#Thank you to whoever took their time to read this

[nanenna]

No one: Absolutely not a single person: Me: TIME FOR SAD DANNY HOUR! 8D

✨Bad Ending✨

CW: Major character death, child death, dead dove

Seriously, I know the Phandom plays around with death themes a lot but this isn't some cutesy for fun temporary undeath. A child dies permanently, irrevocably, and does not come back in any shape or form. So if that's not your cup of tea please do not click that readmore.

---

Danny had been telling the truth… mostly. He was a clone of Batman (of Bruce), his blood definitely had something wrong with it (it came out of the centrifuge with a green layer), and his DNA was even worse (it nearly bricked the analyzer). But the sample wasn’t degrading like Danny claimed it would. The green layer dissipated quickly, but the rest of his blood simply stayed there and didn’t change while they read over the information he’d provided and ran tests. As many tests as they could, anything to stall Danny for as long as possible.

Danny seemed to feel it, growing ever more anxious the longer it took to get an answer from them. “Just yes or no, you’ve read everything I gave you, you’ve run so many tests, just tell me if you’re willing to give a sample or not.”

“Why a sample? Why not let us help you?” Batman asked.

“Because… because you can’t. You don’t know… he’s the only one…” Danny huffed in frustration. “Please, just… please!”

Batman sighed, but nodded. Danny looked so relieved, Batman truly did believe Danny needed his blood to save a life, just not Danny’s life. Clones are rarely made one at a time, afterall. And when it comes down to it Batman’s goal is always saving lives.

He watched as his sons surreptitiously tossed trackers of various kinds at Danny’s back. Nightwing came over to offer Danny support and give him a slip of paper with a phone number on it, and slipped a tracker under Danny’s hood when he patted him consolingly.

Batman slipped a tracker onto the underside of the stopper he put on the vial full of his blood. Enough to stabilize a clone, hopefully not enough to make more. He sighed, it definitely would be, he just prayed whoever Danny was getting help from didn’t want more clones. “Here.”

“Thank you,” Danny said sincerely, then took off the bag that had been slung across his body and lowered to squat on the floor. From within the bag he pulled out a small styrofoam container, he opened the lid to reveal a small bed of shaved ice. Batman squinted, was the ice tinged green?

While Danny concentrated on carefully nesting the vial in the ice, Batman watched three different trackers sail from across the room to land in the bag. A fourth hit the lip of the bag and bounced off, Red Robin hissed in disappointment.

A phone started ringing.

Danny’s eyes went wide and his lip started trembling. “No,” he whispered harshly. Then with trembling hands he pulled out a phone and stared in horror at the screen. Danny sucked in a breath as he attempted, then finally managed to answer the phone. “Jazz.”

Danny listened for a moment, then fell backwards to sit on the ground, hunched forward as he stared down at the ground between his legs. “No, Jazz please, she can’t be. The ecto-...” He trailed off as he sucked in a shaky breath, the hand not holding the phone came up to cover his eyes. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”

Bruce looked away, suddenly feeling guilty for how long they’d spent giving Danny the run around.

“I’m not coming back,” Danny said hollowly.

Bruce looked back over, Danny was still sitting slumped on the floor, the hand that had been over his eyes now laying limply on the ground between his akimbo legs.

“No, Jazz, why would I go back? Vlad couldn’t keep up his end of the deal, I have no reason to keep mine.” He paused, clearly listening to whoever was on the other end of the line. “So what? I’ll figure it out later… No Jazz, YOU don’t understand. It doesn’t matter!” Danny’s legs folded to sit under him, his hunch turning into him leaning forward to be held up by his arm. “I’m not going back, I have nothing to go back to. I’ve lost everything! My home, my friends, and now Dani. I never want to see his face again, if you choose to stay there that’s on you.” He sat up and ended the call, then rose up onto his knees and held the phone up like he was about to smash it. He seemed to think better of it and instead tucked the phone back into his pocket.

“Danny,” Batman started gently, stepping forward.

Danny picked up the little styrofoam box and threw at the wall, it shattered on impact, sending blood, ice, and shards of glass across the floor. The bag followed, hitting the stone with a resounding thwack. He threw his head back and opened his mouth to reveal a wicked set of fangs as he started yelling, one long drawn out note.

A layer of frost splashed across the floor in a circle around Danny. He somehow continued to yell despite not stopping to breathe, the sound somehow twisting into something ear piercing.

Batman stepped back and instinctively covered his ears.

Danny leaned forward, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he continued the yell, something dark flicking from his mouth to little red freckles across the building frost. Blood. It was little droplets of blood. Danny was shredding his own throat in his grief.

Batman rushed to Danny’s side, kneeling on the floor next to the boy and pulling him to lean against his chest. This close he was certain Danny’s yell was going to damage his ears, Bruce only hoped it wouldn’t be permanent.

Danny turned his face to press against Batman’s chest, the yell turning into heart wrenching sobs, thankfully without the power the yell had had. Danny clung to Batman, claws tearing through the cape and armor covering his back. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, freezing Danny’s face to the bat symbol. Bruce started rocking, just letting Danny cry and cry and cry.

💚🦇👻🖤

The next morning Bruce checked over the report he’d made on Danny’s situation to make sure everything made sense and there weren’t any embarrassing typos, then finally sent it to Jim. He leaned back in his office chair and turned to stare out the window. Danny had cried until he’d fallen asleep the night before, sitting on the frozen cave floor as Bruce held him. They’d put the boy to bed after that, but they hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him since. Understandable, it seemed like he’d been under a lot of stress for quite some time, but with as late as the morning had gotten Bruce was beginning to worry.

With a heavy sigh he got up headed for the family wing, Alfred had wisely prepared a room for him after Danny received his news last night. If what he’d said while drowning under that first wave of grief was true then he had no where else to go. And even if he did Alfred would likely keep that room just for him now, just as Dick and Tim and Jason still had rooms in the manor.

Bruce gently knocked on Danny’s door. When no response came he eased the door open and peeked in. The bed was a mess, blankets tossed aside and half falling to the floor. Danny’s shoes were still on the floor next to the bed, the clean clothes lent to Danny were still sitting folded neatly on top of the dresser, untouched. Bruce leaned in a little further to look behind the door, Danny was sitting next to the window, staring listlessly out it.

Bruce cleared his throat, “Good morning, Danny.”

“It’s not,” Danny replied hoarsely.

“No, no I suppose it’s not.” Bruce cringed internally, buried memories of just how raw the world felt when his parents died, what little wasn’t just a long blur. If the other clone, the other Danny was raised next to this one as a twin he can only imagine how that would hurt. He let himself into the room, softly closing the door behind himself. He walked over to the desk and picked up the chair, gently setting it down just across from Danny. “Do you want to talk about him? The other Danny?”

Danny snorted, “It’s Dani with an i, short for Danielle, though she hated being called that about as much as I hate being called Daniel. Guess she got it from me.”

Bruce felt a chill run up his spine. “Got it from you?”

“She wasn’t your clone,” Danny finally looked away from the window, turning his hollow gaze on Bruce, “she was mine.”

Bruce closed his eyes. An original’s relationship with a clone could be very complicated, if they’d been fully aged up they would usually settle on siblings, but if the clone was any younger, and sometimes even if they weren’t, parental feelings could get mixed into that. Danny hadn’t lost a twin, he’d just lost a child.

“It’s how I found out I was a clone, actually, she was so unstable. So were the others, but she was the only one stick around.”

Bruce sat back in his seat heavily, but nodded to show he was still listening.

“It was awful, watching people with my face melt.”

Bruce’s eyes flew back open, melt?! That was not normal!

Danny had gone back to staring out the window, cheek leaning against a hand propped up on the armchair’s arms. “I always thought Dani’d be okay though, even if she also almost melted once. I thought the ecto-dejecto cured her, but it turns out it was just a stop-gap. She wasn’t as old as the others though, guess Vlad stopped aging her when he realized she wasn’t going to be his “perfect son” and all.”

“Rapid aging has been known to cause health problems, but no one who’s had it done to them have lived long enough to know what the long term side effects are.”

Danny nodded. “She was so bright and full of life, so excited to go experience the world.” Danny paused, hand curling into a fist in his lap. “She came back to Amity to celebrate her first birthday…”

Just a baby, even if she were aged up she was still just a baby.

“... and that just happened to be when everything went to shit.”

Silence fell between them then. Bruce wasn’t sure what to say, so like always he simply said nothing. There was a lot they still had to talk about, did Danny really have no home? What were those powers he displayed last night? Who had tried to clone him? Would he please stay? Bruce found himself hoping the answer to that last question was a yes, but he knew logically that Danny needed the support of people he actually knew right now. Bruce could suggest Danny take a shower and change, come downstairs and eat, go outside and get some fresh air, talk and interact and continue living, but Bruce couldn’t bully him into selfcare the way Alfred did for Bruce. Whoever Jazz is might, whoever belonged to the other names in his phone might, but from a practical stranger like Bruce it would only cause Danny more stress.

“You’re welcome to stay here,” Bruce eventually said after the silence had stretched on. Danny blinked owlishly at him. “You didn’t choose how you were born, so far as I’m concerned you’re my son just as much as Damian.”

“I guess,” Danny replied listlessly, turning back to the window.

Bruce stood up, “I know you probably don’t feel hungry right now, but you should eat.” He held a hand out to Danny.

Danny stared at Bruce’s hand for a long moment before finally taking it and standing up, then he allowed Bruce to keep hold of his hand as he led the boy down to the kitchen. It may not seem like much, but it was a start.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[babymetaldoll]

Are you mine? - Chapter eighteen: "Truth or dare"

Summary: Spencer and his wife go through hell and their final decision is made. It's time to move on from the BAU. But before they leave, there is a little more trauma to deal with.  Word count: 13.670 Warnings: Cursing, spoilers of Criminal Mind (shocking, I know) lots of hate, but totally justified. A/N: So we finally got here. We can't act like we didn't know it wasn't going to happen. I can save Spencer from going to jail, but this awkward moment was a must in this story, mostly because I needed Spencer to have moved on with his life. I hated how the show tried to convinced us they were these basically crossed star lovers. NOPE.  Not in my watch, thank you very much. 

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Spencer’s point of view 

Things I never thought I would say in my life: After being held hostage by a psychopath for the fourth time in my BAU career, me and my wife got serious about getting a new job and leaving the FBI.  

Which was my trigger? That time, she was there with me and held a point gun. And that's an image I will never erase from my mind.

That particular case was strange since the very first day. It all had started six months after the whole Linda Barnes disaster, when surprisingly I got an email that led me and a SWAT team to a storage unit, where we found what we thought was the corpse of an unsub’s victim, but that ended up being agent Owen Quinn, who had quit the FBI a year earlier.

- “So, how did we find him in that storage unit?”- Simmons asked when we reviewed Quinn’s history at the Bureau.

- “I got an email.”- I started explaining to the team what had happened when JJ interrupted me.

- “Spencer, you hate email.”- I looked at her and raised an eyebrow. Her comment was absolutely out of place. Who cared if I didn’t like modern formats of communication before? I had changed and didn't have to tell everyone or anyone about it.  

- “I hated it but it’s a must use at work. Also, Raven’s grades and updates from her teacher come by email. Just because I didn’t like something doesn’t mean I will hate it forever. I can evolve.” 

- “I’m… sorry.”- she mumbled as I continued to explain. I didn’t mean to argue with her, I just felt her comment was unnecessary. 

However, she didn’t stop there. After I briefed the team on what had happened and Prentiss instructed us on how to proceed, JJ followed me and confronted me in the hall. 

- “Hey…”- I turned around in the hall and stared at her looking at me in honest concern.- “Tell me not to worry.”

- “About what?”- I asked her, not getting her point. 

- “You got an email?”- her eyes stayed on mine, questioning what I was hiding.

- “I did, I just explained it.” 

- “Ok, maybe I'll buy that. Maybe. But why didn't you just call the rest of us? And why take a SWAT team to a storage unit in the middle of the night?”- she questioned and stared at me, trying to read me in case I was lying. 

- “I don’t understand JJ, what is it?”- I asked her, trying to push her to go to the point, ‘cos I was honestly lost.  

- “You're keeping secrets, ok? And when you keep secrets, I get nervous. Because the last time...

- “I did drugs? Had problems with my mother? Ended up going to Mexico behind everybody’s back to get her alternative medicine?”- I raised an eyebrow as I listed some of the things I had done behind her back. Now, why did she feel I had to tell her I did? I still have no idea. 

- “Yeah. So… Tell me not to worry.”

- “Don't worry. I didn’t keep it a secret. I told Emily and (Y/N). They helped me.”- I rested a hand on her shoulder and she put her hand on mine immediately. I took it as a nice gesture of support, so I continued talking. - “Whoever did this wanted me to find Quinn, and I needed to know why.

- “Do you even know him that well?"

- “No. I mean, I've seen him in the building occasionally, but that just made the whole thing weirder. So, I told Prentiss I needed an exigent circumstances exemption to the sabbatical. She made it happen, and… Now you know everything."- I summarized the whole deal and stared at Jennifer. She raised an eyebrow questioning my story.

- “Everything?”

- “About this case? Yes, everything.”

- “All right.”

JJ smiled at me, and I just nodded and walked away. I thought it was weird she was acting that way, but I guessed after everything that had happened the year before, she was worried anything stressful would push me out of the team, considering I was still taking some time off every trimester to teach classes at the academy. 

The fact she was so worried about me was somehow endearing. JJ had been my best friend for quite some time, and though we weren’t as close as we used to be, I still loved her. She was like a little sister to me. The entire team was my family, and she was a main part of it. 

After a few days, we thought we had solved the whole case. Instead of a serial killer, there had been a cult behind every death. We trapped the leader, a guy called Benjamin Merva who liked being called “Messiah,” and we were sure things were done. 

How very naive of us. 

The team left for drinks at Rossi’s after the case was solved - or so we thought- but my wife and I stayed at the Bureau. We had taken the mission of helping Quinn and his teenage son rebuild their relationship, very seriously. Why? Probably because both of us were scared our work at the BAU would affect our relationship with our kids in the future, but neither of us was ready to face it.

- “Unfortunately, I don't think I'm gonna be able to make it tonight.”- I took a step closer to JJ as we stood alone in the bullpen and she invited me to Rossi's one more time. 

- “Tell me not to worry.”- she whispered and looked at me as if she needed to read me. 

- “Don't. I'm good. I'm really good. There’s just something else I have to focus on.”- I explained as my phone rang and I read (Y/N)’s text from another room. Quinn’s son had arrived.  

- “Ok. Well… It's not family without you there.”

- “I know. But there's another family that could use my help right now.”- I said and placed the phone back into my pocket as JJ stared at me questioningly, so I felt pushed to give her all the details.- “(Y/N) and I are gonna try to smooth things between Quinn and his son, Shane. And then we are gonna have an evening with our babies. They deserve some quality time with us before bedtime.” 

- “You are an amazing father, Spencer.”- I smiled at her and wrapped her in my arms out of the blue. I don't usually give it a lot of thought, but I know I’ve changed a lot in the last couple of years. I stepped from being a germaphobe who avoided touching people to a mostly regular human. Or so I like to think. 

- “What's this for?”- JJ asked, confused as I let her go. 

- “It's for all the times you worried about me. I never said thank you. Thank you.

- “You're welcome.” 

I walked away from her feeling a little closer to my friend, thinking we take for granted so many things, working with the people we love was one of those. I was glad I had her and the rest of the team in my life. 

But things went south quickly. Too quickly to suspect it was a coincidence. When I found Shane, Quinn’s son, (Y/N) wasn’t with him anymore, she had gone to pick up Quinn. We waited for them a couple of minutes, as I told Shane what had happened with his father the entire year he hadn’t seen him. When my phone rang and it was JJ, I barely had time to register what she was saying, ‘cos a gunshot made me jump from my seat, grab my gun, and run out of the room, asking Shane to stay put. 

(Y/N)’s point of view 

I knew my luck was gonna run out eventually. I had been at the BAU for too long not to get hurt on the field again, or get under any dangerous situation. That day, I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time: at the elevator when Agent Meadow, from ViCap, decided it was time to blow her cover, show us she was an accomplice of our unsub, and basically free her "messiah".

Penelope got in that elevator with us as well, she was on her way to Rossi’s and got in the middle of a very scary situation. Meadow shot Quinn and got me and Garcia into a car in the parking area at gunpoint. By the time Spencer was there, they had taken my gun, handcuffed me, and put me and Garcia into a car.

My husband came down the stairs and checked the perimeter. There he found Quinn, bleeding on the floor, and Meadow walked to him, pointing a gun at his head. 

- “Drop your gun, Agent Reid.”

- “It’s been you the whole time.”- my husband replied, not moving as he kept the gun in his hands pointing at her.

- “Yes, it was. Quinn somehow figured it out first. Pity having to shoot him, but he can’t give me what I want. But you can.”

- “And what is that?”- Spencer asked coldly. Penelope looked at me, as we both were kept in that car with a guy pointing a gun at our heads.    

- “You and I are gonna go upstairs and free my messiah.”- Meadow was clearly delusional if she believed Spencer would just do as she demanded. 

- “You are in the heart of the FBI”- my husband replied. - “As soon as the rest of my team figures out it was you, you’ll be dead before you walk out that door.”

- “Then we might need to work quickly.” 

- “I’m not cooperating with you. You might as well shoot me.”

- “I have a better idea.”- and after that bitch shook her head, the driver moved the car so Spencer could see me and Garcia had been taken hostage, and the asshole pointing a gun at our head pulled my hair to force me to stay still.

The second we locked eyes, I could read the fear in his look. He didn’t see it coming, obviously. I felt so stupid for being taken by the unsub. I should have been wiser.  

- “Spencer, just shoot her!! Shoot her!!”- I yelled, but my husband threw his gun away and surrendered in a second. He didn’t even hesitate. I knew he would never put my safety in jeopardy, but I hated helping those wackos get their fake messiah back and get away from the FBI. Which was exactly what happened next.

It didn’t get better when they took us to a warehouse filled with people and packed things, clearly they were moving somewhere else. Meadow walked to us with a briefcase 

- “I wasn’t planning on taking you, but let me thank you for your help.”- she said, staring at me with a delish grin.- “He's given me everything I need.” 

- “Of course he has, he is protecting his family. You do anything to protect those you love.”- I replied with so much anger and hate I expected her to get mad at me. But instead, she just shook her head. 

- “Funny. You say that as if I wouldn't know.” 

- “Do you know? Really? ‘Cos as fast as I know, you are a fucking psychopath, like all the ones you pretended to help us catch for years.”

- “Yes!”- Penelope supported me, her words filled with hate.- “You’ve abducted us, you've tricked the FBI for years, and you worship that Benjamin Merva guy.”

- “I need your handiwork.”- Meadow demanded as she opened the briefcase, showing Gacia a computer.  

- “Let me see Reid.”- my friend replied and didn’t hesitate. 

- “He isn't here.”- I huffed and shook my head while she was still talking.  

- “Come on, bitch, you are dealing with a profiler here. If you are gonna lie, do it better.”

- “Like I lied to the entire FBI for years?”- I wanted to end her, right there. It was so frustrating being handcuffed.  

- “Do you need my help”- Garcia asked.- “Then bring Reid.” 

- “Does it look like you are the one calling the shots, Penelope?”- Meadow questioned and my friend replied without hesitation. 

- “I will die before I help you.”- the guy next to Meadow grabbed his gun, but the fake FBI agent stared at us and walked away. I guess she really needed Garcia’s help, because less than ten minutes later, some random guy who looked like a bodyguard, completely armed, showed up pushing my husband. 

- “Oh my god”- I gasped at the sight of him. He was bruised, he had clearly received a heavy beating. He was thrown to us, and he fell on his knees right next to my chair. 

- “I’m ok, chipmunk. I swear.”- he tried to look at me with a smile, but my eyes watered up at the sight of him and I had to make a major effort not to start crying right away.- “How are you? Have they hurt you?”

- “I’m good, they haven’t… don’t worry about me.”- I tried to reply with a calm voice, but it kept breaking due to emotion, fear, and anger. 

- “Why are they doing this? What do they want?”- Garcia asked as I just bit my lips, staring at my husband, thinking maybe this time we weren’t gonna outsmart the bad guys.

- “Me. They want me.”- Spencer replied but didn’t stop staring at me like it was the last time.  I felt he wanted to engrave every detail of that conversation in his brain as if it were our last time together.

- “What? Why?”- I asked as Spencer moved closer to me.  

- “I’ll be their last victim.˝

- “Why you?”- Garcia asked the right question, I couldn’t even speak. I just looked at Spencer, fear all over my face. 

- “I don’t know. I overheard them. There have been hundredths.”- Meadows walked over and gave Garcia a computer. I tried to move closer to my husband, I needed to touch him, feel him, protect him. But what happened next brought me to the edge.  

- “I gave you what you wanted. Now it's your turn.”- Meadow grabbed her gun and put it against my husband’s head, staring at Garcia- “Or I'll blow his big, beautiful brains out.” 

And without another word, Garcia started working. Meadow kept a close eye on what she was doing, giving detailed instructions of what she Pen had to do. Meanwhile, I just stared at Spencer, trying to burn in my brain every feature, every inch of her skin, his hair, the way his eyes looked under the light. In case anything happened to any of us, I didn’t want to forget anything. My husband, the love of my life, was right there with me, but who knew what could happen to us in only a few minutes.

When Meadow’s cell phone rang and she turned her back to us, we were able to finally speak to each other. 

- “They've got a firewall, so there's no way to warn the team, but they're coming for us. You know they are.”- Garcia started rambling as he typed as if, literally, her life depended on it. - “We're gonna be ok. We have to be ok.”- I turned to her and tried to comfort her with a small smile, but I don’t think I made it, because as soon as she saw me, she continued talking.- “No, munchkin, it’s gonna be ok, right Spencer? We're not gonna die here. This can't be how our story ends.” 

- “Garcia…”- I started, but our friend just ignored me and continued talking.

- “What can we do? They'll trade. We'll make a barter!”- and before we could stop her, she raised her voice, but was luckily ignored- “Take me!”

- “No.”- Spencer’s words sounded bitter like he was already resigned.

- “The team needs you.”- Garcia pointed out with tears in her eyes. 

- “No, they don't. They need you.”- my husband stared at our friend, trying to comfort her.- “And you, chipmunk. You have to…-” 

- “No, we are not doing this.”- I replied and bit my lips so as not to cry.- “You are not saying goodbye.”  

- “Please, you have to listen. If I can’t make it… our babies.”

- “They need us.”- I said before another word could come from my husband’s lips. 

- “You two are the most brilliant minds in the entire BAU. What can we do to get out of here?”- Garcia whispered as Meadows walked to her and pointed at the computer. 

- “You've got one minute.”

- “I hate you.”- I don’t think I had ever heard Penelope say those words before. 

- “I don't care.”

The way that psycho bitch delivered those words confirmed my husband’s thought: he was who they wanted. She actually didn’t care about Garcia, and by the way she treated me, she also didn’t care much if I lived or died. However, Spencer was important to her. He was part of her plan all along. But why? 

- “(Y/N), listen to me.”- Spencer whimpered and nearly started crying, but I could read him from miles away. He was bluffing.

- “What is it, Spencer?”- I replied sweetly, playing along.

- “Please tell our kids…”- Meadow’s cell phone rang again, and as she walked away, my husband moved closer to me and Garcia and whispered. 

- “They're taking me and Theo.”

- “Theo's here?”- Pen asked, shocked

- “We'll distract them. The car we were in is right outside the door. We're 18 minutes away from Quantico. Turn left outside the parking lot, and take a right at the light. You'll recognize the rest. They stayed off the highways.”- I nodded as he kept his eyes on me, giving me directions step by step.

- “Ok, ok, but what about you?”- I asked, not willing to leave him behind. 

- “I'll delay them.”

- “Spencer, I don’t…”

- “(Y/N), get the rest of the team back here, and do not worry about me.”

It was how he had said my name and the stern way he looked at me. He had made up his mind, and there was no way back. If I wanted to do something to keep my husband safe, I needed to bring the team and rescue him. But before I left, I had to tell him something I had been keeping to myself.  

- “I think I’m pregnant.”- Spencer wide opened his eyes and for a moment, time stopped.

- “W… wh… what?”- he mumbled, trying to collect himself. 

- “So you better stay alive, because I am not doing this alone.”  

- “Time's up!”- Meadows walked towards us again and forced Spencer to stand up from the ground. I followed his every movement and stood in front of him. 

- “It's all happening. Ten twenty-three.”- he whispered right before they took him away from me. I couldn’t even touch him one last time. 

Had that been the last time I had seen my husband? I refused to think so. 

- “Get to it. Now”- Meadows commanded Garcia and turned to cut me a nasty look. My hands were still tight, so I couldn’t handle her myself, but I managed to spit her face when she was close enough, earning one nasty slap across my cheek. 

- “Don’t make me kill you before my master wishes.” 

- “Yeah, nobody wants to spoil that party.”- my snarky reply made that crazy psycho raise an eyebrow and then, her fist hit me right on the cheekbone, nearly knocking me out of my chair. 

Spencer’s point of view 

That day my entire world was upside down. I knew I had to keep myself together, that I had to trust the team would see the footage of our abduction and find my sign language hidden message, connect it with The Believers, and find us. I knew they would. But my main concern at that minute was getting my wife out of there. The two of us couldn’t be abducted. Our kids needed their parents, at least one of them, to be safe. And that had to be my wife. I knew she would take good care of our babies if anything happened to me. I also knew I could never continue living if anything would ever happen to her. 

Under any danger, she had to live. Even if that meant I had to die to save her. Especially after her last confession. If she was in fact pregnant, I had to save her and our baby. 

So I created a distraction, with Theo’s help. And (Y/N) and Garcia managed to escape. I knew they were gonna find me, I had given (Y/N) the way to discover our location. It was her and the thought of our babies that kept me sane the entire time. For hours, I held onto every memory I had with them to keep hoping I was coming out of that alive just to hug them tight. 

It hadn't been easy, I have to be honest. Not when I was already tight to a pole, surrounded by the entire cult, who were there to witness my death. I even tried to delay them by making a speech, with the lame excuse of having something to share before my sacrifice. They were actually repeating a “Protect us from all harm. Let the sacrifice behind” mantra as Merva said a prayer. 

Then, suddenly, we all heard a gunshot and the crowd started yelling and ducking. Merva knew what was coming: my team, So, he quickly grabbed a knife and ran to me, putting the blade against my neck in less than five seconds. (Y/N)’s voice was like the rumble of thunder that froze him when she yelled his name, but instead of yielding, Merva tried to fulfill his mission. And then came the gunshot. 

My wife pulled the trigger and ran to me so fast, I don’t think Merva was actually dead yet when she started untying me. 

- “I’m ok, I’m ok.”- I started repeating when I noticed her eyes were watering up as she moved her fingers frantically on the ties. Emily ran to Merva and checked his vitals as the rest of the team along with a SWAT unit cleared the perimeter. 

- “Thank you so much.”- I held (Y/N) against me the second she managed to free my wrist and felt her body shaking as she finally relaxed and all the emotions hit her at once. 

- “Did they hurt you?”- she mumbled against my chest and I just shook my head, knowing she knew I was lying, and tried to calm her down. 

- “I am ok, chipmunk. Thank you for saving my life.”- her arms kept me locked against her, but I couldn’t complain. That was exactly where I wanted to be.  

(Y/N) sobbed and I kissed the top of her head. A few of my own tears fell down my cheeks. For a second, I thought I wouldn’t make it out of there alive, and I finally felt it was the right time. 

- “We should start looking for another job.”- I whispered in her ear as she continued crying and nodded. It was just between us, we didn’t want to talk to Emily yet. But we had to start our plan to leave the BAU. 

Emily gave us a few days off, and we decided to spend them at home with our babies. The first thing on the list was hugging them, snuggling with them, and spending an entire day doing what they loved most. We drew, watched movies, played with dolls, cars, and trains, and had so many tea parties.  

I also stared at my wife as many times as I could. I stared at her as she cooked dinner for us, as she fed Vincent his veggies- though he argued he didn’t need them to grow up healthy. I kept my eyes on her when she read Raven bedtime stories and when she braided her hair. But mostly, I stared at her as she lay asleep beside me on our bed, thanking life for letting me enjoy another day by her side. 

The following morning after our abduction, I drove to the drugstore and picked up a few different pregnancy home tests. (Y/N) stayed at home with the kids and was probably getting mentally ready to deal with the outcome of that test. We always said we wanted a big family, but we had planned our previous babies. If (Y/N) was in fact pregnant, it would be a gigantic surprise. Not that I wouldn’t be happy, it would just be unexpected. 

When I returned home, (Y/N) was sitting on the floor with Raven, playing with her dolls. Vincent was sitting on her lap, fighting the nap he clearly didn’t want to sleep, though his eyes were closing every few seconds. 

- “Daddy!”- Raven stood up and ran to me.- “Mommy is teaching a class for all my Barbies, so they can be doctors, like you!” 

- “That sounds so much fun! Can I take the class?”

- “But you are not a Barbie, daddy.”- I picked Raven in my arms and kissed her cheeks and she started giggling immediately. 

