#i have been suicidal for a long while and usually it only comes out in my writing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deepdarkdelights · 7 months

Text

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.

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

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

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

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

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

And, to your surprise, it was working.

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yoongi knew you.

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

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

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

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

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

The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss.

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

This was not good.

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

Out of sight, out of mind.

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

Out of sight, out of mind.

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

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

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

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

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

Out of sight, out of mind.

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was looking at you like you were dumb.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

But your husband was dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That, that confuses me.” He admitted.

“What?!” You cried in exasperation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?”

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

He nodded.

“Are there…are there more of you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I understand you, he wanted to say.

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

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

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

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

“I’ll leave you to your work.”

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s never been a problem before,”

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

“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat.

No. No, you refused to believe it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t know him?”

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

“Was he going to eat me?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, there was one constant with her.

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

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

It was a silent “not yet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yoongi!” You called.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can do both, dearest.”

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

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

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

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

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

The silence that followed was deafening.

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

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

“Yoongi,” You whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I can’t, not here.” You repeated.

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

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

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

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

There it was again.

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

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

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

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

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

Out of sight, out of mind.

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I didn’t lock you up-”

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

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

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

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

“I have every right, you are mine!”

“I am not!”

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

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

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

“You killed him, didn’t you?”

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

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

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

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

“He wouldn’t!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He had trapped you once again.

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sorry, mama.” She repeated.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Binna wasn’t yours.

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

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

The door shut and the lock clicked.

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

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

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

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

“No.” He simply said.

“You’re not being fair -”

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

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

“I am not Binna’s mother.”

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

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

“You are her mother.”

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

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

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

You didn’t know how to respond.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The door shut, the lock clicked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You didn’t even give me the choice.”

