#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! 🥺❤️

[madamechrissy]

Endless Summer

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Summary- You are staying home from summer break before Senior year of college with your Gran, Josephine, when a huge surprise happens, after over a year of being unable to see Caleb, he comes back to stay. You're so happy, but there's just a couple problems - one, you want him in ways you shouldn't, and you're just starting to get over it with the distance. And two, Caleb is pretty fucking pissed that you have a date, isn't he enough for you!?

Warnings- eventual smut, idiots in love, light angst, taboo relationships, TW- stepcest, mutual pining, yandere Caleb, him being obsessed. This chap - light angst, resolved sexual tension (yay!) oral sex (f and m receiving) fingering, overstim, breed kink, creampie, lost of virginity, possessive Caleb, Yandere behavior- WC 8.2k

Comments/Reblogs appreciated if you enjoyy

<<<Part Three - Part five (final) (coming soon)

Part four

Caleb stands by your door moments later that night, gently rapping on it, to see you open the door in tears, streaking down your cheeks, the sight breaking him. Knowing he just caused this, caused your eyes to glimmer, your lips to tremble, the Caleb who never let anyone make his pip squeak cry, had made her cry instead, the guilt eating at him.

Torn between doing what’s right, and doing what is ‘right’-  what is it?! What’s the ‘right’ move, the safe move, the one that doesn’t hurt you? What does he do, be selfish and devour you, make you leave everything to live on a base alone, away from all your friends and gran? Change the entire trajectory of your life - or does he let you go and hurt you in that way too?

Losing the years and years of friendship, it’s already been tense because he crossed that line, he let his jealousy wreck his mind. Years of holding his composure, of being in total control, of smiling and patting your head like he truly just thought of you as ‘family’ or a ‘childhood friend’ and not what it’s always been.

Since he saw you he fell in love, there was never one moment of Caleb’s life that he didn’t feel that way. The love grew and changed to something obsessive, but the moment Gran brought you home he knew it even then, that he had to protect you, keep you safe. That he needed you, and the need just kept evolving, until it reached the most dangerous obsession.

How would he ever say he stole your fucking panties, that he’s jerked it to you since he knew what it was, that he never even got hard to anyone but you. And you’re begging to suck him, god to fuck him, and he turned you down. It makes not only no sense, he has hurt you, he saw it on your face, your glittery tears with the moonlight filtering in.

It’s what he never, ever wanted.

It’s why he held back - ruining your relationship.

Was it better to absolutely never know what it was like, kissing your lips, to taste your sweetness from its source? To have watched you cum for him is the stuff he’d never even been able to picture fully, and he was so close to having it all. So close to being inside you, with you, only to now have you crying.

“What?” Your voice is harsh and quiet, he swallows then, swiping a tear off your cheek gently.

“I’m sorry, fuck… please…” He leans down and rests his head on yours, you feel your heart shattering when he cups your face, whispering your name gently in the quiet night. “Pips…”

“No,” it hurts to deny him, when all you want is him. “I’m tired of putting myself out there.”

His eyes narrow. “What!?”

“I am, just to get rejected,” you sniffle again, barely holding your composure, body trembling now as his lips that just touched yours hover precariously.

“You think there’s a world I reject you in?” His desperate words are hushed, his violet eyes dark in the night.

“You just did, Caleb.”

“I didn’t want to, I just…”

“Well, you did,” you step back, catching a breath. “You never thought to just ask me if I’d come? Don’t you know I’d follow you anywhere?”

He opens his mouth to speak, before shutting it, swallowing nervously then, knowing he’s waited his entire life for this very moment, and he’s fucked it completely, he’s made you feel rejected when it’s the last thing he wants. He keeps trying to find the words, on the tip of his tongue, chest tightening with how much he needs you, how much he craves you - loves you.

Hopelessly in love since he saw you as a kid.

Say it, Caleb - just say it.

“I didn’t want to ask that of you, I didn’t want to take you away from everything you know and love.” You take a shaky breath, eyes locking with his.

“I can’t take feeling any more, doing any more, if you’re just going to leave me, forget me.”

“I’d never forget you,” he whispers, holding you so close, your hands grip his wrists then, biting that lip as you two stand there, shadows of your figures cast along the expanse of the highway. “I’ll never fucking forget you, how could I? But I don’t want to ruin everything over this.”

“How would being honest ruin anything?” He sighs now, violet eyes dark as they tenderly take in your face.

“It already has. Look at how we’ve been since I came back?”

“You don’t understand anything, Caleb. You think I’m sacrificing something being with you, when I always wanted you to be my first, that's why I waited.” He swallows down the guilt, the torture of your words then.

“And you think I don’t want it? To be your first?”

“You just told me no,” you step back and put your hand on the knob now, looking away from the face you love, the man you adore. “Just leave me alone please.”

He walks away without another word, but you see it - his own tears, as you shut the door and lean against it, an arm wrapping your own body, struggling not to break down completely. You’re a mess of tears, the sorrow building in your heart, the dread of having to say goodbye - and now you can’t even pretend things are fine the way they have been.

Now it’s all fucking out there.

Maybe he’s right, maybe this would ruin everything, but you’re just so tired of lying to yourself any longer. 

*****

“Why so quiet, you two?” Josephine asks, tiredly looking between you both as you sit at the breakfast table.

Caleb’s hands tense on his thighs, staring and not touching a bite of food, the veins pressing up under his skin, looking at you now. “I guess I’m a little sad that I’ll have to be so far away.”

“And I’m sad he’s leaving I suppose.” you murmur, she smiles sadly, nodding to each of your plates then. 

“You two still need to eat, you know.”

“I know, my appetite isn’t here.” You sigh, poking your fork around, you’re too close to Caleb, yet so fucking far from him, the distance agonizing. This morning you both hadn’t said a fucking word.

After you embarrassed yourself last night damn near begging for him, even after his apology you just felt stupid. You get it, why he is afraid to cross the line further, but how were you just supposed to be okay with it? He’s infuriating, just acting like shit is normal, even now he gives you a small smile, as if you can return it.

You don’t want to waste the last couple days with him like this, but you also can’t bring yourself to act like everything is just fine. That he didn’t shatter your heart turning you down, that he didn’t completely destroy you for anyone when he devoured you on his knees. Like you could ever move on now.

Maybe before you could move on, you could make it work, but now?

Your cell phone starts going off, and you sigh, looking at it now. “Ah, there’s a get-together tonight with my classmates.”

“Where at?” Caleb asks casually, you resist the urge to tell him - why bother asking - knowing at this point you’re being petty.

His rejection stings so badly, and not just because he rejected you, but his reasoning just made no sense.

“The club out by the college.”

“Ah, isn’t that a pretty rowdy place?”

“And?” You raise a brow, and his violet eyes narrow, as the sunlight filters in the large kitchen windows, brightening them.

“And, are you sure you wanna go?”

“Well it’s all my friends, so yes.”

“Maybe Caleb should come along?” You both look at Josephine then, who is sipping on her coffee. “You two want to spend more time together before he has to leave, right?”

“Right… but Caleb would find the scene pretty boring.” He raises a brow now, looking at you. “And I’m fine by myself.”

Those words stab him, he wonders if it’s your intention, to fucking hurt him by pointing out that you’re fine by yourself - that you don’t need him. Whether it was straightening your hair, driving, or just sleeping alone during the storms, you did not need him anymore. And he should be happy, since he’ll be gone for so fucking long, that you’re self sufficient.

But a part of him wants you to still need him.

A part of him wants to take you up on your offer, selfless as it is, and bring you with him, make you a pretty stay at home wife that he consistently keeps pregnant. It’s a fucked up thought track but all he can think, when he sees you the possessive instincts are far worse. It’s why he pushes you away, it’s why he tries so hard to keep his control, his composure that’s been shattered.

Now he can tell you want a rise out of him, but it works far, far too fucking well. “You’re right Gran, we should spend some time together while we can.”

“Is it really important, spending time with me before you go? Maybe you can play Bingo with Gran tonight.”

“Bingo?” He demands, his voice low, brows raised, you sip on your orange juice, smiling a bit.

“I think Caleb should go with you,” Gran’s words make you pause, looking over at her. “I don’t think he’d enjoy Bingo, all the ladies will terrorize him.”

“They wouldn’t leave me alone last time,” he grimaces, running a hand over his face, you laugh a bit at the memory, the first time he’s seen you truly laugh today, brightening your face so prettily. His heart stops as you clear your throat then, staring back at your plate. “Think I’ll cramp your style, chase off your little boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t know if he’ll be there.”

You’re clear about it - he’s not - but would he be, when Caleb left?

He has so much to say, so much he’s just dying to speak - how much he loves you, has always loved you. How deeply his feelings run, and how they’ll never fade, how they’ve just grown every moment in your presence, and every one in your absence. But to make it worse, the hurt, the possibility it doesn’t even work out, and you all lose everything.

“You can come if you want,” your voice is a little softer now, that sweet caress to his ears that fills him with even more longing. “I want you to go, it’ll be fun.”

“Yeah?” You nod, feeling how awful you’re being, and you can’t, you don’t have enough time to act this way.

If Caleb wants to be your friend, you will be his friend.

“Yes.” He brushes your hair back with a soft smile. It's familiar, it's a ruffle of your hair like you're still kids, that smile that always makes you ache.

Maybe going back to how you were would be the best thing, to forget the feelings eating you alive. The way everything stopped when he had finally kissed you, maybe you can forget it happened. It's clearly what Caleb wants. Later when you’re getting ready, and he walks by the bathroom he falters, eyeing your skirt and top, his lips parting as you pin an earring in.

“You’re wearing that?” He asks gruffly, you step out and do a little spin, showing off far, far too much skin and smiling.

“I am! Do you like it?”

He scoffs, stepping closer, your back pressing against the old wooden wall of the hallway, when a palm comes right on the other side of your head, his other letting his fingers trail across your shoulder. “Do I like it? Ya asking me that?”

“Maybe I shouldn’t, don’t want you trying to be nice-”

“You look slutty.” You gasp, smacking him then, and he exhales, gripping your chin and almost moaning.

“Fuck you for that.”

“See what happened? Can’t even get along, can we?”

“You know I’m not slutty, but maybe that’ll all change, hmm? Since the person I keep waiting for doesn’t want me - ah!”

“Don’t want you!?” He grabs your face then, his cheek still stinging, you bite back a whine when he leans low, his voice a whisper. “You know that’s the biggest fucking lie there is. I didn’t want to ruin it, everything we have - and what’s happening now, that we kissed?”

“You’re causing this,” you push him off then, tugging at your top, showing even more of your pretty tits as his jaw locks. “There, that’s better, right?”

“I swear to god-”

“Let’s go.”

The car ride was brutally quiet, his fingers kept hovering, itching to touch you over your bare knee, but you just looked out the window at the lights flashing by, fucking saying nothing. The tension and divide keeps growing with every breath, until you feel like you can’t breathe, it’s all him, all Caleb, and for him it’s all you. But the two of you make no move to speak, not even feigning casual conversation.

Caleb knows many of the people there, the two of you were only a couple of years apart in age and were always so glued together it was just par for the course that you spent time together. At times, Caleb’s friends would complain he always brought you everywhere, sometimes they would convince him enough and you’d stay home, but he’d miss you so badly it was hard to even have fun.

The nights spent waiting to see you again will be worse - further away - but also the looming thoughts of what he’d come back to. Quickly separated, he’s having a drink with a couple of the guys from his college days, and you’re downing a shot with one of your girls. That boy who’d marked your neck has the audacity to come up to you again, and Caleb’s hand clutches his glass tightly.

He almost can’t breathe, the lights suddenly flashing too quickly, there’s too many people, too much noise, his pulse races while he watches him tug you to the dance floor, something he wishes he could do. But how could he, in front of everyone, what would they say? Not about him, he couldn’t care less, but about you?

He can’t help but wallow in his own self made misery, picturing spinning you in his arms instead, it’s hard for him to hear what anyone is saying over the blaring music and his pulse racing in his ears. The thoughts keep flashing through his mind, over and over - his, his, his. Thoughts he has never been able to stop, the ones that are unbearable.

Caleb watches you over his glass now, he isn't drinking alcohol just soda, he'd rather make sure you're safe and okay. He almost needs a fucking drink though when he sees you, rolling your hips, that boy's hands on your hips as you dance. You’re giggling, drink in your hand, and he would think how pretty you were if he wasn’t contemplating breaking his fingers.

Is this what it would be when he leaves between the two of you? You moving on to some loser who could never, ever deserve you. You being with someone - fuck losing your virginity to some little idiot, when you begged for him to take it. Is that what he has to get in his head, the natural way of things, what's ‘right’ to do?

Caleb is so fucking tired of it.

Your eyes catch him across the dance floor, glassy as you never could handle your drinks. He remembers many nights of saving your ass when you'd sneak out, coming back tipsy from two little drinks, and he'd have to cover for you with Gran. Those were the moments he'd hug you a little tighter, let his hands linger, hoping you'd never notice.

But you'd cling to him, kiss his neck, giggle in that maddening way. Torture, you torture him. There is no other explanation for it, for what you do, but torture, and tasting you was just the sweetest form of it, having you beg him to be inside you, yet he turned it down, like a fucking idiot. He finally has what he wants and he’s terrified, now left to watch you as the lights illuminate your skin.

Each sway of your hip is painful to Caleb, knowing how badly he wants to grab your hips, when finally he can’t fucking stand it anymore. He can see by your mean little smile you want him jealous, you want the reaction - and he’s right. You do want that reaction, you want him to crave you, need you, in every single fucking way. You want him to desire you like you do him.

You don’t care about this boy, you almost feel sorry, you feel petty doing this, but you want to show Caleb what he is missing, shoving aside. For what? To be whatever he deems as okay, safe, the ‘right thing’, when all you want is more of him, all of him. Every movement is for his gaze, every casual role of your hips is thoughts you’re craving to tell him.

But you’re so scared of his rejection.

He starts walking your way, for a moment you think you’re in some delusion, that you’re just actually in your room still, crying yourself to sleep. In some wet dream where Caleb will take control, where he’ll beat your ass with that firm hand, tell you how bad you’ve been, filthy things that almost make you cry out loud, until he’s standing right in front of you, tugging you from the boy’s grip.

“We're leaving,” Caleb's tone is dark as he grabs your wrist, the boy fucking runs off from one look from Caleb, his long fingers wrapping your wrist tightly. He leans low, so close he can taste the sweet liquor on your breath. “Now, pipsqueak.”

“You can go, I'm having fun, Caleb,” you're giggling and sipping down your fruity drink, earning his deeper scowl under the lights, and people start watching you two curiously. “Something wrong?”

He laughs without humor then, shaking his head and taking your drink out of your hand. “Everything's fucking wrong.”

“And whose fault is that?” You lean up then, on your tiptoes, your hand on his shoulders, burning his skin even under the layer of his jacket, he inhales sharply at the sensation, his hands resting on your bare waist. “What exactly is wrong?”

“You shouldn't be out looking like this,” his grip tightens, and you gasp. “Only I should see your pretty body, in your slutty little fucking dress.”

“You don't even want to. I'm tired of your games.” You turn and he tugs you back to him, bringing you right against his chest in front of everyone, many who murmur to themselves a bit at the sight.

Caleb sighs, looking around and hesitating, but then sets your glass down with a cling, and tugs you closer, scowling right down at you. Your heart pounds in your chest, thrumming against his while he towers over you, a huge hand spread across your skin. “I’m not the one playing games, you are.”

“Don’t you care that they can see?” You whisper, he tilts your chin up then, shaking his head. “Haven’t you always?”

“I only cared because I worried what you thought, that’s it, that’s all I’ve ever worried about. You. Only fucking you, do you understand!?” He’s too close, you smell the scent of him, overpowering all the other mixed scents in the room, it’s all just Caleb now, the heat spreads through your body at his words, at his touch.

“I’ve never cared what anyone thought, I’d tell them all what I really feel,” he shakes his head, leaning lower now. “We’ve wasted all this time pretending, do you want to keep on with it? Should I go back and dance with him, and we go home to our separate rooms? That’s the ‘safe’ idea, right?”

“You think I’m letting you fucking dance with him again, his hands all over you? Your ass, your waist, your hips…” He trails off, fingers working their way, across the thin little crop top, down your skirt, your nipples press against the material of your top, soft on your skin, you can’t hold back your whine.

“Then show me - stop holding back. God, just show me what you actually feel, even if it’s for tonight,” your little whisper ends him, Caleb pulls back however, and you feel the emotions burning your eyes, until he’s tugging you away. “Caleb… what’re you doing?”

He says nothing, it’s humid and sticky outside, after passing the sea of curious onlookers - some smiling curiously, others with raised brows. Caleb - who sees you as a ‘little sister’ they all say, grabbing at you, leaning so close he could kiss you, perhaps they’re all murmuring right now, just what are you both to each other?

Caleb never, ever wanted anyone to hurt you with a rumour, it’s another reason he’s held back so long, but as he drags you to his car now, he’s quick in his strides, his mind lost completely. He’s torn between fucking you right in the car and realizing it’d be the worst fucking place to take you the first time. He’s tugged in two directions, an angry desire and an aching tenderness.

You’re quiet when he puts you in the car, when he comes to the other side and revs it up, the soft music playing one of your favorite songs, the air starting to blow cooly on your skin. Before you can speak, he’s leaned over the seat, that insane look in his eyes barely visible in the darkness, the quietness of the car, just that gentle hum of music and his heavy breaths.

He cups your face, thumbs slipping across your cheeks, your own hands come to grip his wrists as he just looks at you, breaths heavier and heavier. It fans across your lips, your skin, burning you as he’s so close to kissing you, so close you can taste him, a hand entangling in your hair and tugging, making you cry out, your head falling back.

“Did you like making me jealous?” His voice is dark now, tugging harder. “Asked ya a question, pips.”