- “Are you gonna do it now?”- I asked as my wife grabbed the paper bag with all the pregnancy tests I got her in the drugstore. 

- “Do you want me to do it now?”- she asked and smirked, probably knowing how anxious I felt. Yet, I tried to play it cool.  

- “No, you don’t have to do it now. Maybe after dinner.”- I pointed at the babies, hinting it was better to do it after they were asleep. My wife just nodded and continued playing with Raven. I took Vinny in my arms and let him sleep on my chest as I laid on the couch in the living room and just enjoyed the moment of peace I had knowing my entire family was safe, there in that room with me. 

But of course, I couldn’t stop thinking about the possibility of my wife being pregnant again. It seemed like a dream. We hadn’t even planned it, so I don’t know if it was actually possible, (Y/N) was very responsible with her pills. However, if her suspicions were true, I would have been the happiest man alive. The more kids, the better for me. If Raven and Vincent made me feel overjoyed, another kid would be a blessing. 

- “It’s killing you not knowing, is it?”- (Y/N) whispered as she leaned closer to me when Raven ran to her room to pick a few toys to play with. 

- “I don’t know what you are talking about.”- I murmured from behind the book I was holding though my mind was running so fast I wasn’t really reading, and Vincent still softly snored on my chest. 

- “Oh really? Then why haven’t you flipped the page in over fifteen minutes?”- I was busted and I knew it, but I didn’t want to be pushy. 

- “I just don’t want to disturb my son’s nap.”- I replied and raised an eyebrow as I stared at my wife, who had a cocky smile on her lips. 

- “Sure, sure.”- Raven ran back into the room that minute, and (Y/N) murmured before she could listen.- “Maybe I’ll wait until the morning to be really sure.”

- “Oh come on!”- my reaction wasn’t planned or even analyzed, I just lost it for a second, Vinny woke up and (Y/N) burst out laughing. 

- “I don’t wanna torture you, Batsy.” 

- “Don’t torture daddy!”- Raven said nearly shocked.- “We don’t have to be mean to our family.”- (Y/N) bit her lips and just nodded, as I shushed our son, who was still half asleep. 

- “You are right baby, I’m sorry hon. I’m going to the bathroom now. I’ll be back in three minutes.” 

I followed her with my eyes as Vinny fell asleep quickly on me one more time, and Raven kept singing the Baby Shark song underbreath, while she made her dolls dance along. 

Those were the longest four minutes of my life, and when (Y/N) came back, she sat on the couch next to me and sighed. 

- "So?"- I asked and she simply ignored the pink elephant in the room.

- “We are gonna have to get some groceries later today.”- I frowned, not getting why she said that when I was waiting for another information.- “I’m gonna need a lot of saltine crackers, ginger, lemon tea, and some jello.” 

I stared at my wife smiling at me, as I felt my grin grow bigger and bigger and the tears threatened to fall from my eyes. 

- “I love you so much, chipmunk.”- I managed to whisper as she rested her head on my shoulder and caressed Vinny’s head, who was softly snoring one more time against my chest.

- “I love you more, honey.”

(Y/N)’s point of view

The following months were crazy because we had to move to our new house sooner than we had originally planned. I didn’t want to do it too far into my pregnancy because I knew it would be extremely stressful and tiring for all of us. 

The entire family helped, our friends included. It was hard for Spencer to leave our old apartment behind, I could read it on his face. But it was too small for all of us, and our babies deserved more space, a backyard to play in, a neighborhood to ride their bikes on, and the best childhood we could give them. 

Those were some crazy months. We had decided to quit the FBI and then discovered I was pregnant. So we decided to stay for another year and leave when things weren’t as crazy as they were at that point. We didn’t want people to know our plans, so we decided not to share the news with anyone until the date got closer. 

Somehow, after that shitty case when Spencer and I got kidnapped along with Garcia, things were a little calmer. Luke moved in with his girlfriend, Emily started dating Special Agent Andrew Mendoza (and of course, thought she could keep it a secret from us) and Rossi got engaged to Krysstal, with a K. Spencer took a month sabbatical to teach a symposium on medieval violence and criminology, which was great considering how pregnant I got after the first trimester, that third baby wasn’t hiding at all. 

One of the good things that happened that year was that Mikey became a dad. He had married Rachel a year earlier, she was a coworker and the only nice girlfriend that poor guy had ever had. She was so cool we could all just hang out together and enjoy our time.

I knew my best friend felt he was “late” in things in life. He wanted to be a dad and do all the things he always dreamt of doing with his baby girl. The day Olivia was born, Mikey was ecstatic. He ran out of the delivery room and started jumping while his parents, Lu, Frank, Spencer, and myself stood in front of him, ready to hear the news. 

- “She’s perfect!!”- Mikey basically yelled and we all cheered. 

I remember hugging my best friend and hearing him sob against my shoulder. Tears of happiness and fear. Later on, one day I was alone with him and the babies, he told me the most touching and heavy thing I had heard from him since I joined the FBI.  

- “I always hated your job ‘cause it took you away way too often. But I had never understood how important it is what you do until Olivia got here. You make this world safer for her. Thank you, nugget.” 

It made me wanna cry to think I was ready to turn my back to that life. But I couldn’t fight crime forever. I had to do what was best for my family. 

Things started going south a few weeks before Rossi’s wedding. That was when we met Everett Lynch, the unsub that got under Rossi’s skin. Papa Pasta suffered on the field, he was nearly choked when he tried to fight the unsub, and the bastard got away. Poor David got the hit right where it hurts the most: in the ego. In the following weeks, he got obsessed with catching that dude but eventually was forced to let it go. At least for a while. 

Two days before Rossi’s wedding, we were running low on cases. The first day we finished all of our paperwork, but by day two with no work, we decided to kill time with some Poker.

I remember that day we were all in a great mood. We sat around the table in the conference room with some snacks. Garcia showed up with some jelly beans to use as chips for a poker game. Luke kept asking if we got to go home if there was nothing to do, and Lewis was teasing him about anything you could imagine. I was six months pregnant and my current craving was dill pickles popcorn, a mix none of my friends understood, and they all stared at me, disgusted as I ate.

I also remember clearly Spencer had scored 200 on his shooting qualification test that morning, and I didn’t like the way JJ looked at him when Luke told us. But I decided to put it aside ‘cos I was sure it was all in my head. I laughed when Simmons commented he thought Spencer would be the hot seat of the game, and I proudly informed him my husband was banned for life from every casino in Las Vegas, Laughlin, and Pahrump because of his card counting ability. 

- “I love how you always sound so proud when you bring that up.”- Emily teased me and I just grinned, caressing my belly. 

- “I am very proud of all of my husband’s skills.”- I replied and noticed how JJ looked down as the rest of the team laughed.

- “Keep it G rated for Christ's sake! I don’t wanna have that kind of image in my head right now.”- Penelope argued and my husband just sipped what was left of his cup, looking away with a silly smile, blushed. 

- “Can we circle back to the casino banning?”- Simmons pointed out and looked at Spencer.- “Is it true?”

- “With a deck of 52 cards, the number of combinations is a factorial of 52. You simply need to calculate your outs and then your implied odds. Math is the basis of all card games.”- Spencer explained proudly and everyone just nodded, not following his mathematical explanation. 

- “All right, ladies and gentlemen. Today's game's five cards. Roll them out. The big blind is 50. The baby is 25.”- Lewis chuffed the deck and Prentiss leaned closer to me looking confused.

- “We are still playing poker, right?”

- “Yes ma’am, but I don’t know if I’ll follow it for much longer considering how sleepy I am.” 

- “You can nap on the couch in my office.”- she offered and I sighed with a smile. 

- “Thank you, Em. I will consider it if my eyes start shouting” 

Forty minutes later, I ran out of popcorn, which led me to start eating the jelly beans I had to bet, and ended up folding. I was too sleepy to think and it was fun watching my husband kicking everybody’s ass. That until the last hand. I remember staring at the scene from my chair thinking it was weird the way JJ pushed all of her jelly beans to the center of the table making eye contact with my husband the entire time. She was being seductive and it made me feel uncomfortable. Or was she just bluffing? Playing along with the poker charade. I couldn’t tell, I didn’t know and I didn’t want to be a paranoid wife. So I didn’t say a word and just stared at her and Spencer interacting. 

- “Do you think the lady's bluffing?”- Luke asked as we all stared at them in silence. 

- “I know the lady's bluffing because she has a tell.”- Spencer explained and looked at JJ with a cocky smile. A cocky and very hot smile, if you ask me. 

- “No, I don't.”- JJ whispered and raised an eyebrow. Spencer simply grabbed all of his remaining jelly beans and pushed them to the middle of the table saying he was going all in and then winked at me. I cut him a short smile, still uncomfortable, but knowing he didn’t even realize it was weird. Probably no one else did, actually. It was me who had always had a weird sensation when it came to JJ. Lu said it was because Spencer had had a crush on her before we met and I was crazy insecure, which was true. But no one could shake from me that there was something weird there. 

- “Oh, I like it. Live by the sword, die by the sword.”- Luke was really enjoying that game- “I call.”

- “All right, let's see 'em.”- Tara commanded and Alvez showed his hand. He had three of a kind, king high.- “Perfectly respectable, but not getting it done.”- Lewis added and we all looked at Spencer. 

- “Pair of kings, pair of sevens.”- he placed the cards in front of him and smiled evilly- “Oh, I'm sorry, three sevens.”

I chuckled at his excited and villainous smile. He looked so sweet. The rest of the team made “ohh” in a chorus and Spencer kept his eyes on JJ, waiting for her response.  

- “A full boat from the sassy Dr. Reid.”- Lewis announced and JJ simply left her cards on the table. She didn’t stop staring at my husband the entire time. I didn’t really like it one bit, but I thought it was the hormones. I didn't want to be a crazy pregnant woman, paranoid and scared to lose her husband. 

- “Oh, a straight flush! That has to hurt!”- Lewis was really enjoying the game.  

- “Gentlemen.”- JJ smiled as she collected all of her jellybeans. Spencer looked defeated for a second, but then a shy smile appeared on his face. I held his hand and he caressed it with his in a second. 

- “I think that Reid is speechless.”- Simmon teased him and he just shook his head. 

- “Guess I'm a better liar than you thought.”- JJ said and stared at Spencer for a few seconds, until he laughed and turned to me. 

- “Do you need a refill of popcorn, chipmunk?” 

- “No, thank you, hon. I’m actually considering a nap on Prentiss’s couch. She offered it earlier and I think I could use a little extra sleep. 

- “Sounds like a nice plan. I could come with you and read a little.”

Sadly, those plans were soon discharged because Emily turned to us after getting a text and said the words I learned to hate the most: 

- “We've got a case.” 

We took the jet to Los Angeles. Rossi included. He was with Krystall going through the last details of their upcoming wedding when we were briefed but made it to the jet on time. 

- “I don’t think you should be going to out-of-town cases anymore, (Y/N).”- Prentiss said as we got ready to take off.- “You are way into your pregnancy to fly.” 

- “I don’t think Rossi should be going on this field trip.”- I replied just to annoy my unit chief.- “Captain Cannelloni is gonna marry in two days. That’s sooner than my delivery date.” 

- “Just for your information, I promised Krystall I would be back on time for the ceremony, so let’s try to catch this guy as fast as possible.”- Rossi sat in front of me and added with a wink- “And it’s Papa Pasta for you.” 

- “Maybe we should consider this your last case out of town”- Spencer sat by my side and offered me a bottle of water. - “Garcia would be glad to have you as a sidekick again.” 

- “She will overfeed me and the kid would be thrilled.”- I replied with a little smile.- “But I’ll miss you too much.” 

- “Oh please stop it.”- Rossi argued right away.- “You’ve been married forever. There is no way you are still this adorable. I can not take it anymore.”

I rested my head on my husband’s shoulder and he caressed my six-month belly carefully. 

- “Don’t encourage them.”- Emily warned him.- “You know they can be worse.”

- “So much worse.”- I added and Rossi just smiled at me. 

Eighteen hours after we had landed, and already had identified the unsub and his M.O. Casey Pinkner was a piece of work, as Garcia categorized. He had spent most of his youth in and out of the system, had problems with alcohol, and had been in jail for eight years. In fact, he had been free for only four weeks and he was already deep in shit.

But that wasn’t the worst part. No. It was the fact Spencer was currently held hostage in a jewelry store by the unsub along with JJ, the judge who sentenced him to jail, and her daughter. 

It was the same shit all over again, and I couldn't deal with it anymore. Was my husband coming home with me that night? Was he going to make it safe? My heart and my stomach were a knot. My hands were shaking, I wasn’t taking it well. You can blame the hormones, I know I did, but honestly, I knew it was exhaustion. I didn’t want to be through that hell one more time. I didn’t want my husband in danger. We couldn't do that job for another day. 

I knew we had set our quitting date after the baby was born, but at that moment, I didn’t know if I could go on like that. My mental health was in danger every time my husband’s safety was in jeopardy.  

- “Rear entrance has been barricaded as well.”- Simmons announced as we stood out of the store. Emily didn’t want me there and begged me to stay at the station, but nothing would stop me from trying to save my husband that night. And I don't think anyone dared try to keep me away.  

- “Eyewitnesses put four or five people inside.”- the police chief added. 

- “What about security cameras?”- I asked, feeling Rossi put a hand on my shoulder, trying to help me stay grounded and calm. 

- “Employee says they're cheap, routed off of some server in China. We're trying to access them now.” 

- “Get Garcia on it.”- David asked Simmons, and he just nodded and walked away. 

- “Rapid response team is gearing up in the back."- the chief of police announced. -"As soon as they find a point of vulnerability, I want to go in strong.” 

- “No. No, that's a bad idea.”- Tara stopped the chief and shook her head. I nearly jumped on him to tell him that was the stupidest thing to do all things considered, but Rossi stopped me with his arm around me, as he said. 

- “Let's build a line of communication, start there.”- David's words sounded like a command, though he would have called his idea a “suggestion” instead.- “We've got two of our best agents in there. We need to trust that they'll keep things under control until we can find a way in.” 

The chief of police agreed and walked away. As soon as it was just me, Rossi, and Tara, I spoke my mind. 

- “The problem with that plan is that Casey is not likely to ask for anything. I mean, what he wants is the people who put him in jail and he has them. We can't negotiate with a guy who doesn't want anything.” 

- “We’ll find a way to get to him, (Y/N).”- Rossi assured me.- “They are gonna be fine.” 

But a few minutes later we realized building a fucking line of communication was impossible. No one picked up the phone inside, proving my point, which made me so angry I nearly started shouting curses at anyone who dared cross my way. Simmons’ announcement was the one thing that kept me sane that second. 

- “I got Garcia. She's seconds away from accessing the security feed. Go ahead, Garcia. We got the laptop.”- it took her a few seconds more, but finally, I had eyes on my husband.

- “This is live.”- Garcia announced.

- “I’m gonna kill that mother fucker.”- I whispered as soon as I saw my husband tied on the floor, JJ was standing, talking with the unsub, probably trying to find a way to get out of there.   

- “Ok. Alright, it looks like Reid and JJ are tied up, and it's the shop manager who was shot. Right? Look. She's still moving.”- Tara pointed out, but sadly, all I could see was Spencer. 

- “Do we have audio?”- Simmons asked. 

- “Yes, it should be on right… now.”- and as she spoke, we heard what was happening inside the store. 

- “Is that a door?”- Simmons noticed.

- “Where?”- I asked, trying to find it on the outside of the store. 

- “Right here. Far left wall.” 

- “Ok agent…”- the unsub asked JJ and she replied coldly. That was the first sound we got from inside the shop.

- “Jareau.” 

- “Agent Jareau. Truth or dare?”

- “Truth.”- Jennifer answered without hesitation. 

- “If I think you're lying or stretching the truth in the slightest, I'll kill him.”- Casey, the unsub, screamed and pointed at my husband with the gun. - “You ever shoot anybody before?”

- “Yes, I have.”- JJ answered right away. 

- “You enjoy it?” 

- “No.”- there was a deep silence after Jennifer answered. Casey walked away from her, and then suddenly, he turned around and shot around, screaming. 

- “Liar!!”- I gasped and held my belly. The shot had hit the chair right next to Spencer. A few inches and he would have been hurt. Maybe even…

- “No, no, no. I'm not lying!”- JJ argued frenetically- “I'm not lying! The people I shot I had no choice, but I did not enjoy it. I didn't!” 

Tara held my hand as we stared at the scene. I couldn’t deal with the image of Spencer just sitting there, defenseless at the will of a killer, while I just stood outside, unable to do anything to help him. 

- “Ok, you asked, and I told the truth, ok. I told you the truth.”- JJ continued talking.- “So now it's my turn. Right? That's how this game's played. We take turns.”- she was buying some time, but I didn’t know if Casey was gonna let her.- “Truth or dare?” 

- “Truth.”- of course he picked that. Psycho.

- “What's it gonna take for all of us to walk out of here alive, for this to end peacefully?” 

- “I ain't going back to prison.”- he simply replied and no one could argue with it.- “My turn. Truth or dare?” 

- “Truth.”- JJ said and kept making eye contact with the unsub, trying to find a way to get to him.  

- “I want you to say something you're afraid to say, that you'd never tell anybody.”- his face was red in anger as he kept pointing his gun at her.- “And you better make it good, 'cause if it's not, it's gonna be the last thing you ever say.”

Casey made a pause and I held my breath. All I could think of at that moment was how stupid I felt for being jealous of JJ. It had been stupid, she was my friend. I shouldn’t think of her that way, she would never do anything to hurt me or my family. Stupid hormones got me all crazy.

- “What's it gonna be?!”- Casey pushed her. 

- “There are only a few people I trust in this world.”- JJ’s answer wasn’t good enough. 

- “Boring!”- the unsub whined and shot the judge in the leg. I nearly jumped on the spot as I stared at the scene. For a second, I thought he was going to hurt my husband. 

- “Next!”- Casey yelled and pointed the gun back at Jennifer. 

- “Um… My…”- JJ started stuttering.- “My baby I lost, I, um… I wanted to name her Maggie.” 

- “Wrong! Come on, you can do better than that!”- the unsub yelled and my husband innocently tried to interfere. 

- “Casey…”

- “Shut up!”- but of course, he wasn’t gonna have it. He walked to JJ and forced her to kneel. 

- “Ok, ok, ok.”- she replete and nodded at him, surrendering. 

- “Last chance. Something you would never say aloud, not even to your partner here. Your deepest, darkest secret. Impress me or I kill him.” 

I gasped and held my belly. I felt my whole body shaking at the thought of losing Spencer. 

Not a sound was made for a few seconds. JJ was crying, desperate to find something that would save everybody. But she was running out of time. 

- “Come on!”- Case wasn’t having any of it, his patience was nonexistent. 

- “Spence, um…”- JJ hesitated before she continued talking. My husband turned to her in silence, just listening to what she had to say.- “Um…”

JJ was crying, whatever it was that she was going to say, she wasn’t lying, and it was hurting her to confess it. Whatever it was, I was sure it wasn’t as bad as… 

- “I've always loved you, Spence.”

It felt like a bad joke at first. Of course, she was lying. She had to say whatever she could to get out of there alive. She was forced to say something like that.    

- “And I was just too scared to say it before.”- JJ was crying her eyes out as she clearly confessed the darkest secret she had ever had. 

I didn't even have to analyze the whole situation or use my profiler abilities to know it was real. She was confessing being in love with my husband and Rossi, Tara, Penelope, Simmons and I were listening. I wasn’t making it up. It was real. JJ was in love with my husband. 

My biggest fear was real.

- “And things are just really too complicated to say it now.”- JJ was sobbing and Spencer wasn’t moving. I bet he wasn’t even blinking at that point. His friend was dropping a bomb and he was there, silent, not knowing what to say, or how to react. - “I’m sorry. But you should know.”- JJ whimpered.  

- “Hot damn!”- Casey chuckled.- “That's what I'm talking about! Now those are some last words right there. But not good enough to save your life.” 

My heart stopped the second I heard a gunshot. But that time, it wasn’t Casey’s. It was Spencer. He had freed himself somehow and shot the unsub with his second gun. 

- “We are going in.”- Rossi announced a second later. I wiped off the tears from my face, grabbed my gun, and rushed in along with the team.

- “(Y/N), wait, I don’t think you should…”- Tara put a hand on my shoulder and looked at me, worried.

- “I’m not gonna shoot her, if that’s what you are afraid of.”- I replied and kept moving. I wish I could tell you I was certain of my words, but honestly, I didn’t know what I was going to do. 

I followed the SWAT Unit and Rossi’s lead, holding my gun tight. I heard JJ’s voice announcing we had three people hurt and that we needed an ambulance. I tried to ignore her voice and the reaction it caused in me as I rushed inside and looked at Spencer. His eyes were blurry, and his mind was clearly uneasy. My husband wasn’t well at all. I was sure that confession was messing with his head in more ways than he would ever admit. 

But as soon as he saw me, his eyes watered up and I rushed into his arms. 

- “What are you doing here?”- he asked as I sobbed against his chest.- “Chipmunk, you shouldn’t be on the field. What if…” 

- “I can’t… I couldn’t stay away. I…”- Spencer kissed the top of my head and held me closer.

- “I’m ok. I’m ok. Nothing happened.”- he whispered and caressed my hair. I tried to calm myself down, but things were definitely at a new level of wrong. 

- “We all heard her.”- I whispered and looked into Spencer’s eyes. He seemed shocked by the news, he probably thought I was never going to know what had happened. Maybe his plan was never telling me about it. It sounded like the type of plan Spencer came up with to deal with things he didn't want to burden me with. It could have been the right decision… or not. I don’t know. I don’t think I’ll ever know.  

- “How… why… How are you?”- he asked and looked as worried as if I was the one who hurt the most by that confession. Around us, Rossi checked Casey on the floor, and the rest of the team took care of the hostages and the wounded. I wasn’t being professional at all. All I cared about at that second was my husband's well-being. 

- “I don’t know how to deal with this now."- I confessed and kept him close to me- "You?” 

- “I don’t think it’s relevant.”- he replied bluntly.- “I don’t even know if it’s actually true.” 

- “It is.”- there was no doubt in my words and Spencer knew it. He knew JJ wasn’t lying as well, but he kept trying to protect me. Or to deny the inevitable. 

- “We don’t have to talk about it now, ma cherie. Let’s get out of here, ok?”- that was when I realized Spencer’s hand had been cut.

- “You need a medic.”- I held his hand and stared at the injury. 

- “It’s not serious, just a small cut.”

- “Stop that. You have to get help. Come on.”

I held Spencer’s good hand as we walked out of the room. I refused to look at JJ because I knew myself. I was going to make a scene and that wasn’t the place or the time to face her. 

I could feel her gaze on us, though. I didn’t know if she was aware we had all heard her love confession, but she kept an eye on us, or at least on Spencer as the medics took care of his hand outside the jewelry store. We stopped by the police station afterward to pick up all of our things and finally rushed to the jet. We were all late, Rossi still had to get married the following day at noon. 

No one mentioned JJ’s confession, not when I was around, at least. I knew Rossi wanted to bring it up but didn’t know how or when. He had probably talked to Emily about it already. I don’t know. Maybe I was just being paranoid. All I could think of was that I had been right all along. All those times I felt JJ was staring at Spencer or acting flirty with him, or whatever detail that showed her true feelings hadn’t been paranoid. I had been right. 

Honestly, at that point in my life, I wished I had been wronged because I was forced to face the fact my so-called friend was in love with my husband. She had used the word “love.” Not crushed, not interested, not even hot for him. She was in love. 

And I wanted to kill her.  

- “Chipmunk, I….”- Spencer stood in front of me outside the jet, as the rest of the team boarded.- “I don’t care what she said. I honestly don’t. Even if it was true, I don’t love Jennifer. I am not in love with her. Never was, never will.”- he placed his wounded hand carefully on my belly and the other one cupped my cheek. 

- “I know that…”- I whispered and looked down at my feet because it was a lie. I had always feared my husband’s feelings for JJ. Ever since we were just friends. Why? I don’t know! It was irrational. Just plain fear and insecurities. 

- “The only thing that matters is that I love you.”- Spencer added under his breath, and caressed my belly.  

- “I…”

I wanted to tell him I knew it, but to be honest, I just wasn’t sure. The fear of JJ trying to steal Spencer from me had been real for too long inside my head. Now I just had the confirmation. And though I knew my husband loved me, did he just love me ‘cos JJ wasn’t available? He had a crush on her for so long before we met… and there has always been a fear inside me, an irrational, silly, mind-consuming fear that made me believe JJ’s confession could change everything. 

- “I know it doesn’t mean anything to you, but I don’t feel comfortable around her anymore.”- I whispered and bit my lips ‘cos I really couldn’t handle the emotions I felt at the moment. 

- “Chipmunk…”

- “I feel betrayed and lied to, and now I don’t know how I’m gonna look at her in the face. I don’t wanna be around her anymore. I don’t wanna work at the BAU anymore. And I swear I don’t wanna make it sound like I’m throwing a tantrum.” 

- “You are not, (Y/N). You are not.”- Spencer wrapped his arms around me.- “Let’s go home, please. We don’t have to talk about this anymore. Not now, not today. I just wanna be with our kids at our home.” 

And I wanted to keep myself calm, for Spencer, for our baby, even for the sake of the team. But as soon as I saw JJ heading to the jet, the anger surpassed my logic. 

Jennifer stared at me like a deer in front of a hunter with a firearm pointed straight at her heart. She knew it. I didn’t have to tell her, I could feel all of her guilt and embarrassment. But that wasn’t enough. No. She needed to know how badly she had fucked up.

- “(Y/N), listen…”- she started apologizing as I walked to her, Spencer following close every and each of my movements. 

- “What the fuck is your problem?”- I yelled at her face and pushed her once, forcing her to take a few steps back.- “You just tell my husband you are in love with him and you think I am not going to do anything?!”- I pushed her one more time and kept walking forward as she took a few more steps back. 

- “It’s not like that… I… I was trying to protect us.”- JJ argued, stuttering and looking embarrassed about her feelings, but never denying them. 

- “Oh! Thank you so much!”- I answered with the most sarcastic tone of voice possible.- “I didn’t get the memo when one of your friends confesses their undying love for your husband, you should thank them! Thank you for protecting us!!” 

- “It was the only thing I could come up with….”- she started explaining the unexplainable. 

- “You didn’t come up with anything, Jeniffer!”- I yelled as tears of anger threatened to fall from my eyes.- "If you had made up something you could have said you didn't love your husband anymore! Or is that one true?"

I made a pause and stared at JJ. Her eyes were watered up as she looked down at her shoes.

- "You could have said anything! But you confessed your love for Spencer, and you can't convince me you were lying!"

Spencer stood next to me and placed an arm around me, trying to keep me from jumping and breaking JJ’s face. Which was, in fact, my plan at that minute. It had been years of trying to convince myself I was being paranoid every time JJ stared at Spencer in a way I knew wasn't friendly. The longing, the calls, the text, the weird possessive attitude she had sometimes.

- “(Y/N), please… this is not good for the baby.”- my husband whispered, trying to calm me down. 

- “This is not good for anyone, Spencer!”- I regretted yelling at him, but I was too upset to control myself.- “She could have said anything! Anything else! Any other morbid secret! Bring up her sister’s death, her time in the CIA, shit! Maybe even how bad she felt about helping Hotch pretend Emily’s dead! But she decided to drop this bomb! What do you want me to say? How do you want me to act?”

I was in tears at that point, and the anger wasn’t subsiding. If anything, it was worse because having JJ there in front of me, crying as well, made me realize I was never going to forgive her. Our friendship was ruined after that day, and there was nothing anyone could do to fix it. 

- “I swear, (Y/N), I didn’t mean to hurt you. I… I didn’t know you were listening.”- she sobbed and covered her face with both hands. 

- “We all heard you, JJ! And you know what makes it worse? That I knew it! Deep inside, I knew this shit was real! You showed your true feelings for my husband so many times during the last couple of years, I had to constantly tell myself this shit was just in my head! But it wasn’t! You just confirmed it!”

My yells alerted the team, and soon Rossi and Emily were there to calm the situation.

- “(Y/N), you have to understand, I would never do…”- I cut JJ’s speech as she continued sobbing. I made an effort to put myself together as I stood in front of her and looked her in the eyes in anger.  

- “You would never do what? Try to steal my husband? Because that’s exactly what you just did!”

- “I would never do anything like that!”- JJ yelled in tears, looking incredibly offended by my words. Good. It’s what I was going for.

- “I don’t believe you, Jennifer. You lost my trust and won it back once. But not this time. Our friendship is over. If it depended on me, I would never have to see you again. Not me, not my family. And before you start whining that I’m trying to hurt you, no. I am not trying to hurt you, ‘cos if I wanted to do something like that, I would be on the phone with your poor husband right now, telling him the kind of wife he has. ”

JJ widened her eyes at my words, shocked and frozen in fear.

- “You wouldn't dare”- she whispered, scared.

- “Didn’t you just lose enough in a truth or dare game, Jennifer? Don’t push me.”- my voice was filled with more than anger and deception. There was hate in it. I loathed the woman in front of me, pretending she cared for the mess she had created. 

- “(Y/N), JJ, please. Stop.”- Emily commanded.- “We are all grown-ups here, we need to put this aside. We have to go back home, we have a wedding tomorrow. We are a team.” 

