#i had a hard time keeping up with it as it aired

[frenchkisstheabyss]

♡Ｇｏｏｄ Ｆｏｒｍ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!yunho x chubby!fem!reader x best friend!mingi

♡ Genre: smut/a lil dash of fluff

♡ Summary: When you decide to have some late night fun with your boyfriend in the kitchen, the furthest thing from your mind is that your best friend might walk in and see you but when he does you're both more than happy to have him there.

♡ Word Count: 3k-ish

♡ Warnings: Yunho gives dom vibes. Mingi's a bit shy at first. Threesome (the boys don't touch each other though). They have a real thing for your chubby body. They're overall obsessed w/ you truly. Unprotected sex. Creampie. Oral sex (f & m receiving/heavy on the f receiving). Fingering. Multiple orgasms. Nipple play. Tit sucking. Hair pulling. Nibbling. Ass slapping. Overstimulation. Cum swallowing. Cum swapping. Squirting. A lil edging. Clit slapping. I use the word "pussy" cause I'm not a "cunt" gal. Lots of bodily fluids. Pet names (baby, angel)

♡ A/N: I've been writing a lot of really thoughtful, emotional pieces lately and this...is totally not one of them. It has it's moments but really it's 3k words of filth. I'm for sure gonna do a part 2 because I feel like I can do more with this but for now enjoy your hot girl moment, babes. You deserve it.

You'll never grow tired of this sound...

Yunho slurping down your juices, his soft lips pursed around your clit. Every decadent, unpredictable stroke of his tongue makes your thighs tremble. Three long, dexterous fingers pump in and out of your core drowning you in pleasure.

Yunho had sincerely wandered into the kitchen for a midnight snack when he stumbled upon you here. Bent over in the fridge with your deliciously plush ass peeking from the bottom of your red lace panties, you instantly became the only thing his taste buds craved.

You had your hand on an ice cold bottle of water when you felt two strong hands spreading your thighs apart. “Up a little late aren’t you?” he teased, stroking your slit through the barely there material. Your breath hitched, the cool air from the refrigerator the only thing to ease the heat consuming your body. “I couldn’t sleep and I—mmm—I just wanted—ah.”

Yunho tucked your panties to the side, sinking his middle finger into you. You were already so needy and wet, so easily turned on at the slightest bit of attention from him, that he could've never stopped there. “Just wanted what, baby?” he whispered, dropping to his knees, “Tell me what you want.” It tickled when you felt his lips brush against your skin, leading a trail of kisses around the curve of your ass and down your thighs.

“Yunie, I can’t—fuck, I can’t think” you moaned, holding onto one of the shelves to keep your legs from giving out. “Aww, baby” he smiled, slapping your ass hard enough to make it jiggle, “You don’t have to.”

Yunho knows where your sweet spot is. How to rotate his wrist and curl his finger at the perfect angle to make your body surrender to him. He had you wrapped around his finger—clenching—literally. You were dripping by the time he slipped your panties down to drink from you like the sweetest fountain. He made sure you came twice before he lifted you onto the counter and spread your aching legs open to taste you more.

Backed into a corner, one foot up on each side of the counter, you’re completely at his mercy and this is exactly where you want to be. Nibbling at your bottom lip, you stare down at him with those beautifully glossy eyes of yours.

Yunho tilts his head up to meet your gaze, fluffy dark brown hair framing his face, and it’s obvious he’s as blissed out as you are. He suckles at your clit as he pulls back just enough for you to see your sensitive bud twitching in response to him. Without warning he buries his face between your legs, humming with pleasure as he completely devours you.

You throw your head back, stars illuminating your vision. “Yunie, please don’t stop” you beg, fingers tangling in his hair as he wrecks you in the best way. Just when the pressure inside of you reaches its peak, your pussy ready to turn into a waterfall, you notice a figure standing in the doorway.

Mingi? Fuck. You’ve been so swept up in the moment, blinded by lust, that you completely forgot Mingi was staying over tonight.

It’s coming up on 4 years since you met Yunho and Mingi in a cramped club your friend’s band was playing at. The crowd that night was completely out of control. A swirling pit of drunks in desperate need of therapy. Just trying to get to the bathroom was a death wish. Yunho and Mingi didn’t have to step in to protect you but they did and they have ever since.

It never occurred to you to ask why they helped you. You saw it in the way they watched you at the restaurant after, like you were some shiny new toy they had acquired. Only Mingi treated you like a collector’s item, too delicate to take off of the shelf. He thought it better to admire you, imagine what it’d be like to play with you, but could never get the courage to do it.

Yunho, on the other hand, wasted no time taking you out of the box. Everything about you was too alluring for him to deny. His hunger for you then was as intense as it is now and he needed to indulge or he’d regret it for the rest of his life. Mingi hides it well, at least he thinks he does, but he regrets it. He wishes you knew how badly he wants you to be his in every sense of the word. Could you even fathom the things he’d do to trade places with his best friend right now?

Mingi knows that he should turn around—go back to the guest room, pretend nothing ever happened—but he’s too hypnotized by you to do it. “Hi, Mmm-Mingi” you giggle, noticing the thick bulge in his sweatpants. Mingi follows your gaze down to a cock hard enough to split you in two. You smile at him like you’d love to see him try it. You would. “Yunie,” you coo, tapping him on the back of the neck, “We have company.”

Yunho doesn’t register it at first, too intoxicated by your pussy to process anything that comes out of your mouth as coherent language. Mingi’s eyes widen and you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. He’s scared out of his mind and insanely horny, a combination of things he’s never felt before and has no clue what to do with. Yunho’s motions slow as he deprives you of his tongue. His fingers slide out of you, soaked in your arousal.

“Company?” he asks, rising to his feet, lips dripping wet.

You nod, pointing to Mingi, “I think we woke him up.”

Yunho lets out a low, playful chuckle, turning only halfway to greet his best friend. “Fuck,” Mingi mumbles, frantically scanning the kitchen for something else to look at. “I wasn’t looking! I swear! I came to grab my…” Spotting the spice rack beside him, he blindly grabs the first thing he sees. “Chili pepper flakes? Yeah, they’re so good for a late night snack, you know?”

Unconvinced but amused by his attempt, Yunho turns back to face you. He lures you into a kiss, sharing with you the delightfulness of your taste. He rests the back of his hand against your core, knuckles grazing your clit just enough to keep you on edge. “Can I share?” he asks between the feverish clashing of your tongues. “Mmmhmm” you gasp, your back arching at the return of his touch. Yunho shakes his head, hands riding your curves up to where your nipples poke through your shirt.

He takes your supple breast into his hand, massaging it as he rolls your nipple between his fingertips. “Baby, that won’t do. I need to hear you say it this time. Tell me what you want.” You tilt your head to the side, taking in the tall, handsome blonde watching you. “You can share me, Yunie” you whisper, breath tickling the side of his neck, “I want it.” He pinches your nipple, locking his other arm around your waist, “Aah, good girl. That wasn’t so hard was it? Now hold onto me.”

You do as you’re told and cling to him in time to be lifted from the smooth marble counter. Yunho kisses you once more as he spins you around. A dizzying transition that ends in you draped across the kitchen table. “Are you joining or are you just gonna watch?” Yunho asks Mingi, too distracted with the cute squishy belly poking from the bottom your shirt to actually face him.

Mingi can hear his heart thumping its way out of his chest. He has to be hearing things. “Oh, I—you can’t be—are you s…” he stutters, squeezing the life out of that poor bottle of chili pepper flakes. Yunho nibbles at your exposed belly before turning to confront the confusion on Mingi’s face, “Serious? Yes. I’m serious. I know you’ve always wanted her so…come get her.”

Mingi hesitates, still unsure if it’s a trick or not. The chance that Yunho will murder him if he actually tries seems higher than this not being a fever dream. Shifting to get more comfortable on the table, you hold your hand out to Mingi, your body calling to him like a siren beckons sailors to their doom. It’s enough to make him drop everything, to abandon all these years of pretending.

Mingi carefully makes his way over to you, taking your hand in his. You’re beautiful at any angle but there’s something about this one—you staring up at him from the filthiest position with the most innocent eyes—that really gets him.

It’s the perfect angle for you too, one your boyfriend knows you’ve fantasized about. These two broad shouldered angels looming over you, bathing you in their admiration. “Kiss me” you whisper, palming Mingi’s cock through his thick sweatpants. Mingi grunts at the euphoric release of tension as his lips latch onto yours, his kiss ravenous and sloppy. His platinum hair falls into your face, immersing you in the crisp floral scent of his shampoo.

Yunho watches as Mingi snatches your shirt up, taking his time to enjoy how your tits bounce when they pop free. Pushing your legs back, Yunho drags his fingers between your lips to pull back the hood of your clit. He flicks his thumb up and down, smiling as you arch and wiggle beneath him. Mingi sneaks a glimpse down at Yunho, breaking the kiss to hear your moans. For the first time he doesn’t have to listen through the walls, you’re making all those sinful noises right before his eyes and it’s glorious to behold.

“You’re so cute” Mingi says, cupping your fluffy cheeks. “You—ah—think so?” you ask, tucking a finger into the waist of his sweatpants. You slip your hand inside, taking as much of him into your hand as you can. Mingi pulls them down for you and you audibly gasp at the gorgeous cock that springs free. You glide up and down, circling the head with your thumb. Mingi cups one of your breasts, kneading the plush flesh as drags his tongue down to your nipple. “Mmhmm” he hums, stuffing his mouth full of you, “So fucking cute.” 

You lay there breathless—trying to talk your trembling body down from your next orgasm—when you feel the throbbing head of Yunho’s cock rub up and down your entrance. “You ready for me, baby?” he asks, raising your legs up to balance your ankles on his shoulders. When he does it presses him into you a little bit further and you cry out, raising your hips for more. “Mmm—ready for you Yunie.” Yunho snaps his hips, bottoming out in one thrust that sends electricity dancing through your body.

A soft tug brings Mingi in close enough that you can turn and lick the precum leaking from the tip of his cock. “Fuck, that feels so good” he moans, rising to push deeper into your throat. Your tongue curls on the underside of his cock, the textured roof of your mouth dragging along it as he fucks your throat.

This is what they’ve wanted since the night you met. What you’ve wanted too. It’s so satisfying, like scratching an itch you never could quite reach, to let them take you together. Their hands glide across your velvet smooth skin, exploring every inch of you. They’re so careful with you, matching paces to keep you comfortable. All you have to do is lay here and let them take care of you—let them worship you.

Yunho caresses your legs, fingers digging into your hips, “I feel you clenching, baby. You close?” You know he expects an answer even if you’re currently drooling around Mingi’s cock. You give him a muffled, “Yes.” But that’s not nearly enough for either of them. Mingi grabs you by the hair, pulling out to leave your mouth painfully empty. “Your voice is too pretty not to hear” he says, stroking your lips, “You ready to come for us, baby? Gonna let me see how good you look coming on your boyfriend’s cock?”

“Yes, Mingi. I’m gonna c—oh my—ah…” you whimper only for Mingi to shove himself back inside of you before you can finish speaking. Not that you’re complaining. The men exchange a brief glance, returning their attention to you with something new in mind. They move faster and harsher, struggling as much as you do to keep it together. They could both come right now from the way you pulsate your walls around Yunho or the way your throat muscles flutter around Mingi. But there’s no question that it has to be you first. 

Your eyelids grow heavy, the pressure bursting inside of you, and suddenly gravity doesn’t exist anymore. Mingi holds your hand and Yunho rubs your belly as you squirt down his length. Yunho licks his lips at the mess you've made of his pants, the wet spot growing the more you bounce down onto him. “That’s it, baby. Use my fucking cock, angel.” He lays his hand flat on your clit and slaps it just enough for you to feel the sharpness of the contact.

It makes you clench even tighter—the tightest he’s ever felt you—and he can’t take it anymore. He spills into you, filling you so far beyond your limit that your pussy’s gushing it back out at him before he’s even empty. Mingi plays with your nipples, pinching one and then the other, switching every time you get too used to the feeling.

Your mouth falls open, your overstimulated body beginning to go limp. You keep it open, tongue hanging out to welcome the thick ropes of come Mingi empties into your mouth. It collects in the back of your throat making your moans sound like tiny gurgles. What’s left leaks from the corners of your mouth and Mingi kisses you quickly, swapping the warm, salty liquid back and forth between the two of you until it’s nothing.

You stay entangled with them for an amount of time you can’t really grasp, coming down together. The room slips into silence. The only sound you hear is the symphony of heavy, uneven breaths. You look around at each other, the reality of what you’ve just done setting in. No one regrets it, you’d all be up for it again if one of you had it in you to ask, but it’s hard to know what to say.

You love each other more than anything. What you share is so special that you’ve all done everything to keep from fucking it up. To think that this might be what does. That the next thing to come out of your mouth could destroy it all. It’s terrifying.

Yunho clears his throat, stretching your legs for you so you don’t cramp up. “Can I get you anything? A snack?” You poke your bottom lip out, contemplating your snack options, “Uh, nah. I’m okay.” Noticing your throat sounds a little dry, Mingi grabs a bottle of water from the fridge—the very one you had your hand on earlier—and brings it to you. He twists the cap off and raises it to your lips, “You need to hydrate. I’m not asking.”

