#go follow and devour this stuff!

[soapsdish]

today I'm giving myself a little treat of boba & a feta and spinach quiche from master donuts and rereading yeenybeanies' Smallest Cyber Specialist and all of their g/t and naga stories, especially their Living with Giants series!

[agnesclementineblog]

I've recieved my order from @arinavah like 15 mins ago I've been losing my mind since then. The artstyle is making me want to eat my phone and the quality of both the zine and the enamel pin is so so so good.

I've been looking forward to these and they did not disappoint me! 🥺❤️

[grimalkinmessor]

So tired of all the fics that have Harry enjoy reading but it turns him into a snobby cynical asshole. Like reading would turn him into a different person completely. Shut the hell up maybe I just want to see him gushing over the latest fantasy series he stole from the nearest library and going absolutely fangirl insane when he sees a dragon for the first time, all while simultaneously backing as far away from his textbooks as possible and charging headfirst into a fight with a basilisk without researching a damn thing about it. LET HIM CONTINUE TO BE AN IMPULSIVE DUMBASS PLEASE I JUST WANTED HIM TO HAVE SOME COMFORT IN THE CUPBOARD LIKE DAMN 😭

[venusjeon]

angel in the marble

after you fail to pickpocket him, the famous yet arrogant artist Jeon Jungkook takes you off the streets to make you his servant, and the more you know him, the more you realise he's not as detestable as everyone claims he is.

♔ PAIRING: michelangelo!jungkook x servant!reader

♔ GENRE: high renaissance au, angst, smut, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 8k

♔ WARNINGS: homelessness, stealing, mild swearing/violence/drinking, 90% of this is bickering lmao, mentions of minor characters' death, jealousy and kinda possessiveness?, referenced unconsensual groping (not by jk), a bit of blasphemy, making out, groping, fingering, rough angry sexxx, choking, slapping

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: fun fact this is mostly historically accurate! jk's characterisation, the grocery list doodles, the sack of rome, the beef with his brother, the encounter with his rival (raphael)... are all taken from michelangelo's actual life, even some stuff is quoted from his letters lol. man was fanfic material.

1529, Rome

“How much for that one?”

“No, that one’s sold already.”

It was a lively morning. After days of heavy rainfall, those of high social class were eager to get out and meet under the gentle sun of spring, whose glare reflected on the precious stones of their jewellery; while those of low, out of necessity, couldn’t wait to reopen their businesses or set up their stalls and get back to work. You liked to eye them all as you strolled the streets of Rome.

“To whom?”

“Your friend Taehyung.”

“Agh… How much is that prick paying you?”

The point of the matter was that it was bustling, some colliding if they looked away from where they were going for more than a breath. It worked in your favour for it was then easier to make yourself scarce right after stealing bags of coins, such as those of the three men seemingly bargaining by a workshop’s entrance out of which a large block of marble was being dragged. Perfect.

“Three ducats.”

“Three?! He’s robbing you of two ducats. I’ll pay you the five it’s worth.”

You kept your head low as you approached the pair that seemed wealthier and with those stealthy hands of yours unfastened the bags tied to their belts. After all, pickpocketing was a skill you’d had under your own for some years now, so this was bound to go smoothly.

Because you didn’t realise there was a guardian with them, perhaps you’d grown arrogant.

“I’m sorry, maestro. It’s reserved.”

“But it’ll become a waste in his possession!”

As you slipped away into the crowd, mouth watering at the fresh-baked bread you were going to devour as soon as bought, this brown dog leaped up at you out of nowhere, ignoring your desperate efforts to shake him off. If anything, they caused him to bark.

No, no, no…

The three men turned to the scene playing out not so far, and thinking his dog was bothering you one of them shouted, “Bam, come here, boy!” but as he obediently ran to his owner, you were too slow to hide the bags in your hands. It only took the pair a second to make them out, check whether theirs still hung on their belts, find them not, work out you’d stolen them, look back up, and find you not either.

Of course, you’d made your escape by then, dived into the sea of people and swum through them as quickly as possible, only stopping when you reached an empty vaulted alley to catch your breath.

That was ridiculously close. If you weren’t more careful next–

Your train of thought was interrupted by someone grabbing you by the arm from behind and pushing you against the nearest wall. A grunt accompanied the thud, and a gasp followed at the sight of the two men from before—dog included. Pinned in place, it’d be a bad idea to fight back or attempt to run away again. Fuck’s sake.

“Do you know what happens to thieves?” the one cornering you asked so close that when the cold breeze rustled his hair, some strands grazed your face. You looked away to avoid the tickling rather than out of fear, or so you wanted to believe. “They have a hand cut off. Seems fair, doesn’t it, Jimin?”

By contrast, that Jimin didn’t look intimidating, otherwise still catching his breath from the chase, but he did snatch the coin bags from your hands. “It doesn’t have to be so, maestro. We got our money back. She’s… just a girl.”

“And that exempts her of crime?”

“Please, don’t report me,” you begged, humiliating as though it was.

“Why shouldn’t we?” the maestro scoffed. Maestro… You were being threatened by a damned craftsman, the other one probably his assistant.

“Because I don’t want to lose a hand?”

“Oh, but we wanted to lose money, did we?” You rolled your eyes, and he released his grip only to step away. “Take us to your father, brat. He’ll answer for you.”

It took you a moment to respond, “I don’t have a father, or anyone... Only I can answer for my actions.”

“You’re a beggar?” Jimin asked, taking pity as he studied your appearance for the first time. Dishevelled hair, tattered dress, unpleasant smell… Yes, they should’ve guessed.

“She doesn’t beg, though, does she? She steals.”

“Only from cunts.”

His head snapped to meet your glare, and Jimin laughed, “You seem to not know whom you speak to.” He could be Jesus for all you cared. Uninterested, you petted the dog, Bam, seeing as he’d leapt up at you again. “This is Jeon Jungkook.”

You froze. The Jeon Jungkook? The famous artist who painted and sculpted for the Pope? Whom faraway kings and even emperors commissioned? The one whose genius was said to be changing the world?

At the lack of attention, Bam returned to his master, and that snapped you out of your shock to ask, “Then why do you whine?” The two men frowned, having clearly expected an apology paired with the usual bootlicking. “As if you need that bag more than I!”

“What nerve,” he scoffed again, making you wince by grabbing your arm tighter than before and starting to drag you into the next street. “You’re going straight to the authorities!”

“Wait,” Jimin intervened, thank God. “Weren’t you in need of a servant, maestro?”

“So?”

Jimin pointed at you with his gaze as though it was obvious. “You’re in need of a servant, she’s in need of a roof.”

“I would rather have a hand cut off.”

“I would rather have her hand cut off too.”

Jungkook tried to resume dragging you, but Jimin blocked his way with a soft smile. “What’s your name?”

“Y/N…”

“Do you know how to take care of a household?” Slowly, you nodded, melancholy engulfing you at the memory of cooking or sweeping the floor with your mother once upon a time. Somehow, she always found a way to make chores fun... “Then you qualify for the job. You’ll have three meals a day and a bed to sleep on. And you, maestro, a servant who’ll work her hardest, lest you fire her and she ends up in the streets again.”

Both you and Jungkook reluctantly glanced at each other. Truth be told, you didn’t prefer losing a hand to living with him, you just didn’t like him. Despite being a celebrity, he was a stranger. It just wouldn’t work.

But then, why were you holding your breath, hoping he’d accept?

“We shouldn’t have left Namjoon’s workshop. The marble is about to be delivered,” he said walking away. The air left your lungs in disappointment. It seemed you were to remain a stray cat. Jimin pressed his plump lips apologetically as he gave you enough coins to buy that bread, and you nodded, grateful all the same for his trying. You watched him rush to Jungkook’s side but when this one saw him, he turned around. “Hurry up, brat. If Taehyung gets that block of marble, I’ll not take you in.”

Since the first day, you could attest to Jeon Jungkook’s nature being as rough and uncouth as the rumours claimed, and after living alone with him for two months still believed gossip such as that he’d got the scar on his left cheek in a tavern fight—in which, if you’d chanced to be present, you would’ve rooted for the other individual.

It appeared it wasn’t just others Jungkook was harsh to. However rich his talent had turned him, he behaved like a poor man, consuming food and drink sparingly and out of necessity instead of pleasure, spending only the money required to live decently, sleeping little in order to work on commissions from dawn to midnight…

Why he chose to take little care of himself was a mystery to someone who previously had not been allowed a choice, even if putting work before all was in order to thwart Kim Taehyung’s plans of ruining his career, as he claimed. You doubted his rival was obsessed with him so, but had learned to agree with whatever Jungkook grumbled to avoid disputes. Most times.

Deep down, you had a feeling your boldness amused him. Who else dared get on his nerves?

“I think all you artists fluttering around the Pope are no more than slaves to money,” you let drop once while making his bed. Bam was sleeping peacefully under the window, while Jungkook leaning against the door’s frame behind you, offended to the core. He could help, you thought, or at least loosen my corset a little…

“I, a slave? I’ll be damned… There is an angel inside every block of marble, and I’ll have you know I carve to set it free.”

“Is it the angel that charges the Pope, then, master?” You could feel him barely restraining the urge to throw you out the window, smiled as you finished smoothing out the blankets.

“You missed a wrinkle there.”

Hands on your hips and frown on your brows, you examined the neatly arranged coverings of his bed. “Where?”

“On your face,” he muttered before making his leave.

Not his finest jibe, but the metaphor did stay with you. An angel inside the marble… It perhaps applied to Jungkook himself, though you’d never tell him.

One instance it came to mind was recently, when his assistants and apprentices were invited over for dinner.

Usually, he’d tell you which meals he liked and you’d ask at the marketplace which ingredients to buy, but now that about ten meals were to be cooked a list was needed. So there he sat on his desk in his study, inking said list as you waited in front of him, fiddling with the undershirt that peeked out of your dress’ sleeves. Given that your eyes were fixed on it, you only learned Jungkook was done when the sound of his quill scratching the paper ceased.

“Be back no later than dusk,” he ordered, “I bet there are still Germans and Spaniards lurking about.”

A year had passed since the Sack of Rome, but the mention of it sent a shiver of fear down your spine. Whatever the political reasons for it, you hated everyone involved, for Hell itself would’ve been a more beautiful sight to behold those nine months when the Tiber’s waters remained painted red…

You were lucky to make it through. Your family wasn’t.

“Yes, master.”

“Here,” he said handing you the paper, then picked another letter from a pile of correspondence he’d been going through before your arrival. Jungkook was about to snap its wax seal when he looked up to realise you hadn’t moved an inch. “Why are you here? Away with you!” He saw the reason in the way you avoided eye contact. “You can’t read, can you?” Met with a silence charged with embarrassment, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, “Give me the list.”

Getting hold of the quill again, Jungkook began… doodling?

You tilted your head but couldn’t see well what he was drawing until he finished and returned the list to you. Then, your lips parted. Each item on the list was illustrated next to its name: ten loaves of bread, a jug of wine, tortellini, four anchovies, two fennel soups…

“I’ll teach you to read when I have time. This will do for now.”

“You’d do that?” For me?

Jungkook ignored you, before he went back to reading his letters complimenting the good gesture with an irritated, “Hurry up.”

That night his co-workers arrived one by one, Jimin the first. The sight of him when you opened the door brightened up your mood.

Unlike a certain someone he was always sweet to you, genuinely interested to know how you fared even if you were just a servant. He claimed that mattered not to him, that you were both commoners and thus equals.

“Look at this place, it’s spotless! And you know I’m furtive, so I won’t get in your way,” you told Jimin as you escorted him through a hallway, bright from the torches hung on the walls that you’d lit up earlier.

He laughed, “I cannot make you my servant, Y/N, you’re maestro’s.”

“But he’s going to drive me mad… To tell you one of many examples, he often falls asleep in his clothes, and who but I is to take his boots off so they don’t get the sheets dirty? If the chalk on his fingers or the dust from the chiseling on his hair won’t already. Bam is far cleaner…”

Jungkook had a workshop he barely set foot in, preferred his team made use of it instead to not be bothered by their idiocy. His words. So it was in a chamber on the ground floor of this house he gave way to artistic insanity. In your book, that meant constant cleaning.

Jimin looked at you fondly. “Sounds nightmarish.”

“It truly is!”

As soon as the two of you entered the dining hall, Bam ran from Jungkook’s side by the fireplace to Jimin, who was as excited to see him.

“Good night, maes–”

“Do you think I’m deaf, ungrateful brat?” Jungkook interrupted him to bark at you. “Rome is full of people begging to get a piece of me, so if you don’t like it here, I’ll just get someone else!”

“You say that and yet keep me like a prisoner!”

“As if you don’t have it better here than anywhere you’ve burdened with your presence before!”

“There, there…” Jimin interjected to de-escalate, kneeling to better stroke Bam. “Maestro, I’ve seen your latest sketch of the Virgin and Child. She resembles Y/N.”

Both you and Jungkook failed to fight off the embarrassment, gazes unable to find a place to settle. Sitting down on the large table, he explained, “It was just one time… I had used Yoongi as a model, but the Madonna looked too masculine... and rather than going through the trouble of finding some girl and hiring her, I had Y/N pose for me… So what! Why bring it up out of nowhere…”

“Because maybe you just need a bit of distance from time to time. With permission, I too would have Y/N pose for m–”

“Absolutely not.”

“Now, why the hell not?” you groaned stamping your foot, startling poor Bam. Hope had been born inside you in a second and cruelly crushed in the next.

“Because I say so. And watch your tone with me.” As usual, the mutual glaring would trick anyone into thinking the next step would be murder. Jimin, who knelt there awkwardly, certainly thought so, at least until the bell rang. “Now go answer the door!”

What happened later, though, rendered the fury Jungkook had evoked in your heart nonexistent and instead seized the thing in a clasp of distress.

In the morning, he walked in when you were sweeping the kitchen. At once you forced the sobs to stop and turned around so he wouldn’t see you wipe your tears.

“It’s past nine, where’s breakfast?” he asked in shock that you hadn’t even started making it, the table there empty.

You swore under your breath before leaving the broomstick leaning against the nearest wall, flushed face kept out of Jungkook’s sight, then in a haste fetched a plate, a knife, and a leftover bread loaf. “Apologies, master, I forgot. I’ll be upstairs in a minute.”

Sniffling betrayed you, at which Jungkook frowned. “Are you crying?”

Great, the question just about especially designed to make one well up. Not trusting your voice anymore, you shook your head. Jungkook approached, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the task at hand, now cutting a few slices of the bread.

“Have you broken something?” You shook your head again, the suppressed sobs making your chin tremble. Jungkook took a deep breath before asking with a surprisingly soothing tone, “Then what’s wrong?”

“You won’t believe me.”

“Try me.”

Within an hour, he’d summoned a meeting consisting of all who’d attended dinner the previous night.

A seemingly calm Jungkook was sat at the head of the table, elbows sunk on it and fingers interlocked. You stood behind him, head still low out of shame. A tense silence had fallen in the chamber some time ago, and sick of it, Jimin shattered it.

“Have you anything to tell us, maestro?”

“I was waiting for Biagio to do so.”

The man was one of Jungkook’s favourite assistants who had worked with him for years, even longer than Jimin. And if it was possible for your position to be trickier, he belonged to some noble family.

“Me? But I’ve nothing to say, maestro.”

Jungkook leaned back in his chair. “My servant will, then. Y/N?”

Bastard. If you are going to fire me, why make me go through this?

“Last night, w-when I left this hall to go refill the wine jug… Messer Biagio followed me into the kitchen, and… h-he trapped me from behind, and started t-to touch me…” Your vision soon blurred, hence why you couldn’t see clearly how concerned Jimin was for you, or how Biagio jumped up in outrage. “I managed to push him away, and ran upst–”

“How dare you slander me, wench? Maestro, you do not believe this!”

“Do I not?”

“She’s lying! I caught her stealing sketches from your study, likely to sell them, so she’s trying to get rid of me!”

You almost scoffed. Only an idiot would choose the one occasion guests had come over and her absence would be noticed to carry out a theft.

Jungkook tilted his head. “I thought you had nothing to say. Why would you keep such a thing just now?”

Biagio gulped. “I deemed it best to mention it later, in private... You won’t believe a pickpocket before an old friend, will you?”

Silence returned, your breath still as you saw all the assistants and apprentices visibly take pity on him. The only one who didn’t was Jimin, but even on his face there was a hint of hesitation. Jungkook’s, you couldn’t see from behind, but after an eternity he stood up and walked over only to put a hand on the shoulder of Biagio, who smiled in relief.

A quiet sob broke through your lips, heart sinking. You’d needed Jungkook to believe you in this. Not because of the consequences his protection as your master could save you from, but because, like it or not… he was the closest thing to family you had.

It turned out he did believe you, judging by the punch landed on Biagio’s jaw out of nowhere. And the next one on his cheekbone, and on his nose. Before everyone around the table had barely stood up to stop Jungkook, he’d already thrown Biagio down and straddled him, pulling his doublet’s collar in a close, tight grip as he continued beating him up. Blood was drawn, but for once, you didn’t mind having to scrub it later.

Jungkook’s influence trumped a whole noble house’s, you learned in the course of the months Biagio tried his mightiest and failed most miserably to have him arrested. Perhaps because of the Pope sitting on his shoulder.

That he’d taken your side was still hard to believe, all he’d grumbled with a shrug when you thanked him while tending to his wounds from the fight being, “I’d been waiting for the chance. I always thought Biagio was a weasel.”

With the matter resolved, life returned to normal—well, whatever that meant in Jeon Jungkook’s household. Because calling for you at the top of his lungs like a madman was not normal. The first time he’d done it you’d raced downstairs, afraid something horrible had happened, only for him to have you close a window as it was getting chilly. Devil rot him. You rushed no longer after that, much to his complaints.

Today, he didn’t notice right away when you appeared under the cased opening, and good thing he didn’t, for he was polishing a bust with sandpaper… shirtless.

Product of hours carving stone into his desired shape or occasionally beating someone up, he could brag of having muscles, which the current task had covered in a layer of sweat and dust. The way they flexed with each movement had you compelled, wanting to reach out, feel if his skin was as hot as the blood pumping through your veins faster and faster. Then your gaze moved to the bust and whatever spell you were under broke.

Hardly an angel was that widowed noblewoman, whom you wished had stayed trapped inside a block of marble. Her name was Madonna Maddalena, and she’d come some weeks past to make a commission covered in pearls, gold, and boldness.

“My friends refused to accompany me today. You’re said to be… disagreeable, which I’m sure is untrue. However, all of them do want to know if you’re as fine-looking as is also rumoured, maestro” she told Jungkook within minutes of meeting him, still by the entrance!

Now you can tell them he’s not, you bit your tongue before it remarked, as this wasn’t Jimin but a patron not to be scared away by your bickering. It wouldn’t be true anyway. All your master lacked in manners, he made up for with looks… Which you’d never say out loud. You’d never say either that he looked even better when irked.

“I’ve heard many rumours about myself, most of them nonsense. My appearance was involved in none.”

She smiled seductively. “I suppose I’ll have to be the one to spread them.”

“The weather is pleasant today,” Jungkook changed the subject, flustered beneath the formal demeanour. “Shall we have wine in the garden?” You left to prepare it not before catching Maddalena raise her brow at you in disapproval. She must’ve been able to tell you thought she was a pompous cunt.

The beautiful flowers you cared for tried their best outside, but the air didn’t get any better.

Sat around a small table, Maddalena explained she wanted a bust of herself by his talented hand to decorate the main hall of her palazzo. You served them wine, not really listening until Jungkook started playing hard to get. The hundred times you’d told him it wasn’t a good tactic to make his labour out to be too prestigious had apparently fallen on deaf ears.

“Any other artist could carry this out, Madonna. I am working for the Pope these days…” he subtly scolded her, a mere mortal, for wasting his precious time. And he wondered why he had a reputation for being arrogant.

Maddalena put his thoughts into plain words, “So why should you stoop to taking commissions from an insignificant widow?”

“Correct,” you said under your breath, luckily heard by none from the background, where you stood holding a wine jug until the madonna raised her cup and you approached to refill it.

“It is then fortunate I’m to marry a nephew of the Pope’s.”

Swayed by her future influence, Jungkook smiled back. “So it is.”

“But not for another week. ‘Till then, I belong to no man.” The suggestion in her tone almost drove you to spill wine all over her. No, better yet: order Bam to sic on her. He’d do it.

Just, who did this woman think she was? And why did Jungkook not kick her out right afterwards? It made you wonder whether he’d enjoyed the flirtation. Whether he would’ve been the one to take things further had his inconvenient servant not been present. It was common for men to have affairs and lovers, but it didn’t sit well with you that Jungkook might. Not that you ever imagined him doing any of that, for goodness’ sake–

“What took you so long?”

Jungkook’s voice brought you back to the present, under the cased opening.

“I was lazing about, as always,” you quoted his favourite false reprimand, making him roll his eyes, your own dropping to the floor when he walked closer.

“In that case, prepare a bath for me.”

“Yes, master.”

You sighed at all the work ahead. That being a servant was worlds better than living in the streets didn’t mean you looked forward to collecting gallons of water from a well, carrying them back, heating them, transferring them to a tub, then washing Jungkook—because you did wash him.

Biagio had hurt his left shoulder bad and ever since, he’d needed assistance in certain activities. Curious how he could otherwise chisel a goddamned bust without problem.

Jungkook’s full nudity only made you blush if you stopped scrubbing, so knelt with tucked up sleeves before the wooden tub he was reclined on, scrubbing away the dirt on his skin with lavender-scented soap you were. Maybe all the stupid feelings you’d been suffering lately stemmed from there…

Head resting on the edge, he was exhausted from the long day of work, taking your rubbing as a relaxing massage. You, however, couldn’t ignore the stinging guilt, what with the scar on his shoulder right in front of your face. He probably felt your breathing on it.

“I’m sorry you got hurt…”

Jungkook fought heavy lids only to see you avoid him. Allowing yourself to be vulnerable in front of him was embarrassing, as when he’d caught you crying, but he didn’t take advantage of the fact to humiliate you. Jungkook may be an ogre, but he wasn’t cruel.

“I’ve received worse for less,” he assured you in a calm, low voice. It sounded soothing to your ears.

“That, I don’t doubt,” you scoffed, glancing at his other scar on the cheek. “Did you also get that one in defence of some lady?”

“You’re nowhere close to a lady.” It could be done, you mused. Drowning him. “This was courtesy of my brother.”

“You have a brother?” It dawned on you how little you knew of him. Surely, most had heard it all about the divine Jeon Jungkook, but you’d never cared enough to learn past the shell of gossip, even after months of living with him. In fairness, he’d never asked about you either. You preferred it that way.

“Brothers,” he corrected you. “The one who did this to me was a wayward fool. Had to teach him a lesson.”

“Looks like he taught one to you.”

“I left with a scratch, he with a limp.” The conception of two brothers hurting each other so harshly widened your eyes for a second, and Jungkook noticed, for he added, “He was whoring around, wasting the money I worked hard to send, bullying our other brothers as well.”

Much made sense about Jungkook all of a sudden. Not his personality, that was incomprehensible. But why he killed himself to earn money and yet barely spent it… He had a family to provide for. Once again, you were reminded of his metaphor. Could an angel be in there?

Carrying on washing Jungkook, you dragged the sponge over to his neck. Then his collarbones, his chest, his abs just peaking above the water... They did look like a sculpture’s, especially wet and soaped, reminiscent of polished marble when the light of the torches reflected on them. Swallowing hard, the back of your fingers gingerly graced Jungkook’s muscles, both soft and firm. Slippery. Whatever possessed you to keep feeling them, you lacked the will to expel from your body, and so without realising your grip on the sponge loosened until it fell to float away, fingertips now free to roam over his abs.

You were slowly trailing downwards, past the water’s surface, when your wrist was seized and held in the air in a warning manner, the startle almost making you scream.

Sat upright, Jungkook was glaring at you so fiercely you feared for your life. But he didn’t say anything and instead just breathed hard, jaw clenched… almost as if he was holding back. Your rising heartbeat was deafening in the silence waiting for something to happen, anything, but what did wasn’t what a side of you anticipated with excitement.

Jungkook just let go of your wrist and returned to his previous position, and you got hold of the sponge and finished washing him, albeit holding your breath the entire time.

Days later, you came dangerously close to being fired.

The Pope had summoned Jungkook—something about a portrait commission—and you were to carry his bag filled with sketches for him due to his shoulder injury. As you navigated the ever-busy streets of Rome with him, the cold autumn breeze made you regret not putting on an overgown. The cioppa you’d bought with your own salary and not stolen. It brought a smile to your lips that faded at the realisation your mother would’ve reminded you to put it on before going out.

The sorrow pestering you turned to confusion when Jungkook stopped walking and tsked, telling you loud enough to be heard by all, “Look at him, the chief of police, with such an assemblage.”

A well-dressed man and what appeared to be his entourage walked in your direction, halting near enough. You didn’t have to ask to know this was his rival, the renowned painter Kim Taehyung.

“Whereas you, like an executioner, walk alone,” he mocked Jungkook, then noticed you standing behind him like a timid child. “Not completely, my mistake. Maestro, where in your barren soil did you plant such a flower?” He walked over to you, intentionally bumping Jungkook’s wounded shoulder as he passed, causing him to grunt lowly. From up close one was bound to marvel at how handsome Taehyung was, but you didn’t need proximity to tell he was a prick. Miles away, you would’ve known. “Why don’t you come work for me, flower? I’ll make you my muse.”

Jungkook scoffed again, “What, for your horseshit paintings? She’d be a fool to.”

Taehyung turned around to face him, feigning confusion with a smile. “But, maestro, how could they be so if you were once heard saying that all I have in art, I got from you?”

