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yandereunsolved · 6 months

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You're My Cult Leader - ,, yandere Kai Anderson

tw(s): yandere themes, Kai fuckery, graphic gore, suggestive themes, Kai threatening to cross your boundaries, descriptive depictions of anxiety and panic attacks, self harm, (Kai) glorification of self harm, talks of mental hospitals & mental illness, demonization of medication & mental health (influenced by Kai), baby trapping

ꨄ︎ He found you by pure accident. He was scrolling through Reddit on r/AITA when he found your account. You were asking if breaking up with your partner after they had a mental breakdown and pushed you down the stairs made you a bad person or not. Interest sparked in his mind. If you were this insecure that you had to get validation from others when your ex was clearly in the wrong, you must be easy to manipulate. He wanted to see more of who and what you were, so he hacked your accounts. He didn't do anything more than scroll through him and store your information and passwords marked 'Serpent' on a file put on a hard drive he keeps of all his cult members. He keeps it just in case they try to betray him. They wouldn't dare go against him if they knew he had all of their skeletons locked in his closet.

ꨄ︎ He marks all of his files with the names of mythical animals. All cult members go under one large file named 'Serpent'. In his inner circle, he has another file named 'Sphinx'. As he learns more about you, he compiles an entirely separate file just for you. He names it 'Phoenix'—an immortal bird that cyclically regenerates, obtaining new life by rising from the ashes of its predecessor. He even begins referring to himself as Phoenix when around his other members. Of course you don't know him; you two haven't even had a conversation yet, but you are already part of his cult. It was just a matter of putting a few more things in place to have the perfect meeting.

ꨄ︎ What he didn't expect was to actually begin to form an attraction to you when he had his little 'excursions' with you, stalking you wherever you went. He resents this. You aren't worth his time and attention. He is the divine ruler, a being of divinity. You are just another lamb to be slaughtered within the confines of his cult. Yet he notices how wide your hips are, how good your medical history is, and how motherly you are. He stores it away in his mind. You'd be a good possible womb to store his messiah baby in. He does need the best genetics. It doesn't matter if you are afab or amab; you are having his baby.

ꨄ︎ He introduces himself to you after you had a shitty day at work. He invites you out to your favorite cafe. Huh, how did he know? He knows everything about you. Including what you do in the privacy of your bedroom when you think no one is looking. He speaks to you like an old friend or a lover. You two really seem to have a genuine connection. He's a smart guy, 135 IQ; he toured in Iraq; and he graduated with a double degree. Not to mention, when he stood up and stretched, you could see his muscular physique underneath his gray sweatshirt and joggers. Now you want to know more about him, see him more, and get the validation you crave because you have been starved by others. Just as he planned.

ꨄ︎ It's so strange that after that, the people you hated most started disappearing. It was all over the news. People started seeing you as bad luck. Some people thought you were just a serial killer who hadn't been caught yet. Others thought it was because of some twisted secret admirer of yours. They would both have reasons to think that. The bodies came up in parts. Each on the bed in their bedroom. They were cut into chunks and placed to make little hearts. First, there was nothing else. Then the killer got bolder with the weird smiley face drawn in blood. Eventually, the killer or killers had another collective sign off: 'From F.I.T.— your divine ruler.'

Not even the police would touch you. No one would. Only Kai was there for you in those trying times. He drove you deeper into his grasp. Not suffocating at first just so you wouldn't see it until it's too late—like a boa constrictor constricting around its sleeping prey.

ꨄ︎ He offered you a place to stay and promised to protect you from the evils of the world. He makes you as scared of the outside as possible. Think of all the horrors out there. Can you not see the killings all over the news? Can you not realize that the country is being flooded with dangerous people? Are you so unaware that someone could slit your throat if you so much as stepped outside the door? Kai is there to stoke your fears, like feeding an ever-growing flame by placing more wood in the pile. He makes you so paranoid that you aren't even sure if being around him is safe. He assures you being around him is the only safe place. He subtly threatens to take his protection away if you disobey him.

ꨄ︎ You don't interact with Winter. You actually aren't allowed to. Kai expressly forbids it because he's afraid his sister might make you queer. Sure, you are allowed to look at her and maybe make small talk if she is around you and Kai, but she isn't allowed alone with you—ever. Kai just can't risk it. He knows how tempting women can be, and he can't let his precious little lamb be tempted by his sister.

ꨄ︎ He begins integrating you into F.I.T. even though you are unaware. You don't exactly know what it's called, but everyone seems to treat you kindly. Not too kindly, though; Kai doesn't want your affections to be given to one of his ungrateful, pathetic followers. This is really the first touch of human interaction you have had in months, other than Kai, of course. It's like a new breath of fresh air. You may refuse to leave the house and Kai's side, but at least you have more people to talk to. It's like torture when Kai leaves you all alone. No one else is allowed around you, not that you know that. You only know that they seem to distance themselves almost purposefully, even methodically. It's like Kai is ripping your very heart out of your chest and taking it with him when he leaves.

ꨄ︎ Sometimes it's even worse when his 'friends' are around. He acts all aloof and distant with you. He calls you slut, whore, little one, and worst of all—sweetheart. Whenever he calls you sweetheart, you know you have messed up around the others. During their meetings, you are forced to sit in his lap. Most of the time, he forces you to straddle his waist. If you speak or even squeak, he'll scold you in front of everyone. You always end up having hickeys on you the day after. You always have some sort of hickey or bruise on you. He'll occasionally kiss you on the neck during these meetings. At first, you were uncomfortable. You tried to confront him about it, and he brushed you off.

"You like it, don't lie. You like all of the attention on you. You are my little slut after all."

You wanted to argue, but he had a way of making you speechless, so flustered that you became light-headed. After that, you didn't argue much on the subject.

He doesn't actually allow you to listen, either. He makes you wear these stupid ear plugs that make you feel so idiotic. You only know he scolds you because that's when he takes the earplugs out. He calls these meetings his 'private business'. You don't press him on it because he's already done so much for you. Someone out there is stalking you. Kai is keeping you safe. It's the least you can do to stay out of business; he doesn't want you in.

ꨄ︎ If you are good during these meetings, he rewards you with an outing. You have to stay by him the entire time. That is one of the unspoken rules of being with him. However, that's not really a problem for either of you. That's pretty much the only time that you are outside. He doesn't outright say it's a 'date', but that's what it is to him. You may not know it, but you two are practically married in his eyes. He just has to train you some more. You need to be entirely dependent on him—submissive, feminine, and motherly. That's all he wants. He has given you so much. He just needs to take a little from you. It isn't that big of a deal.

ꨄ︎ You first witnessed Kai's true cruelty when he stapled that poor man to death. You pinkie promised him that you would stay by his side. You pinkie promised that you wouldn't run. So you stood there and watched, and everyone took turns stapling him in the head. The blood gently dribbled down his face, almost peaceful—in complete contrast with the monstrous act being committed.

He made you kneel before him. He swiped a strip of the oozing blood off of the man's face. He stuck his finger in your mouth and made you lick it off. He asked if you were truly devoted to him as he planted the last staple in the back of the guy's neck. He asked again, his voice more alluring than any song a siren could sing.

"Are you completely and utterly devoted to me?"

You said yes. Why wouldn't you?

"Prove it."

He stood above you with the staple gun discarded on the floor. That night was a lot different than all the other times you 'proved' yourself to Kai. It was much more passionate and tender. You were unable to even move from your spot. It was like nothing else existed except you and Kai. It was addicting. You needed more of him, even more than before.

It was like that night he had cast a spell on you that stripped away any personality or ideals you had from your previous life. He had broken every part of you. You were now repurposed clay. You were made into a brand new clump for him to mold with his skilled and nimble fingers. You will be his greatest creation yet, for you are completely and utterly his—forever.

ꨄ︎ However, while molding, he's careful not to be too harsh with you. In a way, it's the gentlest and most honest part of Kai you will ever see. You see the moments when he has flashbacks to those times. You get to see when his shoulders heave due to the overwhelming anxiety he feels. You see the few tears that slip from his face. Part of him feels that you have earned this part of him. Another part wants to push those feelings so deep down into the darkness of his soul that they never have a chance of getting out.

ꨄ︎ You'll only see it in subtle ways. At night, he won't force you to snuggle with him, but he'll urge you to. He'll wrap his arms around you and gently whisper about how he'll protect you from all the bad things in this world. It's true on some level. All of this is truly for you. He just can't show his love like a normal man. One thing is for sure—he promises to never be a man like his father. He shakes when he thinks about him, his muscles tightening and his breath shortening. It makes him want to hold you in his embrace forever. To kiss you like it's the last thing he'll ever know. That small and hidden part of him craves your loving touch. That part just wants to be coddled and told he's a good boy. Just telling him you're proud of him is enough for him to drag you off to the bedroom.

ꨄ︎ He makes you pinkie promise. Naturally, you have to tell him everything first—your fears, your fantasies, and how much you love him. He finally speaks a bit of his past. It's the first time you see him breakdown. The first time he has a genuine emotional response. The mask slips only for a moment, but you're hesitant. You know, sometimes he manipulates you—maybe. That's what one of the others told you before they were killed. Still, it seems real, and it feels real. You can't imagine him telling anyone else such private things. He pulls you into a hug and rocks you back and forth. He sticks his face in the crook of your neck greedily. He treats you like you'll disappear with one blink of his eyes.

"You aren't ever allowed to leave me, darling."

He's gritting his teeth, and suddenly the Kai you know all too well is back. From time to time, you can't help but wonder: How much of old Kai influenced new Kai to be so helplessly entranced by your very presence?

ꨄ︎ No part of you is hidden from him. No part of your body is left unseen or explored. There is no part of your personality that he hasn't memorized. There isn't any memory that he hasn't plucked from your head already. If you remember anything, even the most mundane, you are under strict orders to allow the words to fall from your lips—no matter what you were doing before. There are no 'boundaries', in most cases. Kai is an asshole, but he isn't that much of an asshole. If you've been a good little lamb, then there's no need to bring up painful memories. He wouldn't want his obedient servant to be plagued with fear of others in their heart. However, act bratty, and he has no qualms of making himself a new set of memories for you to gain PTSD from.

ꨄ︎ The first time his hold on you loosened a bit is something you won't ever forget. You were looking for him when you heard moaning. Meadow had gone missing earlier, and you were worried. You found her partially tied up, and your heart broke in two. Kai looked back at you with no emotion in his eyes. He simply dismissed you with a 'get out'.

You were so horrified that you quickly packed up and ran from the house. You snatched a stack of emergency bills that Kai always kept under his mattress. You slept in some shitty motel for a few nights. You planned on escaping to another state and starting anew. If you could just get a phone, you could call someone. Yet your heart was torn in two. Those tendrils of fear were wrapped so tightly around your mind that you were paralyzed with indecision. You love him, but he was cheating on you. He was supposed to protect you from the world! You forgot the most important lesson—to protect yourself from him.

You had multiple panic attacks each day while hiding in that motel. You feared stepping out of the door. You just couldn't do it. The 'what if' was too much. You knew that, rationally, no one was going to jump out and kill you. Right? Right...? RIGHT? You couldn't even open the door. Your hand reached the knob, and yet you couldn't open it. You just sank to the floor and continuously sobbed. You couldn't stop the feeling of dread and weakness.

What was he going to do when he found you? That thought had your head spinning. Your legs just gave out then and there. It was the one question that ran through your mind like a never-ending track carrying the train of your anxious thoughts.

You had to get breakfast delivered to your room. You had to wear your clothes for multiple days. You didn't have any toiletries except the ones provided by the hotel. You were too paranoid to even take a shower. You needed Kai. You still needed him. You couldn't even breathe correctly without him!

ꨄ︎ You finally broke down. It was like he knew you would. You went to that campaign of his. You were barely able to step outside, but the promise of seeing him made you more than eager to leave. Once you spotted him, all your fears seemed to melt away. Then you saw Meadow shoot him. Your heart broke again—she fucks him, and then she shoots him? Who the hell does this woman think she is?

You saw her turning the gun on herself, but you beat her to it. Another woman was screaming at the both of you. She took the gun. You just kept hitting Meadow. You don't know what came over you. All the bitter jealousy and hatred from that night just came up. You let it all out on her. Eventually, you heard a snap. That same woman was screaming at you and pointing the gun at your head. You killed Meadow. You snapped her neck. You felt good, in control. A part of you even liked it.

You didn't get to mull over it because the cops arrested that woman and led you away. You rushed up to Kai, who was on a stretcher. The emergency medical responders tried to push you away. Kai grabbed your hand and pulled you down onto him. With his other arm, he dug his nails into the side of your head. He sloppily made out with you until you were pulled away.

"It was all for you, baby. Come and ride in the ambulance with me. You've been bad—and you'll atone for your sins once I get better."

Those are the words he whispered in your ear. Your mixed emotions led you to feel so much, but how could you refuse? A moth is always drawn to a flame, just like you are always drawn to Kai. Hopefully, you won't get burned again by his lies and deceit.

ꨄ︎ Once he is home from the hospital and recovering, he chastises you. He screams, pushes things, and threatens you. He can feel actual tears filling his eyes at the fact that you tried to leave him. How dare you.

"Can't you see you worthless slut!? This has all been for you. I had to get Meadow out of the way for you and for us. Yet you run off to some shitty motel and hide there? You are pathetic."

Wait, he knew about the motel? Of course he did. He just wanted to allow you to make your own choice. Sure, he was going to drag you back to him anyway, but you coming back somewhat willingly just proves the control he has over you. It feels so good to have you twisted around his finger.

ꨄ︎ He makes you cut yourself because of this. It's a punishment that he often uses. He wants you to feel what he feels when you disobey him. Sometimes he cuts you himself. He teases the burning wounds and touches them. He kisses each one of them and licks the oozing blood leaving your veins.

He sees it as just another way for him to claim you. He feels that possessive urge inside of him cool when he sees the scars you have given yourself because of him. He enjoys cutting extra deep into your skin to hear those pained whimpers escape your sweet lips. He gets even happier when you get self-conscious about them. 'No, baby, you are so beautiful with those scars.' It's just another way to control you. You have to live off that praise from him, affirming your self-harming behaviors.

ꨄ︎ It evolves into a ritual. When he gets really pent-up, he cuts you up and drinks your blood. He tells you that's the most divine thing he's ever tasted. He kisses you and makes you taste yourself. He'll swirl your own blood around in your mouth with his tongue. He'll barely allow you to breathe. It's like it restarts his mind. He's calm after. He feels like a blank slate.

He once did it in front of his cult. You were sitting in his lap. You could feel him growing more livid and tense. He pulled out a pocket knife and gently knicked the side of your neck. He licked and kissed the blood away. He promised to give some of your blood to his inner circle if they all proved themselves to him. No, they aren't going to be allowed to touch your skin. They may drink from a vial. You are dreading the day that it becomes a normal practice within the cult.

ꨄ︎ That isn't the only punishment you'll get if you severely misbehave. He isn't against locking you in the basement and chaining you up. He'll deprive you of food and water and will only give his body to you as sustenance. Later on, he builds a metal cage in the basement. He uses it both for torture and to shove you in there if you are disobeying him. The cage is much worse than being chained to a wall. If you get chained to the wall, at least he'll let you near him. If you get caged, then some random follower of his just comes down and throws whatever shitty rations in between the bars. Most of the time the food isn't even edible—mold and other infectious diseases are tainting it. The little bit of water you get is wasted when they throw it on you.

By the time you are let out, you are malnourished and touch starved. Kai always makes sure to give the most heavenly aftercare. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear and tells you that this didn't have to happen; all you had to do was behave. He gives you a bath with rose petals, and he gets out the fancy lotions, oils, and shit that he can't even pronounce. He makes sure that you have a fresh pair of clothes and the best meal one can dine on. He even took it slow with you that night. He is passionate and loving.

It's a side of him you rarely get to see...

ꨄ︎ Sometimes you want to act bratty just to see if you can get brown-haired Kai to come out and play again. It's a treacherous game. One wrong behavior, and you may end up kneeling before him, cutting yourself up for his entertainment once again. You can just do little things to manipulate him just a tiny bit. You are his well-trained bitch that occasionally loosens their collar and nips at their owner playfully. You have learned how to manipulate from the best, after all. Most of the time, Kai understands your angle, but rarely can he be tricked into misunderstanding your true intentions.

ꨄ︎ Accidentally getting hurt can be one way to possibly soften him up. Although you do have a half chance of just being called a clumsy bitch by him. If it is someone else, accidentally or not, hurting you, not even the deities from the highest of heavens can save that person. He'll either beat them to death in the moment or plan their slow torture and subsequent death in the cage downstairs. After taking care of the filth, you may see a little bit of brown-haired Kai. He'll take care of any cuts or bruises and kiss your temple. You may or may not have paid that asshole five bucks so they could push you on the pavement and threaten you. You were scared to death that Kai would realize what you were doing, but it was more than worth it.

That's just one way that you can manipulate him into letting brown-haired Kai come out and play.

ꨄ︎ Another one is if you cook for him. If you make him a good manwich, dressed up all pretty with an apron on, he is melting inside. He has this starstruck and dopey expression on his features. It's quickly replaced by indifference, but he is elated internally. If you bake, then all bets are off for cult leader Kai. He's oddly sweet when tasting your sweets because it allows him to regress back to a state of almost childlike innocence. It reminds him of when his mom would bake things with him and teach him to bond with him. His father always thought it was making Kai soft and a sissy, but he refrained from making those comments most of the time.

When you bake those sweets, it's like a positive trigger for him. He'll take a bite and wrap you up in his arms. He'll gently pepper kisses on your face and compliment your skills. A little bit more of brown-haired Kai comes out. He almost seems shy, nervous, and unconfident. Kai doesn't even realize he is acting like this. He just feels safe, like he is home.

ꨄ︎ He puts tracking chips in all of your things after your first attempt to leave him. Anything and everything has some sort of chip in it. He secretly enjoys hand-sowing the chips into all of your clothes and undergarments. It feels so oddly intimate to him. It's just another way to claim you as his. It makes him feel all giddy inside. All the chips are waterproof and extremely durable. He has access codes to all of them and can connect to them through any device he has. If you try to escape one too many times, he will chip you on your inner thigh. That way, he can casually rub his hand over your plush thigh and press his thumb right over where he implanted the tracking chip. It's his favorite way of reminding you that you have no way out—no possible escape from his binding grasp.

ꨄ︎ It doesn't stop there, no. He puts cameras everywhere. Some are in hidden places; others are not. He enjoys just flipping through the cameras on his phone while listening to some idiotic citizen complain about something miniscule for the thousandth time. You were wearing his clothing, just sitting in your shared bed and watching your comfort show. You were enjoying yourself with that innocently lewd expression adorning your now placid features. You just seemed like such a cute house spouse. He may have to excuse himself and go take care of a problem. What? You're just being so good for him. It makes him swell with pride.

ꨄ︎ If you are good enough, then he may allow you the privilege of having internet access. Of course, he is monitoring it. When he is in a good mood, he will act like he is your sugar daddy. Which he technically is, because he pays for everything and you are physically incapable of stopping him. Your wishlist is his. He keeps a list in your file about the types of gifts you like.

