TOSKA [ PART I]

TOSKA [ PART I]

PAIRING : Yandere!Hoseok x Reader

SUMMARY : The Mating Season is a wondrous time for all the wolves. Well, as wondrous as Alphas fighting against Alphas for their desired Omegas can be. You wish for it to pass quickly. Receive zero offers or worse, get mated to an Alpha that had been the part of the group of wolves that had bullied you throughout your childhood. However, bad luck comes knocking at your door in the form of the Alpha’s son, also the reason you were ostracized and tormented as a child.

GENRE : Yandere AU, Werewolf AU, Omegaverse AU

WARNINGS: Bullying, Mature Language, Omegaverse, Yandere Behavior, Misogynistic Behavior, Child Abuse, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Dead Animals, Violence etc.

I do not own BTS. This in, no way, reflects their real personalities. The only reason they have been mentioned is to indicate the physical appearance of a FICTIONAL character.

My intention is not to glorify toxic behavior nor do I believe BTS member would ever act like this. It’s just a figment of my imagination. Know the difference. Please.

Part I    Part II

He was staring at you. Again.

Wait, that’s not right. Glaring was the right word. Dark, hooded eyes burnt holes into the back of your neck as you adamantly stared ahead. You curl in on yourself, the force of his intense gaze on you feeling like a physical hand upon your nape, bending it, forcing it into submission.

You didn’t need to look back to know who it was. It was always him.

And despite having grown up with his murderous, intent gaze on you, it never stopped your spine from being wracked by shivers each time the two of you were in close vicinity.

The murmurs around you, the plethora of smells attacking your newly sensitive nose and the feel of your best friend’s arm brushing against yours as he stood by your side, all bled into the background under the sheer power of his sight.

Your head, that had been up until now timidly turned down looked up as a powerful voice boomed,

“Wolves of Lucine, welcome. Today marks the commencement of the Mating Season, under the ever watchful eye of our Mother Moon. Step forward and announce your intent!”

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arte factum | pjm

After your ex-husband is found dead in his house, you’re burdened with the well-being of his latest invention, a good-looking, polite android who seems to have a peculiar interest in you.

Word count: 17k

Warnings: smut, somnophilia, obsessive behaviour, suicide, mentions of domestic and psicological abuse.

# Artifical Intelligence AU, horror, sci-fi, sub!Jimin, dom!female reader, yandere!android Jimin, vouyerism, he uses one of her panties to jerk off 😭, ma’am/Master kink, homeboy just doesn’t handle well seeing her naked, creampie, ‘unprotected’ vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), nipple play, overstimulation, fingering, horny groping, he needs to chill, face-fucking him with her fingers? idk.

A/N: lots of plot, read with caution. I don’t really know what else to say. Just, hm, enjoy the filth? Sub!yanderes are probably one of my lowest fantasies 😗✌️

Read this story listening to its own Spotify playlist.

Keep reading

— ao3.

return (15697 words) by kpopyandere

☾ chapters: 3/3. ☾ fandom: 방탄소년단 | bangtan boys | bts ☾ rating: explicit. ☾ warnings: dubious consent, threats of violence.

relationships: kim seokjin | jin/reader, jeon jungkook/reader, yandere!jungkook/reader.

characters: jeon jungkook, kim seokjin | jin, reader. 

summary: as seokjin's girlfriend, you're off-limits, but jungkook doesn't see it that way. 

the sequel, cursed stars.

wind chimes

credit for the gif goes (again) to who made it & posted it first 🤎

fairy au, royalty au

yandere! jung hoseok x f! reader (part I of II)

who would have thought that a crackpot fairy communication tutorial your friend printed off the internet would have actually been powerful enough to summon the fairy prince himself, jung hoseok? he swears upon all the stars that the two of you are meant to rule over the faes, and your refusal will not be enough to keep him away from claiming his queen.

warnings: yandere themes, violent behavior, delusions of grandeur, manipulation, slight humiliation

*quote from maya angelou; not mine

(a/n): thank you all so much for all the love for flower petal! that was my first yandere one shot, and to have it be so well received means the world to me! reading comments and theories made my day~ thus, i hope to continue writing and giving everyone good pieces. please look forward to more works in the future (even if they take a century and a half haha) love, ati

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“How much longer is it going to take, Etha?” You groaned, hiking your bag up your shoulders for the fortieth time. “We’ve been out here since sundown!”

“Shut up, I know!” Your friend replied but with excitement rather than anger. “We’re getting close now.”

“You said that twenty minutes ago,” you whined as you leaned up against a tree. 