"You naturally have to resort to plagiarising my master’s genius if all you do is horseshit,” you countered, earning surprised looks from every man present, some laughs too, you were proud to say. Jungkook was certainly smirking. Taehyung opened his mouth, but you walked past him uninterested before a response came out of it.

“Good girl,” Jungkook laughed while leaving the crime scene, and for some reason your cheeks burned hot.

The incident happened once inside the Vatican.

Its grandiose corridors alone made you feel small, too unimportant to walk them, whereas Jungkook did so with determination, knowing he belonged at the top of the world. What with your tempestuous relationship, it was easy to forget he was famous throughout Europe. His feet would still never be kissed by you. Someone had to humble the man, right?

At some point the two of you arrived at a door flanked by guards, and averse, you grabbed the sleeve of Jungkook’s doublet.

“Do I have to go in?”

“Too good for the Pope, are you?” He shook you off. “Come on.”

“Damn you…” you muttered.

“What did you just say to me?”

“After you, master.”

Telling himself he’d be late if he scolded you, Jungkook turned and nodded at the guards, who opened the door of a chamber whose walls were frescoed with angels and saints, likely by Taehyung, giving off the impression one was in Heaven. When you saw him sat on a golden chair, old and grey, enjoying the tune of a lute player, you felt as though you’d just entered Hell.

The audience lasted for ever. While you stood by the door, Jungkook showed the Pope some sketches of the portrait for him to choose his favourite and then they talked and talked of politics. All you could do was fix your gaze somewhere on the floor and sigh.

“Yes, Your Holiness, this is the servant I mentioned…” A frown proceeded your looking up to see Jungkook somewhat embarrassed, scratching his nose as if to hide his face. He talked of you to others? Doubtless to complain…

With a sweet voice as if he was talking to a little girl, the Pope asked you, “What is your name?”

“None of your business, Your Holiness.”

The musician’s tune ceased abruptly, allowing Jungkook’s faint gasp to be heard. Then fell a short silence spent by the Pope blinking, taken aback. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me.”

Jungkook was quick to fake a laugh, though sweat formed at his temples. “A jest! She meant no offence, Your Holiness, but to make you laugh.”

You held the Pope’s glare in defiance, indifferent to the fact he was the most powerful man in the whole of Christendom.

By some miracle, he let it go, and you left that chamber minutes later with your head as yet attached to your body. Your arm wouldn’t be for much longer, though, given Jungkook was forcibly dragging you all the way out to the streets, pushing you into the first alley he saw.

“Are you out of your mind?!” he shouted, towering over you menacingly. Unlike the day you’d met, you weren’t scared, rather furious as him as you stood your ground. “That was the Pope, you fool!”

“So?”

Jungkook was in utter disbelief. “He could’ve ordered your execution– mine too!”

“Well, nothing happened!”

“Nothing?! I’m sure to fall out of favour!” He paced around, anxiety quickening his breath. “Years of pouring my soul into my craft, of grovelling before the right people, all thrown away! Good God, your attitude may cost me everything…”

“And what about me?! Everything lost to me does not matter?!”

Jungkook stopped to frown. “What the hell are you talking about?”

It was now you who walked up to him. “I didn’t have a job, or a reputation, or admirers. I had only a family, and I never wished for anything else! That monster you work for took them from me. When the foreigners’ armies came and everyone rushed to Castel Sant’Angelo, he gave the order to close the gates as soon as he was safe behind them! You must have been there with him, weren’t you? Well, we weren’t. We were left outside to be slaughtered. And I wish I had been, like my parents, so I didn’t have to suffer the likes of you any longer!”

Tears were streaming down your face by the end, Jungkook just staring back at you. It didn’t surprise him that your parents were dead or that they’d been killed during the Sack, but that it was so deep a wound left festering in your heart that you didn’t mind being put out of misery. He surmised your disrespectful behaviour towards him was also fruit of your pain, especially if you deemed him an ally of the one who caused it.

“The few things I own… They’re wasted on me. Throw them away or give them to your next servant,” you sobbed, taking for granted you were fired. Anyone with half a brain would indeed have you dismissed, and part of you knew it was bound to happen, that you would go back to breaking in fucking churches to spend the night.

So you turned around into the main street, set on wandering until your legs became too sore not to collapse. With any luck, a carriage would run over you. But warmth then surrounded your hand, and you looked down to see Jungkook’s holding it tight enough to force you to halt. Though still mad, a hint of compassion sparkled in his eyes.

“Let’s… Let us just go home.”

Home. His house had felt so for a while now, truth be told. Himself too.

After that, you non-verbally agreed on a ceasefire—avoiding quarrels, that is, which was quite the task for both.

Such as now that Jungkook had you inking down a letter in his name. First of all, did you look like a scribe? If you’d known in advance the lazy arse would teach you to read and write for this, you’d have chosen to remain illiterate. And second, this was your short break before making dinner, intended to be spent playing with Bam. The poor thing was also in the study, at least being stroked by his owner, who was sat beside you on the desk.

“… I send you my regards, may God keep you from all harm. Jeon Jungkook in Rome,” he finally finished dictating, and you recording. “Give it to me, I’ll seal it.”

He was melting the wax with which to do so when the bell rang, to his surprise. Sighing, you stood up and went to open the door to whom turned out to be Jimin. The sight of him brightened you up, and yours stretched his lips into a smile.

“Evening, Y/N.”

“Good evening! I didn’t know the master was expecting you.”

“He isn’t…” You welcomed him in, brows joining at how he continuously chewed on his aforementioned lip and breathed deep through his nose as he followed you. Had something happened…? A decision to eavesdrop was made en route to the study.

Though Jimin requested for you to stay once there, and nothing could have prepared you for the reason why.

“This actually concerns Y/N…” You and Jungkook exchanged confused looks, him leaning against the desk and crossing arms as though he didn’t like the sound of that. Jimin fixed his already perfect clothes before addressing him, “I’ve come to ask for her hand in marriage.” Your jaw dropped. “I know it’s sudden at the lack of previous courtship, but I thought I should ask for your permission before engaging in it, maestro. She’s a lovely girl… and I think she’d be happy as my wife. Worry not, I won’t ask for a dowry or for her to stop working… Although on second thought, fewer hours of service would be ideal.”

This wasn’t real. It couldn’t be happening.

Jungkook must be thinking the same, for he squinted to ask, “Are you drunk?”

“N-No, of course not.”

“Are you sure? You want to marry a servant with little to her name.” He had a point, so you weren’t offended. If politics weren’t the reason for a union, did this mean… Jimin had feelings for you?

“Maestro, you say it as if I were a lord,” he chuckled. “I don’t care about Y/N’s possessions, I’ll provide for her anyway. I’ve… always been fond of her. And I dare say she shares the sentiment.”

Betrayal hid safely behind a look that asked if there was any truth to that. Obviously not! There was no romance in your own fondness for Jimin. If anything, you had thought he saw you as a younger sister to look after, therefore as a protective older brother you saw him. But so shocked were you still that no words managed to come out, and Jungkook’s gaze shifted back to Jimin.

“I’ll think about it. You may go.”

A curt tone was the norm for Jungkook, it was not being granted his blessing that disappointed Jimin. He knew for a fact he was an honourable man, so why wouldn't he entrust you to him?

“Quite well… I’ll show myself out.” he uttered, before making his leave failing to hide his low spirit by giving you one last shy smile you hadn’t the heart to return.

An awkward silence filled the air that even Bam daren’t break. Only once the front door was heard shutting did you walk closer to Jungkook.

“You won’t agree to this, will you?”

“Why shouldn’t I? I have to get rid of you at some point.”

“Rid of me? Like I’m a burden?” you asked, voice rising. How a servant could be so was unknown to you until, like wooden ship toys did when you’d submerge them in a bucket of water as a child, certain guesses surfaced in your thoughts. Trying to pickpocket him, the constant clashing, Biagio, that bath, the Pope… Yes, you may perhaps be described as a burden. But you didn’t want to leave. With a calmer tone, you pleaded, “I’ll behave from now on. I won’t cause any more trouble, I swear.”

Jungkook didn’t deign to look your way as he left, followed by Bam. “You have to marry at some point, Y/N. Otherwise people will gossip.”

Since when did he care about what people said of him? And why should you?

Winter having dropped its anchor, nightfall arrived early. Not early enough, you brooded as you cooked dinner, longing for the day to end once and for all. With any hope, all of this was a nightmare and upon waking up in the morning life would go back to normal. You didn’t even know why you wanted to stay with Jungkook, as the occasions in which you’d begged Jimin to employ you to leave this house were countless. The only certain thing was that you were upset.

Later, after washing all plates and cups, you began to put off all torches lighting the house, finding out in the hall that Jungkook hadn’t moved from the seat he’d dined in. You considered carrying on with your job and leaving him in the dark, but he wouldn’t find it as funny. Instead, you stood before him.

“Will that be all, master?”

The coldness in your expression made him sigh, “Y/N–”

“I shall retire, then.” You turned to leave but were made to stop in your tracks.

“It’s an advantageous proposal for you,” he lectured to whom he must believe an idiot. “Jimin works for me, he’s wealthy. A better match than you could ever aspire to. And he asks for no dowry because he doesn’t want money, he wants you…” His words were tainted with resentment. “He’ll take good care of you.”

Skirt of your dress swirling along, you faked a smile. “If you think so, master, then it must be so.”

He shook his head as he leaned back in defeat. “Suit yourself, but I won’t be the one to reject Jimin. You crush his heart.”

A laugh escaped you. “If you genuinely cared about him, you wouldn’t let him marry a woman in love with–” Oh no. It only hit you as you were saying it.

Jungkook had appeared annoyed, but now he was mad. “Who?” He stood up abruptly—chair’s feet scratching against the floor making you wince—and walked so close you were backed against the wall, face forced to turn to a side. In a low, deep voice, he repeated, less as a question and more as an order this time, “Who.”

There was no way in the nine circles of Hell you’d say it, when you didn’t want to believe it in the first place. For fuck’s sake, why? Jungkook only ever made you want to get away from him. That was the case right now, but then… why were your feet frozen?

Some unreasonable part of you seemed to have prevailed upon the others, casting away all resistance from your body and allowing yourself to indulge in Jungkook’s proximity. You met his eyes without fear, held his dark gaze. It didn’t take him long to work it out, yet he kept close, so close your unsteady breaths mingled, the effect akin to intoxication. He was visibly trying to hold back, telling himself it’d be a bad idea, but you prayed he wouldn’t care.

By God or the Devil, your prayers were heard.

Jungkook finally smashed his lips into yours, devouring them with a hunger you shared and felt growing as he gripped your waist to press you against him. A minute ago, you wouldn’t have imagined his tongue belonged inside your mouth, swirling around your own, and now you wanted it all over your body. As if reading your mind, Jungkook broke the ardent kiss to move down to your neck, which he licked painfully slowly before sucking hard, making you hiss with pleasure. He knew that would leave a mark, the bastard. You wondered if it was meant for Jimin, so he’d see you were Jungkook’s, and in such case you didn’t mind, let your eyelids close to enjoy it.

Steered by the lust possessing you, one hand grabbed his soft hair in a fistful, keeping his head in place where he was sweetly abusing your neck, while the other travelled southwards until it reached his crotch and held it over the trousers, feeling his cock stiffen. Jungkook groaned—a vibration to your skin—in retaliation lifting your skirt. You’d thought he'd take his time, tease you, but after ensuring you were wet enough by gliding his middle finger along your core, he slid it inside and began making beckoning motions.

“Master…” you moaned, legs shaking. Jungkook forsook your neck to pull back, watch how you struggled to keep it together as he added another finger, curling and uncurling them both, hitting all the right places, and unwilling to give him that satisfaction without consequences you groped his erection with the same vigour. Although he was in good control of his expression, his breath quivered against your lips, so he kissed them again, biting hard into your lower one.

He exhaled, “You’re driving me to sin…”

Indeed, the same fingers that held the brushes when he painted religious artwork were buried deep inside your cunt, bringing you the most sinful ecstasy. It made you chuckle. Jungkook took that as the mockery it was and, crossed, pulled his fingers out of you to drag you by the arm to the edge of the table, where he had you sit. Without delay he lifted your skirt again, only this time he also pulled down his trousers to reveal his cock, thick and throbbing, which he pumped as he watched you spread your legs eagerly, ready to take all of him.

With his free hand Jungkook cupped your cheek, thumb caressing your lower lip, coated with saliva and reddened still from when he’d bit it. He could sense your desire, that you craved him inside, had for a while. Desperately. And however much tempted he was to make you beg for it, his own arousal led his cock to your entrance and eased it inside already, another groan hitting the back of his bared teeth. You didn’t have time to gasp, his thrusts so quick they earned only moans, so wonderful did it feel.

Jungkook’s hand on your cheek then wrapped around your neck. “Do you know how often I’ve fantasised strangling you?”

You chuckled again as you slapped him across the face. Jungkook halted his movements in shock, glared at you. “And I slapping you?”

It took him a moment, but he scoffed and pushed you back so that you were lying down, climbing next atop you, confident that the wooden table was sturdy enough to hold both. So legs hooked around his torso and arms around his neck, you welcomed his thrusts, rough enough to make your eyes water. But it felt heavenly, how he ravished you... The mutual irritation and tension building up for over half a year translated into indescribable pleasure.

He kissed you again, flicking his tongue against yours as he pounded into you without mercy. Overwhelmed by the sensation, all you could do to express you were nearing your limit was sink your nails into Jungkook’s biceps at each side of you, moan inside his mouth. He took the hint and fucked you as fast as his body would allow, within mere seconds your walls clenching tight around him. The sight of you collapsing under him, overcome with bliss, made him reach his own highest shortly, spurting his warm seed inside you.

As his movements gradually ceased, so did your panting. Before a complete silence fell, you asked, “Am I still to marry Jimin?”

Jungkook grabbed your face and growled against your pouted lips, “You’re not going anywhere.”

[thehauntedetheral]

YANDERE ASSASIN

Requests are open !

• You and your husband has been married for 2 years now. And you were happy with each other.

• You are an accountant for a company while your husband is an engineer.

• You were like any other normal couple working, eating dinner together, going out on weekends, doing the usual day to day stuff.

• But one thing you didn't knew was that well your husband is an fake engineer who pretends to be one.

• In reality he is a most sought after assasin who is hired to kill top level people.

• The "I have to go out for two days for a project darling" is nothing but a excuse he gives you to go and kill his target in another state.

• Have guns hidden in various places in your shared home for " safety purpose ".

• One time you found one of his gun and asked him why is it here? "Hehe well darling the crime rate is increasing day by day I bought it for us for our safety I even have a legal licence for the gun." (Yes a licence for being an assasin)

• This is the same man who melts into your arms, follows you around the house like a puppy, looks at you like you hung the moon and stars and also the same man who doesn't miss his target even from miles and shoots them mercilessly.

• Hits all the target in a shooting game giving you a huge stuffed teddy bear while saying "Beginner's luck, baby."

• Yan vowed in the beginning phase of his job that he would never get married due to his job risk but you entered his life, made him break his vow as he asked you to marry him after falling so desperately in love with you. How couldn't he? You are just so damn perfect.

• You mentioned in a conversation to him casually how a co worker creeped you out by his staring. Boom from next day the co-worker now always avoids you like plague. (Because some unknown assasin threatened his life if he ever came near you)

• He has never been guilty in his life for killing people or having it as job but becomes guilty in a millisecond when he sees you sad thinking how bad of a husband I am? And to make all the clarifications clear you were not sad due to him you were just having your usual period mood swings. Because no way in hell this man would ever make you sad. Before making you cry he would shoot himself with his own gun.

• You both were watching an assasin movie on a weekend and you said how good looking and skilled that assasin the movie character is.

Meanwhile Yan's Mind : Control your self yan no need to be jealous you are better than that freaking stupid looking loser assasin. y/n just doesn't know. Control.

• Yan at a Halloween night comes home after shooting his target with a little blood on his clothes wearing his assasin black clothes and a gun in hand knowing full well that you are at your friend's house. Only to be surprised that you are at home throwing him a suprise Halloween party with others. You looking at him with a confused look as he stands on doorstep shocked.

Yan : Suprise baby!!! I came up dressed up as an assain that you liked in that movie. I hope you like it. (Saying with an akward smile while telling himself to not be so reckless next time)

Meanwhile the people at party who know the true Yan : 🧍‍♂️

• Is so damn protective of you due to his work line that whenever he leaves for days makes sure your friend stays with you and making sure you are safe through all the hidden cameras spread all over the house.

• He loves you a lot. He might be a deadly assasin to the whole world but he is just a normal engineer madly in love with you who just wants to devour you whole so no one else can have you.

• Reader to their friends : My husband won't ever hurt a fly.

Meanwhile Yan listening to this conversation: 🧍‍♂️

• When he is off duty he just spoils you with his cooking and spending all his time with you cuddling watching shows and just talking.

• Prays to god that you never found out about his true job afraid that you would get scared and leave him.

For more yandere reading :

[luveline]

Hiiiiii!!!!!!! I recently got back into criminal minds and devoured all ur hotch fics like a MANIAC (you write. So unbelievably well. Im also in love w ur tasm peter stuff, you are just such a good writer thru and thru) and that one request where Jack calls reader mom for the first time really stuck w me so I was wondering if maybe I could request smth of the opposite? Like not-so-single mom!reader and hotch have been dating for a while and her lil girl calls him dad for the first time :3 🖤🖤

thank you for requesting! 💌 —your daughter calls Hotch dad for the first time. fem, 2k

“Come in, come in!” Hotch says, the door held ajar by his arm, forcing you to squeeze in and save the heat. “Quickly, honey, please, get out of the rain.” 

Sarah bursts in through the door and away from the rain, her vinyl coat covered in raindrops, her boots wet with mud. “Aaron!” she says, pulling it into something softened and excited at once, though her ‘r’s are weak, closer to ‘w’s. “I missed you.” She jumps from one foot to the other. 

He makes sure you’re safely inside before he abandons you. It’s not very kind to you, but he can’t help himself. “Sarah,” he says, without your daughter’s sweetness but heavily fond, “I missed you more, honey. How many days has it been?” 

“Four!” she says, holding up four fingers as Hotch grabs her by the waist. 

He doesn’t mind her wet coat, working an arm around and beneath her to shuck off her muddy shoes. They topple to the ground to unveil damp socks. 

“Oh, no, your socks are wet. I did all the laundry while we were waiting, I have some warm ones for you in the dryer. Should we get you out of this coat?” 

“Where’s Jack?” you ask. 

“Eating. He was starving, couldn’t wait.” 

You kick your shoes off and gather them with Sarah’s to line up by the door. Hotch takes off Sarah’s coat with some one-armed manoeuvring, aware of her smiley gaze following his every move. 

“I,” you say, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek, cold lips to his rough skin, “am gonna go to the toilet really quickly. Hi, handsome.” 

He savours your kiss and watches you go. He owes you a better greeting, he missed you just as much as he missed your girl. For now, he wipes the cold from Sarah’s cheeks and stations her comfortably on his navel. 

He loves her like his own. He’s privileged to get the opportunity, and it’s hard not to feel that low level of awe whenever she’s around, because she loves him the same way. Sarah waits for him to smile before she wraps her arms around his neck, long enough to twine her fingers in the short hair she finds there. 

It’s funny to love someone you had no hand in bringing into the world, but no less real. He’d do anything for Sarah. I miss you doesn’t cover it, but it’s a start. “I missed you,” he murmurs, not well-versed in baby talk but always willing to try for his kids. “It’s so nice to see you. Jack missed you too, should we go see him? I can change your socks.” 

He ushers her back enough to see her. She has such loving eyes, not shy at all as she nods her head. “Can you make crackers?” 

He beams. “Oooh, yes. Crackers and cheese and apple slices, I know what you want, honey. It’s ready for you in the kitchen.” 

Things weren’t easy at first for either you nor Hotch. He works too much, and you both have priorities that can’t be shifted, but the connection between you was easy. Love, undoubtedly, pretty much the moment you met, even if it scared him. He never thought he’d get a second chance and he’s not sure you thought you’d find yours either, and yet loving you has been as helpless as loving your daughter. He doesn’t have a choice and he doesn’t want one. 

In this time, you’ve found routine. He’s introduced the idea of moving in together and you’re excited for it, though concrete plans haven’t been laid. There’s a lot of questions and no need to rush into answering them yet. He has no intentions of letting you go now —Hotch will do anything it takes to keep his small family. 

Today, right now, that’s crackers. 

“Sarah!” Jack says when he sees them, jumping off of his chair to climb on top of it. He holds his hands out and Hotch leans down with a loving laugh to let his son hug her. “You’re back!” 

“I’m back,” she agrees. 

“Do you want some of my sandwiches? Daddy made me two.” 

“Yes!” she says, wiggling to be put down and given what he’s promising. 

Hotch fights to take her to the sink and wash her little hands, to her horror and whining. He says, “Okay, okay, I’m sorry, sweetheart, but you gotta wash your hands before you eat.” 

He puts her in her own chair, and it is Sarah’s chair, outfitted with a big pillow so she can see the table and marked by a pink star sticker, putting a placemat in front of her. Jack quickly pushes one of his sandwiches towards her. “There you go.” 

“Thank you, Jackers,” she says. 

Hotch smiles. Despite their different interests and ages, they’re quick to get along. 

He shouldn’t pry while you’re in the bathroom, but he worries about you. “Honey?” he calls up the stairs. 

“I’m just changing!” 

“Yeah? Can you bring some socks for Sarah, please?” 

You shout back something incomprehensible. He returns to the kitchen, where Sarah looks over the chair with pleading eyes and asks, “Crackers?” a piece of lettuce stuck to her chin. 

“Ah,” he says showfully, turning to the fridge to grab the plate of crackers, sliced cheese, and apples he’d Saran wrapped an hour ago. He peels off the wrapping and places it in front of her. “Here, sweetheart. Do you want anything else? Maybe some chips?” 

She laughs and grabs a piece of apple without answering him. 

“What about you, sweetheart? Drink?” he asks Jack. 

“Yes please, daddy.” 

Hotch makes Jack a cup of orange juice and Sarah a sippy cup, hers diluted some with water. He places them down in front of the kids, crouching between their chairs, intending to stay and chat. “How’s that?” he asks, tilting his head to the side to listen for your light footsteps on the stairs.  

“Thanks, daddy,” Jack says. 

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah echoes, reaching for him. Hotch offers his hand, startled, not quick enough to hide it. She doesn’t pay any mind to his expression, pleased to have her hand held and her big plastic plate of crackers to munch on. 

“Why’d you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” you ask, passing him Sarah’s socks, and rounding the table to stand by Jack's other side. “Hi,” you add, ruffling Jack’s hair, “look at you, gorgeous, you got your hair cut.” 

Hotch rubs Sarah’s knuckles, trying to phrase it, not sure how to tell you with the kids still there. Will Sarah feel embarrassed if he brings it up so swiftly? Will she feel like she’s done something wrong? Will you? 

“What’s wrong?” you ask. 

He decides to present you with the situation. He’s not manipulative, but clever. “Mommy got your socks, too. Can we take these cold ones off, is that okay?” 

“Yes, please,” Sarah says.

You watch in confusion. Hotch gives you a quick look. Trust me for a second. 

He eases the socks off of her feet, laughs when she laughs at his tickling, even if he’s not quite sure how to feel. Happy, he gives her toes a squeeze and bunches a sock up to pull it over her heel and up to her ankle. “One,” he says, repeating the process with the same tenderness. “Two. There we go, all warm again, Sarah.” 

“Thanks, daddy.” 

You breathe in. 

Sarah puts some cheese on a cracker and offers it to Hotch, who eats it while you summon him away with silent parent talk. He kisses her forehead and wipes it clean as he goes. 

“Did she do that when I was upstairs?” you ask quietly. 

Hotch knows you. Loves you, but knows you intrinsically. He knows just by looking at you that you’re happy, but you’re worried about something, and it’s not hard to guess what it is: he might not want Sarah to call him daddy, and telling her not to might break her heart, and yours too. 

“She did.” 

“She’s never… expressed that interest to me.” 

“Sometimes they think about things more than we know.” Jack still surprises him as he did when he was a toddler.

“She just loves you,” you say. 

“I love her. She can call me whatever she wants to.” 

You hold his wrist, taking a step closer to him. “Are you sure?” 

“Of course I’m sure.” He murmurs now you’re close, ducking his head to yours, two halves of the same heart looking at one another’s hands. “I love her more than anything in the world. I want to make her crackers for the rest of my life.” Hotch puts his index finger to the soft skin under your chin. “Maybe by tomorrow she’ll forget she called me daddy and she’ll never say it again, but… I want her to. Is that okay?” he asks. 

You lean up to kiss him and you nod into his lips, which makes it hard but not impossible to kiss back. “She loves you so much,” you say quietly. You’d only wanted a quick peck. 

He might’ve said he loves her more than anything, but there’s a level on which he holds her and Jack where you sit too. He loves you. You made Sarah who she is all by yourself, and you’re so lovable standing in his reach. You’re perfect. 

Maybe he’s feeling sweet because Sarah called him daddy. 

“I think Jack confused her,” he says. 

“Maybe. You are, you know, her dad. You do everything a dad would.” 

Hotch slots his leg between yours and leans back to force you into his favourite kind of hug. You laugh slowly, hug the same, your arms sliding up over his shoulders to wrap behind his head, your hand cupping his hair. 

He closes his eyes and feels your waist. 

“You don’t have to worry,” he says. 

“I don’t worry about you and Sarah, I know you love her. I guess I just worry about us. Not that you don’t love me, Aaron.” 

“Big changes,” he guesses in a whisper. 

“Big changes.” 

He encourages you away to hold your face. He hopes that waiting with you in quiet for a while can explain it better than words. 

