#just wanted to slide this out there tonight

[cream1111]

🍎 weird dream . . .ᐟᅟ

⠀⎯⎯⠀⠀caleb/mc!reader, 1.5k, somno, noncon, fingering, dry humping. ao3

it's not uncommon for you to burst into caleb's room without knocking. it was the same no matter where he was, you'd walk straight to his bed, already talking, as if all his attention was yours to command the second you entered his periphery, as if it was your own room. sometimes he'd be by his desk, perking up at the sound of the door being opened and turning to face you, sometimes he's already in bed reading, scooting over to make room as he continues his book, not even having to look at you. you'd snuggle in, making yourself comfortable.

"you know you got your own bed, right?" he'd tease, as if he'd have it any other way.

"yeah, but yours is waaay more comfortable" you'd feign a pout. he never pushes, and you never expect him to.

you'd talk and talk, and he'd listen happily. and sometimes, you'd fall asleep in his bed, never asking, never thinking to. it had always been like this.

even after he moved out for school, summers still gave you the chance to live together once again. you'd seamlessly slip back into the routine, as if no time had passed.

tonight was no different.

you were snuggled up against him, you had been telling him about some gossip from school, some text conversation with a friend. using his outstretched arm as a pillow as you looked up at the ceiling, gesturing at nothing, looking over at him occasionally, catching his eye every time. his eyes never strayed from you. you were used to his gaze, the feeling was constant when he was around.

your story slowed, yawns every few minutes became every few words. until finally a comfortable silence filled the room. he let's out a little laugh. rubbing your shoulder to help ease you into a nice dream.

"must've been really sleepy, huh" he mutters into your hair, petting you, you offer a sleepy groan as a response. he can't help but smile, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head as you hum happily. it's not long before your breathing slows into that familiar pattern. your chest rising and falling evenly, you were sound asleep.

"there you go," caleb coos softly, shifting to be behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. slowly, so slowly, he moves his hand to rub your stomach. small soothing circles, testing the waters. you've never woken up so far, but he doesn't want to push his luck.

his fingers drift lower, silk soft touches along the exposed skin between your slightly shifted top and the hem of your shorts. he could do this forever, feeling you under his hands, in between his arms, against his chest. he loved having you so close like this, he doesn't know if he could go without it. he knows you feel the same, you might not know it entirely, maybe you don't think about it too much, but he sees the way you look at him, the way you blush, the way you tease. you feel it too, you just aren't ready to act on it yet, you wanna keep the charade going. and that's fine, he's a patient man.

for the most part.

his fingers grow restless, sliding under the waistband of your shorts, under your panties, trailing lower and lower, slow and steady. he hovers over your clit, your breathing remains even.

he waits a second, just to be sure.

and he softly presses down. you don't stir at all. he begins to move in easy little circles, just the right amount of pressure. he thinks he's perfected it. he got a bit too eager with you once, and you almost woke up. you like soft touches, he knows that, for now at least.

he uses his arm around your waist to pull you closer, pressing your ass flush against his growing hard on. he has to bite back a moan, letting out a deep breath instead. he wants to grind into you so bad, but this isn't about him, it's all about you. he remains still, cock twitching against the layers that separate your skin.

he knows one day you'll be together. he can wait until then, but in the meantime, he just wants to open you up a bit. get you ready for him. he thinks it's sweet even, he knows you don't have any experience. he doesn't want you to feel embarrassed or scared he won't fit. he'll be able to assure you and mean it, he'll know your body so well already, you'll have nothing to worry about.

his finger against your clit presses harder, just a touch. your thighs shift, pressing into his bulge harder. he slows, not yet stopping. waiting, checking for any tell tale signs of you waking up.

"mm..." you let out a tiny moan, still asleep. caleb can't help but let his eyes flutter closed at the sound. letting his face nuzzle deeper into your hair, peppering encouraging kisses against your head as he breathes in your scent.

"feels good?" he mutters, barely audible. "let's see..." his hand stills, moving lower, dipping between your lips towards your opening. he has to bite his lip again to hold back the low moan that almost escaped.

you're soaked.

he has a habit of giving you what you want. now is no exception, he won't make you wait.

he circles your opening, before slowly inching in. his cock twitches again, head weeping, wanting nothing more than to be buried inside you. he pushes in deeper and deeper.

"nngh⎯" you let out a soft groan, and he freezes. he's unsure if it's discomfort or pleasure. you're tense around him.

"i know, i know, it's why we're opening you up." he whispers in his most reassuring tone, hoping it'll reach you in your dreams and put you at ease. and it seems to work, you relax, sinking deeper into the bed, soft walls welcoming his finger.

"mhm, just like that..." he presses into you, his finger is as deep as it could go. he angles his wrist so the meat of his palm presses into your clit as he slips a second finger in.

"hah," you sigh sweetly. caleb takes a deep breath, trying to keep his desire in check. maybe, maybe you've done this enough times, maybe you can take a little more now. he justifies it to himself as he curls his fingers out just to push it back inside, a little harsher now, causing you to press harder against his needy cock. you tense again, but relax before he even has a chance to comfort you.

he's losing all composure now.

he repeats the motion, harder, grinding against you. and again, and again, falling into a steady rhythm.

"mmph!" the sweet sounds seem to pour out of your lips. he takes them as encouragement, moving his head lower to brush his lips against your neck. your body sways with each thrust from his fingers, pliant and so accepting of everything he's giving.

he's moving you so much he doesn't notice as you shift more against him.

you feel the pleasure bubbling within you first. it pulls you close to waking. you've had this dream before. being fondled and fucked. your eyes squeeze shut tighter, but it starts to sting, it feels real, you feel the pressure of your eyes against your skull. you twitch, and you suddenly become acutely aware of the ache in your core.

your eyes flutter, half lidded as you take in your surroundings. caleb, he's behind you, and he's ... his ⎯ you can't think straight. he's still moving. you're moving, he's moving your body along with his.

he's pressed against you, he's huffing in your ear, and his hand is in your panties.you try to keep your breathing in check, you want to pant, you feel so overwhelmed all over, you feel surrounded, filled.

right before you can fully acknowledge what is happening, you feel it, your peak is approaching, fast. it's all too much, all of it, his thrusts, his breath against you, his hard cock grinding on your ass, his fingers so, so deep. you try to stop it, whimpers tumble out, you try to speak, but it comes out as a lewd moan.

"w-wai⎯" but it's too late. it all comes crashing down, you come onto his fingers. he feels it, shoving his fingers deep and then holding them still, letting your walls milk him, fruitlessly.

"fuck, yeah, that's it," he whispers, kissing your neck. he was trembling, "mmm, yes."

as you come down you realize he's stopped moving as well, as he shifts you feel the cold air hit a fresh damp spot against your ass. he gently removes his hand for your panties, you crack your eye open as he raises it, past your face and out of sight. you hear him behind you, his lips part and he's sucking his fingers. he let's out a soft groan at your taste. you shudder.

"sooo good, you did so good." he murmurs into your hair. moving his arms to surround you again. you feel unsure, maybe, you're still dreaming. it's hard to tell, you feel so sleepy again. you lean further into him. he's so warm. it just feels right. and it's not unlike dreams you've had before. maybe, you liked it more than you're willing to admit.

you could worry about this in the morning.

[anqelrafe]

— ୨ৎ panties to the side

synopsis: teasing rafe with the lingerie he gifted you so much during your valentines date, he snaps and bends you over the counter in a restaurant bathroom. authors note: very excited about valentines day if you couldn't tell. a little pissed cause why is it so hard to find cute valentines pics?! ( •᷄‎ࡇ•᷅ ) anywaysss, enjoy!! content warnings: not proofread. contains smut, mdni. rafe's (very canon) obsession with lace. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. public sex. implications of almost being caught at the end. lmk if i missed anyway <3

it was all his fault—or at least that's how you viewed it. he had left you all alone for several weeks to go on some stupid trip to Morocco that he wouldn't give up the smallest detail about. and it's not like you could easily satisfy yourself either; rafe meant it when he said nothing and no one could compare to him. not to mention all of your toys that mysteriously went missing the day he left. so of course you'd be a little extra needy the day he came back.

rafe was trying to be patient with you—he really was. but you kept leaning over in that tight sexy low cut red dress, purposely putting your perfect tits on full display for him; and they way he'd catch you eye fucking him whenever you thought he wasn't looking made him want to rip that dress off of you in front of everyone.

the worst part is how infuriatingly coy you've been acting all night whenever he'd try to confront you; casually brushing it off as him being dirty minded.

“rafe.” you drawl, looking up from the menu and finding rafe starring at your exposed cleavage for what seemed like the thousandth time tonight. his tongue instinctively sticks out to lick his lips, eyes darting up to meet yours before he clears his throat, leaning back in his seat. he was already unashamedly hard under the table, not at all bothering to hide it. “yeah, sweetheart?”

“i need to go to the bathroom n touch up my makeup. tell the waiter i want the chicken marsala when they come over, ‘kay?” you murmured, already standing from your seat and grabbing your purse. “alright,” rafe hummed, calling after you “hurry back, yeah?”

“uh huh.” you nod curtly, trying to fight smirk on your face as you purposely let your tube of lip gloss slip from your bag. all so you could bend over and pick it up on your way to the bathroom, causing your tiny dress to ride up, exposing the swell of your ass to him, clad in the red lacy panties he had surprised you with this morning—the ones he specifically told you to save for tonight.

that's all it took for rafe to snap and confirm you knew exactly what you've been doing all night.

he shot up from his seat, the metal legs of the chair scraping against the marble floors as he hasted to the women's bathroom, swinging the door open, eliciting gasps from both you and the other two women at the sinks.

“you two get the hell out.” rafe grunted, already moving behind you to press his hand to the small of your back, bending you over the counter as the women hurriedly grab their things and leave the bathroom.

“can't fuckin take you anywhere, hm?” his hands travel down, lifting the bottom of your dress, bunching it around your waist. “mmh, just couldn't wait til later.” you respond softly, hooking your fingers into the waistband of your panties to pull them down, only to have rafe grip your wrists and place your hands onto the counter in front of you. “nah, keep em on. bought them for a reason, yeah?”

the rattle of his belt being undone fills the bathroom, the sound of his zipper unfastening following soon after. he slides his pants along with his boxers down in one swift movement, letting them fall to his ankles, revealing his hard and throbbing cock; the tip flushed with beads of precum dripping down the shaft.

he pulls his tongue between his teeth as he uses one hand to hook his fingers in the gusset of your panties to push them aside, the material of the lace rubbing against your sensitive bud, making a soft whimper leave your mouth. “ah, yeah—fuck—look at that. all fuckin wet just by me sitting there. tsk tsk, you've gotten nastier since i've been gone, yeah?” he groans, eyes fixed on the way your juices are saturating your panties. “damn, baby...i love these panties on you..so pretty. gonna order you ten more when we get home, alright?” you could tell how true that statement was by the way his fingers ran over the lace, admiring the delicate pattern against your skin with an intense stare.

rafe ran his tongue over his bottom lip, rubbing his flushed tip through your puffy drenched folds before easily sliding into your drooling cunt. “o-oh my gosh” you mewl, hands gripping the counter as his cock slides in and out of you in quick, deep strokes; your gummy walls clenching around him every time he brushes against your cervix. “fuuck.” rafe groaned, jaw going slack as he grabbed onto the fabric of your panties, pulling you back into him to meet his thrust “grippin me so fuckin good.”

“bet this is all you were think’n about, huh? you knew what you were doing all night, baby. you just needed this cock, hm?” rafe murmured, watching you through the mirror—the way your glossed lips parted, brows furrowed in pleasure, eyes fluttering whenever his angle would change ever so slightly.

“mmhm.” you reply in a whine, your grip on the counter tightening as you bite down on your already swollen lips, trying to keep your moans and whimpers from being heard by anyone behind the door. “shit, that all you can say? got’cha all speechless already.” a strangled moan leaves you in response, your mind becoming cloudy and overwhelmed as his thumb presses to your swollen clit, rubbing tight circles on the throbbing bud.

“r-rafe...” you whimper as your legs start trembling and your eyes squeeze shut. rafe groans softly, feeling you start to clench around him. “mmh i know, i know,” he murmured, the speed of both his hips and thumb increasing. “you gonna cum, yeah? go on, baby...lemme have it.”

your eyes roll back as the coil in your stomach finally snaps and you have to bite onto your lip harshly to keep yourself from screaming as your orgasm washes over you. rafe continues his thrusts as your cunt flutters around him, your body slumping over the counter as he helps you ride out your climax.

the way you squeezed around him pushed rafe over the edge, jaw going slack as his cock twitches inside of you, thick, hot ropes of cum painting your walls. “fuuck.” he moans as his eyes flutter shut briefly before they open again, watching you through the mirror. leisurely, his movements fade until he eventually comes to a halt, his breathing ragged.

leaning forward, rafe plants a few kisses on your trembling body, opening his mouth to speak before he's interrupted by a sharp knock on the door.

shit.

taglist 🪽: : @bunbun-3 @drewscoquette @untitled10351 @rafesweetie @meetmebehindthemallrafe @supercutelovergirl @plaidcowboy @missquantic @rafesdiorperfume @minitarayummy @this-one-weeb @akobx @mystianqel @lacebambidoll @dolletebun @milamilkie @ch6rm

[burrowdarling]

My MVP II (18+)

Summary: What happens after the NFL Honors, especially after your ride back to the hotel. Read part one here!

Pairings: boyfriend! Joe Burrow x girlfriend!reader

Requested: Yes | No

Warnings: oral (fem receiving), light spanking, elevators, Joe praise, sex (p in v), MDNI

Note: Heyo! Here's part two: The Hotel Room from My MVP, I hope you all enjoy. Thank you all so much for the love on the first one, which has over 600 notes in 3 days (like what?!?) Happy Superbowl Sunday, wish we had our boys playing, but smut always help with that right?

Word Count: 2.8k

Check out my Masterlist here!

Taglist: @burrowbarbie @definitelynotdomanique @one-sweet-gubler @plushkhiii @enchantedinfinity @iosivb9 @hellsingalucard18 @hotburreaux @lilfreakjez Feel free to comment or message me if you'd like to be added to the list!

You tried your best to keep pace with Joe’s long legs as you trailed behind him, fingers knotted through his. He Handed his keys off to the valet, his face expressionless as he did so. You felt your cheeks flush at the knowledge of what you had just done, knowing some stranger was about to get into the same car. Trying to keep your face down, you mumbled a thank you to the man as you passed him by. The walk wasn’t long, but your short legs were no match for Joe's long strides. 

“Joey, can we slow down? It’s hard to walk in these damn things,” you pleaded, wishing you had taken them off and reaped the consequences later. 

He wordlessly obeyed your request, slowing his pace slightly so you could catch up. Joe took the opportunity to release your hand, slipping his own protectively around your waist to keep you close. You walked through the sliding doors of the hotel lobby, Joe making a beeline for the elevators. The wait was short, glad to have gotten an elevator all to yourselves. Joe pressed the ‘close doors’ button as fast as he could, making you giggle.

“Someone’s eager,” you said, trying to spin to face him. You were feigning for his touch, still riding the high from your first orgasm. It was nothing compared to what Joe could give you, him knowing your body better than you did.

Joe pulled you tightly into his front, the feel of his cock straining against his dress pants making your breath hitch in your throat. The thought that this could stop on any floor, anyone could walk in had your pulse thrumming. Joe leaned his head down to the crook of your neck, mouth dangerously close to your ear.

“Do you know how badly I want to fuck you right now?” Joe asked as more of a rhetorical question, “how badly I wanted to rip this dress off of you before we even got out of the car at the venue?”

He slipped the back of your dress up, keeping your front covered. You let out a gasp of surprise at the sudden breeze on your backside, feeling more exposed than you were in the car. You were shocked, unsure of what to do with this new side of Joe. He was always so reserved when it came to you, but tonight was like he had flipped a switch of his own.

“I’m regretting letting you put your excuse for fucking panties back on right now,” he groaned, giving your ass a smack and a squeeze. Joe took the chance to grind himself against you, a moan slipping from your lips at the feel of him, desperate to have him against your bare skin

You made it out of the elevator unscathed, in a desperate pursuit to find your room. You fumbled with the keycard, unsure as to why Joe entrusted you with the job considering his composure was much better than yours. He waited patiently though, large hands on your shoulders while you went through your bag to find it, slipping it out of your purse and only dropping it to the floor once before you both made it in the confines of your room. 

