#all my seats are heated and every bite i take is perfectly cooked

[dainix-suggestions]

hi dainix. on a scale from one to ten much much does tearing into a rotisserie chicken with nothing but your bare hands sound rn

I wasn't able to eat the bug I was roasting so dare I say splendid

[sixosix]

a/n this fic is written for art @aanobrain hope u enjoy it art!!!! even tho i swear its ooc T__T </333

warnings 1k words, suggestive, gojo appears, reader is a mess

aka, nanami cooking with sleeves rolled up fic.

you were almost convinced you were dreaming.

the sweet smell of good cooking has you salivating and springing upright from the bed without a second to waste. but that’s not right, because if you’re wrapped up in a warm blanket and not in the kitchen, who’s…?

you squint, belatedly perceiving that this is not your bed, and you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes.

and this is definitely not your door, or your living room, or your kitchen. you don’t even have a roommate; the man slicing radish with precise speed would also definitely not be yours, even though you now wish that was the case.

the creak of the floorboard has him pausing slightly, glancing at you. your gaze gets caught on his high cheekbones, then his sharp stare.

“good morning. i’m—y/n,” you blurt. maybe you could’ve started with, who are you and why am i not in my home?

“nanami,” he says, still staring as you fidget on your spot. much to your relief, he shifts his focus back to the cutting board when you shift uncomfortably.

“there’s miso soup on the table. it’s gotten cold,” nanami says without looking up from his work. “you wake up late.”

“i’m sorry…?”

as he’s mentioned, there’s a bowl on two sides of two chairs.

cautiously, as if nanami would scold you for the slightest wrong movement, you settle in one seat. the chair is cold and uncomfortable; you’re sure your mother has the same table set back home, yet this one looks like it was never touched when bought. never used.

“thank you for the food,” you murmur, mostly to yourself. your voice is drowned out by the knife hitting the cutting board.

the aroma from the miso soup is fresh and stronger than what you’re used to cooking up, but that was because you sometimes forget to turn off the heat before it boils. at first glance, you wouldn’t have assumed nanami would be talented in cooking. you’d think, with his figure, he’s out there posing for magazines and getting hand-fed by maids. but you suppose you were judging from the cover, because nanami has managed to perfect even the tiny details of scent and spice.

your eyes follow as nanami finishes chopping radish, his sleeves loose around his wrist. the way he moves around the kitchen—sliding to the sink, focused solely on what’s in front of him, giving you a proper view of his broad back—makes it look like he’s barely lifting a finger.

“this is good,” you whisper, wanting to get it off your chest without bothering nanami. but he still hears it, acknowledging it with a glance.

you take a sip, humming appreciatively at the taste, and then inhale on the wrong pipe when nanami rolls his sleeves up with his freshly washed hands. they’ve gone a shade darker from the water, which doesn’t help at all—not when it seeps and sticks against his forearms.

you’re coughing uncontrollably. he looks mildly concerned.

“i’m fine, i’m fine!” your face is burning, and you’re unmistakably not fine.

he gives you a glass of water, all while you pointedly stare at your miso soup. the ripples from your choking and slamming on the table feel like they’re poking fun at you.

not long after, nanami comes to the table with a plate of perfectly sliced rolled omelettes. you’ve already finished your miso soup, and you feel guilty that his has gone cold while cooking, but you don’t feel as bad when you take a bite of the food he’s prepared.

you groan reverently. “this is what you eat every morning?” you’re so, so unbelievably jealous.

“no,” nanami says, settling on the seat across yours. the domesticity nearly has you shaking. “i usually pick up breakfast on the way to work.”

but he stayed in to cook for you. you swoon internally.

“mayo,” he says, sliding his plate over to you. his forearms are still on display, and they’re very legit.

“did you assume i wouldn’t have slipped out?” you muse. “bold assumption. i don’t usually stick around long.”

“you were in no condition to ‘slip out’ even if you wanted to,” nanami says simply, eyes flicking up to yours. “and you must be getting the wrong idea. nothing happened.”

“what.”

“i slept on the couch.” there’s a ghost of a smile on his face—it must be from your befuddled expression. “last night, you went up to me. you told me you weren’t drunk, and then you passed out on me. you had no one else with you, so i figured i'd let you rest.”

“ah… ha. did you now?” you feel profoundly unsexy at the moment, especially on behalf of the night before.

“you were persuasive.”

you straighten, sticking your nose out to regain a bit of pride. “i prefer charming.”

“insistent,” nanami corrects, yet he gives you the last roll of omelette.

“thanks for taking care of me,” you say, bowing repeatedly, hoping that’d convey at least half of what you’re feeling. “and for not being creepy.”

“you don’t have to thank me for that,” nanami says dryly.

“oh ho, nanamin!” a new voice enters the conversation. nanami’s jaw ticks. “nanamin, nanamin, you rascal!” how did he get here without either of you noticing?

“gojo-san.” the man with a blindfold and white hair sticking out in all high angles grins wolfishly. “i wasn’t warned you’d be coming over.” nanami faces you, almost apologetically, “excuse me, gojo-san is just here to get something. run, if you need to.”

“sorry?”

“you’re so funny, nanamin. it’s good to catch you off guard, especially for moments like this,” gojo calls out as nanami walks back inside, not bothering to entertain him with a response. gojo then sizes you up. “who’re you?”

“me?” you briefly forgot that you’re still in the same hallway as them. “oh, i’m no one. no one you should worry about. who are you?”

gojo grins. “definitely not nanamin’s one-night stand.”

“i’m not even!” you exclaim, face hot. the guy narrows his eyes suspiciously, checking your face in various angles. and then your disappointingly empty neck. “i swear, i’m not. no hickeys or anything, see? he took care of me when i was blackout drunk, apparently.”

“and he didn’t kick you out as soon as you woke up?”

“...no? would you do that?”

gojo nods, more so to himself. “i see. so it’s already deeper than a one-night stand.”

“what?”

“he wants a piece of whatever you’re baking.”

“...?”

“gojo-san, stop tormenting my guest,” nanami says flatly, tossing a paper bag onto gojo’s face. it doesn’t quite hit him, instead sliding off. “please leave. i don’t need you here.”

“oh-ho,” gojo says mischievously. “i was going to be nice and make sure you’re not lonely coming to work, but it seems there’s already someone doing that to you, huuhh?” nanami doesn’t reply, pointedly setting his heavy gaze on you instead. gojo pouts. “oh, fine. don’t forget protection!”

nanami glances to the side as gojo skips off. he pulls out his phone and presents it to you, his low voice reverberating in your ears in the silence of the halls. “put your number in my phone.”

“um, why?” you ask suspiciously, yet still do as you’re told. nanami seems like the last guy on earth to have malicious intentions anyway. and you do owe him for this. “are you feeding me again?”

“to make up for what could’ve happened that night.”

[madstheauthor]

Don’t Call Me Aaron

Part 4

WORDS: 2.1K

{TW: SMUT}

Once we made it back to my place, Hotch got out first and walked over to my side to open the door for me. I couldn't help the heat that arose on my cheeks as I hopped out of the car. We walked into the hotel together and up the stairs to my room.

When we got inside Hotchner told me to just sit down and relax and he would take care of everything. I took a seat in one of the chairs in the kitchen and admired him while he cooked. I was surprised we even had enough food for him to make something with, but I'm not complaining.

I noticed almost immediately that he had taken his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. I found myself staring at his arms while he cooked. How was I supposed to ignore how hot he looked right now. I mean the small amount of sweat on his forehead from leaning over the stove, the way his muscly hands grabbed everything while he worked. Even the way his brows scrunched because of how hard he was concentrating on what he was doing. Everything about him was suddenly, so attractive. I didn't even realize I was biting my lip until Hotch called me out.

"Why are you staring at me?" he asked, his eyebrows now raised in suspicion, but his mouth was curved into a slight smile.

"I'm admiring you." I decided to be blunt about it, because what was the point of beating around the bush? I liked him, and I'm pretty sure he liked me.

"Well I hope you like what you see." he said, lowly this time.

"Oh I do. I can hardly look away. I"m surprised you haven't burnt whatever it is that you're cooking over there." I said through a small laugh. He quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure the food in the stove wasn’t burnt, causing me to laugh even harder.

“You have an amazing laugh, you know.” He told me with that smile that is so rare, but so beautiful.

“Thank you, Hotch. You know I was just thinking how nice your smile was too. I wish I saw it more often.” I told him.

“Well maybe you will.”he said as he walked over to the stove, turning it off. “Okay, everything is ready. Here let me make your plate.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I tried to tell him, standing up to walk over to him.

“No, I will do it. After all, it’s your birthday.” He smiled with a hint of something behind it, I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, though.

We sat down and began eating together, but I couldn't focus on my food. My mind kept wandering somewhere that it for sure shouldn't be. Somewhere that was surely inappropriate.

“What’s the matter?” Hotch asked, and out his fork down.

“Nothing.” I said, looking away from him. I bit my lip hard to try and stop the redness on my cheeks.

“Stop that.” He said, and I quickly look up at him, confused. I immediately noticed how dark his eyes had become.

“Stop what?” I asked him.

“Biting your lip.”he started. “I can’t handle it.”

“What?”

“Listen to me. I’ve done everything I possibly can to keep my thoughts about you professional, but I can’t if you don’t stop.” He breathes, quickly, like he had been holding on to this and needed to get it out.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I had to hear him say it to be sure.

“I want you, so bad. In every way I possibly can.” He says, standing from the table. “I want to lay you down on the bed and kiss you places no one has before. I want to make you feel so good you can stand it. I want to fuck you so hard you can barely walk and then take you out on a date after. I want everything with you, and more.” He finishes, standing right beside me now.

“Then do it. I won’t stop you.” I tell him, standing up to meet his eyes. And finally, he places a hand on my back and pulls me close to him with a gentle force I’d never seen before.

He leans in and captures my lips in one swift movement. Our mouths mold together perfectly and move in sync. His hands start roaming my body and he makes his way to my ass and gives in a good squeeze which earns a groan from me.

“Mmm.” He replies to me. “I love the way you taste.”

We walk over to the bed never breaking from each other. He backs me up close until I fall back, hitting the mattress. He pushes my shirt up slowly, making sure to feel every inch of my skin along the way. Once he’s got my shirt just over my bra, he breaks from me to kiss a trail up my stomach, leaving little bites along the way until he makes it to my breasts.

“Can I take this off of you, please.” He pleads. I respond by quickly nodding. Lifting myself off the bed just enough for him to get my shirt over my head.

Once it’s off, he immediately attacks my neck. Leaving bites that will surely show tomorrow, but I definitely don’t care. I let out an involuntary moan from the feeling and he reacts with a low growl, vibrating the skin on my collarbone.

Without asking, I unhook my bra and throw it across the floor in a swift motion. Aaron sits quietly for a moment, admiring my perky breasts with lustful eyes.

I reach toward Aaron to help him get his shirt off, and then reach for his belt buckle, making sure to do it extra slow. I slowly sink off the bed and onto the floor where I am eye level with his waist.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells me, looking down.

“Shhhh, let me make you feel good, Aaron.” I whisper, putting an emphasis on his first name.

“Fuck.” He moaned as I slowly pulled down his slacks, revealing a large tent under the thin fabric.

I start to remove his boxers but he stops me, pulling me back up to kiss me again.

“Me first.” He tell me and takes off my pants as fast as he can.

He throws me on the bed and climbs towards me like he’s hunting, and I’m his prey.

He puts his hand to my heat, barely rubbing his fingers against the my clothed clit. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, I so badly needed more.

“Aaron, please.” I breathe.

“What is it baby? Tell me what you want.” He says, removing his hand, making me whimper from the loss of contact.

“I want you.” I tell him, hoping he doesn’t make me say anything else.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want to see you touch yourself.” He says, sitting back on the bed to watch me.

I slowly bring my hand down to my clothes entrance, gathering my arousal and bringing it to my mouth, putting my fingers in my mouth and sucking.

“Fuck. Oh my god.” Aaron says, “keep going.”

I bring my hand back and begin moving my fingers in a circular motion, just like I always did when I was alone, thinking about him. I start to moan as I pick up my pace. I close my eyes from the pleasure overtaking my whole body.

Before I even realized, Aaron is ripping my underwear off me and pushing his face in between my thighs, lapping up the moisture that’s surrounds my core.

“Fuck, Aaron!” I yell bucking my hips to get more friction from his tongue. He holds my hips in place and teases me, licking everywhere but where I wanted him to be.

“Not so fast, beautiful. I want to make this last. I want to take my time with you.” He tells me, bringing his face back between my legs, still holding on to my hips.

“I need more Aaron, please.” I said, hoping he answers my plea. I can’t take much more.

“Come here.” He tells me, bringing my face back to he, locking my lips with his. Making sure I taste myself on him.

“Aaron, I feel so empty.” I breathe. And thankfully he finally shows me mercy. He takes off his boxers, his cock springing to life, at attention. God he’s big.

“Come here baby.” He says, and I scoot towards the edge of the bed and quickly take as much of him as I can into my mouth, earning a beautiful groan from him.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy with my cock down your throat. I bet you’ve been dreaming about this hmm.” He says, and I can feel my core spilling from his words.

“Yes, Aaron, I’ve wanted this for so long.” I tell him, quickly taking him back into my mouth, sucking in my cheeks to make him moan.

“You have no idea the dirty things I’ve been thinking about you. I haven’t been able to focus in weeks. All I have thought about was your tight pussy and how it would feel with my cock buried inside it.” He forces out in between moans.

“Why don’t you find out then.” I tell him, getting back on my feet. He turns me around and pushes my head onto the bed so that my ass is in the air.

“Oh I intend to.” He says, teasing my entrance with his aching manhood.

He slowly pushes himself inside me, giving me time to adjust to his size. Once he’s all the way in, he pauses for a moment, and then pulls out, only to slam himself all the way back in.

“Fuck Aaron. Yes!” I scream. He starts picking up the pace, completely tearing me apart, and I am loving every second.

“That’s it baby, take all of me like such a good girl.” He moans. He snakes his arm around my leg to thumb at my clit, and I can’t take it.

“Yes, fuck hotch, I’m gonna cum. Please dont stop.” I replied. And him immediately pulls out. I can’t hold in the whine that escapes me from the emptiness he leaves.

“Turn over on to your back.” He tells me. I do as he says and he lays back on top of me, bringing his cock back and lining himself up. He pushes back in and it’s painfully slow.

“Aaron” I cry.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name.” He breathes, slowly picking up the pace until I’m a moaning mess.

He starts pounding in to me so hard I can’t speak. I want to but it feels so good I can’t even think of a way to describe it. I slowly start to feel my release creeping though my body.

“Aaron, please let me cum. Please.” I plead. My words fueling the fire growing in him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” He whispers in my ear, thumbing at my clit until my orgasm washes over me, making me whole body shake. He continues to slam until me until I’m crying, screaming, and yelling his name.

“Fuck aaron, holy shit, please, cum in me.” I scream. And he continues to fuck me at an ungodly pace, I can’t feel my body anymore, but I don’t care.

I finally feel the warmth of his release fill me as he sloppily continues to fuck me. After a few more thrusts he pulls out. But I wasn’t finished yet. I somehow manage to get onto the floor and bring his dripping cock back into my mouth.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” I hear him moan through my harsh sucking. I swirl my tongue around his tip, making sure to take is slow.

I take him as much of him back into my mouth again but Aaron needed more. He puts his hand on the back of my head, pushing him even further into my mouth, until my nose touches his pelvis. He holds my head there until I start to gag before letting me go. He’s extra sensitive since he just came. I continue to suck and let his hand push my head to take all of him.

“Shit, fuck, I’m gonna cum again.” He moans and that only makes me suck harder. A few seconds later, his seed is spilling down my throat, and I make sure to swallow every last drop, sticking my tongue out to show him.

“You’re amazing.” He tells me before giving me a living kiss.

“Not as amazing as you.” I tell him. And he smirks through is heavy breathing. We lay on the bed together, until we catch our breath. Right before I got up to get dressed, he stops me.

“Call me Aaron anytime.”

[sadisticallyspencer]

Don’t Call Me Aaron

Part 4:

WORDS: 2.1K

{TW: SMUT}

Once we made it back to my place, Hotch got out first and walked over to my side to open the door for me. I couldn’t help the heat that arose on my cheeks as I hopped out of the car. We walked into the hotel together and up the stairs to my room.

When we got inside Hotchner told me to just sit down and relax and he would take care of everything. I took a seat in one of the chairs in the kitchen and admired him while he cooked. I was surprised we even had enough food for him to make something with, but I’m not complaining.

I noticed almost immediately that he had taken his suit jacket off and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up. I found myself staring at his arms while he cooked. How was I supposed to ignore how hot he looked right now. I mean the small amount of sweat on his forehead from leaning over the stove, the way his muscly hands grabbed everything while he worked. Even the way his brows scrunched because of how hard he was concentrating on what he was doing. Everything about him was suddenly, so attractive. I didn’t even realize I was biting my lip until Hotch called me out.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, his eyebrows now raised in suspicion, but his mouth was curved into a slight smile.

“I’m admiring you.” I decided to be blunt about it, because what was the point of beating around the bush? I liked him, and I’m pretty sure he liked me.

“Well I hope you like what you see.” he said, lowly this time.

“Oh I do. I can hardly look away. I"m surprised you haven’t burnt whatever it is that you’re cooking over there.” I said through a small laugh. He quickly looked over his shoulder to make sure the food in the stove wasn’t burnt, causing me to laugh even harder.

“You have an amazing laugh, you know.” He told me with that smile that is so rare, but so beautiful.

“Thank you, Hotch. You know I was just thinking how nice your smile was too. I wish I saw it more often.” I told him.

“Well maybe you will.”he said as he walked over to the stove, turning it off. “Okay, everything is ready. Here let me make your plate.”

“You don’t have to do that.” I tried to tell him, standing up to walk over to him.

“No, I will do it. After all, it’s your birthday.” He smiled with a hint of something behind it, I couldn’t put my finger on what it was, though.

We sat down and began eating together, but I couldn’t focus on my food. My mind kept wandering somewhere that it for sure shouldn’t be. Somewhere that was surely inappropriate.

“What’s the matter?” Hotch asked, and out his fork down.

“Nothing.” I said, looking away from him. I bit my lip hard to try and stop the redness on my cheeks.

“Stop that.” He said, and I quickly look up at him, confused. I immediately noticed how dark his eyes had become.

“Stop what?” I asked him.

“Biting your lip.”he started. “I can’t handle it.”

“What?”

“Listen to me. I’ve done everything I possibly can to keep my thoughts about you professional, but I can’t if you don’t stop.” He breathes, quickly, like he had been holding on to this and needed to get it out.

“What do you mean?” I asked. I had to hear him say it to be sure.

“I want you, so bad. In every way I possibly can.” He says, standing from the table. “I want to lay you down on the bed and kiss you places no one has before. I want to make you feel so good you can stand it. I want to fuck you so hard you can barely walk and then take you out on a date after. I want everything with you, and more.” He finishes, standing right beside me now.

“Then do it. I won’t stop you.” I tell him, standing up to meet his eyes. And finally, he places a hand on my back and pulls me close to him with a gentle force I’d never seen before.

He leans in and captures my lips in one swift movement. Our mouths mold together perfectly and move in sync. His hands start roaming my body and he makes his way to my ass and gives in a good squeeze which earns a groan from me.

“Mmm.” He replies to me. “I love the way you taste.”

We walk over to the bed never breaking from each other. He backs me up close until I fall back, hitting the mattress. He pushes my shirt up slowly, making sure to feel every inch of my skin along the way. Once he’s got my shirt just over my bra, he breaks from me to kiss a trail up my stomach, leaving little bites along the way until he makes it to my breasts.

“Can I take this off of you, please.” He pleads. I respond by quickly nodding. Lifting myself off the bed just enough for him to get my shirt over my head.