Etha pushed her black hair out of her face. The green dye at the end was fading away into a sad gray. “The more you complain, (Y/N), the longer it will take.”

“I’m sorry we can’t all match your enthusiasm for the mystical,” you wagged your hands around in an exaggerated, joking manner. Etha huffed and shook her head in amusement.

“The pond is literally two minutes away, get up!” Etha shoved her map into her side bag and trekked on. You pushed off of the tree and followed her in fear of being left behind in the dark woods.

Once the two of you had passed a grove of trees, you were rewarded with the sight of a moderately large pond underneath the moonlight. The grass grew long where you stood and got shorter and shorter by the bank. It was the perfect scenery for a lovers’ getaway at night.

Too bad I’m here with Etha, you laughed to yourself.

“Okay! (Y/N), come here! I’m so excited.” Etha was on her knees in the grass, pulling papers out of her bag.

“I don’t know which I don’t understand more: the fact that you wanted to randomly talk to fairies in the middle of the night or the fact that I came with you. Or the fact that you think we’ll contact fairies at all.” You sat next to her and abruptly fell over when she elbowed you in the side.

“It’s going to work! This article had tons of great reviews. And I’m sure that we’ll get something from being out here, whether it be great memories, pictures, and/or fairy communication.” She said it so determinedly you knew it was better to stop asking.

“Of course, ma’am. Just let me know what you need me to do.” You said and promptly fell onto your back, admiring the moon.

Etha had chosen the night of a full moon, claiming it would result in better energy for your escapade. You might not be understanding a single thing happening right now, but there was definitely the wonderful scenery to admire in the night.

“Okay.” Etha pulled an article, a set of wind chimes, and a flute out of her bag. “This way, we both will get to experience something different.” She handed you the chimes and you placed your hand over them. 

“According to the article, you should go sit by the pond and wait until the surface is perfectly still.” Etha read the directions out to you. “Then, hold out the chimes and tinkle them over the water. Supposedly, within a minute, bubbles should rise, the water will ripple, and you will be calling out to water spirits.” She handed you the piece of paper with suggestions. 

“Oookay.” You said unsurely. “What will you be doing?”

“I’m going to try and communicate with air spirits by sitting underneath a tree in the grove and playing the flute.” She twirled the instrument with a grin. “I can’t believe these lessons are actually going to pay off.”

You both dissolved into giggles. “Whatever you say!” You replied and stood up, brushing the dirt off the butt of your jeans.

“Wait!” Etha grabbed your arm before you turned to the water. “It’s also helpful if you send out thoughts of love and friendship.”

Oh my. “Will do.” You pointed the chimes at her. “Enjoy talking to air spirits.”

“Enjoy talking to water spirits!” Etha waved frantically and walked off confidently into the grove.

You sighed before turning in the opposite direction.

You lowered yourself by the pond bank, being careful not to let the chimes sound. The pond was relatively still as there was little wind, but you could see small ripples in the water here and there. Thus, you waited.

After about three minutes, the wind stopped. You waited for another minute to be sure before extending the wind chimes over the water. You began gently shaking them and then closed your eyes.

Hello, to whoever I’m speaking to…I was brought here by a very close friend of mine. She’s impulsive and energetic but she always leads me in the right direction, so I’m glad to be sitting here and speaking with you today.

I don’t have a ton of friends, so I would be grateful if you wanted to be one of them. I also have not had a lot of successful experiences with love, so if you wanted to join me for that endeavour…may we *jump hurdles, leap fences, and penetrate walls to arrive at our own ending with full hope*.

You smiled to yourself, enjoying the sound of the chimes. I hope that you have a fantastic night and that we can meet soon. Sincerely, (Y/N).

You opened your eyes and glanced down at the water. As you expected, there were no ripples or bubbles. You shook the chimes for a few seconds more before laying them down in your lap and sighing.

While you failed to contact the water spirits, you could definitely enjoy the breeze and the smell of flowers.

Wait…flowers?

When you and Etha had first entered the field, there was nothing to see but grass. You would have noticed flowers.

A quick glance around confirmed your thoughts, but the smell was only getting stronger and stronger. Then, your hands started tingling as if you were thawing them from the numbness of the cold. 

It didn’t make any sense; it was almost as if your senses were deceiving you.

The cool, night breeze got stronger and stronger, picking up the wind chimes and almost carrying them across the lake. At the last second, you managed to grab them and hold on with your arm outstretched over the water. You watched in a panic as the article drifted off towards the sky.

The wind was whipping leaves, grass, and small stones around the plain and you shut your eyes before dirt could get into it. 

When you tried to pull your arm back into your chest, you swore you could have felt someone trying to grab your hand. Fingertips brushing against yours.

