#i will get some rest as well for the cold as well

[ctrlhope]

The Pitfalls of Silk (m)

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

p.jimin x f.reader

⋆𐙚┊: wc: 20.0k

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

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

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

18+ -> minors / blank blogs dni

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bang.

What the fuck was that?

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

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

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

Human.

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

The room, it freezes over.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He sees you before you see him.

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

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

Just as petrified as you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Holy shit he must be frozen solid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Don’t notice the recognition on his face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s okay.”

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

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

Mate. Mate. Mate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve fallen a lot farther than you thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You frown.

“Min, I’m so sorry…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jimin makes it so easy to pretend.

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

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

You shake your head, “what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He can.

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

You have to buy those glasses.

Being a spider is just too difficult!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

At least, that’s what he tells you.

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

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

It always works. Always will.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe you’re over thinking things.

Yeah. It’s probably that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He’ll win it soon. August.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s what he promises to himself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Autumn is mating season.” Your thumbs stutter.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Or maybe they hated you and wanted you to suffer.

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

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

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

You think you might hate them.

You sigh.

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

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

“Mmm mm, got lucky with you Min.”

August 11th.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Gorgeous, gorgeous you.

Mate.

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

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

Wait, does he have your love yet?

Now he isn’t sure.

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

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

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

Wait, spider.

Spider.

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

He hasn’t even presented his web yet.

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

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

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

He isn’t Taehyung. He isn’t Taehyung.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He hadn’t even noticed it.

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

Leave. Leave. Leave.

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

Leave. He needs to leave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You are.

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

And so you do.

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

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

Shit.

He needs to leave.

Got carried away in his fantasy. In pretending again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’re sick of it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He doesn’t. He never would.

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

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

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

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

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

You will always fall to the likes of Jimin.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay.”

He holds your hand as you walk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You almost want to curl up in it yourself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh.

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

You’re… you’re Jimin’s mate?

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

You’re an idiot.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Only him.

Only Jimin.

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

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

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

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

His spider is winning.

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

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

His spider has won.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tie you up. Breed full.

Breed you.

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

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

See exactly how you struggle against the strings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You’ve both done enough waiting.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I love you.”

“Y/n! Hurry up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The human way is never easy for him.

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

“Hybrid’s do it different?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

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

#jimin x reader #jimin smut #bts x reader #bts smut #bts #jimin #park jimin #park jimin x reader #yandere bts #yandere jimin #hybrid bts #hybrid jimin #jimin x you #jimin x y/n #hybrid bts smut #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts oneshot #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts hybrid au #jimin fanfic #jimin fic #bangtan x reader #bangtan #bangtan smut #🖇️ ctrl.the pitfalls of silk

[punkshort]

What did a day in the life look like for Joel & reader, during the peak of their relationship, before her accident?❤️‍🩹💘

Never Enough

An I Know Who You Are drabble

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: smut (18+ MDNI), fluff

WC: ~800

A/N: At the peak of their relationship, they were very soft for one another. It took a while for them both to get there, each of them pretty hardened by their own traumas. So when reader lost her memory and Joel had to start over with her, he took it really hard but tried to hide it as best he could. Obviously, suppressing his feelings didn't work out too well but let's take a look back at a simpler time.

Joel usually woke up before you, his internal clock way too finely tuned to allow himself to sleep in. You normally didn't like to sleep touching him because he ran hot as it was, but if it was winter and you were cold you always found your way into his nook.

Coffee was a must for both of you in the mornings. Most of the time you barely spoke on the days you had patrol until you had at least half a cup of coffee in your systems. You didn't like heavy breakfasts but you needed something or else you got too lightheaded, so you kept it simple. Maybe some fruit or a piece of toast. And if you were making yourself something, you always made sure to make some for Joel, too, because he was terrible at taking care of himself.

You didn't mind. You actually liked taking care of him.

On the way to the barn you would talk about which routes you were assigned that day, or you would ask how his back was feeling, or he would ask how you slept the night before.

Always before parting ways, you would make sure to kiss him. You never rushed that part because you never took a single day for granted.

It was rare you got paired up for patrol together. Both of you were seasoned and your roles were to mentor the younger groups, so typically you were paired with someone greener.

Whoever got back first always waited for the other to return, then you would walk back home together. Usually it was in the afternoon so sometimes you cleaned up around the house while Joel restocked the fireplace with wood. Sometimes you would go to the warehouse and restock your pantry, other times you would help Maria watch Violet.

Depending on the day, you might go to the dining hall with Ellie, but if you were particularly tired or if Joel didn't feel like being around people (which was often), you would stay home and cook something together.

Usually both of you ached after a few days of patrol in a row, so sometimes you took a bath together. He would sit between your legs and rest his back against your chest while you washed his hair. His eyes would close as he got lost in the feeling of your nails gently massaging his scalp, all the stress and tension melting away under your touch. He would skirt his fingers lazily over your soft curves under the water, making you shudder. He adored being the one to get those reactions from you.

Admittedly, your sex life wasn't as wild as when you first met. Over the years it became more intense and loving rather than frantic and needy. He made sure you felt every inch of him while he dragged in and out of you, slow and deep, pulling the sweetest sounds from your throat. Little whispers of his name in his ear, murmurs of I love you against his throat, whines warning him you were close and don't stop and you feel so good.

No matter how many times he fucked you, it was never enough. Each time set his heart on fire. The feel of your soft skin under his rough hands, the taste of your wet heat all over his mouth and beard, the feel of your hips grinding against his while you bounced on his cock. He never felt more close to you than in those moments where he was buried deep inside you, doing everything in his power to make you feel good and give you everything you needed. He loved watching you fall apart, your perfect face contorting in pleasure before you stilled and your eyebrows relaxed with a sigh. He loved the feel of your cunt squeezing him when you came, fluttering and pulsing around him. It always brought his own orgasm to the surface within seconds, pulling out of you feverishly, usually without a moment to spare, and spilling his release all over your thighs or ass or stomach or breasts.

Afterwards, he would clean you up, but he would be lying if he said he didn't take a moment first to admire the way you looked: all satiated and relaxed and covered with his spend.

You curled up against him and wrapped your arm around his stomach while his hands wandered over your shoulders and back, soothing you to sleep with kisses pressed into your hair.

You brought out a softnes in him. No one else got to see that side of him. He reserved that just for you.

#anon ask #ask #ikwya fic #drabble

[songmingisthighs]

[12.33] poly!golden retriever!yunho × black lab!mingi × reader

⇀ where your pup boyfriends are just so... them...

⇁ @khjcs LOOK WHAT YOU DID AMY and @starlitmark I MADE IT QIEBDJDND

genre : hybrid!au, poly!au

wc : 1.1k

Usually you'd spend the weekend just lounging around, being lazy with your two overgrown pups of boyfriends but unfortunately you had errands to run because work took up the majority of your time on the weekdays so all appointments had to be pushed to Saturday and Sunday.

Though your boyfriends are golden retriever and black labrador hybrids, you were the one who woke up first at the sound of your alarm. But as you moved to turn your alarm off, an arm snaked around your waist and a face was nuzzled into your stomach affectionately.

"What are you doing?" Yunho grumbled as he tightened his grip around your body. You cursed at yourself silently for not being careful when you reached over Yunho to get to your phone. "Sorry Yuyu, go back to sleep," you hushed him, patting his head gently to lull him back to sleep which seem to work because his eyes fluttered his eyes close and his grip around you loosen. With Yunho back asleep, you carefully get out of the bed but still managing to accidentally nudge Mingi's leg slightly, causing his ears to twitch and head shot up in alert. He said nothing as he blinked confusedly at you but after some time of you and he just staring at each other in silence, his eyes drooped and he fell back asleep. With that, you were able to escape and take a shower.

It didn't take long for you to shower but when you opened the bathroom door, you nearly shrieked and slipped when you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriends in the hallway. Yunho was sat with his back on the wall and Mingi had his head on Yunho's lap, fast asleep while Yunho's eyes opened at the sound of you coming out of the bathroom.

"What are you two doing here? You should be in bed," you pouted, crouching down in front of the two to cup Yunho's face in your hands. He smiled and shook his head, "I wanna see you before you leave," then Yunho looked down momentarily at Mingi, "He said he doesn't like the cold bed," and you chuckled at that because it was so incredibly a Mingi thing to say. But still, your boyfriends needed more rest because of their own jobs and you would prefer to see them well rested. So you stood up and motioned for Yunho to grab your hands so you could pull him up and with the movement, Mingi slowly stood up and pressed his face onto your shoulder, having to bend his body due to the height difference and the fact that he was barely conscious. "Back to bed," he mumbled, tugging you along to your shared bedroom only to hear you chuckle and felt you shaking your head, "No baby, you go back to sleep with Yunho, I have somewhere to go to," you patted him on the back as you waved Yunho close to your huddle. Yunho happily wrapped his arms around you and Mingi and you couldn't help but giggle when you got a peek of their wagging tails. "I'll be back sometime later so you boys get some rest, don't forget to eat, be good, and I'll see you soon, okay?"

Once you saw them nod at your words (Yunho with understanding and Mingi with sadness), you gave them both long kisses on their heads and shooed them back into your shared room, patting their butts affectionately before leaving the apartment once they were settled and you were fully ready to go.

The whole time you were gone doing your errands, you couldn't help but kept a look into your home CCTV from time to time, curious at what the boys were doing. At 10:27, Yunho emerged from the room and immediately planted his butt on the couch, trying to regain some consciousness. At 10:43, Mingi joined Yunho in the living room but instead of sitting on the couch, he spread his blanket and plopped a pillow that looked suspiciously a lot like yours and laid in the middle of it. Then at 11:38, you saw that Yunho and Mingi were lying side by side in the little blanket nest that looked a bit messier than before, talking about what they were going to do until you come back home. At 12:49, you looked into the living room CCTV only to find your boyfriends missing but as you moved the camera, you saw Yunho heating up the leftovers from last night and just as you were about to look for Mingi, his face popped up in the whole frame, almost causing you to drop your phone and scream in public. "I KNOW YOU'RE THERE LOOKING AT US (Y/N) COME BACK HOME, COME BACK HOME NOW PLEASE I WANT YOU HOME, I NEED YOU HOME," he yelled into the camera before getting pushed aside by Yunho who grinned happily at the camera, "Don't mind him baby! You go do your stuff, okay? I miss you! I love you! We're gonna have lunch soon!" It was a good thing that you got a camera that allows you to talk into it because you could see the food he was heating on the stove was starting to smoke and both of your boyfriends were still too focused with the camera. "Yunho, baby! The food!" Thankfully, Yunho zoomed to tend to the food and Mingi got distracted by the chaos so you were able to leave them be.

Your errands ended at around 2 pm and by 2.31, you were already walking back into the apartment.

"I'm home!" You called out as you took off your shoes and by the time your shoe was neatly stored, you heard heavy pads of feet getting louder before you were suddenly pulled into a warm embrace and spun around. Though you were busy squealing and giggling, you were still able to identify that it was Yunho who had greeted you first.

"You're back! You're home!" He said happily as he placed you down and began peppering your face with kisses. If all the affection and skinship didn't make you giddy, surely seeing his tail wagging nonstop with such power that you thought it was going to create a tornado.

Upon letting you go, Yunho stuck by your side quietly, tailing after you as you grab a drink from the fridge, helping you grab a mug and just let you have your time before settling down with you on the couch. As soon as your ass hit the cushion and you finished taking a gulp, Yunho pulled you into his arms and nuzzled your cheek with his.

"I'm so glad you're back now," he sighed happily, like the lovesick... well, puppy he is. You chuckled and patted his fluffy hair in return of his very adorable confession, "I'm glad to be home too, Yuyu. I sae you heating up lunch so I assume you and Mingi had eaten?" He nodded, still not letting go of you, "So what have you two been doing?" "Gaming mostly. Actually, Mingi is-"

As if on cue, your other boyfriend came out of the room designated for his and Yunho's gaming and other nerd things (that you lowkey took pride of as well), grumbling and stomping until he flopped down on the floor with his face on the ground. He looked adorable with his flopped ears and limp tail, seemingly trying to become one with the hardwood floor in his despair.

"I miss (y/n), I miss (y/n), I miss (y/n), I miss (y/n), I miss (y/n), I miss (y/n), GOD, I miss (y/n)," he babbled to himself, not realizing that you had came home. You tried suppressing your laughter while Yunho raised an eyebrow at him, "What are you talking about?" Mingi huffed as he proceeded to lift his upper body from the floor, adjusting his own body position to glare at Yunho only to realize that you were sitting on the couch, looking at him with such fond eyes. "(Y/N)!" he screeched before practically leaping into your arms, carelessly throwing his body on you and Yunho who got kneed in the stomach. His scolds towards Mingi fell on deaf ears because despite being nagged that he should have been more careful, Mingi was too busy trying to fit himself in your lap while smothering you with kisses as he told you time and time again how much he missed you.