Once it’s off, he immediately attacks my neck. Leaving bites that will surely show tomorrow, but I definitely don’t care. I let out an involuntary moan from the feeling and he reacts with a low growl, vibrating the skin on my collarbone.

Without asking, I unhook my bra and throw it across the floor in a swift motion. Aaron sits quietly for a moment, admiring my perky breasts with lustful eyes.

I reach toward Aaron to help him get his shirt off, and then reach for his belt buckle, making sure to do it extra slow. I slowly sink off the bed and onto the floor where I am eye level with his waist.

“You’re so beautiful.” He tells me, looking down.

“Shhhh, let me make you feel good, Aaron.” I whisper, putting an emphasis on his first name.

“Fuck.” He moaned as I slowly pulled down his slacks, revealing a large tent under the thin fabric.

I start to remove his boxers but he stops me, pulling me back up to kiss me again.

“Me first.” He tell me and takes off my pants as fast as he can.

He throws me on the bed and climbs towards me like he’s hunting, and I’m his prey.

He puts his hand to my heat, barely rubbing his fingers against the my clothed clit. I bite my lip to keep from screaming, I so badly needed more.

“Aaron, please.” I breathe.

“What is it baby? Tell me what you want.” He says, removing his hand, making me whimper from the loss of contact.

“I want you.” I tell him, hoping he doesn’t make me say anything else.

“Not yet, sweetheart. I want to see you touch yourself.” He says, sitting back on the bed to watch me.

I slowly bring my hand down to my clothes entrance, gathering my arousal and bringing it to my mouth, putting my fingers in my mouth and sucking.

“Fuck. Oh my god.” Aaron says, “keep going.”

I bring my hand back and begin moving my fingers in a circular motion, just like I always did when I was alone, thinking about him. I start to moan as I pick up my pace. I close my eyes from the pleasure overtaking my whole body.

Before I even realized, Aaron is ripping my underwear off me and pushing his face in between my thighs, lapping up the moisture that’s surrounds my core.

“Fuck, Aaron!” I yell bucking my hips to get more friction from his tongue. He holds my hips in place and teases me, licking everywhere but where I wanted him to be.

“Not so fast, beautiful. I want to make this last. I want to take my time with you.” He tells me, bringing his face back between my legs, still holding on to my hips.

“I need more Aaron, please.” I said, hoping he answers my plea. I can’t take much more.

“Come here.” He tells me, bringing my face back to he, locking my lips with his. Making sure I taste myself on him.

“Aaron, I feel so empty.” I breathe. And thankfully he finally shows me mercy. He takes off his boxers, his cock springing to life, at attention. God he’s big.

“Come here baby.” He says, and I scoot towards the edge of the bed and quickly take as much of him as I can into my mouth, earning a beautiful groan from him.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy with my cock down your throat. I bet you’ve been dreaming about this hmm.” He says, and I can feel my core spilling from his words.

“Yes, Aaron, I’ve wanted this for so long.” I tell him, quickly taking him back into my mouth, sucking in my cheeks to make him moan.

“You have no idea the dirty things I’ve been thinking about you. I haven’t been able to focus in weeks. All I have thought about was your tight pussy and how it would feel with my cock buried inside it.” He forces out in between moans.

“Why don’t you find out then.” I tell him, getting back on my feet. He turns me around and pushes my head onto the bed so that my ass is in the air.

“Oh I intend to.” He says, teasing my entrance with his aching manhood.

He slowly pushes himself inside me, giving me time to adjust to his size. Once he’s all the way in, he pauses for a moment, and then pulls out, only to slam himself all the way back in.

“Fuck Aaron. Yes!” I scream. He starts picking up the pace, completely tearing me apart, and I am loving every second.

“That’s it baby, take all of me like such a good girl.” He moans. He snakes his arm around my leg to thumb at my clit, and I can’t take it.

“Yes, fuck hotch, I’m gonna cum. Please dont stop.” I replied. And him immediately pulls out. I can’t hold in the whine that escapes me from the emptiness he leaves.

“Turn over on to your back.” He tells me. I do as he says and he lays back on top of me, bringing his cock back and lining himself up. He pushes back in and it’s painfully slow.

“Aaron” I cry.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name.” He breathes, slowly picking up the pace until I’m a moaning mess.

He starts pounding in to me so hard I can’t speak. I want to but it feels so good I can’t even think of a way to describe it. I slowly start to feel my release creeping though my body.

“Aaron, please let me cum. Please.” I plead. My words fueling the fire growing in him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.” He whispers in my ear, thumbing at my clit until my orgasm washes over me, making me whole body shake. He continues to slam until me until I’m crying, screaming, and yelling his name.

“Fuck aaron, holy shit, please, cum in me.” I scream. And he continues to fuck me at an ungodly pace, I can’t feel my body anymore, but I don’t care.

I finally feel the warmth of his release fill me as he sloppily continues to fuck me. After a few more thrusts he pulls out. But I wasn’t finished yet. I somehow manage to get onto the floor and bring his dripping cock back into my mouth.

“Fuuuuuuuck.” I hear him moan through my harsh sucking. I swirl my tongue around his tip, making sure to take is slow.

I take him as much of him back into my mouth again but Aaron needed more. He puts his hand on the back of my head, pushing him even further into my mouth, until my nose touches his pelvis. He holds my head there until I start to gag before letting me go. He’s extra sensitive since he just came. I continue to suck and let his hand push my head to take all of him. He starts shaking from overstimulation but that didn’t stop him.

“Shit, fuck, I’m gonna cum again.” He moans and that only makes me suck harder. A few seconds later, his seed is spilling down my throat, and I make sure to swallow every last drop, sticking my tongue out to show him.

“You’re amazing.” He pants, catching his breath before giving me a loving kiss.

“Not as amazing as you.” I tell him. And he smirks through his heavy breathing. We lay on the bed together, until we catch our breath. Right before I got up to get dressed, he stops me.

“Call me Aaron anytime.”

[lcandothisallday]

Advice - Jack Harlow x f!reader

You met Jack about a year ago at one of Druski’s get together. Instantly he could tell that it wasn’t your scene at all. You were reserved and sat on the stairs next to him which prompted the both of you to start talking and eventually become friends.

Now, it was the first week of May and Jack had all but begged you to accompany him to Louisville for his album release party and the upcoming derby.

You stood around the kitchen island next to Jack in his childhood home while the both of you spoke to his mom who was checking up on the dinner. “Are you sure you don’t need any help Mrs. Harlow?”

Maggie shook her head almost instantly as she shut the oven door and smiled sweetly at you. “No I’m perfectly fine! And please—call me Maggie,” she mused.

“The food looks and smells really good,” you breathe out to Jack. The curly haired boy grins, “yeah—you gotta try this dip,” he mused, taking a pita chip and dipping it in before holding it up to your lips, urging you to taste it. Your cheeks heat up as you open your mouth to take a bite.

All the while, Maggie watches her son feed you with an amused smile and a twinkle in her eyes.

“That’s delicious,” you hum, licking your lips and reaching for a napkin. “Your mom is quite the cook,” you giggle.

“Don’t I know it,” Maggie mused with a wink your way.

Dinner goes by smoothly and incredibly well in your humble opinion. You sat next to Jack and opposite his parents which gave his mom a front row seat to how the both of you interacted with one another which safe to say made her ship the both of you hard despite you and him being just friends. After all is cleaned up, his family migrated to the living room area to hang out.

About an hour in, you get a text from Urban which causes you to turn to Jack-reaching for his hand for his attention. “Hey—is it fine if I leave a bit early? Urban wants me to meet his older sister before she leaves town tomorrow morning?”

Jack nods in understanding. “Yeah. Is he gonna pick you up?” he asks in concern, knowing that it’s dark outside and he didn’t want you to walk there alone. “Cos I can drive you if—”

“Yeah he said he can pick me up,” you confirm. “Thanks for offering though,” you smile, already getting up. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say, giving him a hug and a kiss to his cheek before you bid his family a proper goodbye.

After you left, his family dispersed, going off to do their own things which left him and his mom alone in the living room. She looked at Jack with an amused smirk. “So you and Y/N…just friends right?”

Jack’s face began to warm up as he shrugged, anxiously playing with his ring. “Um yeah.”

“And you don’t want it to be anything more?” she asked. Jack paused a second to contemplate before he shrugged again. “I don’t know mom. I don’t really understand my feelings towards her you know?”

Maggie nodded in understanding, but wanting her son to elaborate. “Well how do you feel about being around her?”

“It’s different than being around other girls that’s for sure. I know she isn’t using me and that she genuinely likes being around me for me. She makes me feel calm too—it’s weird. Like I can do anything if she’s around. She’s not judgmental,” he explained.

Maggie raised a brow at her son before she let out a laugh. “Sweetheart-why haven’t you asked her out yet? It’s obvious you like her.”

Once again, Jack’s face heated up as he licked his lips. “Ma-she can do sooo much better. I don’t even know if she likes me like that or not,” he scoffed, shaking his head. “She’s literally perfect. I’m sure every guy she’s ever met has fallen for her too,” he groaned.

Maggie looked at Jack sympathetically, not really knowing how else to help. She knew her son’s reputation with women and while she didn’t want the possibility of seeing you get hurt, she also wanted Jack to be happy.

“Have you seen her smile?” Jack spoke up almost randomly in the silence, a faint smile on his lips as he turned to face his mom. His mom let out a chuckle as she nodded. “Yes. She’s quite beautiful.”

Jack grinned as he hummed. “Yeah she is,” he mused, his cheeks now tinted pink.

“Jack, honey…I think you might be in love with her,” Maggie spoke softly. “And if today showed anything-I think she might have feelings for you too.”

Jack scoffed as he shook his head. “You’re basing it off of the first night you met her? How do you know she’s not acting the same with Urban and his family right now?” he pointed out. “I’m telling you mama-that’s just how she is with everyone.”

“All the more reason why you should tell her how you feel before someone else does,” Maggie deadpanned, telling him the hard truth. “But trust me, my motherly intuition says she feels the same…she’s probably worried because she doesn’t feel like she’s your type,” she pointed out.

Jack bit his lip before he raised a brow. “You think?”

Maggie shrugged. “Well I mean-based on what you told me about how you two met and seeing her personality…she’s nothing like the other girls you’ve been with. She’s not a…what’s the word…a thot?”

Jack’s eyes widened as he tried his best to contain his laughter. “You’re something else ma,” he laughed, shaking his head.

All night, Maggie’s words played over and over in Jack’s head. He was indeed in love with you. It was as plain and simple as that and his heart was aching at the thought of not being able to be with you in the way that he craved.

All day until he saw you he was anxious. Both for his album release and because he was determined to tell you his feelings that night.

When you arrived to the venue where he held the release party and walked up to him, his breath got caught in his throat. Jack thought you looked absolutely beautiful with your hair down and wearing a simple, yet very flattering dress. You greet him with a hug and a kiss to his cheek, pulling away with a grin. You didn’t fail to notice that his hands stayed lingering against the small of your back which undeniably caused your cheeks to heat up. “Are you ready for the release, J?” you ask him, looking up at him through your long lashes.

“Born ready baby.”

You let out a playful scoff and a small laugh. “Okay then hotshot,” you hum, before your eyes scanned your surroundings. “I think I’m gonna go say hi to Urb--”

Jack furrowed his brows and quickly caught your hand before you walked off. “No...stay with me,” he said softly. “It’s my night,” he pouted. You can’t help but giggle softly as you nod, “okay,” you reassure, not letting go of his hand, instead, fully intertwining your fingers with his, causing Jack’s heart to skip a beat at the action.

“You know,” Jack began, licking his lips nervously. “My mom really likes you,” he breathed out. 

The confession causes you to grin. “I really like your mom too. She’s so sweet,” you compliment back. 

“She um...she thought we were together at one point,” Jack chuckled, his free hand scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Oh.”

Taking in a deep breath of courage, Jack turns to face you better. “Do you um...have you ever thought of us like that?” he ended up asking.

Your brows furrow in slight confusion, “like...being together?” you ask for clarification. Jack nods and your cheeks warm up instantly. “Well I mean,” you shrug, face heating up more so if possible. “I’m sure every girl has.”

Jack shook his head as he took hold of both your hands, giving them a squeeze. “I’m not talking about any girl--I’m talkin’ about you?”

“Obviously yeah,” you confess timidly.

Jack couldn’t help but smirk. “Why obviously?” he egged on.

You shrug. “I don’t know...I guess I like the way you make me feel and you’re nice to me and-and you’re handsome...why wouldn’t I?” you breath out. “So yeah I’ve thought about it before but we’re friends and I wouldn’t ever risk that.”

“What if I want to risk it?” Jack asked, holding his breath out of fear of rejection. 

A smirk falls on your lips as you look up at the curly haired by with a glimmer in your eyes. “Then I think you should kiss me,” you say confidently. Jack didn't hesitate and almost like he was desperate (which he sorta was), dipped his head down and pressed his lips to yours. His hands snaked up to cup your cheeks, deepening the kiss with everything he had in him. 

“Fucking finally bro!” Urban exclaimed, causing you and Jack to pull apart abruptly, both of your face’s heating up. Urban smirked before he let out a laugh and points at Jack. “Your mom’s gonna be so excited when she finds out.”

(maggie and urban are bffs😤)

[kyberphilosopher]

Smile

Word Count: 3467 Requested: yes. Based off ‘505′ Warnings: strong hints to sexual disposition. Spoilers if you squint.

“I’d probably still adore you with your hands around my neck... I did last time I checked.” -Arctic Monkeys, ‘505′.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

With hoarse breath and unwavering eyes, you look up to the stars as you speak. “So, you’re really going to do it then?”

“I have to,” you hear him say. His voice has gotten far more mature and calm since the first time you’d heard him speak. Still angry and determined, but in an intelligent, adult way. Eren is a more capable person now. The only thing left to do is wait and see if that’s a good thing, or a bad thing. 

“What do you think are the chances of winning?” you question. A shooting star whizzes across the sky at that very moment, and it’s gone before you can think of a wish. 

You turn around to face him, but his eyes are already on you. Once upon a time, Eren’s eyes were emerald and teal and deep. Now they’re paler. They are cold and steady as a byproduct of who he’s become. It’s hard not to wonder what he’s thinking about when he looks at you like this, especially since he’s become harder to read over the years.

At first, Eren was one of the most insufferable people you’d ever met. He acted out so often, it was hard to see him as another person of intelligent life. You mostly just minded your business through your cadet years, usually hanging around Reiner, who was also difficult to see as intelligent life. Sometimes you and Eren would argue, but it was never passionate. You just had different world views. 

Things got better when you found out what Eren really was. Since you hadn’t made top ten, you could only choose between the Garrison Regiment, or the Scout Regiment. And with Eren’s newly discovered power showing the promise of hope, you decided on the Scouts. He liked that. 

After that, it was hard not to mature at the same time as he. Eren often blamed himself for the death and carnage that surrounded the regiment. You were solely responsible for the passing of your best friend. And after everything that happened with the government, almost dying at Shiganshina- you knew you couldn’t stand this much longer. With your relationship with Eren still budding in its early and steamy stages, he was the only one you told of your desertion. You abandoned the corps, finding a small, abandoned farm within wall Maria to hide out in. 

Eren was too tired and sick of everything to think you were being cowardly. He wanted to leave too. Maybe come with you. But Eren had plans in the works that he couldn’t leave alone. He visited you less and less. Luckily you never made a fuss. 

And now Eren wants to end the world, to save the world. How does he expect you to react to this?

“I just thought I should see you,” Eren replies. You know he’s deflecting your question. You’re not stupid. 

You nod slowly, blinking as you think. “Am I going to die?”

Your companion crosses his arms calmly. “Yes,” he tells you. 

There it is. 

“You know I can’t support you in this, right?” you tell Eren, equally as calm. 

He only replies after a moment, also in deep thought. “I know.”

You look back up to the sky, sighing out through your nose. “Why did you come, Eren? Did you want me to tell you that I think you’re doing the right thing? Or was it because you need to let out some anger? I wonder.”

“I did want to see you.”

“Do you still?”

Silence. 

“Yes.”

“And I suppose there’s nothing I can do to change your mind?”

“No.”

The stars are glittering with pastel hues, like a rainbow, or kaleidoscope. Each one is a different size, bordering on different shapes, all fusing and melting together like your idea of heaven. You can barely even see the midnight color of the sky through all them. It is beautiful, but it’s also bitter. Everything is bitter, here. 

“I didn’t make myself any dinner yet,” you say. “Couldn’t think of anything.”

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

When she was alive, Eren’s mother would make a soup for the family. It was creamy, hot, filled with meat and cheese at the bottom. Eren never liked soup, but he did love that dish. She was always sure to make extra for him, so that he could enjoy it for several days. And although it wasn’t until after she was gone that Eren realized he rarely ever thanked her for it, it was still one of the warmest memories Eren had. 

He fills your wooden bowl with it, being awfully generous. He knows that even though you haven’t eaten much in the last few years, you too had grown fond of the soup. He knows no matter how slowly you force it down, you are enjoying it. It burns the roof of your mouth every time, but you’ve never cared. All that matters is the creamy sauce, and the cow cooked to perfection. 

You stare at the fireplace beside you, flames cackling and licking upward. Eren sets the bowl in front of you, and takes the seat on the other side. You know he sets his long hair behind his shoulders. You’re already prepared. From your pocket, you produce a stretchy brown hair tie on the verge of snapping, handing it to him. 

“Thanks,” he says, even though this routine has happened however many times he’s seen you. 

“You’re welcome.”

The soup is as amazing as usual. You’re willing to bet Eren makes it even better than his mother did, but you dare not say it aloud. It’s creamy, perfectly seasoned. It goes down your throat, still steaming. 

“Does Mikasa know about this?” you question, taking one more delicious bite. 

“No. None of them do,” Eren answers. “Armin will figure it out soon.”

“You want me to kill ‘em?”

Eren shakes his head. To a lot of people, this would be taken as a joke. But this is nowhere near it. Your tone is too casual, too low for it to be humor of any kind. And the way the man across from you reacts- he’s thinking the same thing. 

“No.”

“How are they, then?”

Eren thinks as he takes another bite, the warmth creeping up his chest sweetly. “They’re alright for now. I don’t know for how much longer. I can’t see everything.”

“Can you see who’s next?”

He squints at his bowl as if he were angry, but his eyebrows barely move. “Sasha.” 

Sasha. She was always a good presence to have around. While she seemed like the type of person who would annoy you, it was hard to hate her. And you admired her keen intuition anyway. 

“Will you give her something for me?”

Eren nods. Then you both go back to eating for a few seconds, basking in the orange glow from the flames. 

“How are things here?” he questions after a minute. 

“The same,” you tell him. “I think the cow might die soon.”

Some people might reply with condolences, or sympathy. But your lover does not, and you do not expect him to. “I’ll get you a new one,” he says flatly, almost like a promise. You nod once.

Despite the atmosphere which can only be described as bitter, you’re glad to see Eren again. You’re glad that he’s alive, and as alright as he can be. The bed is always colder without him, heated up only by your lingering fingers that you pretend are his every other night. Whenever he leaves an article of clothing behind, usually on purpose, you hold off on washing it so it can smell like him for you as long as possible. Then there are the hair ties you keep either in your pocket or on your wrist, specifically for him. The razors in your cabinet he often didn’t even bother using. 

Even with the sullen demeanor that had managed to overtake both of you, there was at least one thing you cared about in the world still. Maybe it wasn’t the most conventional kind of caring, or the healthiest coping mechanism. But it was still caring. And all that you cared about was him. 

You knew you weren’t Eren’s first priority. You were probably second, or third. It didn’t bother you. Eren’s head was one of the first things lost when the truth was presented to him. It came back coldly and sternly, in contrast to how previously hot and impatient it had been. But by then your head had also grown colder and sterner. In simpler terms, Eren did care for you. He did love you. But he would consider letting you die if it meant achieving what he set out to do, and you knew this. 