- “Are we still, Em? Really?”- I turned to my unit chief and whipped off my tears. Spencer held me and led me to the jet. Rossi followed us closely, in silence. I had to bite my lower lip to stop crying. I didn’t want to shed another tear for JJ ever again.  

- “Come on, chipmunk. Let’s go home.”- Spencer whispered and held me closer.  

It was the longest five-hour trip of my life. I couldn’t sleep. Neither could Spencer. He wrapped his arm around me the entire time and just held me close. JJ sat on the other side of the plane, on her own. I tried not to look at her ‘cos I didn’t trust myself after what had happened earlier. Only one thing could happen if I did: I was gonna break her face. 

And I was scared. Terrified to even think of what that confession was doing to Spencer. He said it didn’t mean anything to him, but I knew it was obviously killing him, the same way it was killing me. 

Spencer’s point of view 

JJ’s confession couldn’t have come at a worse time. Right after (Y/N)’s second trimester. Every time she has been pregnant, all of her self-doubt comes up after the fifth month. The bigger her belly gets, the more afraid she is. I can understand it, but I will never fully make sense of it. Many studies confirmed that pregnancy hormones can make women feel a mix of highs and lows, which can make them feel more vulnerable or anxious. It was clear that was my wife’s case. I couldn’t tell her that, though. I had commented on the subject back when she was pregnant with Raven, and it made her cry for so long that I regretted it immediately.

But now, things were serious. This was a whole new level of insecurity, and I didn’t want her to think I was even considering leaving her to be with JJ. I would never. 

That night on the plane, while we both pretended to sleep for the sake of the team, I held her close to me and kept her wrapped in my arms and away from JJ, just in case. I remembered a few years before in that very same jet, (Y/N) had faced Seaver after her first case. Each time she stood for what she thought was right, she did it regardless of the consequences of her actions. And consequences were all I could think of. 

For starters, how were we going to deal with Rossi’s wedding? We were invited, we couldn’t miss it. How were we going to stand there next to the rest of the team and celebrate?  

And most importantly, how were we going to deal with the following months? We had agreed to quit after (Y/N)’s maternity leave ended. But I knew JJ was going to get on her nerves, she wasn’t going to live at peace knowing how she felt, and most of all, knowing I had to work with her for twelve more weeks after the baby was born. 

My wife wasn’t going to agree to that. Not in a thousand years. 

We drove in silence all the way from Quantico to our house. I didn't know what to say that might give her peace of mind. Her mom, Sofia, was babysitting the kids that night at our place, so when we got there around three in the morning, everybody was asleep. 

We went straight to bed, I got under the covers and waited for her to get there. As soon as she reached my side, I wrapped my arms around her and held her close to me. 

- “Hey… can you share what’s happening inside your head?”- I whispered and kissed her temple. (Y/N) sighed and met my eyes with concern. 

- “I’m scared.”- her confession was nearly imperceptible, but I heard her underneath the covers.  

- “I told you, what JJ said doesn’t mean anything to me. I love you.”- I explained, trying to be as sweet and understanding as possible.  

- “But… now that you know how she feels…”- she mumbled, fighting the tears.

- “It doesn't change anything, chipmunk. She is my friend, you are the love of my life.” 

- “I don’t want you to regret being with me.”- I had to make a pause before answering those words because it hurt me to think what was happening in her head. 

- “Why would you say something like that?”- it was painful to even consider her thinking I could regret my life with her. My wife moved close to me on our bed and I caressed her cheeks with my thumbs and kept kissing her forehead every once in a while. 

- “I just think… maybe you would have picked her instead of me if you knew how she felt about you.” 

- “Never.”  I didn't hesitate to answer ‘cos I needed her to understand how sure I felt about her. - “I don’t think you understand how much I love you. I’ve loved you since day one. Since the first time I saw you, interviewing for the position with Hotch.” 

- “You were still crushed on JJ when we met.”- she argued and I shook my head. 

- “You don’t understand, chipmunk. I fell for you the first time I talked to you, and since then, you have become the only one for me. You have been the one woman I want to be with ever since we first met. You asked me how old I was and I was so shocked by your presence, Elle had to answer for me.” 

My wife scoffed at my answer, and I reached her lips with mine, trying to soothe her fears with sweet kisses. 

- “Ask anyone…”- I murmured.- “Everybody knows I was a goner after day one.” 

- “Your… mom showed me all the letters you sent her since November 7th, 2005.”- she confessed, embarrassed to tell me their secret.- “Don’t get mad at her. She just… before we got married, she wanted me to know and understand how long you’ve loved me. So she let me read them.” 

- “I’m not mad. I’m glad you did. Can you see how long I’ve loved you?”- I asked her and kissed her lips one more time. 

- “But did you love me ‘cos she wasn’t available? Or…”

- “Chipmunk, I love you ‘cos you are the only one for me. Whatever I thought I felt for JJ back then, was never more than a simple infatuation. The second I met you and started knowing you, you became the only woman for me. You have no competition, nowhere in time or space.” 

My wife hugged and sobbed softly as I held her and ran my fingers through her hair. We stayed like that for a few minutes, until her breathing was calmer and she had stopped crying.  

- “I’m sorry, Spencer.”- she murmured - “I don’t wanna be crazy jealous or anything…” 

- “It’s ok. This is the kind of thing we have to talk about tonight. I know what Jennifer said was out of place, but I don’t want to make it our entire life from now on. I need to close that chapter.” 

- “I need to get out of the BAU.”- my wife replied and sighed.- “Should we set a date for our departure?”

- “If that makes you feel better, I’m in. Let’s set a date.”

- “I don’t think anything will give me any peace of mind right now.” 

- “Twelve weeks after our baby is born, we leave.”- I told her and she sighed one more time. 

- “Twelve weeks. Ok. I can do that.”- she paused and after a few seconds, she simply asked.- “When do we tell Prentiss?” 

- “Let’s give her a month's notice.”- I settled and kissed the top of her head one more time.- “And now, get some sleep, ok? It was a shitty day and you need to rest. The baby needs to rest.” 

- “Thank you, honey. For always taking care of me.”- her words were muffled ‘cos she was hiding on my chest and I just caressed her hair and back slowly, trying to give her all the comfort she needed.  

- “I love you, (Y/N). I am yours, my heart, my soul. Everything I am, it’s yours.”- I murmured and kissed the top of her head one more time.- “Never doubt that.” 

(Y/N)’s point of view 

Rossi’s wedding wasn’t a day at the beach, that I can assure you. Frank took care of the kids that day, so me and Spencer could have some time alone. With Mikey dealing with parenthood and Lu pregnant for the first time, we couldn’t really bother them much. Frank was the best godfather. He was always available to play and take care of our babies. He and Tarah didn’t have kids but still loved Raven and Vinny very much. And they love spending time together. 

I distinctly remember being in our room staring at my reflection in the mirror after I was done getting ready for David’s wedding, thinking I looked like a whale. Spencer walked over with Vincent and stared at me with pure love in his eyes. 

- “Doesn't mommy look gorgeous?”- he asked our baby son and he nodded. I couldn’t blame my husband for trying to make me feel pretty. He knew exactly what was going through my mind that second. 

- “Mommy is pretty”- Vinny replied as I turned to him and kissed his chubby cheeks.

- “You are more pretty! Are you ready to spend time with Uncle Frank and Auntie Tarah?” 

- “Yes! Uncle Funny said he was taking us to the aquarium today!”- Vinny replied, absolutely static with the plan, and Raven showed up holding her backpack. 

- “I’m ready! Let’s go!”- she commanded and grabbed my hand.- “Uncle Frank said if we got there early, we could have a picnic afterward! Come on!”- and just like that, Raven started crawling us downstairs. 

Being with the kids that morning cheered me up and took me back to reality. What really matters and who we were doing everything for: our family. 

- “Ok Nugget”- Frank stood next to our car as Spencer helped Tara with Vinny and Raven kept telling her about her week at school.- “Enjoy the party, don’t drink too much.-”- he joked touching my prominent belly and I just chuckled.

- “Sure thing, Paco. I’ll be the designated driver, so don’t worry.”- I replied and I know the smile didn’t reach my eyes ‘cos he noticed. Frank always noticed those things. 

- “Oh oh, what happened?” 

- “Don’t wanna talk about it now. I gotta look happy for Rossi”

- “Problems with Spencer? Do I have to hurt him?”- I stared at Frank, not moving a facial muscle until he chuckled.- “Fine, so Mr. FBI SSA can break my arm now, but he couldn’t do that when I first met him.”   

- “He is not the problem. He has been amazing” 

- “Then what?”- Frank crossed his arms on his chest as he stared at me, waiting for an answer. And I knew he wasn't going to stop asking until he got one.

- “Mom! Uncle Frank has to go!”- Raven appeared and held his hand, pushing him away from me.- “You can talk with your friend later!”

- “I’ll bring some wine when I drop the kids tonight.-” he decided and started walking with my daughter.

- “I can’t drink, Paco!”- I replied and he smiled evilly. 

- “It’s not for you, Nugget! I'll drink and you'll tell me the whole story.” 

- “So, how are we doing this?”- I asked Spencer as we walked into the venue. Rossi’s wedding was at a beautiful and cozy hotel, and it was only with close friends and family. Not a lot of places to hide. 

- “We have fun with the team, you try not to kill JJ. We go home early and never tell Frank, so we can have some time alone.” 

- “Loving the last part of that plan.”- I felt Spencer’s hand in mine as we took a look around. Matt and his wife were with JJ and Will, so we both moved the opposite way. Garcia and Tara were at the bar, so that's where we headed right away. 

- “Ok, I have just made this up. I call it the Rossi.”- Penelope announced and put a glass on the bar. I turned around as Pen continued talking about her drink, feeling someone’s eyes on me, and JJ quickly turned and looked away as I caught her staring at my husband. Spencer rested his hand on the small of my back and guided my focus back to Garcia. 

- “Will it get me drunk?”- Tara’s question made me chuckle right away.  

- “Totally.”- Garcia replied without hesitations. 

- “Then I will take a double.”- Lewis demanded and turned to her, surprised. 

- “Trying to get drunk before lunch? Bold move.”

- “Someone very wise once said: make every second count. And when there’s an open bar, trust me (Y/N), I always make every second last.”- her answer made me smile wider. 

- “Do you have any mocktails here, Pen?”- I asked and looked at my friend mixing nonalcoholic drinks behind the counter.

- “I have the perfect mix just for you, filled with vitamins for that baby Reid you are growing. Which reminds me, Reid”- she looked at my husband and raised an eyebrow. “ I came to this wedding by myself, but I will not be dancing by myself. Do you understand me, Dr. Reid?” 

- “Yes.”- Spencer replied solemnly and I sipped my glass. I looked at JJ and she was looking over from a distance, again. That was gonna be a long day to deal sober. 

The ceremony was perfect, just what Rossi and Krystal had imagined. But I was awkward the whole time, and I knew Spencer felt the same. He kept his arm or hand on me the entire time. It didn’t get better when it was time for speeches and Emily started talking. 

- “When Dave got engaged, he pulled out all the stops. Some of you might not know this, but he proposed to Krystall in our elevator at the FBI, which was perfect. If she said no, he could just go back to work and she had a built-in escape. But she said yes, and here we are.”

The entire room was listening closely to every word my friend said. Spencer, sitting next to me, held my hand upon the table. 

- “Penelope says that this was fate, that their marriage was in the stars. Dave and Krystall are twin flames, two souls that are always meant to be together. Sometimes it takes time, sometimes it takes a parallel universe or something, but the thing about twin flames is that nothing can keep them apart.”

Spencer moved my hand closer to him and kissed it sweetly. 

- “I would love you in every universe.”- he whispered and I knew I blushed because I felt my cheeks burning. My heart skipped a beat at those words ‘cos I knew he meant them and for once I didn’t care if JJ saw us. Spencer loved me as much as I loved him. 

- “They are a magic unto themselves. And together, they light the way for all of us. To David and Krystall.”- Emily finished her speech and we all raised our glasses. 

The plan was to stay a little longer after lunch and then go home, but Penelope, Matt, and Luke were doing such a great job keeping everybody dancing, we were having a great time. And we deserved that. To enjoy our time with our friends. It felt special considering we now had a date to leave. No more thinking about it. It was a fact. 

Spencer was getting me water and I was resting for a while when I saw JJ approaching him. My stomach dropped when I saw her skinny figure in a tight red dress standing next to my husband. He was gorgeous in that tux. She said a few words, Spencer shook his head, grabbed two bottles of water, smiled and walked away. I stared at the entire scene from my seat, and JJ looked at Spencer walking across the room back to me. 

- “What was that?”

- “She was thanking me for saving her life.”- he replied and sat by my side.

- “And?”

- “And then she started rambling about when I got the ankle holster and how she just said what she said to get that guy’s attention.”- my husband held my hand as he spoke, and stared at my eyes, trying to reassure me he was telling the truth.  

- “Sure…”

- “I told her I didn’t care. That whatever happened, it was in the past. That nothing was gonna change ‘cos things were the way they were supposed to be. And then I left.”

I didn’t reply, I just nodded and stared at him as she finished his explanation. I didn’t want to be the kind of wife who keeps demanding her husband to tell her everything he talked about with other women, but JJ was, and probably will ever be, a sensitive subject between us.  

- “Are you ok?”- I whispered and he nodded, kissing my hand.

- “Are you ok?”- he asked me and I smiled at him, nodding as well.- “Good, ‘cos now we are going home to enjoy the house alone for a while.”

- "That actually sounds like a date."- I replied as he kept holding my hand.

- "Then how about a nice bath for the two of us and some hot chocolate?"

- "Let's get the car."   

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[starlit-writer]

the kindest devil, pt. 1 - simon riley x gn!reader

This is your dead dove: do not eat warning. This first part deals with talks of abuse, murder, familial violence, alcoholism, fauxcest, and implied sexual abuse from an authority figure. it is also worth noting that both Simon and reader are aged down (18 year olds in their last year of high school) please do not read if this will be harmful to your mental health. that is more important to me than anything else.

listen, the brain worms took over. it was supposed to be a quick little drabble but the brainworms demanded a sacrifice and it revolved into this (which isn’t even done). i have so much more planned, i just needed SOME part of this posted before i lost all motivation. pls don’t be afraid to tell me if this sucks. thanks for reading!

word count: 2,373

You and Simon were both living with a foster parent, Phil. At first, Phil seemed like the perfect fit for the two most difficult fosters. You both were victims of horrendous circumstances. Simon, a father who murder his younger brother and mother in front of him. You, cursed to be the sole survivor of your own father’s drunken abuse. Phil was strict, but with a gentle hand, able to guide and shape you and Simon into much more upstanding figures of society. In fact, since coming into Phil’s care, you and Simon had seemingly flourished. Both of you had fantastic grades in school, and you were excelling as a singer, a dream you had had since before you even knew what it meant, while Simon had become a top rugby star. On the surface, everything seemed fantastic. Every time the social worker came to check on you and Simon, she always praised Phil when she thought she was out of your earshot, telling him how fantastic he was at bringing you and Simon back to ‘respectable standards of human beings’.

If only she knew.

Simon’s propensity for rugby obscured the damage inflicted by Phil, and you covered your own bruises, burns, scrapes, and whatever other punishment Phil’s sadistic brain could come up with with the baggiest clothes you could find, typically Simon’s rugby sweatshirts. This, in and of itself, has sparked an undercurrent of rumors throughout your peers. Occasionally, you would hear the whispers through the halls as you walked, but Simon, never far behind you, would quiet the muttered conversation of the ‘siblings who fuck each other’ with a quick glare as his hand settled on the small of your back. Whoever was gossiping would quickly find some other topic to occupy their mouth, or they would high tail it in the other direction.

If only they knew.

You and Simon were not actually related. Had never even met before you were both placed in this home three years ago. However, that didn’t stop you from feeling slightly sick as you tiptoed out of the shed, the attic, the wine cellar, the gardens, or wherever you had managed to find momentary reprieve in the dizzying dichotomy of the punishing snap of Simon’s hips against the gentle way he embraced you. No, you weren’t related. But, the little voice still whispered in your ear that it was wrong to do the things you had done together.

Yet, you always found each other right back where you belonged - in the other’s arms. Tonight, however, tonight was different. Phil was out, a rare occasion. He had muttered something about a bar and his mates in passing this morning before pressing a too-sloppy kiss into your lips as you and Simon left for school this morning. Simon had been pissed, all but vibrating with rage as he drove the two of you to school. His hands clenched around the steering wheel in a white-knuckled death grip, his mouth moving slightly as he glared at the asphalt ahead of him, words of vengeance spilling from his lips silently. You knew better than to engage with him as he drove, your own trauma forcing you to freeze. Even though you knew it was Simon, the one man you could guarantee would never harm you, it was still an angry man driving a car, and prior experience, no matter how inapplicable in this specific situation, dictated that the best thing for you to do was freeze, stay silent, unseen.

When Simon parked, he jumped out of the car and ran around to the passengers side, opening the door for you silently, his face still pulled into that dark glare. You slowly got out, avoiding eye contact with him as you hiked your backpack up your shoulder, but no matter how scared you were, you didn’t dare move until you felt Simon’s hand settle onto the small of your back like a security blanket. He led you into the school, where everyone gave you a wide berth, and as soon as you stepped into your first hour class, he had disappeared. You didn’t see him again for the rest of the day, which felt odd. But, you tried to push it from your mind, figuring that he just needed to cool off. Sometimes, when Phil would get really bad, Simon would make sure you were somewhere safe, and then disappear to calm down before he did something that would make his worst fear come true: becoming his own father.

The day passed uneventfully, if not a little blurred. You couldn’t focus on your lessons, your mind consistently wandering to whether or not Simon was okay. After school, you had choir rehearsal, one of the few bright spots in your life. Normally, Simon would’ve waited for you, sitting in the hallway to listen to his little songbird, as he always called you, but he was nowhere to be found. So, one of your friends took you back to Phil’s house, and you silently sighed out a deep breath of relief when you saw Simon’s beat-up black pickup truck in the yard. At least he was safe. You quickly got out of your friend’s sedan, waving bye and promising them that you would go get coffee with them tomorrow, and walked carefully up to the house. You were on high alert, watching out for any sign that Phil was still around, but his car was nowhere to be seen. Thanking any and all of the gods above, you slid your house key into the lock of the front door.

When your feet crossed the threshold of the house, Simon was there, picking you up bridal style, as if you weighed nothing. Without saying a word to the surprised squeak and startled “Simon!” you had let out, he takes the stairs up two at a time, not stopping until he had deposited you into his bed. You bounced slightly, lifting yourself up slightly by leaning back on your elbows to hold Simon’s warm brown gaze, confusion furrowing your brow even as want pooled in your lower stomach.

Seeing the look on your face, his gaze softened slightly, but he quickly looked away. One of his hands came to rest on your ankle as his other hand started to untie the laces of your trainers. He was entirely focused on your shoes, tugging them off with almost reverence. Your socks followed soon after. Then, his hands started to slowly started to trail up your legs, his gaze zeroed in on his hands. That’s when you noticed that his hands were shaking. His hands were shaking.

“Simon,” you tried to get his attention. When his only response was his hands gripping into the meaty flesh of your thighs, a sharp intake of breath punches past your lips. Normally, his touch would never scare you, in fact, you welcomed it like a balm over your tattered soul. But, his behavior from this morning, the shaking of his hands, and the silence were driving you insane with fear. “Simon, c’mon, talk to me. You’re… you’re scarin’ me.”

As soon as you said that he was scaring you, his head snapped up, his brown eyes wide with concern and guilt. He pulled his hands away from your thighs, and you felt an instant pang of abandonment as the contact was broken. You sat up fully on Simon’s bed, concern clouding your expression as you leaned ever so slightly towards him, desperate to close the distance between the two of you. Simon did not share your sentiment, as he took a step back from you, running his hand through his hair frustratedly as a sound that can only be described as a frustrated growl reverberated from between his plush lips.

“I hate him,” Simon muttered, not looking at you.

“I know,” you replied simply. You were still trying to catch his gaze, trying to decode his emotions, even as he stubbornly kept his eyes away from you.

Simon shook his head, his mouth pinching together for a brief moment before his gaze met yours. There was something about you. No matter how much anger, or hatred, or stress seared through Simon’s veins, just one look at you was able to melt it all away. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, closing the distance between you. His hands fell to your hips, his thumbs digging ever so slightly into the plush flesh. “I just… I could kill him. I know I could, but…”

“You’re afraid of becoming your father,” you finished, your eyes searching his.

His eyes fell shut, his plush lips pressed into a thin line as he nodded slightly. He looked so defeated, as if he was doomed by his very existence to become a carbon copy of his father. Your hands fell to where Simon’s were digging into the soft curve of your hip, and you squeezed his hands tightly. “Listen to me, Simon. You could never be your father. No matter what. You are good. The best man I’ve ever met, that’s for damn sure.”

Simon’s eyes darkened as your hands squeezed his, and when you say that he’s ‘the best man you’ve ever met’, something in him snapped. His right hand left your hip, immediately coming up to your chin to draw your face impossibly closer to his. “Most the men you know are devils, darling. Just because I’m the kindest of ‘em all, don’t mean I ain’t a devil,” he rebuked, his words low and full of a dark promise. His calloused thumb brushed over your soft lower lip, pulling it open slightly. “If I weren’t a devil, I wouldn’t let myself touch you like this, hmm, love?”

His words made your head spin, your small hand coming up to grasp his wrist, fingers unable to enclose it entirely. Simon glances down at your feeble attempt to grab onto him and smirks, his hazelnut eyes glinting darkly with the promise of making sure you never truly forget how much of a devil he could be. His eyes met yours, his pupils so obscenely blown that the warm brown of his iris was completely swallowed by inky blackness as he slowly pressed his large thumb between your lips, the rough digit scraping against your tongue, forcing it down further into your mouth. You gazed up at him, your eyes shining with submission, and if anyone was looking close enough, something that could be mistaken for love. Maybe he was a devil, but if he was, he was yours.

“Such a pretty angel for me, hmm?” Simon rasped out, his voice rough and low. “C’mon baby, you know what to do. Show me what that perfect fuckin’ mouth can do, huh?”

Your eyes rolled back a little at his words, the way they washed over you like a warm blanket. The heat that had been building in your gut since Simon had manhandled you into his bed suddenly flared to life as you hollowed your cheeks out around his thumb and sucked. A long, resounding groan of pleasure tumbling from Simon’s plush, chapped lips was your reward as his fingers brushed against your cheek lovingly. “‘Atta girl,” he breathed out, stroking against your tongue for a moment before he pulled his appendage out with a wet pop. A thin line of your saliva connected his thumb to your lower lip. You stared at it for a moment before your gaze flicked back up to his, a teasing smirk settling onto your mouth as you bit down on your lower lip, something that had always drove Simon crazy.

He groaned in slight annoyance, but the sound is undeniably pleasure-filled. His head fell back for a moment, almost as if he was fighting against himself. But, before you could beg, let alone blink, he was already surging forward, his massive frame pressing you back down to his bed as his hot, hungry mouth found yours. It’s all tongue and teeth and desperation as he licked into you, the sound of your moans mingling in the air together as his hands trailed up your sides underneath his rugby sweatshirt. “You in my fuckin’ sweater, eh?” he teased against your lips as his thumb and forefinger captured your nipple between them, rolling the sensitive nub in a way that made you see stars.

“Simon-“ you gasped out in response as your back arched off of the bed, closing the little distance that was between you and him. He chuckled darkly as his head tipped into the junction between your shoulder and neck, his fingers still providing delicious torture to your nipple. It felt like every fiber of your being was set aflame as he presses open-mouthed kisses to your throat.

“Such a wonderful fuckin’ body, love. Perfect. Perfect for me. My beautiful angel,” Simon muttered against your skin before he bit down into it, eliciting a sharp noise of pleasure to burst past your lips. His broad, warm tongue soothed over the mark that he left slowly, forcing a whine out from between your lips. He smirked against the thin, delicate skin of your throat as he pressed a few more lazy kisses into you, his hands finally moving to your other nipple, tugging at the sensitive rosy bud just enough to make a long, wanton moan erupt from your throat. “That’s it, baby. Lemme hear you,” he encouraged, his lips slowly trailing down your neck as his hands push his rugby sweatshirt up further, completely exposing your chest to the cold air of the house.

His mouth clamped around the nipple that he had just tugged, sucking at a languid pace that had you spasming beneath him, torn between wanting more and pushing him away. He chuckled against the plush softness of your chest, one of his large hands going to your hip to pin you against the bed as his knee came between your legs to press up into your core, giving you the delicious friction he knew you needed.

You were getting lost in each other, bodies moving together in sinful synchrony, a mess of lips, teeth, and spit. You got so lost in each other that you didn’t even hear the click of the gun being cocked. In fact, you didn’t hear anything after the bullet ricocheted around the room.

[cheschesterpossum]

Been in a bad mood lately.

Im gonna take a small break off to recharge, about a week or two before i get back to posting.

Thank you.

[dismas-n-dismay]

Suki - Chimera Falin amv

I present before you: The Chimera Falin Edit.

[zecoritheweirdone]

been thinking 'bout mystery skulls animated recently!!! so, i decided to try my hand at drawing a mr. lewis pepper for the first time!

[david-boreanus]

😬🙊

[unknownmads]

CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT INMATE TOJI AND CUTE LITTLE Y/N WHOS SO NAIVE TO BIG BAD TOJI

CW: Slight smut (mentions of his pp🤭)

☆☆☆

thinking about Prison toji who you met when your college has you do a little project in your criminal psychology class. The project was make a penpal get to know them ask why they are in prision, what their lives before was like, do they regret what they did etc. basic questions of course all you had to do was get the most information out of the penpal about their personal lives as you could.

Prison Toji who only signed up for the program because it was part of his latest court order saying he ‘needed more understanding’ so a penpal would give him a friend while they stay safe😭 he ofc hated the idea and thought it was the dumbest shit ever. until he got his first letter, from you (duh).

Prison toji who got mail for the first time and it was a little white envelope with a cute little sticker sealing it. He deadpanned *is my penpal an idiot these letters are for a prison not a daycare* he silently judges examining every detail as he opened the letter. i read the letter taking in every little personal detail you shared with him, your cute little name, how you loved your cat, how you’re new to the city only just moving for school, of course the boring questions for him as well. But at the very end of the letter he noticed an extra little note.

Ps. i left a few photos of myself along with some of my cat! i think it’s only fair since i got to see your photo on the website

Prison toji who grabs the envelope he previously had thrown to the side and pulls out 3 polaroids. One of you and probably your cat you’re dragging it into the photo with a big grin on your face. the second is a photo of your face a soft smile on your lips meant for whoever took the photo but Toji couldn’t help but wonder if that little smile was for him. Until he pulls out the third photo it’s a full view of you, you’re out in the city dressed all out, and Toji couldn’t help but know you chose that photo just for him.

Prison Toji who can’t wait to finally get some alone time so he can truly appreciate your pretty photos. And immediately goes to write you back answering all your cute little questions. Telling you where he lived before, how he ended up there, telling you what he did for work before (Surprise he sold drugs😍), telling you what he does to occupy his time here (he works out he just wanted an excuse to tell you how strong he is), and he asks you some questions.

Prison Toji who has been relentlessly flirting with since you started writing to him, asking if you had a boyfriend, how your school was going, why you moved to the city, how a cute lil thing like you is still single. You had been writing each other for a few weeks now which is a lot less than you think when you know how long mail takes. But your letters to each other are long. answering every little thing each other asks, learning about one another more and more. You had really connected so you finally ask him the big question he read the words as clear as day.

~Do you think i could come pay you a visit? ~

Prison Toji who had to immediately write back answering the most important question first.

~ And doll, you can come visit me anytime id love to finally meet you and see your pretty face in person~

he wanted to be nonchalant.

Prison Toji who was sitting in bed looking at your photos when he was called

“Zenin, you’ve got a visitor. away from the door.”

Prison Toji silently followed standing on the other side of the cell while the guard came in to handcuff him and bring him to the visiting area. Once he was in the room his cuffs connecting him to the table he waited. until he heard the door open again. He felt his cock twitch in his pants as he saw the guard guide you in. You were wide eyed taking in the new environment until they landed on him.

Prison Toji was large, you knew he was tall and muscular thanks to his letters and photo but nothing could have prepared you for the real deal. Eyes widening even more when you fully take him in. seated At the grey metal table his hands on the table as the guard had told him to. his hair poking at his eyes which were staring drinking you in. his lip in a smirk helping you notice the scar on it which you couldn’t really see from the grainy prison photos. His shirt stretched against his muscles showing off a few tattoos hidden along his skin. the view making you squeeze your thighs together to release some of the pressure building.

Prison Toji who took in as much of you as he could as he watched you shuffle into your seat across from him, enjoying how you squirmed slightly within his gaze, his smirk growing into an almost full smile.

“hey doll it’s good to finally meet you.”