Never would you have ever known that being suffocated to death with affection was better than, well, anything else. And you have your two excitable boyfriends to thank.

network :

@cultofdionysusnet @sandsofire @kflixnet @pirateeznet

taglist :

@kodzukein @phenomenalgirl9 @skzatzloveismonsterous @memorymonster @surveilenceysystem @dreamlesswonder86 @maddiebabyxoxo @imababywolf @do-you-actually-care @marievllr-abg @ilsedingsx @wasteitonserendipity @bbymatz @noonaishere @honeyhwaaa @ateezourstars @yoonjunshi @yoongiigolden @camillelafaye @charreddonuts @kpopnightingale @starryunho @atinct @mirror-juliet @hyuckilstan @jayb17 @kpoplover718 @haatohwa @x-bluee @erinaimeexx @blackb3ll @mingiholic @angelicyeo @vampcharxter @meowmeowminnie @marvelous-llama @kawennote09 @hongjoong-lovebot @stopeatread @spooo00oky @jwnghyuns @asjkdk @shinotani

#cultofdionysusnet #sandsofirenet #kflixnet #pirateeznet #ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez fanfic #ateez timestamps #ateez au #hybrid!ateez #hybrid!au #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop au #kpop scenario #kpop imagines #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #kpop timestamps #hybrid!kpop #yunho #ateez yunho #mingi #ateez mingi #yunho scenarios #mingi scenarios #smt timestamp

[mirage-aera]

•°. *࿐ Sick days || JH86

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Love Lost - Mac Miller, The Temper Trap

Synopsis: Sick days usually aren’t fun. Especially for Jack. He hates them. But you somehow always make it better.

Word count: 1.401

Masterlist

Am I watching the canucks game while writing this? Yes, and stressing over it

When they said that men are always the most dramatic when they catch the common cold, you didn’t believe them. You thought it was an exaggeration. But the way Jack has been acting the past three days? Yeah, it’s not an exaggeration. You’re both curing his cold while nursing your own headache. One that’s been a product of his whining. This man is acting as if he’s on his deathbed, a damsel in distress, a whiny little-. You love him, but you wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of sedating him for a day so that you could get some peace and quiet. You would like to know how Ellen handled him whenever he got sick. It’s almost unbearable.

“Babyyy?”

“Am I dying? It feels like I’m dying.”

“Everything hurts…”

“More medicine? I don’t need it. It’s disgusting.”

“Can you please get me a painkiller? I do need it…”

The need to hit him with a pan to knock him out for a few hours is concerningly high. You’re trying to be patient with him. He’s not feeling well, and not being active, those are things that he hates and you know that. You’re really trying to be patient with him. However, he makes it very hard to when he’s whining every other minute.

You hide yourself in the kitchen to make sure Jack will leave you alone for a minute. You absentmindedly stir canned chicken soup in a small pan. When it starts smoking you take it off the heat and grab a bowl. You pour the soup into the bowl and grab a spoon. You carefully walk to your bedroom with the bowl, a bottle of water, and a pill. You open the door a little wider and walk up to him. He sniffles but manages to crack out a small smile. “There you are. I missed you.” He says softly, making your heart melt. Sick as ever and he still manages to make butterflies flutter. “I was only gone for a minute.” You say gently as you place the bottle and pill on his nightstand. You hold out the bowl of soup. He grimaces at the sight of it. You give him a stern look. “You need to eat something. Otherwise, you won’t get better. And make sure you take a pill after or while you eat.” You can’t help but fuss over him a bit.

He groans in response but takes the bowl from you. He starts eating at a slow pace. You sit by his bedside and watch him eat. Pale, sweaty face, hair pointing in all sorts of directions, and yet he still is so handsome to you. He notices that you’re staring and glances at you. He lets out a raspy chuckle. “There’s nothing noteworthy to stare at right now.” You smile and move his hair out of his face. It’s starting to become a little long again. “There’s plenty to stare at. You’ll always be pretty in my eyes.” His eyes shine at your comment. “Pretty?” He asks with amusement in his voice. You roll your eyes but can’t help but let a grin creep up your face. “Sorry. Handsome.” He smiles triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”

He soon finishes his bowl of soup. You take it from him and set it aside. You hand him the bottle of water and the small white pill. He takes it from you. You notice how clammy his hands are. You frown as you watch him down the pill followed by big gulps of water. You place the back of your hand against his forehead. Your frown deepens when you feel how warm he still is. He knows better than to fight you back so he lets you do your thing. “Your fever is not letting up. You should get some more rest. That might help.” You say softly. He nods and slides underneath the blankets. He pulls it up to his chin. You gently run a hand through his hair. “I’ll be in the living room. Just holler if you need me.” You say softly. Although, you’re secretly hoping he’ll sleep for a couple of hours. For both of your sakes. “Alright.” He croaks before shutting his eyes. You watch over him until you’re sure he’s fallen asleep. You get up carefully and make your way to the living room.

***

Time passes by quickly when you’re finally able to relax. You check the time on your phone only to realize Jack has been sleeping for a while now. You get up from the couch and quietly walk back towards your bedroom. You peek your head in only to see Jack snoring away without a care in the world. You smile at the sight, happy that he’s getting some rest. You realize that the blanket has slipped down a little. You carefully walk up to him and tuck him back in. You tuck the sides underneath him. Tightly wrapping him up in the blanket. He looks like a burrito. A 5’11 burrito.

You step back and take in the sight. You let out a quiet snicker. You pull out your phone and take a picture. Saving that for later. You look at him one more time before leaving the room and going back to the couch. You throw yourself down onto the couch and look at the picture you’ve taken. You snort. Jack’s going to kill you for sure once he finds out. You send it to the Hughes brothers group chat that Jack has ever so kindly thrown you into.

Another hour passes as you’re peacefully watching something on the television. You laugh at the conversation going on in the group chat. You hear some rustling from the bedroom. You’re about to get up when you hear a hoarse holler. “Baby!” You chuckle, “yeah bub?” He lets out a loud groan. “You did not send that picture in the group chat!” You let out a laugh and make your way towards him. You snicker when you see his phone in his hand. The group chat is still open. “I did. It was way too hilarious to pass up. You were like a burrito. Or should I say a Jackrito? One of a kind.” He pouts at you. “Really? A Jackrito? Was that necessary?” He asks, almost offended by your shenanigans. You snicker. “Yes. It’s funny.” He crosses his arms and huffs. “I don’t find you very amusing right now.” He retorts before he gets into a coughing fit. You pat his back, helping him through it. “You’ll find it amusing when you get better.” He glares at you and shakes his head. He stops coughing. “You’re still in trouble. Don’t forget that, because I certainly won’t.” You let out a snort. “Whatever you say bub.” You look at him affectionately. You suddenly get a great idea. “I should send the picture to your mom.” His eyes widen at what you said. “No!” He exclaims. You burst out into laughter. He huffs and pulls the blanket over him. “I’m glad you are having fun while I’m dying.” You roll your eyes. “Now you’re being dramatic again. For the millionth time, you are not dying Jack. You simply have the common cold.” He lets out a raspy chuckle. He lifts the blanket slightly and pulls you into him. He covers you both with the blanket. “It feels like I’m dying, especially when you aren’t around.” You can’t help but smile at that, despite his theatrics. You can feel yourself getting tired. Even though it isn’t that late yet. The warmth he’s emitting is so comforting. You let yourself fall asleep in his arms.

***

A week later he’s back on his feet. But he transferred his germs to you. You’re as sick as a dog. He walks into your bedroom with a bowl of soup in his hands. “This will make you feel better.” You glare at him. He laughs, “are you still mad at me for getting you sick?” You nod, “what do you think?” He snickers and sets the bowl aside. He sits by your side and rubs your arm tenderly. “I said sorry baby. But…” he trails off. He shows you a cheeky grin. “It’s only the common cold. Don’t be so dramatic. You still want to hit him with a pan. “I hate you.” He rolls his eyes before planting a kiss on your forehead. “I love you too. Get better soon, okay?”

#hockey #nhl #nhl fic #nhl hockey #nhl players #nhl x reader #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes one shot #jack hughes imagine #jh86 #new jersey devils #nj devils #blurb #drabble #fluff

[wosoluver]

Cruel Summer

tw: suggestive content

Andrea x Real madrid player!reader

You and Andrea weren't foreign to each other.

You were a striker for Real Madrid, she was an Atletico de Madrid's defender.

So not foreign at all.

And every time you were around each other it was dangerous territory.

Very harsh attitude inside the pitch.

Never worried about meeting else where anyways.

But it was summer. And you and a group of other players settled on going to Mykonos. Hot weather, cold drinks, great parties. What could go wrong?

Everything.

You only realized Andrea was part of the group along with Lola and Cris, when you arrived at the airport.

You trusted Cardona and Misa to make good decisions, about where you were going and with whom.

You tried to keep calm. What's the worst that could happen? Well...

The first day was fine. Drinks by the pool, some catching up with tanning, and you, torturing yourself by staring down the girl you were sure hated your guts. But you couldn't help it. She was definitely your type. Taller than you, blonde, blue eyes. And an attitude.

At first you tried to be subtle, but soon realized two things.

One, everyone was too busy doing their own thing to even notice.

Two, it seemed you weren't the only one who was liking what they were seeing.

You were bathing in the sun by the pool, when you noticed her swim your way. She rested herself next to you, arms over the edge of the pool.

"Aren't you already hot enough?" - she questioned rhetorically in a low tone. But you had no reaction other than to stare at her handsome pair of blue eyes.

She slowly dropped some of the pool water over your back. And spread it out.

"Better?" - she asked with a smirk.

"Yeah." - what had got into you? Why did become so shy all of the sudden?

She was kissing your neck wildly. And you begged her for more. As she trailed down, passing in between your breasts, but stoping just below your belly button, teasing you.

Her kisses were delicious. And you were reveling in those hot breaths she would leave in between them.

"Andrea... pleas-"

And that's all it took for her to give you what you wanted most. You wished this night never ended.

But it did, as you woke up. Sweaty and warm, as you realized that was nothing more, than a dream over your desires.

'Fever dream high in the quiet of the night'

"Good morning sleeping beauty. Thought you weren't going to wake up." - Said Marta as she poured you a cup of coffee.

"You look like you slept well." - said Medina with a devilish smile on her face.

"I did actually. I slept very well." - there was the confidence you thought you had lost the day before.

"I can tell." - she replied like she knew.

But that was only a wet dream, right?

"Didn't know you needed a vacation that bad." - said Misa, chiming in innocently.

In truth, you were the only ones who were taking this down a different road.

"Lola and Cris are waiting for us at the beach. Get some breakfast and get ready, we leave soon."

"Yes, mom." - you said at the older woman.

As both Marta and Misa left the room, Andrea jumped at the opportunity of messing with you.

"Do you have a mommy kink?"

And you chocked on the bite you had taken from your toast.

"Andrea!"

"You didn't deny, so that's an yes." - she said walking out and leaving you with your thoughts.

And you thought you were managing your feelings well. Until you made your way back from a day at the beach, so you could get ready to go out at night.

You had failed to notice the bathroom's private balcony was connected to Andrea's. It was only while you were showering, you noticed her sitting down on a chair outside. She wasn't looking at you, she didn't want to be disrespectful. But she did steal a few glances.

"You don't need to pretend you're not looking, you know."

And this time it was you who caught her by surprise.

"Noted for next time." - she tried playing cool. Although it wasn't really working, as you left her there, mouth watering as you walked away to get ready.

'Killing me slow, out the window'

Arriving at the club you tried your best not to lose each other, the place was packed. But you failed, you were all basically divided into duos.

You weren't complaining about being stuck with Andrea either.

Unknown to you this had been planned by the other girls.

They had taken notice, it's not like you were being secretive about it, anyways.

They made sure you had plenty time together that night.

"Hey where did they go?" she asked through the loud noise.

"I don't know, they were right behind us, but I lost them."

"It's fine, let's just stick together. We'll probably come across them later."

"Drinks?"

"Drinks!"

You had both lost count over the many drinks you shared. By now you two were pretty handsy on the dance floor. As you danced against her and she held your body as close as she could. If questioned she would probably blame on not wanting to lose you in the crowd. Which would be such a good excuse to hide her feelings behind.

'And it's new, the shape of your body'

Just thinking about the fact that, after getting back to work, she would have to put that rivalry back up, it made her stress.

She tried her best to convince herself, this was only fun and she had the right to get loose and enjoy herself.

She was aways good at keeping business and pleasure separated. Little did she know that these lines would only blur more, as the days went on.

'It's a cruel summer

with you.'

And you, you didn't want to worry about the consequences right now.

As the two of you headed back to the place you were staying, after giving up on finding the girls, and decided to just text them you were heading back.

She took no time undressing you by her bed, as she whispered sweet nothings into your ears. You had never enjoyed this kind of sex before. It was raw but at the same time passionate. It felt like your souls had looked for each other, all eternity, to finally be together.

You walked into the bathroom to get a hand towel damp under warm water.

You only hoped, to wake up next to her in the morning.

But you knew what it would cost to have your hopes up, as you made your way back to get her cleaned up.

'So cut the headlights, summer's a knife

I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone'

You weren't surprised to wake up to an empty bed. But it still hurt.

"Where is everyone?" you asked walking into the kitchen.

"Good morning to you too. They are outside by the pool." Answered Misa.

"Sorry, good morning."

"I thought you had fun last night, why are you pouting like that?"

"What?"

"Does it have anything to do with you and Medina?"

"No, no, I just have a hangover."

"So your gonna pretend nothing happened?"