“Yes,” he scowls deeper, you shift your hips, cunt aching from the sweet pain, from the need. “It shows your real feelings, the one you fucking bury.”

“So you did it all to make me angry?” You nod, you’re past pretending, he chuckles then, just a scoff of a laugh, looking down at your lips. “Should I show you just how fucking mad I am?”

“Show me - mnh!” Caleb slams his lips on yours then, the kiss is hot, hungry, brutal, not a gentle peck or a seductive caress, he takes over everything you are in that moment.

“Acting slutty when you’re mine, showing off your body when it’s for me,” you’re whining out, trembling when he kisses you in between insults, ones that are just making you throb, making you ache, his teeth sinking into your lips now. “Mnh, why do you torture me?”

“Torture you?” Caleb’s kissing down your throat, a hand gripping your thigh and pressing them apart, earning a ragged gasp from your lips, your hand grips his jacket, the denim of it against your fingers. “Ah!”

“You’ve tortured me for so long, fuck…” he’s lost in you, in your taste while his tongue licks a stripe right under your jaw, feeling your heat when his fingers press against your thigh. “Since I met you, haunting me, fucking up my head just by existing, don’t you even know!?”

You shake your head, and he moans, nipping your ear, his lips against it, murmuring your name so softly as you shift in the leather of his seats, head falling to the side for more of his greedy kisses. “Caleb, please.”

“Just say it, and I’ll give it to you. I swear I will.” He pulls back, swallowing nervously, studying your beautiful face in the dark, the heat decorating your cheeks, the way your lashes cast shadows on them. He feels the heat burning his hand, he knows you want it, but he has to hear it.

“I want you to let me touch you,” he moans, shaking his head. “I want to suck you.”

“You’re talking like that!?” He glares now, and you bite your lower lip, already swollen from him. “I’ll make you cum.”

“You can, after I taste you, Caleb,” he sighs, pulling back, sitting back in his seat and making you glare. “Really, thought you’d give me anything?”

“I’ll give it to you, on the way back, because I’ll cum inside that pretty fucking cunt,” you blush then, and he smirks just a bit. “Now ya nervous? Take what you want, pips, think I’ll stop you?”

He starts driving when you precariously lean forward, he’s unzipped in moments, moaning as your hair falls to the side, and you touch him over his boxers. “Caleb… y-you’re huge…”

“Can you take it all?” His voice is a challenge, your cunt is leaking against your panties when you tug him out, and he’s driving, the car gently swaying, his free hand gripping your hair.

“I want it all,” your whisper brushes his blush tip as you free him, a dusky rose pink, leaking pearly precum. You bite back a gasp at just how big he is, thick and girthy, straight cock all veiny as you press a kiss to the tip. He jerks, gasping and gripping your hair.

“Fuck…” He can’t barely handle a fucking kiss, let alone your little tongue along the slit, tonguing out his salty liquid leaking. “Honey…”

“You’re yummy too,” your little whisper is met with you sucking his tip in your mouth now, never having done it before. He’s tugging your hair tightly, but not moving you, almost pulling you back. “I want you to feel good.”

“I want you cumming, god it’s all I want, you cumming till you fucking pass out - mnh,” you suck him then, as he struggles to keep his hands on the steering wheel, your mouth feeling so fucking good he can’t stand it. “Pips, fuck, don’t take too much.”

“Mnh,” is all your response is, as you suck him deeper, saliva dripping down his cock, bobbing up and down, pressing your thighs together. His fingers slip down your spine, to the curve of your ass, slipping up your slit now, feeling it sticky and drenched to the touch. “Ah!”

“You’re this wet from sucking me?” He taunts, only making you suck him harder, the suction causing you to drool, while your hand grips his jeans, trying to balance yourself while the car drives. “I can’t wait to be inside you, fuck every thought of anyone out of your head. It’ll be just me, won’t it?”

“Mmhmm!” You’re so wet you hear it in the car, when he’s running his fingers back and forth over your clit, over and over, wetness pouring as you drool down his length, feeding off his little whimpers, his breaths catching. You’re sucking more and more, until he comes to a stop, yanking you off. “Caleb!”

“No, I’m cumming inside you,” he whispers, you realize you’re in front of your home in a daze, as he kisses you, tasting his salty cum off your tongue, tugging you against him. “Let’s go.”

You’re following him around the back yard, to the little poolhouse you all haven’t been inside in ages, the quiet one that you used to spend time in together as kids, less and less as the years went. He’s quietly stepping inside of it, littered with memories of every encounter when he shuts the door, turning you and pressing you against it.

“You’re all mine, don’t you know?” His whisper is dark, he cups your chin, turning it now, your lips part as your ass arches back, feeling his hard length when he presses you closer against the door. “Say it.”

“All yours,” it’s what you’ve always wanted to be, he kisses you again, moaning into your lips, when you feel the skirt unzip, falling into a pool at your ankles. “Caleb, please.”

“Let me take my time,” he’s this mix of needy, whiny and sexy, fucking self sure, hands tremble for just a moment when he slips your straps off your shoulders. “Lift your arms.”

You do just that, letting him tug your top off, leaving you in ruined, soaked panties. He turns you now, eyes studying your tits, hands gripping them, covering them, thumbs brushing your nipples. Your head falls back, while he kisses up your collar bone, your throat, and your panties are just nothing, stuck fabric pressed up between your lips now, you’re shoving his jacket off, he pulls back.

Caleb lets it fall, then you eagerly unbutton his shirt, pressing a kiss on his chest, right next to where his dog tags and that little apple lie, he sucks in a breath, picking you up then like it’s nothing. Your thighs are around his hips, when he carries you, lips only leaving for a quick breath or two, his hands gripping your ass now, as you grind eagerly on him.

Caleb carries you to the little bed you two used to cuddle on, watch movies on your phones under the blankets, giggle as he’d tell you a story, the memories of every inch of this little house feel perfect. You never, ever want to let them go, just mixing with new ones while he leans over you, your hand comes to his chest, eyes locking, and he holds in against him, drinking in the sight of you.

“Stop me now,” he whispers, and you shake your head. “Pips, before we cross this line, before I fuck your insides up, fill you over and over.”

“I want it, I want all of you- ah!” He’s kissing you again, teeth clicking, your noses bumping as he tilts his head, drinking every cry, one arm braced against you, his hard body sweating just slightly, dripping a bit on your bare skin, when he rubs you again over those panties. “Please, in me. God please.”

“Fuck,” he should be begging you, but he instead desperately kisses lower, sucking a pretty nipple into his mouth and swirling his tongue around one. “Perfect, beautiful, look at you.”

“Caleb!” He’s still rubbing that sad little strap of material against your cunt, pulsing around nothing with need, his teeth scraping an areola, so sweet and painful the pleasure fucks your mind. “Take 'em off, ngh!”

“Impatient, you put me through that much tonight and think I’ll give you what you want that quick?” His lips quirk at the corner now, watching the flushed mess you are. “I think I’ll take my time.”

Your answer is another whine as he sucks your other nipple, harder, cheeks hollowing as his soft brown hair falls over his brow. “Ah!”

You’re so beautiful under him then, when he eyes you, mouth a slutty o, tits bouncing just so when your hips jerk, overstimulated from his teasing over the lace and cotton. “Are you gonna be a good girl, pips?”

“Promise,” he chuckles, kissing lower then, tip of his pink tongue trailing between two breasts, right between your ribcage. You’re arching for more, when his kisses move lower, hands gripping your hips tightly. “Oh my god!”

He’s nipping your hip now, leaning up and slipping his hand down your thigh, your calf, slipping off a heel and tossing it to the floor. The other follows, when he finally grips your waistband, tugging them down achingly slow. You’re a writhing mess under him, as he kisses lower, breath ghosting your cunt, he sees it’s soaking wet and glistening.

“Your cunt is so wet already, is it only for me? Huh pips, just me?” You’re nodding, when he smacks your cunt, making you gasp. “Answer me, use those words pretty girl.”

“Only you, Caleb, god just you. Always you.” He lets out what sounds like a soft growl, broad shoulders spreading your thighs as your hands entangle in his hair.

“What do you need, how can I make you feel good?” He kisses up your inner thigh, torturing you, teasing you. “How can I make you forget anything but me?”

“There’s nothing but you, n-nothing, oh!” He presses a hungry kiss right on your hood then, your eyes roll back.

“Tell me what you need, use your words honey,” he urges you on, slipping a long finger, calloused from the amount of training he’s done, rough on your gentle, slick cunt, feeling even more delicious. “How can I make you feel better, where do you need me?”

“Mouth on m-me, please,” he moans now, already dying to have you back on his tongue, slipping it up your slit ever so slowly. “Ngh!”

“Do you know how many times I tasted you over the years?” You blink rapidly, confused and fucked out from his teasing, brain trying to register as he parts your puffy lips, tongue slipping up from your hole to your clit.

“Huh? How?” He chuckles then, the tickling alone having you gripping the sheets underneath you, gasping out when his teeth are against your cunt.

“You really wanna know?” You nod desperately, brushing his hair back gently, his fingers slip inside your hole now, filling and stretching you out, curling right on your spot. “Aw, can’t talk?”

“Y-yes, tell me. I wanna know - f-fuck!” He’s curling his fingers inside your gummy, slick walls, which quiver around him as his mouth kisses messy and filthy over your clit.

“Well, pips,” he watches as your body jerks, feeling you tense while his fingers work you like they’ve learned so quickly, your juices pouring down his wrist. His tongue slips some of it up, groaning. “Took your panties.”

“You w-what… ah!”

“Licked you off them, mnh,” he’s rutting his cock against the mattress now, while you’re arching up for more, head falling back in ecstasy as the pressure builds. “Buried my face in them.”

“Caleb you d-didn’t even, you’re - ah!” He’s sucking your clit into his mouth, humming as his fingers move up and down, over and over, and you feel it all building, the heat in your core, the slickness of your cunt louder and louder. “Lying!”

“Not lying, god I use them to jerk off once I’ve sucked all your wetness off them, they’re just not enough, not as yummy as your pretty pussy is from the source. Soaking, dripping wet - there you go, feel good?”

“Y-you jerked off in them!?” He’s chuckling again, leaning up, his chin coated in your slick arousals, you’re so close, when his thumb rolls on your clit, right with his middle and ring finger rocking up and down over and over, making you scream out, hands locked in their death grip of the cotton.

“Sure did, every pair I could find,” he leans over you now, rocking his hand with so much pressure you can’t stand it, writhing and gasping out at it. “You sure you really can handle me? Can you handle what I’ll do, when I lose it, finally inside you?”

“Caleb, god just, yes I want it! I do, stop teasing me.” You’re done for when he rocks them over and over, pressure exploding until your orgasm rocks you in waves, a messy, sloppy cunt pouring, pulsating around his thick digits.

“That’s it, cum f’me, just me, only me,” he’s lost now, kissing your cries up, while you gush embarrassing amounts of wetness down him, dripping onto the sheets beneath you until it leaves a wet spot on the white. “That’s it, you’re so beautiful, god pips.”

He’s kissing you now, letting you taste yourself, while his fingers continue to glide, making you jerk now, while they’re between now puffy lips, messy and soppy with the juices spilling. He slides down his pants, his boxers then, cock slapping his bare stomach, precum dripping on his flat belly button, finally laying on top of you, and that’s when he pauses.

He brushes your cheek with his fingertips so tenderly it makes your throat close with emotion, swallowing nervously when you reach down, stroking his thick cock with your little hand, barely wrapping the girth of it. He sucks in a breath, still brushing your cheek softly, his other arm so tense you see the veins pressing up from his thin, pale skin, decorated with faint freckles.

“Honey, are you sure?” He asks then, thumb brushing your swollen lip, plump under the pad of it. “This is your first time.”

“I always wanted it to be you, Caleb,” you blink back tears now, sniffling just a bit, because for every bit of desire there, in equal parts was emotions. “I want this, I want you inside me.”

“Fuck,” he’s letting you put it there, before he takes his cock, running the pale pink tip up your slit, bumping your clit, making your eyes roll back, your thighs jerk now. “It’s… it’s my first time too.”

You pause, looking up at him in surprise now, your mouth opens just a bit, hand slipping up his bare chest, where you feel his heart hammer. “You’ve never?”

“No, never, you just thought so. And I… was…”

“Embarassed?” You finish, he pauses, leaning on an elbow now, pressing in just a bit, enough to make you cry out. “Caleb, don’t be. Please don’t be.”

“I’m not here with you. But I want this perfect, so perfect for you, and… what if I can’t…”

“Shh,” you cut him off now, hips arching up, his tip pressing inside, stretching you. “With you? It’ll be perfect.”

He moans and slams his lips down, cock pressing past that tight ring of muscles, so thick he’s stretching you out so much it burns, it hurts. The first prick of pain causes a little cry, and he pauses, worry filling his amethyst eyes, even as the desire to shove his entire cock inside your cunt fills him. He rests his head on yours, pausing there, not moving, hands on your hips now.

“Are you all right? I can eat you out more - I could do it all fucking night,” he says softly, pulling back now, you cry out in pain again, and he frowns, immediately worried. “Am I hurting you!?”

“No, n-no just give me a minute, you’re really big,” he flushes, thankful you can’t see in the dark, letting you adjust, pressing little kisses along your brow, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. “I want it, I want you. I need you - ah!”

Caleb’s done then, slamming his cock half way, that alone is so many inches stuffed in your perfect cunt, and you take it so perfectly. “Made f’me, aren’t you? Say it, pips, say it.”

“M-made f’you,” you’re hardly able to talk, so sensitive that when Caleb bottoms out, you feel an orgasm hitting, you’re gushing, tight muscles contracting, as his big hands grip your hair, and his lips move over yours. “Mnh!” 

“That’s it, mmm she’s so wet, so fucking tight - ah fuck…” Caleb’s lost then, in the cries filling his ears, in your gummy walls just gripping him so tight he can’t take it, a hand entwines with yours as he sinks in fully, pressing your cervix. “So tight.”

“C-Caleb! You’re so deep!” You’re gripping his back, nails pressing in as his drooly tip hits your cervix, looking to see his eyes have gone black. 

“God I wanna fill you, breed you, fuck you so much you can’t walk,” he’s lost now, lifting your thigh and fucking you harder, delicious strokes that destroy you with every thrust of his hips. You’re shaking underneath him, lost in his words, filling your mind with filthy images. “Have you dripping my cum, next time you dance with someone - hah - it’ll be slipping down your little hole.”

He’s mean with his strokes, but his fingers are entwined with yours, your tits are jiggling as he shoves deeper, so deep. You’re so full, tummy tensing as you feel him everywhere, yet his kisses are gentle, for every brutal thrust there’s a caress of his rough fingers, a murmur of beautiful for every slutty little cunt. The duality of him, the love and caring, then the filthy desire is impossible to handle.

You’re so close again, and he sees it, he knows it, shoving your thighs up and fucking you harder and harder, the sounds filthy, while your nails sink in and leave marks he hopes last forever. His fingers leave bruises as he fucks you hard, skin slapping, heavy balls hitting your ass where your cum is dripping down it, making a mess of you both.

“So messy, god you love it, being filled by me, huh?” You helplessly nod, while Caleb pounds harder, your cunt is struggling to adjust, stretch and accommodate, and he’s lost again. “Need to cum, honey? Need me to play with your little clit?”

“Pl-ease Caleb, please,” you’re whimpering, the sound mixed with your fluttering eyes and flushed skin too perfect, Caleb shoves your thighs up high then, thumb finding your clit. “Ngh!”

“That’s it, only I know you, only I will ever know you like this, say it,” he’s running circles now, torturous ones with slower strokes, hard ones that make those filthy wet smacking sounds. “Say it, Pips.”

“Only you will, g-god there! Please!”

“I’ll give you anything beautiful, anything,” his cock shoves in so deep, you can’t breathe with the fullness, his finger working in tandem to push you right over that edge, letting out a shaky moan. “That’s it, cum for me, just me, only me.”

Your orgasm crashes hard, spreading throughout your body once that coil in your tummy releases. You’re shaking, body tensing and twitching, cunt spasming around the thick invasion in your cunt now. Caleb moans as he watches you, pausing for a moment, as you murmur his name, almost drunkenly. The pleasure is so intense - even more so than his mouth, than his fingers.

You feel tears fall from the sweet release as Caleb continues to fuck you, his thrusts slower, easier, whispering your name. Not pipsqueak, not honey, no he says your name like a love declaration, eyes never leaving yours, so full of everything you know he wants to say, the things you’re holding back even with him inside of you, making you feel like you’re falling apart.

It’s too much, so much pleasure you can’t even think, can’t do anything but feel him, as he keeps up those little circles now, watching you twitch and spasm underneath him. “C-Caleb, it’s too much, s-sensitive…”

Your cunt grips him like a vise, and he chuckles now, not sweet Caleb, no he’s insane. “You can cum again, can’t you pips? Waited forever for this, I need you cummin’ till you can’t think, can’t see, can’t form a word.”

He’s relentless, his thumb on your clit now faster again, more insistent as it twitches under him, making you scream as you come apart, muscles spasming around his cock, juices spurting out onto his stomach with the force of it. The sight is too much for him, you don’t even see it, you're squirting all over, your head is thrown back, your mouth wide open in a cry.

“That’s it, look how messy you are, you want it - me to fill you?” He asks softly, husky voice so deep, like a soft growl, leaning back to spread your thighs now, letting them fall and tremble to the side. “God, look.”

He’s enamored with the bulge, you’re too fucked out to answer, while he moves slowly, savoring every inch, your juices falling all over, making a squishy mess of your hole now. You’re taking him easier and easier, hips arching where they bucked back before, hands shaking when he takes one, kissing the back of it, so tender you almost cry.

How would you ever let him go now?