Across the table, Eren lifts his head to look up at you as he chews slowly. The burning meal slides down his throat easily, albeit painfully. It doesn’t even register with him, his piercing eyes slowly gaining a glint from the fire light. 

You meet his eyes after a few seconds, feeling them on you. You don’t say a word, don’t even give a questioning look. You just hold him patiently, which is something the two of you find yourself doing often. 

“You can’t stop it,” Eren speaks, looking you dead in the eyes with a steady gaze. There is love behind his eyes, far behind the anger, but you can tell from the tone of voice he is trying to tell you something as if it were an order. Your lips part slightly from the intensity radiating from your lover, who doesn’t move a muscle. “You’ll be free soon.” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Dinner ends. Eren helps clean up the dishes for you and goes to get water from your well so you can clean easier. You already know from the way his thumb brushed against your own when you took the bowls that you’ll likely be bent over the sink in a few minutes, which you don’t mind, but you wonder if he’ll be willing to be softer than usual as an apology for what he’d said earlier. 

He’d meant to scare you. You’re intelligent enough to figure that out. Even though you don’t scare easy, and you didn’t even give an extreme reaction, the look in Eren’s eyes had made your heart drop to your stomach. Sometimes you forget that Eren sees everything. Then he says something like that to remind you in the most memorable way. 

The wooden door opens and closes behind you. Boots scuff the ground for a few seconds, drawing closer and closer as something in you sparks with anticipation, as it always does. A pail of water hits the surface beside you, partially sloshing over the sides, shining silver in the moonlight from the tall window in front of you. Finally, ultra hot hands slide around your waist and push gently but tightly against where your ribs diverge. 

A jaw leans down on your right shoulder, chin poking against your collarbone. Locks of hair brush against your own, just as the hand on the left runs across your side to finally put a small band in your pocket. 

“I did miss you,” Eren’s low voice seemingly growls, his chest rumbling softly against your back. 

“I was thinking about you,” you admit with monotone, knowing your lover can read through it like as easily as a knife slices through skin. 

“I hope I didn’t worry you,” he says, though you can also read through his own tone. He probably didn’t care about worrying you. He definitely doesn’t still. 

“You didn’t.”

You place a both bowls in the sink, running your fingers over the dirty spoons. Eren’s orbs follow your movement. You can feel his chin change positions ever so slightly in the coming seconds. 

“Can you pass me the rag?” you ask, eyes focused on a piece of food on the spoon that doesn’t even exist. 

In response, Eren doesn’t pass you anything. Only his right hand gives you any kind of acknowledgement, passing from on your ribs to down lower. His fingertips skin over the erogenous zone under the waistband of your undergarments. 

“I worried about you,” Eren murmurs boldly. The hot fingertips pass under the cloth finally, pricks of stubble on his jaw scratching your neck and shoulder as he shifts. “I wanted you to be okay.” His left hand raises to grasp the breast above it. Slowly at first, then firmly, like a warning. Everything is a warning with him. 

Your head lulls back uncontrollably. The back of your hair matts up as it rolls against his own shoulder. 

“I said you worried me,” your partner grumbles. “Did you hear me?”

“No,” you lie lowly, refusing to let your voice shake despite the shiver in your throat. 

“Mm,” Eren hums in condescending understanding. A force presses against your core, which has turned burning hot and ice cold at the same time. The force pulls away, a string of something smooth and slimy following it that makes a sound draw from your lips. It’s high pitched, weak, and unstoppable. You’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so associated with Eren. 

His hand gives your breast a firm squeeze, soreness blossoming from the center. Your back arches quickly and returns lax against him, though now something pokes against your bottom that makes your eyes pop open with a new alertness. Eren’s hand gives you no time again. From your chest, it flies to your throat, holding it back with soft strictness as the other finally dips into the hot pool between your hips. 

“I worried about you.”

A strangled groan releases from between your lips again, this time fully carried up through the air. To Eren, it must sound like nothing more than music, or background noise. 

Thick cylinders pump inside you to the knuckle. They feel better than your own. They always have. 

It feels good. Full. Tight and fast and like the inside of you is quivering under the weight of something that you can’t see or hear. Eren is like a blanket supporting you from falling over, keeping you upright with his grip and his fingers buried inside of you. Prodding every angle, every spot. Not necessarily romantically, but still lovingly. He has always had this goal during intimacy. Nothing matters but communicating to you just how close he wants to be. 

“Eren,” you choke, a dribble of spit sliding from the corner of your lips. 

“Again,” he hisses in response. His fingers hit a tight spot, making every muscle in your body clench at the same time. 

You don’t say another word, your mouth hanging partially open as you focus on everything around you. And it’s all Eren Jaeger. His smell, his growls, his voice, his breathing, his chest, his muscles, his hair, his anger, his bitterness, his intelligence, his determination. It’s overwhelming. It reminds you of getting swept in one of those waves at the ocean he described to you. He’s yours. No- more likely, you’re his. End of story. 

“I said again.”

“Eren,” you moan.  

His head nuzzles into your neck comfortingly, his fingers pushing faster and harder. You can feel how warm you are, never mind how slick. And the way your own body holds around his digits every time he pulls away is enough to make you all the more warm and slick. 

But then...

What is he doing?

He had said “you’ll be free soon”. And yet, here he is, gripping you tightly as he forces you into the corner of submitting. And yes, it is hot. It arouses you as it always has. But something about it makes your stomach turn into a knot of unpleasantness, in contrast to the other one of liquid pleasure. 

“Eren,” you strain, squirming against him. 

Eren speeds up again. A grunt falls from his own mouth from his own power, and you know he’s getting off almost as much as you are. It doesn’t stop feeling good. Feeling euphoric. 

It’s getting rougher. Rougher and harder and faster, more intense. 

“Eren.”

Another gruff moan from him. 

“Eren! Stop! Stop!”

Eren’s palm softens away at once. It lifts away, his eyes opening and his hand stilling inside of you. He watches you shake as you gaze up to the ceiling, wide eyed. Your thighs sputter, entire body twitching. You didn’t cum. 

His eyes trail over you. You’ve worked up a steady sweat glistening and glowing, shivering and shaking and quaking because of him in the best way. You’re his. His partner, his friend, his ally he knows for a fact he can rely on.

“C-can we... Eren...” 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Drips of water dribbling down Eren’s temple. One of your hands are threaded in his brunette locks, holding them back so you can have an uninterrupted view. The other hand is dabbing cloth against his forehead and hairline, bathing him softly. 

He’d gone a while without bathing again. You could tell. Eren’s eyes are glued to yours, deep teal memorizing all the flecks in your own as if he hadn’t a million times over. 

Eren loves you. Dearly. He’d travel all seven hours and forty five minutes just to tell you that. He doesn’t know what made you stop earlier. He doesn’t ask. But he’s not mad. Overall, Eren understands that it doesn’t matter what you asked to stop for. You give the word, he obeys. Not because he has to, but because he loves you. 

Still, he knows something is wrong. You don’t show it. You’re steady, calm, mature, apathetic as always. But in the pit of Eren’s stomach, something brews. A warm, strange feeling of intuition and omniscience. 

“You look very pretty today,” Eren ventures, wondering only of your response. “Did I tell you that?”

Your eyes squint. “Thank you,” you reply back. 

The cloth continues to rub against his skin, cleaning something that probably doesn’t even exist. Dirt, maybe. Eren’s stopped taking care of his skin in the past few years. 

“You’re welcome.”

Your eyes squint again. This time, they gloss over with sharp wetness like glass. The eyebrows crease like a break, your bottom lip trembling as you suck it between your teeth. 

He doesn’t know what he was expecting. But your lover wasn’t expecting this. 

Eren hates when you cry. He can remember the first time he’d seen it, but not the most recent. You didn’t cry often- you were strong. Crying over something as useless and flimsy as emotions didn’t seem worth it. So what was this for? What were you about to make Eren break down inside over?

Your hand falls limply from his forehead. Shoulders hunch over in defeat, staring down at the floor as your hair covers over your face. And then the sniffles come, choked out coughs like sobs. 

Eren can see the lightest of bruises he’d left on you from earlier, but you’d never had a problem with it before. No, it was something else. But what?

Silent, your teeth grit together as you wince, tears streaming down your face inexplicably. 

“Earlier w-when you,” you gulp, snot beginning to form, “when you- I did worry a-about you. I- I don’t know why I didn’t...”

You stumble forward. Eren stands from your bath tub to catch you as you slump against him tiredly. 

“I hate it when you go.”

Eren switches positions with you, pushing you down to sit on the edge of the tub. He takes the wet rag from your hand and holds your shoulder back so he can have a good look at you. Then the cloth dabs against your own forehead, just as you had done to him. 

“I hate it here,” you sigh, a single tear drop blurring your vision as it falls finally. 

Your lover moves the cloth from your head to your cheeks, smearing the wetness into your skin and away. They moisten and dry, your eyes red and shiny. Eren tilts your head up under your jaw, creasing his brows and using the towel to clean closer to your eyes. 

“If it helps,” he says, looking straight into your eyes, “you’re crying, but I still think you look pretty.”

You’d be lying if you said that didn’t help even a little, because you love him. 

A soft smile creeps to your lips, your hands dropping in between your thighs. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

No I didn’t reread this lmfao enjoy. Hope I did you justice anon

[tnystrk-exe]

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish. 

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything. 

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge. 

“Yes, darling?” 

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.” 

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected. 

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself. 

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?” 

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

-

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day. 

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.” 

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them.  “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment. 

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive. 

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands. 

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him. 

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to  let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.”  He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.” 

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting. 

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too. 

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his. 

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. 

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured. 

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin. 

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly. 

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste. 

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him. 

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed. 

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?” 

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind. 

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.  

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt. 

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place. 

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers. 

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully. 

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage. 

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.” 

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him. 

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty. 

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer. 

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.” 

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw. 

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest. 

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips. 

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach.  Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation. 

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you. 

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep. 

NextChapter

[mummybear]

Finally, I’ve Found You.

Words: 4938

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, ABO, Protective Sam, Possessive Dean, Claiming, Scenting, Dirty Talk, Orgasm Control, Hair Pulling, Fluff, Angst, Teasing, knotting....Think that’s it :)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Bingo Square: @spnkinkbingo - Free Space - ABO Soul Mates

Summary: When your protective Alpha best friend takes you to meet his family, things don’t go quite to plan. You end up finding something, or someone, you’ve been looking for your whole life. 

Beta: @negans-lucille-tblr Thank you again babe! :D

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Being an Omega in this part of the world was nothing short of a nightmare - Omegas were treated as slaves and fuck toys for Alphas. When your parents had died, you were even more scared than ever before. Being left alone in this world was terrifying, you hadn’t told anyone, not until you’d met Sam Winchester. He was an Alpha through and through,” - at least, that’s what he let the outside world believe. To you he was your best friend, and your protector. He was a complete sweetheart, even when you knew it was hard for him not to give into his nature. 

The most that he ever did was snap at you, but that was only when his rut hit particularly hard or your heat or his rut started before either of you were ready. Even then though, he would lock himself away, or he would lock you away and keep you safe, until those days passed. You wanted to want Sam in that way, and you knew he felt the same, but neither of you had ever been able to bring yourselves to do anything. 

There were times you’d talked about it at length; the possibility of you being his, but you’d always come to the same conclusion. It wasn’t right, for either of you, and it wouldn’t be fair. You were worried though, because if Sam wasn’t supposed to be yours, then who was? And were they even half as sweet, hot and caring as your best friend? You only knew what you’d been told by your other Omega friends, once you found your mate, you would just know.

“You ready to go?” Sam asks as he walks into your room, with a big excited grin on his face.

“Sam, are you sure about this?” you sigh as you finish zipping up your suitcase for the weekend.

“Y/N, trust me! My family are going to love you.” 

“You know I trust you, more than anyone on the planet, but I don’t know if It’s such a good idea. I’m not exactly special, I’m just like any other Omega,” you sigh as he takes the suitcase from your grip, and you hear him huff quietly.

“I’ve told you before, that isn’t how any of my family see it. Besides, you’re my best friend, they know how much you’ve been there for me. Even if you are a giant pain my ass. Now come on, stop complaining,” he winks at you over his shoulder.

You roll your eyes and follow him out of the door.

“Fine, but you better not leave me on my own,” you huff out, locking the door behind you.

-

Luckily the drive doesn’t take as long as you thought it might, and all too soon you’re pulling up to a gorgeous home, with perfectly kept lawn and two classic cars in the driveway. You wring your hands in your lap, feeling the nerves creeping up on you even more than you’d expected. You can feel the need to be sick pressing against the back of your throat. Sam must notice because seconds later you feel a big hand on top of both of yours, and you feel a slight sense of calm start to settle over you.

“Sam, I told you not to use those Alpha powers of yours on me,” you laugh slightly, feeling grateful that he doesn’t always listen to you.

“Y/N, you’re shaking and you’re breathing too hard. I don’t want you passing out on me, just breathe,” he smiles gently, the complete picture of calm, as always.

It takes a few moments, but you finally manage to get your breathing under control, and your heart stops racing.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I don’t think that’s ever happened before,” you swallow thickly, climbing out of the car and following Sam as he pulls your suitcases out.

Sam looks you over and frowns, “now you mention it, I’ve never seen you like this. Did we work out the days wrong? Is your heat due or something?”

You think on it for a moment as Sam leads you to his parents house, and over to the front door.

“I, uh, no. I only had one a two weeks ago. You know I only have one a month, it can’t be that.” 

Before Sam can respond the door is pulled open, and a grinning couple fill the doorway. 

“Sam! It’s great to see you son.” The older man steps forward and embraces Sam in a tight hug, that Sam returns with a big grin. Before turning to the older woman and doing the same. It’s clear to see they’re his mom and dad. The family resemblance is beyond obvious.

“Mom, dad, this is Y/N. Y/N this is my mom and dad, Mary and John Winchester,” Sam introduces fondly.

“Great to finally meet you, Y/N! Sam has told us all about you,” John smiles warmly, giving you a quick hug which you return nervously. 

“We really have heard so much about you, thank you so much for looking after our baby,” Mary grins, and pulls you into another hug.

“Now, come on inside you two,” Mary tells you both, moving aside so you can follow Sam into the house.

“Sammy!” You hear from down the hall, and you follow Sam further into the house, watching as Sam is embraced by a slightly shorter man with sandy hair. You smile at the display of affection. it’s so nice to see Sam surrounded by family, he’d always spoken about them, and you’re guessing this must be the brother he’d told you countless stories about, Dean.

Suddenly Dean looks up and his eyes lock with yours over Sam’s shoulder, you feel like a rug has been pulled from under your feet and you stumble back a little. Your heart thuds painfully in  your chest, and you swallow thickly around the lump that’s lodged in your throat. You bite your lip as his nostrils flair and feel yours do the same as his scent hits you, and it’s like you can see his eyes darken before you.

Your words are stuck in your throat, until Mary comes to your side and wraps her arms around you, “Y/N? Are you feeling okay, sweetie. Do you need to sit down?” 

Her voice sounds a little distant, like you have cotton wool lodged in your ears, but you hear her faintly all the same.

“Yes, please. Sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me today,” you all but whisper, tearing your gaze away from Dean, as Sam pulls away from him to come and stand by your side.

Mary and Sam lead you into the living room and help you get settled on the sofa.

“Are you okay?” Mary checks again, as she sends Sam away to help his father outside with the grill.

“Y-Yeah, I think so. I think I just need a minute, long drive,” you explain as you try and reassure her, and she nods in understanding.

“Okay honey, if you need anything we’ll just be outside okay?” 

“Thank you, Mrs Winchester,” you sigh, leaning back against the soft sofa, and you let your eyes close for a moment. You feel her squeeze your hand and the sofa dips as she steps away.

You suck in a deep breath and your eyes snap open, as an unusual but tantalising mix of scents fill your nose. It’s like leather, spice, oil and something you don’t quite recognise. Then your gaze falls on the door you’d come through earlier, and on him.

You sit a little straighter and shift awkwardly in your seat.

“Hi, you must be, Dean. I’m Y/N,” you practically whisper as he walks further into the room.

He looks you up and down and licks his lips, his gaze heated, like he can see through your clothes and it makes you shiver.

“Nice to meet you, sweetheart,” his voice is almost a growl as he talks, and he takes the seat right next to you, holding out his hand for you to shake.

You take his hand and your eyes lock with his, a complete calmness settles over you and you can feel yourself leaning into him. Dean swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he repositions his hand, so that his fingers are moving between yours, intertwining your hand with his own.

“Alpha,” you whimper leaning in closer, following his lead, until his forehead is pressed against yours.

“Omega,” he practically growls, scooting his body closer to you and breathing deeply, as his free arm curls around your waist tightly, almost possessively.

“There’s something about you… I don’t understand. I’ve never felt anything like this before,” you mutter, almost disbelieving, like if you say it too loud he’ll disappear. 

“Neither have I, but I can smell it. I know you’re mine.” 

He says it with such finality, and you want to believe him because, fuck, he’s perfect. Gorgeous, strong, great family. But beyond that you don’t know anything about him, you’ve literally just met, but something tells you that you can trust him, that he’s right, and you are his and he’s yours.

“B-But we’ve just met, Dean,” you stutter, as the hand gripping your waist slips just beneath your t-shirt and brushes your skin.

“Don’t care. You’re mine, I know you are. I can feel it, I can smell it, and I know you can too,” he growls as your free hand rests on his thigh to steady yourself.

“I can feel it, in every bone in my body, Dean. But we can’t,” you protest weakly, trying to pull away, but he holds your body tight against his.

He pulls back and looks at your face, “Is it Sam?” he huffs, and you can hear the unease in his voice, you can tell he’s forcing down a possessive growl.

“Why would it be anything to do with Sam? He’s my best friend, and that’s it. We both feel the same,” you sigh as he pulls away further, and you groan as your stomach rolls painfully.

“I’m sorry. You’re right, I’ll let you rest, just pretend this never happened, okay?” he grits out, voice shaking as he backs away slowly.

“No, Dean, don’t. I didn’t mean you had to go!” you call after him, but before you can get up he’s already left, and you hear the back door slam closed.

-

Dinner had been really great, full of great conversation and stories of Sam and Dean when they were younger, not to mention the amazing food. It only made you more confused as to why Sam never cooked more often at home. But after ten minutes, something had changed with Dean, and he’d gone to eat in his room, claiming that he had to make a call for work.

You’re all now sitting in the living room, while Mary shows you photos of Sam and Dean when they were babies. When suddenly a wave of pain hits you from nowhere, and you grip Sam’s arm tightly.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks immediately, and he looks really worried as he takes you in.

“No. Something’s wrong,” you whimper, wiping at your sweaty forehead with the back of your hand. Sam carefully helps you to your feet and you cling onto him tightly. 

“Mine.” Comes a growl from the doorway, snapping everyone's attention away from you and towards Dean.

“Dean? What the hell do you mean ‘Mine’?” Sam questions defensively, putting himself between you and his brother, pushing your body behind him. 

“Alpha,” you whine, reaching for Dean, and Sam has to hold you tighter against his side, so you don’t fall to the floor.

Everyone seems to be looking between you and Dean, before John groans quietly, “Fuck, I shoulda noticed earlier. Sammy you need to let her go, son,” he tells his youngest son gently, as he walks towards you and Sam. 

Sam looks at his father as though he’s gone mad and holds you tighter.

“No way, clearly Dean’s lost his damn mind, he’s not going anywhere near her. I’ve kept her safe for years, but I didn’t think I’d have to protect her from my own family.” 

Your eyes lock with Dean’s and you whimper as he starts to walk towards you, feeling the slick gathering between your thighs.