"I'm not. Just didn't think you were so interested in my love, well sex life."

"Why not love life?"

"Really? This is just for fun. Once we're back in Madrid, work comes first."

"And your fine with that?"

"Yeah."

You said trying to convince yourself more than her.

'It's cool, that's what I tell 'em

No rules in breakable heaven'

Last day rolled around. You made your way to the airport. You naturally decided to seat together on the way back. You had gotten comfortable in your seat. But your mind was racing. Trying to wrap around this summer coming to an end. And along with it, your relationship.

If it could even be called that.

She laid her head on your shoulder. Cuddling up to you, to take a nap until you got home.

"Ready to go back?"

"Uhum, are you?"

"Yeah."

You thought she had fallen asleep after spending so long quiet, just breathing peacefully.

"I don't believe you."

"What do you want from me Medina?"

"Just be honest."

"Are you going to do the same? To me? To yourself?"

You waited for an answer but it never came. But you were already so out of the reach of better judgment, that you just broke down.

"I like you. More than just this. Is that what you want me to say?"

'I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you

And I scream for whatever it's worth

I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?'

It's a cruel summer.

Special thanks to @pinkyqil for the help 🩷

There's just something about wlw + TS and I can't explain it.

#woso x reader #futfem #andrea medina #andrea medina x reader #atletico madrid femenino

[envysparkler]

Of all the people Bruce expects to see on his doorstep on a Sunday morning, Talia al Ghul is very, very low on the list.  Frankly, he’s surprised she bothered to knock.

“Oh,” Talia says, lips pursing in disappointment as he looms in the doorway, “it’s you.”  She rocks on her heels, like she’s attempting to peer around him.

“This is my house,” Bruce says, half-offended and half-bewildered.  She’s not alone, there’s a child scowling up at him—they’re making League assassins smaller and smaller these days—but Bruce ignores him and focuses on the greater threat.  “I’ve already told Ra’s al Ghul that Gotham is off-limits—”

“Don’t be ridiculous, this isn’t about him,” Talia waves him off and saunters forward, stepping over the threshold and into the house like it belongs to her.  The child follows her, only pausing to sneer at Bruce, and Bruce is left standing on his porch, thoroughly dismissed.

Talia always did have a way of getting what she wanted, and damn anything in her way.  It takes a moment for Bruce to shake the old, lingering fondness and remember that a deadly assassin is inside his house.

Alfred is going to kill him.

“Wait!  Talia!”  He catches up to her near the kitchen, where she is surveying the cereal boxes on the counter with palpable distaste.  The child looks like he’s trying to test them for poison, or possibly poison them himself, but Bruce doesn’t have time to worry about that, because she’s found—

“Uh, Bruce?” Tim’s voice cracks high, out of his chair and holding both his cereal bowl and his spoon ready to throw.  “Did you forget to tell me you had company?”

“Timothy Drake,” Talia says, cold enough to create icicles.  She studies him for a long moment, skipping from his Superboy pajamas to his bleary face to the overfull mug of coffee on the table.  “You are one of Lady Shiva’s.”

The child’s scowl deepens.

“Yes?” Tim looks at Bruce desperately, like it’s a test and he’s looking for the answer.  Bruce shrugs.

“She mentioned you were passable,” Talia sniffs.  “For a boy.”

Tim looks a mixture of outraged and pleased, but Bruce is more concerned with why Talia is here, standing in his home years after she gave back his mother’s ring.  Talia only reveals whatever she wants to reveal, and while she does only ever tells the truth, she lets him draw incorrect conclusions from those truths all on his own.  It means Ra’s isn’t involved in whatever brought her here, but that could mean anything from the old schemer being dead to Talia being on the run, and Bruce is not nearly awake for an imminent League invasion.

“Where’s Alfred?” Talia finally finishes her survey of the kitchen and rests her cool gaze on him.

That would be the reason Bruce is barely awake.  He only managed to drag himself from bed with the reminder that there was an unsupervised teenager in his house.  Unfortunately, he’d got there too late to save the coffeemaker.

“What do you want with Alfred?” Tim asks, on the verge of hostile.  The child draws himself up like a hissing, spitting snake, and only stays still by virtue of Talia’s hand on his shoulder.  Talia, for her part, merely looks inconvenienced.

“Well, this would’ve been several times simpler had he been here,” she sighs.  “I could’ve dropped off Damian for a spot of tea and gotten on with my business.”

“And what is your business?” Bruce presses.

Talia heaves another sigh—this time dramatic and put upon.  It’s an act, Bruce can tell, but that doesn’t help him, not when Talia turns to him and widens her eyes, looking up through her lashes.  “Unfortunately, Beloved, your son takes after you in terms of vanishing skills, and I’ve finally managed to track him down here, so I really must get going before he infiltrates that sorry excuse of a prison and finishes decapitating that clown you keep alive for some unfathomable reason.”

There’s a lot packed into that statement, and Bruce is still untangling ‘your son takes after you in terms of vanishing skills’ with the knowledge that Nightwing is supposed to be safely inside Bludhaven and the growing horror that Dick might’ve accidentally started a war with the League of Assassins, so it’s Tim that inhales first, staring at the child in sharp shock and then up at Talia, before finally turning towards Bruce.

“You have a kid with Talia al Ghul?!”

~#~

Talia, of course, does not bother to explain anything.  She merely instructs the child—Damian—to behave before vanishing back out the front door, and Bruce’s attempt to follow her is met with a katana and a high-pitched demand for a duel.  It becomes apparent that Talia’s version of behaving doesn’t match Bruce’s, because it takes several minutes and one shallowly bleeding slice before Bruce can extricate himself.

The child—his child—Damian leaves him alone then, looking disappointed in his swordsmanship skills, and turns instead to badgering Tim, who despite favoring a bo staff—“a clearly inferior weapon unsuited to anything but sloppy pulverization,” comes out crisp and clear-edged, much like Bruce himself when he was younger and his only point of reference was Alfred—is judged a suitable opponent on the basis of Lady Shiva’s reference.

Bruce is maybe a little sulky that a child—his child—has dismissed him in favor of a teenager with a pillow crease on his cheek, but he suppresses the emotion to dart to the Batcomputer so he can ask Nightwing what the hell he’s been up to.

Unfortunately, Dick’s response is both confused and irritated, which means Bruce has to waste time explaining the situation lest his eldest give him the silent treatment again, and Dick signs off with a promise to drop by, clearly excited at the prospect of a new sibling.

Bruce doesn’t warn him that this one is more apt to stab him than hug him.  Dick can figure that out for himself.

But with that distraction out of the way, he’s left to ruminate on Talia’s words.  She wasn’t talking about Dick, and clearly not about Tim, and not Damian, and Bruce has no other sons.  The thought drives a pang through him, a loss he will always carry, and he finds himself in front of the case with Jason’s uniform, as though it can help him solve the puzzle.

Is there another child out there he doesn’t know about?  He’d swear that he doesn’t have another with Talia, but he has no idea when or how Damian was conceived, so it’s the most likely explanation. 

#my snippets #bruce is so confused #all part of talia's plan #meanwhile jason is off having fun! with! explosives! #(and clowns)

[marikosenwrites]

karasuno boys - dating headcanons (pt. 1)!

a/n: sen here!! heyy obsessing over our haikyuu boys are we <3 yes i am i'm only on season two right now though, almost season three!! i'll be doing aoba jousai, nekoma, and fukuroudani gakuen! enjoy!

characters: hinata shouyou, kageyama tobio, tanaka ryuunosuke, sawamura daichi, sugawara koushi (suga-san🥹), tsukishima kei (TSUKKI🥹) [pt. 1], yamaguchi tadashi, takeda ittetsu (just me and one of my favorites), ukai keishin [and in that order] {pt.2}

pt. 1 || pt. 2

notes: in this au, kiyoko can't be married to tanaka...yeah. they're still in highschool, btw

gn!reader

↳ ❝ [ 日向翔陽 HINATA SHOUYOU ] ¡! ❞

-this cutie omg

-probably the first to confess

-gets all blushy when you're around at the start of the relationship

-you love ruffling his hair

-if you watch him practice until the end, he treats you to meat buns!! if he doesn't have enough money, he'll just share one with you

-kageyama is jealous omg and tsukishima is just like "the chibi got a girlfriend??"

-loves you so very much

-his love language HAS to be words of affirmation and physical affection

-you just can't help but return the affection

-if you don't know how to play volleyball, he's gonna teach you!!

-if you know- he's going to ask you to talk to him

-dates will be chaotic and affectionate

-often cooking dates!

-you love his family especially natsu

-also love them amusement park dates with him

-he's so fun loving and all

-kisses are very innocent, close to no spice at all except when he's feeling super annoyed or something

-loves cuddling with you when it's bedtime <33

-does NOT have a specific schedule rest assured

-calls you his dove (aww)

-you love calling him sunshine <333

-HE'S JUST SO BRIGHT

-I SWEAR

↳ ❝ [ 影山飛雄 KAGEYAMA TOBIO ] ¡! ❞

-a sweetheart actually

-he's so cold on the outside but lights up when you're there

-kisses have a little bit of spice

-he's too prideful to confess first ig so you make the move

-loves it when you come to his practice to support him

-at some point he has requested you to become a manager because sometimes ukai thinks you're a distraction for him so asks you to walk out for a bit to let kageyama concentrate

-you bet he has worried over it because he didn't know where you went

-ok onto the main shit

-dates are always somehow sport related (HOW DOES HE KEEP FINDING THEM)

-sometimes an outing or two when he's actually free and not busy with volleyball stuff

-you'd think he isn't clingy...WELL IT'S THE OPPOSITE ALRIGHT.

-he actually craves YOUR attention and YOURS ONLY

-i think you two would have a cat together (named it NOTHING after the other volleyball players you know :/)

-loves your cuddles too

-WAIT WAIT HEAR ME OUT

-YOU KNOW HE BUYS THEM DRINKS RIGHT

-HE WOULD BUY LIKE HUNDREDS FOR YOU IF YOU WANT

-aww the little (wait he's tall) guy

↳ ❝ [ 田中龍之介 TANAKA RYUUNOSUKE ] ¡! ❞

-the hot-headed guy just can't get enough of you

-you sometimes make fun of him for being almost bald-

-but he's okay with it because he loves you (as long as you dont do it that often)

-okay so firstly like kiyoko WHEN HE SEES YOU HE CONFESSES TO YOU ALMOST IMMEDIATELY

-one second he's dumbfounded by your beauty, the other he's confessing to you already

-like you reject him first few times

-AND THEN AND THEN YOU START TO FALL FOR HIM

-THEREFORE YOU ACCEPT WOOOOO

-it's uh "Y/N-SAN! I LIKE YOU CAN YOU GO OUT WITH ME?!!!" and then you're just like "ah- yeah. mhm."

-he's just like :o WHAT

-okay that's it for the confession

-dates are always what you want

-if it happens you want to make cake, go for an ice cream shop, an amusement park- whatever, you name it and he can afford it? YOU'RE GOING

-they're all so sweet...

-he's also needy at some point when you're dating

-so...MORE IN MY NSFW LATER

↳ ❝ [ 菅原孝史　SUGAWARA KOUSHI ] ¡! ❞

-i'm gonna bet 100 dollars that he's the one confessing

-STEP ONE: get you as his girlfriend

-firstly he's going to ask you to meet him during lunch in the morning

-second when you're both there he confesses

-to his surprise you accept to go out with him and one date turns into two, into three and ON

-STEP TWO: MORE DATES TO COMEEE

-always ice cream dates and baking dates

-always appears to get flour in his fluffy hair

-ALSO ALSO YOU LOVE PATTING HIS HAIR AT ALL TIMES IT'S LIKE COMFORTING YOURSELF

-sometimes picnics too <333

-STEP THREE: there is none for now but THERE WILL BE SOON. SOON ENOUGH.

-his way of giving you affection is by kissing you, cuddling, and giving you praises...

-do you have a praise kink (nvm forget i asked that)

-cuddling in bed is one of his favorite ways to go to sleep

-you stroking his back is too

-you guys are always the talk of the karasuno vb boys group when you guys get together for gatherings (the perfect couple?!?!?!?!)

↳ ❝ [ 澤村大地 SAWAMURA DAICHI ] ¡! ❞

-he's definitely the one to confess first being the big boy man he is <3

-literally will kiss you when you accept

-so taken aback you felt like you were going to faint

-his kisses are so gentle help

-ok maybe not sometimes but we all know when that is

-love playing with his ears mayybe?? i know there's nothing different with the rest, but i just feel like it's with daichi

-your first date is an amusement park one ✨✨

-p.s. you shared the cotton candy lmao-

-he literally walked you home and your parents invited him in for dinner

-they like him very much thank you

-relationship has been approved now your parents are urging him to marry you even though it's only one week into the relationship-

-now HE'S the one that pats your head every time he passes you in the hallway or whatsoever

-when you move in together LITERALLY EVERYTHING IS YOUR CHOICE NOW

-you can choose the flat, the decorations, the vibes, the furniture- EVERYTHING

-loves you that much yes

-the sweetest guy ever NO DEBATE

↳ ❝ [ 月島蛍 TSUKISHIMA KEI ] ¡! ❞

-SALTY SHIMA. THIS MAN IS SO SALTY

-i swear bro

-he has rizz though that's for sure

-he confesses to you first (it was during lunch you remember the day like it was yesterday)

-his kisses are half spicy (igg since tsukishima is that kinda person)

-the mean to the public and only kind to you kind of person <3

-dates are usually home dates (he's an introvert (i headcanon))

-perhaps if you can persuade him (it's a 50/50)

-first date was a movie date

-then you went home with him (you went to his house)

-and met his parents

-they liked you very much <33 now treat you like their daughter

-the next time you went on a date, you brought him to yours and he made a good impression but they don't love him as much as his parents do to you

-i will write the time skip arc for this because i am biased and you literally can't stop me (but tell me if you want more i'll reblog it with more hcs)

-you were so happy for him when he joined the sendai frogs

-cheered for him on every game (LIKE THE SHIRT AND THE SIGNS AND STUFF)

-facepalmed himself out of spite ya bet he got a scolding for that

-"KEI KEI KEI GANABTTE," that was you, screaming at the top of your lungs at your HUSBAND.

