#ESPECIALLY NOT A RED RIDING HOOD WEREWOLF

[dmitriene]

cw: visions of predator prey, innocence kink?

halloween with simon riley where you dress like an adorable red riding hood, it was a quick enough choice of costume, especially since simon doesn't really like to dress up, his work in the army is enough for him, so when you offered him to transform into a werewolf, which only requires a simple outfit, as well as already buyed ears and a tail, he didn't refuse.

he ain't a man that needs to play the role of a predator, he is one himself, the acting of a big, bad wolf coming to him naturally, greedy, opaque darkness of his eyes hides behind the mask and the sweep of his framing eyelashes, glancing at the flutter the little hem of your dress does, gentle, autumn breeze outside seems to be playing with your outfit under simon's gaze.

simon acts patiently in front of the public, clawed hands tugging at the fabric of his trousers all the time he's behind you, watching you just enjoy an easy walk, handing out sweets from a couple of bags that you just recently bought to the kids running by, smiling at them wide and sweet, giggling when they look warily behind your back, whispering about a scary man that stands there.

you lean a little lower to whisper in their ears that he's not a danger to them, because you were able to tame this wolf, and you're right, because all simon is focusing on right now is the way your breasts are squished together, visible from behind the round neckline decorated with ruffles, giving you an even more innocent look, and this time, his cock does throbs in the confiness of the pants, straining against his muscular, bulging thigh.

simon shows you exactly what a good wolf he is, pressing his sharp, drooling maw in the crook of your neck, huffing in your scent, a real dog, pounding in your pussy with deep, deliberate pumps of hips, filling you full, tummy bloating as you squeak hoarsely, pinned down splaying over the sheets, your ass bruised from his sloppy movements, fueled by lustfull ache that makes his fangs close around your pulse point, skin sensitive and thrumming wild, your gooey walls clutching his engorged cock tight.

you open your mouth obediently for him when he sticks a tongue in, licking over your teeth's, enjoying every little mewl and keen that pours out from your slack lips, his vulnerable, innocent girl, soppy hole stuffed full of him, milking the pulsing girth that jams against your spongy spot precisely, trembling legs giving out beneath you, leaving you jolting on the bed and accepting everything simon gives you.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[pastelclovds]

thinking about red riding hood laios with big bad wolf shifter!reader…

cw: forest sex, knotting, male!reader, size difference (reader is 3 ft taller than laios), blood (laios gets scratched a bit sooo), reader and laios are obsessed with each other, cock slut laios, everything’s planned cause laios and reader are FREAKS

your laios looked gorgeous in the outfit you hand picked for him to wear in this… lewdly hot scenario he wanted to act out with you.

you knew how fascinated laios was of you, especially with your abilities to transform into any creature at will. you also knew just how blunt he was when it came to his needs, and you willingly fulfilled every single one of his wishes. no matter how outlandish they were. your laios was a creative, horny nerd.

you were enjoying each other’s company in comfortable silence one day when out of the blue he asked you, “have we ever had sex in the woods before?”

that question made you cough out your water as laios looked up at you with curious eyes that quickly turned dark. ravenous scenarios popping up in his head left and right. you knew that smile of innocence was fake as he asked you if you wanted to “try something”. you didn’t refuse, of course.

and that’s how you ended up here.

naked. in your werewolf form. in the middle of the woods. secluded far away from prying eyes. at midnight where the moon was high and creating light bright enough to make the forest visible. but even if it didn’t, your night vision would’ve helped you.

and even if you didn’t have your vision, you could track laios’ scent from miles away. it smells like a mix of nuts and spices. it’s so addicting, you would die happy if it suffocated you.

your cock is already leaking pre at the sight of his ridiculously short frivolous red skirt barely being able to cover his satin panties. the cape attached to his hood sways as he takes cautious steps over leaves and puddles.

he isn’t carrying kensuke or any other weapon in his basket. just snacks, tissues, and containers of water for after the fun. the fact that he trusts you that much that you’ll protect him makes your heart and cock throb.

when laios purposely steps on a branch, its crunch filling the deafening silence of the forest, it was your signal to make yourself known. your paw makes a loud thump as you step foot from your place behind the tree.

laios trembled in both fear and excitement at the sight of your towering form. the sharp claws on your hands scraping against the bark of the tree, your fluffy chest rising and dropping from your heavy breathing, and tail raised in anticipation.

his eyes drift to the hardened cock hanging between your furry thighs, your balls heavy and ready to be emptied, and your dilated pupils say everything else. hungry. savage. predatory.

show time.

laios turns his heel and bolts away from you. you let out a low growl as you lower your body, place your palms on the ground, and dart after your mate like a wolf chasing its prey. with your increased speed and stamina, laios only ran off ten feet before he was tackled. he gasps when his chest hits the ground.

he’s still as a rock when he feels your claws grip onto his cape. he glances up behind at you in false terror. your razor sharp teeth glinting in the moonlight as you grin devilishly at him.

“what’s a pretty thing like you doing in my woods? don’t you know better than to go inside someone’s home unannounced? naughty boy…~” you said mischievously, you suddenly flip laios on his back, making him squeak in surprise. you could clearly see the raging boner tenting his skirt, a tiny wet spot growing from where his twitching cock spilled pre. he quickly closed his legs to block your view, cheeks blooming in red.

“i believe that rude intruders—” you effortlessly push his legs apart and teared his skirt to shreds, laios cried out in embarrassment as now all he had to cover his privates was his satin panties, “should be punished.”

laios eyes tear up as he pleads, “i-i didn’t know this forest belonged to you. please have mercy!” you laugh cruelly as you lean down to lick his salty tears away. his belly twitches from where your claw rests above his waistband before tearing his panties in two as well. now he’s completely vulnerable beneath your gaze, his cock laying uselessly against his stomach.

“you really are adorable, naively believing you’ll go scott free by saying a simple please.” you flip laios on his chest once again, raising his ass in the air with your palms on his waist, as if he weight nothing. laios grows unbelievably harder. he wishes he had superhuman abilities like you. you were so strong and powerful and cool and hot— GODS he wanted you to take him already. he freezes when he feels your throbbing cock against his ass.

he wanted to be used for all he’s worth, filled to the brim with hot cum, he loved how your knots forced his hole to stretch out in order to pop inside, oh he loved you so so much—

laios sobbed when he felt the tip of your cock prod his well lubed hole, one of your hands left his waist to roughly press against his back so that only his ass was up, obediently presenting to you like a bitch in heat. he felt your labored breaths against the back of his neck as you growled out, “you’re mine, pretty thing.”

laios claws at the dirt below him as he felt you slip inside him inch after glorious inch. he yelped when the head of your cock nuzzled right against his prostate. you knew laios was ready to start, so you didn’t bother with waiting to begin.

you started with a quick but rough pace that left laios moaning helplessly at the great pleasure you gave him. pulling out a few inches before slamming into your mates tight hole, balls slapping wetly against laios’ ass as pre drips from his cock and makes a puddle of whiteish liquid on the dirt. without warning, laios cums. his body halting abruptly as his climax washes over his body, his eyes roll back when you don’t cease your thrust. overstimulation prodding at his nerves like the head of your cock hitting his prostate at every thrust.

you pull your head back to listen for anyone nearby, thankfully you don’t. probably because the only thing your senses can focus on is laios. your fingers brushing his hair, your nose overwhelmed with the smell of sex and sweat, laios loud moans and whimpers filling the silence of the forest, your eyes hyper focused on the sight of your pelvis lewdly slapping against his ass. nobody else mattered at that moment but him. your gorgeous laios.

you groan when laios tightened around you, your pace faltering as you felt your belly grow hot and your knot thickening at the base of your cock. laios’ toes curl when he feels your knot catch on the rim of his asshole, a pure euphoric smile overtaking his features as pleasured tears fill his eyes.

“i’m close, i’m gonna fill you up. would’cha like that, pretty thing?” you managed to ask, laios frantically nods his head in a ‘yes’ motion as he grinds against your growing knot. “yes yes, please do it! i-i’m gonna—” white pleasure crashes into him again just as your knot pops past his abused rim, locking you inside him as ropes of warm cum fill him until he felt full and hot. Laios’ legs give up holding his weight as he laid weightlessly on the ground, your palms are the only reason why his ass is in the air. your balls clench for the last time, finally releasing all you had into him before going flaccid.

laios whines when you attempt to pull out, streams of your cum leaking out of him. “nooo, stay inside. you feel so warm, so good— hah-” laios pleads, desperately grinding against the base of your cock, trying to find your knot to plug him up again. you chuckle under your breath, you should’ve known one round wouldn’t be enough to satisfy your mate.

laios whimpers when he feels your cock slowly harden inside his loose hole.

a/n: I’M BAAAAACK ⁉️ hope you enjoyed :)

[m-neuvillette]

Star Rail Men and their duo Halloween costume

HAPPY HALLOWEEN EVERYONE!!

Characters: Argenti, Aventurine, Blade, Boothill, Caelus, Dan Heng, Dr Ratio, Gallagher, Gepard, Jiaoqiu, Jing Yuan, Luka, Luocha, Moze, Mr Reca, Sunday, Welt Yang, Yanqing

Notes: fem reader, implied to be shorter and smaller than him

Authors note: Hi everyone!! Our last post actually got way more popular than we thought it was going to so thank you so much for that!!! We hope you all have a safe and Happy Halloween!!

Argenti

100% knight and princess. He’ll be in nice silver armor (with red and gold accents of course) and you’ll be in a long red dress. He will be walking around all night talking about his beautiful princess!!

Aventurine

You guys would be pilots, like in Top Gun! He would be the pilot and you would be his co-pilot, of course! You would be wearing matching green pilot suits and while you guys were out and about he’d make you wear his hat and sunglasses instead of the pilot ones because he thinks you look better in his things that any costume!

Blade

You guys would both wear purge masks! This is kinda of obvious since death is kinda of his whole thing hehe. He’d be wearing a white dress shirt and black dress pants with blood splattered all over them. You’d be wearing black shorts and a black shirt with a white button up splattered with (fake) blood. You would both wear red purge masks to match! When you guys were going out, Kafka said that this was the perfect costume for you guys :)

Boothill

Based on the halloween art hehe but a mummy and Indiana Jones. But he REFUSES to be Indiana Jones so he has his you dress like him but make it cute and girly in your style and of course you’re wearing his hat. Be prepared for him to lowkey moan in your ear all night claiming “it’s what a mummy sounds like”.

Caelus

You guys would be pirates! He’d, of course, be the captain and you his first mate, because he is THE Galactic Baseballer, he has to be the captain. He would totally want to dress up exactly like Jack Sparrow, and how can you deny him that? You would be wearing loose black pants, a white undershirt with a black corset on top, along with a brown overcoat! You guys would totally get matching pirate hats too, because how can you not match?

Dan Heng

You guys are going to be a zombie bride and groom. He actually gets really excited at the idea especially when you show him the makeup and suit he’d be wearing. He thinks it’s so cool with how you do your guys’ makeup as a zombie plus the entire time you’re doing his makeup he loves how close you two are. And when he sees you in that wedding dress costume he knows he needs to propose as soon as possible to make that dress a real one.

Dr Ratio

Easily evil scientist and Frankenstein. You try to convince him to be Frankenstein because he’s much stronger and taller but he gives you a look of “I’m an actual scientist I’m being the scientist”. He also complains that he doesn’t want to be green. So fast forward and you are in a black outfit all green with the makeup and props to be Frankenstein while he’s wearing a lab coat and glasses. By the end of the night he’s a little green because he kept giving you kisses (so much for not wanting to be green).

Gallagher

You guys are the definition of werewolf and little red riding hood. He also thought about this way in advance so his little stubble is actually a beard by the time Halloween comes around. He also got your costume way in advance and he picked it out perfectly. A cute white dress with the red robe of course. He also has no shame in growling in your ear all night.

Gepard

He’s the cop while you’re the prisoner. Poor guy feels bad making you the prisoner, you literally have to tell him it’s okay and it’s just a costume and that it’s not that serious lol. But once you have on that orange jump suit showing off your body he accepts the idea. He also tells you often throughout the night that you’re the prettiest prisoner he’s ever seen!

Jiaoqiu

A witch and wizard. Since he loves to cook he wanted to be a wizard so he could make “potions” with you. So here you are in a black dress and witch hat while he’s in a long red robe making treats and potions. Your guys’ treats and potions were a hit at the party, and Jiaoqiu walks around saying of course they were because your guys magic is incomparable.

Jing Yuan

Football player and cheerleader. Dude is so buff how could he not want to show off his muscles in a football jersey ahah, but there you are wearing a cheerleading outfit with his jersey number written on your face. The number doesn’t last long because he keeps kissing it throughout the night.

Luka

You guys would be matching boxers! it was his idea, because he is a fighter after all! You would wear matching red jackets, because red is kind of his color so the choice was obvious. You’d be wearing black shorts and a black tank top, while he would just be wearing black shorts! He spent a good amount of the night begging you to “fight him”.

Luocha

You guys would be matching grim reapers! He does carry around a coffin, so it’s only fitting that you guys are grim reapers! You would both be wearing long black robes with skeleton masks. You begged him to still carry his wonderful companion (the coffin) around because it fits the costume perfectly!

Moze

You guys would go as matching Ghostfaces! You told him you had to go as him because he’s amazing at using a dagger, so it fits perfectly! You guys would be wearing long black robes with the Ghostface mask. He gave you one of his daggers to “make it more realistic”, when in reality he just wants to see you use his daggers ehe.

Mr Reca

You guys would be the Joker and Harley Quinn! It took some convincing to get him to step away from filming and dress up, but he relented when you brought up that you two would really just be acting and that Halloween is just one big film! By the end of the night he was fully convinced that Halloween is the best day ever and that you guys just dress up every year so that he can make a new film each time.

Sunday

Angel and devil. This is self explanatory but he puts up a fight. He claims you should be the angel because “you’re his angel” you pause for a second while blushing but telling him he has to because he already has the wings and halo. He finally relents after some time but it’s because he loved that short red dress on you hehe.

Welt Yang

You two wanted to keep it relatively simple so you went as nerds! Here you guys are with your glasses, flannels and books looking like the best nerds ever. The funny thing about the costume was March begging you not to become “a real nerd” because she can’t be surrounded by 3 nerds on the express.

Yanqing

You guys are definitely vampires! It took some convincing to get him away from his sparring routine, but don’t worry Jing Yuan was there to force him to dress up with you hehe. He would be wearing a classic black suit and you would be in a black dress with red accents. You would of course have matching black and red capes! At the end of the night he asked what you guys would be dressing up as next year :)

[holybibly]

this is such a weird scenario ..but imagine a little red riding hood concept, the big bad wolf being san, and him tricking innocent reader into "playing" with him and just fucking her dumb in the woods !!

God baby, I love the Little Red Riding Hood concept. I'm such a slut for it, to be honest. I'm a little obsessed with dark, twisted gothic fairy tales.

You should have heeded the warnings before you wandered alone through the woods on a full moon night. Or where you're meeting a big, handsome and very mean wolf from whose clutches you won't easily escape and maybe that's exactly what you want.

Warning: Dub-con, Werewolf! San

The night air was unpleasantly cold against your bare skin, ripping you from the sweet embrace of Morpheus. You reluctantly shivered and slowly opened your eyes, only to be greeted by the dense darkness of the forest. The sudden lack of sunlight jolted you from your half-sleep state, sending an unpleasant shiver down your spine and your heart pounding loudly in your chest as the forest around you continued to sing the song of the night. 

You shouldn't be out here, especially at such a late hour. You hurriedly gathered your belongings and cursed yourself for letting the beautiful meadow of flowers enchant you and for letting your guard down. You had been warned that ancient magic lived in these woods and that you should be very careful when you walked along the path through them, but of course you hadn't listened, and now you regretted it. You had always assumed that all these warnings had been given because of your gender. Most of the people in your small town were still stuck in the Dark Ages, thinking that a girl couldn't go through the forest alone. You wanted to prove them wrong. 

Another cold gust blew across the clearing, and you wrapped yourself tighter in your heavy cape. The velvet fabric was expensive and luxurious, a rich scarlet that earned you your nickname, Little Red Riding Hood. 

You were sure that you were going to be all right. You were smart and savvy, and you had a hunting knife with you. You'd think that would be more than enough to handle anything that might be lurking in these woods and get you back to your grandmother's house unharmed. At least that is what you thought. 

A long, blood-curdling howl echoed across the clearing, freezing you in place and halting your frantic gathering. Dear Lord...

Your eyes automatically rise to the night sky, only to find your worst fears confirmed: Through the dry, tangled branches of the trees, the brilliant face of the full moon illuminates the earth with its diffuse silvery glow. The words of your grandmother, which she had been repeating to you ever since you were a child, came to your mind at once: "Beware of the moon, whose face is full and merry, my child, for this is the time when its children have their feast. And their hunger is insatiable and greedy'. Another howl pierced your heart, a reminder of the situation you were now in. 

Wishing that you had listened to the warnings, you ran, clutching your beautiful wicker basket tightly with your hands as your scarlet cape evolved behind your back. You weren't sure of the right way as you ran through the dense thicket of the forest. You sobbed softly as the sharp branches of bushes and trees dug into your skin, leaving long, lacerating marks; the warm, crimson liquid running down your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your tall, white socks, spreading the seductive scent of your blood through the forest. 

Nothing seemed to be familiar to you in the thick, impenetrable darkness of the night. You stumbled through the massive roots of the trees and almost fell into a thorny bush with heavy, glistening bunches of poisonous berries hanging from it. You're so tired already—you can hear your heart pounding in your chest through your laboured, hoarse breathing.

Another furious growl echoing through the air keeps you from stopping, forcing you to keep running. You could almost feel the hot, wet breath of the wolf on your neck and the sharp claws on your skin, and it seemed to you that if you stopped for even a moment, the wolf would tear you to pieces. The hair stood up on the back of your arms, and the image of the sharp-toothed monster pinning you to the ground filled your mind's eye. No. No. No. You shake your head, hoping to banish the dark thoughts and push away the horrible images of blood and broken bones. 

A sharp pain blossomed on your face as you fell face first, stumbling over a large dried log and almost losing consciousness from the combined sensations. It was horrible—your mouth was full of dirt mixed with blood from a busted lip, your knees were skinned and bleeding, and in general you want nothing but sobbing with despair and fear. 

The hopelessness of your situation was more palpable to you now, when you're sitting in a pile of dirt and leaves, than ever before. A deep and low howling sounded from behind you, sending a shiver of cold down your spine. It made you jump to your feet, in spite of the sharp pain that you felt at such a sudden movement. You looked around anxiously. You glanced around anxiously, letting out a small sigh of relief at the fact that there was no one in your wake. But you didn't stop, the edge of the forest was already in sight, the soft welcoming light of the nearby village's lanterns calling to you. 

Your relief was short-lived, however, as a warning growl suddenly sounded directly in front of you, a pair of sacred silver eyes glaring out from the shadows of the forest. You gasped loudly as a tall, broad-shouldered fellow emerged from the thicket, his plump scarlet lips raised in a snarl, tongue slowly sliding over sharp teeth as he began circling you. 

This was not good, so damned not good. Cold fear gripped your heart with a tight grip, your hands clutching your basket tightly, shaking slightly at the low rumbling growl that came from the guy. Your frightened, wide-eyed gaze darted from the wolf to the forest path leading to the village; if you tried hard enough, you could get away from him. The boy noticed your gaze and shifted his sharp eyes to the narrow path leading out of the forest. He snorted slightly, as if the thought of you running from him amused him.

"You shouldn't even try, sweetheart. You can't escape me, little Red." The man's husky, deep voice made you flinch, but the way he addressed you by name as if he knew you made you drop the basket and cover your mouth with your hand to hold back your terror-filled scream."

He turned to face you again, and you could see his lips curl up in a predatory grin, revealing deep dimples on his cheeks. You couldn't help but notice how beautiful the wolf was—perhaps the most handsome man you had ever seen—and that fact made you fear him even more. Nothing ordinary and natural could possess such breathtaking beauty, which meant that the guy in front of you was many times more dangerous than any real wolf prowling around this forest thicket that night.

"Why are you so scared, little Red?" He slid his tongue over his lips as he kept his dark gaze on you. "I can almost feel your fear on my tongue." He murmured, the deep sound practically vibrating in the air. "I just want to play with you, beautiful. I promise I won't bite you... hard." His voice trailed off at the last word, his breathing getting heavier as he began to slowly approach you. 

You began to back away from him, trying to put as much distance between you as possible, and he clearly didn't like it. 

"You're not running away from me..." He growled, and those were the last coherent words you heard before he pounced on you, digging his claws into your skin and tearing at the edges of your cloak and skirt that prevented him from reaching you. The loud sounds of tearing cloth echoed through the forest as you tried to grab onto anything that might help you crawl away from him. 

"You'll have no run from me..." He growled, and those were the last coherent words you heard before he pounced on you, his claws digging into your skin and tearing at the edges of your cloak and skirt that were blocking his path. The loud sounds of ripping cloth echoed through the forest, and you tried to grab hold of anything that might help you to crawl away from him. 

"No. Please, no. Let me go, please...". But your words fell on deaf ears. In one swift motion, he flipped you onto your stomach, and you squealed loudly. Limiting all movement, his broad hand pressed between your shoulder blades. "No!" You cried out again, but a sharp slap on your bottom, which was suddenly bare, made you stop all your movements. You didn't even notice it as he tore off your clothes completely, leaving you vulnerable and naked for him to see. "I-I... please let me go..." All your energy has left your body, and you sob softly. He lifts your hips with one hand and puts you in the position he wants you to be in. 

"You were warned, little Red. Weren't you? You have been told to stay out of the woods, especially during the full moon. But have a look at where you are now. A stupid little girl, too self-confident to listen to anyone's advice, and that's what girls like you get. A big, bad wolf will eat them alive." The last sentence came out of his chest in a low, vicious growl before you felt a hot, slippery tongue travel between your buttocks. 

The pointed tip slid between your labia, salivating over your tender folds. He removed his hand from your back only to dig his fingers into your buttocks and spread them wide apart, holding you completely open for him so that he could feast on your cunt with ease. Pitiful sobs escaped from your mouth as you felt his rough, long appendage snaking its way between your folds, rubbing against your clit and poking at your hole as it tried to force its way in. His claws dug themselves into your flesh in painful fashion, leaving bloody marks that were sure to become scars. 

The sensation of the wolf's tongue licking desperately at your cunt and the wet, feverish breath that washed over your sensitive centre caused your body to react against your desire.

A shameless moan of pure pleasure escaped your lips faster than you could stop it. Covering your mouth with your hand, you tried to swallow the embarrassing sounds as the werewolf's long tongue continued to wash your clit with its warm, viscous saliva. You couldn't enjoy it... it was simply impossible. This guy was dangerous; he wasn't human; he was a horrible, hungry wolf pinning you to the ground in the middle of the night forest. You were terrified, but that didn't stop your body from responding joyfully to his touch. 