Your shoulders finally relax. 

[ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral]

Hello everyone! Thank you all for your support for the "Arthur misunderstands what a warlock is" au! Here's part two! You can find part one here!

As a quick recap, is this au Uther spread propaganda that warlocks were soul-eating demons in order to justify killing young warlocks. When Merlin finally reveals his magic to Arthur, Arthur's fairly chill with it, up until he realizes that Merlin's a warlock. Then, Arthur thinks that Merlin needs to eat souls in order to survive, and orders Merlin to kill a prisoner who was going to be executed the next day to make sure that Merlin was "fed".

And without further ado, on to the new stuff!

In the days following the... meal that Arthur had provided him, Merlin still wasn't looking any better, much to Arthur's dismay. Arthur agonized over the situation for many nights, unable to come up with any solution. They didn't have any criminals currently being held in the dungeons, and there weren't many bandits left in the woods for Merlin to feed on.

However, despite Merlin still looking tired and restless in the days following his "meal", he started to slowly look better after a week had passed, so Arthur, with a heavy heart, counted his plan as a success. Eating the criminal's soul really had reinvigorated Merlin, and wasn't that just terrible? As guilty and sick as Arthur felt about the whole situation, he could only imagine how Merlin had felt, carrying this burden for his entire life.

Merlin was such a gentle and kind soul, crying over unicorns and sick kittens! Arthur knew that this terrible burden must haunt Merlin like nothing else, being forced to devour the souls of others in order to keep himself alive.

Based on his observations over the past months, Arthur could see that Merlin never went actively hunting for prey, only waiting until an enemy of Camelot showed up for him to quietly dispatch. Arthur could see plainly that Merlin would rather starve than seek out a meal, and that most certainly was a problem.

Arthur wasn't sure what would happen if Merlin starved himself, if he would either lose control over himself and devour whatever poor souls he could find or would simply weaken and wither away, but Arthur wasn't keen on seeing such a thing happen. Merlin seemed to be able to go several weeks in between feedings, and there generally was one execution a month with how many bandits, assassins, and vengeful sorcerers came to Camelot, so if he...

Arthur swallowed dryly as guilt and self-disgust welled up in this throat. He... he didn't want to do this. Hell, he knew that Merlin surely wouldn't want to do this, even if it is for his sake!

But what other choice did he have? As awful as it was to admit it, Merlin's life meant far more to Arthur than any enemy's soul. If Merlin wasn't going to actively seek out souls, then Arthur had to hand them over to him, whether Merlin liked it or not.

Meanwhile, Merlin wasn't having a very good time.

He had thought that he was prepared for any negative reaction from Arthur to the news of his magic. And Arthur had been so accepting of Merlin's magic when they finally sat down together and talked about everything! Arthur had even become accustomed to seeing Merlin use magic for his chores! Arthur was comfortable with him, magic and all!

But Merlin had been so, so naive and hopeful. He had hoped that showing Arthur the softer, more mundane uses of magic would give him a new perspective on magic, teaching him that magic was not just the fearsome weapon that Arthur had been raised and conditioned to view it as.

And Merlin had thought that he was doing so well. Arthur didn't so much as bat an eye when Merlin used magic to scrub the floors or polish his armor! Arthur was comfortable with eating magically-heated food and sleeping in clothes covered in protection enchantments!

Arthur was clearly still comfortable with Merlin, and he still trusted Merlin! Merlin had shown him the softer side of magic, and yet...

Yet Arthur had taken him down into the dungeons and ordered him to execute a prisoner with his magic.

Arthur had looked him dead in the eyes and told him to kill the imprisoned noble in cold blood, and then was too disgusted with Merlin to even watch as his loyal manservant carried out his orders, harshly twisting the noble's neck with a simple spell.

Merlin couldn't fall asleep that night. Every time he closed his eyes, he either saw the noble's blank, dead stare or, even worse, Arthur's stern expression as he ordered Merlin to take a life with his magic.

It wasn't the first time Merlin had killed someone with his magic, not by far, but it was the first time he had done so outside of battle, on an unarmed enemy. It was the first time he had killed on Arthur's orders, and he wasn't sure who he was more disappointed in: Arthur or himself.

But the worst part of it all was that it proved Merlin wrong: he hadn't made as much progress with improving Arthur's opinion of magic as he had thought.

Arthur clearly still thought of magic and now, by extension, Merlin himself as a weapon, one that could be harnessed against his enemies. One that had been used against his enemies for years, without his knowledge.

Merlin felt helplessly stuck. He had done all he could to show Arthur how wonderful magic could be, yet the only use Arthur saw for it was as an executioner's blade!

Was that truly the only use Arthur saw for Merlin now that he knew the truth? The very thought of it hurt, it made Merlin want to curl up on his bed and sob and never have to face the world ever again.

Still, despite Arthur ordering Merlin to execute a man with his magic, Merlin persisted in his efforts to show Arthur the more wonderous side of magic. He doubled down on showing Arthur all of the useful littler enchantments that he knew and all of the beautiful things he could create with his magic.

And once again, for several weeks Merlin had thought that he was making progress! That was, until an assassin targeting Arthur was caught by the knights and sentenced to die the next day.

That night, when Arthur sent for Merlin, he knew exactly what Arthur wanted.

Once again, Merlin slowly followed Arthur down to the dungeons, he was fighting tears the entire way down. Was this supposed to be his punishment for lying to Arthur for ten years? Forcing him to commit atrocities with the magic he was trying so hard to show was not a thing to be feared?

Arthur slowly led him to the same cell as before, with the assassin tied to a chair in the middle, just as the noble had been. Merlin turned to Arthur with tears in his eyes, only to be met with grim determination from his king.

"Please," he nearly sobbed out, hoping his friend would take pity on him, "please, I don't want to do this. My mag- I'm not meant to do this. This is not what I was made for, what I was born to do."

Merlin thought that he saw tears gathering in Arthur's eyes as well for a split second, but they were gone in an instant, replaced with cold determination.

"I know that you don't want to do this, but despite what any of us may wish, this is what you are meant to do, Merlin. You must do this."

Merlin lowered and shook his head slowly, unable, or perhaps unwilling, to process the awful things that Arthur was saying. How could he possibly think that? He really did think so low of Merlin that he would claim all Merlin was good for was for, all his magic was good for, was senseless violence.

"No, Arthur, I won't- I can't do this!"

Merlin looked up again, ready to plead with Arthur, to try and make him see reason, only to see Arthur at the door of the cell, blocking the only exit.

"I'm sorry, Merlin." Arthur's voice was thick with sorrow and remorse, and Merlin didn't know why. Why was Arthur doing this? Why would he feel so remorseful over something that was completely unnecessary?! Merlin stared at his friend in shock and disbelief as Arthur cleared his throat and spoke again.

"I'm sorry, but you need to do this. Neither of us are leaving until it's done."

Merlin choked back more sobs and slowly turned to face the prisoner, wondering how Arthur could be so cruel.

Merlin made the deed itself quick, not wanting to make this any longer than it needed to be for everyone involved. A simple flash of gold in his eyes, and the assassin was dead.

Merlin was unable to sleep that night, too haunted by the anger in Arthur's eyes to find any rest.

What was perhaps even more disturbing for Merlin was Arthur's insistence on still acting normal, like nothing was wrong at all, in the days following the execution. Arthur's willful avoidance of the topic was confusing and frustrating in equal amounts.

Still, Merlin continued serving Arthur. He had to hold out hope that things would get better, that Arthur would learn that magic was more than just violence. What other choice did he have? He had gotten this far with his destiny, he couldn't stop now, not when they were so close to the golden age!

The weeks went on, and Merlin thought he saw more improvement in Arthur's opinion of magic, but doubt was always present. Merlin held his breath now whenever Arthur sentenced criminals, praying that none of them would be sentenced to execution, as he knew what would happen next.

However, as more weeks went by and no executions were scheduled, Merlin slowly let himself relax. Perhaps Arthur had seen reason after all!

Merlin carried this hope with him into the spring, which brought with it more frequent hunting trips and patrols. And when he and Arthur went on a hunting trip or a patrol, trouble was always found.

In their current situation, "trouble" took the form of an angry Sidhe, which still held a grudge against Merlin for murdering two of their own and ruining their plans to take over Camelot.

The good news was that Merlin was able to beat the Sidhe, banishing it back to Avalon. The bad news was that the Sidhe had managed to land a rather powerful spell on Merlin, which left him with several broken bones and various injuries.

Merlin groaned where he laid prone on the ground, glad to see that everyone else was unharmed, but unable to ignore the pain burning throughout his body. Anyone else would have probably died from his injuries, but even now he could feel his magic mending his bones and flesh. But despite his magic already trying to heal him, everything hurt like hell.

As Merlin tried to sit up, Arthur rushed over to his side, supporting him as his back protested his every movement. Merlin smiled at Arthur gratefully, trying to alleviate his friend's worry, but he soon became concerned that Arthur took a blow to the head while fighting, as Arthur started rambling nonsense at him.

"Merlin! You haven't eaten in week! It's no wonder you got so hurt, you've been starving yourself you idiot! You... you'll recover, right? You have enough energy and magic to heal yourself?"

Merlin groaned in pain as he tried to make sense of what Arthur was saying. What did it mater how long it had been since he ate?

"I- I can recover, yes. My magic is doing all it can for me right now, but it'll be slow. I'll probably be fine, I've come back from worse."

Merlin tried to give Arthur his most reassuring grin, but Arthur only paled further.

"But you were... you say that your magic is doing all that it can, but it can't fully heal you right now, can it? You need..."

Merlin watched, confused, as Arthur paused to blink back tears. What on earth was going on?

"You need to eat, Merlin. And there's no- there's no bandits, no assassins, no criminals anywhere around for us to use but you need one!"

Merlin just stared at Arthur, still unable to grasp what was going on. He glanced behind Arthur at the knights, and while Gwaine, Elyan, and Percival looked just as lost as he felt, all of the other knights looked upon Merlin and Arthur with looks of shocked horror.

"Arthur, what are you-"

"No, this needs to be done. Merlin, Camelot needs you. I know that we face much adversity despite accepting magic now, and Camelot needs its greatest protector. There will only ever be one Emrys. But a king? A king is replaceable. Should I fall, Gwen will take my place, and I have np doubts that she will be a fair, just, and wise sovereign for Camelot.

It is fitting, as I have condemned others to this fate for the sake of my kingdom, that I should bare the same end."

"What are you even talking about?! Did you hit your head while I wasn't looking?"

Arthur shook his head, tears now flowing freely down his cheeks. Yup, Merlin decided, Arthur definitely had a concussion. He'd have to get Gaius to check him over once they returned to Camelot.

"No, Merlin, please stop denying the situation. You need a soul to eat if you're going to recover, and I am offering you my own!"

Merlin blinked, wondering if perhaps he was the one that had a concussion instead of Arthur. Because there was no way that he had heard that correctly.

Following Arthur's tearful outburst, Leon rushed forwards, grabbing ahold of a weeping Arthur's shoulders. Good, Merlin thought, Leon was a very sensible man, he would surely make Arthur see reason!

"No, sire! You can't! The kingdom needs you just as much as it needs Merlin! I will offer myself in your place! Merlin, you must take my soul instead!"

... Or not.

Had everyone hit their heads? Perhaps the Sidhe had cast some madness-inducing spell before he had banished it? And why were they going on about souls?

"Hold on now, what are talking about? Why would I be taking anyone's soul?"

Leon and Arthur stared blankly at him, as if he was the one spewing nonsense, until Leon cleared his throat and responded in a hesitant voice, "But... but isn't that how warlocks like you fuel their powers?"

There was a brief pause as the air held still before Merlin finally forced words past his dumbfounded lips.

"YOU IDIOTS THOUGHT I DID WHAT?!"

And that's a wrap on this au for now! Thank you all for your support and your patience! This turned out to be much longer than I anticipated!

A big thank you to everyone who requested this continuation! I'll try to tag you all here, my apologizes if I forget anyone, there were quite a few of you! @veryroadpartystatesman-blog, @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu, @that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction, @keitorin3, @chaosofbelievers, @stateofdreaming14, @melodymeddler, @arrowlovesdragons, @notquitehumanwrites, @caraspud, @ikol-art, @linotheghost, @murder-drones-4ever, @error-username-not-available, @theroundbartable, @magicalmischel, @skatercashew, @xxv2axx, @tobythetrashytrash, @auldsusie, @everything-but-the-not-natural, @ramadiiiisme, @idk-anymore-mydudes, @tamaha, @kissme-withyour-cherrylipstick, @merthurogies

Once again, thank you all for exploring this au with me! I'll be back soon with a new au idea! Until next time!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

[bivht]

Astrology Observations

😎Virgo moons are polite and respectful until you cross their boundaries. But people accuse them of being rude even when THEY were the ones put in a super uncomfortable situation

😎Aquarius and sagittarius placements are free-spirited. You tell them to do something and suddenly it’s an obligation rather than a choice and they don’t want to do it anymore lmao

😎Cancer risings and their low-key unhealthy relationship with food :0

😎Taurus is branded as the foodie of the zodiac but I think Sagittarius is the ultimate foodie

😎I like to see the moon sign as who a person is at their core. And the moon sign in your mercury persona chart is very insightful to how you express yourself.

for example:

Aries moon- expresses themselves passionately, perseverant, doesn’t give up easily, likes to keep things tidy, hard working, could be naggy, aggressive

Taurus moon- sweet and charming way of talking, logical, doesn’t like believe anything without concrete evidence, self care, words of affirmation, has definitive personal boundaries, slow down when you’re eating babes, when they’re toxic they’re some of the worst kinds of toxic

Gemini moon- domicile (home sign), real sweet talkers, witty, critical thinking skills on point, charmers, just the right amount of flirty, know how to talk themselves out of a situation, scatterbrained, PERFORMERS

Cancer moon- sweet, will remember your birthday, wants to include everyone, confused easily, overstimulated easily

Leo moon- humorous, dramatic af, will spread love to whoever gives them attention, gives their love to everyone, critical thinking not their forte

Virgo moon- domicile, polite, respectful, knows how to remain professional in awkward situations, hates the feeling of being stuffed full?? 7/10 full is sufficient for them, due to this they’re usually slim, “perfect” self expression, neat and tidy, expresses gratitude for every tiny thing, eats slowly, critical thinking on point, extremely private (esp. about relationships)

Libra moon- diplomatic, likes to agree, charming, soft and sweet but also vengeful, avoids confrontation, talks shit behind backs instead of addressing issue directly with person

Scorpio moon- opinionated, probably a coffee addict, death stares at people they dislike, private but not the same as virgo, virgos tell you things but won’t go into detail, scorpios just won’t tell you. so fiercely loyal, their charm is fatal

Sagittarius moon (detriment)- happy, seems like they’re always having fun, don’t take themselves too seriously, charmers, funny facial expressions, stuff themselves full. they DEVOUR food, tendency to overindulge so can be chubby cheeked, struggle to articulate themselves in a professional manner, hates being nagged, lacks critical thinking, they get bored easily so consistency is an ongoing struggle, can be flirty

Capricorn moon- logical, down to earth, realistic, charming, articulate, their smart little jokes, a bit reluctant to try new things but they will, loves feeling in control (more than anyone else), really patient, consistency is key, can be rude and dry, may make shy, insecure people shifty

Aquarius moon- they talk in a very self-important way, very recognisable tone of voice, an intellectual, research whore, likes to share their found knowledge with people, lecture people, full of themselves

Pisces moon (detriment)- ehhem OVERSHARER to the T, silly humour, a bit unreasonable as they don’t follow logic, poor critical thinking skills, either super empathetic or lacks any empathy, can be flirty

😎More of an assumption but Leo+Virgo (and/or taurus)= hating slimy and mushy textures like eggplant, okra, durian

😎Chiron in the 6h can be obsessed with hygiene and cleanliness. My brother has this and he will not eat from the same spoon or drink from the same straw as anyone else, not even his own mother. He’s criticized and scolded by his mother because of this

😎A mother with 10h mercury is scrutinizing their childrens’ speaking abilities and how they interact with people in public

😎Aries mars has a fit looking body

😎People with sun 1h in the mars persona chart can seem really athletic

😎Sometimes individuals with neptune hard aspects (esp. square) are accused of having a mental illness (bullied)

😎Mars square neptune is a really anxious placement. Their panic is so clear on their face. They get really nervous about things more than others. Their intentions are confusing and people find it hard to figure out what your intentions for your actions are

[anger-sama]

UNKNOWN HORROR Part 2 Made By Anger-Is-Flawed

 Dream went back to get his stuff ready and the other two came in and asked what he’s up to. Dream says nothing and says he’ll be back soon. As soon as Dream made it to the destination, Nightmare appeared and saw an easy opportunity to take out his brother for good. Nightmare quickly attacked Dream without warning, but Dream dodged swiftly. They started their battle and it lasted for a while. Nightmare suddenly took a couple hits from Dream’s arrows. Nightmare was now on the floor weakened and struggling to move from the light arrows. Dream prepared his next shot to strike Nightmare down. Before that could happen, Horror took his chance and striked Dream on the back of his head with the blunt side of his axe. Now it was just them two. Horror slowly made his way towards Nightmare to finish him off. Nightmare threw his tentacles at Horror. His tentacles were slower than usual, so Horror could dodge them easier. Horror jumped onto Nightmare and shoved his hands into Nightmare's body. He finally found his soul and pulled it out of his body. Horror took one last look at Nightmare before shoving Nightmares soul into his mouth. Nightmare's body slowly disappeared and Horror teleported, leaving Dream’s body there. Ink and Blue finally make it and quickly go to his aid. Horror makes it to his room and falls to his floor. His body starts stretching and his hand begins to change shape. Drool-like corruption begins to flow out his mouth and nightmares eye forms on his vacant eye socket. Dust and Killer come inside Horrors room and ask where Nightmare is. Horror slowly turns to them and they both instantly go on the offense and attack Horror. After a little bit of fighting, the other two fall on the floor and Horror looks over them. Horror tells them he doesn’t want to kill them yet and he has a plan for them. He calls in Insanity and surprisingly, he comes inside immediately. Killer looks shocked and Dust looks confused. Horror tells them that Insanity will be working with them from now on. Horror immediately sends them on a mission to take out a sans in a random AU. While they do that, Horror makes his way to low level AUs to feed on. Horror would kill and devour one monster and let their friends and family suffer and feed off the negativity. Horror continues to do this until everyone in the AU is gone. He would do this to many other AUs to satisfy his hunger while the other three went to complete the mission. Going through different AUs, he would find different variants of Nightmares and defeat each one. When he devours one, an eye would sprout from his tentacles. While he was doing that, the trio was busy trying to complete the mission they were given. Suddenly, they ran into the Star Sanses and Dream was leading them. Dream commands them to tell him what happened to Nightmare. Insanity immediately goes and attacks the trio by himself. He just joined the team so he’s inexperienced in synergy. All three of them attacked him at the same time and sent him flying. Now it was just two on three. Killer and Dust fought them off for as long as they could. Both sides were injured but Killer and Dust fell in defeat. Dream asked them one more time where his brother was. Unknown Horror appeared behind them and instantly the trio turned around quickly. Unknown Horror told them that Nightmare has been somewhat replaced. Ink had a bad feeling about this and told the other two to follow him as he went inside a portal he made. Blue quickly grabbed Dream and slowly went towards the portal. Before they stepped through, Dream looked back at Unknown Horror and saw him mouth the words “Thank you”. He immediately gets a wave of fear, then the portal closes. 

Art Made By @wyllaztopia My Good Buddy Design/Ideas Help By @heartstitched My Good BUCKO

Part 1

[routeless-writer]

Adored your lilia smut

can I request body worship and breeding link with lilia??

ANON YOU ARE SPEAKING MY LANGUAGE RN. Thank you hun! I’m so glad you and so many people liked it, I honestly didn’t expect it to blow up like it did! Happy to write for my favorite old man.

MC pronouns: GN/NB (no pronouns used, implied they/them)

CW: NSFW, breeding kink/breeding talk, pregnancy talk, excessive praise/body worship, Lilia being a brat dom, Lilia also being filthy, mod mezzo ALSO being filthy, oral sex mentions (reader receiving), marking, blood/biting/vampirism mention (it’s Lilia, so), light light LIGHT possessiveness, the slightest degradation (I use slut like once), i say he’s a tits man and then clarify that the tits are gender neutral and just mean your chest.

Listening to: Casket – Ren Zotto

Now Lilia is a dom that’s heavy on praise

He will absolutely degrade you if you ask for it, but his favorite thing is watching you squirm from even the smallest of compliments. He wants his baby bat to know how much he loves them!! Especially when you have just the cutest reactions to it.

Think Gomez Addams if Gomez was a switch leaning dom (because Mr. Addams is like, canonically a sub lol)

He follows you around a lot, even more so when he’s horny or finds himself having…baby fever, shall we say?

He can’t help it! He’s been wanting to raise another kid and all, and the thought of getting to spend a domestic life with you…the thought of you carrying his child…even if you physically can’t, he still finds himself hot and bothered at the idea. Plus, adoption is always something you two could discuss if you were serious about the actual breeding portion of the breeding kink, but wouldn’t be able to have kids/didn’t want to go through pregnancy.

Unless you’re shorter than him, he’ll likely be the perfect height for him to rest on your chest, and even if you are shorter than him, I can see him being quite attached to your upper body, regardless of whether there is boobage there or not and regardless of level of boobage.

What can I say, he’s a tits man (read tits as gender neutral)

So it’s the first thing he goes for with praise

He’ll casually slide a hand up your shirt at any given time to feel you up, resting his head on your shoulder and humming little compliments in your ear about how soft your skin is, how warm you are, how he just wants to bite down on your cute little nipples and–oh, look at that! They’re already hard hehe

“Khehehe, are you that sensitive, darling? Don’t worry, if it works you up that much, I’ll make sure to take care of you. I love the way your body reacts to just the slightest touch…so gorgeous.”

Lils is an oral fiend, too, and it’s one of his favorite ways to worship you. He’d gladly get on his knees for his precious baby bat at the drop of a hat. Holding your hips in place as he nestles between your thighs and tastes your arousal, his eyes rolling back dramatically so he can show you just how sweet you are to him. Don’t move too much, darling. It’s his job to pleasure you!

“So good. So good for me…you taste perfect…such a sweet pet, all the blood rushing here…be careful, I might just devour you.~”

Obviously it’s hard for him to be vocal with his tongue on your clit/your cock down his mouth, so the heavy praise comes when he finally gets to fuck you.

Lilia typically either opts for doggy or mating press. He loves seeing you ass up, face buried into the pillow as he rams into you, but when his breeding kink flares up, that’s when he prefers the second option.

He likes to see your face when he fucks into you and talks about how cute your red cheeks are, how he wants to stuff you full and fill you up. And he talks. He doesn’t know how to shut his mouth unless he’s using it to get you off.

He’s also generally just very playful and giggly during sex. A brat dom, if you will, so expect plenty of teasing on his end about how needy you look with your legs hiked up like that.

“Pretty little thing, all folded over under me. Look at me, let me see your expression. Ah….mmnh, take my fingers in your mouth, just like you take my cock. Tight little bloodpet…you’re so perfect, little one. I want to see it, I want to see you all full and fucked out. That’s nice isn’t it? You’d love to be knocked up, you’d love to be pumped full of my cum. Awe, look at you. Look at you take it. Your hole is so tight around me, so pretty as you bounce on it. That’s it…that’s it, you’re doing so well. So gorgeous…”

He’ll drag your hips closer as he rocks against you, touching you to the pace of his thrusts, and pushing you down further into the bed with the kind of strength you wouldn’t expect someone so small to have.

He kisses and nips at anything he can get his lips on–your neck, your chest, your stomach and thighs. He’s a groper, too, so he’ll watch as his fingers sink into your skin, leaving bruises on your hips and legs.

“You’re going to be so full and sensitive, I’ll watch you get heavy with my child…you’re mine, you’re perfect and you’re mine.”

Usually Lilia’s far more focused on your pleasure than his, but something about the way you’re begging him to empty inside you is sending shockwaves down his spine. It feels like during sessions like this, he loses his well-composed nature altogether. Right before you’re about to cum, tightening up around his aching cock, he’ll lean in and sink his fangs into your neck, pressing a hand to your abdomen to feel how his dick drags along your walls.

That’s enough to do it for you, the aphrodisiac bite making you cum hard around him, and he doesn’t dare pull out as he cums with you, growling into your neck.

Lils is a fae, and faefolk cum a LOT. It’s hot and sticky as he spills inside of you, holding your hips as close to him as he can, fucking into you as you both finish and you shake. It’s enough to drip out without pulling out, much to Lilia’s disappointment. Guess he’ll just have to cum inside you a few more times to make up for it!

Lilia’s the type to make you cockwarm him after breeding sessions. He can’t have his efforts go to waste–you will be knocked up by the end of the night.

“Maybe I should make you keep a toy in overnight. I have to make sure it takes, sweet thing.”

You can expect a quick session right before class the morning after, too. He’s serious! He really wants to raise kids with you, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

You two make quite the mess of the bed, cum and blood stains are scattered across the sheets. Lilia will handle the clean up, don’t you worry! He has to make certain that his spent little human rests after such a rough session.

