#midnight mass crack
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I think I'm incredibly funny
We won't talk about how long it took
#father paul#father paul hill#hamish linklater#midnight mass#monsignor pruitt#midnight mass crack#john pruitt#this is fun#Spotify is my bread and butter
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#midnight mass crack#midnight mass meme#midnight mass spoilers#midnight mass#father paul hill#monsignor pruitt#riley flynn#sheriff hassan#bev keane#midnight mass textposts#priley#hamish linklater
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Midnight Mass AU where everything is the same, only Riley says “Ok, boomer,” to John during Episode 5.
#midnight mass#midnight mass spoilers#riley flynn#john pruitt#father paul hill#father paul#midnight mass crack
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I’ve been struggling with internalized homophobia and denied my attraction to men for years saying that Im that type of bi who ‘loves all women and two fictional men’ AND THIS IS WHAT I GET.
#congratulations to gerard way for fucking up my gender AND my sexuality for ten fucking years#actually the thing that finally cracked me a year ago was a slutty vampire priest from midnight mass#...but you can clearly see how that was directly inflenced by what I was into as a 13yo#as in mcr#that shit made me gay I know this deep in my soul
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man what is your fucking problem i just watched midnight mass for the first time and ive been crying hard enough to crack a rib for the past thirty minutes jesus fucking christ genuinely what the fuck
anyway keep up the good work 👍
If Netflix had released a blu-ray set for Midnight Mass, this is the blurb I'd want on the cover
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𝐌𝐢𝐝𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬
pairings: felix catton x fem reader
synopsis: you hate felix catton because of how snobby rich and stuck up he is and when your best friend Farleigh tells you to come to saltburn with him, you have no choice but to say yes.
warnings: mdni 18+, smut, public sex, smoking, degradation + praise (slut,whore, pretty girl, beautiful), riding, pussy eating (r receiving), unprotected sex, period sex, enemies to lovers kinder (one sided).
a/n: guys I feel like I rushed this but I was trying to get this done and out by tuesday latest, felix is the definition of girl dinner.
credits: @cafekitsune @roseschoices line dividers ❥
It’s late, way past midnight sat in the garden hearing the crickets and sounds of birds chirping as you light a cigarette, taking a long drag before pausing and exhaling into the bristly midnight air, sat in pyjama bottoms and a tank top you feel the inclement cold slivering up your fingertips, giving you a case of raymond syndrome.
It’s quiet but peaceful laying against the green grass, taking in another drag from the narrow cylinder in between your lips, tasting the thick smog. You hear the sounds of heavy footsteps behind you, briefly turning over to see him before rolling your eyes and turning back to face the beautiful scenery in front.
Felix Catton. The owner of this beautiful home but it was safe to say you didn’t feel the same way about him, you felt absolute hatred towards him, you didn’t want to be here living it up with all the prissy rich people who loved to flash their money and talk about shit about people they wanted to but your best friend Farleigh begged you to come in his words it would be a ‘hell of a fucking experience’.
Was he irritable- yes but one thing you weren’t going to deny was that he was attractive who in their right mind would disagree, his dark brunette hair complimented his memorising earthy brown eyes, his height would make any person crease and that fucking cheshire smile got you every time.
You feel his presence lingering behind you, almost scared to even approach as you sat in silence for a few seconds, you gently tap the ashes from your cigarette into the grass and you dump the remains into the pond. “What do you want”
You voice is low but threatening, not moving from the current position your in. The sounds of his voice being caught in his throat is evident as he try’s to clear it with a soft cough, “Farley wanted to know where you were”
You scoff, turning around to meet his puppy doe eyes that seem to avoid your intimidating gaze. “So why did Farley send you out to find me”
“Well- I think we need to talk” he replies, voice cracking but confident.
“About ?” your head tilts to the side, eyebrow raised you just wanting the conversation to end so that you could go back to the peaceful silence.
“Do you hate me” the question catches you off guard, surprising you how forward Felix was about your loathing against him.
You sigh, cracking your neck and turning away from him watching the ripples from the pond spread out across the mass of the pond water. “What’s not to like about you….your an asshole, an ignorant rich boy who likes to laugh at those who are less fortunate than you and in general a massive slut”
It was true, Felix was known for being the university’s massive manwhore sleeping around with any girl that would throw themselves his direction, it not only disgusted you but it made you fucking jealous. In some twisted fucking way you wanted to be the one he would bend over and fuck the shit out of, hearing stories from your friends about how much of a good fuck he was made your distaste for him even stronger.
He’s lost for words not saying anything for a moment, you’ve think he’s finally got the hint and pissed off back into the house and you sigh in relief, laying back down on the floor but you hear his footsteps pace around you before stoping in front of you, blocking your view. “What the fuck are you-
It’s quick and sudden, falling onto his knees and grabbing your thighs pulling you towards him. Your confused and baffled, feeling how dizzy you were from the rapid movements as he goes to pull off your shorts along with your underwear.
“Felix get off of me what the fuck are you do-
You felt how embarrassingly wet you were, feeling vulnerable under Felixs unreadable face.
He lowers his face towards your wet pussy, the warm gush of air making you shiver as he finally lets his tongue gently lay across your swollen clit. You gasp, head falling to the ground as Felix gently sucked and nibbled at your sensitive bud.
Your body feels like it’s on fire, the blood flowing throughout your veins, making the beats in your heart beat faster as you unconsciously moan out. He grins, letting you grind into his face feeling the cold sensation of his tongue jewellery, create a cooling sensation on your cunt.
He’s slurping, lapping at your juices and letting out guttural moans, sending vibrations against your clit. He briefly looks up making eye contact with your starstruck eyes as he allows his thumb to gently circle around your bud.
He’s sensual and voluptuous almost making out with your leaking cunt as you try to stay quiet muttering curse words and praises hand, tangled into his greasy hair. You felt painful cramping restricting around your stomach, trying to distract the pain with the pleasurable sensation you were experiencing.
Felix stops for a second coming back up to see his face covered in your juices mixed in with your blood, the feeling dawned on you that it was your period blood on his face and you felt your face heat up as the embarrassment began to bubble in your chest. His finger slides between your folds before slipping it into his mouth, your laid there in shock as you watch how he moans around his fingers.
As if normal he resumes, eating you out more ferociously than before. “y-your fucking insane Felix fuckkkk”
He hums, letting his fingers rub your clit faster as you feel the intense feeling of an orgasm hit you before your slump on the ground, face flushed and mouth gaped open.
He comes back up with blood all over his face and a shit eating grin, “looks like someone’s lost for words”
“Fuck off Felix” your grinding into his hand and he chuckles licking his lips clean, “Seems like someone’s still desperate for my touch I thought you hated me princess ”
“I do hate you the only good thing about you is your tongue” you reply, going to stand up before he pushes you down.
“Since I’m only good for my tongue let’s see how fucking cock drunk you get for me, maybe it will change that bratty attitude” he sets himself beside you, sliding off his briefs before revealing his girthy curved cock, his tip scarlet red and leaking precum.
“Are you going to sit on it or not because I can just go and you can use your fucking hand to get off” your pissed but too aroused to fucking argue, climbing onto his lap and straddling over his tip before completely bottoming out on it. You both gasp slowly, feeling his hands go to grasp your ass before you begin to bounce on it.
You keep a set pace, grinding and vigorously bouncing on him, your hands wrapping around his neck. He invites you into a heated kiss, the taste of your period blood having a addicting sweet metallicy taste mixing in with your bitter tobacco taste.
The grunts and moans, emit from his chapped lips as he slaps your ass with a tight grip. “Look at you so eager to bounce on my fucking dick and I’m the fucking slut” you moan in response, your nails digging into his back leaving moon shaped crescents behind as you scratch and abuse his back.
Your panting feeling the fatigue hit you as he suddenly stops you, “Turn around and face the pond” you stop, turning around as he slips himself back inside you, making you gasp once again. He’s locked your arms with his hand and begins to bounce you on him making your head roll back into him, moaning feverishly the sounds of his harsh thrusts being heard from across the garden.
You feel his hand wrap around your neck pulling your head against his as he nibbles at your ear, “you should see how fucking sexy you look from here….so….fucking….pretty” he thrusts with every word so cock drunk for your brain to comprehend not caring if you could get caught fucking out in the open.
“I bet your wishing that someone would catch us out in the open as I fuck the shit out of you” he mutters, feeling his bruised lips against your nape, leaving love bites all over marking you as his.
“oh my god fuck- felix I’m going to come” you warn, your hands going to grip his thighs, feeling yourself clenching around his dick before you cum with a loud whimper, the warm feeling of his spunk releasing into you as he slows down his thrusts.
“Fuck babe you’ve made such a mess all over me” your still panting, fatigue hitting you as your both sat in silence feeling his heart racing against your back.
You turn around meeting the brunettes gaze before speaking, “Don’t get use to it, this is the last time I’ll ever do anything remotely sexually with you Catton”
“Noted”
You raise a brow, dying for the burning question on your tongue to be answered, “Who told you i hated you”
He smirks, “Farleigh…. he told me when he was going through his drunken rant”
“I’m going to kill that boy when I see him”
#smut#felix catton#felix#saltburn#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x reader#felix catton x reader#felix catton x you#black reader#saltburn imagine#leiswxrld#leiscoven
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As You Wish | Yoongi x Reader
Pairing: Werewolf Yoongi x Reader
Word Count: 21k
Warnings: 18+, Spice but no Smut, Yandere, Obsession, Fear, Non-Consensual Kissing, Grieving, Passive Suicidality, MC experiences major depression, Non-Consensual Touching, Breaking and Entering, Stalking, Depictions of Gore, Blood, Technically Cannibalism? Loss of Spouse, Loss of Child, Forced Found Family, Hunting, Mass Death, Attempted Burning and the stake, MC is hit by a man (not Yoongi)
I do not condone the acts displayed in this story nor do I believe any members of BTS would actually engage in this type of behavior. This is simply written for entertainment purposes and should not be taken as a reflection of my own values, opinions, or morals.
Preview: You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it.
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.
A/N: I’m exhausted and grad school sucks but I really wanted to get this out for your guys. I hope you enjoy it, I spent way more time on it than I wanted to. I really thought it was only going to be 8k yet here we are…21k. Anyway, I miss all of you - sorry this is so long lol, this is SUPER UNEDITED. As usual, I can’t wait to see you in my inbox and comments, I love you and hope you enjoy
The sweet scent of flowers greeted your nose as you cracked open the window for the first time in months.
Despite the warmth of sunshine and the bright green strokes of grass outside, it very well could have still been winter. It felt as if no time had passed since that fateful day. In your heart, winter still raged on. There were gnarled, ice-coated branches there and a torrent of never-ending snow. It had frozen over since then.
You carried this sense of numbness you had never thought you would be capable of, it was as if your very soul had been corroded by frostbite. Any love or passion or warmth had been snuffed out like a match in the dark.
That was the thing about grief, it could change a person into something that was beyond recognition. And your grief was immeasurable.
When you got married, you never imagined your husband would die within the first year.
It truly had been a cruel winter that year. The two of you were making do with what food you had. He had always been so smart, planning out what you could have each day so that it would last until spring. The only problem was the fire wood. No one could have anticipated how cold it was going to be and if you hadn’t burned as much kindling as you did you were certain you would have frozen to death.
You could still remember that gentle look he had given you before he left. The soft touch of his fingers to your cheek, the gentle kiss he left you with. He still had every ounce of charm he had had as a boy. He had always been kind and sweet to you. He was the gentlest man you had ever known. That was why his death hurt even more.
You had been worried the minute he left, but as minutes bled into hours and the winter sun quickly disappeared behind the mountains you were frightened to the bone. He had only an ax and a knife with him. He brought no food and no more clothing than what was on his back. He was planning on making a short trip and if he didn’t come back right away the chances of him surviving the night were slim to none.
His body was found the next day.
Honestly, you didn’t remember that day all too well. Everything was a blur, you could faintly remember hearing the voices of a few men from the village, the feeling of your raw throat after screaming senselessly, and the surplus of food and supplies that were sent your way with small slips of paper that read: “Our condolences.”
They wouldn’t let you see his body and that was something you would never forgive them for. You didn’t care how bad it was, you wanted to see him with your own eyes and you were never afforded that closure. But you had heard enough from hushed whispers outside.
“Pieces,” they had said.
He had been mauled to pieces. They couldn’t even find all of him and what was left of him had huge teeth marks raked through flesh. It was an animal attack. Just like you and your husband, they were hungry.
And now you were all alone. You were a pariah, one that people pitied, but a pariah nonetheless. You would never be able to marry again, not that you wanted to, but no one would want a widow as their wife. That was the way of things, you were meant to live out the rest of your days in solitude. Nothing more than a sad story mother’s would tell their children as you passed through the markets in silence. Your story would become a warning for children not to wander off into the woods. Your tragedy would become a lesson.
The only lesson that you had learned was that love meant pain. You had given yourself to someone entirely, and when they had parted from you, you were left with nothing. That was the danger of love, losing yourself.
After months of wishing you had followed him out of this world, you were hit with the sudden clarity that you were being selfish. He had left to try and save the both of you, but here you were wasting the life he had given you. He had sacrificed himself in order for you to keep living for the both of you.
Choosing to live was so much harder than choosing to die.
You shoved those horrendous thoughts to the back of your mind as you traveled through your small cottage, prying open every stiff window that you passed by. Living meant starting with the little things, like getting your home in order. It didn’t feel the same without him, but at least now that it was warmer out you wouldn’t have to stay inside and constantly be reminded of his absence.
You stripped your bed, gathered up the used linens, and scooped up piles of worn clothes from the floor before depositing them in the basket. You were distracting yourself, that much you were certain of. But any distraction was welcome, you couldn’t bear the silence filled thoughts of him any longer.
You heaved the basket up onto your hip and made for the door, pausing as you were faced with the blooming greenery beyond the threshold. The breeze was cool, the air was fresh. The world was starting over once again, why was it so hard for you?
You shook the troubling thought from your head, squared your shoulders, and took a deep breath. You could at least try. And so, you stepped outside for the first time in months and faced the world. It was almost like nothing changed. The birds still chirped, the insects sang, and the rush of the river called from a distance.
That was the other thing about grief. While it felt like your world ended, in reality, it still rushed onward.
The soft grass sunk beneath your feet and sprung back to life as you walked, your body tense as you approached the forest. You weren’t going in too far, it was just the edge where the trees were still spread out and not too thick. You just needed to get to the river. But you couldn’t deny the sense of paranoia that was set in your bones. This was where he died, where he was mauled and consumed by whatever inhabited the forest. It would make sense that whatever animal that had ended his life was still prowling in the shadows, waiting for its next meal.
“Stop it,” You snapped at yourself, your voice hoarse from lack of use and louder in the soft sounds of nature.
You weren’t going far, you were going to be safe. There was no reason to be so anxious when you wouldn’t be putting yourself in danger. You weren’t walking into the lion's den, you were doing laundry.
Despite your scolding, you still snapped your head in every direction when you finally reached the river. You were unsettled by every little noise, hyper aware of everything that was going on around you. For a task that was so mundane, you felt so on edge.
The rush of icy water against your hands was enough to help you focus on the task at hand. The river had finally unfrozen. While your husband and yourself frequently bathed in the river during the warmer months, you had no plans on doing that anytime soon lest you be chilled to the bone and catch your death. Maybe when you were younger you would have risked it all for a moment of fun. But you were older now, matured by time and tragedy. It was harder to have fun now.
You threw the shirt you were washing on a rock beside you, the force of the toss resulting in a loud, wet slap. Your body bent forward under an oppressive imaginary weight as your icy fingers braced your face, a frustrated sigh leaving your lips causing your body to sink even further.
Living for two people was going to be even harder than you thought. Even these simple, menial tasks felt exhausting. It had been a miracle you had been able to drag yourself out of bed, that you had made it outside, that you had even journeyed to the river. But those things should be easy, so why did they feel so hard?
You felt weak.
Useless.
Helpless.
You couldn’t help but think had the roles been reversed, he would have been stronger than you. He would have mourned but he would have been able to survive. He would have been able to find another wife, he would have had the children he always wanted, and he could have been happy. It was hard to not feel like it should have been you, like you were just wasting the life he had given you. It was hard to not crumble beneath the crashing waves of grief that eroded your resolve.
It was too hard.
A high pitched whimper broke you out of your spiraling thoughts, your hands dropping to your lap and your head snapping to attention. You held your breath and pursed your lips, listening closely to try and hear the sound again.
And there it was again. Although this time it was much louder and much longer. It sounded like something was in pain. And your curiosity got the better of you.
You shifted your basket to the side and stood, gathering your skirts in one hand as you carefully lept from stone to stone as you crossed the river. Your heart raced as you slipped once then twice, the stones slick from the rushing water, but the cries were becoming louder and closer and you felt as if you had no other choice but to find out what they were coming from.
Once you crossed the river, you moved slowly through the grass so as to not startle whatever it was that was frightened. Every now and then you would pause and hold your breath, listening intently for the creature's cries before following them once more. You could just barely make out the shape of the animal, its body concealed by a thick underbrush of branches, leaves, and thorns.
You dropped down to your knees with abandon and blindly reached into the shrubbery. The cries were much louder now as the creature was startled by your invading hands. Thorns raked through your flesh as you grabbed hold of the small furry body and pulled, trying your hardest to gently remove the little animal. A loud cry made you stop, halting all of your progress. It looked like it was tangled up in something.
You quickly moved on to your second plan and softly placed the animal back down before grabbing thorn laced branches and snapping them with your bare hands. You hissed in pain as blood beaded up from the small cuts that now decorated your palms. You couldn’t fathom where this sudden rush of determination came from or why you felt like you so desperately needed to do this. That same rush that came over you to find the animal was present and even stronger with the desire to free it. You felt it on some deeper level, that you just couldn’t leave it behind.
There was a generous pile of branches beside you now and you could very clearly see what you were dealing with. It looked like a puppy. It was very small with soft chocolate brown fur, a short nose, and the cutest pointed ears. Its big brown eyes were welled up with tears, its tail tucked between its legs, and its entire body shook in fright.
Your horror stricken gasp was muffled as you involuntarily covered your mouth in surprise. The poor pup was tangled up in a snare. The wire was cinched tightly around its hind leg, chest, and foreleg, cutting in so tightly that blood was visible on the metal. The poor thing had run right into the trap and was stuck. You could only hope that it wasn’t intended for the puppy, that it had run into some hunter’s trap purely by accident.
Your already lacerated hands went straight back to work trying as you attempted to untangle the snare as gently as you could. You hissed as it sliced your palms but paused only a moment to wipe the blood off on your pinafore before continuing your work. By the time you had finally managed to undo the trap, beads of sweat clung to your neck and the sun had moved a decent way across the sky.
“There you go,” You murmured, “you’re free.”
The puppy, although now free, didn’t move. Its deep brown eyes stared up at you as it continued to whine, its entire body still shaking with unadulterated fright.
“Can you walk?” You asked, sitting back on your calves to get a better look at the animal.
You were shocked when it responded, in a way. The puppy attempted to stand and then walk, but it only made it two steps with a clear limp before it collapsed flat on its belly with a yipe.
“Of course you can’t, I’m sorry,” You cooed as you reached out. Your hand paused in midair, hesitating before trying to touch the puppy. It was probably a wild dog, so it was not a good idea to go touching an animal that very well could bite you, no matter how cute it was.
The puppy, as if it had read your mind, answered for you by leaning forward and sniffing your fingers with a cold, wet nose, before lapping at them with its little tongue. It was like any other puppy then, it wasn’t aggressive yet.
