Nothing beats her yak stew!” Gomez gleams.

You smile at Gomez. Something about him just makes you want to smile in a soft admission of admiration.

You turn your attention back to the stew, eating it quickly until there is nothing left.

“I’m glad you enjoyed Mama’s cooking,” Morticia smiles, “I’ll have to tell her you enjoyed it. It’s not very often she gets to feed guests.”

“It is very odd, usually most people never come back after eating her food… I can’t imagine why…” Gomez says with a puzzled expression on his face. You chuckle. You notice that you find yourself enjoying the Addams’ company immensely. A part of you feels sad that you will eventually have to leave.

“Ah, c'est la vie (that’s life) ,” Morticia remarks.

“Tish!” Gomez’s head swivels quickly to face her, “That’s French!” he exclaims, grabbing her arm. He begins to kiss it, from her hand to her shoulder, though is interrupted by Morticia, “Darling. We have company. Later,” she says with a sly grin. Gomez raises his head to meet her eyes, a dazed look on his face. “Later.” he remarks, before finding himself back in his seat, “So, Hester, any plans for the night?” he asks casually.

“Um…” you stutter, flustered by the show of passion from the man sitting across from you, “I- I don’t really know… I mean, I’m a vampire now so- does that mean I have to act like one too? I’ve never been in a situation like this, I don’t really know what to do,” you admit, staring at your hands. You look up towards Morticia, “Didn’t you mention you’ve known vampires before? Could you maybe help me?”

“Of course, darling.” Morticia says, “Why don’t we talk in the living room? If you’re alright with it, the children would enjoy listening, they are curious creatures.”

“Yeah, that’s alright. They asked me a question or two when I ran into them earlier. I don’t blame them for being curious,”

“Pugsley’s been very interested in nonhuman creatures lately, ever since that run in with that werewolf he’s been wanting to know more. Wednesday’s been teaching him some things, she’s always had a firm grasp on certain folklore!” Gomez said proudly.

The three of you walked to the living room and sat down, them on the couch, and you in a chair facing them. The children were still in the room, sitting on the floor. You fidget with your hands nervously. “So, do I have superpowers or anything now?” you half-heartedly joke.

“Vampires have very fast healing capabilities,” Wednesday states, “They are very difficult to kill, they must be stabbed with a stake to the heart or decapitated.”

“Very good Wednesday,” Morticia smiles.

“Huh,” you respond, “Alright, that’s not too bad.”

“There are certain weaknesses that should be mentioned, such as sunlight, garlic, crucifixes and running water.” Morticia adds.

“Wait I can’t eat garlic anymore?” you ask, “That kinda sucks, huh.”

“Well technically you can eat anything if you try hard enough,” Gomez says offhandedly.

Morticia cocks an eyebrow at him and sighs, “It’s not so much deadly, it’s more like a food allergy.”

“So I can still eat things with garlic in it?” you double check.

“As long as you aren’t a coward!” Gomez says enthusiastically.

You let out a laugh at Gomez. Wednesday is rolling her eyes, though Morticia just keeps looking at him lovingly. For a moment you forget about the obvious question hanging in the air.

“So…” you start, “I have to drink blood now?” you ask nervously.

“Yes, all vampires must ingest blood to keep themselves alive,” Morticia says, “You’ve got to be hungry by now I imagine,”

“Yeah… but I just ate.” you reply.

“You can still eat food, it just will never fill you. In order not to starve you have to drink blood.” she explains.

You look down at your shaking hands. Everything before now had felt unreal, but this? The seriousness in her voice is making everything too real for you. How could you possibly do that to someone?

“I- I don’t know if I can do that…” you voice shakes, “I mean- how… how could I?”

“Children,” Morticia addresses them, “Why don’t you go play with Uncle Fester while we talk with Hester.”

“Awwww, do we have to?” Pugsley complains.

“A vampire’s eating habits are quite personal Pugsley. I’m afraid so.”

“Alright,” he sighs and follows Wednesday out of the room.

“If you need help procuring someone, you just have to ask. Gomez and I would of course be willing to provide.”

“Provide…?”

“Bodies of course.” Gomez affirms.

