#and kept my innocence my sanity and my good taste

[jaevie]

Wrong Hands

Pairing: bodyguard!Jaehyun x mafia(afab)!reader

Genre: Yandere vibes, smut, kind of angsty sometimes.

Word count: 6.3k

Summary: When your father arranges your marriage to a mafia heir, your bodyguard, who has been in love with you since you were kids, isn't letting you fall into the wrong hands.

Warnings: Consensual non-consent, kidnapping, knife play, shibari, fingering, humiliation/degradation, dirty talking, oral (female receiving), little blood play, abdomen riding, unprotected sex. This fic also contains mentions of death and drug abuse.

N/A: One more for the list, and another that came out before expected. And even though I did some proofread, it was not perfect. Enjoy it!

© This fic is an original work from jaevie, 2023. 

The color of the sky was a dusky purple that matched your satin lilac dress. There was a delicate daisy behind the shell of your ear, that a boy had personally put. Your hands were on his cheeks, small, innocent and gentle. Your lips tasted like vanilla ice cream, irises reflecting gold under the last rays of sunlight when you kissed him.

He had never been kissed before. 

“You taste wet,” you hummed, making the boy chuckle.

“Do you like it?”

“I dunno. Let me check again.”

You placed another peck on his mouth, taking the chance to lick his lower lip, and retracted with a lovely laugh. 

A laugh Jaehyun still remembered, twenty years ago, as he kept watch on your bedroom door.

You two were six, avid children with curiosity in their bellies, exploring the fields at your family’s countryside manor as Jaehyun’s father did what he knew best: look after your mother. His dad had profoundly apologized for bringing his kid on your family trip - because his mother could not stay home with him -, but your mom kindly dismissed his guilt, telling the bodyguard that Jaehyun was not only welcomed, but invited and allowed to play with her daughter.

At the occasion, his father had looked at him like a warning. “Be good to miss Y/L/N, Jaehyunnie, will you?”

Jaehyun nodded. All he ever wanted was to be good to you. 

No one knew. No one knew you ran the fields until your legs burned and exchanged loving pecks when you were too tired to play.

It was when Jaehyun realized there was nothing else he would rather do than to be your personal bodyguard, dedicating his nights and days to make sure you were safe and sound. Pay you the doubt of the endless joy you brought him whenever his mom went missing from rehab. So he fought, tooth and nail, to gain your dad’s trust and get hired. He fought with his heart, eternally devoted to you. It was in his blood, after all.

He blamed it on your laugh. A laugh that made the world warmer, as though Jaehyun was not scared of his father’s occupation, of the risk he took in order to protect your mom. A laugh that made him oblivious of the constant sadness that filled his soul, leaving no space for nothing else, when his mom broke the house down because her drug abstinence was playing her sanity.

You made the world loving. You were his most precious being.

He was pulled out of the depths of his reminiscences when you opened the door, coming out as beautifully as always, in a lean black suit and your hair free, rebellious, smelling like the vanilla he tasted on his lips decades ago. 

You stopped on your tracks, looking down at a bag that was placed by your door, right next to Jaehyun’s polished shoes.

“Another mysterious gift from my secret admirer?” you smirked. Someone had been leaving you indecent gifts for a couple of months: ridiculously short dresses, several styles of lingerie, and an interesting variety of sex toys that had been making your legs weak. Dildos, vibrators, anal plugs and other different inventions that had you cumming alone in your bed, all while your handsome bodyguard listened to your moans outside. 

You both knew who your secret admirer was. 

“He’s been creative lately, it seems,” Jaehyun breathed nonchalantly. 

“What is it this time?” you made a move to kneel, but Jaehyun was quicker than you, politely handing the bag over.

Ideally, he always went through the bags’ content to make sure nothing harmful would get to you. Not that he needed it. It was just for the sake of appearances.

You grabbed a cute, pink clitoral suction toy and matching nipple clamps shaped as daisies. “Lovely,” you praised, knowing Jaehyun decided to go symbolic this time. “I’m truly getting spoiled.”

“You must deserve it, miss.”

It was almost fun, how Jaehyun pretended he had nothing to do with it. Lifting your eyes to his, you smirked. Frank. Cunning. Knee shaking. “I’ve got a little something for my admirer. Can you make sure it finds him?”

Trying his best to conceal the interest in his eyes, Jaehyun nodded. You disappeared inside your room for a while, returning with a small paper bag. 

“You’re the best, Jaehyun! By the way, be ready to leave in one hour. I have reminders to give downtown.” 

“Mr. Ash again?” He guessed, as though he did not care for the bag that was, now, in his hand. 

“Exactly. Gotta teach him a lesson.”

“Don’t forget you have a family dinner later.”

“What would I do without you?” you chuckled. “Alright, see you in a bit.” 

Once Jaehyun was alone in the manor room reserved for his resting hours, he removed a tiny and rosy thong from the bag, one he had bought you a week ago. It rested against his gloved hand, small, adorable. Soaked. Fuck, it was still wet with your pussy juices, something Jaehyun had always fantasized, wondering how they tasted like.

He didn’t hold back. Why, when he could bury his nose in the soft cotton fabric? Why, when his tongue could stick out to finally get a taste of your anticipated flavor? No, there was no need to hold back. It was your gift. You had freely given it to him. 

Jaehyun’s senses amplified with the bittersweetness of your juices and the scandalous vanilla scent in the nearly insignificant piece of clothing that had covered your vulva minutes ago. Closing his eyes, he unzipped his pants and put his cock, red and angry, out. He fucked his fist with your panties pressed to his nose, mouth drooling where your juices were. 

Quicker than anything Jaehyun had ever witnessed, your hand came down against the table surface, and Mr. Ash screamed in half surprise, half excruciating pain, as the blade of the knife buried in his open hand, dark blood running down to the floor. 

Jaehyun reached for his revolver in no time, ready to pull the weapon out and shoot at any of Mr. Ash’s men who tried hurting you, although he doubted it. It took a lot of nerve to raise a hand against you. 

You were the mafia lady. A true White Rose. Strong, smart, undeniable. Wealthy, merciless, with looks so stunning it added to your reputation. 

Raising a hand against you was like heresy. 

“Look at you, Mr. Ash, whimpering because of a knife,” you mocked daringly, holding the tension in the room with a sly chuckle. “Who’s the whore now, hm?” 

You removed the knife just as smoothly, watching with a neutral look as Mr. Ash brought his bloodied hand to his chest. 

“Remember your place, sir, or I won’t have a problem cutting it into you,” you warned like it took a clap of your hands to make the world stop. 

Only when you turned around, Mr. Ash spoke again. “It doesn’t change a thing. You can stab, kill me for all I care, but it won’t change the fact the Red Roses are getting their share of your market. And their deals are way better than the ones you’ve been giving me for the last seven years.”

Unbeatable, you turned on your heels. “That’s just a display of your dishonesty. Anyone could have asked me for a more reasonable deal, but you decided to sell the Reds a bit of my opium. You’re lucky I stabbed your hand, not your throat.” You tilted your head in thought. “What a mess it would make, such a thick, disgusting dirty neck.”

Jaehyun took a deep breath, trying to control the emerging bulge in his pants. You… You were fucking sinister. 

His thoughts were interrupted when Mr. Ash spat on the floor, his saliva glistening close to your heels. “Fuck you,” the man said, with a firm rage in his eyes. 

Those were the last words he had the chance to utter. Before you opened your mouth to reply, Jaehyun had already shot. Once, twice, three times. Shots that pierced Mr. Ash’s skull, and the unfortunate throats of his men. The bodyguard put his arm around you as you walked out of the hotel room, people already starting to wonder what had happened. That part of the town belonged to the White Roses, so you did not worry about the police, or further investigations. 

“Now my deal’s over,” you breathed.

“You don’t have to make deals with assholes. Traitors,” Jaehyun retorted, looking down at the small blood smudges on his black leather gloves. “He disrespected you, Y/N.”

You liked how it sounded like a sin in his mouth. 

“Dad’s not going to like it.”

“Your father doesn’t like a lot of things, missy.”

“Seems like I’m telling good news over dinner,” you shrugged, laughing it off. 

Family dinners were not unusual to you, nor to Jaehyun. His role was to drive you over whatever expensive ass restaurant your father had chosen, and stay by a private room door while you discussed businesses. After your mother and younger brother passings, you were the only person to inherit your father’s legacy. So he taught you well - even though Jaehyun believed you had a bolder, freakier, and way more effective way to handle things. 

He followed the script. Driving you, following you closely, and staying by the door along with your father’s personal bodyguard, keeping an attentive, flawless eye on everything that happened at the surroundings as people talked, ate and drank.

The food was served: rack lamb to your dad, and, Jaehyun knew by heart, your favorite dish to you. Carbonara. Shortly after the food arrived, he listened to the sound of a chair angrily ragging the floor. Suddenly, you stormed out with the heaviest steps. 

Jaehyun was at your back in no time. “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head, your way of telling him you were not ready to speak yet, fuming so badly smoke could leave your nostrils and ears.

Jaehyun took you back to the car and jogged to the driver’s seat. “Home?”

You shook your head again. 

“Safe place?”

A simple, certain nod had Jaehyun driving smoothly away from the city’s chaos and straight into the arms of a quiet, isolated hill. The city night lights glistened like stars up there, and a nearby stream completed the melody of cicadas and gentle breeze notes. Once the car was parked, you came out, shutting the door carelessly, and jumping on the hood. Jaehyun watched how your hair moved with the wind. How your eyes were trying to find a way out for whatever situation you were in. 

Even if he was curious, Jaehyun gave you time, waiting patiently until you opened your mouth. 

“Dad wants me to marry Johnny Suh,” you announced, a nuclear bomb straight to Jaehyun’s head. “A marriage to assure the corporate deals between our companies, to fight the Red Roses. It’s already been arranged.”

Johnny Suh. Jaehyun remembered him. A tall figure, with a face that was hard to forget, and gentle manners. A boy born rich, spoiled, but cultured. A sweet loving man to his parents. A good student. Funny. No. Johnny Suh was not the man for you. You deserved thrilling. Temptation. Lust. You deserved someone who challenged you, someone who made your life fun, who protected your back as you conquered the world with unpredictable moves, fatal as knives. Someone who allowed you to be your freakiest self.

There was not anyone for you but Jaehyun. 

“You don’t have to marry him,” your bodyguard announced, unaware of how he held his breath, how tightly his fists clenched at the idea of you marrying another man. Oh, how badly he wished to just slam his cock inside you and make you his, right then and there. How badly he wanted to make Johnny Suh bleed. 

Jealousy left a bitter taste in his mouth. 

You chuckled humorlessly. “Perhaps if someone kidnaps me. You know my dad. He said it was non-negotiable. Fuck!” you cursed, rubbing your face in frustration. 

Lowering your hands, you instinctively searched for Jaehyun’s eyes. It ached seeing the despair around your pupils. “Can you help me, Jae? Help me find a way out? Please?”

Jaehyun stood in silence for a few seconds, but when he spoke, you felt a cold shiver running down your spine. A shiver provoked by the fatal glow in his eyes.

“I’ve been keeping unwanted hands away from you for years, miss. I intend to keep it that way.”

Two days later, you found yourself packing up for a quick getaway suggested by Jaehyun, to ease your nerves before the dinner party that was going to announce your engagement with Johnny. It was a perfect, fittable idea, as you could use some of your time in the mountains, coming up with a plan to avoid the matrimony. Your acquaintances had already taken a closer look at Johnny’s companies and deals, and as Jaehyun drove, you took notes on the backseat. Bargains, blackmailing, manipulation, perhaps an alliance with other big players in the market… Everything was a possibility. You just had to figure the details out and come up with a convincing, flawless plan.

You were not going to end up like your mother. Tied to a relationship you didn’t want. Tangled with a man you didn’t feel attracted to. Having his babies, easing his temper, keeping his bed warm. Becoming a target for his enemies to aim and shoot. 

No. You were much better than that. Much more important.

Jaehyun watched your calculating expression through the rear mirror, as though he could read your mind. Little you knew there was nothing to worry about. He had already taken care of everything. 

“Miss, I’ll make a quick stop for gas,” he announced. You showed you were listening with a hum. 

When the car came to a stop, Jaehyun turned around. “Stretch your legs a little. We’ve been driving for four hours.”

“All that?!” your eyes widened. It felt like one hour to you. 

Jaehyun smiled. “I’ll get you something to munch on.”

Accepting his suggestion, you jumped out of the car. It was nearly ten in the night, and there wasn’t anyone around but you, Jaehyun and the gas station staff. The air smelled like a spoiler for the rain, and you decided to take a walk around as Jaehyun disappeared inside the convenience store.

With careless steps, you took a turn to the back. That part of the road was surrounded by mountains already, so you were probably close to arriving. The sight of the many pine trees moving with the wind relaxed your mind, and for one moment you indulged in forgetting the violence of your situation. A forced marriage. Your father seeing you as an object he could offer in exchange for his own interest. The absolute recognition that no matter how many years had passed, you would never be seen as powerful as your young brother.

“Fucking assh-“ you started cursing, but never finished. 

A gloved hand covered your mouth, pulling you flush to a stranger’s body as he lifted you in the air. 

Your blood instantly sped in your veins, adrenaline screaming in its cells as you tried to kick and punch the man, doing your best to scream and bite his hand. In vain. When you realized, a tape covered your mouth, and your body was thrown inside a car, hands cuffed to the door handle. 

Through the despair tears in your eyes, you noticed your kidnapper wore a scream mask, one that glowed in terror under moonlight. 

Like a little girl, you wanted to sob. To beg for him to let you go. For him not to hurt you. 

Jaehyun. Where was Jaehyun? Was he seeing what was happening? Was he going to save you?

Your heart thundered in your chest, and soon heavy raindrops started falling from the sky like brutal tears. Your kidnapper moved to the driver’s seat, and you squirmed like a leech in what seemed long hours, only if you suspected it only lasted minutes. Slowly, as the car was already on the road, your brain regained a bit of its consciousness. You made sure to take deep breaths, and a closer look around. The dark road barely allowed your vision to make sense of anything, but after a few minutes, you managed to outline a way too familiar suitcase on the backseat, by your side, and a pair of white, comfortable sneakers that belonged to you by your feet. 

In slow motion, you looked over at the masked man. A hood covered his head, but the length of his shoulders was committed to your brain like it belonged to someone you knew. 

His gloves… You knew them.

A boiling type of anger assaulted your guts, and you were squirming once again, trying your best to kick the back of his seat even if your legs didn’t reach it. The bad words your mouth let out became blurred words against the tape, like a baby mumbling, but you continued cursing. Calling him a fuck up. A pervert. Stupid. Dumb. 

Strangely, the idea Jaehyun was kidnapping you made your panties soaked with warm, sloppy juices.

You continued to kick and curse until Jaehyun pulled up and removed the mask, turning around to look at you. 

“Fucking relax, Y/N! It’s me.”

You managed to lift your middle fingers to make him realize that you thought of that.

Honestly, Jaehyun was expecting you to snap. He knew you too well to think you’d react otherwise. Somehow awaiting your hurtful words, he leaned over to remove the tape from your mouth. 

Oh, how absolutely gorgeous you looked, wearing rage like a jewel, your eyes glowing in fury, cheeks smudged with tears, your hair messy like you’d just had sex.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing?” you spat loudly. 

“I’m helping you,” Jaehyun calmly replied. “Keeping you safe.”

“How’s kidnapping me any helpful, Jaehyun? Uncuff me!”

He loved when you got all bossy. It went straight to his dick. “I’ll uncuff you when we get to where we’re heading.”

His words made your eyebrows clench. “Has your insanity gotten to your brain and made you stupid? I said uncuff me. Now!”

In one swift move, Jaehyun leaned over the seat and grabbed your chin. Hard. “You never shut up, do you, miss?” His eyes stared harshly at yours. “You wanted a way out. Well, I’m giving you one. One that won’t have that controlling shit of a father running after you because his princess didn’t want things his way.”

Holding his gaze, you growled. “What made you think you could put your dirty hands on me?”

Jaehyun replied by removing his gloves and sliding his hand between your legs, right where he could feel how maddening drenched you were. The smirk on his face was enough for you to eat up your words. 

“I think this little pussy likes how dirty my hands are.”

He pushed your panties to the side and coated two of his fingers with your juices before sliding them all the way inside your mouth. Weak, you moaned around his fingers, flavoring the complex taste of your gluttony.

“Listen, miss,” the bodyguard murmured. “I’m gonna take you somewhere safe and fuck that pussy until it’s numb. That’s how you’ll show some fucking gratitute for what I’m doing, get it? In the meantime, try not leaking on my backseat or I’ll make you lick it clean.”

Oh, that was it. That was fucking it. You got euphoric, blood running warmer down your navel, as Jung Jaehyun, usually so polite, so ready to please you, the man that had killed for your name countless times, your first kiss… Jung Jaehyun put you in your place. He made you feel like a spoiled cunt, and there weren't enough words in your vocabulary to specify how badly you loved it.

You kept quiet for the rest of the ride, mind slowly getting into a clearer state. Arousal had perfectly substituted fear. So, even if you tried your best, your soaking core did leave a mark on the leather, one you could not hide when your kidnapper parked in front of a wooden cabin and finally uncuffed you.

“Move aside,” he commanded. As soon as you obeyed, he inspected the leather ridigly, eyes coming across a leak that was shaped like a cute heart. 

Without him having to say a word, you leaned forward and licked it clean, eyes dilated with lust. 

“Happy, freak?” you tasted the word in your mouth, looking down at his pants, where his bulge twitched. “You like being called that, hm? You certainly act like one, spoiling me with all your gifts and masturbating to my fucking panties.”

Jaehyun smirked, offering you his hand. You took it, letting him help you up and moaning softly when he pulled you flush to his chest. “You’re a freak just like me, miss, soaking the car of your kidnapper. Like a fucking whore.”

He raised you in his arms, with your cunt pressed to the bulge in his pants, and grabbed the suitcase with his free hand. The inside of the cabin was cozy, small, intimate, and minimalistically clean; the black furniture and the musky scent adding a male touch to it. Jaehyun placed you down on a bed with black silk sheets.

“Where are we?” you asked. 

“My house. No one’s finding you here,” he spoke while going through the suitcase, removing a rope. There was something extremely arousing about fucking you in his place, in the sheets that smelled like him. “I’m tying you up to make sure no one marries what’s mine. That’s what you’ve been, right, missy? Mine. Using all of the toys I gave you, moaning loud so I could hear behind the door?”

You gazed at the insanity glimpse in his eyes, so wicked and yet so loving, almost criminal, like Jaehyun wanted to live inside you. Submissively, you let him push your wrists together, deciding, for the sake of fun, to play along with his game.

“W-why are you doing this, Jae?” you faked an afflicted tone, staring up at him with big blazing eyes. “Please, let me go. I won’t tell anyone, I promise.”

He tightened the ropes around your wrists, tying you to the bed frame. Then, his hand dangerously slid towards your lips, thumb running on the plushy flesh. “Don’t you understand? I’m doing this because I love you… Always have, since our first kiss. You remember, right?”

The confession sped your heartbeat, making your hands sweat. It felt lovely to hear such words, to recognize the beautiful feelings Jaehyun had for you, even though he had a very peculiar way of expressing them. 

Protecting you was his love language.

If you were to ever experience danger, than it had to be by his own hands.

“It was a kid thing,” you lied, because no one else’s lips had given you such butterflies ever since.

“Oh, but it wasn’t,” menacing, Jaehyun leaned closer, brushing his lips to yours. He closed his eyes, like your aroma was too much to take. “You’ll see I’m the only one for you. The only one who can wife you up.”

His obsession excited you, a coil of thrill running down your navel, making your exposed pussy leak on his sheets. 

“Jaehyun,” you pleaded. “Please.”

“Please what, miss?” He placed an angelic kiss to your forehead, hands quick to lift your top, freeing your breasts, and bunching your skirt up your waist. “Are you scared I’m gonna hurt you? Don’t be… Jaehyunnie’s gonna take good care of his slut.”

You shook your head. “I’m no slut.”

“You’re all talk, miss. About being independent, bossy, but look at you,” he chuckled dryly, entertained by the sight between your legs. “Your pussy has never been this wet, has it? Plus… I’ve got a little something for you.”

When his hand came back from the suitcase, you gasped, eyes wide between genuine fear and pleasure. The blade of Jaehyun’s personal knife shone aflame under the cabin’s dim lighting. 

“Fuck,” you moaned, rubbing your hips against nothing. 

“Told you. You’re a fucking slut, as perverted as I am,” Jaehyun cooed. He languidly ran the blade against the skin of your belly, causing you to stop any movement. He used it to cut your panties first, then the pretty red velvet skirt you loved, and finally your top, leaving you all naked for the delight of his eyes. “So fucking beautiful…Should have fucked you first. Should have been your only one.” His eyes took in every inch of your body as Jaehyun replaced the knife with his hand, sliding two of his long fingers inside your pussy.

The way you breathed his name was exactly what he was looking for. 

“Good girl,” he praised. “Let Jaehyunnie fuck you, baby. Let me fuck you good and you won’t regret it.”

His thumb started rubbing circles on your clit and you held onto the ropes, spreading your legs wider for him, heatedly accepting his invitation. 

“Gotta prep this cunt for my cock,” your bodyguard whispered. “Make sure it is all stretchy and ready before I fuck you like a bitch in heat.”

“You’re so filthy,” you managed to speak back, immediately noticing how he liked your degrading tone. “Such a fucking loser. You’ve only got the balls to fuck me by kidnapping me.”

Jaehyun smirked. “Yeah? Is that what you think, miss?”

“You fucking bet.”

He stopped his movements right there, pulling his fingers out, and you could not control the pout blossoming on your lips. Jaehyun moved to grab something that had been by the bed, removing a realistic dildo from the suitcase, one you recognized as one of his gifts. Skilledly, he placed it on… on… On a dildo machine.

You felt a thin layer of sweat cover your body while Jaehyun adjusted it, placing the tip of the toy right against your entrance. “Gonna fuck some respect into you,” he growled. “Make you understand I wish nothing but to make you feel good.”

The girth of the dildo stretched your gummy walls, making it gape and clench around the toy. Mercilessly, Jaehyun set it to a high speed, and before you knew it, you were taking every thrust as your delectable breasts bounced, your moans mixing with whimpers and cries.

“Bought all these things for you, missy,” Jaehyun smiled in awe to watch you. “To keep you satisfied. I love you so fucking much…”

“Jaehyun, please-“ you begged, even though you could not understand why. 

Jaehyun lowered himself until he was facing your pussy, and stuck his tongue out to slowly lick your clit. “Holy shit!” you gasped.