The moment you passed the threshold, Joe was on you. You had only taken a few steps in as your back was against the door as it closed. Joe’s mouth was everywhere on your skin, lips leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

He walked you backwards to the center of the room, mouth never leaving yours. When he was satisfied with your placement, he left one final kiss to your lips before parting from you. You groaned at the loss of contact, confusion over your features when he took a seat in the armchair. 

“I want you to strip for me, sweetheart,” Joe growled out, eyes heavy with desire. His eyes were so blown with lust, you’d give him anything he asked of you. 

You walked towards him silently as you spun around, needing help unzipping your dress. You felt his large warm hands move up your back before settling on the top of your back. Joe gave you a short stroke of his thumb as a way of saying he was there, using his other hand to move the zipper down to the base of your spine. You walked back towards the middle of the room, taking a deep breath to calm your nerves as you turned back to face your man.

You hesitated for a brief second, processing his request fully under his domineering gaze before he gently nodded towards you as a sign to go ahead. He dropped you a wink before giving you a small smile, reminding you that your Joey was still here, even if he was putting on this persona tonight. You wanted to please him, give him the proper celebration he deserved. 

You pulled your hair to one side, exposing your shoulder and the skimpy strap of your dress. You locked eyes with him, taking your hair and moving the strap to slip down your arm. His eyes never left yours, licking his lips as he was unable to settle into the chair fully. You could tell he was ready to jump your bones, holding himself back to preserve this moment for as long as possible. You moved to drop the strap from your other shoulder and watched as the fabric pooled around your ankles. You stepped out of it as Joe moved from his stop on the chair. He had you in his arms, tossing you like you weighed absolutely nothing back against the pillows on the bed. You erupted in laughter, feeling heat pool in your stomach at his sheer size and strength.

You were laid back on the bed, knees bent and your heels sticking into the duvet. You watched Joe as he started to rid himself of his clothes. You admired him, feeling a strong pull of lust and love for the man before you. A well of pride sat heavy on your chest that you were able to shower him with the love and affection he deserved, to treat him like the MVP you believed he was to you. You watched as he reached around his neck, getting ready to slip the chains off for the night.

“Keep them on,” you spoke softer than you meant to, breathless at the sight of him, “you never wear jewelry, I wanna enjoy it.”

Joe nodded at your request, beginning to remove his jacket while leaving the chains around his neck. His skin was taught, his muscled chest finally being within your reach after he wore that suit all night. You got up from your place on the bed, moving on your knees to meet Joe where he was standing. He took the last of his clothing off, tossing it to the side before turning towards you. You took your opportunity, slipping a delicate hand up his chest and settling on one of his chains, giving a soft pull towards you. Joe groaned at the feeling of the taught jewelry at the nape of his neck, nipping at your lips in praise. His hands settled on your ass, gripping your cheeks in both hands before giving them a tender squeeze. You gasped at the sudden touch, Joe capitalized on the moment to slip his tongue in your mouth. Moving one hand to the middle of your back to support your body. 

It was raw and full of passion, unfiltered and encompassing the pent up emotions of the day.  Your hands were lost in his hair, gripped whatever you could to keep your head from spinning. Joe laid you back on the mattress, getting to his knees and pulling you to the edge of the bed. Much like he did earlier, he took the time to take off each one of your heels

“As sexy as these are, I wanna be able to move you around freely and not risk taking a heel to the face,” Joe joked lightly, slipping off your heel as he kissed up your calf. You nodded in agreement knowing you weren’t the most coordinated person. Even in intense moments like this, he always knew how to keep you comfortable. He repeated the same on your other leg, taking the time to move slowly up your body. Joe didn’t leave an inch of skin untouched by his lips as he settled at the apex of your thighs. 

“God you’re fucking dripping for me, sweet girl. How do you want me first?” Joe asked as he toyed with you, stroking the area just above your pubic bone causing you to stir.

“What do you mean first?” you question him, you did already finish once tonight. Your mind went blank at the possibility of just how much he wanted to wear you out tonight.

“You heard me, I plan on getting you to cum multiple times tonight. How many times do you think I can make you finish him? Once, twice, maybe three times if I’m lucky” Joe said with such confidence in his voice that your body trembled with excitement. 

“Though I think we both know I don’t need luck for that. I know just what makes you tick, exactly what my girl likes” Joe said as he brought his hand down between your legs, swiping a finger through your slit before moving up to circle your clit with his thumb.

The simplicity of the touch already had your back arching off the bed, having been craving to have his hands on you for hours. He took his free hand and brought two fingers up to your lips, tapping them to get you to open. He slipped them inside, thoroughly wetting them like you did earlier. Your eyes stayed locked on his gaze as he slipped them past your lips with a pop. You could tell he was imagining his cock in your mouth, drawing a lazy smile to your lips as the later probability. 

He brought the wet digits down to your core, slipping them inside of you as he pumped them in and out slowly to start. You were already beginning to lose it, your  body wound so tightly, it wouldn’t take much to get you there. He increased his pace as he changed the angle of his fingers, moving them in the ‘come here’ motion as he kept hitting that certain spot inside of you. In perfect rhythm, you were on fire from his touch as you were seconds from losing it, his movements unrelenting. Your hands gripped the sheets, knuckles going white at the sheer pleasure he was causing your body. You felt electric, a simple spark could send you reeling. You tossed your head from side to side against the pillow, eyes clenched shut from the pleasure coursing through you. You were so close to the edge, fighting to get to the point of that sweet release.

“I'm so close, Joey. I wanna cum for you like a good girl,” you moaned, stirring something inside of Joe at your words. It was as if he took your words as his own motivation to get you there, feeling how close you were.

“That’s it, cum all over my fingers baby,” Joe praised as your high ripped through your body, feeling a bit sensitive from your previous orgasm. “Number two will be with my mouth, I gotta get a taste of you.”

Before your mind could uncloud from the high, Joe’s tongue was already slipping inside of you lapping at whatever he could get. Your hands settled into his hair, pulling him closer to your body as you possibly could. You were a moaning mess, earning a groan from Joe in response that only made things feel more intense from the vibrations. It didn’t take long for you to finish on his face, grinding down to ride out your high that came so fast out of left field. This one feeling more intense than the first, the realization dawning on you that you had just squirted all over Joe. A small pit formed in your stomach that he would be upset somehow, propping yourself up on your elbows to look down at him between your legs.

His gaze met yours, telling you everything you needed to know. His pupils were blown so wide with lust. A look that said ‘don’t you dare feel bad for that’ while he made no move to part from you. He tenderly licked as your breathing even out, lapping at your juices like he was deprived. He moved to make his way up your body, flipping you around and lifting your hips so you were on your knees. He climbed on the bed to settle behind you, leaning down to bring his mouth by your ear. 

“You have no idea how hot that was, watching you do that. I can’t wait for number three to be around my cock, I already know your cunt is so fucking wet for me,” Joe growled out as he brought his mouth down to you, letting you taste yourself on his lips.

You hadn’t spoken much, mumbling back an incoherent string of sounds that were meant to come out as words. Joe laughed behind you, pulling you up from your hands to rest back against him. You leaned your head on his shoulder, taking the time to breath before he would wreck you with his unrelenting thrusts. He gave your temple a kiss, gripping your breasts and toying with your nipples. He already had that knot in your stomach forming again, the pressure building in your center with an ache to have him inside of you.

“Need you inside me, Joe,” you whined against him, reaching your hands around to get any part of him in your grasp. 

“I can’t deny my baby what she wants, good to hear your voice still works for now,” Joe said as he moved you back to your hands and knees. You arched your back and wiggled your hips, ready to have him inside you. You pushed back against him, feeling his hands on your hips to stop your movements. A low whine slipped past your lips, ready to beg for his cock to be inside you already when he slipped in without warning.

You moaned loudly at the fullness of having him inside you, dropping your head in relief at the contact. Joe’s grip on your hips was firm as if he was taking out all of his pent up tension and the nerves from the night out on your body. You weren’t complaining, relishing in the thrusts and feel of his body coming into contact with yours after each one.

He pulled out quickly, flipping you onto your back before quickly finding his way back inside of you. He dropped to his forearms above you, caging you into his body as you locked eyes.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, i wanna see your face when I make you come undone on my cock,” Joe said as he deepened his thrust more than you thought was possible.

Your hands were clawing at his back, trying to ground yourself into the moment, every delicious stroke making you lose more and more of your sense of control. You felt yourself tightening around his cock, your release on the edge of tipping. It was as if Joe knew exactly where you were, dropping one of his hands between you and rolled your clit with his thumb and forefinger, the touch acting like a catalyst to your orgasm. You were a mess below him, arching up into his body as your nail raked down his toned back. 

Your release brought Joe to his own, painting your walls with his own cum shortly after you. He slowed his strokes, the both of you feeling sensitive to the slightest touch after your highs. You both laid there and caught your breath.You brough one of your hands to cup his cheek, Joe leaving into the gentle touch in the aftermath of everything.

“Congratulations, Joey. That was way better than any afterparty’” you said, giving him a peck to the nose as you giggled. Joe’s hand found their way to the sides of your face, still propped up on his forearms.

“Let’s get you cleaned up baby,” Joe said as he picked you up in his arms to bring you into the bathroom. Your body felt tired, but your desire was still high.

“Round two in the shower?” you questioned, wiggling your eyebrows at him making him let out a laugh and you to pout, “I didn't get to reward you properly. Someone was too caught up in my pussy to let me.”

“Let’s get in there first and go from there you minx, a man needs a moment to recover.”

[awordsmith]

tangled up 𝜗𝜚 s.r

۶ৎ in which you and Spencer join forces to babysit both Jack and Henry.

who? spencer x bau!reader  when? s6 category: novella content warnings: not proofed, contains nothing but pure fluff, reader and spencer get mistaken as Jack and Henry's parents... reid with warmth !!  word count: 4.9k a/n: first novella fic whaaaa....i've been wanting to write this one for a while, but i knew it wouldn't be that long, so this is perfect for my first novella fic!!; enjoy!

The morning was cold and frosty, and the only thing able to mend it: a large, hot latte. Hotch approached your desk as you set your things down. He leaned over and whispered conspicuously, “Are you sure you can come tonight?”

You rolled your eyes and whispered back, just as secretive, and perhaps some more to show how dramatic he was being, “Yes, Hotch,” you saluted him, “Jack will be in good hands.”

A gruff sound came from his throat–as if signifying his disbelief, “If you say so, do you remember what time?”

“Hotch?”

He looked around, glancing back at you with pressed lips. “Yeah?”

“I got this,” you pushed his hand–gripping your desk–off.

“Right,” he nodded, “no I know.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, “so why are you stalling? Is this about your date? Because if you don’t want to go–”

“No,” he dusted his suit off, “I’m–I’m walking away.”

“Uh-huh,” you biot back a smile, feeling Spencer slide up next to you, “and what was that all about?” He kept his inquisitive gaze on your boss.

“Hotch had a date,” you stated, turning to look at him, “I’m babysitting Jack.”

He raised his eyebrows and nodded–but when Penelope called you to the roundtable room and you began to walk away with her, you could hear him mutter, “Why didn’t he ask me?”

JJ rushed in, she apologized for being late as she took her seat. The team watched her; she was flushed, but her face showed clear urgency. She rolled her eyes, “Please do not question me today, I already have enough explaining to do.”

It was silent, but then you just couldn’t help yourself, “...JJ?” She looked at you with a slight warning, but you still asked, “What happened?”

The air in the room evaporated as JJ sucked in a breath, then deflated against her chair, throwing her head back, “Henry’s babysitter quit this morning.” You kept quiet, waiting for her to elaborate. “Will and I were going to go out tonight, we’ve been planning this for weeks now.” she huffs, running a hand through her hair.

Spencer caught your eyes, and though you shook your head, knowing it’d be a bad idea, he still said, “Well, hey, you know I could watch him for you–if you still wanted to go.”

JJ raised a brow and began to shake her head slowly, “I don’t know, Spence–”

“I wouldn’t be alone,” you noted Hotch raising an eyebrow as Spencer motioned toward you, “— is watching Jack, we could babysit them together.”

JJ glanced at you, then at Hotch–hopeful, “Would you both be okay with that?”

Hotch eyed Spencer’s grin for a moment, “Fine, but — has to keep an eye on Reid too.”

“Uh–what?” Spencer threw his arms up, “I’m a great babysitter–are you laughing?” He glared slightly at Morgan.

“Sure you are,” you reached over and patted the top of his hand, you held his gaze for a split second–the both of you trying to hold in your laughter.

You could hear giggling inside. Jack clung to Hotch, he was eight, and yet he still adored his father. The night was young, but starting to grow darker. Today, you had only been called to air a case, so you worked from the office, which you didn’t have the pleasure of doing most days, making it pretty unique.

“Oh, hey guys,” Spencer called, walking up behind you. You frowned, noting his relaxed attire.

“And I didn’t think you owned anything but sweater vests.”

“Oh–you just had to comment.” He sighed.

“That I did,” you nodded, “that I did.”

The front door opened right as Hotch checked his wristwatch, “you guys made it!”

“Would you believe it? Hotch hasn’t canceled yet.”

Your boss glared at you, but your remark earned chuckles from the others, “Yep, and I’ll be late if I don’t leave now.”

JJ stepped out of the house and moved aside, “come on in.” Henry popped his little head out from behind Will and motioned for Jack to follow.

Hotch leaned to the side, eyes only leaving Jack once the boys disappeared behind a corner. “Okay,” JJ approached you, hands on your shoulders, “I am trusting you.”

“Hey–uhm Hi!” Spencer waved, sticking his head over your shoulder, “I’m here too.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m telling her to be careful.”

After a bit of teasing Spencer, Hotch, Will, and JJ left in their cars. “Come, on, it’s freezing out here,” you stuffed your hands into the pockets of your zip-up.

“Let the night begin…”

Spencer stayed, feet glued to the floor for a moment as he watched you wander into the house. He couldn’t help the small smile that grazed his face; he covered it with a hand, closing the door behind him.

Inside you were asking the boys what they wanted to do. Hotch had picked you up from your apartment and you, him, and Jack drove over together–so when Henry suggested the movie theatre, you could only glance at Spencer, wondering if he’d be willing to drive.

He huffed, rolled his eyes, and fell back on the couch in the living room. “We can see what movies are playing, I guess.”

You huffed a laugh and gripped the couch with both hands as you learned over it, watching Jack and Hnery jump on top of Spencer.

“Okay, okay.” He pushed Henry’s foot out of his face and shot you a look when he heard you cover up a snort with a cough.

Upon scrolling through the nearest movie theatre, you found the newest Spider-Man movie was playing, but you had already missed the 7 o’clock one and the next showing was at 8:30. You, Spencer, and the boys agreed to that time, which left you about an hour before you had to leave. Spencer offered to pay and though you had debated with him about going half–he insisted.

You agreed, but only if he let you pay for the snacks. Spencer wasn’t a boyfriend and he wasn’t one of the girls, so it felt weird letting him pay for everything. He was older than you yes, but only by a couple of years, and though you had to remind him of that several times, he never once failed to pull that card over on you.

“What’s that?” Spencer motioned toward the bag you had brought–that you were now unloading on the kitchen counter.

“Ingredients,” you shrugged, “it isn’t real babysitting if you don’t bake something.”

“You bake?” He sat up, throwing something on the television to distract the boys before he made his way toward you.

You brushed it off, “Somewhat.”

“Okay,” he nodded, rounding the counter and meeting your hip with his, “so what are we baking tonight?”

“We?” You raised a brow. He nodded, lips forming a thin line to suppress a grin. “Oh, no,” you huffed a laugh, “we are not–do you even know kitchen etiquette?”

His face scrunched up, “I’m a quick learner.”

“Sarcastic Spencer never fails to amuse me.”

“Mmm,” he nodded, “what’s first?”

You shook your head, a grin escaping you. You snatched the butter he had picked up and smacked him on the shoulder as you went to go find a bow for it, “Wash your hands.” 

