#don’t mind if i do🤭🥵🥵

[arcadia345]

Sextrology notes🥀

MINORS DNI🔞

Not a real astrologer this is just my observations and personal experiences as a Jupiter in 8th natal‼️

Book a reading❤️

Aries/1st house eros composite- could’ve gotten into the bedroom quicker than expected(or at least tried to), if not then regardless the sex is ROUGH. Lots of sweat and friction burns, bruises from the night before 🥴 “Everyone KNOWS that he f*cks you.” Vibe you can’t hide behind the tension with this one lmao. Could be your first time in a way? I had this with the first yt and the first black girl I’ve been with

Taurus mars/eros- kiss/rub their neck and see how quickly they fold😎 they adore nice smells vmuch bad smells turn us off so bad but if you smelll good I swear we’ll remember you and your sent FOREVER. We also love physical touch we love a good body rub we like all our senses to be aroused. I try to at least keep one hand on my lovers/ vice versa😭#clingy we’re also possessive of our partners to a extent

Gemini/3rd house eros esp in composite have the most fun in bed. Usually a short term relationship doesn’t have to be tho. You two will try new things together sexually. They’re very lighthearted and curious and down with whatever😌 they’ll try anything at least once😏. Mental and oral stimulation is a must here. Definitely prone to sex with more than one person at a time

Eros in Aquarius/cancer,4th/11th combination in composite every time I’ve had this with someone they changed my perspective on life/sex I swear😂 the sex was so mind blowing 🤯 just thinking about it got me stuck. Me and the first girl I did it with have this in composite and omg I did not know I was THAT into girls till she popped up(even tho I’m pans)🥴 my first time feeling sparkles during sex ✨(a man could never 👎)you might feel emotionally vulnerable with them and they might not be your type fr that’s why the sex is so shocking like dang I didn’t know you’d have me feeling like this now I’m stuck. Unforgettable. We also used toys

Cancer eros/mars have a creampie obsession or they lovve boobs ofc, they tend to match the same energy as their partner sexually wise but they can get really really freaky if you ask them nicely 🤭

Leo mars/eros- they love to put on a show in bed, they could be really playful/teasing/loungeful before the act. It’s like they love to tease you until you can’t take it anymore forcing you to make the first move( you need to show them how badly you want them) They look so hot all the faces they make🥵 esp when ur taking a quick break in between and they look so effortlessly good, if the chemistry/sex is good they’ll probably ask if they can record cuz they’re not gonna waste storage on some wack 💩 you can definitely learn something from them

I’ve had Leo in Eros in composite with someone and they’re the only person I needed to take a plan b with after the deed🧍🏽‍♀️

Pisces eros- likes to dive into the taboo side of sex, sex for them could cause them confusion instead of clarity most times. They like to fulfill their fantasies I feel like they have more opportunities to do that than others. The only guy I know with this said he had like 20 bodies??😟 but I’m pretty sure it’s only that high cause they never come back for seconds🤣 perfect example he needs to do some healing before he tries to sleep with someone 🧏🏽‍♀️

Neptune aspects to eros like to be under the influence while having sex. They get really sleepy also

Just like Aquarius eros they like to record/ have cybersex/have a audience

I love how everyone always says scorpios are the freakiest 😂😂😂(they’re up there tho) and us cancers/virgos/taurus just chuckle 🤭

Cancers literally speak to ur soul in the bedroom. We bring out desires that you never knew you had. We’re literally the sign of the motherrr like we really know what’s best for you (us). That’s why they always come back for more🤣🤣 and plz don’t let them have mommy issues they’ll be stuck for life

Virgos😂😂😂😂😂 nobody talks about how the ♍️ symbol looks just like ♏️ (aka they hide their crazy/freaky side very well) they’re adaptable and they aim to please, if you’re satisfied then so are they. And they’re sooo good with their fingers and mouth like Geminis.

Tauruses they need to be satisfied before anything like being fed and taken care of before the deed, but once they see you deserve their time or loyalty they turn into a demon for you😈 drunk and love vibes buss the windows out ur car then have makeup sex yk? But ngl if their underdeveloped they may give ♍️ vibes to their partner instead

Libra Mars/Eros I’ve only had bad experiences with this one but they were sags so plz understand where I’m coming from. They love the IG baddies with the bubble 🍑 and cute aesthetics. They love “plastic barbies”/ dolls . They’re in love with the idea of love. Definitely have more than one person on their roster. They LOVE lingerie and pastel laces esp the men yk they fw it when they don’t take the panties off just pull them to the side🤣Depending on their chart I wouldn’t associate with this eros/mars their standards are unrealistic and problematic :/

Now composite libra in eros is a different experience for me, it feels like a romantic comedy, the head over heels vibes before you even make it to the bed🥰. These two could enjoy being in each other’s presence more than having sex? Like they genuinely enjoy eachothers company sm they kinda skip over that part sometimes lol. Also other people could try to intervene with you two?? In a sense 👀

Also most every Virgo/libra/sag guy (except 3, I think it’s more likely to happen if they’re underdeveloped signs)I’ve fw never liked to give head??? But it was mandatory that they received some???😃 the excuse was always they’re not in the mood/ that’s dirty/ their mouth hurts??💀💀💀 so my 🐱 is too dirty to eat but clean enough to f*ck? but ur 🍆 is clean to do both???🤣🤣🤣 neverrr again this why I’m gay asf now Chile

Sag mars/eros 😂 good luck trying to tie them down. They’re the most promiscuous/adventurous when it comes to sex. They love trying new things really down with whatever! Car sex, or just sex in public in general 😵‍💫 I promise y’all they dgaf. Also these people will change your way of thinking, a catalyst of self development. For me they were always the fboy that made me learn my lesson 😭. They push you to evolve.

Capricorn/10th Eros composite- sex definitely isn’t something you two rush into. Could be more on the reserved side at first. It may be mandatory that you build a deeper connection/commitment before anything sexual happens. It could be a while before anything sexual happens. There could be an age difference here as well. One person could be unexperienced. If you have this with someone and the sex isn’t that great the first time please don’t give up on them 😭 the more you get to understand eachothers bodies the better the sex will be. Bdsm could be a thing here. The type to tie you up/restrain you/ f*ck ur brains out and call you out of ur name but have mini wellness checks in-between. Edging and age play could be a thing. You two could start a OF👀

🍆 indicators

Look at their mars aspects it’s very important. I’ve seen a lot of 🍆s yall so ik what I’m talking about 😂 the biggest one I’ve ever seen had Mars ☌ Jupiter like HUGE🫣😰 harsher aspects to Jupiter is what you want to look for. Now if he has aspects to Saturn but none to Jupiter…… it’s probably on the smaller scale 😭this could also mean good stamina/ hard to climax.

Mars ☌ Uranus surprised me which is on point 😂 very freaky placement uhm their 🍆s look pretty most of the time usually has a curve, definitely gonna hit you with some unusual positions that all feel weirdly good🥴

Mars ☌ Neptune is a less common aspect I’ve seen could have more length than girth but they’re really long. I feel like this is the unsolicited 🍆 pic sender💀 the ones that think everyone needs to see their🍆🙄/ people could fantasize on how they are in bed

🐱 indicators

Honestly idk any I feel like every 🐱 is good if you know how to please it right😌 but the ones that don’t need any assistance is 8th/12th house placements fs esp Jupiter/Neptune/mars. And prominent water signs in the chart

Pisces/12th house Eros in composite ‼️⚠️‼️ definitely not something to take lightly. The energy you two share is sacred. Very spiritual experience I don’t recommend this placement if you’re not aligned on a spiritual level. Lies/hidden motives could be involved. The f*ck you back to sleep placement. Sex so good you both sleep like you work 3 jobs after. I swear he put me into a meditative state while having sex I had to snap out of it 😭 also he was only person to make me orgasim ever to this day our bodies just blended so well together like water💧also he loved my feet?? Bon appetite!

Just experienced this composite again and it’s literally the samee feeling omg the discreetness and blurred lines/taboo feeling, the way our bodies just work so well together ommmg😩 we love to watch eachother? Sexting/stalking placement. And he loves my feet too💀. Sleep is really prominent here.

That’s all for now💋 just wanted to post for my 3year tumblr anniversary 🥹❤️

#astro observations #follow for more #capricorn #astrology transits #astro notes #asteroid astrology #ask me anything #celebrity astrology #hi #astro #composite #synastry chart #composite chart #sextrology #18+ only #18+ post #18+ account #18+ content #18+ blog #sagittarius #Gemini #cancer #leo #Virgo #Libra #my asks #fill my ask box #ask ask ask #send asks #venus

[leovenuslatina]

wet dreamzzz ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

ᡣ𐭩 •｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅

THIS IS A 18+ READING. MDNI !!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

his late night thoughts about you *wink wink*

(basically the thoughts they please themselves too🥵✊🏾💦)

꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊this is just a reminder that tarot isn’t permanent or set in stone YOU decide how your life goes no one or nothing else now take a deep breath and choose the pile that calls to you ₊˚⊹ ᰔ౨ৎ₊˚⊹

TW: THIS SHIT GETS WILD

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piles one - the moon, seven of swords, nine is pentacles

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

okay so i’m seeing he’s staying up ALL night just thinking about you. you have him seriously in love i see him like making up scenarios in his head and just replaying them over and over and any sweet or romantic moments you two have he can’t stop thinking and smiling about it. i’m also seeing him replaying all the time you two have had sex he’s in love with how you look underneath him 😍. he thinks about bending you over somewhere secret like in a closet at a party or in an empty parking lot. he gets off to the thought of him having you all to himself he likes the idea that you have to rush to make each other cum before the two of you get caught. he thinks about taking you away from prying eyes and doing whatever he wants to you. he really likes bending you over okayyy he’s like so in loveeee with that ass he may even like pulling your hair while he thrusts into you from behind whispering sweet nothings into your ear. he may also think about role playing with you meeting in a bar or something and pretending like you’re strangers and having a quickie in the bathroom.

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pile two - ace of swords, wheel of fortune, eight of cups

₍^⸝⸝> ·̫ <⸝⸝ ^₎

their late night thoughts about your pile two are pretty dark and twisted 🤭 i don’t know if he’ll tell you about them because im seeing these are like deep deep secret thoughts they have they’re super depraved and thirsty for you like putting you in handcuffs and freaking you all night til you collapse. He thinks about tying you up taking full control of you he might have a fetish for like ropes and stuff he’s a huge freak god damn lmao. they think about you giving them a hand job i’m seeing he’s huge into body worship like you worshiping his dick or like they just think about you on their dick they have a fast paced mind when it comes to you one perverted thought after another. in his mind he can go as wild as possible and not worry about any sort of judgment not that he thinks you’ll judge him he just knows his freaky lil mind would make others shudder. he thinks about being real rough with you leaving hickeys and bites all over your body throwing you like his own personal sex doll. your person has a very overactive imagination.

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pile three - queen of swords, death, the hanged man

(,,>ヮ<,,)!

their late night thoughts are you just you everything about you turns them on. they think about watching you and what you look like when you’re in bliss. watching you playing with yourself watching you moan and sigh but not just that. just watching you do normal daily activities like reading or eating they are your BIGGEST simps omggg. literally just imagining your gorgeous face makes them so hard or wet it just gets them all hot and bothered. your person imagines you in a threesome if that’s not something you’re into that’s okay because these are just late demon hour thoughts lol. they probably have a huge kink about seeing you getting it on with another person. their kink is your delight so the thoughts that filled their mind are not entirely dirty i wouldnt be surprised if he has a folders of your smiling selfies just to beat off too. you honestly are their only thought not just late at when he’s alone.

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for paid private readings dm me 💘

3 questions - $20

6 questions - $30

long channeled message - $90

plzzz no questions about health or death ☠️

#black tarot readers #pick a card tarot #tarot #daily tarot #pick a pile #tarot cards #tarotblr #tarotcommunity #tarot daily #future spouse #18+ mdni #mdni #18+ content #18+ only

[sl0t4matt]

hard launch with hector fort 🙏🏻🙏🏻

h. fort | hard launch

love love this trope. thank u, anon!! also added a few more posts than just the hard launch hope u don’t mind :)

youruser kinda in my wag era rn

liked by hctorforrt_ and 679.055 others

random OMG WHAT

random she’s fine af how did he pull her lmao

╰┈➤ random they are both very attractive bro

random did somebody say hard launch?!

yourbestfriend hottest wag

╰┈➤ youruser luv u

random who’s she and why is she with hector

╰┈➤ random prolly his gf

hctorforrt_ i still don’t know what that means

╰┈➤ youruser r u slow i told you like 10 times

lamineyamal thank god i can’t keep secrets

╰┈➤ youruser 🙄🙄

╰┈➤ random lmao lamine knew

random can someone watch my grwm? 🥺

╰┈➤ random no 🥺

marcguiu9 someone took my bitch

╰┈➤ youruser bohoo 🥺

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ marc 😫🫃

╰┈➤ youruser homosexuals

╰┈➤ random theyre dating atp

╰┈➤ random LMAO i love her 😭

random noo hector 😓

random wha- shocked.

lamineyamal gonna be a long ass era

liked by creator

hctorforrt_ still not sure how i pulled this 

liked by marcguiu9 and 308,940 others

youruser ur cute

random hottest couple

random i think we missed a chapter or two

random crying rn she’s pretty tho

fcbarcelona champ on and off the pitch 🤙

liked by creator

random lol this came out of nowhere

random she’s beautiful

liked by creator

random WTH HE HAS A GIRLFRIEND

╰┈➤ random yes and she mogs u

random they compliment each other so well

╰┈➤ random fr both hot af

marcguiu9 i accept i guess

╰┈➤ youruser thank you for your blessing🙏🏼

_ferminlopez my kids

╰┈➤ random daddy

╰┈➤ _ferminlopez come again?

╰┈➤ random oh

random she only wants him for money

╰┈➤ youruser omg you caught me 😰

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ lmao

╰┈➤ random she’s a model i’m sure she has her own money

433 goat good luck!

liked by creator

random HARD LAUNCH ⁉️

hctorforrt_ added to their story

hctorforrt_ she said she would look “so sexy” pregnant

╰┈➤ youruser bitch why would u post that (i would totally rock being preggo)

hctorforrt_ wym you always look good (only with my children tho)

youruser you flirt 🤭 also i’m totally not letting you get away with this

hctorforrt_ yeah sure

hctorforrt_ i was zipping up her dress lol

liked by youruser and 208.086 others

youruser stop talking big you literally couldn’t do it for shit

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ i did it in the end tho

╰┈➤ youruser yeah when we were already late

random the last one 😍 she’s so cute

lamineyamal papi when r u posting yourself 🥵

liked by creator

╰┈➤ paucubarsi i miss his face too 😔

╰┈➤ marcguiu9 me three

╰┈➤ youruser ew

╰┈➤ random they are so funny 😭

youruser i’m gonna get revenge for the story wait up

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ shivers down my spine 😱

╰┈➤ youruser okay bitch it just got worse

paucubarsi i think she has something on her nose

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ omg really bro 😱

╰┈➤ youruser leave him alone 🙄

random it’s always the models

╰┈➤ random literally stop calling yourself a fan when you say shit like that

╰┈➤ random just let him be happy omg?!

youruser i’m kind of liking this wag lifestyle

liked by marcguiu9 and 469.976 others

marcguiu9 JAJAJAJAJA

liked by creator

random omg haha hector looks so cute in that picture

lamineyamal slaying fr

╰┈➤ youruser ate fr

paucubarsi the pic of hector is killing me

╰┈➤youruser u and everyone else

hctorforrt_ you’re evil

╰┈➤ youruser it’s your own fault 🥱

hctorforrt_ just because i’m in love w u doesn’t mean u can do shit like that!!!

╰┈➤ youruser aw you’re in love with me 🤭

lamineyamal nah deserved after that story

╰┈➤ youruser i know right!

╰┈➤ paucubarsi fr did you dirty with that

╰┈➤ hctorforrt_ you’re supposed to be MY friends?!

╰┈➤ youruser hah! they love me more

fcbarcelona hector always been a culer 💙❤️

liked by creator

random why is no one talking about how good she looks?!

liked by creator

#fc barcelona #barca #pablo gavi #hector fort #marc guiu #lamine yamal #hector fort x reader #la masia #pau cubarsi

[pinguwrites]

I want step dad cillian with needy/pervy reader who comes into his room one night and just starts grinding on his cock (over clothes😔) and he’s like no stop this is wrong but she keeps doing it and he keeps telling her to stop until he comes in his underwear🤭 and I’m debating writing it myself but your step dad cillian shit is fire so like,, if you’re taking requests,,,, I’m requesting that skdjsk. Anyway I love you bestie <3 lmk if you decide you don’t want to write it cause I’ll probably do it💀 (eventually..)

🥵 🥵 thankyouthankyouthankyou

A Father and a Lover ⸻ Cillian Murphy

pairing | cillian murphy x stepdaugher!reader

summary | Cillian Murphy is trying to be a good dad for you. It proves more difficult than he expected.

word count | 1.1k

Warnings: dub-con but cillian's lowkey into it, age-gap (reader's eighteen and cillian's late thirties/early fourties), stepcest, grinding, dd/lg kink, princess nickname, PROCEED WITH CAUTION — DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT COMFORTABLE

Disclaimer: This is not a reflection of Cillian Murphy's actual life. This is completely separate and is not intended to harm him or his family in any way. DNI if you're a Yvonne hater. This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Cillian Murphy was trying his best to take care of you. He hadn’t expected your mother — his ex-wife — to up and skip town all those years ago, leaving you, a girl who was barely out of elementary school, vulnerable and in need of protection, in his arms, with no help, no money, no nothing.

He didn’t regret it at all, of course. At least, not anymore. The thought of you not in his life sent him into a spiraling panic, a desperate haze that could only be cured by your comforting touch. To think that he once looked into your eyes and felt a heavy weight of burden on his shoulders, killed him. If you hadn’t shown up — well, he was sure what he would have done.

As a child, you were easy to raise, and as a teenager, you never got into any sort of trouble. You passed your classes reasonably well and did the chores without complaint, you never smoked or did drugs or mess around with boys. No. You were daddy’s little girl. A good girl. A happy girl, content with her step-dad’s care.

It was only when you started to grow did things start to change. In his eyes, you were still his daughter, but there was something more — a dark lust hidden in the crevices of his mind that told him you were his in more ways than one.

Cillian had watched you grow all these years, but never like this. Not with your breasts big, nipples showing through the loose shirts you wore at home because he told you it was okay and that you were safe wearing those things around him. Not with your round ass that made you look like a woman, the ones men drooled over. Not with the way you still insisted on sitting on his lap, shifting around and claiming you were only doing so because you were uncomfortable, even though he knew you weren’t stupid and could tell what that was doing to him.

Cillian never wanted to hurt you, and he never would, but sometimes it was hard. And sometimes, things just happened. Like tonight, when you snuck into his room and made him cream through his pants.

+++

“Daddy?”

Your knock was light, just enough to get Cillian’s attention. He looked up from the book that he was reading and smiled, asking you to come in. He expected this, as you would ask to sleep with him most nights, but he didn’t expect you to be wearing just a bra and panties.

He cleared his throat, his cheeks dusted with a fine pink. “Aren’t you cold?” he asked, trying not to focus on the fact that you were practically naked, clothing designed to accentuate your body.

“A little.” Your tone was fairly quiet. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

Cillian’s heart warmed. “Yes, princess. C’mere.”

He held out his arms, to which you took them, letting him guide you to his side. You crawled underneath the blanket and cuddled up next to him. Your warmth spread over him like wildfire, beckoning him to pull you closer.

“Do you want me to read you a story?” he asked, looking down at you with a soft gaze in his eyes. He ignored the way your breasts were pressing up against him. He also ignored his erection, hot and heavy.

“No. I have something different in mind,” you said, a sly, innocent look on your face.

“Oh?”

"Mhm."

Despite Cillian's protests and his desperate attempts to push you off, you planted yourself firmly on his body, right on his cock. Cillian let out an involuntary groan, bucking his hips upwards for a moment. Shame flooded his body, and he stuttered trying to explain himself.

"P-princess, can you please get off?"

He didn't look you in the eye. He knew you must have felt his boner, you were sitting right on it!

"What's this, daddy?" you asked, rubbing yourself on him. "What's this hard thing?"

"You know what it is," Cillian hissed, his hands on your hips. "Don't play dumb."

You giggled. All Cillian wanted to do was smash his lips against yours, but no — he couldn't. He shouldn't. He had to control himself, for both your sake and his.

"I think I need a lesson."

Cillian sighed, trying to halt your movements, but it didn't work. You just kept rubbing against his hard thing as you so called it.

"Sometimes," he taught shakily, even though he knew you already knew this, "men get aroused. And when we do — which is normal and cannot be controlled — this happens."

"What's this?"

Cillian looked up at you desperately. "My, uh, penis."

"I like cock better."

Cillian was astounded. Why is it you were doing this to him? Was this some sort of test? Why were you being so vulgar? If he was in the right state of mind, he would have bent you over and given you a couple of smacks on the ass.

You know what? That's what he was going to do right now.

"Bend over my knees," he ordered weakly. "Now . . ."

"For saying 'cock'?" You grinned. You were grinning.

"For behaving like a slut," he clarified. "Do it . . . Please."

"Not today," you said, quickening your movements. You threw your head back. "Oh, this feels so nice — should've done it sooner. But you know, the law and all that. Didn't want you to get in trouble. Does it feel nice for you as well?"

"No," he lied, muscles tense, but then his resolve broke. "Fuck," he whimpered. "I'm trying to be a good father for you. M'trying so hard. I can't do this to you. I can't — fuck! I'm gonna come."

"Come for me, daddy," you egged on, humping him. "It's okay."

He threw his head back and let out a moan, his hot seed spurting out of him, restrained by his underwear and pants. It wet his clothing, leaving a damp patch, a reminder of what he just did.

You stopped, letting him recover. Almost like a switch had been turned off, you looked nervous, like you usually were. You looked like a good girl again.

"You alright?" you asked.

Cillian let out a sigh, relaxing himself. "Yeah . . . I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have let you." He felt miserable with himself. This would never last into the future. What would people think? He would be erasing himself as your father figure and replacing it as your lover. What would happen when you needed a dad to hug? What would happen if you two got into a big argument? What would happen if you saw him as both — a father and a lover? That would be disastrous. How were you two supposed to navigate a relationship like that?

"Don't be sorry."

You got off of him — a little late for that — and sat down beside him.

"I've just shown you my love. Don't regret it."

If possible, Cillian felt even worse. "I know. I know." He sighed. "I know."

But he didn't. He didn't know what to do at all.

Taglist:

@henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @nela-cutie @madnessandobsession @bernelflo @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x y/n #fanfiction #pinguwrites

[here2bbtstrash]

the shape of your body (explicit)

genre: fluffy slowburn smut

pairing: jimin x reader

summary: the same day you finally manage to speak to your months-long public transit crush, you end up seeing much more of him than you bargained for.

word count: 24k 🙇‍♀️

contains: explicit sexual content~*~ (after a slow burn lmao) - new york city grad school AU, strangers to lovers, reader is an art student, public transit thirsting, jimin is a dancer and a nude model, namgi and vhope as side characters, basically everyone is gay (they're ART STUDENTS in NEW YORK CITY it's called realism 💅), a smidge of member x member side character relationships, jimin is biromantic demisexual 👀, conversations about body image issues/past relationship struggles/demisexuality and libido, soooo much making out, a couple "failed attempts" at sex, accidental voyeurism (but not how you think lmao YOU'LL SEE), showering together non-sexually, and: fingering, clit stim, nipple play, come eating/sharing 🤭 an attempted blowjob, face sitting, & protected sex (multiple rounds 🥵)

A/N: asjdshgkdfjgs i can't believe it's done 😭 there were so many times i thought i would never finish this fic !!! i have too many friends to thank for talking me off of SEVERAL ledges where i was convinced this whole thing was trash and that i should just stick to short porn or perhaps simply never write again. i'm so glad i saw this one through because there are concepts in here that are deeply important and personal to me wehhh 🫠 i sincerely hope y'all enjoy this one!! thank u for enduring mostly radio silence while i was in jimin lockdown, and of course, happy early birthday to mini, the light of my mf life 🥰💜 (oh and LDOMLT ch 8 is coming next so buckle tf up bitches 👀)

an eternity of smooches to @haliiimede for beta reading and just generally being the best fucking person on planet earth ✨ AND TO @goodsoop FOR THE DEMI SENSITIVITY READ VERY SORRY THAT I AM THE WORLD'S LARGEST IDIOT AND FORGOT TO CREDIT..... i love you both 🥺

read on AO3!

~*~

You’ve taken the subway thousands of times since moving to New York.

Morning rides, squeezed nearly to death between commuters in suits blinking back sleep and school-uniformed kids scream-laughing and paper coffee cups gripped tight by winter-numb fingers.

Long trips with your sketchbook on your lap, riding the line all the way to Pelham Bay Park and back, to surface above ground out where there’s a little more space to breathe, until the setting sun floods orange glow between the buildings just before you descend again.

Late nights coming home, Namjoon’s head thudding back against the train window behind him as he dozes off, one arm thrown around your shoulder to ward off any drunk creeps, his free hand interlaced with Yoongi’s on his other side.

It’s always been the three of you, first in friendship, and now that the two of them have figured out they’re something more, you don’t mind it. But when it’s late and you’ve had enough drinks to feel warm all the way through, to melt something open inside of you, and you glance over to see a loving flicker of eyelashes exchanged as Namjoon leans down and presses a kiss to Yoongi’s temple, you can’t help it.

There’s a little bit of an ache there, right behind your ribs. Sometimes.

But mostly, when it comes to the train, you take the 6 to school. You go through the motions this morning the same as you always do: headphones around your neck, bag slung over your shoulder, immediately dropping into the first empty seat you see as the train doors shudder closed and the car starts to move. Six stops down, 51st street to Astor Place, five days a week, you know it like a heartbeat.

You just wish you knew him, too.

Subway Boy, as Yoongi affectionately labeled him the time you got two pitchers of margaritas deep and made the mistake of confessing to your roommates about your crush— if it can even be called that. Can you truly have a crush on someone you know nothing about, not even their name?

Well, you know a few things.

He must live further north than you, because on the days you see him, he’s already on the train when you board at 51st.

He must like music, because he always has a set of fancy bluetooth earbuds in.

You’re pretty sure he’s an athlete of some sort, because he’s usually carrying a gym bag—and because during this summer’s heat wave, the one and only time you’ve seen him wear shorts, you nearly fainted at the thick, defined muscles of his thighs.

He has an affinity for jewelry, delicate silver always glinting through the multiple piercings in his ears. At odds with this, he seems to prefer to dress comfortably, and you’ve seen him in enough branded school t-shirts and sweats to figure he must also be an NYU student, though you can’t say for sure if he’s undergrad or graduate.

You deeply hope you’re not crushing on someone who still needs a fake ID to drink, but there’s no way to be certain.

Most importantly, you know that he is absolutely stunning. Elegantly handsome, with expressive deep brown eyes, skin like glass, and round cheeks and full lips that flush frozen pink on particularly frigid New York days. His hair has changed colors a few times over the months that have passed since you first took notice of him, but it’s currently a honey blonde, and long enough that he often reaches up to card a hand through it. He does it now, pushing loose strands back to expose his forehead as he frowns down at his phone.

On days where you share the same car, you notice very little else that happens on the ride, thoroughly entranced in Subway Boy’s beauty and his mystery. The train could probably catch fire and you’d miss it entirely.

Today happens to be one of those days, and excitement glitters in your bloodstream as you realize he’s seated across from you. The rush of seeing him always feels like its own reward, some kind of cosmic sign that the day is going to be a good one.

And then the train stops moving.

There’s an audible reaction from a few people in the car, and you glance up a moment later when a voice buzzes over the intercom. You’re able to make out “attention passengers” and very little after that, just the basics about some sort of unforeseen interruption of service and that the train should resume moving again soon.

You sigh, knowing very well that the MTA’s definition of ‘soon’ does not often align with typical human expectations. Figuring you’ve got some time to kill, you reach into your bag to retrieve your sketchbook and the first pencil you can dig out of the bottom.

“What did they say?” A voice, quiet and deep, surprises you before you can even flip to your in-progress page.

You glance up to find Subway Boy staring at you, forearms braced on his knees as he leans forward into the gap between his seat and yours. He’s got one bluetooth earbud pinched between his fingertips and a confused look on his face, having clearly missed the announcement.

Heat floods your face at the feeling of his eyes fixed on you, and it takes you a second to form a response. “Uh— I didn’t get most of it. Something about unforeseen interruption. And that we’ll be moving again soon.”

A muscle works in his jaw as he rolls his eyes. “Typical.”

“I don’t think they know what ‘soon’ means,” you murmur, mostly to yourself as you tear your gaze away from Subway Boy and return to the sketchbook in your lap, rifling through to find your latest half-finished drawing. When you hear him huff a laugh, you have to bite down on the hopeful smile that threatens to shine across your face.

“Definitely not.”

You force yourself to keep your eyes on the page, assuming Subway Boy must go back to his music when he falls silent after his last comment.

With featherlight flicks of your pencil, you start to add a little depth to the quick study you were working on last night, Yoongi’s half-peeled tangerine that he left abandoned on the coffee table when he stepped out onto the fire escape for a smoke.

Subway Boy’s voice catches you off guard a second time. “Are you drawing?”

You bite down on your lip again, a nervous habit, and you nod as you tilt the page so he can see from across the car.

“Wow.” You wonder if you’re imagining the way his voice seems to soften a little. “You’re really good. Are you an artist?”

You can’t help it— your gaze flits up to meet his again. It’s nearly overwhelming to lock eyes with your Subway Boy and hear him compliment you, like something out of a wild daydream. “I guess so,” you remark, the corner of your mouth tugging up into a small smile as you say it. “I’ve certainly paid NYU enough money in my attempts to become one.”

“Know the feeling,” he scoffs, but his eyes smile back, pulled into crescent moons.

“What did you pay them for?”

“Currently, a dual MFA/MA in dance and… teaching dance. Really went all-in on the dancer thing.”

“Oh.” Your eyes widen automatically. You’ve wondered— and yes, occasionally drunkenly speculated with your roommates— what Subway Boy’s line of work might be, but you have no idea why dancer never occurred to you. Because now all the pieces suddenly fall together in front of you: the toned muscles that flex beneath the sleeves of his t-shirt, the natural grace he exudes, not to mention his perfect posture.

Of course he’s a dancer. It makes perfect sense.

It occurs to you, a beat too late, that a wide-eyed ‘oh’ is not the most normal response to a truly innocuous answer to a question asked of a random stranger.

But the smile in his eyes doesn’t falter. “I feel like I see you on this train a lot.”

Your stomach flutters like butterfly wings, and you have to look away, back down to the safety of your sketchbook. “Really?”

There’s an extra pause before he speaks again. “Man, sorry. Think I misread that. Now I feel creepy. I promise I’ve only noticed you a normal amount.” Your eyes snap back up to find him wincing slightly, one hand rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, no, I’m— it’s not—” you stammer, trying to recover. “I, uh— me too, I have too. Noticed you. A normal amount. I… I don’t know why I just pretended like I didn’t.”

Subway Boy leans forward, head dropping down with a genuine laugh that shakes his shoulders, and you can’t help but laugh too, out of sheer embarrassment. He’s beaming when he rights himself again, and it sends a thrill buzzing through you, all the way down to your fingertips still clutched tight to your pencil.

“That makes me feel better,” he admits. “At least we’re both creepy.”

As if the universe itself is intervening to save you from any further humiliation, the train shudders back to life and begins to move again. The sigh you breathe is a strange mixture of relief and disappointment.

“That’s definitely a new record,” you say shyly as you move to shove your things back in your bag. “Maybe the MTA actually looked up what ‘soon’ means.”

His focus is tracked over your shoulder when you look up again, and his eyes dance left to right to chase the patterns in the subway tile as you pull into the next station.

“Guess it’s a miracle,” he says softly, not making eye contact.

“Must be,” you murmur back, letting your gaze drop to the floor, unable to hide your smile now.

He doesn’t say anything else, and neither do you, but the warm flush stays in your face for the rest of the ride. When the train pulls into the Astor Place station, you and Subway Boy get to your feet simultaneously, so quickly that your bags knock together as you pull them over your shoulders.

“Sorry,” you say in unison, immediately sharing an exhaled laugh at the synchronicity of the moment.

The doors slide open and he gestures for you to go first before following after. It’s a surprise— he’s never gotten off at Astor before, and when he doesn’t take the option of heading in another direction but instead falls into lockstep next to you, you seize the opportunity.

“Astor Place today, huh?” You hope the observation still falls into the category of ‘noticing a normal amount’.

“Yeah, first day of a new gig. What about you? Class?”

You nod. “Pretty standard stuff. But we start a new unit today, so that’s fun.”

“You in grad school too?”

“Yup, MFA in studio art.” You can’t help but tease, just a little. “Only one master’s degree for me, I’m such a slacker.”

His eyes squint again as he smiles. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re not, like, eighteen.”

“I thought that too!” You keep talking before you can stop yourself. “I mean, when I was… noticing. I distinctly remember thinking, like, please let me not be thirsting over a straight-up child right now.”

“Ahh...” Subway Boy trails off, and you can see a faint pink starting to blossom in the apples of his cheeks. “You were thirsting?”

You can’t help but scrunch your nose up slightly, resisting the urge to full-body cringe at your own stupid mouth. “We are now officially both creepy.”

He fidgets a little with the strap of the dance bag slung over his shoulder. “Hopefully I’m living up to the hype.”

You’re grateful to reach the art building before you can dig your grave any deeper. You nod your head in the direction of the glass doors as you slow to a stop, and he does, too. “This is me.”

“It’s actually me, too,” he remarks, glancing up at the building as if to double-check. “But I have a little bit, so I’m gonna grab a coffee I think. But it was nice to finally talk to you. Not that— sorry, that was weird. Take out the finally. It was good to talk. Meet a fellow starving artist and all.”

You worry your bottom lip between your teeth for a moment, until you finally work up the courage to ask the question. “Do you have a name?”

“Oh!” His eyes widen, more heat-blush coloring his face. “Yeah. Park Jimin. Probably could’ve led with that.”

You give him your name, and his voice is like music when he repeats it back.

“Well, good luck in class,” Jimin says with a nod. “And hopefully I’ll see you around sometime.” A smile toys at the corner of his mouth, and then he pauses as his words seem to catch up to him. “Well, I mean. I guess I know I will. On the— train— yeah, I’m gonna go before I say any more stupid things.”

“Bye Jimin,” you giggle, and he gives a shy departing wave before he spins on his heel. As he walks away, you can’t help but notice the way he drops his gaze and shakes his head, like he’s thoroughly embarrassed by his social performance.