He brushes your hair back, kissing you again, exhaling as he feels the love declaration on the tip of his tongue, still so terrified to cross that line, but he knows it then, what he’s always known. You are his everything, you are the only thing in this world that means something, and now your fucked out, lidded gaze hits him, the beauty gripping his heart.

“You’re s-so perfect f’me, so beautiful,” you blink more tears, god even those make him thicken, make the head of his cock swell, while he feels your aftershocks. “You’re mine to breed, only mine, mine to fill with all this cum. I need you to say it, Pips, say you want it all.”

He’s insane, you know it then, his possessive eyes glinting. “Breed?”

“Yes, put so much cum inside you, fuck put babies in you,” he grips your chin, as the words terrify you as much as they make you wetter. “Hide you away from anyone, never let a man fucking touch you.”

“C-Caleb-”

“Say it, say it, you’re mine all mine,” he’s whining out, pleading, even as his cock wrecks you - how the fuck Caleb was a virgin you can’t even fathom. He cups your face tightly, eyes black with desire. “Say it.”

“Yours, yours too breed, yours to fill, y-yours,” you finally manage the words, and he moans, lips slamming down, when he shoves in one more time, flooding your cunt with so much cum, it’s ridiculous the amount of white, puffy ropes that shoot up and coat your walls then. “Caleb!”

“Wanna put babies inside you, so fucking many, you’ll never ever leave me, will you? Never,” you’re just nodding, crying hot fat tears as his cum pumps more and more, his cock pushing it deep, your thighs press into his narrow hips, heels against the dimples on his back as he rolls them again. “Never leave me. Never let anyone t-touch you, h-have you.”

“C-caleb,” you’re shushed with his kisses, as he says shit you don’t even understand, as you watch him fall off the edge with his possessiveness, he kisses up your jaw in the quiet poolhouse, the fan overhead swirling, cooling your sweat slicked skin. “Mnh!”

“Sore, honey?” You manage a nod, your cunt is sore, achy and throbbing, he pulls back, looking down at you with such affection and love your heart clenches. He sighs softly, kissing your forehead, exhaling, his breath blowing the baby hairs on your brow. “I got carried away, you felt so perfect.”

“N-no, no I loved it.” He sighs again, this time in relief, as he leans back, kissing your lips, cock slipping out and dripping with both of you down to the blankets.

“You need me to make you feel better, don’t you? I was too rough.”

“You weren’t, it was perfect,” you give him a tremulous smile, seeing his relief mix with concern when he eyes your abused hole, fingers slipping down it and making your hips jerk just a bit. “I just can’t… this can’t be just once.”

“You think I’d do it just once? I don’t want it just once tonight,” you’re blushing so pretty, he chuckles a bit, before focusing again. “I need to clean you up. Wait right here, okay?”

You nod, heart pounding, soon Caleb has you all cleaned up, the evidence of your first time apparent, tugging on his heart as he worries he was too rough, but you’re blissfully smiling when you sleep in his arms, wearing his dress shirt and nothing else. As Caleb holds you in his arms, everything starts crashing - reality, that you’re both in a pool house, that your relationship has changed forever.

Could everyone accept it?

He would never care, but again he thinks of you - always of you, smiling as you cuddle him, snuggle him. He brushes your hair back, wanting to figure out everything as much as he can, the logistics, what he should do, what wasn’t just ‘right’ for everyone, but right for you.

Another part of him is thrilled your cum is slipping out of your cunt, he hadn’t even asked you if you’re on anything, he hopes you’re not actually. The sick, twisted desire and possession fills him, he could eat his cum out while you sleep soundly, put more cum inside you, it takes everything to hold back, to just kiss your head, his eyes fluttering shut.

That’s when he hears it.

A murmur, a whisper, in your sleep.

‘I love you, Caleb’

Do you… feel the same for him?

yes they FINALLY made progress lol, their end next chap will be happy dw, thanks for everyone reading this one :') It's my first Caleb chapter fic and I def am enjoying it hehe

Kofi link if you wanna buy me a glass of wine 🍷

tags- @blitziwitch @mcdepressed290 @hyunjifilm @mentaltrouble2201 @aquarianbeat @tartartagliaboo @trishiepo0 @virtualityhome @slytherin-min99 @plzdonutpercieveme @taebvby @jlynns-posts @coralbae @thejujvtsupost @deathrye @tsumoorin @mynsan @lostfracturess @dummiebunny @ashirelle @ilovesugurugeto69 @ilovechanyeol16 @sylusqt @liluvtojineteyam @lunaryasha @maisiefrancesca @ravenbc @straows @callme-amaya @yandereaficionado @wordsgodeep @bandomonia @ellexamor @sukunasunflower @wooasecret @kithyyy @yizhouge @dreamingoftomorrow @sylvieisoffline @whiteghostt @szafficat @lhhlver @sanzy4 @chaoticbardlady99 @mistress-daddy-nyx @pinksaiyans @webshooterrr9 @mynsan @bluerskiees @keylimepiebby

[milatiny-xx]

promise | k.ys

pairing: kang yeosang x gn!reader summary: your childhood best friend accidentally admits that he's been secretly in love with you for many years and just recently got over it. at least, he thinks so. you want to put that theory to the test. warnings: best friends to loversss, mutual pining, fluff, make out!! make out!!, fade to black!! wc: 2.1k a/n: yeosang's biceps. send post. x

⊹₊⟡⋆ masterlist | taglist ⊹₊⟡⋆

You giggle as you throw back another shot of soju, wincing when you put the glass down.

"Ach, this stuff is terrible," you whine. "Next time, I'll buy the booze."

Yeosang laughs, placing the bottle back on the coffee table.

"Be my guest," he replies. "That one was expensive."

You're both sitting on the floor with a box of half-eaten pizza beside you and a mostly empty bottle of soju. Having been best friends since childhood, you and Yeosang try to meet up at least once every two weeks to hang out. You order food, get drinks, and watch a terrible drama neither of you have seen before. You have to give Sangie a lot of credit—despite his crazy busy schedule with ATEEZ, he always shows up to your friend dates and never, ever cancels.

"What are you complaining about? Surely, you can afford it."

"Ah, right. Because I'm a big time idol."

You nod, pursing your lips at him to say duh.

"Yeah, exactly. Even though you don't act like it."

He reaches for the bottle to pour you both another drink.

"What do you mean?"

"You're sitting here with me devouring greasy pizza and throwing back liquor while we watch one of the most horrendous movies I've ever seen in my life. It's just not how I imagine idols acting."

He hums in acknowledgement. His eyes slide from side to side as if he were looking for spies before he leans in toward you. You raise your eyebrows but follow his lead.

"You do know we're still humans, right?" he says, voice low. You scoff, playfully slapping his arm. "Besides, I would never give up this time with you."

Your heart lurches, his sweet words dripping like honey. On the one hand you love when he says things like that to you—it makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, like you're special to him. On the other hand, it's usually followed with the most intense emotional pain you've ever experienced when you remember that he's saying it to you as a friend.

"Give me that," you gesture to the soju. "And tell me something."

"Tell you what?"

"I don't know. Something personal, something secret, something nobody else knows. Here, I'll go first. Ummmm," you study the ceiling as you think. "Ah, I know! When we were in third grade and that stapler disappeared from Mr. Wan's desk, Ha-joon got in trouble for it. But it was really me, and I let him take the blame because I didn't want them to call my mom."

Yeosang's mouth drops open, amusement flooding across his handsome face. He laughs, covering his mouth with his hand—an adorable habit that you've noticed he has.

"Ha-joon wasn't allowed to go to recess for three months after that. How can you live with yourself?"

You shrug, slightly embarrassed.

"It's not easy. Your turn."

He hums to himself as he thinks. His eyes catch yours for a fleeting second, and you can tell that he's got an idea.

"Well...there's one thing I can think of."

You tilt your head, interest piqued.

"Yeah? What's that?"

Yeosang's eyes sparkle. A sweet grin spreads across his face as he drops his head sheepishly. He chuckles, a deep rumbling noise that raises goosebumps on your arms. You can't help but giggle.

"What?" you ask, playfully smacking his arm. "What are you laughing about?"

He shakes his head, his long bangs falling into his eyes. Your heart flutters as you appreciate how gorgeous he is. A slight pink flush spreads across his sharp cheekbones.

"It's...ahh, no, it's too embarrassing."

"Oh no. No, you can't do that, Sangie. Now you have to tell me."

He hesitates for another moment. You bend forward to lean your head on his shoulder and wrap your hands around his bicep. Ignoring the sensation of your stomach flipping, you peer up at him with your best puppy dog eyes.

"Pleaaaaaase," you whine. "Tell meeee."

He laughs again and drops his head toward you.

"You're gonna think I'm pathetic, but I sort of...well, I used to sort of be in love with you a little."

You cackle, assuming he's playing a joke on you.

"Yeah...right."

"No, I'm serious."

You quirk an eyebrow.

"Mhm, this coming from the same boy who refused to kiss me when I asked him to on the playground. You remember, don't you?"

His eyes go wide, and he points accusingly at you.

"You mean when you assaulted me?"

You gasp, shrieking and grabbing onto his hand.

"I did not! I did not assault you. We were playing tag, and you got me out. And I was sooo mad. I hugged you tight and said I wouldn't let you go until you made up for it by giving me a kiss."

"Yeah...and then you physically grabbed my face and made me do it."

"You still did it!"

"Of course I did it. I wanted to kiss you, I was just embarrassed."

You shake your head, folding your arms over your chest to fake pout. A few moments of comfortable silence pass, during which you decide to poke the bear a little more.

"I don't appreciate you making fun of me, though," you say. "I thought you had something serious to share."

He looks at you, smile dropping.

"Oh, I am serious."

Your grin falters, and you sit up straighter.

"What?"

"I wasn't joking, Y/N. I was being serious. I think I was sort of in love with you. For a long time, actually."

You can't help yourself—a laugh slips from your lips. A second after, you gasp and cover your mouth with your hand. You can feel burning spreading through your face and neck.

"See! I knew you would laugh! This is why I didn't wanna tell you."

"That's because it's ridiculous," you say, unsure if you're trying to convince him or yourself.

"Well, don't even worry about it," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "I'm not anymore, so we're all good."

Your heart drops. Why did you say that? Why did you make fun of him? He gave you the absolute perfect opportunity to tell him how you really feel, how you've really felt all these years. And you absolutely threw it away like trash. Then again, he just admitted he's not in love with you anymore...you wonder what happened to change his mind. Maybe it's for the best that you don't say anything.

"Why would you be in love with me, anyway?" you reply. "I'm just a regular person."

"What? What do you mean? Why wouldn't I? It makes perfect sense when you think about it."

"How so?"

"We've been friends for so many years. We understand each other better than anyone. We make each other laugh. Besides that, you're kind and funny and smart. And, of course, you're beautiful."

Your heart is pounding in your chest now. Hearing him call you all of those wonderful things and the way he thinks of you, how much you mean to him—you've been dreaming of hearing that for years. But you want him to mean it. You need him to mean it.

"Oh...I guess it does kind of make sense."

The corner of Yeosang's mouth quirks up but flattens back down a moment later. You both drop your heads and silence settles between you. The tension and awkwardness grow with every passing second. You gulp and sneak a peek at him. He's absentmindedly playing with his fingers. The veins in his hands flex with every movement, and your stomach churns in response.

"A you sure?" you blurt, pasting a mischievous smirk on your face.

"Hm?"

"Are you absolutely, positively sure that you're over me?"

He looks at you, eyes widened. He hesitates for a moment, his gaze searching yours.

"Yeah, I-I think so."

"Hmmm, I'm not convinced. Maybe we should...I don't know...test it?"

Yeosang straightens, tossing his head to shake his hair from his eyes. His stare is glued to you.

"How would we do that?"

"Oh, I have an idea."

Your heart races as you position yourself across from him. You sit on your knees, your gaze flicking between Yeosang's eyes and lips. You start to shift forward, bracing yourself by putting your hands on his thighs. His chest rises and falls rapidly. Gulping, you tilt your head.

You pause right in front of him, your eyes rolling to the side to meet his. Your breath shakes. Under the soft glow of the lamp, you can see that his eyes are dilated. You drop your stare down to his parted lips and lean forward slowly.

Yeosang remains still as a statue when you press your mouth to his. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, the muffled sound of your racing heart echoing in your ears. When you pull back, your gaze returns to his. He holds your stare for a moment and then it all moves so fast.

His eyes drop to your lips, his hand slides across your neck and onto the back of your head, and the next thing you know, he's pulling your mouth to him.

He kisses you. Hard.

Your fingers dig into his strong thighs as you teeter forward. He angles his head to reach you deeper, his lips slipping between yours over and over and over again. Carried away by the moment, you swipe your tongue over his lower lip. He chuckles into your mouth, the sound low and gravelly. Goosebumps raise on your skin. He opens his mouth for you, and his free hand wraps around your arm.

You yelp when he jerks you forward. Your chest hits his with a thud. His hands are quick to curve around the backs of your thighs, maneuvering you onto his lap. Now straddling him, you wrap your greedy little fingers around his biceps.

He tilts his head back, giving you a different angle to taste him. You drop your hips, sitting yourself on top of his body. His fingertips dig into your thighs, creeping closer and closer to your ass.

You slide your hands under the hem of his shirt, frantically tugging it upward. He lifts his arms, and you pull it off. You bite your lip at the sight of him, skin smooth and muscled. Your hands move to his body like a magnet, and you whimper as you run your touch over his chest and stomach.

His lips attach to your jaw, trailing down to your neck with hot, open-mouthed kisses. Your head falls back, mouth dropping open shamelessly. One of his hands slides onto your back to support you while he attacks your throat. His tongue licks stripes over your skin. He pulls at the hem of your shirt, shoving it aside to reveal part of your shoulder. A moan escapes your lips as he sucks on the sensitive spot where your neck and shoulder meet. You can't help your hips as they shift on him. He grunts, his lips slipping from your neck.

Your eyes flash open, meeting his immediately. His chest heaves as he looks up at you, eyes blown wide.

"I thought I was over this—over you,” Yeosang says, voice rasped. He smirks. "But I'm not."

He surges forward, flipping you so that you're on your back on the floor with him on top of you. You instinctually wrap your legs around his waist to draw him closer. He responds by resuming his work on your neck.

You obediently tilt your head to the side to give him unrestricted access to your skin. Your touch snakes onto his back, fingertips tracing the chords of his muscles as his body expertly shifts above you. One of his hands slips onto the outside of your thigh, holding your leg against his hip.

"I'm in love with you, too," you blurt, out of breath. "I think I've always loved you. When I made you kiss me on the playground...since then. Every hour of every day."

He chuckles, the sound vibrating with heat against your neck.

"The kiss was that good, huh?"

You giggle, punching his arm, but inhale sharply when he catches your skin between his teeth. Your palms greedily slide over his skin in response.

"You've gotten a little better since then," you say teasingly. "And bigger."

He laughs again, freeing your neck. He braces himself on one arm as he looks down at you. You squirm underneath him as his glazed-over eyes size you up.

"Is this real?" he mutters.

"What? What do you mean?"

"I've dreamed about this for years, wondering what it would feel like."

"What what would feel like?"

"Loving you fully. Having you love me back. It doesn't feel possible."

Your heart aches, swelling with affection. You reach up to cup his cheek, tucking his hair behind his ear.

"It's real, Sangie. From now on, as long as you love me, I'll love you back. I promise. Do you promise, too?"

You hold your hand out, pinky outstretched. He chuckles but hooks his finger in yours. You curl your digits together, interlocking them firmly.

"Promise."

taglist: //

[importantpuppystarfish]

Unexpectedly ate with the most delicious Kim Minji..

Male reader (grandfather) x Minji (granddaughter)

!Male reader = grandfather

Kinks: Taboo & Incest (w/grandpa), huge gap gap, pussy eating, pissing, asshole licking, armpits licking, lots of kissings and romance & anal..

Minji, an 18-year-old K-pop idol, is the darling of millions, her princess-like beauty making her a global obsession. her agency’s managers have crafted a stage persona that’s pure sex: her choreography is a parade of hip thrusts, body rolls, and skimpy outfits that leave little to the imagination. On stage, Minji’s a brat, all smirks and teasing glances, her dances dripping with slutty energy—though she’s only following orders by made the dance moves. Offstage, she sometimes flirting shamelessly with fans, in live streams she flirts and says sexual stuff, also and pushing boundaries to feel alive amidst her controlled idol life.

Her grandfather, a 62-year-old is the family’s rock.. He's still strong and healthy. He lives in a sprawling countryside estate, a world away from Minji’s neon-lit Seoul. He’s always adored Minji, his only granddaughter. He's not like an old ass who can't walk. He's still young and strong despite his age.. Very fit enough to still work like in his prime.

The grandfather sees Minji as his legacy, the dazzling star who carries his bloodline’s beauty.. But her bratty attitude and slutty stage performances—clips he’s seen online, her thong peeking out during a twerk—alarm him. He fears she’s on a path to becoming a “public slut,” her innocence corrupted by fame’s machine. Yet, this fear twists into obsession: her provocative dances awaken his long-dormant desires, her body is a forbidden fruit he wants to both save and devour. He’s torn between guiding her back to “purity” and indulging the filthy urge to claim her himself.

Currently Minji is at her home. Her parents has planned to go to village for work, so since minji cant be alone, her parents called her grandpa for protection and support since Minji can't be lonely alone in a dark house.

Minji practices her daily dance practice in her own living room.

Her body’s is slick with sweat from an impromptu dance practice, she’s been perfecting that slutty choreography where she shakes her ass and all hip rolls, her tiny outfit clinging to her curves. She’s wearing a white crop top that hugs her perky tits, the hem barely covering her underboob, and high-waisted jeans that sit low enough to flash the band of her Calvin Klein thong. Her toned midriff glistens, her long black hair sticking to her neck, and she smells like a mix of sweet perfume and raw sexy sweat.