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

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

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

~~~~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

That couldn’t be right? Crimes?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was absolute chaos.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I am no witch-“

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

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

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

Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.

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

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

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

They were going to burn you alive.

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

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

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

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

The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision.

“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.

Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath.

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone.

But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you.

Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight.

The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place.

In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening.

It was Yoongi.

The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you.

The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace.

“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash.

“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.”

His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him.

Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe.

You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men.

“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again.

You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.

Help them.

Help them?

Help them?!

You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of?

Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone.

You didn’t need other humans.

“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder.

“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Kill them all.”

You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss.

“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers.

In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves.

You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color.

You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws.

You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.

You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced.

Out of sight, out of mind.

#bts x reader #min yoongi x reader #yandere #yandere bts #yandere yoongi #bts fanfic #yandere yoongi x reader #yandere kpop #yandere bts x reader #werewolf yoongi #werewolf yoongi x reader #yandere werewolf yoongi #yandere werewolf yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #yandere werewolf #werewolf bts #werewolf bts x reader

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eimids · 7 months

Text

Your worst enemy

Arsenal x reader

Reder is suffering with depression and doesn’t want her teammates to know.

Warnings: depression, mention of suicide (nothing happens tho), HEAVY on the angst, hurt/comfort?

words: around 3k

Your thoughts had been spiraling for a while, first you didn’t even realize it. Starting with only tiredness and some not so good days. You just brushed then off.

Your depression wasn’t back, it couldn’t be it.

Last time it got so bad that you were almost hospitalized. So this time it couldn’t get to that point. You changed your whole life after your last depressive episode. You changed from Manchester United to Arsenal. You cut contact with toxic people in your life, especially your ex.

But without you even realizing, it became more severe. Not having any energy, going to sleep at 9pm and sleeping for almost 12 hours every day. You were also getting irritated really easily. If something didn’t go your way, you were ready to fight (and cry). Practice was the only moment you had to be energetic. You couldn’t let things affect football. You didn’t want to be with your teammates, the bonding nights only seemed like a lot of work to keep a happy surface.

During best days, everything felt almost normal. But just almost. Something felt always off. Sounds were too loud, lights were too brightbut you were happy. You were supposed to be happy. Why couldn’t you just be happy. Everything was good, what did you have in your life for you to be depressed? Absolutely nothing.

You tried your best to not let anyone notice but you failed miserably. Alessia was the first one to notice and tried subtly to talk to you about it. You were closest to her at Arsenal. You transferred with her from Manu so you knew each other from there. Although you were only 19 you and Less where getting along really well. After practice she offered to grab coffee with you, then have a nice girlsnight with her.

“Oh it’ll be fun. We can just go to my apartment to watch some movies and order your favorite food” The older woman tried to convince you.

You were hesitant at her suggestion. After the long day you were already overwhelmed and tired. You just wanted to sleep away the never ending tiredness. You hadn’t had even that long day. Only practice and recovery. Then some quick media stuff. But even that made you exhausted. Wanting to just rot away in your bed you made some excuse for Less.

“I’m sorry i’m just really tired today and I’m gonna have to call to my parents about them coming to visit” You said as casually as you could.

Lessi almost believed it, but she knew something deeper was going on. She’d seen you get more and more tired during the last months and she didn’t really know what to do about it.

“You know you can always talk to me if you have something on your mind?” Less blurted out.

You were pondering your options. You could say that things were ok and not to worry about you. But you could also confess the hard truth. Your depression was back. But Less would have to tell that to Leah and Kim, who were obligated to tell Jonas and the team management.

“I know Less, but I’m doing okay” You said and smiled. Then you just grabbed your kitbag and left the training grounds.

It was already 8pm and it was getting dark. You still didn’t have your drivers license so you couldn’t drive by yourself. You could ask a lift from one of your teammates but most of them had left or were still doing media. Uber felt useless waste of money so you decided to walk home. It was only four kilometers so it wasn’t anything too bad. You started your walk on the quiet roads of England. There was some pubs and bars you walked past to. Hearing the usual catcalls from some gross old men. You tried to ignore them you put your music louder in your headphones and continued walking.

Your phone was on ‘do not disturb’ mode as you continued your walk. You didn’t really notice anything around you. Not even truly caring about anything. You just wanted the numbness and tiredness to go away. Somehow you managed to get to your apartment. You took your shoes off and walked straight to your bed. Not caring that you were still wearing your day clothes. Your apartment was a mess so you didn’t even bother to look for any other clothes.

The next day you woke up and it was already 10am. Another 12 hours had passed with your sleeping. You knew you were going to be late but still didn’t bother to get up. You decided to check your phone only to find 3 missed calls from Less and texts.

Lessi🤍

8.47pm

Viv said you didn’t ride with her back home? Don’t say you walked! I could’ve driven you home..

9.12pm

Please answer to me that you are okay y/n. I just want to know you got home safely.

10.39pm

I really hope you are already asleep at your house. I’m worried please call me when you can.

You were alarmed when you heard something from your kitchen. You quickly got up and went to look for the sound. Your kitchen was cleaned, the living room was cleaned, what was happened.

Alessia. She stood there in your kitchen making you breakfast. You were confused about everything even though you had given Less your spare keys.

“Morning y/n, we need to have a talk” Less just said. Clearly not happy.

“Well yeah, you can’t just show up to my apartment” You answered.

“Yea I can when I’m worried sick about you. I asked almost everyone on the team if they had taken you home but no. Did you walk home? You can’t be that reckless, something could’ve happened. So when you didn’t answer I decided to come over to see what’s going on. I’m glad I found you safely home, sleeping” Less started her lecture.

“I didn’t walk” You lied. “I ordered an uber and got home safely” You continued with the lies. You could see the anger and worry on Alessia’s face turn to guilt. “I was tired and didn’t want to bother anyone so I just ordered the uber. You don’t have to worry about me Less, I’m okay” You said with a smile. You were trying to be convincing although all that came from your mouth was lies.

“Oh i’m so sorry y/n. I don’t know what got to me but you’ve been acting weird lately and I just got so worried when you didn’t answer. Maybe I should get going, I’m sorry again” Alessia said and started to grab her things.

You stopped her by hugging her. You weren’t mad at her, although you didn’t want her to be worried about you, I felt nice to know that she cared about you. “You can stay Less, have breakfast with me” You said to her softly.

So she did. You ate your breakfast in a comfortable silence and then talked about your next match that you were going to have in couple days. You were supposed to leave to Manchester later that day. After you ate, Less grabbed her stuff again and left. You were happy with yourself that you convinced her that everything was okay.

You and Alessia both missed the team meeting of that morning but were on time to get to your bus to leave to Manchester. You got a little lecture from Jonas but didn’t really care. Wasn’t the first time.

On the bus most of your teammates were on the back of the bus listening to music and chatting. You however were sitting in the front. Headphones in listening to Taylor Swift and trying to sleep. It wasn’t hard with how exhausted you were. Sleep came nowadays always easily.

At some point you were woken by Kim sitting next to you. You tried to just act like you were sleeping but the skipper knew better.

“I know you’re awake y/n. Why don’t you come to the back of the bus with the others and have some fun, you have missed a lot of team bonding nights lately and the girls miss your company” Kim stated to you. You could hear Katie singing in the back of the bus and laughed a little.

“Okay I can come for a while. But I really need my beauty sleep” You tried to joke. Kim laughed a little before walking back to her seat. You followed her and were welcomed with teasing from your teammates.

“Well good to see you y/l/n, feels like I haven’t seen you in ages” Katie teased as she saw you walking to the back of the bus. “Come sit next to me” She continued.

You really didn’t want to hear the teasing from Katie but decided to still take the seat next to her. In front of you were Beth and Viv. In the next booth of four were Less, Leah and Kyra. Music was blasting and you saw as Katie was filming a tiktok about the her day. She filmed you in it with the something along ‘She’s alive’. You smiled for the camera but actually you wanted to cry. You were tired af the teasing. You were tired of everyone fussing about you. Why couldn’t you just enjoy some peace and quiet.

You zoned out for a while and next thing you realize was that Leah was gently waking you up.

“Wake up sleepy” Leah said quietly and smiled to you.

“Oh sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep” You said while looking around. Everyone else had left the bus, you were at your hotel.

Leah just hummed and helped you get your stuff and then walked with you to the entrance. Your teammates were sorting out rooms. You were hoping to get a room for yourself all alone. When you’re name was called at last you found out that you were paring with Leah. Kim and Leah changed looks that you didn’t notice.

Some of your teammates, mainly Viv, Beth and Less had went and talked to your skippers about your weird behavior. They had all noticed the signs of depression. Especially Less who had known you when you had your latest episode. They had made a small plan to get you to talk. Leah would be rooming with you, Kim would encourage you to be more with the other girls. Viv and Beth where just like parents who took notice about your behavior and made sure that you took care of yourself. They didn’t want to talk to you yet about it. They want you to come talk to them, or to anyone at that matter.

The rest of the day was a blur. You had a practice on the pitch, some recovery in cold pool, dinner. At practice you were almost benched because you were playing recklessly. Taking stupid risks and tackling people. A lot of your tackles were not even towards others, more so you could get yourself hurt. They were stupid and you knew it but just didn’t care.

After dinner your head was a mess. You felt overwhelmed and you couldn’t really take a notice of your surroundings. Kyra was walking next to you to the elevator. For the next couple of hours you were supposed to spend time with your teammates. You knew you had to show your face there for people not to get suspicious but you were in a bad mental state and just wanted to be alone. You walked hand in hand to the meeting room where pretty much everyone was in already. You smiled and talked for a while before trying to make an excuse to leave.

“Don’t leave yet, you just came here” Viv said to you. Trying to find someone else in the room who was in on the plan. She saw Leah and waved her over.

“I’m just not really in a mood to be here, I was thinking about having a shower and just going to sleep” You answered. Not having the energy to make up excuses.

“Y/n it’s not even 6pm, can’t you just stay here with us for a little while longer?” Leah asked hopefully.

Everything was just too much for you. The music in the background, Leah and Viv asking too many questions. Your breathing started to pick up pace. You knew that if you didn’t get away now, you would most likely end up having a panic attack. So you left. Without a word to Leah or Viv. You just turned around and walked away. You ran to your room and quickly closed the door. You fell to the ground and couldn’t help the tears in you eyes starting to spill.

You hated it, hated it all. You hated your mind for not being normal. You hated yourself for not accepting help from the other who clearly were just worried about you. You hated your teammates for trying to help. You hated the feeling in your head that just didn’t go away. You just hated it all.

Leah and your other teammates decided to give you some time for a while. Letting you calm down. But they all knew that they needed to do something. Leah and Kim decided to talk to the team management the first thing the following day. They knew you needed help and couldn’t watch on the side as you were slowly ruining yourself. After sometime Leah decided to come back to your shared room. She expected to find you sleeping but was concerned when you weren’t in the room. She checked the bathroom but no. You weren’t there. She got worried quickly. Her mind went first to the worst scenarios. Did something happen to you, did yo do something to yourself, was it too late for her to come look for you, she was blaming herself instantly.

“She isn’t hear” Leah said in a panicked voice as soon as Kim answered her call.

“What do you mean Leah?” Kim asked worriedly.

“She isn’t in our room, what if something has happened” Leah worried.

“Okay let’s not panic yet. Come back to the team room and we’ll make a plan” Kim said to Leah. Being the captain she knew she had to stay calm. They talked as Leah walked back to the team room. Kim had asked most of the girls to go back to their rooms and have a chill night. Not wanting to consern them.

Viv, Beth, Katie, Alessia, Leah and Kim were the ones to stay. They knew you the best and right now all they wanted was to find you.

“Has anyone called her?” Beth asked.

“Well yeah but she didn’t answer, it went straight to voicemail” Leah answered.

“She’s an adult and can leave if she wants, right now there isn’t much we can do unfortunately. Leah I suggest you go back to your room and see if y/n comes back. Inform us immediately if she comes, Viv and Beth can you go to the restaurant and bar to check if y/n’s there?” Kim started to make a plan.

Kim, Less and Katie stayed in the teamroom. Alessia was crying. She knew how bad it could get for you. Last time, about two years ago, she and Ella Toone had found you on the roof of the hotel, ready to jump. After that you started to get better. You were put on antidepressants and went to therapy for a year. She was happy that you were getting better. She didn’t want to believe the signs of depression when she first noticed them again. She didn’t want you to go through that again.

The team didn’t have to look for a long time before you showed up back in your room where Leah was pacing around. She stopped immediately when she heard the door open. Next she saw you with tears in your eyes standing there. Looking so fragile.

“I think I need help Leah, please help me” You said with the tiniest voice, lips quivering but Leah heard you. She came running to you before you collapsed on her embrace. You cried as she carried you to the bed and then continued to let you cry against her.

She quickly found her phone in her pocket and sent a quick text to Kim that you were back. Then she ignored the respond she got and just continued to hug you.

“I’m here for you and I’m going to get you the help you need” Leah whispered in your ear.

—

This was supposed to be longer but I don’t really know how to continue this so I might do a part 2 where reader sorts with the aftermath about everything. Would you be interested in part 2?

#angst #leah williamson #woso x reader #x reader #alessia russo #katie mccabe #kim little #beth mead #vivianne miedema #arsenal wfc

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thefanficmonster · 2 months

Text

Heavy Metal Lover

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Smoking, Brief Choking, Mentioned Past Suicides (at the location they're exploring), Suggestive Content, Arguments, Swearing

Genre: Enemies to Lovers, Romance, Very Slight Smut, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Sam's best friend and Kat's best friend have been tangling antlers since the moment they met. So much for the couple's hopes of setting the two up.

NOTE: Sam and Kat are still together in this fic. This detail is not meant to be disrespectful to Sam's current girlfriend in any way.

"Why do we keep trying?"

Sam's question comes out as an exasperated sigh as he slouches further into the leather couch him and Kat have settled onto. Their rooms aren't ready yet, seeing as how their flight arrived way earlier than their calculations had suggested.

The hotel lobby is busy. The noise on any other day would be too much for the two to ignore and tune out but right now it's much more alike white noise. Jet-lag has really done them in this time. They'd been running away from it for long enough - hopping from plane to plane filming Hell Week is the same every year. But alas, by the fourth location they'd always shut down as has been the case since they stepped foot out of the plane and into the Las Vegas airport.

The only reason they're staying awake is so they don't get robbed blind. Well, that and to make sure the other two people on this trip don't murder one another.

"Because I still believe there's something there."

Y/N and Colby had successfully made it through the whole boarding process and flight without a single fight. Hell, Sam can't even recall them exchanging a single word until they arrived at the hotel. Maybe that's why it took them less than thirty seconds to break out in their usual bitter back-and-forth in the middle of the lobby. The only reason voices remained leveled was because they are indeed in public and they have appearances to upkeep.

The couple managed to subdue the perpetual assholes, convincing them to 'take five' which they thankfully went to take in opposite directions - Y/N headed for the parking lot to grab something she allegedly forgot in their rental car while Colby immediately clocked the patio across the lobby and quickly disappeared out of sight.

Kat watched them both, as if on cue, pluck their packs of cigarettes from their pockets on the way out.

That's what she means when she's trying to convince Sam of that something she sees. She can't explain it without the reasoning sounding like wishful thinking but she knows there is something. Something in the explosiveness in their interactions, the 'hatred' in their glares whenever they are tangling antlers over the smallest inconvenience, the way they look at each other when the other isn't looking.

Y/N and Colby are to Kat what the paranormal is to Sam. She wants to prove it to everyone, but mostly herself. Prove she didn't spend years poking holes in their apprehension for one another and pushing them together when the holy force clearly didn't want her to.

Or maybe that's what has been driving her.

Either way, she's truly grateful Sam is going along with her antics. Whether he believes what she's preaching or sees what she's seeing is up for debate, but at he's still supportive.

He'd never tell her this, but he isn't exactly trusting of the process. He more than anyone would want to see his best friend in a happy and healthy relationship. Does he believe that him and Y/N could have that? No. Not at all. Does he have faith Kat will succeed in her endeavors? Nope. Not even a tad. Even though she's stubborn and dedicated to this cause, he's never met a person more hard-headed than his best friend. Or at least he hadn't until he met Y/N.

You know the whole 'opposites attract' notion? The reason Sam and Kat's experiment subjects won't give the results they're hoping for is because they're too alike. In sync even - as the cigarettes instance that happened less than ten minutes ago would confirm. They're on the same wavelength headed in opposite directions. They're permanently heading for a collision - a fight equal to a ticking time bomb. Sam and Kat have to put out the fire the explosion of said bomb causes but that is a small price to pay to keep the two in each other's proximity.

"I don't know, babe...." Sam's shoulders slump downward, his arm automatically wrapping around Kat when she leans into his side. Hesitant as he may be, he's willing to go along with it. How is it any different from all the times Kat agreed to visit abandoned and haunted places with him. Hell, that's why she's here. She had no problem hopping on a plane to Vegas on such short notice just because she knew how much it'd mean to him. So...what's a little matchmaking in return? "But I believe your romance instincts." Looking down at her, he can't help but smile when he sees her absolutely beaming at him.

