#why do they never get to experience any gentleness

[imafraidoftomorrow]

Listen, I know Jun Wu has done horrible, unforgivable things as a result of his bitterness and his anger and his grief and his resentment, and nothing can make up for the suffering and the anguish that he caused so many people, especially our sweet Xie Lian. I know that.

But... I still can't help but wish that someone, anyone, just one single person, had listened to his story and told him,

Hey. I'm really sorry that happened to you. That was a horrible thing to have to go through; no one could have deserved that. You tried your very hardest. You tried everything that you could think of to do. I'm sorry that not a single person appreciated your efforts. I'm sorry that they only used you. I'm sorry that they scorned and ridiculed and renounced you. I'm sorry that everyone left you all alone in the end. The fact that you tried should have counted for something. The fact that you even thought to try should have meant something.

I just think, maybe if someone had told him those words at any point in time, then things might have been different. Maybe he could have changed. Maybe his heart wouldn't have frozen over. Maybe he could have turned himself around.

For as much as he wanted to corrupt Xie Lian and make him his 'successor', I think maybe deep down, a part of him actually just wanted to be vindicated. To have his suffering be understood. And while Xie Lian did not owe him a single ounce of sympathy, if he had shown him even a little bit and said the above, I'm willing to bet the great White Clothed Calamity would have broken down crying.

Xie Lian himself was saved by a single act of compassion, after all.

There's just not enough empathy in stories.

[honoredalone]

ASPECTS OF SEX ✮

SATORU GOJO + KENTO NANAMI + TOJI FUSHIGURO + CHOSO KAMO ♡

sex life with the jjk men + links

this idea came into my head and i couldn’t resist

my dead dilfs <3 i love them more than anything. let’s pretend the recent leaks didn’t happen because i can’t handle thinking about them.

𐙚 SATORU GOJO, the strongest and sexiest

how he moans - i think it’s unspoken but agreed upon that satoru is a whiner, a moaner, a VOCALIST. he starts off with deeps groans, grunts but as time passes, he gets more inpatient, more whiney, more desperate.

how he does foreplay - he’s an EATER. for sure. no doubt in my mind. he seems like the type who’d come home from a long exhausting day and just eat you ferociously. he’s obsessed with the way you taste. not just your pussy, but your skin, your lips, your tongue. of course like any man he loves a blowjob but if he had to choose between eating you out or getting blown, he wouldn’t hesitate to pick going down on you.

how he fucks you - fanon gojo is WRONG, he’s not a sex addict. considering his infinity and his trauma from the hidden inventory arc and just aspects of his life in general. he definitely is the type to keep touch sacred so why would he just go around fucking people… right. he wouldn’t. he won’t have sex unless he can look at you, it’s more intimate. you’re special, why wouldn’t he want to look at you.

𐙚 KENTO NANAMI, 7-3 more like 24/7

how he moans - DEEP grunts. deep breaths. small whispers. that’s all. and it’s all hot.

how he does foreplay - he likes to spank. FOR SURE. he’s a sweet lover but he loves the idea of you getting soaked from the sting of his palm and long fingers on your ass. just know after he’ll rub them, kiss them and leave hickeys on them.

how he fucks you - hard but LOVING. he loves missionary, he’ll spice it up though. choking you, tying you up, pinning your hands above your head, lifting your hips off the bed etc. his pace is slow but hard. assertive but gentle.

CHOSO KAMO, death painting womb i’d like to fuck

how he moans - i think regardless of if he’s in control or not he has the WHINIEST moans ever. whimper audio? you got it. he is shamelessly a whimpering god. when he’s on top he’s in your ear practically sobbing and when you’re on top his head is lazily held up while he writhes beneath you. big sweet baby ^o^

how he does foreplay - he loves tits, he loves all of you but he fucking LOVES your tits. sucking on them, kneading them, fucking them. anything to do with your tits gets him hard and sometimes he can’t help but slide a hand down to relieve himself.

how he fucks you - fanon choso is also wrong in MY opinion. let me explain. he has never TRULY lived, so how could he be this subby puppy baby when he hasn’t tried anything like be for real. he likes to be in charge most of the time, but he’ll let you take control. he likes to have you in different positions just to experiment with different things, but he knows he likes to see your face when having sex.

TOJI FUSHIGURO, sorcerer killer? nah. feminist killer

how he moans - i don’t think toji is a big moaner, but more of a dirty talker. BUT if he did moan once in a blue moon, i picture it like this.

how he does foreplay - now this man likes a blowjob, but again i don’t think he’d shove his cock down your throat until you’re gagging uncontrollably and crying. he likes you to take your time while sometimes grabbing your hair and gently guiding your head lower onto his shaft.

how he fucks you - he likes rough but PLEASURABLE sex, folding you in half and fucking you hard. same with gojo, he’s not going around fucking women, maybe as a teen but for sure not after the passing of his wife. he values his time so he’ll take his time with you, prepping you, fucking you and aftercare.

sorry i’m not a huge fan of fanon characterizations of gojo, choso and toji, sue me. i just think knowing their stories, a lot of things that are “canon” to the jjk fandom are just abundantly wrong and it grinds my gears like no other.

pls don’t hurt me it’s my opinion D:

god forbid someone has an opinion.

feed back is VERY appreciated and if y’all have any ideas or suggestions please feel free to let me know

[mimicmimikyuwrites]

The First "I Love You" - Adam (Hazbin Hotel) x Fem!Reader SMUT

Summary: You tell Adam that you love him for the first time, the first of any of his wives to tell him that. Your confession of love leads to Adam showing you just how much he loves you back.

Contents/Possible Warnings: P in V sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cream pie, Adam being his usual insufferable self, SMUT, MDNI

The world outside of Eden's garden was a dangerous one, but your husband never failed to keep you safe. Adam had told you stories of the garden and how he lived there with Eve, years before your creation as his third wife. His tales of the place he described as Earth's own heavenly paradise where your every need was met always enamored you; for you too wished you could experience it with him by your side.

The possibility of that happening was long gone as soon as Eve bit into the forbidden apple, but without the actions of your predecessors, you wouldn't have come to be. In a way that even you admitted was a little fucked up, you were grateful that things happened the way they did, and you were grateful you got to meet the love of your life.

Adam was an asshole with an ego that was far too big, but at the end of it all, he was the same man who kept you safe during the day, and who held you at night, keeping you warm despite the cold night, just as he was in the present moment.

You snuggled up to him, your head laying on his chest while his hand absentmindedly combed through your hair; the two of you attempting to get some sleep, gazing up at the stars in the night sky. You certainly weren't in the Garden of Eden, but being with him was like your own personal paradise.

You looked up at him. His eyes were half-lidded and threatening to close from his quickly growing need for sleep. He yawned, pulling you closer, an action that earned a gentle smile from you. You leaned up, kissing him softly.

"Fuck was that for?" He questioned. "You tryin' to fuck, babe? Usually, I'd be thrilled, but I'm exhausted as shit right now."

You shook your head. "I just wanted to kiss you, is all." You replied, smiling at him warmly. He gave you a curious look, unfamiliar with the concept of a kiss that was more chaste in nature. Whenever he kissed you, or his previous wives, in the past it was in the throes of a lustful exchange.

"...Why? Do you want something else, or...?" Confusion filled his voice in a rare moment where he wasn't his usual confident, boisterous self. You shook your head. "I wanted to do it because I love you, Adam." Those last four words played on repeat in his head. "I love you, Adam."

The phrase "I love you," had been uttered by a human before; he had said it to Lilith, and then Eve, but never to you. Yet here you were, the first one to say it to him, all of your volition. The feeling in his heart was indescribable to him, something he never felt before, and it felt better than anything else. Knowing that the one he loved felt the same for the first time ever made him feel almost euphoric, and he was determined to get as much out of that feeling as possible.

His lips crashed against yours in a passionate kiss. He climbed on top of you, moving his lips down to your neck where he sloppily kissed and nibbled, earning a light moan from you; one of his favorite noises.

"Let me show you just how much I love you back," he said, voice low, his hands moving to your thighs. "You want that, don't you? Tell me just how much you want that, sweetheart." Your legs spread instinctively as he loomed over you, the pale moonlight of the night reflecting off of him and giving him an alluring glow.

"Adam, please," you breathed out, pulling him down, your faces nearly touching. "I want you so much. Make love to me, fill me up, do whatever you want to me—" He silenced you with another kiss, pushing into you slowly. You moaned into him, your arms wrapping around him in an attempt to get as close to him as you possibly could, savoring the intimacy of it all.

His thrusts were slow, yet deep, and the pace had you feeling every single inch of his cock inside of you. It was a welcome contrast to the usual way he fucked you; with quick, rough movements and an eagerness to reach only his climax and not yours. It seemed for once he was fully enjoying the pleasure shared between you, and in no real rush.

"Say it again," He told you, burying his face into the crook of your neck as his speed increased just slightly. "Say you love me, baby." With your mind clouded with pleasure you barely heard him, your only focus being on the way his cock fucked into your pussy. Unsatisfied with your response, he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look into his eyes filled with arousal, love, and a twinge of desperation.

"Say. It." He growled, each word followed with a sharp thrust that hit your sweet spot head-on.

"I love you—fuck! Adam!—" You threw your head back, arching your back as he rewarded you by speeding up, thick cock stretching you out perfectly with each movement. "Love you—fuck, yes!" You let out a loud moan as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it in a circular motion.

"Gonna fill you up," He groaned, the sound of his hips smacking against yours filling the air. "'I'm gonna get you pregnant, have you do what those other unfaithful bitches couldn't do for me. You probably want that more than anything, to be my perfect little wife who only loves me."

You only nodded at his words, practically drunk off of the feeling of his cock fucking into you so deliciously, your mind clouded with pleasure. Your nails dug into his back as you attempted to ground yourself, your orgasm barreling towards you; its arrival sure to be at any moment.

"Gonna cum—" He warned, moaning out your name in a way that made you even wetter than you already were. "Y-You gonna let me fill you up? Let me–oh shit—" He moaned again as you wrapped your legs around his waist, burying him in deeper and locking him in place at the same time. There was no pulling out now, not like he was going to anyways.

"Loveyouloveyouloveyou—Ah! Fuuuuck!" He growled, his hips stilling, warm cum spilling deep into you. The feeling of him filling you to the brim sent you over the edge, your climax consuming you.

You two remained in silence for a long couple of moments, looking into each other's eyes in a shared adoration before he pulled out, laying next to you. You closed your eyes, satisfied, yet tired.

"Come here," He said, voice gentle, pulling you closer and wrapping an arm around your waist. "Let's do that shit you always want to do after I fuck your brains out."

You furrowed your brows in a slight confusion before quickly realizing what he meant. You let out a giggle. "You mean cuddle, Adam? You usually just go to sleep afterward. What changed?"

He rolled his eyes in response to your question, trying to hold back the smile sneaking its way onto his face. "Trust me, I'm going to sleep, babe. Might as well hold onto you so you don't sneak off or some shit like all fucking women seem to do."

You ignored the implications of his comment, snuggling up to him. "I love you, Adam. I mean it. I'm not going anywhere."

He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth in his heart from your words. "Love ya, too. Now go to sleep, the man needs to get his rest."

You closed your eyes, the feeling of him tracing imaginary patterns into your back lulling you to sleep. You loved him, and he loved you, even if he was still struggling to fully accept it.

[risuola]

FACE MASSAGE — F. READER x SUKUNA RYOMEN ft. Yuji Itadori

You give your boyfriend a nice, relaxing face massage when Sukuna, being bored out of his mind, takes over Yuji’s body.

cw: fluff, Itadori is 18 and is a vessel for Sukuna — 1,3k words

a/n: alrighty, this one I wrote randomly thinking of how the lines actually are quite a good guide for a face massage (also, if you never had face or a scalp massage, you're missing out!). i usually write Sukuna as his separate person, but here he's in a vessel. it's nothing but purely fluffed up piece of late-night babbling, enjoy 🩷

It was already late, the clock showed almost 11pm, but you were not asleep. Yuji had just gotten home, taken a shower, and breathed out loudly, whining to heavens about how he had worked his butt off during the training session with Gojo. Your boyfriend came back all tired, and the hot shower didn't do much to soothe his strained muscles.

"I'm soooo tired," he whined again, and you couldn't help but smile at the adorable pout his lips had formed as he walked into the room you shared with him.

"'My poor thing," you cooed, kissing his forehead as he sat down next to you. "How about I give you a little face massage?"

"Yes, please," Itadori nodded vigorously and you giggled as you instructed him how to position himself and when you had his head comfortably over your lap, you warmed up a nice portion of face cream in your palms.

"Relax for me, baby," you told him, and he closed his eyes the moment your fingers made contact with his skin.

Yuji loved the magic your hands performed upon his aching muscles, and he found head and face massages particularly relaxing, so it wasn't surprising when he began to doze off in a matter of moments. With him half-asleep, you could take your time to admire the boy who had shamelessly stolen your heart with just one of his wide and extremely kind smiles, and as you glided your fingers smoothly across his forehead, down his temples, cheekbones, and jaw, you fell in love all over again. At first you were extremely gentle, stroking along his features, warming the skin as you went, before applying more pressure to the knots under his skin.

You rubbed small circles across his forehead, paying a little more attention to the space between his eyebrows and near his temples before lowering your hands to work the lotion into the large muscles over his cheeks. Using your thumbs, you forced the tension away with enough pressure to make Yuji purr softly. Then something unexpected happened. Black, tattoo-like lines appeared under your fingers and you slowed your movements, startled by the sight.

You knew that there is a curse living rent-free in your boyfriend, and you've seen Sukuna before, but he had never come out like that, for no reason, without a fight, without a single trigger, so you had no idea what to expect.

"Continue," he ordered, and you swallowed, pressing your fingertips back to his cheeks. Ironically, the lines that adorned his face made for a perfect guide for the massage, and you unconsciously followed them.

"Is there a reason for your appearance now?" you asked cautiously, keeping your fingernails away from the extra pair of eyes as you brushed over the bones beneath them.

"Nothing in particular," he replied lightly, looking up at you as his expression turned more serious. "Although I don't like you looking at me from above."

"You're literally on my lap."