You may just occasionally be surprised with the same exact thing that you had favorited awhile ago. You know it's always Kai doing it because he always buys some lacy or risqué for you to wear. He gifts you; you gift him with your body. Lingerie is just human wrapping paper, after all. He enjoys the present under the wrapping the best.

He also scrolls through the media you watch. Any political content has a parental lock on it. It has to be approved by him before he allows you to watch it. If there is something intriguing that you decided to watch when you thought you had privacy, Kai may just barge in and ask if you'd like to recreate it.

ꨄ︎ If you get a period... Kai will track it. He will always make sure you have the right period products, foods, and medication. No, nuh uh—he swears he isn't doing it because he just genuinely cares and doesn't want to see you in pain he didn't cause. He's doing it because he can't have the future parent of his messiah baby harming their womb. It wouldn't be responsible if the divine ruler didn't treat your fertility with the respect it deserves.

You're probably a lot luckier if you are able to get a period. He's a lot more lenient with you. He'll allow you to have mood swings and crying fits. He'll let you eat all the chocolate and sweets you want, as long as you eat the balanced meals he provides. He'll treat you like a god(dess) during that time. When no one is around of course. He completely focuses on your happiness and pleasure during that time.

ꨄ︎ When he gets arrested, you have another panic attack. You had finally settled into a comfortable routine with him. You had succumbed to Stolkhome syndrome. You were just content with it. Your anxiety and fears were still higher than ever, but Kai protected you from all the bad things. Now, the bad men want to take him away from you? You get interviewed many times. You refuse to speak. They call you a victim of his manipulation. They see your scars, and after a doctor gives you a physical examination, they conclude that Kai is an absolute monster. They had to give you anesthesia for the physical examination. It was the only time you talked with any of the police or detectives. It was more like shouting than talking. You thrashed, twisted, and turned to escape them.

In this way, it just proved that Kai was right. They said you were brainwashed by him. No, you weren't. Kai saw the truth in the corrupt institutions. They violated your boundaries for no good reason. Kai violated your boundaries, but for good reasons. You deserved it when he crossed them.

ꨄ︎ They declared you mentally unwell and put you in a mental hospital. You went willingly only because you wanted to be away from the scary people. You only got newer and scarier people. They made you strip, and you had to be constantly watched. It made you yearn for Kai's safety and control.

You lied to get out of it. You said that you were scared to cooperate at first. You weren't brainwashed by him. You were only acting like it because you feared him. They believed you, and within a month, you were out of there. They put you on anxiety and anti-depressants. They urged you to also get a therapist to work through your trauma.

ꨄ︎ You disregarded them. You didn't need therapy! You didn't need some bullshit medication! That's what Kai always said. The medication and psychologists were just there to warp your mind. They aren't there to help you. They are there to make you conform into what society believes is 'mentally well'. You just have a little problem. It's all just fake. Kai would tell you if you had problems. He helps you out. He keeps you safe. He'll tell you what to do.

ꨄ︎ You helped him escape prison. Naturally, it was hard to get in to visit him because some of the guards had heard whispers of what Kai had done to you. With a little bribe, you managed to secure a monitored conversation with him. He threatened the guard, and suddenly your conversation wasn't monitored anymore. Kai was so unbelievably proud of you. He was so proud of how loyal you are. He rewarded you for such a good job. He remarked you with hickeys and bruises, so people know who you belong to once again. He possessively rubbed circles into your inner thigh over your tracking chip. You wouldn't let the bad men take it out, and because of a lot of red tape, they legally couldn't do it without your consent. It just made him ready for another round. How did he get so lucky to have a person like you who loves him so dearly? A lot of abuse, manipulation, and Stockholm syndrome.

ꨄ︎ As you sit on his lap in one of the visitation rooms, he formulates a plan with you. Soon enough, you are dressed in a guard's uniform and stressed out of your mind. You were barely able to help him escape. Your hands were shaking the entire time. You must have taken over half of the bottle of that stupid anxiety medication just to get through it. You were a little out of it and threw most of the pills up after.

Kai had to punish you for taking medication you weren't allowed to. He just worries about you, okay? They almost got his little lamb. He couldn't have your personality numbed by any 'medication'.

ꨄ︎ It all climaxes when he confronts Ally while she is running for senator. It was all such a blur. One moment they were arguing, and the next Beverly tried to kill Kai. You managed to tackle her and wrestle the gun out of her hands before she shot him. You got shot instead, in the gut. The next few months are extremely hazy for you. You kept going in and out of a coma. When you awoke, a lot had changed in Kai's world, but you remained ever-present.

ꨄ︎ You learned that Winter was gone. You didn't feel much. You didn't get to learn the details of it. It could have been way before you were even aware. Kai always kept you out of the loop about those things. He said it was to protect your pretty little head. You listened to him. You'd always listen to your divine ruler. Kai managed to slander Ally and turn everyone's opinion around. Suddenly, Ally was the one who had abused you and fed you all these lies about Kai. She was arrested and sentenced to death. Beverly met a worse fate. She was brutally mutilated in the same way that your, you forget, you had a stalker once—didn't you? You can't exactly remember.

You know Kai had a hand in it. He always has a hand in everything.

You learned that he truly was a cult leader. Your memories were so repressed and damaged that you were unable to connect the dots. You were overjoyed that Kai won the senatorial seat. He was heading towards the presidential seat next. With that, he had you married. A ring on your finger, forever. A divine ruler did need his spouse. It is crucial.

ꨄ︎ He made sure that you recovered and were right by his side while campaigning. He had a book ghost written for you about how evil Ally Mayfair-Richards was and how a vile feminist cult twisted your mind. Most of it was just sugar-coated lies. Kai's abuses were in there, but they were all said to just be minute things that Ally spun into a defaming web of lies.

He campaigned with you and made sure that all of your clothing was appropriate. He only let you show your scars when it would win him polling points. He still wanted the cutting to be just a you and him thing. He didn't need the press to see the fresher scars and cuts and run a slander campaign against him.

His possessiveness did occasionally overpower his need to dominate the world. He would always keep a hand on your waist, have at least one eye on you, and scare anyone off that tried to get too close to you.

ꨄ︎ It climaxed when he realized he needed to push family values. So he announced your pregnancy during an interview on some right-wing news platforms. You were understandably confused. You aren't pregnant. Kai plans on fixing that. All day and night, he is trying to fill your womb. He is so desperately making it so you will have his heir. Part of it is just publicity. Another wants his messiah baby really badly. He needs to baby trap you so you don't ever leave him. He needs to ultimately mark you as his. What better way than a child? The miniscule brown-haired part of him just wants to be a better father than his own. He just wants to be a better husband for you than his father ever was. He wants to make his mama proud, wherever she is in the afterlife. You wouldn't deny him this, would you? You've already given him so much. Just a little more, and he'll be satisfied. To think this all started with your silly little Reddit post.

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⟿ taglist: @coentinim @bluerthanvelvet444 @cxndiedvi0lets @doll3tt33 @lacucarachapisser @etheral-moon @fear-is-truth @slutforgarlogan @newwavesylviaplath @fuckedbykai @violet1737 @marchsfreakshow

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gotylocks · 1 year

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Willow Month 2023: Day 2- Favorite Relationship

If you read my day 1 entry, this will be similarly unsurprising. Obviously Kit and Jade are my favorite relationship on the show. From the first moment Jade flicked her eyes down to Kit's lips, I knew I was going to ship them regardless if it was canon or not.

Thankfully, I didn't have to wait long to have my feelings confirmed by the show itself. I adored how their relationship was built. The foundation of inseparable best friends ("For Kit and only Kit", "I can't do this without you") gives way effortlessly to the clear, overwhelming, yet buried love and desire they have for each other.

One of the most fascinating things about them is while most stories (especially mainstream) will build both romantic and sexual tension in a queer relationships by keeping them apart. Willow really said "What if the tension comes from them kissing immediately and then not being able to unpack that till way later?" It makes their every interaction have this hidden weight to it, whether they're just joking around around the rest of the crew (almost trying to pretend they're "just good friends" so nobody suspects anything, which Boorman clocked day 1) or they're having an argument as if having that tension bottled up is rippling and causing easy discussions to be fights (specifically thinking about the Wildwood).

For Kit's brashness and bad attitude with everyone else, when it comes to Jade, she acts so differently. Where she holds grudges a lot, Jade admitting she had been lying to her about training results in Kit pouting, sure, but in the immediate aftermath of the Battle of the Slaughtered Lamb it's like she has already processed it. Instead, she is in full "Comfort Jade" mode, which continues into Nockmaar.

Jade's statement "Who protects Kit? I do." in the finale hits me so hard because it doesn't come off as Kit is a damsel always needed to be saved. Instead, it has the feeling of "She is my partner and we need each other. We keep each other safe. We look out for each other." When they're separated, they're capable, but they're better together. They're better together because they push each other to be better after the training lie is revealed. There are so many moments where they deal with the exact baggage they need to in order to be in a romantic relationship together.

This can be individual baggage like Kit's anxiety about her connection to Bavmorda or Jade's discovery of her heritage; or it can be shared baggage like learning Kit's dad killed Jade's. At each step, they go through these huge moments that could have massive ramifications in their lives, they deal with them, and they look at each other like "As long as we're together, we can get through anything."

I also think about how at no point does Kit lash out at Jade for pulling her away from her father, as all of that anger is directed at Elora (despite Jade being the one that physically restrained and removed her from the Tomb). This ties back into that feeling that they protect each other. She doesn't blame Jade because she's her partner, she had no choice but to protect her, whereas Elora had no responsibility to save her, which also is a big moment that sets up their connection later (but that's another essay).

The trust Jade shows Kit at the end of episode 7 ("I think you're going to make that decision on your own") hits me so hard because it is this clear feeling of growth on both their parts. It's Jade taking her hands off the wheel and making it more of an equal partnership between them, where up to now, she's often had to be the voice of reason to rein in Kit's poor decision making.

"When you love someone, and they need you, yes, you jump off the edge of the world to go and get them."

I've made the joke that Kit and Jade made me believe in love again, but it's true. Their connection, support, friendship, deep attraction, and overwhelming love for each other felt so vivid, so real, so beautiful, there are painfully few relationships that live in my heart and mind like Kit and Jade.

Oh and they had the two most intimate and beautiful kiss scenes I've seen in ages, if not ever.

#willowmonth2023 #willow 2022 #kit tanthalos #jade claymore #tanthamore #kit x jade #ruby cruz #erin kellyman

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cannibalovers · 5 months

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Hannibal song of the day: song no. 13

a bit about the song:

"The Lovers" (2017) is a song by Nine Inch Nails, appearing in the EP "Add Violence". It was written by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross, two members of the group. It has a very anxious, almost threatening, but calming sound to it due to the amount of reverb, deep electronic bass, Trent's muffled vocals, and the instrumental which features a sound manipulator, "Luminist Garden", which is supposed to sound like finger-tapping to connote anxiety, inherent in addiciton. It fits alternative genres like alternative electronic rock and experimental. The lyrics of the song began as a poem by Trent, exploring the “inevitability of addiction and seduction” and a possible path his life could have taken if he didn't end up recovering from his drug addiction. The title can also tie to tarot, the 6th card in the major arcana being "The Lovers" - this card represents love, but also two oppositional forces coming together, in balance, as well as in a more personal light, becoming whole as an individual, coming to terms with ones flaws, strenghts, beliefs and accepting one's self. Overall, the songs meaning is about seduction and succumbing to what one shouldn't succumb to, feeling contempt and complete - whatever that may be.

i've never realised just how vulnerable and dark this song is, it took me a while to appreciate its beauty

i've had this song in my playlist since the beginning, not thinking that much of it until i finished the show, especially after the wrath of the lamb. looking back at the lyrics it reminds me of Will SO much its insane. the succumbing and the serenity the protagonist feels, GOD. in my eyes it describes Will's thoughts perfectly.

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Verse 1

"I can hear you breathing I’ve slipped out of time again Leaving all of you behind And I’m free"

The protagonist is losing himself, succumbing to the drug. He is losing his sense of timeas it can often be with substances, leaving everything behind - most likely the reality, people who care for him and normality as he feels enlightened. He even personifies the drug or perhaps the feeling he's experiencing, as he can feel it breathing, growing. It all feels so empowering, yet disturbing.

The opening lines summarise what I personally believe went through Will's head as he layed his head on Hannibal's chest SO well. He can feel him breathing, they're finally so close, all the boundaries have been crossed, it feels so surreal. He left everything behind, his perfectly crafted life, his wife and kid, something he cared for so much, his life as a criminal profiler, everything before that, leaving all of his whole old life behind - He doesn't care anymore and has never felt more alive and free before this.

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"To return to the place where I already am And have always been If I just really looked and allowed myself To see"

The protagonist realises that he has been repressing and ignoring what he now believes is his true purpose, he now believes that this state and feeling are what he was born for, what he was made for. He feels like he's on the "right path" once again.

Will has also been repressing and ignoring. He recognizes his ferocious nature and didn't want to accept it - Yet Hannibal did everything he could to drive him to it, to kill, do what he was made for. They caused so much destruction together around themselves. That's why he separated himself from Hannibal in the first place - they were perfect and the worst for each other simultaneously.

But season 3, the longing for Hannibal has never left him, it only was easier to ignore now that Hannibal was out of the picture - but just one visit, just one look was all it took to change his mind, exactly what Will was afraid of when coming back. He has returned and started to regret leaving, again. He knew that his true purpose was with Hannibal and that he wanted to be with him, he has always been there, longing for it. He couldn't ignore it again. Finally, murdering Dolarhyde together with Hannibal has made him see it and accept it, finally allowing himself to see what Hannibal was trying to show him all these years. No hiding anymore.

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"The confusion is seducing me warm perfect flowing Wide his eyes Summer Hypnotize they see inside of me Hot swollen skin want me take me perfect embrace Black and bloody Rotten and perfect The center has moved on and all that’s left is free Finally Finally Everyone seems to be asleep but me"

These lines are supposed to represent the setting of the song itself - New Orleans, hot summer, the protagonist describing his current state; eyes blown, hypnotised, seen, accepted, sick, rotten. So horrible yet perfect, it felt so right. A paradox. The "everyone seem to be asleep but me" line is also a reoccuring imagery in the "Not The Actual Events" EP and the rest of the "Add Violence" EP, with "I can't seem to wake up" lyrics in "Not Anymore". The repeating theme in my eyes talks about the blindness and subconsciously ignoring a feeling, maybe even an intuition, a bewildered state of mind. The protagonist seems to go between feeling like they are alive and the only one seeing the reality amongst all the blinded people and like they can't wake up, realising something is wrong but cannot pinpoint what is it. Here, they feel on top of the world, like they have gone through an awakening and are the only ones to realise just how free they can be and now, are. The center could refer to stability and morals, now moving on, lost and thrown away.

This summarises the show perfectly, especially Will's side as he now realises and accepts how beautiful this all is, monstrous, sickening, but so very beautiful. A paradox that he is finally willing to accept as it is and relish. The confusion he feels, comforting instead of frightening now,

This sounds like Will's point of view of the whole thing so accurately it drives me INSANE. The confusion he feels, unusually comforting instead of frightening. Catching Hannibal's eyes, so hypnotising and warm as he tries to hold himself up and stagger to him, Hannibal's touch burning his skin so delectably. Finally, he achieved content. The feeling he has been longing to experience for his whole life.

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Chorus

"Take me Into the arms of the lovers Free Take me Into the arms of the lovers"

the progatonist is finally accepting what he now sees as something that cares for him, accepts him for who he is and makes him feel satisfied and at peace, an equivalent of a lover. The embrace representing acceptance and the two opposite forces coming together, back to the possible interpretation from the tarot card "The Lovers".

just Will wanting to cuddle and hug, cmon. but also indeed the embrace both showed his acceptance of Hannibal and himself, as well as accepting how safe and accepted Hannibal made him feel, how content he feels now that he has accepted his nature thanks to Hannibal.

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Verse 2

"Oh I see you floating there How could I ever hope to forget Always rearranging, this is Those words are a lie a mirror reflecting in a mirror of a lie A light shines still always Shadows in every wordBeneath black eaves Please don’t leave me here I could stop it Maybe I could stop it (if I wanted to)But I’m not the one driving anymore I know who I am But I know who I am Right?(Please don't leave me here with them)"

The last verse is very desperate, again admitting to ignoring their past, trying to grow and move away from the addiction but not being able to. Everything felt like a lie, but the truth always comes out - the protagonist loses control to what has been tempting him, realising it yet still trying to convince himself that he is himself, he is his own he let this happen because he wanted it to. The protagonist seems to be constatly on the hunt for connection, anything, anywhere where he won't feel alone. Maybe that's why they succumbed.

For Will, this reminds me of the lingering effect that Hannibal had on him. How could he ever forget what Hannibal did to him, how he changed him? Even he himself said that his life splits into two chapters; "Before you, and after you". Hannibal always haunted him and he couldn't escape him - not like Hannibal would let him. He always found a way to get to Will. But now, Will accepts it, even wants it. He realises just how lonely and dreadful life was without Hannibal, even if he chose to walk away. After all, how do you recover from cutting off someone who has made you feel so accepted and known?

Hannibal's manipulations and acts to try and win Will's heart has made Will feel at a loss of control, constantly messing with Will's sense of identity in season 1, making him question who he is. He tried to regain control, what he made sense of, at least - leaving Hannibal, striving to achieve the normalicy and perfection that he always wanted as he thought that that's what would make him happy and normal, cure whatever he has been longing for, thinking it was just loneliness and a need for someone caring - but Hannibal showed him what it was exactly that he was missing - acceptance and understanding, even of his darkest and most flawed parts. This feeling and realisation he could never forget. He longed and longed, hoping that he could regain this kind of connection he has with Hannibal with someone else, but to no use. He was the only person that he couldn't hide himself from and be fully seen. I think in wrath of the lamb he finally accepted that, and after that, he would never want Hannibal to leave his side or to leave Hannibal, no matter how lost and confused he feels around him. Before the fight with Dolarhyde, Will says that he doesn't think he can save himself anymore, and that might be just fine. Instead of questioning the right and wrong once again, he listens lets Hannibal lead, show him what he wanted to show all along to him instead of stopping him like he did before. Finally accepting what everyone else would see as his "downfall".

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these two make me insane and unwell and this song combined with with them and me being unable to fucking express my views and thoughts cohesively drives me even more insane.

anyway thank u, hope u enjoyed<3

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additional notes:

the pun in the last sentence of v2 was actually not intended i didn't realise that LMAOOOO

ffs i reedited this for like 50 minutes straight and tumblr went oopsies smth went wrong couldnt save. i left it in drafts for a few says thinking maybe i will find motivation and will to reedit it but all i feel is irritability and the urge to delete the post so yall getting the unchecked version sorry WHY ARE U SO DIFFICULT TUMBLR

my playlist post

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bebbie-bilinski · 1 year

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Stiles Stilinksi age regression headcannons

go easy on me this is my first HC post 😅

ᴀɢᴇ ʀᴀɴɢᴇ

Stiles mainly regresses around the ages of 0-2 so his regression is geared towards the baby side. A lot of it consists of speech-loss, whines and hums, pointing for what he wants, using basic ASL, clumsy-ness, naps, and lots of cuddling.

ᴡʜᴏ ᴋɴᴏᴡꜱ?