"I will not let you down."

She may try her best, but their subjects are two particularly unruly chess pieces.

Y/N, for example, is still out in the parking lot, getting antsier by the second. Anger refuses to let her stand still. Her jaw is still set, hot blood pumping through her veins. So many words she didn't get to spit out due to the public constraint are still stuck in her throat. Colby's words are replaying in her head, their edge causing her to dig her nails into her palms.

She needs to get some air, she just doesn't know where to find it. Maybe at the top of a mountain where she could scream her lungs out in peace. That's not really an option now, though, she she just settles for walking around the hotel, giving herself a couple more minutes before she rejoins Sam and Kat inside.

Eventually, she's made her way around to the side of the hotel that spreads out as an open patio, basking in the all-too-warm sun rays of this fine September day. Last year, the high temperatures were not such a problem while putting up with the fast paced dynamic of Hell Week because they actually filmed it in late October. This year, however, they chose to get it out of the wat sooner because their schedule would be packed all October. Kat's been working on a new album, Y/N has a deal with Crypt TV to make a horror movie and Sam and Colby will be doing Sam and Colby stuff. I don't think there is any other way to sum up what those two are doing.

Not that Y/N really cares what they do. The only reason she's versed into their schedules is because she lives with them. Yes, that is correct - much to her dismay, she found herself forced to live with the guys and Kat after an unexpected and unwarranted eviction from her apartment.

She exhausted all possible options long before caving and accepting Kat's offer to move in with the three. She was welcomed into the house with three different reactions: her best friend squealing with excitement; Sam offering her a warm welcome and helping hand in moving her stuff to her room; and last, and certainly least, was Colby who gave her nothing more than a 'hello' in passing.

None of them can really recall when this endless butting of heads started or how or why. Sam and Kat would equate their attempts at getting the two to get along to pushing same charges toward one another - the harder you push, the harder they push apart.

It's truly baffling where Kat found even an ounce of romance between the two.

Y/N wipes a few droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand as she climbs the few stairs to reach the bar out on the patio, hoping to gulp down a glass of water after the cigarette she tossed a few minutes ago coupled with the intense heat.

"Hello there." The bartender greets her with a smile, his gaze trailing over her with zero subtlety. "What can I get ya?"

She chooses to ignore it, "Hi. Just a glass of water, please."

The man chuckles, reaching for a tall glass "You know, it's Happy Hour somewhere."

Despite his attempts at flirting - which Y/N is aware is part of his job - she finds herself letting out a small laugh, "Yeah well, not here. And not for me." She gratefully accepts the glass of ice cold water with a nod.

Before the guy can reply, a third voice butts into the conversation, "Yeah, definitely not for her. She's a raging alcoholic."

Stunned, Y/N turns to see a pair of electric blue eyes piercing her with a blank look that contradicts his extremely fake smile he's pinned on his face out of nothing more than politeness.

For a moment, due to their glaring match, they completely forget about the man they've roped into their mess. Thankfully, he speaks up, reminding them of his presence before he could witness any potential brawl, "Oh, um, I'm sorry to hear that."

Momentarily, Y/N drops the torch, tearing her gaze from Colby to acknowledge the bartender directly, "Yeah, no big deal."

Her teeth grit together in absolute rage when she hears the asshole beside her snort something alike a laugh, "Tragic, really. Can I get a vodka cran?"

Y/N busies her hand with holding the glass so she doesn't give into the idea of punching him, "Someone clearly follows that Happy Hour rule."

"I'll have you know..." Colby turns his whole body to face her now, as if challenging her, "...it's not for me." The tilt of his head directs her gaze to an attractive brunette sitting alone at a table, scrolling through her phone.

"Lovely." She spits the word like poison on her tongue, "I'll go tell her to blink twice if she needs help."

"You need help." The lack of bite to his statement stuns her more than if he were to yell it at her. It's an effective throw-off considering she doesn't immediately jump back or smack his hand away when he reaches for the pocket of her shorts, swiping her lighter, "Mine's out of juice." He explains, sticking it in his back pocket before turning to the bartender once more, handing him a ten dollar bill, "And lemon iced tea for my friend here, she's looking a little parched."

With that and a brisk nod in Y/N's direction, Colby excuses himself from the interaction and heads back to the model of a woman who's quick to flash him a bright smile when she notices him approaching.

A sickening feeling settles in her gut. She can't believe any woman gets wound around his finger so easily. She might be biased but she just simply doesn't see it. She can't understand what gets girls within a five mile radius of him swooning.

That smile so many deem charming she finds cynical and fake. His eyes, although a pretty color, are hollow apart from the twinge of evil she sees every time they glare at her. His flirty, charismatic words could make her puke if exposed to them for an extended period of time. In short, she finds him repulsive.

Had they gotten off on a better foot maybe she would've even ended up in his bed on a few occasions by now. As they stand now, she'd rather sleep with Satan himself.

Still, she takes the iced tea, mostly out of curtesy but also because she is indeed dehydrated. She spares the table Colby has now taken a seat at a brisk glance just to find her eyes met with a pair of piercing blue ones once more.

She could strangle him, theoretically, but she won't. Not with this many witnesses around. Instead, she heads inside, looking for Sam and Kat in hopes of getting the last fifteen minutes out of her head.

* * * *

"What's up guys, it's Sam and Colby! And today we'll be investigating the Oasis Motel in Las Vegas. Known for its dark and unexplainable past and the reputation that precedes it today." Sam explains as they begin filming the intro to their video.

The group is currently standing outside the aforementioned motel. The exterior they were met with upon arrival was enough for Kat and Y/N to exchange a particular look. It's in an area off the strip, the surroundings accentuating the atmosphere and amplifying the creep factor.

"Unfortunately, we won't be able to stay at the hotel. They haven't been renting rooms for close to a decade to avoid any potential casualties. And by that I mean - suicides." Colby says, reciting the notes he both wrote and memorized on the car ride here.

"Yeah, this motel is known for two specific suicides that happened here. Specifically in room 20." Sam adds, listing the sightings that have been allegedly witnessed by staff and guests alike before the motel was shut down for business.

The place now just stands ominously as a haunted attraction of sorts. It's meant to honor the memory of the two people who took their own life there but it's clear they have purposefully added to the fear factor to attract more people like Sam and Colby.

That still doesn't take away from the fact that just looking at the building settles an uneasy feeling in Y/N's gut.

She's always been curious about the paranormal but never went out of her way to seek answers. The only reason she's been joining the gang for paranormal investigations is because Kat often begs her to. And she's always had a hard time turning down her best friend, about anything.

So, here she is, sighing as she follows Sam and Kat inside the barely lit lobby of the motel where the staff member who's gonna be giving them a tour is waiting for them.

Before she can fully cross over the doorstep, she feels a finger trail over her arm, running over the very prominent goosebumps that have appeared on her skin.

"Aww, is someone scared?" The mockery in Colby's voice drains any sort of fear or uncertainty she was feeling before.

She whirls around to face him, nostrils flaring when she sees his coy smirk, "Get your fucking hands off me before I knock you the fuck out." She snarls between clenched teeth.

His smile only widens, becoming a tad more genuine now, "That's more like it. Don't be a pussy."

She's about to retaliate with a string of insults that's make a sailor blush when Sam, thankfully, interrupts her, "Guys! Come on!"

The fucker was saved by divine intervention this once, but Sam won't always be there to shield him from Y/N's wrath - he's very aware of that. Time and time again they've screamed their lungs out at one another just to storm off to fill them with nicotine for a potential round two.

In a way, that is a love language too, right? Well, if you ask Kat, that is. Though she isn't completely wrong. The opposite of love isn't hate, it's indifference. And these two are most definitely not indifferent to one another.

Speaking of Kat, she doesn't fail to sneak a peek at the hostile interaction between the two. She nudged Sam's ribs to point it out and smacked his arm when he put a stop to it. Although that was the best course of action to prevent Colby losing any teeth tonight, curtesy of Y/N's fist.

Ok, that's a bit of an exaggeration.

She may have spit a million threats his way over the many year they've known each other, but never once did she go through with them.

"Hi, guys. I'm Scott, and it's an honor to be welcoming y'all to the Oasis." The man, who they now know as Scott, introduces himself as he turns on an old tall lamp by what used to be the front desk of the motel. "I hope you're ready to capture some great footage tonight. We're giving you a time frame till 2 AM which is an exception we rarely make, but this one over here is a smooth talker." He says, smiling slyly over at Colby who was the one that placed the call to the motel before they added the place to their itenirary.

Colby, in turn, shrugs, a grin plastering itself on his face, "I mean..." He chuckles, causing Y/N to roll her eyes, "No, jokes aside, I can't thank you enough for bending the rules for us."

It baffles her how charming he can be. She can't help but wonder at times why she wasn't deemed worthy of this pleasant side of him. Not that she hasn't grown somewhat fond of their dysfunctional dynamic - not that she'd ever admit it - but she still wishes she knew.

And she hates it.

Instead of dwelling on it, she busies herself with the fear that's still lingering on the backburner. She'd much rather be scared of whatever's waiting for them in this motel than what she might find if she keeps digging in her mind.

* * * *

"What is your fucking problem?!"

The tension has been building all night, both between Y/N and Colby and from the paranormal aspect of it all.

Glares thrown in from across the room. Light, supposedly accidental touches, some even meant to startle her. Lingering behind her or always looming close to her, reminiscent of her literal shadow.

He's rarely so bold with his proximity to her. He respects her personal space and tends to keep himself at an arm's length regardless of the place they're in. But for some reason, not quite clear to him yet, he's been keeping himself close to her the whole night. Either it's from a certain need to protect her or an inherent need to annoy her into continuously acknowledging his presence, he can't tell.

But by now it's reached a boiling point.

What pushed the situation past Y/N's tolerance threshold was getting scared out of her skin by Colby who, by design of the challenge, wasn't supposed to be anywhere near her. They were less than five minutes into their solo investigations - Sam, ever the challenger, took room 20; Kat is in the restaurant, Y/N is in room 33 and Colby was supposed to take on the attic.

However, he didn't quite last long.

At the first sound of mild panic coming from room 33, which is directly underneath the attic, Colby immediately took off down the stairs, nearly taking the door off its hinges and scaring the ever-loving daylight out of Y/N.

That is what provoked this reaction from her. And now that we're up to speed...

"I thought you were in danger." He explains, quietly shutting the door behind him as he approaches the bed where she's sat.

"Jesus, Colby, you gave me a heart attack!" She groans, squeezing the bridge of her nose in frustration, suddenly antsy in her seat, "I'm not new to this shit! I've been doing this for years with you guys! I get that you may not see me but that doesn't mean I'm not there!" Her heart is still racing, her breathing shallow. Her chest is heaving despite the hand she's placed overtop it in an inefficient attempt at calming herself down.

A few steps closer on his part make her even more uneasy. She gets up to her feet to level the ground between them somewhat. There is something so vulnerable in sitting down with him standing over her. Dare I say, intimate.

"I see you." He says almost bitterly, "Oh, I fucking see you, Y/N. You're always there, always in my viewpoint. Always just a step out of arm's reach. And I hate it. Or try to. You piss me off so bad I can't even put it into words without sounding fucking insane!"

He's close, too fucking close. The chain hanging from his jeans brushes against the exposed skin of her thigh, sending chills all over her body. It makes her wish her shorts were longer. Makes her wish she could push him away, keep her guard up, keep up her mean front.

But when fingers tangle in her hair, his hand cupping the back of her head, she knows it's too late for any of that.

Their lips are barely an inch apart, the two practically sharing the same breath. Still, her pettiness dies screaming with one last whispered, "Fuck you."

With that, all barriers, both physical and metaphorical, come crashing down as their lips collide with the force of seven years worth of tension. Seven years of denial masked as aggression and annoyance. Every word spat out in anger, every glare, every passing touch, every 'flirty' moment. It's all condensed into a hostile collision of lips, biting teeth and battling tongues.

Y/N's hands intertwine at the back of his neck while his travel down to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer. Their connection is airtight, the heat between their bodies increasing the need to pull back to breathe, though that's the last thing they wanna do. It's been far too long for it to end this soon.

Her legs threaten to give out. It's all too much too fast and too unbelievable. Thankfully, Colby seems to feel the same.

He softly pushes her down on the bed, smiling in the kiss at the zero complaints he receives in response.

"You're so sweet when you wanna be." He pulls back for just a second, his hand cupping her chin.

She's quick to smack it away. He expected nothing else. "Shut the fuck up."

He chuckles almost darkly as his hand now settles around her throat, "Adorable." He's aware he's pushing his luck, but then again it's always a gamble with her. This time, he might just luck out.

Their lips have no time to reconnect though, much to their dismay.

"Colby! Y/N! Where are you guys?!"

Sam's voice reaches them from the lobby downstairs, forcing them apart instantly. A deer in headlights look flashes across both their faces as they hurry to create as much distance between them as possible.

Colby swears he sees any hope he had sink right before his eyes. He watches the realization of what just happened dawn on Y/N. Now that the heat of the moment has evaporated, it becomes all too real and all too clear to her what a mistake that was.

"Guys?!" This time it's Kat's voice bouncing off the walls, coupled with the sound of footsteps on the stairs.

He's panicking, not really sure as to exactly why. Whether it's because he'll have to explain this predicament to his friends or because he can see Y/N starting to regret said predicament in real time, he's not sure. Either way, he needs to come up with something, fast. If his brain can kick back into gear after his whole world was briefly thrown off its axis.

"Go." It comes out as a whisper but it bounces around in his head like an earthquake.

"What?" His tone mimics hers, afraid that a single note higher would ruin what little tranquility they've managed to maintain while there's full-on storms raging in their minds.

Her eyes are trained on the floor, hollow with a thousand yard stare. She can't look at him, unsure as to why. She just knows she can't. "Go. Get out. This never happened." When she finally wills herself to meet his eyes she can feel the burning of tears at the back of her throat, "Forget this ever happened."

Footsteps grow closer but they still have leeway to get away with it with just a white lie.

"Go. Now!" She repeats, a bit more fervor in her words now. She gives him no room to reply as she ushers him away but he isn't capable of stringing words together right now anyway.

So, he obliges, going against all his instincts telling him the opposite. And he does so on time as well, shutting the door behind him just as a tear rolls down Y/N's cheek.

What a fucking mistake, they once again sync up, sharing the same exact thought. Though they silently agreed to forget everything that just happened, they're both well aware it won't leave their brain for the foreseeable future.

If ever.

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thisblogisaboutabook · 2 months

Text

Wicked Felina (The Girl That I Love)

Part 1 - El Paso

Azriel x Reader - Angst - Smut - MDNI

The darkness within her became his obsession. She was his. Didn’t she know? When Azriel spies his wicked mate with another male, when he kills that male, what he knows as life shifts eternally. No longer is there life. No longer is there death. There is only Felina. Felina who has many secrets.

Series Masterlist - Part 2

Warnings: threat of self-harm/suicide, assumed character death (you’ll see), implied rape/non-con (some gross, shitty males discussing it in a tavern), dub-con, violence, obsession, dark themes, sexual content

One hour ago

Rhysand

All Rhys knew was that when Azriel returned from what was supposed to be a short inspection of the Illyrian war camps, he was different. His shadows whirred violently; his eyes… there was a darkness in them that he’d not seen even within the depths of harrowing interrogations; and while his scent remained his usual cedar chilled mist an iron tang tinged it.

“Az?” Rhys asked cautiously, trailing his brother up the stairs

“Not now.” Azriel growled, clenched fists shaking, pupils blown wide, sweat beading his brow.

Rhys said nothing more, following the frantic male to his room. Well- until Azriel slammed the door shut in his face.

Message received.

A few minutes later, Azriel re-emerged into the living area, a packed duffel bag in tow.

“Az? Talk to me.” Rhys pleaded. Fighting against the urge to dive into his mind. Azriel’s shields were ironclad but Rhys could break through them if absolutely necessary.

“Just stop. I’m fine.” Azriel growled.

He sure as shit didn’t look fine.

“I need to go handle some personal things. I have never asked for leave for anything. Can you please just allow me a couple of weeks?”

The High Lord’s brows creased, voice raising “Weeks? With no provided reasoning?”

“I said that it was personal.”

“As your employer, I can accept that it’s personal. As your family, Az, come on. What happened?”

“I’m leaving whether you grant me this or not.”

Azriel and Rhysand had many battle-of-wills over the years but this was different. Rhys could feel it in the very marrow of his bones.

And Azriel’s demeanor - Fuck, he’d always been dangerous but he was outright predatory in the moment.

Rhys shook his head. “I should kick your ass for talking to me like this but fine - go. Two weeks, Azriel, and then you’re back here or I tear the world apart looking for you. You aren’t abandoning us without reason. I will not accept it.”

Azriel’s only response was a tick of the jaw before stepping out the front door and launching skyward at breakneck speed.

Rhys spent the next hour nursing a glass of whiskey, fighting an internal battle of leaving his brother be or going to find him. Just when he began to lose that battle and head out searching, Cassian burst through the door. His hair disheveled from the wind and caked with blood, his eyes puffy and red as if he’d been crying the entire flight.

Rhys froze in his tracks at the sight of his brother who took a few steps forward before falling to the floor, knees giving out as he let out a deep, world-shattering scream.

Rhys sent his darkness to caress his mind, gently prodding for what could have left Cassian in such a state only to be met with crushing waves of grief. Rhys pushed his consciousness with great effort to cut through the viscous surge of emotion desperate for any sense of clarity.

He’d almost reached his own daemati limit when he was abruptly greeted by flashes of memory. Snow painted bright-red with blood. Azriel laying limp. Ash arrows littering his body. Lifeless hazel eyes. Long dark hair. Red lips. Eyes darker than night. Sounds of a female voice screaming. Tears falling onto blood coated hands.

Suddenly Rhys was thrust from Cassian’s mind as he fought against the induced slumber. Cassian’s body shuttered as tears broke free once again. His words slurred as he tried to communicate within his half dazed state, “Go. Ste-steppes.” Another broken sob. “Az is d- Oh gods!” He cried out. “Dead. And s-she’s”

“Who?” Rhys’ mind flashed to the female crouched over Azriel, screaming.

“Oh fuck, R-rhys. Go!!!”

Cassian fell back into his dream state before Rhys could press further.

Rhys willed himself to remain as calm as possible. Fighting to keep his mental voice steady before the grief could overtake him as he called for Amren and Feyre.

Elain, who had been in the garden, would stay with Nyx. Amren would keep an eye on Cassian and throw additional wards up, while Feyre retrieved Nesta from the House of Wind. Once Feyre returned she would be able to soothe his mind.

Feyre’s mental voice wavered, heartbreak surging through the bond at the news, but she agreed to keep details private until Rhys understood exactly what had happened.

——————

Three weeks ago

Azriel

War Camp inspections had a way of bringing out the worst in Azriel. As if his tolerance level for Illyrians was not already at a miniscule level, these inspections always seemed to inflate the egos of the Illyrians. Camp Lords and their cronies marching into meetings with puffed out chests and mouths spewing hatred particularly grated on his typically infallible patience.

