THANK YOUUUUU MOST OF EM WERE OLDDD ONES I ALREADY WROTE LOL ill work onnnnn evan's pinterest board now, beta read eloise fic then HOPEFUYLYLYLYL post it today :3
update on selene's pinterest board: going shit. why tf would a female werewolf be skinny and short while male werewolves are big and buff... just say yall hate buff women SMH
currently making my oc's pinterest boards teehee! most were already finished from ages ago, just added selene, eloise, and yuna in!! and also fixed up roman and siolis' boards... yikes they were shit
trying to hold myself back from opening up requests when im already stuffed with deadlines, finals, and the two fics im working on...
social life? hah... what social life? yesterday we had a big ole family gathering (as most arabs do) and i just zoned out the entire time bc not only was it bright as shit (bright lights give me headaches) but the sounds of kids screeching and stomping only made it worse GAHJSDHIUFGH
Can we get a grim and Gen backstory soon? Or maybe Queen Nia and Roman?
unfortunately Gen is a currently retired character, so i wont be writing for our dear gen </3 HOWEVER!!! i do think she or one of the other retired characters might return some day :)
as for the others, hopefully yeah! however it mightttt take some more time than usual, ive got a few other fics waiting to be posted hopefully soon!
i have another Roman fic that's halfway done tho, after the eloise bathory fic it would be the next thing posted, and then the 6th chapter of Murder Mystery!
Synopsis: (Two reposts in a row lol) Moving to a quiet countryside town was supposed to be simple, until you caught the eye of Selene Varrow, a towering, brooding local woman who completely blindsides your senses. While you melt into the intoxicating, protective warmth of her embrace, you remain completely blind to the dark, predatory lineage running through her veins. She is a patient hunter suppressing a wild and hereditary hunger to claim you, but she has already decided you are hers.
PAIRING: Selene Varrow x GN!Reader.
WC: 9,038 Words.
Warnings: Stalking, murder and gore, hunter prey dynamics (reader unaware), gaslighting, physical terror, reader unaware of the wards being put on them.
Selene Varrow was a force to be reckoned with, a woman who always got what she wanted, when she wanted. Strength and social influence shaped her world, ensuring that things bent to her will, and she intended to keep it that way. Yet, despite her formidable presence, Selene was well-liked. She genuinely cared for the people of her town, upholding her family’s legacy as a police officer with unwavering dedication. She had sworn to protect and serve, and by all accounts, she did just that. A good person. Truly.
And yet… something about her was undeniably off.
She was just like her father. A man who had appeared in town one fateful night, seemingly out of nowhere, only to fall swiftly and deeply in love with the sheriff at the time, Selene’s mother. Those silver-blue eyes of hers, sharp and predatory, always seemed locked onto something unseen. Her footsteps, eerily quiet no matter how heavy the boots she wore.
The unsettling sharpness of her canines, just a little too pointed to be natural. And most unnerving of all, she towered over nearly everyone—only a few inches shy of her father’s staggering height. Even among outsiders, they were an anomaly, both of them built like warriors, their powerful physiques defying logic. Even after months without training, their strength remained, as if untouched by time.
The townspeople knew the Varrow family well. Selene’s parents were highly respected for their tireless work in keeping the town safe, and Selene herself had earned admiration long before she donned the badge. As a child, she defended her classmates from bullies; now, at twenty-two, having finally conquered the police force’s grueling entrance exam, she had stepped fully into her role. With her mother now retired, all eyes were on Selene—to see if she would live up to the legacy left behind.
And by the looks of it, she was well on her way.
Then came the new neighbors, you and your family, settling a bit farther from the heart of town but still part of it nonetheless. Unlike the longtime residents, you knew nothing of the Varrows or their significance to the town’s safety. That is, until your mother caught sight of one Selene Varrow and, much to your dismay, became far too enthusiastic about the idea of you making friends—or worse, finding romance so soon after your move.
The second time you saw Selene was at the town’s day market, a far more peaceful and ordinary experience compared to the night market—a place you had foolishly ventured into against your older brother’s warnings. He had experienced its horrors firsthand on your very first night in town and tried to spare you the same fate, but in classic younger sibling fashion, you dismissed his caution with a defiant ‘what does he know?’ and went anyway.
Like an idiot.
You came home that night flustered, mortified, and subjected to your brother’s relentless laughter. You still refused to think too hard about the perverse nature of what you witnessed.
But that wasn’t important right now.
What was important was the striking woman standing at a stall across from you, Selene Varrow, tall and brooding, her basket filled almost entirely with meat and little else. You could see why. Even through the loose fit of her baggy shirt, her physique was clearly overpowered—built, toned, and gleaming slightly under the midday sun.
And somehow, despite yourself, you couldn’t look away.
Would be nice to be held in those big arms…
The thought blindsides you so fast you nearly choke on air. You snap your gaze away, shaking off whatever strange spell had momentarily overtaken your brain. But before you can fully recover, your mother, ever the meddler, catches sight of Selene as well, and of course, wastes no time embarrassing you.
"Look! A girl your age, honey! Go on, introduce yourself! You never know what could happen. Maybe you two will fall in love—"
"Ma, come on!"
You hiss the words through clenched teeth, but she merely waves you off with an infuriatingly knowing grin before moving on. At least she eventually drops it. She claims she still has a few things left to buy and tells you to wait for her by the entrance. It’ll only take a moment, she says.
Liar.
You’ve been standing there for an hour. And when you finally cave and sit down, another thirty minutes drag by, each second stretching longer than the last. People keep glancing at you as they pass, their expressions shifting between mild amusement and outright pity. Shit, this is embarrassing.
