#☆ . ༄ marked : yandere!blue lock

[tcshi]

BLUE LOCK YANDERE : mikage reo

⚠︎ : dark content ahead ! obsessed!reo, noncon/dubcon, hints of kidnapping, drugging, fingering, reo is an absolute creep in this one, lmk if i missed anything, minors do not interact.

reo loves you most like this.

docile and putty in his arms.

well... he knows it's because it had been 9 months since you've touched, conversed or seen any other people besides him. but this thought lies trivial in his head because reo had already made himself believe that it's certainly not the case.

his pretty doll... you're here because you want to, right? you're here staying with him in his impractical, grandiose manor an hour and a half away from the city because you love him, yes? you love him. and nothing could change that irrefutable fact.

not even when there are certain days where you would stare at him, dark glaring eyes and frowning face as if telling him without needing to open your mouth that you disgust me and i fucking hate you as you're sat on your side of the bed, chained to the ceiling of the room while he slips on his training gear. not even when you would utter the words that you knew reo loathed, especially coming from the same mouth who blabbered incoherent proclamations of your love for him when you're all dopeyㅡall because of a special drug concocted just for him to use on you, something that his multi-million dollar name can provide and can hide from the public just like how his name managed to manipulate the case of your disappearance.

so when you take your own initiative to seek for him and his comfort, reo takes more than what you're offering. it's because it's rare. it happens once in a blue moon and who's to predict when this'll happen again? right? right.

so when you start pushing his hands away from wandering underneath your (his) shirt, his cold fingertips dragging against your skin until they're fiddling with the hem of your cotton panties, he's ignoring your pleas of stopping. your voice is nothing but a soothing melody that reaches his ears, warms his heart and sends a bolt of shock that makes the length in between his legs throb with want.

reo ignores the way your tears cascaded beautifully on your cheeks and although he takes more than a necessary second to watch your crying face, he dips a finger inside your panties with comforting words that weren't at all comforting.

you continue to writhe against his hold but to no avail, you were still too weak from the events that took place not even a full 24-hour ago and instead continue to voice out your pleas for him to stop.

reo doesn't stop of course. you're in no place to tell him what to do. he loves you, very much so but he will never take your word for anything except when you're trying to convince yourself (and him) that you love him.

he traces the sheer arousal that coated your pussy lips, planting soft kisses on the side of your head before he finally slips a finger in, expertly maneuvering his digit to the spot that had you moaning and finally temporarily ceasing your annoying cries for him to stop.

thank fuck that you did. reo really doesn't want to resort in plastering your lips with duck tape again because he loves to shove his tongue inside your mouth while he's fucking you. he also loves hearing you whine and moan for him but he can't exactly do those things when you've got your lips sealed right?

reo makes a quick work of easing down his own shorts with one hand, slipping it off from his ankles and letting the fabric fall down the bed while he's busy finger-fucking you.

he traces the outline of your breast through your shirt, palming your chest before he's pinching and rolling your hardened nipple in between his fingers.

“god... so fucking pretty...” he groans in your ears, rubbing his dick against the skin of your plump ass. he licks the tears that fell down from your eyes, moaning at the salty taste as you gasp and trash in his hold, mouth pleading for him to go fasterㅡstop, please but you're very much evidently grinding against the flat of his palm, rubbing your engorged clit against the rough skin.

reo chuckles darkly, raising your shirt up and bunching it in his palms before he's shoving it in your mouth. he cups your bare breast with his free hand, continuously pumping his finger in and out of your cunny before he’s pushing two more fingers in, one that had you sobbing.

“reo please... i need itㅡplease..” you babble incoherently. gone completely was your cry of asking him to stop, oh so sweetly whining his name and pleading with him while you're busy grounding yourself against his hand.

he gives your temple another kiss, eyes glazed over as he watches his fingers covered in your slick disappear in your pussy.

“yeah?” reo challenges, other hand tweaking your pebbled nipples. “gonna let me take of ya, my pretty baby?”

when you nod your head erratically, he knows the newest version of the drug in your system was more than a success and was more than efficient enough to hold its effects. he'll just have to observe the longevity of this one, then he'll be back into slipping one of the same pills in your drink and watch as you tether between your morals or succumbing to him completely. you'll come around, and it won't be for far too long.

[gigabyte-flare]

Insatiable (Part 1)

Summary: You are a researcher for D.S.O. who is responsible for studying Leon Kennedy as Las Plagas overtakes him, maybe even finding a cure. He starts to take a liking to you, too much of a liking to you.

Word Count: 2k

Pairing: yandere plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Extreme violence and gore, biting, dubcon, forced breeding, gross las plagas-y things, death, mentions of un-aliving. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.

A/N: Heavily inspired by this artwork by @chanif-art on Tumblr along with Project Scorpion by @tagzpite. Literally could not get this idea out of my head until I wrote it down. Definitely going to be another series. We're also going to pretend D.S.O. was founded way sooner than 2011 k byeeeeee

“I fought a war and I learned how to win, but how do you fight when the enemy’s within?”

You step out of an elevator led by two armed D.S.O. operatives in tactical gear deep underground at HQ, your white lab coat flowing gently as you walk forward. Grasped in your right hand is a voice recorder. You and the operatives go through a series of heavy steel doors leading you into the bowels of the underground facility.

Is all this really necessary? you think to yourself as you’re led deeper into the abyss.

Finally, you’re brought to a single cell enclosed with clear polycarbonate panels with steel reinforcements. In this cell was a man sitting in a chair that was bolted into the floor, his hands chained behind his back and his legs chained to the legs of the chair. This man is Agent Leon S. Kennedy. You approach one of the panels closest to the steel door keeping him in. 

Switching the voice recorder on and bringing it to your mouth, you state your name before continuing, “The year is 2004. The subject is field agent Leon Scott Kennedy, currently 27 years old and exhibiting the late stages of Las Plagas infestation, his body is covered in dark, vein like marks. Subject is currently slumped over in the chair. He appears to be catatonic.”

Bringing the recorder away from your mouth, you motion to one of the operatives to guard the door. You input a passcode into a key panel next to the door. It lets out a hiss as it slowly swings open. As you step in, the door swings closed and locks.

You bring the recorder back to your mouth and continue, “Agent Kennedy?”

You watch as Leon slowly lifts his head, his face completely covered in the dark veins, his once blue eyes now have a slight red tinge to them, it makes your stomach twist in sorrow, he used to be such a handsome man.

“Subject appears to still have some cognitive ability left as he immediately recognized his name. We’re still trying to understand how he hasn’t broken down now that the alpha Plagas host, Osmund Saddler, has been destroyed--”

“I’m right here, you know,” Leon suddenly spoke, making you jump.

“Ag-Agent Kennedy!” you reply, eyes wide in shock that he’s able to speak. 

“Please, just call me Leon, sweetheart.”

His dark gaze seemed to pierce straight into your very soul. You collect yourself, clearing your throat.

“How are you feeling, Leon?”

Leon looks down at himself, tugging gently at his restraints before looking back up at you, “all things considered, I actually feel pretty damn good.”

“That’s… good, I guess,” you reply, your nervousness clear in your voice. 

You hadn’t prepared for this, every researcher that attempted to interact with him got absolutely nothing out of him, hence why they sent you down. You argued with them, not seeing the point but now you began to realize that the difference was they were all men, you were a woman. 

“Awww… there’s no need to be so nervous, sweetheart, it’s just me, Leon Kennedy. I promise I don’t bite,” he says, a small smirk appearing on his lips, “hard.”

“Do you know where you are and why you’re here, Leon?”

He lets out a chuckle, “yeah, I’m in D.S.O.’s research facility because I’m turning into a monster.”

“That’s putting it rather bluntly, but yes, that’s correct.”

“About time they sent someone cute down here to visit me, the rest were much too dull. If I wasn’t chained up, I’d ask you out to dinner and a movie.”

You feel yourself blushing, “that’s… very kind of you Leon, however that won’t be happening anytime soon, I’m afraid.”

“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name,” he growls, a sinister grin overtaking him.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as your eyes widen at him. This wasn’t like Leon at all, the parasite was clearly twisting his thoughts. You panic, turning around to motion the operatives to open the door and let you out. As soon as you’re out of the cell, you briskly walk away from the cell as fast as you can, not once looking back. You could have swore you heard Leon’s laugh echo after you. 

“I am not going back down there, are you insane?!”

“You’re the first person he has actually spoken to since he got back from Spain,” the lead researcher, Bryan said, setting your voice recorder down onto his desk. 

“So? Your point? I’m not doing it and that’s final!”

“Look, this recording gives us valuable data on him, it’s clear that the Plagas inside him is mutating into a more dominant strain. It must know it’s the last one left,” Bryan said, pleading with you.

“So we’re just going to poke and prod him like he’s some guinea pig? Leon wouldn’t have wanted that! Are you sure there’s no way we can cure him?”

“If we attempt to remove the parasite now, it will kill him--”

“Then let’s put him out of his misery, this isn’t right!”

The silence between you was deafening. After a few minutes, Bryan finally spoke.

“Judging by this recording, the Plagas has one thing on its mind.”

“Which is…?”

Bryan looked up at you, letting out a heavy sigh, “reproduction.”

“All the more reason I shouldn’t be going back down there!”

“He’ll be restrained and you’ll have at least two operatives with you at all times, you’ll be safe,” Bryan leans forward on his desk, folding his hands together, “the data you collect from Agent Kennedy is invaluable in finding out how the parasite works, just… go down and talk to him. I know yesterday was unnerving but there is one thing he said that is true, he’s just Leon Kennedy. He’s in there somewhere, even if the Plagas is influencing him.”

You cross your arms, staring at the floor, letting out a frustrated sigh before looking back up at Bryan, “fine. But I want hazard pay.”

“Consider it done, here’s your recorder back,” Bryan says, sliding the recorder across the desk towards you. 

You grab the recorder of the desk, turning on your heel to walk out of Bryan’s office.

“You are to report down there in an hour, you hear me?” Bryan calls after you just as you walk out the door.

You fight the urge to flip him off, thinking better of it. You walk down the hall into your office, getting your lab coat back on and sitting at your desk. You press play on the recorder, listening back on your interaction with Leon several times. There was one part where you repeated it several times, sending chills down your spine.

“That’s a shame, because I’d love to take you to bed and make you scream my name.”

How long had Leon been locked down here, chained to this chair? How many men in lab coats came and tried to talk to him? He knew he was a lost cause, why were they keeping him alive? How many times did he wish death would come and take him in his sleep?

But then you came, awakening something in him.

Your natural scent filled the cell completely, so many hours had gone by and he could still smell you and you smelled absolutely divine. He couldn’t stop thinking about you, the way your voice was so sweet yet filled with drive and intelligence. The way you blushed when he flirted with you. The way your heartbeat began to race at just the mere mention of taking you.

God you were so cute when you ran off, all flustered, he couldn’t help but laugh; he hadn’t felt alive like that in so long. His reminiscing was interrupted suddenly when he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. Lifting his head, he practically began to salivate when he saw you had returned.

You came back to me, baby, where you belong…

“The subject appears to be conscious and alert, he watched us as soon as we were in his line of sight,” you say as he watches you speak into the voice recorder. 

With a hiss, the door opens and you step inside. Leon breathed in deep, taking in the smell of you, you smelled even better than you had yesterday. He feels his cock twitch in his pants in excitement. He watches as the door behind you closes and locks, just like it had yesterday, trapping you in here with him.

Curse these fucking chains…

“You’re more lively today, Leon, care to tell me why?” you ask, your voice flat and void of any emotion.

“How about you tell me why you smell so nice,” Leon replies, grinning at you, drool running from his mouth down his chin.

He watches you shift uncomfortably before you continue, “I’m not answering that.”

Leon scoffs, shaking his head, “then I’m not going to talk to you, sweetheart.”

You take a deep breath, “if I’m going to be honest, I don’t know why I smell so nice to you, Leon.”

His red eyes scan up and down your form, imagining it without all those needless clothes. Imagining himself pinning you to the floor and fucking you stupid. A strange, clicking sound came out of him from the back of his throat as he pulled aggressively on the chains holding him to the chair. He watches as the two men with guns outside become alert. Leon lets out a low growl as he glares at them.

You turn to face the men, signaling to them to stand down. He watches them both relax before you return your attention to him. 

“The transformation appears to be progressing faster than expected,” you say into the recorder, “are you in any pain, Leon?”

Leon slowly shakes his head, “no, just unbelievably horny, doll.”

“We have reason to believe the subject is displaying an increased libido due to the fact that the parasite inside him knows it’s the last of its kind.”

“Stop talking about me like I’m not here, that’s awfully rude.”

“Fine,” you say, lowering the recorder away from your mouth, “what do you want to talk about, Leon?”

“You should ask those nice boys out there to take these chains off me,” Leon purrs, staring at you longingly.

“Absolutely not, Leon,” you reply, crossing your arms, “those chains are there for my safety as well as your own, at least until we can get the Plagas out of your body.” “I think I’m too far gone for that, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, the sorrow clear in your eyes, “I am so sorry that this is what you have become, Leon.”

“I’m not,” Leon says as that sinister grin overtakes him again; he starts to chuckle.

“Leon,” you begin, stepping closer and kneeling down to be eye level with Leon, “I know the real you is in there, somewhere, you have to fight it.”

Your scent was almost enough to drive him crazy, you were delectable. He licks his lips, that clicking sound coming out from this throat again. His eyes are locked on you and he sees you glance down briefly before looking back into his eyes. He knew what you were looking at, you were looking at the noticeable bulge in his cargo pants.

“You’re so pretty, you know that?” Leon says, his body visibly trembling.

You don’t respond, you simply stare at him with that same sad look in your eyes. How could you not want him as much as he wanted you. His lips curl into a snarl.

“Let me FUCK YOU!” he growls, lunging forward, the bolts in the chair letting out a loud screech as they’re bent slightly.

You stumble back, falling backwards onto the floor as Leon continues to struggle violently. The two men with guns come rushing in, one of them grabbing you off the floor while the other shoots a tranquilizer dart into Leon’s thigh. Leon feels the effects almost instantly, his body becomes limp as he becomes sluggish, his mouth hanging agape as he watches you get led out of the room by the two men, the door shutting and locking behind them as you’re led away.

“Mine,” he whispers in his last moments of consciousness, “all mine.”

Part 2

[ctrlhope]

The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

synopsis: The winter gods are out to get you. That could be the only possible explanation for the series of bad luck tumbling before you— tropical vacation cancelled, snow locking you inside. Hell, even your shovel broken in half has got to be the gods playing some sort of trick on you. Pulling you along, making decisions for you as they guide you along the red string of fate. Guide you towards the very spider that found his way into your basement. Allowing him to fall into your heart all the same. -> apart of the rest, relax, reserve series

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

⋆𐙚┊: genre: hybrid au, soft yandere, soulmate au, romance, fluff, smut, v light angst

⋆𐙚┊: content: spider hybrid!jimin (cobalt blue tarantula), human!reader, soft yandere jimin, dom!jimin, power imbalances, blood, blood kink, injury, mates / mating, stupid misunderstandings, reader is rlly bad at feelings, heat/rut cycles, jealousy, biting/marking, jimin has fangs, brat taming, light subspace, bondage, fingering, breeding / breeding kink, unprotected sex, cumplay, overstimulation, manipulation, mentions of kidnapping, mentions of venom, honestly rlly soft- jimin is just a little off his rocker, so many mentions of the word silk, jimin is soft for reader but also a little perverted freak <\3

⋆𐙚┊: notes: AHHH it’s finally here!!! I’ve had such a bad crush on spider jimin for such a long time. Creating his character over the years in my head— how exactly this type of hybrid would function was so fun for me. This fic (& the others that follow) has been spurred on by my special interest in arthropods so I hope you end up loving this jimin as much as I do <33 mwah I kiss u guys

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

The weather has grown cold, too harsh for anyone to live outside— survive. Burly temperatures tumbling through the air in icicles, the entire world painted in white.

While the city was still busy, your quaint neighbourhood had gone completely quiet. Everyone huddled inside, trying to keep warm while they sipped on cocoa. The worst blizzard in generations deciding to tumble through on the exact weekend you were meant to go out of town. Meant to be enjoying a tropical beach with the best of your friends!

But nooo, all of the planes had to stay grounded and you had to be stuck in your house with nothing but chilly embers decorating your fireplace.

You were pissed about it all, to say the least. Annoyed that your vacation had to be cancelled, annoyed at the fact you couldn’t stay warm in the slightest, annoyed that you had to be shovelling snow out of your driveway right now.

Well, attempting to shovel snow would be a better way to put it. In theory it seemed like the right thing to do– try and get your car out just in case, start to clear a path for when you’d finally be able to greet the outside world, triumph over whatever winter gods are trying to keep you locked in your home.

In reality, you could hardly move– three layers of pants, two coats keeping all of your joints locked down. God, and the snow. It was coming down way too hard, piling up faster than you could brush it away. Hurting your cheeks with the freezing temperatures, making your bones throb with want to go back inside.

It is safe to say that you did not succeed. That was an easy enough conclusion to come to with the two halves of your snow shovel in your hands. Eyes staring blankly at the object with utter… you don’t even know the word.

Cheeks flushed red with cold, head lifting to the sky as you blink. What the fuck! How shitty can your shovel be! What the fuck is wrong with the snow!

Okay, maybe you did buy it at the dollar store. But that isn’t the point! Where has quality gone in our nation! Caring about the consumer! Yeah, that was never there to begin with! But still! You like to think that there's a point in that somewhere!

The snow falling on your skin feels like the sky is laughing at you, mocking you. It probably is. Cancelling your trip, forcing you to stay at home into the lonely confines of your small neighbourhood.

Yeah, the world is out to get you, you’ve decided it.

A grumble leaves your throat in annoyance, quiet cusses leaving your lips as your legs try to waddle themselves inside. Layers of clothing restricting every movement you make, joints feeling stiff and bones feeling cold. You are no more than a penguin, are you?

“Stupid fuckin’ shovel, stupid fuckin’ snow…” You huff, slamming the thick oak door behind you. Hoping, in a way, that you could pretend none of the frost was there in the first place.

It’s not that you hate snow– of course not. You don’t like to hate much of anything. But when it’s this deep, this thick, you can’t help the sour mood you fall into. Can’t help the sickly feeling in your gut that it has somehow wronged you simply for existing.

Whatever, not that it matters much. You aren’t mother nature. You can’t change it or your now cancelled– most likely non-refundable plans.

What you can change? A nice warm pizza in your tummy.

You hum to yourself, tapping off your boots before ridding yourself of them entirely. Soon follows your jackets, puddles of water quickly forming on the floor where it falls. Snow melting much too fast now that it is in the warmth of your home.

You stare at it in spite, another way mother nature has wronged you today.

You know what? No, not your problem right now. That is a problem for you later today! The wood would be fine. And if it isn’t?

…

You groan, throwing your head back as you move to the bathroom. The battle of opposing forces inside of your head has won again– being responsible, doing the right thing.

Your hand snatches a towel, “Stupid shovel… stupid snow…” You huff, kneeling on the ground to wipe away the liquid that pooled.

You hang the towel back in the bathroom for it to dry before finally making your way to the kitchen. To finally make the frozen pizza you want– no deserve! Yeah, you’ve had a hard day today, being an adult is too hard sometimes. You deserve a little treat don't you?

Feet scuffling against the floor, fluffy socks dragging along the surface allowing you to quickly slip against the tiled floor. Your hips sway, a quiet hum leaving your lips as your hands move diligently, efficiently. Placing the pizza in the oven, setting the timer, flipping the switch on on the kettle.

Everything happens with practised ease. With movements that leave no room for error. Careful, efficient, the way your parents always taught you. The right way.

If you do everything correctly, things will never go wrong. You’ll never have to worry. When everything is in your control, everything is perfect and content.

It’s too bad the right way never accounts for things out of your control. When the world causes you to tense and get annoyed– when it doesn’t behave the way it's supposed to, like you want it to. Just like stupid shovels and a winter storm no one predicted.

But hey, at least you still have power. Your backup generator is there if you need it. Can still watch your dramas and eat warm food. Keep yourself sane while the insane persits just outside of your door.

Lonely, lonely, lonely winter storm~ whatever shall you do~

Your head begins to sing to itself while you wait. Maybe you already were going insa–

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

Your eyes instantly dart to the basement door wide with fear– the source of the sound.

A crash, a quiet cry, a scurry all sound in quick succession. Too loud to miss. Too loud to ignore. Too distinct to place on anything else.

You know winter noises. The crash of shutters against the window, the influx of snow on glass. The beating of hail against the roof or the creaking of pipes chilled from the cold. The noises you just heard? None of the above. They couldn’t possibly be. They weren’t. They were too… too…

Human.

Shit, shit. Is someone in your basement?! Oh god, oh fuck.

The room, it freezes over.

Your pulse starts to race– hairs raise, stand on end. Breath filtering through your nose as you start to panic. Fingers grip the countertop as you try to ground yourself. Try to figure out a way to escape this.

If horror movies have taught you anything– it’s how to run. Grab everything you can, high tail it out before you become victim to the unknown lurking just below the surface of your floorboards. Before you can be possessed or worse, chased down by some mass murdering clown.

That would be the smart thing to do– the wise thing. To get out of your house as quickly as possible, call the police to investigate it for you before you have to become the ‘final girl’ of a movie franchise of your own.

But the storm, the storm would never allow for the right thing.

The police would never make it in time, the roads far too hazardous to truly reach you. If they did, you would already have frostbite from the cold outside by the time they made it. You might be worse off than before–

At least, that’s what you tell yourself. The reasoning formulated in your head as you grab a broom from the closet, slowly make your way to the basement door. Completely ignoring the nagging feeling in your gut, the one that tells you that you actually want to travel down the stairs. A string tugging you along a path predetermined, forcing you to forego anything you had thought before.

No, your line of reasoning had to be the object pulling you down those stairs, creaking with every slow, nagging step that you take. It could never be curiosity, a want to understand the unknown guide leading you astray from the dirt road you’ve taken time and time again.

The right road that would lead to the right solution is all but forgotten in this moment. Only adrenaline spurring you on, fingers clenching and unclenching around the broom handle in your grip. Fingers tied so tight around the metal that your knuckles may as well be white.

You're terrified– scared out of your mind. The only noise passing through the drums of your ears is your own pulse, the accelerated beat of your heart as you try to clear the fog that dances over your brain. Fear must be clouding your judgement, making you follow it blindly into the light; well, dark.

Your breath leaps from your chest in short pants, eyes haphazardly harding around your form as you make it to the bottom of the stairs. Something is keeping your legs moving when all your brain wants to do is turn back and run. Call the authorities like you should be doing instead of risking everything to satiate the incessant need pulling at the back of your skull. Acting on instincts alone, allowing the string of fate to tug you around the corner. The urge to investigate is stronger than anything you had ever felt before. Anything you’ve ever wanted to feel before.

He sees you before you see him.

“P-please..” The quiet, almost non-existent voice sends a chill down your spine. One you were not expecting in the slightest.

Terrified, panicked. Shaking like a leaf, eyes welled with tears. It’s almost like he knew you were coming down all along, just… didn’t know what to do about it. Too scared to move, too scared to hide. Too scared to do anything but sit there and wait.

Just as petrified as you.

Nothing about the scene before you is making much sense at all. Not to you, at least. Why is he so scared? Why is he in your home? Why isn’t he doing anything but sitting there with pleading, helpless eyes? You try to take everything in, try to fit the pieces of the picture together.

Basement window opened slightly, just enough to allow the man— was he a man? To climb inside. Pretty blonde hair completely dishevelled on his head, grime coating what you know would be such pretty locks. Eyes with double pupils brimmed with tears threatening to spill at any second. Pink plush lips quivering with worry, fangs biting into them so hard you fear they may bleed. No, they are bleeding.

He is definitely not a man. Nor is he a beast. An intoxicating swirl of the two combined into a species of hybrid you’ve never seen before.

The first thought in your head is one it shouldn’t be. One that makes your heart stop for entirely different reasons than before. Makes you drop the broom in your hands, allowing it to fall to the ground with a clatter. Defences dropped completely in the face of the stranger before you.

He only flinches at the noise, blood covered hands reaching in panic to cover his all too sensitive ears.