You chewed your lip in thought as you watched the pup. It wasn’t a good idea to take in stray animals, but it was injured and leaving it in the forest would be like ringing a dinner bell for all the predators in the area. All of the blood the pup and yourself had shed was certainly not helping. And then there was the crippling loneliness of your cottage. A dog would be good for that. It would be something to share the space with, something to break up the cacophonous silence. And, when it grows older, it would be good for protection as well. The benefits outweigh the negatives you selfishly refused to think of.
With the pup’s approval, you lifted it up and cradled it into your side much like a mother would her child. You giggled in delight from the feeling of a wet nose burrowing its way into your shoulder and neck, sniffing the cloth of your dress and your skin like it was trying to become accustomed to you.
You crossed the river even slower now on your way back, very aware of the precious animal you were protecting. When you stopped at the river bank, you gathered your abandoned laundry and placed the puppy in the basket. You didn’t really care about the dirt, grass, and blood that would inevitably stain the fabrics - afterall, they still needed to be cleaned and you had much more pressing issues to attend to.
You walked back with a sudden urgency in your steps, a small trill of excitement buzzing in your being. After months of isolation and misery, something so small had brought you joy, something that had been unimaginable a few hours before.
The pup was much calmer now, softly panting instead of crying as it laid in your basket of sheets, eyeing the world that passed by as you brought the two of you back to your cottage. When you made it inside, you shut the bottom half of the door, leaving the top half open to allow fresh air in without the risk of the pup wandering out and falling down the stone steps. When you placed the basket on the ground it nosed at the sheets for a moment before limping out of the basket.
“No, no, no, stay right there,” You chided, gently scooting it back into the sheets, “you’ll hurt yourself worse if you do that.”
You stayed a moment, locking eyes with the pup to ensure that it would stay and understand. When you were certain that it was calmed you finally turned your back and headed into the kitchen. You rummaged through the cabinets, searching for the healing salves and creams you knew had been there months before along with the strips of makeshift bandages.
Within mere moments of turning your back on the puppy you were alerted once more by its cries. It had tried following you again but was now laying in a heap on the floor, tangled up in the sheet and crying from the pressure it applied on its wounds.
You dropped the bandages and rushed to the pup, cooing as you picked it up and cradled it against your chest. The little thing was an escape artist, that was certain.
You let out a deep sigh as an uncomfortable thought brewed in your mind. It was the only option that you could think of, even though it was terribly unpleasant. Before you could dwell too much you headed towards the back of the cottage where a single door was fixed into the frame. It stuck at your first pull but relented on the second, the hinges creaking in defeat as you entered the room.
Any furniture that was in the room was coated with a thin layer of dust having gone undisturbed for months. That old wound in your heart was bleeding around the edges now, the pain of avoided thoughts bubbling back up to the surface.
There was a crib against the far wall of the bedroom.
You swiftly moved to the back of the room and gently placed the pup inside the crib. The sides were high enough that the injured dog would be unable to climb over and you were confident that this was the safest place for the poor thing.
But even that knowledge couldn’t stop tears from pricking at the corner of your eyes as your hands subconsciously cradled your belly. Your pregnancy had been short lived. Losing your husband had been the catalyst to losing your child, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. Even though the midwife had promised you it wasn’t your fault you couldn’t see how that could be true. If you had been stronger, if you had taken better care of yourself, you would have been able to save that last piece of him.
If you hadn’t been pregnant, maybe things would have been different. Your husband would have stayed and you would have figured out how to make it through the rest of the winter. But you had been pregnant, he had left to find more resources because of that, and even though he sacrificed his life for you and your unborn child you hadn’t been able to save them.
You couldn’t see how any of this wasn’t your fault when you were at the center of it all.
The feeling of cool tears rolling down your cheeks shocked you back to reality. You weakly wiped the tears away, sniffed, and shook your head. You needed to clean yourself and the pup up, you had priorities.
You rushed around the cottage, busying yourself with what needed to be done. You ran to the water pump and wet some rags, retrieved the salves and bandages, and grabbed a bowl of poultry meat for the dog. This was a welcome distraction.
You were greeted by excited, squeaky barks when you returned to the abandoned nursery. The pup eagerly paced back and forth, its little tail wagging so hard its entire backside wiggled. You let out a gentle giggle before releasing it from the crib and sitting the two of you on the floor, pulling the pup into your lap and distracting it with a strip of meat while you assessed its injuries once more.
You blinked once and then twice in confusion. You could have sworn the wounds had been much worse not more than half an hour ago. The slashes were still bloody and in need of tending to, but they were not the deep, gnarled gashes that had once needed stitching. You were either still out of your mind or this animal had the fastest healing time you had ever seen.
It was much easier to believe that your mind was failing you. And so, you got to cleaning and wrapping the wounds. The pup was surprisingly well behaved, only whimpering every now and then as you touched a tender spot but it didn’t jerk away and did its best to stay still as it ate. The more time you spent with it, the more you realized it was much smarter and more aware than you had once thought. Everything about the little creature seemed eerily human when you thought about it too much. It was better to not think about it too hard.
Trapped in your own mind, you hadn’t realized that you had finished your work. Not until you felt the gentle lap of a little tongue against the wounds that decorated your palms, jolting you back into the real world.
You pulled your hands away with a pained hiss before reprimanding the puppy, “No, no, no, I don’t know where that mouth of yours has been. The last thing we need is an infection.”
The puppy whined in earnest and nosed at your palm once more before you pulled your hands away again and scooped the little thing back up into your arms. This way, it wouldn’t be able to mess with the cuts.
After you tended to your palms, applying salve and wrapping them securely, you couldn’t help but notice the odd tingling you felt emanating from them. It was warm and fuzzy and completely unexplainable - your salves had never caused that sensation before.
As time passed and the sun crossed over the sky before dipping beneath the horizon, the feeling became stronger until it was a pulse-like thrum causing your hands to tremble before steadily declining until it was nothing more than a memory. And an odd one at that.
It was when you began to turn in for the night, that everything fell apart.
You didn’t notice that the crickets had fallen silent nor that the wildlife of the forest had completely disappeared. You hadn’t noticed the hollow ringing that came from the wind slipping between the trees. It was the calm before the storm, and you had no idea what was coming.
The candlelight was dim, casting soft ochre colored shadows over the wood and stone of the cottage. The puppy slept soundly in your arms. Everything was calm.
That was of course until a howl fractured the peace. It was so loud you could have sworn you felt the floorboards shake as a rush of fright went down your spine. The soft lull of sleep was suddenly long forgotten.
The pup in your arms stirred at the noise, its ears perking up and its head frozen in place as it recognized the sound. It was on high alert. It knew what was out there.
You shakily stood and approached the door, the top portion of it still unlatched and swung outward. Outside of the lamp affixed to the stone above the door, the forest was pitch black. You could barely make out the twisted shape of the trees and the brooke that had once been in sight was obscured. But, what was even stranger, was that you were certain that the shadows were moving.
You tilted your head to the side, squinting your eyes as you tried to make out what exactly you were looking at. And then, it was close enough that the light bounced off of it and you were met with the horrifying sight of a set of bright silver eyes staring back at you from the dark.
You were frozen in an instant. But once you realized those eyes were steadily coming closer with a hulking form attached, you acted on instinct, slamming the door shut and latching it closed. You could only hope that the door would hold against whatever that thing was.
Your chest rose and fell with heavy pants as you became more and more unsettled. Why was it so quiet? Why couldn’t you hear something so big moving? Where was it? What direction was it coming from? Your back met the wall and your weak knees had you sliding down to the ground.
Your entire body was shaking in pure terror. There was something out there, something massive and monstrous. You held the pup in your arms tighter, bringing it to your chest for comfort as well as protection.
You yelped as a loud bang popped the eerie silence. Whatever it was, it was slamming its body alongside the cottage. But it wasn’t doing it mindlessly, like it thought it could break through the walls. It was purposeful, it was an attempt to frighten you and determine where you were. It was smart.
You curled into yourself as it came closer. You could hear heavy, sharp pants in between the vicious snarls that it was making. It sounded wild, primal, and predatory. It was hunting.
The pup in your arms began whining and wriggling around as it tried to escape your grasp and all it was doing for you was frightening you even more. All it was doing was making more noise, drawing more attention to itself. And you knew it had, the creature outside had gone silent. It was listening.
And then chaos unraveled in seconds.
You couldn’t even scream when the door was ripped from its hinges, the beast breaking through it like it was wet parchment. You were petrified in place, hyperventilating and trembling at the sight of it.
It was a giant wolf. It was covered from head to toe in midnight black fur although there were spots that seemed thinner than others that were littered in scars - slashes and bite wounds from what you could only imagine were others of its kind. It was larger than a horse with a head so huge it could bite your own clean off in one impressive snap. And then there were the eyes. They were glowing an ice cold silver in the dark with a glare that felt sharp enough to slice through you while a gnarled scar marred the fur and skin of its right eye.
Your body slowly began to slump to the ground, falling weak before the wolf. You looked like the perfect prey, like a rabbit that was so frightened its own heart had stopped. It seemed that the wolf thought similarly. It approached you slowly like it was still on the prowl as angry snarls left its gaping maw. You could feel your blood run cold as you caught sight of its enormous teeth, each one long enough that they could be made into daggers. Whatever this creature was, it was no mere wolf, it was something else entirely.
Your hold on the pup was weakened as your chest and forehead met the ground, bending beneath the invisible weight of the wolf’s presence. From beneath the cover of your hair you could make out its large paws and hooked nails mere inches away from you. It was so close now that you could feel puffs of its hot breath disturb your hair and ghost over your neck. You were breaths away from death.
You couldn’t decide if you wanted to flee or embrace it as you had once desired.
A soft whimper involuntarily escaped you as you waited, feeling the tip of its nose brush over your head as its snarls grew louder. A sudden loud yapping broke the tension.
The pup was frantically barking at the wolf and lunging at it in a playful manner all the while standing in front of you like it was trying to protect you. The sight would have been comical had you not been on the brink of passing out. This tiny puppy was fiercely defending you against this monster.
And, to your surprise, it was working.
Once you gained the courage to raise your head you were met with the sight of the wolf’s intense gaze trained on the puppy. More specifically, its gaze was trained on the bandages covering its wounds. The wolf looked back at you, its hauntingly silver eyes making you flinch. It continued to stare at you for a long moment like it was contemplating something, that of which you were unaware of. But then its gaze hardened and its predatory stance relaxed. It had made its decision.
Without another snarl or howl it nipped the pup by its scruff and began to carry it out of the cottage. It stopped for a moment once it had successfully squeezed out of the broken door frame and looked back at you, this too was a look that you were unable to decipher. It gave you a slow blink and then turned, carrying the pup back to the forest and disappearing into the darkness.
It was in that moment that you finally realized that it had not been a dog you had rescued, but that wolf’s pup.
And with that realization you completely collapsed to the floor and were dragged into a dark, dreamless, restless sleep.
~~~~~~~
Yoongi had come to realize that there wasn’t much that you could do to discipline a two year old, especially a two year old that was a shifter.
His daughter, Binna, had little control over her form and had a knack for slipping away and getting into trouble. That was something he could blame on his other pack members, specifically the youngest three.
He huffed out a sigh as he carefully extracted twigs and leaves from her messy hair, flinging them back into the underbrush. She was the very definition of a wild child. And while it wasn’t uncommon for pups her age to be curious and adventurous, it was uncommon that she so readily welcomed and followed humans.
Humans were dangerous, that was something he had tried his best to get her to understand but she simply couldn’t. She was too young to understand how they could hunt her and hurt her, far too young to realize what that meant, and far too young to understand that it was a human that had taken her mother away from them.
Then again, she hadn’t known her mother all too well. That was evidenced by her clinging to any female shifter she had found and babbling out “mama” to the wrong mothers. She knew her mother was missing, but she couldn’t match the face to the name. He couldn’t really blame her all that much. Her mother had been amongst the best hunters and was oftentimes absent as she hunted for the pack’s survival. Yoongi was a defender, he was there to ensure the safety of everyone that resided within their territory. He was at the front lines. And because of that, his wife was often gone and he was almost always home. To his daughter, her mother was a faceless being.
“Let me see,” He demanded firmly, trying to unwind the bandages that were already slipping from her skin.
She nipped at his fingers playfully, her serrated canines gleaming as she giggled. Yoongi tried his best to suppress his smile, he was supposed to be upset with her. He sighed once more and grabbed the edge of the bandage and began to unwind it.
“No,” She cried in a drawn out whine, “Mama gave me! Mama gave me!”
Yoongi froze, startled as he registered her fractured speech. She thought that human in the cottage was her mother.
He could see why she would think that, you had taken care of her after all. From what he had seen from the wounds he knew they came from a hunter's trap, snares made from silver that were so small they had clearly been designed for pups as no adult shifter would ever be able to be caught in that small a snare. It was clear that you had rescued his daughter and taken care of her in his absence.
And for some reason, Yoongi could only press his lips together in a firm line and failed to correct his daughter. At the end of the day, she wasn’t necessarily wrong.
Yoongi knew you.
He had known you for a while now. He had watched you the day you and your husband had moved in. The two of you had chosen a location that was incredibly close to their territory and so he scouted you out for days to ensure that you wouldn’t stumble too far from your home, to ensure that you weren’t a threat.
He had thought you two were safe, and that was his biggest mistake.
Yoongi would not say that he was enamored with you, but he was definitely interested in you. He had gone his entire life knowing to never trust a human, but as he observed he couldn’t help but be enthralled by your little human quirks.
You were so blissfully unaware of his presence as he silently stalked you. Your husband, like his wife, was often gone during the day and you were left to amuse yourself. For someone of your age, you had this odd youthful aura about you. He would watch as you would jump into the brooke, spinning around and splashing with abandon not unlike his child would.
That version of you that he knew though, that was long gone. Loss has aged you, hardened you. Even though you were completely ensnared by fright he could see the hollowness in your eyes when he had ripped your door from its hinges.
The both of you had been irreparably changed by loss.
And then there was the other problem. He was indebted to you and you were now in his care. While he refused to acknowledge any attachment he felt for you, he couldn’t deny the attraction. It was incredibly wrong considering his own disdain for humans, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something else there, this odd discomfort in his chest that demanded to be felt, a sour feeling in his stomach at the thought of your frightened face.
This was not good.
Contrary to popular belief, wolves do not mate for life. And as a shifter that was even more true. While many chose to bond to one another, it was not horribly uncommon to find a new mate if one were to leave or die. And, very rarely, there were intense bonds that made it so that you did mate for life. In the case of his wife, it was not that type of bond. Of course he was hurt, of course he missed her, but it was not the debilitating grief that you experienced. It was natural for his kind, evolutionary even.
The attachment, this bond he felt for you paired with his daughter’s stubborn belief that you could be her mother made him make a decision far faster than he should have.
You lost a husband, he lost a wife. An even trade. Why could you not fill those roles for each other?
~~~~~~~
The following days were ones where you lived in a state of fright and confusion.
When you awoke the next morning you were greeted by the feeling of the floor against your cheek and a stiff ache in your joints. Apparently, you had spent the night collapsed on the floor.
When you finally mustered up the strength to stand there were several things that were brought to your attention. Firstly, that there was now a gaping hole in the wall from where your door had once stood. Secondly, the events that occurred the night before had not been a grief conjured hallucination. And thirdly, the pain in your hands had completely disappeared.
Upon unwinding the bandages you were met with completely closed wounds and thin scars that looked years old. Your suspicions had been proven correct, that wolf and its pup were certainly not just animals not with the way a few stray licks had healed your palms. Your fingers trembled in fright at the realization before you grabbed another roll of bandages and wrapped them tightly in a panic.
Out of sight, out of mind.
You followed the same thought as you gathered up sheets, a cord, and pins with the intention to cover up the missing door to your cottage.
Out of sight, out of mind.
Unfortunately, that was not possible for you. Before you could even attempt to hang the sheets you were frozen in place a foot away from what was once the threshold. On the cobblestone porch was a carcass. You stared at it, dumb in shock as you tried to understand what you were looking at. It wasn’t a complete animal, it had been skinned and cleaned and left on your porch laying out on a thick piece of brown paper packaging. At first, you considered the possibility that it was another mourning gift from one of your neighbors in town but that was very quickly debunked. For one, they typically cooked the meat or met you at the door. And secondly, there were clear claw marks in the bone and large tooth impressions left behind. You had a sick feeling that you knew where this came from. But it didn’t make any sense, no wolf could clean a carcass like this - this was work done by human hands.
Despite your conclusion, when you raised your head you were once more greeted by the sight of the wolf. He was much closer than he had been the first time you saw him the night before. He laid right by the end of the treeline - half of his body submerged in shade and the other half bathing in the golden glow of the early morning light. Those silver eyes were watching you intently, waiting to see what you would do next.
That only confirmed your suspicions, he had brought it for you. It was a peace offering of sorts, a truce. In spite of that knowledge your hands still trembled when you grabbed a corner of the parchment and dragged the carcass past the threshold. The wolf’s alert and tense body almost immediately relaxed. It was like it was relieved.
It stared after you for a moment longer, gave you a slow blink, and then rose and melted back into the forest - vanishing as if it hadn’t even been there in the first place.
And so you hung your sheet, peeled the flesh from the bone of the carcass, and disposed of the remains.
Out of sight, out of mind.
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next day, the makeshift curtain was pulled to the side and wrapped around a bent hinge that was still mounted to the wall. Another thing you were certain wolves were incapable of.
And there, on the stoop, laid a pile of wild berries and fruit on a small, clean cloth. And, not far away, the wolf was there once more. Although this time it was much closer, so close in fact that you could visibly make out the twisted scar around its eye. It was laying down, much like a dog would, with its large head raised in alert. Those silver eyes flicked slowly from the present and back to you three times, a clear signal that it was waiting for you to take them. It only relaxed when you brought them inside just like the day before.
This pattern between the two of you persisted for several days to follow. And, no matter how you tried to forget what had happened that night, this creature was making it virtually impossible. It was ironic how you had once longed for company and were willing to settle for it from a dog but now that you had someone, well something, watching over you you were incredibly unnerved by the ordeal. But you couldn’t exactly shoo the hulking creature away.
And so each day passed and more presents followed. One day it was bunches of wildflowers, another it was game of varying sizes, and another was a thick pelt that had been handcrafted into a blanket for the cold spring nights. You didn’t know how to exactly decline a gift from a mythical creature. Wouldn’t there be horrible repercussions for that?
The urgency to put a stop to this odd arrangement became even more apparent when a gold pendant was left at your door and the wolf had crept so close that it was less than fifteen feet away. It was beginning to make your home its territory and now it was somehow stealing items you had only dreamed of affording when you were young. It was all too much.
You wound the chain of the pendant around your fingers as you hesitantly crept down the stone steps. The creature perked up in interest, elevating its head again as you slowly approached it, your body shaking in fright in spite of your attempts to school yourself into a false confidence.
“I-” You paused to clear your throat, “I can’t accept this. You’ve done more than enough for me, you’re forgiven.”
It only cocked its head to the side in response. You were just a crazy woman talking to an animal, weren’t you?
“Here, take it,” You tried again, reaching out your palm to it as the chain caught the sun and glistened in the morning light.
It was looking at you like you were dumb.
“Fine,” You sighed, “I’ll just leave it here then and you can take it back to wherever you got it from.”
You lightly tossed it onto the grass and turned your back on the creature before briskly walking back to your cottage. And, despite the haste in which you walked, you were no match for the massive wolf.