[jaewritesfic]

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Part 5

Masterpost

[girlygguk]

CRAZY | JJK (Part 2)

summary you know it sounds twisted. that most people would see hyungwon as the perfect boyfriend. healthy, balanced, all the things that relationships should be. that’s when you realized... you weren't like most people. but that's okay. because neither is jungkook.

pairing ceo!jk x employee!(f)reader

rating 18+ minors dni; smut, fluff, angst

genre coworkers to lovers au, established relationship

word count 13.2k

chapter content [read part one for full character & story warnings pls.] jk & oc first encounter, jungkook lowkey goes a bit yandere in one two of the scenes 😭, jk punches another guy, love at first fuck lets b real, mention of oc's superior abusing their power (not jk), hyungwon appearance 🙄, heejin appearance 🙄, hobi appearance 🎉, bff jiminie appearance 🎉, time skips, jealous mcs, heated argument, jk lies but like... for the greater good? god idk

warnings dom jk, sub oc, pre established traffic light sw system and degradation consent, doggy, dirty talk, protected p in v sex, praise kink, um slight exhibition kink, rough sex, squirting...(on their first fucking encounter yeeeppp help me god)

a/n this is only 75% edited bc i honestly wasn't going to post it for a whilee as i'm working on some other things atm but i felt bad just watching her sit in my drafts all sad n semi finished 😢 alsoo if a bit of the smut dialogue looks a lil familiar... cough salsa.. its bc i was gonna completelyy change up the sexy scene 🥺 and so i used the smut as inspo for the salsa drabble so it didnt go to waste... bye im such a clown. okay thank u, enjoy, and pls lemme know what u think <3 mwah

crazy pt 1 | masterlist | join my taglist | banner credit

801 DAYS AGO

Your twelve-month contract as a temp Administrative Assistant at Jeon Corp was creeping to an end, and it was safe to say that you were fucking pissed.

You had put everything into this place—countless overtime shifts, moved into an overpriced house in the city near the firm so you were never late. You eat, sleep and breathe this fucking company. And what did you get for it? An almost certain rejection, apparently.

You were more than sure they'd offer you a permanent position. Your stats spoke for themselves. They were flawless. You’d single-handedly cleaned up the absolute fucking disaster left behind by the previous administrative assistant who bailed after Jeon Jun-seo’s passing—and that was not light work.

And by "bailed," you meant that they were part of the bloodbath that ensued when Jungkook took over and wiped out almost half the staff for incompetence.

The staff who remained still grumbled about it—loyalists, maybe, or just people too comfortable with the way things used to be. They hated him for it. He was ruthless, sure, but effective. Jeon Corp wasn't just successful; it was dominating. They went from merely hitting targets to blowing right past them. And that shift started with him.

Jungkook was good. Really fucking good.

He was young, driven, passionate, and not to mention—a sight for sore eyes. Even as someone who didn't like to openly praise men, you couldn't help but be impressed.

Still, you knew your fate wasn't in his hands directly. He wasn't going to be the one deciding whether your temp position would become permanent. He was the CEO—too high up to care about such things. And besides, you'd never even spoken to the guy. You spent most of your time on the twelfth floor, and he was always buried in work on the nineteenth.

Except for that one time.

Maybe three months ago? You had shared an elevator with him when you both arrived at work around the same time. For eleven floors, you stood silently beside him. Well, you were silent. He was on the phone, speaking in that low, gravelly tone that had a way of crawling under your skin. Being so close, you could hear the slight slip of a Busan accent when he spoke. He wasn't rude, just... intense.

Even while curses slipped from his lips to whoever was on the other end of the line, you couldn’t help but wonder if that was just his usual tone—whether he was speaking to a business partner, an enemy, a lover. Either way, you didn't think it was negative. It was just him.

You knew bits and pieces about the guy from what Jimin had shared—him being Jungkook’s assistant and all—but nothing too personal. Not that you needed to know. Though, admittedly, he had piqued your interest.

A month prior to that elevator ride, you’d caught a glimpse of something that had you squirming in your seat. From your office, you had glanced over to see him leading a meeting on your floor. His suit jacket had been tossed over the back of his chair, revealing the dirtiest, prettiest fucking sleeve you’d ever laid eyes on. His big, tattooed bicep flexed with each movement as he pointed at the projector screen.

The sight had you groaning, pushing your unfinished lunch aside and retreating to the bathroom.

You’d tried calling your boyfriend, hoping to pull him into some filthy phone sex, but he was too nervous to go through with it. In the end, you hung up frustrated, finishing yourself off in the stall, biting your lip to keep from moaning too loudly.

The elevator ride felt quicker than usual. You kept your eyes fixed on the LED screen, watching the numbers tick up, though you were more focused on the way his cologne filled the space, light but somehow intoxicating. By the time the doors slid open on your floor, his call had ended. You adjusted your bag, turning to him with a polite bow.

"Have a good day, seonsaengnim," you'd said, your voice soft as you smiled.

He didn’t say anything back, just looked at you for a second, his dark eyes sweeping over your face. His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly as he gave you a subtle nod, and you walked off, feeling his gaze linger as you left.

And that was it.

You didn't see him again. Not in the lobby, not passing by in meetings, not even when your car and his were the last ones left in the parking lot after late shifts. It wasn't unusual; he was literally the CEO, always busy, always somewhere else. He didn't have time to notice you.

But you couldn’t help but think about it more than you’d like to admit.

If you'd known that you'd never cross paths with him again, never ride the same elevator, never exchange more than those few words before your temp contract ended—would you have done something different? Said something more?

Maybe you would've clicked a higher floor.

But here you were. No offer. No permanence. Just three job offers from other firms sitting in your inbox, waiting for your reply. Of course, you had a backup plan—you weren't that naive. But something about it stung anyway. You'd take one of those offers at the end of the week, move on, and maybe one day, you'd forget about Jeon Corp entirely.

Sigh.

You were really going to miss Jiminie, though.

“So... how's your shift going?”

You rolled your eyes, a soft laugh escaping as you twisted the cap off your water bottle, taking a sip before tearing the lid off your salad. Your phone sat on your desk, Hyungwon's voice crackling through the speaker.

"It's going good, Hyungwon," you replied, voice tinged with sarcasm. "Same as every day."

A sad chuckle echoed through the receiver. "Oh, yeah? Well, we just got new printers at the firm, you know, the Lexmark MX8s? What about y—"

The forkful of salad that was halfway to your mouth dropped back into the bowl. "Hyungwon," you interrupted, incredulity dripping from your tone. "Did you really call me to talk about printers?"

"Well, I—no, I just—"

You sighed, reaching for your water again and setting your untouched lunch down. "Hyungwon, I hope you're okay, I really do. And I'm happy for you and your fancy printers," yours were two seasons ahead, "but this isn't helping. You're not going to feel better if—"

"I just miss you, Y/N," his voice cracked, and instantly, your appetite evaporated. You let out another deep sigh, rubbing your temples, as Hyungwon's next words came out shaky. "And I just want to know what I did wrong. We were doing so well. W-what did I do?"

"Hyungwon…" You picked up the phone, taking it off speaker as you leaned back in your chair, eyes focused on the ceiling. "You didn't do anything. You're a great guy, okay?"

"Yeah," he scoffed, his voice bitter and teary. "Girls don't break up with 'great guys' after an amazing year together out of the blue, Y/N."

Was it out of the blue? Had it been amazing?

"We've been over this," you sighed, adjusting the phone in your hand. "A hundred times in the last month. It's not about what you did. We just—"

"Weren't right for each other," he finished, his voice robotic, like he was reciting a script he'd memorized against his will. A sniffle followed as you heard him reach for tissues. "Just… wanted you to know I miss you. And… could I come by next week? Pick up my clothes?"

You took a long drink from your water bottle, feeling a headache forming. "I’ll leave it with reception. You can pick it up from the office—"

"No," he cut in, his voice tight with desperation. "Please, from your place. I just… I need to see you one more time."

You exhaled deeply, eyes unfocused as you stared out your floor-to-ceiling window. It had been a month since you ended things with Park Hyungwon—a month since you stuffed his clothes into a box and offered to drop them off. A month of excuses, a month of him putting it off, dragging out these unbearable phone calls, asking to see you in person, to talk.

You knew why he wanted to make the exchange in person. You weren't stupid. But lately, something about his calls had been giving you a bad feeling—a taste in your mouth that lingered long after you hung up. Hyungwon wasn't dangerous. He wouldn't hurt a fly. But he was... off. These calls always followed a pattern.

First, 1:15pm, right when you started your break, your phone would buzz. You'd glance down, see an incoming call from P.H, and immediately regret ever sharing your lunch schedule with him.

Then, he'd be kind. Sweet. Boring. Asking about your shift, your day, until something—something trivial—would break his composure. He'd start to crack, voice shaking, or worse, he'd burst into tears over something like… printers.

By the end of the call, there was always that weird shift. Not angry, not sad… something in between. A mix of emotions that left you unsettled, and you couldn't quite put your finger on why. You could feel the resentment beneath it all, though—like he definitely blamed you for the breakup, no matter how many times he asked what he could've done to keep you.

That was fine. You were used to people resenting you. You were top of your major, gorgeous, and a bit of a bitch. But hearing that tone in Hyungwon's voice? A human puppy dog you'd spent a year of your life with? It made your skin crawl in a way you couldn't shake.

And now, here he was, asking to see you again. For what? Closure? An emotional showdown? You didn't care. You just knew you had to end this, fast. Another call filled with sniffles and pleas, eating away at what little break time you had? You'd throw yourself out that fucking floor-to-ceiling window before you let that happen again.

"Fine," you sighed, glancing at your watch as you switched the phone to your other ear. "You can come over next week. I'll check my schedule."

"Really?" His voice immediately brightened, and you rolled your eyes. "Shivers! That sounds great! Just text me when—"

You swallowed the bile rising in your throat. Shivers? SHIVERS?

"Break's over, Hyungwon," you interrupted, forcing a smile into your voice. "Talk to you later, okay?"

"Yeah. Thank you, Y/N. I'll call you tomorrow."

The line went dead, and your fist clenched around the phone.

"God," you muttered to yourself, tossing it onto your desk with an exasperated sigh, "I'm changing my fucking break time."

"Should I come back later?"

You yelped at the sudden voice, spinning around in your chair to see your best friend standing in your office doorway, his signature Cheshire grin firmly in place.

"Jiminie!" you beamed, frustration melting away as you rushed over to pull him into a hug. "No, it's okay. It was just—"

"Hyungwon," Jimin finished for you with a knowing, apologetic nod. "You know, you could always just… not answer when he calls?"

You rolled your eyes, brushing a piece of blonde fringe from his face. "And have his suicide on my conscience? No thanks."

"He's a grown man. He can make his own decisions," Jimin shrugged, laughing when you widened your eyes in faux shock.

You shuffled back to your desk, stabbing a cherry tomato from your salad. "Aren't you supposed to be telling me to run back into his arms and admit I was wrong? Some sort of cousin code or something?" you quirked a brow teasingly, humming around the mouthful.

He laughed softly, adjusting the files in his hand. "I'd never tell you to go back to something you were clearly miserable in, Y/N. Even if he is my cousin."

You swallowed another bite, giving him an appreciative smile before finishing the rest of your water bottle. "That is why I love you, Park." You threw the rest of your papers into a folder and linked your arm with his. "And why I'm going to miss you so much." You pouted playfully.

Jimin rolled his eyes, guiding you out of your office. The usual hustle and bustle of level twelve filled the air as he snorted, "Don't say that. You're not going anywhere, Y/N."

"Mm, I beg to differ." You shot back, bitterness lacing your voice. "I haven't heard a word about permanency, and my contract ends in four days." With a dramatic sigh, you added, "Guess you'll just have to visit me at KimCo on your lunch breaks instead."

"First of all," Jimin smirked, "I wouldn't drive across town on my lunch break to visit anyone, even you." You squinted at him as he teased, "And second, yeah, it's shitty that you haven't heard anything about the promotion—"

"And unprofessional," you interjected, rolling your eyes. "And discourteous, and obnoxious, and plain fucking rude—"

He chuckled, cutting you off with a light shrug. "Yes, all of the above," he agreed as you both reached the elevators. Unlinking his arm from yours, he pressed the button to go up. "But… have you accepted the offer at KimCo yet?"

You frowned, glancing at the lit-up arrow pointing up. "No, not yet. I was going to tonight…" You trailed off, turning to him in confusion. "Jiminie, why are we going up? Our meeting's on level seven."

Jimin glanced down at the file in his hand before his mouth opened to respond, but the elevator dinged, catching your attention.

The doors slid open, and you were immediately hit with the faint scent of tobacco and Bvlgari. Your head turned slightly, seeking the source.

Jungkook stood inside, eyes focused on the phone in his hand, dressed in a perfectly pressed designer suit that somehow looked more sinfully casual on him than it had any right to.

You blinked, tearing your gaze away from him and turning back to Jimin, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh yeah, uh, the meeting's been pushed back a bit," Jimin said, nodding to the elevator. "But you're needed upstairs for a moment."

You frowned, glancing down at the heavy folder in your hands as you stepped into the elevator. If the meeting was postponed, you wouldn't have dragged this big fucking thing around with you. You left some space between yourself and the CEO and Jimin happily slid in between, his usual smile bright and easy.

The doors closed, and silence settled over the small space. Jungkook was still looking at his phone. Jimin still hadn't pressed a button.

You frowned. "Jiminie, why haven't you clicked a floor?"

He turned toward you, feigning confusion as his eyes flicked toward the panel. "Oh, because it's already pressed." He shrugged, flashing a quick smile before turning forward again.

You stared harder at the panel. From the corner of your eye, you could see Jungkook's broad frame. His phone was tucked away now, but his gaze remained fixed straight ahead. He hadn't said a word.

"Level nineteen?" you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.

Jimin nodded, offering you a simple smile.

The elevator crawled its way up slowly with a few more words exchanged between you and Jimin. Then, finally, the elevator dinged open at level nineteen, and the air shifted.

The sleek, pristine hallway stretched out before you, polished floors gleaming so bright that you could almost see your reflection in the tiles. You had only been here once before, for a department meeting with the CCO, Kim Namjoon.

Jimin politely bowed to his boss as you instinctively stepped back, allowing Jungkook to exit first. His gaze never wavered as he nodded in acknowledgment, his movements calm as he stepped out.

As you followed Jimin down the hall, you couldn't help but notice how eerily quiet everything was. The glass-paneled meeting rooms stood empty, the reception desk vacant. The last time you were here, the place had life, but now… nothing.

Jungkook disappeared into his office without a word while you and Jimin continued walking. Your confusion only deepened as you glanced through the glass panes into all the very empty meeting rooms.

Jimin slowed at the entryway to Jungkook's office.

"Jiminie, what's going on?" you asked, gently grabbing his arm. "Am I supposed to have a meeting with Jeon Jungkook-seonsaengnim? Why wasn't I informed? I need to know what's required—"

"Y/N," Jimin interrupted softly, his hand covering yours reassuringly. "I'll explain soon, okay? I know it's last minute, and I'm sorry for that. Let me just make sure everything is on track." He smiled at you before gesturing to the plush seats outside the office. "Take a seat. I won't be long."

You hesitated, but trusting your best friend, you nodded, setting your folder on the table before sitting down. Jimin gave you one last encouraging smile before disappearing inside Jungkook's office, the door clicking softly shut behind him.

Your eyes darted around the hallway as you waited, the clean surroundings feeling almost too sterile, too perfect. The glass walls of Jungkook's office made it impossible not to glance inside. You caught a glimpse of him flipping through a file, his expression focused, detached. Jimin approached him, placing his own file down on the desk as the two exchanged quiet words.

Jimin greeted his boss again with a respectful bow. "Seonsaengnim," he smiled, placing the file in front of Jungkook.

Jungkook didn't look up from the papers he was thumbing through. "Is she waiting for me?"

"Yes, sir," Jimin replied, his hands clasped neatly in front of him. "You have about thirty minutes before the board meeting, so I thought now could be a good time for you to meet with Y/LN Y/N… The temp administrative assistant from level twelve? Her contract ends in—"

"Four days," Jungkook finished, finally closing the file in front of him. He reached for the one Jimin had brought, flipping it open. "Why hasn't her contract been extended? Her performance is strong, and she has streamlined operations in her department. Does she not wish to stay with the company?"

"She does, sir," Jimin nodded. "But I was informed by Namjoon-seonsaengnim's assistant that Lee Dohyun does not plan to extend her contract. He intends to let it end."

Jungkook's brow twitched slightly, his eyes narrowing as he flipped through the papers. "And why does Dohyun plan to do that? She's efficient, profitable. She cleaned up the mess the last administrative assistant left behind." His tone was clipped, irritation poorly masked.

Jimin shifted on his feet, the hint of hesitation visible in his posture. "I'm not entirely sure, sir. It's mostly hearsay, but…" he cleared his throat, glancing at Jungkook before continuing cautiously, "there's a rumor that she rejected one of Dohyun's advances a few months ago. Since then, word has flown around that he's been less than accommodating toward her."

Jungkook's eyes darkened, his fingers stopping their idle flipping as his gaze snapped back to Jimin. "So, he's punishing her for not entertaining him?"

Jimin's silence was enough of an answer.

Jungkook's jaw clenched, the tension in his shoulders building. He flipped the file shut, the subtle thud of the paper echoing in the quiet office.

"Why have you brought her to me, Jimin?" he asked, shooting a sharp look at his assistant. "There's a chain of command. At least six people between Dohyun and me."

"There are," Jimin acknowledged. "But some months ago, you mentioned noticing a significant increase in productivity and efficiency in Administration… You said the improvements could be attributed to the new assistant's work. I just thought considering her contract ends in four days, you'd want to meet her personally before she accepts another offer."

Jungkook leaned back against his desk, glancing at the glass door where you were sitting, your legs crossed, eyes absentmindedly focused on a strand of your hair. His gaze flicked over your tight black pencil skirt, the cream blouse that hugged your figure, the neat ponytail held in place by four bobby pins.

"She's very good," he admitted, eyes dropping back to the folder. "But I don't meddle in the hiring department. Tell Dohyun to reconsider his decision."

Jimin shifted slightly. "He's on leave for the rest of the week, sir."

Jungkook sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. "Then go to the next in command, Jimin. I'm not—"

"She's accepting an offer from another firm tonight, Jungkook," Jimin said quickly, catching himself. "Jungkook-seonsaengnim," he corrected. "Once she signs the contract with KimCo, there won't be time to make a counteroffer."

Jungkook went quiet; his eyes focused on the closed folder in front of him as Jimin pressed on. "Just five minutes, sir. That's all she needs."

Jungkook's eyes flicked up to meet Jimin's. He rolled his eyes, leaning back on his desk, arms crossing over his chest. "You're supposed to make my life easier, not harder, Park."

Jimin couldn't help but grin, looking over his shoulder to catch you glancing down at your Apple watch. He bit back a snicker when you rolled your eyes, clearly getting impatient.

"She'd be a big loss, seonsaengnim," Jimin said honestly as he turned back to his boss. "I believe I'm making your life easier. You live, eat, and breathe this company."

Jungkook groaned, closing his eyes briefly before nodding. "Send her in. Five minutes."

"Thank you, seonsaengnim." Jimin bowed, turning toward the door.

"Jimin," Jungkook called out, his assistant's hand freezing on the handle.

"Yes, sir?"

"Draft effective immediate termination papers for Lee Dohyun and put them on my desk when you leave for the night."

Jimin bit back a grin. "Yes, sir."

You straightened in your seat as soon as you saw Jimin approaching, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He looked like the cat that caught the canary, and you didn't trust it for a second.

"Y/N, this way, please—"

"No," you snapped, swatting his outstretched hand away. "Brief me."

There was no way you were walking into a meeting with the fucking CEO without any preparation. Was he fucking high?

Jimin chuckled softly, clearly enjoying this way too much. "Relax, Y/N. It'll only take a few minutes. Jungkook's not much of a talker…" He reached out again, and you batted his hand away once more.

He laughed again, then pouted, blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. "Please, Y/N? Just trust me."

"God, you're a cunt," you muttered under your breath, shooting him a glare as you stood and smoothed your skirt. Reluctantly, you started toward the office.

"Unprofessional…" Jimin teased with a grin, snickering when you turned and mouthed 'get fucked' at him before stepping inside.

The glass doors clicked softly behind you as you entered the impeccably tidy office. "Seonsaengnim," you greeted with a bow. “Y/LN Y/N. It's nice to formally meet you."

Jungkook barely glanced up, his dark eyes sweeping over you for just a moment before he dropped them back down to the file on his desk.

His nod was curt, his voice low and indifferent. "Jeon Jungkook," he said, as if his name wasn't already plastered across every inch of this building.

When he gestured toward the seat in front of his desk, you sat down, crossing your legs as he settled back into his chair. His attention returned to the open file. "Your contract ends in four days."

"Yes, sir," you nodded, hands resting in your lap as you held back any trace of bitterness.

"Do you not wish to stay here?" His voice was steady as his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

You blinked, a little surprised by the question. "No, sir. I do wish to stay. But I haven't heard anything from management regarding a permanent position."

"Who do you report to?" Jungkook asked, though you were sure he already knew the answer.

"Lee Dohyun-seonsaengnim."

He leaned back in his chair, drumming his tattooed fingers lightly against the desk as he skimmed the file. "Your work is impressive."

"Thank you, sir." You smiled softly, ignoring how those four simple words made your stomach flip. "That means a lot coming from you."

His gaze lingered on you for a second longer before he closed the file and set it aside. "Y/LN Y/N," he said, his voice calm, "Why do you think your contract hasn't been extended?"

You blinked, momentarily thrown off by the question. "I'm not entirely sure, seonsaengnim."

Jungkook hummed. "You've been here almost a year. Your work speaks for itself. Yet your contract hasn't been extended." His gaze locked on yours, and for a second, he almost looked genuinely interested. "Why?"

You inhaled slowly, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "I've heard rumors, sir. But I'm not one hundred percent certain."

An eyebrow arched, and Jungkook tilted his head slightly. "Let's say the rumors are true. Do you think personal reasons should outweigh performance?"

"No, sir," you answered steadily. "But I don't control the decisions."

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with amusement. Whether he appreciated your honesty or just liked watching you squirm, you weren't sure. "Do you plan on accepting an offer from another company, Y/N?"

You gave a slight nod. "Yes, sir. My first choice is KimCo. They've offered me a permanent coordinator role in their administration department. I plan on sending my letter of acceptance tonight, after my shift."

Jungkook was quiet for a moment, his dark eyes roaming over you lazily, but enough that it was impossible not to notice. "Is there anything I can do to change your mind?" he asked finally, his voice casual as he leaned back in his chair. "Or are you happy to go to KimCo?"

"I would prefer to stay, sir," you said, holding his gaze. "If Jeon Corp is willing to match the salary offer and I'm guaranteed a permanent position."

"What's the offer?"

"₩67m, sir."

Jungkook's expression didn't change. "We can do eighty."

"Wha—"

"I'll have your permanent administrative coordinator contract drafted by tonight and emailed to you. Will that work?"

It took you a second to process his words before you blinked in surprise. "Yes, sir," you replied, fighting to keep the smile tugging at your lips in check. "It would."

Jungkook leaned back further in his chair, his eyes flicking over you once more, lingering in a way that wasn't accidental. Then, with a simple nod, he closed the file in front of him. "Good. I'll expect your response by tomorrow morning."

You still don't really know how it happened.

Maybe it started when you stood to give him a polite bow before leaving his office, and he reached out for a handshake at the exact same moment. His cold hand accidentally brushed against the side of your inner breast through your blouse as you leaned forward, and suddenly, both of you froze.

Jungkook pulled his hand back sharply, his brows furrowing as he stared down at the file on his desk like it was the most interesting thing in the world, muttering a low apology, his usual confident tone suddenly gone.

It was... so cute.

Seeing the man who looked like he could ruin your life with just a snap of his fingers suddenly all shy and flustered as if he was more embarrassed than you were? Fucking adorable.

Maybe it was his instinct to avoid an HR complaint, to maintain professionalism in what could have been misconstrued as an inappropriate touch.

But you weren't going to misconstrue it. It was an accident.

And, honestly... you always were kind of a sucker for bad boys with soft eyes.

"Fucking goodddd!!!" you moaned, your voice barely coherent as your cheek pressed against the cold surface of his desk. Each relentless thrust from Jungkook had your body jiggling under him, your mind lost in a haze as his hips slammed into you without mercy. "S-so fucking b-biiiiig."

Your eyes rolled back, throat raw from the croaky whimpers that escaped between each ragged breath. His hand was firm on the back of your head, keeping you pinned down, helpless as he took you apart, piece by piece.

"I know, baby," he cooed, his voice laced with that condescending pout that only made you clench harder around him. "I know it's big, baby. But you can take it, can't you?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, brushing lightly over your flushed cheek in a teasing, mocking pat. Then, without warning, he pulled back and slammed into you harder, deeper, until you felt him hit that spot. That fucking spottt. Your breath caught in your throat as he didn't stop, didn't let up, just kept going, over and over and over.

Your mouth fell open in a silent scream, nails scraping into the polished wood of his desk until you felt the lacquer gathering beneath your fingernails. The loud, wet slaps of his hips against your ass echoed through the room, his heavy balls smacking into your swollen clit.

"'Course you can take it. 'Cause you're such a hard worker, hm? Such an overachiever, aren't you, baby." His voice dripped with dark amusement, each taunting word sending shivers down your spine. His hand pressed your head harder into the desk, the weight of him leaving you trembling, drool pooling on the wood beneath you as you gasped and whimpered, completely at his mercy.

"You can take it, Y/N. Know you can," he murmured, every word like a filthy promise, his gaze locked on the way your body was surrendering to him, giving him everything. He wasn’t going to stop until you broke. Until you were his.

"Color, baby." He growled into your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He hummed in delight when he felt you swallow, your gasps feeding into his satisfaction.

"Green," you choked out, barely able to form the words. "Do anything to me. Green, fucking green to it all," you cried, voice raw as tears blurred your vision, and Jungkook groaned, teeth grazing the delicate skin of your throat in approval.

His grip tightened in your hair again, yanking you upright until your back was flush against his chest. "G-g-godddddd," you choked out, body trembling, tears threatening to spill as his thrusts grew quicker, more brutal, each one slamming harder and louder, drowning out everything else.

Your hands shot up, clawing desperately at the back of his neck as you tried to hold on, your body burning from the inside out as he destroyed you. His lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, teeth grazing your skin just as his hand slipped down your stomach, his fingers finding your swollen, slippery clit with ease.

Jungkook's pace became punishing, driving into you harder and faster, your body quivering under his touch. His lips brushed lazily over your neck, whispering filthy praise into your ear as his fingers circled your clit, sending a jolt through your entire body. The wet, sloppy sounds of his hips smacking into your ass filled the room, each thrust sending you closer to the edge.

"F-fuck, Jungkook," you gasped, your voice cracking as his pace quickened even more at the sound of his name on your lips. "It's s-so… fuck…"

He groaned low in your ear, his hand fisting your hair tighter, yanking your head back as his hips crashed into you over and over. "So good, Y/N baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "You're doing so fucking well. Taking it so good."

The praise made your throat bob, your entire body teetering on the edge of collapse. You couldn't think of anything but him—full, Jungkook, full, Jungkook. It was all-consuming, the only thing that mattered.

You weren't just wet anymore—you were disgustingly soaked, your arousal dripping down your thighs, mixing with the sweat on your skin as he ruined you. You let out a sob as tears streaked down your cheeks, your mascara no doubt smeared beyond repair as your entire body burned with pleasure.

"Careful, baby," he hummed darkly, voice tinged with amusement. "Don't want anyone to hear you, huh. Coming to check if you're okay..."

Your eyes flicked toward the glass doors, your head lolling back into the crook of his neck as you realized the vulnerability of your position. Fucked out, skirt bunched up around your waist, tits spilling over your bra, completely on display and helpless in his arms—holy fuck. The idea of someone seeing you like this had your thighs pathetically trembling as you felt yourself get even wetter. Sicko.

"S-sir," you stammered, the words forced out between his relentless thrusts that threw your body forward. "Cl-close the blinds."

Jungkook's lips curled into a smile against your neck at the lack of conviction in your words. Fucking perfect. His breath was warm as he whispered, "Why would I want to do that?" His hand slid to your chin, his fingers gripping firmly as he forced your eyes to the glass. "Y'look so fucking pretty, Y/N. Who would want to hide all that?"

Humiliation mixed with need, making your core throb even harder. The reflection of your wrecked form stared back at you—trembling, sweaty, makeup running down your tear-streaked face.

Well, he wasn't wrong. You did look kind of pretty.

The thought of how many other women had been in this same position with him briefly slithered through your mind, but you whimpered, pushing it away.

"H-harder, Jungkook… please," you gasped, voice a broken plea. "P-please, baby?"

That was all it took. His low groan vibrated through you, his hands gripping your waist tight as he snapped his hips into you with a force that made the desk rattle beneath your hands. One hand cupped your breast, tugging harshly at your nipple, while the other slipped down to mercilessly slap at your clit over and over.

"Shit, shit, shit, shittttt!" you sobbed, your voice high and broken, pleasure tearing through your body.

"You're close, aren't you?" Jungkook rasped, his voice rough as his thrusts grew erratic, harder, faster. "Getting so fucking tight around me. Gonna come for me, aren't you, baby?"