And just like that, Subway Boy has a name— one that loops in your head as you float to class, barely feeling your feet touch the floor. Park Jimin. It’s sweet like him, warm sunshine in your veins as you shoulder open the door to the studio, grab a seat, and start to get set up.

A voice nearly makes you jump out of your skin as Kim Taehyung leans in, having occupied the seat next to you while you were off in la-la land. “Know what the new unit is?” You start to shake your head, then realize it was a rhetorical question when he waggles his eyebrows and continues. “Life drawing. Ready for some naked people?”

You roll your eyes and grab at the strings of his gray beanie, pulling it down over his fluffy hair and eyes in one swift tug. “Bro, we are literally in grad school. Stop acting like a virgin.”

“Like you weren’t thinking it too,” he grumbles to himself as he shoves the hat back up his forehead.

You shoot him a look as your professor signals the class to settle and launches in. It’s the same routine as each unit you’ve rotated through in your graduate studio, so you only half-listen, mostly distracted by Taehyung tearing open the paper wrapper of a red heart-shaped lollipop and popping it into his mouth. His latest oral fixation in his millionth attempt to quit vaping.

You lean down to dig into your bag, trying to ignore the sound of hard candy clacking against teeth as you fish out both pencils and charcoal to give yourself options. You pull a couple of each out of their cases, glancing up in an attempt to refocus on the professor, who is still talking.

It takes a second for your brain to process the image in front of you. His shy smile has been replaced with a serious, professional expression, but there’s no questioning the familiar face, the posture, the silver jewelry, the way he reaches up to run a hand through his hair. Subway Boy Park Jimin is standing in the center of the room, wearing a short black satin dressing gown.

Your jaw goes slack. It feels like it happens in slow motion as you watch Jimin’s strong hands move down to undo the sash at his waist before he shrugs off the flimsy fabric and lets it fall to the floor. And then he’s not wearing anything at all.

You lose your grip entirely on your handful of pencils, and they hit the studio floor with a clatter that certainly feels deafening, each one choosing to roll off in a different direction.

Taehyung glances over at you, brow slightly creased. The lollipop tucked in his cheek impedes his speech slightly, but not enough that you can’t understand him. “Now who’s the virgin?”

You crouch down, praying that maybe you can gather your things unnoticed, but it already feels like every pair of eyes in the room is burning a hole in your back. To his credit, Taehyung at least helps a little, extending a sandaled foot to kick any pencils he can reach over towards you. You scramble around the room to chase after the rest, and you can’t bear to look up and see if Jimin is watching you or not. You’re not sure which would be worse.

Fighting the urge to army crawl out of the room, you grip both hands tightly around your materials as you return to your seat, then tuck everything into the tray of the easel in front of you. You’re a professional, you tell yourself. It’s not like it’s your first time drawing someone nude.

It’s just your first time doing it when you happen to have a crush on them.

But it’s fine. You let out an exhale to ground yourself, then pick up a pencil. It’s just a body.

You vaguely recall hearing your professor explain that you’d be moving through ten quick-sketch poses to begin with, each held for only a few minutes, before switching to a few longer sessions for the rest of class. As you were too busy chasing your pencils around the room, you’ve missed the first pose entirely, and you have to work quickly to get a very rough outline of the second before Jimin moves again at the professor’s instruction.

He switches so fluidly from one pose to the next, and you have so little time, it’s enough to get you out of your head just trying to keep up. You find yourself falling comfortably into a flow state, focused on little more than lines and shapes in front of you and the act of reproducing them on your page. It’s an exercise you know well, and the repetition of it soothes you.

The studio is quiet, save for the scratching of pencils on paper and the soft classical music your professor has switched on.

By the time you finish sketching the tenth pose, it feels like you can breathe a little easier, and your professor offers Jimin a quick break just as you lean back to admire your work. You do your best to quickly duck behind your easel as he stretches, then reaches for a bottle of water set on a nearby table.

Taehyung removes his sheet of sketches and sets it aside before leaning in, pressing his face against his easel to match yours. “He’s cute. Bet he gets like, infinite ass-pussy. Just the absolute most.”

“Shut up, Tae!” You jerk your foot out to kick the leg of his chair, and a boxy grin stretches over his face as he giggles. You stare daggers back. “You’re too damn horny today. Like you didn’t just get your ass eaten in the supply closet last week.” The rumor had spread through your cohort practically overnight— probably started by Taehyung himself.

The menace in question shoots you an over-exaggerated wink. “And I’d do it again, too.”

You roll your eyes. “Nasty.”

The professor claps to get everyone’s attention again, and you peer around your easel to watch as Jimin resumes his place at the center of the room. You settle in for the first of a few longer, more detailed sketches, trying desperately to keep your cool about it. But Jimin is unquestionably gorgeous.

He turns to the side for the first pose, arms wrapped around his muscular torso and eyes downcast, fingertips and thumb resting over his neck and chin as if to cradle his own face in his hand. After a long stretch of time where you manage to get most of a sketch done, the professor cues him to move into a second pose, and he faces the back wall, reaching up to drape his arms over each other, crossed wrists resting delicately on the crown of his head.

You could easily see him as a statue carved out of marble, and you try to ignore the flutter of your heartbeat as you attempt to translate his beauty onto your page each time. You have to hold in several sighs as you work on outlining the strong, toned muscles of his back and thighs— not to mention his perky ass. You can’t help but wonder if the rest of the class is struggling silently, too.

You’re beginning to think you might survive after all when the professor asks Jimin to move again and he does, shaking his body out slightly before reaching to grab a provided stool and shift it to the center of the room. He takes a seat, abdominals flexing as he leans back on his hands and unabashedly lets his legs fall open.

Fuck. You nearly snap your pencil in half.

You try desperately to keep it together as you start your third sketch with unsteady hands. The minutes tick by, and you aren’t aware of Taehyung’s eyes on your paper until you hear his stupid whisper again. “Why aren’t you drawing his dick?”

He’s not wrong. There is a noticeable blank spot at the center of your page. “I’m getting there,” you huff. “Worry about your own sketch, Tae.”

“Girl, you are literally doing detail shading on his legs and he doesn’t even have a penis. What is he, a Ken doll?”

You grit your teeth and refuse to dignify Taehyung with a response. Fine. You can do this, you tell yourself. Don’t think. Just look and draw. It’s not a big deal.

With a hard swallow, you trace your eyes down his body, and… well, you don’t know what you were expecting. It’s just a soft penis resting limp between his legs, framed by an extremely regular pair of balls. Nothing scary, though you can’t quite will the heat back out of your face, can’t manage to silence the recurring thought that makes your stomach drop— it’s cute.

You resist the urge to smack your head against your easel as you finally fill in your sketch’s dick.

You somehow manage to survive the rest of class, but relief still floods your veins when your professor signals for everyone to wrap up what they’re doing for the day. Jimin starts to come alive again from the fixed pose, tilting his head to one side until something cracks audibly in his neck. You tear your gaze away for fear that his eyes might find yours, and shove everything into your bag as quickly as you can, not even caring what ends up where.

“Where’s the fire?” Taehyung questions beside you, but you ignore him.

You zip your bag up and sling it over your shoulder, then make a beeline for the exit, keeping your eyes fixed firmly on the floor. It’s only once the studio door swings shut behind you that you feel like you can breathe again, and you have to keep yourself from outright sprinting to your next class.

~*~

The rest of the day rushes by in an overwhelming blur, your focus entirely shot by the events of the morning. You collapse into a seat on your train home, hugging your bag to your chest, thankful for the first time in your life to not be sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.

When you turn your keys in the lock and stumble in the front door of the apartment, the divine smell of what could only be Yoongi’s cooking immediately hits you full-force. You find him in the kitchen with a towel thrown over his shoulder, searing a large steak in a cast iron pan for what must be a planned date night with Namjoon.

You wrap your arms around his tiny waist from behind as you approach. He responds with his usual greeting: a soft grunt of mild discomfort.

“Can I ask you a question?” you ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

“You just did,” Yoongi notes.

You decide to let his sass go, since you really do need help. “Two more?” Yoongi hums, somewhat affirmative, and you continue. “I know you work like 47 jobs and never get any time off—“

“Some of us have to pay rent without the luxury of stipends or rich parents, yes—“

“But is there any way I could… maybe possibly encroach upon your date night just this once? It’s an emergency. I need advice.”

Yoongi sighs, and you shift to peek over his shoulder, arms still wrapped around him as you watch the way he tilts the pan to one side, collecting butter on a spoon to baste over the steak as it cooks. You squish your cheek into his bicep.

“Lucky for you,” he begins, his tone relenting, “Namjoonie just called. They’ve got him working late to prep for the exhibition next month. So date night was canceled anyway.”

“Aw, Yoongiiiii.” You squeeze him tight enough that he makes another disgruntled noise, and you finally release your grip. “I’ll be your girlfriend tonight.”

He rolls his eyes, but willingly plays along. “Then get the wine, darling?”

You fall into a typical routine: Yoongi pulls a tray of roasted vegetables out of the oven as he lets the steak rest, while you grab a bottle of red at his instruction and fight with the corkscrew in an attempt to get it open. Yoongi watches you, slow-blinking, unamused.

“You wouldn’t last an hour in the restaurant industry.”

“Either help me, or shut up,” you hiss through clenched teeth.

When you finally get settled at your tiny kitchen table, Yoongi nods as if to prompt you while he fills each wine glass with a heavy pour. “Let’s hear it.”

You take a deep breath before launching in and recounting the events of your day, trying not to choke as you simultaneously stuff your face with food. Yoongi eats and listens quietly, no discernible reaction on his face save the occasional lift of his eyebrows. He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest as you finish detailing the way you ran out of the studio the minute class ended.

“Alright. So you saw Subway Boy naked, big deal. Do you know how many dicks I’ve seen?”

You groan. “Spare me the details, please.”

“But this is what you wanted, right?” You shrug, and he rolls his eyes. “Don’t play coy now. You’ve been lusting after this kid for months like a weirdo. So why are you stressed?”

“Because!” you huff, frustrated. “It’s— it’s out of order. It’s not like he chose to get naked in front of me specifically, he obviously just thought it was going to be a roomful of strangers. And it seemed like maybe we could be friends or something, but now I don’t know if I should keep pursuing that or just leave him alone. I want to be respectful, but I don’t want him to think I took one look at his penis and decided I didn’t like him anymore, but then it’s like, how do I hold a conversation when he and I both know I have seen his penis, not only seen but studied it, drawn it, and will continue to, weekly, in detail, from multiple angles—“

“You are absolutely overthinking this,” Yoongi laughs into his glass of wine, downing the rest before he continues. “Just get on the fucking train and say hi like a normal, well-adjusted human. This is my advice to you.”

You sigh as you shove a roasted potato in your mouth. “At least you’re a good cook.”

“I’m a great cook,” Yoongi corrects you as he gets to his feet. “Now help me with these dishes.”

~*~

Yoongi’s advice continues to echo in your brain as you lapse back into something like normalcy for the rest of the week.

When the day of your studio class rolls around again, you find yourself hustling not to miss the train, having hit snooze on your alarm a few too many times that morning. You fly down the subway steps just as the 6 is pulling into the station, and you try to ignore the way your pulse is already quickening, telling yourself it’s just from rushing and nothing else.

Pulling the strap of your bag up on your shoulder, you make it to the platform just as the train doors slide open, and your heart instantly leaps into your throat. There he is, leaning against a pole, overwhelmingly beautiful as ever. Park Jimin.

He’s scrolling through something on his phone and hasn’t yet looked up to notice you, and you find yourself frozen in place, jostled angrily by commuters exiting and boarding the train on either side of you.

Panic floods your veins. There’s no time to talk yourself off the ledge, no time to remember Yoongi’s words of wisdom, no time to do anything but make a snap decision. So you do the only thing that feels right: you turn around and sprint back up the stairs and out of the subway station.

The sidewalk is equally bustling, and you try to dodge people while you think through what to do despite the way your head is spinning. You were already going to be cutting it close for time today, and you don’t exactly have the disposable income for a taxi or an Uber. As you try to settle your racing thoughts, your eyes alight on a rack of Citibikes.

Fuck it. You don’t have a better option. Securing your bag on your back, you quickly scan the code to unlock the bike, then shove your phone in your pocket and swing your leg over the seat.

You’ve never biked in Manhattan traffic before, but it can’t be that difficult, you tell yourself. Definitely easier than sharing a subway car with Park Jimin.

Thankfully the street you’re on has a defined bike path, and you do your best to follow the flow of traffic, squeezing your hand brakes to slow to a stop when you hit a red light. It’s been years since you’ve ridden a bike that wasn’t stationary, but it comes back to you relatively easily, like— well, riding a bike.

When you hit a long stretch of green lights, you do your best to pick up speed, trying to make up for lost time. An approaching red light threatens to slow you down again, and you breathe a sigh of relief as it flips to green at the last possible second.

Just as your front tire rolls into the intersection, a deafening car horn nearly gives you a heart attack. You instinctively slam your grip tight around your brakes, and your bike screeches to a halt so fast you’re almost flung over the handlebars. A taxi just barely veers around you as it plows down the intersecting avenue, and you gasp for air, adrenaline coursing through your system.

Holy shit.

You drop one foot to the ground for leverage as you try to get your pulse back under control— you’re pretty sure you just saw your life flash before your eyes. Reality feels a million miles away, but you’re vaguely aware of someone shouting after the car as it speeds down the street.

“Fucking asshole!”

It takes a few seconds for you to realize that it’s a familiar voice, and when you do, you whip around as best you can with a bike between your legs.

“Yoongi?!”

“Oh my god,” Yoongi groans, knuckles blanching as he presses down on his own brakes. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You squint, taking in the helmet strapped over his wavy dark hair and the insulated bag tucked into the basket on the front of his bike. “Since when do you deliver food?”

He grimaces, speaking up to be heard over the noise of traffic. “I just do it to make extra money when my hours suck.”

“What about the coffee shop?”

He shakes his head. “They only have me opening Mondays and Wednesdays right now.”

“What about the bar?”

“That’s just weekends, reliably. Sometimes extra evenings, but only if someone calls out.”

“What about the—”

“Christ, woman!” Yoongi cuts you off with a growl. “The food’s gonna get cold if I have to sit here and run through my entire résumé with you! Are you alright? Why aren’t you taking the subway?”

“Because!” you snap back. “There is a man on that train whose dick I’ve seen and I… I don’t know how to handle it! Okay?!” Though you don’t intend to raise your voice, it comes out loud enough that a group of high school kids on their phones exchange stifled giggles as they fast-walk around you.

“Well you need to be fucking careful,” Yoongi chides. “Biking in the city is not for the faint of heart. And if I’m not allowed to give in to my suicidal ideation, you’re not allowed to crack your head open on the pavement all because you’re trying to avoid a penis.”

“Fine,” you spit back through gritted teeth. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to get to class.” You push off the asphalt, legs still shaking a little with excess nerves as you re-find your balance and make your way cautiously through the intersection.

The rush of wind in your ears isn’t quite loud enough to drown out Yoongi calling after you as you bike away. “It’s only weird if you make it weird!”

When you somehow make it to Astor Place in one piece, you dock your bike and quickly sprint to the building, well aware that you’re already late. It’s only once you push the studio door open that you realize how truly frazzled and out of breath you are, and though you keep your gaze fixed on the floor, you can feel every pair of eyes in the room on you. You hold a hand up in an apologetic wave and hurry to find your seat.

Trying to collect yourself, you begin to unpack your materials as quietly as possible so as not to disturb the class. You nearly jump out of your skin when you hear Kim Taehyung’s voice beside you.

“You’re sweaty. Why are you so sweaty?”

He’s got an eyebrow cocked when you look over, and you give him the most powerful death glare you can muster, enough that it must actually scare him. “Shutting up now,” Taehyung murmurs, voice shaking slightly as he returns to his own sketches, and you huff an exhale as you attempt to catch up to the rest of the group.

Class passes surprisingly quickly once you manage to get your breath back, much in the same way it did the week prior: you do your best to compartmentalize the body in front of you from the human person you have a giant, embarrassing crush on. It goes decently well in the moments where Jimin is frozen in a fixed pose, just lines and curves and light and shadow for you to emulate. During the breaks when he comes alive again, you hide out behind your easel, trying to ignore Taehyung’s inane bullshit and wishing you could disappear entirely.

The second your professor dismisses everyone for the day, you stuff your things back into your bag, hoping to once again speed-walk out of the room.

But despite your better judgment, you can’t help yourself this time. As you get to your feet, you glance up to watch Jimin pull his dressing gown back on, only to realize his eyes are already on you.

You’re distinctly aware of how much of a mess you must look from biking over, and the fact that you almost assuredly smudged charcoal on your face when you reached up absentmindedly to scratch an itch mid-sketch.

Jimin’s plush lips turn up in the smallest of smiles, and the bottom drops out of your stomach.

With a hard swallow, you avert your gaze from his, sling your bag over your shoulder, and quickly make your escape through the studio door. You can feel your pulse pounding in your throat even after he’s out of your sight, and your hands shake like a leaf all the way to your next class.

~*~

That night, sleep evades you until the early hours of the morning, and it feels like you’ve only just begun to doze off when the harsh noise of your alarm pulls you up from dreaming. You roll over in bed and glare accusingly at your phone, then shut it off, promptly letting the waves drag you under once more, seminar be damned.

It’s nearly noon when you finally make it out of bed and stumble into the living room in your sweats. Namjoon is curled up in his reading chair, a feat for someone of his size, surrounded as always by his massive stack of ever-changing ‘to read’ books. He glances up from the one that’s open on his lap, clearly surprised to see you.

“No class?” Namjoon’s voice is rough-edged, like he’s only just woken up himself.

“Skipped,” you grunt. His eyes track you as you cross the room and collapse face-first onto the couch.

“Is this about the penis?”

The cushion muffles your groan. “Not you too.”

You hear the distinct fluttering sound of Namjoon closing his book and shifting in his seat to give you his undivided attention. “Seems like you want to talk about it.”

You turn your head to the side to take in your roommate. “Maybe. Are you gonna give me the same stupid advice your boyfriend did?”

He smiles softly, one dimple flexing at the corner of his mouth. “I can try to be gentler.”

You huff as you flip onto your side, pressing your palms together and slipping them under your cheek. “Sounds like you’ve got the details already, so please. Enlighten me. Tell me how I’m supposed to handle seeing this guy naked once a week in the name of art.”

“Didn’t William Blake say ‘Art can never exist without naked beauty displayed’?” Namjoon poses it like a serious question, brow creased as if in contemplation, and you roll your eyes.

“I don’t know, Joon, did he? I said enlighten me, not write me a thesis.” You reach up to grab a couch pillow and fling it in his direction, missing by several inches. “Did Blake have anything in there on dealing with a naked crush and trying not to make it weird as fuck?”

“Well, does he seem weirded out by it?” Namjoon counters, patient as ever.

“I don’t know.” You shrug unsurely as you play back your last interaction with Jimin. “He smiled at me yesterday, at the end of class.”

Namjoon steeples his fingers together, leaning forward slightly in his chair, interest clearly piqued. “Okay, and what did you do?”

You squeeze your eyes shut. “I… threw all my shit in my bag and ran out of the room.” When you crack an eye open again, you can see Namjoon trying and failing to keep the smug smile off his face, his dimples giving him away.

“Maybe you could try smiling back next time?” he gently suggests.

You sigh, because you know he’s right. “You make it sound so easy. What’s next? You’re going to tell me to talk to him?”

He laughs a little. “I’d quote another poet, but I fear you might launch more projectiles at me.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Let’s hear it, nerd.”

Namjoon clears his throat for dramatic effect before launching into a recitation. “‘It’s cool, not tryna put a rush on you / I had to let you know, that I got a crush on you.’”

There’s a wide grin on his face as you sit all the way up. “Did you just quote Biggie Smalls at me?”

“Hey, I appreciate all forms of poetry.”

You feign annoyance, but you can’t quite hide the smile beneath it, and you get to your feet as Namjoon continues to mumble a verse of Crush on You under his breath. “Whatever. I need to do laundry.”

“Oh—” Namjoon pauses to interrupt himself. “Lucky’s closed, by the way.”

Already halfway out of the living room, you whip around again at the mention of the laundromat you’ve been exclusive with for the last few years. “What?”

He nods solemnly. “Me and Yoongi found out the hard way last week. They’re putting in an Equinox.”

Your face twists in disgust. “A stupid bougie gym?! You’ve got to be kidding me. Where am I supposed to wash my fucking clothes?”

“We found a place a few blocks up. Quick Clean, or something like that.” Namjoon shifts to dig his phone out of his pocket. “I’ll send you the address. It’s not bad, just a little more expensive.”

“This is such bullshit,” you groan as you stomp back into your bedroom, the day already off to a terrible start.

In a gentrification-induced rage, you angrily shove the contents of your overflowing laundry hamper into the giant yellow IKEA bag hung up in your closet, just barely managing to fit it all. Glancing at the mirror on the back of the door, you briefly consider changing out of your sweats, or at the very least doing something with your hair, but you shrug it off— it’s not like you’re trying to impress anyone at the damn laundromat.

You grab your headphones off your desk and sling them around your neck, double-check that your sketchbook is still tucked into your bag, then lug everything out to the front hallway. You pull your slides off the shoe rack and slip your socked feet into them.

“Bye, nerd!” you call over your shoulder to Namjoon before the front door slams shut behind you.

By the time you make it to the weird new laundromat, you’re sweaty and pissed off. You knew the walk to Lucky’s by heart, but you had to do this one while looking down at your phone GPS and trying not to get hit by a car. Not an easy feat while carrying every article of clothing you own over one shoulder.

You miss the way the nice old man who owned Lucky’s would greet you warmly and sneak you a cup of coffee from his pot in the back, the way his cat would roll over on the front counter for belly rubs, the way there was always a deeply entertaining telenovela playing on the ancient tiny TV.

The stupid Quick Clean has none of these things, just a shitty pile of magazines in the seating area and weirdly sticky floors. You slam into the front door a little harder than is necessary to push it open, the bell tinkling violently overhead as you enter. The only compliment you can give the place is that it’s relatively dead, save for a couple people on their phones or half-asleep in chairs as they wait on their stuff, and two guys in the corner loading armfuls of wet clothes into a pair of dryers.

You grab a machine a respectful distance away from them and swing the door open when a laugh that’s nearly musical gives you pause. Unable to shake a sense of familiarity, you glance over at your neighbors again, just in time to see one of them reach up to run a hand through his honey blonde hair.

Your IKEA bag hits the sticky floor with an audible thud as panic kickstarts your heart.

This isn’t fucking happening. Of all the laundromats in New York City, you did not just manage to stumble into the one currently being used by Park Jimin.

But even before you can catch a glimpse of his profile, you’re already certain it can’t be anyone else. You’ve spent too much time familiarizing yourself with the slope of his neck, the definition of his forearms, his dainty hands. There’s no mistaking them, adorned today with several silver rings that catch the dim fluorescent light as he grabs more of his clothes from the washer.

The desperate need to turn around and run rises up in your chest, just as before, but this time you steel yourself. You can’t keep running away forever— particularly not when you pulled on your last clean pair of underwear this morning.

A rush of heat floods your face at the thought of the many pairs of underwear in your bag that will soon be sent spinning around this washing machine, where Jimin could easily see, but then it occurs to you that you have seen his penis. Maybe the trade-off will put you on slightly more equal footing.

But you really don’t need to be thinking about Park Jimin’s penis in this laundromat right now.

Shaking your head slightly to try and banish the thought, you set about your laundry routine, trying not to drop any unmentionables on the floor when you dump the contents of your tote into the washer. You dig quarters out of your bag and slot them into the machine, then press the button to start the cycle.

With a final exhale to steady yourself, you turn to look over your shoulder again, only to find Jimin leaning up against the empty dryer next to his, unabashedly watching you with a small smile on his face.

It occurs to you now that you couldn’t have put less effort into your appearance if you tried, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of every random stain on your sweatpants and your extremely fashionable socks and slides combination. Jimin’s just in a white t-shirt and a pair of distressed jeans today, but literally everything looks fresh off the runway on him. You suppress the urge to walk out the door and go lay down in traffic, and instead take Namjoon’s advice: you smile back and even lift your hand in a shy wave.

You drop into an empty chair across from your machine and watch as Jimin starts to cross the room to join you, his eyes never leaving yours. Before he can make it, you suddenly become aware of someone else sliding into the seat beside you.

“You didn’t tell me she was cute, Jimin-ah!”

Eyes wide, you turn to see Jimin’s friend sprawled out next to you, one arm draped lazily over the back of your chair. His wavy dark hair peeks out from under a lime green beanie, and he’s swimming in an oversized long sleeve tucked into baggy pants, cinched tight at the waist with a Gucci belt.

“Jung Hoseok,” he gives you a nod. “Friends call me Hobi. You can call me whatever you like.” The way his wide smile pulls his mouth heart-shaped makes you giggle a little, slightly dazed by whatever the fuck is happening right now.

You hear Jimin sigh as he takes the open seat on your other side. “Please ignore Hoseok’s tendency to come on way too strong. If it makes you feel any better, he’s as gay as they come.”

Hoseok flicks his wrist just so. “Guilty as charged.”

“Oh, it’s okay,” you say with a shrug, your gaze flitting from Jimin to Hoseok and back again. “I have two gay roommates, so.”

Hoseok hums, clearly interested. “Gay together or gay separately?”

“Gay together.”

He narrows his eyes. “Open to a third?”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected question. “Uh, I’d have to ask.”

He looks like he’s going to say more, but Jimin interjects. “Hoseok— can we get a minute?”

Hoseok’s lips pull together, fish-like, and he nods as he gets to his feet. “Say no more. I’ll just, uh…” He fumbles, looking around for something to do, then crosses the room to take the open seat next to the sad pile of magazines. “…do a little light reading.” He picks up one at the top of the stack, holding it up for you both to witness. “Oh look, the queen died!”

You bite down on your bottom lip to suppress another laugh, but Jimin’s face is surprisingly serious when you look back at him. “I just want to say one thing,” he murmurs, voice low, “and then I’ll leave you alone.”

Nerves settle in the pit of your stomach like a heavy weight. “Jimin,” you start, and when he opens his mouth to keep talking, you blurt out the first thing you can think of.

“I’m sorry,” you say in unison, and there’s a beat where you both blink, equally taken aback by the other’s apology. It’s quiet apart from the rumble of the laundry machines and the distinct sound of Hoseok smacking the magazine over his mouth, clearly more invested in your plot line.

You break the silence first. “Wait, why are you sorry?”

Jimin’s eyes drop down to the floor, one black boot toeing nervously at the tile. “I figured you were upset with me because I didn’t warn you.”

Your eyes widen in surprise when you play your initial conversation back. “Oh my god— when I said graduate studio art, you… you knew.”

He nods, somewhat remorseful. “I was kind of hoping that maybe it would be a different class, but. Yeah. I figured. I’m really sorry, I should’ve—”

“No, no,” you interrupt. “I get it. I’m not mad, obviously I didn’t even put it together until right now.” You pause for a second and can’t help but smile a little. “And, I mean, how do you just casually work that into your first conversation with someone? ‘Great talking to you, ready to see my dick in five minutes?’”

Jimin’s head tips back when he laughs, his cheeks flushing a faint shade of pink. “Right.”

You can feel your own face grow hot as you realize what you’ve just said. “God, sorry, I didn’t mean to— clearly I don’t know how to handle this. That’s why I wanted to apologize, for avoiding you and being weird.” You twist your hands uncomfortably in your lap. “I’ve just never been in this situation before, and I wasn’t sure if you’d still want to talk given… the…” Every cell in your body screams at you not to say the word ‘dick’ again. “Yeah. I thought it might be easier to keep my distance. Keep it separate.”

Jimin’s eyes drift back up to find yours, and his casual beauty is so stunning, it’s enough to knock the air out of your lungs. He shrugs softly. “I mean, maybe it would be. But I don’t want to.”

“Great,” you manage a laugh, still breathless. “Because I nearly died on a Citibike the day I didn’t take the subway.”

He laughs, too. “Not gonna lie, I missed seeing you on the train.” You’re not expecting it when he extends a hand out. “Friends?”

You realize belatedly that he’s offering a handshake, and you gently take his hand in yours. His skin is soft and warm, a contrast to the cool metal of his rings that press into your palm as he squeezes.

“Friends,” you echo with a smile, squeezing back.

There’s a sudden thump and a cackle as Hoseok falls out of his chair with a peal of laughter. “You are so fucking weird, Jimin-ah!” he gasps from his spot on the floor. “Who shakes hands?!”

The two of them keep you more than entertained until the buzzers on their dryers sound a second apart from each other. You learn that Hoseok and Jimin are roommates, that they met as dance majors in their undergrad program, and that Hoseok now works as an adjunct instructor and freelance choreographer.

“Because some of us decided we wanted to actually make money instead of digging ourselves further into debt,” he explains with a sly grin and smack delivered to the back of Jimin’s head.

You watch as they meticulously fold, Hoseok regularly leaning over to redo Jimin’s work and chide him about wrinkles, and then they stack the clean laundry back into their bags and head for the exit.

“Bye, new friend!” Hoseok calls as he maneuvers the door open with his foot, and Jimin pauses at the threshold, the bell overhead tinkling gently.

“So… guess I’ll see you on the train?” he asks, like he’s still a little unsure, and your heartbeat flutters.

“Guess so.”

“Cool.” He gives you one last soft smile before he disappears after Hoseok. The bell sounds again when the door shuts behind him, as if to snap you back to reality.

The floating feeling in your stomach doesn’t quite dissipate even long after Jimin has left the laundromat. While you wait on your clothes, you flip to a blank page in your sketchbook and start on something new: the outline of a hand extended in mid-air, rings glinting like an offered promise.

~*~

The next week, Jimin is waiting for you on your morning subway ride, the dance bag that he usually keeps tucked between his legs set on the bench next to him. When he sees you step through the train doors at 51st, you watch him reach over to swing the bag down to its rightful place on the floor, freeing up the space. An open invitation.

You can’t help but feel a little shy as you sink down next to him and murmur your thanks. There’s something about being this close to him that just makes your mind go blank, puts you at a loss for words entirely.

To your surprise, he doesn’t try to strike up conversation either. Instead he plucks one fancy bluetooth earbud out of his ear, gives it a diplomatic swipe across the fabric of his joggers, then holds it up, pinched between his fingers in front of you.

Another invitation, you realize dumbly.

The corner of your mouth turns up as you pluck the bud out of his hand and press it into your own ear. The music that must have paused itself upon the earbud’s removal resumes, and your smile grows when Jimin quickly unlocks his phone to restart the song from the beginning.

An acoustic guitar and a light, pretty voice fill your ear, underscored by a gentle yet driving beat, not unlike the rumble of the train beneath your feet. It’s like the rest of the world fades away to nothing as you stare down at his sneakers next to your shoes, hyper-aware of the mere inch or two of space between you in this moment.

As if to prove your point, the train comes to a sharp stop, enough to make you slide a little on the bench and then you’re suddenly not just close but touching, all the way down, an unbroken line from shoulder to hip to knee.

When you look over in surprise, Jimin is already looking back at you. You swear you can feel warmth radiating out from him at every point where your bodies press together.

After another dazed moment, you come to your senses enough to scoot over, breaking the contact with an embarrassed laugh as you feel your face grow hot.

Your gaze drifts back down to the floor, only to snap up again at another brush of contact, this one not initiated by you or by the motion of the train. Instead, you realize Jimin has spread his legs an inch wider to purposefully touch his knee to yours again and leave it there. You blink softly as you look over at him, but he’s staring firmly out the window of the subway car now, smiling with just his eyes.

For the rest of the ride, you think of little else but Jimin’s knee pressed against yours and the pretty pink flush in his cheeks.

You stay in comfortable silence, music floating in your ears as you exit the train at Astor Place together, until you reach the studio, where you finally return the borrowed earbud. He smiles as he tucks them both back into the case, then pushes open the door and gestures for you to enter first.

Jimin shoots you a final look before your paths diverge, and you sink into your seat with a small, dreamy sigh. Your bliss is short-lived when you hear Taehyung’s voice over your shoulder.

“That was fast.”

You whip around to shoot him a look. “What was fast?”

He makes a face, like it’s obvious. “You’re already banging the model and it’s been, what, two weeks?”

Taehyung’s just close enough that you can lean forward and smack him on the arm, and he hisses in a way that has to be an exaggeration. Thankfully he seems to take the hint, and manages to actually keep his mouth shut as the professor commands everyone’s attention at the center of the room.

When Jimin emerges in the usual black satin, you try to keep your composure, but you can’t ignore the chill that dots up your spine when he lets the fabric fall to the floor.

Nevertheless, you sink into the routine of class, the thrill of Jimin’s naked body now equal parts familiar and exhilarating. The only difference is that today, when you’re dismissed, you make no effort to quickly pack up. You instead purposefully take your time, adding a few extra details to your last sketch before you finally start putting things away. Your gaze flickers up distractedly to see Jimin pulling his dressing gown back over his body as he moves to close the distance between you.

“Hi,” he says simply when he reaches your easel, and you smile.

“Hi.”

“Sorry, is, uh— is it okay that I talk to you, when I’m—” He gestures vaguely to his lower half with one hand, using the other to keep himself covered.

You swallow hard at the thin layer of fabric and everything you know lies beneath it. “Yeah, it’s okay,” you say, hating how breathless you sound.

“When are you done with classes today?”

It takes an extra second for you to remember your own schedule. “Uh, six.”

Jimin fidgets with the satin material in his hands, clearly a little uncomfortable. Or maybe nervous. “Would you… want to get dinner after? With me?”

Your stomach flutters as you nod. “Yeah, yes. I’d like that.”

~*~

When you emerge from your last class, you find Jimin waiting for you on Astor Place, and you’re not expecting it when he greets you with a single question: “Do you like sushi?” You answer affirmatively, and he nods over his shoulder. “Then let’s walk this way.”

You end up tucked into two seats at a place you’ve never been to before, where rolls and other plates of food zip past you on a steadily moving conveyor belt. Jimin shows you how to pop the plates out from their protective domes, and you gather a small feast of options on the table between you to share.

“So,” you start with a nervous smile, chopsticks hovering in midair. “Can I ask the obvious question?”

He quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. “What’s that?”

“What made you decide to nude model?” The words alone send fresh waves of heat and nerves through you, sparkling in your chest. “Or have you done it before?”

“I haven’t,” Jimin confirms with a shake of his head, then he pops a piece of sushi in his mouth as if to buy himself time. He chews, bringing a hand up as he speaks with his mouth still half-full. “Do you want the real answer?”

You nod, and his adam’s apple jerks as he swallows. There’s a look on his face like he isn’t quite sure what to say, and then he exhales a weighty sigh. “I’ve struggled with my body for a really long time. Especially in undergrad.”

Your eyes widen slightly— you weren’t expecting such a serious response.