“Something smells good.” Jack rounded the counter.

“That would be the cookies.” You spun around and bent to your knees, pulling the oven open. 

“When’s the movie?” Henry came waddling in, Spencer not too far behind.

You glanced at him, expecting him to answer for the both of you. You smiled to yourself, pulling off the oven mitts when he said, “uh…we have about five more minutes before we should leave.”

You nodded and began searching for a container to put the cookies in, “boys, do you wanna go outside and help Uncle Spencer start the car?”

“Awesome!” Henry shouted, running off to find his coat.

“Can we really start the car?” Jack looked between you and Spencer.

“Of course,” you smiled, nodding.

“Cool,” he too ran off.

“If either of them wrecks my car, I’m holding you responsible.” He jabbed a warning finger in your direction.

You scoffed, wiping your hands on a rag, “right. Spencer, you drive a van.”

“An SUV,” he corrected.

“Yeah, well, you don’t seem the type to care about messing things up.”

He held a hand to his chest, mock hurt flashing across his face, “–and what is that supposed to mean.”

You shrugged, but a cheeky smile pulled your lips upward.

“I’ll see you in the car,” he wandered off in search of the boys. You grabbed three cookies and set them aside on a napkin.

When you walked toward the door, you found Spencer and the boys already secure in the car. You locked the door and made your way down the drive.

“I have something delicious,” you handed each boy a cookie, promising to help Spencer clean out his car if it turned out they made a mess.

You took the third cookie and bit into it. Spencer watched you and he pulled off, turning onto the street. He hit a red light when you were halfway done with it, “were you not going to offer to share?”

Your eyebrows shot up momentarily, “you like sweets?”

“Half you met me?” he shot back.

You huffed, yanking his hand from the steering wheel and toward you, placing the cookie into his hand. The light turned green, so he steered with one arm and used his other to eat the cookie. It was a darling sight, truly. You giggled when a few crumbs fell onto the floor.

“I blame you,” he muttered, his mouth full of cookies as he made his proclamation.

Spencer had bought the tickets online, so as you parked, you made a game plan with the boys. Spencer and Henry would go to the bathroom because he forgot to say something back at the house and you and Jack would stand in line. There were a few games around–and of course, the boys asked to play when they saw them–but you only had ten minutes till the movie began, so you promised when the movie was over, you’d stay a bit longer to play.

There were only three lines open and from what you could tell, pretty long. Jack stuffed his hands into his tiny jacket pockets–he looked comfortable. “Do you know what you want to get?”

He pressed his lips together and notably looked around at the freezers and small box-like shelves separating the lines. They were only about two inches higher than him, maybe three or four higher than Henry.

“I’ve never been here.” You frowned. Jack had never been to a movie theatre or he had never been to this theatre? 

“What do you mean?” You stepped forward as the line moved up. A father and his daughter–probably around fourteen–stepped behind you. You took notice, but only because you’ve programmed your brain, they weren’t really important.

Jack shrugged, “What kind of snacks do they have.” You understood Jack didn’t want to speak more on the subject and because you cherished him, you dropped it–but you made a mental note to speak with Hotch about it later.

“Well, I think they have…gummy bears and–oh look–they have cornetto–personally I prefer the cup version–but that’s just me.” Jack laughed and stood on his tippy toes, trying to get a better look at the ice cream flavors.

You caught Spencer walking toward you, Henry skipping a few feet in front of him. He caught your wave and nodded toward Jack, who now stepped to the side of the counter–looking through the glass. “How much time do we have?”

Spencer checked his watch once more, his casual attire contrasting. He wore his glasses–which you absolutely adored–a pair of blue jeans substituted his normal khakis, and he wore a black hoodie with red writing on the back. He wore tenashoes instead of his work shoes and his silly socks were hidden beneath the fabric of his jeans. It made you frown slightly: you couldn’t tease him about it.

“Do you want anything?” You asked as the boys began listing off candy to the cashier.

“No, I’m good.” He shook his head, stuffing his hands into the singular pocket of his hoodie.

“Wanna share a bowl of popcorn?” You pleaded and eventually, he gave in.

You asked for two smaller bowls so you could split the large bowl between you, Spencer, and the boys. Spencer physically winced when you swiped your card–you saw it happen. It sent a flutter through you and your face reddened as much as it could. You covered it up with a laugh, hoping Spencer didn’t find it weird, though the look he threw you said otherwise.

You found your seats, the boys settled in the middle of the two of you. You separated the popcorn between the boys, but then realized it’d be an issue sharing with Spencer if he was all the way on the other side, so instead, you gave him one of the smaller bowls, filled his and Hnery’s, and shared the big bowl with Jack.

You made it in time for the credits which you hated, but Spencer loved. It put a goofy smile on his face as he explained every ad,s aying how they were trying to tug at your heartstrings or logical side. “But we’re too smart, aren’t we?” He met your gaze.

The boys turned toward you, where you now adorned a serious nod, “oh, yeah, we’re way too smart to fall fo that, right boys?” 

“Yep!” they nodded triumphantly. 

“And why is that?” Spencer rounded the question back to him.

“Because we’re profilers,” Jack asked hesitantly.

“Exactly,” you jabbed a finger at him, messing with his hair a little. He laughed and leaned away, pushing your hand toward the popcorn bowl.

Spencer watched you–but not just your person. He wanted your actions, your facial expression, the way you interacted and spoke to Jack, the way you joked with Henry, the way you took every opportunity you could to tease him about absolutely anything. 

He felt his heart tense and then fall to his stomach once he realized what was occurring. Was he falling in love? Was this what that feeling was? Was this how falling in love happened? You noticed minuscule, insignificant things about a person like the way they laughed? Or the way smiled? You analyzed them so thoroughly that you could tell what they would say before they said it. Or know the action they’re about to take before they make it?

He couldn’t tell. Spencer had never been in love before. He had never fallen in love. But was that what this was? He didn’t have a definitive answer, he just knew he wanted to be closer. To you. To you in every way. He wanted you to want to be close to him and he wondered if that was love.

Because if it was, wouldn’t that mean he’d already fallen? But it didn’t feel right.  It felt…like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Like he had been searching for an answer he knew was somewhere in his brain, but hadn’t figured it out until just now.

The movie played and he tried his best to watch it–he grasped the general concept, but he was more focused on, well, you.

Did he love you? Could he say that with genuine confidence? He wouldn’t know until he tried it out, but he couldn’t. Because what if he didn’t? What if what he felt for you was simply pure friendship–he’d be making a crucial mistake, one) if you didn’t like him you’d be weirded out and if you did he chanced hurting you, two) you worked together, that was an issue in and of itself.

He jumped when you stood, watching as you stretched. “What?” You raised a brow, a tired smile forming you mouth.

He found himself smiling back, his stomach flipping, “nothing. Just…tired.”

“Ugh,” you rolled your eyes, yawning, “me too. We should head back now, it’s pretty late. We need to take them baths.”

“Yeah,” Spencer glanced at Jack, who was now standing, and Henry, who was fast asleep in his seat.

Spencer tried waking him slightly, but he wasn’t budging, “just carry him,” you suggested.

Deciding it was the only option, Spencer gripped Henry’s armpits and heaved him upward as gently as he could. You watched him as he laid Hnery’s head on his shoulder, the boy snuggling into the crook of his neck, hugging your coworker tightly. 

“Awww,” you sounded like Penelope but you didn’t care, this was too cute a moment not to capture. Whipping out your phone, you ignored Spencer’s pleas and snapped multiple photos from every angle.

Heading to the lobby of the theatre, you nudged Jack, “I’m guessing you don’t want to play some of the games anymore?”

Jack shook his head and rubbed his eyes, “no. m’just tired.”

You nodded, pulling him into your side as you walked, “Me too, buddy, me too.”

You passed an elderly couple on the way out, Henry slightly waking up when the cold air hit his face. “Are we home?” He asked.

The elderly couple snickered and said, “You’re a cute family.”

You opened your mouth to correct the woman, but her husband added, “You look just like we did, don’t they?” before you could. He turned to his wife, made clear by the matching rings.

“Oh, they do,” then she bent over and asked Jack, “What movie did your mommy and daddy take you to see.”

Instead of correcting the couple, Jack glanced at you, then Spencer, and grinned–though it was sleepy– “Spider-Man 2.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I haven’t seen that one, is it good?”

“Really good,” Henry answered from Spencer’s arms.

They laughed again, then apologized for keeping you and made their way inside.

You and Spencer said nothing as you made your way to the car. Jack and Henry were silent as well. You wondered just what was going through Jack’s head. Maybe he was too tired to understand or care about the women’s words. Yeah, that must have been it.

You decided you would ignore it just as you would ignore the flutter that continuously courced through you the entirety of the night.

With much prodding, you were able to get Henry into the bath. Jack didn’t take much convincing, but he assured you he could do it himself, which you shouldn’t have believed because he ended up getting shampoo into his eyes.

Spencer finished helping him, though it was hard because Jack insisted on showering. Eventually, the two boys were tucked into Henry’s twin-sized bed, and you and Spencer had a little free time before the others arrived.

You grabbed the bowl of cookies that you’d tucked on the counter near the fridge before you’d left. You meant to eat them at the kitchen counter, but Spencer wanted you to watch some movie he had put on. You would blame and hold him responsible for any crumbs that didn’t land in the bowl.

His chuckle was low and light, just like every other time you found yourself making him laugh. It sent a flutter through your chest and you had to turn away to keep from letting him know just how flustered that one sound could make you.

You shivered, you typically brought a sweater with you everywhere just in case, but you were going to JJ’s house, and you knew she’d let you borrow a few blankets. 

“Where are you going?” Spencer caught your wrist as you stood. Your heart jolted and you couldn’t help but stare at it. You blinked a few times before he let go. He sucked in a breath as if you’d stung him. You weren’t sure what he meant by that or if he meant anything at all by it. Spencer was normally an awkward person, but this didn’t feel like something he’d be awkward about, in fact, Spencer would never be put in this situation simply because Spencer hated physical contact.

Maybe that’s why he had such a reaction. You brushed it off, letting a shy smile replace the longing frown, “Just the hall closet to find a blanket…want one?”

Spencer shook his head and wanting to escape the atmosphere, you bottled toward the hall. You retrieved the first blanket on top. It was white with little blue bunnies. Cute. You thought, it must be Henry’s. 

“I’m back,” you hopped on the couch, keeping a cushion between the two of you, for fear of making him uncomfortable.

He declined your offer of a cookie and opted to lean back. It might have just been your imagination, but you were sure Spencer kept sneaking glances at you. You thought he must be bored, he’d put on a '90s romcom. Though you loved the, you were surprised when Spencer put it on. But then maybe he put it on for you and that’s why he kept glancing at you.

You huffed under a cookie, that’s so like him. 

Halfway through the movie, you’d discarded the bowl of cookies with four left and began to feel the lights dim. Or maybe it was just you. You took a moment and laid your head back but it was uncomfortable. As you shifted on the couch, a yawn escaped you. 

Spencer caught it, attention now fully focused on you, he smiled at your dreary state. He moved one leg under him and without really thinking much about it–if it’d make you uneasy or not–he took you by the shoulders and lowered your head into his lap. You noticed, but barely. He pulled the blanket over you as your arms wrapped around his thigh. Your head snuggled into him and when a satisfactory hmm released itself from your throat, he snorted a little. 

He loved you, or at least he thought he did. Spencer had never loved anyone. Well, he loved his mom, but he knew he was programmed that way. He loved quantum physics and math and chemistry and psychology, but those were very broad terms, and still not a being. He liked cats, but he couldn’t love a cat–well, he could–but that was a different discussion.

You, on the other hand, he always wanted to be around. You, on the other hand, he always wanted to talk to. You, he fell asleep thinking about; you, he dreamt about; you, he woke up to.

You were always on his mind, there was no way around it. In every conversation–though he rarely voiced it–he could always draw back to you. Penelope bought a new pink fluffy pen? You loved pens. Dereck couldn’t sleep at night because of his neighbor. You could sleep anywhere–it was a skill. Spencer couldn’t sleep at all, really, and when he did–well, he’d already know what he’d dream about.

He couldn’t escape you–but well, he didn’t want to.

The biggest evidence of his feelings for you? He hated–absolutely loathed–the thought of you talking to/dating/marrying anywhere else. He made a face, the thought disgusted him;; it made him sick.

The front door unlocking jolted him out of his thoughts… how long had he sat there watching you? Going back and forth in is mind? His mind began wondering and the lights began to fade. His shoulder drooped and he began pushing you backward, fixing you until you were both comfortable. 

“Just for…a bit…” he yawned before the lights went out.

Spencer jerked when he heard the front door unlock. He was always keenly aware of his surroundings–it was a bad habit he picked up in his years at the BAU.

JJ and Will stepped through the door as quietly as they could, the credits were rolling. The movie must have just ended. 48 minutes?

“Hey–” JJ whispered walking toward him.

He rubbed his eyes and tried to sit up, but was weighed down, and upon looking–found you still sound asleep. He smiled, but when he realized JJ could see him, he fixed it to a plain expression.

Spencer held up a hand and pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes widened slightly in concern when he looked down at you. Which was ridiculous, he couldn’t stay in this position the entire night, much less on JJ’s couch. You both had work in the morning and you needed to get home. Right…but where was Hotch? How would you get home?

He was startled by your shifting movements. Upon glancing at you again, he found you stirring. JJ covered up a small laugh, and turned back to Will, shushing him as he stalked over.

“Hotch texted, he should be here soon,” JJ whispered.

Spencer nodded as you lifted your head, he raised his arms just enough for you to have free reign, if you pushed out of his hold, he’d have no choice but to let go.

But you didn’t, you pulled him closer and buried your face into where his thigh met his hip. “Five more minutes.”

JJ snatched her phone from her pocket and began snickering, “Penelope is going to love this.”

“Hey–come on, JJ–don’t–” Spencer’s protests went ignored as JJ clicked a few photos and slipped her phone back into the back pocket of her jeans.

A knock sounded on the door not a moment later, Will went to open it while JJ sat on the arm of the couch and smiled down at her two coworkers. “Do you think she can hear us?”

Spencer opened his mouth to say no, but raised a brow and glanced at you questioningly, he wasn’t sure you knew where you were, let alone could make sense of a complete sentence. “I’m gonna go with probably not.”

They chuckled to themselves. Hotch waved, before following Will down the hall toward Henry’s room. You yawned and rolled onto your back, stretching over Spencer. “Hi,” you blinked up, a slow smile turning up your lips.

He met your sleepy gaze with one of his own, “hi,” he answered.

Hotch came back out with a very asleep Jack, calling out your name, You sighed, forcing yourself upward. “Guess I better go.”

Once again, Spencer felt his subconscious take hold of his body as he held an arm across your stomach, “I could take you…I mean I wouldn’t mind, besides,” he nodded toward Hotch and Jack, “he should get Jack home.”

JJ watched in silent awe. It was one thing for Spencer to shake hands with someone let alone hug them, so when she stepped through her doors and found you snuggled up to him, her suspicion-radar was going off. Spencer definitely had a thing for you, or at the very least felt most comfortable with you. In her mind, you were his person, and that didn’t have to be romantic, it was just how it was.

Now, though, watching his eyes, there was no doubt in her mind. Spencer Reid was in love. She wondered what kind of catastrophic event occurred for this to happen.

“You sure?” You murmured, rubbing your eyes. You were halfway leaning against his chest, and halfway using his shoulder to stay steady.

“Yeah, of course.”

Hotch seemed to get the gist of the conversation, whispered a few goodbyes, and headed out the door.

“You made cookies,” JJa noted.

“Yep, there’s four left, but they’re probably all stale now.”

“Well, maybe you two can babysit again and make me fresh ones.”

“I helped, you know,” Spencer added.

“Yeah, ‘helped’ so much I almost had to buy you a new pan.” After a good laugh, you stood and stretched, catching Spencer’s yawn, “well, it’s getting pretty late, we should head out.”

“Alright then, drive safe.”

“I’m always a safe driver.”

“I know you are, Spence.” She pressed her lips together, glancing at you, wondering if you even felt a smidgen of what Spencer felt for you.

The car ride was smooth, Spencer had been over a few times, and with his memory, he knew the way by heart. “Thanks for doing this.” You grabbed his hand as he pulled into your complex.