Your mind was gone. You couldn't focus on anything but the feeling of him inside you, stretching you, filling you, owning you. "J-Jungkook..." you slurred, your head falling back against his chest, "please make me come, baby, pleasepleasepleaseeee."

Jungkook's arms tightened around your trembling body, and in one quick motion, he sat back in his office chair, pulling you down into his lap. You cried out as his hands hooked under the back of your knees, planting his feet on the ground and spreading your legs wide, completely open, and facing the see-through fucking doors.

He didn't give you a second to breathe before he started pounding into you again, his fat cock hitting so deep at the new angle that your body shook uncontrollably. You couldn't even hear your own cries—just the wet, obscene slapping of skin and Jungkook's gorgeous groans in your ear.

"Rub your fucking clit," he commanded, his voice thick with urgency. "Come. Now, Y/N. Fucking come."

Your hand flew to your clit, trembling fingers rubbing furiously, slipping because you were so fucking wet. "Jungkook," you gasped, voice breaking, tears pouring down your cheeks.

"No, baby, f-fuckkk, I'm sor—" You couldn't stop the sobs, your body convulsing as the tension coiled tighter and tighter inside you. "Jungkook, I'm—I'm so sorry, ahhhh fuckkk! I-I'm gonna squirt, oh my goddddd!"

"Fuck, yes," he growled, and just as your body started to seize up, his hand shot down, pressing hard on your lower belly and bladder, right where he was buried deep inside you. His hips didn't relent, pounding into you with the same brutal pace.

The pressure on your abdomen made everything inside you snap. Your scream tore through his office as your walls clamped down hard on him, your body shaking violently as your hand trembled, losing its grip on your clit. You came so hard that your hand slipped away entirely, but before the overwhelming release could fade, Jungkook's hand was there, replacing yours instantly. His fingers rubbed your swollen clit with intense pressure, refusing to let you stop.

"Fuckk, look at that fucking pussy, Y/N," he growled as he slapped your pulsing clit over and over. "Keep going, fuck, keep squirting on my fucking dick, baby, holy shittttt."

The filthy command tipped you over the edge again. The sensation was too much, and you started to gush even harder. Wetness sprayed everywhere, soaking his lap, drenching the desk. You were fucking gone.

"Holy fuck," Jungkook choked out at the sight of your cunt gushing out liquid, his hips jerking erratically as his body tensed beneath you. He came hard into the condom with a deep, broken groan, his grip on you tight as he rode out his release, still rubbing your clit with nasty, unrelenting strokes, making sure you didn't stop.

Your body convulsed violently, your legs shaking uncontrollably as he kept rubbing, drawing out every last wave of your orgasm until you were a trembling, sobbing mess. His big hand cupped over your warm pussy, feeling it throb beneath his palm as he slowed his thrusts, easing you through the last shudders of your release.

"My godddd," he growled, his voice raw with awe as he moved his hand and looked down at the mess you'd made. Your quivering pussy, glistening and red, his slacks drenched, the chair wet, and even some paperwork on the desk soaked through.

Fuck, he groaned internally. He's obsessed.

Your chest heaved as you slumped against him, completely spent, your head falling onto his shoulder. Jungkook’s hands glided up and down your trembling thighs, suppressing the smile tugging at his lips as you buried your face into the crook of his neck, clinging to him like he was the only thing holding you together.

"Well done," he murmured, his lips grazing your forehead before pressing a soft kiss there. You could still feel his heart racing against your skin as you tried to catch your breath.

"Seonsaengnim," you muttered, still panting, "I'm so sorry about your papers—"

"Shut up," Jungkook cut you off with a roll of his eyes, your sudden shift to formalities clearly grating on him. His hands continued their soothing path over your stomach, fingers brushing lightly over the soft skin before he gently adjusted your legs on his lap. His strong thighs kept your feet dangling above the floor, his touch softening as he patted your belly absentmindedly, his voice easing. "It’s alright."

You tried to gather yourself, your mind still spinning. "I haven't done that in a while," you mumbled into his neck, the words slipping out without thought. "God."

Jungkook swallowed hard, suppressing the mix of emotions rising in his chest. Pride at making you feel this way. Anger at knowing someone else had. His jaw clenched briefly before he cleared his throat, forcing a casual hum of acknowledgment. "Good."

He patted your belly a couple more times, as though resetting his focus. "You okay to get dressed?" he asked, his voice slipping into something nonchalant, though the grip on your thighs lingered a moment longer than necessary. "I've got a meeting soon."

You cleared your throat and nodded, feeling a little unsteady as you began to push yourself up from his lap. His hands helped guide you as you stood, and you winced slightly as he slipped out of you, leaving you feeling oddly empty. Your legs wobbled beneath you, but you ignored the sensation, letting your skirt fall back into place. You glanced around the room, searching for your panties.

You crouched down, looking under the chair, then the desk, even flipping through some of the papers on his desk, but there was no sign of them.

"Have you seen my…?" you trailed off, turning to look at him, feeling the confusion settle in as you noticed his casual indifference. Jungkook, now having disposed of the condom, zipped up his slacks with an air of calmness that seemed just a bit too casual for your liking.

You raised a brow, suspicion growing. His expression mirrored yours with a glint in his eyes.

"Where are they?" you asked, narrowing your gaze.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, a faint smirk playing on his lips as he straightened his shirt. Then, he casually slipped his hands into his pockets, and that's when you caught the faintest flicker of black lace peeking out from one of them.

You scoffed, stepping toward him, but before you could snatch them back, Jungkook caught your hand. He snickered softly as he brought it to his lips, pressing a mocking kiss to your knuckles.

“01J09. Lock the door when you leave, Y/N." His tone was commanding but light as he slipped past you, grabbing his suit jacket as if nothing had happened. He gave you one last look before walking out of the room, leaving you standing in the middle of his messed-up office.

You slumped back into his chair with a huff, quickly adjusting your bra and buttoning your blouse. As you started to tidy the room, you found some disinfectant wipes in a cupboard and began cleaning the desk, trying to distract yourself.

The sound of the door opening behind you startled you, and you quickly turned, assuming Jungkook had returned. But when you locked eyes with your best friend smirking widely at the scene, your stomach dropped.

"You fucking slut!" Jimin shouted, closing the door behind him as he made his way toward you, cupping your face with both hands. His grin was bright, teasing, as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Holy shit! I'm mortified that I just walked past and saw my best friend getting railed by my boss… but I'm also so fucking happy! So, are you staying? Are you guys a thing? How did it happen? Holy fuck—"

"Jiminie," you whined, pulling his hands away and turning back to the desk to finish cleaning, "I'll tell you later. My legs hurt, and we need to get to the meeting—"

"The meeting's over," Jimin interrupted with a snicker, "it's been an hour."

"What the fuck?!" Panic washed over you as you turned to face him, eyes wide.

Jimin just shrugged, still wearing that smug smile. "It's fine, Y/N. I took notes; they're on our shared drive. It wasn't anything important. Definitely not as important as the 'meeting' you were in."

You snorted, tossing the used wipes into the bin and slipping your heels back on as you made your way toward the door, legs still shaky. "Jesus, Jimin, I can barely walk."

"I noticed," Jimin teased, his voice full of amusement. "Want me to carry you?"

"No thanks," you replied quickly, shuddering at the thought. "I'd rather crawl than have anyone see you carry me out of here."

"Are you at least going to the bathroom to fix your hair and makeup?" he asked, eyeing you critically. "You look like you were attacked by a swarm of wasps..."

You groaned. "Yes, Jiminie. I'm going to the bathroom. Now stop pestering me, or you'll be having movie night alone tomorrow."

His smirk softened into a playful smile. "Okay, okay. I'll wait for you in your office."

You waited for him to leave before entering the pin code to lock Jungkook's office door. After hearing the beep and confirming the door was secure, you turned to head toward the bathroom, only to find Jimin still blocking your path, brows furrowed and eyes wide.

"Jimin-ah, move—"

"He gave you the code to his office?" Jimin's voice was serious now, the lightheartedness from earlier gone.

You blinked at him, confused by the sudden shift in his tone. "Yes. Can you please move?"

Jimin didn't budge. His frown deepened as he processed the information. “Y/N… He doesn't just give the code to his office out. To anyone."

Your stomach twisted at his words. "Maybe he'll change it later. He said he had a meeting to go to—"

Jimin shook his head. "He hasn't changed that code since he took over. And… he just canceled his meetings for this afternoon. I thought it was because…"

The sinking feeling in your stomach grew worse. Of course, Jungkook lied and just wanted to leave. What was he supposed to do—sit there and cuddle you? Offer you aftercare? This wasn't new for him. You weren't special. Just another woman in a long line.

You swallowed hard, ignoring the bile rising in your throat. "Jiminie, can I… meet you downstairs? I need to go to the bathroom."

Jimin's expression softened instantly, his hand reaching out to brush some hair from your face before leaning in to kiss your forehead. "Okay, love. I'll get you some water and wait in your office."

You thanked him quietly before heading to the bathroom, locking the door before you leaned heavily against the sink. Staring at your reflection, you sighed at the sight. Your sleek ponytail was merely a distant memory, makeup smeared beyond repair. And there, on your neck, was a deep hickey blooming against your skin.

"Idiot," you muttered to yourself as you turned the tap on, starting to scrub your face clean in attempt to erase every trace of what just happened.

What was happening to you? You never let stuff like this get to you. You'd had more than your fair share of one-night stands, and you knew better than to let them mean anything. It was nothing to him, and it should've been nothing to you.

But god, it felt like so much more than nothing.

"Idiotttt," you muttered again, this time more frustrated. As you aggressively wiped away the mascara and dried tears, your eyes kept drifting back to the hickey. You sighed, knowing you had no makeup to cover it until you got back to your office.

With a huff, you walked toward the toilet and sat down, your hand grazing the mark on your neck while you peed. The memory of his lips still lingered fresh in your mind, and the longer you sat there, the more the reality of it all began to sink in.

Fuck, you groaned internally. You're obsessed.

Jungkook pulled the keys from the ignition, stepping out of his car and adjusting the collar of his suit jacket when it shifted out of place. The door clicked shut behind him as he locked the Mercedes, casually slipping his phone into his pocket—right next to your panties, still snug in the black fabric of his slacks.

When he reached the reception desk, a fake redhead sat behind it, focused on a stack of paperwork. She didn’t notice him at first, not until the sound of his footsteps caught her attention. The moment her eyes met his, Jungkook noticed the way she straightened in her seat, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Oh, hello,” she greeted, her voice sweet but dripping with an attempt at seduction. “Welcome to Jang Merriott. How can I be of service?”

Jungkook swallowed the grimace threatening to surface, but his lips curved into that fake, charming smile he’d perfected for work events. “Hi, darling.” His voice was smooth, just the right amount of warmth. “I’m here for a business meeting, but I’m so silly...” He leaned in slightly, watching her eyes widen. His voice dropped to a lower, more intimate tone. “I forgot which room it’s in. Think you could help me?”

His eyes flicked to her nametag—Cho Minju—and when he looked back, he could practically see her mind spinning. “I-I…” she stammered, fingers hovering over the keyboard. “Do you have the name of the—”

“Lee Dohyun,” Jungkook answered easily, not missing the way she gulped when he added softly, “Thank you, baby.”

“L-Lee Dohyun,” she echoed nervously, typing the name into the system with shaky fingers. Then she paused, biting her lip. “I, um… I really shouldn’t if you aren’t—if you’re not on the guest list…”

“It would really help me out, Minju-yah,” Jungkook murmured, his voice taking on a softer, boyish edge. His brows furrowed just slightly as he leaned in a touch more, looking at her through his lashes. “If I’m late, Dohyun-seonsaengnim will kill me… I’ll make it up to you. Promise.”

Her wide eyes blinked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth. He could see the internal battle playing out in her head—protocol versus the hot guy in front of her. Predictably, protocol lost.

“Floor 13, room 304,” she whispered, her cheeks flushed.

“Thank you, baby,” Jungkook replied with a charming smile, slipping a hundred-dollar bill into her tip jar before walking toward the elevator. Minju’s breath caught again as he turned and walked toward the elevator, not looking back once.

As the elevator doors slid shut with a soft chime, Jungkook’s facade dropped, and he let out a small, amused scoff. He thought that was going to cost him at least a couple grand.

The elevator hummed softly as it ascended. When the monotone voice announced floor 13, the doors slid open, revealing a quiet, plush carpeted hallway. Jungkook strode out, his eyes narrowing slightly as he made his way to room 304.

“Jungkook-seonsaengnim?” Dohyun’s voice cracked in surprise when he opened the door, eyes widening at the unexpected sight of his boss. “I’m on leave, sir, is everything oka—”

The words barely left his mouth before Jungkook’s fist connected sharply with the side of his jaw. The force of the blow sent Dohyun crashing to the ground, his head snapping back as he sprawled out, half-dangling outside the doorway. His feet splayed awkwardly on the floor, barely moving. Jungkook nudged his limp body inside with the toe of his polished shoe, stepping over him as he calmly closed the door behind him with a soft click.

“Everything’s fine, Dohyun.” Jungkook’s voice was casual, almost too calm, as he crouched down to level his gaze with the man on the floor. Dohyun was clutching his jaw, eyes wide with terror, blinking back tears as he struggled to sit up. Confusion mixed with fear spread across his face, trembling as he tried to find his words.

Jungkook tilted his head, a slow, cold smirk pulling at his lips. "Great, actually," he continued, the menace in his voice unmistakable. His eyes flickered over the man on the ground as if he were nothing more than something to be dealt with. “And it’ll be even better in a second.”

TODAY

The soft click of heels against tile echoed down the pristine hall of level nineteen. Jimin and Hobi were either side of you, all three of you deep in conversation about Jimin's latest epic love saga.

“And afterward, we went and got ice cream,” Jimin sighed, a dreamy smile spreading across his lips. “And he even paid for my cone. I think he’s the one.”

You and Hobi shared a knowing look before turning back to him. Hobi giggled, shaking his head, while you leaned your head on Jimin’s shoulder, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he is, honey. Was it at least a double scoop?”

Jimin beamed, nodding enthusiastically, but his excitement faltered the second he caught the teasing smirks plastered on your and Hobi’s faces. His expression morphed into a pout as he narrowed his eyes at the both of you.

"Whatever. Just because you—" Jimin shot a pointed look at Hobi, "—don’t sleep with anyone more than once because of your deep-rooted commitment issues, and you—" he turned his accusing gaze to you, "—have found the only person in Seoul as crazy and fucked up as you to spend the rest of your life with, doesn’t make Min Yoongi any less of a perfect prince."

Hoseok grunted, crossing his arms dramatically as you broke into laughter. "You're not wrong," you hummed with a shrug, right as Hobi muttered defensively, "I don't have commitment issues."

It was Hobi’s turn to receive knowing looks from both of you before he sighed, dramatically slowing his pace as you reached the entrance of the meeting room. "Whatever, you guys suck."

Snickering softly, the three of you stepped inside, bowing politely to the handful of executives already seated around the large meeting table. As usual, the three of you were early, but you noticed that a few others had already claimed their seats. Unfortunately, there weren’t three consecutive spots left for you all to sit together.

Your gaze immediately went to the head of the table, the seat reserved for the CEO, which was still empty. You knew Jungkook was in a meeting with Kim Namjoon that had run overtime, so their arrival was indefinitely delayed.

The seat closest to the CEO’s chair—Namjoon’s usual spot—was unoccupied, but the one on the opposite end, typically claimed by you, Jimin, or Hobi, was already taken. You felt your blood boil when you saw Heejin, the newly appointed temp head of Communications while Sana Minatozaki was on maternity leave, sitting there comfortably, scrolling through a document on her laptop.

Jimin caught your eye, noticing Heejin as well, and gestured toward the chair next to her, silently offering it to you. You just shook your head, flashing a small smile as if to say, no fucking thanks. He and Hobi settled into two seats beside each other, leaving you to scan the rest of the room for an available spot.

Your options weren’t great.

A middle seat between Hailey and Vernon—two relentless chatterboxes from levels three and four—caught your eye. You grimaced immediately at the thought of being dragged into their non-stop, ping-pong conversation about god knows what. They could probably talk about fucking office supplies for hours if given the chance.

Then your gaze shifted to the next option: a seat next to Kang Minho, the scruffy finance head. As expected, he was already twirling a cigar between his fingers, his eyes twitching in clear defiance of the new no-smoking rule in meetings. The urge to light it was practically vibrating off him.

You sighed.

That left the only bearable choice: a seat next to Oh Sehun, the head of Technology and Innovation. He was known to be quiet and professional, and most importantly, he's least likely to annoy you.

Resigned, you pulled the chair next to Sehun, placing your laptop and phone on the table in front of you. He glanced over with a polite smile, nodding in greeting. You returned the gesture, settling into your seat and immediately focusing on starting up your laptop.

The room settled into a quiet lull, with only a few hushed conversations breaking the silence. Most of the attendees were either finishing up side discussions or preparing for the meeting as they trickled in. As your laptop booted up, you instinctively picked up your phone, slipping it under the table. Your fingers moved quickly, opening the location app and tapping on Jungkook’s name. The pin was still loading when you heard a throat clear beside you.

Oh, here we fucking go.

“Y/N-ssi?”

You locked your phone and turned toward Sehun with a forced smile. "Yes, Sehun-ssi. How can I help?"

His smile widened slightly, a little shy. "Uh, I just wanted to say… congratulations. Your promotion to Head of Operations & Efficiency—it's no small feat. Not an easy title to earn or handle. But I've seen your work, and it's… admirable. Truly."

You almost frowned, caught off guard. That was… really sweet.

"Oh," you replied, your voice softening. "Thank you, Sehun-ssi, that’s very kind of you. I appreciate it a lot." You smiled genuinely this time. "And I’ve heard a lot about you, too. Running your department is also no easy task, and you do it well."

Sehun grinned, his head dipping slightly as his ears turned a bit red. "Ah, thank you so much," he murmured, looking humbled. "I’ve learned a lot from our CEO, Jungkook-seonsaengnim. He’s incredible. One day, I hope to have my own business and run it just like him."

You bit the inside of your lip, warmth swelling in your chest at the compliment to your man. "He is," you agreed softly, your smile a little more private this time. "And I’m sure you will."

Sehun’s lip was caught between his teeth as his eyes seemed to linger just below yours, but before you could say anything else, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room, drawing your attention. You turned toward the entrance.

Jungkook and Namjoon strode into the room, their presence immediately commanding attention. Namjoon greeted the department heads with a dimply smile, but your eyes locked onto Jungkook. His gaze, however, wasn’t on you—it was unwaveringly fixed on Sehun’s reddened face. A flash of something dark crossed his features, and he didn’t spare you or anyone else a glance as he took his seat at the head of the table.

Straightening in your chair, you swallowed the scoff that rose in your throat. He didn’t even acknowledge you, his attention already on the file in front of him as he flipped through it silently. Namjoon’s eyes flickered over Jungkook’s hardened expression before realizing the CEO wouldn’t be opening the meeting. Clearing his throat, Namjoon stood up and took over.

"Good morning, everyone. Glad to see you all here," Namjoon greeted, flashing a bright, toothy smile. The room responded with polite murmurs. "We’ve got a full agenda today, so let’s start with—"

About thirty minutes into the meeting, you were still focused on your notes. Namjoon was wrapping up his discussion on a new marketing campaign strategy that had piqued your interest. You were typing up the last few points when Jungkook’s deep voice suddenly rang out. Your body reacted instantly, muscles relaxing after hearing him finally speak after what felt like hours of his silence.

"Sehun," Jungkook called out, his tone firm and commanding, and your head snapped up instinctively, surprised to find that Sehun had leaned over, perhaps about to whisper something to you while Namjoon was speaking.

"Did you have a question about the campaign strategy?" Jungkook’s voice was measured, but you felt the tension behind it.

Sehun jerked back, startled by the sudden attention. "Oh, I- no, sir, I was just—"

"Conversing with your colleague while your superior was in the middle of speaking," Jungkook finished for him, his dark gaze unwavering, pinning the tech head in place. "I'm sure I’d be more than capable of answering any questions you have regarding the project. Go ahead."

It wasn’t a suggestion—it was an order.

Sehun swallowed nervously, eyes flicking down to his laptop as if it held the answers. Then, foolishly, he glanced at you, probably hoping for some kind of lifeline. You could only offer him an apologetic look, knowing your boyfriend's ways.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched visibly, his irritation evident as he barked out, "Do you need her to speak for you?" His fist tightened on the table beside him, knuckles paling. "Are you that incompetent?"

Your gaze slowly shifted from Sehun, who was visibly shaken, to your boyfriend, who was fucking seething. You sighed softly, dropping your gaze back to your laptop, fingers resuming their typing with a small shake of your head.

And then his voice came again. A little softer, but still pissed. "Did you have something to add, Y/N?"

Your fingers froze mid-typing. The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel every pair of eyes turning to you. Everyone knew about your relationship with Jungkook. It wasn’t a secret, but it wasn’t exactly something you had announced over the firm intercom, either. Most of the department heads were aware and knew better than to draw attention to it, but there were still some, like poor Sehun, who hadn’t quite pieced it together yet.

When you looked up, Jungkook’s dark eyes were locked on you. From your peripheral, you saw Jimin and Hobi exchanging wide-eyed glances, while Heejin’s gaze flickered nervously between you and the CEO.

Every fiber in your bratty being wanted to fight back, make him repeat himself, ask him what the fuck he was trying to prove by putting you on the spot in front of a room full of department heads. But the professional in you won out, forcing you to bite your tongue.

You shook your head calmly. "No, sir." The silence was deafening. You turned to Namjoon, whose eyes were carefully trained on his papers. "My apologies, Namjoon-seongsaengnim," you said. "We didn’t mean to interrupt you. Please, continue."

Namjoon nodded appreciatively, sending you a brief smile before moving on. “Right, as I was saying…”

The meeting finally wrapped up, and everyone began packing up their things. Some were quicker than others to vacate the room, with Kang Minho leading the pack, cigar already halfway to his lips, lighter flicking in agitation.

You closed your laptop with a little more force than intended, irritation still simmering under your skin. Grabbing your jacket off the back of your chair, you stood, feeling Sehun shifting beside you, fumbling to gather his things. You could almost sense the apology hanging on the edge of his lips, and you sighed internally, praying he wouldn’t try and engage in conversation with you again.

Jimin and Hobi walked over, ready to leave, but your attention was drawn to Heejin’s voice as she spoke to Jungkook. Your movements slowed as you listened.

“Thank you for such a great meeting, seonsaengnim,” she said sweetly, her fingers tapping the edge of her laptop.

You clenched your jaw slightly, the inside of your cheek caught between your teeth. Namjoon had handled ninety percent of the presentation—what the fuck was she even thanking him for?

“I actually had a few concerns for the Communications department that I was hoping to run by you—"

"Take them up with your superior," Jungkook replied, not even bothering to glance her way as he slipped his phone into his pocket and made his way toward the door.

Heejin smiled, clearly undeterred as she closed her laptop and followed after him. "But you are my superior," she giggled. Your brows furrowed as you turned to look at her follow after your man like a lost puppy. Your grip on your laptop tightened.

Jungkook sighed, forgetting she had even been promoted recently. Still, he didn’t glance at her. “Make an appointment with one of my assistants, Heejin,” he said, his voice dripping with impatience. “I have somewhere to be. Excuse me, please.”

Excuse me, please? You rolled your eyes. Why doesn't he just tell her to get on her knees and get to work?

Heejin nodded, still all smiles as she left the room, laptop clutched to her chest. You gathered your things and fell into step with Jimin and Hobi. Jungkook paused near the end of the table, his gaze boring into you, but you ignored the stare, slipping between your friends as you headed out.

“Y/N-ssi,” Sehun’s voice cut through the air as he jogged to catch up with the three of you.

You sucked your teeth, glancing down at your watch. Fifteen minutes until your production conference. Enough time to grab something to eat since you’d skipped breakfast—thanks to Jungkook’s insistence on christening yet another room in your new house this morning. The laundry room, this time. And as it turns out, sex on top of a dryer was a lot better and less uncomfortable than you’d expected.

Jimin took your laptop from your hands, giving you a soft smile. "I’ll drop this off at your office. Hobi and I are heading that way."

You nodded in thanks, turning back to Sehun, only to catch Jungkook’s eyes glaring at you from behind the tech leader’s frame. His brows were furrowed, a silent question written all over his face—what the fuck are you doing?

Ignoring your fuming boyfriend, you refocused on Sehun. "You alright?" you asked.

Sehun nodded quickly. "Yeah, I just—" He started to say more but stopped abruptly, his body stiffening as if he could feel Jungkook's glare on the back of his neck. Turning, he blinked, clearly startled to see the CEO still there. "Oh—hi, sir. Once again, I’m so sorry about—"

"It’s okay, Sehun-ssi," you cut him off, drawing his attention back to you. "I need to grab something to eat. Is this important?"

Sehun shifted nervously. "Ah, well... it can wait." His ears were going red again. "How much time do you have? Did you want to stop by the cafe on level 10 before your conference? I was heading there anyway—"

At that, Jungkook’s head snapped up, his gaze zeroing in as he pushed himself off the table. You stepped around Sehun, positioning yourself between him and your clearly furious boyfriend.

"No, thank you, Sehun. I’ll catch you later, okay?" You kept your tone light, ignoring the fact that you had definitely not told him that you were on your way to a conference.

Sehun, still a bit confused, turned slightly to see what had you moving so quickly. And that’s when he saw it—Jungkook’s dark, cold glare burning holes through him. Before Sehun could stutter another word, Jungkook’s eyes flicked down to you, noting the goosebumps on your arms. He grabbed the jacket from your hands and silently made you slip your arms into it.

That’s when the realization hit Sehun like a fucking brick.

His face went ghostly pale, and you could visibly see him swallow nervously. "Oh my god… are you—are you two—"

You nodded simply, sliding your arms into the jacket as Jungkook remained silently brooding behind you.

"I—I am so—sir, I’m so sorry! I would never—"

"Sehun-ssi, it’s fine." You gave him a polite, almost bored smile. "Let's talk later."

Sehun barely managed a shaky nod before he bolted, red-faced and flustered, out of the room.

"You’re such a jealous psycho," you muttered under your breath, turning to face Jungkook, who was still fuming quietly. You puckered your lips for a kiss.

Jungkook just glared, his eyes flicking to your lips for a moment before leaning down to give you a quick, soft peck. You frowned, leaning in for another, but he pulled back, narrowing his eyes at you.

"Why’d you sit there?" he asked, glancing down at your jacket, noticing you hadn’t done up the top two buttons. When he reached to fasten them, you smacked his hand away, refusing to let him make you look like a nun.

"Because your girlfriend was in my usual seat," you shot back, poking him in the stomach before turning on your heel and heading toward the door.

"And I’m the jealous one?" he muttered, flicking the lights off as he followed behind you.

"Yes," you hummed, walking down the now-empty hall, clear of all the departmental seniors and visitors.

You reached the elevator when Jungkook’s arms wrapped around your waist from behind, his head resting comfortably in the crook of your neck. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his warm cheek as you reached out to press the down arrow.

"That poor boy almost pissed himself because of you."

"I felt like I was very soft on him," Jungkook shrugged, taking a deep inhale of your honey scented skin before pressing a kiss to your neck and standing upright. His hands slipped under your jacket to rest on your belly over your blouse, his fingers grazing your skin gently. "Could’ve been a lot worse."

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, but couldn’t resist the urge to look up at his adorable pout. You puckered your lips again, and this time, he gave in, leaning down for a proper kiss. Spinning in his arms, his hands fell naturally to rest on your ass as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to deepen the kiss.

A soft moan escaped your lips when his tongue slid between them, licking into your mouth in the way only he could. It felt like only milliseconds before the elevator dinged, snapping you back to reality. You reluctantly pulled away, biting his lip gently before spinning around to face the opening doors.

The elevator revealed Kim Namjoon, standing there with his head tilted, eyebrow raised. "Jungkook-ah, the board is waiting. Answer your fuckin' phone, man," the CCO huffed, gesturing for you both to step inside with a hurried wave of his hand.

You smiled at Namjoon and walked into the elevator, Jungkook right behind you. His hand found its way back to your belly, rubbing absentmindedly as you hit the button for level 12.

Namjoon scrolled through something on his phone, snickering. "What time are you planning on getting there tonight, Kook? The RSVP says 6, but they don’t start serving drinks until 8, so I'll be there around 9," he chuckled.

Your ears perked up at the mention of the event. You fiddled with Jungkook’s tattooed fingers on your stomach, glancing up at him as you waited for him to respond.

"For what?" Jungkook asked, not looking up from his phone.

You almost frowned at his response. He already told you he had a sponsorship function tonight. Jungkook never forgets things like that.

Namjoon barely glanced up. "That promo celebration for the girl taking over for Sana-ssi?" He explained, locking his phone and leaning back. "Shit, I forgot if we need to bring gifts. I'll check with my assistant—"

You didn’t hear anything after that. Everything faded, the muffled sounds of the elevator blending together like white noise. Jungkook’s hand stiffened against your stomach, and that was all the confirmation you needed.

He hadn’t gotten his schedule mixed up. He knew damn well what event Namjoon was referring to. The "sponsorship function" was actually a celebration for that dirty slut from level 7, and that dirty slut from level 7 had gotten a permanent promotion, which would bring her even closer when fucking working with him.

