#aka my favorite fucking food
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Mac and Cheese (x)
#food#food porn#macaroni and cheese#macaroni#aka my favorite fucking food#mac and cheese#cheese#cheese pull#baked macaroni#soul food#food gif#lustingfood#gif#gifset#mine
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byler + santa clarita diet au where will is sheila and mike is joel. you nod and clap and agree because you know that it fucks severely and fits them perfectly, yes
summary for the uninitiated:
#blood tw#mine#will is literally zombie boy n mike is Like That . liek. please ... . . it suits them so well they're already canonically halfway there#will Goes Thru Some Shit n comes back wrong aka he's actually zombie boy#mike is just like his canon s2 self. knows fuck-all abt what's going on with his monster bf but he tries his best bc one thing abt him is#he WILL support n defend not only will's gay rights ... but also his gay wrongs 🫶#they don the s2 tunnel outfits not to go into the tunnels obvi but bc they're making n packing will's 'lunches' for the week#hashtag meal planning bc mike breaks down 2 will one time n says if they're going to do this they're going to do it RIGHT gdi#sits down at his laptop later and scrolls through housewife pinterest for hours to get all the cleaning + meal planning tips#will says he's on a caveman diet or some other bullshit bc he can't eat people food anymore only raw meats#the party thinks its fucking Gröse n dustin doesn't buy it n el says eW wiLL [insert a grimace she 100% learned from mike here]#in the early days when they're still getting the hang of things or shit just goes fucky during um . well. them getting will some Lunch#they hit an artery or smth idk n get blood on mike's sweater and he whines abt it SO much and NEVER lets will forget tht it#was his FAVORITE sweater actually!!!! the things he does for love smh..... 🙄#clasps my hands 2gether. ok so which one of u is writing it then . teacher voice It's Okay I'll Wait .#DFBJHBDJHBFJDHJ#ideas
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man fuck profs that are shitty to students
#rant ahead y’all#just received the WORST email ever like fuck this prof#i have never been talked down on more in my life#for something that is literally their fault no less#like you’re really gonna make ME feel like an incompetent failure for just experiencing the consequences of something that should have been#YOUR responsibility?#and from my photography class too like :/ i was really hoping to enjoy this class but look what you did#istg i will never be like this when i teach#anyway at least i have my thesis adviser aka the gold standard on professorship#bless him i love him so much#i hope he gets to eat his favorite food every single day of his life#z.dump#rant
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BABY FEVER — CHOI SEUNGCHEOL ࿐
summary. after a picnic date at the park goes horribly wrong, all choi seungcheol wants for his birthday is to fuck a baby into you.
wc. 3.4k+
warnings. established relationship, kinda ? dom!cheol, f. reader, pussy-drunk-bitch-in-heat cheol, breeding kink, literal baby making, marriage kink if you squint, reader referred to as mommy (x2), unprotected sex, oral (f. receiving), light body worship (f. receiving), vulgar language… heavy praise, pet names [baby, angel, princess] — MINORS DNI 18+
note. it’s an international holiday (aka cheol day) hehehe HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY LVRBOY <333 forgive me bc this is actually so rough… i forced myself to finish it in time for his bday 😍 please be gentle!! i promise ill make it up to all of u with a MUCH better cheol fic -3- happy coupsie day 2 u all x (thank yew @jeonghantis for reading this for me TWICE and always encouraging me <3)
you have to admit, this is not how you thought seungcheol’s birthday lunch would pan out.
no, you definitely did not expect to end the day with your legs wrapped around your beloved boyfriend’s waist while he split you open on his cock, breathily promising that he’ll give you a baby. a ring. a life for the both of you.
because when you took said boyfriend out for a picnic in the park, you did expect a serene lunch date with him and his favorite food. you even wore the sundress he bought for your birthday. it was supposed to be the perfect gift.
but you hadn’t realized how busy it’d be. how could you have known? it was just a random tuesday afternoon in the midst of august– arguably the hottest month of the year. who, besides the two of you, would want to be out on a day like this?
rowdy, unrestrained children. that’s who.
it seems that children and parents have nothing better to do than crash birthdays and cause you massive headaches.
when you looked over at seungcheol on the blanket halfway through your food, you discerned the faraway look in his eyes. he hasn’t said much. much less of how he feels about his “gift.” he wasn’t there– probably disassociated because of the noise. you realized then that you probably should’ve picked a different spot… or stuck to the homemade candlelit dinner you had initially planned. or done literally anything else.
“cheollie… do you wanna leave?” you asked, concern laced in your voice. “we don’t have to stay, we can go home and do whatever you want.”
his jaw clenched and unclenched at the sound of your voice. he offered a shuddered breath and gave you a curt nod. “yeah, let’s go home.”
and so you did. you felt defeated as seungcheol bruisingly gripped the steering wheel the entire ride home. you felt defeated as you sat in the passenger seat thinking of ways to fix his now-ruined birthday. you felt defeated as you two rode away in silence. complete silence.
when you arrive back at your home, you dejectedly drop the basket off in the kitchen without bothering to unpack it. cheol stays on your tail the entire time, following you back to your room after throwing the keys on the island next to the picnic basket.
and when you reach your destination, you let him in before closing the door behind you and then he pounces. he has you pinned to said door in an instant.
completely thrown off by his change in behavior, you splutter out, “ch-cheol, what the fuck?!”
“baby,” he mutters breathily, his eyes scanning your features. the faraway look in his eyes has been replaced, both of them filled with something completely different. lust. it’s like the last hour never even happened.
he has you caged in. one of hands pressed flat against the door and the other gripping your waist. there’s a mere inch of a gap separating the two of you and you can feel all the heat radiating off of his body.
still wide-eyed, staring up at him, you softly– apprehensively– ask, “cheol? are you okay?”
admittedly, seungcheol is not okay. not in the slightest. he doesn’t want to scare you, but watching kids run around– hearing how happy they were– had him thinking thoughts. thoughts of having a kid of his own.
it had his heart fluttering at first, the idea of having a mini him running around the house. it filled him with the utmost joy.
then his thoughts escalated. thoughts of having a kid turned into thoughts of having a kid with you. thoughts of getting you round and pregnant with his child rotted large portions of his brain away.
and it progressively got worse and worse. with every passing minute, the images in his brain became more clear till the only thing on his mind was folding you in half and fucking a baby into you while you begged for it.
he’s not sure how to relay said thoughts to you. the two of you have been dating for years and you’re in a really good place, both financially and emotionally.
but dropping the ‘i want a kid’ bomb? before he’s even proposed? it’s taboo…untraditional… it’s something you potentially don’t even want, so he should ease into the conversation of children and marriage.
but…choi seungcheol thinks he’s lost the ability to think and speak clearly. that’s why he blurts it out without logically thinking it over, lost in a haze of lust and need and burning hot desire.
“wanna have a baby,”
your stomach drops and the air in your lungs vanishes, leaving you breathless.
“w-what…cheol? a baby?” you ask slowly. “you… wanna have a baby?”
a small growl bubbles in his chest when you repeat his words. “wanna give you a baby.”
heat creeps up your neck and within seconds– when you realize the intent of his words– your entire body burns as arousal courses through your veins. seungcheol doesn’t just want to have a kid… he wants to fuck one into you.
you can’t say you’ve never thought of having one before, but it was always farther down the line. after marriage and settling down.
even still, your stomach swirls in anticipation, imagining seungcheol as a father. as your husband.
so you reply, “do… do you think we’re ready for that? we’re still pretty young and… we aren’t married…”
your words trail off and you look away, eyes trained on his chest instead.
“i’m gonna marry you.” he says as a matter of factly. “look at me.” he demands, the hand next to your head moves to grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “there’s no doubt in my mind. i’m going to marry you, baby.”
hearing that is surreal. he’s said it twice and the words are still rattling around in your empty brain. he’s gonna marry you. there’s no doubt in his mind.
you’d think your heart is about to lurch out of your chest the way it pounds against your ribcage. your palms are dripping with sweat, your knees are buckling about ready to give out on you, your stomach is in knots because, fuck yes, you want this. you want him. and– you guessed it– you want to bear his child.
you don’t know how long you’ve been standing, blankly staring at him. before you can even speak up, seungcheol is dropping to his knees in front of you, both of his hands on your waist now.
you almost think he’s going to propose, leaving you even more speechless, but he leaves a soft kiss on your tummy. he’s gentle, kissing you through the fabric of your dress right above your navel. his lips venture down, though, and his pleading eyes look up at you waiting for your okay.
you let out the breath you were holding, nodding your head.
and cheol swears he would lose it if he hadn’t already.
he reaches for your panties under your dress, yanking them off your body and letting them pool at your feet. his hand moves to hold your dress up, wrinkling it in his grip. the other lifts one of your legs and drapes it over his shoulder before he finally dives into your cunt.
“cheol!” you gasp as you feel his tongue lay flat against your folds. your hands thread through his hair, gripping at his locks as he laps up your arousal. “sl-slow– fuck, baby– slow down,”
seungcheol is a giver, that’s always been common knowledge.
but you tend to forget that he is exceptionally greedy when it comes to eating you out. he can never get enough of you, slurping at your hole and sucking your clit till you’ve cum countless times on his face. a glutton for pussy, you could say.
it’s why he can’t slow down despite your request. his tongue digs into you while he noses at your clit, moaning against your cunt to bring you closer to the euphoric feeling you’ve been craving since he asked to fuck a baby into you.
and it works. it always does. your moaning and whining and begging and it’s fucking music to his ears.
“tastes so good, angel,” he moans against you, words coming out muffled. the vibrations shock your body and you can’t help but jolt, back arching off the door. your hands tighten their grip on his hair, pushing him further into your cunt.
and that’s the thing about seungcheol being insatiable. you always end up greedier than him. it’s like an orchestrated plan.
“more,” you beg through a whine, grinding your pussy into his face. “please more, feels s’good, cheollie,”
he groans against you again, digging his nails into your thigh eliciting your pretty mewls. he tightly wraps his lips around your clit, flicking the swollen bud with his tongue. you throw your head back against the door, eyebrows knitting together as you’re overcome with pleasure.
it hits you before you can even blink. you’re letting out a breathless mantra of seungcheol’s name, your stomach knots up, your breathing increases and you completely lose control as you let go all over his face.
he keeps eating you out, whining while lapping up your release as if he’d been deprived of the taste of your cum for weeks. as if he hadn’t eaten you out just last night. and the morning before that. and three times in a row the day before.
when he’s finally done, he gently sets your leg back down. he observes the way you tremble, struggling to keep balance so his hands are back on your waist, releasing the wrinkled fabric and letting it fall back over your legs.
he stands to his feet, towering over you once again. his hard cock strains in his jeans and he gives you a look that screams ‘i need you’ to which you look up at him with hooded eyes. the sheen of your arousal on his skin, his disheveled hair is quite the sight.
“baby…” he pants, inching closer to you.
“put one in me,” you whisper. you, too, have no doubt in your mind about this. about him. you want everything he’s offering to you. “fuck a baby into me, cheol, i want it. i want you.”
seungcheol thinks his life flashes before his eyes when he hears your words. he thinks, maybe, he mishears you for a second, but when you keep that expectant look on your face, he knows that this is very real. that he’s gonna fuck you full of cum and pray it takes.
he closes the gap between you, pressing his lips against yours.
it’s not your average kiss. it’s hot and heavy and, fuck, you think he just might eat you alive. his body is flush against yours now and you feel his bulge digging into your tummy.
feeling him like this has you craving the weight of his cock on your tongue, but you know cheol has no plan of relinquishing any type of control tonight. even if it does mean he’s missing out on the world’s best head.
you kick off your shoes and fumble with the button on his jeans while whining into his mouth. you eventually give up after the button doesn’t budge, wrapping your arms around his neck and grinding against his clothed bulge instead, basking in the way he groans back into your mouth.
he pulls back, swollen lips turning down in a cute pout, “baby, need to fuck you right now…”
you tug at his shirt, whispering, “then fuck me, cheol.”
a guttural groan bubbles in the back of his throat. he pulls your dress up by the hem, growling a soft, “off.”
“you first.”
he raises an eyebrow at you but doesn’t say anything else, tugging his shirt over his head and tossing it on to the ground. his hands are back on your dress, but you shake your head.
“pants, too,” you whisper with a cheeky smile.
“didn’t realize this was a strip tease,” he grumbles passively, stepping out of his shoes while his hands easily pop the button of his jeans and yanking them down his thick thighs.
your eyes flit down to his boxers and your saliva pools in your mouth, threatening to spill past your lips at the mere sight of his clothed hard-on.
he interrupts your gawking, gruff, stern voice filling your ears, “take your fucking dress off.”
you giggle, raising your arms. he’s not slow and he’s most certainly not gentle when he practically rips the dress up and off, discarding it into the pile of clothes that lay haphazardly on the floor.
he doesn’t even give you a second before grabbing– manhandling– you and guiding you to the bed.
he lays you down and internally melts. “you’re so gorgeous, baby,” he mumbles, spreading your legs open and eyeing your pulsing cunt. “you’re perfect.”
you don’t know how it’s possible at this point, but you grow even hotter. feverish. you always love his praise and you know he’s well-aware of the fact because he smirks as you squirm and clench around nothing.
“cheollie,” you whimper.
his hands splay over your bare stomach and his cock throbs as an array of dirty thoughts re-enter his mind.
“you’re gonna look so cute when i put a baby in you, isn’t that right?” he murmurs, hands ghosting over your skin before they land on your tits, fondling them through your bra without a care in the world. “gonna be such a pretty mommy…” he tells you, voice dropping an octave.
you moan at the contact and his promiscuous words. arousal drools from your hole, surely soaking a puddle into the sheets under you. you’re not sure how much longer you can wait for him to impale you on his cock before you become a weeping mess.
you whine, eyes threatening to close, “please make me a mommy, cheollie.”
seungcheol lets out a sharp breath, quickly removing his hands from your tits, opting on using them to push his boxers down.
when his length slaps against his abdomen, he lets out a soft groan. he doesn’t wait for anything else, grabbing his cock, spitting on it, stroking it a few times and, finally, pushing his angry red tip against your hole.
when the head of his cock gets trapped between the warm walls of your cunt, seungcheol curses. “tightest fuckin’ thing,” he mutters, shoving himself deeper and deeper, listening to your high-pitched whines and whimpers.
and when he’s finally balls deep inside of you, his eyes flicker up from your pussy swallowing him whole to your contorted, fucked out face that he loves dearly.
he’s breathless, asking, “you good, baby?”
you offer a broken nod and a weak, “s’good.”
it’s all he needs to hear before standing all the way up on his knees, grasping at your waist, and lifting your lower back off the bed.
you squeal, “cheol! what are you–”
you’re cut off by your own yelp when he pulls out and slams back into you without much of a warning. his cock reaches deeper than you think you’ve ever felt and it has your eyes rolling back and your hands pulling the sheets off the bed.
his hips are relentless, continuously driving his cock in and out of you at an impressive speed while groaning out words of praise. you feel his tip bruisingly kiss your cervix and the pained pleasure brings tears to your eyes.
“s-seungcheol–” you sob, arching further into the air.
“i know, baby,” he moans in response. “but, fuck, you’re taking it so well. look so fucking pretty taking my cock like this.” he wants to throw his head back in pleasure, but he can’t bear to tear his eyes away from you.
tears helplessly fall down the sides of your face and your mouth is cracked open, letting out the most gorgeous sounds. your tits spill from your bra, bouncing with every thrust and it’s too good. you look too fucking good.
and you’re going to look even better with his cum leaking out of your cunt.
you ache with the partial bridge seungcheol has you in. you’re not sure if you want to focus on the profound pain or intense pleasure, but when he drops your body back on the bed and his thumb catches your clit, you have no other choice.
you gasp, crying out and clamping around him with an iron grip, “fuh-fuck! cheol– cheollie!”
he growls, rubbing the sensitive bud faster and faster. “you gonna cum for me?”
you pant, chest heaving as you nod your head vigorously. your eyes screw shut and your jaw drops further as you feel the familiar knotting in your tummy. your impending orgasm bubbles in the pit of your belly, a stream of whines and moans leaving your mouth.
“cum f’me, angel.” he coaxes breathily, cock twitching and throbbing inside of you. “s’gonna feel so good, just cum for me.” he practically begs and you think it’s because he’s just as close.
you can’t even find it in you to care because the onslaught of pleasure wracks your body. you clench around him once, twice, three times– and, before you know it, the knots in your tummy come completely undone and you’re left a shaking mess under him.
“that’s it, that’s my fucking girl.” he nearly whines, fucking you through your orgasm while you jerk and thrash on the bed. “god, i love this pussy, your body, everything, baby– i love you.”
you cry, silently praying he’ll press his lips against yours because, god, you love him, too. so much. but your voice is hoarse and you don’t think you can conjure up the words to give him.
it’s like he reads your mind, slipping his hand in between your tits and pulling your body up by the material of your bra and wraps his arms around your body. his mouth presses against yours, swallowing all of your sounds as you swallow his.
your arms wrap around his neck, sobbing in overstimulation as he kisses the life out of you. when he pulls away, you wrap your legs around his waist, the heels of your feet digging into his lower back. you continue to whine, burying your face into his sweaty neck to muffle the noises.
he holds you tighter, pounding into you without any regard to your sounds. “gonna fill you up, princess. gonna fuck you full of my cum, give you a baby, marry you,” he grunts loudly. “everything. gonna– fuck– gonna give you everything.”
you nod, sinking your teeth into his neck.
and seungcheol can’t hold back, moaning your name before pressing his cock as far as he can go and stilling there. ribbons of his release coat your bruised walls and you feel the warmth radiate throughout your body.
cheol’s pants slowly morph into breathy chuckles as he comes to terms with what he’s done.
you shudder, feeling full in more ways than one. you pull your head from the crook of his neck, looking at his gummy grin and dazed eyes and you give him a lopsided grin. you look so content, even after he nearly fucked the life out of you.
“was it too much?” he asks gently after a few minutes of silently staring at each other.
“a lil…” you whisper, weakly clamping around him. “you know i love it when you get like this, though.”
“i know.” he mumbles, unraveling himself from you to marvel at his work. he pulls out of you and watches the way his cum slowly dribbles out of your hole. he can’t help but groan at the sight. “you think this’ll be enough, angel?”
“a few more rounds probably wouldn’t hurt.” you giggle.
“that can probably be arranged.” he hums cheekily. “but, seriously, baby. thank you… for today. you always know how to surprise me.”
“really? i kinda… thought you hated the whole picnic lunch date,” you murmur. “thought i ruined your day.”
“no, baby, i loved it.” he says through a smile, kissing the corner of your mouth. “it was great, i swear… i just thought about fucking a baby into you a little too hard.”
“i’m really glad.” you smile, “and, now that you hopefully did… how would you rate year 28?”
“10/10. truly the best birthday ever.” he says. “i got everything i ever wanted.”
© cheolhub — all rights reserved, please refrain from copying, reposting, modifying or translating my work on any platform.
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hello!!! I was wondering if you could write a part 2 for dilf!konig? I didn't think I would be into it, but I read it and... it's awakened something in me. i need more dilf!konig
thank you!!!!!!!
A/n: so you, my lovely little sluts, seem to really like my smutty silly headcanons. But don’t worry babies, I have some more to satiate your hunger😌
Part 1 here
Dilf! König headcanons pt 2
Warnings: NSFW, mdni, smut, fem! reader, age-gap implied, unprotected sex, cheating (I know, I’m sorry🙄), nasty nastiness
Dilf! König, whom you reach out the next day with a cute “hi, it’s me Y/n<3” text, and a few hours later end up in his hotel room, pressed onto plush mattress of his king sized bed as König bullied his throbbing cock into your poor drooly pussy, meaty thighs hitting your ass with loud smacking sounds that, along with your shameless moans and whimpers, bounced off the tall walls, causing hotel staff to knock onto room’s door, asking as politely as possible to be more quiet in order not to disturb other hotel guests (*cough* the whole fucking floor *cough*).
Dilf! König, who, while still at your place, takes his godchild and you to the aquapark under the guise of “spending some quality time with younglings while he can”. You can’t stop sneaking glances at his massive chiseled body, decorated with numerous battle scars, laughing nervously as your best friend asks if everything is okay, since you’ve been zoning out too much lately.
Dilf! König, who riles you you absolutely stupid in the privacy of a small cafeteria bathroom as his godchild aka your best friend is way too occupied trying out all of these crazy slides to actually pay any attention to the two of you. He cums so much inside of your puffy cunny, sliding your thong back in place and murmuring “want you to carry a piece of me wherever you go” sweetly into your ear, smacking your ass playfully as you leave on trembling legs, exiting himself a few moments later as to rise no suspicions.
