#although technically this one was written first
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maesterchill · 2 days ago
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wound
Written for @drarrymicrofic prompt 'wound'. A gift for @sweet-s0rr0w on her birthday. Happy birthday to my talented, kind and generous friend, hope you have the loveliest of days!! 🥳💝 (380 words CW: voyeurism) Thanks to @citrusses for giving this a look-over, and suggesting I add a final line to cap it off!
It's funny, really, how much of his job involves watching Potter get naked. 
He'd thought working the graveyard shift in the Ministry security room would be boring as all fuck. Little did he know how frequently Britain’s top Auror unwound in the company gym during off-peak hours. And although surveillance of staff in the showers is strictly forbidden, the use of Extendable Eyes in the changing area is technically permissible—to deter locker theft, of course.
Cataloguing Potter’s scars and battle wounds had become Draco’s number one way to pass the long, dull hours of his shift. At first, his favourite was the shooting star on Potter’s right buttock: a raised keloidal scar that caught the light—and Draco’s breath—whenever Potter bent at the waist.
But the shooting star has some tough competition. Like that brutal-looking scar low on his abdomen, slicing right into his pubic hair, not dissimilar to the ones that decorate Draco’s own chest. There’s also the light peppering of bruises and scrapes on Potter's knees. Draco has indulged in some speculations about the reasons for those.
Lately though, Draco's favourite is the one that starts at the base of Potter’s throat. The one that peeks out of his uniform collar, hinting at a life lived dangerously. The one that winds itself sinuously around his torso, hugging him like a glossy purple boa constrictor. What Draco likes best about it is the way it flexes and puckers as Potter pulls his shirt on, and how it's often the last glimpse of forbidden skin he sees before Potter heads home.
Draco leans back in his chair and undoes the buttons on his work trousers, appraising Potter like a fine artwork.
Merlin, he's so hard already.
As Potter undresses, Draco rakes his eyes over that winding scar, thinking about what it would taste like—salty and musky from the sweat of a mission—and whether it would be smooth or rough as he ran his tongue along it. With a shiver, he unspools over his fist imagining the sounds Potter would make, the sounds Draco would pull from him, if he ever dared to do just that.
He’ll never get to touch Potter. But the flawed grace of Potter’s vulnerable body is the only thing that’s touched him in months.
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impawsiblecat · 1 year ago
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100 Days of Deathduo
Haunted Mirror AU- Part one!
Tw: spooky scenes and vibes
I didn't have time to write a chapter today because it is my birthday so I have posted one I wrote a while ago! It also is split up into two in case I needed another chapter so ignore the a rupt ish ending <3
    There is a mirror in the living room of Clover’s house, one passed down through the generations until it had ended up above her mantel, a decoration way fancier than anything else she owns. The border is silver, twisted into whirling snowflakes and vines, emanating the image of a cold, snowy land. It is beautiful, and Clover uses it to check her reflection as she walks by, although something about it feels… strange. Otherworldly, perhaps, but Clover just chalks it up to her imagination. 
    Sometimes, Clover could swear frost gathered on the edge of the mirror, but whenever she looks, there is nothing there. She chalks it up to the reflection of the silver border, a figment of her imagination. Other times, she sees someone in the mirror in her peripheral vision, only for it to b a pile of laundry. And yet, Clover is used to the strangeness, used to the aura of mystery surrounding it. Old furniture usually has that effect, right?
    When her younger cousins come over to visit, they claim the mirror is haunted, and take turns saying the name Bloody Mary into it, chickening out before saying it three times in a row and running away screaming when they finally do. Nothing happens, of course, and the cousins end up laughing after their shenanigans. And yet, when Clover looks up, she could swear she sees a faint, silver hair figure in the glass. She laughs too, amused that her cousins have infected her brain with the ghost stories. 
    The mirror isn’t the only thing left from her descendants. Her great great grandmother, or aunt, perhaps, was a writer, famous for a story. Although Clover doubts anyone other than her family knows about her works, Clover still enjoys them, reading yellowed pages of reprinted books. She struggles with some of the language used, but she loves the books nonetheless. Her favorite is the one about a cursed individual, who disappeared out of guilt and was never seen again. The ending is tragic, her favorite kind, and everytime, Clover is left to think of the possibilities of what could have happened now.
    Her cousins tease her in their silly, childish ways, wondering why she would choose the one story that ends in despair, but Clover lightly sends them back to their parents in order to reread the book. There is something captivating about it, about the characters and sadness and tragedy depicted. 
    The mirror watches her as she reads, and she looks up when she feels eyes on her, although she once again doesn’t see anything. The feeling disappears as soon as she stops reading, and continues when she turns back to the book. The room seems a bit chillier than normal, but Clover can’t be bothered to get up and fix it. She ignores the feeling of being watched, and continues to read, getting to the buildup, the climax, and the end. The cliffhanger that will never be resolved, the sad ending that can’t even count for bittersweet.
    As she reaches the last line, the mirror falls.
    It startles Clover, and she snaps the book shut, staring at the mirror. Her cousins must have played near it again before they left, and Clover takes a few seconds to calm her racing heart before she goes to mount the mirror again. 
    When she touches the sliver, she pulls her hands back at the sudden cold. It feels like the border is made out of ice, although Clover is not sure how that is possible, and she can only stare at the mirror again. She grabs it again, gritting her teeth at the shocking cold as she mounts the mirror in its rightful place. Clover once again stares at the mirror.
    “Hello?” She says, feeling silly as soon as she says the word. She is too old for that type of silly, childish game, and after a couple of seconds, Clover shakes her head and turns back to the book so she can put it away.
    “Hello.” A faint voice says, so quiet Clover almost believes it's in her imagination, or perhaps an echo of her own voice. It sounds muffled, like it came from a closed room. She freezes, and then slowly turning around and looking at the mirror. A figure of a person disappears when she focuses on it, turning into a chair, and Clover laughs unbelievably. Those kids must have spooked her more than she thought with their ghost stories. 
    She turns back around, perhaps a little too quickly, grabbing the book and starting to hurry out of the room, when that same voice speaks again. “Wait.” It is once again quiet. Clover almost continues to leave, but her curiosity gets the better of her and she slowly turns around once again. This time, she focuses her vision on the edges of the mirror, and, as suspected, she sees a silvery figure in the corner of her eye.
    Clover bolts out of the room and into her own bedroom, trying to calm her racing heart. Her mirror is haunted. That is probably not a good thing. She opens her phone and looks up craigslist. Does anyone even use craigslist anymore? Clover decides it doesn’t matter, and she quickly fills out information about the mirror. And then she stops, because she can’t get rid of the mirror. It’s an heirloom. 
    Which means there is only one option. To exorcize the ghost haunting it. Clover opens a new tab, and quickly buys a bottle of water off of Amazon. She reads the Wikihow article “Three Ways to Exorcize your House or Dwelling.” She skims through it, ignoring most of the information, until she gets to one step. Kindly ask the spirit or ghost to leave, avoiding anger or fear. Clover can do that, right? It shouldn’t be that hard to just go up and ask a random person in a mirror to get out, right? Who is she kidding, if the fear of the ghost doesn’t kill her the awkwardness of talking to them will.
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carbonfiction · 7 months ago
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Dark Desires
older, best friends dad!Logan x reader
summary: a week ago you found yourself drunk texting your best friends dad; something that should've been a mistake, but you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would know everything you'd kept from him all those years. You'd been thinking about it for longer than you'd care to admit; adding to the fantasy. so what happens when logan finally indulges you..
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warnings: Swearing, dirty talk, F!Receiving oral, PIV smut, prone bone and missionary, Somnophilla (technically??), daddy kink, roleplay?? pussy sniffing?? Kind of voyeurism? But the person is very much asleep. Also tagging this for dubcon but it’s more pre established consent/free use and slight CNC vibes depending on how you view it? Tagged this the best i believe i can but ultimately you are responsible for your media consumption.
A/N: i don't know where this came from, other than i had a glass of wine and a naughty thought. i tried real hard on this and its a little darker than i usually write- not to mention longer- but i hope yall enjoy a filth filled piece of my intoxicated brain anyway. Et voilà.
Masterlist Words: little over 4k (oop- longest thing ive ever written.. i got carried away..)
Your heart is hammering away inside of your chest so insistently that it feels like your ribs are bruised and your breasts are trying to punch their way out of your dress.
You're still wearing the stupid thing and Laura is drinking another mimosa. Part of you is grateful for that. Yet while you want her drunk and snoring tonight, part of you can't help trying to stop her.
You make eye contact, give her the look. Tell her to slow down because you two have been down this road before. She gets wild, has fun for half an hour, and then spends the rest of the night dizzy in a bathroom asking deep philosophical questions like why do my eyes hurt? And why do guys suck? And do i still have puke in my hair?
But if she's drunk tonight, just enough to sleep like the dead, then what?
You set your own drink aside to check your phone for what feels like the hundredth time this hour and lift a shaky thumb to your texts.
You've read the thread again and again and again, and still you don't quite believe it. The party swirls around you. A hurricane of sound and the smell of cocktails is sour in your nose. You feel the heat of your friends, your fellow graduates. one day lawyers, doctors, professors, professionals in their field; and yet here you are reading over the texts again.
You feel like a little girl and yet simultaneously the most grown of women because you have a secret, a dirty little secret.
You were nearly as drunk as Laura is now when you sent the first text a week ago. You were celebrating the end of finals and you were curled up in bed after a long night out.
One of your other friends had flirted with the bartender. You'd told the girl to stop and Laura had reached from her stool and pinched your leg. Asking if you'd ever needed something so badly that you actually made a bad decision.
Everyone had laughed, all except you.
You know she was teasing and complimenting in the same breath. You're a good girl and everybody knows it. Reliable, honest and never involved with the wrong kind of guys.. Always a reason to why you were too busy to bother. You were studying, too busy hanging out with Laura. Too busy prepping for school, internships and the next two decades of your life.
You're no angel, although of course, no one was. You've had your share of regrettable hookups and disappointing boyfriends, but nothing that set your world alight. Nothing worth risking anything for.
But maybe what Laura had said thread under your skin more than you'd like to admit. Maybe you were just drunk enough to ignore the obvious risk.. Or was it that you'd been thinking about him for an indecently long amount of time?
So with finals over, diploma practically in hand. There was nothing preventing years of pent up lust from sending a jolt down between your legs, setting a crackling fire in your heart and making you sweat. Dripping down your neck, stomach, that spot on your lower back, they all tingled as you crouched on the corner of your bed and wrote a single text.
You: I need something.
You sent it. Had forced yourself to before you chickened out and immediately regretted it. You thought you'd worded it in such a way that you could play it off, pretend it didn't happen.
But you were sure in that drunken moment that Logan would read those three words and know everything you'd kept from him all those years. Every dirty thought, every horny fantasy, everything.
It was all right there in the text. 2am on a Thursday night and truly it could only mean one thing. You put the phone down, tried to make yourself go to sleep.
Logan was an older man with a life. A job, house and a child- your best friend- and you were sure he wouldn't even see the stupid thing until the morning when you could say you meant to message Laura. Not him, not her father. But then you picked up the phone again, half panicked and ready to change your mind, when you'd saw those little dots.
That meant he was writing something back, at 2am on a Thursday night, either in bed or his limo.
Logan: You need to go to sleep
Of course.. Responsible. That was the responsible thing to do. And you would do just that. But first you'd just write a quick text to apologize. Say it was the wrong number and sleep this off; pretend it didn't happen for the rest of your lives.
But.. what if, for once in your life, it could be easy? What if Logan did know everything? What if.. There was something else? Because that was how this all started, hadn't it?
You'd always felt something more, saw something different in his worn eyes, his gruff demeanor. Heard something he was saying when he really wasn't saying anything at all.
Or.. Was it all in your head? Was this only ever a one way infatuation? A young woman's crush, a dark fantasy that only grew darker with each new kink you discovered in yourself? Losing all confidence, you texted back.
You: sorry. Wrong number.
And that was that- or it should've been that- If it was only ever a one way street. You put the phone down, tried desperately to keep your eyes closed, but the moment you heard the phone buzz again you peek.
Logan: Is that true sweetheart?
Oh no, no. it wasn't true at all. You knew he knew exactly who'd texted and why; what you wanted him to do. You'd been thinking about it for years. Adding to the fantasy. Soaking your sheets in the middle of the night when you couldn't sleep, all that brought a temporary relief. If only for a little while; So, you text back.
You: No
Just that. A simple No.
Logan: You telling a lie?
You: Not exactly
Logan: So you wanted my attention then?
You: Wanted? No Logan.. Need.
And yes, you know need is a very strong word.
Logan: You feel very strongly about that huh? Strong feelings can be dangerous sweetheart.
You: what if i want something dangerous.
You answered back with the most honest thing you could say. And then there was a pause, a very long pause, in which you could see no dots, and even started to wonder if he'd abandoned you. Left you on read.
A thousand images erupted in your mind, different versions of him sitting and staring at your number- your words. Those cheap reading glasses perched on his nose as he wondered if this was some kind of game.
But if it was a game.. Logan was ready to play and after a few minutes your phone dings again.
Logan: you're being a real bad girl tonight, aren't you?
And then it wasn't your best friend's father you were texting. Well, it very much was- that was the crux of it, wasn't it? But now it was also the man. The man on the other side of the phone who was paying close attention.
You: Yes, daddy. very, very bad.
Now, In the darkness of his daughter's room, You imagine colors swirling on her ceiling. Your heart restless like a caged animal and there is a knot in your stomach twisting tighter and tighter by the second.
You don't know how long you've been lying here. 5 minutes or 5 hours. But you know you can't possibly wait another moment... But then you do, because you have to.
You haven't heard from Logan all day and that makes you afraid. Really genuinely afraid that He's forgotten or changed his mind.
Because, well, it's just you and Laura in here, isn't it? You're lying on the floor, a lumpy pillow under your head, and a spare, slightly musty blanket folded under your breasts.
Laura is snoring away in her bed, her limbs tangled with a stuffed animal almost the size of her- one you'd won her from a carnival. It was like old times, she slurred drunkenly. The three of you huddled together in her bed, giggling and watching some crappy reality show.
She'd tried to get you to join her and the animal in the bed, but you'd said no. Insisted that it was too hot tonight. That you'd rather be able to spread out on the floor. Fortunately, by the time you made it up to Laura's room, she was too far gone to argue.
Unfortunately, now though, there's a very drunk girl in her bed beside you, a possible witness to your depravity. And so you lie there, staring at the ceiling and forcing yourself not to text. Not to call. To just ignore the nagging doubt in your gut.
And yet again, you still find yourself opening the text thread. Reading through the things you told him, the things he'd told you. A formed plan and line after line of you promising things. All of the 'Yes, daddy I want this' the 'Please do that to me' The repetitive 'ill be a good girl, Promise' And then, at the very bottom, a safe word. It was when you'd agreed on the safe word that you knew this was for real. Not a fiction in a book or a fantasy playing out in a movie.
The word. Kitty. An inside joke from years ago. The word proof that all the little confidences and conversations held an attraction you were both willing to hide for the sake of decency
But.. you don't want to be decent anymore. You'd confided your fantasy, one that you had dreamt so many nights. Wished for it in the hot, comfortable haven of Laura's bed every time you'd stayed over. The thought of her older, attractively gruff father coming to you in the night and making you submit to his secret lust.
Of him pulling your panties to the side while Laura slept untroubled. Logan ravishing you while you whispered and mewled 'please, daddy, make me your filthy slut'
You've always been his filthy slut, haven't you? Deep In your heart. The thought is turning the wet spot between your legs into a soggen menace. You've been horny before, You've been needy before, but never like this- because you've never tried something like this.
Never wanted something badly enough to ask for it; or even beg for it. This was a dream, a dirty desire, a secret yearning never to be true.
Then you'd drunk texted. You told him and he'd responded, not with shock or disgust, but enthusiasm, cautious enthusiasm. But it was still only text messages. You haven't spoken to him yet, not properly at least. Even when you saw him walk in at the party, or in the limo on the way back to Laura's. You couldn't bring yourself to say a word. Your mouth was so dry, cheeks so hot. Laura had laughed and said you were flushed in the backseat- a lightweight to end all lightweights- when in fact you haven't had a drop to drink tonight.
You're going to throw your phone at the wall, you swear it. But No, that would probably wake her up. Instead, you conclude that you're going to find your pants, and you're going to leave this house and never come back. You love Laura but you can't bear it, can't believe you trusted him with this. You can't lie here and torment yourself about your decisions a minute longer about your need.
Then, your heart leaps into your throat. phone dropping onto your chest with a soft thud. Quickly you brush it off and turn onto your stomach. Your head hitting the pillow, eyes squeezed shut and pulse racing like you've run a marathon.
Through your closed eyelids, you see the glow of the hall light from the open door, only for it to vanish moments later. Either the door has closed or the light's been turned off, but you're not sure which because blood is racing so loudly in your ears. Breath escaping in overwhelming gasps.
Do you hear calculated heavy footsteps or is that your imagination? You struggle to listen for Laura. Is she awake or still sleeping? The tension so tight in your chest that you begin to feel dizzy, almost nauseous. Then comes the creak of the floor at the foot of your makeshift bed, the unmistakable presence of another person in the room, their eyes on you.
You can't stop your body from trembling slightly as the sheet is softly yanked away. Adrenaline courses through your veins, making your body buzz with anticipation.
Your legs are bare the cool air of Laura's bedroom. You're laying on your stomach. Face pushed into the pillow, eyes clenched shut as if you're locked into a deep, drunken sleep- like you should be.
Your legs are splayed out, dark lacey panties riding up the crevice of your ass. One of your ass cheek's indecently exposed... then a rough touch caresses over the swell of that exposed cheek, two big exploring hands, gliding over you.
You hear the grunt of a man, and you know it can only be Logan. He's the only other person home.
Your heart is beating so hard you're afraid you're going to pass out. Laura is on the bed, sleeping mere feet away, and her father is groping you in your supposed sleep.
So the question becomes: are you dreaming now? or are you praying this is as far as he'll go?
when Logan pull's the fabric of your panties to the side, you know he's willing to go much further. He's quiet in the darkness around you, but he's big and the house is old; the floor creaking and groaning as he readjust's his heavy weight.
Your panties are roughly hiked over one cheek of your ass, the sound of ripping lace filling your ears. Logan's hot breath roll's over your ass and the tremble in your limbs becomes a full shiver.
You can feel his scruffy face so close to your body, Feel his nose against the crevice of your ass as he roves lower. Dipping further until his mouth- his nose - is pressed into the folds of your bared cunt.
You hear how he inhales deeply, toes curling in response. Your fingers lay over Laura's spare pillow, the case tight in your grip. He's smelling you, nuzzling against your dampening skin not once, but many times. Lewdly breathing in your scent like a dog that's found something it likes.
His calloused hands spread you open so he can breathe deeper still and when hes as deep into your cunt as his face will allow, his wet tongue slides out to lick at you. You cannot stifle your moan at the feeling, immediately biting your lip to keep from growing any louder.
But with this the culmination of so many fevered late night fantasies, you dont know if you are dreaming.
His wide tongue laps at your swollen clit, swiping open the seam of your pussy and to the point just shy of your tighter hole. You hear logan growl into your wet slit like a monster unleashed from beneath the bed. Feeling how how his licks grow stronger, longer and twice as ravenous as he steadily turn your pussy into a drooling, dripping mess.
He laps at you in the quiet darkness of Laura's room, calculated and experienced as you fight to not to cry out. The pressure of an impending orgasm building so tight in your body that it feels time you woke up.
And so you take a deep breath, a rough gasped sound falling out too. Your fingers claw at the pillow as you flex your lower half.
"Hmm?"You grumble, pretending to bat away the cobwebs of sleep. "Wha-whats happening, What are you doing?" You ask, voice thick with mock confusion.
Within moments you feel Logan's tongue retreat from your pussy, a weight so much heavier than your own crawl over your half naked body. You feel him pressed tight against you, still clothed if the scratchy fabric tells you anything, but an unmistakable bulge is hidden inside. Hard and large against your ass you feel Logan's arm rub against your shoulder. A big hand sliding over your mouth.
"Quiet, sweetheart" he growls in your ear. "Daddy's had enough of your teasing"
Another large hand slides beneath your sleep shirt to cup your tender tits, The nipples diamond hard against Logan's palm. You cant help but moan into his hand as you plead.
"Please. Didn't mean to tease" its a wine, petulant in tone.
"Course you didnt.. Shame S' Too late now" he whispers against your ear, teeth biting into your earlobe. The hand on your breast trails down. Right the way down to his slacks.
"B-but Laura" You warn him in a whispered panic, hearing the sound of a zipper sliding down. you struggle teasingly, hips bucking back against him. Its not enough to cause a scene or enough to wake your sleeping friend- his sleeping daughter- but just enough to make him pin your body down. Enough for you to feel a fraction of his real strength.
Logan's muscles bulge from the effort of caging you against the floor and spreading your legs.
"Nuh uh, Stay still. Stay right where ive got you" he murmurs darkly in your ear, voice a low rumble. the words fire through you like liquid lightning as you bite into his palm, not to fight but to restrain a high pitched moan that you fear could wake the neighbors- not just Laura.
"nothing you can do now sweetheart, just gotta take it" Logan says and you hear the mocking smile in the words, feel the throb of his thick cock as it emerges from the confines of his pants. "Kept telling me you were a good girl, so show me"
With your stomach flat against the ground, legs spread wide beneath him, you can do nothing but tremble as his cock slips between your legs. The cock belonging to your best friend's father sliding deliciously across that little bundle of nerves that sparks a whimper of pleasure.