“Sam. Listen to me, Dean must be her mate. You said yourself that Y/N isn’t due a heat, right?” John asks calmly, stepping between his boys.

“Not for another two weeks, why? What the hell does that have to do with anything?!” Sam exclaims with disbelief.

“Well, your brother has literally just had his rut. So by rights, he was safe, unless…” John trails off, maybe hoping Sam is understanding.

“Sam, please. I need him,” you moan pathetically, as John growls at his eldest son warning him to step back, in an effort to calm the situation down.

“It must be another heat, Y/N, it’s the only explanation. You’re not thinking clearly-” you unintentionally cut Sam off, when a scream rips through your throat and you double over in pain, with Sam’s arms the only thing stopping you from hitting the floor.

Dean whimpers and looks around his father, locking eyes with his brother, looking like a scared puppy.

“Sammy, please. Let me help her,” Dean groans, running his fingers through his sweat soaked hair.

“No. I’m the one who looks after her, not you,” Sam growls defensively.

You’re starting to lose consciousness, and your eyes are heavy, sweat dripping from your forehead. You’ve never felt anything this intense in your entire life. Suddenly a smaller pair of arms wrap around you and help you sit back on the sofa, you look up at Mary, and she’s barely in focus. 

“Honey, I need you to focus, look at me okay.” 

“Can’t, Mary. I’m so tired,” you slur, feeling the sofa dip the other side of you.

“Doll, listen to me, you can’t fall asleep, you’re burning up.” Comes John’s deep voice from your other side, and you lean into him when he presses a cool rag against your forehead.

“‘mega, tell me what you need, let me help,” Dean whispers, carefully cupping your cheeks in his big warm hands. You force your eyes open, and you can see the pain in his eyes, and the tick in his jaw as though he’s clenching his teeth.

“Alpha, please. Need you, don’t go,” you beg desperately, reaching out and grabbing his shirt in your fists. Dean’s hands cover yours and he tries to hush you gently, and you notice that you’re both alone in the room now. Your legs are still like jelly, so when you try and stand you practically collapse into Dean’s arms.

You nuzzle at his neck and purr as his scent surrounds you, feeling your vision clear slightly as your lips press against his skin.

“Not here,” Dean growls, his voice deep, husky and thick with need as he scoops you up into his arms and carries you bridal style, putting a stop to your attempt to push his shirt from his shoulders.

You clench your thighs together as another wave of arousal grips you, and you feel Dean’s fingers tighten against your body as he carries you up the stairs. When you reach the second door on the left, Dean walks inside and then kicks the door closed behind him. He heads over to the large bed and lays you down carefully, before sitting down beside you, and brushing the sweat soaked hair away from your face. The familiar feeling of your heat coursing through your body is even stronger than it’s ever been before, and you can feel yourself curling around Dean as soon as he lays down beside you. 

“It hurts, Dean,” you whimper, hooking one of your legs over his body as he wraps his arms around you and you find yourself rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to find some kind of release. 

“Shh, sweetheart, just breathe. You’re makin’ it real hard to be a gentleman right now,” his voice is practically a growl, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your lip as you look up at him, “I don’t want a gentleman, I want my Alpha. I want you.”

Dean’s arms tighten around you and you feel the growl in his throat right before you hear it, “Fuck you smell good ‘mega. I could smell you as soon as you walked through that door. Haven't stopped thinking about it since I first laid eyes on you.” 

“I don’t understand how this all happened so fast, but I know you’re my Alpha, I can feel it,” you whisper as he cups your cheek and you feel relief flood your body when he pulls you into a kiss. 

The kiss starts off careful and slow but quickly becomes more passionate, he gently pushes your hands back against the mattress, and you have to clench your fists to stop yourself from touching him. 

“Stay there, baby, let your Alpha make it better,” he whispers against your lips between intense kisses that seem to be turning your body to liquid. Dean’s hands are exploring every inch of you, his touch is firm and a little rough, but it’s just what you need right now. You can’t help but moan into his mouth when he starts tugging at your clothes.

When he pulls away from your lips to look into your eyes, you gasp for breath, quickly realising only your panties remain. Dean hums in approval, cupping your breasts in his big hands and he gently flicks over your nipples with his thumbs, biting his lip as he watches your face for a reaction. You arch into his touch, desperate to feel more of him.

“Oh God, fuck,” you whine needily as Dean runs his fingers over your soaked panties. 

Dean chuckles deeply, breath hot against your soft skin, and you shiver as he nips at your neck, “you want me to bite down just here,” he nips a little harder for emphasis, and you can’t help but moan as you struggle to nod. You arch your hips and moan his name as he pushes your panties aside, and he eases two thick calloused fingers inside your soaked entrance, slowly edging back and forth until they’re fully inside you. 

“Mmm, of course you do, my needy little Omega. You want me to claim what’s mine? Want me to fuck you until you can’t see straight, and you’re coming all over my knot?” You can tell his instincts are taking over, his voice is deeper, and his touch is almost bruising, but in the best way.

Dean rips your panties away from your body with his free hand. You barely even feel the sting of them ripping, only the slight pressure on your clit as he pulls them up and off of you. Then he leans over you, and he starts to curl his fingers inside you, pressing his free hand to your stomach so everything intensifies as he picks up a steady pace. Then his hand shifts and his thumb presses against your clit, your hands immediately reach out, and you grab hold of the first thing you can. Your nails dig into his biceps as you hold on tight, feeling the muscle bulge and relax as he pushes towards release, the look in his eyes makes you want to give in to whatever he says.

There's just something about him being fully clothed and fully in control, while you’re naked and at his mercy that makes the Omega in you purr appreciatively. 

Your stomach tightens and your pussy flutters around his fingers as he pushes you towards your first orgasm. You’re breathing heavy and writhing beneath him when suddenly he pulls his fingers free, and your body slumps against the bed, with a sheen of sweat coating your skin. You whimper as you look up at him, wishing you felt a little less pathetic, because you would kick his ass if he was one of the Beta’s you’d slept with before. But this is an Alpha - your Alpha.

Dean chuckles, leaning back as he starts to pull off his clothes, and you can’t take your eyes off of him.

“Oh my beautiful Omega, don’t make all of those pretty little noises right now. I promise I’ll make it better. But the first time you come for me I want it to be with my cock inside you, stretching out this tight little cunt.” You moan at his filthy words as he throws his shirt across the room, he’s perfect, and you can’t stop staring, unable to believe how lucky you are.

“Please, Alpha. I need to come so bad, wanna feel your knot.” The desperation in your voice is clear as you cling to the sweat soaked duvet under you.

His eyes lock with yours as a filthy and cocky smirk curls at his lips. You watch with bated breath as he pulls off his jeans and boxers, and his thick cock is freed from its confines.

“Hmm, am I your first Alpha, sweetheart? Your only Alpha? Is this the first knot you’re gonna take in that perfect little pussy?” Dean sounds far too pleased with himself as he asks those questions, but in the moment they only make you squirm more.

He strokes his cock slowly in one hand as he pushes his other hand between your legs, and his thumb circles your clit torturously slow. You don’t want to stop looking at him, but your entire body is shaking with need. You clench your thighs around his hand, trying your best to stave off your orgasm.

“Dean, please. I can’t hold it,” you whine desperately. 

To your relief his hand falls away, and you suck in a breath, feeling the heat of his body pressed against you forces you to open your eyes.

“You ready?” he asks quietly, voice husky and thick with need, and you feel the wide head of his cock pressing against your wet entrance.

You can feel his thighs quivering against your own, it’s pretty obvious he’s holding himself back. You meet his eyes and swallow hard, knowing that you couldn’t go back now, even if you wanted to. You need him, you can feel it deep down.

“Don’t you want me on my hands and knees, Alpha?” you ask, voice breathy, and you shiver feeling his fingers digging into your thighs.

“I’m trying to take it easy on you here, ‘mega, don’t push me,” his voice has lowered to a growl, and you know you’re poking the bear, but you can’t seem to stop yourself, you need him to lose control.

You slowly drag your hand down his chest and stomach, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch, and you hear him suck in a breath when your hand wraps around his thick length.

“I can take it, Alpha, want you to fuck me like you mean it.” Dean grunts as your hand moves over him and you turn your head to the side, showing him your perfectly clear skin, free of any scars and stroke your fingers down the side.

“When you claim me, right here-” you don’t get time to finish your sentence, because Dean has pulled out of your grip and his rough hands flip you over and force you on your stomach.

You barely have time to suck in a breath before he’s hauling you up by your hips. Dean spreads your legs and the head of his wide cock presses inside you slowly, but then his hips snap forward, and you scream in pleasure as you lose your balance. Your fingers curl around your pillow and your back arches painfully, as he pulls out almost all of the way and snaps his hips forward again. The grip on your hips tightens, to the point you’re sure there will be bruises left behind.

“How’s that, my needy little Omega?” he growls, wrapping his fingers in your hair and tugging your head back harshly. You can’t speak, you can hardly breathe. 

“Ah fuck! Dean, please let me come!” you scream feeling your pussy spasm around his cock when he picks up a steady rhythm, deep and slow, and so hard you feel like your body is going to snap in half.

“Wait. I decide where I claim you, is that fucking clear?” he growls snapping his hips forward roughly.

“Fuck! Yes. Whatever you want, Alpha,” you whine obediently, impossibly close to the edge of a mind shattering orgasm. But even your body is refusing to disobey your Alpha.

“Mmm, good girl. C’mere,” he pants, tugging you back against him by your hair and nuzzling your neck. You don’t struggle, in fact, you find yourself relaxing against him.

“You wanna come all over my cock, sweetheart?”

“Yes. Please, Dean, I need it,” you whine breathlessly, feeling his free hand roam your body slowly, as he cock continues to thrust into you teasingly.

“Then play with your clit while I fuck you. I wanna watch you fall apart, my desperate little ‘mega.” 

The sheets are soaked beneath you both, his rut and your heat are in full effect now, and you know you’d do anything he asked.

You drop your shaking hand between your legs and start to rub circles into your clit, feeling your pussy clamp down around his throbbing cock. You cry out when Dean starts to pick up his pace, his thrusts are precise, rubbing perfectly against your g-spot. 

“Ah! Alpha, right there!” you practically scream as he roughly tugs your hair, pulling your head to the side, exposing your neck and you feel his teeth gently tug at your skin.

The threat of him claiming you is enough to send you hurtling into the most powerful orgasm of your life. Your body shakes in his arms as he continues to fuck into you, your tight wet heat gripping him like a vice. You’re vaguely aware of the fact that Dean’s wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you pinned against him because you’ve gone limp in his arms.

“So sexy when you come ‘mega, such a perfect little pussy. You want it, baby girl? You want me to make you mine?” he grits out breathlessly. Your head is swimming as you feel another orgasm burning in your stomach, but his words are enough to make you moan in agreement. Dean chuckles, pushing the sweat soaked hair over one of your shoulders, “c’mon, ‘mega, need to hear you say it.” 

You tilt your head to the side again and feel his tongue against your skin, “take me, claim me, Alpha. Wanna be yours.”

“Oh fuck,” he moans sucking hard at your neck, “gonna make me come ‘mega, gonna fill you up,” his voice is a broken rasp as he fucks up into you, his pace brutal. 

He lets out an animalistic growl when his own release finally hits, and sinks his teeth into your neck, then you feel his knot swell inside you. His knot catches against your entrance as his cock pulses inside you, pulling another scream from you as your second orgasm shoots through your entire body. Gasping, you both crash down onto the mattress, with Dean’s body wrapped around you. 

Your bodies shake against one another as Dean pulls his teeth carefully from your neck, and licks softly at his claim mark. Your heart is hammering in your chest as you take a deep shaky breath, as a feeling of being complete finally settles over you. 

Dean presses kisses along your shoulder and brushes his fingers through your damp hair. 

“Remind me to buy Sammy a house for bringing you to dinner,” Dean chuckles, his voice hoarse from your time together. 

You giggle and lace your fingers with his, his hand feels so big against yours but it feels right.

“Just a house, huh?” you tease playfully.

He presses a soft kiss to your claim mark and he drags his teeth over your ear lobe, “mmm you’re right, maybe a mansion,” he whispers, every word punctuated with a soft kiss and roaming hands. You can’t help but be a little nervous, this is all so sudden. What if he changes his mind about you?

His cock slips free suddenly as his knot retracts, and he turns you in his arms, so that you’re facing him. The soft smile on his face is completely disarming, and you can’t help but smile back.

“I can practically hear you thinkin’, ‘mega. I promise we’re gonna figure all of this out.” 

You sigh softly and lean in, kissing him for the first time in what feels like forever. When you pull away his intense green eyes meet yours. 

“It doesn’t make any sense, but I trust you, Dean. You and me, it just feels right,” you tell him, and the emotion you’re feeling causes your voice to catch a little.

“That’s because it is. So, what do you say we get ourselves ready and go down to see everyone?, I think we have a little explaining to do, my beautiful Omega,” he whispers tenderly, cupping your cheek and presses a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Probably a good idea, Alpha,” you agree, feeling a blush come to your cheeks as your fingers graze over the claim mark on your neck. You weren’t expecting your life to change so drastically in a day, but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

All Tags:  @julzdec @lettersofwrittencollective @stiles-o-dylan24 @mogaruke @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @dylanholyhellobrien @lilulo-12 @22sarah08 @simsadventures  @charmed-asylum @nicole-lynne @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @defenderrosetyler @emilyshurley @foxyjwls007 @mylovelydame21 @sunshineandwings86 @akshi8278 @peaches007 @stylesismyhubs​ @peachyyybabyy​ @fantasy-myth1​ @death-unbecomes-you​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @magssteenkamp​

Dean/Jensen Tags: @hobby27​ @littlelonewolfgirl @ladywinchester1967​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @maddiepants​ @spnfanfic-reblogs​ @holylulusworld​ @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @sonofabringmesomepie​ @deans-baby-momma​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​ @hhiggs​ @pisces-cutie​ @trina44sb @heartsaved​ @matsumama​ @adoptdontshoppets​ @beth-winchester21​ @doctor-hp-mcu​ @mrspeacem1nusone​ @fanddoms4love​ @nihilismworld​@noobwuvsj2 @lyarr24​ @hearteyes-j2​ @tatted-trina6​ @deandreamernp​ @thoughts-and-funnies​ @weepingwillowphoenix​ 

Pond Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean​ @manawhaat​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​  @nichelle-my-belle​ @notnaturalanahi​ @deanscarlett​ @roxy-davenport​ @impala-dreamer​ @samsgoddess​ @frenchybell​ @scorpiongirl1​  @deandoesthingstome​ @deansleather​ @curliesallovertheplace​ @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname​ @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious​ @kayteonline​ @supernatural-jackles​ @wevegotworktodo​ @quiddy-writes​ @babypieandwhiskey​ @supermoonpanda​ @deanwinchesterforpromqueen​ @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog​ @memariana91​ @teamfreewill-imagine​ @chelsea-winchester-blog1​ @becs-bunker​ @castieltrash1​ @supernaturalyobessed​ @ruined-by-destiel​ @winchester-writes​ @maraisabellegrey-blog​ @faith-in-dean​ @winchestersmolder​ @clueless-gold​ @deanwinchesterxreader​ @winchester-family-business​ @there-must-be-a-lock​ @just-another-winchester​ @cas-backwards-tie​ @winecatsandpizza​ @firefly-in-darkness​

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

Never Back Down

Warnings: the usual - tickling, fluff

Word count: 2500

Ok, I know I just posted like 2 days ago, but this idea started plaguing me on my drive home from work today and I had to just get it written out on (virtual) paper. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

You don’t back down easily. Certainly not from a prank war. Especially when it meant you had captured the attention of a certain Asgardian.

Admittedly, you had been the one to start it. Although, you had good reason – Loki had been teasing you incessantly that day, doing everything in his power just to push your buttons. So, naturally, you did what any self-respecting Avenger would do, and stole his ‘secret’ stash of chocolate from his room when he wasn’t looking. It’s not like you ate it or anything (well, maybe just one… or two…) but it was still enough to poke the bear. Loki, of course, knew exactly who had taken it the moment he noticed it was missing.

The chocolate had disappeared from your room by the next morning. Along with every pair of shoes you owned.

It took much longer than you’d have liked to admit to track down all of your shoes hidden around the compound. You knew you had to step up your game. So that evening, you pulled the classic ‘hair dye in the shampoo bottle’ trick (temporary, of course). The look you received from the now green-haired god the next morning could have shattered glass, but you still couldn’t help but snicker at him.

You made sure you were cautious the rest of that day, knowing he would likely retaliate. Before showering that evening, you double and triple-checked the color of the soap and shampoo before using it to make sure there wasn’t anything unusual about it. You even ordered take-out for dinner; afraid he might try to tamper with your food if you tried to cook something.

Nothing happened. Which only made you more suspicious about what the trickster was planning.

You found out the next morning, when you went to exit your bedroom and suddenly were knocked backward onto the floor as your face struck an invisible barrier. Plastic wrap. Clever. As revenge, you slipped hot sauce into his morning coffee. Needless to say, he didn’t appreciate it.

At this point, you weren’t sure who was winning. The most likely answer was really neither of you, but you figured you should probably be on your toes anyway assuming he would probably be plotting vengeance after this morning. Luckily, there was a mission briefing that afternoon; you figured at least he wouldn’t be bold enough to try to pull something in front of an entire room of Avengers. Or, at least, you hoped.

Tony was having renovations done on your usual conference room, so the briefing had been moved to one of the smaller meeting rooms on the second floor. You were running late, having gotten lost trying to find your way to the new meeting location, and you were cursing yourself for it because you were really hoping to be assigned to this particular mission. By the time you located the room, everyone else had already arrived and taken their seats.

The room was much smaller than the conference room, with a few chairs surrounding a table in the center of the room and additional seating against the walls. You cringed when you saw the only remaining available seat was in the corner, directly next to Loki. He smirked when he noticed you in the doorway, patting the chair beside him as if being polite, but you knew him better by now. He had something planned, you were sure of it.

You quickly walked across the room, trying to minimize the time that you were blocking your teammates’ view of the front of the room where Steve was reviewing the mission location on a projector. Begrudgingly, you slouched down into the seat beside Loki and leaned against the wall.

“You’re late,” Loki leaned over and whispered in your ear.

“Shh! I want to hear about the mission. Steve was thinking of sending me this time,” you hissed, glaring at him.

Loki was silent for a few moments, so you turned your attention back to the front of the room. Steve now had some images up on the screen of the artifact the team would be responsible for retrieving, which had been stolen from one of the local museums. You wished you had thought to bring your notepad – you knew it would impress Steve if you were taking notes, and you really wanted to have the chance to prove yourself by going on this mission.

“He is insufferable to listen to.” Loki had leaned over again to whisper to you, his breath tickling your ear, and you reflexively shrugged your shoulder.

“Shh! Stop whispering!” you demanded.

“Shh! You should be listening,” he mocked, winking with a mischievous grin. You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back to the front.

Another few moments went by when suddenly you felt something soft tickling the shell of your ear. You flinched and swatted your hand up to your ear, realizing Loki had taken a loose strand of your hair and had experimentally swiped it across your ear.

“Loki!” you whispered, your face heating up. “Cut it out!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, an expression of mock innocence on his face.

“You know what’s wrong. I’m trying to listen!”

“What is it? Are you… ticklish?” He emphasized his question by poking you swiftly in the side, causing you to jerk away from his touch.

“Loki… d-don’t get any ideas,” you warned, starting to get nervous. He scooted slightly closer to you in his chair.

“Hmm. Surely you must regret tampering with my coffee this morning, now, don’t you?” You narrowed your eyes at him, fixing your gaze on his. He snuck his hand up to your side out of your line of site and gently squeezed, making you jump. “Now, darling, you wouldn’t want to cause a scene.”