Dilf! König, who smirks ever so slightly when he sees some young dudes approximately your age unsuccessfully trying to hit on you, failing miserably to gain even a second of your blissful attention. He notices how you rub your thighs together ever so slightly, and if he watches closely enough, König may even see a little dark spot on your bottoms - his pearly cum oozing out of your fucked-out pussy, staining bright fabric of your sexy swimsuit.
Dilf! König, who buys you tickets to Vienna in first class and pays for your luxurious hotel room, just so you can meet again. He greets you with a huge bouquet of tulips (bc roses are plain as fuck, duh🙄) at the airport, giving you a warm hug and asking how your journey was, driving to his favorite restaurant to feed you some traditional Austrian food. He shows you around all the significant places of Vienna, giving you a little excursion, telling your all the stories and myths behind certain places.
Dilf! König, who that night has you splayed out onto huge queen-sized bed of your hotel room, eating your pretty pussy out like a man starved, sucking on your needy puffy clit and fucking your tight hole with three thick fingers while desperately rutting his hips into soft mattress, trying to get at least some type of friction against his achingly hard dick.
Dilf! König who soon has you begging for his heavy cock inside of your pussy, fucking your brains out until you’re a babbling silly mess writhing on white sheets, nothing more than a boneless puddle in his skilled hands. And he is more than happy to comply with all your little whims.
Dilf! König, who actually has a wife with whom he has been married for over ten years. The spark between them long gone, it’s more like two acquaintances living together rather than a married couple - continuing sharing one house and one bed more out of a habit - simply because both are used to that, not bothered enough to move out. Both König and his wife are perfectly aware of each other’s flings on the side, but still not caring enough to actually do something about it. All hopes of saving their marriage are long gone and forgotten, none of two having any wish to actually deal with their spouse.
Dilf! König who takes special interest in you. You, pretty little thing, so youthful and full or energy, so hopelessly romantic with heart so full of love that König almost drowns in it. You are the sparkle he so lacks in his grey taunted life, you’re the positive adrenaline he craves so much. You give him butterflies flaring in his guts and electric shocks running down his spine whenever König’s lips meet yours in a searing kiss - and he quickly became addicted to that feeling, not planning on letting go of you anytime soon.
Dilf! König who basically becomes your sugar daddy. He loves spoiling his precious baby, lavishing you with designer clothes and fancy jewelry, taking you to vacations all around the world whenever he has time free from work. He makes a lot of money as a colonel - so much that he doesn’t know what to do with it. So why not spurge on his favorite girl? And what König likes even more is to rip these unbelievably expensive togs off, revealing your sexy body; to see all these sparkly jewels jiggle and kling softly as he pounds you with his thick cock, watching your face contort in pleasure so strong it almost hurts, but you’re way too greedy to stop him, only begging for more.
Dilf! König, who has absolutely no idea how this all is going to end up like. Numerous scenarios and possibilities playing in his head nonstop - finally divorcing his wife and marrying you instead. You getting over him and moving on with your own life, leaving König and everything related to him behind. Him getting killed on one of the missions, and you not having a single clue as to why he so suddenly disappeared. These and many others - but one thing König is absolutely fucking sure of is that he will never get bored of you. And no matter what happens, he’ll never turn you, his little angel, down. You’re his favorite precious girl, after all<3
Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is very important, give us writers some love!<3
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trouble, m | jjk
... aka, jeon jungkook’s dick is so good and your pussy is so heavenly that faith in humanity is restored.
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
warnings: rated M (18+) for language; a hookup turned awkward meeting at a goddamn McDonalds of all places; smut (fem reader, hair pulling, heavy making out, m-receiving oral, doggy, penetrative sex, fingering, m-masturbation); non-idol!BTS – ft best friend!Park Jimin being a wingman little shit classic
--
“Oh, I’m in trouble.”
Panic coursed throughout his veins.
“I can’t be here.”
And maybe a little bit of arousal too.
“Jungkook, this is a public place,” Park Jimin corrected him. “Anybody can be at McDonald’s.”
He almost got up from his seat, except he was boxed in a corner of a crowded fast-food restaurant and Jimin shoved the tray full of food right in front of his face. The other side of the table held various shopping bags full of things that Jimin thought his mother would like for the upcoming new year. Why did Jeon Jungkook have to be here? Well, he was the one guy from Busan who happened to be Jimin’s close friend and Jimin’s mother’s favorite friend of her son’s. Therefore, Jungkook obviously had to select something for Jimin to buy just so Jimin could say, Jungkook thought you would look nice in this cream sweater, thus gaining maximum best son points.
Yeah, Jungkook didn’t really get it either, but he was told that he was getting free food out of it.
Didn’t think it was going to be McDonald’s, though.
Also didn’t think that his fuck from last night was going to serendipitously appear, standing in line looking drop-dead gorgeous as she pushed the fur-lined hood of her coat back. Her lush hair spilled out in soft waves over the shoulders of that the black suede long-line stunner, far too much luxury for the city mall. And then there was her face. What god thought it would be funny to allow someone to look that effortlessly pretty bare-faced? Who put such sexy eyes on such a cute face? One glance and one would think, how cute with those dimples and pillowy lips, and then do a double take when the shape of those foxy eyes sunk in, holy shit, fuck me right now. Or, at least Jungkook had thought that. Still thought it, looking at her again in the daylight. Tight white top, heather gray sweatpants that didn’t match the lavishness of the jacket, and easy black-and-white sneakers, clearly everything thrown together to grab some food quickly while being a goddamn snack herself.
Jimin was carefully positioning Jungkook’s meal in front of him – fries, massive sandwich with both a beef patty and fried chicken patty, tall Coca-Cola and all, chatting away, and all Jungkook could do was gawk like an idiot.
Like he said, he was in trouble.
Tomorrow.
The ghost of her hand slid up his chest, caressing his skin while her voice curled by his ear, soft lips kissing down his neck.
I hope your friends ask about me.
The image entering his mind, the way she smiled above him, her skin alight from his mood lamp with specks of red light playfully dancing over her jaw, her fingertips tracing his muscle making his heart race, her soft thighs against his, smooth and sleek and making him insane.
The devil was in the details.
“Hello? Did you space out again?”
Jungkook jumped, startled that Jimin was glaring at him. “What?”
Those small hands stiffly pointed to the food spread before them. “Eat? Come on, it’s busy and we don’t want to take up too much time.”
“R… Right.”
He had about two seconds to take a bite out of his sandwich before Jimin casually asked in between bites of curly fries, “Oh yeah, you ran off last night with that sexy lady. How did that go?”
Jungkook choked.
-
That’s all I am, sex and shallow feelings, tch, what an idiot, acting like it was ever anything else, I don’t need anyone and I won’t need anyone, go ahead and act all high and mighty in front of your friends during the day, we all know you’ll be begging to crawl in my bed at night.
Mind a billion thoughts a minute.
You tilted your head and found yourself not that hungry. Still, some fries and a drink sounded good, so you picked that. Reached into the fur by your chest and pulled out your cardholder, tapping it to pay as you continued scowling in your head, trying not to let it show in the form of resting-bitch-face.
Ten minutes before this moment had been an annoying confrontation. You considered if you could have handled it better.
Or more savagely.
You should have pulled up all those messages you had left on read.
Sigh, but, no, you hadn’t thought of it. Ultimately, it wasn’t worth your time. It would have been a childish move. Why was that anyway? Why was it that you needed to be the “bigger person” and not be petty when some guy got all up in your face about you not wanting a relationship as his supposed friends crowded around in a circle around you two, clearly silently intimidating you? In public! Fuckin’ bum-rushed you on the street as if the showy dramatics would illicit shame or obedience. Yeah, because you were a woman who would just kill to be in a relationship, right? You scoffed internally. ‘Cause it was just so important to be in a relationship, more than, oh, I don’t know, actively not being in one that was definitely, absolutely gonna make you miserable?
Also, he hadn’t even been that good in bed.
“At least I am sex. You couldn’t even be that for a slut with as low standards as me,” was your frigid reply before walking away.
You couldn’t understand it. What was so great about relationships anyway? People only got into them for easy sex. A lotta work for a shitty time. You could get laid without the emotional baggage of another, thank you.
Although, sex probably wasn’t easy for people who acted like little bitches.
Hah.
You thanked the employee and accepted your food, wandering over to the drinks fountain with your paper cup. A basic day of running errands on your off-day now ruined by this bullshit. Nothing a little McDonald’s couldn’t fix though. Something about the nostalgia of hot, simple, cheap fast food made it more delicious. You probably should have gotten a sandwich or something, but you didn’t want to be too full and not want to do your errands after. Fried potatoes it was.
Hey, people called you sex, not the epitome of health.
You notched your finger on the tab and watched the honey-sweetened black ice tea pour out of the nozzle, which was the exact moment your intrusive thoughts popped up.
You avoid making deep relationships so that no one will notice when you die.
Thanks, brain.
Funnily enough, no one had ever said this to you. You would think someone would have noticed by now but, no, this was a revelation you made yourself once you were old enough to understand yourself better, and it came randomly while showering. Hmph. Goddamn showers. You slipped past a lovey-dovey couple to sit by the window counter, plopping down on one of the stools to munch on your fries for a bit. Alone. Some people wanted a lot of people to surround them. A sense of community and togetherness. Some people wanted a chosen few, valuing the quality over quantity. And some people were like you, loners who accepted who you were and that was NSFS – not safe for society – patiently waiting for the one that really understood you.
Or maybe there wasn’t anyone like you and you were just delusional about that.
Anyway, didn’t really matter. This kind of thing simply ended with thinking in circles. Sure, you could dwell on the whole question of existence, the why, but you had determined the more important was the who, the self within, and that wasn’t driven by the why. The who was driven by instinct.
If your instinct was to eat, fuck, sleep, repeat, then so be it.
Oh, and occasional responsibilities, like getting your tires rotated. Hence why you even outside today in the first place.
Hah, what a bother.
You munched on your crispy, hot fries and didn’t bother anyone. You learned not to expect too much out of people. They talked a lotta talk and didn’t walk much walk. I want this, this, and this, you heard a whole lot and nobody did it. A speech was all well and good, just not nearly as half as interesting as doing. And if you didn’t want to do it, you didn’t waste time beating yourself up over it. If that resulted in you only hooking up and avoiding relationships that you didn’t feel like committing to, then at least you weren’t disingenuous or fake.
Yup.
Looking out the window, you watched the people rush past with their shopping bags, linking arms with each other to avoid slipping on the sidewalk. Snow flurries falling down, down. The glass was clean enough that you could see inside the restaurant too. Tables with families and friends sharing simple, cheap fast food and turning it into a collective memory. Laughter and conversation echoed around your silence.
The looking glass showed you two ways.
You didn’t mind it, but it was evident you weren’t part of it too.
Hmmmm.
Your gaze stopped at a pair of guys. One of them was wearing a big black bucket hat. You noticed him because large brown eyes were actively staring back at you. Ogling, even.
What the–
You turned slightly and sat up straight with alarm as Jeon Jungkook stiffened and shifted, scooting closer to the person next to him, sneaking a not-so-subtle glance at you. You continued to look back in stunned confusion.
At goddamn McDonald’s?
Is no place sacred?
It was only less than twenty-four hours ago, but last night felt like another world.
-
Your fingers framing your face.
You licked your lips. Staring into his eyes, everything dark except for the mood lamp he left on. Cycling lights slowly drifted on the ceiling in a colorful haze. It was easy to remember all the shit people liked to say about you when you were alone, she’s so pretty but I hear she’s only into casual sex, what a shame, but you found solace in knowing that they had one fact wrong, because casual sex was for casuals and that was the wrong adjective to describe what you did.
Definitely the incorrect one to describe what transpired between you and Jeon Jungkook last night.
Your hand slipped from your cheek, and you touched his skin, bringing his face close to yours, keeping the whispers only in the air that you shared with those trembling lips.
“You’ve got cute eyes, but I bet you can be sexy when you want to.”
What was wrong with this? What was wrong with your comfort zone being someone else’s hands on your waist, pulling you closer? What was wrong with accepting the surge of power you felt licking the side of his mouth, adding slippery friction to the harshness of the metal rings pierced there, drinking in his moan as you teased him? It was just so annoying caring about all that noise trying to get to you, telling you to tone it down, telling you to stop, and, for what, don’t you have shame, that’s not how women should act, no. What they really meant was that was not how they would act. The consensus was to strive to be the respectable audience, always strive to fit in and be the quiet ones.
You envied their desire for silence.
Because you had to be loud.
You tangled your fingers in his long black hair and pulled his head back, running your tongue over his neck, tasting that skin and the anticipation vibrating in those muscles underneath. Admired the shivers under your body as you rolled into him, nice and slow and agonizing, whispering dirty things to him, things you wanted and none of it safe for work, finally bringing his head back down to nip at those gasping lips, intending on turning them pink and prickling with want, kissing him softly in contrast to the way you tugged at his hair every time he tried to intensify it.
“P-Please…”
His hands on your bare ass, hiking your dress up, digging his fingernails in, trying to keep his breathing even as desperation bled into it.
“You said to show you what I like,” you murmured. “I like teasing you.”
You pressed your body to his so your perfume would cling to his clothes, his bedsheets, his skin.
-
This was going to sound dramatic, but Jungkook was pretty sure last night she saved his life.
Actually.
That sounded very dramatic.
And kind of pathetic, so Jungkook kept that thought to himself, but nevertheless he kept that secret close to his chest, next to his racing heart that couldn’t seem to slow down, especially when her nails raked down his back while her tongue snaked around his, sucking on it lightly compared to the force behind her hands, the contrast between kiss and touch causing unbearable levels of arousal. He hadn’t expected a casual conversation to turn into this. He liked to think he was maybe charming, perhaps suave in some cases, occasionally daring, but he didn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
And Jungkook knew he didn’t want to get in too deep unless he was sure and the truth was that he wasn’t sure if he was ever going to want someone that much. It was fucking terrifying to be that vulnerable. How could he ever be “sure”? If he failed at his own goals, the only one he was letting down was himself. If his plans didn’t go as planned, well, that sucked but it was okay because it was only himself and he could do something about it. But getting his heart broken by someone else – ugh, what could he do about that? Worse, everything became so complicated when people didn’t say what they meant and didn’t mean what they say. It would be nice to experience the good stuff without the chance of getting his heart broken.
Cut out all that risky business.
It was a bit strange that this situation hadn’t felt like a risk. Of course it was, how was it not risky bringing a woman you barely knew to your apartment with the intent to make out and who knows what else, but, hey, the moment had felt right.
Or maybe it was the gods playing tricks on him.
But, anyway, her tongue wrapping around his balls felt amazing.
She pressed her soft lips to the sensitive skin and sent shivers through his legs as her fingernails dragged down his tense thighs. He hoped they left marks, or at least lingered for a few hours. Looking down, and those sly eyes were gazing back, like they knew exactly the effect they had on him. Sparkling when her name escaped his lips in a pleading whisper, glinting in the low light as her head tipped back and her tongue curled underneath his balls to lick that thin skin behind him, making him gasp and almost fall over, his palm smacking into the wall to hold him up. A jolt of radiating pain shot up his forearm, and then her hot, wet mouth surrounded him and swallowed his cock as deep as it would go.
He wanted to say he had made a sexy moan, but he was ninety-nine percent sure his neighbors were awake, so instead Jungkook whimpered and rested the crown of his head against the wall, feeling his hair stick to his face. Apparently, his embarrassing vocalizations didn’t matter though, because her head started slowly moving back and forth. Her eyes closed, humming steadily in satisfaction. His breath caught in his throat, forgetting all about the pain and instead drowning in the pleasure that rose like scalding steam. Ecstasy shimmered through every blood vessel in his body. Soft lips, swirling tongue, tight throat that closed in around the swollen head and pulsed, pulling him in deeper, and Jungkook could feel it, his cock twitching and getting harder, the insistent softness on the cusp of not enough, and yet so much was happening. Flexing wet muscle under the head every time she backed up, trapped in that warm sleeve, her cheeks sucking inward and drawing him deeper every time her lips pressed into his crotch, her graceful fingers fanning over his thighs and ass, stroking his tingling skin in time with her tongue.
Holy fuck.
Maybe it was dramatic that last night she saved his life by blowing his dick with such incredible skill, but Jungkook was sticking to this drama.
Wasn’t casual sex supposed to be wham, bam, thank you, next. Not, holy shit, my cock is so fucking deep in her throat I can feel her neck muscles flexing, but perhaps he had done some good deeds or this year was going to be extra prosperous in the sex front (it wasn’t a question that came up much among those elderly fortune tellers his mom visited, how odd). It had to be something like that, because how was he supposed to know the friend of a friend was going to be, one, hot, and, two, down to fuck, and, three, actually good at it?
And, four.
Readily manhandle him. But not in a threatening way. In an unafraid-to-say-and-get-what-she-wanted way. The direct, forward assertiveness was sexy as hell, but Jungkook wasn’t going to tell other people that he liked it when a woman took charge. That wasn’t exactly small talk. It didn’t come up naturally. He didn’t even tell the women he had previously slept with. It hadn’t felt like the right atmosphere. And, well, the sex was just okay. He figured he had to be careful in what he said when he wasn’t sure if they were going to be long term.
He had to cover his ass.
Speaking of.
Her fingernails sank into his ass and dragged down harshly as she tilted her head back. His throbbing cock slid down along the back of her throat, sending uncontrollable tremors up his chest and down his legs, pain and pleasure and perfection.
Jungkook slapped a hand over his mouth and let out a muffled half-scream.
She started focusing exclusively on the head, back and forth, running her tongue over it with her plush lips constricting the base, holy shit, and his eyes rolled back in his head, his hand falling, exhale thin and thinning out even more as he was reaching the end. It was too unexpectedly good, fuck, it made the muscles in his back tremble and his blood boil, o-oh, fuck, made his heart race and his calves strain with tension, I’m gonna c-cum, made his scalp tingle and his mind go blank with pleasure and he never thought an orgasm could be this intense unless he was the one getting himself off, but he was wrong, he was so fucking wrong, because he could feel the tightening in his core spiraling a bit too much and he was going to lose his fucking mind.
He gasped and screamed under his breath.
The high hit him like the sudden violent snap of elastic, so sharp that he was winded and able to feel the muscles of upper thighs spasm, shooting a rather impressive amount down her throat, almost regretful he didn’t pull out so that he could see how much it was, but none of that mattered, ensnared in wave after punishing wave of indecent, gratified lust flinching through his shaking, hard muscles as he felt his cum fill her mouth.
She swallowed.
Jungkook almost punched the wall, the oversensitivity almost painful, his hoarse voice on the verge of cracking.
“C… Careful…. P-Please…”
Those eyes flickering up, and she seemed to understand. Gently, pulling back just a little. He almost buckled at the sensation of the sucking lessening, such a good feeling but overwhelming in the afterglow, and then it was cloud-nine bliss, achingly perfect in the way she carefully slid his cock along her tongue, his twitching length gliding in the puddle of saliva and cum, repeatedly, soaring high like the moon, the thick viscosity creating a slick friction that was wicked heaven.
He wanted to say, oh, yeah, I lasted a long time after that.
He did not.
I’m in trouble.
He realized that the second she got on her knees on his bed, raised her ass, and turned her head back to smirk at him. Made direct eye contact as he tried to hide his gulp and put on the condom, keeping his hands low so she didn’t see them quiver. He was staring a bit too much, but she simply reached over and took his right hand, caressing his tattoos, and then he gasped as his fingers touched slippery wetness, looking down, and was he allowed to fall in love with a beautiful pussy at first glance or not allowed? Fuck, she even had a cute asshole. Was that too dirty to think or what?
Jungkook didn’t contemplate it too much as she slid his fingers into her, the soft, firm walls wrapping around him.
“Ready?” she hummed.
“Y- Yeah…”
In hindsight, he could have said much sexier things other than, yeah, but that was the least of his problems. Getting on his knees, sinking in, and he nearly blacked out with how good it felt. A steady controlled pulse surrounding him. Somehow, his cock became even harder, his fingers splaying out over the juicy curve of her ass, deeper, so tight, and it was all her, that cute face smiling back at him with the tip of her tongue tracing her upper lip. Naughty smirk widening, captivating foxy eyes filled with mirth shining in the darkness of his bedroom.
Jungkook didn’t even care.
He was just trying not to bust a nut at this excessive amount of sensuality that he hadn’t been prepared for.
“You look very sexy with your hair over your face like that.”
He hadn’t even noticed the strands of black covering his vision because he had been too busy looking down.
“Your back looks… oh, f-fuck… looks so beautiful…”
She grinned and lowered herself on his sheets to push back against him.