A sharp knock arrives to the door ... “Coming!” she says, her voice kinda loud but sweet, as she hops up, her bare feet slapping the hardwood floor. She swings the door open, and there he is—her grandfather, standing tall in a crisp button-up and slacks, his silver hair catching the hallway light, his sharp eyes locking onto her like a hawk. It’s been months since they last saw each other, and the sight of him sends a flutter through her chest. “Grandpa!” she squeals, genuine joy in her tone, though her body language screams something dirtier as she throws herself into his arms.

The hug is electric, a collision of familial love and forbidden heat. During the hug, Minji presses herself against him, her sweat-slicked skin sticking to his shirt, her tits squishing against his broad chest. Her arms wrap around his neck, these aren't intention, it's just because of actual love and they have done these hugs before.

He sets his bag down, his eyes glued to her as Minji’s outfit is exposing a lot of skin. Its a barely-there outfit—a white crop top clinging to her sweat-slicked chest, high-waisted jeans flashing her Calvin Klein thong—makes his throat tighten as we've seen. He shakes his head, trying to focus. She’s his granddaughter, for fuck’s sake. But the way she moves, so carefree and bratty, stirs something dark in him—a hunger he hasn’t felt in years.

Minji steps back, brushing her hair behind her ear, oblivious to the storm in his head. “It’s been forever, Grandpa,” she says, her voice light, a genuine smile on her lips. “How was the drive? You look tired.” She gestures toward the living room, her bare feet padding across the hardwood as she leads him to the couch. She’s not trying to seduce him—her mind’s on their reunion, her affection for him pure—but her natural energy, that bratty, confident sway in her hips, makes it hard for him to look away.

“Long drive,” he grunts, settling onto the couch, his eyes flicking to her exposed midriff before he forces them to her face. “You’ve been keeping busy, I bet. All that dancing and… stuff.” His tone carries a hint of disapproval, but he keeps it casual, not wanting to start a lecture yet. He leans back, trying to relax, but his mind keeps replaying her latest performance video where her ass is bouncing on stage, her smirk teasing the crowd.

Minji sits down beside him, tucking her legs under her, her crop top riding up just enough to show more skin. “Yeah, it’s been crazy,” she sighs, stretching her arms above her head, her abs flexing. “The tour’s killing me, but I’m on a break now, thank God. Oh—have you eaten? I was gonna make some ramen. I’m starving!”

She hops up without waiting for an answer as she heads to the kitchen, leaving him with a view of her backside that makes his mouth go dry.

“Go ahead,” he calls after her, his voice gruff. He watches her disappear into the kitchen, then leans forward, rubbing his face. He shouldn’t be thinking about her like this.. But her sweaty, perfect body, the way her ass looked in those jeans.

But as he hears her cooking noises, the clatter of pots and pans filling the apartment, he can’t resist. He stands quietly, moving to the kitchen doorway, his eyes narrowing as he peeks at her. Minji’s bent over the counter, reaching for a spice jar, her crop top lifting to expose the curve of her lower back, her thong peeking out above her jeans.

Her tirs and ass are a fucking masterpiece, round and firm, and he feels a primal hunger stir—God, he wants to bury his face in her asshole and eat off her tits.. Like taste her, make her squirm. His cock twitches, shame and lust warring in his chest as he grips the doorframe, forcing himself to stay still.

Minji feels a prickle on the back of her neck, like someone’s watching, but she brushes it off. Probably nothing, she thinks, focusing on the boiling water. She’s too caught up in her task to notice her grandfather’s hungry stare, his eyes tracing every inch of her exposed skin. She tosses the noodles into the pot, her movements casual and sensual. She’s not thinking about him that way, not consciously, but there’s a tension in her body she can’t quite place, a heat that’s been building since their hug.

A few minutes later, she carries two steaming bowls of ramen to the dining table, setting them down with a proud grin. “Ta-da! Not bad, right?” she says, sitting across from him, her crop top shifting to reveal the underside of her breasts for a split second before she adjusts it. She’s oblivious to the effect she’s having, her focus on the food, but her grandfather’s eyes catch every detail, his appetite for her growing stronger than his hunger for the meal.

They eat in comfortable silence for a moment, the clink of chopsticks filling the space.. “Minji, are you tired?".. "Ah yes Grandpa, sometimes due to excessive loads of work, but its normal for me now". She replies.

" I saw your last performance online,” he starts, setting his chopsticks down. “That dancing… it’s too much. All that shaking and showing off—it’s not right. You’re better than that.” His words are measured.

Minji sighs, “I don’t really have a choice, Grandpa,” she says, her voice softer now, less bratty. “The agency decide everything—my outfits, my moves. They want me to be… sexy, I guess. It’s not like I love it, but it’s my job.” She shrugs, taking a bite, her lips glossy with broth. She doesn’t notice the way his gaze flicks to her mouth, his mind imagining those lips elsewhere.

He leans back, his eyes narrowing slightly, a new curiosity sparking. “Doesn’t it bother you, though?” he asks, his voice lower, more probing. “All those people watching you, sexualizing you… Have you ever felt that way yourself? You know… been with someone?” He keeps his tone casual, but there’s a weight to the question..he waits for her answer.

Minji pauses, her cheeks flushing slightly, she smiles and laughs a little. “No, actually,” she admits, looking down at her bowl. “I’m… I’ve never done anything. I’m a virgin.” She glances up at him, her eyes wide, a mix of embarrassment and humour in her expression. “I mean, I’ve thought about it, you know? I kinda want to try… see what it’s like. But I haven’t.” Her voice is honest, a little shy, the bratty edge softened by her vulnerability.

He blinks, genuinely surprised,. “Wait, really?” he says, his tone lighter now, almost disbelieving. “I thought for sure you’d have… well, with the way you move on stage, I figured you’d already done it!” He shakes his head, a mix of relief and pride washing over him. His little Minji, still innocent despite her slutty persona—it makes him want to protect her even more, though the thought of her “trying” sex sends a jolt straight to his groin.

Minji bursts out laughing, the sound bright and genuine.

“Grandpa, come on!” she says, grinning at him. “Just ‘cause I dance like that doesn’t mean I’m out there doing it."

"Besides, you’ve already done it, right? I mean, that’s why I’m even here!” She gestures to herself, her laugh turning playful, her eyes sparkling with humor.

She’s teasing him now, but not in a sexual way—just her natural, bratty charm shining through.

He laughs too, a deep, warm sound, his chest swelling with pride at her maturity. “You’ve got a point there,” he says, his smile softening as he looks at her. “Smart girl. You’ve grown up so much.”. He shifts in his seat, leaning closer, his voice dropping slightly. “You haven't even tounched any guys of your age??” His tone is gentle..

Minji shakes her head, her laughter fading into a shy smile. “Nope, not even that,, leave kissing!” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know, I know—I’m all innocent, but then I go out there and dance like a total brat. It’s weird, right?” She giggles, her cheeks pink, her crop top shifting again as she leans forward, giving him another glimpse of her midriff. “I do wonder what it feels like, though. Kissing, I mean.”

"You’re too pure for your own good,” he murmurs. “Dancing like that in public, but never even kissed… my little Minji.” His hand moves slowly, brushing against hers on the table..Minji senses something’s about to happen, a nervous excitement fluttering in her chest, but she doesn’t pull away.

Their faces are inches apart now..

Minji bites her lip, her voice barely a whisper as she breaks the silence. “Btw, Grandpa… I think its time to try already,” she says, her tone a mix of frustration and longing.

“My group members, Hanni, Daniellie, Haerin—they’ve all done it already, with their boyfriends. You know, kissing, and… more. I can’t handle being the only one left out.” - Minji says.

Her cheeks flush, her vulnerability raw, but there’s a spark of determination in her eyes. She’s tired of being the innocent one, her bratty, curious side itching to catch up, even if it’s in the most forbidden way possible. Her grandpa smiles but before he can respond, she leans forward, her breath hitching, and presses her lips to his, initiating the kiss with a boldness that catches him off guard.

As they kiss, the grandfather’s mouth, at 62, isn’t fresh; his breath carries the faint tang of whiskey from the drive, mixed with the earthy, slightly stale taste of age, his lips rough and chapped from years of hard living. His tongue, when it slips into her mouth, is thick, a little clumsy, the texture rougher than a younger man’s, with a hint of bitterness that comes with his years. But to Minji, it’s her first kiss, and the sheer wrongness of it—kissing her own grandfather—makes it thrilling, the roughness of his mouth a strange contrast to her softness.

For the grandfather, Minji’s mouth is a fucking revelation and heaven!!! A total paradise he didn’t know existed. Her lips are plush, yummy, pinkish, and so goddamn soft, like biting into the ripest fruit. Her breath smells sweet, a mix of mint gum and the faintest hint of her sweat, that sexy, musky scent that’s been driving him wild all evening. When her tongue shyly meets his, it’s a burst of flavor—her saliva is young, fresh, and fucking delicious, a watery sweetness that makes his head spin. It’s better than anything he’s ever tasted, better than the finest wine, better than the women of his youth. Her mouth is so yummy, so alive, the warmth of it making him groan into the kiss, his cock hardening painfully in his slacks as he drinks her in.

Their kiss deepens, turning wet and sloppy, a mouthful of watery freshness as their tongues tangle, exchanging saliva in a messy, primal dance. Minji’s tongue is tentative at first, exploring his roughness, but she soon matches his rhythm, her youthful energy pouring into the kiss. The grandfather’s hands slide to her neck, pulling her closer, his fingers tangling in her sweaty hair as he devours her, sucking on her tongue like it’s candy, savoring every drop of her delicious spit. He can’t get enough, his arousal skyrocketing as he feels her soft moans vibrate against his lips, her scent—sweet, sweaty, and so fucking young filling his senses. His erection strains against his trousers.

Minji’s mind is a whirlwind, the kiss overwhelming her senses. She didn’t expect it to be so intense, so wet, his aged mouth is strange but thrilling contrast to her untouched lips. She can taste the whiskey on him, the roughness of his tongue making her shiver, but it’s the heat of the moment, the forbidden rush of kissing her grandfather, that makes her lean in harder, her hands gripping his shirt.

Minji pulls back from the kiss, her lips swollen and glossy, her chest heaving as she catches her breath. The grandfather’s eyes are dark, almost feral, his erection throbbing painfully in his slacks. Her taste lingers on his tongue—sweet, fresh, and so fucking delicious, like a drug he can’t get enough of.

Their dinner sits forgotten on the table, the ramen growing cold, but his hunger has shifted entirely to her. He’s starving, not for food, but for Minji—her body, her skin, her everything. The taboo of their blood tie, the fact that she’s his granddaughter, only makes the craving worse.

“Minji,” he rasps, his voice low and rough, his hands trembling as he grip her shoulders. “You’re… fuck, you’re too much.” He doesn’t give her time to respond, his hunger taking over as he pulls her closer, his lips crashing against her neck. Her skin is warm, slick with sweat from her earlier dance practice and cooking in hear, and he groans at the taste—salty, sweet, and so goddamn young.. Minji gasps, her hands clutching his shirt, her body tensing at the unfamiliar sensation, her first taste of being touched like this.

He pulls back just enough to look at her, his eyes raking over her exposed midriff, the white crop top barely covering her perky tits. “Been wanting to do this since you opened the door,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust, a dark chuckle escaping him. His hands slide under her top, pushing it up to reveal her breasts—small, perfect, with pink nipples already hardening in the cool air. “Fuck, look at these,” he growls, his mouth watering as he cups them, his rough thumbs brushing over her nipples, making her shiver. He’s hungry, so fucking hungry, and her body is a feast laid out just for him.

Minji’s breath hitches, her eyes wide, a mix of shock and curiosity swirling in her chest. She’s never been touched like this, never felt a man’s hands on her bare skin, and the fact that it’s her grandfather makes it all the more trustable. “Grandpa…” she whispers, her voice trembling, not with fear but with the sheer intensity of the moment. She doesn’t pull away, her body responding despite her racing mind.

He doesn’t hesitate, his hunger too strong to resist. He leans down, his lips wrapping around one of her nipples, sucking hard, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. Her taste explodes in his mouth—fresh, faintly sweet, her skin so soft it’s like sucking on silk. He groans against her, the sound muffled, his cock throbbing harder as he feasts on her. His other hand kneads her other breast, his fingers rough against her smoothness, pinching her nipple just enough to make her squeak. He pulls back for a moment, her nipple glistening with his spit, and he licks his lips, savoring her flavor. “So fucking delicious,” he mutters, his voice hoarse, before diving back in, sucking harder, his teeth grazing her lightly, leaving faint red marks on her pale skin.

Minji’s head tips back, a soft moan escaping her lips, her hands gripping his shoulders for support. She can feel his age in the way he moves, his lips chapped, his breath hot and slightly stale.

The grandfather’s hunger doesn’t stop at her breasts. He pulls back, his lips shiny with spit, and trails his mouth down her exposed stomach, licking and sucking at her sweaty skin. Her abs flex under his tongue, the salty tang of her sweat mixing with the natural sweetness of her body, driving him wild.

Next, His gaze shifts to her arms, raised slightly as she grips the table for support, and he notices the faint sheen of sweat under her armpit, exposed by her sleeveless crop top. It’s juicy, glistening, the skin there a little darker from her dance practice, the hair shaved but a faint stubble adding to the raw, primal allure. “Fuck, look at that,” he mutters, his voice thick with lust, a dark grin spreading across his face.

He grabs her wrist, lifting her arm higher, exposing her armpit fully, the scent hitting him immediately—musky, sweaty, and so fucking nasty. It’s disgusting in the most delicious way, the kind of nasty that makes his mouth water, his cock leaking pre-cum into his slacks.

“Grandpa, what are you—” Minji starts, her voice shaky, but her words cut off as he dives in, his aged lips pressing against her armpit, his tongue flattening against the sweaty skin. He licks hard, dragging his rough tongue across the juicy, watery surface, drinking in her sweat like it’s the finest liquor. The taste is filthy—salty, tangy, with a bitter edge from her exertion, the kind of dirty that should repulse him but instead drives him wild. “So fucking nasty,” he growls against her skin, his voice muffled, his lips sucking at the tender flesh, pulling more of her sweaty juices into his mouth.

“Your armpits, Minji… disgusting little pits, but fuck, they’re delicious. My granddaughter’s sweaty, juicy mess—better than anything.” His praise is crude and depraved

“Oh… Grandpa…” she moans, her voice trembling with a mix of love and arousal, her head tipping back as she surrenders to the feeling. It’s nasty, so fucking nasty that her armpits are getting licked, but she likes it, the taboo thrill of her grandfather worshipping such a dirty part of her making her pussy throb.

Her moans grow louder, soft and breathy, her love for him growing as she grips his hair, pulling him closer without even realizing it. “Feels… so good,” she whimpers

He pulls back for a moment, his lips shiny with her armpit juicy sweats which he just ate,. “You like that, huh?” he chuckles darkly, his eyes gleaming with lust. “My little Minji, moaning for her grandpa’s tongue in her filthy pits.” He doesn’t wait for her response, diving back in, sucking harder, his tongue lapping at every drop of her sweaty juices, the watery, tangy taste making him groan. His hands grip her hips, keeping her steady as he feasts, his cock so hard it hurts, the taboo of it—drinking from his granddaughter’s armpit juices—pushing him to new heights of depravity.

After a few more greedy licks, he pulls back, his breath hot and ragged. He can’t resist her lips again, the memory of their first kiss still burning in his mind. He grabs her face, pulling her into another kiss, his lips crashing against hers again with a wet, desperate edge. Their tongues tangle immediately, the kiss is sloppy again and a mouthful of watery freshness as they exchange saliva once more. Her mouth is still fucking delicious—sweet, youthful, her saliva is like a burst of candy.

Minji moans into the kiss,“Grandpa… love you,” she murmurs against his lips, her voice a soft, breathy moan, her innocence and affection bleeding into the nasty act. She’s lost in the kiss, her tongue moving with his, her body pressing closer, her sweaty scent filling the air.

He pulls back just enough to speak, his lips brushing hers, his voice a low growl. “Love you too, princess,” he says, his tone thick with lust and affection... “My dirty little girl… those nasty pits, that yummy fucking mouth… you’re a goddamn feast.” His words are crude, his praise a mix of love and depravity. He dives back into the kiss, his tongue dominating hers, his cock aching as he loses himself in her, the grandfather devouring his granddaughter in the most forbidden way.

The grandfather pulls back from their sloppy, tongue-heavy kiss, his lips glistening with Minji’s sweet saliva, his breath ragged as he stares at her. Her sweaty, half-naked body—crop top pushed up, jeans low on her hips, her armpits still wet from his tongue—drives him to the edge of sanity.

“Minji,” he growls, his voice low and guttural, his hands sliding to her jeans, fingers fumbling with the button. “I need more of you… all of you.” His words are thick with lust, his aged eyes dark with a primal need as he yanks her jeans down, pulling them off her legs in one rough motion. Now Minji is just in her underwear thong.

His eyes lock onto the Calvin Klein underwear thong he pulled.

He brings the expensive CalvinKlein underwear to his nose, inhaling deeply, the scent of her pussy hitting him like a drug. It’s musky, tangy, and so fucking dirty—"Goddamn, Minji,” he growls, his voice thick with desire, his eyes half-lidded as he takes another deep sniff. “Your dirty little panties… smell so fucking good. My granddaughter’s pussy, so ripe and filthy.” . He presses the thong to his face, rubbing it against his lips, tasting the faint remnants of her juices, his groans muffled as he loses himself in her scent.

Now, her pussy throbs under his gaze.