You curse whatever higher power decided you had to be the one dragged along today. Why not one of your brothers? Your mom had four other kids to choose from, so why is it you? You barely knew anything about living out here, and being the youngest (and most thoroughly pampered) had ruined you for anything remotely resembling hard work. You weren’t built for the heat of the countryside, let alone its relentless labor.
And yet, here you were. Suffering.
You exhaled sharply, shoulders slumping, your patience hanging by a thread as the weight of the sun bore down on you. It felt like you were melting, your body sluggish from the heat, beads of sweat collecting at the nape of your neck and rolling lazily down your spine.
With a pathetic attempt at relief, you hung your head low, trying to blow cool air onto your flushed face—an effort as pointless as it was desperate. The air was thick, warm, clinging to your skin like an unwelcome embrace, and you swore the longer you sat there, the more your soul threatened to leave your body.
Then, suddenly, a shadow passed over you.
Hope surged through your chest, and you all but snapped your head up, eyes bright, your suffering instantly forgotten at the prospect of salvation. Your mother had returned!! Finally! You could already picture yourself flinging yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her in uncharacteristic appreciation, peppering her with dramatic kisses in gratitude for saving you from the slow, agonizing death of being boiled alive under the merciless countryside sun. You would forgive her for taking an eternity, for leaving you here to suffer while she disappeared on some mythical shopping spree.
But the face that met your gaze was not hers.
It wasn’t even remotely familiar.
The relief in your expression died an awkward, painful death as realization settled in. Standing before you was her—the woman from earlier, the one who had momentarily bewitched you with her towering frame and unshakable presence. The one you had, in a moment of weakness, imagined being wrapped up in. Held by, caged by, those ridiculous arms of hers.
You nearly keeled over from secondhand embarrassment at the thought.
Selene Varrow stood still, utterly unreadable, her silver-blue eyes scanning you with something that could have been vague amusement or complete indifference. It was impossible to tell. Up close, she was even more imposing, her sheer size making you feel as though you were being dwarfed by some ancient sentinel rather than an ordinary woman. You were fairly certain that, unless she lifted you Simba-style into the sky, she would never look up at you. The idea alone made your stomach churn.
She said nothing.
Instead, she reached into the basket slung over her arm, her movements slow, deliberate.
You stared, half entranced, half alarmed. Your mind, overheated and slightly delirious, began spinning ridiculous scenarios at lightning speed. Was she about to pull out something sinister? Was this how it ended? Had she come to put you out of your misery, to spare you the indignity of sitting here like a lost puppy waiting for a mother who had clearly abandoned you for good? Would she strike you down where you sat, ending your suffering with one swift—
She pulled out a can of soda.
Ice-cold. Covered in beads of condensation. Glistening in the sunlight like a gift from the heavens.
She held it out to you, silent, waiting.
Your gaze locked onto the drink, momentarily stunned. The can practically called to you, as if whispering in a soothing, divine voice: Drink me, my child. Replenish your strength. Rise again.
Your throat tightened with emotion. It was, without a doubt, the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
Without a second thought, you reached out and greedily snatched the soda from her outstretched hand, fingers curling around the chilled aluminum as if it were a lifeline. You barely restrained yourself from holding it to your forehead in sheer relief. “This is for me, right?” you asked, already cracking the tab open before she could answer. “Thank you. God this looks like heaven—seriously, you’re a lifesaver.”
The first sip was divine. The cold liquid slid down your throat like salvation itself, wiping away the oppressive heat and momentarily tricking your body into thinking you had been blessed by the gods themselves. You let out a long, exaggerated sigh of satisfaction, your muscles relaxing for what felt like the first time in hours. If Selene had requested your firstborn child in return for this favor, you would have signed the contract right then and there—no hesitation.
And yet, she remained silent.
She merely nodded, her expression unreadable as she watched you with the kind of patience you weren’t sure whether to find comforting or unnerving. Now that she was standing this close, looming over you, you could finally get a proper look at her.
She was striking.
Her auburn hair was cropped short, an effortlessly tousled mess that looked like it had been styled by the wind itself. You noticed the remnants of an old dye job—purple streaks done in a peekaboo style, now faded into a pale, washed-out color. It had clearly been a while since she last touched up her hair, and for some reason, that tiny, almost mundane detail made her feel even realer. She seemed less like some untouchable force of nature and more like someone you could reach out to.
But it wasn’t just her hair that caught your attention.
Her face was as sharply defined as a statue’s, all hard edges and smooth planes, her features chiseled enough to cut through bark. Her skin was a deep, sun kissed tan, no doubt the result of years spent working under the open sky. You could almost picture her out in the fields, sweat glistening on her brow, sleeves rolled up to her elbows as she carried something absurdly heavy without breaking a sweat. Of course she was naturally built like that, she probably hadn’t needed to set foot in a gym a single day in her life, lucky...
But her eyes.
That was what truly stole your breath away.
A piercing silver-blue, the kind of color that felt almost unnatural, like something out of a legend. They were sharp, unyielding, trained on you with quiet intensity, and for a brief moment, you wondered what it would be like to meet that gaze for too long, to stare until she either softened or punched you for being a creep.
Your gaze drifted a little higher, catching on the scar that cut across her left brow, trailing down just far enough to touch the beginning of her eyelid. It was thick but short, an old wound that had clearly healed well, yet it had left its mark. The way the scar tugged at her skin caused her left eyelid to droop ever so slightly, giving her a perpetual look of quiet calculation, as if she were constantly watching, always thinking, never letting her guard down.