He had stuttered because her pussy had squeezed him in between his words. There wasn’t any time to be eloquent anyway, not with the sudden need surging through him at this improved angle, his grip on her hips tightening and thrusting his hips forward, wincing at how loud that smack was, surely someone outside heard, but there was nothing he could do about it, didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop, sinking his teeth into his lower lip and trying not to add any additional noise, wanted to slow down but it felt so good when he was so deep, so tight and choking his shaft, the sensitive head of his cock rubbing against her walls and swelling. Even with the condom he felt so much, pressure and power and intensity, placing a palm on her lower back and groaning between clenched teeth, the arc of her ass so obvious and the bounce so visible that he would dream about it, all of it, the slaps of body to body, thrusting hard, rough, his ears tingling with her low, sexy moans, too good, felt too good, and he wanted to last longer but just couldn’t.
Threw his head back and yelled under his rushing exhale, straining to contain his cry in his chest.
Didn’t last much longer with a new condom and in missionary position either. He kept staring at her pretty face and perky tits, feverish desire racing with every slap of hips-to-hips, his hair falling into his eyes, struggling to see her hands clutching his pillows, and then she arched her back to give him a full view of those perfect, tasty-looking, hard nipples. Honestly, he was proud of himself for lasting the ten minutes that he did. Five minutes. Er, at least he hoped he lasted more than five minutes.
He was sweaty and gasping but he asked anyway.
“Sorry, I… Are you upset at me?”
She tilted her head, confused. “For what? That felt amazing.”
His face burned as he mumbled under his breath.
“I… I usually last longer…”
“Oh.” Blink. “Oh!” She grinned at him, and it was so devious that Jungkook realized this must not be the first time she had heard that. “I don’t care about things like that. But, uh…”
Her sex saved his life.
Her next words murdered him on the spot.
“You know, when you came, uh… I’m sure you were trying to be quiet and all that, but you sounded a bit like one of those faraway screams that happen in movies. You know, when someone gets thrown far away mid-battle. A very tiny, aaaaaaa…”
Not the best sex of his life comparing his orgasm noise to the Wilhelm scream.
-
You could admit it.
You shouldn’t have said that.
But also shouldn’t people be told of such things so that they became more self-aware? It took everything in you not to burst out laughing in his presence (although you did laugh a lot when you arrived home). And it wasn’t as if you were going to see him again. For a while, anyway. Definitely not the next day at goddamn McDonald’s.
Right?
Wrong.
You gawked at Jungkook until the other guy with him noticed and started staring at you too. Oh, jeez, it was Park Jimin, another one of the guys who had been there last night at the birthday party. You remembered him and his distinctive, bubbly giggling all night. He had a great voice too, making listening to karaoke actually bearable. He was, however, the kind of guy that wanted to be in the know about everything and everyone.
Aw, shit.
You weren’t ready for another repeat of this morning.
Jimin’s round, discerning eyes recognized you immediately even in your casual clothes and lack of makeup. You snapped your head back to your empty paper packaging. Snatched up your cup, pushing away from the window counter and stepping down, winding over to the drinks machine to top off on tea before sprinting it. Hey, McDonald’s wasn’t that cheap anymore. Inflation was a thing. Better get as much as you could before leaving.
You tossed the oily packaging and your napkin before turning around, immediately nearly colliding with Jeon Jungkook.
“Gah!”
“Oh!”
And he grabbed your waist.
Of course, he did.
Your bare waist, because you were wearing a crop top under your heavy coat.
You kept your drink-holding hand out of the way and gasped into his chin, your other hand landing on his left upper arm and squeezing, suddenly tense all over. It was hard and solid under your grip, twice as tense as you were.
“S-Sorry, Jimin pushed me…”
You vaguely heard Jungkook mumbling but you didn’t have time for this, didn’t have time to be let down again by humanity. Didn’t have time for Jeon Jungkook getting into your face about you fucking and dipping, scolding you about being too blunt, and possibly even directly calling you a bitch. Not that you didn’t deserve it. You just didn’t want to find out that cute-faced, criminally-undercover-sexy, surprisingly-a-very-good-fuck Jeon Jungkook could maybe be a shitty person.
Didn’t want to know.
Better not to know.
“S’okay. Let me get out of your way,” you mumbled back, turning your head away.
“You’re not in my way.”
You heard him say it, didn’t believe it, and yet his hands were still around your waist.
“Actually… Please be in my way.”
You froze.
Snapped your head back and found yourself centimeters from Jeon Jungkook’s face.
Oh, I’m in trouble.
He let go of you, slowly, his touch hovering as if you would make a break for it in the middle of this crowded McDonald’s, as if you would bowl over small children and their Happy Meals to escape, sending plastic toys flying in your wake. But you did no such thing, instead holding your breath, realizing how upset you would be if this was another you’re an insensitive whore moment. The truth was that you didn’t care until you did, or at least until you fully comprehended that you were glad to see Jungkook rather than completely indifferent. Why? He hadn’t said anything special. Just, please make it home safely. You had thought that was weird, please. Brushed it off as him being polite or even maybe trying to entice you with that light touch of submissiveness, anything but the possibility of him actually, honestly, straightforwardly caring about your safety.
You learned to expect people not caring for much except for themselves.
“I… Good afternoon,” you managed to get out, stepping closer as a crowd of kids squashed themselves against the drinks fountain, clambering over each other with their paper cups, yelling about how you snooze, you lose even though there was plenty of soda in a fast-food restaurant.
An adult, presumably a guardian, ran over to tell them to quiet down.
“Y… Yeah…” was Jungkook’s strangled reply, startled at you attempting conversation.
You held your sweet tea and tried to lightly bow, but realized that you could hit him in the chin if you did. You stepped aside to avoid that, and then his hand darted out. Stopping. Suddenly aware of what he was doing, stuck on what to do, looking at you helplessly for instruction. This was some love song or romcom movie shit.
No.
This was a goddamn McDonald’s, not awkward-sexual-tension meeting grounds. You grabbed his hand and pulled him along, spinning to find yourself crammed into the table with a grinning Park Jimin and too many shopping bags.
“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you here.”
Jimin was stifling his giggles.
You immediately let go of Jungkook’s hand, your face frozen and expressionless.
“Ah, Jungkook, can you watch my food?” Was it your imagination or did Park Jimin just bat his eyelashes? “I’m gonna go put the gifts in my car.”
Oh no.
“Stay right there!”
Jungkook looked mortified. “Jimin, wait–”
But he did not wait. Ruffled fluffy black hair, mischievous smile, and a whoosh later, those crinkly paper bags gone like a disappearing act, leaving you and your fuck of last night with a half-eaten sandwich and cold fries.
“I… He… I’m sorry,” Jungkook sputtered, jerking erratically.
You clutched your tea like a liquid social safety net. “Sit down. Children are staring at us.”
Sure enough, a small crowd of curious peepers were climbing the low half-wall and peering at you and Jungkook. They were being plucked off one by one by a pair of exasperated ladies who looked like they desperately needed a nap. As soon as one child was removed, another climbed up to take their place. Inquisitive little bundles in brightly colored jackets, pom-pom beanies, and sipping soda from paper cups. Jungkook whipped his head back, exposing his red ears under his bucket hat for half a second, saw the kids, and sat down beside you, turning his back to them.
Now even bigger peepers were directed at you.
“Uh…”
You cleared your throat. Drank some tea. “Erm.”
“I... I didn’t expect to see you here.”
You almost choked on your chuckle. “Yeah, uh… same.” You ticked your head to the outside, in the general direction Jimin had run off too. “Shopping for new year stuff?”
Jungkook shrugged. “Mostly for Jimin’s family. I usually shop online.” He scrunched his face with a little bit of dismay. “It’s too much on the weekends sometimes.”
“Yeah, I’m the same.”
Your knee touched his.
He looked at you.
Don’t look at me like that. I’m gonna want to kiss you.
“And we’re in the middle of a McDonald’s.”
“What?”
You could see stray strands of black brushing against his cheeks. Could see those starry brown eyes under that big bucket hat, those pink lips parted and that small mole underneath them trembling, something you had noticed last night even in the low light because you had been licking up his neck and watching his open mouth, savoring the way his whine travelled by vibration through your insistent lips from his throat.
“I don’t want to make out with you in front of all these children,” you clarified, letting out a slow, concealed breath. “But if you keep looking at me like that, I’m going to make a bad decision.”
People only get into relationships for shitty sex.
Right?
I want to be around him.
“Um… I think Jimin wanted to get an air fryer and who knows what else… I’m supposed to carry the big stuff,” Jungkook grumbled, sounding like he wanted to abandon his current adventure for a different kind of adventure. Still, he begrudgingly remained a good friend. “But tomorrow…?”
You weren’t sure if he was aware that he was getting closer to you, practically thigh-to-thigh and shoulder-to-shoulder, but then you put your hand on his coat sleeve. He froze up, holding his breath. He smelled good. Fresh and clean, like laundry from the dryer. He was close enough for you to clearly discern his scent.
Close enough for you to remember.
“I need to get my tires rotated,” you finally remembered. “I’ll call you.”
His cheeks flushed pink. “C-Call me?”
“Yeah, give me your number.”
-
She asked for it like it was easy.
Who cares? Jungkook determined, after all, that he was easy. Or at least his hands were hurriedly fumbling with his phone as he blurted out the numbers as calmly as he could, which was probably not that calm, but who cared? Not him and definitely not his dick.
“Thanks. Don’t forget to answer or I’ll feel dumb.”
“Wait, give me your number.”
She paused, glancing at him. Shivers all over when their eyes connected, and he was sure he saw a guarded flicker in those eyes, but then it was let go, her lashes lowering, casting away the unknown reservation that he hoped she could tell him one day. And yet she stayed silent, turning her phone over in her hand.
“I want it,” he breathed.
Her eyes shifted back up. Ghost of a smirk on those lips.
Like she was trying to hold back.
“I’m going to give it to you,” she whispered to him, and he had to lean in, no, wanted to lean in and the scent of her perfume caught him, sweet and smokey, all those memories flashing back, in the dark with fistfuls of his sheets and breathing in, his pillows, his blanket, his clothes, heavenly and arousing. “Just saying I come with a warning label.”
“What kind of warning?” Jungkook found himself asking even though he was desperate to indulge in this risky business.
“I’ll never let your last that long,” she purred with a smug smile. “Don’t give up, okay?”
Jungkook felt his cheeks burn as he typed down the number and kept his retort to himself because Jimin suddenly appeared and the conversation was abruptly over. He jerked his head away quickly as she mouthed a tiny aaaa under her breath, teasing him, and this was a bad decision but he answered the call anyway when it came.
-
What are you doing? You don’t do relationships. People don’t like the way you do things. They’re complicated and full of secrets. They can’t be honest. You’re too honest. It doesn’t work.
Your intrusive thoughts had worked the graveyard shift and were now doing overtime.
They don’t like you.
You weren’t that surprised at these thoughts. You also did the absolute most when fucking and probably not enough outside of fucking. Some would call this karma. You would call it a nuisance. Shut the fuck up, brain. You already knew all this. You knew and you muted all that sound, all that excess noise that warned of tomorrow being ruined, chose to shut it all out until there was nothing but the melody of Jeon Jungkook’s bated breath.
You could listen to your head and let those thoughts fuck everything up.
Or you could place your fingertips on Jungkook’s lower lip and feel his gasp travel through your nerves, feel the way your blood shimmered in your veins and raced faster. Caress that pink curve to stop at his lip rings, tangible, hard and soft juxtaposed. Breathe out, your eye line lifting, up, finding those large dark brown orbs surrounded by wispy black tendrils.
Jungkook wanted you.
That was pretty obvious, especially from his hands trying to slide up your skirt.
He was just waiting for you to start it off.
You could listen to your head or choose to feel and listen to your instincts, dangerous as it was.
I’m in so much trouble, fuck.
You knew it, and yet you leaned in and kissed him anyway. Something about him, the way his eyes instantly closed when you came close, the way he trusted your eyes wouldn’t stay open, the way his lips gave in to your insistence, no, yearned for it, his fingernails sinking into your hips and yanking you close, onto his lap and into his heat, and then it was darkness and tongue and breathing into his mouth, hot and unnerving and addictive.
You hadn’t even noticed you had closed your eyes until you felt your hands sliding into his hair. Barely even perceived how you held your breath when your chest pressed against his, gasping, too many clothes in between and all the anticipation, dancing your nails over his scalp and sucking on his tongue, his melodious moan melding with your heartbeat roaring in your ears.
What is this?
You rolled your hips into his lap and Jungkook groaned, breaking the kiss and tipping his head back, his hardness twitching between your legs, insistently pressing up through his sweatpants as his neck became exposed. And there was nothing you wanted to do but press your lips to that mole on his neck, tasting that tan skin and inhaling his scent, wanting to be covered in it, drenched in it, dancing kisses up his jaw and catching his ear with your teeth, tugging on his hair and rocking your hips back and forth, turning hot friction into hot, damp friction.
“I c-can’t…”
His moan rang in your ears, his fingers pushing up the sides of your panties and driving them into the crevice of your ass, creating a damn thong with too much fabric.
“Can’t t-take it anymore…”
Pulled hard and you gasped, feeling the slinky fabric slip in between your folds, soaked and soaking, strong hips knocking into that dug-in fabric and practically bouncing your pulsing pussy on his rock-hard erection.
You curled your arm around his head and tipped his face to yours, seeing his glassy eyes and open mouth, his shaking breath feathering against your chin, and if Jeon Jungkook was a liar, then he was a damn good one, one of those liars so deep in the lie that it started becoming truth.
He whispered your name in the shared air, between his and your trembling lips.
He’s too desperate to be a liar.
You closed the distance between lips and tangled your tongues in the tango, lifting your hips at the same time, smiling at his whine before silencing it by pulling his hand between your legs, pushing the thin fabric aside, and then the collective sigh. Yours, shivering satisfaction. His, driven desire, fingers exploring and sending shivers through your legs. Wet and slippery and soft. Pressing his face into your neck and then gasping when his soft lips pressed to your throat, light kisses and wanton need, his other hand sliding up your sweater, pushing it up.
I want you.
He slid two fingers into you and moaned into your skin, slow, pressing his touch into your clenching walls, his eyes closed under you. In, out, building pleasure, your hips following, riding his hand, deeper, intense, hard, his tongue licking your collarbone and your lashes fluttered, suddenly overcome by shivers.
“I w-want you…”
He gasped against your throat, almost a whimper, those pleading eyes half-opening. Pulling out slightly and rubbing slow circles that made your hips flinch, his fingertips brushing against your slick clit, and those brown eyes darkened, tipping his head back to watch your face. His fingers on your waist tightening, holding you in place, shifting his fingertips, and you bit back a hiss, locking your knees, staring back into his starstruck eyes that showed you everything he was as he stroked your clit, igniting all your nerves and scorching your skin in passionate flames.
You saw what Jungkook was saying.
He wanted you so bad, not just a little, not just for a couple orgasms, not just for every night but also every day, even every afternoon and every twilight and every dead of night. Every kiss, every touch, every look into the eyes telling you this meant more to him than casual and for some reason it didn’t feel like a burden.
Casual sex could only stay casual if both people got the memo.
Suddenly, you realized neither you nor him were getting the damn memo.
You leaned forward and breathed in his exhale, squeezing his hips with your thighs, harder, yes, so good, fast and harsh and closer, closer, pulsing sensitivity escalating, your fingers tangled into his long black hair, entangled moans slipping out, fuck, yes, I’m close, Jungkook, fuck, and he was good but this was more than skill, more than half-lidded eyes and your hand falling, tracing his jaw, biting back your orgasm until…
Until.
“I could stare at you forever,” you breathed.
Closed your eyes and moaned into his mouth, the high crashing down, leaking all over his fingers and causing his touch to slip, dripping down, everywhere, all over the front of his pants and down your legs, and there was no time to care, dragging Jungkook into kiss after kiss, driven by snaking pleasure coursing through your veins. His wet fingers grasped your thigh, kneading the softness, his whines trapped by kisses, begging for your legs against his naked chest.
How could you refuse him?
You just couldn’t.
-
I’m so fucked.
Truly, madly, deeply fucked.
Past in trouble and actually in danger, danger, you’re seconds away from cumming, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth so he felt something else, anything, please, clutching fistfuls of his sheets and wondering why the fuck the condom wasn’t reducing any sensation because, holy fuck, his cock was trapped in a hot, slippery, tight sleeve that pulsed around his twitching, hard length every time he descended. He couldn’t think, could barely breathe, could do nothing but follow that carnal instinct to thrust over and over, deep as possible, the angle so good he closed his eyes so they didn’t roll back into his head even though he was hopelessly losing his mind at the sensations of her, so soft, so intense, so good his legs were shaking with tension, the rhythmic smacking obscenely loud, rattling bedframe echoing throughout his bedroom.
“H-Harder,” she gasped breathlessly.
Harder?!
Was she trying to kill him?
She lifted her hips and Jungkook knew he was fucked.
He threw all of his energy into his hips and sunk his teeth into his lower lip, his lip rings hitting his teeth. Metal hitting bone. Screaming in his head and tightening his vocal chords, thankful to see her eyes closing, her head tipping back, low satisfied moan of his name travelling to in his ears and then all that he was keeping together shattered and slammed into him, heat rushing and mind-numbing, euphoric high punching all the air out of his lungs, visceral tension snapping at his hips and now he was pumping the condom full, o-o-oh, fuuuuck, her walls shivering and amplifying the good feeling of sexual intoxication, his vision a blur, only now realizing all the sweat sliding down his back and forehead, his damp hair swinging down over his eyes, and maybe lasting a only a couple minutes but it was a damn good couple of minutes if Jungkook was allowed to say so himself.
He was panting, hardly able to catch his breath.
It wasn’t enough.
Fuck, he was so horny and he was barely recovering from his first orgasm. Didn’t know what came over him. A wave of insanity? Inconsolable craving? Willful sacrifice of his soul to the sex goddess in his bed right now? Dramatic, sure. Casual, no, pushing his palms against the bed, shuddering as he pulled out of that tight warmth, almost regretting it, but then he looked down. At the shiny slickness, his white cum swollen at the end of the condom. He gripped the opening and pulled down, peeling it off with a whine, and Jungkook was pretty sure he was overwhelmingly crazy or overwhelmingly horny or both, because why else would he scoot his knees up and start jacking his spent dick like a madman, whimpering at the sensitivity and the slippery friction and the scene before him – her legs lowering from his shoulders, those curious eyes glinting under him, her soft, bouncy breasts rising and falling rapidly in her heavy breathing, fuck, so sexy, so fucking sexy, faster, tighter, staring at those hard nipples he wanted in his mouth right now, so fucking bad.
He let his eyes flicker up.
Gasping, baring his depravity.
She smirked, her tongue tracing the edge of her upper lip.
“Cum on me, Jungkook.”
Words so simple that they could be said by anyone, but this was different, this was too much intensity, too much irresistible pleasure, too much too sure about this feeling, this moment, this connection, and then her fingertips slid up his hard, tense, trembling thigh, sinking her fingernails in and dragging down, those stings of pain sending him over the edge.
“A-Ah, fuck!”
His eyes rolled back and his hips pitched forward, flinching powerfully and shooting cum over her stomach, up her cleavage, sudden streak of white glistening against her skin, jolts of aching bliss penetrating his quivering muscles. Shared gasp, everything smelling like sex, his bedsheets, his clothes, his skin, mixing with her perfume. Sweet like candy and heavy like lust.
Jungkook wanted to douse himself in it.
Her cum and her perfume.
He pressed the dark, purple-red, swollen head of his twitching cock to her cum-covered stomach and moaned, dragging it across and slipping further and further into blinding oversensitivity, on the edge of too much but he liked it, fuck, he liked it more and more as he saw her sly smirk and foxy eyes sparkle, savoring his reactions. It made him want to give in to this side of him more.
Her hand lifted, fingers curling around his chin, stroking his lower lip with her thumb.
“You’re so sexy, Jungkook. I love the way you look at me.”
Something about the way she said it, making him feel that she really meant it.
No, know that she really meant what she said.
His heart fluttered. Took flight.
No.
Soared.
They really were such simple words, nothing complicated at all, and that was how Jungkook knew.
He was sure.
--
masterpost
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For your random fun one shot
There's a fruit out there called Synsepalum dulcificum(aka miracle berry) that messes with the taste receptors(sour things taste sweet etc). Ectoplasm has a similar effect(for the purpose of the prompt that is, idk if it actually does).