Stiles is very secretive about his regression, at first the only person that knew about it was his dad Noah, but that was only because of how persistent the man was on finding out what exactly his son was guarding so closely. Then there’s Derek, who eventually becomes one of his primary caregivers. Derek seemed to take the “news” of his regression the hardest, not because he couldn’t accept it but because he had some serious cleaning up to do with his act (Slamming Stiles’ head onto the steering wheel of his jeep for shenanigans, tossing him around, being at the butt end of so many of Derek’s award winning death-glares, he had a lot of making up to do). Of course, where there’s Derek there’s Peter. He looves to tease about his regression at every given chance but is a very protective caregiver when need be. Then there’s Scott who’s always known even before he couldn’t place his best friend’s odd behavior with the term “age regression". He may be the worst babysitter ever for always giving in to ice-cream for breakfast… and lunch… and dinner, but he really means well! Lydia! Stiles was mortified when Lydia found out and avoided her at all costs but eventually got cornered and lectured on “why on Earth would he hide something like this from her when she’s fully capable of taking on whatever role he needed?!”. The rest of the pack learns about Stiles’ regression but initially its Noah, Derek, Peter, Scott, and Lydia.

ᴡʜʏ ʜᴇ ᴅᴏᴇꜱ ɪᴛ

He mainly regresses due to trauma and a not-so-happy childhood. Although, he also uses it to cope with acute anxiety disorders and autism (yup he’s also got autism to me which I can make a separate post about and go much more in depth). Getting possessed by a thousands year old demon sure is a catalyst for wanting to throw on one of his dad’s old t-shirts, making a nest of blankets/toys and curling up on the couch while watching an old comfort cartoon.

ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɢᴇᴀʀ ʜᴇ ʜᴀꜱ

Baby pacifiers - He has one adult pacifier but the guy adores the tiny baby ones

Onesies - Not a huge fan of how constricting they can be so he only has two or three

Fuzzy socks - Ohmygod his sock drawer is overflowing with an array of the softest and fuzziest socks he can find at the nearest Target

Stuffed animals - Need I say more? He’s got a couple jellycats (a wolf and a horse), two build a bears he frankenstein-ed and stitched together named Puppy-Bear (can you tell what animals they we’re respectively?), a Pound Puppy, a huge elephant named Jattestor from Ikea, Clarice (a six legged lamb by HoneyLambs seriously check them out they make the coolest stuffed animals), a plethora of Eeyores and a plethora of Furskin’s Bears as well as other customized stuffed animals (no I totally didn’t make this list off of my own stuffed animals, ur lucky I didn’t write them all down)

Pjs - Seriously I think he has a pajama-hoarding problem because at this point he collects any remotely cute and sensory friendly pajama set he lays eyes on

Bottle - his literal favorite piece of regression gear. Nothing fancy, just a small clear blue baby bottle he bought at the clearance section of whatever grocery store he was at

Miscellaneous- building blocks, counter bears, calico critters, jumbo crayons (cus the regular ones are just too small for his taste!), coloring books, stickers (So. Many. Stickers.), night lights, baby utensils, rattles and teethers, pacifier case, and a basket-full of stim toys

i'll be making more headcannon posts but expect them all to be stiles-centric ^^ and thank u @jjtheresidentbaby for all ur support/motivation :D

#fandom agere #teen wolf agere #teen wolf age regression #age regressor stiles stilinksi #fandom age regression #sfw agere blog #sfw age regression blog

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tacky-jack-with-a-hat · 11 months

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☠️ gimmi Oklahoma my boy

He has a full grown sheep in his house.

Oklahoma owns a farm and one time he had to bottle feed this lamb because the mother had twins and sometimes when that happens the mother can't produce enough milk for both of the babies and will reject one.

This lamb had separation anxiety so Oklahoma gave it extra attention and cuddled up to it when it was crying. Every time Oklahoma tried to walk away the lamb would start bleating as if he were his mother.

When Texas made an Insta account for his pygmy goat, to one up him Oklahoma made one for sheep when he was a lamb. The account is still active despite the lamb outgrowing his baby phase.

One time when the lamb was sick, Oklahoma's truck broke down and he had to walk the lamb to the vets (at this point the lamb was too heavy to carry) and had to use a dog harness. The lamb threw a tantrum and began rolling on the floor and pulling on the leash.

During a harsh winter, Oklahoma took the lamb into the house where it snuggled next to him by the fireplace. That night Oklahoma made the decision to allow the lamb into the house whenever it wanted to.

However, lambs get big fast and they are considered sheep after 12months. If you have never seen a sheep before then you should know, depending on the breed, sheep are bigger than you think. It's mostly wool but most states who visit Oklahoma's ranch don't know that- they just see a lion sized cloud chewing his curtains.

#most of these stories (except the insta one) are things I personally witnessed #I was the one walking that lamb to the vet #her sister also needed one but she didn't cause a fuss about it #one time I had to look after these 3 orphan lambs and they all ran to me after they got spooked by a pigeon bc they'd never seen one before #wttt #welcome to the table

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neonsix67 · 1 year

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My lamb!! (This pic has already been posted by @spotlightstudios per my request because I thought I wouldn't get around to actually posting about it, but here I am so awe well)

My little thing ♡

Physical concept explanation -

-> As always, I live to add a tail to everything I can but I mainly did it here because it helps me understand how to be more expressive with this specific creature, because I'm not the most comfortable with drawing animals.

->I mainly used the Tarot fleece for this because that the fleece I main-ed, but I did just unlock one of the second round of fleeces so idk...that may be subject to change but I really do like the design of that one for the Lamb.

->Can't really see it, but this Lamb has some heavy eyebags. Earned through extreme devotion and hard work, the stress of managing 24 idiots 27/7 has its weight over time, and never being able to sleep, eat, or die has some more...visible side effects.

I didn't change a thing with Narinders' design, at least not his Bishop design. I expect something a bit more...indulgent when I get to his defeated follower form.

But now a quick question (not really heavily ruling on answers but I am a little curious) but I have this idea for another Lamb OC/self-insert. Adding her would mean the existence of another Lamb with this version of the story, and I would likely pair it up with the other Lamb, or should I keep the Lamb of this one as the last and just make this other one a separate story? So the question is-

My version of the lore under break

Okay so I am running very heavily on a family dynamic here. Spot can advocate... but the whole idea is that Narinder kinda adopted this thing and it was SO gosh dang grateful that it worked, lived, and breathed for him. It wasn't long that Lamb starting viewing Narinder as a sort of father figure, never having one for itself since lambs were hunted down to extintion. Lamb would use every death as an opportunity to see Narinder and tell him about the Cult, or the most recent crusade, or just what sort of people Lamb has been meeting, anything to keep his attention.

The first time Lamb called him "Dad" was a slip up, quick and accidental, but Lamb never really apologised, and seeing that Narinder didn't really get mad at the title, Lamb just kinda kept calling him Dad, and eventually even gets cute with it and calls him Papa Nari (this is a reflection to me playing the game...but I met him one time and was like...yeah that's Papa Nari, no one can tell me otherwise). Eventually Lamb hangs around enough during that little bit of time that it takes for it to be resurrected it begins to talk to Aym and Baal as well, who both, seeing that their Master favors this one, oblige to conversate with. It wasn't much longer after that that Lamb began to really view the two as older siblings, playing knucklebones or sharing cult dynamics like a sort of gossip with the two.

As time progresses and the Cult grows, so does the family dynamic, and the Lamb is viewed as Papa Nari's golden child, which doesn't really bother anyone other than Narinders siblings, who catch on that this Lamb is successfully a killer by nature and is learning to be loved by The One Who Waits. Slowly, as they each fall to its blade, does it really sink in that this mission may succeed in the Fifth Bishops' favour. Well, that doesn't quite sit right with Lamb... what will happen when they complete Papa Naris' mission? Don't get it wrong...it WILL complete what was asked, but Lamb has this nagging fear and anxiety that this happy afterlife, this second chance at a real family, will be stripped when they kill all the bishops and provide with Narinder the freedom he so deserves.

So far, that's all I care to type out for now, but boy has this been lingering on my mind for the past couple of days.

Oh and quickly back to the idea of a second Lamb! Spot! Know that this doesn't stop me from crossing our headcannons together. In my mind, your Lamb still exists somewhere out there and just ticks off Papa Nari by not doing anything killing wise. It does not like it one bit but doesn't mind it enough seeing as it makes Papa more proud of it when it continues with the mission.

#neon!drawn #colt fanart #neon!headcannons #cult of the lamb #this has been a weight on my shoulders for a while #and i am so happy to get it all out #i aslo have a sort of oc with all of this #but she is not going to mentioned for a while #because thats a problem for another time #anywhk #this post is already long enough #so imma head out and draw some more concept doodles #i really wanna get aym and baal out on paper and into this style im using for cotl #which byw i have no idea hoq i managed those sketches above #it was like i was possesed #it all just came so naturally

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fetabathwater · 8 months

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Alone midnight and skin for ms lamby lamb my lov <33

prompts here!

alone: How does your OC deal with loneliness? Have they ever been completely alone before? How do they act when there’s no one around to see them?

Loneliness to Jennifer is like an itch. It's not enough to call it a phantom limb, even though that has increased exponentially since the vote, but loneliness as a child was her purposely standing in the middle of the house and screaming until someone came running. It was the outbursts in class and the clawing for attention, only to rebuff it as she hit her teens and thought she was above it all. Loneliness crawls all over her brain and down her spine and it eats away at her, because Jen never really had her parents, and her grandmother passed, and her grandfather sits in his chair or in the garden, just waiting away each day. Her other half is gone, through actions of her own too, and yeah, Jen can stand in a room and feel the separation, because she doesn't want to go through the motions again. Noise isn't enough to scare the loneliness away, when no one else has her in their eyesight. Lights are on, tv blaring, music playing, and Jen's fingers do itch to start taking something a bit heavier to ease it all away.

midnight: What keeps your OC up at night? Do they have nightmares? Fears? Anxieties? What do they do in the small hours of the morning when they should be sleeping?

Thinking and re-thinking and replaying the fight. In her mind, she's got variations of the vote running, sometimes hard enough that she convinces herself that is real. Her phone keeps her up, hovering over Seven's number, and no matter how many times she throws it to the other side of the room, she still gets out of bed, picks it up, rinse and repeat. Jen's nightmares about no longer being palatable. About never being enough. All the sites say their voices work better apart, but Jen sees how expendable she is, because what if she stops appealing? What if the band doesn't need her anymore? Kicking out a singer never stopped anyone before, historically. Those small hours of the morning are the worst, when she's on her phone and the independent journal sites and the odd vid dedicated to breaking down what happened. Jen tells herself if she doesn't stay on top of this, then the worst will happen - but she also knows that's bullshit.

skin: How comfortable is your OC in their skin? Do they grapple with anything that lives inside them—a beast, a curse, a failure, a monster? How do they face the smallest, weakest, most horrible version of themself? Are they able to acknowledge it at all?

Jennifer stands in front of the mirror and feels like she's a marionette and the one pulling her own strings. The curse she bears is the word 'palatable'. It was an offhand comment, a reason for her to stay lead, but something in the way she was already so broken after the vote ate that word up, as if it was glue to keep her together. Palatable. Easy to digest, pleasant, constant. Just as easy to replace for something better. Jen dyes her hair and brushes her teeth, does her makeup and puts on the clothes but she doesn't recognise herself, really. She should cover the tattoo, remove it, burn it off, anything, to sell the image that the band wants. They can't have someone who is walking a very fine line, right? What would that say? She's still stamped, even though that ended swiftly, all those years ago. Reinvented herself into the star that would appeal; Jen digs her nails into the skin around the tattoo. Half-moons, as if she might be able to take it off herself, because having it still there means that Jennifer Lamb, duet partner, carried by her former everything, still exists - and she can't face that any time soon.

(and when she saw that Seven still had her initials, her carefully constructed everything ached, as if who she was might still be alive, and not this version of herself she's trying so hard to be)

#uldren-sov #replies #oc: jennifer lamb #OH OKAY LEMME JUST FUCK LAMBY UP EVEN MORE HEY???#KJHDFKJSHFKSDFHKSD #im so sorry baby girl i swear it'll be alright soon

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lightyourpyre · 2 years

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Headcanons for Jounouchi; I would’ve moved the entire post back here but there are some things I'm retconning from his time on Redeyeschaosdragon and more extensively his time on Bannerofstarlight. Because there is a lot that I'm changing and some things I'm keeping the same; which will be under the cut bc its a lot.

Jou is a former Gang leader and took over after he lead a coup against Hirotani. Before he met Yugi and after he met Tristan. He was nicknamed Two Hands for the fact he could duel wield pistols. Of which he does keep two pistols on his person, as well as three separate pocket knives all concealed but you will be able to feel them if he’s carrying you.

He still has trouble trusting people and is more than likely to go with his gut feeling rather than other people’s. There are some he’s more willing to trust than others due to their personalities or their relationship to him. But he will act as if he trusts those he in reality doesn’t. Rather he’s keeping a close eye on them.

Has PTSD, Depression, anxiety and possibly survivors guilt though all are undiagnosed by a professional.

Has a fear of the ocean, fire, tasers, lightning, thunderstorms, being chained up, being left behind, letting people down, becoming like his father and Hirotani.... Hirotani is a big fear he still has too. Katsuya’s gotten worse at hiding them from people over the years, especially if you’re super close to him.

He is skilled in hand to hand, pistols and pocket knives but absolutely sucks at smooth talk. He is hard to sneak up on but it’s doable if you’re quiet enough or his guard is dropped substantially around you.

He’s still a car mechanic, he loves working on them when not dueling.

Hates pepperspray with a passion, would sooner suggest giving someone a taser than pepperspray.

Knife collection is huge and covers the walls of his spare bedroom.

Has frequent nightmares and panic attacks.

He has depression but it never keeps him down because he’s just stubborn. It doesn’t always work, but he moves forward for the ones he loves and that’s enough.

Jou does indeed have a sense of preservation though he finds that being “okay” with the idea of being sent somewhere or killed sometimes spooks the other person into dropping their guard and/or the subject.

Is a hardcore mother hen

He flocks to lonely people unknowingly because he knows what it's like to be lonely and he loved it when Tristan came to his rescue. So he does it to other people even when told to leave them alone.

He 100% does not think highly of himself because he’s done things that are far irredeemable. He hides it well behind his mask, but sometimes it cracks and it spills out whether he wants it to or not. More often than not you’ll find him biting back comments and beating his depression back with a stick.

Jounouchi has done things he’s not proud of and still does things he’s not proud of. But he figures having his hands bloodied means that another innocent can keep theirs clean.

He’s a self sacrificer, both subconsciously and consciously. He wouldn’t take his own life by any means, but he does disregard his own safety if he sees a way to save someone that might get himself injured or killed. He’s used to being the sacrificial lamb, so even when he isn’t one... He treats himself like one.

That being said, he sometimes doesn’t realize that he’s being heartless. Something deemed unacceptable to a normal person doesn’t register as wrong in his own eyes. Especially if it has to do with violence, although even that has some exceptions. He may be heartless but he isn’t that heartless.

Social cues go right over his head. If it isn’t fighting, car maintenance or it isn’t gang related, he’s a bit stunted. He only learned so much from Yugi and things that he did didn’t stick very well. He’s trying though!

More on his ocean fear;

Jou and the ocean don’t mix. He’s nearly drowned twice and it’s one of the closest experiences with death he’s had. Minus turf wars that got really bad really quick and Ra/coma/shadow realm.

He can swim, pools and water in general he’s absolutely fine with. It’s when you get salt and the open ocean into the picture that he has an actual problem.

He has nightmares frequently about being under the surface with the exodia cards floating just above him. Yugi coming in to save him but too far away. Or it’s the dream where he saves yugi and leaves himself to drown, vaguely seeing Serenity’s outline coming to save him.

He’s afraid of drowning, not being able to get air. Adrenaline kicking through his veins without an escape or a way to pry himself free. In Jou’s mind the ocean is a trap. He is afraid of that which he can’t control, the ocean is one of them.

Jou would absolutely be that person to sit on the beach and watch his friends have a great time. Because while he loves his friends. Nope. All of the nope.

#~.. wait this is almost all of it minus the hybrid stuff I tried to throw in when I got desperate~#~hahahaa hoops~#~So somebody please keep me the hell out of San Quentin; Katsuya Jounouchi~

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ditzyclown · 2 months

Note

Anyway

Do you have an AU?

-alz

With how long it has been at the oven it's gonna get crispy but kind of??? My lamb spared Narinder and all and I'm thinking about just being my lamb's path to ascension while dealing with excessive separation anxiety due to their whole race being x-x

Narinder is slightly afraid of the lamb (they see him while he sleeps)

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outercrasis · 3 years

Text

Love Bites

Pairing: Monster!Max x F!Reader (Lamb)

Word count / Rating: 9k (it's a big boy I know) / EXPLICIT 18+ ONLY

Warnings: Monsterfucking, a handful of angst (some hurt/comfort vibes in here), unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), one (1) pussy slap, real switch behavior, blood kink, size kink (please let me know if I missed something!)

Summary: A visit to Max's office goes wrong - but maybe it helps to make things go right.

A/N: Shoutout to @sergeantbannerbarnes who's ask is what set me down this path and to @radiowallet who's ask just snuck its little way right in here 💕 and a shoutout to @escapades-to-rivendell who read this big boy over for me, ily all sm. Alsooo - there might be a special surprise at the very end of this chapter ;)

Series Masterlist

Your anxiety mounts with every additional floor. The cheery milquetoast corporate music does nothing to help, your hands growing clammy as you near the 13th floor. There's a chance this is a terrible idea. Max has never said anything about visiting him at work before and you worry you’re crossing some unspoken line by showing up unannounced like this. Then again, the surprise treat of blood you have carefully disguised in a regular coffee cup might be able to sway him otherwise.

It feels a little silly being this nervous. You’ve never been this nervous when it comes to Max – it’s just that work is usually something he tries to keep separate from you. Ever since what you like to call The Great Rebecca Debacle, things are kept relatively simple. He gives a general overview of how his day went, how stressful things are, the usual daily complaint about the mysterious and very hated Evan. Otherwise specific details aren’t discussed. Even the work dinners you’ve joined him for have been more social networking than business related.

All things considered, this has the potential to be a bad choice.

Alternatively, this could be the best choice you’ve ever made and result in hot office sex. Possibly with the addition of horns if Max is feeling extra risky. Only time will tell. You’re definitely hoping for the latter.

The elevator finally stops moving, a happy ding! announcing your arrival on Max’s floor. Stepping out you find yourself… disappointed. With Max’s eclectic but beautifully designed apartment, you expected something similar with his offices. In your mind it had been immaculately decorated, large, open floor plan, like something ripped from the set of a trashy unrealistic show off The CW. This is anything but. In fact, it’s even worse than your own offices. At least you have enough natural sunlight for a plant at your desk.

The walls are a dingy gray, the carpet looking like it hasn’t been replaced since the nineties. Cubicles more depressing than your own can be seen through the door of the small lobby, which has a strange smell you hope to never discover the origin of. There’s a shockingly bright piece of corporate art across from the receptionist’s desk, which you feel might have been placed there in a terrible attempt to make the place seem cheery. It only serves to set your teeth on edge. You’re half convinced this isn’t Max’s office at all.