“Come on, miss. You can cum. Cum on my bed.”

Restrained in his pants, Jaehyun’s cock twitched as he sucked on your little bundle of nerves, watching the pornographic view of your body approaching the edge. He kept his eyes open, knowing it was because of him: he was the one making you feel good. The one using your beautiful, sloppy cunny, making it gape and squeeze as you threw your head back, face contorted in pleasure and sweet, sweet body shaking ravishingly. 

It was a sight to hang on a wall, like an art piece.

Aware of your post-orgasm sensitiveness, Jaehyun turned the machine off, slowly dragging the dildo away from your hole. You whimpered, hazy eyes searching for his.

“So pretty, miss…” he hummed. “Bet you’ll look even prettier with my cock buried in you.”

“No, please-“ you whined. 

In reply, Jaehyun harshly grabbed your chin, his gaze piercing you like the blade of his knife. You could tell he was dead serious this time, searching for true, genuine consent so he could fuck your brains out. “Tell me to stop, miss, and I fucking will.”

Swallowing the saliva in your mouth, you simply smirked, giving him all the approval he needed, and showing how badly you liked to play with him.

“Fucking cumslut,” Jaehyun roughly turned you around until your knees were on the bed. You watched as he taped your mouth again, even though you fought a little against it, holding tightly onto the sheets when, with one swift move, his cock was slammed inside you.

Controlling the absurd pace he was about to set against your hips, Jaehyun took a deep breath. “Is it okay, missy? Can I move?”

You nodded desperately, moans muffled by the tape and the uninvited drool that ran down your chin. It was all it took for Jaehyun to let go years of masturbating into his fist, finally finding heaven in the tight grip of your slutty walls. There was little you could do but take it. Take it like a good girl, the best of the best, your pliable body bouncing on the mattress as Jaehyun pounded mercilessly into you, eyes fixated where your cunt gripped his cock, as though trying to keep it inside forever. 

“So freaking tight… Seems like you’ve never been fucked before, love,” he praised, voice shook with how blissful you were making him feel. “You’ll never think of leaving now, will you? Why would you, when I can give you cock, hm? Why leave when you can let me ruin you night after night?”

You looked over your shoulder, finding your still clothed bodyguard turning all your twisted fantasies into reality, like he knew you inside out, bone, flesh and filth, like he inhabited all of your wet dreams.

Your gaze faltered when he prodded at the rim of your back hole with his thumb.

“Feels good, doesn’t it, miss? Should Jaehyunnie put a pillow underneath to rub your pretty clit too?”

The noise that left you was foreign even to your own ears, but it could only be interpreted as desperate consent. Generous, Jaehyun quickly positioned one of his pillows under you, forcing your pelvis against it, which caused a lovely friction on your most sensitive spot.

“That’s it, that’s it,” he cooed soothingly. “Rub yourself on it, babe. Fuck yourself on my cock.”

You did what he said obediently, moving your hips back and forth. What a delight it was to Jaehyun, watching your ass cheeks bounce as you took his every inch, his thumb pressing sweetly against the rim of your lubed hole. He felt it when you came, your pussy spasming, your hands fisting the sheets hard and your upper body giving out, resting on the bed as you kept your ass up for him. Seconds later, edged by your own high, Jaehyun came too, spurt after spurt of warm thick cum filling you up.

For the first time in his life, Jaehyun felt more blessed than average people. He felt as if he hit the jackpot with you so putty in his arms, especially when he untied your wrists and took a close look at the fucked out expression on your angel face. You were his. And you were not leaving. Ever. Not like his mother. Not like anyone else. You were staying, bold and true and fuckable, because there was not anyone else for him.

You sustained his look, allowing a small grin to bloom on your lips affectionately when he removed the tape from your drooling mouth. “What, loser?”

“You look gorgeous like that.”

“Smitten,” you hummed. To prove your words, Jaehyun took your reddened wrists to his lips, kissing them lovingly. 

“Sorry about the rope.”

“You can apologize by fucking undressing.”

He chuckled. “Why don’t you do it?”

Sitting on your thighs, you swiftly reached for the knife, testing its weight on your hand before using it to sharply cut his expensive black tie and the bottoms of his shirt. Hungry, your eyes alternated between his toned abdomen and his interested eyes before you ran the blade gently down his abs. However, as soft as you tried to be, it didn’t keep the blade from actually cutting him a little, a cut the size of your little finger’s nail, right next to his navel.

“Sorry,” you pulled the blade away as soon as you realized what you’ve done. 

“S’ okay, miss,” Jaehyun assured with sweet eyes, rubbing your cheek assuringly.

Without much thought, you dove in to lick the cut clean, pulling a deep grunt from Jaehyun’s throat. 

“You’re so…” he breathed. “You’re so fucking perfect, Y/N.”

Oh, you liked how it sounded, holding his gaze as your hands pulled his shirt down his arms. Jaehyun’s chest was now in full bloom for your delightment. His pants and boxers followed the same destiny, landing on the floor inaudibly. Taking your sweet time, you admired his bareness, biting your lip in arousal.

Putty in your hands already, there was little Jaehyun could do but comply when you hovered over him, climbing up his body until your cum stained pussy was rubbing against his abs, leaving a trail that burned on Jaehyun’s skin where it touched. “My handsome, strong bodyguard,” you whispered in his ear as his hands held your hips softly. “How long have you been dreaming of getting pussydrunked with me, hm?”

“Fucking years,” he admitted. There was no need to hide his obsession.

“That’s why you never had another woman? Because you were waiting for me?”

Truth be told: Jaehyun never had any time to be with someone else. He was twenty-four hours by your side, protecting your every move. He knew your routine, your preferences, your enemies. He knew your favorite dishes, your goals, your ambitions. Jaehyun had killed for you. Once, twice, thirteen, twenty-seven times. There wasn’t any space for anyone else in his life. 

And he wasn’t ashamed to admit it.

“Let me pay you for all the longing,” you hummed slyly, lowering your hips until they aligned with his already hardened cock. Grabbing the base, you slowly pushed it in, a loud moan filling the room when he was fully slotted inside you. 

You rode him like your life depended on it, loosened hips circling his shaft while your sloppy walls squeezed his cock viciously. Never before had you seen Jaehyun so vulnerable. So needy as he was when he moaned your name, helping you bounce on top of him. “You have the perfect cock,” you whimpered. “Better than any of the toys you’ve gifted me.”

“Fuck,” the bodyguard threw his head back, trying to draw the image of you taking his cock forever in his mind. How you rolled your hips, how your breasts moved, how you lubed him with more and more juices. “Is that so, missy? You like my cock buried deep in your fertile cunt?”

“I love it.” Your hand came lower to rub your clit, right in front of him, causing Jaehyun to nearly cum at the sight.

“That’s my good fucking girl. My beautiful White Rose,” he growled, making your toes curl at the compliment. “Wanna cum all over my cock as I fill you up again, miss?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Good. Keep rubbing that beautiful clit for me. Take yourself there.”

It wasn’t hard to cum again, and this time, you moaned his name as he filled your womb with his seed, holding your melting body against his with a satisfied hum.

Jaehyun wrapped his arms around you, giving your back soft rubs while he tried catching up his breath. When your gazes met again, you two laughed blissfully, like only fucked out people did. 

“You fucking kidnapped me!” you protested. 

“Thought you’d like it.”

“Sure. That’s every woman’s dream,” you rolled your eyes.

“You were dripping in my car.”

“Because it was you. I wouldn’t have liked anyone else.”

Jaehyun playfully smacked your butt cheek. “Excellent. That’s what I like to hear.”

You let your chuckle die on your lips before speaking again. “I’m not sure I can be kept here for too long, though. ”

“As much as I’d love that, I know,” Jaehyun breathed. “I know that my White Rose has important shit to deal with. I just don’t want to see her married to Johnny Suh.”

“Me neither.”

Jaehyun brushed your hair back, tugging a strand behind your delicate ear. He had always loved its color, its shape, how it graciously adorned your beautiful face. 

“I can take care of him for you,” he suggested firmly, meaning every word. 

Deep inside, you liked how ready Jaehyun was to kill for you. How he would get your back even if you decided to burn the world down to ashes.

“I appreciate that, babe,” you smiled. “But I think we can solve this without any drastic measures.”

“You choose. But if he ever touches you, he’ll lose his fucking hands.”

You lifted your face and gently put your hands on his cheeks, pressing your lips to his. When he closed his eyes, Jaehyun was sent back to the fields of your childhood, with the golden sun bathing your skin and your lilac dress, and you telling him he tasted wet. 

Opening his eyes, he came across the breathtaking sight of your smile.

“Don’t worry, Jaehyunnie, I’ll come up with something,” you assured, resting your arms each on the sides of his broad shoulders. “But, for now, all I’m gonna do is to be yours, just like I’ve been dreaming too.”

His eyes glowed in the many promises of your words. Like a laugh that pushed his nightmares away. And this time, because he could, Jaehyun collided his lips to yours, for real, until he swallowed your breath and his mouth was swollen, until he knew the flavor of your moans. Until his whipped heartbeat was loud in his ears. 

“Jaehyun…”

“Yes?”

He drank from your smile, how lovely you dove in for another kiss as your next words shook him to the core.

“Freak me.”

#jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #nct 127 #jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun #nct smut #kpop smut #nct imagines #jaehyun imagines #jaehyun scenarios

[myckicade]

'The Terror' Reactions

Two of my girlfriends have finally sat down and started watching The Terror. They've made it to the middle of episode six, and they seem to be getting the Full Terror Experience. So far, I've received mixed, and amusing reactions. They've been so good, I've kept a list.

Warning: Some spoilers ahead!

Disclaimer: We've been best friends for more than twenty years, so some of this may make me sound like a terrible friend, but... I am. So.

One is taking my dislike of Hickey as a personal offense. (To which I tell her, "Hey! More for you!"). But she's bound and determined that the sun shines out his ass, and that I have no taste in men. What my visual assessments have to do with characterization and plot, I have yet to uncover.

The other wants to dig a hole and bury Goodsir on God's back forty. I might be offended by this one, primarily because her only reasoning is, "I don't like his face."

Neither like Crozier. Mr. Doom & Gloom isn't going to be voted Miss Congeniality, any time soon. I think the whiskey has something to do with it. Call me Sherlock.

Both - and this is possibly my favorite - believe that Jopson is up to something. "Nobody that pretty is innocent." The running theory right now is that playing nursemaid is a front, and Jopson is going to use the Powers of Pretty to manipulate Crozier into doing something dreadful. (Jopzier is my flagship. This is killing me).

They've gone Switzerland on the subject of James Fitzjames. This will not stand.

Tuunbaq is a collective hysteria brought on by scurvy. Who knew?

Got a little turned around with the flashes back and forth to England. John Bridgens and Sir John Ross believed to be the same person. Questioned extensively over how one man could be on the counsel, and also serving aboard Erebus. "Old grey men, they all look alike!" Momentary hilarity ensued (but only for me).

^ I explained this with visual aides, in the form of a picture of John Lynch, side-by-side with a picture of Clive Russell. It took fifteen fucking minutes. It was a real, "Fruit... Fruit! Tits... Tits!" Moment. (If you don't get that, please go watch Black Sails).

I couldn't figure out who the fuck they meant when they mentioned Captain Morgan to me, this morning. "I've watched this series fifteen times. Who the shit are you looking at?" It was Le Vesconte, y'all. During his announcement of the Carnivale. I had to hang up the phone.

"The surgeon and the grumpy doctor eyefucking is speaking to me." <- Left on my FB page.

"Why didn't they grow a garden below deck?" is possibly the dopey-est thing I've ever heard either of them say. Love them.

"I didn't know tin cans caused scurvy!" I amend my previous statements.

I can't wait for them to get off the ships. While entirely entertaining, my sanity can't take much more of this.

#We're all in our mid-thirties #It feels a bit like high school again #And for the record #I'm not saying I didn't have to go back and watch the show a second time to get everything good and squared away #I totally did #These two are just taking the fucking cake #The Terror #The Terror AMC #The Terror Reactions #The Terror Spoilers #The Terror AMC Spoilers #Mycki's Besties #Mycki Rambles

[sakuramidnight15]

Royal AU (Idol AU) Chizuko

(Tagging: @rosietrace and @starry-night-rose)

(Members tagging: @fumikomiyasaki @nem0-nee @authoruio @windbornearchon @twsted-princess @hades-eternal and @oseathepebble)

_________________________________________

"is she a maid? A young woman? Or an assassin? She's merely anyone out of pure daylight... When night aroused together with the full moon... She soon to take out with the color red... perhaps a warning sign which to her beloved lilies..."

-------------------------------

(Background Description Below: WARNING! Too much of detailed of mentioned within the writing..)

Normality what she used to be... However nobility was never her signature sign of oath.

Manners? She refined it.

Lady-like? There's succession.

Wealth? Has it all.

Freedom? She had the rights... But always get denied.

Within her family's manor, she seen all of what we're nothing new. After all she is the eldest of her family tree bloodline... Especially when it comes to witch-crafts and demonic abilities, but she never gain it during her innocent days... Well it lasted for her.

Between her father and herself alone... It was never good to begin with till she reached to the day that she wanted to have a taste of a freedom... But how much endless nights of burden that made her lose more of her innocent as it drains.

...till that night came... The scent of blood spread everywhere within the woods one night as a thief broke into the manor...

This was a final straw for her living heart to be sorted within her sanity...

She still remember what she looked like after that issue... Laying on the floor... Red was everywhere within the floor where she was laying...

It was indeed everywhere...

.

.

.

.

As times, time was settled but not for nobility... It was for survival for the sake of living thanks that she left the manor... As grandparents saying it was for the best that she can decide things for herself.

Though rumors had spreads that she is around the town she's in... Many says that she is worth beauty and price for greed.

This resulted to an rather an abduction.

She can clearly remember of what was planned, as her days resulted into working a secret pub...

Clearly the owner didn't want to lose this chance, although the plan to achieve it never came, because her mind is beyond far away than her normal state.

.

.

.

.

It was only a week... Where it now started.

Rumors heard that a strange yet young assassin appeared around the dead of night...

Causing a massacre with a group of old men who worked for the pub for the abduction of young children...

Hanged the leader of attempted to kidnapped young woman to the auction...

Then leaving strange letters within by using the decease's blood as a potential warning to the next target...

Chaos was happening one thing to another... Even the ruler of the land then realized that the strange assassin had most of the information regarding to the rebellion... Which was the pub was involved with...

Her trail of her deep colored red kept coming from one night to another after a week. Although some were sparred, they were forced to spill about the information about the pub... As if the assassin was enough to them to surrender.

A month then passed... The owner of the pub was now in the brink of the edge. He hoped things would settle for now, especially his attempt of having his fun with her as well. But...

As he reached to the door... Things have turned black.

.

.

.

.

This night was the night... The pure finale.

The owner woke up after regaining his consciousness, but he wasn't in his pub... Somewhere was a hidden dungeon of here the children was locked but...

A rather strange silhouette was somewhat standing there before him... Despite the darkness surrounding himself...

.

.

.

There 'she' stood before him....

...the rumored assassin. Red Lily.

"Y-You..!"

"...."

"....you..! Do have any idea of how much trouble you have caused!?"

"...."

"You ruined my plans!! You murdered my men!! I swear to her majesty..!! The rebellion will succeed and your head alongside with your identity will be all revealed to the public!! I swear to-"

"...are you done now?"

That voice......

His thoughts and voice were immediately stopped, that voice was someone he wasn't familiar with... But it was a woman's voice, but it wasn't the only thing he was prepared...

Because the assassin removed her blindfold...

His heart was then stopped, a familiar face was there...

"...so then, have you recognize me fully now?"

"...Y-You... B-But... H-How...... I...."

"I don't know what's there to explain. But surprise, I suppose.."

The owner was stunned, as if something or someone had slapped him to shunned him...

Her... Standing before him defenseless and his wrists bounded... Then that would mean...

".....y-you're... Red.... Lily....?"

"Took you long enough, well I'm surprised that you didn't suspect anyone that you just abducted away at random."

"............it c-couldn't b-be......"

He noticed the difference... He fully noticed the difference...

Red... Her eyes were demonically red...

A disgusted look then appears at her lips.

She was done with him...

"Are your cogs finally working together now? Honestly, her majesty or whatever, I bet the self-living queen is now getting impatient for waiting for her beloved obedient dog to come home..."

"No- NO WAIT-"

"Begging now? We're you expecting for me to beg when we're alone? Honestly, I prefer the reverse... And seeing how things falling down one after another... It's more fully to excite a girl's heart right...?"

"PL-PLEASE..!! ANYTHING AT LEAST..!!"

"......no."

.

.

.

.

It was the last day she appeared, her finale was her last appearance...

The owner? The guillotine is waiting for him.

The rebellion? Anyone there is awaiting to their demise.

Herself? ....

...heading out for elsewhere to reside now...

Till her next chaos appears to her silent heed.

.

.

.

.

"Greetings Milord/Milady. Your schedule is now ready for today."

-------------------------------

A list of anyone who will be her master :3

Saika (@rosietrace)-(Due to her blindness, Chizuko describes her the details and often guides her with her voice, sadly dense towards her affections if so)

Flynn (@fumikomiyasaki)-(Regularly serving him with the same loyalty, though never really noticed his affections to her despite his engagement)

Elphabeth (@terrovaniadorm)-(Surely, the same serving towards him, though sometimes advises him on some choices)

Aster (@rizavi-m)-(She kept her composure whenever he does his sweet-talking to her alone, but nonetheless is also dense to him)

Vladimiras (@the27th)-(Assistant to his work, although she never even asked about him at all but kept it professional and stable)

-------------------------------

Full Clothing:

_________________________________________

Done-

#mc #oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #gacha club #gacha games #gacha mod #chizuko miyato #chizu #sakura's yuusona #idol au #royal au

[smhalltheurlsaretaken]

The mortifying ordeal of revisiting the LotR movies and remembering your gigantic teenage crush on Legolas.

#i still like the dude #but he's objectively one of the least complex and deep characters of the entire saga #still awesome though #but wow 13 yo me was convinced he was the greatest most important thing since tapwater and electricity or some shit #funniest thing is: blond haired dudes aren't even my type #(... also he really looks like a kid) #it's okay baby you're still cool #but aragorn was right there girl seriously #thankfully i never read any romantic fanfics on FF.net #and kept my innocence my sanity and my good taste #12 yo me was already into gen exclusively and it was pretty great of her #the scarring i could have inflicted upon my own psyche... terrifying #legolas #legolas greenleaf #legolas thranduilion #the lord of the rings #lotr #lotr extended edition #tolkien #i'm preparing for a weekend marathon with my bro lol

[p-antomime]

— minors don’t interact.

— wc: 666.

content + warnings: 18+, including: dom!bakugou, blood kink, overstimulation, a bit of primal-prey relationship, a bit of dehumanization (?).

pairings: vampire!katsuki bakugō x fem!reader

my kinktober list!

“I wanna make you hungry then I wanna feed ya, I wanna paint your face like you're my Mona Lisa”

Bodies rising and falling together. In unison. As you continued to sit on his cock, your head getting dizzier and dizzier, it seemed that little by little the rest of your sanity slipped through the edges of your mind and you couldn't feel any better, even though the pleasure was beginning to ache inside you and giving you the feeling that your veins were going to explode.

Bakugou's hands squeezing your waist as if that was the place they had always belonged and were now claiming what was rightfully theirs. His dick burrowing deep into your tight walls; him not knowing how you could stay so tight even after fucking you about.... three...? times in a row? He even had a ring of white fluid around his cock that was the result of all the times he filled your womb to the brim that night.

It never felt so good to feel lewd.

Bakugou slid his lips down your neck and with a short, sly purr, you knew he was tempted to bite you the way he almost always did. And, in reality, you wanted to make him hungry only to feed him later, for to Katsuki you were many things, among them: a meal always fresh and ready to eat, his rag doll that would always serve to be filled with shit, his princess that was treated like a queen since Bakugou loved to spoil you with gifts expensive enough to buy more than you actually needed in this life and the next too.

His eyes sought yours for a silent question as to whether he could proceed with what he wanted to do and with a nod and a string of your voice saying "yes, please", his white fangs sank into the curve of your neck that connected it to your shoulder. A momentary feeling of euphoria invaded your body completely and suddenly, without any kind of warning, you ended up surrendering to yet another orgasm.

Breathing as fast as was humanly possible at the moment, eyes rolling back, hips trying at the same time to force themselves upwards in search of more of that intoxicating pleasure, waist, on the contrary, trying to move your body away from Bakugou's wanting to keep the pain away from the sensitivity of your pussy, mouth unable to reproduce anything other than moans and disconnected and suffocating words, nails digging themselves into the naked back of your favorite vampire. And now think of the scene with trickles of blood escaping through the delicate, tiny holes made by his fangs in your neck, trickling down your breasts and staining your abdomen little by little with droplets inevitably splashing onto your thighs.

If a Baroque painter were to see that depraved scene, free of innocence in any possible state, he would surely think it worthy of being present in museums, like the Mona Lisa.

Your head fell forward and rested against Bakugou's shoulder as soon as their lips withdrew from your neck, but there wasn't much time to regain all senses completely, as his hips kept bumping against yours and one of his hands took hold of your chin to pull you into a deep kiss. The taste of iron from your own blood still stained your lover's beautiful lips, and after so long recreating that same scene, you inevitably got used to the taste.

— P-Please, Katsuki... fill me up one more time... j-just one more, argh, I need it... — Bakugou stared at you for a few seconds before changing position so that you were now lying with your back against the comfortable, soft mattress of the bed you two shared.

— As you wish, my pretty, perfect girl. — Bakugou replied, leaving kisses on the lace of your breasts and licking the rest of the drops of blood that had wet that part of your beautiful body.

#bnha #mha #bnha bakugou #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugou #bakugou smut #kiki kinktober #kinktober #bnha smut #mha smut #tw.blood kink #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugou x reader

[oneoftheextras]

Day 27 | Jean Kirstein | Kinktober 2021

kinktober 2021 masterlist

27th October - Somnophilla

paring: jean kirstein x f!reader

summary: you pass out at jean’s party, but he takes care of you a little too well

words: 1.3k

warnings: no spoilers for any season, 18+, smut, non-con, alcohol, somnophilla (duh), modern au, oral (f recieving)

← day 26 | brat taming | toshinori yagi         day 28 | hands | megumi fushiguro→

He knew this was wrong, he could feel the pang of guilt pulling at his heartstrings but he had held on for as long as he could.

Jean thought he was a good man, a good friend with a good moral compass but that all went out the window when it came to you.