Any worries have left you– something seeded deep within your soul tells you he isn’t a threat in the slightest. Not to you, at least. Never to you. Maybe it is the same string as before pulling you along. Pulling you to what destiny has provided.

He is absolutely gorgeous. Even with the grime and his pale complexion from the cold you can tell that easily. He might just be the prettiest thing you’ve ever seen, and you find lost in yourself what to do about it.

What is anyone meant to do when a drop dead gorgeous hybrid enters their home in the middle of a blizzard? Just as scared as you were moments before? Looking like he might freeze to death if you don’t–

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

It’s only then that you come to your senses, your eyes racking over him once more as you take in all of him for more than just the beauty he brings.

His clothes are thin– far too thin for this weather at least. Tattered on the edges, few stains spotting the fabric, though its clear effort was spent trying to get them out. Your mind wants to wonder why he would worry about that, worry about making himself appear presentable, but raking your vision down you know there is no time for it. Not with the blood on his palms or the red of his flesh.

Your body moves quicker than your brain can think, crouching down in front of him. Noticing the way he flinches once more, the fear in his eyes more palpable, hurting worse than a gunshot wound.

The constriction of your chest is dumb, or at least it should be. Feels almost benign, unfounded. You just met him, you're scaring him, but for an unexplainable reason you wish you could take all of his worry away just for that moment. Make him feel a little better, a little warm. A little safe.

“It’s okay… it’s okay…” Your voice mumbles, trying to soothe him or yourself, you’re not entirely sure.

“I-I’m sorry… pl-please don’t.. It’s just so cold… Please…” He begs, though neither of you are sure what for. Not to hurt him, not to send him back outside. All you know is the tears that now flow from his eyes, cresting along his cheeks, dripping to the floor.

“Not going anywhere…” You hope your voice sounds stronger than you feel, hope he can’t hear the way the strings of your heart break, hope he hears how much you care in your tone all along, “Trust me a little okay…?”

You know your words mean nothing, that it might have been an impossible task for him to do so. But you had to try. Had to hope.

It should be hard for you to trust him too, it should be hard to rectify your fear in the face of the one who had caused it. It isn’t the right thing– none of this is the right thing, but it all just comes too easily. Compassion, caring takes over the anxiety too easily. Too brilliantly to do anything else other than care for this hybrid that has wound up at your door.

He was just a scared hybrid doing whatever he needed to to survive. Terrified out of his mind that he would freeze or starve out there– probably had no burrow or… you’re not sure, honestly, what his home might be like. But no home nevertheless. You could never just send another person out there to die.

He stiffens as you reach out for him, gently take his hands in your own. They feel like ice, frozen solid. You don't want to acknowledge what could have happened to them if he was out there any longer.

Without thinking you raise them to your lips, blowing on them as best you can. Trying to do anything to get the blood flowing again before you take him upstairs. Warm him up properly. Make him feel like more than a snowman once again.

You don’t notice the way his form completely loses all stress as you touch him for the first time, speak to him the first time. He feels transfixed on your voice– it had to be too sweet to be real. But you were too focused on your mission. Too focused on making sure the man who has broken into your home is okay to notice the way his lips part slightly at your tone.

You don’t notice the way his breath hitches, the way all of his hair stands on edge as a current runs through his body, breathing life into every pore he possesses. Nor the way his eyes widen, losing their will to cry as he stares at you.

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

You don’t notice a lot of things he does that day. Too focused on getting him into a warm shower– one he was very confused by, you might add. Too focused on getting a warm meal in his belly. Too focused on getting him in nice, clean clothes. A set that will properly keep him warm.

You could worry about other things later. But this felt right. This felt like something you were always meant to do. Or maybe that was just the size of your heart talking– you could never be too sure. But you liked to think it was the former. Liked to hope that Jimin, who you later learned was a spider hybrid, was always meant to come tumbling through your window, into your life for good.

The days that follow are easy– falling into a rhythm with him, taking care of him is just too simple. As basic as breathing, maybe.

Though, it hasn’t exactly been hard with how much he sleeps. How deep he’s nestled in your bed, blankets piled on top of him to drown out any chills that may attempt to slip into his bones. It’s almost like hibernation– if you could describe it. Re-building his energy, making himself feel strong again before he faces the world.

You can’t blame him, honestly. Not after everything he’s been through. Only god knows how long he had been out there. How long he had to brave the snowstorm, the cold weather that previewed it as well. You would probably do the same thing. Hide yourself from everything that hurt you.

Most days you wish you could be doing the exact same thing as him. Hide under a pile of blankets and forget the rest of the world exists. But the voice of your parents would always nag you out of it, force you to be human with the rest of society because it's the right thing.

You humph, gently placing a plate of food on the bedside table. Let him occupy your room for as long as he needs, preparing meals for him even though he never touches a bit of it. It’s the least you can do with his condition.

You don’t think you’ve ever wanted to stop someone's pain so badly. You hope you can by just doing small things like this. You sigh, heading for the door once again. Another day on the couch.

“Human…?” His voice is quiet, almost non-existent as he calls for you. Cracking slightly, the first time he's spoken in days.

You quickly turn to face him and almost want to fall to your knees at the sight. Fluffy blonde hair peeking from just below the covers, doll eyes peering at you while the rest of him stays hidden beneath the surface. Does he know how destructive he is?

Wait, no. Now isn’t the time to be thinking about this. He’s letting his defences down, actually talking to you. Stop it.

“Hmm?” You gently call back, glued to your spot in the doorway. You don’t know what he would do if you moved, how startled he may be because of it. You want to talk to him– to find answers.

“What time is it…?” He slowly asks, pacing his question. You notice a slight lisp behind his words– how much of an effort he puts to cover it up.

“Mmm.. about 1? I made myself some lunch so I was just stopping by.” You explain, trying to justify your presence in the room.

“Oh.” He looks beneath the blankets, eyes darting around the room, “Okay. Thank you.”

It seems neither of you are great conversationalists, awkward air passing between the space left between your bodies. You don’t blame him. You don’t know what you would be thinking, feeling if you were in the same place as him. If you didn’t really know what your fate was going to be.

“How are you feeling?” You ask quietly, playing with your fingers to distract from the nerves that you feel. As much as you want to jump, pin him down and ask every single thing your heart begs for, you know that isn't the right thing to do. You know you should be slow, careful with this. At least, that's what the articles online have told you.

“Better…” His voice comes out smoother this time, finally coming out of sleep as he sits up in the bed. Gently taking the plate into his lap, scrunching his nose. “It’s not cold in here like out there.”

You can’t help but smile to yourself. He seems so relaxed, so at ease. Not scared in the slightest of you or what you may do. You forget all about the fact that you should probably be scared of him too.

“Not really,” You smile gently, eyes glancing at the window as he starts to eat, “I was really worried about you, scared me bad.”

You don’t see the flush that covers his cheeks.

“I-I’m really sorry, I didn’t mean to… your window was the first one I could get through and I knew I couldn’t take the storm anymore so I–”

“Hey, It’s fine.” You turn your attention back to him, “I’m just glad you’re okay, yeah? It must’ve been terrifying out there.”

“It was.” He doesn’t hesitate in answering in the slightest, eyes serious as they focus on you. They’re beautiful, really. His eyes.

“I’m sorry…”

He shakes his head, “Not your fault human, I left the reserve. My fault.” He tells you in earnest, wanting you to believe it with every piece of your soul that you could never do anything to hurt him, “Come sit?”

The question is quiet, but you oblige nonetheless. Legs moving you slowly, perching at the end of the bed to face him. Kicking your legs slightly as you stare at the pattern of your sweats.

“The reserve?” You ask, turning slightly to face him. His face is suddenly smiling, nodding at your question. He must like the place a lot, see it as home for him to become so excited.

“Yeah! Where I live,” He explains, continuing to shovel food into his mouth as he speaks, “They say humans can't hurt you there, you get to hunt like in the wild too.”

He hums, content in talking about the one place he has ever found comfort in, found friends in. You can’t help but smile as he speaks, too.

“Yeah? It sounds really nice.” He’s nodding his head once again, as quickly as he can.

“There are lots of other arthropods to play with there. Lot’s of food. Sometimes the humans that visit will give you some too, but they’re normally scared of me.” He suddenly looks serious, eyes coming to meet yours once again, “You’re not scared of me, right?”

You jerk your head back, brows furrowing together in confusion. How could someone be scared of someone like Jimin? You’ve only known him for a matter of days and you doubt that you could ever be.

“Of course not.” You tell him, gently reaching a hand over to place on his knee. He doesn’t flinch away like you expect him to. “You just needed some help, we all need help sometimes.”

He smiles, the serious demeanour retracting from his face in an instant. Back to smiling down at his food happily. The silence doesn’t feel as awkward anymore, at least you don't think it does. It makes you happy, stretching on as he continues to eat like a man starved. He probably is, days of not eating and only sleeping.

“Why did you leave it?” You tilt your head, staring out the window once more. Few snowflakes trickle against the blue sky, “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. But I figure if we’re going to be together through the storm–”

“You’re not gonna kick me out?” His face is awestruck, fork dropping to the plate in surprise. What is he talking about? Kick him out? In this weather?

You quickly shake your head, hand slowly pulling itself back from your knee. He whines in protest, quickly trying to force himself back under your heat. The touch of your hand warmed him up more than anything else in this room– more than the blankets, more than the heater or the warm towels.

His hand tangles itself with your own, pulls you back to his covered knee. Keeps your hand in place with his own while he uses the other to eat. Good. This is better. He likes it when you touch him. The way your small hand feels wrapped in his own.

Makes the tips of his fingers tingle, warmth spread throughout his skin. This is right. This is good.

“Why would I kick you out?” You ask in disbelief, either unnoticing or uncaring to the way he holds your hand– he’s unsure. Not that it matters much! “It’s too cold for anyone out there. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

He smiles, the pit of his stomach only warming more at your words, “Good.”

“We have to wait for the snow to melt to drive you ba–” He cuts you off once again, not wanting to think about going back. At least not without you.

“My friend Taehyung leaves a lot,” He begins to explain, fingers squeezing your own as his palm lays heavy against the back of your hand, “He always talks about how fun it is. All the cool things he gets to see, you know?”

He places his plate to the side while he talks, licking one of his fangs gently. You don’t want to think about how handsome he looks while he does such an action.

“So I wanted to try it out, but we’re not really supposed to leave, you know? ‘Cause then we’re not protected.” You nod along, “And I don’t really have wings to fly out so… I had to wait until they weren’t really paying attention.”

“And that just happened to line up right before the snowstorm was supposed to hit.” You finish for him and he nods, looking down at his lap, “That has gotta be such shitty luck, Jimin. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“It’s really not, you just wanted to go out and experience new things and you almost ended up dead.” You frown at him, trying to get the man to understand the gravity of what may have happened. He simply shakes his head, plush lips tilted into a small smile just for you.

“I said it’s okay.” He tries to make you believe it, leaning closer. Feeling nothing like the stranger he was only days before. “I got to meet you, so it was all worth it.”

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Jimin has a mate that he’s going to be with someday. Someone he’s going to fall in love with. Someone he’s meant to be with, be happy with for the rest of his life. Someone that isn’t you. You really need to accept that and move on from this stupid fucking crush you’ve developed. One that will amount to nothing but heartbreak.

All hybrids have them– Jimin is not excluded from that. You know it’s true. Know it’s so true that you can hardly breathe but he just makes it so easy, too fucking easy to fall for him.

He takes care of the house, cleans it for you whenever there is a mess. Does the dishes after dinner. Takes out the trash. Tells the spiders in the yard not to mess with you– okay, you’re not entirely sure he does that last one. But he is adamant he can speak to them, and who are you to rain on his little spidey parade.

As the seasons change and the months pass, he only makes it easier and easier. Fitting into your life like he was the only piece missing. Filling in all of the bits and pieces you never knew you needed, wrapping silk around your heart and pulling it tight before you could ever think about letting him go.

Even as the months heat and his deep blue roots grow out from his bleached hair, he has no desire to the place he once called home. The reserve quickly pushed aside every time you try to bring it up. Saying he likes it better here, that this is now his home.

To be honest, nothing makes you more happy. Nothing in the world could possibly make you feel better than Jimin. His little webs he places in the corners, the soft way he clings to you when he becomes needy, the way he likes to show you any bugs he catches before he eats them. You’re not sure you could continue in your life without it.

Yet still, still. You’re not sure if this is right. The right thing, the right way to go about it all.

You often fear that you’re keeping him from what he really wants, if he actually wants to go back but feels indebted to you in some way. If that’s the only reason he actually sticks around.

You worry you’re being selfish in that regard. And then once again you find yourself spiralling into the void of questions you could never have answered. Feelings that will always be unaccounted for because Jimin has a mate.

Or at least, will have one. Someday. And you’re not sure if you could handle that day coming. Not in the warm heat of spring, flowers blooming alongside feelings for an arachnid that has entered your life.

One that has no intention of leaving your side anytime soon, if he has anything to say about it.

But nothing, nothing in the world could prepare you for this. What could prepare the thrum of your heart or the butterflies in your tummy? You never expected him to hold you this close, keep your body pressed against his own in the small space of the coat closet. Keep his face tucked away in your neck, whining in pain at something you could never think to discern.

So quickly you were pulled away, without a second to waste you were dragged onto his lap. One second kicking off your shoes, covered in mud from gardening, the next a hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling you into the dark confines. Only Jimin there to cover up your scream, lips delicately pressed to your ear uttering a quiet please. Voiced laced with a whine so pained you couldn’t help but join him without a second to spare.

A thought to think– a debate on whether this is right to do or not, for yourself and your own heart.

“Min? Min, what’s wrong?” It’s the only thing you can think to ask, pulling him away from your neck, making his head face your own. Hands gently cupping either cheek as your eyes attempt to make out the features of his face.

It’s too dark, you can’t see anything. The only answer he gives is in the form of a pained groan, not even his eyes reaching you through the darkness. You start to panic, feel the nerves along your spine light up in trepidation.

He’s hurt. He has to be. What happened? Is he okay? He’s never acted like this before. Not with you. Never before has he seemed so hurt, so dishevelled save for the night you first met him.

Just before this the two of you were gardening, mid-morning sun shining bright overhead. A light breeze passing through the trees keeping the two of you cool. That was it! He only went inside a few minutes before you, a few minutes alone and he was already hurt this bad.

Oh god, you never want him to hurt. To be in pain. It hurts your heart just as bad as it hurts him, if not worse.

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

“Min, let me just turn on the lights okay? Let me see what’s wrong.” You try to coax him, try to kneel from his lap to reach the string above you. Panic flooding through you as he keeps you snug, keeps you from helping him.

You stop your struggle, veins running cold as he lets out a sharp, violent hiss. A sound he’s never made before, never dare uttered towards you– around you in general. It leaves you nervous, scared for entirely different reasons than before.

But one thing is clear from the way his fingers dig into the skin of your wrist almost painfully. The same wrist that was reaching for the string. He doesn’t want you to turn on the light.

“Okay…okay I won’t…” You tell the arachnid, slowly lowering yourself back onto his lap. Letting go of the struggle, letting go of the resistance. It isn’t what he needs right now, isn’t what he wants.

His grip loosens, arms returning to their place around your waist. Holding you close. Keeping you in his arms. His face nuzzles back into your neck, inhaling deeply with every breath he takes. Smelling you. Imprinting the memory of it in his brain.

“What if I use my flashlight…? Would that be okay?” Once again, the response is a much short, quieter hiss. A lot less defensive, angry than the first. Just a sign of dismissal.

“Okay…” You say quietly, bringing one arm behind him to gently run through his hair. Scratching his scalp in a way that always has him preening, “Can you please tell me what's wrong? So I can help…? Please…”

Your voice is quiet, almost a beg as you ask him. He squeezes your body tighter in response. Would’ve basked in the tone you gave him if not for the pounding behind his eyelids. Still, he knows if he’s going to get you to stay, he has to talk. No matter how much it hurts.

A whine leaves his lips, nose running along the column of your neck as he tries to scent you, “Hurts.”

He answered, his voice shaky and quiet, but it gives you nothing.

“I know Min, I know…” You hush quietly, trying to consol something that you do not have the answer to. Your other hand slowly starts to soothe up and down his back, trying to relax the poor boy enough to speak.

“The light. Hurt eyes. Head Hurts.” He gruffs out, burying his face into your skin to block out any other source that he could.

Your lips part in a soft ‘o’ as the picture becomes clear to you. Staying outside too long, helping you in the garden had come at a cost to the poor spider in the form of a splitting headache.

How could you have been so dumb to let him help you? The articles you’ve read, the pieces you’ve tried to put together to understand the man in your life– they told you as much. How delicate some species' eyes could be but… Jimin never seemed to have that issue before. Never mentioned it, anyway. He doesn’t mention a lot about himself.

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…���

He only grumbles in reply, blunt nails digging into the back of your shirt to keep himself grounded. To keep his head from pounding any louder.

“Let me– Let me go get you some Ibuprofen, yeah?” You hope the sound of your voice isn’t making everything worse. If it does, he doesn’t say anything, only shaking his head, burrowing it further under your hair.

“Just… stay.” He sighs in defeat, shoulders relaxing as he holds you close. He doesn’t need medicine. He doesn’t need anything else. He just needs you. Why can’t you understand that?

“I’ll–” You breathe, trying to force the flush of your cheeks to disappear. He can see in the dark, you know that much. You wouldn’t want him seeing this. The effect he has over you. Doesn’t he know how dangerous he is?

“I’ll stay.”You sigh in defeat, unaware to the pride that blooms in his chest at the battle won. The quiet chirp from his throat that he has you here, with him. Where you’re meant to be.

Hours pass just like that, just the two of you wrapped in each other's arms. No words spoken but quiet requests to know the other is okay. That the other is safe. Even as your muscles begin to cramp, bones start to become sore you don’t dare to move. Don’t dare to do a thing when you are the only one that matters to him right now.

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

Especially as his migraine begins to lift, as the conversation between two souls becomes more frequent. As he moves your body to the side so your head can rest against his chest. As his fingers smoothe over the skin of your thigh, rubbing gentle, comforting circles into your flesh.

“And then Namjoon, you know how bad a flyer he is, ran straight into the director of the park. Made her spill her whole coffee all over.” He smiles to himself as he tells the story of the bee hybrid, eyes heavy as he looks down at your form. So cute and small, “and you know what he said?”

You shake your head, “what?”

“‘You need some honey?’” He recites, dipping his voice in a deeper octave to mimic what you can only assume to be Namjoon’s. His voice falling into quiet giggles, you quickly follow suit. Laughing at stories of friends, feeling at home in the dark closet.

You don’t care how long the two of you have been in there. Only that he isn’t in pain anymore.

“I’m glad you’re okay now.” You tell him, eyes feeling heavy, the soothing tremor of his voice vibrating in his chest making your head start to fog. Inklings of sleep slipping into your frame. Head lulling back against him, looking up at him with sleepy eyes.

He nods, his throat constricting at just how perfect you look there, fingers teetering on the brink of digging into your skin once more. “Feeling a lot better… my vision is still a little spotty but it's okay.”

You pout. He has to hold back a coo. Too cute. Do you even know how cute you are when you get like this? Probably not.

“No, it’s not okay. I should have known. Told you to go back inside so you don’t get hurt. I don’t like it when you get hurt.”

His heart pounds once, twice before he releases a shaky exhale. Do you know what you do to him when you talk like that? When you show him just how much you care?

The level of restraint he has, it has to be impressive. If he was Taehyung, he would have taken you right there. Wrapped your arms in webs so you couldn’t move. Mate you without a second thought.

Seriously, what did you think you were doing? Talking to him like that? Making him feel like he’s going insane, a few short strings from breaking free and just taking you to his nest. Keeping you there.

You can’t say things like that to him. Not with how innocent you look, with how terribly he already wants you.

A harsh breath comes out of his nose as he forces the thoughts away. He’s not Taehyung. He’s not going to take you for his own selfish desires alone. No, he’s going to keep lulling you into his web like he knows you want. Knows you need. Keep being a good little spider for you.

“I should have told you.” He says quietly, lips coming down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead, “Couldn’t have known my species is sensitive like that.”

You hum in quiet annoyance, “Still… read online about some glasses that can help some insects manage light… should have bought them.”

A courting gift? No no, you don’t know what that is. No matter what his spider screams he knows that isn’t true.

He sighs, he needs a distraction. Something to calm the voice in his head screaming at him to kiss you.

Your leg kicks out gently as he starts, feeling like nothing but a feather tickling across your skin. Gentle silks laying across the surface from his wrists, spinnerets hard at work to produce the webbing he places on your thigh.

He huffs quietly, a smirk of a laugh coming out as he moves your leg back, “Tickles?” He asks, an amused lilt present in his voice. Oh god, he’s going to start teasing you again. He loves teasing you.

“What are you doing?” You ask quietly, eyes glancing down to where his fingers move expertly. Thread after thread moving through his fingers, decorating your skin as he draws pictures. Paints flowers, sunsets, anything he can think of really across the canvas of your thigh.

“Just drawing… calms me down.” Marking you, claiming you. Showing every other arthropod that this one is his, this one is Jimins’. Well, at least for the next 3 days when the stick wears off. “Do you want me to stop?”

A tingle runs through your spine as he works, eyes not able to leave his hands for even a second. Your stomach swarms with what has to be a hive of bees, your core bubbling with something you don’t want to describe or think about.

You just hope he can’t smell you. Can’t hear the race of your heart, the increase in breath. The flush on your cheeks that travels all the way to your ears.

He can.

“N-no… It’s okay. I want you to feel better so… do what you need to do.” You mumble, trying to get your feelings to calm down before you fully lose it.

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

At least that’s what Jimin has told you time and time again over the past 8 months you’ve spent with him. Cold, icy months blossoming into the summer heat with him by your side. With him making residence in your home, cementing his place in your life without any regards for going back to his original home.

It’s too hard for him out there anyway! People at the park think you’re scary so they won’t give you any snacks, security removes your webs when they become too prominent around the landscape. Something about having to “give other spiders a chance” and them “taking up too much space.”

Can you believe them?! All the time and effort he put into his pretty webs, gone in a flash! The strain the sun caused his eyes, the pounding headaches he endured stringing up pieces of silk along the trees, creating a beautiful orchestra of white to claim his territory.

Thank god he doesn’t have to deal with that anymore, at least. Ever since you bought him those sunglasses, making webs outside has never been easier. Catching prey so much easier than ever before.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the sight of him eating the bugs he catches, but who are you to yuck his yum? You know all of the things he’s had to endure as a spider. Everything he’s convinced the world hates him for simply based on his breed alone. The least you can do is show kindness around his diet.

That’s how you end up rubbing his back in soothing circles time and time again, fangs piercing a stuffed animal or piece of fruit– anything he can get his hands on really, as he whines, flinches as he spits out all of his venom.

His venom is one of the worst things he’s had to deal with, you’ve learned. It builds up behind his teeth, waiting to be used on a waiting victim when there is no such thing. No exit point for the liquid to flow.

His fangs begin to ache, begging to pierce something just to release all of the pent up tension in his gums. It hurts too bad, too much to just keep it inside. So once a month, you find yourself in the same position, trying to help him relieve the aggression with soothing, gentle words as he spits the venom out in a way you can only imagine is unsatisfying. Leaving his fangs sensitive and achy for days to come.

In general, his fangs seem to be a point of special contention within the hybrid. They’re too pointy, cause too many issues. The extended canines digging into his plush lower lip just a little too hard making every movement just a little too uncomfortable. God, and he has to worry about brushing them to perfection– keep them pretty for his mate.

At least, that’s what he tells you.

The rest of the world hurts him. You don’t.

Today especially. At least that's what you can assume by the stretch of his arms, the whine bubbling from the back of his throat. His arms reaching for your form, beckoning you, calling you to join him on the couch. All worked up, acting like a wounded puppy that needs nursing just to get your attention.

It always works. Always will.

Some would say he’s become more pushy— more desperate for your attention, forcing it from your grasp without realizing it yourself. That’s what your friends have told you. How easily you fit into the palm of his hand with no more than a simple gesture coaxing you forward into his sweet embrace, never noticing the glares he sends others who enter your home.