-"oi, tsukki, who's that?"

-tsukishima facepalmed himself, earning a glare from you, "my wife."

-"EHH?? TSUKKI HAS A WIFE??"

-lmao the most normal occurrence

-after that koganegawa would often come to you and ask for dirt on kei (screw him for facepalming)

-saltyshima (in the public) → sweetieshima (in front of you only)

©marikosenwrites 2024-25 all banners, dividers, and work. please do not steal. i own none of the HAIKYUU!!/ハイキュー！！ characters mentioned. reblogs, likes, and comments are welcomed. <3

#sen's works #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyuu fluff #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio #sugawara koushi #sugawara daichi #tsukishima kei #hinata x reader #kageyama x reader #sugawara x reader #sawamura x reader #tsukishima x reader #marikosenwrites

[eatmangoesnekkid]

I am one of the soft life pioneers but there was something about this movement that felt inauthentic and was bothering me. I didn't have the words to describe it but I finally found them. A soft life is not a life where there are never any problems. Those who have soft lives are not just living our lives, being lazy, not doing much, shopping, watching TV shows, and looking pretty. That is the social media performance. In a real soft life, the aim is not a stress-free, problem-free life where there are never any issues. A truly regulated nervous system can handle some stress, whether being triggered or coming up against an old pattern and habit, and regulate itself into harmony faster than most. Learning to slow down and fully receive when it is time, whether receiving love, intimacy, or support or learning to respond truthfully, whether with playfulness, laughter, or anger or by saying "yes" or "no" are healthy human responses depending upon the experience or situation. Positive stressors like working out with heavy weights, cold showers, warm sun, inversions, barefoot walking on gravel, high-intensity workouts, and the like are healthy for the body. They increase circulation --meaning--lymph flow and blood flow--a great sign of healthy body. The strongest most robust bodies thrive under stress as long as basic underlying human needs are met over a period of time like hydration or good rest. And what's also true is that not sleeping well for some nights or hydrating properly for a couple of days and getting back in the flow is also okay as long you are mindful and aware and take measures to get back into physiological harmony. All our bodies contain cancer cells, but a robust body can have specific "strands" of bacteria in the blood but they never develop into a disease, cancer, or "virus" and eventually become dormant or break down and dissolve out of the body as waste. Robust bodies with diversity in the gut, healthy stressors, and the *occasional* not-so healthy stressors like fried foods in seed oils from the Indonesian restaurant, a slice of cake with refined sugar from Grandma, the alcoholic drink, bouts of sadness or anger, or even a disagreement or conflict with someone you adore that is capable of being worked out into harmony, are completely human and healthy. A soft life simply means that there is generous space for true rest, relaxation, and care with very little worry or concern. -India Ame'ye, Author

#healing

[lightlycareless]

uuu just imagine reading manga with naoya in bed while being cuddled up together <3<3

Hello!!!

Ok so this is sweet—kind of domestic amirite? oof. I love me some domestic Naoya when he's nothing but a loving husband. akgfhaksjghkjaghjkashgjas and a nerd too ahahah awww anyways...

warnings: very tiny mentions of smut. implications really. fluff outside of that.

happy reading!!

Imagine it being a cold snowy day where Naoya doesn’t have to go out on missions, tend to clan responsibilities, or anything else.

A day where he can simply spend his time in nothing but his favorite, deserving things, such as catching up with his favorite series, enjoying a well-deserved break from all those countless missions, and of course, spend time with you—his needy wife who didn’t hold back from letting him know how much she missed him.

“What would you like to do today?” is how the days would begin, with you peppering endless kisses across his face while the two snuggled underneath the sheets.

“Hmmm, I feel like spending the whole day in bed.” He sighs, kissing the top of your head. “The new chapter of the manga I told you about came out yesterday, and I want to read it.”

“I’ll make breakfast, then.” You smile, ready to push yourself up from the futon and rush to the kitchen—though Naoya had something else in mind too.

“What’s the hurry, my love?” he murmurs, pulling you back to him. “Going away from me so soon? I just came back…”

“N—No, of course not… I could never!” you blush. “I just… just wanted to make the best of today, you know? Please you.”

“You know, there’s one thing that will immediately please me.” He breathes against your ear, you shudder.

“…I still have to get your bath ready.”

“Can’t see why we can’t do both.”

You press your lips together, heated by his words.

“Ok, but we can’t get too distracted—I still want you to enjoy your day! You rarely get to rest as of lately….” You pout, he laughs before leaning to give you a kiss.

“With you by my side, there’s no way I cannot.”

After that is done, followed by a relaxing bath and a delicious meal prepared by you—Naoya insists in only being fed by you, not the staff; you happily oblige—you’re quick to take your place by his side on the futon, wrapping one of his arms around your waist and rest your head against his chest while his free hand holds up one of his favorite magazines, the one that publishes his favorite anime of the moment.

“I read they had to reprint this issue solely because of one mistake. Nothing too big, but apparently big enough to have the whole publisher pull out the magazine…”

“Gee, that must’ve been quite the task—And to allow it too! Is the author that big or something?”

“Kind of, he’s the best seller at the moment.”

“No wonder, if he’s not happy, that means no business for them.” You sigh. “I wonder if the change is even noticeable.”

“I don’t know, but that’s what I’ll figure out now—they usually point it out anyways.” Naoya squeezes you against him, kissing the top of your head.

“Well, that’s sounds like a wonderful plan!” You grin. “And if you get hungry, or want something to snack on, just let me know and I’ll bring it to you.”

Naoya blushes.

“I love you.”

It’s your turn to blush.

“I love you too.”

The rest of the evening would go on that way, with Naoya reading his manga, eyes intently fixed on the panels while murmuring to himself whenever particularly interesting scene occurs, if not scoffing when a character does something stupid—just as he did in real life; both gestures that you found incredibly cute, how relaxed he is when doing things he loves.

And though he was very focused on that, he was still attentive enough to your presence and gestures, hands and lips looking for yours whenever you reached out to him or vice versa, as well as allowing you to feed him, careful enough to not distract him that much.

Because you just couldn’t snap him out of trance, you know? He looked so adorable!!

Although it would turn a bit… too much soon enough.

“I don’t—I don’t want anything else, Y/N—” he protests when you try to shove another piece of popcorn into his mouth, going as far as moving away, but you simply stuck to him.

“Come on, you have to eat!”

“Not to this point!” Naoya gasps, stomach full to the point of exploding! Of so it feels. “I don’t—I don’t want anything else!”

“Tough luck, Naoya—If you didn’t want me to spoil you, you shouldn’t have stayed home!” you giggle, and Naoya just relents, because he can’t do anything else when he’s putty to both your adorable charm and insistence, his beloved wife.

A side of Naoya that fortunately, is just for your eyes to see.

I just realized that Naoya was the kind of guy to say: "I want a wife that is submissive, that is only attentive to me and knows her place and yadda yadda yadda" until you came along and he was like "ok I like that but... I also want kisses...."

Idk I just keep thinking he's very desperate for affection hahaha call it ooc I DO NOT CARE I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM. 😶😶

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this small thing 🥺❤️ him getting all flustered because you're always so caring to him is AGH healing!!! We could literally change him...

Now, thank you so much for sending in this ask ❤️❤️❤️ take care and hope to see you soon!!!

#ask #naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

[intoanotherworld23]

Trying New Things

Summary: Harry wanted to try some new things in the bedroom, and you aren’t exactly complaining when he awakens the wild animal in you

Pairing: Reader X Harry Styles

Warnings: NSFW MATURE CONTENT, there is smut, sex, unprotected sex, use of toy, sex toy, mild choking, dirty talk, minor fingering

A/N: On my old account I used to write so much about Harry, and I would obsess over him non stop, so I figured I would write for him again as well! Let me know what you guys think and if you would like to be added to the tag list! Thanks so much everyone! XOXO

————————————————————————————

“Just how I wanted you princess.” Harry praised as he watched your body against his.

Laying on your side with Harry behind you as he was holding your leg in the air. Your arm gripping his thigh hard as you felt him going in and out of you. His arm underneath your head giving it something to rest on.

Feeling every thrust pushing in and pulling up driving up a rhythmic beat. Loving the thickness of his cock stretching out your inner walls. He was guiding you to the edge of pleasure. Feeling him pulsing inside of you both of you pushing each other into a frenzy.

"Oh fuck." You cried out as he slide his cock easily in and out of you.

"You are absolutely soaked." The sounds of your wetness echoing around the room.

He was breathing heavily into your neck as he continued to pump his cock inside of you. Inhaling your scent of need and desire like it was the worlds sweetest smell. You felt so incredibly full, and you didn't know how you were going to take anymore.

"That feel good princess?"

"Mhm." Nodding your head unable to find the words to speak.

"Aw did you forget how to speak?" His tone condescending.

The scruff of his stubble on his jaw was scratching against your neck as he whispered dirty things in your ear. Your head thrown back so he had easy access to your neck, leaving sloppy kisses along the skin. Your eyes closed in pure ecstasy you didn't want this feeling to end.

You could feel the juices from your pussy slopping against your thighs every time he drilled into you. Your ass cheeks slapping against his pelvis with each movement he made. Your pussy making a squishing sound that made you feel flustered.

"Hold on." He mumbled against your ear as he stopped thrusting inside of you to reach into his drawer digging something out.

You whispered for him to continue having been close to your orgasm you didn't want to lose it. Whining when he was taking a little longer than you would have liked.

Looking over quickly to see what he was doing then leaning your head back down. Feeling a cold object touch your wet folds, and then a high vibration buzzing against your clit making you squeal.

"Shit just like that Harry." You moaned out your walls clenching around him.

Harry has always talked about using a toy on you during sex. He just never expressed when he wanted to do that. Now here he was deep inside of you while rubbing a vibrator against you.

"I can feel you squeezing my cock darling."

Lifting his leg up even higher so he could get in a deeper angle. His cock slamming into your sweet spot making you see stars. Sweat was forming around your back and forehead. The sounds of his skin slapping against yours making your cheeks heat up.

Both your bodies rocking back and forth clashing into each other. The bed was shaking underneath you hearing then creak from the bed springs. If he kept going like this you were worried he was going to break the bed.

"God you drive me so fucking crazy." Growling in your ear as he nipped at it.

He moved the toy around your clit harder and harder. That fire was forming in the pit of your stomach and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. Your legs were shaking feeling yourself getting closer to release.

"Stretching this tight cunt out."

"Harry." Whining pathetically.

"I know baby I know I'm gonna get you there."

Not even knowing what to do with your hands either having them on his body, or in your hair. At one point while his one hand was moving the toy against you, his arm that was underneath you moved slightly. His hand reaching up to grab you around your neck lightly choking you.

A smile appearing on your face making him rut into you even harder. He loved seeing you like this and what a desperate wild animal you were becoming. He's never wrapped a hand around your throat, but he was just living in the moment.

Applying just the tiniest bit of pressure to your throat so you could still breathe. It was overstimulating but absolute fucking bliss. Harry could see it written across your face, and he wanted to keep that image in his head.

"Fuck you look so good like this princess."

Both your bodies were rocking back and forth together in unison. The smell of sex and sweat was filling your nostrils. Moans and groans echoing across the room. Harry was straining himself waiting for you to reach that sweet release.

If there was one thing he loved the most about this it was the feeling of you cumming around him. To know he had that power against you made him feel like he was on top of the world.

"Oh god I'm gonna cum Harry." You whined pushing your head back.

"That's a good girl for me."

Harry groaning as he felt your pussy squeezing his cock. Your hips began to move in the rhythm of his cock. Still continuing to use the toy against you egging you on. Stopping for a quick minute, before his wrists would start snapping the toy against your clit and folds.

Your breathing was becoming heavier by the minute. His hand using the toy kept the tip of it against your clit pressing down harder so your back was arching against Harry. He was always one to tease you, and bring you to tears when it came to sex.

"Cum all over my cock sweetheart."

That was all it took before you felt your toes curling in the air, and you pussy squeezing him so tightly as you came around him. The pit of your stomach coiling as a wave of warmth rushed over your body.

"Oh fuck I'm there with you my sweet girl." He warned you through his teeth.

Feeling your body drop dead slumped against him as he pumped into you a couple more times. Groaning loudly as his cock twitched inside of you before squirting his warm load into you. The both of you out of breath after your kinky lovemaking.