Every movement of his tongue on your pussy made your hole clench around nothing and ooze juices. This only excited him more as he greedily licked up every drop of sweet slime that flowed from you onto his tongue. Eventually it wasn't enough, and the wolf pressed his whole mouth against your little hole and began to literally drink from your pussy. 

Your hips began to shake as you approached your orgasm. Your fingers dug into the loose soil, dirt collecting under your fingernails as you tried to fight the rush of pleasure coursing through your entire body. It was completely futile. Against your will, the werewolf made you scream in blinding pleasure as the first of many orgasms shook your entire body. 

As your fluids poured into his mouth, giving him a full taste of your sweet flavour, he growled low as he thrust his tongue into your hole and licked your juices from your trembling walls. This went on for a few minutes until you felt his hands leave your body. A vague sense of relief filled you as you hoped he would leave you now that he had got what he wanted. But that relief was quickly replaced by panic as his clawed fingers pinned your fragile shoulders to the ground and his unnaturally hot and massive length rubbed against your arse, staining it with sticky pre-cum. 

He rubbed against you like a dog in heat, his hips pressing against you as if he were too lost in his lust to pay attention.

Hot breath scorched your cheek as he pressed his entire body against you, laborious growls and puffing escaping his throat as his heavy, hard cock dragged between your buttocks. You turned your head slightly to the side to catch a glimpse of the man looming over you, his sharp fangs glinting in the moonlight, and you almost regretted looking.

Every movement he made against you made your stomach twist with a mixture of fear and pleasure, and although the rational part of you was in a state of pure terror at the realisation of what awaited you, on some deep subconscious, twisted level you enjoyed it.

The werewolf's cock seemed almost as long as your torso, there was no way you could take it all in. But that didn't seem to bother him tonight. As the head of his cock entered your hole, you sobbed from the painful stretching and squeezed your eyes shut as he began to push his cock deeper into you. It was thick, so fucking thick that the tender edge of your pussy burned when the entire head of his cock was inside, but that was only the beginning.

The first few inches were enough to awaken your senses, pleasantly stimulating your quivering walls, but as he pushed further into you, the pain came. But that didn't matter to the werewolf on top of you. You whimpered and shook your head from side to side as the man above you moaned deeply as he continued to thrust his cock relentlessly into you.

"Please…" You sobbed openly now, hoping this would be over quickly.

"Mmm, look at you, you're acting so nice now. You were warned, little Red, but you decided to be a naughty girl and came to the wolf yourself, knowing full well what would happen to you. So don't play hard to get and take what is given to you." The wolf towering over you growled in your ears.

The more it pressed into your body, the more you became afraid and grabbed at tree roots and plants. For anything within reach that might help you free yourself from him. Your face crinkled in pain and your teeth clenched tightly together, grinding against each other. When it finally settled into your body, you'd never felt so full. You couldn't see it, but you could feel the great bulge in your belly, perfectly mirroring the contours of his cock.

When he begins to move, pulling his monstrous length out of you, you find it strange. His cock entered you much deeper than it could be possibly, and when it was completely out of you, you felt so empty, your cunt clenched around nothing, already missing the warmth of his cock. When he entered your cunt again, you let out a sound mixed with eroticism and a painful cry. It wasn't bad, but not necessarily good. His cock seemed too hot, buried deep inside your body, but every thrust in and out of your pussy rubbed against a sensitive ball of nerves that made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

"No! I don't want this! Please stop..." The voice in your head did its best to drown out the sensations overwhelming every other sense in your body, but it was useless. The wolf's large body pressed against your back, his feverishly hot, wet skin rubbing against the exposed areas of your skin that were visible through your tattered cloak with each sharp thrust into your body. 

His rhythm grew rougher and sharper as he stretched the tight confines of your pussy. Promises to fill you with his cum and give you his puppies came in steady succession with each thrust of his hips.

Wide eyed, you watched his fingernails dig into the dirt beside your head and thanked the gods that those nails were no longer digging into your skin. They pulled the earth a few inches away from your face, reminding you of the strength in those hands. He could have easily broken your neck with a snap of his fingers. Instead, he shifted his stance, his foot pressing your face deeper into the dirt beneath you.   You should have been disgusted; it was wrong, but something dark and twisted inside you made you even more aroused, enjoying everything that was happening.

Your quivering, slippery walls tightened around him, and you heard him moan deeply in response.

"You like it, don't you? What a dirty bitch you are, little Red. Do you like it when I claim the rights to your tiny human cunt? Does it turn you on that I'm fucking you like a bitch in the middle of the forest?"

"Please..." Your voice was swallowed by a loud, air-piercing howl as the wolf howled over you in pleasure. 

Your entire body shook beneath him as he fucked you with reckless abandon, his hips slamming painfully against your arse, causing the tender skin on your buttocks to become irritated and red. It was disgusting; you had dirt in your mouth mixed with blood from the previous fall, your whole body aching from his assault, but you wanted more; you wanted him to destroy you. 

Something hot and tight pushed into your entrance, and you almost mistook this sudden invasion for his balls until you felt your pussy being forced to stretch even further to accommodate it.

"Please, no! You're going to hurt me!!! Don't do this!" Pleasure was replaced by pure terror as you tried to crawl away from him. Sharp nails pierced the skin of your thighs as he clawed at you and growled in warning, making you freeze. 

"Take this! You're going to take all of me, and you're going to love it, you little slut." Each thrust felt like he was trying to shove a baseball inside you. 

He was determined to complete his task, and when he did, you screamed in pain, tears staining your rounded cheeks and making your face look even dirtier. A loud howl pierced his chest, and his nails dug into your back, drawing blood as he tied you up with his knot and poured his sperm into your waiting body. You could feel every pulse of his cock as it emptied into your pussy, and against your desire, your walls clenched around the invasion, squeezing out all he had to offer you. His warm, viscous cum splashed into your body, making you shiver.

"I hope you've learnt your lesson and won't wander the night woods alone again, little Red." The werewolf whispered hoarsely in your ear, licking the tears from your cheek. 

You turned your head to the side, meeting his slanted silver eyes and gloriously sharp cheekbones. 

"Maybe I should learn that lesson a few more times, San. You know I'm not good at memorising, love."

[lovifie]

Hi this is my first ever request lol, so I uh was wondering if you could write a soap x reader little red riding hood. It could be some cute fluff or I guess even smutty depending on how you'd want to depict it. Sorry if it's a rather blank request, I'm very bland when it comes to writing and such (>_<)

Hi love! Thank you so much for the request, I hope I met your expectations 🩷

It did turn really smutty though, so I hope you don't mind 🩷

Smut | 1818 words | Back to Masterlist

W: Werewolf!Soap x Little Red Riding Hood!Reader (inspired at least), smut, defined breeding kink must it's mostly a werewolf thing, biting, mentions of pregnancy (is the breeding kink warm up, you know), knoting.

You were used to being the one taking your grandma her food, making sure she still ate the produce she couldn't acquire in her house deep into the forest.

So every other week, you would do your little journey. It didn't take long, you'll get to her house before lunch time and you chose to stay the day with her before making your way back.

You already knew the path like the back of your hand, always on time and never getting lost.

There is also Johnny, a friendly neighbour who on many occasions chooses to walk along with you. The chat is nice, makes the walk more entertaining even when you go the different route that Johnny showed you; just because it is longer and that way you can talk for longer.

You obviously didn't trust him at first, a grown man in the middle of the forest sounds terrifying on its own. And you need to add to that the fact that Johnny is built like a brick house.

“I could have you for dinner.” He joked once when you asked him what did he ate to be so big. A silly joke.

The fear of the big man following you in the forest, quickly turned into the big man walking with you. And the little fear you had of the wild dissipated the closer he walked with you.

Especially, when during the spring rumours started flying around about a massive wolf living in the forest. Apparently a huge striped dog has been seen walking on the forest line for a couple of weeks now, always looking into the town but never quite entering.

The dog, big enough to be the size of a grown man on his hinged legs, eyes that reflect the light of the fire and teeth to rip the flesh off the bone.

Your grandma moved out of her house, moving inside town to be away from the animal. Still, you couldn't sleep at night knowing Johnny was out there.

With your grandma living in your house, you didn't have an excuse to walk in the forest. But still, on a freezing morning in the middle of spring you found yourself walking inside the forest wishing you could come across Johnny quickly and be back home.

What you come across instead, is a growling behind you. So deep you feel it shaking your bones before you can see it. You only need to see the outline of the monster before you are sprinting for your life, it is a stupid decision and you know it. It immediately triggers the beast to follow you.

The path to your grandma's house has never been so long and you don't even make half way through before you fall, tripping on your own feet. You turn around, looking for the dog which seems to have evaporated into thin air.

A warm hand on your back makes you jump, turning around and coming face to face with Johnny, a pained expression on his face. You jump into his arms, a groan into your ear as he hugs you back, a bit too hard.

You peel back when he cups your face. “You shouldn't be here, bonnie.” He says, looking in pain, making every alarm bell ring on your head.

You pat his body, looking for any injury and hearing him groan whenever your hand touches his body. “Are you in pain? Did it attack you? Are you fine?” You ask frantically.

“Lass!” He grunts, making you look into his eyes, dark when you lay your eyes on his. “You need to get back! Get away from me!”

“But why?” You ask, hurt with the rejection. “I came here just for you, Johnny…”

He groans, looking away from your face as he licks his lips. He sighs, resting his forehead against yours. “You need to go back because every part of my body is screaming at me to eat you whole, bonnie.”

“You can.” It comes out before you can register it, you are not a stranger to your own feelings for the man in front of you. The weekly walks, your hand on his arm, his hand on your back, the soft pecks on your cheek when saying goodbye. It quickly had you getting home warm on the face and your tummy.

The man groans again, closing his eyes, as if your words hurt him. “You don't know what you are saying-”

“I do! I do know!” You argue, cutting him off and sitting up closer to him but his arms pull you back. He looks down on you, searching for any doubt in your face. Anything that could silence the hungry voice in his brain, but when the only thing he can find is the same hunger in yours he laps forward, crushing his lips on yours.

He is not gentle by any means, his wide hands roam your body pulling you closer, grabbing your body, winking his nails into your flush meat, biting your lips, growling on your mouth. His hands scrunch up your dress, ripping the bloomers under it making you gasp at the feeling of the cold air on your core.

“I can fucking smell you, bonnie. And it's driving me mad. You have been driving me mad for months.” He grunts against your mouth, grabbing your hips to sit you on top of his.

You whine at his words. “I want to feel you, Johnny. I want to feel you here.” You say, grabbing one of his hands to place it on top of your crying cunt.

Johnny takes a deep breath, regulating himself, before he sinks two of his fingers inside of you; the stretch making you mewl against Johnny's neck, moaning softly as he starts to move his wrist.

You can feel him grind his hips against your, the material of his trousers rubbing against your exposed clit making you whine and he quickly shushes you kissing your temple as his fingers open you up for him.

“I can't wait to sink into you, my sweet bonnie.” He groans at you, making you clench at the sound.

He pulls his fingers out, bringing them to his mouth and licking them clean, closing his eyes as he hums at the taste. His pupils impossibly wide when he opens them again, the blue on his eyes barely visible.

He helps you onto your hand and knees, standing behind you as he licks your neck from behind, his tip probing at your entrance. You don't have a chance to peek at his shaft, so you don't expect the wide stretch that just simply seems to never end.

Never in your life has you felt this full, the stretch of his fingers far from enough and it has you falling face first with his hands on your hips.

He grunts when he bottoms out inside of you, bending down to lick the tears on your cheeks. “Shh, bonnie lass. You are taking me so well, I could live right here. So tight, so warm, so wet “ he moans, pulling his hips slightly back making you whine as you clench down making him grunt.

It's too much, it is reaching places you were not aware existed; his wide hands on your hips keeping you in place, it has your brain mushy barely able to put your hands under your face to prevent yourself from eating dirt.

His thrust starts to get deeper, slowly pulling out until only his tip is inside just to push in again just as deliciously slow as the first one. It is torturous how slow he fills you up, the empty feeling when he pulls back making you whine and move your hips back.

He pulls himself back, not wanting to give in to his instincts just yet, needing to know you are ready. The way your cunts sucks him in whenever he pulls back making him grunt; he hears you moan his name, asking for more, and that is everything he needs to hear.

He bends down, hugging your middle as he shoves his face on your neck, keeping you in place to be able to piston his dick in and out of your weeping cunt as fast as his hips allow him.

It pulls the breath out of your lungs, only able to moan loud like a whore as the man on your back fucks you like a bitch in heat.

His arms are tight around your body, his grunts and groans loud on your ear and when his hand moves lower, right over your clit rubbing it, is like pushing the button to have you coming undone.

You cry out his name, eyes rolling back as you do, your cunt pulsing around his cock making him fuck you faster.

You don't have time to come back down, not stopping pleasure waving over you. Filth being talked into your brain. “I'm gonna fuck you full of my pups, love. Gonna keep you forever, full of me, love. Gonna make you a mama, round and plush.” He groans, his brain empty of any sense and only listening to his instincts of breeding, the spring making him completely lose his ability to think clearly.

Another round of stretch has you whining softly, you are already to the brim what is it now? You cry at the feeling, Johnny mouth opening over the junction of your neck and shoulder.

His thrust became sloppy, more shallow as if he couldn't move as freely. He bites down hard on your shoulder, making you whine at the pain but the way you clench down on his length as he grunting as he comes inside of you, his hips flush with yours.

You moan at the feeling, warmth feeling every bit of your inside. But after a while you try to pull, wanting to lay down. Just for a stinging sensation to make you cry and Johnny to grab your hips to prevent you from moving.

“Let's stay like this for a little, bonnie. We stuck.” He groans, as if it makes perfect sense.

“What?” You ask confused.

“Shh, I'll explain it to you later, love.” He says, licking your neck like a dog and caressing your body.

And you want to argue, to understand what he means, to understand what is inside of you opening you so widely, to understand why he was talking about pups, to understand why he bite your shoulder so hard, to understand why the wolf following you suddenly disappeared when he appeared, to understand why he told you to go away, to understand how he found you so easily.

But your eyelids start to weigh tons when Johnny hums behind you, kissing your neck. Plus, the spring is barely starting and Johnny's den is close by. He'll explain later, when his brain stops screaming at him to keep breeding you.

[sailoryooons]

Red | KNJ | (m)

☾ Pairing: Werewolf!Namjoon x f. reader

☾ Summary: For as long as you can remember, your village has been relatively normal. But when people begin to turn up dead right after a group of newcomers arrive, pieces of your past start to fall into place, and something feels familiar - particularly the quiet man who can't take his eyes off of you.

☾ Word Count: 21,148

☾ Genre: Supernatural, thriller, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Fantasy violence, light depections of murder and animal attacks, mentions of gore, discussions about community displacement and violence, Yoongi is an asshole, animal attacks, depictions of blood, tbh reader and Namjoon don’t know each other THAT well when they fuck so idk, implied protecting from a far but not in a stalker way, explicit language, intense sequences of fear and anxiety, reader is attacked by a wolf, there is a mention of animals being hurt/killed but not in explicit details, dead bodies, arson, sexually explicit content invluding vaginal fingering, nipple play, vaginal penetration, a little bit of mention of fluids but not really. 

☾ Published: Sunday, January 21 2024

☾ A/N: I wish I could explain to you how this got to be so long. I wrote it over several weeks and each day I picked it back up, I just kept adding dialogue and scenery and setting. Like half of this isn’t even Namjoon and reader reacting - what was I doing? I wish I knew! I hope you like my spin on Red Riding Hood anyway! I tried to do this in a way that it doesn’t seem creepy that Namjoon was silently looking out for reader but like… I could understand if someone finds it creepy I am so sorry lmfao.  I did read through this to edit but I 100% missed stuff because I'm a rougher editor and this is unbeta'd.

☾ A/N 2: This is a Red Riding Hood Retelling that is similar in vibe to the 2011 Red Riding Hood movie directed by Catherine Hardwicke.

 Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

| Masterlist | Ask | Make Me Your Villain Collab | Taglist

Father always said not to go into the woods at night. Like him, though, the woods have always called to you, feeling like a second home. You’ve never been able to explain it, and you’ve stopped trying to. 

It’s a little chilly outside, the first breath of harvest air nipping at your skin. In a few weeks, it will be freezing outside, forcing you into cloaks and furs. 

Grass crunches beneath your feet as you slip through the small yard and toward the tree line. Your house already sits at the edge of the village, the dark trees stretching high above the rooftops. Soon the trees will be dusted in snow, but for now, they sway gently in the autumn breeze, turned silver by the moonlight. 

You’ve always loved the woods. The sounds of the crickets singing and rabbits dashing underfoot are calming, the smell of sticky pine and fresh air invigorating. You especially love them at night, hidden beneath boughs and walking through the shafts of moonlight that slip through the trees. 

The best part is that you don’t feel so alone out here. There is a feeling you cannot place each time you enter the woods, like you’re a little closer to discovering yourself. You’ve been chasing that feeling since you were a little girl, hungry for finding whatever it is that drives you out here. 

Hands tucked into your pockets, you walk the same route you always follow. It isn’t deep into the woods - you aren’t silly enough to believe you’re safe alone in the dark - but it’s enough of a walk to clear your head. 

Howls echo up into the night, a wolf pack on their hunt. The sound of them makes the hair on your arms stand on end.

The wolves don’t come very close to the village anymore since the vicious wolf hunts when you were barely old enough to remember them. The relationship between the men of your home and the wolves in the wood is violent, a chill cooling your skin every time they’re mentioned by one of your neighbors. 

A terrible howl splits the night. You feel your body go cold with fear, warmth leaching out of you as you press yourself against a tree, heart in your throat. The sound is something like a howl laced with utter anguish, chilling you down to the marrow. It tapers off into a whimper before falling silent again. 

Pressed against the tree, you wait. Your heart is beating so harshly that it feels like you might vomit in fear. Soft whimpering drifts on the wind. You hold your breath and strain your ears. It almost sounds like an injured dog.

It tugs at your heartstrings. You bite your lip, weighing your options. The noise sounded like it came from the south a little off of your path and toward the ravine that splits the part of the woods that is relatively safe from the deeper part where the animals are more lethal and more frequent. You could easily find your way back if you made it to the ravine, and as the whimpering vanishes entirely, you can’t help but imagine an animal in pain. 

The most difficult part about working with Dr. Kim at the veterinary clinic is always the animals that he can’t fix. You’ve held the hands of loved ones who couldn’t save their aging dogs, and you’ve hushed lame horses as Dr. Kim prepared draughts to send them to sleep and then to death. 

Pivoting, you turn and march toward the initial sound. It may perhaps be the single worst idea you’ve ever had, but you suddenly don’t care. You’ve worked with Dr. Kim enough to know how to triage animal wounds, and the thought of leaving something alone and suffering replaces any sort of fear you originally had. 

You’re careful not to lose your footing as the ground slopes steadily as you get closer to the ravines and canyons of the south side. Leaves shift underneath your feet as you go. It feels overly loud in a forest that is suddenly so quiet, only filled with the softest sound of labored breathing.

A small dip in the ground catches you off guard. You gasp, a scream stuck in your throat as you lose your footing and slide down the slope, your back and ass hitting the ground hard as you slide, leaves hissing underneath you. You scramble to grab a hold of something, but the hill isn’t very high and you hit the bottom of it quickly.

Heart pounding, you lay in the damp leaves for a second, panting, hand pressed to your heart as it rattles under your palm. Just as the fear settles down, a growl makes your blood run cold. Slowly, you begin to turn your face toward the left. You realize you’ve slid down a dell, and a few yards from you is a large, shivering form covered in fur.

You blink. Once. Twice. You realize that the large mound of fur is a creature - a wolf. It lays on the ground shaking, a ride of jet black hair standing up on its spine, hackles raised. The wolf’s ears are pinned back and its yellow eyes are wild, nearly consumed by the dark pupils drinking you in. Its teeth are bared, foam and drool lining pink gums as it snares, nose twitching. 

It’s the biggest wolf you’ve ever seen. You can’t move. You can only stare at it, wondering why it continues to snarl and stare at you, but not move. Your eyes rove its trembling form from maw to tail, and you realize its front leg is wet and held at an odd angle.

“Oh,” you gasp, realizing that the wolf’s foot is stuck in a claw trap. “I’m so sorry. I… can I help you?”

The wolf stops growling for a moment as if it understands. You stare with wide eyes, not daring to move as it assesses you. It leans toward you and sniffs, the sound of snuffing loud in the silence of the dell. For a few moments, you just watch as the beast regards you. 

Then, it chuffs and looks at its own foot, whining. You sit up slowly in amazement. The creature watches you with what you can only describe as a caution. You get up carefully and make your way toward the wolf. It watches your every movement. It can surely smell your fear as you get a few feet away, crouching down with your hands held out to let it know you’re not going to cause harm. 

You pause, waiting for permission to examine the wolf’s foot. It gazes at you and for a moment, you lose yourself in that burning, golden gaze. The wolf’s eyes are so human that it’s hard to see it as a simple beast. There is something alive and intelligent there.

As if sensing that you’re waiting for the all-clear, the wolf chuffs and lowers its head toward its foot, gesturing. You smile a little at that, marveling at the communication skills. Carefully, you look at the trap around the wolf’s foot. It’s a metal contraption that is pressure-engaged, with metal teeth. You cringe seeing the red on matted fur and metal.

“You must have stepped on the pressure plate,” you tell the wolf, though it probably doesn’t understand. You gesture to the round plate at the center of the trap. “It would have been in a circle and when stepped on, snapped closed like jaws.”

The wolf whines and bows its head. You wince. “They’re really strong,” you admit, chewing on your lip. “I don’t think I can pull it apart all the way, but I might be able to open it enough just for a moment for you to pull out your leg. Can you do that?” 

A huff. Somehow, you think if it could, the wolf might roll its eyes. Your mouth twitches in an almost smile as you get onto your knees, wiping sweaty hands on your pants. This close to the beast, you realize just how large it is. 

“This is going to hurt,” you insist. “Please… Please don’t bite me, okay? I want to help you.” 

The wolf lowers its head until it's lying on the ground, gold eyes watching you. Its muscles are tense and the hair along the ridge of its back is still standing, afraid and alert. 

“Okay. I’m just… I’m just going to touch the trap and try to get a grip first, okay?” The wolf doesn’t answer. It blinks at you, waiting. Licking your lips, you whisper, more to yourself than anything, “Okay, I can do this.”