Something about it only made her look even more… striking.
You swallowed thickly, realizing you had been staring a little too long, your thoughts running far too wild for someone who had just met this woman.
Get a grip, you creep! You damn near yelled at yourself.
And yet, some irrational part of you was already hoping you’d run into her again
You barely managed to tighten your grip before the soda nearly slipped from your fingers. The condensation dripped onto your palm, ice-cold against your sweat-warmed skin, but it wasn’t nearly enough to ground you—not when your entire world had suddenly narrowed to the woman standing before you.
She was watching you.
Not just looking. Watching.
Her silver-blue eyes held an eerie sharpness, as if she were peeling back layers of you with just her gaze, dissecting every subtle shift in your posture, every nervous twitch of your fingers. The intensity made your pulse stutter, an unfamiliar weight pressing down on your chest. You had been staring at her all this time, openly, shamelessly, but now that she was returning the favor, you felt exposed.
And then, just as effortlessly, she shattered the silence.
"Selene."
The name cut through the air with a quiet authority, her voice smooth yet firm—deep in a way that sent something curling low in your stomach, completely unbidden.
You swallowed thickly, momentarily thrown off. "What?"
She moved with an unhurried confidence, lowering herself onto the sun-warmed concrete beside you, one arm resting loosely over her bent knee. Even seated, she still towered over you, her frame exuding a raw, restrained strength, like a coiled spring, waiting for the right moment to release. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, the scent of sunbaked pavement and the faintest trace of metal clinging to her clothes filling your senses.
"My name’s Selene." A pause. Her gaze didn’t waver. "I work down by Varrow’s Metalworks. You heard of it?"
It took a second for the words to register. Varrow’s Metalworks.
Oh.
The realization clicked into place almost instantly.
Your family had purchased quite a few things from there. Some sturdy furniture, well-crafted tools, things built to last. You distinctly remembered the shop’s owner, a kindly older man with a build much like hers, though softened by time. He had mentioned a daughter once, in passing. Now that you were seeing her up close, the resemblance was impossible to ignore.
"You’re his daughter," you said, more a statement than a question.
Selene gave a slow nod. "Yeah. My old man runs the place."
And somehow, just like that, the conversation happened.
It started small—basic, polite. You asked about her work, she answered in short, precise sentences. She asked how you were adjusting to town, you gave vague, carefully edited responses, omitting certain… night market-related horrors.
But somewhere along the way, the conversation began to unravel, stretching into something easy, fluid.
Selene spoke in a way that was direct, measured. She wasn’t one for unnecessary words, nor did she waste energy on filling silences that didn’t need to be filled. But she listened, listened so intently that it made your skin prickle, as if every offhanded comment, every absentminded remark you made, was being quietly stored away for later.
It wasn’t that she was emotionless.
No, she simply wore her emotions differently.
She didn’t laugh at your jokes, but you caught the smallest shifts in her expression. The faintest twitch of her lips, the brief, subtle exhale through her nose. She didn’t smile, but her focus never wavered, never drifted, never gave you any indication that she wanted to be anywhere else.
She was enjoying herself.
And somehow, that was enough.
The sun had begun its slow descent by the time you realized how much time had passed. The market’s once-bustling energy had dulled into something quieter, the steady hum of conversation and distant footsteps blending into white noise around you. Yet neither of you made any move to part ways.
The air between you was comfortable, a little charged with something you couldn’t quite name, but comfortable nonetheless.
And for the first time since moving here, you thought that maybe, just maybe, this town wasn’t so bad after all.
That cozy realization was cut short when Selene suddenly reached down, her heavy boots clicking against the pavement as she scooped up your shopping bags in one sweep. When you instinctively lunged to grab them back, your fingers brushed her arm, and in a heartbeat, her free hand locked around your mid-section , anchoring you right against her side.
Selene remained utterly unfazed by your frantic squirming, her grip as unyielding as steel. You may as well have been a mere inconvenience—a cat flailing helplessly in the arms of someone much stronger, effortlessly keeping you in place. No matter how much you twisted or tugged, her hold didn’t loosen, not even slightly. The worst part? She wasn’t even struggling. Her strength was casual, natural, like holding you in place took no more effort than breathing.
Oh god, cuddling her would be a nightmare... Why would you think about that? Ugh...
“H-Hey, wait! What about my mom? She’s gonna be worried!”
Your voice cracked slightly as you scrambled for any excuse, grasping at logic like a lifeline. Yet Selene moved as if she hadn’t even heard you. Without a word, she took your bags and slung them onto the motorcycle’s handles, her motions efficient, practiced. If you had grabbed flimsy plastic bags, they’d have torn the moment the engine roared to life, scattering your groceries across the road. But luckily, today of all days, you’d chosen the eco-friendly route, opting for cloth bags instead.
Selene swung a leg over the motorcycle in one fluid motion, her movements smooth and assured, like she’d done this a thousand times before. With one hand still wrapped firmly around your mid-section, she gave a single, decisive tug—one that sent your body lurching forward against her with an embarrassing yelp. Before you could so much as think of resisting, she lifted you effortlessly, not even breaking stride as she dropped you down in front of her onto the seat.
Oh.
Oh no.
You froze, suddenly hyperaware of the situation. Of the firm press of her chest against your back, of the way her arms settled on either side of you as she gripped the motorcycle’s handles. You were effectively caged in, trapped between her body and the machine beneath you. Heat radiated from her, her warmth pressing against you in ways that made your mind short-circuit, unable to process anything beyond the feeling of her presence.