“Human bodies,” you repeat, your mind reeling. You had noticed the family was quite odd, even creepy at times, but what they were offering? It sounded too close to murder. You suddenly become very aware of where you are: in a strange house with strangers. Your hands become clammy.

“Is everything alright darling?” you hear Morticia ask. Your throat swells up. You try to force words out, but nothing will leave you lips, leaving you in what is now panic. Finally something spills out, “You can’t kill people for me! You- you can’t!” you sputter out.

“Kill people?” Gomez repeats, “Why we’d bring them alive of course.”

You let out a breath, “Okay, alive. I mean- I just still don’t think I can…”

“Well I suppose there is another option,” Gomez adds.

“What? What is it?” you ask, hopeful.

“Animal blood! It doesn’t work as well, but it’ll do in a pinch.” he explains.

You perk up, “I can do that. That works.” you feel relief.

“Should we make some arrangements? The children could fetch some for tonight.” Morticia asks.

“You have been so kind, really. I would appreciate it, at least for tonight. Tomorrow I’ll work on leaving, I’ve been here long enough.”

“It’s been our pleasure,” Gomez responds, lighting a cigar, “It’s been so long since we’ve had guests.

“Well you certainly are great hosts,” you smile. Despite your situation, you’ve found yourself fairly comfortable here.

“Thank you,” Morticia says, “Now, we ought to ring for Lurch to get some blood. I’m sure the children would love to accompany him.” As she reaches for the bell, you ready yourself for the loud ring. Lurch walks in, “You rang?”

“Yes Lurch, could you gather the children and find some animal blood for our guest here?”

“Yes, Mrs. Addams,” he drawls. He leaves the room in search of the children. A quiet silence falls over the room. Deciding to strike up conversation, you pipe up a question, “So, when did you two meet?”

“Oh, on the best day of my life,” Gomez grins proudly,

“We met at a funeral,” Mortica explains, “It was a lovely day. Grey clouds filled the sky, thunder rolling in the distance.”

“Oh cara mia, I remember it like it was yesterday, our eyes meeting over the coffin,” Gomez starts, “I swear the whole funeral party had to be half as enchanted with you as I had been.” You notice the two of them becoming more enveloped in their memories of each other. You can’t help but smile at how truly in love they are, even if that love meant that you would sit there awkwardly wondering if they were going to just make out in front of you.

“Oh mon cher, you are as charming as you were back then.”

Gomez’s eyes dart up, “Tish! That’s French!” He grabs her arm and starts kissing it.

“Gomez darling,” she warns, “Later.”

He looks up dazed, “Oh yes, our guest. Where were we?” he asks.

“I think you’ve answered my question,” you smile awkwardly.

“Do you have anyone special back home?” Morticia asks politely.

“Well…” you begin to explain“There is this one guy, my roomate, I guess… but I don’t think he likes me like that.” you explain.

“Tiene que estar loco si no le gusta, eres muy guapo. (He must be crazy if he doesn’t like you, you are very handsome.) ” Gomez comments under his breath. You feel your face heat up. He must not know you speak Spanish, judging by how offhandedly he said it. You look over to Morticia who nods ever so slightly, making you even more flustered.

“Uh… gracias, pero… sabes que hablo Español, sí? (Uh… thank you, but… you know I can speak Spanish, yes?) ” you ask. Gomez’s hand, which was placed on Morticia’s knee, now grips it somewhat tightly. Morticia looks over to him in curiosity. His face seems flushed.

“¿Comprendes lo que yo digo? (You understand what I’m saying?) ” he asks tentatively.

“Sí, aprendí a hablar en Español en la escuela. (Yes, I learned to speak in Spanish in school.) ”

“Oh,” a breath leaves his mouth. His eyes keep darting back and forth like he doesn’t know what to do. You can tell his weight has registered onto the balls of his chair like he is about to leap off his seat, but something is keeping him grounded. You look back at Morticia, who seems about as intrigued as you. A heavy silence fell over the room as everyone sat on edge.

Breaking the awkward scene, Lurch walks in with heavy footsteps holding a platter, “Your blood.”