“Y-you’re the one causing a scene!” you protested, glancing up to see if anyone had noticed this exchange yet. It seemed no one was the wiser to what was going on in your corner of the room, all watching Steve as he continued to provide intel for the upcoming mission.

While you were looking around the room, Loki slid his arm around your waist to attack your other side. You jolted again as you felt his fingertips gently scratching at both sides simultaneously, biting your tongue to keep from laughing. You refused to gratify Loki with a reaction, so you did your best to remain perfectly still as he continued to lightly trace your skin through your thin t-shirt. You could still see his smirk in your peripheral vision despite your attempt to focus on Steve’s briefing.

Gradually, Loki’s light touch became more of a gentle kneading of the soft skin of your sides. It was becoming more difficult not to move, and a reluctant smile started forcing itself across your face. You had to fight even harder as you felt his fingertips moving up your sides, moving agonizingly slowly, gently digging into the spaces between your lower ribs.

“Very good, pet,” Loki teased, his voice deep and smooth as he leaned close to your ear. You shuddered involuntarily, your face burning, flustering you in a way that only the god of mischief could. Unfortunately, Loki was perceptive, and noticed your sudden change in demeanor. His fingers crawled higher up your ribcage and it took everything you had not to let out a squeak. “It would seem that I’m not trying hard enough, wouldn’t it?”

“S-stop it!” you mumbled, leaning as far away from the god as you could with the wall on your other side holding you captive in your seat. He chuckled, low and deep in his throat, suddenly shifting the hand that wasn’t wrapped around you so he could flutter his fingertips against the back of your knee while continuing to torment your ribs with his other hand. You let out a nearly inaudible squeal, biting down on your knuckle in an effort to avoid laughing out loud. You were trembling now, trying desperately not to jerk away from his touch and draw attention to yourself.

“It’s unfortunate for you, really, that you’re so devastatingly ticklish. Tell me, darling – where are you more ticklish? Here?” He scribbled his fingers faster against the delicate skin on the underside of your knee, making you jolt your leg away from him, “Or here?” The slender fingers latched on your ribs squeezed more rapidly, and you arched your back slightly to evade his touch.

“I’m n-not telling you that!” you hissed.

“Alright, then.” The hand under your knee darted back up to your side, and in one swift motion he slipped his fingertips into the hollows under your arms. You couldn’t help but twist harshly, shaking in silent laughter as you leaned into him involuntarily. “I see I’ve found the answer.”

“I’ll be right back!” you announced suddenly, standing abruptly from your chair, and scurrying out of the room. You shut the door behind you and leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath and regain your composure. Your cheeks were still on fire and your heart was beating a mile a minute in your chest. If it weren’t for the fact that you actually wanted to pay attention during this meeting, this whole interaction with Loki might have been more enjoyable. His persistent teasing had you completely flustered, though, and while under normal circumstances it may have made you feel giddy, you knew you couldn’t let the team see you like this.

You needn’t have worried, though – the door to the meeting room opened again only moments after you’d left the room, and everyone filed out into the hall, chattering amongst themselves, none the wiser to anything that had been going on in the back corner of the room. Loki was the last to leave, trailing behind the others with a few extra feet of distance between himself and the rest of the team. You took advantage of this, quickly grabbing his arm and yanking him off to the side, slamming him up against the wall with your forearm pressed across his chest.

“Damn it, Loki! What the hell!” you growled, glaring at him, although admittedly with less fire in your eyes than he probably deserved.

“Do you admit defeat?” he asked, grinning.

“Wha- no! Of course not!” you retorted. “You fight dirty, Loki!”

“God of mischief, darling,” he responded proudly, snaking his hand under your arm, and digging his fingers into your uppermost ribs. You shrieked and released him from the wall, stumbling backward to escape the torturous tickles. He was too quick for you, grasping your wrist and spinning you around so he could pin you against the wall where he previously stood. After grappling with you for a moment, he managed to grab your other wrist and pin both arms behind your back in one hand, spidering the fingers of his other hand randomly up and down your side. You snorted, now able to laugh and squirm freely. You managed to twist enough to break his hold, spinning around and sweeping his legs out from underneath him with your foot. He fell to the floor, a shocked expression fleeting across his face as you knelt down beside him.

“You know, I’m willing to bet you’re only good at this from personal experience,” you noted with a smirk. Before he could react, you latched both hands on his sides and squeezed, praying for a reaction. He let out a strangled laugh, jerking away from your touch.

“Don’t!” he demanded, sounding somewhat frantic.

“Aha! I knew it!” you gloated, scribbling your fingers into every possible ticklish spot you could think of, knowing it wouldn’t be long before he overpowered you and escaped your hold. He started to giggle – actually giggle – thrashing violently to throw you off. His laughter made you even more flustered than you were before, never having seen the god in such a state.

“Eheheh – I DEMAND you stop this!”

“Sorry Loki, it’s pretty hard to take you seriously when you’re giggling like a schoolchild,” you teased, working your fingers down to his belly. Unfortunately, this caused him to jolt so hard he knocked you off of him, not having expected the sudden motion. In a flash, he had you pinned to the floor, hovering over you with his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

“I-I am going to make you regret that,” he growled, his characteristic smirk returning as he resumed his tickle attack, his fingers darting across your skin, sending ticklish shocks through your nerves. He was agile, never staying in one spot for long enough for you to get used to the sensation before moving his torturous fingers somewhere else.

“L-LOKI! I CAHAHAN’T TAKE IHIHIHIT!!” you pleaded, pounding your feet against the floor in ticklish agony.

“You should have thought of this before crossing the god of mischief,” he retorted, pinning your legs down with his shin and pinching the skin just above your kneecap. Your abdominal muscles were too sore from laughter to even try to sit up and shove him off you. He slid his other hand under your knee to scratch at the sensitive skin there simultaneously.

“I YIELD! I YIELD! STAHAHAP!!” you begged, slapping the floor with your hand to tap out. Thankfully, he obeyed, releasing you so you could roll onto your side, holding your stomach as the last residual giggles bubbled from your lips.

After taking a moment to compose yourself, you sat up and grinned at the trickster. He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Why are you smiling?”

“I just never pegged you as the ticklish type,” you observed. He folded his arms indignantly across his chest.

“I am not ticklish. That is a weakness that only plagues mortals such as yourself,” he insisted. A sneaky poke to his side told you otherwise, causing the Asgardian to jolt and let out a strangled yelp.

“Mmhmm. Ticklish.”

Loki stared you down for a moment, and you started to worry that he might attack you again for that comment. You were surprised when he held out his hand, offering to help you off the floor.

“Truce?”

“Truce? … What are the conditions?” you asked warily, staring at his outstretched hand as if it might try to bite you.

“You keep this little… incident to yourself, and I will stop pranking you. Provided you do the same.” You squinted at him, trying to assess the sincerity in his expression. Satisfied, you grasped his hand in yours and allowed him to pull you to your feet.

“Deal.” You shook his hand once to seal the deal. You both turned to walk down the hallway to catch up with the rest of the team.

“I shall warn you, though – I made no promises that you would be safe from tickles around me. It’s quite amusing, tormenting you. Almost… adorable.” You felt your face flush hot again.

“Well… I guess I won’t protest too much to that.”

[milkyymoons]

Honey Tea | 01 Yandere!Jungkook

pairing: yandere!jungkook x reader (f)

genre: yandere, angst, mentions of mental health, future smut, manipulation, 

Parts: 01 | 02.

summary: You're delighted to find the perfect caregiver for your ill grandmother but are soon to find out his intentions are far from pure.

Your eyes were glued on the clock that hung on the brown tinted wall, nervously biting your lip. You really hadn’t liked the idea of having to even hire a caregiver for your grandmother to begin with but you weren’t left with much of a choice. Finding a job was hard to begin with, not only due to the fact that living in such a small town made the options limited but your lack of job experience didn’t make it any easier. Your anxiety disorder had only gotten worse over the years, interfering with your daily activities and made things such as simple trips to the grocery store a living nightmare.

However,  you couldn’t let your anxiety control your life any longer. You knew it was finally time to take some actual responsibility and do what was best for your grandmother. She had taken care of you and raised you all your life up until now, she was tired and  her heart condition wasn’t going to get any better. It was up to you to take care of her now, she was all you had left.

While your grandmother was decently well off and had insisted you didn’t need to get a job, you had refused. Medical expenses were not getting any cheaper and while the job you managed to land at the old bookstore down the street wasn’t much, it would surely help some bit. Besides, you were hoping it would help better your anxiety, being stuck inside the house all day surely wasn’t helping your intrusive thoughts.

Now the only issue was having to leave your grandmother home alone for so long, she had insisted she would be fine but you knew better. At her age, the amount of things that could go wrong would just race through your head nonstop.

The sudden knock on the door made you jump, you lifted  yourself off the soft leather coach and rushed down the small hallway of your home. You took a deep breath, not even bothering to check the peep hole in your rushed state and swung the door open, the chilly air instantly hit your face.

The guy in front of you looked exactly like his profile on the caregiver website, his tall frame towered over you and his large dark eyes quickly took you in. His dark hair falling below his ears and he gave you a friendly smile. He wasn’t much older than you according to his age on the website but his face held a childlike look to it, his handsome features were even more intimidating in person.

“Hello, you’re Y/n right?” He questioned, his voice smooth. The way his eyes scanned over your face almost made you want to hide.

“U-uh, yeah. You’re Jungkook right?” You asked, cringing at how awkward you sounded already. He nodded and you stepped aside, signaling him to come in.

“Sorry, my grandma is still sleeping, she should be waking up any minute.” You explained as you walked down hallway and he followed closely behind you. You guided him to the kitchen, offering him to take a seat at the table which he gladly accepted. You suddenly felt anxious all over again with his gaze on you.

“That’s okay, I’ll giver her the medications when she wakes up.” He smiled at you and his eyes darted around the kitchen, seeming to take everything in.

“Right, I left them on the counter for you and I texted you the details in case you forget. She takes her blood pressure and heart medication first thing every morning , her stomach is a bit sensitive so I’d prefer she ate something before she takes the-“ You rambled, pacing around the kitchen.

“Y/n” Jungkook cuts you off, his tone gentle. “Don’t worry, I know what to do. I’ll make sure to make her some breakfast.”  

You nodded your head in embarrassment but his words brought you comfort. You knew you were worrying over nothing , he had some of the best reviews on the website and obviously seemed to know how to care of elderly people way more than you ever would.

“Sorry, I’ve just never left her alone with anyone.” You admitted, sitting down on the empty the seat right across from him.

“I see, is she your only family?” He asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Yeah, my parents died in a car accident when I was little so my grandma practically raised me.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He gave you a pitying look and reached over to take your hand in his. You were a bit taken aback by the sudden action but he didn’t look phased in the slightest.

“You seem like a caring girl, many young people like you wouldn’t think twice in sending off their grandparents to a retirement home.” He said, his eyes boring into yours. He seemed genuinely in awe.

“I could never, she’s all I have.” You didn’t even want to imagine a world without your grandmother , despite knowing the reality of her old age and health conditions. Not to mention, the idea of sending her off to one of those facilities just seemed cruel to you, you didn’t have the heart to even consider it.

Jungkook watched you, you were indeed more beautiful in person. The blurry profile picture in the website didn’t even come close to doing you justice. He could tell how much you cared about your grandmother, it was obvious even through the messages you had sent him when you first selected him for the job. He could tell you were an anxious person just by looking at you. The way you had seemed like a deer caught in headlights when you first opened the door, your smaller frame cowering behind it. It was obvious even in the way you sat now, your leg bouncing beneath the table and your eyes refusing to make direct eye contact with him ever since he had arrived.

He found it all endearing.

“I-I better get going! It’s my first day and I don’t want to be late.” You said, suddenly remembering what time it was, the last thing you needed was to make a horrible first impression the first day at your job.

“First day? No wonder you seemed so nervous.” Jungkook teased, his hand slipping from yours as you got up.

“Yeah, well more like first ever real job so it’s even worse.” You let out a small shaky laugh, walking over to grab your bag from the counter.

“It’s your first job? How exciting.” He beamed, eyes seeming to follow your every action.

“Well, it’s a bookstore so probably not that exciting.” You mumbled as you tugged at the ends of your dress anxiously. Jungkook lips quirked up at your scattered movements, not ignoring the way the dress hugged your curves.

“Please make sure to text me if you need anything. The fridge is full and my grandma usually likes oatmeal in the morning, feel free to help yourself when you get hungry too!” You said, pointing towards different areas in the kitchen.

“ The bathroom is down the hall too and oh! I completely forgot to give you a tour of the house!” You groaned , realizing your dumb mistake. You had not even properly told the guy how to direct himself throughout the house.

Jungkook chuckled , standing back up and he making his way past you.

“Relax, I’ll be fine. The  house isn’t that big, I can find my way around it.” He assured you, observing your grandmothers medication bottles that sat on the counter.

You nodded and starting making your way out the kitchen.

“Y/n.” Jungkook called and you halted, turning back to face him. He gave you a warm smile, eyes trailing over your exposed shoulders that the thin straps of your sundress failed to hide. “ It’s quite chilly outside, you should wear a jacket .”

“Oh, right. Thank you!” His comment only confirmed how fitting he seemed for the job of a caregiver, you found it cute. You quickly grabbed the cardigan laying on the couch on your way out and rushed outside.

—-

To your surprise, the first day at your new job had gone quite smoothly. It wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as you had thought but it mainly had to do with you not having to interact with anyone much. You had spent your day stacking and reorganizing books, you were glad your boss hadn’t put you as the cashier. The old man insisted for you to stay in the back, probably noticing how anxious you had seemed in the job interview and not wanting to risk you embarrassing yourself with customers. You were grateful for that in a way, if your job continued like this then you were sure you could do it.

“Grandma?” You called out as you stepped inside the house, your shoes padding against the wooden floors. You let your bag drop on the ground as you walked down the hallway. You heard faint laughter near you, seeming to come from the living room. You turned and saw your grandma seated on her rocking chair, happily chatting with Jungkook who was seated on the coach beside her.

“Y/n! You’re home, my dear. “ Your grandmother gushed when she saw you, a smile forming on her wrinkled face. You walked over to her, giving her a tight hug.

“You didn’t tell me such a handsome young man was going to be the one to wake me up this morning.” Your grandmother stated and your face heated up at her words.

“Grandma!”

Jungkook chuckled, his smile reminded you of a bunny in a way.

“I’m assuming things went well?” You asked, face still hot.

“Perfect, your grandmother is a joy to be around.” Jungkook confirmed, glancing at your grandmother. “ I think she’s the easiest person I’ve had to look after.”

You sighed in relief, overjoyed that there hadn’t been any issues and everything seemed perfectly fine.

“Jungkook made some delicious oatmeal, I didn’t know these caregivers were such good cooks. “ Your grandmother added and you giggled.

“I gave her all her medications and she should be good to go to bed soon.” Jungkook said, standing up .

“How was your first day at work, my dear?” Your grandmother asked and you felt Jungkook’s heavy gaze on you.

“Good , I think. I mean it was better than I expected.“

“You know you don’t have to force yourself too much.” Your grandmother insisted, worry lacing her tone but you shook your head.

“I promise I’m not.”

“Your grandmother said you are a bit of anxious person?” Jungkook mentioned, tilting his head in a questioning manner.

You glanced at your grandma, wondering how much exactly she had told Jungkook.

“I told him how much you struggle with your anxiety and socializing with people. “ She sighed, resting her hands on her lap. “ You know how much I worried about you getting a job. I want you to put your health first.”

“Grandma, I’m fine. This job is helping me.” You insisted, not being able to help the annoyance in your tone. You felt a bit awkward now that Jungkook knew about your mental health conditions. It seemed too invasive.

“Your grandma is just trying to look after you, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.” Jungkook’s tone was sincere as he stared down at you, noticing the change in mood you took.

He wondered how you would react to him knowing much more than just the surfaced level information your grandmother had provided for him. It wasn’t hard to get her to talk about you, it was all she ever did seem to talk about and Jungkook couldn’t be happier at that. It made it easier to get to know you despite him not being able to be near you all day. Your grandmother served as an immediate resource. Although, not much of what she had said was surprising, he had figured the type of person you were at first glance, her words only serving as confirmation.

—

As weeks passed , Jungkook became more and more involved in your home life and his presence became so familiar to you, almost as if he had always been part of you and your grandmother’s life. He was here everyday first thing in the morning until late in the afternoon, sometimes even staying for dinner. Even on the weekdays, he managed to stop by for a bit and check up on your grandmother. You couldn’t believe it at first, that you managed to find such a perfect caregiver.

“Y/n!” Jungkook called out from the kitchen as you adjusted the scarf around your neck.

“One sec!” You said, rushing out and making your way towards the kitchen, you were met by a plate of stacked pancakes, scrambled eggs and chopped up fruit on the table.

“Don’t forget to eat before you leave.“ Jungkook stated, fussing over you to take a seat. It had become a habit of his to serve you breakfast each day before you left to work, insisting that it was bad for your health to leave on an empty stomach.

“You really don’t have to do this, Jungkook. You already do so much for my grandma.” You smiled, hesitantly taking a seat and taking a bite out of the delicious pancakes. Your grandmother really wasn’t lying when she said he was an amazing cook.

“Of course I do, besides I have extra time before your grandmother wakes up. “ He pushed a glass of orange juice towards you that you happily accepted.

“You seem a bit sickly lately, are you getting enough sleep? “ Jungkook questioned as he took a seat beside you. You had been more tired than usual lately but you figured it was because of your job. Although it wasn’t that physically demanding, you were sure it was your body getting accustomed to not sitting at home all day for once.

“Probably just tired from work.” You replied as you took another sip of your orange juice. Jungkook eyed you, taking in how shaky your hands seemed as you tilted the glass over your lips.

He didn’t like you working. He didn’t like seeing you do any type of labor, no matter how small. You should be treated like a princess, with so much care and not having to lift a finger for anything. He didn’t like the fact that you were away for such long hours, not knowing what type of trouble you were in or what you were up to. Fortunately, that would come to an end soon.

“I’d prefer if you actually finished your food this time. “ He said, his tone a bit more firm this time. You almost giggled at his serious expression.

“You take this caregiving job really seriously.” You commented as took another bite of the food. “ I’m sure my grandmother feels spoiled.”

“Hm, I’m sure she does. I try my best to.” Jungkook hoped you were the one that felt spoiled. He took great pleasure in seeing you happy, making sure he had all your needs met. He had took time finding out what your favorite foods, shows, and hobbies were. Anything related to you, he had become obsessed with knowing.

“I need to pick up my grandma’s prescriptions today so I may be home a bit later.” You added in between chews.

“No need, I picked them up already before coming here.” Jungkook smirked, and you sighed.

“You really were born for this job.” You mumble.

—

Jungkook sat on his bed, his eyes glued to his phone screen. The tiny camera he had hidden inside your room was at a perfectly angle from your bed. Placed inside one of the eye sockets of your many stuffed animals, he had found your collection of them cute. He watched as you emerged from your bathroom, eyes following the tightly wrapped towel around your body. Your skin still damp from the shower as you reached over your dresser for the lotion bottle. He swallowed heavily as he watched your towel drop on the floor, exposing your bare body. His eyes hungrily took in every curve, from your breasts down to your core.

You were ethereal, no matter how much he had tried to handle his needs by fucking other women , he was never satisfied. They weren’t you, and they would never would be. He almost felt as if he was betraying every time he had went to bed with another women. He was disgusted with himself for even giving in, promising himself he would never seek the pleasure of another women. You were his only muse, the only person he wanted. You were going to be together forever.

He watched as you spread lotion over your legs, massaging them. The tightening in his pants only worsened and despite how much he tried to control himself, he let his hand tug his pants down and closed his eyes.

—

“I don’t know what’s wrong with her, she’s been sleeping a lot lately. “ You chewed on your bottom lip worriedly.