“Ooh, when’d you get so bossy?” you ask, taking a sip of water, “I like it.” Mingi takes a sip for himself before passing it to Yunho who chugs down the rest. “Shower?” Yunho says, swishing some water around in his cheeks. To you and Mingi it sounds like “swishwer”. Mingi squints his eyes at him, “Swishwer?” “I think he means ‘shower’” you whisper, trying to channel enough energy to sit yourself up. Yunho nods, swallowing the last few drops. “Yes! That! Shower. I’ll go run the water and you…” He points to Mingi and then to you, “Grab her and be careful. She’s expensive.”

Yunho walks off to the bathroom, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. You finally manage to sit up and swing around to face Mingi. He puts his arms around you, kissing the bridge of your nose, “Don’t worry about holding on but just…don’t scream.”

“Don’t scream? Wh—”

Mingi throws you over his shoulder and you do in fact scream. “What are you doing to my girlfriend?” Yunho shouts from the bathroom, flipping the shower on. Mingi carries you down the hall, your feet kicking as you giggle. “She’s fiiiine” he sighs, rolling his eyes, “It’s not like I’m gonna drop her.” Stepping into the bathroom Mingi pretends to trip for the fun of it.

“Put me down you psycho!” you whine, your life flashing before your eyes.

Mingi pouts, nuzzling his cheek up to your side, “I wasn’t really gonna drop you. So mean.” He lowers you down, letting you hold onto his arm while you gain your footing. You go to take your shirt off, it’s barely on, but the room still feels like it’s spinning.

“I got it, baby. Come here.” Yunho pulls you over to him and helps you out of your shirt. In return you help him out of his pants, tossing them off to the side. Yunho hops into the shower and you’re back at Mingi’s side, pushing his shirt up over his head. You never break eye contact once, committing every detail of each other’s naked bodies to memory.

You lead him into the shower and find yourself happily positioned between the two of them beneath the warm running water. Yunho cuddles you from the front and Mingi holds you from behind. The three of you fit together perfectly, like you were always meant to be like this.

Eventually you’ll have to say something. You’ll have to have an honest conversation about where things go from here. But for tonight you’ll stay in this moment together, letting your hearts revel in feelings your lips may never speak of again.

[blondieeu]

early bird. katsuki b.

katsuki knew you better than you knew yourself. he knew your preferences, style, personality, even memorized your social security number since you always forgot it. he’d lived with you for damn near 5 years now.

“katsuki”

so when you wake him up in the late hours of the night, all needy and pent up he shouldn’t be surprised, he doesn’t even bother getting angry at you because you always tended to get needy in the night.

you shook him softly, his back turned to you as you tried to wake him. his body rising and falling with quiet snores that became irregular when you shook him.

“katsuki?”

“mm”

“katsuki!”

“what’s wrong”

he didn’t even bother opening his eyes, still laying there like a rock as he waiting for a response from you.

“can we fuck? please katsuki”

the male sighed and lazily grabbed his phone from the nightstand, squinting hard just to see the time. 2:06AM.

“you can’t sleep?”

the silence in the air already told him the answer, katsuki didn’t bother to keep questioning you as he began to shuffle out of his boxers.

“take your panties off.”

he muttered, helping you on your back and pulling the green underwear off your ankles, not without noticing the wet part on the middle of them and giving you a ‘you needed me that bad?’ look. he put your hand around his cock gesturing for you too put it in since he was too tired to find the hole.

bakugou moaned as he settled himself into your sopping cunny, strong hands almost making dents in the headboard as he rocked his hips into yours and watching your slick create thin strings between you and him.

your legs were loose around his waist, toes curling everytime he let himself go deep with your hands touching at his chest and stomach.

“shit.. pussy make me wan’ give you a fuckin’ baby.”

he grunted the words out with a small shake in his voice, like he was trying to hold back a couple moans. he tiredly let his head fall in between his strong, well built arms that held the headboard as he looked down at your face, eyes teary and mouth half opened while you clenched around his cock.

katsuki sat up from his position with hard-to-silence heaves to pull the black wife beater he had on over his head and throw it somewhere across the room as his body temperature started to rise.

he secured his position by grabbing onto your sides so he could fuck you harder. needy moans filled the warm room along with the quiet sound of skin connecting. you could’ve sworn that you went mute every couple of minutes from the surges of pleasure he was feeding into your cunny. wait could you hear how wet you were?

your long time boyfriend gave a lazy smile as he leaned down to make out with you as an attempt to get you quiet so you could her your cunny talk to him as well. quiet squelching could be heard if you really did listen in detail.

“hear her singin’ ? s’ all you—…shit girl..gets this bad at night?”

your pretty eyes were rolling as you tried your best to nod, barely even hearing him while you were concentrated on not cumming too fast and trying not to squirt since you knew you forgot towels. still, loud pornographic moans bounced off of your bedroom walls.

“y..es..kat-suki..”

“alright. ima take care of it baby”

a/n: i refuse to write a whole smutshot!!!!!

aizawa ver

blondieeu xx

[mystellenia]

ellie with a clumsy gf ୨ৎ

summary: how ellie cares for her clumsy girlfriend

content: nothing thats nsfw!! just ellie being a cutie concerned gf

notes: answer to this req!! SHES SO PUPU BABYGIRL IN THAT PIC I WANNA BITE HER JFWIBFJWKRJR. she's actually so beautiful i can't. entirely unrelated: idk how i feel about this... but i’m trying not to be like EW I HATE THIS FUCK THIS ITS SO BAD. like i dont even feel like that but we already know how i feel about this formatting. its growing on me tho

(wc 0.39k) so short i know guys i gotta dip my feet

constantly laughing but also concerned at how you manage to trip and bump and bruise yourself up on literal air

in apocalypse au, she's always been very aware of her surroundings bc of patrol and combat and stuff so she tries to keep you out of the way of things that she knows you'll bump into

always has an ice pack chilled and ready to go in the freezer in case you bump yourself real hard and it's sore because ice helps bumps not bruise right when you get them (looking at you guys clumsy ladies write that one down)

always warns you about things right as they're happening since you get into things SO FAST

like just as you're bumping into something or dropping an item she's blurting out, "wait! there's- a shirt on the floor"/"remember- that the washing machine door is open"/"baby, you're gonna drop that- just... like you did just now. you okay?"

always asks what you did to get a new bruise. she'll notice a new one and joke, "oh, what did you do this time?" and you'll respond, "i may have walked into the dishwasher while the door was down... but this one doesn't hurt that bad 😁" it's become like a little game

she's become sooo desensitized to any bump or bang sound in the house bc she knows its just you. not to say she doesn't care about you getting hurt--she immediately throws out a "you good?!" or "you need me?"--she just knows you know what to do: ice pack or heat compress. it's routine now.

read that low vitamin c levels make you bruise easily, so always has vitamin c rich snacks stocked up. oranges and strawberries and other fruits, always ready!

she's so stupid in love that she'll cut the fruits up into hearts or try nd make the most simple little animals with them from some mother of 3's tutorial on instagram reels and genuinely gets upset when she can't recreate them.

^ like you notice her absolutely maiming some apples and ask, "ummm why are you slicing and dicing that poor apple?" and she'll mumble, "it's supposed to be a stupid crab."

and for my ladies with darker skin where bruises aren't as visible or even just pale skin that just doesn't bruise easily, she's still just as concerned. and since there is no visible warning of a sore spot, she's hurriedly apologizing after pressing on a sore spot or laying on a tender patch.

@abbysbug @picklesarenice69

hello to my clitter critters. soooooooo erm sorry about going like basically inactive for like 2 weeks i got into the fight of a lifetime with my mother 😊 we still beefing 😊 dw tho when she's old and wrinkly i’ll have power of attorney and trust the cord WILL be plugged.

like i’m joking but as of now that bitch is an opp fr

but anywhoooo i’m back. and my dinosaur of a laptop had a health scare and i thought i was gonna have to plan a funeral for her but she went to the doctor (apple store) and she's all better. idk how it still works so well now bc my mom got this when obama was still president 😆 don't y'all worry tho this motherboard does nothing but purr we chillin (the fan turns on whenever there are too many graphics moving)

[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.

[vivwritesfics]

Hungry Like The Wolf

Chapter Five

She hadn't seen her best friend, Lando, in years. She didn't run into him the last time she was visiting her father and she doubted she'd see him this time. Things were different now. She wasn't aware of his furry little problem. Just like she wasn't aware of the vampires plaguing the town.

1.7K

Vampire!Oscar x Reader x Werewolf!Lando

Series Masterlist

If Oscar played chess, he would have been good at it. Every move he made was calculated, always two steps ahead of everybody else. 

She probably didn't realise their dinner date was on the full moon. How could she know it had any significance when she didn't even know what was happening in this town? 

The air was electric as he drove through the wolf side of town. He was really pushing his luck, driving through on a full moon. He was scheming and calculating, sure, but he was still a gentleman. He'd never had driven through on a full moon if he didn't have to pick her up. 

He could feel it, could see the way someone stared at him. Probably a piercing, yellow stare. If he didn't knock on her door, he was sure whoever it was would have been pouncing on him, pulling him into the woods for some stern 'words'. 

But then she answered the door, looking so pretty in her sweater and skirt combination. "Hey," she said as she turned around and pulled the door shut. 

"Ready to go?" Asked Oscar as he offered her his arm. 

She took it with a smile that was too kind for this town and walked with him over to the car. He pulled the car door open for her, looking around for a flash of yellow as she climbed in. 

In the garden of the house opposite her own, Oscar saw it. Yellow eyes. He smirked, knowing full well the wolf could see it all, and climbed into the car. 

As he drove, he let her talk. It wasn't anything important, what some would describe as mindless dribble, but Oscar still listened. Like I said, he was a gentleman. 

As soon as he was out of the wolf side of town, he relaxed. His shoulders dropped and he released a breath, his grip on the steering wheel easing. He could hear a howl behind him, and it only made him smirk. 

The restaurant Oscar had picked was run by Vampires. At first, things had been hard for Vampires in this town. Integrating into this society had seemed impossible. But, over time, they'd found a way. They'd gotten jobs, opened restaurants that catered to both human and Vampire, even if the humans didn't know it. 

Oscar was a gentleman. He opened the door to the restaurant for her and pulled out her seat. 

What can I really say about the dinner? Oscar was so lovely throughout the entire thing. He was funny in a way she hadn't expected (not that she hadn't expected him to be funny). 

(Oscar couldn't eat human food. The food they placed in front of him wasn't real food, was designed to melt in his mouth. No, his real meal was in the glass in front of him, disguised as wine.)

When the date was over, he drove her back to her house. Of course, Oscar paid for the meal. He gave the waiter a tip (after a hundred years alive, he knew how to impress a woman) and took her hand as he led her back to his car. 

But there was already someone at his car. Oscar ran his tongue over his teeth as they approached, keeping his hand on the small of her back.

"Logan."

Logan was Oscar's best friend and the first person to find out his date. If he was waiting at Oscar's car, then it was because of some kind of emergency.

The smile Logan wore was shy yet charming as he offered her his hand. "Hi," he said, his pointed teeth poking into his bottom lip. The Vampires had no reason to panic, though. Such a small view of his teeth were offered that nothing looked out of the ordinary to a Human that didn't suspect anything. "I'm Logan."

She gave him her name as she shook his hand.

"I'm really sorry about this, but I need to borrow Oscar," he said, his smile still polite.

She looked to Oscar and nodded her head. "That's more than fine," she said and stepped towards the car.

Immediately, Oscar pulled the keys from his pocket and unlocked the car. He pulled open the passenger side door for her and took her hand as he helped her into the car. "I'll back back in a minute," he said and shut the door, shutting her in the car.

He looked towards Logan and gestured for him to follow. Logan did just that. He followed Oscar away from the car, into a part of the car park with little light. But the two Vampires could still see clearly. They knew she was watching them, but let her watch. As long as she couldn't hear them.

"You've been pissing off the wolves," Logan said with the shake of his head, clearly amused.

Oscar shrugged his shoulders, but he couldn't hide the way the corner of his lips turned up. "Really?" He said through a dramatic gasp. "You don't say."

The scoff that left Logan's lips wasn't supposed to piss Oscar off. And it didn't, Oscar knew him too well for that. "Daniel came by after you picked her up for your date. He said that Lando is mad, and he's gonna be waiting for you in the woods around the back of her house," he said, nodding back towards the car.

Oscar couldn't help but laugh. "Really?" He asked, shoving his hands into his pockets. "He's seriously going to wait for me?" When Logan nodded, Oscar let out a quiet 'pathetic'.

"Do you want me to follow behind?" Logan offered, but Oscar shook his head.

"I got it."

He said his goodbyes to Logan and headed back to his car. She was giving him a smile, one that was encouraging and reassuring. Even if she didn't know what was going on.

"Sorry about that," Oscar said as he climbed into the car. He checked the time on his watch. "Is your dad gonna kill me for getting you home late?" He asked as he pulled out of the car park.

A melodic laugh left her lips. "You realise I'm an adult, right, Osc? I think I'm older than you."

Compared to him, she was just a baby. But he wasn't going to tell her that. He was going to let her believe that he wasn't a hundred years old.

He pulled up outside of her house. Oscar opened the door for her and took her hand to help her out of the car. He kept a hold of her hand as he walked her up to the front door. "I had a really nice time tonight, Oscar," she said as she looked up at him, making no move to open the door.

"We'll have to do this again sometime," he said. If his smile showed off his teeth, he didn't much care. But then there was a howl from the woods, and Oscar knew he had to leave. He let out a sigh and looked at their shoes. "I need to go," he said and squeezed her hand.

He stepped away from her, walked back towards his car. "Wait!" He heard her call, stopping him in his track.