"That's why I'll allow it, once. As for why," he relaxed his face again as you slid down his cheeks to work the muscle around his mouth and along his jawline. "Can you imagine how bored I am inside this brat?"

"I'm afraid not."

"You can't, that's right." A sigh left Sukuna's mouth. "What a pity, I'm bored out of my mind."

"I see, but please don't tire Yuji any more, he's already exhausted."

"You should worry about yourself rather than him being tired."

"I probably should, but if you were to decide to kill me now, you wouldn't get to experience the wonders of my scalp massage, so if you're okay with such a loss..."

You were really pushing his buttons here, being way too brave for your own good, but he seemed comfortable with the situation, which gave you hope that you wouldn't be decapitated anytime soon.

"Proceed then, and I'll make my decision afterward."

You finished his facial massage with a few light strokes along his features and wiped your hands with a tissue to remove any excess cream that hadn't absorbed yet, before you sink your hands into his hair. "Could you flip over to your stomach?" Once that was done, and Sukuna turned almost too obediently as you guided his head back to your lap, you used your fingers to brush through his blush-toned hair, pushing it back and purposefully scratching the skin between the strands as you dragged your hands to the nape of his neck. Once again, you used circular motions and quite a bit of pressure to stimulate the circulation and relax the tense muscles. You knew it was pleasurable, you knew how Yuji's body reacted to your touch and the fact that it was the King of Curses at this moment couldn't change that. The only thing different was the silence, which would normally be filled with constant mewling and whimpering from your boyfriend, but you couldn't expect those from Sukuna. Frankly, you'd be startled if he suddenly started purring.

As you worked your magic, the man remained calm, his cheek pressed against your thigh and his arms behind your back and around your legs, and it didn't really bother you too much. His touch was almost non-existent, he just kept his hands there because they had to go somewhere.

"Do you find this acceptable?" you asked quietly, lowering your fingers to graze the back of his neck. Your thumbs slid down the line of muscles that connected them to his shoulders, and he moved his arms down, giving you more access to that area.

"Acceptable is a good term," he muttered, exhaling deeply as you firmly squeezed the shoulder muscles, working out the tight knots there. Normally, this would turn Itadori into a whining mess, needy of affection and ready for endless cuddles, but for Sukuna, you put more effort into what you were doing. It felt strange. Technically, it was still your boyfriend's body that you had touched many times before, but somehow it felt like you were massaging a foreign man. Even though your fingertips knew the dips and curves of his silhouette, your mind found it hard to process.

Lost in thoughts, you let your hands go lower, onto the shoulder blades and near the spine, following the line down, working your palms into his toned back, only snapping back to reality when one of your hands brushed over the stitches. Oh yes, Yuji had injured himself the day before and because of Shoko's absence, he had to have the wound stitched up. He shouldn't be training with that at all, but he's so stubborn...

"Sukuna?", you addressed him quietly, trying to sound as respectful and polite as possible.

"What do you want?" he replied, his voice indifferent, but he knew from your tone that you needed something from him.

"There is a wound on Yuji's back. Could you heal it so that I can massage that area as well?"

“I don’t mind the pain. I don’t feel it,” he informed bluntly.

“But I can’t massage over stitches. I know it’s nothing for you, so pleaseee?”

"You're pushing your luck, you know that, right?" Sukuna laughed. Oh, how sneaky you were, he loved it, and it's only because he really enjoyed the massage that he granted your request. The sewn-up wound healed before your eyes and black stitches fell away. Your whole face lit up as you ran your hand over the spot.

"Thank youu," you smiled, and as if on autopilot, your body bent forward. You planted a soft kiss on the top of his head before you could think twice and only realized what you'd done when it was too late. Oh. "I'm sorry," you muttered quickly.

"You're so fucking clingy," he scoffed. "Humans..."

"Don't be mad, I'm just grateful," you cooed, returning your nails to his scalp to hopefully distract him from wanting to cut you to ribbons, and it seemed to do the trick as he melted over your thigh, relaxing his body once again.

In few minutes the black markings disappeared, your boyfriend was back and you were left confused but relieved.

[kyber-crystal]

i will follow you into the dark || bradley "rooster" bradshaw

summary: your first instinct has always been to push people away when they get too close, but for some reason, you have trouble letting one pilot go. but little did you know that he had settled into your heart from the start and has no intention of leaving. (in which you have Bradley Bradshaw wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even notice—5 occasions that solidify your love for him, and 1 time you realize it)

words: ~3.3k

warnings: angst (BUT A HAPPY ENDING, I PROMISE), near-death experiences, brief mentions of violence, also my writing LMAO

a/n: hi guys i haven't posted a full-length fic in a LONG time but here we go :) this fic won the vote so it's going up first! hope you enjoy :)

I. meet me in the middle

“Mav!”

You and Maverick turned around at the same time. “Which one?”

“The pretty one,” Rooster stated. 

“Be more specific.”

“I am being specific, Captain.”

“No, you aren’t.”

“Fine, I need your daughter.”

“You always need her for something.”

“Sorry, pops,” you grinned and clasped Maverick’s shoulder, and walked over to Bradley. “Come to kidnap me again, Bradshaw?”

“Actually, I’m hungry.”

“Then…go eat? I don’t see what any of that has to do with me.”

“I’m going to dinner, and I want you to come along,” he explained. “So, let’s go.”

“Is that why Cyclone was grumbling about someone spilling coffee all over him earlier? I knew it had to be you that put him in that mood.”

“Doesn’t matter. Come on.”

You looked back at your father, who simply laughed and motioned for you to go. The test flight would have to wait. 

It was 5:30 when you got there, but the usually-crowded cantina had only one other person inside. Rooster didn’t hesitate as he set down his car keys and slid into the booth right next to you.

“There’s a seat right there,” you pointed out. 

“And?”

“You can sit over there.”

“I don’t want to, though.”

“Alright, then.” 

You weren’t even done for the day and already, felt tired and worn out beyond belief. The one thing that had been keeping you going was Maverick’s promise to take you on a Mach 7 test flight. (With the Admiral’s permission, of course. But you wouldn’t be surprised if he had never asked.)

Rooster tells the waitress your order without blinking, and you give him a tired smile as a thank you. 

There’s no animated conversation, no loud comments or jokes or anything of the sort as the food comes out, but neither of you mind. Sometimes, all you needed to cool down from a long week was each other’s company and a steaming plate of fajitas. 

The little routine you’ve established falls into place so easily you don’t even have to think. Impromptu dinners, blasting 80’s music as the sun goes down, taking the offbeat path down to the coast with salt in your windswept hair.  Little to no words spoken, and somehow the silence speaks volumes.

But you don’t understand why he’d choose you to do this with, out of everyone. You’d expect him to drift towards someone less damaged. Someone who could keep up to his free and daring spirit and push him to his limits. Someone who had less baggage and didn’t flinch at every little touch. 

But despite all that he doesn’t leave. Even when everyone else around you seemed to, he was always there, assuring you he’d wait no matter what.

“Don’t worry about it.” He places a gentle hand over yours as he hands his card over to pay later that evening. “Let me treat you tonight.”

“Thanks…” 

He holds the door open for you as you walk out and keeps a ghost of a hand against your back the whole way to the car. You’re trying to burrow into yourself, but he doesn’t stop looking at you. The feeling of his eyes on you sends shivers running down your spine and you nervously shift in your seat. 

“You okay?” Rooster places his hand on the headrest as he reverses out of the parking lot. “You seem quiet tonight.”

“Yeah.”

“Okay.” He doesn’t press any further, assuming that you’re tired and that’s why you’re unwilling to say much. He knows. He understands. “If you ever need to talk, though, I’m one call and a 15 minute walk away. Or 7, if I sprint.”

This makes you laugh a bit. “If you say so.”

II. waiting on you

As soon as you hop out of your plane, he’s the first one there to greet you and pulls you in for a hug. You have no time to react to it because he’s so quick to sweep you up into his arms. You can smell a mix of sweat and coffee and a little bit of raspberries on him, and it helps bring you back down to reality. 

“You saw me a few hours ago, Roos…please let me go…” you mumbled into his shoulder. His grip on you only tightens further. “What’s with the excitement?”

“Nothing. I’m just happy to see you.”

Not knowing what else to do, your hands awkwardly reach up to pat him on the back. “It’s good to see you, too.”

Though you don’t say it out loud, you’re also just as happy to see him—it’s comforting to know he’ll be waiting whenever you return from something. And that, you think, is more than enough. 

Rooster carries your things for you without asking, and you’re grateful because your shoulders feel like they’re going to fall out of their sockets. Once again, he’s standing close by as you go to your quarters, ever the watchman. If he doesn’t have a hand on you, then his eyes will stay glued to you for as long as they can be. 

“Is that my shirt?” he asks as you step out of the bathroom wearing an oversized vintage T-shirt and a pair of jeans. 

“No.”

“It looks better on you, anyway.” He smirks; you fail to notice the way his gaze lingers on you a bit longer than normal. “You ready to go? They’re waiting for us at the Hard Deck. Hangman’s complaining about a rematch or somethin’.”

You lean into his side and smile, and he puts an arm across your shoulders. It feels so natural that you almost don’t notice. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

His eyes never leave you, even when he’s in the thick of the game. It’s impossible to ignore the heat pooling in your stomach every time his gaze flickers over to yours. 

Coyote notices your dazed look and nudges Payback in the side. “How is it that everyone knows that Bradshaw and Y/N love each other except Bradshaw and Y/N?”

“Because they’re stupid,” Payback whispered back.

“Ah. Makes sense.”

“So, we need to do something about it.”

“Hm…I’d say we wait it out. They’re going in the right direction.” A small smile graced Coyote’s face as Rooster pumped a fist up in victory before rushing over to embrace you. “A room full of people, yet all he sees is her.”

“You’re so right, man.”

III. rose-tinted glasses

“What are you looking for out there?” Rooster called out.

“Something pretty,” you replied as you stood by the ocean’s edge, the wind fanning your hair around your shoulders. He’s sure that he’s never seen a more mesmerizing sight. 

“I beat you to it, because I already found one,” he stated with confidence, eyes never leaving you.

“Where?”

“I’m looking right at her.”

“That’s not what I meant, silly. Do I look like a seashell to you?”

“No, you’re even better.”

You laugh once again and resume your search. Right then, a glowing scallop catches your eye, and sand dusts your clothes as you bend down to pick it up. It’s smooth and seems to glow in rose gold amidst the early evening light. 

“Would you look at that,” you breathed out, palm extended to show him what you’ve found. “It’s perfect.”

Rooster encloses his hand around yours, and you can feel the heat radiating from his skin. It’s cold out but you’re not freezing at all because he’s so close. He’s so close. Your heart skips a beat. 

“Wow…it sure is.”

He kneels down with you, and you spend the next few hours making it a competition to see who can find the most unique set of stones. A strange feeling washed over you as you watched his brows furrow in concentration. Never had you imagined to be spending Thursday night with Bradley Bradshaw by the seashore, and yet, it feels like you’ve done this thousands of times before. 

Everything seems to fall into place. 

IV. for you, i’d cross the line 

“Y/N, hey.”

“Are you drunk?”

“Doesn’t matter. Move over.”

You shifted on the bench to make room for him and he sat down next to you. This was probably his tenth time playing his rendition of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ but that didn’t matter; the man knew how to sing. You found yourself leaning into him and listening to his heartbeat, and the sensation lulled you into a peaceful trance. 

You took one good look at your best friend. Sweat lined his forehead and his face was bright red from both the alcohol and heat, but still, you were 100% sure that you’d never seen a more beautiful sight in your life. 

The way he seemed to gaze at you made your heartbeat pick up speed. It didn’t matter that he had too one too many drinks in the moments leading up to this, nor did it matter that he was always one to be rather affectionate with you. It didn’t make you love him any less—if anything, it made him all the more endearing. 

“You’re looking at me very…intensely,” you mumbled. “It’s making me nervous.”

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmured. “A man can’t help it when he’s in love.”

“Was that tipsy you or sober you?”

“Sober me is saying I love you.” He continues playing, unfazed, and the sound of the piano in your ears fades away into nothingness. 

It’s drunk Rooster telling you he means what he says, the confidence boost making him do things he normally wouldn’t. It’s drunk Rooster attempting to serenade you as his warm, alcohol-riddled breath falls against your neck. It’s drunk Rooster talking…but there’s a sober truth hidden behind his words that sends a shiver down your spine. 

You’re nose-to-nose as he starts to sing, and you lose yourself in a sea of gold and blue as his warm thumb grazes over your cheek. As if there’s an invisible string drawing you together, you move closer and closer towards each other. Drunk or not, he was utterly enchanting and you couldn’t turn away.

Once again…you ignore the stirring feeling in your chest at the feeling of his body being so close to yours. 

V. saving grace

You find yourself opening the door to Rooster, who has a bouquet of your favorite flowers and some large Tupperware in hand. Butterflies flutter in your stomach as you accept them and step aside to let him in. “What is this for…?”

“Thought you’d want something nice to add to the kitchen. You and Mav need to work on decorations,” he said. “Why? Do you not like them?”

“No…I’m…how’d you know these were my favorite, anyway?”

“I heard you talking on the phone to Phoenix about them six months ago,” Rooster explained, taking his jacket off and hanging it over the couch. “I pride myself on being observant like that. Also…I woke up early to cook you that pasta you always go nuts over when we drive to LA.”

“Oh.” Your heart twinged as you glanced over—that damn pasta was your favorite thing on the entire planet. You claimed that nobody could make it as well as the diner in Newport did, except Bradley himself. (He didn’t tell you how many times it took to get it just right, though. He didn’t want you freaking out over that. And besides, Maverick’s pots and pans that he borrowed had already paid the price.)

He paused for a moment after setting the container down on the counter. “I noticed you went home early today. Are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m fine,” you lied as you put the flowers in a vase. But that was no use; he could see right through your monotone response. “Didn’t sleep enough last night.”

Bradley sees your hands tremble slightly. “Sweetheart.”

That’s all he needs to say before you step forward and lean your head against his chest. One arm finds its way around your waist to pull you close, while his free hand smoothes your hair out. A cracked sob escapes your lips and you squeeze your eyes shut in the hopes that if you kept them closed long enough and prayed hard enough, a guardian angel would swoop in and save you. 