“Dance doesn’t typically have the best culture for that to begin with,” he continues, “and I’d spend literally all day staring at myself in a mirror, so I would just… pick myself apart. Always convinced I wasn’t good enough, that I needed to lose more weight, always.”

The thought of it makes your heart ache, but you let him talk.

“I’m through the worst of it now, so please don’t feel like you need to be worried. But I have some friends who’ve done this kind of thing before and it seemed like, I don’t know, a good challenge?” His brow creases, contemplative. “I really love art, so I thought maybe if I did it, I might be able to see my body in a new way, through the eyes of other people. Of artists.” He pauses, then nods, like he’s said his piece.

It takes you a second to respond. “That’s… beautiful, Jimin.”

He looks down, clearly a little uncomfortable. “Sorry if that was too heavy.”

“I can take it,” you say softly, and it’s enough to make him glance back up in surprise. “Thank you for telling me.”

A faint color floods his face. “Thanks for listening.”

You eat in a silence that’s oddly comfortable, and when you both reach for the same piece of sushi and end up knocking chopsticks together, he lets you have it, picking up the thread of conversation again as he smiles. “What got you into art?”

You make a face, chased by an unsure shrug. “Is it bad if I say it’s the only thing I feel like I’m good at?”

Jimin laughs a little. “I don’t know that I believe you.”

“I mean,” you lean back in your seat. “Maybe not the only thing, but I’ve just never been able to see myself doing anything else. I’m not cut out for the corporate life, as much as my parents wish I was. Art’s always been the thing that I go to in my free time. When I’m feeling so much that it’s overwhelming, or so numb that it’s like I can’t feel anything, the act of creating something just… brings me back to center again.” You worry your bottom lip between your teeth. “It’s an outlet, I guess.”

“Well, if it helps, you’re very good at it.”

“Thanks,” you say with a small smile. “But it’s not even about being good, at least not to me. Maybe it sounds weird, but I don’t really have any interest in being the best. It’s art, so it’s all subjective anyway. I just wanna make stuff.”

Jimin smirks as he adds another empty plate to the growing stack in front of you, tongue poking briefly at the inside of his cheek before he speaks. “I could stand to be more like you.”

“Your turn,” you shoot back. “Why dance?”

At this, he actually brings a hand up to cover his face, and his voice is muffled under his palm when he responds. “I can tell you exactly why, but it’s embarrassing.”

You shift a little in your chair to get a better look at him. “Don’t be embarrassed! It’s not like I—” you cut yourself off before you can very obviously finish the sentence with ‘haven’t seen your dick’, and you shove a piece of sushi in your mouth to shut yourself up, so fast you nearly choke.

Jimin laughs loudly into his hands, and then you’re laughing too, dropping your head down on the table to try and chew your food without asphyxiating.

“Okay, okay,” he gasps when he can finally manage to take a breath in. “I’ll tell you.”

He sets his chopsticks down, overly serious. “When I was little, I was obsessed with Titanic. Specifically the scene where they dance together, and Rose rises up on her toes in front of everyone.” There are practically stars in his eyes as he recounts the moment, and you can’t bear to cut him off. “I just thought she was so beautiful, and I wanted to be like that. Almost broke my toes trying to go en pointe barefoot like an idiot.”

You’re silent for a moment, and there’s a flicker of panic in Jimin’s face, like he’s worried he overshared. “I have to be honest,” you say softly. “I’ve never seen Titanic.”

His eyes nearly pop out of his head. “What?!”

Already expecting the reaction, you grimace and nod. “I know, I know. Everyone gets mad at me for it. Go ahead.”

Jimin’s eyes flit from your face to the remaining piece of sushi on the plate between you, then back again. “I mean, we can go solve this problem right now, if you want.” He pauses, then admits with a giggle, “I have it on DVD.”

You shrug, trying to act casual despite the way your pulse has started to quicken. “They canceled my morning seminar for tomorrow, so I’m down.”

He leans forward to steal the last piece of sushi with a smug smile. “Then let’s get out of here.”

It’s a short train ride back to Jimin’s place, and you make it in the front door just in time to see Hoseok slipping out of what looks to be his bedroom. You barely process him as the same person— tonight his dark hair is swept off his forehead, and he’s in nice dress pants and a white button-down, unbuttoned just enough to display the delicate spread of his collarbone.

“Hi kids!” he calls in greeting, and you wave back as you kick your shoes off.

Hoseok crosses to grab a mirrored pair of aviators and his keys off the table by the front door. “Daddy’s going out. You two have fun, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” He pauses for a moment, like he’s waiting for a joke to land, then cracks a grin. “By which I obviously mean do whatever the fuck you want.”

As Hoseok pulls the door shut behind him, you follow Jimin into the living room, where you perch nervously on the edge of the couch while he disappears into the kitchen. “Do you like prosecco?” he asks, raising his voice slightly to be heard.

“Uh, I think so,” you say unsurely. “I don’t think I ever developed enough of a palette to have wine preferences.”

“White and sparkling?”

“Sounds good,” you respond, and then you hear the distinct noise of a cork popping before he returns with a bottle and two glasses in hand. He sets everything on the coffee table as he takes a seat next to you, then leans forward to fill both glasses nearly to the brim.

Jimin’s face flushes when you giggle softly at the pour. “Sorry— I like to drink. You don’t have to finish it all.” You shrug and take a healthy pull from your glass. It’s crisp and light, with little bubbles that fizz and pop all the way down. 

“Hoseok calls me a lush,” he admits with a shy laugh as he picks up his own drink and turns to face you, sitting back against the arm of the couch. You shift to mirror him, curling your socked feet up under you. He takes a sip, then seems to think better of it, leaning forward to set his glass down on the table again. “I did want to tell you something. A couple of things, I guess.”

The sentence makes your stomach twist, and you try your best to ignore it. “What’s up?”

Jimin’s lips press together for a moment, as if he’s trying to figure out how to word whatever he’s about to say. “I’m not, like, trying to be presumptuous by telling you this but I just— I don’t want it to go unsaid and then come up later and be a whole big thing, so. I just want you to know that Hoseok is my ex.”

Your eyes widen in surprise. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but certainly not that.

“We dated freshman year of undergrad, for… maybe three months? It was the kind of thing where I knew I was bi in high school but was too scared to act on it, so when I moved to New York I just, like, dated the first gay person I met? Which was probably a little shitty of me. We quickly realized we work much better as friends, and it was a very mutual thing. No hard feelings.”

You nod slowly, trying to keep up. “And you’ve lived together since then?”

“No, no,” Jimin replies quickly, and he nearly grimaces as he continues. “At the end of last semester, I, uh… I got out of a pretty bad long-term relationship.” The way he says it makes your heart sink a little. “And she and I lived together, so Hoseok was extremely gracious and offered to take me in.”

He reaches for his glass of wine again, then pauses with it halfway to his mouth. “Ideally the number of exes I’d be living with would be zero, but. You know. This is definitely the better option, at least until I can figure out what comes next.”

A pause settles between you while he takes a long drink and you try to process all this new information. “I’m sorry about the breakup,” you say softly, and he shakes his head as he swallows.

“Don’t be. It was a very good thing. Long overdue.”

“Well,” you correct yourself, the corners of your mouth pulling up. “Then I’m sorry that it took so long.”

At this, he smiles back. “Me fuckin’ too.”

After one more sip, Jimin sets his wine back down on the coffee table, then rolls off the couch— surprisingly graceful— to retrieve Titanic from the small collection of movies lined up on the shelf beneath the TV.

“Ready?”

“This better have a happy ending,” you murmur over the edge of your wine glass. Jimin laughs so hard he nearly tips over.

He settles next to you again as the movie starts, painted pretty in the blue glow of the TV, and you try your best to watch the movie, but it’s hard to keep your eyes off him. Partway through you notice him grab a pillow off the back of the couch and hug both of his arms around it, curling up small.

Cute, you can’t help but think to yourself, and you can feel heat settle in your face as you try to refocus on the story.

When you reach the dancing scene Jimin sits up a little, lips parting slightly, that same starry look in his eyes as when he explained it initially. The mental image of a younger version of him equally enraptured by the moment nearly makes your chest cave in.

The movie goes on, and you’re draining the last of your second glass of wine when out of the corner of your eye, you see Jimin’s eyes go wide. Jack and Rose are closely examining a rare diamond necklace, and you don’t understand what he could be reacting to until Kate Winslet delivers her next line.

“Jack, I want you to draw me like one of your French girls.”

Your eyes go just as wide as Jimin’s, and you let out a laugh of disbelief that’s nearly a scream. “Oh my fucking god, Park Jimin! You did this on purpose!”

“I swear, I didn’t! I didn’t even think about that part until right now!” He shakes his head desperately as he gasps for air, and he doubles over with his own laughter, rolling right off the couch, arms still clutched tightly around his pillow.

“I literally cannot believe this.” You dissolve into giggles as you sink to your knees on the floor beside him, close to tears.

It takes time for you both to recover, but Jimin eventually manages to pull himself back up to sitting, shoulders still shaking slightly with laughter. He lets the pillow drop to the floor and presses both of his palms down into it as he leans towards you. “But hey, maybe that’s why I like you.”

He’s so magnetic, so beautiful, you can’t help but lean in, too. “You like me?”

There’s a warm glow of color in his cheeks, and you’re not sure if you can blame it entirely on the wine. “I do.”

Your lingering smile slowly starts to soften, and now your heart feels like it might pound out of your chest. “So what, you’re Rose and I’m Jack?”

His gaze drops to your mouth, his voice barely more than a whisper as he murmurs, “Uh-huh”. Imaginary violins swell in your head as you surge forward to close the distance and press your lips to his.

Jimin’s lips are soft and warm, and your head spins as you sit up on your knees and lean into the kiss. While his mouth moves gently against yours, his palms press to the small of your back, and the heat of his hands radiates through the thin fabric of your shirt. You wrap your arms over his shoulders, partially for balance and partially in an attempt to pull him closer to you.

He tilts his head, and you whimper against him when you feel his tongue trace delicately over your bottom lip. He returns a breathy noise back as he licks slowly into your mouth, like he’s taking his time, like he’s not in any rush.

Even though you can feel your arousal starting to build, heavy in your gut and slick between your thighs, you realize: you want him to take his time with you.

You’re surprised at the loss when he suddenly leans back, just enough to break the kiss, still keeping you held close. “Is it, um—” he clears his throat, then tries again. “I don’t… want to go any further. Than this. At least not tonight. Is that okay?”

Your eyes search his, and you’re a little breathless when you manage to get the words out. “Yeah. Yeah, of course. I’m good with that. With whatever you want.”

“Okay.” You exhale a laugh when he reaches over to find the remote on the coffee table and pause the movie. “I want to keep kissing you, if that’s alright.”

“Yes, please,” you murmur against his lips.

Jimin shifts a little, and you follow his lead, letting him tip you backwards onto the floor, your arms still looped around his neck, one hand now tangling in his honey blonde hair. He drops a forearm down to the carpet beside you, his other hand coming to rest at the curve of your waist, knees bracketing your hips as he covers your body with his.

He alternates between sucking on your lower lip and gentle passes of his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your waist tracing a lazy path down to your hip and back up again. Something pulled tight inside you starts to slowly unwind, blooming open as you sink into the rhythm, into him.

It’s been such a long time since you’ve just kissed someone like this, without it feeling like part of a race to get naked. And you’ve never been kissed like this in your life— so soft, so attentive. It’s enough to make you dizzy, even with your back pressed flat to the floor.

You lose track of how much time passes as you trade open-mouthed kisses on Jimin’s living room carpet, until he finally pulls away again. Still in a daze, you shift the hand in his hair to gently cup his face, not quite able to believe that he’s really real.

“God,” Jimin breathes, laughing quietly to himself. “I really like you.”

You smile as you blink up at him. “I like you too, Jimin.” 

Rolling over, he drops down onto the floor next to you with a blissed-out sigh. He stretches his arms overhead, spine arching like a cat, then lifts up again to glance back at you. “Do you want more wine? ‘Cause we’re only like halfway done. This movie is stupid long.”

“I could go for more,” you answer with a shrug, still smiling.

In one swift move, Jimin flips his legs over his head and effortlessly somersaults up to standing, and your eyes go wide. “How do you fucking do that?!”

“I’m a trained professional!” he calls over his shoulder as he sashays into the kitchen. You giggle a little. “I would break every bone in my body.”

He’s humming prettily to himself, and you hear the sound of the fridge opening and closing, followed by the pop of another bottle being uncorked. You pull yourself back onto the couch as he rejoins you and pours fresh wine into both glasses, and a sudden curiosity urges you to ask a question. “Is Titanic your favorite movie?”

Jimin shakes his head, but says nothing, and the strange hesitant expression that flashes over his face just makes you that much more intrigued.

“Let’s hear it.”

His eyes flit over to you, then back to the wine glasses. “You’ll laugh.”

“I won’t!” you exclaim, lifting a hand when he scrunches up his nose, doubtful. “Promise.”

With a reluctant sigh, Jimin sets the bottle back down on the table, staring straight ahead as he admits, “It’s The Notebook.”

You press your lips together, trying desperately to keep your mouth in a straight line. At least you manage not to laugh. “I— wow. Really?”

He nods like the reaction is expected, picking up his wine glass and settling back against the couch cushions. “I don’t know, there’s just something about it. It’s comforting, to me.”

“You’re such a romantic,” you murmur, gently nudging his thigh with your foot until you coax a smile out of him.

“You know what?” Jimin’s voice is thoughtful now, more self-assured. “I am.” He takes a sip of his drink before he continues. “For a long time I didn’t want to be. Or thought that I couldn’t be. I used to always try to be so. I don’t know. Masculine, I guess. I think some of it had to do with denying my sexuality, but even once I got around to accepting that, there was still this part of me that would just never allow myself to be… soft.”

His gaze drops down to the wine in his glass, and you sit up, tucking your legs underneath you to scoot closer to him until you’re side by side. “I like you soft,” you say simply, and he looks over at you, still smiling.

“If we watch The Notebook I will cry.”

“That’s okay.” You lean into him to seek a kiss, made sweet from the wine. He hums a little against your lips before you pull back. “Same time next week?”

~*~

Just like that, you fall into a regular routine with Jimin: sharing his headphones on the morning train, sketching out the shape of his body in studio, then picking up takeout and wine to bring back to his place and split over a movie. As predicted, The Notebook does make him cry, and when you show him Kimi no Na wa the week after, hot tears stream down your face at the final scene, the way they always do.

He takes your head in his hands as the credits roll, his thumbs swiping at errant tears on your cheeks. You chase a sniffle with an embarrassed laugh. “Okay. We’re even now.”

On your fourth movie night, partway into Moulin Rouge, something emboldens you when you see Jimin reach for his usual couch pillow. You lean over and gently pry it out of his grip, then shift to tuck yourself into his side and curl your legs up in his lap instead.

“Better?”

“Mm-hmm”, he murmurs as he ducks down to nuzzle against your cheek. “You’re warm.”

These nights end the same way each time: you ride the train home with a wine-soaked buzz in your brain and flushed, kiss-bitten lips, your fingertips brushing over your own mouth at the memory of his.

Once a week quickly turns into more. The two of you coordinate laundromat afternoons where you listen to music together as you wait for your clothes. You usually end up drawing to pass the time, and sometimes Jimin dozes off, head tipping over onto your shoulder so gently that you can’t help but smile down at your sketchbook.

At his request, you help him dye his hair pink in his tiny apartment bathroom, and it somehow suits him just as well as honey blonde. You both get dizzy from laughter and cleaning product fumes as you desperately try to scrub the bubblegum stains out of the tile before Hoseok comes home.

When you finally introduce Jimin to your roommates, the four of you crammed all-too formally around the kitchen table over Yoongi’s cooking, the interaction feels like a cross between a job interview and a prom date meeting your parents. You choke on a piece of chicken that you nearly inhale when Namjoon offhandedly refers to Jimin as Subway Boy, and Yoongi smiles wide enough to show his gums as he gladly recounts your months-long crush in great detail while you bury your burning face in your arms.

But Jimin takes it in stride, laughs into your mouth as he kisses you over the sink while the two of you wash the dishes.

“Subway Boy, huh?”

“I will drown you,” you murmur as you pull away, brandishing the spray hose like a threat.

It’s easy and slow. This blossoming something, a nameless but undeniable spark, the calm comfort of Jimin’s arms wrapped around your waist, his fingers intertwined with yours, his head dropped down on your shoulder.

~*~

You dig your phone out of your pocket as you shoulder open the door to the dance building, pulling up the text from Jimin to double-check his practice room number. A train delay made you slightly later than your agreed-upon time, but you know the takeout bag of Indian food dangling over your wrist will easily earn you his forgiveness.

It doesn’t surprise you that he’s the only one left in the room when you find it, nor that he’s still reviewing the choreography with an expression of severe focus. You hover in the doorway, waiting for him to look up, but he’s entirely concentrated on his own reflection in the mirror.

His movements alternate between delicate and powerful, explosive and restrained, and you have to hold in an outright gasp when he launches his body into an aerial and lands it effortlessly. But then his feet falter in a split second of hesitation, and you can see his expression tighten, clearly frustrated.

“Fuck,” he mutters to himself as he rubs a hand over his face, and he doesn’t even try to keep going with the rest of the dance. You take the opportunity to step a few more paces into the room, and his eyes jump to you in the mirror.

“Hi,” you say softly, suddenly a little nervous to be intruding on the moment. The corner of Jimin’s mouth turns up, but his eyes seem far away, and you can tell he’s still raging at himself in his mind.

“Hi, sorry,” he sighs. “I just— can’t get this. It’s like my body isn’t doing what I tell it to.”

“You need food.” You try to say it gently as you cross the room, holding up the smiley-face adorned plastic takeout bag. “And perhaps the enigmatic charm of Rachel McAdams.”

This seems to shake him out of his thoughts, at least a little. “I do like her.” He steps close enough to slip his arms around your waist and pull your body flush against his. Sweat glistens on his collarbone in the dim practice room lighting. “But I like you more.”

You roll your eyes as you playfully smack a hand against his solid chest. “Stop lying.”

“‘M not,” he insists as he presses a kiss to the hinge of your jaw. “Rachel McAdams has never once brought me masala dosa.” You giggle despite yourself, and when his lips drop down to your neck, it’s enough to make your breath hitch.

A spark ignites in your chest that doesn’t go out, not on the subway ride back to your apartment, not through dinner and a movie, and certainly not once you’re most of the way through the second bottle of wine. As the credits start to roll, you waste no time, turning in Jimin’s lap so you can properly straddle him and take his face in your hands.

You trade decadent, easy kisses, and Jimin’s hands settle at the small of your back, his thumbs massaging gentle circles into your hips. A shiver rolls up your spine when he shifts a little and you realize you can feel a growing bulge through the fabric of his joggers, pressed firm against your thigh. He breathes a soft sound into your mouth as his tongue slides over yours, and you’re so overwhelmed, you barely register the sound of keys in the lock or the front door opening.

It’s Jimin who reacts first, turning his head to break the kiss as his cheeks flood with color, and you glance over your shoulder just in time to see Yoongi storm past, heading for his room. He lifts a hand up to his face to shield you from view as he goes.

“Don’t stop on my account!” Yoongi’s voice is dripping with derision. “By all means, continue fucking on our shared furniture!”

“We’re fully clothed, asshole!” you snap in response as Yoongi slams the bedroom door behind him, hard enough that it rattles in the frame.

When you look back down at Jimin, his face is twisted in an expression you take to be embarrassment. You drop your head down on his shoulder with a frustrated groan, the moment successfully killed.

“Do you…” you pause, turning your head to the side but continuing to ask your question into the fabric of his shirt. “We could go to my room, for more privacy, if you want?”

He hums his agreement, and when you peel yourself off the couch and head for your room, he follows. You spin back around to face him in the doorway, so fast he nearly knocks into you.

You brace your hands on the doorframe as you survey him. “We really don’t have to… do anything, if you don’t want to. We can just talk.”

Jimin nods, and you step aside to let him enter first, pulling the door closed behind you as you follow. He takes a few tentative steps into the room, and you walk past him to drop down onto the floor next to your bed, then pat the carpet to encourage him to join. There’s a flash of something over his face, and then he sinks down beside you. It’s only now that you realize how quiet he’s gotten.

“What is it?” you ask, suddenly a little nervous.

He stares down at the soles of his feet, pressed into each other, his knees tipped open like butterfly wings. “Does it make you feel bad? That we’re not—”

“No,” you answer immediately, and the honesty of it resonates in your chest.

“I know we’ve been hanging out for a while,” he continues, voice low. “And I do want to, you know. Hook up.”

“Jimin,” you lean forward to place both of your hands over one of his, settled atop his knee. “You don’t have to explain anything to me. When you want to, I want to. But I like everything we’ve been doing, too. It’s not like we’re not… intimate.”

His gaze flits up from the floor to meet yours. “I don’t want you to think that I don’t want you.”

You close your fingers around his hand, pulling it off his leg and up to your face so you can brush your lips over his palm.

“I don’t think that at all,” you murmur against his skin. “Promise.”

There’s a hint of a smile in his eyes when you look back up at him. “Okay. Sorry, I know it’s stupid. Like why do I need reassurance from you when I’m the one being difficult?”

You press your cheek into the warmth of his hand, toying lazily with the rings on his fingers. “Why are you so convinced that you’re difficult?”

Jimin huffs a small sigh. “This conversation has not gone this well in the past.” His eyes drop to the floor again, and after a moment’s pause, he keeps talking.

“My ex and I struggled a lot with…” he shakes his head, as if he’s trying not to say ‘everything’. “Sex. With me wanting it, with us having enough of it. I think it gave me a complex. I could be physically, you know, ready, but then as soon as she’d touch me I’d get in my head about everything and freak out and immediately want to stop.” He pauses, worrying at his bottom lip.

You pull his hand into your lap, your fingers delicately tracing over his in an attempt to provide some comfort. He shrugs when he starts to speak again. “And then, I don’t know, I guess she was just trying to share her side, but... she would make me feel so bad about it sometimes. Because I was genuinely trying so hard but it was like I was never good enough.” Another pause, and this time he sniffs a little. When his eyes roll up to stare at the ceiling, you can see he’s holding back tears. “It felt like she didn’t want me anymore, not if there wasn’t sex. So I left.”

“Jimin,” you breathe, and he flashes you a small grimace, clearly embarrassed by his own dramatics. With a grunt of effort, he turns sideways and flops backwards onto the floor of your room, and you scoot closer to him, your hand still playing with his.

His gaze roams over the ceiling as he sighs. “I don’t want you to think I was this perfect person and she was some awful bitch. She loved me a lot, and I’m sure she was struggling with not feeling wanted either, in her own way.”

Your voice is soft when you interject. “Two people can just be… incompatible. It doesn’t mean either of them is a bad person, or that it’s anyone’s fault. Sometimes things just don’t work, no matter how hard you try.”

Jimin’s mouth pulls up on one side as he shakes his head, eyes squinting. “How did you get to be so smart?”

You can’t help but laugh a little, lacing your fingers together with his in your lap. “Years of making terrible decisions.” You give his hand a gentle squeeze before you ask a question. “Did you struggle with this before, or just with her?”

His mouth twists slightly, unsure. “Yes and no? Both? My desire has always… fluctuated, I guess. Been a little shy.” A smile spreads over his face, and he hums a note. “Like, you know how people say love at first sight isn’t a thing? That it’s just lust?” You nod, prompting him to continue. “I think, at least for me, it’s the opposite. I can fall for somebody, and fall hard, like that.” He snaps loudly with his free hand. “But lust… I don’t know, it takes longer. It’s like a slow burn thing.”

You nod again, processing his words for a moment before you respond. “Well, I’m in no rush.”

Jimin sits up, voice thoughtful as he untangles his hand from yours, and it’s clear he’s getting more comfortable opening up to you. “Right after the breakup, I did a lot of research. I found this term, demisexual, that felt pretty accurate.” He shrugs. “But I don’t know. I mostly just think that... I am who I am. And the people who get it will get it. Like you.”

Before you can even speak, he sweeps an arm under your calves to drag you into his lap in one swift move, and you squeak a little in surprise as your world tilts.

“Demisexual. I like it,” you giggle as he guides your legs to wrap around his middle. His hands slide up your thighs, grabbing at your hips to tug you closer so he can trail kisses along your neck.

“Biromantic demisexual, technically,” he murmurs, head tipping up to find your mouth again.

You drape your arms over his shoulders and hum against his lips as he kisses you. “It suits you.”

Another soft noise escapes you when Jimin manages to maneuver to standing with you still in his arms. You tighten your grip on his shoulders and your legs around his waist, and his hands shift down to your ass to firmly hold you up. You squeeze your eyes shut automatically in fear of being dropped, then flutter them open again when you feel your back press into the soft cushion of your bedspread.

Jimin is hovering over you, forearms dropped down to the bed on either side of you. His eyes search yours for a moment, and then he leans in to kiss you again, so fiercely this time that it leaves you breathless. You can’t help but whimper as his tongue slips into your mouth.

When he finally pulls away, he presses his forehead to your collarbone with a groan. “It’s late,” he murmurs, breath ghosting over your neck. “I should go.”

You nod responsibly, despite how desperately you want him to stay.

You walk him out, and his sweet parting kiss leaves your heart hammering in your chest, enough that you slump against the frame with a sigh once you shut the door, your knees suddenly weak.

Light on your feet, you follow the faint noise of the TV to find Yoongi in the living room with Planet Earth on at a barely audible volume. He glances at you, his mouth a flat line, then reaches for the remote to turn the sound up a few notches. You drop down on the couch next to him, and it’s silent for a moment, save for the calm narration and the crinkling plastic of him tearing open a bag of Turtle Chips.

“How’d it go?” he finally asks, voice monotone.

“It’s good,” you answer softly. “We’re good.” You fold your legs up under yourself and sneak a look at Yoongi out of the corner of your eye. You’re still a little pissed, but you also want advice. Damn him for knowing everything.

“Have you heard the term ‘demisexual’ before?”

Yoongi nods, still chewing as he replies. “Yeah. Like asexual spectrum, right?”

You shrug. “I guess. It’s new to me.”

He shoves a few more chips in his mouth before he continues. “Is that what your Subway Boy is?”

“I think so, yeah.”

There’s a long pause while you watch penguins march across the screen, and you think that might be the end of it. Then Yoongi clears his throat. “You know, I’m somewhere in there too. Not completely asexual, but definitely not… not.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?”

Yoongi snorts. “Don’t act so shocked. These walls aren’t that thick.”

“Is Joon?”

He smirks, like you’ve just told a joke. “Decidedly not.”

“Oh.” You blink, trying to process. “How do you deal with it?”

Yoongi makes a face, like he’s never thought about it before. “We just communicate, I guess. Be respectful even when we don’t necessarily understand. And, like, Namjoon watches porn, and surprisingly reads quite a bit of erotica—”

“Okay, okay,” you cut him off. “I don’t need all the details.”

He huffs a dry laugh at your discomfort. “It’s not always easy, sometimes it’s frustrating for both of us. But we make it work. We love each other.”

You chew a little at the inside of your cheek, and then you can’t hold in the question any longer. “Is it weird that the idea doesn’t bother me? Jimin said it was a huge issue with his ex. Like, does that make me on the… spectrum?”

Yoongi shrugs. “I mean, you might be? But not necessarily? I don’t know, sex matters different amounts to everyone. Some people don’t mind not having it that often. You don’t have to put a label on it unless you want to, you know?”

“Yeah, makes sense.” You nod slowly as you digest the idea. “Thanks, Yoongi. I appreciate the education.”

His only answer at first is a noncommittal hum, and then he points a finger at the few inches of wine in the bottle you left sitting on the coffee table. “Gonna finish that?”

“It’s all yours,” you say. “Consider it atonement for going to first base on the couch.”

Yoongi grabs the bottle by the neck and immediately drains it. “Apology accepted,” he grunts as he sets it back down. “And I’m sorry I snapped at you.” He extends his bag of chips in your direction and you happily reach in for the biggest handful you can manage.

~*~

During your next movie night, Jimin can’t keep his hands to himself.

They pet up your thighs, your legs draped over his, then slide up to your hips, fingertips tracing patterns over the waistband of your leggings and toying at the hem of your shirt.

His mouth has a similar problem: he leans in to press kisses along the line of your jaw, then down the slope of your neck, sucking delicately at the spot that makes your nipples tighten and sends a shiver through you.

“You’re missing the movie,” you remark, raking a hand through his peachy-pink hair, shadowed at the roots where his natural color has started to grow in. He’s typically good about keeping himself restrained until the credits roll, but you’re barely halfway through Pride & Prejudice, haven’t even cracked a second bottle yet.

“Fuck the movie,” he growls against your skin, and you bite back a whimper when his teeth scrape over your neck. You can’t ignore the way your core is starting to ache from his insistent mouth.

His lips find yours again, and you giggle softly into him. “You’re in a mood.”

“Just been thinking about you,” he murmurs between kisses. It surprises you a little when he suddenly pulls back so he can look you in the eyes. “Should we— do you want to go to my room?”

The air hangs still and heavy between you, and you worry at your bottom lip for a moment. “Are you sure?” When he nods, dark brown eyes blinking up at you, your mouth turns up at the corner. “I’d rather we not traumatize any more roommates if we can help it.”

You lean over to pause the movie before sliding off his lap and getting to your feet, and then you reach your hands out for his and pull him up next to you. “Come on.”

Jimin’s bedroom is so perfectly him that it relaxes you, feather-soft comfort every time you step inside. His bed isn’t made, because it never is, the thick white duvet pushed down on one side where he stumbled out from beneath it this morning. He keeps it dark, blackout curtains drawn to support his night owl lifestyle, and the room is bathed in the warm glow of fairy lights he’s strung up along the ceiling. A myriad of posters and art prints and polaroids are taped to the walls, some beautiful, others sentimental— he even managed to coax you into tearing a few of his favorites out of your sketchbook. You still don’t think they’re anything special, but nevertheless, it makes your heart squeeze in your chest to see them on display with everything else. Like they belong here in this room, like you do too.

The door clicks as it shuts behind him, and then his mouth is on yours again, kissing you dizzy while he backs you up until your knees hit the edge of the bed. He guides you to lay down, and his hand slips beneath you to drag you up the bed with him as he crawls over you.

His hands come up to tug at your shirt. “Can I take this off?” he breathes.

You nod, staring up at him and not quite able to believe any of this is real. “You can do anything you want to me.” With a smile, he lifts the hem of your shirt, and you sit up a little so he can pull it the rest of the way off.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Jimin murmurs against your skin as he kisses down your neck, over your collarbones, then down between the valley of your breasts. His hands slip down to palm at your tits, squeezing gently, and he mouths at the stiff peaks of your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette. You untangle briefly, only for as long as it takes to get the lacy thing off of you entirely and tossed over the edge of the bed.

You shiver a little as the air hits your bare skin, and then the warmth of his body covers you again, and he ducks down to close his mouth over your nipple and suck. The plush softness of his lips and the firm suction combined are enough to make your eyes roll back, and your spine arches up beneath him when he drags his tongue in a circle over the sensitive bud.

“Shit,” you groan. Your hands fist in the fabric of his shirt, and it feels like your only tether to reality.

It’s easy to believe it’s the waiting, the anticipation of this moment, that makes every little touch light you up like a live wire now. But something tells you it will always feel like this.

While his lips shift to your other breast, one hand slides down to cup your clothed pussy, rubbing gentle friction into your center. You circle your hips to press yourself against the flat of his palm, sighing at the brush of indirect contact and the heat that thrums through you from the pressure on your clit.

You feel Jimin’s weight shift on the mattress as he kneels next to you, and his lips find yours again at the same time his hand slips into your leggings, two fingers tracing the seam of your panties to make you whine softly. If he couldn’t tell before, he must be able to now: how wet you are, enough to drench the lacy fabric so it clings to your cunt, dripping arousal to show how badly you want him.

He’s surprisingly forceful when he tugs the damp fabric to the side, but so gentle again as he slips one finger and then a second into your tight heat. Your mouth drops open as he curls them up to rub at your g-spot, stroking into you over and over while your cunt squeezes tight around him.

Your head drops back on the pillow and you groan. “Oh, fuck, Jimin.”

You can hear how soaked your pussy is as he pumps into you, and the wet squelch of his fingers working inside you would make you shy if it didn’t feel so overwhelmingly perfect. The pleasure edges your breathing with soft sounds, and Jimin swallows them when he kisses you again.

He shifts slightly for a better angle and then you feel the heel of his palm grind down against your clit. It’s enough to make your hips buck up under him with every press of his hand, his insistent touch shooting sparks of arousal through you.

It’s been so long since anyone has touched you, and you’ve wanted this with him so badly for so long, but even still, it surprises you how quickly he can bring you to the edge.

“Jimin,” you break the kiss to gasp against his mouth, unable to believe how close you already are. Close enough that all you can do is cling, to any part of him you can reach: his hair, his shoulders, the fabric of his shirt. “Jimin, Jimin, fuck.”

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he groans, and he says the next part softer, like it’s just for him. “My girl looks so pretty on my fingers.”

The pace of his movements doesn’t falter, nor does the heavy weight of his palm as he ducks down to capture your nipple in his mouth again. Your pussy pulses around him, sucking him in to the last knuckle with each thrust of his hand, and your nails dig desperately into his forearm as you feel your orgasm crest.

His teeth graze lightly over the tight bud of your breast, and it’s enough. With a final whine, the arousal that’s been coiling inside you snaps, and your back arches up off the bed as you come hard on his fingers.

Jimin’s fingers keep stroking you through it, the flat of his palm rubbing rough circles against your clit again and again and again and it feels like you might never stop coming. You moan as it rolls over you, wave after wave, until his touch is so overwhelming that you have to pull your trembling thighs together, and he finally relents.

Spent, your body sinks heavy into the bed, and you can’t help the dazed giggle that flutters out as afterglow starts to bloom behind your ribs.

Jimin hovers over you, dropped down onto his forearms, full lips pressing indiscriminately to your flushed skin, all over. You snake a hand through his hair to pull his mouth up to yours, and he kisses you slow and deep.

When you break apart, you tip your forehead to his. “Can I touch you?” you ask, still a little breathless.

“Please,” he murmurs, lips brushing against yours again before he pulls away with a small, embarrassed smile. “My pants hurt.”

You sit up on your knees and he does too, and you bite down on your lip as you reach for the hem of his shirt. He helps you pull it over his head, and then there he is, beautiful as ever. Familiar, yet somehow all new.

Jimin shivers and whines when your hands run across the bare skin of his chest, teasing over his soft brown nipples before starting to trace a path down to his stomach. You lean in to kiss him, and he outright groans into your mouth when your fingertips tease along the band of his boxers that peeks out over his jeans. You gently bring your palms to his hips to guide him, and he’s pliant for you, shifting backwards at your suggestion until he’s seated, leaned back against the headboard.