He sets the platter down on the table, removing the lid. On the platter is a wine glass with a dark red liquid in it. As soon as you see the glass you can smell it, the blood. Rather than smelling rancid, the metallic scent smelled like everything you could ever want. You quickly grab the glass with both hands and hold it up to your lips, gulping down the liquid. The taste of it floods your mouth, though some of it dribbles down to your chin as you frantically consume it. You drink the last drop and set down the glass, looking up.

“Shit,” you curse under your breath. You wipe off your chin with the back of your sleeve. “Sorry, I- I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s quite alright,” Morticia affirms, “You’ve just been turned, I’m surprised you’ve gone this long without blood… well I guess there was last night.” You wince at the mention of that encounter. Trying to change the subject, you ask, “What happens if I can’t get blood?”

“Well, either you go to any length to get it out of pure hunger, or if you don’t, you die,” Morticia explains, “So it’s best you feed regularly.”

“So is that why I…” you try to think of a way to phrase it, “Why I don’t feel much restraint when I see blood?”

“Yes, though you’ll get more constraint as it goes on.”

“Oh, okay. By the way, I’m not keeping you up, am I? It has to be pretty late. I mean, I guess I’m already a night owl, so this isn’t too unusual for me, but you two probably should sleep, right?” you ask.

“If you don’t mind, I would like to get some sleep. Perhaps tomorrow if you plan on leaving, we can help you get back?” she asks.

“Yeah, that’d be great. And of course, go get some sleep. I’ll just hang out for a bit.” you say, putting on a small smile.

“Alright, good night then,” Mortica says.

“Goodnight Hester.” Gomez says.

“Goodnight.”

You stay in the living room much longer after they leave, lost in your thoughts. The weight of your new life- or death has started to sink in. Your mind drifts to drinking the blood earlier. The feeling of it had been great, though immediately after your chest felt heavy. You don’t suppose it has anything to do with your newfound changes. No, instead you recognize the feeling as the weight of your guilt.

You can’t help but wonder what kind of creature feeds off the life force of others. You try to reason with yourself by saying it’s like eating animals, yet you can’t accept the notion. This had felt different. Looking back to having Morticia’s blood makes your face flush, but you can’t also help but notice the difference from tonight. While the animal blood was good, and mostly filling, Morticia’s blood, human blood, brought a type of euphoria.

You didn’t need Morticia to spell it out for you. Using animal blood works as a substitute, but you know deep down you are now meant to feed on humans. The realization hits you as you think that. You are no longer human. On this thought your heart aches. What does this make you. Confused? Scared? Yes, those both applied. You feel lost.

You feel anxious thinking about going home tomorrow. Going home means it’s real. It means you have to face your roommate who you’re in love with and somehow not let him know you’re a vampire. You let out a huff. God, how are you supposed to do this? You take a small amount of solace knowing you have the Addam’s help. You’re glad they’ll help you get back home, you don’t think you could do it alone. You know even if you never speak to them again, their impact will be left on you forever.

You get up off the couch, deciding to go to sleep. You trudge to your room and plop onto the bed with a sigh. Eventually you drift off to sleep.

[kindaeccentric]

When I was writing my university bachelor's degree thesis (that I'm still to defend) about Penny Dreadful as a modern adaptation of Frankenstein I noticed how the original novel's homoeroticism is realized by the series in an interesting way.

In the way he is presented, it seems to me that Victor secretly desires men, but thinks that only through creating a perfect one by himself he's allowed to touch other man's skin. His endeavour to pierce the veil between life and death is an excuse, since Victor from the series grew up lonely after the death of his mother and he searches for companionship, for someone who would love him unconditionally, like his mother used to. He believes he can find such love only in a person he creates himself, brings from the dead, and who would see him as his only friend, calm and obedient. Yet his first instinct is to make a man, not a woman, and a handsome man at that.