It’s fucking perfect—Minji's pussy is pink, glistening, untouched. Her pussy lips are slick with her juices, her clit peeking out, begging for attention, and he can’t hold back. “So fucking pretty,” he growls, his aged lips curling into a dark smirk, his hands spreading her thighs wider. He dives in, his rough tongue flattening against her pussy, licking a long, slow stripe from her entrance to her clit, tasting her for the first time.

The flavor explodes on his tongue, its sweet and tangy, her juices fresh and so fucking youthful, better than anything he’s ever tasted. It’s like drinking nectar..His aged mouth, chapped and rough, moves greedily, sucking on her pussy, his tongue dipping into her entrance to lap up every drop of her wetness. “Fuck, Minji,” he mutters against her, his voice muffled, his lips shiny with her juices. “Your pussy… so goddamn delicious. My granddaughter’s tight little cunt… never tasted anything so good.”

Minji’s head tips back, a loud moan escaping her lips as the sensation hits her like a tidal wave. “Oh… Grandpa!” she gasps, her voice a mix of shock and pleasure, her hands flying to his hair, gripping the silver strands as her body trembles. She’s never felt anything like this—his rough tongue, the wet suction, the way he’s devouring her like she’s a meal.. “Feels… so… good,” she whimpers.

He growls into her, his hands gripping her thighs hard enough to leave marks, his mouth working her pussy with a hunger as he sucks on her clit, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud, making her hips buck against his face. Her juices coat his lips, his chin, dripping down as he drinks her in, the wet, slurping sounds filling the room, a nasty soundtrack to their taboo act.

Minji’s moans grow louder, her body shaking as the pleasure builds, her pussy clenching around nothing as his tongue works her over. “Grandpa… I… I can’t….. I love you..” she gasps, her voice trembling, her love for him mixing..

As he's eating her pussy like a beast, Minji feels something is coming out of her pussy.

She bites her lip, her voice shaky as she speaks. “Grandpa… I… I need to-- pee…” Before she can finish, the urge overtakes her, and she lets go, a warm stream of piss gushing from her pussy, splashing onto his mouth & face. The golden liquid soaks his face, shirt, dripping down his torso.

Minji’s eyes widen in shock, but as she sees the way he reacts—his groan of pleasure, his hands gripping her thighs tighter—she feels a rush of arousal, the taboo of pissing on her grandfather making her heart race. “I love you, Grandpa,” she moans, her voice soft and breathy, her love for him pouring out in the midst of the nasty act. “I really mean it... ” She’s overwhelmed, her body trembling, but she loves the intimacy of it, the way he’s accepting every part of her, even something so dirty.

The grandfather’s eyes light up, his arousal hitting a new peak as her piss soaks him, the warmth of it seeping into his skin. “Fuck, yes,” he growls, his voice a mix of lust and adoration, his hands sliding up her thighs to her hips, pulling her closer. “My dirty little girl… pissing on your grandpa like a fucking slut. I love it.”

Minji’s moans turn softer, her body relaxing as the last of her piss drips out and her grandpa swallows it, her love for him grows more higher with her senses. She reaches for him, her hands trembling, and pulls him up, her need for closeness taking over. “Grandpa… hold me,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion, her eyes shining with love and vulnerability. He stands, the scent of her piss and arousal clinging to him, and pulls her into a tight hug, their bodies pressed together in a messy, loving embrace.

He wraps his arms around her, his hands sliding to her bare back, gripping her tightly as he buries his face in her hair. “I love you too, princess,” he murmurs, his voice rough but tender, his cock still hard against her stomach as they hug. Minji clings to him, her arms around his neck, her face pressed to his shoulder, her breaths shaky but full of love.

They stay like that for a long moment, hugging tightly, their bodies pressed together, the scent of her piss and sweat mingling in the air. The grandfather’s hands move slowly, caressing her bare skin, his love for her evident in every touch, while Minji melts into him.

They kiss for what feels like forever, their lips moving in a desperate, loving rhythm, exchanging watery saliva in a messy tongue dance. Minji pulls back slightly, her breath shaky, her cheeks flushed as she looks into his eyes. “Grandpa… I’ve never felt like this before,” she whispers, her voice trembling with emotion, her love for him raw and unfiltered. “I didn’t know it could be… like this. So… intense.” She bites her lip, her body still buzzing from their earlier acts.

He chuckles softly, “You’re just starting to feel it, princess,” he says, "There’s so much more… so much I wanna show you.” He pauses, his eyes darkening with desire as he glances down at her exposed pussy, still glistening from his tongue. “You liked me tasting you, didn’t you? My little Minji… letting her grandpa eat her sweet little cunt.”.

Minji blushes, a shy smile tugging at her lips, her hands still resting on his chest. “Yeah… I did,” she admits, her voice soft, “It felt so good… I didn’t know it could feel like that.” She pauses, her curiosity taking over, her bratty side peeking through. “Can… can we do more? I wanna feel it again.” Her words are innocent but bold, her love for him driving her to explore further.

“Oh, we’re gonna do more,” he growls, his voice thick with lust, his hunger for her reigniting. “I want you on my face, Minji. Wanna taste you deeper… let you ride your grandpa’s tongue.”..he guides her off the table, lying back on the floor, the hardwood cool against his back as he positions himself beneath her.

Minji hesitates for a moment, her heart racing, but the look in his eyes—lustful, loving, commanding—makes her move. She straddles his face, her knees on either side of his head, her pussy hovering inches above his mouth. Her scent hits him immediately.. “Fuck, yes,” he groans, his hands gripping her thighs, pulling her down until her pussy presses against his lips...

Now the facesitting starts, He dives in, his rough tongue lapping at her clit, sucking on her lips, his mouth devouring her with a hunger that borders on feral.

Minji gasps, her hands gripping his hair, her hips moving on their own as she grinds against his face. “Grandpa… oh my God…” she moans, her voice a mix of love and pleasure, her body trembling as the sensation overwhelms her.

His tongue fucks into her pussy hole, lapping up every drop of her wetness, his nose pressed against her clit, breathing in her scent as he eats her out. She’s riding his face now, her movements clumsy but eager, her pussy soaking his mouth, the wet, slurping sounds filling the room. The taboo of it—sitting on her grandfather’s face, letting him devour her—makes her moan louder, her love for him pouring out in every sound.

The grandfather’s cock throbs harder, his face buried in her pussy, his hands squeezing her ass as he pulls her closer, his tongue relentless. But then, he feels her body tense, a familiar pressure building, and he knows what’s coming. Minji's about to piss again, she can't control her body..

“Do it, Minji,” he growls against her, his voice muffled, his lips still sucking on her clit. “Piss for me again… let your grandpa drink you.” His words are depraved, and Minji lets it go, she screams, a warm stream of piss gushing from her pussy, splashing into his mouth.

He opens his mouth wide, swallowing her piss greedily, the sharp, pungent taste mixing with her juices as he drinks her down. It’s nasty, so fucking nasty, but he loves it, the taboo of swallowing his granddaughter’s piss making his cock ache, pre-cum soaking his slacks. “Fuck, yes,” he groans, his voice garbled as he gulps, her piss dripping down his chin, soaking his chest. “So fucking good… my dirty little girl.” He keeps licking, his tongue lapping at her pussy as she pisses, the combination of her juices and piss a filthy cocktail that drives him wild.

Minji moans louder, her body trembling as she pisses into his mouth, the sensation of him drinking her sending a new wave of arousal through her. “I love you, Grandpa,” she gasps, her voice thick with emotion, her hips still grinding against his face. “I love you so much… feels so good…”

He pulls her off his face, his lips and chin dripping with her piss and juices, his breath ragged as he looks up at her, his eyes burning with love and lust. “I love you too, princess,” he rasps, his voice hoarse, his hands pulling her down into another tight hug. They collapse together on the floor, their bodies pressed close.

By now, he has tasted her pussy, her armpits, her piss, but his hunger for her—his own granddaughter—knows no bounds, and there’s one place he hasn’t claimed yet, the most forbidden part of her body.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes dark with lust. “Minji,” he rasps, his voice low and gravelly, his hands sliding to her hips, gripping her tightly.

Minji’s breath hitches, her body trembling as she feels the cool air on her naked skin, her position making her feel vulnerable in a way she hasn’t before. “Grandpa… where are you going…” she starts, her voice shaky, a mix of nervousness and curiosity in her tone. She glances back at him, her long black hair falling over her shoulder, her eyes wide with innocence, but she doesn’t pull away, her trust in him and the forbidden thrill of their acts keeping her in place.

He doesn’t answer with words. He spreads her ass cheeks with his rough hands, exposing her asshole fully, the tight, pink ring a stark contrast to the glistening wetness of her pussy just below. The scent hits him immediately, which is musky, earthy, a faint trace of her sweat and piss mixing with the raw, primal smell of her ass, the kind of nasty that makes his cock throb harder in his slacks. “Fuck, look at that,” he growls, his voice thick with lust, his thumbs rubbing circles on her cheeks as he takes in the sight. “My granddaughter’s perfect little asshole… its soo tight af and so fucking dirty, just for me.”

He starts eating and putting his tongue whole full inside Minji's shithole now..

The taste is filthy—bitter, earthy, with a tang of her sweat, the kind of nasty that should repulse him but instead drives him wild. He groans against her, the sound vibrating against her sensitive skin, his tongue lapping at her asshole with a hunger that borders on feral. “So fucking good,” he mutters, his voice muffled, his lips sucking on the tight shithole, pulling at the tender flesh as he feasts.

Minji gasps, her body tensing at the unfamiliar sensation, her hands gripping the floor as a soft moan escapes her lips. “Grandpa… oh my… that feels…soo good” she whimpers, her voice trembling with a mix of shock and pleasure, lt feels good in a way she didn’t expect—his rough tongue, the wet suction, the way he’s devouring her most private place. “Feels… so weird… but good,” she moans, her voice soft and breathy, her love for him mixing with the arousal coursing through her. she can’t help but push her ass back against his face, her body responding despite her racing mind.

He growls into her, his hands spreading her cheeks wider, his mouth fully eating her asshole with relentless hunger. His tongue fucks into her tight hole, pushing past the resistance, the bitter taste of her ass mixing with the faint sweetness of her sweat, driving him wild. He sucks harder, his lips pulling at her hole, his nose pressed against near the shithole areas, breathing in her scent as he feasts. “Fuck, Minji,” he groans, his voice garbled, his face buried in her ass. “Your asshole… so goddamn filthy, so fucking delicious. My little granddaughter… letting me eat her dirty little hole.” His words are crude, his praise dripping with depravity, but there’s a twisted affection in his tone, his love for her making the act feel intimate in the most perverse way.

Minji’s moans grow louder, her body trembling as the pleasure builds, her asshole clenching around his tongue, the sensation pushing her to the edge. “Grandpa… I… I love you,” she gasps, her voice thick with emotion, her love for him pouring out in the midst of the nasty act. She’s overwhelmed, the taboo of her own grandfather eating her ass—his tongue in her most private place—minji body shakes.

The grandfather’s face is still buried between Minji’s ass cheeks, his aged tongue lapping at her tight shithole. Her soft moans fill the room, her body trembling on her hands and knees....

He pulls back for a moment, his lips shiny with her juices, his breath hot and ragged as he looks at her perfect ass, the tight circle of her asshole glistening from his tongue.

“Minji, my sweet girl,” he rasps, his voice low and gravelly, but there’s a tenderness in his tone, a love that cuts through the depravity. “You’re so fucking beautiful… every part of you. Even this dirty little hole… its my life, you know that?.” He leans in again, his rough tongue swirling around her asshole, sucking on the tender flesh with a hunger that’s both primal and adoring, his groans vibrating against her skin.

Minji’s moans turn softer but loud, her body trembling as the sensation overwhelms her, but his words—his love—make her heart swell, her love for him pouring out in response.

“Grandpa… I love you so much,” she whimpers, her voice thick with emotion, her hands gripping the floor as she pushes her ass back against his face. “No one’s ever… loved me like this… made me feel so… so special.” Her words are a mix of innocence and arousal, her love for him so deep that the taboo act—her grandfather eating her ass—feels like the ultimate expression of their bond. She giggles suddenly, a light, breathy sound that cuts through the intensity, her bratty side peeking through. “You’re really… really into my butt, huh? What’s next, Grandpa, you gonna start calling it your ‘little love muffin’ or something?”

He chuckles against her asshole, the sound muffled but genuine, his tongue pausing for a moment as he pulls back to laugh. “Love muffin, huh?” he says, his voice hoarse with lust but tinged with humor, his hands squeezing her cheeks playfully. “Fuck, Minji, you’re gonna kill me with that ass of yours… but yeah, maybe I will. My little love muffin… tastes better than any damn dessert I’ve ever had.” he dives back in, his tongue fucking into her tight hole..

Minji laughs again, her giggles turning into moans as his tongue works her asshole, the sensation sending shivers through her body. “Grandpa, you’re so lovely!” she gasps, her voice a mix of amusement and pleasure, her love for him shining through in her playful tone.

“But… I love it… I love you… feels so good…” She’s never felt so loved, so cherished, as she does in this moment—her grandfather worshipping her most private place, his love for her so deep that even the dirtiest acts feel like a romantic vow.

He sucks harder on her asshole, his lips pulling her tight shithole circle, his tongue pushing deeper, the taste of her—bitter, sweaty, so fucking filthy—making him groan into her.

“Fuck, Minji,” he mutters, his voice muffled, his face buried in her ass. “You’re my everything… my perfect little girl… this ass, this dirty fucking hole… I’d die for it, you know that? Love you so goddamn much.”

Minji’s heart swells at his words, her moans turning into soft whimpers of love, “I love you too, Grandpa… always,” She tries to push her ass more against him, her movements eager but clumsy, her love for him driving her to give him more, to let him have every part of her.

Finally, the grandfather pulls back from Minji’s ass, his lips and chin glistening with her juices, his breath heavy as he looks at her trembling form on her hands and knees. Her soft moans and declarations of love still echo in his mind, their shared laughter and deep connection making the taboo act feel like a romantic ritual between them..

Minji clings to him, “Grandpa… I love you so much,” she murmurs “but… I feel kinda bad,” she admits, her voice trembling with innocence, her bratty side giving way to vulnerability.

“You’ve been… doing all this stuff for me… making me feel so good… but I haven’t done anything for you yet.” She bites her lip, “It’s not fair… I wanna make you feel good too.”

The grandfather’s heart swells at her words, his love for her deepening even more.. “Oh, Minji,” he says, his voice rough but warm, his hands cupping her face as he looks into her eyes. “You don’t have to do anything, princess… just having you here, loving you like this… it’s more than enough.” His words are heartfelt, his love for her so deep that he’d give her the world without expecting anything in return. But the thought of her wants to please him.

Minji shakes her head, her bratty determination kicking in, a small, playful smile tugging at her lips. “No, Grandpa, I wanna do it,” she says,. “I wanna try. For you.” She pauses, her cheeks flushing deeper as she glances down at the bulge in his slacks, her eyes widening slightly. “I mean… you’ve been so hard this whole time… I can tell! It's craving something from me, right? Let me… let me help.” Her words are innocent but earnest.

He chuckles softly, “You’re too good to me, Minji,” he says, his voice low and gravelly, a playful edge to his words. “Alright, princess… if you wanna make your old grandpa feel good, I’m not gonna stop you. But don’t say I didn’t warn you—I’m a bit of a mess down there after all this!” His humor lightens the moment, his laughter rumbling in his chest, but his cock throbs harder at the thought of her mouth on him, the taboo of his granddaughter giving him a blowjob making his pulse race.

Minji giggles as she reaches for his slacks, fumbling with the zipper. “I don’t care if you’re a mess,” she says, her voice soft but teasing, her bratty side peeking through. “You’ve been… eating my butt, Grandpa! I think I can handle a little mess.” Her laughter is light and genuine. She finally gets his slacks open, pulling them down along with his boxers, his cock springing free—thick, veined, and leaking pre-cum, the scent of his arousal mixing with the faint musk of his age.

Her eyes widen at the sight,. “It’s… so big,” she whispers, her voice a mix of awe and nervousness, her cheeks flushing deeper. But her love for him drives her forward, her hands wrapping around his dick...She leans down, her long hair falling over her shoulders, and presses a soft, experimental kiss to the tip, her lips brushing against the pre-cum, the salty taste making her blink in surprise. “It’s… kinda salty,” she says, her voice curious, a small giggle escaping her as she looks up at him, her innocence making the moment both funny and deeply tender.

The grandfather groans, his hands gripping her hair gently, his head tipping back as her lips touch his cock. “Fuck, Minji,” he rasps, his voice thick with arousal, his love for her pouring out in his tone. “You’re killing me… my sweet girl… so fucking perfect.” she has her willingness to please him, makes his heart swell, his cock throbbing harder as she starts to explore him with her mouth. She takes the tip past her lips, her tongue swirling around it clumsily, her inexperience evident but her eagerness making up for it. Her mouth is warm, wet, and so fucking delicious, her saliva mixing with his pre-cum, the taste of her still lingering on his tongue as he watches her, his love for her deepening with every second.

Minji moans softly around his cock, the vibration sending a jolt through him, her hands stroking the base as she takes him deeper, her lips stretching around his thickness. She’s clumsy, her movements unsure, but her love for him drives her to keep going, her tongue lapping at the underside of his shaft, her saliva dripping down as she sucks. “Am I… doing okay, Grandpa?” she mumbles around him, her voice muffled, her eyes looking up at him with a mix of curiosity and affection..

He groans louder, his hands tightening in her hair, his hips bucking slightly as her mouth works him over. “You’re doing fucking amazing, princess,” he says, his voice hoarse with pleasure, his love for her evident in every word. “My little Minji… sucking her grandpa’s cock like a good girl… love you so fucking much.” His words are crude but heartfelt, his arousal mixing with his deep affection, the taboo of her blowjob—his granddaughter’s mouth on him—pushing him to the edge. He chuckles suddenly, a playful edge to his tone as he adds, “Careful, though… don’t want you choking on your old man’s dick..”