“I’m here, it’s okay, you’ll be okay,” he murmurs. “You’ll be okay.”

“Please don’t go, Bradshaw,” you begged, voice hoarse. “Don’t leave me.”

“I’m right here, don’t worry,” he reminds you, his hand moving down to rub your back. “I’ll be here whenever you need me, I promise.” 

You reach your pinky out a bit, and the two of you link your fingers together. 

You’re never letting go, and neither is he. 

epilogue—soul ties 

“I’m trying to shake them off. They won’t let up—shit, I’m hit—”

His panicked voice cuts through the buzz of static and you can feel your whole body go numb. What if he doesn’t make it back… The thought alone is too much to bear. 

He curses under his breath and you hear something like that of a whispered prayer and several mentions of Please let me come home to her. Your heart clenches in your chest and you feel like you’re going to puke. Noticing your sudden uneasiness, Maverick grips your hand to keep you steady. 

“Bradshaw, what the hell is going on there?” Coyote nervously rubs at his forehead as he looks up at the screen. “If you die, we’re all going to kill you.”

“Left engine’s completely blown out. I have two bogeys on my tail.”

You bite the inside of your cheek until the tangy, metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. This couldn’t be happening. There already was a ghost amongst the skies, and Rooster could not afford to become the second…

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, I’m going down, guys—” Rooster curses again, and the earsplitting sound of a large blast interrupts him before he can say much else. 

“Bradley!” you shrieked as you watched his radar signal slowly fade off the screen. “No—”

Silence punctures the air and you finally lose balance, succumbing to the black void of nothingness. 

—

10 hours later, you sit outside the hospital room in the cold hallway, a thin, tear-stained blanket wrapped around your shoulders. Hangman and Phoenix had long since given up on getting you to move, so they took turns sitting with you. 

“You should try eating. There’s In-N-Out nearby, I’ll get something for you if you want,” Jake offered. 

You shake your head. 

“Come on. It’s been all day.”

“No.”

“You’re really that worried about him, aren’t you.”

“No,” you muttered bitterly. 

“You claim to not care, yet you’ve been sitting here for the past ten hours.” 

“I don’t care. This is me looking out for him in the same way any colleague or teammate of his would. This is what I’m supposed to do. What we’re all supposed to do.” 

“Y/N.” Jake sounds a bit more serious this time, and this makes you stop trying to bury yourself within your thoughts. “Listen to me.”

“What,” you exhaled.

"The fact of the matter here is,” he cleared this throat, “Bradshaw cares about you…a lot. Not in a simple and innocent ‘friendly’ way. And if you keep pushing him away like you always do, all 'cause you're scared, you're gonna lose him for good. Losing a good man out of fear is never worth the cost."

Your heart stops.

Every hug, every word and cheesy pickup line, every lingering glance and touch and intertwined set of fingers—he'd fallen first long ago, and pulled you down with him. But you let him, and you'll walk to the ends of the earth if it means he'll hold your hand along the way. And that's when everything hits all at once—the realization comes crashing down like a waterfall. 

You were hopelessly in love with him, the man who brings you flowers every Friday night. In love with the man who holds the door open for you, gives you his favorite jackets, and stays up late or wakes up early to learn your favorite comfort meal (even if it means failing 17 times in the process and ruining Maverick's kitchen), the man who serenades you to classic rock ballads with the taste of rum on his lips. 

This was Rooster Bradshaw, and he was your soulmate.

“But I already lost him,” your voice falters as you struggle to find the right words to say, “I can’t.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. That man is going to stay waiting for you until the day his body is buried six feet underground. Deny it all you want, but he’ll keep waiting long after he takes his last breath.”

You let out a long sigh and stood up. “Okay.”

You’re hesitant as you step inside the small hospital room. He’s asleep, but he must’ve sensed your presence and his eyes flutter open. 

“Sweetheart…”

“Bradley.” He moves over a bit for you, and you sit down next to him. “You’re alive.”

“Sorry for not dying. That must’ve disappointed you,” he jokes. If he’s in any sort of pain, he manages to mask it behind a soft smile. “I’m really glad you’re here.”

“I waited ten hours.”

“You should’ve gone home and slept.”

Closing your eyes, you rest your head against his chest. “I wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing that you weren’t okay.”

He hums some tune against the crook of your neck; lips brushing over your skin. “But I came back, like I promised. I’m okay, because you are.”

Helovesmehelovesmehelovesme.

As if he could read your mind, he leans in just that bit closer. You look up at him and your heart somersaults in your chest. 

When your lips meet, everything clicks into place and it’s like you finally found the missing puzzle piece you’d been searching for. He was here all along; it made so much sense. Everything else fades away into the background as you get lost in the feeling of him and him alone. You knew from the moment he stuck out his hand and told you with a million-dollar smile “I’m Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw, and I can make a mean lasagna or anything else you want,” that choosing him would be the single best thing you ever could’ve done. 

And you were most certainly right about that now. 

“I kept it, you know.” he murmurs as you eventually break away, “I didn’t think it would last as long as it did, but here it is.”

“What…what are you talking about?”

He fingers dip below the scoop of his T-shirt and he brings out the glittering charm, laying it in his hand. “You gave it to me ages ago. It was a while ago but I still remember the exact time and place. August 5th, 2010, 2:26 a.m. We were both on the verge of falling asleep.”

Your heart grows warmer. “Roos…”

Rooster opens the locket, and inside is a picture of you beaming as you wrapped your arms around him from behind. So young and so in love, but not yet knowing how you felt about each other. 

“I think this is what kept me alive up there. I was in the air long enough to think about and reflect on the fact that I was dying, but I knew I had to come home to you. I was dying, Y/N, but you saved me. If you didn’t come into my life right when you did then I wouldn’t be here. I wouldn’t be telling you that I love you.”

He has you at a loss for words yet again. It didn’t matter that you’d known each other for years because he would always find a way to steal your breath. The once-tiny caterpillars crawling in your stomach had morphed into giant butterflies that never stopped fluttering when he came too close.

He leans in and he’s kissing you again; this time it’s like you’re his sole source of oxygen and he’s in desperate need of fresh air. Your grip on his hand tightens as he deepens the kiss, and you pray to God that your heart won’t explode into a million pieces like it did when you thought you wouldn’t see him again. 

I’ve died and come back to life twice now, Rooster tells himself. 

And both of those times, you’re the angel that magically appears to save him from a certain, unfortunate fate. 

tags, including people who may be interested (sorry if this list seems off, it hasn't been updated in a while hahah): @sarcastic-sourwolf @totomoshi @sebastianstangirl01 @purelyfiction @lunamoonbby @hazelgirl355 @multifandom-fangirl4 @paintballkid711 @buckysbeloved @lyn-lc @spawn0fsatan @milestomaverick @teacactusworld @cherry-waved @ellabellabus07 @vitanileon @lam-ila @criminalyetminimal @whatlovegattado @queenbbarnes @yeehawnana @t-stark35 @thesunsetphantoms @danirose-0420 @callalily2000 @the-untamed-soul @shizzybarnaclee @bananaa @luvfurdogs @shalaniela @unordinare @and-claudia @lgg5989 @katiemcrae @elenavampire21 @joyfullyswimmingface @nyx2021 @cosm1cfae @ellabellabus07 @vane28282 @bittergomez @littlebadariell @tallrock35 @whotfatemywaffles @hoedameronsworld @aerangi @julia-marshal @uwiuwi

(also if you filled out the general taglist form/top gun taglist form and you're not on here, that means i couldn't tag you for some reason)

[praeluxius]

How Sweet To Be Alone

newjeans minji smut (for all readers, it's 3rd person)

3.4k words - quick lil thing I wrote over a couple of hours thanks to a single message from Kaede.

masterlist commissions

There's a certain magic to being alone. You can do things you normally wouldn’t in the eyes and ears of others. For a person like Minji, it's an exceedingly rare, almost foreign experience, making it so precious. She cherishes these moments when the rest of her group members are out on schedules or off with their own friends, and she's the only one left in the dorm.

That's why the first thing she does after she kicks off her shoes and closes the front door is slip a hand down into her panties and feel her heat. It had already started building in her mind well before getting home. Just the thought of what she would be able to do later got her so worked up. The day drags and drags. Tension builds. She's a bomb waiting to go off, and finally, the fuse is lit.

She strips off her clothes on the way to her room and falls back onto the mattress wearing nothing but her little black panties. She starts with her fingers on her neck, just digging the nails in slightly and pulling them across her soft skin. The tingling sensation sends her eyes rolling and makes her gasp softly.

Minji takes her time, making her way over her entire body, leaving red marks in the wake of her nails. By the time she gets to her thighs, the skin is so hot she can hardly bear it. She hooks her fingers into her panties and slides them down her long legs. She lies back and squirms, desperate for friction on her cunt and something, anything, to get her off.

But she knows the anticipation is the best part—waiting and waiting for her turn with herself. Hands roam freely—there are no restrictions, no expectations. She doesn't need to put on a show. This is about her. This is her time to let herself go.

She's soaking wet. The pad of her middle finger slips right over her clit and the electricity of the contact causes her to curl her toes. She gasps at the suddenness of the feeling, but she doesn't stop. She rubs her clit with the same finger, over and over, in little circles. Her mouth hangs open, and she breathes heavily. She closes her eyes and focuses on the feeling—the pleasure.

The first orgasm is always quick. It's always so close to the surface when she starts on a day like today. She feels it coming already, building inside her. She can't stop—won't stop. Rubbing harder and faster until her gasps turn to moans as she struggles to hold it back any longer.

Then her legs clasp together, trapping her hand between them. Her back arches and her thighs shake. And it comes. A wave of euphoria, like nothing else. She holds herself there, suspended in the moment. Everything stops and there's just her. The bliss. The ecstasy. It's perfect.

She doesn't come down from it. Not really. She's still riding on the high. It's all about her—what she wants and how she wants it. The first orgasm was just her appetizer. 

The drawer next to the bed is filled with the tools of her passion. Toys of all shapes and sizes. She runs her hand along them. Feels the smooth plastic and the rippled edges, all the different shapes and sizes. Her mind goes to the sensations each one will give her. She settles on what in her mind is the perfect start. It's simple, elegant, and the perfect size for her. It's smooth, made of glass, and has a gentle curve that hits the spot just right.

Her legs relax, opening wide again. The cool touch of the glass makes her breath hitch. She runs it slowly through her wet folds. Up and down. Up and down. She circles it around her entrance. There's a quiver in her breath as she teases herself.

But she's been teasing herself all day. Enough of that.

She presses the head of the dildo against her opening. It slips in so easily. Her head tips back and her eyes close as it stretches her open. Her walls contract around it, squeezing it tight.

She never uses lube for this one. She’s dripping and it’s smooth, but it's that little resistance that feels so good. Minji takes it slowly. Pulling out and pushing back in, getting just a little further in with each thrust. She wants to savour it.

She moves her other hand to her breast and starts to pinch and pull her nipple. Her hips rock with the rhythm of the dildo, moving deeper inside her with each push. Every inch fuller she becomes, that little bit more satisfied she is. She lets out these little grunts as she takes more and more.

"Oh god," she groans as she hits her limit. She takes a second to catch her breath and enjoy the feeling. That's all she gives herself. One second. Because she wants more. She craves it. She's hungry.

So with her wrist anchored just above her pretty little pussy, she holds the end of the dildo in her fingertips and slides it back out. Then back in, deep and hard. A low moan escapes her lips.

Her fingers pinch her nipple harder and she pulls, tugging the skin taut and sending a shiver through her whole body. Again and again. She works up at a steady pace, pumping the dildo in and out of her.

With every thrust, the pressure inside her builds like a coiled spring. The sounds are coming freely now, a mixture of grunts and moans. They get louder and louder, and she can't help it.

"Oh god, yes!"

Faster now. She can feel it coming. Her hips grind to meet her thrusts and her hand hits against her clit every time she drives the dildo into her. She can't hold back anymore.

Her back arches, her eyes squeeze shut, and the tension releases. It washes over her and her entire body quakes. Every nerve ending fires off, sending electricity coursing through her body, but she fucks herself through it all, prolonging the sensation.

Minji collapses on the bed, arms by her side. The dildo she left inside slowly slides out, along with her cum. She breathes hard and sweat forms over her chest—shimmering under the lights to accompany the hot glow on her skin.

There are no words, no moans. Just near silence, broken only by her breaths. Her chest rises and falls, the rest of her doesn't move. She stays like that for a while, staring at the ceiling, enjoying the peace and the serenity.

However, that can only last so long. Minji is a needy girl today. That's the nature of the beast. When she gets like this, one is never enough. Two? That's the bare minimum.

She rolls over onto her stomach and reaches for the drawer again. She doesn't even look at what she's grabbing—doesn't need to. Minji knows. Her hand closes around a familiar toy. She brings it out and sees the ridges running the length of it. Perfect.

She pushes her hips up off the bed, getting her knees under her. No time to waste.

As she pulls one out and throws it aside, she's quick to replace it with her next choice. It's about the same length, but thicker, and she knows just how good those ridges are going to feel.

Her face in the pillow, and her ass in the air, she's reaching between her legs and sliding it against her soaked pussy. This one is always tougher for her, and as much as she enjoys the struggle, she concedes to her need for lube.

She grabs a small bottle and pours a liberal amount onto her fingers. It glistens on her fingertips and then she smears it onto the toy. Once it's nice and slick, she places her hand back on the bed to prop herself up. With her knees spread wide and ass in the air, she reaches under and slides the tip of her new toy into her. She bites her lip, holding her breath.

With a little push, the head is inside. It stretches her, opening her up. The first inch is the hardest, and as her walls relax, she can finally let her breath go.

"Oh god," she murmurs to herself, a tremble in her voice.

Her body shakes, and every movement makes her whimper. Slowly, the shaft of the dildo sinks deeper into her. She gasps and her knuckles whiten, grasping at the sheets.

"Oh, fuck."

Once it's halfway in, she stops. Her whole body is taut, the muscles of her thighs and arms tense and rigid. She waits for her body to adjust. The stretch is intense. She's so full, so full of this toy.