Now that you’ve awakened this kink in him, Lilia’s ready for regular breeding talk during sex. Hope you like being fucked into the mattress and used for hours, cause he’s hellbent on making you his breedslut now.

divider credit 𓆩♡𓆪 navigation 𓆩♡𓆪 masterlist

[misserabella]

two geniuses (one sacrifice)

spencer reid x reader (enemies to lovers!)

masterlist this is chapter 4! go check out the rest!<3

synopsis;; things have gone sour in between spencer and you after that kiss. but you need to make a decision and accept that everyone… is a sinner. and sinners make pretty sacrifices.

cw;; tobias hankel episodes (E15,16 S2)!!!, ANGST!!!!!, usual reid vs reader behavior, kidnapping (reader), used of y/n (i know i’m sorry but i cannot use nicknames yet), shots being fired, ‘this is calm and it’s doctor’, death of characters, usual criminal minds stuff, weapons, branding (ouch), religion themes, fighting, beating, blood, drowning, pretty much torture, crying, drug use (reader gets drugged), spencer losing it, comfort at the end, mental health disorders (did), a lot more but i can’t remember!!!…

«and i looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was death. and hell followed with him…»

after your kiss with spencer, things had taken the wrong turn. you couldn’t stop thinking about it. about how soft his lips had been, the wine on his tongue, his rough hands cradling your body, taking your cheeks as he devoured your mouth like a man starved. couldn’t stop thinking about his heavy breathing, about his needy eyes, his words when you’d told him to slow down… ‘i can’t’. every time you remember the need in his voice, the feeling of his hard cock against your thigh it sent shivers down your spine. but now… now he was acting like a dick.

“you had him in front of you and you still missed?!” he frowned, infuriated, his jaw tightened, teeth grinding.

“he wasn’t in front of me, he was in front of you! if you hadn’t been on the way i could’ve gotten him!!”

the arguments had gotten worse. the hatred had gone up a notch. he was insufferable.

“so you thought the best thing to do was step in front of me and take a bullet?!” you groaned.

“you’re welcome!” you rolled your eyes at him. the paramedics were taking off your perforated fbi vest to look at the damage. by the way it hurt to breathe you were sure one of your ribs had cracked.

“‘you’re welcome’? ‘you’re welcome’?!” he scoffed in disbelief. “do you know that actually the vests aren’t bullet proof? what if the bullet had gone through it? what if it perforated one of your lungs?!”

“well next time don’t make me step in front of a bullet, reid!” you groaned. your head was starting to hurt.

“oh this is my fault now…?!”

“yes! yes it is your fucking fault! you were distracted!” he sighs and you groaned in pain when they took out your vest. under your shirt there was a nasty bruise growing darker by the minute.

“distracted? i wasn’t distracted.” he defended himself, ‘cause if he was distracted then right now he was out of his mind as you unbuttoned your shirt, your simple white bra displayed for his hazel eyes. he gritted his teeth, looking away at the flashing of your memories together in the hotel, the beach… that kiss.

“but you were! you didn’t even notice he was pointing at you until it was too late! in your position he would’ve got you, reid. you were down on your knees and he was pointing at your head!” he looked exasperated once his eyes found yours again.

“so stepping in front of me and getting shot was best?!”

“yes! if it means you get to live then yes!”

“looks like we’ve got a fractured rib.” the paramedic said. “but nothing too serious. you’ll be alright.”

“she’ll be alright? she needs a full body scan, what if it has punctured her lungs? she could be bleeding internally!” he babbled, and the paramedic tried to slow him down.

“there’s no sing of it. her breathing sounds fine, her heart beat is stable, calm down, agent.”

“this is calm. and it’s doctor.” he sternly said back and you sighed.

“reid. y/l/n. enough.” hotch stopped the two of you. he took a glance at spencer and his stern look told him everything he needed to know. spencer stepped away, fuming, his fists clenched. you sighed. “are you alright?” your boss inquired you.

“i’m fine. it’s just discomfort.” he nodded.

“alright. but if you feel faint or just off, tell me.” you nodded and he stepped away to finish talking with the sheriff, leaving you with emily and jj —who had been watching your interaction with the other genius from afar— as the paramedics put on some numbing ointment and wrapped your torso.

“what was that?” emily’s eyebrows were raised, her arms crossed over her chest.

“what was what?” you inquired.

“that. all of this. what’s going on between you and spencer later?” jj clarified, waving his hands around in the air, as if she could physically feel the tension and heaviness in the air even after he was gone.

“he’s just being a dick. nothing new.” you shrugged. “thank you.” you said to the paramedic who welcomed you with a smile and wished you a quick recovery as you buttoned back up your shirt.

“yeah but lately you two have been fighting non-stop.”

“we always have.”you frowned.

“not like this. it’s been worse since you two…” jj trailed off and your eyebrows raised.

“since our last case. since you two kissed.” emily finished up for her and all color left your face.

“what? nonsense.” you spat, but your micro expressions were enough to betray you. goddamn profilers.

“y/n…” emily tried and reason with you, but before she could jj’s phone was pinging.

“we have a new case.”

saved by the bell.

-

tension is tricking down your skin under spencer’s gaze as the team surrounds the table. jj has the remote in hand, ready to give out the information about this last butchery.

“georgia. the kyles, dennis and lacy, were murdered an hour ago in their suburban atlanta home.”

“an hour ago?” hotch frowned.

“the police were on scene unusually fast.” the blonde clarified the doubts that arose inside the room.

“why?” morgan inquired.

“one of the unsubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.

“you’re kidding.” derek scoffed and jj shook her head.

“from inside the house.” eyebrows rose. “according to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there because the other, who they both identified as raphael was about to kill the ‘sinners’ that live there.”

“sinners?” hotch replied just to make sure and jj nodded.

“the 911 center is going to send garcia a copy of the tape.”

“how fast was the police response time?” spencer inquired and your response eyes smoothed over his curls, his pointy small nose, high cheekbones and perfect jaw as jj answered.

“four minutes, 26 seconds. during which time raphael managed to do this.” images of the crime scene filled the screen and emily whistled with impression. “mr. kyle is a dot-com millionaire. his company is one of the largest employers in the community. there’s gonna be media coverage. also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

“revelation, chapter 6, verse 8.” you muttered. “they’re killing ‘sinners’. this is a mission.”

“and mission-based killers will not stop killing.” spencer nodded, taking in your words.

“this is a bad one, isn’t it?” emily asked and morgan sighed.

“unsubs with a cause are never good.”

“even less if they’re religious.” you muttered. “violence is perpetrated for a wide variety of ideological reasons, and religion is generally only one of many contributing social and political factors that may foment it.”

penelope perked up with a ping of her computer. “pets? i just got the 911 call from the georgia state police.” she informed as she played it for the whole team.

the voice through the other side was soft, silent, wobbly as he explained that the people at that house had too much stuff, possessions, from raphael’s perspective, who was cutting in with a shape ‘that’s enough’ that rendered the submissive male silent.

“well, unsub one definitely sounds frightened, maybe he’s doing this against his will.” emily pointed out but gideon shook his head.

“i doubt it. he whispered.”

“he could have called out to save them instead of calling 911.” hotch agreed.

“not if he had a gun to his head.” morgan chirped but you rectified him.

“if he had a gun to his head, why would he have dialed 911?”

“the second unsub said raphael was going to kill someone. is there a third?” jj inquired and spencer answered.

“referring to oneself in the third person is not uncommon for an unsub.” you nodded, stepping into his rambling.

“an example of it is ted bundy. he gave detailed accounts of his murders but he never admitted to doing it. he would just say ‘the killer’.” he looked at you with something hidden behind his eyes. fury, proudness? who knew?

“i’ll run the name through our system.” garcia said.

“we have a killing team on a mission in rural georgia. we know what that means.” hotch talked through the silence that came with garcia’s keyboard clacking.

“they’re not going to stop until the mission’s complete.” morgan said as he inspected the photos of the crime scene.

“but is there an ending to the mission? there will always be more ‘sinners’ to be taken care of.” you sighed and spencer chuckled.

“of course not. these unsubs are guided by a misunderstood point of view of a religion with shaky foundations. their reasoning is beyond cure. they’ll kill anyone who doesn’t fit the epitome of pure.” your eyes clashed against his at the condescending of his tone. you wanted to punch his jaw shut.

“then we need to hit the ground running. we need an inside picture of the victims. victimology can be critically important in a mission- based spree.” you talked to the group and spencer clapped his hands.

“you came up with that alone? brilliant deduction.” your eyebrows furrows as his eyes rolled in annoyance.

“what’s your fucking problem?” you gritted through your teeth, tension building in your body and in the air surrounding the two of you as you took a deep inhale of air that had your cracked rib throbbing.

“enough.” hotch cut short your quarrel for the second time around that day. “once we get there, prentiss, go where the bodies are. examine the wounds. they managed to kill two victims in four and a half minutes. we need to know how.” emily answers with a ‘you got it’. “i’m going to the atlanta field office and go over case files. it’d be unusual for a first kill to be this efficient.”

“reid, y/l/n and morgan come with me to the crime scene.” gideon ordered and you could almost feel the migraine that sharing space with the genius would bring you.

“wheels up in 20. we’ll land in less than an hour. so, everybody, try to get some rest.” hotch notified and all of you nodded, getting up from your seats and getting ready for this case.

-

“i’m tired of people using religion to justify the terrible things they do…” you sighed as you took a look at the blood stained carpet of the crime scene.

“you’re saying these killers are on a mission?” one of the officers of georgia asked.

“these unsubs believe they’re either on a mission from god or that the bible is somehow guiding them.” reid stepped up.

“sounded to me like only one of them was into the mission.”

“it’s usually more complicated than even that. in the case of dick hickcock and perry smith, perry was the subservient personality, basically against even entering the clutter home, yet he was the one who almost single-handedly slaughtered the entire family.” he explained in a messy blurb of words.

“huh.” was all that the agent said in response.

“how many times was mr. kyle stabbed?” gideon asked.

“stabbed isn’t exactly the word. they were slashed through the major arteries. they were made pretty much at the same time.”

“like an animal at slaughter…” you muttered.

“exactly like an animal at slaughter. you cut the throat first then sometimes open other major arteries to assist on draining the carcass.” reid added and you looked at him.

“so maybe a hunter?”

“or a farmer.”

gideon and morgan looked at the two of you. and in their eyes there was something you already knew. you could not like spencer, but the truth was that you two made the perfect team. and there was nothing that could change that fact.

“this unsub was good. they didn’t stand a chance.” gideon said and morgan stepped up to the other side of the room.

“okay, i know my partner called 911. the police are on the way, so i don’t have a lot of time. now, assuming unsub one didn’t actively participate, i gotta believe i entered the bedroom from here.” he pointed at the bedroom door to his left. “i see mr. kyle on the other side of the bed. so i approach him.”

“and you cut him first.” you nodded.

“how do you know that?” the agent asked you and you hummed.

“a blitz attacker neutralizes the greatest threat first. in this case, it would be the man.”

“plus, the 911 call, a woman screamed.” gideon added.

“you can’t scream with your throat cut.” spencer pointed out and you rolled your eyes.

“genius.” you whispered, winning a pissed off look from him and his hazel eyes.

“shut it.” he whispered back.

“make me.” your tongue betrays you with your witty come back before you can think it through and his face changes to a one of shock for a second before he relaxes once again into his hatred. but you’ve seen it. that look in his eyes. and you’re sure his mind has drifted back to your kiss. when you had shut him up for good. you almost smirk. ‘cause that little flash has made him gone quiet.

“so mrs. kyle sees her husband murdered, she runs back into the bathroom.” morgan continues with his reading of the room, completely oblivious of your bickering and tension as he enters the bedroom, taking the door with his gloved hands. “she tried to close the door behind her. i force my way in… and i kill mrs. kyle back here in the bathroom.”

“we checked that smudge for prints.” the agent points to the blood on the door beside morgan. “nothing. looks like he wore some gloves. not with any pattern. like latex maybe.” you shook your head.

“that doesn’t make any sense at all.”

“it doesn’t?”

“unsubs suffering from a psychopathy, a delusion like a message from god, are what we would classify as being disorganized. they don’t generally clean up after themselves.” reid explains for you. always meddling into your business, of course.

“maybe unsub one, the frightened one, made sure they did.” you argue with him and his eyes are piecing as he looks at you, but the ringing of morgan’s phone snatched both your attentions away.

“yeah, talk to me, baby girl. yeah.” he looked around the room after garcia inquired him something. “if a settee is a little couch. what? what’s wrong? a viral what?” you frown in curiosity and from derek’s own frowning. “garcia, is there some point to all of this?” he steps forward towards us. “garcia. there’s a video of this murder on the internet?” the three of you are perplexed under his gaze, and then he’s looking from side to side as he ends the call before stepping towards a computer in front of him.

“they’re watching us.”

-

«the armies of satan shall not prevail.»

tobias hankel. it was the first time you heard his name. a witness to an unknown prowler that hotch had asked spencer and you to ask a few questions to help recognized the aforementioned.

tobias. hebrew. meaning ‘god is good’. under his facade. his sweet, nervous eyes you might think lives a good man that resembles the meaning of his name.

and yet, the devil was looming over his shoulder.

“hi. mr. hankel?” i inquired after my knocks and the screeching of his opening door.

“uhmm. yeah?” he looked innocent. pure even. how could you haven known? they say you can sense it. smell the rotten. but this rotten second mind taking over hankel was so well hidden that you couldn’t even sniff it.

“mr. hankel. fbi. i’m agent y/l/n. this is doctor reid.” you two showed him your badges and the man frowned.

“fbi?”

“may we come in?” spencer inquired, and tobias looked over his shoulder into the safety of his home.

“i’m sorry. i don’t let anyone in the house.”

“actually, i really have to, you know, go.” spencer awkwardly said and you gritted your teeth. seriously?

“you do?”

“yeah. for like thirty minutes.”

“why didn’t you say something in the car?”

he completely ignored you and looked at tobias once again.

“do you mind?”

“i’m sorry. my father doesn’t like it.”

“father? you’re like, 30.”you almost elbowed him on the stomach.

“at what age should one start disrespecting the wishes of their parents?” he inquired seriously to the genius behind you and you stepped into the middle of the conversation to fade away the discomfort brewing in between them.

“you witnessed something a few months ago that might be very helpful for us.” you kindly said.

“i did?”

you nodded. “you saw someone go over a wall into a yard. you called the police?” he frowned.

“me?” you copied his gesture.

“you didn’t?”

“sorry.” he shrugged and spencer hummed in thought.

“is there another tobias hankel here?” you inquired.

he shook his head. “just me and my father, charles.”

“there’s a report on file that lists you as calling 911. you were walking a dog…” he cut you off.

“no, that’s wrong. i don’t have a dog.”

“oh.” you muttered. “all right. well, sorry to brother you, sir.”

“sorry. have a good night.” tobias said before closing the door and leaving the two of you alone.

“that’s weird…” you said as you started to walk down the front steps of the porch. “why bother calling the police in the first place if later you’re just going to pretend you didn’t?” spencer seemed to connect something inside his mind then, because he looked at you with widened eyes.

“to gauge the response time.”

“what?”

“if you were going to kill somebody but you wanted to call the police first, what would you need to know?” he inquired you and your eyes widened the same way his had.

“how long it takes them to get there.” you nodded and he quickly ran around the house. “reid!” he looked into one of the windows and found what he was looking for, screens, almost 15 of them over one another showing live feed of people lives. when tobias spotted him, he started to run. spencer called after you. “get back here! he’s the unsub, he’s in the barn, come on!” you took out your weapon and trailed behind him towards the barn. “he’s in here.”

“are you sure?”

“have you ever seen me pull out this thing is i wasn’t?!” he pointed at his gun and you rolled your eyes. always the same. “call hotch.”

“we’re in the middle of nowhere, reid, we have no cell service.” you stated the obvious with a. ‘seriously’ look on your face and he groaned.

“great. of course we have no service.”

“okay. let’s do this. i cover the front you go around back. hotch knows we’re here. he’ll come looking for us, we’ll just wait him out.” you stood up and he shook his head.

“no, no, no, y/l/n.” but you had already gotten into the barn leaving him behind.

“tobias hankel! fbi!” you called out, pointing your gun to your surroundings as your eyes tried to get used to the dim —almost inexistent— lightning. you toon out your flashlight as you stepped further in, taking in the interior of the barn, the chains handing from the ceiling… until something splashed below your feet, and when you looked down… blood.

next you hear? the snarling of three bloodied dogs. yellow eyes under the light of your flashlight as they bared their teeth at you, their fur so black you were sure they were more than dogs. hell hounds. ready to devours you as they already had devoured your last victim.

you gun fired at them just in time to dodge their fangs and avoid the tearing of your skin in a shriek.

your heart is pounding out of your chest as you run out of the barn to scape the third dog, that haunts you down to the back of the barn and plunges at you with hunger in his eyes, you fight, even though the fall against the dirt has left you breathless and your torso hurts due to your fractured rib. the barrel in his mouth as he nips at the metal before you push it aside and end with his fury with a shot to the head. nothing has ever made your heart break more than the whimper of pain that leaves the hound’s mouth as he falls.

you’re panting as you scramble backwards away from the body. that’s until you hear spencer’s scrambled voice.

“wait. wait. wait.”

along with tobias’ and the other unsub’s voice.

you quickly press your feet back onto the ground as you followed the sound.

“i could have stopped him by myself!” tobias shouts.

“okay. okay.”

“i tried to warn everyone.”

“just relax, mister hankel. all right?”

“shoot him!”

and then there was a mess of voices.

“no! i don’t want to!”

“i said. shoot him you weakling, he’s a satan!”

“he didn’t do anything!”

“i won’t tell you another time, boy. shoot him!”

“tobias hankel!” you pointed at him with your gun, your eyebrows furrowing when you only find the two of them, alone, no other unsubs.

spencer’s gaze falls on you. he’s on the ground, hands up.

“another devil! told you to get rid of the first, boy!” the voice of raphael that you’d only heard on the 911 recorded phone calls leaves tobias’ mouth and your frown deepens before you understand what was going on.

“raphael?” you inquired and the man looked at you with an stern despised look.

“how dares a devil call my name?” he grumbled and your whole body froze when the finger he had on the trigger twitched. he was pointing straight at spencer’s head.

your mind quickly tried to find something. anything. anything that could take the man’s attention away from the brunette. he was shaking his head at you but you’d already made up your mind. you knew what to do.

“i need to confess my sins” you looked at the genius, his brown puppy eyes on the unsub, who kept pointing at him. one mere twitch of a finger and he’d be gone.

“talk child” raphael ordered, and you swallowed.

spencer called out your name. “don’t.”

“silence!!” the man yelled, the barbell pointing at his head, to what you quickly yet calmly spoke.

“i’ve been lustful raphael. i’ve let the devil inside of me.” you quickly spoke. “and it felt so good.” the tone on your voice seemed to haunt him, his teeth gritting against the other. you knew what this man, these men, despised, and you were gonna take advantage of it. “i’ve been greedy. so greedy, raphael. i only took this job for the money, for the power. and i’ve killed innocents, i’ve killed believers like you. i fear the devil who has possessed my body has turned me into one.”

“you need saving. dirty devil whores like you need to be expunged!!” he spat. “i can save you child. i can make the forgiving loving god take you in between his arms once again.” you rose up your hands, in a quick motion of your hand throwing your weapon aside, leaving you at his grace.

“i would like that. and i know i don’t deserve it. but as a last undying wish, please, let this man be. take me and save me instead. he’s as pure as they can be.” you looked at spencer, whose eyes only read fear. maybe for his life. maybe for yours. you feared yours didn’t have saving anymore. “let my sinful life lead to the saving of the pure ones.” he looked at you, pondering. you only wished he would fall into your words, that spencer’s blood wouldn’t fall onto the hay.

“thank the lord i’m as forgiving as him, boy.” the unsub said with one last step and look in his direction, before hitting spencer in the head with the gun, making his vision turn blurry as he fell onto the floor. “now come child, let’s make you pure again.” he ordered, and with a flicker or your eyes towards the profiler, who in between merely conscious babbles called out for you with ‘don’t’s’, watched you go by the hand of who could possibly be your ending.

-

you didn’t even strain against the ropes that tightly kept you sat on the wooden chair, your eyes taking in the looking like basement in which who you had recognized as charles had dragged you to. he was messing with metal around a fireplace, and even though you wanted to think that it was all a mistake, that in reality it couldn’t be possible, you deeply knew what would happen next.

he took the bar out of the fire, the iron red in heat. “you know what this is?” he inquired, showing you the cross branded at the end

of it, a cross that will surely burn your skin and brand you for the rest of your life. “it’s god’s will.” you gasped when one of his harsh hands took a hold of the front of your shirt, tugging at it and making the buttons pop, exposing your chest to his dark eyes.

“you don’t have to do this.” you tried, although you knew it would fall on deaf ears.

“i’m just an instrument of god. and you my dear, are a devil i need to eradicate.” your fear coated eyes watched as he slowly approached the cross to your exposed skin, the warmth of the iron making your skin prickle. and even though you fought against the restrains that bounded you to your fatal fate, you could not scape his will.

a scream ripped from your throat at the searing pain of the branding, the smell of your own skin melting away making you feel sick in your lightheaded state.

“stop. please stop.” you cried out, tears falling from your eyes as he pulled away the iron from your skin, throwing it aside.

“i though you wanted this. you came to me, to us! i can see it in your eyes, you want to be saved!” he maniacally talked.

“no…” you shook your head, your vision turning white for a moment at the harsh smack he left on your cheek, making you turn away.

“that’s just the devil inside you talking, dear. don’t worry. i’ll take care of it.”

“i’m not a devil!” you begged. “i’m not a devil, i’m a woman.” but he wouldn’t believe you.

“the devil lies.” he muttered as he undid the ropes tying you to the chair, although you were still immobilized as he dragged you by your hair.

“i’m not lying! i’m not, please!”

“the devil lies.” you watched as he dragged you to a tub filled with water. “and for that i shall baptize you in the father’s holy water.”

“no, no, you don’t have to do this…” you pleaded.

“oh, but i do…” you took a forceful deep breath before cold ice water was hitting your face and head, drenching you down to your chest and new searing brand. you fought against his hold. but he was too strong. you choked on the water, trying to grasp a bit of air with every pull and tug out of the water as he practically tried to drown you, although you were becoming dizzy, on your mind the thought of dying here consuming you. you could catch fragments of his praying as he drowned you, an “amen” falling from his lips as you lost consciousness and let your body plummet into the ground.

maybe this was the end.

and strangely enough, the last thing that went through your mind before you fell onto the darkness was spencer.

-

you woke up with a gasp, back at the chair, the door of the little cabin closing behind the unsub, who carried in between his bloody arms a skinned animal.

he looked at you, and you knew this wasn’t raphael, or charles, what made you slightly sigh.

“you need to eat.” he said, putting the animal aside.

“what’s your name?” you inquired, softly, your throat sore by the cold water you had accidentally swallowed. you needed to make sure this was the man who had greeted you at his door and not the shadow taking over his mind when he wasn’t looking, or another unknown alter.

“tobias.” he answered and you nodded.

“who was here before?”

“it was probably my father.” he said, and then took on your disheveled aspect. your drenched state and the red skin-melted cross on your chest. “i’m sorry he hurt you.” he sincerely said, although you quickly panicked when you saw him walk towards you while taking off his leather belt.

“what are you doing?” oh god, please no, you through as he made quick work of pulling up the sleeve of your shirt and harshly buckling it around your arm. “no. no. please don’t.” you begged.

“it helps.” he promised as he took out a needle and a crystal little bottle. “don’t tell my father. he doesn’t know they’re here.”

you watched in between sobs as he injected the needle on the bottle, getting a shot of whatever drug it was to guide it to your arm.

“please. i don’t want it. i don’t want it. please.”

“trust me. i know.”

“please, don’t.” you whimpered, hissing in pain as the needle breached your skin, your body jolting as the drug filled your veins.

“it helps.” he muttered. “what are you doing boy?” raphael’s voice cut through. the man in front of you was splitting again. “i was just trying to help.” “help a devil?” a smack was given to his own cheek. “you’re weak! they don’t deserve help. they deserve saving. justice!!! and i’m gonna give it to her.”

“you ready, girl?” the man, now charles, tugged on your hair.

“ready for what?” you grunted.

“my weakling son thinks god gave you to him for a reason. let’s see if we’re both right.” he said letting you go to turn around your chair, pulling a camera in front of you.

-

“spencer! we already told you you can’t be here. you should be with the paramedics!” jj said, trying to stop spencer from coming into the house. where the team was trying to find out your location.

“any luck?” he inquired, ignoring the blonde, to what hotch shook his head.

“seems like the kid self-medicated with heroin. we contacted rehab and they told us they have no idea where he could be, but we found out that hankel has a serious drug problem.” prentiss said.

“that could explain the psychotic fracture.” hotch said.

“what are you talking about?” jj inquired.

“tobias is living as at least three different people.”

“himself, his father and raphael…” spencer muttered. “so we have nothing? we’ve seen what this man is capable of and we have nothing?”

“spencer…” gideon tried to stop him.

“no. you… you don’t understand. she saved me. and god knows what she could be going through…”

“we have something.” the police officer entered the house. “this could be bad news. a computer store was robbed in the middle of the night. a suburb outside of atlanta. thief got away with four laptops, external hard drives and a satellite.”

“if its tobias, it puts him right back in business.” hotch said.

and just as he muttered those words morgan was calling out for the whole team.

“guys! guys, get in here!” he yelled, guiding them to the computer’s room.

prentiss gasped at the sight of you on the screens. “she’s been beaten.”

spencer could feel all air leaving his lungs at the sight of you. drenched clothes, bleeding chest, bruised cheek and hazy eyes.

“can’t you track him?” jj inquired in a rush.

“hankel’s only streaming this to his home computer.” garcia said.

“this is for us. he knows we’re here.” gideon said.

“i’m going to put this guy’s head on a stick.” morgan cursed.

“he branded her.” spence couldn’t help but choke on his words. “oh god. this is my fault. if only i had…” his hands were on his hair, his hazel puppy eyes frantic.