So danny (either as Danny or as phantom)does shots of ectoplasm and tries a bunch of other heroes' favorite foods(starfire's cooking, red robin's and or oracle's caffeine abomination, random leftovers in the fridge, etc) and live streams it for charity while answering fan sent questions.
But then one of the flashes knocks over his shot glass while running by and all the food becomes animated and there's an epic food fight in whichever cafeteria he's in
enjoy a taste of chaos >:))))
Danny’s taste was a little fucked, he would be the first to tell you. There was this thing with ectoplasm that made his taste receptors just a bit different anytime he drank some. And because of this, his favorite thing was grossing out his Titans team mates any chance he could. The team had just as much fun as he did and it was technically Impulse’s idea to do this new tik tok series to introduce himself to the world as the newest member of the Titans.
So, here he was, sitting at the break room table in the tower with vials of ectoplasm and the most fucked up foods his team could think of sitting before him.
There was a cake baked by Miss Martian that Superboy had winced at. A veggie lasagna made by Beast Boy that Nightwing eyed warily. A strange coffee and energy drink combination courtesy of Red Robin. Some kind of casserole that Stafire had excitedly made, and a random assortment of the weirdest snacks that Impulse could find. The entire team was now watching in horror as Danny took a shot of ectoplasm and looked over the terrifying arrangement of food in front of him.
“This feels like a fucked up mukbang,” Danny said with an amused smile.
Red Robin snickered from behind his phone. “What are you going to try first, Phantom? Everyone in the live are making bets on what you’re going to eat first.”
“Are we sure this isn’t going to kill him?” Superboy asked worriedly.
“I’m already dead,” Danny said with a shrug. His teammates all gave him that same look of horror they did any time Danny reminded them all of his mortality. He supposed it was easy for them to forget that Danny was a ghost when the only other ghost they really knew about was Deadman and they were two completely different types of ghosts.
Not only that, but Danny still hadn’t mentioned to any of his teammates that he was only half dead. He had yet to reveal his secret identity to any of them. He had only been a member of the team for about a month and none of them had shared their identities with him so it was only fair that he didn’t share that part of himself with them yet either.
“Oh right,” Nightwing said faintly, that look of horror still on his face.
Danny just gave them a sharp, fanged smile and grabbed the first thing on his tray. A small rock of kryptonite. He supposed it made sense to eat that first considering Superboy was looking sicker and sicker the longer they sat there.
“Are you sure it’s fine for you to ingest kryptonite?” Wondergirl asked, looking a little uneasy.
“Of course, my body breaks it down just like it does human food. It’s all just turned into ectoplasm and energy,” Danny said before popping the rock in his mouth and crunching on it like it was just a piece of bright green rock candy.
He crinkled his nose at the taste, it was almost like eating pure sugar, it kinda made his teeth hurt. The same way it did when he was a kid and got his first cavity.
“Well?” Impulse asked, practically vibrating with excitement. “Is it everything I imagine kryptonite tastes like?”
Danny snorted. “It tastes like I’m eating pure sugar,” he said before drinking another vial of ectoplasm.
“That’s so crash!” Impulse shouted, slinging his hands out in excitement as he did. The following events were like slow motion.
Impulse’s hand knocked straight into the tray of ectoplasm vials that seemed to scatter across the table, hitting each fucked up and questionable piece of food or drink on the small table.
From there chaos just simply erupted. Danny braced himself as the pieces of food started to slowly but surely float off of the table, the coffee-energy drink began to take form and create a small fizzy, coffee scented blob ghost that careened straight towards Impulse’s face.
The veggie lasagna quickly grew pinsharp fangs that it gnashed and chomped at Beast Boy, loud screeches coming from its body.
“Oh no,” Danny said, his face pale beyond belief.
“Ph-phantom?” Nightwing stammered, his eyes wide with horror as the casserole that Starfire made started to slowly but surely inch its way towards the eldest hero.
“Red Robin, end the livestream,” Danny hissed as an ectoblast started to form in his hand, his other hand inched towards the thermos that he kept at his hip.
“But-” Red Robin let out a screech as Impulse tackled him just before a random giant pretzel launched itself at the vigilante.
“End the livestream!” Superboy screeched as he shot lasers at the hurtling ball of cabbage that had launched itself at the hero like a cannonball.
“I’m not ending the livestream! We just got so many more viewers joining!” Red Robin shouted back as he started fighting back the chips that were now being flung his way.
“Brace yourselves!” Wondergirl yelled as jello slung itself around the room. Danny just let out a groan as he started shooting ectoblasts, doing his best to subdue the ecto infused food.
He was never letting his team convince him into bringing out the ectoplasm again. This was the worst idea they had ever had.
#dpxdc#danny phantom#dp x dc#dc x dp#dis writes#dp x dc crossover#dis dreams#batman#danny fenton#dc x dp crossover
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how they fall in love - tokrev boys
aka the april 14th "i made it through valentine's day AND white day without any romantic attention" special. happy singles day to all who celebrate.
hcs for a selections of my personal tokyo revengers blorbos, including: Mikey, Draken, Baji, Chifuyu, Kazutora, Hakkai, Taiju, Koko, and Inupi.
Mikey falls in love with uncertainty. He’s used to feeling so much all the time at once that he isn’t sure he could pinpoint love in the middle of all of it. But until he knew you, it didn’t matter. As you get closer to him, he becomes more acutely aware that he definitely has positive, pleasant feelings toward you. He may even get himself in trouble by picking fights with others who steal your attention from him. It probably takes Draken, Takemichi, or Emma to be like, “So, about this crush you have….” and he’d be like, “...the what.” Be patient with him, he’ll come around, and when he realizes both his own and your feelings, he’ll be the sweetest boyfriend. Please do not accept anything he cooks for you though. No chance in hell that he can cook.
Draken falls slowly. He starts by noticing how cute you are when you do mundane tasks, or the little things that make your eyes sparkle, and he finds himself wanting to know more. He’s very observant when it comes to details, and might surprise you here and there by bringing you your favorite drink or a treat of some sort, but his love language is definitely quality time. Whatever your hobbies are, he’ll definitely start feeling a stronger attachment to you if you do that thing in his vicinity while he’s working on fixing up a bike or something. It’ll take him some time to come to the conclusion that it’s love, but in the meantime he’ll settle for the warm swell in his chest that he feels when you’re around.
Baji falls quietly, behind the scenes. If he doesn’t know you like him back, he’ll operate under the assumption that you don’t and just be content with just being by your side and will express his feelings via little gestures that show he cares and listens to you. This can range anywhere from noticing you’re warm and turning on the AC, or torching a vending machine that ate your change. Depends on his mood. Another way he’ll show his affection is by sharing things with you; food, beverages, etc., yes, but also hair ties. And he won’t even ask for them back. If you keep the hair tie he gave you and wear it on your wrist? He’s as good as gone. Please confess to him soon, this boy is down worse than he lets on.
Chifuyu falls in love like an idiot. He doesn’t fall for just anyone, but when he does, he’s immediately head over heels. In a borderline insufferable way, too. We’ve seen how clingy he was with Baji. He is gonna make himself your personal guard dog, whether you want it or not. He’s gonna go out of his way to bring you tokens of his adoration like a courting magpie. I’m so serious, this is the boy who will bring you a really fucking shiny rock he saw that made him think of you. If you try to talk to him normally, though, you’d better be prepared for him to get all flustered and formal about it. But once you get him out of his own head about it, he’s loyal and dedicated and affectionate.
Kazutora falls in love like he isn’t sure what love really is. Sweet boy has been through so much, especially growing up in a family situation like his. He doesn’t know what love looks like, and he worries that if he were to be in love, he wouldn’t do it right. He’s one you’ll really have to take initiative with imo. But if you show him your love, he’ll slowly but surely follow suit. Show him that love can be gentle and playful and fun. Show him that it can be tender or sweet or passionate. Show him the love he’s never gotten, and he’ll learn to show you his love in return.
Hakkai falls hard and fast, but you wouldn’t know it. He knows he likes you the moment he sees you, but if you so much as make eye contact with him, he freezes and is immediately beet red. It will take at least three people shoving him directly at you and coaching him through what to say to actually ask you out.
Taiju falls in love stubbornly. When love isn’t what he thought it would feel like, when it ends up making him feel all mushy in his core, he rebukes it. He denies it. He tries anything in his power to keep this weakness from entering his body. He’s never known what it is to be soft and doesn’t understand why you make him feel this way. He might be cute and a little tsuntsun about it, but you’ve already cracked his shell and he can’t deny it forever.
Koko falls hesitantly. He’s nervous when it comes to vulnerability, but devoted nonetheless. Think toned down and bottled up version of Chifuyu. On the surface, he seems like he has mad game, but we all know he’s a weenie at his core, and he knows it too. He’ll seem calm and collected around you, he may even be a little flirty, but just know he’s dying inside. I suggest putting him out of his misery and confessing first, but c’mon, we all know it’d be so much cuter if he accidentally blurted it out and then was all surprised when you tell him you feel the same way. But he’s most definitely gonna keep it bottled up until he bursts.
Inupi falls in love quietly, similarly to Baji. He trusts quickly, and when he knows, he knows. He’s not going out of his way to make some big, dramatic confession, though. But he will absolutely be glued to your side. Just existing near you. He won’t be the chattiest person, but you’ll find that he’ll always have something meaningful to say. You’ll probably get more out of him if you can get him alone, honestly. Let him take you for a ride on his bike to someplace you can just enjoy each other’s company and he’ll bare his soul to you.
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokrev x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#mikey sano#manjiro sano#mikey sano x reader#manjiro sano x reader#draken x reader#ryuguji ken x reader#ryuuguji ken#baji keisuke x reader#matsuno chifuyu x reader#hanemiya kazutora#hanemiya kazutora x reader#matsuno chifuyu#baji keisuke#hakkai shiba#shiba hakkai x reader#taiju x reader#taiju shiba x reader#taiju shiba#kokonoi hajime#kokonoi x reader#kokonoi hajime x reader#koko x reader#inui seishu#inui seishu x reader#inupi x reader#inupi
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Ok you know what? Fuck it. Throws out my Captain OC
Meet Ventresca Cookie, AKA Captain Bigeye!!
(Ref drawn by my bestie @cornkernelcorp!)
Captain Bigeye here is a renown sailor from the lower city of the Republic who takes pride in his job: Sea monster hunting! This man is ABSOLUTELY fearless, willing to sail through hurricanes to get his catch! NOBODY knows how he hasn't been killed yet. He's not part of the navy, nor does he have his own crew (NOBODY is willing to get hired because they don't want to die LMAOO)
He's also very good rivals with Captain Caviar! (they're the type to have a full-on brawl in a bar one night, but laugh and hug each other the next) Unlike Caviar, Ventresca is buddy-buddy with pretty much anyone, even pirates! Just as long as you don't threaten him or his pals!
I wanted to make an OC off of one of my favorite foods: Ventresca tuna: Specifically the cans from Ecuador, which are from Bigeye tuna! (That's where his nickname comes from!)
#cookie run#cookie run kingdom#crk#crk oc#cookie run oc#cookie run fanart#ventresca cookie#captain bigeye cookie#captain caviar cookie#captain caviar#yes those are gill-shaped trans scars#WE NEED MORE CAPTAIN OCS
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favorite ✧ boo seungkwan
title: favorite
pairing: boo seungkwan x afab reader
rating: explicit (18+)
word count: 3.6k
genres: pwp, smut, boyfriend!kwan
summary: "You've seen him do it a lot, but lately it makes you feel things. Like, deep down in the pit of your stomach things." aka: You want Seungkwan to be mean to you.
warnings under the cut.
general warnings: afab reader, reader wears a skirt and a thong
18+ warnings: hard dom bossy kwan, dirty talk, degradation, very slight humiliation, panties stuffed into mouth lol, name-calling, making out, oral (m. receiving, face fucking), breast/nipple play, fingering, orgasm denial, unprotected sex (missionary and doggy style), creampie
✎ mean and bossy dom kwan.... who else cheered? /claps/. this is the dirtiest thing i've written so sorry if it's a mess. i do it for my fellow boosadans though, please enjoy!
✎ beta'd and researched *coughs* by @fernspotsvt. :o) 💗 thank you bb
“He must be in a mood today,” Vernon says with a laugh from his spot beside you. The two of you are sitting and watching a soccer game between Chan, Jihoon, Mingyu, and Seungkwan. You already know that he's referring to your boyfriend, who you've been watching the whole time.
“Mmhm,” you hum affirmatively as Seungkwan makes eye contact with you from afar and winks, running his hand through his hair.
“Gross,” Vernon giggles and you hit him lightly. You have to admit that he's right — Seungkwan has been a bit aggressive tonight, mostly towards his friends. Your attention is taken again when you see him run up to Chan, say something with a serious expression and then point to a different spot on the field. The younger man nods and jogs over to the spot. To say your mind is reeling would be an understatement. They continue playing, and you continue watching your boyfriend shout across the yard throughout the game.
Your mind starts drifting involuntarily. You think about how Seungkwan is nothing but nice to you, but when you're around his friends he bickers with them and bosses them around to no end.
Emphasis on “bosses them around”.
You've seen him do it a lot, but lately it makes you feel things. Like, deep down in the pit of your stomach things.
Your focus is broken by Seungkwan running directly towards you with a huge grin on his face.
“You okay, baby?” he asks in a cute voice. You nod and smile back as he pecks you on the lips, then runs back to the group on the field.
The same thing happens later that night when all of you are eating. The table is arguing over something but Seungkwan is too focused on putting food on your plate.
“You need to eat,” he says a bit like he's scolding you. ”I haven't seen you eat anything the whole night.”
You can feel your face get warm as he clicks his tongue at you. Getting turned on while you’re trying to eat is definitely not your best moment. You shovel your face with the food he gave you as he watches you intently, grabbing your hand and squeezing it.
“Good job,” he says a bit quietly so that only you can hear it. You swallow thickly and try to change the direction of the conversation.
“Um, watching you play soccer was fun,” you say with a smile and he grins back at you.
“Really? You looked kinda bored, so I just assumed you weren't into it,” he pouts and it makes you laugh.
“I wasn't bored! Just… thinking,” you reply. When you see his curious expression you already know that you dug yourself a hole you can't get out of.
“About?”
You sigh in defeat. “I think I like seeing you boss people around,” you say in one breath and try not to cringe at your own words. His eyebrows shoot up at that.
Your conversation is quickly interrupted by Soonyoung.
“We're going back outside!” he says as he grabs the soccer ball. Seungkwan quickly stands up and takes your hand in his.
“We're actually about to go home, we have an early morning tomorrow,” he says with a glance over to your direction. He smirks at the sudden surprised expression on your face.
You quickly say your goodbyes to everyone and end up back in your car, Seungkwan practically dragging you along the whole way. When he sits down in the driver's seat, you open your mouth to say something but he quickly cuts you off.
“I'm gonna drive, and you're going to explain what you were thinking about earlier,” he says bluntly as he starts the car.
“Okay…” you reply warily. He doesn't seem angry, but his tone is very serious. “Um, I just meant that… I'm not used to seeing you act assertive but… it was kind of attractive.” You twiddle your fingers together as you speak.
“Oh?” he replies simply, like he's expecting you to continue.
“Yeah, and I thought about how you're always really nice and gentle with me,” you continue. “Please don't make me say any more,” you say with a pout.
His hand suddenly moves over and lands on your thigh. He rubs his hand up and down and squeezes a little. When you go to shift your legs a bit, Seungkwan clicks his tongue, eyes still looking ahead at the road.
“Don't move.”
He has the same tone as when he was barking at Chan earlier, and it makes your skin tingle. You nod silently and he smiles. His hand squeezes your thigh a bit harder, and then moves between your legs and into the skirt that you're wearing.
“Mmm,” he hums as his fingers ghost over your thin panties. “You wore a thong tonight even though you knew we were just seeing my friends?”
You choke out a quiet sound and try to squeeze your legs together. Seungkwan immediately pulls his hand from your skirt, placing it on your thigh and digging his fingers into your skin.
“Didn't I tell you to stay still?” he snaps at you and you groan quietly. “Now you'll sit there untouched until we get home.”
He really does have a mean streak, you think to yourself. For the rest of the short ride home, you make yourself sit still and instead let your mind race thinking about all the things your loving boyfriend might do to you. You can feel your already wet panties pressing against your skin.
Once you make it to your apartment, Seungkwan leads you inside without saying a word. He only speaks after taking you into the bedroom and shutting the door.
“Kneel on the floor,” he tells you as he takes off his jacket. You hesitate for a moment, but then ease yourself down onto the carpeted floor. He suddenly squats down in front of you to face you eye-level.
“Do you want me to be mean to you?” he says in that gentle voice that you're so used to. You swallow and force yourself to speak, knowing that he wants a concrete answer.
“Yes… I want to try it. I want you to boss me around and be aggressive,” you reply as you feel your face heating up by the second. He makes a little sound of affirmation and stands back up.
“Use our safe word if you need to, okay?” he concludes and you nod in reply. You're still extremely turned on, so you're secretly hoping that he'll hurry up and do something. With where he's standing, you're face-level with his pelvis and trying to not drool.
“Take my cock out of my pants, baby,” Seungkwan almost whispers, still holding that domineering tone from earlier. Your hands immediately move from your lap to unbutton and unzip his jeans, revealing his half hard erection. You want to touch it immediately, but you move your hands back down and look up to your boyfriend for more instructions. He lets out a little chuckle at your reaction.
“Put your hands on my thighs and open your mouth.”
You do exactly that, trying to ignore how dumb you feel sitting there with your jaw slack and mouth hanging open. The feeling makes you squeeze your thighs together for some relief as you stare up at Seungkwan. He takes his time teasing you, though.
He starts stroking himself slowly, and you watch a little bit of precum ooze out. He then puts one hand on the back of your head, taking his cock in the other to spread his precum on your lips. You can feel his eyes on you the entire time as you try to stay quiet. After he seems satisfied, he eases his hard cock into your open mouth. You close your lips around it and let your eyes flutter shut in relief.
“You take my directions so well, my good girl,” Seungkwan says in a breathy voice as he slowly moves his length in and out of your mouth. You moan a little at his words and shift your legs together even more. He laughs condescendingly and thrusts a little bit harder into your mouth.
“Stop squeezing your legs together and be patient,” he says and tightens his grip on your hair. “Or I’ll stop and leave you here alone with just your needy little pussy.”
You immediately whimper loudly and relax your legs, focusing instead on the man in front of you fucking your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat and he moans loudly, sending a bolt of arousal down your spine. He keeps going even faster and you can feel your eyes begin to tear up.
“Already crying on my cock?” Seungkwan says with a teasing voice. “I thought you wanted this. Didn’t you want me to be mean to you?” You try your best to nod and mumble out an affirmative answer.
“Maybe I would be nicer,” he continues with a hard thrust, “if you hadn’t worn a cute little skirt and a thong to go see my friends.”
He finally pulls your mouth off of his cock and lets you take a deep breath, drool and precum all over your mouth. By now you have a few tears dripping down your face as well. You somehow still have your shaky hands placed on his thighs as you continue to take deep breaths and regain your sanity. Even though he’s supposed to be mean, Seungkwan is still nice enough to let you catch your breath before speaking.
“Strip and then get on the bed,” Seungkwan says nonchalantly as he starts taking off his own clothes. You quickly scramble to get up and strip down to your underwear. You go to take off your panties before he stops you in your tracks.
“Give me those.”
You pull them off and shakily hand them over, and he motions for you to get on the bed. Finally completely naked, you crawl onto the bed and sit up straight, watching him. It feels like a lifetime before Seungkwan finally sits next to you. He holds up the thong that you gave him so that it's right in front of your face. Your hands immediately go to cover your face in embarrassment as you groan.
“Do you see how wet this is?” he says, making no move to pull your hands down from your face. He waits until you finally do look, avoiding eye contact at all costs.
“Yes,” you reply quietly and he smiles devilishly.
“Open your mouth,” he coos and you do so without thinking. He hums a little. “You're already so good at listening to me, sweetie.”
He slowly pushes your thong into your mouth, making sure to put the soaking wet part first so that you can taste yourself. He leaves most of the fabric hanging out of your mouth before pushing your jaw up to close your lips. You can't help but let out a whining sound when Seungkwan looks down at you with a lustful expression on his face.
“Don't worry,” he says with a teasing tone. “I'll only leave those in your mouth while I fuck you with my fingers.”
You nod dumbly in reply and open your legs a little, which makes him laugh. One of his hands reaches down between your legs.
“Can you imagine what my friends would think if they found out that you like to be bossed around?” he whispers as he runs a single finger through your wetness. “Or how wet you get when I'm mean to you?”
Your stomach flips at his words and you hate how much the thought turns you on.