I can imagine both Rory Kinnear and Alex Price are not everybody's cup of tea (I do find them attractive, they are quite charismatic), but the way the original Creature and Proteus are shown makes them attractive. Proteus we see through Victor's eyes, when he is tending to his body before its even reanimated, when he sketches him (a sure sign of affection) and when he teaches him how to eat in a way that becomes seductive, because of how the camera lingers on his lips and then, in a closeup, on his fingers running down his long throat, immediately bringing to mind erotic imagery. Some may argue that Victor tries to emulate the relationship between his mother and himself taking the parental role and projecting onto Proteus the role of his childhood self, and as much as it is partially true, their relationship bears these marks of hidden desire on Victor's part from the start. The image at the end of the first episode when Proteus is born shows Victor trembling, teary-eyed, looking at the body, a torn and stitched back together, but human body, of a naked man. He's afraid, but not necessarily of the man, but of finally getting what he wanted, it's a fear resulting from excitement. Then the man is touching his face tenderly and Victor, still trembling, cannot stop himself from a little smile. Their faces are softly illuminated by the orange light of the gas lamp, creating an intimate atmosphere of a warm bedroom. Victor practically gasps hearing his own name smoken by Proteus. I doubt all of it was intentional in the way I read it, but it doesn't change the fact that the final scene can be easily interpreted this way.

Then the original Creature, with the violence surrounding his return, presents him as highly masculine, smart, powerful, a direct opposite to the delicate, clueless Proteus Victor could easily form into whatever he wanted. The Creature throughout the entire series is perceived as ugly by some and easily tolerated by others, making his ugliness purely subjective, since, despite his small deformities he remains strangely alluring with his gothic qualities (black long hair, black lips, white skin, yellow eyes, proportional features) of a dark brooding gentleman. With blood on his face he becomes vampire-like (vampires always a symbol of hidden desires and 'depraved' sexuality, the Creature and Victor becoming a mirror image of Vanessa and vampire Mina, both Creature's and Mina's monstrosity an indirect result of Victor's and Vanessa's desire towards having a same-sex companion). The Creature touches Victor's face, a callback to Proteus doing it, but the Creature is not gentle, he smears blood all over Victor's face (blood in vampire narratives was always a symbol for other bodily fluids, that's why it seems so sexy, it also gained another meaning in the 80s, due to the HIV epidemic, which no filmmaker can shake off if they tried, I could discuss it more with The Lost Boys, but no time for that right now).

The dynamic between Victor and the Creature is a reversal of Victor's budding relationship with Proteus, experience winning over innocence. Victor is under another man's rule, and it terrifies him, because it would force him into a position of having to admit his attraction, whereas as the one in control he could have still easily deny it. The Creature, with all his attributes, symbolizes carnal love, he's all 'body', where Proteus was virginal, pious love (to an extent). In one of the scenes where we see Proteus he looks up into the skylight at Victor's apartment and appears angelic, as if in a halo of white light.

It's revealed Victor never had a woman, and the series wants the viewer to believe it's because of his awkwardness and passion for science that consumed him, but his dedication to creating himself male companions instead of searching for a living female one is exactly what makes him seem more queer coded.

It's clear that the lack of paternal figure results in Victor quickly becoming close with older men he encounters (Sir Malcolm, Van Helsing), but it also puts him into a position where he's constantly surrounded by men, with whom he feels more at ease, and is intimidated by women. The rivalry between him and Ethan is that of siblings, until the moment when Ethan teaches him how to shoot a gun. It might be a stretch (it is a bit of a stretch, I admit), but a gun often, especially in horror, alongside a knife, represents manhood and masculine power. Victor allows Ethan to touch him and encourages him to show off with the gun, which is a scene all too familiar from many other movies where the role of Victor is reserved for a woman and the interaction is flirtatious (can't pull examples out of thin air, but if you saw over 1400 movies like me you know I'm not lying). All this adds to the general image of Victor.