Your eyes roll back as Logans hips buck, cock brushing your clit again, running up and down your slit torturously slow. "fuuuck, you feel that? How hard you've got my cock?"
You're kicking your legs now, moving your hips. It could be viewed as a struggle but its not, not really, you're just so desperately excited you can't keep still.
"Don't need to fight me baby. Just let daddy in hm? let it happen sweetheart."
And then he's pushing inside your body in one heavy thrust; slow and impossibly deep. The weight of him inside your cunt making you mewl against his palm. All the years of secret yearning, wet fantasies and subtle flirtations have all led to this moment.
It doesn't take many thrusts before your tongue is rolling out of your mouth, licking wetly against his palm like a grateful dog- a bitch in heat. You try to use it to muffle the moan that follows, a pitiful sound mixed with pleasure, like you're ashamed to be in the situation.
Used and humiliated around logans cock.
Its push followed by retreat, a half thrust and then withdrawal over and over. "So fucking tight" Logan growls as you wiggle your ass, not certain if your trying to squirm further in to his grip or out.
He's stretching your walls apart, the burn of his size delicious with each heavy he offers. Each bringing a pulsing throb on your clit. "Yeaaaa, that's it, take it like a good girl.." he groans. "S' what you wanted isn't it."
Logans right, this is exactly what you wanted and more. His body trembles atop yours from the exertion, balls squeezed against your ass, his hand on and off clenching around your breast. His thrusts picking up in pace as you struggle and squirm to keep quiet even under his palm
"L-logan" you whimper as he pushes particularly deep, pussy squelching lewdly from your arousal, his hand barley muffling the word. He knows your close before you do, can feel your cunt clenching desperately.
"Getting fucked so good your gonna cum sweetheart?" he rasps in your ear, panting into it. "C'mon, tell daddy how good his cock feels."
"S-so good.. F-fuck yes daddy, please"
You whine and It is a struggle to pry his strong hand off your mouth to get the words out.
"Go on sweetheart. Cum, coat my fuckin cock. Show me this cute little pussy is mine"
and then his big hand clamps back over your lips as he begins to fuck you into the floor. Your orgasm crashes over you in burning waves. Every stroke becoming an ecstatic agony, overstimulation starting to buzz over your bones. Its a constant struggle to hold your moans and neither of you can move properly for the risk of waking Laura .
But Logans hips remain unrelenting, Fucking you prone on your friends floor. His balls swinging, swatting unbearably at your clit with every entry. The heat of him and being trapped against the floor is almost unbearable, but so is having to keep your whimpers quiet. sweat beads hot on your brow
you can hear his own desperate attempts at staying quiet. Broken only by muffled groans, grunts of exertion, and primal chesty growls as your cunt clenches wetly around him.
Yet the discomfort of overstimulation is no match for the absolute bliss of your submission. Your toes curling so hard you're on the verge of a cramp.
The friction between your clit, Logan's cock and the floor builds to an intolerable pressure. Something must give way. The temptation to lose all control and scream his name too great. Now that possibility of you blacking out is too dangerous to ignore. So you say it the word.
"Kitty!"
Not because you want to, but because in this moment you have to. Almost as soon as the word leaves your lips and sinks into the pillow, wet from saliva and tears, you feel his body shudder. muscles seizing while a heavy groan sounding out into the skin of your neck.
"you okay?" he pants softly worry creasing his brow. "Was it too much?"
Your wordless and it worries him. Making him pull back, cock slipping free with a hushed hiss as he helps you shift onto your back, so he can look at you properly.
Your hands rise, fingers caressing his scruffy cheeks. "M'okay" you pant, eyes on him. "wasn't too much. Promise."
No, in fact, It was just right- before it all overwhelmed you that is. Now? now you just want to hold him, make love to him. Hold onto something- someone that isn't really yours. Eye to eye, your mouth slides back over his, legs spread back open, ready to welcome his length back inside. Without a word you buck your hips down, beckoning him to fuck you again.
Things are much quieter this time. Pace slowed to deep grinds rather than shallow thrusts, pleasure once again coiling in your gut as you lean up to watch his cock disappear inside.
"Feel so good sweetheart, my good girl" he coos, lips against yours as his hand slips back to cup your breast. "My good girl with a fuckin perfect body"
You keep your eyes on logan, blissful smile across your face, and for this moment he's not your best friends father. Not with the way he's gazing down at you with a mixture of lust and long held affection. "always wanted you" he whispers, hand moving back from your breast to cup your cheek. "But I would have kept that secret forever.."
You squeeze him to your chest, heart stuttering at the admission as you lock your arms behind his neck, legs tight around logans waist. You whimper back his name, a plea on your tongue.
"Want you to cum logan.. Please, need to feel it"
You want it more than anything, to feel his cum pushed inside you; for it to drip out later as a downright filthy reminder. You kiss his neck, then cheek, and finally his lips. You want Logan to claim you right here on the floor, right under her nose and you know it makes you a bad friend. Your eyes roll back, hands clawing down his chest as you feel yourself giving up all thought to the rush that flows down the center of your body. The one that begins and ends in the wet, sticky place between your legs, Where the sensitive bud of your clit pulses like a dying star.
it's then he growls much too loud, and you respond back in a whimper, lips pressing tight as you cum together in panted kisses. Him pumping hot heady ropes of cum inside your cunt without reservation or regret as you clench in a vice grip around him.
Tomorrow you will be sore, you know it for a fact. But Tonight.. Tonight You can revel in a fantasy made flesh, your flesh and Logans wrapped around each tight. You drag weak fingers down through his damp hair, then his back, feeling the way his shirt is soaked through with sweat.
Logans panting has subsided by now, breaths no longer crackling besides your ear. He plants mouthy kisses at the juncture of your neck, ever so gently, like a sated wolf nuzzling at the muzzle of his mate. You giggle quietly as those kisses grow fiercer, teeth nipping at your neck.
"my good, great, naughty girl" he murmurs against your skin, voice soft. "you feeling okay sweetheart? sure it wasn't too much?"
You nod and he can feel the enthusiasm seep from the move as you grasp his face again. "Mhm, better than okay. Was perfect" you hum sleeplily, content in his hold, in the scent of him. Your eyes flutter, lashes tickling his cheeks as you kiss him long and deep, until the rub of his beard hurts your face and sleep begins to take you under.
You both know tonight was the culmination of so many fevered dreams. The breaking point of lust and its power that can't be fully expressed in words. So he holds you close- just as you do him in your rest- for a little while longer, until light begins to filter soft through the curtains and the reality of what you'd both done really begins to set in.
thats it!! lemme know what you thought anddddd yea! asks are always open to shoot the shit, drabbles and more! <333
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womenlovee · 2 months ago
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Under Your Skin
pairing: ava starr x fem!reader
summary: your roommate, yelena, can’t stand the love bubble that has become of both you and ava
warnings: implied sex, mention of dead natasha, yes that’s a warning, nothing but fluff and teasing
word count: 1.1k
author’s note: i’ve honestly been obsessed with ava since ant man and the wasp and this new movie brought it back smashing
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“Well, hello there.” Your girlfriend husks, suddenly phasing into view right in front of you.
You nearly jump out of your skin, the spoon in your hand clattering into the sink as the taller figure disrupts your focus.
“Jesus, Ava!” You gasp. “You know I hate when you do that!”
You swat at her instinctively, only for your hand to pass through air. Again.
Ava chuckles, solidifying just in time to place her hands on your hips. Her touch now warm and firm. “Yes, but what fun would it be if I didn’t push your buttons once in a while?”
“It would be wonderful for me.” You mutter, narrowing your eyes at the smug smile curling across her lips.
She just hums, then pulls you closer until there’s no space left between you. Her fingers trail gently up your side, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.
“You’re too easy to tease.” She murmurs, and before you can argue, she leans in to kiss you.
It starts soft, slow—just the press of her lips against yours. But as soon as you make a small, contented noise, everything shifts. Her hand slips down to the curve of your ass, and her mouth moves with more intent. Her tongue swipes across your lips before sliding past them, deepening the kiss.
You’re too lost in the warmth of her touch and the way she melts against you to hear the front door open and the telltale stomp of boots that follows.
“Oh, come on! Not in front of the food.” Yelena groans from across the room, her bag hitting the couch as she flops down dramatically like a rag doll.
Ava groans into your mouth. “Why is she here?”
You play with the baby hairs at the back of her neck, smirking. “You do remember this apartment is hers as much as mine, right? That’s what roommates mean, baby.”
You press a kiss to her cheek and turn back toward the cutting board, smothering a laugh as Ava grumbles under her breath.
You’re barely three seconds into chopping the bell pepper when you feel it again. Her warm hands slipping around your waist, fingers splaying across your stomach like she owns you.
“Ava.” You warn, not even turning around, your knife pausing mid-cut.
“Yes, darling?” She purrs in that raspy accent you love so much, her lips brushing your ear.
With a sigh, you set the knife down on the cutting board and turn to face her.
You walk your fingers up her chest, stopping just below her collarbone—her eyes following the motion like you’ve put her in a trance.
“You need to go sit down before you phase through me and make me cut myself.” You say, raising an eyebrow.
“I won’t. I’m completely solid.” She replies, giving your waist a gentle squeeze, completely ignoring the doubt written all over your face.
“You said that last night when we were…” You trail off, eyes flicking to the blonde hair barely visible above the back of the couch. “Talking.”
“Nice save. Ten out of ten believable.” Yelena snarks, not even bothering to look at you. “If I hadn’t heard you last night through the walls, by the way. Some of us aren’t deaf.”
Your cheeks flush at the admission, and Ava, who’s failing spectacularly at hiding her smug grin, barely manages to suppress it before you shoot her a look that screams I will take sex off the table.
Which, to be fair, has happened many times before.
No one would ever believe that your now overly confident and snarky girlfriend used to be so shy. You technically first met while helping Scott and Hope bring back Janet. That was before Ava had any real control over her powers.
Although she was perceived as a villain to the group, you saw through her. The pain she had to constantly fight, the machines she had to be connected to. You saw her.
You remember when she had shyly asked you out after running into you, ironically while on the run. You were quick to say yes, having already developed feelings for her, even though it would’ve been considered extremely frowned upon considering you were labeled a “hero” and her a “villain.”
That same night, you both ended up outside your small apartment building. You went to tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, only for your hand to suddenly phase through her, causing her to flush even more. She’d started to explain she still couldn’t fully control it, especially in stressful situations.
To this day, you tease her by saying she was flustered, which caused the phase. She, of course, insists she just didn’t have control.
“I hate it here. Do you know how traumatizing it is to live with sex in surround sound?” Yelena groans, grabbing a throw pillow and smashing it over her face.
Ava doesn’t miss a beat and snarks back. “Then maybe invest in better headphones instead of blaming my talents.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Yelena says in her thick accent, peeking out from under the pillow. “Let me just upgrade to noise-canceling every time you two get handsy near a vent.”
You sigh dramatically, pulling Ava’s arms tighter around your waist anyway.
“I’m never going to finish dinner at this rate.”
“Then let’s order takeout.” Ava mumbles into your neck, her lips brushing your skin between words. “I’ll tip extra if it gets here fast.”
“Ava.”
“Yes, love?”
“Let me cook.”
“No.”
You huff, twisting in her arms and gently pushing her back toward the stool behind the counter. “Sit. Stay.”
Yelena immediately groans. “Oh my God, I’m going to drown myself in the sink. Do you hear yourselves?”
Ava sits, but not before shooting a smirk over her shoulder. “Jealous?”
“Of what? The gross domesticity or the weird ghost hands? Either way, I think I’ll pass.”
You laugh under your breath, turning back to the cutting board. Ava props her chin in her hand, watching you with blatant affection, like you’re the only thing that exists.
“Do you ever blink?” You ask, glancing over at her.
“Not when you’re standing there looking like that.”
Another groan from the couch. “I’m serious. Next time I walk in and you two are kissing near the stove, I’m calling Natasha from the grave.”
You glance back at Yelena. “You’d have to get in line behind the landlord, the neighbors, and probably the building inspector.”
Ava leans forward on her stool. “Totally worth the noise complaints.”
You shake your head with a smile, trying to focus on your cooking despite the way Ava’s presence still lingers like static electricity on your skin.
She may phase in and out of sight, but somehow, she always knows exactly how to stay under your skin in the best way.
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yandere-daydreams · 10 months ago
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Title: Malefic Attachment.
Pairing: Yandere!Malleus x Reader (TWST)
Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.
Word Count: 3.0k.
TW: Platonic (At The Moment) Yandere Malleus, Manipulation, Deliberate Social Isolation, and Obsessive/Delusional Behavior.
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The worst thing about you, Malleus had decided, was that you’d chosen to be his friend.
‘Chosen’, because you’d been the one to approach him, a dazzling smile painted across your lips and a dozen questions about his life as royalty in a faraway land on your tongue, and ‘worst’, because he couldn’t think of a single other thing about you that he despised so fervently, or for that matter, that he disliked at all. He couldn’t be sure when he came to such a grim conclusion, although it had most likely been some time between the fourth time you’d sought him out in the minutes between your classes and the seventh you apologized for having to cut your conversation so short, nor was he entirely certain why the thought of having any claim to you left him so unsettled, despite how innocent your relationship was.
Briefly, he’d considered keeping you at a distance, telling his retainers to make sure you stayed at arm’s length, but he hated the thought of inconveniencing Silver and Sebek, and he hated the thought of having no claim to you at all even more. He’d never hurt you, nor was he possessive by nature. Most days, the only thing he craved was to sit by your side and—
“Malleus?” He felt a shoulder nudge into his side, a glanced down to find you, of course – staring up at him, smiling as if you already knew he’d been too lost in his own thoughts to listen properly. Immediately, it was all he could do to settle into place and smile back.
Most days, the only thing he wanted was to sit by your side and be with you, and it would’ve been a shame to squander such a golden opportunity to do just that.
He moved to apologize, to explain himself, but there was no need. You were already rolling your eyes and returning to your previous posture; curled into yourself, your legs folded against your chest, chin resting on your knees. It was strange – what lengths such a small creature would take to make itself even smaller. Malleus couldn’t help but find it endearing, the way he might’ve found a plush toy endearing, or a particularly charming prey animal. “I just don’t understand what’s going on,” you sighed, slumping further into yourself. Instantly, Malleus knew that whatever the cause of your distress was, it would not survive much longer than that night.
Still, he listened intently, as you went on. “I mean, I have to be the problem, right? I’m the only common factor – well, me and NRC, but it’s not like people are avoiding school.” Another sigh. This time, when you buried your face in your knees, it remained there. “They’re just avoiding me. I must’ve done something wrong.”
“Never,” he said, because it was true. Because you were infallible, save for your poor taste in companionship. “I can’t imagine what would lead you to believe such a terrible thing. Did someone tell you that?”
There was no real point to asking. He would’ve known if someone had planted such a vile thought in your head; would’ve dealt with it on the spot. Despite his reservations, Malleus made a hobby out of your safekeeping. If something were to happen to you, a human brazen enough to share his company so often, it would’ve reflected poorly on him.
(It’d occurred to him that you were not the first human to ever approach him, nor would you be the last, but Malleus opted against lingering on such technicalities. You were the only human to enjoy the spoils of his protection, and that was enough to make you wholly unique.)
You didn’t answer, not at first. Instead, your attention drifted from him to the view you two so often enjoyed together. It’d been difficult to convince you to join him here – on the roof of Diasomnia’s tallest tower, where one could make out mile after mile of dark, inviting forest in every direction and the dark colors of your dorm uniform blended into those of the night sky – but it’d been even more difficult to convince Vil to let you slip out after curfew. While Malleus knew he had no right to question the nature of your soul, he did often wonder why you had to be placed into Pomefiore, of all possible dorms. Schoenheit was one of the stricter house wardens, outmatched only by Rosehearts. It was difficult to steal a student of his dorm away at the best of times, and Malleus rarely wanted to see you at the best of times. If you’d belonged to Savannahclaw or, should he be so lucky, Diasomnia, there would be no need to rely on Schoenheit’s sparse charity after he’d already gone to the lengths necessary to seek you out.
But you were precious to Malleus, and there were few things he wouldn’t do to ensure your happiness. He cared about you – irrationally so. “My lab partner,” you admitted, eventually. Malleus felt something deep within his chest lose its shape, and yet his smile could only seem to widen. “I don’t know him that well, so it’s not like I have any right to feel… betrayed, I guess, but—”
“You have every right to feel exactly how you feel,” he interjected. “What did he say?”
Malleus already knew. He wanted to hear from your lips, though.
“It’s a little hard to remember.” And yet, you didn’t hesitate to go on. “I think… I think he might’ve said it was too dangerous to be around me. That I was a hazard to have in class, or something.”
That was only half-true, although he doubted you were lying deliberately. Just ‘a hazard to be around’ would’ve been more accurate, on its own. “Is that all?” He moved closer, draping an arm over your shoulders. Automatically, you melted into his side – your body slotting perfectly against his. “You have to know how untrue that is. You’re an excellent mage, and a pleasure to—”
“He’s not the only one, though.” It was the first time he heard your voice so pitiful, so distorted. Malleus couldn’t help but find it endearing. It would’ve been better for both of you, if you allowed yourself to be more reliant on him. “My roommate – that’s someone you have to share a room with when your dorm doesn’t unanimously decide to worship the ground you walk on, I know you’re probably not familiar with the concept – requested to move last week, and—” Your voice caught in your throat, your gazing turning downward. Malleus felt his fangs sharpen behind his lips, but repressed the urge to act on his less wholesome instincts. “There’s this boy in my third hour – from Ignihyde, I think. I swear, I’ve never even talked to him, but last time we had class together, he just came up to me, and—” You paused, shrunk into yourself. You attempted to pull away from Malleus, but he only drew you in tighter, and your resolve gave away far faster than his patience. “He called me a freak.”
Ah.
Malleus had wondered what’d come of his brief conversation with your classmate. It was a tamer offense than what he’d expected, although you were having a much stronger reaction than he would’ve hoped.
You weren’t wrong, for what it was worth. You hadn’t spoken to that particular classmate, but you could have. He’d planned to confess to you during your shared period, although he hadn’t thought to phrase it quite so romantically. Sebek had overheard him building up his courage, and it’d only taken a few words from Malleus to dissuade him from doing anything so foolish. Not that it was foolish to want to be around you – if that was true, he would be the biggest fool of them all. It was only foolish to think that someone so insignificant, someone so unimportant had any more right to be around you than Malleus did.
He couldn’t help but notice, as time went on, that all of the people you may’ve once considered friends were rather weak-willed. It was a tragedy, really. Malleus was aware that he had a reputation among the mortal portion of NRC’s student body, but that was no excuse to act the way your ‘friends’ always seemed to – sniveling and shaking, brought to tears by even the implication of a threat. He worried, at first, that they’d go running to you, spout off something awful and exaggerated that painted his protective habits in an unflattering light, but as far as he could tell, it was unfounded fear – an easily dealt with one, at that. Should anyone ever try to put anything but distance between you and themselves, he’d—
Well, he couldn’t hurt them. You wouldn’t care for him as much as you did, if he tried to.
That was, if you ever found out.
Again, his mind drifted back to Schoenheit; all narrowed eyes and pursed lips and disapproving scowls every time Malleus mentioned your name. It didn’t make him angry – he’d never been quick to anger, and it would only be childish to change that now – but he didn’t care for the way he felt when he was apart from you, when he couldn’t find an excuse to do away with the flimsy barriers that separated you from him. He didn’t enjoy the tightness in his chest, the dryness in the back of his throat, the way every little inconvenience left him on the brink of violence. No, he didn’t care for the way he behaved when you weren’t with him.
Yet again, his mind turned to Vil.
Perhaps he was more prone to anger than believed himself to be.
“Mortals,” He was talking before he realized he’d wanted to. His gaze flickered from you, still despondent and curled against his side, to the landscape, all-but pitch black under the thick veil of night. “are fickle creatures. They tend not to trust what they don’t control. Humans, especially.”
Another jab to his side, albeit not as forceful as the first. “Keep in mind that you’re talking to a human right now, Mal.”
“How could I forget?” This time, it was Malleus who detached from you, pushing himself to his feet and offering you a hand to help you do the same. With a huff, you followed him, mimicking exasperation as you let him guide you. “I only meant to say that you might not be entirely understood by such short-lived creatures. I mean, you’ve seen how they act around me.” He squeezed your hand, and bashfully, you looked away. “You agree, don’t you, (Y/n)?”
It took a moment, but with a small sigh and slight smile, you nodded. “…yeah, I guess. It’s not like teenagers are supposed to be nice or anything.”
“You agree, then. They’ve been treating you cruelly.”
Your smile wavered. Malleus considered that it may have been your fragility that’d endeared you to him. Or your inability to hide it, at least. “Well, I wouldn’t call them cruel, but…”
“But?”
“They can be mean, sometimes, I guess. The people in my dorm, especially.” You forced an airy laugh, turning away from him entirely. “I… I think Vil might’ve told them to keep an eye on me. They’ve been acting like I’m under house arrest, lately.”
“You must know how unfair that is.” Almost as unfair as Schoenheit’s attempts to keep you away from him. “And I’m sure you must know that you’d be much happier in a dorm with more open-minded students.”
Immediately, your expression dropped. You tried to pull your hands out of his, but he only tightened his grip. It pained him to exert any amount of control over you, but some pains were necessary. Those that kept you within the scope of his protection, especially. “I… I don’t really like where this is going, Malleus.”