A startled shriek left your lips as you felt a large, warm body bump against your side and thick fur rub up against your skin. Another shriek was forced past your lips when its tail wacked you on the backside like it had a mind of its own.
Gold glinted in its teeth before the pendant was unceremoniously dropped on your stone steps, the placement much more haphazard than it had been that morning.
If this had happened a few days before, you were certain you would have been more frightened, but now your patience was far too thin and you were in desperate need for your privacy and a sense of normalcy.
“If you’re going to keep bringing me things, at least let them be useful! Like a door, for instance. You know, that thing you ripped off of my home!”
The wolf huffed in what almost sounded like an amused chuckle before rising and stalking towards you, crowding you up against the side of the cottage. Your heart pounded as you realized you had made a grave error, you were not the one in charge here.
You clenched your eyes shut as you felt a warm puff of air over your face and a wet nose prod your cheek. You shook as you remembered the creature's giant fangs and huge body. You were certain now that it was going to eat you now that you had denied it, these were the repercussions that you feared.
What you hadn’t anticipated though, was the feeling of it pressing its head on top of yours and whining like an overgrown puppy. It was acting like you had hurt its feelings. You hesitantly cracked an eye open only to see this huge, scarred, wolf nuzzling your head and then your hands like it was begging for affection.
A surprised laugh came straight from your chest as you shakily began to pet the wolf. The wolf that had previously been ready to kill you after you had accidentally kidnapped its child.
“Alright, alright, cut it out!” You squealed, laughing hysterically as it began to lick you. You quickly froze when you realized that that was the first time you had laughed in months. It was the first time you had laughed since your husband had died.
You gently pushed against the wolf’s large head as you side stepped around it, a frown now tugging down the corners of your mouth. It felt so wrong to be happy.
Your companion noticed your swift shift in behavior. It ducked its head down and nosed at your back not all that gently as you stumbled forward.
“Don’t you have a child you need to get back to?” You hissed, a sudden wave of irritation rushing over you.
This wasn’t all that uncommon for you. The rapid changes in your emotions. It was easy to feel joy wither away to apathy, to frustration, to anger. Oftentimes you felt like you had no control over how you felt and it left you grasping at straws as you tried to hold yourself together. It was just so hard.
“Go on, go home,” You sighed, flicking your hand in the general direction of the trees, “I don’t doubt that you’ll be back tomorrow anyways.”
The wolf stared at you again, as it tended to, before purposefully bumping its large body against you once more and making for the forest. It hesitated for a moment, looking back over its shoulder to give you one last look, and then it was gone again.
That was what you wanted, wasn't it? But if that were true then why did you hate the loneliness that you were left with so much?
~~~~~~~
That morning, early in the morning, you were awoken by the sound of a hacksaw.
For a brief moment, in the hazy grasp of sleep, you allowed yourself to settle back down when you realized it was just your husband getting an early start on the daily chores.
But your husband was dead.
With that sobering thought you jolted fully awake, gripping your blanket tightly in your hands and pulling it up over your mouth as you struggled to control your breathing. Your neighbors were out of the way and they rarely came to visit anymore outside of the kind supply drops they had provided you with throughout the rest of the winter. So, if it wasn’t them, then who was it?
You rose and with the blanket still wrapped around you, you made for the door as quietly as you could. Once again, the curtain was pulled and fixed to the side like it usually was whenever your companion came to visit you. But the person that stood outside, mere steps away, was very clearly not the massive wolf you had come to know.
You could only see him from the back, but he was very clearly a man. He was a decent height with longer, thick, raven hair that began to curl at the ends. From what you could see of him, you could make out stretches of porcelain skin. He was wearing a loose fit white top and he had rolled the sleeves up past his elbows exposing pale forearms with impressive veins and hands that looked like they had been carved from marble.
Your cheeks grew warm as you realized you were spending far too much time appreciating his appearance rather than worrying about what this stranger's intentions with you and your home were. “What are you doing here?”
The man continued his work, sawing at the wood until the cut was complete before he responded. You then realized that he had been very aware of your presence the entire time, he had not been startled at all.
“You asked for a door, did you not?” He replied, sarcasm tainting his words, as he brushed the sawdust from his hands and turned to look at you.
His face was just as lovely as the rest of him. Dark brows, doll-like lips, and deep brown eyes that had the gentlest slope to them. He was beautiful, that was undeniable.
But what was most apparent and most worrying, was the long scar that ran over his right eye. A scar that you had most definitely seen before. Your body stumbled backwards on instinct, trying its hardest to create more distance between the two of you.
The man raised an eyebrow, a look of pure amusement etched into his features, “You weren’t afraid of me yesterday but you are now? You are a confusing little human, you know that?”
“You - that’s, that’s not possible!” You gasped, tightening your hold on your blanket. “What you’re insinuating is not possible!”
He chuckled to himself, leaning his weight back on his hands as he dropped his chin down, “You want me to prove it to you? I could if you really wanted me to, I do like these clothes though so I’ll only do it if you give me a reason.”
The thought of watching this man, creature, wolf, whatever he was burst out of his flesh and take on a different form was horrifying enough that you were certain you would faint at the very sight. Already you were shaken by the thought of this being possible, you didn’t know if you would be able to handle the sight. Not to mention that subtle innuendo that whenever he decided to take the form of a man again he would be as bare as the day he was born. It was all too much.
“Please don’t!” You cried, “Don’t do that!”
“As you wish,” He nodded with a teasing smile as he turned back to the door in progress. “Perhaps some other time.”
“What is it exactly that you want from me, if you are who you say you are?” You asked.
“I am responsible for you.” He said with a shrug, picking up the saw once more and continuing his work as if what he said made any sense at all.
“No, you are not. No one is responsible for me, you owe me nothing.”
“I don’t? I would think I at least owe you a door, that is what you said after all, remember?”
Heat rushed to your face in pure frustration and embarrassment. He was just as infuriating and insufferable as he was when he was an overgrown dog…that is of course if you were truly willing to believe in that sort of thing. But how else could he have known about your request for the door? Why else would he believe he was responsible for you had you not saved his child’s life? Unless he were some creepy, stalking stranger, he would have no knowledge of these events. This man was the very thing your town hunted and was frightened of.
“Just the door then? That’s all? You will leave after you’ve finished it and your debt will be repaid. You will leave me alone?” You asked.
He paused for a moment, a confused expression taking over his face. He looked at you as if he realized he couldn’t comprehend what you were asking of him. “You confuse me.”
“I confuse you?” You laughed, “I woke up this morning to a strange man outside my home claiming to be something that up until this morning I didn’t believe in, who claims he is responsible for me and owes me when all I want is peace and privacy!”
“That, that confuses me.” He admitted.
“What?!” You cried in exasperation.
“How can someone who so clearly hates being alone also want to keep it that way?”
You wrapped your blanket around yourself tighter, as if that would somehow shield you from the sudden sense of exposure that washed over you. You were feeling vulnerable. You were feeling seen.
“You humans are social creatures, not unlike my kind, yet when you need help, when you’re in distress, you push your pack away. It goes against every natural instinct that you have, it doesn’t make any sense.” He laughed with a shake of his head.
“You are alone here, you have no one to protect you. I can keep you safe in every meaning of the word. Whether that means building you a door, forgive me by the way, or guarding your land. I want to protect you.”
There was a gentle flutter in your heart, one that you desperately wanted to stomp out but were failing to do so. You hadn’t been affected by someone like this since your husband and you didn’t know if you should feel guilty about that. He was supposed to be the one allowed to move on, not you. These feelings weren’t supposed to be for you, they were supposed to pass. It was your job to mourn his loss; he was supposed to be your one and only love. These feelings were supposed to be wrong. So why, deep down, did you enjoy them?
Instead of telling him to leave, to abandon his work and yourself, you made the mistake of giving him a chance. You made the mistake of entertaining him.
“I don’t even know who you are,” You said with a laugh of disbelief.
“Yoongi,” He smiled, a wolfish smile, “And you do know me, I’ve been here longer than you know.”
That wasn’t the comforting sentiment that he was trying to make it be. Just how long had he been watching you? You were reluctant to linger on that thought much longer, so you moved on.
“How long will this take you?” You asked, shuffling closer to his work.
“Not long. Lucky you, you happened to pick a shifter whose trade is in woodworking.”
“A shifter? So, that’s what you are?”
Yoongi pursed his lips, his brows furrowed, he was thinking. It was like he was still deciding if he could trust you or not. He was deciding just how much information he was willing to give up to you despite the fact that you had seen him in his other form.
He nodded.
“Are there…are there more of you?”
“Yes,” He reluctantly admitted, you had already seen his daughter after all.
“Why is it that I have only met one of your kind now?”
“Because, we’re discreet. We have to be. You found my daughter in that hunter’s snare, remember?”
“Your daughter,” You echoed, “is she alright?”
Yoongi practically preened at your concern. All you were doing was giving him validation, you could and would be a good mother to her. You could be a good mate for him.
“Our kind heals fast, she’s already running around causing more trouble,” He chuckled, “but don’t be mistaken, I am grateful for what you did for her. You saved her life and you helped heal her. I owe you much more than you know.”
“I saved her life? You couldn’t mean…”
A grim look descended over his pretty features, a dark gaze settling in his eyes as he paused his work once more, his hands tightly gripping the tools they were holding. “That’s exactly what I mean. We have been hunted since the dawn of time. Woman, man, child, it makes no difference to them. Their entire goal is to eradicate us, they think we are abominations. It wasn’t enough that they took my wife, they tried to take my daughter as well.”
Your heart ached in sympathy for him. You knew that feeling, the overwhelming wave of grief and pain that attempted to drown you in your suffering. You had lost your husband and a child, Yoongi was just as familiar with loss as you were.
You crept closer to him, so close that you could feel the warmth that radiated off of his body like a stove. Hesitantly, you reached out to him and rested your hand on top of his. You could feel his grip go lax, his hand relaxing beneath your touch.
“I know how terrible it can be to hear someone apologize and tell you that they know what you're going through, but I think this is one of those rare moments where it’s true.” You said.
You could feel his gaze on you and the scarred skin of his hands beneath yours. He felt so incredibly close, this was the closest you had been to anyone in a while. You swallowed uncomfortably as you felt his hand turn over and the skin of his palm meet yours as his fingers laced their way in between yours.
“My husband…he was killed this winter. I’ll never know what happened to him, or why it happened, but knowing that he’ll never be here again is the most painful thing I have ever felt. It’s indescribable.”
Yoongi tried his best to suppress the inappropriate smile that wanted to make its appearance known on his lips. You two truly did complete one another. You were two pieces of a puzzle that had not been intended to fit together, but had been carved up and forced together. You were altered, created for one another. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, stroking his thumb down the curve where your palm met your finger in rhythmic swipes.
“I know that feeling, I understand it well.”
I understand you, he wanted to say.
“People like us, we should stick together. We can trust one another like no one else can.” He murmured, gently brushing up against your side.
That was enough to wake you up from the dreamlike haze he had put you in. You stepped back, breaking your fingers away from his and holding your hand up to your chest.
It was too soon, too much, you couldn’t be that close to someone, to a man nonetheless. You couldn’t trust him, you couldn’t trust anyone.
Yoongi took a step forward and you took three back, retreating from the momentary comfort you had felt. But instead of looking dejected like you assumed he would, he looked determined, he looked sure of himself. And that only made you stumble back even more, stepping up your stone steps and into the house.
“I’ll leave you to your work.”
This is what you did. Despite the entrapment you felt by your loneliness, it was familiar, it was right. The loneliness was easier.
It was the only thing you knew you could hold on to for certain.
~~~~~~~
In the days that followed, you became antsy to get out from beneath your visitor’s presence.
You hurried past your uninvited guest, hoping that he wouldn’t notice you with his back turned to you. Your hopes were quickly dashed.
“Where are you going?” He called over his shoulder.
You came to a halt with an exasperated sigh, “Am I answering to you now?”
He only hummed in response and for a reason that you could not conceive, it lit you alight with agitation. “Where I go, is none of your concern!”
That caught his attention, his head slightly jerking to the side as he watched you from the corner of his eye. “It’s not safe out there, not when you’re alone.”
“I was fully capable of finding my way through the forest before you got here, I seriously doubt that I have lost all sense of direction.”
“It’s not your sense of direction I’m worried about,” He sighed, “There’s more of my kind out there and more of your hunters - both of which would not bat an eye at a human getting caught in the crossfire.”
“It’s never been a problem before,”
“No, but it is now.” He said with a stern glare, his eyes not meeting your curious gaze, but instead staring into the distance. His shoulders were tense, his forearms flexed, he looked as if he was burdened with knowledge that he could not share.
“Yoongi, what is that supposed to mean?”
“Don’t wander off too far,” He deflected.
You stayed for a moment, suddenly unsure as to what you should do. Moments before you were ready to get out from underneath his oppressive stare, but now you were intrigued. Yoongi had told you about the shared hatred between your species. The humans hunted the shifters and the shifters were reactionary killers. They followed an honor code closely and truly believed in an eye for an eye. So what had happened that now made it unsafe for you to traverse the woods when before it had never been a problem. Why would Yoongi’s kind attack you unprovoked?
Despite your stare, Yoongi was blatantly ignoring you, pretending that he didn’t notice you hadn’t left. That was enough to let you know that the conversation was over no matter how much you poked and prodded.
Without another word, you left. Contrary to what Yoongi had believed, you wouldn’t be traveling too far. Your cottage and the shifter would not be in view, but you knew the way like the back of your hand. It was past the brook, and a good walk through the evergreens. What you were searching for was a small clearing.
The trees lined the space in almost a perfect circle, something that appeared somewhat unnatural amidst the organic shapes of the woods. In the middle, there stood one weeping willow - completely out of place and the only one of its kind. And at the base of its gnarled roots was a simple stone with your husband's name carved into it. The earth was still turned, a reminder of just how fresh his death and the wounds they left behind on your heart were.
You gently lowered yourself to the ground, your skirts folding beneath your knees as your fingers pressed into the dirt. You had often thought about crawling back to him, you had dreamed of being wrapped up in his warm embrace again, the two of you entwined and buried beneath a comforter of soil and flowers. In your dreams you were intertwined so tightly that years from now if anyone were to find you they wouldn’t be able to tell where you began and he ended.
“Hello my love,” You whispered despite no one else being in the clearing. And of course, you were met with the silence, the ever present reminder that he had left you and that he was never coming back.
You sniffled as your fingers smoothed down the fluffed dirt before digging into your basket and pulling out the prettiest wildflowers you could find with which you then began to arrange around the stone. You knew it wasn’t right to spend so much time here, you were holding on so dearly to someone that was gone and no matter how much love you held for him it would never be enough to revive him.
When you were satisfied with your arrangement you allowed yourself to empty your eyes of the last of their tears before patting your cheeks dry with the edge of your pinafore. With clear eyes, you were now able to see a few things that you had missed before.
Hanging from the boughs of the tree were several things. There were colored glass stars and moons that were strung up on several branches all of which varied in color and reflected the sun through them, casting brilliant shards of light over the earth. And, amongst those, were small wolves carved masterfully from wood. You slowly stood, your brows furrowed in confusion as you tapped one of the stars with a shaky finger. It swung back and an ethereal ringing sounded from within it.
What were these doing here? At your husband’s grave?
You looked back at the wooden wolves before you began to piece it together. Yoongi, he had a wife. Was this for her? Was this their version of funeral rites? But if that were true then she would have died recently, but why would she be buried here, where your husband had been killed and laid to rest?
Your heart thumped, your palms began to sweat.
No. No, you refused to believe it.
Their words began to rush back to the forefront of your mind, “pieces,” and “consumed.” Your husband had been ripped apart and eaten, there was barely anything of him left behind.
It was her, it had to have been her, she had been the one to kill him. But if that were true, then who had killed her?
“I am responsible for you,” Yoongi’s words echoed through your mind.
They had a code of honor, they believed in an eye for an eye. Or, a spouse for a spouse.
You turned your back on the burial sight and balled your fists up before pressing them against your eyes. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind. Out of sight out of mind.
Yoongi wouldn’t, Yoongi couldn’t. He wouldn’t do that to you, he wouldn’t take someone’s spouse from them, he wouldn’t make you feel the same pain that he did.
A rumble pulled you from your panicked thoughts, your breaths still fast and shallow. But what you thought had been the earth shaking, was something far more menacing. Across the clearing stood a wolf, a wolf that was not Yoongi. It was too small to be him and the fur was the wrong color. But the size alone told you that it was clearly a shifter and by the way it was looking at you, you were certain that you were in danger.
You stood still, hoping that if you didn’t make any sudden movements he wouldn’t be provoked but you were sorely mistaken. You could see its muscles tensing up as it crouched low and shifted its weight back towards its hind legs like it was preparing to lunge. No matter what you did, it had already made its decision to kill you right where you stood.
You hadn’t realized you were screaming until you felt the raw pain in your throat, your body acting on its own will to survive as you reeled backwards and hastily began to climb up the tree. If you were lucky, it couldn’t climb, but there was still a human inside of that creature - it was smart, you had seen Yoongi hunt you down before, after all.
You shrieked in fright as you heard the mangy wolf approach, its large paws ripping through the ground as it raced towards you while all you could do was try and climb higher. Unfortunately, you weren’t fast enough. The wolf leaped and its massive teeth tore into your skirt and ripped you from the tree. For a moment, you were completely weightless - you were airborne. And in that brief moment of freedom, you were quickly grounded by reality when you came crashing down to the ground, your forehead just clipping the top of your husband’s headstone as you went rolling down into the grass.
You knew what would come next. This time, the embrace of death would wrap around you. There was no getting around this. But what confused your shock ridden body even more was the pure dread you felt from the realization that you were going to die. You had once welcomed death, begged for her, prayed for her even, but now when you felt her looming over you you realized that you weren’t ready.
You missed your husband, but you weren’t ready to join him.
And, just as you felt the hot breath of the shifter mist over the back of your neck, it was just as quickly ripped away.
There was a symphony of snarls that followed, the sound of flesh being torn, booming growls, then a pitiful whimper, and a loud snap. And then, all fell quiet.
You were still dazed as you felt warm arms slip beneath your own, pulling you up into someone’s lap and pressing your body back against an even warmer, bare chest. Long fingers prodded at the warm blood that slid down your temple and a deep, frantic voice echoed in your ears - the words were unintelligible.
“I told you not to wander off,” Yoongi said, his lips just beside the shell of your ear, the first words he had said that you could finally understand.
“I told you,” He repeated, his voice wavering and full of emotion as he trailed off.
You looked at him wearily, your head feeling much heavier than it had earlier. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown. The look on his face could only be described as haunting. He was cradling your face with both hands. His thumb stroked your cheek, but his eyes were trained on the weeping willow. He looked just as shaken as you had been before.
That sinking feeling was back in your gut. The suspicions you had were coming back to your rattled brain. But still, you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck, collapsing your body against his completely as you felt yourself slipping away.
He was calling your name, his voice panicked as he held you against him even tighter. You rested your chin on the pale stretch of skin of his shoulder and started back into the treeline. You were finding comfort in the man that you were almost certain was involved in your husband’s death. You were embracing the suspected killer of your husband.
And in your delirium you caught sight of something out there, something you weren’t sure was even real. It looked like one of the clerics from town, his white robes reflecting the sun as he hastily retreated back into the cover of the trees.
A bloodied, naked corpse laid where the mangy wolf once stood.
You found comfort in a killer as a man of god ran away from the sight of the worst sin, murder.