You were his weakness and almost everyone but you knew it.

When you’d turned up to the party dressed as a slutty nurse he had to put a hand in his pocket to rearrange himself. It was like you knew exactly what you were doing but feigned innocence. 

Dressing as a demon was the perfect juxtaposition for you.

The only downside was that you arrived with Reiner, your so called ‘best friend’ that definitely had a thing for you. Even if you were oblivious, Jean noticed how Reiner would look down your top at any moment you weren’t paying attention.

It made Jean’s blood boil when he saw the larger man place a hand on your hip and you laugh into his side, a drink already in your hand - that should’ve been him next to you not Braun.

He knew you were a lightweight, that’s why he kept handing you a drink the moment your cup was empty. Reiner had finally left your side to go and play beer pong with Bertoldt and Jean saw that as his opportunity to give you shots.

Never one to turn down a drink that was so thoughtfully poured for you, you tipped back every shot of tequila Jean gave you.

Soon enough, Reiner returned giving Jean a cold stare from how your drunken form had shuffled closer to him. 

Best friend my ass!

Jean took the hint and made himself scarce, he’d mingle and drink with some of his friends and wait for the right time.

When he overheard Reiner grumbling to Porco about how much of mess you were, he knew that was his queue.

What he didn’t expect was to find you completely unconscious on his couch with a few people sat around you making feeble attempts at waking you up. The fact that Reiner up and left you when you passed out on him did nothing to quell the burning hatred he had for the man.

“Hey, is she okay?” he asked Ymir who was watching Historia gently pat your face, “Drank too much,” Ymir shrugged as she sipped her own drink.

“Let me,” Jean tapped Historia and signalled for her to get out of the way and let him pick you up, “Where are you taking her?” Historia asked, face full of concern, “I’ve got some spare rooms upstairs, it’s better than her lying down here,” he carefully rested your head on his chest and stood upright, ready to take you upstairs.

“Make sure she doesn’t lay on her back!” Historia called after him as Jean carried you away from the rest of the party. Having the annual Halloween Bash at his house had turned out in his favour.

He only wanted to be alone with you, that was his intentions originally. He laid you down on the bed and took in your peaceful features, the way your chest rose and fell softly, he couldn’t help himself.

The costume you were wearing was fairly skimpy anyway, but the tiny skirt you were wearing was ruffled upwards around your hips - it wasn’t his doing, that’s just how it fell when he laid you down.

What would one little peek do? As long as he was quick, no one would know but he could keep the image locked away in his mind until you were finally his. He was sure you would be together eventually anyway so what was the harm in seeing something you were going to show him anyway?

A glance towards the door to ensure it was shut tight was the last part of his sanity left, he wasted no time pushing your panties to the side so he could see you in all your glory, his lips watered at the sight.

One taste wouldn’t hurt, right? He lowered his head to your folds and run his tongue across your lips. The moment your flavour landed on his taste buds he knew he was doomed; it was as though he’d had a sample and now needed the whole meal.

His tongue went faster and deeper, feeling the way you fluttered around him in your sleepy state, he wondered what you would feel like around his cock if you gave him the chance.

Just as he was pushing that thought out of his head a moan crawled its way out of your throat and between your lips. 

Jean removed his tongue from you and froze, staring at your sleeping face with your wetness coating his lips and chin, you hadn’t woken up but his dick had.

He’d gone this far, surely there was no turning back for him now. He needed to feel you around him, do what Reiner was so desperately trying to do before you gave the blonde a chance.

Before he knew what he was doing he was pushing his rock hard length into your hole slowly, he didn’t want to wake you up when you looked so beautiful while you were asleep after all.

Small whimpers left you as he bottomed out with a quiet groan, you had to stop making those sounds or he wouldn’t be able to control himself, it took everything in him not to pound you into the mattress, but he knew there would be another time when you would let him do exactly that.

He pulled himself almost all the way out, letting the ridges of his cock drag against your soft walls, he couldn’t hold it for long before he was pushing back in again.

His jaw was clenched tightly and his fingers curled into the covers of the bed, he wanted to hold onto your thighs but he knew that he’d leave bruises if he did and that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of him.

“Oh fuck!” he sighed as he attempted to pick his pace up. Unconsciously, you’d gotten extremely wet, your body betraying you and taking Jean’s side in this act, but it meant that he could slide in and out of you fairly easily without disturbing you too much.

He just had to control his force, he wanted to slam his hips against yours and make you feel like he was splitting you in half but he settled for gently tapping his pubic bone against yours and hearing a muffled whine come from you.

He loved the fact he was making you feel good, even if you didn’t know it, he hoped you would wake up feeling satisfied. If psychology was on his side, then you’d associate that satisfied feeling with him when you woke up in his house the next morning.

You started to tighten around him and his legs started to shake, he stared down at where the two of you were joined and watched himself disappear inside of you, he was close but he couldn’t cum in you that would be too obvious.

He also didn’t want you to cum too hard either in case it woke you up, so he maintained his pace until he felt your walls spasm around him and his pubic hair get significantly damper.

He held on until the very last second, pulling out and cumming over your exposed thigh. It wasn’t exactly what he wanted but it would have to do for now.

Reaching for the box of tissues across the room, he hurriedly cleaned you up as best he could and replaced your underwear - turning you onto your side and propping a pillow against your back so you couldn’t roll over and choke yourself.

The next morning you woke up with a hangover and a strange sensation in your core. Jean offered to make you breakfast while he handed you some painkillers and a glass of water - you couldn’t help your lingering stare on his face as he cooked breakfast.

@mylife-demonstrates-murphys-law @hereticpriest @enagmaticether @anxiousgoddest @kodzu-ken @moonnei @diesinspanishbcimhispanic  @fvckmeupyoonz @homosexualjohnwayne @notplutos @moth-baybee @answer-the-sirens @ochakoakabane

#jean kirstein #jean aot #aot fanfic #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2021

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

headspace, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You try so hard, so very hard to not let Jeon Jungkook have the effect he has on you. You have things to do. But you’re always in his arms again, because you can’t stop thinking about him and he knows it.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; smut (fem reader, fingering, lil bit of spanking, doggy, hair-pulling, cock warming); PWP; softdom!Jungkook

this post, basically + I found a mysterious hickey on my neck and idk where it came from and it stayed there for days  at first i wasn’t going to post this, but who knows, maybe you all want to know what happens in my head when JK is out here looking that good. maybe this is what you’re thinking too, lmao

--

"Ah, Jungkook, w-wait!"

Already all up in your face, pressing you against the wall, grabbing your thighs and sinking his fingers into them, lifting you up, up.

"Wait for what?" was Jeon Jungkook's hot whisper into your neck. "What am I waiting for, after you look at me like that?"

"I... I didn't..."

"You did."

He planted your legs around his waist, forcing you to grab his shoulders so you wouldn't fall, gripping the black linen fabric, his dangling silver earrings brushing against your silver rings, knuckles, and the backs of your hands. He reached up and pushed your head down to make you stare into his dark brown eyes. 

"You looked at them all with a smile, but your eyes lingered on me."

Fuck, his eyes were so pretty. 

The fucking shape, so fucking sexy with the way the upper lid curved downward a little in the inner corner, fanning out to that roundness, then his lashes flaring upwards at the end. Paired with that intense gaze and it was a deadly combination. 

"Lie to my face. Try it."

His voice was deep but gentle, pinning you between the wall and himself, hardness surrounding your softness. You gazed straight into those dangerous eyes. 

"You're going to keep trying, aren't you?"

His pink lips curved into a smirk. "Yes."

His hands went back down, sliding under your red velvet skirt, squeezing your bare thighs. Drumming upwards slowly, sinking his fingers into your ass.

"I told you to stop annoying me."

He kneaded your ass slowly. "You did. And yet I still have the key. You haven't changed the locks to keep me out," he purred, leaning in, pressing his hard chest on yours. Even through the cropped white sweatshirt and his black linen shirt you could feel him, feel his strength and his power over you. "Shall I just stay here from now on? Since you so obviously want me here."

"J-Jungkook..."

Eyes on yours, eyebrow cocked. 

"Go ahead and say it. Tell me to get out. Tell me you don't want me," he breathed onto your chin, nails digging into your ass. "Tell me your lies."

"Shut up."

You tilted your head and pressed your lips to his, one hand sliding up to hold his head in place as you kissed him hard, his smirk into your kiss. For such a taunting mouth, he had a lovely kiss, capturing your lips gently, tongue flitting between them. You were sliding down the wall and Jungkook shoved you back up, stepping closer to the wall to sandwich you harder into it, breaking the kiss. 

"I have things to do..." you murmured, pushing his long hair back and tucking it behind his ear. Jungkook continued smirking at you, amused by your verbal monologue. "I'm busy, I'm tired, there are people waiting on me..." His dark eyes sparkled with danger. "And you always make me want you instead."

One of his eyebrows quirked. "What a terrible predicament."

You narrowed your eyes. "You're so troublesome."

He smiled, and despite your frustrations, it was a genuine one. It was hard to stay mad at Jungkook. 

"I know."

He kissed you this time, making you tingle all over, moaning softly as his tongue played with yours. With a chuckle, he picked you up and leaned you against him, forcing you to clamp your thighs around his waist and your arms to wrap around his neck as he carried you, far too easily for your liking. Jungkook was a strong man. In too many ways, honestly. 

"We can just play for a little while," Jungkook purred. "You love playing with me, don't you?"

"Too much, I think..."

He turned and sat on the bed, adjusting your knees to be on either side of him, kissing down your neck, fingertips sliding under your panties.

"Someone is going to think I'm obsessed with you," you puffed, slight irritation in your tone as he pulled up, shoving your panties in between your ass.

"You aren't?" he teased. 

"You want me to be," you retorted. Jungkook was squeezing your ass, spreading it out, digging his fingers into it. 

"Yes, I do." He licked up your neck and you shivered. His lips kept going up, chaste kisses compared to the manhandling of your ass. Your hair fluffed as he breathed into your ear. "Want this pretty head to be full of thoughts of me." His deft fingers slipped under, stroking the slick wetness. "We always have such fun when you give in to me, don't we?"

Fuck, why did he have to have such a beautiful voice, so rich and so much depth, taking you away to his world?

"And you always, always give in to me."

Two fingers into your pussy, sinking into wet warmth, your eyelids fluttering, arms wrapping around his head, fingers tangling in his black locks, gasping as he thrust them in and out of you, whispering your name hotly in your ear, licking it lightly every time he buried himself all the way to his knuckles. 

"P-Please, Jungkook... let me breathe a l-little..."

His head dipped down and you buried your nose into his hair, smelling the sweet scent of product he used, dark stands curled around your fingers and silver rings, pleasure swirling up from your core. He was so good. So fucking good and he probably didn't even know exactly how good he was. 

"Just breathe me," Jungkook said to your neck, nipping at the space between your collarbones, leaving small red marks. "I'll be your oxygen. I'll be anything you want, everything you want, make you love me more and more until there's no one else but me."

And then his teeth sank down, biting your neck possessively, to the right and above your collarbone, your head falling back to give him more space, increasing his pace in your pussy so that the wet smacking sounds became louder to match your cries. Deep, hard, rough, just the way you liked it, and one glance down found Jungkook's dark eyes boring into you, chocolatey and heavenly, stubbornly telling you that he wasn't going to give up.

"Jungkook," you hissed. "You're making me crazy."

His pink tongue licked against his bite as he grinned. 

You sucked in a breath and pushed his face into your chest, biting your lip to muffle your whine as you came, muscles tensing around his fingers, massaging them roughly as your juices soaked down. Did your skin run hot due to embarrassment or was it just the layers of clothes? Either way, you felt him chuckle as he pulled his fingers out, your panties snapping against your drenched slit uncomfortably. His other hand cupped around your head, tilting it to the side. Your cheek rested on his hair. His glistening fingers in your view, spreading out with strings of your juices in between his joints. 

Yup, it was embarrassment. 

Jungkook put his fingers in his mouth and you didn't look, cheeks burning hot. He nuzzled your neck, lapping at his mark on you. 

"Hm. People are going to see that one," he purred. "That's good."

"People at work are going to think I'm unprofessional," you mumbled.

"Take off your clothes then. I'll mark you in other places."

I'm already marked all over by you, you thought to yourself. You twirled your fingers around the black strip of fabric around his neck, undoing the tie and slipping it down, watching the scarf trail around the curve, a shape you stared at far too much and his mischievous smirk wasn't helping. 

"You going to use this on me?" Without knowing it, your voice had become smokey and hazy, matching his playfulness. "Is that why you wore it?"

His large hand closed around yours, finger by finger, still a little damp from his mouth and your juices. Smirking with that flirtatious spark in his eye, maybe innocent at one point but certainly not now because he invaded your head and did it on purpose, caressing your knuckles as he spoke. 

"You know I can be anything for you," Jungkook drawled, eyebrow arching gracefully. "In this space, I'm all yours." He pulled the tie out of your fingers slowly, centimeter by centimeter of black linen slipping from your fingers, followed by your sanity with his silvery voice. "If it's what you want, I'll do it."

Every time. 

Every fucking time. 

And how could you be mad at those eyes, those lips, that face, inviting you to worship him and love him?

You swore there was a time before Jeon Jungkook, but now you couldn't remember and he wasn't letting you remember, pulling you to the center of the bed, taking off your white sweatshirt, yanking down your red velvet skirt, letting you tug at the buttons of his black shirt, pushing it down his shoulders, kissing the exposed skin, his taste flooding your mouth. His hands on your back, digging his nails in, raking down, pleased by the way you shuddered against him, unhooking your bra as you unzipped his slacks. It just wasn't fair, not fair at all how handsome and cute Jungkook was, how hard his muscle was and how soft his touch was, the way he balanced his fingertips on your chin and tipped it up, kissing you again, your name in his lips, melting your ice with his fire, gasping softly as your fingers skimmed his ass and thighs, drawing patterns in his skin. 

"I love your kisses," he panted. "They're a perfect combination. Erotic and needy and demanding."

Closer, his hands sliding down, the lightest pressure, guiding you down onto the pillows, the scarf still wrapped around his right hand. 

"And the sounds you make." Dropping his head, kissing the curve of your breasts, nudging your silver necklaces away, biting at times, making you moan and bury your fingers in that soft hair once more, black against your silver rings. "Want you to make them over and over again for me, only me..."

His lips around your nipple, tongue so soft but sucking so hard, your back arcing and his eyes on his bites, knowing they'd be there for a while, and yet you could tell he still wanted to do more, wanted his permanent mark on you. 

"Jungkook..."

His piercing gaze on you as he detached his lips, switching sides, listening but not stopping. Wrapping his tongue around the hardened nub, sending shocks of pleasure through your nerves, long hair messy and tangled from your fingers. You chewed on your lip, curling your fingers into his scalp, not trying to hurt him but unable to contain the apprehension within you. His lips parted seeing your expression, brushing against your nipple as he spoke. 

"Don't look so guilty."

Hands on your hips, pulling you down to his face, the scent of your own nipples heavy in his breath as he laid kisses on your cheeks. 

"I don't look this nice just for me, you know. You have to appreciate me." 

Imprinting his touch all over you, nails scratching up your skin, fingerprints from his grip, nipping at your swollen lips. 

"I'll help you feel good. I promise."

All I can think about is you. You're the worst, Jungkook. 

You took the black scarf from him, unwrapping it from his hand. Backed up, feeling his eyes on you, nearly black with lust, watching you collect your hair back and twist the strip around and around, his smirk growing with every second as you tied it off. 

"Convenient."

Jungkook knew what you wanted, grabbing you by the hips and flipping you around, making you scramble and gasp at his forcefulness, your silver necklaces hitting you in the chest. On hands and knees now, your favorite, his hand splayed across your back and pressing your shoulder blades down, other hand clutching your panties and yanking, moaning as he watched your juices drip down, snapping against your thighs. 

"That's a pretty pussy," he breathed, leaning in. You whimpered as his fingers slid in once again, three this time, fuck, almost too many, stretching you out. You clenched around them, making Jungkook moan. "Mmm, fuck yes, so fucking tight, my cock is going to feel so good inside you…"

He found what he was looking for and nudged your hand with it, the sharp edges of the foil pocket tapping against your rings. 

"Reach back for me. Get me hard for you."

"But I haven’t taken off my–"

"Shh, I still have my underwear on, go ahead."

You bit your lip and extended your hand back awkwardly, careful with your rings, palming his semi-hard cock through his boxer briefs as he shoved his fingers into you repeatedly, straightening his back to watch. 

"Yes, that's it," Jungkook groaned, putting more force into it, earning the moans he was waiting for, your muscles tensing around his fingers, obscene, sloppy smacks of your viscous juices tainting the room. "Love watching your ass bounce, so fucking sexy..."

He liked watching you struggle too, hand grasping his cock and rubbing the wet spot around the head, jerked around by his fingers, mouth open and unable to catch your breath, his name a dry rasp between curses.

"Jungkook, a-ah... please..."

So hard, throbbing under your fingertips, straining for release. 

"Want it... please... w-want your cock to ruin me..."

You heard him chuckle, sliding his fingers out and striking your clit. You yelped sharply, turning into breathless cries as he rubbed your clit with his slick fingers, calluses adding to the friction. 

"How can I say no to that?" he drawled. "You want to make me feel good too, hm?"

"Y-Yes, ah, fuck, Jungkook, please..."

You dropped your hand, clutching the sheets, screaming into them, pleasure overtaking you with a sharp throb, hips shaking with effort as your orgasm crashed down, rolling your hips into his touch. Dragged out, eyes rolling back, moan trickling from your lips as he pressed his fingers into your engorged clit, feeling it pulse violently as you rode your high. 

"So fucking hot," he breathed. "You want me that bad?"

There was no point in lying now.

"Fuck, yes I do, fuck."

Jungkook snickered, flicking his fingers against your sensitive opening before removing it. You flinched, hearing the sound of the condom being torn open. Your name fell from his lips, teasing, warm, too much familiarity.

"What?"

One hand on your hip, the other smacking your ass. You sucked in a breath, bracing yourself. 

"You have a pretty back."

"Oh… Thanks?"

And then a high-pitched moan tore through you as he suddenly filled you up with one quick thrust, tensing every muscle in your body, Jungkook groaning with effort, knowing you would tell him to stop if it was too much, but you weren’t telling him because, even if you were tight, you were also so wet that he entered with minimal effort. It was easy for him, slipping in all the way to the base, his crotch slapping into your ass. Too easy. Fuck, you liked him too fucking much.

“Such a tiny little pussy,” he purred, squeezing your flesh, inhaling sharply as you fitted around him. “You need a cock to stretch you out, don’t you?”

You wiggled your ass into his hips. “Jungkook…”

“Hand, please.”

You whimpered and presented your right hand. His fingers curled around your forearm, gripping tight.

“Hold on now.”

His left hand dug into your hip as he began to fuck you, hard, satisfying, penetrating thrusts of pure power that made you cry out, slamming your left hand into the headboard, pushing back to hold yourself in place and prevent your body from sliding up because he was fucking you so hard, and it was so good, so perfect, your wetness squelching around him, the feeling of suddenly being almost empty then full, empty then full, power and pleasure. Why did he feel so good? Why did it feel so good, uncontrollable moans and pants of his name as he took you from behind?

“You’re holding me so well, fuck, so nice and tight for me,” Jungkook hissed, hand leaving your hip and you knew what was coming, your hips moving of their own accord, meeting his rough thrusts as his left hand grasped your ponytail, wrapping it around his palm, tugging slightly, forcing your head to lift, your silver necklaces jangling against your breasts, whimpering almost pathetically, but it was so good, so good, the little jolts of pain and his cock pounding you and you meeting him, core tightening at his insistent gentle yanks.

“Fuck, so sexy,” he muttered. “Such soft hair, pretty wrists, plump ass fucking me back, aren’t you just the perfect little plaything for me?” His words seeping into you, smokey and hazy with lust, the depth taking you under, drowning in your orgasm as the pleasure rocked through you, and he didn’t stop, simply fucking you through it with a hiss, your name an immoral drawl, paired with the lewd squelching of how fucking wet you were for Jeon Jungkook. “How can I go anywhere else when this pussy needs me so bad, hm? When you demand to be fucked and wrecked by this cock?”

“Jungkook, ah, fuck!”

“That’s it, keep cumming for me, cum all over my cock, fuck, feels so fucking good when you clench like that.”

You were going to lose your fucking mind, with his hand on your hair and his other dropping your forearm, grabbing your hip once again so he could fuck you harder, deeper, the bed shaking with the force. You tried to bury your face into the pillows, but couldn’t because of his grip on your hair, so you just wailed out his name, probably far too loud, tightening all around his entire length, oh fuck, tipping over the edge once more, so wet you could feel it trickling down your clit and thighs, the violent smacking of flesh to flesh causing thick drops to hit your sheets.

Everything smelled like sex. Everything was sex.

And there was nothing in your head but Jeon Jungkook’s cock ruining you.

“Fuck, Jungkook, fuck me, you’re so fucking good!”

You heard Jungkook moan your name, ramming his hips into you one last time as he came, cock jerking as he filled the condom with strings of cum. His grip on your ponytail tensed and he yanked your head up, forcing you to arch your back and rut your ass into him, elongating the pleasure.

“A-ah, Jungkook…”

“Shh…”

Your hands poised under you, your necklaces stuck to your chest, trapped in the uncomfortable position, squeezing him periodically. He groaned at the sensation, pressed against your ass.

“Feels so fucking good,” he murmured. “You still gonna act like you don’t want me?”

Your cheeks flared with heat. He released your hair and reached around, cupping your chin, pushing you to him as he met you halfway, his lips against your ear. You could feel the warmth radiating off his face, beads of sweat brushing against your ear and neck. Breath so hot it was making your pulse race. He was slipping out a little, but your pussy tightened around him. He snickered right into your ear. You shivered, a low moan leaving your throat.

“… Don’t…”

His tongue slid out and traced your earlobe. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t… do this to me…”

Lips right on your hot, hot skin, on fire for Jeon Jungkook, his whisper always in your thoughts.

“Have to. You still want me, don’t you?”

Fuck.

“… Yeah.”

--

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook smut

[sweetcathedral]

Note: Finally back from my break! Lots of things keep happening in my life that I’ve never expected, so I’m busier than usual, but I have queued up some quick stories for the next few weeks. Although this was inspired by the Are You Am I dresses, it’s more centred around Catholicism that I have a love-hate relationship with. Enjoy!

⚠️: 18+, fem! reader, altar sex, raw, church sex, overstimulation, creampie/breeding

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.

“The hell are you wearing?” Sukuna arched his brow in a grimace expression.