“You haven’t even given me a chance to explain myself.” He didn’t realize his hold had tightened into something bruising until your lips quirked downward, eyes narrowing as you struggled to choke down a fractured whimper. Reluctantly, he released you, but his hands soon found their way to your shoulders. You couldn’t run, not on a rooftop, not very far, but there was no reason to give you the chance to. “I only think that you should consider how happy you could be if you—”
“Malleus,” you interjected. “I really don’t—”
“If you belonged to Diasomnia,” he finished, despite your protests. Impressively, you managed to bite your tongue long enough for him to explain himself properly. “Our students are much less territorial, and the majority are still human. If you’re afraid you’ll be an outcast, don’t be. You’ll still be among your own kind, just a less hostile breed.” When you failed to move, he gave himself the luxury of a less restricting form of affection – bring one hand up to cup your cheek. “I’m only trying to suggest that you seek out a more suitable place for yourself. It’s not as if staying where you are will make you any happier.”
“…I like Pomefiore, though. And it’s not like everyone’s avoiding me.” A lie, albeit one plausible enough to send a bolt of white, searing fear from the deepest hollow of Malleus’ chest to the back of his throat. He flinched, but caught himself before his pointed nails could harm your delicate skin. If you had any friends left (aside from himself, of course), he would tear them apart. He would carve their hearts from their bodies. He would—
He would change that.
There was no need to be so gruesome about it. Not yet, at least.
“You care for it more than you care for me?” He made sure to keep his tone light, teasing, only letting it dip into something more serious when you bit the inside of your cheek and looked away. “Please, don’t tell me that you still think they’re worth your time.”
“They’re not all bad.” You still weren’t looking at him. Malleus might’ve been more annoyed if he thought you had anything beyond him to pay attention to. “Vil’s a really good house warden, and—and, we have these skincare nights once a week, which might not sound very fun to you, but—Well, I haven’t been invited recently, but—”
To your credit, you didn’t need him to say anything. All it took was a sympathetic look, his palm slotted tenderly against your cheek, and you cracked before he had the chance to say a word.
“…but, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.” You shook your head, shrugged, as if it wasn’t a matter of true concern. As if you wouldn’t give anything to be as near to him as possible. “It’s not like I can just decide to change the nature of my soul. That’s between the dark mirror and…” Another chirping laugh, like windchimes and birdsong and silver bells. Malleus could only hope he’d hear it again sometime soon, in a more celebratory context. “…itself, I think.”
“Normally,” he admitted, running his thumb over your cheek. “Save for when you have another extremely competent house warden to petition the headmaster on your behalf.”
Even in the dim light, he could make out your cheeks flush. Good. He wanted to have an effect on you – any effect at all. “Malleus, I—I really can’t ask you to do that. You’re already so busy, and I really don’t mind—”
“(Y/n).” Immediately, you went quiet. He rarely used your name, and you knew to pay attention, when he did. “If you can tell me, honestly, that you do not believe you’d be happier in Diasomnia than you currently are, I’ll drop the matter entirely.”
You pursed your lips, your eyes meeting his own for the first time since he’d broached the topic. “…and if I couldn’t say that?”
Biting back his grin would’ve been impossible. He could only hope you mistook his delight for relief. “Then consider it done.”
You really were a delicate creature. A few seconds of quiet anticipation, a gentle squeeze to your arm, and he all-but watched you fold into yourself, crumpling under the weight of your own isolation. A small, unsteady smile spread over your lips as you pulled away from him altogether, only to throw yourself into his chest; your arms winding around his neck as you pulled him into a lung flattening hug. After a startled beat, he returned the gesture, pulling you that much closer as you buried your face in the leather of his coat. “Thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you stuttered, speaking quickly enough for each word to slur into the next. “I—I just haven’t had anyone to talk to, but you’ve been so patient, and so nice to me, and I… I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” You pulled back, looking up at him. Your smile was brighter than he’d ever seen it, and Malleus took a moment to savor that he’d been the one to draw it out of you. “You’re the best, Malleus.”
“Think nothing of it.” He was tempted to pull you back, to hold you for just a few seconds longer, but you were already tearing yourself away from him, clapping your hands together as you rambled excitedly about how much fun it would be to stay in the same dorm, how much more time you could get to spend with him and Lilia, how excited you were to get to know Silver and Sebek and all the other underclassmen who liked to, in your own words, ‘bite at his ankles’. It was only when you took an over-eager step towards the rooftop’s ledge that he took you by the arm, pulling you back with an airy chuckle. “It’s gotten late,” he explained, snapping his fingers. In the blink of an eye, the two of you were standing in his dorm room, the rooftop and the night sky’s expanse left behind entirely. “Why don’t you spend the night in one of our spare rooms? I’ll make more appropriate arrangements in the morning.”
You agreed without a second thought, and as he walked you through the shadowed halls of your soon-to-be home, he decided that he’d been wrong, initially. The worst thing about you wasn’t that you’d chosen to be with him. Really, your closeness wasn’t a bad thing at all.
The worst thing about you, undeniably, was that you could still choose to be close to people who weren’t Malleus.
Thankfully, he was already taking measures to fix that.
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pretzelwrites · 3 months ago
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THE COLONEL'S INSPECTION .
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summary: after being apart from caleb for months, you and tara visit skyhaven for the summer solstice festival. he has… concerns about how you spent your time apart.
warnings: nsfw (18+, minors dni), dubcon/noncon, caleb is very controlling and a little mean in this, pet names (pipsqueak, silly girl, and 1 singular ‘gege’), fingering, virginity testing, smut with plot, lowkey badafabanatomy101, extreme jealousy, inappropriate use of evol, pre-confession caleb & mc, manhandling, orgasm denial if you squint. 
characters: caleb from love and deepspace (post-explosion with some edits), afab!mc reader, and tara. everyone is in their twenties.
wc: 2.9k
author’s note: soooo this is my first fic in like ten years… i hope you all like it! i took creative liberties for dramatic effect (i.e. mc’s grandma gifting caleb her antique dining table pre-explosion.) also, this was originally written in present tense before i switched it to past tense so if you notice any typos or grammatical errors…. that’s why rip. if i missed any warnings, please let me know!
* link to part two.  
visiting caleb happened less and less often. between your work with the hunter’s association, and his work as a colonel for the fleet, there was not much room in either of your schedules to meet up. that’s why whenever you had a few days of freedom, the two of you made sure to make the best of it. this time, luck was on your side. not only did you manage to get three days off of work because a big case you were working on concluded a month earlier than expected, but it also coincided with the summer solstice festival in skyhaven— and caleb said he would be free for most of your visit. what were the odds?
being freed up from the case meant tara could tag along with you, and you immediately invited her after asking caleb. he agreed to allow this with only one condition: she could not sleepover. it was a surprisingly rude request from the typically friendly and accommodating caleb, plus it was extremely inconvenient for tara. afterall, it was the only summer festival in skyhaven. most hotels would be booked up by now, and what was leftover would probably be low quality or expensive.
and your efforts to persuade him?
“i’m not changing my mind, pipsqueak.” he said dismissively although his tone was still cheerful. his rich violet eyes remained fixated on the new model plane he was assembling while he spoke into the phone, “this home is open to family, and family only.” even if you two weren’t technically family, you understood exactly what that meant— and no amount of pleading or batting your lashes would sway him. so, you begrudgingly told tara she’d have to find a place to crash for the entire trip. your friend, always the optimist, took it in stride and even seemed to enjoy flipping through the listings of premium hotels in the city.
“ooh! Y/N, look at this one! it’s got one of those infinity pools on the roof!” she’d exclaim while shoving her phone towards you over your desk of files. a holographic 3D model of the swanky hotel popped up from her screen. it was sleek and clean, mirroring the aesthetic that decorated most of skyhaven. you smiled and nodded in an attempt to feign the same level of excitement as her, but you found it hard to. 
for some reason, there was a growing sense of dread in the center of your chest. 
two days passed by quickly, with most of the time being spent trotting through the festival with tara and caleb— then finishing the night off at the bar with tara. caleb would say he couldn’t stay long, that he had something to tend to early in the morning, but that meant you two could enjoy yourselves without him. things were going smoothly… perhaps your worries were truly irrational afterall?
the first night, you and tara had gone a little overboard and were too drunk to end up anywhere other than the hard couch in her hotel room. the second night, you were invited out to dinner by tara’s favorite artist from the festival, you couldn’t possibly say no to her desperate pleas to tag along. that meant you had to cancel dinner with caleb twice, but you swore you’d make it up to him later. 
on the third day, you all decided to conclude your last festival visit with something sweet. the local shops were selling all sorts of solstice themed foods, and this particular parlor had brightly colored frozen yogurt with the cutest sun-shaped cookie bites topped off with iridescent sprinkles. you and tara couldn’t bare to pass it up, even though caleb seemed worn out by the constant activities. 
as you stood in line to order, he leaned down to whisper at a level only you could hear, “don’t spoil your appetite, pipsqueak.”  
that sounded like a threat.
you found a small table beside the window, and the three of you settled in. you sat beside tara, and caleb took the seat across from you. right away, the table was loud with lively conversation and laughter between bites of creamy sweetness. you all exchanged jokes and tidbits seamlessly, there was barely a second to breathe between the chatting. considering both tara and caleb were social butterflies, it was no surprise they got along well. 
somehow, the flow of conversation brought you to discuss each other's silly childhood habits. tara laughed at the way you’d steal his t-shirts from the dirty laundry to mop up any spilled juice and coffee, and caleb brought up how he would send you at least ten check-in texts every time you’d go out with your friends when you were teens.
tara’s eyes lit up and she nudged her knee against yours under the table. “oh, just like that guy leonardo! there must be something about you that brings out protectiveness from guys.” she turned to face caleb, “it makes sense that you’d do that since you two are close, but i told Y/N before that it would be so weird if leonardo wasn’t cute!” 
it was like the air had been sucked out of your lungs. even though you and leo were just friends, his feelings for you were hard to ignore, and you had gone on a few dates with him. you had told tara plenty of times that your ‘gege’ was protective, and wouldn’t be fond of the idea of you casually dating someone he’d never met. regardless of how old you both were, caleb was unable to shake this role. you blinked at tara, a silent plea for her to stop— be quiet, take it back, anything other than continue talking. 
she immediately caught on to the pleading look in your eye and attempted to backpedal. “i- i mean, not that it’s- hah- he’s not anything serious, of course. h-he’s a good coworker, is my point.” she laughed nervously, and you joined her in it. the conversation at the table carries on to a new topic, thankfully, and for a moment you thought you were in the clear… until you looked over to caleb. 
it was something only you, someone who had nearly a lifetime of experiencing caleb’s personality, would be able to detect. as he listened to tara’s ramblings about the exhibit of her favorite artist at the festival, the same one you two had drinks with prior, you immediately notice the way his smile fails to reach his eyes. in fact, his typically vibrant gaze seemed to have lost every fleck of color it had. he was merely going through the motions to keep up appearances.
the feeling of dread you had managed to shake off earlier returned tenfold, and the colorful dessert in your bowl suddenly became incredibly unappetizing. it melted into a puddle of sugary goop and soggy bits of shortbread as the sun disappeared under the horizon.
it was tara who first announced she would be turning in for the night. your heart fell further from your chest when you realized that meant being alone with caleb for the aforementioned dinner you promised him, and absolutely could not back out on. dinners with caleb were always a treat, but this time…
“it was good to see you, tara.” caleb’s smooth voice interrupted your train of thought. tara smiled widely and nodded, “it was nice to see you, too! you two have a goodnight!” she turned on her heels to walk in the opposite direction towards her hotel, while you and caleb headed back to his place. 
the trip back was full of what could only be described as bizarre small talk; retreading old ground, repeating details you’d already told him over the phone months ago, and answering questions that felt pointless to you. you wanted to shrug it off, to reason that surely the man you’d known nearly your entire life didn’t deserve to be treated so suspiciously, but this wasn’t meaningless small talk. he was fishing for information, attempting to piece together just what you were up to during your time apart. when the realization dawned on you, you suddenly became concerned about how every detail would be interpreted, and your responses shortened to a handful of words at most. 
you stepped inside of the familiarity of caleb’s home, letting out a satisfied sigh when the scent of him enveloped you like a warm blanket. “mmm, it’s always nice to come back to—” your words are cut off with a loud ‘click’, the sound of the door being locked behind you. 
“i already have dinner from last night prepared in the fridge, it just needs to be heated up.” caleb muttered while pulling off his heavy bomber jacket to toss onto the couch. the fact that this was likely the dinner you two were supposed to have the night before felt like yet another bad omen. “i- uh, great! i-i’ll set the table.” it was a habit you had picked up on in your youth. a dining table full of plates, even if empty, made you feel like your family was bigger than the one you’d found. you swallow down your anxiety and quickly trot to the kitchen, walking past the old table that used to be your grandmother’s. 
when you return, arms heavy with a stack of porcelain, caleb is standing by the table with his hands planted firmly on his hips. furrowed brows and underneath that, eyes downcast and unfocused. he appeared to be locked in deep thought.
“cal—?” 
“put the plates down and come here.” 
his tone was authoritative and flat—  the same tone he used when you were caught in a lie all those years ago. that persistent dread fully consumes you as you carefully place the stack of fragile plates onto the table and walk to his side. you looked to him expectantly, fists tightly squeezed shut, waiting to get scolded for your flakiness during the trip. in a flash, he pulled you flush against his body by your wrists, wedging you between his large build and the table. “a-ah! c-caleb, what the-”
“do you have any idea how fuckin’ rude you’ve been? how much restraint i’ve had to use lately?” his bionic arm, with all of its unnatural strength, takes control of your throat and holds your back firmly against his body. your frantic wiggling only makes the feeling worse, the metal causing red patches of friction on your throat. you have no choice but to stay still.
detecting your reluctant submission, he chuckled in bitter amusement. “ah, so pips hasn’t completely lost her mind…” caleb whispered, his warm breath skating down the side of your face. “cooperate and this will be over quickly.”  his human hand snaked under the hem of your dress, traveling up your skin and leaving a trail of heat in it’s wake. his fingertips gracing the frilly hem of your panties makes you squirm automatically, despite your efforts to stay still. 
he seemed to hesitate for a millisecond before his fingers roll over your mound. “h-hey!” you gasped, your entire body freezes in shock. caleb stroked over your pussy, the only thing between his touch and your skin being the thin lacey fabric of your underwear. his breath deepens as he traces over your folds, dipping a single fingertip down the center to trace over your covered clit. 
“you know, i didn’t pull strings on that case just to share our trip with someone else, right?” there wasn’t even enough time for you to be shocked by this revelation, caleb was moving quicker than your brain could comprehend. his hand trailed from your clothed heat up your body to cup your breast, rolling his palm over your nipple and then firmly squeezing the flesh. it was hard for him to control himself for longer than a few seconds, made abundantly clear by the way he alternated between roughness and tender touches on your hardening peaks.
“and after all i did, you have the nerve to skip out on dinner with me twice in a goddamn row…”
“caleb, y-you’re being-” your voice was trembling under the pressure of his robotic hand. it didn’t hurt, but it was rough and unrelenting. 
“and who exactly is leonardo? why didn’t you tell me about him when i called? just what did you do to make him think he could check on you like that, huh? it’s my job to protect you- or are you trying to replace me?” caleb’s questions are delivered in rapid fire succession, leaving no room for you to respond or plead your case. his robotic arm released your throat, giving you a chance to glimpse the dark blue and red ripples out of the corner of your eye. a heavy weight crashes onto your back, forcing you to lurch forward against the dining room table, your face crushed into the cold antique wood by his gravity evol. you squeal in protest, but all that does is make him press you down harder. 
he quickly hikes up your skirt once more until you can feel the cool air on your rear, which only solidifies how impossibly vulnerable you are in the moment. there’s another beat of hesitation, or admiration, from him before he pulls your panties to the side to fully reveal your pussy. caleb pressed his hand to your warmth, rubbing his knuckles over your folds slowly, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. “c-caleb, please think about what you’re doing. t-this isn’t right!” you whisper in desperation, as if he’d listen.
“i know exactly what i’m doing. i’ve just never had to resort to this.” he murmurs disapprovingly. “i used to trust that you’d tell me everything, pipsqueak.”
“i have told you every- unff!” your eyes widen from the sudden intrusion.
“hush. i’ll be the judge of that.” caleb’s middle finger, long and thick, slowly pushes it’s way deeper into your heat until it’s fully sheathed inside. “we promised to never keep secrets from one another, remember?” you are rendered completely speechless as his digit explores your most tender area, a place no one but yourself had. sliding along your walls slowly, rotating, prodding. it’s not like he was trying to give you pleasure, but rather inspecting you. sensing your shock and confusion, caleb answers the unspoken question on your lips.
“i’m just making sure you aren’t doing anything you’ll regret... there’s no reason for you to fight this if you have nothing to hide.”
caleb slowly drew his finger out and then slid back in with a second digit. the extra girth made you flinch and teeter on your toes. he watched your legs tremble from the unfamiliar pressure, your pussy fluttering and tensing around his fingers reflected both your discomfort and inexperience. “tolerate it for just a little while longer,” he urged sternly. his fingers pumped as slowly as possible, stretching your walls carefully.
caleb’s touch inside of you felt so right— blissfully so, despite it all. it was like every inch of his finger was created for your cunt, every ridge hitting you just right and coaxing out more slick from your core. shameful pleasure began to build in your body within a few pumps, which didn’t help how pathetic you felt being subjected to caleb’s control so easily. just as you were beginning to enjoy this bizarre sensation, it ended. he let out an approving sigh and pulled his fingers out with a wet ‘pop.’ 
your body was still his. 
despite not being able to see caleb’s face, his relief was palpable. his gravity evol lifted off of your body, but you still weren’t able to move. a different weight was placed on your back to hold you against the table. when two hands are planted on either side of you, you realize that he had practically collapsed on top of you.
“silly girl,” his head leaned against the back of your’s, nuzzling his nose into the depths of your hair. the cold silver of his apple necklace slid against your warm skin, sending a tingle down your spine. “you caused all this distress for no reason… do you enjoy getting a rise out of me?” caleb chided, but his voice didn’t boast that biting edge from before. his eyes fluttered shut as he took in a deep breath of your scent, attempting to still his rapidly beating heart. 
slowly, reluctantly, caleb stood up to free you from his crushing hold. your panties and dress are put back in place with a gentle touch, and although you wanted to slap his hand away, your head was spinning far too much to properly retaliate. he then turned you around to face him, revealing your flushed cheeks– one redder than the other due to the sheer force he had used when slamming you against the table, yet he didn’t acknowledge it or even look slightly regretful. 
his bionic hand reached up to fix your hair, like he often did. the artificial fingers felt strangely cold on your scalp, and not at all reassuring when combined with the heated ache between your legs. just barely in your line of sight, you caught a glimpse of his throbbing member through his denim. a wet patch of precum had formed at the tip along his upper thigh, saturating the already dark fabric with his sin. the sight of it sends a rush of forbidden excitement through you, but you quickly avert your gaze to hide your budding desire. caleb returned your timid expression with a warm smile, this time it actually reached his eyes. 
“now, we can eat.”
638 notes · View notes
manillamonkey · 18 days ago
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Bob Reynolds x reader nsfw
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God strike me down for the things I would do to this man
trans Bob, words such as ‘core’, ‘cunt’, ‘hole’, ‘pussy’. ‘Dick’ and ‘clit’ used to describe t-dick, oral (char receiving), ‘baby’ used once, gender neutral reader technically but written from a guy, blurting w no proofreading because god forbid a man enjoy being evil once in a while
“Shit… god…” Bob whined, muscular thighs staying clenched, keeping him hovered above your face, knees bent at that pretty 45 degree angle that drained him quicker. Sure, you have told him to sit down, but the sight of a pretty clenching pink hole and his hard little dick sitting up brought no complaints.
“Bob..” You hum, although it comes out more like a tease, arms hooking around his thighs to try pull him down, pinching at the inner flesh to get those little sounds out of him.
The first time the idea of him sitting on your face came to you after eating him out in bed. Something about him squirming on your tongue while grabbing fistfuls of the bedframe turned you on beyond comparison. That, and watching him snap the bedframe in half tickled a part of your brain.
“I know, I know. I just, don’t want to squash you.” He responded nervously. Poor baby, thinking you want anything less then to be squashed between those pretty thighs with your nose buried in a jungle. The only audible sound that comes from you is a disagreeable huff and another squeeze to his legs. He seems to catch on, and finally drops down.
Heaven. That’s what it is. Being hit with a face full of pussy and a nose full of musk. Little brown curls tickle at your nose and cheeks, your lips brushing against his wet throbbing core, T-dick pulsing. If the flavour wasn’t already setting in, you’d think about using your finger and thumb to jack him off until he was sobbing.
His sounds started up the second you dove in; little huffs, noises far too aware of Walkers room across the hall for your liking. His first choked up moan came when you took his dick in his mouth and sucked like it was the source of eternal life; although to you, it truly was. Bob nearly screamed, hands scrambling to find stability, one landing on the on the bed frame in an iron grip, the other grabbing at the sheets just beside your head. If the man wasn’t so nervous, he’d grab for your hair, but you knew he was a people pleaser.
You rotated between sucking at his throbbing dick and licking at his pretty, delicate folds, swapping when he grew oh-so slightly used to the feeling. His back was stiff and arched, thighs shaking as he struggled between sitting down and moving to get up and escape the overstimulation. Not that the arms around his thighs would let him get far, no.