There was mere seconds between Oscar turning around and her crashing into him, her lips against his own. Oscar's hands were immediately on her waist, holding her steady as he pressed his lips to her own. But, when she tried to part his lips, Oscar pulled away. Another night.

His forehead was against her own. "I'll be back, I promise."

"Tonight?" She asked, breathlessly.

Oscar drew in a sigh. He immediately knew what she was asking. And, as much as he wanted to, he couldn't. "Not tonight," he answered and immediately saw her face drop.

Oscar kissed her again, this time quickly. "I want to," he assured her, and she set out a breath against him. "I just... I'm scared of your dad."

She laughed against him and released him. "Next time," she said, and Oscar left a promise with a kiss.

He watched as she walked back to the house and let herself in. Even then, Oscar stayed. He climbed into his car and waited until he could see her walk into her bedroom before he drove off.

He didn't drive very far, just parked his car out of the view of her house and made his way back to the woods.

Lando was easy to find. All Oscar had to was follow the sounds of snarling. Of course Oscar was snarling. His emotions was amped up with the full moon overhead.

"Oscar!" Lando barked.

There he stood, curls falling in front of his forehead as he stared at Oscar, chest heaving. His fists were clenched at his sides, veins visible up his arms. Oscar had never seen him look so goddamn angry before. It was... hot.

"What're you doing with her?"

"Maybe I like her," Oscar answered as he leaned against a tree. He watched as Lando stalked towards him, only slightly looking down at him. "Is that really the end of the world?"

Lando's fists shook. "Are you gonna turn her?"

Oscar laughed, heading hitting the tree behind as he threw it back. "We've been on one date, Norris. Don't overreact."

"Damn it, Oscar!" Lando suddenly called, his hitting the tree beside Oscar's head.

Maybe it was the way Lando said it, Oscar couldn't really tell what compelled his next steps. But, suddenly his hands were around Lando's neck as he kissed him.

There was a good minute where Lando was still, eyes wide as he felt Oscar's lips against his own. Part of him couldn't quite believe it was happening, but he didn't go to move away. He'd never admit to enjoying it, but the fact that he didn't move away told Oscar all he needed to know.

When Oscar pulled away, there was only one thing on Lando's mind. His lips. They tasted like her. His brows were furrowed, eyes furious as he kissed him again, pressing his body against the tree.

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[my1oves]

Hear me out but… request for an experienced fem reader being Laios’ first time? I just think virgin Laios is so adorable because he’s such a monster nerd, endearingly dumb but also so strong and reliant— a true leader. He’s not ignorant towards sex of course, he explores that area in monsters, but he’s never had the chance to explore it himself. I wanna imagine he’s never touched himself before so reader teaches him how to actually have sex (and not just going off by the book yk). Reader teaches him how to pleasure her as well and I just know Laios would be such an eager (and quick) learner, messy and all AAAA I wanna see it qwq

p.s. it’d be funny if reader taught him how to kiss properly too bc I feel like he’s the type to just go in, mouth ajar and his eyes are barely closed 😭

teaching laios

꒰ includes ꒱ ⸻ laios touden.

꒰ warnings ꒱ ⸻ afab! reader, virgin laios, unprotected sex, penetration.

꒰ mimi's note ꒱ ⸻ when laios gets nervous he spits out random monster mating facts, but it's really so cute it's hard to be upset about it. sex with laios is both pleasuring and educational!

It all started when he confessed he'd never been intimate with somebody before. "Wait- seriously?!" Chilchuck gawked, "Ya never had se-" A hand clamped over the half-foots mouth, Laios looking a little embarrassed now.

"Don't say it," Laios frowns, "I just... was never given the opportunity." He murmurs dejectedly, "I've never even kissed anyone before." Your own eyes widened at this statement. He's never even kissed someone before? Your heart skips a beat when he shyly casts a glance your way. Namari bursts out in a laugh.

"Next you're gonna say you've never masturbated before!"

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air after that, before Chilchuck and Namari awkwardly apologize. "I've read monster mating rituals though!" Laios tries to improve the situation, but it only makes Chilchuck and Namari feel worse for him. After that, the topic swiftly changed to work-related matters instead, everyone happy with the change in topic. Despite the change in topic, it didn't leave your thoughts. You highly doubted the opportunity never presented itself, but rather Laios didn't pick up on the clues.

As the night continued on, everyone slowly dispersed until it was just you and Laios at the table. "You know," You begin, wondering how to approach the topic, "If you wanted I could teach you." Laios looked over at you with furrowed brows.

"Teach me what?" You give him a pointed look, and when he still didn't understand you leaned over and whispered in his ear.

"How to kiss... How to have sex."

The red blush that took over his face almost made you apologize, ready to take back the offer when he spoke up. "Would you really?" It was hard not to pounce on him right then and there, but you did well keeping your cool as you nod.

"Of course." You say, taking a swig of your drink. "Come over tomorrow and I'll start with the basics." You hoped the dim lights in the bar helped hide your own flusteredness.

And that's how you ended up where you are now, straddled on Laios' lap, teaching him how to kiss properly for the last hour. He certainly has improved in such a short time. When you first arrived, he just puckered his lips and hoped for the best, and then he thought perhaps just leaving his mouth open was the best course of action, before you had to stop him and show him how to properly kiss.

"And you don't have to be scared to touch me, you know?" You inform him after a while, pulling away from his lips (much to Laios' displeasure, he's learned he quite likes kissing), to gently guide his hands to your hips. "Just like that," You say, "Or you could move them high," You move his hands to your waist, "or even lower, if you want," You place his hands on your thighs. You lean in close, "Or you can always do this," Guiding his hands to cup you breasts through your shirt, his breath hitches at the intimate position. You leave him to explore your body, his hands wandering from place to place, but always coming back to your chest.

It was endearing, watching him with such excitement. "This reminds me, griffins do the same thing- they feel up their mates before, y'know, mating."

"Oh? I didn't know that," Laios nods eagerly, his eyes never leaving the way his hands fondle your breasts. You bite back a chuckle as you say, "Want me to take my shirt off?"

Laios nearly chokes on air, sputtering out a response that sounded like a yes. When he catches his breath, he affirms his decision and you take your shirt off, tossing it to the side.

If you thought he wasn't mesmerized before, he certainly is now. His hands shake with excitement as he touches your breasts, this time without a barrier. "They're so soft," He mumbles. He glances up at you as you let out a moan, his thumb giving an experiment flick to the perky nipple. He breath catches in his throat as you let out another moan, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

"N- Not bad," You say, biting back another moan as Laios relentlessly plays with your chest. "Don't forget to be gentle though, or it'll hurt," Laios nods, understanding and slowing his actions.

Your own hands begin to explore him more, reaching for his belt and undoing the buckle. You lean in to kiss him as he continues to fondle your chest, your hands undoing the button of his pants. "Laios," You murmur against his lips, he hums in response. "Do you want to do... more?"

How could he possibly say no when everything felt this good? He nods, moaning a 'yes' against your lips.

You roll your hips against him, grinding down. His hands squeeze your hips, groaning into the kiss. "Feels good, real good."

"Yeah? 'm glad." You pull off his shirt, your hands running against his chest. Firm muscle under your fingertips. His cheeks grow more red, kisses growing more frenzied. "Mm, L- Laios," You pull back, admiring his flushed face and blissed glazed eyes. "Let's take these off, yeah?" He glances down at his pants, helping you pull them off of him.

Laios grows bashful at being so exposed to you, he's never been seen by someone in a situation like this. His cock twitches with just as much vigor as Laios, and when you touch it you almost think he was going to cum right then and there. A violent shudder as he falls into you, letting out a loud gasped-like moan.

"You're so pent-up," You tease once he's okay, and he looks up at you with a little pout on his face- one that screams to not tease him. "Sorry, sorry, it's cute though." You assure him, slowly running a finger up the underside of his cock and watching him ball up the bedsheets underneath him. He bites into his lip harshly.

"Look Laios," You urge, nudging him to look down and watch as you play with his cock. He sighs in bliss, looking up at your eyes.

"I want, hn, to make you feel good too- ngh!" His head falls back as you pump his cock, giving a little twist that makes his stomach do flips.

"In due time," You promise, "Let's focus on you right now." Although he wants to protest, he can't find a good enough reason to. Instead he lets your hand work him up even more as he desperately searches for your lips again.

It's not long until your panties begin to grow uncomfortably sticky, and you take Laios' hands, guiding him how to jerk himself off before you shimmy off your pants and panties, exposing yourself to the cold air and him. His hand speeds up at the sight.

"Slow down," You remind him and although he wants to speed up, he listens and slows down.

"Can I touch you now?" He asks, and you nod. His hands, hesitantly, reach for your pussy and he swallows thickly at how wet you are. Was this because of him? "B- Basilisks self lubricate like this too." He nervously spits out a monster fact.

"Is that so?" Laios runs his fingers awkwardly through your slick a few more times before you decide to help him.

"Listen Laios, if you're going to please someone like me, this is really important, okay?" He nods, listening intently. You help him find your clit, showing him how to rub tight little circles into the sensitive bud. "This here- oh fuck," You curse, trying to focus but Laios is now rubbing circles against your clit and it's mind-numbing how good he is at it for a virgin.

"You feel good?" He asks, and you nod, hand wrapping around his bicep as you let out sounds of pleasure that fill Laios with hunger for more.

"So good, a-are you sure you've never done this before?"

"Mmhm," He nods, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your left breast, "You're the only one."

Ah shit, that went straight to your core. You groan, and despite the nice sensation you need to keep your mind on teaching him properly. You show him how to finger you open, and when he feels bold enough he slips in another finger. "Just like that," Your back arches, your chest pressing against his. "D- Damn it, if you keep this up you'll be a pro in no time."

Your praise makes him feel fuzzy, and he desperately wants more. He picks up his pace, grunting as he neglects his cock to explore your body with all he's got. His hand snaking around your neck and pulling you in to a sloppy kiss. Your knees buckle and you cum around his fingers, panting heavily against his lips.

"Laios," You pull away with a little whimper, "You ready?" You ask, looking down at his dick. He blinks several times before registering your words.

"I'm ready," He breathes, and you nod, showing him how to line up his cock with your hole. You help him, slowly sinking down on to him. The stretch burns, and you take it slow for both of your sakes.

"You doing okay?" You check in on him after you've managed to take all of him. He is breathing deeply, a bruising grip on your hips.

"Mm, I'm okay- are you?" You press a sweet kiss to his lips.

"I'm okay," You let out a shaky exhale. "I'm gonna start moving."

With that you do move. Laios watches in awe for a few seconds, before his hands fall between your thighs. "Is this okay?" It was more than okay. He finds your clit, playing with it as you try to ride him, although your legs are getting shaky and you're not sure how much longer you can keep this up.

"Hmm- let me help you," Laios says as he notices your thighs shaking. You try to say something, but Laios' hands find your hips and he lifts you up before slamming you back down. Your eyes nearly roll into the back of your head.

Your walls squelch and clench around him, and his breathing grows more ragged. Laios finds this position no longer helpful, and he, with your permission, lifts you up so he can lay you down on the bed before continuing.

"I feel a little funny," Laios slurs, his thrusts growing more and more sloppy with each one, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in close as you moan. Your warm, gummy walls suck him in deeper and deeper and he isn't sure he can last much longer. "I think I'm gonna..."

"Go ahead," You whine, "M- Me too."

Like a feral animal, Laios sets a surprisingly fast pace, fucking into you as if this wasn't his first time. Finally that hot feeling Laios felt spreads throughout his body and with a loud cry of pleasure he cums. He keeps going until you've cum a second time, before he slumps against you, not pulling out.

"Ha, I- I didn't realize it'd feel so... nice." He whispers, and you groan, lightly hitting his shoulder.

"Get off of me, you're heavy," He murmurs an apology, pulling out and rolling off of you. "Well, I'm glad you felt good."

"Can we... do this again?" You blink in surprise at his words, before giggling, nodding.

"Of course, I've still got a lot to teach you, after all." He sits up, looking down at you fondly.

"I'm looking forward to it. Thank you!" He smiles, and you hope he doesn't hear how your heart skips a beat. He really is too cute for his own good sometimes.

꒰ ❀ ꒱ thank you for reading. have a wonderful day, darling!

[intoanotherworld23]

Turn On The Red Lights

Summary: you get to own Joel for the night, but he owns you in the bedroom

Warnings: MDNI 18+, explicit sexual content, bondage, use of handcuffs, use of dildo, mention of safe word, edging, maybe overstimulation, unprotected sex, dom Joel, kinky Joel, name calling, implied escort situation

A/N: let me know if you guys want to be added to the Pedro tag list it’s always open! Heart, reblogs and comment are always appreciated and encouraged to support writers! Thank you all so much! XOXO

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Silk satin sheets lay beneath your body the red lights above you illuminating your naked body. The cold metal that held your wrists to the bed was digging into your skin every time you pulled. Joel standing in front of the bed smirking down at you like a crazed animal who was staring at his meal.

“You look good enough to eat baby.” Complimenting you with such pride to know that you were all his for the night. The atmosphere in the room was clouded with lust. Tensions high and thick you wanted to bite into it.

“All you can eat.” Snickering at your cheeky comment spreading your legs his eyes immediately focusing at your dripping cunt like a pot of honey that was overflowing at the lid.

“I’d watch what you say cause I am a starving man.” Tone of his voice clenching your thighs together. Cold air breeze rushing against your nipples Joel watching as they erect into hard nubs.

Watching as Joel walked over to the dresser and pulling something out trying to keep it from your view. Ribcage rising and falling with each breath as it felt like every step he was taking was in slow motion. It was almost like he was doing it on purpose. Enjoying your twitching and rattling around on the bed like you were trying to escape out of these handcuffs.