~~~~~~~
Yoongi’s watchful gaze never left you, even when you thought that you were away from prying eyes. When he said he wanted to protect you, that you were his responsibility, he meant it.
It wasn’t safe for you to be alone this close to the woods and this far from town. Even though you chose to ignore this, he knew that he was right. He was oftentimes put on edge when he would think about the possibility of someone wandering through the woods and stumbling upon your cottage. And, even worse, he could imagine what someone would do when they found a beautiful woman, alone, in the middle of nowhere with help miles away. His paranoid suspicions had proven to be true with what happened days before.
“Who was he?” You had asked when you had woken up.
When you had slipped into unconsciousness he shifted once more, swinging you onto his back and racing back to your cottage. It would have been comical to try and watch his massive wolf form squeeze into your home while dragging your body inside, but in that moment Yoongi had trouble finding anything remotely amusing. He had been too frantic to switch back into his human skin and it took him several moments of concentration before he was able to do it.
“He was no one,” He plainly said, his brows drawing together as he dabbed at the wound that split open your forehead.
“You didn’t know him?”
“No,” He sighed, “He was just a nomad, a packless wolf. He must have caught your scent and tracked you down.”
“Was he going to eat me?”
You were met with a sickening silence as Yoongi pursed his lips and bandaged your cut. His silence was a clear answer.
“But, I’m not an animal. There’s plenty of deer and rabbits…” You trailed off.
Yoongi set down the roll of gauze and leaned towards you, cradling your face once more in his hands. “Humans and animals are not all that different, you eat, you sleep, you mate, and you both give chase. Many of my kind see yours and animals as one in the same. What only matters is the hunt.”
Human, shifter, or hunter it didn’t matter, he had grown to trust no one outside of his pack. There were nefarious creatures at every corner, whether he was one of them was still to be decided. His behavior certainly appeared to be nefarious, to an outsider.
He could hear the thrum of your heart in your chest and the quickening of your pulse as you digested his words.
“Don’t be afraid of me, I would never hurt you. I just want to take care of you.” He murmured as he leaned in closer to you and pressed his lips to your forehead is a soft kiss that pulled a sharp breath into your chest.
Since that day, Yoongi’s behavior has drastically changed.
During the day he worked, far slower than what was normal or necessary, and he watched you fulfill your mundane tasks for the day. While they should have bored him, they did quite the opposite. Everything you did seemed so curious, enthralling even. He couldn’t explain this odd tether he had to you. The only thing that he did know, was that he had to be near you. Whatever this was, it had become far more than just a sense of duty he felt towards you.
During the night, when the moon emerged, he would shift and watch from the shadows. He would watch you pull your curtain closed and float from room to room. He would sit as still as he possibly could and listen to your heart beat slow and your breathing even out as you fell asleep. He would sit in front of the gaping hole where your door once sat and he would keep watch, pride stirring in his chest as he protected you.
It was during the night when his daughter would come to visit. Some nights he could hear four paws ripping through the earth as she excitedly ran up to him, other nights he would be greeted by the sound of two little human feet running through the grass. And sometimes, she would morph between the two forms, flickering between the two states like the unsteady wave of a flame.
But, there was one constant with her.
“Mama,” She would whisper, crawling on all fours up the steps.
And every time he would nip her by her clothes and settle her back down in between his massive paws.
It was a silent “not yet.”
You were his responsibility, but his daughter wasn’t yours. Not yet at least.
The three of you had unknowingly settled into a routine. And on the day that the door was finished, that pattern was finally disrupted.
You had grown accustomed to Yoongi’s presence. If you were being truly honest, you would admit that you had grown to like him. You would never admit it to anyone but his presence had filled that hole in your heart that your husband had left behind. You knew that his saving you had caused this pivot in your emotions and in all honesty you were incredibly confused by them.
Yoongi was kind and incredibly gentle in spite of how your initial meeting had gone. His voice was soft when he spoke to you, his smile reassuring, and the gentle touches calming. It was hard not to like him, and it was even harder to remember that he wasn’t human.
But the reminders were there. The odd glow in the depths of his eyes, the wolfish smile, the predatory gaze you had caught sight of whenever he thought you weren’t looking and the looming suspicions you had about his implications in your husband’s untimely death. He was still a wolf, there was no denying that. But you approached it all with the same logic you tended to fall back on: out of sight, out of mind. It was simply easier to not think about it. That, as well as your traitorous feelings for him.
The clouds came out of nowhere the day the door was finished.
“No, no, no, no, no!” You cried as you frantically ran outside and towards your clothesline where you had hung all of your linens.
Yoongi watched you dart in between the fluttering clothes and sheets as the rain slowly began to descend and the wind threatened to whip everything away.
“Yoongi!” You called.
The shiver that sent down his spine was strong. That was all it took for you to rattle him, just the mere sound of his name on your lips was world shattering. You didn’t know just how easily you could ruin him.
“Yoongi, help me!” You called again, your voice stern this time. He thought it was cute when you tried to be in charge.
There had been a definite shift in your relationship after he had killed that wolf for you. You had started inviting him inside for dinner, watching him work, and even spending the evenings with him outside, leaning up against the warm side of his wolf form. And in turn he would accompany you wherever you needed to go, keeping a close eye on you, and a firm hand on the small of your back.
You had grown impossibly closer than you had ever thought you would be capable of. Hell, you hadn’t even questioned why he was wearing your husband’s clothes when you woke up - you weren’t even upset. You were beginning to feel alive again.
The two of your hurriedly gathered the linens. Yoongi had turned it into a game, ripping items off of the line right before you could touch it like it was a race. In all honesty, he made you feel like a kid again. The both of you were laughing, stumbling over the laundry and bumping into each other as you raced inside.
“You were supposed to help me, not compete with me!” You scolded him, dropping the sopping wet pile of laundry into your basket.
“I can do both, dearest.”
Dearest. That had been a recent occurrence. It slipped from his lips one day, it had caused your heart to stutter and your blood to rush and ever since then he had not gone a single day without letting the term of endearment grace your ears. He loved seeing how flustered it would make you, the way he practically purred around the word.
“Or, you could just be kind to me for once.”
“I’m always kind to you, have you not enjoyed the gifts I’ve brought you?” He asked, a faux pout on his pretty lips as he slowly stalked towards you. You could almost see the wolf in him when he did that, you could visualize the swing of his tail and the way his massive head would tip down as his glowing eyes locked in on you. It was there, in the swing of his walk and the taunt muscle of his shoulders. It was an ever present reminder that he was not like you.
You backed up, almost coyly, as he approached. His broader steps quickly gain on your short, shuffled ones. The cold, spring breeze rushed over the exposed skin of your neck, the open doorway was now behind you. But, before you could rush outside and back into the rain and allow him to give chase, he reached behind you and jerked his arm back. In that instant you felt solid wood press against your back, the new door settling perfectly into the once empty frame and blocking off your exit.
You let out a shaky breath as he leaned into you, his chest against yours as he raised his arm above your head. With one swift movement there was a click and then his arm settled by your waist and another click followed. He had locked the door behind you. You were trapped in your own home with the wolf.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Short breaths were passed between the two of you, both of you waiting for the other to make a move. Your lashes fluttered as your gaze traced the contours of his face. You often wondered if he knew just how lovely he was, scar and all.
You swallowed harshly as you raised your hand to his face, your fingers trembling with desire before softly grazing the bottom of the scar. Yoongi’s eyes slipped shut as he moved forward allowing his face to lean into your touch, his body pressing impossibly closer to yours.
“Yoongi,” You whispered.
And with that one simple call of his name, he lunged and went in for the kill. His pretty lips collided with your own as his hand moved to cradle your jaw and tilt your head back with the force of his kiss. With your back against the door there was nowhere for you to go, but there was nowhere else that you wanted to be.
You gasped as you felt his free hand slowly trail up your leg and over your hip before settling on your lower back and sharply pulling your hips against his. A pitiful whimper was passed from your lips to his from the sudden desire that was pooling in your lower abdomen.
A moment of clarity came to you, your mind pushing past the haze of desire when you felt your feet leave the ground. Yoongi buried his face in the junction of your neck and shoulder, his lips and teeth making quick work of the skin there, as he walked. It was when you felt the soft cover of your bed beneath you that you realized what was happening.
“Yoongi, wait -” You tried, but his movements did not falter. His fingers were making quick work of the laces at the back of your dress and he showed no sign of stopping any time soon.
He looked desperate, like he was going to die if he could not have you and the only way to relieve himself of his pain was to unveil every inch of skin that you were concealing from him and each stretch that was exposed was just as quickly covered by kisses and nipped by sharp teeth.
You couldn’t deny the attraction you had for him or the lust you were practically dripping with from his touch. But it felt like you were laying on a bed of needles when you were reminded of your late husband’s death as you were willingly laid down in your marriage bed with a man who was not your husband.
“Please,” You gasped, gripping his shoulders, “not here.”
That seemed to catch his attention as he finally stilled himself. From your position it looked like he was trying to gain some control over himself. His breathing was still heavy, but he had stopped touching you. He looked up at you slowly, his chin just barely brushing over your bare sternum. When he finally looked at you, you stopped breathing. His eyes were lit with moonlight, a silver glow emanating from their depths.
He was more wolf than human in that moment, a creature that was acting purely on instinct.
You cupped his cheek once more and while he flinched at first, he slowly relaxed beneath your touch. He was still eerily silent, and in that moment his behavior reminded you almost entirely of the first time you had met him when he was in his other skin, fully shifted into his wolf counterpart. It was those watchful eyes again, those eyes that held so much depth and awareness that it was startling.
“I can’t, not here.” You repeated.
He blinked slowly, once, twice, and then a third time as he cocked his head to the side. You felt a twinge of fear at that gaze and, shamefully, the rush of lust in your veins. Your body went lax as you allowed him to gather you in his arms once more. He was calmer now, his pace slower as he unlocked the front door and carried you into the night. You could see flickers of your Yoongi in him, his touch much softer as he laid you down in a bed of grass that has been permanently laid flat by the giant wolf that guarded your home.
That night the sky was completely open, not a single cloud obscured the stars or the body of the full moon. It was utterly beautiful. Just as beautiful as the feeling of fresh dew on your back and just as beautiful as the sight of your breath crystalizing in the cold, spring air. But nothing was quite as beautiful as Yoongi. The way that his bitten lips parted with soft gasps and deep moans, the way that his porcelain skin shone beneath the moonlight, and the way that he struggled to part from your lips. It was the way that he would rather kiss you than breathe. Everything about him was beautiful.
You had many regrets in your life, but this would never be one of them. Not when he held you like this, like you were the only person in the world that mattered. Everything about this was supposed to be wrong, unholy even, but that was what made it that more enjoyable. That was what made you tense your legs around his waist, curve your hips against his, and wrap your arms around the back of his neck - drawing him towards your pulse point where he had been nosing at, sucking, and kissing almost obsessively.
When your body shook with pleasure, a rush of warmth and tingles spread beneath your skin, your back arched and your neck was bared. And before you could even realize what was to come, his teeth had already sunk into your neck and shoulder without hesitation accompanied by an almost animalistic growl. The pain was there, it forced a scream past your lips, but it mingled deliciously with the rush of pleasure that emanated from your very core. You gasped and shook, your vision blurring as you were assaulted by your senses, your nails digging into his shoulders.
There it was again.
There was a flash of white in the treeline. It was there for a moment before flickering out of sight as you felt yourself barely clinging to consciousness.
You were being watched again, there was something or someone out there that was following you - watching you in your most vulnerable moments.
You tried to get Yoongi’s attention but he was in a similar state, the both of you lazily holding onto one another and barely moving as you began to drift. Your lips moved but no words were spoken, your tongue felt heavy in your mouth, unable to form words.
Yoongi’s lips were stained with your blood, his eyes heavy lidded but now returned to their dark color that you knew and loved. You tried again to speak but found yourself unable to as he pressed his forehead against your own, his fingers brushing back your messy hair.
The heavy lure of sleep was steadily pulling you under. You supposed it could wait until tomorrow.
Out of sight, out of mind.
~~~~~~~
When you woke up you were back in your bed and you were alone.
The cottage was dark, the windows all closed and the curtains drawn tight. When your eyes fluttered open you had almost believed that it was still night, that you were still outside with Yoongi and you had only momentarily dozed off. But the familiar comfort of your blankets and pillows quickly dismissed those thoughts.
Now wide awake with your sheets pooled around your waist, you could only wonder about where your wolf had gone. Had he left you already? Had he taken your words to heart when you told him that he was to leave when his service was finished? Had he abandoned you after you had shared your most intimate moments with him? What had you done?
You felt a sense of shame wash over you as you stumbled from your bed, dull aches throbbing at various points of your body that only reminded you of what had transpired the night before. Once you collected yourself you made your way to the door your wolf had crafted for you and when you grasped the handle and pulled, you were met with a locked door.
Your face scrunched in confusion as you turned the lock the opposite way and moved the bar at the top of the door but when you tried it again it still would not budge.
You had been locked in your own home like a canary in a cage.
Your heart dropped into your stomach and your throat felt impossibly tight as tears began to brim in your eyes. You had trusted him and in turn he had trapped you. How foolish you were to think that you could trust another man and here you were, a betrayer of your husband’s memory.
You sat on the floor curled up by the foot of your bed with a weak grasp on your blanket around your shoulders. There was an unexpected heartbreak that demanded to be felt in your chest, how could you mourn someone who you never really truly knew? Yoongi wouldn’t even tell you about his family, where he came from, or his people. Your relationship, whatever it was, had been an uneven exchange and you had clung to him so quickly because you had been so lonely. It was unfair.
You quickly swept away the tears from beneath your eyes when you heard a lock turn and light began to permeate the darkness as the door swung open. He came back.
The gentle smile he had entered with melted away, a look of concern taking over his face. He crossed the room and you rushed to stand, your arms crossing over your chest to protect and soothe yourself. You flinched away from his touch as he attempted to cup your jaw, the look of hurt and confusion on his face only inspired anger.
“Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” He asked, trying to bridge the distance between the two of you as he moved closer while you took to stepping around the bed. You needed to keep him away, you couldn’t be swayed by those gentle touches and kind looks.
“You locked me up, Yoongi. Why would you do that?” You sniffled as you attempted to keep your voice strong and firm.
“I didn’t lock you up-”
“Then why was the door locked? Why couldn’t I get out?” You asked, before leaning forward and grasping a cord that was strung around his neck and nestled beneath the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have this?”
When you pulled the necklace out his hand shot out to grip your wrist in warning, but the damage had already been done. There was a key on his necklace, the key to your cage.
“I’m protecting you.” He whispered, his tone deadly and his gaze dark with warning. “You saw what happened, it’s dangerous out there - I can’t trust anyone with you.”
“No, you can’t trust me,” You corrected him before jerking your hand out of his hold, “This is my home, Yoongi, my home! You have no right!”
“I have every right, you are mine!”
“I am not!”
His eyes were burning again, he was having trouble keeping his anger in check and you weren’t helping in the slightest. His chest was heaving with every breath and his jaw was tense. You watched him take one long breath in and then out before his arm shot out as he grabbed you by the wound on your neck forcing a pained gasp from your throat.
“I told you, I am responsible for you, I need to protect you. This means that you’re mine and that I’m yours, this is a bond that goes deeper than marriage, do you understand that?”
Your lips trembled as emotion welled in your chest, that told you everything that you needed to know.
“You killed him, didn’t you?”
The silence you were met with and the empty look in his eyes was more than enough to confirm. Yoongi had been your husband’s killer. You stumbled back and heaved, waving away his hands that tried to steady you as you felt sickness stir in your stomach.
“How could you? Why? Why did you do it?!” You cried, your fingers shaking as they grazed your lips in pure shock.
His hands were raised as he tried to step closer to you, it wasn’t a defensive position, it looked more like he was trying to calm a startled animal.
“He killed my wife,” He said, his voice much gentler than you expected in your state.
“He wouldn’t!”
“No, but he would kill an animal, wouldn’t he?”
He stopped approaching you and you had stopped moving away, your body having locked up in a state of pure shock.Your silence was enough for him to continue.
“By the time I got there he was already taking her pelt, she wasn’t even able to shift back.”
He had skinned her. He didn’t know there was a person inside of the wolf that he had killed, and he had skinned her.
“I took what was owed to me, he killed her so I killed him and I don’t regret it. The only thing I regret is what that did to you and your child, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. But I tried my best to give back to you what was taken. I can protect you, I can take care of you, I can give you children, and I can love you.”
His pupils were blown out, there was a look of pure desperation in his eyes. It was a look that made your heart shudder in your chest.
There was a horrible ache in behind your ribs, it felt like it was on the verge of collapsing. It was undeniable that you cared for him, but the sickness that churned in your stomach was rivaling those feelings. You had never felt so betrayed before by anyone. You thought that he would have been different.
You couldn’t even bear the thought of looking at him in the moment, it hurt too much and you knew how powerful those eyes of his were. You refused to be swayed at that moment.
You knew that no amount of words you could say would force him to leave, so you did the next best thing and sprinted for the door. You barely made it a few steps before he lunged and grabbed you by your waist, picking you up with ease as you writhed in his hold. You turned into a feral animal, throwing yourself around wildly and scratching at any available skin you could find as you cried in shrill screams.
“Stop fighting me!” He grunted, throwing you down on the mattress and pinning your wrists down at your sides as he pressed his knees into your kicking legs. “Calm down.”
A scream of frustration burned your throat as your muscles strained under his firm grip. There was no use in fighting him, he was far stronger than you could ever hope to be. And so your body eventually tired itself out, your limbs going limp as you shook from a mixture of fatigue, fright, and dimming embers of anger. The skin beneath your eyes felt tight from all the crying you had done and the skin around your nails throbbed from the scratches you had carved into Yoongi’s forearms. But of course, those flesh wounds had already healed.
You flinched as he released one of your wrists and stroked your face, indirectly drying your cheeks of their lingering tears.
“You’re scared, now. Confused. But that’s alright, you’ll learn that I am the only one who can take care of you.”
You stayed silent and stubbornly turned your head to the side when he leant in to kiss you, but your actions did not deter him, he only laid a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth with a contented hum.
“I’ll prove it to you, I can give you everything that you want.” He whispered beside your ear before he finally stood and the blood rushed back to your arms and legs.
You scuttled backwards up the bed as he gave you one last lingering gaze and then he slipped out of the cottage and locked the door shut behind him.
He had trapped you once again.
~~~~~~~
You had laid there for a long time, frozen after what had transpired. Everything you thought that you knew has been completely and utterly wrong. It had all been a lie.
You slowly sat up and slid your palms into your lap. Your nails were stained with dark blood, you had hurt Yoongi afterall, not that it had mattered. To him, it had probably been no more irritating than a kitten’s scratch. You were once again reminded of his incredible inhuman nature.
You needed to leave, now was your chance to escape him. It was an odd feeling that stirred in the back of your mind. The night before, there was nowhere else that you would rather be, and now you wanted to get as far away as possible. You wanted to run.
With that thought in your mind you lept to your feet and made for the window. You knew that Yoongi would be able to find you, tracking you would be more of a game than a challenge. But if you left now, you would give yourself a head start. You would make for town and when you entered its boundaries it would be too risky for him to come after you. He wouldn’t be able to get you in either skin, the hulking form of that wolf far too obvious and the flesh of his human skin far too vulnerable when outnumbered.
You pried open the shutters and undid the latch. You hiked up the skirt of your night dress, baring your skin to the cool breeze, and swung your legs out of the window and allowed your body to drop down. You needed to go, there was no more time for hesitation.