Leaning his head forward so his forehead was pressed up against your shoulder. Giving you little tender kisses his hand running circles on your thighs in a soothing way. Feeling your eyes becoming heavier as you strained to keep them open.

There was no way your body was going to be able to move. Your legs felt like cooked noodles, and your hands were lightly trembling. It was an intense feeling almost like a rush of excitement or adrenaline.

"I hope I didn't hurt you." His soft hands touching your neck.

"No it was absolutely perfect Harry." Confessing as you looked away feeling slightly embarrassed for liking it so much.

"Good cause we are definitely doing that again."

“Like right now?” Eyes widening already feeling your thighs clenching together at the thought of taking him again.

His hand reaching down between your legs to your raw cunt. Gasping as he gently pushed a thick finger inside of you. Your inner walls spreading open around it as you selfishly lifted your hips it. Feeling like you didn't know if you'd be able to handle anymore, but Harry knew you could.

Harry grinning as he watched the expression on your face. Knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you. He wasn't exactly done with you yet, and had more in store for you.

"Get ready for a long night princess."

#Harry styles #Harry styles smut #Harry styles fanfic #Harry styles imagines #Harry styles fanfiction #Harry styles oneshot #harry styles fic

[heaven-s-black-box]

No Second Chances- Al Haitham x Azar's daughter! wife!Reader

Return to File

Recovery date: April 26th, 2024

Description: Hello sorry if I'm bothering you but I got an idea from this video. (https://youtu.be/ZcMI-CQcZ_c?si=Ri1SQU-0DO6PMtIV) What if the reader is the biological daughter of Azar and is currently married to Alhaitham and they have a toddler who's almost two years old and the reader wants nothing to do with Azar because of what he did though she was willing to try and keep a somewhat healthy relationship with him because at the end of the day Azar was still her father and her child's grandfather, the reader is a gentle, humble and soft-spoken woman who does try to avoid confrontation.

Notes: This work was recovered in conjunction with an anonymous researcher, we thank them for their contributions. This one was a little hard to write, so I'm sorry if it's not very good.

Word count: 640

Back to directory

Al Haitham is not known for his empathy. He comes off as cold, he is calculating, and he doesn’t care for other people's bullshit. Those traits serve him well, they keep him out of trouble and on time, and they make it abundantly clear what he thinks of people.

He can count on one hand the people he tolerates excess complaining and illogical arguments from.

“You don’t have to see him,” Al Haitham whispers into the quiet room, tightening his hold on his wife.

She stops squirming, finally, but he knows she’s not done. He’s proven right when she fights against his hold to turn towards him and he opens his eyes to find her staring into his. Y/n places her hands on his chest, above his heart, and takes a deep breath. He can feel the pounding of her heart.

“I want Ehsan to know his grandfather.”

“He will.”

“Beyond what the history books will say,” Y/n sighed.

Al Haitham bit back a sigh. He couldn’t say he agreed with her, Azar hadn’t even been particularly present in her youth, but he understood what she was trying to do. When Azar had come to their wedding, she’d been ecstatic. When Ehsan had been born and he’d sent flowers, she’d started planning a day to bring him by the Academia. To her, Azar’s absence had always been explained and was never malicious so she was willing to give him a chance in her life.

That illusion she’d created, that her father carried, was now teetering after the recent events with the Akasha terminal. It was always so fragile, and now she was looking for a way to break it completely.

“It’s making you anxious,” Al Haitham said instead, resting his chin on her head and rubbing a hand up and down her back. “You hardly ate today.”

“I want my father to meet his grandson at least once, and you and Cyno went through all that trouble-”

“Y/n. We don’t care.”

She lowered her gaze, staring at her hands as she drummed her fingers against his chest. Al Haitham slid his hands around her waist to hold hers and placed a gentle kiss against her ring.

“Ehsan has a wonderful family already.” He nudges her chin up. “And if you tell any of them I said that I will put salt in your coffee.”

Y/n cracked a smile, and Al Haitham put his chin back on her head while wrapping his arms back around her.

“Get some sleep,” he whispered. “You can decide in the morning.”

---

Y/n took a deep breath before nodding at Cyno who opened the interrogation room door and let her in. She stepped in, fiddling with her fingers, and stared at the floor as she made her way to the empty chair. Azar watched her with stern eyes, hands folded on the table.

“I hear you’re being sent to Avidya forest.”

“Yes.”

Taking another deep breath, Y/n pressed her palms flat against the table and squeezed her eyes closed before meeting Azar’s eyes.

“Good luck.”

She got up from the chair and headed back towards the door.

“Is that all?” Azar asked, frowning.

“That’s all.”

“How’s Ehsan?”

Y/n stopped with her hand raised to knock for Cyno.

“He’s good, very smart… like his father. I think it would be better if maybe you take some time to think about things and then, if you want, we’ll come visit.”

“But he’s my grandson,” Azar snapped, making Y/n tense up and dig her nails into the palm of her hand.

“You’ve never met him, and the idea of seeing you makes me so nervous that he gets worried. So, for my son’s sake, goodbye,” she breathed, the shaky exhale causing her shoulders to relax as she knocked on the door.

#researcher s's recovery #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact alhaitham #genshin impact al haitham #alhaitham #al haitham #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x reader #x reader #female reader #oneshot #genshin impact oneshot #rating unavailable

[deviousdeliciousness]

Pinned Down

Premise: A giant pins down a tiny by their stomach no matter how much they writhe and squirm.

Little does tiny Lai know, but his high school bully Core is about to make that the least of his worries.

~~~~~~~~~~

"C'mon sweetheart, put some effort into it," the giant - Core - encouraged oh-so-caringly, his grin widening as Lai continued to struggle fruitlessly from beneath his thumb.

Lai pushed hard against the underside of the pad of the digit, arms straining with the effort, but it was for nothing. The giant's - his bully's - his tormentor's - thumb remained pressed firmly against his vulnerable stomach, keeping him pinned to the desk beneath him.

Sweat was beginning to bead along the tiny's brow from the exertion of his efforts, but he needed to escape - fast.

School had only just ended a few minutes ago, which meant that there were still plenty of tinies and actually decent giants roaming the halls to help him. The longer Lai stayed stuck under Core's thumb, though, the more his chances of escaping and finding someone to keep the giant away dwindled down to nothing.

Core rubbed his thumb along Lai's stomach, brushing up against the tiny's ribs and back down over his abdomen, pressing ever so slightly more against the soft, squishy skin.

Lai squirmed in discomfort, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to shove himself forwards to slide out from under the giant's thumb instead of uselessly trying to push his massive finger up, but it didn't work.

His tormentor just laughed, head propped up against his free hand with his elbow resting against the table to support it. His cheek was pressed against his fist, further crinkling his eye, which was already crescented with the force of his too-wide smile.

"Get. Off of me." Lai wheezed up to him, baring his teeth through his panting.

Core only laughed, rubbing another circle against the tiny's stomach that might've tickled if Lai's abdominals weren't already burning from his continuous strain.

His giant captor leaned in, coming closer and closer until his face was only a scant inch from Lai's own, the tiny's eyes going wide and his form still like a hare under a hawk's eye.

"Or what?" the giant breathed, the warm mintiness of his breath gusting out over the tiny trapped beneath his single thumb.

It took Lai too long to find his words, and when he did, he tried and failed to ignore how they trembled. "B-because - I - I'll tell," he strangled out, swallowing forcefully around the quiver in his throat.

Core only laughed, showing off his sharp canines and exhaling another too-warm breath over Lai's trapped body, eyes glittering. "'cause that's worked out so well for you so far," the giant teased, giving a careful yet firm press of his thumb against Lai's stomach that had the tiny gasping and squirming again at the uncomfortable sensation of his organs shifting ever-so-slightly with the force of it.

Almost worse than that, though, was the cold, hard truth to Core's words. Because Lai had tried to speak up about the bullying before. About how Core wouldn't leave him alone even when Lai explicitly requested him to. About how Core would pick him up without permission, carrying him around wherever he wanted and ignoring Lai's cries until they petered off into defeated pleas. About how Core would poke him whenever he felt like it, an action made monumentally different than how it sounded when a single prod from the giant often sent Lai toppling over.

Lai had told of it all. After months of the same treatment, of bearing it with thinned lips and a set jaw, he'd broken down.

And nothing had happened.

Or, well, something had happened: his life turning into a living hell.

He'd thought Core had been bad before, but it was nothing compared to how the giant treated him after.

Before, Core's attentions on him were definitely intrusive, crossing boundaries and disrespecting his autonomy. But at least it wasn't for too long. Just half an hour at most during their free period, where there weren't classes to restrain the giant from acting out. And it wasn't every day either - closer to once or twice a week.

Now, however, Core's presence was constant. Every day of the school week and nearly every hour within that, the giant found some way in which to torment Lai.

And the tiny was soon informed why by the gleeful giant himself.

The principal was Core's father. Not only that, but the man had a not-so-secret disdain for tinies as a whole. Of course nothing would be done about Core's treatment of a single one of them.

It seemed the very proof of as much was what had 'freed' Core to fully letting loose his desires on tormenting his unwilling little tiny.

And Lai hated him for it. Hated Core for his blatant disregard of Lai's autonomy, his person-hood.

It was that sudden, horrible thought that was what made Lai's next words spill free from him in a rush.

Those thoughts were what had Lai making the worst mistake of his short life.

He blurted out, "I'll go to the Dean!" The Dean, who was the only man above the school's principal that had any sway over what happened within the facility. A man - a giant - who was also firmly in support of the protection of tiny rights.

Above him, Core stilled.

Lai stared up at him, wide-eyed, his breath momentarily pausing in his chest as he found himself caught under the giant's gaze.

Core had stilled, yes, but not in the way Lai had. Not like prey under the eyes of a predator.

No, Core's eyes darkened slowly, inexorably, and fell half-lidded. His lips tilted up into a gleefully cruel smirk, and his thumb carefully pressed down just enough for Lai to gasp in fear at the threat.

"We can't have that, now can we?" Core murmured gently, even as his hand moved too fast for Lai to even process, catching the tiny up in the giant's too-warm fist.

"Wh-what?" the tiny forced himself to stutter out, his breath hitching. It was only now, as he stared up into Core's blank eyes that were usually so expressive, that he truly felt the stirrings of complete, irrefutable fear at being within the giant's hold.

"We can't have you go tattling to the Dean," Core obligingly explained, rubbing his thumb against the tiny's cheek despite how Lai tried to squirm away from the intrusive touch. Core clicked his tongue scoldingly, making Lai flinch. "Guess I'll just have to take you with me."

For a second, the tiny didn't process the words. Even when he did, he could only stare up at the giant uncomprehendingly.

Core saw his look - his lack of understanding - and gave a sickeningly sweet coo. "Don't worry, little thing, I'll take good care of you."

Lai's cry of disbelieving, rapid and all-encompassing panic was muffled as he abruptly found himself encased in darkness, the giant's hand still firmly around him and keeping him locked in place.

It dawned on the tiny. He was in Core's pocket. He was in Core's pocket, and he wouldn't be let go.

There was shifting and movement around him, no other acknowledgment to the tiny's trapped form, and the realization was set in stone.

The giant was taking him home, and Lai didn't know if he'd ever escape from it.

~~~~~~~~~

Wuh oh! ;333 oops, I did it again~

#g/t #g/t community #giant/tiny #gt writing #giant tiny #fear play #g/t fearplay #g/t angst #bully #bullying #capture #tw kidnapping #unbeta'd

[upontherisers]

in the cold spring

a/n: i'm in a writing mood recently! disclaimer: i haven't read mota or on a wing and a prayer yet so i do not know anything about jack kidd's life beside what is available on the 100th bomb group's website, so consider some details ~exaggerated for dramatic effect~. title is from ml burch's "i feel like giving you things" and this fic is about neither the cold or the spring, but it fits.

Goddamn Air Exec. 

Jack says goddamn Air Exec from the moment Bucky tells him that Hughlin recommended him, through two rounds of meetings with Harding—call me Chick—and Bowman—call me Red, through moving into the ops barracks, through shaking a thousand hands, and through getting a desk. Goddamn Air Exec. Goddamn Egan, goddamn Hughlin, and goddamn Air Exec.

His crew, his fort, and his dignity all because Bucky purposely flunked out of the tower. And Buck vouched for him! Goddamn Cleven and goddamn Air Exec. All of his training out the window for a desk in a corner office. He can’t even see the runway through the blinds, just the backroads of East Anglia and occasionally the Land Army girls and their cows. Five hundred hours of flight school for a desk in a corner office and a secretary.

“A secretary?” he asks as Harding points at a small station outside Jack’s newly-labeled office.

Chick nods. “Yes, Lieutenant Keene.” He looks around the busy floor, eventually settling on who he’s searching for. “There she is… Hazel!”

A head pops up from the mass of moving bodies and paper and a woman quickly makes her way across the room, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. As she approaches, she’s smiling with a brightness that goes all the way to her warm, round brown eyes, hand outstretched for another yet another handshake. Goddamn Air Exec, but he’s less bitter about it.

“Jack, I assume you’ve met Lieutenant Keene—”

“Hazel, I insist.” Her grip is firm and as warm as her eyes.