“How badly do you want me?” It seemed weird that a man as good looking as him needed to hear you say that. Then again he probably just wanted to hear how pathetically you could beg for him.

“I want you so fucking badly it hurts.” Thrusting your hips upwards coaxing him to look directly between your legs hoping he would sense how agonizing this was for you, and you needed him more than he could ever know.

“Do you know the safe word?” He asked as he flashed the thick dildo in front of you. Eyes slightly widening not sure if that was really going to fit inside of you, imagining just how much it was going to stretch you out.

“Yes, sir.” He couldn’t help but grin at the name signaling to him that you acknowledged he was the one in charge, and he had you right where he wanted you. Reaching forward to press the dildo against your inner thigh making you gasp. It looked almost realistic, and you really wished it was his cock pressing against your skin instead of this toy. “Red.”

“That’s my good whore.” The crude name should have offended you but right now it just made your cunt drip with desire.

Moving the toy upwards to finally reached to your sensitive cunt a loud whimper leaving your lips as he motioned it up and down your lips. Soaking the object in your juices so it would be easier to push inside of you. Although you were wet enough it didn’t need to be lubricated. Gliding it in so easily that it could have slipped out if he wasn’t holding onto it.

Unable to speak all you could do is keep your mouth open as it slowly stretched you out. Joel keeping it still inside of you as his free hand kept a tight grip on your ankle. His half naked body sitting between your legs to keep them open for his pleasure.

“Tell me how it feels baby.” Clenching your hands into fists as he pulled the toy out all the way only to thrust it back in. Closing your eyes as you allowed your body to fully give in to what you were feeling, and didn’t want to hold anything back. “I wanna hear those pretty lips tell me how good this dildo feels inside of you.”

Thrusting the toy inside of you so quickly you could hear the sound of your squelching cunt. Heat rising to your cheeks as it echoed in your ear. Only making him drill it deeper inside of you to create more sounds especially from your mouth. Pulling even harder against the restraints it was starting to burn your skin.

“It feels so fucking good, sir.” Patting yourself on the back for taking those shots before you decided to do this otherwise you would be acting like some sort of shy school girl. Joel could sense there was a dirty vixen hiding inside of you, and he couldn’t wait to bring it out of you.

Joel thought doing this kind of thing with a woman got boring after a while. For some reason your reaction had him rethinking this again, and was enjoying this much more than you. The way your bottom lip trembled as he hit a certain spot. Arousal coating the toy every time he pulled it out leaving a clear milky substance stringed across it.

“Look at me.” His tone stern but playful as a hand reached up to grip your jaw. Grabbing your attention as he drew you in. His eyes were so dark you would have thought he was some sort of demon. Keeping your mouth open wide enough for him to stick a finger in your mouth. Feeling bold as you wrapped your tongue around the digit closing your mouth sucking his finger like a lollipop.

“Those pretty eyes begging to be fucked by my cock instead.” He was literally reading your mind very accurately. Sensing the dildo wasn’t enough for you, and you wanted more. “Wanna feel that cunt be stretched out around me.”

Clearly becoming entranced at the choke hold you had on him since the movements of the dildo were starting to slow down. Like he was losing control, and becoming distracted by your sudden bold move. He was totally impressed, but he had to remind you he was in charge.

“Fuck me sweetheart you’re really testing me now.” Pulling his finger away from your mouth a trail of saliva being left down your chin.

Pulling the dildo out of you a hiss escaping past your lips at the sudden and empty loss. Not taking long before Joel was stripped of all his clothes so you could fully take in his naked form. Eyes falling to his cock seeing the veins popping out, the tip leaking cum like he was going to burst any minute.

Crawling towards you on the bed like a predator ready for pounce on his prey. Staring intensely at him waiting for his next move as he pumped his cock. Hands on either side of your face as he teased you by rubbing the tip up and down your folds like he did with the toy.

“Are you ready for me baby girl?” Knowing the answer to that but he always had to make sure it was something the woman wanted.

“Yes, sir I’m ready for you.” That’s all he needed to hear before dragging his hips down before pushing himself all the way in. Hips pressed into your pelvis as he stayed there for a second before drilling himself into your puffy cunt.

“Jesus you’ve got a tight little cunt.” Deep groans coming from his chest as he rolled his hips deep and slow, but with such a delicious impact.

Wrapping your legs around his waist holding onto him for dear life since you weren’t able to grab him with your hands. The slightly new angle had him pushing in deeper you felt him in your guts. Bodies moving up and down the bed as the headboard slammed into the wall so hard it might create a hole.

“That’s it sweetheart take my cock like a good little whore.” Praising you as he looked down to where you both were connected amazed at how well you were able to take him. Worried he might snap you in half or break your body just within the first few seconds.

“Your cock feels so good inside me.” A drop of sweat rolling down his face as his face turned beat red trying to control himself. Not wanting to cum so quickly then ruining this whole experience for you.

Leaning forward slightly just so his mouth was hovering right above yours. If there was one rule that Joel had it was never to kiss. Kiss was such an intimate act he felt it would create feelings, and with feelings came complications. With you though he found himself struggling not to press his lips against your soft and plump looking ones.

“Can feel your cunt squeezing my cock baby.” Words mocking and teasing you had you wrapped around his fingers. Enjoying the way he talked you as he continued to fuck you silly. Whispering absolute utter filth into your ear that it would even make the devil blush. He certainly had no problem saying it though.

Joel oozed confidence in every thing that he did whether it was just in general or sexually. The man knew the right things to say, and when to say them. He was good at what he did, and he certainly was worth going bankrupt over. The man was a professional in the sex department.

“Joel I’m so close.” Warning him as your body started to shake a fire ignited in your stomach. Head tossed back in ecstasy as you struggled to hold on anymore. Both of you were chasing that sweet release, and Joel was more focused on you.

“Let go baby, cum for me I’m right here.” Whispering beside your ear the low voice sending you over the edge. Chest rising and falling with each quick breath hands falling limp against the cuffs, and legs loosely hanging around his hips.

Joel feeling your cunt clenching around him so tightly like a viper. Cum leaking out the sides and dripping down your cheeks. Your cunt was so sore and felt absolutely raw from the pounding that it just took. Cock staying still inside of you still hard a quick twitch afraid to move worried he would squirt his seed.

“Fuck that was by far the tightest cunt I have ever fucked.” Brushing a hand across his face and up his hair. Pulling out when he knew it was safe a hiss leaving your lips as he carefully pulled out your body jolting at the sensitivity from the sudden loss of him. “I seriously almost came like three times.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Something seemed to stir inside of him at your question as he leaned back so he could hop off the bed and grabbed the keys off the nightstand unlocking the handcuffs. Feeling your arms drop a slight sting on your skin as you sat up and rubbed the raw flesh with fresh marks.

Getting the feeling that now that you got what you wanted you were going to be on your way. His body was stiff and his whole demeanor become cold and rigid. Maybe you were just hoping for some small talk or something after instead of just kicking you out the door.

“Well I hope that was to your satisfaction.” His voice now professional and businesslike which made your stomach churn. Feeling like you said something wrong, and it was making you feel sick at the thought.

“Yes it was more than satisfying Joel.” Nodding your head rapidly a smirk appearing on his face at how softly you said his name making you smile at the change in his body language.

“Good I look forward to seeing you again.” Tossing a card with his cell number and full name before exiting the room giving you a mischievous wink.

[cevheris]

Abby Anderson.

Fucking you on her motorcycle ☺️

tags: no need to sugarcoat anything she eats you out on her motorbike, semi public sex, she's kinda rough with it, dom/sub undertones.

You were riding on Abby's motorbike, been so needy lately but she was a busy woman, so you weren't able to play around as you'd like. You had missed her touch, the way her muscles would flex when she had her strong hold on your flesh. But now you were alone, well on the road, no less. Your tits behind the flimsy material of the shirt you were wearing pressed against her back as you hold onto her.

Arms wrapped around her lower belly, playing dangerous but it was worth it, traffic safety be damned you were fucking dripping for this woman, head too fuzzy for consequences.

She was taking you to a friends house or whatever, you weren't listening when she told you that, instead you were busy grinding yourself on the seat of the bike like a pathetic little slut, but you pay no mind to such labels anymore. I mean if the shoe fits.

But you weren't completely stupid, obviously, so you wait like a good girl for a red light to strike, your hand drawing closer to her parted thighs once she stops the ride you are onto her.

"Abby-" delicate fingers playing with the material of her pants, near her inner thighs earning a surprised gasp from her. And as if taking that as your cue you press against her further and cup her clothed pussy.

She involuntarily drops her head back, with a heavy whine she spells out "What are you doing-?"

"You know exactly what," you apply pressure with two fingers on where you know her clit to be under those layers.

"Are you out of your mind-" her hips rise a little to gain more friction from your palm involuntarily, you take your hand away just to be a little shit. Making her groan at the lost.

"Maybe i am," but before you can do much else the green light is on and your time is up. She pushes on the engine and you almost fall back with the momentum, barely finding the time to hold back to her. "Whoa- hey- hey" maybe she was the crazy one.

Now you weren't the only one playing said dangerous game, her's were deadly though, nowhere near close to your little teases of cat and mouse. You realize she's changed routes, and her grasp on the handlebar lever a little too strong for the speed limit.

"Wait where are we even-" she cuts you before you can finish.

"We will play what you want, how you want bunny."

Abby pulls near a back alley, without telling you anything she spins you around and you brace yourself against the stone wall of the shady corner, only support being her motorcycle.

"Acting like a cheap whore will only get you so far you know," she gives a little slap at your butt, so rudely "Good thing i'm here, yeah?"

Goddamn, seeing her mean like this was something new, but fuck was it a welcome surprise. You whine then, she presses you further into the wall with your cheeks squashed and her hand on your ass.

Abby's next move was simple, pulling your pants down together with your underwear, bunching at your bent knees, leaving you open on display. The cold air of both the alley and reality of being bare in public, well, semi public but still, was making you drip down hard.

Abby kneels down, presses her face to your cunt, laps at your slick as if honey, only getting you wetter. Eating pussy from behind felt dirtier, cheap.

She spreads your lips to lick deeper into your wet hole, teething on your slick pearly clit. Kissing your puffy lips and playing on your rim, she knew how you liked it best.

Well she also knew she had to keep it short, unfortunately. If it was up to her she'd keep you open on display like this and lick you clean until you were out of it and spent, but alas, you were getting your ass ate in a back alley for fucks sake.

Her tongue continue it's magic for some more, enough to get you off for two times, your hole leaking down like some fountain of youth.

But before giving you the pleasure of a third orgasm she pulls back, slaps your pussy from the back and pulls your pants back up. A needy whine slips your lips while you move your hips together to feel better. That was not enough.

As if reading your mind, "Look at the mess," trust she was no different under those clothes, "We'll continue later baby, when we get back."

Yeah and when you do get back, she'd split you apart with her eight inch strap, well lubed up and well pampered until you can't remember ever feeling so needy.

[amongemeraldclouds]

sweet dreams

It should have been simple: boy meets girl then falls in love. Except everything only happened in his dreams. Can Theodore Nott bridge the gap between fantasy and reality to get the girl of his dreams?

Inspired by Taylor Swift's song, Guilty as Sin?

Theodore Nott x f!Reader

Warning: Fluff, some smut so 18+ only MDNI, characters are aged up. Uses a magical concept that deviates from canon.

✿ Masterlist | 2.9k words

Prologue

The door creaked as you swung it open to leave The Three Broomsticks, eager to breathe in the cool evening air. You scrunched your note as smoke invaded the fresh air you hoped for and turned towards the culprit, Theodore Nott. You didn’t know him personally, but guys as popular as him did not need introduction.

He didn’t notice you as he took another puff and the streetlamp cast him in a soft halo. It was not fair how some people could look so effortlessly gorgeous. 

“Want one?” He reached out when he finally saw you staring, offering you his pack of cigarettes.

You huffed, “No thanks, I was hoping for some fresh air.”

He simply shrugged and turned the other way, smoking in a different direction and out of your way.

You hoped the cool air could return some of your sobriety, but nothing was as effective as a good ol’ near de*th experience. You looked up when you heard someone shrieking from the distance, growing louder and louder until you saw a broomstick zig zag across the sky that was quickly hurtling towards you and Theo.

Theo was quicker than you, holding his wand out and casting a spell just fast enough to redirect the impact to an open space. By the time you held your wand out, you had enough wits about you to cushion the witch’s fall.

You ran towards her to make sure she was fine. She laid on the ground as if she was peacefully sleeping, oblivious to the accident. You crouched beside her, arm outstretched to wake her when-

“Oh bumbling broomstick!” She yelled out and sat upright. You yelped in surprise, yanking yourself back and landing on your bottom. Theo was there within seconds, offering you a hand.

You took it and it was unbelievably soft, his grip strong as he supported you back up from the ground. You registered the smell of alcohol and cigarettes with a subtle hint of expensive cologne. You wanted to take another whiff, but reminded yourself to focus.

“A - are you okay?” You turned back to strange woman, careful to keep your distance this time.

“That chap knows sod all about wizard engineering. Mixing magic and muggle work - ridiculous!” she spat in disdain, dusting off her dress.

She turned around, catching your worried look and Theo’s stoic expression, noticing you both for the first time. “Oh my, where are my manners?” She asked, straightening her back and introducing herself.

“I’m Miss Amelia Adams, thank you for rescuing me,” you shook hands and smiled at her politely, introducing yourselves in return.