The elevator doors slid open, and without a second thought, you shoved Jungkook’s hand off you and stormed out.

"Baby," Jungkook was immediately on your tail, ignoring Namjoon’s confused calls from behind.

"Wh— Jungkook-ah? What the fuck? Where are you going?"

"Baby, wait." Jungkook's voice was tense as he caught up to you, but when his hand reached out to grab your arm, you shoved it off aggressively.

"I’m so fucking serious right now, don’t touch me, Jungkook." You spat, whipping around to face him. He just shook his head, trying to step closer, but you put your hand up, keeping him at a distance. "I’m not fucking kidding—"

"Baby, listen to me—" he tried, his voice urgent.

"Get the fuck away from me," you snapped, digging into your pocket for your phone, your fingers trembling as you scrolled through your contacts. "God, you know I fucking hate it when you lie, and you just—" You groaned, your fist tightening around your phone as you shoved his hands off you once again.

"Who are you texting?" Jungkook frowned, trying to get a look at your phone over your shoulder.

"None of your fucking business," you spat, stepping out of his reach.

"Y/N, don't. If you're not going to let me explain—"

"My mom," you snapped sarcastically, your fingers flying across the screen as you started typing. "They finally adapted technology so you can get cell reception six feet underground now. It's great."

Jungkook scoffed, clearly unamused, but he continued following closely behind you as you started walking again. "If you can lie to me, then I can fucking lie to you, right?" you added mockingly.

He tried to grab your phone, but you dodged him, sending the message just in time. His jaw tightened when he saw the screen. "Like hell you’re sleeping at Jimin’s tonight, are you fucking crazy?"

"Well, I’m not staying in a house with a fucking liar, that’s for sure," you shot back, your tone sharp as you moved further away from him.

"You’re not staying at Jimin’s," he repeated firmly, his voice absolute.

His certainty made you laugh bitterly. "I’m staying at Jimin’s or I’m staying at Hyungwon’s. You fucking choose."

Jungkook’s fists clenched at his sides, his face hardening in disbelief. "Why the fuck would you say that, Y/N?"

"I don't have anywhere to go, Jungkook!" Your voice rose, frustration and pain bubbling to the surface. You could feel eyes on you from the staff scattered around the floor, but you didn’t care. "You are my home. I don’t have anywhere else to fucking—"

Jungkook’s expression softened when your voice broke, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed hard. He stepped closer, his hands slipping under your jacket, palms smoothing down your hips. "Then don't fucking go, baby. Just don’t go anywhere, please. Don’t go to Jimin’s." He begged.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt the warmth of his hands, the familiar comfort of his body close to yours. His face rested in the crook of your neck, and despite your anger, you found yourself leaning into him slightly, knowing full well that getting to your conference on time now was just a lost cause.

"Tell me why you lied then," you mumbled, your voice quieter, your sniffles betraying you.

Jungkook pulled back, his thumbs swiping gently under your eyes, wiping the tears away before they could fully form. His fingers brushed under your nose as he wiped away the dribble there. "Because I knew it would upset you. We’ve been doing so well in our new place, baby—I didn’t want anything to ruin it." His voice was soft, almost pleading. "I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was only going to make an appearance and come home straight away."

You studied his face, your own expression softening despite the anger still bubbling inside you. You understood him, you really did. But you still hated when he lied. "Then why didn’t you just ask me to go with you?" Your voice wavered, doubt creeping in despite yourself. "Did you... not want to be seen with me?"

You didn’t even know where the self-doubt was coming from. Jungkook loved you. He loved letting people know you were his. He didn’t care who was around when he kissed you or rested a hand on your body, claiming you without shame. But something about Heejin… She got under your skin in a way that you couldn’t describe. Maybe it was because she’d been here longer, known him longer. She was going to be in meetings with him now—department head meetings, one-on-one meetings. The thought alone made you feel sick.

Jungkook sighed, his hands cupping your cheeks, and pressed two quick, soft kisses on your lips. "Don’t say dumb shit like that," he murmured, his voice soft but firm. He pulled back slightly, his eyes locking with yours. "I wanted to have a joint office, but you said that was unprofessional or whatever." He rolled his eyes, giving you a little smirk.

You blinked, hugging your arms around yourself, stepping back a little. "Then why?" Your voice was quieter now, laced with the confusion and hurt you couldn’t hide. "Why didn’t you want me to go? I’ve gone with you to plenty of functions."

Jungkook hesitated, and you felt the tension settle back into the air between you. His silence weighed heavy, and that familiar twist of anxiety and anger began to gnaw at you again.

"It’s because of Hyungwon, isn’t it?" you asked, even though you already knew the answer. "You didn’t want me to go because people from his firm are going to be there, and he could be too, right?"

Jungkook’s jaw clenched, his eyes hardening slightly as he averted your gaze. He didn’t need to say anything. His silence confirmed everything.

You let out a short, bitter laugh, shaking your head. Not only did he keep you away from a party celebrating the one woman you couldn’t stand the most when it came to him, but he also made sure you didn’t go because of the one man he had a problem with the most when it came to you was attending.

"Fucking hypocrite," you muttered, stepping further back from him, your stomach turning in disgust.

"Baby, it’s not like that—" he started, his tone filled with urgency.

"Then what is it like, Jungkook?" Your voice rose again, frustration spilling out as you threw your hands up. "You didn’t tell me about the party because you knew it would piss me off that it’s for Heejin. But you also didn’t want me to go because there was a chance Hyungwon could be there! So, what? I can’t go because you have a problem, but I’m supposed to sit at home and wait for you like a fucking housewife while you go to a party for a bitch that you know I can’t stand? How the fuck does that make sense?"

Jungkook’s face was a mixture of guilt and frustration. He took a step toward you, but you held up your hand again, stopping him in his tracks.

"God, can you just go away?" you spat, your voice trembling slightly as you felt the tears begin to well up again. Shaking your head, you started to walk away.

"Baby," Jungkook grunted, his frustration growing as he followed you.

"No, Jungkook. I need space. Seriously." You didn’t even turn around, your voice sharp as you neared your office.

"We don’t do space. That’s not how we work," he argued, right behind you.

"Well, maybe we need to start doing space," you snapped, reaching for the door handle.

Before you could pull the door open, Jungkook grabbed your wrist, spinning you around to face him. His eyes were intense, wild, like he was barely keeping himself together. "If you keep walking away from me, I'm going to follow you into that conference room and make you sit in my fucking lap during your entire presentation."

The seriousness in his voice made you want to roll your eyes, but you kept your expression blank, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched when you didn’t answer, but he didn’t stop. "I can’t have you two in the same room, Y/N." His voice was low, almost dangerous, as if just saying Hyungwon’s name triggered something in him.

You just blinked, still silent.

“If I see him anywhere near you, I’ll kill him.” Jungkook said it simply, like it was just another fact. “I wouldn’t regret it. But they probably won’t let you stay in my cell with me, would they, baby?” His brows furrowed, head tilting as he asked, like he was genuinely curious to know the answer.

a/n i cut it here because the rest is nawttt edited at all and very rough 😬 but any takers on a part 3 ??!!?! just give me 6 months and it's all yours xx

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, he calls himself daddy, voyeurism, dirty talk, masturbation, knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names. NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

--------------------------

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[redflagshipwriter]

Snitches the cat and his favorite bat

I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.

EDIT

The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!

Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.

Word count is 1053.

Tumblr reference

masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics

“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”

“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”

Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.

Wait, what?

“You fucked this up.”

His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?

He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.

“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.

The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”

He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.

“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.

Uh- what now?

Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!

‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.

He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!

The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.

“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!

“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”

Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!

The window burst in.

Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-

Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.

Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-

He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.

“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”

Danny loved him.

The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.

Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.

Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.

“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”

“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.

The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”

“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”

Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.

“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.

“Not that fugly thing.”

Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.

“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”

“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.

That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.

“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.

He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.

Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?

“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”

The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”

Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”

That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”

Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!

Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”

“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.

Robin and Danny both growled that time.

[wheresarizona]

Columba 

summary: It isn’t until you’re in his home that you learn it’s General Marcus Acacius who’s summoned you for your services—you’re not sure why he did, when the other courtesans standing beside you, hoping to be chosen by him, have bodies that look nothing like yours.

pairing: Marcus Acacius/Plus Size f!reader (Courtesan)

rating: E (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, explicit smut, plus size reader, courtesan reader, age gap (reader is of legal age in today’s standards), takes place pre-Gladiator 2, dommy Marcus Acacius (loves giving orders), he’s a tiny bit possessive, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, rough sex, backshots, woman on top, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, breast worship, hair pulling (m receiving), slight breeding kink, (1) pussy slap, dirty talk, spanking, spit mention, some biting, with hair like that he wants it pulled, some sweetness at the end) 

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: I took one look at Marcus’ hair and immediately thought, that guy likes his hair pulled. I also decided that since he spends weeks to months with a bunch of men at a time, when he comes home, he really appreciates a curvy woman. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything for him until I saw the movie, but the trailer got me. This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

It was the marble bust atop a pedestal that revealed whose home you were in. The opulence of the domus’ atrium, with its four tall marble columns surrounding the impluvium's shallow, sunken pool in the middle of the room and the compluvium’s opening in the ceiling above it, allowing the moon’s light to filter in, told you whoever lived here had notoriety—then you saw the face carved out of stone, recognizing the curls and strong nose you'd only ever seen as he was paraded past you down the street in honor of his latest victory, and you knew.

General Marcus Acacius is a man feared by many for his ferocity and skills in battle. It's been said Mars, the God of War, blessed his birth, while others believe his bloodline is descended from the God himself. What you know to be true is he's a gifted General that the Emperors and Gods have smiled upon, and in his presence, an intimidating figure you didn't dare look at unless you were addressed.

There are four women standing to your right, all of you younger than him, naked, and courtesans of the highest standard—well-educated and well-versed in politics along with the pleasures of the body—and highly sought out by society's elite. 

Marcus is at the opposite end, silently making his way down the line with what you can only assume is a scrutinizing eye, and you fear there's been a mistake that you're here—the other courtesans are all built similarly with small breasts, flattened stomachs and thinner waists than yours, whereas you’re curvier, and have more meat on your bones, with your bigger chest, soft noticeable belly, and grabbable hips. Clearly, he requested a particular type of woman, and it doesn't appear you're it. Staring down at the tiled floor seems better than seeing the disappointment on his face when he gets to you. 

His sandaled feet come into view as he stands before you, and you can feel his eyes roaming over your bare body—golden snake bracelets coil around each of your upper arms, and at the unexpected gentle touch of his fingertips to one, you flinch. 

"Do I frighten you?" His voice is a low, deep rasp that shivers down your spine. 

"No, Sir," you answer.

His thumb strokes over the snake's head and along its body. "Why do you flinch?" 

Raising your head, you see he’s wearing a white tunic with a gold pattern lining around his neck, down his arms, and along the hem, a belt securing it at his waist; golden cuffs covered his wrists. You’re met with dark eyes, a furrow crinkling between his eyebrows—his brown hair with a kiss of gray, curls like waves on his head, his facial hair dotted with a few silvery strands. It takes you a second to answer his question because the glimpses of him you caught during victory parades and the marble bust didn't prepare you for his beauty. 

Mars and Venus have bestowed their blessings upon him. 

“My apologies, Sir,” you finally reply. “It was simply surprise at being graced by your touch.” His expression is difficult to read, so you continue speaking, “I’ve heard of your prowess in battle that inspires songs and how your enemies tremble before you, but I do not believe I have reason to fear you—unless that is something you wish. Do you wish for me to be frightened of you?” 

Some men liked it if you acted afraid of them to feel powerful. Some men, usually the big, tough ones, liked to bury their faces in your bosom while you held them. The slight show of relief on Marcus’ face when you said you had no reason to fear him made you suspect he’d be in the latter category. 

“No.” His eyes are locked onto yours. “I do not need another to fear me. I wish for you to want my touch.” 

“I wish for more than your touch,” you reply. “I wish to feel your lips on mine and your weight on top of me, I wish to feel your cock inside me and to hear the sounds you make when you peak, and I do wish for your touch; I wish to feel your hands claim my body as yours.” 

His gaze turns to one of desire, and it makes you smile. 

"You," he says. "Stay. The rest of you,” he announces, keeping his eyes on yours, “leave us.”

The invitation the messenger brought to your home the day prior did not state who requested your services; it simply said the person was a public figure, and the woman picked would be paid handsomely.

The servants, who stood as still as statues against a wall, scurried to assist each of the other women with redressing.

"Come," he orders, offering you a hand you accept. He leads you to a room you realize is his personal quarters when you spot his armor in a corner, Medusa's golden head on the cuirass shining in the candlelight—she wards off evil and offers protection. There's a bed against the wall opposite the door, and he lets go of your hand, slipping off his sandals by the doorway before walking over to a thin table laden with a jug, cups, and a bowl of berries and grapes. 

"Care for some wine?" he asks without looking at you while pouring himself a cup. 

His body is tense, and you’re assuming you’re here to help him relax—he arrived home only days ago from war, and you got a chance to see him rolling down the street on a chariot as he waved to the cheering masses. It would make sense that he could use somebody with your expertise to get him to unwind. 

“No, thank you, Sir,” you answer, and he faces you again, taking a drink. “It’s a great honor that you chose me, and I do not wish to forget a single moment.” 

His cup lowers, and you're surprised to find he’s wearing a little smile. He twists to set his wine down next to the jug, and removes the cuffs from his wrists, setting them onto the table then his eyes are on yours. 

"Marcus," he says, and it only takes a few strides to have him in front of you again. 

"I'm sorry?" you ask.

His attention moves to your body, and he’s not looking upon you like an object or something he’s just purchased as most men do; his gaze is appreciative, the same kind of look you could imagine was on his face when he stared at art that pleased him. Your figure isn’t the ideal for most Roman women—your hips are too wide, your breasts are too large, your ass is too big, your thighs are too thick, and your stomach is too noticeable—yet, there are many men who sought you out and paid well for your time, and it seems the General is one of them. 

"My name." He walks around you, his fingers sliding along your upper back from shoulder to shoulder. “Call me Marcus. I want you to be familiar with how my name tastes on your tongue.” 

The touch and his words cause your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"Marcus,” you say. 

He’s in front of you again, his darkened eyes on yours. His big hands grip your waist, pulling you into him, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale deeply. “Gods, you’re the best thing I’ve smelled in months.” The words are said against your flesh. “Like a meadow of flowers in Spring, and I fail to remember the last time I felt such softness.” He squeezes the fleshy handles at your hips and goes lower to grab handfuls of your ass, then runs his hands up your back. “Upon hearing your description,” he says, “I knew you’d be perfect, but what I imagined has no comparison to seeing your beauty with my own eyes.” His admission catches you off guard as it sounds as though he always intended to pick you from the line of women. It’s curious that he even invited the others if his mind had been set beforehand. He straightens, meeting your gaze. “Take off my clothes.” 

There's no need to reply; you just do as he ordered, getting his belt undone, the leather falling to the floor, then pulling his tunic over his head, it meeting the same fate as his belt. 

He’s completely nude, standing at his full height before you. 

You expected the scars etched all over his body, the evidence that he'd lay down his life for Rome without hesitation. There's a long, jagged one across his right pec, silvered with age, that has you forgetting yourself and softly pressing your fingertips to it.

He snatches your smaller hand, pulling it away from his marred skin. 

"My apologies," you quickly say, bowing your head in submission. "I shouldn't have touched you without permission." 

"You may touch me." Once again, he surprises you by putting the flat of your palm against the scar, his other hand grabbing your chin to lift your face. 

From his reaction to your fingers on him, you think he hasn’t been with a woman in quite some time, and you hope you can make up for all the nights he spent alone. 

It seems he's done with the pleasantries when his lips crush into yours. It's all of the encouragement you need, kissing him back while rubbing your palms up his broad chest, feeling his warmth. You snake a hand down his stomach through the trail of hair low on his belly to take his half-hard cock into your hand—he groans and twitches in your hold.

He truly has the Gods' favor—a talented General, handsome and well-endowed. 

With his hands on your waist, he walks you backward to the bed, laying you on the mattress. He's on top of you, deepening the kiss with his tongue pressing into your mouth, his hand palming your tit, making you wet with arousal and your body heat. 

It's fascinating how he's defying all of your expectations. The men who seek you out after spending months fighting are often rough and brutish, using you however they want to release their tension. There's never kissing or offers of drink; it's orders to suck their cocks, or to get on the bed in their desired position—and here's Marcus kissing down your body, along the skin of your neck to your chest. Most of his weight is on his knees between your legs while bending forward over you, and the only word you can think of to describe it is he's worshipping your breasts. He has them in his hands, moving from one to the other, licking, sucking, and nibbling on your nipples and soft skin, the sensations making your pussy weep with need. 

“Gods, Marcus,” you moan. He has you squirming with how good it feels, your fingers pushing into his curls. He takes a pebbled bud between his teeth and gently tugs. “Oh,” you gasp, your hands tightening in the tousled waves on his head.

He releases your nipple. “Harder,” he rasps, then flicks his tongue against your stiff peak, and you do as requested, pulling his hair harder. A loud groan rumbles from his chest as he continues laving at your tits, skimming his hand down your stomach, your skin tingling under his fingertips, until he’s sliding two fingers through your wet slit. You tighten your hold on his head, your toes curling when he starts rubbing your clit, and the realization hits that he intends for you to have just as much enjoyment as him. 

"Marcus," you whine.

He’s one of those men who has you praying that he’ll wish for your company again, and you wouldn’t even make him pay if you got another chance to warm his bed. 

The push of his thick digit into your pussy makes your breath hitch at the slight stretch, his thumb pressing to your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving side to side—you know he’s going to make you come, and you silently thank the Gods.

His finger is pushing in and out of you, his thumb continuing its movements, and he lifts his face to look you in the eyes, his own are so black there’s hardly a sliver of brown remaining. "Come for me," he commands, slipping a second digit inside you—you’re so wet you can hear the slick slide of his fingers pumping into you. The muscles in your belly are tightening, and the fire in your core is building. "Come for me, sweet girl." His head dips to lightly bite your nipple before soothing it with his tongue. "Once you come, I'll do as you wish and sheath my cock into this perfect cunt." 

The hot heat of his mouth envelops your pebbled bud, and he sucks—it's your undoing; your eyes close as you fall over the edge, coming with a moan of his name. His digits and mouth continue to extend your ecstasy while your chest heaves with labored breaths and your heart pounds. 

He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hand sliding from your pussy, up your stomach, leaving a trail of your release on your skin. His voice deepens, “You’ve done well for me, and I keep my word—turn over.” 

He helps you to roll onto your front, and you get up onto your hands and knees—a familiar position. He takes a moment to admire you in front of him, his palms feeling the thickness of your thighs and hips. His fingers dig into your plump asscheeks as he spreads them and dips his head, hearing and feeling him spit between them, the hot saliva dripping from your asshole down to your opening. He shuffles up behind you, sliding his cock through the wetness of your come and his spit to lubricate himself, then notches it at your entrance—you both moan as he slowly starts feeding himself into you. 

Gods, he’s big. 

There’s a slight burn with how he’s stretching you, your inner walls having to accommodate his ample girth, and once he’s pressed all the way to the root inside you, a breath leaves you that you hadn't realized you'd been holding in. 

He has a tight grip on your waist and pulls out almost all the way, immediately pushing back into you hard enough there's a clap when his hips hit your ass. This was expected, Marcus setting up a rhythm that punches the air from your lungs each time he thrusts forward—he’s working out what he doesn’t wish to feel, and with how slippery it is between your legs, he's moving easily, and the brutal pace feels amazing. 

Many times, you’ve had to fake your enjoyment to make those employing you think they’re talented lovers—the majority are selfish in bed and care little about your comfort but want their egos stroked. Marcus, on the other hand, earned your favor when he took the time to ready you with his fingers and allowed you to climax. 

He's pounding into you, the collide of his body against yours making your asscheeks shake, and with how his cock is pressing into something truly divine, he’s also earned your screams of his name and whatever incoherent words are babbling from your mouth—he has you dizzy with pleasure, heat coiling in your belly, and there’s no doubting the Goddess of Beauty and Sex has given him her blessing. 

Sounds are spilling unbidden from your lips, Marcus loudly grunting with each stroke, the wet slap of skin hitting skin echoing in the room, and you look over your shoulder—the candlelight around the room shows the glisten of sweat on his golden skin. His head is thrown back, his eyes closed, and his jaw slack. Hair is sticking to his forehead, and a beautiful rosy flush has begun on his chest, rising up his neck to paint his cheeks. You can't think of another you've laid with who looked so breathtaking while taking their pleasure, and you could only imagine how glorious he’d look on the battlefield. You don't know what comes over you, reaching your hand back to touch his hip, and suddenly, he’s looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust. 

It’s as though he’s been in a trance, losing himself in your body, and now he’s come back to be in the moment with you. He falls forward, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you, blanketing your back and slowing his pace. His chin is on your shoulder, and he bites the shell of your ear; all of his weight goes onto one arm to free up the other that roughly grabs your breast and plucks at your nipple.

“You take me so well,” he says into your ear, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you. “Your sweet little cunt will milk me dry, and then I’ll have you again and again after that to keep you full of my seed.” 

His words steal a moan from your lips. 

“Does that please you, my sweet girl?” he asks. “You wish for more of me? Has another ever fucked you so good?” He gets his hand between your legs to circle the pearl of your pleasure, and your jaw drops, eyes closing—he’s going to make you come again. “Answer me,” he growls, lightly slapping your clit, and you clench around him. 

It’s challenging to think, but you say, “No,” and push your ass back against him as he thrusts forward, fucking yourself on him to get closer and closer to your end. “I’ve never had such fortune.” 

“You do now—by morning, I’ll have you ruined for any other man, and your cunt won’t soon forget the shape of my cock.” 

He means every word that slips from his tongue, and it sets the fire in your belly ablaze. You’re holding yourself up on shaky limbs, the muscles in your stomach knotting up—you’re close.

“Marcus,” you moan. 

His warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks into it: “I love how my name sounds from your lips. I know you’re close. Give in so I can feel you ascend to the heavens.” 

His words, the fullness of his thick shaft moving in and out of you, and his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle at the apex of your thighs has you shattering—stars burst behind your eyelids as white-hot pleasure erupts in your center, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough he slows to a stop, and groans in your ear.

You exhale panted breaths, your heart beating rapidly, and the blissful euphoria ripples through your body, slowly ebbing away. 

Somehow, you find your voice, "Allow me to ride you." 

He kisses your shoulder, his beard scratching against your bare skin. "You want to mount me?" he asks. 

"Yes."

"Then you shall." 

He pulls out of you, an achy groan leaving him as he lies beside you on his back, and you get up onto your knees. He draws your attention with how he’s splayed out on the mattress, his long legs slightly spread and arms crossed over his head. His cock is still hard, it shiny with your juices, and resting against his lower belly, cushioned by the tantalizing path of hair that led directly to it—and he’s looking up at you, his eyes dark with want that keep lowering to your bosom, and back up to your eye line, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, that you suddenly wish to bite. 

There’s the common knowledge about Marcus all of Rome is aware of—the family he comes from and the military achievements that have led to him being the victorious General the Gods have blessed the city with, and now you’re versed in his more private attributes—he likes his women to be sturdy with sizeable breasts, he enjoys the pleasurable pain of his hair pulled, he’s a generous lover, he prefers to be in control unless you can tempt him enough to hand over the reins. It’s quite tempting for him to lie back and watch your tits bounce as you ride him. 

Shuffling in place to face him, taking his hard length in hand—he didn’t ask, and you didn’t offer, yet you want to take care of him like he took care of you, so you scoot back enough that you can bend down at the waist, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.

The sound of Marcus’ loud moan and the way his back arches as if it were the string of a bow shoots straight to your cunt—you can taste the mix of your essence and his arousal that’s steadily dribbling from the sensitive head that you lick and suckle; your hand easily stroking up and down the sheath of skin on his shaft. The muscles in his thighs and stomach have tensed like it’s taking everything in him to hold back and not fill your mouth with his come.

“Enough,” he grits the order through his teeth, and his palm lands on the side of your ass with a hard slap that echoes against the walls, the sharp sting getting a moan out of you—your head lifts off of him to see he’s scowling. “I’m not spilling down your throat,” he continues and smacks your ass again. “Ride me, or I’ll have you under me.” 

“Apologies, Marcus,” you reply demurely and sit up on your knees once more. Quickly, you move, throwing a leg over his waist to have your thick thighs hugging his hips. You rise, grabbing his cock, you press to your entrance, and you watch his face as you slowly start to impale yourself on him, relishing in how his mouth falls open and the tight grip he has on the meat of your thighs, his fingers digging into them hard enough it bordered on painful. 

The fullness is incredible when you sit flush against him, and you love how he fills you. Your palms find purchase on his broad chest, and you rise until only the tip of him remains inside of you, and you drop back down—the rhythm you set has you moving in his lap, up and down in quick succession, Marcus groaning, his eyes locked on the jiggle of your breasts. 

Sweat forms on your skin, feeling it on your forehead and a single drop sliding down your spine, your eyes closed as you focus, your moans stuttering each time you sink onto him. 

His hands are resting on your backside, rising and falling with you, his voice rough with pleasure, “That’s it, ride me, bounce on my cock.”

This isn’t about you, and though it feels good riding him, your goal is helping him achieve his own high, and you’re determined to do so—your hands leave him to press your tits together, and you gasp in surprise when he sits up and shoves his face into them. Your pace doesn’t waver, and you look at him to see he’s keeping himself up with an arm braced on the bed behind him, the other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, and you know he’s not going to last much longer. 

Your fingers slide into the unruly curls at the back of his head, and you yank them hard to make him look at you, Marcus hissing while his cock twitches inside you. In this position, you’re taller, and he gazes up to meet your eyes. 

“I want you to come,” you pant, continuing to fuck yourself on him. “I want to feel you flood my cunt with your seed.” The noise he makes sounds like a whine. “Then I want you to do it again, and again after that—I want you to fill me to the point I’m brimming with you, and you’re in me for days.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans out a long, drawn-out Fuck

With his beautiful neck on display, you duck your head and lick up the taut skin of his throat, wishing you could suck a mark into it to remind him of you for a while after you part ways. His free hand roughly grabs your chin to pull you close enough for him to slot his lips against yours, and you have to slow to a grind as he messily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. 

He breaks away to fall back onto the mattress, his fingers getting a tight grip on your ass, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you enough to start thrusting up into your soaked pussy rapidly—he’s grunting while baring his teeth to chase his high, and all you can do is press your palms to his chest for balance while keeping yourself raised enough for him to pound into you. 

The slick push and pull of him, moving in and out of you, has you chanting his name, and it sounds wet between your legs, hearing the clap of skin on skin of him plowing into you. Perspiration makes his tan flesh glint under the candle's light, his hair is a mess atop his head, and his expression is wild; it’s no surprise when his strokes get uneven and his eyes close. Marcus tugs your ass down to bury himself as far as possible in you as he gives in, coming with a guttural groan—you feel his cock jerk and the wet pulse as he paints your insides with spurts and spurts of his spend, wringing himself out until his body goes completely lax.

He pulls you forward to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, and turns you both onto your sides. There’s a hiss that slips from his lips when he removes his softening length from your cunt, and you smile at Marcus sliding down the bed far enough for his face to nuzzle in your bosom while hugging you tight. Your fingers stroke through his sweat-damp curls, his hums of appreciation sounding like the purr of a cat. 

Minutes pass in silence as your breaths even out and your hearts slow. After some time, he says something you can’t make out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” you reply. 

His head lifts, and he kisses under your chin. “Stay,” he says again. 

“I have no intention of leaving. I’m here until you send me away.” 

“And if I don’t wish to send you away?” 

His lips trail along your jaw. 

Your eyebrows pull together. “As I said, I’m here until you request my leave.” 

“And if I never request your leave?” 

He’s kissing your neck now, the question making your eyes round. “You intend for me to be your mistress?” 

It’s not uncommon for a courtesan to become one’s mistress. Some of you are from families of wealth and do this line of work for the powerful connections, while others are freedwomen who’ve worked their way up to earn their notoriety—either case, courtesans are respected and thought to make great mistresses. 

“That is all I can offer since I have no plans to marry,” he answers. “You can stay here with or without me when I’m ordered away, and whatever is left of my salary and spoils of war after the household debts are paid, you may keep.”

He makes you frown. 

“Why me?”

Marcus gets his arm out from under you and scoots up the mattress to look you in the eyes. 

“You’re everything I desire in a woman with your beauty and intellect, and you can sate my needs in bed—you’re perfect, and I want you all to myself. I do not wish to share you with anyone else.”

It’s in this moment you realize you’re the one in control here—you don’t need him, you’re self-sufficient, and there are many who’d eagerly take his place, but your looks are rare in your profession, and he needs his deal to be enticing enough for you to take it. 

“What if I decline your offer?” 

“Then I pray you’ll allow me to keep your company until I receive my next orders.” 

He seems to be a good, honorable man who wants to please you, and he had you tempted to accept on the merit of his skills in bed alone—there’s just something that won’t leave your mind. 