But no one was supposed to be over the water…

Right before you opened your eyes to check, you felt immense pressure in your head and crashed headfirst against the bank.

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so apparently i found this deep in the bowels of my camera roll on my phone while cleaning it up and it’s an ss from reddit. obviously idk how to send this ss to you but let me just copy-paste what’s in it:

“Sex workers of reddit: What is the saddest experience (client wise) you've had while on the job?

Not my story but I knew a girl who did "rent a night" type of stuff.

Guy asks her if she could come over. Doesn't talk about sex over the phone just if she could come over and to come hungry. She thinks he is into feeding or some shit. She arrives at like 6 p.m., pretty early for her work. She asks what he would like to do. He just cooks for her. A really big delicious meal. Later he starts to open up: his wife had passed and always loved his cooking, but he hates cooking for himself.”

if you were to write a fic based off of this, which member do you see would fit the role of the guy? it’s so sad… hope whoever this guy is has found a second chance at happiness 😣

Agh, this was absolutely touching. Thank you for sharing this, anon! Here's what came to mind. 

For Two

Pairings: Yoongi x Reader

Rating: 13+ / PG-13

Word Count: 1.4k | read on ao3

Content Warnings, Themes, & More Info: Allusions to chronic illness, death, loneliness, and sex work.

That scent again. Lemon Pledge. Enough of it to bounce the overhead Edison bulb's shine to make a glint in your eye. Which sharpens when you finally ask.

"...Why?"

It's not like you to ask why. Who, what, where, when, and how cover the basics. Besides, after years in the business, you can usually deduce why simply by the nature of the request. 

But not once in all these years have you received a request like this.

"I mean, it's been months," you backtrack, in an attempt to retroactively preface, "and dinner is always great, believe me, I'm not complaining by any means, I just..."

The kitchen faucet turns on. A gentle trickle. Subdued. Still cleansing, but not above your voice. Background noise rather than signal.

You smile to yourself, feeling safe to keep your eyes on his back while you continue with, "I know these evenings mean something to you. Believe me. In my line of work. I know this is a band-aid, or an escape, or a playground. All three, more often than not. I'm just... Like, if you're looking for someone to talk about it with..." Your eyes latch on as his elbows start to move, fingers working a soapy sponge into nooks and crannies. "I dunno, I guess I'm saying that---" Your eyebrows flick up. "I'm here to listen--- Hey, are you sure I can't help with the dishes or something?"

Loyal customers are surprisingly routined, even with their fetishes. Especially so. When you started your career, you assumed that so much of your work would be propelled by happenstance, fleeting moments that overwhelmed someone enough to be in search of you. Now, you know that for many of your clients, it takes forethought. There are systems in place. Languages to learn. And, in some ways, it becomes easier to indulge in those fantasies when you find someone who will help you figure out exactly where and when and how you will get to. When you feel safe.

So it doesn't surprise you when his ear turns at the sound of you scraping your chair back, body lifting with every intention of joining him at the sink. And it doesn't surprise you when he counters with a pleasant but firm, "No, I'm alright here. Thank you."

It doesn't even register anymore. With no more than that to go off every week, you realize that curiosity has evolved into charm has evolved into concern. You realize that you're not actually asking him why. You're asking if he feels safe.

He glances over his shoulder at you. A quick peek. A flashed smile. "How about you try that dessert?"

It's not a hard thing for you to do, you happily think, as you sit back down and reaquaint yourself with the banana bread pudding. You grin as you take a spoonful, crowning it with the caramel ice cream on the side. But you keep your eyes on his back as you do.

Once the dishes from the main course are clean, he takes a deep and satisfied breath, places his hands on his hips, arches back, cricks his neck, and shakes his head as he removes his rubber gloves.

He turns around and is thrilled to see that nearly half of the banana bread pudding is gone.

Feeling slightly guilty, you keep your spoon in your mouth.

"It's for you!" he laughs, walking back over to the table and taking his seat, "Please. Have as much as you like. There's more in the fridge."

You look down at the other, still-clean spoon in the bowl. And then you look back up at him.

"Alright, alright," he says, smiling slightly, as he leans forward for the spoon.

You take another dollop, and he gently scrapes along the sides.

You still want to know why.

Why weekly dinners. Why just dinner. Why just dinner when you know you could be doing so much more for him.

Is it you?

And does he even want more than this from you?

Maybe if you break down the "why"s. Like---

"Why banana bread pudding?" you ask.

He blinks. "Huh?"

"What made you think to make banana bread pudding?" You shrug and reach for your glass of water. "Or anything? Why did you decide on seaweed salad and spicy pork belly and banana bread pudding?"