Slowly, you reach out toward the wolf’s injured foot. You flick your gaze over to the wolf looking for a reaction. It just watches you, though you feel tension. The metal is wicked cold to the touch. You hiss and the creature flinches a little, a whistle-whine escaping its nose. You mutter an apology, fingers pressing to the ridges of the cold metal. 

It’s slippery with blood. You chew on your lip, prodding your finger in the space between the metal teeth on the edges where it’s not clamped around the wolf’s paw. You wiggle your finger a little, testing the strength of the closed jaws of the trap. It doesn’t budge and you curse. 

Sweat beads on the back of your neck, freezing in the cool air. You lift your other hand, very carefully trying to find a good grip on either side of the jaws to pry them open. The movement jostles the trap a little, the wolf snarling in pain. You flinch and rip your hands away, looking at it. Gold eyes burn and the wolf huffs, as though telling you to be more careful.

“Sorry,” you mutter. “I’m nervous and it’s hard to get a grip on it.” The wolf snorts. You glare at it. “I’m sorry, do you want to do this instead?” Your only answer is a rumble as it looks the other direction. “That’s what I thought.”

Sighing, you turn your attention back to the metal. Anyone a little stronger and older could probably pull it open. Seokjin for sure could - even Hoseok who is as old as you are, but plenty stronger. You try not to think about how weak you are, and instead wiggle your fingers through the gaps in the teeth.

The cool metal stings your hands. It’s not a great grip and your fingers are placed in bad positioning due to the teeth of the trap. Taking in a big breath, you try to pull the metal jaws apart. 

Nothing happens and you let your breath out, panting lightly as you stop trying to pull. The wolf flicks its tale but makes no other sound. With the way you’re gripping the jaws, you realize that pulling it apart is going to be difficult. It would rely on your forearms to peel the metal jaws backward… But if you were to push down and push apart, you could use your body weight as an extra boost. It would be pushing the jaws apart from above instead of trying to pry them apart with sheer strength.

Leaning high on your knees, you position yourself straight over the trap, your weight settling in on your forearms. You take another deep breath and this time when you pull, you push your weight down on the trap. For a second, it seems like it’s not going to give. You hiss through your teeth, muscles clenching, fingers burning as your skin presses against the metal as hard as you can stand it.

Then, the jaw opens a little. You grind your teeth harder, the ache in your arms growing as you push as hard as you can. Your forearms are trembling. You feel the vein throbbing in your neck and forehead. Just when you think you’re going to fail, the jaws give way again. You growl, feeling a surge of energy go through you at the small victory and you shove your body weight down on it hard. The springs creak a little and open more.

Little by little, the trap opens up. Your vision pulses red as you pant, strength waning. And then it’s like you hit the let-off point of the contraption, pushing it enough that the rest of the way it just falls open. You let go of the trap and the wolf yanks its leg from it. It now lies open and bloody as you collapse on the ground next to it, breathing hard, breath misting the air. 

Your heart beats in your ears, pulse thrumming in your neck wildly. For a second, you forget all about the wolf. You laugh up to the dark trees, a giddy feeling shooting through you. You did it, even though you didn’t think you would be able to. 

A dark presence alerts you. Slowly, you turn your head to face the wolf. It’s standing almost above you, looking more imposing than it did before. You swallow hard, mouth going dry as it blinks down at you. It favors the injured leg, but stands nonetheless, watching you. 

“Please don’t kill me,” you whisper, limbs trembling not only with exhaustion but fear. 

The wolf doesn’t kill you at all. Instead, it leans its head down and presses its cold, wet nose to your arm. You flinch, squeezing your eyes shut for a minute. Then the beast chuffs, making you peak at it. When you meet its gold eyes, you get the sense it is vaguely amused.

“Oh,” you breathe, relief sagging your aching body. “Cool. You’re not going to kill me.”

Standing, you realize that the wolf is still taller than you. You tilt your head upward, staring. There’s no way this is a normal creature, but you don’t know what else it could possibly be. You recall the legends of werewolves and dire wolves told by the men of your town, but you’re unsure if those are real. 

“Let’s take care of this,” you mutter, grabbing a branch and jamming it into the pressure plate of the trap. It snaps shut with a loud clang, snapping the branch, but otherwise ineffective now that it’s re-sprung. The wolf flinches and whines at the sound, no doubt remembering the feeling of the instrument on its leg. “Sorry.” 

Silence stretches out over the woods, the night growing deeper and cooler. You shiver, rubbing your hands up and down your arms as you turn to the wolf, which watches you keenly. 

“Will you be okay?” the question comes out as a whisper. The wolf huffs and steps forward, pressing its snout to your head. It’s cold and wet, making you shiver as it snuffs against your skin. “Good. I um - should start climbing this hill.”

It swivels its head and turns, waiting. You grin, realizing it will accompany you back up, at least. Though injured, the wolf is able to walk with three legs, the wounded leg lifted off the ground. Its gait is awkward and hobbled, but the two of you make it up the hill together, your breathing labored. 

At the top, moonlight shines through the trees and you both pause. A series of howls goes up in the night, startling you. The wolf looks up, ears twitching as it tilts its head, listening. Slowly, it turns to look at you, gold eyes sparkling. 

“I guess you have to go, huh?” it bows its head once. “Stay safe, okay?” 

The wolf steps forward. Presses its muzzle into your temple and huffs, making you grin. You smell pine and bergamot, pleasant and calming. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” 

Slowly, the wolf clambours off, vanishing into the dark woods, leaving you to hurry home yourself. 

-

“Wear this at all times for protection, especially in the forest,” you murmur, holding the neatly scrawled note. You frown and look down at the fine cloak folded on the dresser. It had appeared overnight as if by magic, a funny feeling flipping your stomach. “Where did you come from?”

The cloak, of course, has no answer. You lift your hand to feel it, breathing out a dreamy sigh. The inside is lined with soft bear fur. Outside is some of the finest cloth you’ve ever seen, gentle but sturdy to the touch and dyed the most delicious shade of scarlet. 

Carefully, you lift the cloak. It’s a little big for your size, but not unwearable. You slip it over your sleeping gown, loving the way the material ripples like blood over your shoulders, the fur lining keeping you warm. It smells like pine and bergamot, making you pause. 

Certainly, a wolf did not bring you a cloak. Still, the timing is quite odd. You don’t know who else could possibly make a cloak so fine in the village, and the smell… you shake your head. A wolf did not bring you a cloak, but it did seem perhaps you had a secret admirer. 

-

THIRTEEN YEARS LATER

“Boo!” You scream and drop the collection of logs in your hands, whirling around. Hoseok bursts into laughter, doubling over as he slaps his hands against his knees, hot breath misting the air. “You should see your face!”

“You rotten bastard!” You growl, picking up a log and throwing it at him. It doesn’t hit him, but he jumps away from it anyway, careful not to let it drop on his toes. “That isn’t funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

“It’s not!” You crouch down and start picking up the timber. Hoseok at least has the decency to help you, starting with the log you threw at him. “There was another animal attack last night, in case you didn’t know.” 

That makes him pause. “There was?”

“Yes,” you hiss, snatching the last log and standing. “So stop lurking around corners and scaring me. It isn’t funny.” 

“Well, an animal isn’t going to attack you in the village. Unless you’re talking about Mingyu’s fiancee, anyway. That one is feral indeed.” 

You level Hoseok with a look and he gives you a grin. His nose and ears are red from the cold - and maybe a little guilt for scaring you - and he offers to take the timber from your arms. You let him, shoveling it over to him and marching around the front of your house. 

Wind howls between the houses, ripping at the ends of your red cloak. It catches your hood, throwing it up over your head as you shiver and tuck your hands into the fur lining. A shiver rattles up your spine as you kick the snow from your boots and rush inside, Hoseok quick on your heels. 

“So what happened?” Hoseok asks, following you to your room. 

“The Matheson Family,” you mumble. “They were attacked. San went down to collect new saddles his father ordered and found them slaughtered - their hounds too.” 

“They have hunting hounds - what the hell can kill those?”

“Perhaps it’s the wolves again. Dr. Kim was going with the city council to investigate.” 

Hoseok sighs. “The timing isn’t good. It’s about time the traders arrived. What if they bypass us entirely if the road is too dangerous?”

It’s a thought that has been plaguing everyone in the village. Because of the remote location on the north side of the woods, your small spec on the map relies on traders at the beginning of every winter for things that you’ll need to make it through: salt, extra grain and fruits, tools too advanced and large for the local smithy, repairs on houses and wagons. 

Arrival times of traders fluctuate every year. Sometimes there’s a cold snap, burying roads in heavy snow that are unnavigable. Other times, there is unrest in the woods when a rogue band of thieves gets the idea to rob travelers and hide in the woods until the city council sends a team of men to deal with it. 

Now, though, it’s getting into the late period of their arrival. The entire village holds its breath waiting for them, people looking out the open gates down the snowy road hoping to see a courier come ahead to announce the arrival of wagons and troupes of people. 

“Do you really think it’s wolves?” Hoseok asks. “I don’t think I’ve heard of wolf attacks like this since…” 

Hoseok winces. “It’s fine,” you assure him with a smile. “It’s not like I remember that time, much less remember my dad.” 

It’s true. Early memories of your childhood are murky at best. You remember being happy and loving your dad. You remember a period of fear and general uneasiness in the town, wolf attacks rampant and frequent. There had been plenty of men and women who died during that period, including your father.

That was a long time ago, though. For the most part, life in your small village is uninteresting. Some winters are harder than others, like the current season, but you’ve always managed to get by. 

“Do you remember much of that time period?” you ask him quietly. 

“Not really. Just that everyone was afraid. It was a really harsh winter and it drove wolves down from the mountains. I remember it being strange.”

“Strange how?” 

You chew your lip and shake your head, trying to encapsulate the thread of memory you have. Of feeling the tremor of fear in the air, the cold feeling of dread… like something violent was in the village. Something wrong.

“I don’t know. I was so young.”

“Hmm.” 

The talk of wolves makes you think about your wolf. Your lips curve at the memory of how gentle the wolf was, the somber eyes, and the smell of pine and bergamot. 

It would be a lie to say you had not gone out to the woods several times since that night to try and find the beast again. You haven’t seen him since, but you’ve always had a feeling he’s there somewhere. Watching. Waiting. 

“Either way,” Hoseok sighs. “Dad seems worried this winter will be like that time. He’s been doing a lot of will and testament papers at the office. He works late every night and is gone early in the morning.” 

“Really?”

“Want to hear what Mr. Hillshire is leaving for his kids?” Hoseok leans forward, conspiratorial. “You won’t believe it.” 

-

The bell over the door rings as someone enters the salon of Dr. Kim’s veterinary practice, drawing your attention. You straighten when you see San walk in.

“Hi, San,” you greet. “Here to pick up Maple?” 

“Yeah, is that alright? Mom is busy at the shop.” 

“Of course.” You wipe your sweaty hands on your skirts and gesture behind you with your thumb. “I’ll go fetch her. Dr. Kim is on an errand but she’s ready to go.” 

The back of the building with the kennels is quiet. The Choi family cat and two other sleeping dogs are the only occupants of the practice, making it an easy day. Maple is dozing in her kennel, chirping in protest when you open the cage and scoop her into a carrier. She’s a lazy thing, a calico with pretty eyes and a newly stitched ear. 

Carefully you carry her up front. San is standing patiently in the lobby, hands behind his back as he looks around nervously. You raise your brows as you come around the counter, handing over the carrier. “Everything okay?”

“Hmm?”

“You look nervous. It’s just me and the Lowells’ hounds back here.” 

“Oh, yes.” His ears blush pink as he accepts the carrier and steps back. “Just a nervous energy in general. I have been since um…”

Oh. You had forgotten that it was San who discovered the Matheson family disemboweled by some kind of animal. The constable had thought that maybe it was a pack of wolves but was concerned by how big the claw marks and destruction were. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurt.

“For what?”

“That you had to see that, I guess? It must have been terrifying.”

“A little,” he admits, looking at his shoes. “I walked the path to the Mathesons all the time. I don’t ever recall seeing something that could… do that.”

“Was it that awful?” 

He nods. “Like nothing I’ve ever seen. Don’t get me wrong, I go on hunting parties. We’ve seen the leftovers from bears and wolves. This was something worse. It felt like…” He shakes his head and looks up at you. “It felt angry.”

“Angry?”

“Yeah. I know that doesn’t make sense. It was probably just a beast coming down from the mountain because it was starving. You know how harsh winters are.” 

You hum in agreement. 

San dismisses himself, thanking you again for helping with the family cat and throwing a wave over his shoulder. You return it half-heartedly, already distracted with thoughts of what the animal attacks could mean.

You think about your wolf and how kind and intelligent it was. You don’t remember ever feeling a sense of impending doom like you do now, a heaviness to the air as you stand idly behind the counter. 

Dr. Kim's return startles you at the counter. You press your hands flat against the top of the desk, leaning up on your tiptoes as you see his son Seokjin enter behind him. Your heart flutters a little at the sight, still overwhelmed by his handsome face. 

Seokjin is tall and broad, with dark hair and a beautiful face. His sharp eyes find you and he gives you a half smile, though there seems to be something on his mind as he follows his father into the backroom, Dr. Kim barely saying hello as he goes, his brows furrowed in deep thought.

The two of them disappear and you watch the door swing shut behind them. Curious, you trail around the counter and softly walk over to the door, pulling it open a smidge.

It’s difficult to pick up on their words, but you can hear Dr. Kim’s timbre speaking in low tones from somewhere in the backroom. You hold your breath and wedge the door open a little more, pressing your ear toward the gap between the frame and the door. 

“... again. They’re going to want to start hunting parties again soon.”

“So what do we do?”

Silence. Then, “Send a message….”

“... brought it on themselves… it’s time to make things right.” 

Behind you, the bell rings at the door. You gasp, letting go of the door to the back room and spin around, heart hammering in your chest. Hoseok stands at the door, raising his brows in question. 

“What are you doing here?” you demand, suddenly angry that he’s startled you and ruined your sleuthing.

“I promised your mom I would walk home with you at the end of your shift, remember? Dangerous out there.” 

You blink and look out the window, realizing that the heavy gray of evening is setting over the road. You hadn’t realized it was so late. 

Nodding, you grab your cloak in a hurry. You pop your head into the back room, both Seokjin and Dr. Kim looking at you as you do. “I’m leaving for the evening, sir. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you for watching the place while I was gone. Tomorrow we have to make a house call to the Marrow farm. Lame horse.”

Seokjin frowns. “Do you think that is wise?” Dr. Kim looks at his son under heavy brows. “With the current conditions.” 

“We’ll be fine.” Something passes between them, son and father locked in a heated gaze. You stand there awkwardly, glancing between the two.

Seokjin breaks his stare from his father and flashes you a grin. “You have someone to walk you home?”

“Yeah, Hoseok is here.” You hug the cloak tighter to your chest and Seokjin’s eyes drop to it. An unreadable expression passes his face before he nods. “Have a good evening!”

“You too.”

Leaving them behind, you head to where Hoseok waits for you, examining drawings of animal skeletons and anatomy. You pull your cloak on, feeling safe and warm under the red material. Hoseok looks up at you, thrusting his thumb at one of the drawings of a horse. “I don’t look like that, right?” 

-

The red cloak tied around you wicks the sweat from the back of your neck. Your fingers work quickly as you tie it, knowing you’re already late to meeting Dr. Kim. Thankfully, you don’t make a habit of being late and you’re sure he won’t mind too much.

Strange dreams had plagued you all night. Images of wolves, blood and mist. Echoes of howling, screaming and thunder. Now as you hurry out of your home and into the wicked wind of winter, you cannot shake a sense of premonition.

Dr. Kim is already on the doorstep when you arrive at the veterinary office, a heavy coat on his shoulders and a bag of tools in his hand. He nods when he sees you and comes down the steps, turning toward the south exit of the village. 

Neither of you speak. Beyond the fact that you don’t think you’d be able to hear Dr. Kim over the howling wind, it doesn’t feel like the kind of trip that requires speaking. The evergreens on either side of the road loom over you, bows heavy with snow. Every so often, a branch cracks with the weight of frozen icicles, making you flinch with the sound.

It feels like you’re being watched. Every so often, you swivel your head this way and that, glancing at the trees. The trunks are too close together and the branches to tangle to see beyond them on either side of the road. Still, your skin tingles from something beyond the cold, you just don’t know what. 

The Marrow farm is only a little over a mile from the main village, but the snow covered roads make it slow going. As you near the edge of where their acres begin, your boots are already heavy with melted slush and your calves and thighs burn from dragging your feet through the path. 

Perhaps it was not a good day to do a house call. 

Passing white-covered gates, you’re thankful that at least the wind has died down as the morning turns into midday. The sun is hidden by clouds, but there is a hint of warmth in the air. The Marrow farm is made up of three buildings: the small house in front, the large barn to the back left where they keep their animals, and a giant silo for grains. 

As you near the house, a loud banging reaches you. Both you and Dr. Kim pause, listening as the sound carries on the wind. It doesn’t sound like hammering, but rather like a door slamming over and over again. 

“Barn door?” you suggest, looking up at Dr. Kim. His dark eyes look at the house, expression grim. “But why would they let it slam relentlessly?” 

“Keep your wits about you,” he murmurs, ignoring your question. “Go to the main house. I’ll go round to the barn. Perhaps they’ve forgotten the appointment.”

No smoke comes from the chimney. No snow is cleared from the footpath to the door. The shutters are closed, which makes sense to keep the cold out. As you approach the steps leading up to the porch, you note that none of the hounds are baying. The Marrow’s have several bloodhounds, all of which keep noisy providence around the threshold of the door. 

Spine tingling, you lift your hand and knock. There’s no answer. You strain your ears, leaning forward for any hint that the Marrow’s or one of their two sons are coming to the door. Not even the dogs alert them of your presence. 

You think about San finding the Mathesons butchered and your stomach drops. You knock again, knuckles stinging with cold as they rap harshly against the wooden door. Tucking your hand back into your cloak, you wait. 

Nothing comes. 

Taking a deep breath, you reach for the door and twist the handle. It opens easily, swinging inward to a cold, empty home. Inside, the air is still and dead. Behind you, the breeze brushes the edges of your cloak and the hood on your head. 

Silence hangs. Licking your lips, you lift a foot. It hands over the threshold, fear making you pause. There is nothing inside the home, and yet you find that you’re utterly terrified of stepping inside. Your stomach knots and for a few moments, you just stand there with your foot in the air, staring with unseeing eyes into the dark interior. 

You step into the room and pause. Nothing happens. The air inside the home is stale, like the doors and windows have not been opened for a few days. The cold is bone deep, clinging to the undisturbed air. You scan the room for any sign of life, but see nothing that stirs. 

Everything looks lived in. There are knitted blankets tossed across the backs of old arm chairs, boots by the door, unlaced and soft with age. Mugs have been turned upside down and placed on a towel near the basin for drying, and there are dice on the kitchen table. 

Navigating slowly, you move to the hall with bedrooms. Doors hang open, revealing unmade beds and clothes on the floor. Here too, the air feels undisturbed. You hear the breeze outside and the soft creak of the house, but nothing else makes a sound, save for the loud beating of your own heart. 

Shivering, you make your way to the front of the home. Something foul hangs in the air and you want to be rid of the feeling, quickening your steps to leave through the front door and-

Fear stabs deep into your stomach when you see the wolf standing in the doorway. It stands half in the home, half out, only the front two paws over the threshold. The beast barely fits in the door frame, wide as two men standing side by side and tall as a horse. 

You don’t move. It stares at you with bright, burning eyes. Its fur is dark, though there is a jagged ring of light fur around the right, front paw. You swear you smell pine and bergamot. Something nudges at the back of your mind as the two of you stand off - and it clicks into place.

“You,” you breathe. “You’re the wolf I helped!” 

For a moment, the bright yellow eyes stare at you. They’re unreadable, and yet… emotive. Intelligent. Understanding. The wolf dips its snout in a nod. 

“What are you doing here? Where are the Marrows?” 

The wolf’s ears flicker. Slowly, it backs out of the house. Throwing caution to the wind, you rush after him, nearly tripping over a wolfskin rug in the home.

Outside, the wolf stands below the porch. You step on the porch and pull up short, heart racing as you see the pack of wolves standing in front of the home.

The wolves are a variety of colors and sizes. You dare not move your head, but you scan them with your eyes, drinking in the different creatures. The only thing that they have in common is that they are freakishly large. 

Your wolf - for in your mind he’s yours - stands in front of you. He growls, hair on his spine raising as he regards the other wolves. There’s a silent standoff of sorts, the wolf you saved facing the others. You cannot understand their body language, but the air seems charged. 

The smell of smoke is in the air. You don’t dare look for the source, too afraid to do anything to disrupt the standoff. Breathing in deeply, you think you smell cedar. Oil. Something else that you can’t identify. 

Footsteps crunch the snow. You whip your head to the side, a warning on your tongue as Dr. Kim rounds the house, a haunted expression on his face. He stops abruptly, looking at the display in front of him behind frosted glasses. He says nothing - does nothing but glance between you, the wolf in front of you, and the others. 

Finally, one of the other wolves chuffs and shakes, dispelling snow. It has an all white coat and intense, dark eyes that look at you with… annoyance, if wolves can look annoyed. It turns to leave and the others follow - all five of them - as the white wolf leads them at a loping trot toward the silo and the woods beyond.

Your wolf turns to peer at you, ears flicking before it breaks off into a run, trailing after its pack to leave you and Dr. Kim standing in silence, watching them go. 

Slowly, you turn to Dr. Kim. He scrutinizes you, eyes squinted. “Where did you get that cloak?” 

You look down at the rich, red cloth. “I… well it just appeared, one day when I was younger. I don’t know.”

He regards you suspiciously. “I see. Come. We must leave right away.”

Dr. Kim begins walking at a fast pace back toward town, clutching his tool case. “Wait! Where are the Morrows?” 

Instead of answering, Dr. Kim continues on. You scramble after him, careful not to slip on the icy stairs. The wind picks up and you smell a fire again, making you turn back as you try to catch up. You almost stumble over your feet, eyebrows shooting up as you see orange flames consuming the barn. 

“Dr. Kim!”

Again, he says nothing. You stop and stare, watching as the fire eats away at the barn. The smoke burns black. Fueled by oil, you think. Looking over your shoulder, you watch Dr. Kim’s retreating back and wonder what exactly it is that he’s done. 

“Did you set that fire?” you demand, chasing him. He gives you a withering look. “What is going on?”

“Speak nothing of this,” he snaps. “We arrived here to make a housecall and discovered that the barn was on fire. We suspect that Mr. Marrow was burning to melt the snow around the barn and that the barn caught. The Marrow family died inside trying to put out the fire.”

“But the wolves-”

“Do not mention the wolves, girl.”

“Did they kill the Marrows?” His jaw works but he doesn’t answer. “Did they kill the Mathesons?” 