Selene didn’t say a word. Didn’t even acknowledge your flustered state. The only sound was the deep, mechanical purr of the motorcycle as she started the engine, the vibration rumbling beneath you, sending an involuntary shiver up your spine.
Then, she shifted.
You felt the weight leave one side of your body as her left hand disappeared from your peripheral vision. There was a soft rustling, a quiet grunt, and before you could even turn your head to see what she was doing, you felt something press down onto your head.
A helmet.
You blinked.
Selene had just… put a helmet on you.
Slowly, as if in a daze, you reached up, fingers brushing against its cool, sturdy surface. She had adjusted it snugly, ensuring it fit properly before retracting her hand. The realization settled in your gut, heavy and strange, had she planned this? Had she expected to take someone with her today and prepared accordingly?
Or…
You swallowed.
Had she prioritized your safety over her own?
The thought sent a sharp jolt through you, equal parts unsettling and… something else. Something warmer.
Because if that was the case, if she really had placed you above herself, even for something as simple as a helmet—then Selene Varrow, the tall, brooding woman you had barely just got to know, had just done something unexpectedly, alarmingly romantic.
And that thought alone was enough to make your heart hammer against your ribs.
Slowly, you turned your head, hesitant, hoping—praying that Selene wasn't actually risking her life for yours. But as you tilted your head to the left, the weight of her presence shifted. Before you could even process what was happening, she rested her head gently against your left shoulder, her breath warm against your skin.
"Yer ma’s gonna be fine. I’ll have someone tell her about us, don’t you worry, darl'."
Her voice, low and soft, sent a shiver skittering down your spine. It wasn’t just her words; it was the way she spoke them, like she was wrapping you in a blanket of certainty, her breath just a whisper against your ear. Goosebumps prickled across your skin as you felt the soft rustling of her hair against your neck, the lightest touch of her presence making you aware of just how close she was. She didn’t even have a helmet on! How could she be so carefree, so reckless?
Your heart was racing, your mind scrambling for something to say something, or anything to do but before you could even think of a response, the motorcycle's engine roared to life, the force of it vibrating through your entire body. You were pressed back against Selene’s hard chest as the bike shot forward, a sudden burst of speed that knocked the air from your lungs.
Oh my god, why am I getting turned on?!
This was not the time. You were being kidnapped—or rescued, if you wanted to be optimistic about it, but instead of fear, all you could feel was this strange rush of heat. Were you really that easy to manipulate? Give you a cold can of soda, look at you with those intense, silver-blue eyes, and bam!!—Kidnapped. Just like that.
As the bike swerved around a corner, Selene’s hand was suddenly on your midsection, firm and sure, holding you in place. It wasn’t the first time she’d done it< each turn was met with her hand securing you, a protective gesture that only made you feel more trapped. The feeling of her palm pressed against your side was almost too much, your body instinctively reacting to her closeness, the heat of her touch igniting a flood of embarrassment that you didn’t know how to contain.
You prayed to whatever gods were listening that Selene didn’t notice how flustered you were. The wind stung your face, making your cheeks burn, and you hoped to god she couldn’t feel the frantic pace of your heart. She must be used to this, the speed, the power of the motorcycle. On the other hand, you hated motorcycles. They were death traps, and every second you spent on one only solidified that belief.
The vibrations of the engine rattled your bones, each bump in the road sending a jolt of discomfort through your body. The wind whipped around you, howling in your ears, and you could already feel the cool bite of it settling in your lungs. You were almost certain that by morning, you'd wake up with a sore throat, maybe even a cold, but that thought was drowned out by the overwhelming sense of dread and, strangely, awareness that this was exactly where you didn't want to be.
But it didn’t matter. The world blurred past you, a whirlwind of shapes and colors, and all you could focus on was the firm grip of Selene’s arm around you, holding you so tightly you were sure she could feel the frantic thumping of your heart.
And yet, as much as you hated this, as much as your mind screamed at you to get off this damn motorcycle, something in you couldn’t deny the way your body responded to her presence. The way her warmth bled into yours, the steadiness of her chest behind you, and the deep rumbling of her voice, which continued to echo in your mind.
You couldn’t have been more relieved when your feet finally touched solid ground. The world felt stable again, the ground beneath you a welcome anchor after the chaotic ride. Had it not been for Selene’s strong arms, you were certain you'd have ended up kissing the dirty earth. But you weren't about to admit that. No, you wanted to keep some semblance of composure and avoid presenting yourself as the terrified mess you truly were. No way were you going to break down in front of her.
You straightened up, trying to regain a shred of dignity, despite the trembling in your legs.
"So, how'd ya like it?" she asked, her voice rough and casual, though there was an undertone of amusement in it.
"Gr-Great..." You forced the words out, but they came out far weaker than you'd hoped. You didn’t sound confident at all, and more like a small, excited child who had just been let loose in a candy store. Your voice cracked under the weight of the adrenaline still coursing through you.
You saw it then, the tiniest smile, the curve of her lips just barely lifting as she looked at you. Oh my god, she’s laughing at me. You felt the flush of embarrassment creep up your neck, the heat of it spreading across your cheeks. You felt ridiculous, a total loser, no different than the spoiled brat from the city that you feared you must look like to her. A moment of weakness, and she must be thinking how amusing it was, how laughable you were.
What you didn’t realize, what you couldn’t possibly know, was that Selene wasn’t laughing at you. Not in the way you thought. No, the amusement on her face wasn’t at your expense—far from it. In fact, she found something strangely endearing in your innocence, in the fact that you were so sheltered, so unaware of the world beyond your bubble.
It excited her. The thought of showing you what real life felt like.