“Play with your tits while I finger you,” he orders and watches your face as he suddenly eases two fingers inside of you. Letting out a loud moan, your brain goes blank with pleasure before you can register what he said.
“Oh? Are you too dumb to do that?”
Your pussy clenches tightly around his fingers and you quickly move both of your hands to your breasts, letting out a little whimper of embarrassment. He sets a moderate pace with his fingers as you start rubbing your own nipples, the pleasure already making your head spin.
“You're all fucked out and you haven't even had my cock yet,” Seungkwan says with a laugh. The fact that he’s right again annoys you to no end. “It might be fun to just do this all night and never fuck you.”
You quickly moan out loud and shake your head. He smiles and plants a kiss on your head.
“It's okay, baby. I may be mean but I'm still gonna fuck you tonight,” he remarks as he pulls his fingers out of you. You whine at the suddenly empty feeling as he scoots himself to sit next to you and gently pulls your thong out of your mouth. Seungkwan pulls you into a deep kiss and wipes the drool off your mouth.
“Are you okay?” he says quietly as he stares into your eyes, checking your expression. Your heart skips a beat and you could almost cry at how sweet he is.
“I am, I promise,” you reply, voice a little raspy. “I'm really turned on…”
He licks his lips at your words and nods. Instead of immediately going to put his cock inside of you, he takes your face in his hand and squeezes a little.
“Say ah,” he says and you do as you're told. He then puts his tongue deeply in your mouth as far as possible as he kisses you. You moan desperately, wrapping your hands around his neck to keep him there. You're so used to kissing Seungkwan constantly during sex that it feels weird not to. After a moment of making out, he pulls back and gently lays you back down. You spread your legs expectantly, but instead of going for it immediately, he grabs a pillow and puts it under your hips. He then takes your legs and pushes your knees up to your shoulders, practically bending you in half.
“Be a good girl and hold yourself open for me, okay?” You nod eagerly and grab your own legs.
“Fuck,” Seungkwan curses as he places his cock at your entrance and begins to slide it in. Once he's all the way in, you can't help but gasp at how deep he is inside of you. You both moan in unison as he begins thrusting, the feeling of intense pleasure making your brain go fuzzy. You feel tears start to well up in your eyes again.
You moan Seungkwan's name over and over as he fucks you, trying your best to keep a grip on your legs. You suddenly feel your own orgasm building in your core.
“I'm so — can I cum, p-please?” you say with a sob as you feel your pussy twitch uncontrollably. Your boyfriend clicks his tongue at you and shakes his head firmly.
“No, you're not cumming until I'm finished with you,” he grunts back at you and you bite your lip in restraint. You're not sure how you're going to hold back from climaxing, but you don't want to disappoint Seungkwan either.
“You should be smart enough to have self control, hm? Or maybe you only think with that slutty cunt of yours,” he says in a breathy voice that makes you clench even more.
“I won't cum, I promise,” you reply with a little sob as tears roll down your face. He chuckles and lightly pats you on your tear stained cheek. After a few more minutes of fucking deeply into you, he pulls out and takes a breath. As soon as he does, your hands fall and your legs flop down onto the bed. Before you know it, you feel a tongue slide up your sensitive pussy and you choke out a moan.
“Poor little thing, you're so swollen here,” Seungkwan says, voice dripping with a mocking tone. He moves away from between your legs, putting both hands on you to roll you over onto your stomach. You feel something stir inside you again when he manhandles you so easily.
“You don't have to worry about a thing,” he coos as he pulls your hip upwards. “Just keep these hips raised for me so I can fuck you.”
You moan and bury your face in the pillow below you as your arch your back.
“Uh-uh, not like that,” your boyfriend says as he threads a hand into your hair and pulls your head up. “Don't hide your face.”
You feel your face heat up with a mixture of shame and arousal — your eyes are still watery, and your body is tense with the desire to cum.
Finally, you feel Seungkwan's cock re-enter you with a harsh movement as his hips slap repeatedly against your ass. Your whimpers are drowned out by his loud groans and the wet sounds of him moving inside of you. You're struggling to keep your head off the pillow and he’s not making it any easier.
Suddenly, you feel Seungkwan's chest against your back as he presses his index and middle fingers to your lips. You get the hint and immediately take his fingers into your mouth, desperate for something to suck on. He moans your name loudly and keeps pressing down on your tongue until you gag a little.
“So good, shit,” he grunts into your ear. “My sweet girl, you just need me to take care of you, right?”
You feel the knot in your stomach tighten even more, your vision blurry with tears and your face messy with drool. You're not sure how you're going to keep yourself from cumming any longer.
“Were you imagining me doing this to you earlier tonight, even when you were sitting and talking to Vernon?” Seungkwan asks suddenly and the question takes you by surprise. You nod madly and mumble out a yes as much as you can with your mouth still full of his fingers.
“Mmm, I wish I could've known earlier how perverted you are,” he groans as his thrusting continues and his fingers press down on your tongue even more. “But now I know, and now I'll fuck you like this whenever you want.”
You feel his cock twitching a bit as he fucks into you, and you let out a breath of relief knowing that you'll be able to orgasm soon. He finally pulls his fingers out of your mouth and lets your head fall down onto the pillow.
“Don't cum until I do, okay?” Seungkwan whispers, voice husky in your ear as he speeds up. “Once I'm done filling your pussy up, then you can cum.”
You nod as much as you can with your head still pushed into the fabric below you. The only thing you can manage to think about right now is Seungkwan cumming inside you. He continues his grunting in your ear, getting louder by the second and making the coil in your stomach tighten even more. After a few more seconds of rutting his cock inside you, he lets out a loud moan of your name as you feel him shoot thick ropes of cum inside your walls. He grinds his hips against you until he's completely finished.
“Cum for me, baby,” he breathes into your ear, cock still deep inside of you. His hand reaches down to circle your swollen clit and after three measly strokes, you let out a loud cry; your orgasm hits you so hard that your whole body tenses and you feel a gush of wetness leave you. You let out a broken sob as you shudder and all you can hear is Seungkwan cursing while he runs his hands down your body in awe.
“So sexy,” he whispers as he watches you come down from your high. You suddenly feel so worn out that you could fall asleep immediately. Seungkwan gently pulls out of you and rolls you over.
“Sweetie, are you okay?” he asks as he lays next to you and faces you. “Was that too much?”
He looks so extremely concerned at your tired state that you want to laugh, but don't have the energy to.
“I'm okay,” you reply with a pleased smile. “That was amazing.”
He takes an obvious deep breath of relief and grins back at you.
“I'm glad. Do you wanna take a bath right now, or go to sleep?” Seungkwan asks as he strokes your hair. He's back to the same gentle and sweet guy that you've always known him as.
“Wanna sleep,” you mumble. You then suddenly feel a trickle of cum run down your leg, causing you to visibly cringe. “Maybe a bath then sleep.”
He laughs at your reaction and pulls you upwards to help you walk go the bathroom.
“I'll wash your back, baby,” he says with a wink that makes you want to smack him on the arm.
You do end up letting him wash your back, and you don’t exactly hate the way he sings to you while he does it.
#op please stop naming fics after song titles#well im uncreative so what do u want me to do about it#svt smut#seventeen smut#boo seungkwan x reader#boo seungkwan smut#seungkwan x reader#seungkwan smut#seventeen x reader
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okay i really need to get this off my mind so, imagine cat hybrid!jungwon who lives w his owner in an apartment and one day while he's sunbathing by the window, he sees you, a pretty fluffly cat hybrid brushing your tail across the building, and he's intrigued
you notice him too and give him a shy little wave and smile and jungwon thinks he's been lovestruck. everyday he'd perch by the window in hopes of seeing u more and it goes on like this for two weeks until both of your owners notice and arrange a surprise play date together.
u both instantly hit it off, but as soon as your owners left to get some food, jungwon immediately mounts you, kissing ur ears and biting ur neck. he doesn't know what came over him he just knows he couldn't hold himself back anymore, all he wants is to claim and breed you, so be a good kitty and let him make you his? ♡ (yes same anon hehe)
Ahah you might think I’m crazy but I’m writing a whole ass oneshot about this one too because it’s so good and it made me so horny when I read it. But not the type of horny like saying "I’m horny" online, the type of I’m horny in real life fr ugh 🥵
Anyway, I’m literally putting rich!Jay as Jungwon’s owner and poor student!Jake as your owner because sorry not sorry but I’ll definitely do a spin-off of this.
Spoiler for the end !!! Imagine that weeks after you show sign of pregnancy (cmon they’re indoor cat who cares if you get pregnant) and Jake knock on Jay’s door like "G’day mate, your cat got mine pregnant" and Jay just blink because his sweet boy fucked the neighbour’s cat (aka you) so hard and nice that he got you pregnant.
About this spin-off, it’s definitely gonna end in a foursome because I’m a whore, no questions asked no answers needed. You’re in heat and presenting for your sweet and caring owner, so he fucks you dumb on the balcony so Jungwon can see that your HIS pet, and then everything goes downhill when Jungwon get a whiff of your smell, so he somehow manage to get to you both and tell you what a good kitty you are because you’re lapping his dick as if it’s covered in your favorite treat. Jay come back from work and know that his cat is at Jake’s since he’s not here and just goes at his friend house, only to see the both of them slamming their cock into you, trying to fuck your heat out of you. And what a sight, he can’t help it, he gotta watch you and jerk off.
Oufff 😮💨 it’s so messy, my mind going crazy, I think it’s the word mount who gets me going on, I don’t know why but it’s so sexyyyy..
It’s out !!!-> The cat from across the garden.
#-> ♡ (my favorite anon but hush it’s a secret) <-#why are my tags so long#kinda too lazy to do an aesthetic#and I enjoy being weird or different so I just give nicknames to y’all#be ready#gneheh#enhypen hard hours#enhypen smut#jungwon hard thoughts#jungwon smut#jungwon hard hours
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Din Djarin: Bright and Shiny
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her)
Excerpt: “Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.”
“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”
You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.
“What do you like about it?”
Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut (me writing a dom man?), with softness at the end. The Crest is aliveee. Grogu isn’t here yet.
A/N: Happy Dincember everyone, aka my absolute favorite tumblr tradition. To all the authors updating prompts every day…are you Gods?
If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3
Pedro Masterlist
There was no bigger hypocrite in the galaxy than the infamous Mandalorian.
Blood-crusted beskar coated the majority of his body every time he placed his feet on solid ground—every time— in addition to the metaphorical armor that was his demeanor. Solid, unbreakable, stern, terrifying.
It was not until you had spent a few months as his “partner” at the Guild, thus living together on his quickly crumbling Razor Crest, that you were met with his true doctrine of hypocrisy.
It was as if every time he elected to remove a piece of his armor for you, he knocked down one of his walls. First was the night he removed the small shoulder and shin pieces, the same night he elected to crack his first joke. Next was the dark-browned chest, sharing with you that he was a foundling in his Covert. Then the belt, covered in more weapons and weight than you had ever seen, and he told the story of his first kill. Then the wrists, along with the story of his toughest kill. The one that haunted him as he attempted to fall asleep at night. Then his gloves, with the story of the first woman he had ever fell in love with.
“You remind me of her,” he had said to you, “except you have actually stayed.” He had said the last part quickly before immediately exiting the pit to hide in his “room” for a few hours.
You remained in your copilot seat, staring off into the stars of hyperspace, unable to think at all.
Slowly—very slowly— the Mandalorian had revealed more and more of his true self to you. The one who would sneakily hum around the Crest, make sure to turn your heated blanket on early on cold nights, and always—always—avoid spiced food like the plague.
“It upsets my stomach,” he had defended, and you scoffed in return.
After such long travel-times on jobs, you would get so used to the softness of his true personality that when he would have to put his armor back on—literally and figuratively— you almost felt like you were looking and speaking to a different person.
The heat in your lower stomach felt that way too.
It flared when he was soft, but the switch from the man you knew to the Mandalorian always reminded you both of when you first met him and what he was truly capable of.
Plus, seeing the width of his shoulders accentuated by the most expensive and impenetrable metal known to man was not bad either.
You had been sitting at the usual meeting spot with Greef, ready to discuss the dozen pucks already sitting in front of you. You were still due for a new job after the boat-load of beskar given to you for the little green baby— which definitely was not still on your conscious— and Mando was running a bit late due to the crafting of his new armor. You waited anxiously to see the results.
“I have never held this much in my own hands before,” he had said to you, and you beamed up at him as he spoke. “This will likely be enough for an entirely new set.”
You had no idea how right he was.
You sat at the booth with Greef, making pleasant enough conversation, but mostly daydreaming of what Mando was seeing, feeling, touching. The pleasure to watch his own armor be crafted by hand, you could not even imagine what that would be like.
You took a sip of your drink—one that Greef had been so gracious to buy for you—and let it burn as you set it down on the sticky wooden table. As soon as the glass touched the wood, the entire cantina silenced, and all eyes went to the entrance. Your eyes followed the crowd’s, unable to see for certain what everyone was looking at.
It only took a few seconds for you to realize that the “what” was actually a “who,” and that “who” was the kindest man you had ever known wrapped in wealth, power, and impenetrability.
It was a good thing you had set your drink down, because it would have dropped to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces, because he was the sexist thing you had ever laid your eyes on.
This was the Mandalorian.
You thought his previous armor was intimidating—small shoulder pieces, a wide chest piece, and even wider thigh pieces. He was both a distraction to you and a threat to everyone else in that armor.
But now, now he fully covered, head to toe, in shimmering silver. His waist the tiniest you had seen it, with his shoulders as wide as they had ever looked. Almost the entirety of his legs were covered now, and even his helmet gleamed and glistened in the light. He walked straighter, stood taller, and stepped slower. Like he was enjoying this.
He had never looked more lethal, and with all of the eyes on him, his own were on you.
You stared back at him as he made his way, mouth slightly parted, and legs squeezing tighter and tighter together with each step he took. The typical slight steam in your stomach at the sight of him was now boiling hot, running through the blood in your body faster than you could process. The lack of blood flow to your brain caused it to wipe itself clean and focus solely on the warrior in front of you. Your hands began to shake and your mouth parched.
You were speechless. A deadly bounty hunter stunned speechless.
He said nothing as he scooched his way into the booth, and you remained looking at him even when his body was turned towards Greef.
“I want my next job,” he said.
Greef said something, something witty, but you didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.
“I want my next job,” Mando repeated. Amban rifle in his lap, leaning slightly forward.
Holy fuck the heat in you.
He grabbed a puck and began walking out, turning back to signal you to follow. You stood slowly, thanked Greef, and exited the Cantina, eyes locked on the expanse of his back the entire walk to the Crest.
~*~
It wasn’t two seconds after Mando put the security lock on the Crest that he had you cornered with his words.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. You were both in the cock pit, ready to take off, and you were standing in front of the controls.
“No,” you said, meeting his gaze as fiercely as you could. Your hands were glued to your sides and your fists squeezed so hard they stung.
“Okay,” he said, so fucking softly it hurt you. He was still making his way closer to you, forcing you to look up.
“Okay,” you responded, and you thought that was it. He would back off.
But your fucking eyes betrayed you, darting down to the expanse of his body, and he laughed.
“Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.
“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”
You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.
“What do you like about it?”
You could barely breathe enough to respond. Your throat instantly dried, and every word of any language was lifted from you.
“I—I like—” you started, swallowing “—I like the chest.”
“The chest,” he said, bringing your hand up to the cold metal. “What about it?”
You traced your fingers down it, still forced to look up at him by his leather glove. “I like how wide it makes you. How powerful.”
He stood there in silence before asking, “what else?”
“The legs,” you whispered. “I really like the legs.”
He nearly growled. “Why Y/N? Tell me.”
Your name on his lips at this stage of the game was too much.
“It makes them look big. Strong,” you said, heart in your throat. “I like that.”
He softened his grip on your face and moved his hand to the back of your neck. “I know you do.” He then tapped twice on his helmet. “Heat signature.”
Your face fell and paled.
How long had he—
“I’ve known since the first day I met you,” he said, massaging your neck. “Just never knew how to bring it up.”
“Why now?” you whispered, voice deep from the pleasure of his fingers.
“Because this is the strongest it’s ever been for you,” he replied. “And for me. Seeing you watching me like that…”
He brought his hand back to frame your face.
“…I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than you in that moment.”
He started pulling you forward by your face.
“And now i have you, don’t I?”
Yes he did, so much of you, parts of you you didn’t even know about before him.
“Yes.”
He let go of you and sat in the pilot’s seat, spreading his legs.
“So ruin me, Y/N. Ruin this bright and shiny armor.”
You practically jumped on him.
You immediately mounted him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, and felt all around the metal. Your breaths fogged up his helmet as you did, practically moaning at the chance to finally feel the expanse of his body. He kept his hands firmly on your hips, watching your face as you panted and whined in his.
After a few moments he picked you up and sat you on his right thigh.
“Go on.”
You immediately rolled your hips, fully moaning at the feeling, and rolled them faster and faster and deeper and deeper.
Your head began tipping back as the metal ground against your clit perfectly, but Mando pulled your face forward to rest your forehead on his.
“Mando—”
“It’s Din,” he said firmly, squeezing your hips enough to bruise. “Say it.”
You rolled your hips over and over, desperation dripping off your voice. “Din.”
It was then that he released a moan, ripped your pants and underwear off of you, and took control of your hips on his thigh. He placed you down just right and tears coated your eyes, sweat poured from your pours, and with one inch of incline from his leg, you shattered.
Your forehead fell against his, panting and whining “Din” over and over again as he kept you moving on him through your orgasm. You felt yourself drip down onto the floor and run down his legs, and your eyes rolled at the thought.
You held onto the fabric around his neck for dear life, gathering as much breath as you could, and Din just let you.
It was then that he started to feel you up.
He moved from your hips to your bare thighs, back up to your clothed breasts, then to your face to brush back your hair, and finally back down to your thighs. He gathered your drip from his thigh onto his leather glove. He brought it underneath his helmet, and your mouth dropped open.
He sucked it slowly, not making any noise except a slight groan. “I knew I was right.”
You swallowed, still panting in both exhaustion and shock. “Right?”
“I knew every part of you was perfect.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, and you smiled nice and wide. You had a feeling he was smiling too.
It was this sense of elation and euphoria that gave you the freedom not to think before sliding your hand over his hardened bulge and raising your eyebrows in question.
He chuckled, which somehow melted you more than anything he had done previously.
“Not right now,” he said sweetly, and pulled you into his chest. You cozied up into him before he slowly lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t think I’d last two seconds.”
You smiled, humming. “Okay Din.”
His body tensed a bit when you said that, and you wondered if you crossed some sort of boundary, but he continued on his way to his bed. He set you in It, wrapping you in his sheets, and grabbing a towel to clean you off. You got a good show of yourself stained and running all over his thigh and nearly jumped on him again.
“Like I said,” he countered, likely picking up on the change in your temperature, “I wouldn’t last two seconds.”
You nodded with a smile and he took the towel to the laundry room before returning to you, sitting on the side of the bed.
“Get some rest,” he said. “We have a job to do in the morning.”
He stood, making his way back to the cockpit, but you called out to him.
“Mando, wait,” you said, and he froze before slowly turning back around. “Are we okay? Was that…okay?”
He paused, leaning himself into the doorway, sighing as always, and said, “Y/N, I wouldn’t trade the world for the last hour I’ve had with you.”
You enjoyed this forward, talkative Din much more than you anticipated to.
“And call me Din,” he said. “Please.”
He then left you, starting up the Crest to make its way to hyperspace, and you drifted slowly into sleep, still on a high. You finally fell asleep to the feeling of a warm body wrapping itself around you, and a deep voice whispering in your ear, “We’re okay, Y/N. We’re okay.”
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@leahkenobi @cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679
#din djarin fanfiction#din djarin angst#din djarin imagine#dincember#din djarin x you#din djarin smut#din djarin fluff#din djarin x reader#din djarin#din x reader#dinluke#the mandalorian smut#the mandalorian x you#the mandalorian fanfiction#the mandalorian x reader#the mandalorian#the mandolorian fanart#star wars fanfiction#star wars#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal#the last of us#joel miller
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ok I am in fact using this as an excuse to make a long post about this thank you thank you asjksdjfaljdf
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Interpreting Yuri as asexual is my very very favorite type of headcanon, which is one that 1. is compellingly coded in the source material (even if that wasn't the creator's intent), 2. is thematically relevant to what the piece of media is Trying To Do as a whole, and 3. just means a lot to me, personally, because I said so.