Your hands shake slightly as you unbutton and push down his jeans, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh of relief. He’s so hard, you can understand why the tight denim must have been painful: his dick is still straining even now, a thick outline pressed into the fabric of his underwear, and there’s a dark patch that clings to his tip where he’s started to leak precum.

You tug his boxers down with enough force that his length smacks heavy against his stomach, and he makes a strangled noise in response, eyes squeezing shut. His hips jerk violently beneath you, and your jaw goes slack as you watch his cock twitch, and keep twitching, until a steady pool of milky gloss has leaked out over his stomach.

“Shit,” Jimin hisses as he comes practically untouched, and he gasps for air to try to speak. “Fuck fuck fuck— ‘msorry, thought I could—”

You can see him starting to spiral, can feel the panic starting to heat up inside his body, so you take his face in both of your hands. “Jimin.”

“This has never happened before— fuck, I don’t— this is so—”

“Jimin.” When you say his name again, firmer this time, he goes quiet, his eyes still shut tight. “Look at me,” you murmur, and he does, lashes slow-blinking open. “It’s okay. Okay?” Your gaze searches his, trying to convince him. “I like everything about you. Everything you do. You’re perfect.”

Clearly trying to steady his breathing, his chest shudders with effort, and you gently circle your thumb at the hinge of his jaw. He makes a soft noise as his eyelids drop shut again, his cheek pressing into your hand, letting you carry a little bit more of his weight.

It’s quiet for a moment, and his voice is unsure when he speaks. “There’s tissues… in the—”

“Can I take care of it?” you interrupt to ask, your voice low. His eyes blink open again to look at you, and a dark glint flickers there as the unsaid meaning of your question washes over him.

“Y-yeah.”

You take your time moving down the bed to settle between Jimin’s thighs, and you stare up at him, waiting for any indication that he wants you to stop or doesn’t feel comfortable. But he just swallows hard, his adam’s apple jerking in his throat, and nods.

Leaning down, you drag your tongue in steady, long strokes over the flat plane of his stomach to lick the mess up.

As you get the last of it, you’re surprised to feel his hand cup the back of your head. You don’t resist when he pulls you up for a kiss, then licks into your mouth to taste himself, the salt and slick of his cum sliding between your tongues.

When you break apart to swallow, Jimin’s voice is a whisper. “That okay?”

You nod, unable to bite back your smile. “You’re… really fucking hot.”

He smirks as he finds your lips again. “So are you.” The next kiss is sweeter, and then he pulls back. “If you want, we can keep— or I can go down— I don’t want—” He can’t finish any of his half-started thoughts, and you smile, lovingly running your palms over his thighs, back and forth. 

You want him so badly, more than anything, but you try to breathe through it. You can see the wheels spinning in his head, that self-critical flash in his eyes, the same furrow in his brow that creases when he gets frustrated with himself.

“I’m not saying no because I don’t want you,” you preface. “But I just don’t want you to feel stressed or get in your head about it. I want it to feel good, and I’m in no rush. Next time, okay?” 

His lips are still a little pouted, but he nods, and you lean in to sling your arms around his neck. “C’mere.”

You tug him down to the mattress, and your half-naked bodies fit together like puzzle pieces, hands tracing gentle patterns over bare skin as you kiss.

When you eventually end up with your cheek pressed to his chest, you listen to the sound of his heartbeat settling, his breathing evening out. You speak softly in the quiet of his room. “My roommate’s doing an exhibition on Friday. Will you come with me? I’ve been promised there will be free booze.”

Jimin tightens his grip on your waist, his voice slurring like he’s half-asleep. “Mmm, my favorite person and my favorite thing.” There’s a pause, and he sighs. “That sounded bad. Promise I'm not an alcoholic.”

“I know,” you laugh, dragging your lips over his collarbone, then grunting a little noise of frustration as reality starts to set in. “I have class early tomorrow. I should go before I fall asleep here.”

He whines his disapproval, but when you glance up you can see the fight going out of him, his eyelids starting to flutter closed. You lean up for one, two, three more kisses before you force yourself out of bed to find your bra and your shirt. “I’ll see you Friday?”

“Mmkay.” He inhales deep, like he’s coming up for air. “Text me when you make it home safe?”

“I will,” you promise, and you do.

~*~

Namjoon’s exhibition is laughably fancy for what really just ends up being a room full of gay, overdressed art students. The ridiculous finger foods disappear in minutes— all the broke grad school kids came hungry— but you and Jimin gladly hover around the table of champagne flutes instead, giggles sparkling between you like the bubbles that fizz in your glasses.

You’ve been trying to drag him away to actually take in the art, but he keeps necking his drinks. “You’re supposed to sip it, you demon!” you chide with a laugh as he does it again, picking up a fresh glass and throwing all of it back in one gulp.

He smirks slightly as he shakes his head. “It’s more fun this way. Try it.”

You roll your eyes, hiding the grin that threatens to stretch over your face in the rim of your drink before following suit. He’s not wrong: a rush of warmth creeps up your neck as you swallow, the world softening around you, and it’s made sweeter by the kiss Jimin leans in for. When he pulls back you can see his face is flushing, too.

“Come on, Mr. Park,” you murmur, your free hand intertwining with his as you set the empty glass down and retrieve another. “Take me on a tour.”

Jimin grabs another flute too and then you’re off, and he actually manages to drink this one slowly as you weave through the gallery, the click of your footsteps underscoring the gentle classical music that floats through the speakers. You lean into Jimin in comfortable silence as you take in each art piece, sipping delicately at your champagne, occasionally hooking your chin over his shoulder just for the thrill of being close to him.

“These are all beautiful,” he hums appreciatively as you stand in front of a wide, impressionist landscape, swirls of color that shift into shapes when you step far enough away, but dissolve into unidentifiable blobs of thick-textured paint up close. “Namjoon did a really good job curating.”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, but your eyes are on Jimin and everything else pales in comparison. He’s dressed up for the occasion, tight black jeans and a white button-down with a leather jacket thrown on over top. His hair is styled, pretty pink strands pushed back off his forehead, and his asymmetrical silver earrings glimmer in the low lighting. The result is so stunning you’ve had a hard time focusing on anything but him tonight.

A thought that’s been running through your mind all evening resurfaces again as you swallow the last of your glass of champagne.

“They should put you in a gallery.” You didn’t necessarily plan to say the thought out loud, but say it you do. Jimin quirks an eyebrow and you decide to double down. “But not here. Somewhere better.”

“The Met?” he guesses, teasing.

“The Louvre,” you counter, and he outright laughs, his head tipping back.

“The Louvre?!”

“You heard me,” you giggle, your body pressed against his side. “You’re art.”

Releasing your hand, he wraps his free arm around you to pull you into his chest, the smile still lingering over his face. “And you,” he murmurs, “are drunk.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t mean it.” Your voice is muffled slightly as you speak into his collarbone.

You tilt your head up for a kiss, and it seems to surprise both of you how quickly the atmosphere changes. It might be the more-than-several glasses of champagne to blame, or the fact that you’ve found yourselves in a corner, hidden away from the rest of the exhibition’s patrons, but the soft spark that ignites between you quickly grows into a licking flame at the touch of your lips. It’s heat-blush passion as your mouths move against each other, and you’re trying to keep quiet despite the weight of it, heavy in your core, this shared, unspoken need.

“Jimin,” you breathe into him, overwhelmed by all that he is.

He shifts, nosing at your jawline as he speaks into your ear. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

The suggestion makes you a little unsteady on your feet, your high heels threatening to topple over, and he catches you with a hand to your waist when you falter. “Like, somewhere here?”

“Too far to go all the way home,” he purrs, the hand on your body squeezing gently. “And you look too good.”

Your head swims as he kisses you again, and he pries the empty glass out of your hand, setting it down on the nearest table with his. A hand returns to the small of your back, then slips lower, cupping your ass through the fabric of your black dress. His mouth paints a smile over yours, and you grab his wrist. “Follow me.”

Stumbling your way through the gallery, trading laughs under your breath like confidants and kisses when no one is looking, you lead him back to the coat check closet at the front, thankfully left vacant by whichever freshman had been roped in to the thankless job. With a final glance over your shoulder to make sure you’re unseen, you push the door open and tug Jimin inside after you.

As soon as the coat check door closes again, he has you pressed against it, his tongue slipping hungrily into your mouth. His hands skirt up the curve of your hips as he slots a thigh between your legs, firmly pushing up the hem of your dress to grind into your clothed center.

You both freeze where you are at the sound of a moan, one that very distinctly does not come from either of you.

Jimin tries and fails to suppress a nervous laugh. Unable to make out anything in the dark, you reach your hand out, smacking aimlessly at the wall next to you until you find a lightswitch and flip it on.

“What the fu—” The man who made the noise in question flings a hand over his face at the sudden intrusive wash of fluorescents, but you’d know him from his voice alone. Kim Taehyung still has one hand gripped tight to the metal bar of a coat rack, back arched and legs spread for whoever his latest victim is, with his pants and boxers shoved down to his ankles.

Before your alcohol-soaked brain can put together a smug comment about how Taehyung needs to get his ass eaten at home like a normal human, Jimin’s voice surprises you.

“Hobi?”

You clap a hand over your mouth as you realize the man on his knees, pulling his tongue off Taehyung’s rim with a look of utter confusion, is none other than Jung Hoseok. His eyes are wide as dinner plates as his head snaps up to take the two of you in.

“Jimin?!”

“Oh my god.” You start to laugh so hard your knees buckle, and Jimin has to wrap his arms around you to keep you upright. “How the fuck did you two even meet?!”

“Do we really need to have this discussion now?!” Taehyung growls, and it only makes you laugh harder.

“Come on, come on—” Jimin is collapsing into giggles himself as he fumbles for the handle behind you. He simultaneously attempts to pull you off the door so he can swing it open. “Let’s leave them to it.”

You smack the lights off again as you make your escape, Jimin’s grip still hugging tight around your waist as you laugh until your lungs nearly give out. The lobby is thankfully empty, all the attendees pressed deeper into the gallery, so you loop your arms over his shoulders as you recover and pull his mouth back down to yours, unable to stop yourself.

“Let me take you home,” you manage to say in the space between kisses. Your tongue feels heavy when you speak; his is champagne-sweet. “Joon and Yoongi will be here for a while.”

Jimin’s agreement hums, buzzing on your lips. “Wanna take the train?”

You’re grateful the subway car you stumble into is empty, because the pull of Jimin’s mouth is too magnetic to be ignored. You don’t think you could stop kissing him if you tried.

It’s practically a race back to your apartment once you emerge from the station, partially to get out of the cold night air, though you hardly feel it with Jimin’s jacket slung over your shoulders and your body flushed hot from alcohol and desire. As you climb the four flights to your walk-up, both of you giggling and gripping tight to the banister, the spiral of the stairs sends your world spinning. You feel dizzy-drunk on wine and laughter and lust alike, and maybe something more. Something you don’t have words for yet.

It takes you three tries to get your keys in the door, and when you finally manage to get it open, you kick your shoes off and make a beeline for your bedroom, dragging Jimin along after you, hand-in-hand. Thankfully he has the foresight to remember to shut the door behind you, because all you can think about is him: the rich musk of his cologne, the taste of his tongue, the warm blush of his skin under your palms.

The leather jacket hits the floor and you step over it, walking backwards as he licks into your open mouth, shameless.

You nearly fall over when you bump up against the bed and almost lose your balance, and then you reach for the buttons of his shirt at the same time he goes for your dress. The two of you laugh your frustrations against each other as your arms tangle and get in the way.

“You first!” you insist, and he relents, lets you unbutton the starched white fabric of his button-down so he can shrug out of it. Your fingers move to undo his belt and then he takes over, impressively coordinated enough to be able to kiss you while kicking his jeans the rest of the way off, stripped down now to his black boxer-briefs. He pulls your dress up over your head, and then your barely-clothed bodies press together all the way down, the ache in your core now an undeniable throb.

Jimin takes your face in his hands and kisses you again, and you slip one hand between your hips and his to palm at him, earning an appreciative hiss. You rub at him over the front of his briefs, teasing, then dip your touch beneath his waistband.

His cock hangs heavy between his legs, but he’s not quite hard yet, maybe from the cold, so you take him in your hand and start to pump. For fear of too much dry friction you try to go slow, and he groans into your mouth as you twist your wrist a little to circle your thumb over his frenulum.

He buries his face in your neck, and you can feel the heat of his embarrassment bloom against your skin. “Sorry— gimme a second.”

Tilting your head, you press a kiss to his temple. “Don’t apologize. D’you wanna try laying down?”

When he nods, you release your grip on him so he can sink down onto the bed, crawling backwards up to the pillows. Knelt down on the mattress, you settle in the space he makes for you, thighs spread and knees tipped open, and you push his briefs down enough to free all of him.

You hook your thumb and index finger under the head of his dick to pull it flush against his stomach, allowing you better access to drag your tongue in little kitten licks up his shaft. Your other hand moves to massage gently at his balls as you take his tip into your mouth and let it bulge against your cheek, let him slip against the soft wall there to make saliva pool on your tongue, sloppy on purpose.

It’s still not working, not really, and when your gaze flits up to him again, Jimin’s face is pulled into a grimace. Heat rushes up your neck, and you pull your mouth off him and immediately right yourself. You shift backwards a little on your knees as your pulse starts to race. Does he not want this? Did you misread some sign, or push him too far?

Jimin must be able to read the look in your eyes, because he groans as he presses his face into his hands. “It’s not you. Think I drank too much, I don’t— i-it feels good, I—it just—”

You’re not exactly sober yourself. The receding white noise of panic makes it hard to think, hard to know what to say. “I-it’s okay. It’s okay.”

“I just—” he tries again. “I really want to do this, I don’t know why— it’s fucking embarrassing.” The blankets muffle the sound as his palms smack flat against the bed on either side of him in clear frustration. You move out from between his legs, still trying to catch up, and a muscle in his jaw jumps as he pulls his boxer-briefs back over himself.

“Jimin,” you murmur. The bed creaks when you shift to lay next to him, to tuck into his side, and you reach up to run a hand through his hair, a little sticky with the product holding it in place. An anxious, thrumming quiet settles over both of you as his eyes flutter closed.

The words finally come to you in the silence; you can only hope they’ll reach him. “I had so much fun with you tonight. That doesn’t go away.” The crease between his brows softens a little, so you keep talking. “It’s not your only chance, okay? I’m not leaving. I’m staying right here.” Your free hand slips into his on the bed next to you. “And I want you with me.”

He sniffs a little, so quiet you nearly miss it, then turns in towards you. Your noses bump together and your mouth turns up at the corners as you continue. “It’s late, and I… can’t promise there isn’t more ass-eating waiting for you at home. Do you want to sleep here?”

Jimin’s eyes blink open, glassy, and then he nods.

“Come on,” you say softly, sitting up and tugging on your still-joined hands. “How about we shower?”

In the bathroom, you run the water scalding hot, and when you both step in you nudge Jimin forward to stand under it first, then press against him from behind. Your hands wrap around his waist to slide over his stomach as you tilt up to reach his ear when you speak. “This okay?”

He nods, hums a little, and you move your hands up over the whole of his body. Hard lines and soft curves, a work of art you know so well, you can see it when you close your eyes as you map his skin with your fingertips. You nuzzle into the place where his neck and shoulder meet, then press a kiss there. “I’m right here,” you say again, not even sure if he hears you.

But his head turns, and you feel one of his hands slide over yours on his chest. “Will you wash my hair?” he asks softly, and you tip forward to bring your mouth to his, convinced you’d do anything he asked of you.

It’s intimate, the way you take your time running shampoo and then conditioner through his silky pink strands, dragging your nails over his scalp and applying gentle pressure that makes him sigh prettily in response. Jimin steps further under the showerhead both times to rinse the product out, and if a few tears slip down his cheeks, they’re lost to the spray of the water where you can’t tell the difference.

But he does manage the ghost of a smile when you reach to grab your washcloth and he gets there first. “Your turn.”

Once your body and then his are scrubbed and rinsed clean, you shut the water off and grab thick, fluffy towels that you dry off and wrap up in. In the dim light of your room, you pull on an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts, then dig out a pair of sweatpants from your dresser. They’re fairly baggy on you, but they fit Jimin perfectly, and the image of him in something of yours makes your heart squeeze tight in your chest.

You run two glasses under the kitchen tap that you set out to ward off any potential hangovers, and you even manage to find a spare toothbrush for him to use. When he emerges from the bathroom again, still absentmindedly toweling his damp hair, you’re sitting on the bed with your feet tucked under you.

“Do you want to watch something?” you offer gently.

He shakes his head as he stifles a yawn. “‘Mtired. Think I just wanna sleep.”

You pat the bedspread next to you, an invitation. “Then let’s sleep.”

Under the covers, you curl up together, soft and warm from the shower, scented lavender and mint from your body wash and toothpaste. Jimin’s legs tangle with yours, an arm wrapping over your waist, and you press your cheek against the hard plane of his chest with a small sigh.

You listen as his breathing slows, each inhale a little further apart from the last, to the point where you think he’s fallen asleep. You feel yourself start to follow after him, and the last thing you hear before you’re dragged all the way down is Jimin inhaling deep, then mumbling softly into your hair. “Thank you. For everything.”

~*~

Light streams in between the cracks of the window blinds, painting warm shapes over your eyelids that gently wake you. You sigh and stretch as you slowly come all the way up from dreaming, your eyes still heavy-lidded. When you roll over with a soft grunt, you find Jimin fast asleep there, his face smushed into the pillow, one arm slung lazily over you.

The corner of your mouth pulls up, and you have to fight the urge to dot kisses all over his face, deciding to let him sleep instead. It takes some maneuvering, but you manage to roll out from under his arm without waking him and slip quietly out of bed, easing the bedroom door closed behind you.

It’s early, and the apartment is still, washed in morning gleam and the gentle hum of New York City traffic on the streets outside.

You stumble into the kitchen with a stifled yawn, swinging open the fridge and leaning down to retrieve a pack of bacon and the half-empty carton of eggs. Humming quietly to yourself, you dig a pan out and set it on the stove to heat.

Arms slide around your waist, making you jump a little before you melt back as Jimin nuzzles into the crook of your neck. You can feel his body through your t-shirt, still warm from sleep and bedsheets he must’ve only just crawled out from under.

Not quite graceful, you turn in his arms and loop yours around his neck to seek a kiss. “Good morning,” you murmur, your voice hoarse on your first spoken words of the day. “How are you feeling?”

Jimin’s mouth is still slurred from waking up when he answers. “‘Mgood. You look good.” His gaze roams down your body and back up, as if to take in your oversized shirt, your bare legs, your hair still messy from sleep. “So cute like this.”

You scrunch your nose slightly as you smile up at him. “Want breakfast?”

A heat starts to pool between your legs as his hands slide further down your back. He pushes your shirt up so he can grip your ass, the thin fabric of your underwear the only thing separating his skin from yours.

“In a bit.”

You can’t help but squeak when, in one swift move, he bends his knees and lifts you off the ground. Impulsively, your legs spread to wrap over his hips, thighs squeezing tight to hold on, and your arms cling around his neck as laughter flutters in your chest. Before you can act on the urge to bury your face in his shoulder, his mouth finds yours again, and the way he kisses you, hungry and deep, makes nothing else in the world matter.

He carries you back to bed, nudging open the door he didn’t quite close all the way with his shoulder, then using a foot to push it shut again. Your muscles unclench when he sits down with you in his lap, and you unwrap your legs from around him, your knees sinking soft into the bed.

You can’t quite shake the thoughts of the night before. “Jimin,” you start, “we don’t have to do this if you don’t—”

“Want to,” his voice is low, ragged edges from sleep. “Doing it ‘cause I want to. I want you. Do you want me?”

You nod, leaning back to look at him, your arms still twined over his neck. “More than anything.”

There’s no rush this time as he shifts backwards up the bed and you crawl over him to settle into his lap again. No tension that’s been building all night, no alcohol buzzing in your systems, no urgency. Just your bodies, half-dressed in sleep clothes, intertwining like they were made to fit together.

Your kisses are sweet and unhurried as Jimin’s hands slip beneath your oversized t-shirt, delicate fingers tracing up your waist. He cups your breasts in his palms, squeezing gently as he licks into your mouth. When he rolls a nipple between his fingers, your breath hitches, sparks of arousal shooting all the way down to your toes. A weight blossoms in your core as you reach for the hem of your shirt to pull it over your head, and you shiver a little in the morning air.

“Beautiful,” Jimin says quietly, reverently, and you take his face in your hands.

“You are too,” you murmur, your eyes searching his. “So beautiful.” Your hands slip down his body as he kisses you again, your fingertips outlining the contours of his chest, gently brushing over his nipples to make him groan into your mouth.

Jimin’s hands come to rest at the curve of your hips as your mouths move together, where he teases his touch under the band of your boyshorts. He pulls back just far enough to ask, “Can I take these off?” and you nod.

You shimmy the thin fabric down your thighs, dropping onto your ass with a laugh so he can tug them the rest of the way off, one ankle at a time. As you sit up on your knees again, his hands come to grip your thighs, and he shifts lower on the bed until he’s laying flat on his back next to you.

“Wanna eat you out,” he murmurs softly.

“Yeah?” You bite down on a small smile.

He hums. “Can I— will you please, uh… sit on my face?”

You can’t help but giggle. No one has ever asked so politely. “Yeah, okay.”

It’s slow, languid, the way his full lips close delicately around your clit when you settle over him, how he alternates with lazy passes of his tongue, not unlike the way he kisses you. The pleasure pulls your spine arched and your head tips back, palms pressing flat to the bed beneath you.

“Jimin,” you gasp, “baby, feels so fucking good.”

His tongue is heavy as it drags down your folds, thick when he sinks it into your cunt to taste the slick arousal that pours out of you and drips down his chin. Your hips rock into his mouth, his nose inadvertently bumping against your clit as he licks you like he doesn’t want to waste a drop. Your walls cling tight, crammed up full of him.

With a slurp and a gasp for breath, he withdraws, his tongue made hot from being buried inside of you, trailing wet warmth as he licks back up your pussy to lap at your clit again. Your arms threaten to give out when he sucks the sensitive bud into his mouth, lips pulsing an insistent rhythm that makes you moan and writhe above him.

“Jimin, Jimin.” The pleasure is decadent, thick, wine and honey, made sweeter by the beautiful boy pressed between your thighs. Emotion bubbles up inside of you to twist with your pleasure, and you tighten a hand in his rose-blush hair as you moan again, nearly a sob this time, a dam breaking.

Jimin hums against you, fingertips digging into the soft skin of your thighs, like he can tell you’re at the edge without you having to say a word, and it’s enough to send you tumbling over it.

“Oh fuck baby, yes, fuck.” Your toes curl tight over the bedsheets as your pussy flutters, throbs, gushes. Your vision whites out as you come hard enough to make your thighs shake, hard enough that your stomach muscles tremble with the effort of holding you up. Jimin’s mouth works you through it, tongue stroking flat and slow to coax pulse after pulse out of you, until everything melts into shaky aftershocks and your thighs clench around him, over-sensitive.

He pulls back when you start to squirm, lips smacking wetly on a final kiss to your pussy, and heat flushes your face at the sound of it. Your limbs feel heavy as lead as you slip off from on top of him and collapse down onto the mattress with a floaty sigh, your pulse still thudding brightly in your ears.

You’re only distantly aware of the way the bed shifts as Jimin slides down next to you. You follow his touch on instinct, turning into him when he pulls you close and presses a kiss to your hairline. Heartbeat still slamming in your chest, mind hazy with morning orgasm glow, you hum contentedly as your eyes flutter open to find him palming at a thick bulge tenting his– well, your sweatpants.

“Looks like it’s cooperating today.” Jimin’s voice is equal parts relieved and embarrassed.

With a lazy smile, you hook a finger in his waistband, tugging playfully. “What do you want to do about it?”

He laughs hoarsely. “I would love to finally fuck you, if you’ll have me.”

“I don’t want anybody else.” The thought spills out before you can worry if it’s too soon to say it, but he just smiles and leans in to kiss you.

At Jimin’s guidance, you lay back against the pillows, a couple of which he grabs to slot under your hips. “There’s condoms in the nightstand,” you say softly, and anticipation thrums in your chest, twinning with your still-racing pulse as you watch him retrieve one, then step out of his sweatpants to roll it on.

He climbs back onto the bed to hover over you, and your breaths come shallow into each other’s mouths. You kiss quietly at the precipice of this moment, like you’re afraid it might not be real, a dream you could wake up from at any second.

“Thank you.” Jimin’s low voice sends a ripple through you. “For waiting for me.”

You press a hand to his cheek, your eyes trying to take all of him in at once. “It wasn’t waiting, Jimin. Really. I’ve loved every second with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

“I’m so glad I met you,” he murmurs.

The head of his cock teases your entrance, and you spread your thighs wider, pulling your legs up towards your chest. Still sensitive from your first orgasm, you can’t bite back the moan that spills out of you as he sinks into your tight heat with a cock thick enough to split you open. “Fuck, Jimin.”

There’s a pause when he’s pressed all the way in, his body covering yours, your hands clutching at the broad sweep of his back. He exhales a soft, disbelieving laugh as he looks down to see himself buried in you to the hilt. “God, you’re so tight. Does it hurt?”

You shake your head— you’re so soaked from his tongue and your arousal that it all just feels like melting, a pulsating heat between your legs. When he presses another kiss to your lips, he circles his hips, and you both groan at the feeling.

Jimin’s hands grip your thighs as he shifts and starts to move, starts fucking into you with long, slow strokes that make your pussy flutter, as if to urge him in deeper.

“It’s good?” he checks in again, voice tight, clearly holding himself back.

“So good, baby,” you breathe, “please fuck me.” A smirk flashes over his mouth at your manners, so polite when you ask to take it, and then he snaps his hips into you and you keen. “Fuck, please, just like that.”

He does it again and again, hands pressing down on your thighs to keep you folded up under him as he fucks you. The angle is just right for the thick head of his cock to pound into your g-spot with every stroke, and your back arches as your walls grip tight to him.

Jimin echoes your gasps with his own, swearing under his breath as you squeeze around him. He’s thrusting deep-deep now, and your hips shove up towards him for all of it, your thighs trembling as you take every inch. You’re dripping down his length every time he pulls back, wet enough to soak the sheets beneath you.

The pleasure, the pressure as he fills you up is so overwhelming that your hands reach, clinging to anything they can find. A pillow, the bedsheets, the flexing muscles in his forearms. Your moans come unabashedly now, underscored by the slap of skin on skin, the thud of the bedframe knocking into the wall. “Jimin, Jimin, baby.”

“Yeah,” he pants, choked up like he’s close. “Love it when you say my name.”

You sit up a little, folded legs shifting to wrap over his hips, and your hands come to his face to pull his mouth down to yours. His movements stutter as you kiss him breathlessly, and the brush of your tongue over his must be just enough to make him come undone. With a grunt of effort, he thrusts hard into you one final time, and his shoulders shake as he fills up the condom.

You kiss him again and again, your lips pulled into a smile against his as you tangle a hand in his hair, made messy from sleep and sex. Jimin’s body weighs heavy on top of yours as he drops his head to your shoulder, breath coming in short heat-bursts over your collarbone.

“Fuck. Been a minute.” He presses a kiss there, another to your neck, a third to your jaw. “Do you want to keep going?”

Your eyes widen at the question. “I— can you?”

A soft flush paints color in his cheeks, and he’s suddenly a little shy. “Yeah, I can. If you want. Or we can stop.”

You wrap your arms over his shoulders, your noses bumping. “I kinda felt like I was getting close again.”

He smiles. “Then let me finish what I started.” There’s a bit of shuffling as he moves to the edge of the bed to remove and tie up the used condom, then reaches for the box to retrieve another.

As he tears open the foil and rolls it on, you watch and consider all of him. This body that you know from every angle, that you’ve studied like a textbook, that holds the boy who stepped onto the subway and changed your life and made it better. This body, made to be adored, to be respected and cherished and filled up with love. This body, chosen to be shared with you, to be held by you, to be near you.

That’s all you want, you realize as he rolls over, brown eyes blinking sweetly at you. This body, and all that it holds: the darkness and the light, the pain and the beauty, the soul that so perfectly fits with yours.

“Turn over for me?” he asks softly. “I want to spoon.”

This round is easier, slower, your bodies molding together, shaky from effort and sensitivity. You twist over your shoulder, tipping your head up for a kiss that turns into a shared gasp as he presses into you again. Your walls are swollen enough to be tender, and the stretch of him, the way he fills you up entirely, makes your eyes roll back.

As he starts to grind his hips into you, his hand snakes down between your thighs before you even have to ask. You hook a leg over his to allow him better access and gasp when his cock slides even deeper into you from the new angle.

“So good,” you manage as two of his fingers work circles into your clit, matching the same slow-stroke pace. His tongue slips into your mouth, and with his cock rubbing insistently against your front wall, it doesn’t take much. Pleasure overwhelms you in a hot rush as he so easily pulls you apart again.

“Jimin.” Your voice is nearly a whisper, your walls starting to pulse. Your head tips back against his shoulder as he fucks and rubs you through it, his hums of encouragement buzzing through your body, your hips shuddering. “Baby, oh god.”

Jimin’s strokes start to falter, and then he goes still, your cunt aftershock-fluttering around him as he comes again, groaning your name.

A brush of daylight through the blinds makes your eyes heavy, and they drop closed as you lean into him and breathe through the comedown. You don’t know how long you lay there like that until his kisses pull you back earthside, dotting over your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw. You tilt your head up and he finally finds your lips again.

With a deep grunt of post-sex effort, he rolls over, leaning off the edge of the bed to deal with the second condom. A shiver dots up your spine at the loss of his body next to yours, and you tuck into his side when he lays down again, throwing an arm over his chest to better nuzzle into the crook of his neck. The heat of his palm makes you sigh as his hand rubs gentle circles against your back.

Something cracks open inside of you, warm like his touch, like the sunlight bleeding through the window. You can feel the rapid pace of his heartbeat under your hand, and it’s everything, all of him, that makes the words rise up in your throat, undeniable.

“Jimin,” you breathe, “I l—”

A loud bang on your bedroom door makes you flinch, and you roll over with a grimace as Yoongi shouts from the other side. “If you’re finished, just so you know, you left a fucking pan on the stove. Could’ve burnt the house down while you were in there deflowering each other.”

Your jaw drops open and Jimin’s eyes go wide, and you collapse against each other in a silent rush of laughter. You’re surprised when Yoongi’s voice comes back, a little softer this time. “Also I brought some bagels back from work. If you want any, better hurry before Namjoonie eats them all.”

The charged moment has passed, and the words sink back down inside of you. Making a promise to tell him soon, you wrap yourself tighter around Jimin’s side with a smile. “What do you think?”

He nods thoughtfully. “I’ll never say no to a bagel.”

“Come on then,” you murmur, tilting up for a final hit of affection. The kiss he leaves on your lips makes your heartbeat flutter, like the shudder of a subway car.

#jimin smut #jimin fluff #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic

[stargirlfics]

ngl i need a little frank castle moment… i don’t remember what i was doing but i thought for a moment and was like “*sighs longingly* the punisher… i want him to punish me” and then i may or may not have thought of jack hammering… cuz he did construction… no other reason 🤭

Listen that’s so valid because the way I would let Mr. Punisher jack hammer this pussy is wild and I totally get it 😌

He knows his way around the tools and it makes my brain go fuzzy thinking about how strong he is you know like how capable he is of fixing things but also destroying things (he’s killed people why is that hot omg) but also the fact that all that would give him the perfect grip strength, the stamina, the Punisher level dedication to fucking you into the mattress until your mind is just floating and your mouth is doing nothing but moaning and drooling!!!!

You can’t tell me that every drop of those hips of his, grinding against you wouldn’t be the exact kind of bruising, struggling to breathe and find words type of punishment he would give and I simply want to poke the bear here yes!

Ugh I miss him! Truly a crime sitting here thinking about his chain swinging in your face while he leans in and coos at you that he’s just giving you what you asked for, sweetheart. You’ll be okay cause you’re in Frank’s hands and that’s all you gotta know to let him do as he pleases 🥵

#never beating the being into men who have a construction background allegations i fear #frank castle smut #the punisher smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle x black reader #the punisher x reader #frank castle headcanons

[evan4ever]

Omg I’m so happy that this fandom is still alive! And it looks like we’re still thirsty af too lol. Would you ever consider doing a NSFW alphabet for Evan? So curious about ALL your thoughts on that.

NSFW Alphabet *

Evan Peters edition

Keep in mind peeps that this is completely opinion based, how I personally think or feel it would be for Evan!!

*

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Oh Evan takes aftercare very seriously. He would absolutely help you clean up, get a shower or bath ready if you wanted, have water ready for you to drink and so on. He would be the sweetest and take care of you before himself.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of their partner’s)

I think Evan would be really into the neck/collarbone/shoulder area, touching feeling and kissing those areas on you every chance he could.

C = Cum (where they like to cum)

Evan would probably be an “in the condom only” kind of guy to prevent any accidents and to make sure you wouldn’t have to take a plan B pill or worry about anything that might be hard on your body. He’d def put your health over his wants, sweet boy 🥹 (but we all would prefer him to cum all over our bodies I mean let’s bffr)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I think Evan would think that the fact he masturbates is a dirty secret of his 🤭

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think he’d be pretty experienced in basic missionary/doggy/cowgirl style sex, I’m not all that sure how experienced he’d be in the other positions. He’d always be willing to try a new position if you wanted to though!

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

100% believe Evan is a missionary kind of guy. I think he loves the closeness it entails and the passion it brings out in both of you. Like I said before, he’s happy to try any positions your comfortable with, but his favorite would be missionary IMO 🥰

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’d be pretty goofy, I think sex with Evan would include a lot of laughter and giggling. He knows how and when to be serious, but he’s a silly guy through and through and he’d need a silly girl to make things fun from time to time.

H = Hair (do they like hair pulling?)

I think Evan would only pull your hair if he was either stressed/angry (like angry rough sex), or if he knew you liked it which then he’d try to do it more often. I don’t think it’s something he’d do out of the blue, he’d definitely make sure you were okay/liked it first or let you initiate that you wanted him to. And I also think he’d get extremely turned on any time you tugged his hair, even before sex 🥵

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

I think he’s a missionary kinda guy for the mere fact that it’s most intimate, so he’d definitely know how to be intimate when the time was right.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I definitely think he masturbates but (as I said it would be a dirty secret in his eyes) I think he has to be pretty sexually frustrated or extremely turned on and you not there to relieve him for him to do it himself. I think he’s pretty shy about the fact he jacks off from time to time (so so cute omg)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I think he’d slightly be into biting/hickeys AS LONG as they weren’t in noticeable places and I think he’d give them to you more than he’d let you to him due to his job. But he’d be a collarbone/shoulder blade biter 😮‍💨

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His or your bed. He’d want to have sex with you in a place he was comfortable in, you were comfortable in, and where he knew that no one would interrupt. I think on occasion, if y’all were horny enough, he’d fuck you on the couch or counter 😋

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

I think if you wore the spaghetti strap kind of tank top/dress that exposed his favorite parts of you, it would be an instant turn on for him. You’d wear more revealing clothes just to tease him. Or if he could see your nipples through your shirt, that’s a typical guy thing. And tugging on his hair/biting his lip during kisses!