She had a certain darkness inside her, something raw and primal. A part of her, a very large part, was eager to devour the naive little lamb that was you. She could almost taste the sweetness of corrupting you, of drawing you into a world where the rules didn’t apply, where nothing was forbidden. She had a thing for breaking the innocent, for tearing down the walls of naivete, an urge she didn’t often give in to, but with you? Oh, you were perfect for it.
Selene had a wild side, something untamed, like a werewolf who preferred to chase after the smaller, easier prey. And you? You were small in her eyes, an easy target, the kind of person who didn’t have a survival instinct strong enough to resist her.
But she knew better than to rush things. She wasn’t about to force anything on you before you were ready. And besides, it wouldn’t be satisfying for either of you if she did. She wanted to savor the moment, let things grow naturally. She could be patient, and she was.
It took months of getting to know each other, of patiently building something real, before the two of you finally made it official. Slowly, carefully, she worked her way into your life, her presence growing more intoxicating with each passing day. And when you finally started dating, when it became real, Selene knew it was only a matter of time before she would show you just how much more fun life could be—on her terms, of course.
But for now, she was content to let the anticipation build.
It was one late night, the air still thick with the residual hum of adrenaline from the long ride on the motorcycle. You had begun to warm up to the experience, the exhilarating wind whipping past you no longer felt as terrifying. You could trust it now, because you trusted her—Selene’s strong, steady presence behind you, her muscular arms wrapped around your waist like an unspoken promise of safety.
The strange anxiety you once felt was slowly being replaced by a new kind of thrill, a rush that surged through your veins every time the engine roared to life. You’d even gone and bought another helmet, though Selene had never worn one in the first place. She had only ever carried it with her in hopes of bumping into you one day, hoping to take you on a ride along. And as fate would have it, everything had fallen into place, just as she’d wanted.
As you leaned back against her, breathing in the scent of her leather jacket and feeling the warmth of her body, a strange thought crossed your mind. How had you never noticed her before? How had she somehow been watching you all this time without you ever knowing? It made sense when you thought about it.
Selene had been admiring you from the moment you and your family had first stepped into town. She had kept her distance at first, but always made sure she was somewhere nearby, always subtly positioning herself where she knew you would be. And each time, she tried her best to catch your attention, to seem intriguing and impossible to ignore. She had been so careful with it, walking the fine line between appearing desperate and staying composed. But for some reason, you hadn’t approached her. You hadn’t even tried to casually brush past her.
And that irked her. But in a way that only made her feelings for you grow even stronger. It was both frustrating and oddly endearing. How cute, she thought, that you couldn’t even bring yourself to take the first step. How much she wanted to show you what she was truly capable of. It was almost as if she could sense your hesitation, your fear and rather than backing off, she only wanted you more. You were hers, and she’d prove it to you, slowly and surely.
Now, as you lay in her arms, drifting in and out of sleep after what was undoubtedly one of the most thrilling nights of your life, Selene had plenty of time to reflect. The cool night air brushed against her skin as she gazed down at your slumbering form, a soft smile playing on her lips. She had done it right this time, hadn’t she? She’d finally gotten what she wanted. You were here with her, wrapped up in her arms, safe in her embrace, feeling no fear. But something tugged at her, a realization that came slowly but surely.
Maybe I should’ve been the one to approach you first, she thought. To assert myself as the one who takes control.
That’s how things were done in her family, after all. Her father had never hesitated to assert his dominance, and it was with that same forceful nature that he had taken her mother as his own. Selene could still remember the stories her father told her of how he had looked when he first laid eyes on Stacy Lock, her mother, now Stacy Varrow. There was something raw and animalistic about him, the way he had stalked her mother from the woods, the way he had never backed down, no matter how much Stacy had resisted him.
William Varrow had lived most of his life in the wilderness, far from civilization, but when he’d seen Stacy for the first time, something inside him had shifted. She was, to him, the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth, and there was no way he would let her slip away. Stacy, however, had been cautious. She had liked him, yes—but she had also seen the dangerous glint in his eyes, and she wasn’t ready to give in just like that. She refused him, tried to keep him at arm’s length.
But that only made him want her more.
Selene could only imagine how it had played out in her father’s mind. He had been enraged, his pride wounded, and so, in his primal fury, he’d taken matters into his own hands. He had forced his way into her life, refusing to take no for an answer. He hadn’t cared about consent or anything like that, only that Stacy would be his. And in the end, she had become his, but not without a cost. It had been a messy, violent courtship, one that had left scars on them both.
Selene wondered, briefly, if she should have followed her father’s example. Maybe she should’ve been more forward, more insistent. She could see it now, the way she might’ve forced her way into your life, made you her own with the same intensity her father had used on her mother. But she also realized something else.
She knew you weren’t like her mother. You wouldn’t have accepted it. Not like that.
No, she couldn’t treat you the same way her father had treated her mother. It wouldn’t have worked for you, not when you were still so fragile, still so innocent.
So instead, Selene waited. She was patient. She would let things progress at their own pace. She would make you see what she could offer. In the meantime, she’d keep you close, savor the feeling of having you just within her grasp. And eventually, when the time was right, she would show you the kind of life you could have with her. A life of adventure, of excitement, of something more than the safe, predictable world you had always known.
And when that moment came, she would have you, body and soul.
She can do what her father did still... Like clockwork, William Varrow would make himself an inescapable force in Stacy Lock’s life. At first, it was subtle, an eerie sort of inevitability. The sudden appearance of a metalworks shop, its iron-wrought sign gleaming under the town’s midday sun, his name carved into it with a kind of permanence that suggested it had always been there, waiting. Then came the house, the one right next to hers.