No, you would deny all of it. Listen when he tells you that you don’t need your friends anyway. It just feels so good to be needed by him, wanted by him in a way you can never have him. In whatever way he’s willing to give.

r weakness than ever before. No matter how much you’ve tried to avoid it, how much you’ve tried to do the right thing and shove the stupid, pesky feelings down, he’s managed to twist himself into the confines of your heart. Filling a deep hole inside with his pretty silks and crooked little teeth. Takes up a lot more space then you’d ever be willing to admit. Not to him, anyway. Not when he could find his mate any day now.

You’ve been thinking about it more and more lately– the prospect of his mate. It’s difficult not to when he treats you so kindly. When he creeps in your bed at night to cold you, when he reaches out for your comfort alone. When he graces your neck with his fangs his lips–

You drop the dishes back in the sink, shoving your thoughts back into the deep dark recesses of your mind. Maybe if you can be his comfort for now, that will be enough. Even if it isn’t right.

Maybe that’s just how far you’ve fallen, how much he’s tangled you in his embrace. Not that it matters much, you smile all the same. Abandoning your task on only his third whine and fourth dramatic roll of the night. Giving in is so easy when it’s him.

But! It’s a new record for how long you’ve held out! Even got two stomps out of him. You should be proud of yourself.

Maybe you are, though it's for different reasons entirely as Jimin grabs at your wrists, pulling you down beside him. Nudging his face into the crook of your neck with a quiet, pained whine.

You like to ignore those other reasons. They’ll only hurt more if you face them head on. But it's hard to, so hard when he’s this close. When he’s holding you like you may just be the very thing from shattering his world apart.

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

“Y/n…” You feel his lips ghost your neck as he whines, wiggling slightly in discomfort.

His duality is always impressive, has been making your brain go a little haywire since he first moved in, since he became more comfortable in your presence. Letting you see him for what he really is. Always playing so cute, so pliant when he needs something– attention, food, for you to just give in and give him what he wants.

Other times he acts as if he could be the reincarnation of Arachne herself. Beautiful, deceptive. Terrifyingly aware of how attractive he is to the human eye. You think he does it on purpose. Likes to see your head spin as you try to keep up with which apparition of Jimin you will experience that day.

He doesn’t know how dangerous it can be, especially for you. How easy it can be to believe that it's real and not just the flirt of his personality. At least you have cute Jimin for now. It’s a little easier to manage.

“You okay Minnie? Something happen?” Your arm reaches up for where he clings to it, fingers gently petting through his fluffy blonde hair. The action seems to soothe him, make him almost pur from the feeling of your fingers alone. Make him feel the slightest bit better from whatever might be irritating him.

He forces his wrists onto your lap, nuzzles his face further into your neck. Inhale all the scents you have to offer. Let you see the issue of spiders.

The tiny holes of his spinnerets come into view, red and inflamed. Shit. They have to be hurting. The skin jutting out slightly more than it should be. Pretty strings of silk hanging in a messy manner. Clogged glands always hurt. Always make for issues.

You frown at the sight, delicately taking his wrist into your hand, looking at it closer. No, not too bad you have to take him to the doctor… you can handle it fine. But it won’t feel good, it never does. Dummy must’ve gotten too excited while webbing up the basement again, got his poor spinnerets working too hard. Overproducing silk to the point it has nowhere to go.

“Min!” You whine, already grabbing a pair of tweezers from the side-table– you’ve learned it’s always good to have a pair on-hand. “I told you that you gotta be more careful!”

“I know!” He hisses almost pathetically, “Just got ahead of myself!”

His voice is no more than a grumble, turning his head away from you yet not pulling away in the slightest. Pretending he hates when you scold him, when you show just how much you care about him.

You pretend it isn’t cute in much the same way.

“Always end up getting ahead of yourself,” You sigh dramatically, acting as if having to take care of the arachnid bothers you more than it actually does. Truth be told, you don’t care in the slightest. Who knows, maybe it even makes you preen in delight.

Feeling wanted as your fingers try to be as gentle as possible while removing the silk. Pulling out the little pieces strand by strand, work out the knot it's made under the skin to try and bring him some relief.

Though, no matter how careful you may be, he still flinches in pain all the same. Trying to cover it up like it was nothing, like every poke and prod doesn’t hurt. Like he can be tough under your gentle hands and pained gaze. He knows it has to be done and no matter how much you hate to see him in pain, you do too.

The dull ache will grow worse and worse, could even turn into an infection if you don't handle it as fast as possible. Worst case? He may have to have his spinnerets removed completely. A fate that feels worse than death to a spider hybrid– or so you’ve read at least.

Soon after he came into your life you did everything in your power to learn as much about his species as possible. Scoured webpage upon webpage, blog post on blog post, youtube video after youtube video. Even went down the sticky threads of a reddit rabbithole to try and learn everything about him.

The only thing you found: how horrible arthropod hybrids are treated in your society. Either sold at auction for absurd prices or cast aside completely depending on how “inhuman” they look. How they are used as tools to show wealth or are discarded from the rest of the world completely. The notion alone had pissed you off to no end.

Jimin was a member of the latter group– or at least that’s what you assumed. From behind no one would be able to tell he was any less than human. His lack of multiple limbs or fluttering wings left him to the devices of the reserve. Probably cast aside, dropped off by the people that raised him for not providing anything that went along with their definition of ‘value’.

Your eyes pinch into a quiet glare. They’re just fucking stupid. Anyone could see that Jimin is perfect. Anyone could see that he did not deserve the treatment he's received, nor deserved to be in the state he was in when you first found him.

And while you’re glad he didn’t end up with anyone else, still didn’t end up in an auction house like many others had, you hate them for thinking they could define his value. That they could define him for more than what he lacked. He still has beautiful fangs. Still has beautiful eyes and his natural cobalt-blue hair. He is still perfect to you.

A sharp hiss leaves his lips, arm attempting to jerk back from your hold as your grip tightens just a hair too hard. As you accidentally tug on a far too sensitive part of the knot. Getting a little too lost in your head while your fingers pick away diligently. Trying to ease the pain as fast as you can.

“Human!” He whines, quickly shushed by a flurry of apologies leaving your mouth. Face flushed, panic in your eyes as he admonishes you.

Once again you’re reminded all too well of how far you’ve fallen for him. Heart racing, brain yelling at itself for hurting him.

It’s dumb, you know that. Everything about the schoolgirl crush you’ve formed on him is. But it doesn’t stop the frown on your lips, the gentle rub of your fingers into his skin as you try to make it up to him.

A quiet grumble leaves his lips, heart hurting at the little dejected expression you wear. He forgives better than he forgets, moving his arms back to the pillow propped on your lap, allowing you to continue your work.

A pout stays on his lips as he watches your hands move. Watches the way the tweezers move under the thin layer of skin. Watches the way you move softer now, taking your time with him. Trying your utmost to not hurt him again.

To you it feels far too intimate. To him, it leaves him almost feral.

“Been working really hard on them lately, haven’t you?” Your voice sounds, trying to distract him or yourself from wandering thoughts– you’re not sure. He’s almost clean– almost all better so you can stop playing nurse. Get a warm washcloth to soothe the skin, take away any ache that lasts from the overused glands.

He nods, “Autumn is coming up…” He mumbles, the words leaving his lips in almost a shy fashion. Like it’s a secret that isn’t a secret at all in the coy fashion he knows you adore.

He knows all too well all of the things that make your stomach flutter. Listens to your heart beat like it’s his favourite song, the flush of your cheeks his favourite painting. Every little twitch of your lip or tap of your feet he catches with ease. You are his favourite everything.

You’ve become far more interesting than any book, far more gorgeous than any actress. Learned to read you better than yourself.But he supposes that would happen to any hybrid who had to wait as long as him, endure as much as he has.

Humans are tricky things, you know? You have to wait and wait and wait just for them to finally give into what they really want. Play the long game to win a prize at the end like he wants, deserves.

He’ll win it soon. August.

“Mmm? Having a contest with the house spiders or something?” You giggle, an effort to try and keep the atmosphere as light as possible. Try to distract from any pain he may be feeling at the moment.

Jimin is convinced he can speak to them– the house spiders that you allow to stay in the corners of your house. Another one of Jimin’s pitfalls that you couldn’t help but wonder into. He claims that they’re his friends, that he talks to them all the time. You, on the other hand, are unconvinced. They probably just use him for food!

“How did you know?! Who told you!” He gasps in mock surprise, head dipping low to rest on your shoulder before he continues, “No, not this time…they all know I would win anyway.”

“I know you would,” He doesn’t allow you in the basement to look at them, at least he hasn’t in the last month, but you’ve seen plenty strung around the house. Dotted in the corners of each room, his way of claiming territory. “You’ve always got such pretty silk.”

His face flushes– he knows you can’t see it. It’s good if you don’t, better if you have no clue how much your words affect him. Exactly how much those words mean to him.

Hopefully you will soon enough. Hopefully, if things go according to plan, you’ll know a lot of things. But right now you just need to stay a little clueless. Just for a little longer.

That’s what he promises to himself.

“What’s happening in autumn then?” You ask, finally pulling the last bit of silk from his left wrist. Both finally clean, finally working like they should be.

Taking each wrist into one of your hands, your thumbs find the openings to the spinnerets. Fingers rubbing gentle, soothing circles into the flesh. Your version of a little makeshift massage. One that always causes him to fall apart under. Spine slumping, mouth parting slightly as he watches your fingers work. His brain going a little empty along with the soothing motion of your fingertips.

Another thing that you don’t understand the intimacy of. The extent of what your touch means to him. How terribly it makes him want to bite you.

His voice is a pitch lower than before. You can’t help but notice the way his breath stutters in his throat at the gentle movement of your thumbs. The way his pupils expand ever so slightly. The way he leans into your touch, avoids eye contact at all costs.

You can’t help the blush that dusts your cheeks, the flutter of your ribcage. The way you keep going just because you know it’s making him feel good.

Stop it! You’re thinking in a bad way again! It isn't right! It’s just from the massage, the relief after his spinnerets are cleared! God, you can’t think about him like this. Can’t do this to yourself! Calm down, seriously. None of this is a big deal.

You know he can hear fast your heart is beating regardless of the argument going on inside of your brain.

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

Oh. That is something all of the articles definitely neglected to tell you. They didn’t tell you anything about… that aspect of spiders. Not that they explained much to begin with but certainly nothing about breeding.

You can’t help the way your grip tightens, trying to find purchase– stability at the revelation. Heart thrumming in your chest faster, more aggravated than before. The chill that travels down your spine with the hum of his voice so close to your ear.

Can’t help the sinch of jealousy that finds you either.

Fuck, you hate that he’s smirking– without even looking at his face you can tell! You know he can hear the exact pitter-patter of your heart, any little sound or smell you let out he can easily pick up. Knows your exact emotions before you know them yourself.

“Ah… I see.” This topic really shouldn’t make you so embarrassed! Pull yourself together!

You know that all hybrids have a cycle they go through. Heats, ruts, anything in between. You knew that when Jimin came into your life he would be the same! Knew there would be a time when he’d have to lock himself in the basement, body flooded with hormones. The pretty sounds you’d have to block out filling the house.

But still, because it’s him, you can’t help the nerves that arise from your core. The realisation that it would be coming sometime soon.

If you’re going to make it through you’d have to invest in some soundproof headphones. For your own sanity.

“Mmm?” He smiles, voice sweet and saccharine. Away with the pain of existing also left cute Jimin, leaving a deadly predator in its wake. One that likes to taunt and tease you while acting as innocent as an angel.

Leaves your brain confused, floundering trying to keep up with his deceptively sweet tongue. Doing it all just to get a cute little reaction out of you.

Guess he picked up on the exact little whirlwind of your mind, “You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed…”

“Shut up!” You whine, trying to stand from the couch so you can retrieve a washcloth. Try to avoid the way your heart is going to pound out of your chest, the way you know you’ll fall farther into his clutches.

His arms lock on firm, face nuzzling into the crook of your neck to rub his cheeks against your skin. Scent you just like he does a million times a day claiming that it's necessary. Spiders smell so much less than other hybrids– he has to do it or else.

Or at least that’s what he says– you think that it’s another lie.

“What!” He laughs, “Not like I’m saying anything dirty, it’s only natural.” He chides, sliding back against the couch, pulling you into his side with ease. Slotting you in like you’re meant to fit there, not whatever mate he meets in the future.

Your brain yells at itself. You know how dangerous that line of thinking is.

“Unless you want me to be dirty? I could if I wanted, you know.” He smiles as innocently as a wolf, fangs oozing with confidence behind them.

“Oh my god!” You sigh dramatically, putting on the front you always do when your heart feels like it may just explode. When you feel like digging an early grave because Jimin knows exactly what he’s doing.

You simply roll your eyes, “And I could punch you in the dick if I wanted to, you know?”

His laugh is always so pretty, boisterous yet still as light as air. Head tilting back, his neck on display as he chastises you for the empty threat. One you both know won’t come true, at least not right now.

He smiles, a gentle kiss being placed on your forehead as he urges you to stay. Promising he’ll be a ‘good little spider’ so you don’t have to worry about him. The implication of snacks and movies making you stay. The way he pouts when you tell him you’re not buying anymore BugBitez™ until the end of the week confirming that this is where you need to be right now. That it’s right.

It’s almost too easy for him too. Everything is too easy for you when it comes to Jimin. He claims the exact same.

Or at least, that’s what he mumbles in your ear now. Arms wrapped around you as tight as he can manage. Movie nearing its end with Jimin on the cusp of consciousness, you having lost the plot of it a long time ago.

Something about Aliens? Cowboys? Mothman? You couldn’t even hope to guess. Not when his breath is in your ear.

It’s hard to focus when he’s so close like this. When he’s saying pretty words that could get you lost in your fantasy over and over again. Making him harder and harder to give him up every moment that passes you by.

“Got lucky with my human.” He mumbles, half asleep, face buried in your hair, “Really good human.”

His lips move so lazily when they speak. Fangs running across the surface your skin like they have a mind of their own. Never daring to pierce the surface. Never daring to bite you for real. No matter how bad he really, really wants to.

How bad he wants to mate you. Make you his pliant little prey– see if the rumours about what his venom does to humans is real.

Your breath stutters but you pay it no mind. Trying, begging your eyes to remain focused on the movie. To ignore how deceptive sleepy Jimin is. Tomorrow, he will act as normal. His words will carry no weight.

He isn’t your boyfriend. You aren’t his mate. You two are just friends sharing a house.

Feelings you have no right to have are forced down over and over again. It seems like it's become a daily occurrence– a pattern of habit you have no hope in breaking. The love piling behind your eyelids means nothing when the person he is meant to be with could be around any corner.

But it’s getting harder. Too hard to hold them back and restrain yourself. Especially on nights like this when it feels like fate that the two of you met.

Thinking back on that fateful day now, all of those months ago, you’re sure it had to have been. Maybe the winter gods (if such a thing existed) decided to shine their light on you; to make the blizzard a little less lonely. Make your life filled with long days and even longer nights just a little bit brighter.

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

Wanted you to live a life knowing your affections will never be reciprocated, knowing that Jimin has a fated one out there somewhere just waiting for him. Knowing that it isn’t you. Cursing you to a life of watching Jimin fall for another.

Thinking becomes so hard when it’s about Jimin. When it’s about the man who made you so far into the pits of hell that you don’t think you’ll ever crawl out.

So instead your fingers simply squeeze his hand. Rub gentle, soothing circles into the skin. Care for him like you’re meant to instead of thinking about what the future may hold. What will happen when he does find his mate. What they might be like, what they might dress like, if they’ll have to move in here, if you’ll have to watch him fall in love over and over again every single day.

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

No, that wouldn’t be fair. Could never be fair to Min. He deserves happiness. He deserves the world whether or not you’re a part of it.

You hope he isn’t able to pick up on the changes in your scent.

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

A beautiful dream shattered by the incoherent nightmare that is your spider pacing around your room. A pillow pulled to either side of your head, doing everything in their power to drown out the noise as an audible groan leaves your lips. His nervous prattling too early in the morning for your liking.

Any other day it would be fine, you would think that it’s cute. The way he worries his lip between his teeth. The way he gently bites down on the pad of his thumb, one arm crossed while the other soothes the skin of his chin.

Any other day you’d sit in bed, listen to him. Mock him slightly with how much worry runs through his body.

But he isn’t talking about his mate any other day, is he? No, it seems that the occasion has been saved for this morning. His head running a mile a minute, losing all composure he once had before. Losing his very sense of self as anxiety courses through his veins.

“What if it isn’t good enough? I need to present it to her soon. Need to make sure everything is perfect for her.” Apparently he had met her. When? You have not a single clue. Jimin hasn’t left the house in weeks other than to go hunt bugs and to go to the grocery store with you.

“What if the web isn’t big enough? She might not like the style either…” He grumbles, eyes locked on the carpet as he moves back and forth across your room, “God and what if she hates the food… No, no you know what she likes.”

“Jimin, she’ll like everything. It will be fine.” You groan, sitting up in bed to face him, voice gruff with morning air.. You don’t want him to be in here, talking about this. Talking to you about this. Shattering your heart every second that passes by.

You knew it would happen someday, you really did. You tried to do everything right. Tried to pretend reality wasn’t creeping through your windows with every second that passes by. Try to ignore the impending sense of doom that covered your skin.

Did everything right only to end up failing once again due to the rations of Park Jimin.

You try to look at him through the fuzz in your eyes, sleep still trying to force you back into its clutches with everything that it has. Try to see what he is doing– understand what he is saying. His voice continuing to speak yet not fluent enough for you to actually understand. His body twitches ever so slightly, head jerking as his teeth dig deeper and deeper into his thumb. It was almost like you weren’t even in the room– not to him at least. Lost within the tangles of his brain.

Pulling himself deeper and deeper into the recesses of his mind, spiralling out of control of everything that seems rational, everything that he is meant to do or meant to say. It’s almost like he isn’t in the room at all. Isn’t pacing along your floor, surrounded by your scent. Comforting his inner spider before it loses control entirely with the hormones that rush through his veins.

August 11th. The date was circled 5 times on his calendar– red exclamation points, doodles scattered across the stupid day. Yet now, for the life of him he can’t seem to remember why. He can’t seem to remember much of anything though, so that isn’t a surprise. Only his web. The gifts he’s prepared for this day. Yeah. Those are the only things he can seem to think about.

A hand lands on his shoulder– one that isn’t his own. Who’s touching him? He isn’t sure. Isn’t sure of much other than the smell combing through the room that becomes sweeter and sweeter by the second. Honey he is unable to resist.

Especially with how soft the hand is that touches him. How gentle it is on his shoulder, his pace back and forth falling just so he can revel in it. Understand it.

“Hey Min.” Oh. It’s you. Your voice coming through the fog. Your voice startling him from the dream.

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

“It’s gonna be okay, yeah?” Why do you sound sad? No, maybe it’s distressed. His face falls.

No, no, no. You shouldn’t be sad. You should never be sad. You should always be happy with him. You should love him. His love should make you whole. Your love makes him whole.

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

All he knows is that he should. You should. He should wrap you up in his nest, hold you close until you feel nothing but him. Don’t think about anybody else. Look at anybody else. You should always be happy and safe. Happy and safe with him just like he feels with you. Has always felt with you.

More than that stupid reserve. More than his webs back there. It was fate that brought the two of you together, right? Right? So he should be allowed to indulge just a little. He should be allowed to let go of this stupid, fucked up play he’s been putting on for so long. He should be allowed to do whatever he wants.

The reserve always taught him he was a wild spider, you know?

Wait, spider.

Spider.

His rut. That’s what’s coming today. That’s why the day was circled. That’s why Jimin isn’t acting like himself. That’s why his spider is itching, clawing to come out to play. Why he so desperately wants all of you to himself.

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

He tilts his head at you, blank eyes staring down into bright ones. Ones that hold his entire world at your fingertips.

“There he is.” Your smile is almost blinding. Makes his head pound just like the sun's rays.

That’s right. That’s why he needs to keep his composure. To keep that smile on your lips. To keep you happy. To keep you falling in love with him slowly the human way. The way he knows you’d prefer. Knows you adore every second of.

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

The human way is better. Better at keeping you pliant. Better at keeping you happy. Better at keeping you unafraid.

He hates when people are scared of him. Hates when people flinch with every movement he makes. Hates when people can’t just love him like he so craves. He’s still a hybrid. He still wants love. He was bred for it just like the rest of them.

So when you came into his life, so gentle and caring despite the palpable fear that scented the air– weighed it heavily, it sparked light behind his eyes. When he felt you touch him, felt the sparks dance across his flesh and allowed himself to inhale once more. When there were no traces of fear within you, only the scent of his mate. His eternity.

He knew he had to do the right thing. Had to make you love him the human way. Had to make you fall for him, endure the wait. Endure the daily struggles of his instincts just so you would never be afraid of him. The end would be worth it.

He would never let you fear him even at the cost of his own sanity.

Because he isn’t Taehyung. He’s Jimin. He’s a good spider.

“You need to be careful Min…” You tell him quietly. Your voice is the only anchor to his shaky world. The light brought him back from the edge over and over again today.

He needs to leave your room before all of his planning goes to waste. Calm himself down. Present to you his web and all of his gifts so you can accept him properly.

“Your thumb… it’s bleeding honey…” He tilts his head again, inspects your hands as they move closer. Tries to force lucid thought from behind his heavy eyelids as you touch his skin directly.

Tries to ignore the throb deep inside as you gently remove the finger from his lips. Pull it away from the fang that was piercing him. The sting of the bite.

He hadn’t even noticed it.

He watches as a single drop spills from the abrasion. Slipping down his finger. Feels the way your hands come up to cup his cheeks.

Leave. Leave. Leave.

The way your thumb comes to his lips, worry etched across your features as you swipe away any remaining blood from his lower lip.

Leave. He needs to leave.

He isn’t sure how your finger ends up in his mouth. His plush lips wrapping around the digit, tongue curling around your flesh as he licks away the red spilled. Sucking on it gently as heat curls in his stomach. His eyes half-lidded, staring into the recesses of your very soul.

A groan passes through him at the taste of your skin. How sweet you are against his tongue. Do you even know what a vixen you are? What a tease you’ve come to be over the past 9 months?

No. Of course you don’t. Not with the blush that rushes to your cheeks. The stutter of his name that passes through his lips. The questions that you ask– what are you doing? Wh-why?

He wants you to be quiet. To enjoy you for all it’s worth. Enjoy everything you have to offer.

The command is silent– no more than the press of his bleeding thumb to your lips. The demand that you part them for him. To clean that wound that you unknowingly caused.

A hand on your cheek directing your head back. He’s been a good little spider, you can be a good little girl too, can’t you?

You are.

“J-Jimi–” He slips it inside, resting the pad against your tongue. Holding it in place. Asking, begging for this one little thing from you. You don’t mind, do you? You’ve always made him feel better before. This is no different, is it?

And so you do.

He watches the way your eyelids fall, your lips close as you begin to gently suck against it like he so craves. Like he desires down to the very cells that make up his body.

To imagine it’s his cock instead. Gently fucking into you over and over again, teaching you how to take his it how he likes. How he knows you’ll like. You’ll love everything about him. You’re meant to. It’s in the fabric of your DNA and soon it will all be his. Right after he shows you his–

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

His rut is coming too fast, too strong now that he finally has his mate in his grasp. He needs to leave. He needs to calm down so he can go this properly.

He leaves you on the bed, more confused and distressed than when he first entered. Annoyance hovering over your entire wake in a blanket of unrest. One that you know will not ease your soul for the rest of the day.

The spider has locked himself away. Hiding from you. Keeping himself in the basement, door locked, shutters drawn to drown out any sense of you that may be persisting.

You, on the other hand, have had nothing to do but stew in your own emotions. Think about every little decrepit detail that occurred hours prior. Edicting yourself to only address him by spider even in your thoughts.

It’s spiteful, sure. But it’s the least he deserves, you know? After everything he’s put you though– pulling you along like a little puppet on a string. Making you sit idly by for him to give you any lick of affection he’s willing to part with. Making you feel special, like you're worth something every second that he gets only for him to remind you with too much familiarity that he isn’t yours to have.

He woke you up, told you about his mate, looked at you like he was going to fuck you, and made you suck on his finger only for him to leave? The sheer fucking audacity of this man.

You’re sick of it.