But not full enough.

Minji pushes further. The ridges rub against her sensitive walls, each one bringing a new wave of pleasure as it slides by. She grits her teeth, bends her elbow and forces her head into the pillow, muffling the sounds of her whimpers.

It's so fucking good.

She's fucking herself again now. Pulling back out, dragging the ridges along her, and then sinking back in. Over and over. Her head spins. Her legs are shaking and she's struggling to keep herself propped up.

And it's not even all the way in.

"Come on, Minji," she says to herself, spurring herself on. "Take it."

One last thrust and she's got it in deep. Her eyes roll back in her head and she lets out this deep, guttural moan into the pillow.

With both hands between her legs, one playing with her clit and the other holding the base of the dildo, she starts to pump. Short, quick strokes at first, just enjoying the sensation. Her whole body moves with each thrust. Every muscle is engaged, every nerve firing off.

Soon, the strokes get longer. She fucks herself with more conviction. The sound of her wetness as she drives the toy in and out and rubs her clit roughly is obscene. She doesn't care. She can't care. Her mind is so far gone.

Her moans are constant now. Her whole body is covered in a sheen of sweat. The pillow that muffles her sticks to the sweat on her face. The room smells like sex. Smells like Minji.

And she loves it.

Adrenaline alone fuels those final few seconds it takes to reach yet another orgasm. It crashes over her. It's the kind of climax that makes you weak. Her legs give out and she collapses onto the bed, face still in the pillow, her cries swallowed by the soft fabric.

But it's not done. Her hand keeps going.

"No, no," she says, pleading to no one. She's still cumming. Her whole body tenses and the waves of pleasure wrack her.

She doesn't willingly stop, not until her body gives up on her—which it does, inevitably. Minji can't move, exhausted by her desire. She rolls onto her back, pulling her latest choice out of her. Her thighs are soaked, and it runs off onto her sheets.

"Oh fuck," she laughs and stares up at the ceiling. "Such a mess."

But a good one. She loves this feeling. That warm, content, post-orgasm bliss. Nothing else in the world compares to it. She basks in it for a while. Lying there naked on her bed, covered in sweat, cum, and the smell of sex. It's the best feeling.

Until it's not.

Because as quickly as it came, that contented warmth fades away, and the need begins to build again.

She sighs, frustrated at herself. "So greedy, Minji."

She shuffles over the wet sticky sheets of the bed, so she can look over the edge and into her drawer. Her fingers hover over the assortment of options. She considers the wand, but she's in that mood now where she needs to be filled again and that wouldn't satisfy. Her fingers graze over her buttplugs, her cuffs and straps. Her hand wraps around one of her favourites, another dildo, but this one vibrates.

She smiles.

"That'll do."

Minji rolls onto her back again, spreads her legs, and strokes one hand over her pussy. She holds the vibrator and reaches her thumb for the switch. It whirrs to life. She holds the buzzing end just above her clit. Just in the proximity, she can already feel the sensation.

She dips her hand, but as she does so, it cuts out. The sound stops and what rubs against her cunt is just a plain old dildo.

"Fuck."

She sits up, looking at the lifeless toy, and she flicks the switch on it back and forth. No dice. It's dead.

She slams her hand against the bed. "Seriously?" It's the only one like it she has and right now it's the only thing she wants.

Minji looks back down at her collection, searching for something else. Something to fill her and fuck her and her frustration grows.

Then an idea forms in that cloudy little head that can only think about cumming, and she thinks she has a solution. A smile appears on her face.

"Well, they will be out for a while..."

And with that, she rolls off the bed and stands. She's a little shaky, and the muscles of her thighs are still so weak from the last, but she steadies herself. Then, naked and horny, she peeks her head out of her door. First, she looks across the hall to the door to Danielle's room, then to the right where the rest of the apartment is eerily dormant. All the doors are open and she's sure there's no one else there. Finally, to the left, to the closed door of Hanni's room.

Minji knows she's the only one home, but walking through the apartment naked and sneaking into the other girl's room still makes her nervous.

She tiptoes across the floor and stands outside Danielle's door. It's already partly open, so she gives it a little push. She takes a step inside and looks around. Everything is neat and clean. Danielle isn't as messy as Minji is.

"Where would she hide it?"

Her eyes scan the room. The shelves. The desk. The nightstand. Bingo—under the bed.

Minji crouches down and reaches until her hand hits a box and she pulls it out towards her. She is faced with a four-digit lock.

"Damn," she murmurs. "Unless..."

1104. It pops open.

"Pick something better than that, Dani," Minji says under her breath.

She pushes the lid open. There are a few interesting pieces. Some that Minji would love to try one day and some that she's probably a little afraid to, she thinks as she pulls out the set of anal beads and sets them aside.

"Gotcha," she whispers and grins as she pulls the vibrator out of the box. It's one of the good ones, too. Not that Minji's isn't a good one, it's just not working right now. But this one... oh, this one is going to work.

She shuts the box and slides it back under the bed.

Minji stands up, toy in hand, and her own reflection catches her eye. She can see how strange it all looks, but she's not even ashamed of the way she's standing there, naked in Danielle's room, holding her vibrator and ready to use it.

She turns and leaves, heading back to her room. Her feet carry her so quickly and then she slams the door behind her.

"Now," she says, climbing onto the bed on her knees. "Where were we?"

She flicks the switch on Danielle's vibrator, and it whirrs to life. Minji's mouth curves into a smile. Her eyes go half-lidded. She brings it closer and pushes the tip of it against one of her nipples. She looks down and watches the nipple harden under the toy. It feels so good, and it gets her even more worked up.

She runs the vibrator down the valley between her breasts and over her stomach, down to her waist, and then further. It leaves a trail of goosebumps in its path. 

Her thighs quiver as the vibrator reaches the apex and her lips part. She rubs it slowly up and down, just teasing herself. The sound of the vibrations fills the room and her hips roll to the rhythm.

Her breath hitches as the toy finds its way to her clit. She holds it there.

"Oh my god," she whispers to herself.

The pleasure washes over her. Her eyelids flutter and her chest rises and falls with every quickening breath. She is still looking down at the way her body reacts, the brief tremors and the jolts as the pleasure shoots through her.

Minji places a hand back behind her, her knees still bent and spread and her ass perching between her feet. As she does, she slips the toy down, sliding it through her folds and into her waiting cunt.

"Yes," she groans, throwing her head back. "Oh, fuck yes."

The length of the vibrator twists and turns inside her, pushing against her sweet spot with an unpredictable rhythm. She's so sensitive. Every inch, every bump, every curve sends a fresh wave of euphoria through her.

Minji pumps the vibrator, working up a steady pace, and she closes her eyes, imagining herself being fucked.

"Yeah, like that," she says, and her voice is breathy. "Just like that."

Her mind is in a world of its own. It's not just the toy—it's the fantasy. The thought of having someone there, someone watching her, someone enjoying the sight of Minji taking care of her and her needs.

"Oh, I bet you like watching me, huh? You like seeing me play with myself like this?"

The words are just rolling out of her now. The fantasies have taken over.

"This is your toy, Dani. Do you like me using it? Do you like knowing I'm going to cum all over your vibrator?"

She's lost. She's lost in the pleasure and the moment and her probably twisted thoughts.

"Or do you want to be here? Do you want to be fucking me yourself?"

It's getting harder to control her voice. It's getting harder to think. The tension inside her is building. She can feel the pressure. It's becoming unbearable. She's close, so close.

"You want me to cum for you? Watch me."

That's the thought that does it. That's what pushes her over the edge. She's shaking from head to toe. Her thighs are trembling and the arm that holds her up is giving way. She can't help but fall back onto the mattress.

"Yes, yes," she moans, her mouth open and eyes shut.

Every fibre of her being is focused on the orgasm coursing through her body, and it's the most beautiful feeling. Her walls contract around the toy, squeezing tight, and the vibrations send her whole body into spasms. She can't take anymore, and yet she can't stop. She just allows it all to happen, closing her legs and holding it inside her and she rides it out until the pleasure is too much to bear.

Minji pulls the toy out, leaving her feeling so empty, but so satisfied. Her head is swimming, and the whole room seems to spin. A smile is on her face and her limbs feel heavy. Her heart is pounding, it hammers in her chest.

It's over.

She lays there in the mess she's made; the sweat glistening on her body and her hair sticking to her neck. She tries to speak, but the dry words are inaudible.

Minji's mind is hazy, her thoughts scattered, but she has this overwhelming feeling of happiness. She had been thinking about this for days. This is what she needed. This is why she wanted them all gone. So she could have some time to herself. Time to enjoy herself—how sweet to be alone.

She sighs and smiles. Bathed in ecstasy, she closes her eyes.

And just down the hall is the sound of water. A shower.

Minji doesn't hear it. She just lies there, drifting in and out of a blissful haze.

[i6eyes]

10:43 pm. gojo satoru

"i want to crawl inside you," satoru's blend of azure hues locks onto yours, "i want to live under your skin, be as close as possible to ya." he nuzzles his temple on your clavicle.

your attention shifts from the book in your hands to your boyfriend, the very same one who's currently gnawing your chest as gentle as teeth would go. the book you were propping on top of his head suddenly seems like an ideal tool to hit him with.

"what." you monotonously respond, your tone flat, eliciting a whimper from him.

"you don't get it baby," he laments, drawing out his words. why can't he express his love for you in a more .. conventional way? "you're not gonna get it ever. ever! cause no one will love you half as much as i do." he adds.

you won't understand his intense desire to merge with you, to share his very soul, heart, and mind with you. to experience life through your eyes, to feel your emotions, to embody your essence. you, his angel, his cherished love, a woman too gentle, too sweet, too loving for a man like him.

a man who flirts with danger, who caress death with the tips of his fingertips, who wields power with a mere flick of his wrist, a man who believes he's too flawed, too damaged for someone as pure as you.

"try me," you retort, a soft chuckle escaping your lips. you gently place your book aside and run your fingers through his silky unpigmented white hair, a touch that makes him practically purr with contentment. "i've climbed those tall, tall walls of yours — a little more wouldn't hurt now, wouldn't it?"

he wouldn't dream of causing you pain, hurting you in any kind of way, but he knows you don't see yourself the way he does, you never will. "eh, now that i thought about it, it's kinda lame."

you protested, but with a laugh. because that's how things are with satoru, disapprovals and complaints laced with light-heartedness and amusement.

that's what satoru is, a breath of life with a touch of death.

"are you mad right now? because you look soo hot— ow!" you smack him upside in the head.

[tofuxtea]

𝟓:𝟒𝟑 𝐚𝐦 | 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — mizu x fem!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, wlw, fingering, making out, inexperienced!mizu, sub!top!mizu, eventual dom!mizu, praise kink if u squint, “doll” used,

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — keep thinking abt how mizu would be during her first time with a woman and i’m unwell. i need that woman so bad i could treat her so right. NOT PROOFREAD BUT IDC THIS IS JUST A LIL DRABBLE FOR THE GALS :]

“this is okay?” mizu would try to sound confident as she climbed on top of you, but the tremble in her voice and raging blush on her cheeks would betray her. her haori was already a mess, twisted on her body and beginning to shrug itself off in her own clumsy haste.

yet you, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm underneath her looming figure. the figure that your fingers had begun to make out inside of her haori’s wide opening. she shivered under each and every one of your touches and caresses; smooth and confident.

her ocean blue eyes clamped shut, a poor attempt at collecting herself. mizu was more skilled than anybody in focus yet she was incapable of steadying her own breathing. she felt weak and vulnerable on top of you like this. on any other day, she would’ve killed you before giving you the chance to see her eyebrow so much as twitch upwards.

“you’re alright, mizu,” the sound of your voice, hushed and sultry in her ear, seemed to keep the both of you alive. “keep going. undress me.” you whispered, slowly starting to untie the front of your haori in hopes of mizu finishing it for you.

she did, her lithe fingers working to get the thick layers off of you. you observed her face when it finally pooled underneath your figure, much smaller and a bit wider than hers. you watched her lips part to pull in a jagged breath, her pupils dilate, nearly filling her baby blue irises, her eyelids droop the lower her gaze went.

you slipped your finger underneath her chin, bringing her eyes back up to yours. they latched onto your lips on the way up, wet and plump from having been kissing you for so long just moments earlier, and she realized hers must look the same by now. instinctively, mizu’s body lunged forward, her lips pushing against yours with a breathy moan.

the way her mouth moved against yours, her tongue rolling over your own, would have convinced you that she knew what she was doing. your own elbows buckled as a moan slipped past your lips, one hand flying up to cup mizu’s jaw.

that same hand slid underneath the collar of mizu’s haori, heaving the fabric down to reveal her fair, scarred skin. you pushed it off of her, drinking in her toned body.

your eyes worked upwards, lingering on the dirtied wraps around her chest, until they met her eyes, though hers wouldn’t find yours. a shameful heat burned at her face, but you couldn’t see why.

“can i?” you asked, prodding gently at where the tattered wrap was tied. mizu only nodded, allowing you to undress her. the wrap would soon be pooled beside her, her body fully exposed to you. “you’re so fucking beautiful, mizu.” you hummed against the smooth skin of her neck.

the warmth that bloomed in mizu’s stomach was inexplicable. she’d never felt anything like it before, and she found her eyes stinging with tears. she wanted you.

“i wanna make you feel good,” she meekly admitted. “but i’ve never been with…” a woman, she wanted to say.

you finished the sentence for her with a soft kiss and gentle grin. “‘t’s okay. just touch me…” you trailed off to grab the back of her hand, letting her adjust her balance before guiding it to your breast, “here.”

mizu gave the soft mound an experimental knead, noting the way your eyebrows came together and your chest caved with an exhale of satisfaction. her touch contrasted from yours; cooler and unsure. not to mention, her hand was much bigger than yours.

her swordsmanship experience was beginning to show with how quickly she adapted to what you enjoyed. noting what made you tick and your body arch into her touch. she was even rewarded with a few mewls from your swollen lips when her thumb rolled over your hardened nipple.

mizu’s lips suddenly found the front of your throat, taking you by surprise when your head lulled back. your fingers laced through her long dark locks, gently tugging when the flat of her tongue messily dragged over the blooming mark on your skin.