Your eyebrows knit together as she fished around her bag, looking for something.

She beamed when she found it and held out a daisy for you. “To properly thank you, please accept this flower,” she then leaned in conspiratorially, “it grants a wish.”

She winked before gathering herself and her ‘bumbling broomstick’ as she called it. “Well, I’m off,” she declared, walking away as quickly as she had come before you had any chance to say goodbye.

You were stunned, holding the flower in your hand. You scoffed at the idea of wishes, the only way to get something is to go out there and take it. Hard work and strategy was far more effective than any wish. After a few moments of awkward silence, you turned to Theo. “That was…” you trailed off, trying to find the right word.

“Odd,” he completed for you, just as stunned as you were.

“Are you okay?” You asked Theo. He grunts and you reassured him you’re fine in return.

“Have this flower, you saved us first. Thanks, by the way. You should get the wish,” you said casually, only half believing the mysterious Miss Amelia.

He accepted it and placed it in his coat, stoic expression still in place. When he said nothing else, you turned on your heels to go back to your friends in the pub.

You paused when Theo called after you as if saying goodbye as an afterthought. “See you at school?” He said. It seems he recognized you too.

You turned around and gave him a friendly grin, “in your dreams,” you said in a playful tone. Despite being school mates, you and Theo revolved around different orbits. You experienced just enough failed relationships to know better than to start a friendship with Mr. Emotionally Unavailable.

He just smirked and watched you go before returning to his cigarette. Had he held the flower in his hand, he would have noticed it glow before bursting into tiny glitters, a wish about to come true.

That night, Theo first dreamt of you.

Main story, months later

The booming party music faded when Theo heard the familiar sound of your laughter. He shifted in the Slytherin common room couch as his entire focus gravitated towards you like you were the sun his planet revolved around.

It was always disorienting, he thought, to hear and see you somewhere outside his dreams. Mostly because you never looked his way here but in his dreams, you’ve given him everything he ever needed and more.

He recalled the first words you ever said to him in his dream, “you again?”

“Is that such a bad thing?” He asked with his boyish grin, amused. He wasn’t used to seeing this reaction from others except for his friends.

He no longer remembered the rest of that conversation, but one minute you two were laughing at something silly and the next, he was tucked comfortably in bed. It was then he realized it was all a dream he could just laugh off and forget about. It was no longer funny by the third night he kept seeing you. 

You both discussed how absurd this all was until you realized how fun it could also be. So you tested different ways you could take your power back and control the dream you found yourselves in. He discovered you were smart and funny, it warmed something in Theo’s heart that he did not care to examine.

Soon enough, he was flying with you through the sky, swerving through clouds as the stars blurred past like strings of fairy lights. You both flew like it was the most natural thing in the world, no broomsticks needed. He felt like a kid again, fearless and free.

One time, he went to a muggle amusement park you heard so many great things about. You rode on roller coasters and ferris wheels then ate candy floss. You would have gotten a fever the next day from all the sugar and shouting if not for the fact this all happened in your dreams. He had never felt happier.

On quiet nights, you laid on cool grassy hills enjoying the evening breeze. Sometimes, you watched sunsets on the beach while listening to the ocean waves. Those were his favorite days. You told him about your big plans and ambitions. He tried to stifle his smiles, but your energy was so infectious. The world felt bigger and brighter when he was around you. 

He’d tell you about his mother. How close they were before they were permanently separated. He said he kept her alive by remembering their happy moments that he’d tell you stories about. He also talked about his strained relationship with his father and how silly his friends were, but oh how he’d d*e for them.

He found himself spilling thoughts and secrets he could never tell anyone else. He stammered every now and then, not used to opening up, but you were so patient. He felt safe with you because you’re a good listener. Besides, wasn’t he basically just talking to a figment of his imagination? He tried not to overthink it.

Theo felt the couch beside him dip as the familiar smell of smoke and cologne announced Mattheo’s presence. “Want to go for a smoke?” He asked with a smirk as he flashed a joint.

“Later, okay?” Theo replied distracted, his focus still on you.

A student rose from the couch and moved away as Lorenzo approached. Thanks to their popularity, the boys always seemed to find a convenient seat when they needed it. He joined the two with a grin, drinks in hand. Mattheo took in Enzo’s disheveled hair and loose tie. He accepted the drink and gave him a high five knowing he already had his conquest for the night. Theo accepted the drink and just held it.

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Mattheo asked, taking a swig from his cup.

Enzo blushed and took a sip of his drink. “You know I never kiss and tell.”

Mattheo rolled his eyes in response, “until you’re drunk enough.” He pushed Enzo’s cup back to his mouth. “Come on, drink up.”

Theo tuned out the conversation and he saw you dancing with your friends, your hips moving to the beat of the music. His eyes darkened as he remembered how those hips rocked into his. It didn’t take long before you first kissed him under the stars when the conversation died down, simply because there was nothing else to say.

All other thoughts and sentiments could only be expressed in the way your fingers gripped his wavy hair, when he bit your bottom lip and you moaned against him. Before he knew it, you were reciting his name like a prayer even though it felt anything but sacred when he slammed his hips into your dripping pussy. He savoured the way your nails scratched his back. He didn’t know until then how someone’s grip could make him feel so wanted.

He always made sure you knew he how much he appreciated you:

“Fuck, you’re taking me so well amore.” 

“I’ll make you feel so good principessa, I’ll ruin you for anyone else.”

“You’re so beautiful when you’re on your knees,” he’d say as he stuffed his hard length down your throat.

He memorized your shape and knew just where to touch you to be rewarded with your filthy moans and curses. He liked making your eyes roll to the back of your head. Loud screams, sheets gripped, chest heaving. He took delight in the way you came undone for him, your little whimpers were so cute he could not resist thrusting faster into you so he could feel you clench against his desperate cock again and again.

His favorite part was after he came inside you when you swiped your finger on your upper thigh and brought his spilled seed to your lips. You said you loved the way he tastes. He always said you could have as much as you want, he was all yours and you were his.

“Theo, mate?” Blaise called out to the unresponsive boy who gazed intently at the crowd.

He turned to Mattheo and narrowed his eyes, “how much weed did you give him?” Blaise couldn’t help but worry about his friends, it was exhausting really. Mattheo pushed Theo outside his comfort zone whereas Theo pulled Mattheo back in when he went to extremes. They always kept each other in check, but he was worried that balance could tip off at any moment. 

“Easy on the accusation, he’s a big boy. He can do what he wants,” Mattheo replies defensively. “Besides he hasn’t taken any green, he’s too high on that girl already. Been eye fucking her all night.” 

Mattheo’s harsh words finally cut through Theo’s daydreams and his jaw twitched in annoyance, “I’m not. You should talk about her more respectfully.”

Enzo chimed in, “you know I hate agreeing with Mattheo, but he’s right.” Ignoring Mattheo’s de*th glare, he continued, “there’s nothing respectful about the way you’ve been looking at that poor girl.”

Theo just rolled his eyes and groaned, not wanting to discuss this with his friends. Even if he did, he wouldn’t know where to start. Instead, he stood up and said, “I’m going out for a smoke,” and walked away before anyone could protest or go with him.

As he walked, his thoughts returned to you. One day, you laughed because of his jokes. He laughed because he was in love with you.

He laughed at how ridiculous it all was, but it had been months and he could no longer deny it. He always thought love was overrated. How can others go out there declaring love like it’s a wild adventure you’re about to embark on? Love that you would fight and break for? He didn’t want an adventure nor a battlefield.

Then there was you and he realized everything he knew about love had only been one version of it. Being with you restored his breath and calmed the butterflies in his stomach. It’s a love that did not challenge him to be better, but instead told him he is already good enough. That he was always enough. It’s the kind of love that felt like home. It’s the kind he never knew he needed.

You haunted him even when he was awake. He was always tempted to approach you to see if the things he saw in his head could be real. His only clue was the way you wore ribbons in your hair and how it matched your mood to the stories you’d tell him.

He noticed you wore red when you were angry like the time you had to do a group project by yourself. You wore blue when you felt sad and green when you felt generally peaceful. His favorite was pink because it meant you were happy. He noticed how the closer you got, you wore the pink ribbon more often. But today, you wore a black ribbon. He had never seen it before and it worried him. Then again it was only a theory, maybe it didn’t mean anything.

So he always talked himself out of approaching you. Theodore Nott was used to broken things whereas everything with you and about you was perfect. He knew at the very least to leave it well enough alone.

His thoughts carried him to the Astronomy Tower where he lit his cigarette and stared at the evening sky.

“You always seem to be polluting the fresh air I go out for.” Something in his heart froze and then burned brightly. It was you. He heard the smile in your voice before he turned around to look at you. Salazar, you were so beautiful.

“You always seem to find me when you need fresh air. Are you sure you’re not just looking for me?” He teased, but nevertheless moved to extinguish his cigarette. 

You chuckled at Mr. Arrogant who always knew his way around girls. “I was joking, keep your cigarette though your lungs probably hate you.”

He scoffed, he already hated himself. But mostly, he hated how desperately he wanted to reach out and kiss you without being a total creep. “I’ll survive,” he replied, taking a final drag before snuffing it out. “What brings you here?”

“Aside from the not-so-fresh air?” You grinned before turning serious. “This is a nice place to think.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Salazar, he’s relentless. “I’m in an impossible situation and I’m starting to lose hope,” you admit. So that’s what the black is for, Theo realized.

He scrunched his nose as he thought twice about what he was about to say. It was so silly trying to hold back when he’d give you the moon and the stars if you asked for it. “Whatever it is, you shouldn’t lose hope.”

You laughed at him and let out an exaggerated gasp, “coming from Mr. Emotionally Unavailable?”

He laughed in return, “ah, my reputation precedes me.”

“Exactly, so don’t go around saying things like that. People might think you have a heart behind that big brain of yours.”

“Wouldn’t want that, would we?” He leaned in conspiratorially.

“No, everyone would stare at you then.”

“You know it’s rude to stare.”

“Oh yeah? What should I do instead?” You challenged.

“Kiss me,” he said with a smirk, a half joke and a half plea.

You laughed and took a step back, placing distance between you. So this was how he got girls, you mused.

Salazar, he was losing you. If he was going to try, he had to be sincere. No charms, no masks. “Amore, I…” he began but grew self conscious at the nickname. “I mean, I wanted to…” he started then stopped. “I wonder if…” he tried again.

“I know,” you said, fire burning behind your eyes at recognition. This was the boy of your dreams. Awkward when he tries to be sincere and it was so adorable. It always made you feel special because you knew he had walls for the rest of the world. But with you, he was at home.

You closed the distance to meet his lips and the kiss said everything he needed to know. All those evenings together talking beneath starlit skies, exploring flesh and soul, falling in love. They were real.

His hands found the curve of your hips so naturally as he pulled you closer against him, just like he’s done countless times. He savoured the way your fingers made their way through his hair. Everything felt electric, at once new and familiar. It was better than anything you had dreamed of.

When you both broke for air, you found yourself blinking in disbelief. “How do we both have the same dreams?”

Theo just shook his head as if to say he didn’t know but then he remembered your first meeting. There was a witch with a bumbling broomstick and a flower. His eyes widened. “The flower from all those months ago.”

Your eyes lit up with remembrance, “the mysterious Miss Amelia!” You brought your hand to your lips, “I didn’t think it was real. I said you’d see me in your dreams.”

“And now you’re my dream come true, amore,” he said, pulling you in for a hug.

 You giggled at how sweet Mr. Not So Emotionally Unavailable could be. “And you’re mine. See you tonight then?”

He chuckled, “and then tomorrow I’ll take you on a real date?”

You scrunched your face, “but now we can’t fly through the stars anymore.”

“Oh, I have other ideas,” he whispered in your ear.

Your heart leapt to your throat and anticipation hummed in your veins. After all, some things were sweeter than dreams.

✿ Masterlist

A/N: I've mostly written for Enzo and Mattheo until now but when I thought of this plot, I just knew only Theo could do it justice. So this is how I wound up writing my first Theo fic. Hope you liked it!

[hypnoneghoul]

I know im not the person who sent the original ask but I would love to see more on the gills thing if you’re comfortable

i had dewzephfrit thoughts!!!

gills, anal ang vaginal sex, double penetration, overstimulation, kinda temperature play

Dewdrop is completely full.

He doesn’t remember much from the last hour beside Ifrit and Zephyr snatching him from the common room, stripping him and sitting him on their cocks before he’s even fully processed what was happening. He isn’t complaining—it’s an universal knowledge that he absolutely loves being stuffed full with anything and everything he can get.

What’s making his brain absolutely melt out of his ears, though, is Zephyr’s tongue in the gills on the left side of his neck and Ifrit’s fingers in the slits on the right.

“He’s so slick everywhere, Zeph,” the fire ghoul grunts and his hips twitch upwards, drilling his cock deep into Dewdrop’s sopping wet cunt. He moans sweetly and Zephyr uses that as an invitation to shove their tongue further into his gills.

They pull back after all but licking the inside of the water ghoul’s throat and they hum approvingly, “Such a wet little ghoul, aren’t you, droplet?”

He replies intelligently with yet another high, blissed out moan and both Zephyr and Ifrit chuckle. It’s the air ghoul’s turn to thrust into Dewdrop, slamming their cock into his tight asshole. The difference in temperatures between the three ghouls is another thing that makes Dewdrop absolutely mad; he feels like an ice cube shoved between a furnace that wants to absolutely melt him and a piece of cold glass desperately trying to keep him intact.