Sick of having to force everything down because you know it isn’t what he wants. Sick of falling in love with him every day. Sick of having to play house. Sick of not having him. Sick of being playing the lovesick fool.

So, into the novels you fall. Into alternate worlds that are far better than your own. Displacing yourself into new habitats, new environments to escape the confines of the four stuffy walls that surround your body, head, and heart.

Into a world where it’s okay to fall in love with whoever you want. Where it’s okay to feel wanted. Where reality can be shut away by your headphones and a good snack. Where you can ignore the body approaching behind you. The tap on your shoulder.

You try to, honestly. And a good attempt it was.

Keeping your grip firm on the pages, nails digging into the paper below. Breath in your lungs held as if doing so would keep him away. Eyes tracing the pages over and over again though reading nothing. Attempting to appear as if you didn’t notice him at all.

Maybe he would leave, that was your biggest hope. Take the headphones placed firmly over your ears as a loud, obnoxious hint. That he would see you’re not interested and retreat to his basement layer to plot on the next way to torture your heart.

He doesn’t. He never would.

His frame comes to kneel in front of you. To stare up at you with those big brown doe eyes that you know you could never escape. Placing a gentle hand on your knee, trying to get you to see that he is there. That he wants to see you.

You see his lips move, though ignore entirely what they say. Letting out a huff, turning your body away from his own. Continuing to mindlessly stare at the pages even though their contents holds no meaning in this moment. No real value.

His forehead drops to your leg, a sigh leaving his throat. Words mumbled from his lips you’re unable to make out– not that you would want to hear them anyway.

Maybe it’s a temper tantrum of sorts. Giving him a taste of his own medicine. To feel even a pinch of what you do. He probably never does.

Your fight is a good one. It truly is– at least you think so. But it all comes tumbling down the second his lips press against your knee. His hands reaching past your iron grip on the book to hold your own.

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

Especially when you see his lips mouth the word please. His brows crested with worry, his lower lip quivering in worry. Fangs biting the surface to try and soothe the nerves he feels.

Any sense of foreboding he held earlier, gone. The tick of his shoulders, the cold, blank stare of his eyes vanished. Your Jimin, the one you’re used to, in love with, rising to the surface again.

You’re unable to fight against the plea, no matter how much you want to. Unable to fight against him.

“What is it.” Your voice is harsh as you remove your headphones, setting the book to the side. Much more than it appears he’d like it to be if the flinch of his neck is anything to go by.

“I…” Words feel lost in his throat, but he forces himself to continue forward, “I have something I need to show you, human…”

Why is he acting so weird? Acting like earlier never happened? He seems nervous, almost petrified at your reaction. As if anything you say could break him entirely.

You don’t understand it at all. Anything about this situation, really.

“Okay…?” You watch his face carefully, trying to reason. To figure out why exactly the air seems so heavy. Why this situation feels so tense. “Show me then?”

“I…You have to come with me?” It sounds like a question, his face flinching at his own words. He’s meant to do this perfectly. Why can’t he seem to get it right? Why can’t his instincts help him with this? “Like, I can’t bring it up here… I need you to follow me?”

“Huh?” The quiet breath leaves your throat as your features pinch.

He quickly tries to explain further, trying to help you see through the worry on your face, “Not far I promise. Just to the basement, yeah?”

Your head jerks back in surprise, “You never let me go down there.”

“Yeah but…it’s special this time.” Oh.

It’s almost as if the pieces click together on their own. Your brain drawing conclusions, making decisions for you despite the obvious staring right in your face. His mate is probably down there. Wants you to meet her.

You can only sigh, accept your fate for what it is. Follow the boy with the string to the basement once again, just like the first night he came tumbling into your life.

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

Holds it as if his life depends on it. As if it’s the red string of fate that has tied your two bodies together for the rest of eternity. As if he might die the second you two part. As if you might run away the second he lets go.

You never do, never try to run away from him. You’ve tried to run away from your feelings for so long. The least you can do is see through to the end of them, right? That would be the right thing to do. The dignified thing instead of trying to throw a tantrum on the floor.

The walk to the basement feels like the longest in your life. A marathon you have no training for, no experience with tugging you along. Silence extended for miles along each creak of the floorboards, each set of the dim stairs.

Jimin left the lights off, dusk settling along the horizon not long ago. Only distant flickers from the basement coming through as you make your way down. Candle light in the distance lighting the way.

He doesn’t say a thing as your feet reach the bottom of the stairs, toes cushioned by soft silk lining the floors. He doesn’t have to.

It’s beautiful. That’s the only way you can describe what he’s turned the basement into.

Beautiful silks cover every waking surface– the floors, the walls, the ceiling all lined in brilliant patterns of white dancing across the surface. Creating stories as if they were living themselves.

You wish you could stare at them. Admire them for the rest of your life. Decipher each piece laying, coating the surface. Envisioning the world through the eyes of Jimin. Through the world around him.

Webs cross from floor to ceiling, taking space over the room. Intricately laid in patterns you are more accustomed to with spiders. Webbed hatching sectioning off parts of the space, acting as furniture for the bug to rest on.

As your eyes scan the room, you finally find what you think has to be the most gorgeous web in the world. Sitting in the far right corner of the room stands a nest that takes up the entire corner. The effort it took to make it clear in its craft. So soft, so comfortable.

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

Illuminated by only the glow of candle light, Jimin does nothing but watch as you take everything in. Watch as your face changes into that of euphoria. Mesmerised by everything he has worked so hard on, everything he’s done just to impress you.

You turn to face him, staring at him with nothing but wonder in your eyes.

“Jimin, this is– fuck this is incredible,” Your voice is breathless, cut off by how overwhelmed you are with everything. With him. “This must’ve taken you so long, it’s so beautiful. Oh my god, how did you–”

He can’t take it anymore. Can’t take it now that he has you here, has you in his web. Now that he can keep you in it forever. Complimenting him. Completing him. He needs to finish with the rest of this fast. Before he does something he’ll regret. Before he finishes showing you how good a mate he will be to you properly.

He tugs you forward, practically puzzling as he tugs you deeper into his room of webs. Expertly guiding you through each one without a second to spare.

Jittery, excited. Feeting rocking themselves back and forth as he sits you on a blanket placed on the ground.

He isn't going to last much longer. Not before his heat takes over. Before he loses his mind at you in the sight of his nest. His mate in his nest. Waiting to be bred. Waiting for–

No, no Jimin. Stop it. Stop acting like a spiderling that doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he has his mate in his nest.

“I…” He takes a deep breath, voice shaky as he tries to calm himself down, “I made us a picnic… I hope you like it.”

His spider hisses at the words, hating having to describe it as something stupid like a picnic. No, it's a nuptial gift. Evidence that he’s a good enough mate. That he’s good enough for you. That he deserves you.

You watch him, watch as he pushes the basket filled to the brim with food over to you. Watch as his frame shakes slightly as he stares at you, fingers tapping against strings of webs closest to your leg.

You can’t help but feel lost. Overwhelmed with affection, but utterly, entirely, hopelessly lost all the same. What is he doing? Why is he presenting all of this for you? Shouldn’t he be doing this for his mate? Isn’t all of this some type of courting ritual?

Oh.

It appears the puzzle you constructed– pieces matched together haphazardly stuck together with glue isn’t the solution after all. Isn’t the reality presented before you know.

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

Your eyes widen, head jerking to meet Jimin’s gaze. His pupils shaky, not daring to leave the surface of the basket. Not daring to move an inch until you accept him.

You’re an idiot.

“J-Jimin a-are we…?” You hesitate to ask, hesitate to break the gentle balance residing over the entire basement.

His head snaps to face your own, eyes plagued with the same blank, predatory look as before.

“Mate.” Deep, harsh, scratchy. His voice makes you feel like he’s going to devour you whole. Like he is the monster waiting in the deepest recesses of your nightmares when that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When in reality he is the very being your soul yearns for stronger than any other.

The revelation, the– everything leaves you overwhelmed. Emotions strung up for the stars, casting aside any comets that tried to hurdle towards the perfect glass encasing this moment. This eternity you wish to live in forever as you finally understand that he wants you just as much as you want him.

You can’t help but grab his cheeks– ignore how venomous he looks, and press your lips against his own. Can’t help the explosion behind your eyelids, the sparks that travel across your skins in euphoric waves. The way your heart swells like a balloon, racing in your chest so fast you fear you may die.

Every emotion you’ve felt that day, every nagging, creeping sensation finding its way into the back of your skull vanishes in an instant. No going back. No orchestra or chorus reprise. No thoughts of not being his mate. You are his mate.

Only him.

Only Jimin.

He doesn’t part with you, not for a second. Not when he finally has you against him. When you so easily rise into his lap. When his natural instincts finally stop screaming at him and take over completely. Kiss you with everything he’s worth. Devour you whole.

His hands find purchase on your hips, blunt nails digging into the skin. Mocking him for not doing this in the closet with you all those months ago. Allowing him to truly understand how good it would’ve felt then. How good it will feel every second that follows.

He thinks you have to be the prettiest thing in the world.

His spider thinks that you need to be bred full of his spiderlings. Fucked so hard that you wont be able to walk– wont be able to leave his nest. That he’ll be able to tie you up nice and pretty, stuff you with his cum over and over again until you’d never even think about leaving.

His spider is winning.

“Min…” Your voice is breathless, trying to keep up with the flurry of kisses he presses against your lips, your face– anywhere he can reach. It’s like he’s addicted to the feeling, like he’s making up for lost time.

“Min, I love you.” And just like that, any sanity he has left vanishes.

His spider has won.

Without a second thought you’re lifted from your place on his lap, thrown carelessly into his nest. His nest where you will stay. His nest where he’ll keep you. All thoughts vanished from that pretty little head of yours. Just like it should be.

His hands find the back of his collar, shirt discarded without a second thought on the floor. He doesn’t need it anymore. Not when he has you. When he wants to feel you fully.

You can only stare– fawn at his tan skin. The gentle muscles on display for you. For your eyes only while he crawls towards you. Stalks you just like they might a pretty little butterfly caught in their web. Wrapped in webs and killed without a second thought.

His lips find yours once again. Slotting together, filling the other to make them whole. Dazed in lust and passion, neither soul hoping there would ever be a way out for the other.

Well, there won’t be for you. But that’s okay. You’ll love it. Love every second of it.

He knows it as his fingers dance against your skin. Sliding beneath the hem of your shirt, running with skilled ease up your sides. The chill that racks through your body is evidence enough. The way you so easily allow him to draw your shirt over your head solidifies it. Your shorts follow, making it set in stone.

Your breath comes out in short pants, every slight touch, every little movement sends fire burning through your skin. Igniting you, setting your core ablaze with heat that only he can extinguish.

Fingers gently sliding over your ribs, thumbs coming just blow your breasts to rub circles into the skin while his fangs nip gently into your lower lip. He can’t bite you now. No, after he mates you he can bite you all he wants.

He groans at the thought, hips rocking themselves against your clothed cunt. Allowing you to feel all of him– the press of his cock, the motion of his need allowing you to fall higher and higher into a heaven you did not think possible.

You whine at him to do something, anything. Too impatient to wait any longer. Too impatient to live a second more without something, anything buried inside of you.

His smile is sick, twisted as he reclines back on his heels. Allows himself to get a good look at you.

“Shh, Shh…” His hand cups your cheek, smoothing his thumb against your lips. Pressing it inside with more ease than before. More compliance than before. There’s a good little girl.

“Poor thing is having a hard time, huh?” He mocks gently, hips pressed firm against your own allowing you to feel every inch of him, “Pretty lips all swollen, pussy a little mess from just kissing… mm mm…”

He groans, hand slipping between your legs. What he finds is no more than a mess of a girl. Hips bucking upwards. Slick dripping from your center, panties coated in arousal. Puffy little clit begging for any attention he’s willing to give it.

Without any hesitation his thumb finds your clit, pressing against it without any thought of reprieve. Without any thought to give you any of the relief you crave. You’ve made him wait this long, you can wait a second, no?

He groans high as you buck against his hand, mewl leaving your lips as some sort of plea. Ah~ how cute. Such a little thing so desperate for something, anything that you’re willing to give up your very head in return? How cute! How adorable!

His spider preens. Is almost so belated he doesn’t notice the hands that come down to grip his wrist. Hold him in place all so you can circle your hips against his thumb. Rub adorable little rings into your clit without any help from him. Use him to make yourself feel good.

A coo leaves his lips. Who is he to deny such a pretty little human?

“Ah pretty baby wants to feel good, does she?” He almost giggles at how pathetic you look. How adorably you cling to him. How hard you try.

His arm is ripped from your grasp, pulling back from the very place you desire him most. Where your arousal soaks the cotton of cotton, so palpable he can practically taste it in the air.

“It’s okay baby…” He sees the annoyance in your face, the battiness you hold in your heart coming to light. Excited to tame it. Excited to quell the pretty little devil in his web.

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

His fingers work fast. Arms are pulled over your head, silks quickly pinning them to the surface. Strings wrapping and wrapping until he’s sure you’re secure. Sure you can’t move.

His hips gently rock against your own, clothes cock pressing against your core. Watching as your hips buck, as you try to urge him closer with a pathetic whine.

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

Perfect, perfect girl. How did he get so lucky, huh? Can never be sure.

You’re unable to stop the cry that leaves your throat as his hands pull your panties aside, finger thrusting into your wet heat. Filling you up, making you feel a little more whole.

“Min~” The moan of his name is shaky. Every sense you have in overdrive as he works his finger against your walls. Every push inside deeper, harder. Curling against your walls in the exact way you craved.

Pleasure coils in your stomach faster than you thought possible. A second finger joining the first, pumping in and out as he prepares you for his cock. Prepared you to take all of him and nothing less.

He knows you can do it. You can, can’t you?

“Mhmm baby, I know… head a little clearer now, huh?” He chuckles, chastising, “Can only think when you’re full. It’s so cute.”

You whimper at his words, head rolling back as the coil pulls tighter and tighter within your gut. Urging you to just let it snap, feel everything you’ve been waiting for.

“F-feels good…” You mutter quietly, unable to see the haze cloud his vision. The way his amused expression drops into that of a wild animal.

Without any warning his fingers pull out of your heat, body leaving your own entirely as he stands. Grabbing your hips, dragging them closer. Flipping your body over. Setting you pretty on your knees, arms uncomfortable crossed in front of you.

He quickly rids himself of his pants, allowing his cock to spring free from their confines. Head red and messy as it hits his stomach. Angry at how neglected you’ve left him. How desperately he wants this.

You have no way of preparing yourself for the drag of his cock through your lips. The gentle nudge against your clit. Thick head dragging through your folds, spreading your arousal. Mixing it with his pre-cum.

Making you messy. Making you dirty just for him. Making you belong to him.

“Gonna fill my mate.” All humour is gone from the man behind you, as if he is someone else entirely. It’s really too bad your head has a few too many screws loose to care. Care about anything other than the way his firm head presses against your hole. The way his blunt nails dig into your flesh.

“Gonna breed her. Mate her. Make her mine.” It’s almost as if his word is a command. The very sentences he utters become law.

You can only nod your head. Give yourself to the very man that fate led you to all those months ago. “Want~”

The thrust of his hips into your walls is almost too much to bear. A cry leaving your lips as he fucks himself inside in a single thrust. Forcing you to take him to the hilt, to feel all of him stretch your walls. No break. No waiting around.

You’ve both done enough waiting.

It hurts— the burn, as he stretches you full. Presses his cock against your walls making sure your cunt remembers no one but him.

The way he gives no reprieve, fucking into you like an animal starved. Pulling back until only the tip remains inside before fucking himself fully inside once more.

“Min!” You cry, waves of pain and pleasure boiling all the same within your bones. All the same inside of your blurred head, nothing but static and thoughts of him behind the line of your eyes. Slipping off into space as you let cunt clenched pathetically around his cock.

“Good mate, taking me so well. Such a good human.” He groans, hips pulling back and thrusting into you over and over again. Making you fall apart with his pace. Pumping his cock into your pathetic little hole fast and hard. Ruining you for any other man.

Making sure he will be the only one you allow to enter heaven.

Your moans come out wanton, pleaing. Hips start to move back against him, trying to keep up with his pace despite the burn you begin to feel in your tied arms. Desperate to let him know just how good he’s filling you. Just how good he’s making you feel.

“My mate.” His pants come out harsh, breath on your neck as he hovers close. The sound of skin and against skin is the only thing you’re able to hear. The pressure of Jimin’s lips against your neck makes you feel like you’re about to go insane.

He’s desperate to make you fall apart on his cock alone. Pleasure building and building, the coil tight. Ready to snap at any moment. Ready to fall apart at his command.

“Gonna make you mine forever pretty.” His voice is featherlight once more. The switches have you reeling, your brain spinning. “Want that, don’t you? For me to bite you? Mark you up? Breed you full of my spiderlings? Ruin that pretty little head for anything else.”

He sighs, nails digging into your hips where they’re sure to leave bruises. You nod your head in agreement, moans spilling past your lips as his hips change their angle. His cock hitting the spot that leaves you seeing stars on every thrust.

“Say the word and you’re mine.” You feel his fangs against your skin. The harsh drag across your delicate skin. “Forever.”

You can’t take it anymore, pleasure burning through you. Blinding you. Unable to think about anything else other than the rough thrusts of his cock against your walls.

“Please.” It’s no more than a whimper, but he swears it’s the loudest thing he’s ever heard.

His teeth clamp into your flesh— the final thing needed to push you over the edge into bliss. Your body stutters, walls a vice around his cock as the coil finally snaps. Heat flowing through every cell you possess. The only thing in your soul is Jimin.

Your back arches, eyes dotting with black as you allow it to overtake you. Jimin rocking you against him, groaning as he fills you with his cum, painting your walls white. Allowing you to ride out your high with him. Finally allowing the rut to rid his brain for only a moment.

He slowly pulls out of you, panting. Quickly moving to cover your center back up with your underwear. Make sure all of his cum stays tucked away in your pretty little pussy to get you nice and pregnant.

You can only whimper, body twitching at every movement he makes. Worn down your bones— energy sucked so dry you can’t even feel the throb of your neck. Don’t even notice the blood that drips from where he marked you— claimed you in the way only a hybrid can.

All you're sure of is the need to be close to him. Need to feel him.

Is this what he had been feeling all along? Marks were known to do that, to allow you to feel what your mate does. If he had to endure what you’re feeling right now, it had to have been hell for him.

“Min…” you calm his name. Pull him from where he stares between your legs. Where his fingers rub circles into the surface of your underwear, spreading any cum that leaks from your twitching hole.

Within a second he’s at attention, staring at you with all of the love in the world. You’re not sure how you missed it before. How you could have deluded yourself into believing any less.

He pouts as you wiggle at your restraints, silk holding your arms in place all this time. He gently shakes his head, slowly flipping your body back over onto its back. Crawling over you to look at your face properly. Take in your fucked out expression. Ruined his pretty little human. Made her perfect.

“Don’t want to.” His lower lip juts out at you, eyes wide just like a begging dog. “Look pretty tied up in my web. Should stay like this. Forever.”

“I don’t think my job would like that very much.” You giggle, lip pouting out to match his own. He leans down, quickly capturing your mouth in a quick kiss.

Something hard pressed against your leg once more. His hand comes down to guide it against your heat. Rub against you despite the oversensitivity and cum leaking from your hole.

“Then we move to the woods together… I’ll hunt for us…” He grumbles, pushing your underwear to the side once more. Collecting any cum that has spilled out with his cock, gently fucking it back into your cunt with the head.

A whine rips from your lips due to oversensitivity. Pussy sore, aching from what he just put you though. What you aptly begged for. Yet you can’t deny him. Don’t want to deny him with how good it feels to be filled. How addicted you’ve become. Cock drunk.

“Wh-what?” You try to breathe, walls fluttering around his length as he slowly thrusts back inside. Filling you to the brim once again. “W-we can’t do that, Minnie…”

His thrusts are slow, languid. Almost like he’s making love. Treating you with utmost care despite how wrecked your entire frame is.

He is entirely unaffected. His rut leaves him wanting for more and more until you have nothing left to give. Face twisting into confusion at your words.

“Why can’t we? Make you up a nice pretty web… keep you full all the time” He hums against your neck, gently licking at his mark, “treat you like a real good mate, yeah? Fill you up over and over. Will look so pretty with my spiderlings.”

He moans the words, hips speeding up ever so slightly at the thought. It dawns on you that this must be his rut talking. Filling his head with nonsense he knows can’t come true. In a few days when he wakes up from it, he’ll probably pretend he never said anything about taking you to the woods. Keeping you there.

No harm in agreeing, is there? Especially when he makes you feel so good. So happy and full. When it makes him feel just as good. When your head starts to feel fuzzy, the exhaustion weighs heavily on your consciousness. You’re on birth control anyway, it's fine.

“Mmhmm… sounds nice..” You moan quietly, already feeling your second orgasm approaching. Allowing yourself to become lost in the same dream as him. Allowing yourself to fall victim to pretty words and false promises. Ones that he intends to make true.

“Gonna take such good care of my mate.” He groans, face buried in your neck. He feels your walls clamp around him, pulling him in over and over again. Cunt never wanting him to leave.

His hand draws between your thighs, fingers rubbing quick circles into your clit. Neither of you are going to last long. Both too sensitive to do anything but fall into the pleasure of each other.

Pussy fluttering against his cock, head rolling back as your high runs through you once more. White clouding your vision, ears ringing as you are overcome with fire. Drowning in the feeling of his cock fucking you full of his cum once again.

He lets out a harsh groan as he fills you. Breeds you just like a good spider would. Makes you feel complete as he helps you through both of your highs.

Your eyes feel heavy— too heavy to stay open even a second longer. Too tired to stay awake as he pulls your underwear back over your center. As he pulls your body close to his own.

He doesn’t blame you, never could. It must be hard having to keep up with a hybrid during their rut. But he knows you can do it. Knows you’ll do it for him. Especially with the promises you made. The ones you made only to him.

The last words you hear before falling under the veil of consciousness is a simple declaration. One you’ve waited months to hear.

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

The whine of Jimin’s voice is louder than any car, highway, hell— aeroplane you’ve ever heard, you’re sure of it. The grip of his hand around your own is like iron, tugging you along the worn trail path, trying to urge you faster than your feet will allow.

“I’m going! I’m goin!” You chide with him, giggle leaving your lips at his hurried nature. You don’t think you’ve ever seen the spider more excited. Maybe even more so than when he strokes the bite mark scarred into your shoulder– your permanent reminder that you are his and he is yours.

“Not fast enough!” He groans, head rolling back in annoyance, “The best spot is going to get taken!”

He’s told you about this spot time and time again– excitement palpable with every mention. A beautiful clearing back at the reserve, one that the trees shine perfectly through. The best spot for basking in the whole park, as well as for begging humans for snacks.

You smile at the thought. Following as close behind him as your feet will manage. Blanket and bags of food tight in your grip. After months of paperwork, he can finally return to this place without fear they’ll take you away from him. The mate licence in your wallet proof enough of it.

He finally gets to take you to the reserve– the place he called home for so long before he met you. The place where he first learned how to be a proper spider. The first place he learned to make friends. He’s most excited about the latter part, getting to show off his shiny new mate to all of his friends. The one he caught the human way.

He’s been talking about it for days, since you first brought up the idea of visiting. Of wanting to see where he lived before he met you. Prattling on and on about everything he’s going to show you, how he’s going to introduce you to Jungkook if he can. About the waterfall over the cove that you two can swim in without anyone finding out.

All of it is a dream come true for your little spider. Your mate.

You smile at the thought– how excited he is as he helps you set up the blanket on the ground. As he helps spread food all around you. Body jittery, head twitching at every little sound.

It’s clear he’s going a little crazy with joy. Entirely ecstatic to have you here with him. Sitting across from him on the ground in a way that almost mocks the picnic you had in his basement that night months ago.

Ah, sorry. Nuptial gift ceremony. He liked it a lot better when you called it that.

“Oh! And then, after we eat, I can introduce you to the head of the park! She’s Namjoon’s mate, but she doesn’t know it yet.” He talks to himself, chatting idly about nothing as he presses another strawberry to your lips. You eagerly take it, biting down on the fruit without a second thought.

You cover your mouth with your hand as you speak, “Really? It must be difficult to confess to her, then.”