“spencer, look at me. look at me!” morgan stopped him, taking his shoulders. “we’ll find her, alright? we’re gonna find her.”

“why can’t you locate him?” hotch asked garcia, to what she started typing.

“he’s rerouting to a different IP address every 30 seconds. i can’t track him.”

“there’s must be something you can do. anything!” spencer begged, while on the other side of the screen, the killer was giving you a choice.

“you really see inside men’s minds?” hankel asked, you didn’t know if you were talking to raphael or his father, charles, walking in front of the monitors. “see this vermin?” you looked at the people on the screens he had pointed at, who unknowingly lived their lives. “choose one to die. i’ll let you choose one to live.”

you shook your head. “no…”

“i thought you wanted to be some kind of savior.” he frowned walking towards you.

“i already saved someone who deserved saving.” the man grunted, tugging at your hair.

“choose.”

“you’re a sadist in a psychotic break. you won’t stop killing. your word is not true.”

he looked at the camera that recorded you.

“the other heathens are watching.” you looked at the camera. so your team was watching you… “choose a sinner to die, and i’ll say the name and address of the person to be saved.”

“i won’t choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.” he tugged harder onto your hair, smacking you and making the whole team gasp.

“you really see into my mind, girl? can you see i’m not a liar? choose one to die, save a life. otherwise, they’re all dead.” he pushed you against the chair and you closed your eyes tightly. your cheek was on fire. and surely bruised by how badly it hurt.

“alright.” you swallowed. “i’ll choose who lives.”

“all the same.”

you looked at the screens. pondering. did you have a choice? could you save them all?

“far… far sight screen…” the killer looked at that screen.

“marilyn david. 4913 walnut creek road.”

“you got that?” morgan inquired to garcia and gideon was quick to call the saved woman to warn her about the recording computer.

the screen that was recording her turned black, and when the man turned you recognized that look in his eyes. “raphael?”

“you’ve done your part. now it’s my turn.”

spencer caught on your hand moving by your side, your fingers signing words.

“guys look. she’s trying to say something.”

“what is she saying?”

but before you could finish the camera was turning off, and they lost you on the darkness.

along the lines, he knew what you were tying to say.

‘it’s not your fault.’

-

the next time you woke up a murder had taken place. and you couldn’t help but think it was your fault. you couldn’t save them. they were slaughtered because of you… and he had left you there with the screen on for you to see as he slaughtered them.

“tobias?” you inquired as the man next to you fumbled with your shirt and the leather belt on your arm.

“yeah. sorry i had to leave for awhile.” he muttered.

“you can leave again and you can take me with you.” you offered, watching him prepare another shot of heroin. your mind was still scattered due to the last one.

“my father would be angry.”

“not if he can’t find us.”

“he always finds me.” he sighed. it was as if he had been sentenced to a slow painful death. a fate he couldn’t scape.

“if you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us.” you promised.

“we can’t be saved…” he said as he looked at the needle, slightly flicking it with his finger.

“we can. we can, i promise. if you tell me where we are, i’ll save us both.”

“listen to me.” he cut you off. “it’s not worth fighting. tell me it doesn’t make it better.” he said pointing at the needle. you sobbed as he punctured your skin once again, making your consciousness start to slip.

“we can be saved. we can be saved…” you promised yourself as you felt the drug taking effect.

in the unsub’s screens suddenly pops up a red window saying that the video of the last murder he had uploaded was a virus “no!!!” you knew it had to be garcia to try and trace his IP. “they’re trying to silence my message.” gritted raphael.

“i can’t control what they do, i’m not with them. i’m with you.” you slurred.

“really?” he scoffed, clicking on the keyboard to pull out of his video an image of gideon. his voice filled your senses. he was calling out your name.

“if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this. you understand me? he’s perverting god to justify murder. you’re stronger than him. he cannot break you.”

“you think you can defy me?” he inquired to you after turning of the screens.

“i don’t know what he’s talking about.”

“you’re a liar!” he suddenly took your arm, pulling up your sleeve to show the marks of the multiple needles that had breached your skin and his face changed. it was charles. “you’re pitiful. just like my son.” you sobbed as he turned on the camera back up. “this ends now. confess your sins.” he ordered with a new smack to your face. your team was watching through the other side of the screen.

“we need to find her.” reid said. “we need to find her now!!”

“i haven’t done anything.” you cried, to what he gave you a harsh punch, splitting your lip. “tobias help me!” you begged to the man incarcerated in his own body.

“he can’t help you. he’s weak. confess!”

“tobias…” you whimpered as he slapped you across the face.

“confess your sins…” he ordered as he tugged on your hair, making you look at him.

“no…” you shook your head, all breath leaving your lungs as he pushed you down onto the floor. you started gasping for air, your body convulsing due to the drug intake and the poor oxygen that was getting into your lungs.

“oh my god he’s killing her!”penelope sobbed, the whole team in shock, spencer’s soul withering. it was his fault. your blood was on his hands. and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

he saw your eyes close. your chest stop rising. and he swore his own heart had stopped just at the same time yours had.

“she’s dead. she’s dead.” she muttered, her hands on her hair.

“and that’s the devil vacating your body…” the man said to you as he watched your life leave your body.

spencer could almost feel it himself. your body losing warmth, your limbs becoming stiff.

hankel disappeared from the screen a couple of minutes as morgan took his shoulders.

“i killed her morgan. i let him take her away and now she’s dead. it’s my fault that she’s dead…”

“spencer.”

“i killer her…” his eyes seemed empty. “she sacrificed herself for me. i could have saved her, i could have…”

“guys!!” garcia called for them at the sight of what it seemed to be tobias giving you cpr. spencer clenched his fists on the chair’s back, begging, praying for you to breath again.

oh god, please, please don’t let it be the end…

relief was short for the feeling that succumbed his body when he saw you cough.

in your dizziness you caught a glimpse of what it seemed to be the stone of a grave.

“whoa…” garcia sighed, and spence almost fell on his butt if morgan weren’t holding him.

“wait when was the video of the last murder posted?” prentiss asked, suddenly and urgently remembering something.

“9:23” garcia responded.

“and what was the time of death?”

“the 911 call came in at 9:04 and the murder must have been moments later.” hotch answered.

“that’s only a 19-minute difference.” jj said.

“how long would it take to post the MPEG?” morgan inquired.

“two, three minutes.” garcia said.

“well, let’s call it two. you figure a maximum of 60 miles an hour in a residential area. that means hankel has to be within a 17-mile radius of the crime scene.” morgan realized.

“garcia, can we see it on a map?” hotch asked.

“yeah.” she nodded, circling the area described.

“call farraday. i want that area locked down like it’s martial law.” gideon ordered.

“you came back to life…” raphael talked to you as you took your breath.

“raphael…”

“there can only be one of two reasons.” he wondered.

“i was given cpr.” you weakly tried to joke, more for yourself than anything, but he ignored you.

“there are no accidents. how many members are on your team?” he inquired.

“without me… seven.” you said.

“the seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. the first sounded and there followed hail and fire mixed with blood, and they were thrown to earth.” he recited.

“he thinks it’s revelation. the seven archangels versus the seven angels of death.” hotch muttered.

“tell me who you serve.” raphael ordered.

“i serve you.” you responded, no thoughts in your head. you were playing chess with the devil himself and you had the make him belief he was winning… for now.

“then choose one to die.”

“what?”

“your team members. there must be a real devil in between you disguised as an angel. choose to die.”

“kill me.” you weakly offered, but he shook his head.

“you came back to life. you mustn’t be the devil.”

“i lied.”

“your team has seven other members. tell me who dies.”

“no.” you shook your head, and watched him as he took out of his pocket a gun, turning the cylinder of the gun to later on point at your head.

“choose and prove you’ll do god’s will.”

“no.” the trigger clicks. and you’re still here. the gun cocks again.

second round.

“choose.”

“i won’t do it.” the trigger clicks once again, just as the gun cocks.

“life is a choice.”

“no.”

once again.

“choose.” you hesitate, thinking, until your lips

part and you speak.

“i choose spencer reid.” the team freezes. “he’s a classic narcissist. he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team. i despise him.” you said. “genesis 23:4. ‘let him not deceive himself and trust in emptiness, vanity, falseness and futility, for this shall be his recompense.’ “

spencer after hearing you quickly left the room, just as raphael cocked the gun and fired the bullet that would have blown your brains out on the wall. you shiver.

“he’s the devil you want.”

you watch him take another bullet and put it in the cylinder. “for god’s will.”

the team follows spencer onto the kitchen’s table. he’s got a bible in between his hands. “i’m not a narcissist.” gideon sighs.

“come on. look, you can’t take anything from that. she’s not on her right mind, reid.”

“that’s not what i’m saying. stop. okay, everybody right now, what’s my worst quality?” they all fell silent. “okay.” his lips tugged in this thin line be always managed to do. “maybe i’m a little bit narcissistic. but i’ve never put myself above the team. cause i don’t. ever. y/n and i argued about the definition of classic narcissism, and she knew that i would remember that. and she also quoted generis 23:4. read it.” he babbled before giving the bible to jj.

“ ‘i am a stranger and a sojourner with you, give me property for a burial place among you that i may bury my dead out of sight.’”

“she wouldn’t get it wrong unless it was on purpose. i know that.” reid said. “she’s a genius.”

“she’s in a cemetery.” morgan said and they quickly went back in their steps.

“i don’t see a cemetery.” prentiss said looking at the screen once the whole team was back with penelope.

“call up the first time we saw her.” gideon asked the blonde, who put on the video of you, in which you said ; ‘i won’t choose who gets slaughtered and have you leave their remains behind like a poacher.’

“check to see if there are any reposts of poaching in the last couple of days.” hotch said.

“okay…” penelope typed. “a farmer reported two sheep being slaughtered on his property.”

“where are we talking?” morgan asked. the screen focused on an even littler portion of map in walton.

“what’s that patch of green there?” jj inquired, and garcia focused on marshall parish.

“marshall parish. i think it’s an old plantation.” hotch wondered.

“wait. tobias wrote in his journals about ‘staying clean’ and ‘keeping away from marshall’” emily pointed out.

“guys. there’s a cemetery on the grounds.” penelope said.

-

you slurped up as much water as you could, your eyes meeting his face.

“tobias? is that you?” you inquired.

“yeah.” he nodded, giving you more to drink, which you gladly took.

“thank you.” you breathlessly said. “you saved my life.”

“i’m sorry.”

“why?”

“he’ll win in the end.” he muttered, putting aside the glass of water.

“tobias, i need to know something. it’s important. are we in a cemetery?”

he nodded. “i used to come here to get high.”

“i was right.” you smiled to yourself as he got you ready for another shot of heroin.

“no one bothers you here. i never told anyone about it.” he said as he buried the needle on your skin and pressed. he let you be as the drug took its effect on your body, his personality shifting once again.

“i’m sorry… i’m so sorry…” you sobbed, your mind dizzy. every time you closed your eyes, there he was. with his brown caramel curls, hazel eyes and pretty smile. you only wish he had given you one before you’d die…

“why are you sorry, girl?” raphael inquired you and you cried.

“i didn’t notice. i couldn’t have. he was right in front of me, and i… i… i pushed him away. i couldn’t help it.”

“is that a confession?”

you nodded, sniffling. “i confess.”

“being sorry won’t save you now, girl.”he walked towards you and took away your bounds. “grab a shovel.”

you followed his orders, and let him lead the way towards a part of the cemetery, where he pushed you to your knees and ordered you to start digging.

“i ought to bury you alive in there. give you time to think about what you’ve done.”

“i know what i’ve done…”

“don’t talk back to me!” he kicked you harsh in your side, and if your rib wasn’t broken before, you were sure that it was now. “dig.” you sobbed in between gasps of air, complying. “dig faster!”

“i’m not strong enough.” you muttered in a frail voice.

“you’re all weak.” he scoffed, taking off his jacket. your eyes caught lights behind him. it was your team. “get out of there.” he looked at where you were looking, and once he had turned, you grabbed the jacket he had tossed onto the ground and took ahold of his gun, pointing it at him. he pointed at you with his knife. “only one bullet in that gun, girl. you better not miss.” he growled as he stepped closer and you fired it. you thanked god as the bullet hit his chest. you crawled towards him once his body had hit the ground, tossing away his knife as he looked at you. “you killed him…” it was no longer his father.

“tobias?”

“there she is!”hotch exclaimed.

“do you think i’ll get to see my mom again?” he inquired you.

“i’m sorry.” you whispered, watching the light leave his eyes.

you heard spencer calling your name, feeling his warm arms caging you against his chest and pulling you away from tobias. “you’re alright. you’re alright…” he muttered, his hand on your messy locks, holding you close. you’d never felt safe in your life. until now.

“i knew you’d understand…” you smiled, your body weak and falling limp against his. “you’re a genius, spencer…” you somehow managed to babble as your eyes started to close.

“hey, come on, stay with me. stay with me y/n, please…”you could muster out his soft voice calling out for you, shaking you. “call the medics! someone please call the medics!!!!”

-

a/n; this took so long to write…😫 but i’m so happy with it! finally some angst!!<33

[de4dlyniightshade]

hi i love your spencer reid stuff can you do reader ovulating with post prison reid and baby reid

i've been meaning to write a fic abt this and i literally have another ask abt it so maybe this is my sign

post prison reid would know even if you didn't act any different, he can just feel your lust from across the room(he also knows your cycle but he'll never tell you that)so he just waits you out, letting you get so wound up and horny until you couldn't take it.

he'd know the second you're sitting down beside him so sweetly, a complete façade for what you really wanted, his cock buried so deep in you that his tip is pressing to your cervix, begging him to cum in you, to fill you to the brim and the second he's smiling so nicely and placing a kiss on your lips it's over, your hands gripping the sides of his neck, pulling him into you, devouring his mouth with your own, your tongue slipping into his warm mouth as you moan at the simple act of kissing.

it doesn't take long for you to be laid back on the sofa, stripped naked and desperately whining for him, begging him to fuck you as he strips off his own clothes painfully slow, to you at least, in reality he wasn't slow at all, he just wasn't fast enough for your lust filled mind, fuelled with nothing but the unadulterated desire to breed, which is when you decided you didn't want to be on your back, quickly turning yourself to present your waiting pussy to him, emphasising it by shaking your ass a little as if to encourage him, not that he needed it, he couldn't resist fucking your pretty pussy even if it would kill him.

"oh spence!" you gasped as he finally sunk into you, his cock stretching you just right as he filled you in one go, not waiting to let you adjust because he knew you didn't want him to, he knew you wanted to feel the dull throbbing pain of his cock stretching you out and the second he pulled back just to thrust in harder you were gone, completely pliant under him, letting your top half drop to the couch, your back arched beautifully as spencer held your hips, pulling you back onto his length in time with his thrusts.

the sound of your needy whimpers and moans made it hard for spencer to compose himself, fighting the urge to cum too soon, not that you'd complain, it's what you wanted after all, his cum shooting into your pussy, breeding you full.

"i-inside! p-please, need it" you moaned out, high pitched and fucked out as spencer gripped your hips, pounding into you as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, jaw falling slack, letting out every little sound for him.

"want me to breed you, baby?" he asked, which was a dumb question, of course you did, but the word breed coming from his lips for the first time had your head spinning, babbling complete nonsense as you clenched around his cock, a slick, wet sound filling the room along with skin against skin as he fucked you harshly.

"c-cum, 'm g-gonna cum, spence" you cried, tears pricking your eyes as the feeling of your approaching orgasm completely overwhelmed you, spencer's cock dragging against your sensitive walls making you a complete mess, about as messy as you thought you could get until he reached around you, pressing his middle and index finger to your sensitive clit and rubbing fast circles, his pace never faltering as he moaned your name, mumbling praises to you.

"cum for me, pretty girl" was all you fully heard, the words sending you over the edge, letting out a choked, high pitched moan as your cunt spasmed and clenched, the feeling making spencer follow quick after you, pushing his cock as deep as it would go and releasing into you with a low moan of your name and a few curses, the feeling of his warm cum filling you making you smile a lewd smile, finally having what you wanted.

baby reid would be caught completely by surprise when you practically pounced on him after inviting yourself over, not without a text first, simply telling him you were on your way to his apartment, hiding your true intentions until you got there.

"wh-" spencer tried to speak but was cut off by you pressing your lips to his in a needy, open mouthed kiss, your hands holding his cheeks to keep him where you wanted him, under you. you had led him to his room almost immediately when you arrived, spencer slightly confused but following nonetheless and as soon as you were pushing him to sit on the bed you were in his lap.

"want you" you husked, your breathing heavy, lips brushing against his as you spoke, the lewd words making spencer whine quietly, the sound only making you feel more feral as you moved to lift the hem of his shirt, spencer helping you remove it before you moved onto yours, pulling it over your head in one quick motion, the sight of your breasts making spencer bite his lip.

you quickly stood from his lap to shimmy your pants and underwear down, kicking them off to the side before you reached out to undo spencer's, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you watched him hook his thumbs into the waistband, tugging them down over his ass and mirroring what you did, discarding them to the side to deal with later.

spencer didn't understand what had come over you to want him so badly all of a sudden but he wasn't going to complain about it, the way you looked at him with hunger in your eyes making his cock twitch, he felt desirable and loved.

"wanna sit on your cock, baby, lie back" you ordered in a sinfully sweet tone, slightly out of breath and panting, spencer complying immediately, his back meeting the sheets as you clambered into his lap, letting your hand rest on his chest to balance yourself as you took his length into your hand, guiding him towards your waiting pussy, too desperate for any foreplay or teasing, you needed him inside you.

as soon as you were sinking down on him your mind went quiet, nothing but bliss as you sighed, the sound of spencer moaning almost distant to you as your jaw fell slack, eyes closed, dropping your head forward and placing your hands on his ribs as you lifted yourself slowly before dropping back down, the sound of your ass meeting his thighs filling the the room.

it didn't take long for you to be riding him like your life depended on it, moaning wantonly and with no regard for how loud you were being as spencer's hands held your waist, his head thrown back against the sheets as he whimpered and moaned, never having been fucked so rough by you before, there was something so beautiful about it, just pure lust and desire, human nature, the need to have his cum in you.

"g-gonna c-cum" he gasped as his back arched, his cock throbbing deep inside you as you fucked him raw, your pace only getting harsher at his words. "cum inside me, baby" you moaned, spencer's eyes widening at your words, usually you used a condom but he was fine with pulling out in this situation but you were now asking him to cum inside you, completely unprotected, he just couldn't say no to you.

it didn't take long for him to be spilling his cum into you with a loud, high pitched moan, the feeling of him filling you up with his release sending you over the edge soon after with a choked whimper, your pace slowing to a gentle thrusting as you rode out both your highs.

A/N: how tf did this become so mf long???? and when i actually have fics to write i can't even get a paragraph. also this kinda became breeding kink type shit but like...can you blame me?

[beardedjoel]

smother - part iii: compliance

dark!joel x f!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: the deeper you fall into his trap, the further you start to lose a sense of what you really want. 10.4k words chapter warnings: 18+ MDNI! noncon, nonconsensual touching, dubcon - reader eventually enthusiastically consents but the syndrome is stockholming so its dubcon, coercion, reader is a virgin, big juicy age gap (reader is 19, joel is 55), ddlg (no infantilization of reader) daddy!dom joel is coming out to play this chapter, fingering, handjob, joel's corruption kink confirmed here, joel is both mean (hurts reader briefly) and sweet once again, if these darker tags aren't your cup of tea please keep scrolling! a/n: oh we're SO back with some smut this chapter! this story has me pushing my own limits on creativity and stuff and that has really been rewarding so far, i love it and i love dark!joel. anyhoooo please enjoy my lovelies 🤍 reminder i have no taglist anymore! follow @beardedjoel-updates and turn on notifs for when i post there!

It’s okay it’s okay it’s okay…

Joel’s words echo in your ear from where they were whispered moments ago as he pressed himself into you from behind, urging you up the stairs towards his bedroom. One hand gripped firmly on your upper arm, the other on the small of your back, fingers exploring along your bare skin. You turn back once more with worried, widened eyes as you reach the top of the steps and he presses against you again, nearly pushing you. 

“I got ya, sugar” he says quietly, stopping for a moment to nuzzle into your neck before pushing you along. The new pet name he’s trying out makes you blink a few times, half liking the sweet implication. His deep breath in and out tickles your skin and you suddenly feel itchy from his facial hair scratching there. Panic claws its way up from your stomach, suddenly unsure of everything, like you’re just snapping out of the stupor you were in from Joel’s lips. 

Joel had made you feel good downstairs just moments ago, giving you that first, unforgettable kiss. It was so much more hungry and wet and passionate than you’d ever envisioned a kiss being, and it made you feel even more anxious that you truly were out of your depth here. 

You’ve managed in your fog to pad your way to Joel’s bedroom with him close behind you, his heat seeping into your skin, his body close enough to morph right into yours. He spins you immediately to face him and starts to kiss you again the moment you’re inside his bedroom. After just a moment of surprise, you fall right back into it, his tongue dancing a perfect rhythm against yours and you whimper and moan quietly. You find your body wanting to be closer closer closer to him so you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers grazing right against the curls at the base of his neck. 

Joel pulls back to smile down at you, a wicked thing as his eyes glint before he dives back in. He’s devouring you, hands all over your body as if he doesn’t know which spot to get enough of next. He’s suddenly lifting you up, large palms spread underneath your thighs as he hoists you up against him, carrying you so that you don’t have a chance to stop him from bringing you to his bed. 

That same bed you’d seen him just hours earlier, the moment that had started this fucked up chain of events you’d fallen into.

“There we go, jus’ relax,” Joel coos as he lays you down flat, your head right against the mattress. He climbs on top of you, trapping you completely before his lips smash into yours again. He’s taking now, giving you no room to push back or speak as his tongue laps into your mouth over and over, hearty groans escaping him. Sounds that a famished man makes eating his favorite meal. It makes you shudder, the way you’ve started to feel like his meal, like something he could just enjoy and toss away the scraps he leaves afterwards. 

“Christ, so fuckin’ innocent, sugar. I’ll teach you so many things to do w’that tongue,” he comments slyly after you hesitantly try to use your tongue in the same way as he was. Joel’s lips drag down your chin to your neck and start to suck on various spots, a little soft at first to test you but more hurried and rough the longer he goes. His body grinds against yours a bit and you lay back, feeling breathless. Your body burns and burns as he marks you and moves against you, your thighs aching all the way to the apex. 

You squirm a little bit, a foreign discomfort completely taking over, and Joel pulls back to look down at you. He strokes the side of your head from your forehead all the way back, looking at you with warmer eyes. 

“Gonna be okay, I’ll show ya how good you can feel…” he murmurs as his fingers start to trace along your bottom lip. “Now I’m gonna peek at a little more of ya,” he announces before sliding down your tense body, straddling your legs before hooking his fingers in your sweatpants. They’re down and shoved off your legs before you can even process it, leaving you in just a pair of plain white panties. His eyes roam up every inch of your body, white heat flickering low in your belly at the way Joel looks at you. 

“Now that’s a sight…” He smirks, sliding his hands up your thighs to rest on your hips, treating each spot he touches with a new reverence. You’ve started to tremble a little, the chilly air biting at you along with this vulnerable feeling, being so exposed. 

“Y-you like the way I look?” you ask tentatively, having to clear your throat from lack of use. Your sudden urge for validation from him strikes you hard and you silently curse yourself. 

Joel smiles at the unexpected question from you and gives you a singular nod. “‘Course I do. You’re real beautiful, sweetheart. ‘Specially like this.” His eyes land between your legs as he says the last words, licking his lips out of habit. He slinks up next to you, laying close to you and wrapping an arm around you, enveloping you in everything Joel.

“Now don’t ya feel safe here like this? Got me right here holdin’ you, gonna make it all okay.”

You just nod, swallowing the anxious lump in your throat. “I’m… just scared…” you admit, willing your cheeks to stop burning hot with all the emotions swirling around inside of you. Desire, embarrassment, discomfort, doubt - all mixing up to create a disastrous thundering of your heart inside of your chest. 

“Baby, nothin’ to be scared of…” Joel coos, kissing your shoulder and peppering them across the top of your chest as he leans over your body. 

“You’re not gonna hurt me?” you wonder aloud. You’d heard stories through the grapevine of other girls - fearful stories of pain or blood that had nearly revolted you at the time, made you almost glad there were no men paying that type of attention to you just yet. You’d always hoped they were just exaggerated tales, and you suppose you’re finally about to find out for yourself. 

“I’ll be honest, sweet girl. This might hurt a little bit. Just ‘cause it’s your first time.” His lips suckle at the swell of your breast and you squirm a little, back arching into it as your breath hitches. You try to focus back on his words as his lips move an inch and do the same motion, a gentle sucking so close to your nipple now that you nearly puff your chest in his direction, hoping his mouth will land there next. 

“But it’s such a special kind of love a man can show ya on your first time, darlin’. Get to have all of you…” he muses, his warped excitement becoming more palpable by the second, filling the room and stifling the air. “I’ll be gentle,” he adds on as he sees another spark of fear on your face. 

“You’ll be gentle…” you repeat quietly, squeezing your eyes shut in some type of silent prayer. You feel the needle-like prickle of tears behind your eyes again, begging yourself to do anything but cry right now. You dig your nails deep into your palms, squeezing your fists tight to keep the pain there instead of burning deep in your stomach where it’s settled. 

How can you be this close to all of it and still so unsure? Would you ever be sure? Or is this how everyone feels during their first time?

Joel finally pops one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harder while his hand plays with your free nipple, rolling it between his fingers. You cry out at the unexpected sensation and wriggle your body, only to be held down a little harder by Joel. 

“Mm-mm,” he hums, “No squirmin’ away.” His mouth quickly finds a home on your breasts again as you try to still your body, not wanting to make him upset. You’d seen how he behaved when he was upset with you, and it was not something you found yourself wanting to repeat. 