“This village has a complicated history,” he says finally. He pulls his coat tighter. “I don’t expect you to understand, but I do expect you to stay out of it. Say nothing of the wolves and stay away from them. You’ll make it through winter.”

-

Two weeks pass, the secret heavy on your tongue. You work with Dr. Kim as though nothing happened, and when people ask about the Marrow farm, you recite vague details. You don’t know why you do it but… the image of the wolf - your wolf - floats in your mind each time you spit out the lie. 

Thoughts plague you as Hoseok lounges on the porch of the office that belongs to Hoseok’s father, who acts as the town’s scribe and legal affairs recorder. A sudden warm day has brought everyone outdoors, lounging on their porches and trying to take advantage of the melting snow around the buildings. The streets are muddy and murky as kids run by, feet splashing. 

A group of men prowl around the outskirts of the village. Sun shines through the slats of the overhang in front of the inn, warming where you lean on the porch railing. Hoseok rattles on about gossip he’s heard from his mother’s tea parties and his father’s work on will and testaments with the growing fear of death in the village. 

“Plagues, serial killings, blood feuds and animal attacks,” Hoseok sighs, staring up at the ceiling where he lies. “Good for father’s business. Bad for my cramping hand trying to help him.” 

“Hmm,” you hum noncommittally, thoughts lost as you stare out into the street with unseeing eyes.

Shouts make you flinch. You stand rod straight, gripping the railing as you look for the source of the disruption. Hoseok stands up immediately, joining you at the railing as the pair of you lean to look toward the entrance to the town. 

At first, you think that it’s about another wolf attack. People rush into the street, looking toward the commotion. Then you see it. Gleeful cheers spring up to the buildings closest to the town’s entrance as the first few traders enter the road. Your heart soars when you see donkeys pulling a cart behind them, followed by more people carrying packs and towing small carts. 

“The traders!” You breathe, feeling a sigh of relief sweep through you. “They’ve made it!” 

Excitement ripples through the village. People come flocking from the buildings to welcome cart after cart full of people. Some traders tow full carriages with riders at the front, the shutters on their carriages tied shut, hiding their wares inside. 

Hoseok lounges back down, letting out a sigh of relief. You feel the same, leaning on the railing again to watch as the carts are towed down the road, pulling down different streets to set up shop and find accommodations. 

Most of the traders look vaguely familiar to you - you see the Robin’s with their cloth cart and Morty with his towering carriage of unusual wares and charms. The Yang twins set off small, popping fireworks from the back of their cart, making the children squeal. 

Something catches your eye. “There are more traders than usual,” you tell Hoseok, frowning as your eyes settle on the large men who walk among the carts, all of whom wear weapons belts and look from side to side as they walk. “I think they’re warriors, Hoseok.”

“Warriors?” he laughs. “Strange.”

“No really, there are several men with blades at the hip and bows on the back. They look… guarded.”

He tilts his head, eyeing where your eyes flit from person to person. “Perhaps the road is as hard as we suspected this year.” 

You hum in agreement, watching as the caravans stop and unload, the muddy streets filling with people and chatter and bubbling with excitement. It feels like the bubble of anxiety looming over the town has popped - at least temporarily - relieving the pressure that had been building with every passing day. 

Leaning against the rail, you’re content to observe. All manner of people and things are pulled from carts. Vendors start setting up right away, people forming lines for ingredients, cloth, and wares. The largest line of all is for weapons and metal tools, Old Man Heo barely has time to park his cart before the men of the village ask how much for iron arrowheads and blades. 

A shiver goes through you as your eyes sweep back toward the town entrance where more people pour in. Fewer caravans come through - now it’s just people with pack mules or bags over their shoulders. 

The hairs on your arm stand up when you see him. Wind lifts the edge of your cloak, making it flutter around you. You watch as he walks down the main street with the other travelers, eyes flicking around as he drinks in the buildings and the crowd of villagers coming to welcome the traders. 

As though he senses your staring, his head snaps to you. You feel frozen to the spot, your fingers tightening on the rail as you meet his eyes. They’re unfathomably dark and yet… a tingle of familiarity slithers up your spine. 

He stares at you in turn. You’re sure he’s looking at you, paused near the cart he stands next to, dark gaze focused on where you stand on the porch. 

You’ve never seen him.  You’re sure of it. You’d remember a handsome face like that anywhere. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face, revealing a sharp jawline, a strong nose, and intense eyes. His lips are red from the cold - pretty against tan skin.

He’s tall. Taller than most men in the village and broad, with strong shoulders and thick arms, though it’s hard to tell underneath his tunic. Like the other hardy men accompanying traders, he has a weapons belt snug around his waist and the bulk of his frame implies that he knows how to use them. 

The man doesn’t break eye contact. His mouth begins to tilt in what you think might be the start of a smile when Hoseok sits up abruptly, startling you. You break eye contact, looking at Hoseok who bites into an apple, offering you one. 

“You frightened me,” you snap, a little irritated at being distracted. When you glance back up at the man, his attention is elsewhere. 

“What were you staring at anyway?” he asks, crunching bits of apple. 

“Nothing,” you murmur, eyes on the flexing back of the man as he helps unload a wagon near the inn. Something niggles at the back of your mind. I know you. “Nothing at all.” 

“Want to visit the vendors later when they’re all set up? I would love to get some spiced wine and listen to Marla’s stories tonight.”

“Yes,” you answer without hesitation. “Let’s do just that.” 

-

Every minute that passes by feels like an eternity. Incurable energy simmers under the surface as you wait for the day to fade to evening. You clean the entire house, you collect wood from outside, you dress and then change into something else, and you ultimately end up pacing back and forth in your room while you wait for Hoseok to arrive. 

Your thoughts are consumed by the mystery man you had seen earlier. His handsome face swims in your memory. The clear image of his face is accompanied by some feeling you cannot identify, something that almost feels like nostalgia. How can you feel nostalgia for someone you don’t know? 

Hoseok finally arrives, letting himself into your house cheerily. The brief respite from winter is already bleeding away, the wind carrying a painful promise as it lifts your hood outside. The traders, it seems, arrived at the perfect time, the cloudy sky promising snow in the morning once more. 

Energy sizzles in the air. It’s as though the momentary fear of the wolf attacks is momentarily forgotten with the arrival of the vendors and travelers. The noise echoes from every street, torches, and fires lighting up the alleyways and down as people hang lamps in the windows and carts string up tea lights. 

Though you’re nervous, you are temporarily distracted as Hoseok pulls you through a tangle of carts toward Sal’s Sweets. Your stomach grumbles when you catch the scent of melting sugar and sweet confections, joining the line at Hoseok’s side to pick up hot, sticky sweets. 

With hot, sweet rolls drizzled in honey in hand, you and Hoseok explore the vendor carts. It is an explosion of color and lights, glittering jewelry hanging from displays, hot meats sizzling in pants over fires, the flash of powder and light as the Yang twins set off more fireworks, and the smell of spices as you pass by herb carts and tents. 

Everywhere you go, you see the men from before, looming near carts with weapons and steely expressions. But not even the eerie sight of them can bring down the spirits of the villagers, kids running with new kites and jars full of fireflies. 

As you stand in line with Hoseok who wants new inkwells, you listen to passing chatter. From what you gather, it was a hard trip this way on the caravans this year. The winter was just as harsh on the road as it was in the village, and the traders' voices become quiet when they talk about thieves and monsters in the woods.

You exchange a glance with Hoseok and he nods. Wolves. 

Wordlessly, you wait as Hoseok points out the inks that he wants. You begin to crane your neck, looking for the familiar stranger that you had seen before. The square is crowded and packed tight with people, making it nearly impossible to make out much beyond a few feet in front of you.

You spot Dr. Kim walking next to Seokjin, both of their heads bowed as they speak to one another. You narrow your eyes, remembering the way Dr. Kim had silenced you at the Marrow farm. You watch them as they head toward the road that the veterinary practice is on, pausing as a man pushes off the wall to join them.

It’s him you realize. You recognize the broad shoulders and the dark hair as he turns his back to you, walking with the Kims down the road. You don’t even have to think twice.

“Hey,” you tug Hoseok’s sleeve. “I’m going to go see Dr. Kim about something really quick. I’ll meet you at the inn?”

“Sure.” He frowns. “Is it safe to go alone?”

“With all of these people?” You’re already backing away and shrugging. “Definitely.” 

Without waiting for Hoseok to respond, you turn on your heel and rush into the crowd. The bodies of people immediately swallow you. The sound and sights and smells become a blur as you push through the crowd, shouldering people aside. You get some nasty looks from the force at which you move, but they immediately forget you as more people press in.

Less people pass you by as you walk up the street, pulling your cloak in tight. The lights in front of the building are off. You creep up the stairs and try the handle, finding it locked. It doesn’t matter, you sneak around the back of the building to the rear entrance and press your ear to the door. When you hear nothing, you try the handle and it twists.

Victorious, you open the door and slide through. The hallway is narrow with four doors on the right leading to examination rooms and two doors on the left. The first door leads to the kennel area where you hear voices. The second leads to the front lobby and desk.

The front lobby is the safest option, lest you get caught eavesdropping in the hallway when they leave. Carefully, you creep by the door, holding your breath and praying the floor doesn’t creak. Your heart pounds as you inch past the door, hearing deep voices on the other side as you go by. 

Clearing the door, you hurry into the lobby and to the door behind the desk that leads to the kennels. Crouching down low to hide yourself from anyone walking by the windows, you carefully pull the door open, unwilling to open it any further than the width of your index finger. Pressing your ear to the open gap, you listen.

“We talked about discretion,” Dr. Kim says, his voice frustrated. “This isn’t discretion. This is harassment and fear-mongering.”

“I told you,” a deep, smooth voice answers. You assume it must belong to the stranger and you shiver, eyes fluttering as the sound of it washes over you. “It isn’t my decision to make. I do not lead. Yoongi made it very clear how he wishes to proceed.” 

“Yoongi is a lunatic.”

“He’s the alpha.”

You frown. Alpha? You’re familiar with the concept of alphas in packs of dogs and herding animals, but you don’t know what that has to do with people or who Yoongi is. 

“The hunts will begin tomorrow.”

You think Dr. Kim means the hunting for the wolves. It makes sense now that the traders are in town and they can stock up on weapons. 

“As is the way of things,” the stranger answers with a sigh. “You know why Yoongi has chosen this path.”

“Is revenge worth it?”

“Perhaps your kind do not understand.” The stranger’s voice hardens. You wonder what he means by your kind. “You have one foot in the forest, one in the village.” 

“We understand, but we’re also not reckless.” Charged quiet hangs in the air. You hold your breath, your heart thundering in your chest, waiting for the sound of footsteps at the end of a conversation. “Why are you here, Namjoon? You came alone.”

Namjoon. The name washes over you, a warm feeling like the first spray of summer rain. It must be the stranger's name. 

Namjoon answers, “There is… a protected here. But I still fear for them. Yoongi and the others are angry - I wish to further keep them from harm.”

A frown twists your mouth. This Namjoon is here to protect someone from Yoongi. You wonder what this has to do with Dr. Kim. Could… Perhaps someone is using the wolves as tools? You’ve certainly seen a hunter train wolves or wolfhounds before, though it’s a dangerous business. 

Dr. Kim sighs. “That is the only saving grace of you being here, I’m afraid. Seokjin and I cannot help you. Not without exposing ourselves. I’ve already done what I can.”

“You have my greatest thanks for that. You and yours will always be safe. And not just because of your blood.”

Shuffling makes you lean away from the door immediately. You slowly drop it back in place before crawling over to the desk and hiding under it, straining your hearing as the footsteps go into the back hall and out of the back door. You remain there long after you hear the back door shut, waiting just in case they’re still outside.

When you’re sure they’ve gone, you crawl out from underneath the desk and hurry into the hall and out the back door. The alley is empty when you stick your head out, sagging with relief. You hurry out and close the door behind you, spinning around and-

“You know, most people who don’t want to be seen don’t sneak around in a red cloak.”

The man - Namjoon - looms over you, looking down at you with an amused expression. Your scream is cut off when he winces and cups your mouth with his hand. “Well don’t scream! You’ll summon Giho and Seokjin back this way. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

Namjoon waits for a moment, your chest heaving as you nod, signifying that you won’t scream for help. Maybe it’s silly, but you trust him not to hurt you. At the least, he is there to protect someone in the village, so he doesn’t seem like he’s there for nefarious reasons.

When he drops his hands, you press yourself against the door, trying to put a little distance between you. Namjoon’s presence is demanding, a tickle prickling at the base of your spine as you look up at him, mystified. 

He’s so beautiful. Up close, you can make out his features far better than earlier that day. His eyes are dark and framed by beautiful, silken lashes. His nose is broad and his jaw is sharp. A dimple appears when he gives you a lopsided grin, dark eyes sizing you up.

The same sense of familiarity from earlier comes back to you, and though you’ve never seen his face before, you swear you know him. Warmth radiates from him, the delicate smell of pine and bergamot reaching you. He feels like… yours. Like some part of him completes you. It is the strangest feeling. 

“You okay, Red?” he asks, tone earnest. You furrow your brows at the term and he grins - genuine and warm. “Your cloak. It’s a very bright red. Pretty, though.”

“Thank you?”

He raises a brow. “Are you asking me?”

“I’m… you’re awfully close.”

Namjoon takes a few steps back from you. You suddenly regret saying something as his warmth vanishes, replaced by the cool wind. “Sorry,” he says, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. “Didn’t mean to freak you out.”

“Why didn’t you alert Dr. Kim if you knew I was snooping.”

“You don’t seem to be a threat. Plus, he’s a bit of a grouch. It didn’t seem worth it to hear him chastise a pretty girl.”

You flush. “How do you know the Kims?”

“Family friends.” 

“What were you all talking about?”

He cocks his head to the side. “Just because I’m not chastising you for listening to our private conversation doesn’t mean I’m going to divulge the details of said private conversation.”

You divert your gaze, feeling flushed. He has a point, but if he’s put out by your line of questioning or your eavesdropping, he doesn’t show it. “Come on,” Namjoon says. “Let’s go back to the square. I need a drink and it’s dangerous to walk around right now.”

“Because of the wolves?”

He stares at you. “Because it’s dark and there are a bunch of strangers in your town, and you’re a woman alone. In the dark.”

“You’re a stranger in my town.”

His grin spreads and his dimple deepens. Your stomach flutters. You’re not unaffected by him, a little dizzy and nervous when he sticks out a hand. “Namjoon. I’m a part of the Kim family.”

“Like… Dr. Kim?” you ask, reaching out your hand and giving him your name.

“We’re related, in a way. Pretty name. I think I’ll stick with Red, though.”

Namjoon takes off walking. For a second, you just stand and stare at him. He shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t look back. You lick your lips, heart pounding. You cannot shake the sense of something peculiar about him, something familiar. He’s a Kim - perhaps you know him.

Determined to find out, you take off after him, scurrying to catch up. You fall into step with him and look up to find him smirking down at you before focusing back on the growing noise and lights of the main square. 

“Have you been here before?” you ask, watching him from the corner of your eye. He shakes his head and you frown. “I feel like I know you.”

“Perhaps I have one of those faces?”

“No, I’d remember a face like yours.”

Namjoon turns to you, arching a brow. “A face like mine, huh?” 

Multiple fire pits dot the streets, groups of people clustered around them to keep warm as the chill seeps back into the village. The inn is bustling with people, the door propped open with a chair as people walk in and out with platters of food and tankards in hand. Multiple villagers have pulled out tables and chairs from their homes, setting them up in the street. 

It feels good. The air hums with euphoria and the promise of better days ahead, like suddenly there are not several families mourning their loved ones. The atmosphere reminds you of a festival, and you suppose it kind of is a festival. 

The smell of burning fat and ale hits your nose as you walk into the inn. Voices roar over one another and the workers are busy behind the bar. A fireplace crackles in the far corner where you spot Hoseok guarding an extra chair. 

“I fear this is where we part ways,” Namjoon announces over the din of voices. “Try not to do any more eavesdropping tonight.” You hesitate, wanting to protest. There are a million burning questions you have for him. He must see it in your face, because he smiles and says, “We’ll run into one another again. Don’t worry.”

“I wasn’t worried.”

You were actually, and you know he knows by his smirk. “Goodnight, Red.”

You watch Namjoon go. He moves toward where the innkeeper stands at a podium looking over reservations, blending into the crowd. Just before he reaches the podium he glances over his shoulder at you, catching you watching. He shoots you a grin and you scowl, pivoting on your heel to charge toward Hoseok. 

Hoseok raises his eyebrows when he sees you storm over to him and yank the chair out from the table, sitting down in a huff. Without a word, you snatch his tankard of ale and take several, cold gulps before setting it on the table, letting it wash through you. 

“Who was that you came in with? And then stormed over here after speaking to?”

“Some relative of the Kims,” you mutter. “I find him very… frustrating.”

“He’s very handsome.”

You glare at Hoseok and see the beginning of a wicked smile. “And frustrating.” 

He lifts his cup, shrugging. “Cheers to being frustrating.”

-

A scream wakes you up in the middle of the night. You lurch up from bed, head spinning as you try to gather your wits about you. Blankets tangle your limbs as you try to peel them from sweaty skin. Another scream makes you stumble out of bed, the world tilting on its axis as your body tries to catch up with your sudden lucidity. 

In the main room of your home, your mother is stumbling through the kitchen too, lighting a candle and grabbing a holder. You feel relief as you realize the screaming isn’t coming from your home, but your neighbor’s.

Together, you and your mother rush out into the cold in nightgowns, not bothering with shoes or coats. The cold is bitter, immediately stinging your skin as the Liang family joins you in running to the Hutch family home where it sounds like Mrs. Hutch is screaming like a wild animal in her house. 

“It’s Leanne,” your mother breathes, words turning to steam in the air. 

“Come on,” you urge, pulling your mother as you go, driven by the shrieks.

The front door hangs open as Mr. Liang enters the home first, an ax in hand. It occurs to you that neither you nor your mother have weapons, but Mrs. Hutch has always been kind to your mother, making the both of you charge into the darkness of her home empty-handed.

A metallic tang hits you immediately. You recoil, recognizing the stench of blood immediately. Villagers spill into the home behind you, alerted to the wailing coming from the bedroom. With torches and candles in hand, you spot the red on the dark wood floor in the hallway. 

Mr. Liang stands in the doorway of the bedroom, staring with a haunted gaze at what he sees there. Your mother pushes through the people in the home to look over his shoulder, her hand flying to her mouth as she gasps. 

“Oh Leanne,” she murmurs in horror, shoving by Mr. Liang.

You don’t go to the room. The smell and the weeping coming from the bedroom give you an inkling of what lay inside. You stand in the living room as people fill the hall, gasping and murmuring. Someone shouts to wake the constable. 

“Why?” Mrs. Hutch screams in her room, the despair in her voice rattling your bones. “Why?”

“His throat has been cut,” someone murmurs from the hall. “Murdered in bed.” 

Murdered? That throws you for a loop. You had assumed somehow it was an animal attack but… you shiver. Murder is different. 

Mr. Liang begins shooing people out of the house. You slink out into the cold and hurry to your own home, bare feet freezing in the cold, wet earth. Your mother stays with Mrs. Hutch, leaving you alone.

The dark presses in on you, every creak of a floorboard making you jump. The shadows seem menacing now and you’re quick to find and light a candle, orange light flooding the home. 

Cloth and candle in hand, you return to your room to wipe the cold mud from your feet, skin still burning from the frigid air. Voices carry in from outside, the entire town waking and gathering as the shock of murder ripples through the streets, a stone in a pond.

With sleep nowhere near possible for the remainder of the night, you get dressed. You pull on thick woolen pants, a tunic, and multiple socks, sticking your feet in your boots. Your cloak goes next, fastening it around your throat as you look out your bedroom window. 

Your home sits at an angle in a row of houses that circle the village like a ring. You can see the wall of the home next to you, and a sliver of the backyard as well. It’s that tiny space in the backyard that catches your eye, watching as someone moves from the edge of the home out of sight. 

Heart in your throat, you grab a candle and run outside. The crowd in front of the Hutch’s has grown, but you ignore them, skirting around your house to the alleyway between you and your neighbor. Nothing catches your eye as you run to the backyard, swiveling as you search in the darkness for the shadow you saw. 

The wind howls, drowning out the voices in the street. The treeline behind the houses is dark. You squint your eyes and lift the candle in your hand, the flame barely flickering as the wind makes the trees sway. There is nothing in the darkness and you begin to turn when you see a shadow in the tree line. 

It’s barely there - perhaps a trick of the light, even. You take a step forward, boots crunching in the snow. A gust of wind makes your cloak snap at your ankles, candle going out and leaving you without a source of light. You had not realized how dark it was without it, the shadow vanishing from your line of sight. 

Fear nestles in the pit of your stomach. Your breath gets stuck in your lungs as your limbs lock, realizing how stupid it was to come outside if there was a killer among the trees. Soft snow crunches somewhere close to you. You squeeze your eyes shut, tucking your chin to your chest as panic makes you shut down, unable to move and-

“Red.”

Namjoon’s voice makes you spin around. He holds a torch level with his head, the flame casting an eerie glow on his face. For a moment, he looks lupine and terrifying, your heart nearly stuttering to a halt. 

Then his face twists in concern. “What are you doing out here alone?”

“What are you doing?”

“Dr. Kim sent me over to check on you. No one answered the door so I came around back.”

“Why?”

Namjoon seems confused. “Why did I come around back or why did he send me?”

“Both.”

“I could see the light of your candle and because a murder has just happened.”

You relax a little at the logic in his answer. Snow begins to fall from the sky. You look up at the moonless black,  thick clouds floating as the bits of snow drift on the breeze. You shiver and look back to the trees, seeing nothing but tightly packed pines. Still, there is an instinctual sense of trepidation that sits heavy in your gut.

“Come on,” Namjoon says gently. “Let’s go inside. I’ll wait with you until your mother comes home.” 

Reluctantly, you follow Namjoon. Eyeing him, you realize he is dressed differently than previously that night. Now, he’s in black breeches and a black linen shirt. The weapons belt is gone and he’s without a coat. 

You frown. “Aren’t you freezing?”

“I run warm.”

It’s the only answer that he gives you as you walk back into the street which is filled with people and torches. In the distance, you hear the baying of hounds. It chills you, goosebumps exploding up and down your arms as you watch a cluster of firelights gather far off down the road. 

“The constable is leading a manhunt. They’ll come to question us too.” 

Wordlessly you gesture for Namjoon to join you inside of your home. He closes the door firmly behind you and strides to the fireplace, using the torch to coax the simmering logs to a full flame. Cedar pops as he adds the torch to the fire, orange embers drifting up the chimney. 