His pretty cunt was always too sensitive; the way his face scrunched up and mouth froze in a silent moan as he came proved that. The folds pulsated, hole clenching around air for relief. You worked him through it, until his eyes finally snapped open and he looked down at your fucked-out expression and soaked mouth.
“Can I stay down here forever, baby?” You murmured into his pubes, only receiving a tired chuckle as he moved to climb off your face; arms stopping him. He looked back down at your glinting eyes as you gave another cautious lick to his core.
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rationaliity · 1 year ago
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my turn | gallagher & dr. ratio x f! reader ( 18+ )
requested !! ratio and gallagher are roommates, that's so totally normal right ? ratio takes time to tutor you, and gallagher.. helps you destress about school and work. gallagher may not be able to help you with tutoring, but ratio can help you destress. tags : dubcon in the beginning ( turns into consent ) threesome, double penetration, oral ( f. receiving ), arguing, use of a blindfold & handcuffs, slight possessiveness, dacryphilia, asphyxiation, dirty talking, mean gallagher at points, calls you a bitch, whore, slut, ect but also nicknames like doll, princess, sweetheart, dearest, begging / whining / crying, slightly painful sex, kinda throwing reader around like a doll, implied to be smaller than ratio & gallagher, fem anatomy word count : 5.5k
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your relationships with your roommates weren't exactly the normal college roommate situation. of course, in some parts of your life, it was. you three would argue over who did the dishes that day, even with veritas' schedule that he posted on a white board in the kitchen without telling either one of you. he had said that he thought about the three of your schedules and decided which days would work best for all of you. and he was right, he really did think about your schedules and made the best plan possible, which maybe irked you even more than if he had just written down names on the whiteboard haphazardly.
there would be times where you'd all be sat on the couch watching the latest and worst romcom to poke fun of it, and whoever tapped out first had to cook dinner. funnily enough, most of the time it was gallagher, he could hardly ever stand to watch two people pine after each other for an hour and a half without finding himself getting frustrated and yelling ' they should just fuck already ! ' at the tv. he'd stand up, tearing himself from where he was sitting beside you and immediately start on dinner, because he knew that he'd lost the game.
of course there were other similarities between the three of you and regular roommates, but it was the differences that you found yourself hooked on. veritas was in your year, and although he was taking classes far beyond the scope of your own, he still demanded that he helped tutor you whenever you were struggling in a particular subject, no matter what that subject was. you made plans that every thursday while gallagher was out at work all day working a double at the bar, you and veritas would take the living room and study the day away together. whether you were tackling mathematics or physics or literature, if you had a question, veritas usually had an answer. and if he didn't, he had a book that could answer your question.
veritas had a rough around the edges personality, but you could tell that he really cared about people, even if he didn't explicitly state it. or at least, he cared about you and your education. he was always snapping at you, telling you that you should at least go to bed before the sun rises, and maybe stop drinking so much coffee. if he was home, or if you saw him at college, he was always reminding you of things that you should be doing to take proper care of yourself. at college, when he was free from his classes, he followed you around, not because he didn't have any friends, but because he thought you needed someone to look after you with your self destructive behavior. so he says, at least.
and gallagher.. was a different story all together. he went to a technical college on the other side of the city, but he got the weekends off while you and veritas went to school. you would get back at around noon on both days, and veritas had classes pretty much all day until late at night, having stacked up his weekends with extracurricular activities that he didn't necessarily need, but they sure would look nice on his transcript. in those seven or eight hours while veritas was away, you were underneath gallagher in his bed.
you had no idea when it officially started to become a habit to spend your weekend crying out gallagher's name, but neither one of you were complaining, either. you knew that it started out of boredom on your part, and a nasty ex on his part. he had been pissed and frustrated, and you let him vent his anger out to you, and listened to him try very hard not to shit talk his ex because he didn't really want to say anything negative about her, but damn did she make it hard for him to keep calm. keying his cherry red vintage mustang and putting sugar in the tank was his last straw. he eventually emptied out his gas tank and replaced the fuel filter, and repainted his car with a iridescent black / purple coat this time, but damn did it take some work and quite a lot of money.
but through the entire situation, you were there to support him when he needed it. as it goes, one thing lead to another, and what was supposed to be both a celebration toast and a thank you from gallagher ended up with your clothes being dropped in the hallways outside of his room and his body pressed against yours, rushing to finish because you both knew that veritas was going to be home soon. since then, it had become sort of like a ritual of yours.
you trudged through the doors, dropping your bag at the door, completely missing the hook this time where you typically hung the bag. throwing off your shoes at the door, and undoing the claw clip that held up your hair, you were exhausted today. and you knew exactly what you needed, he was in his room probably playing some video game that he really didn't care about and neither did you.
stripping off your college blazer, you dropped it off at your room, already working to unbutton the buttons of your white dress shirt when you walked into gallagher's room, the room itself smelling so heavily of weed it gagged you for a second, but you had gotten used to gallagher's peculiarities by now. exactly like how you expected him to be, gallagher was spread out on his bed with a controller in his hands, playing some gacha game with a blonde traveller and their little fairy companion, a cute little game that you had to make a mental note to check out later after this.
" welcome home, " gallagher said while he sat down his controller, eyeing your slumped form as you stood in front of his bed, " school went well, i'm guessin' ? "
" school sucked, " you sighed, climbing into the bed with him before you could even get off your fully unbuttoned shirt, the fabric just hanging on your shoulders. gallagher laughed a little bit, opening his arms to take you in his arms.
" need something to relieve the stress ? " he suggested gently, holding you close to him. " you know, i was thinkin' of you the entire time you were gone. "
you couldn't lie to yourself and pretend that you weren't thinking about this moment the entire day, either, but you wouldn't exactly be as forthcoming about it as gallagher was. " mm. stress relief sounds nice. "
" you know, sweetheart, " gallagher's voice sounded like he was about to suggest something that he knew you would be on the fence about, but it wasn't like him to just completely ignore what he was curious about. " i was at the store the other day and i picked up a few things for you. mind if we try them out today ? " he picked himself up, still holding you in his arms so you were just kind of following his movements as he opened up his beside dresser and pulled out a pair of handcuffs and a red blindfold.
you raised your eyebrows, a mix of curiosity and confusion on your face. " i didn't take you to be one to try bdsm, gallagher. you always took me as a, uh, no thoughts, head empty, just fucking type of guy. "
" oh, absolutely, doll, " gallagher laughed, fiddling with the silk blindfold, twirling the soft fabric through his calloused hands. " you have absolutely no idea how easy it is to lose myself when i'm eight inches deep inside that pretty little pussy of yours. consider it a.. test, for both of us. "
" ugh, i've had enough tests for today, " you whined at the wording, being reminded of just how shitty your day at college was, but at least you were home now, and in gallagher's arms, which meant that even though things sucked previously, they would be okay pretty soon, and you'd forget about it all when you were crying out for him to stop because it was overstimulating you. " but.. we can try it for a little bit today. we've got a long time until i have to get back into my room, so i guess it doesn't hurt anything if our first few rounds are experimental. "
" i knew ya'd see it my way, baby, " gallagher grinned, shuffling around a little bit so that your back was pressed against his flat pillows, barely giving you any structure, and one day you're going to fuck in your room instead so you're a little more comfortable, but you weren't exactly thinking about that right now. " here, put your wrists together and up over your head, doll. "
you did as he said, feeling the cold metal of the handcuffs as he wrapped them around both of your wrists, hearing them click shut as he tightened them so they fit your wrists.
" you look so pretty like this, needin' me to do everythin' for ya, " gallagher chuckled, mostly to himself, as he leaned down and pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your lips. " you're doing so good, doll. " he pulled back to grab the silken blindfold, wrapping it around your head so that it was completely covering your eyes. " can't see nothin', right baby ? "
you felt your heart rate increase a little bit, suddenly the anxiety of not being able to see and touch him getting to you ever so slightly, but it was overshadowed by a surprising desire to continue. " y-yeah, i can't see anything. "
" good girl, " gallagher pressed another kiss on your lips, making you jump in surprise, but he pulled back before you could kiss him back. " i'll be right back, doll. just sit tight, you'll feel good soon. " leaving you with your hands over your head and handcuffed together, unable to see what was going on around you, you could only feel his body weight shift the bed underneath you. you didn't know where he went, the carpet muffling any footsteps that might have been audible to you if it were tile, leaving you in anticipation.
after a few moments of waiting, you could feel the bed dip again as his body get on the bed and in between your legs. " g-gallagher- " you whimpered out softly, finding yourself struggling against the handcuffs that you had honestly forgotten were around your wrists. " o-oh, yeah.. " you mumbled mostly to yourself, biting your bottom lip.
wordlessly, his fingers worked at your pants, undoing the button and unzipping them. he leaned down, his soft lips ghosting over your navel, right above your panties, before he tugged your pants off of your legs. he was sensual with it, his hands trailing down your now bare legs, something that you weren't entirely used to gallagher doing, but you figured that maybe the change in your usual routine was getting him extra worked up.
you could feel his fingers trail up your legs, wrapping two strong arms around your thighs and pulling them apart, so that he had enough room to slot himself in between your legs, close enough that his mouth was so close to your cunt, that was now so lewdly leaking slick that soaked through your panties. gallagher was typically a very vocal man, so it was surprising that he was so quiet now, but by this point you were finding it hard to think straight, especially when he peeled your panties to the side and you could feel his breath fan against your soaked heat.
" n-ngh..! just- get to it already, please ! " you stammered out, sounding a lot more desperate than demanding. as if on cue, finally he gave into you, burying his face into your heat, his tongue expertly working circles around your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud. " f-fuck..! " you cried out, your hips bucking into his face, seeking more friction. he seemed to oblige your needs, his tongue working faster, his plump lips slippery with your slick, sliding through your folds perfectly.
gallagher had never eaten you out like this. yeah, he was good at it, but he opted for a lazier approach, flicking his tongue against your clit, drawing out small, slow circles as his fingers found its way to your entrance. he was not doing any of that right now, instead, the way he ate you out was like he was a starving man who had never tasted anything more delicious. he was meticulous with it, every flick of his tongue, every lick and touch designed and planned to draw out the most moans from you.
" h-hah- fu-fuck, wh-what's gotten into you ? " you panted out through loud moans, your thighs shaking underneath his rough touch. all you could do was buck your hips up into his mouth, the pleasure building inside of you and needing to release, faster than you were expecting. maybe it was just the stress finally leaving your body, or maybe it was just the isolation of two of your senses highlighting your other senses, but you swore this felt better than it typically did. " g-gonna cum- please- " you felt your chest rising and falling heavily, your heart thumping against your torso.
" just like that, yeah, pretty thing ? want his fingers inside of your pretty cunt ? " gallagher asked, his voice coming from your side, making you jump up in realization that something was up. you heard a grunt of annoyance in between your legs, and you gasped.
" wh-wha- ?! "
" who knew the doc could eat pussy like that, huh ? " gallagher chuckled, cutting you off, and you felt a lump form in your throat, slowly coming to understand what position you were in despite the haze and neediness in your head. " you look like you're havin' fun, doll. ain't you to close to stop now ? let him take you over the edge, i think he deserves to hear your pretty lil moans for all his hard work. "
the man in between your legs, veritas, continued his ministrations, and the fact alone that this was veritas ratio in between your legs made your body tense up, the eroticism of the situation only heightening your pleasure, especially underneath his skilled tongue. gallagher was right, annoyingly, you were far too close to actually care who was in between your legs, as long as he was able to make you finish. " v-veri- ah, veritas.. " you moaned out shyly, his name falling from your lips both unfamiliar and yet comforting. " i'm gonna cum- please..! "
veritas didn't say anything, too busy coaxing your orgasm from you to properly address anything at the moment. now that their little secret was out, you could feel gallagher's hand on your chest, the digits slipping underneath your bra to fondle your chest, rolling your nipple in between his two fingers, eliciting noises from you with the added pleasure that you weren't even sure you could make. everything was adding together in such a way that you simply couldn't hold back anymore, the pressure in your body too much until your entire body shook from your orgasm ripping through you.
veritas' tongue didn't stop his assault on you, guiding you through your orgasm, your slick absolutely covering his face. you whimpered softly for him to stop after the sensitivity got to, wiggling your hips in attempt to push him away, which he finally did after he got a few more moments in between your legs.
finally able to think straight, you found yourself speaking up, your voice strained as you tried to regain your composure even slightly, but failing miserably. " i-i think- i think i deserve answers. why is veritas here ? "
" he wanted a taste, why else, doll ? " gallagher chuckled, his hand pulling away from your chest. " you should see him, all covered with your juices and panting. he damn near drowned in there and is still wanting more. " you were honestly a little frustrated that you couldn't see him like that, but that wasn't something you were going to say out loud.
" you're as... candid as ever, gallagher, " veritas finally spoke up, obviously out of breath, but trying to maintain himself. when he spoke again, it was directed to you, " did you not think i was aware of this little routine of yours with gallagher ? you're as foolish as you are naive. of course i would know what's going on in my own home. "
his thinly veiled insults were not lost on you, but you decided not to reply in a mean way and start an argument right now, especially when you were at the mercy of these two men. " how did you find it out then, genius ? "
" you two don't know how to properly dispose of condoms. i found at least four of them while trying to take out the trash because a certain man forgot it was his day to take it out, " you could practically feel the glare that veritas was shooting gallagher in between his words, and you couldn't stop yourself from chuckling a little bit at it. these two were so different, and always at each other's throats. but to be fair, you were often at their throats for one reason or another, too. at the end of the day, no matter how much sexual tension was shared between you, you were still roommates. and roommates are always frustrating, no matter the circumstances.
you were just roommates, right ?
" well my little.. mistake, shall we call it, got you in between the legs of the girl you wanted to fuck for a year now, so.. i think you can forgive me just this once, veritas, " gallagher snickered, clearly not one to be bullied down by veritas' condescension. but before you could say anything back to them to get them to stop bickering with one another, gallagher's arms picked you up into his arms, your locked hands hooking behind his head as he held you up against him, his hard cock rubbing up from behind you through his clothing. " and now we're gonna make her feel even better, cuz i can't wait to be inside this fuckin' pussy again. you had your turn, veritas. thanks for warmin' her up for me, now watch me do what i do best. "
you were dangling in the air, your feet unable to touch the ground, held up by gallagher's strong arms underneath your pits, keeping you completely suspended against him. you knew he was strong, but this was ungodly. you couldn't even feel his muscles straining, it was like it was effortless. he really did have the strength of a bear. was he really going to fuck you standing up, dangling in the air just like this ?
" ..tch, like hell i'm just going to watch. i'm not like you and get off watching others touch what's undeniably mine. " you could hear some movement, your breath hitching in your throat as you felt gallagher grinding against you, bucking his hips up in an attempt to rile you up more than you already were. " sit her down here- " you could hear veritas slapping his thighs, and you could only assume that he had taken his clothing off. " i think i know of a way that we can both enjoy what we want. "
after a moment, gallagher chuckled, his grip on you readjusting a little bit. " i like the way you think, veritas. but do you really think she can handle us both ? "
" i don't think she has a choice but to take it, does she ? "
gallagher finally sat you down, treating you almost like an actual doll, sitting you down on veritas' lap, making sure your legs were spread and straddling the other man's. you could feel the hardness pressing against your still slick cunt, practically begging for entry no matter how calm veritas' words were. " i don't think she's got any arguments, either, otherwise she would've said somethin', yeah ? "
that was his way of getting consent, no matter how slightly convoluted and slutty it sounded coming from his mouth, you knew that much. still, your pride refused to let you give out just a simple answer, still a little frustrated with them for this whole set up in the first place. if veritas wanted to fuck you, he could've just asked. it's not like you would've told the man no. " it's not like you're exactly giving me a choice, are you ? veritas said- "
before you could finish speaking, a hand grabbed you by the back of your head, pushing you down onto veritas' lips, effectively shutting you up. you could taste yourself on his lips from earlier, the salty and tangy taste on your tongue reminding you of his skills with his mouth. his tongue slipped past your lips, and you opened your mouth, slightly caught off guard but having enough time to pick yourself up. his hips grinded slowly into yours, making you both groan into the kiss. your hands, still connected together, rest on his chest, your ass arched up, giving gallagher the perfect view of what he wanted.
" finally, " veritas mumbled against your lips, sounding almost desperate, although he quickly composed himself, " a way to shut you up for good. "
" you just wanted to kiss her, " you felt the bed dip, and a pair of hands grabbed at your ass, fondling the fat in his hands. " but i get it, and i aint faultin' you for it. you just gotta learn how to be more truthful with whatcha want. "
you could tell that veritas absolutely hated that gallagher was controlling everything, but he was powerless to stop it at this time, and instead of fighting, he knew the path of least resistance would give him what he wanted in the end, he just had to bare through gallagher's mouth.
" now, can we get to the good part and fuck her already ? she's wet enough from earlier, she can take it, " his voice was snappy, letting everyone know that he was getting impatient and didn't want to wait any longer, one of gallagher's hands moved from your ass to grab his cock, pressing it against your slit, rubbing some of your slick on the tip before he slowly pushed in, needing to pace himself from absolutely plowing you on top of veritas. he had agreed to share you for now, so he wouldn't do that to veritas. at least not right now.
once he was fully sheathed inside, you gasped, moaning out, your body clenching around him like a vice, begging for more. you leaned your head back, resting it on veritas' shoulder, your locked hands grabbing at his bare chest for some type of support, although you couldn't find any. " g-gallagher..! " you mewled out, already feeling too full with just gallagher inside. there was no way that you were going to be able to fit veritas too- you'd be split in half, you'd-
one of veritas' hands stayed at the back of your head, and the other one snaked in between your legs, pressing his throbbing erection against your stuffed hole. " you can take it, " he grunted out, pushing just the tip in, finding the resistance of your body so irresistible. he wanted to actually ruin you, make you cry on his chest and beg for both of them to stop.
" i-it's too much..! i-i can't, there's no way ! it's gonna break me.. please, veritas- " you whimpered, your incessant babbling just fueling veritas on more. gallagher was clearly not pleased that you were calling out veritas' name instead of his, and decided to punish you with a particularly harsh thrust.
" you're lucky i'm bein' patient right now, bitch, " gallagher spat out, his fingertips digging into the skin of your hips. this was like a complete switch of the otherwise cool and calm gallagher that you knew, but you had to admit that you liked it a little more than you were willing to admit. but your body told against you, clenching around him at his lewd words, only spurring him on to degrade you more. " just fuckin' put it in so we can make this slut cry already, damn. there's no point in bein' gentle with her right now. she ain't gonna take it if you keep tryin' to be gentle. just force it in. "
you could practically feel the anger emanating from veritas, not needing your vision to know that he was absolutely fuming, and you were caught in between their little discourse. you were starting to think that this was less about fucking you and more about proving themselves to each other. " fine, mutt, have it your way, " veritas growled, his hand tightening on your hair, pulling it back so your head was back, giving him access to your neck. with one single thrust, he pushed himself completely inside, causing you to scream out in pure ecstasy.
hot tears bubbled up in your eyes, soaking the red silk fabric, and you felt yourself clawing at veritas' skin, making him groan out from both the pain and pleasure. it was too much, far too much, you were filled up completely, unable to take anymore, but they hadn't even started to move yet. the first movement came from gallagher, lazily rocking his hips in and out of you, clearly pleased with the tightness squeezing his cock. " fuck- she's so fuckin' tight, even more so than usual. "
veritas began to move next, each thrust calculated in time with gallagher so not to overwhelm you completely. you knew that this moment of peace was just temporary, however. now they got a taste, and they were not going to just go easy on you. gallagher broke it first, his hips thrusting up to meet yours so roughly that it took your breath away. veritas followed suit, not to be outdone with the older man.
" gal- veri- " you started, completely unsure which name to moan out, and fucked too stupid to truly be able to say anything coherent through your cries and whimpers of pleasure. both men laughed a little, both fighting to be the name that ultimately spilled out of your pretty lips.
veritas' free hand was in between your bodies, rubbing circles on your sore clit, knowing exactly how you liked it from earlier. you felt your entire body freeze, unable to do anything but cry, shaking as you were sandwiched in between both brutal men. veritas knew exactly what he was doing, he knew how to move inside to maximize your pleasure, his thrusts deep and forceful, while gallagher fucked like a wild animal, only really thinking about how good his cock felt when buried deep inside of you. this mix of logic and pure instinct drove you wild, tears soaking the fabric of the blindfold over your eyes as veritas' free hand pulling your hair, the pain dulled compared to the pure pleasure you were feeling.
it was absolutely brutal, and you could feel your belly bulging from the intrusion of both men inside of you. it was too good, and your head was swimming with only one thought: you had to cum, and soon. it was all beginning to be too much, your body tense and quivering. gallagher's body practically on top of yours at this point, his chest pressed against your back as he breathed in your ear, letting you hear every animalist growl that came from his throat, his little grunts of pleasure as he fucked you like he'd want to be buried inside of you forever.
" g-gonna..- gunna cum.. please, please- " you sobbed, your breath hitching in your throat, your body shaking from the pure overstimulation. veritas' fingers against your clit rubbed faster, and gallagher's hand found your throat, squeezing the sides.