They met the few times when he had to go to Bucky’s office—his office now—and she was waiting at her station outside. He remembers her as polite but busy, inoffensively curt. Not one of the staff who blathers away, overly chipper and overly interested in the reason for his visit, but also not one of the ones who snaps at him to sit and wait and then ignores him like he’s the reason they’re losing the war. Hazel’s friendly and effective, a good temperament for a C.O. He wonders why she’s in here and not up in the air.

“Good to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Jack, I insist.”

Her smile widens just so, and he has a feeling that they’re going to work well together.

She turns to Chick and nods to where she came from. “Last of the after actions for the 418th—” Jack pretends that doesn't hurt to hear. He should’ve been up there with his boys. Goddamn Air Exec. “—I’ll have ‘em to Sheila in fifteen, and I’ll be at my desk after that, in case you need anythin’.”

It takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him, and he mumbles an ‘of course’ at his shoes. He’s a man who gets waited on now; it would take some time to get used to. She departs with another smile and heads back into the fray.

As Chick leads Jack around the rest of the space, showing him charts and maps and a million other semi-familiar faces, he remains acutely aware of Hazel. She’s speaking to a WAC as they go over some maps, marking here and there, her encouraging smile no doubt prompting stellar work from the younger girl. He’s reminded of Ev, the way his friend’s genial countenance can turn a boring day kicking around the hard stand into a respite and a rough flight home from a mission into a night at a comedy club.

Then he misses his friends—Ev, Dougie, Crosby and the man the navigator has become since getting kicked off of the Crash Wagon. He misses hearing DeMarco and Cleven bicker as they climb into their fort, that damn dog never far behind as Lemmons likes to sneak him out onto the hard stand. He misses the feeling of sitting in his seat and the controls roaring to life under his fingers as he hears his crew get ready at their guns. He misses looking out the window to see Ginny settling into her cockpit to his right, grinning like it’s Christmas morning and popping her gum into her headset receiver to set off Knick Knack at her navigator’s seat.

He even misses Bucky and his plane-to-plane chatter, always vigilant, always watching out for his squadron, his group, and the rest of the wing. He misses the man Bucky can be in the air as opposed to the faux-apologetic fast-talker that landed Jack at a desk in the first place. Goddamn Air Exec.

But then he comes back to Hazel and the scrunch of her nose as she stretches her arms above her head with a yawn. She slumps back onto the desk she’s sitting on, looking around the room curiously before meeting Jack’s eyes and nodding. He nods back before Chick drags him off to some new wonder.

She’s at her desk in fifteen minutes like she told him she would be and sticks her head into his office with a smile. She smiles a lot. “I’m back. Holler if you need anything.”

By the time he can look up from the file he’s puzzling over, she breezes back to her desk and immediately busies herself at her typewriter.

He doesn’t know what to do with her. The other C.O.’s have their secretaries do the standard—take memos, keep their schedules, make coffees—but that seems insulting. She’s here to win a war; he wasn’t going to send her scrambling for sugar. On the other hand, it’s insulting not to utilize her, as sharp and reliable as she is. His father would find her a task and a ring, which he had with his last three secretaries. Jack had no intention of using his rank like that. He’ll find something for Hazel to do. It just has to be the right thing.

And he searches for too long, it seems, because after three days of greeting her when he arrives in the morning and occasionally asking her where certain stationery was stored, she steps into his office post-lunch and plops down in the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. Her eyebrows raise and she wears a bemused smile as she folds her hands in her lap. She reminds him of Bucky for a moment.

“Was it something I said?”

He shakes his head. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice his lack of engagement, or perhaps would lean into not having much on her plate. “I’ve never had a secretary before.”

“Most men haven’t.” She leans forward and starts picking at a chip in the wood of his desk. “Your job is my job, too.”

“You seem busy enough.” She does. Every time he looks out into the hall, she’s up to something, whether it’s at her desk, in the filing cabinets along the walls behind her, or somewhere on the ops floor. She knows what she’s doing; he’s the one who’s lost.

Her mouth purses. “Not for long. I’ll be done with the backlog Bucky left by EOD.”

“I’m sorry he left so much—”

Her exaggerated eye roll surprises him. “That’s the point, Jack. It’s too much work for any one man.”

Goddamn Air Exec.

“But that’s why you got me. We’re a team… so,” she raps his desk twice, “put me in, Coach.”

He wants to say something, to have an important Air Exec order or some example for her to follow, but as he looks into her expectant face, he comes up short. He hasn’t eaten yet today, but he’d shoot himself in the foot before he ever made her go to the mess for him. She reads him like a book, which only further rankles his sense of command.

“Well, what’s all this?” She spreads her hands over the papers in front of her.

“Interrogation logs, new crew files—” He points at a pile Chick’s aide had delivered that morning. “I need to get those back to Harding as soon as I sign them.”

“Sign ‘em now and I’ll run ‘em over.”

“No.” This is exactly what he’s been avoiding, assigning her utter tedium. 

She pushes the papers toward him. “C’mon.”

He blinks at her before opening the file. It’s some report or inventory request, or both or neither, which he has no idea why he has to sign, but he’ll do it because that’s job along with waiting around and going to briefings and briefings about briefings. Not even a week in and he was ready to crawl out of his skin or at least out the window. Chick denied both his requests to fly so he’s truly stuck in this office for who knows how long. Goddamn Air Exec.

Two signatures, three, four, five—Hazel points to hidden dotted lines, flipping through the pages without a second glance, and Jack can’t help but feel like she’s tying his shoes. That probably flew with Bucky, but it wouldn’t with him. They gave him the promotion because they knew he could do the job well and he agreed. This is something he could be good at. A team of subordinates was a perk of the job, expected for a man of such a station, and he’s grateful that folks were will to help out, but he’d grown up watching secretaries turn from aides to mother-wives and he doesn’t want that for anyone, especially a gal as nice as Hazel. He’ll find something for her to do.

He signs the last page and closes the file as Hazel stands, hand outstretched. Pausing for a moment, he doesn’t pass it over quite yet. “I don’t want you being my errand girl.”

She reaches across the desk and plucks the file from him. “It’s my job.”

She turns on a graceful heel and heads out across the floor, making it to Harding’s office and back before he could find it in him to stop staring at her confident, unaffronted gait. Bright laughter—the brightest he’s ever heard—bubbles out of her as she tucks her skirt under her thighs and takes a seat at her desk.

“You could’ve signed three more reports in the time that took me. Now I’m gonna have to wait for you.” She tsked. “Wastin’ both our time.”

She’s tying his shoes again and that lights a fire under his ass for the rest of the day. He clears the files that had accumulated on his desk plus two rounds of parts inventory from the hard stand and he gets a memo off to London requesting more birds. He feels satisfied by the time he flicks off the light and gathers his jacket and coat. It sure wasn’t flying, but it felt like making a difference all the time. He didn’t know he could do that from behind a desk.

It takes some soul-searching, but he manages to light his own fire for the rest of the week. He maintains his composure through the worst of it, a long fog delay that had half his pilots climbing into the tower to beg him for clearance, a ‘misplaced’ delivery of Mae Wests that somehow ended up with the 418th before they came to ops, and another declined request to fly from Harding. Goddamn Air Exec. 

The job gets easier each day, especially with Hazel right outside the door. It does feel more like a team than subordination as they move around each other, trading reports and memos without having to speak. Still, she’s a few steps ahead of him—coming through the door before he can call her to pick up a file, finding this or that form before he can realize he’s misplaced it—but he’s determined to catch up. He comes in early on Saturday and has the summarized after action reports in Chick’s office before Hazel’s arrived for the day. It’s a good feeling when her eyes go wide in surprise and her cheery mouth finds its usual smile.

“Well, I suppose we’re even now.”

“No,” he shakes his head, “not even close.”

If they’re really going to be a team, he’s going to even the playing field. No more having her play governess. Neither of them are here to clean up after someone else.

That evening, Hazel is leaning into Chick’s doorway as Jack leaves for the day, chatting with Sheila. 

He mumbles a ‘pardon me’ as he passes and her face lifts at the sight of him. “Major Kidd! We were just talkin’ about you.”

“You were?” he asks as they fall into lockstep on their way out. 

“We were sayin’ how nice it is to have an Air Exec who knows what he’s doin’.”

“Bucky tried his best.” He’s lying.

She knows it and she snorts. “He was fun to have around, certainly.”

It’s quiet as they walk. The flights have stopped for the day and if he strains his ears he’d be able to hear the crews working away on the hard stand, but there’s no need for that now. That’s another thing he’s learning—when he’s doing the job and when he’s not. With the warm evening air and the blazing sunset in front of them, he’s grateful for the time off the clock.

He looks at Hazel and is struck by the sight. The light washes her dark cherrywood skin in a velvet glow, sending shadows of her lashes and her nose across her face. He’s suddenly jealous of Bucky and he doesn't know why. She catches his eye and smiles. Blanching, he clears his throat and stares at the ground. His boots are the cleanest they’ve been since he’s been in England now that he’s out of the grease and dust of the planes. Goddamn Air Exec.

They’re nearly at the ops barracks when he realizes that he doesn’t know where she’s going. Does she live in the barracks? Is she one of the girls who’s at a billet in town? Why doesn’t he know? Shouldn’t he know? She’s never in the mess and is so rarely at the Silver Wings. He wonders what she does with her time. He realizes he doesn’t know much about her at all, not her hometown, her family, where she was before the Air Force. The Oberlin pennant on the wall in his office had prompted her to ask into his life, but that’s because she’s always where he is, but he’s never where she is. He wants to be.

“Where’re you headed?”

She comes to a stop. “Home.”

“Where’s that?”

Her wry smile makes his heart skip a beat as she turns down the path leading toward the enlisted barracks. “Good evening, Major.” She never calls him that.

“Some of us’ll be at the pub tonight—Chick, Red, Bucky… it’d be good to see you.” He takes a half-step toward her so as not to yell the offer, maybe she’ll take it if he’s gentle. Part of him hopes she’ll say yes. He wants time with her outside of keeping the group on its feet, just an hour to hear her laugh, to ask her where she gets that charming accent from, to ask her for a dance. Part of him hopes she’ll give him one more good smile and walk away, that she’ll remind him there are rules, lines to be maintained. He’s not going to become his father.

“Good evening,” she repeats and he watches her go. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the ache in his chest as Cros yells at him from across the way. He’ll have his night and she’ll have hers.

He’s not sure if he should apologize for being out of turn when he sees her next, clear the air and make it clear that he’s not… he isn’t going to be that man. He reasons to himself that wants to know her as a teammate, in the same way he’d come to know the members of his crew. It’s what any good leader does. There’s a short speech ready to go when he enters HQ Monday morning after seeing the forts off.

She greets him as politely as she always has, but he gets the feeling he probably wouldn’t be able to tell if she’s upset. Her cards are meticulously close to her chest while she learns about the people around her. It’d be a good quality in a C.O. He thinks of all the women he’d just sent to Norway—Ginny, Vera, Amelie, Suzanne. Hazel would fit right in.

There’s a small box on his desk, no sender address upon investigation. “Hazel?”

“Yeah?” she asks as she gets up from her desk.

“Do you know who this is from?” He’s popping open one end with his letter opener.

“Oh, well,” she starts, folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “it’s from my momma” Her inflection is that of an embarrassed and entertained daughter. 

A swath of white silk flutters to the floor and he picks it up. It’s a scarf decorated with rows of small and large flowers. From… from her mother?

“I—I, uh, I wrote her about you and she insisted on sending it. Bucky got one, too, when he started.”

He couldn’t recall Bucky ever wearing a scarf. “What’d he do with it?”

She scoffs. “God knows. I don’t think he remembers getting it. It was one of his… one of his mornings.”

“Hungover?”

“Still drunk.”

Closing distance, she takes the scarf from him gently and tosses it around his shoulders. She’s so near now as she starts tying it and he can look at her while she concentrates, her eyes glittering with that hope that never seems to fade. Does her mother have the same eyes? The same round apples of her cheeks, the lovely point of her chin? And her perfume, the faint hint of roses he occasionally gets during the day now in full force as she works. He feels flush and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or where to put his eyes or what to say. A woman who’d only heard about him in letters sent her daughter to war and is sending him beautiful scarves. That’s the kind of woman who would raise Hazel.

“I always tell her that this is unnecessary, that y’all have mommas of your own to fuss over ya,” she says as she adjusts the knot at his neck and smoothes her hands over his shoulders.

“I—I don’t,” he stammers out. 

Her eyes widen and he hates the kick in his chest. “Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry, Jack, I had no idea.”

He waves her off but can’t quite find the words. There’s a yearning suddenly, one he left in the dark years ago, and he doesn’t know what’ll come out if he tries to name it. Hazel puts a comforting hand on his arm and looks at him sympathetically. “Well, I’ll tell my momma to keep sending scarves… only if—if you wouldn’t mind.”

“I could use a few more of these,” he says, glancing down at the knot at his neck. He probably looks ridiculous wearing it without the rest of his flight gear, but the accomplished smile on Hazel’s face is worth it. He’ll bear all the stares in the world if it keeps her smiling. 

She gives him one more once over before returning to her desk. “It’s a good color on you.”

“Matches my eyes?”

“Something like that.” She winks. 