The previous owners, an elderly couple who had lived there for decades, were found dead in their home. A wolf attack, the townsfolk whispered, shaking their heads in pity, though the details were… strange. Their throats torn open, their bodies slashed apart in a way that no ordinary animal could have managed. But no one questioned it too much. These things happened in the woods sometimes, didn’t they? The next thing Stacy knew, the house belonged to William. And so did the space around her.
It wasn’t just his presence, but the way it wrapped around her, suffocating and unshakable. He was everywhere, just close enough that she could feel the heat of his eyes when she turned a corner, just near enough that his voice, deep and knowing, reached her ears no matter how much she tried to ignore it. And the town loved him. They sang his praises like he was some kind of blessing in disguise.
"Come on, Stacy! He’s got a good job! He’s strong! And he only has eyes for you—don’t you see how lucky you are?"
They nudged her, grinning, their excitement infectious and heavy, as if this was all some grand romance unfolding before them. As if William hadn’t orchestrated every moment of it with the patience of a predator. Stacy was young. Naïve. And when he got down on one knee in the middle of the town square, with every expectant gaze pinned on her, the weight of their approval pressing into her chest like a vice—what choice did she really have?
Saying yes sealed her fate.
The honeymoon was brief, more an illusion than a reality. The first few nights, she could almost believe she had married an ordinary man. He was attentive, devoted in a way that made her skin crawl if she thought about it too much. But then the full moon came, and with it, the truth. Her husband, the man in her bed and the man in her home, was something else entirely. A beast of flesh and claw, a thing that split itself open under the moon’s glow and emerged monstrous. And Stacy? Stacy was his.
But time wore the sharp edges down. William softened, his hunger tempered by the predictability of routine, by the weight of family. Seven children. Seven strong, healthy children. But not all of them were human. Stacy loved them all, of course she did. How could she not? But the ones who took after William—the ones who bore his wildness in their blood—she could never look at them without remembering the truth of what their father was. And she couldn’t love them quite the same way she loved the two who had been spared.
Selene never forgot that.
She saw the exhaustion clinging to her mother like a second skin, the way Stacy’s hands lingered longer on the two normal ones, the way she held them just a little tighter, a little closer. The way she looked at the rest of them and saw him.
Selene refused to have that kind of life. She refused to be another version of her mother—tired, trapped, resigned.
She wouldn’t settle for someone forced to be with her. She wanted a partner who wanted her back, someone who chose her. She wouldn’t demand love; she’d make it impossible for you to not give it to her.
And at first, she thought she had you right where she wanted. She had been watching you from the moment you and your family set foot in town. How could she not? You were different. You weren’t like the others. She made herself a fixture in your life, just like her father had done to her mother, always in the same places as you, always hovering just close enough for you to notice. And you did notice.
But for some reason, you never approached her.
You never brushed by her accidentally on purpose. You never let your eyes linger just a second too long. You acted as if she were just another part of the town’s scenery.
It made her furious.
It made her soft for you.
It made something deep inside her ache in a way she didn’t understand.
Now, with you nestled against her, your head tucked into the curve of her shoulder, fast asleep after what was undoubtedly the most exhilarating night of your life, riding on the front of her motorcycle, clutching her waist, trusting her to keep you safe, she knew she had been wrong about her approach.
She should have done this from the very start.
She should have taken her place in your life. Should have shown you that she was the one you needed. Should have pressed herself into your world in a way that made it impossible for you to even consider living without her.
Like her father had done.
Except not really. No, not exactly like him.
Selene had watched her mother over the years, seen how Stacy had settled into her fate rather than embraced it. If Selene had to use her claws to carve her place in your heart, she would but she’d make sure you wanted it.
And maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t even have to try that hard.
Because, god, she had seen it. That day. The first time you really looked at her.
You had been miserable in the heat, fanning yourself as you waited for your mother to finish talking to her father, your leg bouncing with barely-contained impatience. The sunlight had made your skin glow, sweat pearling at your temples, catching in the hollow of your throat. You looked so small in the heavy summer air, so unbearably delicate. She had watched, utterly enraptured, as you sighed and wiped at your forehead, brows furrowed in exasperation.
And then, then your eyes met hers.
For just a fraction of a second, just long enough for the world to narrow down to only you and her.
Selene felt it then.
The shift. The spark.
And so did William.
Her father turned to her, that wolfish grin splitting his face as he clapped a heavy hand against her shoulder, shaking his head in amusement.
"I ain’t gon’ sit ‘ere ‘n watch you throw away this opportunity!" he had laughed, voice dripping with certainty. "Go for it, kid!"
As if you were already hers.
As if he knew something she didn’t.
And maybe he did. Maybe you had been hers from the start.
Maybe you just didn’t know it yet.
William had a way of making himself indispensable, of weaving his presence into someone’s life so subtly that by the time they realized, he was already settled in, grinning that knowing grin. Your mother never stood a chance.
With his deep, rumbling voice full of charm and weathered wisdom, he spun a long-winded conversation around her like a well-crafted snare. He told her of all the best places in town, the cozy bakery with the flakiest pastries, the farmer’s market that sold fresh preserves and homemade soap, the hiking trail with a view so breathtaking it would make a city-dweller believe in magic.
And you—poor, unsuspecting you—were left stranded, fanning yourself as the summer heat clung to your skin, waiting. You shifted from foot to foot, half-listening, half-hoping for an escape that never came. It was a stroke of luck, really, that William had such a talent for buying time.