Your grandmother had been more lethargic than usual, you knew her old age made her sleep a lot most days but still, her sudden change in behavior was odd to you. Your grandmother was usually a chatty old lady and now she barely had the energy to hold a full conversation with you.

Jungkook listened intently, having his back turned to you as he prepared you some tea. He lifted the kettle and poured  the hot water over the tea bag, adding a bit of extra honey knowing you had a sweet tooth. He didn’t want you this anxious all night.

Especially not tonight.

“ You have to understand your grandmother is at a very delicate age now,” He began to explain. “ She’s tired and doesn’t have much energy for anything.”

You knew what he was implying but you didn’t want to accept it. You shook your head at just the mere thought.

“What if it’s because of me?” You wondered as he took a seat across from you and handed you over the mug. You thanked him and took a sip, the hot liquid soothing your throat.

“Bab-“ Jungkook stopped himself, not letting the nickname fall from his lips.

“You can’t blame yourself for these things. None of this is your fault.” He stated with a more serious tone, staring so intensely at you that you almost believed him.

“B-but what if it is? I mean, I don’t even spend that much time with her anymore. “ You reasoned. “Maybe she’s depressed.”

“You overthink too much,” He replied, watching as you took another sip of the tea. “ She seems happy all the time, you can’t expect her to be the same as a few years ago, it’s just the age.”

You sighed, nodding slowly at his words. You knew deep down he was right, your grandmother was just reaching a certain age that didn’t let her have much energy for much. However, that made you even more guilty having to go to work and just leaving her. Of course, you knew Jungkook took amazing care of her and she loved him, always gushing about how attentive he was. But that didn’t stop the guilt washing over you.

“I’m gonna go give her a good night kiss. “ You whispered, setting the mug down. Jungkook watched you until you disappeared from his view, rushing down the hallway.

You came into your grandmother’s room, turning on the lamp on her nightstand. She looked so peacefully asleep, you almost regretted coming inside in fear of waking her up. You made your way over to her bed, crouching down a bit to her level as you pulled back her covers a bit.

“Love you, grandma. Good night.” You whispered, pressing your lips to her cheek. Her skin was so ice cold that it made you flinch back.

You frowned, eyes scanning over body.

“Grandma?” You asked, shaking her shoulder a bit. No movement.

“Grandma?” You repeated, this time more panicked. You felt your heart drop as you continued to shake her more and no response came. She didn’t seem to be breathing.

“Jungkook!” You yelled as you stood up, fully taking the covers off her.

“Jungkook! Somethings wrong!” You yelled again, frantically running out of your grandmother’s room in search for the caregiver. You hurried down the long hallway, feeling your heart rapidly beat in your chest.

“Jungkook!” You found him sitting in the same spot you left him, he slowly turned his head towards you when he saw you enter the kitchen. “ Please call an ambulance! My grandma is not moving!”

“Y/n, calm down.” He said, slowly standing up from his seat. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his calm and nonchalant behavior.

“What!? How am I supposed to calm down? She’s not breathing!” You screamed at him, running past him in search of your bag.

“Where’s my phone!?” You dumped all the stuff out of your bag on the table, frantically searching for your phone.

Jungkook watched you silently , slowly circling the table. He took a quick glance at the clock that hung on the wall.

“Why are you just standing there!” You whipped your head back at him, angry tears already forming in your eyes.

“Do something! Go find hel-“ The wave of dizziness that took over your body made you shut your mouth. You stumbled back a bit, feeling a pair of arms hold you up.

The floor seemed to be spinning beneath you. You scrunched up your face in confusion. What the hell was happening?

“Shh, it’s okay baby.” You heard Jungkook whisper , his hot breath on your ear. Your heart continued to beat rapidly in your chest as your vision became more disoriented.

“W-whats going on?” You mumbled, feeling a heaviness take over you. Your legs felt weak, almost giving out beneath you as the arms around your body tightened.

“Everything is okay, baby. “ Jungkook hushed, arms holding you down.

“Just sleep.”

The tea. Your body chilled in realization.

“M-my grandma.” You attempted to free yourself from his grip, pathetically throwing punches against his chest. He almost found your attempts humorous.

He looked down at you in pity.

“Your grandmother was just an another obstacle between us, she’s in a much better place now.” His words made you freeze, your mind not knowing how to process what he had just said. You shook your head rapidly.

“No, no.” You let out choked sob, this wasn’t happening . None of this was happening.

“What did you do to her?!” Angry tears stained your cheeks, this had to be a nightmare. This couldn’t be real. Jungkook could never do that, this had to be some sick joke.

“What did you! Let me go!” You demanded but the weakness in your body only seemed to get stronger, your own body was betraying you right now as Jungkook continued to carry you down the hallway.

“Baby, you need to calm down.” Jungkook repeated as you continued to fight against his grip, he knew you wouldn’t last much longer. “ You’re going to hurt yourself. “

“P-please, let me go.” You cried, your vision blurry now. Everything seemed to spin, slowly fading away into darkness, your body falling limply against his.

“That’s it, fall asleep.” Jungkook pressed his lips against the side of your forehead. His princess was finally his.

“Everything is going to be okay, baby.” He smiled down at you, brushing your hair out of your wet face. “We’re finally going to be together.”

[thebiscuiteternal]

Hi Biscuit, if you’re still taking things for the writing jam maybe the moment(s) you alluded to for Reverse Nies where young NMJ grew closer and began to care more for NHS?

Continuing from this bit.

---

Normally, he didn't mind winter. Even before the extremely recent formation of his core, he had always had a strong enough constitution not to be affected by every little change in the weather.

Unlike some people.

But sickness did occasionally worm its way in.

Like today, for example.

He had grumbled with all his almost-eight-year-old might against the orders for strict bed rest. He wasn't his- some people, he didn't need to be lying around when he had drills he should be doing instead.

Yet here he was.

All day.

Ugh.

---

Zhang Min swept into the room with lunch, a welcome distraction from the tedium of trying to do his calligraphy lessons despite the occasional fits of coughing.

When the tray was set in his lap, his eyes widened at the massive bowl of hulatang loaded with extra noodles and mushrooms and what smelled like roasted duck. "Thank you, Min-jie."

"I'll take the thanks for the medicinal additions, but you'll have to thank your brother for the soup."

Nie Mingjue put down the spoon he'd just picked up, a small scowl crossing his mouth. "Why?"

"He made it, of course," she said, then clicked her tongue when his scowl deepened. "Stop making that face. Sang-er is a perfectly capable cook."

"Since when?" Nie Mingjue asked derisively, picking up the spoon again and beginning to poke at the meat and vegetables. "He can't even hold a knife without collapsing. I bet he ruined it."

Now it was Zhang Min who was scowling, her hands on her hips. "Well, now. I wonder if I should take the soup back to the kitchens, since it's clearly nowhere up to gongzi's exacting standards. Or would you be so picky if you didn't know who made it?"

He hunched his shoulders and bit his tongue, refusing to admit out loud that she had a point, and stayed that way until the door closed behind her and he was alone again.

Cautiously -enough so that his father would have laughed and called him dramatic- he took a bite.

It... was really good.

Knowing now that Nie Huaisang cooked, he thought back to the tray full of dishes from his first day of training, the one he'd sent back without having taken even one bite.

Of a dozen or more other times he'd refused even the smallest offering because it was his stupid brother who had made them.

Suddenly the few spoonfuls he'd eaten while lost in his thoughts sat heavy in his stomach.

---

When he was finally allowed out of bed, he went straight to the kitchens.

Sure enough, Nie Huaisang was there, seated on a high stool and rolling out dough into little balls for dumplings. Even with the heat from the ovens and pot fires, he had a heavy shawl wrapped around his shoulders, and looked like he should have been the one spending the last four days in bed, not Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue bit his lip, then straightened up and marched over to his brother. "Zhang Min told me you made the hulatang. And pretty much everything else I've eaten this week."

"Min-jie is a tattle-tale," Nie Huaisang replied with a casual roll of one shoulder, not even looking up from his work. "How are you feeling? Ready to get back to your normal routine? I bet your instructors will be glad to see you again."

Nie Mingjue scowled at his brother. "Why are you like this?"

Nie Huaisang finally turned his head. "Like what?"

"Like... this," Nie Mingjue said, a helpless sort of anger bubbling up in his chest. "You know I can't stand you, and you still- you still-"

Nie Huaisang regarded him with an undecipherable expression, then sighed and picked up a towel to wipe his hands. "You're hardly the only person here who doesn't like me. But you're the only one who's my brother. Does it have to be more complicated than that?"

He doesn't know how to respond. This conversation isn't going at all the way he'd planned while stuck in bed for days. He was just going to say a quick thanks for the soup and go back to normal, but now-!

After what feels like forever just staring at each other, Nie Huaisang gives him a small smile that makes his chest ache and his eyes sting. "Okay," he says quietly. "Okay. I didn't realize I was being that much of a bother. I'll back off."

Nie Mingjue makes a choked noise in the back of his throat and stumbles forward, burying his face into his brother's neck as he clutches at the older boy's robe.

"I don't want you to back off."

[hoodieofholland]

Congrats on 600!! What about reader telling tom that she has a huge exhibitionism kink and he surprises her with something? 🌷

Thank youuu! Yeaaah, this is such a concept!!

Warnings: smut (+18), use of toy, exhibitionism kink, dirty talk.

It was always a joyful moment whenever Tom's family came to lunch on Sundays. You and Tom would spend a really good time in the kitchen, cooking something special and fooling around like a married couple. There was something so domestic on it that made Tom be grateful for every weekend and realise that he couldn't imagine a life where you wouldn't end up being his wife.

And even though he was pretty sure he knew everything about you, every little curve of your body, every little thought of your intelligent and creative mind, he caught himself out of guard when you admitted something to him.

"I kinda get turned on when thinking that someone could catch us... y'know, right in the act".

It was just a couple of nights ago, when you were both teasing each other while you grinded on his crotch, his hands all over, and since then he couldn't get that out of his mind.

Back then, he didn't find any sight of embarrassment on you, but you didn't bring it up again. So he thought to himself that maybe he could try something out and surprise his lover. Sundays lunch just seemed the perfect moment to feed your little kink.

After finishing cooking and washing the remaining dirty dishes, you and Tom set the table before his family arrives. The moment were filled with his praises for one of the dishes you cooked, even though he helped you with everything else, and with slight and teasing touches here and there.

"Sorry", he murmured under his breathe as he passed behind you, his crotch grinding your ass lightly. You can't help but giggle.

"Okay, boy, you better stop it, your family is about to arrive", you say, turning around to put a hand over his chest. He looked particularly good today, wearing a dark blue t-shirt that fits his body perfectly, and larger jeans, his hair slicked back, still wet from his recent shower.

"Not my fault I have such a hot girlfriend", he smirked, putting the spoons he was caring to set at the table aside, before getting closer to you and lowering his head to press a soft kiss on your neck. "We could always cancel it and have a day to ourselves..."

"No way, Holland", you smile, withdrawing him with your hands on his chest.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot it doesn't actually matter", he said, a huge smile making presence on his soft features, a teasing tone on his voice. He brings his hands to rest on your waist, squeezing it to bring you closer one more time. "You like the thought of being caught. I think you'd even rather if I did you with everyone in the living room".

You were shocked by his words, mouth hanging agape as you tried to come up with something to say. Your cheeks were heating as the realisation that Tom still remembered what you told him about your fantasy hit you.

"I-", before you cold say anything, the doorbell rang, and Tom left you to welcome his family.

The whole time before lunch was set up on table, you couldn't get your mind out of what Tom said, being dragged back whenever one of the twins called your attention to the conversation.

"I'm gonna take another bottle of wine, what you think?", Tom asked when everyone finished their main dish, raising from his seat. "Oh, and Paddy, another glass of juice for you?"

Paddy nodded, and Tom turned to you with the tiniest smirk on his face. "Could you help me, love?".

In other occasions, you would find it very strange of him to call you just to bring some wine and juice, but you knew something was up. So you didn't argue and got up quickly, smiling at the other as you followed Tom to the kitchen.

You stood next to the kitchen's island while he was walking around and picking everything he needed. Bitting your lips, you notice the way he behaved as if you weren't even there. He was teasing you and you knew it.

Clearing your throat, you cock an eyebrow when you get his attention. "So, what do you need my help for?".

Tom smirked and walked towards you, putting the bottle of wine on the island. "Thanks for asking, darling. Very attentive of you", he licked his lips. "You seem very disappointed with what you assumed I called you here for. What was that?"

Your heart fasten inside your chest, at the sight of his hand moving inside the pocket of his jeans. "I- I don't know. I thought you wanted something, like...".

He clicks his tongue in disapproval, "Don't lie to me, love", he smiled, taking his free hand to the hem of your dress. "I bet you thought I was gonna take you right here, didn't you? What were you expecting me to do? Eat this pretty pussy out?"

Your mouth goes dry. Tom's hand slide inside of your dress, reaching the waist of your panties and playing with it. "No, I thought- I thought that maybe-"

"That I would give you my cock?", he whispered, giving your lips a soft peck before stepping back. "This would take us time, darling. Everyone in that living room would notice it, for sure. And though I know that's what your dirty brain wants, that couldn't happen, could it, sweetheart?".

You shake your head and observe attentively as he takes something from his pocket, hiding it in his fists, his free hand holding your waist while he kneels down in front of you.

"So this is how it will work", he keeps his voice quiet, though his actions weren't so soft. He slides his hand under your dress, pulling your underwear until it hit the ground. Tapping your ankle twice, he commends you to take it off, and you as you're told. "You're gonna wear this while we have a nice conversation back in that table", he lifts his fists and shows you a small vibrator that you were so used to, before taking it to your core.

He lifts your dress up until he can see your bare pussy, already covered in some wetness, enough to enjoy the sensation as the vibrator is positioned inside of your pussy. "Like that, good girl..."

When you're used to it, Tom helps you to slide your panties back, holding the vibrator better at place. He smiles as he watches you squirming at the sensation. Bringing his face closer to your heat, he presses his nose against your covered clit, moving his head slightly to create the tiniest friction. "Can smell you already, love".

You bite your lip, avoiding letting any noise come out of your mouth. Tom kisses your center through the panties, where a nice wet spot was already set.

"You're gonna wear this, and when you're close enough, you're gonna excuse yourself and come here again. I want you to be on edge, so we can make it quick enough to not be suspicious. This pussy is only getting my cock when you're dripping, do you understand me?"

You nod fervently, too weak in your dizzy state to say something else, but Tom disapproves, "Words, darling".

"Yes, I got it", you swallow hard, gripping tightly on the counter.

"Good", Tom smiles in approval, pressing a tight kiss to your center as he closed his eyes. "Fuck, wish I got time to have a taste before we get back", he mumbles, and before you can start to enjoy the feeling of his lips against you, even over the fabric of your panties, he get away, lust covering his usually soft brown eyes.

"Don't forget, get here whenever you feel you're close", giving your cheek a soft kiss, he whispers in your ear, "So I can have my dessert in the kitchen".

Join hoodie 600's sleepover

[sugarsugarmoon]

Hallway Run-In

Summary: Your friend Jimin gets a new roommate, and you can’t help yourself from looking at him. neighbors to lovers!au. college!au.

Pairing: namjoon x reader

Rating: Mature

Genre: smut and fluff

Warnings: vague mention of recreational alcohol use, protected sex

a/n: This is for the Secret Admirers collab with @heartsforbtsnet. I wrote this for @honeyj00ns​, the beautiful magical butterfly. I hope you like it! It’s not edited or anything...oopsie!

WC: 3260

You are in a hurry as you are leaving your apartment, throwing your bag over your shoulder with a wild swing before you grab your latte off the counter. You’d taken the time to go down to the cafe downstairs this morning, and you are now slightly regretting it because you didn’t factor in enough time to get ready and get off to class.

You fling open the door, fumble with your keys before finding the right one to lock the door. You whirl around to power walk down the hall when you are met with a solid wall of human.

“Oh fuck!” you exclaim as the warm liquid from your cup splashes into your face and down your blouse.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” you hear a deep voice say.

You aren’t looking up at the figure because you’re just staring down at your now soiled blouse. You didn’t factor in enough time to get a latte, let alone to change your entire outfit. You sigh heavily.

“Shit, shit. I’m sorry,” the voice says again.

You look up, mostly angry at yourself. “Just watch where you’re going,” you snap.

“Oh...yeah...okay.”

There’s a defiance in his voice, like he knows as well as you do that it was no less than half your fault, if not more so. You take in the figure in front of you, and your jaw immediately drops. It’s no wonder that it felt like you were walking into a wall. He stands at about six feet tall, his shirt straining over his pectoral muscles and his biceps. His honey skin is nearly flawless, and his eyes seem like they could look directly into your mind and see your thoughts.

“I’m sorry,” you sigh. “I’m just in a hurry.”

You pick up your keys off the floor and unlock your door. As you are slipping into it, you hear, “I was Namjoon” from behind you.

You change quickly into a clean t-shirt and run out the door. Once you sneak into the back of the lecture and plop down into a seat, you have a moment to reflect on the interaction you had with the man in the hallway. You feel the embarrassment starting to fill you again.

You hadn’t ever seen that man around the apartment building before, and you weren’t sure if he was just visiting or if he lived there. You hoped he was just visiting since you spilled coffee on him then snapped at him like it was his fault. You finally force yourself to focus on the lecture, but your mind keeps wandering to his perfect skin and the faint appearance of the dimples in his cheeks. You shake your head and start to write notes about the chemical compounds that the professor has put on the board. You curse yourself slightly for taking the Introductory course this far into your studies, but you needed a lab science to graduate.

After your classes are over for the day, you hurry home, the heels of your booties clacking on the sidewalk with each step. You secretly love the sound because it makes you feel powerful. You know that soon the biting wind will start to swirl around, knocking the leaves from the trees. Currently though, the sun is shining, illuminating the reds and yellows with spots of green still in the branches.

Back in the lobby of your building, you see your next door neighbor, Jimin, at the mailboxes, struggling to get his key out of the keyhole in the small metal door. He grunts slightly. You’ve always thought that Jimin was painfully attractive, like a fairy or an angel that you didn’t have permission to look at. It almost hurt your eyes. You decide to grab your mail and talk to him.

“Hey Jimin, do you need help?” you ask, as you faking casualness and sliding your key into the lock. 

He sighs and turns, and upon seeing your face, he smiles. “Oh hi, yn! No...I think I can get it.”

You giggle at the small grunt that comes out of his chest. You slide the envelopes out of your box and lock it back up. Jimin continues to struggle, and you decide that you can’t just leave him like that, with the key stuck in the lock.

“May I?” you ask

He steps aside and sighs. You close the box because he’d been fighting with it while the door was open. You wiggle the key slightly, then you hear the click of the tumblr. The door locks, and you can’t help but smile. You slide the key out with a gentle jiggle. You hand it over to Jimin with the smile still spread across your face.

“Of course,” he sighs again. “I had a new key made because I gave my new roommate the original, and the new key is just sticking so badly.”

“New roommate?”

“Oh yeah! You should come meet him sometime!”

The two of you walk to your apartment after making dinner plans for the following day. Jimin insists that you don’t have to bring anything but yourself, but you know that you’re going to bring a bottle of wine with you. You’d never arrive empty-handed to a dinner party.

The following evening, you knock on Jimin’s door just after 6:00. The beautiful man opens the door, and he looks so happy that you’re there. You can’t help but smile when you’re around Jimin because his cheeriness is contagious. He throws his arms around you, and the two of you have a slightly lingering hug. You inhale deeply, smelling his cologne, then realize what you’re doing and quickly release him.

“yn, this is my new roommate, Namjoon,” Jimin says, stepping aside.

Upon hearing the name, you feel a lightheadedness come upon you. Your brain replies the “I was Namjoon” that you heard yesterday as you’d disappeared into your apartment. You try to keep your composure as you walk over to shake his hand.