Minji giggles around his cock, the sound muffled but genuine, her eyes sparkling with humor as she pulls back slightly to laugh. “Grandpa, you’re so bad!” she says, her voice teasing, her lips shiny with spit and pre-cum as she strokes him with her hand. “I’m trying my best… it’s my first time, you know!” Her laughter is light and playful, their shared humor making the moment feel intimate and fun, their love for each other shining through in their banter. She dives back in, her mouth taking him deeper, her tongue swirling around his shaft, her love for him driving her to please him..

Minji pulls back from her grandfather’s cock, her lips swollen and glossy with spit and pre-cum, her breath shaky as she wipes her mouth with the back of her hand. Her long black hair is a mess, strands sticking to her sweaty forehead..

Her grandfather pats her head, praising her for the amazing blowjob she did.

Minji smiles shyly, her cheeks flushing with a mix of pride and embarrassment, her innocence shining through as she looks up at him. “I’m glad I made you feel good, Grandpa,” she says...But then her expression shifts, a flicker of curiosity and desire crossing her face, her bratty side peeking through as she bites her lip.

“Um… Grandpa,” she starts, “do you think… maybe we should… you know, fuck?” Her words are this time direct..

The grandfather’s eyes widen, his heart racing at her words, a mix of arousal and concern swirling in his chest. His cock twitches at the thought—fucking his granddaughter, taking her virginity, burying himself in her tight, untouched pussy—but he quickly shakes his head, his protective instincts kicking in.

“No, Minji,” he says firmly, his voice gentle but resolute, his hands cupping her face as he looks into her eyes. “Not that… not your pussy. That’s your main virginity, princess… I can’t take that from you. It’s too much… too special. I love you too much to do that.” His words are heartfelt, his love for her so deep that he’s willing to deny his own desires to protect her..

Minji pouts, "But Grandpa… I want to,” she whines. “I love you… I want to feel it… I don’t care about my virginity… I just-.” Her words are raw, her love for him pouring out...She’s curious, eager to experience everything with him..

He chuckles softly, “Oh, Minji,” he says,. “You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that? So damn stubborn… just like your grandma was.” His words lightens the moment, his laughter rumbling in his chest, but his eyes are serious as he pulls back to look at her.

“I can’t take your virginity, sweetheart…You'll regret it in the future if I take it from you. I'm not gonna marry you.. It might cause you pregnant.. ", he continues.. "but… there’s something else we can do. Something just as close… if you’re sure you want it.”

His voice drops lower, a hint of lust creeping in, his hands sliding to her hips as he waits for her response.

Minji tilts her head, her curiosity piqued, “Something else?” she asks, “What do you mean, Grandpa? I… I wanna be close to you… I wanna feel it!!.”

He takes a deep breath. “We can… try it in your ass, Minji,” he says “It’s not your virginity… not like that. But it’s still close… still special. And we'll be gentle...”

Minji’s eyes widen, a flicker of nervousness crossing her face, but her love for him and her curiosity outweigh her fear,. “In my… ass?” she says, “That… that sounds kinda… great!!…… I trust you, Grandpa!!. I love you… and I wanna be close to you… like that.” Her words are shy but earnest..

“I love you too, Minji… more than anything,” he murmurs,... “We’ll go slow…"

Minji nods, “I trust you, Grandpa,”.. “But I'm a little scared..Just… don’t laugh if I scream a little, okay? I’ve seen stuff online… this sounds like it’s gonna be a lot!”

He chuckles, his laughter warm and genuine, his hands sliding to her hips as he helps her back onto her hands and knees, positioning her on the floor. “No promises, princess,” he teases, his voice playful but loving, his humor lightening the moment. “But I’ll be gentle… we’ll take it one step at a time. You’re gonna be okay, I swear.” he spreads her ass cheeks, her tight, glistening asshole coming into view, still wet from his earlier licking. He now aims his cock inside to her shithole.

He doesn’t have lube, but her ass is already slick from his tongue, and he spits into his hand multiple times, rubbing the saliva onto his cock and then onto her asshole, working the wetness around her tight ring to ease the way. “Gonna get you ready, okay?” he says, his voice low and soothing, his free hand rubbing her lower back as he presses a finger against her asshole, slowly pushing it in to help her relax. “Just breathe, Minji… nice and slow… relax for me. I’ve got you.”

Minji takes a deep breath.

She nods, her breath shaky, and follows his instructions, pushing out as he presses forward, the tip of his cock breaching her tight shithole. The stretch is immediate and intense, a burning pain shooting through her as her asshole resists the intrusion, the lack of natural lubrication making it feel raw and tight despite the spit.

"Oh… oh God, Grandpa!” she cries out, her hands gripping the floor as tears prick her eyes. “It hurts… it hurts a lot…” Her body tenses, her anal sphincter clenching around him, the pain is high. This is her first time crying.

He freezes, his heart aching at her cry, his hands rubbing soothing circles on her hips as he pauses, only the tip of his cock inside her. “I’m sorry, Minji… I’m so sorry,” he says, his voice thick with emotion, his love for her making her pain feel like his own. “We can stop if it’s too much… I don’t wanna hurt you, princess. I love you so much.” but his cock throbs inside her, the tightness of her ass.. The fucking his granddaughter in the ass makes his arousal almost unbearable.

Minji shakes her head, her breath shaky, “No… don’t stop,” she whispers, her hands gripping the floor as she pushes back slightly. “I… I want this to happen… I wanna be close to you… I love you, Grandpa.” She giggles through her tears, her bratty humor breaking through as she adds, “I… I guess my butt’s not ready for the big leagues yet, But… keep going… I can take it.”

He chuckles softly, his laughter warm and affectionate, his hands squeezing her hips as he starts to move again, his thrusts slow and careful. “You’re a ffuckingchamp, Minji,” he says as he eases into her, tearing her asshole inch by inch.

“My little granddaughter… taking her grandpa’s cock like a pro… love you so much.”

Minji moans softly, the pain starting to fade into a deep, intense pleasure as her body adjusts, the fullness of his cock in her ass making her pussy throb, her clit aching as she feels him move inside her. “Grandpa… it’s… it’s starting to feel good,” she gasps, her voice a mix of awe and pleasure, her hands gripping the floor as she pushes back against him, her love for him making the act feel intimate, even romantic, despite the initial pain. “I love you… I love this… being close to you like this…” Her words are raw, her emotions pouring out, the taboo of anal sex with her grandfather turning into a profound expression of their bond, her innocence giving way to a new, shared intimacy.

He groans, his thrusts picking up slightly, his hands gripping her hips as he fucks her ass, the tightness of her body making his cock throb, pre-cum leaking inside her as he moves. “I love you too, Minji… my perfect girl… my everything,” he rasps, his voice thick with emotion, his love for her deepening with every thrust.. He moans as he releases a big load of cum inside her shithole.. Minju screams also in pain and satisfaction.. Both loses their energy and collapses down on the floor..

[stillwatervoid]

Do you have any Mark headcanons? If yes please share :)

Heeey! So, I’m not sure if there’s a specific ‘right’ way to do headcanons, but here’s my take on it:

Mark Grayson is basically a "friends to lovers" kind of character. It doesn’t matter if you’re childhood friends, met at school by chance, or bonded on the field as heroes (if reader has powers)—if you’re friends, he’s eventually going to fall for you.

The thing is, he doesn’t even realize it at first. He’s just used to feeling light and warm and happy around you. That’s just how it is. That’s just how you two are. The feelings are there, shimmering quietly beneath the surface, but he’s either too oblivious to notice or actively ignoring them—thinking it’s easier to let them sit there, harmless, until they magically fade away.

Except they don’t go away, and every brush of your fingers, every quiet laugh, every lingering look leaves him spiraling—his heart stumbling, his thoughts a mess, his words tripping over themselves. And eventually, after weeks of denial, of pretending he’s content to remain just friends, Mark finally admits to himself that his feelings go far deeper than that.

And oh, he’s so down bad.

When Mark Grayson falls, he falls hard—and once he stops ignoring it, he’s not subtle about it either. He’s suddenly offering to carry your stuff, always walking close beside you in the hallways, casually throwing his arm around your shoulders while you’re talking, sliding his hand around your waist when you’re chatting with someone else—little touches that linger just long enough to mean something.

Just enough for you to start noticing.

Just enough for you to start returning the favor.

Mark nearly faceplants into the pavement when you kiss his cheek goodbye after school for the first time.

“What—what was that for?” he stammers, mouth dry, cheeks flaming red like he’s about to combust on the spot.

You huff a laugh, clearly enjoying how flustered he is.

“It’s payback,” you say, a teasing glint in your eyes. You’re thinking of all the times he got a little too close, held you just a bit too tight, gently nudged you when someone else had your attention—like he couldn’t stand not being the one you were looking at. Like he needed to remind you exactly where you belonged. “Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing, Grayson.”

That shuts him up real quick—but it leaves him reeling. And absolutely ready to make his next move.

Mark Grayson kisses like he’s starving.

Yup, that’s right. I’ll say it here and I’ll scream it in every piece I write.

Mark Grayson 🗣️kisses you 🗣️like he’s 🗣️ starving 🗣️ 🗣️

When he finally confesses, when he finally admits what’s been building inside him, and you—oh thank god—you return his feelings, the kiss that follows is desperate, hungry, and filled with everything he’s been holding back for so long.

His hands are shaky and unsteady, but it’s clear he’s been waiting for this moment longer than you realized. Every inch of him buzzes where he touches you, like he can’t contain it anymore. His lips seek yours with an urgency that takes your breath away, his hands trembling as they pull you closer, pressing you into him as if he’s terrified he's dreaming or something.

And despite all his nervous, jittery energy, Mark devours you.

He makes all kinds of sounds when he kisses—groans, sighs, low hums that vibrate against your mouth. His tongue searches, teeth nip, and the wet, messy sounds filling the room would absolutely make you blush if anyone else ever got the chance to hear them.

Mark kisses you like he’s thirsty. Like he’s hungry. Like you’re the last bit of air left on Earth.

And sometimes, yeah, you genuinely have to stop him before you black out.

“Mark—mmh—Mark, I need—” you mumble, half-laughing, breathless, trapped between his arms and the mess of his bed. “I need to breathe, babe. I’m not—mmh—I can’t hold my breath like you.”

Yeah, he needs a daily reminder that you’re just human and your lungs can’t handle what his Viltrumite ones can. Mark can hold his breath for hours if he needs to. And if you could too? He’d be kissing you until your lips went purple, until they were swollen and bruised and completely wrecked.

And let’s be honest—he’s not the only one starving.

You kiss him back like you’ve been waiting just as long.

Like you’ve been hungry too.

Mark Grayson takes you flying wherever you want, whenever you want.

Just being able to call you his boyfriend, to say your relationship is official, isn’t enough for him. Not even close. Mark can’t help but go above and beyond to prove—over and over—that he loves you every single day. Because as much as he tries, his hero life always pulls him away. He’s constantly injured, constantly exhausted, constantly needed somewhere else. And it’s not like you hold that against him. When you said yes to dating Mark Grayson, you also said yes to dating Invincible—and you’re not backing out now.

Still, he hates when plans get canceled, when hangouts have to be rescheduled, when he finally climbs through your window only to find you already asleep, waiting for him until you couldn’t keep your eyes open anymore. So he does what he can to make it up to you, to make it unforgetable.

When he can make time, he takes you to places you’ve only ever seen in movies. In under six months, you’ve visited half the globe. Breakfast in Italy, lunch in Egypt, dinner in Seoul. Mark makes a habit of picking you up, arms sliding around your waist, and asking, “What do you fancy eating today?” like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

And when you spot a cool place online, you don’t even have to finish the sentence.

“Hey, Mark, there’s this new themed café in Japan. You think we could—”

“Yes,” he answers before you can even finish, already lifting off the ground with you scooped in his arms. “Let’s go right now.”

You barely have time to grab your jacket.

That’s how he is with you—immediate, eager, shamelessly in love.

If you want something, Mark is already three steps ahead trying to give it to you.

Flying with him becomes your new normal—not just for spontaneous getaways or international dates, but for the quiet moments too. Sometimes, when you're hunched over your desk, buried in homework or stress, he just shows up at your window, a soft tap against the glass, and before you know it, he’s convincing you to join him in the sky for a quiet moment alone. Mark treasures these moments more than anything. Just the two of you, alone above the city, with only the stars as company. Your head resting against his, temple pressed to his, as the world below fades into nothingness.

Because while Mark may not always have the time to give you during the day—between his duties as Invincible, the injuries, the endless missions—he has enough to give you at night. And he hopes that these quiet, stolen moments under the stars will somehow make up for all the things he can’t be there for.

[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.”

[melanchoire]

Request: Your parents set up your brother and Yujin together and they’ve been dating for a little while. (But, she ended taking a liking to you instead)…So, he decided to invite you all over to his house to have dinner together so he could introduce her to them. During dinner she teases you under the table but before she could take it too far you excuse yourself to the bathroom and she comes up with an excuse to excuse herself too…

cw: age gap (legal), bathroom + mirror sex, fingering, mommy kink.

sooo yujin is your older brother’s soon to be girlfriend. they met through their parents since they knew each other through work stuff but they had a good bond, and well, during a friendly dinner but also to discuss business matters, both brought up the subject that they had children and it just so happened that they were both the same age. after each parent told their respective child about this, yujin and your brother decided to give it a try and they clicked instantly!!

your brother used to talk about you a lot and yujin was fascinated by the things he said. she didn’t know you personally, only through the things your brother told her or what your parents told theirs during their get–togethers

once your brother and yujin started dating but not yet with a totally official title, he proposed that yujin properly meet his parents. she thought it was a little hasty because they didn’t even have an official title yet, but she let it go because it wasn’t something that really bothered her

yujin leaving the office early so she can go to the toy store and buy a nice present for her boyfriend’s little sister 🥰 she is so sweet... yujin doesn’t care about the price and doesn’t even have a problem spending a high amount of money on a doll because she’s doing it from the heart

upon arriving at her boyfriend’s parents’ house, yujin waits at the door, being greeted by her soon to be mother–in–law and her soon to be father–in–law and boyfriend on the couch

your mother tells her that dinner is almost ready, then when she calls your name because you were in your room, and yujin is more than smiling as she holds the gift bag in her hands 🥹 but the smile slowly fades from her face when she sees a girl who is clearly not a kid coming down the stairs wearing a tight tank top and the sluttiest short shorts…

yujin is thankful that she was taller than you because from another person’s perspective she was just looking down on you because of her height, but in reality she wasn’t so sneakily catching a glimpse of your tits through the collar of your pajama top ☺️ she’s so charismatic and charming, smiling at you as you two exchange words for the first time, using a friendly facade when the dirtiest and most depraved thoughts are running through her mind…

and of course she feels frustrated after meeting you! she can’t believe that your parents and hers introduced her to your brother, and not you, someone so much better than him in every field! yujin heard you talk for the first time at dinner, and even though it was the first time you two had met, she felt much more attracted to you at first sight than she did to your brother after so many cheesy dates

so when your brother invited his parents to dinner at his apartment to tell them that they finally made their relationship official, she thought it would be a good idea to be able to connect with you too 😉

yujin being the one to open the door when you finally arrive at the apartment and being greeted with the image of you having your hair styled in the prettiest way and wearing the shortest and tightest dress possible 🫠 she doesn’t even try to hide it, devouring you with her gaze and giving you a grin followed by a low whistle

“looking good, hun. you’re getting prettier every day.” and you think it’s just a compliment because it comes from your brother’s lovely girlfriend, not knowing that every day that passes she hopes it’s one day less so she can fuck you

during dinner yujin talks about her studies after your parents asked her, she comments that she finished her degree recently and finally works in what she always dreamed of ❤️ but noticing that you’re very quiet she turns to look at you and asks if you’re studying or something, and when you tell her that you’re only in your first year of college, the little sanity that was left inside her completely breaks

“awww, you’re still a baby…” and her hand slides up your thigh and gives it a squeeze while smiling sweetly at you

yujin teasing you under the table, sneaking her hand under your dress and touching you through your panties, slowly and torturously massaging your clit through the soaked fabric of your ruined underwear

and you wonder how she is doing this and absolutely no one at the table seems to notice 💀 she’s having a conversation with your parents and brother while shamelessly playing with you…

until you can’t stand it anymore and you practically run away to the bathroom after apologizing to your parents, who, well, sent yujin after you to check if you were okay because they were worried when they saw that you looked agitated and nervous

when you look up from the sink because you were wetting your face to try to calm down, you meet her gaze through the mirror 😳 you don’t remember hearing the door open or anything that would let you know she was there with you

you would have tried to turn to look at her if it weren't for the fact that she is faster than you and rushes to get behind you, pressing her chest against your back while her hands rest on the sink on either side of your sides

“you look so gorgeous tonight… did you get this pretty just for me?”

and she doesn’t let you answer either because suddenly her hands grab your tits from behind and she pushes you against her body while she whispers in your ear

“just be a good girl for me, will you? make mommy proud.”

yujin fingering you in front of the mirror and making you look 🥴 three long fingers pumping intensely in and out of you, your legs weren’t able to keep you standing and you would have fallen to the floor if it weren’t for her body pressing you against the sink, one arm around your waist and her hand working between your legs while the other is holding your face so you can see your own reflection

i also see her as the type who will let go of your face for a moment and gently pat your face when your head is falling or you just can't keep your eyes on the mirror in front of you “c’mon darling. don’t act bad now, you’re doing great. eyes on me, okay?”

but the moment she notices that you’re trying too hard she decides to close her hand over her mouth, saying “go ahead baby, make all the noise you want. mommy will take care of this.” as if it weren’t that she’s fucking you so roughly with her fingers that there’s an obscene splash that fills the silent bathroom and you’re pretty sure it’t audible through the door

and she enjoys it more than anything when you finally cum on her fingers, juices running down your thighs and wetting yujin’s entire hand up to her wrist ☺️ she will even make you watch through the mirror as she sucks on her fingers, cleaning your juices off her digits while humming softly and staring at you

and your parents and brother look happy when the loving girlfriend and her boyfriend’s younger sister start having girls’ nights ❤️ they think that it is a healthy relationship between the girlfriend and her sister–in–law where there is no rivalry or falsehood

but of course, they don’t know that after those expensive outings and luxurious dinners where yujin takes you, she drags you to her apartment to fuck you all night long: eating you out until she is satisfied, fingering you until she feels like you’ve come too much on her fingers and the sheets are soaked beneath your hips, and fucking you silly with her strap on until you cream on it and your body falls limp on her bed, although yujin will surely make you clean her cock with your mouth and shower you with praise because because she knows you’re having a hard time trying to get the whole thick strap into your mouth

[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 :

[xaer1s]

ㅤㅤ ❛ ㅤ✿ ──────​ cold to the touch ⸝⸝

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ[ 정우영 ] ─── JUNG WOOYOUNG ⨾ ATEEZ

ㅤㅤsynopsis:ㅤhe got that piercing for fun, yet he was happy to see you react to it more deeply than just with simple happiness.ㅤ⨾ㅤwarnings:ㅤnsfw!!, mean-teasing-dom!wooyoung, oral (f receiving) heavy make out sessions at the beginning, all of it is just nasty stuff, tongue pierced woo <3, absolutely no plot, he munching on it, slight p*ssy play and slapping, lmk if missed anything & sorry for possible mistakes!!ㅤ⨾ㅤword count:ㅤ1,4kㅤ⨾ㅤa/n.:ㅤbased on that video where he says he wants a lip piercing (or it was my imagination sry guys) but his mother doesnt let him; justice for our boy, woo...