The water ghoul’s forehead thumps against Ifrit’s shoulder and he shudders, his claws digging further into his hips.

“Zeph,” Ifrit starts, “you think we can make him cum just like that?”

They scoff, “Obviously.”

If Dewdrop’s eyes wouldn’t be squeezed shut and if he’d look up, he’d see the two of them sharing a knowing look and a smirk over his head. He cries out when Ifrit and Zephyr stop all their movement. “N–No, please, gimme, gimme something.”

They only laugh at him.

Zephyr descends back and sucks the frills of his gill fins into their mouth, scrapes their fangs along the slits. The flesh there is so delicate that just a little bit more pressure and the air ghoul would make Dewdrop bleed. They have before, but now’s not the time.

Their tongue dips inside and they hum at the salty-sweet taste of the slick membrane covering the organ. Zephyr runs the very tip of the appendage along it and pretends to not notice Ifrit’s eyes burning through them as they do so, enjoying the feel of every single little ridge under their tongue.

They don’t care much for Dewdrop’s moaning and whining, not at all, and neither does Ifrit when he pushes his fingertips into the other set of his gills. They’re nothing like the air ghoul’s tongue—they’re hot and rough and hard and the feeling hovers on the line between pleasure and pain. Ifrit strokes inside and stretches the delicate slits and Dewdrop wails, clenching tightly around both their cocks.

“There we go,” Zephyr teases right into his throat. It starts to hurt, but neither of them pull back and the water ghoul’s pleasured cries do turn into ones of overstimulation.

“Break…I–I need…gimme a moment, please,” he begs, but he gets laughed at once again.

“Oh, but we’re not done, droplet. We’re far from done.”

[faetreides]

oreo tiger milk tea

cw: afab reader, suggestive content (18+ mdni): strap mentions and implied cunnilingus, ooc soft!tashi (she cares about you more than tennis), don’t think too hard about this

you hum and stir the shrimp, trying to remember how long you need to cook them for. you think the recipe said 4 minutes, so you shrug and hope for the best.

the giant flatscreen tv in your living room drones on in the background, you’re just waiting for tashi’s taped interview. her match already ended, you’re still heartbroken that you couldn’t be there but you cheered her on from your brand new sectional.

“yeah, my partner has been such a huge supporter. I’m so grateful to have them, and all my fans.” she says, blowing a kiss towards the camera.

it’s a run of the mill media response, but it gives you butterflies nonetheless.

you smile down at the sizzling shrimp like an idiot, taking it out and arranging them on the two bowls of rice on the table.

your legs are still sore and it takes everything in you to make it to your chair in one piece. tashi likes to joke that fucking you with her strap is all the work out she needs, that and smothering your face with her pussy. she didn’t keep you up as late last night, knowing that she had to be back on an emergency flight soon.

“hey, babe, what are you watching?” she teases as she peeks around the corner, having changed out of her airport clothes into sweats.

you grin and tilt your head up for a kiss, “my gorgeous wife’s interview, obviously.”

she rolls her eyes fondly, giving you your kiss. it’s slow and drawn out, her trip wasn’t long enough to call for a messy fight with teeth. plus, all the “home videos” tashi keeps on her phone are the perfect solution to be away from each other and horny.

“we’re not even married yet, stupid.”

“and what if I said that I'm pregnant with your baby?”

tashi gives you the most loving ‘what the fuck are you high on’ look, “then i’d say that i’m suprised it took this long.”

“so no shotgun wedding?” you pout, trying your hardest not to burst out laughing.

“don’t act like you don’t want a big wedding, you big baby.” she grins and pecks the tip of your nose.

you beam back at her and shrug, pulling her by the wrists to come sit down at the table next to you. you’re still so awestruck by the fact that you’re living in a multi million dollar home with your superstar fiancé.

the shrimp and rice is devoured with numerous compliments to the chef. tashi takes her sweet time wiping her (and your) face clean and putting the dishes in the dishwasher. you can’t help but let your eyes fall to her ass as she walks away.

“nice ass, Tash’ ” you say as you come up behind her and wind your arms around her torso.

you take a moment to sway in the kitchen, absorbing the faint traces of shower water and left over sweat under her orange and jasmine perfume.

“yours is nicer.” she hums, grinding back against you in languid circles.

“if you say so.”

“i do say so.”

your underwear is cutting it close to getting damp, sue you for being weak for your beautiful woman. the teasing rhythm doesn’t even phase you, you slide your fingers along the soft fabric covering her hips and pull her closer. it doesn’t escalate into frenzied dry humping, the warmth and unhurried friction of her ass cheeks against your mound is intoixcating enough.

you do her a favor and close the dishwasher. she casts a look over her shoulder, challenging you to make a move. you smirk and pick her up by her thighs, pushing her to jump up on the counter.

tashi lays down with the most smug smile a person could possibly wear, “you just cleaned the counters, baby, you better not make a mess.”

you stick your tongue out, pulling her pants down and getting close enough to tear her panties off with your teeth. she spreads her legs, giving you a clear view of her pussy. you gently blow air onto her clit and she sighs, rolling her shoulders back.

“yeah yeah, tash’. i’ll get it all in my mouth this time, i swear”.

because you know if you do, she’ll be taking YOUR strap.

[cyberneticfallout]

Chapter One: Filly

Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem!Reader Summary: You, a seasoned bounty hunter, team up with a gruff ghoul to capture a high-value target. Tags: Slow burn (and I mean SLOWWW), angst, eventual smut, language, canon-typical violence, more tags will be added Posted on AO3: Smoothie and The Ghoul Word Count: 1.2k

Bounty hunting is no walk in the park, but the rewards make it worthwhile. Your body aches as you trudge through the settlement known as Filly. Pushy vendors eagerly try to sell you their wares, with one particularly persistent one urging you to spend your hard-earned caps on dog meat. Politely declining their offers, you navigate your way through the bustling street towards the more reputable shops and services.

Having visited Filly a few times before, you recognize familiar faces among the locals. You exchange a silent greeting with the local repair girl and spot Ma June preparing to open her shop for the day, making a mental note to stop by later. As you approach a semi-functional Nuka Cola machine, you catch sight of a man seated in a chair. He's dressed like an outlaw from the Wild West, giving off an air of danger. His gaze locks with yours as you pass by.

A ghoul.

You've had mostly positive experiences with ghouls in the wasteland, but this one seems different. There's something about him that sets off alarm bells in your head. Feeling bold, you approach him after grabbing an unbearably warm Nuka Cola.

"Hey," you stand in front of him and take a sip. "I don't personally have a problem with ghouls, but the folk around here aren't too fond of them."

Smirking, he looks up at you, his sunken eyes and lack of nose more pronounced in the sunlight. Most people find ghouls unsettling, but you've grown accustomed to their appearance after years of interacting with them.

"That may be true," he drawls. "but I ain't here to make friends."

You offer him a sip of your drink, he stares at you in confusion. Taking it as a rejection, you finish the rest and toss the bottle aside.

"You look like you're either playing cowboy or you're a bounty hunter," you remark.

"What's your guess?" he snarls.

Leaning towards him, you place your hands on the arms of his chair. "I'm guessing you're here looking for a specific doctor."

"You're pretty bold for getting so close to a ghoul, smoothskin."

"And you're pretty bold for assuming I've never been closer." A small smile creeps onto your face as he looks at you curiously.

"I'm sure our paths will cross again. Until then..." Stepping back, you give him a casual salute and walk away.

The presence of the ghoul gives you the feeling that shit is about to go down so you decide to hang around on the outskirts of Filly. Leaning against a tree just outside the bustling street of vendors, you can hear the sound of raised voices and the unmistakable echoes of gunfire coming from the center of town.

"Called it," you mutter under your breath. There's no need to dive headfirst into the chaos when you can simply wait it out and observe the aftermath. Given the hefty reward on the line for this particular doctor, it's unlikely that he'll be an easy target. If he's anything like the other high-value bounties you've pursued in the past, he'll find a way to slip away, and you'll have to track him down.

Inhaling deeply, you take a moment to assess your surroundings, ensuring that your rifle and pistol are in proper working order. As you inspect your weapons, the air is suddenly filled with distorted screams, "No, no, no!" Looking up, you witness a spectacle that catches you off guard. A suit of Power Armor is soaring uncontrollably through the sky above you. Could it be the Brotherhood of Steel? This bounty just keeps getting crazier.

The Power Armor veers off in the opposite direction, leaving you to wonder what in the wasteland is going on. With the chaotic gunfight seemingly subsiding, you make your way back towards the town center. It appears that the flying garbage can and ghoul have caused quite the commotion, scattering the combatants and bringing an end to the firefight.

As you draw closer to the scene, the absurdity of the situation becomes even more apparent. Bodies, torn apart and scattered haphazardly, litter the ground. The locals, seizing the opportunity, have already begun looting them. You catch sight of the ghoul making his way towards a path that leads out of town. Without a moment's hesitation, you decide to follow him.

Quickening your pace, you navigate through the debris and bodies, doing your best to avoid the looters who pay you no mind. The ghoul moves quickly with a dog by his side, his sunken eyes focused on his route to the wastes.

As you approach the outskirts of town, the ghoul glances back, acknowledging your pursuit. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he comes to a halt and turns to face you.

"I ain't accepting companions," he declares, a note of irritation in his voice.

"That's too bad," you reply with a smirk, coming to a stop in front of him. Your attention is drawn to the dog standing beside him, looking up at you with a wagging tail. A warm feeling washes over you - you've always had a soft spot for dogs.

Kneeling down, you scratch behind the dog's ears and ask, "What's her name?"

"I don't fuckin' know," the ghoul snaps back.

You raise an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and confusion on your face. "Did you hit your head back there? How do you not know your dog's name?"

The ghoul rolls his eyes slightly, clearly exasperated. "She ain't my dog. She was with the doctor. Along with some vault dweller."

A surge of curiosity courses through you at the mention of the doctor and the vault dweller. This situation just keeps getting more intriguing. You stand up, still keeping an eye on the ghoul.

“A vault dweller?”

He begins to draw his gun and points it at you, “Give me a reason not to shoot your ass. You’re startin’ to annoy me.”

“Calm down, beef jerky.” Taking a step back, you maintain a calm demeanor. “I think we can help each other out.”

The ghoul's grip on his gun tightens, but he hesitates, seemingly intrigued by your proposition. "I don't need help.”

“Oh but yes, you do.” You pull out a small vial filled with amber liquid, capturing his attention. “This dog will do a great job tracking its owner but I’ll do an even better job of making sure you don’t go feral. No offense but you seem pretty old - even for a ghoul.”

The ghoul's grip on his gun loosens, and he seems to consider your words. After a moment, he reluctantly lowers his weapon. "Fine," he grumbles. "But don't think I owe you anything."

You nod with a small smile, "Fair enough."

[yandere-romanticaa]

I've had a very fun and fruitful conversation with @allfearstofallto and she had some very strong reactions for a story about yandere Diluc and Tartaglia that has been marinating in my mind for a while now. I'll just give you a brief version of my idea.

You and the 11th Fatui Harbinger are to be wed. With your freedom stripped away from you and with your wedding date fast approaching, you are working tirelessly to escape the Harbinger's grasp.

However, even with your freedom stripped away, even if you have no autonomy on your own, there's an inkling in your heart in which you cannot hate your captor. He is far too kind and gentle towards you, the way in which he treats you makes your heart swell with a plethora of emotions.

But enough is enough.

You need to leave. Fast.

One evening, you act sweeter, more submissive than usual. Your fiancee eats it up and is delighted by this change in attitude. His happiness is evident because now things can proceed without a hitch. Don't worry darling, you won't be anywhere near his work. He'll keep you safe, fed and loved.

All he asks in return is to be in your heart. Love him. Love him, please. It's a hard request, a selfish one even, he knows this.

He can make it up to you. He can and he will.

He promises.

You kiss him in bed, telling him that you understand. Your eyes shift towards the hidden suitcase in the corner as you feel the drugs start to kick in. Tartaglia is fast asleep, and you finally taste the sweetness of freedom.

The man wakes up the next morning in a daze. The bed is empty and cold.

His heart shatters into a million pieces. He roars out your name like a wounded animal, his throat sore and bleeding from the pain.

He must find you.

Meanwhile, you made your way towards the City of Freedom.

You settle in, find a job, a place to live in. It's hard but you manage.

You ignore the lingering presence that you feel behind you when you're alone at night. You're making it all up, you keep telling yourself.

No one is following you.

One evening, you enter a cozy tavern. You order a drink and it is prepared by a handsome, albeit stoic bartender. You manage to get him to open up. He introduces himself as Diluc, the owner of the fine establishment in which you sat in.

How neat.

Due to various different factors, after a short while Diluc takes you in. He is patient and strict. It's an improvement.

You don't know about his ever growing obsession with you. You don't know about the endless sea of portraits he has of you. He keeps it all hidden well under wraps.

Regardless, Diluc is still only human. It's only natural that his jealousy would bubble up and rear in its ugly head from time to time.

Dawn Winery is in a way, forced to attend a massive social gathering. Diplomats from the North are everywhere and, of course, Tartaglia spots you in the crowd.

Even if his eyes were to be plucked out, he would always manage to recognize you.

Tensions rise and the danger of bloodlust reeks in the air. Much to his chagrin, Childe cannot simply just kill Diluc and be done with it.

He is being forced to play Mr Nice Diplomat.

Oh the horror, being stuck between these two.