“you sound so fucking pretty f’me,” mizu’s voice was deep and low, drawing another needy whine from you. your sounds were intoxicating. every ounce of embarrassment and uncertainty was beginning to fade away every time she elicited one from you. so much so that she gained enough confidence to slot her hips in between your thighs, cushioning her thrust with her hand.

you gasped, the gap between your back and the cold ground getting smaller. mizu’s lips curled upwards in a smirk when your fingers locked around her shoulders, nails digging crescents into her skin. “can i touch you here?”

you nodded so quickly you almost made yourself dizzy. “please — fuck — please!” you begged her, feeling the pads of her fingers tracing gentle circles into the hot flesh of your inner thighs. her touch was always unusually colder than you expected, and it made your body prickle with goosebumps.

“what do you want me to do? hm?” you smelled the teasing bounce in her tone, but you had no gall to scold her for it.

instead, your hips pathetically rutted into her palm with a whine. “want you to rub my clit ‘n fill me up with your fingers.” your words made her stomach stir with arousal, and mizu hummed.

then, finally granting you the satisfaction you craved, she started circling your clit with the pad of her middle finger. you cried out at the sensation, greedily rutting into mizu’s hand for more. “like this, doll?”

mizu’s purred nickname made you sigh and you nodded against her shoulder. “look at me.” the blue-eyed woman instructed. her tone made a chill run down your back and you leaned onto your palms to show her what she’d done.

your face had flushed a deep red and a sheen of sweat made you glisten in the dim light. your own eyelids hung low and you now looked at mizu with a predatory gaze. she returned that hunger twice as strongly, picking up her pace between your thighs.

“mizu,” her name tumbled from your lips like a prayer. “need you inside of me, please.” your patience was running incomprehensibly thin the closer mizu pushed you to the edge and you found your thighs were already beginning to shake.

you grasped mizu’s wrist, the woman’s face suddenly twisting with fear that she’d done something you didn’t like, and slowly guided her fingers to your lips. mizu watched with a shuddering whine as you took her middle and index finger into your mouth, rolling your tongue over and between them.

“fuck,” mizu groaned at the warm sensation. she felt herself clench around nothing when she saw the dark look in your eyes as they bored into hers. even when you let her pull her hand back, a thin line of droll connecting the tips of her digits and your bottom lip, you refused to break eye contact.

so she didn’t either. not even when she slid both fingers into your wet cunt all the way to her knuckle. she watched your face twist with pleasure, and reveled in the way her name flew from your lips between moans.

your arms wrapped around mizu’s neck as your lips found hers, pulling her almost flush to your body as you collapsed back onto your crumpled haori with a squeal. mizu quickly found her balance, letting out a soft giggle at your eagerness.

you moaned into the sloppy kiss, your hips rolling up to meet mizu’s deep thrusts. yet it seemed nothing could quite quench your thirst.

your hand slid down the front of mizu’s body, lingering to toy with her nipples for a while, before reaching her thighs. she hummed softly against your mouth when she felt your palm gently begin to coax her legs open wider.

mizu gasped when you found her clit, her own arousal making it easy for your finger to roll over it. the rhythmic pace of her fingers faltered for just a moment. “shit,” she hissed amidst a moan.

the blue-eyed woman persisted, striking a borderline brutal pace right back up. now it was your turn to waver, your fingers going almost still at her pussy. “mi-izu!” you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes when her two fingers curled deep inside of you.

“that’s it, doll. cum on my fingers.” mizu cooed, watching your expression twist and turn with lust-crazed eyes. you were getting closer and closer to your orgasm, and mizu’s pride was only swelling along with you. she could hardly believe she was making you feel like this — sound like this.

moans and whines tore from your throat as your cunt clenched around mizu’s digits, practically sucking them in. mizu was captivated by the feeling, and she knew she would’ve been entranced by the sight if she wasn’t so damn focused on your beautiful face.

“look at me.” it seemed she lost her demanding tone and now wore one of desperation. “i wanna look at you while you cum.” mizu all but begged you, melting when you shakily hummed and met her gaze.

her piercing blue eyes alone nearly pushed you over the edge. but instead it was the groan she let out the second you had looked up at her that left your thighs trembling against her hips and your cunt spasming around her fingers.

mizu was almost embarrassed by the way her own hips rutted against the back of her hand and the whine that fell from her lips at the sight of you. almost.

she found your lips before you’d even finished regaining your composure, melting against you one last time before letting herself go with a broken cry.

for a while you remained like that; mizu panting against your chest while your fingers carded through her hair. “you did so good, mizu,” you whispered, trying to catch your breath. “so fuckin’ good.”

wow!

[deepdarkdelights]

As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader

Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader

Word Count: 21k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His body was found the next day. 

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

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

“Pieces,” they had said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You felt weak.

Useless. 

Helpless. 

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

It was too hard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then chaos unraveled in seconds. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And, to your surprise, it was working. 

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi knew you.

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

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

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

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

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

The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss. 

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

This was not good. 

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor. 

When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared. 

Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands. 

Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next. 

That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved. 

It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place. 

And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of. 

And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before. 

This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away. 

And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that? 

The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much. 

You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence. 

“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.” 

It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?

“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light. 

It was looking at you like you were dumb. 

“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.” 

You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf. 

A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own. 

Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.

If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy. 

“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!” 

The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here. 

You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.

What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection. 

A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child. 

“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died. 

You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy. 

Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward. 

“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you. 

This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard. 

“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.” 

The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again. 

That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much? 

~~~~~~~

That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw. 

For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores. 

But your husband was dead. 

With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it? 

You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know. 

You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble. 

Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”

The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all. 

“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you. 

His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable. 

But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you. 

The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”

“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!” 

He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.” 

The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much. 

“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”

“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”

“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked. 

“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all. 

“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”

“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?” 

Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing.  But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of. 

“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked. 

He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”

“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”

“That, that confuses me.” He admitted. 

“What?!” You cried in exasperation. 

“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”

You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen. 

“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head. 

“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.” 

There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them? 

Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him. 

“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief. 

“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.” 

That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on. 

“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work. 

“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”

“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?” 

Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form. 

He nodded. 

“Are there…are there more of you?”

“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all. 

“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”

“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”

“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?” 

Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him. 

“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”

“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”

A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.” 

Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were. 

You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch. 

“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said. 

You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours. 

“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”

Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes. 

“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”

I understand you, he wanted to say. 

“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side. 

That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest. 

It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone. 

Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.

“I’ll leave you to your work.” 

This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier. 

It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain. 

~~~~~~~

In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence. 

You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed. 

“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder. 

You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”

He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”

That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.” 

“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”

“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”

“It’s never been a problem before,”

“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share. 

“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?” 

“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected. 

You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?

Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded. 

Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing. 

The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were. 

You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended. 

“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back. 

You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him. 

When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before. 

Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it. 

What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave? 

You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest? 

Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat. 

No. No, you refused to believe it. 

Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind. 

It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her? 

“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind. 

They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse. 

You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.

Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.

A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger. 

You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood. 

You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all. 

You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass. 

You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready. 

You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him. 

And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away. 

There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet. 

You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible. 

“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand. 

“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off. 

You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before. 

That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away. 

He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband. 

And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees. 

A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood. 

You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder. 

~~~~~~~

Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it. 

It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before. 

“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up. 

When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it. 

“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead. 

“You didn’t know him?”

“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”

“Was he going to eat me?”

You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer. 

“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off. 

Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.” 

Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider. 

He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words. 

“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest. 

Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed. 

During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you. 

During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you. 

It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame. 

But, there was one constant with her. 

“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps. 

And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws. 

It was a silent “not yet.” 

You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least. 

The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted. 

You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them. 

Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human. 

But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him. 

The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens. 

Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away. 

“Yoongi!” You called. 

The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him. 

“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge. 

There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back. 

You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again. 

The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside. 

“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket. 

“I can do both, dearest.”

Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word. 

“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”

“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you. 

You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit. 

You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf. 

The silence that followed was deafening. 

Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all. 

You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours. 

“Yoongi,” You whispered. 

And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be. 

You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen. 

A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening. 

“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon. 

He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth. 

You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband. 

“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.” 

That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths. 

He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct. 

You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling. 

“I can’t, not here.” You repeated. 

He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home. 

That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful. 

You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively. 

When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders. 

There it was again. 

There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness. 

You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments. 

You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.

Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair. 

The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

~~~~~~~

When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone. 

The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts. 

Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?

You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door. 

Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge. 

You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage. 

Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.

You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair. 

You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back. 

The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger. 

“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks. 

“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm. 

“I didn’t lock you up-”

“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”

When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage. 

“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”

“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”

“I have every right, you are mine!” 

“I am not!” 

His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat. 

“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?” 

Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know. 

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach. 

“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock. 

His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal. 

“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state. 

“He wouldn’t!”

“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?” 

He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue. 

“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”

He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her. 

“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”

His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest. 

There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different. 

You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment. 

You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams. 

“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.” 

A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed. 

You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears. 

“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”

You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum. 

“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs. 

You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him. 

He had trapped you once again. 

~~~~~~~

You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.

You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.  

You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run. 

With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered. 

You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation. 

Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it. 

A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else. 

A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup. 

You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass. 

There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this. 

“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time? 

“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father. 

“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”

“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin. 

“Sorry, mama.” She repeated. 

You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“

“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke. 

Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked. 

“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her. 

You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead. 

As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own. 

But Binna wasn’t yours. 

But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another. 

You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again. 

The door shut and the lock clicked. 

You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met. 

His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent. 

“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered. 

He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was. 

“No.” He simply said. 

“You’re not being fair -”

“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.” 

You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you. 

“I am not Binna’s mother.”

He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”

You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”

“You are her mother.” 

And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna. 

She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother. 

“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection. 

You didn’t know how to respond. 

“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap. 

“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.

“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face. 

The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them. 

“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to. 

“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.” 

Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them. 

“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”

You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white. 

Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.” 

Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house. 

The door shut, the lock clicked. 

The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was. 

And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.

The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him. 

Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets. 

“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning. 

“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained. 

“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”

“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.” 

“You didn’t even give me the choice.”

“I love you, and I know that you love me.” 

You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own. 

“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”

~~~~~~~

When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong. 

Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning. 

You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door. 

“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong. 

“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door. 

That couldn’t be right? Crimes?

You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home. 

You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast. 

You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window. 

“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”

Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her. 

A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through. 

“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time. 

You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this. 

A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time. 

You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur. 

When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you. 

You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground. 

The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt. 

“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground. 

You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands. 

“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted. 

When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered. 

And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame. 

“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”

Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground. 

It was absolute chaos. 

The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it. 

There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live. 

Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair. 

“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt. 

“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground. 

You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being. 

You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back. 

The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust. 

“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him. 

“I am no witch-“

“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain. 

“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.

This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you. 

Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.

Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision. 

“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.” 

You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you. 

They were going to burn you alive. 

Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.

You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable. 

Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would. 

But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.” 

The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision. 

“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.

Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath. 

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone. 

But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you. 

Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight. 

The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place. 

In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening. 

It was Yoongi. 

The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you. 

The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace. 

“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash. 

“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.” 

His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him. 

Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe. 

You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men. 

“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world. 

“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again. 

You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.

Help them. 

Help them? 

Help them?!

You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of? 

Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone. 

You didn’t need other humans. 

“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder. 

“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Kill them all.”

You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss. 

“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers. 

In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves. 

You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color. 

You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws. 

You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.

You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced. 

Out of sight, out of mind. 

[hoshifighting]

virgin!mingyu x reader

warnings: first time experience, oral, hair grabbing, cock riding, slightly nipple play (m receiving)...

you and mingyu always bicker. it's your thing. teasing, mocking—it's all part of the routine. recently, though, you’ve been working on a college project with wonwoo, mingyu’s roommate. 

mingyu had just broken up with his girlfriend from campus a little while ago. wonwoo mentioned that his girlfriend lost patience with mingyu because he didn’t want to have sex with her. 

what she didn’t know was that he’s still a virgin. 

when you heard that, you felt sad. mingyu isn’t a bad person at all.you remember back in high school when you were the one being mocked for never having kissed anyone. mingyu, hearing all the fuss in the canteen, just walked over and kissed you. it made all the teasing stop.

you didn’t like that the gossip was about him now. one evening, wonwoo excuses himself, saying he needs to go to his parents' home. he leaves you at their dorm to finish the project, knowing mingyu is around.

“hey, can you pass me the glue?” you ask, not looking up from your work.

mingyu, lounging on his bed with a comic book, grumbles but gets up and hands it to you. “you know, you could get it yourself,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.“

“yeah, but then i’d miss out on this delightful conversation,” you shoot back, rolling your eyes.

there’s a pause, then mingyu sits down across from you, watching you work. 

it’s quiet, almost too quiet, and you can feel his eyes on you. 

finally, you break the silence.“so, uh, wonwoo told me about you and your girlfriend,” you say, trying to keep your tone casual.mingyu’s expression darkens a bit.

 “oh, he did, did he?”

“yeah. i just… i’m sorry. she didn’t deserve to know anyway,” you say, fumbling with the glue cap.

he raises an eyebrow. “didn’t deserve to know what?”

“that you’re… you know, still a virgin,” you mumble, avoiding his gaze.

mingyu sighs and leans back in his chair. “it’s not something i’m ashamed of, you know. it’s just… private.”

“yeah, i get it. people can be really judgmental about stuff like that,” you say, thinking back to high school again.

“like when you hadn’t kissed anyone yet,” mingyu says, reading your mind.

“exactly,” you say, smiling a little. “that day in the canteen… you really saved me from a lot of embarrassment.”

he chuckles. “i remember. your face was so red.”

“oh, shut up,” you laugh, throwing a balled-up piece of paper at him.

he catches it easily, tossing it back. “i just didn’t want them to make you feel bad. you didn’t deserve it.”