The Creature and Victor, when they are on a walk, have a very revealing conversation in which the Creature points out how quick Victor was to grow attached to his more perfect man, and Victor doesn't deny it, he admits that he did in fact feel affection towards Proteus, although the meaning of it as the scorned past partner expressing jealousy over the love he didn't get while someone else did is largely subtext. When the Creature says that he's lonely, Victor answers 'I cannot love you' (paraphrase, because I can't find the exact quote right now) and the Creature, disillusioned, mocks him, 'I do not want what you cannot give' suggesting that Victor, by making himself a meek obedient man, is selfish, cruel, manipulating, and a coward, therefore could not have loved Proteus truly. Then again, Victor cannot bring himself to love his original Creature, because he's not the ideal man he envisioned and by then the Creature being too aware of his flaws of character. The Creature/Caliban/John Clare knows that Victor is 'monstrous', not just because he's someone who desecrates dead bodies, plays God and abandons his creation, but because of his queer desire. It's important that in the case of Penny Dreadful 'monstrosity' signifies many different things, literal (being a vampire werewolf, witch, and so on), metaphorical (bad deeds, like letting your son die a horrible death, cheating, killing etc.) and wholy subjective, merely condemned by ignorant society (Sembene's blackness, Brona's sex work, Lily's want to be equal or greater than men, Vanessa's want for sexual freedom, the Creature's ugliness, Angelique being transgender and other cases), so it's NOT that much of a stretch this time.

We also have the whole problem with Lily. Victor is so attached to Lily (who takes up both Elizabeth's and creature's bride parts in the novel) because he believes that only by possessing a good woman he'll be redeemed for his 'sinful' desires, but he's foolish to think that. This belief reduces a woman to a semi-maternal, semi-virginal angelic ideal with no sexual urges or agency, like virgin Mary. Lily is a true replacement for Victor's mother, and his imagined redemption. As long as she's similar to Proteus, in that she's not sexual, and pure like an angel. Yet Lily is not a woman in that sense. She is another of Victor's creatures, so she partially also takes over the role of the original Creature from the novel, a male. She's not an ideal of a Victorian obedient wife, she has power, or tries to have it, but power in the context of patriarchal society is masculine by nature. The moment she drops her pretenses of a weak delicate wife-like girl Victor does not want her like this. He doesn't want a woman that is sexually liberated, because he doesn't like women in this way, and yet, by being similar to the first Creature (from Victor's perspective, from hers John Clare is similar to Victor-a man, I could delve into Brona's sexuality, but later, this thing is already way longer than I intended) she's 'the man' he wanted.

There is also Henry. Henry Jekyll takes the role of his namesake in the novel, Henry Clerval, Victor's closest friend, and a character most often cited to have homoerotic tension with Victor. It's true that some of the eroticism might be accidental, stemming from the prevalence of homosocial interactions in 'Frankenstein' which in turn is a result of misogynistic nature of 19th century Genevian society and in-novel universe reflecting it, but like I mentioned before, it still feeds into the queer reading of the text and translates beautifully into Jekyll and Victor being both extremely misogynistic towards Lily and their mutual homoerotic tension. In the scenes where Henry purposes his plan to Victor he practically seductively purrs it into his ear, Lily becomes merely a female buffer that allows for that interaction, a female presence which is an excuse for male closeness (here I have a couple of examples actually: Dead Ringers, Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, Scream (in a roundabout way, through murder) and a couple others, but that deserves its own article). I won't even mention more references to the novel, because that's a lot already.

Penny Dreadful, although I believe largely unintentionally, expands on what is already there through the changes it introduces in relation to the novel's plot. I have nothing else smart to say, I just think it's worth considering.

*I use the word 'queer', because that's the umbrella term we use in academic writing for years now and even our lgbt+ group at university is called 'queer', so don't come at me with stupid takes

[bimbonaparte]

daddy lessons (parenting in spn vs. being human)

I have not been able to stop thinking about this for weeks and it’s making me insane, so apologies to all but here we GO. McNair (Being Human UK) and John Winchester (Supernatural) both raised their sons to be weapons in a secret war and did unforgivable things in the process, but thanks to some key differences in their parenting approach, we get wildly different kids out of the equation. To recap the middle bit of the Venn diagram here, both fathers:

Dragged their kids around the country, raising them like soldiers to fight a supernatural enemy; it’s unclear when anybody’s first kills took place, to my knowledge, but we can safely say that they were at way too young an age

Weaponized the memory of a dead mother as an excuse for their crusade

Moved them around constantly and denied them almost any outside connections; by design, their whole world is wrapped up in each other