“Hi, can I help you?” The receptionist calls over to you. She must have noticed your confused expression at walking into an office straight out of a trashy horror flick.

“Um, yeah, I’m here to see Max Phillips?” If your hands weren’t full you would have crossed your fingers, praying that she says Max is another floor up or something.

Your dreams are immediately crushed. She perks right up at his name. “Oh! Do you want me to call him up here for you?” Her hand is poised over the phone, waiting for your answer.

“No, no, that’s okay. I was actually hoping to surprise him, if you could just point me in the direction of his office?” You’re really hoping there isn’t some protocol that requires him to come up here. It will still be a surprise but then you wouldn’t get to see that cute little look on his face when he realizes you’ve done something nice for him.

The receptionist points at the door leading further into the offices. “Go through there, turn right, and his office will be at the very end of the hall. You can’t miss it.”

You really wish she would blink. With her plastered-on smile, chipper attitude, and perfectly lacquered nails it feels like you’re talking with a robot rather than a person. Her hand finally drops when you take a hesitant step towards the door. “Thank you,” you uncertainly offer.

“No problem!”

Stepping into the office space is no better. You make a note in the back of your mind to message Sami and let him know how much worse things could be than your few inches too small cubes. The mysterious smell from the lobby thankfully dissipates, only to be replaced by the high pitched hum of fluorescent lighting. With every passing moment you understand why Max prefers working from home rather than in this little hellhole. Maybe you can convince him to come home with you at the end of this visit.

You only make it halfway down the hallway before someone feels compelled to stop you. And touch your shoulder. Gross.

“Excuse me? Can I help you?”

Turning around you come face to face with someone you never expected to see again. Evan Sanders. The last time you saw him you were both pimple faced middle schoolers but there’s no mistaking him. He hasn’t changed all that much really, losing the aforementioned pimples as well as his braces but for some mystifying reason keeping the same hairstyle. You suppose it works for a business setting, but between that and his ill-fitted suit he could do better.

He seems to recognize you as well, squinting slightly before saying your name with a bit of disbelief. You don’t really want to talk to him, but you figure for the sake of social niceties you should. Max probably wouldn’t but then again he’s a vampire and people call him an asshole so that’s probably not the right course of action here. Lame.

“Hi Evan. Long time no see,” you greet.

“Yeah no kidding, how are you? What are you up to these days?”

“Not much, just trying to get by.” It would probably be polite to ask that question in return, but the answer is kind of obvious. He works here in this weird, dark dungeon of an office space.

This is already tiring. You didn’t come here to reconnect with a middle school acquaintance. You came here to be a good girlfriend and potentially live out a little fantasy of yours. No shame in that. Max certainly doesn’t have any when he asks you to dress up in ridiculous slutty little outfits – not that you’re complaining about that either. You’re still waiting for him to pull out the Megara costume. You know he has it and he’s talked about how much he likes her attitude too much recently for it not to make an appearance sometime soon. You wonder if he’ll go for a Hercules or Hades look to match it.

Evan is saying something and you know you should be listening but you’re already so bored. If you remember right the last time you saw him you kicked him in the shins. The specific reason why escapes you now, but you’re starting to remember. This is just so weird. You haven’t seen each other since you were thirteen and now he’s going to pretend like the two of you had been good friends? You just want to deliver Max his “coffee” and kisses, not be involved in whatever this is.

Evan assumes that stance men do when they’re getting ready to settle into a long conversation – legs slightly spread, arms folded casually over his chest. Maybe he’ll mindlessly follow if you continue to take slow steps down the hallway.

You finally tune back into what he’s saying. “So what are you doing here? I wasn’t aware we had any open positions.”

He’s eyeing you carefully now, as though he’s trying to catch you in some sort of a lie. You want to laugh. If you had come here for an interview you would have peeked out the elevator and taken the long trip back down to the lobby. After seeing if they would validate your parking – the prices they charge are practically theft.

“I’m not here to interview, just here to give my boyfriend a surprise visit.” Evan does not get the hint that you’d like to get on with that surprise. You wish you could kick him like you did in middle school again.

“That’s nice of you. Who’s your boyfriend?”

Maybe Evan’s job here is office inquisitor. It feels like it with the game of twenty questions you’ve suddenly embarked on with him. Who even holds a conversation like this? Clearly when one person is barely reciprocating it’s time to end it and move on with your days.

“Max Phillips.”

You can’t say you anticipated the way that answer would twist Evan’s face up. He looks like he just put three warheads in his mouth on a dare only to feel his cheek skin immediately peeling away. That endeavor wasn’t worth the five bucks you made off of it.

Evan’s hand is suddenly on your arm, tugging you to the relative not-privacy along the wall of the hallway.

“You need to break up with him.”

“Excuse me?”

Evan looks around the office, trying to see if anyone is listening in. He lowers his voice, leaning in towards you as he speaks. “He’s not- he’s not a good person.”

You roll your eyes. You know Max has a bit of a reputation but this is ridiculous. Despite his attitude with others, which is admittedly a work in progress, he’s treated you better than any other guy you’ve ever dated. He’s attentive, caring, and he sets your heart on fire with just the smallest of glances. You would have to be insane to give any of that up.

“I know Max isn’t everyone’s favorite, but that’s horrible to say,” you snap at him.

Evan casts another nervous look over his shoulder. “No, what I mean is- he’s not- he isn’t human.”

It’s impossible to hide your shock. He knows. Evan knows about Max and he’s apparently very willing to spill that secret. Thankfully he interprets your shock as you not knowing in the first place.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but you need to know. You have to break up with him before he tries to eat you or something worse.”

You don’t get a chance to respond, not even a funny quip about how you like when he eats you or to ask one of the thousands of questions you have, as Max’s voice is suddenly filling the office air.

“Hey slugger, you finish those reports… yet?”

Max trails off once he registers that it’s you standing there with Evan and not another coworker. His eyes flash red as he takes in the scene before him and that finally triggers your own realization. Evan, this Evan, is The Evan that Max bitches about day in and day out. Whatever you just stepped in is decidedly not good.

The already long moment continues to linger and you decide to cut the tension. “Surprise!”

A smile slips onto Max's face but it's flimsy. To anyone else it might be convincing, but you know the difference between his real and fake smiles and this is the most put upon one you've ever seen. "Babe, what are you doing here?" he asks you.

"My office randomly closed for the day, so I thought I'd surprise you. I brought you some coffee."

You know Max knows it's not coffee. He can most certainly smell the AB- you squirted into the cup like you were emptying a macabre Capri-Sun. What you don't need is for Evan to know it's not coffee. Despite his apparent knowledge of Max's non-human status it seems like an unnecessary added stressor right now.

"You didn't have to do that, babe." Oh you hate this. Between the fake smile and the seeming condescension you are horribly reminded of one of your exes. It’s an incredibly unflattering comparison. The worst part is you're nearly certain this whole persona has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the long lost schoolmate currently standing between you and Max.

"So what are you two chatting about?" Max asks with a syrupy cheer, carefully eyeing you both over the rim of his cup.

"Just doing a little catching up," Evan unhelpfully explains. Of course he has to offer a terrible, ambiguous answer. It seems purposeful too, a little smirk playing at the corners of his mouth while Max's nostrils flare.

You cut in before he can do more damage. "We went to middle school together. Honestly I forgot Evan existed before I saw him here," you say with a forced laugh.

Was that a bitchy thing to say? Yes, of course. Do you feel bad about it? Not in the slightest. It isn’t even a lie. Max and Evan's beef is between them, not you, and his attempt to use you against your own boyfriend warrants retaliation anyway. You know Sami will agree when you tell him about this later and that's all you need to justify it.

Despite your clear barb at Evan, Max's demeanor doesn't change. He doesn't even offer a glance in your direction as you move to stand beside him. In all your time with Max you've never felt more ignored – his hatred for the other man overshadowing everything else.

“You know Max, given your condition, I’m surprised you’re capable of having a girlfriend,” Evan says. The subtext comes across loud and clear. Another day, another time, you’d be jumping to his defense but Evan knowing still has you so off kilter that words fail you completely.

“Mine is more manageable than yours,” Max replies. “How’s the free Phallisite sample working out?”

Evan’s face turns a bright red. It’s not hard to guess what Phallisite is for and regardless of whether or not his use of it is true, the comment has gotten under his skin.

Now you remember why you kicked him – you had been making good on the promise of giving him something to cry about when he wouldn’t stop whining about how unfair the kickball teams were. Not the time to dwell on it though.

“When are you going to stop pretending, Max?”

Max gives a short little laugh, rolling his eyes. “Pretending about what?”

Honestly at this point, you’re surprised you haven’t seen heads peeking from behind the cubicles. You know you would be if there was a heated conversation like this one occurring only a few steps away from your desk. Either arguments like these are a common enough occurrence that no one is entertained by them anymore, or this office is filled with workers who are better than you.

“Pretending like you’re normal somehow. It’s pathetic and now you’re dragging other people into it to make yourself feel better?” he asks, staring pointedly at you. “Even I didn’t think you were that much of a monster.”

Max’s eyes turn a murderous red and it’s all you can do to drag him away before Evan becomes confetti on the walls. It might not be a bad attempt at lightening up the interior design though.

Especially when taking into consideration the homicidal near-miss, you are incredibly curious as to how Evan even knows. In all of Max’s time spent complaining about Evan you just assumed it was because he was annoying and a shit worker. Seeing it before you now, it’s obvious this runs deeper.

Were they friends before? Something else? Had Evan discovered Max’s secret through a series of ridiculous coincidences and scenarios only ever before experienced on a witty sitcom? You can’t really bet on which of those could be true.

You tug Max back towards the lobby, his eyes fading back into his human appearing chocolate brown. He seems to return to his senses with the distance and moves you into the lobby.

“Are you okay?” you ask. His human visage is firmly in place again, but you can still see the anger thrumming under the surface.

Max ignores you completely. He walks over to the front desk, grabs a slip and scribbles something on it before pressing it and the coffee cup full of blood you handed him previously into your hands, and pushing you into the now open elevator.

“Max, what the hell? You can’t just ignore this and push me out of here,” you whisper furiously at him, not wanting the receptionist to overhear.

He gives you a quick kiss on the forehead and steps backwards into the lobby. “Sorry, lamb. Talk later.”

The doors close, the corporate music fires back up, and you’re left with a coffee, not-coffee, and parking validation ticket in hand wondering what the fuck just happened.

You’re pacing in the living room, waiting for Max to get home from work. He’s at the office even later than normal and you swear if he’s staying there just to avoid this conversation with you, you’ll ring his immortal neck. This is not something that will get swept under the rug. This will be talked about, at length, until you are satisfied with its conclusion.

Your resolve doesn’t mean you’re looking forward to the conversation. In fact, every cell in your body is screaming to let it go. Max could come home, you could pretend there’s no issue to be dealt with, and do your best to move on. You know where that leads though – the same place it has before.

Mounting irritation. Repressed anger. Distrust. Animosity. The next problem will come along and continue to pile until you’re a year into a relationship with a person that you can hardly stand to be around. Arguments will escalate and suddenly you’re breaking up over an empty Pringles can that’s emblematic of a thousand other larger issues. The Pringles can is simply the easy one to blame it all on in the end.

This entire situation is scaring the shit out of you, but you refuse to let that happen with Max.

You finally hear the click of the door opening a few minutes after 7. Sounds of Max toeing off his shoes, hanging up his coat, and setting down his bag drift out from the hallway, freezing you in place. There’s only so much power stances and motivational pep talks can do to help you now.

Max walks into view after what feels like an eternity, his horns and wings already out on display, He’s left in his slacks and tank top undershirt, dress shirt already removed to avoid being shredded by his transformation. You don’t miss the way his wings look like they’re slung lower than usual.

He stops short, clearly not expecting you to be standing in the middle of his living room and quietly staring at him. Doing his best to recover from the awkward moment, he flashes you one of his big businessman smiles. You’ve seen it work on a variety of people, but you’re incredibly annoyed that he would attempt it on you. Just who does he think you are? Who he is? You aren’t going to fall for cheap Max is uncomfortable tricks.

“Are we going to talk about it?” you ask. You cringe a little internally. That already came off more aggressive than you wanted it to.

“Talk about what?” Max asks, making his way into the kitchen. You trail after him, stopping at the entrance and leaning against the breakfast bar. His back is turned to you, rooting around in the fridge and his wings rustle uncomfortably, a clear and obvious sign that he knows exactly what you’re talking about.

You aren’t going to have this conversation with him turned around. “Max, please look at me,” you try to say gently.

He huffs, face still buried in the fridge. “Look lamb, could we not? This merger at work is putting me under a lot of pressure and I don’t want to talk about this on top of it.”

"No."

Max's spine straightens at your answer, slowly turning to face you. "What?"

You're not sure you've ever denied Max anything, not that he's ever denied you anything either. So far your relationship has been a series of understandings and trade-offs, always making things even between the two of you. A hard no hasn’t been in either of your vocabularies up until now.

He’s pinning you in place with his eyes, the slow moving gold swirl of them becoming firm and solid. You refuse to back down. “You heard me. I said no. We’re talking about this, Max.”

This is already not the direction you’d hoped this conversation would go. Emotions were going to run high no matter what, but you imagined that the two of you could be mature about this. The discussion didn’t have to become an angry one. Then again, you didn’t expect Max to try and avoid it entirely.

“Fine then. Let’s talk,” Max says, crossing his arms over his chest.

You move back into the living room, hoping that the more comfortable setting might put you both at ease. Max follows and sinks into the single armchair. Okay, this will be a distanced conversation then. You sit at the edge of the couch, as close to him as you can get without plopping down on the floor.

You both wait for the other to speak first.

“Well?” Max prompts, an irritated look on his face. He isn’t even looking at you – pointlessly picking at the velveteen fabric on the arm of the chair.

He’s clearly not going to offer any information unless you ask directly. Summoning the courage you’ve been trying to collect since leaving Max’s office this afternoon you blurt out the question that’s been weighing heaviest on your mind. "Why didn't you tell me Evan knows?"

"Because you didn't need to know," Max replies coolly. This bullshit attitude paired with his shitty half answer is really starting to piss you off.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"What it sounds like. You didn't need to know so I didn't tell you."

"Felt like I needed to know when he blindsided me today,” you spit back at him.

He finally looks you in the eye again. “Look lamb, there are a handful of people who know outside of you. I’m sorry if you thought you were super extra special or something, but I did have a life before you entered it.”

That comment digs in deep. He knew it would. While The Great Rebecca Debacle had taught you Max doesn’t go around revealing himself to people willy-nilly, you assumed there would be some others outside of yourself who knew. Past lovers, possible friends, family if he has any remaining. You don’t know for certain because Max never talks about it, but you assume they exist. It doesn’t make his comment sting any less.

“How would I know?” you find yourself saying. “You hardly ever talk about your past, only little hints here or there. For fucks sake, I don’t even know how old you are, Max. How am I supposed to handle randomly finding out someone else knows? Someone you seemingly hate.”

“I don’t know, but it seemed to me like you agreed with my dear buddy Evan today so why don’t you just do us both the favor and tell me what you really think. Then you can stop pretending.”

In a flash, the argument twists in a way you never saw coming. Where the hell did that come from? Throwing Evan’s words at you rather than finding some of his own. Another cheap shot.

“Pretending?” you say with utter disdain, jumping up from the couch. “Tell me at what point I have ever pretended with you. I told you what I thought of you the very first night we were together and that has never changed. If you really think I agree with Evan then you need a bigger reality check than I thought.”

“Reality check?” Max roars, joining you on his feet. “If anyone needs a reality check it’s you, little lamb.” He says your nickname like it’s a threat, twisting the relatively innocent joke into a harsh reminder. It makes your stomach twist, but even with tensions running high you still don’t believe he would ever hurt you.

“Is that so?” you challenge. You know what you entered into with him. Things like squirting blood into a cup make the situation hard to ignore even if you wanted to. If this wasn’t something you wanted, you would have backed out long ago.

“Fine,” Max says, and starts stripping off the clothes he’s still wearing. To say you have no idea what’s happening is an understatement.

“Max? What are you-?”

He cuts you off. “Showing you the reality of your situation.”

He’s left in his boxers, allowing himself to transform completely, only he doesn’t stop where he normally would. He continues to grow, his body filling out beyond his typically broad but athletic build. He gains more than his usual few inches, now pushing upwards of 6’6 as his body adds mass from seemingly out of nowhere. He softens in places, the new physique matching that of a powerlifter. He towers over you in size and mass, and the transformation hasn’t even ended.

A pink tint begins to glow across his skin, which you first mistake for embarrassment until you realize it isn’t stopping either. It darkens, reddening across his entire body, wings included. The tips of them blacken, mimicking the way the colors fade up from the base of his horns.

You notice that those have grown as well. They extend from the position you’ve seen previously, growing backwards towards his pointed ears before twisting forwards again, reminding you of a smaller ram’s horns. The color gradient continues beyond the previous red they’ve ended at, orange and yellow now finishing off the smooth, colorful progression.

Freckles rise to the surface, dotting his skin with darker pigmentation. They dust the back of his hands, the tops of his shoulders, and run down the center of his torso – dipping below the straining waistband of his boxers. You want to reach out, connect the speckles with the tip of your finger, but something stops you. Two somethings actually.

The first is that Max has begun to glow. Everywhere the freckles are on his body, the red tone of his skin fades, blooming into a warm yellow as incandescent light begins to emanate from within. The tips of his horns shine as well, casting a perverse halo of sorts around Max's head.

The second realization comes as a result of the first. There is something else glowing as well, something which you have never seen before. A tail. An honest-to-god tail.

The very end of it is glowing, the shape at the end of it looking like a sickle or a waxing crescent moon. The glow blends back down into red, which turns black once again towards the base of his tail. The length of it has ridges that run along the circumference, reminiscent of the ridges along Max's horns.

It's a lot to take in. Your stunned silence triggers something in Max as well, a dawning realization falling across his face. You're fairly certain he never intended on revealing himself to you like this.

There's a fainter glow along his cheek bones, the gold of his eyes seeming brighter than before. You're nearly certain that is embarrassment making itself known.

You approach him more hesitantly than you ever have before. It's not from a place of fear, but rather concern, worried that if you approach him too quickly he might panic and run or even transform back. Reaching out, you take one of his hands in yours, noting that his fingers glow too.

As though you haven’t been given enough to process, Max's hand is not cold as you've come to expect. He's warm. You have no idea if it's a result of the light radiating from his skin or some other reason, but you bask in it, relishing in the heat.

"Can I-" you hesitate, free hand poised over his chest and looking up to meet his eyes. You can see the apprehension swirling in them. "Can I touch?" you ask.

Words fail Max. It’s almost funny to see. He’s usually so full of quips and smartass comments you expected to hear something along the lines of you already are. His mouth opens and closes almost comically, fangs poking out from behind his lips. He nods his head instead.

You let your fingers glide across his skin. It feels the same as it did before, the only major difference being the temperature. The glow does seem to have some effect, hotter where the yellow is brighter and colder where the red takes back over.