He nods his head, overexcited as he looks past you into the trees. Nose twitching as he tries to pick up a scent. Yellow tinted sunglasses high on his nose to block any light from hurting his delicate pupils.

You can’t help but think about how beautiful he is. How lucky you are to have him.

His hair has grown out since that fateful day months ago, blonde replaced by a deep blue that puts the night sky to shame. How his frame has bulked out ever so slightly. Pretty tan skin looking more healthy than ever. His head off in the clouds, trying to ground himself so he doesn’t pick you up and drag you off into the woods.

The human way is never easy for him.

“Mhmm… he’s trying but he isn’t very good at it. Doesn’t understand how humans like it to be done…” He mumbles.

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

“Yeah,” He seems a little lost in space, nose twitching harsher as he tries to recognise the exact scent he knows will be coming soon. Jungkook can never hold himself back from a picnic, no matter how far. He just wishes his nose was stronger.

“Hybrids just take their mate right away. Prove they’re a good mate and then it’s done. But human’s you have to teach.” Your shoulders drop slightly, and maybe if it wasn’t for the love you felt for him or the mate mark pressing against your neck, you would have understood the severity of his words. Of teaching a human, tricking them into making them fall.

“Oh…” You pout, head coming down to rest against his shoulder. None the wiser to the meaning behind his words, “I’m sorry… it must’ve been hard for you.”

He only shakes his head, “It’s okay. I just didn’t want you to ever be scared.”

Suddenly, Jimin is standing. Eyes darting across the underbrush that surrounds the treeline. You follow his vision, squinting slightly to try and make out exactly what he is looking at when two antennae pop over the other side of a bush. Twitching, pointing in your direction. Hunting down food as they move closer.

The insect moves close, tilting his head as he finally moves within your line of vision. Mop of brown floppy hair on his head, wide bunny eyes. Twitching nose all the same. If it wasn’t for the lack of ears and black antennae jolting from his head, you would’ve thought he was a rodent.

“Kook!” Jimin’s voice is loud as he quickly run’s to meet the boy. The other looks just as excited, eyes lighting up with stars as his legs take off in the same direction. The two fall into a puddle of laughter and play fighting as they fall to the ground in greeting.

The infamous Jungkook, an ant hybrid– the biggest ant hybrid you’ve seen, mind you. Jimin’s best friend is finally revealed. And you have to say, seeing them together. Watching as your mate attempts to playfully tie him up silks has to be the prettiest sight you’ve ever laid eyes on.

“Oh my god, Min!” You laugh as Jimin struggles, the giant ant hybrid easily breaking free from the others strings. Instantly the attention is on you. Jimin leaning back to his heels, head thrown back as he whines.

“Shut up! He’s gotten stronger! My webs hold you good enough!” You continue to laugh, unaware of the ant sneaking closer. His antenna tickling your shoulder as he stares at the food in front of you. Begging for just a little taste to bring home to his colony, a little bit to make the queen happy.

You happily oblige, making room for the two of them to join you once again after their little scuffle. A reunion too cute to not try and remember forever. And just like that, conversation begins to flow easily between the three of you. Almost as if Jimin never left in the first place.

The two of them spend all afternoon catching up– Jimin reciting the story of how you two met, Jungkook opening up about the cute human that’s started to come by the park every saturday. Pulling his antennae down as he speaks, clearly embarrassed. Telling you all about how they met, about the reserve.

“Ah~ don’t mind him. Kookie’s just embarrassed cause he doesn’t know how to talk to girls.” Jimin teases, leaning over to ruffle Jungkook’s hair. His arm tightly wrapped around your frame, holding you close. “Not every day that an ant hybrid has a mate outside of their colony, you know?”

“Hyung! Shut up!” He quickly whines, eyes shooting a subtle glare towards the other. Legs kicking slightly underneath his frame. “You… know what it means… especially cause she’s human…”

“I know.” His fangs shimmer as his hand reaches out to ruffle his hair, “Don’t worry. She’ll wanna be your queen in no time.”

You nod your head in agreement, picking up another piece of fruit and popping it into your mouth. Nothing much to add to the conversation– you’ll never really understand the intricacy of hybrids and how they work. Especially those like Jungkook and Jimin.

Yet, you can’t help but feel at peace with that. At peace with them and this moment. Content with your life, content with your mate and the life you’ve built together. You hope that Jungkook can do the same with his own someday. Build a nice little colony or whatever it is that ants do.

“Mhmm, anyone would want someone as cute as you.” You smile, watching as the ant’s eyes go wide. Blush covering his cheek as he tries to pull his antenna down to cover them. Jimin instantly pounces on the other, starting a new round of play fighting. Laughing about having to defend his mates honour. That she isn’t allowed to look at any other hybrid. No one but him.

You giggle along with them, leaning back from your spot. Taking a mental picture of the scene in front of you. Jimin happy, playing. The sunset over the horizon as the three of you laugh in the woods. As Jimin no longer looks anything like that spider all those months ago.

And maybe he’s right. Maybe you did fall into his trap lined with silk. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Even when you wake up in the middle of the woods. When you wake up in a cabin decorated in pretty webbing. When you come to find society is far behind you. When you discover no one else other than Jimin telling you that this is exactly what you asked for.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

⋆𐙚 if you enjoyed this fic, please consider buying me a kofi!

© all rights reserved to ctrlhope 2019-2024 ; do not copy, plagiarise, or translate.

[osachiyo]

❏ SEETHING ENVY !

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, kunikida, ranpo, fyodor & nikolai x fem! reader

﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : nsfw content, jealousy, threats of cheating, toxic relationship in nikolai's, pussy slapping, choking, scratching, name calling, degradation, msub in Dazai’s, yandere reader in Nikolai's, edging, toys, oral (m & f receiving), brief mention of murder and torture but it's very vague, throat fucking etc

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : jealousy jealousy

﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : I know the sneak peak of this post had a different title but I think this one suits it way more. Happy reading! Requests are open btw! ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── MINORS DNI

DAZAI ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Dazai loves to see all of your reactions. He finds them so amusing. Your eyes shining bright like stars when you're happy, when you're practically jumping with excitement, your cheeks heating up when you're flustered, your pretty eyes narrowing and brows furrowing when you're angry or upset, your eyes glossing over as they threaten to overspill the tears when you're sad...He loves to see them all. So that's why he comes up with the idea to make you jealous. I mean, what could go wrong?

You watch your lover’s eyes roll back from overstimulation, his cock swollen and angry from being used so many times. But you didn’t care, just like he didn’t care about how pissed you’d be while flirting with that waitress from the cafe. God, was it infuriating. But it’s alright, you would never miss a chance to mark your man up nicely, your nails clawing on his back while he hissed from the sting. But he didn’t complain, he actually enjoyed the pain of you marking your ownership over him.

“You fucking manwhore, how many times did you cum?” You scoffed, your hips not slowing down. You slapped his cheek gently when he didn’t answer, the soft flesh damp with sweat and your slick. He opened his eyes, looking up at you riding the soul out of him, your soft tits bouncing with every slam, your plump ass meeting his hips while he massaged the soft fat. “Fuck- uh.. four?—“ he wheezed when your hands wrapped around his throat even tighter, making it hard for him to breathe. “Wrong answer… let’s keep going until you get it right- Haah— okay?” He could only throw his head back in response, shooting blanks into your puffy cunt.

He had a long night ahead of him.

CHUUYA ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Chuuya was a very confident man. He was confident in himself and your relationship. But that stupid fuck Dazai—

“Hey~ Belladonna, are you here alone?” Dazai smirked, taking your hand in his larger one before gently kissing your palm. “You look like you could use some company, no?” He was about to kiss your knuckles but suddenly— “She’s fine.” Your hand gets snatched away by your boyfriend, Chuuya. Dazai shows a face of disgust before sighing in disappointment. “Yeah okay, whatever. If you need some better company, don’t be shy to ask Chuuya for my number, pretty gi—!” A punch was thrown at his face.

“Stupid fucking suicidal piece of shit..” Chuuya mumbled, head squashed between your thighs which were decorated with bruises. Shades of purple and blue staining your pretty skin as he sucked on it, dangerously close to your core. His hand smoothed out the fabric of your expensive dress. When you agreed to go to a bar with your fiancé, you didn’t expect to be eaten out by him in one of the fancy bathroom stalls. Your hands were struggling to find something to stabilize yourself. “Chuuya..what if someone— mm..what if someone comes in..?” He only groaned in response, finally taking you into his warm mouth while his hands played with the soft fat of your ass. “Let them.” He muttered into your pussy, the vibrations of his gruff voice made your toes curl as your hand came down to find itself tangled in his copper locks. As if the universe had heard you, someone walks in. You put your other hand over your mouth, trying your best to silence any noises that could slip out. Then suddenly— the unknown man spoke and you recognized that voice easily. It was Dazai.

Chuuya only pulled away and smirked, before diving in with ten times more effort. He had to prove to Dazai that only he could pleasure you like this and you were his.

KUNIKIDA ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Kunikida, bless this man's heart, was the best husband you could ask for. He had it all, looks, stable income, intelligence and he was sweet. You loved how nice he was to you, always making sure you're comfortable and happy. He was the ideal man of your dreams. But as much as you loved him being sweet and kind to you...you wanted something more. You wanted to get on his nerves, wanted to be manhandled by him. So what better way to do that than to make him jealous?

"Stay fucking still." Your husband growled, frantically unbuckling his belt while he held you down with one hand. Once he finally got the belt off, he tied it around your wrists, the expensive leather burning against your soft skin. "You wanna act like a brat? You're gonna get fucked like one." He spit, flipping you over so you laid on your stomach. "Count." That was the last thing you heard until— 'smack!' His calloused hand came down harshly on your ass, making you jolt from the impact. "O-one!" You hissed, your grip tightening on his silk sheets. There was a long pause before the next hit, which was absolutely brutal. The pain shoots through your entire body like electricity while all you can do is writhe and bawl your eyes out, " two- fuuck- 'm sorry! Please! Kuni—" He only scoffed, his fingers dip into your soaked folds and he raises an eyebrow, "You act like you hate it, but your cunt is practically gushing." He tsks, spreading your lips and this time landing a hit on your puffy 'n swollen clit. "Clearly you haven't learnt your lesson if you're still leaking like a desperate whore."

RANPO ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Ranpo's and your's relationship was interesting, to say the least. You two always bickered playfully, sometimes even pranking each other. One time he even put some neon pink dye in your shampoo. But besides that, you wanted revenge. And what better way to get revenge than flirting with his own rival?

You could almost taste your sweet orgasm coming, ready to push you towards the edge but then— Ranpo turns the vibrator off with a laugh, clearly satisfied to see your misery. "How's that, sweetheart?" He smirked, wiping your tears off with his thumbs. You could only babble in response, too fucked out to think any coherent thought but the need to cum.

Ranpo smiles mischeviously, pushing your thighs apart to make room for himself. He licked his lips at the sight of your drooling pussy. A finger pressed the vibrator against your clit and your head tipped back on the pillow. "Thank you for the meal~" He sung before diving head first into your cunt, the vibrator working it's magic against your clit.

FYODOR ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Why were you doing this again? Oh yeah, because that stupid Kolya told you to. You were just hoping and praying to the heavens above that you wouldn't be dead after this. It's a stupid idea but the prize was well worth the pain. All you had to do is flirt with Nikolai and Sigma for one whole day. Surely he wouldn't...mind that much, would he?

Wrong, is what you thought to yourself while you processed the entire situation. You were tied with deep purple ribbons, restricting you against the headboard of the bed. A ring gag in your pretty mouth, a collar around your throat and lastly, a blindfold over your beautiful eyes. You could only hear his footsteps, circling around you like he's the predator and you're his prey.

"So, Milaya, what were you thinking pressing your tits against Sigma like a slut?" His footsteps stopped, it was eerily quiet in the room after Fyodor had stopped speaking. "I did not know that I chose a stupid slut off the streets who will seduce anyone as my wife," he tsked. You felt the bed dip and creak, then a large bony hand was splayed across your bare thigh. "You are one lucky woman that I am not abandoning you. Clearly you don't know who your master, who your God is." He plunged two fingers in your mouth, watching you gag and sputter around them. His other hand was now wrapped around your delicate throat, giving it an experimental squeeze. He thrusted his fingers in and out of your mouth while choking you. You suddenly felt the smooth material of his slacks grinding against your bare cunt, soaking the fabric with your sweet slick.

If only you could see the almost maniacal smile he wore while doing so.

NIKOLAI ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆  

Fucked up, that's what your relationship with Nikolai was. But you didn't care. You loved him and he loved you. All you thought about was him and only him, never even speaking to another man unless you had to. But did he do the same? No he didn't. He'd purposefully flirt and let other women cling onto him like a damn leech, not because he enjoys their attention, no, he did it to rile you up. Watching as you threaten the women viciously, your tone dangerously low as you speak to them. It gets the adrenaline rushing through his veins when you brutally torture and murder these women who he had approached first.

Your face was stained with blood and Nikolai's precum as he tapped the head of his heavy cock against your cheek, montioning for you to open up. You obeyed like the good little girlfriend you were, tongue hanging out and all as you accepted his throbbing cock into your warm mouth, gagging slightly as it hit the back of your throat. He shuddered, grinning down at you, his gloved hand holding your hair up in a makeshift ponytail while you tried your best not to let your eyes roll back. It wasn't even all the way in yet. "Oh just look at you~ struggling to take my cock, dove? Should I get a new bitch, then? I bet she could take my cock f—" His breath hitched and hips stuttered when you suddenly look him all the way down to the base, throat contracting around him. "There we go... I knew you had it in you, pretty thing." Tears were flowing down your cheeks at this point, it fucking hurt. Nikolai let go of your hair and gripped the back of your head instead, slowly pulling you off of his cock until only the tip was inside then slamming back in with full force.

You definitely needed some medicine after.

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, likes and reblogs are very appreciated♡

[dabislittlemouse]

"𝐈’𝐥𝐥 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐦𝐞..”

Part 1 | Dabi x fem!Reader

CW: yandere themes, some mentions of noncon, gaslighting, manipulation, kidnapping, complicated feelings, stockholm syndrome (?), this part contains only reader’s memories.

SYNOPSIS: you are finally saved from the hands of your captor, who was now locked up, far away from you. But to this day, the memory of him still haunts you in your dreams, still so present in your life, still reminding you that you are his girl.

Part 2 / REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

“Baby..come to me”

“.. don’t leave me waiting”

“Pretty girl~”

“Wherever you are, I will come find you”

You awoke with a jolt, sweat dripping down your face. Your own heartbeats filled your ears, almost pumping out of your ribcage, as the voices you were hearing faded into the distance. Trembling, you pulled yourself out of the bed to grab a glass of water, your throat dry and sore. As the coldness of the water shook the tense feeling off your body and gave you some clarity, you took in a deep breath, calming yourself down from whatever nightmare, or sleep paralysis you had. Your eyes wandered around your apartment, at every corner and every furniture.

“You are alone” you whispered to yourself, repeating the words over and over. “You’re alone and safe. Nobody is here, nothing can harm you”

Nothing can harm you anymore.

It had been a year since since everything changed, since you finally managed to escape the claws of your captor, your lover. And yet you still get haunted by those events, still afraid of the darkness, often having panic attacks and anxiety hitting through the roof whenever you are alone. Paranoia was part of your life, to the point you had to consult with a professional and get help. Everywhere, at any time, you felt like you were being watched. But nobody was there.

Not anymore.

“I am safe” you repeated once again. “Nobody is there. It’s all in my head. Everything is okay. He is not here anymore”

Those piercing blue eyes that almost glowed in the darkness were not watching you anymore. Those eyes that could burn you just by looking at them, making you feel smaller and smaller, afraid to even move an inch as they studied you, devoured your appearance from head to toe.

“A sight for sore eyes” he would always say, his hand coming to grab at your chin, gently, making you look at him. And there it was again, a sly grin plastered on his scarred face, a grin that held nothing but danger. You knew just in that moment how much he wanted to hurt you. It made him feel good he said, the way tears rolled down your cheeks whenever he marked your body, the way you were so weak beneath him and broke so beautifully. The more you screamed, the more he hurt you. And as he hurt you, he would whisper sweet nothings in your ear, kiss your face so gently while his hand gripped your thigh and left a nasty burn mark. He would kiss your forehead and shush you, while he rammed inside you so ruthlessly, tearing you apart. He would lick off your tears and tell you how pretty you were as he took every inch of your body.

“P-Please… I-I can’t do this anymore!” the memories came back in your mind, clear as day, one of the many horrible things you had to endure from his hands.

“Hold on a bit longer for me baby..” he growled, his eyes rolling back in pure bliss. “Ngh-Jus’a bit longer..”

“N-No that’s enough!” you whined in desperation. “Stop it..”

Stop it Dabi.

Dabi.

Even the memory of his name made your skin crawl and your hands sweating, you couldn’t even say it outloud anymore. Because the only times you said it outloud were when you were begging for him to stop, to not hurt you anymore, to let you go.

And each time, he always replied by saying how good his name sounds rolling down that pretty tongue of yours, say it again, a bit louder this time for him.

“Dabi..” you whispered, not even aware that you said his name, completely lost in your memories as he ordered you to repeat his name again. You brought your hand on your mouth, realising what you just did.

You were alone in the living room, far far away from his reach and yet he still had a great impact in your life, as if he was still living with you everyday. You could still hear his voice in your dreams, you could see his shadow lurking, his tall figure towering over you, the scent of burned flesh lingering around.

It had been a year since he got locked away in Tartarus, a prison for high ranked villains which was said to be worse than hell itself. Though that had little to no impact on the devil.

You used to call him that, an evil man beyond words, how much you hated him, and yet..

Yet he made you believe that he was your true love. That no other person in this world could ever make you feel this way, fear, arousement, passion, warmth all at once. To Dabi, you were his goddess, the light of his life, as he used to say, the prettiest girl in the world, only for him to use. You were the cure to his heart, if he ever had one, your touch made his burnt scars feel less painful, it made all the pain go away. Your voice, your moans, your cries and your laughter were music to his ears, he wanted all of them. Dabi wanted all of you. He wanted you at your best, he wanted you at your worst, he wanted you broken, only for him to fix you as he pleased.

“You’re mine” Dabi would say, a possessive grip on your waist as he brought you closer to himself. “Don’t ever forget that. Even if we are far apart, even if years go by, you are forever mine princess..”

You gulped while remembering his words, those words he would always repeat until they were engraved in your brain.

He was locked away, with no chance of ever coming out of there, everything between you both had ended, you were a free bird.

And deep down you still felt his. You were afraid to not be his. You were afraid of what would become of you if you weren’t Dabi’s girl. Because you had forgotten who you were before him. He made sure of it. You could never be a normal functioning human being. He turned your brain into mush, designed you just the way he wanted to, to the point that no matter how much you hated him, your desire for him kept growing stronger.

You hated him. And you hated that you missed him. You should’ve been happy, this was what you always dreamed of, right? You always wished for him to just die, to disappear, you wished to be free. And now you were free.

And empty.

Was he really your true love?

“Tell me that you love me..” he grunted, sweat dripping down his chest as he continued to thrust in and out of you, your cunt greedily swallowing every inch of his cock.

“I-I love you..” you whimpered.

“Louder” he ordered, giving you one harsh thrust that made you yelp. “C’mon!”

“Love you. I love you, Dabi. I love y-you…nmmmhf I love you!”

And it did feel like love for a moment. When he kissed you through your orgasm, saying that you’re doing so well, both your bodies sticky and sweaty as you held into one another. As you fell asleep in his arms while he caressed your hair. It all felt good, it made you forget that in reality you were actually his captive.

You were cut off from the outside world, your friends, family, work colleagues, nobody could get in touch with you anymore. Dabi created a new world for you, and in this new world of yours he would be the only person in your life. Nobody was ever that worthy of you, he got rid of anything and anyone that got in his way.

“It’s not safe for ya out there baby..” he would tell you. “The world is ugly, and it can hurt you, just the way it hurt me. Just the way it hurt all of us that society calls villains today.. but I won’t allow it. Don’t you realise how much I am protecting you?”

He made you believe that you were much safer with him, yet he was the only one to hurt you. But he made that clear as well.

“You are not protecting me! You are hurting me!” you screamed at him while he had you tied down on the bed after another failed attempt of yours to escape and run away.

“Didn’t I tell you princess? I’ll protect you from everyone, except me..” Dabi smirked at your teary face. “I am the only one to love on you, the only one to hurt you and make you cry, the only one to break you. Nobody else. You were just made for me, dollface..”

You went back to bed, trying to make those memories fade away and fall asleep. Little did you know that tomorrow morning, another letter would arrive at your doorstep. The pile was slowly growing. You didn’t throw them, nor did you open to read them. They stayed in the box, unopened, you were terrified of what the letters would contain.

Letters from Tartarus.

It was clear, he never gave up on you. To this day, he would send you letters from time to time. You had the opportunity to call the prison and make it all stop of course, so he would never send you any letters again.

But you didn’t. You wished he would stop, and yet you couldn’t make him stop. It’s like one part of you wanted him, found comfort at the fact that you were not alone, that you still were his girl. And that very same fact made you throw up as well, you hated it so much.

What’s wrong with me, you wondered.

“Nothing’s wrong with you princess, you just miss me that’s all..” you could hear his voice answering in your head, amusement in his tone.

Maybe if you read all his letters it will go away, this feeling would disappear. Read them and then burn them. And then cut off contact for good. He won’t haunt you anymore, right? He can’t get out of there.

Dabi definitely will get out of there. And he won’t be pleased knowing that you have ignored him all this time. What will you do then? How will you explain yourself to him?

“Tomorrow morning I will read them” you whispered to yourself. For now, you decided to empty your head from all the dark thoughts and just go back to sleep.

During the same time, far away, to the heavy guarded area of Tartarus, he sat there on his cell, his eyes glued to the door, waiting. Patiently waiting, contemplating, while his fingers fixed each of the staples decorating his hand.

Finally a guard passed by, stopping right in front of the cell. Dabi stood up, approaching the door, peeking through the small hole to look at the guard’s face.

“So..” Dabi spoke. “Got anything f’me?”

“Nothing” the guard replied. “I looked through all the letters the prisoners received, though none of it was sent to you nor had your name. You sure your girlfriend hasn’t ditched you? You’ve been sending letters for a while and yet no reply”

Dabi chuckled, turning away and ignoring the guard’s words. “She’ll come around, little angel is just nervous..” he whispered to himself.

“Hey” the guard called him again. “Ya sure you don’t want one of us to check on her?”

The guard was in fact one of the PLF’s men, surely on Dabi’s side, making sure to check on him until the escape plan is executed.

“Send one of our people on her way” Dabi said. “Just to notify her that I’m looking forward to our reunion soon~”

🏷️ tagging some of the people who were interested in this fic + people from my taglist: @baby-tini @hunajan @touyalove @irinangels @marlenemckinnonsleftfoot @murderous-snail @holydayaria @cherryflavoredkisses @syrenkitsune @mossy-opal @dabislittlebeaniebaby

[oval3000]

Chapter 6

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

-------------------------------------------------------

You felt your body heavy that you couldn't move when you wanted to. Your hands above your head, tied to the head board of the bed. Your eyes wanted to open, so you pried them, feeling a bit of a burn.

"Mmh...oww." you groaned, opening your eyes and saw what was in front of you. A tall man wearing a tight, black, t-shirt that shows his tone abs and muscles. Tan trousers that doesn't hide his bulge well enough, and a black cloth covering his face. But those blue eyes. Those blue eyes that you are familiar with. "K- König?"

He tilted his head, walking to the side of the bed, getting closer to you. He took off his mask, revealing his face to you. He sat down on the bed, making the bed sink down a bit. He hold your chin using his thump, "you're so beautiful." He got closer to you, his mouth near yours. "My beautiful bunny."

"Where am I?" You felt his lips over your cheek, on your forehead, over your nose, on your neck. How badly he wanted you. How hard he's pressing the palm of his hand to his cock, feeling it hardened. "König."

"You're home, liebling." He said kissing your neck while rubbing his hardened, clothed, cock with the palm of his hand. You can feel your wet spot of your neck, where his lips are, vibrate with his moans.