Raised their kids (Tom and Dean most successfully*) to have little identity outside of hunting and to be entirely beholden to the cause, leading to a very upsetting self-sacrificial streak

Demanded military-esque obedience; some questions may be allowed here and there, but ultimately dad is the superior officer and it’s his call

Lied repeatedly to their kids “for their own good” and kept them on a need-to-know-basis, even for stuff that they REALLY needed to know

*(I’m generally focusing on Dean & Tom in this analysis, since I think Sam escaped some of this by rebelling against the notion of a “good son”)

Hell, they even had similar deaths (i.e., made the decision to keep their kids in the dark -- rather than, say, explaining anything or asking for help -- and walk into a confrontation with an old enemy that they knew they wouldn’t survive). But despite all this overlap, we end up with two wildly different characters: jaded & emotionally volatile Dean, who drinks & throws punches to cope with feelings and performs toughness as if there’s a panel of judges in the corner at all times; and sincere & emotionally vulnerable Tom, who is also quick to throw a punch but who talks about his feelings, cries easily, and is totally unconcerned with whether or not he’s perceived as tough or masculine. I literally can’t stop thinking about it.

If you ask me, the two diverge thanks to some key differences between the McNair and John Winchester school of parenting. Despite the NUMEROUS mistakes McNair made in Tom’s upbringing, we have to give credit where credit is due:

McNair loved Tom. Unequivocally. Thought he was the best person to ever exist. Told him this daily. Told any given random stranger who stood still long enough in Tom’s general proximity. Reinforced it with physical affection and affirmation. Tom never had cause to doubt this for even a second during his entire upbringing, and it shows.

McNair must have realized at some point that Tom was different, that his take on the world was always going to be a little bit naive. Instead of trying to change this or toughen him up “for his own good” (which I can very much imagine being the John Winchester approach), McNair seems to have thoroughly embraced this aspect of Tom’s nature.

Part of that is expressed through the "code.” McNair raised Tom to live by a strict code geared towards a) survival as nomad werewolf vampire hunters, and b) survival as Tom, specifically, who has incredible physical aptitude but struggles with other kinds of learning & social cues. The code has its downsides (namely the unquestioning obedience bit mentioned above), but otherwise functions as a sort of framework that Tom can follow for navigating the societal rules & interactions he doesn’t fully understand. (There’s also the whole “teaching Tom to respect others” thing, which I could honestly write an entire dissertation on).

Beyond the rules McNair thinks they need to survive, however, McNair seems to delight in Tom simply being Tom. This shines through most with Tom’s disarming sincerity -- which he retains largely because McNair (and society at large) never tried to train or polish it out of him. There are a dozen examples where Tom cuts through layers of conversational propriety and is just genuine, because it doesn’t occur to him to be otherwise. Where other characters (like Hal) can’t help laughing at him at least a little, we see McNair take him seriously, respond with encouragement, and even match his sincerity (see: “You’re perfect”) despite the fact that McNair was raised in a society that would frown on men talking like this to their grown sons.

We therefore end up with a Tom who earnestly says things like “virginity is like a flower” with zero self-consciousness. Who would have come along to tell him men don’t talk about sex like this? McNair certainly wouldn’t have; his top priority throughout is supporting Tom as-is, not molding his personality into some idea of what a man is or should be.

The end result of all this is a very sweet, very straightforward, emotionally vulnerable killing machine. “Always be polite and kind and have the materials to build a bomb,” indeed. Tom is obsessed later on with being “a success” in a very performative way, but -- as all the characters around him repeatedly remind him -- this is not something that McNair ever cared about or put on him.

What I would love to do next is a) also acknowledge the incredibly profound ways that McNair wronged Tom (starting with killing his parents, which cannot be glossed over) and how this fucked him up; b) contrast all this with the John Winchester approach to raising child soldiers (SIGH) to see how it is that we ended up Dean; and c) look at Dean and Tom’s perception of their respective fathers. BUT. I unfortunately have to go do actual work stuff or I am gonna be in big trouble (plus this is getting LONG), so I’m gonna be revisiting this another time. In conclusion tho: Tom McNair fascinates me beyond measure, I cannot get over this, and I do not want to. TBC.