Rubbing your hands together, you offer him tea and he accepts with a soft smile. It doesn’t meet his eyes as he looks around the only place you’ve ever called home. Suddenly shy of your less-than-luxurious surroundings, you clear your throat and gesture to one of the mismatched armchairs by the fire as you grab a kettle.

Namjoon hardly fits in the chair. You press your lips to keep from laughing, which feels inappropriate with a man dead just a few yards away. With careful hands, you hang the kettle next to the fire, the flame close enough to heat the water as you scurry back to the kitchen and fill tea bags with herbs. 

“What kind of tea do you like?”

“Yarrow, if you have it.”

“I do.” You grab the jar, popping the top. “Are you in great pain, Mr. Kim?”

“Call me Namjoon. Mr. Kim feels far too formal.”

“Well, we are strangers, after all.”

Namjoon certainly doesn’t feel like a stranger. You cast him a sidelong glance as you say it, looking for his reaction. He turns his head from the fire, meeting your gaze head-on. His lips curve in a secret smile, making your nerves dance.

“I suppose that’s true.”

Is it? You wonder. You’re not so sure. 

Instead of asking him, you bring the mugs with bags of tea over to where he sits, handing him one. Steam rises from the spout of the teapot. With a thick towel, you lift it off of the hanger. Namjoon holds out his cup and lets you pour carefully into his mug, the smell of yarrow and mint wafting toward you. After pouring your own cup, you set the kettle down and sit across from him.

Your cold hands leech the warmth from the mug. You settle comfortably in the chair, relaxing and inhaling the chamomile in your cup. After a few moments of silence, you realize how comfortable and safe you feel with Namjoon, though you’ve only known him for a few short hours. 

“Why have you come to the village?” 

Namjoon watches the fire as he answers, “You were eavesdropping at the veterinary office. I’m sure you heard me.” You look down at your steaming cup and Namjoon chuckles, raspy and deep. It’s a nice sound.

“You said there was a ‘protected’ here. And something about a Yoongi.”

Namjoon’s face darkens at the mention of Yoongi. You chew on your lip, worried you’ve pushed him too far before you’ve even started to ask him real questions. His jaw works as he contemplates what you’ve said, sipping the tea a little. 

“A protected just means someone under protection by my family,” Namjoon says finally. “My extended family is… large. We are a very close group and we consider those in our community blood.”

“It is… not always like that here.”

“Your mother assists Mrs. Hutch, though. That seems like family, in a way.”

“Mrs. Hutch is kind. Not everyone is.” 

Namjoon nods. “It is not like that where I am from. We bear the sins of our neighbors and we share the responsibility of keeping everyone safe.”

“That must be nice.” You sip your tea and scald your tongue, hissing and setting the cup down. Namjoon leans forward as though to help you, alarm on his face. “Tea is too hot. I don’t know how you drink it.”

He smiles and shrugs. “I run warm.” 

“So you said. How are you related to Dr. Kim?” 

“He’s my uncle. He’s my father’s brother. His wife was best friends with my mom.” 

“Oh.” You blink in surprise. “She passed away when I was very young. She… died the same winter as my father.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Namjoon frowns and cocks his head. “What did your father do?” 

“He was a hunter.”

One of the logs pops in the fireplace, making you flinch. You give a nervous laugh and glance at Namjoon, who has gone stone-still. The firelight dances on his face as he peers at you. Your smile falters a little at the gravity you find there. 

“He only hunted fowl and deer,” you find yourself explaining. You don’t know why you say it, only that suddenly that feels important. “He didn’t like to hunt bigger game or predators. Mother says that he believed they were best left alone and that a true hunter knows his betters when he sees them.”

Namjoon hums. “Smart man.”

“I don’t know. He died in an animal attack when I was very young.” 

“You must resent the woods.”

“Not at all. I think…” You bite your bottom lip, trying to find the right words. “I think that he wouldn’t blame the animals. The woods are their home. My mother says he was always very adamant about that. They don’t usually attack villagers, though.”

“Usually?”

“There are animal attacks happening. I’m sure Dr. Kim told you…?”

“Ah, yes. You think they’re without reason?”

“Perhaps hunger? I don’t know. It does not happen often.” 

“Wolves are not known to hunt people.” Namjoon’s fingers drum against his mug, a steady tap. He seems thoughtful as he regards you. “They’re intelligent creatures and their packs are important to them. They take the threat to their land and their family seriously.” 

“Like your family?”

He laughs. “Like my family.” Namjoon sips his tea again. “This land used to belong to several packs of wolves, you know?”

“Really?”

“Yes, until settlers drove them out. Not that long ago there were hunting parties for sport. They slaughtered entire packs, destroying bloodlines and nearly wiping out the wolves here entirely.”

“I always found that incredibly sad.”

“Why is that?”

“They’re incredibly important to the ecosystem here. And I guess I always agreed with my dad. I don’t remember him much, but I like to remember that he was good at heart.”

Namjoon hums but says nothing else. You sit in silence for a while, enjoying the warmth of the fire. Namjoon’s presence is steady, keeping out the cold and the fear just beyond the door. You wonder how he does that by just sitting in a chair, or how it feels so natural. 

Outside, the world begins to turn gray. You yawn as exhaustion begins to set in and you feel yourself sagging. Eyes burning, you rub them with the back of your hands, blinking a few times to fight the explosion of colors in your vision. 

“You can sleep,” Namjoon says softly from where he sits. You glance at him. “You can trust me.”

A hint of pine and bergamot drift toward you, making you drowsy. Namjoon grabs a blanket from the back of his chair and stands up, bringing it to you. He takes your mug and you watch him with sleepy, round eyes as he places the blanket over you.

“Sleep.” His voice is soft, distant. “I will be here.”

Your eyes flutter shut and you drift to sleep, remembering the warm sound of his voice. It… reminds you of your wolf.

-

Gentle voices pull you from the clutches of sleep. You wake slowly, a cramp in your neck making you reluctant to get up. You smell the fire and the hint of pine and bergamot. You hear a low, raspy voice that you instantly recognize as Namjoon. 

How swiftly I know his voice, you think. 

“You must wake her,” a male voice says. You recognize it as Dr. Kim. “The constable is coming for questioning.”

“She’s already awake,” Namjoon answers, a smile in his voice. Your eyes snap open at being caught, meeting his dark gaze as he smirks from near your door. “See?”

You scowl at him. How did he know that? Sitting up and stretching, you appraise the two men lurking near your door. “Is my mother still with Mrs. Hutch?”

Dr. Kim nods and steps swiftly into the room around Namjoon. Namjoon reaches out a hand, catching Dr. Kim with his arm and stopping him from entering the room properly. You watch in puzzlement as there’s a silent exchange between the two of them, Namjoon’s face dark as Dr. Kim raises a brow. 

Then, Namjoon lets him go. You cock your head to the side, wondering what that’s about. Ignoring Namjoon, Dr. Kim approaches and says, “The constable will be here shortly. Say nothing about the farm.”

The farm. The memory of the wolves brings a chill to your arm, the smell of smoke and burning oil. The confusion and Dr. Kim’s refusal to answer your questions. 

“What is going on?” you demand, eyes flickering from Dr. Kim to Namjoon. “Animal attacks, murders, you covering up something at the barn. I’m being lied to.” 

“Say nothing about the farm,” Dr. Kim says again, voice firm. Namjoon makes a noise that startles you. It’s almost like a growl, your eyes going wide as he glares at Dr. Kim. “I told you this village has a complicated history. I’m looking after your safety.” 

Heavy footsteps sound on the porch. There’s a loud knock on the door, the constable announcing his presence on the other side. Namjoon opens the door for him, standing back to let him in. The constable looks him up and down with confusion before looking at you, a question in his eyes.

“They came to check on me,” you offer. The constable has known you since you were a child, it’s no wonder he’s confused at the presence of a stranger in your home. “How can I help you, constable?”

“I’d like you to answer a few questions about last night. Mr. Liang confirmed you were one of the first people to Hutch’s last night.”

Dr. Kim walks to your kitchen and busies himself making tea. Namjoon moves to sit in the chair across from you, his warm presence from the night before replaced with something mildly threatening. You cut him a look but his dark eyes are focused on the constable as though he’s a threat. 

The questions are easy enough. When did you wake up? Did you notice anyone around your home when you came home? Did you notice anyone outside? When did you come home? 

You leave out running into Namjoon behind your home. You don’t know why, but you feel the need to not draw attention to him. You also leave out the strange incident at the farm, glancing sideways at Dr. Kim when he brings you lemon tea. 

When the constable is finished, he eyes Dr. Kim. “Be at the station at four,” he instructs. “We’re splitting hunting parties. One to look for the culprit, the other to get rid of the damn wolves.” 

“The wolves were there first, you know?” Namjoon speaks up, looking at you and not the constable. “Have you ever tried figuring out what they want?”

“And who the hell are you?”

“Please ignore my nephew, constable. He likes to insert himself in conversations he doesn’t belong in. Come, let’s look over the hounds before you send them out tonight.”

Together, the constable and Dr. Kim shuffle out. Before he shuts the door, Dr. Kim levels the pair of you with a heavy gaze. You don’t know what that gaze means, but you know that something is going on in this village and that he and Namjoon seem to have some idea about it.

As soon as the door shuts, you turn to Namjoon and demand, “What is going on?”

He sighs. “Would you listen if I just said to wait it out?”

“Do you know who murdered Mr. Hatch?” 

Namjoon hesitates and shakes his head. You narrow your eyes, unbelieving. “I really don’t know who did, Red.”

“Why are you really here? Why all the secrets?” 

“I told you, my family protects those who belong to their community.”

“What did you mean about asking what the wolves want?” 

“I told you last night. There were wolves long before this village existed. Seems to me that if the wolves are suddenly killing the townspeople, perhaps it’s because they want their land back. Or maybe they’re angry from years of being hunted.”

That shuts you up. You can’t argue with that, exactly. But… “Are you saying that the wolves are capable of revenge?”

Namjoon stands and gestures to your cloak. “How often do you wear that?”

“Every day. It’s… sentimental to me.”

His eyes lighten and he offers a half smile. “Good. Red is a lucky color.”

“Where are you going?”

He opens the door, cold wind hissing past the opening. “Your mom is coming. I’ll see you later, Red.”

Without another word, Namjoon slips through the door and shuts it firmly behind him. You stare after him, openmouthed and confused. As promised, you hear your mother come up the steps, light feet scuffing before she quickly lets herself in, shutting the door firmly behind her.

You offer to make your mother breakfast, happy to help as she dozes in the chair. It isn’t until later that you wonder how Namjoon had heard her coming at all.

-

Little Lucy Larkin

In a little wood

Little Lucy Larkin

Up to no good

Little Lucy Larkin

In her little hood

Little Lucy Larkin

Ware of the woods!

Little Lucy Larkin

Stole a little bread

Little Lucy Larkin

In the woods of dread

Little Lucy Larkin

Is a little thief

Little Lucy Larkin

Die by wolf’s teeth

A sense of unease slithers up your spine as you pull your cloak closer. The voice of the children playing the Little Lucy Game echoes down the street and you pause to watch as the little boy playing Lucy steals the rock from the middle of the circle and the little boy playing the wolf gets up to chase him. 

The other kids scream and giggle as the boys give chase, the sound of their laughter eerie in the cold gray of twilight. Shaking it off, you turn and duck your head as you walk up the steps to the Tall Tales Inn. 

Warmth and the scent of food greet you. It’s a thinner crowd than the day before but still more people than you’re used to without the traders in town. There is a clear divide in the dining room with traders on one side and townsfolk on the other, the murder quick to make the locals distrust the new people in their streets.

Tense conversations hum in the gold light. You navigate around tables until you find Hoseok sitting with Seokjin. The sight of Seokjin gives you pause. He seems to sense your presence, glancing up and meeting your questioning stare. He gives no reaction, though, turning his attention back to Hoseok who is murmuring quietly.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, Jin,” you say by way of greeting. Hoseok gives you a look at your clipped tone. You ignore it, sitting down and leveling the older man with a stare, his father’s mysteriousness weighing on you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”

He narrows his eyes a fraction. “Just enjoying the company of friends.”

“Shouldn’t you be helping the constable?”

“I’m on the late-night shift.” 

Grinding your teeth, you sit roughly. Hoseok just watches you, brows raised. You say nothing as you order a drink and a meal, picking at the splinters of the tabletop, eyeing Seokjin. If he’s put out by your rudeness he doesn’t show it, drinking heartily from his tankard and watching you with dark, even eyes. 

You know Seokjin knows whatever it is his father and Namjoon have been talking about. You yourself have not been able to work out what’s going on in the village, but you’re sure the Kims know. And if Dr. Kim asked you to lie to the constable… well perhaps Seokjin is leading him astray as well.

Hoseok pipes up, steering the conversation everywhere he can to avoid the tension building between you and Seokjin and the topics of murders. You participate as little as possible, mind trying to put together the puzzle pieces of the blooming mystery in your home. 

An uncomfortable thought starts to take root in your mind. Is it possible that the Kim family is behind the murders? Dr. Kim has plenty of weapons at his disposal, and they had been talking about revenge, and Dr. Kim had covered up what happened at the Marrow’s farm… but what did that have to do with wolves?

You’re not sure. But you do know that the Kims are purposefully hiding things, that there is a murderer somewhere in the town or near it, and that there is a sense of doom that you cannot shake, a dark itch like stinging nettle in your bones. 

Seokjin excuses himself to take an afternoon nap before his hunting party heads out for the evening. Your eyes track him as he goes. Seokjin certainly doesn’t seem evil, but there’s no telling what’s behind his pretty face. 

“What is wrong with you?” Hoseok asks, leaning over the table and whispering harshly. “You’re behaving rather odd.”

“Something is going on.”

“Yes, your attitude.”

You turn and glare at him. “No, Hobi. Something is going on with the Kim family. I don’t know how to explain it.” You grip your cup tighter. “But I intend to figure it out.” 

Hoseok questions you about what that means. You keep your answers vague, not wanting to rope him into your plan. Too often as children did you lure Hoseok into trouble, and with how dangerous night is becoming in your town, you know it’s a bad idea to endanger him too.

T sun sets over the village. You stand at your bedroom window, watching through the frosty window as the sun turns the sky into a smear of blood. The clouds have cleared away just for this sanguine sunset. It makes your stomach turn, a sense of foreboding heavy in the air.

Still, it doesn’t deter you. Red fades to gray-blue and gray-blue fades to black. Wind rattles the glass in the window pane. Turning from the window, you find your thickest pair of pants and fur-lined tunic. The fabric feels scratchy on your skin.

Dressed, you look at your red cloak folded on the bed. Any other night you would take it with you. It has become your safety net, something that keeps you warm and keeps you safe. You cannot recall a day you haven’t worn it since it mysteriously showed up thirteen years ago, but tonight, you need obscurity.

Instead, you reach for an old, thick cloak that used to belong to your father. It's dark brown and worn at the edges, a little too big for you as the hem brushes the ground. It will serve its purpose in keeping you hidden in the dark of the woods, though. 

All you grab is a hunting knife that you don’t know how to use, a wax candle, and a solid piece of flint and sharp rock to light it with. The candle and flint are for emergencies only. You hope it won’t be so dark that you cannot see, but you’re unsure what the clouds are going to do.

Outside, the wind is sharp. Your nostrils burn as you breathe it in and duck away behind your house. No new snow has fallen during the day, which is a good thing. You don’t have to worry about dragging your boots and tiring your calves. It also helps that the sky is clear tonight, the moon a sliver of sharp light. 

Baying hounds echo through the village and the forest as the hunting dogs lead the men into the woods. You’re quick on your feet, dashing into the woods and heading north. You don’t want to run right into the hunting party, but you do want to find their burning torches and keep them in your line of sight.

They are easy to find, hovering like orange fireflies in the distance. Careful to make your way in the dark, you follow them. Your breath mists in front of you, hands shaking more from the adrenaline than the cold. 

The torches spread out. You chew on your lip, unsure which group would belong to Seokjin. You take a gamble, heading after the group closest to you. 

Everything feels too loud. Each snap of a branch under your foot and crunch of dry leaves feels like it’s going to give you away. Still, you’re good at sneaking for the most part, having spent plenty of time skulking through the village to take nightly strolls in the woods.

Voices carry to you. Through a system of running a few steps forward and dodging behind a tree, you manage to follow the men at a distance. You think that you hear the constable’s voice, which is a good sign. If he’s around, perhaps Seokjin is too.

The deeper you go into the forest, the colder it gets. The ground beneath your feet slopes. The evergreens are packed tighter here, needles tickling your hands as you keep your hands held out from your sides as you slide downward.

This is near where I saved that wolf, you think. 

It’s true. You recognize the slope of the land and the general area. You cannot tell if it’s exactly where you met the wolf, but it’s close enough that your senses tingle and your eyes sweep the land, expecting something to happen.

A sense of foreboding trails you as the men move deeper into the wood. You turn around and look for the other torches and see nothing but a dark, compact forest. Your stomach flips uncomfortably but you continue, unsure now if it’s safer to turn back or to keep going. 

Ahead, the group of men decide to take a break. The hounds sniff the area around them, pulling at the leashes as they go. Crouching low, you watch as the hounds go in circles, following the scent of something that seems to confuse them. 

The men take long droughts of water, making you wish you’d thought of that. Mouth dry and hands cold, you huddle against a tree, bark digging into your back. 

A few minutes pace by. You close your eyes, resting your head against the tree, breathing cold air in deeply. You don’t know what you expect the group to lead you to, only that you-

Something snaps behind you. Your eyes fly open and your limbs lock. Heart beating like a steady drum, you hold your breath and strain your eyes. For a moment, there’s nothing but the dim voices of the men taking a break. You think it’s nothing until you hear something again, a gentle susurration of leaves. 

One of the hounds lifts its head, ears twitching. Your eyes scan the surrounding area back and forth, searching for what you know is there. 

It happens so fast that you don’t even see the wolves enter the ring of torchlight until they’re there, snarls rattling the trees. You clamp your hands over your mouth to mute your gasp as the sounds of screams and tearing flesh explode in the night. Hounds screech, their growls savage and choked as the wolves descend. 

You don’t know how many there are. Torch lights go down and drown you in darkness. Squeezing your eyes shut, you curl in on yourself, panting through your hands as the sounds echo in your ears. A new fear has stabbed its way between your ribs, making it hard to breathe. 

Time moves slowly. Or quickly. You cannot tell which. One moment the sounds of a nightmare turned real are just a few hundred yards away. The next, an eerie silence blankets the dark forest. 

You don’t want to open your eyes, but you have to. Very slowly, you crack an eye open. At first, there’s nothing. Your vision swims with flashing colors, your eyes trying to adjust. Then, there is the vague outline of trees. Ahead of you, where the men had been, lay shadowed piles. 

Shaking, you glance around. You see nothing - hear nothing. You stand slowly. Each inch you gain feels like you’re being too loud. Sweat gathers on the back of your neck. The cool air makes it feel like an icy finger brushing down your nape. 

When you’re sure that there’s nothing else around, you take a step toward where the attack happened. Leaves crunch beneath your feet. You stop breathing, waiting for signs of anything. Nothing happens and you let out a trembling breath, taking one more step. Again, you wait to see if your footfalls will trigger something. 

You repeat this to the edge of the slaughter - for that’s what it is. A slaughter. Bile rises in your throat as you reach the first body and stamped-out torch. The constable and his hound lay in tatters, only recognizable by the batch on his cloak. 

It is carnage. You don’t dare breathe through your nose for fear of breathing in the scent of death, circling the scene with weak knees, hand pressed to your mouth to keep in the whimpers. You see the faces of men you’ve known since you were a child. Ripped, bloodied, gored. 

Finally, you lean over and empty the contents of your stomach. It burns on the way up, choking you. Pressing a hand against a tree, you breathe raggedly. The adrenaline coursing through you makes you twitchy and unstable, each nerve feeling like it’s on fire. 

Leaves crunch a few feet away. Your head snaps in and you zero in on the source of the noise, mouth hanging open when you see Seokjin standing amongst the trees. He stares at you, frown on his face. 

“Who are you?” he asks, voice gentle. You realize he can’t see your face under the cowl of your hood and you’re not in your traditional red. He sighs. “Doesn’t matter.” 

You hear shuffling behind him before you see a white wolf. The white wolf from the Marrow farm. There are others, then. You don’t know how you missed them, the darkness of their fur blending in with the darkness around them.

The white one is spotted in red, muzzle matted, teeth slicked. Your stomach lurches. It isn’t hard to guess where it’s from. You take a step back and the wolf growls, lips pulled back. You freeze, looking amongst the pack of wolves that fan out around Seokjin, desperately looking for your wolf with the kind, intelligent eyes. 

You do not find him there. 

With a growl, the white wolf steps forward. Your instincts kick in and you turn and run, letting out a wild shriek as you do so. If Seokjin recognizes your voice when you scream, you cannot tell. The wolves are after you and you’re barreling through the trees with no hope of outrunning them, especially uphill.

A wolf nips at your ankle and you scream, tripping over your feet in your terror and going down hard. You’re jarred as you hit the ground, bones rattling as pain shoots up your limbs from the impact. Before you can scramble, there are teeth around your ankle, not biting down hard enough to snap, but hard enough to drag.

Your scream is wretched even to your ears. It is a curdling, nightmarish sound. You feel the scrape of leaves and sticks against your skin, cloak picking up dirt and twigs as you go. Your nails dig into the ground but the soil is frozen solid, fingers scraping bluntly against it. 

With a surge of self-preservation, you kick your free leg backward as hard as you can. You hit the wolf in the muzzle, making it cry, and let go of your foot. You manage to crawl to your knees, slipping in the foliage as you try to stand before it’s tearing at your cloak, determined to drag you one way or another. 

Sliding again as it drags you by the cloak, you try to undo the ties at your throat with shaking fingers. It comes away and frees you from the hellish drag to your death. This time, you’re faster to your feet, turning and running in the opposite direction. You don’t know where you’re going, just that you want to get away. 

Your foot slides on the incline and with a shout you go down. This time, your head hits the ground hard. Your ears ring and your vision pulses. Blinking, you roll over and stare up at the canopy of dark trees. The world spins dangerously and you feel nausea churn deep in your stomach.

“Yoongi!” you hear the deep voice but it sounds warbled like you’re hearing it through water. Your head lolls to the side, the ringing in your ears still going as you see feet pass you. “Enough!”

Your field of vision narrows to a sharp point, edges pulling with black. You realize you’re about to pass out, oddly just thankful that you’re already on the ground. Just as your world begins to face, the face of the person in front of you appears.

Namjoon. 

-

“Hey,” a gentle voice calls to you. There are soft hands on your head, brushing against your forehead. It smells like pine and bergamot as you snuggle into them. “I hate to wake you, but you need to wake up every few hours.”