”Pretty little nipples, sweetheart,” Joel says, talking at your chest while he flicks his tongue on the hard bud, unrelenting in his tasting of your sweet, supple skin. “Look at ‘em all day if I could. Half a mind to have you walk ‘round w’your tits out all the time.” He chuckles dryly before he sucks again, a little harder and you bite back the gasp that sticks in your throat at the jolt of pleasure it sends rocking through your body. “You’d do that f’me, wouldn’t you? Jus’ to get a little of ‘ol Joel’s attention?”

His words make you itchy, almost, in a strange, foreign way, one that’s hard to explain even to yourself. Like you want to crawl out of your skin, yet want to hear his words over and over, hear more of the things he sees in you, would want from you. You’d never found yourself to be someone with much to offer anyone, really, and hearing Joel already find so much to dote on is inflicting you with the most unexpected addiction you could have imagined.

You feel Joel’s fingers squeeze your chin suddenly, your eyes flicking open to glance down at him. “Answer me when I’m speakin’ to you,” Joel says softly despite the commanding tone of his words. 

“I - yes,” you answer, tripping over the single word as you push it out in a hurry. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs in response, leaning up to peck a kiss on the spot on your chin he’d been gripping. “Now you’re gonna let me make you feel good, ain’t ya? Let me treat you like a princess, show you what all the other men shoulda done but were too dumb. Chance with a pretty girl like you,” he rambles with a little scoff. “All meant f’me, anyways.” His conclusion seems to satisfy him as he grins, taking in your body with a hot gaze, lingering at the base of your stomach where his hands are itching to go. He doesn’t wait for your answer this time, sliding his hand right down, skillfully touching your soft skin the entire way.

Joel’s fingers start to trace the band of your panties, that satisfied grin still plastered on his face as he watches your reactions - your little sharp inhales and small twitches of your face as you feel him exploring your body. His eyes can’t help but drift down to watch your chest heave, pert tits on display and abused, hard nipples poking out into the air. He has a tempting thought to spend his entire night with his face buried right there, but he has more pressing matters to get to, he reminds himself as he feels his cock twitch inside his jeans. 

He suddenly sighs as he pads the outside of your underwear, his face nearly pained looking in his ecstasy. “You’re soaked f’me, sugar,” Joel says, breathless. You feel yourself flush hot, your cheeks burning, thinking this has to be something to be embarrassed about, something that shows your lack of experience and your fear.

“‘S not a bad thing,” Joel tells you quickly, seeming to read your mind yet again. He doesn’t stop, his fingers teasing the fabric that starts to seep onto his digits. “Means you like all this, means your body is tellin’ us you’re ready.”

“Oh,” you say flatly, feeling dumb for not having much better to say. “I- uh, are you going to do it now, then?”

Joel chuckles, a genuine sound ringing through the quiet room, like he’s amused. “Christ,” he breathes out, swirling his fingers along the fabric, making your hips jump as he brushes your bundle of nerves. “You’re too cute, so perfect f’me. I get to teach you everythin’.”

Your brain can barely register his words, too focused on that little spasm that had just rocked its way through your body when Joel’s fingers touched along that sensitive spot. You blink, biting your lip as his fingers tease everywhere but there, silently urging him to brush there again.

Joel huffs another laugh watching your contorted, concentrated face. “Already fucked out, can’t think about nothin’ but these fingers, huh?” he teases you, amusement lacing his voice. His fingers make a tight circle over your clothed clit and you inhale sharply through your teeth, stifling a little noise from deep in your chest. “That what you wanted? Jus’ desperate f’me to touch your clit, sugar?”

You shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the absurdity of this feeling. “I don’t - I don’t…” you murmur, trying to convince yourself for what feels like the final time that you don’t want any of this. That you don’t feel an amoral, wicked pull towards this man that you shouldn’t - this man who has treated you like prey, is far too old to be interested in you, who by all accounts should be sending you fighting and running. A man you know likely has debased plans for you that you can barely even conjure up in your own mind, but plans that you are slowly realizing you want to be a part of, are curious about. 

His care, his touch, his infatuation. They could all be yours, if you’d let him.

“Think you do… look at you, innocent little thing. Wrestlin’ w’yourself. Nothin’ wrong happening here, honey.”

You look to his dark eyes, seeking guidance, reassurance. “I-it’s not? I feel so…” You can’t put any of it into words for him, how intense the feeling is, how badly your body is craving something that you don’t know anything about yet. How dirty you feel for wanting it with him.

He shakes his head slowly to try and convince you. “Mm-mm. I feel it too, sugar. ‘S jus’ attraction, desire. Makes you burn all hot in here, don’t it?” he asks, cupping your aching, wet cunt through your panties. You gasp at the fullness of his hand against your throbbing folds while you nod fervently, taking in a deep breath to steady yourself as his fingers curl and then drag up your clothed slit. Your head arches back a little and you let out a tiny mewling sound through closed lips. Your mind muddles instantly, eyes rolling back as he repeats the motion, this time letting his fingers trail off to the edge of your panties, teasing the hem there.

“Thas’ it, let yourself enjoy it, princess. Let daddy take care of you.”

He’s barely controlling himself now, his breath heavy against your neck as he starts to move with more urgency, teeth scraping against your delicate skin. Your brow furrows quickly at the new reference to himself but his teeth sink into your flesh with a soft nip, pulling your mind back to the present. 

“You’re gonna like this,” he murmurs quietly into your skin as his fingers fiddle one final time at your waistband before wiggling under, diving deep and sliding his fingers right into your wet slit. 

“Oh… m-my, g-“ you whimper as quietly as you can when he slips them back and forth a few times, brushing your clit on each one, gathering up a lewd amount of slickness on his fingers. He spreads your wet folds delicately, feeling his way around almost respectfully, desperate breaths puffing out of his nose.

“Poor baby… soakin’ yourself this whole time… never even knowin’ how good you could feel, how much y’need a cock in here,” Joel says, sounding truly devastated for you. His brazen language makes your head spin and your cheeks flourish with warmth. And then it finally happens - his fingers swirl over your clit again. 

You cry out loud this time, unable to hold it back when his circling tightens and he puts more pressure down on the aching little bud. The heat from between your legs starts to spread to your lower belly, pulling taut and warm as it settles there.

“Oh…” you murmur, back arching when Joel adds a second finger to the motion. Your legs shake a little as they lay flat on the bed, knees starting to bend of their own volition to help your hips start to wriggle closer to his touch. You stutter out another moan when his fingers press harder, the feeling shooting what feels like sparks through your entire bloodstream, straight to your head. You’re foggy, thoughts clouded over as everything else starts to fade out. Your mind pinpoints on Joel’s touch, practically seeing just his fingers in your mind's eye and the sensation that’s quickly boiling in your core, tightening with each movement he makes. 

“Yeah, feelin’ so good ain’t you princess?” Joel coos with a grin, making his movements a little faster. “First one to touch this little clit, first one to see ya like this, writhin’ around like an animal in heat. God…” He marvels at your microexpressions, the contortions of your body, the way he can see you’re holding back, not wanting to seem too eager. 

“Let go, sweetheart. Be loud f’me. Be loud f’daddy,” Joel urges you, eyes practically bugging out of his head as he sees you start to sheen a little with sweat, your body hot and tingling next to him. He smirks as he slips a finger down, eliciting a desperate cry from you when it leaves your clit to tease your entrance. 

“D-daddy…” you start, meaning it as more of a question, wanting to understand what he’s getting at, but it trails off into a pathetic little cry when the tip of his index finger pushes into you unexpectedly.

Joel has died and gone to heaven, if his expression is any indication as he breathes out shakily, hardly in control of his actions at this point. “Thas’ right, thas’ right, princess. Call out f’me while I’m inside ya.”

“F-fuck,” you let slip out. “Y-you’re inside?” you ask him in slight disbelief that it’s really happening. You go completely breathless as he starts to play with your clit again, using his thumb to flick urgently there while he lets his finger settle inside of you. 

Joel wriggles his finger deeper, burying his index finger almost to the hilt as he nods, turning your head with his free hand to make sure you’re looking at him. 

“Naughty little thing, cursin’ cause daddy made you feel that good.” He smirks, letting you sweat it out for another moment before answering your question in a softer voice, almost sweet and caring. “‘M inside, sugar. Feels so fuckin’ good, too. Perfect, tight little hole all f’me.”

You’ve become a trembling mess, the fullness from Joel’s finger overwhelming you. The tingling warmth spreads to your belly from where he starts to move his finger, slowly at first.

“Yeah, there we go, takin’ me so well,” Joel mumbles as you relax around his finger, pressing in and out in sloppier motions. You gasp when his finger presses in to the hilt, then he repeats it over and over, filling you up. Your hips twitch and grind a little into him, into the feeling of his thumb flicking carefully at your clit.

“O-oh…” you whimper out, gushes of warmth coating Joel’s finger, running down onto his hand. He grunts an approving noise as he feels the way your body pours out slickness for him. This is pure heaven, he concludes to himself, nothing in the world could be sweeter than the feeling of taking this from you and getting so much in return.

“Christ, you are perfect,” he says near your ear. “This okay, princess?”

You just give him a nod, barely able to speak as your entire body starts to feel warmer and drawn tight, Joel’s finger on your clit moving at an achingly slow pace.

“Gonna feel somethin’ for just a second, mkay?” he says quietly, not bothering to clue you in any further before retreating his index finger and snuggling his middle finger right next to it, inserting them both into your weeping entrance.

Joel breathes a sigh, the air fanning across your bare chest. “Mmm, so tight, baby. Thas’ it, just focus right on me,” he says as your eyes open wide and look right into his. You feel the burn from his second finger, so thick and wide in comparison, your body adjusting to the new sensation.

“J-joel…” you whimper quietly when he starts to move them with more force, your brow furrowing with the strange mixture of pain and pleasure. 

“Y’need to relax, c’mon,” he urges, using his free hand to rub gentle circles on your shoulder. “Promise we’ll get you feelin’ real good, sweetheart. We gotta get you all stretched out to fit all ‘f me.” He rubs a soothing hand on your shoulder with his free one, shushing you when he sees the look of worry on your face. 

“Jus’ enjoy it.”

His words echo in your mind as you start to fully embrace all the sensations. You feel a burning heat in your core start to radiate, pulling tight, so tight it’s nearly maddening before your hips shift the tiniest bit and find your release, the tightness completely snapping from one moment to the next. 

“Oh my god… oh my god… oh…” you cry out, feeling yourself starting to shake, your entire body ravaged by oncoming waves and waves of pleasure. 

“Look at me when you come, princess,” Joel says sternly as he grasps your face, turning your head in his direction. You slowly creep your eyes open and see his dark pools full of a sense of smugness and wonder. “God, fuck, that’s good, keep comin’ f’me,” he breathes out, feeling your slick pouring out onto his hand as you come. 

You’ve never felt so amazing in your entire life, the only thought you can think is more more more as you moan loudly, any shame in doing so long gone when you feel this incredible. White heat envelops you, sending your vision speckled and your back arching off the bed completely, your hips spasming down to where Joel sloppily yet expertly fucks you with his fingers. You grip at the sheets with one hand, Joel’s shirt with the other, squeezing them both to try to hang on to reality. 

“Good girl, good little girl… god you’re pretty when you come,” Joel says, talking you through it. His fingers are merciless until the last second, when your hips drop to the bed with a sudden thud, your entire body limp, only your hips jumping with a need to get away from the overstimulation. 

“Oh, that was a big one, now, wasn’t it?” Joel asks softly, pulling his hand from between your legs and resting it on your thigh, his other still soothing on your cheek. Your eyes flutter and roll back as you catch your breath, trying to wrap your mind around what just happened. 

“Uh-huh…” you murmur dazedly, your hand still resting on Joel’s chest after letting go of his shirt. 

Joel peppers your face with soft, loving kisses, finally reaching your lips and kissing you deeper. You’re lost, somewhere in another dimension completely, kissing him back without any knowledge of doing so. The warmth of his lips starts to bring you back and you flutter your eyes open as he pulls back. 

“Y’did real good. How’d that feel, huh, sugar?” Joel inquires, looking down at you expectantly. 

“S-so… good… I can’t explain…”

“Mhm, I know what ya mean,” he replies sweetly, “Hard to explain, jus’ all that pleasure. Loved makin’ you feel that good, honey.” Joel leans in to kiss your cheek, using his hand to tilt you towards him and plants another kiss on your lips. You moan quietly, body overstimulated and exhausted, the now empty space between your legs aching and tingling for him.

You roll your head back onto the pillow, unable to respond. Joel places a hand over the one of yours that rests on his chest and rubs his thumb over the back. 

“Gonna make you feel like that all the time,” he says with an oddly devoted, sweet tone, leaning down and surprising you with another kiss. Your eyes open again and he’s looking at you with that look again. “So much more we could do,” he adds, shifting his smile into something more hungry again. 

“Wh-“ you start to ask, and Joel’s finger touches your lip gently. You can taste the remnants of yourself on it - such a strange, foreign flavor that makes you smack your lips a little. Joel’s amusement at your response shows quickly on his face as he traces his finger along your lips with a soft smile.

He starts to sit up and lean back on the bed, sending your hand dropping from his chest, a quick bounce on the mattress before it stills. His hands reach to his waist, fingers working at his belt. You stare, eyes transfixed on his every move as your heart starts to beat more quickly, anxiety flooding your system as you toil over what comes next. 

“Ain’t done with you yet, sweet girl,” he mumbles, belt now hanging loose and open while he palms himself outside of his jeans. Your mind races at the prospect of seeing what you saw from afar this morning just this much closer. Joel reads your deer in the headlights expression and smirks, head cocked as he looks down at you, sitting next to you on the bed, knees pushed into the mattress. 

You swallow hard, the apparent lump sliding down your throat and it makes your cheeks burn how openly nervous you are. Joel strokes a hand gently down the side of your head before pushing off the mattress and standing next to the edge of the bed. 

“Time f’you to see a real man, in all his glory,” Joel says, teasingly, like he knows something you don’t. And he does, you suppose, know a lot of things that you don’t in this regard.

He starts to peel off his jeans, letting them pool by his ankles, belt buckle clanging all the way down before he steps out of them. He has on a pair of dark boxer briefs, hard to tell if they’re black or navy in the fading evening light of his bedroom. All you can focus on is the apparent bulge there, knowing what’s underneath, that shockingly large part of him he’d stroked earlier because of you.

He wastes little time pulling his shirt over his head, revealing his hulking, muscular form, soft yet hard, toned and strong but fleshy and dusted with salt and pepper curls of hair, leading right down to the waistband of his briefs.

Your eyes flick from between his thighs to his face, searching his eyes for any kind of assurance, any kind of assistance in how to act, what to do next. He just remains as cocky as ever, hand grazing the outside of the tented fabric as he stares down at you with hooded eyes.

“You wanna see it, babygirl? Wanna touch daddy’s cock?” He rubs himself a little faster, a tiny growl suppressed in his chest while he awaits your answer. “Know you do, know you’re such a curious girl.”

You unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth and nod, swallowing hard again. “Y-yes, I want to see,” you finally say, meek and shaky, shrinking in on yourself like you’re preparing for a bomb to go off, afraid of what you’re about to witness. In what feels like a flash, his briefs are down on the ground, Joel’s cock springing free almost violently as it slaps against him. You stare for a moment, taking in the way it juts out from his body - rock hard, shiny pink head dripping and veins running along the length of him. You feel speechless, unsure if there’s something you’re supposed to say when a man shows you his penis.

“C’mon a little closer, princess, you can look, s’okay,” Joel says, calm and quiet. “Crawl over here.”

You hesitate a moment and push yourself up on the bed to get on your hands and knees. While it’s not a far distance, just a few paces and you’re to the side of the bed where Joel stands, he revels in the sight of you doing it, his lip caught between his teeth as he gently plays with himself. 

“Pretty girl,” Joel murmurs when you reach him, putting his hand along the back of your head and stroking once before holding on to keep you in a position to stare directly at his cock. It’s threateningly large right in your face like this, and you feel yourself shudder a bit as you watch Joel’s free hand gently touching all along the length. 

“Now, I want y’to touch it, can you do that, sweetheart?”

You hand hovers, your teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek as you peer at his member with a lack of confidence. 

“C’mon now,” Joel says, grabbing your wrist, moving your stalled, floating hand to his cock, settling your fingers on the head. Your stomach turns with the strangeness of all of this - the way you had given in to him and now felt like it was impossible to go back. Joel is gently nudging your hand, trying to urge you to move, and it brings you back to the present moment where you blink hard and focus on him again. 

“Sh-should I do this…?” you ask quietly, letting your fingers graze the head in a swirling motion, unintentionally picking up the beads of precum leaking out and you nearly pull back. Joel chuckles at your brief reaction to the liquid, then nods. 

“That’s good, real nice,” he says softly. “Touch it all over now, no need to be shy with me, okay?”

You press your lips together, unable to even look him in the eye due to your strange combination of being flustered and mortified. You can only find yourself staying focused on what you’re doing with your hands, making sure it’s right for him.

“What did I say about answerin’ me when I’m speaking to you?” Joel says a moment later, tugging on your hair to lift your gaze up to his. You wince, wishing he’d be a little more gentle with your scalp, and he sees your expression and only tightens his grip.

“I-I’m s-sorry. Um…” you take a deep breath, trying to calm your quaking hands. “Like this?” you ask him, using your fingertips to glide down the length of his cock, all the way to the base where a patch of thick curls sits. That seems to please him, a kinder smile on his face now when he nods in approval.

“Lean forward and spit right on there f’me,” he says, looking down at you and gesturing between his thighs. “Need to get it nice and wet f’daddy to feel good, okay?”

Your mouth hangs open in a stunted silence, your body unable to move without his assistance right now as he drags your hand along his dry cock. He grunts in exasperation before tugging back on your haIr again, forcing your face into a contorted wince.

“I don’t wanna hurt you, you know that, right? Y’jus’ need a firm hand, baby, helpin’ you figure all this stuff out. So why don’t ya go on ahead and do as I say, sweetheart, hm? It’d make me real happy.” His words are silken, laced with his country accent and that hidden malice he carries within him, every step, every word showing it to you, drawing you in further.

You bow your head a little as he loosens his grip, letting you decide for yourself now. “I-I’m sorry, you’re right, I- uh, d-do need your help,” you whine obediently, feeling your scalp starting to throb a tiny bit. 

Joel scratches at your head for a moment, watching you lean down closer to his cock. “Good girl, there ya go.” You can hear him smirking as you tentatively spit on his cock, watching the saliva settled on the top before dripping around the side. “Don’t be afraid, want ya to drool on it, baby, don’t worry ‘bout gettin’ messy.” He nudges your head forward and you breathe out a shaky breath before trying to desperately gather up any amount of saliva your drying mouth will offer you. You open your mouth, letting your tongue hang down before forcing yourself to spit watching more dribble onto the center of his cock.

“Fuck,” Joel grits through his teeth, feeling the sudden warm wetness of your saliva on him. “Thas’ it - f-fuck, now wrap your hand ‘round it,” he commands urgently, immediately negating any need for the words by wrapping his own hand more firmly around yours, sending your fingers curling around his length. 

“Look at that, sugar, barely even fit that little hand around me,” he says with an arrogant grin, starting to move your hand in strokes, gathering up all the slickness you’d just provided. The sound starts to reverberate through the room, that same noise you’d heard outside his door earlier.

You’re starting to feel like merely a passenger as he jerks on himself quicker using your hand, sitting in front of him almost completely naked, the real version of what he was picturing this morning as he pleasured himself. Joel smiles even more at the fantasy coming to life right before his eyes, your little panties the only thing he has left to remove before he’s seen all of you. And by god, does he want to see all of you. See what he has no doubt looks just as perfect as it felt around his fingers while he buried them inside of you.

“Take ‘em off,” Joel says as the thought pops into his head, staring down between your legs, his eyes practically glimmering.

“D-do I have to…?” you stammer out, suddenly wishing you could put back on every piece of clothing that’s now scattered between here and the kitchen downstairs.

“Now c’mon darlin’,” Joel snips, frowning a little. His hand continues to jerk yours along a little more aggressively as his breathing picks up. “Jus’ want to see your pretty body, baby girl, thas’ all. It’ll help me feel extra good right here,” he says, squeezing your hand as it moves along his cock.

You reach down and start pulling on the waistband of your panties, a little awkwardly as Joel holds your other hand hostage. You shimmy them down and sit closer to the edge of the bed, where Joel suddenly wraps his arm around your back and pulls you to the edge, leaving your legs dangling off on either side of his knees.

Joel’s hand grips at the side of your face, cupping your cheek less than delicately as he pants out, your hand moving quicker and quicker along his cock. You feel a rush of heat in your body similar to when Joel had been touching you earlier. That arousal cropping up low and deep in your belly, that feeling you want to ignore when it comes to Joel. But looking at him - sheening with sweat, his enticingly soft yet muscular belly right in your face, his face turning a shade more red with effort as he puffs out his quick breaths has you nearly squirming where you sit. It’s intimate, it’s sexual, you realize, something he’s giving to you just as much as you are him. 

“Fuck,” he spits out, tugging your hand off his cock and pushing you down with a swift shove to your chest. You fall back to the bed, nearly emotionally wounded when you notice his eyes still raking all over your body. 

“Lemme jus’ look at ya, fuck, put your legs up, show me that pretty cunt,” he demands, his hand flying back to his cock to continue stroking it as you prop your legs up on the bed, giving him the view he’s asking for. He groans loudly, deep and guttural as his eyes are glued to your glistening sex, a new slickness dripping out from the way he’s looking at you. You’ve never felt sexy before, desired, and even though the circumstances are never what you’d envisioned, you’re completely enamored with the feeling of it. Already craving more of it.

“Can’t wait to sink my cock into that tight little pussy,” he murmurs to himself, but you feel your entire body tensing at his words, taken by surprise that it might be happening right now.

Joel’s mouth curls in that devious but handsome way to the side as he sees your change in demeanor. “Shh, shh, not yet, sweetheart. Wanna keep you pure jus’ a little bit longer f’me,” he breathes out with a wink in your direction. 

Less controlled smacks of his fist against his skin fill the air of the room. You’re practically holding your breath, watching everything unfold as his cock throbs and twitches in his hold. He just watches your innocent, fascinated expressions move over your face and continues smirking down at you. 

“One thing at a time for my princess. Take you piece by piece, won’t I?” He seems so pleased to be the decider here, to say what you get, and don’t get. How he controls how he uses your body. It makes his cock throb achingly in his hand, just the thought of it alone. His to use. His to show all the pleasure. His to keep. 

He watches your lips, waiting for them to move, to answer his question. “Y-yes…” you whisper meekly. Joel groans at your compliance and his eyes flutter for a moment. He’s so close now. You understand that same feeling that had come over you for the first time not very long ago. 

“Yeah, princess, daddy’s gonna come all over you now. Tell me, say it. Say you want daddy to come all over you.” He breathes heavily, little groaning whimpers as he goes harder, his cock angry and red from the way he’s tugging on it. “Say it,” Joel booms out, and you start at the intensity of his voice, curling in on yourself for a moment. 

“I- I want daddy to come o-on me… a-all over me,” you say, hoping it’s loud enough for him to hear, that you won’t have to repeat it again. The name slides awkwardly off your tongue, wishing to understand it, make sense of why it made your core tingle for just a moment when you said the words. 

“God, bet you do, yes, fuck, daddy’s gonna come now, paint that perfect body with it,” Joel punches out before his hips stutter forward, his hand giving a few jerks as he starts to come hard, the white stickiness splattering onto you - your stomach, your breasts, even where your legs lay open for him to look at as his own personal little show. He heaves as the final bits spill out and he leans his head back, sighing. 

“God damn, so good, baby girl. You did amazing,” he coos, climbing onto the bed next to you. He sits while you lay motionless, nearly stunned from what you’d witnessed, the constant reminder of it in the form of his warm liquid dripping along your body. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” he says more softly, picking up your discarded panties and carefully swiping his mess off of you with them, curling his body close to yours. 

“That’s better,” he announces, holding the white cotton up to inspect the way his cum stains them now with a wry smirk. He sets them aside on his nightstand before his hands slip underneath your back and your legs to cradle you, pulling you into his lap. He sits back on the bed, nestling the both of you against the headboard as he settles you across his thighs. “This okay?” he asks, stroking your back. 

“Mhm.” You nod quietly and thread an arm around his torso, intertwined under where his arm reaches up to meet you. The movement comes naturally, more than you’d care to admit, wanting to feel loved and cared for right now. You hate the tears that sting your eyes again, like you’re not strong enough to handle something like this, something that adults do. 

“S-sorry,” you say, swiping your eyes quickly and trying to avoid any tears falling. 

“Shh, don’t be sorry. Y’did such a good job, y’know that? Normal to get emotional if it’s your first time.”

You chew on your lip and then look up at Joel, his features already strangely comforting and familiar. The speckled, tan skin that you want to touch more of, his dark lashes that fall over his eyes when he looks down at you like this.

“B-but it wasn’t… my first time…”

“Sure it was. First time doin’ somethin’ like that. It’s a lot for a sweet girl like you. But you’ll feel good again, just like tonight, I promise ya that.”

You nod, slightly more encouraged by Joel’s words as you relax a little more into his embrace. “That… release… it’s an orgasm, right?” You nearly choke on the words, shame flooding you for even having to ask. 

Joel blows out a teasing breath through his nostrils. “God damn, nobody out there teachin’ you anythin’, were they?” He ruffles the back of your head playfully. “Yes, darlin’ that was an orgasm, what both of us experienced.”