Your dress was held tight in each fist as you began to run, the light fabric brushing over your legs as you moved. In that moment you had wished for a pair of shears to shorten it.
A pitched howl echoed through the trees and your heart thrummed even harder in your chest. Your limbs froze on instinct and your ears rang with the sound of your blood rushing. It was too high of a tone to be him, you had heard the sounds he had made when he tore that other shifter to shreds. It wasn’t him but it was someone else.
A small, dark, furry form shot out from the cover of the trees and darted through the clearing. Its pace was sure yet frantic, like it still didn't have control of its four limbs nor its speed. As it came closer you began to take cautious steps backward. You knew who that was, it was the pup.
You watched in horror as the creature’s gait became wild and the pup began to trip over itself before the fur exploded from its skin and in its place was a little girl sprinting through the grass.
There was no denying the impossibility of what you had seen, after all you had seen it with your own eyes. There was no forgetting this.
“Mama!” She cried as she collided with your legs and displayed an impressive strength that was disproportionate to the size of her body, sending the both of you to the ground. The world turned sideways for a moment, and there it was once more. That flash of white that you had been seeing for weeks now. But it was closer this time, close enough that you recognized what it was. From the shape of the clothes on the fleeing form, you knew it was one of the clerics from the town. Has he been watching you all this time?
“I missed you, mama,” She said, pulling your attention to her as she stared down at you with a pair of dark brown eyes that sent chills through your veins. She looked so much like her father.
“Binna,” His voice shot through the air, “Remember what I said? Be gentle, you don’t want to hurt your mother.”
“Sorry!” She giggled as she pressed her cheek against your collarbone, her eyes fluttering shut and her long lashes casting shadows over the skin beneath her eyes. She wrapped her arms around your neck and hummed, the warmth from her body seeping into your skin.
“Sorry, mama.” She repeated.
You gently laid your hand over her back, your breaths still uneven as you pulled the two of you into a sitting position. “Sweetheart, I’m not your-“
“Binna, do you want to go see your room?” Yoongi asked, dropping down into a squat behind his daughter, his eyes on you as he spoke.
Binna let out an excited hum of agreement, scrambling up onto two legs that still wobbled unsurely beneath her weight. You noticed that she was never completely stable in either skin she wore, it was like she was still trying to figure out how four legs and two legs worked.
“Come on, dearest,” He said, holding his hand out to you. You sat there for a moment, stubbornly, but his gaze was unwavering and his body was as still as a statue. You knew there was no fighting him and he had played dirty by bringing his daughter into the equation. He knew that you wouldn’t want to start anything in front of her, the last thing that you wanted to do was frighten her.
You let out an angry huff and rushed to stand without his help, storming past him and walking a few paces behind his small daughter who would toddle every now and then before bending over and trying to walk on all fours instead.
As frustrated, frightened, and irritated as you were, you couldn’t deny the tug at your heart when you watched Binna crawl up the front steps of your home and scamper inside. You could hear the sound of her bare feet tapping against the wood floors and you couldn’t stop the resulting burn in your eyes. You had always wanted to hear that sound, you had always wanted a daughter of your own.
But Binna wasn’t yours.
But it was hard to long for that when you watched her disappear into the once empty nursery. You didn’t like what Yoongi was doing, he was messing with your head. He knew how badly you had wanted your child, how you had tirelessly grieved your husband, and now he was trying to patch everything together and force your lives to fit with one another.
You knew that he could understand your loss, he had lost a wife after all. He would do anything to avoid that happening again, and if that meant locking you up while he was gone, then he would do that. But that wasn’t what you wanted. You had locked yourself up for months on end, turning your home into a mausoleum as you grieved the loss of the life you had once had. You refused to do that again.
The door shut and the lock clicked.
You heard him approach and then you felt his warmth as your back and his breath disturb the hair on your head. It wasn’t all that different from the first time that you had met.
His fingers grazed your own and your hand twitched in response but you didn’t move. He intertwined your hands and pressed his forehead against the back of your head, breathing in your scent.
“You have to let me go, Yoongi.” You whispered.
He froze and a low, warning growl thrummed in his chest causing the hair on the back of your neck to raise. It didn’t matter what skin he was in, your body recognized him as the predator that he was.
“No.” He simply said.
“You’re not being fair -”
“I’ve been nothing but fair. I broke your door so I fixed it, I killed your husband and I gave you myself, you lost your child and I gave you Binna. I have been more than fair, so much so that I even gave you my love when you did not want it.”
You ignored that last part, the love you felt for him causing a stabbing pain of betrayal in your heart. It wasn’t fair that you still felt the way you did about him after everything that he had done. After he had tricked you.
“I am not Binna’s mother.”
He quickly hushed you, spinning you around by your shoulders and staring into your eyes, “She can hear you, she has very sensitive ears and a gentle heart, you don’t want to hurt her do you?”
You bit your lip in frustration, “It’s not fair to her mother.”
“You are her mother.”
And that conversation was over, he wouldn’t hear any of your protests and you feared hurting Binna too much to continue to broach the subject. You were caught in between a rock and a hard place. And the worst thing was that it was hard not to love Binna.
She was curious, mischievous, and sweet. She had been the same way when you discovered her as a pup, but you adored her even more this way. All she wanted was your attention, she was a little girl that was desperate to be loved by a mother.
“Why did you leave?” She stumbled over the words, her little fingers twisted in the fabric of your skirt as you had started dinner, the light of the sunset cast over her eyes and bursts of silver shined in their reflection.
You didn’t know how to respond.
“Mama’s back now, you don’t have to worry about that baby.” Yoongi answered for you with a gentle smile as he pulled her onto his lap.
“Forever?” She asked, staring at him with wide eyes full of wonder that only a child could possess.
“Forever,” He repeated, his eyes tracing over the profile of your face.
The questions didn’t stop there. It was a full moon that night and Binna demanded to be outside. Yoongi had briefly told you before about their connection with the moon. It was almost religious, but even that wasn’t a good comparison. It was a part of them.
“Shift.” Binna had commanded, tugging at your skirt again as she had quickly grown accustomed to.
“I can’t Binna,” You explained, lowering yourself into the grass so that you were more level with her height. “I’m not like you, or your daddy.”
Yoongi had stayed close to you all day, keeping a watchful eye on you to make sure that you wouldn’t try to leave them.
“But…” She said, her words trailing off as her face furrowed in confusion, “It was white.”
You were confused but a quick look at Yoongi cleared that up. His gaze was glassy like he was remembering something, something that he didn’t want to think about. Binna must have meant her mother, she must have seen her before she left. Her pelt must have been white.
Yoongi cleared his throat after a moment, “I think it’s time for bed.”
Binna, even though she was a shifter, was still a child. She whined in protest and went limp as Yoongi scooped her up in his arms and held onto your hand, guiding the two of you back into the house.
The door shut, the lock clicked.
The both of you cleaned Binna up together, her feet and hands dirty from struggling to crawl in her human form and her hair a mess of twigs and leaves. She had laughed as she watched the pile of leaves grow beside the basin and attempted to jump into it like it were a much bigger leaf pile than it really was.
And when she was clean, fed, and tired, she crawled into the center of the bed and reached her arms out for you. Your heart ached again. As soon as you laid down she was curled into your side, her little arms curled into her chest as she pressed her nose against the bite mark on your shoulder, taking in deep breaths.
The lamps in the room were snuffed out one by one, the room becoming progressively darker until it was completely plunged in darkness and only the gleam of silver eyes at the foot of the bed were visible. The bed dipped beneath Yoongi’s weight as he climbed in, laying on the other side of the bed behind his daughter. When he laid down he rolled over, wrapping his arm around the two of you and pulling you in closer to him.
Binna hummed a happy noise, burrowing deeper into your shoulder and burying herself beneath your blankets.
“What is she doing?” You asked, the first time you had spoken a direct question to Yoongi since that morning.
“You smell like me, it’s how we identify each other. She feels safe with you.” He explained.
“So that’s why you did it.” You said, a bitter edge to your words as you smoothed your hand over Binna’s freshly washed hair. “She doesn’t know any better.”
“That’s not true. She chose you, and so did I. She knew you were safe, that’s why she let you take her that day. And this,” His fingers ghosted over the mark sending chills down your spine, “was purely for my own selfish benefit. I wanted everyone to know that you’re mine.”
“You didn’t even give me the choice.”
“I love you, and I know that you love me.”
You remained quiet, not willing to agree or disagree with him. It was hard to make sense of madness, whether that be Yoongi’s or your own.
“You’ll see it eventually, this is what you wanted.”
~~~~~~~
When you woke the next morning, you immediately knew that something was wrong.
Firstly, Yoongi was gone. The spot on the bed that used to be your husband’s was cold, he had been gone for a while. Secondly, Binna was curled into the corner of the room, hiding beneath a blanket as she shook. And when you looked closer, you could see the tip of a snout and a still tail peeking out from beneath the blanket. She was frightened. Thirdly, there was smoke in the air, something was burning.
You stumbled out of bed when there was a pounding on the door.
“Open the door!” A man yelled, the door knob shaking as he tried to open it himself. Your instincts were screaming at you that something was wrong.
“Open up, and pay for your crimes!” He yelled again, this time throwing his weight against the door.
That couldn’t be right? Crimes?
You crept closer to the front window, the wood shutters were pulled shut but there was a crack that you had peered through, unnoticed, many times before. This time, the sight that you were met with was horrific. There was a large, angry crowd with torches outside - illuminating the pitch black field around your home.
You had heard of these events before, but never had you considered that you would become the victim of one, not when you were so isolated from the town. But it was happening now and you needed to act fast.
You rushed to the corner where Binna hid and scooped her up into your arms blanket and all. Her snout sniffed at your bite wound before she began to settle down. You ran to the nursery and to the very back of the room where the crib sat. You gripped it with one hand and with a strength you didn’t know that you possessed you pulled it aside. Your heart pounded and your breath was coming in harsh pants as you moved to the window.
“Binna,” You whispered, forcing yourself to make your voice as soft and soothing as you could. You had one priority right now and that was to get her safe. You had seen what those hunters were capable of before. “I need you to run as fast as you can, and I need you to find your daddy. Don’t stop running until you're safe, don’t stop no matter what you hear.”
Binna stared back at you, her ears perked up as her glossy silver eyes poured into your very soul. Binna was a little girl, but she was smarter than any human child. You trusted her.
A loud thwack sounded from the front door, a sound that you weren’t all that unfamiliar with - it was the sound of an ax striking the door. Your motions became faster and more panicked than before, your nails ripping at the bottom of the window that groaned as you forced it open. You grunted and with one more hard push, it popped and raised and there was enough room that Binna could slide through.
“Don’t stop running, be very brave.” You whispered before pressing a quick kiss to the space between her ears and lowering her as close to the ground as you could. And then, her body left your hand and her dark fur disappeared into the night. You could only hope that she could find help on time.
You had a terrible feeling that you weren’t going to make it out of this.
A loud crack and sharp splintering sounded from the front door and then the thud of boots entered the kitchen. You stayed as quiet as you could but you knew there was no hiding and you needed to buy Binna time.
You slid an oil lamp off of the dresser and hid by the door, waiting for it to open. The boots approached quickly, they didn’t want to give you time to get away and they were hunting you down. This was nothing like the way Yoongi had hunted you, it was un-practiced, frantic, amateur.
When the door to the nursery slammed open you brought the lamp down on the back of the man’s head and sent him crashing to the ground as blood pooled onto the wood. But when you darted out into the hallway, there was already someone else waiting for you.
You swung the lamp towards him with a scream but he dodged, grabbing your wrists and bending them in such a way that a sharp scream echoed through the cottage as you lost your grip and the lamp shattered upon impact with the ground.
The man from the nursery was up and moving and now he was behind you, pulling rope from his belt.
“You fucking bitch!” He yelled, and before you could move he had punched you clean across your face, sending you sprawling on the ground.
You could taste blood in your mouth as he straddled you from behind, wrapping the rope around your hands.
“Get off of me!” You screamed, wriggling desperately but to no avail. All it earned you was another strike to your head that made your vision blurry and spotted.
When you came to, you were being dragged out of your house. The door that Yoongi had painstakingly crafted was shattered.
And, as soon as the three of you were outside, torches were thrown and the house was lit aflame.
“No!” You screamed, guttural sounds that ripped through your throat. “No, no, no!”
Your husband had built that house. It was the only thing that you had left of him. It was yours, it was where you were supposed to make a family and grow old together. And now that dream, that life, was being burned to the ground.
It was absolute chaos.
The smell of smoke burned in your nose and made your eyes tear up on reflex. When you had thought of all the ways that you could possibly die, you had never considered this as an option. You wriggled violently in your bonds like a wild animal trapped in a snare. The rope was digging into your wrists leaving behind raw, bloody wounds. There was no escape, but you couldn’t help but try. If you didn’t free yourself, then this would be it.
There had been a time where you craved nothing more than to be reunited with your deceased lover, but when faced with the frightening reality of death you wanted nothing more than to live.
Violent, raw screams tore through your throat as you were held down to the ground. There were hands everywhere, gripping your shoulders, your legs, and one in particular that was knotted in your hair.
“Silence, witch!” A man yelled, pressing down on your neck and forcing your face into the dirt.
“Witch? Witch?!” You shrieked, another manic scream breaking up your words as you writhed against the ground.
You could hear the murmurs of the crowd that surrounded you and with a strained eye you could see nearly the entire town gathered around you and the men that held you captive. It was clear what this was, but you didn’t want to believe it. You didn’t want to believe that your own kind would turn on you like this. But that seemed to be your plight, those you tried to trust always turned out to be a wolf in sheep’s clothing.
The hand that was wound in your hair tightened its grasp spurring a pained gasp from you as they began to drag you. You could only desperately writhe in the dirt as you were pulled closer to the crowd. You were certainly a sight, your hair a deranged mess, filled with leaves and twigs with dirt smeared down your cheeks and staining the tips of your fingers. Their rough treatment of you had only served to make you appear as the very thing they feared. The thing they were accusing you of being.
You finally came to a stop in front of the town elder, the men behind you forcing you into an upright position on your knees, your arms still painfully stretched behind your back.
The elder looked at you in what could only be described as disgust.
“Behold, the witch who has brought a curse upon our village,” He spoke, his voice raspy and low, causing silence to descend over the group in order to hear him.
“I am no witch-“
“Quiet!” The man behind you yelled before delivering a harsh smack to the side of your head, forcing it to snap to the side as you cried in pain.
“The accused has brought death to all of your doors. She who murdered her unborn child in a covenant with the devil and brought those beasts to our home, and she who slayed her husband to feed those wretched demons and seal their bond to her will continue to slaughter us where we stand. What say you, shall we stand by and allow this to happen?” The elder said, opening his arms to the crowd who voiced their agreement.
This was the man who had known you since you were a child, the very man who had approved your courtship with your husband, the same man that married the both of you. This was the man that would ultimately kill you.
Yoongi was right, humans were horrible creatures.
Your body had gone limp, your head rolling forward as if your neck could no longer bear the weight of it. Desperate, wounded cries burst from your lips. You had not killed your baby, you had not killed your husband, but there was nothing you could say to change their minds. They had already made their decision.
“The punishment for these crimes shall be paid by that of which you are familiar,” The elder said, gesturing to a horrifying sight looming behind him, “Hellfire.”
You couldn’t hear the screams that burned your throat, you could only feel them. There was a loud ringing in your ears and the feeling of your feet and shoulders digging into the ground as you were dragged toward the stake and unlit pyre before you.
They were going to burn you alive.
Your cries for help were left unanswered, there was not a single look of empathy on anyone in the crowd. He had truly convinced them all that the deaths that had plagued the town were because of you. They believed you were the one that had brought the shifters upon them even though that didn’t make sense, they had been there long before you and longer than they realized. But there was no getting through to them. What the elder spoke was considered divine nature.
You sounded like a wounded animal, horrific sobs and screams shaking your body as you were tied to the stake. Nausea swirled in your stomach and your heart pounded, the fear that you felt was indescribable.
Vaguely, you understood that you were mumbling something repeatedly under your breath which was not helping your perception with the crowd. It looked like you were trying to cast a curse upon them. And if you could, you would.
But what you were saying was far from that. All you could brokenly whisper was, “I did not kill my baby.”
The scent of smoke became even stronger and from in between layers of your hair, you could see a torch flickering. The flames wavered, almost teasingly in nature, like it was deciding whether or not it would engulf you in its fiery embrace. Ultimately, that would not be its decision.
“Return from whence you came, witch,” The man before you spoke, and with the crook of the elder’s finger, he lit the pyre.
Heat licked at your feet and ankles as the fire slowly but surely crept up the logs and branches piled around you. This would be a long, slow, tortuous end to your life and that was what they wanted. They wanted to put all of their rage, pain, and hatred onto you and they would make certain you experienced the full extent of their wrath.
Tears rolled down your cheeks as you accepted your fate. You cried as you watched the flames lap at the edges of your skirt - eating away at the hem. In a matter of seconds it would eat the fabric away and begin charing flesh and bone.
But it was when you lost all hope, that fate decided to play yet another trick on you.
Frantic cries were coming from the crowd and when you raised your head you were shocked by the sight of six massive wolves emerging from the trees. It took no time for you to realize that they were just like Yoongi. Binna had made it back to them, she had gotten them to come and help you and thankfully she was nowhere in sight.
The crowd pressed in closer to the elder, who’s face had gone gray at the sight of the wolves, as the six shifters surrounded them, corralling them all into one place.
In the midst of the madness, you hadn’t noticed the presence behind you until you felt your ropes loosening.
It was Yoongi.
The fire was searing both of your clothes yet he remained, slicing through your bonds with deft hands. He had come for you, he had saved you.
The moment your bonds slid from your hands he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you from the stake and pyre, the two of you sinking down to the ground in each other’s embrace.
“Yoongi,” You choked, your lungs thick with smoke and ash.
“Shh,” he hushed you, “just breathe, breathe for me sweetheart, just like that.”
His hand came to rest on your chest while he guided yours to his, taking in exaggerated breaths so that you could follow him.
Yoongi was many things: your husband's killer, your captor, your protector, and lastly - your savior. It was impossible for you to describe what you felt for him as it was no longer black and white. If there was anything you did believe, it was that nothing was ever that simple. There are many truths and many lies, it all was dependent on what you wanted to believe.
You coughed again, the force of it shaking your entire body as Yoongi pulled you into himself tighter. You were in his lap, chest to chest, with his nose buried in your hair. You could feel him breathing in your scent, a growl radiating through his chest when he realized it had been tainted by smoke and other men.
“I thought I lost you too,” he sighed before pressing a desperate kiss to your temple and then your cheek. He treated you like you were the most precious thing in the world.
“Help us!” That raspy voice called out to you again.
You slowly turned your head to face the elder who had placed himself in the middle of the crowd, using the bodies of his people to shield him from the wolves that were steadily circling them.
Help them.
Help them?
Help them?!
You cocked your head to the side, a look of bewilderment and rage taking over your features. Why should you help them? After what they had done to you? After what they had accused you of?
Humans were horrible. You didn’t need them, after all, you much preferred to be alone.
You didn’t need other humans.
“Yoongi?” You whispered, maintaining eye contact with the elder.
“Yes?” He leaned forward, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“Kill them all.”
You felt his warm finger trace the curve of your jaw before turning your face in his direction. He looked down at you in a mix of adoration and excitement before leaning in and pressing his lips against yours in a hard kiss.
“As you wish,” He murmured before setting you down on the ground and joining his brothers.