Coded in the source material
Yuri’s short program is “eros”, aka desire (you can interpret what “eros” means in various ways, but YOI itself explicitly refers to sexual love, at least in the English translations). Yuri struggles with this. Hard. He can’t come up with an answer when asked what eros means to him. His big revelatory moment about desire is that it’s how he feels about wanting to eat his favorite food (omg… boy). Even as the season goes on and the way he views the Eros program changes, the program doesn’t ever really embody the idea of eros as sexuality or romance (which was how the other characters expect him to interpret it) but rather as a desire to keep Victor in his life.
Like look. I’m obviously not going to say that the creator intended any kind of ace subtext to be there. I kind of doubt it was her intent. But goddamn is the subtext there.
2. Thematic relevance
The central theme throughout YOI is “love”, and especially loving people in a way that inspires you both to be your best selves: Yuri learning that the people in his life truly love and support him; Victor finding someone who makes him feel joy about skating again.
Like, Yuri’s whole skating theme for the Grand Prix is literally about him exploring what love looks like to him, even when it takes a form that other people don’t totally understand. Viewing all this through a lens of him being ace is really compelling. It adds depth to the idea of learning how to express the way you feel love even when it looks different than what other people expect. I think it’s a really delicious layer that adds even more nuance to what the show is getting at.
Besides, it’s an interesting way of viewing the criticism of the show that occurred for it not being 100% explicit about them being a couple (aka people getting mad because the kiss in ep 7 is blocked by Victor’s arm lmaooo). Like, ok, did you see the ending scene of ep 9? Did you see ep 10??? They definitely, definitely love each other, in whatever way that means for them. Their relationship takes a form that’s pretty different than the other way people in the show are going about romantic relationships, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t real for them. That is very much in line with the main themes of the show.
3. Means a lot to me
In the final scene of the penultimate episode, Yuri tells Victor that they should end their coaching relationship after the Grand Prix ends. This is because he thinks he’s holding Victor back, that Victor would be happier being free to go back to skating on his own instead of being Yuri’s coach. When I watched this (and, I’ll be honest, this is completely me projecting here) I REALLY interpreted this as an ace thing. I think it’s pretty easy to internalize the idea when you’re asexual that you just won’t be… enough, for other people. In my case I ended up a strong impulse to self-sabotage relationships because I would rather be the one to end things than to let someone else tell me that who I am as a person is fundamentally lacking. Yuri destroying a connection he desperately wants because he thinks there’s something about him that is holding Victor back from a life he’d be truly happy with? Oh yeah. I can fucking relate to that.
Also: YOI came out in 2016, which was the absolute peak of hostility to ace people I was seeing on this site. It was bad here. At the same time Tumblr was going wild over this show. Everyone was watching it. Seeing a whole site of people absolutely adore a character I very deeply in my heart believed to be ace? Extremely vindicating.
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In conclusion Yuri is asexual because it is fun and interesting that way, and also because of this:
#like it adds so much to the show if you view it through this lens! it's really good!#same reason for why I hc zuko as gay like ->#yeah ok you don't *have* to see it this way... but don't you want to live deliciously (in your media analysis)???#yoi#yuri on ice#thank u for giving me the excuse to finally post about this lol this has been building in my head for literally the last 8 years
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Freud Said We Should Fuck [Hotch x Reader]
Photo credits: Left and Right (@shakespearesdaughters) Center (@hotchs-big-hands)
Prompt: When Aaron makes a Freudian slip on the jet, he and the reader get flushed, and later, once the case is finished, the reader finds him in his office on a lonely Saturday and teases him about it. Aka, when the reader and Hotch do something in his office other than paperwork.
Pairing: Aaron x fem BAU-reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns
Category: Fluff/angst/smut
Word Count: 9.9K
A/N: Hi loves! First off, this story is 18+, minors DNI. Please respect this boundary. I’m finally back writing again and I’m so happy about it. However, I feel like it’s going to take me a bit to get back into the swing of things. I had a lot of my AU written and then I just thought it was moving too slow. So I’ve put that on hold for a bit and gone back to what I love smut. I don’t think the sex here is the best I’ve ever written, but I still like it. This idea came about because @silk-spun and I were chatting about Aaron and office sex and I couldn’t stop thinking about it - so naturally I wrote it. Please have a look at the notes before reading as there are some things that some plot points that some readers might want to avoid. I hope you like this and if you do, likes, comments, and replies are appreciated! Content Warnings under the cut. I hope you are having a good week. Love Levi - ❤️
Content Warnings: There are two unsubs mentioned in this fic: The one most talked about is a family annihilator [There are mentions of wives and children being killed, depiction of dead bodies, description of a bloody room, mention of suicide via gun (unsub)] The second unsub kills at random [There are mentions of poisoning, falling to one’s death and drowning (the body is briefly described)] Mention of past trauma and abuse [Hotch] and the mention of an absent father. There is also sex: touching over the clothes, sex in a semi-public setting [Hotch’s office] fellatio, p in v (unprotected] Very slight dom vibes from the reader and Hotch and the slightest mention of a size kink. If I missed any, please let me know.
List with all stories
_y/n_ = your name
_c/t_ = coffee or tea (whichever you prefer)
_u/sf/d_ = up/straight forward/down (depending on height).
_s/l_ = short or long
_kl/s/m_ = knee length/short/mini (pick your favorite skirt length)
_y/f/c/s_ = your favorite color and style (bra)
_y/f/t/f_= your favorite type of food
The team sat in the jet as they moved toward Evansville Indiana. The skilled agents were bantering ideas off of each other, as they normally did. This unsub was very blatant with their modus operandi. As Aaron had debriefed in the conference room an hour earlier with the team and Garcia, he said, “The unsub we’re dealing with allegedly has three distinct personalities. Although I would be hesitant to diagnose anyone with a split personality disorder or DID. Many people with this condition are stigmatized due to the negative stereotypes associated with that name. If our unsub does have this condition, then we work from there. But with what we know now, this might just be a part of the ritual and pattern. The police are adamant that it’s a suspect from a mental hospital, but be wary of this. J.J. I want you to cut this off at the bud as soon as we get to the station. The media liaison nodded and replied, “You got it Hotch. I’ll clear that up and make sure they haven’t come up with any nicknames either. That always gets the press in a stir.” Aaron nodded. There wasn’t time for that kind of coverage right now. The team needed to jump in immediately once they touched down. This unsub had a swift turnaround time, killing in heinous and various ways almost every other night. His signature was that at the body of each victim, the unsub left a note from either the Id, the Ego, or the Superego, and by how killing his victims, the unsub had ‘cured them,’ and how the cure had worked. The killer's notes were reminiscent of Freud’s case notes, detailed and a bit deranged. The methods of death had been drowning, poisoning, being drowned, and most recently a fatal fall from a high cliff on a popular walking trail. _y/n_ had cringed at the sight of the drowned victim’s bloated body. It was blue and purple from its extended time in the water. The poisoned victim didn’t look any better. As was usual with BAU cases, the victims had suffered significantly before their deaths. _y/n_ had asked the group as a whole once the note element came out, “Is this guy serious? I mean, Freud is more infamous than famous at this point. His clients were all wealthy Swiss members of society, and he was ridiculed later in life for changing his theories all the time. I mean, how many Fruedians are still honestly out there?” Spencer happily replied, “In terms of clinical, licensed therapists? I’d say very few. Probably around 0.5 percent at this point. But that doesn’t mean that psychoanalysis isn’t still used in a good deal of therapeutic systems. I mean ‘Talk Therapy’ is the norm in most EBT therapy systems. So although Freud and Heidegger might have faded to obscurity, their theories remain.” Hotch had nodded and said stoically, “Wheels up in thirty. We can continue this discussion on the plane. If the unsub sticks to his pattern. They might have a new victim already.”
Thus the team, plus Penelope were on the plane like normal. Once the jet hit cruising altitude, the team seemed to relax a bit They all fell into their usual clusters, and Hotch observed them. _y/n_, Rossi, and Spencer were continuing the psychological aspect of the case with _y/n_, while Em, Derek, and Garcia talked about the victimology and methods of the murders. Lastly, JJ was writing up a short press brief for the police and the public. Aaron knew we could never be thankful enough for the work that JJ did for the team. She covered their backs more than he could ever imagine. It was hard enough doing the job they did, but having JJ backing them up meant they weren’t smeared in the press even more. Hotch made his way to her. He sat on the seat next to hers and looked over her work. The blond woman handed him a notebook page with her statement from the police force. She said, “This is what I’ve got so far. If you have any more legal or profiler things you’d like me to add, just note them in the margins.” The woman handed him a blue ballpoint pen, and Hotch did his best to look carefully and thoroughly over the short blurb. He added a few police procedural things, but otherwise, it looked good. Aaron pushed the paper back on the small table and said, “Looks good J. I just added a few notes. Let me know when you have the one for the public done, and look it over too.” JJ looked up at him as he stood and said, “You got it Hotch. And I’ll make those corrections after I’m done with this.” Aaron then moved to Em, Morgan, and Garcia. They were looking at a map both on the seat and on Penelope's computer. Derek and Em were pinpointing the sites of the victim's body on the physical map while Garcia did the same on her laptop. The trio was trying to make a geographic profile and also see if the sites were linked to a road, river, or some natural feature. All three victims had been found in parks or locations adjacent to parks. As Hotch looked over the map, Emily said, “Given the natural locations of the dump sites and how well-versed the unsub seems to be with local and national parks in the area, this person may be a game warden or resource officer or something like that. Those positions are often isolating and not well-paid. Maybe the unsub has emotions tied to their work. That they’re not achieving enough, or making enough of an impact?” Hotch nodded at the logic of her statement and said to Garcia, “Once you’ve done that work, Garcia, look up the databases for Park Service workers and Game Wardens and make a preliminary risk. Target those who work in the parks where the victims were found and those that have been having problems at work or have had problems at work in the last two months.” Garcia loved getting directions from Aaron. She always thought that his brain was close to hers, except that he was just the quiet version of her. She smiled and said, “Aye, aye captain. Coming right up.” Aaron gave Garcia a small smile and said, “Thanks Penelope.”
Aaron got up again. Before he moved to the last group, he was going to get a cup of coffee for himself _c/t_ for _y/n_. It was their ritual on the plane now. When they were in the office, _y/n_ got him coffee from the breakroom, and when they were on the jet, he got her drink. Aaron’s and _y/n_ relationship had moved from a strong friendship to a light romance, to, in the last six months, a much more heated and sexual affair. Of course, neither of them could say, and much less do anything while they were at work but show small gestures of affection for the other. Aaron and _y/n_ were both professional and could easily keep their relationship work-coded. That didn’t however, mean that Hotch didn’t think about the things they did off the clock. The sound of _y/n_’s bright laugh had his mind reeling back to last weekend. It had been a lazy Saturday morning at his place. She had mentioned getting a snack from the coffee shop down the street before going on a walk in the park or going to get a new book for Jack, who was currently at Haley’s. Aaron had sleepily said something like, “I think you’re enough of a snack as it is, _y/n_” as he rolled onto his back.
There was a moment of silence before _y/n_ started softly laughing. Hotch moved his eyes to her. He expected her to stop laughing after a minute, but his gaze only had her laughing more loudly. She was nearly in stitches as her mirth overflowed. Hotch, not quite sure what had caused her to be so joyful, poked her side and said, “Alright, I give up. What’s so funny? Is my breath bad or something?” Even as Hotch asked, he couldn’t stop himself from starting to laugh too. This was something unique with _y/n_. She allowed him to open up emotionally in ways that he rarely even had. After _y/n_ had caught her breath she said, “Is that your attempt at dirty talk Hotch? If so you need to take a course.” Aaron scoffed at that and said teasingly, “I’ll make you eat those words _y/n_.” As he finished that sentence, he leaned over her and kissed her. He started lightly but became more intense as _y/n_ ran her tongue over his bottom lip. Soon enough, he was undoing the buttons of her night shift and moving his mouth lazily downward with _y/n_ saying his name breathily every time he nipped her skin lightly with his mouth. His breath was hot on the cool expanse of her body. Aaron realized as he started to make the encounter more intimate and relished in how her body responded to his.
Hotch knew that apart from being with _y/n_, he was about as closed off as human could be, and he knew it. His past as a child had inherently shown him that weakness meant pain and suffering and as hard as he had tried to grow out of that, he still had some of those mental barriers up, and they often rose when he was in situations that dealt with lots of emotions. Often he found himself unable to reciprocate. That was part of the reason that he assumed that he was so good at being a prosecutor and a profiler. People’s emotions, whether they be the unsub’s or the victim’s didn’t cause him to bluster, or lose sight of the bigger picture. He was sympathetic to the victims and listened to them with sincerity, but their pain often didn’t affect him the way it did _y/n_. This was the reason that after he spoke to the various victims, he would direct them over to _y/n_ to talk further. So they could cry unabashedly and have someone to hold them tight as they did so. Often Aaron would catch her eyes as they made the silent trade-off. There was always a silent conversation that happened in these looks. It was Aaron saying, ‘Thank you,’ and _y/n_ responded, ‘I got you.’ With time Aaron had slowly started dropping those barriers with _y/n_. She made him feel more human. More intact with his emotions such as joy and the ability to do the unexpected. Things and emotions which he had hidden inside himself a long time ago. The first time that Aaron had been very open to _y/n_ was the first time that he realized that he might have deeper feelings for _y/n_ than respect or camaraderie.
It had been a difficult case. One of the worst. The unsub had been a family annihilator. The man, Mr. Platheville, was targeting young families with only one child. The madman had killed two mothers and their children leaving the fathers to watch in horror and live with the site of the massacre they had witnessed. The first man they had found was shell-shocked and unable to move. An ambulance and mental health experts had been called for him. The next man had been so angry that Hotch and Derek had to hold the man back from hitting and punching himself or the wall or anyone within striking distance. _y/n_ had watched on with apprehension, trying to calm the man down with her words. Although those two cases had been horrible, it was nothing compared to the last. The unsub had called and said where he was and that he had another family hostage. There were audible screams on the other side of the phone. Mr. Plathville had said, “Come quickly. Please. I can’t stop myself anymore.” At first, the team felt like this was a good step. A great step even. The man was giving himself up and asking for help. However, as the tapped line was about to be disconnected, a child’s voice cut in. It sounded scared and small as it said, “Daddy? What’s wrong with Mommy?” That had the whole team freeze. The realization that Plathville had his own family captive now had the team feel like the floor was dropping out from under them -- everyone’s stomach sinking into knots. Hotch dropped the phone first and softly said, “Everyone, move, now.” After a second, he found his voice and said loudly, authoritatively, “Move. Now.” Aaron started running to the van, and he watched as his team followed him to both his car and the other SUV. _y/n_ and Rossi piled into Hotch’s car and hurriedly buckled as Hotch hit the gas pedal. The rubber tires squealed and burned on the concrete. _y/n_ had snatched the passenger seat in the front. Hotch’s jaw was set in a tight grimace as he sped down the road. His driving was close to erratic. It wasn’t something _y/n_ had seen in him before. _y/n_’s eyes found Rossi’s in the review mirror. The older man also looked a bit concerned as well. Gently, _y/n_ placed a hand on Aaron’s upper arm. She could feel the muscle tight under his sleeve as his hands gripped the wheel. At her touch, Hotch’s eyes briefly left the road and met hers. Whatever expression she had on her face was enough to slow his driving speed. For him to pay closer attention to the road.
Hotch was making her nervous. He didn’t seem like himself, but she didn’t say anything. There would be time for that later. The vans came to a raging halt outside the address that Plathville had disclosed. The house seemed quiet. Eerily so. Derek and Hotch approached the door softly. Derek breached the door and the team rushed inside. The front foyer was dark and there was no sound reverberating around the open area. The team fanned out in the ranch-style house. Derek and Spencer moved to the left side of the house toward the kitchen and guest bedroom. Rossi and Emily took the upstairs, and Hotch and _y/n_ moved left toward the living room and master bedroom. The other families had been found in the living room, and _y/n_ braced herself for a similar scene. Hotch’s shoulders tensed as he moved into the entryway of the living room. It meant that this family was already dead too. _y/n_ felt a part of her break inside, but she pulled the pieces back together for the team. For those who had passed. Both agents stepped into the room. The fact that the walls, carpet, and sofa were cream-colored only highlighted the dark splatters marring the walls, couch, and carpet which was soaked with a dark stain. _y/n_ pointed to the light switch and mouthed, “Should I turn it on?” Hotch nodded his head no and inclined this head toward the bedroom door, indicating that Mr. Plathville might still be in the bedroom. It was the only space they hadn’t breached. If Plathville was still in the house either alive or dead, it was in that room. As the calls of Spencer and Emily echoed through the house stating, “Clear,” a small sound came from behind the closed door. Both agents' eyes snapped to the door, and they moved forward. Once they got to the door. Aaron held out a hand to stop her. He shook his head no. He leaned forward and whispered, “Go look at the bodies. And then stop the rest of the team from entering the living room.” _y/n_ met his dark eyes. They seemed to go on forever. He had the look he had before when the child had spoken on the phone. The same look he had had in the car. _y/n_ desperately wanted to know what was going on in his head, but again, now wasn’t the time. _y/n_ nodded and moved back from the door. She moved to the two bodies on the floor but continued to watch as Aaron opened the door, stepped inside, and said, “Mr. Plathville. Don’t do this. Do you think this is the ending your wife and daughter would have wanted for you?” Hotch closed the door behind him, leaving the room in semi-darkness. Hotch could hear soft movement from the other side of the door. It was _y/n_ and it sounded like she was crying. Aaron pushed aside the soft sounds and focused only on Plathville. The cold metal weapon the unsub was holding in his dominant hand wasn’t pointed in any direction, but it could be in an instant. Hotch didn’t want _y/n_ in the room. Because Aaron knew family annihilators, he knew them because he lived with one of them as a child. As an adult, once he learned the proper terms for killers and sadists, he realized that if he hadn’t taken the brunt of what his father doled out, his own father might have been a Plathville as well. Aaron didn’t want _y/n_ to see what might happen. He didn’t want her to see this. Hotch put up his hands and said, “Put down the gun Mr. Plathville. You’ve been a coward with how you’ve treated others because they didn’t do what you liked. Don’t be a coward now, at the end. Face what you’ve done and prove that you’re actually a man.”
The unsub, eyes dark and glazed looked like he was about to set the gun on the bed. Aaron hoped that was what he was doing, but he didn’t trust the man either. Just as the gun seemed to be safe, Plathville turned the weapon on himself. Outside the closed door, _y/n_ heard a very loud bang. A deafening sound. At this point, _y/n was standing by the hallway with Derek. Em, and Rossi. She was doing her best to keep the three other agents at bay. When the BAU team heard the gunshot, they all rushed back into the room. Derek drew his sidearm as they all did and breached the door. _y/n_’s heart pounded in her chest because she had left him alone. Alone with an unsub who they knew had a gun; and if Aaron was dead, she would never be able to forgive herself. Not for all time. As the team rushed into the room. Hotch’s strong profile stood out against the window. His nose and jawline were distinct against the streetlight that seeped light into the room through the casement window. Aaron seemed frozen on the spot and the still and bloodied body of Mr. Plathville was slumped on the bed. _y/n_ moved forward and avoided her gaze from the new body. She took Aaron’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Not just the room but the house as well. She sensed that he needed the space away from the darkness emanating from the home. The graveyard.
When they were at the side of the house opposite the bedroom, _y/n_ stopped. She looked down at his shoes, they had blood splatters on the toe. She looked _u/sf/d_ at him. His face was also splattered with blood. _y/n_ reached over, pulling the cuff of her white sleeve over her palm; she started wiping away the viscous red fluid from his sharp facial features. _y/n_ reflected for a moment on how attractive Aaron really was, with his stoicism and strong jaw, and how terrible a time it was for such thoughts to surface. _y/n_ pushed them away as Hotch seemed to come to himself, as she moved her hand to the other side of his face. The blood smears here were larger. There was other matter that _y/n_ would rather not speculate on. Aaron’s left hand raised and pushed her own dirtied sleeve away from his face. Hotch seemed to take a small breath, and he looked like a child who had been caught doing something wrong. _y/n_ wondered if it was his showing emotion out in the open that he perceived as being bad. She looked back at him before he seemingly crumpled into _y/n_’s arms. Low sobs reverberated on her shoulder. Tears staining _y/n_’s already soiled shirt. _y/n_ was grateful the police cruisers were on the other side of the house. Parked on the gravel drive. _y/n_knew that they would have to move soon or else the team would come looking for them. She was sure Hotch would not want to be found in such a compromised state.