" gonna cum on our cocks, doll ? " gallagher teased, his hips hitting yours with a fervor, " gonna make a mess on top of veritas ? on my bedsheets ? you look so small in between two men like this, huh ? filthy whore gonna lose herself on two cocks ? can't even think straight. he's your tutor, right ? go on, show him what you've learned from me. how to shut up and take dick like a good girl. "
you whimpered, your tongue lolled out, drool slipping from it onto veritas' chest below. " she looks so dumb, the blindfold is all wet from her tears like she can't do anything without crying. it's like all i taught her was for nothing when cock is involved. " veritas agreed, his voice hoarse as he fucked into you. the first time he'd agreed with gallagher this entire time and it was over how dumb you looked while getting fucked by both of them. when you didn't say anything back to either one of them, veritas chuckled a little bit, his eyes taking in your fucked out face. " what happened ? can't even think of anything to say ? too stupid to even remember how to speak properly ? "
" oh, fuck- i'm gonna cum- " gallagher announced, picking up speed and intensity, his teeth grazing against your neck and biting down harshly, making you cry out in pain. it wasn't enough to break the skin, but you could feel his extra sharp canine teeth embedding itself into your skin, surely going to at least bruise you. " gonna fill up this pretty little pussy, gonna make her ours. " at this point he wasn't even saying full sentences, just chasing his high. " mine, ours. yours. fuck. ours, ours. ours. pretty little thing is ours. "
" yours- " you sobbed out, your voice barely more than a whisper, too fucked out to even make noises more than whimpers and moans. your little voice seemed to spur gallagher into his orgasm, his hips stuttering into yours as his orgasm flooded you, covering your walls and veritas' cock with his semen.
" fu-fuck, that's too good, doll, your body is too good, " gallagher groaned, pulling out of you, finally letting go of your neck. he took notice of veritas still embedded within you, and mentally made note of it. " damn, he's still goin', huh ? when was the last time you had any pussy, veritas ? "
" this tight ? " veritas managed to choke out, his thrusting up into you with unabashed roughness now that he was the only one inside, able to fill you up to the hilt of his cock. " i'm gonna cum- and soon, there's no way i can hold back with her like this. can you take it, sweetheart ? can i fill you up too ? "
you nodded, feeling him go harder against you, all of the logic and coordination he had flying into the wind now that he was just seconds away from cumming. he didn't talk dirty like gallagher did, but you knew he was losing his cool, with the way his thrusts got more erratic and rushed, driving him over his own edge.
part of you was honestly grateful that it was done, the other part of you felt empty the moment veritas pulled out of you, the suddenness of no longer have either men filling you up causing you to whimper a little bit.
" aw, she wants us some more, " gallagher chuckled, and you rolled from on top of veritas, content just to sit beside him and rest for a little while. veritas was careful with you, reaching over and taking off the blindfold, being the first thing that you saw when you opened your wet, teary eyes, squinting because you needed to get used to the light again.
" you're so good, dearest, " veritas whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, taking your hands in his and undoing the handcuffs. you knew that they were the just the play handcuffs that you could've easily escaped from, not even needing a lock to undo them, but you also weren't exactly thinking about escaping from them at the time, too consumed with something else.
" thank ya, doll, " gallagher interjected, collapsing on your other side, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a few kisses onto your neck, slightly gentler where he had bitten you. " does it hurt ? "
you paused, your eyebrows creasing together. you couldn't help but be angry at him over this, and veritas for that fact. the sex was nice, but damn, can't a girl get a warning first ? " YES IT FUCKING HURT ?! YOU BIT ME ?? AND MR. RATIO HERE JUST SHOVED HIS FUCKING COCK IN ME WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD ??? " you chewed them both out over this, glaring at both of the men. veritas turned a little sheepish, although he wouldn't show it, while gallagher just gently laughed it off.
" you took it so well, though, dearest, " veritas hummed, turning to rest on his side so that he was face to face with you, his hand cupping the side of your cheek. he was surprisingly gentle, much more than gallagher was. " thank you for indulging the two of us. "
" well, i'll make sure we take care of you extra, now, alright ? to make up for it. " gallagher suggested, and you rolled your eyes, sitting your head on veritas' shoulder, closing your eyes.
" you guys are assholes. and i'm not doing the fuckin' dishes today, so you two fight among yourselves about it since you wanna argue during sex the entire time. like, geez. just admit that you wanted to out do each other and maybe kiss a little. "
" by the way, how did you fare on your physics exam ? " of course veritas would ask that when you had just managed to forget about your day at college.
" OH FUCK OFF, VERITAS. "
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pemiski · 2 months ago
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tags fem! reader, kaiser’s obvious daddy issues and the way they prevent him from stone skipping
I know I said I was going to take a break (reqs still open for bb drabbles 😇 btw) but this idea has been gnawing at me for a long time and it seems I have only just now realised I am a writer after all. With this somewhat gauche introduction I present to you: your dad ending up being Micha’s father figure! (Clapping, whistling!!)
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Getting your boyfriend out of the apartment had felt eerily similar to coaxing a suspicious cat out of its carrier at the vet: slow, and a whole lot of resistance (for a while, you’d even thought he would start hissing at you). Outside, the picnic blanket had barely touched the grass before your mum was already fussing over the corners, smoothing it down like a centerpiece. Your dad, on the other hand, was visibly wrist-deep in picnic baskets, already sorting out the food and cutlery.
They’d chosen a spot right by the lake, a quiet stretch of green that shimmered in the late afternoon sun. Michael’s grip on your hand had tightened the moment he had spotted them. He had technically met them before— brief glances and near-misses, all part of his very deliberate campaign to avoid any and all attempts at a formal introduction— although it seemed that today, his luck had finally run out.
Overall, Michael had lasted a grand total of twenty minutes on the blanket before he excused himself and wandered toward the lake, muttering something about needing to stretch his legs. You didn’t follow, figuring you’d let him breathe a little instead, but when your dad stands up a minute later and trails after him, you can’t help the way your back straightens slightly.
He joins Michael at the water’s edge with that quiet kind of presence he has, and to your surprise, your boyfriend doesn’t budge. Instead, they stand side by side in silence, both staring out at the glassy surface of the lake as if they were expecting something to rise from it.
Then your dad crouches down and picks up a stone.
“Used to spend hours out here doing this with your brother when you were little,” he calls back to you. Then, to Michael, “Ever skipped one?”
Michael shakes his head. “Tried. Once. Didn’t go well.”
Your dad just hummed, with no particular surprise nor disappointment tainting his voice. “Trick is not to throw hard. Most people think it’s about force, but really, it’s finesse.”
He selects a smoother stone, holds it up, then flicks his wrist. The rock spins out low and light across the water— skip, skip, skip, skip— until it finally drops beneath the surface.
Michael blinks. “That was four.”
“Five, if we’re counting the first kiss on the surface.” Your dad smiles, crouching down again, holding out a stone. “Here. Try.”
Michael hesitates— the doubt is written all over his face— but ultimately takes it.
He mimics the motion as best he can, but the stone flops down into the lake with a hollow plunk, and he looks vaguely embarrassed. One solid splash, no skip.
Still, your dad doesn’t laugh; doesn’t even grin. Just picks out another rock.
“Wrist lower. Aim for the far bank, not the water. Flick at the last second— like this.” He demonstrates again, slow enough for Michael to follow. Another skip. Clean and easy.
Michael tries again.
Plunk.
Your dad still doesn’t flinch, and just hands him another. “Takes a few tries,” he shrugs.
From the blanket, you see it— the careful way your dad speaks, the way he never corrects too much at once. The way he stands a little closer each time. How, after ten failed throws, Michael finally manages one solid skip.
The blonde doesn’t smile, but you see the flicker of satisfaction in his eyes nevertheless.
“Yeah, not bad, kid!” your dad exclaims, a grin forming on his face. “You’ll get three by the end of the day.”
Michael looks over at him. “Yeah?”
Your dad nodds, already tossing him another stone. “Yeah.”
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@pemiski 2025 - all rights reserved. I do not authorize any reposting translating or modifying of my content on any platform
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whimsyfinny · 10 months ago
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Fix Your Attitude
Dean Winchester x F!Reader
Summary: (Y/n) is just like an other woman trying to function in this fucked up world - and she's starts her day with coffee. At least that was always the plan until Dean interfered.
Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, slightly Dom! Dean, and if you squint there's maybe possessive/jealous Dean
MDNI! 18+
Word Count: 4470
A/N: So this is technically my first ever one shot! Woop! I've written this as part of my competition from a few weeks back, and this is for the wonderful winner @spookyysinsanity ! Hope you enjoyyy.
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“Seriously, Dean? What the actual fuck!?” The audacity of the older Winchester brother had me throwing my hands up in frustration, my irritable tone bouncing off the walls in the kitchen and landing on ears that couldn’t possibly care any less.
“Should’ve got here sooner, sweetheart. You know how it is; first come first serve,” he tauntingly raised his coffee mug to my dishevelled figure standing over the empty coffee pot. The lack of caffeinated bean-water had brought a panic-sweat to my temples, knowing all too well how things would pan out if I didn’t get what I needed.
“How many cups have you had?”
“What?” He blinked frustratingly slowly - he knew what I’d asked.
“Jerk - I said ‘how many cups have you had’?”
“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger against the side of the mug, lips pursing over feigned thoughts.
“DEAN.”
“Maybe… three?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly - although the nonchalant bubble popped when a sly smirk slipped through the cracks. My mouth opened and closed a few times, words forming and disappearing too rapidly through my mind to even make it past my lips as desperation sizzled into rage.
“You DICK!”
“Hey don’t yell at me - just make another pot,” he held his hands up defensively.
My eyes flitted over to the empty tin on the side - an empty tin left tauntingly in plain sight.
“You know damn well I can’t do that! We’re out of coffee, totally out. Zilch. Nothing. Empty.”
“Well,” he lifted his mug to his lips, “not totally empty.”
“What do you- oh…OH,” I felt my razor sharp glare zero in on the mug at his lips - there had to be at least half a cup in there with how little he had to tilt it up before taking a gulp. I took a step forward and jabbed my finger towards the prize.
“Give me that.”
He offered me nothing but raised eyebrows and a loud slurp.
“Dean.”
Again, silence only echoed back, however my frustration towards him started to buzz in my head as he slowly lowered the mug to unveil a slap-worthy grin.
“DEAN.”
He gently placed the mug on the table and turned to me, large arms crossing over his broad chest as he settled in his chair, thighs spreading wide for comfort.
“Wow, I thought I was grouchy in the mornings before coffee but damn, sweetheart you’re really claiming first place with that one.”
I took a step closer, my eyes practically burning a hole in the cup next to him on the table. His grin widened as he noticed me stalking forwards, like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. However my prey was incredibly suspecting and, in all honesty, not really prey at all. My bare feet padded quietly towards him, each tentative step raising more suspicion in Dean as my desperation for caffeine became all-consuming and my honed hunting skills became sloppy. I gave myself away when I tore my gaze from the mug and glanced over at Dean, catching his amused smirk and playful eyes before I lunged forward, hands grasping at air where the liquid-treasure should have been. Spinning on my heel after almost colliding with the table I turned to face Dean, now standing a few steps behind me with one hand wrapped around the ceramic and the other dipping lazily into the pocket of his jeans.
“Come on darlin’ you’re better than that.”
“Fuck you.”
A low whistle floated in the air between us before he tutted at me, shaking his head slowly.
“So mean.”
“Says you!”
“Hey I got here first - I'm the victim here. You're the one trying to rob me.”
“Don't play that game - you are not the victim here. All of your bullshit has been calculated,” I narrowed my eyes up at him as he traced his tongue over his bottom lip.
“Maybe it has been. Not much you can do about it now though is there?” His eyes glinted like the tricksters before he took another gulp of his coffee. I could feel my palms growing sweaty in apprehension, knowing all too well that the coffee level was dropping inside that cup.
Time to try a different approach. Something more… tactical.
“You know…” I pulled a lock of hair between my fingers, twirling it around, “you're my favourite Winchester.”
I paused and he raised his eyebrows, suspecting yet silently urging for more.
“Sam is just so nice and tall but…” I quietly stepped towards him, inwardly cheering when he made no attempt to move away.
“But?”
“But I mean look at you, so ruggedly handsome… and with that authentic ‘tough guy’ personality to make all the ladies swoon. And don't even get me started on these broad shoulders and big arms of yours…” I padded around him, tracing a single finger delicately up one arm, over the back of his shoulders and down the other arm. I almost missed the small shiver that ghosted over his skin and raised the hairs on his exposed forearms.
“Oh, so you like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice subtly dropping to a deeper tone.
I chewed my bottom lip slightly before stopping in front of him, a hair's breadth away. From here I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne - the same one I'd only ever known him to wear - and the subtle, intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder. Combined, those three items were the very essence of Dean, the warmth of it all clinging to his clothes and practically seeping from his pores. I couldn't stop myself from taking a deep breath and letting the hypnotic scent travel straight to my brain. He’d always smelt divine, but I was never going to give him the satisfactory access to that information.
Upon tilting my head up to lock eyes with him, I could feel his coffee-scented breath fan over my face, the smell of what I wanted most almost making my mouth water. I couldn't let myself become enveloped in the addictive haze around him - I needed to remember what I was here for without letting myself become distracted.
Evergreen eyes flitted between mine, unsure of my next move. But the more I looked into them, the more dilated his pupils became. I couldn't help but grin a little to myself, relishing in his reaction.
“Come on Dean, just hand over the coffee. I know deep down that you really want to…”
He hummed, the sound a little gravelly as it emanated from his chest.
“You see sweetheart,” he smirked a little as he gripped the mug, lifting it to his lips. The action immediately caused me to take an urgent step forwards, a part of me truly believing that he would drain the cup right there and then. He must've seen the panic jolt through me as he released a small, breathy laugh.
“I see what?”
“You see… I don't think it's coffee that you need to stop being such a bitch in the morning.”
My eyes immediately narrowed towards him at his choice of words. He can make it so easy to look past his good looks when he acts like such an ass.
“What the actual fuck does that mean?”
“Oh I think you know what it means.”
“Fuck you, Dean.”
“If you want.”
“Go to- wait what?” I felt my heart leap in my chest, my mind unsure if I wanted to have heard him correctly.
His smirk spread across his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his mossy green gaze dragging over my figure as though I were totally naked.
“You heard me,” he took a step forward, his boots heavy on the hard kitchen floor. My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from whatever scandalous thoughts of him I'd pushed to the back of my mind that I never intended to humour, or the rage bubbling to the surface at the sheer audacity from him, thinking I'd just accept this sort of shitty attitude.
“You’re crazy if you think that I’d let you in my pants,” the bewilderment in my voice was evident, and so was the growing frustration. This conversation had taken a wild turn and it’s safe to say that I didn’t like the direction it was headed. It was a rocky path of buried desires and a cocky male ego - a male ego that somehow knew what buttons to press to get my temper sizzling.
“Oh but sweetheart I could make it so good…” his voice was like caramel, becoming harder to ignore as he took another step forward, backing me into the table. I swallowed the almost nervous lump that had started to form in my throat, my heart rate quickening with every second he looked at me with those darkening eyes.
“And why would you want to do that?” I did well at hiding the slight nervous wobble in my voice. He chuckled slightly before breaking eye contact and looking down at his boots, thinking for a moment before shooting his eyes back to me, his intense gaze burning into mine.
“Because for once, I’d love to see that smart mouth of yours moan my name.”
I couldn’t stop that small gasp that escaped between my parted lips at his sudden bold statement, and that small gasp seemed to be all that it took to invite Dean in. In one fluid movement he drained the remainder of the coffee into his mouth and took a final step forward, closing the gap between us and wrapped a single strong arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. His other hand quickly discarded the mug before grasping my face, his thumb pushing into my cheek and urging me to open my mouth. Before I was able to conjure a single thought he’d pulled my mouth to his, his plush lips covering mine before transferring that mouthful of coffee over to me. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of warm liquid gliding over my tongue, the flavour of coffee, sweetened with sugar, would have soothed my senses if it wasn’t for the way it was administered. I hurriedly swallowed it down, not caring for the trickle that escaped the corner of my lips, now more preoccupied with Dean Winchesters mouth pressing onto mine. He allowed one… two… three heated kisses before pulling away, leaving me gasping and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. As he pulled away, he released his grip on my jaw, spotting the trickle of coffee and catching the droplets with his thumb. I didn’t intend to dwell on the action too much, at least not until he pushed his coffee-coated thumb past my lips and into my mouth, pressing lightly on my tongue. Still taken aback by the kiss, I stared up at him dumbly, my mind simultaneously racing whilst emptying itself of all logical thoughts. On instinct, I licked the coffee from his thumb, hearing a gruff hum of approval from him.
“Look at you - quiet for once.”
Before I could retaliate to his comment he pulled his thumb from my mouth and grasped my jaw again, a little softer this time as he guided my face to his. His lips grazed mine as he spoke.
“Have you finished acting like a bitch?”
I nodded.
“Are you sure? Because I think I should fuck you on this table here - just to be sure.”
The involuntary shiver that shimmied down my spine gave my innermost thoughts away when Dean noticed it; another smirk gracing his lips as he pulled himself between my knees and grasped under my thighs to lift me onto the table. I hissed slightly as the cold surface bit at my bare rear, the oversized Metallica t-shirt doing nothing to shield me as it rode up on my hips. There was a short moment, like a breath taken and held as we paused to look at each other. His eyes darkened like a forest at dusk, piercing into my own before studying my lips. I found myself doing the same to him, watching how his gaze darted up and down, frantic to find a focal point on my face whilst his lips parted, tongue poking out to wet them. We shared each other's hot coffee-scented breath, my heartbeat starting to echo in my ears as my blood began to run hot at the thought of him taking me right here on this table. He chewed slightly on his bottom lip, the fantasies of my own prurient mind running rampant at what that mouth was capable of doing to me. What I undeniably wanted it to do to me. Before another thought appeared he hastily leaned in and planted a searing kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling my ear whilst one large, strong hand planted itself just below my shoulder blades; his whole arm crushing me against him. Everything he did made me want to purr. His lips exceeded expectations as he kissed red-hot paths up and down my neck; my skin prickling when he pressed his lips below my ear and jaw, pulling pathetic whimpers from my lungs. He kneaded the silky-soft flesh of my thigh with his other hand, eventually causing me to gently hook my legs around him to ease the desperate need to writhe at his every touch.
“Dean…” his name left my lips as an airy gasp when the hand on my thigh travelled up, his thumb hooking under the waistband of my panties.
“What happened to that big, tough girl persona? Can’t really take it huh?” His taunting words went straight to my brain when he spoke them with his lips pressed right to my ear.
“Fuck, Dean… I hate you.”
He chuckled, placing a kiss on my cheek before uttering over my lips:
“Of course you do, sweetheart.”
As his sentence ceased as his mouth claimed mine, muffling the moan bubbling in my throat as his tongue pushed against my own. I reached one hand up to tug on his hair, dragging my nails across his scalp when the strands at the base of his skull were too short to grasp. He groaned into the kiss, lips moving faster at the sensation of my fingertips. His broad chest became a resting spot for my other hand, the taught muscle flexing beneath soft skin as I glided my delicate fingers up to clutch his shoulder. It was like being in a trance; the only thing I was capable of thinking about was him. Dean. The strength of his hand on my back contrasting the tenderness of the one on my thigh. The heat of his mouth, his tongue on mine, consuming my gasps and ragged breaths. His devouring reduced me to naught but lustful putty in his arms, especially when an assured hand slid from my hip to my ribs and a gentle thumb smoothed over the softness of the underside of my breast. The feather-light touch caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin, the warmth of his palm doing nothing to soothe them away. When a groan passed my lips at his actions, he gripped tighter, my legs instinctively pulling him closer. This time it was Dean that groaned, as pulling him towards me had pressed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans against the soft cotton of my panties. The sensation was electric, igniting the fiery ache between my legs as my thighs twitched when he didn't pull away - instead pushing himself against me harder. I sucked in a breath where I could, his lips refusing to leave mine, even to let me breathe. He was hungry. Animalistic. Dominating. I don't know what I'd been imagining when I was alone in my room in the depths of night, but this… this was something I'd never fantasised about. How commanding he was, how he pulled me in with stern words and an air of authority. Gone was the boyish charm and playful pickup lines - this was something that could easily suck me in and pull me under. He could drown me in sharp comments and tantalising games.
And I would let him.
“Look at you, twitching like a virgin,” he pulled away enough to huskily speak against the corner of my mouth. I moaned slightly, biting my lip when his thumb moved from the underside of my breast to my nipple, delicately toying with the perky skin.
“Who's to say I'm not?” My voice was more breathy than I'd anticipated, my head lolling back when he started to trail kisses down my neck again. My comment pulled a laugh from his chest, the sound almost cutting through the sexual haze.
“Oh darlin’, don't think I don't know about your motel room escapades - I was always in the room next to yours,” he finally pulled back slightly to look at me, the cool air flooding between us in his absence. As my eyes met his, my heart hammered in my chest at the raw blackness of his irises - pupils blown wide with hot arousal and leaving no soft greens in sight. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, realisation creeping in. Dean took it all in with a grin on his lips.
“That's right sweetheart - I heard it all. Every little noise you made when those jerk-offs touched you. When they tried to make you feel good,” his smile faltered slightly before he leaned in a little closer, “but you know, I never heard any of them make you cum. I only ever heard you finish when they were gone and you were all alone.”
He pressed more of those red-hot kisses just below my jaw, the hand on my breast descending, trailing a path down the soft skin of my abdomen before disappearing down the front of my panties. A moan tore from my throat when he slid his skilled fingers through my folds to gather my pooling wetness, his hum of approval ringing in my ears when my mind emptied at his fingers tracing circles around my clit. My grip on him was vice-like, whimpers already tumbling off my tongue.