“neither do you,” you say softly. “i think i... can help if you want to,” you say softly, feeling your cheeks warm up.

mingyu looks at you, confusion flickering across his face. “help with what?”

you swallow, feeling a bit nervous but determined. “with, you know, the whole... virgin thing.”

his eyes widen, and he sits up straighter. “wait, are you saying...?”

“yeah,” you interrupt, feeling a bit more confident. “i mean, if you want to, that is. no pressure.”

mingyu is silent for a moment, processing what you just said. then he runs a hand through his hair, a nervous habit you’ve seen a hundred times. “why would you want to do that?”

“because you deserve someone who cares and won’t judge you,” you say simply. “and because... i trust you.”

he looks at you, searching your face for any hint of a joke or insincerity. finding none, he takes a deep breath. “are you sure? i mean, we’ve always just...”

“bickered? yeah, i know. but there’s more to us than that,” you say, moving closer to him. “i think we’ve always known that, deep down.”

mingyu’s eyes soften, and he reaches out to take your hand. “okay. i trust you too.”

you both sit there for a moment, holding hands and letting the reality of the situation sink in. then, with a small smile, you lean in and kiss him.

you lean in and kiss him, feeling the softness of his lips and the tentative way he kisses back. it’s gentle at first, but soon the kiss deepens, becoming more urgent. your hands move to his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the smooth skin of his chest.

you break the kiss, trailing your lips down his neck and across his chest. you plant a soft kiss on each of his nipples, hearing his sharp intake of breath, a soft moan escaping his lips. his embarrassment is endearing, but you can tell he’s enjoying it.

“relax,” you whisper, your voice a soft command. “just enjoy it.”

you continue your path downward, kissing and nibbling along his stomach, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. when you reach the waistband of his pants, you look up at him, seeing the anticipation and nervousness in his eyes. you slide his pants down, freeing him from the confines of his clothes.

taking him into your hand, you give him a reassuring smile before lowering your mouth to him. your tongue flicks out, tasting the saltiness of his skin, and you can feel him shudder. as you take him deeper into your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and suck gently, eliciting a deep moan from him.

his hand tangles in your hair, not guiding, just holding, as if he needs the connection to ground himself. you start to move, slowly at first, getting used to the feel of him in your mouth. your spit makes everything slick, and you can taste the faint hint of precum.

you take him deeper, trying to relax your throat as you push him further in. his hips jerk slightly, and you feel his breath hitch. your fingers trail along his length, adding to the sensation, and you glance up to see his eyes half-closed, mouth slightly open in pleasure.

as you increase your pace, taking him as deep as you can, you press a finger gently against the slit at the tip, preventing him from reaching his climax too soon. he groans, the sound desperate and full of need.

“please,” he whispers, his voice strained.

you pull back, letting him slip from your mouth. “not yet,” you murmur, climbing back up to straddle him. you align yourself with him, and with a slow, deliberate motion, you sink down onto him.

the feeling is intense for both of you, and you take a moment to adjust, watching the way his eyes widen with the new sensation. you start to move, rocking your hips in a steady rhythm. his hands find your waist, holding you as if he’s afraid you might disappear.

“god, you feel amazing,” he groans, his grip tightening.

you smile down at him, leaning forward to kiss him again. the kiss is hungry, filled with the heat of the moment. as you move faster, you can feel him getting closer, his breathing becoming more erratic.

you adjust your angle, finding that perfect spot that makes both of you see stars. his moans grow louder, and you can tell he’s right on the edge. you pick up the pace, wanting to give him an unforgettable first time.

“come for me, mingyu,” you whisper against his lips.

with a final, deep thrust, he cries out, his body shuddering as he reaches his climax. the feeling of him coming inside you sends you over the edge as well, and you ride out the waves of pleasure together.

you collapse onto his chest, both of you breathing hard, sweat-slicked and spent. he wraps his arms around you, holding you close, and you can feel his heart pounding against yours.

“that was...” he begins, but he doesn’t seem to have the words.

“unforgettable?” you suggest, smiling as you nuzzle into his neck.

“yeah,” he agrees, his voice full of awe and gratitude. “unforgettable.”

[daenysx]

imagine giving james a skincare sesh where reader is seated comfortably (on his lap ehm) and he lets her put all sorts of moisturizers, face masks and even lip balm on him and he secretly LOVES it and after they eat homemade cookies and watch their comfort show

thank you for requesting!! i had so much fun writing this, it's my skincare routine applied to james. i guess that means he's literally my boyfriend now (support my delusions please <3333) you can send me requests for james!

james potter x fem!reader, fluff

"are you ready?" you say, grinning. you carried most of your skincare essentials to living room, ready to give your tired boyfriend a nice spa day.

"yes." james walks out of the bathroom. "i washed my face."

"with the cleansing jel?"

"yes, baby." he sits on the couch next to you. you place yourself on his lap expertly, his face looks dry and clean. you lean to give him a kiss on his cheek, james settles down on couch with his back to pillows.

"okay." you say, clapping your hands. you're excited to give him a nice treating, he deserves all the best. you've never understood how boys have clear and smooth skin naturally, james certainly doesn't use as many products as you do, but he lets you do anything you want to him. skincare is like a therapy for you, quality minutes you spend on yourself. it's relaxing, taking care of your body without a single thought in your mind, you want james to experience it, too.

"let me just pull your hair back first." you say quietly, using tiny hairclips to secure his curls.

"why are you whispering?" he asks, whispering.

"i wanna create a relaxing ambience for you." you answer. "whispering is a part of it."

"oh." he teases. "okay."

you take your face toner in your hand, pouring some of it on a cotton pad. "close your eyes, jamie." you say, start applying it on his skin.

james relaxes into the pillow, his hands keep you balanced on his thighs. he likes how excited you get to take care of him, he likes being spoiled by you. your fingers are gentle on his face, almost invisible.

"now i'm gonna put on a face mask, handsome." you say, tearing the package of the mask. "it can feel a bit cold."

"that's okay." he mumbles. you place the mask on his skin carefully, adjusting the sides to cover his entire face. "what does this do?"

"um," you read the package. "it's for hydration mostly, and it has vitamin c in it."

"cool." he has no idea what vitamin c does for skin.

"we're gonna wait for 15 minutes." you say. "can i massage your hands while we wait?"

this must be some kind of special heaven for james. he gives you his hands blindly, you put on hand cream on the back of his hands and start rubbing it nicely on his skin.

james sometimes complains about how rough his hands feel, he washes them a lot and always neglects applying moisturizer. the cream feels good, like he has the skin of a baby now. you're being really sweet on him, he likes the way his muscles loosen up under your fingers.

"you're an angel." he says, a deep sound coming from his throat when you press a tight spot between his thumb and forefinger. "my fucking angel."

you smile, giving the same care to his other hand. james feels his hands go numb when you're finished. you clean the remnants of the cream on your hands before taking the mask off his face. "there you go." you put the used mask aside. "feels good?"

"i feel like a baby."

you laugh. "you're gonna be like a baby when i'm done."

it's a nice promise, james likes it very much. "i'm gonna apply some under eye cream now." you whisper. "you have no dark circles, i'm so jealous."

"it's because i actually have a sleeping schedule, lovely girl." he smiles. "something you lack, you know."

"hmm."

you massage his face a little bit before applying some moisturizer. you don't think any more products are needed for james, his skin is already perfect and the mask takes care of a lot of things. you want his face to be relaxed, so you keep your fingers on his cheeks. he smiles a lot, there are little lines on the corners of his lips and eyes that start forming. you can't help yourself, you kiss his lips softly. he immediately reacts but you pull yourself back, focusing on your work.

"what's the point of relaxing if i'm not gonna get a kiss?" james frowns.

"you'll get your kisses." you promise. "when i'm done."

applying moisturizer is so easy, his skin is glowing now. you make sure you cover every little spot on his face. "it smells good." he says. you nod even though his eyes are closed. "it really does." you say.

"and now," you put the cream away. "lip mask."

"lip mask?" james opens his eyes. "how will i kiss you if i have something on my lips?"

you laugh at his dramatics. "it never stopped you before. you always ruin my lipstick, remember?"

"not the same thing."

"come on, be a good boy for once." you tease. james parts his lips in shock. "once? this is a vile accusation."

you stop him, putting on a tiny bit of lip mask on his lips. he presses his lips together clumsily. "it tastes nice. is that strawberry?"

"you're not supposed to eat it!" you laugh. "leave some of it at least."

"mm, okay." he says. you fix his hair, and put a kiss on his cheek. you hand him the remote before leaving his lap. "i'm gonna bring you some cookies, can you pick a show?"

james nods, watches you clean up the mess through sleepy eyes. his skin has never felt this soft, he wants to pinch his own cheeks. he opens up the show you both like as he waits for you.

you come back with a plate full of cookies. james pulls you into his lap again. "i'm gonna eat just one." he says smugly. "i can't ruin my lip mask and i don't want crumbs on my face."

you laugh. "you're getting really good at this skincare thing."

"thanks to my angel." he says, he kisses your cheek three times. "i love you so much."

"i love you, too, baby." you say, your hand in his curls. "i can do it anytime you want."

"good, because i don't think i can go on without this anymore." he says like it's so obvious. "now, i remember i was promised kisses."

you settle down on his lap. "i don't wanna ruin your lip mask."

"it's not ruining, babe." he disagrees. "i'm willingly sharing my lip mask with you."

you laugh until your chest hurts.

[prettyboykatsuki]

✮  tags ; top + gn!reader (no desc of parts but reader is fucking him), unabashed daddy kink, implied verse, small age gap, bottom megumi, petnames (boy, baby) thorough discussion of megumis daddy issues in exactly the direction you think, 18+

✮ wc ; 1.3k

✮  a/n ; i haven't slept . im not responsible for anything. will not be taking questions at this time. 🫡

He's the prettiest thing you've ever seen in your life.

You tell him as much. He pretends to hate hearing it. Soft features bend at hard angles to convincingly drive in the fact that he detests it. Megumi is always like that. For the years you've known him - anything he's at risk of playing his hand too quickly, he retracts. You think that's why you're so addicted to getting him to let go.

He scowls, has the signature Zenin mean mug that almost makes the whole schtick convincing. You know better though. Maybe because you've known him since highschool, or maybe because you simply find him easy to read.

You've never met someone so touchstarved or so delicate all while being so, so mean. There's a lot Megumi can do but he's shit at hiding when something bothers him. When he's irritated, he's petulant and when he's pleased - you'd almost describe him as docile. In his own way. in the way a dog who used to cage fight could be.

You have an interesting relationship to Megumi. You're a stray just like him - with your family being a Zenin lapdog and you being their black sheep. You have a lot to relate on, but Megumi finds your attitude grating. Finds the harshness of your personality difficult, and finds the finesse you have for slaughter and violence to be nauseating.

It's probably why he makes wide, wet eyes at you whenever you're alone. Closes thing you have to someone to depend on with more experience. You're quick to appraise his work when you go on trips together. Despite your acting smug and Megumis frustration about your attitude, he soaks up the praise like a pretty little sponge. He's only a few years younger than you though, despite how he acts.

(Sometimes you think he wants the gap to be a little wider. )

A cute kid, only two years younger than you. Soft, striking green eyes. Soft lips. A mean little glare and spiky mop of black hair to compliment pale, cream colored skin. Megumi blushes easy, bruises even easier. His knees and elbows are a pretty cherry-blossom pink like something out of a movie scene.

The first time you fuck Megumi, its mostly because you're drunk and interested. It'd be stupid to not be interested in a face so pretty and desperate for approval.

All times after that are false happenstance. You make a routine of it - a silent game that makes it look like you're coercing him so he doesn't have to accept his own wants with any seriousness. You're cool with the ambiguity cause you're a little sick in the head. It's enough to fuck him, and sometimes when you're generous - to have him fuck you.

Megumi is pretty when he's being fucked. He changes his tune fast when his dick is a little hard and his guard is down - never thought that bratty little fucker could whine like he's in heat until you pulled the sounds out of his mouth yourself.

You always reaffirm how much he loves attention and praise and pampering when you fuck Megumi. He likes when you appraise him like that too. Soft compliments about his pretty little hole and the tightness of his waist. You manage it with relative ease. Makes your whole core throb just to see how much he twitches over something so slight and so easy. Such a mean fucking kid - such a brat, all welled up anger and abandonment issue.

Sometimes you wanna make him cry from him pain.

But most times, like now - you offer Megumi sweet pleasure. Give him that gentle, doting authority that he seems to fiend for. Desperate for reprieve in a way that stains his face, despite his attempts to brush it off.

Megumi takes dick like he was born for it. Slender fingers grip at your waist and claw at your back like he wants to rip you in half - tear you limb from limb but his legs wrap around your waist like he'd die if you left him for one fucking second. Megumi likes being full, you think. And he likes more when you praise him for taking your cock with such ease.

It's not rocket science to figure out he has some issues with authority. That distant relationship with his sensei and absent father make it obvious that he never wants to let anyone get too close. He could never really entertain certain relationships, he could never actually ask for approval. It's too little, too late.

Still, it surprises you a little when you first hear him say daddy. Not a lot, but enough that you pause in mid-thrust to stare at him a bit. He's mortified at the realization.

But you're not much less of a scumbag you figure, than all the figures in his life. You nod instead, feel arousal spark up in your stomach and claw it's way into your throat as you fuck him even harder.

("Daddy, huh?" You laugh because it's funny and you think the feeling of being so turned on you pass out is inappropriate. "Sure, baby. I'll be your daddy if you want." )

He doesn't say shit to you about it afterwards. Can barely look you in the during your post-sex aftercare and chat - though that conversation is never particularly romantic. You think the whole thing makes him want to die, so you don't really bring it up outside of a knowing look.

But it happens more often than that. Like a dam breaking, and something slips and now Megumi can't close it despite how desperate he seems to want too. It's not even that you're particularly into it at the start.

But well, he's pretty. Prettiest little thing you've ever seen in your life, even though he's tall and strong. He's got this grace that overwhelms you into fucking him dumb whenever you can. Try as you might, you will is not strong enough to not lust over someone like him calling you daddy. That level of unprecedented whining, the affection, the need in such an embarrassing word makes your feel so horny you can barely think.

So, it doesn't particularly surprise you when Megumi calls you daddy. Not anymore.