_y/n_ didn’t know what else to say than, “I’m sorry Hotch. I know it’s sick and fucked up, but at least there’s no one else he can hurt. Not even himself.” And it was true. It burned _y/n_ that Mr. Plathville would face no consequences for his crimes of passion, but when an unsub took the end into their own hands, there was a certain finality to the matter. There would be fewer interviews and less press. There wouldn’t be a trial or the need for written testimony from everyone involved. It felt like a twisted prize for a game no one had asked to play. After a moment, Aaron replied softly, “It’s not that. Or it is that and some other stuff. I don’t know why I’m like this. I’m sorry.” _y/n_ frowned and pulled away a bit. Hotch looked at her with eyes asking, begging for her to stay. She took his right hand which was hanging limply at his side and said, “Let’s just walk down the drive and back. It will give you a moment to compose yourself. Get your thoughts in order. “Aaron seemed to hesitate and said, “But the police… the team, they might.” _y/n_ cut him off gently saying, “They can wait. The cops have plenty of people to interview and material to bag and tag. They can wait while we take a five-minute walk.
_y/n_ found that walking got people talking. Particularly if the people were not wanting to open up. The movement and change of scenery seemed to give whomever she was walking with a breather and a chance to let out some thoughts if they wanted. If they didn’t, then at least they’d both gotten some fresh air. This technique had worked with Morgan, JJ, and Em. I had not worked with Spencer, but Spencer spoke so freely all the time that if he had something he didn’t want to share, then he didn’t want to share, and she understood that. This was the first time she was trying this method on Aaron. As they made it halfway up the drive, and not so much to her shock, Hotch let out a sigh and said, “It was Jack’s birthday yesterday…” _y/n_ looked over to him briefly. His eyes were on the ground, Glued to it. She knew that wasn’t the whole issue, but _y/n_ replied, “I’m sorry you had to miss that for this mess.”
They kept walking. and Aaron let out another breath and continued, “When I see people like Plathville, I see my father. I see a bit of myself in him as well.” _y/n_ furrowed her brow and turned to look at him, walking backward, matching his pace. She didn’t know a lot about Hotch’s father apart from the fact that he was dead and had hurt Aaron very badly. Perhaps she could see a correlation there between the unsub and Hotchner Sr., but she couldn’t see how Hotch was at all like either man. She asked for clarity saying, “What do you mean? I don’t see how you’re like either of those monsters. You’re tied to your father by blood, but he’s gone.” Aaron looked at her and then back down the dark path they were on. A lone streetlamp shone at the end of the road. They reached it and turned back before Aaron said, “It’s a pattern. They were both absent fathers. They both lashed out at things and people. And look at me. I hardly see Jack. It feels like once in a blue moon. And I might not be lashing out at people because my job takes out that stress. But look at me in the office, I’m still anal about things. I just see these patterns. I don’t want to fail as a father, and I feel like I am.” And there it was. There was the crux of his emotions and _y/n_ ached for his pain, for his fear, even if it seemed unfounded to her. It certainly wasn’t unfounded to him, and she’d never say that. As they moved back toward the house. _y/n_ was wording and rewording her response again and again in her head; she couldn’t quite seem to come up with the perfect response. It all sounded too close to “I love you and other people love you too, can’t you see that?” She felt the hairs picked up on the back of her neck and she looked over to Aaron. He was staring at her, Asking for some kind of reply. They were near the house again and she stopped, and he stopped too. Now _y/n_ gave a sigh, her breath making a little cloud in front of her face. She finally replied, “Aaron, I don’t know what this is going to sound like to you, but here it is. I think you’re tired. I haven’t seen you sleep in three days straight because this case is so close to you. It’s close because it involves a group of people who can’t protect themselves, or their children. And I think in some ways after Haley filed, you think that you can’t protect her or Jack either. But Aaron, you’ve handled everything there with as much grace and compassion as you could. You did what Haley wanted and you still try and look after them. And maybe you don’t see Jack as often as you like, but you try. I hear you call him at night when the team’s away. And the stories you tell about when he spends the weekends over make it sound like you don’t just shower him with gifts or love bomb him. You’re trying to have a relationship with him. And I never hear you badmouth Haley, ever, which means your son can know that not all relationships work out but there can still be a kind of love and respect. A lot of kids don’t get that.” _y/n_ took a breath and she saw in his eyes that he was coming more to himself, as she finished stating, “And about you being like your father, yeah, genes are passed down, but I don’t believe that people are born bad. I think something bad happens to them and you either continue the cycle or break it. And you’re far too kind of a person, even if you don’t show it, to keep doing what you’re father did. You’d never do those things to another person. You’re not him Hotch. You never will be.”
_y/n_ looked at him to see what his reaction to her words would be. Aaron looked like he might cry again, but was holding back those emotions. She hoped she hadn’t overstepped some emotional or professional line, but she didn’t have time to ask as Hotch stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. His warm body enveloped her in the cold night. His breath fanned the _s/l_ hair at the nape of her neck. He whispered, “Thank you for that, _y/n_. I needed to hear that.” When Aaron pulled back, he was himself again. He nodded and motioned his head toward the house. As he attempted to move forward, _y/n_ grabbed his coat sleeve, and he looked at her confused. _y/n_ said, “Wipe the left side of your face Hotch. It’s still bloody.” Aaron rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. They both started walking back to the house, and he wiped off his face. As they walked back, there was an understanding that something deeper had happened between them. As Aaron moved past the cruisers with red and blue lights still flashing, he raised the caution tape for _y/n_, and as she stepped under it. Aaron looked at her and felt a warmth seep through him. It bit through the cold outside, and he didn’t mind it.
Aaron pulled his mind out of the haze that was focused on the sounds that _y/n_ had made last Saturday morning. Her moans and whimpers rang in his ears for a second longer. He was thankfully snapped back to the interior of the jet as a bit of turbulence rocked the aircraft. Aaron cleared his throat and moved to the coffee maker. He made himself a cup of black coffee first. He shot a prayer up to any possible deity up there that his body and mind had not synced enough for him to be aroused by his mind's inappropriate wandering. Having to hide an erection wasn’t his idea of a fun time. It had happened once or twice before and he had to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on his face and neck. When Hotch’s cup was done, he moved another clean styrofoam cup under the dispenser and started making _y/n_’s _t/c_. He stifled a yawn. He had spent much of the last two days working on field reports and revising the FBI’s security training. It was woefully behind the times. He had coordinated with Penelope and as helpful as Garcia was in terms of the technological aspects of cyber security, the lingo and Pen’s energy had worn him out a bit. The Keurig beeped, indicating _y/n_’s drink was done. He doctored the beverage as she liked. Aaron half blamed his wandering mind on his lack of sleep and the case. Spencer’s clear voice cut through all the others and he was talking about the more interesting sexual elements of Freud’s theories including the more lurid Oedipus and Xena complexes. Reid was going on about how the notes from the unsub seemed to really dive into those theories even though there was no sexual aspect to the case yet. Hotch grabbed _y/n_’s cup and moved back to the final group he had not spoken with yet.
He sat next to _y/n_ and handed her her cup. _y/n_ looked at Hotch and gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her drink. _y/n_ had a random thought, as she mulled over the bizarre nature of the case. She said aloud, “What do you think Freud would think about people using his theories like this? I mean he was odd and problematic, but not that odd.” Aaron had his eyes closed, and he replied without even thinking said, “I think Freud would say we should fuck.” _y/n_ nearly spat out her drink. The liquid burned her throat as it went down. Hotch caught his mistake and flushed, quickly amending his statement saying, “I mean if Freud were still here, he would probably think the unsub would want to have intercourse with his victims. It could either be latent sexual attraction or transference of sexual desire for an authority figure like a parent or teacher. An attraction that shouldn’t be acted out.” Hotch could feel his ears burning, and he hid his face by taking a long drink of his coffee. The dark liquid burned his mouth but this pain was better than having to face to look of utter shock of his friends. Thankfully the awkwardness only lasted a second longer as Spencer picked up on his hurried line of thinking saying, “You could be right. This unsub might be impotent and killing as a means of sexual release. Or they could be killing as a displacement tactic for unwanted feelings.” Reid jumped into that conversation with a fervor and _y/n_ added her thoughts in too along with taking some notes on the comments Spence made.
Although Spencer didn’t choose to comment on what Hotch had said, when the Unit Chief looked over at Rossi, his friend had an eyebrow raised and an expression that said, “Really, Aaron?” Hotch closed his eyes, sighed, and rubbed a hand over his eyelids as if saying, “I’m tired. Alright?” When Aaron opened his eyes again, Rossi just gave a little shrug as if saying, “Hey. I have three ex-wives. I’m not one to judge.” The older man ever so slightly looked over to _y/n_ and gave a small smile. The team knew that Hotch was seeing _y/n_. They were all too perceptive not to tell. But what he had just said was more personal than the team needed to know. At least not yet. Aaron liked keeping his private life private, and he would have to apologize to _y/n_ for putting their personal business out there like that. He was just thankful that he had made that slip of the tongue in front of Spencer and Dave and not Morgan and Garcia. There would be no end to the gossip if that had been the case. Aaron sat back in his seat and did his best to put back on the Unit Chief facade. One great thing was that he was able to compartmentalize his emotions and what had just happened was just a blunder. He fell easily back into the conversation and made himself useful to the team.
The case was a wild one with the team being kept on their feet, as the unsub devolved into crazier and more complex kills. Thankfully the unsub, one Kathy Kittery got sloppy as her mind crumbled under the weight of her own brain. Thus, only one other victim was lost, the others, though traumatized would make it through the ordeal. Ms. Kittery was a therapist who had had her license revoked after having an affair with a client. Once she had taken that blow, she had moved to a second career that had always interested her. Being a Ranger in a State Park. However, as it turned out, the mental isolation did not help with her already troubled state and she had slipped into acting on her delusions, thus the need for the team to come in the first place. After the unsub had been arrested, the team, as normal, was assured that she wouldn’t be seeing freedom for a good long while. On the jet home, Aaron’s sexual comment was almost forgotten by everyone, including himself, but _y/n_ remembered and as she closed her eyes to sleep on the short flight back, her brain played out certain scenarios that she also wouldn’t want to be voiced in front of the others. When the jet touched down, the team disembarked and _y/n_ asked Aaron as they walked back to the main office, “So, what are you doing tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday and she hoped that they could spend the day together or with Jack if he was staying over at Hotch’s that weekend. It felt like a while since they had had a good day to themselves. Work had piled up, and she longed for just a few solid hours with Aaron. Hotch, however, didn’t seem to pick up on her tone as he was tired. He replied in a monotone, “Probably filling out paperwork in the office I’m behind on like three cases worth and this makes a fourth.” _y/n_ pouted slightly. She knew she was being silly, but sometimes Aaron needed a break for his own good, and an idea started brewing in the back of her mind. If she had the nerve to do even half of what her head was cooking up, she would have done something she had been imagining for a long time. Longer than was appropriate probably. For the moment she just said, “Mhm. Sounds productive.” Hotch scoffed as they both entered the sliding glass door. Even he knew his life, and particularly weekends sounded miserable sometimes. After all, he was the one that put him through them.
The next afternoon, _y/n_ pulled up to the Quantico field office. She parked her car next to Aaron’s and set her employee parking pass on the dash so it could be seen by security. _y/n_ chuckled remembering the one time that Derek had forgotten his pass and had his Corvette towed on a Saturday. Her athletic friend had been so flustered, saying, “Oh come on! I work at the freaking FBI you’d think there would be some camera’s in this lot and they’d know I work here!” _y/n_ had laughed, patted his shoulder, and offered him a ride to the impound lot to pick up his flashy car. As _y/n_ moved through the mostly empty lot she smiled. Not that she expected there to be a lot of people at the office on a Saturday afternoon, but it boded well for what she had in mind. As entered the office and was waived through security quickly, she hadn’t brought her gun or anything important with her. She entered the bullpen and looked up at Hotch’s office. His lights were on and she could see him looking at something on his desk. It was most likely a field report. The bullpen was empty and most of the lamps on the desks were off. One or two burned brightly in the soft space. One or two of the agents must have forgotten to turn them off in the rush to get home on Friday. She turned off the lamps as she texted Aaron, “Hey, you at the office?” She looked up at his office window and his head turned to the side. Clearly, he had just received her message. His left hand raised and a second later her phone beeped. Hotch had sent back a simple “Yes.” He was never one to be overly elaborate over text. If he was forced to type more than one full paragraph he would just give up and call instead. _y/n_ always chalked it up to his hands being too big for the small phone screen. He probably made a lot of accidental typos with his thumbs and had to go back and correct them which seemed like a thing that would annoy him to no end, even if he did have autocorrect on his phone. _y/n_ took a breath as she looked at Aaron again. He was back to his paper. _y/n_ had jokingly said she would do this if the spirit led her, but somehow seemed like the dirty things she was picturing in her head were driving her up the stairs and not ‘the spirit.’ Outside Hotch’s door, she knocked once and then turned the knob. She stepped into the dimly lit room and closed the door behind her. She softly said, “Hey Hotch, how are the papers going?” Aaron looked up from his desk. He did a bit of a double take as his eyes flicked to his phone and then back to her. His eyes held a hint of surprise, warmth, and general confusion as he said, “_y/n_. What are you doing here? Do you need something?” _y/n_ couldn’t help but flush already. Hotch was just too cute sometimes; especially when he wasn’t trying.
_y/n_ smiled at him and took a seat across from him at his desk. _y/n_ sighed and said, “I was just bored I guess. I had nothing better to do, so why not give you a hand with your paperwork? Maybe I can get you out of here earlier than five p.m. on a Saturday?” Aaron raised a brow. He highly doubted that that was _y/n_’s only reason for being here, but he wouldn’t question her. Instead, he picked up a case file, and set it in front of her saying, “Suit yourself, love.” _y/n_ flushed again and pulled one of Aaron’s ballpoint pens out of the cup he kept a stash in. _y/n_ wondered how many pens he dried up per year, but wasn’t in the mood for calculus problems right now. Instead, she opened the file and started working on the first page. She had to take it for at least ten minutes before she made a move. _y/n_ assumed if she outright said, “Hey wanna have sex in your office there would be two simultaneous outcomes. The first was that she would no longer be Aaron Hotchner’s partner and that she would be a former FBI Behavioral Analyst. Neither of which sounded very appealing. So she took her time.
When Aaron seemed absorbed in his work again, she slipped off her shoe and moved her foot across the space between her side of the desk and his. It was a bit of a reach, but she managed to brush Aaron’s ankle and the inside of his trouser leg. That did it and Aaron’s eyes snapped to hers. They were dark, hiding emotions that he often kept at bay. He cleared his throat and said, “_y/n_, really?” You chuckled and said, “Sorry. I just like to see you flustered.” _y/n_ pulled her leg back and Aaron watched as she flushed but returned to her papers. _y/n_ knew he liked it when she was a tease sometimes and that was her plan for this potentially risky act she was trying to have with Hotch. After another ten minutes, _y/n_ repeated the same action, except this time she moved her foot higher up his leg She applied gentle pressure to the inside of his leg. His grey trousers were cool under her foot as they moved up past the knee and onto his inner thigh. Her dark stockings were the only barrier between her skin and the fabric of his pants. _y/n_ looked up at him and he let out a soft breath as if his brain hadn’t caught up with his body yet. When the two entities of mind of body did collide his brows furrowed trying to reconcile the pleasure coursing through his body and the fact that this shouldn’t be happening in his office.
Before he could make any protestation, _y/n_ cut him off saying, “So, ‘Freud said we should fuck’ did he?” This reminder of his slip of the tongue gagged Aaron momentarily. It gave _y/n_ enough time to shift lower in her chair and slip her foot high enough to press over his crotch. Aaron let out a little grunt at the contact. _y/n_ continued to run her foot over his zipper, up and down in a rhythmic pattern. _y/n_ smiled as his eyes grew hazy with desire. A look she’d seen on him often, just not in his office. Never in his office. But she had dreamed about it plenty. She’d woken soaked on occasions with the notion of Aaron having her in his office, blinds drawn tight as they made love in the enclosed space. Aaron stuttered trying to make a coherent sentence, but his cock slowly hardening in his pants was not helping him at all. _y/n_ could feel it under her foot and continued to tease him saying, “You know you really shouldn’t make comments about our sex lives in front of a team of profilers. I think you owe me an apology?” _y/n_ pulled her foot away and Aaron groaned at the loss of contact, but suddenly his mind was more clear. Half of Aaron’s brain cursed _y/n_ for knowing just the right way to turn him on. The other half was already imagining her splayed out on his desk as he ate her out, or pounded into her so hard that the desk left marks on her hips. Those thoughts alone had his member twitch against his belt and fly. To consumed in his thoughts, Aaron slipped off his own left shoe, and perhaps more gently than _y/n_ had, he moved his foot up her leg and to her cunt. _y/n_ opened her legs for him slightly pushing her _kl/s/m_ length skirt up a bit. Even wearing socks, Aaron could tell that _y/n_ was wet. The moan she made as he just brushed over her sex and him realize that he couldn’t wait. That he needed her, now. Hotch took away his foot and reveled in the needy noise _y/n_ also made at the lack of contact. Hotch moved quickly to his door, locking it from the inside before closing the shades to the office. His movements were hasty, jerky even. _y/n_ watched him, knowing the sexual tension must have built up since the last time they had been intimate.
_y/n_ wasn’t sure what Aaron had in mind but she did have to ask, “There aren’t any hidden cameras in here, right?” Hotch chuckled, the sound was throaty, and he replied, “Not that I know of. And if they are, then at least we’ll both be fired.” _y/n_ laughed at this and took his hand; she led him back to his office chair. _y/n_ appreciated that he had a sense of humor in these moments that were new to him. _y/n_ knew that she pushed him to do things he hadn’t before both in and out of the bedroom, but he never complained and the bulge in his pants told her that he was already looking forward to what she was about to do for him. Aaron looked up at her a bit amazed at the things she could make him do. Never in his life had he thought he would be able to act out his fantasy. _y/n_ leaned down and kissed him softly at first and then with more hunger and ferocity. Aaron reciprocated in turn. As their lips looked in a passionate heated kiss, _y/n_ moved her hands to the belt that kept his trousers in place over his trim hips. It wasn’t as hard as _y/n_ had imagined taking off his belt without looking. The cool metal of the clasp heated against your skin. You moved to his pant’s button and zipper next. _y/n_ didn’t want to wait around anymore and once his grey briefs and thick arousal were freed, _y/n_ started palming his erection with a steady hand. Once her hand started stroking him, Aaron let out a gasp. He opened his mouth enough for her to slip her tongue into his mouth. He breathed in her throat and had her make a small contented noise as she explored the well-known concaves of his mouth. _y/n_ would never consider herself a sex expert, but when it came to new positions or scenarios with intimacy and Hotch, she often found it helpful if she took the lead. Warming him up to the idea. Making him feel comfortable and safe before they kept doing whatever it was they were trying. Oftentimes Aaron would jump on board and take the reigns, which she adored. She loved it when he told her what to do, how to lie. Everything. It was one of Aaron’s most attractive traits.
_y/n_ pulled her mouth away from his and wrapped her hand around his cock, more steadily pumping his length. Aaron said her name as he started moving his hips to meet her pace. His body responded to her touch. _y/n_ smiled at him and moved away for a moment, pushing his chair back enough for her to kneel under his desk. Aaron pushed his hips up and let _y/n_ pull his pants down, exposing his cock to the cold air. Hotch took a few steadying breaths. He knew what was to come, _y/n_ gave some of the best head that he had ever had and the anticipation of her lips on her member had him panting already. He said, “Can you not kneel all the way down like that, love? I want to touch you while you’re dining me?” _y/n_ smiled, relishing the fact that he was already taking a small amount of control of the situation. She nodded and said, “Of course Aaron, anything you ask.” With his request in mind, _y/n_ got up on her knees. It was helpful because she needed the reach to be able to lean over and take his tip in her mouth. She swirled her tongue over the top and slit, sucking at it like some rare candy. Hotch groaned as she moved her head down his length slightly. _y/n_ took in his width and length with surprising ease. He was always surprised by her ability to take him. It only made her more attractive to him. As his head swam with pleasure and endorphins, he moved his own body forward and down a little. His head almost rested on her shoulder as he moved his long arm to feel between her legs and upper thighs. He slid his hand down and over between her skirt. As he started rubbing her clothed sex, _y/n_ moaned over his cock. She took a second before she kept moving her head further down him. Her mouth and tongue doing things to him that almost made him see stars. His left hand kept massaging her wet, clothed folds while his right pushed up her shift and kneaded her breasts in turn over her _y/f/c/a/s_ bra. Aaron could feel her nipples grow rigid under her bra and he moved his hand under the intimate article of clothing that covered her chest. He squeezed her right breast and squeezed her nipple. As _y/n_ started moving her head up and down his whole length, Aaron matched her pace with his hand on her clit, pushing and pulling sensations out of her. It turned out Hotch was so aroused, so excited that he kept moving his hand faster over her sex and clit, and _y/n_ kept up her own pace. Aaron panted and tipped his head back as he released some precome and she moved off him sucking it off of him. As she moved to take him in her mouth again, Aaron stopped her with a hand on her shoulder. _y/n_’s mind and body were also hazy with desire. Her entrance ached to be filled by Hotch more fully. His hand was amazing, but nothing beat him seating himself in her fully and then fucking her to the heavens.