The memory of the wolves comes to you. Your eyes snap open and you blink a few times before your vision adjusts to see Namjoon leaning over you. Cringing away from him, you press yourself into a warm, soft mattress that isn’t your own.

“Easy,” he cautions, holding his hands up. “You smacked your head very hard. I think you have a concussion.” 

“Where am I?” 

The room isn’t so much a room as it is a shack. There is a single fireplace in the far corner, a pile of logs, and the bed that you’re in. Despite the tiny space, it looks well-built and it’s warm, your heart slowing down as Namjoon leans to sit further from you and give you your space.

“Random shack in the woods near your village. I think it used to be a hunter’s stead for the winter.” He jerks his thumb toward the fireplace. “Hasn’t been used in a while. The wood has rotted.” 

“Seokjin - you - what is going on?” 

Emotions spill out of you like a broken dam. You don’t know which to acknowledge first: anger, fear, curiosity, gratitude. 

Namjoon’s sigh is heavy. He visibly looks wearing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how soft his hair is, followed immediately by feeling ridiculous for the timing of said thought. 

“Just…” he winces. “Try to lean back and take it easy, I’m worried about how hard you hit your head. I promise I have no intentions of hurting you or letting anyone hurt me.”

“You called that white wolf Yoongi. Who is Yoongi? Why was Seokjin in the woods - those people - they’re dead.”

He nods slowly. “They are.” 

You lean back carefully. The bed is comfortable and Namjoon keeps his distance, worried eyes on you. “I will try to explain the best I can. It will require a little bit of faith that I’m not lying to you and that I’m not insulting your intelligence by telling you things that will sound insane.” 

“Like what?”

“Like werewolves exist.”

You stare at him. He doesn’t laugh, crack a grin, or do anything to make you believe he’s joking. Your first instinct is to blow him off. Werewolves were a tale for children and a way to help the children of the village cope during periods of wolf violence. 

Thus far, all Namjoon has done is protect you. Strange as it seems, you know that fact to be true. He didn’t tell Dr. Jim you were eavesdropping, he kept you company after Mr. Hatch’s murder, and he stopped the wolves from taking you.

Namjoon is… there is something between you. You know it.

Hesitantly, you say, “Alright. Werewolves exist. Keep going.”

He is visibly relieved that you’re not questioning or berating him. You don’t exactly believe him yet, but you want to hear his story. 

“There were communities of werewolves who lived here long before humans did. When people migrated to this area, they drove them out and forced those communities to become smaller and smaller. When the werewolves asked for their land back or to share resources, they were hunted and slaughtered.” 

Namjoon’s throat bobs and emotions flicker across his face. His features settle on pain, and you stop yourself from reaching out to take his hand. “What you vaguely remember as wolf attacks and wolf hunts as a child was those families being exterminated. There are a few families in the village who remember that werewolves exist. They took it upon themselves to remove the problem forever.”

This village has a complicated history. 

Dr. Kim’s words float through your mind as you chew on what Namjoon has told you. He lets the information settle, giving you a few moments to think. You don’t recall anyone seriously ever talking about werewolves but… 

“They’re angry,” you murmur, remembering how San described the massacre at the Mathesons. “The wolves now - those aren’t wolves. They’re werewolves who are getting revenge. You spoke of revenge with Dr. Kim. Is that why the animal attacks have been happening?��

Namjoon nods grimly. “There is a very small concentration of people in the village who keep the secret about the massacres and the knowledge of werewolves. Those families have been… targeted recently. They still hunt werewolves when they can.”

“Who is Yoongi?”

“Ah,” he lets out a humorless laugh. “He leads the last remaining community of werewolves. His family was murdered by your constable when he was a child.” You blanch. “Yoongi is angry, vengeful, and very influential. When he was voted pack alpha, he decided to eliminate the last remaining threats.” 

“He’s the white wolf.” Namjoon raises his brows but nods. You think that makes sense, remembering the white wolf at the Marrow farm and the one who dragged you in the forest. “Why was Seokjin there? Did he lead the constable to-”

Namjoon hesitates and nods. “The Kim family are wolf friends. It’s largely the reason Dr. Kim is a veterinarian. They’re what we call one foot in the forest. There were two others in your village that were wolf friends. Your neighbor was one.”

You twist your fingers in the blanket. “Did Yoongi-”

“No. I believe he was murdered by one of the men who knows what Yoongi and his people are.” 

“So that’s why Seokjin led them to Yoongi?” Namjoon gives a curt nod. “This is…. A lot to take in.” 

“It is. Sleep a little more and we’ll talk about it more when you wake up. Your head is already swimming enough, yeah?”

Namjoon’s grin is gentle and you shoot one back. “Do you promise to tell me why you’re really here? And why it feels like I know you?”

“Of course. Sleep, Red.”

-

Namjoon wakes you again a few hours later. This time, it’s with water. It’s cool and fresh, soothing your aching head and waking up your sleepy senses. He lets you drain the entire thing, sitting thoughtfully at the end of your bed. 

This time, you feel more alert. Sitting up carefully, you cross your legs and examine him. He’s dressed in simple clothes and a jacket, the fireplace throwing an orange glow on his face. Again, you’re struck with how much you could swear you know him, like his eyes are something you know and love. 

He waits for you to get settled, placing your hands in your lap. You fiddle with the edge of your tunic, drinking him in. Strong shoulders, rough hands, tawny skin. Your heart does a flip before you shove away thoughts of how pretty he is to think about what he’s told you so far.

“I have questions.”

He smiles and it’s as warm as the fire behind him. “Of course you do.”

“Did the werewolves kill my father?”

You get the tough one out of the way first. It was a thought you had just before you slept, wondering if your father had been someone who helped the constable murder Yoongi’s family. Though you have decided to dislike the white wolf very strongly, you can’t help but pity him.

“No,” Namjoon says vehemently. “After you told me about your father, I did some asking around. He was a wolf friend. That’s why he didn’t hunt big game, Red. He knew about us.” 

A tight feeling works its way up your throat. The relief and anger you feel is a double-edged sword, happy that he didn’t contribute to the displacement Namjoon is speaking of and angry that you know with every bone in your body that he was murdered. The instinct speaks to you the same way it tells you that you know Namjoon. 

You look up at him sharply, realizing something. “What do you mean ‘he knew about us’? Us?” 

Namjoon’s eyes are dark. He regards you intensely, making you shiver. Slowly, Namjoon begins to roll one of his sleeves. Your eyes drop to his hand as he does, long fingers meticulous. He bares his skin and holds his hand out to you, displaying the jagged, white scar that lopes around his wrist. 

Without thinking twice, you reach out to him, pulling his hand toward you. His skin is warm, sending a tingle through your fingertips. His palm is large and rough, your fingers delicate as you flip it to face the ceiling, eyes glued to the scarring around his wrist.

You move your fingers over his palm gently, scraping the calluses as you go. He lets you do what you want, touch stopping at his wrist bone before glancing up at him. His eyes are impossibly dark and he nods, urging you forward. 

The scarring is rough. Thick, ropey lines encircle his wrist like his hand was ravished by teeth. It makes you faintly think of Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle or -

“You,” you breathe, eyes meeting his. They are the same warm, intelligent, and welcoming eyes of the wolf you’d saved all those years ago. The wolf who had stood between you and the others at the Marrow farm. The wolf you dream about every night. “I saved you?”

His throat bobs. “You did.”

“I… that’s why it feels like I know you.” Your fingers trace his scar, almost fondly. Namjoon’s eyes flutter. “I do know you. Why didn’t you tell me?” 

He smirks. “‘Hi, my name is Namjoon and I can turn into a wolf whenever I want and you saved me a few years ago and I’ve been thinking about you ever since’ is not exactly a great opening.” 

“Better than ‘you know most people who don’t want to be seen don’t wear a red cloak’.” He scrunches his nose. Cute. “I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s alright. I’ll talk if you’re willing to listen?”

You nod, not letting go of his hand. Now that you know who and what he is, any residual fear is gone. You scoot toward him, wanting to be closer. “I want to know.”

“Giho is my uncle like I said. He’s not a werewolf, though. That trait passed through my mom’s side of the family. Still, he was family and he knew about the werewolves that my father married into. He's a wolf friend and does what he can to help us, including making house calls and stealing us goods in harsh winters.”

“Huh. I always just thought he was a quiet, grumpy vet.”

“He is very much that, but he has also been a lifeline. He helps Yoongi far more than he should. It puts him in danger. His wife was killed for being a wolf friend. Giho was left alone simply because he is useful to the village.” Your fingers squeeze his hand at the hurt in his voice. “That night you found me… I was pretty young then. Fourteen, to be exact. I was nosing around the village that everyone was so afraid of and never saw the trap. I cannot emphasize how much you saved my life.” 

“It seemed like the right thing to do. I was afraid but you were… hurt. And your eyes were so kind. I don’t regret it.”

“What a relief.” You smile, genuinely happy. “I was worried you might after finding out my family were sort of… killing people.”

“When you put it that way,” you wince. “But I do believe you. That humans drove you out. That people are hurting you and your people. You don’t deserve it and I… don’t think I am in a position to offer moral arguments to what you’re doing.”

“I knew I liked you.”

“You barely know me.”

Namjoon turns his hand and catches yours, lacing your fingers. Your heart skitters as he pulls you a little close and leans, eyes narrowed playfully. “Hmm, sorry. I wasn’t really allowed to come hang out around your town, Little Red.” 

“Why did you finally come? Is it to help Yoongi?”

He shakes his head. “I only have one goal.”

“Which is?”

“To keep you safe.” That quiets you. Namjoon doesn’t meet your eyes when he continues, “You showed me such kindness, I just wanted to repay you. I liked to keep an eye on you when I could, always from a safe distance. You might not know me, but I grew up knowing you.”

Your mouth goes dry at his words. For someone who poses such a threat, Namjoon is gentle. Soft. Kind. You swallow past the lump in your throat. “Did you give me the red cloak?” 

“Yeah. It was to mark you as a friend. We give them to those who are under our protection.” He narrows his eyes. “Which is why Yoongi swears he didn’t know it was you in the woods tonight. Seokjin’s eyesight is too piss poor to realize it was you. Idiots.”

“Well if you know about me, tell me about you. What’s your favorite color? What do you like to eat? What's your favorite thing about being a wolf?”

So Namjoon does tell you. You both end up sitting on the bed next to one another, arms touching as he traces the lines on your palm. Your backs are pressed against the wall, feet dangling off the edge of his bed as he tells you about his childhood. 

It is fascinating hearing about the dynamics of his community but it’s also sad. Hearing how they live in fear, hearing how so many of the people he knows are gone. Realizing that the things he tells you match up with things you realize about your own community. 

Sadness sinks to the bottom of your gut like a rock. It isn’t pity that you feel, but something far more profound. It’s regret that you didn’t know any better. Frustration that he has suffered. A radical feeling of anger and desire for justice knowing you lived in comfort while Namjoon and his family suffered. 

There are good parts, too. Namjoon recalls happy moments and blushes when he recalls seeing you a few times. It doesn’t feel weird or strange, knowing someone was looking out for you. It feels comforting, like old friends catching up. 

Namjoon’s eyes sparkle as he tells you about his favorite books. You don’t know when you stop listening to him and start staring, but it’s inevitable. You love the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles, dimple making an appearance as he recalls a story about putting Yoongi in the dirt with his brother, Taehyung’s help. You love the way he gestures wildly with his hands, every word evocative and enthusiastic. 

He’s the kind of person you would have been friends with had he grown up with you. And maybe a little more, you think, watching Namjoon watch you. His gaze is even and heated, making you squirm. His mouth twitches and you’re so sure that he knows he makes you nervous.

“I never thanked you,” you mention. He hums in question, letting you go back to tracing his scare delicately. He twitches and you grin. Good. “For saving me from the jaws of Yoongi.”

“Ah, that. I think he knew it was you. There’s a reason he dragged you instead of killing you on the spot.”

“Huh. Well, that’s very rude.”

“He’s good at that.”

“You sound fond, still.”

He nods. “I love Yoongi. Is my brother, in a way.”

“Well still. Thank you.” 

You look up at Namjoon. You’re sitting so close, shoulders pressed against one another. He smells like pine and bergamot, your favorite scent. It’s heady, awakening a foreign ache in you. Your heart speeds up as you lean into him just a little more, watching him through your lashes.”

“Don’t look at me like that,” he rumbles, voice deep. 

Your toes curl. “Like what?” 

“LIke you wanna do more than just thank me.”

“Maybe I do.”

“I know.” 

Ah. You start to pull away and turn your head, realizing that he’s not interested, but Namjoon catches your chin with his other hand, tilting you back toward him. Your heart stalls when he looks down at your mouth, then back up to your eyes. “I’ve known you for all my life. Not how I wanted, but I’ve known you nonetheless. But you haven’t had the chance to know me.”

“I want to. I feel like I have known you. Like I knew you were always there.”

“Is this what you want?”

This. Namjoon. Whatever is crackling between you. The thing that has sparked since the moment he caught you eavesdropping. It doesn’t matter that it doesn’t make sense. It doesn’t have to make sense. 

Namjoon makes sense though. The way his gaze softens when he sees you. The way he looms on the edge of your life, a silent protector. The way he could do so much damage but is soft instead. The way everything about him feels like the sun on a summer day, like a field of wildflowers in spring.

He must sense you tipping over the edge. His grip on your chin becomes firm and he tilts your face toward him, leaning down to press his warm, full mouth against yours. The effect is instantaneous. You melt into him, sighing as a feeling of belonging slots into place.

The kiss is chaste. Namjoon pulls away and your lashes flutter. You hadn’t even realized your eyes closed. His gaze is dark and half-lidded, his face close enough that you feel his breath. His lips have stoked a fire in you and you want more, you want to spill out the years of longing for something you didn’t know was there, for the sudden confirmation that he’d been there all along.

Surging forward, you press your lips to his again. This time, it’s searing, your mouth fierce as you push up off of the bed. Namjoon falls in your rhythm easily, hand leaving your chin to grab you by the waist and pull you into his lap.

Knees slotted on either side of him, you pour everything you have into the kiss. Your fingers card through his thick hair, silky strands sliding between them like you knew they would. His lips are soft on yours, mouth warm as you break the seal of the kiss with your tongue.

Namjoon lets out deep, throaty sounds. It coaxes the flame inside of you to a roar, tongue tangling with his. It’s wet and messy and a little impractical but you don’t feel embarrassed or nervous. It’s Namjoon. It feels like home. 

Pleasure tingles down your spine. Namjoon grips your hips, fingers digging into your flesh. It feels hot and your skin is burning up, static trapped between your chests where they’re pressed together. Your hips twitch, tentatively seeking friction in his lap. Namjoon responds immediately, pulling your hips toward him and letting you roll. 

Your mouths part but Namjoon doesn’t stop kissing you. You pant while he presses his mouth to your chin and jawline, tongue tough against the softness of your skin. “I’ve wanted you for so long,” he growls. You tilt your head back, letting him pepper your throat. “You have no idea.”

“I always felt like something was missing. I think it was you.”

Namjoon moans at your admission. The heat between your legs is almost painful. One of Namjoon’s hands goes from your waist to between your legs, cupping you. You gasp back bowing as he presses firmly, deft fingers providing mind-numbing pleasure.

“That feels good.” You fist the collar of his shirt and squeeze your eyes. You feel tense, color exploding behind your closed lids. “Don’t stop.”

“Whatever you want,” he whispers. He pulls you in close, fingers curling. Your hips buck and you realize it isn't enough. You need the barrier of clothes gone. You want it more than anything. “You know I’d do anything for you.”

“Yes.”

You do know. It’s second nature. You knew even that day in the street when you’d first seen him. Just like Namjoon knows what you want and need, land leaving the apex of your thighs to help you off his lap and onto the bed under him. 

There’s a confidence in his movements that makes the room spin. Long forgotten are the wolf attacks and Yoongi’s teeth around your ankle. Here, it’s only the rasp of your pants against your skin as Namjoon pulls them down. It’s only the heat of his skis as you yank on his tunic, desperate to feel him.

Namjoon does run hot. His skin is burning up as your hands explore his firm chest. He captures your lips again, sucking your bottom lip in his mouth as he spreads your legs open with a knee. You shake under his touch, equal parts eager and stimulated. 

He’s so, so gentle as he caresses your inner thigh. When he brings his fingers to your sticky center, you let out a pitiful whine. Namjoon pauses, fingers pressed to your swollen kiss as he laughs and breaks the kiss, forehead pressed against yours.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you pout, leaning your head up to bite his chin. “It feels good.”

He gives you a quick kiss. Once. Twice. “Good. I want to make you feel good.” 

Namjoon circles his middle finger lazily around your clit. Your feet press into the bed, hips pulling up off the sheets. It feels amazing, pleasure sparking in your stomach. “That,” you gasp. “I like that.” 

He dips his head down, attaching his mouth to your neck as he teases your cunt. You don’t have to say anything else, Namjoon’s inquisitive fingers learning what makes you squirm and sigh. You’re a mess beneath him, chest heavy, beats of sweat making your shirt cling to you.

You claw at it, pulling it away from you. Namjoon leans up and lets you take it off, eyes dipping as he smiles appreciatively. He combines the efforts of his fingers with his mouth, bending low to catch a pert nipple with his teeth.

“Shit!” you squeak, making him chuckle again.

His fingers circle your clenching hole, pussy leaking onto his fingers. He presses a finger in and you let out a long, quiet whine. The feeling of his finger pressing against your walls is perfect, your cunt clenching as he shallowing thrusts the finger.

Everything he does is perfect. He sucks at your nipple hungrily as he fingers you slowly, making sure to press up inside your cunt in a way that has you seeing stars. Your fingers tangle in his hair, unable to think about anything except his teeth scraping your sensitive bud and your pussy clenching around his finger.

Namjoon is attentive. The heel of his hand presses to your clit and he eases another finger in, slower than the last. He looks up at you, mouth slick with spit to watch your mouth fall open. You nod, urging him further, sound stuck in your throat. 

The wet squelch between your legs as he fucks you with his fingers is obscene. You like it though, driven by the fact that it’s Namjoon doing it. Namjoon who you saved. Namjoon who watched over you. 

You open your eyes and look up at him, cradling his face in your hands. His forehead is damp with sweat from the heat building in the little shack. His skin is flushed and his hair hangs in his face. You pull at his bottom lip with your thumb and he gazes at you, hungry and wild, pupils blown.

Greedy, you pull him to you. The kiss is more teeth than lips, the two of you panting. Your leg hooks around his waist and you nibble his bottom lip, hips rolling to meet his thrusts, an orgasm starting its ascent. 

“I want you,” you breathe against his mouth. Your lips are sore from arduous kissing. “Please.”

He kisses you. “Okay.”

It’s that simple. You ask for it and he gives it to you.

Namjoon retracts his fingers from your cunt. You feel the sudden loss, fidgeting as you wait. He makes quick work of his pants, kneeling on the bed and bringing his hands covered in your juice to pump his cock. You feel your eyes bulge at his thick length. 

He notices and grins, slowing his movements. You watch as his hand smears precum down his shaft, twisting lightly as he gets to the top, his thumb brushing over his dark tip. “You can take it,” he pants, grinning wolfishly. “I know you can.”

Instead of answering, you nod, lifting your hips eagerly. He hums, pleased as he lets go, cock bobbing heavily while he shuffles over and leans over you. He places his hands on either side of your head, arms flexing as he holds his weight to bend down and steal a quick kiss. 

You kiss back feverishly, one hand traveling between your sweaty bodies to grip his length, trying to stroke him the way he did. He sighs, breaking the kiss and dropping his forehead against your chin as a shiver ripples through him. You smile, continuing to pump him.

“Want to be inside,” he mumbles, barely coherent. 

You open yourself up more, gently guiding the blunt crown of his cock toward your trembling entrance. You hold your breath as his hips follow your hand, breaching your ring of tight muscles and pushing in. 

Immediately your muscles spasm and resist, overwhelmed by Namjoon’s girth. You blow out a long breath as he enters you so, so slowly. It’s heaven and it’s hell, it’s pleasure and it’s pain. Namjoon presses his mouth to you, tongue distracting you as he bottoms out, stuffing you full.

Nothing has ever compared to how stretched you are. He doesn’t move, letting your cunt twitch around him. He holds himself up with one hand, the other brushing up and down your side, squeezing bits of flesh comfortingly as you try to still your beating heart under him.

The pain fades. You get greedy, wiggling your hips back and forth experimentally to feel the way Namjoon’s cock rubs against your walls. He blows out air sharply, a half laugh before his hand drops down to your hip, pushing you down into the bed with his weight as he slides backward.

“Ohhhh,” you sigh, head lolling to the side. The pressure of Namjoon pressing you down as he sets a slow pace of fucking into you is just right. You close your eyes, letting him set a slow pace in silence. “Yeah.” 

Namjoon’s breath is unsteady. Every little sound he makes sets you on fire. You’re pliant beneath him as he picks up his speed, properly fucking into you. One of your hands reaches up to grab his bicep, nails digging in, the other shooting to his hand on your hip, squeezing his wrist. 

Everything feels right. Connected. Overheated. The air is so thick you think you might suffocate, sheets sticking to your balmy skin, toes curling as Namjoon’s cock hits that spot inside of you that drives you mad. 

Nothing but this matters. Nothing but knowing your wolf isn’t really a wolf at all, and that he’s been there all along. Just like you’d hoped. 

“Fuck,” Namjoon pants. “I never dreamed I’d have you.”

“I dreamed of you,” you gasp on a particularly hard thrust, your nails dragging down his arm. “I just didn’t know it.”

His mouth crashes to yours. “Mine,” he growls. “My savior, mine to protect.” 

Your orgasm spins like an out-of-control spool of thread, winding tighter and tighter. Namjoon can tell, chasing your orgasm with reckless abandon, throwing his gentle movements out the window and fucking you hard into the bed. 

The sounds and words coming out of your mouth are useless babble, your thoughts turning murky as that spool tightens so much inside of you that it bursts, unspooling and spilling out of you around Namjoon’s cock. 

You can’t even breathe as you come, feet kicking, nails digging into his skin, teeth clenched. Your heart beats in your ears, the only thing you can hear for a few seconds as you spasm, eyes clenched shut. You are vaguely aware of Namjoon coming shortly after you, your name ripping through clenched teeth as he does. 

There are a few minutes of nothing punctuated by your stilted breathing and rapid pulse. Finally, you blink, stars swimming in your eyes as you look at Namjoon, who hangs his head on your chest. You reach a hand up and run your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Your wolf. Somehow you’d always known it. Even when you thought you were crazy. 

Gently, Namjoon pulls out of you, fluid spilling between your legs. You don’t care, limbs too heavy to move. Your skin is still burning up from exertion and you roll your head to the side to watch Namjoon as he lays next to you, pulling you toward him. 