His stomach flips; he thinks of his father and three weddings. 

“Oh,” she calls, “you can keep it on.”

He raises an interested eyebrow.

“The Telergma mission, you’re going. Chick sent authorization this morning.”

Three days later, Ev’s the only one who comments on Jack’s new gear after they finally get the all-clear for engine start.

“That from Franny?” his co-pilot asks. It’s a good guess; his sister would send something like it. 

“Lieutenant Keene’s mother sent it.”

Ev scoffs with a shake of his head. “Your secretary’s mother is sending you scarves? Goddamn Air Exec.”

Yeah, Jack thinks, smirking out the window and sitting a little taller. Goddamn Air Exec.

#my writing #hazel keene #jack kidd x oc #masters of the air #straighten up and fly right #jack x hazel #some of y'all have neat little banners for all of your works and i want one of those i just don't know how to make them #also this ended up being way more of a jack character study than a true intro to hazel because i wrote it in his pov instead of hers #also i can't decide if this universe is in present or past tense. who's to say

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Minors DNI

Radioapple

Alastor X Lucifer

Warnings; 18+ only, biting, blood, blood consuming (Alastor mild), bondage, anal sex, Alastor Dom, Luci Sub, collar, choking, chains, scratching.

Harm to a cucumber 😂

3k(ish) words.

Desperate Times.

Tossing and turning that night, his bed covers tangled around his legs, sweat beading on his forehead, his tongue lolling out of his mouth as he pants, his hole felt swollen almost itchy with need, his cock throbbed painfully and precum dripped from the tip, growling in frustration as his fingers couldn't quite reach what he needed them to.

Lucifer withdraws them angrily and throws on some white trousers, stealthily sneaking out of his room and downstairs with one goal in mind, (as he'd spotted it earlier when he was grabbing a snack)...

Grabbing his treasure from the cold box he practically runs back upstairs, speed being essential for his 'problem' as it throbs again reminding him of it's urgency and desperate need.

"Why do you have a cucumber?"

~Shit~ Lucifer freezes, embarrassed at being caught and keeping his back to Alastor, so the overlord doesn't spot the darker patch, or his obvious bulging erection through his thin trousers.

"I errm... Fancied a midnight snack." Lucifer says gruffly, almost kicking himself at the bad lie, giving a nervous laugh, without turning.

Alastor's eyes narrow suspiciously and subtly draws on his powers, as a precaution.

"You HATE cucumber" Alastor says in a steady voice, his grin tightening.

Lucifer almost panics, unaware of the situation going on behind him, his focus now split between trying to get rid of Alastor as quickly as possible and the aching intensity between his thighs.

"Not THIS cucumber. I like this one..."

Lucifer's heart is pounding he knows Alastor isn't that dumb, but his own brain (which isn't as fast as Alastor's on a good day), is currently preoccupied and swollen below his waistband.

"It's a cucumber, Lucifer, they taste the same, there's no difference."

Alastor smirks now as he sees the shiver and goosebumps travel up Lucifer's spine at the sound of his voice, putting together everything in context and even relaxing again as he comes to a conclusion that explains Lucifer's odd behaviour.

"Well..I erm...I'm just kinda hungry..."

Alastor smile strains, he despises being lied to by Lucifer.

"What are you doing with that fucking cucumber, Lucifer Morningstar?!" He hisses dangerously.

Lucifer nearly hyperventilating, trying defensively to get Alastor to back down. "LISTEN, WHY DON'T YOU MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS OKAY?!"

Alastor snaps, striding forward, his firm hand grabs him by the shoulder and spinning Lucifer around, taking the King of Hell by surprise, smirking down at the much shorter, angelic man. He chuckles as he tries to pluck the cucumber out of Lucifer's grasp.

Lucifer keeps a firm grip however with a slight growl, Alastor smirks as he twists his wrist and snaps the offending salad ingredient with ease instead, Lucifer almost whines in frustration.

"Don't lie to me Lucifer... Tell the truth and I might consider giving you exactly what you need... If you keep lying to me however," his voice crackles and deepens, "there will be consequences... consequences you won't enjoy so much."

Alastor's voice returns to it's normal static cadence, "Now tell me... What were you going to do with the cucumber?"

Alastor's hand comes to rest against Lucifer's throat loosely, making the King back up towards his own bedroom door.

Lucifer doesn't resist, mind back on his cock that's straining for release at the act of dominance, he whimpers as the front of Alastor's trousers rub against him, noting the Radio Demon's antlers had grown exponentially.

"Was going to..." Lucifer groans at another rub against his bottom half, he conceeds knowing how good Alastor can be, taking a deep breath, "I was going to bury it deep in my arsehole because I need to cum," He intones in defeat.

"Good boy," Alastor praises, patting his head in a patronising manner, voice lowering deliciously, his red eyes glinting dangerously, Lucifer feels his cock throb and weep, "Now get in your room, strip and get on all fours on your bed, whilst I go and get the chains." Alastor orders quite cheerfully.

Lucifer had never moved faster in his entire life, scurrying off to his room to do exactly that, discarding the snapped cucumber carelessly, as he nearly tears his trousers in his haste to get them off, bounding onto the bed and orienting himself so his needy arse is facing toward the open bedroom door.

"Good doggy" Alastor's voice says mockingly from behind him as the door snaps shut, Lucifer's whole body shivers with need as he feels the slight breeze of Alastor moving behind him, the rattling of chain making his body tense.

He feels the ice cold metal trace down his spine, making him groan and bow his back, presenting his swollen little hole, as an offering to his 'master'.

"Don't make me beg" Lucifer growls after a long pause.

"After the stunt you just pulled in the hall, that's exactly what I expect you to do," Alastor barks, as a hard stinging hand connected with the firm rounded flesh of Lucifer's arsecheek, making him moan.

The chain loops around each of Lucifer's ankles and criss crosses up his legs, winding around his thick thighs and up his torso, teasingly gliding over his nipples and winding down his arms and around his wrists of their own accord, finally pulling taught and melding seamlessly with the bedframe at Alastor's behest, via his use of powers.

"Fuck." Lucifer exclaims, panting again, the cold steel making him rut against thin air, a trail of drool sliding from the corner of his open mouth.

Alastor's expression becomes even more malicious as he walks around Lucifer's tightly bound form, stopping directly in front of the 'helpless' fallen angel, holding up the collar in his hands, a challenging brow raised.

"Please." Lucifer says eagerly, going mad with lust, bucking his hips again, his cock urgent and blush coloured with how hard he is.

-Tsk tsk- "You can beg better than that." Alastor demands, almost mockingly, still fully clothed and smug, very much enjoying himself, refusing to touch Lucifer yet.

Lucifer groans again, the chains chafe his nipples as he tries to shift again, causing him to whimper again.

-Growls- "Fine..." Lucifer looks up at Alastor pleading for mercy, his own red and yellow eyes desperate but slightly defiant, not liking Alastor ordering him around so much, "Please Al, I'll be a good pet, please put the collar on me, I need it, please... Please."

"There's my good boy." Alastor praises and fastens the collar around Lucifer's throat with ease, tightening the straps expertly, making it so tight the collar cuts off some of his blood supply, causing Lucifer to have to work slightly harder for each breath.

Lucifer keens in delight, Alastor always was good at knowing exactly how tight to make the restraints, always dancing right on the borderline of limits of making things painful but always pleasurable.

"What do you say?" Alastor demands, walking back behind Lucifer with another vicious strike to his arse, causing him to howl and precum to drip onto the sheets below.

"Thank you... Alastor," Lucifer grunts through laboured breaths and whines.

Alastor hums pleased, removing his cufflinks, before slowly and meticulously unbuttoning his shirt, and divesting his scarred, pale, toned body of his own clothing, watching the muscles on Lucifer's back ripple from the strain, knowing his wings are aching to burst forth just from the eroticism of the situation, his need worsening, and Alastor's grin getting even sharper, his tail twitching now that he's drunk on having such power over the King himself and his cock hardening at Lucifer's whining at being so close to the solution for his 'problem'.

Lucifer trembles... he nearly begs again, maddening at Alastor taking his sweet time.

Alastor pumps his own elegant, rock hard length at the sight of Lucifer all bound and ready for him.

Lucifer's hole practically winking at him in its needy, puffy, damp state, from the abuse Lucifer had already put it through earlier, it did make Alastor's task a little easier though, he runs a claw down Lucifer's back, golden blood pooling on the surface as he barely scratches him.

Lucifer curses again as he feels a long, slender, incredibly sharp fingertip now nudging at his entrance, testing the readiness.

"Please Alastor." Lucifer cracks as he whimpers, straining against the chains, trying to rock back against the finger, trying to make him go deeper, needing to be impaled, "fuck sake Alastor, PLEASE!"

Alastor smirks evilly, still stroking his own hard cock, which throbs in response to the beggy whiny royal, enjoying the power he has over Lucifer, more than the actual act itself, as he teases and torments the needy king.

"Such a slut Lucifer" Alastor says in approval, before swiftly sinking two fingers right in, diving in deep, bringing his knuckles flush against Lucifer's warm, wet, spongy skin in one go, making Lucifer cry out and say a string of 'please's' and 'thank you's' his cock jumping at the contact.

Lucifer's hole throbbed and burned with need again, more so now than even before he had anything in there, as Alastor didn't move his fingers at all, torturing him with what could be.

Lucifer growls, "Don't push me too far," he warns, feeling slight anger, frustrated and warning Alastor that a shift in dynamics might be imminent if he keeps pushing his luck, his horns sprouting and fire appearing between them.

Alastor chuckles, but recognising his pet's limit conceeds and begins pump his fingers in and out of the tight, soft hole, stimulating and stretching him out for what is to come. "Calm yourself My Lord."

He smirks as he inserts a third finger, spreading them out, testing the resistance, as Lucifer's wings spring out, narrowly avoiding colliding with the Radio Demon as he moans loudly., much to his amusement.

"Fuck yes... Please, oh fuck please Alastor... I need more... Fuck... Ah... Fuck me with your cock." Lucifer begs, knowing exactly how to get what he needs from Alastor when he's on a power trip, the chains rattle and rub against his inner thighs as he tries to thrust back harder, but is almost completely immobilised by the restraints.

It's Alastor's turn to groan now as the desperate sound of Lucifer's voice gets to him, the lewd sight of Lucifer all spread open, restrained and begging for him making him almost lose his tight grip on control, he makes a low sound in his throat, his cock throbbing almost painfully and gets on the bed, on his knees behind Lucifer, using a shadow tentacle to strike his arse once more, harder than ever, making Lucifer's arse redden as he hisses in pain.

Fisting his cock, he rubs his spongy sensitive head up and down the spread crack of Lucifer's needy, warm exposure, using his other hand to tweek the lordships balls slightly in punishment, making his pet growl and whine simultaneously, Alastor's own precum wetting Lucifer's arse even more, a static shock zinging through both of them at the attention, Lucifer biting his own lip, drawing more blood.

"Do you want my cock Lu-Lu?" Alastor teases with a shark like grin, leaning over Lucifer's body, making the now warmed chains dig into each of their bodies at the pressure, licking one in delight, as he presses himself firmly against the needy presented hole of his liege, moaning at the metallic tang on his tongue, and proceeding to lick the angelic blood off the links with a moan of his own.

"Fuck... You" Lucifer growls at the nickname.

Alastor ignores the insult, chuckling he uses one of his hands to press against the front of the collar choking Lucifer further, making his tongue come back out, drool drizzling out as he gasps for breath.

Lucifer can only whimper and nod against the current strain, giving in, and Alastor released his throat again (pleased with the submission), to allow him to speak.

"Please... Please... Fuck me... Al..."

Finally accepting this plea and without further ado Alastor sinks in smoothly, both of them moan, at the tightness and the stretch.

Alastor showing restraint and letting Lucifer adjust slightly first, enjoying the warm tight sheeth clenching around him, basking in the power and sight of Lucifer's submission for several long moments more, waiting for the telltale rattle of chains as Lucifer gets impatient again... before smiling maliciously and thrusting brutally, picking up a punishing rhythm straight away, his hips snapping brutally, knowing Lucifer can take it.

His hard thrusts causing the chains to rattle even louder, digging into Lucifer's flesh, leaving imprints, their skin colliding making a wet sensational slapping sound, his hands gripping Lucifer's hips harshly, as the king moans and hisses 'yes's', finally getting what he needs, as he's hit right in the delectable spot he's been pleading for this whole time, his eyes rolling back in pleasure, howling, as he feels the itch rubbed and rubbed over and over again, building the sensations and pressure, Alastor's sensitive nose picking up both their natural musks, the recent scent of Lucifer's fresh blood and their combined lust, he licks his lips eagerly, keeping up his punishing pace.

"Fuck!"

Alastor's smirk gets even wider, his eyes heavily lidded, feeling Lucifer's slutty hole squeeze his cock hard as he tenses in pleasure, dragging every inch of his cock in and out of Lucifer's needy hole, making sure to go balls deep with every thrust making Lucifer cry out.

Alastor grinning, looking feral, reaches under Lucifer, grasping at the neglected thick, heavy cock swinging beneath, Rolling his hips to hit that special spot inside Lucifer again, feeling his own balls drawing up in ecstacy, sweat dripping down his nose and landing on Lucifer's bloody, glistening back.