“You know (Y/n), you should've just come to me. You should've told those useless bastards to fuck off and let me do everything you needed me to do,” his breath was hot against my neck as he spoke, and he finished his sentence off by finally pressing a rough finger against my clit. I whined like a bitch in heat as he went around and around and around, making me clench around nothing and crave him in his entirety.
“I would've done this to you every night - made you forget everything but my name.”
“Dean…”
“Thas’right sweetheart. Never would've left you unsatisfied.”
“Please, Dean… please… I need you to fuck me,” my words were desperate and I could tell he relished in that, suddenly plunging two thick digits inside me without so much as a word. My hands flew to his back, nails digging into broad muscle as I leaned into him, burying my flushed face into his neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent. He curled his fingers up and pushed against the pleasure-cushion inside me, knowing exactly what to look for and what to do with it. My legs tightened even more around him as I was unable to stop the euphoric twitches jolting through my limbs. He removed his hand that was pressed below my shoulder blades and lifted it to my hair, unclipping the claw-grip to let the unruliness tumble out. He practically chucked the plastic clip to the table before threading his fingers through my hair, grasping close to my scalp before tugging my head back to make me look at him.
“Now that you've dropped your attitude and asked nicely, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.”
He pressed his fingers inside me one final time, drawing another pathetic whimper from my lips before pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. I watched, mouth agape and breaths ragged as he licked my slick from his digits, savouring the taste of me with a satisfied groan.
“That’s the best shit I’ve ever tasted,” his deep, gravelly tone had me reaching desperately for his belt buckle as Dean claimed my mouth again, his own eagerness starting to show. As I finished unzipping his jeans I pushed them down his hips just enough to dip my hand into his boxers and pull his cock free. A deep moan pushed its way into my mouth as I curled my fingers around his length, his size already intimidating as his cock rested hot and heavy in my palm. I wasted no time on gripping him tight, starting gentle motions going up and down again, and again, and again, causing Dean to move both hands to my thighs - his grip on me threatening to leave bruises. I dragged my thumb over his tip, urging a blissful shudder to surge through him as I smeared the gathering precum up and down his length. His lips never once left mine. I could feel him becoming breathless as I slowly increased the speed of my hand, so I caught his bottom lip between my teeth as a means to pull away for a moment. As I breathed in his contented groan, I pulled back slightly further to get a look at his face.
“Dean… Dean please - I need you inside me-”
“Stop fucking around then and c’mere.”
I squeaked a little at his harsh tone, unable to stop the next words from tumbling out.
“Yessir.”
I watched his brows knit together and his eyes almost roll before he dropped his head to my neck, grabbing the underside of my thighs and dragging me right to the edge of the table. With one hand he grabbed his cock and used it to move my underwear to one side before lining up and sinking in. The lascivious moans that spilled from our lips were almost harmonious, Dean pushing in to the hilt and forcing me to wrap one arm around his neck and the other to prop me up behind me - both stopping me from losing my balance under Deans intensity. Dean looked as though he was getting lost in a sexual haze as he crushed me against him again with one arm, having the decency to remain still for a few moments so I could adjust to his size as he eye-wateringly stretched out my insides - the sensation almost burning.
“Jesus- fuck-” his breath was slightly strained as he groaned into my neck, “now I’m mad that you decided to fuck lonely jerk-offs instead of me - with a pussy like this- shit- I would’ve been crawling back for more.”
He started to move slowly, pulling out gently before slipping back in - easing me into it with sexual expertise.
“Oh fuck- Dean- you don’t mean that-”
“(Y/n) you’d have to shoot me to stop me - you feel too fucking good.”
He started to up the tension - dropping every ounce of softness as he lost control of that part of him. He fucked the same way that he hunted monsters: raw, skilful and always in control - my mind racing with the knowledge of how dangerous this man actually was. He was Dean fucking Winchester, and here he was - fucking me over the breakfast table whilst I wore nothing but a band t-shirt. As he pounded into me and the intensity grew I was unable to stop the lewd noises tumbling from my lips. Such lewd noises however seemed to spur Dean on, the power of his thighs and hips inching the heavy wooden table across the floor.
“How are you still so fucking tight-” his words were almost slurred, his sexually inebriated mind seemingly becoming obsessed.
“Shit- Dean, I’m getting close already,” my eyes squeezed shut as I began to feel that familiar knot in the depths of my core. With every thrust he dragged over every over-sensitive nerve ending, unravelling me quicker than I’d even been unravelled before.
“Oh yeah? You wanna cum?”
I nodded my head vigorously, loose strands of hair falling around my face as tears started to well in my eyes. Dean glanced down at me without so much as a stutter in his hips, a slight grin playing on his lips even in a moment like this.
“Tears?”
“Fuck-fuck- you Dean, it's not my f-fault you're the first one to fuck me properly- oh God-”
“Well I'm glad it was me sweetheart,” he tried to keep up the slightly playful tone but I could see in his eyes that he was on the brink as well. Without another word he moved one hand to push lightly on my lower belly, his thumb dipping down to rub soft circles over that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the contact, Dean taking the opportunity to plant uncharacteristically soft kisses on my parted lips before whispering:
“I need you to cum for me - I need you to let go. I've got you darlin’.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The circles drawn with his thumb increased in speed and as did the pounding of his hips against mine.
“Dean- Dean please-”
I could feel him winding that knot tighter, and tighter, and tighter; lifting the euphoria coursing through my veins to its highest peak before the white-hot heat of orgasmic bliss erupted inside me. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure cascaded down, drowning me in the most earth shattering climax I'd ever experienced. I could feel myself tightening repeatedly around Dean, his thrusts becoming frantic before his own release rolled through him.
“Oh Fuck- (Y/n)-”
His guttural groan into the crook of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin, the sound of him cumming making me clench even tighter around him.
“You squeeze me any tighter darlin’ and you're gonna kill me,”
“I-I’m not- I mean- I'm sorry?”
He groaned again when I twitched slightly, this time he pulled back to look me in the eye, taking note of the drying tear-tracks and smudged mascara.
“You good?”
“Y-yeah, I'm good,” I huffed out a deep, contented sigh, "I am so, so good.”
He grinned, the assertiveness from earlier seeming to dissipate and the good ‘ol Dean was returning.
“Best you've ever had?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.
I playfully slapped his shoulder, not impacting the smirk on his lips whatsoever.
“Easy there cowboy - if your ego gets any bigger there'll be no living with you.”
“You didn't answer my question.”
I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, making him wait a little for the answer before I replied with a grin of my own.
“Yeah, definitely the best I've ever had.”
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Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200
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felibrary · 4 months ago
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BACK TO FRIENDS
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PAIRING: rin itoshi x reader (gender neutral)
SYNOPSIS: when rin itoshi doesn't answer your texts, yoichi isagi has the brilliant plan to invite him over and let you guys make up—but will it work out?
wordcount: 866 | content & warnings: sloppily written, no beta read we die like deadchi, rin is the goat at communicating (jokes for obvious reasons), wingman!isagi, light angst if you squint; drabble
author's note: yeah first fic out of the psych ward yall lol
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“did he text you back yet?”
isagi who’s sitting in front of you impatiently taps his fingers against the material of the cafe desk. after a second or two pass, without hearing a response, isagi speaks up once more. this time louder and more irritated. “has mr. rin itoshi answered your texts yet?” 
as you look up and survey isagi’s face you can tell that he’s not very pleased—it’s apparent from the way he purses his lips before taking a long sip from his drink. “well,” you start off with hopelessness evident in your voice. “is it colder at night than outside?” your eyes wander from your open chat with rin to isagi.
“has rin messed with your brain that you started speaking in riddles?” isagi sneers as he twirls the drink in his glass around. upon his response you can’t help but chuckle a bit yourself. “shut up yoichi.” 
“so, is that a yes?”
“he obviously didn’t answer. opted to avoid me as usual.”
it’s all thanks to isagi that you got to meet rin and technically also why you’re stuck in this situation—he was the one who set the two of you up. it was after the u-20 match when you jokingly remarked to yoichi that rin was not only the better striker but also the better looking one among the two of them. 
of course, he didn't take any offense but his look of disbelief and somewhat disgust was a funny sight. from there on isagi and the other’s from the u-20 team (because apparently secrets between childhood best friends have to be told to the whole team now) started teasing you about it.
after gathering a bit of courage you started to approach rin and even when it took him a while to open up to you, it somehow worked. rin was busy for the most part of the day so when it came to talking he usually replied to your texts in the evening after football practice. 
over the course of a few weeks you eventually grew closer. having found similar interests and dislikes you can bond over and share your opinion on. admittedly, maybe you were too expectant that things would work out but from how things were developing you thought rin was enjoying it too. 
holding hands in the cinema while rin brushed his thumb over yours, having his head on your lap and softly scratching your fingers through his black hair and rin being more open and communicative with you, confessing that you became part of his routine—those were all things which made you get your hopes up. 
but perhaps, you were wrong and instead were rushing things.
although he’s not actively avoiding you, his replies are curt and you can sense that rin has distanced himself from you—but you’re unsure why. thus isagi’s constant asking of when or well, if rin has answered you.
“i seriously have no clue what i could’ve possibly done for rin to avoid me now.” you express frustratedly, slumping in your seat. “i wish i could help you better, but i’m not rin.” isagi says in an attempt to cheer you up. “yeah. still, thanks yoichi.”
suddenly isagi’s phone dings, his eyes light up, and isagi fiddles with the pocket of his pants before pulling his phone out, immediately huffing as he reads the newly received notification. there’s a faint smile gracing isagi’s lips and you’re not sure if you should be scared or not. 
“yoichi..why are you smiling so weirdly?” you ask carefully. “oh, it’s nothing. rin just texted me that he’s here, which means i’ll take my leave. my job is done here.” isagi hurriedly stands up and grabs his jacket which he draped over the back of the chair before storming out and yelling. “you can thank me later.” 
as one guy with black hair leaves, another enters, none other than rin. you lock eyes and stare at him intently, watching what he’s about to do. to your surprise, rin doesn’t seem in the slightest bit caught off guard and joins you at your desk.
“isagi said you wanted to talk to me. what is it?” that was certainly not what you were expecting to hear. “isagi invited you here? saying that i want to talk to you?” you repeat, in hopes of not misunderstanding what rin has said. 
he nods in acknowledgment. “did he set this up? if yeah, i’ll just go.” rin already attempts to stand up to take his leave but you stop him. “he didn’t lie. i mean i did want to talk to you but you never replied to the texts i sent you,” rin’s cerulean eyes slightly widen at the mention. “the messages, i mean.” you add abruptly.
“i’m aware.” at his response, you can feel your gut churning. “you’re aware? and you didn't bother to respond?” it’s small but you can see the glimmer of uneasiness swimming in rin’s eyes. after a long pause, rin finally responds, although you’re not sure whether you would’ve rather taken his silence. 
“i’m sorry, but i don’t think i can provide you with the stuff you need. i think we’d be better off as friends.”
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end note: sorry you guys but if i can't be happy yall cant be either LMFAO
© FELIBRARY 2025. stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms or feeding them to ai is not permitted.
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cerusee · 6 months ago
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I've never watched any Chinese dramas but I really enjoy your posts/gifs about them and it's got me interested in trying some! Do you have any recommendations for somebody who's totally new to them? Any tropes/background context I should be aware of? The historical/fantastical ones seem the most appealing to me.
Oooooh! My first thought on reading this ask was, “oh, I’m hardly qualified”; I’m only on my *stops to count on fingers* eighth cdrama, not counting the one episode I watched of the Wang Zhuocheng xianxia where he falls in love with a rock. (Long story.) There’s a lot of cdramas out there, and I myself have not even scratched the surface of what’s out there! That said, if you’re interested in historical/fantastical dramas, those ARE the ones I’ve been watching, so I still have some opinions despite being a total noob myself.
Do not start with The Untamed/Chen Qing Ling. Twas my first cdrama, like a lot of western fans, who were drawn to it in part because of the big censored-but-still-very-evident gay love story between the male leads, but honestly, as much fun as it is for the slash fans, it’s not a great jumping off point for either Chinese television in general, or even for its own wuxia-inspired genre setting. I say this as some who is still deep in the fandom four years later, and has immense love for the show: the first two episodes are flat-out bad, the overall pacing is bad (episodes frequently stop MIDSCENE), the worldbuilding is thin (a carryover from the novel it was based on), and without a larger context for why it’s made the way it’s made (stylistic choices, industry conventions, government censorship, genre conventions) a lot about it is confusing as hell to cdrama newbies, which is…so evident…a lot…in fandom wank I mean in the discourse about what story this story is trying to tell. Like, if you came to me and asked specifically, “I’m thinking of watching CQL. Should I watch CQL?” I would say yes, absolutely! It’s so much fun! I’m obsessed with the characters! I’ve written a lot of fanfic about the purple guy! But it’s not a good first cdrama, nor it is the best example of what the Chinese TV industry has to offer.
A MUCH better first cdrama especially if you like the historical/fantastical: The Legend of the Condor Heroes (2017), which not coincidentally was my second cdrama. It’s one of about a dozen television adaptations of the classic 1957 Chinese novel of the same name by Jin Yong, generally considered to be the inventor of the genre known as wuxia, which is a blend of history, fantasy, and martial arts. (One of the most well-known examples of wuxia in the west is Ang Lee’s Oscar-winning 2000 film Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, which you have probably at least heard of.)
Legend of the Condor Heroes (hereafter known as LOCH) has it all: romance, revenge, evil plots and daring deeds, people jumping off a burning mountain and being rescued by the worst CGIed eagles known to television or cinema, boat adventures, mountain adventures, grasslands adventures, a weird cult leader who lives on a spooky flower island (there will be math), murder, baby kidnapping, more murder, one guy inadvertently racking up a ridiculous number of martial arts teachers, sworn brotherhoods which invariably end with one guy stabbing the other, lots of VERY good martial arts fights, and, of course, Genghis Khan. Technically there are no magic/supernatural elements in this show—no ghosts, ghouls, magic, angels, devils, gods, etc—although the martial artists do have l33t skillz that might qualify as superhuman depending on how you slice your genre conventions, and are awfully fun to watch.
I’ve actually seen two LOCH adaptations (there was one in 2024 I liked a lot, with my favorite Guo Jing so far), but 2017 is a much better adaptation for newcomers as it tells a fuller version of the story and doesn’t skimp on or rush through or rewrite as many elements of the plot as other versions do; it’s meant to be a LOCH for people who haven’t seen half a dozen versions of LOCH already. It has a WONDERFUL cast, including my one of my favorite cdrama leading men, Chen Xingxu,* as the lead antagonist, Yang Kang, who is a trash fire of a person you just can’t root for, but he also can’t help it because he was raised by Wanyin Honglie. You can catch it on YouTube (I recall that there are couple of missing episodes from that playlist, but you can search on YT for those when you get there, to find them subtitled from other channels.)
*If you, like me, come away from LOCH 2017 with your mouth slightly ajar at how great CXX is, I have wonderful news for you! He’s been a lead in at least two other very good cdramas: the 2023 xianxia** The Starry Love, where he gets to play, like, five different characters (huge acting flex, and he’s great, although I would rush to stress I loved a ton of things about this show besides CXX himself), and the 2019 semi-historical drama Goodbye My Princess, which might actually be my favorite cdrama I have seen to date, and arguably THEE best well-made on a technical level, with phenomenal acting, a great script, and editing and directing I am constantly swooning over, but I am not entirely sure I can recommend to you unless you are a Tragedy Enjoyer.
(If you are a Tragedy Enjoyer, please stop whatever you’re doing and just start watching Goodbye My Princess right now, it is phenomenal. It is also available on YouTube. Watch the Director’s Cut, not the regular one! This is important. In its haste to get the main leads on screen together ASAP, the regular version does a Reader’s Digest version of stuff the Director’s Cut spends like five episodes carefully setting up, and it doesn’t make a lot of sense, nor does it flow well.)
**Speaking of xianxia! Xianxia is the high fantasy genre, full of magic and gods and demons and people dying and living multiple lives and whatnot. Important to note: xianxias are soap operas (complimentary). They tend to feature female protagonists, sweeping, epic romances, and put enormous emphasis on exploring the nuances of relationships and emotions. I have watched three that I loved (Love Between Fairy and Devil, The Starry Love, and Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms), and while technically I could recommend all three, if you were going to watch just one, especially as a cdrama intro, I have to recommend Eternal Love, which really is the quintessential xianxia, the one all other xianxias are kind of shaping themselves around. I have watched it 1.5 times and I can say that it does not properly take off until like, episode 10, or whenever it is that the main couple finally, properly meet. IT IS WORTH THE INVESTMENT. This show made me want to spit blood. I cried multiple times watching it. It made me feel things. It has a wonderful immersive quality that’s hard to describe except to say that the entire show sort of vibrates on its own frequency. The casting is just kind of…perfect? Props to Maggie Huang for portraying the most perfectly hatable xianxia villainess of all time. Absolutely no one is doing it like Su Jin. No one should try. I believe this is available on YouTube, but after an abortive start, I realized it was on US Netflix, and watched it there.
As for tropes and background context: ehhhhhh. I mean, it’s an entire industry? I know substantially less about how it functions than I do about, like, American TV and film. I know government censorship is a not-inconsiderable factor, but I don’t know much of the nuance of how that plays out in terms of filming and airing. Tropes will vary according to subject. Idol dramas (shows built to showcase media personalities regardless of their ability to act) are a thing. Most cdrama audio is still dubbed (this one surprised me!), usually by professional voice actors and not by the original cast, for a confluence of reasons, some of which historically make sense (noisy filming lots rendering original audio useless), and some of which are really stupid (fans throwing hissy fits if lead actors don’t have the “right” kinds of voices for their characters).
Anyway! My recommendations are this: try The Legend of the Condor Heroes (2017) to start with, UNLESS you would prefer having your heart ripped out of your chest, in which case watch Goodbye My Princess (Director’s Cut, 2019), or UNLESS you love soap operas as much as I do, in which case watch Eternal Love: Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms (2017). All three are great shows, but they all hit differently/scratch a different itch.
Oh! Lastly! @dangermousie is a great source of cdrama recs. I should note she prefers dramas and tragedies and mostly does not vibe with xianxias. But she watches like eight million hours of dramas a week and reports her findings to us because she is a river to her people.
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kiwianacat · 3 months ago
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My ADHD riddled brain is rreeally driving me to do anything other than catch up on important deadlines right now, so here's not one but two family trees for my increasingly convoluted, vauglely medieval set Warriors au.
The first tree shows all of Crookedstar and Oakheart's descendants (excluding Storm and Reed's eventual families), while the second would be a more "in-universe" tree, that shows the four most recent stewards of River's Kingdom and their closest adult relatives. There'll be a couple errors here to ignore; I've already spotted that I forgot to fix Reedwhisker's name.
I chopped and pasted together a few different families for the sake of fun succession dramas. I've also written a ramble about succession and family history because whyy nott.
Succession: 
In the four kingdoms things like “bloodlines”or “birthrights”are considered to be of great importance and you cannot be adopted into a given bloodline. ((*this isn’t a concept I agree with, but is standard in medieval settings and would be actively challenged within the au)) These laws are also mostly only applicable to the higher classes of noble families. Families of common-born folk (such as Firestar’s birth family) are “nameless”having no surname, house or lands to pass on.
I’m trying to make the rules of inheritance/succession in this au dependent mainly on birth order regardless of gender which would've been typical in most medieval settings. This makes things slightly convoluted, but bear with me lmao. 
Across all four kingdoms it’s standard for the first born to inherit/pass on the titles of their house while the second born adopts the titles of whomever they marry and cannot inherit a lordship. The third and further born can only pass on titles if they marry someone of a “lesser”family, or with a weaker connection to their bloodline (such as being second born or later in the birth order). However if the first or second born dies they instead adopt their responsibilities meaning they can potentially become heirs/lords, unlike second borns. It’s typically preferred to have at least three children for this reason; with two there’s a greater risk of the house’s name dying.
Having a child out of wedlock is incredibly taboo and in certain contexts (largely depending on the current ruler) can result in exile, forfeiting all names and titles. It’s not technically illegal to have a relationship across kingdom borders; but these relationships will very rarely be ordained by a legitimate priest/cleric, especially in times of conflict. Children can be born through surrogacy in the case of same-sex marriage, but the surrogate must be from the same house as the second parent for them to have inheritance rights (although there are ways to hide illegitimate children under this rule)
House Chell
Stewards and Heirs of the King River Chell
River’s Kingdom considers the River Chell to be their rightful king, possessing the spirit of King Riverstar and his “truest” descendants act only as his stewards to carry out his will. Stewards (or Highlords as they are titled) essentially have the same rights and rulings as the kings of the other three kingdoms however. They also still wear crowns, because I like to draw them (although they would not inherit the original founder's crown as the other rulers typically do, instead having unique crowns per ruler)
Typically Highlord’s will choose their own heirs, ideally their firstborns as they can pass on their titles (the “strongest”line of succession always follows the first born), however they can also choose from any descendant that inherits the Chell name. If they die without naming a successor it’s the duty of the lords to decide the next Highlord communally from this pool of descendants.
In this au Misty, Stone and Moss are bio kits of CrookedBlue, raised by GreyOak. Crookedstar named them Stonepath and Mistywood in reference to his past meetings with Bluefur, hidden in the woods near the Sunningrock Ruins.