He's weepy in the face, somewhere in the distance - and he's still wearing his pajamas when you come see him. The scene is uncomfortably domestic between two people who aren't dating, but you don't really care either way. Megumi is pretty everywhere, but he's especially needy getting fucked on his kitchen counter sitting up to cling to you.

His arms around your shoulders, face drawn together with shameless embrassed. His cock is twitchy, leaking against the flat plane of his stomach with unbridled enthusiasm. He says it in a whisper today which you can't help but find cute.

It's raw in the back of his throat, mildly gravelly as his nails dig into your shoulders with an enthusiastic whine. "Daddy. Fuck, please, can't."

"What's daddy's boy want huh?" You say, obviously mocking - a hand wrapped around shaft with a thumb over his slit. Megumi shivers. Lets out a shameful moan at the word boy that makes you laugh hard, makes your head spin dizzy with lust.

"Wanna cum," He says, but doesn't beg. Doesn't know how and couldn't figure it out if you paid him. You've spoiled rotten after all. Filthy, really but he's prettier when he's acting precious. At least to you. "Make me cum, daddy please."

"Really milking it today, huh boy?" You chuckle and all he does is whimper. "Okay, okay. So fucking needy. Go on and cum, baby. Cum for daddy."

Megumi lets out a whine. A sound you barely knew he had in him as you say it that time and you laugh again and again as you bottom out. You watch him squirm as he finally finishes, back arching off the counter as the pleasure runs through him.

His face is still hazy when he comes down. Still beautiful in that way that makes you want to fuck him stupid and indulge for the rest of your life.

"Feel good, baby?"

He blushes faint and doesn't bother pushing you away. "Mm."

[mingtinys]

lost for words

pairing : lee jihoon x gn!reader

fluff , drabble , ultimate simp jihoon

warnings : none

word count : 0.6 k

requested ? no

a/n : this is what i imagine it would sound like if woozi wrote his own "shall i compare thee to a summers day"

Jihoon is nothing short of talented. A maestro amongst artists and a musical prodigy to his peers.

He can pluck strings until they sing and make his fingertips fly across piano keys in a way that makes them melt together into a symphony. He can breathe life into a school child's recorder that could charm a brewing storm and he can fit together words like a jigsaw to reveal a lyrical masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Trust, Jihoon has no qualms over his musical competence.

But how is it that he struggles to find any combination of words suitable to the occasion? Why now does his brain falter when it thinks of ways to encompass just how much he loves you? Not a dictionary in the world would be adequate enough to measure that of which he feels.

Because what he feels for you could not possibly be contained to ink on paper, you're much too special for something as archaic as that. Everything about you is so breathtaking. An enigma he's simply been blessed to experience in this lifetime. Jihoon could carve your likeness into crystal under the moonlight and it wouldn't be nearly as mesmerizing as the real thing.

Jihoon believes you outshine even the brightest stars against a jet-black sky. He'd choose the ones in your eyes to stare at for hours over the Milky Way in a heartbeat. Your voice sings a sweeter melody than Apollo's harp on a warm summer day. One he wishes he could capture and play on a loop for all of eternity. If all of history's greatest composers put their minds to one piece, still, they could not conduct a symphony worthy of your essence.

And, oh, how you call his name has him hearing bells. You light a fire inside him like flint dragged across steel— like a bow across strings. Your hand fits into his palm like the bout of a violin and he can't get enough of the harmony you bring to his life. Just your presence alone grounds him in ways he never knew possible.

When he kisses your lips, Jihoon can taste a song so decedent it leaves him full for days. Soft and delicate touches that crescendo into passion personified pluck at the strings of his heart in the late hours. The feeling of his arms around your waist as you sleep provides an indomitable security. Your even breaths fan against his collarbone like a lullaby, easing him to sleep. Then, when he wakes, you're still there, greeting him like a songbird.

You are his muse, his life, and everything more.

Jihoon understands now why so many of history's greatest ballads are written for lovers. Because the human language is a fickle thing. Always changing, never quite perfect, unsatisfactory in the eyes of man. Music lives on for centuries beyond their composers. It is, by all definitions of the word, immortal. There will always be someone to enjoy its tune and pass it down for years to come.

A song is but a time capsule of the memories that brought it to life. And Jihoon is not a man selfish enough to deny future generations of your beauty. He would write a song a day if it meant cementing your memory in history.

If only he could find the words.

"Are you ready?" Seungcheol's deep voice pierces through the thin silence.

"Not at all." Jihoon inhales as deeply as he can in his suit that feels one away thread from being too tight, then exhales slowly. The parchment with his vows crinkles and folds at the bend between his fingers.

The words in his palm are no soliloquy, but his heart bled them with every ounce of love he could muster through shaky hands. And the gold band on his finger is a gentle reminder he has a lifetime to spend writing ballads in your honor. There are only two words he needs to worry about right now.

I do.

[adore-laur]

sorry if there are any mistakes english is not my first language!

dadrry idea - harry and y/n together with the children go to a get-together at a restaurant with friends and family and in the middle of the get-together the younger baby starts crying with hunger just as the food arrives and harry goes out of his way to help y/n /n to eat while y/n breastfeeds, and to help the older baby eat too! you can add something if you want

——

You were at a new restaurant Harry had picked out for lunch, and you didn't know if it was the humidity in the air, but you had two incredibly fussy children wanting to make your first outing as a family of four a tricky one. The outdoor seating area was packed with people taking advantage of the weekend's beautiful weather. You counted yourself lucky to have found any available seating at all. You suspected Harry might have pulled a few strings since he knew the business and employees well, but he kept his lips tightly zipped.

Going to a restaurant used to be an untroubled experience before you had kids together. It was a simple sequence—sit down, order drinks and a meal, and talk without any disruptions. When the first baby came, supervising a newborn in any public place hadn't been without its fair share of stressful moments. Many trips to the bathroom to breastfeed or change a diaper made you feel prickly with anxiety. There was also the crippling fear of your baby having a piercingly loud meltdown and potentially annoying the people around you. It was why you relied on Harry to make these trips with you, whether it was grocery shopping, a stroll through the park, or going out to eat. You needed him to be the calming force. You needed his gentle methods of diffusing the cries.

When the second baby came along while your first was at the peak toddler stage, the mere thought of going to a restaurant or the store by yourself was daunting. Horrible thoughts battered your brain, like: What if a temper tantrum happens? What if I lose one of them? What if they get kidnapped right in front of my eyes? Progressively, the thoughts became more unrealistic, but they successfully kept you from venturing out alone with the two vulnerable halves of your heart. You wouldn't risk their safety by selling yourself as overconfident in terms of your motherly capabilities.

Now, you had your toddler incessantly saying "mom" while your three-month-old newborn squirmed in your arms, quietly whimpering near your breast and awfully close to making her cries known to every single person in the restaurant. Harry sat across from you, your eldest by his side with an abandoned coloring sheet crumpled in front of her. Phase One of her tantrum involved throwing a fit over the restaurant not providing a magenta-colored crayon. She whined and sulked until Harry set her on his lap and distracted her by having her recite the colors of the rainbow in order. It worked, but only for a moment.

Phase Two was when you were dragged into it. You had been to blame for her coloring sheet disaster, and while you simply told her that magenta wasn't a common color, she knocked over her sippy cup in protest of your reasonable explanation. She expected you to have the answer to every question in the universe.

Phase Three was happening right now. Her desperate attempts to get your attention were needling under your skin and whittling away at your patience. The meals hadn't been served yet, and the hunger and heat you felt were like little volcanoes waiting to erupt. One more spike of overstimulation, and you'd lose the last shreds of your poise.

You shifted in your seat, and when your newborn let loose that first wail, you stared at the cloudless sky and swallowed roughly. When you looked back down, you saw Harry eyeing you with steady focus. He knew the exhaustion was catching up. Last night had been full of anxiety and insomnia, which never paired well. It was a rarity that you were able to muster the energy to step out of the house today.

"Do you want to go to the car?" Harry asked, knowing the telltale signs of a hungry baby all too well.

You shook your head. "I can feed her right here."

He grabbed the nursing cover from under the stroller and handed it to you. Your eldest was stretching her limbs impatiently, still on his lap, and you were counting down the seconds until she became overwhelmed too.

After putting the nursing cover on and letting your baby latch, the food arrived. It looked delectable, but your appetite had somehow vanished within the past ten minutes. With the mind-body connection, you assumed your stress and frazzled hormones were messing with your stomach.

While you held the baby, Harry stabbed his fork into your tossed salad and brought a serving of iceberg lettuce and cherry tomatoes up to your mouth. "Eat," he said softly.

You could handle small bites, so you accepted his offering and munched on the crispy vegetables. It was a meal just light enough to settle nicely.

Back and forth, Harry fed you, his eldest, and also himself. She was calmer now, more interested in her kid-size chicken tenders than whatever she was angry about. In her floral summer dress and pigtails, she was a cute little menace. The toddler stage was chaotic, but in the best way.

Your mind drifted to Harry as you watched him make your daughter laugh with his silly antics, her lips no longer pouting. He had the dad thing down pat when his girls got fussy, yet he always checked in with you first to make sure you were all right. He knew your emotions lingered longer than a child's brief outburst, so you appreciated his attentiveness now more than ever.

After lunch, which had thankfully been peaceful once everyone's bellies were full, you all walked along the nearby Santa Monica coast to soak up the sunshine and refreshing ocean breeze.

Harry had the baby cuddled against his chest in a sling, which was a miracle worker for nap time, while you pushed the stroller with a nearly asleep toddler in it. You guessed tantrums were exhausting sometimes—hopefully, that meant the car ride home would be serene.

"Harry," you said from beside him. He never liked walking in front of or behind you. "Thank you for earlier."

He glanced over, practically glowing under the sun's mild presence. "What did I do?"

With a smile reserved just for him, you answered, "You take care of us." Guilt got the best of you when you added, "And I'm sorry for not being able to step up to the plate."

It consumed you in your weakest moments, but you didn't have to deal with it alone. Harry was there to shoulder it and shelf it for later.

"Sweetheart, you're the one who gave me these babies," he said, reaching his hand out for yours. You took it, and you instantly felt grounded. "You're the one who keeps them fed and growing healthy. You will always be the most important person to them."

"It's hard to believe it sometimes."

Harry squeezed your hand three times. "Then I'll be here to remind you every day. We'd be lost without you."

——

[nomazee]

EVENT TIME EVENT TIME

how about.. 4:44am & dr. ratio? 🫡

AUGHH THANK U GWEN i lvoed writing ths..... first time writing dr ratio be gentle on my fragile soul

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

When Doctor Veritas Ratio walks into his very-private, very-locked, very-secluded study, he’s greeted with the unfortunate sight of you—sitting on the floor, an easel with a wide canvas set up low to the ground, oil paints sprawled absolutely everywhere. 

“What the hell are you doing?”

A sheepish smile pulls at your face, as if a sweet expression will get you out of the mess you’ve made of Ratio’s personal space. It’s far too late— late? Too early? Regardless. The hour of the night-slash-morning that you’ve decided to paint in his room is not appropriate at all. 

“I can explain,” you say, followed by a complete lack of an explanation as the two of you stew in silence for another half a minute. 

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” Ratio scoffs, stepping around you and your hazardous art set-up as he places some irrelevant stack of books on his (thankfully untouched) desk. “You should’ve been in bed a long time ago. Soon you’ll experience delirium from lack of sleep.” 

“Oh, please,” you argue, swatting a hand in his general direction playfully as you turn back to your canvas. It’s full of nauseating color, clear shapes and lines that don’t blend together in the slightest, vague animal-like forms that overlap with each other. “You’re awake too, aren’t you? Unless I really did hit delirium, and you’re just some Veritas-ghost floating around in my subconscious.” 

Ratio does not get a kick out of your very funny joke. An annoyed huff escapes him, tainted with something like weariness and exhaustion. Your eyebrow twitches. 

“And to answer your first question,” you prattle on, mindlessly scrubbing dried paint from the side of your hand with a wet rag, before picking up a fan brush, “I’m painting. This room is really well-ventilated, which is nice, because it would be a shame if all the fumes got to my head and zapped away my few remaining brain cells.” 

That one gets a laugh out of him, probably because it’s at the expense of your own intelligence. 

“There are a hundred other rooms that are exactly the same as mine,” he argues, finally turning away from his pointless shuffling of materials on his desk and facing you, looking at you while he talks to you—you know, like a normal person would. “There was no reason to infiltrate my own private study for your… painting. The door was locked, too. How did you—” 

“Don’t ask silly questions, Veritas,” and you like the way each consonant of his name clicks against your lips and teeth and tongue, “I have my ways. Does it bother you that I’m defiling your good room with my frivolous fine arts endeavors?” 

“Ridiculous,” his face screws up in displeasure at your assumption that he’d be so elitist to deny you of your passion. He walks around your spread of supplies again, carefully, before kneeling by your side to watch you work. As much as he’s loath to admit, you’re one of his few soft spots, and it shows in the way he traces the lines of your paint with his gaze, and the fact that he has yet to kick you out of his room. “The humanities are just as important as any other field.” 

“Spoken like a true scholar,” you quip, trying to hold back the shakiness of your hands and the swaying of your body. It really is too late for this, but you’d slept through the day and felt much too awake by midnight. Setting up camp in Ratio’s room was a natural instinct. 

“Go to bed,” he says, commanding yet gentle as he tugs a paintbrush from your hand. He doesn’t touch your hands, never really does, but he’s gathering your scattered, wrung-out tubes of paint and the little containers of linseed oil hidden under the easel. “It does neither you nor your artwork any good to be exhausted.” 

“I’m not even tired!” you complain, dragging out your words in a whine as he nudges you with his foot in a wordless command to stand up. There’s something like a cot in the corner of his room (because he does sleep, sometimes, and often it’s between textbooks and files and loose leaf paper) and a cozy patterned blanket that’s definitely yours. 

“You will be tired the second your head hits the mattress.” 

“This is a really awful mattress, Ratio.” 

“Don’t complain,” and his tone is harsh but you know he doesn’t mean it, because he’s pushing you back onto the little sleeping corner and tucking you into the blanket, nothing short of kindness in his hands. “You still have to clean your mess in the morning.” 