“Before I make my decision, answer this question: if you believe me to be so perfect, why were the others here?” 

He presses his large palm to your cheek. “It was in your power to deny me your company, and though the other women weren’t of my tastes, they were better than nothing.” 

You see no flaws in his answer. 

“I accept your offer on one condition.”

“And that is?”

You no longer find him intimidating, and you’re now comfortable brushing errant hairs off his forehead and sliding your fingers through the curls above his ears. 

Your eyes lock onto his. “You return home to me,” you tell him. “You fight with the might of Mars, and you always return home to me.” 

That earns you a small smile, and he takes your hand into his, kissing the center of your palm. 

“I will, my Dove.” 

Masterlist

Thank you for reading! If you’d like to be tagged in my fics, please fill out the form in my bio, on my masterlist, or just let me know!

[jasmines-library]

Hey, I love your Batfam work! Is there any chance you could do a whump/angst one of batsis being kidnapped by a villian(you can choose whoever you want) and she’s tortured for days with it being broadcasted to the Batfam while they try to track the footage. I feel kinda bad but can you do maybe some head trauma md severe burns? Maybe she has to be put in a medically included coma or smth because of the damage? Also is there any way you could include Barb and Duke along w/ the four robins? If not that’s totally cool! Sorry for the long request but I hope you have a great day!!

Anonymous Requested: batfam x batsib reader whos the youngest and newest robin and is just really goofy and doesn’t take anything seriously (ex: them blaring “who’s the (bat)man” on the comms during patrol [that songs stuck in my head i had to mention it]) and something happens, maybe their first close encounter to death or a run in with the joker and they just become a shell of who they were and stuff

Jokes On Me

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Note: My god im so sorry this literally took me forever to write, thank you so much for being patient. I've been trying to write this all week but just couldn't sit down for long enough to finish it.

Warnings: Torture, blood, burns.

Word Count: 2.5k

⛧ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

“Y/N, turn that shit off.”

Jason grumbled at you over the coms. You had been blasting some wretched song that you’d found on the internet over and over again and it was beginning to drive him mad. 

“Nope.” You said, popping the ‘p’ loudly. 

“Seriously.” Dick deadpanned. He had found it amusing at first, but it was now beginning to test his patience. 

Agitated, you sighed and turned off the music. “Fine.”

“Thank you.” Jason expressed gratefully, turning his eyes back to the road he was patrolling. The night was cool and quiet besides the odd dog walker or couple returning from an evening out. It was one of those nights where patrol would end early and he could return home to take a warm bath and read a book before turning in for the night. Or so he thought. 

You were rounding the corner, humming that tune that was still stuck in your head when his laughter ricocheted across the walls. You stiffened, eyes widening and hands fumbling for your weapon as your breath hitched. No amount of turning and craning your head allowed you to catch a glimpse of the dreaded figure, and you thought for a moment that perhaps it had just been a trick of your mind, or one of your brothers playing a cruel joke on you as payback for winding them up earlier. But then you heard it again, only this time to your left. You clutched your weapon tighter, eyes scanning the area with a new found sense of urgency. 

“Wing…” You whispered into the coms so quietly that you were surprised he heard it.

“What now?” He somewhat snapped. 

“We have a problem.”

Dick’s heart sank through the floor, his ears pricking up and his demeanour changing completely. “Where are you? What’s the matter? He was trying to let his panic show, but you hadn’t been patrolling as a vigilante for very long, and while you were well trained, you lacked the experience to deal with something big on your own. And from your tone of voice, he could tell that you were in some deep shit. 

Jason worked his legs harder to push himself to reach the direction he had seen you head off in. Albeit it seemed even his hardest wasn’t enough.

When he stepped out of the darkness, the first thing you noticed were his eyes. Wide and bright, easily mistakable for a cat’s as they flashed in the darkness; wild. Rabid. As he emerged fully with that infamous twisted grin splayed out on his face, you felt like a cornered animal; a deer in headlights. You froze, unable to move despite how your heart screamed at you to run as it pounded, trying to break free from your ribcage. 

“He’s here…” A mere whisper sliding over your tongue, so fragile that you weren’t even sure if you had actually said it aloud. Jason had heard it. 

“Who?” 

The Joker was circling you now, dragging out his strides in lazy circles. You should have fought but in that moment all of your training had drained out of you, along with the colour in your face. He smirked, leering down upon you as you tried to keep your trembling hand still. He pouted in mockery and at your silence, Jason repeated his question to you, but you never got the chance to respond. 

“Oh…Just an old friend, Jay-bird.”

“Joker.” Urging his body to move faster, Jason grit his teeth. 

Dick paled. “You leave them alone.” Dick spat. It tried to be a command, but the effect was lost somewhere in transmission.

The joker pursed his lips, tilting his head as he analysed. One of his hands had found his way to your jawline and he trailed it with a cold, gloved hand. You wanted to lean away, to run and find your brother but you knew that now he had you in his grasp there was no point in even trying. “And why would I do that? They’re right in front of me. I could just…snatch them up.”

“Don’t you dare!” Dick was frightened now. “Y/N, you stay there as long as you can, okay? You fight. We’re coming, you hear?”

The Joker frowned at you. “D’you hear that? Big brother birdy coming to the rescue. How sweet.”

His grip on you tightened. “Too bad you’ll be long gone by the time they get here.”

With one swift motion, he had thrown you harshly to the side, your head colliding with the wall with a sickening crack. 

The two boys skidded to a halt just a second too late. You were already gone. 

~

Your head hurt when you woke up. Your eyes squinted against the sterile light. They did no favours to your pounding headache. With a groan, you tried to twist, to roll over and soothe the crook in your neck but instead all that happened was the jinging of a metal chain. You craned your head and spotted the thick chain that had been wrapped around your wrist, confining you to the chair. Struggling, you tugged on them, trying to free yourself only for them to rattle and scrape against your skin. 

“Yeah, that’s not going anywhere, birdy.” The joker chided.

You glared at him through narrowed eyes, trying to mask the thumping of your heart. The joker grinned wildly at your frightened complexion. 

“It was such a shame that Grayson and Todd didn’t get to you in time, but it was far too easy to catch you, little bird: you completely froze.” He snapped his fingers to emphasise his point. “Didn’t batsy teach you better?”

“Don’t talk about them.” You snapped. 

The joker raised his hands, palms facing toward you in surrender: taunting you as if you were the one with the power in the situation. “Touchy subject I see. Too bad.” 

He gestured above you to an incessantly blinking light. “Smile for the camera, you’re live.”

~

Babs had been monitoring the street cameras when the computer beside her flickered to life. She had been searching for any sign of you ever since Dick and Jason came flying through the grandfather clock. Everyone was on edge. 

The moment the screen flashed on, her eyes perked up to watch it, alarmed. She hadn’t turned it on. And there were very few people who could bypass the caves system. So when she saw a small frame curled up in a chair she knew immediately what was up. 

“Duke…” she called to the dark haired boy who was trying to help decipher your whereabouts. “Go and get B.” 

It did not take long at all for everyone to gather around in the cave. Duke was fast, and everyone dropped what they were doing to race down: even Alfred had taken his leave from his duties to see. 

It was almost like some sick irony because as soon as they were all there, you began to scream. A guttering, perfect scream that cut that through them like a knife: unclean and pinging into them messily again and again. 

The joker had taken a knife to your left thigh, his smile dripping with malice as he watched the camera, somehow knowing that at least one of them would be watching. 

Your face was contorted in pain, twisting in agony as tears rolled flatly down your cheeks from fearful eyes. Damian felt sick, his stomach churning. Jason wanted to leave. But all of them were stuck watching. Barbra was tapping away, trying to locate the signal from the video to no avail. 

“I hope you’re watching this Batsy…” He moved round to trail your face with the edge of the knife. You whimpered. “I’ve got your little bird here and I must say, you need to work on their training. They were far too easy to catch.”

Bruce felt his jaw tightening and Tim had to place a hand on his arm to remind him of his place. 

“Anyway I thought we would play a little game… how long can little y/n survive for. I wonder if it’ll be any longer than our very own Jason Todd.”

Jason twitched. 

“I’m testing you here, Bat. Tick Tock.”

The transmission cut to black. 

~

It seemed hopeless. Even though they had been searching for days, they were no closer to finding you. And to make matters worse, they could see you. Not long after the first transition ended did it start up again. It had been lifestreaming since then, and although they had tried to block it from their minds, it was hard to ignore. Especially when your agonised screams ricocheted throughout the halls. 

You looked like hell. Dark bags occluded under your eyes and there wasn’t an inch of your skin that wasn’t marred or stained with drying blood. The burns were worse. Damian could still hear the scream you let out when the joker first brought the hot poker to your skin. It had bubbled and blistered as the skin peeled away; you had thrashed against your restraints violently. Tim was certain that they were going to get infected if they didn’t reach you soon. 

It felt as if they had searched everywhere. Dick and Jason had even asked around to see if anyone had heard anything, going as far to talk to the Jokers closest associates in Arkham, but even if they did know, nobody said anything. Duke had even gone as far to go back to the area to use his powers to see if he could trace anything, but nothing seemed out of place; they had hit a brick wall. That was…until a small light appeared on the monitor. Babs had managed to trace the signal to a small building on the outskirts of the city. 

They were suited up in minutes, making a beeline for the building. They stormed it, recklessly taking down the Joker's goons before Batman chased wildly after the Joker, his face stony and his fists burning with anger. The other four boys chased down the winding corridors, flinging open the doors until they found one that was locked. Tim wasted no time, picking the lock with ease he peeled it open. His breath hitched when he saw you. 

Your face was gaunt, hanging low by your chest. Your suit was torn and there was less of it on your body than there was ripped away. You looked so fragile as your chest heaved sporadically. 

Jason nearly had to take a step back. This place reminded himself too much of his own encounter with the Joker not too long ago. But he pressed forward, fighting his instincts. He had to be strong. Instead of turning back, he kneeled in front of you, whispering your name. His hand came up to cup your face. You flinched away. 

“It’s okay kid. It’s us.” He tried to reassure you, but you shrank back into yourself. 

“We’re so, so sorry kiddo.” Dick tried placing a gentle hand on your arm before moving to work on the cuffs around your wrists. “We’re going to get you out.”

You said nothing, just continued to stare at the black space before you, and Dami wasn’t sure if you even knew they were in front of you. But when Jason moved away from you to help remove your restraints, your fingers latched onto him and you squeaked in protest. 

He sighed shakily. “Don’t worry kid. I’m not going anywhere.”

Damian twisted from where he was guarding the door. “We need to leave.”

Dick nodded bluntly, finishing with the last of the locks. “I’m going to have to pick you up, okay sweetheart?”

You barely registered what he had said. Everything had grown numb, you nodded anyhow. Moving his arms underneath your legs and slipping one arm behind your back, Jason began to lift you. He nearly recoiled when you cried and whimpered with the way your wounds jostled as he sprinted out of the building to get you back to safety. 

~

You were yet to say anything since you came home. You had been back a few days and your wounds were healing up nicely thanks to Alfred’s handywork, but the air was eerily silent around you. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t been communicating with them; you spoke to them with gestures or writing but no one was used to not hearing your voice. The stark contrast between your loud and bustling personality and you now was unsettling. No one wanted to push you too far but the manor was beginning to grow lonely. 

It was one particularly rainy night when you finally spoke.  You were curled up in a large armchair by the window in the library, sinking back into the plush leather as you watched the raindrops race down the glass. Jason had been watching you from afar, contemplating whether to talk to you or not when he walked over. 

“What are you up to?” He asked you, making sure you knew that he was there before he spoke. 

You gestured toward the window,then to the half opened book at your feet and shrugged. 

“I see.” He nodded, taking a seat on the armchair opposite you. A comfortable silence settled between the two of you. Jason wasn’t much of a talker. He knew more than anyone what you were going through, which was why it was nice just to know that he was willing to sit with you, just so you knew that he was there if you needed him. It made you feel safe. But you also couldn’t help but feel guilty, and frustrated with yourself for being in a place that made him feel as though he had to do that. 

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. 

Jason had to do a second take. His heart swelled. “What for?”

You sighed. “This. When I saw him…i-i froze. If I had run then this would never have happened.”

“Shh. This isn’t your fault.”

“But-”

“I promise, Kid. You’ve done nothing wrong.”

You nodded, looking away from him. But then you furrowed your brows and turned back to him. “How did you do it? How did you deal with this, Jay? Every time I close my eyes he’s there.”

“I guess I don’t, really. Or sometimes it feels like I don’t. I still get scared sometimes. I still see him in my dreams. But over time it gets easier. I had people around me to help me. And so do you, kid. We’re here. We’ll always be here.”

Jason shifted to brush away a rogue tear and you leaned into his touch and then wrapped your arms tightly around his middle. 

“I’m here. Always. We’ll get through this together.”

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

BATFAM TAGS

@aestheticdaisies @hearts4robs @xxrougefangxx @mamapucket @hell-o-kittys @harleycao @batfamsstuff @alicedawitchbish

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

[slu7formen]

So I got this from a book but a truth and dare game with Luke where she has to lick whip cream of him. You can do whatever you want with this prompt but like a smut could be nice.

MDNI. luke castellan x fem!reader

this single request itself made me wanna try it, love you <3

warnings: teasing, kissing, s3xual tension, food play, drinking, oral (f receiving), mutual m4sturbation, unprotected s3x, possessive!luke at times, biting, f1ngering, chocking, also this is SO LONG, I’M SORRY

reminder: english’s not my first language so I apologize for any spelling mistakes.

₊˚⊹♡

The flickering firelight cast dancing shadows on the faces gathered around the hidden clearing. You all had managed to sneak away from the watchful eyes of Chiron and Mr. D for a game night in the woods. The air buzzed with the energy of a rebellion and contagious laughter – a night of games for the older campers, fueled by salty and sweet snacks and stolen alcohol —a sweet thank you to the Hermes’ cabin—. Laughter and playful groans punctuated the evening as truth or dare, with a twist, played out. Two decks sat in the center of the circle – red for dares, blue for truth.

Silena patiently waited as Clarisse read a red card out loud. "Whoever you find most handsome, kiss them" the card declared, "or take a shot." A playful smile spread across Silena´s lips, her gaze lingering for a beat too long on Charles Beckendorf. A blush crept up her neck as the others hooted and hollered.

"Come on, Silena" Connor Stoll, Hermes' resident prankster, prodded her with a playful jab. "Don't be shy, show us who the lucky guy is!"

With a playful toss of her hair, she leaned across the circle, her eyes meeting Beckendorf's for a fleeting moment before landing a quick, chaste kiss on his lips. Beckendorf, caught off guard, sputtered and stammered, his face mirroring Silena's blush. The clearing erupted in cheers and teasing whistles.

The teasing went back and forth, fueling the already lively atmosphere. Next, it was Beckendorf's turn. He scanned the circle, eyes falling on a tall and skinny guy sipping on the last drops of his beer.

“Travis” he called. “Truth or dare?”

Travis, ever the clown, leaned back on his elbows, a confident smirk plastered on his face. "Dare" he replied, popping the r out.

Beckendorf announced the dare after picking up a card: "Take off the socks from the person on your right with your teeth, or take two shots." A collective groan rose from the circle. Lee Fletcher happened to be Travis' unfortunate neighbor.

"Come on, Trav" Luke chimed in, a playful look in his eyes. "Those feet are all fresh and sweaty for ya'." The rest of the group roared with laughter, picturing the image of Travis attempting the sock removal with his teeth.

Travis, with a grimace that contorted his face, finally managed to grab Lee's sock with his teeth and yank it free. He held the sweaty trophy aloft, earning another round of cheers and jeers.

Meanwhile, Luke couldn't help but steal glances at you, sitting next to him. The firelight cast your features in a warm glow, highlighting the soft curve of your lips and the way your hair cascaded down your shoulders like a waterfall. The scent of your perfume, a mix of strawberries and something else he couldn't quite place, filled his senses, making his heart pound a little faster. He found himself captivated by your laugh, the way your lips curved into a smile as you spoke, or the way your brow furrowed in concentration when you contemplated a dare. Sitting next to you felt like being next to a goddess, both exhilarating and intimidating, just like the rest of your sisters; girls from cabin ten.

Wiping a bead of sweat from his brow, Travis scanned the circle, his eyes stopping on you. You met his eyes, a playful sparkle in your own, as if daring him to choose you.

“yn, truth or dare?”

You took a swig of your beer, the cold liquid a welcome contrast to the warmth blooming in your cheeks under his scrutiny. "Dare" you replied, your voice laced with a hint of flirtatious defiance.

A surprised whistle escaped his lips. Clearly, he hadn't expected you to choose the more daring option, you´ve been picking truth all night. He reached for a card from the red deck, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. The silence grew thick as he scanned the card.

A barely audible chuckle escaped his lips as he read the card. "Alright, pretty girl" he began, drawing out the words for dramatic effect, " 'Lick whipped cream out of the person on your left's neck, or take a shot.'"

A collective gasp rippled through the group, followed by teasing comments towards Luke. "Castellan's lucky tonight!" Connor hollered, patting his back. "Looks like you owe cabin ten a thank you, man."

Luke felt his cheeks burning like rubies. He tried to appear confident, as he always was, a casual slouch to his posture, but the rapid thump of his heart betrayed his cool facade.

You just stared at him for a moment, a nervous yet malicious smirk on your lips. You enjoyed the sight of him suddenly all red and flustered, a stark contrast to his usual cool demeanor. He looked as cute as ever. "Well?" Katie asked, shrugging your shoulder playfully. "Whip cream or a shot?"

And how could you resist the dare? A chance for your lips to brush against the warm skin of Luke's neck in a gesture that was more intimate than any game dared to be? The thought sent a shiver down your spine, a delicious mix of excitement and nervousness. Licking the sweet whipped cream off him, feeling the rapid rise and fall of his breath beneath your lips... it was too tempting to pass up, and the possibilities were simply intoxicating.

Ignoring the teasing catcalls and whispers, you turned to Katie with a sly smile. "Where's the whipped cream?" you asked, knowing full well that Silena had brought a large bag of candy, a can of whipped cream nestled amongst the chocolate bars and sour gummies.

Your question erupted into another wave of cheers and whistles. Luke, meanwhile, felt like his insides were about to explode. He felt like a churning cauldron of emotions – nervousness, excitement, a burning desire dancing in his stomach.

Silena tossed the can to you. You caught it in the air, the coldness of the metal a stark contrast to the heat burning in your cheeks. You met Luke's gaze once more.

"Looks like you're about to get a little messy" you declared, getting on your knees now for a better access. With a sweet but weirdly evil smirk, you shook the can, the hiss of the pressurized cream a prelude to the sweet mess you were about to create.

As Luke held your gaze, a slow smile spread across his face. He knew this was a chance, one he couldn't afford to miss. "Alright" he sighed, chest heaving up and down in one hard and heavy movement, his voice rough with suppressed nervousness but laced with an undercoat of confidence. He tilted his head slightly to the left, offering you a better angle, his final invitation. "Do your thing."

The weight of his words, the vulnerability in his gesture, sent a jolt through you. Luke's neck, bathed in the warm glow of the fire, looked impossibly inviting, the smooth skin a stark contrast to the dark fabric of his shirt.

Taking a slight breath, you placed a few dollops of whipped cream on the side of his neck. The coldness sent a jolt through him, making him flinch and hiss lowly. A wave of whispers rippled through the group, a mixture of nervous anticipation and excited curiosity.

Luke caught a glimpse of you from the corner of his eye. You tossed your hair to the side, the movement exposing completely one of your shoulders. In that moment, under the watchful gaze of the fire and their friends, he felt himself going faintly insane with a mixture of desire and nervousness.

You leaned closer, the sweet scent of your perfume filling his senses. As you both closed your eyes at the same time, the air crackled with electricity. Your tongue, soft and warm, darted out with boldness. Pulling down on the collar of his shirt to avoid a mess, your other hand flew to the back of his neck, holding him gently in place.

The gentle rasp of your tongue against his skin sent shivers down his spine. It was a slow, deliberate movement, almost reverent, seductive, as you savored the sweetness of the whipped cream and the warmth of his skin beneath it.

Your actions were hot enough for his cock to start hardening against his cargo pants, painfully. But he has to thank the gods for luckily sitting in a position in which he was covering it.

He pressed his lips together, and apparently, that made his friends laugh. He could hear the soft gasps of your breath as you worked your way around the whipped cream blob, the sound echoing in his ears like a siren's song.

Luke felt like a live wire, every nerve ending tingling with awareness. He couldn't believe what was happening. The gentle touch of your lips made him feel as if a hundred ants walked down his spine, his heart thundering in his chest. He was trying so hard to hold back a moan.

He tried to imagine something else, literally anything, but whenever he tried, the only thing he could picture was you with him in his room, pouring whipped cream all over his neck and just licking, like a cat, as he tilted his head back and you bit down on his pulse, you whispered in his ear, you moaned loudly, you let him touch you.

He was a dead man.

Finally, with a satisfied sigh, you pulled away.

"There" you said, your voice barely a whisper. "All clean"

Luke opened his eyes, his gaze lingering on your lips, cherry lip-gloss long gone, as you finished licking off the last bit of your sweet treat. You met his gaze. Neither of you spoke.

A loud cough from Connor broke the spell. "Well, that was..." he began, searching for the right words, "intense."

“Yeah” Chris joined in, suddenly grabbing Clarisse’s hand and turning to her. “Can we do it?”

The moment was broken, the playful environment resuming its place. A wave of laughter washed over the group when the night took an unexpected turn. Soon, the whipped cream became a must along your friends.

Travis´ eyes landed on a weak Lee. The following minutes were filled with chaos and laughter as Travis chased Lee around the nearby trees, whipped cream can in hand, finally managing to catch him and plant a sloppy glob of cream on his neck. Lee's retaliatory attempt at tickling Travis only resulted in both of them collapsing in a heap of loud laughs.

The game continued, couples forming and reforming with each dare. Beckendorf and Connor, fueled by a rivalry, ended up smearing whipped cream on each other's faces, resulting in a food fight of sorts. Silena and Katie shared a non-stop giggly mess as they licked cream off each other's cheeks.

Even Clarisse, despite her initial resistance, found herself cornered by Chris.

By the time everyone´s face was sticky, exhaustion had settled in. As the fire crackled down to embers, casting long shadows across the clearing, everyone decided it was time to head back to their cabins.

The walk back was filled with drunken stumbling and whispered jokes. Silena and Clarisse, whose tolerance for alcohol was notoriously low, were stumbling back to their cabins, supported by their patient friends.

You walked behind them, a smile playing on your lips as you watched the scene unfold, bag of leftovers snacks swinging on your wrist.

Behind you, Luke admired your figure bathed in the soft moonlight filtering through the trees. Your hips, swaying with each step you took, were basically asking him to be grabbed, to be pulled. So did your hair, bouncing and shining on its on and he wondered what it would feel like to have it wrapped around his hand. His mind couldn't help but flash back to the way your tongue had felt, flat and warm, against his skin. It was a sensation that gave him goosebumps even now, a memory that made his brain feel like melted butter.

He also found no way of getting rid of his boner. His pants were a little baggy, and his friends were drunk, but still, he was just walking around camp, with a boner, and the girl that gave it to him was walking just five feet ahead.

His train of thought was abruptly derailed by a booming voice. "Alright, guys" Beckendorf announced, his voice thick with concern, "I think I'm going to take Silena back to my cabin" he turned his head behind him. “She seems a little too excited, actually” he says, as you all watch Silena´s figure almost falling to the ground as she reaches the Hephaestus cabin.

The others murmured agreement, offering sleepy goodbyes and pats on the back. You joined the chorus, your voice a gentle murmur.

Unlike many of the other campers, whose siblings populated Camp Half-Blood year-round, you were one of the few who stayed all year, along with Silena some months. With the winter season in full swing, your cabin stood empty, the silence broken only by the rustle of leaves and the occasional curious critter.

"You alright?" you heard beside you.

Luke, walking next to you now, seemed to pick up on your quiet contemplation. He cast you a sidelong glance, his face unreadable in the dim light.

You pulled a small smile from the corner of your lips. "Yeah, just-, realizing I have the whole cabin to myself tonight."

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs.

"Well, then" he began, his voice a low rumble, "Want me to walk you there so you don´t go alone?"

A soft chuckle escaped your lips as Luke's offer hung in the air.

"My cabin's not too far away, Luke" you teased, pointing towards a cluster of trees in the distance. A flash of pink peeked through the branches – the lace curtains that adorned the windows. "See? I can practically see it from here. You just really wanna spend more time with me, don't you?"

A faint blush crept up Luke's neck. He wasn't used to being so transparent, especially not around you. He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"Then I guess" he stammered, a hint of amusement dancing in his voice. "that my company is not wanted?"

You couldn't help but laugh, a melodic sound that echoed through the stillness of the night and ringed inside Luke´s ears. Deep down, you knew that was the furthest thing from the truth. The dare had awakened something inside you, a flicker of something warm and exciting burning in your belly. Looking at Luke now, bathed in the cool moonlight, you saw him differently. The way his hair tousled in the gentle breeze, the way his dark eyes held a depth you hadn't noticed before – it all made your stomach twist and tighten.

You placed both hands on the back pockets of your jeans. “When did I say that?” you ask.

A slow smile spread across Luke's face, mirroring your own. He couldn't deny the truth in your words. This playful back and forth shattered a barrier, revealing a connection neither of you had anticipated. His gaze drifted down to your lips for a second.

You noticed. Just as you noticed his hardened dick hidden inside his pants.

As you continued walking, a comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the soft crunch of leaves underfoot. The thought of him, his touch, his nearness, sent a hot wave through your stomach. It wasn't just about his good looks, though you couldn't deny his attractiveness. It was the unexpected intimacy, which was in fact, not so intimate due to your friends’ stares but, it left you with an empty feeling in your chest. It left you wanting more. More about Luke.

And then, it all just made sense.

As you reached the front door of your cabin, you turned around on your feet towards Luke. His eyes were wide and shiny in anticipation, waiting for you to speak. "So," you began, your voice dripping with feigned innocence, "since my company is apparently so delightful, how about you come inside for a bit?"

Luke blinked, surprised by your sudden offer. "Inside?" he echoed.

"You've never even been inside my cabin, have you? Don't you at least a little bit curious about what it looks like?"

You knew your question was a blatant and dirty lie. Luke likely knew the layout of every cabin at Camp Half-Blood, even though it is true that he only took small look from your cabin when the door was open, never fully stepping inside. But it was a way to gauge his interest. You knew how to play.

Luke shifted on his feet, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He wasn't sure if you were serious or just messing with him, but the invitation, whether genuine or not, was tempting. The thought of spending a little more time with you, alone, in the privacy of your cabin, made him think twice.

"Well," he began, his voice rough with well hidden desire, "if you want me to”

The sweet, cloying scent of perfume hit him first, a heady mix of flowers and vanilla that instantly relaxed his nerves. The walls were painted a soft, rosy pink, trimmed with crisp white molding. Pastel blue and green curtains adorned the windows, their gentle hues echoing in the twin beds adorned with pale blue sheets, a stark contrast to the brown bunks of his Hermes cabin.

Instead of the communal sleeping arrangements he was accustomed to, each camper here enjoyed the luxury of their own space. Twin beds stood side-by-side, separated by a blue dresser that boasted a large mirror and neatly organized drawers overflowing with what he could only assume were makeup and beauty products. In the corner, a chest with your name painted in a cheerful font held your personal belongings, and the space above your bed showcased an assortment of pin-ups – Hollywood starts and sultry singers plastered across the wall alongside a few candid photos of your friends, their faces beaming with laughter.

As Luke took in the scene, you walked further into the cabin, the plastic bag of leftover snacks crinkling in your hand. You tossed it onto the bed, rummaging through your chest for a change of clothes.

Suddenly, a small, gushing sound startled you. You looked up to find Luke standing directly in front of your bed, eyes sparkling like a little kid. In his hand, he held the can of leftover whipped cream, a playful white dollop clinging to his finger.

"Really?" you asked, a surprised laugh escaping your lips as you watched him contemplate licking it off. The audacity of the move, the playfulness in his eyes, made your insides twist.

"Don't judge me" he said. "I didn't get to lick it off someone's neck like everyone else did"

Your heart hammered a frantic rhythm against your ribs. His words were a playful accusation, but the way he looked at you, the way his gaze lingered on your lips for a beat too long again, it was more than just whipped cream he craved.

You stood up slowly, a smile playing on your lips. Walking towards him, you stopped just out of reach. "Because you didn't want to" you teased, your voice laced with a hint of playing.

Luke met your gaze, his smile fading into a more serious expression. "Honestly, no, I didn't" he admitted, looking down at you from his taller height. "In front of everyone, I mean."

You tilted your head, a knowing smile gracing your features. "Why not?" you pressed, your voice a gentle murmur.

"I was thinking," he began, you immediately catch up on his nervousness, "that maybe... maybe I could do it privately."

A slow smile spread across your face again. “Privately, huh?" you echoed, your voice a teasing murmur. “Who with?"

He scoffed. “Isn´t is obvious?”

A shiver danced down your spine at his words. You couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through you, the delicious anticipation that hung heavy in the air.

With a playful and exaggerated sigh, you sat on your bed, sinking down onto the soft mattress. You look up at him, resting both of your hands behind you, making yourself as comfortable as possible.