Azriel had been staying at the River House for some time now, carefully avoiding Elain as much as possible, and trying his best to avoid giving Rhys anything to pull rank over. And fuck, he was so tired after a day of negotiations. With nothing but tension awaiting him at home and overwhelming fatigue, he found himself at a shitty Inn in the Illyrian Steppes.

He’d seated himself at a small corner table, shrouding himself in shadow as he observed the belligerent patrons of Rosa’s Cantina, a shoddy tavern attached to the Inn.

“Witch.” He heard a group of males call her. Their eyes fixed on a stunning female swaying her hips in time to the music flowing from a rickety piano at the front of the bar.

Remaining silent, the Spymaster listened to the ruddy males lecherous conversation.

“I wouldn’t mind being under her spell.”

“You’ll sooner find your balls nailed to a stake than completion - even with tits like that it’s not worth it.”

Azriel snarled to himself. Even outside of the Illyrian camps, the males in the Steppes were abhorrent. Backwards in every way. The woman continued twirling, her raven-black hair flowing with each movement of her supple body.

“Not if I tie her down first.” A burly male chimed in, his slurred voice gruff.

“I’ll bet you five marks that you won’t survive the encounter with all of your appendages.”

“Look at what the whore is wearing. She wants it whether she knows or not.”

The brute of a male stumbled up to her and Azriel sighed to himself, he really didn’t want to get into it tonight. But….

The male put his greasy hands on her and Azriel instantly jolted upright, preparing to step in. She tried pulling away as the male yanked her into him. The female whirled in his arms, looking up to him like a lover. The male immediately dropped his arms, palms in the air as if placating a wild animal, he began stepping away slowly. When he turned around, Azriel noticed the blood drained from his face as he threw gold marks on the table and immediately left the cantina. The males only laughed and went back to their drinking.

“Wicked Felina” they called her.

“Eh? How much money have you won off the males she scares away now?” One of the patrons chimed in.

“Enough to cover these boys.” The male slapped the new pair of leather boots adorning his feet.

Azriel hadn’t seen what the male saw in her face when she looked to him but his shadows whispered to him.

“Darkness”

“Like calls to like”

“Look”

And maybe it was the stale mead he’d downed but he did. He strode right up to the female and could have sworn he felt time stand still as the patrons of the bar watched.

He didn’t touch her, only spoke in a low tone, “May I have a dance?”

The female whirled towards him and Azriel had to fight to keep his footing steady. Before him stood the most breathtaking female he’d ever seen.

Her eyes met his and his heart sputtered as he stared into the depth of them. Blacker than night, constellations and blood and something “other” swimming inside of them. He could sense her darkness and instead of his typical urge to question, it drew him in like metal to a magnet.

As she took him in, he heard her heart skip a beat for only a moment, before that darkness invaded his senses once again. No, it wasn’t darkness to run away from at all. It was alluring, captivating, dangerous. And he wanted to drink it all in.

“You are a brave male.” She spoke with a slight, unfamiliar accent. So similar to those of Velaris but with something else mixed in.

Azriel’s shadows whirled around the female, winding through her hair and between her fingers. She didn’t balk from them, she only remained intensely focused on him.

Her scent surrounded them and he couldn’t breathe the female in deeply enough.

An hour later he found himself driving into her. Her breasts bouncing so beautifully that he nearly came from the sight alone. He’d spent so long fisting his cock as he fantasized of Elain that he’d forgotten just how glorious the feel of a tight cunt wrapped around him felt. And this female, Felina, her moans were like a sirens call, drawing him so deeply into her that he didn’t know where she ended and he begun.

He would have gone slowly with her, tenderly, worshipped every centimeter of cool, exposed skin, but she had begged him so prettily to fuck her until she forgot what she was. Who was he to deny a female who knew exactly what she wanted. He’d never fucked a female so hard and still she pleaded for more, sensing that he was holding back. When he finally let go of his restraint, he had to dig his nails into her moonlight pale flesh just to keep her from sliding away. She bit her lip and held his gaze through every thrust. Those damning eyes looking at him like she could read every fucking tendril of his own inner-void.

When she came, he came with her. The Inn shaking with the intensity of their combined orgasms. As he came down from the high, the darkness in her eyes banked momentarily a deep, blue flashing in them before once again overtaking them. He gasped sharply as a snap yanked in his chest. Gold tethering him to her.

“Mate” his shadows sang

“Our mate, our mate.”

Azriel’s breathing grew frantic. She climbed out of the bed, her exposed backside red from the slaps he’d pressed to her round ass. “Did you feel that?”

She turned her head over her shoulder, those eyes meeting his again. “Feel what?”

Azriel’s heart sank. “Nothing.”

“Hm.” She shrugged. “Intresting.” And poured a glass of water from a pitcher on an oak dresser with nonchalance. As if they hadn’t just had life-altering sex, like the ground itself hadn’t shook with the force of their coupling.

Her mouthwatering breasts bounced with each step toward him, her lightly toned abdomen baring silver, faded scars.

“Who gave you those?” Azriel asked.

“I’m as willing to talk about them as you are about those.” She nodded toward his hands.

Touché

“Curiosity can be a dangerous thing.” She stated before bringing his head to her chest and running delicate fingers through his hair until he drifted into a deep slumber full of darkness and a golden thread.

When he woke, she was gone.

And he would have thought he’d dreamt it all, had it not been for the nearly-healed crescent moon imprint of her nails littering his body. He hummed in satisfaction at the sight.

He only hoped that next time she’d leave marks deep enough to scar. He should have staked his claim on her too.

——————

Two weeks ago

Azriel

He searched for her, frantically, day in and day out but she was nowhere to be found. How could he have found his mate and been so foolish to lose her in such a short period of time. He hadn’t even told her his name.

Eventually, he had to take pause, and venture into the camps due to a couple of missing Illyrians. Through his questioning, he’d found that the males were shaking, reporting a fanged creature that swept from the trees and picked off several of their men, one by one. When they returned to reclaim the bodies, all that was left were scattered body parts. Fingers, tongues, and cocks mostly.

He remembered the whispers in the taverns of “Wicked Felina.” Surely it was just paranoia.

Azriel returned to the tavern each night, hiding outside within his shadows. She was never there.

His patience was infallible, no amount of space or time would deter him. He would find his mate, he would embrace that pit of darkness dwelling within her - even if she were the creature the men were speaking of. She hadn’t hurt him, she’d only awoken something within him. His Felina may be dark but she is not the villain. She couldn’t be.

He pushed the sight of the ghostly pale brute running away from her at Rosa’s far into the back of his mind.

——————

One week ago

Azriel

Something tugged at him that night, urged him to find her again. Felina had become the focal point of his thoughts, consumed with her 24/7.

He was a desperate male, he wanted - no, needed - to know every piece of this dark anomaly. Mind, body, spirit. He’d sought someone whose light cast upon his obsidian soul for so long - finding hope in the radiant enigma that is Mor and the gentle, sweet presence of Elain. But all along the mother knew he needed someone who could step into his shadow and find solace. When Felina stared into his eyes, he knew she saw it, saw home. He saw it in her too.

She was so new to him and yet so familiar.

His brothers would tell him he was infatuated, that this was just another Mor, but they would be so far from the truth. This was a need, as essential to him as water or air. He thrummed with desire for his Wicked Felina.

She was the other half of his soul and he would not lose out on the opportunity to make her his.

Tonight was the night, she’d be there, he felt it deep within.

And she was.

Not inside. No, in a dark corner of the alley adjacent to Rosa’s Cantina. With a silver haired High-Fae male, nearly as tall as Azriel, muscled, well-groomed.

And she - her back was pressed against the wall. Her head flung back from the crook of his neck it where her face had been burrowed, pure ecstasy written all over those seductive features. A moan escaping her plush lips.

And then he saw it. Blood trickling from the corner of her mouth.

No.

This couldn’t be.

He HURT her. She didn’t want this. Didn’t she know that he was her soul-bonded mate? She wouldn’t fuck someone in the dark corner of an alley willingly.

Didn’t she know she was better than that? Didn’t she know she was everything?

Visions of the scars on her abdomen and of the male who joked about tying her down to have his way with her came to mind.

No. Not his Felina. Nobody would harm her now that she was his.

Azriel didn’t think further as he barreled for them, unsheathing truth-teller and slitting the males throat before he could even lock eyes with him.

Felina let out a quiet inhale of shock, onyx eyes blown wide.

“No. No. No.” She dropped to the male. Her nostrils flaring at the sight of him, his bloodied neck, checking for a pulse.

There was none.

Felina looked up to him with near-black, pleading eyes. “Azriel.”

And despite the peril of the moment, the fact that he clearly misread the situation, his name rolling off those pretty red lips made it all worth it.

Until the thought occurred to him. He’d never told her his name. “How?”

“Az….” Her voice cracked, the slightest bit of silver lined her eyes before darkness began radiating from her, rage filling those deeper than night eyes. Her voice became cold, deadly. “I told you that curiosity was dangerous.”

Shouts from bystanders rang out, creating panic among the villagers.

“You need to go now. They’ll recognize you.”

He paused, mouth gaping as she looked to him. He knew what she was saying but remained frozen in place.

“Azriel, please!” She cried.

There it was. His name again. Had she been as taken by him as he was by her? Had she sought him out too?

It was then that she unsheathed a dagger and held it to her own throat. “If you don’t leave, I will end it all right now.”

If he’d have looked closely, he would have seen the way her hand shook, the way she couldn’t quite touch the blade to her pale skin.

“I will find you again, Felina.” He vowed - threatened - Don’t even think about escaping me. You’re mine.

“Go.” She mouthed.

——————

Four hours ago

Azriel

Staying away for days was impossible. When she’s wander at night, he’d watch her from afar, remaining unseen. The small village mourned the dead male, apparently the esteemed ruler of this shit hole place. He caught glimpses of a mourning Felina. He felt something in the bond but he couldn’t quite make it out.

Resentment, perhaps? Jealousy? Longing?

And despite the black apparel she donned through the village, her face remained neutral with only a tinge of sadness.

Villagers whispered as she walked by. She paid them no mind.

He imagined they likely suspected the death was over her. Azriel’s shadows reported he had a wife. Why would his Felina sleep with a married male? If he was willing to cheat on his wife with her, he couldn’t have been a good male. Azriel did right by the females for eliminating him from the picture, right?

It was then that a flash of auburn appeared. The male’s wife with several large males behind her carrying torches. “Whore!” She spat. “Only fucking my husband wasn’t good enough, was it?”

“You had to sleep around with another male, one you surely had under your spell, just as you had with mine. You vile witch! And now my husband is dead because some enchanted soul grew jealous over you. You will burn for this!”

Suddenly she was placed in shackles, his shadows zooming into her vision. She must have noticed them as she whipped her head searching for him. She mouthed “no”, shaking her head in the direction his shadows raced off to. They came back.

“Blue not black. Blue not black.”

“Still beating. Still beating.”

“Mate. Mate. Mate.”

It was then that wings burst out of her back. Like Illyrian wings but white, the light casting a holographic range of gentle hues of blues and purple, and pinks. Talons emerged from her nails, but her lovely face remained impassive.

His shadows stirred aggressively.

“Alike. Alike. Alike.”

Another shadow shot back to him, beginning to report something when Azriel saw the pyre lighting in town as the villagers threw obscenities in her direction.

Felina held her head high, accepting her fate so easily.

The fire grew and Azriel once again acted on instinct. They couldn’t take her from him. And to burn her? Rage roared within him.

Azriel flew in, obliterating the large males jerking her toward the fire.

“The Shadowsinger!” someone cried out. Azriel saw nothing but Felina and the rising flames. Never would his mate be subjected to licks of flame marring her flesh. She was far too precious to burn.

Anyone who tried to lay hands on he or Felina were eviscerated. “The key!” She cried, pointing to a dead male. She ran toward it. Azriel launched in front of her, his speed overtaking hers as he retrieved it. She caught the key but her talons made it impossible to unlock the chains quickly. Azriel grabbed the key, unshackling her, the talons and wings disappearing.

“We have to go!” She shouted. Azriel caught her, launching skyward, right as an arrow shot toward them, and straight into Azriel’s back. He fought through it, he had to get her to safety. Another arrow flew through the air, narrowly missing Felina. The attempt on his mate triggering a knee-jerk reaction in Azriel who turned to send a blast of power at the bastard shooting the arrows.

He was struck in the side as another arrow met him. Azriel shot another blast of power in the direction that it came from.

Azriel could feel power rumbling under Felina’s surface. “We don’t have time! You’re hurt.”

Azriel bit back a cry at the pain radiating through his body, the blood not slowing as it should. He began feeling faint, fevered. He struggled through it, needing to make it as far away as he could but his vision began to blur as his body weakened. Felina was crying out something but he couldn’t hear her. All there was was pain and the cool press of her body against his. Gods, she was so cold.

“We need to land, Azriel! You can’t make it further.” She commended. He felt the sting of her palm on his face. “Wake up! Land!”

The slap along with her frantic voice roused Azriel enough to land them, very roughly. He crashed down on top of her.

“Felina….” He rasped.

“Shh.” She hushed him. “Save your breath. I’m okay.” Reassuring him through staggered breaths. “We need to get you to help.”

Azriel placed a hand on hers. “Too far. There’s nothing.”

“There’s got to be something!” She choked out.

Commotion erupted from the trees as a group of males from the village drew toward them. Their torches lighting the night and their bows drawn and ready.

Azriel used the little remaining might he had to push himself up. Felina throwing herself on top of him, her hands coated in his blood.

“I’m sorry for this, Azriel.” She spoke and ripped the poisoned arrow out of him, stabbing it right into her bicep. “Fuck!” She cursed. Suddenly the talons and wings were back. Her scent shifted into something so fucking familiar that it made Azriel’s heart ache, and screams echoed as she shot bursts of power at them. The range was short and the damage limited but it slowed them.

A commotion distracted the group of males as flares of red shot from the brush. A large winged male approaching from the night.

“Cass.” Felina whispered in awe.

Azriel’s vision went dark again, his conscious only picking up on words as the males screaming became less and less with each blast of power from Cassian and Felina.

A light caress came over Azriel’s mind, stroking it into submission, his pain easing. This was it. He wasn’t going to make it out of here.

And at that moment the caress broke free, Felina releasing a piercing scream. He tried moving, tried to console his mate, but the arrow that had just lodged in his heart was too much.

Azriel fought to see her one last time, her darkened eyes now shining like the night itself.

“Mate.” He whispered.

“I know, Azriel. I know.” She sobbed. Caressing his face with those delicate, chilly hands.

All Azriel remembered was the darkness embracing him once again. The pain easing as he heard Cassian’s voice.

“How?” Cassian’s booming voice cracked.

“Later, Cassian. He needs help.” Her voice was so pitiful. Broken.

Azriel’s breathing grew so shallow, that sweet darkness lulling him, even his shadows were silent. All he saw in his mind was her but she was fading. Her touch no longer registering to his senses.

He tried fighting it but there was no use as Azriel took his final breath.

“He’s dead, Cassian.”

——————

Two hours ago

Cassian

Cassian had never flown so fast in his life.

Oh gods, his brother was dead. The female, she refused to leave his side until he left to get Rhys.

His mind roared at him that he should have brought her with him. But why? Who was she?

Who was she to Azriel?

All he could remember as the tears flowed freely was that his brother was dead. That he heard the call for help from the village, that the Shadowsinger had gone mad, only to find a group of men on the attack and his brother incapacitated.

He had to get to Rhys quickly and let him know about Azriel, about the female.

——————

Present

Rhysand

Rhys winnowed to the vicinity of where Cassian had been in the memories when he’d held his mind. He flew until he found the bodies of several men. This was the clearing Cassian had been in and in the center of the clearing was caked blood.

Caked blood and no Azriel. No female.

But the blood, there was so much. He couldn’t have survived.

Right?

——————

Two hours ago

Azriel

The darkness on Azriel’s mind eased only slightly. The crippling pain too much to bear.

He opened his eyes to his version of heaven, to his mate’s face. The arrow removed from her arm.

He was in so much pain only managing to rasp out, “Can’t leave you.”

“You have to make a choice now.” She cupped his hand. “There was no other way.” She spoke to herself more than him. “There’s no way Cassian could have made it back in time.”

She was trying to convince herself. His decision was already made.

She shook her head, bracing herself for his response. “You have only a few moments left.”

The black fog cleared from his mind, every ounce of pain returning, but his eyes opened.

“Look at me, Azriel.”

He blinked and where her canines had been were sharp fangs. “I can save you but I can’t guarantee this existence is worth it. I am still figuring it out for myself.”

To his credit, Azriel didn’t balk. A chance to be with his mate… his Felina. He groaned as he turned his head, exposing his neck to her.

“Azriel, if I do this. You are bound to me. I know I’m your mate but you don’t know me. What if I’m… too much? Can you bare that?”

He tried to speak. She would never be too much. He only kept his neck exposed, a warning rattle escaping his chest.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, as she pressed her fangs into his neck.

Blinding light erupted through him along with the worst pain he’d felt in centuries. Tears fell from those otherworldly eyes of night onto his neck.

He fought through the pain, biting back screams. He would be strong for her.

As she drank, she caressed his hair. A slight whimper and the scent of arousal escaping her. She tensed as she recognized the scent. And he could feel a hint of shame from her end of the bond.

Azriel had only heard legends of vampyr’s. Stories told in the camps to scare children who were prone to wandering off and now here she was feeling shame for her own body’s response to having him at the most intimate level.

As she drank, little gulps escaping her, he felt his strength returning. He raised a hand and grabbed her breast, massaging it as she lapped at his blood. A silent communication that whatever she was feeling did not frighten him, was not unwelcome.

Her body relaxed only slightly but he could sense her relief.

The pain began subsiding and Azriel’s strength had already returned in full, in excess, even.

Her drinking slowed and she fought against the urge to keep drinking, the greedy need for blood raging through her.

Azriel raised his hand from her breast to her face, stroking his thumb across her cheek. She leaned into it, grounding herself.

Suddenly she pulled herself off, gasping. Her chest heaving. Pain filled her eyes as she stared up at him. But he felt… incredible. Euphoric.

And there his mate was, reeking of sweet arousal. Chest heaving. Trickles of blood dripping from her mouth.

“You have to go now, Azriel. Get what you need and come back to me.”

He could hardly think. His need to be inside of her overwhelming every sense.

“Azriel. Listen!” She spoke firmly. “You have a couple of hours at most. Go home, get any healing tonics or sedatives that you may have, clothes, and blankets and come right back here.”

“I don’t-“ he started.

“You will. Can you still winnow?”

Azriel nodded. Had he winnowed in front of her before?

“Go. Now. Before Cassian gets home and bombards you with questions.”

Azriel didn’t want to leave, growing irate at the thought of it.

“I know it’s hard for you to leave. It’s a culmination of our newly tethered bond and likely the mating bond, Azriel.”

He stayed in place.

Finally she approached him. Staring straight past his eyes and into the depths of his soul as the urge to obey her taking overtook him. “Go now.”

Without another word, he left, winnowing directly to the River House, collecting a bag, and leaving Rhys with far too many questions. He prayed to the mother that he wouldn’t track him.

——————

One week later

Azriel

She’d begged him not to take her but she was declining far too quickly. They’d spent the past seven days in a daze. He had quickly gone from euphoric to delirious once returning from the River House.

And just as he’d made a life altering choice to be eternally bonded to her when she’d turned him, Felina made the choice to accept the mating bond by allowing him to feed off of her.