For a little while, it’s quiet. You listen to the beating of his heart, closing your eyes and breathing deeply. You’re content just to lay there feeling whole just for once. 

After a while, Namjoon sighs. “You have to go back eventually.”

“We.”

“Hmm?”

“We have to go back.”

Namjoon pulls away and frowns at your tone, eyes reading your face. Your mouth is set in a firm line and you look at him with all seriousness. “We’re not letting them get away with what the humans did to you and your family.”

“You want to help?”

“Yes.” You pause. “I think it’s what my father would have wanted. It’s what I want. Even if Yoongi bit me.”

“Yoongi will never bite you again,” he vows fiercely. Then, a little more gently, “But he… would be glad to hear your sympathetic stance. I’m glad to hear it, Red.”

“Good.” You snuggle closer. “You’re mine to protect too. And I will make them pay.”

For Namjoon. For your father. You’ll paint the village red. 

[strwbmei]

Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.

summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.

contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic

pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader

a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...

NSFW below the cut !

"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.

After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.

It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.

What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.

Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.

"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.

Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.

Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.

Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.

Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.

"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.

Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.

Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.

As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.

"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.

Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.

First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.

However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...

Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.

Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.

Oh. The collar.

"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.

You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.

"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"

With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...

Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.

╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr

[who-knew-a-sheep-can-write]

Bigby Wolf x Reader Headcanons (NSFW)

Oh ho ho, pookie >:)

I tried making this gender neutral

NSFW alphabets are gonna come back, idk how tho. I may make em Ao3 exclusive to promote it?

🌙 Just from looking at the disgruntled sheriff, you wouldn't even think of him being anything but a top- But he's very much a switch. As much as he loves dominating you in bed, he also loves relinquishing control and letting you take the reigns. He will never admit it, but he loves being spoiled in bed.

🌙 He started out absolutely sucking with aftercare. It wasn't because he didn't want to do it, it was because he never really had the experience. Bigby's a loyal dog and he's so ready to wait on hand and foot to take care of you when you're both spent.

🌙 Bigby loves to please you. Others, not so much. But you? He would drop everything just to satisfy you sexually if he could. Any way you want it, he'll do it: Orally, fingering, rough, soft, on the table or bent over the kitchen counter. You name it.

🌙 He has a not-so-little secret where he wants to fuck you on his desk. He wants to bat the papers and folders off, push you down and mount you. He knows you would be down for it, the issue is that his office is right down the hall from the Business Office and so many Fables - especially Snow and King Cole - walk past every day.

🌙 Condomns sadly don't really for Bigby. It's not that he doesn't like the use of them, they just don't seem to last; Especially if Bigby turns during sex. Not only that, but Bigby cums a lot, especially if you both haven't done it in a while.

🌙 He feels bad when you're both intimate sometimes and he suddenly wolfs out. It's always a shock to both of your systems, especially yours as you're not needing to accommodate the stretch of a bigger and girthier cock on top of him being a lot rougher than he usually is.

🌙 But fuck if he doesn't love it when you spur him on, knowing that you're also spurring on the beast that lies just beneath his skin. It drives him wild when you tease him to the point of him turning only to feign innocence before sauntering away, swaying your hips and throwing a glance over your shoulder like you're not about to get fucked into the nearest surface.

🌙 When he does fuck you as a werewolf, he loves if when you dig your nails into his beastly shoulders and tug on his soft fur. The pain from pulling just does something to him, sending little electric shocks right down his dick that's currently plowing into you. You can also earn bonus points if you call him a good boy.

🌙 He prefers to cum inside of you, some primal need because so satisfied when he spills his warm seed inside of you whether it's in your mouth or your sex. There are also times when he fights those urges and cums on your face or your ass. His favorite place is on your stomach so he can lick it and then kiss you.

🌙 He has a little thing that he's ashamed of, only because it's tied to something obvious from his past: Bigby loves it when you wear the color red. To anyone else, it would end with Bigby being berated because of what happened with Red Riding Hood (it's not from that though), but you don't do that. Instead, you often surprise him by wearing red underwear under your clothes.

🌙 He's not a very talkative person, the less the best really. But with you? He's talking a hell of a lot more. In the bedroom, he's always saying something; Encouraging you, complimenting you, begging for you.

🌙 He too loves to tease. Often pinning you to the mattress, calloused fingers gliding gently over your sensitivities as he speaks softly, telling you all about what he's going to do to you in his deep and scratchy voice. He loves it when you squirm and plead for him to shut the fuck up and start doing something to you.

🌙 If you have a thing for spanking, he totally stole the Crowd Control paddle from the overcrowded evidence room. He even patched up the splintered wood and re-wrapped the cotton grip. Although he would definitely prefer his hand, he does like the noises you make when you get the paddle to your poor behind.

🌙 Is it any shock to you that his favorite position to fuck you in is doggy style? He always gets an earful when you tease him about it afterwards, scoffing playfully and rolling his eyes before he states that he can find better positions to fuck you in. Mating press is another one of his favorites, especially when he wolfs out.

🌙 Bigby isn't the type of guy to really like to inflict a lot of pain. Spanking and choking are great and all, but he won't really push past those borders into something deeper unless you both really talk things out. He's already a rough and strong person, one wrong move and he can seriously hurt you and he would never forgive himself for it.

🌙 He's an ass man for sure. If you ever walk past him in tighter pants, he can always be caught staring right at the curve of your ass. He doesn't blush and look away and try to deny it, instead, he gets a shit-eating grin and fully accepts he was caught before offering that he can take a break if you want to teach him a lesson.

🌙 He's not a fan of roleplaying. He's pretty awkward socially and he would often fumble words or straight-up forget you both were doing so in the first place. It often gets funny when you would say something sexually weird and Bigby would instantly drop character and say the most Bigby thing imaginable.

🌙 Bigby has the strength to pull you into whatever position he wants you to be in. Even when you've climaxed for the umpteenth time and he's still ramming into your poor hole, he's easily holding you up by your hips, shoulders or waist until he's spent himself inside of you.

🌙 He's not the type to smoke after sex. Instead, he often wraps one of his big muscular arms around your waist and drags you as close as possible against his chest and indulge himself in your scent. He insists that you always smell better when you climax.

🌙 He doesn't drift off right away, often kept up by his racing thoughts and heart. He tries to make some light conversation while you're both snuggled close, but he leaves you to rest if you drift off. It's often hard sometimes to calm down if the beast inside wanted to come out to play but he didn't let it.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook/Platonic OT6

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Intro]

The wolf pretending to be the grandmother, just to later swallow the poor red riding hood whole- is he attempting to gain your trust as well just to feast on your flesh later, once he gets hungry for a meal?

Tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Human?Reader, Platonic!OT6, strangers/enemies to lovers, fantasy AU, drama, angst, fluff, romance, suggestive themes and eventual smut, Alpha!Jungkook

Length: 2k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

A/N: how many different wolf-JKs can bonny write without it getting boring challenge

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

You've always been somewhat drawn into the forest far away from the cities, even as a small child.

You remember the family trips you'd take, camping out underneath the trees, your father showing you how to make a fire, and how to set up the tents. You always enjoyed weekends like these, even though they were incredibly rare. Your mom and dad had separated early in your life, and at some point, after your father had passed away, you simply never went back to the forest ever again.

Your mother, and stepfather would always warn you of the werewolves out there instead. 'There's a reason the government gave them those forests to roam around in.' She'd always scoff. 'So they'll stay away from us humans. So they can't hurt us.' She'd warn you.

Werewolves are beasts, hiding inside a human's body. Fierce animals, with no humanity inside them whenever they'd shift into their other forms. Their bones would break loudly, blood would spill and minds would change- and once they're shifted into their wolf forms, they'd eat people's children who'd wander too far from their families, never seen again after getting lost in the woods.

Nowadays, you hardly believe those tales.

You do however fear werewolf men- because statistics prove that they don't seem to have much control over themselves. Normally, just like your mother, you'd wear simple jewelry of silver to protect yourself- something many humans do, especially those that work with wolf people a lot, just to protect themselves. But you seem to have an allergy against that type of metal- it doesn't burn you or anything- at least it hasn't yet. You usually just get really nauseous and weak from wearing any silver- so you tend to not buy anything that contains the shiny metal.

Your mom said it's nothing too problematic. Just that you should stay away from it.

The birds chirp above you, some larger one's flying off while the small one's stay behind, curiously watching you as you sit in the grass, a blanket spread out that you sit on. You're grown up now. An adult, no longer really talking to your mother or your stepfather as much. Instead, you've created your own little life- something quiet, and easy, and simple. Nothing exciting, nothing adventurous.

You don't like things like that.

Excitement always brings a certain sense of danger with it, after all. And you've had enough dangerous experiences in the past to last you a lifetime, after all. You don't need more of that.

You'd rather stay like this- all by yourself, eating a simple prepared meal in the forest, surrounded by nothing but nature. Because nature doesn't look at you weirdly. Nature doesn't judge you, or ask you things that make you uncomfortable to answer. Nature just sees you as what you are- A simple human, not out here to harm anybody.

You suddenly spin your head around when a tree branch snaps in half behind you- and suddenly, there's a young man dressed in casual clothes, piercings in his face and very telling amber eyes looking at you, his hands lifted in front of him palms open to show he's no threat.

"I'm sorry- that was super rude of me to approach you from behind. Sorry." He sheepishly admits, before he walks a bit closer, hands in the pockets of his jacket now. "Where's your pack?" He asks, and you stiffen up.

"I- I don't have one." You deny. "I'm human." You admit to him, and he tilts his head a bit in question, as you watch his eyes seemingly glow for a split second while he- smells the air?

"Really? I could swear I'm smelling a wolf.." He wonders more or less to himself, before he shakes it off. Maybe someone had come by here earlier, and he's simply catching that scent instead of yours. "Anyways, I was just passing by and thought to check up on you. This is my pack's territory, so I kind of always keep an eye out for people who wanna cause trouble." He charmingly explains, shrugging his shoulders easily.

To think that that guy.. is an apparent 'beast' is kind of.. hard to see, really. He looks pretty innocent with his round eyes and soft facial features, hair a little wild in slight curls on his head. And you're sure, he looks more like a golden retriever happy to see another person, than a wolf.

A leader, at that.

"Your pack?" You ask, and he nods, almost proudly beaming at you.

"Yep!" He chirps, walking a bit closer now as he notices you not being weirded out or anxious. "Well- kind of. Namjoon is the head-alpha, I'm kind of his stand-in at the moment until he's back from his trip." He shrugs, pointing to your blanket. "Can I.. sit down with you? I promise I'm not gonna eat you like some red-riding-hood kind of situation." He jokes, and you scoot over a bit, letting him sit down next to you- though you make sure to pull your backpack a little closer.

"I have a silver knife in my bag anyways." You threaten. That makes his eyes widen a bit.. fearfully? "So don't try anything." You threaten, and again, he lifts his hands.

"I won't, promise." He promises, before he looks at you again rather curiously, leaning in a little. "But- do you have wolf-friends maybe?" He asks. "I swear you smell like wolf. Kind of. A little- it's confusing actually." He mumbles, and you scoot away from him at that. "Hey no- sorry, I didn't mean to come off as weird. I know you humans tend to be a bit wary of us here." He deflates, and you almost feel a bit sorry for him.

Almost.

"I don't have wolf-friends." You tell him. "And I'm sorry I trespassed on.. your territory. I'll make sure to go somewhere else next time." You say, but he shakes his head.

"Oh no, please!" He denies. "It's completely chill, really! Like I said we only don't want people wrecking stuff and causing trouble. Like, you know- parties and stuff. They always leave behind their trash and shit, and that's just awful." He shrugs, making you agree.

"I won't do that." You say. "Leaving my trash here, or wrecking stuff." You clarify, and he smiles.

"Thats good." He beams, getting a bit more comfortable. "So, what brings you here?" He asks, genuinely wondering. There's a clear sign at the entrance of the forest that this is werewolf territory after all- humans don't usually even go for a walk here at all.

They stay clear of this area, and usually, Jungkook likes it that way.

"I don't know, honestly." You admit, pulling your legs closer to yourself, hugging your knees. "I just kind of.. like it here." You shrug, and he watches you for a second, and you feel like his amber eyes stare right through you and into your very soul.

Like he can see something you didn't even know was there.

"Me too. I was born in these woods though, so that might explain why I'm so attached to it." He chuckles, no longer looking at you as intensely, and quite honestly, he seems like a nice guy to be around. The perfect balance of confidence, boyish-charm and the right pinch of gentle masculinity- if he wasn't a werewolf, you probably would've been a lot more open towards him.

But every time his gaze catches yours, you're reminded of what those golden eyes mean.

The wolf pretending to be the grandmother, just to later swallow the poor red riding hood whole- is he attempting to gain your trust as well just to feast on your flesh later once he gets hungry for a meal? You won't let it get this far. You're not a dumb child he can just trick by pretending to be a friend.

"I'm Jungkook, by the way. Alpha wolf, but I promise I've got myself under control. Even got a citizens' pass if you wanna see?" He proudly grins at you, and you can't help but look at him like you don't trust his words- so he grabs at his cotton zip-hoodie, patting down the pockets before he pulls out a black simple wallet, showing off the plastic card with his identification info, a small ID photo of his right next to it. He looks young in it- but a lot more serious. "There you go. Got an 85, makes me top 1% of all wolfbloods in the country." He shows off, shoulders high as he lets you examine the card.

It's true. His IC-score is a 85, IC standing for Instinct Control. You've never seen one this high to be honest- but then again, you don't have any wolf-friends or acquaintances. His name is Jeon Jungkook, he's born in the year 1997, and his ID states he's an Alpha*. You're not sure what the little asterisk on that means- but you also don't wanna pull the plastic card out of its compartment, so you just leave it at that.

"You're older than me." You say as you give it back to him. "Not by much, but a little." You simply mumble, and he smiles, happy that you now seem to relax a bit more. Suddenly, the first drops of rain begin to hit your head and shoulder- reminding you that you wanted to go back long ago to not get caught in the small shower the weather forecast had foretold.

"Oh wow, that's gonna bring a lot of rain." Jungkook notices, looking past you at a wave of dark clouds approaching, when the first thunder rumbles. "You should go back fast if you wanna stay dry." He offers, getting up to help you fold your blanket and back your backpack again.

"I actually hiked here." You sigh. "So I'm gonna get wet anyway." You shrug, and he looks at you a bit concerned.

"You can also just sit it out at my packhouse." He offers. "I promise you, we have multiple houses there. You can stay in one of the smaller ones just by yourself if you don't wanna be around the others." He explains, and you look at him, before glancing back down the steep path you'd taken from the city far away up here where the woods stand proudly on the high hills.

There's no way you'll stay dry on your way back down.

Then, you look back at him, his honey-colored eyes seemingly glowing underneath the darkening skies above. A warning from nature, maybe, that this young man holds a beast in his heart- a beast you've been warned about for years never to get too close to.

But there's something else.

Something that makes you nod at him, before he begins to grin and take your backpack for you, leading you through the shaking trees and treaded down paths through his woods, birds already flying towards their nests as well, chirping their warnings to others as well of the changing weather.

You're not sure why you keep holding his hand even after he's done helping you step over a large root of a tree bursting through the ground. Maybe because it's warm, and the wind now brings a chilling cold.

Maybe because you just don't want to get lost and be eaten like the children in the nursery tales of your mother.

Or maybe you just hold it because you've never held someone's hand before without them complaining about it.

He turns to look over his shoulder presumably to check if you're still keeping up fine-

Golden eyes shining like little fireflies as the woods become darker the deeper you go.

[aikoiya]

DPxDC - Grimm Romance

Why did it only just cross my mind the amazingness of Anger Management in which Jazz is a Tol Werewolf??

It's Little Red Riding Hood & the Big Bad Wolf!!

I'm such an idiot!

I can practically hear Jason commenting on how tall she is only for Danny's influence to peek through with "All the better to tease you with."

There's a beat of silence as they both process her words. At the same time, Jazz apologizes profusely while Jason demands to the universe how he freaking missed that??

She snorts as he bemoans that he can't bring her to dinner with the family now because they'd ALL find out & NONE OF THEM would let him live it down!

Dickwing & Replacement especially!!

Though, now that I think about it... Suddenly, most of my DP ships now have a distinct His & Hers Halloween Costume theme to them.

Werewolf Jazz x Jason (Big Bad Wolf & Red Riding Hood)

Danny x Sam (Hades x Persephone)

Tucker x Valerie (Pharaoh x Amazon)

It practically writes itself!

DP Character HCs Masterlist

[lovelykhaleesiii]

The Wolf & the Stray Girl. Chapter #1 The Grieving.

PAIRING: Werewolf!Aegon ii Targaryen x fem!Reader [Little Red Riding Hood AU]

WORDS: 1942.

SUMMARY: Nestled in the outskirts of a desolate village, it was known that the woods were a dark, fearsome place not to be ventured. Yet something enchanting lived amongst its shadows, you were certain. And some may call it your bold willingness or others, your naive curiosity, would ultimately uncover the truth.

WARNINGS: mentions of stalker tendencies, mentions of murder/intrusion.

A/N - apologies for the long wait, I took some time away from writing. I sometimes feel my place in this fandom is non-existent. I realise now, that it does not matter. I came here to write for characters I love... that is what I intend to do. thank you for your patience, to those that continue to support me x

The long, treacherous road that laid ahead of you, the further you would venture into the dark, enchanted woods was not one to be taken lightly. Although, far from harm's way so long as you remained stagnant in your pathway: not befallen to whatever temptations lurked in the shadows beyond the winding, cobblestoned thoroughfare. Your final destination was intended to be a quick visit to your beloved grandmother, with the hopeful, pleasant exchange of goods. Her cinnamon cookies were divine, especially when and almost always freshly baked.

Despite having travelled this familiar road many times before, both with the thorough guidance of your father and your now presumed late elder sister, it never ceased to feel eerie. A nauseating sensation in the deepest pit of your stomach would always churn and writhe with suspicions that curious, watchful eyes lingered over your every move, your every trail. A terrible suspicion that some of these eyes intended to harm you.

The harrowing, cold tone of your father’s stern words had been etched into your malleable mind, like a carving in stone.

“Stay on that path, girl… Or we have lost you already.”

Your father had grown much old and weary of late, since your elder sister had been declared missing. He scouted relentlessly day and night himself, into the woods. Only to return empty handed, with proof of his exhausting endeavours saturated across his seldom face. His eyes once so lively that gleamed bright with joy: a man that could once smile with his eyes, now only distraught with the strained look of grief and despair.

It took you countless attempts to persuade him otherwise, to allow you to venture the journey yourself, until he finally agreed, although with great reluctance. He knew you were much more diligent and obedient than your elder, always adhering to orders without the temptation to cross a boundary. Your father trusted you, however he did not trust whatever creatures laid abed in the lush dark green canopy of the woods.

“Stay on the path, Y/N, my dearest… Or else I cannot bear to live a life where I lose you too.”

The luminescent indigo pigment of the petals had immediately caught your attention. Your active eyes would wander with marvel, fleeting from the defined path that laid ahead, to beyond the stretch of woods.

"Ocean tears" You breathlessly whisper, your eyelids widening with intrigue as you lust over the rare sight. Ocean Tears were a sacred commodity to come by so naturally: used for medicinal and curative remedies, your mind immediately soared to the sickly, malnourished state of your father. The toll of his insomnia, poor appetite and overall dejected state had been taxing to his health, since the disappearance of your sister. He was not the once formidable, strong man he had once been in the previous years...

The treasure itself was only a few short paces off the pathway itself. Your mind began to scatter, trying to outweigh the risks against the pros. Despite wearingly trying to convince yourself to stay on path, desperate to strain every brain fibre to obligate your body to adhere to your father's wishes, you unconsciously felt your body pacing forward, reaching the very edge of the elevated path. Your eyes darted from each side of the vast forest vicinity: delicately scanning every inch, crevice and shadow of the engulfing green and wooden shrubbery [with the Ocean Tears being the only source of colour in the portrait].

"Forgive me, Father," You utter beneath your breath, before taking a careful leap forwards. Now both feet firmly planted on the soft, soiled grown, the earth beneath felt somewhat alleviating. Having spent a few solid hours, with nothing but the rigid, uneven rocky stones beneath your feet, walking uphill and down, this mundane sensation was a relief like no other.

Only a few seconds had need passing, as you slowly began to regain your instinctual senses, realising the daunting extremity of your decision. Without wanting to spare precious seconds more, you hastily pace forward towards the vibrant flower, basking in the alluring scent, as you push aside the straightened flaps of your crimson red hooded cape. Delicately you begin to pluck at the petals, one fallen strand landing into the base of your woven, wooden basket.

Disciplined in your actions, your once whole and lively senses had once again melt away, unaware of a figure creeping up from the shadows.

"It seems someone has lost their way from the path..."

The unthreatening tone was low and husky, and yet its sudden volume shattering the vast, swallowing silence was frightful: dire enough to freeze your entire being in time.

Your fearful eyes met the immediate, still gaze of the strange man: a handsome, ethereal looking one, nonetheless. With moonlight tinged hair, short, silver strands almost blinding in the radiating beams of sunlight, his unfaltering lilac orbs were encapsulating. Conflicted to stare, yet unable to maintain constant contact. Although there was some distance between you both, you could tell he was a few, solid inches taller than yourself, his physicality sturdy, and robust appearing. There was no doubt, if he caught you in his midst, it would be meaningless to fight agains him. He practically oozed might. Although his facial features softened, almost angelic like, the healed yet evident scars slashed across his pale skin, made him look rugged: proof that he was no stranger to brute savagery.

He took a cautious, slow step forward, almost hesitant to, yet determined. In rhythm, you took a step back instinctually, causing him to take no further step closer.

"I wish not to harm you, I only wish to speak to you."

Although the nerves rattled you, his tempting words had somewhat puzzled you.

Who was this stranger? Had he been watching you from afar this entire time? Why the desire to speak?

"And why would I do that? Do you think of me as some naive prey? You are nothing but a stranger to me, what makes you think I will take your word?"

His endearing glare remained fixated on you this entirety, although you struggled to reciprocate, its enticing nature was captivating. His stout chest heaving generously, before exhaling a defeated sigh.

"You have no reason to trust me, Y/N... Although I have been watching you from the distance, since the moment you departed. I know where you sleep, I know where you seek solace... If you think you can wave me off, just know, I will be lingering. Your scent-"

Once more, he takes a solid pace forward, although this time with a dark, menacing tinge in his eyes, as he looms his head down to your eye level. Another pace further, as you try to maintain the distance between, taking a step back, as you firmly grip your basket's carved handle.

"W-What are you? W-Who are you?" You shamelessly stutter, your skin growing cold, sensing a drop in temperature in your body.