“Oh! Hi, it’s you!” he exclaims as he takes your hand. “Hi, I’m Namjoon.”

You stare for a moment before your mouth catches up. “yn,” you blurt out, “is me.”

He laughs slightly, and you want to slap your forehead from the incredible awkwardness that is pouring out of you in this moment. Usually you carry yourself with confidence, trying not to let too many people see how awkward and dorky you actually are. But something about Namjoon just makes it impossible to hide.

Jimin had ordered dinner for the three of you, saying that neither him nor Namjoon are very good cooks. It makes you laugh because you would have been fine cooking for the three of you, but Jimin had insisted on providing dinner. You eat the pasta while the three of you chat and laugh. Once you loosen up a bit, you’re a little less awkward with Namjoon. You realize that you’re leaning closer to Namjoon and try to correct, but it just keeps happening.

A few times you think to yourself “is he flirting with me?” but you decide that he’s just a friendly, charismatic guy.

After dinner, you feel happy, full, but also light from the wine. You hug Jimin goodbye, and, when you turn to Namjoon, he’s holding his arms out to invite you in. You embrace him too. It feels right and comfortable. It’s much different being intentionally pressed against his firm chest than when you ran into it the day before. It feels like you fit perfectly in his embrace. Finally, you pull away, heat burning in your cheeks.

That night in the shower, you can’t keep the image of him out of your head. He held you in intellectual conversation about life and philosophy while also looking like a god. You wonder if Jimin is part of a club for unearthly hot men where he met his roommate.

You lie in bed, trying to keep your hands from exploring your skin to the image of him pressed against you. Finally, you give in and let your brain wander, feeling the heat wash over you. Your skin feels delicate and sensitive as you imagine the muscular figure on top of you, touching every inch of you. The pressure within you releases to the image of his face. Afterward, you feel a little embarrassed and tell yourself that you can’t do that again. He’s your nextdoor neighbor for goodness sake.

The next few weeks fly by with classes being in full swing, requiring most of your time to complete the work. You feel like you spend all of your time either in class or on your computer doing homework. You hardly even have time to get groceries, just living off of take out and the odds and ends in your fridge.

The leaves fall from the trees, and the air becomes crisp and sharp. You love this time of year because it means that Halloween and Christmas. For Halloween, you go to a party with some friends, and you see Namjoon and Jimin there with more of their unreal-looking friends. He’s dressed as a detective, with the trench coat and everything. You try to keep your mind from picturing what’s underneath the tight fitting white button up that he’s wearing with a skinny black tie. 

Your friends catch you staring at him and tease you relentlessly for the rest of the night. You try to keep your back to him, so you don’t get caught looking again.

One night in November, you are lying in bed scrolling on your phone when you keep hearing what sounds like tapping at your. You check, but you don’t see anything. As soon as you climb back into bed, it starts again. You try not to think about it, but it keeps getting to you. Everytime you look, it stops. Then you go back to bed and it starts again. It gets into your head enough, that you start to panic slightly. You figure that you can go ask Jimin to just come hang out with you for a little while or something until you feel more comfortable. He’s done it before, and you know he’d do it again.

When you knock on the door, Namjoon pulls it open. He smiles at you immediately when he sees you. He looks as gorgeous as ever, with his glasses settled halfway down his nose and his hair swept back off of his forehead.

“Hi, yn!” he exclaims, and you are surprised by the enthusiasm.

“Hi, Namjoon. Is, uh, is Jimin here?” you ask, looking behind him into the apartment.

“No, he’s out tonight. A date. What’s up?”

“Oh. Okay. Nevermind.” You feel your shoulders fall slightly as you turn to walk away.

“Wait, yn, what’s up? You seem upset.”

“There’s just this sound I keep hearing. Sometimes Jimin will come sit in my apartment with me when I’m scared, since I live alone.” You shrug and try to turn away again.

“Well...I can come hang out with you. I’m just working on some stuff on my computer,” he says, an ingenuous quality to his voice that makes you feel comforted just upon hearing it.

“Oh! Well, yeah. If you wouldn’t mind just hanging out with me, that would be great.”

He agrees, disappearing for a moment into his room, then reappearing with a backpack slung over one shoulder. “Lead the way.”

You lead him into your apartment that is dimly lit with string lights in the living room. You realize that this is the first time that he’s probably ever seen the inside of your place. You tend to feel vulnerable when you let people into your home, so you don’t invite too many people that aren’t your close friends over.

You like to keep the lighting in your place soft, so you mostly use lamps and string lights. Your bedroom is a pink, pastel haven that people think is funny because you tend to dress in neutral colors, especially in the winter. You don’t think that Namjoon will be able to see your bedroom at any point. It’s not like you’re going to be inviting him in. But you still can’t help but think about the dirty clothes strewn across the floor.

You gesture for him to take any spot he wants on the couch, and he plops down.

“I like it in here. It’s so soft,” he says, turning to you with his dimples showing.

“Oh, thanks. I’m just kinda of a soft person, I guess.” 

Your breath catches in your chest slightly, but you can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips when you hear it. You are just a big softy, but you don’t always show it. It feels nice to let Namjoon in a little bit.

You take your spot on the couch next to him, leaving some space between the two of you. You grab your phone and start scrolling again. He pulls his computer from his backpack, and the gentle tapping of his keyboard feels like music. You jump when you hear the tap outside again. You turn and look at Namjoon. He places his hand on top of yours, so you know that your eyes must give away how terrified that you are.

“Let me go check,” he says.

He gets up from the couch and goes to the living room window. You hear him hmmm-ing to himself as he looks out there, then you hear a sound of understanding.

“I think I found our culprit!” he announces to you and waves you over.

You cross the room to the window and lean out next to Namjoon. He has the flashlight of his phone shining down on a small bird’s nest attached precariously to the side of the building. There is a bird inside that was probably just tapping on the wall just below your bedroom window. You sigh in relief then start to laugh. You retreat back into your apartment, and Namjoon stands up fully next to you. You can feel the heat from his body with how close you’re standing.

He pulls the window shut and laughs with you. “See, nothing to worry about except a bird who didn’t get the memo to migrate.”

The two of you don’t move, just giggling and standing near each other. You look up at his face, and you realize how much his smile makes your heart sing. You feel a twinge between your legs and try to ignore it. Namjoon looks down at you, and soon he isn’t laughing anymore. The two of you just stand there staring at each other for a few moments, until he slides his hand around your neck, pulling you toward him. His plush lips find yours, and you wrap both of your arms around his neck, pull yourself even closer. Your chest presses against his.

Your mouths move together, then he slips his tongue past your lips, exploring your mouth gingerly. You gasp at the bolt of arousal that shoots through your body. He pulls back from you, his eyes searching your face.

“Crap. I’m sorry, yn. That was impulsive. You’re just so gorgeous when you laugh,” he says, eyes cast just behind you, not making eye contact.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you whisper as you move upward to his lips again.

The hesitation in his mouth dissipates, and he wraps his hands around your waste, gently rubbing the fabric of your shirt with his thumbs. You press yourself against him, letting your fingers lace into his hair, tugging at it slightly. You push your tongue into his mouth this time, and your tongues dance together, exploring. 

He slides his hand up inside your shirt, the soft skin of his palms exploring your back and sides. You moan slightly as your hair stands up on end from the contact. You pull a couple of soft pulls on his hair again, and he presses his groin against you. You can feel the bulge through his pants, and you can’t help the arousal that is now coursing through your body.

You pull away from him and ask hesitantly, “Would you want to...uh...go to the bedroom?”

He presses a soft kiss to your lips and nods. You lead him by the hand into your dimly lit bedroom, kick aside your discarded outfit from earlier. The two of you make your way to the bed. You push him down onto his back, and you straddle his hips. Your lips start to explore each other again, and you press your core against the hardness in his sweatpants. He grabs your shirt and tugs it over your head, so you do the same to him, eager to see what the bare muscles of his chest look like. You are not disappointed at the taut skin that covers the bulges on his chest and arms. You admire it for a moment before you return to kissing.

Things move quickly from there. All of your clothes are off, exploring how each part of your naked skin feels against his. and you feel like you don’t care if it’s too much too fast. He’s so attractive, he’s hard, and he’s kissing you. That’s all you could ask for. You lean over to the drawer in your bedside table and pull out a condom.

You hold it up and ask, “Do you want to?”

Once again, he smiles at you and nods.

You slide down between his legs, holding the tip of the condom and rolling it down to the shaft. You look up at him and smile a sly little grin before you lean over him and spit on his hard cock. You rub the spit in, making the whole thing slick, then repeat the same motion. He throws his head back as you stroke his cock. You do this a few more times before you crawl back up on top of him, positioning your entrance above his erection.

You slide down slowly, letting yourself take the time to adjust. Once you’re accustomed to the sensation and the stretch, you start to roll your hips, sliding up and down his length. You moan as his cock hits the most sensitive places inside you. You ride him until you can feel his cock twitching inside you.

“yn, I’m gonna…” he starts, his hands reaching up and grabbing your hips firmly.

His hips buck up against you, and you feel his cock twitch as he holds you down on his cock. You roll your hips in a small circle once he lets go, watching his abs tighten and relax as you do it. He falls back, panting slightly, and you giggle. You dismount from him. As he starts to soften, he slips the condom off and ties it. 

“Where should I…?” he asks.

You take it from him and put it in the trash can. You smile and snuggle into his chest.

“yn, next time, I promise to make you cum a bunch before I do since I didn’t get you there this time,” he says as his thumb rubs gentle little patterns on your cheek.

“Oh, so there will be a next time?” you ask, grinning up at him.

“I certainly hope so,” he says nervously. “I really like you, and that was a lot of fun.”

“It was, wasn’t it?” you say as you wrap your legs around his, getting comfortably snuggled in against his naked frame.

“So much,” he whispers as his lips press against your forehead.

[babbushka]

Good, Good, Good, Better

Medieval King!Kylo Ren x Reader 

3.1k ; Content warnings: Mention and description of food, NSFW (Aphrodisiacs, mutual masturbation, hand-feeding, bathtub sex, rough sex, PIV, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, dirty talk) 

Available on AO3!

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

He is not but three steps through the grand wooden doors which lead to the bed chambers, when he is met with your body colliding against his.

Without thinking, Kylo winds his arms around you to catch you as you jump into his embrace, an act on instinct born from having loved you for so long. Your laughter is bright as he spins you around, as your arms lock themselves around his neck.

“Kylo! Darling, you’ve returned just in time.” Your eyes are wide and filled with sparkling mirth, something far more than just the reflection of the golden candlelight. He holds you round your middle so that your feet do not touch the floor, and you cross your ankles behind you as you whisper low in his ear, “I’ve planned a very special meal for us this evening.”

“I’m ravenous.” He smirks at you, settling you down gently and pushing on your shoulders. You immediately go to your knees in the way he had hoped you would, and fuck do you look so good on your knees like that. “Come rest your ear against my stomach, see how it rumbles.”

You bite your lip, and from your spot on the floor you ruck up his tunic enough to expose his abs. A thick thatch of coarse black hair trails down from his naval, and you do not restrain yourself from the desire to lick the hard muscle which burns so hotly under your touch.

Laughing the slightest bit at your theatrics, Kylo pets down your hair and presses your ear to his abs, when at just the right moment, there is a rumble through him. Ravenous, indeed.

“How loud!” You grin up at him, so pleased that he has returned home to you in as good condition that he has. He is filthy, and hungry, but there are no wounds to be seen, and for this you are grateful. 

So grateful that you cannot help but be more playful than usual, so you smile as your cheek squishes against his abs, “Oh my King, this is a dire case, I must see at once that you are…satisfied.”

You look at one another, and he gives you a quirk of his brow, a suggestive quirk, as if to say, but you’re on your knees…

You don’t take the bait, instead getting up with a wide smile and taking his hand. He expects you to pull him through the castle and to the great hall, so when you head the opposite direction, head towards the bathing room he frowns concerningly.

“Blossom, this is…” He trails off though, when he sees the spread in front of him.

There is a large tub that has been brought to the center of the room, sitting over the fire pit which has gently been smoldering away, not much more than hot coals enough to keep the water steaming. A wooden plank stretches across one side of the tub, lavishly decorated with plates piled high with food and golden goblets of wine.

Floating in the water are herbs that produce a beautiful fragrance as they steep, candles are lit and near the opposite end of the bath, a musician is seated, gently strumming their lute.

“I thought you might like to enjoy your dinner with a long, hot, wet, soak.” You turn to your husband, licking your lips as your fingers deftly untie the yellow lacing which adorns your surcoat.

Kylo only hums in agreement, takes a step closer to you. You offer yourself to him, allow him to undress you in a way that he always clamors to do. The surcoat is a fine silk brocade, a pale blue with yellow filigree. It slips away from your body as Kylo unties it the rest of the way, and you practically shiver with anticipation as he unclasps a golden armband around the sleeve of your kirtle from each arm. After that, you are free to raise those arms above your head, and Kylo’s warm hands pull the bright blue kirtle up and over your head, letting it fall down to the floor, leaving you naked before him.

“Into the tub.” He instructs, reaching up to caress your cheek for a moment, before unpinning your hair and watching as it cascades down your back.

You do as you’re told happily, letting out a great moan as you step into the hot water, your body slinking down down down until your breasts are just barely covered. Kylo can see your nipples through the water, can see how they grow stiff as you adjust to the temperature. You look divine, next to the food. He doesn’t know what he wishes to feast on first.

Kylo rids himself of his clothing quickly, glad to have stopped by the armory to turn in his suit and mail for polishing before making his way to you. And make his way to you he does, the water spilling ever so slightly over the side of the great wooden tub, his muscles grateful for the heat of the water. Steam clings to his body as it does to yours, and he does not even think before corralling you onto his lap, licking and kissing slowly, steadily, at your throat.

“Open your mouth.” You whisper.

He looks up at you, sees what you have in your hand. You offer him what appears to be a large chunk of meat, roast venison and a perfectly soft and fragrant garlic clove. He accepts it, sucks on the fingers which enter his mouth as you press the food against his tongue. It is so flavorful, so tender and juicy, he moans as he licks up your wrist where a small droplet of sauce from the meat had rolled down.

“Again.” You grin, glad that the taste pleases him.

This time it is a large chunk of quail dipped in a pomegranate wine sauce, and the time after that it is steamed clams. Each bite is succulent, his mouth waters for it, so much so that he finds himself drooling as he watches you feed yourself in time. One for him, one for you, back and forth until your bellies begin to fill with the richness of the food.

Roast beef cooked as rare as was allowed, wrapped in a puff pastry spiced with saffron. Turnips, asparagus, carrots roasted in wine, scoops of hummus he licks and sucks off your fingers, out of your palm, kissing your skin after he swallows. You look at him with such joy, such heat behind your eyes.

“I know you have a plan of some sort, blossom, and if it were to kill me I’d be dead already.” Kylo teases, as he begins to feel…different.

Different in a good kind of way, different in a way that has him sweating – and not from the heat of the bath. His cock is achingly hard, his heart flutters, his stomach swoops, he finds that he has such a strong desire to fuck you that it’s beginning to take over every other thought in his mind. You are still on his lap, naked and beautiful and you smell so sweet, his dick rubs against your thighs and it has started to drive him mad.

Are you so affected? You must be, you’ve eaten the same foods, drank the same wine, surely you must be so affected.

He cranes his neck to look at you, and oh yes you are.

“Quite the opposite. I missed you.” You moan ever so softly as you move his hand.

Those hands of his have had a death grip on your waist and thigh, the way you’re seated on his lap has you turned sideways and your breasts are nearly pushed up into his face, he is nearly drooling with want.

“I was gone for two days.” His voice is husky, hoarse, as you guide one down between your legs, his large palm cupping your pussy. He can feel it pulsing for him, and his throat goes dry.

“Two days is a long time to go without my Knight in shining armor.” You whimper, pushing his hand against you more fully.

He gets the hint, and two of his thick fingers push into you easily to your absolute satisfaction. It’s a hard angle, but you waste no time wrapping your free hand around the thick shaft of his cock, giving it a steady squeeze. With your other hand, you reach back to the board of food and press a cream-covered chestnut into his mouth, and his cock only throbs harder.

“Oh!” Suddenly he understands, it’s the food that’s making you both like this, spurring you on. Something about the reaction your bodies have to the flavors, the spices, the something oh he doesn’t know, he doesn’t know but he wants more of it right now.

“There you are handsome.” Your face breaks into a breathtaking grin, and your hand speeds up, now that he’s finally gotten your plan all along. His moves in time with yours, and you lean your head on his shoulder as you jerk each other off, breathing a little quicker as you ask, “Feel good?”

“Y-yes,” Kylo is quick to respond, his fingers moving and stretching your cunt so you can better take him. He is so hard, his cock is so heavy in your hand even there under the water, the curve of it a promise of that sweet burn of pleasure as your fingers trail up and down the thick veins which protrude from it. “Heaven above your touch has never failed in its magnificence.”

“I’m so wet for you Kylo, feel me, touch me, see how wet I am.” Your mouth is dropped open, the wet shine of your tongue darting out to lick at your lips, and something in Kylo’s brain trips up when your hips open wide enough for him to slip in a third finger all the way to the knuckle.

“I – I have to fuck you.” He grunts out, and you’re nodding before he’s even finished getting the words out.

“Grab me, go on, be rough with me.” You encourage eagerly, quickly, happily, practically begging him, “I need you, Kylo, I need you.”

With all the strength he possesses, he lifts you clean off his lap and turns you more fully to straddle him. Your back is pressed firmly against his chest as he sits you hard on his hard and doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he’s planting his heels on the basin of the tub and thrusting up into you.

“Ah!” You gasp aloud, your mouth latching onto his throat, teeth sinking into the meat of his neck as your muffled voice moans, “You’re so big, fuck -- !”

“You can take it blossom, my good girl, I know you can.” He pulls out nearly all the way, feels the muscles of your pelvis clench around him, desperately wanting to keep him inside, before thrusting back in and knocking the wind out of you. “It’s – shit that’s tight – it’s only been two days.”

“You have to fuck me twice as hard, to make up for it, oh Kylo!” You arch your back slightly, just enough for your ribcage to expand as you take in sharp breaths on each hard push of his cock through the slick folds of your pussy.

The water does the unfortunate thing of washing away all the pretty slick that comes out of your body, but you are smart, so smart, and you’ve oiled up the water so that it might help things go smoothly, and Kylo groans groans groans as he shoves his cock farther into your cunt.

“Did you play with yourself while I was gone?” He demands to know, his arms hooking under your armpit and nearly holding you in a headlock, keeping you still. You’re squirming so much, the sensations from the food filling your whole body and driving you just as mad as he.

“No!” You wriggle against his hold, wanting to touch your clit, wanting to fuck yourself harder on his cock. He’s got you tight, the fast drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning loud, “No I saved it just for you, I haven’t come in ages!”

“M-me neither.” He grunts, pleased to hear this. Sometimes you’re not so well behaved, sometimes he has to punish you for not following his orders. But this time, this time you were good, he can tell, can tell by how tight you are.

“You gonna come in me?” The back of your throat clicks as tears of pleasure begin to cling up on your eyelashes, “Are you going to fuck me full of your big hot load?”

“(Y/N),” He pants grunts groans as the water splashes out of the tub, as he bounces you on his cock hard fast wet wet wet, so hot, burning up from the inside out, “Say my name, keep – I want to hear you crying for me.”

“Please! Please, I – Kylo, Kylokyloooohgod!” You’re shouting, eyes shut tight as your body tremors on top of his, as your teeth clack together from how your orgasm shoots up your spine.

Quickly, Kylo grabs that golden goblet from which he has sipped all night, cradles the back of your head gently yet firmly and tips the rim to your lips.