You gently press your fingers into the new plushness of his body. It’s a feeling you already know you won’t tire of. His muscles haven’t gone anywhere, just underneath the additional heft, and you can’t help but imagine the way it will feel to dig your fingers into his chest while you ride him or the added weight you’ll feel as he’s on top of you.

“You’re even prettier than I thought,” you tell him, looking up to catch a storm of emotions passing over his face. You wish you could know what’s happening in his head.

He sinks back into the armchair, barely fitting in it now, and pushes a hand into his hair. “Why don’t you get it?” he asks, sounding defeated.

“Get what?” you ask in return.

He’s hunched over, elbows resting on his knees. There’s genuine anguish on his face now, a pain you’ve never seen before. “I’m a monster.”

You immediately move to comfort him. “Oh, Max-”

“No,” he growls, cutting you off. “Evan was right. I’ve been pretending. I spent months lying to you about how I really look all in an attempt to seem slightly more normal. I let you believe a lie just to feel better about myself.”

Fear grips you, a worry that somehow this has all been some great ruse by Max. Some sort of attempt at a self-confidence boost that’s crashing down around him and now you.

“That wasn’t all this was, right?” You’re afraid to hear the answer. By the way Max is acting, there's really no guessing where this conversation is going.

Max’s eyes widen, pulling you into his lap. His large arms circle around you and hold you firmly in place. “No. No lamb,” he reassures. “I changed the way I looked, but my feelings for you have always been real."

You press your forehead against his, wrapping your arm around to play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck. It's silent for a long moment, Max warring with his own thoughts and you trying to sort out your own.

You could be mad at him. He's right that he has been lying to you for months now and yet looking at him now you can't find it in you. You've never seen him like this. It's as though every ounce of confidence has oozed out from him and despite his hulking size he's never appeared smaller.

The anger you'd felt at being cast aside and literally pushed out from the office dissipates. The pieces click together, explaining the behavior without Max ever saying a word. It still isn't really excusable, but that can be a conversation for another time. Right now you need to discuss something far more important.

You speak softly, looking him directly in the eye. From this distance you have to focus on one or else go cross eyed and you're not sure what you have to say will have the same impact if you do that. "Max, you know I want you right?"

"Yeah lamb, I know," he says dismissively.

You pull back, holding his face in both your hands, and forcing him to look at you. He needs to hear this.

"Max. I want you and everything that comes with that. If I wanted someone else then I'd be with them. I don't care if tomorrow I wake up and you're purple."

That seems to break through, the tiniest smile playing at the corners of Max's lips. "Some days I look a little more orange than red."

"You're not a monster, Max. Well, I mean, you are, but you know what I mean."

Max gives a tiny snort at that.

"I don't give a shit what Evan Sanders has to say. He was the kid who reminded teachers about homework assignments. You think I'm going to listen to that guy? He doesn't know anything about our relationship. He didn't even think I knew. I do though and I wouldn't want you any other way. I love you, Max."

You didn't expect to say those last words. They slipped out without a second thought, shocking you almost as much as they seem to shock him. He's searching your face, looking for something. Whatever it is, you don’t think he finds it. A smile finally breaks out across Max's face, his fangs further emphasizing the curl of his lips.

"You really mean that, don't you?" Max asks.

Your answer is automatic. "I do."

Max pulls you into him, his lips slotting over yours. He’s mindful of his fangs, careful not to poke you with one. You wouldn’t really care if he did.

He’s still grinning when he pulls back from the kiss, the gold of his irises shimmering like those water bottles full of glitter that kids make. “Good. I love you too.”

Your heart leaps at his confession. There hadn’t been enough time between your own and the kiss that followed to worry about him not repeating it back to you, and you’re glad he’s already rectified it. You’re sure you would have driven yourself crazy if left to wonder.

You shift your position, coming as close as you can to straddling him in the chair. The size he’s grown to forces you to shove your thighs around his waist rather than bracket his legs. It’s hardly something to complain about though, pressing your body closer to his and making it easier to grind against him. You can feel Max hardening underneath you – christ, is he bigger there too?

Max’s tongue presses into your mouth, distracting you from further thoughts about the other possible changes to his physique. His hands are everywhere – sliding under your shirt, squeezing at your thighs and waist, encouraging the roll of your hips. You tug at his hair and just like that Max is carrying you in his arms bridal style, marching straight over to the bedroom. You giggle and busy yourself with biting and sucking at his neck, in part to see what color he might bruise. You’re guessing a deep red to match his many freckles.

In a move that reminds you of your first night together, when Max had tried to keep even his wings a secret, he tosses you down onto the large mattress. He covers you with his broad, thick frame, his wings creating a little bubble around the two of you. You love when he does this. It lights up your brain in a way even you have a hard time understanding, everything in your line of vision becoming Max and nothing else.

Your hands find his shoulders and you can’t resist giving them a squeeze as he recaptures your lips. Soft golden yellow spills between your fingers. The newfound softness of his body is intoxicating, making you want to grope and explore every inch of him. You’re glad he already stripped down as much as he did, not wanting the barrier of clothes between you.

Max must feel similarly. He’s grabbing at both your shirt and pants, trying to get both off at the same time and failing spectacularly at both. His urgency makes you laugh, taking over the task of your shirt for him. Your bra comes off along with it and Max eagerly takes a nipple into his mouth. You moan at the feeling, still adjusting to heat coming off of him instead of the usual chill. It feels heavenly, but it’s not enough.

“Max, please.”

You push your hips up, desperate for any kind of friction. It’s completely useless. Max’s large frame keeps you pinned in place underneath him. He releases your nipple with a pop, lust coloring his features. No matter the form he’s in, that’s a look you can recognize. His cheeks glow slightly brighter than before.

“Say it again.”

You shift your hips again, pushing up against the softness of his stomach. “I love you.”

“I’m never going to get tired of hearing you say that.” Max lifts himself up, pulling your panties off as he slowly kisses his way down your body. You have no idea why he even left the panties on when he took off your pants. As though he didn't know this was exactly where things were heading.

He lightly bites at your skin, never breaking it, making your skin erupt with goosebumps. You haven’t actually brought up that particular want with him yet and you’ve previously gotten away with blaming it on the chill of his body, but there’s no denying it now. It’s arousal, cut and dry. Well not dry, but the reason for your reaction is obvious. Despite not saying anything, the curve of his mouth against you tells you he noticed too.

He gives the same attention to your inner thighs. There are sure to be marks left behind for you to appreciate tomorrow. Max’s hand comes up to cup your pussy and you shamelessly grind against him. There’s hardly any relief though because the moment you do, Max gives your pussy a small slap.

“Don’t worry little lamb,” Max says as you cry out. “I’m going to take care of you.”

His mouth stays attached to your thigh while one thick finger slips up the seam of your pussy. He gathers the slick at your entrance and drags it up to your clit, making you whine at the stimulation. It takes all of your will to keep yourself still as he slowly circles it, occasionally moving back down to your entrance, but never quite pushing his fingers all the way in.

After what feels like forever, Max finally moves away from your thighs. “You’re doing so well,” he compliments. He spreads you open with his fingers, staring at you before lowering his head. “Need you all nice and ready for me.”

He only offers kitten licks at first, making you mewl with frustration. You’re not sure how much more of this you can take. Max isn’t usually one to tease. He doesn’t like making you wait for pleasure – all too happy to see how quickly and many times he can make you come. You’re about to ask him what he’s waiting for when his tongue plunges into you.

No matter how many times he does this, you’re not sure you’ll ever get used to it. The length of his tongue reaches in deep, teasing you and hitting nerve endings you didn’t even know existed.

Glancing down you find Max's eyes are closed in pleasure, looking as though there is no where he would rather be than buried between your legs. His nose bumps against your clit, causing a fresh wave of arousal to wet his chin. He groans and pulls you down further onto his mouth. There’s another jolt of pleasure as you realize his tail is flicking behind him happily too.

You can feel your orgasm rapidly approaching, squeezing your own eyes shut as he continues. Reaching down blindly, you fist one hand into his hair, while the other traces the curve of his horn. His newer, larger horns are something you can definitely get used to.

One of Max’s hands moves upward to grab at your breast and the added stimulation finally triggers your orgasm. Your legs shake with the force of it, shuddering as his tongue slips out of you. He continues to work you through it, his finger tracing a small amount of pressure over your clit.

“M-Max, come here, please,” you gasp. He listens, crawling up the bed to lay out beside you. You immediately grab onto him, throwing a leg over his hip and messily kissing him. You can taste the tang of yourself on his lips and groan into the kiss. “Need you, handsome,” you pant into his mouth, toeing at his underwear to get the point across.

Max captures your wrists, easily twisting your bodies on the bed and pinning you in place. You’re convinced he’s going to start teasing you again. There’s no way you can take any more of that, needing to feel him now and not in ten minutes when he decides you’re ready.

Max speaks before you can voice your complaints. “There’s something I need to tell you first, lamb.”

That sobers you up some. Max sounds nervous to share whatever is on his mind. You nod, letting him know that you’re ready to listen to him and not in some far off haze of arousal. He releases your arms and drags a hand over his face.

“I’ve never um- well it’s a bit hard to explain so I guess I’ll just-” he cuts himself off and tips your head up to look at him. It isn’t difficult to guess what he’s nervous about. The glow along his torso is brighter than before, your eyes following it down the soft slope of his stomach, and through the stretched out black fabric of his boxer briefs you can see that the glow does not suddenly cut off at his hips.

After staring for probably a few seconds too long, you look up to see his cheeks blazing yellow. He’s embarrassed alright.

“You- you glow? There?” It’s about as delicate as you can be given the situation.

“Yes,” he admits. “I can- I can change back if you’d prefer. I’d understand.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you threaten. Did he not listen to you at all earlier? You want him. Glowing penis and all apparently.

“Lay down,” you tell him. Max looks surprised but doesn’t question you. He knows that tone in your voice. It’s your shut the fuck up and listen to me voice, that’s reserved for situations like this one where Max (or others) has said one dumb thing too many.

You don’t go right for it. He needs to be comfortable and relaxed before you tear his boxer briefs off from him. You’re still aching to feel him pressed inside you, but that can wait for the moment. Instead, you rip a page directly out of Max’s book.

You straddle his waist, leaning down to press kisses against every available inch of him. Given how large his transformation has made him, there's a lot of real estate to be had. Sticking true to your own proclivities, you’re unable to resist Max’s horns. They’re simply too tempting in their new form and you plant a hand beside Max’s head on the mattress, giving you the support needed to touch and kiss down the length of them.

The way Max is moaning and squirming beneath you emboldens you to try something you’ve thought plenty about but have yet to dare try. You flatten your tongue along his horn, following the curve as far as you can. Max shudders underneath you. “F-f-fuck.”

You smile and whisper in his ear. “You like that, pretty boy?”

You don’t wait for his answer, repeating the action on the other one. What you assume was going to be his answer distorts into a groan and spurs you onward. You alternate between kisses and licks and when you’re satisfied with how worked up he’s gotten you stop. His hands tighten on your thighs, clearly not pleased with your choice. You echo his words from earlier back at him. “Don’t worry. I’m going to take care of you.”

You slide down his body, noting the way his glow has only brightened. A feeling of pride settles into your chest, knowing that you’ve caused him to feel that way. You randomly mouth along his torso, placing a long line along his waistband before slipping your fingers underneath.

Continuing to tease him crosses your mind, but given his nerves you figure it’s better to rip the band-aid off, so to speak. You look up at Max and he nods, letting you know he’s okay with continuing.

Freed of the confines of the tight boxer briefs, his cock bobs proudly up towards his belly. You had been correct earlier in thinking that he was bigger, and the glow of his body does now include his cock, but the most exciting change is one you didn't expect. He's ribbed – resembling the ridges around his tail. You can't believe he'd been nervous about this. The glowing aspect was certainly unique, but they literally make condoms and toys to mimic what he naturally has. So dramatic, you think to yourself.

If Max needed to breathe, you imagine he would be holding his breath. You don’t need to look up to know he’s waiting for your reaction and filled with apprehension. It’s ridiculous to think that this, after everything, would chase you off.

Rather than offer him compliments or try to assuage his fears, you do the one thing that you know will clear any doubts about his glowing, ribbed cock. You get comfortable and then without any preamble, sink your mouth down around him.

His hips jerk at the contact, chasing the wet heat of your mouth. You press against his hip, a slight warning that you’re the one in control right now and end up enjoying the extra softness you find there. You wrap your other hand around the base of his cock and slowly begin to pump what doesn’t fit in your mouth.

It feels different with the added ridges, but it's not enough to throw you off your game. You give them additional attention, noticing the noises Max makes when you do, and other than that it's like any other blowjob you've given.

In your peripheral vision, you can see Max digging his fingers into the sheets – the light emanating from them emphasizing the force of his grip. You love getting this reaction out of him and with his new features, it's only been made better.

The salt tang of his precum coats your tongue as you swirl it around the tip. Moaning, you continue to bob your head, squeezing at Max's stomach. You can feel his abs jumping with pleasure underneath the layer of fat.

Eventually your jaw begins to ache, unused to his increased size. Max groans when you pull off of him. "Lamb, please."

You place a small kiss at the tip of his cock, giggling. Max looks debauched. The freckles littering his body stand out in stark relief, backlit by his internal glow. You’ll have to ask about that later. You have so many questions, like why he’s been consistently getting brighter, but now isn’t exactly the time.

Before he can complain again, you climb onto his lap and line him up with your entrance. With his newfound size it’s going to be more of a stretch than normal, but you’re certain he’ll fit. You’re too turned on for him to not.

Max sits up, using his wings to help prop himself up, and places his hands on your hips. He holds you carefully as you sink down on him, letting you take your time. You can feel every ridge drag against your walls, increasing your pleasure.

“You look so pretty like this lamb. I love watching you take me,” he whispers to you, along with a thousand other filthy things that only half penetrate your mind.

He feels good. The pain of him stretching you open only lasts for a moment, giving way to immense pleasure. You’ve gotten used to his usual lack of warmth, adjusting to the ways you both have found to help heat him up a bit some days, but this is a thousand times better than warming lube could ever be. You pause once he’s finally buried to the hilt, catching your breath before you attempt to ride him.

Max is kissing all across your face, his arms wrapping around you. “Look at you, you’re perfect. I love you.”

You press your forehead against his chest, slightly grinding your hips and getting used to the way he feels. He’s pressed deep inside you, the feeling of him ending somewhere in your gut. Looking down, you can see light spilling between your bodies, now bright enough to put spots in your vision. You slide your arms around Max’s neck and pick up the pace.

Max completely envelopes all your senses. Every place that Max is touching you feels like your nerves are cranked to eleven, singing with absolute pleasure. His hair feels like the silk of the bedsheets between your fingers, his skin smells like the sweet spice of his cologne. He’s all you can see when you open your eyes. The breadth of his wings, the brick red skin lit by his ethereal glow.

You can’t believe Evan threw around Max being a monster like it was a bad thing. Who would ever want normal when you can have all this?

Max drags his fangs along your neck, making you shudder as goosebumps ripple across your skin again. “I knew you weren’t just cold those other times.”

“I- I didn’t want to freak you out,” you tell him honestly. You had no idea how he would react to that particular want, always being so careful to not hurt you.

Max groans, thrusting up into you. “Freak me out? Lamb, I have to hold myself back from biting into you every second you’re at my side. You smell so sweet.”

It’s not hard to say your next words. “You can do it. I want you to.”

Max pulls back, cradling your face and looking directly into your eyes. “You mean that?”

“I trust you. I love you.” You smile, sure that it looks punch drunk and strung out. It doesn’t mean you mean those words any less.

“I love you too.”

Max returns to your neck, his hands moving to your hips to help control your movements. This is already a messy business, having you bouncing on his lap wouldn’t help the situation. From this position, Max’s stomach rubs against your clit, replacing the pleasure that the decreased movement took.

He kisses and sucks at your neck first, careful not to bruise. He doesn’t want your blood spilling from your veins underneath your skin. His fangs press against your neck, skimming up and down until you’re begging him to stop teasing.

You can feel your arousal pooling heavily, dripping onto Max’s lap. You’re keyed up, ready for that final push that will overwhelm you entirely. There’s a prick at your neck, a momentary pain before you feel a rush of pleasure and you let go of any remaining resolve.

You can feel yourself shaking in Max’s arms, clenching down hard as he sucks and moans into your neck. If there’s any pain, you’re well beyond feeling it. Max fucks you through your orgasm, a satisfying lightheadedness slightly fogging your mind. You’re not really sure how long Max drinks for, the wet feeling of his tongue dragging over your neck signaling his end. You knew he would stop when he should.

It feels like you’re trying to think through a cloud. Every thought is thick and sticks before another one comes to push that one out. You pull yourself in tight to Max, randomly running your hands anywhere you can touch and mindlessly mouthing at his neck. “Cum for me baby, please,” you ask him. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Max moves you underneath him on the bed, pushing himself deeper into you. Despite the urgency in the roll of his hips, he’s still careful with you. He’s pressing compliments into you at the same time as himself, watching you come undone for him a third time. You look beautiful beneath him, coming for him, and Max lets himself go alongside you. It’s a good thing your eyes are already closed, the flash of brightness Max’s body creates enough to temporarily blind.

Groggily, you reach up and touch Max’s face. “I love you, Max.”

He kisses your palm and repeats the words back to you.

You wake up in Max’s arms. It’s still dark out so you know you weren’t asleep for too long. Max notices the moment you stir, probably picking up on the difference in your heart rate. “Good morning, sleeping beauty,” he grins at you.

You rub your eyes and blink at him. So it wasn’t a dream then. Max is still laid out beside you, in his full large, red, and glowing monstrous beauty. You’re so fucking relieved.

You throw yourself across Max’s body, nestling your face into his chest. “Holy shit, I thought I dreamed it.”

Max laughs. “Do you wish you had?”

He’s covering, but you can hear the authenticity wrapped in his question. You reach out, running a gentle finger along his horn. “Are you kidding me? I have a glow in the dark boyfriend who is ribbed for my pleasure. Why on earth would I want anyone else?”

Max’s cheeks glow bright as he smiles. Seeing him so happy makes your heart leap. It’s no wonder he hasn’t believed you all these months about how beautiful you find him. You haven’t even been seeing his true self and he’s never been more beautiful than he is at this moment.

You settle into his side, wrapped in one of his wings and mindlessly letting your fingertips dance across his skin. There are many questions you still have, but for now you’re content to lay here and enjoy being snuggled up with the monster you love.

You’re nodding off again when Max speaks. "I'm 136. 137 in three months."

That wakes you right back up. “You’re what?”