Now, since this has the potential to be long as fuck, I was thinking of making it into a multiple part story. The best name I could come up with it so far was "A Song of Ice and Fire". I'm open to title names, if someone has better ideas. An important note to add would be that this would be a serious commitment for me as I haven't done a story like this in years. Chapter updates would probably take me a long time due to my job and potential lack of energy, but this idea has been in my brain for years now, which is a clear sign that I'm passionate about it. And, my question is - would you like for me to make this story come to life?

[the-pen-pot]

'What happened to your back?' Arthur's voice sounded tense, stiff and uncertain. The brush of warm fingers against the three, pale lines across his shoulder-blade made Merlin jolt in alarm. He whirled around, the tunic still clutched in his hands as he blinked stupidly, his words caught somewhere in his throat. Not that it mattered. Arthur was too busy staring at the starburst scar the size of a grown man's hand that lay right in the centre of his front, over his heart. A frown of confusion melted beneath a mask of horror, and Merlin swallowed hard as all the colour fled Arthur's face. 'What happened to your chest?!'

Arthur finds out about Merlin's scars. Read above on AO3, or keep reading below 👇

 

It was his own stupid fault, Merlin thought grimly. His usual clumsiness and an unguarded moment was all it took. 

He had been helping set up for Uther's latest stupid feast, and he'd slopped red wine all down the front of a blue tunic. In theory, he could have dismissed the stain with a spell, but the smell would have haunted him all evening. Arthur might know that all the time he was apparently in the tavern he was dealing with some magical crisis or other, but the same could not be said for the rest of the court. His reputation was bad enough as it was without adding fuel to that particular fire.

He'd ducked into one of the rooms where they stored the fresh laundry, pulling free a tunic he'd not yet collected before peeling himself free of the clinging fabric. The rustle of cloth meant he didn't hear the creak of the door, and the voice that rang out behind him made him jolt in surprise.

'What happened to your back?'

Arthur's voice sounded tense, stiff and uncertain. The brush of warm fingers against the three, pale lines across his shoulder-blade made Merlin jolt in alarm. He whirled around, the tunic still clutched in his hands as he blinked stupidly, his words caught somewhere in his throat. 

Not that it mattered. Arthur was too busy staring at the starburst scar the size of a grown man's hand that lay right in the centre of his front, over his heart. A frown of confusion melted beneath a mask of horror, and Merlin swallowed hard as all the colour fled Arthur's face.

'What happened to your chest?!'

'Er...' Merlin winced, because although he had told Arthur about his magic – about everything he had done in his name, the good and the bad – he had rather glossed over some of the details. He hadn't done any of it for Arthur's gratitude, after all. He didn't need his thanks or his sympathy, but he couldn't deny that some of his choices had left their marks on his body for the world to see.

'Why are you in here?' he managed, hoping to derail the conversation as he hastily tugged on the fresh garment, shoving his arms through the sleeves as he hid the scars from sight. 'Did you need something?'

'I need you to tell me what happened.' Arthur's blue eyes snapped with an aimless, volatile sort of anger. His arms were folded across his chest, making his tunic strain at the shoulders, and the scowl on his brow suggested he wouldn't be easily swayed from his questioning. 'Merlin, who hurt you?'

'It was ages ago. It doesn't matter.'

He went to duck around Arthur, mumbling something about the feast preparations. Yet before he got more than a few paces, strong fingers snagged his wrist. It wasn't a tight grip, Merlin could have broken free with ease, but he still came to heel like a dog obeying its master.

'No, I'm not letting you leave,' he murmured, the rumble of his words sending a bolt of heat arcing down Merlin's spine. It snatched the air from his lungs, leaving him breathless and tense as Arthur turned him back around, shifting his grip to Merlin's shoulders as he stared into his eyes. 'Not until you tell me the truth. Who. Hurt. You?'

The anger in that expression wasn't aimed at him; Merlin knew that well enough. There was nothing Arthur hated more than feeling helpless. He was protective of his knights where Uther was dismissive of their loyalty and their sacrifice, but the gleam in his eye went beyond that. Dread had stolen the warmth from his face, and he was watching Merlin with the kind of intensity that some would find unnerving.

'Sigan and his stupid gargoyles' – He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, indicating the scars on his back before tapping one finger over his heart – 'Nimueh and a fireball.' They were such simple words for the horror of stony claws raking his back and the flash and burn of the incendiary spell that had hit him square in the chest, but in the end, they summed it up pretty neatly. 'It's fine, Arthur. They healed.'

He frowned, not understanding the expression on Arthur's face. The knights took injuries for him all the time, and while he praised their courage, he never looked like that – as if someone had reached into his guts and wrenched them out of him, leaving him hollow.

'That's not the point.' Arthur's grasp moved from his shoulders, drifting down his arms to his hands. It was a soothing gesture, one Merlin wasn't even sure was consciously done. Yet even he could feel how Arthur's touch mapped the calluses on his palms and the small scars that were an apprentice healer's mark: tiny burns and the occasional slim white line where the herb-knife had slipped and sliced skin instead. Those didn't cause him any distress, and Merlin realised it was because they were expected: wounds received in the execution of his duties.

Duties which, even knowing about his magic, Arthur clearly didn't realise involved protecting him with as much determination as any one of his knights.

'You've got scars,' Merlin pointed out, thinking of the starburst from the Questing Beast's bite, among others.

'I'm a knight. A prince.' He didn't add "a target"; he didn't have to. They were both thinking it. 'I've been trained to fight since I could walk. You... haven't.'

Merlin snorted. That was an understatement. Still, he could practically see the spin of considerations in Arthur's head, and some magical sense forewarned him that if he didn't speak quickly, he'd find himself on the duelling field being beaten half-to-death in the name of "practice".

'Wielding a sword wouldn't have saved me from either of these, and it's not like I can train in battle-spells, is it?' He shrugged one shoulder, unwilling to disturb Arthur's hand from where it still gripped his, tracing idle, tormenting little patterns against his skin. He didn't think Arthur realised what he was doing: how each caress made Merlin's breath come from deeper in his chest. It made his heart feel like it pumped hot honey, rather than blood, around his veins. 'It's not exactly discreet.'

Arthur pulled as face, but he didn't argue. It had been slow, steady work, getting him to see just how much damage the ban on magic had caused. Arthur would not care for his own sake: he was not interested in doing anything the easy way, but he was beginning to see how his people could suffer from its lack. Now, he looked at Merlin with fresh realisation. 'You can't learn how to defend yourself. Not without risking exposing your magic to all of Camelot.'

It was a flat statement of fact, one that he could not deny. It wasn't just that he could not practice; even studying the theory was a risky endeavour. As long as Uther still sat upon the throne, then Merlin had to work from the shadows and hope that he and Arthur both survived to see better days.

'Armour.' Arthur said it softly. 'I cannot change the laws of Camelot, but there's is nothing to say a servant cannot wear armour. You could enchant it, couldn't you? Extra spells to protect you from magic. You've done it to mine.' One golden eyebrow lifted in challenge, as if daring Merlin to deny it. 'No one will question it. They know you come on almost every patrol with us, and more than one person has remarked upon the fact that you do not wear anything but the tunic on your back. Truthfully, I should have done something about that long before now.'

Merlin pursed his lips. The rumours in court were already rife, and armour would just be another sign of his favour. Already, people noticed how Arthur let Merlin get away with disobedience that bordered on treason, sometimes, and they had taken note.

It was tempting to argue: to say he didn't need it. Armour wouldn't protect him from magical attacks, but he could see the desperation in Arthur's gaze. Those eyes had dipped to the laces of Merlin's tunic, as if envisioning the scar beneath. There was a haunted slant to his expression, as if he were imagining how that day could have ended.

The hand around Merlin's tightened, firm and sure, and when Arthur lifted his eyes once more, he looked resolute. 'I won't see you hurt again,' he said, speaking like a king laying down the law. 'Not if I can help it. One day, it will be different.' He swallowed. 'One day, you will be able to practice your magic without having to hide, but for now, let me help keep you safe. Please?'

Merlin blinked, his heart heaving in a dizzying whirl. Arthur had never spoken of this before. He almost couldn't believe his ears, and he shifted where he stood, one hand reaching out as if he could pin Arthur's words – this very moment – motionless in place.

'Do you mean it?' he rasped, trying to fight the urge to lean forward but unable to stop himself. 'You'll return magic to Camelot?'

'Yes.' Arthur tilted his head to the side, a faint smile curving his lips at whatever he saw in Merlin's face. 'I swear it.'

Beyond the door, the sounds of hurrying servants broke through the heavy air between them. It was enough to send a ripple of awareness through the tiny room – to make Merlin realise how close they stood to each other. All around them the balance of their friendship seemed to wobble, breathless, but it was Merlin, not Arthur, who stepped back in retreat.

'I – I don't know what to say.' A grin spread over his face, bright and unstoppable. 'Thank you!'

And if he hadn't already loved Arthur for more months than he cared to count – hidden and unacknowledged – he would have fallen there and then to see Arthur's bright, boyish grin light up the room.

'You're welcome, Merlin.'

– – –

Buckles chimed as Arthur slid them into place, sheathing Merlin in the armour he had commissioned. It was not the glittering mail and stalwart plate of his knights, but soft leather with scale pressed between: light and flexible, but strong enough to shield Merlin from the worst the world had to offer.

He wet his lips, looking up at him under his lashes as his pulse thrummed helplessly. The promise he had made still echoed in his mind. No doubt accompanied it; he would not go back on his word. Not after he'd seen the vicious light of hope lend its glow to Merlin's features.

Besides, magic was not the only thing he planned to change when he took the throne. He could not admit how he felt for Merlin now, not while his father still lived and all the expectations of the court were against them. He would not make Merlin suffer that.

Instead, he did what he could to protect the man who had stolen his heart. He would keep him safe in whatever way he could, and one day, he would be free to claim the love that Merlin promised him with every glance.

They would have their golden age, together. Arthur would make sure of it.

[carnivorousmossbeast]

Transit

no content warnings

Summary: John “Soap” MacTavish & Simon “Ghost” Riley wait for a military convoy. Ghost finds out Soap knows a song that isn’t “Anarchy in the UK” by the Sex Pistols.

The only thing cutting through the silence of the pre-dawn darkness was the lieutenant opening and closing his mouth, clacking his bloody tongue piercing against his teeth — mindless and heedless of the phantom pain shooting through Soap’s mouth every time it happened. The wet sounds of lips parting, smacking, tongue licking and detaching from soft, spit-slicked gums were driving Soap up the walls.

“Gum?” There lieutenant’s voice cut through Soap’s unease.

“Gum- what?”

“Did ye want any?” Ghost asked, producing a sliver-wrapped strip from somewhere. Mysterious pocket candy, as likely to be fresh as it might have been plucked from a dead Russian operative seven months ago, and Ghost had simply forgotten to empty his pockets before laundry. Juicy Fruit mixed with old pocket sweat stains and Persil detergent didn’t seem like a flavour to chase the miserably watered down and microwaved coffee sachet he’d called his breakfast because mess didn’t open until five. Two full hours before they were scheduled to leave. Soap sighed and turned his face towards the window. They were supposed to be out on the road already, but the fucking convoy of course ran late — and now all they could do was stare at the silent radio and wait. He hated these hours wasted in limbo.

Ghost seemed oddly calm, for once. Aside from the whole mouth-smacking of course. Soap wondered why he hadn’t noticed it before. Perhaps the situation had him more on edge than usual.

“Bother ye if I start the motor?” Soap asked. The windows were fogging up and the used air was making him sleepier than it should, although given the three thirty wakeup call he decided to cut himself some slack. Still, being this tired without the convoy having reached base yet, let alone getting a move on, it didn’t seem like his best idea.

“Keep the lights down. Lieutenant Morrison gets weird about his boys and they’re facing us.” The lieutenant wiggled his leg. “Tell me about your basic,” Ghost finally asked.

“Wot? Story time because ye’s types didn’t have a good sergeant in basic?” Soap snorted. Ghost did that thing he liked to do where he could be staring at Soap, at Soap’s bones and nerves and delicate blood vessels, or something not-Soap which just so happened to occupy the same space as Soap. The eery glare didn’t really do it for Soap so he turned the key in the ignition and took a second to appreciate the warm red and orange lights popping up before he twisted the key one notch further and the old jeep coughed back to life. The machine was loud in the pre-dawn silence, cutting through the dreams and exhausted half-comas that their comrades surely still tried to escape in.

“Used to ah. We used to sing a lot. Had an Irish boy in our group, he knew all these songs from his ma’s pub.”

“Sing like a bird, the lot of you?”

“Ever heard a shoebill, Lt?” Soap asked.

“On YouTube,” his lieutenant admitted easily. Soap sniggered to himself.

“Surprised ye know what that is, sir.”

“Had to take basic somewhere, didn’t I?” Ghost asked mildly. The weirdly wet mouth-noises stopped, and instead he started popping one of the buttons on his thigh pocket.

“Yer right mad if ye think for a second I believe that Sir, all due respect.”

Ghost only hummed to Soap’s indignant reply. “Sing us a song then, Soap.”

“Ever heard a Kiwi?”

“Had one run up to me in the middle of a night training with Aussie SAS,” Ghost replied with what sounded like a grimace. “The poor sods that were sent to populate that continent really had to think they were being sent to hell.”

“They didn’t know how America would turn out,” Soap replied absently, trying not to focus too hard on the repetitive metallic plop of Ghost opening and closing the buttons on his trouser pockets.

“A right comedian before sunrise.” At least Ghost seemed amused by his disgruntled, short replies.