“Drink this and come on my cock.” He encourages, and you let it pour into your mouth, overflow all across your chin, let it drip and stream in rivulets between your breasts.

He has to see, has to taste it, so he pulls off of you for only long enough to turn you to face him fully, your legs shaking so badly that they cannot find purchase around his hips, so he must hold you up. You take the goblet in a pleasure weak hand and slosh spiced wine onto your breasts more heavily, your hand pushing Kylo’s head down to take them into his mouth.

“Fuuck,” He sucks and licks the wine off your nipples, broad strokes of his tongue as he lifts and lowers your hips fast fast fast and hard, fucks you on his cock, “I’m going to come in you, I’m going to come in your perfect fucking cunt.”

“Yesyesyesyes!” You’re hiccupping, crying around him, chin wobbling and eyes shut tight as you clench around him.

He slams his cock up into your pussy once more, his spine on fire from pleasure, tears coming to his own eye, drool hanging off his teeth and chin, as he comes and comes and comes, hot and thick, and so much of it that you’re sure you can feel it spreading through you. You’re moaning, and he’s grunting lowly against your chest, sounding almost like he’s in pain.

“I’m…fuck I’m still hard, I’m – ” Kylo’s starting to see spots, his vision clouding out as his cock pulses inside of you, spills and spills and spills but still craves more, “Blossom, don’t move don’t -- ohh.”

You lay him back against the edge of the tub, determined and hungry, eyes blown wide and pupils black with lust, as you find a second wave of energy to ride him fast fast fast, your hands braced on his chest as his cock splits you into two.

He grabs at your chest and kisses all over you, harsh biting kisses that will leave marks and bruises, the kind that when you’ve had your fill of one another, he will press his thumbs into to make you moan once again and again as they fade. He bites down, sucks and kisses at your shoulders, your breasts, your throat, his hand slipping down between your bodies to shakily rub at your clit.

“I’m so close, harder? Harder, please, please I’ll do anything – right there!” Your voice rises rises rises in volume until it breaks, cracks under the pressure of pleasure and screams for him, “Don’t you dare stop, don’t you fucking stop!”

“I won’t -- I need more,” Kylo’s jaw is dropped, his eyes rolled back into his head, visions of heaven sprayed behind his eyelids, visions of you. He does not even open his eyes to groan, “Stars, but you’re beautiful.”

You come again, your body wracked through with nerves so hard that you’re nearly convulsing, knees shuddering shaking around his wide hips. Your body collapses on top of his lap, gone limp in a way that has your hips relaxing and somehow, somehow, Kylo’s cock is forced deeper from the gravity of your relaxation.

He comes again, simply from the sheer all encompassing feeling of you – your body on his, your cunt tight hot wet on his cock, your hands in his hair, your taste on his tongue, your scent curling up into his nostrils and making him have no other means to function other than to come in you.

Your breathing is hot and ragged, both of you. The lute playing has since finished, the musician likely having gotten the hint and left the room unnoticed. Food has been knocked everywhere, goblets of wine are overturned. Everything is still, and Kylo is content to simply hold you and caress you as you rest your head on his chest.

He brushes your soaked hair away from where it sticks to your back, his calloused fingers grazing up and down your spine as he softly kisses your temple.

“Thank you, darling.” You sigh, your voice unsteady but filled with bliss.

“You’re trembling.” He chuckles deep in his chest, looks down at where you’re against his chest and kisses you properly, kisses your shaking smile.

“You’re still hard.” You shift your hips on his cock, not having pulled off of him yet. He groans softly, licking his lip as pleasure tickles his mind. You regard him with such love that he has to blush, when you say, “Tis a good thing then, that the fire underneath this bath has not gone out yet.”

“What have you done to me? What spell am I under?” He mumbles softly, teasingly, wanting to make you laugh. He does so love to hear you laugh.

“No such witchcraft, only the natural properties of a good meal, good wine, and good baths.” You wink at him, tucking his wet hair behind his ears. He blushes some more, embarrassed of the way his ears stick out, but you only give them a sweet tug.

“Mmm, and better pussy.” He agrees, picking up a last surviving piece of food that had not yet fallen off the board, and pressing it into your mouth, gearing up for a long night ahead.  

[sir-crocodile-smile]

Hello Smile, I saw your inbox opening and thought I'd try my chances! Could we get some headcanons for first times (e.g. first meeting, first kiss, first date...) headcanons for Sanji and Law? Thank you in advance, I hope you're having a great time. ♡

OMG MY FIRST REQUEST (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o)))

I will try to do these boys justice! I’m fairly new so pls bear with me!

Sanji

First Meeting

Ah, my son!! look at my beautiful boy

Sanji saw you while you were working at a stall in a market on your home island and immediately swooned

He spun like a top over to you, full heart-eyes, asking if the beautiful angel on earth before him would grace him with the knowledge of her name

He immediately follows up with introducing himself, asking if you would be so kind as to dine with him this evening

“Sure! Why not?” You giggle. And Sanji is. Shocked.

This. Never. Works. And yet here you are, smiling like the sun.

His face turns red as he stumbles over his words now, eyes still hearts but now he’s too flustered to make direct eye contact

He didn’t know it, but from this moment forward, his life would change

First Date

Your first date is that evening, as promised. Sanji prepares a delightful mix of food for you, since he isn’t sure what you like yet, and brings you on a picnic on a grassy hill

(this totally isn’t him freaking out that you actually said yes. not at all. he completely intended this 100% and is not one bit flying by the seat of his pants. he’s completely lying to himself calm)

He’s a perfect gentleman, treating this picnic blanket like the finest restaurant in the world

The food is amazing of course, and he takes mental notes on what you like, blushing so hard when you complement it that you’re worried he might pass out

He starts to relax a little and ask you about your life, get to know you some more. He’s not expecting you to be so interested in his life, his adventures with the Strawhat crew, but feels his heart come through his shirt when he sees how your face lights up with each story

The date ends, and he walks you home, bending to place a single kiss on the back of your hand before you go

First Kiss

You traded den-den mushi numbers before the Strawhats left the island. You and Sanji call each other regularly, usually when he’s cooking

He looks forward to talking with you so much. The second he hears your voice he shouts “Y/N -SWAAAAN!!! I missed your beautiful voice!!! How are you today?”

He thinks about you all the time, wondering how you are, missing your smile. The ache in his chest every time he thinks of you becomes unbearable

One night while on a call with him you sigh dreamily, “I wish I could go on adventures with you all”. He gets very quiet, asking if that’s what you really want.

As soon as he says yes, he’s out of the kitchen like a shot, begging Luffy to turn around. He bribes Luffy with promises of great food, and that you’d make a great addition to the crew. He’s so passionate, tears starting to well in his eyes, and when Luffy and the crew see how important you are to Sanji, of course they let you join!

Sanji is first off the ship when they arrive, running to you at full speed. You open your arms to him and he lifts you by your waist and spins you around, both of you laughing

When he finally calms down from the thrill of seeing you again, he sets you down and asks you quietly if this is what you truly want. The life of a pirate is dangerous, it’s unpredictable, but if you want to come with him, he swears to protect you no matter what it takes.

Your arms hug around his neck as you tell him there’s nothing you want more. Your faces are so close together, noses nearly touching. You can feel the heat coming from his blushing face. He slowly, gently leans in for a soft, tender kiss, communicating without words how much he cares for you.

And then poor Sanji goes directly into cardiac arrest lol

Omg this turned into a mini-fic. I probably spent too long on this but idc! It’s my first request, it gets to be special.

Law under the cut b/c LONG

Law

First Meeting

Law firsts spots you when he’s conducting research at a library on his route through the Grand Line. At first it’s with a little annoyance in his eyes; you’re reading one of the books he was interested in

But he’s a patient man, he can read something else while waiting for you to finish. You catch him staring at you multiple times, his intense eyes burning a hole in you

Eventually you just ask him what the hell his problem is. He smirks, and tells you not to be so jumpy. He’s just waiting for you to finish with that book

You, to his surprise, suggest he just sit next to you and read over your shoulder. He’s tall enough to. He hesitates. You playfully joke, “Come on, I don’t bite”. You don’t seem to be intimidated by him at all

You read together for a good while, both politely pausing to let the other take notes. Law hums every now and again when he reads something that catches his attention. At some point he gets so absorbed in the text that he starts to lean closer, his breath ghosting over your neck

You don’t see a single word on that page

“Shame I missed the first part...” he mutters when you both are done. You smile and offer to copy the notes you made and give them to him. His eyebrows pop up in surprise and a slow, relaxed smile begins to spread on his face

“Same time tomorrow...” he begins, flipping open the cover of the book to read your name on the check-out slip. “Y/N-ya?” Your face grows hot as you nod to him, tongue-tied.

He walks away casually, before you remember to ask for his name

First Date

You and Law are doing research together, as you usually do. He stretches, letting out a yawn

“I need coffee. You coming with me, Y/N-ya?”

Of course you do. How can you say no to this man?

He insists on paying for you both, teasing that there’s no way your pockets go as deep as his (he’s right, but heyyy)

You make casual conversation, both sipping on your coffee and enjoying the break from research. The conversation lulls, but it’s a comfortable silence as you gaze out the window of the cafe.

Something brushes your fingertips. You turn to see Law’s fingertips just barely interlaced with yours. He’s looking out the window, avoiding your eyes

In this moment, the strong, capable captain of the Heart Pirates looks timid, like your hand is a bear trap he’s reaching into against his better judgement. You gently move your hand closer to his, thumb brushing the tattoos on his fingers to soothe him

He lets out a breath he was holding in, small smile coming to his face, warmth spreading in his chest

You guys definitely argue about whether this was technically a date or not later lol

First Kiss

“You stay right here, Y/N-ya”, Law says, setting you down in a hiding spot away from the violence and commotion that broke out

You argue with him. You can fight! He knows you can. You are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself, and he shouldn’t go out there alone

This is not up for discussion in Law’s opinion. He’s a cautious man to his core, but this was a little extreme

You’re already pushing past him to head into the fray with your comrades when he grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back

You’re about to yell when his lips are on yours, stealing your thoughts and breath. He kisses you fiercely, passionately, pulling away to gasp for breath

You’re both a little stunned as he rests his forehead to yours

“I need you to be safe...” he whispers. You nod, not willing to argue with him anymore after realizing how much he cares about you

He steals one more kiss, softly this time but with so much need, before turning to join his crew in the fight

HOO BOY that was a lot!! I hope things weren’t too OOC, this is my first time writing for these lovely boys. I hope you enjoy this!!

[lilacsandwhiskey]

Happy

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Song inspo: CWJBHN / Jake Scott

Warnings: alcohol usage, fluff

“It’s raining.”

A smile tugged on your lips as the boy on the other end of the phone spoke.

Tom’s thumb tapped the lip of the bottle as he stared at you, wanting to know anything and everything about you. “What’s your favorite kind of weather?” He asked. You let out a small laugh at the question, thinking if you’d ever been asked that. “I love a rainy day.”

You peaked out the window, taking in the gray sky surrounding you, fog rising from the pavement. The rain fell slow and steady. You felt your mood shift, a happiness erupting through your body. “You’re right.” “I’ll be there in 15.” Tom said before hanging up.

Months ago when you’d answered that question, you had no idea how Tom would use that to get closer to you. When you’d met him after a break up at a bar, sulking on your own, he walked up to you, confident, kind, but not over the top. Other guys had walked up, practically demanding a good time, but Tom walked asking for friendship (fishy, right?). He made you more comfortable when he invited you to sit among his friends, after you’d told him you were new to the city. There was no doubt you’d all hit it off quickly and hanging out became more normal as time passed by.

Your friendship was instantaneous. You found yourself fond of the brown-headed boy. He took his time to get to know you, but there was no doubt you’d found him so easy to open up to. He’d watch you, listen to every word you had to say, and then - he’d remember.

The first time you noticed he remembered small parts of your conversations is when you had briefly mentioned that you were so obsessed with dachshunds. He just so happened to see one on the sidewalk while going for a morning jog and snapped a quick picture, sending it and mentioning that he’d thought of you.

Then he was back in London, and though you hadn’t seen much rain in LA, it was raining there. He called you just to tell you it was raining. You felt your cheeks heat up at someone taking the time to know you, study you, and memorize you.

Tom was patient with you above all. He knew how ruined your ex had left you several months ago, and how sudden movements and words could send your mind to places. You’d opened up to him about it one late night over a bottle of red wine in your scarce apartment that you were still trying to make your own.

——————

When he pulled up outside of your complex, you tugged the rain jacket that you hardly got to use over your chest before running out. The boy was out and opening your door before you reached the car. Head down but laughing, Tom ushered you in his car before trudging through the new puddles to get into the driver side.

“What’s the occasion?” You asked as he plopped down in his seat, slightly breathless from the quick movements. “It’s your favorite weather and we’re in the same place for once. Gotta take advantage of that.” He responded, giving you a smile before turning the radio up just a tad that it covered the comfortable silence between the two of you.

Your conversation built up further into the drive as you whisked through traffic. Tom heard you mention that you’d end up finding a chill Thai restaurant a few weeks ago, but he wasn’t in town to experience it. “Why not now?” He said, handing over his phone for you to type in the address.

When you’d both pulled up to the small restaurant, there were hardly anyone in the parking lot. The weather had cleared out some traffic, making it easier to maneuver through the city. As you walked in, Tom slipped his hand into your own, pulling you towards a small booth towards the back of the restaurant. The feeling of Tom’s hand in yours made your heart skip a beat, recognizing the soft grip of his calloused hand in yours. A blush crept to your cheeks as you sat down across from him.

After ordering, Tom sat back in the booth, twirling the straw wrapper in between his fingers. “Missed you so much these last few weeks.” He said with a grin. “I missed you too. It was hard not giggling over a bottle of red with you.” You replied, giving him a small smile. “Hm, maybe we should buy a bottle and do that tonight, whatdya say?” “Let me check my calendar.” You replied with a small laugh.

The conversations were easy. Tom told you about his time visiting with his family, how he’d gotten to go golfing with his brothers and dad, the walks he’d take Tessa on, the new cafe that opened minutes down the road from his childhood home that him and Harrison went to everyday to try a new flavor of pastry each time. You talked about your new job, the new friend you’d made in your complex, the time you thought you ran into Adam Sandler at a restaurant last week but it definitely wasn’t him.

Tom always listened with intent, asking questions to make sure that you knew he was listening. The food had arrived and you’d both been shoveling the food down, talking between bites. Laughter erupted one too many times, receiving odd looks from others in the restaurant, but neither of you minded.

It was hard not to fall for Tom. He was beautiful, really. His curls were always perfectly placed, no matter how messy, his eyes always bright with admiration. He was patient with you, understood why you could be stand-offish in certain situations because of your past. He never failed to remind you that you were important to him. He was smooth, no doubt, come backs and flirting was simple with him.

Tom had so easily fallen for you fast. From the moment he watched your chemistry with his friends, to the talks, the calls, everything, he found himself so intrigued. You were unlike anyone he’d ever met - so gentle and kind, so honest but never rude. But he knew you were still healing, and he was more than understanding of that.

As you walked out of the restaurant, Tom grabbed your hand, running through the pelting rain. Laughter erupted from the two of you as he quickly opened your door, with “love, get in, I’m soaked!”

When he jumped in the driver seat, he let out a breath, taking a look over at you. Giggles continued as you noticed his curls matted to his forehead, droplets of water littered over his freckles. If you weren’t so unsure of what this moment could’ve held, you would’ve kissed him. But you didn’t.

He seemed to hold your gaze a little longer than usual. “So about that wine…” He half-whispered, breaking the trance he’d held with you. “Oh yeah.” You say, recognizing you’d have to stop once more at the store.

One stop later, you were both on the way to his LA apartment where he’d stay in town. You wanted to curse yourself for not asking him to stop by your place so that you’d be able to grab a change of clothes, but the boy must have read your mind.

When you’d made it up the stairwell into his place, he’d set the brown paper bags on the counter, saying “wait here.” He walked back with a towel, a t-shirt and joggers. “You can change in my room, I’ll take the bathroom.” He said with a smile.

You felt your heart do flips as you pulled the shirt over your head, noticing the familiar scent of the boy lingering all over you. It was intoxicating in the best ways. You’d never wore any of his clothes before besides a hoodie here and there when you were out, which you always made sure to return even when he opposed.

When you walked out, your breath hitched seeing his loose gray sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips with a white t-shirt hugging his fit body. He had a speaker in his hand as he scrolled through his phone, music lightly playing in the background. He hadn’t noticed you enter from out of his room yet so when you walked over, his head snapped up but instantly his jaw dropped.

“You, uh, look better in my clothes than me.” Tom said, a smile covering his face. “That’s a bold statement, Holland”.

Music playing softly in the background, the television on playing some cooking show, and the two of you sat in the kitchen at the small table where matching win glasses were across from each other, never going empty.

A few glasses in and there the two of you were, giggling through the alcohol high that was produced. You weren’t entirely sure it was just the alcohol. That’s when Tom’s hand covered your own on the table, eyes beginning to gloss over.

“You know, it’s funny how the world works?” He said, staring across the table at you. “Yeah?” “Yeah. Like I just meet you one day and suddenly you’ve become my favorite person.”He hiccups, causing the both of you to let out laughter.

Your face felt warm as he pulled you over to the couch another glass later. “Cuddle me.” Tom begged, giving grabby hands as you sat on the other side of the couch. You couldn’t help but laugh, and though you’d cuddled before, platonically, you felt the butterflies erupting in your stomach and throat and everywhere else on your body.

You struggled allowing yourself to feel like this. It was Tom Holland for crying outloud, and you were just some regular girl with a regular job. You’d been hurt, and you let that creep into all your thoughts everytime Tom would attempt to get closer to you.

So as you fell into his side, his arm coming across your back and twirling tiny circles on you hip and side, you felt yourself get nervous. Tom must have noticed because he looked over with another hiccup and frowned. “I’m sorry, am I being too much?” “No, never, I just…”

He interrupted with another hiccup and blurted, “I like you.” His glossy eyes widened recognizing the words that left his lips. You played it off with responding, “I like you too.” “No, uh, oh what the hell, no like I like like you.” Tom said, giggling as he pressed his head into your shoulder.

Your heart was swelling with each interaction but perhaps how much was this true? He was a little drunk. As if the boy could actually read minds, he pulled back with a worried look on his face. “I’m not drunk enough to not know what I’m saying. I will remember this in the morning.”

You let a laugh slip your lips at the boys abruptness, and you couldn’t find it in you to want to argue. You had for sure fallen for him, but you were so scared of this too. You didn’t want him to realize that you were broken, that you weren’t worth it in the end. Tom had never made you feel like that though. He was always patient and kind and made sure you were comfortable. He checked in on you, even on his busiest days. He showed you he cared.

His forefinger came to the side of your head and poked. “I see those wheels turning up there. Did I say something wrong?” His voice wavered, the once confident voice was now weaker than before.

“No, no, I just. I really like you too, Tom. I just don’t want you to be burdened by me.” “Burdened? Are you insane?! Woah, no, didn’t mean it like that. But you could never. If anything, I’d burden you with my constant need of affection from the prettiest girl. I can’t keep my hands off you.”

With a laugh, the boy pulls you closer. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on in that beautiful mind up there, but I do know this. You deserve to be happy, we both do. Can we just… be? Be happy? Let me show you how special and important you are.” “Maybe we should talk more about this sober, but I will say this - you do make me happy and I’d be happy to explore this with you. Just not drunk.”

Tom giggled with another hiccup. “I think you’re right, but I’ll definitely remember this. I couldn’t forget the prettiest girl in the world telling me she likes me back.” His tousled curls tickled your cheek as he nuzzled deeper into your neck. “You think I’m pretty huh?” You retort, shaking your head at the affections. “Mhm, the prettiest.” He replies, leaving a small kiss on your shoulder. “The prettiest, darling.”