In a matter of seconds he burst free from his skin, a giant wolf in his place alongside the tattered remains of his clothes. The crowd screamed in fright from the sight of his transformation and then from the massive fangs of seven wolves.
You sat there, knees drawn into your chest as you watched Yoongi carve his way through the crowd and toward the elder. And, with great ease, he forced the man to the ground and ripped his head clean from his shoulders. A large spurt of blood soared through the smoggy air, painting the grass a vibrant color.
You watched on as several more people were felled by the shifters, their gruesome screams quieted by large jaws and hooked claws.
You were numb, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care about their lives that were swiftly ended - their souls ripped from their bodies.
You craned your neck back and stared up at the full moon, eyes dull, red, and finally dry as more gurgled screams were silenced.
Out of sight, out of mind.
#bts x reader#min yoongi x reader#yandere#yandere bts#yandere yoongi#bts fanfic#yandere yoongi x reader#yandere kpop#yandere bts x reader#werewolf yoongi#werewolf yoongi x reader#yandere werewolf yoongi#yandere werewolf yoongi x reader#yoongi x reader#yandere werewolf#werewolf bts#werewolf bts x reader
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It's You - Choi San | 3 AM
Pairing: San x Reader
Genre: smut, crack, fluff, angst, roommates to lovers, BFF’s Lil Bro!AU
Series Rating: M (18+)
Drabble Warnings: sneaking around, sloppy making out, lots of cuddling and kissing, honestly this is super soft, drunk San is a whole different type of menace, a little angst on OC's part, pet names deployed as weapons (baby)
Word Count: 2.1k
Disclaimers: SFW, obviously I don’t own ATZ - they just inspire me
Summary: He was only supposed to be a temporary roommate. Your best friend’s little brother, crashing on your couch for a few weeks. That’s it. How did this happen?
A/N: This started with talking about drunk San with @minttangerines and @kiestrokes, and then @moni-logues made me miss this couple, so boom! New vignette! I should warn you that I wrote this over the course of 2 days, entirely between the hours of midnight and 5 am because I've been staying up wayyyy too late to watch the Coachella livestreams (can we talk about Chellateez?! because holy shit!), so it's probably a mess and it's unbeta'd, so… blame any typos or incoherency on my fucked up sleep schedule! 🥱
Lyrics are from "Moondance" by Van Morrison, inspired by that one toktoq of San singing that song, which absolutely killed me.
Taglist is open! Reblog, comment, or send me an ask to be added! You can also send me any ideas/thoughts you might have for a future scenario - who knows, it might end up in a drabble! 💕
It’s You Masterlist 🐈⬛ ATZ Masterlist 🐈⬛ Main Masterlist
It’s three in the morning, and you’re wide awake, at your desk, working frantically on an article whose deadline is mere hours away. For not the first time tonight, you curse your natural inclination towards procrastination and scrub your hand down your face, wishing you’d chosen a different career.
There’s some noise outside your door and you realize San must be home. He’d been down at the Blue Bird with Hongjoong, drinking and hanging out with Wooyoung as he bartended. From the way San’s shuffling around, it sounds like Woo had been his typical kind self and given San more generous pours than he should have. A loud “oof” resonates, and you hear the armchair scrape the floor a bit, as if he were setting it back in its place. You wince, hoping he didn’t wake his sister, who has an early shift and needs to be up at dawn.
“Noona. Nooooooona.” Tap tap tappity tap. “Are you up? I can see - I can see your light.”
San raps on your door, calling out to you in a voice that’s hushed but maybe not quite as quiet as he thinks it is. From his spot on your bed, Nero lifts his head off his paws at the sound, then blinks at you with his bright green eyes.
“I know. He’s loud as fuck, isn’t he?” With a cluck of your tongue, you quickly hop up and open the door. San must’ve been leaning against it, because suddenly you’ve got a mountain on top of you, a loose-limbed one at that, eagerly but clumsily wrapping its arms around you. “San!”
“Hiiiii,” San coos into your shoulder, where he’s buried his face. You shudder slightly as his breath tickles your skin exposed by the tank top you wear, and stagger away from the door enough to close it quietly as you can, not an easy task to do given the giant mass of man hanging his dead weight on you.
“You know, your sister is sleeping just on the other side of this wall,” you remind him, but he doesn’t respond, too busy lathering the column of your neck with tiny kisses. “San. Come on, sit down.”
With some stumbling from San and a not insignificant effort on your part, the two of you make it over to your bed. Your attempt at coaxing San into a sitting position fails miserably as he promptly splays on his back, pulling you on top of him. Nero hops off the bed in a huff.
You go down like a sack of flour, not a gram of gracefulness in your fall, but San appears not to notice when your chin bounces off his sternum or your knee rams his thigh. He sighs contentedly, wrapping his arms around your back, tucking you against him.
“Mmmm. So nice,” he murmurs, resting his cheek against the top of your head.
It’s three in the morning, and you need to finish this damn article. Except that right now, your body is telling you that what you really need is to stay exactly where you are. Because the minute the warmth of San’s embrace surrounded you, your stress melted away. The steady rise and fall of his chest calms you, makes your own breathing slow. You close your eyes, nestling closer to him, sliding your own arms around his waist. You could so easily fall asleep like this.
But he can’t sleep here.
“San. San, are you awake?”
“I’m awake,” he replies, but with closed eyes, which doesn’t really give you a lot of confidence in his response. “I am,” he insists when you shake him, rolling his head away, but he still doesn’t look at you.
“Don’t fall asleep,” you warn him sternly. “I mean it!”
San smiles, the one that tells you that he knows you’re going to give in to him, which is the smile you tend to see him flash the most often, because you’re weak for him and always giving in. But this isn’t one of those times when you can indulge him. No matter how much you want to.
“Wish you’d come to the bar tonight. Wanted you there.”
You knew that. He’d told you as much when he’d texted earlier. Unfortunately, you had to turn him down for the sake of remaining gainfully employed. He’d tried to convince you otherwise at first but finally said he understood. And then sent you a series of sad selfies, each one more pathetic than the last, lips puffing to an extreme. Because he understands the power that pout holds over you.
It’s embarrassing how bad you’re down for this man.
San’s fingers dance idly down your spine, and you sigh, eyes slipping shut again as you speak. “Believe me, I would’ve rather been there with you.”
He hums, fingertips quickening their light minuet. He mumbles something into your hair, low and unintelligible from the way his lips are smushed against your head, so it takes you a few seconds to realize he’s not talking, he’s singing.
“... marvelous night for a moondance, with the stars up above in your eyes…”
“San,” you begin, but before you can warn him not to get any louder, he does so anyway, raising his beautiful voice a little, starting to get into it.
“A fantabulous night to make romance, 'neath the cover of October skies…”
“Shhh!” Your shushing is cut short by your giggling, as you clap a hand over San’s mouth. “Oh my god, now is not the time for this!”
This is one of San’s more notable habits - when a song gets stuck in his head, you’ll hear him singing it for days, just walking around the apartment humming the melody or, if he has an audience, belting out the lines. He knows how much you love his sweet tenor. Another fact about you he’s filed away to devastate you with at the most opportune times.
Like when you need to kick him out of your bed.
He continues singing despite your hand pressing on his lips, slurring the words directly into your palm. His eyebrows are working overtime, top half of his face playfully conveying whatever lyrics are being smothered against your skin. He’s so ridiculous, so over-the-top, even at three in the morning when anyone else would be exhausted, like you felt before he walked into your room, since his energy is infectious and perked you up better than the multiple cups of coffee you downed in your desperate attempt to stay awake. That’s San for you - he’s always giving you something when you need it - his time, his help, his energy.
So you decide to give him something back, and replace your hand with your mouth, drawing him into a tender kiss, imbuing it with all those things you feel but never say. His muffled singing becomes a hum becomes a moan, at first surprised, then pleased. One of his hands drops to your thigh and with a bit of urgent tugging, he maneuvers you on top of him, chest pressed to chest.
His kissing is only the slightest bit sloppier when he’s been drinking, wetter from his tongue caressing yours with somewhat less skill than usual, but it’s never bothered you. You like seeing this side of him, looser with his inhibitions, with whatever holds him in place - or holds him back. One day you’ll ask him to show you more, when you’re both sober.
And when things are different. Less… ambiguous between the two of you.
If you reach that point.
“Noona.” San whispers, thankfully pulling you from the heavier thoughts threatening to sink you right out of the moment. You open your eyes to look at him as he pecks your cheeks. “I like kissing you.”
You grin, letting your forehead knock against his. “Yeah, I kinda noticed.”
“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The look he gives you would melt the hardest of hearts. This is why you’re not afraid to be needy with San. There’s no reason to be, not when he’s just the same.
“I like kissing you too,” you declare, kissing the tip of his nose, laughing at the way his eyes cross as he follows your lips. “But now’s not the time for that, either.”
“Then what time is it?”
Laughing, you gently guide him into a sitting position, keeping your arms looped over his shoulders. His lust is morphing into sleepiness, eyelids drooping as he gazes at you, and your heart goes so soft at the sight of him.
“It’s time for you to go to bed.”
“Okay,” he chirps, immediately flopping onto his back again.
“Ohhhh no, not here. You gotta go. I still have to finish my work, and you…” The words stick in your throat. You can’t be here. You don’t want to say them. You want him to be here. Tonight, and tomorrow, and on and on.
But that’s a conversation for another time. Not three in the morning.
“You have to go,” you groan, sliding off the bed and grabbing his arms, less gentle and more insistent this time. “Come on, get up!”
San lets out a whine of protest. “But baby, why can’t I stay here?”
Oh, he would drop a ‘baby’ now, slipping it in so casually, so naturally, like there’s nothing unusual about him calling you that. As if it’s not something new he only started doing the other day, happening maybe a handful of times since.
Since the two of you have been doing this undefined thing, there’s really only been one unspoken rule. You sleep in your bed, and he sleeps on the couch. Even on the nights when Haneul’s working the late shift, or she’s over at Jongho’s. You never know if she’ll come home early, so you don’t risk it. It’s just easier this way.
Doesn’t mean you like it, though.
“Because. If Haneul catches you coming out of here - “
The sound of a door opening makes you freeze right down to your tongue, leaving your sentence unfinished. Your head swivels towards your own door. A pair of feet pad down the hall, getting closer, then fading away, until you hear another door being closed. The bathroom.
“Noona.”
You turn to find a sober-looking San staring at you. He reaches out, hands settling on your hips, holding on to you as you stand between his legs. Clinging again.
“She’s in early today, right?”
The two of you probably know Haneul’s schedule better than she does. You nod.
“Then I’ll just stay in here. She’ll think I never came home.”
He makes it sound so simple. So reasonable. He’ll stay here until she leaves. Why didn’t you think of that? Is it because you don’t like thinking of San with someone else, even if said person is an imaginary person who exists solely to provide an excuse that will allow you to get what you want? And if you get what you want now, it’s only going to hurt more when you can’t have it anymore?
Yeah, that’s probably it.
“I don’t know…” you bite your lip.
“Come on,” he wheedles, drawing you into his lap again, cupping your face with both hands. “Let me stay with you. Don’t you want me?”
And there it goes, the last remaining bit of your resistance.
“Okay.”
San seems a little shocked, face lighting up in delight, and you wonder if it’s at how quickly you agreed, or that you agreed at all. Maybe both.
“But we have to be quiet. So, you know…” You trail off, gesturing wordlessly.
“No moondancing?” He emphasizes the word heavily, lifting a brow, and you roll your eyes but grin as well.
“Right, none of that.”
“Just cuddles?”
As if he needs to ask. You nod. “But I’m not coming to bed until I finish my work.” You reclaim your seat at your desk, folding your arms over the back of it, trying to give the appearance of someone with a solid backbone, since yours is apparently made of pudding.
“That’s okay,” San says, already tugging his shirt off, then his pants, until he’s only in his boxer briefs. He peels back your comforter, sliding into the soft sheets, and again the action is so natural, so normal, like he does this every night, that something in your chest constricts. “I’ll just wait for you.”
Your first thought is that you should inform him that he’s going to be waiting a while, but then again, maybe he won’t.
You’re feeling suddenly inspired.
(It’s three in the morning, and you’re falling in love.)
If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕
Taglist: @sweetnspicy-noona @krystal-a @jennylychee @hiefisch
© 2023-24 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.
#ateez fanfic#ateez scenarios#ateez imagines#ateez x reader#ateez fluff#san x reader#choi san x reader#san fanfic#ateez angst#choi san fanfic#fic: it's you
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We’ll do what you want. I won’t though. I will. But also I’m so self righteous I just can’t help myself. Like totally gonna listen, cause I want to fuck you like you wouldn’t believe. But also the devil lives inside me and I just have to spout my shit, ya feel? — probably Bev Keane
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𝐀𝐄𝐑𝐎𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐒 – 𝐌𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐋 𝐎'𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀
↳ summary: miguel has an issue with the performance and comfortability of his suit. he feels he's found a suitable solution– but he can't tell you.
↳ pairing: pervy!miguel o'hara x f!reader
↳ content: 18+ MDNI. SMUT. pervy!miguel, sneaking into your home, panty stealing, miguel wears your panties, (m) masturbation, masturbating in your panties, a little dirty talk, imagines p in v sex with reader.
miguel masterlist ୨୧ main masterlist ୨୧ join taglist ୨୧ ask
Disgust coats Miguel's tongue in a kind of rancid film, his lashes fluttering closed as he tries to breathe through the turbulence of the unhinged thoughts that bounce in his skull. Of all the ideas he'd contemplated to make the suit a little easier to wear, this was by far the most demented.
The delicate, silky midnight fabric of your high-cut thong had sprung to mind late at night, sleep ebbing at the edges of his consciousness and poisoning his ethics. He'd noticed them the last time he saw you, the elasticated straps that framed your hips peeking over the denim waistband of your jeans when you bent over to collect some papers from his office floor. It's as though the image had imprinted itself on his brain's grey, swirling surface and seared into his retinas.
Friends, Miguel he had to remind himself consistently. You were his friend. Friends don't steal other friends' panties.
Frankly, this ridiculous plot had all come about thanks to the absurd skin-tight suit Miguel consistently afflicted himself with. His excuse for invading your privacy was aerodynamics. The smoother the outline of the suit, the quicker he'd swing from his webbing... Or so he told himself. It was a perfectly reasonable excuse, as far as his bias was concerned.
The temptation was intolerable. Of course, getting a thong was easy enough– Miguel could buy them from the mall with the excuse of wanting to see an imaginary girlfriend in them or order them online if it embarrassed him too much. But the debauched notion of wearing your panties, the kind you wore and smelt like you, drove him crazier than he could ever admit.
He hadn't been able to stave off the desire for very long. Some forty-eight hours later, Miguel found himself snatching the object of desire from your laundry basket, blanketed by the pitch blackness of the dead of night. Driven by this repulsive need, he'd retreated to his office almost as swiftly as he had entered your home, careful to conceal evidence of his presence. All items had been placed back neatly while Miguel scoured for your thong, and he'd pulled your bedroom window back to its original position, open just a crack.
Thoughts of your silhouette, framed only by the panties in his hand and their matching bra, had carried Miguel home. He'd been rock hard by the time he'd stumbled back into the office, practically ripping the lycra-like material from his body to slip the panties on.
So here he stood, spider-suit a crimson and midnight blue pool at his feet, naked in the mirror beside the panties that barely stretched across his ample hips. His thick, muscular thighs looked even wider when paired with the dainty lingerie and the dark trail of hair that sparsely scattered his lower abdomen looked far prettier when decorated like this.
Miguel's eyes slid over the silky fabric against his smooth, tanned skin. The silk canvas barely contained the base of his cock and his balls, straining over the ample flesh he'd managed to stuff into the already limited, thin cloth. The scalloped straps of the thongs dug into his hips, little diamonte hearts encrusted by the base of the chords– he hadn't noticed them until now, his cheeks warming as he studied them in the mirror.
The sheer mass of Miguel's frame was far too large for the undergarment, the elasticated waistband stretched across the shaft of his cock, so it rested against his stomach, erect. The ruddy tip of his swollen head leaked creamy pre-cum against his abdomen at the consistent pressure, throbbing weakly when Miguel passed his eyes over it.
"Hng-" he huffed a breath through his nostrils, the sound almost a wheeze. Fuck, he could smell you on them, the musky scent of your sex. Miguel can't contain the monster, his palm tracing over the outline of his cock. The fabric is stretched so thin against his dick that he can see it twitch, the engorged vein that extends across the arch of him evident in his reflection.
"D-Dios-" Miguel moans softly, watching precum drip from his swollen tip onto the dark fabric of your underwear. Running his thumb over the head of his cock, Miguel smears his spend over the velvety skin and watches the muscles of his abdomen spasm with the intense pleasure that spidered across his nerves.
"Oh fuck, pretty baby," he whispers, tracing the crescents arches of his nails over his clothed length, babbling to himself as he relishes your scent, imagining tasting you. "Want your pretty pussy on my face..."
Miguel's hand quickly grasps the mirror's frame, his knees threatening to collapse beneath the weight of his bliss. He's drooling precum now, steady dribbles leaking down into the elasticated waistband and trailing across his knuckles. Fuck fuck fuck– would you be as tight as your panties felt on him? Would you squeeze him like this?
Pushing his thumb beneath the seam of your thong, Miguel lifts the waist of the lingerie upwards. Shuddering breaths heaved from his ribcage, bracing as he lets the stretchy band slip from his digit.
It snaps back onto his pulsing cock with a 'crack', the stinging sensation from the impact rocking down the length of his spine as Miguel rubbed the flat of his palm across the flushed head. His jaw falls loose, vermillion irises rolling back into his skull.
"Hhah- fuuuckkk– gonna cum-" he choked out into the emptiness of his office, quickly snapping the fabric onto his length again. "Gonna fuckin' cum–"
Miguel's eyelids flutter, almost missing the lurch of his dick. Cum spurts from the tip, splattering across the reflective surface of the mirror, painting ribbons of creamy white across his bronzed skin. It seeps into the midnight blue of your panties, darker blotches oozing into the silk as he rocks his hips into his touch.
When his exceptional vision finally rights itself, Miguel notes the tearstains that streak down his cheeks, wetness clinging to the ebony eyelashes that frame his dilated pupils. He heaves a shuddering exhale, letting out a hoarse scoff at the rakish vision of himself, smeared in cum and wearing his friend's panties.
Despite the fizzling arousal that singed the edges of his nervous system, Miguel's mind continued to develop images of you. Forever unsatiated, it conjures the depiction of you sprawled across your bed with your cum stained panties balled up and stuffed in your mouth. Your jaw aching, eyebrows stitched together as Miguel's ludicrously thick cock sinks into your tight pussy. Would you tear up, back arching as you attempt to rock your hips further onto him despite the stretch?
Flopping into his desk chair, Miguel covers his eyes with his palm and feels his ravenous cock twitch under the soiled fabric once again. He was pretty confident he'd never return this thong now...
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#꒰꒰ ‧₊˚📁 ─ my works ˚₊· ꒱꒱#꒰ ‧₊˚ miguel 🕷️ ˚₊· ꒱#spiderverse 2#across the spiderverse#spider man: across the spider verse#spiderman 2099#miguel o'hara#miguel o'hara x reader#atsv#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel o'hara x you#atsv miguel#spiderman#spiderverse#miguel o’hara x y/n#miguel ohara x y/n#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara x you#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x reader#miguel o’hara fanfiction#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara fic#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara fic#miguel spiderverse
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Parings: Jason Todd x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Summary: You and Jason spend some quality time together on a balmy summer night amongst the flora and fauna. Things quickly heat up, as they so often do when the two of you are together.