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Hurt you. I believe Evan would absolutely refuse to do anything that might hurt you. The extent of his rough sex would be hair pulling, a smack on the ass here and there, his love bites, and possibly a little bit of choking. Even with your O.K. and I even think that if you begged him to (say whip or slap you) I don’t think he’d be able to. He doesn’t like the thought of physically hurting you.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

I think he’s a little of both, more so for foreplay and to help get you stimulated down there and to get him hard and ready for you. He’d definitely love your hands or mouth around him, but he would never expect it. He’s more of “get to the main part” kind of guy!

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think it would entirely depend on the mood and type of sex and what both ends want. Sometimes he’d be fast and rough, but I think most times he’d really enjoy going slow and being as sensual and intimate as possible, taking in and feeling every part of your body for as long as he and you could last.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

With his busier schedule, Evan would be down for quickies. Sometimes that’s all you guys would have time for for a couple weeks so he’d never deny one and neither would you (bathroom quickies at work would be his thing)

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nope. I don’t think he’s a risk taker. I think he’s pretty happy with staying in his comfort zone BUT I think if you wanted to try something new and it didn’t entail hurting you, he’d be down to try it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Honestly I think Evan would be a one-round kinda guy but only because he’d usually take it slow and make love to you for a long while (especially when you haven’t seen each other in days/weeks). But the times you’re together often, I think he’d go a few rounds if you were up for it (and who wouldn’t be?)

T = Toys (do they use toys?)

Not on himself but he’s be happy to use toys on you. He’d do anything to make you feel even better than before. Toys are friendly tools not enemies!!!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

I don’t think he’d be a huge teaser but I think he’d get off on being teased himself 🤩 it’d turn him on even more and make for even better sex.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Quiet, soft moans or grunts to start out with, growing louder as he’d get closer to his climax. He definitely cusses under his breath 🥹

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Evan would keep his mouth on yours, tongues colliding as much as he possibly could during sex. He’d love the added passion and intimacy and the moaning into each others mouths would bring you both to your climax faster because it’s just so fckn hot

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think he’s average, a good 6 inches 😋

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Normal, I think with his job he could get stressed out easily and tired often which would lower anyone’s sex drive but I think with the right person, he’d always manage to get it back up.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

I don’t think he’d fall asleep before you often, maybe only when he was super tired or exhausted from work but he’d definitely mention it before sex because he wouldn’t want to ever hurt your feelings or make you feel unimportant. Usually he’d wait and fall asleep when you do or even after you do, tracing up and down your back or holding you close 😌😴

#evan peters #evan peters characters #evan peters imagine #evan peters supremacy #evan peters x reader #kai anderson #evan peters smut #kit walker #kit walker imagine #kit walker x reader #evan peters questions #evan peters ships #evan peters instagram #evan peters fic #evan peters cute #evan peters rares #evan peters fanfic #evan peters angst #kai anderson smut #kit walker smut #Evan peters alphabet

[lipglossanon]

The anon who sent the long puppy boy Leon blurb is back and brain rotting.

Imagine bringing Leon back to the shelter for a visit. You make sure to stress to him that you aren’t returning him, that he’s still your good boy, that you’re only bringing him to visit the other hybrids that he misses. You make sure to have his collar on him, maybe a little tighter than usual so he can feel the weight of it on him, grounding him through it all that he’s still yours.

Once leon knows that he’s not going back permanently, just to visit, he’s excited! He wants to help the other puppies train so they can be good boys, wants to brag that his owner is so sweet and nice and lets him scent her by hugging her! But more importantly, he wants to talk to the dog men about how to help his puppy cock. See, Leon has had boners before you, but now, it feels like every time you make his tail wag, he’s leaking cum into his pants. You’re gonna notice the amount of laundry soon, and Leon is worried you’ll actually return him if you find out just what his puppy cock is doing. So he goes to the older dog men, and asks how to make him stop leaking cum every where. The older dog tease him for his over excited puppy cock, but they see how anxious he is about this and tell him there is something he can wear that’ll stop his puppy cock from getting hard, which should stop him from cumming every where every time you so much as look at him. He gets one from the shelter (after begging the volunteer to not say anything to you, and he’s making himself sick at the thought of you finding out so the volunteer has to agree).

He puts it on, and though it feels wrong to not have his puppy cock out and ready to hump things the second you so much as look his way, he’s hopeful that this will stop his leaking. And it does! Kinda… he’s not getting hard (though he wants to, he can feel his dick wanting to swell, the knot begging to form for you) but he’s still cumming whenever he gets too excited or close to you. Actually, it might even be making him worse because he’s more sensitive now, and he’s found himself trying to hump even when in his device. His puppy cock is so sensitive and filled with even more cum because of the sensitivity. But he doesn’t want to risk not wearing it when you’re home because then you’ll find out and you’ll hate him!!

Finally, one day you come home to see puppy boy Leon humping your pillow with the cage still on. Every other hump has cum leaking from his puppy cock, yet he still keeps going. You coo and call for your puppy to tell you what’s happening, and he does, even as he keeps cumming because your near him with his puppy cock exposed. So you tell him he doesn’t have to be caged up, he can use his puppy cock and fill you will all the cum he’s been wasting and the words make him cum for like 8 minutes straight, the largest load you’ve ever seen, and he’s still in the cage. Getting him out of the cage and inside you, it’s like you bought a fucking machine because even when he’s cumming, he just keeps fucking into you nonstop, and your tummy is swelling a bit from being so filled with cum and he’s not stopping, mind completely broken and all he knows is to hump and cum as he whimpers and whines.

(I tried to not add any piss stuff this time around, even though I love the idea of subby little puppy boys not being able to control what leaks out of their dicks because they’re too dumb and horny to control themselves, just in case some people dislike that stuff)

Anon!!! 🫣

I love your blurbs!! And send whatever you want into my inbox (within reason, I don’t legally need to know if you’ve killed a man 🤭). So if you like piss, then add it to your thoughts no sense in censoring yourself hehe

But anon, holy moly! 🥵😵‍💫🫠🫠

A cock cage for little puppy Leon cause he just can’t help himself???? 💀 🤤 and he keeps going and going? 😮‍💨 damn anon got me thinking silly thoughts now 🥴

I’m serious about you writing your own fics 👀 I think you’d do great 😌 but I’m more than happy for you to keep swinging by instead 🤭

#ask box #anon #puppy anon #lipglossanon #lipglossanswers #puppy!leon s kennedy

[beskarandblasters]

Hi everyone!! Erin and I compiled all the fics that were submitted into one big list and split the reading! So if you don’t see your fic here check out @perotovar’s post that will be coming soon! Also, for any multi chapter fics that were submitted we only read the first chapters for them! Thank you to everyone who submitted fics for this and made this celebration such a hit! If you’d like to see more events like this please let either Erin or myself know!

@trulybetty Strings

What a strong start!! The part where he was dealing with his nightmare in his sleep was so heartbreaking. And the reader contemplating comforting him or respecting the boundaries of their relationship and minding her business was a struggle you really felt.

@pascalispretty Leading Blindly

Oh man love me some shy, submissive Din 🥵 And Canto Bight is the perfect place to put a brothel in Star Wars!!!

@chronically-ghosted Recovery Road

Wow, what a beautiful depiction of struggling with addiction and anxiety. As someone who suffers from anxiety myself (as I’m sure a lot of you guys do too!), I found myself really emphasizing with Dieter. Precious lil guy 🥺

@theywhowriteandknowthings Catch Me If You Can

This fic is such a good capture capture of the chase 🤌 The last chapter was posted as a part of Kinktober but if you want to find out just how Din and the Reader got there, read this!!! It’s going to take place on several Star Wars planets and as a Star Wars nerd that makes my heart happy

@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin The Clink

💳💳PRISON GUARD JAVI💳💳 What more do I need to say?!?!? No but fr this is not only extremely hot but also very very well done. Prison Guard Javi wasn’t something I knew I needed until Ang put it out 💅

@jenna-ortega Vertigo

The premise of this is so scandalous 🤭 I’m a sucker for infidelity fics for some reason so you know this just has a hold on me!!! And I love the warning “unpleasant!Joel” 🥵💀😭

@milla-frenchy Smack My Bitch Up

I’m a slut for rough sex and even though I’m not personally into anal I still really enjoyed this! A great take on Raider!Joel and Raider!Tommy 👀

@katiexpunk Reporting For Duty

THE PREMISE I’M SCREAMING and the smut was soooooo fucking hot. I love Air Marshal Peña!!! Something about joining the Mile High Club is just 🥵🥵

@dark-scape The Vagabond Gladiator

This is by far the most interesting and unique Joel AU I’ve ever seen. The world building in this is just great!!!

@novemberrain-writes Daggers to Dust

A MANDALORIAN WESTERN AU ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!! I enjoyed this so much omfg!!!

@decembermidnight Ner Mircet'ad

First of all, two words: GLOVE KINK!! Love the Mando’a title, love dom!Din. Seriously what is there not to love about this!!

@soft-persephone Scattered Promises

“My name is Din, he whispered lowly in her face, and if I made a promise to never leave your side, I intend to keep it.” Oh my god!!! I love Din and the MC’s dynamic so much!!!

@nothoughtsjustmeds Tip Your Server

NOT THEM LOSING THE OSCAR 😭😭 I love wife!reader fics and this was seriously so sweet and hot at the same time!!

@scarerjh Love Machine

Dieter is so sweet and devoted in this!!! So fluffy and sweet it makes my heart explode!!!

@grogusmum Conversations with Dead People

This was so sad and impactful!! I just wanted them to get back together so bad!!!!

@marisferasiop Paklalat

This was such a treat, literally the group sex/polyamorous relationship of my DREAMS 😍😍

@idolatrybarbie The World Tipped On Its Side

(Chapter 1) I really love the characterization of the reader in this. Frankie as a stunt pilot is a really cool idea for him. And the reader is disabled, which is really refreshing to see that being represented here in this community🤍

@romana-after-dark Blessed Be The Fruit

If you like the Handmaid’s Tale and TLOU then boy do I have the fic for you!! The first chapter was so interesting and the world building was insane!! I’ve never watched or read Handmaid’s Tale and I was easily able to fall into this universe!

@ladamedusoif Visiting

One of the most well thought out Mr. Ben fics I’ve ever seen!! I love the ofc and I love that her age is relatively close to Ben’s!!

@chaithetics A Cinematic Lover

Dieter having a crush is so fucking cute!!! And I love chronic illness/pain representation here 🥺🤍

@aurorawritestoescape The Helping Hand

I love somnophilia!! This was so hot and I love the idea that Joel’s loud snoring keeps you from falling asleep at night 😭💀

@pimosworld Tango

Love the premise, loooove the TF boys being protective and of course, I love dom!Frankie + the aftercare 🥹

@beecastle Chocolate Cake

This was so cute!!! I love first meeting fics and there’s something so sweet and so normal about it happening at a grocery store! And of course I love dad!Frankie!!

@frenchiereading The Parents That Are Left

I don’t really have much to say about this besides the fact that the writing is beautiful. And that this is such an interesting premise!!!

@ohforficsake You Brought Me Poison Flowers

Fourth of July in Jackson?!?!?! Sign me UP!!! I love the title of the series. I love the first chapter title. I love the OFC! There’s so much to love about this!!

@healmydesires I Wanna Hear You Say My Name

I loved this so much!! I don’t typically read period sec fics but wow!! I started my period the day before I read this and now I have a whole new appreciation for fics like this!! The smut was so hot and I loved the dynamic between Joel and the reader!

@604to647 Lingerie

I have never read a modern AU for Din before and I have to say, this was so interesting and hot at the same time!!

#dieter bravo fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #frankie morales fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #ezra prospect fanfiction

[hotchnerobsessed]

Go It Alone - Part 4

Virgin!Fem!Reader x Hotch | Things with Aaron grow even stronger with the team’s discovery of your relationship. You finally find yourself able to take the next step.

Warnings: 🤭+🥵+😰 SO MUCH FLUFF!! Reader has a nightmare. Gentle and romantic smut [Soft!Hotch just wants to take care of you your first time (fem!receiving oral, fingering, kind of a hand job(?), protected sex, praise kink)].

Word Count: 14,456

PREVIOUS / NEXT

Series Masterlist / Main Masterlist

Just a heads up, the story starts with Reader waking from a nightmare!

**********

You woke with a jolt, heart pounding in your chest. Slightly disoriented, you attempted to take in your surroundings, and your voice cracked as you spoke, “Aaron?!”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay..” you heard his calming voice from behind you. He’d stood from his desk a few seconds earlier when he’d heard you mumbling under your breath. Crouching down beside you, he reached his arms out to you, “it’s okay, I’m right here.”

As you sat up, his suit jacket slid off your shoulder, and you immediately reached for him, pulling him into your embrace. Nuzzling your head into his neck, you breathed in the familiar scent of him as you attempted to calm your racing heart.

Once he registered that your breathing was beginning to slow, he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes. With one hand holding yours, he rested the other against the side of your face, his thumb gently caressing your cheek as he spoke, “tell me what happened.”

Your eyes searched his face wildly as it all came rushing back. “I was.. there.. in that apartment..” as you spoke between deep breaths, your eyes focused on the wall behind him. “He was there..” you felt his grip on your hand tighten, “but you and Morgan weren’t..” Your eyes finally connected with his, and you saw him exhale deep as a single tear escaped the corner of your eye.

Brushing the tear away, he slid his hand farther around to the back of your head, pulling you into his chest once again. As his fingers slowly carded through your hair, he whispered, “I’m so sorry. But I’m here now.” He felt you nod your head gently. “I’m right here. You’re safe.”

You sat there for a short while, just holding each other, as the images in your mind slowly faded. You were beyond thankful to have Aaron to lean on. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to thank him enough for the care and support he was showing you. But that only helped you. What about the victims? You knew there was only so much you could do, there were just some people you couldn’t save, but it broke your heart nonetheless.

Breathing deep a few more times, you felt the fear in your chest quickly shift to anger, “I just..” you stuttered, “people like him are the worst of the worst..” you trailed off, pulling back from his embrace. “There’s always something we can go off of. Always an explanation. Always a pattern to follow.” Aaron could feel your rage beginning to bubble up under the surface, because he felt it, too. “But he just.. he hurts people just for the sake of hurting people. No rhyme or reason..” Your jaw clenched as you breathed in deep through your nose, attempting to keep yourself calm.

Finally looking into Aaron’s eyes, you were met with a look of understanding. Of course he understood; you knew he did. With both of his hands now on either side of your arms, he was running his palms along the soft material of your blouse, doing anything he could to try and comfort you. Thankfully it worked, as you closed your eyes and breathed in deep, finally feeling your body relax. Releasing the air from your lungs slowly, you spoke just above a whisper, “I’m sorry, I.. I don’t usually..”

“No,” he cut you off, “please don’t apologize.. We all get them.”

Looking into his eyes once more, you gently nodded your head, before leaning forward and connecting your lips to his tenderly. Whispering a soft, “thank you,” against his lips brought a smile to his.

Holding him close, your hands trailing along his back, your mind was finally clear of the fog you’d woken up to. That’s when you noticed he wasn’t wearing his suit jacket anymore, your palms registering the soft material of the button down shirt he was wearing. It wouldn’t typically be something you thought much of, but you didn’t see it hanging on the coat rack just inside the door where he usually left it.

As you moved to sit up properly, sliding your legs over the front of the couch, that’s when you felt it in your lap. Looking down at the crumpled material, you slowly lifted your gaze to meet his as you spoke quietly, “you.. you gave me your jacket?”

A slight blush crept onto his face, “I wanted you to be comfortable.” He reached his hand up, tucking a few stray hairs behind your ear, as he took note of the look on your face. Through a soft smile, he questioned, “another first?”

You smiled back at him, your emotions working in overdrive, as tears of joy tickled the back of your eyes. Nodding your head lightly, you leaned forward and gently pressed your lips to his once more.

But it didn’t take long for your anxious mind to cut in, insisting that you were a burden, that he would be better off with someone more experienced. All these ‘firsts’ must be tedious and annoying for someone who’s already been through it all. But you simply breathed deep, pushing all of those worries aside; for now.

Breaking the silence, he informed you, “I’m just finishing up here. Give me another 10 minutes and we’ll head home?”

You knew he meant your apartment, because that’s where he’d agreed to spend the evening before Strauss interrupted your plans. But the way he said “home” so nonchalantly made you feel like that tiny piece your heart that had been missing for too long, had finally fallen into place.

“Okay,” you smiled, “what time is it anyway?” You knew it was late, or early depending on how you wanted to look at it, by the darkness that clouded the windows.

Glancing at his watch as he stood up, he began making his way back to his desk, stating, “3:27,” through a soft chuckle. Clearly he hadn’t been paying attention to the time as he was working away.

As you sat up straight on the couch, you crossed your legs on the soft cushions. Draping his jacket around your shoulders, you glanced up to see him, now sitting at his desk, gazing at you from across the room. You felt your cheeks flush, the look on his face was one of pure admiration, as a smile creased the corners of his eyes, “my jacket looks good on you.”

A content sigh hugged your chest, as you pulled the material tighter around yourself. “Thank you,” you spoke playfully, “but not nearly as good as it looks on you.” As he raised an eyebrow at you in question, you admitted, “it’s my favourite one.. You always look so good in it.”

As a blush crept onto his face, he dropped his head and shook it lightly, before finally looking back up at you, a soft, “noted,” falling off his lips.

There was a minute of silence before you spoke up again, your mind unable to focus on anything but the fact that the team had finally figured you out. “So.. everyone knows?” You asked the question, not really wanting to know the answer; you were sure you’d both been so careful. If everyone knew, you figured there were going to be questions asked, needing answers that you didn’t really want to give.

But on the other hand, things would definitely be easier now. There was no doubt in your mind that the two of you would still keep things professional while on the job, but it was the simple things that you were thrilled you’d finally be able to experience. Like holding hands in the elevator, or planning your evening over a shared lunch break, or gentle kisses peppered against the side of your head or his cheek.

Laughing softly, he confirmed, “it looks that way, yes.” His eyes shifted from yours until he was gazing down at the pen in his hand, the noise in his mind beginning to grow. He knew that finally being out in the open would only encourage his love for you to blossom, without fear of being caught or being untruthful with the people he cared about most in life.

But he couldn’t help but wonder if things would change for you now that you weren’t running around in secret. Maybe the thrill would wear off, and you’d realize that you didn’t actually want him, and that you’d simply jumped at the opportunity to be with someone. Although he knew deep down that that was the farthest thing from the kind of person you were, if it was how you felt, he wouldn’t blame you. People always left, and there was one common denominator; him.

You could tell something was on his mind, as you smiled at him from across the room. Just as you were about to ask if everything was alright, he spoke once more, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart.. I should have been more discreet yesterday.”

Shaking your head, you finally stood from the couch and slipped his suit jacket on properly as you made your way across the room. As you walked around his desk, he pushed his chair back just enough to allow you to sit across his lap. His arms instinctually wrapped around your waist, as you draped one arm around his shoulders.

Gazing down at him, you could see the regret and apology written in his eyes. Leaning down, you placed a gentle kiss to his lips, “it’s okay, Aaron. It’s nobody’s fault. We’re a team of profilers, it was bound to happen sooner or later.” You shared another soft kiss, before confessing through a cheeky grin, “besides, I’m kind of glad everyone finally knows.”

He smiled at that, his fears washing away in an instant, “yeah?”

Your voice was soft, “yeah.. Because now I can do this,” you kissed his lips once more, “or this,” a kiss against his cheek, “or this,” wrapping both arms around him, you hugged him tight, “whenever I want. We don’t have to worry about getting caught anymore. It’s actually kind of freeing.”

You could hear the smile as it spread across his face, every worry he’d had moments earlier were distant memories now. As he turned his head and kissed your neck, he trailed kisses along your jaw, before finally connecting his lips to yours again. His voice was content as he spoke, “it is, isn’t it?”

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

He could feel the shift in your body, hear the tension in your breathing, so he distanced his lips from yours, “what’s on your mind?” You attempted to compensate for the distance he’d put between you, leaning in closer as your lips met once more.

He gave in momentarily, allowing your tongue to dance with his, before gently pulling back again. “Hey, hey, sweetheart..” he cooed, “I can tell your mind is elsewhere. What are you thinking about?” Damn profilers. You couldn’t blame him though, because you’d been seconds away from asking him the same question the night before.

After leaving the office, you’d both made your way back to your apartment. The second your heads hit the pillow, you were both out; utterly exhausted not only from the day, but from everything the past week had thrown at you. Now here you were, 5 hours later, waking up in each other’s arms again, warm and content.

It hadn’t taken long before you’d begun your trail of kisses up his neck and along his jaw, before finally connecting your lips to his. That’s what had lead you here, being questioned about where your mind was at. And the truth was, he was right; you weren’t fully present. You’d started your passionate assault on his neck in the first place in an attempt to distract your mind.

You couldn’t stop thinking about that moment, just hours earlier, when you’d been overcome by the feeling of being too much, yet not enough at the same time. Like your lack of experience was underwhelming, yet all-consuming. Like the fact that every tiny thing that shouldn’t be such a big deal this late in life, was still a really big deal to you. It just didn’t sit right with you. You were afraid that all of these firsts would eventually drive him away. Like he’d get tired of the constant reminders of just how far behind in life you were.

But you couldn’t ignore this feeling forever. And you couldn’t deny how comforting it was to know that he truly cared about what you were thinking and feeling. Taking a deep breath, your eyes looking anywhere but at him, you admitted sheepishly, “I just.. I feel like I’m too much. All these firsts..” you finally looked back up at him, “you’ve been there before. Experienced it all before.” Your line of sight dropped once more, your fingertips fidgeting with the collar of the t-shirt he was wearing, “I feel like I’m constantly playing catch-up.”

A deep sigh gripped his chest, his mind racing as he tried to put his own thoughts into words. Pulling you even closer to his chest, he kissed your forehead lovingly, before stating, “I’m sorry you feel that way, sweetheart. But that’s not how I see it.” Another kiss, only this one was against the warm skin of your cheek. “You deserve to enjoy all of these moments, free of worry or regret, regardless of when in life you experience them. If anything, it makes me realize just how special tiny moments like that are. The things in life that most people just accept as normal and move on from.” Another kiss, this time on the tip of your nose. “And I feel truly fortunate to be the man who gets to see the wonder in your eyes, and the joy on your face, any time that happens.”

Finally looking back up at him, the love and acceptance you felt completely consumed you, as you whispered, “thank you, Aaron..” before pressing your lips to his. Pulling back, your noses brushing each other’s gently, you mumbled softly, “I guess it just takes some getting used to..”

His voice was just as quiet, “what does?”

Looking into his eyes once more, you admitted, “being someone that somebody cares for..”

His brows furrowed slightly, as another deep sigh rumbled in his chest. “Well I do. I care about you. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Connecting your lips to his again, you both stayed there, tangled together in the sheets for a short while longer, before finally deciding it was time to get out of bed. You reluctantly pulled your arms from around his waist as you placed one last kiss against his lips. “I’m just going to wash my face quick, then we could make breakfast?”

Nodding his head, he pressed a kiss to your forehead, “sounds good to me.”

Sliding your feet over the edge of the bed, you made your way across the room and pushed the bathroom door closed behind you. You left it open a couple inches, just enough so that when you flipped on the light, it let a small amount of light into the bedroom for him to get dressed. Little did you know, he had other plans.

With the water running as you rinsed off your face-wash, you didn’t hear him getting out of bed, making his way towards you. Just as you shut off the tap, reaching for your washcloth to pat your skin dry, you heard the slight creak of the door. Smiling into the towel, you finally pulled it away from your face and looked to the side to see him standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

Smiling back at him, you set the towel down on the counter and he took that as his invite to come closer. Taking a few steps into the room, he stood behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing a kiss against the back of your head. The smile on your face grew even wider as you slid your arms along his, intertwining your fingers effortlessly.

As you gazed at each other in the mirror, his head now beside yours with his chin resting on your shoulder, he whispered, “you are so beautiful.”

You felt heat rise in your cheeks, as you slowly closed your eyes and breathed in the moment. Feeling every bit of love he was showing you, you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corner of your mouth. Nuzzling your head against his, you opened your eyes and whispered just as quietly, “thank you.”

A content smile consumed his features, knowing you’d truly heard him, and knowing his words were slowing beginning to sink in. He placed a kiss against your cheek, before you turned around in his embrace, and draped your arms over his shoulders. As you gazed up at him, you could see something in his eyes; you weren’t exactly sure what it was, but it sent an excited chill down your spine.

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was firm, sure of himself, prepared for whatever your answer might be.

Nodding your head, you admitted, “you can ask me anything.”

Smiling at the comfort you felt with him, he eased into it, “I know you’ve never been intimate with another person..”

A flustered smile graced your lips, and your breathing grew deeper by the second as you anticipated what he might say next. The smile that was plastered across his face quickly turned to a satisfied smirk as he finally asked his question, “do you.. touch yourself?”

Your eyelids fluttered as your mind processed his words, and you felt heat rise in your cheeks. Slowly releasing the air from your lungs through parted lips, you answered with a soft, “yes..”

His eyes darkened at your admission. He couldn’t help but wonder if any of those times were ever spent thinking of him. He wasn’t a man who spent a lot of time alone, but he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you on those rare occasions his hand was wrapped around his hard length. “Would you be comfortable telling me what you think about when you do?”

Breathing deep once more, you simply nodded your head, the lump in your throat making it impossible for you to speak at first. You could see it in the look on his face, he wanted to know it all. He wanted to know what you like, what your deepest desires are, and even more important, what things you might want to avoid; all of it.

Add to that the fact that you’d never done this before. He’d never once thought about it in a negative way, but there was no denying that being the person you would be giving yourself to for the first time held weight. He wanted to make sure he was doing whatever he could to make the experience everything you’d ever dreamed it could be.

Swallowing hard, your eyes connected with his momentarily, before you felt heat rushing through you all over again. Dropping your head, your eyes lingered on the way his shirt hugged his chest beautifully. You took a deep breath and finally confessed, “I think.. I want someone who can be gentle..” your fingers mindlessly running through the hair on the back of his head, “but who isn’t afraid to take control either..” As those last words fell off your lips, you glanced back up at him, and the look on his face took your breath away.

Your gut told you that was exactly the kind of man he was, and seeing the way he looked at you as you spoke only confirmed your suspicious. It was almost too good to be true. He was your perfect man. The man of your dreams. The man who was going to give you everything you’d ever hoped for, and more.

“I think that can be arranged,” he responded through a cheeky grin, taking your breath away all over again.

The way he kissed you then, deep and hungry, but still gentle, brought out a new sense of confidence that you never thought you had in you. Tightening your arms around his neck, you pulled his lips even closer to yours, before admitting boldly, “since we’re already talking about this.. I.. want you to know that I’m not quite as innocent as it might seem..” His eyes darkened at your admission. “I’ve never done anything with someone else, but I do own a toy or two, okay, self love is important..”

The groan that left his lips made your entire body exhale, and you felt it down there. Before you could say any more, his lips were on yours again, unable to fight the images in his mind of you, alone, making yourself feel good. Giggling softly, you added playfully, “And there are.. things.. I’ve thought about. Things I want to try.. for myself.. and for you..” You accentuated those last words by gently trailing your fingertips down the soft material of his t-shirt.

The breath he let out made you smile once more. “I'd be more than happy to let you try whatever you'd like..”

You let out another soft giggle, biting your bottom lip gently before inquiring, “I want to know what you like, too.”

Brushing a few stray hairs out of your face, he kissed your forehead gently, “communication. I just want you to be honest with me. People change, desires change. I don’t want you to feel like anything is set in stone. If you ever change your mind, and want to try something different, or you end up not liking something you thought you would, I want you to know that you can tell me. And I’ll do the same for you.”

A wide smile spread across your face as you nodded, “okay, I can do that.” You hesitated for a moment, "but.. there's got to be more, isn't there?"

Through a light laugh he admitted, "you're right, there is.. but I don't want you to worry about that just yet, sweetheart. There's no rush. We've got plenty of time to figure it all out. I want to focus on you right now."

His honesty, and his care for you made your heart swell in your chest. You'd imagined your first time over and over, thought you'd covered every possible scenario in your mind, but having a conversation about your desires beforehand was something you hadn't foreseen. Yet here you were, and you were so thankful for him.

"Okay," you spoke through a soft smile, "thank you, Aaron."

Smiling, he placed one more kiss against your forehead. Though the fire between you was burning bright, he could feel it; the fact that you still weren’t quite ready to take that step. Releasing his grasp on your hips, he effortlessly slipped one of his hands into yours, leading you down the short hallway of your apartment. Once in the kitchen, you both shared a playful hour of cooking and enjoying the delicious breakfast you prepared together, scattered with gentle hugs, and tender kisses.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

As the texts came rolling in that afternoon, karaoke was suggested for girl’s night. You'd accepted the offer to join, but admitted that you wouldn't be getting up on stage. You were more than happy to simply go along and enjoy the evening, watching them sing to their heart’s content. Now here you were, just the 4 of you sitting around a table at the team’s go-to karaoke bar, drinks in hand.

The moment you showed up, you could feel it, the way your newly-discovered relationship was hanging over everyone. You wanted to say something, confirm what they were all thinking, that yes you two were actually together, and that yes you were happy. But you didn’t know how to bring it up. Talking about your personal life had never been your strong suit, especially when it came to relationships, or lack-there-of. But now you actually had something to talk about, and you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it; there was something else that would take some getting used to.

But it wouldn’t take long for the group to bring up what you’d been too nervous to. After several minutes of conversation, and listening to others get up on stage to sing, Penelope was the first one to shift the conversation. “Sooo, I heard the exciting news!!” She giggled as your gaze met hers, “how are things with you and Hotch?!”

Your smile started in your eyes, before spreading like wildfire across your face. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks as you thought back to that morning, curled up in bed together, your lips connected passionately. Not to mention the conversation that followed; the trust and honesty between you made the butterflies in your stomach come to life. Dropping your head, you fidgeted with the bracelet on your wrist as you attempted to put your emotions into words.

“Oooo,” Emily prodded lovingly, “the sex is that good, is it?"

Shaking your head and laughing softly, you glanced up at her. Something in you wanted to come clean and be honest with them; you trusted them. But you were still having a hard time admitting to yourself that you have him within your grasp, yet you’ve been unable to take that step. You decided that now wasn’t the time to dive deep into your inexperience, or your anxieties that surrounded it, so you simply rolled your eyes playfully and teased, “well I’m not going to give you all the dirty details..” Heat rose in your cheeks once again as you attempted to play down your mild deception, “but things are going really well.”

The wide grin on Emily’s face told you that your twisting of the truth had worked. Penelope clearly bought it too, as she reached her hand out to grasp your arm lovingly, “a lady never tells, right?” she added with a wink.

Laughing softly, you nodded your head in agreement, “that’s exactly right.”

You were thankful when the conversation shifted quickly, but one glance at JJ told you that she hadn’t been as easily convinced as the others. As her eyes met yours, a smile pulled at the corner of her mouth and she nodded her head knowingly. You realized then that she’d seen right through you.

Another 20 minutes later, the mic was finally free and Garcia and Prentiss decided it was their time to shine. As they stood from their seats, they reached out their hands to JJ, who politely declined to join, “I think I’m going to sit this one out, ladies.” Their disappointment was clear in their exaggerated pouts, but they didn’t push, simply turning with a laugh, locking arms, and making their way up to the stage.

Once they were out of ear shot, JJ jumped straight down to business, “okay, I’m sorry to bring this up again, but I just have to know.. you and Hotch.. did he go to that wedding with you?!”

The way your eyes dropped to the drink in your hand was all the confirmation she needed, but you answered anyway, "he did.."

"Ha!" she exclaimed, "I knew it!" As you finally looked back up at her, she took the hint by the look on your face and dialed back her excitement a little bit. "Sorry, sorry, I'm just so happy for you!! For both of you!"

You laughed softly, reaching out your hand and grasping hers, "thank you, JJ." As heat rose in your cheeks once again, you spoke though a content sigh, "I'm really happy, too."

Giving your hand a loving squeeze, she asked gently, "but.. you two.. you haven't.."

You shook your head, causing her to trail off in the middle of her question, a quiet, “no..” falling off your lips.

She could see something in your eyes, something that told her you regretted that that was your answer. Doing her best to read the situation, she offered warm words of encouragement, "well that's okay! Honestly, I think it’s really sweet. It shouldn’t always be about that anyway. You’re connecting on a deeper level, really getting to know each other first. That's important. I think it's a good sign that you two will last."

Your smile grew as her words sunk in, you really hoped she was right. The thought of spending the rest of your life with him wasn't scary or intimidating, it felt like the natural path for you; like you'd finally figured out where you were meant to be. "You've got a point there.." your voice trailed off once more as your eyes scanned hers. You'd trusted her with so much already, the conversation you'd had with her on the jet before the wedding had really shown you that you could open up to her without fear of judgement. Breathing in deep, you admitted gently, “but we uhh, we haven't, done it, yet because.. I.. haven’t..”

As realization spread across her face, your eyes were locked on her. The way her lips parted slightly, and her eyebrows raised, told you that your confession had caught her completely by surprise. “Wait.. really?” she asked, care in her voice. Simply nodding your head, you found yourself unable to speak. But it didn't matter, because she had another question front and center in her mind, “does he..”

You cut her short, knowing exactly where her mind was at, “yes, JJ, he knows.”

Smiling back at you, pure joy radiating from her, she admitted, “okay I take back what I said earlier. That is officially the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard."

That caused both of you to laugh, giving your mind a second to recover from it's anxiousness. Now that that was out of the way, you felt the exact same way you had on the jet that day, like you could tell her anything. You spoke quietly once again, "we've talked about it a couple times, and he's been incredibly kind and understanding."

Another smile consumed her features, "now you see, that doesn't surprise me at all." You both shared another laugh before she added, "he might put on a face at work, but that’s all it is. Behind those strong eyebrows and that stern look is one of the best people I've ever met. I'm so glad you've found each other."

You murmured a quiet, "I am, too," just as you heard the music starting. As both of you exchanged one more loving glance, you finally turned your attention to the stage, where Penelope and Emily had selected their song and were about to give the best performance of their lives. Or at least that's how it would be recounted to everyone at the office.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Curled up in the sheets the next morning, you were surprised to find yourself overcome by the feeling that your bed was incredibly empty without him beside you. Heat rushed through you at the thought; you were getting so accustomed to him being there, holding you close, that you wanted to do anything you could to be there again.