The combination of blood lust and the mating frenzy sent him into a spiral. They barely talked in the past few days, they’d have eternity to do that. He spent more time inside of her than out but she… she refused to feed off of him, citing that it was too risky with his newly turned state. When he wasn’t rutting into her, he was hunting for game but the blood wasn’t enough for her. He cursed himself for taking so much of her blood in his frenzied state.

She repeatedly asked that he not take her to his family but they would understand. It was the only option at this point. Her scent began shifting into that strange familiar aroma again, the darkness of her eyes swirling with flecks of blue. That “other” aspect to her diminishing slightly.

As she fought her consciousness, she barely managed to whisper “There’s more.” before going unconscious.

He’d waited so long to find his mate.

She’d saved him.

He didn’t want to go against her wishes but her condition was deteriorating rapidly. Her fever raising, her once-cool skin now burning as whimpers escaped her lips.

He did the only thing he could and prayed to the Mother that Felina would forgive him.

He flew her home.

They landed on the River House lawn in the middle of the night. Rhys appeared with a crack of thunder to confront the threat that breached his wards. Feyre, Elain, Cassian, and Nesta rushing out behind him, their eyes wide with shock.

Rhys shuddered, falling to his knees before his brother. “Azriel. Thank the mother you’re home.” He sobbed.

Felina let out a pitiful moan. Sweat beading on her brow. Her cool skin now radiating waves of heat. She slowly, weakly opened her weary eyes, the swirling black now bleeding into a blend of ultraviolet blue.

Rhys approached the female in his arms, Azriel tightening his grip on her. Time stood still as Rhys gently touched her face, carefully turning her head toward him. His face of relief crumpling into something earth shattering, the mountains quaking as he fell to his knees.

Azriel started, “This is Felina, my m-“

Rhys interrupted shaking his head as let out pained, joyous laughter. “No, Az.” He choked out. “Not Felina.”

Fighting to regain composure, Rhys clarified. “That’s Y/N.”

Azriel gasped as those now violet-blue eyes peered up into his, his jaw dropping as he carefully went to his knees with her in his arms.

That scent. Those eyes of night. Azriel’s mate was-

Rhys gave a disbelieving smile his voice again breaking at the sight before him.

“My sister.”

——————————————

A/N: Thank you for reading! For now, this is a one-shot. I have left openings in the story with the potential for it to become a series or at least part two with an explanation but have not yet decided.

This fic is loosely inspired by an old-western song called “El Paso” that I listened to growing up with my grandmother. The song is where I chose my pen name of “Felina” from. You may also recognize “Wicked Felina” as the title of the final episode of the show “Breaking Bad”

ACOTAR general tag list: @lilah-asteria

#acotar angst #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #Azriel #Azriel x reader #Rhysand #Cassian #azriel shadowsinger #sarah j maas #a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #Shadowsinger

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wilteddreamsofbaldursgate · 2 months

Text

The Scent of Missing Buttons

Astarion centred || implied Astarion x gn!Tav || ao3 || Masterlist

Rating: M ; +18Word Count: +2.9k Warnings: prostitution, sex work, sex trafficking, PTSD, suicidal thoughts, no graphic description of sex act

He thought about his old brass buttons as he let the couple have their way with him. His doublet had thirteen buttons, if he recalled correctly. Six he had found on the floor. There was no way of telling where the others were. They had probably rolled under the bed or were lost in the gaps between the splintered floorboards. He would dare another attempt at retrieving them when these brutes were finally done with him. Going back to the master without either of them was simply out of the question.

a/n: phew, that was hard to write. Don't forget to hug your vampire boyfriend today.

Neither the loud human nor the scrawny half-elf sitting on each side of Astarion cared about how witty or charming he was. All he had to do was sit still and smile while he endured the dirt-stained fingers messing up his carefully coiffed curls. The sweaty hand resting heavily upon his knee. The stench of days-old sweat radiating from their bodies.

Astarion gave the gawking half-elf a crooked smirk for no other reason than to loosen the building tension in his jaw.

His marks usually came to him, and that night had been no different.

Astarion had noticed the couple looking over at him from the bar ever so often, giving him toothless grins while he’d pretended to sip on the cheap ale the tavern was pouring out en masse.

Admittedly, the unkempt couple wouldn’t have been his first choice of company, but the night had been approaching eerily fast and Astarion could seldom afford to be picky.

And so he’d met the couple’s shamelessly lewd looks through heavy-lidded eyes, giving them an inviting smile in return.

It had taken them embarrassingly long to stumble over to his table, greeting Astarion with the stink of alcohol on their breaths. They must’ve started their night out drinking well before sunset—Astarion rather hoped to get it over with them fast.

Maybe they were already drunk enough to skip business and just follow him back to the master, he mused as the half-elf’s uncoordinated hand tried and failed to locate his groin.

But then the human let go of his hair; Astarion could feel her sour breath tickle his ear and knew they wouldn’t let him get off the hook that easily.

He tried to subtly lean away from the human, but she was already dragging her coated tongue along his elongated helix.

Astarion shuddered in disgust.

“So much more sensitive than his,” the human panted. Her stupid delight was evident on her face as she indicated the half-elf who was barely an inch short of crawling onto Astarion’s lap.

“You’re the prettiest thing we’ve ever seen,” she continued, mistaking Astarion’s visible disgust for arousal. Or maybe she was just ignoring his displeasure.

“We want you.”

All too easily, Astarion forced his well-constructed mask back over his features.

Grinning, his fingers curled around the human’s bony wrist as he stood, pulling her with him.

“Wonderful, because I know a place where you can indulge in me all night long,” Astarion purred. “Somewhere quiet—just for the three of us…”

The human giggled, though her partner eyed him with a slight hint of contempt.

“Our bed will do, filliken,” the half-elf mumbled as he manoeuvred himself off the bench they’d abandoned him on.

Astarion tensed.

Whore…

Even this piss-drunk mutt had taken only one look at him and known him for what he was.

Astarion had half the mind to bare his fangs, rip out the bastard’s throat. Decorate the dingy tavern with his innards. Paint the walls red.

The human would come next. He would tear off her little ears and shove them down her stinking maw and, maybe, if he was lucky for once, some of the patrons were emboldened enough to drive a stake through his dead heart.

From a distance, Astarion could hear the clock tower strike thrice and the master’s voice came to his mind.

Do not disappoint me again, boy…

The vampire spawn wet his lips, swallowed down his anger and lust for blood until they mingled with the soaring hunger in the pits of his stomach.

A moment passed.

Astarion smiled.

“Lead the way, then, darling.”

The couple brought him to a cramped attic room right across the street.

Dark mould grew on scratched windowpanes and it smelled as if the chamber pot hadn’t been emptied that morning.

Somewhere inside the walls, Astarion could sense a small colony of rodents scurrying to and fro.

He tried to focus on the erratic symphony of their heartbeats as he eyed the colourful range of fluids staining the sheets of an unmade bed.

It would be over soon—at least for that night.

Astarion would deliver these two fools to the master in no time. Maybe he would even get a little treat for a job well done—a fat rat, or even a small dog, if he was being very good.

And then he would rest in the shadows. Close his eyes to the buzzing city above, imagine the sun caressing his skin as it tenderly reduced him to ashes.

The attic door slammed shut behind the human.

Astarion knew he would never feel the sun on his skin again, not even for the short moments between pain and salvation, because as much as he was a whore, he was an even bigger coward.

He stood still as greedy hands began tugging at his clothes.

The human giggled stupidly as her cross-eyed partner tried to undo the brass buttons on Astarion’s doublet. It was a rather pathetic sight, and before Astarion could assist him, the cursed half-elf ripped the doublet open.

A curse ready on his lips, Astarion watched as his buttons went flying across the room.

He doubted the master would afford him new ones any time soon; worse yet, he surely would be chastised for being so careless with his clothes again!

Fuming inside, Astarion pushed the half-elf onto the bed and sank to the dirty floor where he crawled around to collect the buttons closest to him.

“What a cute little pup,” the human laughed right above him.

Her hand clawed at his locks again, and Astarion could feel humiliation merge with the seething mix of anger and hunger and hatred and disgust and—

Astarion pocketed whatever buttons he could retrieve, then rose to his full height.

The human’s hand fell away and her laughter stopped as Astarion crowded her against the rickety bed frame.

She looked up at Astarion with round eyes. Perhaps, somewhere in the back of her booze-clouded tiny little brain, she recognised the danger she’d invited into her greasy bed.

Astarion ran his knuckles along her jaw before his fingers curled tightly around her chin. She shivered.

“Why don’t you two cosy up and just watch for a moment?” Astarion purred. “You like a good show, don’t you?”

“We like so much more than that,” she breathed, her eyes glassy with arousal instead of fear.

Astarion almost scoffed. Stupid bitch.

“So much more you shall have.”

The human ran her calloused fingers over Astarion’s lean forearm before she eagerly joined her partner on their bed.

The couple took in every part of his body as he undressed himself.

They liked that he took his time because they didn’t know that, with every article of clothing that fell away, Astarion imagined ripping them limb from limb.

A finger here. A foot there. The eyes that had seen entirely too much…

Oh, how he hoped the master would make them suffer later.

Allowing himself an honest smile, Astarion tossed his smallclothes atop the rest of his clothes and crawled onto the bed.

The doomed couple groped him roughly, drew their sharp fingernails across his skin. Used him.

But that was quite alright; their night would end so much worse than Astarion’s.

He thought about his old brass buttons as he let the couple have their way with him.

His doublet had thirteen buttons, if he recalled correctly. Six he had found on the floor. There was no way of telling where the others were. They had probably rolled under the bed or were lost in the gaps between the splintered floorboards. He would dare another attempt at retrieving them when these brutes were finally done with him.

Going back to the master without either of them was simply out of the question.

Neither the wicked human nor the crude half-elf laying on each side of him cared that his well-timed groans were purely performative, that their touch made his skin crawl. All he had to do was please them, lure them away to their death.

All he had to do was survive another night. Another year. Another century of nothing but pure shit.

How he wished it would end. Time was running out.

Don’t you dare disappoint me again, you useless dirty thing…

The half-elf came first, then the human. It had taken them long enough.

Astarion was quick to pull his shirt back over his head as the human watched him intently—he was sure she wanted another round. Good. This only ever played right into Astarion’s cards.

The half-elf was a problem, though. He’d passed out the moment the last of his spend had added another stain to the nasty bedsheets.

Astarion barely refrained from rolling his eyes; they would have to wake him, and that soon. They had places to be and daybreak was approaching fast.

Astarion gave the human a crooked smile as he put on his breeches.

“You’re very skilled, handsome,” the human said, taking the bait.

“Likewise, darling.”

She returned his smile as she untangled herself from the bedsheets and sat on the corner of the bed, never letting him out of her sight.

Astarion slipped into his doublet. So far, he hadn’t spotted another missing button.

“Why don’t we repeat that—there’s a place I’m dying to show you. If we leave now, I promise you it will be unforgettable…”

The human’s smile widened.

“No.”

No?

Astarion wet his lips.

For a moment, he thought he’d misheard.

No.

It wasn’t like this hadn’t ever happened before. But because it had happened before, Astarion’s hands began to tremble ever so slightly.

No meant trouble.

No meant failure.

No meant punishment.

“You see, we don’t fuck the same thing twice,” the human said, that arrogant grin still plastered across her hideous face.

And then she tossed Astarion some coins—laughably few coins at that. They wouldn’t even buy him some cheap ale from across the street.

Astarion was too stunned to catch the coins. They rolled around his feet before they dropped to the floor with a final mocking clink.

He stared at the dirty change, even spotted one or two of his lost buttons among them.

“Pick them up.”

Astarion’s eyes met the human’s, who licked her lips.

She wanted him to crawl again. Like a dog. Like trash. Like the rat in a cage that he was.

Astarion turned and fled from the attic room. There was nowhere to go, though; the city’s dirty streets only lead to one end.

The clock tower struck five times. Far in the distance, the sky turned indigo.

There was no time to find another victim, Astarion knew, as he prowled the shadows.

But he couldn’t return empty-handed, either.

Astarion considered dragging some passed-out drunk from the next alleyway back to the master. It wasn’t too bad a plan, wasn’t it?

But the master liked his playthings sharp. He wanted them to be aware of what he did to them. He so delighted in their screams.

And if those poor fools couldn’t scream, Astarion’s screams would have to make do instead.

In fact, they were the master’s favourite.

Come to me, boy.

“Shit. Shit. Shit!”

Astarion should’ve gone down on all fours and crawled at that bitch’s feet; begged her to come with him.

He was a fool. He was so fucking stupid. He deserved any punishment the master deemed fit.

He couldn’t do anything right.

Astarion shot another look over his shoulder, fearing to see the sky having changed colours again.

But instead of being painted with dawn, the sky… tore open?

People started to scream. They ran from the flying ship that had appeared out of nowhere. Its tentacles chased after them, picking them off the streets one after another.

Astarion should join the fleeing drunks and alley cats, he thought.

But, really, what could be worse than what was waiting for him at the master’s feet?

Astarion stood still; he could be very good at that.

And unlike the master’s punishment—unlike the nightly humiliation that was his cursed existence—it was over in one blissful moment.

Neither the annoying wizard nor the nosy cleric sitting on the opposite side of the dying campfire cared that they were interrupting Astarion in his plan of bedding you. That night, he’d already endured yet another long-winded retelling of the young warlock’s heroic feats. Listened to the prickly warrior loudly sharpening her blade. Suppressed a laugh at the fiery tiefling’s silly joke.

He wanted to be alone with you. Look at that cute little smile that had only needed one glass of watered-down wine in order to grow this wide. Subtly close the empty space between you and him sitting side by side on a smooth wooden log.

He wanted to breathe in the herbal fragrance of your soap without anybody watching.

The first thing Astarion had ever noticed about you was that, even covered in the blood and grime of your enemies, you smelled nice.

It had taken him days to figure out that the pleasant scent surrounding you didn’t emit from your washed hair or reasonably clean clothes. Once Astarion’s raging hunger had been sated enough, he’d even understood that it wasn’t your delectable blood that made his head spin.

No, your subtle yet unique scent simply lingered as naturally on your skin as the sunlight did on Astarion’s face these days.

It was just you that smelled good, and it slowly drove him mad.

Astarion’s plan was simple enough. All he had to do was please you, weasel himself into your bed and good graces. Only then was he as safe from the master as he could possibly be out here in the wilderness.

But you just had to make this difficult; you didn’t fall for his charm and flirtations. Instead of swooning, you just frowned at him whenever he tried to seduce you—and gods was he trying. And failing.

If he were to lean over and bluntly propose sex to you right then, he was sure you would reject him. The very idea of both excited and terrified him at once.

The wizard and the cleric only excused themselves when the sun’s first golden fingers started to part the night sky.

Astarion watched them vanish into their respective tents, finally leaving you alone with him.

He stole a glance at you and found you already looking at him.

Maybe this was his chance. Astarion couldn’t afford wasting another night, not when the master was breathing down his neck at any given time.

“And what are we two pretty things going to do with the rest of the night, darling?”

You scoffed. “Night? It’s almost morning.”

“Ah, you’re quite right, of course. With the right company, one can lose track of time so easily, no?”

“Indeed,” you yawned. “Now let’s get some rest, Astarion. We have a long day ahead.”

Astarion wet his lips.

Shit.

What was wrong with you?

What was wrong with him?

If he couldn’t even get his stupid little plan right, then maybe he deserved his master’s wrath.

Astarion picked up a crooked branch and poked around the fading embers.

If you didn’t want his body, then what use did you have of him? He was just some idiot. A whore nobody wanted to fuck. He was—

“Oh!” You exclaimed, suddenly. “I forgot!”

Astarion, trying to not let his growing desperation show on his face, watched as you excitedly produced something from your pocket.

You scooted closer to him; your knee brushed against his thigh and your smile grew as you looked up at him. Instinctively, Astarion breathed in your scent.

Then you opened your hand, revealing thirteen buttons.

The rising sun reflected prettily on their golden surface.

Astarion tensed.

“What’s that?”

Your cheeks reddened, looking as if you’d just scrubbed them clean down by the river.

“Your doublet—it doesn’t close properly, doesn’t it? So I thought, well…buttons.”

When Astarion neither reached for the buttons nor said anything, you slowly let your hand sink.

“I could sew them on for you,” you offered sheepishly. “I’m sure they’ll look very nice on you.”

Throwing his now broken stick aside, Astarion rose to his full height.

“I don’t want them. Go to bed. We have a long day ahead,” he said courtly before he all but fled to his tent.

The sun burned on Astarion’s skin but didn’t reduce him to ashes. He never was afforded any luck.

He watched you walk far ahead of him, leading your companions through the woods. This far back, he could barely catch your lovely scent.

Not for the first time that day did he wonder what those buttons you’d offered him would’ve cost him.

Wouldn’t any price have been worth it?

Astarion had been a fool again.

He should’ve just thanked you, watched your quick little fingers close the chasm in his chest with nothing but some thread and pretty buttons. After that, he should’ve pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek. Take you into his arms.

That’s what he wanted to do, if he was being honest.

But he hadn’t done any of this. His doublet was still shoved to the very bottom of his pack and he hadn’t looked you in the eyes all day.

Because as much as Astarion was a whore, he was an even bigger coward.

That was all to him there was.

The vampire spawn looked over his shoulder but couldn’t see much of what lay behind.

The golden sun was too bright in his eyes.

As usual, all he could do, though, was endure.

Tag List

@spacebarbarianweird @bardic-inspo @kawaiiusagichansan

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #gn reader #astarion x you #gn tav #astarion x reader #hurt/angst #fanfic #baldur's gate fanfiction #emicha writes #wilteddreamsbg3

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hxney-lemcn · 2 months

Text

This is Home — Osamu Dazai x gn! reader

summary: reader and Dazai's bond grows, feelings are revealed and Dazai shows a rare moment of vulnerability.

tw: mention of Dazai being suicidal, slight angst (mostly fluff), slight hurt/comfort

a/n: I hope I didn't write Dazai's character wrong. He's such a complicated character and I made him super lovesick so oops. Also this is super self indulgent (tbf I always write the reader in relation to how I would act).

wc: 3.3k

Master List

Your life outside of work wasn’t too exciting. After coming home from a stressful day of talking down a hostage situation or tracking down a criminal ability user, you were grateful for the peace you found at home. The Armed Detective Agency wasn’t what you expected to do as your career, but you weren’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Besides, after dealing with troubling situations all the time, laying down in bed and watching whatever managed to keep your attention was all the more gratifying.

It was funny looking back, when you had been afraid of growing up lonely and bored. You got more than enough excitement at work, and you almost saw your colleagues as family. You truly loved them, they were everything (which was a bit sad but you digress), but you also enjoyed the tranquility of your home. The time you had to yourself was something you always appreciated.

Today was one of those rare peaceful days. It was the weekend and you all were given a much needed day off. You had been letting your top coat dry, being careful as you scrolled through your phone, tv playing something in the background. Your pet cat laid peacefully on your feet, her cute little head snuggling into your legs. Days like these were your favorite. The weight of your job was lifted momentarily, soaking in as much of this relaxing feeling as possible.