His smile goes a little funny. "Uh," he laughs, "I dunno... I was craving seaweed salad, and when I was at the store, I saw the pork belly cuts, and I thought of this really great spice blend I had here at home..."

His eyes go a little foggy. "And then I thought it might be nice to have something sweeter for dessert to balance that out... But it's also still a little cool outside, so I wanted something warm..."

His lips widen a little more freely. "Then I looked up and realized I had somehow made it over to the produce section, and the bananas on display were overripe." 

You gawk at him. And as you dig into the pudding again, you mutter, "Ugh. That's so cool."

He smiles. He tilts his head. He goes in for more caramel ice cream. "It is?"

"I don't know the first thing about cooking," you say, treats pushed into your left cheek. "Anyone who can do it is a magician. And you---" Your eyes meet his. "You might be a god, y'know, just---" You wave your spoon around in the air. "---divining a menu like that!"

He licks his spoon clean. "Well. When you put it that way."

You switch sides, and he follows your lead, building bigger and bigger bites of banana bread and taller and taller tiaras of ice cream.

Your spoon clinks against the bowl when you ask, "Why do you wash the dishes before we finish dessert?" you ask. 

He takes a moment to swallow his spoonful. He licks his lips, more nooks and crannies to clean. And then he seems to decide something. His shoulders ease. His eyes widen with newfound clarity. His entire aura softens.

"Dessert is a treat," he says. "It's a good note to end on."

"Wait, so you leave the dishes for the next day?" you clarify.

"Who wants to do dishes after having dessert?" he asks.

You find yourself laughing. "That's so true!"

He chuckles along with you, setting his spoon face down on the lip of the bowl, the end of the handle balancing on the tabletop. 

"...That’s something that she used to say a lot."

His face shows no sharp angles. No shadows. No walls.

So you ask. 

"Why do you invite me over for... dinner?"

When he hesitates, you try to hold onto the in that you think you've found. "I'm so happy that you invite me. I'm just wondering if I can make the experience better for you. Help you ease into things. I’m open."

"Ah," he says with a knowing smile. "No need. It's actually not about sex at all."

You'd better pay attention. You have so much to learn.

"I was married," he says. He looks a little paler all of a sudden. "She, uh, died... about a year ago..."

You nod softly, your breaths a little jagged.

"She was sick. Lots of stuff. All these meds and..." He stares at the end of his spoon, still balancing on the tabletop. And then he smiles. "Y'know, even after she couldn't eat solid foods anymore, she still insisted I make her a plate."

He lifts his eyes to meet your teary ones.

"I was actually really excited to bust out those spices," he says, making you laugh.

Both of you relish a little in the warm whisky of the Edison bulb glow.

"What should I make next week?" he asks, sitting up a little. 

"Oh, no, don't ask me," you say, dabbing your eyes with the back of one hand while sticking your spoon in the ice cream and waving him off with the other. "Not getting in the way of whatever mystical thing you do."

He laughs and says, "OK, well, tell me something that might guide me. You have any taste preferences? Craving anything in particular?"

You have an idea. You don't know if it'd be pushing too far. But now that you understand more of the why, you're getting a better picture of the whats and hows.

"How about you make something that's tied to a happy memory?" you ask. "You can tell me more about her."

He brightens. Maybe not like dawn breaking. More like light creeping, sun returning after a thunderstorm.

He lets you help him place the last few dishes in the sink. And then he walks you to the door with a grateful smile.

You reach out for your customary handshake.

He takes your palm in his.

"Goodnight, Yoongi," you say.

When you give his hand a warm squeeze, he squeezes back.

The Cul-de-Sac Cons | JJK, JHS

pairings: jungkook x reader, hobi x reader

rating: 18+ / Mature 

synopsis: Your two-story Tudor sits at the end of the cul-de-sac, miles away from the life that you used to lead. The life that involved more than a few scrapes here and there. The life that kept you on the run. But here, with your darling husband, you’ve found roots. You’ve found peace. The kind of peace that, unfortunately, could only be ruined by the new neighbors moving in. 

c/w, themes, & more info: fic page

playlist: The Cul-de-Sac Cons

author’s note: Completed! Thanks so much for reading along with me. This one was really experimental for me, really tugged at my heartstrings, and I hope you really enjoy it. 💜

chapters:

01: The Job | read on ao3 | 20k words

02: The Game | read on ao3 | 28k words

03: The Sting | read on ao3 | 23k words

04: The Heist | read on ao3 | 22k words

05: The Switcheroo | read on ao3 | 21k words