You glanced over at your phone when you heard it buzz, and couldn't help but smile when you saw his name lighting up the screen.

📲 Good morning, sweetheart. How was last night?

Smiling at the message, you quickly typed out a reply.

📲 Good morning, handsome. It was great! I think Prentiss and Garcia set the record for the most Madonna songs sung in one night.

You could practically see the smile that was surely plastered across his face as he read your message.

📲 Why am I not surprised? I'm glad you enjoyed your evening.

He'd told you the previous morning that Jack had requested a movie night, and you couldn't wait to hear all about it.

📲 And your movie night with Jack? What did you end up watching?

Another huge smile spread across his face at the mention of his son.

📲 The Empire Strikes Back. He's been anxiously waiting for me to get home so we could watch it together.

A warmth washed over you as you imagined the two Hotchner boys curled up on the couch with popcorn, the sound of droids and lightsabers filling the room.

📲 Ooo that's my favourite one! Did Jack love it?

He couldn't deny the pull he felt towards you in that moment. You'd met Jack before, but never as anything more than a member of the team; one of his dad's co-workers. He knew Jack would love you, and vice versa, but knowing that you now had a solid starting point for building that relationship warmed his heart.

📲 He did! I didn't realize you were a Star Wars fan. You should join us for the next one.

Your heart fluttered. You knew this moment would come, and the predicted level of excitement you knew you'd feel was there in full force. Even the couple times you’d met Jack in the past, you knew he was a special kid. He was soft spoken, very smart, and very contemplative, always something on his mind; just like his father. You couldn't wait to spend more time with him, bonding over your shared love of all things galactic.

📲 Am I ever! I would love that.

Another smile pulled at the corner of his lips as he typed out another message.

📲 Sounds great! But until then, I can't wait to see you again. Jack is going to a friend's for a sleepover tonight. Are you free for dinner?

After reading his message, you simply set your phone down on the bed beside you and stared up at the ceiling. It was like the past 3 months were being played out in slow motion right in front of you. The way he looked in that suit and bowtie at the wedding. The way his lips felt against yours sitting on that bench in the garden. The way his hands felt as they gripped your hips the night you’d pulled away from him; and how understanding he’d been about your hesitation. The way he held you close on multiple occasions when you were breaking down. The way it felt finally confessing your love for him, and hearing it in return. And finally, the way you felt right now in this moment, as a wave of emotion crashed over you, dragging you out to sea on a cloudless night, where you could finally see everything clearly.

It felt like all the stars had aligned.

It felt like this was exactly where you were meant to be.

📲 I am! Come over to my place and we’ll decide where we’d like to go?

You sent the message even though you knew neither of you were going to make it to a restaurant.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

The soft knock at your door made the butterflies come to life in your stomach. This might not be the first time he’d been to your place, or the first time he’d shown up at your door to whisk you away for a romantic evening. But it was the first time you’d be opening that door, inviting him into your space, with more on your mind than ever before.

Flipping the lock and turning the handle on the door, you slowly pulled it open to find him standing there, bouquet of flowers in hand. The love you felt for him gripped your chest, making it impossible to breathe, but the look on your face said it all. Taking a step forward, he reached his free hand out and cradled the back of your head, placing a gentle kiss against your forehead.

Once he was through the door, he handed the flowers to you and you graciously accepted them, “thank you Aaron, they’re beautiful!”

As you held the bouquet, he cupped your face with both of his strong hands, pulling your lips to his passionately, “not as beautiful as you.”

A flustered smile graced your lips, as you leaned forward and kissed him again; your way of saying thank you.

As you turned to find a vase to put them in, he couldn’t help but stare as you walked away. You were wearing a simple wrap dress, one who’s v-neck showed off your breasts flawlessly, with it tied around your waist, accentuating your curves. The way your hips swayed as you moved had his mind racing. “I didn’t realize we were dressing up tonight,” he said through a soft chuckle, as he looked down at the polo shirt and jeans he was wearing.

In contrast to your outfit, he did look slightly underdressed, but it didn’t matter. If things went to plan, your clothing would be littered across the floor soon enough.

Turning to face him once again, you confessed, “I didn’t get dressed up to go out.” You could see the confusion on his face, and you couldn’t help the quiet laugh that escaped your lips.

“But I thought..” he trailed off, as you took slow steps towards him, tugging gently at the bow keeping your dress together.

“I got dressed up for you.” One final pull had the knot coming undone.

A sharp exhale left his lips as realization settled in his chest. He watched, speechless, as you carefully pulled back one side of the dress, giving him a tiny peek at the lacy set you’d picked out just for him. A soft, “oh..” fell off his lips, as his eyes trailed across your body.

You couldn’t help but smile; you’d never seen him this flustered before, and it made heat rush through your veins. “Is that okay?” Your voice was soft as you finally stepped close to him, resting your hands on either side of his arms.

All he could do was nod his head, the blush in his cheeks clear as day.

“You’re nervous..” you spoke gently, placing your hand against his chest, feeling his racing heart through the soft material enveloping his chest.

Wrapping his hand around yours, he squeezed tight, “I just want you to be sure.”

Through a soft smile, you admitted, “I’m sure, Aaron. I love you. I trust you.”

A deep sigh left his lips, “I love you, too, Y/N.” With his hand still holding yours, he slowly lifted it, pressing a tender kiss against the palm of your hand.

Releasing the grasp on your hand, he lowered his hands to your hips, pulling you closer. Draping your arms over his shoulders, you gently ran your fingers through his hair, causing a shiver to run down his spine. Sharing another loving glance, his eyes finally flickered down to your lips, before he leaned in, ever so slowly.

When your lips connected with his, you felt fireworks erupting deep within. You were no longer anxious about where a kiss like that would lead. You felt completely free of any inhibitions, no longer overthinking every move you made. You could simply allow your body to give in to what it's been begging for.

After kissing you deep once more, he reluctantly pulled his lips away from yours; he needed to distance himself for a moment because his mind was racing. He’d dreamt of this moment for so long, and now it was finally here. Holding you in his arms at that wedding, your head resting on his chest while you swayed back and forth, had taken his breath away. Having you underneath him, your soft skin against his, your body shaking, might just do him in completely.

A gentle laugh graced his lips as he rested his forehead against yours. The silence that fell between you then wasn't awkward, it was calm, safe, and comforting. With your breathing matching his, you slowly pulled away to look him in the eyes, before grasping his hand in yours. As he smiled down at you, the gentle squeeze of your hand made your heart flutter.

Taking a step to the side, your hand locked in his, you lead him through the living room, down the short hallway, and into your bedroom. The room was lit by the dim glow of the bedside lamp, enveloping you both in warmth.

Releasing your grasp on his hand, you turned to face him before placing your palms against his chest, and slowly running them along the front of his shirt. With your eyes connected, he didn't stop you as your hands slowly trailed down the front of his body, across his stomach, before reaching the hem of his shirt. The soft nod of his head was all it took, as your fingertips slid underneath the soft material, your hands making contact with his warm skin. Trailing your palms across his stomach, up to his chest, you watched eagerly as his breathing hitched, a content sigh falling off his lips.

Every line of scarred skin under your fingertips sent a chill through you. He'd been through so much, experienced the best, and the absolute worst things that life had to offer. Somehow, that had all lead him to you. The same way everything you'd been through, every rejection that lead to heartbreak, every lonely night spent praying for love to find you, had lead you here; to him.

With your palms still running along his chest, he reached behind his back with one hand and pulled his shirt over his head smoothly, tossing it to the side. You didn't hesitate, wrapping your arms around his waist, and connecting your lips to his soft skin. As you trailed kisses across his chest, from one shoulder to the other, his hand came up to rest on the back of your head.

Placing one final kiss against his skin, you looked up at him, and in no time he was pulling your lips to his passionately. As your tongue danced effortlessly with his, a moan rumbled in your chest, causing him to smile against your lips, and kiss you even deeper.

Without breaking his lips away from yours, he gently grabbed hold of either side of your dress that was now hanging open, and you followed his lead. Dropping your arms to the side, your lips still connected to his, you allowed him to push the material over your shoulders, falling to the ground in a pile at your feet.

With one more kiss, he finally pulled back, and his eyes locked on yours. As you smiled up at him, you could see it in the expression on his face; he was asking permission to look. Completely overcome by the love you felt for him, you couldn't help but smile, as you reached for his hand. Placing it against your hip, you slowly guided it up your side along your bare skin, until you reached your bra. Cupping your hand around his, you squeezed gently, and his eyes flickered shut at the feeling.

When he opened them once again, he scanned your face wildly before finally dropping his gaze to your chest. The way the lilac purple material hugged your breasts flawlessly took his breath away. His eyes slowly trailed down your stomach, to the matching underwear clothing your folds, before looking back up at you. He couldn't believe you were standing there in front of him, wearing a beautiful set of lingerie, just for him.

As you reached for the belt on his jeans, your fingers fidgeting with the buckle, he gently grasped your wrist, stopping your movements. Gazing into his eyes, you asked softly, "what is it?"

Nothing in the world could have prepared you for his answer.

"The fact that anyone turned you away, I will never understand."

Your heart jumped into your throat, and it felt like you couldn't breathe. His words cut straight through any remaining hesitations you might have had, making you feel truly at home in your skin for the first time in your life. Like maybe you were worthy of love after all. Like maybe you might actually get your happy ending.

Unable to control yourself any longer, your eyes flickered down to his lips as you stood on your tiptoes, kissing him passionately. With your arms around his waist, and his hands on your hips, pulling you closer, you stood there with your lips dancing together for what felt like an eternity.

One moment in particular, when he readjusted his grasp on your hips, pulling you flush with his body, you could feel his excitement through his pants as it pressed into your stomach. A deep exhale left your chest, causing your lips to part from his, and you could hear the smile that spread across his face.

Your chest heaved, breathless from the kiss, as your hands slowly wandered down to his belt once more. With a gentle hand cupping your cheek, he kissed your forehead gently as your shaky fingers fumbled with the buckle, before finally pulling it open. Slowly pulling the zipper on his jeans down, he allowed you to push them over his hips and to the floor.

Stepping out of the crumpled material, he lead you closer to the bed. As your legs brushed against the sheets, you grasped his bicep to keep yourself steady as you climbed onto the bed, kneeling in front of him. Sharing another loving glance, you leaned forward and trailed more kisses across his sturdy chest as your fingers wandered down his body once more.

Trailing more kisses up his neck, your hand gently ran over the front of his boxers. Feeling his impressive length through the material, a chill ran through you. Having his warm, flushed skin against yours, feeling him, knowing you were the cause of it all; it was overwhelming in the best way imaginable.

A soft groan escaped his lips as you placed kisses along his jaw, before capturing his lips with yours. The kiss was hot, feverish, and messy, as you began moving your palm quicker, reveling in the way he moaned into your mouth with every motion of your hand. The feeling sent shockwaves through your system, causing the burning in your belly to grow, and heat to pool between your legs.

But it wasn't long before his hand was on yours again, stopping your motions. Pulling away from the kiss, both of you breathing heavily with your lips parted, he brushed his nose against yours playfully before admitting through a breathless laugh, "sweetheart, I won't last much longer if you keep doing that.."

Letting out a soft laugh, you spoke quietly, "I'm sorry.."

He laughed right along with you, placing a gentle kiss against your lips, "you don't need to apologize. It just feels too good.. You feel too good." You exhaled deep at his words, and a sly smile flashed across his face at the affect it had on you. "Just lay back and relax.. let me take care of you.”

All you could do was nod, your cheeks burning at the realization of what he was suggesting. You shouldn't have been surprised, knowing the kind of man he was, of course he was going to put your pleasure above his own; especially now, trusting him with such an intimate moment in your life.

As you laid back against the soft sheets, your body in the middle of the bed, you watched breathlessly as he knelt on the bed at your feet. Placing his hands against the outside of your ankles, he slowly trailed his fingertips up the sides of your legs. With his large hands completely consuming your knees, he looked you in the eyes before gently nudging your legs apart.

As your knees separated from one another, his hands still resting against them encouragingly, you felt nervousness bubble up inside you. Nerves over finally allowing someone to see you, to touch you, to kiss you down there, were all you could think about, and you instinctively brought a hand up to cover your face.

Shuffling a bit closer, he reached his hand out to you, caressing the hand that was covering your face, and cooing softly, "hey, sweetheart, look at me." Allowing him to pull your hand away from your face, you opened your eyes and gazed up at him, doe eyed and breathless. "There she is.." his voice was quiet, as his hand held yours. The smile that creased the corners of your eyes made his heart swell in his chest.

Leaning forward, he nuzzled himself between your legs, resting his bodyweight on his arms beside you. With one hand still holding yours, he used his other to gently brush a few stray hairs out of your face, before connecting his lips to yours tenderly. "I want to kiss you," he admitted against your lips, "down your neck," another kiss, "across your stomach," he kissed you deeply, "and between those beautiful thighs." The things he said always took your breath away. "Is that okay?"

Nodding your head, you connected your lips to his once more, before admitting quietly, "yes, Aaron. Please.."

A smile spread wide across his face as he began his trail of kisses across your cheek and down your neck. Once he reached your chest, he placed gentle kisses between your breasts, his hands cupping them and squeezing lightly, drawing a soft moan out of you before he continued down your body. Finally between your legs, he glanced up at you, care in his eyes as he spoke, "I'll take things slow. Just tell me if you need me to stop, okay?"

Nodding your head once more, you reassured him, "I will, I promise." You'd propped yourself up on your elbows to watch him, and as you reached a hand out to him, you ran your fingers through his hair lovingly.

With another smile, he lowered himself between your legs, trailing gentle kisses from your knee, down the inside of your thigh. Before you knew what hit you, he was kissing your mound through the lacy material of your underwear.

With your eyes trained on him, you couldn’t help but sigh at the way his eyebrows drew together in concentration. He was holding himself back from diving in too quickly, and devouring you the way he’d always dreamed of; that would be for another night. For now, he wanted to take his time, make sure you felt comfortable, relaxed, and safe.

A gentle sigh fell off your lips, your fingers tightening their grip on his hair. Without taking his lips off of you, he glanced up, those strong eyebrows of his raising effortlessly as his eyes searched yours. The sight knocked the breath right out of you.

The feeling was already too much, and with a soft moan, you allowed yourself to fall back against the sheets. With every kiss, he got more and more eager, even using his tongue to tease you through the soft material. "You're already so wet.. I can taste you through your pretty little panties."

You felt your walls clench at his words, a deep throbbing beginning to build between your legs. You'd felt it before, the times you'd touched yourself, the urge to have contact with your clit immediately, the urge to push yourself over that edge as soon as possible. But it was so much different with him, knowing he was the one who was going to take you there. Knowing he wanted to take you there. Knowing you could just lay back and relax, enjoying every bit of pleasure he was offering.

With his hands trailing across the soft skin of your stomach, he lowered them to your hips, tucking his fingers under the sides of your underwear. You took the hint, lifting your hips off the bed and allowing him to pull the material down your legs. In no time at all, he had them tossed aside, and as he lowered himself between your legs once more you could feel his hot breath against your core.

Another chill ran through you as he spoke, "you ready, sweetheart?"

A breathless, "yes," escaped your lips, and he didn't hesitate, attaching his lips to your waiting folds immediately. The second he made contact with your body, you let out a deep groan, a sound you'd never made before, but one that was music to his ears. This was it, the first time you'd ever let anyone in, and allowed them to be responsible for your pleasure.

With his tongue running eagerly through your wetness, he couldn't help but let out small groans of his own; he finally had you within in grasp, your body trembling under his touch, and he simply couldn't get enough. He felt as though if he was the last man on earth, he would only need you to keep him alive. "Fuck sweetheart," he moaned between swipes of his tongue, and kisses against your aching bud, "you taste so good."

Another deep moan escaped your lips as you felt that same pleasure building inside you. But there was another aching you couldn't ignore. You needed more. You needed something, anything, inside of you. "Aaron.." you whimpered, "more.. I need more.."

You could feel his smile against your folds, as he slid his tongue between them all over again, flicking across your clit along the way. "Yeah?"

A quiet, "mhmm.." was all you could muster, as your hips writhed beneath him.

"Do you want my fingers?" He asked the question, already knowing the answer.

Groaning deep, you mumbled an almost incoherent, "please.." before finally opening your eyes and glancing down at him. The sight knocked the wind right out of you; the smile on his face was glistening, shining, soaked with your arousal. You could have sworn you'd never seen anything more attractive in your life, and before you knew what you were doing, you were sitting up and reaching out for him. Grasping his face in your hands, you pulled his lips to yours, kissing him deep. As your tongue explored his mouth eagerly, you could taste yourself on his lips, and it only spurred you on.

When you finally pulled away, your cheeks grew hot at the look on his face, his eyes wide, lust written in the way his pupils dilated. No words were needed, as he brought his hand up to your lips, and you eagerly parted them. Sucking gently, swirling your tongue around his thick digits, he finally pulled them out, a quiet pop echoing throughout the room.

Keeping his eye trained on yours, he brought his hand back down between your legs, before carefully lining them up with your entrance. "Tell me if you need me to stop, okay?"

Your chest heaving, you admitted boldly, "I don't want you to."

His eyes burned even hotter at that, but he still kept his promise of being gentle, and taking things slow. With a couple swipes of his fingers through your folds, coating them in your arousal, he finally pushed the pads of his fingers past your tight lips and between your aching walls. With small motions, he pushed them farther and farther in until he couldn't reach any deeper, and you couldn't help but let out an airy breath at the feeling.

With your eyes locked on his, you nodded your head, giving him permission to move. He started by slowly pulling them out, before pushing them back in carefully, over and over. The feeling was indescribable; his fingers were so much bigger than your own. "You can move faster, Aaron. Please.." you whined.

He responded immediately, picking up the slow and steady pace he'd set, getting quicker by the second. Placing his other hand flat against your chest, he encouraged you to lay back against the bed. As your back hit the sheets once more, you immediately felt your body relax, giving into the feeling of his fingers buried deep inside you. Shifting his hand slightly, he began pressing his fingers flat against that spongey spot inside you, causing yet another breathy moan to fall off your lips.

With no signs of you wanting him to stop, and all signs pointing towards the fact that your body was nearing the edge, he readjusted himself slightly so he could meet your body with his lips once again. The second his tongue made contact with your clit, you gasped, the feeling completely overwhelming your senses. With every movement of his fingers, and every swipe of his tongue, you felt your body nearing that summit.

Once he started curling his fingers, you were done for, the feeling completely consuming you. Reaching your hands down, you grasped fistfuls of his hair, encouraging him to press his lips even harder against you, and he took the hint. Picking up the pace with his fingers yet again, he began sucking directly on your clit, causing a string of breathy curse words to echo throughout the room. "Oh fuck.. Aaron.." you pleaded, "I'm so close.. You're going to make me cum.."

He didn't let up, keeping his fingers exactly where they were, encouraging your throbbing walls to fully clench around them, and in a matter of seconds, they would. He simply hummed in acknowledgement, his lips still wrapped around your clit, and that was all it took. With one strangled gasp, you tightened your grip on his hair, as you felt that wave of pleasure crash over you. With your mouth wide open, your back arched off the bed, he continued with the motions of his fingers as long as you would allow him, helping you ride out your high.

When it finally reached the point of too much, you pushed down on his head and he reacted immediately. Pulling his fingers out of you, he swiped his tongue across your sensitive bud one last time, causing a shiver of pleasure to shake your body.

With your chest heaving, your arms dropped limp beside you, he couldn't help but admire your breathless form. His eyes trailed from your soaking core, across your stomach to your breasts, and finally to the look of pure bliss on your face. If he wasn't already hard, he definitely would be now.

Trailing his large hands along your legs, he placed gentle kisses against the inside of your thighs, still wanting to be close to you as you came down from your high. "You are so beautiful, my sweet girl."

A breathless laugh rumbled in your chest, as you finally opened your eyes once more. Gazing down at him, his cheek resting against the inside of your thigh, you reached one of your shaky hands up to the side of his face, your thumb brushing against his cheek. "I love you so much, Aaron."

The smile that spread across his lips was contagious, and you couldn't help the smile that consumed your features. "I love you, too, Y/N."

With one more swipe of your thumb across his cheek, you reached farther down, grasping his shoulder and whining playfully, "get up here.."

Kissing your thigh once more, he eagerly shuffled his body between your legs, hovering over you as your lips met passionately. With his sturdy frame caging you in from above, instinct took over and your legs dropping open even wider. You could feel his hard length against your core, nothing but the thin material of his boxers separating your body from his. It didn't take long before you began moving beneath him, grinding your hips into his eagerly. "I need you, Aaron.." your words were mumbled against his lips, but he heard every syllable.

He couldn't help the moan that left his lips; it felt like every nerve ending in his body was on high alert. The way your hips grinded against his, the way your arms encircled his body, and the way your hands trailed along his back. The way the lacy material of the bra you were still wearing rubbed gently against his chest, the way your lips felt against his, and the way your hair felt between his fingers. You were completely intoxicating, and you were asking him to make love to you. Your first time. Your first time together. His first time with the woman who had plagued his mind for nearly 2 years now.

Pulling away from your lips, he leaned on his arms beside you, placing a kiss against your forehead. Gazing into your eyes, he asked softly, "you're still sure this is what you want?"

A smile creased the corners of your eyes, as you brought one of your hands up to the side of his face. Kissing his lips tenderly, you nodded your head as you reassured him, "yes, Aaron. I want this. I want you."

Capturing your lips with his, he gently trailed kisses across your cheek and down your neck once more, before looking back up at you. "Okay," he spoke through a soft smile.

"Okay," you repeated, your fingers carding through his hair. Placing another kiss against his lips, you turned your head to the side, and he followed your line of sight as you pointed at your bedside table, "I have condoms in the top drawer."

Looking back at you, a cheeky grin spread across his face, "oh you do, do you?"

You bit your lip and nodded your head sheepishly, feeling heat rise in your cheeks all over again, "mhmm.. I knew I wanted this with you tonight. I was really hoping you would, too."

Pressing his lips to yours gently, he lingered for a moment before confessing, "I will always want this with you." You felt the breath leave your chest, the love and acceptance you felt completely overwhelming you.

With a gentle peck against your lips, he lifted his body off of yours before standing from the bed and reaching for the bedside table. Opening the top drawer, he found a small pile of foil packages inside and picked one up, before turning back to you. You'd propped yourself up on your elbows once more, watching eagerly as he tucked his thumbs in the waistband of his boxers and tugged them down.

The second they passed his hips, and his hard length sprang free, your mouth dropped open. You knew he was big; you already had your suspicions, and then you'd felt him through his boxers earlier, but actually seeing him sent a shockwave of nerves through you. He was big. How was he going to fit?

Once he dropped the material to the floor, he tore open the package and swiftly rolled the condom down his length. You watched in awe at the way he swung back and forth as he climbed back onto the bed, kneeling between your legs once more. Glancing back down at you, he finally registered the look on your face, one that told him that your confidence of a few minutes ago had been cut down drastically.

Before he could say anything, you were speaking up in an attempt to make light of the anxiousness that clouded your mind, "you’re uhh.. you're definitely bigger than my vibrator..”

He tried to suppress it, the smirk on his face after hearing those words fall off your lips. He could see the nerves written across your face, and he didn't want to do anything to make things worse for you. But he couldn't help the way it felt, seeing the surprise on your face, and hearing the slight shake in your voice; his confidence took quite a boost in that moment. He knew that once you got used to him, you'd be glad you'd found him, trusted him, allowed him in; you'd be intoxicated by the feeling of him deep within you.

You saw it, too, the flicker of lust in his eyes as you spoke. While your intentions had been to reiterate to him that you'd need him to go slow, you'd meant it as a compliment, too. You knew as well as he did, that his size would never become boring or mundane; it wouldn't matter how many times you had him deep inside, that initial intrusion would still burn in the most glorious way.

Reaching a hand out to grasp yours, he immediately jumped in to calm the fear racing through your mind. "Hey, sweetheart," he cooed, "look at me," bringing your attention back up to him. As your eyes finally flickered up to meet his, he reassured you, "I promise we'll take things slow. And we can stop whenever you need to."

Nodding your head, you smiled up at him, "okay.. thank you, Aaron. I trust you."

Reaching for your hand, he grasped it gently, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the back of it tenderly. Leading your hand farther down, he encouraged you to wrap it around his length, and you did, feeling his girth between your fingers; your fingers didn't meet each other. "Just tell me when you're ready, sweetheart." Nodded your head in response, he let go of your hand, and you began gently moving up and down along his length. An excited chill ran through you as his stomach tensed and his head tipped back in pleasure.

After a moment, you shuffled your hips a bit closer to his, your hand still wrapped around him. As you laid back against the sheets once more, you carefully placed his length against your soaking folds. Running his tip back and forth, coating it in your wetness, you both moaned softly at the feeling of your bodies truly connected for the first time.

Lining him up with your entrance, you lightly pressed the tip against you, testing the waters, and his eyes immediately shot down between your legs. Drinking in the sight of your hand around him, directing him where you needed him, his length glistening with your arousal.

Once you let go of his length, his eyes trailed along your body, across your soft stomach, to your breasts still clothed in lace, and finally up to meet your eyes. The slight nod of your head, and your soft words, "I'm ready, Aaron. I want you inside me," gave him the go-ahead.

Reaching his hand out, he gently placed it against your pelvis, running his thumb back and forth encouragingly, "okay, please tell me if I'm going too fast, or if anything hurts.."

"I will," you agreed, "I promise."

With that, he slid his hand farther down, his thumb making contact with your swollen clit, sending a shiver through you. Using his other hand to steady his length, he carefully pushed his hips forward, just enough to allow his tip inside you. Keeping his hips still, he continued moving his thumb, back and forth against your aching bud, causing your body to relax more and more by the second, and allowing you to focus on the pleasure rather than the stretch.

Glancing down at you once more, he slowly pressed into you a bit farther, and he watching in awe as your already closed eyes squeezed shut even tighter. With your lips parted, your chest heaving, he gently pushed a bit farther again, and this time your hand flew up to his arm, grasping it lightly. Somehow he knew, that this was your way of communicating if it was too much. He would pay such close attention to your grip on his arm, and slow down if you gripped him too tight.

With every inch of his length slowly pressing between your tight walls, he ran his thumb back and forth over your sensitive clit. As his thumb made contact, over and over, he could feel you clenching around him, throbbing as you took more and more of him with each gentle push forward. You were completely intoxicating, squeezing him so tight he could hardly think straight; you felt even better than he could have imagined.

In no time, that same stinging sensation you could remember feeling the first time you'd used your vibrator was back; only this was even more intense. He was big. Your body needed time to adjust, and you were thankful he was giving that to you. But with every small push forward, that stinging grew and grew, until it was all you could focus on. The bliss your clit was providing was fading into the distance with every second that passed.

You subconsciously tightened your grip on his arm, and he immediately stilled his hips, his hand that was keeping his length steady found it's way to encompassing yours. He spoke softly, "hey, sweetheart.. are you okay? Is it too much? Do you need me to stop?"

Finally opening your eyes, you gazed up at him, the concern on his face making your heart swell in your chest. You shook your head no, your breathless voice confirming, "no, I think.. I think I just need you to move in and out a bit.."

Nodding his head, understanding what you were asking, he kept his hand where it was, a comforting gesture that he was there, and he was being careful. Continuing with those same gentle swiping motions with his thumb, he began pulling out, ever so slowly, before pushing back in gently. He was careful not to go any farther than he'd already been inside you, letting you get used to what you'd already taken, which to your surprise, would be more than you'd thought.

That small taste of movement sent shockwaves through his body. You were so warm, and so tight, and you felt so fucking good every time your walls pulled him farther in. Glancing down where your bodies met, he encouraged you, "you're so close, you've almost got all of me.. you're doing so well, sweetheart."

A deep groan rumbled in your chest at his words, his praise, his confidence in you, and his care for you. With a few more shaky movements of his hips, you felt his thighs meet yours, his length completely sheathed within you. Finally removing his hand from your pelvis, he reached up to caress your cheek, his thumb rubbing just as gently across your soft skin.

Opening your eyes once more, your gaze met his and you couldn't help but smile, a wide grin at how full you felt with him deep within you, stretching you like you'd never been stretched before. Reaching your arms out to him, you grasped his sides, "come here.." encouraging him to lean overtop of you.

As he did, the slight movement of his hips against yours caused you to moan, a soft curse leaving your lips, "fuuuck.. Aaron you're so deep. I can feel you everywhere.."

Your words got a moan out of him, too, as he captured your lips with his, hungry and passionate. Pulling away from your lips, he asked gently, his fingers carding through your hair, "you're okay? Does it hurt?"

Wincing slightly as your mind re-focused on the aching between your legs, you decided that being honest was best, "it stings.. but I'm okay. I don't want to stop. Fuck, I really don't want to stop."

A smile spread across his face life wildfire, creasing the corners of his eyes and making your heart flutter. "Okay," he grinned, "do you want me to move?"

Nodding your head, you whimpered softly, "please, I want to feel you.."

Another groan rumbled in his chest, as he connected his lips to yours again, and ever so slowly began moving his hips against yours. His length leaving you immediately left you feeling empty, like a part of you was missing. But as he gently pushed forward again, his length stretching you out in one fluid motion, you couldn't help the gasp that escaped your lips. You finally felt whole once more, but he stilled his hips at the sound of your breathy gasp, afraid that he’d pushed you too far, too soon.

You didn't give him a chance to second guess his actions, as you tried moving your hips beneath him, desperate to feel it again. It still stung, but you could finally feel that mixture of pain and pleasure creeping up inside you, and you didn't want it to end. You needed more. You needed him.

He kept still for a short while, allowing your hips to move at their own pace, until one particularly loud moan in his ear told him that you'd finally made it through the valley, and your body was beginning to climb higher. "How does that feel, my girl? Better?"

You nodded your head vigorously, a gentle, "mhmm," mumbled against his ear.

"Yeah?" His voice was quiet, as he placed sloppy kisses against your neck.

You let out another moan of, "mhmm.."

His next words completely took your breath away, as he sung your praises. "Good. Fuck, such a good girl. You feel amazing, sweetheart. So tight."

Exhaling hard, you tucked your face into his shoulder, kissing his warm skin passionately. With your arms tucked around his back, one feeling the muscles in his back as he held himself above you, the other wandering farther down to the small of his back. Lying your hand flat, you pressed down, finally encouraging him to move his hips.

He didn’t hesitate, starting slow, pulling back, before gently pushing his length back inside you. The whimper that left your lips this time was different; needy, hot, desperate. He couldn’t help but smile, kissing your neck just below your ear, whispering more praises as he slowly began picking up the pace, “my good girl.. taking my cock so well..”

His words made heat rush through you, and you felt your body relax instantly, another deep exhale falling off your lips. He felt it too, the way your walls relaxed, allowing him inside you easier, pulling him closer. With every thrust, in and out, over and over, the pain subsided, swiftly being replaced by the most pleasure you’d felt in your life. His body weight pinning you against the mattress, his pelvis rubbing against your aching clit with every thrust, and his length, his breathtaking length, hitting that glorious spot, and farther; somehow farther, deeper.

“Oh FUCK, Aaron..” your voice was achy, desperate, begging him for more, “you feel so good.. it doesn’t hurt anymore.. just, so fucking good..”

Another smile consumed his features as he lifted his head from beside yours, bringing a hand up to the side of your face, cupping your cheek gently. Opening your eyes, you were greeted with the sight of him gazing down at you, a beautiful mix of love and lust shining bright in his eyes. “You’re so beautiful like this, my girl..” he kissed you, deep and hungry, whispering again, “flushed, breathless, full of me..” before capturing your lips again.

With his hand still cupping your cheek, his lips connected to yours, you felt that familiar ache creeping in, your body begging for more. “Aaron.. I’m..” you whimpered, your eyes trained on his, so desperate for release you couldn’t say any more.

“I know, sweetheart..” he cooed, “I know.” Your head tipped back slightly, eyes closing as the pleasure grew. “I feel you. I’m right behind you..” Nodding your head, you pulled him close again, your arms wrapped around him as his entire body weight relaxed on top of you. “You can let go, my girl..” he said between kisses against your neck, “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.”

With every thrust, his hips began to stutter, his own release building deep within; but he needed you to get there first. He tried desperately to hold on, the feeling of your walls fluttering around him pushing him too far. With a soft grunt, he begged, “cum for me, sweetheart..”

The strain in his voice rushed straight to your core, as you felt bliss consuming you, like your entire body was on fire. As your toes curled, and your arms tightened around his back, you felt that coil in your belly finally snap. Your walls began pulsing, a strangled moan getting stuck in your throat, as he continued his movements, carrying you through your high.

Just as he’d said, his release followed immediately after yours. The feeling of your body shaking beneath his, your tight walls constricting around his length, made his muscles tense as he spilled himself inside the condom, deep within you. Another soft grunt rolled off his lips, his hot breath on your neck, as one final movement of his hips made you whimper beneath him.

Finally stilling his motions, you felt his body collapse completely on top of yours, and the feeling was euphoric. You’d held him close before, but this was different; so different. Both of you breathless, your arms wrapped tight around him, his length stilled inside of you, you could have sworn you’d never felt more whole in your life.

A content sigh gripped your chest, as you gently trailed kisses along his shoulder, and up his neck. One of your hands trailing along his back, over his shoulder blades, and into his hair, massaging the back of his head. You heard him let out a deep breath at the feeling, as he lifted his head from beside yours.

As your eyes connected, you couldn’t help but smile, as a gentle laugh echoed throughout the room. The sound made his chest swell, a smile spreading across his face as he let out a breathless laugh of his own. Leaning down, he gently pressed his lips against yours, feeling the way your body sighed at the contact.

You both stayed right where you were for what felt like an eternity, your bodies still connected, his lips peppering your skin with soft kisses, and your hands running through his hair. His gentle voice was the first thing to break the silence, “I love you so much..”

Sighing deep once more, you ran your fingers along his cheek, cupping his face as your thumb trailed across his bottom lip. Pressing your lips to his, you whispered gently against them, “I love you, too..” You could feel his smile against yours. “Thank you for being so gentle..”

The corners of his eyes creased as he brought his hand up to the side of your face. Brushing a few beads of sweat from your hairline, he kissed the tip of your nose, then connected his lips to yours again. “Thank you for trusting me, sweetheart.” Sharing another tender kiss, he propped himself up on his elbows, his fingers finding their way into your hair, “how are you feeling?”

Smiling again, you admitted, “good..” a soft laugh accentuating your words, “full..”

A surge of adrenaline rushed through him at the mention of his size, still buried deep within you, as he leaned down and kissed your lips feverishly. As he finally came around, the lust clouding his mind fading into the background, he laughed lightly. After gathering his thoughts for a moment, you could hear the concern in his voice, “did I hurt you?”