He stared down at you, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a second to sit down next to you, the close proximity making your heart beat just a little louder, and the tip of your fingers sweat. The scent of your perfume, a sweet and intoxicating mix, filled his senses.

"Can I?" he asked.

You simply nodded. “Sure” you say. Every fiber of your being was waiting for him to follow in your footsteps, to recreate the intimate touch of your earlier dare.

Bingo.

You were convinced he was going for the same part of your body that you did on his, but instead, you felt the coolness of his fingertips against your skin as he gently pulled down the collar of your tank top, exposing the delicate curve of your collarbone and the top part of your breast.

A gasp escaped your lips as the coolness of the whipped cream hit your skin. Without missing a beat, Luke took tossed the can aside and, mimicking your earlier action, swiped his tongue across the exposed skin.

The cold sensation of the whipped cream mingled with the warmth of his touch, sending a shiver down your spine. You closed your eyes, savoring the unexpected intimacy of the moment.

His movements were slow and deliberate, his tongue tracing a lazy path across your skin. It was a stark contrast to the playful swipe you'd given him earlier, a wet touch that made both of you realize, very clearly, what this whole thing was about.

A soft moan escaped your lips, barely audible but undeniably present. Luke's breath hitched at the sound, a low growl rumbling deep in his chest.

Suddenly, you felt a sharp nip on your collarbone. Luke had bitten down slightly, the sensation sending a confusing feeling towards your chest.

"Gods, Luke, that's-" you gasped, the word dying on your lips as a wave of pleasure washed over you when his teeth grazed over it again. You didn't even care to finish your sentence, too lost in the whirlwind of emotions his touch ignited.

He chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that vibrated through you. He licked off the last bit of the sweet treat from your skin, mimicking the way you'd cleaned him earlier.

"There" he said, his voice thick with mockery. "All clean."

You stared at him, your eyes glazed over with a desire that mirrored his own. You felt like a wild animal, unleashed and untamed. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your breath coming in ragged gasps from your parted lips. Your collarbone glistened with saliva, a testament to the intimacy you'd just shared.

You couldn't take it anymore.

You smashed your lips against his in a hungry kiss. It was a kiss unlike any you'd ever experienced, raw and desperate, fueled by the tension that had been building between you all night.

Luke, caught off guard for a moment, quickly responded, his kiss turning passionate and possessive. He slipped one hand behind your back, pressing you closer, the other finding its way into your hair, tilting your head for a deeper kiss.

You tangled your fingers in the collar of his shirt, pulling him towards you as you fell onto the bed. He followed willingly, his body hovering over yours. That dare. That fucking dare. It had morphed into something far more intense, a stolen moment of passion that threatened to consume you both.

The taste of whipped cream was there, with the heat of his kiss, a bizarre yet strangely intoxicating combination. Your senses were on fire, your body yearning for more. You reached up, your fingers tracing the planes of his face, memorizing the feel of his strong jawline, the slight stubble that brushed against your skin.

As the kiss deepened, his hand found its way under your shirt, sending a fresh wave of shivers down your spine. You gasped, a mixture of surprise and delight at his touch.

Your response was immediate when he started to graze his fingertips down your spine. You arched your back into his touch, a wordless plea for more. When he reached to your lower back, he grabbed your hip and pulled you impossibly closer to his body.

You felt his boner pocking on your inner thigh. You wondered how many hours he just spent with his dick painfully hardened, because you don’t really remember how many hours have passed since you chose dare as an option.

Your hands were quick to start pulling Luke’s shirt over his head. He only stopped kissing you to fully remove it and toss it to the ground, lips slamming against yours once again. He held a tight and possessive grab at your jaw, he didn’t want to let go of you.

The tip of his fingers trailed down your neck, your collarbone, a slow path down your body and over the fabric until his finger hooked your jeans, using a single had to get rid of the button, and quickly making it disappear along with his shirt.

“Why are you wearing this?” his voice had gone lower, his throat dry. He looked perfect like this, lips glistening with your saliva, hair messy and a finger hooked on the side of your light pink laced thong.

You couldn’t help but roam your eyes down his torso. The many years of training gifted him with a toned and well-worked body. His veins popped out with ease, starting on his biceps and getting more and more noticeable on his hands, manly, big and rough hands. You bit down on your lip for a moment, fingers tracing down his abdomen, he hissed at your cold fingers against his heated skin.

“It’s just my underwear, Luke” you explain. “Don’t like it?”

Instead of answering, the hand that was holding onto your tiny peace of underwear started trailing up your torso, flat against your stomach and all the way up to your sternum. He felt the soft fabric of your bra and gave you a lopsided smile. “I’m just hoping that this is matching”

And he got rid of your tank top. And it was, in fact, a matching set.

Luke couldn’t help but think that maybe you planned it all. Your cute lacy matching set, the empty cabin, the game. His mind started to race, circuits inside his brain working like a machine.

He hovered over your body again, trailing kisses around your neck. You moaned at the first one since he immediately found your sweet spot on the right side of it, goosebumps all the way from your skull to the bottom of your spine. “Was this all-, some plan of yours?” he asked, rushed voice and breaths coming out in gasps as he started to suck on your neck.

You giggled. “No, it wasn’t. But I was hoping for it-, oh” you moaned, pulling on his hair when he released his suck on your skin with a bop, but you felt his fingers trail up your inner thigh, knuckles brushing against your heated core.

“How?” he asked, slow and painfully teasing movements against your panties, occasionally focusing too much on your clit, making you gasp a little louder as you gripped on his bicep.

“I might have read all the cards earlier” you begin. “And I might have asked Silena to get me some whip cream with your cabin. Just in case I got to-, to do it with you. That’s why I wanted you to sit next to me”

Luke chuckled lowly, beads from his necklace tickling the skin on the base of your neck. “So it was a plan”

“No” you shrug off, feeling his lips against your neck again, sucking greedily. “I just, I wanted it. But I wasn’t sure it was gonna happen. I didn’t know this was gonna happen either”

Luke enjoyed so much the way you couldn’t even speak without letting out a moan or two in every sentence. He felt the fabric of your underwater getting wetter by the second. He listened to you and replied with little “hm’s” as if it was a casual conversation; a conversation in which you had him in your bed, almost naked, as he left bruises down your neck and you had his fingers teasing your entrance, hips rolling against his touch.

“You’re evil” he says. But it’s not you who’s touching him so boldly. It’s not you who leaves him wanting more, it’s not you who teases. But him.

So you let your hand make its way to his cargo pants, slipping past them and his boxers, directly going for his cock. A strangled moan escaped his lips, followed by his chest heaving up and down, surprised by your sudden movement. It felt hot against your hand, hot and heavy and you knew, that it was the hardest Luke has even been.

Your cupped hid balls just for a moment before you started to slowly ascent, finally reaching for his tip. Your fingers wrapped around his length and your thumb started torturous circles around his sensitive head. He sucked in his stomach constantly as you touched him, momentarily forgetting about your pleasure, but you enjoyed this a lot more.

“You really don’t want me to be evil, Luke” you say. “I could be evil and just stand up and make you walk to your cabin, or not letting you fuck me. But I’m not, ‘cause I really wanna feel you inside me, Luke. I really want you”

He let out a long and shaky breath full of relief when you started to bob your hand up and down, and that encouraged him to pull your thong aside, fingers teasing at your entrance. Your own breath came shaky as well when a single finger entered you.

Luke shook his head. “You’re so fucking wet” he pants. He didn’t even touched you properly and you were soaking his finger, lips glistening in your own arousal and leaving a wet patch on your pink underwear. “I need to taste you, doll. Please”

Your chest shakes when you laugh. You think it’s so cute that even though he has a finger buried inside you, your hand wrapped around his cock as you pump him slowly, he still says please, he still asks.

“Do whatever you want to me, Luke. I’m yours tonight”

That’s all the needed to hear. You let go of your hot grip as he steadies himself on your bed. But his hand reaches for something beside him, next to his calve. He brings the whip cream out again. “Can I try something?” he asks.

And how could you say no to his face?

You hold your breath when he leaves little balls of whip cream down your abdomen. You figure it’s empty now, because Luke throws it carelessly to the ground, a soft thud against the carpet on the side of your bed.

He holds your waist steady when you squirm slightly, as if you were about to run away from him. He glances at you for a second, his eyes, dark and dominant, basically telling you to not move a single inch. The plain sight of him, looking at you like that, while his big hands are gripped on your sides, only made you wetter.

He lowers his head to the first blob, tongue agonizingly slow as he only takes the very tip. You whine, you want him to touch you more, you want him to kiss you everywhere, to lick you everywhere, but he only makes it seems like a torture when he stops his movements.

“The more you complain, the more time I’ll take” he said. You nodded to his words, closing your eyes as you tried your best to patiently wait for him to start again.

Soon, you felt his tongue against your skin. This was so much better than your cleavage, so much hotter. You felt his teeth teasing you, attempting to bite but then pulling again, licking the last bit of whip cream before moving down to the next blob. By the time he reached under your belly button, you let out little gasps as his hands massage your inner thighs, dangerously close to your cunt.

He’s not directly touching you, but you feel the arousal getting ticker, and how close Luke’s breath was now to you, so hot and dry. You felt like dripping, even though you weren’t, but you were surely more than ready for whatever it is that he wanted to do to you.

It feels like heaven to him when he finally gets to taste you. He pushed his own head deeper in between your thighs as he groans, as if what he’s getting is not enough. Your high pitched moans fill his ears when his tongue starts slow, little kitten licks over your clit, too soft to even consider them as licks, but it has you squirming and grinding your hips down onto his face, pulling at his curls and asking him for more.

Oh, your sweet pleas. Your moans. Luke feels like a mad man as he start to gently rut his hips against your mattress. And to this point, he’s completely gone in you, too drunk to even care about how loud you were being, how hard he was eating you out, how if someone even tried to walk past your cabin, they’ll hear.

But maybe this is just what he wanted too. He didn’t know how long has it been since he realized he wanted to fuck your brains out, but he always cared about everything too. Where could it be, in a place where no one could see you, how he’d have to cover your mouth to stop you from moaning and letting the others hear you, how he had to pull his dick out slowly and put it back in at the same speed because he knew that if he did it too hard, he’ll become a mess. But he didn’t give a fuck about those things now. He finally had you as he wanted you, why in the world would he care about all those stupid things now?

In fact, he encouraged you. “Don’t hide those pretty noises from me, baby” he panted. “Let me hear you”

He was drooling. He couldn’t help it. You tasted so deliciously sweet, and not because of the whip cream leftovers on his mouth. Yes, it did change things a bit but, he knew how to distinguish what was artificial and what was you. And he loved you. He loved how you couldn’t stop coating his lips with your juices, how your arousal mixed with his saliva and dripped down your ass and onto the sheets.

He never enjoyed a meal so much.

“Luke, wait” you say, pulling at his curls but he only leaned into you more, nose bumping against your clit as his tongue remains inside you. “Luke, I’m gonna cum, wait”

“Then cum” he lifted his head as fast as possible when he heard your words. “Do it, baby.” He noticed the way your thighs were shaking, soothing them down with the palm of his hands.

You shook your head. “No, no” you whine. “I wanna do it while you fuck me, Luke. Please? It’ll feel so good, please”

Luke was starstruck. Oh, how the tables have turned. And how he turned you around too.

You still laid in bed, faced down onto the mattress. Luke had placed a pillow under your hips, ass in the air as he placed himself over you, one knee on each side of your legs. The shaking on your legs had stopped, but Luke noticed how excited you were, how even though you were so fucked up, how a white and sticky mess covered your inner thighs and how your whole body was glistening with sweat, you still managed to crack a smile to yourself as you bit your thumb.

You were driving him crazy. He wasn’t sure he was ever going to be able to look at another’s girl’s face after you. You had him wrapped around your finger and you knew it, and you were just so mean about it, patiently waiting for him to fuck you as he pumps himself a few times, cock harder than it’ll ever be again and his tip leaking with precum.

He placed himself in your entrance, slowly rubbing it up and down your folds, and pushing himself into you at an agonizing pace. His tip was quickly covered in you, glistening with a mix of his saliva and your juices. He tried his best to not let any drop go to waste, getting absorbed by your sheets.

“You wanted my cock, didn’t you, doll?” he asks, pushing himself into you faster than you expected, a loud gasp scraping from your throat. “Then take it”

Your hands instantly reached for the sheets on your sides due to his fast pace, that took the air out of your lungs and started a racing heartbeat inside you, your knuckles quickly turning white as your nails digging into them, but Luke took them both, pushing your wrists together behind your back and holding them there. He used your hands to push himself deeper every time, rock harder, faster.

You were decent enough to muffle your moans in your sheets, but Luke could still hear them mixing with his owns; low grunts, loud gasps and hitched breaths. He had to close his eyes many times to prevent himself from cumming, because what a sight did he have under him.

Your cunt, shiny and coated with a white creamy consistent was sucking him in even when he pulled out. You were so greedy for him. Your walls tightened around him and wanted him to stay there, still, but the rocking of his hips and the gushing sounds of your pussy as he pounded into you was too good to let it pass.

He loved the sound. He loved how you were much wetter inside, making himself feel as if he was pounding into the tiniest and warmest hole ever, creaming his cock and not wanting for him to ever pull out and leave.

He suddenly lowered his body to yours, one hand letting go off his grip to pull your hair aside. “You say you’re mine tonight” he repeated your words in your ear. Your back arched unconsciously, ass slamming back into his cock. “Nah, baby. You’re mine forever”

He let go of your hands, only to place one hand on your throat, pulling you slightly back to him, his fingers squeezing on your sides. Your moans quickly became quite as you tried your best to breathe, but you loved it so much you didn’t even attempt to remove his hand from you.

“You’re all mine, yn” he panted. “Mine. This body,” he gripped on your waist with his free hand, “this pussy, those lips” a ghost of his thumb brushed your bottom lip, pulling down on it. “Mine. Mine. Mine”

He slammed his hips against you repeatedly. You didn’t know when exactly, but you came, and Luke felt it too when the consistent that ringed around the base of his cock became more and more noticeable. And it didn’t take him long to do the same.

He collapsed over your body as you finally gasped for air. You coughed slightly, tears forming on the corner of your eyes but quickly drying out.

“I’m sorry” he said, sliding off you and laying next to you. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah-,” you laugh “Yeah, I’m-, wow”

That made him laugh. His arm wrapped around your waist as he placed a tender kiss on your cheek. His hands then started to run down your hair, all the way down to your lower back. You close your eyes at the feeling, only momentarily opening them to see something red in between your clothes, shining carelessly to the moonlight from your window.

You reach down to grab the empty can. “We should get another one of these” you say.

[spookykoolkat]

summer breeze | eddie munson 18+

wrote a drabble cus im just thinking about drugdealer!eddie at a party (ones that hes tired of going to) to sell and make money, but you take him completely off of his game once he notices you.

drugdealer!eddie x plus sized!fem!reader

warnings: 18+ only! minors do not interact or get BLOCKED. pwp (sorta), eddie and reader are both in their early twenties (eddie is a year or two older than reader), flirting, p in v (protected pls wrap it up!), fingering, mentions of oral (fem receiving), descriptions of feminine fat bodies, itsyyy bit of body issues (reader isn't insecure just aware of her body), very light choking if you squint, dirty talk (i think hes filthy here), body worship, use of pretty girl, daddy, baby, sweetheart, etc lmk if i missed something.

please do not forget to read and educate yourself on the genocide in gaza! please do your daily clicks and donate to families in need for sudan, congo and palestine + more. https://arab.org/ scroll down on my page for resources and posts about palestine! it will always be free palestine and boycotting the show stranger things as there are three raging zionists on set! no longer taking requests for stranger things or tlou!

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i definitely see eddie munson being the one that's invited to the party to make money, find customers, manage to provide the entire party with weed and other drugs people wanted. maybe he's not the most fun, given he was burnt out after his teen years from doing crazy shit like trying pills and psychedelics to skipping class to drive two towns over, drinking and partying to make up for a life time.

he's not there to necessarily party. he's there to make money, drink, and observe. he doesn't even really miss the partying, or the people. since he was the plug, it was only ever about business. how much can someone get, what can they get, for what price, thanks, have a good night. he didn't get much socialization done in his life right now, so his best bet was to just watch.

he took his place on the couch, somewhere in the clouded area of the living room of whoever's house he's in right now. it was almost deja vu for him.

eddie would be SUCH an observer. quiet, listening and watching to everyone and everything since he was always in the corner unless he was needed. so when his eyes scanned the room after taking a puff of his blunt, it wasn't odd that his eyes latched onto you first.

you were wearing your usual, tube top, fishnet and jean shorts that rode up your ass and hugged the dips of your hips and waist. i think eddie tried to stop looking at you, especially when you saw him staring from your spot where you poured yourself another drink. but even you catching him didn't make him have any shame.

he was checking you out unabashedly. he was staring at the way your tits squeezed against the fabric of the tube top, how your tummy poked out of your shorts because they squeezed into your curves, how the fishnets had holes in some spots on your legs probably from stretching over the width of your thighs.

i think eddie would definitely try to make a move on you, his confidence wasn't lost on him, but he would wait. and while he would wait, he would think about touching you, talking to you, maybe even talking you through it.

he was a freak.

he waited until you finally decided to dance with a few of your friends, getting up from his spot and mixing in between the bodies to get next to you. eddie wasn't a dancer. not in these settings, even he surprised himself.

the obsession was mutual. your hands couldn't stop touching him as you two danced, whispering little things in each other's ears.

"you're really fucking pretty, you know that? like, insanely pretty. i couldn't stop looking at you from across the room." his voice was all you heard even when the music tried to drown it out, he was the only one you could listen to.

"eddie right?" you asked in his ear and your voice was even sweeter than he thought. he just nodded and let his hands fall onto your hips.

"you think i'm pretty?" you asked, your eyes fluttering up at him and biting your lip.

eddie only put his hands on your waist and squeezed, pulling you into him and smiling as you both danced together. putting your hands on his chest as he moved his hands to the lower part of your back and dipping his finger tips into your shorts, he leaned down and whispered in your ear,

"more than pretty. can't even focus on my job when you're right there in front of me just begging for me to come and take you away."

your eyes flutters again, this time with your lips parted and small hitch in your throat.

it was the same expression you had that night, upstairs in the guest room as everyone partied below you when he pushed his fingers inside of your heat.

"oh, ooh baby," he would say as he watched your cunt suck his fingers in, coating him in your juices and making a mess over his hand.

"i-i'm, eddie, oh my god eddie," you groaned, jean shorts discarded and panties moved to the side as he played with your cunt.

his hands ripped the fishnets between your thighs, letting his fingers spread the thick of your cunt and press his finger pads onto the glistening pearl that made you flutter your eyes shut.

it was the same expression you gave when he pushed his length into your sopping heat, and grabbed onto every inch of skin he could. once he entered you after making you cum on his fingers, he got eager.

eddie pulled your top down and let your tits free, becoming even more obsessed you might end up having to put a restraining order on him. it turned out, eddie was a tit man. he played with your tits as he slid in and out of you, squeezing your pebbled nipples and teasing them. sucking on his fingers just to play with your nipples, grabbing your tits and pushing them together to watch them bounce as he fucked you.

he was in love.

you didn't know eddie much, but he took his time with you. even when the party seemed to get even more rowdy, he only fucked into you harder. his hips snapping against your thighs, now calves on his shoulders as he quickly grabbed a pillow and slid it under the small of your back.

"my fucking god, sweetheart, look at you," he said, slipping back into you and adding a stretch that added to your pleasure, "even fuckin' prettier like this, you know that? goddamn, i'm gonna fucking get addicted to this pussy,"

the wind had been knocked out of you, breathless and scrambling for something to say but without missing a beat eddie ran his fingers through his hair and grabbed your ankles, spreading your legs wide beside him to see you open for him.

"i, i, daddy please, i can't, too much, can't breathe," you could feel his cock in your throat, punching into you and making your legs twitch at his lace.

"just like that, pretty girl, hold yourself open like that, be good for daddy." he groaned, sitting on his knees to slide back into your gaping hole as you placed your hands on the back of your thighs.

"there we go, so fuckin' good, so pretty," he whispered to himself, watching as tears ruined your perfect makeup and sweat collected on your forehead and chest. you were ruined, aching and throbbing, still begging for him even when he was giving you what you wanted.

"please, please, so fucking good s' so fucking big," you said, out of breath as he moved to your liking.

he couldn't fuck you like that for long, not when he was watching the weight of your tits bounce and move to the rhythm of his thrusts, not when you begged for him, not when he looked at the way your legs pressed against your stomach that was so soft and round for him—now becoming his favorite part to touch as he lifts himself from his knees and putting his weight into your waist.

he got a good grip like this, you thought, feeling how his hands molded into the skin you bashed for so long just to fuck you deeper and more relentlessly.

it was when someone knocked on the door, asking for eddie, (after your second orgasm) when he decided to flip the two of you over so that his back was now against the random headboard of the bed and your thighs sat on top of his.

you were positioned at his tip, most of him sliding out after your orgasm pushed him out. you couldn't help but feel yourself drip onto his length as you looked at the state of him, hearing the man call for his friend outside of the door, and watching as eddie got lost in your curves and softness.

"fucking hell. goddamnit, look at you," he breathed, hands moving all over you, "this will never leave my mind. i'm telling you right now. gonna be thinking about this for fucking ever, thinking about this pretty fucking body on me,"

he was touching everything, all over you, squeezing parts of you you'd never though you'd let anyone see. kissing the stretch marks and moles and the extra flab of your arms and leaning you back to kiss the width of your tummy.

"sit down on me, baby, please, let me have it, let daddy have it, i've been real good for you, baby," he begged, whined, pressing the side of his face into your tits and gently suckling on the skin.

he was growing tiresome, feeling your hole clench around his weeping, red tip that ached for you. eddie didn't even realize he could throb this hard for anyone, or that he even wanted anyone as bad as he wanted you when he saw you. he didn't even know he could last as long as he did, not with you being right in front of him begging for him to fuck you.

you were beautiful, you had something about you that he couldn't take his eyes off of, something he knew he wasn't going to stop thinking about even if he tried.

"but, they're asking for you," you whimpered, fingers dragging through eddie's hair and fingernails scraping his scalp as he groped your tits and sucked on them. "the party, you have customers,"

he leaves kisses when he speaks again.

"the fuck does that matter, hm? as far as i'm concerned," he said and leaned back, watching the way your cunt looked so he could remember every detail. how juicy your cunt was, how he could palm it and rub your clit at the same time, how well your cunt wrapped around his cock when he gave everything for you to take,

"i got the prettiest, juiciest fucking pussy i've ever had in my fuckin' life right here about to sit on my cock, you think i'm gonna stop trying to make you cum so i can get a 20 dollar bill?" he scoffed, "absolutely fuckin' not. fuck that party. now let me fuck that pretty cunt baby, please, let me feel it again,"

he whimpered when he met your eyes, desperation for a nut especially like this, and you melted. you clenched around his tip and he winced as you slowly lowered yourself onto him. you were gasping at this point, trying to fight for air while you let your cunt take all of him until your clit was pressed against his thatch of hair.

"oh fuck, FUCK, fuck baby," he practically yelled, throwing his head back against the headboard and you couldn't help yourself. his hands were gripping your asscheeks so hard they left hand prints, pulling and spreading them apart just to leave slaps to imagine how your ass would jiggle with it.

it left him moaning even more.

your lips attached to his neck and kissed everywhere you could, licking his pale skin and sucking on his neck and chest. you left hickies where you could. the soberness in you wanted him to remember this, to be looked at so people can know someone fucked him this good and it was you.

the drunk in you just wanted to claim him as yours. let everyone know he was fucking you. and only you. or so you convinced yourself to think.

as you buried your face into his neck and suckled and licked, your cunt clenched around him and slowly you lifted your hips up, just to slam them back down and make lewd noises fill the room. his moaning was turning you on even more, knowing his was sounding fucked out like this because of you.

"eddie, yo what the fuck? i'm tryin' to get some weed man! come on!" the obnoxious voice was drowned out by eddie's moans and whimpers as you decided to speed your bouncing up.

you did it for a hot minute, rolling your hips and bouncing your ass on your knees as you took him in with every lift of your hips. he was so much more filling this way, so much more bigger and reaching places it felt like was your stomach.

"eddie, e-eddie, p-p-please, eddie," you were crying into his neck when you whined and it only made him release a guttural groan as he quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled your body down to his.

"eddie, what, wh-" you tried as he fixed positions, planting his feet and raising his hips before continuously slamming up into your cunt.

"oh, oh, oh my, f-fucking, mmphf, my," you really tried, to make sense of what he was doing until your mind went blank, until you felt the head of his pink cock hitting your cervix over and over again until it began to mix pleasure with pain.

it was delicious, it was everything, and yet the man was still at the door. "eddie, eddie," you moaned, sort of forgetting about everything else but the man ramming into your sore hole, you corrected yourself quickly as he fucked you harder, "daddy!"

"woah, hey, are you, are you fucking in there?? eddie!!! my man!!" the man cheered through the door but to you it was muffled.

you couldn't hear anything but the messiness of your cunt, the squelching, the groaning and crying, the moaning and whimpering, his words making you tighten around him.

"take that fucking dick, baby, take what daddy's giving you, yeah?" he growled in your ear as he kept his pace up, your tears hitting his shoulders and your whines being muffled by his chest.

"i know baby, you're taking me so well, being so good, feel so fucking good,"

"cmon baby, let me have another one, cum again for daddy,"

"next time i'm gonna bury my fucking face between those thighs and let your ride my tongue, just wanna taste my pretty girl the right way," he was breathless, and listening to you cry from his words and beg after every sweet nothing he couldn't hold it anymore.

"get it man!" again. eddie was almost getting pissed off. actually. he was pissed off.

this random man was able to hear the way you sounded just for eddie, the way you called for him and said his name, the way you cried when his cock hit your spot over and over again in this angle.

"get the fuck out of here, fuckface!" eddie screamed angrily away from your ear, only making you clench harder as he then flipped you to lay on your side.

his cock was still inside of you, only now he laid behind you in the same position and lifted your leg by the thickness of your thigh and held it there as he lifted his thigh and slipped further inside of you.

"m' the only one that should hear you like this, not him, nobody else. look at that," he says in your ear as he uses his other hand to point your head downwards to see the way his cock slammed into your cunt over and over again, barely being able to see it over your tummy, "see how she's crying for me? god i wish you could fuckin' see yourself, how fuckin' pretty you are,"

"daddy, daddy, fuck, fuck me, fuck my pussy please, make me feel good," you managed to get out as he moved his hand from your hair to your throat, forcing you to throw your head back against his.

eddie puts his chin right at the top of your head, somehow seemingly bigger than you and crowding you as he kept his pace.

"touch yourself, princess, touch that pretty little clit for daddy, daddy's gonna make you cum all over his big fucking cock, how's that sound, pretty girl? you like that?" he asks, and you can hear the smirk in his voice.

it only grows deeper when he sees your weak hand move to your messy cunt, finding your clit and rubbing firm circles into her. eddie can feel you clench and drip onto him, covering his cock in your cum and juices as you reach your climax for the third time.

you didn't know eddie. he didn't really know you. but in this moment, holding you to his chest as you leaves kisses in your hair and on your cheek sweetly, fucking you roughly and messily, palm still at your throat.

you were crying by now, tears slipping down just for eddie to dry them back up.

"i know, i can feel you baby, can feel you gettin' close for me," he boasts, his own thrusts getting sloppy and missing the rhythm as he struggles to hold his own release back.

"so good, feels so good daddy," you gasped, voice dry and strained, "gonna make, fuck fuck, baby i can't, too much,"

"uh-uh baby, what were you gonna say? gonna make you what? cum? gonna make this pretty little cunt cum all over my cock again?" eddie's balls pulled taut, fighting back his orgasm until you clenched hard one last time and yelled out.

"yes! yes! yes! make me cum, you're making me cum, i'm cumming, daddy please," you shouted, body shaking in his hold as you move your hands to grab at his wrist and try to wriggle out of his grasp, his thrusts becoming too much too fast.

"oh fuck, oh fuck, baby, fuck," he whimpered, wincing and releasing a string of moans and groans as he cums in the condom; desperately wishing he could've painted your walls. you were still shaking in his grasp, whimpering when eddie pulls out of you and moves his hands to fix your hair.

eddie moves you to lay on your back as he sits up on one arm and admires you, the lipstick smeared and eyeshadow messy, eyeliner running and your face makeup staining whatever pillows were there.

eddie wasn't the type to think he was going to call back. thats for sure. he wasn't a dating man, a 'see you more than once in a year' man. eddie was confused for the most part, not knowing where this was gonna go next depending how he went about this last part of the interaction. he especially wasn't a girl. not that girl who asked what we are on the first hook up. not the girl who day dreamed about someone when they weren't near.

he wasn't a girl. he especially wasn't that girl.

you opened your eyes to him staring with a lopsided smile, scanning over your face and chest.

"what?" you smiled, breathlessly and sleep pulling at your eyes.

he shakes his head with a small smile and drowns out the music playing from downstairs, watching you scan his face.

"so, are you gonna call me after this? when can i see you again?"