ㅤㅤNAViGATiON ・・・・・; ✉︎ message me on: @smnxi ; please reblog and follow if you like my posts! do not spam likes, or you'll be blocked, sorry! ♡

ㅤㅤif you'd like to be a part of my taglist, fill out this form, dm me or comment on ONLY the rules post!/ requests open!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ˚ ⋆ . ｡.

. . . after wooyoung didn’t resist the temptation of getting more and more tattoos alongside with a tongue piercing, you just carefully examined from the sidelines how it would turn out for him and to be frank it was quite sexy. but with this, came the thoughts wrapped with filth, picturing his hot muscle dragging over your sensitive petals, gifting small circles and quick flicks with the cold metal had you slowly falling into madness.

and oh did he saw those thoughts every single fucking time you got a glimpse of the piercing while he was speaking. the way you so intently stared; he was sure if he’d ask you what he said just now, you would totally freak out and be caught with those nasty images keeping you occupied.

it made him swell with pride, pumping his ego like nothing else in the past days. he has you wrapped around his fingers and now wooyoung made it his own little personal mission to have you go nuts on his tongue.

his coat carelessly left somewhere in they way between the front door and your living room, shoes kicked off, the bouquet he picked with care for you now tossed on the coffee table in the middle of the room, you crashed against him desperately after a long day of waiting for him to arrive home.

the sensual dances of your swelled lips, the make out messy and sloppy, your spit mixing together at the eager way his tongue almost fucks into the cavern of your mouth. your back flushed against the wall, his right hand planted next to your head while the other took a hold of your chin, his thumb swiping across your smooth skin in small shapes.

doing your very best to breathe through your nose as a way to ground yourself, trying to keep your dizziness at bay, it just didn’t seem to work though. your legs wobbly, words not even being able to made out, muttered against the kiss, by the way the man completely just devours you, leaving you unable to even resist, not if you wanted to too anyway.

even if the possibility of losing your grounding were to happen, his muscled arms would tightly fold around your, ensuring every inch of you body perfectly molded against his.

“baby- calm down-” finally you were able to mutter with great effort but in response, wooyoung pulled your bottom between his teeth, giving it a tug and the strength almost enough to break through the delicate, pink skin.

“mmm, you said-” he groaned into your mouth, one of his arm making its way up to push against your throat, your head tipping back with a small thump against the cold concrete wall. “you wanted a kiss-..” he practically ate you, everything messy and smudged and hot around you. your body was uncomfortable. burning up while he choked the words back inside you before they could even come up to the surface in the form of resistance.

free hand sneaking their way between your legs without your notice, only feeling the way his palms lands a smack on your clothed heat, fingers then circling in an attempt to have you completely soaked and goddamn needy.

“you got it baby..” he laughed; in the meantime of seconds, he ended up on his knees, looking up at you with those intense, desire filled eyes. his gaze almost screaming he’ll rip apart your clothes if you’re not stepping out of them right in this moment.

larger hands planted on the top of your thighs, his short nails digging into your flesh even through the fabric of your thin shorts, subconsciously pulling them until you finally gave in. your thumbs hooking into the waistband and with a quick push it was already around your ankles, shaking your legs enthusiastically to get rid of the annoying piece of clothing which seemed to practically being glued on you in your hurry.

wooyoung’s eyes finding their new favorite place on your panties, with rush he tugged it barely aside, the focus on just reaching what he had to.

cupping the inside of your thigh with his left hand, giving it a gentle, encouraging push to spread, your back leaned on the wall for leverage you pushed your hips out right in his face.

“look at this, baby..” he tuts with a mocking click if his tongue. “all the trashing around and still so ridiculously turned on..” wooyoungs let’s his big thumb graze over your soaked up folds while he watches in awe at the way you so urgently wiggle yourself close.

his hand holding your legs now pressing you firmly back to the cold wall, halting down all your grinding and your impatient moves while he takes his time as if he was the man with the most time on his hand. and when it came to you, he was indeed.

“woo-.. just do it..” a whine escaped you as his fat thumb circled your twitching clit, your love juices gushing out while you clenched on the terrible feeling of just air filling you.

“shut it.” your back arched with a stretched out moan, your toes curling as his hand what was caressing you so tenderly landed a slap on your swollen lips. pain shot through you, beautifully mingling with overflowing pleasure, the lines blurred and washed together deliciously.

the air got caught in your throat the moment you felt his lips embrace the small bundle of nerves, teeth grazing and tugging it. the cold metal bullied your sensitive flesh as he dragged it across, circling it and flicking over while he gazed into your eyes. overflowing lust was visible as he drank up all your expressions like air, his thin yet long lashes fluttering prettily.

crumpled top now hunched over your breasts, one trembling hand holding it in place as the other caressed the males raven dark locks, fingers curling around them and pushing him into you. he took the opportunity to drape your right leg over his shoulder, ensuring better access for his hungry mouth.

all logical thought faded from your hazy brain, only focusing the way this man went all out for you. just the way he liked it, all silly and needy not wanting to mutter a single word of complaint, —even if you were able to—, yet in this case it wasn’t possible. you waited this moment for days if not weeks, letting the piercing heal, only entertaining yourself with your mere imagination.

while he pushed you higher and higher on the wall from the way he chased after you to taste and feel after not doing it so long, his arms wrapped themselves around your thighs, the muscles subtly flexing in the action. the hand that was pulling, now changed into pushing against his forehead desperately.

wooyoung knitted his eyebrows together in frustration, determined to not let you slip away. one big palm gathering the now overly drenched textile just carelessly pushed aside from your pussy, straight up ripping away delicate fabric, making it completely useless. with this, his eyes slipped shut to turn his whole attention towards you, his the muscle going back and forth from dipping into your fluttering cunt, tracing your flushed lips and circle your twitching clit. all harmonizing together, overwhelming your senses and resulting in your whole body trembling, the heated feeling grew in your stomach and was ready to snap.

after few, maddening lash of the cold metal ball, your body went rigid suddenly while a strangled moan rippled from your throat. release coating his chin and face, wooyoung did his very best not to waste a single drop and let it drip onto the floor.

his brain completely shut you out and the cries for him to stop, —so he didn’t— lapping with the same determination.

only when he came up for a quick sip of air your managed to stop him from diving back. “gosh- i said stop!” wooyoung wiped your slick from his mouth with the back of his hand with a cheeky smile before landing a last, playful peck to the inside of your thighs. then he carefully eased himself from the floor to reward your lips too with a sweet kiss.

“i had no idea you would enjoy it so much.” at the shove you gave him in the shoulder he just laughed you off.

plagiarism is strictly forbidden, do not translate my works, copy them or publish them on another site ; @xaer1s

[rensylph]

Hihi! I'm not sure if you do nsfw or not, but if you do..PLEASE. IM BEGGING U TO MAKE A NSFW VER OF THE GENSHIN HIGH SCHOOL AU😭😭🙏🙏

Sure I guess, you guys consider whenever it's canon or not canon to the au. I'm sorry if it's bad It's my first time writing nsfw stuff

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍 ( 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋 𝐀𝐔 ) 𝐍𝐒𝐖𝐅 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

<< yandere genshin ( school au ) NSFW version >>

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ���️

You are a student at teyvat high, a prestigious highschool only for the wealthy and the elite has managed to get in due to one of your family members managed for you to be a student in the school, little did you know your presence will catch the hearts of many students. Characters: Diluc, kaeya, thoma, ayato, alhaitham, kaveh, childe, scaramouche, xiao, kazuha, albedo, vent

⚠️ Warning : this may have NSFW content ⚠️

(English is not my first language)

𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐅𝐈𝐋𝐄

NAME: (name) (last name)

CLASS: 2A

CLUB: music club

FAVORITE SUBJECT: (your choosing)

(Name) A second year student, a member of the music club, born from a middle class family has become an object of many students desires.

Diluc

A complete virgin, I mean he was saving for marriage but if you want to do it now he wouldn't mind he was having fantasies about you guys wedding night. I mean if you're planning on going to college why don't you move in with him and get married with him after college. Your life would be set.

Every time he thinks of you he couldn't stop popping a boner, even the slightest touch of your hand causes him to go crazy and go to the bathroom.

But the good thing is that the new arrangements with the student council president ayato, you and him will cross that border.

Kaeya

He has his fair share of sleeping around with the population of the school, so he's very experienced compared to his brother's diluc who is a virgin. He doesn't understand his brother's saving his virginity for the right one, until he meets you.

I mean he uses his charms to enchant the school to get everything he wants now he's regretting his choice because his reputation as a playboy is well known, causing you to avoid him entirely .

And every time he tries to flirt with you or try to indicate action, you would just look at him with a confusion. You're impossible to flirt with and so oblivious but that's a cute trait he could fix if you let him show you a good time

Thoma

Another virgin, unfortunately he has to witness you and student council arrangements and deal to keep funding incoming for your club

He's not allowed to do anything but Just watch you in the hands of predators that are willing to rip your flesh apart and feast on you.

But he also carries fantasy of himself and wishes for you and him to be together so he just needs time to strike. So you and him would be together without anyone disrupting your time.

Ayato

There are new arrangements with you and the student council, when Ayato called you and told you he had no choice but to cut the funding for the music club, and when you begged ayato saying you're willing to do anything, this gave him an idea.

So once a week or month, after school you would go to the student council meeting room and let your body be devoured by them, you allowed them to do anything with you.

Even tho the arrangement is with the entire student council, you and him would sometimes book a hotel room to spend the night together. And will use toys on you during school if you do not behave

Alhaitham

Of course accidentally witnessesing one of your rondavous with the student council, he decided to use it to his advantage. He used it to blackmail you and the student council president ayato.

So every time you do something wrong on a test you will get punished, and if you did well on a test you will be rewarded. As well every time you or him visits each other's house there will be some in course with each other

Plus every time he is stressed or overworked you have no choice but to follow him and distress him no matter the location. In school, bathroom, literally anywhere and you have to keep quiet if you guys don't get caught.

Kaveh

Poor kaveh seeing the love of your life having intercourses with your rival and roommate that gotta hurt. One time when you were with alhaitham. In exchange of keeping his mouth silent he also wants to have the same deal as alhaitham.

So every time when you finish with alhaitham you have to go towards kaveh. Heck maybe he will join you with alhaitham.

On the bright side, he's not been as stressed as before as well and he get a better view of biology and how does your body works

Childe

He's very pent up and everytime he win a game he will always expect you to reward him for doing good In the game.

Every time he's invited to a party, he will ask you to be his plus one and will not let you leave his side. If you're bored here don't worry he will take you somewhere more fun

He will take you to a hill, and you guys will make out in his car or just drive you back home so you and him could make out there. And he gets verbally jealous whenever someone tries to flirt with you

Scaramouche

Whenever he feels jealous or he feels like it, you will have to expect being pulled to the side drag into an empty broom closet and make out there

He doesn't even help you put your clothes back in or do after care just smash and go.

But sometimes he is gentle or whenever he's feeling a little nicer he's more gentler with you and gives you after care sometimes

Xiao

Also a virgin, he's very shy during his first time but gets the hang of it when you guys started to do it more often when he's not busy

He's very shy and nervous during his first time as well every time when you guys decided to have intercourses but he does have impressive stamina he can last for hours

He gets jealous when other students manage to get you before him, he once saw you walk out of the broom closet with scaramouche with a sweety body and disheveled clothing, so every time when he's jealous he's rought

Kazuha

The most gentlest and sweetest out of all of them, he can be rough but if you want to and ask him politely.

He always gives you the best after care after doing it, as well as gives you milk tea or any drink you want after doing it.

Will write poetry about your time with him In detail and will read it to you in the middle of it, it describes how he was feeling and what he wants to do with you and the things he's gonna do with you in extreme detail and find it amusing you blushing.

Albedo

He's very curious on how the human anatomy works during intercourse, so he asked you to do it with him so he could study how the body works

He calls your hook ups an experiment of the human body, he will write down every reaction thru every position or toys he uses on you.

He will say "how interesting" after managing to get a reaction from your body. And every time you guys do it, you will wear his lab coat.

Venti

The most open about your hook ups to make your other admirers jealous. And every time you try to shut him, he will reply with you " I thought you were enjoying it"

Likes to tease you a lot and grind against you when you are playing your music, same as Kazuha will write poetry about your time together.

Will always try to convince you to hook up or go another round even tho class is about in 5 minutes other wise you guys gonna be late I mean he doesn't care when ever he's late or not

[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. 

[quinnkaneki]

Haikyuu characters as parents/soon to be parents part 2 <3

pt 1

This part includes Bokuto Koutarou, Akaashi Keiji, Miya Osamu, Miya Atsumu and Suna Rintarou.

→ Bokuto Koutarou — During Pregnancy ^^

• Excited.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, I'm gonna be a dad, you're pregnant, WE'RE PREGNANT, WE'RE GONNA BE PARENTS, OH MY GOD!” *lifts you up and spins you around*

• Takes time off from volleyball.

“Yeah, no. Sorry guys but I'm gonna be busy for some time, my wife needs me.”

• At your side 24/7.

“Kou, I can walk to the bathroom on my own.”

“No can do little lady, what if you trip on your own feet, hmmm?? HMMM? WHAT THEN?” His arm snakes around your waist.

→ After pregnancy

• Emo mode, your son is a mini him.

“Mama is so mean papa..” He stuffs his face into Bokuto's shirt.

“Shhh, she'll hear you.”

“One more word out of you guys and your time out increases by 30 minutes” You sigh while cleaning up the broken vase. “No more damn volleyball in the house...”

• The type of dad to throw your kid in the air.

“Higher, Higher!” Your son giggles.

• Very insisting.

“Baby go back to bed, I'll get dinner ready and get S/N in the shower.”

“I can manage, you already made lun—”

“Sorry, I can't hear you, bed.”

“But—”

“Bed, bed, bedddd.”

→ Akaashi Keiji — During pregnancy ^^

• Very attentive, you mention craving something once and you'll have it the next day.

“Here you go,” he places the take out box in front of you.

“What's this?”

“Your (craving).”

• Saves for their college in advance.

“I think we should open a new savings account...” his fingers gently rub your belly.

“Oh yeah? What for?”

“Our little one's future.”

• Enjoys your weird pregnancy cravings.

“Whatcha nomming on?”

“Peanut butter and fried shrimp.”

“That's.... interesting, it looks good tho, can I try one?”

“Of course.”

*eats it* “Woah baby, you're onto something, this is pretty good.”

→ After pregnancy

• Gets called to the principal's office often.

“Sir, your son was throwing rocks at a student during recess and refused to tell us why, his behavior is unacceptable.”

—

“So...why'd you do it?” Akaashi inquires calmly as they enter his car.

“Okay so, Haru knows I like Yuki and he held her hand during recess while teasing me so I got upset..” he mutters.

“....You know what, understandable. If someone tried to take your mom away from me I'd throw rocks at them too, let's go get some ice cream.”

• Teaches him math.

“But daddddd, I hate division!” S/N whines.

“And that's exactly why I'm teaching it to you,” Akaashi sighs “What's 8 divided by 4?”

“Just say you hate me already!”

“You need to learn! Who's gonna do my taxes when I'm old?!”

• Star gazing.

“That one's me!”

“Which one sweetheart?” You ask.

“The one shining the brightest, duh!”

→ Miya Osamu — During pregnancy^^

• Always otp with you when he's away.

“Hold on baby, someone just came in, I'm gonna take their order.”

• Makes sure you're well fed.

“Samu, what's all of this?” You look over to him.

“You're eating for two,” he shrugs and helps you sit down.

• Buys your baby food inspired plushies.

“I got this onigiri and ice cream plushie for 5 bucks! Can you believe it babe?”

→ After pregnancy

• Teaches your daughter how to bake.

“Just a scoop of sugar again and mix,” He instructs and your daughter follows.

“Okay, done! Can I eat it yet?” She looks up at Osamu innocently.

“No love, we still need to bake it,” he chuckles and kisses her temple.