(this also changes Stormfur's name to Stormpath, as I always hcced is Warrior name as being in honour of his mentor)
((also GreyOak are probably in more of a QPR type relationship, the romantic label is an over-simplification))
Crookedstar had named Silverstream as his heir and failed to name a new successor after her death. At the time Mistywood and Stonepath were considered ineligible as the children of the late second born Oakheart Chell. Leopardfur had inherited the Chell name through her mother Brightsky, a third born daughter of Hailstar and was chosen by the lords over Silverstreams’s kits, although she had to accept Storm as an heir until she had alternate choices.
Leopardstar technically had a weaker claim to the throne than Storm and Feather and a much weaker claim than Mistywood and Stonepath, once they were exposed as Crookedstar’s bio kits. This was a motivating factor for her joining forces with Tigerstar and she campaigned against all four, declaring them invalid as heirs due to their mixed heritages, stripping their knighthoods and titles and forcing Stone to fight to regain his in a bloody execution. 
She married Tigerstar in a political move (she didn’t love him; they were using each other), and Hawk and Moth were born to this marriage, Hawk named as heir.
Public opinion of this was mixed at the time and tides turned against her after Tigerstar’s death, eventually leading to her being usurped and disposed of, with Mistywood inheriting her title. Hawk, Moth, Storm, Feather and Reed grew up alongside each other as potential heirs. Hawkfrost grew to become a political pawn of a faction of nobles who still held support for Leopardstar, resenting that Mistystar eventually chose her son Reedwhisker to succeed her despite initially preparing Hawk for the role.
Much much later on a succession crisis occurs after Mistystar and Reedwhisker both die, leaving a large pool of descendants that carry the Chell name (Curlfeather and her kits, Splashtail and others who were potentially born to Feather, Storm or Hawk, I’m not sure yet)
I'd love to have a look at the other Kingdom's and their royal families at some point, I already have a good idea of how the Kingdom of Thunder's works. It's worth stating that in all Kingdoms it's required for the ruler to directly inherit the blood of a founder to have the "right"to rule, which is eventually challenged when Bluestar makes Fireheart her heir, leading to conflict and political change.
I'm having too much fun, I really want to make some maps and location sketches and mounts and weapons and timelines and more family trees aughhhhh
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cheezeybread · 1 year ago
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I've been seeing concept on my feed lately so I have to ask: Jamil taking his lover's last name when they get married. I've been seeing arguments on how this could actually free him since he technically wouldn't be a Viper anymore. So can I have headcanons for this scenario? Also how happy does he get when he's called Mr.L/N?
I've never really thought about it, but that's a pretty good point...poor Jamil needs all the good stuff he can get in this life TwT
𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥 (𝐞𝐱)𝐕𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫! :𝐃 𝐅𝐭: 𝐉𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥, 𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐥𝐲
┏━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┓
He never figured that there could be so much freedom in marriage. In all honesty, he had never really considered marriage an option for him. In Jamil's opinion, marriage was for the wealthy, those who could easily afford to have so many children and not worry about feeding them. He saw how hard his parents worked day in and day out serving Kalim's family, all so they could afford to live.
It was honestly one of the things he grew to resent Kalim's family for. They had it so easy, and they didn't even appreciate it!
And, why would Jamil want to bring a child into this world only to have them indebted to the family he himself has slaved for his entire life??
Marriage was a snake pit, and Jamil knew how to avoid those all too well.
Well, but then he met you. To be honest, Jamil never looked twice at you, assuming that you were one of those stuck-ups who enjoyed everyone's attention. But after his overblotting incident, he began to see you in a new light. You weren't craving attention. You were simply being kind. And generous. And you were oh so smart, and gorgeous...
Before he knew it, he was head over heels with you, and a relationship blossomed.
Despite his uneasiness around marriage, Jamil couldn't stand to not have you permanently bound by his side, his love for you written down on an official certificate.
You knew good and well why he was so anxious about the marriage ordeal, so a few weeks before the wedding, you went to Azul to ask him his personal opinion on the matter. After a few hours of consultation (which was, surprisingly, free! Azul said to consider it a wedding gift!), a solution was found. If Jamil took your last name, then he wouldn't legally be a part of the Viper family anymore, and therefore wouldn't be in servitude to the wealthy family of Kalim.
You presented it to Jamil with excitement, and he joined in with your happiness, although he was still a little uneasy on how to tell his parents about it
In the end, you two decided not to tell his family until the day of the wedding.
"Jamil Viper, I hereby bound you eternally to (Y/N) (L/N), to stick together for all the time in this world. You may now kiss to solidify your bond," The priest said with a loving smile, looking at the two of you like a father looks upon his child with pride "Ladies and Gentlemen, may I now introduce you to the newly wedded couple...Jamil (L/N) and (Y/N) (L/N)
Jamil's family wasn't too happy about the name change, but what could they do?? Absolutely nothing! His mother especially was upset, and pulled Jamil aside to hiss at him about how he's disgracing their family and practically shoving the Al-Asim family's face with rotten dung
HOWEVER, Kalim showed up to save the day (of course he was there! Even if he wasn't invited...he still would find a way to invite himself), informing Jamil's mother that his family was overjoyed at Jamil's decision, and wished him all the best luck in his newfound life and marriage.
Jamil's mother shut up real nicely after that.
And, after this situation, Jamil saw Kalim in a new light, untainted by his servitude to the boy. The two of them slowly became actual friends!
And for the first month after the wedding, Jamil's face would light up with an insane amount of joy whenever someone called him by his full name, proud of sharing a last name with you.
Even several years after the wedding, you can still see the sparkle in his eyes over it all.
It was the right decision, for sure
┗━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━┛
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deepdarkdelights · 2 years ago
Text
As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader
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Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 21k
Warnings: 18+, Spice but no Smut, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Grieving, Passive Suicidality, MC experiences major depression, Non-Consensual Touching, Breaking and Entering, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Technically Cannibalism? Loss of Spouse, Loss of Child, Forced Found Family, Hunting, Mass Death, Attempted Burning and the stake, MC is hit by a man (not Yoongi)
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals. 
Preview: You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.
A/N: I’m exhausted and grad school sucks but I really wanted to get this out for your guys. I hope you enjoy it, I spent way more time on it than I wanted to. I really thought it was only going to be 8k yet here we are…21k. Anyway, I miss all of you - sorry this is so long lol, this is SUPER UNEDITED. As usual, I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and comments, I love you and hope you enjoy 
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The sweet scent of flowers greeted your nose as you cracked open the window for the first time in months. 
Despite the warmth of sunshine and the bright green strokes of grass outside, it very well could have still been winter. It felt as if no time had passed since that fateful day. In your heart, winter still raged on. There were gnarled, ice-coated branches there and a torrent of never-ending snow. It had frozen over since then. 
You carried this sense of numbness you had never thought you would be capable of, it was as if your very soul had been corroded by frostbite. Any love or passion or warmth had been snuffed out like a match in the dark. 
That was the thing about grief, it could change a person into something that was beyond recognition. And your grief was immeasurable. 
When you got married, you never imagined your husband would die within the first year. 
It truly had been a cruel winter that year. The two of you were making do with what food you had. He had always been so smart, planning out what you could have each day so that it would last until spring. The only problem was the fire wood. No one could have anticipated how cold it was going to be and if you hadn’t burned as much kindling as you did you were certain you would have frozen to death. 
You could still remember that gentle look he had given you before he left. The soft touch of his fingers to your cheek, the gentle kiss he left you with. He still had every ounce of charm he had had as a boy. He had always been kind and sweet to you. He was the gentlest man you had ever known. That was why his death hurt even more. 
You had been worried the minute he left, but as minutes bled into hours and the winter sun quickly disappeared behind the mountains you were frightened to the bone. He had only an ax and a knife with him. He brought no food and no more clothing than what was on his back. He was planning on making a short trip and if he didn’t come back right away the chances of him surviving the night were slim to none. 
His body was found the next day. 
Honestly, you didn’t remember that day all too well. Everything was a blur, you could faintly remember hearing the voices of a few men from the village, the feeling of your raw throat after screaming senselessly, and the surplus of food and supplies that were sent your way with small slips of paper that read: “Our condolences.” 
They wouldn’t let you see his body and that was something you would never forgive them for. You didn’t care how bad it was, you wanted to see him with your own eyes and you were never afforded that closure. But you had heard enough from hushed whispers outside. 
“Pieces,” they had said. 
He had been mauled to pieces. They couldn’t even find all of him and what was left of him had huge teeth marks raked through flesh. It was an animal attack. Just like you and your husband, they were hungry. 
And now you were all alone. You were a pariah, one that people pitied, but a pariah nonetheless. You would never be able to marry again, not that you wanted to, but no one would want a widow as their wife. That was the way of things, you were meant to live out the rest of your days in solitude. Nothing more than a sad story mother’s would tell their children as you passed through the markets in silence. Your story would become a warning for children not to wander off into the woods. Your tragedy would become a lesson. 
The only lesson that you had learned was that love meant pain. You had given yourself to someone entirely, and when they had parted from you, you were left with nothing. That was the danger of love, losing yourself. 
After months of wishing you had followed him out of this world, you were hit with the sudden clarity that you were being selfish. He had left to try and save the both of you, but here you were wasting the life he had given you. He had sacrificed himself in order for you to keep living for the both of you. 
Choosing to live was so much harder than choosing to die. 
You shoved those horrendous thoughts to the back of your mind as you traveled through your small cottage, prying open every stiff window that you passed by. Living meant starting with the little things, like getting your home in order. It didn’t feel the same without him, but at least now that it was warmer out you wouldn’t have to stay inside and constantly be reminded of his absence. 
You stripped your bed, gathered up the used linens, and scooped up piles of worn clothes from the floor before depositing them in the basket. You were distracting yourself, that much you were certain of. But any distraction was welcome, you couldn’t bear the silence filled thoughts of him any longer. 
You heaved the basket up onto your hip and made for the door, pausing as you were faced with the blooming greenery beyond the threshold. The breeze was cool, the air was fresh. The world was starting over once again, why was it so hard for you? 
You shook the troubling thought from your head, squared your shoulders, and took a deep breath. You could at least try. And so, you stepped outside for the first time in months and faced the world. It was almost like nothing changed. The birds still chirped, the insects sang, and the rush of the river called from a distance. 
That was the other thing about grief. While it felt like your world ended, in reality, it still rushed onward. 
The soft grass sunk beneath your feet and sprung back to life as you walked, your body tense as you approached the forest. You weren’t going in too far, it was just the edge where the trees were still spread out and not too thick. You just needed to get to the river. But you couldn’t deny the sense of paranoia that was set in your bones. This was where he died, where he was mauled and consumed by whatever inhabited the forest. It would make sense that whatever animal that had ended his life was still prowling in the shadows, waiting for its next meal. 
“Stop it,” You snapped at yourself, your voice hoarse from lack of use and louder in the soft sounds of nature. 
You weren’t going far, you were going to be safe. There was no reason to be so anxious when you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. You weren’t walking into the lion's den, you were doing laundry. 
Despite your scolding, you still snapped your head in every direction when you finally reached the river. You were unsettled by every little noise, hyper aware of everything that was going on around you. For a task that was so mundane, you felt so on edge. 
The rush of icy water against your hands was enough to help you focus on the task at hand. The river had finally unfrozen. While your husband and yourself frequently bathed in the river during the warmer months, you had no plans on doing that anytime soon lest you be chilled to the bone and catch your death. Maybe when you were younger you would have risked it all for a moment of fun. But you were older now, matured by time and tragedy. It was harder to have fun now. 
You threw the shirt you were washing on a rock beside you, the force of the toss resulting in a loud, wet slap. Your body bent forward under an oppressive imaginary weight as your icy fingers braced your face, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips causing your body to sink even further. 
Living for two people was going to be even harder than you thought. Even these simple, menial tasks felt exhausting. It had been a miracle you had been able to drag yourself out of bed, that you had made it outside, that you had even journeyed to the river. But those things should be easy, so why did they feel so hard? 
You felt weak.
Useless. 
Helpless. 
You couldn’t help but think had the roles been reversed, he would have been stronger than you. He would have mourned but he would have been able to survive. He would have been able to find another wife, he would have had the children he always wanted, and he could have been happy. It was hard to not feel like it should have been you, like you were just wasting the life he had given you. It was hard to not crumble beneath the crashing waves of grief that eroded your resolve. 
It was too hard. 
A high pitched whimper broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hands dropping to your lap and your head snapping to attention. You held your breath and pursed your lips, listening closely to try and hear the sound again. 
And there it was again. Although this time it was much louder and much longer. It sounded like something was in pain. And your curiosity got the better of you. 
You shifted your basket to the side and stood, gathering your skirts in one hand as you carefully lept from stone to stone as you crossed the river. Your heart raced as you slipped once then twice, the stones slick from the rushing water, but the cries were becoming louder and closer and you felt as if you had no other choice but to find out what they were coming from. 
Once you crossed the river, you moved slowly through the grass so as to not startle whatever it was that was frightened. Every now and then you would pause and hold your breath, listening intently for the creature's cries before following them once more. You could just barely make out the shape of the animal, its body concealed by a thick underbrush of branches, leaves, and thorns. 
You dropped down to your knees with abandon and blindly reached into the shrubbery. The cries were much louder now as the creature was startled by your invading hands. Thorns raked through your flesh as you grabbed hold of the small furry body and pulled, trying your hardest to gently remove the little animal. A loud cry made you stop, halting all of your progress. It looked like it was tangled up in something. 
You quickly moved on to your second plan and softly placed the animal back down before grabbing thorn laced branches and snapping them with your bare hands. You hissed in pain as blood beaded up from the small cuts that now decorated your palms. You couldn’t fathom where this sudden rush of determination came from or why you felt like you so desperately needed to do this. That same rush that came over you to find the animal was present and even stronger with the desire to free it. You felt it on some deeper level, that you just couldn’t leave it behind. 
There was a generous pile of branches beside you now and you could very clearly see what you were dealing with. It looked like a puppy. It was very small with soft chocolate brown fur, a short nose, and the cutest pointed ears. Its big brown eyes were welled up with tears, its tail tucked between its legs, and its entire body shook in fright. 
Your horror stricken gasp was muffled as you involuntarily covered your mouth in surprise. The poor pup was tangled up in a snare. The wire was cinched tightly around its hind leg, chest, and foreleg, cutting in so tightly that blood was visible on the metal. The poor thing had run right into the trap and was stuck. You could only hope that it wasn’t intended for the puppy, that it had run into some hunter’s trap purely by accident. 
Your already lacerated hands went straight back to work trying as you attempted to untangle the snare as gently as you could. You hissed as it sliced your palms but paused only a moment to wipe the blood off on your pinafore before continuing your work. By the time you had finally managed to undo the trap, beads of sweat clung to your neck and the sun had moved a decent way across the sky. 
“There you go,” You murmured, “you’re free.” 
The puppy, although now free, didn’t move. Its deep brown eyes stared up at you as it continued to whine, its entire body still shaking with unadulterated fright. 
“Can you walk?” You asked, sitting back on your calves to get a better look at the animal.
You were shocked when it responded, in a way. The puppy attempted to stand and then walk, but it only made it two steps with a clear limp before it collapsed flat on its belly with a yipe. 
“Of course you can’t, I’m sorry,” You cooed as you reached out. Your hand paused in midair, hesitating before trying to touch the puppy. It was probably a wild dog, so it was not a good idea to go touching an animal that very well could bite you, no matter how cute it was. 
The puppy, as if it had read your mind, answered for you by leaning forward and sniffing your fingers with a cold, wet nose, before lapping at them with its little tongue. It was like any other puppy then, it wasn’t aggressive yet. 
You chewed your lip in thought as you watched the pup. It wasn’t a good idea to take in stray animals, but it was injured and leaving it in the forest would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the predators in the area. All of the blood the pup and yourself had shed was certainly not helping. And then there was the crippling loneliness of your cottage. A dog would be good for that. It would be something to share the space with, something to break up the cacophonous silence. And, when it grows older, it would be good for protection as well. The benefits outweigh the negatives you selfishly refused to think of. 
With the pup’s approval, you lifted it up and cradled it into your side much like a mother would her child. You giggled in delight from the feeling of a wet nose burrowing its way into your shoulder and neck, sniffing the cloth of your dress and your skin like it was trying to become accustomed to you. 
You crossed the river even slower now on your way back, very aware of the precious animal you were protecting. When you stopped at the river bank, you gathered your abandoned laundry and placed the puppy in the basket. You didn’t really care about the dirt, grass, and blood that would inevitably stain the fabrics - afterall, they still needed to be cleaned and you had much more pressing issues to attend to. 
You walked back with a sudden urgency in your steps, a small trill of excitement buzzing in your being. After months of isolation and misery, something so small had brought you joy, something that had been unimaginable a few hours before. 
The pup was much calmer now, softly panting instead of crying as it laid in your basket of sheets, eyeing the world that passed by as you brought the two of you back to your cottage. When you made it inside, you shut the bottom half of the door, leaving the top half open to allow fresh air in without the risk of the pup wandering out and falling down the stone steps. When you placed the basket on the ground it nosed at the sheets for a moment before limping out of the basket. 
“No, no, no, stay right there,” You chided, gently scooting it back into the sheets, “you’ll hurt yourself worse if you do that.” 
You stayed a moment, locking eyes with the pup to ensure that it would stay and understand. When you were certain that it was calmed you finally turned your back and headed into the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the healing salves and creams you knew had been there months before along with the strips of makeshift bandages. 
Within mere moments of turning your back on the puppy you were alerted once more by its cries. It had tried following you again but was now laying in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the sheet and crying from the pressure it applied on its wounds. 
You dropped the bandages and rushed to the pup, cooing as you picked it up and cradled it against your chest. The little thing was an escape artist, that was certain. 
You let out a deep sigh as an uncomfortable thought brewed in your mind. It was the only option that you could think of, even though it was terribly unpleasant. Before you could dwell too much you headed towards the back of the cottage where a single door was fixed into the frame. It stuck at your first pull but relented on the second, the hinges creaking in defeat as you entered the room. 
Any furniture that was in the room was coated with a thin layer of dust having gone undisturbed for months. That old wound in your heart was bleeding around the edges now, the pain of avoided thoughts bubbling back up to the surface. 
There was a crib against the far wall of the bedroom. 
You swiftly moved to the back of the room and gently placed the pup inside the crib. The sides were high enough that the injured dog would be unable to climb over and you were confident that this was the safest place for the poor thing. 
But even that knowledge couldn’t stop tears from pricking at the corner of your eyes as your hands subconsciously cradled your belly. Your pregnancy had been short lived. Losing your husband had been the catalyst to losing your child, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. Even though the midwife had promised you it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t see how that could be true. If you had been stronger, if you had taken better care of yourself, you would have been able to save that last piece of him. 
If you hadn’t been pregnant, maybe things would have been different. Your husband would have stayed and you would have figured out how to make it through the rest of the winter. But you had been pregnant, he had left to find more resources because of that, and even though he sacrificed his life for you and your unborn child you hadn’t been able to save them. 
You couldn’t see how any of this wasn’t your fault when you were at the center of it all. 
The feeling of cool tears rolling down your cheeks shocked you back to reality. You weakly wiped the tears away, sniffed, and shook your head. You needed to clean yourself and the pup up, you had priorities. 
You rushed around the cottage, busying yourself with what needed to be done. You ran to the water pump and wet some rags, retrieved the salves and bandages, and grabbed a bowl of poultry meat for the dog. This was a welcome distraction. 
You were greeted by excited, squeaky barks when you returned to the abandoned nursery. The pup eagerly paced back and forth, its little tail wagging so hard its entire backside wiggled. You let out a gentle giggle before releasing it from the crib and sitting the two of you on the floor, pulling the pup into your lap and distracting it with a strip of meat while you assessed its injuries once more. 
You blinked once and then twice in confusion. You could have sworn the wounds had been much worse not more than half an hour ago. The slashes were still bloody and in need of tending to, but they were not the deep, gnarled gashes that had once needed stitching. You were either still out of your mind or this animal had the fastest healing time you had ever seen. 
It was much easier to believe that your mind was failing you. And so, you got to cleaning and wrapping the wounds. The pup was surprisingly well behaved, only whimpering every now and then as you touched a tender spot but it didn’t jerk away and did its best to stay still as it ate. The more time you spent with it, the more you realized it was much smarter and more aware than you had once thought. Everything about the little creature seemed eerily human when you thought about it too much. It was better to not think about it too hard. 
Trapped in your own mind, you hadn’t realized that you had finished your work. Not until you felt the gentle lap of a little tongue against the wounds that decorated your palms, jolting you back into the real world. 
You pulled your hands away with a pained hiss before reprimanding the puppy, “No, no, no, I don’t know where that mouth of yours has been. The last thing we need is an infection.”
The puppy whined in earnest and nosed at your palm once more before you pulled your hands away again and scooped the little thing back up into your arms. This way, it wouldn’t be able to mess with the cuts. 
After you tended to your palms, applying salve and wrapping them securely, you couldn’t help but notice the odd tingling you felt emanating from them. It was warm and fuzzy and completely unexplainable - your salves had never caused that sensation before. 
As time passed and the sun crossed over the sky before dipping beneath the horizon, the feeling became stronger until it was a pulse-like thrum causing your hands to tremble before steadily declining until it was nothing more than a memory. And an odd one at that. 
It was when you began to turn in for the night, that everything fell apart. 
You didn’t notice that the crickets had fallen silent nor that the wildlife of the forest had completely disappeared. You hadn’t noticed the hollow ringing that came from the wind slipping between the trees. It was the calm before the storm, and you had no idea what was coming. 
The candlelight was dim, casting soft ochre colored shadows over the wood and stone of the cottage. The puppy slept soundly in your arms. Everything was calm. 