You looked down at your outfit, not seeing what could be wrong with it. It’s your first time wearing something like this; a silk dress with dainty straps and a raw hemming that looks like it’s about to come undone & sheer opaque black stockings. “I don’t see anything wrong with it, does it look bad?” Sukuna strides towards you, analyzing your outfit, even lifting the hem of your dress as if he doesn’t know what’s already there.

“I will never understand the evolution of clothing in this era,” he cocks his head to the side with a placid look in his eyes. Ah, right. He died a long time ago.

“What did people used to wear in your time?”

“Fabrics that actually clothed them,” he tugs at your stockings and wiggles his finger in them, still trying to wrap his head around its function.

“Hey, stop that, it tickles and it feels weird,” you giggled, pushing his hand away.

“I don’t see any point in wearing it. I could rip this off right now.”

“Sukuna, no! This is expensive!” you bicker at him, clinging on to your dress as he tugs at it like a child does when they want their mom’s attention.

“Just ask Gojo to buy you a new one when we’re finished.”

“Finished?” the sound of threads shredding apart startles you.

You scan yourself like a puppy chasing its tail to see if he’d actually ripped your dress apart. Nothing, but something felt off—looking down at your stockings, you see that there was a large slit running down your leg, exposing your thigh.

"Heh, whoops," he flicks the small shred of fabric off his nails, walking you into a corner. The shadow of the room contrasts his face making his eyes glow a deeper crimson. "Don’t look away from me," grabbing your face, his nails dig into your skin as you try to fight off his grip. Lifting you against the wall, he softly drags his nails along your exposed thighs, teasingly drawing circular patterns the higher up he goes.

"Sukuna," you pleaded softly, his hand now on your neck, lifting you ´til you were on your tippy toes & trying to balance yourself so that you wouldn’t fall into complete suffocation.

"Shh, someone might hear you," he whispers in a low octave. You forgot you weren’t in a closed off area. The two of you were originally sent to an abandoned church to investigate a curse user of the Roman Catholic religion, that is until Sukuna took over Yuji’s body.

Your body jolts at Sukuna brushing his knuckles over your clit. The heat of you traces over the length of his finger through the thin fabric of your panties, stifling a moan. "Don’t be shy. It won’t be your first time sinning in front of a God," he cooed in your ears. He told you to be quiet, but he really just wanted to see you hold yourself back as he evokes your temptations & diminishes your composure. He loves seeing you corrupted, especially when it’s in a respectable church built to honour a God who guides herds of blinded sheep.

Only shame & humiliation wash over you as you avert your gaze from looking at the smaller crucifix hanging over the doorway the two of you came from. He turns to look in the same direction you did, a sly grin stretches from ear to ear. “I have a better idea,” his eyes narrow in defiance as he turns to look at the God overseeing the center aisle.

“I don’t think we should be doing this.”

“Cut the act. You’d be fighting me, if you really opposed it,” Sukuna scoffs, admiring the view of your legs spread open—laid on top of the altar. Your ripped stockings, now webs of black thread, running across your thigh, like it’s still trying to keep him from tainting the last bit of innocence you had left. Beams of light fell from the skylight of the church, casting a soft glow on the God that was once loved, but now abandoned and left to be eaten by what he created.

You released a deep exhale at the feeling of something soft and wet trailing over your inner thighs—Sukuna. The warm feeling eases the tension all over your body and you can feel the heat of your blood pumping in your ears, his face getting closer and closer to where you want him the most. “Maybe we should find a more private setting,” you try convincing him.

“Now why would I want that? Just look at how wet you are down here,” he bites on your panties and pulls them off, revealing a dripping mess. It was embarrassing, immoral, but there was something about how good it feels to be doing something so wrong. The thrill of it sends a rush of adrenaline through your veins, your heart beating against your ribcage. More. “Tell me what you want.”

Everything, but even that thought wasn’t enough. “I want you . . . to take me to hell,” you whisper to him.

Taken aback by the words that just came out of your mouth, he brings himself back with that same sly grin and a soft look in his eyes. “It’ll be my pleasure.”

From one moment to the next, Sukuna drove your sanity out from you until you could think of nothing, but only him. The bold movement of his tongue reaching in to taste you, his fingers teasing around your clit and fondling your breasts, his lips pressing on every part of your skin, leaving wet splotches that are deep enough in colour to bloom into an aching bruise afterwards.

“Sukuna,” you lift the hem of your dress over as you fold your legs to your chest—revealing your painfully aching cunt, glistening with desire. The syllables of his name roll off the tip of your tongue like nectar. “More.”

“You don’t need to tell me,” he pulls your hips towards him, enough for your cunt to be pressing against the thick bulge fighting the strain of his black jeans. The altar creaked, as if in disappointment, at the sudden weight change.

Mesmerized by the sight of you laid on the altar like an offering, he takes his time to soak in the image, burning it into his mind; the burnished oak altar with the scene of the last supper carved beneath it, a warm glow cascading from the skylight of the church and the large crucified God, looking down at the lustful act unfolding in his house of worship. But then the feeling of your hips impatiently bucking at him interrupts his thoughts. “You know, they say patience is a virtue,” pleased at your eagerness.

“Fuck the virtues.”

“What a bold thing to say in a church,” he softly chuckles, the sound of his zipper perking your ears.

You reach for his belt, but he laces his fingers into yours, pressing your hand down. The tip of him brushes against your soft folds, lubricating itself with your juices. Without a struggle, his cock unfolds you, pushing a welcoming entrance open between your legs. Your walls flutter in excitement, pulling him in, as the creaking floors of the church groaned in disapproval.

“Oh, God,” you gripped at the altar cloth.

“You should moan louder for the angels to hear,” he thrusted into you harder than when he entered, the sound of skin slapping bounces off the walls. “Fuck.”

All righteous thoughts were purged out of you, like a soul being cleansed anew at adoration. Demon. It wasn’t your first time with him and it definitely won’t be your last. You can feel your body getting desperate to finish as you began to buck your hips faster.

“Closer,” you held your breath, arching your back.

The sound of his name falling off your lips sends a painful feeling of the need of wanting more. He wanted to strip away your senses to see a side of you that no one else has ever seen, the first to discover you and explore whatever you hid away from plain sight. That is what drove the King of Curses, Father of All Sins, to greed.

Echoes of your panting and moaning became a choir of sultry tones, replacing the familiar sounds of organs and bells in the church. Even though your legs were trembling from reaching your limits, he kept on going, ignoring your pleas and begging.

“Not yet,” he grunts in your ear.

“Please . . . I can’t take it anymore.”

Tears stream down your face as you grip onto Sukuna’s arms. The feeling in your legs were no longer there and you were having a hard time controlling your tremors. Just when you thought you couldn’t reach another climax, your cunt began pulsating rapidly as your body uncontrollably tensed up again.

When Sukuna pulled out, a waterfall of cum spilled out of you and pooled onto the altar cloth, dripping down the carving of the Last Supper. The two of you pant in exhaustion, he’s laying on top of you with his arms wrapped around your head, his hand firmly holding you close to him.

You brush your fingers through his hair, reciprocating the same affection back. “Tell me you’re finished for today,” you giggled.

“I wanna say ‘no’, but that’d mean you’d be knocking on Shoko’s door again.”

Both of you laughed as you teasingly tugged at his ear.

“Should we clean—!”

As he helped carry you off the altar, you looked back at the aging oak and crumpled cloth that had been perfectly fine and untainted—now dented with deep inhuman scratch marks surrounding the faint imprint of where you laid.

#minors dni #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk x fem!reader #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x female reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fic

[wheresmybuckyhoes]

Game Night

Summary: Bucky and you are basically enemies. That’s the only word you can think of to describe it. What else would it be?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, drinking, unprotected sex (do not do this irl), smut, slight angst

I really love a good enemies to lovers at the moment and wanted to give it a go. Let me know what you think. As always, enjoy! xx

‘How about truth or dare?’ Wanda suggested innocently, earning her a series of exasperated groans. You threw your head back in playful annoyance, a drawn out ‘Wandaaa’ leaving your vodka - tasting lips. ‘I meant more like monopoly, or something a group of horny teenagers wouldn’t play’ Tony sighed, throwing back the last of his whiskey, followed immediately by ‘Steve it would mean so much to me if you would get me another bottle of this’.

Meanwhile, you noticed the one and only piece of shit Bucky narrow his icy blue eyes at you from across the table you were all crowded around. You mimicked his expression before turning towards Wanda as you rolled your eyes. You could practically feel his eyes delving deep holes through your back. ‘I say we play. I’ve had at least...’ at this point you held up your hands in front of your face as you counted on your fingers like a dumb child, Wanda raising her eyebrow. ‘...like at least, enough shots to be drunk so I won’t remember this anyway’ you shrugged as you reached for the bottle of vodka only for Sam to pull it just out of your reach. ‘Sam...’ you tried to bargain but Tony’s loud voice cut you off as he spoke, cradling his 4th glass of whiskey delivered so gracefully unto him by a frowning Steve. 

‘As the leader of this group of fucks, I decree that I go first. Capsicle, truth or dare’ he asked pointedly, gesturing to Steve with his glass. ‘You guys are so immature...truth, if I must’ he replied gloomily, taking a tender sip of his orange juice. ‘Are you a virgin?’ he simply asked, earning an uncontrollable giggle from you and Wanda. Before Steve even opened his mouth, Tony added quickly with a smirk ‘a virgin is someone who has never fucked anyone, by the way. Oh, and fucking is what you want to do to y/n. I know you don’t always know all the current lingo, old man, but...’ Steve answered quickly before Tony could continue embarrassing him, and you choked on the wine that had magically appeared in your hand. ‘No, Tony. I’m not, and I’m going to bed’. Steve got up and straightened his shirt, placing his glass gently on an Avengers branded coaster, heading out for the night to his floor of the compound. You didn’t notice the slight frown which flickered over Bucky’s face as you kissed Steve on the cheek as you said goodnight. But you also didn’t notice Tony and Sam fighting over the last bottle of whiskey, so who can blame you.

You played a few more rounds of truth or dare as the night grew dark and the others grew tired. After the first few rounds Sam and Tony got up and left, soon followed by Wanda who was drunk beyond words. You hugged her affectionately before helping her to the elevator and going back to sit down. You forgot Bucky was there.

You groaned dramatically as Bucky smirked at you, collapsing dizzily onto the leather couch and tipping the last bit of vodka you had retrieved from Sam’s grasp down your throat. ‘Fuck off, Barnes’ you seethed. ‘Don’t you have some people to kill?’. He chuckled to himself, pushing himself up from the floor to stand up and cross his arms. ‘Don’t you have some validation to seek from literally everyone?’ he taunted, staring your right in the eyes. You looked down. The bitch knew very well you only wanted validation because when you were trained in an abusive institute not so different from hydra, the only thing that kept you alive was their validation, and he knew that he could get under your skin with ease. But you refused to show it. You looked up and found his opal eyes again.

‘It was my turn, wasn’t it? Truth or dare, asshole?’ you asked, chucking the empty bottle of vodka at him. He caught it swiftly with his vibranium arm, walking over to you and leaning down to place the bottle beside you on the couch, face inches away from you. ‘Dare’ he whispered, leaning back and moving to stand in front of you. He smelt like burnt marshmallows, fiery whiskey and rain. You mentally slapped yourself and reminded your brain how much you hated him.

‘I dare you to stop being such a little bitch’ you stood up, staring up at him with flames in your eyes. ‘Maybe if you didn’t act like such a brat all the fucking time, I wouldn’t have to be’ he mocked, tilting his head to await your reaction. The sheer amount of hate your felt for him at this moment, together with the large quantities of alcohol running through your veins, gave you a dangerous confidence boost. ‘Maybe if you weren’t a little pussy who lost his arm and sanity to some weird scientists because he fell off a train, knew how to fuck let alone talk to girls and didn’t make every single person who he meets want to run away and scream, I wouldn’t act like a brat all the fucking time’. Well shit.

You were breathing raggedly, chest rising rapidly up and down, hands balled up in two tight fists by your side. Bucky’s eyes were wide, his mouth slightly open, a flicker off hurt passing over his handsome features. He shook his head and sighed. ‘Shouldn’t have said that, y/n’. ‘What do you mEEEAAN’ you yelped as he moved to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder, as if you were weightless. You kicked him in the chest, hard. ‘Put me down right the fuck now Bucky before I...’ he reached his room and threw you down on his bed, shutting the door behind him. ‘Before you what, hm? Because let me tell you something, darling. I think you don’t hate me. No, you just know I don’t want to sleep with you unlike Steve, Sam and Tony and it hurts. It hurts your precious little ego. But if it stops you from acting like a little bitch all the damn time, I guess I can fuck the bitch out of you’ He climbed onto the bed, as you crawled back, until your back was against the headboard and you were cage in between the wall and the super soldier in front of you. ‘Would you like that, doll?’

You gulped nervously, averting your eyes only for Bucky to grab your chin both roughly and gently at the same time and lift your head up so you were staring him in the eyes. ‘So now you go all quiet on me’ he taunted. You could hardly breath. Your mind was telling you that you hated him with all your heart, but your heart was telling you to get this man’s dick inside of you. Before you could silence the tell - tale beat of your heart, Bucky leant in and kissed you roughly. Your body relaxed into the kiss, and your hands subconsciously flew up to tangle in his chestnut locks. He was actually a really good kisser. You pulled away. You reached a hand out to unbutton his jeans, but Bucky caught your wrist. He chuckled to himself, metal hand gently wrapping around your throat. ‘So now you want me to fuck you? Thought you said I didn’t know how?’ he asked as a small whine escaped your throat, feeling your core burn in desire. You furrowed your brows and frowned at him. He squeezed at your neck. ‘Use your words, doll, or I’ll just leave you here as the pathetic mess you are’ he threatened, eyes clouding with lust and desire.

‘Holy shit Bucky, just fuck me already or fuck off’ you cried out. He didn’t need telling twice. He released your throat, using both hands to undress you in an instant before removing his own shirt and jeans. He hooked a finger in the band of your panties and slid them down your legs, over your heels and onto the floor behind him. He took a moment to gaze longingly at your naked and vulnerable body, muttering an almost inaudible ‘beautiful’. All that was left between your pussy and his dick was the boxers he was wearing. As soon as he took them off, your eyes widened, and you felt your cheeks redden. ‘That’s not going to fit’ you said, a sort of breathless whisper.

Bucky leaned in, kissing you deeply and sliding his tongue into your mouth. You almost screamed when you felt his fingers encircle your clit, moaning into his mouth. ‘I still...fuck...hate you’ you grumbled as you felt his hard on brush against your inner thigh. He rolled his eyes as you did earlier, dipping his head slightly to kiss your neck, expertly sucking on your sweet spot, marking you up with hickies. He slowly inserted a finger, followed shortly by two. They only slightly stretched you out, and you clawed at his back as he moved them faster and faster, curling them slightly to hit your g - spot. ‘B...Bucky, I’m gonn... gonna cum’ you moaned, pulling his head eagerly as you kissed him desperately. Bucky kept up with his rapid pace, bringing you right to the edge. You felt the pleasure build up and up until you were ready to cum, and that is obviously when Bucky decided to pull his fingers away completely. ‘What the FUCK’ you screamed, sitting up in surprise, legs squeezing together from the sudden lack of friction. He covered your mouth to silence your cries, and leaned in real close. ‘If I give you the most mind blowing sex of your life, and I stop treating you like a piece of shit, will you stop acting like a bitch?’ he asked, pushing you back down onto the bed, removing his hand when he was done talking. ‘For fucks sake Barnes, yes. Fucking yes. Now please fuck me’. you whined.

‘It would be my pleasure’. He slammed into your now lubricated pussy, stretching you all the way out. It burned, but at the same time it felt like nothing you had ever felt before. Not a single man you had ever been with had been this big, but you wouldn’t want Bucky to know that.

He moaned in your ear, causing you to clench down hard, and Bucky started to thrust quickly chasing his own orgasm. He continued to circle your clit with his thumb as he slammed into you over and over and over again until he had you chanting his name like a prayer along with a generous string of obscene curses. He lifted your legs onto his shoulders to angle himself so that he was repeatedly hitting your g spot and your orgasm finally hit you like a truck. ‘oh SHit Bucky fucking christ holy fucking shit’ you gasped out as Bucky thrusted deeply into you, cumming deep inside. You felt your legs shake as your eyes rolled into the back of your head in ecstacy, Bucky’s hand finding your mouth to at least try to quiten some of your moans. Although he had stilled inside of you, filling you to the brim, he continued to rub at your clit as he worked you though your orgasm. Your mind was filled with ecstasy and you could see stars. You both came down from your high eventually, Bucky collapsing in a sweaty heap beside you.

He pulled you into his body protectively, feeling his softening dick rest against your back. His arm was secured tightly around your waist, and you felt your heavy eyes shut as his warm breath on your neck comforted you. ‘Still hate me now?’ he asked, kissing the top of your head gently. ‘I’ll consider tolerating you for now. Ask me again tomorrow night’ you giggled sleepily in response. ‘Why tomorrow night?’ Bucky whispered as he also felt his own eyes close, a wave of exaughstion sweeping over his muscular body. ‘After we fuck again, of course, and again the night after that, and the night after that, and every night after that.’

#bucky barnes smut #Bucky Barnes #bucky fic #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #bucky x reader #marvel smut #tony stark #Steve Rogers #wanda maximoff #falc #falcon and winter solider series #white wolf

[junova]

↬ 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 | 𝐫. 𝐝𝐫𝐲𝐬𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐞

abstract — the one where ransom gets a taste of his own medicine, but you happen to be so much sweeter than he’s ever been. 

pairing — ooc!ransom drysdale x fem!reader 

wc — 4.1k+  im so sorry lmao 

warnings — cheating (if u squint its very vague), angst, fluff, slight self deprecation, ransom is kinda nice idk, i want a soft!ransom drysdale now pls, this is also very messy so read at ur own risk!

[m blabs] — howdy howdy! first time ransom fic. woot woot! still kinda finding my voice w writing so i hope you like it! <333 

His mouth set in a hard line as you continued to curl into his chest, the span of your confidence seemed to be wiped away with a nightmare from the past. Part of him was upset you hadn’t told him anything, the blind leading the blind, as you stepped foot into his family event. Seeing the last person you’d ever thought would be there. 

Surely by now, he thought you would trust him but it was more than evident you still didn’t. You persisted on hiding everything from him, anything you were sure might tick him off. 

Well, Ransom wasn’t necessarily known for biting his tongue.  Although, in your presence, he was learning what to say and where to say it. 

It really surprised him. Not one woman had been able to tame him, not since he’d be fucking everyone in sight. His desire was endless and not one single individual would be enough for his fill. 

Then, he found you drunk and sobbing on the concrete, right outside of the bar he was exiting. To this day, he still couldn’t tell you why he stopped for you. He never really paid attention to anyone if it wasn’t to his own benefit. Ultimately, meeting you was, even if he wouldn’t realize it then. 

You flinched from his touch when he patted your shoulder, gently asking if you were alright. If anyone asked him, Ransom would surely deny he felt you pull at the strings of his heart in an instant. 

He just knew. 

Maybe it’s why it took him so long to accept it, to believe in what he felt for you. Definitely not because you did nothing but be the most wonderful human he’d ever met. More had to do with him. 

Ransom dropped you off the first night you met in your small apartment downtown, definitely on the rougher side where he thought his Rolex sporting his wrist may get stolen. 

A cute little thing like you living in a neighborhood like this — didn’t make much sense to him. Then again, it certainly checked out with his privilege why he didn’t. 

Truly, Ransom didn’t realize how fortunate he truly was. Of course being a trust fund brat gave him the ignorance to live in an unmatched state of bliss. 

He still remembers the moment. 

Watching as you fumbled with your keys, finding it more than difficult to open your front door. It was cute, with your tongue poking out between your lips in concentration. Now, he wondered how he’d forgotten why he’d gone to get hammered at the bar in the first place. 

“Here, let me help.” New to Ransom, he offered a giving hand. Grabbing the key from your jittering fingertips before unlocking your door. He tried to hand you back your keys, but you pulled him so close, your chest touching his own. Dragging two rapid hearts through your apartment. 

“You smell like him.” A dopey smile on your face lighting every dark sight of Ransom, not that you’d know it did. “I smell like who?” 

“My ex-boyfriend.” Your hands cupping his cheek, but you were too drunk to realize how Ransom flinched from your touch. 

He didn’t push you away either. 

“But he definitely didn’t look this good.” Defying all laws of his own nature, Ransom let you stay in close proximity to him as you felt him up. Your hand resting on his chest, traveling lower stopping at his stomach. “Definitely didn’t feel this good.” 

He watched as you sighed, your puffy eyes were only slightly swollen and the mascara was still staining your skin with the rest of the makeup you wore. If anyone had asked him, you’d looked like a wreck but he still found you alluring. 

Ransom always liked his women looking more than fucked out, usually from gagging around his cock. Not crying over a broken heart. Nope. He definitely did not like dealing with a woman's sorrow. 

“He never let me touch him though. Guess that should have tipped me off.” You let your hands travel back up, wounding themselves around his neck before they applied more pressure — pulling him into you. 

Ransom found you pretty confident for not even knowing anything more than his first name and the car he drove you in. You were definitely craving attention and maybe he’d be more than happy to oblige but the little voice in his head Dr. Shoal told him to listen to was being a pestering, little bitch. 

What did Ransom want? 

Right now he wanted to drown himself in some sweet ass pussy. He knew you would give yourself easily to him, especially in your drunken state. Clinging onto him like he was a vine. 

The smaller part of him, the better part, knew you were drunk out of your mind. Absolutely plastered, but you had to stand there looking like a goddess. 

He didn’t really know why he was letting you touch him, maybe in hopes the deeper, darker side of him would win like it always did. Ransom knew better, even if he tried to hide it from everyone including himself. 

He liked you. From the very first moment, he knew he’d have to get you. Whether it cost your own sanity or his, Ransom didn’t care. 

It’s why he left you drunk and alone, safely tucked into the comfort of your sheets with his number left in your phone. Even taking the liberty of texting himself from it. 

He could never be too careful. Letting you slip through his fingers was simply not an option. 

Thanks to him, you didn’t forget about him. 

The next morning your memory only held vague images of a handsome stranger helping you home, thankfully he seemed to be nothing more than a doting gentlemen. The first for you to ever come across. 

Until later in the afternoon the following day, Ransom introduced himself and checked up on you, worming his presence into your life. 

Then he kept talking to you everyday, surprising even himself in the matter. Truly, he couldn’t help it. Part of him loved how gently you spoke to him on the phone. No one ever talked to him with such a level of care. 