Spencer jolted, his head jerked down: his focus on where your hands connected. “Oh–sorry, I forgot–”

You snatched your hand away, but Spencer was quick to grab it back. “No–no it’s…” he stared at you. He could lose his mind and still be able to put a name to your eyes. They were like none he’d ever seen–which is opinionated, of course, in his mind, you were all there ever was. “It’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” You frowned, “I…know how you hate people touching you.”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugged sheepishly, “but when it’s you it’s okay.”

Your heart leaped at that and maybe it was because you were half-awake and when you were half-wake you became even more delusional than you were daily. “So, you don’t mind if I touch you?”

“No, not at all.” He replied immediately as if he had been programmed to.

You couldn’t help the goofy grin that made its way onto your face, “good to know.”

You opened the car door and started exiting his vehicle. “Hey, —?”

“Yeah?” You yawned again, the sky a blue-black kind of color.

“What does that mean?”

“What does what mean?” You frowned.

“You know,” he tried motioning with his hands, which only made you snort.

“Nope,” you shook your head, “no idea.” You spun around, starting the path to your apartment, “see you tomorrow, Spencer.”

Spencer frowned, he knew he would think about this the rest of the night, if he could sleep he’d probably dream about it, and when he woke up, it would most definitely be the first thing on his mind.

a/n: lol i've been working on this forever (like a month) and i cried in my maths a few days ago because i couldn't understand it–#mathisnotforme

@darkmatilda @theylovemelody

[selfloverrrrrr]

hey bae , this is my first time making a req 😭🙏🏻 , so i was thinking about where y/n is a prisoner sent to an all male prison and geto/gojo is the chief security guard who works there. he is very attracted to y/n and at night he goes non con y/n

i love your fanfic btw ❤️

Prisoner~

Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, Noncon, revenge, prisoner reader, chief secretary guard Gojo, physically and emotional abuse, biting, torture, size difference....

( All characters are aged up/18+)

Minors Do Not Interact

Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report

Y/n's POV

This shitty people can't even investigate a case properly. First they put me in for the time crime I never did and now they're moving me to another jail?! The iron gates of Blackwood Prison creaked shut behind me, I found myself enveloped in a world dominated by rough faces and even rougher hands. I was the only woman among hundreds of convicts, a fact that made me stand out like a sore thumb.

The first few days were a blur of harsh fluorescent lights, cold meals, and the constant hum of male voices echoing through the concrete hallways. I kept my head down, learning the routines quickly - lights out at 10 PM sharp, wake-up call at 6 AM.

One evening, during dinner in the massive cafeteria, I felt eyes burning into my back. I turned slightly to see one of the guards standing against the wall. His name tag said 'Gojo'. He was tall, muscular, with an aura that demanded attention. His blue eyes seemed to follow my every movement.

As the days wore on, I started noticing Gojo everywhere. He seemed assigned to my wing more frequently than the other guards. Each time our paths crossed, his gaze lingered, a flicker of something - admiration? - passing through his steely expression before he quickly looked away.

One crisp autumn night, as the prison settled into uneasy quiet, I lay on my narrow bunk, straining to hear the faint scrape of metal against metal. Suddenly, my cell door clicked open. Gojo stood there, silhouetted against the dim hallway light, his muscular frame filling the doorway.

He stepped inside, closing the door behind him with a soft thud. His boots echoed on the cold floor as he approached my bunk. He didn't say a word, just reached out and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards him.

"what are you doing?! why are you even here?!" I asked being shocked. Gojo smirked. His grip tightened. "Easy," he said softly, his voice low and urgent. "Thought you might need...company. It's tough being the only woman here"

"what do you mean?" I asked."You know exactly what I mean," he whispered, his face inches from mine. His hand moved to my waist possessively. "Being surrounded by all these hungry eyes...you must be tired of the constant stares, the unwanted attention." He paused, his thumb tracing circles on my hipbone. "I could..."

"I could make them all disappear," Gojo murmured, leaning in closer. His breath was warm against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. "You'd be mine, and only mine. No one else would dare to look at you, let alone touch you." He desperately whispered in my ear.

"y-you should go" I said. "Should I?" Gojo chuckled. And I didn't notice when his fingers start to unbuckle my belt. "You really want me to leave you here all alone, with those little shits inmate dreaming about getting their hands on you?" He paused, his hands pausing at the button of my pants.

"w-what are you doing w-wai-" I finally realised but Gojo cut me off with a firm kiss, his lips crashing against mine. He pinned me against the bunk, his hands roaming over my body as he effortlessly pushed my pants down. I was about to protest when "Shh," he murmured against my lips. "Just let me take care of you tonight."

"N-No....leave or I'll tell the other officers" I said. Gojo pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire. "Go ahead," he said confidently, his hand sliding into my underwear. "Who do you think they'll believe? The quiet little prisoner or the chief security guard?" He started to caress me slowly.

And I couldn't reply. I was silent. "Exactly," Gojo whispered, his fingers exploring further as he hooked his legs around mine to keep me from kicking him off. "Now, be a good girl and stay quiet," he warned, his other hand reaching up to cover my mouth. "Or I'll have to gag you..."

"please leave me I don't want this." I begged. Gojo's smirk widened. "Too good for a criminal's touch?" He pulled his hands away suddenly, his voice harsh. "Maybe I should make you scream instead. Give the guys out there what they've all been dreaming of." He unbuckled his belt threateningly. "Answer me honestly - do you want this or not?"

"I don't.... P-Please" I said. His expression softened slightly at the plea, but his hand remained on his belt. "You're making the wrong choice," he said softly, leaning in close. "You don't know those men they're ready to get their hands on you any time they want. Just for pleasure" His fingers traced my neck possessively. "I don't want you just for pleasure.... I want you permanently....all mine" he whispered.

Fear grabbed me by my neck. I couldn't even think anything when suddenly he kissed me again. He deepened the kiss forcefully, his tongue invading my mouth as he pressed his body against mine. His hands released my wrists to roam my body again, gripping and squeezing roughly. He only broke the kiss to start unbuttoning his shirt with one hand, the other still holding my head in place.

he took off his shirt and threw it on the floor. Gojo leaned down to capture my mouth again, his bare chest pressing against mine as he pinned me beneath him. His calloused hands explored my body roughly, leaving red marks in their wake. He broke the kiss again to nip and suck at my neck, marking me possessively.

Then he tore off my shirt. I wasn't wearing any bra. "You're fucking hotttt," he muttered, eyes darkening as he took in my exposed body. His rough hands traced my curves before moving to my breasts, squeezing and kneading. He lowered his head to capture one nipple in his mouth, sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other.

"P-Please stop" I begged. "Too late for that," Gojo muttered, releasing my nipple with a pop. He raised his head to look at me, taking in my scared expression and half-naked body. He grabbed my pants and pulled it down with my panties. "Spread your legs," he ordered softly, his voice lower than before.

I didn't do anything. I was too scared. Gojo growled in frustration as I refused to comply. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "I said, spread your fucking legs," he repeated, more forcefully this time. With lightning speed, he grabbed both my thighs and forcibly pushed them apart, settling himself between them.

I cried out. He unbuckled his belt and pants with one hand, kicking them off his legs. He was left in just his boxers, the bulge prominent. He hooked his arms under my knees, pulling my legs up and back, exposing me completely.

Gojo shoved his boxers down, freeing his rigid cock. Without hesitation, he thrust forward, brutally piercing into my pussy. He groaned loudly, not caring if the entire jail heard my screams. "Fuck, so tight..." he grunted, starting to pump into me violently.

Gojo reached between my legs to rub my clit roughly, the stimulation making my cries even more desperate. He fucked me mercilessly, his cock pounding into my pussy like a jackhammer.I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.

I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. Suddenly I felt his teeth gazing at my neck. "No no no d-don't please don't Mark me please " I cried out. He just ignored my please and bite my neck harshly. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He was panting.

He sits on the floor. The sound of his panting filled the room. Suddenly he started laughing. "I've heard you're in jail for a crime you didn't even. And you also don't have any family to help you.... and also I've heard that you are going out of jail this year. Don't worry darling, I know how to make you permanently MINE" He said darkly.

Give me your requests guys....

I love when you give me your requests 💕

[dickgraysonisnothereforthis]

Jason Todd x gn mean!reader

I love you mean!reader take jason by the balls like he deserves

(Short, fluff, established relationship)

Swearing, no use of y/n

———

“Shit.” The knife slips off the onion yet again and Jason feels like driving it into the countertop. Instead, he takes another go at the onion and almost nicks his finger.

He throws the knife onto the cutting board with a clatter. This is so fucking stupid. Jason is exhausted and starving and at his wit’s end. All he wants is to make himself some pasta, why can’t he cut this goddamn onion?

It isn’t helping that he came home pissed to begin with. The night was a complete waste of his time. He’s spent weeks sniffing around for one of Bane’s weapons shipments and finally tracked it down to a warehouse on the south side. Jason had got himself all gussied up to go in guns blazing, but he kicked in the door of an empty warehouse. They had already cleared the fuck out, they were one step ahead of him. It was so goddamn embarrassing, all he could do was shuffle home in the rain and try not to picture how Bane was probably laughing at him.

And now even this onion is getting the best of him. Can’t Jason have anything?

He perks up as he hears the clank of your key in the lock. You’re home, thank god. He abandons the onion and goes to meet you at the door.

“Hey, babe.” Your cheeks are pink from the cold. Jason ignores your words and pulls you into his arms, jamming his face into your neck. Your hand comes up to card through his hair. “Huh. Rough night?”

He grunts, and you huff out a laugh. “Aw, poor baby.”

“It was so fucking stupid,” he mutters. “How was your work dinner?”

“Fine. Nothing to report. Drinks went on forever.” You slide your fingers under his shirt and pinch at his waist. “You eat yet?”

“Hm.” He bites lightly at your neck. You tug sharply at his hair. “C’mon, Jay, you have to eat.” You gently shove him aside so you can slip out of your coat and slip off your shoes.

“‘M trying to,” he sulks.

You raise your eyebrows. “Well, what does that mean?”

He sighs, gesturing toward the kitchen, and you go investigate. “Couldn’t cut the fucking onion,” he grumbles. It’s so annoying; normally he’s not a complete idiot in the kitchen, but tonight his skills are failing him.

“Ah,” you say as you approach the cutting board. “Well, unfortunately, you’ve done it wrong.” You take his place at the countertop. Grabbing the knife, you hold it to the onion but then stop, turning to squint at him. “You want me to do it?”

Jason looks at you blankly. You nod. “You want me to show you how to do it or just do it?”

He smiles ruefully. “Good.” You start slicing. “Didn’t want to teach you anything, anyway.”

Jason sighs contentedly, putting his arms around your waist and leaning into your back. Your work steadily for a few minutes, before nudging him with your shoulder. “What were you going to put in the sauce?”

“Garlic,” Jason shrugs. “Onion.”

“Hm. It would be better with cherry tomatoes. And white wine.”

“Mm.”

“Go get the tomatoes. And the wine from the fridge,” you order. Jason blows meaningfully at your neck. “Please,” you add.

Jason knocks his head lightly against yours, then goes to get the requested ingredients. Soon, you’re frying up the onions, garlic, and tomatoes, pouring in some white wine, and setting some water to boil. Jason half-heartedly offers to help, but you take one look at him and wave him off. Fifteen minutes later you’re handing him a fork and sliding a bowl of pasta his way.

He digs in hastily. “Thanks, babe.”

You smile in satisfaction, stealing his fork to take a bite. “Hm. Pretty good.”

Jason wolfs it down before getting up for seconds. He grins at you, and you smile softly back. “Fuckin’ delicious.”

“Damn right. I’m gonna shower.” You move toward the bedroom, pulling your shirt over head. Jason gets momentarily distracted by your bare skin.

“Tsk.” He glances at your face, you’re smirking at him. “Eyes up here, big guy.”

“Can’t blame me for lookin’, sweetheart.” Jason smiles cockily at you, and you roll your eyes.

“Finish your dinner.” You turn back to the bathroom.

He picks up his fork. “I’m cleaning up,” he offers.

“You bet you are.” Jason grins cheekily, and you disappear into the bathroom.

———

He needs to be bullied.

[lila-went-missing]

reader AND vis first time

I saw this and got so excited to write it I'm not even gonna lie.

Warnings: Smut (duh), fluff at the end, switch Vi (kinda), body worship. Lmk if I missed anything.

Vi's body slotted perfectly on top of yours, like two pieces that were missing from a puzzle.

Her weight on top of you quickly turned into one of your favorite sensations. Her chest pressed against yours. That's exactly where she is now. Her arms rest on either side of your head, one hand cupping your cheek. Your tongues slide against each other in a sloppy but unbelievably passionate kiss.

You gasp as her knee presses against you.

"Fuck, VI." She breathes out a chuckle against your lips.

"Feel good Cupcake?"

"Mhm.." Her mouth moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point. A hand grips your hip and pulls you up against her.

Her own shirt is thrown off somewhere, you don't bother looking where. Not when her bare chest is right in front of your face. You sit up, legs caging her in. You pull her waist up against you and attach your lips to one of her nipples.

You lick and suck, pinching the other with your hand. Hickies are sucked into the surrounding skin. Vi isn't a super vocal person, usually letting out small grunts and huffs. But now whimpering more than you've ever heard her. You would've done this a long time ago if you had known her tits were this sensitive.

"Mmh shit Cupcake, keep doing that."

How could you ever say no to her?" You switch your mouth and hand sides, giving her exactly what she wants. Her hand cradles the back of your head, short nails scratching at your scalp.

After a few seconds she pulls you away, attaching her mouth back to yours. Your hands grope at her tits, unable to pull away.

"I've never- I've never done this before." She tells you. It's not often you see Vi looking nervous, but right now, she does.

"Me neither." You tell her. Something in her face changes and you can tell she isn't as worried. "We can go slow." Your hands slow down with your words, as if proving it.

She nods and crawls back on top of you, slower this time. It's nice, not as rushed. The feeling of her body relaxed against you makes you happier than anything else has in a while. You're more aware of how warm she is, how soft her skin is.

She pulls your own shirt over your head. Her hands drag over your body with more appreciation than you've ever felt from a man. Probably why you always left them way before anything started.

"You're so beautiful, baby." She eyes your chest before showing you the same attention you showed her. It's your turn to run your hand through her hair, lightly pulling it.

She works her hands at your belt, pulling your pants down your legs.

"Can I taste you, baby? Please?" You can't deny her anything, especially not with that desperate and whiny tone in her voice.

You nod but she's already pulling your panties down and diving her tongue into your pussy. Her hands wrap around her thighs, your thighs wrap around her head. She decides then and there that if she ever were to suffocate, this is how she would want to go out.

You've never felt anything like this. There's a warmth in your belly pulling tight as she goes. Her tongues switch's between kitten licking and suckling at your clit to fucking against your g-spot inside of you.

Time ceases to exist, she could've spent anywhere from a minute to a thousand years between your legs. You wouldn't know the difference.

Just when that coil is about to snap, she's pulling back and licking her lips.

"Vi..." Any other time you'd be embarrassed of how whiny you are, but not tonight. She's slipping her own bottoms off and slotting her legs in between yours.

"I want you to come against my pussy." She mutters against your lips.

Holy shit.

Those might be the hottest words you've ever heard in your life but you wouldn't know. Because the second her clit catches against yours you lose any memory that she isn't in.

It's fiery in a way you've never felt. The pleasure is all consuming, wrapping around your limbs pulling you into her. Your hands grab her hips, keeping her up against you. Your own hips buck up into her, amplifying the pleasure.

"Oh my- gosh Violet." You choke out. Her own voice is whimpering out. You hear the word "fuck" multiple times.

"Oh, Cupcake please.. you're so wet, fuck baby. You feel so good."

You throw your head back into the pillows. You wanted to last a lot longer than this but that's just not possible. Not with the way she's grinding her dripping pussy against yours. The sound of your juices mixing together is so lewd it throws you over the edge.

"You gonna cum for me? Come on, cum on my fucking pussy baby. Let me have it."

You don't remember anything that you say. Your orgasm is so powerful that you black out. You faintly hear the words coming out of her own mouth, but you know she's having an orgasm just as powerful.