He got up and hopped on the bed with you. He grabbed your thighs and spread them apart. He positioned himself in between your legs, his throbing dick touching your clothed area. You didn't fight him. You didn't argue. You didn't scream. He lifted your chin up for you to make direct eye contact with him. "I'm afraid I have to stop, bunny." He got close to your face, "not now. I have to prepare you."

He got up and left to go to the bathroom. You quickly closed your legs to hide the fact on how wet he got you. You felt so weak on his touch.

König dropped his trousers and started to jerk off. He pumped his cock with his hand, gripping it tight. He wants to touch you, to be inside you. It didn't help that you were tied up the way you were, it turned him on even more.

He gripped onto the sink, closing his eyes shut. "A-..aaah..liebling....augh...liebling....mmgh...ngh....Scheiße!" He felt his balls getting heavy, bouncing on how hard he's fucking himself. How badly he wanted you to suck them dry. To take his full dick in your mouth. To watch your eyes rolling the back of your head as he cums deeply inside of you. He pumped his hand back and forth rapidly fast. Squeezing his hard, veiny, girthy cock,"(Y-y/n)...Ja!...aAaH!....." he felt the cum squirting out of the tip of his penis. He watched as cum covered all over the mirror of the medicine cabinet, the sink, the floors, his hand, dam even parts of the wall. How badly he wanted this. How badly he wanted to fuck you. To mark you.

Your his to touch and breed. To love and cherish. To sacrifice the world for you. He knows how much you take over his mind. He would kill a thousand men for you.

After he cleaned himself and the bathroom, he made his way over you. He adored how you aren't screaming at him, how he feared your reaction, thinking that you might put up a fight with him. "König?"

"Yes, darling." He took his shirt and pants and put on a pair of light sweat shorts.

"Are you going to kill me?" You looked at him. It was a stupid question and you know that. But the feeling on your chest, the nervousness, the fear. Is he getting revenge for him being locked up? Was he playing you this entire time, is he playing you until you gain his trust, just for him to drive a knife on your back.

He snapped his head towards, slaming the drawer shut. "Never. Ever! Say that again. I'll never hurt you." He cupped your face with his hand, "I love you, liebling." He pulled out his bowie knife, which made you flinch a bit, but all he did is to cut the rope off your hands and headboard. "Let's get some rest, love."

He positioned you to your side, facing away from him. You pulled your knees to your chest as König positioned himself the same way. He covered the both of you with the blanket, you felt his arm wrapped around your abdomen, pulling you closer to him.

Your body shivered all night. You couldn't tell if it was maybe the cold or because you are laying in bed with König. His warmth body, made you feel out of place. You never experienced this before. His strong grip. His affection. His attention towards you. You never had this before. He wants you. He loves you. He said that he loves you.

"I'm so sorry (Y/n). Your mom's liver isn't responding to any treatment and she doesn't have alot of time." The doctor told the girl, sitting on the doctors office.

"I thought UNOS was going to give my mom a new liver, isn't she on the transplant list?" The girl question as the doctor gave her a nod.

"Unfortunately, UNOS rejected your mother. Your mother has a drinking a problem. For UNOS, they don't accept patients who...harm themselves and possible have them damage the new organ when it can go to someone who-"

"Isn't an alcoholic. And I'm not a match, right?" The girl finishes the Doctor's sentence.

"I'm sorry, but you're right."

"What should I do?" The girl asked.

"Be by her side. Call anyone you need to call. I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."

What if there is no one?

"(Y/n), what are you doing here?" The sick mother said with her raspy voice.

"I wanted to visit you, mom." The girl gave her mother a smile.

"I don't need you here (Y/n)." The sick mother looked up at the ceiling of the hospital.

The girl's smile disappeared.

"Call your father. Tell him where I'm at." The mother closed her eyes, enduring the pain of swallowing the saliva.

"Mom, he doesn't want t-"

"Call him!" The mother followed up with tough, dry coughs.

The girl dialed her father's number. She hardly spoke to the father. He never really showed up to any of her events or any day at all. He mostly mails her letters and card, sometimes. When she does call, he hardly picks up. When she leaves a voice-mail, he will respond with a short text message.

"Dad? It's me..(Y/n). Um...I'm sorry for bothering you, I'm not sure if you might get this message. Uh...my mom is sick and she wants to see you. So...please get back to me when you get this. Ooh and uh we're in Saint Teresa's hospital if you might be wondering...um bye."

The girl waited for hours for the response. Her mother was question when the father will get here. "Where is he, (Y/n)?"

"I'm not sure, mom. I called him. He might be here. But I'm here and i-"

"(Y/n) I don't need you. I never did. And I don't want to see you as the last face I see when I die, so get your father here. Do something good for once. Do this for me."

The girl called her father multiple times. But as time went on and days passed, not a single response. The mother would look at the girl with disgust and hatred.

The mother grew weaker each day. She eventually felt her fall through. "(Y/n). I want you to know, because I don't want you to bother shedding a tear. I know I've never been a good mother to you, but the truth is. I never loved you. You tore me apart since the day I find out about you. Because of you, your father found me unattractive and slept with multiple women." She laughed with her weak voice as you stood there, on her side. " you caused me to feel this way, and now I'm paying for it. All thanks to you. You deserve a good mom, but you're not daughter, you never were. Get out of here. I don't want to see your face."

The doctors talked to the girl about the different programs for grief. The girl worked two jobs, while going to school so she can afford a funeral for her mother. She was the only one to attend. The only one to say goodbye to her. As they placed her six feet under, the girl finally received a message from her father saying 'I'm sorry'

She never went in contact with him ever again. She never received any mail from him. It was just her.

You woke up and didn't feel Köngs arm around you. You sat up on the bed looking around the room. A desk on your right, a chair on the right corner of the room. A dresser next to a closet on your left. Near the corner, entrance was closed shut. You wanted to get up, but heard the door knob jiggle making you froze on the spot.

König came into the room and saw they you woke up. "Schatz, you are awake. I made breakfast. C'mon let's go." He grabbed your hand and guided you to the kitchen. The home is beautiful. Very antique and vintage. He walked you to the kitchen table and opened up a sit to you. You saw the delicious breakfast he made you. He did this for you, you thought. Do you even deserve it?

He sat down in front of you and immediately digged in the plate of food. "I miss real food. Not that crap they give me in that prison hell." He said, chomping down the food.

"Konig? You stabbed the piece of sausage with your fork.

He looked at you, taking a sip of his water, "yes, schatz."

"How did you end up at the hospital? I know that you're ex- military, but how?" You questioned him with a squint of your eye, afraid you might've said something triggering to him

"No, love. Not ex-military. I'm still in. They didn't like my behavior with the enemies so they had me tested and the stupid doctor sended me there." He took another bite of his scramble egg.

"Dr. Smith?"

"No, another one. My original doctor left and that blonde bitch came in like she knows everything." His thick accent with a chuckle made your heart pound. You wouldn't have thought you would find it attractive. "But it's okay, she's gone now so there is nothing to worry about."

"So you're still in the military?" How if he murdered innocent people? You thought.

"Mm..sort of. I was only suppose to be there for two years and leave, but then you came along and changed everything." He followed your glance at him with his eyes, "and if your worried about the people I killed. I have good men that cover it from the public eye. Eat your breakfast, it's going to get cold."

There was a knock on the door. You still have no idea where you are. Who's house this is? Where are you?

König stood up, placing the napkin on the table, "stay here." He walked up to the door and opened. You tried to peak who it was, but couldn't due to the massive structure of König's back. "Okay, put him in the garage. Make sure to tie him up good." He shut the door and made your way towards you," he whispered to the man infront of him.

Still sitting on the chair, you looked up to him. "Who was that?"

König lowered his head with his thump on your lip, "no one, liebling. Eat your breakfast."

He turned his back on you, ready to head out. "Where am I? What is this place, König?"

"Just eat your breakfast, liebling." He left you in the kitchen.

He made his way to the garage. Horangi was standing there, stomping the stomach of Mr.Miller, who has duck tape on his mouth and hands and feet tied together on his back. Mr. Miller saw König coming out of the shadows. His tight black shirt and tan trousers, making it hard to picture him without the white wear of the hospital. As soon as he saw König's face, Miller let out a scream through the ducktape on his mouth.

"Thank you Horangi, but I can take it from here." Horangi gave him a nod and left the two men alone in the garage.

He crutch down to him with his legs spread apart, knees bent, forearms resting on his thighs, " Such an imbecile."

He was about to take off the ducktape when he heard your voice, "König?" He looked back and saw you standing there with a fright look, "What's going on? What are you doing?"

He stood up and marched over to you, "Go back inside okay."

You looked past König and saw Miller tied up. "Why is he here?"

"Schatz, go back inside." König pointed to the exit door.

You looked at him, "are you going to kill him?"

König pinched the bridge of his nose, "(y/n)! Do what I tell you! Go back inside!" You flinched at his harsh tone at you. He noticed and felt bad, "I'm sorry, schatz, but you have to listen to me, okay. I'll deal with him, go inside and eat your breakfast, it's probably already cold."

You shook your head, "are you going to kill him?" You fiddled with your fingers. You couldn't keep your mouth shut and do as he says, you thought. However, you needed to know.

"Scheiße! Tu, was ich dir sage, und ich werde dir nicht weh tun. Wie schwer ist das!? (do what I tell you and I won't hurt you, how hard is that!?)" he yelled at you. He never to yell at you. Quite frankly, he knows he's overreacting. "Yes, I'm going to kill him. He touched you. He touched something that is mine. Du bist mein!"

"I'm sorry König." You looked down on the floor. He rushes to you and cupped your face.

He lifted your face up for you to face him, "it's okay, liebling. You just have listen to me, okay."

"You'll never hurt me right? You said you'll never hurt me." You said, placing your hand on his.

He shook his head, placing a kiss on your forehead. "Go back inside, okay. I'll be in there in a minute."

You did as you said. You went back inside. You heard the door behind you lock. König didn't want you walking in on him breaking every one of Miller's bone.

König took his bowie knife out and cut the rope that tied his legs and arms together. He ripped off the ducktape that taped his mouth shut. König lifted Miller's left food up in the air. He placed his foot in the middle of his calf. "NO! PLEASE! I'M SORRY! I'LL NEVER DO THAT AGAIN! PLEASE!" his cries didn't stop König from stomping on the calf, hearing the bone crack. "AAAH! GOOD! FUCK!" König lifted his other leg while the men cried in pain, "I'm so sorry! Please! Please! Please! I'm sorry!"

Snap

The men let out a shriek of pain, feeling his legs completely shattered. Nothing stopped König to reach his arms and pulled them apart, breaking them from the shoulder point. The men on the floor, feeling the blood coming out of his body.

König then reached to his neck and gave it a final squeeze. Seeing the life of the men quickly going away.

You waited for König in the bedroom, you covered yourself with the blanket, staring at the door. At last, you heard his loud footsteps coming closer. He opened the door and closed it shut. "Schatz, you have to listen to me. You have to do what I tell you." He took off his black shirt, showing his perfect abs and chest. The scars on his body, making look raggedy. He took off his pants, leaving his boxers on. His tone thighs and legs that made his way towards you. "Don't make me punish you."

He yanked off your blanket which made you cover your body with your arms. He grabbed your legs, which were bent up to your chest for more protection, and pulled them down, pulling you closer to him. "Why don't I show you? My beautiful, beautiful, hase."

"Meins." He gripped onto the neck line of your white tank top. "Alles meins." He ripped your top apart, revealing your lacy bra.

"My beautiful hase. Mein wunderschöner Hase."

He would never hurt you.

Right?

[strawberrystepmom]

pairing: ghost!gojo satoru x f!reader

word count: 2.8k

about: the bump you’ve been hearing in the night isn’t just your imagination, it’s a friendly ghost. a handsome ghost. a ghost who you've befriended that isn't so sure he wants to share you.

contents: nsfw - mdni. you are enjoying oral sex (f!receiving) from a ghost, voyeurism (he's a creep but reader is into it ♡), vaginal fingering, alcohol consumption, mentions of masturbation, possessiveness leaning on yandere behavior, reader is referred to with feminine terms (pretty girl) and is stated to be wearing a dress.

notes: welcome to thot-o-ween 2023! we are kicking things off with my ghostly boyfriend and im gonna be honest with u guys here, i didn't do extensive research about the ins and outs of ghost sex but he can materialize and harden the parts of him he wants to and let's leave it at that, okay? thank you to @rossithepixie for beta reading this bad boy and i hope you enjoy! happy halloween!

Another unlucky night, you lament upon arriving back to your apartment. Your keys jingle in the door as you turn the lock with your uncomfortable heels dangling from your hand, pushing the door inward and slumping with each step forward. 

Third dates usually end better than this but it seems your last several third dates have ended with nothing satisfying, polite kisses and wishes for a good evening. It’s hard not to internalize the rejection given this is the fourth person it has happened with and you drop your heels with a thud on the hardwood below, padding across the floor and working off your jewelry, contorting your wrist to unclasp your bracelet.

“Back already?”

A sigh and a shake of your head mark that you already know who the voice belongs to despite being unable to witness its owner. Tossing your bracelet down on the coffee table, you slump against the couch with an unimpressed grunt and jump slightly when you look up to see a pair of blue eyes with white hair falling in them staring back at you.

You don’t know why you expected anything less than Satoru being ready to gloat that you’ve returned home empty handed but you hoped for at least a little bit of time to lick your wounds.

“Well hello to you, too,” you snip and he chuckles. The dim overhead light shines through him reminding you that he isn’t quite human, something it’s all too easy to forget given his charming grin and affable nature, and he hops over the top of the couch in a flash and plops down next to you. 

You still aren’t sure how you ended up with a ghost as a freeloading roommate nor how you’re able to not only see but feel and communicate with him but at least he makes good company after your failed attempts at finding love. He’s always there with a silly joke or a goofy smile to make things hurt a little less.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it has been to find comfort in this specter, a figment of a man left on Earth for reasons you’ll never know, but hey - a friend’s a friend when you’re lonely.

“Not sure what happened this time,” you explain while standing up. He watches your every move, eyes dancing across your chest and trailing down your waist and hips as your dress settles back across them. Taking one look at you, hunger rises within him but he swallows it as you walk to the kitchen and he hears the telltale noise of a corkscrew at work.

He can be as patient as he needs for as long as he needs given his games have worked up until this point. You pour a glass of wine, another sitting next to your full glass, and you furrow your brow.

“Satoru?”

He looks over the couch, eyes narrowing as he sees your relaxed posture and the way you lean against the counter next to you. It has to be the dress, he thinks, that hugs every delicious curve and has made the already thin tether he keeps on his self control further loosen.

“Yeah?”

You smile when he responds, pulling your glass away from your lips. His eyes fall on the lipstick stain left behind and he has to curl his fist in his lap and keep his face neutral to keep his frustration from showing.

“Ghosts don’t eat or drink, right?”

He shrugs, arm dangling over the side of the couch as he watches you slip the glass back into the cupboard above your head. You’re assuming that he isn’t interested in the wine despite how his eyes follow your every move. It isn’t unusual that you feel him watching you, having to draw boundaries on where he is and is not allowed to be several times given how you’ve seen his face after wiping the mirror off post shower, but this feels different. Weighted. Maybe he’s worried about your ego after your failed conquests.

“Not usually, no, but we can make exceptions.”

Raising your eyebrows, you hum at the way he accentuates the last word. Another sip and warmth fills you, wine relaxing your frazzled nerves. You approach the couch again and slip next to him, pulling your knees to your chest with an amused smile.

“What’s so funny?” He asks, looking up at you through his lashes. Sliding your wine onto the table beside you, you consider for a moment what to say next not knowing where your words could possibly lead. He’s harmless, friendly, and a friend.

A little flirtation just to make sure you’re still capable of it couldn’t possibly hurt anything, could it?

“What kind of exceptions do you make when it comes to eating, Satoru?”

You wonder what he was like when he was alive - was he just like this? All jokes and fun and bluster or was he serious, tied down by responsibilities and pain? Was he this handsome even when the light didn’t shine through him, illuminating him in a way that makes you wonder if he isn’t an angel rather than a thing that goes bump in the night?

“Hmm…well. Children, small animals…” he pretends to be thinking, fingers stroking his chin and you laugh raucously at his display. He shakes his head and puts his other hand on your calf, cold fingers sending shivers crawling through the limb. You make a show of shivering but don’t shove him off, instead moving closer.

“Anything else?”

He hums at your question, hand sliding from your calf to your exposed knee. Your dress rides further and further up your thighs and he can almost see the lacy little panties he watched you slip over your legs before leaving. He spent all evening thinking of the way the trimmed hair covering your mound poked through the holes in the lace, pacing the apartment hoping, hoping, hoping that this time would be the time where you took the rejection personally enough to seek him out for comfort.

It seems his plan is working flawlessly and he’s smug, raising his chin and looking down his nose at you just enough that it makes you shutter. You aren’t sure if it’s the wine or maybe that you’re reading too much into the situation, but you watch raptly as his mouth moves.

“Sometimes I eat really pretty girls if the appetite strikes.”

Raising your brows, you lean forward and look up at him. He knows all too well what that look means, unfortunately having to witness you flash it at the few people you’ve managed to bring home over the last ten months of living here, but he can forget about them now that it is pointed at him.

“Oh is that so?”

He nods, hand crawling further up your leg. You wish you could describe the sensation, a cold static, the trace of his touch across your skin, but words fail you as his eyes blaze. The tension is thick and it’s almost puzzling how you ended up here, scooting closer and closer with each second that passes. His hand dances at the hem of your dress, fingers slipping beneath and grazing the soft skin beneath it and he moans.

“How long have you wanted to do that for, I wonder?”

You giggle, ass scooting across the couch to drape your legs over his thighs and hips. The two of you sit across from one another, legs barely spread, and you take a step to spread yours further.

“I think the better question is how long have you wanted me to do it for?”

Raising your brows as his touch creeps further upward, you wonder if you haven’t met your match in the form of the eerily tall specter that lingers over the back of your couch. He makes himself scarce unless he wants to be seen, pounding footsteps and shifting on the shelves hanging on your wall the only trace of him when others are around. 

You stop yourself on that thought and he sees awareness dance across your face, recalling the moments where your last several dates were in the apartment and you had to insist the rustling was the pet cat you do not have fiddling with things in your room or down the hallway.

“Have you been…” the accusation slips past your lips and you can’t stop it, head tipping as he reaches out and cups your face with his free hand, one hand still sliding across the bottom of your panties. His cool fingers are a rush across your heated skin, hotter now than it was a few moments prior, and he nods.

“Yeah, I have been.” He expects you to react more strongly than you are but your mouth remains agape and wordless. “You keep bringing these idiots home and it’s my job to make sure they know you already have everything you need right here.”

He shifts position onto his stomach, his long legs dangling over the arm of the couch as his lips, cool and soft, follow the same pattern his fingers were previously taking. He laces your calf with kisses, licking the curve of your knee and nibbling as he reaches the soft of your inner thigh and you feel your hips buck instinctively. 

You should kick him off of you, disgusted by his antics, but you feel your slick pussy lips rub against one another as you shift where you sit. Those electric eyes are locked on you and he dips his fingers beneath the lace that spurred his frenzy, groaning as he comes into contact with your searing hot warmth and the wetness seeping from your cunt.

“Seems like you aren’t disappointed to hear that,” he taunts, nibbling your soft skin again while working one long digit across your slit. You gasp when the back of his finger brushes against your swollen clit and he chuckles. “You wanna hear what else I’ve been doing since we’re bein’ honest?”

Satoru’s finger traces the same pattern through your slit, finger gliding easily along the sensitive skin and you nod, lip between your teeth. You want to witness exactly what he’s doing to you because the feeling is indescribable - more intense than anything you’ve ever felt. 

“I’ve been watching you,” he withdraws his finger from your panties and you whimper, brow furrowing. Eyes fixed on him, you watch as he pulls the finger into his mouth and hums at the taste. The wet digit is removed from his mouth with a pop and he slides it back into your panties, dipping into your cunt only to make your back arch. 

“Watching you do that,” he nods at your last movement. “With that noisy vibrator. With the showerhead.” He continues, mouth moving closer to your panty covered pussy with each word. “With people who don’t deserve it.”

Another chill runs through you at the insinuation that he has been watching you…everywhere. In the shower, in your bedroom, in the living room with a blanket pulled over your lap for some sense of decorum. Your walls clench around his finger and he finally lowers his face to your pussy, licking a broad stripe over the front of your underwear. 

Tipping your head back, you moan his name and it’s the sweetest sound he has ever heard in life or after it. He licks another strip, tip of his tongue tracing your slit through the lace, and you reach behind you to grasp onto a throw pillow.

“I’ve been waiting for when you’d pick up on it but it seems my pretty girl wanted to believe I’m nothing but a friendly houseguest,” he taunts from between your legs but you are at his mercy enough that you don’t mind the challenge. 

You like the way his eyes shine as they look down at your core, as if he’s found a prize that he has searched many lifetimes for. He has and he holds himself back from making further moves, taking the time to keep you wound up.

“You’re mine now no matter who you bring in here, you know that right?”

You nod, and he tuts from below. You aren’t getting off that easily.

“Say it,” he prompts. “Say you’re mine.”

Untucking your lip from between your teeth, you reach out and try to grab his face but find it’s futile, phasing through him as it drops back down to the couch below. You try again, raising your hand to be met with the same results, and he waits.

“Say it and I’ll let you touch me too.”

You aren’t certain of how that works but he would know more about the delicate relations between a ghost and a human so you acquiesce, nodding while you look at him.

“I’m yours,” you whisper and he wastes no time going back to work, dipping his head back down to your covered cunt and pulling your panties away. He inhales, eyes fluttering shut at the scent of your arousal, and you reach to touch him to find you can merely graze him, fingers dancing along his sharp jawline. It’s enough for now, distracted by how his tongue now dances between your folds.

“Fuck that’s so good,” you whimper and he wraps his lips around your aching clit, your back arching to put all of you in his face. He loves it, surrounded by your thighs and your scent and your beauty, and he hums his pleasure around the bud.

Releasing your clit, he begins to once again lap at you like a man starved, tongue dragging from your bud to your entrance and down lower, the sensation still one you are struggling to name. You’ve been on the receiving end of good oral sex more than once but this physically feels like something you’ve never experienced, cold and hot and spiritual. It’s difficult to describe so you don’t bother, keeping moans spilling from your mouth instead.

Continuing to lave his tongue across the mess he’s making of your pussy, he swallows thickly and looks up at your pleasured face. The sight makes him smile, more than happy he has finally managed to get his way, and he adds another finger to the one he has kept massaging your insides. His tongue retracts but you don’t mind, long fingers filling you more than you anticipated and drawing gasps from you.

“Just remember,” his blue eyes fall to where his fingers curl against your pelvis, squelching with your wetness and his saliva. “I can follow you wherever you go.”

You gasp when his fingers curl against the spongy spot inside of you that makes your head swim, walls once again gripping him so tightly he can hardly move so he settles in place.

“You’ll never get away from me now.”

Nodding, you smirk and it turns into a gasp when he runs his thumb over your clit, hips canting to match the rhythm his fingers were working at before they stopped.

“You assume I want to,” you shoot back breathlessly through swollen lips. You’ve been gnawing that lower lip a little too hard and it’s plump, slick with spit and he admires the shine while you speak. “Maybe you'll never get away from me.”

Raising his brows, Satoru wonders if this wasn’t your endgame all along. Recalling all the times you spread your legs and stroked your pussy on the couch, knowing he could see it; memorizing all of the people who have darkened your doorstep, only to get you all warmed up and then be sent away - you making the choice instead to moan into the cool dark of your room while making yourself cum again and again.

“Looks like we’re on the same page then,” he confirms and you smile. His mouth goes back to work, tongue slurping and drinking every bit of you that he can, and you feel yourself edging closer and closer to cumming for him, for real, this time. 

His fingers work inside of you and he closes his mouth over your sensitive clit, your mouth opening in a wordless shout with your release. You weren’t expecting it to come just yet but you won’t complain, head drooping backwards and eyes shut tightly. The on top of the world feeling is coaxed out of you for as long as it can be, his mouth mercifully releasing you when you start breathing heavily. 