He always warranted yelling, usually he was the one who stirred the pot. He enjoyed it, and thrived in a chaotic environment. It’s what he grew up in. Ransom was more than comfortable with his own family yelling and cursing him out until the sun came up. He did just the same. 

So, whenever you sweetly asked him how he was, it threw him off guard. 

Not a single soul even cared or bothered to ask him anything. Truth be told, Ransom was a sack of shit treating everyone like they were the gum beneath his shoe. It didn’t matter who talked to him — Ransom was simply more superior in every conceivable way. 

He would succumb to not a single soul. Paving his own way through life, with only the money from his trust fund of course. 

Then the two of you fell into each other and he could pinpoint the exact moment he did. 

The weeks and months blended together. He couldn’t really tell you why he was still lingering around, while he got nothing in return. You did get him off once or twice, but he wasn’t fucking you like he really wanted to. 

Maybe it was the innocence in your eyes pulling his soul into the very little good he still had left within him. Or maybe it was the way your thumb dragged over his cheek when you thought he was in slumber, blissfully unaware of your touch. 

More importantly his favorite thing, the way you let him hold you when the two of you cuddled. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, bouncy cheeks pressed into whatever knit sweater he decided to wear that day. 

It was all the little things, unknowingly making him fall in deep like he never had before. 

Unwelcoming to him, his mother came barreling in one Sunday afternoon, while you slept in his arms. Even as Linda screamed his name, you never jolted, out like a log. Safe in the peace he kept you in. 

Linda looked annoyed, irritated he even had company in the first place but not surprised. What truly shocked her was they both had clothes on.  Not truly believing Ransom was capable of such a sinless interaction. 

He knew what she wanted; he didn’t even have to move from his position to continue a private conversation. Not that it would get him off the couch, and out of your embrace in the first place. 

“I said no. Don’t know why you bothered coming here.” Linda angrily sighed. “You should at least show up.” 

Ransom didn’t notice, but subconsciously continued to run his fingertips up and down your spine. Linda did. She noticed that he didn’t even care she was judging him, but let you remain unbothered sleeping in her son’s embrace. 

“It’s for Walt. You need to be there.” She stepped closer, hoping the increase in her volume would wake you. “I expect you to grace us with your wonderful presence as does the rest of the family.” 

The sarcasm dripped, attempting to coax him out of the four walls he never seemed to leave. Not recently, anyhow. 

“I already told you, I can’t.” Now Ransom was irritated and he really wished she would calm the fuck down. It was one day, one event. There would always be another, that much wasn’t lost on him. “I have plans. Send him my best.” 

Assuming it was the rumbling of his chest when he spoke, you moved jolting yourself in his arms, before remaining still again. His heartbeat continues to soothe you. 

“You have plans? What else could be more important than your family?” The louder Linda’s voice grew the more you stirred, pissing him off. 

He really needed to change his locks. 

Even if he had no intention of going, he needed his mother to leave. Really for your own sake — trying to save you from Linda giving you a cold shoulder followed with a third degree burn. 

“Fine. I’ll go. Can you just leave?” She accepted Ransom’s submission, before looking at your figure. Sound asleep and clinging to her one and only, sinking your claws into him. 

She really didn’t like the way Ransom was looking at you. Linda was positive he would never be able to care about someone other than himself, but here he was, holding you close to his chest. 

Almost like his life depended on it. 

“Who is she to you?” With a raised eyebrow, eyes narrowing to you before meeting back with Ransom’s cerulean blues. 

“I don’t know yet.” Ransom paused looking down at you, so beautiful. Holding a light so pure, so radiant; he hoped no matter how cruel he could be, he’d never act like that towards you. “Maybe someone I don’t deserve, but want to be better for.” 

His rough, calloused fingers drawing mindless patterns on the exposed skin of your waist. He didn’t know what Linda said next or when she left. 

Time seemed to stand still, his confession hitting his chest fiercely. He let himself sit with it for a moment, before you woke up. Enjoying a moment where he didn’t have to deal with anything, he didn’t have to say a word. 

He could just enjoy the moment without eyes judging him or you questioning why his eyes seemed to shine just a bit brighter whenever you were around. 

It was the first of many. Moments where he felt small pieces of himself chipped away into your care. Planes of existences within him no one had ever scratched the surface of. 

Much like right now as you cried into his chest, begging for mercy. 

Because you were afraid. Terrified you had made the worst mistake, an unforgivable one. You lied about your past and to Ransom it felt like more than a betrayal. More accurately he felt a dagger in his heart placed strategically with your murderous hands. 

He’d never felt such empathy and pain at once. Maybe he’d never been empathetic a day in his life at all. 

Until now. 

To make matters worse, he knew his entire family was watching the whole scene from the window. It wasn’t from worry or concern for either one of you. Mainly all of them enjoying pain being inflicted on Ransom. 

Linda of course wallowing in her ego, he could practically see her bask in her own pride. Another thing she’d been right about checked off the list. 

The rest of the family watched the two of you fight with shiteating grins permanently stamped on their face. They’d never seen Ransom care about anyone but you. To watch the relationship he held so close to his heart blow up so publicly, only fueled the fire to Ransom’s rage. 

Except Harlan. 

Even through his hot, beating anger Ransom was trying his best to comfort you. To calm you down even if you had been the one to be caught red handed. Harlan couldn’t believe it, someone Ransom seemed to care about more than himself. 

More than any of his family. Not that Harlan was offended. Well, maybe a little, but more so he was thrilled his grandson finally found someone he had to grow up for. Someone he had to earn, not buy. 

No bribes. No schemes. No games. 

Just you. 

“Hugh, please talk to me.” How could he? It’s not like he had much to say. Maybe he did, he just wasn’t sure how to get the words out without hurting you or himself. 

“I know I lied and I fucked up, but please — we need to talk about it.” Soft hands reaching for his own, but he brushed them off, his hands snaked higher on your waist. “We should have talked about this the moment you met me.” 

Dead silence is all you were met with as he walked the fine line of pushing you away, leaving you behind and pulling you closer than he ever had. 

“You’re right. I should have told you the truth but can you blame me?” He met you with solemn eyes and his own heart beating rapidly. “Yes I can.” Ransom was trying to act cold and distant but the two windows to his soul told a different story. 

“That’s fair.” Even as he was holding you, Ransom still felt like he was a galaxy away. He was withholding himself from you like a turtle retracting into their own protection. A year ago, before he met you, he knew he would have never even recognized it. 

Now, you made it possible for him to be aware of just how much he had changed. He broke old habits of his own just to please you so when you disappointed him, this unreachable high standard he held you to, it shattered his sense of self. 

“Did you still love him?” Ransom questioned you. “I did. At the time, he’s all I ever really knew. I thought that’s what love felt like. The only image of love I had was the one he gave me. So, I ran with him and it crushed me.” 

Ransom had to pretend the words you were speaking didn’t split him into you two. The image of you falling in love with someone else was enough to make him wanna strangle your ex. 

His friend. 

“Then we just got into one really big blow out. Right in the bar in front of all of his friends I had met for the first time that night.” You reached for a chunk of his sweater, clenching the material in your hand, like you were trying to convince yourself to let the words fall from your mouth. 

“He told me how much I’d been irritating him and I couldn’t help but notice every girl he flirted with and touched right in front of me.” You tested the waters, placing both of your hands over his chest, the beat of his heart calming you down. 

“Then I just cracked. It was only one of the many fights we’d been having over the course of the past few months. Everyone single argument pushed me closer to the edge, until the last one actually did.” You sighed, watching as he frowned. 

“I ended things that night, before getting thoroughly plastered and soon enough crying on the cement. Wasted and lonely out of my mind, until I met you.” You moved your hand from his heart, cupping his clean shaven face. 

“You made me realize I never knew what love really meant or felt like.” This piqued Ransom’s interest. 

You said love. 

Could a tragedy bring out the words Ransom craved to hear more than anything in the world? 

Maybe you cared about him, more than anyone ever showed him. But loved him? How could someone be as hateful as him be worthy of someone like you? 

Even if you had broken his heart, he’d done far worse to more people than he could count. He wasn’t really in a place to judge but it didn’t change the fact it still hurt. A lot. 

“Hugh.” You heard him gulp rather loudly. “Yes?” His tone came out as more of a question than a response. 

The silence he gifted you was unsettling at the very least. “You've barely said a word.” He was surprised he didn’t scurry off in his beamer the second he saw the guilt reach your eyes. 

He was surprised he hadn’t let his anger take over and let the rage he felt inside body take it all out on you. 

He was surprised he somehow couldn’t inflict a single hateful word towards you, even as you sat with his heart in your hands. 

In pure bliss of just how much you owned him. 

“I hate it. This fucking corner you’ve back me into. Not to mention for the prying eyes of my entire family to watch the show.” The sharp tone he uses sensoring you. “You used me just to get back at him.” 

“Like I was some pawn in your game and I really even shouldn’t be mad.” He paused, trying to choose his words as carefully as he can. “I’ve done the same thing to so many different women. Used them and threw them out at my earliest inconvenience.” To your surprise, even Ransom’s, a single tear left his eye showing you how much you really meant to him. 

You hated yourself for letting it get to this point. 

“But you? I could never even think about hurting you. I could never live with myself if I treated you like everyone else because you’re so much more than that to me.” The tears continued to roll. The dame Ransom kept shut his entire life, opened because of you and he just wanted to make it stop. 

He would give anything — even you. 

He just wanted to not feel like a piece of shit for once in his life. For a moment, he thought he might have a chance to be something more than the picture he portrayed in everyone’s mind. You showed him maybe it was more complex than it seemed. 

“I just assumed I was that for you.” You sighed in frustration, softly wiping his tears away. “You are, though. You are more than that.” 

“Then how could you be so okay with lying to me?” The crease between his eyebrows only created more of an indention as he felt the anger trying to escape out of him. 

You let the tension get to you first. 

“Because I-I was scared if I told you the truth, you’d never tell me.” You puzzled him once again. You softly reach up between his furrowed eyebrows, the pad of your thumb smoothing it out. 

“Tell you what?” His mind was clouded with the possibilities of what he could have missed. 

“I can’t spell this one out for you.” You were tired of being the one to do everything first. Even if your intentions weren’t free from fault once you realized who he was, your feelings for him were anything but. 

“I don’t know what you want from me. You only let me fall for you because you knew how much it would hurt him.” He bit back, growing impatient and tired. “Any other time, I would have cared. Probably would have been more than happy to assist. But you made me-” 

Then Ransom cut himself off, jumping out of the swing and away from you. 

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I thought I could.” He literally sprinted to his beamer, but you chased him. 

You were hell bent and just as crazy as he was. Maybe it’s why it worked for as long as it did. 

“Hugh! Get back here.” You were running, thankful you’d gone for a more casual outfit today, the sneakers supporting your feet far better than the heels you’d usually wear. 

Maybe if it was someone with a normal childhood upbringing you would have just cut your losses but this was someone who chose to be called Ransom. 

This was someone who chose to run away from love and care because the only affectionate way he knew how to treat someone was to throw money at them. 

This was someone who had the communication of a ten year old because that’s when his own mother didn’t bother to mess with him anymore before sending him off to boarding school. 

This was someone who didn’t know how to love — and to be loved. 

By the time you caught up to him his was digging for his keys, but he couldn’t fucking find them. 

“Hugh Ransom Drysdale.” Your tone was sharp and he knew you meant business. “For once in your life, stop running away.” 

“Why not? What good has it ever done for me to stay?” His back was facing you, his broad shoulders stilled with the rest of his body. Almost like he was ashamed of what he was hiding. 

“I can’t speak for everyone else. I can’t speak for your mother or for Richard. For Harlan or for anyone else you thought might abandon you and really did.” You inched you way closer until you knew he felt how close you were to him.

“I can only speak for me.” Giving yourself, the final piece of you to a man who might run away from it. 

You were so close he felt your breath on his back, and it made him tremble. He was shaking, terrified of it all. You didn’t let him be for long. 

Intertwining your fingers with his, as he kept them at his sides, rubbing your thumb along the palm of his hand. 

“I’m sorry for the way I hurt you. Lied to you. You never deserved it. Never.” You thought it would be easier if he didn’t have to look at you while pouring your heart out to him. A theory proved to be right as he gave your hand a squeeze. 

“You’ve done nothing but treat me like a princess. You’ve done right by me, more than anyone else I’ve ever met in my life. It made me feel inadequate. My dark secret, always looming over us like a dark cloud of my own personal doing.” 

“I’m sorry I haven’t done the proper thing by us and made you feel like I used you. You had every right to feel it because I did.” You took a deep breath, mustering up the courage to face whatever the future held for the two of you. 

“I never expected to fall in love with a trust fund, playboy brat.” You felt him take a deep breath, like a breath he’d be holding all his life could finally be set free. 

“I love you, Hugh.” The next thing you knew he had you pushed up against the car, lips hungrily attacking your own. 

All forgiven because you love him. You actually were in love with him. 

He couldn’t fathom it really because you’d been the first. To accept him just as he was. The first to refuse to call him Ransom because you like the way Hugh rolled off your tongue better. 

You liked how he felt on your tongue, too. 

The first to tell him Fran and Marta should call him Hugh because you wanted to be the only one who got to. The first woman to cook for him, willingly and not attached to the Thrombey payroll. 

The first woman he had ever fallen in love with. 

The first one he’d stick around and not run away for. 

So, he kissed you. Hard. Softly whispering how much he loved you into the kiss, because maybe he wasn’t ready to say it outright. Loud and proud. 

Yet, he felt it with every bone of his body — no longer lost in the blues.

taglist: @tonystankschild @parkastoria @tinylumpiaa @brattycherubwrites

#im so anxious to post this #bc i dont really love it but....... #here we go folks. #i rewrote it too many times sksksk 💀 #not doing it again #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale smut #ransom drysdale fluff #ransom drysdale fic #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale fanfiction #chris evans #chris evans x reader #m.writes

[hotdamnhunnam]

Teller What She Wants to Hear

A/N: So the idea behind this shameless piece of smut is that Jax Teller is a sex god who can straight up get you off with just the power of his dirty talk... because if anybody can, we know it’s THIS god of a man.

Pairing: Jax Teller x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, dirty talk, dom!Jax, teasing you in front of other men (but no actual sex in front of them), light choking, Jax getting you off at work (because hell yes office sex)

Word Count: ~1.9k

First time Jax Teller called you ‘bitch’ in bed, you practically exploded.

And he noticed. Noticed right away that being called his bitch had made your pussy twitch. That even just the slightest hint of dominance and degradation, coming from him, seemed to scratch your every itch.

“Well, damn...” his tongue flicked in a devilish dance across his luscious lips as he watched your eyes flutter in bliss, body trembling to death beneath his. “You really fucking like that, huh? You like being my dirty little slut?”

Holy shit. Too turned on to speak, needy and weak, you just spastically nodded. This man made you so goddamn desperate. So wet. You just tried not to drown in the flood. In that instant you knew you were born to be nothing but his fucking slut.

You came harder that night than you ever had, moaning like mad, while Jax kept up a mind-blowing stream of obscene dirty talk, as he ravaged your holes with his raging hard cock. Take it, whore. This what you want? This what you fucking live for? Taking this big dick so good in that tight little cunt? Fuck yeah, just like this. Scream for me, bitch. You want more? Want me to cum deep inside this sweet pussy or fill up that hot fucking mouth of yours? With each vigorous thrust of his hips Jax would press his lips closer against your ear, just to make sure you could hear, over your uncontrollable screams. Words straight out of your wildest dreams.

And the dream hasn’t ended, since then. Turns out your badass biker boyfriend is a literal god among men. Now he knows what his dirty words do, the sheer power that one filthy whisper can have over you, he gets off on exerting that power again and again and again.

Sometimes the cocky son of a bitch even dares to talk dirty to you in public, right in front of his club and his friends—working his wicked magic, teasing you about just how desperate you are for his big fucking dick, while the whole damn room watches and listens. You’d acted as if you were pissed off about it, the first time it happened. You weren’t. Loved it more than you liked to admit, but Jax knew it, and there was no need to pretend.

It went without saying that all the Sons respected you a ton, given your status as SAMCRO’s reigning First Lady, basically. But respect didn’t mean that they couldn’t indulge in a bit of fun, seeing you fall to pieces at the hands of the President. Sighing and shivering just from the force of the smutty words he murmured into your ear.

“Aye, Jackie Boy!” Chibs would cheer, spurring Jax on as you’d come undone just from the sound of your man’s painfully sexy voice. “Go on and give it to ‘er good, son. Tell ‘er what she wants to hear.”

It’s gotten to the point where Jax’s dirty talk can fuck you up more deeply and completely than his cock. Which is saying a lot, ‘cause that cock never fails to hit all of your spots.

But the pure fucking porn that pours out of that damn sinful mouth he’s got... God, you might fall apart just at the thought. 

Which would be inconvenient, because you're at work right this moment. Stuck in the office late after a long exhausting day. Jax usually swings by at lunch for a much-needed lay, but some serious club business kept him away, and your pussy is aching and empty and super not fucking okay.

All you have are your thoughts of him sending you into a trance.

So you decide to walk the hallways for a minute just to stretch your legs, to try and take your mind off sex; can’t help but wonder if your boss or your friends in the office would notice if you slipped a hand in your pants...

That’s when you feel his telltale presence: the real boss of your ass, coming up from behind you now all of a sudden and casually taking that ass in his dominant grasp. 

“Whatcha doin’ there, darlin’?” he asks, and already the sound of his low raspy voice in your ear has your toes curling. Only Jax Teller can make darlin’ sound like a foul thing dripping with sin.

“Jax...!” you gasp, swiftly turning to face him, so desperate to feel him and taste him, smiling while he traces your lips with his thumb. “I was just—um...”

He goes ahead and finishes the sentence for you as his deep blue eyes explore you. “Looks like you were thinking how badly you needed to cum.”

Fucking hell. Of course he could tell; Teller knows you so well. “You’re not wrong...”

“Never am,” he gloats—all too true—dropping one hand to caress your throat, knowing how badly you long to be choked, while his other hand slides toward the crotch of your pants. “But damn, Y/N, that’d be a very naughty thing to do. Even for a bad little bitch like you.”

You’re so horny right now that you don’t even care who might turn down the hallway and witness you two in plain view. Getting fired would be fucking worth it, to give in to this burning thirst. Need him so bad it hurts. “Naughty?” you innocently bite your bottom lip as you repeat the word. “What, getting off at work? You know it wouldn’t be the first...”

“Not that,” Jax cuts you off, voice gravelly and gruff. “Getting off without me. Without fucking permission. But you knew that already, hun—betcha just wanted to piss me off. Didn’t you. Damn disobedient slut.”

Ohhh God...

“Tell you what,” he grunts, using one of his fists to pin your hands against the wall above your head, the other reaching down to grope your cunt, throbbing and dripping wet. “I’ll give you one minute. That’s all your gonna get. You’re gonna rub that pussy up against my fist, pretending it’s my dick, and see if you can get yourself off just like this. 'Cause you’re a desperate little bitch who wants to get it in the middle of the fucking office. Better make it quick.”

Hoooly... fucking...

“Mmm, that’s it,” Jax goads you on, smirking in savage satisfaction as you grind your soaking heat against the blunt heel of his palm. “Look at you, fucking loving this. You kinky piece of shit.”

And then the cruel sadistic bastard shifts his hand off of your crotch, as if it wasn’t hard enough as is, to finish in a minute. Spends a few seconds groping at your tits—which definitely helps—but then the rest you’re gonna have to do yourself. Just from the sheer sound of him growling in your ear, the tightness of his grip upon your wrists, the way he finally clamps his other hand around your neck and chokes you with his ruthless fist, surrounds and drowns you in that dizzying distinctive smell of cigarettes and leather and of Jackson Fucking Teller. He knows his power feeds your pleasure. You are his, now and forever.

“You gonna cum?” he teases, pressing harder in your pulse point with his thumb. “You gonna cum for me, you dirty whore? Squirt all over the office floor?”

Yes sir. Yes sir. Can’t even breathe to tell the answer.

“Ten more seconds,” he mercilessly taunts. “Go on, you filthy fucking cunt. You know you live to give me what I want.”

Jesus Christ. There are no words left to describe what’s happening between your thighs. What little remains of your sanity, dignity, splutters and dies.

“That’s right. Cum for me. Cum for me...” Jax leans in even closer to your ear, huffing out the one word that you need to hear. Right fucking here. The word that started all of this, the word that never fails to ruin you completely: “... bitch.”

And you cum on the fucking instant, honestly harder than anyone should be able to cum. Let alone from without being touched. How is it even physically possible that you just had an orgasm? How dare this motherfucker just exist and effortlessly own your ass like this? But holy fucking fuck, you love it so damn much...

You have no sense of what exactly happens in the next few seconds; your whole body and soul have gone numb. Apparently Jax carried you quickly into the nearest bathroom, to clean you right up. You come back to your senses to find that he’s kissing you softly and sweetly, denying your pleas to get down on your knees ‘cause you’re dying to give him a blowjob. You can see clearly through his dark jeans that he’s hard as a rock, and you’re desperate to suck him clean, drain every drop of cum from his big beautiful cock...

“Maybe after we get home,” he says, as he finishes mopping up the mess of your explosive pussy juices. He strips off his leather kutte—no doubt he plans to take his flannel off next so that you can wear it as a makeshift dress, since your own pants are drenched and totally fucked over. He’s such a cruel master yet such a caring lover. “Babe, you need some more time to recover from how hard I just made you cum.”

“How hard you just made me...?!” you exclaim in protest, playfully punching him in the chest. “Pretty sure you had me doing all the work. Don’t be a fucking jerk.”

Jax flashes you a cheeky smirk, broad shoulders lifting in a shrug, and throws his hands up. “Okay. Whatever you say, bitch.”

And there it goes—that word still hits you hard from head to toe, though nowhere more so than your cunt. There’s only one way that your poor pussy knows to respond. Twitch.

At that, you hear him fucking chuckle as your knees buckle. You scowl at him; that twitch was almost more than you could take after your orgasm. Almost. The kinky slut inside you likes it, though. “Well, shit...”

Still laughing just a bit, Jax strokes your shoulder tenderly, blessing your forehead with a pure innocent kiss. “Yeah, I guess the B-word is off-limits. At least for a few minutes.”

“Or...” you cut in, lustfully licking your lips, “...well, I mean, now that you started this—we could just... maybe go at it again?”

He pauses for a second, smiling as he reaches to cradle your face in his hands. For some reason the silliest, filthiest moments are most often when his heart opens. You love when that happens. 