Shaking your head, your hand caressed his cheek once more, “no, Aaron. Quite the opposite actually..”

He smiled at that, a blush creeping onto his face as he placed a loving kiss against your forehead, “okay, good.. that’s good.”

“And..” your voice trailed off, a sudden wave of nerves crashing over you as you thought about what you’d done, or rather the lack of what you’d done, “you? I didn’t do much..”

“No, no, sweetheart,” he cut your train of thought short before it had a chance to fester in your mind, “you did so well.. it was good for me too. So good..”

Letting out a deep breath through parted lips, you smiled up at him, a soft nod letting him know that you’d understood. Sharing one more tender kiss, he ran his thumb across your cheek gently, “I’m going to go grab some water, okay?”

Nodding your head again, you mentally prepared for the inevitable movement of his hips, the loss of contact between your bodies. Now that you had him inside you, you didn’t want to feel anything except it; you didn’t want him to move.

But that moment would come whether you liked it or not, and as expected, he was just as gentle as he had been when pressing into you. With a tender kiss against your lips to distract you from any potential discomfort, he slowly and carefully pulled his hips away from yours, swallowing your groan at the loss.

Separating his lips from yours, he smiled down at you, before pecking your nose once more. “I’ll be right back,” he cooed.

A quiet, “okay,” was all you could muster, as you watched him climb out of bed. You smiled to yourself as your eyes trailed across his broad shoulders, down the curve of his back, and finally to the way his butt jiggled as he walked.

Collapsing back against the sheets once more, you stared up at the ceiling, your hands covering your face yet again. Letting out a soft giggle, you sighed deep, feeling the way your body ached wondrously; you could still feel him.

In no time he was back, condom disposed of, a glass of water in one hand and a damp hand towel in the other. You couldn’t help but smile warmly at him as he sat on the bed beside you. Taking a quick sip of water from the glass, he passed it to you and you eagerly grasped it, taking a large gulp of water; you hadn’t realized just how thirsty you were. He couldn’t help but smile at the innocence of it, the way you graciously accepted the gesture, before looking up at him and smiling yourself.

Taking the glass from you and setting it on the bedside table, his eyes trailed across your body once more. He spoke softly, “are you okay if I..”

You nodded your head, knowing what he was going to ask, “yes Aaron, thank you.”

Smiling back at you, he spread the hand towel across his palm before shuffling a bit closer. Reaching his hand out slowly, he carefully caressed your core, the warmth from the water soothing any remaining ache you felt in your body. When he was finished, you thanked him, and he leaned forward to place another kiss against your lips.

As he pulled his boxers back on, you excused yourself to the bathroom; a UTI was not what you wanted to remember from your first time. As you made your way back out into your bedroom, you saw him sitting on the edge of your bed, a clean pair of underwear from your drawer in his hand. Smiling softly at him, you made your way across the space as he reached his hand out to you and you picked up the material from his grasp. “Thank you,” you murmured.

A quiet, “you’re welcome,” fell off his lips, as he watched you pull the material into place.

Reaching his hands out to you, he pulled you into his lap, your legs straddling him effortlessly. As you settled into place, your arms around his shoulders, you spoke once more, “when I was in the bathroom, I uhh, I noticed I was still wearing my bra.” He smiled softly at your observation. “I’m sorry.. you didn’t get to see..”

He shook his head, “it’s okay,” his knuckles gently brushing against your cheek, “next time.”

Letting out a slow breath, you leaned forward and kissed him gently. Next time. Those words rang in your ears like a song you couldn’t get out of your head, over and over and over. “Okay,” you whispered against his lips. After a quiet moment you asked playfully, “let’s order in?”

Nodding his head, he agreed, “that sounds good.”

As you tried to stand up, he tightened his grasp on your hips, keeping you in his lap. That’s when he opened his mouth as if to say something, before deciding against it.

A smile pulled at the corner of your lips, as you asked gently, “what is it?”

A flustered smile graced his lips, as he dropped his head, contemplating how to articulate what he was thinking. And in a split second, almost like his mind decided to just jump into the deep end, he blurted out, "you know at the wedding?” He finally looked up at you, “when you were waiting in line to get a drink, and I asked you to excuse me for a minute?"

You nodded your head, unsure of why he was bringing up that moment specifically; at the time you hadn’t thought much of it.

"Well I..” he trailed off again, the encouraging smile on your face giving him the push he needed, “I was imaging.. this..” Your eyes softened as realization washed over you. “Everything we just did.”

Tightening your arms around him, you held him close as you felt his hands slide along your back. Holding your gaze with his, he admitted quietly, “I couldn't stand seeing you so hurt. So lonely. So defeated. Especially when I felt the way I did for you. The way I.. do.. feel for you.”

Breathing deep, your lip quivered ever so slightly as his words settled deep in your chest. “I wanted to whisk you away. Show you that you are worthy of this. All of it. Of being held, and cherished, and loved. I wanted to show you that I could give it all to you. Because I’ve..” his voice broke slightly, as you brought a hand up to the side of his face, cupping his cheek lovingly. “I have loved you.. for a very.. long time. I have wanted this.. for a very.. long time.”

As a strange mix of emotions welled up inside you, one thing was clear. You knew the man before you was someone you wanted to have by your side for the rest of your life. Blinking slowly, you felt a single tear escape the corner of your eye, and roll down your cheek agonizingly slow.

Leaning forward, he kissed your cheek, stopping the tear where it stood, before trailing soft kisses closer and closer to your lips. He stopped right before your lips met, giving you the perfect opportunity to speak once more, “you are an incredible man, Aaron Hotchner, and I will continue to love you for the rest of my life,” before he finally connecting his lips to yours.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Tag List: @ssamorganhotchner ; @ccristata ; @anlin2058 ; @sannunah28 ; @hotchgirlsummer ; @red-red-rogue ; @chibsytelford ; @hannahufflepuff ; @mrs-ssa-hotch ; @ivyflowers13 ; @rousethemouse ; @emobabeyy ; @yourdryadwife ; @boredelle ; @overtrred28

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[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Reader Instagram AU

Liked by jackharlow, yourbestiename, urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, and 9,567,356 others

yourusername Mama is out tonight 😜🤭 😈 Celebrating Grammy weekend 📸 by my hubby jackharlow

View all 1,900 comments

jackharlow My mama 😮‍💨🥵

yourusername Always bubs 🤞🏼😘🫶🏻

urbanwyatt My job 🤦🏼‍♂️ 📸

jackharlow Well you’re not around. I did good though right?

yourusername LMAAOOO you did babe, if not I wouldn’t have posted them.

yourbestiename Damn hottie 🔥 🔥 pick me up!!!

druski2funnny No, what your ass needs to do is be with your husband.

yourbestiename STFU, you wanted drama, you got it.

neelamthadhani 😍😍😍😍 babes you’re hot

•

Liked by yourusername, druski2funnny, urbanwyatt, nemoachida, and 7,456,356 others

jackharlow Ready for whatever tonight brings, wether it’s another baby, some backseat loving, BRING IT!!!! 📸 by my sexy wife yourusername

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yourusername JACKMAN!!!!!! No babies anytime soon. Backseat loving? Always 🤭

jackharlow Oh I’ll take that 🤪😜

druski2funnny FREAKS

druski2funnny But can I watch?

jackharlow NOOO

druski2funnny See now you’re just being mean, what happened to us being life partners?

yourusername When I get tired of him, I’ll send him your way.

druski2funnny Got it, you’re the best

jackharlow Do I have a say in this.

yourusername NO

druski2funnny NOPE

•

Liked by jackharlow, neelamthadhani, urbanwyatt, princeroyce, and 8,567,356 others

yourusername He doesn’t even know what I’m singing half of the time, but he’s my number one hype man 🥺🤞🏼

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yourbestiename Love to see it 💜

claybornharlow Acting like a damn fool all night long 🙄

yourusername That’s how I love him🫶🏻😜

jackharlow For life baby 😍😘💜

yourusername And beyond that 🫶🏻🥺

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, yourusername, djdrama, nemoachida, and 8,678,345 others

jackharlow Matching with my girls 💚

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yourusername 😘😘😘 We love you

neelamthadhani Aww

urbanwyatt Don’t say aww, Mia was crying because you kept trying to carry her 💀

druski2funnny Mia knows 😉 lmaooo

neelamthadhani Knows what?

druski2funnny That you’re annoying lmao

yourusername Now hold up, don’t be using my baby as an excuse 🤦🏻‍♀️😩😭😭😭😭

urbanwyatt Was she not crying when Nee tried carrying her?

yourusername Yes

urbanwyatt Ok so there you have it

neelamthadhani To be fair, she only likes going with her parents.

claybornharlow Not true, she loves when I carry her

neelamthadhani Whatever she still loves me

druski2funnny Does she though? This is the fifth time I hear she cries when you try to hold her

neelamthadhani DRU MIND YOUR BUSINESS

•

Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, neelamthadhani, yourbestiename, and 7,556,345 others

yourusername Last night we celebrated my husband, I’m just so proud of the man he is. 2022 was definitely his year and this year will be 100xs better. Tonight you’ll win a Grammy- yes I said you WILL!!!!! There’s no one else who deserves it more, I’m putting it out into the universe and I know your fans are as well. He’s been stressed, so I booked us a couples massage and I was going to let him just relax for the day but he said he rather be with the kids until it’s time to get ready!!!!! AHHHHHH MY BABY IS A GRAMMY NOMINEE AND HES GONNA TAKE THEM ALL HOME 🙏🏻 also ummm why do y’all have him sitting next to that girl? 🙄 ANYWHOOO, goodluck bubs, I’m so proud of you and I’ll always be. I love you 💕

View all 1,700 comments

jackharlow 🥹🥹 Baby…….

jackharlow Don’t get me started now 😢 I fucking love you. Thank you for always having my back. For reassuring me whenever I don’t make it home in time due to work. Thank you for the best kids ever. Thank you for loving me, but most of all, thank you for riding this out with me and never second guessing our relationship. I love you mamas 😘

urbanwyatt ❤️

druski2funnny I guess he’s alright

yourusername He’s more than alright 🤪

yourbestiename Fam 🤍 I love you guys. Goodluck Jack 🙏🏻

neelamthadhani ❣️❣️❣️❣️couldn’t have said it any better!!!!! Tonight’s gonna be a good day!!!!!!

claybornharlow Idk who’s more nervous, your or him???? But good luck brother, I know you’ll win them all ❤️‍🔥

jackharlow Thank you. She’s more nervous though, I have to stop her from shaking her legs and playing with her ring

yourusername 😭😭😭😭😭 I’m just so excited and happy for you babe

druski2funnny What happens if he doesn’t win?

yourusername HE GETS TO PUT A BABY INSIDE ME!!!!!

urbanwyatt A couple of posts ago you said no babies, now you’re saying yes to him???

jackharlow 🤪🤪🤪🤪🤪

•

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux

@harlowsbby

@arination99

@cmalass

@jackharloww

@minkookie95

@deannaard

@jacksmoviestar

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@itsyagirljaz

#jack harlow #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x yn #instagram au #baby harlow #jackman thomas harlow #jack harlow fanfiction

[itgetsdark-x]

Hi💗 Love all your works sm😭.You are so freaking talented 😍😍🥲💘

I would like to read a therapeutic smut with our curly bf Javi 🤭 ( requester is trying to have no shame lol) .

Ok, javi gutierrez/his gf reader where reader is anxious about her upcoming project. They have a small talk about her anxiety. Javi is trying his best to support her. Then reader admits that she craves for being comforted sometimes. ( daddy issues caused the lack of confidence👀) . So mention of daddy issues, then it all somehow turns into: thigh riding, praise kink,dirty talk, daddy kink and forehead kisses 🥺, oral (f/m receiving or both 💀), p in v 😗.

The whole vibe is supporting gf turns into hot dom/sub 🫂=>🥵

It's just a request and I do it for the first time. So I hope I didn't get carried away too much🥴. Anyway, waiting for your reply.

Have a nice day💕x

P. S. If u like the idea u could name it "Skinny-dip inside your mind" ( the quote from Lana's new album). If u would like to ofc ✨💗🤗 ok bye x

A/N: okay, this request really spoke to my all my mommy/ daddy issues and I couldn’t resist. I love how detailed you made it and I just hope it lives up to your expectations lol. thank you so much for taking the time to send in a request and for the kind words! I’m sorry it took a lil while!

Summary: Javi had always been the most perfect boyfriend; he was attentive, loving and nothing ever seemed like it was too much for you. He knew you were struggling mentally recently and knew exactly what you needed to feel better.

Characters: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Warnings: 18+, minors dni!, mentions of parental death, daddy issues, mentions of anxiety / mental health issues, daddy kink, praise kink, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving), mutual masturbation. (Probs other stuff, it’s mainly just smut lol, you have been warned)

Word Count: 4.3k

You slammed the lid of your laptop down and collapsed your aching head into your crossed arms. You slowly allowed yourself to cry and within minutes, you were sobbing into your arms, you were so wrapped up in your own feelings that you hadn’t heard Javi, your boyfriend, come home. 

“Mi amor,” he frowned, rushing to sit beside you at the kitchen table. He quickly wrapped a strong arm around you and stroked through your hair affectionately. “What’s happened? Who has made you feel this way?” He asked, his voice concerned. 

“J-Javi” you sobbed, lifting your head to peer at your boyfriend with red, streaming eyes. “W-work. It’s just, this stupid project and article I need to write. If I don’t have it ready and completed by the end of the week, it’s going to be a disaster. I have to get the shoot finalised and I just know it’s going to go all wrong because I’m useless.” You sobbed, your voice coming out as wrecked cries. 

Javi frowned at you, as his fingers stroked through your hair still, just trying to offer a small glimmer of comfort to you as you cried. Your body shook as you sat there, you took a moment to try and focus on your breathing but you could already feel your chest tightening and your breaths got more shallow and speedy. 

“Baby,” He whispered. “Come on, look at me. Look at me, that’s it.” He cooed softly as you looked at him, your eyes were still streaming with tears but the panic was evident in them now as you struggled to suck in a breath. “Breathe for me, hermosa. That’s it, take a deep breath. Do it with me.” He instructed and placed a soft hand to your heaving chest as he helped you take in a deep breath. 

You shut your eyes and listened to your boyfriend’s voice, you did as he instructed and soon, your breathing returned to normal and you calmed down a little. You rarely let Javi see you like this, if you were going to have a panic attack or cry, you would excuse yourself and deal with it alone as you didn’t feel he deserved to have to see you like this. Still, there were some occasions where you couldn’t stop it. 

“I’m sorry…” you mumbled, grabbing your laptop and opening it once again to deflect from having to look at a concerned Javi. 

His fingers gently pried the laptop from your grasp and he quickly closed it down, sliding it away from you. You tried to take it back but Javi shook his head no and stroked your cheek gently. 

“No, I’m sorry, mi amor. You’re done working for the day, it’ll still be there tomorrow and I can help plan some things for the shoot for you. I have my contacts and you should take advantage of that.”

You shook your head no, and immediately you felt the panic rising in your throat like a poisonous acid; you needed to work, you needed to get it all right and the fact that you weren’t in control had you spiralling again. 

“Speak to me, my love. Please. Just… I’ve not seen you like this for a while. Speak to me.” He whispered. 

“Javi…” you sighed. “This project at work is major, it’s my first time being in charge of a whole shoot and feature. I need to nail it, and, and I just feel like I’m not doing that. I feel like it’s going all wrong and suddenly, I’m twelve again and my dad is yelling at me for doing everything wrong.” You rambled, your voice raising at the end.

You had stood from the kitchen table and you were now pacing the length of it, your arms were wrapped around your waist, trying to comfort yourself as you spoke. You shared everything with Javi; your hopes, your dreams, what you want exactly from life but for some reason, you hadn’t ever spoken about your dad. It was a tough subject for you to bring up and you dreaded it every having to be spoken about. 

“Your father?” Javi asked, he turned in his seat and watched you pace the room; he knew better than to stop you. “You never speak about your father…” he mumbled. 

“Yeah,” you laughed bitterly. “There’s a reason for that.” You shrugged, not giving your boyfriend much to work on. 

Javi didn’t move, he watched you and waited silently; he knew how your brain worked and if he kept quiet he knew you would soon spill the beans, more so than if he questioned you at every corner. 

“As you know, my mom passed away when I was around four years old, well, it broke my dad, of course it did. And well, because of that he was pretty absent whilst I was growing up… Absent besides the times he would yell at me, he blamed me for mom’s death and said that it should have been me that died, not her. He said that if I wasn’t born then mom wouldn’t have turned to drugs as a comfort.” You recalled painfully as tears slowly trickled down your face. 

“Cariño, we both know that isn’t true. Your dad just needed someone to blame, I’m sorry.” Javi sighed sadly, he wished he could take every ounce of pain from you so you never had to feel it. He was stood in front of you now and he held your face gently in his hands; he pressed a soft kiss to your lips and you near melted into his touch. “Why don’t you come and sit on the couch with me, just for a bit and maybe after dinner, if you feel better you could do a bit more work. Would that help?” 

You nodded slowly and allowed yourself to be led into the front room with Javi, he sat you down on the couch and closed the curtains behind you, knowing that you prefer to be in darker surroundings when you’re feeling anxious and sad. You couldn’t help but smile slightly as he fussed around you, he got you a glass of water and demanded you at least tried to drink half. You felt safe and comforted, it was something you always craved. 

“Thank you, Javi.” You sighed, your arm draped across his tummy as you cuddled into his side further. “You have no idea how much I crave to be comforted like this… I’ve never told you before because I didn’t want you to look at me differently, what with all my daddy issues.” You half joked. 

“I would never look at you differently. Never. I’ll always look after you, my beautiful girl.” He said softly and placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “I do worry about you though… I mean, I am so proud of you getting that promotion at work but it seems since your anxiety has been through the roof.”

You opened your mouth to protest, pretending you had no idea what he meant but Javi cut you off with a stern look. 

“Mi amor, I’m not a complete idiot… I’ve seen you sneaking off to cry, I’ve left you alone as you usually prefer to weather these storms by yourself, it’s killed me but I’ve been trying to do what I think you want. Maybe you should speak with work, maybe get some time off…” he said softly, his fingers stroking patterns on the bare skin of your legs. 

“You know I can’t do that… I can’t take time off but you’re right, I’ve been a mess lately. I’m sorry. It’s just… well, I didn’t tell you, clearly, but my dad messaged me the other day and said he wants to meet you. I keep him at a distance and rarely see him but he heard from another family member about our relationship and how I moved out to Spain to be with you and surprise, surprise, he now wants to be dad of the year.” You frowned, curling yourself into Javi’s side further, feeling his protective arm around you. 

“We can have him stay, only if you want to. If not, we don’t. It’s as simple as that, hermosa. You’re in charge here, okay?”

You nodded as your fingers lazily traced over the freckles on Javi’s arm, your mind was swimming with all the options of what could happen if you did or didn’t have your dad to stay, or what would happen with work if you opened up about the recent anxieties; you got caught up in your own head again and were only pulled out by Javi speaking once again. 

“You’re thinking too much…” he sighed. “Come here, mi amor. Let me take care of you.”

You looked up at Javi in confusion as you weren’t entirely sure what he meant but Javi gently pulled you into his lap and cupped either side of your face to pull you in for a kiss. It was soft, sensual and just the epitome of Javi; caring, smooth and safe. His soft lips pressed against yours and his tongue swiped along your lower lip, you gasped softly and he dipped his tongue into your mouth to deepen your kiss. He entangled his fingers into your hair to move you as he pleased, you allowed him, you were like a rag doll, moving as he wanted you to. 

“There,” he whispered against your lips. “Doesn’t that feel better?” 

You laughed softly and shrugged at him.

“I don’t know, I still feel pretty terrible.” You teased, wanting Javi to kiss you like that again. 

Of course he obliged, he pressed his mouth back to yours to give you another passionate kiss. His hands smoothed down the naked expanse of your arms and they landed on your exposed thighs, he toyed with the hem of your dress and you whined into the kiss. 

It had been a hot day so you were dressed in a pale blue sundress, Javi’s favourite and his own personal kryptonite. 

“You’re so beautiful, cariño, so breathtaking.” He complimented, reaching his head up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Drive me mad when you wear these pretty dresses, so gorgeous.”

You blushed at Javi’s words, with each compliment you could feel your cheeks glowing under his soft gaze. Javi peppered soft kisses to your neck, his plush lips sent sparks through your body and straight to your core. Before you realised what you were doing, you rocked your hips gently back and forth, searching for any contact against your clothed arousal. 

“Feeling a little needy, baby?” He cooed, his teeth grazing against your pulse point after whispering in your ear sensually. 

You nodded, a little embarrassed as your hips rocked back and forth. You made a small whimpering noise as Javi continued to kiss along your neck, only stopping to suck a small mark into your skin. 

“Shift over,” he instructed as he spread his legs further so you were straddling just one of his thighs. “That’s it, my sweet girl. Now, ride my thigh, hermosa. Make yourself feel good on my leg, like the needy little baby you are.” Javi smirked, looking at you with lust-blown eyes. 

You chewed on your lip as you slowly started to grind against Javi’s thigh, just a couple thin layers of fabric separating your pulsing clit and Javi’s skin. Your hips moved in slow circles, alternating between the soft little grinds and rubbing yourself back and forth on him rougher. Your mouth was parted as soft moans escaped from them, your arms were looped around Javi’s neck as you anchored yourself down to chase your high, greedily. 

“That’s it baby; you use me how you need me, need you to feel good. Tell me how it feels, please.” Javi gasped, watching your face contort with each moan that fell from your mouth. 

“Javi,” you sighed happily as your hips sped up, you could feel how slick you were with each move of your hips and you were sure you would be leaving a trail of your arousal behind on the beige linen of Javi’s shorts. “You feel so good, fuck. Needed this relief for so long, fuck, daddy.” You whimpered, too far gone to acknowledge the name. 

Javi’s eyes widened at the use of the pet name, you had never called him that before and he couldn’t deny the way his cock twitched in his pants. You were usually so reserved in bed, so timid and there you were, riding his thigh to chase your own release; looking so perfect. 

“Fuck, hermosa. Call me that again.” Javi groaned and held your hips roughly, making your grind down harder against his thigh. “Call me that as you cum.”

“W-what?” You mumbled before your brain clocked it and your cheeks heated up again. “Oh, I, um.” You whispered, slowing your movements as Javi controlled your hips. 

“Come on, my good girl. Call me it again, call me it and I’ll let you cum.” He encouraged. 

“Daddy.” you whispered, your voice coming out as a mere squeak. 

“Louder.” Javi’s hands gripped your hips tighter and slowed them down to soft grind which caused you to whine in frustration. 

“Daddy.” You said more confidently, wriggling your hips in his lap. 

“Good girl. So good for me.” He purred, his thick accent sending shivers through your body. 

Javi controlled your hips once more, speeding them up to allow you to chase your high; you were greedily there, letting your hips wriggle back and forth. It didn’t take long before you were gripping at Javi’s neck tightly and whimpering in his lap. 

You felt yourself get wetter as you came. “Fuck, daddy. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Feels so good.” You whined, your head lulling backwards as you chased your high. 

“Good girl, such a good girl for me. Now sit on the sofa and let me make you feel even better.” Javi purred, placing you on the couch so he could kneel between your legs on the floor. 

He decided against teasing you and instead pulled your panties off, tossing them to the side before dipping his head down to lap at your pussy. His expert tongue flicked over your swollen bud and then gently sucked at it, the suction of his lips had your whole body vibrating with pleasure and your fingers soon found their way into Javi’s soft brown locks. 

“Fuck, Javi.” You whimpered, shifting your body down to grind against the male’s face as he ate you out. 

Javi made a soft noise of appreciation against your wet heat, his tongue was working you with ease and within minutes you were falling apart at the seams, right on his face. He had you cursing and shaking all over again. 

He sat back, wiped his mouth and smiled up at you. He slowly stroked his hands up your bare thighs to pull your dress over your head, leaving you spent and naked for him to admire. Javi leant back onto his knees to fumble with the fastening on his shorts, you could see a large wet patch blooming on his thigh and your cheeks glowed as you knew that was from you. 

“You see that, baby girl.” Javi pointed at the darkened spot and you nodded in response. “Course you do, that’s from you. Is that how good I make you feel, sweet girl? Hm? Make you so wet you leave a patch behind when you cum. So hot.” Javi groaned.

He was drinking in your naked body, you drew your legs up to your chest and tried to cover yourself but the older male tutted and brought your legs down, spreading them so he could see you in all of your naked and aroused glory. He leant back again onto his knees and slowly freed his hard cock from his shorts, it sprung up and you could see beads of precum leaking from the tip. You absently licked your lips as you watched his hand stroke his length, your empty hole fluttered around air as you imagined your lover filling you up so deliciously. 

Javi clocked you, he could see you watching him and since he had already made you cum a couple of times, he thought it was the perfect time to tease you. He moaned as his hand passed over the tip of his cock and back down the shaft, he was moving slowly and he really ramped up his moans as he locked eyes with you. It was like a movie you couldn’t tear your eyes from, they would dart down to see Javi stroking himself before they would lock with his once again. 

You couldn’t help yourself, you were so turned on and you weren’t in control of your own body; your nimble fingers dipped down to stroke around your clit. You spread your legs further as you pleasured yourself, Javi smirked at you and nodded eagerly as your fingers sped up to match his own strokes. 

“That’s it, good girl.” He gasped, this person in front of him looked like you, looked like his girlfriend but your actions were so out there compared to your usually reserved-self. “Fuck, look at you, hermosa. Such a good girl for me, touching yourself cause you couldn’t even wait for me. So needy, aren’t you, my sweet little girl.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded softly at Javi; the room was filled with sounds of your heavy breaths and soft moans as your fingers slowly sank into yourself. You were driving your boyfriend made, he wanted to bury himself so deeply in you and stay there forever but he also couldn’t stop watching as you pleasured yourself. 

“This what you do when daddy isn’t around to touch you, princess?” Javi groaned, he slowed his hand down and squeezed his length roughly to stave off his want to cum. 

“Y-yeah…” you whined. “Feels so good daddy but nothing feels as good as your cock, I’ve tried everything but nothing feels as good.” You admitted with red cheeks. 

“Yeah? What have you tried, honey?” He cooed, smirking that you were so open. 

“Uhm,” you whimpered as your hips bucked up to your hand. “My hairbrush, I tried using the shower head and I’ve tried humping everything; the sofa, my pillow one of my stuffed animals but nothing ever feels as good.”

Javi couldn’t help but bark out a laugh, it was dark and condescending and it made you feel even needier for the male. 

“Aw, my poor little baby. Humping everything like a little mutt. That why you rode my thigh earlier?” His voice was deep and lustful, it was the perfect mix of condscnedation and love. 

You nodded, tears pricking at your eyes with embarrassment as you admitted it to your boyfriend. He would often be away on work trips and you recalled in your mind all those nights that were so lonely and you were so empty. You craved your boyfriends touch, and his approval even more. 

“Being such a good girl for me now.” Javi groaned, finally pulling his hand off of his cock. He removed his shirt and stood to fully take his shorts off. 

Your eyes followed your boyfriend, your fingers still circled your swollen and sensitive clit, you could feel your orgasm impending quicker and quicker. 

“Javi,” you whimpered. “I-I’m gonna cum, please let me cum.” 

“Call me by my proper name, baby girl. Then you can cum.” He hissed, he gently wrapped a hand around your throat so his fingers and thumb were pressing on your pulse points. 

He restricted your throat just enough to make your head feel floaty and that’s what you needed to push you over the edge. Your mouth open in a silent moon as you tried to speak. 

“Daddy. Fuck.” You breathed, cursing him. 

Javi smiled down at you as your fingers stopped moving and your thighs shook roughly; he kissed your forehead gently and stroked your cheek after he released your throat. 

“Good girl. So good for me. How do you want to take me?” He whispered, his hand cupping at your cheeks gently so his thumb could stroke the soft skin there. 

You shrugged at him, feeling far too fucked out already. “I-I don’t mind.” You whispered. “Just want you, please.”

Javi made a humming noise of appreciation and he pressed another kiss to your forehead affectionately. “Okay, my love, lay down for me and I’ll give you daddies cock. Hm, is that okay with you? That what you want?”

You made a soft whining noise, you knew Javi’s cock would sting as he stretched you out and you couldn’t wait but you were already feeling over-sensitive so you knew you wouldn’t be able to last long. You laid down on the large sofa, your back leant up against the arm of the sofa with a cushion behind you and Javi positioned himself between your legs, he gently held onto one of your thighs for leverage as he positioned himself to your hole. 

“God, you’re so wet and tight for me, hermosa.” He groaned as he gently pressed himself into your vagina. Your eyes screwed shut at the sting of stretching around his member and Javi shushed you, he kissed your forehead once again before he started a slow pace. 

Javi squeezed at the flesh of your leg, you were perfect for him and he could live buried deep in you forever if it was possible. He rolled his hips sensually and with every thrust of his cock, he deliciously pleasure your g-spot. It was intense and your body shook with the pleasure of it all. 

“Daddy, you feel so good. You fill me up so well.” You whimpered, your soft hands grabbing at Javi’s back desperately as you clenched around his cock. 

“So do you, my sweet girl. Perfect little cocksleeve for me, made just for daddy. Isn’t that right?” He cooed. 

You nodded and Javi sped his hips up, he’d had enough of teasing himself and now he was chasing his high greedily. You laid there and took him, obscene moans and curse words tumbled from your lips like a free-flowing stream. You were a goner, so close to cumming around your boyfriend you wouldn’t have been able to stop it if you tried. 

Your walls fluttered and clenched around Javi’s member as you came; you felt it get wetter between the two of you and your whole body shook with the intensity, tears rolling down your cheeks as Javi kept up his punishing pace. 

“Good girl. Good. Fucking. Girl.” Javi groaned, holding your hips for better leverage as he fucked into you with fervour. 

It didn’t take Javi long to get there, soon his hips were stuttering to a stop before he quickly pulled out of you. He stroked himself once, twice and on the third time, he awkwardly leant over to spill his hot cum on your tits. You opened your mouth to catch a few stray spurts on your outstretched tongue as Javi praised you, fucking his fist as he painted your skin. 

Javi fell back onto the sofa with a groan, your laboured breaths filled the empty room as your tried to regain some composure. 

“Fuck me.” You laughed, flopping an arm over your face in exhaustion.

“Just did, cariño.” Javi laughed, not wasting a second to go and grab a damp cloth to clean you up with. He wiped at you gently and you hissed as the cool cloth hit your sweaty skin. 

Javi returned after throwing the cloth into the wash and sat on the sofa next to you, he took your legs and draped them over your lap so he could stroke softly at your bare skin. 

“That…” he breathed. “That was amazing but uh, do you wanna talk about it at all? It was different for us… amazing but different and I hope you’re okay.”

Your eyes were still closed, you were bathing in your post-orgasmic glow and Javi’s words had you crushing back down to earth. 

“Javi,” you whined as a warning. “Can we not… you found out a lot about me today, maybe pack it away and save that conversation for another day? I’m okay though, thank you for asking. I love you a lot…”

He lifted your leg and kissed it softly, he knew not to push you otherwise you would just withdraw into yourself further which wouldn’t help anyone. 

“Fine, fine. I love you more, hermosa. You’re my world. Whatever you need, or whatever you want from me, I’m here for you.” He rambled until you sat up and gently pushed his shoulder. 

“Shut up and kiss me, you idiot.” You laughed and brought your boyfriend in for a gentle kiss, he smiled against your lips before you laid back down on the sofa and pulled a blanket over your naked body. “Now, I think you promised me dinner? How about your famous risotto?” You grinned. 

Javi rolled his eyes affectionately and stood, wrapping the blanket around you tighter and handing you the tv remote. 

“Anything for you, mi amor. Now, you relax here, cariño and I’ll make us some dinner.” Javi smiled, ducking his head down to kiss your forehead before he disappeared into the kitchen. 

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#javi g x reader #javi gutierrez #javi gutierrez x reader #javi g x you #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfictions #anon request

[munsonownsmyass]

Frank Castle x OFC! Abigail Miller

Summary: After his first visit, Frank comes to town more often. As the days go by, him and Abby get closer.

Notes: Still just some good ol' pining for this one folks. It's a slowburn, I'm sorry 😆

But we get way more Frank in this one and some not so pure thoughts. But really... who could have pure thoughts around Frank Castle? 🥵

There's also a little nod to Matt Murdock in here 🤭

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Words: 3.3K

Part 1 - Masterlist - Part 3

Two weeks. It had been exactly two weeks since Abby had last seen Frank. Some days she caught herself looking at the door, hoping he would walk through.

Which in itself is really silly. First of all, Mildred said he rarely comes to town, always keeping to himself. Secondly, she had barely talked to him. So why did she think about him?

Well, she had to admit his eyes were kinda pretty. Okay, they were downright beautiful. And thinking about it, his lips were kinda plump and… really kissable.

God, was she really thirsting over a man she barely knew? It really had been too long since she had gotten laid. And how old was he anyway? Definitely older than her, but the beard probably made him look older than he actually was. Abby shakes her head, finishing putting some freshly baked muffins in the display.

Thankfully it’s a slow day, so Abby has lots of time to do some much-needed chores around the store. Browse for new recipes, put the delivered goods in the cooler or storage. Just as she puts the empty boxes away in the backroom, she hears the bell from the door.

“I’ll be there in a sec” she yells cheerfully. When Abby re-enters the store, she sees him. Frank Castle. Well, you know what they say. Speak of the devil and all that. Without thinking, she instantly smooths down the folds of her apron, before she walks towards him.

“Mr. Castle, what can I do for you today?”

“I wanted some more bread. And maybe some cookies too.”

“You came to the right place then.” she smiles softly, hoping he takes no offence by the playful tone to her voice. She walks towards the counter, gesturing to the selection she has, waiting for his order. When he walks closer, she is reminded of just how tall he is. And broad. God, he is broad.

She forces a smile, looking up at Frank with an innocent face, like she didn’t just think about him. “So what tickles your fancy?”

He doesn’t answer, just looks at her with an intense gaze. His eyes trailing down her body and up again, where they once again meet hers. Abby suddenly feels shy, strangely exposed under his gaze.

“Do you have more of that corn loaf?” He asks, his deep voice calm and soft.

Surprised, Abby’s lips quirk up into a smile. Figures he would be a man of habits. “The same bread again, Mr. Castle? You don’t want to try something new?”

“Just call me Frank.”

A sudden warm feeling washes over her at the prospect of getting to know Frank better. It’s not much, but it’s a start.

“I do have one left.” Abby says softly, as she walks to the bread and put it in a bag. As she types the order into the register, Frank just looks at her, studying her quietly. Once she had added the cookies, she looks at him again. Not wanting him to go yet, but still not wanting to push too much, she gestures towards the coffee machine.

“You want a cup of coffee before you go?”

“No.” He says a bit too hard. He frowns quickly before his face turns softer. “No, thank you.”