You crack a small smile at his teasing and brush your fingers along where they’re resting along his back. “People acted like it was… bad to teach about. My parents, people that looked after me, all of them.” You pause, feeling your face warm with the embarrassment of sharing so much “S-sorry I’m so clueless…”

“No, honey, not clueless. You’re learnin’, and I wanna be the one to teach you everythin’. It…” he inhales deeply, and you see that hunger in his eyes when you glance his way. “It excites me.”

“It does?”

“It’s so sexy, takin’ care of you and lettin’ you learn w’me. You like bein’ sexy, don’t you?” Joel teases, bringing a hand to your chin, tilting it just slightly. Your lips look the most inviting they have as they curve into the most delicate smile, one finally full of lust and confidence. 

“I do…” you murmur in response, averting your eyes as you flush yet again. Your body feels warm, bare and pressed against Joel’s naked flesh, his words instantly having an effect on you. 

“An’ you should,” Joel says, leaning forward to press his lips to your neck, smattering kisses down the length of it. “Already got me wrapped around your little finger.”

His lips tickle you as his facial hair brushes along you in his fast movements, and you nearly giggle, holding back at the last moment, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of hearing your laugh just yet. You sigh contentedly and lean back into him, fighting a sudden yawn.

“You all tired out?” Joel asks quietly, lips pressed close to your ear. You shiver at the vibrations of his rich timbre and inadvertently snuggle a little closer as goosebumps creep along your skin. Joel rubs your back in response, pulling you in tighter.

You nod, mumbling out a yes and Joel responds by gently rolling you over onto the bed, laying your head on the pillow. He’s curled up to you in an instant, arm thrown over your chest all the way to your arm on the other side, letting his fingers rub there.

“You get some rest, it’s been a big day, huh?”

“It has…” you mumble in reply, hesitantly resting your hand on his arm that covers your chest. It starts to feel like some semblance of normal, cuddling with Joel. You’d never experienced something like this, this closeness. 

“G’night,” he mumbles into your skin, kissing it one more time before you notice him going more slack, starting to settle into that dazed, half sleepy state. You look over at him, blinking slowly with a deep tiredness, just watching his face in this calm, non-threatening state. He looks handsome like this, a little vulnerable and sweet, someone you could pretend is holding you right now just so you feel taken care of and cared for. You wish you could read him, trace the weathered lines on his face and find out just who he really is, which version of the many different Joel’s he’s shown you he truly is.

You fall asleep trying to figure it out.

Your eyes flutter open, finding the room still dark. You imagine it has only been a few hours since you fell asleep, but you woke with your stomach aching, hunger tearing through you. You realize the only thing you’ve eaten is the bread and cheese Joel fed you, and it makes your stomach growl again.

Joel has mostly rolled off of you, just an errant hand laid across your upper arm as he sleeps, body sprawled out on the bed. You lay as still as can be for a few moments, checking just how deep he’s sleeping before you slip out of bed, on the prowl for a midnight snack. You don’t think Joel would mind, would he? He’d fed you earlier, promised that part of what he’d do to help you here is to share his provisions with you, keep you full. You spot a knit blanket on the back of a wooden chair in the corner of the bedroom and throw it around your shoulders, shivering as you snuggle your naked body underneath it and relish in the warmth.

It’s dark in the kitchen, but you don’t dare flick on the light, happy to scavenge by way of the small glow from the open refrigerator. You end up tearing off some more of the bread, careful to not take too much from Joel’s provisions. Your eyes drift around the room as you chew happily, taking it in now that you’re here alone, gaze free to roam without any questions from Joel. You stop when you land on your backpack, slumped near the door, and your boots, tucked right where you’d left them when you’d arrived. How was that only yesterday? It feels like an entire lifetime has passed since then. Like you’re a different person than when you’d first entered the threshold of that door, shaking and terrified, barely hanging on. Now… you still weren’t sure where you landed, but you were certainly changed.

Your threadbare coat hangs where Joel must have decided to leave it when you’d taken your shower. All of your things calling out to you, screaming red, like a test that he’d left for you. To test your loyalty, to see your obedience. Everything you’d need to disappear from this cabin, all in one little space. Your heart starts to race, your mouth dry as the bread seems to go sour on your tongue. 

You could leave right now, if you wanted. Take your chances. Let fate decide if you’d starve on your own or lead you to a new community - those people in Jackson - who might take care of you. You could learn. You were capable of survival, you knew you were. You could learn to hunt and fish and start fires on your own, to live off the land and not be scared of the hidden horrors of the world. Yes, you could leave right now, escape the uncertainty of Joel’s moods and promises, and learn.

You bite your lip anxiously, eyes in a trance as you stare at your backpack, with it holding the memories of those two weeks on your own where you fought and scraped by and nearly froze to death. You blink and turn your head back towards the fridge. Maybe you aren’t cut out for life on the road. Maybe you’re too soft for it. And maybe some more of that sheep’s cheese doesn’t sound so bad right now.

You open the fridge back up, peering inside to look for that little wrapped package you’d seen Joel pull from earlier. You nearly jump out of your skin when Joel’s voice cuts into the silent room - you’d been too absorbed in your own thoughts to even hear the creak of the old floorboards announcing his movements upstairs.

“The hell’re you doin?” his voice booms out in that controlled, stern tone that makes you want to listen. You whip your head around from where you’re crouched at the fridge, rummaging through it and see Joel stepping off the bottom of the staircase and into the main room. He hasn’t bothered to put anything on, like he was in a rush to see if you were down here, if you’d snuck off in the night. His naked body moves powerfully, muscles on display, and yet all you can focus on is what’s between his legs - his soft cock swinging almost tauntingly as he approaches you with such an angry aura. 

“I - I was hungry… starving. I thought I’d -“ you start, teeth clicking together in a fearful grimace as he cuts you off. 

“Yeah? Sure you’re not tryna run off again? Ransack my fridge and leave?” He’s already questioning you heatedly, reaching where you stand and slamming the fridge shut behind you and pressing you close to the door. 

You scramble in your mind to find the words to make him understand, shrinking in, afraid of what he’s capable of doing to you. “Wh - no, no I was… look at me, I have nothing on, I wouldn’t be running out like this, right?” You gesture down to your body, only draped in the small knit blanket. 

“Poor excuse, darlin’,” he sneers, looking down at you. The moonlight spilling in through the kitchen window casts menacing shadows across his rugged face. He narrows his eyes as he waits for you to further dig yourself out of this hole. 

“I - I swear it, I haven’t eaten much, remember? J-just that bread and cheese, and I woke up hungry.” You plead and see him soften just enough to want to let up a little bit, but his face hardens again at the last second. You realize he’s scared, the hint of it behind his wild eyes showing for just a moment. He’d really run down here thinking he’d find you gone for good and that had scared him, an emotion you wouldn’t have expected from Joel. He has weaknesses and fears after all. 

He steps a little closer and you can feel his cock, now half hard pressing between your legs. You fight the urge to wince, afraid he’s about to press it further.

“Hard to believe w’the way you were runnin’ off earlier. Not desperate to get away from me anymore now that I fucked that little pussy so good w’my fingers? Didn’t jus’ get what you want from me and wanna split?” You can tell he doesn’t even fully believe what he’s saying, he just wants to taunt you, remind you that he’s more powerful, that he holds all of the cards. He grips your cheeks, squishing them together and holding your head steady, inspecting you for another moment, as if he can get the truth out of you just by reading your face. His head leans forward and he holds you in place as he sucks on your neck, pulling your skin between his lips harder and harder. He lets go and keeps himself nuzzled tight to your neck as he speaks.

“Y’don’t do anythin’ like this again without wakin’ me up.” He squeezes your cheeks a little harder before releasing it, keeping his face buried against your neck. “‘S my job to take care of you, remember? Don’t wanna catch you like this again, yeah?”

“Y-yes,” you stutter, breathing a sigh of relief. One that’s short lived when Joel pulls another patch of skin into his mouth, using his teeth this time - you feel the slight nibble as he scrapes his teeth on your soft skin and you whimper quietly when it starts to hurt. 

“J-joel…” you whine, shifting uncomfortably, the heat of his body so close making you squirm and break out in a sweat.

“No,” he cuts you off, wrapping a hand around your arm and another around your waist, holding you in place. “If you’re here,” he says, stopping to flick his tongue along his recent mark, “You’re gonna refer to me as a few special names goin’ forward, okay? Teach you a little respect towards me.”

“I- I respect you,” you blurt out desperately, your eyes wide and searching the room for anything that might help you get out of this. Joel’s hold is absolute, as you’ve learned several times now. You’re suddenly unsure once again, his frightening behavior reminding you just who you’re living with now. You don’t dare to call him a monster, even in your thoughts, because that would be admitting what you’ve been desperately avoiding. You’re attracted to a monster, inexplicably fixated by him, lured in with his sweet offerings and chance at a new life. Worst of all, you’ve already given yourself over to him, let him drag you further into his clutches.

“You’ve been s-so kind and helpful, you fed me, everything…” you add on in a soft lilt, hoping he takes mercy on you.

He stays silent for a moment, his lips hovering above your skin, only his hot breath fanning across it. “Then show it,” he says in a deep rumble. “You’re gonna call me daddy, sweetheart. ‘Cause I’m here to take care of you. And a good girl always listens to her daddy, doesn’t she?”

He sucks again. Harder this time, the burn and sting shooting out from where he abuses your delicate skin. 

“She does…” you choke out.

“That’s right. I’m gonna be your everything, sweetheart. Your daddy, your sir, your master. And when you address me, you’ll address me as such, yeah? Show that you’re mine… show me respect.”

“M-mhm…” you whimper, swallowing with your lips pressed tightly together, the pain of him sucking on your neck after each little speech becoming more and more unbearable. It hurts, but something about the way he’s speaking, the concept of his domination over you, the way you can tell it comes from some completely twisted place of care, sends a warm skittering down your spine. Maybe you’re just as sick as he is if any part of you enjoys this, even the small, deeply hidden bit that seems to be growing with each encounter you have with Joel.

“And when I’m done w’you here tonight,” he murmurs, bringing up a hand to trace his fingers gently along your quickly bruising skin, “You won’t be able to see yourself in the mirror without knowin’ who you belong to. Show everyone who dares lay eyes on my girl that I’ve got you, that I’m the one keepin’ you safe and fed and fucked.”

“Yes… you are…” you whimper out complicitly into a soft cry when he bites your neck again, his hot mouth attaching like his life depends on it. 

“So you’re gonna be a good girl, yeah? Behave and listen to daddy’s rules?” He speaks breathlessly, his cock fully hard as he feels the power coursing through his veins, the evidence of it pressing firmly against your thighs. He feels you nod against where he rests his lips, but it’s not enough. 

“Say it, princess. Say ‘I’m a good girl, and I’ll behave and listen to daddy’s rules.’”

You gasp as his teeth sink into your flesh, as hard as they’ve gone yet, feeling nearly like they may have drawn blood. “I- I-“ you breathe out, clutching at his arm, digging your nails in. It only spurs him on, his lips dragging back just to suck the spot relentlessly. It brings tears to your eyes immediately, your mind only focused on the pain now. 

“Say. It.” Joel’s voice cuts through and your eyes flash open after a few tears roll down your cheeks. 

“I’m a good girl…” you whimper, voice cutting out into another cry as he assaults another spot on your neck.

“And?”

“I’m a good girl a-and I’ll behave and l-listen to daddy’s rules…” Your breath whooshes out as he stops, relief flooding your body when he places a light kiss on one of the sore, bruised spots. A few tears roll down your cheeks, spilling over from the plethora of them along your lower lids.

“Mmm, good girl,” he says more gently, pulling back to look over your face. He frowns, and it nearly startles you to see him have a look that isn’t that one of sick satisfaction that he’s worn so often. 

“When you’re daddy’s girl, you’re gonna be so well taken care of, I promise ya. I know you’re scared, and it ain’t easy when I’m bein’ so firm w’you. Just want you to understand…” he pauses, dragging a finger along your cheek, swiping a tear and glancing down at it glistening on his finger. His body is still close, pressed right against yours. 

“That I’m doin’ it for your own good. So you know I mean it all. I won’t hurt ya unless you disobey me, yeah? If you’re not a good girl, you’re gonna have some punishments. Do you understand?”

You nod hesitantly, your brows furrowed and trying to process all of the information he’s throwing at you. 

“Y’need some sleep, look at you,” he says with a shake of his head, taking in your disheveled state, swaying where you stand as a few more tears roll down your cheeks. He feels a pang spearing his heart at your weary, dejected stance, body trembling openly at his proximity. He knows he did this to you, made you this broken little bird he could grasp in his hands and crush with his words alone, but he did it for your own good. He tells himself this sentence for what feels like the millionth time, absolving his guilt in a single second. You need him, deserve the unrelenting care he’ll pour out once you fully give yourself over to him. Anytime now… with your cracks showing more and more, your desperation to please him not as well hidden as you might think.

 “You’ll feel better in the mornin’, hm?” Joel says when you don’t answer him.

You shrug slightly, keeping your shoulders rolled up, feeling defensive as Joel rests his fingers on your arm more gently now. “We’ll talk more then,” he says decidedly, making the decision for the both of you as he sidles up next to you and puts an arm around you, his hand resting on the small of your back.

You begin to walk nearly catatonically back towards the stairs with Joel’s guidance. His hands slide to your hips and squeeze as you move up the stairs in a daze, exhaustion overtaking you. You swear you’re tired down to your very cells, every piece of your being sapped and scraped thin right now. 

“Thank you,” you murmur in a whisper when Joel helps you shrug the blanket off of your shoulders, laying it tidily back on the chair where you’d found it. 

“You’re welcome,” he responds, kissing the top of your head. You’re moved to the bed, body soft and yielding for him to place you where he wishes, finding you a place wrapped right in his arms just as you were earlier.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he whispers, lips flitting against your hair and cheek when he senses your tension. “Jus’ be good, don’t do that again, okay? Don’t wanna have to chain you to the bed while we sleep, would we?”

Your mouth sags open, chest pulling tight at his threat, the way it had rolled off his tongue like it was nothing, no humor or jesting behind it. When he’d said the word punishment he’d meant it in the most serious sense. Things like chaining you up, biting your neck until it was bruised, bleeding, and throbbing, and the likely long list of things he had lined up that you couldn’t even envision if you tried.

“N-no, you’ll never need to do that, I w-won’t…” you reply after composing yourself for a brief moment.

“Never say never,” Joel whispers with a conceited smirk. “You may find yourself askin’ me to do it someday, princess. Beggin’ me…”

You let out a breathy scoff of a laugh, mostly out of discomfort, but Joel hardly notices, busy tucking you into the crook of his neck as he puts an arm behind your head.

“You’ll see someday, babygirl, you’ll see… now let’s get some sleep.”

You stare into the dark of the room, head rising and falling with the movements of Joel’s chest while he falls back asleep. You hate that he smells good right now, that the hair of his chest feels so gorgeous and manly under your fingertips. You hate that you feel comfortable right now, safe, despite everything he’s done to you. You hate everything about all of it, but you don’t hate… him. It makes you sick, your stomach turning as you fight the urge to cry yet again. 

You start to think back to your backpack and boots, waiting for you by the door. Their enticing siren call is louder than ever, beckoning you away from here. 

You could learn to survive out there. You know you could. 

You peek up at Joel’s face again, willing yourself to read him, the same thoughts swirling through your head from earlier tonight. You slowly reach your hand up and touch the lines on his face with your fingertips - around his eyes, his forehead, his cheeks. Ever so gently you move along his face, and Joel’s mouth twitches as he sleeps, morphing into a soft smile. 

There he is. That is Joel. That has to be him. That soft smile, a sweet man who wants to care about you. That wants a companion, someone to spend his life with, not someone to hurt. 

You sigh and close your eyes, dropping your hand and shifting your body to mold even closer to his, finding comfort in his large, imposing form rather than fear right now.

Yes, you think as your eyes flutter and you drift off, you could learn. Maybe it would just be an entirely different set of lessons.

[cloudywriting05]

i follow rivers — coriolanus snow

→ coriolanus x femreader

→ word count: 4659 (lorrrrrd)

→ 18+ content, smut, spitting, slapping, choking etc. SLOW burn.

→ summary: you and coryo have been fuck-buddies for as long as you can remember. he gets jealous easily, but doesn't wanna claim you. you put your foot down and he doesn't take it lightly.

ps: suggestions are WELCOME y’all! I want prompts so I can make more of stuff like this, non smut too! suggest suggest suggest <3

You sat beside Arachne in silence. The sound of Highbottom pacing around the floor, rambling about the greatness of the human body was tiring you more than anything. Your eyes trailed around the room, glancing at everyone, all of which seemed disinterested. You tried your best not to look at him, but his glistening blonde hair roped you in. You stared at Coriolanus, all the time. He never seemed to notice. You've been examining his features for as long as you can remember, admiring him from a distance. 

Late last year, Coriolanus asked you if he could come over for help with statistics, and you innocently agreed. You ended up getting fucked in your bathroom and squirting all over your floor, which was not how you expected that to go at all. Ever since then, you'd been casually meeting up to fuck whenever the other felt like it. After the third or fifth time, you established rules with him, you could NOT develop feelings for each other but also to view one another as an outlet and source for something good. And so, you did. All throughout break you were constantly getting your cunt devoured and fucked by Coriolanus. The minute your parents left; he was over, knee-deep inside of you. 

It sucked because, beyond all his coldness at the Academy, he was truly a sweet person. You hated that. You knew somewhere deep inside of you that if Coryo asked you to be his girlfriend, you would justifiably jump at the chance. You hated that so much, you loved him in your own way. You had been so deep in your thoughts you hadn't realised that Coryo was looking right at you, startling you slightly. Coriolanus who sat in the second row, arms crossed, smiled at your reaction; knowing he'd startled you. You rolled your eyes. Arachne glanced at you, then down at Coryo, and scoffed in disgust.

No one knew you and Coryo were having sex almost every day. No one. You made an effort to be cold and keep your distance from Coryo at the Academy. This killed you but, you knew it was for both of your benefits. You hated when the other girls spoke about him or giggled about his body. You wanted to rip their throats out but all you could do was downplay him, every time. Coriolanus on the other hand hated your cold shoulder, it drove him insane. One day you were begging him to stop teasing you with the tip of his cock, and the next you acted like he didn’t exist. In his eyes, you were treating him like a walking dildo, and he hated it more than anything.

The class was concluded, and everyone was dismissed. You rushed to stuff your books in your bag and dropped your neuroscience textbook. "Need a hand?"

Your head snapped to see who had appeared behind you without any warning, it was Sejanus. Your heart slowed, instantly calming down. Sejanus was a sweetheart and a friend of both you and Coryo. He truly did nothing wrong and could do nothing wrong. He was the most compassionate person you knew, and you loved it about him. He was the only person who shared the same views as you on the Hunger Games. He swiped your book off the floor and handed it to you.

"Thanks, Sejanus," you said shoving the book into your bag, "how long were standing there, weirdo?"

"The whole time."

You playfully groaned and threw your head back in disgust, causing him to burst out laughing. "That's fucking weird, Sejanus."

Sejanus made you laugh so much; it was your favourite thing about him. You both left the lecture hall laughing hysterically, not aware of Coriolanus watching. Glaring at your hand run down Sejanus's arm, as your free hand rubbed your ribs laughing. He felt his jaw clench, he truly thought at that moment, that there was nothing more revolting and disrespectful than what he had just seen. You laughed with Sejanus... but not him? 

No, that’s not fair. That’s not fair at all, he thought. What did Sejanus have that he didn’t? He was tall, handsome, and smart, and he never left your house without making sure you had come not once, but multiple times. He was basically everything you needed in your life, and he hated how you didn’t see that. Why didn’t you see that? He knew he was the only man fit for you, to protect you. 

So why were you laughing with Sejanus and not him? Why did you treat him like a stranger but Sejanus like your best-friend? It didn’t make any sense, and it drove him insane. He stared at the back of Sejanus’s head, the idiot believed they were friends, but often Coriolanus wishes he could shoot him in the head. Times like this he was truly capable of doing so if he had the chance. Coriolanus took a moment to calm himself, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to be either. He liked his freedom a bit too much. He could speak to the girls and not have you say anything about it. God, he knew it was unfair on you when he would purposely make the guys who spoke about you back off, or even just get bitter. He observed and took his jealousy out on you when you were both alone, you didn’t know about it though. 

“Your name literally has anus in it, Sej! Do not talk about my name-” you wheezed, playfully pushing Sejanus’s right shoulder. 

Coriolanus took this as a sign to approach the both of you, slowly making his way towards you. 

You leant against your lockers, facing each other, gasping for air. “Don’t start that anus crap with me, okay? You know who also has anus in their name? Coriolanus.”

“That’s a tired joke.” Coriolanus chimed in, causing both of your laughter’s to halt immediately. You didn’t realise he’d snuck up on you, nor that he cared about his name having anus in it, until this very moment at least.

Sejanus cleared his throat softly and glanced at you for a moment, clearly startled and uncomfortable by Coriolanus’s presence, “I was just heading off, see you later, alright?”

He stalked off, not looking back. You watched him leave the building, leaving just you and Coriolanus in the empty hallway. “What the hell are you doing?” you hissed. 

“You know I always thought you were shy, and that was why you never spoke to me at Academy, but you’re actually the opposite,” he said with an almost blank expression, “you clearly have a lot to say; especially to Sejanus.”

“Sejanus is my friend.”

He let out a laugh, “And what am I? One night we’re fucking and laughing together, and the next day you’re treating me like I mean nothing. Look, I care about you.”

“Why? We agreed that there would be NO feelings involved. Do you know how bad it would be if anyone found out we had whatever we had going on,” you asked, trying your best to bring him down to earth.

“Why do you care so much about everyone else’s opinion? Actually, you don’t. You care Sejanus’s which is why he’s the only person you fucking speak to,” his expression dropped within a second. “Do you... like.. Sejanus?”

You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, “Coriolanus, no. I do not like Sejanus, I didn’t know that fucking you had terms and conditions about who I spoke to.”

“Well, it does. I hate watching you speak to other guys, while ignoring me; it drives me fucking insane. Do you know how much restraint it takes to not pick up a table and throw it at Sejanus every fucking time he goes near you?” he hissed. “You think I don’t notice whenever any of the other guy’s stare at you? When they try and talk to you or say you’re the hottest girl they’ve seen here when they’re in their groups and you’re not around? You know how much it kills me? My only relief is that I get to have you right after.” 

He lowered his upper body to level with you, his face inches from yours, you felt your heart speed up slightly. “I feel the same way whenever the other girls call you hot or talk about wanting to fuck you, but I don’t act like a fucking kid about it. Man up. You’re not my boyfriend.”

His eyes glared into your soul, you felt like he could read every thought, and it scared you; he scared you. “You made up the terms. I just said yes because I wanted to be around you. I want you.”

“What do you want out of this, Coriolanus? Tell me now so I can go home, you fucking psycho.”

“I want you.”

“No, you don’t. You want my attention, and you hate the fact you can’t fully have me. Have Clemensia instead, I’m sure she’ll like you.” 

“You’re still on about that?”

“You kissed her, Coriolanus.”

He scoffed in annoyance, the last party he had gotten too drunk and kissed Clemensia. He was a wreck for most of the party because you refused to go near him and stuck with Sejanus and the others, but he gave you different reasoning, obviously, “I was drunk.”

“Listen. I’m not up for being told what to do, alright? You get to speak to whoever and if I have a chat with Sejanus, you have a massive fit. I don’t want to do this anymore.”

His angry expression had faded by now, he peered down at you, almost in disbelief, “Are you being serious?”

You stared at him for a brief moment, he was so beautiful. You could kiss him right now, but you had to hold back. You knew that this was going to be the last time you spoke to him, that all your nights of staying up, talking, and fucking were now over. He knew it too. You tilted your head slightly, “I don’t think we’re mature enough for it, Coryo. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t want me anymore?” he asked, sounding like a child who was just told no. 

You wanted him and that was the problem, he didn’t want to make it an official relationship and he didn’t have to tell you he didn’t. You knew. You could just tell, and it always was obvious. He enjoyed his freedom while also having you to fuck, like every other boy would. You had to put your foot down. 

“I’m sorry,” you raised yourself onto your tiptoes and planted a kiss on his lips, “goodbye, Coriolanus.”

You walked away that day and didn’t look back. After that, days became bleak for Coriolanus. He watched you become livelier in class, putting your hand up for certain things and speaking to others you didn’t know before. He wondered if this was a plan to get back at him for everything, whatever you were doing was working too well. He could not get you off his mind. He already was drowning in thoughts of you before, but not like right now, this was worse. Before he still had you and was able to see you and be with you, now your distance has become further, and you won’t look at him for more than a split second. Did he not matter to you anymore? Just like that?

You both sat in Literature, listening to your professor talk about love. He glared at you from the row behind you, his eyes practically burning through your skull. You knew he was looking; he’s been staring at you for the past two weeks ever since you cut it off. You refused to give him attention.

“Now, who has an idea of what love truly means.” Professor Click spoke, scanning the classroom for someone to answer. Your hand shot up. “Would you like to stand and answer?”

You nodded your head and arose from your seat, “Love can be many things. It can be beautiful, endearing and is so strong that it can act as motivation to live your life. But it can be one sided, ugly, scary, and cruel.”

“How do you differentiate between attraction and love?” Professor asked.

“You can be in love with someone, and they cannot return those feelings and still bed you just because they find you attractive. That’s an example of attraction versus love, and poor taste in a romantic partner.” you fought the smirk that was going to appear on your face any second now, you described your situation with Coryo on purpose; knowing he would be scorching.

“Perfect examples indeed. Thank you, you may sit.”

You sat down and crossed your legs. Arachne looked at you puzzled before speaking, “That sounded aimed as fuck.”