Monster!Max by @mjpens !!!! Thank you so so much for this BEAUTIFUL GIFT Maia! Having the visual reference helped me endlessly while writing this and I am very, very much in love with him 💕 The world now knows of Max and his beautiful beacon penis :)

A/N: As always, this fic is a relaxed fit so I'll be writing for it based on asks/when I'm feeling inspired. I'll be honest here and say that my attention is probably about to shift back towards my series fics, BUT please still send in asks if you have questions/thoughts to share! I might need a break from my series intermittently, or you might just get me extra inspired ;)

Everything taglist: @radiowallet @sergeantbannerbarnes @pilothusband @max--phillips @starlightmornings @moonlight-prose @practicalghost @sharkbait77 @honestly-shite @shadesofnerdlygrace @salome-c @artsymaddie @niki-xie @doin-stuff @magikfanatic @astoryisaloveaffair @tintinn16 @mswarriorbabe80 @phandoz @amneris21 @tenderwhat @asta-lily @chaoticgeminate @snarwor

Pedro Boys: @iamskyereads @writeforfandoms @girlwholoveswords @beskarboobs @littlemisspascal @ezrasbirdie @anaaaispunk @cannedsoupsucks @jaime1110 @lellowberry @castleamc @missminkylove @thirddeadlysin @maievdenoir @wordsnwhiskey @magpie-to-the-morning @deadhumourist @actuallyprettylucky @dinsangelx

#max phillips x you #max phillips x reader #max phillips fanfiction #bloodsucking bastards fanfiction #monster!max #crasis writes

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sombreboy · 4 years

Text

the alpha⇢hybrid!pjm

⤍18+ ⤍pairing: wolf!hybrid Jimin x human!female reader ⤍genre: pwp smut, hybrid, stranger fuck ⤍word count: 8.5k ⤍warnings: sub!y/n, dom!pjm, profanity, drinking, blowjob, jimin’s compliment kink knows no bounds, he calls you little lamb a lot, degdrading names, unprotected sex, creampie/knotting, light impreg kink, mating, rough fucking, licking, torrential downpour of cum.

A/N: Co-written with lovely @ppersonna as an rp. ♡

So why were you dressed up like a bitch in heat, entering the exact club you tried so hard to avoid? Because, deep down, it’s all you wanted. You knew that deep down you desired someone strong and powerful, someone superior to you, to take and claim you as their own—their plaything.

The city never sleeps. A saying that has been true for the past century, and it remains true til this day, where humans and hybrids now coexist as equals. Well, as equal as it gets. Hybrids were a superior species with their mixed genetics, gaining attributes from said animals that they have in them. Whether it be stronger bodies, beautiful patterns and physical alterations– they were seen as the greater species. But yet humans managed to keep up, somewhat. It wasn’t that much different. Park Jimin is one of those hybrids. His genetics were intertwined with that of a white wolf, giving his hair a bright blonde color. However, he had it dyed not too long ago, so the color was instead a washed out purple mixed into his blonde curls. His irises were a bright orange, pupils as black as the leather jacket and pants he wore. One wouldn’t think he looked terribly intimidating at a first glance, but his stare could make anybody feel a shiver run down their spine from the sheer intensity of it.

He was the alpha, after all.

Jimin spent every single night at a nightclub that was famous specifically for being dominated by the predatory hybrids. Lions, tigers, snakes, foxes… Wolves. Jimin’s pack was the hybrids that people came for most of the time.For what, you may ask? To get thoroughly fucked without mercy, of course. But that was only possible if you caught their interest, or you’d have to settle for the snake.

Jimin’s pack consisted of three other wolf hybrids… Hoseok, the beta. Which practically means he’s one rank below Jimin, who is the leader. The other two hybrids are Namjoon and Yoongi, who are one rank below Hoseok, making them the deltas. They don’t care, they are content to just follow along with what their leader says, but are often given their own choice to do however they please either way. Together, they form quite the diverse group, and they were notorious and alluring for newcomers and common faces.

Jimin loved it, the dark, crowded underground venue, flashing lights, alcohol… And humans. More often than not, only hybrid women came by. Rich ones. Easy to spot. But what truly had the wolf riled up, was when a human would stumble in. Their scent was an entirely different game. He allowed his pack to separate, but never going too far as they headed to find their own prey for the night, while Jimin himself remained still, leaning against the bar counter with a pink, sugary drink in his hand, straw tightly pressed between his plushy, glossy lips.

It was time to hunt.

You weren’t sure what came over you—what drew you to the idea of leaving your cozy and safe, structured life and entering the dark unknown. The nightclub was somewhere you previously steered clear of, even crossed the street to avoid being next to it when walking by. It was decidedly not your scene, and the idea of the strong, intuitive hybrids sent a chill down your spine.

So why were you dressed up like a bitch in heat, entering the exact club you tried so hard to avoid? Because, deep down, it’s all you wanted. You stayed away from it like a drug. You knew the moment you gave in, you’d sink down the black hole into utter depravity. You knew that deep down you desired someone strong and powerful, someone superior to you, to take and claim you as their own—their plaything. It was hard to be confident in such a stifling environment. Your tight little crop top covered only the barest of your modesty, and the tight skirt accentuated your curves. The confidence you felt in the mirror of your apartment soon dissipated as you walked into the loud club. You could feel the hungry stares, the intense eyes of all the men and women in the place.

You didn’t know who or what you were looking for—rather, hoping they would find you instead. You craved the idea of giving up your power, your control to someone who could hold it over you and force you into submission. The thought made your core burn with need. The bartender slid your simple cocktail towards you with a wink as you settled into the stool awkwardly, trying to appear much stronger than the scared little human you were. You knew they all could smell it on you—the mixture of fear and arousal. So many of them approached you, attempted to charm their way inside you, but none of them felt right. Maybe this was a bad idea, maybe you should have stayed home. You can’t help but feel a burn of shame and disappointment as you chug your drink as quickly as you can to make a desperate dash towards the door.

Your nervous eyes skittered around the room, watched as each ravenous alpha eye-fucked you. It was terrifying, intimidating. It cemented just how wrong you were to come here, until— he came into view. Your breath nearly collapsed in your lungs as you took in the vision of the lavender haired man. He was gorgeous. Not just attractive but ethereal in his visage. Your pupils dilated, heart rate increased as you stared at him. You were blatant in your gaze, unable to wrench your eyes elsewhere. He was simply the most captivating man you’ve ever seen in your life, and your body burned with desperate need for him. After moments of desperate staring, you finally shake yourself off and peer down at your empty drink. Was it him? What was so magnetic about the lithe man? Could he be the one to finally claim what you needed to give up? Your cheeks burned with a mixture of shame and need, hoping that he didn’t notice your blatant ogling. Fuck.

Jimin’s fiery gaze flickered to meet yours the very second he felt your eyes on him, straw still tightly sucked between his lips. He crooked a coy eyebrow at you as he pushed himself up from his leaning position to stand upright, no hesitation in his bones in the way he slowly sauntered over to you. His hips swayed in a light strut, mesmerizing in every sense of the word; the predatory genes within giving him these very traits to be alluring for it’s prey. And it seemed to be working, with the way your eyes were glued on him. He stopped when he was right in front of you, giving just enough space for him to be able to observe your fit from top to bottom, but close enough for you to smell his distinct scent. Sweet, calming– arousing. His natural pheromones didn’t leave anybody unaffected, even turning heads on his way, eyes wide with both surprise and envy that the alpha had approached… well, you. “How refreshing with a new face.” Jimin’s canary voice was sweet, yet it had an undertone of a light growl. His canines poked out as he smiled, plush upper lip curling up to showcase his pearly whites further.

Your blush furthered a deeper shade of rose as he approached. Fuck. He definitely saw you staring. The power in his gaze and strut over to you screamed alpha. Hopefully he wasn’t the kind to bite and then ask questions. You’d unfortunately run into that type before.

The blood in your veins pulsed hard, skyrocketing your nerves. He looked so good. It was almost unfair that someone so fucking beautiful existed. You felt small and plain in comparison to the gorgeous man. His whole being exuded sultry command. You nibbled at your bottom lip as he sauntered up to you. Your body was reacting already to his presence, his voice. The entire club was staring at you, curious of the exchange that would happen between the exquisite man and you, the nervous little human. “I-,” you struggled to answer. If he wasn’t aware of how nervous you were before, he would be now—surely. “I don’t really come to these types of places.”

Try as you might, you couldn’t stop staring at the man’s gorgeous pout and terrifyingly attractive teeth. Your heart beat pounded hard in your head, overpowering the loud beat of music.

“D-do you come here often?” You asked, hoping to be polite despite the pooling arousal and growing fear.

Jimin’s smile slowly morphed into a wolfish grin, the apple of his cheeks puffing up until his eyes were shaped like small crescent moons. He almost looked harmless and inviting. “Cute…” he mused under his breath before he took a daring step closer to you, his hand reaching out to gently run his fingers through the piece of stray hair that had fallen forward over your face. He brought the locks to his nose, inhaling deeply. A low rumble vibrated in his chest.. You smelled divine. Even through the shampoo and possible product, he could smell your scent behind it all. “Yeah, I come here, every. single. night…” Jimin winked before withdrawing his hand to let it settle on his hip, his stance powerful and graceful. His dark pupils quivered when he raked down your body for a second time, the wolf ears sticking out from his hair flickering with curiosity. “Why are you here, little lamb?” He cooes at you, licking his upper teeth as he steps closer. He had no problem hearing you through the booming music, but how would you know? It gave him more of an excuse to get closer. “Looking like that?” Of course he knew why. He could smell why. But it was of no news that Jimin loved to play with his prey, ramp up the anxiety until he could practically taste it on his tongue.

Your heart thumped so loud in your chest you were sure all of the club could hear it. If they couldn’t, they definitely could smell the thrum of anxiety pulsing through you. His voice sizzled in your veins, erupting into flames as it enveloped you. Then, he touched you. The simple act of moving your hair had your mind reeling. You could smell him—he was so close you wanted to bury your face in his chest and breathe deeply. His question caught you off guard. Why were you here? Did you even know the answer to that? Your cherry cheeks flushed and you ducked your head, trying to avoid his sultry and tempting gaze. He continued to get closer and it made you tremble with a mix of fright and need. His power was overwhelming, and all you wanted to do was kneel for him.

“I’m—…not quite sure,” you spoke truthfully as you took another sip of your rapidly melting drink. “I’ve never been here before. I think I wanted something… scary.” Your big doe eyes sought out his, so mystifying with their exotic color and shape. He was truly so gorgeous it made your mouth salivate. You squirmed in your seat, suddenly feeling self conscious of your outfit. “My friend told me I should wear something sexy.” Your cheeks were so hot, so embarrassed by how easily you wanted to give into the terrifyingly attractive alpha. “I’m wondering if maybe this was a bad idea…”

Although the music around them was blaring, it felt like a long moment of silence dragged on between the two when Jimin didn’t answer for a hot second. He kept his stare fixed on your face, the small expressions of embarrassment, curiosity, and purity drew him in. He’s truly never encountered a human like you before. One that dared to come here despite being so… weak. It was like you were begging to be eaten, dangling like a fresh piece of the finest meat in front of all these hungry predators. Jimin could hear it, the rumbling growls and groans of men in the room, hoping that the alpha wolf would lose interest and leave a piece for them to get a taste.

“Scary?” He suddenly chirped, his smile more of a smirk at this point as he placed his drink on the bar counter, ice jumping in the glass from the harsh clonk. He bent forward to shamelessly brush his cheek against yours, a subtle way of rubbing his scent off on your skin, knowing it’d avert some of the attention around him– he’s already begun to claim you for himself. His hot breath fanned your ear as he spoke.

“I can smell your lust for fear, little lamb… Do I scare you?” Jimin’s hand softly snaked down the curve of your hip, smoothing his ring-clad fingers down your thigh until he was greeted by your scorching skin. He squeezed the flesh between his digits, cold rings digging into your thigh as he exhaled another hot, quivering breath against your neck, loving the way your scent was slowly mixing with his own.

The man’s simple action of brushing his cheek against your own had your body seizing up. You could smell him as he rubbed his soft skin on yours—a heady mix of something fruity and something naturally luscious. It embarrassed you to know how arousing his simple act had been. You chided yourself internally for feeling your body heat at his gentle action. You licked your lips as he whispered hot words into your ear, making a tingle travel down your spine.

“Y-yes,” you murmured. “You scare me more than anyone h-here.” His hands gripping your thigh made a quiet moan escape your lips. It was desperate. You felt overstimulated and yet so desperate to be touched by the terrifying alpha. Suddenly feeling emboldened, your hands gripped at his sides, slipping under his expensive shirt to touch at the toned skin of his obliques and anchoring yourself to him there.

Jimin’s hand flew down to wrap his fingers around your small wrist, blunt nails digging into your soft skin. His hand on your thigh swiftly withdrew, and the loss of his warmth had you internally whining for more. “Did I say you could touch me?” His voice wasn’t hostile, yet it oozed with the asserting of his dominance. “You’re a daring girl.” He smiles at you, the contrast between his hungry gaze and his softly curved lips was confusing to say the least– but there was no doubt that he was not the kind to simply allow anything without permission.

The alpha’s sudden movement and grip on your hand made you squeal with fright—eyes widening and heart stopping its beat in your chest. Your mouth ran dry. Your terror coursed through you with the distinct tang of need. His dominance made you even more desperate. “I’m sorry,” you peeped quietly, itching to move your fingers away in case it angered him further but also needing to feel his tender skin underneath you once more. “I didn’t mean—..” you stuttered as you felt brave enough to peer up in his enchanting eyes. His smile was comforting but the hungry gaze in his stare had you trembling. Jimin cupped your cheek, hushing you with reassurance– although he seemed way too amused with the way you were practically shaking underneath his touch.

“Breathe. We’re all here to have a good time.” He smoothed the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, noting just how dry it had become. He decided to order another set of drinks, handing one to you that was the same pink shade as the one he got for himself. “Drink.” He didn’t ask, but he commanded you to accept his offer.

You were powerless to deny any demand the man made. Even if he had asked, you’d still be eating out of the palm of his hand like a terrified and starved pet. His thumb on your lips made you ache to open and accept his digit in your mouth, swirl your tongue around it teasingly. Your eyes sought his—hoping you could portray some of the arousal you felt over your innocent fright. You took a sip—a large one in hopes of lowering your frightened inhibitions to open up more to the beautiful man. “Mmm—,” you hummed as your eyes fluttered to close. “This is delicious.” It was sweet on your tongue, but not cloyingly. It warmed you and made your body loose.

“It’s my favorite.” Jimin agreed, already half way through his own. The entire time he kept his eyes trained on your lips, the darkening color on your cheeks from the heat that both alcohol and his proximity provided. When finished, he stretched his back with a light pop, the shirt he’s wearing underneath the jacket lifting just enough for the prominent V-line that snaked down his pants teasingly on display. His visuals were unmatched. He took off his jacket, leaving it unattended by the counter. No one would dare to touch it anyway, the leather oozing of his distinct scent. Only somebody with a death wish would. He combed his fingers through his hair, licking his lower lip clean form the residue sugar from this drink. His ears perked up when the lights dimmed further, and a new song came into play, booming through the speakers that caused a pleasant vibration to pulse through the building.

“I love this song.” Jimin reached for your arm to tug you out of the chair with him towards the crowded dance floor. As per usual, there was no question of whether you wanted to or not, but with a few drinks, and his intoxicating presence, it didn’t seem too bad. For Jimin, this was just part of his foreplay. He brought you into the crowd, tightly packed with all kinds of scents and musks. But the only one he could smell was yours, slowly morphing with his own as he placed his hands on your hips from behind, nose brushing against your neck as he inhaled. “Feel that? The beat?” He growled into your ear, swaying his hips along with the way he moved yours back and forth.

The music, once quiet and unassuming to you, now became loud and matched the beat of your heart. The alpha was dragging you towards the dance floor and in the midst of the hungry crowd, staring at you from where they rubbed up against each other. Just as you were trying to understand where to move, how to adjust your body to the dance, he pressed himself up behind you and gripped your hips. You could feel your pulse running through your veins and the way his touch electrified your skin. “Y-yeah,” you murmured as your hips began to move without thought. They easily swayed with the man’s guidance and you shivered as his nose pressed into your neck. It was like he couldn’t get enough of your scent, your being. The man’s hyper fixation on you had your core drenched—and you knew he could likely smell just how aroused for him you were. You let your eyes close and follow his guiding hold on your body, your ass pressing back against him to rub and grind along his length. It seemed the alphas drink was bringing you ever so gently out of your shell. “Mmm, I feel the beat right here.”

“Fuck, you smell good…” Jimin growled into your ear, his claw-like grip on your hips tightening to keep you in place as he pressed his hips right back against your ass, his cock prominent through the thin layer of his leather pants. It pulsed with every beat of his heart, it was driving him near insanity to practically taste your arousal on his tongue along with the overwhelming smell. “You’re dripping, aren’t you?” He huffed, tastefully biting your earlobe as one hand smoothed down your thigh to tug at the hem of your dress, unbothered to the fact that other hybrids were spying on them. He wanted them to see the way he got to have you, and they don’t. The way you were oozing with lust for the alpha, the pungent arousal of yours surely drove not just Jimin feral, but every single hybrid in the venue. And no one could say a fucking thing.

It was hard to hold back the peeps of surprise and arousal as you felt the alpha’s growing cock against you. Your body instinctively continued to rub and further agitate the hardening length to fully erect. When you felt his hands on you, your body reacted. You knew your cunt was oozing, likely soaking the satin panties underneath your tight skirt and soon to drip down your leg in a sign of utter submission and need to the alpha behind you. “Y-yes,” you whined. “I n-need you.” The admittance was shameless–the alcohol and lowered inhibitions making it easier for you to admit your desires to the man without regret. You could sense that he was showing you off and you complied, allowed the man to present you to everyone in the club who stared with bloodlust for you. “Please,” you gasped, not quite sure of what you were asking for other than him–more him. “Please, take me.”

Jimins wolfish grin grew against your skin before he swiftly grabbed you by your wrist to pull you with him, guiding the two of you towards privacy. Normally, he’d take his prey to the back, or even home… but there was an urgency within him that was too strong to ignore, there was no time– he needed to claim you now. So he pulled you into the bathroom close by, slamming your back against the wall with a thud the moment the door closed behind you. His heavy breaths were laced with small grunts as he crashed his pillowy lips against yours, hands greedily peeling the skirt of your dress up to expose your ass for him to harshly grab onto, squeezing the soft flesh between his ring clad fingers until it protruded between his digits, sharp nails digging into your delicate skin. “Fuck, you drive me crazy, little lamb.” Jimin hisses between hot kisses, the vibrating growl in his chest growing louder as he bites down on your lower lip to draw more innocent whines from your sweet throat. “Every single male in there wishes they could mate with you, shit… the male pheromones were off the roof, they’re all gonna jerk off to the memory of this–” one of his hands cupped your pussy through your soaked panties, dragging his palm to feel the damp fabric stain his skin. “Of how delicious your cunt smells… it’s like a fucking drug.”

Your eyes widened as the strong and sensual man dragged you from the dance floor to the bathroom. The same terror that once pulled through you now flooded every sense. Had you done something wrong? Was he going to harm you? Your worries were sucked up the second he pressed his lips to yours hungrily. Kissing him was like standing too close to a fire. He was hot, so hot, and before you knew it, you’d be engulfed in his hot, licking flames. His hands felt like palpable sin in your flesh and you needed more. “Please,” you whimpered as his hands cupped at your core. You knew you were a mess—dripping with shameless need for the alpha. The kisses turned deeper as you allowed his tongue entrance into your mouth and sought purchase in his own. Your hands stayed by your sides, itching to touch him but remembering his previous warning. “Please, let me touch you. Anywhere.” It felt like you were dying and the only cure was him—any bit of him on you and underneath your fingertips. “Ahh—,” you whined as his hand continued his assault on your cunt. “It’s a-all for you. I don’t want anyone else, only you.”