It’s strange, as if he’s been alone for so long that he’s forgotten how to interact with people. Abby doesn't mind, though, but the thought makes her sad, makes her wonder why he keeps to himself.

He lingers for a moment, looking to the display, before his eyes find hers again. “You don’t have any red velvet cupcakes?”

 “No, but I can make you some.” Abby smiles softly, suddenly eyeing an opportunity. “If you leave your number, I can call you when they’re done?“

Frank nods softly, taking one of the notepads on the counter. As he scribbles down his number, Abby notices how small the ballpen is in his hand, how small the notepad is against the other. God, his hands are huge. Just like the rest of him. Before she can stop herself, Abby looks him up and down, before scolding herself. Down girl. She doesn’t even know him yet. And even if she did, she wouldn’t know what to do, hopeless around men. Truth be told, she’d never had a serious relationship, always been a little shy. Or she just never found the right one. But… Doesn’t hurt to look, does it?

She forces herself to look away, biting her lip in shame.

Frank hands her the block, before he puts his hands back into the pocket of his coat. Silence falls between them. Abby fidgets with the block, while Frank looks at her. He opens his mouth, as if he’s gonna say something, but no words come out. He looks away, nods and turns towards the door.

“Have a nice day, Frank.”

He gives her a quick wave and leaves the store. Abby looks after him until he reaches his car, wondering what he wanted to say. She looks at the block in her hand, smiling, before she returns to her chores.

The next day, Abby and Mildred are sitting in the couch area, when Mildred spots something outside.

“Well, will you look at that? Frank is in town again. Twice in one month.” She takes a sip of her coffee, her eyes following him as he walks towards the shop. “Don’t think that has ever happened before.”

“Actually…” Abby starts softly, biting her bottom lip. Mildred looks at her, scotching closer. “He was here yesterday.”

Mildred looks at Abby softly, raising her brow, as a shit eating grin spreads on her face. “Hmm… I wonder what’s suddenly causing him to visit more.”

She nudges Abby’s shoulder playfully, before she puts her cup down, walking towards the back room.

“What are you doing?” Abby asks, confused.

“Leaving you alone with him.” Mildred blinks, before she disappears behind the kitchen door, just in time for Frank to enter the shop. Abby turns to face him, a blush slowly creeping up her cheeks. Frank walks towards her slowly, a faint smile on his lips.

Huh. A smile. Would you look at that? Abby can’t help but imagine how he would look with a full-on smile, how it would light up his face.

“I was wondering if my cakes were ready. Was heading to town anyways, so…”

“Oh, yeah. I… I was just about to call you, actually.” She smiles softly, fighting the urge to smile too much. Mildred couldn’t be right, could she?

Abby gets up to get his cakes, already packed up nicely in a little box. As she hands him the box, he has a faint smile on his face, his features softening ever so slightly. Looking softer, he’s not that intimidating. Sure, the hair was a little long, and that beard could use a little trim, too. But it really wasn’t that bad.

As he walks to the door, Abby softly wishes him a good day, even though he never reciprocates. Frank stops in the door, looking out into the street, before he looks back at her. His brown eyes are soft, as they look into her green ones.

“Have a nice day” he says quickly, before lowering his gaze and walking out the store.

Once outside, he looks through the window, but when he sees Abby watching, he blushes and looks away. As Frank walks to his car, Mildred comes out of the backroom, practically snickering. She puts her arm around Abby, a wide smile on her face.

“That is something I never thought I would see. You got more than 5 words out of him. He must like you.”

She gives Abby a little squeeze, before she returns to her coffee, already talking about the county fair, even though it’s still a month away. But Abby’s mind is still on Frank. He couldn’t possibly like her, could he?

She shakes her head, walking over to Mildred, trying not to smile too much.

The next few weeks flew by. Frank had come into the shop 3 more times. Once to pick up more cookies and twice for… Well, Abby wasn’t sure. He said he just wanted coffee, but the coffee couldn’t be that good, could it?

He was still very quiet, not talking much at all. A few sentences here and there, but one thing she noticed was his voice. He sounded warmer, more comfortable. Even his body language changes. He looks more relaxed, the tension gone from his shoulders, as he sits on the couch, enjoying a coffee while looking at the small bookshelves.

One day he casually mentioned he was reading Moby Dick as he was browsing through her collection of classics. It was nice to know they had that in common.

Sometimes they don’t even talk at all, just relax in each other’s company. Every so often, Abby would look up as she’s finishing up a cake, only to find Frank’s eyes already on her. And for every sweet smile she gave him, he would give one in return.

The bell to the shop rings. When Abby looks up, she is in shock for a second. Frank is there and in his hand is a bouquet of Gerber Daisies. Smiling widely, surprised by his gesture, she takes the flowers from him. “What is this for?”

“The shop's three-month anniversary.” His voice soft and… nervous? No, she must be mistaken. “It’s from my garden.” He continues softly, looking at her. Abby is one big smile, as she finds an empty vase and pour some water in. Once the flowers are in, she puts it right on the counter.

He couldn’t have picked a better flower, the Gerber Daisy being one of her favorites. She had always loved colors and could remember how her dad would always bring her mother a bouquet every Friday, filled with Gerber Daisies in all the colors the florist had.

“It… It reminded me of you.” He says softly, a gentleness to his voice that almost makes her heart ache.

“How so?” Abby asks softly, almost certain her face was flushed red at this point.

“You’re colorful.” He huffs softly, before looking down at his hands. With a shrug of his shoulders, he looks up into her eyes again. But before he can say anything, they’re interrupted by Mr. Peterson, the guy who owned the flower shop next door.

“Hello Miss Miller. Here with your flowers.”

When he sees Frank, he instantly smiles wider. “Mr. Castle, it’s such a pleasure you’ve been coming to town more.”

Frank nods and smiles, before he walks to the door in a hurry. Mr. Peterson just shrugs it off, before he begins replacing the flowers around the shop.

Abby looks down at the Daisies, gently taking one of the petals between her fingertips. So he thinks about her, huh? A warm feeling runs through her, her heart beating faster. Abby wondered what he was about to say, when they got interrupted? God, she wishes she knew.

Still caressing the soft petal, she barely hears when Mr. Peterson speaks to her. “I’m sorry, Mr. Peterson. What?”

“Just said I was done, Dear. Have a good day.” He looks at her hand, before shooting her a knowing smile. He snickers softly as he leaves the store. Great, now that’ll be all over town. But somehow, she really doesn’t care. She turns to the flowers again and then notices something on the counter. A wallet.

Confused, she picks it up and looks for an ID. A huge grin spreads as she reads the name. Francis Cast-… Castiglione? Italian? And a Francis, huh? Curious, she reads the rest. His address, birthday and… Wait… His birthday was only a few days away. Should she…? No, that would be crazy, wouldn’t it? He would probably hate it if she did anything.

If he wanted to celebrate his birthday, he would say so, right? But maybe he didn’t say anything because-

Before she can finish the thought, some customers walk in. As she helps them pick out some cakes, Frank comes back. He sees his wallet and gestures to Abby that he found it, before leaving again.

A week later, Abby is sitting in her car, heading down a small forest road. This was probably crazy, but she really wanted to do something nice for Frank.

The last few months they had gotten closer and dared she think, had become friends? And friends didn’t let another friend be alone on their birthday.

Finally, after 4 wrong turns and 50 checks to many with the GPS, Abby finally pulls into the driveway. As she looks around, she is at a loss for words. The cabin is beautiful, taken straight out of a travel magazine. Beautiful wood and stones, perfectly matched, looking gorgeous against the green of the woods. Near the treeline, there are huge stacks of lumber.

The whole place is really quiet, peaceful. She gets why Frank loves it up here.

From a small gap in the trees, Frank emerges, followed by two pitbulls. When he sees Abby, he drops his axe on a log and walks towards her car, a frown on his face.

Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea. As he strides towards her car, she braces herself. Ready to be scolded, told to fuck off. She slowly exits the car, smiling gently at Frank.

“What are you doing here?”

She can’t quite decipher his expression. A mixture of anger and shock is painted on his face. Maybe even panic. Abby gets it. She’s probably the first one up here in years, maybe ever. “Sorry, I… It’s your birthday, so I wanted to-”

“How do you know?” He demands, looking into her eyes, confusion written all over his face.

“I… I looked in your wallet. To see who left it.” She bites her lip, looking at the ground like a scolded child. When she looks back up into his eyes, his expression has softened.

“Sorry, I… I never have visitors.”

“And now I see why.” Abby smiles nervously, gesturing towards his intimidating posture. Frank instantly relaxes.

A small wine comes from behind him, and they both look at the dogs, sitting nicely, waiting to be called over. Frank whistles and the dogs rush to Abby, almost knocking her over. She’s always loved dogs, grew up with them and had actually been thinking about adopting one after she moved out here.

“Easy boy.” Frank says softly to the eager dark one. God, his deep rich voice always makes her heart flutter.

“They’re cute. What’s their names?” Abby asks curiously, her eyes never leaving the dogs. Always been a dog person, maybe even liking them more than humans. Dogs are honest, their emotions and intentions always clear. She liked that.

“This guy is Max.” He points to the dark grey Pitbull, before turning to the red one. “And this little boy is… Red.”

Frank shuffles slightly, scratching the back of his head, as he looks down at the two of them. “Max I rescued, and Red I got at a shelter. Named after someone I knew years ago.”

He smiles softly as he pats squats down and pat the young Pitbull’s head. Abby couldn’t help but wonder who this person was. Must’ve have meant something to Frank. Abby stands again, brushing the dirt and dog hairs of her fingers. Suddenly nervous, she smoothed down her dress, before gesturing towards her car. “I actually brought you something.”

Abby excitedly opens the door, pulling out the cake and a present. Her smile falls slightly, when she sees his face. Abby was expecting him to be surprised, but she never would have expected this.

He looks overwhelmed, like he can’t believe what is happening. Abby’s heart clenches at the thought. How long had it been since anyone had done anything like this for him?

He gestures for her to follow, leading her to the backyard. While he goes inside to get plates, Abby sits down in a lounge chair. She didn’t know what she expected his place to look like, but it wasn’t quite this. New stylish furniture that complimented the wood of the cabin. It was all very clean and minimalistic, but still somehow had soul. She looks towards the terrace door, dying to know what it looks like on the inside. Maybe next time.

Frank comes back with a tray, holding plates, cups and a teapot. But that’s not what has caught Abby’s attention.

While inside, Frank has taken his jacket off and holy fuck. Abby had never seen arms as his, suddenly feeling her throat dry up. Toned muscular arms, flexed, so thick. And God, the shirt. Until now, she had only seen him with a jacket or sweatshirt on, never really knowing what kind of body was underneath. But now, as his tight t-shirt clings to him slightly damp skin, nothing is left to imagination. A broad, muscular chest. Nipples perked in the cool afternoon air. Abs dancing under the thin fabric. She bites her lip, wondering what he would look like without it, sweat dripping down his chest as he chops wood?

It takes every ounce of willpower for Abby to look away, before she gets caught. Her head now filled with images she wouldn’t forget anytime soon, she clears her throat, pushing the cake towards Frank.

“I… I-“ she coughs, stumbling over her words. Damn, how could he affect her so much without even doing anything. “I didn’t know what flavor you liked, so I made carrot cake.”

“Well, lucky for you I love cream cheese frosting.” A wide smile plays on his handsome features. Just when she didn’t think he could be any prettier, he smiles.

Frank carves them both a piece and then they eat in silence, looking out over his grounds. A big field of grass surrounded by trees. To one side, there’s a big greenhouse filled with plants and raised beds with herbs. To the other side there’s bushes with berries.

All over the yard there’s flowers, making it a colorful space. But closest to her, in many pots on the terrace, there’s Gerber Daisies. Just like the ones he gave her, in all colors of the rainbow. “This place is really wonderful, Frank.”

He just smiles and mutters a quiet thank you through a mouthful of cake. Abby giggles softly, the sight of Frank with his mouth full priceless, his cheeks filled out like a chipmunk. “So, I take it the cake was a hit?”

“Best damn cake I’ve had in years, sweetheart.”

She’s so damn easy. One ‘sweetheart’ leaves his lips and she’s a puddle. But to be fair, that voice of his is something else.

Abby gently pushes the present towards him. Frank tears the paper away, smiling when he sees the book. Okay, sure, maybe she should have gotten him something else. But she didn’t know him well enough, and he did seem to love books.

“Looking at what books you eyed at the shop, I thought that you might enjoy ‘The Call of the Wild’.”

“I love it, thank you.” Frank smiles softly, opening the book, inspecting the pages. Suddenly captivated by the way his fingers gently dance over the pages, Abby can’t help but wish she was that book. To have his fingers dance over her skin like that. She swallows a huge lump, looking at his hands. How could such a big book look small in his hands?

After a moment's silence, he looks into her eyes, suddenly looking a little nervous. “Abby, you’re going to the county fair, right?”

Slightly surprised by his question, she tells him how Mildred coerced her into helping set up. “But my evening is free. Why?”

“Maybe… You’d wanna go with me?”

Abby isn’t sure he heard him right. But the way he smiles, she knows it’s true. She can’t hold back her smile, as she happily agrees.

She was already tripping. Did he just ask her on a date? As she looks up into his beautiful chocolate eyes, a soft smile on his face, her heart flutters. Saturday couldn’t come fast enough.

Tagging: @e-dubbc11 @itwasthereaminuteago @chvoswxtch @theradioactivespidergwen @danzer8705 @lucy-sky @yanna-banana @murdock-and-the-sea @mattmurdocksscars @boliv-jenta @darlingshane @pedrito-friskito

And some no pressure tags 🙈: @anna-hawk @feelmyskinonyourskin @chellestrash @chelseasdagger @loveroftoomanyfandoms

#lumberjack frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #frank castle AU #frank castle x abigail miller #whisk me away

[usetheeauthor]

The Jezebel (Smut)

Switch!Topper Thornton x Dark!Fem!Reader

Summary: You’d do anything for money to get rich. Including trapping a kook like Topper into having a baby with you.

Word Count: 2.8k+

A/N: I’m getting such an unbelievable horniness for Topper that I hadn’t had before. Now that I’m noticing how incredibly hot he is, i want him to choke me. I know that this man fucks like Logan Pierce. 🥵🤭

Warnings: characters are 18+, minors DNI, DUB CON, mean!reader, mean! topper in the beginning, hate sex, beach sex, graphic language, belly bulge, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, mentions of heartbreak and cheating, topper being taken advantage of in his vulnerable state, oral (m receiving), bit of cock worship, slight praise kink, slight degradation kink, face fucking, saliva, kissing, biting, scratching, unprotected p in v, creampie, breeding kink, overstimulation

It was 3 am in the evening and Topper sat along the shore, drinking a pack of beers to himself. He was moping around about his precious little Sarah Cameron. It made you sick.

Why should girls like her have it all? She’s rich. Pretty. She gained your crush, John B’s affection. Topper still loved her despite her being a cheating bitch. It wasn’t fair. You wanted the odds to be in your favor for once. You hated being labeled as a Pogue wanting the privileges of the luxury life has to offer. You’d do anything to buy all the shoes and clothes you’d like.

You think you’ve found the meal ticket you’ve been looking for? Sitting drunkenly pretty on the shore, Topper cracks open his 4th beer while ranting to himself about who the hell cares.

You approached, showing feigned concern. He looks up at you through heavy-lidded eyes, a scowl on his face.

“What do you want, Pogue?” He takes a sip of the beverage.

“You’re here all by yourself. A drunken mess. Someone might take advantage of you.”

“Don’t care.” He shrugs.

You sit beside him in the sand. “All this over some girl that never wanted to fuck you in the first place?” You shook your head in pity for his poor, dumb mind. “She’s always had a thing for John B, ya know. I witnessed their love unfold at first hand. I knew they were together the whole time and I could’ve told you whenever I saw you. But I didn’t because I enjoyed your suffering. I bet what makes you angrier though isn’t the cheating. It’s the fact that makes he got to pop her cherry.”

Topper’s hand flings to your neck, gripping it tight. He’s on top of you and between your legs; your back against the sand. His hot breath tickling your lips. He breathes hard against you as if he’s trying to restrain himself. Gritting his teeth, he rips himself off of you and resumes drinking.

You smirk, sitting up again. “Guess I struck a nerve,” You scooted closer to him. Your voice is as alluring as a siren. “Ya know if I were still a virgin, I’d happily let you take it. In any way you’d like.”

He chuckles, darkly. “You couldn’t dare me to fuck a pogue.”

You were seething in your head. Did he have to make this so difficult to make this happen? You hated him with a passion. You wish you didn’t have to resort to this but it would be a huge opportunity for you and your family if you’d made a baby with a kook. This was going to take a lot of convincing.

“Oh, is that so?” You say, arms crossed. You get on your hands and knees, your lips near his ear. “You wouldn’t want to know how I’d feel around your thick cock? I know it’s thick because I can see you pitching a tent.” You palmed him through his swim shorts. He bites his lip to suppress a moan.

You can feel the heat giving off his body. Men are too fucking easy.

“I’m going for a swim.” He says in one shuddery breath.

Oh, you’ve got him bad. Pretty soon he’d be wrapped around your finger. Or you wrapped around him to be a bit vulgar.

He jumps into the body of water, letting himself cool down. You removed your clothes, leaving you only in your bra and panties as you hopped in, too. You swim after him noticing that he’d remained still just looking up at the night sky. You guessed that he was looking for you to chase him. On sane days, you wouldn’t dare chase the likes of him. Today, you needed to seal the deal while you could.

“You whores are all the same. You take advantage of a guy who could treat you right all for what…trash. I’ve given her nothing but my love, affection, support and she sneaks around and fucks him.”

You rolled your eyes. Not this ‘nice guys finish last’ BS. “Fuck you, Topper. Your girlfriend cheated on you. She did a shitty thing. True. But don’t go blaming this on the entire female population. Besides, I honestly don’t blame her for fucking John B. He seems like he can really handle a woman. As for you,” You look him up and down, chuckling. “You seem really fucking vanilla.”

“Fuck you.” He sneers.

“That’s what I’ve been hoping for.”

He stares at you. If you hadn’t known any better, you would say that there was a faint shade of crimson on his cheeks. When he wasn’t talking like a goddamn loser, he actually looked really cute. The movie star chin, the neat blonde hair, his blue eyes that reflected so beautiful under moonlight along with his delicious looking abs.

Oh, god. Were you really getting turned on by this fool? You don’t give yourself a second to ponder, closing the gap between your bodies. Your fingers intertwine in his damp hair tugging on it to bring his lips down to yours.

The kiss immediately grew sloppy. Tongues battling for dominance. You could taste the beer on his tongue and it was absolutely intoxicating. The cold body of water felt like nothing with his skin again yours. You needed him badly, an aching between your legs present.

He pulls away from the kiss, smirking when he noticed you chasing his lips. “Let’s get out of here.”

You nod.

You both swam to shore. Once you made it, you immediately attacked his lips once again sending him falling back into the sand and you on top of him. You weren’t so sure why you’d gone so feral for him but you simplified it down to not having had any sex in the past few months.

He break the kiss once again, you groan against his lips. “I meant, let’s get out of this place. Like to my car or my place.”

“Your place is too far for how badly I want this. And I’m not fucking you in your car. I’m not some dirty slut that you get to pump and dump in the back of your car.”

“So, you’d want to do this here? For anyone to see us?”

“It’s fine,” You say, kissing his neck. “No one will see. If they do, let them watch.” You bite him at that last part.

He chokes out a moan. “You’re killing me.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” You sat up, right on top of his clothed erection and ground down hard. You earn another moan from him. “You sound as pretty as you look. I bet that cock’s pretty, too.”

You repeated ground against him over and over. God, he felt so good against you. Prodding shallowly yet blissfully at your clothed entrance.

“Fuck, those panties aren’t even off and I could feel how soaked you are. Making a mess all over my shorts.” He makes an attempt to put his fingers under you to put your panties to the side. You slapped his hand away.

“No. I’m the one in control for tonight. Just like how your ex-girlfriend ran you, I’ll run you, too,” Your hands find the waistband to his shorts, pulling them down while you simultaneously slid down his body. “You’re gonna be my good little sub and take what I give you.”

His dick springs free from its prison, slapping against his stomach with a heavy thud. Just as you thought…his dick was pretty, too.

You licked your lips. “Stand up for me. I’ll give you this one chance to show me you aren’t so vanilla.”

He obeys. You take him in your hands, studying his hard member. It was definitely as thick as a soda can. Not too long but long enough to touch parts of you that even your dildo at home couldn’t reach. He has some pubic hair which was surprising because you assumed he’d groom his entire body of any hair like some prepubescent boy. You found it kind of manly of him.

He ruts his dick closer to your face. You drag your nails down the v-line of his waist. “Stop being so impatient.”

Noticing the juicy large vein on the side of his dick, your tongue makes the decision before you do to explore it first. He hisses and hums a moan at the feeling of your tongue.

He tastes so good. You waste no time tasting more of him, wrapping your lips around his large pink tip. You suckle at it, collecting the taste of his precum on your tongue.

“Fuck my mouth.” You command him. He nearly came from your derogatory language. Placing a hand on each of his thigh as support, you look up at him doe-eyed with your tongue sticking all the way out.

He looks down at you. Your eyes darkened almost demonic. If he hadn’t known any better, he’s guessed that you were a succubus. He takes a large hand, tilting you chin up. Taking himself in his hands, he guides his cock into your warm mouth, gliding it back and forth on your tongue.

You moaned at the full taste of him. You wanted to suck him dry but you didn’t want to waste a drop of cum reserved for your pussy.

He picks up the pace, stroking faster into your mouth. A large hand cupping the back of your head. You clasped your mouth tightly around him as he trusted harder and faster into your mouth. Your moans sending vibrations to the base, making his toes curl in the sand.

“Mmm, fuck.” The wet suction sounds of you gagging and suckling around him, eggs him on.

You bring one hand between your legs, toying with your clit to relieve the pain of him not being inside you. His moans and whimpers did not help your situation. You couldn’t understand how the hell Sarah had been strong enough not to fuck him when he sounded this heavenly when in pleasure.

He’s thrusting feverishly into your mouth. His cries becoming louder. Your saliva running down your chin with each thrust. He found you so beautiful like this being used for his enjoyment. If you’d let him, he’d ruin you the whole time through. Instead, he’ll let you enjoy your moments of dominance.

You tug at his balls and he let’s out a loud groan. “You’re gonna make me cum.”

You pull away from him, tearing his hands from your hair. “You’re not coming in my mouth. Lay back.”

He listens again, using your piles of clothes on the floor as a blanket and laying back against it. You unhook you bra and he sits back, watching in awe. He wanted them in his mouth. Next was your underwear which had not only been drenched by the water but by your slickness.

You climb on top of him, sopping cunt over his painfully hard cock. His fingertips dig into your waist, resisting himself from slamming his length into you. “Thank me.”

“For what?” He scoffs.

“For giving you this Pogue pussy.“

You take his shaft lowering yourself enough so that his tip was inside. You clenched around him

“Unnh, that’s so good.” He throws his head back.

“I know it is. Now thank me or I’ll hop off right now.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to if he did choose not to say it. You were addicted with the feeling of him inside you, stretching you. But he didn’t need to know that.

“Thank you. Fuck! Thank you.” He groans, a mixture of frustration and lust in his tone.

You lower yourself even more. “Do you know how absolutely appetizing you sound right now? I wanna make you cry like the little bitch you are.”

You bounced up and down on his cock. His moans getting louder. He’s hitting deep parts within you like a wreaking ball crashing through walls.

You can’t stop yourself from groaning, too. You were dickmatized, looking down at him as if he’s your whole world. You circe your hips then rocked back and forth, his hands on your hips guiding you on his cock.

He looks down between your bodies watching your slick creamy arousal, coating his shaft. It glistens in the moonlight and it’s a sight he plans on capturing in his memories.

“You look so fucking hot. Feel so good around me. Love stretching that tight pussy out.”

“Fuck yes, Topper. Keep talking to me like that baby. It’s so hot.” You drag angry red lines down chest, the frenzied thrusts increasing in power. The sounds of skin colliding and your squishy wetness consume the air.

He sits up, lowering his head to tease a hardened peak with his long, fat tongue and thrusts up into you, meeting your rhythmic bouncing.

“Tell me you love me.” He whimpers. Noticing your confused look, he continues. “I need to hear it. I need to feel wanted.”

“I love you, Topper.”

He gives one hard thrust, causing you to gasp.

“Say like you mean it.”

You crash your lips into his, nipping and tasting the soft pink flesh. “I fucking love you, Topper,” Wrapping your arms around his back, clawing at it. “Your such a good boy. Love how good you feel inside me. Love it so much.” Your literally sobbing at how good this was.

He runs a hand down to your tummy, feeling himself thrust against you while the thumb hung down to frantically rub at your clit. You nearly lifted off of him at the contact. You were the one in charge here but he’d sneakily found his chance to be the one in charge not that you were complaining.

His tongue and mouth continue to tease your swollen nipples, thumb toying with your clit and you felt like you were in overload. Then, he takes the other free hand grasping your butt and circles a finger around your puckered hole. He pushes a middle finger in and you bit into his shoulder, then bring your lips o his ears.

You can feel yourself slowly approaching your end and by the looks of his face, he was too. You knew he needed more though.

“I love you, Topper. I want you so badly.” You kiss his earlobe. Your sweaty bodies slick against each other as the rhythm becomes sloppy.

Shit, you were getting so close. So very close.

“I’m gonna cum, baby.” He pants.

“Cum for me. I want it deep inside of me. I don’t want a drop waste outside of this pussy. Give me your cum, daddy. Please.” You sounded so pathetic whimpering for a man you hated not too long ago. But if he made you feel this good there was no way you could hate him.

“I shouldn’t.”

You shove his back down to the ground, interlocking your fingers with his and riding him for dear life, your clit running over the defined v-line.

“Oh fuck. Oh god, I’m coming. ” He says in a breath whisper, tears prickling his eyes. His back arches, head thrown back and cock bottoming out into you as spurt after spurt of warm cum paints your walls.

This sends you of into your own orgasm. You’re shaking and trembling against him. A flood of your arousal wetting between your thighs and his thighs. You milk him for all he’s worth. “Fuck. Yes. Topper. That’s it make me a mommy. Pump me full of your babies!” You called out into the the midnight sky. You were sure neighbors nearby could’ve heard most of that.

Despite what he’d heard you said, he still found himself stroking desperately into your quivering core letting you wring him dry. A staccato of breaths is what your reduced to as he settles for a few more thrusts and until he softens in you.

You tried swinging your legs over him to remove yourself when he holds you down to him.

“Wait, you said every last drop. Let’s keep me in here so that we’re sure that you’ll get pregnant.”

You look down at him wide-eyed. “You don’t care?”

“Nah. I want this to happen. Besides, this just means you won’t be able to leave my side.” He smirks, still heaving from exhaustion.

He flips you both around so that you are on your back now. “I think I’ve been meaning to show you just how far from vanilla I am.” He thrusts into you and he’s hard again. The mixture of your juices squelching with each thrust. “Babygirl, it’s gonna be a looong night.”

That night you learned that the kook had some fire in him after all. He gladly showed you the mistake you’ve made in trapping him because he planned to keep you as his forever whether you liked it or not.

But boy did you love it.

#outer banks #topper thornton x reader #topper thornton x y/n #outer banks fanfiction #jj mayback x reader #john b routledge x reader #rafe cameron x pogue!reader #pogues for life #topper thornton x reader smut #topper thornton x reader fluff #dark fic #dark!reader #dark fanfiction #austin north #austin north x reader smut #topper thornton x reader x rafe cameron #dark smut #smuttyfic #fanfic writers of tumblr #black!fem!reader #writers on tumblr #obx x reader #obx fic #obx smut #obx fluff #obx jj maybank #obx kooks #topper thornton smut #netflix #topper thorton smut

[anothermarkedone]

THERE’S LITERALLY NO RIDOC FICS AND I THINK THAT’S CRIMINAL! So thank you for being an absolute legend and taking requests for him 🙏🙏

I was thinking what about a Ridoc x reader who is Dain’s little sister but she’s the completely opposite of him. A Weasly twin style prankster who thinks rules are just suggestions. I’d love to see the shenanigans she and Ridoc get up too while also trying to keep their relationship a secret from Dain bc we all know he would freak out

Fourth wing pranksters

Word count: 834 Pairing: Ridoc x Aetos!reader A/N: I saw this request and was immediately inspired. They're head canons, I hope you don't mind nonnie.

Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

One thing was crystal clear

Under no circumstance can Dain find out about you and Ridoc

It’s bad enough that his sweet darling little sister would start dating a guy

But Ridoc?! 

The guy who’s known to be the best prankster in the entire quadrant?

Hell to the fucking no

It’s bad enough that you don’t follow the rules, no matter how much Dain and your father try

You don’t need someone to enable you and join in your behavior

Not as a classmate or as a friend and certainly not as your boyfriend

But if you play it smart, he won’t easily find out

He’s too busy drooling 🤤 over Violet, glaring daggers 😡 at Daddy Xaden 🥵 and being a stuck up rule follower

He’s literally Percy Weasley 🧑🏻‍🦰 since we’re talking about HP references

There was a silly tradition in Fourth Wing that when it’s someone's birthday🎉, they bring a snack🧁 to Battle brief

And it just so happens that Dain’s birthday was the next day

The day before his birthday, he had roped you into helping him make your grandmother's famous caramel apples

He told you that he needed your help last minute of course, so you didn’t have an excuse ready😑

The perfect opportunity for a prank, if you say so yourself🤫

When you and Dain were finally done, you wished him a happy early birthday and told him that you were going to study for a bit with Violet.

He knew that Violet was still pissed at him for reading her memories without permission, but he never expected that his sweet fragile Violet would insure that there would be retaliation

*Cue evil laughter*😈

Dain of course insisted to walk you to Violet's room, to make sure you were safe, he claimed, definitely not to maybe see Violet🤡

You walked into Violets room (or rather, Violet pulled you through the wards that 💪🏻overprotective 🥵Daddy Xaden installed)

You used your signet to see through the wall and waited until you saw Dain walk away

The second he was gone, you slipped out of Violet’s room and into Ridoc’s, who was already dead asleep😴

You climbed on top of him and settled in his lap

Of course, he’s a horny bastard and had other activity ideas🥵

You promised him whatever he wanted after he helped you🤭

He was 100% in after you explained your plan, as if he wasn’t already after your spicy promise😏

You two sneaked into the kitchens

You two went to make another batch of ‘caramel apples’ but oh no😱! there are no apples left😥!

Guess you two have to use the onions…😈

While you started making your grandmother’s caramel sauce, he went to peel the onions

It was one hell of a job to get it done before battle brief, especially since your promise didn’t do anything to lessen Ridoc’s horniness

There were a lot of steamy kisses and inappropriate touches🤤

But Ridoc’s ice signet 🥶 came in handy when the ‘apples’ were done and they had to be cool enough so that it seemed that they had cooled down during the night

You two sneaked the actual caramel apples 🍎 into your room to snack on later

Then you went to battle brief

Once you two were seated with your squad, Dain came in with the tasty onions🧅

He handed them out to professor Kaori, professor Devera and, to your slight horror, even to major Varrish

When Dain handed them out to your squad, you quickly warned them not to eat them🙊

The whole time, you and Ridoc had trouble to keep from bursting out in laughter🤣

Professor Kaori had just started battle brief, everyone’s apple temporarily forgotten in favor of taking notes, when major Varrish suddenly leaped from his chair with an angry shout🤬

Pieces of onion falling from his mouth🤮

Ridoc’s hand squeezed your inner thigh, as if that would keep him from bursting out in laughter

Varrish demanded to know who did it

Of course Dain was his first suspect, but professor Kaori pointed out that it was not something Dain would do😯

Everyone checked their own apples and found onions under the thick layer of caramel

Bodhi subtly suggested that one of the first years could have a signet that can change objects, which would make sense, since the first years had only just bonded their dragons, so they have no control over their signet🙄

And thus, Varrish’s rage turned on the first years

He ordered everyone to leave, except the first years and Dain

You shot your horrified brother a (hopefully) comforting look 😬

As soon as your squad was out of the room, Ridoc grabbed your hand

In his other hand, he held his onion and he was busy licking the caramel from the vegetable🤢

Sawyer laughed that he was disgusting, Violet was satisfied with her small petty revenge and Rhiannon was shaking her her head while mumbling how she was stuck with idiots

Ridoc gave your friends an innocent wave, before dragging you off to fulfill that promise that you made.🥵

#fourth wing #iron flame #ridoc gamlyn x reader #ridoc gamlyn #dain aetos

[smutmakesmesmile]

A lil something smutty~

A little something for my fellow trans men, get in on this Lucifer lovin’🤭🥵.

Reader x Lucifer MorningStar

Features sexual themes with this scrumptious man, so turn back now if you don’t wanna read it.

Content: Sub/Dom themes, praise, oral sex, cunnilingus, Sub Reader, Dom Lucifer, trans male Y/N, female terms for trans guy pussy✨

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You could feel yourself sink into the plush bed as you laid down, unable to break away from Lucifer’s fiery stare. His hands ran up and down your thighs, soothing your pounding heart.

His lips ghosted your inner thighs, as he murmured, “Mmm, my baby is overthinking. Maybe I should make you cum till that busy mind yours is empty.”

Your breathe hitched, god that sounded so good.

“Would you like that, sweetheart? Use your words, love.”

“God yes. Yes, please.” You whisper.

“There you go, thank you for using your words, my love,” He purred. He gently tugs your underwear off your body, tossing it to the side. He works his way up your thighs, firm kisses planted on your plush soft skin. You could feel his fingers trace along your labia, parting your folds glistening with wetness.

“Look at you, so wet for me. My baby boy is so gorgeous for me,” He hummed. The was the last thing he said before he dove forward, causing you to gasp as his warm tongue traced your hole. He lapped up the slick that was there, finally reaching the sweet bud. A shiver ran up you spine as he laved over it, wet and warm.

“Oh! Yes, that spot right there!” You whined out, his focus began to be pointed on that particular spot. You moaned, all you could do was grind against that beautiful mouth of his. Your body trembled as you came and he ate it all up. Again that velvet soft tongue returned to your sensitive bud, the build up coming quicker and causing your moans to reach higher pitched.

“Fuck, Lucifer! Faster, please, please!” You cry out. And dutifully, he sped up, his grip on your thighs tighten as you came again and again on that beautiful tongue of his. You devolved into a whining and crying mess, begging for him to continue. Finally, your orgasm snapped through your body like a rubber band as you came hard on his tongue. He ate every drop, praising and soothing you. He came up for air and cradled you in his arms, thumb stroking your cheek. You looked up at him, seeing the adoration in his eyes. Planting a soft kiss on your lips, he murmured, “Such a good boy for me.”

#first smut #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar #trans man