“It wasn’t.” you clarified before going silent. Coriolanus sat behind you, seething in his seat. Were you mocking him? He didn’t know but he was angry. He felt attacked regardless. He spent the rest of the last class glaring at you while you spoke and chimed in.

-

You sat on your bed, completely checked out while watching television. Your shorts were far up your ass, and you kept putting off tugging them out to watch the news instead. A sudden bang at your door sent you jumping, you held your chest gasping. You shot up from the couch and scurried to the front door, you peered through the hole and felt a wave of confusion rush over you. Why on God’s name is Coriolanus Snow standing at your front door at this hour of the night. The navy shirt he wore tugging at his chest, his muscles practically seeping through, his grey comfort pants hanging loosely on his legs drove you a little bit crazy. He looked good and you scolded yourself for thinking of him like that. 

“Open up. I know your home.” he said, but you were scared.

“I am home, what the fuck do you want?” you said still peering through the hole, you watched him throw his head back and groan.

“I just want to talk to you.” he stated.

“Funny the last time you said you wanted to do that; we didn’t talk much.” 

“No. I want to talk to you, please?”

You lifted your head from the hole and rested your forehead against the door, you closed your eyes for a moment and thought to yourself- what the hell are you doing? “Fucking psycho,” you breathed. 

You swiftly unlocked the door and swung it open. “Come inside,” he strutted right by you, practically glowing.

You locked the door and turned to face Coriolanus who was sitting on your couch. “Why are you fucking with me?”

“What the hell are you talking about, Coriolanus?” 

“Whatever stunt you pulled at Lit was fucking great, you had a poor taste in a romantic partner, huh?” he scoffed, “Like I didn’t have your legs shaking every time I fucked you?”

“Yeah, I do have poor taste. I chose a guy who I fell in love with too fast and let him walk all over me. I’m never going to do that ever again, not with my next one.” 

“You’re in love with me?”

You groaned as ran your hands over your face, “Is that a serious question? Of course, I was! I had to break it off because I loved you. The truth is you never liked me as much as I liked you.”

Coriolanus stunned, lifted himself from the couch, and inched towards you. “Are you kidding me? I was over the moon on the nights I got to see you, and the nights I couldn’t, I wasn’t able to sleep. You are all I think about day in and day out. And I hate you for it. I’m going to be married and still think of you, and I hate you for that as well.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” you said timidly, slightly embarrassed for underestimating his feelings.

“How could you? You never fucking spoke to me… Oh- but you spoke to Sejanus, fucking Sejanus. Touches and hugs you like your his and not mine.”

“Am I yours?” you dared to ask, times like these weren’t new but for some reason, you felt a rush of adrenaline. 

A rush almost the identical to when he had first fucked you in your upstairs bathroom, you concluded it was because your body must’ve missed him.

“Another stupid question, of course you are?”

“Show me I am then.”

Within an instant, Coriolanus had already was gripping your sides, pulling you into him with one tug. His left hand traced up the side of your body and stopped at your cheek. Caressing your cheek softly, he admired you, “You get prettier every day, makes sense why everyone wants you.”

You felt your cunt pulsate, hungry for his touch, ANY sort of touch from Coriolanus. He leant in to kiss you, the contact between your open mouths was more satisfying than you could imagine. His tongue swirled and pressed against yours, tasting you as much as he could; his way of making up for the past weeks that he wasn’t able to. His left hand dropped from your cheek and onto your breast, he cupped it for a moment before shoving it up your t-shirt. His fingertips grazing over your bare boob before cupping it once again, this made you moan a little in his mouth, making him even harder than he already was. 

He couldn’t help but massage your boob in a rhythmic motion, only stopping to squeeze your nipple. You loved it when he did that, and how he could still kiss you while doing so. “Get on the couch, now.”

You obeyed, scurrying to the couch and sitting on it, eager to hear what he wanted to do. He stood in front of you, his abdomen in your face. You looked up at him, starry eyed, wondering what he was going to say, “You’re going to sit on my face, and not complain about it, okay?”

You hesitated, a bit stunned. You had done a lot with Coryo before, but sitting on his face? You were slightly scared of the idea of putting your weight on him, what if he got hurt? “Coryo, are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m fucking sure,” he tugged at his shirt, throwing it on the floor near us. His pants were the next victims, leaving him in his red boxers. He plopped himself onto the couch beside you and laid on his back, “come here. What’re you waiting for?” 

He motioned for you to come to him, hesitantly you did. You were now on of him. He tugged at the bottom of your shirt, signalling for you to strip. You pulled the shirt over your head, Coriolanus relishing at the sight. You leaned to your left to get your shorts and panties off, and once you had thrown them behind the couch you swiftly fixed your position on top of Coryo. He stared at you for a moment before speaking, “I’ll never get tired of watching you take your clothes off for me, doll. Never.”

You smiled and began inching towards him. Your lips met and the kissing began once again, your tongues dancing against each other. He shifted your body up by your waist, positioning your chest in his face. Coryo, who was having his face caressed by your boobs, was having the absolute time of his life. You peered down at him, staring at your boobs in awe. His mouth latched onto your nipple, his tongue instantly sucking and flicking. You let out a soft groan that could send him into even more of a frenzy. He flattened his tongue and let your nipple glide up and down against it. His attention turned to your other boob, lapping and kissing your nipple. Once done he grabbed of your breasts with his hands and flattened his tongue once again, making them glide against it. Your pussy was aching— hard. 

His hands found themselves at your ass, pushing you up. You knew what was going to happen next. You shuffled up, hovering your cunt above Coryo’s face. Coryo thriving with your glistening cunt centimetres from his face, eagerly slapped your ass. “Sit down, doll, you can do it.”

“Coryo, I’m scared I’m going to hurt you–”

“You’re not going to hurt anyone, now sit, put your full body weight on my face and don’t mind me at all, okay?” he said, assuring you. 

With that you lowered your cunt onto mouth, his nose now pressed against your pubic area. He didn’t dare to waste a second and let his tongue roam your pussy, wanting to show you that this would be more fun for you than for him. Your back arched, an instant reaction to his warm tongue against your cunt. You felt his tongue start to suck your clit, causing you to moan louder than you wish you had.

“Fuck, Coryo– your tongue feels so good-” you breathed. 

Your grinding intensified, as did Coryo’s tongue work. He flicked and sucked every inch of your pussy. You felt a soft tap on your leg, you pulled yourself up immediately, staring down at him to see if he was okay. 

“Are you good?” 

“I’m good, doll. Stay still for me,” without warning, he stuck his middle and index finger right into your dripping pussy. Thrusting his fingers in and out as fast as he could, purposefully not touching that spot that would make you come. His tongue flicked against your clit wildly, you could feel yourself on the brink of coming, begging he’d keep going. Your cries echoing throughout the floor of your home. His fingers curled, touching the soft you prayed he would. You felt a wave of pleasure engulf of you, making you lose control of your shaking legs. Coriolanus felt your thigh tightened around him as he looked up at you, a moaning mess above him. Your head thrown back in bliss. He could come at the sight of you like this.

“Please, Coryo, keep going, I’m gonna fucking squirt on you, I swear–” you sobbed. This was Coriolanus’s signal to use his palm to vigorously rub your clit while his other digits remained pumping inside of you, making you let out an almost animalistic shriek. Your fluid spurted against his face, making him beam uncontrollably. Your knees buckled as the wave disappeared, you fought every urge to collapse on him then and there. Not until you felt him inside of you. 

“Could Sejanus ever make you cum like that? Huh?” he ridiculed from beneath you, you shook your head slowly in response. He thought you were dumb to even think so. “Look what you did. I’m hard, fix it.”

You turned to see his erect penis underneath his boxers, you wasted no time shuffling down and freeing it from its restraint. It sprang in your face and brushed against your chin for split second; oh, how you missed his dick. Grabbing all eight inches of it and you spat on it, stroking it with your spit as the lubricant. Coriolanus choked back his moans, only letting out tiny whimpers. He loved it when you sucked his dick, it was almost like a reward to him. You were indisputably the best at it, and he knew no one would ever do it better than you. 

“I wanna sit on it already, Coryo,” you admitted, causing his head to shoot up.

“You’re a greedy, little freak. If you wanna sit on it, be my fucking guest, eager little slut,” he hummed before letting his head fall against the couch. 

You straddled him immediately and positioned him right at your entrance. Before sitting on his cock, you took a second to use his tip to glide up and down your folds. Coriolanus noticed this and let out a low laugh, “you’re such a slut, using my dick to rub yourself off. My very own whore.”

He raised his hips, motioning for you to put it in already. You put his cock back into place and slowly slid down. His cock stretching you out as you got closer to his base until you could sit. You felt all eight inches of him inside of you, every bit. You whined to yourself, Coriolanus watching you in awe still fighting back the groans. You lifted yourself up, then down, and quickly picked up a rhythm. Your ass bashed against his pelvis with every motion, causing his moans to escape his lips. His dick hitting your spot without fail. “You are such a fucking slut, say it.”

“I’m such a slut for you, Coriolanus,” you bellowed.

Coriolanus abruptly pushed you onto your back, turning you around with one hand. You got on your knees and hands, knowing what he was going to next. Heaving, he shoved his dick back into you. Missing your pussy already. He gripped onto your hips and thrusted rhythmically, steady but hard. He landed a hard slap against your ass, causing you to holler out. “Sejanus could never fuck you like I can, you dumb girl. No one at Academy can. Your pussy was made for me, look at how good it fits.”

He watched you back yourself onto his dick, your ass red from the skin to skin as you bounced on him, almost hypnotising him. He clutched a lump of your hair and tugged you head back; you kept bouncing on his dick, too horny to stop. 

“Open your mouth for me, now,” you followed, letting his spit land onto your tongue which you drank without hesitation, “that’s what happens when you use your mouth to try and hurt me, okay princess?”

“Yes, Coryo, just fuck me, please?” you pleaded, the sound of the skin of your ass smacking against his pelvis engulfing the room. His dick deep inside of you, where it should be always. 

He took deep and slow strokes making you groan into the couch. His hand gripped around your neck and tightened, restraining you from breathing a little, just how you like it. Here he was, knee-deep in you again, on the brink of coming inside of you. You felt another orgasm coming and just the thought of coming on his dick gave you a burst of adrenalin, you backed yourself onto his dick uncontrollably; Coriolanus could almost swear he felt his head get lighter in that moment. You felt yourself reaching that point, “Fuck! Coryo, I’m gonna come again.”

“Of course, you are, slut.” He selfishly slapped your ass as hard as he could, knowing he too was about to finish.

You felt that feeling wash over you again, you cried out as you felt your legs tremble vigorously again. Coriolanus watched from behind you as you squirmed.

“Turn around and open your mouth,” you turned around and positioned your open mouth in front of his cock. You stroked it as fast as you could, and within an instant Coriolanus let his warm load splatter across your face, chest and into your mouth. Licking your lips, you threw yourself onto the space behind you, Coriolanus onto the space beside you.

For a moment it was silent, you turned to looked at him, he was staring at you already. He caressed your hair and planted a kiss onto your lips, lovingly almost.

“So, do you want me?” he queried, playfully.

“Coriolanus Snow, I do not date stalkers but, be mine?” you asked mockingly, causing you to both laugh. His laugh quieted.

“Only if you acknowledge me at academy,” he said.

“I guess I can do that if you stop stalking me,” you sighed teasingly.

“I would follow you into the deep sea if it meant I could be with you," he said. "Ah, Snow always lands on top,” he hummed.

“Literally though, look at my chest,” you laughed, motioning towards the cum all over your chest.

“Oh, that’s not what I meant–” 

FIN

[banquetwriter]

can u write a smut of an insecure plus sized goth reader x johnnie please? she's a virgin and after being together for a few months she asks him could they do it, and he eats her out n fucks her n stuff 🙏🙏 make it really soft pls and thank u i love ur work btw 🖤🖤

୨୧ Batty love ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ goth!fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ smut, losing virginity, getting eaten out, general shenanigans

summary: ʚ johnnie isn’t gonna let you being inexperienced stop him from devouring you ɞ

Words: 2234

An: i know this isn't the best but I'm legitimately do sick rn 😞

SUPPORT ME

You haven't stopped looking at your phone for at least two days. Johnnie, your boyfriend, had just hard-launched your relationship for the first time on Instagram. And to your shock, 95% of the comments were so positive. Everyone complimented your goth appearance.

This much praise was addicting. Being plus size meant a lot of insecurities made by the pathetic losers of society. There were of course a few nice comments… those weren't the ones you kept staring at. Criticizing your looks or body.

Johnnie had warned you about this happening, and you promised him the world knowing about you two was worth it, and it was, but god did it hurt. Johnnie Was out streaming with Jake today so that left you alone for a good few hours.

It was useless trying to wait around crying over some loser online who couldn't handle the fact their celebrity crush didn't pick them. You sat up rubbing your face carefully not trying to hit your piercings at all. You scrolled around on your phone’s playlist before connecting to a speaker.

You started to shift through your closet to come up with an outfit. Maybe you and Johnnie could go out tonight? It was hard to get dressed in full goth normally, especially when you weren't feeling good about yourself.

You settled on a long black skirt with silver shiny bats that were sporadically speckled on it and paired it with an ‘i ❤️ emo boys’ t-shirt with a corset. You put your outfit on by pairing your black stockings and fishnet top for your arms.

You sat down at your desk singing along to your beloved playlist. You turned your light on your mirror searching for your hair clips. You managed to locate them by clipping your hair out of your face. Your music was briefly interrupted by a text notification.

You pick up your phone and it is from Johnnie, ‘should be done soon. Just filmed for Jake's, we're gonna do mine now. Probably just dick around Walmart or something. See you soon love 🖤’ you smiled at his text.

You responded back within seconds ‘Have fun filming (but not too much fun without me lol) 🖤🖤’

You sat your phone down, adjusting your shirt, and you started on your makeup. You put on primer, then foundation, the concealer, and to finish your base off you pack on some powder letting it sit on your face. You pulled out your phone and snapped a selfie of your half-done make-up.

You stuck your tongue off a little for the picture. You posted it on your main Instagram story with a goth song of course. Your Instagram gained quite a few followers from Johnnie’s post. It was exciting and also very scary.

You decided the powder baking on your face was about done so you brushed it off. You grabbed your contour brush and packed some onto it. You started to carve your face onto the white base using the black powder.

Now it was time for your eye makeup. It was the hardest part. You spent a good while meticulously adding your eyeliner and eyeshadow. Once you were done, sufficiently looking like a bat, you finished it off with black lipstick and some setting spray.

You put on accessories and teased your hair to high heaven. And you were all ready. You sprayed some perfume on and looked in the mirror. Fuck did you look good. You posed a little admiring yourself, you took your phone out again and decided to take a few pictures.

This time you posted them as posts and not a story so anyone could say anything. It scared you but you couldn't hide forever. You were dating Johnnie and no one could change that.

It took only a few minutes before the comments came rolling in. All of which were positive, it made your heart soar with all the compliments. You were smiling until you read one: ‘Johnnie eating good tonight’ . It was a nice comment and funny naturally.

There was just one issue. You and Johnnie haven't had sex yet, and furthermore, you have never had sex. Ever. Sure you used a few toys here and there but never has another person shared such an intimate moment with you. You had already worried yourself sick about this. Johnnie Was sexually active and therefore, inevitably he would want to have sex with you.

You were ready… you think at least. You wanted to, of course you did, have you seen your boyfriend? He was such a fucking hottie. You had plenty of dreams of ripping his clothes off and going under the covers. You were just nervous.

You did actually weigh a lot more than your boyfriend and no offense to him he wasn't exactly built to handle all you could offer. The nerves rattled through your body. But you were a full-grown woman and there wasn't anything wrong with taking your time to have sex.

If Johnnie didn't understand that (which you're sure he would) then this wasn't the relationship for you. You shook your thoughts of breaking up with Johnnie away. This wasn't a time to worry.

It was only a few more minutes before Johnnie came home. He stepped into your apartment, and he stopped when looking at you. His jaw faltered open. “Wow, how are you mine?” he asked, closing the door, his hands wrapping around your waist.

“From your strapping good looks and charm of course.” you purred, moving a strand of his hair from his face. You planted a small kiss on his now-exposed skin. “Yeah sure,” he murmured against your hair, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.

You smiled at him, your eyes holding each other. His eyes seem to almost darken looking at you. You pull him into a kiss, one he gladly returns. His hands are holding onto your corseted waist. Even through the thick fabric, you can feel him clutching your body.

Your kisses got more heated as he started to move his hands down your body. You had done this with him before. It didn't scare you much anymore. Of course it was nerve-racking, but not scary. His touch felt so nice even if it was through your clothes.

He slowly moaned into your mouth as you gently tugged his hair. “Fuck,” he muttered slowly pulling away from you. He wrapped his hands into your pulling you towards your couch. Your nerves jumped into your throat knowing what was coming.

And yes you wanted to so fucking bad, you needed your hot boyfriend inside you. He gently pushed you onto the couch, you fell back ruining your cute decorative pillows. He positions himself between your legs, his mouth hungry to devour all of you.

You wanted to enjoy him you really did but your heart was pounding out of your chest with nerves. “Johnnie-” you asked quietly against his lips. He pulled back sensing your worry. “We haven't done anything yet-” you started, unsure how to keep going you stayed silent.

“It's fine if you don't wanna, you know, tonight.” he spoke softly, “No trust me I want to. It's just that I've never done that before. I've never had sex before.” you confessed. You could see his eyes widen. You felt like you were holding his breath.

“Woah, really?” he asked, leaning towards you, a small cheeky smile plastered on his lips. “Yeah, not that I’m waiting for marriage or something but I don't know I just haven't yet,” you said shrugging. “That's ok, are you still down to or?” he asks, staring at you sheepishly.

“Of course I am, I just need you to be slow I guess,” you whispered to him. He glances at your lips for a minute, “I can do that.” he says before your lips crash onto one another.

His hand crept down to your ankle and slowly started to run his hand up your legs, he reached the end of your stocking. He hooked his fingers over the clothing and pulled them off your body repeating it for your other leg.

He looked into your eyes as he slipped his hands back under your skirt, hooking delicate fingers over your panties and slowly pulling them off your body. The feeling of his hands on your thighs was sending waves of pleasure to your core.

You've been horny before but nothing compared to the feelings you felt as your boyfriend slowly lowered to his knees. Kissing up and down your legs. “Are you doing ok?” he asks between kisses up your thighs.

“Y-yeah I'm good,” you said quietly, eyes watching Johnnie like a hawk. He smirks against your skin. He slowly pushes your skirt up your body revealing your bare legs. He placed a tender kiss on the top of your cunt.

You swore you could see stars with the amount of pleasure That coursed through you. The end of your fingers and toes felt tingly and cold. Johnnie moved up to face again, he slowly started to kiss you again. “M’gonna move my hand now. Like my fingers ok?” he said against your lips.

“Ok,” you whispered back, and you spread your legs widely for him. He slowly dipped his finger into your sopping cunt. You let out a gasp at the sensation. He slowly pumped his finger in and out of you. It felt good but it wasn't enough for you.

As if Johnnie could read your mind, he pumped out of you once again. When he entered back in he had two fingers this time. It stung for a second or two then pleasure returned to your body as he started to curve his finger into you.

“Oh fuck.” you moaned out, you can guess how people get addicted to this feeling. You felt like a little pervy teenager with raging hormones. The feeling of Johnnie hitting your G-spot repeatedly was sending you over the edge.

“Johnnie.” you mewled out, to nothing in particular. “I need more please,” you begged, having a sense of missing something. “If you insist on it my love.” he pulled out of you, his fingers dripping wet. You watched as he crouched down further.

He kissed slowly on your thighs before reaching your clit. He pressed a soft kiss right on your spot. You felt yourself clench over nothing and it drove you wild. He continued kissing down until he reached your hole. He slowly prodded his tongue into you.

Very gently at first to help you get used to the feeling. You felt the pleasure tenfold as soon as he began to rub your clit, fully pumping his tongue in and out of you. “Oh fuck hold on,” you murmured to him.

He stopped cocking his head slightly. You quickly snap off your corset, immediately releasing tension in your gut. You quickly pulled your shirt off, your bra going with it.

You were now naked minus the skirt bunched up around your waist. “M’fuck.” he whispered looking at your tits. He had what looked like a painful erection at this point. His skinny jeans looked like they were gonna burst open.

“You ready?” you asked him, gesturing to his painfully hard erection. “Fuck yeah,” he whined undoing his studded belt, he started to further undress himself. You followed suit pushing your skirt down.

Once he was completely naked, he leaned down and started to kiss you again. He wrapped his hand around his cock and pumped a few times attempting to get ready for your body. After about a minute he lined up his leaking cock to your entrance.

He slowly pushed into you. You let out a wanton gasp as he bottomed out. “Fuck.” he growled into your ear. He fumbled around trying to find your hand and brought it down to your clit. You started to rub to your pleasure.

At the same time, he started to push into you slowly at first then after a minute he began to push into you at a quicker pace. “Fuck your so tight. So glad I get this pussy all to myself,” he whined into your ear. You couldn't hold yourself anymore. The coil in your stomach was going to snap.

You felt The familiar feeling bubbling in your stomach and your limbs. “Im gonna fucking cum.” you whined out, grabbing at his torso and leaving a long scratch. Johnnie held your eye contact nodding at you.

The coil finally snapped, your walls clenching around him. “Johnnie-” you whined, your back arching. Your body shaking from your orgasm, sent him completely over the edge.

Hit ropes of cum splattered inside you as he fucked you through his own orgasm. Your breath slowly returned back to your body as you saw Johnnie cleaning your body up with a damp towel.

“Are you ok?” he asked quietly, tossing the rag into the laundry basket. He misses but he just took his girlfriend's virginity so he isn't particularly worried about where it landed. “Yeah I'm fucking great right now actually,” you murmured.

He giggles pulling his clothes back on. You did the same, pulling out your phone to see your makeup completely fucked. Your eyeliner and mascara dripped down, the sweat sucking your makeup into your skin, your lipstick beyond fucked.

You pulled out your phone and snapped one last photo for your Instagram

[hairyjocktf]

Could you turn me into Santa Claus? I want my cookie cravings to make me fat, furry, and bald. I’ll grow a massive white beard and my body hair will lighten to match. Ho ho ho!

It’s officially winter, and snow is starting to fall outside as you sit by the crackling fire. The smell of fresh cookies wafts in from the kitchen; you’d put in a roll of store bought dough earlier. With your stomach already growling you hop up and pull them out of the oven. The smell is intoxicating, and you set out to cool, barely able to make it a couple minutes before you grab one and stuff it in your mouth. The sweet and salty dough alongside the bittersweet chocolate is exactly the flavor rush you needed. You head back to the fireplace and leave the rest of the cookies to cool, letting out a burp. When you sit back down, your belly jiggles just a little more. As you scroll on your phone, your average frame starts growing a little heavier. You sink further into the plush chair, weighing a few pounds more. Your stomach growls again. You swear you just ate, but maybe the cookies are cool enough by now. In a few seconds another large cookie sits in your hands as you devour it. Without even noticing, another five pounds adds itself to your belly. A number of wispy hairs poke out of your smooth chest as you stuff the remains of the cookie down your throat. They’re unbelievably good, but you should leave some for later. 

Well, maybe just one more, you tell yourself as you grab another, chowing down as you walk back towards the fire. Your belly grows more, and your pecs soften as they push out slightly. Your thighs grow a few inches and your jawline starts to lose its definition. A slight shadow inches down across your jaw and over your upper lip as peach fuzz darkens and thickens. Your stomach rumbles as more and more fat begins loading itself on your frame, your arms and legs plumping up, muscle growing in but quickly buried beneath the chub. As you finish off the cookie your body starts to itch. The wispy fuzz across your chest begins to grow thicker and darker, new hairs popping up across the expanse as your pecs sag even more. Dark hairs sprout across your chest and spread up and over your shoulders before your still growing belly is also buried beneath the growing pelt. Your armpits tingle as wiry hairs blossom and quickly become a sweaty tuft of hair. Your slight stubble follows suit, follicles pumping out long dark hairs as the covering grows dense. The hairs pushing out of your cheeks keep going, multiple inches long. Even your arms and legs start growing their own fur, with dense black hairs across your forearms and crawling out of the backs of your hands. Your belly adds another few inches as it starts to hang fully over your waistline. You let out a thunderous belch as you sink further into the chair, rubbing your hairy belly as your shirt rides up on it.

A few minutes later your stomach growls again. It just won’t give up today. With some significant effort you hoist yourself to your (now larger) feet and head back to the kitchen. There’s still quite a few cookies sitting out, and right as you look at them your stomach rumbles. You swipe two and cram them down your gullet. Your thickening fingers make them look small, so eating two isn’t a big deal. Immediately your gut springs forward another inch, the hair on it thickening and growing longer. The hair in the center of your chest thickens, hairs curling together as your beard reaches down towards them, pushing out longer and longer. Your hairline begins to inch back, revealing more of your forehead as you scratch at it, oblivious to the changes. This isn’t the only thing adding years to you though, as the black hairs in your beard one by one start to lose their color. The bright white spreads through your bushy beard and mustache, both of which are still pushing out of your face, and spreads up to what little remains on top of your head as male pattern baldness accelerates. You eat another couple cookies, absolutely cramming them into your mouth to try and satisfy your body. Crumbs go everywhere, getting trapped in your thick beard and falling into the rug of hair coating your chest. As soon as the crumbs touch the hairs they too go white, the bleaching effect spreading across your moobs and belly. Your gut continues to grow larger and larger, fat piling on as you finish off the last of the cookies. With a final belch the rest of the fur across your body turns white and your beard shoots out another inch. You really do look like Santa now, just in time for the holidays.