What you hadn’t fully expected (you can never underestimate what he’d do) was for Dazai to pop into your bedroom…at least he had the decency to knock on your bedroom door before entering. How did he get into your apartment? Lock picking. He totally lock picked your door. Much to his amusement, you hadn’t even batted an eye at his appearance. He hadn’t done this before, but from the way he acted around you in the office, this was bound to happen. Your only grief was that your cat had jumped away in apprehension of the ‘stranger’.

Dazai let out a gasp, eyes starry as he noticed the nail care products that were on your bed stand, “You do your own nails? I always thought you got them professionally done.”

“Nah,” You shrugged. “You think I have the money or time for all that? I’ve been doing my own nails for as long as I can remember.”

“You’re so talented,” Dazai praised, jumping onto your bed next to you. Taking one of your hands in his own, he took in your work, even though it was just one color he was staring like it was the most fascinating artwork he’s ever seen.

“Want me to do yours?” You asked, unsure why he was so enraptured with your usual nails. You always tried to keep them nice. You could neglect any other aspect of your health, but you always tried to keep your nails looking good. You weren’t sure why, but maintaining them was relaxing, as well as a routine that calms you down.

“Would you really,” Dazai gasps, now clasping your hand in his, an exciting grin dazzling his beautiful features. “You spoil me truly, Abelia.” That was something only Dazai called you. His fawning over women had slowly fizzled out, the pet name belladonna long forgotten. Instead, he had turned that attention towards you tenfold. If someone needed Dazai (mainly Kunikida), the first place they’d look was wherever you were. He would constantly drap himself over you, complimenting you and fawning over you. It was weird, you weren’t used to such attention, but you had started to look forward to the next time you’d see Dazai. You soaked up any and all attention he was willing to give you, while he had been doing the same.

You looked up Abelia, unsure what that was. It was a plant, just like belladonna. But except being the name of deadly nightshade, it was a flowering plant, a part of the honeysuckle family. It was a unique, but heartwarming nickname that you had grown fond of quicker than you’d like to admit. It was hard for you to fully comprehend if Dazai actually was interested in you, or if this was his weird way of showing you affection. Although as mentioned earlier, he had stopped his flirting with women altogether, which made you wonder if he was okay (he’s just whipped for you).

“You can pick out any color you want,” You motioned to the small rack of nail polish you owned. You had more than you needed, but that gave Dazai a wide variety. You watched him, the warmth in your eyes clear as he made a show of what color to pick.

“Ahh what do I choose?” He sighed, hands pointing to different colors. “There’s so much to choose from.” Suddenly, he perked up, picking up a color and quickly sliding up to you. A grin formed on your face as he waved the sparkly pink color in front of your face.

“I’m warning you now, those sparkles are a pain to get off,” You warned, grabbing your nail file and cuticle cutters. “I had to scrape them off even after all the nail polish was already gone.”

“All the more reason,” Dazai smiled, watching as you fully turned towards him. Dazai didn’t hesitate when you held your hand out towards him, placing his in yours. Your touch always warmed him in a way he hadn’t felt before, the simplicity of your routines is what drew him in. That wasn’t to say you were boring, it’s just all he had known was chaos. If he wasn’t the center of chaos, he would create it. You were the complete opposite. You gave Dazai a taste of something he thought wasn’t meant for him, and he was slowly becoming dependent on you to show him more. A world that isn’t bloody and terrible, a world where he can be loved even with the terrible things that he’s done. A world where he’s with you.

Dazai didn’t pay any attention to the tv, warm chocolate eyes watching your every movement. How you gently filed his nails into a nice looking oval shape (he couldn’t believe how better they looked just after the first step). How your eyes would dart to the tv every so often to keep up. How you made sure he wasn’t hurt when you clipped his cuticles, he was in slight awe at how you made it look so easy. Finally you put on the base coat. It had been thirty minutes and Dazai was already feeling a bit antsy. Sitting still wasn’t really his style even though he could be the laziest motherfucker alive. You were just so close, and he felt like it was a crime that he hasn’t held you close yet.

Even though Dazai knew his feelings for you ran deeper than they should, he hadn’t been able to tell you. Yes…he was kind of obvious, but he could tell that you would always interpret his affection as nothing but friendly. It was amusing and frustrating at the same time. He wanted to move past this stage, for you to be his, and him yours. Yet he was held back, knowing he didn’t deserve such kindness. How many people has he killed that wanted the same? How many people has he killed that had that warmth, only to extinguish it?

At the end of the day, he still felt that hollow feeling. He didn’t really care about whomever he killed, they were just blank faces adding to a number. That alone made him feel guilty, because he knows you wouldn’t see it as such. You were so kind, kind enough to see a monster like him and care. He’s been shown the light time and time again within the ADA, and you only furthered that. At first it was hard for Dazai to understand the difference between the brutality of the Port Mafia and the ADA, but it slowly became clearer over time. You had been the nail in the coffin, showing him the true beauty of protecting someone. You had become a shoulder to cry on for many victims, almost crying with them sometimes, sharing their pain. He didn’t understand how you did it, but he’s trying to learn.

That antsy feeling in Dazai slowly rose, the way you gently treated him as you continued to apply the polish to his nails only fueling the feeling further. That warm, fluttery feeling was getting worse and you were his outlet. Oh how he wanted to hug you, cuddle you, squeeze you tight to get those feelings out of his systems. What a predicament he put himself in.

“Careful!” You gasped, holding his hands still with wide eyes. “I just put on the top coat, you gotta let it dry.”

“How long will that take?” Dazai whined, a pout forming on his pretty lips.

“A while,” You replied, waving his hands to help them air dry a bit faster. “I don’t have an exact time, I mostly just wing it. When you can tap your nails without them sticking to each other is when they’re completely dry.”

“I don’t know how you do it,” He whined again, dramatically swaying as you continued to hold his hands still. “How am I supposed to live without you in my arms?”

“You survived 22 years,” You teased back, a sly grin on your face (Dazai thought he was going to die at the sight). “I’m sure you’ll live.”

“You’re so cold,” Dazai bemoaned, tilting his head back (but making sure his hands never left yours). You found yourself stuck holding Dazai’s hands until his nails fully dried. You had almost let go and he nearly ruined all your precious work. It was nearly dinner by the time his nails dried, and you found yourself making plans with him.

“Take out or should I actually try to make something?” You pondered, looking into your fridge to see if the latter was even possible.

“Take out,” Dazai replied instantly. Glancing at him, you watched as he beckoned you towards your couch, arms stretched out like a child asking for a hug. Although this was the first time either of you had done anything like this before, it felt completely natural, almost like this was how it was always supposed to be.

“Alright,” You shrugged, closing your fridge and approaching the man that took up your couch. “I’m kinda craving pizza, what about you?”

“Pizza is fine,” He mumbled, gently pulling you to lay on top of him. You felt yourself fluster slightly, unused to such an intimate hold. Yes Dazai would cling to you almost 24/7, but this was in the privacy of your home, and without the company of your friends that kept you grounded, it felt like the moment was more tender.

Taking out your phone to the best of your abilities, you kept making sure Dazai was okay with your decisions (he would eat dirt with you if you asked). After you confirmed everything, he had started playing with your hair, making almost completely melt into him (he had quickly found your weakness). Dazai watched with fondness as your eyes fluttered as he scratched gently at your scalp, it was so cute how you tried to act so nonchalantly (it worked greatly to his advantage that you were also touch starved).

At that moment, it felt like your relationship with the suicidal detective had shifted. An understanding washing over the both of you. You had both been the others this entire time, you both were just too cowardly to speak it outloud. The warmth in your chest hurt so nicely, enjoying every second that Dazai’s nimble fingers twirled your hair around, never wanting him to stop. Unfortunately for you both, the pizza arrived quickly, causing you to pry yourself off Dazai as he tried to tangle you into him further.

“I have to get the pizza,” You grumbled, the more responsible of the two.

“Fine,” Dazai relented, allowing you to stand up properly.

…

You couldn’t hide the lovesick grin on your face as Dazai showed everyone his nails the next work day. Atsushi complimented him, albeit hesitantly, asking when you did them. Dazai held the most shit eating grin when he mentioned you both hung out over the weekend, causing Atsushi to sweat. The look on Atsushi’s face as he looked at you read ‘my condolences’.

If you thought Dazai was clingy before, he was basically a leech at this point. That day had changed him, and he found himself becoming more selfish. He wanted to call you his. He wanted to be yours so badly, the thought of you both sharing more domestic moments consumed him.

Such a moment happened after work. Dazai was feeling particularly romantic, and who was he to deny you such affection? You deserved the world and he would give you no less. He brought you to a park, a thick blanket and a bag of food for you two to share (he sadly couldn’t find a picnic basket in time). Since your work day ended at five, the park wasn’t too full. Parents were starting to take their kids home and some people were having their evening jog. Dazai had brought you to a more quiet area, placing the blanket beneath a tree.

You felt flattered at the amount of attention Dazai had put into this. The blanket was a nice thickness so it wasn’t super uncomfortable to sit on the ground, the foods were your favorites and Dazai currently held a chocolate covered strawberry up to your mouth.

“Say ahh~” He giggled, clearly amused with the situation. You opened your mouth hesitantly, feeling embarrassed at the situation. This wasn’t the first time someone’s fed you something, albeit it wasn’t often, this scenario was more intimate then anything you had experienced.

“Is this a date?” You couldn’t help but ask after you swallowed the berry (it was delicious). Normally you’d shy away if the topic was brought up, but at the moment you couldn’t find it in yourself too. After that domestic day, the way Dazai treated you was warmer than normal, and it felt 100% genuine. He had desensitized you to the notion of dating him, and it seemed to work in your favor.

“If you want it to be,” Dazai hummed, grin widening.

“I don’t mind,” You replied, picking up a sandwich. “As long as that’s also what you want.”

His heart fluttered, an occurrence that had become normal in your presence. The fact that you wanted his full consent, even though he’s the one that planned it warmed him. You were so sweet he could feel his teeth rot. If anything, he should be asking you if you really wanted this. Even though you knew he was an ex-Port Mafia executive, he didn’t think you truly understood the sins he had committed. What he’s done without a second thought. The sadistic acts he did for fun. You had nearly cried over a song about a rat being killed, how would you react if you heard the details of his crimes?

You had sensed the change in Dazai’s demeanor. The shine in his eyes dulled, even if everything else hadn’t changed. He suddenly looked drained, the eye bags under his eyes were dark. At first you were worried that he didn’t want to date you, but that thought seemed silly. It then dawned on you that the charming, lovely Dazai might have been feeling inadequate.

“Of course,” Dazai smiled, masking his feelings as quickly as they appeared. “I would be honored to be yours, Abelia.” He grabbed both of your hands, holding them up to his cheek as he swooned dramatically. A smile tugged at your lips as you noticed the polish on his nails, they had slightly chipped, but they were still nearly intact.

Sliding one of your hands out of his grip, you caressed his cheek (a bold move on your part), “You know I care for you, right?” His dark eyes widened, a small blush rising over his cheekbones. Your thumb gently rubbed his cheek as he kept your other hand clutched in his own.

“You shouldn’t,” Dazai muttered, letting you see a fraction of how he felt. He wasn’t sure why he admitted such a vulnerable thought so quickly. It was like the honesty in your eyes had compelled him to tell you the truth.

A frown tugged at your lips, unwavering adoration filling you, “Everyone deserves someone to care for them.”

The determination in your eyes, your kindness, it had all caused Dazai to turn into a gooey mess on the inside. You said such astounding things with such a strong truth. He knew you meant what said.

“Everyone?” Dazai repeated, raising an eyebrow, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

You paused, thinking of some bad people from history that were definitely not worthy, but decided to stand strong (or your defense could easily be dismantled), “Everyone.” You noticed that the shine of despair still clouded in his eyes, his smile unwavering. That’s when you realized he truly didn’t think he deserved to be loved and cared for. Taking your other hand out of his grasp, you held his face in your hands, a seriousness taking over you.

“You may have done bad things, you may have hurt people, but you’ve changed,” You stated, staring deeply into his eyes in hope to get through to him. “And as long as you try to be good, to atone for what you’ve done, then you deserve a second chance. Osamu Dazai, you are not a bad person, and you deserve to be loved.”

The formidable Osamu Dazai, the carefree, lazy, unbreakable, cunning Dazai had cracked. And you, sweet, loving, caring, kind you had been the one who managed to break him. He had never expected to hear such kind words aimed towards him, he never had expected to show anyone his guilt he carried. He never expected to have someone like you in his life, who would love unconditionally. He thought people like that were fools who were oblivious to the horrors of the world, but you fought frontline and still smiled and loved ceaselessly.

A bittersweet look fell onto your face, and when he felt your thumbs brush something wet away from his cheek, he realized he was crying. Something he had never done in front of someone else. He supposes it was a sign of how deeply he trusted you, when he thought you couldn’t get any kinder, you had shown him that some people simply didn’t have evil in them. Yes you could be selfish, no you weren’t perfect, he knew you were insecure and sometimes your kindness was due to you being a people pleaser. He had seen you become devastated at the thought of someone not liking you, how you’d do something for someone at your own expense because you want them to be happy. For someone who was extremely independent, you were still quite dependent on others' views on you, for someone so trusting, it was hard for you to fully trust someone.

“This was supposed to be a romantic date,” Dazai sighed, a small pout on his lips.

“I think this went quite well,” You replied. You smiled gently as you lifted a strawberry up to Dazai’s mouth. “Say ahh~”

Dazai couldn’t hold back his delighted giggles, happily chomping on the strawberry you offered him. He felt lighter than he ever had, who knew telling someone your problems could make you feel better, even if it's just slightly (get therapy man, it works). You had managed to endear yourself even more to the bandaged man (if that was even possible). If you wanted to get rid of him now good luck, he wasn’t letting you go anytime soon.

If only he could mutter those three words that rested at the tip of his tongue.

#dazai osamu x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #dazai #x reader #imagine #one shot

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kamotecue · 8 months

Note

Ooo we’re gonna need a KCC fic after her move to the arsenal

my heart has a little crush on you ✮ k. cooney-cross

pairing: kyra cooney-cross x reader

summary: it’s not a secret that you developed a small crush over a certain midfielder at the world cup, when you played against them. lioness!reader

warning(s): mentions of suicide.

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

“you’re absolutely joking?” you asked leah who gave you a small smirk that you desperately wanted to get rid of.

“i’m not kidding, l/n. kyra just signed a two year deal with arsenal, it seems you’d be seeing your crush sooner or later.” leah said. you haven’t checked your instagram yet, so you’ve heard from your skipper about kyra’s transfer.

despite leah not playing at the world cup, she was like an older sister figure for you. she’s the only one who knows about your crush on the australian midfielder.

“i’m absolutely screwed.” you said, as leah chuckled at your reaction.

“oh, come on l/n. it can’t be that bad?” you groaned as you thought about what happened at the world cup.

you had defeated the matildas in the semi-finals, when the whistle had blown you watched as your team celebrated. but you had taken the chance to comfort them, they did great after all, and the future is bright for the matildas.

you wanted to exchange shirts with kyra but when you were in front of her, you had tripped on the pitch sending the two of you to the ground.

“i accidentally tripped lee, sending both of us to the ground!” you yelled as leah grinned at you.

“but you still ended up getting the shirt.” you gave her a look, that was not the point. the point was your first interaction with her was bad, like really bad.

“yeah, it was still a mess.” you said, as she just shook her head.

it wasn’t that long before the team returned to london, after training at the adidas headquarters in germany.

you were late for the first time, as you swung open the door, you came face to face with leah who gave you teasing look.

“look who’s late.” katie teased giving you a grin, as you rolled your eyes at her behavior.

“it’s too early, mccabe.” you told the irish full-back as she snickered but held her hands up. you looked at lia who gave you a comforting smile, which you returned.

you removed your coat as it’s a bit chilly outside, not noticing a certain aussie behind you.

“you have a tattoo?” you accidentally had dropped your boots on your feet, a wince escaped your throat as lotte gave you a certain look.

you turned around coming face to face with the aussie who had been occupying your mind. she had a soft smile wore on her face, her dimples were shown which made you swoon.

“yeah, it’s the moon meets the stars.” you felt a lump in your throat as you cleared it. it wasn’t just a tattoo, there was a meaning behind it.

you felt leah’s eyes on you as she knew the meaning behind it. you didn’t like talking about it, because it reminded you about the past.

“is there a meaning behind it?” kyra asked, as you heard someone stood up abruptly.

“maybe one day, you’ll find out cooney-cross.” you said, as you pulled over the work out tank top that had the arsenal crest.

“alright guys, let’s head onto the pitch. it’s time for training.” kim said, as she entered the locker room clapping her hands. you gave kyra a small smile, before heading to leah who gave you a pat on the back.

throughout the whole training, you were a bit more quiet than usual. the team noticed it as you had a few sloppy shots on target, but had perfect first touches, you possessed the ball very well.

but they never scolded you for it, sure they gave you a look that you received, yet it was just that. as the training came to a break, you laid on the pitch. an arm was behind your neck, supporting it while your other arm was over your eyes, blocking the sun.

“are you alright, y/n?” kyra asked, as you removed the arm only to see her taking a seat beside you.

“i’m alright, you?” kyra gave you a soft nod, as she answered your question.

“i’m great, it’s a dream to be playing here.” you gave her a soft nod, understanding her. you couldn’t believe it when arsenal had offered you a three year contract, you currently have a year left once this season ends.

“i didn’t overstep, did i? when i asked you about the tattoo?” you shook your head, as you sat up straight.

“you didn’t, kyra don’t worry. the tattoo is for my bestfriend who died because she committed. i got this to honor her.” you said, as your voice broke at the end. kyra’s eyes widened.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t know.” you chuckled, giving kyra a soft smile who looked a bit confused.

“it’s alright, you don’t have to apologize. like you said you didn’t know.” she gave you a lopsided grin, as you tilted your head.

“would you perhaps want to go out one day?” kyra asked as you looked at her a bit confused.

“like on a date?” your eyes widened, as kyra gave you a small smile.

“when we were against each other, you caught my eyes. it was hard trying to not look at you.” kyra said, as you gave her a soft smile.

“i’d love to, you also did caught my eyes cooney-cross.” you said, as you spent the rest of the break making a small conversation, not noticing the way your teammates looked at you.

steph and caitlin were talking, as leah looked at you with a proud grin.

#kyra cooney cross #kyra cooney cross imagine #kyra cooney cross x reader #auswnt x reader #matildas x reader #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso one shot #arsenal wfc imagine

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katz-chow · 9 months

Note

hiiii, i love your writing so much <33 can you do a cod ghost x afab reader where maybe ghost gets emotional while they’re being intimate with each other? (in a good way, he’s overwhelmed with how close they are and how gentle the reader is being.) reader stops and comforts him and he gets very verbally vulnerable which is rare for him. i guess this would be sort of a fluff hurt/comfort sort of thing? preferably a shortfic, but you can make it long if you want to (i just wanna give simon a hug :((( )

heaven's outreached hands