Jimin’s auburn gaze glowed as he pulled back from the kiss, his pointy canines poking out as he smiled. “You want to touch me?” He purred as he pressed your body harder back against the wall with his own, gliding the pads of his fingers up and down your clothed slit until he feels the swell of your clit through your panties, only to give it extra attention by circling his digits with just enough pressure. Not enough to satisfy, but not enough to not drive you crazy. “You don’t get to touch me until I say so… But don’t worry, good behavior will be rewarded.” Jimin added with his lighter tone of voice, leaning in to nudge your chin to the side with his nose– like a dog would. He softly grazes the skin of your neck with his nose, lips; a deep inhale through his nostrils triggered a vibrating rumble in his throat, and a prominent, heavy throb in his pants. “We’re not in a rush.” He whispered against your neck before placing open mouthed kisses down your skin until he reached the slope of your neck, feeling as his cock grew harder– the more aggressive his kisses became. From soft pecks, to messy sucking, surely painting your delicate skin with splashes of purple.

Feeling the man all over your body and being denied to touch was maddening, but deliciously so. His fingers dipped into your slit and teased so delicately that you thought you might cry if he didn’t give you something soon. Your moans turned into desperate whines and gasps as you allowed him to continue his thorough torture of your clit. Kissing him felt like sin, like heaven and hell. He was everything you wanted—everything you sought after when you stepped foot into the very club you now were being thoroughly debauched in. His cock felt heavy and thick against you and it made you whisper against his lips in arousal and desperation. He trailed down your body and you let out a shaky moan as you felt his sharp incisors suckle and nip at the delicate skin. “Use me,” you begged gently. “P-Please, make me yours.”

Your hips ground against his, rubbing against his hardened length as much as you could to alleviate the burn between your thighs. “Fuck, I want you so bad, please sir.”

“Such a good girl, asking so nicely.” Jimin’s low voice resembled a mix between his natural voice and a growl, the raspyness of it forcing a chill running down your spine, reminding you that he was indeed not human, but a hungry predator. Which is exactly what he was– well, it’s a part of him he only indulges in on nights like these, in a place like this. Who he was outside of these walls, nobody truly knew. His fingers curled around the fabrics of your panties to swiftly rip them off, carelessly discarding them to the dirty floor. Now exposed, your scent was stronger than ever. He shamelessly inhaled through his nose, eyes fluttering in pleasure, feeling the droplets of precum staining his swollen tip underneath the restraining pants.

“Still reconsidering whether coming here was a good or bad idea?” He asks through his breathy voice as he pulled back to look at your needy expression, all while his hands casually reach down to undo his pants, slowly peeling the leather down his hips. His cock sprung up proudly, drooling with arousal down his glistening skin, a content sigh pushing past his plushy lips. “Hm? You like it?” Jimin’s piercing gaze flickered between his cock and your face, grabbing the shaft with his hand. “Want a taste? All you have to do is drop to your knees on the filthy floor…”

Everything about the man radiated power. He mystified you. He even looked beautiful, gorgeous rather, under the harsh fluorescent lights. You were sure you would follow him off the edge of a cliff if he told you to. You didn’t know his name but you didn’t need to, he had you between his delicate fingers. Your breath hitched as he ripped your soaked panties off your body. The cool air of the bathroom was startling against your heated cunt. It made you gasp out loud. “I-I think it was a good idea,” you gulped. Your eyes were big, pleading and needy as you peered into his own. He had you completely under his spell.

Your mouth watered as the man pushed his skintight pants down and exposed his length to you. It was perfect. Thick and long and curved just right that made your core ache for him. You dropped to your knees without hesitation, ignoring the way the wet floor felt against your body. The floor was disgusting but nothing would stop you from pleasing the alpha. You shimmied your skirt up your body, allowing your bare ass and cunt to be exposed to the open air as you knelt before him.

“Please.” The word was becoming your prayer, repeated to the god above you to grant you your blessings. You opened your mouth and stuck out your tongue—an obedient little dog in heat. You wanted nothing more than to take him in your mouth without warning but you knew now to wait. You wanted to please the alpha so badly.

Jimin’s eyes darkened immensely at the gorgeous view beneath him, the fiery color of his irises barely visible for they were practically blackened out. If there was something the alpha adored, it was to look down on his prey, being begged to use them as he pleased. You were the perfect plaything for him. “So pretty.” He cooed, a small smile curling up on his upper lip to expose his pointy teeth. He gave his cock a few lazy strokes, his other hand gently combing through your hair before he abruptly curls his fingers to tug at it. He drew you in closer to his red, dripping length as he kept stroking it, eyes not even blinking once as he stared down at you. “Can’t wait to pump you full of my cum… Fuck, such a slut for my cock already.” His words grew filthier the more aroused he became. His patience ran low, so he guided the tip of his drooling cock to your lips, tugging your hair to draw you even closer to take his length down your throat. “Only good girls can take it all. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? Come on…”

The intensity of the alphas gaze made you shiver on the sodden ground and you could tell your cunt was dripping, likely even dripping down onto the very same floor. The bite of pain in your hair stung as he gripped you, but it sizzled and burned until it added to the overall sensation and made your nipples harden in delight. You breathed in deep, steeling yourself as his length came closer. His salacious words made you tremble and ooze with excitement. You wanted nothing more than to be a vessel, a hole for him to wrench pleasure from. His length was warm and dripping with precum. It felt so thick and heavy on your tongue as he continued to push it in. You audibly moaned as you felt it push past your uvula. He was so thick and tasted like salt and sweetness. You let your lips close and wrap around him as you took him to the hilt. You flicked your eyes up to him, shining with tears of strain from the thickness choking your throat. You wanted to prove how good you were, how well you could take him.

After a moment of holding his length as deep as it could go, you pulled back slightly to begin a bobbing motion as you sucked greedily on his cock. Saliva pooled around your lips as you drew him in and out, and the sounds you made sucking could be heard over the thumping of the bar music. You wanted to prove yourself to the alpha, show him you could be more than just a one time type of girl. You wanted him to claim you forever.

“Oh, fuck yes…” Jimin’s pillowy lips parted in initial surprise, but quickly he bit back his low groan as it rumbled in his chest. He knew you were needy, but he didn’t expect you to be so greedy to suck him off. And being so good at it on top of being eager to please– it was oddly new. Normally, every past experience of his was not like this, but more like him doing every piece of the work for a ragdoll, so watching you work his cock so willingly, attentive to his own reactions and pleasure in a different way…. It hit something in him that only riled him up further than anybody had ever done previously.

“Deeper. Gag on it, make it messy.” His chest heaved up and down heavily, deep huffs through his nose displaying just how good he feels in between the low moans, no shame in showcasing how good it feels. He presses his back against the wall, craning his neck to get a good look of the way your lips stretched around his thick shaft. “I can hear your cunt dripping… Can scent it, god, it smells divine. Your insides must be aching for me.” He murmurs as he drives his hips forward a bit rougher to meet your movements, eager to feel your throat constrict around him when he hits too far down your throat. “Coat your fingers in your juices, little lamb. Show me.”

The praise made you preen, and even more desperate to prove your worth to the man. His cock was so big inside your mouth it was hard to keep yourself from gagging, but you worked against it and continued to suck and slurp down his length. You obeyed every order, and slicked him up until your mouth was squelching with saliva around him and it dripped from your face like a tap. You whined around his length as you obeyed, keeping up a pace as you buried a hand down to your exposed core. You nearly gasped at the feeling. You were absolutely soaked and dripping with anticipation. Your fingers swirled in the wetness and coated you easily. You desperately wanted to touch your clit and play with yourself to bring you to your own end but you knew now it was better to wait for his instruction.

While maintaining your eager pace and swirling tongue, you lifted your dripping fingers from your cunt and presented them to the man above you, eyes still trained on his own in utter submission.

Jimin’s eyes quivered at the sight, pupils shrinking as he zeroes in on the glossy sheen on your fingers. His cock twitched in your mouth once, twice before he decided that he’d been patient enough… He could not wait any longer to claim you as his own. He pushed his palm against your forehead until his length was ripped from your throat, drool and precum dribbling down your chin. A long string of the juices seeped down his cock, another piece of it connected to your lips. It was an absolute mess, just the way he liked it.

“Up.” He growled, but before you were even able to obey his orders on your own, he pulled you up by your wrist, bringing the very coated fingers of yours into his mouth. All while maintaining eye contact, his swollen, pink lips eagerly sucked your arousal clean from your digits, swirling his skillful, rough tongue. Around, in between… He refused to let a single drop go to waste. “Mm..” he hummed when he let go of your fingers with a pop of his lips, the small smirk in the corners of his mouth widening. A light thudding sound caught your attention from behind him, his fluffy, white tail wagging in excitement, hitting the wall with every whip. “It’s a bit hot… Take my jacket off.” He suddenly asks, but his sweet tone was deceptive with the underlying command luring in his predatory gaze. He turns around, lowering his shoulders to allow you to easily slide the leather off, his tail playfully brushing against your thighs.

You nearly whined as Jimin forced you away from his cock—not wanting to remove yourself from the thick length that fit so perfectly in your drooling mouth. But the whine is cut short by his demand to stand and as he sucks your fingers into his mouth you nearly forget everything else around you. “A-ah, fuck,” you breathed—pupils dilating at the sight of the gorgeous man sucking your juices off your delicate fingers. Your cunt pulsated around nothing, so desperate for his thick cock now that the arousal has dripped down the insides of your thighs. “Yes sir,” you whispered as your fingers found the edges of his jacket and pulled it off his body. His tail makes your eyes widen as the soft fur brushes against your legs. You’ve never been with a hybrid before, never been with an alpha hybrid at that, and you’re eager to learn just how he differs in other ways. You couldn’t help but marvel at the muscles on the lithe man. He’s thin, but built and you found you’re desperate to lick up the defined lines of his abs. “You’re so p-pretty,” you whispered without knowing it escaped you, marveling at the gorgeous man.

Jimin’s tail trembled with more excitement at the praise, oddly enough. He’s been called many things. Sexy, scary, hot, alluring… Pretty? He liked it.

“Yeah?” he breathes out a small chuckle through his nose, pressing his lips together in thought. He shook his head to get rid of his mind wandering too far, instead back to indulging in the moment– focused on the aching throb between his legs. Jimin pulls his shirt over his head to expose his full torso, the tattoo on his ribs on clear display along with the faded, scattered scars adorning his skin in the form of striped, claw like patterns. Now with his body freed from the cage that is fabrics, he didn’t waste another second to grab you by the hips, turn you around to face away from him, and immediately push you forward to force you to use the sink as leverage. The large, dirty mirror on the wall stared back at you, clear enough for you to see the two of you in this sinful moment.

“You’re pretty too. A pretty slut, about to get her pretty little cunt stretched so bad you’ll be ruined for any other male.” Jimin’s canine adorned smile grew as he stared you down through the reflection in the mirror, grasp on your hips moving to the flesh of your ass. His foot kicks your feet apart, forcing you to stand wider and spread for him. A quick glance down and he already sees just how wet and dripping your cunt was. He pushed the head of his cock against your slit, coating it with your juices before gently rocking forward, not going inside, instead just rubbing between your swollen lips.

“So pretty,” you murmured as your eyes washed over him. Your mouth ran dry as he pulled his shirt off and exposed himself to the hard light of the bathroom. He looked like sin incarnate and your body ached to touch. Your fingertips lightly trailed the skin of his abs, grazing over the tattoo with the faintest touch. The cold sink countertop felt like ice against your chest, still heaving with need as the man prepped your body for his entrance. “Please ruin me, alpha,” you begged, peering into his own gaze through the reflection of the mirror. Your knees and legs trembled as he teased his cock against your desperate slit. “Mark me as yours, please. I only want you.” His cock felt so thick even at the entrance, prodding and poking through your sodden folds. A moan wrenched through your lips as it pushed against your clit and slicked with your own arousal.

“Fuck me, please!” The teasing was near torture and you were desperate, pushing your hips back lightly to encourage the man to slip in and ruin you completely.

With lips closed, he smiled, eyebrows raising your desperation. It was almost mocking, yet pleased with just how desperate you were for him. Your initial fear seemed replaced with utter submission and desire to be his. “We’ve only been in here for minutes and you’re already pathetically wet.” As he spoke, his hips snapped forward to grant your one and only wish, filling your soppy hole with his fleshy, rigid cock. He had no desire to ease you into the stretch from his generous girth, immediately pulling back until merely the tip was engulfed by your cunt before drilling back into you with another squelching thrust. “Tight… no other cock must have ever stretched you this well, huh? Fuck..” He bites down his abused lower lip, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he had to gather himself. The scent you emitted was incredibly strong, intoxicating to his mind. It was like a high he’s never experienced before, and he knew he was already a lost cause to the addiction that is you.

The feeling of the alpha’s cock filling you completely was unparalleled. You’d never felt something within you so deep, never been stretched so far past your breaking point—and unable to care about the tearing pain. The pleasure outweighed the sizzling burn of pain. He was merciless and your whimpering moans echoed around the damp bathroom. “I—ohhhh fuck,” you gasped as he pushed into you yet again, spearing you nearly in half. It was as if you could feel him deep in your stomach, and you never wanted him to leave your soaked cunt. He was claiming his territory with each torturous thrust inside you that made your throat burn for more. “Only you,” you whimpered as his thrusts became merciless and powerful. “All y-yours now. Oh, god, so good,” you praised. You learned the beautiful man thrived on praise as much as you did on the dominant commands. Your hips moved in time with his powerful purses and the sound of skin slapping on skin filled the small room. “Oh my god, sir,” you cried as fat tears of pleasure rolled down your cheeks. “You make me feel so good. I only want your c-cock inside me forever.” You knew now you would be hopelessly tied to the man, and you desperately ached for him to claim you as his own. “P-please, mark me as yours, alpha.”

The low, vibrating growl that rumbled throughout Jimin’s body would have anybody’s fight or flight instincts kicking in– the latter the most logical response from anyone within their right mind. His powerful thrusts were beyond that of what a human was capable of, the skin on your ass bruising with every loud, harsh collision of your bodies. “Only me?” he snarled through a wolfish grin, lips parting in a moan when your cunt clenched around his length. His sharp, claw like nails drew blood as they dug deep into the fleshy part of your waistline, moving your body like a ragdoll to meet his thrusts, your own attempts at doing so barely noticeable. “You want to be my little cockwhore?” Jimin leaned forward, hovering above you as he pressed his chest against your back, the grip on your waist moving to wrap around your torso with one arm, the other clawing at your jaw, forcing you to stare into the reflection in front of you. He keeps you tightly in place, feeling the way your body jiggles and jolts while he fucked into you with insatiable greed. “The alpha’s bitch?” His fiery eyes meet yours through the reflection, his toothy smile growing. He inches closer to drag his flattened tongue up your cheek, a coating of messy saliva dripping down your sweaty skin. Claiming you in every sense of the word.

The man claimed you roughly, making your throat rip with a desperate and wanton moan. His cock was pushing into your cunt deeper than anyone’s ever gone before, harder and with purpose. It was as if the man wanted to fuse your bodies together, become one. You certainly wanted it. His hands on your skin felt hot, feverish. You wanted him to touch you everywhere, at any time he could. You were hopeless addicted now. “Please,” you cried as the tears of pleasure poured from your face. “Claim this cunt as yours. I’m only yours!” You could feel your bliss piquing, building up to the impossible precipice. You whined as you watched your reflection. Your makeup smeared down your face with your sweat and tears. His fingers held your jaw tightly and your cunt pulsed around his heavy cock at the sight. You could see his heavy and thick length spearing into you and retracting smeared in your juices. Something inside you tells you it’s what you want to see for the rest of your life—only his cock ruining you and coaxing torrential orgasms out of you. “Yes! Breed me like the bitch in heat I am!” You cried out loud, no longer caring about your volume. Everyone in the bar could hear your desperate screams for the alpha and it only made you wetter, more aching for the man. “Fill me up with your seed, alpha! I need it, please! Cum inside me!”

The perked wolf ears adorning Jimin’s head flickered with his excitement, pointed forward to make sure he soaks up every little sound you make for him. You were so loud, shamelessly letting every hybrid in the building know just how good the alpha makes you feel. ‘Breed me.’ The words stuck to him, replaying in his mind whilst stuffing you with his cock over and over, the mix of your arousal and his precum dripping down into a puddle at the filthy bathroom floor. He wrapped his arms around your torso, holding you close as his thrusts changed pace. Still filled with greed and force, but no longer pulling back as much, instead keeping his cock lodged deep inside of you whilst prodding as deep inside of you as he possibly can. Jimin’s cock was on the verge of bursting inside of you, and instinctively he possessively sunk his teeth into the tender skin of your shoulder, shutting his eyes harshly. But just as quickly, his eyes opened back up, staring with wide eyes into the mirror when something he did not expect happened. He knew this was it, there was no going back. With one last, harsh thrust, he stilled his movements abruptly, heavy breathing down your neck as he kept you tightly in place– in case you would panic. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.. Put my little pups inside of you- fuck…” He growled into your skin, gnashing his teeth together. His cock grew inside of you, and he was physically unable to remove himself.

Whether it was intentional or not.. His body had chosen to breed you– to mate with you. “Mine.” He whined, and with that, his cock began to desperately pulsate inside of you as he disposed of his warm cum in heavy, pattern-like gushes. Like a volcano erupting, it didn’t stop, but he kept cumming, holding his hands on your stomach as he felt it start to lightly bulge from the amounts he was able to offer. “Gah…. shit… Look at you.” He could barely hold his voice stable, legs quivering, body twitching with every throb of his rigid length, still snugly wrapped by your cum-stuffed flesh.

Nothing in the world, in your life, has ever felt better than the way the alpha felt as he fucked into you. You barely knew the man, and yet you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over to him for as long as he wanted. You found yourself wanting to surrender your life to him. You felt safe in the security of his arms. As if you were always meant to find him, to be here with him. It didn’t matter that he had you in a damp bathroom, you would have him anyway and place. Your orgasm quickly approached, winding up and throttling you over the edge as your cunt convulsed around him. Your channels tightened and milked him, and you sobbed at the wave of pleasure creating over you.

“Yours,” you whined as your bodies stilled. His cock enlarged inside you, making your eyes widen and whimper as your hands clutched at his arms wrapped around you. You needed to touch him, stabilize yourself as your core widens to accept him and your tummy bulges from the amount of cum he pulses into you. It’s hot, and warm and you can feel it coating your walls thick. Your breathing was rapid, coming down from your high and the minor fright from having his cock widen and remain locked within you as he came.

“So big,” you whispered as a tear rolled down your cheek. “H-hurts… But I can take it. I’ll take it for you.” Your head lolls back and rests on his shoulder, allowing your body to relax around the feeling of his swollen knot. “Anything for you,” you murmured, as if you were in a daze. Your hands held on to his slender arms for support and reassurance, hoping desperately you pleased the alpha enough to keep you forever. “D-did I do okay?” You asked once, quiet as a mouse. Your confidence was quickly diminishing now that your orgasm subsided and your anxieties returned.