Warnings: SMUT--MINORS DNI. fingering, foul language, Jason being stupidly strong and handsome and hot and hshsaksjfkhf!!
A/N: Hi hello! Since my old blog got deleted (I'm still not over it. Ten+ years of work and building up a following gone down the drain), I've decided to start reposting my old stuff here. This one used to be called Sweet Bitter, but I decided to change the name. ENJOY!
IF YOU LIKE THIS STORY, PLEASE REBLOG IT.
There’s something about the way the moonlight casts a silvery glow to your eyes, how it turns your dewy skin a pearlescent shade of indigo, that has Jason punch drunk, lips parted in silent awe while he watches you take in the scenery. You look ethereal, a goddess come down from heaven to fill the cracks in his soul with liquid gold until he’s overflowing—and fuck, he’s never been more in love with you than he is right now.
The midnight air is ripe with honeyed blossoms and earthy moss, a symphony of buzzing cicadas fills the silence as a balmy breeze tousles a few loose strands of your hair around your face. It has him reaching out to tuck them behind your ear, pulling your focus from the lush greenery around you to his glittering blue eyes instead.
Jason gives you a lazy grin, the kind that makes your stomach flutter, fingertips brushing the curve of your jaw before he settles back on his elbows across the blanket and your gaze lifts skyward. You’ve never seen so many stars before—the light pollution in Gotham almost blots out the moon most nights, and you want to commit this view to memory, to remember every twinkling ball of starlight scattered across the charcoal sky.
“How’d you find this place?” You murmur softly, fingers curling around the hem of your sundress, picking at the edge idly.
“Ivy owed me a favor.” Jason answers, laughing when your head whips around to look at him.
“This is Poison Ivy’s garden?” You hiss, eyebrows knitted together, and he laughs harder, his palm cupping your knee as he gives you a gentle shake.
“Relax, baby,” he teases, laughter still bubbling up in his throat. It makes his voice a little raspier, a little more gruff, and with it your pulse spikes, because goddamn if little things like that don’t turn you to mush. “There’s nothing poisonous here, I promise.”
You give him a skeptical look, but it quickly melts away into a smile that makes Jason’s throat tight with emotion. Yeah, he’s in deep, tilting back a swig of his beer in hopes that it’ll hide the heat that’s coloring his cheeks rosy. It doesn’t, your smile turning cheshire when you snatch the bottle from his hands and neck back what’s left.
His face turns sour, glaring at you while he folds those thick arms across his chest, his t-shirt struggling to contain the sheer mass of him, the cotton stretched to its limit. The sight has your cheeks warming, mouth going dry, because it should be fucking illegal to look like that. “I was drinking that, brat.” Jason chides, and you answer with a flick of your tongue past your lips, blowing a raspberry at him.
“Sucks to suck, I guess.” You retort, lifting your eyes back towards the sky, the distraction providing a perfect opportunity for him to wrap those massive hands around your waist and haul you onto his lap.
It’s no surprise to anyone that Jason is strong, he’s built like a brick shithouse—an absolute unit of a man from head to toe, and yet it still catches you off guard every single time he flaunts that strength. Like all of those early mornings when he’s just gotten home from patrol while you’re getting ready for work and he can’t help but lift you into his arms to fuck you in the shower, or those hazy nights when you’ve both had one too many and he’s got you folded in half against the brick wall of an alley, one hand over your mouth to muffle the sounds you make while he turns you inside out with the slow drag of his cock.
Your reaction is always the same though, an excitable giggle slipping out from behind your teeth as your hands settle on his shoulders, only this time your legs are spread open to accommodate the width of his stocky thighs. You bite your lip, and Jason’s bravado slips, if only for a moment, as his eyes track the movement, blood immediately rushing to his dick and—shit, why the fuck did he wear jeans tonight?
“Wanna say that again?” He goads, cocking his head to the side, fingertips digging into the soft flesh of your hips until you squeal, wriggling around on his lap in an attempt to flee. “Nuh uh, you’re goin’ nowhere, baby.” Jason taunts you, his arms locking around your back, pulling you in until you’re chest to chest.
It’s a wonder, he thinks, gazing at you through hooded eyes, how he ever manages to keep his hands off of you in the first place, how the two of you even make it out of your bedroom. Someone should give him a goddamn medal or something, because it takes more self control than he’s used to practicing—resisting the urge he has to tear your shit up every minute of every day.
And that’s without mentioning how you look tonight, sprawled out on top of him in that little scrap of fabric you call a sundress, the hem riding up the tops of your buttery thighs, exposing the barest hint of your core, pussy lips peeking out from behind those lacy panties you’re sporting—taunting him, begging for the kind of attention he’s all too happy to supply.
You let your hands roam, gliding across the tops of his shoulders and around to the back of his neck, fingertips snaking up through his hair, the longer pieces curling in the sticky, nighttime summer heat. “You got that much right, at least.” You tell him, because even though you’re more composed about it, you’re still just as lovesick as he is.
“Sweet talkin’ me isn’t gonna make me forget your little comment,” Jason muses, palms dragging up the outsides of your thighs until his fingers disappear beneath the skirt of your dress, thumbs rubbing heated circles into the skin, “but I’ll let you make it until we get home.”
A promise for later.
His hands travel higher still, dipping under the lace stretched thinly at the apex of your thighs. He drags them inward, tugging the sodden material away from your slit, the rough pads of his fingertips tracing the crease where your legs meet your cunt. You keep your eyes fixed on his, hiccuping a soft breath in because you know exactly what he’s thinking when he leans in, nose skimming across your jaw and up until his breath is cooling against the shell of your ear.
“Wore this thing just to torture me, didn’t you? Been flashing me these pretty little panties all night. Think you’re so clever, hm?” You puff out a shaky breath, nodding softly, your hair tickling Jason’s face. “Shame m’gonna ruin ‘em.” His fingers curl and pull, ripping at the delicate lace until it tears apart and he pulls them clean off in one fell swoop, another pair of your underwear now lost to his impatience and show-boating.
Jason lets his tongue trace over your cartilage, teeth nipping at your earlobe until you shiver, a soft whimper forcing its way out of your mouth. “So proud of yourself, aren’t you? Got me all worked up—you and that smart fuckin’ mouth in this tiny fuckin’ dress. Know what m’gonna do now, baby?”
He cups your pussy and gives it a firm squeeze, pleased as punch when his palm is met with the oozing slick of your arousal, free hand trailing up your spine until he’s cradling the back of your head. It almost feels loving, and then he tightens that hand into a fist, tangling your hair as he yanks your head backwards, exposing the column of your throat to his eager mouth.
Plush lips latch onto your dewy skin until the blood vessels rupture while Jason runs his first two fingers over your slit, spreading you open, groaning at the heat he finds there. He knows exactly what it feels like to be swamped by that heat, wrapped up in molten velvet, and he ruts his hips up into you, cock straining beneath denim, the zipper catching on his sensitive head until he rips himself away to hiss.
“Gotta get you ready, yeah? Gonna fuck you dumb when we get home, princess. Fill you so full’a my cum that it’ll be leakin’ outta you ‘til tomorrow night.” Your answering moan makes him feral, growling as he hauls your mouth down to meet his in a kiss that’s wet and messy, no desire at all to make it pretty or sweet, and that suits you just fine.
Finally, Jason lets his fingers dredge through your folds, swiping over your clit, down to your hungry little hole, and back up—teasing you, feeling the way your sensitive pearl pulses under his touch. Sucking your tongue into his mouth, he groans, drunk off the taste of you, sweet as honeydew with a hint of bitter from the beer you stole. He hooks two digits inside you, swallowing the sound you make—shell shocked and breathy while he works you open until his palm is flat against your mons.
He keeps them there, deeply seated, and curls them against your gummy walls while your fingernails dig harshly into the meat of his biceps and you squeal. It’s too much—a sensory overload, barely any effort at all and you’re already wound so fucking tight, amazed by how quickly Jason can make you sprung. “Mhm,” he murmurs against your kiss swollen lips, hazy eyes bouncing between yours, “that’s my girl, lemme hear you. Know it feels good, baby, gonna make it all better just—fuck—just sit still for me, hm?”
Lust-drunk, you nod frantically, whining low in your throat as Jason begins to fuck you with his fingers, opening you up for a third that has you bouncing softly on his lap. Christ, he’s never seen you quite like this—so wild and free, wanton cries of pleasure drowning out the consonance of buzzing from the fireflies that flit through the air around you.
“Jay,” you pant, arching into him, pretty tits perched right in his face, nipples pebbled and peeking through the thin material of your dress, “fuck, s’good. Please—wan’ cum.” He bends forward to tongue at your tits, teeth catching on those perked little nubs, lavishing them with the attention they’re sorely missing. It makes your thighs quiver, his thumb joining in his efforts to shatter you right here and now, flicking tight and hard against your clit.
“Go on, pretty girl. Cum for me, make it nice an’ messy.” He coos, the tone of his voice is almost mocking, but you’re far too lost in your pleasure to care. You’ll worry about what this means for the rest of your night later, right now all you care about is chasing the release that’s rising quickly and you to meet it.
The wet squelch of you pussy is music to Jason’s ears, his forearm burning from his efforts, fucking into you at a brutal pace while your walls flutter deliciously around his fingers. Leaning back a little, he untangles his hand from your hair and grips your jaw hard enough that it pulls your focus and you wince. “Eyes on me, baby.” He commands, desperate to watch the way you crumble for him—only for him.
Your orgasm crests and then crashes, rocketing you into bliss so sharp that you see stars, an imprint of the very same sky you were just gazing at not twenty minutes ago, your entire body quaking as he corrals you by your hip, anchors you flat atop his thighs while he works you through it. He can feel your cum rolling down his wrist, cooing and praising you with sweet words as he kitten licks the sweat gathered above your lips, across your chin, salty and earthy.
“Good fuckin’ girl. Cum so hard for me, look so goddamn beautiful, princess.” He murmurs, biting at the juncture where your neck and shoulder meet while you ride out the final waves of pleasure, flexing out your fingers from where they were wedged into his arms.
Jason gives you a moment to breathe, gentle when he slips his fingers free from your swollen, gushy core. Bringing them up to his mouth, his tongue laps at the pearly droplets running down his arm, fingers webbed with your glistening release that he suckles greedily with a lascivious moan. The sound travels straight to your overworked clit, a gentle thrumming already starting up again as he cocks a brow at you and smirks, like he just knows.
“Better get you home, huh? Don’t think Ivy would take too kindly to us defiling her garden more than we already did.” You sock him square on his chest, and he laughs, pulling you close for another kiss that you smile into, cupping his face in your hands.
“Good idea,” You answer, the tip of your nose brushing his. “Apparently I have some apologizing to do. Sensitive little baby Jason Todd can’t handle a little ribbing.”
His smile widens, not bothering to call you on your jibe. “Damn right you do,” he says, lifting you off of his lap to start gathering your things. When he stands, he offers you his hand, and you slip your fingers between his—still damp from your pussy. Glancing down at you, Jason runs his tongue over his teeth and grins again, pulling you towards the path that leads out of the garden. “Plus you own me a beer.”
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x you#jason todd smut#red hood x reader#red hood x you#red hood smut#batfam#batfamily#jason todd#red hood#smut fic#smut writing
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Welcome party.
This is my first father Paul fic, I did write it while sleep deprived so it does jump into smut pretty soon so it's not my best work but I wanted to get this fix train started easy so - This is for the few people who asked. <3 hope you enjoy it!
Word count: 1,612
Warnings: smut, father Paul says "little lamb" a few times, no proofreading
Link is here !
#father paul hill#father paul#midnight mass#monsignor pruitt#john Pruitt#4 am things#no proofread#improper use of prayer#i dont use ao3 much#idk how to tag#midnight mass crack#hamish linklater
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help i can't stop making textpost memes for a show that aired years ago
more here, and here
#father paul hill#father paul#monsignor pruitt#riley flynn#midnight mass crack#midnight mass meme#midnight mass#priley
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Can’t imagine Midnight Mass as a coffee shop AU? Clearly, you haven’t pondered the thought of Father Paul deciding that instead of disseminating angel blood through sacrament, God demands he reach a wider audience... and coffee shops are on every corner in the modern world.
So he gets a job as a barista and puts the blood in the drink orders he mixes up, violating all sorts of food standards. His favorite customers get extra blood in their frappes and lattes.
The Angel is also there in a green apron. Not as many people find this as strange as you would think.
(Some days you just REALLY need the extra serotonin that a crack AU provides. Revisiting this crack bunny on those days does make me smile a bit more.)
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Pathetic Part 1
Chris Sturniolo X Dom!Reader
A/N: you asked for it and I delivered. I am but a humble civil servant born to peddle smut to the masses.
Contains: p in v sex, female masturbation, overstimulation, toys, bondage, begging
TW: Shouldn’t be any
In which Chris is horny after coming back from tour and he ends up getting vibed like a needy slut.
Chris wants to be touched. He just returned from a tour, and Matt has dropped him off at Y/N’s house. They’ve never been apart that long, and he misses being touched. He’s been hugging fans for a month, but those are friendly touches. Chris needs the type of intimate touches only Y/N can provide.
He knocks on her front door, and she takes a while to open it. She wasn’t expecting him until tomorrow. She thought since he got back at midnight, he would unpack and get some rest. She’s in her hot girl jammies. The special pair of pajamas that every girl has for when they want to feel sexy while they sleep. Not sexy in a lingerie way but sexy in a casual “I didn’t put any thought into this; I'm just naturally this hot” kind of way. Y/N’s are a pair of very short pink pj pants covered in strawberries and a cut-up D.A.R.E t-shirt that falls sensually off her shoulders.
At the sight of her, his eyes start to well up, and he envelops her in a hug, sneaking his hands under her shirt to touch the skin on her back. His emotional greeting takes aback Y/N. “Fuck, I missed you so much.” He says into her neck with great frustration.
“Oh, my baby, you don’t have to cry. I missed you, too,” she says in a nurturing tone, rubbing his back. Let’s go inside, okay?”
“Mhmm, okay,” he says in a small voice. She leads him by the hand into her house. He is mesmerized by the way her thighs rub together when she walks, the way her hips move, and her ass jiggles. She’s so fucking sexy. When they reach her living room. In that same small voice, he says, “No, not here.” Never letting go of her hand moves, he moves so close to Y/N that their chests touch. “Upstairs,” he whispers.
“Why? I was just gonna-”
“Please, I need you.” He interrupts, his voice cracking.
She puts her hands on his face and kisses him softly. “You want me to play with you, kitten?”
“Mhmm, please.”
“Okay, baby, come with me.” She walks him to her room, and he doesn’t know what to expect, but he knows he’s going to be taken care of. Come on, let’s get these clothes off you.” He raises his arms so she can lift his shirt and remove it. Then she helps him out of his sweats and boxers. When he’s all naked, she runs her hands up his sides and over his chest, giving him chills. She has to stand on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “You’re so pretty, Kitten.”
“Thank you, miss.” his cheeks get all rosey, and he gives her a tiny smile.
“Welcome, baby. Lie on your back for me. Hands above your head and head on the pillow so you’re comfy.” Y/N watches as he gets into position. He’s not being bratty tonight. He must really be desperate, and that’s just how Y/N likes him. She opens the nightstand to retrieve a long red silk ribbon to tie Chris’s hands. The sight of her bringing out the ribbon makes his cock jump.
“Miss,” he whines because she’s taking so long to touch him where he needs it most.
“Hush, kitten.” She stands in front of the bed and slowly starts to take her shirt off, making sure her hands linger on her curves, and her hands stop to squeeze her breasts before pulling it over her head. She bends over to touch her toes before sliding her shorts down her legs. Chris is surprised she’s not wearing any panties. She doesn’t need to tease him like this; he's already so hard and ready for her.
“I’m gonna touch you now.” She looks at her acrylic nails. They’re short, stiletto-shaped, freshly done, and extremely pointy. She walks to the side of the bed and gently glides her nails from his neck to his chest. It tickles, so he smiles a bit. She drags them over his nipples. They start to pebble, and she stops to flick and suck at them. Some men don’t have many nerve endings in their nipples, but Chris isn’t one of them. His nipples are sensitive, and he loves when Y/N plays with them. Once his nipples are as hard as they can be, she runs her nails down to his navel. The sensation gives Chris goosebumps. She figures tonight is an excellent time to try sensory play. He needs to be touched, and she’s teasing him by touching him in a way he doesn’t expect. When her nails reach his lower half, his hips start to buck in a silent plea for more contact. She pulls her hands away, and he moans out of frustration.
She grabs something else from the nightstand before she sits in front of him on the bed. Her legs are open, feet flat on the bed, with her pussy on full display. “Miss, please,” he begs.
“I’ll get to you soon.” Y/N runs a finger through her folds.“But I have to take care of myself first.” She says breathily and starts to rub slow circles over her clit. She lets out a soft moan. He tugs against his restraints. It’s so hard for Chris to watch Y/N touch herself. It’s unfair that she’s not touching him and even more unjust that he can’t touch himself watching her. “I wanna be able to give you all my attention when I pleasure you.”
Once she gets her clit is all warmed up and engorged, she takes out the vibrator from behind her back. Chris remembers the very distinct moans that it elicits from her. She turns it to its first setting. Then runs the tip of her toy against her opening to get it nice and wet before she holds it onto her clit. The steady low vibration feels so fucking perfect. Her eyes shut, and she bites her lip to hold in her moans. She wants to cum quickly so she can focus on Chris, so she speeds up the vibrator. “Oh, fuck.” She rubs her toy up and down her clit. Chris can’t help but watch as her legs shake and her hips start to buck. She’s going to cum all over that toy, and he’s never wanted to be an inanimate object this bad in his whole life.
“Fuck, I wanna see you cum, miss. Please, please cum.” He says, knowing it’s what she needs to hear to get her there. With his words on her mind, she throws her head back and lets out a roaring moan. Her pussy starts to clench, and she cums.
When she comes down from her high, she hears the feeble cries Chris has been letting out. “Oh, kitten, did you want a turn?” She teases. Y/N moves on the bed to sit at Chris’s side and holds the vibrator up. “I know we haven’t tried this yet, but I thought you’d like it.” She turns it to its second setting. The one that transitions back and forth from slow to fast vibrations. Holding it only centimeters away from the tip of his rock-hard cock she asks, “Do you think you’ll like it?”
He nods his head eagerly. “Yes, miss, I do. I really, really do.” She lowers the toy onto his cock, but it starts fast, and he winces because he isn’t ready for it. As it slows to a low rumble, his muscles relax, and he is able to bask in the pleasure. He’s never felt anything like this before. Y/N starts to rub the vibrator in circles over his head. He closes his eyes, gets lost in the feeling, and lets out a low string of moans. Just as he’s getting comfortable, the vibrations gradually speed up. “Yes, yes, yes.” His moans get louder, and waves of deep pleasure roll through him, but only for a moment because already it’s slowing down. Y/N makes up for the lost sensation by stroking the base of his cock. He goes through another cycle of high vibrations, but her hands are touching him this time. His abdominal muscles start to constrict, and his hips begin to buck up into her hand. “I’m gonna cum! Can I please cum?”
“Oh, you wanna cum, kitten?”
“Mhmm, yes!” He whines.
She removes the vibrator and stops moving her hand. “Well, I don’t want you to cum, just yet.”
“Fuck!” He cries and kicks his feet in frustration.
She puts a finger to his mouth. “Shhh.. I don’t want to hear another complaint come out of your pretty little mouth.”