“God, I fucking love you, Y/N,” he murmurs and means it, more than you’ll ever understand. Jax Teller fucks you like he owns you, knows it’s true—and yet deep down, in all the ways that count, you own him too. Both know his heart is yours.

“I love you more,” you answer, though your love is not the only reason why your heart has started beating faster. Now is not the time for sweet talk to distract; you’ll have to whip out some of your own dirty talk to get this sexy bastard back on track... “Now call me bitch again and shove me up against the bathroom door. Need you to fill me with that cock and fucking fuck me like I’m nothing but your filthy little whore.”

***************

Thank you for reading!! ❤️ First few days on tumblr and I’m already a total whore for reblogs/comments/likes... knowing folks enjoy the filthy fantasies I write is really nice ☺️

UPDATE: In case there’s any interest – I’ve now posted more fics and started a Masterlist and a Tag List – Join Here!*

*If you’re unable to use that link to join the tag list, just let me know and I’ll manually add you to it!

#jax teller #soa #sons of anarchy #charlie hunnam #smut #dirty talk #jax teller smut #soa smut #sons of anarchy smut #charlie hunnam smut #jax teller fanfiction #soa fanfiction #charlie hunnam fanfiction #jax teller imagine #soa imagine #charlie hunnam imagine #jax teller x reader #charlie hunnam x reader #jax teller x you #charlie hunnam x you

[nightjung]

𝐚 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: a little hair pulling, basically exhibition

𝐚/𝐧: no one asked for this but i’ve been wanting to write this for awhile, so enjoy :)) (thoughts are italicized) 

[ 1.1k words ]

It was barely 6 AM and you could feel your boyfriend mumbling beside you. Finally a day for you and himself yet he’s managing to wake you up with his incoherent sighs. With a hand over your waist and his lips nuzzled against your neck, you turn around to face Jaehyun to see what he kept mumbling about.

He must be so tired. Playing with his hair, you frown when you realize that his schedule has been so busy, nonstop filming for his drama and the recent comeback project. He’s such a hard worker. Here he was, giving up his free time for you, and it doesn’t help that you two are both closely squished on his twin bed.

After not hearing him mumble anymore, you surrendered to the weight of your eyes, but all of a sudden you felt Jaehyun pressing a wet kiss to your neck. Your eyes opened to meet his, which held tiredness but also seduction. You let out a small moan when he kisses your neck again, this time adding a little bit of pressure. 

“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. Jaehyun gently grabs your shoulders and lays you until you’re fully on your back, the light bedcovers barely covering your body. The coolness of the room slightly stings your skin.

You lay on your back as Jaehyun props himself on his elbow then hesitantly trails his fingertips across your skin, making sure to lift his shirt that you drowned in. You shoot him a questioning look at why he was doing this so early in the morning. 

“I had a dream of you,” he lowers to your ear again, “so I thought I’d recreate it.” 

Your breath hitches when he meets the hill of your breast and gently squeezes the flesh in his large hands. A louder sigh leaves your lips as your chest begs your lungs to calm down, but Jaehyun shushes you by planting a gentle kiss to your lips, the lewd sounds of your tongues colliding quietly taking place of the silence in his room. When he advances his movements to pinching your nipple and rolling it between his fingers, your back arches at the new pressure he puts on you. Jaehyun knows the power he has over you and he smirks as you pull away, your mind only being able to focus on one thing, which is to only quiet yourself so Jaehyun’s poor roommate, Jungwoo, doesn’t wake up to the sounds of your moans. 

Jaehyun must’ve been able to read your mind, “he’s not going to hear us unless you let him,” he glances over his shoulder at his sleeping roommate whose back is towards you two, back rising and lowering at the patterns of his breathing. 

Jaehyun raises his brows at you and you give him an innocent nod, allowing him to do whatever he wants because you want it just as much or probably even more. As you inhale, his hands make way to your panties and he’s quick in maneuvering them to the side for his fingers. It’s so early in the morning and he already wants to get to the exciting part. 

“So wet, baby. So wet that I can just slip my fingers in,” he takes his time coating his fingers in your essence, making sure to spread it around for easier access. 

“Oh Jae-” you’re cut off as soon as Jaehyun covers your mouth, now completely hovering above you.

“As much as I love hearing you scream and moan my name, I need you to be quiet, princess. Can you do that?” he nips your ear. 

You clear your throat, nodding to comply only because he was leaving you hanging. 

“Good.” 

Carefully, Jaehyun covers your mouth with his large hand to ensure your silence. And as he plunges his fingers into you without warning, a smirk grows at the corner of his lips at the sight of your contorted face. Your hands flow to his hand that’s covering your mouth as you desperately hold onto his arm for the sake of your sanity. 

“That’s it, baby, you know how to be quiet,” he mumbles, pumping his fingers into you at a quicker rate. 

But when he rolls his palm on your clit, making sure to apply rough pressure, that’s when your eyes screwed shut, your grasps on his arm tightens, matching the growing knot in your stomach, and that’s when mind goes completely blank. Your heavy breathing escapes from your nostrils as you try to grip onto Jaehyun. The only thing you can focus on is Jaehyun’s quickening pace of his fingers entering in and out of you.

“You gonna cum?” 

You fervently nod your head, you’re so close you can feel it on his rough fingertips that graze and pressures that sweet spot inside of you. 

“On my fingers, baby,” Jaehyun breathes into your ear. 

In a desperate manner, you find yourself flipping both of your bodies over until you’re on top of Jaehyun. His chest is a little damp, but his face glows in the morning dusk. His lips are slightly plump from the swellness of the kiss and his eyes follow the puffiness from the night. He always looked good no matter what time of day it was, no wonder everyone loves Jaehyun, adores and admires him, but at the end of the day, he only fell on his knees for you. 

Jaehyun lifts his hand from your lips to support your body, while his other is dedicated to making you come undone. He knows your close from the look in your eyes; frenzied and glossy. 

“Come on, princess. For me, do it for me,” he whispers. 

If it wasn’t from the look that was plastered on his face, you would’ve taken your time to climax, but your body lurched forward and gently bit his shoulder while your hand wrapped around his head, pulling him closer to you and gently tugging on his strands. 

Jaehyun slowly pumped his fingers as your body calmed down on top of him, he stroked your hair, knowing that it always helped you come down from your high. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun kisses your temple to only realize that you’ve already fallen asleep. He chuckles to himself as he wipes your essence off his fingers, finding it too energy-demanding to taste you and throws the tissue to the side. 

“I love you too, but this is way too early to be horny,” you mumble, eyes shut. 

Giggling at your state of mind, he presses a kiss to your forehead as a tired smile grows on your lips. “Can’t help it when my beautiful girlfriend looks so sexy in my shirt,” he replies, wrapping his arms around your limp body, “now go to sleep, we have a couple more hours.” 

#jaehyun imagines #jaehyun smut #jaehyun fluff #nct 127 imagines #jung jaehyun imagines #jaehyun au

[hotchley]

like blood underneath your fingernails

Honestly, I’m quite proud of this one. It’s been in the works for a while, and I finally have a title (from Looking Too Closely- Fink) and I both did those flashcards and emptied the dishwasher, so it’s here now. It’s been proofread!! Once. In the car.

The writers (according to the internet) did not deal with the aftermath of Scratch’s initial... thing. So I took it upon myself to write the case after. It got dark, but I had fun writing it. And it has low-key Mortch vibes... a lot of other amazing writers have also written fics linked to this, so you need to read those too because they’re just the best

OH!! This is not a Rossi-friendly fic. I have tried to explain why he responds the way he does, but it does come off as Rossi bashing, so if you reallllly love him and think he was a great friend to Hotch... skip on this one.

Trigger Warnings: dissociation, aftermath of torture, a slight reference to suicide and child death, canon-typical violence, cases involving kidnappings and murder, blood, dark themes, other canon-typical darkness, hallucinations

read on ao3!

He cannot close his eyes.

Because when he closes his eyes, he sees one of them, falling to the ground as the light leaves their eyes and the life leaves their body because his worst fear has never been his own death. It has always been the death of the family he is meant to protect- whether that was Sean, or Haley or the team. 

He hears the fear in JJ's voice as Spencer, her little brother, the boy that has always been too young, the man that he has never succeeded in saving, falls to the ground, eyes never opening again. 

He tastes the horrifying and coppery tang of blood as Derek is shot right in front of his eyes, the blood splattering onto his cheek and every sentence Reid has ever spoken about the bacteria and pathogens in blood springing to the forefront of his mind.

He smells the bitter and disgusting sage that Peter Lewis uses to torment people and turn them into brutal murderers that cannot stand the sight of their own hands or wrap their heads around their actions because they had always been normal and good, and it hurts because he's already a killer, never once normal or good.

He touches the knife that was slid towards him, the metal cool against his warm hand and the weight a comforting thing that make him feel like he could regain control of the situation he was in, despite the thoughts of George Foyet that fill his mind, and he wonders whether Scratch is impotent.

He closes his eyes and he no longer knows what is real.

It is why he is returning to work only ten days after the case. He had wanted to take the usual five, terrified even of that small number because he couldn't trust himself. The doctors that assessed him in the hospital wanted him to take thirty. Ten, and a passed psychological evaluation, had been the compromise.

He wonders if the team knows how he lied. They must do. They aren't stupid. He wonders if anyone will call him out on it, or if they'll once again be so terrified of the humanity he wants nothing more than to cling to that they will simply watch and wait until he shatters again.

The steady ticking of the clock is the only noise in the otherwise silent apartment. When he flicks the light on, he sees there are still five hours until he needs to wake up. For a single moment, he closes his eyes, contemplating whether or not attempting to sleep is a pointless exercise. He swears he can still taste sage and opens his eyes again.

A silent house is not necessarily a bad thing. It means Jack is sleeping through the night, no nightmares about the gunshots haunting him. And it means the extra locks on the door, the obsessive way he checks every window is locked as soon as the sun goes down, are doing their job at keeping the monsters out of the only home Jack has real memories of.

Aaron creeps out of bed, grabbing the jumper that was folded at the foot of his bed. Once he's put it on, he sighs to himself and counts to five. For each number, he tells himself a fact that cannot be disputed. That grounds him.

His name is Aaron Hotchner.

He is forty-four years old. 

He is standing inside his bedroom, in his apartment, which is located in Virginia.

The windows of that apartment are locked from the inside.

Just down the hallway, his son is sleeping peacefully, untouched by the monsters that strangle his father every single day.

He creeps down that hallway, taking comfort when the same floorboard that always creaks does just that. Normally he would avoid it. But lately he's been finding every opportunity to do something that Peter Lewis would have no knowledge of, if only so he can convince himself he's fine.

Jack's door is slightly open, allowing some light to enter. Aaron nudges it gently, making sure he doesn't wake Jack. The door doesn't make a sound, and his son carries on sleeping. He never looks so similar to his mother as he does when he sleeps. Haley slept on her left side, a slight smile on her face, and Jack does the same, unless he has a bad dream.

But even then, he is so much like his mother that his tears can be turned into something beautiful. Aaron was the exception of their little family, having always expressed his emotions so honestly, the few times he let himself do that, that there was no way it could be anything but ugly and human.

He's too big for the chair in front of Jack's desk, but he sits in it anyways, turning it so he can face Jack's bed. On the table is his latest art project- a collage of things that remind him of the people he loves- and Aaron finds it difficult to look at. Because his son has painted his mother as a perfect angel, and his father a superhero.

One day, Jack will realise his father is the furthest thing from the superhero and he will hate him for destroying his childhood and taking his mother from him before he was old enough to understand that people were mortal. Aaron is mentally preparing for that day- there are already so many letters that will never excuse or justify what he did hidden in his office drawer- but until then. he will allow himself this one good thing.

He will allow himself to sit, and take comfort in the steady rise and fall of Jack's chest. He ends up staying there until sunlight starts to stream through the window, and then he takes his leave. 

Seeing Jack, sleeping so calmly and normally, reminds him of why he's going back to work. Because if he hurts the wrong person there, the team won't hesitate and they'll do it. If he hurts Jack- and he knows he's weaker than the man that refused to harm his son, knows that it will be Jack- there will be nobody there to end his pain and suffering. He'll be forced to live with it.

A minute before his alarm is set to go, he turns it off, and then he goes about morning like it is any other day. 

He doesn't feel like himself till he puts the watch Dave got him when became lead profiler on, tightening the strap till it mirrors the feeling of holding the knife. And he wonders whether the team are discussing his return to duty the same way they had six years ago. 

They are. Aaron's absence meant more paperwork for the rest of them, as there is no way the team are going to let him handle it when he comes back, so every single one of them are in an hour earlier. It also means his return will be as smooth as it can be.

Even if they don't all approve.

"It's only been ten days," Derek says. "He needs more time."

"Does he? He came back thirty-four days after George Foyet stabbed him in his apartment and his wife and son were sent into Witness Protection, and he was fine. This is like child's play compared to that," Dave says, fiddling with a paperclip.

"Ex-wife," Reid corrects quietly. 

The three of them are sitting in the bullpen, looking towards the elevator every few minutes. Kate pretends she's not listening, and Derek pretends he believes her.

"Was he fine? He looked us in the eye and asked why a man that had lost his wife and child was still alive. He walked into a hostage situation unarmed. We all pretended he was fine because we needed Foyet to strike, but I'm not making that mistake again. Not after what happened when he did end up striking," Derek snaps.

Spencer swallows. Dave just raises an eyebrow. It's almost funny. Spencer views Aaron as a father, Dave as a son. Either way, they both believe he is perfect. Able to come back from anything and everything with nothing more than a broken ego. But Derek remembers what Foyet's body looked like, and he remembers how Aaron had shattered in his arms for those few seconds.

"If you want to ruin his first day back, then be my guest. But you need to trust him the same way he trusts us. After all, you care more about him than you do your job," Dave says, annoyance bleeding into his tone.

And Derek gets it. He really does. He had wanted to believe Gideon was invincible when he came back after Boston. Everyone had. So they hadn't done anything, and he had just gotten more and more reckless with his actions until innocent people ended up dead and Hotch got suspended. And then he ran. 

He isn't going to let that happen again.

"This isn't about not trusting him. This is about keeping him safe. And you're right. I do care about him more, because the last time I didn't, he almost retired. So we either do the opposite of what we did last time, or we let history repeat itself."

"Derek, you can't force him into anything. He passed his psych eval, so Cruz can't do anything either," Spencer says. 

Derek softens as he turns to him. "I know pretty boy. It's not about forcing him into anything. It's about making sure he knows that we're here if he needs more time, or if he needs a break. And don't get me started on that psych eval. I saw his answers. They're too perfect. He's lying."

"So what are you going to do?" Dave challenges, and not for the first time, Derek wonders how Aaron kept his sanity working with him, Jason Gideon and Max Ryan at the same time without any of the other members to meet his eyes with the same exasperated look every time one of them reverted to the old fashioned way of doing things.

"Be the friend he trusts me to be," Derek says. It's his own challenge. Dave prides himself on being the only one to call him Aaron. To people outside the team, Rossi seems to be the only one that Aaron trusts enough to be vulnerable with. 

But Derek knows better. Aaron will never be completely open with anyone, but he still feels like he has a duty to be the hopeful and undamaged boy that thought he could save the world that Dave recruited. He still has a duty to be the father that Spencer never had and thought he'd found in Gideon. It is only with Derek that he allows himself to do his own type of falling apart: one that is contained and messy and ugly. Somehow both terrifying and anticlimactic

It was Derek that stopped him from running into a burning building all those years ago. It was Derek that was voluntarily told about Haley leaving. It was Derek that stepped up as Unit Chief and pulled him off Foyet's dead body. Not Dave and certainly not Spencer. So he won't let them influence his actions. Not this time.

Hotch does blink. But only when he thinks nobody will see him do it.

Dave keeps eye contact for a few more moments, but this time, Derek does not break it. Eventually the older man turns around and heads to his office. Derek sighs, knowing fully well that Aaron is going to end up doing the paperwork anyways.

"Is he going to be okay?" Spencer asks, sounding so painfully young that Derek has to look at him to remember he wasn't the new recruit anymore.

"Dave? Yeah, he'll be annoyed, we'll get a case and then everything will be fine," Derek says, smiling so Reid doesn't worry.

"No I meant Hotch. Will he be okay?"

Derek can't tell him the truth. "Of course he will. He's Hotch."

"Why are you lying to me?"

He knows there's no point in trying to deny it. "I'm not trying to patronise you or keep you in the dark. It's not that. It's just- I don't know. It's stupid, but I want to shield you from his mortality and flaws and imperfections for as long as is humanly possible. You are always going to have a different relationship with Hotch because of how much younger you are, and I just don't want to be the one that ruins it."

"So you want to protect me?"

Derek nods. "I guess."

"Thank you. Nobody ever did that when I was younger," Spencer says.

Kate breaks the ensuing silence by asking for Spencer's opinion on her consult, and Derek starts watching the elevator doors again. They don't open until precisely nine, when Hotch steps off, dressed in the same suit and tie he wears every second Monday of the month, carrying his briefcase and acting like nothing happened.

He gives them a slight smile as he passes them in the bullpen, and even those few seconds are enough for Derek to see that he hasn't been sleeping.

When Aaron sets his briefcase down, Spencer looks to him, nervous. Derek gives him a small smile, even though they all saw him as he entered. It's only been ten days since they last saw him, but his suits seem to hang from him more than before. Dave looks out at them, and Derek starts to count.

He counts to three hundred, and is immediately struck by just how fast time can go. Three hundred seconds is five minutes, and yet it feels like no time has passed. But when Hotch looks out at them, as he always does, everyday, without fail, ten days feels like a lifetime.

He is terrified as he stands, but he fights through the fear and goes up to his friend's office. The door is open, so he walks in without knocking. When Hotch looks at him, he closes both the door and the blinds. Hotch swallows as the sound of them closing fills the air.

"I don't want them profiling this conversation," he explains.

Aaron just nods. "Thank you."

"You don't need to pretend with me," Derek says.

Aaron looks away, and Foyet's presence, usually contained to the self-deprecating voice in his head telling him he's no better than his father, seems to fill the room. They both know why he doesn't pretend anymore.

"I don't know what you want me to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I don't expect you to tell me the truth, because I wouldn't, if I was you. I'd be too terrified. But I remember what it was like seeing Spencer and Emily. So if you do want to talk, then I'm here. Always. And I won't flinch."

Aaron knows this to be true. When they finally got back to Quantico after Jason's death, Derek found him sobbing in the men's bathroom, the barriers he had spent so long piecing together completely breaking when he opened his drawer and found a photo from the early days, where Jason looked happy and hopeful. He hadn't said anything. Just sat beside him, and offered a tissue. 

"I know you won't."

Derek sighs, not sure what he's meant to do. "Aaron-" he starts, not sure what he's going to see next.

"I can't trust myself. I- I don't know what's real, and I keep trying to do the grounding things that the bureau therapist said I need to, but I don't know if they're working. I have post-it notes all over the apartment and I have my five facts, and I have things I can touch, but Scratch knew so much, I can't- I feel like he's everywhere and he knows everything."

It is so honestly vulnerable that Derek wants nothing more than to flee, if only so he can cling to the Aaron that existed when he first joined the unit for just one more moment. But he made a promise. And he has no idea how he's meant to keep it, but he's going to.

He holds his hand out. When Aaron doesn't take it, he leans over the desk, gently linking their fingers. "I'm here. With you. Scratch can't get our body temperatures perfect. He can't know that I'm always slightly warmer and you're always colder. He can't know that twelve years ago, I called you darling because I didn't realise it was you."

Aaron chuckles slightly. "Derek."

"You don't need to say anything. I messed up after Foyet. I won't do that again."

He shakes his head, finally meeting his eyes, and the fire in them is almost enough to convince Derek that everything is going to be fine. Almost.

"You did everything you could after Foyet. If you had tried to do more, I would have stopped you. We both know that. You did everything right, everything perfectly right and you cannot feel like you failed because you didn't. Do you understand me?"

Derek swallows. “Yes. But you need to understand that if you need anything- and I mean anything, whether it’s for me to take the reins for a bit, an unofficial firearms certification, or even just to do the grounding techniques with you, I will.”

Aaron nods. “I know Derek. I know. Thank you.”

Derek gives him the most convincing smile he can, leaving the door open because Aaron hated having it closed. As he exits. Dave steps in, and he sees as Aaron morphs back into Hotch to be the man that Dave needs him to be. It hurts to see, but he understands why it happens.

He doesn’t believe in God. He hasn’t for a while. But he needs to do something other than stare at dead bodies, so he prays that the team remain grounded for a few days. Not for too long because then Aaron will get suspicious and realise that Derek had been forging Rossi’s signature in order to transfer their out of state cases to other teams, but long enough for him to get settled once more.

Or as settled as he would ever be.

It’s probably why, only minutes after Dave leaves Hotch’s office, smiling, whilst the other man just looks exhausted, JJ comes rushing into the bullpen. There are five files in her arms, and she looks frantic. 

“No,” Derek says.

“I’m sorry, but we need to go on this one. It came directly to me. It’s- just look.”

He doesn’t want to, but as JJ goes to give the files to Dave and Aaron, he does, if only so he can gauge how much support he will need. And as he opens it, he understands exactly why they’re going on this case. Why, even if JJ had tried to hide it from Hotch, he would’ve said they had a duty.

They have four victims. All blonde women. All mothers. All divorced. Killed by a single gunshot to the head. No evidence of sexual assault, but they were held captive and tortured for three days before being dumped in their home. All found by their ex-husbands, who were only there to drop the child off.

Hotch does not show an ounce of humanity during the journey there. It terrifies Derek. Hotch only refuses to show how human he is when he’s close to falling apart. Too close for anyone to feel comfortable. Instead, he keeps his tone detached and professional. Derek pretends to not notice the way Aaron pushes down on his stomach, over the biggest scar Foyet left. Aaron pretends he doesn’t see Derek watching him.

When they get to the station, Derek knows it’s going to be a long case. Him and Reid are sent to the coroner’s office, whilst JJ and Kate are tasked with searching through their victims history. Which means Hotch and Rossi are left to interview the husbands. JJ and Derek- the most attuned to Hotch and the thought behind his actions- make a silent agreement that they will do whatever it takes to make sure Rossi doesn’t go too far. Whatever that means.

They fail because they don’t get the chance to speak to him before they leave the precinct.

And when they return, Dave is nowhere to be seen, and Aaron is sat in the conference room, clenching his jaw and hyper focused on the details in the case files.

“Did you get anything from the husbands?” JJ asks, tone gentle.

Hotch shakes his head. “They’re grieving, and terrified for their children. But they’re not guilty. They all loved their wives.”

Nobody bothers to point out all four couples were divorced.