That was of course until a howl fractured the peace. It was so loud you could have sworn you felt the floorboards shake as a rush of fright went down your spine. The soft lull of sleep was suddenly long forgotten. 
The pup in your arms stirred at the noise, its ears perking up and its head frozen in place as it recognized the sound. It was on high alert. It knew what was out there. 
You shakily stood and approached the door, the top portion of it still unlatched and swung outward.  Outside of the lamp affixed to the stone above the door, the forest was pitch black. You could barely make out the twisted shape of the trees and the brooke that had once been in sight was obscured. But, what was even stranger, was that you were certain that the shadows were moving. 
You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes as you tried to make out what exactly you were looking at. And then, it was close enough that the light bounced off of it and you were met with the horrifying sight of a set of bright silver eyes staring back at you from the dark. 
You were frozen in an instant. But once you realized those eyes were steadily coming closer with a hulking form attached, you acted on instinct, slamming the door shut and latching it closed. You could only hope that the door would hold against whatever that thing was. 
Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants as you became more and more unsettled. Why was it so quiet? Why couldn’t you hear something so big moving? Where was it? What direction was it coming from? Your back met the wall and your weak knees had you sliding down to the ground. 
Your entire body was shaking in pure terror. There was something out there, something massive and monstrous. You held the pup in your arms tighter, bringing it to your chest for comfort as well as protection. 
You yelped as a loud bang popped the eerie silence. Whatever it was, it was slamming its body alongside the cottage. But it wasn’t doing it mindlessly, like it thought it could break through the walls. It was purposeful, it was an attempt to frighten you and determine where you were. It was smart. 
You curled into yourself as it came closer. You could hear heavy, sharp pants in between the vicious snarls that it was making. It sounded wild, primal, and predatory. It was hunting. 
The pup in your arms began whining and wriggling around as it tried to escape your grasp and all it was doing for you was frightening you even more. All it was doing was making more noise, drawing more attention to itself. And you knew it had, the creature outside had gone silent. It was listening. 
And then chaos unraveled in seconds. 
You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it. 
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye. 
Your body slowly began to slump to the ground, falling weak before the wolf. You looked like the perfect prey, like a rabbit that was so frightened its own heart had stopped. It seemed that the wolf thought similarly. It approached you slowly like it was still on the prowl as angry snarls left its gaping maw. You could feel your blood run cold as you caught sight of its enormous teeth, each one long enough that they could be made into daggers. Whatever this creature was, it was no mere wolf, it was something else entirely. 
Your hold on the pup was weakened as your chest and forehead met the ground, bending beneath the invisible weight of the wolf’s presence. From beneath the cover of your hair you could make out its large paws and hooked nails mere inches away from you. It was so close now that you could feel puffs of its hot breath disturb your hair and ghost over your neck. You were breaths away from death. 
You couldn’t decide if you wanted to flee or embrace it as you had once desired. 
A soft whimper involuntarily escaped you as you waited, feeling the tip of its nose brush over your head as its snarls grew louder. A sudden loud yapping broke the tension. 
The pup was frantically barking at the wolf and lunging at it in a playful manner all the while standing in front of you like it was trying to protect you. The sight would have been comical had you not been on the brink of passing out. This tiny puppy was fiercely defending you against this monster. 
And, to your surprise, it was working. 
Once you gained the courage to raise your head you were met with the sight of the wolf’s intense gaze trained on the puppy. More specifically, its gaze was trained on the bandages covering its wounds. The wolf looked back at you, its hauntingly silver eyes making you flinch. It continued to stare at you for a long moment like it was contemplating something, that of which you were unaware of. But then its gaze hardened and its predatory stance relaxed. It had made its decision. 
Without another snarl or howl it nipped the pup by its scruff and began to carry it out of the cottage. It stopped for a moment once it had successfully squeezed out of the broken door frame and looked back at you, this too was a look that you were unable to decipher. It gave you a slow blink and then turned, carrying the pup back to the forest and disappearing into the darkness. 
It was in that moment that you finally realized that it had not been a dog you had rescued, but that wolf’s pup. 
And with that realization you completely collapsed to the floor and were dragged into a dark, dreamless, restless sleep. 
~~~~~~~
Yoongi had come to realize that there wasn’t much that you could do to discipline a two year old, especially a two year old that was a shifter. 
His daughter, Binna, had little control over her form and had a knack for slipping away and getting into trouble. That was something he could blame on his other pack members, specifically the youngest three. 
He huffed out a sigh as he carefully extracted twigs and leaves from her messy hair, flinging them back into the underbrush. She was the very definition of a wild child. And while it wasn’t uncommon for pups her age to be curious and adventurous, it was uncommon that she so readily welcomed and followed humans. 
Humans were dangerous, that was something he had tried his best to get her to understand but she simply couldn’t. She was too young to understand how they could hunt her and hurt her, far too young to realize what that meant, and far too young to understand that it was a human that had taken her mother away from them. 
Then again, she hadn’t known her mother all too well. That was evidenced by her clinging to any female shifter she had found and babbling out “mama” to the wrong mothers. She knew her mother was missing, but she couldn’t match the face to the name. He couldn’t really blame her all that much. Her mother had been amongst the best hunters and was oftentimes absent as she hunted for the pack’s survival. Yoongi was a defender, he was there to ensure the safety of everyone that resided within their territory. He was at the front lines. And because of that, his wife was often gone and he was almost always home. To his daughter, her mother was a faceless being. 
“Let me see,” He demanded firmly, trying to unwind the bandages that were already slipping from her skin. 
She nipped at his fingers playfully, her serrated canines gleaming as she giggled. Yoongi tried his best to suppress his smile, he was supposed to be upset with her. He sighed once more and grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwind it. 
“No,” She cried in a drawn out whine, “Mama gave me! Mama gave me!” 
Yoongi froze, startled as he registered her fractured speech. She thought that human in the cottage was her mother. 
He could see why she would think that, you had taken care of her after all. From what he had seen from the wounds he knew they came from a hunter's trap, snares made from silver that were so small they had clearly been designed for pups as no adult shifter would ever be able to be caught in that small a snare. It was clear that you had rescued his daughter and taken care of her in his absence. 
And for some reason, Yoongi could only press his lips together in a firm line and failed to correct his daughter. At the end of the day, she wasn’t necessarily wrong. 
Yoongi knew you.
He had known you for a while now. He had watched you the day you and your husband had moved in. The two of you had chosen a location that was incredibly close to their territory and so he scouted you out for days to ensure that you wouldn’t stumble too far from your home, to ensure that you weren’t a threat. 
He had thought you two were safe, and that was his biggest mistake. 
Yoongi would not say that he was enamored with you, but he was definitely interested in you. He had gone his entire life knowing to never trust a human, but as he observed he couldn’t help but be enthralled by your little human quirks. 
You were so blissfully unaware of his presence as he silently stalked you. Your husband, like his wife, was often gone during the day and you were left to amuse yourself. For someone of your age, you had this odd youthful aura about you. He would watch as you would jump into the brooke, spinning around and splashing with abandon not unlike his child would. 
That version of you that he knew though, that was long gone. Loss has aged you, hardened you. Even though you were completely ensnared by fright he could see the hollowness in your eyes when he had ripped your door from its hinges. 
The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss. 
And then there was the other problem. He was indebted to you and you were now in his care. While he refused to acknowledge any attachment he felt for you, he couldn’t deny the attraction. It was incredibly wrong considering his own disdain for humans, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something else there, this odd discomfort in his chest that demanded to be felt, a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of your frightened face. 
This was not good. 
Contrary to popular belief, wolves do not mate for life. And as a shifter that was even more true. While many chose to bond to one another, it was not horribly uncommon to find a new mate if one were to leave or die. And, very rarely, there were intense bonds that made it so that you did mate for life. In the case of his wife, it was not that type of bond. Of course he was hurt, of course he missed her, but it was not the debilitating grief that you experienced. It was natural for his kind, evolutionary even.  
The attachment, this bond he felt for you paired with his daughter’s stubborn belief that you could be her mother made him make a decision far faster than he should have. 
You lost a husband, he lost a wife. An even trade. Why could you not fill those roles for each other? 
~~~~~~~
The following days were ones where you lived in a state of fright and confusion. 
When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor. 
When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared. 
Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands. 
Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next. 
That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved. 
It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place. 
And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of. 
And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before. 
This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away. 
And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that? 
The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much. 
You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence. 
“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.” 
It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?
“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light. 
It was looking at you like you were dumb. 
“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.” 
You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf. 
A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own. 
Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.
If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy. 
“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!” 
The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here. 
You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.
What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection. 
A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child. 
“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died. 
You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy. 
Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward. 
“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you. 
This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard. 
“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.” 
The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again. 
That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much? 
~~~~~~~
That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw. 
For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores. 
But your husband was dead. 
With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it? 
You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know. 
You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble. 
Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”
The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all. 
“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you. 
His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable. 
But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you. 
The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”
“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!” 
He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.” 
The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much. 
“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”
“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”
“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked. 
“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all. 
“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”
“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?” 
Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing.  But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of. 
“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked. 
He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”
“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”
“That, that confuses me.” He admitted. 
“What?!” You cried in exasperation. 
“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”
You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen. 
“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head. 
“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.” 
There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them? 
Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him. 
“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief. 
“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.” 
That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on. 
“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work. 
“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”
“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?” 
Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form. 
He nodded. 
“Are there…are there more of you?”
“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all. 
“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”
“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”
“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?” 
Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him. 
“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”
“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”
A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.” 
Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were. 
You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch. 
“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said. 
You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours. 
“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”
Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes. 
“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”
I understand you, he wanted to say. 
“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side. 
That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest. 
It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. 
Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.
“I’ll leave you to your work.” 
This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier. 
It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain. 
~~~~~~~
In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence. 
You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed. 
“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder. 
You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”
He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”
That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.” 
“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”
“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”
“It’s never been a problem before,”
“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share. 
“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?” 
“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected. 
You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?
Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded. 
Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing. 
The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were. 
You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended. 
“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back. 
You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him. 
When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before. 
Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it. 
What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave? 
You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest? 
Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat. 
No. No, you refused to believe it. 
Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind. 
It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her? 
“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind. 
They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse. 
You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.
Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.
A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger. 
You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood. 
You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all. 
You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass. 
You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready. 
You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him. 
And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away. 
There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet. 
You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible. 
“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand. 
“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off. 
You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before. 
That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away. 
He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband. 
And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees. 
A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood. 
You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder. 
~~~~~~~
Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it. 
It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before. 
“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up. 
When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it. 
“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead. 
“You didn’t know him?”
“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”
“Was he going to eat me?”
You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer. 
“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off. 
Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.” 
Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider. 
He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words. 
“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest. 
Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed. 
During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you. 
During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you. 
It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame. 
But, there was one constant with her. 
“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps. 
And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws. 
It was a silent “not yet.” 
You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least. 
The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted. 
You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them. 
Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human. 
But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him. 
The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished. 
“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens. 
Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away. 
“Yoongi!” You called. 
The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him. 
“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge. 
There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back. 
You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again. 
The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside. 
“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket. 
“I can do both, dearest.”
Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word. 
“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”
“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you. 
You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit. 
You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf. 
The silence that followed was deafening. 
Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all. 
You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours. 
“Yoongi,” You whispered. 
And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be. 
You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen. 
A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening. 
“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon. 
He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth. 
You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband. 
“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.” 
That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths. 
He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct. 
You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling. 
“I can’t, not here.” You repeated. 
He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home. 
That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful. 
You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively. 
When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders. 
There it was again. 
There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness. 
You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments. 
You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.
Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair. 
The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
~~~~~~~
When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone. 
The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts. 
Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?
You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door. 
Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge. 
You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage. 
Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.
You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair. 
You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back. 
The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger. 
“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks. 
“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm. 
“I didn’t lock you up-”
“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”
When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage. 
“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”
“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”
“I have every right, you are mine!” 
“I am not!” 
His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat. 
“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?” 
Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know. 
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach. 
“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock. 
His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal. 
“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state. 
“He wouldn’t!”
“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?” 
He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue. 
“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”
He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her. 
“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”
His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest. 
There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different. 
You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment. 
You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams. 
“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.” 
A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed. 
You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears. 
“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”
You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum. 
“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs. 
You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him. 
He had trapped you once again. 
~~~~~~~
You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.
You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.  
You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run. 
With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered. 
You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation. 
Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it. 
A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else. 
A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup. 
You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass. 
There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this. 
“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time? 
“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father. 
“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”
“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin. 
“Sorry, mama.” She repeated. 
You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“
“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke. 
Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked. 
“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her. 
You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead. 
As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own. 
But Binna wasn’t yours. 
But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another. 
You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again. 
The door shut and the lock clicked. 
You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met. 
His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent. 
“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered. 
He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was. 
“No.” He simply said. 
“You’re not being fair -”
“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.” 
You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you. 
“I am not Binna’s mother.”
He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”
You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”
“You are her mother.” 
And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna. 
She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother. 
“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection. 
You didn’t know how to respond. 
“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap. 
“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.
“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face. 
The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them. 
“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to. 
“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.” 
Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them. 
“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”
You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white. 
Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.” 
Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house. 
The door shut, the lock clicked. 
The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was. 
And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.
The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him. 
Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets. 
“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning. 
“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained. 
“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”
“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.” 
“You didn’t even give me the choice.”
“I love you, and I know that you love me.” 
You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own. 
“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong. 
Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning. 
You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door. 
“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong. 
“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door. 
That couldn’t be right? Crimes?
You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home. 
You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast. 
You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window. 
“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”
Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her. 
A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through. 
“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time. 
You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 
A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time. 
You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur. 
When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you. 
You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground. 
The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt. 
“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground. 
You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands. 
“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted. 
When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered. 
And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame. 
“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”
Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground. 
It was absolute chaos. 
The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it. 
There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live. 
Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair. 
“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt. 
“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground. 
You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 
The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being. 
You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back. 
The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust. 
“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him. 
“I am no witch-“
“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain. 
“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.
This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you. 
Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.
Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision. 
“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.” 
You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you. 
They were going to burn you alive. 
Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.
You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable. 
Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would. 
But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.” 
The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision. 
“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.
Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath. 
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone. 
But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you. 
Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight. 
The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place. 
In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening. 
It was Yoongi. 
The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you. 
The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace. 
“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash. 
“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.” 
His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him. 
Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe. 
You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men. 
“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 
“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again. 
You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.
Help them. 
Help them? 
Help them?!
You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of? 
Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone. 
You didn’t need other humans. 
“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder. 
“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 
“Kill them all.”
You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss. 
“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers. 
In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves. 
You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color. 
You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws. 
You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.
You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced. 
Out of sight, out of mind. 
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pankowcrumbs · 2 months ago
Text
Written All Over Our Faces X Will Poulter
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MasterList
Will Poulter Masterlist
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I adjusted the strap on my wrist for what must have been the fifth time, the cool plastic band slightly too tight against my skin.
"Bit nervous?" the technician asked kindly, connecting a few more wires to the monitor beside me.
I laughed lightly "Is it that obvious?"
He smiled, reassuring "Everyone is. Just answer honestly and you’ll be fine."
Right. Just answer honestly. As if that would be simple with Will Poulter sitting across from me, arms folded, grinning like he knew every single thought in my head.
"Ready, Y/N?" he teased, raising an eyebrow.
"Ready as I'll ever be," I shot back, trying to sound confident.
We were here filming the Vanity Fair Lie Detector Test as part of the press run for Falling For You our upcoming romcom where we played best friends who slowly fell in love.
Art imitating life a bit too closely, if you asked me.
Because if the butterflies in my stomach were anything to go by, I'd been quietly falling for Will from the moment we’d met.
The first few questions were easy.
"Is your real name Y/N?" "Yes." True.
"Are you an actor?" "Last time I checked." True.
We laughed through them, the technician nodding along approvingly.
Will leaned forward, chin propped on his hand, watching me with amusement as the questions rolled on.
"Have you ever lied during a press interview?"
"Absolutely," I said immediately. We both laughed.
True.
"Would you ever date a fan?"
I hesitated, glancing at Will instinctively.
He smirked.
"I mean… technically, if they’re a fan after meeting me, that’s fine, right?" I joked.
True.
Will chuckled lowly, his eyes glinting"Very diplomatic."
Then it was his turn.
He took the seat with an easy confidence, the machine hooked up to him while I held the list of questions in my lap.
"Is your full name William Jack Poulter?"
"Yes, although I mostly get 'Oi you' on set," he joked.
True.
I smiled, twirling the clipboard idly.
"Have you ever been mistaken for another actor?"
"All the bloody time," he groaned. "Especially with the eyebrows."
True.
We both laughed again easy, comfortable.It always felt like this with him.
Then the producer handed me a separate stack of fan-submitted questions.
I glanced at them, my heart skipping a beat.
Oh, God. They were cheeky.
"Alright, Will," I said, trying to keep a straight face. "The people want to know: did you and I have instant chemistry when we first met?"
He blinked at me, surprised then smiled slow and easy.
"Yeah," he said simply. "Yeah, we did."
The machine buzzed. True.
My face heated instantly, and I ducked my head, scribbling something fake on the clipboard to avoid looking at him.
"Right," I said, voice higher than usual. "Next one. Er… have you ever had a crush on a co-star?"
He laughed, rubbing a hand over his jaw.
"Maybe."
The machine spiked slightly.
I narrowed my eyes. "That’s a bit vague, Will."
"Alright, yes," he said, laughing.
True.
"Care to name names?" I teased, nudging him lightly with the clipboard.
He just grinned at me, all dimples and mischief.
"Wouldn't you like to know."
Another question came one that made my stomach swoop.
"If you had the chance… would you date Y/N?"
I nearly dropped the clipboard.
Will froze for a fraction of a second, then leaned back in his chair, pretending to consider it like it was the most complicated question he’d ever heard.
"Hmm," he said, tapping his chin. "Is that even a question? Look at her."
The technician chuckled under his breath.
I gaped at Will, wide-eyed.
"Answer properly!" I demanded, half-laughing, half-panicking.
"Fine," he said, shrugging like it was obvious. "Yes. In a heartbeat."
The machine’s needle barely flickered.
True.
Silence stretched between us for a moment.
Then he winked.
My heart nearly exploded.
We finished the shoot with red faces and aching cheeks from laughing too much. When we said goodbye to the crew, I practically sprinted to my car, my mind spinning.
He was just being nice. He was just playing it up for the cameras. Right? I wasn’t sure. Not anymore.
Because for the first time, it didn’t feel like just banter. It felt real.
A few days later, the video dropped.
It went everywhere.
Clips of Will grinning at me, of me blushing furiously, of us laughing and teasing and looking at each other like we were the only two people in the world.
Fans immediately lost their minds.
Tweets flooded in: "The way Will looks at Y/N, I'm sobbing." "They are so obviously in love and in denial, it's painful." "JUST DATE ALREADY."
Memes. Edits. Compilation videos.
It was mortifying and flattering and completely overwhelming all at once.
I was lying on my bed, staring at the ceiling, trying to process it all when my phone buzzed.
Will Poulter: "You free tonight?"
I sat bolt upright.
Before I could overthink it, I typed back:
"Yeah. What's up?"
Almost immediately, he replied:
"Felt like we owe it to the fans to have a proper date 😉 x"
My heart thudded wildly.
I typed, deleted, typed again.
"Where and when?"
His answer came quickly:
"Pick you up at 7. Dress casual. x"
I dropped my phone onto the duvet and buried my face in my hands, grinning like an idiot.
At 7pm sharp, there was a knock at my door.
I opened it to find Will standing there, casual in jeans and a hoodie, holding a takeaway coffee in each hand.
"For you," he said, offering one with a sheepish smile.
I laughed, taking it.
"Not the most glamorous first date."
He shrugged, stepping inside.
"Coffee’s romantic. Very us."
I smiled, feeling oddly shy all of a sudden.
"So... what’s the plan?"
He gestured to my living room.
"Thought we could stay in. Watch terrible romcoms. Judge them mercilessly."
My heart squeezed painfully.
It was perfect.
"Sounds perfect." I said.
We settled onto the sofa, the film playing quietly in the background as we sipped coffee and traded stories and laughed about the video.
"I swear I wasn’t trying to make it that obvious," Will said, running a hand through his hair. "I thought I was being subtle."
I snorted.
"Subtle? Will, you basically confessed on camera."
He groaned, hiding his face behind a cushion.
"And you didn’t exactly hide how much you liked it," he said, voice muffled.
I threw some popcorn at him.
He caught it effortlessly and popped it into his mouth, grinning.
Silence settled for a moment not awkward, but charged.
Will shifted closer, his knee brushing mine.
"I meant what I said, you know," he said softly.
I turned to face him, heart in my throat.
"I meant all of it."
I swallowed hard.
"Me too."
His face lit up, slow and warm, like sunrise.
"Good," he murmured, leaning in.
I closed the distance, meeting him halfway.
The kiss was soft, tentative at first a question. I answered eagerly, tilting my head, deepening it.
His hand came up to cup my jaw, gentle and sure.
When we finally broke apart, we stayed close, foreheads resting together.
"Think we should tell the fans?" I whispered, breathless.
He chuckled, low and fond.
"Maybe let’s keep it ours for a little while," he said. "Just us."
I nodded, smiling.
"Just us."
For now.
Because somehow, without even meaning to, we’d written a love story even better than the one we were promoting.
And this time, it wasn’t acting.
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