She falls on top of you, arms wrapping around your waist. Yours come up around her back. You trace the ink of her tattoo, more content than you've been in a while.

Her lips press into your neck. It isn't sexual, just loving. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"I love you." You tell her, honestly.

"I love you." You know she's being honest too.

[etherealeowyn]

"The stars are bright tonight, aren't they? - Johnny Storm x Reader

Y/n lay in bed, wrapped up in the soft white comforter draped over her and Johnny. It was getting late; however, she couldn’t feel any sleep falling over her, rather her mind was swirling with so many thoughts, most of which revolved around her work.

“Hey Johnny,” she spoke softly, hoping he hadn’t fallen asleep yet.

“What’s up darling,” he responded, rolling over to face her.

“I can’t sleep,” Y/n said, and he slightly pouted at the woman.

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he replied, “I’m struggling to fall asleep myself. Why don’t we go up to the roof and stargaze? I know that always tends to help us relax.”

Nodding, Y/n sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed before sliding on her baby blue slippers. They went perfectly with the flowy baby doll nightgown she wore; a gift Johnny had gotten her.

His hand found the small of her back as he followed her to the stairs leading to the roof. Y/n loved it when he did this, it was such a simple gesture, yet at the same time, the contact caused her cheeks to blush almost instantaneously.

“Ladies first,” Johnny smiled, holding the door open for Y/n to walk through.

The pair walked over to the outdoor couch, and as they sat down, Johnny pulled his girlfriend closer to his body knowing she was always more comfortable when there was little space between them.

Their heads were angled towards the clear vast sky, speckled with thousands of stars since it was a clear night.

“The stars are bright tonight, aren’t they?” Johnny asked, placing a kiss on the top of Y/n’s head, which was resting on his shoulder.

“Not as bright as you love,” she whispered, letting a smirk pull at the corners of her lips.

It was an incredibly cheesy line, however, Johnny found it to be charming coming out of her mouth. So much so that he shifted his body and gently grabbed her face so that he could connect his lips to hers. The kiss only lasted a short period of time, because Y/n couldn’t help but smile in the middle of it.

“Hey, what are you smiling for?” Johnny laughed, wanting the kiss to last longer, but at the same time, he could stare at Y/n forever because her smile was gorgeous.

“I’m just so happy that I could hardly contain it,” she giggled, her cheeks turning a rosy shade of pink.

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m so happy I could kiss you… again,” he replied, playfully winking at the woman.

“Then what are you waiting for,” Y/n challenged, wrapping her arms around Johnny’s neck, and looking up into his blue eyes through her eyelashes.

He didn’t hesitate before crashing his lips into hers, indulging in the moment they shared.

[mattscoquette]

https://www.tumblr.com/mattscoquette/775067200806666240/httpswwwtumblrcommattscoquette77506632982275

i know u said u dont have it in u for a while but please. just a lil blurb of the freaky sex. please. 😔

okay this isn’t a real blurb i’m winging this as i go bare with me

your back arched up off the mattress as matt’s long, slender fingers slide in and out of your slick folds, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit. he had already denied you out of two orgasms, and he wasn’t letting up any time soon.

“please daddy,” you whimpered, your voice trembling, “need you now.”

matt snickered, grinning up at you from in between your legs.

“princess,” he tsked, “only good girls get what they want. doesn’t feel nice being teased, does it?”

you whined in response, your stomach tightening in knots as your brows furrowed, matt’s fingers fucking up into you at the perfect pace. you knew any second now you would snap, but before you could, matt’s fingers were fully pulled out of you.

he slowly pulled himself up from between your legs, hovering over you as his digits traced lightly over the skin of your inner thighs.

“now, sweetheart,” he began, his voice low and sultry, “if you want to cum tonight, you’re going to do everything i tell you to. understand?”

you looked up at him wide eyed as you nodded, the tone of his voice alone making you grow even more wet. he smirked as he sat back on his knees, taking off his shirt before leaning back down, trailing kisses down your stomach and thighs.

“good girl,” he muttered, “daddy’s gonna make you feel so good.”

[aajjks]

The conqueror (XXVI)

synopsis. He had conquered everything. Anything but your heart.

pairings: yandere king!jungkook x fem!reader ft. Shuhua of g-idle

warnings. ôrâl sëx (fêm!rëcëïvïng), 18+ smût, èxplïcït thëmës, yândërë, óbsëssïón, psÿchótïc sêxûâl dësírës, nóncón, dárk thèmès.

note. This is just a start. mark my words.. but be careful of Meilin. Please share feedback and talk to these new characters in TC too… we’re finally getting what we want. ENJOY AND SHARE FEEDBACK.

series masterlist

•••

The night is restless.

Jungkook sits alone in his chambers, his back against the grand throne-like chair near the fireplace.

The flames flicker, they are highlighting the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers drum impatiently against the armrest.

His robe hangs loosely around him, his chest exposed, rising and falling with deep, measured breaths.

He’s been waiting for you. Like he told you tonight he hopes that you will listen to him and obey him.

But patience is not his virtue.

His wine sits untouched. His thoughts are a mess, spiraling, drowning in one infuriating truth.

You did not come to him.

He waits— because surely, you wouldn’t dare.

Surely, you wouldn’t test him like this.

But as the minutes stretch into hours, something dark unravels in his chest, tight, squeezing until his breath comes heavier.

He is the King of Goryeo. The world bends to his will.

And yet, his own wife is rejecting him.

A muscle in his jaw ticks as he finally stands, slow and deliberate. His fingers flex at his sides, his patience stretched to its limit.

The silk of his robe brushes against his skin as he moves, but it does little to soothe the heat simmering beneath it.

His steps are heavy as he leaves his chamber.

The halls feel too quiet, too still— his guards straighten as he passes, though none dare meet his eyes.

His presence alone is thunderous, crackling with the kind of storm that promises destruction. You are a bitch and he’s had enough.

He reaches your chamber.

And his blood boils.

The doors swing open violently, the wood crashing against the walls, making you jolt awake.

Your breath is sharp, startled— but you barely have a moment to react before he’s upon you.

“You dare,” he breathes, his voice deadly soft, vibrating with fury. “You dare defy me?”

His fingers curl around your wrist, dragging you out of bed with effortless strength.

“Jungkook- y-your majesty-;”

Your voice is small, lost beneath the weight of his presence. The heat of his body is suffocating, the scent of him.. spiced, dark, masculine— wrapping around you like a noose.

“You were meant to come to me,” he growls, his face inches from yours.

“Yet I find you here, sleeping. As if I am not your king.”

His grip tightens, not enough to hurt, but enough to remind you of exactly who he is.

Jungkook’s chest rises and falls with deep, controlled breaths, but inside?

inside, he is unraveling.

He is a man worshipped. Feared.

Men kneel before him, beg for his mercy, offer their kingdoms at his feet.

But you?

You deny him.

It’s maddening. It’s intoxicating. It makes him want to devour you whole.

His fingers loosen, but only so he can tilt your chin up, forcing you to look at him. His dark gaze is endless, swirling with something primal, something raw.

“You test me, my love,” he murmurs, his voice no longer sharp with anger, but thick with something else entirely.

Desperation.

Need.

Possession.

His thumb drags along your jaw, slow, deliberate, as he exhales shakily.

“I have brought entire kingdoms to their knees,” he whispers, his lips grazing your temple, his breath hot against your skin.

“I have crushed armies, made emperors kneel in my presence.”

Then, his lips brush against your ear, his voice dropping into something dark and sinful.

“But you—;”

He pulls back, his gaze burning into yours.

“You are the only one who has ever brought me to my knees.”

And then—

Jungkook drops.

The King of Goryeo is kneeling before you.

Your breath stutters.

His hands slide over your hips, slow and reverent, his fingers digging in just enough to make your skin tingle.

His touch is fire, his grip both gentle and possessive, like he is holding something sacred—something he is not ready to let go of.

“Look at me, baby,” he murmurs, voice rough, thick with raw emotion.

“Do you know what you’ve done to me?”

His lips part as he leans forward, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin.

Then—

The first kiss.

Soft. Featherlight. A mere tingle against your knee.

Jungkook hums low, deep in his chest, the sound vibrating against your skin. His hands trail down the sides of your legs, slow, deliberate, as his lips press again— hotter this time, lingering.

“mmh,” he exhales, his voice laced with something sinful. His fingers tighten against your thighs, his lips trailing lower, teasing, tasting.

“Do you feel it?” he breathes against your skin. “The way I burn for you?”

His mouth moves higher, then lower, never where you expect— never where you need. His teeth graze your inner thigh, just barely, sending a shiver up your spine.

“You will not deny me again, my love,” he rasps, his voice hoarse, desperate. “You are mine.”

His lips part against your skin, his tongue flicking out, tasting, teasing.

“Say it,” he growls. “Say that you’re mine.”

And for the first time—

You don’t know if you can resist him.

•••

You can’t believe… him. You don’t believe what is happening right now because you simply do not want to.

Your brain is not working.

The air in the chamber is heavy.

All you can feel is your body burning up right now.

Your skin burns where his hands have touched, where his lips have ghosted against you. The heat coils in your stomach, twisting, betraying you with its intensity.

Jungkook is still on his knees before you. The King of Goryeo.

Your husband.

And he is looking at you like a starving man.

You can hardly breathe. His presence alone takes up all the air, leaving none for you, suffocating in the most intoxicating way. Your pulse pounds in your ears, a frantic drumbeat against the unbearable silence stretching between you.

But there is no silence—not really.

Not with the way he exhales so slowly, his breath fanning over your skin, his fingers tightening on your thighs like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he lets go. Not with the way the soft hum of satisfaction leaves his lips when he presses another kiss— hotter, wetter— just above your knee.

“Jungkook…” You whisper his name without thinking.

His fingers flex. His head tilts just slightly, his dark eyes flicking up to yours. He looks ruined—his lips parted, his pupils blown, his expression so intense that it makes your stomach clench.

And then, his voice.

“S-Stop.

“Again,” he rasps. “Say my name again, my love.”

Your breath shudders.

You shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.

Because every second that passes, every moment where his lips linger on your skin, your resolve crumbles.

It’s terrifying.

Your body is betraying you, heat rushing beneath your skin, an ache forming deep in your core, responding to him even as you fight it.

It’s the way he touches you—not rough, not demanding, but reverent. Worshipful.

As if you are the only thing in existence that matters.

As if you hold power over him.

And isn’t that the most dangerous thing of all?

He has destroyed empires. He has broken men with nothing more than a glance. He commands armies, and yet—

Here he is.

On his knees.

For you.

“I have made the strongest men bow before me,” Jungkook murmurs, his lips brushing against your skin between each word. “But not like this.”

His tongue flicks out, just barely, teasing, dragging over the sensitive skin of your thigh. You gasp, your fingers twitching at your sides, desperate to grasp something— anything.

Especially to your threading sanity.

“I have taken kingdoms,” he continues, voice hoarse, almost pleading. “But nothing— nothing, has ever ruined me like you do.”

His fingers press into your hips, as if anchoring himself. His head bows lower, his lips tracing slow, deliberate patterns over your skin, and your body betrays you— your breath hitching, your legs threatening to tremble.

“Ahh—;” The sound escapes before you can stop it, small, but devastating.

Jungkook groans.

Deep. Rough and desperate.

Like he’s unraveling.

Like you own him.

His head tilts, his nose brushing against your inner thigh, his lips parting against your skin. “Mmh,” he exhales, and his voice alone sends a violent shiver up your spine.

“You feel that, my love?”

His fingers slide over your legs, teasing, tracing, but never where you need. His lips hover just close enough to drive you mad, his breath scalding, his control hanging by a thread.

“Your body responds to me,” he breathes. “No matter how much you fight it.”

Your chest rises and falls, your own restraint slipping.

Jungkook lifts his gaze, eyes locked onto yours, and the sheer hunger in them makes you weak.

His hands press against your thighs, thumbs stroking slow circles, his grip tightening just slightly, a silent plea, a command, a promise all at once.

“You can deny me with words,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with dark amusement, “but this? his nails dig in just a little, possessive, “this does not lie..”

He is too much.

Too overwhelming. Too powerful.

And yet…

Why does it feel like you are the one holding the power?

“Fuck baby just one fucking yes…” his lips travel upwards, pressing hot open mouthed kisses to your bare skin under your robe, he’s dangerously close to your center.

But before you can ever register, what’s happening or whatever you want to decide, his hot mouth attacks your covered pussy.

he’s waited too long for this moment and he can’t wait anymore. Jungkook groans, a guttural moan escapes him as he frantically starts to lick you through your panties.

He’s burning up— youre burning up.

Your knees buckle and you scream, it comes out more like a moan and he takes the opportunity to pull your center completely over onto his mouth as he falls flat on the marble ground of his chambers, pulling your heat down on his face as he starts to hungrily eat you out right through your undergarment.

You feel so incredibly disgusted yet, so fucking wet down there.

You don’t know what’s happening to your body, but you can’t seem to stop it.

“A-Ahhggg~~” you moan, grabbing on to his long curly licks as you tug in them. You’re being so loud, so loud.

Jungkook growls, his teeth attacking the fabric of your panties.

“Time to rip these off, baby. Biggest tonight there’s not going be a wall between us.”

•••

She can’t sleep at all.

Night drapes over Goryeo like a heavy curtain, The air is thick with the lingering scent of incense, mingling with the cool breeze that drifts through the open window of Meilin’s chamber.

She lies on her bed, her silk robes are cool against her feverish skin, but she can’t sleep.

Her fingers press into the fine embroidery of her blanket, her breathing slow and measured, yet her mind is anything but calm.

She is thinking.

Thinking of him.

The King of Goryeo.

Jungkook.

The name alone makes her lips part, her throat tightening slightly.

It started out innocent, didn’t it? That moment in the grand hall when her eyes first landed on him.

At first, it had been simple.

A woman’s admiration of a man’s beauty.

A fleeting breath of attraction, of curiosity.

Something natural. Something harmless.

But now, as she lays awake in the darkness, she knows—

It is no longer innocent.

Not when she remembers the sharp lines of his jaw, the way his royal robes draped over his powerful frame.

Not when she recalls the way his voice curled around each syllable, so rich, so controlled, so utterly commanding.

Not when she replays the way he had introduced his wife.

Her stomach twists.

She had hated hearing it.

Hated the way he had stood so proud beside you.

Hated the way his touch had lingered on your arm, the way his voice had been filled with something so unmistakably possessive.

Because she should not care.

She should not feel anything.

She should not be jealous.

But she is.

She is.

And the realization is like a slow, simmering poison spreading through her veins.

She tells herself it is just attraction.

A woman’s fascination with a powerful man.

That’s all.

That’s all.

But deep down—deep in the darkest parts of herself.

She knows it is something more.

Something worse.

And for the first time, Meilin begins to wonder just how far she is willing to fall.

[angelic--kitty]

caught in a lie!

cheater!beidou x rebound!reader

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, dom!beidou x sub!fem reader, cheating (ningguang/beidou are a couple), rough sex, fingering/strap usage (r!receiving), oral (beidou!receiving), size difference, daddy kink, hurt no comfort/no aftercare (sorry), smoker!beidou btw

quick plot synopsis: after a rough patch in their relationship, beidou and ningguang agree on a "break" they both know won't last. though, beidou has no qualms about using you to her advantage in the meantime....

a/n: rushed ending, not proofread, but i wanted to try out something angsty

word count: 1.6k

you knew something was off when she had texted you at 2 am. you knew something wasn't quite right when she asked you to come over.

she hadn't even bothered to offer to pick you up or get you a ride. yet, like the pathetic little thing you were; you hurried to get ready and drive over to her place. how predictable.

she left the door unlocked for you, not expecting any other visitors (at least not tonight).

when you arrived, the state of her place was... sad at best. empty beer cans sat next to full ash trays, the house smelling of cigarette smoke.

the woman of the hour herself sat next to the open window on her beat-up couch. classy as ever, wearing low-rise gray sweatpants that framed what she was packing rather nicely, and a loose black t-shirt.

she leaned forward, blowing smoke out the window and into the cool night air. as she came back, she glanced over at you, a little smirk taking over. "hey. you got here pretty quick."

it was a sleight, though you simply shrugged, kicking a crushed can by your foot. "you don't live that far away from me, you know."

wouldn't bother you to stop by or call sometime, you muse silently to yourself.

she simply hums, taking one last drag of her cigarette, blowing it out the window before putting it out, closing it up as you shiver from the cold air. "i was trying not to stink up the place before you got here." she admits, standing up in front of you. "let me take your jacket."