"Where's Rossi?" Reid asks.

The tension in Aaron's shoulders increases.

"Hotch," Kate says, the only one that can.

"He accused one of the father's of committing the crime," Hotch says.

JJ and Morgan give each other identical looks. Kate looks horrified, and Spencer is stunned speechless.

"What happened after?" she prompts.

Hotch doesn't speak. Kate sighs, then leads JJ away. As she passes Spencer, she asks him to follow her because Hotch and Morgan need to speak alone. He nods and leaves without another word.

"Aaron," Derek says.

"I ended the interrogation and dragged him out of the room. And then I punched him in the face because those women remind me of Haley and those fathers remind me of myself and every accusation he made reminded me of the months after her death and I couldn't do it."

Derek wants to punch Dave himself. He must have known what he was doing, and in some strange and obscure way thought his actions would help the situation. Clearly he couldn't have been more wrong.

"You didn't cause Haley's death," he says, for lack of any other words.

"I did. Maybe I didn't put the gun to her head and pull the trigger, but I did cause it. That's not what I'm scared about though."

"What are you scared of then?" Derek asks, well aware that they're in the middle of a police station where anyone could hear them, but needing to take advantage of Aaron's vulnerability before he let his mask slip back into place.

"Scratch. I punched Dave and it felt like Scratch was laughing at me, egging me on to hurt him more. The worst part is that I almost did. Punching him felt good, and then I panicked and now I don't know- I don't know whether the only thing I did was punch him or if I did something more."

Derek curses under his breath. "How long have you been feeling like that?"

Hotch shrugs. "I couldn't- I forgot what time it was when I stumbled back here. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," he says, the words almost reflexive because of every apology Aaron has ever given him. "We just need to ground you."

He takes Aaron's hands, noting that the muscles are moving the way they should be. It's a small thing, but it's a good thing, because it means he's wearing the wrist support when he needs them and doing the physical therapy.

“Look at me,” he commands softly.

Aaron does so willingly. “Derek, we’re in a conference room.”

“That’s good. Can you give me four other facts that prove you’re here, in this moment with me?”

"My name is Aaron Hotchner. I am forty-four years old. We are in a police station. You are Derek Morgan. There is a door behind you and a window behind me- the window is locked, but the door is wide open. We can both see if someone walks in."

"Show off," Derek teases.

Aaron manages to smile slightly. “Thank you,” he whispers after a moment.

“You have nothing to thank me for,” Derek says. He means it.

This time, Aaron’s laugh is self-deprecating. “I’m a horrible person to look after.”

“Not to me you’re not. How do you feel now?”

He shrugs. “Better, I guess.”

“Drink some water. Slowly. I’ll go check on Dave.”

“Do you think he’s going to hate me?” Aaron asks.

“You’re the closest thing he has to a friend. Of course not,” Derek says. He keeps his tone light, but deep down he’s afraid that Dave will. Not forever, he could never do that, but for long enough that something else goes wrong.

He finds Dave in the bathroom. 

“Hotch told me what happened,” he says.

“And what? You’re here to tell me that I shouldn’t have pushed because he’s fragile and hurting? Did you tell him that he shouldn’t have fucking punched me in the face because of something I said to a suspect?”

“Those men were not suspects and you know that,” Derek snaps. He sighs. “I wasn’t coming here to tell you that you shouldn’t have pushed. I came to see whether or not you were okay.”

Dave raises an eyebrow. Derek sighs, again.

“He saw Scratch when he punched you. Now he’s worried. And he’s falling back into old patterns. I told him he didn’t kill Haley and not only did he not believe me, he flat out disagreed and said he did.”

“What do you want me to do?” Dave asks. He doesn’t sound angry, just tired. Derek wants to shout at him. He may be tired after this one event, but he’s not been the one picking up the pieces and gluing their fragile leader back together for the past few years. Dave doesn’t get to be tired. Not whilst Derek is still the only one able to do anything.

“I don’t know Dave. You’ve known him the longest. It was you that found him in the immediate aftermath. You took the gun from him- rather poetic given the last time an unsub targeted him, you told him to take yours- and got him to speak.”

Dave blinks a few times. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I thought being hard on him would bring him back, but I was wrong.”

“It’s okay. You just need to correct yourself now,” Derek says, for lack of any other words.

“I just want him to be the boy he was when he first joined the unit,” Dave whispers.

Derek did not know the boy his friend was then, but he does know the Aaron that existed before Boston. The Aaron that held a baby Jack in their arms like that one small child was enough to remove every piece of darkness to exist. The Aaron that had grabbed Haley’s hand and taken her dancing so they could spend a bit of time together.

"We all do. But he's gone now. The only thing we can do is try to save whatever pieces of him live in the Aaron that is sat in the conference room, beating himself up over something that was not his fault because of your misplaced comment," Derek says. They have a killer to catch. There's no time to entertain this.

"I know. Thank you. For doing what the rest of us are too afraid to," Dave replies. Derek shifts uncomfortably under the weight of his gaze. 

Something about the dynamic between the two men has changed, and everybody has noticed.

"Somebody has to," is all he can say, before he leaves Rossi to wash his hands and search for the man that had promised Aaron everything he could ever want, all those years ago when he first recruited him for the BAU.

There's an empty glass of water beside Hotch when Derek returns, and he's silently thankful that for once in his life, Aaron listened. He's deep in conversation with one of the police officers, so he refrains from making any comments, but when Aaron turns back towards the table, he goes over without a second thought.

He tells himself it's because he wants to know what happened just then. Because he wants to know whether or not they have any more information that can be used to their advantage. He tells himself it has nothing to do with the fact that learning about the case means he doesn't have to focus on the minute tremble of Hotch's hands. Doesn't have to see the hollow look in his eyes- a look of a man so defeated that he has no reason to try anymore.

The problem with being a profiler is that you rarely fall for anyone's bullshit- including your own.

“Did the officer have some additional information?” Derek asks.

Hotch hears him, obviously, but does not respond.

“Hotch,” he repeats.

“No. He didn’t. He wanted to know why you were holding my hands.”

Derek rolls his eyes. “And what did you say?”

“That ten days a man that managed to turn people that would never dare hurt another person into horrific killers drugged me, causing me to hallucinate the deaths of the same people that are solving his case for him, and as a result, I cannot always tell when things are real,” Aaron deadpans.

For a moment, Derek honestly can’t tell whether or not he’s joking. Then Aaron gives him the smallest smile, and he relaxes slightly. The last thing they need happening is officers spreading even more rumours about the types of cases the BAU work on.

He starts to reply with a joke of his own, then sees Aaron’s smile fade away like it was never there. He wonders how instinctive the action is- how many times was that little boy told he was too much, and how many times did he fade into the background like he didn’t even exist?

Without turning, he knows it’s Dave.

“I’m going to see if Spencer needs any help,” Derek says.

For a moment, it seems like Aaron is going to beg him to stay. But like most of his displays of humanity, it passes in a second, and then he simply nods, not even trying to fight.

“Aaron,” Dave says, walking over with purpose.

“Rossi don’t. Please,” Aaron pleads.

“What you did was stupid. But my actions were also uncalled for,” he says. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to a proper apology. Aaron accepts it because there’s not much else he can do. Dave pretends it’s going to fix everything because it’s the only thing that will get him through the case.

“Do you seriously think the fathers are to blame?” Hotch asks.

Rossi shakes his head. “Not anymore. I just needed to be sure.” He also needed to be sure that Aaron was fine, and given his response to Rossi’s accusation, he can’t say he’s convinced.

"Good," Aaron says, and the smile he gives Dave is so small and subtle, but so full of love, that for a single moment, the older profiler is able to convince himself that the fragile collection of skin and bones in front of him is still the hopeful boy that joined the unit. But then the moment passes and he's left feeling worse than before.

When the team come back, picking up on the cues that both Hotch and Rossi laid down, they go back to acting like nothing is wrong. Like the women in the photos are victims that deserve justice, and not the mirror of the same light they failed to save five years ago.

There are no breaks in the case, and they return to the hotel defeated and miserable. Budget problems mean they're doubling up. Part of Derek wants to switch rooms with Dave so he can keep an eye on Aaron, but the bigger part of him knows it would be a terrible idea, so he texts him saying that if he needs anything, no matter what time it is, he'll be available.

Aaron mouths the words thank you once he's read the message. Derek counts it as a win, and he tries to remain calm when Dave texts him saying that when he entered the shower- after Hotch- although the water dial was set to be normal, the water ran hot. Too hot.

He refrains from commenting the next morning, when Aaron clasps his glass of freezing water like a lifeline. In some ways, it is. And he knows what it's a sign of. He isn't sure whether it's caused by something in particular, or if he's just overwhelmed, but the hotel dining area- where Kate and Spencer would both hear- isn't the place to ask.

They get to the precinct, and it becomes clear that nobody there has slept. Another woman was found dead a few minutes before they got there. The father and son are sitting in the same conference room the BAU were working out of. For a moment, Aaron looks like he's going to kill the person that sent them there. The lead on the case quickly intercepts, saying they moved the boards and evidence files, and he relaxes slightly.

But before anyone can sleep, he removes his blazer and tie, before unbuttoning his top button and rolling his sleeves up. And then he walks into the conference room. Derek blinks, then it clicks. Aaron looks like a father. Someone both people sat in the room can trust. JJ hands him the information on the file, and his breathing stops for a moment.

The father and son could have been Aaron and Jack. If Aaron's eyes were darker and Jack's hair lighter, they would be the boys smiling in the photo provided with the file. He wants to take over the conversation Hotch must be having, but he finds himself rooted to the spot. How many cases are going to hit too close to home before Aaron gives up? Before it feels like every victim wears Haley's face? 

How many more times can Aaron Hotchner look into the darkest parts of humanity before his hands stop going cold at crime scenes and Derek Morgan needs to take his place in some weird parallel of the events that occurred after Boston? 

When the father and son leave the room, he jumps out of his chair and runs over.

"We will catch this man. And if you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me," he hears Aaron say.

He sighs to himself.

The father shakes his hand and leaves, guiding his son with nothing more than a gentle hand to the back of his head. He sees Aaron swallow. 

"You know you can't promise things like that," he chastises, not truly meaning it.

"It wasn't a promise. It was a guarantee," Hotch snaps.

Morgan simply raises an eyebrow.

"I'm sorry."

"Want to tell me about it?"

"I told him about Haley, and how I found her. And about how Jack was just down the hallway in my office- the one place in our home that my work touched, even if he never found it- so now he can't be alone on New Years or Independence Day. I only said it because he told me I didn't understand what it was like. To have to do that."

No amount of surgery is ever going to fix the hole in Aaron's heart that Haley's death created. They could plant seeds of love and watch them blossom into flowers of acceptance and fearlessness in every other part of his body, but that one area could never be touched.

Derek knows this. He's seen it before.So he doesn't offer any words, because there are none. Instead, he takes Aaron's arm and he squeezes the elbow. It is Aaron's non-verbal method of saying thank you. So in that moment, it can also be his.

Aaron isn't entirely sure why Derek is thanking him, but he learnt long ago that when someone said something, you didn't push. You accepted their words- whether they were kind declarations of love or as sharp as knives- and you moved on.

When Derek lets go of him, he walks back over to the team, feeling slightly lighter and infinitely more grounded.

Kate tells him another woman had been taken, and the weight he thought he'd been able to let go off settles on his chest like a death threat. There is a single moment where she worries that this will be the thing that causes him to fall off the edge of the cliff he's been standing on for far too long, but then he stands up properly and it's like nothing ever happened.

He doesn't sleep, instead pouring over the case file whilst Rossi gently snores beside him. If Jason had been with the team. he would've somehow realised that Hotch was still awake, and told him to go to sleep. And Hotch would've obeyed. But Jason wasn't with the team. He was dead. And sometimes that knowledge knocked Aaron off guard, so he stopped focusing on that and started concentrating on the woman.

Their break comes the next morning.

Garcia hasn't slept either, and between the two of them, they have a name and a location. Everyone piles into the cars, vests on and weapons ready, because even though nobody had said it, there was no way this is ending without at least one shot being fired.

The door to the building is unlocked, and they have their unsub surrounded within seconds. Hotch suddenly feels like a bucket of ice has been poured over him, causing him to freeze, and the blood to start pounding in his ears. Nothing feels real to him. He tightens the grip on his gun.

His name is Aaron Hotchner.

He is forty-four years old.

He is holding a gun because he is on a case.

The unsub is holding a knife to a woman's throat.

The woman looks just like Haley- no. He cannot think that. Not now. 

"Let her go," JJ commands softly.

"No," their unsub says.

What is his name? And why can Aaron not remember his name?

"If you put that knife down, and let her go, we can tell the courts that you cooperated with us. That'll be nice, won't it?" Kate adds. Her tone is completely level. Calming in a way that it shouldn't be.

The unsub grins, then presses the knife even closer to his victim's throat. She lets out a terrified whimper and closes her eyes. He yanks her hair, forcing her to open then, and he seems pleased with himself.

"I don't care about the courts. I care about the man I'm doing all of this for. He's going to be great, and he's going to make me great too. Just you wait and see."

This wasn't part of the profile. There was never meant to be a more dominant partner. The control Aaron has been clinging to in order to get through this case is slowly slipping away with each piece of information he either cannot remember or is introduced to him. 

"He? Who is he?" Spencer asks.

The man cocks his head. "Is it not obvious?"

Spencer shakes his head. "We're not like you. We need you to explain."

He nicks the skin slightly. Blood pools at the tip of the blade. Another digression from the previous pattern. No knives were ever used to cut the skin. The kills had been quick and clean. Why was everything changing?"

"I won't."

"The only way you get out of this alive is if you explain everything to us. Because this man, he won't make you great. Whoever he is, he only cares about himself. Not you. Certainly not your life. But we care about you. Just set the knife down," Derek says.

Aaron knows he needs to contribute, but he just can't do it. His tongue is like a useless knot in his mouth that he can't undo because his brain is twisted too.

"No," the man says, bringing it dangerously close to the woman's pulse.

"Aaron!" Derek shouts. "You're the only one with a clear shot. You need to take it. Or do something. Do you hear me? You are the only one that can do this. If he moves that knife, take the shot."

Aaron turns in the sound of the voice. Derek is telling him that he needs to take the shot, and he can see why. With the way they're stood, he is the only one that can possibly avoid hitting either the woman or another team member. 

He raises his hands, ignoring how they tremble. Front sight. Trigger press. Follow through. Three steps that he has been following since his days at the Academy. Three steps that mean he has never missed. Never failed.

The man smirks.

Aaron turns to make sure nobody else will get hurt, or can take the shot. But when he looks at Derek, it's not Derek.

It's Peter Lewis.

"No," he whispers, but in the silence of the room, he may as well have shouted at the top of his voice.

He turns to look at the man, and he sees that he is about to shoot Derek Morgan. The one person that has never been afraid of him. The one man that is still good and undamaged by his hands. The one man that can and has led the team without any sort of assistance with him.

"Aaron!" Derek's voice exclaims, but he still wears Mr Scratch's face.

Aaron does not know what is real anymore, but he knows he needs to minimise the damage. The gun falls from his hands, with the safety off. It lands on the floor with a clatter that is too loud to his ears.

Their unsub laughs, once, and slits the woman's throat. She falls to the ground, dead by the time she hits the ground. Derek- real Derek, whose hands have always been warmer than his- fires his gun once. The unsub also falls to the ground with a shout.

Aaron closes his eyes.

He hears his name.

He tastes copper.

He touches his own hand, startled by the coldness.

He sees Derek's terrified face.

He smells sage.

He smells sage.

He smells sage. And then the world goes black.

When he comes round, he does not know where he is. He does not know where the team is. He cannot ground himself in the moment or come up with five facts that prove his surroundings are real. 

He opens his eyes. The team is gone.

And he is covered in blood.

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #david rossi #spencer reid #kate callahan #penelope garcia #jennifer jareau #peter lewis #mr scratch #tw dissociation #tw suicide reference #tw child death reference #tw blood #tw kidnapping #tw murder #derek/// #derek /// #i'm so sorry i couldn't tell whether there was meant to be a space #tw dark themes #canon typical violence #tw hallucination #sumayyah writes cm

[thattimdrakeguy]

Weirdly enough Red Robin is the series I’d be most scared to review, because for obvious reasons I imagine more than any other character it’s the Tim fan base (I won’t say fandom, because I feel like that gives a different connotation nowadays. and it’s a bunch of chill, un-interactive but very passionate, chaps) that follow me.

And I’d just get sooo many people giving me nit-picks, and telling me stuff I already know.

Cause I can say anything against Teen Titans 2003, New 52, Rebirth, and Wonder Comics stuff cause that’s the generally agreed upon stuff that you can complain against for Tim. Cause like, to not play dumb to it, this whole Bat-Family fandom acts like there’s freaking laws to abide by if you don’t want a bunch of batty (not a pun, not even saying not a pun in sarcasm lol) fans and stans down your neck. Normally involving certain characterizations or comics that, honestly, aren’t even usually the more accurate ones, but the contradicting ones that don’t make a lick of sense, and that’s not even talking about the straight up fanon ones.

Not to say I wouldn’t get why it’s the Red Robin series that’d get people to give me crap out of all the Tim stuff, because I do. It’s a lot of peoples entry to Tim, and it’s pretty heavy implications of suicidal ideation, and more so obvious mental breakdown journey across continents means a lot to people. I can get why, and if it wasn’t those characters in it, I’d think it was great too.

Also I know for a fact people would act like I’m just bias for 90s Tim, and point out Timmy’s in a teddy bear hoodie in my header. Cause it’s the most weakest defense someone could possibly make cause they’re lacking an actual point. Like they know everything a fucking ‘bout me, when they don’t, I’m just allowed to think my own stuff, and I’m allowed my dang comfort art, so blah blah blah. I’ve proved myself enough. I don’t need some random dismissive guys random approval or not, but man can it be annoying when someone thinks they’re smart about it.

Like basically put, it would be very exhausting to go through the many different series and years of comic book content to explain why I think the way I do, when all the other person has to say is “I like this series a lot, and it means a lot to me, it’s story about depression, and plus it’s Tim being at the button of his sanity so-- And I think this person is stuck on 90s Tim” cause like I freaking get it, and acting like cause I prefer a different Tim comic means my opinion isn’t valid, is the most childish thing ya can really do. Like I love 90s Tim the most for a reason, and I started reading Tim as Red Robin first, ya ninny.

But to just be honest, it is an incredibly flawed series that has overall, in the long game, soiled the character of Tim Drake, and directly influenced the New 52 and beyond depiction of him. Not to give Lobdell an excuse, I just find it really odd that people getting praising it as the peak of Tim content when it’s even caused some really freaking toxic fandom beliefs.

When some of the most important scenes in the series are so botched that it has genuinely made people despise other characters when I don’t even think they were portrayed well for that to make sense. The messy inconsistent writing as it went between two different writers causing some absolutely terrible characterization for Tim that isn’t even always consistent within the series itself because FabNic is just awful, and how forgettable most stuff after the first story is.

That first story I can understand the love for it. But people treating the whole series as a whole like it’s a great journey of long-term story development just feels like a real bad describer for it. Because to me by the end of it’s run it caused Tim to be put in the terrible spot that he’s only now escaping from little under a decade later. As well as only really starting cause people in the company didn’t like Tim and the characters around them as much as you’d hope.

In total, I honestly feel like if it wasn’t released during a time were the common tastes were very edgy and emo-esque, as well as around the time the online fandom spaces were only really then being formed in a way that was practical for casual interaction and discussion, and being the only series titled “Red Robin” therefore people seem to think it’s Tim’s variation of “Nightwing”, when it’s honestly not, it wouldn’t be a series that highly regarded.

I’m not saying the whole thing is a pile of shit, cause it’s also frankly not. There’s some powerful stuff in there, and some moments that really do hit super hard in ways that don’t feel superficial. Cause another thing people don’t seem to understand that when I say his characterization isn’t good in it, does not equal me saying “He is not the same exact character he was 15 years before the series came out”, it legitimately just means I feel they took the character to places that felt more forced than genuine, or just had him stuff that goes against what he’d do for the sake of just being edgy as if it’s deep, even during his circumstances and it created people having a false understanding of who Tim is at his heart, that made it incredibly difficult for Tim to get a good story for basically a freaking decade.

It’s a series I want to review because I have genuine things to say about it, but when ever I do say anything about it I feel like I see several sub-posts that are almost undeniably about me (hasn’t happened for a while cause I don’t really bother talking about stuff I don’t like anymore, cause life's hard enough, and I’ve seen the worst end of a lot of people from it) trying to downplay me, because they got defensive about it, rather than actually trying to process what I meant by things instead of just assuming it cause it’s touchy for them.

Like I’ve openly shit on Damian’s most popular series’, and accepted fandom malarkey, because I legitimately think they’re overhyped as could be, not that great, and only have the popularity they do through bandwagoning and going along with things. And I did that while knowing how defensive the Damian fandom is, and how quick they are to just leak out nasty assumptions or outright suicide bait you (yes I remember someone tried to defend me by suicide baiting someone else, but fuck them too, I never defended them or asked them to. idgaf which fandom does it. i’m clearly not on anyone's team. this isn’t a fucking sports game).

I’ve even straight up shit on pretty much every single Jason story except Under the Red Hood, while defending some Robin Jason stories, and I haven’t even got crap on me for that, which is honestly strange. Surprisingly just got told “Ya know what. Fair point. I can accept that. I don’t agree, but I can accept it.”. Which given what I have been shown of the Jason fandom I expected much worse, but they’ve honestly been really chill with me. Me and the Jason fandom has been actually some of the most pleasant interactions I’ve had outside my own bubble.

The majority of Steph’s existence as a character I’ve criticized and gotten crap on it, but honestly I found the response of countless anons going “YEAH MAN I AGREE WITH YOU” and going way harder on her than I ever did to be pretty dang annoying, and even more annoying cause people kept thinking I said stuff I freaking didn’t out of it. So every now and again people will just straight up lie about me to my face. Like you try to talk to someone that’s been preparing to talk to you by fighting an imaginary version of yourself. It’s pretty difficult if I had to be honest. Talking ‘bout bias’s like I didn’t write TimSteph fan fictions before I realized they weren’t that great and didn’t work, while realizing that I honestly didn’t think Tim was into girls in-general.

But, to get back on topic, with the Tim fandom it’s less like, open faced attempts to make you feel like a garbage human being, and more just straight up rudely dismissive as quite often the ones I’ve seen do it try to portray themselves as some calm knowledgeable unbias source of Tim knowledge.

And there’s a different sensation of annoyance at that.