Sure, you think, already drifting off. By the time you wake up, you know that your mess will be packed away in a neat pile, floor wiped clean and canvas propped safely against the wall.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or my general taglist (navigation) to be tagged in upcoming works!

[alexlwrites]

𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐞𝐬

✿𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: OT7 x Plus Size! Reader

✿ 𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: "What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?"

OR  

The one where seven campus princes who are used to getting everything they wanted get enchanted by your distrust and brattiness, climbing over each other to get a smile from you who could not be bothered to give them a single second of your day.

✿ 𝑻𝒂𝒈𝒔:  Romance, Humor, Fluff, Angst, College AU

✿ 𝑨/𝑵: I wanna leave this here as sort of a trigger warning: this work features a plus size main character and throughout the story there will be mean comments from characters about her body and her journey dealing with said comments. A lot of it comes from my own experience as a (now ex-ish) plus size girl myself and my path to living peacefully within my body. And although this work is about Y/N's relationship with the boys, I like to think that she still would've continued to grow and blossom happily on her own. Let this be something you learn from this fic, as I say right on the first chapter: You don't have to love the way you look right away, you just can't let it stop you from doing the things you want and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

Thank you for reading <3

P.S: Red daisies, like many red flowers, represent love and romance. Florists often use them to communicate affection to someone who doesn’t know how beautiful they are—a.k.a. beauty unknown to the possessor. 

(Fanfic masterlist)

(support me on my ko-fi)

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐒𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

The pattern in your relationships - if you could call them that - was tiring, to say the least. Once, they might have been soul crushing, but time and repetition took away the novelty of your pain and now the endgame was a mild, resented disappointment.

It started with kindness and a gentle smile, mainly from your part. You treated anyone who gave you any smidgen of attention with the utmost sweetness, hoping your energy would be matched. And sometimes it was, for a while. Sometimes you got to be on the receiving end of a blinding smile or a casual touch and you allowed yourself to hope - no, pray -that that could be it. That someone, some modern day knight in shiny armor , saw through your looks and decided that you were deserving of love, despite societal norms,

But men had a way of setting you up for disappointment. A talent, truly.

You were tired, you decided that night. No, beyond that, you were exhausted, scarred, bitter, hopeless, resentful… You could keep going. You could list every bad feeling you had been carrying in your chest by alphabetical order or by how badly they hurt and honestly you just wanted it to stop.

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy, you wondered watching the boy you had been seeing for a few weeks make fun of you in front of his circle of friends at the party you were both at. Would you never be allowed to be happy just the way you were?

Would you have to change everything about your body to be happy?

“Yeah, she’s nice” Junsuu said, winking suggestively at his giggling friends “if you know what I mean.” you felt your face heat up in humiliation at the renewed round of laughter “But we just don’t match, like, physically. You know, looks-wise.”

“Right” someone agreed way too enthusiastically, sending a spear through your heart “I really just can’t see you with someone like her.”

What was so outrageous about someone like you, you asked yourself and the universe. You had tried your best to compensate for any shortcomings with everything else that was expected of you: femininity, understanding, a sense of humor. Never enough, those were never even the first thing that came to mind when people thought of you.

Why bother then? If nothing you did made any difference at all, why try? If people hated your body just for existing, why not give them a reason to hate your personality as well?

“You’re right” you said out loud, drawing attention to yourself. Filled with hatred (for him, the world, the circumstances), your heart had no room to be mortified when all eyes turned to you “we don’t match.”

You watched as Junsuu’s eyes widened, clearly not expecting you to hear, much less reply “I am a big girl” you continued, words dripping with rage “And I know for a fact that there’s nothing big about you.”

You turned around to leave the room, cringing at the petty comeback, ignoring the murmurs and Junsuu’s panicked calls of your name. Walking fast, you fled the scene of the last heartbreak you would allow yourself to go through, deciding that a change was needed, but not the change everyone wanted from  you.

Despite the rumors, you didn’t turn into a huge bitch overnight, didn’t start kicking puppies or spitting on the poor. Truly, the only thing you did was establish boundaries and reevaluate the amount of respect some people deserved, but very quickly people started seeing you as some sort of villain, especially when they realized how little you cared for how they saw you. How disrespectful of you to not allow yourself to be disrespected, right?

At first, there was still an air of uncertainty about you - years and years of non-reciprocal niceties drilled into your brain, habits hard to quit. But the more you let go of those things, these tiny acts of self-aggression disguised as pleasantries and altruism, the lighter you felt; Your days became easier to get through, existing within your body felt less and less like a punishment. You had yet to reach an Instagram-worthy level of body positivity, but you had become accustomed to body neutrality. You didn’t have to love the way you looked right away, you just couldn’t let it stop you from doing the things you wanted and, in a greater scale, from being happy and treated with respect.

And respect you started to demand and much happier you became, living in relative peace and solitude - safe by a few close friends - up until your days started being pestered by seven headaches you could not seem to shake away.

—-

Jungkook was the one that saw you first.

It was 3 weeks into the semester and he finally decided it was the perfect time to start going to classes, sitting in the back and only listening to about 25% of what was being said, mind floating towards more important subjects such as the package of ramen waiting for him at home. Only mildly interested in what the professor had to teach, he couldn’t help but to be startled when everyone started getting up from their seats to shuffle around the room. “What’s going on?” he asked the guy sitting next to him.

“Professor gave us a duo assignment.” the other man said, standing up “You're with Y/N.”

“Who?”

The guy just pointed towards you with his chin, redirecting Jungkook’s attention before leaving. You were sitting a couple rows further down, hunched over your little green IPad as you wrote something with impressive velocity. Jungkook walked over to you, already mentally going over what he would have to do to charm you into doing everything on your own “Y/N?” he called and you raised your head.

You were pretty, he noticed with satisfaction, all bright eyes and lovely features, curves everywhere he looked “Yes?”

“I’m Jungkook.” he extended his hand with a casual smirk “The professor put us together for this project.”

There had been a small, but pleasant and polite smile on your face up until he said those words, replaced by pursed lips and an arched brow. “Yes, I know. We’ve had classes together for over a year now and been partnered together before.”

Uh oh. “Right” he coughed awkwardly, fumbling under your hardened stare “so, about this project…”

“We will meet once a week,” you said, straightforward as you turned your eyes back to your sticker-filled IPad “I will go over the theme and split the work evenly, so give me your number and I can text you with what you’re supposed to do.”

“Woah, woah, asking for my number already?” he said in a flirting manner, sitting on top of your table so he could be directly in front of you.

“Would you prefer it if I emailed it to you?” you asked without looking up.

“Actually, I was thinking you could help me out a bit,” he placed his finger under your chin, raising your face towards him “you know I have soccer practice and…”

You pushed his hand away “Unless you’re playing at the World Cup, I can’t see how that would be more important than your studies, so you either do your part of the assignment or get an F in it, I don’t care. I won’t do all the work for you, Jeon. Not again.”

Again? Jungkook winced, trying to remember when you had met before. Surely he would remember getting his head bitten off by a snappy, pretty thing like you, wouldn’t he? Surely your attitude would stand out to him amongst all the sweetness and compliance he received just for existing and smiling.

“Here’s my number.” you gave him a piece of paper with your digits written in gel sparkly ink “Text me when you decide if you want to pass this class. Good day.” 

You looked down again, going back to your notes, signing that the conversation was over before he even had the chance to add anything more. He jumped off the desk and stepped away, looking back to see if you were looking at him, but there wasn’t a single glance from your part.

Shit. Shit. He actually did have to pass this class, otherwise his overbearing soccer coach would kick him off the team. He stared down at your number, wondering what he would have to do to get you to cut him a little slack and forgive him for absolutely forgetting about your existence. 

—

“Hey, this is Jungkook” the text from an unknown number said “looking forward to us working together. We should get dinner sometime, get to know each other better.”

You read over the text once more, willing your heart to slow down its beating. Sure, Jungkook was charming and handsome, but you had seen this dance before. He would talk his way into your good graces, making you laugh and giggle until you had a four thousand word essay done with both your names in it and your texts to him would go unanswered and unseen. 

This was not your first hurtful rodeo. You put your phone away, facing down, ignoring as the poor device vibrated itself off the table with the upcoming texts.

Meanwhile, across campus, Jungkook was fuming.

“Or breakfast. We should get breakfast. I know a great place.” he tried once again, but his message was left unread. Still, he persisted.

“I have a lot of great ideas for this assignment. Don’t you want to know them?” he texted, even though he didn’t have the faintest idea on what the assignment was even about.

“You know, it’s rude to leave a guy hanging.”

“How can we do this if you won’t even text me back?”

“I thought we were in this together.”

“You know, like High School Musical.”

He kept typing out absurdity after absurdity, hoping you would dignify one with an answer. He just needed one opportunity, one opening…

His text stopped going through.

“She blocked me!” he gasped out loud.

“Who?” his roommate, Taehyung asked from where he laid on their couch, feet up on the coffee table.

“This girl in my class. We have this project together and she blocked me!”

Taehyung sent a disbelieving look his way “Were you actually planning to do the work?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Obviously not.”

His friend rolled his eyes “Obviously not. So what’s your plan here?”

Jungkook didn’t answer, too busy looking for alternative ways to contact you. After a few minutes of research, he found your Instagram. You were cute, he noticed again, scrolling through your few posts, all relatively recent. You had a very specific style, a tasteful mix or dark and edgy with splashes of pink and bows, tight corsets under leather jackets that he couldn’t help but stare appreciatively, the flattering material clinging to your waist line and pushing your breasts up, exposing the soft freckled top of cleavage to his always hungry eyes. In your pictures, your eyes shone brightly, crinkling at the sides from your ever present smile and he could not understand why you hadn’t directed one of those to him. 

It was unsettling, to say the least, but he could not allow his annoyance to take over. He needed your help if he wanted to pass that class and if he had to use unconventional ways to get your attention, he would. 

And so, much like a little boy pulling at a girl’s braids, he started liking and spamming the comments of every single post you had.

—

There were whispers all around you, your worst nightmare.

You were at the school library, getting work done while drinking from your fourth cup of coffee, hands shaking due to caffeine and anxiety, your ever present friends. You tried to focus on your books and carefully written notes, but every word you could barely hear and every look you felt over your shoulder seemed to dig claws into your skin. You knew what they were saying. You heard it all the way from your dorm to your classes and couldn’t seem to escape them. 

“Did you see Jungkook’s comments on her pictures? What’s that about?”

“It’s not like there’s a lot to comment, is there?” 

“Maybe he thought it was someone else?”

“It’s probably a prank.”

“I bet he was hacked.”

Of course, why else would someone like Jungkook - a campus prince, popular soccer player, heartthrob - show interest in you? 

It hurt, but a small part of you still agreed with those mean spirited whispers. You closed your eyes, trying to even your breathing and will those thoughts away. You knew better, had learned better than to measure your value by how interested some boy was in you.

When you opened your eyes again, Jungkook was in front of you.

You barely had time to process his presence when the voices picked up volume, your skin prickling and eyes aching to remain dry. 

“What’s Jungkook doing with Fat Y/N?”

That word shouldn’t be as hurtful as it was - after all, it was just an adjective, just the current state of your body that served only to carry your thinking mind, your feeling heart. But people always said it like a curse, wielding it like a sword.

You closed your eyes again and when you opened once more, Jungkook was still there. Looking furious.

“What are they saying?”

“What they always said” you shrugged, avoiding his eyes by looking down at your papers.

Jungkook didn’t move for a while, hearing people pretend to whisper around you but it was clear that the motherfuckers wanted you to hear. Was it always like this for you, he wondered, watching as you focused on whatever book you had in front of you, hunched over with tense shoulders, your face a far cry from the luminescent one he saw on your Instagram, not a hint of that smile he wanted directed at him so unreasonably.

He couldn’t just stand there and watch you struggle to keep your posture. 

You felt him standing up and leaving more than you saw him. Good, you thought. He should leave, like everyone did, scared away by that one word that followed you around like a brand. He was probably embarrassed to be seen with you, you assumed bitterly, and there was no place in your life for people who didn’t want you proudly by your side…

Jungkook sat back in the chair in front of you and you couldn’t help but gape at the impressive bouquet of red daisies he extended towards you.

“Take it” he said, but you couldn’t move, could barely hear the furious voices around you over the roaring beat of your heart.

You… You had never gotten flowers. 

“Take it” he repeated “I almost got run over because of this, the least you can do is accept it.”

“Jungkook” you whispered, dumbfoundedly accepting the bouquet “what’s this?”

“People keep doubting I could be interested in you” he said and there was an edge to his tone you did not expect “maybe this could help clear up some rumors.”

“This is not your battle to fight” you held the flowers close to your chest carefully, looking up at him with distrust, unable to understand his motives “I’m used to this sort of thing and I don’t care about those stupid rumors.”

You were used to it? That just made Jungkook angrier. How could you be used to that sort of treatment? 

Jungkook was a lot of things - spoiled, a little lazy, sometimes a dick. But he wasn’t a bigot and he wasn’t about to stand around and let you become used to being disrespected if there was something - anything! - he could do about it “I like picking up fights”.

“Is this just pity?” you asked and he could see walls around you that stood thousands of feet tall “Is this because of that stupid assignment? Because I’m not going to do all the work just because you got me some flowers…” 

He raised his hands and smiled at you “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ll do my work” he said, a new goal in mind as he saw you recoil from him with eyes filled with wariness like a suspicious kitten “You said once a week, right? How’s friday for you?” 

You still clung to your bouquet like a lifeline “That works, I guess.”

“Great!” he clapped loudly, standing up and catching the eye of those around him “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart” you mumbled, but he pretended not to hear as he crossed the table around to your side, quickly leaving a kiss to your heated cheek before you had the chance to react.

“Alright, sweetheart, I’ll see you around” he said, making sure everyone in the library could hear him “do me a favor and unblock me, ok?”

You flipped him off, both for stealing a kiss and that stupid nickname, but he just laughed it off.

“That’s my girl” he said and the library erupted in renewed whispers.

°•. ✿ .•°

𝐌𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! 𝐂𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝

°•. ✿ .•°

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