Lucifer moans as Alastor's grasp is almost painful, claws piercing the flesh on his hip, as his velvet shaft gets pumped... One... Two... Three times, before he loses all sense of control, and cries out in bliss as ropes of his cum sprays aggressively onto the bed below him, over and over again as he bursts, it seems never ending as he loses all sense of the world around him, his wings shiver, rustling, his vision goes white, as he gets light headed.

Alastor feeling the vice grip around his own cock thrusts even harder into the warm channel punishingly, Lucifer's moaning increasing in volume is music to his ears, losing control of his demonic side slightly, he sees the shadow of his full grown antlers on the wall, blood dripping down his chin.

His own balls connecting with Lucifer's sting slightly at the force of his thrusts.

Slapping skin, sweat, pain and gasping, he leans over, his body dwarfing Lucifer's trembling frame, his sharp teeth dig into the flesh they find purchase on near his neck, tasting more of the golden ambrosia.

Alastor moans, then growls out his own release, twitching, pulsing and throbbing deliciously to completion, his hips stuttering but strong, making sure to thrust every single drop inside the thoroughly used hole of the now limp King of Hell, who is now only upright due to the tight chains binding him.

Alastor takes a moment to catch his breath before sliding lewdly out of the widened dripping hole that had been cradling his softening limb, with a hiss.

Lucifer whimpers slightly, a lamenting sound as his senses return, he slowly comes down from the buzz, his wings folding away carefully.

Alastor still calming his own heart rate, uses his powers, releasing Lucifer from the bonds, Lucifer nearly drops right into the puddle of his own cum, but manages to swiftly roll over and away from the wet patch, onto his back, gasping and panting for air. "Dick," he accuses.

Alastor hums and goes to remove the collar, but Lucifer shakes his head.

"Leave it on just a little longer please?" Lucifer smirks at the look on Alastor's face, his drained cock pressing wetly against his thigh.

Alastor laughs, and in a sing song voice, "Very well, don't say I never do anything for you."

Amused as he cleans the bed with some more convenient magic, so that he can lay down too, his own spent cock feeling a bit cold and exposed now.

He gets under the covers, seeking the solace of the shelter. He allows Lucifer to nuzzle into his chest, Alastor's tail wags hidden from Lucifer at the affection, Lucifer's eyes close, sleepily, sated.

"And Lucifer?"

"Hmm?"

"Leave the fucking vegetables alone from now on."

#hazbin hotel #radioapple #lucifer hazbin smut #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin #alastor the radio demon #alastor x lucifer #hazbin alastor #alastor

[jjkamochoso]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Fluff

Rengoku Kyojuro x gn!reader

Reader has cold hands… do you think the Flame Hashira would stand for such an injustice?!

You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, focusing your energy on hanging up the laundry in front of you. Your job as an assistant to Shinobu at the Butterfly Mansion was keeping you on your feet, busy as ever, but you still couldn't warm up. By all accounts, your hands shouldn't be as ice cold as they were since it was a mild spring day, but you had always had this problem so it just became a constant in your life. You tugged on your uniform sleeve in hopes of it reaching over your hands a bit more, but you found no relief in the thin fabric. Irritated, you finished your work and decided to stay outside for a short break, hoping that basking in the sun would help thaw your freezing appendages. Looking around to see you were completely alone, you raised your palms toward the sky in an attempt to speed up the warming process. If anyone were to see you right now, they would most certainly brand you a fool. You relished the tepid air flowing around you, closing your eyes to allow for maximum relaxation-

"Y/N! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?"

Your eyes shot open as you yelped in surprise. The Flame Hashira had snuck up on you and practically given you a heart attack. If he took notice of your flustered state, he was too kind to mention it, instead beaming at you with a kind smile.

"Rengoku! You took me by surprise, I didn't hear you behind me. I'm doing alright, thank you. How about yourself?" You wanted him to take over the conversation for a moment so you could calm your breathing, your heart still racing from his unexpected arrival.

"I am doing well! I just came back from a mission and came here in search of something to ease my sore muscles." His usually unwavering gaze faltered a bit, looking to the grass you stood on for the shortest moment before landing on you once more. "I also wanted to see you."

It was a shock that you were cold before because now it felt like your whole body was on fire after hearing Rengoku's words. Was he just being friendly? Or did he hold some sort of romantic feelings toward you? You would be content either way but truly wished it was the latter. You had a crush on the man for many months now but were too shy to make your affections known, too afraid of losing your close bond of friendship.

"That's very kind of you. Is there something in particular you wanted to see me for?"

Rengoku took a step toward you, shortening the gap between you but not enough to invade your personal space. "No. I just enjoy your company very much. I would like to spend some time with you before I have to leave for another mission. That is, if you'll allow me to take up your time, of course."

You couldn't believe your ears. This handsome man desired to get to know you better? You were beyond flattered and definitely weren't going to turn him down.

"You are the most pleasant company I could ask for, Rengoku. Please, take a seat on this bench with me and rest for a bit." He followed your lead and sat next to you, your legs touching ever so slightly.

He was the first to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between you. "May I ask what you were doing when I first joined you? It looked like you were worshipping the sun. If so, I would like to learn about this custom and partake in it myself!"

You couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped your lips. "Oh, no, no. It wasn't anything like that. My hands were extremely cold so I thought that the closer to the sun they were, the warmer they would get." He nodded in understanding like it was the most normal thing on earth for a person to reach for the sky like a desperate flower. You were glad Rengoku was the one to find you in such a silly position because he was never one to judge people for things like that. He approached most situations with an open mind and willingness to learn, traits which you found admirable.

"Have they found their warmth?"

You shook your head and he gestured his own hands toward yours. "May I?"

You tentatively brought your hands in front of you and Rengoku, with the lightest amount of force possible, scooped them into his grip. You were immediately met with a cozy feeling emanating from his skin, heat finally entering your body. Rengoku's touch was astonishingly gentle for a man of his stature and status as one of the best demon slayers. Though you knew of his benevolent disposition, it wasn't your first thought that the hands of someone who's seen such horrendous things and taken so many lives (all justified, of course) could be this soothing, or... loving, almost. As he held your hands, the look on his face could be described as nothing less than full of serenity, like you two were lovers reuniting and expressing your fondness for each other. Slowly but surely the icy chill dissipated from your fingers but the feelings that were left behind in its wake were harder to figure out. Actually, maybe it wasn't so difficult after all. You had never seen Rengoku treat anyone like this before. Sure, he was overly friendly to his allies, but he never initiated physical touch like this. Besides the fact, he could clearly tell your hands had warmed up and yet was still holding on like you were a floating piece of driftwood and he was drowning in a stormy sea. You were reluctant to let go, too. You had never felt so safe, so protected, in your entire life and it didn't have to do with the fact that he was a Hashira.

"Y/N, would it be alright if I confess something to you?" Rengoku asked, his red and yellow eyes glinting in the sunlight and making your heart skip a beat.

"You can tell me anything," you replied earnestly.

He took in a steadying breath before starting. "Over the years we have known each other, you have been a wonderful friend. You're reliable, smart, and kind hearted. However, lately I find myself thinking of you in different terms. I take notice of how your eyes sparkle like stars when any source of light touches them. I envy the rain as it falls upon your soft skin. Even now, as we are surrounded by nature's most beautiful work, this scene pales in comparison to you. You have bewitched me, ensnared my soul. Would you grant me the great honor of being your partner?"

"Oh Kyojuro," you said, softly smiling, "How I've waited for the day to hear those words come tumbling from your lips. You are the sun to my moon and the only man to have ever captured my heart. It will be a privilege to be loved by you."

You felt his hands squeeze around yours a little tighter in reassurance as you exchanged lovesick grins. You hated your cold hands for many years but now, with the Flame Hashira by your side as a personal heater, you would never have to worry about it again.

#rengoku x reader #demon slayer x reader #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader fluff #kyojuro rengoku #kyojuro rengoku x reader

[hlficlibrary]

✤ Omegaverse Fics ✤

A series of posts with the top five fics of each category by kudos plus five more hidden gems from that category! Remember to leave kudos and a comment on the fics you enjoyed to show your appreciation! You can find the library's other recs here.

- Top 5 H/L Fics -

1️⃣ Cold Little Heart by seducedbycurls {T, 194k}

Louis is a soft omega with an abusive past and an alpha child A few months after getting a divorce, Louis meets Harry, an ex-military alpha wolf that offers him something -odd.

In exchange for teaching him how to cook, Harry will babysit his son, Abraham Louis really could use the help

2️⃣ Swim In The Smoke by whoknows {E, 101k}

“What about this, Captain?” Liam asks, nudging the boy kneeling between their feet with the toe of his boot. The boy hisses and swipes at him, slurring out something unintelligible around the makeshift gag Niall had to stuff in his mouth. He misses by a mile and tries again, just as ineffectively.

Harry looks down at him, at the way the sun streams over his face and shoulders, at the way the gag stretches his mouth, lips pink and chapped. He’s lithe and pretty, smudged all over with dirt. They had found him tied up below deck, mostly unconscious, next to a barrel full of gold. He’s clearly a prisoner, but there’s something familiar about him, something that niggles at Harry’s brain. Something he can’t quite put his finger on.

“Put him in my cabin,” Harry decides, turning back to deal with the rest of the loot. The boys screams out jumbled curse words at Harry’s back, muffled by the gag, and Harry can’t understand any of it.

3️⃣ With love comes strange currencies by mediaville {E, 16k}

One day One Direction will be over and Louis won't be around Harry every waking moment. He'll be able to finally get some space, let their bond dissipate as it's bound to do, if they don't mess up again. He can move to Costa Rica and forget that Harry Styles popped his first knot inside him. Until then, he's going to have to deal with this.

or, They're Accidentally Mated and Dealing With It Rather Badly.

4️⃣ You Smell Like by mystic_believexx {M, 185k}

For her part, Jay took everything in her stride, barely batting an eyelid when Louis came into the kitchen the night Harry left and said, “I seem to have accidentally become the pack’s Alpha”. 

Ever since Harry left town, Louis’ found himself with the role of pack Alpha, despite being human. So he can’t wait to hand over the reins when Harry returns. Except, it’s not quite that simple…

OR The one where Louis is the Alpha’s mate and everyone is aware of it except for Louis and Harry. Go figure!

5️⃣ Queen of Arizella by seducedbycurls {M, 277k}

Stealing from Royalty is punishable by death.

Louis starts over, doing his best to keep his hands at his sides but he is hungry and he tries stealing from the wrong Royal.

Harry is King of Arizella, he needs a Queen and who better than an omega on the run from death? Louis will learn to become the perfect Queen -the perfect fake Queen, but only for a few months.

A fake lover, a fake Queen, but a real bond.

HIDDEN GEMS:

💎 Love After the End of the World by @mercurial-madhouse {E, 162k}

“Wait. Just so I’m clear in me fucking noggin,” Niall says. “An international worldwide takeover is well under way and the only thing standing between having hot showers and a second end of the world is us five fuckers?” 

Society shattered when all electricity suddenly cut off across the globe, plunging the world into darkness. Now, Prometheus Industries is the sole remaining supply of power, a saving grace to those who survived Lights Out. As fugitives in no-man’s land struggling to break into Prometheus HQ, death lurks around every corner for Louis and Zayn. Things get complicated when a routine recon falls apart and Louis collides with Harry and his mates Niall and Liam, survivors with their own agenda.

When staying alive is already a constant battle, the deadliest weakness is to be in love. For Harry and Louis, finding each other sits on top of the endless list of What Else Could Go Wrong.

💎 Unveiled by @phdmama {M, 65k}

The train grinds to a halt and Harry leans forward in his eagerness to take it all in. It’s a gorgeous Spring day, the sky the same intense blue that he knows from home, which comforts him. There’s much here that looks almost familiar, but then so much that is new and strange to his eyes. The bustling station platform and winding streets beyond paved in cobblestones look much like home. There are vehicles ranging from small to very large, some with strange and unusual shapes of which he can only guess the purpose. But most surprising are the people. There is a crowd gathered, filled with men and women, some in what looks to be a military uniform, some in what must be the street clothes in this Land.

There are no robes. And not a single one of them is veiled.

💎 dip you in honey by delsicle / @eeveedel {E, 28k}

Princess Harry, the pearl of England, is set to be married to the youngest prince of France in just six months. Anxious about his performance on his wedding night, he enlists the help of his loyal handmaiden Louis to help him practice everything he needs to know

Omega/Omega AU

💎 I'm Weaker Without You by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist / @chai-hat-tea {T, 20k}

Alpha Lord Louis Tomlinson is a rake who refuses to settle down. Will he settle down for the Society's most talked about Omega? What about the enticing scent that belongs to the Beta? How will he react to said Beta pursuing the Omega too?

💎 Where I'm Meant To Be by Halos_Boat / @halohamilton {E, 6k}

Harry and Louis have been sleeping together casually for a while. As two Alphas they never wanted to define it as anything more.

When Louis helps Harry out with his rut so he can get it done in time for his exam, they're forced to face feelings they were harbouring for a while.

#ficrec #omegaverse #halosboat #thehalcyoniclachesist #delsicle #phdmama #mercurialmadhouse #seducedbycurls #whoknows #mediaville #mysticbelievexx