His face rests against your thigh, glistening chin backlit and shining, and you reach out to touch him again and gasp when your touch lands, fingers wrapping around his jaw. Again, you won’t question it knowing that the best orgasm of your life just came at the hands of this man…or spirit…Whatever he is, you aren’t terribly concerned about it.

“I feel like I need to take you out to dinner now,” you tease breathlessly and he laughs, cheek still pressed to your thigh. Placing a kiss, he winks in your direction and you feel that familiar heat rise in you once again.

“We have all the time in the world for that, now don’t we?”

[lunaflowers]

making up (yandere!chanyeol)

pairing: yandere!chanyeol x reader word count: 1.7k genre: smut, angst, yandere synopsis: after an especially violent punishment, chanyeol decides that he wants to make things up to you warnings: yandere, abuse, past physical abuse, cunnilingus, dom!chanyeol, sub!reader, daddy kink, stockholm syndrome, victim blaming a/n: this is a yandere story, meaning it contains many dark elements. please heed the warnings and don't read this fic if this type of content makes you uncomfortable. i do not condone the behavior exhibited in this fic and i don't believe the member(s) featured would either.

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

You stretched out your bare legs, examining the faint purple and blue marks littered across them. They were only just becoming visible, just as Chanyeol said they would. You knew he hadn’t meant to leave you so bruised up, he never meant to. He was just so passionate, so full of emotion and it burst out of him in unexpected, violent ways at times. He couldn’t help it.

Besides, you were no angel either. You could be difficult, stubborn, selfish. It’s what Chanyeol said to you constantly. He repeated the words with venom on his lips whenever you made him angry. It was your fault he had to get violent with you, your fault he had to discipline you, your fault for being such a bitch, a cunt, for acting like a slut, for being too friendly with his group members, for meeting up with your friends behind his back. It was always you who did something to provoke such a reaction from him.

You heard the door to the apartment being unlocked, and you quickly covered your legs with your long skirt. Chanyeol didn’t like being reminded of what he’d done to you during one of his violent fits and you didn’t want to upset him again.

Your boyfriend entered holding a single rose in one hand, and his keys in the other. You got up to greet him and when you did he held the flower out to you, head down, almost shyly, like a teenager confessing to his crush for the first time.

“For you,” he mumbled, and you took it with a grin, taking a whiff of the flower while he closed the door behind him, locking it securely. The door locked from the inside as well as the outside for your protection, according to Chanyeol. From deranged saesangs to run-of-the-mill paparazzi, who knew what kind of trouble you could run into if you were out in the world, all by yourself. Chanyeol wanted to protect you from all that. He was always so considerate of your safety and you were so grateful to him for it.

“Thank you,” you said, as he pulled you into his arms, squashing you in one of his signature Chanyeol cuddles, lifting you off the ground slightly and putting you back down again. His large body enveloped you completely and there was nowhere in the world you felt safer.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he said, breathing warmly into your neck, “I lost my temper again and… I shouldn’t have let myself take it that far.” He pulled back and locked his large eyes with yours. “Will you forgive me?”

You could see in his face how awful he felt, how he’d been beating himself up over what he’d done to you. Despite his flaws, he was a good person. And he loved you dearly, more than anyone ever had or would, you knew that. 

“Of course,” you said, and you saw his face light up with a smile. He kissed you on the mouth, lifting you up again as he did so and spinning you around. You couldn’t help but smile too, breaking the kiss and letting out a little giggle.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he said mischievously, putting you down and grabbing you around the wrist, pulling you towards the bedroom that the two of you shared.

“Right now?”

He didn’t say a word as he began to pull your skirt and top off and pushed you onto the bed. You had no bra on, and you lay there in front of him in nothing but a pair of panties. He eyed you up and down. You could see his eyes lingering on the burgeoning bruises that were everywhere and you felt suddenly self-conscious.  You knew he loved your body but you hated him seeing you like some broken little doll.

Before you had a chance to speak, Chanyeol reached out and touched one of the bruises on your thighs lightly, a look of regret on his face.

“It’s okay,” you said, pulling yourself up onto your elbows. You wanted to assuage his guilt in any way that you could. “It doesn’t hurt much.”

“I know you’re trying to make me feel better,” he said, still running his fingers softly over one of your bruises. “But even so, I really hate it when you fucking lie to me.” He wrapped his large hand around your thigh and dug his thumb into a particularly dark purple patch there and you yelped in pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you cried out, and Chanyeol released his grip on your leg. 

“Did it hurt?”

You nodded, tears filling your eyes. 

“Good,” he said, kneeling down between your legs. “That’s what happens when you lie to me. About anything.” He pulled your panties down your legs and threw them on the ground beside him. He then pulled your legs apart and stared close up at your already soaked cunt.

“Dirty girl,” he smirked, “You like it when I hurt you, don’t you?” He was running his fingers up and down your folds, spreading your wetness around.

“Yes,” you admitted, shamefaced.

In response to this, Chanyeol gave your pussy a smack that made you cry out in a mix of pain and pleasure.

“You fucked up little whore,” Chanyeol continued with another sharp smack. “You know that this pussy was made to be used and abused by me, right?”

“Uh-huh,” you said, shakily.

“I can’t fucking hear you,” Chanyeol said, sticking two of this long fingers into your cunt at the same time. God knows you were wet enough but it still stung a little.

“Yes Chanyeol,” you said, breathlessly, “My pussy was made for you.”

“Good girl.” He began kissing you up your thigh while kneading your breasts with his hands. He kept using his lips and tongue around your cunt, but not on it.  Every time he would get close, he would move away again. You could feel yourself getting more and more aroused and were starting to feel resentful of the way he was teasing you.

“Chan…” you said, breathless with desire. “Don’t torture me here.”

He stopped, removing his lips from your outer labia and for a second you wondered if you’d annoyed him before you heard him chuckle.

“Oh? Is my baby feeling eager? Does she want daddy to eat her slutty pussy and make her feel good?”

So that was it. He wanted you to call him daddy. You hated it, and he knew how much you hated it and honestly it seemed to turn him on that you hated it so much, degrading you by making you say it.

“Yes…” you said, the word daddy catching in your throat. “Sir.” You hoped it would be enough, but really you knew he would get what he wanted. Chanyeol always got what he wanted.

“Hmm, I don’t think you want it bad enough, kitten,” he said, blowing cool air on your clit, making you feel the absence of him even more.

��Nooo,” you protested, “I do want it… daddy.” You said the last word hesitantly and he smirked. 

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you. What was that again? Does my baby want daddy to eat her slutty pussy or not?” Chanyeol asked devilishly, while inserting one finger into you and taking it out again after a few pumps.

“Daddy,” you said, louder this time, while moaning out at the intrusion, “Please… I want you to eat my slutty pussy, daddy,” you repeated the word for good measure. It was becoming slightly more comfortable on your tongue now, or perhaps you were just that desperate.

Chanyeol smiled, “You’re so pretty when you’re obedient. I’ll give you what you want, baby.” He leaned forward and made contact with your clit for the first time, licking it and then suckling it gently.

You moaned, arching your back as Chanyeol kept on at it. He was so talented with his mouth and tongue, so attuned to your body, hitting every spot that made you whimper and whine.

“Daddy, oh daddy…” you moaned out, not feeling an ounce of shame anymore. All you wanted was for Chanyeol to keep doing what he was doing and you’d say anything to make sure he did.

“Yes princess?,” he said, in between licks and suckles.

“I- I’m just… That feels so good,” you replied, completely out of sorts. 

He reached up and grabbed one of your hands, interlacing his finger with yours as he continued to eat you out. You were squeezing it with all your might as the pleasure between your legs grew, but he didn’t seem to feel a thing.

“Oh, god, yes, Daddy…” you mewled. The way you were crying out was making him more ravenous. It was animalistic, his want for you. He became sloppier, harsher. He inserted two fingers into your cunt, finding your sweet spot immediately. God, he was so fucking good at knowing your body.

Your hips were bucking desperately now and Chanyeol had to let go of your hand, using his own to grab one of your hips and hold it down. You were so close, so close, to your orgasm and you could only hope that Chanyeol wasn’t in the mood to edge you today. You didn’t think you could handle it.

“Daddy!” You almost shouted, on the verge of desperation now,”I’m gonna cum. You’re gonna make me cum…”

Chanyeol responded to this by redoubling his efforts, groaning into your clit as he finger fucked you. “Come, princess, I wanna taste it.”

It was only a few more seconds before you reached your climax, your body tensing and then releasing so that you could feel it in every inch of your body. You convulsed slightly, the pleasure so powerful. Chanyeol watched from his vantage point between your legs, your breasts shaking as you did.

He got up and got onto the bed with you as you came down from your high, wrapping you in his arms once again. He kissed you on the forehead and cheek, pulling the comforter of the both of you.

“Thanks, Chanyeol,” you said, now that you were back in your right senses.

He smirked and kissed you again. “Everything’s going to be good from now on,” he said, “You’re gonna be a good girl and you won’t make me do bad things to you, right?”

“I’ll be good,” you said, both to him and yourself. You knew you needed to be better. You hate the way you provoked him.

“I know,” Chanyeol said, with nothing but sweetness in his voice. “Because if you don’t, I’ll have to bruise that pretty face of yours up too.”

☆*: .｡. o🖤o .｡.:*☆

[kanri-domo]

I have a few ideas to spew then, if you're ok with them — but they're all dottore related

imagine being infatuated with akademiya Zandik, watching him in class; staring at him as you fantasize about taking what should be yours, zoning out to the idea of pounding his hole untill he ends up liking it ❤️

either that, or, sth I think about a lot — cannibalizing omega build Dottore, for some reason.

Just.. auuh

Lmao I'm so sorry it took this long for me to answer >3> This somehow ended up more as a yandere piece more anything haha... I hope you like it

Characters: Il Dottore/Zandik, NB! Reader, can be read as either/or

Warnings: Yandere! Reader, Parasocial Relationship

He’s too pretty for his own good.

It’s an ugly thought, but it’s one you have quite often. With his smooth pale skin, soft blue hair, and cold red eyes, it’s pretty much agreed throughout the students of the Akademiya that despite his personality, Zandik was extremely attractive. You think it’s cute though, the way he obsesses over ruin guards like you obsess over him.

You don’t see him often, being in a different Darshan and all, but you fantasize about him enough that it doesn’t take long before you actively seek him out. You watch him in the library, hiding yourself between the bookshelves and pretending to be browsing; you watch him the hallways between the dorms, acting as if it were coincidence for you to leave the dorms at the same time; you watch him during the few times you two share classes, letting the professor’s words drown into nothingness as your brain only had thoughts for him; you watch, and you watch, and you watch. You’re lucky that Zandik seemed more interested in his research than he is in the people around him.

Your imagination is just as obsessive as you are – your dreams are filled with of bending him over, fucking him senseless in the library, muffling Zandik’s moans and whimpers with whatever you have on hand, lest you two get caught. You daydream of stuffing him full of toys and locking him with a chastity belt, ass full and horny, but unable to relieve himself as he goes about his day. Your thoughts fill with pounding him over the desks in the classroom, fucking him until he cums over and over again until he’s shaking from the oversensitivity, letting the fluids spill everywhere, as if animals marking their territory.

He probably wouldn’t be willing at first, you sometimes muse, but he was made for you, you delude yourself. If only Zandik wasn’t so into his research, you think, he’d realize that you’d would be perfect together, that you could satisfy whatever urges that he’d have and more. Not those pests that flocked towards him, all blood-sucking fleas that were only attracted to his looks, all thinking they could change him for the better.

Every time one of his fans flirted with him, you imagined punishing him for cheating on you. You imagined tying him up to a chair, stark naked. You’d pinch him nipples until they turned red and hard, and his cock was stiff and dripping with need. He’d be blindfolded and gagged, but you’d hear his whimpers and moans all the same, muffled noises of begging reluctantly being dragged out of him and tears soaking into the blindfold. You’d play with him for as long as you can, licking his balls and dragging your tongue to the tip of his cock, teasing and slow. You’d taste the tip of his cock, precum dripping out as if it were crying as well, before ignoring it entirely, abandoning it in favor of his hole. You dream of roughly fingering him for his imagined cheating, making sure to hit his prostate with each thrust, but stopping right before he cums. You’d wait a bit, letting Zandik’s muffled begging wash you over, before you start again, and repeating the process over and over again until Zandik was mush against the chair, too fucked out and needy to form coherent thoughts.

Zandik was yours, even if he didn’t know it yet. You’d make sure of it. It didn’t matter that you’d only exchanged words with him a couple of times. It didn’t matter that he probably didn’t know your name. It didn’t even matter that Zandik very likely didn’t even know you existed. You loved him for who he was, and you were the only one who could ever love him so much. Even if Zandik rejected you at first, it was because he was shy. You were the only one for him, and even if you had to work hard to make sure he knew it, Zandik would eventually love you back.

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Yandere Alejandro Headcanons

Warnings: 18+, suggestive content, vague smut, no pronouns used for Reader except 'You', marking, riding, praise kink, switch! Alejandro w/ top lean, cum play (?), yandere behaviour, possessive behaviour, obsessive behaviour, implications of stalking, Stockholm Syndrome, pet names, mention of voyeurism, surveillance, murder, forced relationship (at first), paranoid/jealous Alejandro, etc

WHEW, okay.

Alejandro is a passionate man. And when he falls, he falls hard.

Like, clipping through the floor and into the Backrooms level of hard.

Whatever you did to get his attention, you've eneamoured him, which is both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing in that this man, regardless of whether he's a yandere or not, is loyal.

He's your shadow, going wherever you go, watching over you like a morally ambiguous angel.

He's a trained, professional killer, so this man has no qualms or difficulty in reducing someone he deems as a threat to you (or your relationship) to a mere blood spatter on a pavement in some alleyway.

However, he will hold back on such murderous activities if you tell him to.

He can't resist you.

Like, at all.

He'd do literally anything for you.

Once, you joked around, asking him what he would do if you lost your heart. Like it just vanished, completely disappeared. Poof!

This man got down on one knee and proclaimed, knife in hand (where did he get the knife?): "I would carve out my own and lace it into your chest, and I would always be with you, my love coursing through your veins as it does through mine."

"Oookay, big guy, let's get you to bed..."

You made sure to watch over him that night and make sure he did no such thing. Because you knew he meant it.

You made sure to hide the knives behind a locked cupboard door after that.

Like I said, he's a passionate man.

In the early stages of your (forced) relationship, you just knew he was quite physical.

He wasn't malicious; far from it!

He just loved you so much that he wanted to express it in ways that words couldn't articulate.

However, after you expressed that you weren't comfortable with physical touch after, you know, being kidnapped by him, he basically had his hands tied behind his back whenever you were around.

Even backed away from you if you nearly brushed up against him (whether intentional or not) like he was in dodging a bullet.

It was actually you who, after Stockholm Syndrome kicked in, had initiated physical contact.

You slid your hand over the blanket that covered you while you sat in the sofa, watching a film.

Your finger just grazed Alejandro's, and when I say this man jumped, I mean he was like a cat pinned to the ceiling.

He was about to apologise to you for...being in your way?

Until you interrupted him, giving him a hesitantly wide-eyed look.

You tried again, embarrassed to vocalise (and realise) that you wanted to hold hands with the man who'd stolen you.

He was rigid, almost shaking, deathly afraid of losing you in ways he couldn't even fathom yet, all because you brushed hands for a ghost of a second.

"It's okay," you said. Your green light for Alejandro to relax.

He seemed to do so, albeit marginally, as his shoulders softened, losing their boxy edge.

His large, rough hand slowly merged with yours, fingers interlocking, filling the empty spaces.

Yours was soft between his, not having known work since your capture.

You put the thought out of your mind, trying instead to focus on how you were feeling right now than how you'd been feeling for the past few months.

You could feel his hand shaking in yours for a long time afterwards, a frightened bird in your grip.

You smoothed the back of his hand with your thumb, not looking away from the TV casting a white glow upon your face and hiding the blood rushing to it.

You felt his fingers twitch, desperate to just take your hand in his and just kiss it black and blue.

But he held back, waiting you to come to him when you were ready.

Alejandro gradually got braver after that initial encounter, though.

He seemed more comfortable taking your hand in his, which, whenever you initiate first, he melts.

Puppy of a man.

At some point in the relationship, about 6 months in, Alejandro wanted to test your loyalty.

He left your home, making a big song and dance about how he was going to the shop and wouldn't be back for an hour or two.

He left the front door unlocked and hid behind the curtained window of a friend's house across the street.

The friend was unaware of your situation, making it easy for Alejandro to lie about why he needed to hide there.

It was not easy for Alejandro to lie, however.

He could feel the falsehood burn his tongue as if he'd summoned a great evil, chanting its name and burning its poison symbols into the muscle.

It was slanderous - the baseless cover story of waiting for your suspected side-man coming to pay you a 'courtesy visit'.

The hour passed. And he waited with bated breath.

He saw you emerge from the house, oblivious to his presence, and look outside.

Your gaze was uncertain; you were considering something.

Alejandro was ready to run, to bolt out the door and capture you, return you to his house and--

You shut the door, returning to the confines of the house.

Alejandro watched, eyes wide, with only his uncertainty certain, as he waited for you to leave, to run as far as you could away from your cage - from him.

But you never did.

Ten, twenty minutes - nearly an hour passed and you'd still made no attempt to flee.

Alejandro returned home not long after, unable to resist the pull any longer.

He slammed the door open and closed behind him, and sought you out immediately.

Before you could ask him what was up, how, despite the force of his manner, he came to have such a smile on his face, he swept you up in his arms and kissed you.

Chaste on the surface, but burning with sheer desperation underneath, an almost metallic taste on his lips from his heart swelling to such an extent that he could feel it in his throat.

Or, rather, a lump of tearful joy collecting there.

You made no objections, instead kissing him back, though with unmatched, rather intimidated frevour.

"I saw you--" he said between breaths, fanning your cheeks with the flickers of his inner fire.

"--When I left, you stayed. You saw your chance for freedom, and you stayed--"

He didn't give you time to unpack that statement, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you there, lips moving from yours down to your jaw, your throat, nipping the crook of your neck.

You yelped, quick yet noticeable as Alejandro withdrew, seemingly broken out of whatever trance you'd put him in.

Everything he wanted to say - wanted to ask - flashed behind his eyes.

You smiled at him, wrapping your arms tighter around his shoulders.

"I want this," you say, placing a hand on his cheek and giving him a tender look.

NSFW

This man lives for your praise, and he makes sure to return the favour.

Calls you things like: "Mi Amor," and "Mi Corazon," (My Love, My Heart)

His accent makes it even more intimate when he whispers airy praises into your ear as he's softly thrusting into you, making sure you know just how loved you are.

Mutters things in Spanish while he loses himself in you.

He's a very strong lover, so he'll take any opportunity to show you how much he loves you by putting your pleasure - sexual or not - above his own.

Gives phenomenal head, tbh.

He just knows what you like, which you could chalk up either to him being attentive, intuitive, or having stalked you and your preferences for weeks prior to your official meeting.

He marks you when he's jealous, the primal need to ward off other men from the love of his life becomes overwhelming when something like a stray look or a brief conversation makes him believe you're going to leave him for someone else.

He's more of a top but will be absolutely delighted if you ask to ride him.

Relating to the 'stalking' mention from earlier, he's maybe kind of into voyeurism??? In that he just loves knowing what you're doing when he's away, regardless of the nature of the activity (unless it's cheating - in which case he does not enjoy seeing what you're doing).

And he sees it all through the camera system he has installed in every room and crevice of the house.

Seeing you in his shirts makes him feel some kinda way.

Another aftercare king over here; he knows exactly what you need and when you need it, and he will not rest until all your needs are met.

Btw, he's mad insecure that you'll leave him one day, (would you believe it).

And the only way to reassure him is to either marry him, or give him the most atrocious, knee-buckling head known to man.

Tbf tho, Alejandro thinks your head, regardless of how good your game is, is spectacular - just because it came from you :>.

Cum play; man loves just covering you in himself because it reminds him that you're his.

It's more reassurance for himself rather than to exert power or authority over you.

Back to SFW

Alejandro knows you inside and out.

He takes a vested interest in anything and everything you like; he can name ever main, background and side character from any book, film or animated series you like. Also knows your top 25 favourite songs off by heart.

If you show that same level of attentiveness to him, he will be absolutely whipped (more so than he already is).

He's the first to say "I love you." And if/when you say it back, he's already planning the wedding in his head, the image becoming clearer, more of a certainty than a fantasy.

His eyes go really wide and glassy and he's looking at you like he has the Universe in his arms.

Because in his view, he does.

He loves you more than he thinks is physically capable for any human, and he will do anything to keep you safe and happy.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[sojuyae]

verdict of heaven

summary: (Oda's pen danced across the paper. A single stroke at a time, he crafted him, shaping him into something magnificent, something that shone like the sun. But as quickly as he had breathed life into him, your existence had taken precedence over all else.) 

dazai osamu / reader

notes: mild yandere themes, this is ummm after PM! Dazai? but before ADA? unhealthy relationships, dazai bathes you, dependency

"Is the water too cold for you, dear?” Dazai asks, drawing out the vowels of the endearment like he used to.

He adjusts his seat next to the bath tub before dipping his hands in the water, his bandages soaking as he cups the liquid, his lithe fingers almost making contact with your sides. “I think it’s fine.” He replies to his own question after moments of your silence. 

(You don’t understand why he’s so insistent in taking care of you.)

You look down on the water, its clarity enabling you to glimpse beyond where your arms burst with vibrant colors of purple blue and faded yellow — colors you used to when looking up the sky — colors that were once emblematic with something beautiful. 

(You’re simply an individual who was once together with someone who had been special to him.)

Yet, these wounds are not from Dazai, and he has no intention to cause harm to you; it drives you insane — when you look at these marks, all they accomplish is to serve as a reminder of what you brought about to yourself when you refuse his help.

(A dear friend he had been to Dazai, and a lover to yours.)

Lukewarm water is poured on your back, cascading down the tub, inciting ripples. Dazai’s ungloved hand trails his name with his fingertips, warmth imprinted in each letter despite the coolness of his skin. “You’re awfully quiet these days.” He stops, the initials still searing. The way the soft pads on his hands treat you delicately pains you so. 

Then, you feel soap being lathered gently on your back, in repetitive, circular motion. 

These are the same hands that wield a gun, and these are the same hands that used to bring you a rose after your work — "From him," he would murmur, and you shouldn't have dismissed the notion that Oda would be lazy enough to make Dazai deliver a single rose to you. 

Knowing that the same hands can be used for a variety of purposes and that their nature is just as complex and paradoxical as the individual to whom they correspond is an alienating experience.

As if used to your silence, he continues on his task, The soap frothing as he generously squeezes more of the thick substance over his hands, an overwhelming scent of rosemary — the same one he uses — pervades the room. He rubs his palms together, making a bubble of foam and suds that shortly spreads between his fingers, before smearing it all over your back.“

“Talk to me [Name],” Dazai drawls, a playful huff escaping his lips, his hands now on your arms — he must’ve hated your silence; his fingers now digging on your back. “I miss your voice, you know?“

“There was no need for you to do this,“ You start, voice hoarse after hours of not talking. The suds slip down your forearms, leaving a moist trail in their wake. His hands working the soap into the crook of your elbows, your body limp to his advances. “Oda never asked you to.“

His hands stop at their movements. A strange silence pervaded the room, and there was a palpable sense of tension. Your ears hurt from the agonizing silence. It seemed as though the walls themselves were closing in on you as the air was so weighted with tension. The stillness persisted, lingering over the room like a foreboding cloud.

Then, Dazai gently placed his head on your shoulder, his soft locks of chocolate tickling your neck as he absorbed the warmth of your skin. He didn't give any thought whether your shoulders were soaked. An intimate act for who you both are. Too delicate. Too tender.