Yet, despite all the time he bought her, Selene still hadn’t mustered the nerve to approach you. An hour and a half passed, her father stealing glances at her as he continued his effortless charm offensive on your mother. She could feel his patience wearing thin. Then, her phone buzzed.
‘if you dont hit on that little thing I'm gon' punch their mother.’
Selene nearly choked on air.
That was the push she needed.
Since that day, it had been a year. A wonderful, agonizingly slow, and utterly perfect year with you. She had wormed her way into your life with the same relentless devotion her father had once used on her mother, but this was different. You were different.
Every single week, without fail, no matter how packed her schedule was, Selene made sure to see you. At the very least, once a day. Sometimes she could only spare a few stolen minutes, sometimes she could stay for hours, but she never let a day pass without reminding you that she was there. That she was yours. She didn’t care how pathetic it made her look, some lovesick country bumpkin head over heels for the spoiled city kid. If that’s what you were, then fine. She would gladly play her role. She would show you why the countryside was better, why you didn’t need the bustling streets and towering buildings when you had golden fields, winding rivers, and her.
So far, it had been great.
And best of all, you still hadn’t figured out what she truly was.
She was grateful for that.
You had been raised in comfort, shielded from the wild, from the things that lurked in the shadows beyond the safety of streetlights and locked doors. You were so delicate, so sheltered, and she adored every single fragile part of you.
Even the way you jumped at the tiniest things made her heart squeeze in something close to delight. A beetle scurrying too close to your shoe? A moth flitting near your hair? A grasshopper daring to exist in your presence? You would shriek and press yourself into her, clutching at her arm, your voice high and frantic.
"Get it! Selly, get it!"
And oh, Selene would melt. The nickname. The trust. The way you turned to her first, without thinking, instinctively believing she would protect you. She would chuckle, low and indulgent, and fold immediately, grabbing the offending insect and hurling it so far away it might as well have landed in another state.
You were precious. And fragile things needed to be guarded.
Your family had done their best. You had plenty of overprotective older brothers, each one puffing up their chests, crossing their arms, trying to look intimidating whenever she was around. They made a show of being ready to throw hands if she ever hurt you, an adorable attempt, considering she towered over them, making them look more like minions than actual threats.
Selene found them endearing. Amusing, even. They had spent years keeping you safe, fending off anyone who might hurt you. She respected that. She even appreciated it.
But their time was over.
Now, it was her turn.
And unlike them, she didn’t just fend off humans.
She knew how to scare away the real predators. The ones that didn’t come in the form of jealous exes or handsy admirers. The ones that crept in the woods at night, with glowing eyes and teeth too sharp for a man’s mouth. The ones who might take one look at you and see prey.
She wasn’t going to let that happen.
You were hers, after all. And the rest of the world was going to learn that soon enough.
Yet somehow, despite all her efforts, despite the careful way she had drawn you away from the others, isolating you like a lamb from the flock, a smaller prey—a mere insignificant insect—had still managed to crawl its way toward you.
Annabelle ‘Belle’ Winde was a pest.
A persistent, aggravating little thing that refused to see reason, refused to be intimidated, refused to accept that you belonged to Selene. No, Belle tested her. She pushed. She prodded. She wanted to peel back the mask, to rip away the carefully maintained facade Selene had constructed just for you. She wanted you to see the monster beneath—the one with sharp teeth and hunger in its chest, the one Selene had so patiently hidden from your delicate little heart.
Before you and Selene had even become an item, Belle had taken it upon herself to warn you, constantly muttering under her breath, slipping you wary glances, cornering you when she thought Selene wasn’t around. She’s not what you think. There’s something wrong with her. Stay away.
But you had laughed. Smiled. Brushed her off.
And now you wished, more than anything, that you had listened.
Selene’s mask had started to slip. Not all at once, not in some dramatic, catastrophic reveal—but in pieces. It began when a stranger, some poor soul who had only been asking for directions, made the mistake of looking at you too long. Selene had turned feral in an instant, her rage snapping through the air like a whip, her shoulders coiled tight with the barely restrained urge to tear into flesh. If you hadn’t been there, hadn’t thrown yourself between her and the unsuspecting woman, you were certain Selene would have ripped her apart with nothing but her bare hands.
The confrontation had led to a fight, one that escalated so fast it left your head spinning.
The walls of her small, ramshackle shed, the place she called her room, felt suffocating, the air thick with anger, possessiveness, obsession. Her presence loomed over you, wild and unhinged, her chest rising and falling too quickly, her nails digging into her own palms as if she were trying to anchor herself, to hold back the storm raging inside her.
You have had enough.
For weeks, her possessiveness had become unbearable, creeping into every facet of your life like a slow-moving toxin. At first, it had been subtle—gentle even. A hand on the small of your back when someone got too close, a casual but firm interruption whenever someone tried to steal your attention for too long. Then, it had gotten worse. You couldn’t speak to anyone without feeling the weight of her gaze drilling into the back of your skull. Couldn’t interact with a passing neighbor without her mood souring for the rest of the day.
She had made it clear that no one was safe.
Not friends. Not acquaintances. Not even animals. She had nearly lost her mind when a stray cat had brushed against your legs, tail curling affectionately around your ankle.
The only ones exempt from her suffocating jealousy were her family and yours—everyone else was a threat. A rival.
You had tried to understand. You had tried so hard to rationalize it. Maybe she was just insecure. Maybe she had been hurt before. You had done everything you could to reassure her, to soothe whatever wounds she was keeping buried beneath the surface. You had held her face in your hands, thumb brushing against her cheek, whispering that you were hers and hers alone, that no one else could ever sway you, no matter how attractive or charming they were.