“Aye, Dante had shit on me,” Soap agreed easily and wondered for the umpteenth time why Ghost would be so fucking awake at this ungodly hour. He wasn’t used to superiors sitting awake while they waited for a convoy, wasn’t used to conversation beyond talking shit at the CO passed out snoring in the passenger seat.

“Not quite, Soap,” Ghost said with what sounded like a smile. “Promised me a song, sergeant.”

“Nae danger did I promise ye anything,” Soap tried.

“Don’t get cute with me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sir.”

“Go’an then.”

Soap sighed and rolled his eyes for good measure before adjusting the fan to heat the windows.

“There are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl,” he started and then stopped himself to clear his throat. “But give me a ramblin’ rover frae Orkney down to Dover. We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.

“If you’re bent with arthritis, your bowels have colitis, you’ve gallopin’ bollockitis, and you’re thinkin’ it’s time you died,

“If you’ve been a man of action, though you’re lying there in traction, you may gain some satisfaction thinking ‘Jesus, at least I tried’.

“Oh there’s sober men and plenty, and drunkards barely twenty, there are men of over ninety that have never yet kissed a girl.”

“Missed your true callsign, didn’t you?” Ghost asked quietly, as if he regretted breaking the silence after Soap’s voice cracked on the last line. “Sing like a lark for me, Soap.”

“Not a happy song, Lt.” Soap exhaled through his nose, and tried not to think too hard about the way his voice had cracked. On how many notes he had missed. Why he had chosen that particular part of the song to sing.

“Doesn’t change that you sing it nicely, sergeant. Sound like a choir boy.” Soap bit his lip, uncomfortable with how easily Ghost had spoken about Soap’s childhood, regardless of if it stemmed from Soap’s personnel file — which Ghost has full access to, it would just be weird — or if it had come from conjecture — also weird to think of himself as so easily fitting into patterns, Soap thought.

“Think that’s the convoy up ahead, on the service road?” Soap noticed movement to his left, half hidden behind his lieutenant’s bulky form. Desperately wished for the moving string of lights to be his reprieve from Ghosts eery perception. Ghost turned in his seat, twisting his entire spine. Soap thought to himself that he’d have been both more and less surprised at the same time if his lieutenant had just swivelled his head like an owl.

“You good to drive, sergeant?” Ghost asked.

“Tell you when it changes, Lt,” Soap promised and watched Ghost’s satisfied little nod.

“Then hit the road,” he ordered lightly and started fiddling with that stupid pocket again.

“Yes, Sir.” Soap smiled to himself while he turned on the lights and pulled out of the parking space to slip between the guard vehicles of the MP.

We will roam the country over and together we’ll face the world.

He hummed to himself, quietly of course as to not disturb the night any further. If Ghost joined him, Soap pretended not to pay any attention to it and weaselled the soft sound away to keep safe in his breast pocket.

[pumpkinpastiesandcoffee]

Princess - Lip Gallagher

Lip Gallagher x F! Reader 18+

Summary: Tony's little sister has a crush on Lip and Lip has fallen for her even if she seems like a princess. Words: 2400 Warnings: NSFW, Dry sex / Dry humping, alcohol, marijuana

~MDNI~

Y/n was Tony Markovich's little sister and she had the world's biggest crush on Phillip Gallagher. Lip hadn't always liked the girl, he found her too shy, always hiding in the background but the last few months, bumping into her as she leaves her brothers place to then hanging out together, he found himself falling for her. Walking sunshine would be his best description of her, followed closely by princess which she complains about although she secretly loves the nickname.  

Lip was apprehensive to start anything with Tony's little sister, the man might like Fiona and by extension Lip and his family, but he was still a cop and he'd seen how scary he could be towards her boyfriend Kyle a few years back so it was no surprise she'd been single since. Y/n however was afraid Lip just wasn't into her and had been too afraid to say anything, her anxiety keeping her feelings just below the surface. It was hard though, watching him with Karen then even harder when they stopped seeing each other because now she could feasibly tell him how she feels but still the words would stick in her throat.

Tonight, she sat huddled under a picnic blanket, staring at the small crackling fire as people around the makeshift circle laughed and chatted. She glanced up when a beer bottle entered her line of sight and smiled up at Lip who was offering her the drink. "Thanks Lip, looks like it was a fight for the cooler tonight" she mused, eyeing the small group of guys that were stood around said cooler yelling at each other. "Ah, worth the fight I recon" Lip had laughed as he sat down beside her and as she tugged the blanket tighter around herself. Getting a glare from her in response, "It's not my fault I dressed for summer in summer, only for the temperature to drop like it's fall".

Lip pulled out a joint, lighting it up and taking a long drag of it, watching the smoke he blows back out dissipate into the air. Turning slightly, he offered it to y/n before remembering she doesn't smoke, "sorry, I always forget, you're a princess" he scoffed, lips curled into a playful smirk. He often made fun of her for it but never with the intention of forcing her into it and up until now she had never shown an interest either, never seemed bothered by the teasing. However, to his surprise he felt her fingers brush over his hand as she moved to take it from him causing Lip to raise a brow in surprise.

"Y'know I'm joking right? It's fine you don't smoke" Lip was quick to reassure her as he turned to face her properly. "Yeah, I know. You'd never make me do anything I didn't want to Lip. I want to try it, just been afraid of getting caught by Tony and he's working tonight, so" she shrugged, blue eyes flicking up to meet his. "Plus, I know I'm safe with you for my first-time smoking weed so, if the offer stands?" Lip nodded, that familiar warm feeling settling in his chest which he was quick to wave off as the weed even though he knew better. He handed the joint to her, explaining how to smoke it then watching as she followed his instructions.

Y/n only held it in her lungs for a few seconds before the dry burn of her lungs had her coughing. Lip reached over, rubbing her back as he laughed at her, a shit eating grin on his face. “Cat got your lung?” Lip laughed again, only to get whacked in the chest by her hand causing him to cough. Y/n shot him daggers but her lips were quirked up, her features alight with amusement the way he loved and it made him smile and that warm feeling tighten.

It only took a few minutes for it to kick in, but when it did, y/n found herself entranced by the fire, the way it moved and the flames broke off and flicked up into the sky had her captivated. Lip however was captivated instead by her, the way her eyes watched the flames and reflected them and the little gasp when it made a particularly loud crackle. At one point y/n leant into Lip’s side, his arm moving to wrap around her while she spoke, “Does it always feel this peaceful?” Lip shook his head, squeezing her lightly, “Not always, depends on the person and how often they smoke.” Y/n made a small sound in reply before smiling up at him. “I think this is the first time in my life I actually feel calm, like I can talk without everything catching in my throat, I like it” her voice trailed off as her eyes returned to the fire.

She perked up as a new song came on, “Oh! Oh Lip, I love this song” she beamed, standing up and extending her hand to him, “dance with me?” Had it been anyone else he would’ve said no but he couldn’t, not to her and with that he placed his beer down and took her hand. Y/n wasn’t a good dancer, but her awkwardness was rather endearing to Lip as they danced to a few songs, laughing freely as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Lip smiled, wrapping his own arms around her waist and hugged her back before lifting her up and spinning her around. She giggled, holding on tighter until he set her back down. Y/n expected the anxiety to bubble up as she looked up at him but instead found only the uninhibited desire to kiss him. One hand still holding his shoulder, the other moved to his cheek as she leaned in to kiss him, catching Lip off guard entirely. It took a second for him to kiss back but once he did, he never wanted to stop. It was a simple kiss, but they could both feel more, so when she pulled back, he pouted causing her to laugh.

“Walk me home?” she asked, a small smile on her lips. Lip nodded, “yeah, ‘course.” He took her hand and they headed for Tony’s house, although as they reached the foot path, the cool breeze had y/n shivering, curling into his arm. As much as he liked her being that close, he felt bad and quickly pulled away to shed his coat and wrap her in it, smiling when only her finger tips peeked through the sleeves. Taking her hand again, he was relieved when she leant back into him. As they reached the porch, she unlocked the door and stepped inside, smiling back at him, “coming?” Lip was quick to take her outstretched hand and follow her in. They walked upstairs and she pushed open one of the doors, he looked around her bedroom before looking back at her. She was kicking off her shoes and hopping onto her bed so he followed suit, coming to sit beside her, back against the wall and feet hanging off the other side of her bed while she sat facing him, legs tucked to the side.

Her fingers brushed his hand, pulling his eyes to her, “can I kiss you again?” Lip smiled, leaning forward and she was quick to meet him halfway. This time the kiss wasn’t unexpected and Lip made sure to make it a good one. His hands sat either side of her face, fingers curling into her hair as his tongue traced her bottom lip and without hesitation she opened her mouth for him, giving him complete control as she leant into him. Her hands grasped at his shoulders and Lip moved a hand to her waist, pulling her closer until she was sat, straddling his lap. The kissing only got more heated from there, Lip ran his hand on her waist under her top, loving the way she leaned into his touch. His hand moved to her back, tracing up and down her spine before returning to her waist.

Lip broke the kiss causing y/n to whine before he pressed his lips to her neck, hands moving to shove his jacket off her shoulders. She easily shrugged it off, letting the heavy fabric hit the floor as she focused on the way his teeth nipped her neck making her gasp. “Lip” her voice came out so softly it was barely audible but their proximity meant he heard her and he smiled against her throat, “Princess?” Her cheeks reddened at the teasing tone, her fingers carding through his hair, tugging at the short pieces at the back making him groan as he looked up to her. Both of his hands sat on her hips now and he gripped them tightly, pulling her forward, grinding her against the rough denim that wasn’t doing much to conceal how hard he was in that moment. She surprised herself with the moan that escaped her throat, cheeks now a deep shade of red as she looked down at him.

“Lip, I…” her voice trailed off and Lip stopped, eyes lifting to meet hers, brows knitting together, “We don’t have to if you don’t want to” She shook her head, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before glancing down, “I want to, I really do but, you should know I’m, well I’m a virgin.” Lip felt bad, the way she whispered the word ‘virgin’ sounded like she was ashamed and his hand caught the side of her face, encouraging her to look at him, “It’s okay.” Now it was his turn for his voice to trail off as he sighed, “You’re still high though, we can’t… you’re first time should be sober.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I should’ve told you before I invited you up here, now we’re both, I’m sorry Lip!” y/n rambled, immediately afraid she’d ruined his night and was about to hop off when Lip grabbed her hip, shaking his head, “It’s okay, we can just, make-out if you want? Or not if you don’t want to.” She shifted her weight back to the centre of his lap to kiss him however the friction had them both groaning. She was quick to apologise again and Lip was just as quick to reassure her it was okay, pressing his lips to hers in hopes of returning to the make-out session.

Lip kept his hands to her back and waist, his lips on hers or the hickey he had started earlier. Y/n however was still well aware of just how turned on they both were and decided to roll her hips against him. Maybe it was the weed or maybe it was the desperation for some form of friction, either way, feeling Lip dig his fingers into her waist made her smile. It wasn’t until she did it a second time with a bit more force that Lip realised it was no longer an accident, he glanced up at her with a brow raised and she bit her lip, “Is this okay?” Lip was sure he should say no and stop her, he should be decent and tell her to go to bed, but his decency seemed to stop at sex. Grinding on one another though? That was fair game. So instead, he found himself pushing his hips hard up into her, watching with a smirk as she gasped.

Things devolved into desperation after that, both tipsy and high, they wanted to feel good and their hot kisses full of tongue and teeth were only adding fuel to the fires burning in them. Lip was now gripping y/n’s hips tightly, using them as leverage to drag her over his now painfully hard cock, grunting as he pressed his lips to the crook of her neck. Y/n was no better, the previous slow rolling of her hips was now faster and getting uneven like her breathing, the small whimpers and moans only pushing Lip closer to his own climax. “Fuck, princess, you sound so sweet” Lip groaned against her ear, kissing her temple then her lips. She had avoided speaking, knowing sentences weren’t going to be achievable right now but she stuttered nonetheless, “so close, Lip, so” her voice cut off with a particularly harsh thrust from Lip. “Lip, Lip please, Lip,” she whimpered, nails biting into his shoulders as she chanted his name. She came moments later, body tensing as she cried out his name while Lip kept her moving as until he came too, groaning against her chest.

Y/n began to come down from her high, head resting against his shoulder as she got her breathing back to normal. Lip held her tightly still, arms now wrapped around her waist and his head leant back against the window. They stayed like that for a while, both enjoying the euphoria and comfort within one another before finally y/n leant back, cheeks red as she looked at Lip. He was quick to kiss her before leaning back to meet her eyes, “you okay?” She nodded, “yeah, I’m okay. You?” Lip nodded, kissing her cheek softly. “It’s probably really silly but god I am so tired now” she whispered causing Lip to laugh. “No, it’s not, it’s pretty normal. I should get home anyway; let you get to bed” He smiled softly at her.

Nodding, y/n slipped herself off his lap, “Yeah, plus if Tony comes home to us in bed together, I think he’d kill you.” Lip laughed nervously, hopping off the bed and grabbing his jacket, holding it in front of his crotch in hopes he could hide the dark patch they’d both made. He leant across the bed, kissing her gently but with a depth that had her head spinning. “I’ll see you tomorrow princess” Lip smirked at her before heading out. Y/n sat on her bed wondering if she just imagined it all or if it was some crazy weed induced hallucination, however as her eyes flicked across the floor, she noticed Lip’s scarf on the floor and she went a grabbed it. With the scarf in hand, she curled up under her covers, bringing the scarf up to her nose and breathing in, smiling at the smell of cigarettes, weed and beer she knew it was real and found herself falling asleep to thought of seeing Lip again tomorrow.