synopsis: after a long, long time, simon has decided that in the warm glow of your shared lamp in your shared bedroom, that he wants to feel you and truly take back what is his: his body aka: what the ask said!

warnings: smut, hurt/comfort, allusions to prior SA, gn!reader, mentions of attempted suicide/OD, mentions of depressive episodes

a/n: i, too, want to give this poor man a hug as i've said in my previous fic with him. maybe this is our hug to him...honestly, i needed this hurt/comfort more than i thought i did. thanks anon for this!! so sorry this took longer than i expected, i got sick :(

Dating Simon is a test of your patience and determination. And you took on that responsibility like the champ you are. He made it clear when you had first started seeing each other that he’s not…a typical partner, that he needs you to be patient with him, and be gentle with him.

And so you did, You did everything you could, letting him have a few days to himself after every time he came back from his mission. You cooked for him when he could only make cup noodles for himself every few days or so. You even made him take vitamin supplements and locked up his meds, coming over to his flat every day to give him his dose. He loves you for everything you’ve done for him, so he saved up and asked you to live with him.

It’s been months and he’s been acting weird around you, more shy than usual and almost hesitant. He lays next to you in bed, a hand caressing yours as you smile at him—nothing but the warm sheets and his fingers dancing around yours.

“Lovie…there’s something I’ve…wanted to ask you,” He started slowly, again with that hesitant tone filling his voice.

You smiled at him, holding onto his finger as a sign of comfort, urging him on. “What is it?”

He pulled you closer to him by your hand and you agreed, shuffling under the covers to get closer to him. He whispered, taking your hand and kissing it, “I want to try and…get intimate with you.”

You’ve both talked about this before, having sex that is. And the most he’s ever told you was that he doesn’t have a good relationship with sex or anything regarding that. You held his hand and sat across from him, listening and telling him. You both decided to wait a while longer until he was sure he was willing and okay with it; you assured him you could wait. And you did. And he was okay with it now.

“Are you sure, baby?” You asked him gently, your thumb rubbing his hand and then sliding up slowly, hovering near his cheek.

He looked at you, anticipating your touch against his cool skin. Your gentle fingers brushed against his skin softly, he let out a downturned smile. “Yeah…I am. Is that okay with you?”

You nod, letting your hand fall entirely onto his cheek, fingertips messing with his growing blonde hair. You told him you liked his hair, he grew it out for you.

He smiled and pulled you close with a strong arm, kissing your lips lightly. You leaned into him, allowing him to kiss you with more rigor. Simon’s arms snaked around your waist and hoisted you up and over him, teasing at the hem of your shirt. You pulled away from him and took it off, allowing him to take in full view of your bare chest.

Eyes gazed up at you, glossy, adoring, and lustful, a way you’ve never seen them before. “You’re so beautiful, Lovie.”

“I wish you could see yourself in the same way my eyes do.”

You’ve lost track of time with him, the way he carves you with his soft, but powerful grip on the flush of your skin. The warmth of his cock, slowly dragging against your slick, velvety walls. It was different; it was gentle. He whispers against your ear in between his groans and grunts when you squeeze around him. Simon chants “I love you”s like it’s a prayer against the newfound gloss of both your skins.

He had you straddling him, your chest in his face, as he gripped your hips, guiding you down unto him. Big arms wrap around your waist, his face burying into your stomach. Your hands raked through his hair, holding onto him while you bounced on his stiff cock. But soon, you felt him tremble underneath you, and a small “you okay?” made its way out of your mouth.

Simon looked up at you, tears prickling his eyes, “Lovie…”

You gasped as you lifted yourself off of him, his arms still loose, but against your skin nonetheless, allowing you to sit on his thighs. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.” He gasped as small tears fell from his eyes. Like his hero, your thumbs wiped them off as you held his face. “It just…feels good with you.”

Your face falls and you give him a slight grin, “Aw baby, I know…I know.” You cooed at him, getting him to chuckle and hide his face into your neck.

“Feels different with you, ‘m not used to it,” he sighs, letting you pet his hair. You kept your promise with him, you weren’t fast and rough, using him like he’d fear. You treated him like porcelain, not just some toy for your own pleasure. “Not like…like before. Wanted it this time.”

It clicks in your head what he was saying and you can hear your heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces. He feels warm underneath your touch like he burns for you. You provide, he hesitantly takes. “I’m so sorry, Si…I didn’t know.” “It’s alright, I like this.” He pulls you in close to him, breathing in your familiar scent. “Love you…and your smell.”

Simon is here with you, truly here with you. His mind and body and spirit and all that he has is displayed for you to consume as yours. No longer will he recoil at the slightest of touches, flinch at an outreached hand when he’s naked of his gear, no, he’ll accept you as you accepted him.

“I’m not scared of you, Lovie, never will be.”

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iovetecchou · 6 months

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That Funny Feeling ⧸ Dazai Osamu

༞ Contains...! !TW! this fic contains heavy topics such as: suicide, depression, anxiety, and self-deprecating thoughts. hurt/comfort type beat, hugging, gentle touches, hand holding, swearing, suggestive implications but NOTHING actually happened! kunikida is just silly, dazai really is a sweetheart in this ):

༞ GN Reader.

༞ 2,494 words.

a/n: if you have struggled with your own mental health past or present, just know that you are not alone. i love you and am so proud of you for still being here and pushing through each day, no matter how difficult that can be. never be afraid to rely on someone close to you when things become too much to bear, you are worthy of living and deserve to be loved.

Some people just aren't cut out for life. We are all dealt a hand, some cards interchangeable. But for the most part, they mold us; and make us who we are. They map out the rest of our lives. So what are you supposed to do when all the cards you've been handed don't play in your favor?

Even the interchangeable cards; you discard them only to pick up more rotten ones. Your judgment is poor, and your decision-making only gets you stuck between a rock and a hard place.

You envy the people who were gifted better cards. People who were not condemned from the start. Those are the people who make something out of their lives, the ones who are deserving of taking up space.

You know this sounds self-deprecating, and yeah, it is. But to you, it's also logic. You think that's why you dislike Dazai Osamu.

When he talks so freely about death, his desire for a perfect suicide. It makes your stomach turn, not for obvious reasons, but for selfish ones. He plays off his pain as a joke so no one thinks twice about it when he asks a pretty stranger to "commit a double suicide" with him.

You try so hard to conceal your suicidal thoughts, hiding your depression behind a pretty mask. Showing up to work each day with a smile on your face and a "can do!" attitude.

You and Dazai really are the same in that aspect, masking your pain so it's less noticeable to others around you.

Your abdomen twists into knots when he talks so freely about suicide because it causes your mind to wander and your mask to slip. Dazai always seems to pick up on that slight change in you when it happens, too. His chestnut eyes bore holes into your profile from where he sits beside you. You can feel his eyes on you as you try to smile brighter, putting on a chipper face as Kenji updates you on how the cows on his farm are doing.

You hate it. It feels like he's reading your mind; retaining all your deepest darkest secrets. Does your face really give you away so easily? No... It can't be that. You've been working at the Detective Agency for a long while now, and since then, no one else has ever assumed something was wrong with you.

If they only knew how pitiful your life really was. As much as you love all your colleagues at the Agency, you hate working. Waking up is exhausting, and you dread the repetitive daily routines you're forced to accomplish. On your off days, you sit at home alone- by choice. Interacting with others is draining, and when you're urged to participate in social activities, the anticipation and anxiety eat away at you until the day finally comes.

Much like today, the day you've been letting eat away at you since the mention of a work party was brought to your attention. You practiced different smiles and laughs in the mirror, shaking your head and trying again when your "act" seemed too unnatural. You probably changed your outfit ten times before ultimately deciding on the same old thing you usually wore.

Your hands were coated in perspiration as you balled your fingers, making a fist. You took in a shaky breath as you brought yourself to finally knock on Chief Fukuzawa's door. He welcomed you with a tight-lipped smile and a nod of his head, stepping aside to let you through. Immediately, you felt his eyes on you. Dazai watched your little performance as you greeted everyone, and when it was finally his turn to watch your act up close and personal- you froze.

His eyes were too intimidating. You felt exposed in front of him. It irked you that he had such an effect on you. Why was it so easy to pretend with everyone else but him?

"Aww, where's my greeting?" Dazai smirked devilishly at you, raising his eyebrows slightly as he leaned in close. All-encompassing, invading your personal space.

You remained quiet. You were on the outside looking in, screaming to yourself to say something- anything. Your gaze shifted to the floor as your hands came up to bunch up the hem of your shirt, rolling it between your fingers; an attempt to self-soothe.

"I..."

"Oi! Stop teasing them, Dazai," Yosano shouted from the kitchen, plum-colored eyes still fixated on the fizzy concoction she began making for herself.

The sound of Yosano's strong voice ripped you from your stupor. Your head shot up, only to notice Dazai was still gazing at you- studying you.

"I would do no such thing! I'm hurt that you think so low of me, Yosano!" Dazai's intense gaze finally eased up on you as he whipped his head around to face Yosano. The tall brunette man clutched a hand over his heart in feigned affliction.

You took that as your opening to slip away, excusing yourself to the restroom. You hardly noticed the way Dazai's attention was drawn back to you at the sound of your hurried footsteps. "Hey- wait up!"

You quickly pulled the bathroom door shut behind you. You could hardly look at yourself in the mirror, too ashamed of yourself for freezing up back there. The cool tile floor welcomed you as you sunk, curling into yourself. You hugged your knees as they drew closely into your chest. You could feel your rapid heartbeat in your throat, anxiety rising by the second.

"You know, I wouldn't be sitting on the floor if I were you. Let's get you up." Nothing registered until you felt firm hands grasp your biceps. A strong force drawing you up to rely upon your shaky legs.

"Why- what are you..?" Your sentence fell off. You weren't entirely sure what you were trying to ask. Your mind was too convoluted with disappointment; shame for yourself.

"The door was unlocked so I figured I'd let myself in! You weren't looking too hot out there, and I wanted to check up on you." Dazai's warm hands still cradled your biceps, untrusting the support your trembling legs half-heartedly gave you in your current state.

"I'm fine," You chuckled out of nervousness before continuing, "I'll be out in a minute, so you can just go." You could tell by how Dazai looked at you that he didn't buy your lie, not even for a second.

He let out a deep sigh, large palms moving up to your shoulders before he blurted out, "Stop, just- just stop. You're not fooling me, so quit it with the peachy-keen act. Why do you insist on hiding behind a facade?"

"Why do you?!" You shouted back. You brought your hands up to swat his hands off your shoulders. The shift between distress and rage made your legs feel more grounded.

Dazai gaped at you for a moment. He genuinely looked taken aback before his face shifted into a tepid expression. He let his arms settle against his sides, his demeanor appearing more taut than usual.

"This isn't about me. Stop deflecting." His voice was eerily calm, making you feel unsettled. Seeing a more serious side to Dazai was far and few between for you.

"But it is! I hate you... I hate you so much. You- you..." Your vision began to blur as tears spilled past your lashline and down your sullen cheeks. How embarrassing, you thought. Crying in front of the man that made your stomach turn.

Dazai brought his hand up to your cheek, brushing away the onslaught of tears with the pad of his thumb. "I believe that hatred is displaced. You just don't want to acknowledge that."

Your eyebrows scrunched up in confusion as you drew your hand to grasp his wrist. You tugged with all your might to pull him from your cheek, but no give. Dazai stubbornly kept his large palm on your face. The warmth from his hand seared your skin. It was neither comforting nor unpleasant. Just... unfamiliar.

"You're wrong, I hate you-"

"No, you hate that you see yourself in me."

Your hand fell from his wrist. He was right, and deep down, you knew that. But you refused to admit it. It was shameful. You liked to hate Dazai because it took attention away from the real problem at hand, yourself.

Dazai let out a sigh as he continued to wipe away your tears. "Tell me to stop if you hate it, but I'm going to hug you now." Before you could process, Dazai embraced you. His hand that was caressing your face only moments ago now cradled your neck. His other arm wrapped around your frame, enveloping you.

"I understand your pain well... I can see myself in you too. But I don't despise you, you know. I actually... worry for you. You try so hard to pretend that everything is fine. It must be exhausting."

It felt like your heart was being squeezed, as if your ribcage was collapsing in on itself. His words shot right through you, as did the guilt. You had been so unfair toward Dazai up until now. Using your displaced disdain for him as a distraction because you were too much of a coward to hold yourself accountable.

It ached so much to come to terms with. Your arms felt heavy as you pulled them up to wrap around Dazai's lanky frame. You quietly sobbed into his chest, grasping your hands into the back of his shirt desperately; as a small child would cling to their mother.

Dazai hummed softly into your hair, welcoming the silence with open arms; as he did you. You were sure all your colleagues were wondering why Dazai and yourself had been in the restroom for so long, but you hardly cared at this very moment.

For the first time, in a long time, you felt seen. Like you didn't need to hide when Dazai was in your presence... because even if you did- he would know. Being vulnerable felt similar to what you imagined walking a tightrope hung across two tall skyscrapers entailed. So, to say you were apprehensive about this was an understatement.

However, in the same breath, it felt freeing. It took a little bit of weight off your shoulders to share your burdens with another person. But never in a million years did you think the person who brought you solace would end up being Dazai Osamu.

"I'm sorry, Dazai- I'm so fucking sorry. I-"

"It's okay. Believe me, I treated people a lot worse than this from my own displaced hatred," Dazai interrupted. Caressing your hair softly, hyperaware of the wet feeling seeping through his shirt and smearing over his skin from your tears before he continued,

"Just... just promise me you'll talk to me if it ever becomes too unbearable to handle on your own. I know how it sounds coming from me, I'm a hypocrite- huh? But trust me when I tell you… you are deserving of this thing we call living. Even if you can't see it yourself, I can... and I will remind you of that fact until I'm blue in the face if I have to."

You pulled back from Dazai's chest as you sniffled, eyes scanning his stoic face. He smiled at you softly, rubbing up and down the sides of your arms in a comforting way. "There you are. I was beginning to think you cried your face off!" You chuckled at his dumb quip, letting your fingers untangle from the cloth adorning Dazai's back.

"Well, this is embarrassing... and I'm sure at this point all the others think were up to no good in here." It was Dazai's turn to laugh as his hands drifted lower, grasping yours softly. Your fingers intertwined as a lopsided grin painted your face.

"So let 'em! Who cares? The only thing that matters is that your heart is beating and you're here. Still standing in front of me." Your smile dropped slightly, the urge to cry bubbling back up, making your throat tighten.

"Dazai," You tightly squeezed his hands within your grasp. Scared that if you loosened your grip for even a second, this moment would be gone before you could say everything you needed to. "I'm really glad you're still here, too."

Dazai closed his eyes for a moment, his smile wavering. "There's so much pain in the world... sometimes it's hard not to notice it. I couldn't shut it out every time I felt your distress. That's why I kept a close eye on you all this time. I'm not just some creep with a staring problem,"

You both laughed at that sentiment before he continued, "I know with each day those painful thoughts are waiting for you. But it's not only that, there's also possibilities. Possibilities you can only discover as long as you're alive."

Your hands still clutched his with great force. His words caused you to cry once more as Dazai's eyes softened. He quietly cooed at you, whispering "don't cry," so gently, it was almost inaudible.

"Dazai... I hope you know the same can be said for you, and your life," You paused, trying to swallow that lump in your throat before you continued. "I... want to help you- help you live. I know it doesn't mean much coming from me, but as long as you're still here I will do whatever I can to help you. I swear it."

Your tear-filled eyes bored into his chestnut ones. Desperately hoping your words got through to him. Dazai inhaled a shaky breath, eyebrows raising slightly. His lips curved into a tight-lipped smile before he let out a small chuckle. "You're really something else, you know that? Not even ten minutes ago you were shouting about how much you hate me. Now we're best buds... how cute!"

You knew he was deflecting, you guessed being vulnerable was just as daunting to him as it was for you. Before you could say anything more, the door flung open. Both Dazai and yourself whipped your heads in the direction of Kunikida shouting.

"Dazai! Just what do you think you're doing- wait a damn minute! What did you do to Y/N to make them cry?! Get away from them this instant you damn pervert!"

Kunikida gripped Dazai by the collar, dragging him out of the restroom. When your hands untangled from his, you felt uneasy. There was so much more you wanted to say, but it would just have to wait... for now.

You couldn't help but chuckle to yourself at the sound of Dazai shouting for you to help prove his innocence from presumably the living room. For the first time since you stepped into the bathroom, you looked at yourself. Taking in your disheveled state.

Ah, there it is again. That funny feeling.

don't accuse me of making this a self-insert, i will cry!

#dazai osamu x reader #dazai osamu x you #dazai x reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai x reader #osamu dazai x you #dazai angst #dazai osamu angst #dazai osamu bsd #bsd dazai #bsd dazai osamu #bsd x reader #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you

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squirmhoney · 3 months

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LIFE'S BETTER ON SATURN |

PART TWO

A/N: Sorry for the warnings but reader has been going through it since the last part. Also I read through this once, it was way too long to read through several times. Enjoy.

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader Warning: Dark Smut. Fingering. Oral. Pet names. Praise. Overstimulation. Submissive behaviour. Violence. Kidnapping. Drugging. Angst. Suicide attempt. Mentions of depressive thoughts. Non canon ages. 18+ Context: Timeline is based loosely on the "Batman: Under the Redhood" comic. However, characters are aged up. Jason and reader are 18+.

PART ONE HERE

As always Minors DNI.

Some days were better than others but you hadn’t had a truly low day for at least three years now.

People grieve in different ways, that’s what you would say. However, every time you talked to Dick, which was an occasional call every month or so, he’d tell you it wasn’t healthy. You’re latching onto a ghost, I really think you should see a therapist.

You’d always roll your eyes, making up the quickest excuse you could muster up. Normally it was the little money you had, how could you possibly afford therapy while working some shitty receptionist job at the Gotham City’s Police Department.

Bruce would pay for it.

That name still made your whole body tense, bile rising up in your throat. You never had forgiven him, especially after bumping him into last year and being introduced to Tim Drake, clearly his next prodigy.

After threatening to cut contact with Dick as well, he stopped nagging and allowed you to live your life. Even if he didn’t see it as a life worth living.

Today was one of the more sombre days as you walked through the Gotham streets to get to work.

The streets were too busy for comfort as people constantly bumped into you and you knew you shouldn’t have bothered to answer your phone but you hadn’t been thinking when you saw Dick’s name light up your screen.

When a heavy shoulder crashed into yours, your phone had gone flying into the crowd of people. Only to find it crumpled on the floor in pieces within seconds.

Once five o'clock rolled around, you had completely forgotten that Dick had called you this morning and that you had been meaning to call him back. The only thought in your mind was the leftovers you had in the fridge.

When you stepped through your front door, you realised that the winter breeze had made its way through into your shabby one bedroom apartment. You were quick to turn the heating on before running over to close the window you had managed to leave open.

That should have been your first sign.