And for a while, she had seemed to believe you.
But it never lasted.
Because eventually, her own paranoia would creep in again, sinking its fangs into her mind, twisting her thoughts into something dark, something ugly, something hungry.
And now, standing there, watching the way her golden eyes glowed unnaturally in the dim light, you knew you had reached a breaking point.
Selene’s voice was low, a growl lurking beneath her words. Her pupils had dilated, and there was something off about the way she was breathing, like she was fighting some primal instinct, something clawing at the edges of her restraint.
"How do I know you’re not just saying that?" she snapped, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. "So you can go behind my back and fuck other women?!"
The accusation hit like a slap, and your stomach dropped.
She didn’t believe you.
She never had.
Selene knew she had taken it too far. She knew, the moment your eyes had widened in disbelief, the moment your face had twisted with hurt, the moment you had turned and ran, your pathetic little heart breaking right in front of her. But she had been too consumed by rage to stop. Even as the door slammed shut behind you, even as she stood there, fists clenched at her sides, her entire body trembling with the force of her emotions, she had let it fester—let it burn in her chest, white-hot and all-consuming.
Of course, the next day, she had made it up to you. She had swallowed her pride, softened her voice, wrapped her arms around you and whispered apologies against your skin, her breath warm and sweet, laced with that same intoxicating scent that had once made you dizzy.
And for a moment, just a moment, you had believed her. But nothing changed. She was still suffocating. Still watching you like a hawk, still refusing to let you breathe without her knowing exactly where you were, who you were with, what you were doing.
So you ended it.
It wasn’t easy. Not with the way she had looked at you—her expression unreadable, her silver-blue eyes gleaming with something dark, something dangerous. But you had stood your ground. You weren’t some thing to be owned. You weren’t an animal, a pet to be punished and rewarded as she pleased. You were done.
And after that? Well, you had started making up for lost time.
You met new people. You rekindled old friendships—most notably with Belle, whose warnings no longer seemed so ridiculous in hindsight. She had taken it upon herself to watch over you, slipping you little trinkets and charms with a knowing glint in her eye. “To protect you from evil,” she had said each time, her voice light but firm, her hands pressing the small items into yours like they were shields, armor against something lurking just beyond your perception.
You had always humored her, smiling at her antics, letting her drape you in protection. And why not? The gifts were cute. Stylish, even. The supposed magic was just an added bonus—if it was real, of course.
You hadn’t realized how real it was.
Hadn’t noticed the way Selene had been trying to reach you for weeks, her frustration growing with every failed attempt.
She had tried to break into your home, only to recoil the second she got too close, her stomach twisting violently, nausea rolling through her like a wave. There was something wrong. Something unnatural about the air surrounding your house. A stench that made her hack and spit, that made her instincts scream at her to run, to stay away. It was everywhere, clinging to the very walls, lacing through the wood, seeping into every corner, a vile, invisible barrier that no human could detect.
But she knew.
And if that wasn’t bad enough, it was on you, too. The scent covered you entirely, draped over your skin like an impenetrable cloak, keeping her at bay. No matter how desperately she tried to get close, no matter how much she ached to touch you, something repelled her, forced her back, denied her the one thing she wanted more than anything.
At first, she had thought you had done this. That somehow, some way, you had figured out what she was—had taken precautions, had made the conscious choice to keep her out.
But then she realized the truth. It was that motherfucker, Belle. The witch. More accurately, the bitch.
Of course. Of course it was her. The annoying little gnat who had never trusted Selene, who had tried to tear you from her grasp even before you had started dating. She had known, hadn’t she? That conniving little bitch had known exactly what Selene was, and instead of warning you, she had worked in the shadows, subtly poisoning you against her.
Every charm. Every trinket. Every bracelet and keychain, every earring, every little thing she had given you—it had all been part of her plot.
And that’s when Selene decided.
She took note of all your new accessories, every new ward that had been placed on you, cataloging them carefully, waiting for the perfect moment.
And when that moment finally came, she struck.
It had been too easy.
You had dressed up for a neighbor’s wedding, a vision in your carefully chosen outfit, completely unaware of what lurked just beyond the tree line. You hadn’t even noticed when she followed you, stalking from the shadows, waiting for the right time to pounce.
Now, here you were.
Crawling backward through the mud, your elegant clothes ruined, the rich fabric clinging to your trembling form. Your hands scrambled against damp earth, your breath coming in ragged, panicked gasps. You barely registered the cold seeping into your skin, too focused on the beast looming ahead of you—the one with thick auburn fur, streaked with faint remnants of violet dye, its powerful limbs tense with anticipation, its glowing silver-blue eyes locked onto you with a hunger that made your blood run cold.
Selene.
The same eyes you had fallen in love with a year ago.
She bared her fangs, her lips curling into something between a snarl and a grin, her voice coming out in a guttural, lilting drawl that sent ice down your spine.
"Yer mine, sweet pea."
She took a slow, deliberate step forward, massive paws sinking into the damp earth, her tail flicking in amusement at your feeble attempts to escape.
"And I’ll show it to ya, I’ll show you how a feral woman acts when she’s been unfairly punished."
A whimper left your lips, and Selene chuckled, low and throaty, her gaze dark with intent.
Can u pls repost the zombie reader x Lauren fix? Pretty please?~
yes of course!!! you can find it here
SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG unfortunately had a final last night, man i hated that one oof, not bad but not the best, i am still sleep deprived regardless of the fact i slept 80% of the day after my final lol ONE MORE FINALLL AND IM FREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE
