#I just don’t get why women don’t like dad bods way more

[daddysroyalwhore]

But, like, dads with tattoos 😅

[kittenfangirl20]

*it was a few days after Charlie had come to Adam’s room with the BBQ ribs and she was happy to see Adam get involved with the other residents of the hotel, she got even more excited when she saw Adam and Angel Dust joking around, though she wished that Adam would stop wearing those torn up and blood stained robes, maybe she could convince Angel Dust to go take Adam clothes shopping because she knew that spider sinner loved any excuse to shop especially if it was with Lucifer’s massive fortune since the King of Hell said that Adam could use the Morningstar fortune for anything he wanted or needed since the fortune was practically endless, but still there were times when Adam wanted to talk to Charlie alone, so she let Adam sometimes come into her office to talk like today*

Charlie: I thought we could have some snacks today. We have milk and cookies.

*Adam perked up at the thought of snacks, after having to toil to make food for his family Adam loved indulging in good foods in the afterlife which was how he had gotten a dad bod, hearing Adam talk about how much of a struggle his mortal life was after Eden she understood why these foods that didn’t exist when he was alive would look so good, the cookies were chocolate chip with milk chocolate chips, dark chocolate chips, and white chocolate chips with two large glasses of chocolate milk since that was how Adam preferred dipping his cookies into milk*

Charlie: Remember that this is a judgement free zone and nothing you say will get beyond this room.

Adam: There might be some things you would probably judge me for.

*Adam was dunking an entire cookie into the milk and then shoving the entire thing into his mouth, which was rather strange but also impressive*

Charlie: I know all about Extermination Day, can’t really have me shocked about that.

Adam: No, it is about Eden, I met my first love when I was as created, but they ran away to be with someone else.

Charlie: You mean mom, if so why did try to control her.

*a look that showed anger, fear, confusion, and sadness crossed Adam’s face*

Adam: I never loved Lilith and she lied to you when she said I tried to control her. Trying to control Lilith is like trying to control a hurricane, impossible. My first love was your father.

Charlie: You loved my dad.

Adam: No, I love your dad, saying I loved him is implying I no longer love him, but those feelings are there and just as strong as ever. I love Lucifer as much as I love Eve. I never understood why the human race was so obsessed with monogamy and how up until recently it was only socially acceptable for a man and a woman to love each other.

Charlie: I didn’t know you were bisexual like me.

Adam: Yeah, I knew I was attracted to both men and women before even the concept of bisexuality was really thought of. I hated that I was used to promote homophobia with that stupid “It’s Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve.” This whole religious homophobia garbage was made by humans, I was never judged for my attractions in Eden. But it just hurt so much that I could never tell your dad how I felt because he ran with Lilith.

Charlie: Maybe now is your chance to tell him.

*Charlie placed a comforting hand on Adam’s shoulder*

Adam: I don’t know if I can, I’m not as good looking as I used to be and to tell the truth I wasn’t much to look at to begin with.

Charlie: You look amazing Adam, there is nothing wrong with the way you look. Besides fat shaming people is disgusting, you should have the right to be comfortable with your own body.

*Charlie wondered who made Adam feel that way about himself, but when she asked, he would quickly change the subject so he didn’t have to tell her, she didn’t know that Adam didn’t want to tell her because Lilith did that to him and he didn’t want to be the one to shatter the image Charlie had of her mother*

[drummergetwicked]

Jason x Reader

Literally Dozens Of Us

(Or, Less Hoodies, More Chest Hair)

By Drummergetwicked

CW: None, just more romantic silly fluff.

“Fuck, you’re so sexy.” You say as you look over to Jason. You’re both just getting dressed for your day and he’s put on a pair of nice jeans that are cuffed at the bottom, a pair of brown leather dress shoes, white undershirt, baby blue button-down and a lightweight dark green sweater. Jason and his many layers. Both literally and figuratively. He smiles at you as he rolls his sleeves up to his elbows. Your favorite. Those forearms do you in. “Mmmm slutty forearms.” You think to yourself.

“Who me? Nah. I’m just ok. I’m just a guy.” You roll your eyes in protest “Just ok? Just a guy? You’ve got to be kidding me, right? Jason, do you not know the effect you have on women? The effect you have on me?”. You sashay over to him and wrap your arms around his neck to look deep into those eyes that drive you mad and lay a big fat kiss on those lips. “Now what’s that for?” He coyly asks as he wraps his arms around you. “You being so damn sexy and also adorable.” “I’m no such thing. You flatter me.” He protests.

“Ok, now stop this right now Jason, I’m not having it. You need to learn to take a compliment. And if it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to make you see just how fucking devastatingly desirable I think you are.” You look sternly into his hazel eyes because you mean business.

“Oh yeah, and how’s my girl gonna do that, sweet cheeks?” He grins and teases you with love nips at your neck. “Mmmmm… well first let me just say that if I had my way, you’d never hide that body in a hoodie ever again. I’d burn them all in a dumpster fire and fine you whenever you tried to put one on.”

He laughs one of those full bodied laughs against your body and goes “Holey moley,why?! You don’t want me to be comfortable?” You’re laughing with him, “of course, I know my boy loves being comfy. And your body your rules. But if I had my way…. Gone. All of them.”

“So tell me, why are they gone if you had your way?”

“Well for starters, they hide the physique that drives me feral. I love your body, Jason. I love every single thing about it. The more I see, the more I go crazy for you. I love seeing you in something that accentuates your fine as hell features.” You lay sweet little kisses and nips on his neck and jawline. You both slightly swaying together to a song softly playing in the background.

“Noted. I like it when you dress in a way that accentuates your fine ass features, too…” he winks as he grabs your ass. You give him a look of mock disapproval. “But come on, it’s not like I’m Brad Pitt or Ryan Gosling over here. I’m just dad bod Jason Sudeikis.” Laughing, you retort “oh honey. Dad bod Jason Sudeikis is fucking sexy and loads of women agree with me.”

“Who? I need names and numbers.” You roll your head back and laugh. “Honey, never you mind. Just know that there are literally dozens of us.” You play slap his shoulder. “Ok, so dozens of women like dad bod Jason. Why? Why not Brad Pitt or Ryan Gosling?” You roll your eyes again.

“Well that’s a silly question. Sure, they’re objectively handsome, but that’s doesn’t mean they’re my type or that I’m attracted to them. Are you attracted to every objectively attractive woman you meet? I mean, you never made a move on Hannah, right? That woman is a straight up goddess.”

“Ok, true.” He ponders. You continue: “For every woman lusting for Ryan Gosling there’s one foaming at the mouth for Seth Rogan. We all like what we like and I foam at the mouth for you and your dad bod. When you dress like this? I go bonkers. When you wear something that reveals just a tiny bit of chest hair? I could chew on live wires. You’re hot.” “Yeah? So less hoodies, more chest hair?” He asks sweetly and softly against your ear. “Mmmmhmmm, dear lord, yes please.”

“Anything else I can do for you my love?”

“Don’t ever touch those gray temples again. Color your hair if you must, but those temples are mine. You can pry them from my cold dead hands.” You grab and shake his shoulders in play indignation. He laughs and sighs. “Ok. Deal. You got it. More chest hair and leave the temples alone.”

“And less hoodies? Just a little?”

He rolls his eyes and groans: “Fiiine, less hoodies.”

“Yaaaay! Paise be to the lord on this fine day!” You both start cackling and dancing around like two idiots in love.

***Let me know if you want to be tagged in these. There are a few more, just search “Jason x reader” in my blog***

[moodymisty]

I remember you talking about this a while ago and I wanted to add my opinion on it. I think the reason why people tag x reader fanfictions as “dubcon” despite it being very obviously a noncon plot is actually because you, the reader, are metatextually consenting to it by reading the fic. So even if you in the written work are totally against this being done to you, you in real life clicked on the “oh no stop that I don’t want that~” fic with the intent to read about how blorbo of the week dicks you down criminal style.

And you could say that I’m assuming that most dubcon/noncon x reader fanfiction is centered around the reader being the victim. But from my experience that’s a pretty accurate assumption, in all my time on the internet I’ve only found one fic where the reader was the perpetrator. So I think that’s because these types of fanfiction are more thought exercises than anything else, because in this fandom the average hot guy is someone like Evilman Killperson who’s an evil man that loves killing people. And there’s really no way to depict having consensual sex with him unless the reader is also morally corrupt and/or an asshat, and most people don’t enjoy self insert fiction where they’re depicted as kind of a loser.

So a fic where Evilman Killperson takes an interest in poor innocent you and decides to forcefully devil’s tango about it is, in-universe, non consensual. But in real life you fully agreed to read about it because Evilman’s boobs are the size of your pillow and you find that super hot, which would make it dubcon. It’s essentially desiring someone but not wanting to be complicit in their grimdark actions.

Like, the Emperor is a fascist imperialist whose biggest hobby is eugenics, he’s a horrible dad, terrible friend, and an awful ruler. Having consensual sex with him implies that you’re fully okay with all of these things. … but non consensual sex?? Well that’s an entirely different story, if he steals you away to forcibly romance you then you can enjoy his soft hair, sexy bod, and striking gold eyes without feeling any guilt about it! Which again, makes it metatextually dubcon. Like do you see what I mean?

bold of you to assume i'm using the dubcon/noncon tag to justify my simping, it's just my kink to get bodyslammed.

/joking it is interesting how the whole 'getting kidnapped/torn away is used in so many mediums by women to allow them to enjoy things without a sense of guilt. it's existed in bodice ripper novels for years, classic pirate steals a housewife type stuff.

[nickgerlich]

The Shape Of Things

I have a lot of fun during “blogging season” each semester. For 12 weeks I take deep dives each and every day to find relevant topics ripe for discussion, with the added challenge of somehow finding a common thread to share to all of my classes. Most of the time I am able to do that.

And then there are times like today in which the subject has marketing legs of its own, but offers a few chuckles too. Because why not? We all need to laugh a bit.Like when I read recently that socialite Kim Kardashian was expanding her line of Skims shapewear to include products for men. Feel free to chuckle if you like.

Now men’s underwear is a funny subject. It has long been said that women buy the majority of men’s underwear to begin with, and that men only buy their own underwear for a small portion of their years on earth, leaving that duty to Mom and then wives and girlfriends. We’re bad like that. Lazy. Trying to get every ounce of value possible from them.

And why not? No one sees them.

Men’s underwear has long been a non-starter when it comes to fashion and all that. The pilot episode of Breaking Bad showed Walter White in his signature tighy-whities out in the desert, he being the archetype of suburban middle-class manhood. We expected it.

But shapewear? Isn’t that newspeak for a girdle? Sara Blakely made her billions by reimagining the girdle, as well as its predecessor the corset, as shapewear. They all achieve the same thing, and ladies bought Spanx by the armful to help conceal bulging realities. I bet there isn’t a woman alive who doesn’t one or more of them tucked away in the dresser.

I know. It’s a cultural ideal point. Our culture chides women into fits of guilt if they don’t maintain the appearance of their girlish youth. Guys, though, are cut a lot of slack, with even the “Dad bod” being popular. You know. Love handles and the inability to see one’s belt buckle (and maybe their toes as well).

Kardashian is not the first to try to break into the men’s market, because Spanx has had men’s items for several years now. I saw them once at the local Dillards, gathering dust. I don’t know a single guy who would wear a man girdle.

I do, however, confess to having several base layer long-sleeve shirts that effectively accomplish the same thing. All of my cycling jerseys fit much the same way too. If you accidentally get the wrong size, you wind up feeling like a sausage.

While Kardashian is hoping that men buy her new undies, I’m guessing that it will be women buying them for the men in their life. “Here, honey. Try these on. Your old ones are starting to look a little ragged anyway.”

Then again, maybe Kardashian can usher in a new era of underwear-buying men, guys who care as much about their undies and overall appearance as women do. Instead of having to hold it in whenever trying to impress the ladies, you can just stand there confidently knowing that your stretchy skivvies are doing it all for you.

I do think that the advertising for products like these needs to change, though. They always show studly male models wearing them, but they are guys who don’t need them in the first place. You know, like those Peloton ads showing fit and trim models pounding the pedals.

They need to show before-and-after pics of rather plump men all of a sudden looking pretty good, like they just graduated from basic training. That might sell more boxers and briefs. I for one don’t want to look at a pro athlete sporting these duds. He gets paid to be fit. I get paid to teach. I don’t have to be ripped to stand in front of a classroom, or type blogs.

Sorry, Kim. I’m good over here. Like most men, I’ve probably got a few good years left in what I own. But if someone wants to gift me some new drawers, I’ll gladly accept them.

Dr “Suck It In” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[saey707]

Dinner at Your Place!

☆₊˚⊹ ᰔ Prompt: you are invited to dinner at your best friend akali's house and come across her handsomely large brother shen! you want to spend more time with Shen, but it looks like he's trying his hardest to avoid your attention... Focus: shen (the eye of twilight) ♛ ꩜ .ᐟ Reader: gender neutral! reader, no specific attributes defined

Author's Note: I absolutely adore the whole concept of big boy Shen with a dad bod so that’s going to be the focal point of this series. I think it’s just the most wholesome thing (///♡∀♡) So let’s show Shen some love! If you would like for me to continue this series you are more than welcome to request for more (υ◉ω◉υ) Enjoy!

Warnings: light body dysmorphia. ⋆. 𐙚 ��

How You Meet Shen ♡

Much of his insecurities stemmed from the constant comparisons to his adopted brother; there was a part of Shen that had always been insecure about his body. Of course, Shen did have a pretty good amount of muscle for a man of his stature, but it didn’t spare the fact he was well over 200 pounds and had a diet many didn’t understand: A sumo diet!

You have always had a thing for bigger men, though it seemed like nobody knew it! Far too often, you have fallen for the wrong people: Those who were only concerned with appearances, public image, money, and so on.

However, when you learned your best friend Akali had a brother, your attention was immediately glued to the handsomely plump man with flaming orange-red hair.

“Is that… Your brother??” You sputter out, dumbstruck. 

Akali nudged you, pulling you along. “Yeah, don’t make fun of him, though-“ “No, It's not that- I mean! He’s just really… hot?” 

At that, Akali scrunched her nose up, shaking her head in disgust. Did you just say her brother was hot? Oh, kill her…

As dinner came around the corner, you knew you had to meet him!! He’s been on your mind since you and Akali passed by his room!

Placing plates down on the dining room table, Shen looked up only to find you shyly standing at the doorway, cracking a gentle smile at him. You waved with a flustered face. Confused as ever, Shen looked behind him. There was no way you were actually flustered to see him. So he looked back at you, pointing to himself.

You nodded, stepping forward to get a closer look at Shen.

The poor man nervously stretched his fingers against his sweaty palms, his hands behind his back now. 

“U-Uh… Hi?” He spoke first. You tilted your head, “Hi...”

Leading Up to the First Date ♡

For some time, Shen spent his days avoiding you like the plague whenever you came by the house. Why you wanted so desperately to be around him was beyond him!

He didn’t feel comfortable with such a wonderful and beautiful individual like yourself giving him any sort of positive attention! What did he ever do to deserve it in the first place?

Usually, Zed was the one with women and men sauntering his way. But for you to want his attention of all men? It’s strange! It's abnormal! You had to be messing with him...

However, you obviously had plans of your own to gain your Shenpai’s attention! 

They say the best way into a man’s heart is through his stomach... Naturally, you knew you would have to cook something delicious to steal the heart of your twilight-eyed crush! 

The first thing you made for him was chankonabe, hopeful that it would be enough to gain his trust. At first, you played it off as something you and Akali were going to bring to a social potluck but decided Shen was “way more fun than some silly gathering.” 

You remember how his eyes lit up the moment he took the first bite. From there, you were hopeful that you would keep getting that same reaction from him. 

Soon, you were making all sorts of food to bring Shen so the two of you could share and grow closer to one another. You made just about everything: hand-pulled noodles, barbecue, homemade dumplings, stuffed rice cakes, sour pork soup, you name it!

You were certain that your efforts wouldn’t go to waste if it meant Shen would at least put some of his trust in you. 

Plus, you loved the excited look on his face whenever you brought something new over, the way he sunk into his chair whenever he took one perfect bite of your cooking.

“I hope you’re hungry!” “Heh, always..!”

Shen started anticipating his little sister’s friend coming around more, hoping he could repay you for all you’ve done with his cooking one of these days.

He wasn’t the best of cooks like Zed, but he did know how to make pretty decent cup ramen!

Honestly, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t developing the tiniest of crushes on you… And, of course, you would definitely be lying if you said you weren’t falling maddeningly in love with the twilight-eyed man yourself!

[scuttling]

Long Time Coming

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,664 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, Reader has a few one night stands, Semi-public sex, Unprotected sex, Blow jobs/Face fucking, Hairpulling, Fingering, Praise and degradation, Dirty talk, Accidental reveal of feelings, TW blood/cut Summary: You have been in lust (and love) with Aaron for a while, but his new look sends you off the deep end, and it's enough to make you do some pretty crazy things. *Inspired by @ssamorganhotchner and these three pics. Link to A03 or read below! You are fresh off yet another unsuccessful first date when Aaron wears the new suit. You, Emily, JJ, and Penelope are standing by the coffee maker, complaining about the pitfalls of online dating and how people are never they way they seem when you actually meet in person; you have the carafe in your hand, filling your mug, and when he walks in, face in a case file, his pants so tight you can make out his hips and thighs as clearly as if he were naked… You kind of lose your shit. And your grip.

The carafe shatters when it hits the tile floor, spraying shards of glass and hot coffee everywhere; Emily gasps, Penelope jumps back to avoid the splatter, JJ runs for a broom, and you just stand there, staring at Aaron—at his tight slacks, at his belt, at his shirt, tucked neatly inside, then at his dangling tie, and finally, his worried face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, because you have literally not moved a muscle since he arrived; your boots are covered in coffee—you are thankful you dressed casually today and aren’t wearing heels, or you’d be in a lot of pain—and your heart is racing, but otherwise you feel frozen, unable to move or look away.

You’ve wanted Aaron for a long time, and everyone knows it but him. It’s part of the reason you’re smothering yourself with online hookups and blind dates and one night stands: because he is off limits, and you’re desperately horny for him, and you need to have him fucked out of your mind one way or another.

The new suit further complicates things.

“Fine,” you say after a few more seconds, and JJ comes back with the broom and dustpan, so you bend down to help her clean up your mess. It wasn’t your brightest idea, because you are now at eye level with the tight crotch of his pants, and all you can think of is working the zipper open, pulling him carefully past the fly, sucking him off until those big hands slip into your hair and tug roughly when he comes.

God. You’re going to have to go on another bad date. Or ten.

“New suit?” Penelope asks conversationally, as if you aren’t having a sexual crisis about it three feet away. “Looks good, boss.” Aaron runs his hand down his body self-consciously, but all you see are thick fingers and stomach and hnnngg…

JJ pinches the back of your arm hard, makes a face that screams get it together!!, and you take a deep breath.

“I took some of my old ones in for alterations and the salesman convinced me they were severely outdated. Do you like this style better?”

For some reason, it feels like he’s looking right at you, and you nod, dreamy-eyed, sweep your tongue over your lips.

“Better,” you rasp, and Emily and Penelope agree, probably to take the emphasis off of your slack mouth and dopey one-word answers. You try to help JJ clean up, picking up the larger pieces of glass and dropping them into the dustpan despite her protests—because you are very unfocused, shouldn’t be messing with sharp objects—and when you cut your finger on a piece, she just sighs. Such a mom.

You wince, and Aaron frowns, comes toward you, putting you not only at dick height, but a manageable dick distance, if you were so inclined; really, it’s more if he were so inclined, because you are actually fully prepared to swallow his load right here in front of your friends—all he’d have to do would be snap his fingers and point to his crotch, and the FBI would be suing you for mental distress and using the money to pay for therapy for Emily, Penelope, and JJ.

“Let’s get this cleaned up,” he says, snapping you out of your very elaborate fantasy (typically your fantasies don’t involve court costs, but this is Aaron, so anything is possible.) He wraps his hand around your injured finger and pulls you up to standing with the other, and you just follow along as he leads you over to the sink, turns on the tap to let the water run over your cut. The way you’re looking up at him like he’s the best thing you’ve ever seen has to be painfully obvious, but he just reaches over for the first aid kit, takes out a bandage, and wraps it carefully around the tip of your finger. You sigh.

It may have started out as lust, but you’re pretty sure you’re also in love.

You have got to find a way to get him to notice you as more than just an agent, a teammate, a friend, and so: Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ begins. You fill the girls in on your master plan, and they fill in Derek and Spencer just so there are more people to laugh at you when you crash and burn, probably. But you’ve got a plan, will be pulling out all the stops, so you might not fail horribly after all. Hopefully.

God, you absolutely cannot fail. You can’t go out with another software engineer with the personality of a peanut or another investment banker who thinks buying you an appetizer means you owe him a blow job in the front seat of his Tesla. You will go fucking insane.

Today’s plan is T for tits, because yours are pretty awesome and almost no one who is attracted to women can resist them. You wear your usual white button down top, but you leave the top two buttons undone, and you add a red, lacy bra for a little additional temptation.

“Here are those consults you asked for,” you say after knocking lightly on the doorframe; Aaron waves you inside. You set them down on his desk, then glance over the open folder in front of him, make a curious noise. “What are you working on up here?”

You walk around his desk, so you’re standing next to him, and lean forward to look over the case file with one hand on the back of his chair and the other pressed against the desk. If he would look over, he would see right down your top, your breasts high and smushed together thanks to the lacy push up… but he looks straight down at the file, taps his pen against it.

“Murders in Detroit. I don’t think we’ll go—they look like mob hits to me, so I’m going to refer the case to Organized Crime.” You hum, turn the file toward you and lean in a little closer, letting your hair spill over your shoulder, the neck of your blouse fall open. Boobs and perfume are usually a one-two punch that is capable of bringing any man to his knees, and while he does turn to look at you, it feels entirely too respectful for your liking. You sigh softly, give up for today, and turn the file back.

“Well you know best, boss. Any time I don’t have to go to Detroit is alright by me.” You flash him a smile, and he reciprocates, and you head back downstairs for a cup of coffee and maybe a stale shame pastry.

The team looks up at you when you approach, and you shake your head.

“No luck,” you mutter, and Derek laughs, crosses his arms over his chest.

“Maybe you’re not very good at flirting. What did you do?” You roll your eyes—your flirting is not the problem, it’s Aaron’s morals and manners or whatever—and walk over to Spencer’s desk, demonstrate with him what you did to Aaron; you put your hand on the back of his chair, toss your hair over your shoulder, lean in, and Spencer swallows hard, licks his lips, and looks abruptly down at his hands. That reaction, you would have gladly taken.

Derek clears his throat, and so does Emily. Hmm.

“I’m good at flirting,” you say, straightening up; Spencer is blushing, and it’s super cute, so you pat him lightly on the head. “Maybe he’s an ass man. I’ll wear a skirt tomorrow and we’ll see if that gets the job done.”

“Good idea,” Derek says, and when you walk past him, he gives you a once over that makes you feel pretty damn good. “In the meantime, why don’t you come and demonstrate on me?”

There’s no denying he is one of the finest men you’ve ever seen in your life, and earlier on in your career you might have taken him up on it—it would have to be better than Marty McTesla, that’s a given—but you know he’s mostly teasing, even if there is a thin layer of actual desire beneath it all. You just fluff your hair and take your seat and mentally flip through your closet to try to come up with an outfit Aaron can’t refuse. You decide on a pencil skirt, because that’s got to be every boss's fantasy, right? You have one you never wear to the office because it’s a little sexy, tight on your hips and ass, with a zipper up the back that you can open a little and use to your advantage. When you walk into the bullpen that morning, JJ whistles, and you grin, do a little twirl.

“Thank you, thank you. This has to work, right?” You turn to face Emily, then turn away from Emily, butt right in her face. “Emily? This will work, right?”

“That’s... definitely going to work,” she murmurs, tapping the cap of her pen against her teeth, and you have to admit you have a good feeling about this one. For as great as breasts are, your ass is your best asset, and if the open top and red bra didn’t work, this has to be your ticket to some sweet, dirty loving, it just has to.

You all head up for the morning meeting, filing into the briefing room, and you give Aaron a soft greeting and a smile just like every day, and then offer to help him pass out whatever stack of papers he’s holding in his hands—fire drills and emergency protocol, or something boring like that. He accepts the help, and you take the fliers, but instead of walking around and handing them to each member of the team like he would, you bend over the table, reach across, and drop the pages in front of everyone.

JJ is the furthest away, and you practically have to climb onto the table to reach her; you grin and wink when she takes the papers out of your hand, and she shakes her head like you’re too much, but when you stand back up to hand Aaron the extras, he doesn’t seem the slightest bit interested.

He thanks you for your help, and you take your seat and listen to him go on about emergency exits and fire extinguishers and seriously start to contemplate moving to Europe to start a new life, or something else equally dramatic.

Because you don’t give up easily, you orchestrate one more attempt to get him to show some interest in you. You know he usually goes downstairs to the cafeteria for lunch, and that the elevator is a jam-packed nightmare because the main stairwell is currently under construction (which is probably why you needed to go over safety protocol, now that you think about it; shutting down the stairwell seems very unsafe.) You usually pack your lunch, but you can go buy an overpriced salad for the sake of your sex drive, so you wait for the elevator when he does, making small talk about your mornings until it dings and arrives on your floor.

He tries to let you in first, gentleman that he is, but that won’t work with your plan, so you insist, earning eye rolls from the other passengers on the elevator. You give Amy from Forensic Accounting a dirty look and then step in after him, lean back against him because there’s really no fucking room to even take a breath.

He’s taller than you, but with heels on your ass still fits pretty nicely against his thighs; a little too nicely, you think, as you get wet just from standing near him in the elevator, the heat of his body through your skirt. You really are a mess.

There are two more floors to go before the cafeteria, and no one gets off, but more people manage to cram into the elevator, which means you press more tightly against him to make room. Someone bumps into you roughly, which makes you unsteady on your feet; Aaron puts his hands low on your hips to keep you from wobbling, and your eyes literally roll back in your head, but he just leans in to mutter, “sorry” into your ear. You say nothing, because you’d probably moan if you opened your mouth, but you shake your head so he knows it’s not a problem.

When everyone gets off downstairs, you hurry to the restroom and don’t look back, turn on the faucet and splash some cold water against your overheated neck and chest. So much for that plan. All you managed to do was work yourself up into a fury.

While you’re in line to pay for your overpriced salad, you open up your dating app and secure yourself drinks with a hot lawyer for tonight. Seduction is clearly not working with Aaron, he’s clearly not interested, and you have to find a way to move on before you have a spontaneous workplace orgasm and get fired from the job you love—all of his tight new suits have been dark so far, but if he shows up in gray, you’re not going to have the will to survive anymore. You have to plan for the worst.

The lawyer is nice enough, but he’s too short, too thin; it’s hard to imagine Aaron’s body weight on top of you when he’s fucking you, but you’re nothing if not resourceful, so you move your hands to his head of thick, dark hair and focus on that—that, and his hot breath against your throat when he comes a little too soon and mutters “sorry” into your ear.

“It’s okay,” you pant, reaching between you to rub your clit. You close your eyes, tip your head back, clench around him; you imagine it’s Aaron inside you instead, and bury your face in his shoulder when you come.

He’s willing to stay, but you explain why it’s better if he leaves, and then you fall back into bed, fumble for your vibrator, and get off again so you’re not too distracted by reality to really enjoy your fantasy.

It’s a little twisted, but it is what it is. You’re standing in the breakroom a few days later, swiping through the dating app and bullshitting with Derek and Penelope, when this guy pops up on your screen. He’s not your usual type, younger and blonder than you prefer these days, a pilot, but something about his profile makes you pause; when it hits you, you blow out a breath and look up at your friends.

“So you guys know Operation ‘Get Hotch Out Of His Tight Pants’ is officially dead in the water,” you begin, and they nod, “and now I’m focusing my energy on trying to get over him. I went on a date with a guy that kind of looked like him, and that didn’t really help, but what if…” You turn your screen to face them; Derek nods like it might be crazy enough to work, but Penelope grimaces.

“No, I don’t think that’s going to work. It might actually be crossing a line,” she says with a frown, and you look to Derek for his input.

“It’s more of a coincidence than anything, right? It’s not like he’s unattractive and this is the only reason you’re going out with him. He’s a good looking guy,” he admits, and you’re really grateful he’s willing to help you rationalize this probably terrible idea into a potentially decent idea.

You send the pilot a message, and he wants to meet up; he suggests a bar near the both of you, and you know it’s risky, but you tell him you happen to make a great gin and tonic and that you have everything you need at home, if he’d like to meet you there instead.

He does, and you don’t even make him that drink, just take off his clothes, get him into your bed.

“That’s right, babe—wanna hear you lose it for me. Say my name, gorgeous,” he groans, fingers digging into your hips as he fucks you from behind, and you close your eyes, fist your hands in the sheets, and give him what he wants.

“Oh, fuck, Aaron. Fuck me harder.” His thrusts are already rough and punishing, but this is the best you’ve felt in a really long time, so you’re eager, desperate for more. “Yeah, Aaron, just like that.”

“Tell me my big cock feels so good in your pussy.” He slaps your ass, and you moan involuntarily, press back against him, panting.

“Your big cock feels so good, Aaron, so good in my pussy. Fuck me, Aaron, destroy me.” He grunts, tenses, and moves his hands to your shoulders, slamming your body tight against his as he comes. “Yes, don’t stop, Aaron, don’t stop,” you plead, hips working together, and when he smacks your ass again you come gasping his name, collapsing against the bed with a breathless sigh.

You feel a lot dirtier than you expected you would, even though it was kind of awesome, and ultimately Penelope was right; it was fun while it lasted, but it didn’t do a damn thing to help you forget about the only Aaron you actually want in your bed. Monday morning, Aaron comes into the office wearing a tight navy suit with a striped white shirt and a navy tie, and you follow him with your eyes from the glass double doors all the way up to his office, mouth open a little. Your eyes get heavy and your breathing picks up, which is the dumbest biological reaction to a man’s ass you’ve ever had—but god, it’s a perfect ass—and JJ has to actually lightly slap your cheek to get you to snap the fuck out of it.

“Are you horny right now?” she asks, a little grossed out. “I can’t handle you.”

“I know you guys all call him a tightass, but I mean, if the pants fit… and god, do they fit.” You pick up a case file and fan yourself with it. “He’s so fucking hot. What am I supposed to do? Getting railed by fake Aaron didn’t do shit; I think I might actually have to transfer.”

“You’re not transferring. You just have to get over it.”

“Are you kidding? She’s like a cat in heat when he’s around,” Derek says with a smirk. “I think I’m getting horny just because she’s horny.”

“Okay, so why can’t I have that effect on him?” you ask with your arms open. “Do you think it’s the pheromones? Maybe they’re incompatible. Smell me—does it turn you on?” you ask Spencer, presenting your neck, and he looks like a deer in the headlights, then leans in to sniff you.

“Uh… you smell nice?” he says with a shrug and a half smile. “I think it’s just your perfume, though.”

“Put your face near her boobs,” Derek says, and Spencer starts to lean in again. “I think the pheromones are stronger there.” He pauses about halfway to your chest.

“Actually, they’re stronger near the genitals, but I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“What’s going on down there?” You freeze and then turn to look up at Aaron’s office, where he leans against the doorframe; Spencer stands up comically fast, and you take a step back, clearing your throat. Aaron’s scowling—it’s really sexy and it’s making your heart beat in your stupid, traitor pussy—and then he sighs visibly. “We have a case, come on.”

The case is only a half hour away, so you drive, which is horrible, because you are with Aaron and Derek, and Derek lets you sit in the front just to watch you squirm.

It gets bad before you even pull out of the parking garage, because Aaron puts his hand on the back of your headrest to look behind him and reverse the SUV, and you look over at his body—his stomach, his lap, his thighs—and then quickly face forward when he puts the car into drive. You’re flushed, breathing heavily, and when he looks you over quizzically, asks if you’re alright, you just clear your throat and nod.

“Allergies,” Derek supplies from the back, and you mentally thank him for the save, but you kind of also want to smack him for putting you in this position in the first place.

You’re practically turned on the entire ride, even as you go over the details of the case, because his legs are spread and your eyes keep moving to his crotch; at one point, you think you notice his already unfairly tight pants getting a little tighter, but it’s just a trick of light.

By the time you arrive at the precinct, you are more than ready for fresh air, to put some distance between yourself and Aaron. You’re out of the car almost as soon as he turns off the engine, which probably looks weird as hell, but for your sanity you can’t give it too much thought.

The head detective and a junior detective give you a run down on the case while the other half of your team meets with officers at the crime scene. The head detective, a tall, handsome man in his forties, is looking at you like you’re a juicy steak and he hasn’t eaten in months; Derek notices, turns to you with a raised eyebrow and mouths ‘pheromones,’ Aaron is clearly unhappy about the detective’s lack of professionalism, and you couldn’t really care less about the attention. You just want to do your job and go home and touch yourself to thoughts of your boss… as one does.

The local police already have a board made up, so the three of you travel to speak with some witnesses, head back to the precinct, work the tip lines. Aaron seems to be looking at you more than usual, and when you get up to stretch your legs, he’s right behind you, following you out into the hall.

“Are you sure you're alright today?” he asks with a serious expression, hands on his hips. Your mouth waters. “You’ve been acting a little strange.”

“Stranger than normal?” You try to smile, to lighten the mood, but as oblivious as he’s been about everything else, he’s always been able to tell when you try to hide your emotions with humor.

“The last couple weeks? Yes.” He moves a little closer, and you try your best not to let it affect you—or at least not to let it show when it does. “You know by now that you can come to me anytime, for anything.” He doesn’t present it as a question, but it’s clear on his face that he’s looking for an answer.

“I know. I’m going through something… stupid,” you say with a shrug. “Something I should be able to handle, but it’s harder than I imagined.” He frowns, flicks his eyes over your face.

“Let me help you.”

“You can’t; trust me, you can’t,” you say, pleading with your voice, begging him to drop it. “I’ll get through it.” You shut your eyes briefly, exhale, and he reaches down to take one of your hands in his.

“Are you in trouble?” This is the most intimately he’s ever touched you, and it’s not just your body that sings; you know you’re in love with him, have been for a while, but focusing on the horny feelings is easier. It makes it feel like you have less to lose.

“No, it’s nothing like that. I just need some time. Thank you.” You squeeze his hand, and then Derek pokes his head into the hall behind him.

“We got a tip about the unsub barricading a house downtown; the detective is mobilizing SWAT,” he says; when he glances down at your hands, you pull yours softly out of Aaron’s grasp.

“What do you want us to do, boss?” you ask, effectively ending your conversation, and he tells you to get suited up with comms and Kevlar so the three of you can head to the new scene. Aaron is, unsurprisingly, a complete badass, storming the house along with SWAT, you at his side; it’s his way of reminding you that he trusts you, that it can and should go both ways—he is so perfectly predictable, reassuring with gestures over words even in a situation like this one. It does nothing to help you stop wanting him.

He’s a little rough with the unsub (and that doesn’t help either,) looks ruffled and kind of pissed when you climb in the SUV to head back to the precinct. Spencer, JJ, and Emily meet you there, and you take the opportunity to vent about how indescribably good Aaron has looked all day—Spencer bows out of the conversation early, but JJ and Emily are kind enough to listen to your insane, horny ramblings.

“He’s just so hot—he always has been, but the new suits? They’re so tight, and his shirts show off his tummy, and his pants show off his thighs… You guys will never understand the things I want to do to him.”

“Okay, he’s handsome enough, but you’re nasty about it—I can’t handle you,” JJ says, not for the first time. You groan in response.

“How can you say that? Have you fucking seen him? I’m not supposed to think nasty thoughts when he walks around looking like that?”

You feel yourself getting a little out of hand, and Emily and JJ look like they’re trying to shut you up, but you can’t stop yourself. It’s like the floodgates have opened.

“He’s never going to know what I want to do to him… what I want him to do to me. I tried so hard, and he didn’t even look at me. All I wanted to do was get on my knees for him and grab his ass so he could fuck my throat as hard as fucking possible—is that so much to ask for?” You pause, but neither of them say anything, just look scandalized. “I guess I’m going to have to name my vibrator Hotch now, since that’s clearly the closest I’ll ever get to him giving me an orgasm.”

“Do you really mean that?”

You jump a fucking foot, spin around, almost knocking Emily and JJ over in the process; Aaron is in front of you, his brow furrowed, arms crossed over his vest (he hasn’t taken that thing off yet? You threw yours on the table like the minute you got back), and your mouth opens and your eyes close at the same time.

Oh fucking fuck.

“We’re gonna… go,” Emily says awkwardly, and you open your eyes abruptly when Aaron speaks again.

“No, we’re going to go; come with me,” he tells you, and he turns and heads down the hall; you look back at Emily and JJ, swallow hard, and follow him, your heart beating fast.

He steps into a small room with a copy machine, table, shelves of paper and envelopes and other supplies, and closes the door behind you, engages the lock. You are torn between being very worried he’s going to fire you and super turned on, because this is definitely a fantasy you’ve had before.

“Aaron,” you begin, running a hand through your hair. “I’m sorry. I think it was the adrenaline; it makes me run my mouth and I can’t stop it, you know that.” He’s facing away from you, his hands on his hips again, and you can see the way his body moves when he sighs.

“Did you mean it, though?” When he turns to look at you, he doesn’t look angry, he looks… nervous. “Do you want me?” His reaction is unexpected—not great, but not necessarily bad—and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah. So fucking bad. And I’m sorry—” That’s as far into your apology as you get before his mouth is on yours, his hands on your face, lips pressing against you for a rough, eager kiss. Your hands move to his waist, pulling him closer by the vest, and he lifts you up onto the table, tugs down the v-neck of your t-shirt, mouths at your throat.

“You think I didn’t look at you?” he says when he pulls away for a breath, tipping your chin down so you’ll look into his eyes. “You think I didn’t see that lacy red bra, your perfect ass bent over in the tight skirt? You think I didn’t feel it pressed against me in the elevator, that I didn’t want to push that skirt up and sink inside you and take you there in front of everyone?”

You moan, chest heaving, twist your fingers in his hair and pull him in for another kiss, dripping and trembling at his admission.

“I would have let you,” you murmur against his lips, and there’s no doubt in your mind that you would have, if that’s what he’d wanted. “I would let you do anything: not just let you, but I’d want it, beg for it. I meant what I said—I’d get on my knees for you, anytime, anywhere, do whatever you want me to do. I want to be yours.”

He catches your mouth in another rough kiss, then puts his hands on your waist, guides you off the table, and flips open his belt, the fly of his pants.

“Oh god. What are you doing?” you ask, and he slides down his zipper, pulls you with him until his back hits the door.

“I’m giving you what you asked for,” he rasps, staring into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. It’s so fucking hot your pussy clenches.

You lick your lips, drop to your knees on the tile floor so hard it hurts, tug his pants open and pull out his thick, hard, veiny cock.

Your dreams and fantasies did not do it justice.

“Fuck. Thank you,” you mumble, looking up at him, and he wraps his hands in your hair, pulls tightly. You moan just from that and the heft of him in your hand. “Thank you.”

“Shh.” He scrapes his fingers over your scalp, hums as you start stroking him, licking the head. “Don’t thank me—I should be thanking you, beautiful, perfect girl. In what world do I get this?” There are lots of things you want to say to that, but you’ve waited long enough, will have to say them later.

You lick your lips, collect lots of saliva, and take him into your mouth, get your hands on his ass and dig your nails in. Aaron groans, tightens his fingers in your hair, and when you look up at him it feels like a fever dream, like it’s not real but a delicious figment of your imagination.

For a minute or two, you stroke him with a tight, wet mouth, and it’s got you aching between your legs, but he’s supposed to be fucking your throat, technically, if he’s giving you what you asked for. You pull off, tell him that, and he tugs your head back roughly, guides you back onto his cock and starts thrusting into your mouth, earning vibrating moans around it.

“God, you’re so perfect. How long have you been thinking about this? How long have you touched yourself to the thought of me fucking your pretty face?” He picks up the pace, pushes deeper when he sees you can handle it, and you squeeze his ass, feel your eyelids flutter as he uses your mouth, pulls your hair. “Are you a whore for me?” he grinds out, and the moan that rips from your throat is inhuman, embarrassing, and absolutely accurate. “Yes you are, baby, yes you are. My pretty whore, on your knees, mouth stretched wide and filled with cock.”

You’ve never been so turned on from a blow job, but this is Aaron, hot and dirty and forceful, everything you imagined and more. You squeeze him tighter, encourage rougher treatment, and he presses his hands against the back for your head, slams his dick in so deep it aches; you don’t gag, but it’s a near thing, and when he pulls you off you gasp for breath and whimper at the loss at the same time.

“Enough of that, baby. You were perfect, so good for me, almost choking on my cock, but I bet your pussy is wet and aching. Do you want me inside it?”

“Holy—yes, fuck, please. Please,” you breathe, and he helps you to your feet and then pushes you against the door, gets your pants down. His rough treatment has you whining, gripping the hair on the back of his head, and you kick off your boots and socks so you can step out of your pants completely. “Keep all this on,” you tell him, pants and shirt and tie and Kevlar vest and all, and he nods, kisses you deeply, presses two fingers inside you.

“Fuck,” he groans when you receive him easily, soft and wet and open, and he uses his free hand to sweep down your top, slipping the buttons loose so he can get a better view of your tits and black lace bra that’s holding them. “So beautiful, and finally mine,” he mutters against your throat, and you whine, let your head fall back against the door, and give in to the pleasure of his thick fingers moving inside you.

“Finally mine,” you murmur, tugging his hair, slamming down against his hand, and when you come it’s like a miracle; you cry out, clamp down, and wrap your free hand around his bicep and squeeze until you’re lightheaded, dazed, desperate for another.

You kiss, deep and passionate and filthy, and Aaron slides his fingers into your mouth, pumps them a few times, then kisses you again.

“Good girl. Are you ready for my cock now?” You pant, gasp, and nod your head, and he pushes your shirt off your shoulders, lifts your legs so you’ll wrap them around his waist, and pushes inside you. You both moan, kiss, moan again, and then you wrap your arms around his broad back, hook your fingers in his vest, and hold on while he pounds your body roughly against the door.

“Oh, Aaron, fuck. Yeah. Want you to slam your body against mine; want to feel it, want to feel all of you.” He looks into your eyes, breathing hard, fucks up into you, hands on your ass, his hips and torso pinning you in place.

“Sweet, pretty, slutty girl,” he pants, spreading you open and shoving himself inside your pussy. “You tried tempting me, and oh, did it work. I might not have shown it…” He ducks in to kiss the base of your throat and you cling tighter, rock against his hips. “But it worked. You dressed like a whore just for me, just so I’d notice you; do you I know went home and stroked my cock and came with your name on my lips?”

“Holy shit. That’s so hot.” You move a hand to his hair again, can’t not thread your fingers there now that it’s allowed. “Could have fucked me like this then. Could have come in my pussy, not your hand.”

“We’ll make up for lost time,” he promises, and he thrusts up with his whole body, so you can feel it pressed against yours—shoulders, chest, stomach, all the very best parts of him. “I’m not too much for you? Can you take it?”

“Perfect for me,” you gasp, holding tightly to his vest at his shoulder and his shirt at his hip, bouncing into his thrusts. “So perfect, want you. I can take it. I can take it, Aaron.” Your mouths meet for a messy, hot kiss, lots of tongue, and you groan. “Give it to me, give it all to me.”

He bends his knees a little more, fucks you so rough and hard your mouth falls open and all you can do is whimper, clutch him, gracelessly kiss back when he presses his lips to yours.

He comes first, holds tightly to your hip and pumps inside you, fills you and then some, so it drips out while he’s still inside. It feels sinful, even after everything, and with a few rough drags of his palm over your lace covered nipple, you tighten and grip him and gasp out his name.

You both slow, and then he turns you, leans back against the door for a little relief after holding you up for so long. He nuzzles into your hair, and you bury your face in his neck, and you kiss soft and sweet until you’re feeling stable enough to hop out of his arms and put your clothes back on. He rights his as well, and when you’re both put together he wraps you up in a hug, kisses you, holds you with soft hands on your cheeks.

“I really have waited so long for this.” He brushes his lips over yours, and you sigh. “You never indicated… I was trying to be professional. Then out of nowhere you were leaning over my desk and bending over the table, and I was a little blown away.” You nod, can see that, pull him down for a kiss.

“It’s the goddamn suits,” you say with a half smile, and he gives you a curious look. “Your new, better fitting suits? They fit you so fucking well it’s almost illegal; I’m thinking of pursuing charges against your tailor for reckless endangerment on behalf of my libido, and the coffee carafe, and my poor, worn out vibrator.” He chuckles, hugs you closer, squeezes you so tightly against his body you almost pass out from all the good things you feel.

“Maybe we can strike a deal,” he murmurs, pushing your hair back behind your ear, and you bite your lip, nod.

“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll think of something you can do to make it worth my while.” After a little more hugging and kissing, the two of you figure it’s time to emerge from the supply closet; you don’t see your team anywhere, which surprises you, but when you get to your phone and pull up your texts, it all makes sense.

Derek: Congrats on the sex. The four of us headed home because no one wants to ride with the two of you and your pheromones.

Emily: Yay, you did it!! Drinks on me next time we go out!

JJ: You guys are loud; don’t make a habit of that.

Penelope: I hear congrats are in order! And by hear, I don’t mean hear. There’s NOT an audio clip or anything, so don’t worry about that!!

Spencer: Emily took an audio clip. Is it normal for girls to enjoy being called a whore? You don’t have to answer that.

You take a very deep breath, give him the gist of the messages—you’re on your own, they heard at least part of it, there is some potentially damning evidence that needs to be destroyed—and you leave the precinct to head home in a better mood than you’ve been in in a very long time.

Aaron takes you out for a late dinner, and he spends the night at your place, falls asleep warm and solid and very naked in the middle of your bed.

Taglist ❤️: @thaddeusly @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc @wishuhadstayed @averyhotchner

[royallyprincesslilly]

Sneak Peek: Title: All Grown Up Now

Coming Soon!

****Not Edited****

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Why do you hate him so much?”

It’s not that you hated him. You hated his type. The type that came off cocky and charismatic with just a few words and the stance of their legs. The type that knew they weren’t hideous and knew they could talk anything with ears and a basic understanding of the English language into bed, the type who seemed to captivate everyone around them with nothing more than a smile. You’d seen his type everywhere; you knew them well and you weren’t impressed.

It didn’t have anything to do with his mesmerizing eyes that were deeper than twenty thousand leagues under the sea, or that he was so tall that he easily towered over you making you feel smaller than you were, or that well past thirty his body was anything but a dad bod, or that his smile could melt all the ice in the artic significantly speeding up global warming. Hell, it didn’t even matter that on several occasions through the years you’d gotten examples of not only his strength, but his charm, and seen glimpses of that non-dad bod that made your mouth dryer than Egypt. None of that contributed to the reasons why he annoyed you. Right?

“He’s annoying,” you simply stated shrugging your shoulders.

Your bother and Yvette looked at each other with quizzical looks. Clearly, they didn’t know what you meant. Your brother shrugged making a move to walk away but Yvette’s eyes lingered on you like she knew something your oblivious brother didn’t that only women would know. she didn’t say anything though.

 Suddenly the bell rang, and you froze in spot.

 “That’s him now,” your bother informed. Yvette was the one to open the door and in walked all six feet of him.

 “Bro!”

 Your bother echoed him and the two approached one another getting into their frat secret handshake which was a whole-body mini dance sequence full of moves that looked like they belonged in a Morehouse step group. You knew your brother had moves but seeing him do the moves and pulling them off made your belly flutter. The fuck, you thought. When the two men hit the woah you actually had to sit down. the fuck, you thought again.

 “Yvette, how are you?”

 He hugged her keeping the smile on his face.

 “How are you, Chris?”

 “Good, good. You look as beautiful as ever.”

 “Back off C, we may share most things but we ain’t sharing my woman,” your brother spoke up. Chris snorted.

 “Don’t worry. Caring is sharing but I don’t want you to share her, you two belong together. Now other things--,” he trailed off making your bother chuckle.

 His eyes landed on you and his half smirk and smile fell. You watched as his eyes looked you up and down once, then twice. Before those cornflower steel-tinged eyes made a third trip, he shook his head slightly then glanced at your brother.

 “Is this--.”

 Your brother nodded. You straightened your back feeling the scrutiny of his eyes. They felt like weights. It felt like he was inspecting you, measuring you up to the last version of you he saw which was over four years ago.

 “Nah, you’re fuckin’ with me.”

 “Nope.”

 “This is b—binky?”

 You rolled your eyed hard then sighed. Here we go, you thought.

 “No way. Wow.”

 He took two steps closer, but you didn’t budge from your seat though some part of you wanted to stand tall knowing your heels would afford you plenty of height on him. Bolting upright, your stomach sank. While you were taller, you still didn’t reach his head. Which meant he still towered over you. Asshole, you thought.

 “Wow, binky. I’m—wow.”

 “I have a name and binky isn’t it.”

 Chris smirked then smiled that winning smile of his. You wanted to snort.

 “I know your name; it’s just binky has always suited you better.”

 You planted your hand on your hip sticking it out knowing your stance accentuated your curves.

 “Even now?”

 Chris smirked and he looked like he wanted to scan you over again, but he didn’t. Instead, he backed off.

 “It’s good to see you binky. Four years is a long time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[sativa-misery]

how would dilf jotaro, who’s very insecure bc he now has the dad bod pudge, wrinkles, and greying hair, react to a younger girl showing an interest in him? 👉👈 can be nsfw, sfw or both, i don’t mind!! i’m just very curious about this

cw / dilf!jotaro, sugaring + blowjob

nsfw content under the cut: minors don’t interact !

jotaro’s appearance has never meant too much to him, although of course, he tries to look presentable at all times he’s not vain and he’s certainly not centring his life around how he looks. yet he has to admit he’s not entirely happy with how he’s started to let himself go with old age; a once young, handsome and fit man, now turned old and grey with extra weight on him.

divorce had evidently hit him and now here he was, a “free” man. his personality however doesn’t stray far from his younger years; keeping to himself and abrasive in nature towards others. your introduction to his life wasn’t something he was particularly interested in and he didn’t make any attempts at getting to know you but somehow, you’d managed to weasel your way to the front and centre of his attention.

jotaro doesn’t see the desire you see in him, but he doesn’t question why you’d find him so attractive- it was clear that it wasn’t for money as you had no idea who jotaro kujo was or the money that he had possessed. he wouldn’t complain about the attraction you had towards him though, not many women had expressed theirs to older men and if anything, it was an ego boost to hear how much you loved his greying hair, bigger build and the way his wrinkles were more pronounced when he smiled.

it may not have been the best time to be thinking about your relationship but blowing him in a lexus while was driving through tokyo traffic, also wasn’t the best timing. when he wasn’t trying to reconnect with his daughter or working under the speedwagon foundation, jotaro could be found spending his time and money with you by his side. it wasn’t as if he was short on money and he didn’t have any debt to pay, so why not use his money on something other than bills.

designer clothes were never a necessity for the japanese man, nor were they a want for him but jotaro had developed a love for seeing you dolled up in the likes ‘chanel’ and ‘hanae mori’ garments. not to mention when your ‘shiseido - 222 ginza red lipstick’ was smeared both around your both and the base of his cock.

perhaps the relationship wasn’t the most conventional and he definitely wouldn’t be bringing you around holly or jolyne- he had certainly gone down the same path as grandpa and neither of the two other women in his life would approve, but maybe he could get used to having someone like you at his beck and call.

[jediknightobiwan]

Boba smut, you say?

Could I get some dad bod Boba love post-Mandalorian season 2, if you've finished the new episode? Because our man definitely deserves some love after that shit. I personally headcannon him as being dominant AF, with lots of pet names, and a tendency to be a little rougher. Maybe some post-battle fucking to wind down in Slave I.

Thanks!

OFC We love Dad Bods here I will NOT tolerate Temura hate like at all. We don’t expect women to stay the same all their lives and we shouldn’t expect the same of men.

In talks with @emilykjh we decided that Boba decidedly, is a brat tamer so I’m definitely going along the dominant caregiver route with him.

Also tbh and probably shockingly I haven’t watched the new season all the way through AT ALL it was emotionally too much for me when it started so now I can binge it whenever 😅 I just learn things through gifs cause I don’t mind spoilers! So things may be very Vague when it comes to plot or I’ll just go with what I’ve gathered happens after the last episode. But let’s do some Older Boba stuff yes, everyone who understood the significance of Boba’s appearance better say thank you Mr. Temuera for your service.

Boba Fett x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Caregiver/Little BDSM relationship, Daddy Kink, Age Gap (cmon he’s in his 50’s), slight drool kink, slight degradation, slight choking

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                                                  [[READ MORE]]

Your ears perk up at the sound of heavy bootsteps on their way and you quickly rush to clean up your little area. Ever since Boba had taken his throne and conquered most of the underworld you and him and Fennec who you adored had made a nice little home for yourselves. What Boba teasingly called your nest was a corner of his throne room that you (and Fennec) had padded and stuffed with pillows, blankets, stuffed animals, one very long and squishy pillow and a very very large cushion you called your tuffet. It was cute little safe space you sat, read and napped in when you wanted a little alone time.

It was usually a kind of organized chaos but lately you had let it get a bit wild and before Boba had left earlier he’d told you to have it cleaned up by the time he was back, and like a true Little who usually forgot orders once they were given and wasn’t reminded you had become distracted with other things. Which is why now you were slightly sweating under your soft robe as you scrambled to set everything in its proper place so he would never know you’d-

The steps had stopped echoing. You suddenly realized besides the slick of fabric between your fingers and your little pants that the room had actually been quiet for a minute or so. You swallowed a little hard but continued your work, spreading out soft blanket on your tuffet and then tucking it underneath. Finally, you smoothed your front and turned with a smile ready for your lover.

“Daddy! You’re home! See I uhm..I did my one chore today!” You were beaming, a little sweat on your brow and your voice was sweet and welcoming. In return Boba tilted his helmeted head at you in such a way that you knew what was he was saying without him needing to voice it.

Really? Did you? Is what that look said and you fidgeted slightly, lower lip jutting out every so softly.

Well-it still counts! Doesn’t it?? Your look said and after another moment of silence you hear a sigh come from him and he finally comes toward you with a gloved hand extended to cup your face.

“I suppose I’ll let it slide today,” he says, thumb gliding over your lower lip as his eyes bore into you from behind the visor. “I’m too tired to properly punish you for waiting until the last second anyway.”

The words were slightly worrying but if something was really wrong he would’ve told you, so you brushed it off and kissed his thumb gently.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you promise, reaching to cup his helmet in your hands and then bringing your foreheads together in a keldabe kiss. He hums deep in his throat, his way of saying that you’d better.

“What can I do tonight? A hot bath? A massage?” You gasped and jumped a little, grinning. “Both??”

Boba chuckles and removes his helmet, the smile still on his handsome scarred face. “How about just a massage pet? My old muscles could use it.”

“Ah you’re not old cyare.”

You giggle at his eyebrow raise and pat his cheeks then push gently on his chest plate to back him into the hallway and towards his bedroom. Once inside the large yet fairly bare room you begin the slow and intimate process of removing his armor for him. It was something you’d been doing for awhile now, ever since you’d settled into your roles. He did so much...it was one sweet thing you could do for him back.

The tension was practically melting out of your love’s shoulders as the beskar came off. Your arms had long since adjusted to the armor’s weight over the months of this sweet ritual and the warmth of Boba’s soft eyes as he watched you easily carry his prized possessions never failed to make you feel like the most important person in the galaxy. Your skin felt fully flushed by the time he was sitting on the bed and you’d removed his boots for him.

“My sweet little Dove...,” Boba murmurs, reaching out his now ungloved hands for your hips and bringing you closer, his face now level with your chest. You smile he nuzzles against your soft skin and hum happily, arms sliding into position around his broad shoulders without a second thought.

Dove. How you loved your pet name from him. You were his sweet thing, his Little, his pure (he insisted you were pure compared to him and you’d given up trying to convince him otherwise) darling treasure. Your soft lips pressed kisses to his head and you murmured, “My Daddy...,” to which you could feel his smile against your skin just stoking flames inside you.

You remained entertwined for awhile longer, both just caressing each other sweetly and basking in the loving bubble you created each time you were together. And then you remembered what you were supposed to be doing and gasped, pulling away to look down at Boba.

“Your massage!”

Boba blinks at you in confusion for a second and then laughs, keeping a tight grip on your hips even as you go to pull away and get the oil. He gently grips your chin -effectively stopping your struggling-and brings your lips to his. You sigh softly into the kiss and simply melt like wax beneath a flame into his arms-apt considering it immediately stoked the soft fire that had begun to burn in your belly the moment you saw him into a good sized blaze.

A whine escapes your lips even as Boba depeens the kiss and pulls you onto his lap fully with your crotches rubbing together sinfully.

“Don’t laugh at me Daddy,” you whine, kissing his broad nose and then going back to his mouth. Your arms slide down around his waist and you squeeze, taking petty pleasure in the way his breath escapes him when you do. “It’s mean!”

Your Caregiver seems to, funnily enough, care, very little about your plight since as you whine he just hums and runs his big hands down to your ass and squeezes none too gently. He grins devilishly as you jump and kisses you again, lingering longer this time and swiping his tongue over your lips before he pulls away.

“So what if it is? You like it when I’m mean Dove baby...you know you can’t lie to me.” Boba jerks you closer to him and ruts his hips upwards against you, causing you to whine loudly as want shoots through your core painfully.

“Yeah baby that’s what I thought....you like it when I’m mean. Big bad mean Daddy...ain’t that right?” The older man swats at your ass when you don’t answer, your brain becoming mushy already from the feel of his body beneath your hands and his impressive cock only growing harder and longer against the apex of your thighs. “I asked you a direct question little Dove. You know I don’t like it when you don’t answer.”

After shaking your head to clear it just a little and your hands balling up his undershirt to hang on for dear life you manage a nod with your mouth open just a tad, unnoticed by you but very noticed by your lover. His eyes drop to your lips and he growls slightly, strong hands kneading at the soft flesh of your ass before he delivers two hard, stinging pops to your backside.

“Speak, cyar’ika, speak when Daddy tells you to.”

Maker you are just gone for him. You swallow the water that had gathered in your mouth at the rough handling and say clearly, full of need that that’s right, Daddy is a big bad man...your big bad man...and you even elaborate on how you love him so for it. Wetting your lips you rock against him as he basks in your obedience and drinking in his soft moan like wine, your lips rubbing against his.

“Let me massage you Daddy...I said I would...cmon. Please? Let me help?” The groan Boba emits tells you that he’s thinking of something else now, something with him on top but before he can open his mouth to give an order your bratty, slightly manipulative side comes out and you use your saccharine please Daddy do this for me or I’ll be oh so sad voice to plead to him.

“Oh please Daddy? Let me make you feel better. You said yourself you’re tired! You need a rest, just a brief one and then...” You untie your robe and let it fall, your whole body bare to him now, causing the erection between you to pulse. Your fingertips graze his throat as you tilt his face up towards yours and bite his lower lip teasingly. “You can massage my insides with that big cock of yours~ How’s that sound?”

Judging by the growl in his throat and chest- Boba likes the idea very much, and you have to fight to keep the smirk off your face. Drawing on some confidence just to tease him more you get off his lap and order him to strip and lay on the soft king sized bed the two of you shared. You could see his brown eyes narrow, debating on whether or not to just grab you and throw you on the bed and mount you like a fucking animal, but when he stood something popped in his shoulder audibly...and he stripped without a word.

The control you had over your face slipped and your grin shined out in full force as your older boyfriend complied to your demands. Really he was just a big softy with as much love to give as he had muscles and cute love handles. While he disrobed you found the bottle of massage oil he’d brought you back from one of his excursions that had multiple uses when came to making things easier, and fluffed the pillow in the middle of the bed that he always used. Your bed was so nice and so soft with lots of room for the two of you and yet Boba always slept in the middle, arms right around you and you near the edge facing the bathroom.

But you didn’t mind, you thought as you watched him lay down on his stomach with his head cradled by the now fluffy pillow and his tan body stretched out of the dark sheets. However he wanted to sleep-even if he sometimes squeezed too hard during a dream-was fine with you, as long as you were together.

‘Not gonna stand around all afternoon lookin’ at my ass are you?” You blinked and focused on Boba who was now smirking at you.

“Pbbbbt,” you said with a roll of your eyes. “No of course not! But if I was, who could blame me? It is a wonderful sight.” You climbed onto the bed as he chuckled. Knowing it would be uncomfortable for him and his still hard cock if you sat on his hips, you opted to sit more on his juicy ass instead. He hummed at the weight of you and relaxed into the pillow.  

“Well if you think so it must be true,” he mumbles, “you are almost always right little Dove.”

“I am always right,” you corrected, dribbling the ever warm oil onto his broad back. He purred, and you knew it was because of the oil, but you liked to think it was because of you so you smirked. “That’s what I thought~”

You went to work then on his sore muscles, flexing your own to work the knots out with your skilled hands. Boba let his noises out freely as you worked; grunting, groaning, moaning and even at times whimpering with your palms smoothing over every inch of him you could reach.

The sun had sunk a bit by the time you were done and Boba rolled onto his back so you could finally straddle his hips. The evidence of your arousal from massaging him and his cute little noises was pressed against his balls. Your hands were on his chest and he was smoothing his own up your back slowly, sending shivers up your spine.

“My Dove...,” Boba starts on a soft sigh, his hands pulling down now to your hips to begin a gentle rocking. His cock was hardening again between the two of you and your own arousal was growing each second. “You love such a man like me? Old, a bit chubby, scarred?”

A soft sigh escaped you at the rocking, finally just a little bit of the release you had been craving since his return. You looked deeply, lovingly into Boba’s beautiful eyes. To you he was the most beautiful man in the galaxy, no matter how much he complained about his aching joints or how he was too old for you.

“Oh silly Daddy...” You sighed, taking the bottle of oil one more time and drizzling just a little on his perfect cock before taking it in your hand. His eyes darken as he watches you tilt your hips and line thick head of him up with your hole, his large hands gripping your hips tightly with anticipation. Taking the head of his cock you slap it against your hole before popping it inside and sinking down so slowly you knew his hands were going to leave bruises from gripping you so tight.

Once he was fully seated inside you you rotated your hips and opened your eyes just enough to give him a heady look. “As if I was destined for anyone else...”

You managed a wink before succumbing fully to your want for your lover, the fire he’d been stoking now turning into a raging storm with his thickness stretching you out perfectly. You both reached for each other at the same time and your mouths collided hotly as you bounced on him at an already quick pace. No time to adjust fully, fuck, Maker it just felt so good to be impaled on him again that you were frantic and starving for it. Teeth clashed, fingernails marks were definitely being left in sensitive areas and after just a minute or so you pulled away from the messy kissing to angle yourself better and slam onto Boba.

Your head was thrown back beautifully as you screamed your devotion to him, to his perfect fucking cock that was literally making you drool even while you were split open by it. Boba growled seeing the slick moisture on your lips and he sat up, yanking you close with a strong hand on the back of your neck. His hips met a bounce of yours and you cried out-only to have the noise muffled by a big thumb in your mouth. His other arm was right around you waist, keeping you on him but unmoving.

“That’s my sweet baby...suck on Daddy’s thumb...yeah just like that-fuck.” Even cockdrunk you knew how to work your lover up, sucking on his thumb dutifully and as enthusiastically as you did your favorite appendage of his. You even took his one hand in both your smaller ones to bring the digit further inside and you could swear Boba pulsed so hard inside you you thought he’d finished for a second.

He pushed down on your tongue hard and dragged your jaw with him, and much to your initial chagrin and then immediate arousal, let a long stream of drool pool out and fall where you were connected with him. You moaned at the filth of it and at the complete submissive state you were in. Literally, you were in the palm of Boba Fett’s hand.

Boba groaned and smirked at you, looking at the wet spot and then back at you. “Such a good pet aren’t you? I love it when you get me soaked little one~”

Maker you felt like exploding right then! But he wasn’t done with you, oh no. He pulled his thumb from your obscenely wet mouth, sucked your salvia from it and then rolled, pulling out of you with a wet echoing sound. He easily manhandled you with your hips popped up and grabbed your pillow to bury your face in. He slid back home with no resistance and you moaned freely, your eyes rolling back and your lower lip getting caught between your teeth.

“Mmmmm my sweet little pet...such a good slut for me aren’t you? Always so needy...so ready for Daddy to come home and take care of you...” As he spoke he’d started thrusting into you, gaining in speed. “Fuck...baby, I love you so fucking much, so, fucking, much!”

Now he was straight pummeling you. Your voice was going to be nonexistent when he was through with you if this kept up, your nails digging into your pillow so hard your knuckles were white and you could do nothing but spread your legs wider for him like the slut he’d called you. You were Boba Fett’s personal slut, his little Dove and his soulmate-nothing in the galaxy could be better than this.

As he neared his end he made sure to drag the fat head of his cock along those special spots inside you he knew so well while his mouth bit and sucked on the external spots until your toes curled so tightly he joked that they may never uncurl, the smug bastard. His lips found your neck again in a sweet spot as he bent over you, slamming so deep inside you could taste his precum on your tongue.

“Cum for me baby,” he murmurs, callused thumbs flicking over your nipples before one palm encloses over your throat and squeezes the sides deliciously. “Cum for Daddy little one.”

It was no question, no suggestion, it was a demand. And like the good Little you could be when you wanted, you obeyed. One last scream was ripped from your throat as you were pushed off that ledge into white hot pleasure so perfect it enveloped your whole body. Boba held you as you became tense and then limp, his own release coming not far after yours (not surprising given how hard your insides had been squeezing him) and as always overfilling you in a way you could only describe as obscenely delicious.

“Good job little Dove. I’m so proud.” Came a voice from above and behind you. You knew it was Boba, you knew yet somehow a little voice in your head thought it was the Maker talking to you. Your lips quirked in a little smile as exhausted gasps left your now limp body, only held up by Boba’s hands and his cock that was still pumping cum into you. You felt lips along your neck so lovingly and you sighed contentedly.

“I love you...” you whispered, beginning to fall asleep with him still cradled inside you.

He chuckled softly and kissed the tip of your ear, rubbing your back soothingly before very slowly sliding out of you.

“I love you too baby...go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

It would be hours before you woke, cleaned up and tightly nestled into Boba’s arms as always with the two of you so close it was like you had been born that way. And when you did you squeezed his middle tightly enough for him to softly grunt and then settled back with him, feeling for all the galaxy like you were the luckiest person alive because no one could love you like Boba Fett. And you couldn’t imagine loving anyone else.

@emilykjh @sailorsquadgoals @penfullofwordsaheadfullofstories @ohdeargodnotyouagain @ihaveashield @ezraslittlebirdie @labyrinth-runner @asaucecoveredsomething @thisainttheway @anakinswhore @sleepwithacommunist

[peepeepotter]

Chapter 2: You have a very beautiful...wand.

Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Draco kinda body shaming George/male body insecurity, and just...so many uncomfortable moments. If you’ve watched the show you’ll probably get over it sooner. Also cursing but y’all might have to get used to that with me, I curse like a sailor.

Word Count: 2.5K

Series Masterlist

A/N: If you would like to be added to the tag list you can message/ask/comment and I’ll add you! If you asked to be added and you weren’t on the tag list, let me know! I forget a lot of things, haha.

“So where are you taking her for dinner?” Draco sat at the island in the kitchen, staring at George as George reached into the fridge to grab a beer.

“Uh. I don’t know. The Three Broomsticks? I don’t really know if you can call it a date.”

“Well, first off. The Three Broomsticks? Our bar? Don’t ruin the bar, dude. Take her literally anywhere else. Second off, why wouldn’t it be a date?” Draco asked.

“I don’t know, she’s the first person I’ve gone out with since Angelina.”

“Woah, big deal alert!” Y/N said as she walked into the kitchen, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl. “I wanna be included in these conversations! I’m a girl, I can help.” She smiled.

“Yeah, but you’re Y/N. You’re like...you’re more like a puppy than a human girl.” Draco turned, giving her a disappointed look.

“Whatever, either way. I guess I’m nervous so I asked this girl out because I don’t really care how things end up with her.” George offered as an explanation. Y/N cringed at that. She knew she had to start getting used to how the men in this loft talked about women, but she couldn’t help but think of herself in that same scenario.

“Well, are you going to go hit the gym?” Draco asked. George furrowed his eyebrows.

“Why?”

“To get rid of your belly.”

“What are you talking about?” George asked, looking down at his stomach.

“The little pouch where you keep your extra cookies.” Y/N smiled, pinching her own little “kupa” as she and Ginny called it.

-

George stood in front of his mirror in his bedroom, his shirt lifted just enough to see his lower stomach. His brow was furrowed. He didn’t have that big of a tummy. Sure, he wasn’t carved like Draco, but who the hell had time to work out to be that muscular? It’s not like he had—what did Y/N call the look she liked?—a dad bod. He took his shirt all the way off.

He turned around and started playing music on his record player. Y/N had started showing him more muggle music, which was a bit more his vibe. Reggae started playing when he put the spindle on the vinyl. He turned it up as loud as it could get.

Y/N looked up when she heard the reggae music playing from her bedroom. She smiled, glad that George was enjoying the music she had introduced to him. She looked back down at the paper she was trying to grade, but kept getting distracted by the blaring music. She sighed, and thought for a moment. She didn’t want to ruin his appreciation for muggle music, but she really wanted to have these papers graded by the end of tonight so she could give them back to her students tomorrow. She got up from her bed.

“George!” She shouted over the music as she walked across the hall to his bedroom.

“George!” She called again, now knocking on the door. She supposed he couldn’t hear because of how loud the music was. She sighed, just opening the door as she rolled her eyes.

“Geo—oh my god.” She covered her mouth with her hand, the other hand still on the doorknob as she walked in to see George fully naked.

“Y/N! Get out!” George yelled, grabbing a pillow to cover his manhood. Y/N squealed out a giggle and slammed the door shut, running to her room. She closed the door to her own bedroom, now both hands covering her face. Just when she felt like she had gotten close to one of the guys in the loft, she saw him naked! She felt so embarrassed, and she couldn’t imagine how George felt.

-

“I saw George naked yesterday.” She whispered to the other three men in the loft’s kitchen.

“What?!”

“How?”

“Wait, you’ve seen George naked before I have?” Draco asked.

“Well, he was playing music really loud, and I kept yelling to turn it down. I even knocked on the door and waited, but I figured he couldn’t hear me, so I just walked in.”

“Oh god.” Harry put his head in his hands, leaning onto the kitchen island.

“Poor guy. He must be so embarrassed.” Said Neville.

“Well, not much to be embarrassed about, amiright?” Harry offered, lifting his head up and chuckling.

“Well, that’s true.” Neville laughed. It helped cheer Y/N up, and she laughed, nodding too.

“Wait, so all of you have seen George naked except for me? I haven’t seen one of my best friends—”

“Only friends—” Harry interrupted.

“Naked?!” Draco finished.

“It’s not a big deal. Why are you making this a thing?” Y/N asked, turning to Draco.

“Well, wait, how have you two seen him naked?” Draco asked, ignoring Y/N.

“He’s basically my brother. We grew up together. Shared locker rooms, bathrooms, pools, penis fights.” Harry shrugged.

“We were in the same house at Hogwarts. The guys all shared the bathrooms.” Neville offered.

“Literally what the fuck—” Draco droned on. Y/N heard George’s door open and rushed to the front door, attempting to block it.

“Listen George, I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to butt in on you while you were...well while you were doing whatever you were doing but you couldn’t hear me over the music!” George had sunglasses and a hat on, attempting to avoid anyone looking at him at all. When Y/N blocked the door, he walked up to her. Her breathing stopped when he came close to her, not expecting him to get so close. He picked her up from the armpits and moved her to the other side of him, quickly turning around and opening the door to make a quick attempt at leaving.

“That was awful.” Draco said from behind Y/N. “But at least you’ve seen his penis.” He sighed.

“Why do you WANT to see it?” Harry asked, also behind Y/N.

“What if he dies, and aurors need me to identify his body, but the only thing that’s left is his penis. I’ll have to say ‘Sorry officer, I can’t help, because I’ve never seen his penis.’” Draco said dramatically.

“Again, why do you want to see his penis?”

-

Y/N sat at the kitchen island, eating her dinner alone. George stormed into the apartment and into the kitchen, getting a beer out of the fridge.

“I have something for you!” Y/N said, grabbing her purse from the stool next to hers. She took out a stick decorated with phoenix feathers and other various animal feathers. “It’s a feeling wand. When someone has the feeling wand, they have to share their feelings. You see, I am feeling like I want to know what you’re feeling.” She smiled, jutting the wand out towards George. He gave her an empty stare, leaning against the counter, drinking his beer. He rolled his eyes, leaning onto the kitchen island. He grabbed the wand, and held it for a long moment. Then, he broke it in half.

“Believe it or not, this is not the first time someone has broken my feeling wand.” She looked back into her purse, pulling out a nearly identical, although significantly smaller wand. “So I keep a travel-sized one.” George rolled his eyes again. “Come on! Let’s just talk about it!”

“You want to talk about it? You ruined my date!”

-

George’s date, Persephone, welcomed him into her apartment. She grabbed his face, bringing her lips to his nearly immediately. George kissed back out of instinct, but as Persephone tried to take his shirt off, he inched away from her. She pulled away, furrowing her eyebrows.

“Do you want me to go first?” “Wha—”

Before George could even finish his thought, she had her shirt off, and she had not been wearing a bra. He gestured towards her, confused.

“What—look at you!”

“Okay, now it’s your turn!” She smiled. George mimed taking his shirt off and throwing it across the room. Persephone quirked her head to the side out of confusion.

“I don’t understand. Do you want to like...take it slow?”

Which is exactly how George ended up awkwardly cuddling with this girl for two hours before she fell asleep and he left.

-

“I didn’t mean to!”

“Any time I take off my clothes I just hear your weird little laugh! This is very damaging to my ego.” He yelled, walking to his room.

“I’m sorry! It wasn’t funny!” Y/N said, running in front of him and blocking the entrance to his bedroom. “You have a very beautiful...wand.”

“Then why did you laugh?” He crossed his arms.

“It was just an awkward moment and I don’t know how to deal with that!” George once again picked her up, turning around to set her down.

“You need to stop doing this! I’m trying to have a mature conversation!” Y/N yelled while he lifted her into the air, eyebrows furrowed in anger.

“A mature conversation? You laughed because you saw my penis, you can’t even say the word penis, and I’m the one stopping you from having this ‘mature’ conversation?” He asked, turning back around to face her.

“I’m sorry.” She sighed.

“I just want to have meaningless sex with beautiful women.” George sighed.

“Maybe you don’t want that! Maybe you’re not ready for that!”

“I have a wand. I want meaningless sex with beautiful women.” He rolled his eyes, turning around and entering his bedroom.

“You know what you have to do now?” Draco suddenly asked behind her, anyone could hear the devilish grin in his voice.

“What?” She asked, hoping he could point her in the right direction of fixing her friendship.

-

Which is how Y/N ended up butt naked wrapped in a towel, in George’s room, waiting for him to get back home. Now she faced his mirror, quickly opening and closing the towel. “I can do this.” She huffed. She turned around towards the door when she heard the front door open and shut, but quickly she heard a female voice moaning at George. “Oh my god.” She whispered, laying down quickly on the ground. She had never wished so much that she owned an invisibility cloak than she did at this very moment.

George and Persephone entered his bedroom, making out. Persephone sat on the bed, asking him to take his clothes off. With renewed confidence, he took his shirt off. Y/N started crawling towards the door, hoping the activities taking place would distract the two from seeing her. However, as George pulled his pants down, he came face to face with Y/N. They both started screaming, and she stood, abandoning the towel, attempting to escape. She couldn’t open the door, it was stuck. She closed her eyes tight, and breathed out.

“Can you open the door?” She asked, turning around. This time, George covered his face with one of his hands, trying not to laugh. Persephone was horrified.

-

While the nudity fiasco was happening, Neville, Harry, and Draco sat on the couch in the living room.

“I still don’t really understand why you want to see it so bad?” Harry asked.

“Look, it’s just weird. For some reason it’s making me feel left out. And you know what? I’ve been having a rough go lately. My students are really struggling to understand this one concept that I don’t know how to reteach to make it easier for them. Plus, the girl I've been in love with for a decade is very likely going to get married here soon.” He huffed.

Neville and Harry glanced at each other when he said this last thing. They had both had a feeling that he had been in love with their mutual friend, but he had never said anything. They both knew their fellow charms teacher and friend was engaged, and she had been one of the first people after the war to forgive and befriend Draco.

“We’ll see what we can do.”

-

George stood, ranting about privacy and personal space while holding the feeling wand. The other four in the apartment sat on the couch, this time Y/N was fully clothed. Harry raised his hand, requesting the feeling wand.

“I feel like Draco has been having a very tough time lately.” George furrowed his eyebrows, confused about what this had to do with anything he just said. Neville took the feeling wand next. “I feel like Draco has been friends with you for a really long time, and has gained your trust enough to see your penis.” Neville said, George covered his face with his hands.

“Oh my god, I need to move out.” George mumbled to himself. Neville handed Draco the feeling wand.

“I feel validated.” Y/N was really struggling to keep in her giggles at this point. She didn’t really understand why Draco cared so much, but found the other boys' support kind of endearing.

“THIS! This is what I mean! I just want to go one day without someone seeing or wanting to see my penis!” George yelled.

“I feel like George is yelling.” Neville said, holding the feeling wand. George snatched the feeling wand out of his hand and stormed off to his room.

-

George heard a knock at his bedroom door. “Come in.” He said. Y/N entered, her eyes covered and started knocking on the wall of his bedroom. “Y/N,” George laughed. “I said come in, you can stop knocking and open your eyes.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your hookup.” Y/N frowned, coming to lay next to George on his bed. “I really just wanted us to get back to normal and Draco said something along the lines of ‘he showed you his now you show him yours’ and for some reason I listened.”

“It’s okay. But it was definitely stupid to listen to Draco’s advice. Next time go to Harry for advice.” George laughed, turning on his side to face the girl next to him. She stared at the ceiling,

“I’ve been working on something.” She grinned, turning on her side to face him.

“Go for it.”

“Penis.” Y/N said calmly, without any hint of a smile or laugh.

“I’m proud of you.” George chuckled, reaching over to pat her shoulder. “I’m sorry I made this such a long thing. I think, by the way, that maybe you’re right. I don’t think I’m ready for meaningless sex with beautiful women.” He scrunched his nose.

“You mean Persephone won’t be coming back.” Y/N held back a smile, avoiding dumb thoughts in her head.

“She definitely won’t be coming back.” George laughed, remembering the fiasco. Y/N sat up, ready to leave. She paused when she got to the end of the bed, looking back at him.

“Did you...did you see like...everything?” Y/N’s cheeks shone red under George’s dim lighting in his room. He giggled.

“Yes.”

“Like—”

“Everything.” He confirmed. She blushed, standing up and walking to the door.

“Goodnight, George.” She turned around to smile at him.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” He smiled in return.

Tag list: @yllwtaxi @ememseay @droppingthegloves @wassup-peoples @dejayoon @astoriaplease @postsbyjenipeo @edmunds-torch @ummmlana @kennreid @charming-fan-girl @expelliarmusmyass

[monstersandmaw]

Male werewolf x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a patreon tier reward, and I hope you enjoy my take on their big, dad-bodded werewolf OC, Lowe. It's been up on Patreon on early release and is now up on Tumblr for you to enjoy.

Content: playful banter, fluff, the briefest flicker of angst, some dominant tendencies in Lowe (it's not D/s though, for anyone who's not into that), and a reader who gives as good as she gets. Wordcount: 2792

___

As you yanked the door to the campus cafe open with about twice as much force as it needed, you caught a glimpse of Lowe working behind the counter. Of course, there was a massive queue at this time of day; at the midpoint of the afternoon when people were thinking about either finishing up early or knuckling down for a caffeine-fuelled all-nighter.

Engrossed as he’d looked in his work before, he glanced up as if he’d sensed your presence, his warm eyes flicked briefly in your direction as the door opened, and he offered you a quick, fond, twitch of the lips before turning back to the masterpiece of latte art in his hands. Even at that distance, you felt your body relaxing a little more around him. In the time since he’d made some playfully snarky comment about your Pokémon shirt a few months ago - which had, in fact, led to a joint outing on campus playing Pokémon Go together - you and he had fallen into an easy friendship.

You tried not to snarl softly to yourself as the woman at the front of the queue, old enough to be a post-grad perhaps, leaned on the counter and flirted openly with him, but at the end of the day, what claim did you have to him anyway? Lowe was your friend, and as much as you’d like to think you might be the tall, long-haired guy’s type (he was certainly yours, with that ‘powerful-yet-soft-around-the-edges’ dad bod he had going on, and that self-assured confidence that tipped just pleasantly shy of being arrogance), you couldn’t really be sure. After all, you’d seen him getting pretty close with a guy friend of his, so for all you knew, he wasn’t even interested in women, but you’d never really discussed that. The most personal things had got so far was Bloodborne bosses and beloved DnD characters, which was also fine.

The queue slowly dwindled in front of you, and when you stepped up to the counter, Lowe turned from the machine on the far counter and plonked a large cup down before your lips had even opened to begin your order. His grin was positively wolfish, all teeth and glinting eyes.

You pouted and snapped, “And what if I wanted a chai latte with soy milk today?”

He raised one thick eyebrow as he popped the takeaway lid onto the cup with a distractingly big hand, and said flatly, “You hate soy milk. Drink up, grumpy-guts. You’ll feel better…”

You huffed, took the cup off the counter, slapped the cash down just hard enough to make him chuckle and twitch another smile - damn the bastard looked pleased with himself and double-damn, if he didn’t look extra-specially good wearing that expression - and he announced to his colleague that he was going on break.

He joined you outside, tugging out one of the heavy, metal chairs for you without a word before taking a seat on the other side of the table.

Lowe closed his eyes, tipping his head back a little to feel the chilly late-spring breeze on his face. He looked good as he relaxed like that, with his long, thick, nut-brown hair tied back off his face with a few fluffy bits escaping at the front, and his big arms folded across his chest and resting on the slight paunch he had at the waist. Something about the thick, almost russet-brown scruff on his jaw made you want to touch it. Instead, you sipped your drink and sighed.

“Good?” he asked without moving or opening his eyes.

“You know it is, you cocky little shit,” you laughed. Banter with him was always so easy, and you gave as good as you got. “Thanks, by the way. Wouldn’t want you to think I’m a complete brat…”

He snorted and cracked an eye to look at you. The sun caught in his golden-brown iris and glinted softly like polished amber, and it honestly stole your breath for a moment. “How’s the course going?” he asked instead of teasing you any more. “You were pretty stressed about that assignment last time we talked.”

You rolled your eyes and puffed the air out of your chest, swiftly following it with some inarticulate grunt of despair. “It would be going a lot better if my roommate wasn’t also being such an inconsiderate asshole,” you snarled. “Seriously, I don’t think I can take the smell of weed or the late nights any more.”

He frowned. “Can’t you talk to someone about it?”

“Have done. Not sure I’ll have a roommate for much longer though… Missing classes and being constantly stoned must equal tanking grades, right?”

Lowe nodded but didn’t say anything for a while, watching as a gnoll and her girlfriend strolled past, hand in hand. The gnoll nuzzled her nose against the human’s ear and elicited a squawk that made her giggle in return. Eventually he said, “You free this weekend?”

Cocking your head to one side, you shrugged. “Hand-in is on Friday afternoon, so… yeah? I mean, I had just planned to sleep all day… why?”

He looked uncharacteristically apprehensive and chewed on the inside of his cheek before answering. “I was going to head up into the woods for the weekend. Camping. Wondered if you wanted to come too?”

“Camping?”

“Yeah…” he said, looking like he was regretting mentioning it now. “But if you don’t want to, it’s fine. I mean… you’ve earned your rest, and camping under the stars isn’t for everyone. Don’t feel like you have -”

“Shut up for a second, will you?” you laughed, and he drew up short and blinked, staring at you before laughing fondly. “I’ve actually never been camping. I’d love to go, as long as you don’t make me go for a ten mile hike as well…”

“Would I treat you like that?” he crooned and you rolled your eyes again and muttered something which you didn’t think he’d catch. Somehow, however, he did, and he barked a loud laugh, startling a cervitaur walking past with his grocery shopping in each hand. As Lowe turned to look at the cervitaur he’d surprised, you watched his eyes flare gold, almost unnaturally so. Perhaps it was just a trick of the sunlight at this angle. When he looked back at you, you missed what he said, staring at his eyes, which were now back to their normal, warm brown.

He murmured your name, sounding a little concerned. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean it. You’re not a brat… not really…”

“Shut up,” you retorted, your tone carrying no venom. “And you know full well know I can be.”

That Thursday afternoon, your roommate moved out, finally expelled for drug use and selling to other students, and you fumigated the room as best you could, relieved at last. The second after you’d finished deep-cleaning everything, you texted Lowe and said, ‘So… I’m down a roommate now.’

‘You need me to help hide the body?’ he sent back immediately and you burst out laughing.

‘I love you, but no. It was expulsion rather than murder. I was kind of hoping you might want to move in instead?’ you sent, your heart in your mouth. He’d mentioned he was looking for a place closer to campus, and this could be perfect for him. If he was willing to have you as his roommate, of course.

‘Definitely interested. Can I think about it and let you know this weekend?’

That wasn’t a complete rebuttal, you figured. ‘Of course.’

‘Cheers. I’ll pick you up at ten on Saturday.’

True to his word, Lowe didn’t take you on a ten mile route march. He drove you up to the start of a wide, easy looking trail that was apparently only three miles up to the campsite, along a winding, inviting, grassy path. Despite looking maybe a little towards the less fit end of the scale, Lowe was four strides ahead of you in a matter of seconds. Realising this, he slowed, and you nudged him with your elbow.

“Thanks,” you said and he gave you one of his soft, secret smiles that you didn’t see very often.

He wasn’t particularly talkative as you made your way up the path, but the silence between you was easy, relaxing even.

“You’re such a cliche, you know that?” you laughed a little while later as you paused on a rock for a drink and to adjust the laces of your shoe.

Lowe scowled. “How?”

You stared pointedly at the penknife in his hand and the stick he’d picked up and had idly begun to whittle into a howling wolf in his big, strong hands, almost as if he’d not even realised he was doing it. Again, he surprised you by just shrugging a shoulder and turning back to it while you enjoyed the scene. He seemed a bit distracted somehow. When you moved on, he stashed it in his pocket.

Lowe carried literally everything, stowing your water bottle for the way up in the side pocket of his backpack, and even a two-person tent, food supplies for that evening and breakfast, and more water than you probably drank over the course of three days, and yet he still managed to arrive at the campsite as if he’d just strolled the length of one city block.