“Oda has nothing to do with this,“ You can feel his lips curl up into a smile from behind. “It is of my own volition.“ 

[tcshi]

༄ 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 !

tip: use my tags for easy browsing through my works :))

༄ 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐒

★ : angst

♡ : fluff 　　　　　　　　　　　　　

✩ : angst w/ fluff ending　　

≛ : personal favorite　　

⌕ : popular　　

⚠︎ : contains mature content/suggestive

itoshi rin

　　↳ locked on you ( ♡ )

　 ↳ gone ( ★ )

nagi seishiro

　 ↳ put the record on ( ⚠︎ )

　 ↳ proposal ( ⚠︎ : suggestive )

mikage reo

　 ↳ put the record on ( ⚠︎ )

　 ↳ complacent ( ♡⚠︎ )

　 ↳ be tamed ( ⚠︎ ≛ : project yandere!bllk )

　 ↳ boyfriend!reo ( ♡⚠︎ ≛ : suggestive / bllk boyfriend installment )

isagi yoichi

　 ↳ the inconvenient way of confessing 101 ( ♡ : crack )

multiple characters

　 ↳ blue lock boys : who spits in your mouth, who lets you spit in their mouth and who does both? ( ⚠︎ )

　 ↳ blue lock boys : things they do in a relationship ( ♡ )

[gigabyte-flare]

Tick Tock

Summary: It's Leon's 39th birthday and you're going to give him the perfect birthday present

Word Count: 1.2k

Pairing: yandere DI!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Sex (p in v), age gap (reader is over 20), implications of kidnapping, pet name (bunny), Stockholm Syndrome, implication of DUI (do NOT do this, it's bad), mentions of mensuration, overstimulation, dubcon, breeding kink, Daddy kink

A/N: This was inspired by this anon ask sent to @explorevenus that immediately implanted itself in my brain and wouldn't leave. And before anyone asks, yes I got the ok from Venus to write my version of this. I can't wait to see hers when she gets around to it!

Leon pulls up in front of his apartment building on his motorcycle, the slight burn of alcohol in his veins after having had a few shots of whiskey after a long day at the D.S.O. office. He engages the bike’s kick stand with his foot before climbing off. He takes a glance at his watch, watching the second hand move for a moment before heading up the stoop leading up to the apartment complex entrance.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…

He pulls the door open, stepping inside and heading up the stairs, the sound of the door slamming shut echoing through the spacious stairwell. He proceeds up to the third floor, heading down the hall to his apartment; the last door on the left. He fishes his keys from his pants pocket, putting the key into the lock and turning it, opening the door and stepping inside. Once inside, he immediately takes off his blue leather jacket, hanging it off the coat rack just a few steps away from the front door. He looks up at the clock hanging in the small kitchen. He is acutely aware of the passage of time, the sound of the clock practically in his head.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…

“Daddy?”

He immediately turns towards the sound of your voice, seeing you stand in the threshold of the hallway leading to the bedroom. You are completely nude; Leon never saw a need for you to wear clothes; you’re not allowed to leave the apartment, after all. A couple of years ago, you would kick and scream and throw things at him in protest, ever since he brought you home, but eventually you came around, warmed up to him. Loved him.

“There’s my bunny,” Leon says, a smile spreading across his face as he walks over to you, placing his hands on your hips, “did you have a good day today?”

You nod, giving Leon your best puppy eyes, shifting on your feet as you put your hands behind your back, “missed you, Daddy…”

“Yeah? Daddy missed you too, bunny,” he replies, his delicate touch moving up your body, but then back down to settle onto your hips.

Leaning down, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, kissing, biting and leaving marks in his wake. He hears you softly moan, which brings a smile to his lips. Unlatching himself from you, he looks to you, his blue eyes hungry.

“Do you know what day it is, bunny?”

He watches you as you contemplate his question before you shake your head, “no… what day is it Daddy?”

His smile widens as he begins to coax you into the bedroom. He gently pushes you onto the bed so that you’re seated at the end. He begins to unbutton his shirt.

“It’s my 39th birthday. And I’ve thought of the perfect present you can give me.”

“What can I give you, Daddy?” you ask, squeezing your thighs together as you watch Leon undress.

He pulls off his shirt, revealing his toned torso and arms and he then begins to work on his belt and pants, “you’re going to give me a baby, bunny. We are not leaving this room until I’m confident that you are thoroughly bred.”

He hears your breath hitch and you squeeze your thighs even tighter as you twirl your hair with one of your index fingers, biting your bottom lip. He watches your eyes focus on his endowment as his pants and underwear fall to the floor, kicking them aside. He walks up to you, putting one of his knees up onto the bed. You shift yourself onto the bed more, laying your back onto the bed as Leon climbs on top of you. He grasps one of your legs, putting it onto his shoulder before doing the same with the other.

“You’re going to give me a baby before my 40th birthday, or so help me God…”

Leaning forward, he practically folds you in half into a mating press, letting out an animalistic growl as his lips latch onto one of your breasts, the other being kneaded in his large hand; his hips pistoning into your delicate form in desperation. All the while, the sound of the clock hanging on the bedroom wall reverberates in his ears.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…

Leon is acutely aware of the passage of time; he knows his window to get you to conceive a beautiful, healthy baby for him is dwindling with each passing moment, each passing day that he grows older. He’s dreamt of having a family of his own, to give his child the life that was ripped from him. And you are going to give it to him.

You were picked very carefully; in your 20s, down on your luck at a dead end job at the local cafe that Leon frequented prior to taking you home. Despite your initial protests, he pampered you, promised you that you’d never have to work a day in your life again; that you wouldn’t even have to lift a finger. All you had to do was love him and give him babies. Getting you to love him was the easy part. Getting you pregnant was the challenge. How many days and nights had he tried? But, with each new month, your cycle came. He couldn’t be angry at you, but damn did it piss him off that you still weren’t pregnant.

Tonight it’s going to be different. Releasing his mouth from your breast, he looks down at you, watching your body jolt with each powerful, deep thrust into your body. As he pushes deep, he rolls his hips up, causing his cock to push into your most sensitive spot, causing you to cry out each time. Your hands latch onto his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin, letting him know you are very close to the edge. He quickens his pace, placing his hands on either side of you to steady himself as he pounds ruthlessly into you.

“That’s it, precious bunny,” he growls, staring down at you, “cum for Daddy. You can do it.”

“Oh my go-- oh fuck! D-Daddy I-- Ah!” you cry, your nails digging further into his shoulders, your legs squeezing tight around his hips as you come.

With a few more aggressive thrusts, Leon also comes, moaning loudly as he does so, pushing himself deep inside you. He doesn’t pull out however and despite this, he leans back and watches as his seed leaks out around his softening cock. He takes a moment to catch his breath, his hand reaching down between your legs, gently rubbing your clit with his thumb, causing you to whimper. He loves the sounds you make for him, they never fail to make him hard again.

With that, he begins to move his hips once more; ignoring your soft pleas that it’s too much, that you’re too overstimulated. He is bound and determined to stay inside you until he is confident you’re pregnant with his child. It’s going to be a long night.

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock…

[arminsfavoritepookie]

HOW YANDERE JJK MEN TOUCH YOU

( Geto, Gojo and Nanami )

TW: Mentions of choking, biting, intense kissing?

When Geto’s fingertips make contact with your skin, there's a strange contradiction - his touch is both tender and menacing. His eyes lock onto your lips as he trails his fingers down your face, slowly, sensually. You feel a pulse beneath your skin and know he's reached your neck. Your heart skips a beat as his fingers wrap around the delicate skin. The impulse to squeeze harder and make you choke is strong, but he holds himself back. He thinks to himself that you're not ready for him yet.

When he finally withdraws his touch, you complain, but he shrugs it off with a sly smirk. You chastise him for being so cold and mean to you. But his response is always the same - that you're lucky. Lucky that he doesn't touch you the way he wants. Lucky he doesn't kiss you until you're scratching at his chest; Lucky he doesn't fuck his cum into you over and over until soggy tears gush down the same chubby cheeks he's caressed so many times.

You are so fucking Lucky because if he did, he might have been just a bit more forceful, more merciless, more mean- he might have even squeezed your neck with all his strength, pushing you beyond your limits.

He might even hurt you just to hear you scream.

Gojo’s lips against your skin elicit both pain and pleasure, a teasing torment that leaves you hungering for more. With each sloppy, wet kiss, he marks you as his own, branding your neck, shoulders, and the tender flesh between the cradle of your thighs. His feral blue eyes glitter with madness as he sinks his teeth into your skin, biting until his very soul is imprinted on you, his love a deep scar on your body. He's not cruel but rather greedy, drunk by his need to see you blubber, to hear your sobs for more. And he'll take you there, pushing you until you beg for mercy, until your every breath is a testament to the love you both share.

On the rare occasion when begging isn't enough, he'll turn to masochism. It's a twisted pleasure he yearns for, a pain so intense that it weakens him to his core. He's always been the strongest, but deep down, he craves a different kind of strength.  That's when he beckons you to hurt him - to bite him, pull his hair, spit in his mouth - anything to feel the rush of pain coursing through his veins.

His eyes glaze over, and he becomes untamed, drooling like an animal. And you, willing to satisfy his darkest desires, sink your teeth into his flesh, marking him as he marks you. He moans and his cock is so painfully hard from the sting of your teeth. His skin turns red and bruised and still, he'll laugh with euphoria at the pain. And when he's exhausted from the exertion, he'll hold you close and kiss you deeply until he hears those three little words that drive him fucking insane.

It's not that Nanami relishes in causing you pain; it's simply a coping mechanism for his stress. However, that doesn't negate the fact that he directs his frustration towards you. He dominates your body and mind, he senses your struggle, your effort to please him. Your knees wobble as you cling to the sheets with white-knuckled fists, almost on the verge of losing your sanity. Yet he persists, fucking his tension into you. You've been reduced to a toy of sorts - a mere stress reliever and plaything at his disposal. You surrender yourself to him when you drop to your knees, lavishing attention on his thighs. His strong, battered hands grip your hair, pulling you closer to his cock.

He belches throaty growls and moans, your lips are constantly warm, wet, and tight around his cock. Tears stream down your face, and you struggle to swallow, but he comforts you, praising your struggles, and acknowledging how badly you want to please him. He attempts to be tender, but there are times when you glances at him with those luscious lashes and needy gaze that prompt him to push your head further down until your leak spit.

You are absolute perfection, its why he can't never let you go.

[that-one-gay-writer1227]

Hi! Good day I hope I'm not bothering you. Can I make a request about a Yan Venti x reader with a breeding kink? Hehehehe

His and Only His

A/N: Thank you so much for this request Anon! Don't worry, you're not bothering me! I actually had a lot of fun writing this request, so if anything your submission made my day a wee bit better! I wasn't sure if you wanted fem, masc, or neutral reader so I went ahead and wrote it as neutral but fem-bodied. I hope you don't mind! Also I apologize for the delay, I've been working on a personal project of mine unrelated to Tumblr lol. This is the first time ive written a yandere fic so i apologize if its not up to par, either way i hope you enjoy.

Summary: A certain bard has been hiding some very vivid feelings for you that are borderline obsessive, and one day he decides he wants to take you home and fill you up after an accidental confession <3

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, manipulative and possessive yandere themes, slight overstimulation, penetrative sex (the reader has a vagina), sub-reader, dom venti, oral giving (reader recieves), pet names (baby, cutie, etc. ), marking kink, !everything in here is fully consensual!

Tagging: @hitomisuzuya hey!!! I thought you might like this one since you also like yan venti fics lol.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You and Venti met a few months ago in one of mondstat's most renowned taverns, the angel's share, and soon became drinking buddies. Usually, you two would talk about the most random things; your days, assholes you encountered, books you've read, and music.

Once you had mentioned that you were interested in learning how to write poetry venti jumped at the chance. Even started an entire class to teach poetry. Everyone thought it was for the public, but no; it'd be all for you. Everything he was doing was all for you.

He just couldn't stop thinking of you. Your smile, your voice, the way you walk, talk, and breathe.

Archons, from the first night he met you, he knew you just had to be his.

His to hold,

His to love,

His to breed

To be fully honest, he's had non-stop dreams and thoughts of you carrying his children. He's always wanted a family, for centuries he's thought about it. Raising a son or daughter in a life full of music and stories. Everything had started pure and innocent; it could have even been labeled a crush. But the more and more the two of you talked, he just couldn't help how often the thought of you being full of his seed would come to him. Slowly creeping into every one of his waking thoughts until you being fucked so full was the only thing he was concerned with anymore.

So here you are, late at night at angel's share waiting for your favorite bard to join you. It was just after new years, and the breeze was as gentle as ever in the wonderful city of mondstat. You had ordered a drink from diluc, the current bartender for the night and the owner of the place. You ordered a simple drink just to keep yourself company while waiting for Venti to arrive.

As if he had heard your thoughts, the blue-haired tone deaf bard walked in the door, a large grin plastered on his face and his lyre under his left arm. He waved hello to diluc and Jose before he went up the stairs to join you at your usual table. He took a seat in front of you and your half-finished drink. The second floor was nearly empty, leaving only the two of you under the candles aglow.

You smiled brightly at him. "Why hello stranger! fancy seeing you here." You teased making venti chuckle.

"Ehe same to you stranger, I actually came here looking for someone dear to me. Their name is y/n, you haven't seen them have you?" He teased back, locking eyes with you.

You couldn't help but feel your heart flutter a little. although your feelings were not nearly as intense as venti's, you had to admit you had definitely been struck by cupid to some degree. He was someone who intrigued you and made you laugh when no one else could, something you were very happy to have in life.

"I might have heard that name a few times, any more information on this Y/n?" You wanted to keep this going for just a little bit longer to see how much you could bring out. You were beyond curious and honestly the wine you'd had made you tipsy so there was no fear of him discovering your little crush.

This made him smirk. He placed his thumb under his chin and grazed his lips with a sweet slide of his index finger, feigning thought for a moment.

"Well, for starters they have beautiful eyes, as strong as the sea and as free as the seven winds. They have a talent for writing some of the most dazzling poetry! They also blush the same way you are right now, a jaw-dropping red more vibrant than the brightest apples in all of mondstat!" He bit his lip with a slight giggle as you felt your face be lit aglow.

You knew he liked to tease, and that was part of the reason that you developed feelings for him, but how did you not notice how direct it was before? Normally his teasing was simply a nickname, maybe a quick pickup line. But this? This was making your heart jump back and forth in your throat and chest.

"i- well you, i..." You felt the words get caught in your throat. what were you doing? You needed to pull yourself together before things got out of hand. Quickly trying to regain your composure, you'd sputtered a quick sentence, barely audible "Shh... my poetry isn't that good..."

"Well I beg to differ, I think it was stunning. I liked it with my whole heart." Venti was quick to retort. He was really trying to be the end of you tonight huh?

"Well I like you with my whole heart" You were convinced you'd thought. You were shocked to feel that your mouth was open as if you'd just said something. You slapped a hand over your mouth, eyes bugging out. Venti looked at you, blinking a few times before his expression changed.

"What was that songbird? Do you like me?" He teased, leaning forward to pull your hand from your mouth. It took little effort, as he then took his other hand and pulled your chin in his direction, leaning over just a little and glancing down at your lips. "I wanna hear you say it songbird."

Please, don't let this be a dream; you'd think. You weren't sure what you were expecting after accidentally blurting your heart out to your best friend, but this certainly was by far the best possible reaction. You took a quivering breath and uttered, "I...I like you."

Something in his eyes changed, he was still looking at your lips, going back and forth between your eyes and mouth. Now his eyes were glued to your lips, something darker overtaking them. Watching the words leave your tongue, watching the shapes you make when you talk, the melodies dripping out.

"Can I do something crazy?" Venti asked, hushed but confident. Something that sounded a little too perfect not to have been rehearsed. You nodded hesitantly before he leaned in slowly towards you.

You felt his breath tickle your neck softly, there was a pause as you leaned your head to the side giving him more access. you felt like you were on fire. His hand slid from your chin to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. He gave a soft chuckle before locking his lips around your neck.

You couldn't help the gentle mewl that left you when he began sucking on the tender skin. The hand tangled in your hair gently got tighter as his kisses grew hungrier and more passionate.

You felt the heat of the moment jump between your thighs as he climbed over the table quietly. His hunger for you didn't seem to quench as he kissed your neck, it only became stronger. He began biting different spots on your neck, kneading the flesh with his teeth and tongue. It was only when you heard a group of people from downstairs leave that you realized that you both were on display, all it took was someone looking up.

You pushed him off you slightly, making him look at you confused and a little hurt.

"Can we go somewhere private, I don't want everyone to see us up here." his look softened as your words settled with him, he nodded and stood up, grabbing your hand.

~~~~~~~~~~

The walk to your home wasn't far. You lived in the capital of mondstat in a small apartment near the inn. It was just more convenient for the sweet bard to keep an eye on you, and to get closer to you. You fumbled your keys, trying to open the door quickly and distractedly.

Venti wrapped his hands around your waist, placing his nose in the crook of your neck, softly breathing you in. His hands squeezed ever so slightly tighter as if to preview what you were in for.

"Absolutely divine..." was all he muttered before a gentle breeze blew past you, opening your door.

You paid the weird phenomenon no mind as you grabbed his hand, leading him inside.

"Please don't mind the mess, I wasn't expecting company." Your shy mumbling was cut off when venti pushed you against the wall, going back to kissing your neck. He grabbed your sides, pulling your flesh against him. You could feel how hard he had grown just from kissing alone.

The sensation of feeling his hands finally being on you, the taste of your skin. It was intoxicating to him. He let his hands travel from your hips to palm the outside of your sex. He could feel how needy you'd grown from his touching. You bucked your hips into his hand as if telling him what you were so desperate for.

"Have patience sweet y/n. You'll get what you're so needy for when it's time." He moved from kissing your neck down, down, and down until he was sitting in front of you on his knees. He looked up at you with slitted and dangerous eyes. something you'd never seen on him before.

He began peppering kisses along the outside of your clothing, barely sending little shocks straight to your core.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this, how long I've wanted to taste you." He pulled the hem of your pants, snapping the band closed. He let out a soft hum and looped his fingers, pulling your pants and undergarments down to his level.

The way his eyes glistened in desire was mesmerizing. He leaned forwards, nuzzling his nose onto the front of your folds, sending a chill down your spine. "Open your legs wide for me, songbird."

You did as told, lifting one leg over his shoulder, the other turned outwards to give him a better angle. He took this invite to slowly and passionately kitten lick everything his tongue would touch.

The room was filled with loud sounds of his mouth working wonders and your earthly moans. You gripped his hair as to take attention from your shaking, damn near faltering legs. you couldn't help the bucks you were making against his face. You loved the way he was moaning against your dripping sex, slurping every last drop you had to offer.

You felt the coil in your stomach growing tighter and tighter as you clenched your thighs around his head. His hands left his sex and under your thighs, pulling you closer and closer until you could only see his eyes peeking from under your flesh. Without warning, your riding became fevered, bucking widely you came all over his mouth.

Without missing a beat he ate every last drop, whining and whimpering at how absolutely amazing you tasted to him. When he was finished, he stood up on wobbly knees, still high from your orgasm, and kissed you sloppily.

You could taste your release on his tongue and the need in his passion. You bit his lip, trying to gain dominance, but you were only met with him sliding his tongue into your mouth, exploring every inch he could find refuge in. You wrapped your hands around his neck as he lifted you up.

With your hips around him, he took you to the couch and laid down on top of him. You kept your legs wrapped around his waist as he ground into you.

"Tell me what you want me to do to you," He commanded, propped up on his elbows above you, still grinding. his breath dancing over your face.

"Archons, please stop....teasing, I ne..need you to fuck me please-" You whimpered quietly feeling your need stronger than ever. You wanted to feel him stretching you, splitting you. His hands gripping your waist as he pounded into you.

He didn't say anything, he only leaned down and kissed you. His lips soft and methodic. He sent one of his hands down to your chest, gently squeezing, making you moan. He took the advantage to explore your mouth yet again. Taking your tongue and gently sucking on it.

You arched your back into his touch as he began taking his clothes off. Slowly, almost tauntingly he exposed more and more of himself.

Eventually, you both were left bare. His beautiful form in front of you. You blushed at what was to come. He spread your legs apart and leaned forward to kiss you again. You wrapped your hands around his neck and his hair as he lined his cock at your entrance.

He reached a hand out and cupped your cheek.

"You are mine. I need to hear you say that you're mine and only mine," He whispered to you. There was lust behind it, but also something more. Almost a desperation for you to reassure him that you weren't anyone else's. He needed to know that he was all you'd ever need.

"I'm yours. Only yours."

That was all he needed. A newfound primal drive pumping through his brain. His click, his trigger, and you just pulled it. He plunged into you. Starting very slowly, watching how he disappeared inside of you.

You arched your back and tightened your legs around his back, making him sink into you faster. He started thrusting his leaking cock into your soaked cunt, making you moan vibrantly.

"I've been dreaming....dreaming of you taking me like this. beg-begging for me not to stop. You wanna be full of my seed? Full of my fucking cum?" You nodded at his question without hesitation, without regard to the fact that there'd be no way out of this if he filled you. "Beg for it....beg for my cum."

But Why would you want to escape?

His hand dipped to your sex, swirling his fingers as he pumped into you. His balls tight and slapping against your ass, he gripped his hand around your flesh tight enough to leave bruises and shot hot strings of cum deep into you. Warmth spread into you as he drilled into you.

Little did you know neither would be getting up for a very long time, I mean, you were his, so it was only natural that he made your neighbors aware of that fact. He had to make sure you took to his seed, that you only remembered how to moan his name.

After all, you were his and only his. Forever and always.

[diejager]

Hello, may I please ask for 10 in you 1k event with nsfw yan Diluc please, aslo congrats!

1k special [2/10]

1k special masterlist

Cw: smut, creampie, implied sex marathon, DARK, yandere, blood, marking, possessive, sadism, BDSM, NON-CON, DUB-CON.

Wc: 662

HI! Thank you!! <33

# 10 " You're so cute,"

Bound and gagged, your cries fell on deaf ears when faced with Diluc, the workers never bothered you, they never entered the room unless you were dressed and with Diluc, they never tried freeing you, and they never stopped fearing for their safety under Diluc's iron-like hold on the region and Teyvat. A rich businessman with relations was the worse kind to garner their ire or obsession.

His hips moved at a steady pace, shallowly thrusting and taking his time to watch you squirm and take him whole; red, swollen folds rubbing around his thick length, leaking the combined juices of your orgasms. His narrowed eyes burned darkly with unbridled lust as they moved from your ankles locked around his hips to your soaked mound, over your navel, stomach, and chest covered in purple and red bites and kisses, and from your tear-stricken face and puffy eyes to your bound hands gripping the mahogany headboard. He was entranced by your appearance, a wreck and bumbling mess of tears and moans made by his hand. It made him harder, his cock twitching and promising another load. Pain and pleasure came as one, one couldn't exist without the other and it appealed to his sadistic side, it appealed to it too much.

His hands felt everything he could, all the skin that stayed unmarred by his teeth and fingers, he wanted to bite into the fatty part of your thighs, leave them red and bloodied until he lapped it up, he wanted to paint your hips black and blue with his hands, leave them pained and sore for the coming days.

Thoughts drowned by pleasure (and your cries), he jerked wildly, pace erratic with loud panting as he peppered your neck and collar with wet kisses. His pounding went from short and shallow to deep and rough, he loved hearing your muffled squealing and whiny cries. He found it simply adorable.

"You're so cute, " Diluc cooed, breathing heavily into your ears. "Calmer and more pliant when I fuck you, hmm?"

Your mind reeled in disgust, conscience praying for it to stop, telling your body to stop reacting so disgracefully. You wanted your body to stop betraying you, to stop turning into a puddle of sweat and cum in Diluc's hand he could tell you all about him much your body loved it, that you loved him and were simply in denial; but you knew, you knew that your body only reacted to stimuli, that you hadn't really wanted him, your body simply reacted to what it was given.

Your body jerked and jolted when the leaky of his raging erection slammed into your cervix, alternating between pounding into your cervix and your sweet spot. Your body reacted to his foreplay because he knew where to touch, what to rub and roll, he did things while having you bound.

"I'm going to come," he groaned, mind numb with delight at the image of you plump and bred with his child.

He licked your neck, drawing a line of saliva from your collar to your jaw, lips patting to swallow your drool and kiss the side of your mouth. He cursed, hips rocking erratically, dick twitching before he ground deeper into you and came. The warmth that filled you brought a sickly feeling, ropes of cum covering your walls and clinging to every part of your cunt. You almost shuddered as he rutted against you, pushing his release deeper. You would've puked if you weren't gagged, bound, or here at all.

The most damning thing about this was the words he mumbled after he came, the soft promise he told you in an innocent tone:

"I love you."

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