Jimin takes a long moment to catch his breath and collect himself, still holding you in his arms as if he never wanted to let you go in the first place. And truthfully, he doesn’t want to. Doesn’t have to…

“You did so well, little lamb.” He purrs as he places a, surprisingly, gentle kiss with his pillowy lips against your clammy temple. His hands roam down to smooth his palms over the swell of your stomach, reassuring you that this indeed did please him to the max.

After another few minutes, his length finally went back to its original size, immediately feeling his cum seep out your hole. He pulls out, and the flood of his cum splattered against the floor. But it didn’t seem to faze him at all, instead his attention was set on you, feeling your stomach deflate with each passing second. He turned you around to face him, brushing the damp strand of hair away from your eyes as his features seemed to display nothing but gentle affection, his eyes almost disappearing into thin slits as he smiled. His tail wagged happily, and he decided to bring you in for a chaste kiss on the lips.

“My mate.” he breathes out as if it was a relief to finally have you. And it was, he’d been looking for somebody that would be his true mate for life, but believed he would simply be a lone wolf for eternity. But then you came along, as if destiny had thrown you (or rather, your friend threw you) into this place at this time, like a piece of meat for the alpha to claim.

#fic: the alpha #jimin smut #hybrid jimin #hybrid jimin smut #jimin x reader #jimin x female reader #jimin x you #jimin x yn #jimin x y/n #park jimin smut #bts smut #bts hybrid smut #sombreboy #ppersonna #hybridbtsnetwork

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after-witch · 4 years

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Adoration and Pain (Vampire!Yandere Overhaul x Reader)

Title: Adoration and Pain (Vampire!Yandere Overhaul x Reader)

Synopsis: You are his pure, sweet doe. His perfect angel. The most exquisite blood bank that a vampire, that Kai Chisaki, could ask for.

Word Count: 2243

Notes: yandere, vampire, descriptions of violence and mild gore, mentions of past suicide attempt

You sit on your bed, legs crossed, and take a calming breath. You remind yourself of the things that you know, the things that you can count on. It keeps you from panicking, it keeps you sedated while you wait for him to arrive.

The things that you know: It is night time. You are in your room. You are wearing a pale blue night gown, the one with a small blood stain on the lace wrist cuff that won’t come out. Kai will be coming soon.

You still know your name. You still remember, however dimly, what it was like to feel the sun on your skin, the glowing warmth of a summer day, the cool brightness of a cheery blue sky in the wintertime. Kai will be coming soon. You have no way of tracking time now, in the small suite he’s crafted for you, nor did he like you attempting to keep track of the days.

What is a day when you’ve lived hundreds of years, after all?

Kai will be coming soon.

Time is not a blip for you, though, poor mortal thing that you are; instead, the days--the nights, the nights--drag on endlessly, sometimes feeling like an exquisitely painful, delirious dream. Grounding yourself when you wake up is the only way to keep things from completely blurring together, keeping things separate enough to maintain sanity.

He visits you every night to feed. To tear open your skin and drink the oozing life blood inside. Pure blood, he’d said, when he first took you away from everything you’d ever known. Sweet blood, clean, refreshing--the finest blood he’d ever tasted, and now that he’d tasted it, Kai Chisaki could not fathom anything less.

You were his endless dinner, providing sustenance night after night. Never mind the bruising, never mind the pain, never mind the sounds, those sickening slurps of your blood being feasted upon. Never mind the fear that still gripped you every time he removed his mask, revealing sharp, predatory fangs that could only be hidden by keeping his mouth shut tight--or by wearing a mask.

You know the rules, now. He’s never been so kind as to lay them out neatly, organized on parchment and ink, ready for you to read and repeat until they’re drummed into your pretty little brain. But he’s expected you to know them, nonetheless. They’ve been learned night by night, in a repetition of a different kind. You used to scream and fight and claw, beast-like.

That was ages ago, when you still had the strength, physically and otherwise. Before you’d become a paler, fragile thing that gets dizzy, sometimes, when you stand up too quickly. Before you learned the rules, and before you’d learned that obeying him made your life a little easier. Not by much, no, not by much. But a little was an enormous thing in the existence you’d been trapped in.

He keeps you in nightgowns. White ones, pastel ones, with lace and frills, all in the softest of fabrics that feel like a dream against your skin. They must have cost a fortune. You’d said as much once, and he merely smiled at you patronizingly. “Such things aren’t appropriate for ladies to talk about,” he’d said, and you never brought it up again.

You sleep during the day. Or what you assume must be the day, for it is when he leaves you. You are not afforded the luxury of windows. He can’t take the risk, you see, of you accidentally forgetting to close the curtains. Not that you would ever, ever try to kill him, of course. You were pure and sweet and a doe, a lamb, the sweetest thing on hell or Earth.

Sometimes, when he murmurs these things against your wrist, your own blood and flesh brimming against his darkened lips, you wonder if he’s genuinely forgotten how you used to behave. You were not a pure and sweet doe when you’d broken the rail of your bed and tried to stake him with it. You were not a lamb when you broke your mirror and used the glass to stab him, or when you’d found a forgotten shard underneath your bed and sliced your wrists open in an unsuccessful bid to end it all. Both earned punishments, the second more so--you’d tried to deprive him of your sweetness, your purity, your beauty. A terrible thing to do, for someone like him, someone so everlasting and lonely. And hungry.

That was, however, in the past. Weeks ago or months or maybe years. You don’t know, and you know better than to ask--except sometimes when you’re delirious from blood loss and forget yourself. He’s forgiving of those slip-ups, most of the time. You even have a new mirror, and every morning--night, you remind yourself--before he arrives, you get dressed in a fresh nightgown and brush your hair in front of it.

Which is what you must do now. You slowly put your legs over the side of the bed, rising carefully. You don’t want to pass out on the floor. Once your mind steadies, you make your way over to the large, immovable chest pressed against the wall of your room. You open it, relishing the cool smell of wood that accompanies the ancient creak of the hinges. Inside are your night-gowns and under-linens. You lift up a delicate nightgown made with white muslin; it’s trimmed in exquisite lace and has a ruffled trim that ends at your ankles. You grab an accompanying chemise to slip on underneath.

The curtain on the mirror is there to keep you sane, whenever he feeds. He has no reflection, a fact which used to make you cross yourself; once, it had slipped off while he greedily drank down your blood, and the sight of wounds pulsing out gore like magic had made you pass out. You cautiously slide it over, letting it fall to the ground with a theatrical flourish.

You stand in front of the mirror, slip off your worn gown and under-dress and set them aside. You don’t pay your naked body, thinner and paler like the rest of you, much mind; instead you swiftly change into your fresh clothes, wanting to be ready for his arrival. You smooth down the fabric with your hands, then lean over inside the chest to grab your brush.

Your hair is longer than you like it, which makes it tangle and twist terribly; but he likes it long, so you don’t dare ask to cut it. But you make do, patiently unweaving the tangles from all the tossing and turning you do at night. The strands feel a bit greasy, and a pang of anxiety plagues you--you should have bathed before going to sleep the night before. He likes you to be presentable. You wonder if you have time to wash your hair, at least, but the unmistakable steps coming up the stairs answer your query for you: there is no time.

Thump, thump, thump. You rush, awash in dizziness as you quickly toss your things inside the trunk and swiftly lean down to replace the fallen curtain. Thump, thump, thump. Your head is still reeling by the time you climb back onto your bed, pulling your legs up and curling them to the side. You take a few gulping breaths to calm yourself, just in time to hear the large, heavy door to your suite unlocking.

Before you were taken captive by a vampire, you imagined them to all wear fantastical cloaks, dull and dusty from mausoleums and nights spent roaming the earth. You imagined them to have bat-like ears and claws. You would never think him a vampire, to look at him. He has tousled black hair and striking eyes. He wears a refined, yet simple, suit. It’s only when he takes off the mask and speaks--when those fangs, hidden and terrible--reveal themselves, that his true nature becomes evident.

Tonight, like all nights, he locks the door behind him after he enters. You don’t have the strength to run, even if you could imagine escaping from this place. But it’s a habit, you think, long-ingrained in an immortal creature.

He approaches the bed with a calm, almost soothing demeanor. “Did you sleep well? Are you hungry?”

Pleasantries, pleasantries. Spoken so softly and sweetly. He sits down on the bed next to you, and you nod. You wonder if your eyes are as wide as they feel. Maybe that’s why he calls you a doe, a lamb. You tremble before him like an animal to the slaughter--only your slaughter never ends with death, only with pain and nightmares and fever dreams.

His hand reaches up to pet your cheek. It feels cold and stiff to the touch. “I’ll bring you dinner later, pet.” His hand strokes your cheek, and you imagine it would feel comforting, if it didn’t feel so clammy. You lean your cheek into his touch, as you’ve learned to do. “Such a good girl for me, aren’t you?”

You nod again. He likes it when you are quiet and compliant and meek. He’s said so, and you believe him, for it is your quiet and compliant behavior that earned you new things; books and a silver hair brush and even a necklace, gold and rimmed with blood-red rubies, though he’d yet to give you anything but nightgowns to wear it with.

His hand travels from your cheek, down your jawline. You shiver as he traces a healing, bruising wound on your neck. He continues his exploration of your body, roaming hands ghosting against your breasts and then down, down to your thighs. You tremble, and he smiles.

“Hand me your wrist.” Your arm raises without a thought. Memories of pain and terror and screams flood through you, heating up your skin and making your heartbeat thrum. He rolls the sleeves of your nightgown back, and a small part of you is thankful--it’s such a nice dress, and you’d have to have it spoiled with blood.

Kai lifts your wrist until it rests against his cold cheeks. He presses his nose against the thin, ever-bruising skin, against the blue veins that wait underneath. He groans, softly, inhaling your scent and feeling the warmth of the life flowing through you.

“So pure,” he murmurs. “So precious.” His lips part, revealing the eager fangs behind him.

“All mine…”

Holding your wrist in one hand, he brings his mouth closer, opening wide and then biting into the soft flesh with a sickening sound.

You hold your breath. You don’t want to scream, you don’t want to--

But the pain floods you, as it does every night, and you cry out anyway. You moan in pain, and it merely makes him moan in return. His grip is unrelenting as he eagerly begins to drink, sucking blood and even bits of flesh into his mouth with practiced ease. The sensation of his tongue lapping inside the gory wound makes your stomach churn.

Your wrist feels like it is being stabbed in a thousand different ways; burned and dissected and pounded by a hammer. You forget yourself and look away from the sight of Kai feasting on you, the sight of your blood smearing down his chin.

“Mind your manners,” he says quietly against your open wound. You look back instantly, feeling weary and slightly dizzy and tired. You hope he will be done soon. You don’t want to pass out again. You want something to eat. You want to stay up late enough to read a few pages in a book, if your eyesight isn’t too blurry.

Your vision does blur, for a moment, and when it returns Kai is running a sharpened nail down your wrist. It burns, as it always does, but it heals the gaping wound with barely a trace of a scar. Nothing can be done about the bruising, the blue and grey and green mottled skin that takes ages to fade away. He usually bites the same spot again before those can properly heal.

You let out a shuddering cry of relief as he finishes, as he lifts his fingers--now warm, thrumming with your secondhand life running through them--and wipes away your tears. His fingers stroke your cheek again, leaving behind a smear of your own blood, and this time you lean into his hand without effort.

“Such a precious thing you are, such a delicate thing.”

You nod, barely listening, thinking instead to the promise of a dinner, the promise of a few pages in a book. You will never leave. He’s made sure of that, weakening you in mind and body. You will be here as long as he’s hungry. As long as he needs to feed. And he will always need to feed. You will never leave.

#yandere overhaul #vampire au #vampires #yandere #kai chisaki x reader #afterwitch writes

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atruththatyoudeny · 4 years

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Happy 28th! I’ve read so many awesome fics this month! Make sure to check them all out. As always, all my love to all the authors in this fandom ♥

➻ don't want to fight you | starryharry | enemies to lovers - enemies to friends to lovers - pining - mutual pining - angst - fluff slow burn - no smut - 124k Louis hates that it’s familiar. He hates that sparring Harry is familiar because they train together. He hates that he even has to spar Harry at all, because Harry is good. Louis wonders what his life would be like if him and Harry didn’t hate each other. He can’t picture it, really. The incessant bickering that often turns into real arguing, the nasty looks, the eye rolls, the middle fingers. It all feels very necessary at this point. Or, the one where two fighters can also be lovers because routines are never permanent.

➻ we are ghosts amongst these hills | louisgaynkles | Soulmates - reincarnation - historical - slow burn - angst - fluff - 84k Harry spontaneously buys a house in Yorkshire because the universe, or fate, keeps leading him to it. What he didn’t know, is that his new house comes with a past that seems to be mysteriously tied to his own life. Before he knows it he finds himself travelling back in time, stuck in the middle of a century old love story. Featuring Louis as a farmer with a passion for gardening, Zayn as the heir to the local manor, Niall as a pub owner with a secret, and a truly underappreciated Liam. Based on Mariana by Susanna Kearsley

➻ through the wheatfields and the coastlines | thepolourryexpress | farms - cowboys - angst - implied/referenced homophobia - implied/referenced gun use - humor - smut - 53k “You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through. “I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.” Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

➻ An Irrationally Strong Bond Between Two People | jishler | dystopia - friends to lovers - angst - first time - 18k Before The Advancement, most human lives and careers were plagued by irrationality and a lack of productivity. This was largely the symptom of what scientists refer to as “interpersonal passion,” which included two separate (though often conjointly occurring) phenomena: “love,” and “sex.” “Love” was a pre-Advancement word which referred to an irrationally strong bond between two people, which caused its sufferers to prioritise their fellow “lover,” as well as the integrity of the malignant bond itself, over vital things such as workplace productivity. Taken every two weeks in pill form, The Drug immediately removes interpersonal passion from the human psyche. Children’s friendships do not have the capacity to develop into full-fledged “love” since they are not yet adults. Every person over eighteen takes The Drug gladly, grateful that it allows them to be productive, clear-headed, and rational members of society. A few weeks before Louis’ eighteenth birthday, Harry and Louis fall in love. (Based on the book Louis writes in indiaalphawhiskey's Our Lives, Non-Fiction.)

➻ And When It's Time | larryftnoctrl | Soulmates - soulmate-identifying timers - 6k Louis wants a soulmate, Harry loves his free will. They don't exactly go hand in hand. Prompt: AU where you have a countdown on your wrist for when you're going to meet your soulmate and if you miss it the time will reset. Louis/Harry keep having awful luck and always are missing their time until one day they don't. Maybe the other one is scared/has anxiety about meeting their soulmate? Maybe one time they're in a relationship so they intentionally miss their time? Who knows! But they finally meet :D

➻ made for lovin' you | cuddlerlouis | a/b/o - enemies to lovers - hate to love - soulmates - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff smut - 53k “I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right. “For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure. “Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something. “I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.” “Noted.” So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat. Splendid. - Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

➻ deFENCEless | solvetheminourdreams | neighbors - enemies to lovers enemies to friends to lovers - gardening - fluff - humor - banter - no smut - 27k "I moved here first," Louis says with finality, crossing his arms over his chest. Harry shoots him an unimpressed look before leaning forward, leaving only a tiny gap between them. "Then get the fence first," he whispers, lips a mere inch or two away from Louis'. When Louis butts heads with his new neighbor who loves to garden a little too much, all he can do to protect his yard (and heart), is keep on building up his fence(s).

➻ Canyon Moon | delsicle | a/b/o - werewolf - soulmates - childhood friends - friends to lovers - arranged marriage - mutual pining - hurt/comfort - angst - 41k For as long as Louis has remembered, he has been promised to be mated to Harry, his best friend and the future pack alpha. But Louis’s heart belonged to the forest and to the hunt more than he could ever imagine it belonging to Harry. Then Harry’s father dies in a violent accident, and Louis’s future alpha disappears on the wind. An A/B/O Lion King AU

➻ only guilty of loving you | sweetrevenge | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - blind date - soulmates - fluff - angst - mutual pining - smut - 22k After Harry gets set up with his co-worker's alpha friend Louis, he's expecting some pleasant conversation, free dinner, and maybe a new friend. What he doesn't expect, however, is that Louis' arrival in his life begins a life of crime Harry never knew he had in him. A You've Got Mail!AU with a twist.

➻ 'Til Everything Changes | lovelarry10 | a/b/o - older characters - brokend bond - loss - falling in love - fluff - implied mpreg - smut - 57k Harry’s nose twitched as he caught a scent on the breeze, one that sent a shudder through his whole body. His eyes closed subconsciously, and he lost himself in the heady scent, the vanilla top notes, and the more woody undertones, making every hair on Harry’s body stand on end. That was how Harry discovered this man was an Alpha. “Jaz, Harry, this is my Uncle Louis. Lou, this is my girlfriend Jasmine, and her dad Harry.” "Lovely to meet you,” Louis grinned, leaning in and kissing Jasmine’s cheek quickly, a respectful Alpha gesture. Harry held his breath as Louis stuck out a hand, taking it almost reluctantly, certain the Alpha would pick up on his own scent and the nerves flowing through it. “Hi, Harry.” “Hi,” Harry said, his voice low and raspy, still affected by Louis’ scent. “Nice to meet you.” ~~~~ Harry’s an Omega who has been alone for too long. Louis’ an Alpha who is scared to find love again. Thanks to the meddling of Harry’s teenage daughter and her boyfriend, the two seem destined to meet, and it might just change everything they thought they knew about their lives. Will they find what they didn’t realise they’ve always wanted in each other?

➻ Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | youreyesonlarry | ice hockey - hurt/comfort - angst - fluff - major character injury - pining - unrequited love hospitalization - smut - 74k It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day. -------- Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire

➻ Rooms on Fire | softfonds | a/b/o - actors - famous/famous - friends with benefits - secret relationship - 34k Ten years ago, Louis helping Harry through a heat was the start of a romance that ended in heartbreak. Now, Harry's marriage is over thanks to his husband's very public infidelity, and Louis is fresh off a Golden Globe win. The last thing they both expect is to be cast in the same movie.

➻ Stumbling Into Your Arms | sunshineandthemoonlight | a/b/o - strangers to lovers - college/university - fluff - 7k Suddenly, Harry’s nose was brushing against Louis' neck, where his scent was overwhelming. Harry jerked his head to the side and took a deep breath of air, trying to clear his nose of Louis’ scent. ‘Don’t get slick, don’t get hard, don’t get slick’, he repeated to himself in his head, like a mantra. Louis and Harry are university students heading home for the holidays. Harry quickly becomes enraptured by the attractive alpha standing across from him in the train carriage, who has a heavenly scent and a gentle smile.

➻ Little by Little | nonsensedarling | mpreg - non traditional a/b/o - exploring sexuality - exploring secondary gender norms - gender identity strangers to friends to lovers - mutual pining - fluff - slow burn - 65k Harry Styles is an omega who works at the London Planetarium, has lived in the same flat for ages, and is happy enough on his own. When he gets home from his first (horrible) attempt at dating in years, a new pregnant neighbor knocks on his door after smelling his cooking. He and Louis quickly become close, but their friendship gets complicated when Harry begins questioning who he is and what he likes. Or Harry discovers figuring out who you are is more complicated than a potato metaphor.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #monthly reads #monthly fic rec #my reads #larry fics #completed fics

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