Unfortunately, out of all Bruce Wayne’s adoptive children, you had always been the last one to catch onto things.

It was only when you reached your bedroom did you realise something wasn’t right. Your drawers were open and were completely emptied. But you tried to not let that alarm you, carrying on with your routine as usual as you walked back into the kitchen.

Your pistol was in the kitchen, you thought to yourself as your feet dragged you there.

In the darkness of your front room you couldn’t see him and you were glad that you hadn’t yet turned on all the lights. You had a chance.

You were slow in opening the drawer next to the sink, trying to make it seem as seamless as possible.

But then you could feel him behind you and you found yourself twisting around, gun aiming for the man in front of you.

You had never seen this man before, the outfit he was wearing too expensive to be some random thug working for someone else.

His attire was all black, military armour, almost how you remembered the other’s suits when you had last seen them. Then there was his mask, a crimson red, attached mechanically to the rest of his suit, some sort of technology you weren’t familiar with.

Bullets were sure to be useless against him. They’d probably end up bouncing off, doing more damage to you than him.

“Don’t come any closer,” you sternly said, trying not to seem as scared as you were.

You were terrified, this man literally towered over you. The way he tilted his head, mocking you as you aimed the gun directly at his head.

“I’m warning you,” your voice was shaky, hands trembling as you clutched onto the pistol.

“I bet you wished you had learnt a bit of self defence,” the robotic voice said, taking a step closer to you.

“I don’t need it.” You eyed him from head to toe, hoping to see a weak point in his armour, anything to help you out.

“You and I both know bullets aren’t going to do anything,” He took a step closer, the gun pressing against his chest.

You were trembling, eyes brimmed with tears as you tried to hold it together. “I won’t go with you,” you spat at him.

“You don’t have a choice,” he closed the distance between you now, gloved hands covering yours.

“We always have a choice,” your voice croaked, a sob lodged at the back of your throat as you flipped the gun, holding it against your chest.

“Y/N,” he demanded, hands moving against yours.

“I won’t go,” you cried out, finger moving over the trigger.

But it was too late, the man had swiftly aimed the gun away from you, the bullet flying into the wall. He pried the gun out of your hand then, throwing it across the room and into the darkness.

You crumbled then, sliding against the cabinets behind you into a heap on the floor.

“Are you crazy?” The man questioned.

He wasn’t as close as he was before you realised and before you knew it, you found yourself scrambling for the door.

But as your hand reached for your door, an arm wrapped around your waist while a cloth was placed over your face. You inhaled what must have been chloroform, leaving you unconscious in seconds.

Death would have been better than this, you thought. Anything but this.

You awoke wrapped in silk sheets, head fuzzy still from the drugs you had inhaled and eyes taking their time to fully open.

It took a little while to remember what had happened, your groggy mind going over the details as you fought to lift your body from the sheets. Once the drugs wore off a bit more, you found yourself scrambling around to find some sort of light source in this dark room, knocking things over in the process.

“There’s a switch to the right side of the bed,” a voice called out from another room.

For a moment you froze, before your hand slid against the wall beside you, finding what you had been looking for.

You blinked at the brightness, taking a moment to adjust before you looked around the room. It wasn’t at all how you expected. Beige walls and duvet set you were draped in to match. An oak bookshelf opposite the bed and a pair of cream bedside tables to either side of you.

It was almost homely and it made you hesitant to move.

“It took you a while to wake up,” the voice was back again, coming closer now. “I thought you’d wake up on the journey at least.”

You didn’t know what to do, searching around the room for something to use as a weapon.

“I was honestly a bit worried about you there.”

He walked into the room still dressed head to toe in that suit of his and you were still defenceless as you sat in the middle of what you imagined was his bed.

“You haven’t been out that long. We’ve only been here ten minutes.”

He didn’t even walk over to you, passing the bed and walking through another door to the side, out of sight.

At the bottom of the bed was an oversized t-shirt and what looked to be a pair of your pyjama shorts laid out.

“Are these clothes supposed to be for me?” You asked, your mind struggling to wrap around what was going on.

“I thought you’d want to change into something a bit more comfortable when you woke up,” his voice was different when he spoke now and you were sure he had taken off his mask.

You wanted to say you almost recognised it.

Your fingers touched the material of the t-shirt that clearly belonged to the stranger, realising there was no harm in changing into it. You were probably feeding into some sort of sick fantasy but if it kept you safe, then you’d play into it.

“Why have you brought me here?” You asked.

“Where did you expect I’d take you?” He retorted.

“A warehouse or something,” you replied.

“You’ve listened to too many of Dick’s stories.”

It hit you then, there was no denying it. You could literally feel your heart thudding in your chest as you turned the corner, reaching to where the man was standing.

You couldn’t even look up, eyes taking in the purple and blue bruises that littered his back and rib cage. His face was ducked down towards the sink, covered by his hands as he seemed to be washing his face.

But you didn’t need to see his face to know who it was.

“Jay.”

You felt like the air had been knocked out of your lungs, struggling to breathe as your hand reached out to him. But then you felt yourself stumble backwards, hand clutching at your chest.

“It can’t be,” you said to yourself, eyes closing as you pushed out the thought.

He was dead. He wasn’t coming back.

“No, no, no...” You repeated, gasping for air at this point.

“Y/N,” he pleaded with you and you felt his hand grab yours as he placed it against his chest. “Open your eyes.”

“No,” You cried.

“It’s me, Y/N,” his tone was almost as distraught as yours. “Look at me.”

You did.

He shared the same dark hair and teal eyes as your Jason. The same chiselled features and sharp nose. He’d lost the roundness of his cheeks, completely dropping the baby weight his body used to hold onto. Then there were the bags underneath his beautiful eyes, showing the tiredness that time had done to him.

But it still wasn’t fully registering as you took him in.

“Breathe,” he demanded of you, pressing his free hand against your chest.

You let in harsh breaths, forcing yourself to calm down as you realised it was him.

“Breathe.”

You sat on different ends of his couch, unable to stop staring at each other.

A part of you wanted to touch him, to reassure yourself that the man across from you was Jason. While another part was still trying to register it all.

He explained everything from that terrible night he had never returned home to you, to the Joker beating him to death, then to the lazarus pit. Then there was the time after that, unsure of who he was or where he was, wondering about different countries he couldn’t even name. His memory wasn’t all there for the first two years but it eventually came back, along with you.

“Why didn’t you just take your mask off when you came to my apartment?” You asked, feeling more relaxed now.

“It’s been years,” Jason reminded you. “I didn’t know how you’d react.”

“I think it would have been better than me trying to kill myself,” you told him.

He hummed in agreement at this. “It’s just lucky that you don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Lucky for who?” Your voice was teasing.

“For the potential boyfriend,” his lips turned up into a smile at this. “God knows what I would have done to him.”

There was silence between you as you both stared at each other, unable to find the words to say. You didn’t really have anything left to say, no not really. What you really wanted to do was touch him. To feel his skin against yours until your mind became certain that he was real.

It’s as if he knew, hand grabbing your leg to yank you towards him as he said, “Come here.”

Then he was on top of you, arms caging you in as his head rested against yours.

“Touch me,” he wasn’t begging you, he was commanding, a darkness laced in his tone that you had never heard before.

“Where?” You gulped, hands fumbling beside you.

“It’s like you’ve never touched me before,” he chuckled, into your lips.

“Ja-” his name was lost on a kiss, the breath being stolen from your lungs as he took over your senses.

You were eager to kiss him back, hands tugging him further down as they wrapped behind his neck.

There was a sense of urgency between you both, your hands keeping him tied to you while his hands snaked their way under the t-shirt, hissing when he finally got to feel your bare skin. He was quick to strip it from your body, craving to see all the parts of you he had missed so dearly.

His lips were on you in an instance, leaving a wet trail from your neck as he sucked and nibbled all the way down to your chest. He was desperate to leave his mark in shades of purple and red across your skin, finding his chest ease at the sight of you covered in him.

He had been obsessive before but never like this. There was a guttural need to claim you now. To know that you were still his as much as he was yours.

He hadn’t even realised how far down he got, face resting against your lower stomach. But once he realised, there was a different need he had, one that was desperate to please you.

That was when he found himself swiftly wrapping your plush thighs around his shoulders, letting his thoughts take over.

You weren’t sure on how you felt about this, you felt like the pair of you were going too fast. You hadn’t seen each other in five years and in a few hours of being together, you were already wrapped up in each other’s limbs.

Those thoughts were soon buried when you felt his fingers slide against your clothed pussy, wriggling from the unexpected touch.

“Hold still,” he growled at you.

But you felt his words on your core, his hot breath fanning against the sensitive skin of your thighs, making it harder for you to not move.

“I fucking missed this,” he whispered, nose nudging against your clit. He couldn’t help but take a sniff before licking a long stripe across the material.

It was amusing how squeamish you were, he couldn’t even deny how much it was feeding into his ego. Even years after him being gone you were still wrapped around his finger as much as he was wrapped around yours.

When his fingers finally slid underneath your pyjama shorts, he almost lost it, being instantly met with your soaked lips.

“Tell me I’m the only one that can get you wet like this,” he demanded, sliding one finger across your folds. “Tell me.”

“You’re the only one that gets me wet like this, Jay,” you swore, looking down at him with pleading wet eyes.

“No one better not have touched this pussy.”

His eyes changed at the thought, growing darker, cold as he narrowed them at you.

It almost scared you.

“No one, Jay.”

His face softened at that, fingers sinking into the place you needed him most. You couldn’t help it when you squirmed this time, his thick fingers stretching you out.

He didn’t seem to care though, too focused on how your spongy walls felt around his fingers. Too busy imagining how it would feel around his cock later.

“You’re so tight,” he commented, entranced in the way your walls squeezed him, basically pushing him out. It was all the confirmation he needed, and at the realisation, his body relaxed. Not all the way of course, not when his fingers were being soaked by your cunt.

You whined at him when his fingers slid out of your cunt, craning your neck awkwardly to try and see what he was doing. But he was swift in his movements, ripping your shorts down until you were bare before him.

Without warning his mouth was on you, tongue dragging lazy circles into your clit, moaning at the taste of your juices. But he didn’t stop there, his fingers returning to their original position as they slipped into your walls, curling in and out of you as he turned you into a pathetic mess.

Your mind was reeling at this, not even sure of the noises that were being torn from your throat as his fingers set a brutal pace. All you were sure about was the burning sensation at the bottom of your stomach, growing with each flick of his tongue and push of his fingers.

He lifted himself from you, mouth detached from your cunt as he watched your form, hips bucking up to reach his face. The way he titled his head, eyebrows raising at you, told you he clearly wasn’t impressed.

He showed you how unimpressed he was, the palm of his hands slapping against your clit.

You squealed at the harsh touch, eyes widening at him.

“Didn’t I tell you to stay still,” he reminded you.

“I’m sorry, Jay,” you told him, although you weren’t sure he was listening.

His eyes continued to glare at you, nose flaring ever so slightly as if he was contemplating what he was going to do with you. Then his fingers sped up, pounding themselves inside of you as if trying to see how you would react.

But you were desperate to obey him, grounding your hips into the couch underneath you to keep yourself still.

“Good girl,” Jason cooed, sinking back down again.

He didn’t waste any time, lips wrapping around your clit, sucking at until he could hear your words slurring together as you repeated his name. You were close, he could tell by the way your walls were sucking him in now, thighs squeezing around his head a bit tighter.

“I forgot how good you taste,” he slurped, breathing harshly through his nose.

You think it was his words that sent you over the edge, the sound of his hoarse voice as he lapped at your pussy. You couldn’t even help but tug on his hair when you finally came, your other hand clawing at the couch underneath you.

You were shaking from the orgasm he was giving you, your whole body feeling the spasms of pleasure he was pushing you through. When it finally washed over you, your moaning turns into sobs and you can’t help but struggle for breath again.

Jason was there though, lips pressing against your cheeks and your eyes, hands rubbing up and down your sides as he made you feel safe.

“I’m here,” His voice is reassuring in your ear.

Your eyes flutter open to see his face, chest easing at the sight as you deeply inhale.

“I made a promise, didn’t I?” He asked, reminding you of all those years ago.

You nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he swore once again.

“I need you,” you pleaded with him, hands moving on their own accord as they trailed down his chest. “Really need you, Jay.”

He stopped your hands once they reached his belly button, not giving you the chance to touch him as he shook his head.

You pouted your lips at him. “I want to help you, Jay.”

“Later,” he told you, his hand slipping in his boxers. “I need to be inside you.”

All you could was watch him, eyes wide as you waited for him to release himself from his boxers. You hadn’t forgotten what he looked like but the sight of his cock still took you by surprise when it was out in the open.

You swore he was thicker than you remembered, maybe slightly longer too. He looked painfully hard as he stroked himself, veins popping out along his length and a thick string of pre cum leaking from the tip.

When he finally reached between your thighs, lining himself up with your entrance, you were more than ready for him. It was clear in your shaky breaths as his tip slid across your folds and the way your legs quivered when his tip finally nudged against your entrance.

Jason’s resolve was crumbling more than yours, he knew it was but he was just better at hiding it. But there was no hiding the hiss that left his lips when he finally entered your walls, fighting against the resistance from how tight you were, forcing himself in. He knew it must be painful for you especially when he noticed you were grinding on your teeth to keep it in.

“It’s okay,” you told him, hand cupping his cheek before wrapping behind his neck to pull him down. “I’m okay.”

You both laid like that for a while, his body hovering over yours as you relaxed your body to get used to him. He rocked his hips back and forth a few times, slowly testing the waters and keeping his focus solely on your face to keep some sort of self control. It wasn’t till you were nodding, wrapping your legs around him, did he finally take it further.

Years may have passed since you had been like this with each other but your bodies clearly hadn’t forgotten.

Jason showed you that as his hands wandered and his hips picked up their pace. Instantly they found a home on your chest, squeezing your breasts as they bounced.

Jason found himself entranced with the sight, ducking his head downwards to wrap his lips around one of your nipples. While his mouth sucked against one, tongue licking over the sensitive bud, his fingers teased the other, pinching it gently.

It was muscle memory to Jason and you felt like he was playing you like an instrument, sharply gasping for air at the sensation. You wanted to tell him how good he was making you feel but you weren’t even sure where to begin as the words became scrambled in your mind.

You were sure he knew when he lifted himself from your chest, resting his head against yours and giving you the softest of kisses.

Your walls were finally greedily sucking him in, clinging to him like your life depended on it. You could tell it was affecting him as much as it was affecting you, clenching his jaw after he delivered a particularly harsh thrust.

A certain look came across his face after this, one you had seen before but it was different. His eyes were darker when they looked at you, the pupils completely blown out and there was no amusement laced on his face as his hand dove between your thighs.

You mewled when you felt his forefinger against your clit, hand grasping at his arm at the suddenness of it. It was shock that took over you as you tried to push him away, eventually settling for grasping onto his arm as he quickened his pace.

It was too much, his cock bullying your cunt, making you feel fuller than you ever have before. Then his hands nestled in between you, fingers working on your bundle of nerves as if it was some sort of toy to him. You let out a noise that is unholy, feeling yourself teetering towards that edge again.

But you couldn’t help but try and wriggle free, tears soaking your cheeks at how overstimulated you were feeling.

It clearly didn’t go unnoticed by Jason and with one hand he’s bruising your hips, holding you in place so he can keep going.

“Nuh-uh,” he tutted, fingers digging into your side to get your attention. “Don’t you dare fucking move. Understand?”

You nodded only to whimper pathetically seconds later as you felt your whole body tensing underneath him.

Jason knew what was happening and on queue he slid out of you, letting his hands do all the work. With each harsh rub of his fingers on your clit, you were gushing onto the couch and squirting over his stomach.

He was mesmerised by it but most of all he was mesmerised by your fucked out expression. Eyes sinking into the back of your skull, mouth strung open as you screamed his name. Only his name.

Then he was shoving himself in your walls again, not even giving you a second to recover from your high. Only groaning at the feel of your wet spongy walls enveloping his cock, dripping down onto his balls as they smacked against your skin.

His body was pressed against yours again, the weight of him holding you down so his free hand could move cup the side of your face. You could feel the wetness on his hands as his thumb flicked against your lips.

“Eyes on me,” his voice was low and sultry as it reached your ears, a deep grumble at the back of his throat threatening to spill.

You listened, gazing up at him through the thick tears that spilled from your eyes.

“Good girl,” his toothy grin poked out, rubbing his hand against your cheek in a soothing way. “You’re doing so good for me. Being such a good girl for me.”

You hummed in appreciation, looking up at him with pure desperation.

You didn’t care that your body was spent, tired from the way he was thrusting in and out of his walls. Or even the fact that he was basically using your body at this point, enjoying the way you were writhing beneath him.

You wanted anything he could give you, you wanted all of it. Even if you left you completely numb at the end of the night.

“I love you,” your voice was barely above a whisper and you were unsure if Jason even heard you.

“What did you say?” He questioned, eyes widening and eyebrows raised.

“I-Fuck,” you struggled, finger nails digging into the skin of his bicep as you tried to ground yourself. “I-I love you.”

“Say it again,” he panted, eyes softening suddenly. His pace was still harsh, hips only rutting faster at the confession.

“I love you,” you told him again. “I love you.”

It was all he needed, mind completely reeling as he came inside your walls. He was a mess, riding out his high until he was completely empty. Once he was done, he didn’t even bother to move, keeping himself buried inside your walls.

You couldn’t help but admire him as collapsed on top of you, trying to regain his composure as his head dropped to your chest. He looked beautiful, a thin sheen of sweat coating his skin, chest heaving up and down.

Your limbs are tangled, unable to move as you both try to regain your breath. But then he’s lifting his head up to get a better look at you.

“I don’t remember it ever being like that,” he confessed, fingers tickling your sides. “Do you?”

“We were teenagers,” you told him, fingers coming up to graze his head. “We also hadn’t been separated for five years.”

“Is it bad that I want to do it all over again?” He asked, head lifting from your chest as he captured your lips in a bruising kiss.

Your hands pushed against his chest, giving you space to breathe. “I think that Lazarus pit has given you more strength than I can handle.”

He’s grinning against, this one’s almost child-like, reminding you of how he used to be. “I’ll let you rest for a bit before we go again.”

“That sounds perfect, Jay.”

You kissed him again, something that was only meant to be as a peck but instantly turned into something hot and heavy as he nibbled at your bottom lip.

It was you that had to pull away, lips curving up into a knowing smile.

“This is going to be harder than I thought,” Jason groaned, finally lifting himself up, letting you see exactly what he was talking about.

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