Like what is the point of trying to pretend to be some source of knowledge and for a few comradery, while also being a dismissive person that first has to make others seem lesser.

And there’s some that I’ve seen do it that I don’t even think are dicks honestly, and have no problem with it, cause it’s just so innocently “I just really like the series and still think it’s good”. That I’d be confused why people would think I have a vendetta against everyone else. I’ve never been like, straight up offended more than once over the specific topic of Red Robin. But it is a thing that makes me like “I’ll get so many people giving me crap over having a different opinion for this won’t I”. And get some people trying to validate just being a bit of a fucker to me for no good reason.

So like, may or may not write a Red Robin review, but I might not cause despite quite a few people in the Tim fandom being quite chill about it, there’s quite a lot of people that are low-key toxic about it, and a lot of bad fandom things came out of it as well.

[ivarswickedqueen]

Hello darkness, my old friend

This story is dedicate to my friend @walkxthexmoon​​ as a very late birthday present 😘 It’s modern day AU where Ivar and Roman are vampires 😏

The moodboard was made by talented @flowers-in-your-hayr​​

As always English isn’t my first language and this is my first time writing for Bill/Roman so I hope it doesn’t suck too much... 

Warning: swearing, killing, oral sex, definitely 18+ 

Word account: 2246

Paring: Ivar x reader, Roman x reader

„I should go home“ you thought to yourself. You lost your friend Julia somewhere in the crowd. As you knew her, she will text you any minute, saying that she met a cute boy and you should not wait for her. Fucking typical. She was having fun and you were sitting here all alone sipping your beer and being bored. Unlike you friend you weren’t the biggest fan of one-night stands, plus there was nobody here who caught your attention tonight. Well, it wasn’t exactly true. You saw your two hot neighbors Ivar and Roman when you and Julia came here two hours earlier, but you wouldn’t dare to start anything with them. They were dangerous; people were avoiding them and their house. Nobody knew what they did for a living, but they both seemed very rich, so it probably was something illegal, because you have never seen them leave their house during the daytime hours. All of your friends told you to stay away from them and to never forget to lock your house at night. You felt that danger and mystery radiating from them too, but unlike your friends you felt yourself being drew to them like a mouth to a flame. You kept your distance, because you listened to your brain which was telling you to stay away from them, but your heart wanted to knock on that dark red door of their house and see what will happen next. And it seemed that they also noticed you. Sometimes you found Ivar looking at you, his deep blue eyes burning holes into you, his soft lips were smirking, but his smile was cruel, almost mocking, but you found it very sexy. Every time when he caught you staring at him, his smirk grew bigger and you felt your heart pumping in your chest. And sometimes it seemed to you like if he could hear it, which was extremely stupid thought. Tonight you felt Roman staring at you from across the room. His green eyes never left your figure, eyeing you from head to toe, making you shiver and blush deeply. He looked like a predator watching his little innocent prey, making it feel at ease before snapping its neck and having it for dinner. Later you noticed him talking with some petite blond girl and judging by that amazed look on her face, Roman would get lucky tonight. You couldn’t help yourself and felt jealous, which was stupid, considering that you never even talked to him in person. You groaned and tried to find him again, but he was nowhere to be seen. He probably already left with that blond girl and you will hear her moans and screams from their house later tonight. It always made you so angry when you could hear the girls screaming their names. You looked around again, trying to find a glimpse of Ivar, but you didn’t see him anywhere. Maybe he left with Roman and the girl, you knew that they had threesomes with the girls, because sometimes you heard the girls calling both of their names.

“I need a cigarette” you thought to yourself and went outside to the dark alley next to the club. You lighted your cigarette and but almost dropped it, when you looked to your right. You saw Roman leaning against the cold wall, his eyes closed and that petite girl kneeling in front of him and giving him a blowjob. You were shocked. Of course this dark place was a hiding spot for a lot of horny couples, but you did not expect to find Roman here. You couldn’t force yourself to stop staring at him. He was so gorgeous, so relaxed, the girl was definitely making him feel good. You should have turn around and leave before he will notice you, but you couldn’t. As always you felt the need to get closer to him, you wanted to yank the girl by her hair and tear her away from him. You suddenly wanted to be the one whose mouth was warming up his cock, you wanted to feel his hand in your hair, guiding you to suck him in the way he likes it, making you choke on his dick, feeling his cum dripping down your throat. It was like if he hypnotized you even though his eyes were still closed.

“See something you like, doll?” a deep voice whispered into your ear and you gasped in shock. You wanted to turn around but you felt strong arm wrapped around your waist and another around your neck.

“Don’t be afraid, doll. I won’t hurt you. Tell me, my cute little neighbor, do you enjoy watching my buddy Roman getting his cock sucked by that slut?” he asked darkly and squeezed your neck.

You felt like if you lost your sanity, because you should be scared shitless, but you felt aroused by the proximity of Ivar’s body, his dirty talk and his hand around your neck.

“I am not watching him, I came here to smoke a cigarette,” you pathetically tried to defend yourself.

“You mean this one?” he asked smugly and pointed at your cigarette which at some point slipped from your fingers and was lying on the dirty pavement.

“It was an accident, I didn’t mean to interrupt anything” you tried again.

“Don’t make any more excuses, doll. Maybe your previous intention was to smoke here, but it changed pretty quickly,” he chuckled and you shivered.

“You were thinking how much you would like to be on your knees in front of him, don’t you?” he said and your heart started beating so fast.

“No-o-o!!” you stuttered.

“Liar,” Ivar whispered and his lips touched your ear, this little contact with his skin made your knees go weak and your back leaned closer against his chest.

“Don’t lie to me, doll, I don’t like it,” he warned you while his sinful lips left your ear and moved to your neck.

“Ivar,” you moaned, when he started placing open mouth kisses on your exposed neck, making him smirk against your skin.

“I see, that you know my name,” he noted and kept kissing your neck, bruising the sensitive skin, occasionally biting down on it to make you moan his name again.

“You shouldn’t do this!!” you tried to protest weakly when you felt his strong hand slowly sneaking into your skirt.

“Says who?” he sassed.

“I can smell that your pussy is dripping wet for me, just relax doll. I have very skillful fingers,” he bragged and you were so distracted that you didn’t pay much attention to his confession that he could "smell" you.

“I also have a very skillful tongue, but you will find out later, because unlike that bitch over there, I won’t kneel down on that dirty ground,” he added and his fingers slipped into your panties.

“As I said, you are wet as fuck, doll!!” he said victoriously. And you cried out when his fingers found your clit, and started playing with it slowly. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from moaning loudly when he increased the pressure on your little bud and started rubbing it faster. You quickly looked at Roman but his eyes were still closed and he seemed to be lost in his own pleasure. Somehow Ivar knew that you took a quick glance at Roman and as his long fingers slipped into your dripping pussy he said “his eyes might be closed but he knows about you since the moment you walked out of that door, doll”.

 You forget about Ivar for a second and looked again at Roman, but this time his eyes were half opened and he was staring at you with that predatory look in his eyes. You were completely lost in the greens of his eyes, and Ivar noticed that and he didn’t like it one bit.

He bit harder down on your neck, you could have sworn that he drew blood, but you felt like if you were high; then his fingers started pumping into you in fast pace, making you roll your eyes in pure pleasure. You shamelessly moaned his name when you came all over his fingers, you turned around and kissed him, definitely feeling a taste of blood on his lips, but you didn’t care. You felt sudden rush of joy and happiness, and you couldn’t get enough of him. You were climbing him like a tree, ready to start tearing off his clothes. You heard a loud thud behind you, but you didn’t pay it much attention. Roman snapped that girl neck and tossed her aside. He came closer to you and Ivar and tore you away from his friend angrily.

“Why the fuck did you bit her, you asshole!” he growled and you whimpered because he interrupted your kissing fest with Ivar.

“Because I fucking wanted to,” Ivar said and licked his lips.

“She tastes so sweet, Roman. Exactly how she smells - sweet but spicy. There is definitely something about this girl,” he added and smirked at Roman’s pissed of face.

“Relax, it was only a small bite. It will wear off quickly,” but Roman still looked like if he wanted to kill someone, probably his best friend.

“We had a deal!” he growled.

“Yes we had, but it was before you let that blondie suck your dick and left our little neighbor all alone here. She was so lonely, I had to give her company!”

“Yes sure, you are such a great gentleman, Ivar,” he snorted and grabbed your hand.

“Come here, princess,” he pulled you closer to him and grabbed your chin and made you look at him, when you tried to look at Ivar again and you pouted your lips when Roman didn’t let you do it.

“You want Ivar so much, because he bit you, princess. Vampire bites send endorphins through your body. It’s like if you took a very powerful drug. It makes our victims willing to go with us wherever we want them to go without screaming,” he smirked at you when you finally started to process his words. You realized that only two feet away from you lay the girl who was sucking his dick earlier. She was motionless, she seemed… dead. You looked at Roman in horror and you wanted to run away from him, but he was holding you firmly in his arms.

“I think, doll, that it’s only fair for me to have a bite,” he smirked and he looked like angel of death, beautiful but deadly.

“Please don’t kill me!” you begged him, but he laughed.

“Oh, no, princess. We won’t kill you. At least not tonight. We have a lot of things prepared for you at our house. We were watching you for a very long time! We will have so much fun together, princess. But enough talking, I want to taste your blood that smells so deliciously,” he said but he didn’t go straight for your neck, he kissed you first. That kiss was possessive, dominant, his tongue slipped into your mouth while he wrapped his long white hand around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You didn’t know if you were still dazed by Ivar’s bite or if you were completely mental, but you slowly relaxed and melted into his arms, kissing him back hungrily, pulling at his shirt to pull him closer to you since he was much taller than you.

“Such a good little girl,” Roman praised you and you felt your pussy clenched. He started kissing down your throat, his long skinny fingers running up and down your sides, making you shiver when he touched the sides of your boobs.

“Roman,” you moaned desperately and he chuckled while Ivar rolled his eyes.

“Can you hurry, I want to go home.”

“You had your time with her, it’s my turn now,” he said while looking into your eyes, slowly putting his leg between yours, making your already sensitive pussy rubbing against the denim of his jeans. You gasped, when his strong arms grabbed your waist and started sliding you up and down his leg, making you ride it. You felt your second orgasm coming quickly.

“Look at Ivar, princess,” Roman commanded and you obeyed him. Ivar watched you with mixture of jealousy, anger, possessiveness and greed in his blue eyes.

“I want you to keep looking into his eyes when you cum, princess. I could feel that you are very close. Can you do that for me?” he asked and you nodded, unable to say anything coherent. It only took few more movements and you came, moaning Roman’s name, rolling your eyes when he bit down at the other side of your neck, missing the pissed off look on Ivar’s face.

“Come here, doll,” Ivar grabbed your hand and sink his teeth into the wound he already made earlier

“Hey, you asshole, don’t drink too much, she will be too weak and no fun. And we want her to stay with us for as long as possible,” he smirked and bumped into his friend shoulder.  

“She will never leave our house again,” Ivar smirked and they both take your hands in theirs and slowly led you towards their home and you were smiling happily, high as a kite, looking at both of them with love sick eyes, knowing that you were always tempted by darkness and tonight that darkness finally found you.

#ivar the boneless #Roman Godfrey #alex høgh andersen #bill skarsgard #Ivar x Roman #bill skarsgård

[ch4nb4ng]

Can We Share ?

Pairings: Chan x fem reader x changbin

word count: 2.2k

Genre: smut, fwb

Warning: oral sex, shower sex, intercourse, threesome

Request: Could I pls have a smut where reader ends up hooking up with fwb/Changbin in Chan's room and Chan catches them? You can do whatever your pretty little heart desire afterwards hehehe

“ugh, god changbin,” you moaned, enjoying the way he took you from behind, hand pulling on your hair, “you know just how to fuck me don’t you?”

“of course i do,” changbin groaned, “fuck you feel so fucking good- i’m gonna cum soon.”

“me too, i’m so fucking close changbin- make me cum.”

“just a little longer,” he grunted, letting his thrusts become sloppy.

“y/n?”

“yeah?”

changbin suddenly came to a halt. slightly frustrated, you turned around to ask him what happened, but then the problem had been spotted.

“oh shit,” you mumbled, falling off the bed, and covering yourself with the clothes trailing across the floor, “hey.”

“hello y/n, is it?”

chan nervously coughed, “what are you doing here?”

“well,” you nervously laughed, coming out in a high pitch tone , “i had no idea you were going to be home early.”

turning your head to changbin, a pained smile appeared on your lips.

“early? care to explain, changbin?”

“chan, why didn’t you tell me you were going to be home early?” changbin mumbled, obvious annoyance in his voice. 

“i did, bro,” chan replied awkwardly, “i thought you would have checked your phone, but i guess you were um... busy- uh, yeah, anyways! i’m gonna watch some TV, bye!”

grabbing your panties, you slowly slid them up your legs. you then paused. this was the first time you had ever met any of changbin’s roommates, and god, was he attractive.

“I’m sorry y/n-”

“that’s chan?”

changbin’s eyebrows furrowed, “yeah?”

“he’s kinda hot.”

you paused, trying to see whether or not the look of confusion on his face would change.

you then continued by saying, “damn, i’d fuck him if we weren’t, you know.”

changbin’s face of confusion turned into a smirk. reclipping your bra, you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for changbin to answer your left field remark.

“so, why don’t you play with both of us.. at the same time?”

you swallowed nervously.

“at the s-same time?” you stuttered, nerves beginning to take over your body. you were ‘no innocent little girl’, but you had never tried something like this before. clenching your thighs together, you closed your eyes, already feeling the arousal slowly creep back into your body.

“yeah,” changbin smiled, “but if you aren’t comfortable-”

“i’ll do it,” you blurted out, “let’s do it right now.”

A smirk returning back to his face, he walked out of the room, checking to see where chan was. he scoffed, ‘so predictable’ he thought. making his way back to you, he said nothing, grabbing your wrist, and pinning you up against the closest wall.

“okay, so-” changbin whispered, gently dragging his fingertips up and down your arms, “he’s working on some music on the dinner table. let’s go into the kitchen and put a show on for him.”

biting down on your bottom lip, goosebumps raising on your skin. changbin’s touch had never been so delicate before. nodding in agreement, he grabbed your wrist, dragging you into the kitchen. looking up from his computer, chan gave you a small nod, trying to somewhat avert your gaze.

finally dragging you to the kitchen, changbin smirked, drawing playful circles on your waist before slamming you against the kitchen counter. attaching his lips to you, your eyes fell closed, letting his tongue sneak into your mouth, temperature in your body already rising. changbin smiled against your lips as the small moan danced across his tongue.

“sit on the counter, babygirl.”

hoisting yourself up, you moved changbin’s hand to your neck, pushing your back flat against the countertop. lifting up your skirt, he chuckled, aware of your neediness as he examined the wet patch on your panties.

“What the fuck are you guys doing?”

“chan come on,” he hissed, “i can see your boner from a mile away.”

a nervous cough passed from chan’s lips.

“come on, channie,” you moaned, feeling changbin’s fingertips run along your inner thighs, “give me a turn.”

chan bit down hard on his bottom lip, confliction evidently shadowing his face. slowly beginning to make his way over, your arousal consuming you deeper, loving the way you had two boys wanting you. slipping a hand into his boxers set off something in you. your arousal was increasing by the second, lust on the rise. rapidly discarding your shirt, changbin made his way back up to your lips, enjoying the feeling of how you melted against his touch. a soft groan escaped your lips. the feeling of changbin’s already hardened cock grinding against you was divine, but the way chan was holding back his moans, covering himself up from you was absolutely exquisite. it was to die for.

“chan,” you begged while changbin continued his playful assault on your left nipple, “do you want to touch me?”

the look of mortification on his face was priceless. ‘so precious,’ you thought, ‘i could ruin him in seconds.” he was hesitant, almost like he was waiting for changbin’s approval- of what seemed to be his territory. giving him the look, he turned around, notching chan’s frigid state.

“you heard her,” changbin growled, “do what she says.”

once you were close enough to him, you pulled on his stretchy waistband, dragging him next to your body. pushing changbin off for a moment, you sat up, placing your hand on top of chan’s head and pushing him down to his knees, to level him with where you wanted him.

spreading your legs open, chan gave you one more look, making you blink a few times. the colour of his eyes completely changed. what once was a soft, innocent brown, became a pure black. veins popping out of his neck, hands leaving his pants and spreading your legs completely open. a wave of excitement overcame you. changbin watched with intense concentration. his favorite part was when chan stuck out two fingers, watching you suck on them with vigorous conviction. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as chan spread your pussy lips, barely touching your clit with his soaked fingers.

“mhm,” you moaned, letting your tongue roll between your teeth, “you have such good hands baby.” he chuckled, satisfied by your sudden response to his reactions. pushing a bit deeper, chan continued to tease, sliding his fingertips up and down your opening. unbuckling his trousers, changbin’s hard-on became prominent. hands traveling to his clothed cock, he couldn’t help but smirk, enjoying the way your body reacted to chan.

“you like that, babygirl?” changbin growled, voice getting deeper by the second, “tell me princess, use your words.”

“it feels so good,” you stifled, feeling the sudden wet contact of chan’s tongue slipping into you, “love the way his tongue feels in my pussy. s-so good.” seeing you like this was changbin’s favorite sight. he began to stroke himself, now able to imagine the way you two would look from an outside perspective. leaning over, you looked up at changbin, eyes wide and innocent as your mouth landed on his tip, lips covered in his saltiness.

“you like the taste?”

“mhm,” you hummed against him, the vibration running down changbin’s legs. the look of pleasure on his face sent you into another dimension. wrapping your lips completely around him, your head began to bob, taking in his full length, eagerness to keep that look of satisfaction on his face. simultaneously choking on changbin’s cock, while moaning at the way chan’s tongue flicked against your clit was making you slowly lose your sanity. the all too familiar knot already began to build in your stomach as chan kept an unforgiving pace, letting his hands continuously roam your body.

“ahh,” chan growled, replacing his tongue with his fingers, “don’t you love how wet i made you?”

“mhm,” you groaned against changbin’s cock. taking him out of your mouth, he groaned, enjoying the mixture of saliva and cum messily dripping from your chin, showering you in spurts. using both of your hands, you gasped, hearing the inhumane sounds that began to uncontrollably fall from his mouth.

“fuck, that’s so hot,” you mumble, turning to chan, “i’m so wet for you baby.” 

“I know you are.” 

reaching down into his own pants, a low groan left his lips, hitting your now extremely sensitive spot, making your legs shake. grabbing your wrist, changbin walked away from you, wanting a nice view of chan completely devouring your pussy. giving chan a light tap on his shoulder, he stood up, aching for this view of you. desperate, needy, and flustered.

“look at you,” chan smirked, lightly groping himself, “you look so pretty with changbin’s cum dripping down your neck and pretty tits. i think we need to clean you up.” sitting up, your ears perked, loving the idea of them rinsing you and feeling you up. grabbing your wrist, changbin let you off the counter, dragging you to the bathroom. a groan escaped your lips, enjoying the way the steamy droplets of water cascaded down your body. both of the boys, now fully naked, crept behind the glass and strategically placing themselves against you. chan in front of you, changbin behind you. a blush began to adorn your cheeks, feeling their lengths pressed up against you. small groans escaped changbin as you reached behind your back and started to stroke his length. you continued to sloppily make out with chan at the same time. smirking against chan’s needy lips, he smiled, stroking himself before grabbing your by the waist and pressing you up against the glass frame. chest pressed against the icey glass, you gasped heavily, aggressively biting down on your bottom lip as you felt chan and changbin’s leaky tips slide up and down your folds. 

“fucking hell,” you grumbled, “ just fuck me already.”

“ah ah,” chan replied, “ask us again nicely, or you won’t get anything.”

a whine escaped your lips, “please, please fuck me.”

you wanted to scream as they continued to tease you. everything was starting to heat up, including your blood level once chan began to push in, a loud groan of relief coming from you. changbin grabbed your hair, wrapping it up in a ponytail and pushing your head back. your eyes were wide open, enjoying the way chan’s girth completely filled you up, tits pushing into the steaming glass with each thrust. you could see changbin right next to you, happily stroking himself at the sight, lips ghosting over your shoulder blade. turning your head, you grabbed his chin, pushing him up and slamming your lips against his. tongues fighting each other as the muscles in your boy began to tense. passion filling chan’s body as he slammed into you, in a consistent rhythmic movement.

“god chan,” you grumbled, slowly losing control of your body, giving into his touch.

“tell me how it feels baby,” he growled, pressing up against you, nose digging into your ear, “how does my cock feel inside of you?”

“you feel so good baby,” you whimper, feeling your high coming, “i love the way your cock fills me up.”

His thrusts started to become sloppy. you chuckled, he was close, you could feel his cock twitching. you clenched around him, feeling his jaw clench at the sudden but intense feeling. changbin smirked. he knew you so well. you were close too. it was his favorite sight. seeing you completely wrecked , mascara smothered across your cheeks, knees shaking. it was almost enough to just tip him over the edge. reaching down to grab your waist, he looked up at you,

“look at you,” he whispered, “you’re about to come undone.”

“pfft,” you scoffed, “not even close.”

he rolled his eyes, slightly frustrated by your stubbornness. taking his hand off your hips, he smirked as he began to flick at your clit, making your hands smash against the glass frame. 

“look at you,” chan hissed, lips fixated on your lobe, “so weak from our touch. do you wanna cum?”

“yeah i do.”

“yeah?”

“yes, please!”

“cum all over my cock princess.”

his words drive you over the edge, a large groan coming from you as your body completely gave way. you were in shock. changbin was dominant, but you never came just from his words. he laughed, continuing to flick your clit, making you lose any sense of control you had over yourself, body beginning to shake under him. falling to your knees, you bit down on your lip, watching changbin and chan stroke themselves in all their glory. wet hair sticking to their faces, both tangled in a drenched mess, an ache began to form at your core. you were so sensitive, anything, especially this view of two men about to cum because of you could tip you over the edge once again.

“are you waiting for our cum?”

“mhm,” you poured, looking up at them with innocent eyes.

“look at you on your knees,” changbin growled, “such a good girl, so pretty for us.”

opening your mouth, you closed your eyes, letting their hot spurts decorate your face, coating your entire face and chest. scooping the excess cum, you sucked your finger into your mouth, excessively sucking on it. struggling to catch your breath, you stood up, both giving them a kiss on the cheek.

“i could get used to this kind of arrangement.”

#chan smut #bang chan smut #smut #kpop smut #stray kids #stray kids smut #stray kids fic #seo changbin #changbin #seo changbin smut #changbin smut #changbin x reader #bang chan x reader #changbin x reader x bangchan