Aaron could see this desire in her. A desire for him alone. Aaron pulled her onto shaky feet. He stood as well. He kissed her again, the beginning of stubble running over her chin and jaw. He pushed his pants and briefs fully off his legs and undid the side zipper of her skirt. He let it fall onto the beige carpet. He pulled back from her mouth and slipped his hands at the elastic of her stockings. He was too impatient to pull them down gingerly. Instead, he used just a bit of his strength to rip them down the center seam. _y/n_ let out an exhalation of breath. She knew it was going to get good now. Not that it hadn’t been good before, but she knew that it could get even better than his thumb and middle finger rubbing against her sex and clit. Aaron looked at her panties and noticed how they matched her bra. He murmured, “You had this all planned, didn’t you, you little devil?” _y/n_ gave him a wink and said, “Maybe just a little. You mad about it?” Hotch let out a little throaty growl and slipped his fingers under the band of her underwear. When they were on the floor, he moved to the desk. He pushed his files to the side along with the batch that _y/n_ had been working so diligently on a few minutes ago. He might desperately want to bend her over his desk, but he wasn’t so stupid to waste three good hours of work by having his files fly all over the place while he fucked _y/n_.
Once the forms were safely on the other side of the desk, Aaron grabbed her hips, turned her body 180 degrees, and then pressed her upper body flush to the hard dark wood of his desk. Hotch had unbuttoned her shirt and her skin felt cool against Hotch’s desk. She anticipated Aaron’s next move as he moved behind her slowly. Hotch pumped his throbbing length once or twice to ready himself. Another bead of precum moved to his tip and he wet his member with it. Even if he was ready and _y/n_ was ready, some of her wetness was even dripping down her thigh, Hotch was going to tease her still, as she had teased him. Aaron moved right next to her and slid his cock up and down her entrance, slightly pressing at the space that was begging for him. Aaron used his left hand to stroke over her weeping sex and _y/n_ moaned saying, “A-aron. Please. Please fuck me. Oh god.” Aaron looked at his length now coated in his and _y/n_’s excitement. It didn’t take more than her words for him to press himself into her fully with a measured thrust. _y/n_ let her out a breath and Hotch could feel her body press into the side of the desk. Aaron pulled out and pressed in again. _y/n_ let out a whimper and there was a slight squelching sound and he began to move in and out of her more quickly. Aaron's thick cock filled her fully and Hotch watched as he pushed in and out of her building his speed. The veins of his length ribbed her insides and _y/n_ almost let her feet go from under her, the desk and Aaron holding up her weight as he kept pressing into her with a relentless pace. _y/n_ could feel him fill her fully, pressing his whole member deep inside her. Aaron knew just how to move his hips to hit her sweet spot and she was panting and babbling in under a minute. Aaron moved one hand to her mouth whispering, “Shhh, now. We wouldn’t want to get caught, now would we?” _y/n_ wanted to protest and say, ‘You know no one is out there, Hotch,’ but her head was so full of lust, desire, and longing to let go. Aaron’s movements had her desire building and she knew Aaron could feel it too. Hotch picked up the pace, rapidly thrusting into her. He moved his left hand to her clit and let go of her mouth so she could let out a litany of sounds. As he kept his fast pace and circled her clit, her body pushed roughly against his desk with every thrust, she whimpered, “I...I’m gonna come, Aaron.” Hotch smiled and leaned down so his chest was flush with her back. His hand on her outer erogenous zone moved quickly and _y/n_’s walls fluttered and then contracted against his cock. _y/n_ cried out and let go of everything, letting the pure bliss of her orgasm overcome her. The sounds of her release had Aaron climax as well. He groaned as he pushed into her a few more times as he let his spent his ejaculation into her. Their shared sounds of pleasure filled the room and Aaron considered how this was better than he could have ever imagined. _y/n_ though spent, felt the same way.
Hotch took a moment to catch his breath and after a minute he let out a contented sigh. He pulled out of _y/n_ gently. As _y/n_ similarly let out a hum of happiness. She loved the way he was so gentle with her at the end of their intimate encounters. Aaron helped her stand and led her to the couch at the side of the room. Neither exactly felt like saying anything in the soft afterglow of their shared experience. Aaron had her sit on the couch and pulled moved back to his desk. He opened the left drawer and pulled out a pocket square that he rarely wore. He found the linen handkerchiefs too formal and stuffy. And as someone who came off as formal and stuffy already, he didn’t need a fashion accessory to add to the impression. But now, the fabric would come in handy. Aaron walked back to the couch with the confidence of a man who had performed very well. _y/n_ would have laughed at his cockiness if he wasn’t so damn good at sex. The first they had done it, she was so tight that it would have hurt if he hadn’t helped prep her very well. Now he fit her perfectly and he knew it.
She smiled lazily at him as he knelt down and gently cleaned her up. He loved her, but if his or her release started staging his furniture, it might lead to awkward conversations later. When he was done cleaning her body, he wiped himself. He raised his head and said, “Was that everything you wanted darling? You did very well by the way. You felt so good for me. I hope I was the same for you?” _y/n_ beamed and said, “It was everything I wanted and more. Thanks for indulging me. Aar. But I do think you should get out of this office. Being cramped up in here isn’t good for you mentally, sexually, or physically. So what do you say we get out of here and get an early dinner and watch a Christmas movie at my place, huh?” Aaron chuckled and folded the soiled handkerchief to the clean side facing out. He put it in his pocket and smoothed down his now very crumpled shirt. He grabbed his pants and underwear along with _y/n_’s skirt and panties. He tossed them over to her and they both changed. As Aaron zipped up his pants, he said, “Sounds like I good plan. These papers can wait till Monday morning.” Somehow _y/n_ always seemed to know what he needed, and he wasn’t going to fight her on it now. Not after what they’d just done. As _y/n_ put her clothes back on, he paced his briefcase and packed _y/n_’s ripped tights inside with his other work. He wouldn’t just throw those away in the trash by the door. As he did this, _y/n_ moved behind him and gave him a hug saying softly, “You know I really liked those tights, so I expect a replacement stat, mister.” Hotch chuckled and said, “You got it, _y/n_, but you know I couldn’t help myself. Not when you tease me like that.” There was a shared laughter as Aaron turned off his lamp, grabbed his and _y/n_’s bag, and opened the door for both of them. He locked the door to his office behind him and trailed _y/n_. He had suddenly grown an appetite and asked, “So, what type of food are you feeling.” _y/n_ thought about it as they descended the stairs. She took his hand and said, “How about _y/f/t/f_?” Aaron smiled and said, “Sounds great!” _y/n_ rested her head against Aaorn’s shoulder and contemplated how lucky she was for him, and for Freudian slips.
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Tipsy, smutty headcanons w/ cevans characters (pt. 2)
(aka: how Ransom Drysdale would fuck you after a family dinner goes south)
He raises the subject on a lazy Sunday morning, over toasted English muffins and runny eggs on his sunny kitchen island.
Throws out the question like it’s a casual suggestion, but you know it’s a bigger deal than he’s letting on—in the short time you’ve known Ransom Drysdale, you’ve managed to pick up on a few of his tells: a quick tug at his collar, tongue darting across his bottom lip as he glances off to the side.
You know I’d rather die than sit through dinner alone.
And when it finally sinks in that your boyfriend of barely 2 months was asking you to dinner at his family’s house, you have to take an extra long sip of coffee to process what it really means.
Though you barely knew anything about Ransom’s family, you’ve heard enough horror stories about the Drysdales and Thrombeys to last you a lifetime.
Yet, you can tell from the way Ransom’s avoiding eye contact, and the way he’s been nudging the food on his plate for the last half hour, that this means something to him (and that a lot of other things mean something to him too, despite his indifferent exterior). So, you respond with a sweet ‘I’d love to, Ran,’ leaning over the marble island to seal your promise with a kiss.
Dinner at the Thrombey manor is about as pretentious and droll as you’d expected. From the tactless queries about your family’s tax bracket to the seemingly light-hearted jabs at your career—a PhD, huh? So that must mean kids are out of the question?—the evening is littered with tense moments from the first course right up until dessert. Yet, you evade every invasive question with a breezy answer and sweet smile, reaching under the table to squeeze Ransom’s hand whenever you see him stiffen in your periphery, lips twitching with simmering rage.
Promise me you’re not gonna let them get to you.
You’d reminded him at the entrance of the mansion, straightening out the edges of his collar with a calm smile.
And Ransom keeps his promise for the entirety of the dinner, refraining from sarcastic commentary to the point where Linda Drysdale starts eyeing her son with an inquisitive brow.
It’s not until after dinner, when Walt Thrombey ceremoniously suggests drinks and cigars in the drawing room, that things start heading south.
You should’ve seen it coming—all that jealously and insecurity brewing inside Harlan’s youngest son, always walking on eggshells around his dad just to keep his job at the publishing company. Forever envious of the potential that Harlan only sees in Ransom.
So, how’s my favorite nephew doing?
Walt sighs, sinking back in his armchair with a Cuban cigar between his lips. Uncorks the extravagant 40-year old Cognac he’s been saving—anything to get a rise out ofthe black sheep of the family.
And surely enough, it only takes a couple drinks before the backhanded comments start flowing faster than the alcohol. A snarky jab at Ransom’s car, his job.
How’s that freelance… writer thing going, Ransom?
Then rubs the latest best-sellers from his publishing company all over your boyfriend’s face.
And when none of that manages to get a rise out of Ransom, Walt’s gaze shifts over to you. Grins smugly around his cigar he takes a long puff.
He shrouds the room in smoke, directing a slurred question right over at Ransom as if you aren’t even there:
So. Another flavor of the month, huh Ransom? How long do you think this one’s gonna last?
Even Richard Drysdale bristles in his seat, startled.
And you swear you see red flash across Ransom’s face as the room falls silent.
You murmur Ransom’s name, reaching over to squeeze his arm. But he beats you to the punch—grabbing your hand in one swift moment, lurching out of his seat and nearly tipping the couch over.
Eat shit, Walt.
With those words, he storms out of the room, you in tow. Slams the door behind you both, sealing the frenzy of bickering that erupts from the rest of the family:
Jesus, Walt, you really had to say that?
Ransom, honey, please—don’t go.
Really, Walter?
Oh come on, Lin, you know I was kidding!
Ransom remains silent the whole drive back, gravel crunching under the wheels of his beemer as he pulls up to his driveway. Instead of asking him to talk, you decide to let him have his space, slipping upstairs for a warm shower. God knows you needed it, after all the dirty looks Joni and Donna were flashing your way when they thought you weren’t looking.
When you walk back downstairs, you find Ransom hunched over the kitchen island, nursing a bottle of beer.
Because despite all the top shelf liquors paraded around during dinner tonight, you know Ransom’s drink of choice has always been beer.
Craft beer, to be more precise. In fact, he’s a little bit of a beer geek—growlers lining up his shelves, his fridge stocked with bottles from the best microbreweries around New England.
He pops open the top of what looks like his third drink, tossing the cap alongside the empty bottles of Treehouse littered atop his counter.
You approach him, feet sliding quietly across the wooden floor as you let your hair down, toweling off the wet ends.
Ran.
He remains silent, gaze fixed on the marble countertop as he takes another swig of his beer.
Ransom, are you still upset about what Walt said?
When he still remains motionless, you sigh, pursing your lips as you take another step forward.
He was just drunk. It didn’t bother me, really.
Slowly, he glances over at you. And when his blurry eyes come into focus, they flit down your frame. He finally opens his mouth, voice barely above a whisper.
That my sweater?
Hmm?
You pause, frowning at the question, and glance down at the knitted beige sweater enveloping your frame—his sweater, covered in so many holes and snagged threads that you’d always had poked fun at him for even keeping it around.
Oh, yeah, do you mind if borrow it? I found it in—
You’re suddenly interrupted by a dull ‘clang’ as he drop his beer down on the counter, rushing forward toward you. His hands search desperately for your waist, pulling you flush against him as his lips meet yours in a frenzied kiss.
He pulls you back into the kitchen, crowding you between the counter and his giant frame. Your eyes flutter shut, feeling his heavy breaths against your skin as his lips drag down your neck, nimble fingers dipping under the hem of your sweater. And when his palms snake around the back of your thighs, hoisting you up on the marble surface, you gasp against his mouth, gripping at his shoulders for balance.
Ran, w-what are you doing?
And without missing a beat, you feel him murmur into your pulse point:
Loving you.
Taken aback by his shameless affection, because Ransom’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeves, you blush, eyes flitting up to the ceiling.
Y-you’re drunk.
Maybe.
He hums, hands traveling underneath your sweater to grip at your hips, your waist, pulling you even closer to where he needs you most.
But I’ve never felt more fucking lucid in my life.
He looks you dead in the eyes, wetting two of his digits with his mouth before he reaches down.
Ran.
You murmur aimlessly into his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut at the way his palm slides against your sex, thumb rubbing slow circles against your clit as his fingers sink into your heat.
And when he decides you’ve taken enough of his torment, he lays you back on the marble countertop, loose magazines and beer bottles toppling to the floor as he carelessly shoves them aside. Shucks the sweater up to your neck so your tits are on full display, smiling at the way it makes you whine, cheeks flushed and eyes glossy with desperation.
The sharp lines of his face softened by something other than just the alcohol, his gaze flits down to the apex of your thighs, mouth inching southward as he murmurs:
You want me here, darling?
He spreads your legs wide open, arms snaking around your thighs and pulling you down to the edge of the counter.
Tongue pressed flat against your clit as he sinks two fingers into your heat, trying to coax more of those pretty little whimpers out of your mouth. Degrades you just a smidge, smirking into your cunt:
Fuck, look at you in my sweater.
Nose digging into your mound as he stares up hungrily, chasing your sweetness on his tongue.
C’mon, play with those pretty tits for me.
Pulls back just as your head starts lolling over to one side, a telltale sign that you’re on the brink. With your lips buried into the soft material of his sweater, you start to babble incoherently, broken syllables of baby, and please, and fuck.
You close, darling?
You meet his eyes from between your legs, squirming as you nod under his gaze.
p-please—Ran, need, need ta…
Mm, you’re gonna have to beg louder than that, sweetheart.
He shakes his head, flashing you a shit-eating grin as he draws feather-light circles over your clit, just enough to keep you teetering over the edge.
Please, Ransom, fuck me, I—
And when he finally lets you come, it’s the kind of toe-curling, back-arching-off-the counter orgasm that wipes your mind clean of everything that’s happened that evening. The noise that escapes your mouth is enough to reach his neighbors from down the road, his fingers curling and hitting that spot just right, flooding you with waves after waves of pleasure.
Once you finally come to, he clambers over you with a hungry snarl, giving you a bruising kiss.
You pull back, blinking up at him with an exhausted laugh as you wipe the wetness off his chin with your thumb.
He leans back down with a lazy smile, giving you another quick peck before muttering against your lips:
Move in with me.
You frown, the abruptness of his words knocking out whatever breath is left in you.
What?
He gazes back silently, expression unwavering despite the incredulous look on your face.
Mind still half-gone, you try to wrap your head around his words, eyes widening when it fully sinks in.
B-but, Ran, my dissertation—
—then we’ll get a place in Cambridge, I don’t care.
He seals his lips with a determined grin, and you know he’s made up his mind. Now, he’d do anything to try and convince you too.
And it there’s one thing you’ve come to learn about Ransom Drysdale, it’s that he never gives up easy.
He reaches forward, cupping your cheek in his palm. And the smug smile on his pretty pink lips is indication that he already knows—knows that you don’t any convincing in the first place.
Well, why don’t you think on it while I…
He smiles, crossing your ankles behind his hips as he pulls you down, hoisting you off the counter.
…give you a proper fucking upstairs?
author's note: aaand what was supposed to be a headcanon/drabble situation turned into a one shot. I just liked the setup leading up to the actual smut too much to let it go! Also, I think this is the first ransom fic I’ve ever posted?! Lmk what you think!
P.S. the point about Ransom being a beer geek is 100% canon—a fascinating tidbit that makes his character that much more endearing. (peep the new england craft beers in this scene and this hidden secret abt the position of the beer bottles!! rian johnson is truly a mastermind.)
(read pt.1 w/ steve and frank here!)
#ransom drysdale#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom drysdale smut#ransom drysdale headcanon#chris evans characters#chris evans headcanons#headcanon#smut#knives out#chris evans
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auahaagg i saw you write for big mouth and i’m here now to give you a request…
if you write nsfw for big mouth, could you do nsfw headcanons of judd being a hard dom with a sub/fem!reader?
thank you in advance!
im gonna do sex on a laddyyyy and the ladys gonna do sex on meeee
hello anon! thank you for a big mouth request <33 and the first one for BM too! if you want to request anything from BM, I only write smut for characters above 18, so I will not write anything NSFW for andrew, nick, or any other characters.
I also find this funny because I wrote this while my health science teacher was talking about sex haha
warnings: nsfw headcanons (ofc), knife play, this is not vanilla, HOLY SHIT I SPELT VINALLA RIGHT, hate fuck??, d/s, fem! reader, CNC.
by clicking read more you consent to anything and everything in the warnings
-judd would not be a virgin. he 100% lost his virginity right out the womb HHAHA. but saying he’s not a virgin would make him a cherry popper, change my mind. i know for a fact this man has a weird obsession with taking your virginity and making sure he’s the only one who does.
-omg would fuck you in his t-shirt because he hates when you wear it.
-hard. core. kinks. does smoking count? because you guys will get high and/or smoke while having sex, preferably, while your on your knees and hands while he gently (or not so gently) pushes into your warm cunt. knife play, breath play, iceplay, bondage, CNC. nothing is better to him than having a hand around your neck while he presses a knife to your stomach, gently tracing circles with the tip of the knife; or playing around with some CNC. judd is dark, and I mean d-a-r-k. he probably enjoys a fantasy of drugging your drink/food, watching you fall unconscious next to him, Judd then tying you up on his bed and cutting your clothes off and watching you until you wake up. (with consent, that's the whole idea of CNC)
-face fucking!!!! he’ll have you on your knees, or your head hanging off the back of his bed while he fucks your mouth. he would keep going until your face and throat are numb, fingernails causing little crescents in his hips. he much prefers to receive rather than give, but he’s not opposed to doing 69, or going down on you if you asked nice enough. (aka begged until you were thoroughly embarrassed with yourself.)
-did judd have a bad day? is judd jealous? did you do something to piss him off? he’s 100% a hard dom and would slap you around/manhandle you during sex.
- early morning quickies before your job in the back of his van. (let's be honest, if your dating judd, your probably skipping school.) saying you were on birth control, he’d probably cum inside and make you sit in it for the rest of the day. (please don’t do this tinkle after you sex)
-don’t try to dom him, it aint gonna work. it’ll be a cold day in hell before judd birch becomes a sub. and, no pegging. sorry my ladies and lads.
-OK OK he’ll throw around orders without too much care, telling you exactly how he wants his dick sucked, to speed up or slow down, to get on his lap. and he’s so blunt about it too, like he’s been doing it since he was three.
-low/deep groans. those sounds can turn blake Sheldon gay.
-his degradation skills are dangerous. it’s pretty rare, but sometimes he’ll throw i a small praise at the end of a degradation sentence. “your such a slut, whining from something so little? my good little whore.” D56FYG7UHIJ
-his favorite is when he can make you cry from pleasure. that's when he knows he did a good job, that and when you can’t walk the next day.
-SADISM. he’s such a big sadist, and you better be a masochist. he loves, loves LOVES to scratch/bite, or slap you. he also finds it accomplishing when you leave scratch marks down his back. it lowkey freaked diane out when she saw all the marks and bruises, but understood it was just rough play once she saw the same marks on judd.
-also big on somnophilia? something about watching you sleep so peacefully stirs his dick. maybe its the fact your so helpless? he just loves watching your sleepy breath pick up as he runs his fingers over your folds.
-and then to wrap things up, his aftercare game is ass. most he’ll do is throw his shirt at you and then watch a movie with you. sometimes he’ll shower with you, but then it turns to shower sex. haha.
PLEASE send more bm requests I love writing for it
vergilsladyfriend 2022. do not repost without permission. reblogs are appreciated!
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