"it's freezing." you huff and she sheepishly rubs the back of her neck.

"sorry about that. you want something to drink? or...something."

after an awkward few minutes, you settle for tap water, quietly sitting across from her as her foot taps on the tile. "why did you call me suddenly?" you ask meekly.

"i don't know. guess i missed you."

"you're not seeing anybody?" you ask, confused.

"what? it's a shocker someone like me is single?" she grins, and you smile, shrugging. "look at you. you're in the same boat, huh, pretty girl?"

"beidou, please-" you whine, but your face feels warm as you tap your nails on the glass.

"are you gonna sit there all night nursing your glass or..." she leans in, tilting your chin up with the side of her index finger. "wanna head to my room?"

you nod, your eyes wide and excited, having desperately missed this with her. you trail behind her like a little lost puppy, letting her toss you onto her bed. "did you get smaller?" she teases you, looming over your body.

one of her rough hands traps your wrists above your head. "no, maybe you just got bigger!" you squirm playfully, tilting your head as she leans in to kiss down your throat.

she pushes her hips against yours as your thighs widen to give her room. you moan at the feeling of her strap rubbing against your clothed cunt as she laughs.

she sits you up, tossing your coat to the side, admiring the little outfit you put on for her. it accentuated your body perfectly and gave her easy access.

beidou didn't bother taking anything else off, just sliding your panties down from under your skirt and pushing your top over your tits. "fuck, would you look at that, huh?" she leans in, pinching your nipples to hear you squeak.

she pulls her strap out of her pants, rubbing it against your cunt as you squirm for her. the same hand slides to your mouth, tapping her fingers on your lips. "open up, baby." she coos, sliding her fingers over your tongue.

she goes too deep, eliciting a gag from your throat that she seems to enjoy a little too much. your throat constricts around her fingers while she plays with your gag reflex, her thumb gripping your cheek.

beidou roughly pulls her fingers away, strings of spit falling down your chin as she uses her slick fingers to spread your pussy open for her. "someone's eager." she snorts, sliding a finger into you as you gasp.

"fuck- beidou-" suddenly her other hand comes to lightly smack your cheek, grabbing your jaw.

"lost your manners?" she asks, her head tilted as your eyebrows furrow.

"i meant...daddy." you correct quietly and she grins, sliding another finger into you just to see your nose scrunch.

"better. good little slut always listening, yeah?" she crooks her fingers into you while you whimper and squirm around for her, your hands feebly grasping at her biceps.

she fucks you through your orgasm with ease, dragging her fingers out of you to coat her strap, giving you a little show as her wrist flicks in practiced movements.

you pant, leaning up a little before she pushes you back down, holding your thigh open wide. "but-"

"you don't need to suck me off, you're plenty wet enough." she smirks at your dejected look, swiping her thumb across your cheek. "you can use that pretty little mouth for me later." she promises, lining her strap up with your pussy.

you think for a moment she'll be gentle, but as she pushes the tip in, you cling to her, whining. "daddy, it's too-"

"you can take it." she reassures you, giving you a rare kiss to the top of your head. she always did prefer to fuck you with something too big. she liked to see you squirm. "take it for daddy, baby."

she fucks you roughly, leaning down to press her body weight into you. the tie of her sweatpants rubs against your exposed skin, her clothed chest pressing against your bare breasts.

her body covers yours, making you feel impossibly small as you sink into her bed, hearing the squeaks of the springs from how heavy her thrusts were. although, her low grunts and your own whines drowned them out, of course.

a calloused thumb sneaks down to rub your clit, feeling your hips jerk up against her. the rest of her fingers splay over your abdomen, admiring the bulge her strap makes as she fucks you.

she listens to your incessant moans and whines, half-ignoring you as she shoves you into the mattress, leaving bruises on your thighs and hips. though, you don't seem to mind, chasing your orgasm as you beg her for more.

once you finally cum, she drags her strap out, tossing the fake cock aside and sitting beside you on the bed. you're twitching and leaking, looking up at her as she leans down, teasingly pinching your nipple.

she slides her pants down further, taking her boxers with them as she spreads her thighs. "come on, get on your knees, baby." she taps your cheek, watching you limply slide down between her thighs.

her hand weasels its way into your hair, guiding you to eat her out while she leans back. she ends up using your mouth, holding your head steady while she fucks your tongue. you look up at her, doe-eyed and eager for praise as she keeps you pressed to her cunt.

her hair tickles your nose as you moan against her clit, desperately trying to keep up with her movements. her orgasm doesn't take long to hit, and as soon as it does, she pulls her pants back up, lighting a cigarette and lounging on her bed.

you climb up onto the bed, fixing your clothes and awkwardly clearing your throat. "um..."

beidou takes a long drag, blowing the smoke to the side. she scrolls through her phone, typing a long message to someone as you try to peer over at her phone. she sends you an annoyed scowl. "what?"

you frown, leaning away. "nothing! i just-"

"you can go." she scoffs, resting the cigarette on her lips as she finishes her text.

"beidou..." your voice is pathetic as you look at her dejected.

"what did you expect? i called you at 2 in the morning, you're the one who ran your ass over here expecting something." beidou scoffed. "i didn't promise you shit."

you blink at her, confused and hurt as your fingers ball up the fabric of your skirt. "i didn't think it meant nothing!"

she blew her smoke into your face, snorting as she put the cigarette out in the tray next to her bed. "you're a distraction. that's all."

your heart sinks to your stomach. "a distraction from what?"

"who do you think?" beidou shrugged, turning her phone off and shoving it into her pocket. "she came before you, she'll be here after you. isn't it enough you got fucked? isn't that what you wanted?"

"that's what you wanted, not me!"

"well you never complained until you got it in your head that you deserved more. not my fault."

you sniffle, tears gathering in your eyes as you stare at the photo of them on her nightstand. pictures of them were littered around her room. one of her hairpins, an empty tube of lipstick, a half-filled bottle of perfume on her desk.

"it's always going to be her." beidou asserts. "we fight sometimes, yeah, but i love her." she runs a hand through her hair, sighing. "she's just as fucked up anyways. neither of us are naive to sleeping around."

you stand up hurriedly, wiping your eyes. "fuck you. fuck you both!"

beidou simply sits there unbothered. "i just needed something to play with until i get my girl back. if you're that sensitive, you should've ignored my text."

and with that, your heart shattered, leaving you to drive home in tears. you had been used, and she didn't even care...

[nameless-jamie]

Hi, I love your writing and I love that you post so frequently! Could you wrote a fic based on the scene in the finally in which Rupert tells West Ham's coqch to take Jamie out? Could be a separate story (maybe Y/N is Richmond's lawyer) and she finds out and wants to finish Rupert? Or in the P/A universe and Jamie teases her about being protective and caring about him after she stands up to Rupert?

Thanks!

Red Card

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

TW: cursing, suggestive scenes, angry Y/N, sexist joke from Rupert

A/N: I hope it's okay that I used your request for a Jamie Tartt x PA ff, I thought it fit so well. Thank you for the idea!

The energy in Nelson Road was electric. The stands were packed with Richmond fans, their chants echoing through the stadium as the team prepared for one of their toughest matches yet. The anticipation was palpable, the tension thick in the air, but none of it compared to the storm brewing inside her the moment she overheard Rupert Mannion’s words.

Y/N wasn’t even supposed to be standing on the sidelines during the match—technically, her job as Jamie Tartt’s personal assistant didn’t require her to be this close to the action. But after years of working with Jamie, she’d become part of Richmond’s inner circle, always hovering near the dugout with Roy, Beard, and Ted, ready to handle whatever ridiculous emergency Jamie threw at her.

But tonight? Tonight, she was glad she was there.

Because she overheard everything.

Standing just a few feet from West Ham’s technical area, she had no choice but to hear Rupert fucking Mannion—West Ham’s owner, snake, all-around waste of oxygen—lean toward his coach and murmur,

"Take Tartt out."

She had frozen, fingers tightening around the clipboard she had been holding.

"Hard. Do whatever it takes."

It was quiet. Calculated. Cruel.

Rupert’s voice was as smooth as it was poisonous, a quiet command given to West Ham’s coach, the kind of thing meant to be whispered in dark corners and carried out with no one the wiser. But she had heard it, and once she had, there was no way in hell she was going to let it slide.

It made something snap inside her.

Without thinking, she stormed across the grass, ignoring Roy’s “Oi, what the fuck are you doin’?” and Beard’s sharp “Y/N—don’t—”

She was already moving.

Marching straight up to him.

“Mister Mannion,” she said, voice saccharine-sweet with rage.

Rupert barely glanced at her. “Ah, Miss Y/L/N. Didn’t realize Jamie let his little assistant wander around unsupervised.”

She clenched her jaw. “I heard what you just said about Jamie.”

Rupert smirked. “Did you?”

“You told your coach to injure him.” Her voice was pure steel.

Rupert sighed, as if she were boring him. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Football is a physical sport.” He tilted his head, looking her over like she was some insignificant little thing he could swat away. “Though, I suppose you’d know all about being handled roughly. What’s Jamie got you doing these days? Fetching his water? Maybe warming his bed?”

Y/N lunged.

Her vision went red as she launched herself at him, fully prepared to end him right then and there.

Before she could so much as grab the smug bastard, two line refs yanked her back.

“Let me go—” she growled, twisting in their grip.

Roy and Ted were already jogging toward her, Roy looking absolutely thrilled and Ted looking like he was suppressing laughter.

One of the refs shook his head. “Sorry, miss, but you’re outta here.”

She stood beside Roy and Ted on the touchline, fuming, while the referee held up the red card like she was some kind of violent offender.

“This is absolutely ridiculous,” Ted said, ever the peacemaker. “Now, I don’t wanna tell ya how to do your job, sir, but surely we can all agree that giving someone a red card when they aren’t technically a player is a little… excessive?”

“It’s the rules,” the ref said flatly.

“She doesn’t even play, mate!” Roy barked. “You can’t send her off!”

The ref shrugged. “Rules are rules.”

Roy, arms crossed, scowled so hard he looked ready to combust. “It’s a stupid fucking rule.”

“Stupid or not, she has to leave,” the ref insisted.

Y/N threw her arms in the air. “Oh, come on! I didn’t even do anything.”

The linesman coughed. “You tried to assault West Ham’s owner.”

“Tried being the keyword,” she snapped. “If you lot hadn’t held me back, I’d have succeeded.”

Rupert, still standing smugly nearby, let out a low chuckle. “My, my,” he said, voice dripping with condescension. “I didn’t realize Jamie’s assistant was so… passionate about her job.”

Y/N whirled back toward Rupert. “You’re a disgusting, pathetic excuse for a man,” she seethed.

Rupert only chuckled, waving his fingers at her like she was some little girl throwing a tantrum. “Run along now.”

The rage inside her burned.

“If anyone on West Ham lays a hand on Jamie, I swear to God, I will—”

Rupert tilted his head, feigning curiosity. “It looks an awful lot like you’re getting rather—” his lips curled into a smirk, “—emotionally involved with your client.”

The audacity of this man.

She felt the anger boiling in her chest, sharp and blinding, but before she could lunge, two line refs grabbed her arms, holding her back.

“Ohhh, I hate you,” she seethed.

Rupert just smiled, infuriatingly unbothered. “Careful now, boys. Wouldn’t want Jamie’s newest toy to get too scratched up before he inevitably trades her in for someone better.”

That was it. That was her breaking point.

She surged forward, only for the refs to tighten their grip, dragging her back toward the tunnel.

“LET ME AT HIM,” she yelled, legs kicking uselessly as she was forcibly removed.

“Jesus Christ,” Roy muttered, but there was unmistakable approval in his tone.

Ted just sighed. “Well, that went about as well as we could’ve hoped.”

She wasn’t sure if it was the way he dismissed her or the fact that she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, but she let the refs drag her off, still spitting curses as Roy followed them, arguing the whole way.

Jamie, standing on the pitch, barely caught the end of it—just enough to see his PA being forcibly escorted out, Roy yelling at the ref, and Y/N looking ready to kill someone.

He frowned. “What the fuck?”

Isaac, jogging up beside him, snorted. “Mate, Y/N just got a red card. She got sent off.”

“Right. And… why?” Jamie blinked. “She ain’t even a player.”

“Yeah, well, she’s got more fight in her than half of us,” Isaac muttered.

Sam, ever the optimist, said, “I’m sure there’s a perfectly reasonable explana—”

“—Apparently she tried to murder Mr. Mannion,” Colin interrupted.

Jamie’s eyes widened. “Oh, fuckin' hell.”

Jamie found her in the locker room after the game, sitting on one of the benches with her arms crossed, scowling at the floor.

She barely glanced up as he walked in.

He leaned against the lockers, arms crossed, smirking. “So.”

She huffed. “So.”

He tilted his head. “Wanna tell me why my personal assistant got sent off the pitch? ’Cause, I gotta say, love, that’s a new one—even for you.”

Y/N exhaled sharply. “Rupert told his coach to target you. To hurt you.”

Jamie felt something twist in his stomach. He wasn’t surprised—not really—but hearing it from her, hearing how angry she was about it…

It did something to him.

Before he could respond, she turned to face him fully, eyes blazing. “And then that prick had the audacity to say some sexist bullshit about me, and I—” She clenched her fists. “I snapped.”

Jamie smirked. “You snapped.”

“Yes.”

“And got dragged off the pitch.”

“Yes.”

“And got a red card even though you don’t play football.”

She groaned, rubbing her face. “Yes.”

Jamie couldn’t help it—he laughed.

Y/N shot him a glare. “Jamie.”

“Nah, nah, I’m just—” He shook his head, grinning. “You got sent off tryin’ to protect me.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it a thing.”

“Oh, it’s definitely a thing.” A really sexy thing. He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Admit it. You care about me.”

She scoffed. “Of course, I care about you. You’re my job.”

Jamie smirked. “And?”

“And nothing.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You sure?”

“Yes.”

Jamie leaned in, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “You sure sure?”

Y/N shoved him. “Shut up, Jamie.”

He laughed, stepping back. “Alright, alright.” He crossed his arms, eyes still bright with amusement. “But just so you know—next time, if you’re gonna get sent off, at least make it worth it.”

She huffed. “Oh, trust me. Next time, I’m throwing a punch.”

Jamie grinned. “Now that, love, I’d pay to see.”

And even though he teased her for it—because of course he would—he couldn’t help but feel something warm settle in his chest.

Because she had fought for him.

[geowrites03]

A Part of the Family

Part 1 ~ Getting Adopted

Batfam x Fem!Orphan!Reader

Summary: Y/n is just another kid left out on the harsh streets of Gotham, all having to fend for themselves. She however had a friend in low places. But, what will happen if this friend gets sent to Arkham Asylum? Who will she have to save her from the dangers of this god awful city?

“Waylon!” I called out as I stomped on the manhole cover to get his attention. He usually came by now, I hope the Bat didn’t get him again. But much to my shitty luck.

“It’s no use kid, Batman got him last night.” I look over to see Selina there. She isn’t wearing her Catwoman suit which is surprising because of how late it is.

“You probably helped him somehow, too.” She looked at me quizzical. “Everyone knows that the Cat and the Bat got something going on.”

“Okay, but what if I say that, I didn’t help him?” She came closer and wrapped her arm around me so we could walk to somewhere else because she noticed a small group of sketchy guys walking towards me.

“Then I guess I can… Share some of my food? I usually split it with Waylon, but…” She laughed and shook her head.

“No I was kidding, I don’t want anything. You can keep all the food to yourself tonight.” She stopped walking and put each of her hands on either of my shoulders. “I take that back, I want one thing. You to stay safe, Waylon won’t be back for awhile ‘cause he always takes forever to escape, so please, stay out of trouble.”

I nodded and gripped one of her hands for reassurance. “I promise.” She smiled down at me, then got a message on her phone.

