Feitan x Reader; Tangled in a Web of Spiders

Through the Eyes of the 2nd Spider Part 1

You stirred a bit in your sleep, the blanket slipping down just enough to reveal that your upper body was naked. Fei's pants suddenly felt tight around his cock, trapping it, but still he wanted to wait, so he went around the shelves to his desk and picked up a sketch pad and one of his favorite charcoal pens and brought them back to the bed. Carefully, so as not to wake you, he seated himself cross-legged on his side of the bed. A strand of hair had fallen across your face and he gently brushed it to the side, stroking the small mark on your cheek before he let the pen move across the paper. The sound it made was soothing, as always, and he relaxed as his hand took over, leaving his mind free to wander.

It had taken even Shalnark weeks to find the information he wanted, the names he needed, and it had cost a fortune getting access to it on the Hunter's website, but now at last they had succeeded. Perhaps he should let Shal come with him? Feitan had complete confidence in his own ability to make people talk, to make them tell him exactly what he wanted to know, but a manipulator could be useful as well.

Yes, he just might do that, it would be a good way to repay him for all the work and money he had put into the search. Shalnark, despite his innocent boyish looks was as coldblooded as he and Phinks were, as vicious as Uvogin had been, so he would not make a fuss about what Feitan had planned. Yes, he decided, it was a good idea, and he'd tell Shal tomorrow. It would make him happy.

The other three though, they were his real prey and a different matter. Those men had dared to take his woman and like anyone who'd ever challenged him, thinking they could beat him at his own game, they would suffer. The fact that it had happened before the two of you had actually met was irrelevant. Killing them would be personal, and he had every intention of making their deaths special. Memorable. He already had some interesting ideas, but whatever he chose it would be something slow and excruciatingly painful.

Perhaps he should invite you? He still hadn't decided. They would make a nice gift, he thought. But, no, on the other hand, you were too soft for what he had planned, and for these bastards he wanted no compromises.

Feitan looked at your sleeping form, safe here in his bed, your chest rising and falling with each calm breath.

You were his. Always had been, and always would be.

Nobody could escape their past. He himself had learned this the hard way, just like all the spiders. Still, it was possible to kill those who were part of that past, and killing was just as good, sometimes even better, than escaping.

His eyes narrowed at the thought of previous encounters with people foolish enough to think they could challenge the spider, or him. The look in their eyes when they realized that they'd been wrong, when the tables turned and he did to them what they had planned to do to him or the others, that look he enjoyed.

Returning pain, many times amplified, was his specialty after all, and the sobs and screams when they prayed for their lives, pleaded for him to stop hurting them, and later, inevitably, when they begged him for death, those screams were something he thrived on, something he knew he needed.

Then there was Hisoka. Just the thought of the man made Feitan's blood boil and his rage flared up. He quickly got it under control, he didn't want to disturb your sleep and wake you up just yet. Anyway, Hisoka would be dead soon, Danchou would see to that.

The pen stopped briefly as he frowned at the thought. Hisoka should not fight Chrollo, he thought. He should fight Feitan and die by his hand, screaming, begging for mercy, that stupid smirk wiped off his face forever. Fei sighed and muttered a curse under his breath. Unfortunately, that was Chrollo's decision, not his. He knew that Danchou deserved revenge as well and he accepted it, reluctantly. At least that treacherous clown would be dead. Just another part of their past, dead and soon forgotten. Nobody betrayed the spider and lived to tell the tale.