“I just want you to touch me and make me cum please.” He begs, his breathing uneven and heavy. Before responding, she swings her leg over and straddles him.
“I am going to make you cum. I promised I would take care of you.” She grabs his face with her hand and gives him a soft kiss. “And I always take care of you, right?”
“Mhmm.” He says, looking at her with those doe eyes. She sits on his lap with her pussy right up against his base. When she looks down, she sees the tip dripping precum onto his stomach. He is in complete and utter agony, waiting for her to line him up and sit on his cock. He rocks his hips to create some friction. He just slips himself between her pussy lips and gently jerks himself off using her folds. Y/N likes watching him get his dick all wet with her cum. She almost abandons her plan and just pushes him inside, but instead, she follows through and grinds her pussy onto him. He’s whimpering now.
“Please sit on my cock, I’ll be so good.”He’s so close to getting what he wants, but she’s just not giving it to him. Y/N grinds her hole all the way up his cock until he’s convinced she is going to let him in, but she pulls back at the last second. He lets out a little yelp, and she leans down to give him a long, passionate kiss. She moves her hips faster, and she uses her hands to pinch his nipples. He throws his head back and lets out a moan from deep in his chest. “I’m so close!”
“Oh, how close are you, kitten?”
“Please, I’m so fucking close!” She sits up, and all of the contact he so loves is lost. “No, no, no, don’t move, please!”
“I’m sorry, baby, I know, I’m so mean. I just wanna make sure when you cum you truly appreciate it.”
His eyes are closed, and he feels defeated and hopeless. Y/N takes this moment to sink down onto his cock. His eyes shoot open, and he lets out a gasp. “Yes! Thank you, miss,” she places her feet flat on the bed and uses her knees to bounce up and down on his cock. Fuck he fills her up so nice. She leans back, using his legs to keep herself up and bouncing. He doesn’t moan anymore; he whines and yelps and mewls at her every movement. He’s so fucking pathetic he has a year running down his cheek.
Y/N can’t move any faster on to him, so she says, “Buck up into me, kitten, make yourself feel good.” He does. And he does it really fucking fast. He’s jackhammering into her, and she frees one of her hands to rub her clit. Her pussy is tightening around his cock, and she’s moaning like crazy, even louder than with the vibrator. He’s so afraid to tell her how close he’s coming to an orgasm, but he knows that it’s what good kittens are supposed to do.
“I wanna cum with you!”
“Mhmm,” she nods.
“Please, miss, can I cum with you!” He doesn’t realize she already said yes. He’s losing his faculties to his impending orgasm.
“Yes, baby, you can cum! You can with cum me, and in me, and afterward, we can do whatever the fuck you want because you’ve been such a good fucking kitten for me!”
He doesn’t say anything as he climaxes; he just lets yel, which causes his voice to break. The sound of it pushes Y/N over the edge, and she sits back down on her knees, still keeping Chris inside her. She continues riding him softly, clenching and unclenching herself around him, gently milking his cock. When Chris finally returns to planet Earth, he’s okay with the small movements. Pretty soon, though, it starts to hurt. “Oh shit. That hurts a bit.”
“Hmm? You don’t like it anymore? You were just begging for it a minute ago.” She is highly amused with herself.
“That was different, and you know it.” He cringes.
“But still no safe word from you, huh? Who’s to say I’m not just giving you the thorough fucking you deserve?” She continues riding him as she unties his hands from each other. He’s much stronger than Y/N, so he uses his hands to hold her hips and stop her movements.
“Thank you, miss, for the thorough fucking, but I think the fun is over.” He says in his “real man that is 2x stronger than you” voice and playfully moves her off him.
“I was so freaking awesome tonight.” Y/N is so proud of her dom performance. “I pulled out at all the stops.” She counts on her fingers
“We had bondage, toys, edging, and overstim!”
“Yes, you did great, baby. You took advantage of my very pathetic state, and it was amazing.”
“And I didn’t have to plan it! I crafted it on the spot like a fucking evil mastermind!”
“Alright, don’t get ahead of yourself. I bet you I could do better on short notice.”
“Fuck you! No way!” She smacks his chest.
“Well, the next time you come to me in a pathetic touch-starved state, we’ll see who doms better.”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
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LAMB TO SLAUGHTER.
ao3 issue.
synopsis: a malevolent enemy resides in the dead depths of the forest during dusk, as the warnings come and go through, but said enemy was never anticipated to be so enrapturing.
authors note: making my first fic on tumblr on the predator and prey trope because like... why not
[ ♡ ] pairing: killer!simon "ghost" riley + fem!reader
[ ♡ ] genre: smut, sexual content
[ ♡ ] warnings: unprotected sex, innocence kink, soft!mean!ghost, slight taunting, loss of virginity, overstimulation, mild degradation, pet-names, dirty talk, corruption kink, age difference, oral sex (fem!receiving), sex in a forest, slight knife-play, slight breeding kink, possessive sex.
PART 1/2 | PART 2
Living in a small, unpopulated town; there was no doubt that scandals got around through other people’s mouths easily, including potential myths. Serial killers. Sightings of extraterrestrial entities. A great majority of it was falsehood and just something to possess a rise out of the community. Although, serial killer scandals were no joke compared to entities; which is what has been circulating throughout the small town for the past couple of weeks, some supposed serial killer inhabiting the local forest.
Despite there being masses of locals and officers released on a search into the forest on a daily, there was no success in locating the whereabouts of this fallacy. Worrisome spread like a plague and increased in size by each passing day, like some sort of rise of a satanic panic. Your parents, already had been plagued by this rising anxiety, warns you of staying inside all day, keeping the doors nailed shut. A single hunting rifle was granted to you, but never used; guns were something that you’ve never learnt to use, even though your father was a huge thing on hunting. (Even when you were a little girl, you declined the offer of hunting).
Of course, you would be like the average human caught in the spider’s web of this situation; terrified, fearing for life — but you just weren’t. You were more curious than anything, completely, and utterly curious to the murderer.
So at the stroke of midnight, your parents secured in their beds with rifles at their bed-side tables, you undid the lock of the back door — pulling the wooden panel open by the knob, and allowing yourself to be exposed to the outside. Conveniently, your house was pin-pointed right where the forest was, it was practically apart of your backyard. You were hesitant at first sight, trembling and enthralled by hesitance, but you soon gave it up.
Your blood ran cold in your veins as you made your steps down the porch steps, through the fielded weeds, and into the sea of forest. The more steps you took, the deeper you found yourself in the vast region of darkness, leaves of the overhead trees with little cracks of your only source of light; a faint glow of moonlight in which hung from further than the trees. Your surroundings were silent except the crunch of a fallen tree branch or an unusually heavy breath that drew from your mouth, the atmosphere was unnerving.
It was completely idiotic of you to venture out into serial-killer territory with only a simply, frilly dress of lace clothing your body from the wind. A compact switchblade rests in your fist, now noticed with a dull blade but you considered it decent enough to stab a person out of self-defense. Taking notice, your heartbeat hammers in your chest more irregularly. It swells and puffs up, making it harder to breathe in some ways, though you push through and squint your eyes at the shadows to push on.
Stupid. Stupid and brainless is what you were. You had no purpose in even proceeding with a haphazard goal. Maybe it was because you wanted to prove some bravery, make up for the times you were too coward to spend your childhood hunting and touching animal carcasses. Bravery was something you lacked and wanted to prove as something you could change, something that could be converted into something useful.
Yet, you pursued your hollow journey, swearing to yourself that you could feel eyes scorching — stalking every single one of your movements. The fictitious thought got a rise of goosebumps lining up your arms, beads of sweat forming at your skin. Although, you convinced yourself none of it was real; just another fragment of your imagination, something to frighten you to death. You drift further away into the area of woods, your curiosity striving to pave its away through your fears.
Your jaw clenches at an abrupt sound from behind. It’s a combination of crunching on dead twigs and a pale breathing — though, you’re not really sure if there was an accompanied breathing or if it was just a factor of fear acting up. You swear you’re on your last bit of sanity, about to stumble away and lose your mind right in the middle of a horrific-looking forest.
Unfortunately, there was no fear factor acting up, and it was proven when the crunch of leaves surge in speed right up the spine behind you. You’re granted no time to make a break for it or even react when a blade is pressed into the pulsing bunch of your neck, body staggering right into a larger, more towering one.
As you look up into the upper-half of the obscured silhouette, you can only make out two baths of darkened eyes which were highlighted in the luminesce of the moon. He had eyes without a face, veiled with a balaclava imprinted with features of a skull, and pale skin smeared with blotches of tar-like paint around the eyes. Edgy, but in this scenario with a blade to your neck, horrifying. You struggle to release from the man’s grasp but it’s no use when he’s made up of pure muscle, strength at levels of insanity.
“What’s a sweet, little girl doing out here at midnight?” his voice is raspy, deepened with an accent. Your heartbeat is set at severe rates.
The man holds you against him; one of his brawny arms is wrapped fully around your chest while the other is occupied with the knife. He’s a monster, you thought, barbaric for the sake of blood and other violent needs. Splatters of dried blood are visible through the holes of his mask on his skin, some of the droplets not so visible on the blacks of the mask. You pause with your struggles, stiff with the only gestures of your up-and-down chest.
“Are you going to kill me?” your words come out as an unexpected shushed whine.
“Kill you?” he said, with an almost chuckle, “Why would I bring myself to kill such a pretty thing like you?”
Relief swamps your nervous system, nearly calmed with his response. You were too naive, you gave it too quickly to facile words that could easily be frauds of the real, brutal thing. Turning back and escaping was certainly an option; it wasn’t an easy one but there could be some figured way to achieve it. However some buried, sadistic identity was telling you to stay with him — let him have his way with you, deprive you of your innocence, be something useful and obedient.
Your survival instincts were dropping like dead flies, that sadistic identity dominating those instincts. Strangely enough, you were establishing some sort of comfort in him, some portion to fill in the complete void of desolation. A pre-arousal starts to stain your cunt, panties sticky, and dressed thighs feeling limp about to give out. His breathing is heavier, as if he’s as desperate as you were, his posture adjusts. Now, you’re straight stood against his chest, eyes half-lidded and arousal felt between your inner thighs.
There’s a pulsating, overwhelming beat at your cunt; heat rushing to your face and body overturned in a fever-ish trance. He resumes with sharing a strict eye contact with you, taking notice of your doe eyes which twitched every so often.
“Your burning up, honey,” he said, observing your bare skin which smoldered under his gloved hands, “Wonder why.”
You nod your head in a disagreeing motion, not wanting to surrender to your repressed feelings, but you had a gut feeling he could tell; a fusion of sexual need, desperation, and dread which fogged in your two eyes. There wasn’t even an effort to try and hide it away from him, you just let it exhibit out like some showcase to the public eye.
“Can’t even tell me why, it’s because you’re needy, huh? Your panties all stained and sticky just because of me, getting off at knife-point.” he said, taunting how vulnerable you appeared underneath him, “You just want me to ruin this little pussy, don’t you? Needed someone to please your sticky cunt?”
God, you can’t even fight back, not at this point.
Whimpers fall from your lips like the leaves of the trees, lips red and wounded from constantly biting at them. Your eyes brim with small tears, edging to fall from position, “Please, need it so bad…”
“Shh, don’t worry, angel.” he coos, moving in sync with you towards a tree stump; pinning you to the object with the knife now tucked in his jeans. He gropes at your breasts through the flimsy fabric before hooking your thighs in a hold, lowering himself to his knees as he places your legs on his shoulders. “Is this what you want, love? Want me to make your tight pussy feel all better?”
Bobbing your head, you motion in agreement and mumble inaudible pleads. He smirks to himself behind the mask in satisfaction, bundling up the skirt of your dress till your soft panties — all sticky with arousal down your thighs — were exposed to the cold public. His thumb massages at the wet stain at the front of your panties, hips swaying in a poor effort to obey the press of the digit. He uses his empty fingers to clasp under the waistband of the cloth, dragging it down the two limbs you stood on, and pooling it down at your ankles.
You find yourself shivering on your laid back; lower-half entirely bare and only protected in a rip-able piece of dress. Your folds seem to gleam along with the natural source of the moon, cunt clenching around in vain.
“Fuck, honey, I’m going to ruin your pretty cunt so bad.” he said, his fingers branding touch into your thighs, bottom-half of his face exposed to pink lips and pale skin. “Ghost.”
“Huh?” you ask, absent-mindedly, astray.
“My name. Call me that when I ruin you.”
Ghost then wraps his naked lips around your cunt with no more words, sucking at the flesh, savoring the sweet taste. Your body convulses for a second before being nailed down to the wood of the stump, physically feeling yourself being ruined by the town’s most wanted. Squirming, releasing a variety of whines into the atmosphere. His fingers soon join the ministrations of his mouth, the two fingers pumping up inside of you, sending you into a condition of euphoria with the immense pressure.
Throwing your head back over the edge of the stump, you spread your legs further apart for him, bathing in the nature of his fingers and mouth smacking at your cunt at the same time. You grip at the top of his mask, the black cloth stretching with elasticity. A symphony of angelic, erotic sounds hum from your lips as his mouth gives pleasure at your clit. Ghost grunts occasionally, muffled right into your delicate features. A strain in your stomach warns of your closing orgasm.
Your hips practically ride his tongue in careless movements; doing so until the tension in your stomach climbed up steep heights until it reached the top, letting go — fucked-out and overtook with euphoria while his fingers thrusted through your sensitive cunt.
“Ghost…”
“That’s a good girl, so good,” Ghost said, extracting his fingers and lapping at the arousal that stained them. “All nice and stretched out for me, yeah? You want me to fuck up this innocent pussy?”
“Please,” you whimper, narrowing your eyes through the absence of light to peer at him, eyes doe and watery — unknown to what you were pleading to.
“Don’t worry about it, doll,” he stated, “It’ll feel good, I promise. I’ll breed your cunt, ruin you for every other man,” Ghost strokes your face with a gentle significance, “Would you like that?”
You swipe your tongue across a bitten lower lip. “Want that, I’ll be all yours, tear me apart.”
“That’s right, angel,” he said with a sharp breath, hands of veins coming to unfasten the belt that held up his jeans, the combination of his pants and briefs sliding to his ankles; his cock was erect, rigid right against the black tactical jacket he wore. “You’re all mine, and I’ll ravage you as much as I want.”
Empty-headed, you extended both your arms out to his face, caressing it, as you rammed your own lips into his. He tasted of a faint tea, and flavors of vulgar nature, he was heaven. His hands rest at either side of your waist while yours rest at his divided face — the lips of a murderer on yours were so immorally pleasant to hunger at. With an inclined figure over your stow figure, he parts his lips from yours and composes himself right between your thighs, fingers holding down onto the skin.
Ghost pushed lined his cock with the entrance of your cunt; he sheathes himself into you in a quick, single move of his hips. You whine, clenching around him in fluttering flickers, taking the time where he wasn’t moving to give a try at adjusting to both his length and bulk. His eyes stalk into your body, keeping them pinned on you as he starts off slowly, growing to be increasingly fast.
“That’s it, you’re okay, love,” he breathes out, “Keep clenching around my cock, just like that.’
You’re moaning his name like a verse. The blends of skin-on-skin, masculine grunting, and feminine moans were like a pitch-perfect harmony of raw lascivious.
“So angelic, baby, such a pure little thing.” Ghost grunts, “Such a whore for my cock, she likes having her sloppy cunt fucked by a killer, doesn’t she?”
You rapidly nod, tears streaming in rivers across your cheeks, down your neck. Having him inside you was the most divine thing you could’ve experienced, so cherish-able and unforgettable. He was some kind of angelic entity, casted by the looks of demonic circumstances, much like Lucifer. His lips meet at the fleshy base of your neck, teeth stabbing at the skin, soothing over the impacted wounds with the muscle of his tongue.
His thrusts are near-animalistic, pounding through your walls like a starved man, feeling him right at your cervix. You never thought you could get so defenseless, so yearning for a man of his nature. Some blood stains the skin of his cock, a symbol of loss, no longer the pure he says you are. But that could only mean you truly did belong to him.
“You going to let me come inside you, honey?” he asks, “You’ll never be alone again, I’ll always be a reminder of the first man you’ve fucked.”
“Yes!” you squeal, “Come inside me, make me yours.”
And with a few more stinging, godlike thrusts, the stance of his hips are pressed right up against your swollen cunt, the warmth of his seed felt splattering your walls — right as deep to your cervix. He remains in place, slouched over and heavy-breathed, you’re grasping at the chances of air into your lungs. You feel him twitch inside of your overstimulated cunt, earning him a small number of additional whines from your vocal chords.
Some of his come, along with your arousal, leaks out you and stains your inner thighs in a white; his cock is painted in the same shade. You’re both left to sound like panting dogs. (Having fucked like two creatures out in the wilderness, which was, substantially, exactly that.)
Ghost parts away, a last whine trailing off at the loss of him making you feel so full. His torso tugs with more breaths that were in progress of being caught; you’re giving him a latent smile — one of a drunk’s, no teeth bared, just lines of your lips. It’s abnormal. You weren’t supposed to show a man of homicide such endearment, passiveness — unless under the influence of some kind of Stockholm Syndrome — that was impossible, only having met him as of tonight.
“Such a pretty girl,” he said, reaching for back for the knife and sliding the blade in a caressing motion at the side of your face, “Like a lamb — I’m so obsessed with you.”
With his knife, handled in a solid fist, embracing your flesh — littered with imprints of your face pressing into the bark of the stump — he drew the metal of the blade to your collarbone. Some of the bone stuck out like an overgrown root in the ground, most of it just plain skin. You’re stuck in a vision of ecstasy, left incompetent at the hands of him; so all you really can do is grant him the consent of him to touch you, wound you up, kill you, earn up to his title.
A shiver crawls up your spine when the edge comes into contact with your cold, nude skin. Fear drowns in your cold veins, awaiting the possible death that could send you lifeless in a matter of seconds.
But to your own revelation, there is no flash of red, or a blistering puncture of skin in the contour of his weapon — only a minimal blistering. When you angle your head to look for the source of the slight burn, there’s a crimson puncture right above your breasts, deep enough to bleed; shallow enough to not cut at the bone or exhaust blood to the point of inevitable death. Gaping up at him through your languid sights, a rare tenderness occupies his distinct eyes; almost humane, incapable of brutality. He’s still situated between your spread thighs which are support at his waist, the material of his jacket sticking to your sweat-lustered skin.
There’s a strange intimacy shared between the both of you; with his body found in position between your thighs and hands — that abandoned the knife back into his pocket — latching themselves at each side of your hips. His fingers were pressed in a bruising, modest touch. As Ghost inclined himself back down your body, his visible lips press kisses to your forehead that drifted and continued on at your neck. You release a noise from your chest, circling your arms around his chest in a sort of hug, a hand brought up to his head and guiding him to your lips instead — deepening out a kiss that was more passionate, messier than before.
“You should’ve killed me, like all the others.” you confess at his lips.
He gathers one last taste of you before pulling away, still kept close and leaned down. Silent, he observes you and the confession which lingered in the air, possibly choosing wisely on how to answer it.
“You’re special,” he states, “Angelic, docile — nothing that I’ve come across before.”
#ghost mw2#simon ghost riley#ghost x reader#ghost x f!reader#ghost x female reader#ghost smut#simon riley x reader#simon riley smut#simon riley x you#simon riley x f!reader#simon riley x female reader#cod mw2#cod mw2 fanfic#call of duty fanfic#mw2 fanfic#female reader
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