“I have to go now. Bye, and I mean it, Stay Out Of Trouble.” I nodded again as she ran off.

I looked around to see if the group of guys was still following us but it looks like we lost ‘em. Now all I have to do is find a place to eat my food.

Deciding that up on a hard to get to roof would be best, I put my food in my backpack so I don’t drop it. I climb up onto a dumpster, jump to a ledge and climb up a pipe. It wasn’t that hard to onto which made me a little uneasy but nobody would be that desperate to jump from a dumpster to a skinny ledge and then climb up a single, small, water pipe for 5 stories.

I get my food out of my bag, I got what I always get. A cheap burger and a small, curly fries from a small take out shop. But tonight, because I can’t give Waylon his and I already bought it, I get double that, besides the fries being a large, and some nuggets. I was feasting tonight.

I couldn’t eat all of it though, I still had the extra burger, some fries and some nuggets left. I put them back in the takeout bag and into my backpack. I slide down the pipe and jump to the ground from when it ends. When my feet hit the ground I’m met with a voice I wasn’t planning on hearing tonight.

“What were you doing on a restricted rooftop?” The latest Robin’s voice called. I looked his slightly lean figure up and down, rolled my eyes and walked away from him.

“Look, why don’t you go deal with some actual crimes, rather than someone just trying to find a safe place to eat.” He scoffed and started walking the opposite direction. I decided to be extra bitchy, not caring who I’m talking to, even though I could most definitely out run him. “And thanks for putting Croc away too.”

“Why are you sarcastic about me putting away a villain that deserves it? Shouldn’t you be relieved that a threat is off the streets?”

“A threat? Waylon was the only person looking out for some of us kids living on the streets who can’t protect themselves. Those random ‘defenceless’ guys that kept showing up in the ER nearly scratched to death? That was him protecting us. Now some of us have noway to protect ourselves.”

~

After a mini dispute with Robin I was back to my usual activities of pickpocketing random people walking down the street, while keeping an eye out for quiet safe spaces to sleep for the night.

Just like most nights there weren’t really any ‘safe’ places so I decided to stay awake and moving all night. I sighed, I haven’t slept in 4 days and it was really starting to take its toll on me.

I was walking for a while when I finally caught onto a car that has been following me for awhile tonight. I subtly try to look at it to see if I could possibly identify it. I could, it was one of the orphanage coordinators cars. I also notice a police car behind it so I couldn’t try and run again. These bitches are really persistent.

I stop walking and the car pulled up next to me. The driver rolled down the window, it was one of the old and rude coordinators.

Bruce’s POV~

“Look Lee, I already said that I’m not currently in the position to take in another kid, I have enough on my plate.” I sighed talking to the woman on the other line. “As much as I would love to help a child in need, I just can’t at the moment, I’m sorry.”

“Please, Bruce she’s already gotten in too much trouble at the orphanage and is on her last strike.” The hospital where Lee works helps out the Gotham Orphanage by providing free health checks and regular check-ups, so she is often concerned about these kids. “She’s on a 5-strike system, but she’s already run away 5 times Bruce. This was the last straw before they kick her out, please. Even if it’s just for a little while to see how she’ll adapt.”

“Can I think about it overnight?” She agreed and I ended the phone call.

Y/n’s POV~

Here I was back in this horrendous room, just for one night though, they finally want me out. I put my small amount of belongings that were surprisingly still here in a duffle bag then climbed into bed.

I wondered where I would end up being sent, or if they even had anything planned for me at all. It wasn’t long before I drifted off to sleep.

~

One of the coordinators, Jessie, woke me up with a harsh shake and ushered me out of bed and to get changed. She left as I was getting changed so I had the opportunity to slip a pocket knife into my bra, another in my pocket of my shorts, another in the inside pocket of my jacket, and one down my sock but not visible due to my shoe.

I gathered my two bags, had the duffle bag hanging off of one shoulder and backpack on the other shoulder.

“Oh. No, leave them there for now, you’re only going to meet with him.” She said when I opened the door.

“Him?” I asked confused while putting my bags on the bed that was most likely no longer mine.

“Yes him,” she nodded and ushered me out of the room. “He might adopt you, and if he doesn’t then I don’t even want to know where the head of the orphanage is going to send you.”

I merely nodded and followed her into an office where the head of the orphanage, Agatha, and Bruce Wayne were already sitting. Across the table from them there was an empty chair and another on the side of the table, that Jessie had already made herself comfortable in.

“Don’t be shy, y/n you can sit down.” She had said to me, I looked at her and sat down in the chair.

“Y/n this is Bruce Wayne,” she put on one of her big, wrinkly, fake smiles, and I rolled my eyes. Of course it’s Bruce Wayne, I don’t live under a rock, though I might have lived inside of one at the current state of this orphanage, “he might end up adopting you today.”

“Hi y/n.” He stretched his hand out to me for me to shake, I looked to Jessie. Then at his outstretched hand, then at his face. I shook his hand while looking in his eyes and let out a weak ‘hi’.

~

Meeting him didn’t go that well but I seemed to have made somewhat an impression, considering I was now on the drive to Wayne Manor. The drive was already too long and boring, he had stopped trying to ask questions, as I would only give him small mumbled answers.

I looked around the interior of the backseat of his car. I was distracted by something when he said, “I’m sure you don’t need a pocket knife on you, let alone four.”

I was shocked by his words and that he knew how many I had on me, and to be honest, I didn't know why I had four to begin with, it was definitely a little extreme to have that many on me, so I played it off with a shrug.

“I collected them.” I lied, “and I couldn't carry them out in my bag because it got checked by one of the workers, so I kept them on me.”

“You have a lying problem, kid, but you don’t have to lie anymore, you’re safe now.” Was all he responded with as he kept his eyes on the road.

Did he just guess that my lying was a form of protection? He wasn't wrong, but I was still surprised he caught on, how could a billionaire CEO be so perceptive? Was it because he had taken in other orphans and guessed based on their behaviours, or was there more to the story?

[777bae]

OUT OF REACH EMIL LILLEBERG

Summary :: Emil always forgets you’re not as tall as him, constantly putting things on the top shelf just out of reach. After a few failed attempts to grab a box of pasta, you call for help—only for him to tease you as he effortlessly grabs it down. Despite the frustration, you can’t help but appreciate his charm… even if he’s a walking kitchen disaster.

Warnings :: reader is quite a bit shorter than him (Emil is like 6’2)

Word count :: 2.0k

The kitchen feels unusually cramped tonight, the space shrinking with every stretch of your arm. The air is thick with the mix of frustration and determination that’s building up inside you. Every inch you gain feels like an impossibility—like the pasta box is playing some cruel game, just barely within reach but always slipping further back when you think you’re close. You tiptoe higher, your breath catching as you stretch even more, fingertips brushing the edge, but not quite making contact.

The box of pasta taunts you with its proximity, daring you to reach it, daring you to be taller, to be more clever, to be anything but the person you are right now—straining, balancing on the balls of your feet, your entire body bending and twisting to meet its challenge. Your fingertips graze the corner of the box, but the moment you think you’ve got it, the damn thing slides away like it’s mocking your efforts.

You step back, exhaling a huff of frustration. Your arm aches from the stretch, muscles burning, yet you can’t help but feel compelled to keep trying. You’ve been at this for what feels like an eternity, and all you want is that stupid box, just a simple task, but it’s like the shelf is an enemy in some poorly scripted battle you’re never going to win.

You’ve already tried everything. The edge of the counter, the tiptoeing, even the desperate stretches with your spine curved in ways it shouldn’t be. You’ve jumped a few times too, almost knocking over the spice rack in the process. But nothing works. The top shelf remains just out of your reach, and it’s becoming an endless loop of failure. You feel a surge of irritation wash over you, the kind that turns even small tasks into mountains you can’t climb.

Just then, you hear Emil’s voice from the living room—soft, almost muffled by the low hum of the TV. It’s a lazy kind of sound, his usual drawl that lets you know he’s not really doing anything, just existing. He’s probably sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in the warmth of his own quiet, effortlessly relaxed state, while you’re here, fighting an invisible war against a shelf.

You glance back toward the living room, almost as if you’re expecting him to materialize at any moment, like he might suddenly walk in, notice your struggle, and offer some sort of unsolicited advice or assistance. But no—he’s probably lost in the game, or checking his phone, or just… completely unaware of your ongoing battle.

You can almost picture it—his easy posture, the way he probably doesn’t even realize how long you’ve been at this. He wouldn’t know what it’s like to fight with something that’s supposed to be easy, to have something just out of reach, no matter how hard you try. His world is probably so effortlessly simple, and here you are—on your tiptoes, straining with a dumb box of pasta like it’s the most important thing in the world.

The frustration builds again, and you let out a long, exasperated sigh, as if the air itself is feeling the weight of your irritation. You can’t just give up—not after everything.

You stretch again, pushing your body higher, giving a little hop in a last-ditch effort to finally grasp the elusive box of pasta. It’s no use. The box taunts you, stubbornly staying just beyond your reach. Your fingertips graze the bottom corner again, but it slides away, like it’s playing its own game with you. Frustration builds in your chest, and your breath comes in short, sharp bursts as your muscles scream in protest. This was supposed to be easy.

You stand there for a moment, frozen in a mix of disbelief and irritation, your arm still outstretched, hovering in the air. The feeling of helplessness gnaws at you—how can something so simple be so maddening? The corner of the shelf, so close yet so far. Your gaze flickers to the rest of the kitchen, but the air feels too heavy, and you just need to let it out.

With a dramatic sigh, you drop your arm, the sense of defeat hanging over you. You turn to face the empty space behind you, shaking your head. This is absurd. He had to put it there, didn’t he? The box of pasta. The one thing you can’t reach.

You throw your hands up in exasperation. “Emil!” you call, the words coming out louder than you intended, a mixture of frustration and resignation in your voice. The name cuts through the silence of the kitchen, a sharp cry for help. You wait, your pulse still racing as you let the annoyance settle in.

You hear the familiar sound of Emil shifting on the couch—his casual movement, a shift of weight on the cushions—before his voice drifts toward you, muffled and unconcerned. “Yeah?”

A second later, your irritation creeps up again, this time spilling out in an exaggerated tone, the kind of thing you didn’t mean but can’t hold back now. “Can you come in here for a second?” you call out again, the words dripping with the kind of annoyance you usually try to suppress, but tonight, it’s all spilling over. You don’t even try to hold it in; you’re done. You need help, but you’re going to let him know how ridiculous it all feels.

The sound of him standing reaches you next, the soft shuffle of footsteps that tell you he’s not rushing. A few moments pass before he appears in the doorway, moving with the same laid-back ease that’s practically his trademark. His hands are casually shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants, his posture relaxed as he leans against the doorframe, eyeing you with a faint glint of amusement already tugging at the corners of his lips. His eyes flick up to the top shelf—your target—and then back to you, still standing there on your tiptoes, arms stretched up, straining for the box of pasta that’s just out of your grasp.

He raises an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a smirk. “You still trying to get that?” he asks, the teasing lilt in his voice impossible to ignore. There’s something about the way he’s looking at you, like he knows exactly what’s going on. And maybe he does—maybe he’s been watching you struggle from the living room, quietly enjoying the show.

You roll your eyes dramatically, letting out a long exhale as you throw your hands up in mock surrender. “Yes, and I swear, if that pasta box is laughing at me right now, I’m going to lose it,” you say, your voice a mixture of exasperation and playful exaggeration. The frustration still pulses under your words, but you know you can’t take it too seriously—after all, it’s just pasta. Right?

Emil chuckles at your theatrics, his chest vibrating with amusement. He uncrosses his arms and steps forward, a slow, deliberate movement that only adds to the easy confidence he exudes. His arms fold back into his chest as he leans against the counter, watching you with a half-amused, half-sympathetic expression. “You know,” he starts, his voice light but with a teasing edge, “if you just asked, I’d grab it for you.”

You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes as you give him an exaggerated, dramatic pout, trying to mirror his smugness. “I’m trying to maintain some dignity here,” you say, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You take a small step back, waving your arms theatrically as you turn your attention back to the shelf. “But you—” you pause, making sure to emphasize the point—“keep putting things on the top shelf like you’re trying to make me lose my mind.”

He doesn’t even flinch. If anything, his smirk only deepens, that knowing look in his eyes never leaving. Without another word, he steps forward and reaches up to grab the box from the shelf. He does it so effortlessly that it seems almost cruel. The motion is fluid, practiced, like he’s done this a hundred times before, and he’s only half-paying attention.

He pulls the box down in a single, smooth motion, not breaking a sweat. His eyes flick back to you, a playful grin stretching across his face. “It’s not my fault you’re not as vertically gifted as me,” he teases, his tone light, but there’s that underlying sense of mischief you know too well. His words are almost too perfect, a reminder of how, in this moment, you’re not the one winning.

You huff, frustration still bubbling in your chest, and snatch the pasta box from Emil’s outstretched hand. Your fingers brush his briefly, and you can’t ignore the warmth of his touch, even if it’s just for a moment. You give him a playful shove, the kind you’ve given him a hundred times before when he’s pushed your buttons just enough. “Can you stop putting things on the top shelf like you’re some sort of kitchen god?” you ask, your voice half-mocking, half-exasperated. “I swear, it’s like you’re doing it on purpose!”

Emil’s laughter is instant, his deep chuckle rumbling in the air between you two. He leans back against the doorframe, arms still casually crossed over his chest. His eyes gleam with amusement, a mischievous twinkle you know all too well. “You’re welcome for my assistance,” he says, his tone light and teasing. “But seriously, you’d be better off just asking next time.”

You hold the pasta box up, waving it in front of him like a prize you’ve just won—an exaggerated, triumphant gesture that only makes your frustration more ridiculous. “Oh, I’ll ask next time,” you reply, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “But only if you promise to never, ever put the cereal up there again.” You give the box a little shake for emphasis, almost like you’re bargaining. “I’ll start hiding your snacks if you do.”

Emil’s grin widens, and he tilts his head slightly, as if considering your offer, but you can see the glint of mischief in his eyes. “If you do that, I’ll just move all the snacks to the highest shelf of the pantry,” he says, feigning seriousness, though you know he’s enjoying this playful back-and-forth. “You’re not winning this battle.”

You narrow your eyes at him, crossing your arms in a mock display of defiance. You give him a playful side-eye, your lips curling upward despite your best efforts to appear stern. “You just wait,” you say, a quiet promise hanging in your words. “I’ll find a way to get back at you for this.”

Emil just shakes his head, his smile broadening even more. The laughter still lingers in his voice as he pushes off from the doorframe, but he’s clearly not done with the teasing. “You’re lucky I’m around to help,” he says with a playful sigh, the words drawing out a little more than necessary as if he’s giving you some rare gift of his presence. “Where would you be without me?”

You roll your eyes in exaggerated disbelief but can’t help the smile creeping onto your face despite yourself. There’s something about him—something about the way he teases, so effortlessly, without even trying—that softens your irritation every time. “Probably managing just fine, actually,” you mutter, trying to keep up the act, but the grin that you can’t suppress says otherwise. “But it’s good to know you’ll always be there when I need you to—what was it? Rescue me from the shelf?”

“Exactly,” he says with a wink, his voice dripping with mock-heroism, and you can almost hear the dramatic music playing behind his words. He turns to head back toward the living room, the casualness of his steps belying the smugness in his grin. “It’s a full-time job, you know. I’m basically a hero around here.”

You can’t help but laugh at his antics, the sound escaping you before you can even think to hide it. You watch him saunter back into the other room, shoulders relaxed, a confident air about him. You stand there for a moment, the faintest smile still tugging at your lips as you shake your head, knowing full well that maybe, just maybe, you secretly appreciate having him around—even if his brand of “help” involves ridiculously high shelves and pasta-box placement strategies.

“Hero,” you mutter under your breath, still smiling as you shake your head, half in disbelief, half in fondness. “Yeah, sure.” But you both know the truth—you’d never trade him for anything else.