"I could smell you from miles away: that intoxicating scent. First hit me, when you first ventured these woods, that year ago. No matter how hard I tried, and I had tried to fight against it, yet I could not bear to ignore it any longer. From the countless sleepless nights, and long days, I had no choice... And seeing you now... You did not disappoint."

"G-Get away from me!" You recklessly shout: your yells could either result in aid working in your favour or against, drawing more unwarranted attention from dark figures. Your head paced backwards and forwards, from where the man stood ahead of you, inching in closer and closer, as you desperately tried to move yourself back to the footpath.

"I am no ordinary man, Y/N. I am Aegon. And you... You have no ordinary fate."

"Do not speak of my name again, fiend! Leave me alone!"

As you hastily turned your back, taking a risky lunge forward, planting your unsteady foot on top the solid ground of the pathway. You had only turned momentarily, and yet as you resumed your stance once more, you were faced with only the empty, glooming green of the forest, and its chilling silence. A few solid minutes had passed, your attention spanning across the shrubbery, inspecting every inch, for an ounce of proof that this Aegon, remained close by.

Although your body felt rigid and tense, sensing the hot blood coursing through your vessels. Your dense breathing felt heavy and restricting across your chest, as you tried to regain control.

Without a second to spare, you resumed your stroll, although with greater speed. Your mind fled to the echoing, harrowing voice of your father's words, and the guilt began to stir. You rebelled against his advice and the repercussions were close to fatal.

As your mind pondered over Aegon's words, your body carrying itself with each heavy step: your only intent was to make it in one piece...

The sight was unlike anything you had ever seen... The dark, dried traces of blood smeared across the walls and homily furniture, the broken pieces of wood and stained glass scattered messily across the floor, each careful step, an audible crunch beneath your weight. All details pointed to an intrusion, you had conceded. Your broken voice hopelessly calling out for your grandmother, as you slowly paced across the hallway, eyes peering across the vicinity for a remote sign of her. And yet, only silence had responded.

The hot tears swelling in your eyes had blurred your vision, as you took in each inch and crevice of the household. The day had been a harrowing one indeed, and to be met with this tragic fate, did no justice to ease your mind. As you crept towards the end of the hall, the familiar door to your grandmother's cosy chamber slightly remained unlock, only the disappearing sunlight lurking through. As you steadily pushed over the door, creaking in its hinges as though the house had not been vacant and unkept for years, you were met with a horrifying sight indeed. A pungent, horrid smell wafted through your nostrils, as you captured a glimpse of her unmoving, blood curdling body across the flood board. Suddenly, your vision had darkened into an abyss, the sight disappeared.

"Y/N-" The call of your name was unforeseen, yet its voice sounded eerily familiar. The hand that was stationed over covering your eyes, was sudden yet brought some relief, sparing you the gruesome sight. Your hand clutched at your heart, above your tender breast, as you felt your body being handled, gently guided to turn towards the direction of the voice.

"A-Aegon-" Eyes widening in disbelief as the hand released its clutch over your eyesight: you felt numb towards his presence as the over-looming sense of grief drowned you, otherwise. Your father had suffered enough anguish thus far, you could not bear to bring him the burden of more sorrowful news.

What has become of your family's fate? Had some curse plagued your family? Had some ill-minded person wished nothing more than to bestow such affliction unto you all?

"Y/N, dearest- You need to come with me, right now-"

With no caution to his actions, his warm hands, its raw texture rough felt against your soft palms, as he held your cold peripherals tightly. Reassurance oozed from him, as his large hand further reached over, tenderly brushing aside a fallen, misplaced strand of hair from your face, before his thumb caressed the fallen tear away.

You knew better than to show an ounce of trust towards Aegon, and yet, you felt somewhat protected in his presence.

"Y/N, please-"

taglist [for this series] - @urmomsgirlfriend1 @backyardfolklore @heavenly1927 @snowprincesa1 @trifoliumviridi @fulltacoparadise @qyburnsghost

general taglist - @chompchompluke @fan-goddess @malfoytargaryen @bibli0thecary @m1ndbrand @connorsui @elegantsplendour @randomdragonfires @sylasthegrim @arcielee @s-we-e-t-t-ea @sahvlren @aemondtargaryensrider @watercolorskyy @hypnos-daughter-certified @aegonslawyer

Aegon ii taglist - @who-told-you-this-was-butter @f4ll-for-you @amiraisgoingthruit @bucknastysbabe @jawline-of-steel

credit for divider - @/firefly-graphics

[peachdues]

Kinktober 2023 update

Werewolf!Sanemi x Red Riding Hood!Reader NSFW

In the Netherwood (Part I) will be uploaded tomorrow.

CW: NSFW preview below the cut • Monster fucking • werewolf fucking • Sanemi half-transforms mid-fuck

Get ready, you dogs (though he won’t fuck her until Part II).

Sanemi’s thrusts stuttered as his body suddenly seized. His head was thrown back, the tendons and muscles in his neck rigid with strain, while his chest heaved, struggling to take a breath.

The fingers digging into your hips tightened and you cried out at the sharp prick of nails sinking into your soft flesh. At the sound of your voice, Sanemi’s hands pulled away to reveal fingers now with long, curved nails.

His claws.

A choked, strangled noise that was somewhere between a groan and a howl ripped from Sanemi’s throat as he shuddered violently above you. The tremors sent faint vibrations right to where the two of you were connected, sparking new yet short-lived waves of pleasure rippling through your core. you mewled at the loss of stimulation as the huntsman stilled once more, desperately wanting him to start moving again to ease the burgeoning friction between your legs.

Your hips involuntarily twitched up against his and Sanemi’s head snapped down, his attention now wholly focused on you, writhing below him.

The first thing you noticed were his eyes.

No longer did they reflect the soft lilac that you’d come to find comfort in; that regarded you with a curious gentleness that often contrasted with Sanemi’s gruff and scarred countenance.

Now, the eyes that watched you from above had faded to a startling silver that glowed nearly as bright as the fat moon which hung just outside the mouth of the den.

But his eyes were nothing compared to the fangs that had formed on both his upper and bottom rows of teeth.

Sanemi’s incisors had lengthened, the upper pair extending nearly to his lower lip. The teeth tapered out to sharp points, glistening in the moonlight with a promise of violence to anyone who might find themselves at their mercy.

He had warned you that it would be difficult to keep himself from shifting while he mated you, but you’d assumed that the presence of your cloak would keep him in his human form. It seemed, however, that the magical protection afforded by the Ruby red wool draped around your shoulders, still could not fully temper the beast within.

Especially when that beast was in the thick of his heat and claiming you as his mate.

Still embedded deep within your heat, apparently oblivious to the growing friction that caused you to squirm, Sanemi’s nostrils flared and his eyes dropped to the sides of your thighs. His pupils contracted, a deadly glint igniting within his silver pools, as he beheld the thin rivulets of blood which had gathered and crested beneath the marks left behind by his claws.

A growl, low and dangerous built in his throat at the sight of the crimson, but the arm wrapped around your waist tightened in silent apology.

His free hand rose to cup your jaw and he squeezed, forcing your mouth to fall open. Sanemi leaned over you, his tongue falling out of his mouth where you could see he’d gathered some of his saliva, and he let it drip past your parted lips. You accepted the fluid, warm and slightly sweet, as it pooled in your mouth until all that connected his lips with yours was a single, clear string of saliva that broke as Sanemi spoke once more.

“Swallow,” his voice was gruff and tinged with an animalistic snarl.

You obeyed, and Sanemi huffed in approval, his eyes lowering once more to your legs, waiting.

The skin around the marks left behind by Sanemi’s claws grew warm and then tingled before the sensation quickly faded away. Curious, your hand fluttered to your outer thigh, fingers seeking out the tender, bleeding skin. With a soft gasp, you realized all that remained on your flesh were drying flakes of your blood.

Your eyes flew to Sanemi’s in surprise, and the wolf nodded.

“Healed,” he confirmed, tongue darting out from between his lips to lick alongside your neck. “Healed.”

@monster-october-kny-2023

[chaikachi]

Little Red Riding Hood, The Big Bad Wolf, & The Silver Bullet

Aka I did an Oscar as The Little Prince analysis and now I wanna do one for Ruby's allusion in honour of the 10th Anniversary.

I know most if not all of us are familiar, but I'm still going to start with a summary.

Little Red is a story about a young girl in a red cloak who is sent into the woods at her mother's behest to bring baked goods to her sick grandmother. There, she meets a malicious wolf that asks her many questions, to which she answers all truthfully and without hesitation. The wolf takes this information and uses it to beat the girl to her destination where he then swallows her grandma whole and disguises himself in the woman's clothes. There he waits for the child to arrive and come closer so he can swallow her up too.

There are actually two popular versions of this story with different endings that we often look back to.

In Perrault's story, there is no happy ending. They're both eaten up, the wolf is content. The end. But in the Grimm version, there is an additional character... the Huntsman (aka the woodsman). He hears the wolf snoring after its meal and ends up cutting the beast open & saving the victims. Then, with the help of Little Red Riding Hood, he kills the wolf before it can do anymore harm.

All in all, it's a story about childhood innocence being lost, learning not to trust strangers, and being mindful to always follow the correct path. For if you stray too far, you may lose track of time, invite unwanted danger, or find yourself lost.

In RWBY, we have some very clear allusions here since it's the basis for so much of the show as a whole:

Little Red - Ruby Rose

The Mother - Summer Rose

The Grandmother - Maria

The Hunstman/Woodsman - All Three of Them

The Wolf - Salem and her Grimm (but ESPECIALLY The Hound)

They're all pretty self explanatory.

Ruby has the red cloak, her og trailer is clearly inspired by the tale, she loves baked goods, she's referred to as "Red" and "Little Red" by Torchwick & Cinder. She's also a huntress. And, by and large, her entire arc is about losing that childhood innocence and the view that life "is like a fairytale" as well as struggling with what the "right path" to follow is.

Summer is the mother (baker of cookies) and also the huntsman (slayer of giant monsters). The battle axe being her weapon choice alludes well to the alternate name, Woodsman, as well.

While Maria as the grandmother makes the most sense. Another silver eyed huntress that becomes a mentor figure for Ruby.

And while Salem, her war, & the Grimm (that are all emblematic of that loss of innocence) can absolutely symbolize the wolf... There's a reason why I want to focus on The Hound.

All three previous characters are connected by a very specific common denominator: Silver Eyes.

And the hound is no different.

Just another huntsman... but one devoured by the malice of a canine. And, if Ruby's theory is right, that's the same fate that Summer met as well.

And if you think about Silver Eyes specifically... What is one of the most famous lines from the original fairytale?

"My, what big eyes you have grandmother." "The better to see you with, my dear."

Which, when applied to the grimmification of SEWs, is HAUNTING.

Terrifying when you remember "Woah... you have silver eyes". Also thanks to Behind The Scenes content, that Ruby's hair design was always meant to "be a bit wolf-y". And that since Volume 4, Salem has been interested in capturing Ruby alive... I am WORRIED ABOUT HER.

Some interesting things about silver though that ARE worth noting...

1. "In folklore, a bullet cast from silver is often one of the few weapons that are effective against a werewolf or witch."

2. "The term silver bullet is also a metaphor for a simple, seemingly magical, solution to a difficult problem."

3. "In the Brothers Grimm fairy-tale of The Two Brothers, a bullet-proof witch is shot down by silver buttons, fired from a gun."

The lyric "Yeah I'm a girl but I'm also a gun" from Triumph really tells us point blank (lol) why Ruby is so important to this war against Salem, huh.

I'm gonna end this meta on a fun little easter egg; a hidden fifth character allusion to the original Red Riding Hood fairytale: The Woods.

Now I know what you're thinking, the woods aren't a person, they're a location. But they're INCREDIBLY important to the story.

Overall, the woods are the world outside of the cabin that Little Red grows up in. Whenever she travels beyond it, she's liable to meet all sorts of horrible tragedies and monsters. But I want to talk again specifically about The Hound & just where Ruby first meets them: Atlas.

Or, more specifically, Ironwood's kingdom.

For those unfamiliar, while Jimmy's main allusion is the Tin Man from Oz, his last name gives us a hint to another subtle allusion: Járnviðr. Aka the Iron Wood of Midgard in Norse Mythology (a mythos that's been alluded to a lot in RWBY).

Whiiich if you look at a stanza (40) in the infamous Völuspá, a historic poem which is chalk full of Norse myths, you get the following passage:

In the east sat an old woman in Iron-wood and nurtured there offspring of Fenrir a certain one of them in monstrous form will be the snatcher of the moon

A poem that talks all about the Biggest Baddest Wolf of the Norse pantheon, Fenrir... who is the offspring of a powerful Witch...

and is destined to eat the moon...

All within the Iron Wood, a character Ruby spends an entire volume contemplating on whether or not she can trust...

And the moment she does finally tell Ironwood the truth? The secrets she was keeping? The woods become unsafe, the witch and the wolf appear, and everything else falls apart. Resulting her and her team lost and very far from home.

Say what you want about analyses like these but CRWBY knows what they're doing, okay?

[cookieeks-art]

Finally! New art! I’m sorry for not posting for a while, I’ve honesty just not have any art to post really, mostly just sketches and one thing I want to post alongside another piece I’ve yet to finish. But now I have something! And it’s Red riding hood!

I actually drew like two preliminary sketches of this idea before sitting down and starting on this drawing, the things that changed from the first ones to this one was mostly the pose, and the decision to have the ears and tail not be “real” (I’ve got real attached to the monster au design where she always has the big wolf ears and tail, but I decided that I need to allow her to go without those for some instances, especially when she’s just in the standard movie universe. But I also didn’t want to not draw them so we ended up with this, which I think I also did for an early drawing for her back in 2020).

Any way, hope you enjoy werewolf gf.

(ID in alt and under cut)

[ID:

A digital drawing of Red riding hood from red shoes and the seven dwarfs. She’s posed learning over a pink flower in her hand, smiling brightly at it. She has a pair of floating ears above her head and tail floating behind her, she also notably has large dark claws. The background is a star filled sky, with a gibbous moon placed behind her head, creating a halo like effect. In the lower left corner is a signature reading “Cookieek”.

End of ID.]

[milfjagger]

halloween recs 2024 🎃

more halloween/horror recs for you all!!! these are all movies that meet at least two (if not all) of my "halloween movie" criteria, which are as follows:

set in autumn or october specifically

features halloween decorations, or typical halloween activities such as pumpkin carving, trick or treating etc

features elements of the supernatural, especially typical "halloween" characters like ghosts, witches and vampires

gothic, scary, spooky or creepy

comedic or campy

not all of these are horror; not all of the "horror" movies are scary in any quantifiable way. movies that (i think) are suitable for people who have a fairly low horror tolerance will be marked with an asterisk (*). movies that are (generally regarded as) not scary at all will be marked with a double asterisk (**). ENJOY!!!

🎃 ghosts & haunted(?) houses 🎃 oddity (2024) cobweb (2023) the black phone (2021) terrified (2017) crimson peak (2015) lake mungo (2008) the orphanage (2007) the devil's backbone (2001)* the others (2001) ghostwatch (1992) candyman (1992) lost hearts (1973) the haunting (1963) the innocents (1961)

🎃 curses, witches & demons 🎃 longlegs (2024) the first omen (2024) late night with the devil (2023) talk to me (2022) smile (2021) & smile 2 (2024) the dark and the wicked (2020) halloween party (2019)* pyewacket (2017) the devil's candy (2015) the witch (2015) the blackcoat's daughter (2015) the babadook (2014) sinister (2012) the house of the devil (2009) wake wood (2009) the ring (2002) the blair witch project (1999) ringu (1998) the craft (1996)* the serpent and the rainbow (1988) hellraiser (1987) suspiria (1977) the omen (1976) the exorcist (1973) & the exorcist iii (1990) the blood on satan's claw (1971) the devil rides out (1968)* black sunday (1960) night of the demon (1957)*

🎃 vampires, werewolves, zombies & monsters 🎃 lisa frankenstein (2024)* evil dead rise (2023) the ritual (2017) evil dead (2013) dog soldiers (2001) ginger snaps (2000) & ginger snaps 2: unleashed (2004) bram stoker's dracula (1992) it (1990) pet sematary (1989) pumpkinhead (1988) the lost boys (1987)* fright night (1985) re-animator (1985) & bride of re-animator (1990) gremlins (1984)* the howling (1981) an american werewolf in london (1981) evil dead movies (1981-1992) dracula (1958)* nosferatu (1922)*

🎃 dark fantasy 🎃 gretel & hansel (2020) the hallow (2015) red riding hood (2011)* coraline (2009)* pan's labyrinth (2006)* the spiderwick chronicles (2008)** sleepy hollow (1999)* edward scissorhands (1990)** the juniper tree (1990)* the witches (1990)* labyrinth (1986)** the company of wolves (1984) something wicked this way comes (1983)*

🎃 spooky anthologies 🎃 v/h/s 99 (2022) v/h/s 94 (2021) the mortuary collection (2019) tales of halloween (2015) trick 'r' treat (2007) creepshow (1982) & creepshow 2 (1987) the monster club (1981)* black sabbath (1963)

🎃 non-horror & barely-horror 🎃 the munsters (2022)** frankenweenie (2012)** corpse bride (2005)** scooby-doo (2002)** & scooby-doo 2: monsters unleashed (2004)** practical magic (1998)** halloweentown (1998)** casper (1995)** hocus pocus (1993)** the nightmare before christmas (1993)** the halloween tree (1993)** death becomes her (1992)** ernest scared stupid (1991)* the addams family (1991)** & addams family values (1993)** beetlejuice (1988)* the witches of eastwick (1987)* the halloween that almost wasn't (1979)** kenny & company (1976)** the paul lynde halloween special (1976)** the rocky horror picture show (1975)** the adventures of ichabod and mr toad (1949)** bud abbott and lou costello meet frankenstein (1948)** betty boop's hallowe'en party (1933)**

🎃 wacky, weird & so-bad-it's-good 🎃 NB: i cannot vouch for the quality of these movies. actually some of them are borderline unwatchable but i did personally enjoy them. real halloweeners will understand malignant (2021) the barn (2016)* 31 (2016) deathgasm (2015) the dog who saved halloween (2011)** dead silence (2007) the covenant (2006)* house of 1000 corpses (2003) casper meets wendy (1998)** the people under the stairs (1991) troll 2 (1990)** warlock (1989)* hack-o-lantern (1988)* killer klowns from outer space (1988)* ghost fever (1987)** trick or treat (1986)* the worst witch (1986)** ghoulies (1984)* halloween iii: season of the witch (1982) witch's night out (1978)**

[vasito-de-leche]

Hi, I just wanted to tell you that your r1999 ocs are pretty and I love their designs too! Especially people in the fandom are pretty creative for making their r1999 ocs and I was wondering if do you have a tips for making an r1999 oc? I'm quite hard time making an oc from r1999.

Do you need them to make an oc based them irl people, history, myth or perhaps a fiction characters from another story? (For example, baby blue is based from Alice in the wonderland in the book, ig?)

Some characters are pretty unknown who their based of, for example like X, Pavia, Click and the other characters.

OH!! OH OKAY OKAY I LOVE TALKING ABOUT THIS OKAY

As far as I've seen, not EVERY character is based on a single actual figure, whether fictional or historical.

Yes, we have John Titor who is. John Titor. But some characters have PLENTY of different people that they reference in relation to their themes, others represent broad groups, movements or genres like horror, the hippie movement. You have Dikke who has many, many different references to figures of justice. Mondlicht, who seems to represent all three characters from Little Red Riding Hood--the girl, the wolf and the hunter. You have Blonney and Horropedia who reference a shitload of different things and actors and works within the horror genre.

With the examples you've given, X does not seem to reference a person but the concept of Rube Goldberg Machines. Pavia seems to reference the Werewolf of Pavia. Click? No clue actually, I haven't looked into him much, so I don't know what else he could reference beyond WWII.

Baby Blue is indeed a reference to Alice in Wonderland, but her 01 Story "Fantasy is in Vogue" clearly state that Baby Blue is NOT the Alice that discovered Wonderland. The rest of her lore and i2 Garment also imply that Baby Blue is more akin to the figure of the Red Queen as opposed to Alice.

My point is: if you'd like to make a character then you shouldn't feel like you have to pick a single historical figure. You can pick ANYTHING that interests you and to have your OC embody and represent--mythology, folklore, fantasy, artistic movements, music, architecture, history... LITERALLY ANYTHING. OR LITERALLY NOTHING!

The whole point of the characters in R1999 is that they're a small piece that represents the era they come from. That's why they're considered art pieces to be preserved by UTTU Magazine. This is why we have Sweetheart, who is based on Marylin Monroe but is also a biting critique on Hollywood.

And you can even take this a step further and toy with this idea, like I did with my own OCs!

Spina Venatores is meant to represent the people that are truly left behind and displaced, people that you once knew but weren't lucky enough to meet Vertin nor the Foundation, to drive home the idea that Vertin cannot save everyone no matter how hard she tries.

The vulnerable that were taken advantage of by Manus Vindictae, a group that represents extreme isolation and supremacy, who lack any meaningful connections other than their own elitist groups. So I wanted my OCs to feel extremely disconnected--that's why all of them don't look like they belong in any single era but straight out of a different game, why they lack details that could connect them to their original times, and why the themes and concepts they reference are vague and timeless. I'm also big on bones and dark topics, so I shoved a SHIT ton of those into them, easy!

I always suggest that people grab their favorite character from the game and connect their OC to them, makes it easier to establish a connection within the universe and find themes to start with. You like Druvis III? Easy, your OC could be a childhood friend she had in her homeland before she and her family moved to America. Or a noble from a family that had business with the Weyerhaeuser company. You like Madame Z? How about an OC who is an assistant for her?

If people are too shy to make direct connections like this with a canon character, then you have plenty of organizations and groups--Zeno, Laplace, the Foundation, the School of Discipline, Manus Vindictae, Apeiron, and who knows what else is out there.

You can even study the lore and find places to fill in with your OCs. That one tidbit from a few days ago that revealed theres a few other terrorist organizations aside from Manus Vindictae? Make your own terrorist organization! Have you seen the white and red enemies from the Mintage stages? The Rock City enemies and Little Finger Peter? Make an OC that belongs there!

It always helps to have a solid starting point if you can't pick an era or anything to use as a base for your OC! And don't be discouraged if you come up with something and R1999 suddenly drops a character with similar or near identical themes--take advantage of that! Your OC has the same arcanum skills as another character? Make them fight about it, make them study buddies, find ways to engrave your OC and make them relevant to the world in their own ways.

It happened to me with Pavia! So I just made my OC and Pavia be insufferable and hate each other! Easy!

If you're looking for resources, I have a post here--it's a little outdated since I know there's a lot more new things to add, but it's a good place to start! It also helps to study the characters you like and pick them apart to understand how to better make an OC!