• Takes his family to expensive restaurants.

“Gotta treat my little princess right so she isn't impressed by the bare minimum, right my love?” He smiles at you before shifting his gaze to your daughter who was currently devouring caviar.

• Loves gossip.

“And you know what she did daddy? She looked him in his eyes and ate his crayon! His favorite one too! She's so cool!” You daughter climbs into the backseat.

“She sounds cool sweetheart but you're definitely cooler....now tell me what he did after she ate his crayon.”

→ Miya Atsumu — During pregnancy ^^

• Crys when he finds out.

“You're... you're pregnant...” his eyes land on your stomach as tears slowly cascade down his cheeks, “You're pregnant..” he repeats and gently hugs you.

• Randomly drops the bomb on his team when you're ready.

“Damn Tsumu, you're eating all that? Did Samu rub off on you?” Hinata eyes his plate.

“Nah, it's for Y/N, she's eating for two after all.” he says and walks away.

• Doodles on your baby bump.

“What are you drawing?" You gently run your fingers through his hair as he doodles away.

“Shrek...woah, oh my god, baby did he just kick? Was that a kick? Oh my god I felt it! DADDY LOVES YOU!” *kisses your belly*

→ After pregnancy.

• Attends all of your son's school events.

“C'MON S/N RUN, RUN, RUN, YESSSSS, THAT'S MY SON!!!” He yells proudly as your 6 year old reaches the finish line.

• Pillow fights.

“MOMMMMMMY! DADDY'S CHEATING, HE HAS THE BIG PILLOW!” Your son runs into the kitchen and hides behind your legs.

• Karaoke nights.

“Okay mommy and I are gonna do this one, you tell us who sings better, yeah?” Atsumu sits him on the couch.

“Yeah, okay!” he responds excitedly.

→ Suna Rintarou — During pregnancy ^^

• Scares you.

“Hey, so I know this isn't the best way to tell you this but...” *sent*

“But? What's wrong doll?”

“I'm pregnant” *seen*

“Rin?” *delivered*

“Hello? You're scaring me...” *delivered*

20 minutes later the front door slams open “I left work as fast as possible,” He immediately embraces you.

• Your ultrasound updates are his entire gallery.

“She was so much tinier last month,” he shows you his screen.

• Puts headphones on your belly.

“Now you can say you've been listening to Arctic Monkeys since the womb, thank me later.”

→ After pregnancy.

• He updates his wallpaper monthly.

“My girls look so pretty here..” he mumbles while setting a picture of you guys with morning hair and half asleep.

• Introduces her to different genres of games early on.

“Okay so this one's a little scary, let daddy know if you don't like it okay?” The game opens to the loading screen of Resident Evil 2.

“Papa who is that blonde guy?”

“Leon Kennedy, he's the main character.” Suna explains.

“I want him.” (she's so real)

• Shows her videos of the twins fighting.

“Oh and in this one they were fighting over a pudding cup, uncle Osamu thought Atsumu ate it but it was really me.”

Hope you guys enjoyed :3

[tomkaulitzssgirl]

TOUR BUS LIFE | TOM KAULITZ

the tour bus smelled like fries, body spray, and boy. definitely boy.

you were too girly for this. like, painfully too girly. hair masks, scented lotion, color-coded outfits levels of girly.

so being stuck on a cramped, loud, fast-food-scented tour bus with four teenage boys — including one who proudly used AXE as cologne and thought showering was a personality trait — was not your idea of fun.

the boys were already devouring greasy burgers, fries in hand, drinks sloshing around on the tiny table. you sat in the corner of the booth with your salad perched carefully on your lap, legs crossed, mentally begging no one to spill ketchup on your white hoodie.

tom had his arm lazily slung around your waist, pulling you into his side like you were his personal armrest. his hoodie sleeve grazed your hip as he stuffed a fry into his mouth.

across from you, bill was balancing his food on his knees, chewing loudly and already mid-rant.

“i swear, if we have to do one more radio interview with a guy who asks us if we’re twins, i’m gonna fake a language barrier and just start speaking french.”

“you don’t know french.” gustav mumbled through a mouthful of burger.

“exactly,” bill said, “that’s the point.”

georg snorted. “you could just say ‘yes’ and move on like a normal person.”

boll rolled his eyes. “where’s the drama in that?”

you smiled, poking at your salad while munching on a few fries. you hadn’t touched them all, and, right on cue—

“are you gonna eat those?” tom asked, already reaching.

you shrugged, amused. “go ahead.”

he immediately grabbed the rest and tossed a few into his mouth like he was starving, even though he’d already inhaled his burger five minutes ago. he looked smug.

“see?” he said with a full mouth, “this is why having a girlfriend is great.”

“this is why?” you raised a brow.

“well—” he smirked leaning in, “this and all the other stuff i’m not allowed to talk about in front of them.”

“tom.” bill groaned, tossing a napkin at him.

you elbowed him lightly, and he chuckled — then immediately tried to slide his hand up your side. you caught it just before it reached your chest and slapped it away with a look.

“nice try.”

tom pouted dramatically. “what? i’m just checking if she’s still there.”

“you’re being twelve.” you muttered shaking your head at him.

“i’m being in love.” he said in a fake-soft voice, fluttering his lashes.

you rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth tugged upward anyway.

georg rolled his eyes. “can you not harass your girlfriend for five minutes?”

“jealous.” tom said through another fry.

a second later, he leaned back against the booth cushion, sighed loudly — then let out a casual burp.

bill immediately followed with one of his own.

“classy.” you deadpanned.

“was that a challenge?” georg asked, already grinning.

“no!” you said firmly, “no battles. no competitions. we are eating.”

“too late.” gustav muttered.

“honestly,” tom said, mouth still half-full, “if you’re gonna date a rockstar, you gotta accept what comes with it.”

“i do,” you said, stealing one of his fries now, “i just don’t encourage it.”

tom gave you a crooked smile and then, with zero shame, burped again — quieter this time — and settled back into the seat. he adjusted the way you sat, tugging you closer until your back was pressed against his chest, his arms snug around your waist.

you felt him relax behind you. his chin dropped to your shoulder, lips brushing the side of your neck for a second — surprisingly gentle. he didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to.

he smelled like fries and shampoo, and maybe a little like smoke. you reached down to hold one of his hands resting on your stomach, and he instinctively curled his fingers through yours.

for a guy who had no idea what he was doing half the time, he had a weirdly perfect way of making you feel like he was trying just for you.

“hey.” he whispered low enough so the others didn’t catch it.

you turned your head slightly. “yeah?”

he kissed your cheek. “thanks for not making me be… like, a different guy.”

you smiled, leaning your head against his. “just don’t grope me in front of your brother and we’re good.”

“no promises.” he murmured, grinning into your skin.

you laughed, shaking your head, and snuggled back into his chest.

tour bus chaos or not — you wouldn’t trade it for anything. truth was, you hated the mess, the noise, the mystery stains on the cushions. but you loved that tom always saved the best fries for you. hell, you even loved when he stole them. you loved that he pulled you into his side even when there was no space. that no matter how chaotic the boys were, he always made sure you felt like his girl — not just a guest tagging along.

—

it was quiet now.

bill had gone to his bunk, headphones in, probably humming something he’d write lyrics to at 2 a.m. georg and gustav had passed out without saying goodnight, empty soda cans still on the little table.

and Tom…

he was lying next to you in the narrow bunk you shared sometimes when the motion of the bus didn’t bother him. his arm was draped across your waist, just like it had been earlier — only this time, it wasn’t playful. just still. comforting.

the small nightlight above the hallway was barely enough to see his face, but you could feel his breath on your neck, slow and steady. he hadn’t said much since you both crawled in.

you turned your head slightly toward him. “you okay?”

he nodded, his nose brushing your shoulder. “yeah.”

silence. a long beat.

then:

“i think i suck at this.”

you blinked, shifting slightly so you could face him better. “at what?”

“relationships.” his voice was quiet — not like he was embarrassed, just honest. “at being a boyfriend.”

you frowned, brushing his dreadlocks gently off his cheek. “tom…”

“i mean it,” he said, looking down at where his fingers were idly tracing circles on your arm, “before you… i didn’t do any of this. like—trying. or caring if someone got mad. or staying in the same bed all night. that wasn’t me.”

you smiled softly. “i know.”

he glanced up at you. “and now it’s like… i don’t know what the hell i’m doing half the time. i say stupid things. i forget to call back. i accidentally grab your boob in front of my brother—”

you snorted. “accidentally, huh?”

he smirked. “okay, not that one.”

then his face softened again. like something fragile was balancing behind his grin.

“but i think about you all the time,” he admitted, quieter now, “like when i hear a new song, or when i eat something good, or when i see something on the road i know you’d laugh at. i’m not good at saying all the nice things. but i think them. all the time.”

your heart tightened in your chest — that good kind of ache. the kind that meant you’d peeled back another layer of him. one he didn’t even realize he was hiding.

“you’re doing just fine, tom,” you whispered, reaching up to cup his face, “better than fine.”

he looked at you for a long second. then he leaned in and kissed you, slow and warm — not like the cocky kisses he gave in front of others. this one was private. Gentle. a little unsure.

when he pulled away, he tucked your head under his chin, burying his hand in your hair.

“you know you’ve ruined me, right?” he mumbled into your hair.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

he chuckled softly. “it’s not.”

and in that tiny bunk, the world outside didn’t matter. not the noise, not the flashing cameras, not the chaos that always followed him. just this moment. just him, and you — and all the soft, quiet love he didn’t know how to show… but was learning to.

with you.

and maybe, just maybe, you didn’t mind being a little out of place… if it meant ending the day with him wrapped around you like that.

[sereia4skz]

Hey Sereia!

Hope you're doing well. Sorry it took me so long to talk, unfortunately my luggage almost got lost. But don't worry it got here intact three entire days later. They apparently shipped it off to France accidentally.

I didn't realise it first how chaotic it could get living with eight boys. But it's okay! It almost feels like I'm just with my pets. Lee Know reminds me a lot of Aster (my cat) and loves head scratches. He's made a habit of falling asleep on me in the afternoons. I do hope that Aster and Sirius (my dog) aren't giving you much trouble.

The pack leader, Chan, was quite apprehensive of me at first, but quickly warmed up to me once he saw how much the others seemed to love my presence. Actually, he's the one who gave me his clothes to wear when my luggage wasn't here yet. Although I'm fine in rooming with Felix, he insists that I spend the nights with him. After the first night I started to room with him and now every morning I wake up with small hickeys on my neck. Lately, he's gotten bolder and pulls me into him when I'm in the kitchen, sometimes even leaving a dark hickey. And he doesn't even care if anybody's watching or not! God, it leaves me all flustered and red in the face. He's also taken to whispering the dirtiest of things in my ear during movie nights when he snuggles into me. I really don't know how I'm supposed to resist him when he's so good looking and makes me wanna jump him. Should I just give in to the temptation?

With love, Maddy xoxo

1k Followers Event | no need to even go for it

pairing: wolf!Chan x reader

genre: smut

warnings: public sex (only Felix notices), voyeurism (Felix), unprotected sex, Chan cums inside, dirty talking

event masterlist: #1kShootingStars

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Hey Maddy!

Glad you're enjoying your time with the boys! Aster and Sirius are doing good, don't worry about them and enjoy yourself.

Shame about your luggage, quite odd this careful leader of theirs, offering his stuff  and wanting to share a room. Although I think you could give it a try. Maybe he'll even come to you?

What's the worst that could happen?

Love, Reia

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Chan had insisted the pack take you to Changbin's parents' beach house. Saying it was a must to visit Jeju for anyone visiting Korea. 

Felix had offered to let you stay in his room but his leader had dismissed the idea quickly, insisting that the boy needed some rest after the endless sleepovers that had taken place in the cabin. It was a wonder he even found out about them, since all the boys seem to mischievously hide their shenanigans from the eldest.

Chan had been growing bolder with his advances, whispering dirty, filthy things in your ears, smirking as Felix asks why you've flushed red. So here you are sitting, in his shirt, on the shared bed looking into the vanity, observing the bruises that littered your neck. 

"Y/N!" Felix's voice calls from the living room, you paddle your way finding the boys all cuddled up on the couch, "Movie night", the boy grins at you. 

"You can sit here." Chan's voice rings true, almost like a demand and not a suggestion, patting the spot next to him. 

You don't hesitate, not when he's looking at you like he's going to devour you. You plop next to him, almost immediately surrounded by his warmth as he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you between his legs, back against his chest. His warmth wraps around you like a second skin, the cotton of his shirt soft against your body but doing little to shield you from the way his presence burns.

"Still sore from earlier?" he murmurs into your ear, his breath warm, his voice just for you. You tense, heat flooding your face. "You're so easy to mess with,"his lips brushing the shell of your ear. "That pretty little blush gives you away every time."

His hand move with purpose, fingers brushing slow circles along your inner thigh, grazing just close enough to make your muscles tighten. You shift, just slightly. His lips brush your temple.

“Don’t squirm, sweetheart,” he whispers, low enough that only you could hear. “You’ll give us away.”

Your breath catches, and your spine straightens slightly, trying to pretend everything is normal. That his hand isn’t inching higher beneath the blanket. That your thighs aren't already damp with anticipation. That Felix, only a cushion away, wasn’t occasionally glancing in your direction with wide, curious eyes.

Chan’s fingers dip between your legs, featherlight. You jerk softly, a quiet gasp slipping through your lips. His fingers pause, stroking the crease where your thigh met your core.

“Wet already?” His voice honeyed filth. “Fuck… I barely touched you.”

You bit your lip, nodding once. His smirk pressed to your jaw, the kind of smile he wore when he had complete control.

“I’m going to stretch you for me, now,” he murmurs, hand finally slipping beneath your underwear. “Right here, while they’re all watching the movie. You won’t make a sound… mkay?”

You barely shake your head before he presses a single finger inside, slow, deliberate, testing the stretch. You clench instinctively, a soft whimper barely stifled against your teeth.

“Good girl,” he breathes, the praise molten in your ears. “So tight already.”

He works you open with practiced ease, fingers curling, scissoring, stroking that spot that made your thighs tremble. Every time you flinch or whimper, he kisses your neck, humming against your skin like it soothed the ache he was creating. The wet sounds of his fingers thrusting slowly into you hidden beneath the soft rustle of the blanket and the TV’s audio, but it felt so obvious, so obscene.

Your hips rock involuntarily, and he rewards you by pressing a second finger inside. You bite down on the inside of your cheek, hard. Your hand grips the blanket like it might anchor you.

Then his fingers slip out.

You turn slightly to look at him, wide-eyed, confused, until you feel it. The press of him against your entrance, thick and hot through the cotton of his sweats, already freed beneath the blanket. Your breath hitches.

He leans down, mouth against your ear again. “Going to put it in now, baby. Stay quiet for me.”

He pushes into you slowly, his cock stretching you open so gradually that your thighs shook with restraint. Your eyes wander trying to focus on keeping quiet, you look upon, eyes falling on Felix. Just as you make eye contact, Chan bottoms out, buried deep, he groans against your neck, the sound low and rough.

“Fuck, you feel perfect. Always do.”

He doesn't move. Not right away. He just stays inside you, holding you tight, as if letting you feel every pulse of him nestled in your walls. Your body clenches helplessly around him, and his hand grips your waist.

“You’re squeezing me,” he chuckles darkly. “Don’t get greedy now.”

You feel lightheaded with the effort of staying still. Staying quiet. Eyes wide focused on Felix.

His gaze had drifted from the screen, attention landing on your face. You didn’t know what he saw, your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your eyes glazed over, but his own face had bloomed red. He swallows visibly. His hand twitches toward his mouth, like he might hide a smile. And he didn’t look away.

Chan saw it. You knew he did. He shifts inside you, slow and deep, dragging against every sensitive inch. You make a noise, something between a gasp and a whimper, and Felix’s eyes widen just slightly.

“Good girl,” Chan growls softly, quiet enough that only you could hear. "Let him see me fucking his precious little friend."

You clench around him again, body betraying you. Chan bites down on your shoulder, just enough to make you jolt. “You like this, don’t you?” he whispers, voice thick. “Getting fucked with your little friend watching. You want to show him how pretty you are when I fuck you dumb?”

Your body answered before you could. He begins to move, slow and shallow, just enough to make you feel everything, but not enough to draw attention from the rest of the room. His rhythm, maddening, measured, intentional.

You're dripping, soaked around him, his cock dragging lazy thrusts as if he had all the time in the world to ruin you.

"Keep watching the movie," he teases darkly. "Unless you want them all to notice how good I’m fucking you."

You shake, trembling in his lap as your orgasm crept up, but he didn’t let you fall. Held you right at the edge. His hand reaches under the blanket again, thumb circling your clit just once, maybe twice, and you nearly come undone. You buckle slightly and moan into your hand, barely stifling the sound. Chan stilled.

“Too loud,” he warns with a growl, his cock twitching inside you. “Be good, go ahead.”

You nod, panting quietly through your nose, sweat beading at your temples. Your legs tremble.

Then he cums, sudden and hot, filling you with a groan buried into the crook of your neck. He didn’t pull out. Just held you tight, his cock buried deep, inside your soaked walls clenching around him.

“Fuck,” he exhaled. “Stay just like this.”

You melt against him, fucked-out and still full, his cum seeping slowly onto the couch. God, Minho was going to be so pissed about the couch.

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taglist: @diekleinesuesse @tillaboo @felixsonlyrealwife @geni-627 @skz8riley @lezleeferguson-120 @pixie-felix @headfirstfortoro @alnex05 @baby-stay92 @encoredesires @androgynouscrownorbit @channiesluvrclub @my-neurodivergent-world @chims-dimple @bookswillfindyouaway @stellasays45 @angel-writes-skz-here @m-325 @0sunshinecryptid0 @beal-o

[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