[beomqu]

You wanted this, right? | Lee Jeno

╰┈➤ pairings! : toxic ex!jeno x reader (jaemin x reader)

warnings! : making out, jealousy, rough sex, spanking, jeno loves your ass, mating press, jeno is a manipulator piece of shit

synopsis! : you tried to make him jealous, the need to prove he no longer has a hold on you, but jeno refuses to let go. no matter how hard you try to move on, he pulls you right back in. and the worst part? you don't really want to escape.

wc! : 2.5k

He wanted to get under your skin and he succeeded, but he had no idea you weren't going to back down, not without a fight. Fine. Two can play this game.

From that moment on, your only mission was to make Jeno regret everything, and you just knew the way. The best way to mess with him is through his jealousy issues and you're ready to play that card. Jaemin was at the party too, you knew because ever since the "break" he'd been texting you, filling the empty space Jeno left behind.

Supposedly it was a break, but judging by the way Jeno was making out with some girl, her blonde locks tangled between his fingers as she sucked bruises into his neck you figured you'd gotten your answer. If Jeno could move on so easily why couldn't you? Jaemin could be a lot of fun for you tonight.

The people dancing and jumping around made it hard to pass between them, but getting to the bar was main priority. Getting drunk was step one in your plan. Only problem was that Jeno and his company were stationed there. He would definitely see you.

Not ideal, at least, not yet. Not without Jaemin.

"Tequila," you ordered your drink, voice stern. A tequila is the way to start out.

While the guy was pouring your drink out Jeno noticed you just as he leaned in for another sloppy kiss with the girl pressed up against the wall beneath him. Only this time he didn't close his eyes and when the position let it he maintained eye contact. His lips moved skillfully, his arms caged her in, palms braced against the wall on either side of her head while her hands clung to his chest and neck.

You could almost feel him against your own lips, getting reminded of how he used to hold you and kiss you just like that. But the only thing you craved right now was the bitter taste of tequila, so when it was ready, you drank it and walked away from him without sparing him another glance.

Getting tequila drunk is the real party drunk. You can feel the bass in your veins, all you want to do is dance and scream the lyrics to the music. A few more shots warming up your system got you just there.

You quickly got a couple of shots in your system with the help of Jaemin and Jeno's other friends. All of them started off with the topic of your and Jeno's break, asking how you felt, if you were okay. But the way they invited you to many drinks, the way their touch lingered on you for a second too long told you all you had to know. They weren't mourning Jeno's relationship, it looks like.

Jaemin soon took all of your attention, any little thought of Jeno vanishing the more you looked into his pretty eyes, the more his hands gripped onto your waist. You couldn't restrain yourself, with your hand wrapped around him you pulled him close enough to kiss his neck. You exhaled against his skin, peppering the side of his neck with wet kisses, his collarbones, and any part of his skin you could reach with your mouth.

"Come on pretty," he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "My lips are up here."You haven't kissed anyone but Jeno in years. You hesitated.

"What's wrong?" he raised his eyebrow with a soft smile, "Need some help?" his finger brushed under your chin, tilting your face up to his.

Jeno easily made out with someone else and you're hesitating about kissing Jaemin. It's pathetic how it was hard for you to do the same, you can't let him win.

With the determination to win, you leaned in capturing Jaemin's lips between yours. He let out a low exhale as he eased into you, his hands sliding down to grip your ass. The warmth of his tongue, the way he melted into you, it was intoxicating.

The hunger, the rush of need felt with Jaemin had long been absent with Jeno. The kiss felt electric, your whole body easing into his, letting his hands roam around your body, his touch mapping out places that had gone untouched for far too long.

As you pulled back Jaemin looked dazed, captivated. His eye locked onto you like he couldn't look away from you, not even if he wanted to. You reveled in the way he craved you, showing you he wanted you.

You danced, body moving with the rhythm of the music, Jaemin's fingers intertwined with yours as he spun you around, laughter escaping your lips as he guided you back against him, your back flush against his chest. You continued to dance, grinding on him with the help of his hand guiding your hips. You reached back, fingers threading through his hair, pulling down for another sloppy kiss, tongue sliding into your mouth. Jaemin groaned into the kiss, his hands exploring your body. But you weren't the only one caught up in the moment.

You could feel Jeno watching.

His gaze was heavy, burning a hole through your body, watching how you moved against Jaemin. He mirrored your movements with the girl against him, his strong hands holding her, pulling her close but his eyes? They were locked onto your every move.

The girl ground against him, spun in his arms, even guided Jeno's hand on her chest but it wasn't enough. She couldn't hold his attention the way you could.Your pride pushed you further, you had to show Jeno he doesn't matter to you anymore.

You leaned up, lips brushing against Jaemin's ear.

"I want you, Jaemin." you whispered, voice laced with lust, "Need you so bad." his breath hitched as your nails dug into his skin.

Jaemin chuckled, the sound sweet but dark, "You asked so nicely, Angel. How could I ever say no to you?" his voice dripped with something sinful, but it was the way his finger slipped under the hem of your dress that sent a shiver down your spine.

"I'll get us something to drink and then we can find a quieter place?" he spoke against your shoulder, pressing a soft, teasing kiss on your tender skin before your hands slipped out of his grip.

And just like that, you were alone.

Alone except for the pair of eyes which still lingered on you, only this time closer than before.

"Enjoying the party?" Jeno spoke through gritted teeth, towering over you as he looked down into your eyes with a piercing gaze.

"Are you not?" you shot back, look unwavering.

"Not anymore."

"Oh? So now I'm bothering you? Don't you have something better to do?" you turned, ready to walk away. He wasn't about to ruin your night, not when Jaemin showed you what it was like to be wanted unlike him.

"No, I don't."

He reached for your hand, stopping you in your tracks, his hold was firm, almost desperate. "You know there's nothing better than you."

You scoffed, "That didn't seem like it five minutes ago when you had your tongue down someone else's throat." He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him, "She's not a better kisser than you," Jeno spoke with a low voice, lips inching closer to yours, "And I know Jaemin is not better than me."

As much as you wanted him to be wrong, he didn't lie. You should have fought back, pushed him away, and screamed at him to fuck off, but you didn't. Instead, you melted into him.

Your arms sneaked around his neck, pulling him closer to you. Just for a moment, you felt whole with him, his touch, his lips, even when you knew you shouldn't. His lips moved like they always belonged against yours, like they never left.

Jeno has way too much power over you, you shouldn't crave his touch and shouldn't have ever let him control you like this.

But God you wanted him.

He pulled back, and you thought you were dreaming, that he was never actually here, and you felt your world shatter again, until you felt a pull at your hand. Jeno's warm hand held yours like they used to, guiding you away from the crowd, up the stairs where there were less people. He didn't stop until he found an unoccupied room, locking the door behind you.

"Jeno-" His strong hand grabbed under your thigh, lifting you over his shoulder with ease, drawing a surprised yelp out of you. On the way to the bed he couldn't resist, he slapped your ass with his free hand and harshly bit down on your skin.

"Quiet." he shut you up before you could make a sound, throwing you on the bed. He didn't leave you a second to move he flipped you over and lifted your dress higher until your ass was on full display for him. Jeno's hand roughly threaded the skin on your butt before he kneeled down in front of the bed to press wet kisses over the faded red mark that his hand had left there.

All your attention was focused on him, not noticing as his hand quickly slipped your panties off you, only gasping as you felt his warm, wet tongue on your hole.

You sighed loudly, toes curling at the feeling. You whimpered out his name, his hand moving to spank you again before diving back between your cheeks.

With one finger he collected your dripping arousal before fucking it back into you, his digit curling inside of your tight pussy.

His mouth was occupied, but you wished he would talk to you. Wish he would say anything, apologize to you or just make you feel loved after leaving you for weeks with zero contact. But you didn't have enough willpower to confront him, not when he fingered you so good.

Before you could feel the knot in your tummy build up he stood up, leaving your wet pussy empty and unattended.

"Please Jeno..." he left your mind foggy, that was all you could whimper out.

He let out a low chuckle, "You want me to fuck you so bad it makes you look stupid." he was right, you were his dumb little toy. All it took him was a couple of words, and you threw yourself at him.

If you had more pride, you wouldn't be in this position, but instead, you gripped the sheets when you heard him unbuckle his belt.

"My stupid little girl." his voice was soothing and soft as he spread your cheeks, his tip lingering at your entrance. You bit your lips in anticipation and closed your eyes wanting to focus on him completely.

His cock slowly entered you, filling you up halfway through already, but he didn't stop until your hips were flush against his. Your eyes rolled back, and pained whimpers escaped your lips while you got used to his size again after weeks of not feeling him.

"Fuck, you're so big," you blurted out before you clenched your jaw, a shaky breath leaving through your nose.

You reached behind you and grabbed his thigh to stop him from moving, but he pushed your hand away. The bed squeaked as he put his right leg up on the wooden frame, both his hands roughly grabbing your hips, his weight pressing you into the mattress. The position made it easier for him to thrust into you and fuck you so hard it made your skin red.

"S-slow down," you begged while Jeno fucked you, moves coordinated and rough. He didn't listen, your words might have only encouraged him.

The tip of his dick hit your tight walls right where you needed it the most while his heavy thrusts created a contrast. It hurt so good.

"You thought you could get away with flirting with my friends, hmm?" one of Jeno's hand slipped from your waist to your head, pushing it into the mattress. Your moans became muffled by the sheets each time his dick hit your spot.

You couldn't reply even if you wanted to.

"Kissing with Jaemin right in front of me? What have you become? You're a slut now?"

"Fuck—"

"Answer me, Baby." a pained hiss escaped you as he took hold of your hair and pulled you up slightly, forcing you to arch your back.

You grabbed over his hand, hoping he would loosen his grip, "I only want you."

"Liar."

All you could hear from him was heavy breathing, he didn't let out another sound. The sound of skin slapping took over the whole room only a faint sound of music infiltrated through the closed door.

He let go of your hair, your head fell back into the mattress. As you looked behind you, Jeno's lips were pursed as if he was actively trying to keep in his noises. His neck glistened from the sweat, skin decorated with purple bruises that he got not even an hour ago. With each thrust, his moves became clumsy and desperate, you knew he was getting closer and so were you.

He leaned over you to angle his hips, making you almost scream as he hit your spots over and over, pleasure taking over your whole body. All you could do was close your eyes and take everything he's giving you.

"Oh god..." tears swell in your eyes, but he didn't stop.

"Fuck," he held his breath, selfishly chasing his own high, only using you for his pleasure.

You couldn't even warn him, the band in your tummy tightened and finally snapped, and you came all over his cock.

Your legs began to shake from overstimulation, still Jeno showed no signs if stopping yet.

"Fuck, Jeno..." he couldn't hold in his groans anymore, he thrust inside you a few more times before pulling you against himself and burying his dick deep inside of you. His muscles tensed up as he came inside you, filling you up completely. Jeno took a few moments to himself before he pulled out and collapsed on top of you.

A shiver ran down your spine as his cold finger traced your arm, his hold tightening around you. The air was thick, with everything left unsaid, both of you needing a moment to breathe before facing the inevitable.

"Baby," Jeno whispered softly, his voice almost hesitant, "I don't like seeing you with other men."

You let out a heavy sigh, too drained to argue with him, "I don't like seeing you kiss other girls either, but you broke up with me."

"I know." his grip on you tightened, his lips finding the spots he'd been rough with earlier, pressing gentle, remorseful kisses to your skin.

"I'm sorry, I want to be a better boyfriend for you."

"I love you."

Did he mean it? You weren't sure. But you loved him. And right now that was all that mattered.

You can't resist him, not even Jaemin can have your attention the way Jeno does.

[4lexnilsen]

“that’s what it was,  yeah…”   alex absently agrees,  nodding his head and sucking on his still bleeding lip.   a fresh wave of guilt fills his heart and he hears himself saying,   “i think most people are just jealous of you.   you have everything,  helena.”   and it’s no excuse for bullying,  but in a way it is an explanation.   “i can only speak for myself and although i don’t see you as a rich,  entitled brat,  i am very much jealous of what you have.   and i’m not even talking about the money,  that doesn’t mean much to me.”   even though,  it must be nice to never worry about getting a job or wondering how you’re going to pay the rent.   “you were right about me.   i wish i had a dad like yours.   yours wants to give you the world while mine doesn’t even know when my birthday is.”   shoulders shrugging faintly underneath the puffer jacket like it’s no big deal,  eyes flickering back onto the road when they begin to sting.   “and so people attack your family or your upbringing because they’re jealous,  but believe me,  if given the opportunity,  they’d swap lives with you in a heartbeat.   you’re not a horrible person.”   he glances down at her hand lingering on his skin,  butterflies fluttering in the pit of his belly,  making him simultaneously nauseous and infatuated.      

“is that a hammer?   what were you planning to use it for?”   he laughs dryly,  somewhat amused by the contents of his friend’s pockets but still very much disgusted with himself.   but the mere memory of their very first meeting has his features softening,  a gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips,  causing the wound to reopen.   not that it bothers him.   he feels so warm and tingly,  confused feelings brewing deep inside.   “you saved my life that day,  i’m not even kidding.”   maybe in a way he’s managed to pay his debt tonight by disarming harry.   “oh,  then i’ll get mine virgin,  too.   i’m not much of a drinker.   i’m actually pretty famous for always bringing a book to the bar.   that’s my thing.”   it’s very kind of her to offer him a ride back home,  but the bar that he has in mind is only a few blocks away from his apartment so there will be no need for that.   “yeah,  of course,”   he agrees,  focusing on driving and turning the radio on so that it can fill the silence between them.   katy perry’s old song is playing,  the one that got away,  and alex finds himself sinking his teeth into his busted lip to keep from getting emotional.   stupid song.   

they circle the block a few times before alex finds an open spot,  right outside the small corner bar that he’s been telling helena about.   its neon sign flickering half-heartedly,  but there are quite a few people inside.   this place is the opposite of that fancy lounge,  its patrons stink of vodka and cigarettes and don’t drive rolls royce,  but maybe that’s exactly what they need.   a change of scenery.   the black mustang pulls in,  barely fitting between two beat-up sedans.   “alright,  here we are,”   he mutters,  cutting the engine and unbuckling his belt before climbing out into the cool night.   he circles the car and opens helena’s door for her,  offering her a hand,  but doubting she’ll be willing to take it.   the air around them smells like wet concrete and distant food trucks,  but at least the hum of traffic has all but faded away.   inside the bar,  it’s warm and dim,  which alex figures works in their favor —   at least no one will ask questions about their faces.   does it look like they were in a domestic brawl?   probably.   he leads his friend over to the wooden bar,  helping her slide into a high stool.   shoulders brushing as he takes a seat beside her.   he orders them a round of some fruity beverages,  virgin.   and when the bartender places two glasses in front of them,  with sugar-dusted rims,  he doesn’t even realize the guy didn’t hear the last part.   there’s rum in their strawberry daiquiris,  but as he takes a sip,  he can’t really tell a difference.   “so…   what a night,  right?”

"i've took a lot of self defense classes and such, but i don't think that was it. i think that was just anger talking, i just had enough of being called a rich entitled bitch. like i'm some horrible person for things out of my control, i can't help who i was born to." another curse word she'll repent for. but remnants of anger are still left soaring through her, when you have been judged for it your entire life you finally realize you're not going to take it so lightly anymore. "no." she answers, she doesn't know who she is. but she's guessing she's someone who frequents the lounge looking for what she got tonight... or was. since she's sure she and alex have ruined their mood.

dumping her pockets of all the tools she had them filled with... screw driver, taser, mini hammer, phone. head turns towards him when his fingers touch her cheek, setting off an unwanted spark to burn beneath her chest. "i do have one." a first-aid kit, that's always a number one thing to have. "ever since you needed a walgreens trip, i've been inspired to keep one." helena would laugh, almost there with the start of a smile at the fond memory, until the said memory fades along with the smile that was just beginning to bloom across her face with ache because that was before everything he said to her tonight that's made her view him as a different person. words are not quickly forgotten, unfortunately. and now everything's tainted. even her favorite memories of him.

"let's go there, then. i'll get mine virgin though." not telling him it's because she's never drunk before, he'll make fun of her for it. "you'll need someone sober to drive you afterwards." she claims, pretending the tears stinging her eyes isn't because of the memories being tainted. blaming it on the cut across her jaw. "watch the road, i'll be okay." fingers gently wrap around his hand, slowly removing it from her face even her touch lingers a little extra longer against his skin before letting go completely.