He impressed you again by lighting a fire and cooking a veritable feast for you both on a little makeshift grill, and he looked more than pleased with himself when you complimented him. “Don’t let it go to your big fat head,” you snickered and he growled playfully at you.

Quite literally growled.

The moment he’d done it, he went still, eyes wide, and even looked a little sick. “Shit,” he hissed.

“What?”

“I…” then his huge shoulders slumped despondently and he let out a long breath. “I guess now’s as good a time as any to tell you. I mean, I’ve been meaning to tell you for… well, since we kind of became friends, really. But it never seemed… convenient…”

“Convenient to tell me what?”

He shuffled a bit and poked at the embers of the fire. Your stomach felt uneasy, and it had nothing to do with the inordinate amount of amazing food you’d just finished. “I…” he began, and then whispered, “Fuck it.” He looked you in the eye and said, “I’m not human. I’m a werewolf.”

You blinked. It didn’t totally surprise you, if you were honest. “Well, that… certainly makes one or two things add up…”

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

He turned his golden eyes away from you and poked a bit more at the smoldering, grey wood, making it crumble to fragile ashes. He did look a bit easier now though. “I figured… maybe you wouldn’t… that if you knew that I’m not human, you might not want me as your roommate anymore… It was stupid though, I know.”

“Lowe,” you said, more gently this time, reaching for his bare forearm where he’d cuffed his tartan sleeve up to his elbow. His skin was warm and his muscles tensed, hard as the earth beneath you as he waited for whatever you were going to say next. “You’ve become probably my best friend… There’s no one I’d rather be roommates with than you. Besides, who else is going to tolerate your Soulsborne marathons and hipster lumberjack wardrobe?”

A long, low growl emanated from him but it dissolved into laughter when he saw your expression and he shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so chicken about you knowing…”

“I can’t believe you looked like you pissed yourself a minute ago!”

His eyes flashed openly gold now and he huffed, “I did not…”

“You totally did. Anyway, I’m glad you told me. But you know that means I’m going to want to know all the details.”

“I think I’ll save that for another day,” he said as he reached for the s’mores beside him.

‘Another’ day turned out to be a week after you’d helped him move all his boxes into your room. He was lying on his back on his bed, his arms folded up behind his head, one knee bent, the other leg stretched out, foot dangling off the end of the mattress. You glanced across the room at him from where you had your laptop on your knees and your headphones on, working on the last tweaks of the next assignment due. He looked tense, even though he wasn’t really doing anything in particular.

Removing your headphones, you murmured, “Lowe? Everything alright?”

“Mmm,” he half growled. A moment later he heaved out a huge sigh and said, “No. Full moon’s tomorrow night. I always get kind of… cranky around now.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

Whatever you’d thought he’d say, you hadn’t expected the long, low moan that escaped him. It was not an innocent noise. Breathing through his mouth in soft, quiet pants, he didn’t look at you, but you sensed that his eyes were glowing.

“Lowe?”

“No,” he said. “Not unless you want to take whatever this is between us somewhere else…”

You bit your lip. “You mean…?”

“It would probably take the edge off if we slept together, yes,” he said bluntly. “But if you don’t want that, then I’m hardly going to push…”

“I like it when you’re pushy,” you countered, setting your laptop aside and staring him in the eye.

His pupils blew wide and he raised his nose. “Fuck,” he cursed. “Oh… fuck, you’re beautiful.”

With a smile, you crossed the room to him as he sat up, watching your every move with unwavering, lupine focus. “Let me help you out, big guy,” you crooned playfully and he twitched his lip in a possessive snarl, eyes golden and locked on the curve of your neck.

“Last chance,” he said. “I don’t want you regretting crossing this line with me.”

“You’ve got super-human senses, Lowe,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt. His gaze darted instantly to the movement, transfixed by the glimpse of skin beneath your top. “You must know how I feel about you by now…”

“Yes, but lusting after someone and doing something about it is different when they’re your friend… I don’t want you to feel like I’m putting pressure on you…”

In answer, you reached out and trailed your fingertips up his neck, scratching him a little bit and making him growl again, and as you finished with a single finger drawing a line up his throat and under his chin, he shivered, as if barely holding himself back. “Why don’t you put just the right amount pressure on me… here?” you said, licking your lips as you climbed into his lap, straddling his thick thighs and running your palms over the softness of his stomach.

His jaw was soft, mouth open as he panted openly, and beneath you as you ground your hips to emphasise your question, you felt his hard cock.

A heartbeat later, he’d clamped his hands under your thighs and stood up. Lowe dropped you onto the bed with the perfect mix of recklessness and carefulness and lunged for you. He peppered and mouthed kisses down your neck, tugging at your skin with his canines, biting at your earlobe, his short beard burning and scratching your skin deliciously, and all the while he ground his cock against your thigh through his jeans.

It clearly wasn’t nearly enough, and it wasn’t long before you were both naked on his bed, and he had his mouth on you, his hands spreading your legs wide as he used the strength in his arms that his softer body belied. “Don’t come yet,” he rasped between strokes of his tongue. “Not til I say…”

“Oh,” you gasped, fighting the rising wave of heat that swept up your body, tingling under your skin, at that command. You tried, you really did, but in a mere few strokes of his tongue, you came with a cry against the heat of his mouth, bucking while he held you down and pulled you against his mouth to press his tongue tight against your throbbing clit.

When he pulled back, looking extremely smug about himself and his talents, you saw that his canines had lengthened and his features had become a little less… human.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he said, clearly still enjoying the taste of you on his lips.

“Will you hurry up and fuck me?” you pouted, and he snarled.

“Such a brat,” he laughed, but he didn’t waste any time either.

—

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

For all early releases, character art and bios, upcoming story info, and much, much more, join me over on Patreon!

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__

| Masterlist | Patreon | Ko-fi | Writing Commissions |

[olivieblake]

hi olivie i come to you hoping you can help me find clarity on an issue that has confused me for years. are woman supposed to remove the hair on their arms too? i mean i know we can do whatever we want with our body hair of course but are we expected to remove arm hair the way we do leg hair? i never have (ok twice) cause it’s not like super visible but occasionally i look at my arms and wonder if it’s weird. i’m just curious what other woman are doing (i don’t know many to ask)

you know, I was shaving my legs one time and thinking about my body (as one does) and I realized I started shaving my underarms at like... 11? 12? then started shaving my legs around 14? then I started getting bikini waxes at 18 (my suitemate made fun of me for “my bush”) and then full brazilians by 22? eventually I started also waxing the thin line of hair on my stomach since I was coming in to get everything else ripped out of me, so why not that? and this is just so much work, anon. it’s ridiculous. what man has to do this much grooming? I always think about how dumb it is when women are like ‘oooh dad bod’ when like.......... are you joking? this is just my hair removal process! I haven’t even gotten to my exercise regimen or my diet! if I’m putting this much goddamn work in, I deserve a fucking six pack! anyway

no, you do not have to remove your arm hair. if you find it distracting, that might be an internalized race/ethnicity thing—white women typically have light colored hair on their arms, eastern asian women have less/finer hair. so while I can’t guess what your skin/hair is like, the kind we see populating the magazines may not show as much as yours does. but you’re allowed to have hair because you’re a goddamn human woman! WE WORK HARD ENOUGH AS IT IS

anyway as you can see I’m all worked up but on a serious note, I spent two years in a sorority house and I currently live in L.A. where women get botox at 30 and indiscriminately laser off anything unsightly and still, I’ve never known anyone who removes their arm hair. as for me personally, at this point I would honestly

rather die

than have to worry about any more body hair

so anyway I hope that helps!

[sindrafalcone]

Insecurities and Football Teams

Fandom: BIGBANG/ Choi Seung Hyun x Reader

Warnings: Body image issues/body dysmorphia, implied sex (no actual smut)

Author’s Note: You could technically read this without reading the Nannyverse first, but it is set in that world. Also, I’m using the term ‘football’ here as in the international word for soccer, not American football.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. This story contains fictional representations of real people. None of the events are true. This is from an American standpoint, so some of the situations may not happen the same way they might in Korea. I make no money from the writing of this fictional work.

Masterlist

People assumed Seung Hyun was fit. Given how active he appeared to be with fans, doing CF's with athletic wear sponsors, it seemed only normal that people would presume so. Plus, he was usually jumping from recording to dance practice, jet setting all over the world for his art and his acting... how could someone not have a trim figure when they were moving around all the time?

He also wore slim fitting clothes every day he was out of the house, making sure to let paparazzi capture all his flattering angles, so that everyone saw how trim and lean he seemed.

Seung Hyun let the world assume he was still a young, buff idol like he was in his 20's. It was just as good for his ego as much as his brand.

Times had changed though. Seung Hyun was a dad.

He loved his life, but keeping the physique he used to have felt impossible when balancing a music career, the twins, and his marriage... not to mention his passion for art. He felt stressed. And that meant, more often than not, he sought comfort from your amazing cooking and the warmth of your shared bed.

One day, when his schedule was miraculously free, he decided to stay home and sleep. And, after what seemed like the best nap of his life, Seung Hyun felt like a shower was in order. As he began to strip off his clothes, he caught sight of himself in the mirror and stared blankly at the reflection before him. Being so busy, it felt like the first time in a long time he'd actually noticed what he looked like naked.

Seung Hyun glared at himself in the full length mirror, shrewdly assessing what he saw. He took in his body shape and sighed in defeat. He had tried his best to block out the weight gain and honestly it wasn't horrible, but you could notice a bit... especially so with no clothes on to hide away his imperfections.  

He'd been avoiding it for ages, not wanting to admit that the classic "dad bod" had caught up with him, but his fears were confirmed just by looking at it. His eyes focused in on the soft pooch that seemed to taunt him, and he grunted grumpily.

Every image of himself out there for the public was sharp, slim, and desirable. Day after day Seung Hyun presented the ideal version of himself, who he was when he first started, and that's all anyone (except you and his band mates) ever saw. Every day he squeezed into a button down shirt & slim, body hugging pants. He held himself up straight and tall so that was the image that cemented itself forever in the minds of the public. He couldn't lose that image... if he did, it could destroy him. In his business, image was everything.

Standing in front of the mirror, he turned this way and that, trying to find some optical illusion that would make the imperfections go away, but all he found was harsh reality. He poked gently at the slight roll of his stomach, watching his fingertip disappear as the skin folded around it. Seung Hyun hated what he saw. He felt weak and a mockery of the reputation he'd worked tirelessly to build...he saw someone unworthy of respect.

And love.

Seung Hyun's struggles with his body weren't anything new, but the deep roots of insecurities he'd worked very hard to ignore were no longer mere shadows in his mind, but fully fledged demons. He was soft & squishy, and he hated it. And if he hated it, then...

Seung Hyun cursed softly under his breath.

He wasn't buff, bold T.O.P with a body women swooned over. He was chubby dad bod T.O.P, trying to make his marriage work, take care of his kids and be an international superstar... all at the same time.  

Did you even see him as attractive anymore?

All the negative thoughts swirled around his head as he carried on intensely starring at himself.  He didn't even notice his wife walking in the bedroom.

“Hello handsome.” you smirked against your husbands neck as you kissed him right at his pulse point.

You wrapped your arms around his middle and propped your chin on his shoulder, locking eyes with Seung Hyun in the mirror.

He leaned backwards into your comforting embrace and sighed fondly, he still got a butterfly feeling in his stomach every time he felt your hands on his skin.

7 years of marriage and still going strong.

“What are you doing?” you asked as you took in your husbands figure in the reflection of the mirror. You unconsciously licked your lips & felt an all too familiar heat curl tight in your belly.

“Nothing.” Seung Hyun lied, quickly trying to hide what he'd been up to.

“I know you all too well, yeobo. You can’t lie to me... we promised to talk about everything remember? No secrets.” you reminded him with a soft smile.

Seung Hyun huffed out a small laugh, it faded away with a sudden jolt of nerves “ I... do you...” he stammered embarrassingly.

“You can tell me anything. I won’t laugh. Promise...” you tried your best to encourage him, softly kissing him on the neck again.

Seung Hyun sighed heavily and blew out a long breath. “Do you still find me attractive?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“Do you still find me attractive?” he repeated nervously.

“Why are you even asking me that?” you were confused and worried as to why he would suddenly ask you something so utterly ridiculous. You rubbed your hands across your husbands stomach, up and down, trying to soothe him.

Seung Hyun looked down and saw his small belly under your hands, he swallowed past the lump in his throat. “I’ve got a dad bod...” he admitted shamefully. “I can't imagine that you actually find that attractive.”

You shot him a smirk in the mirror while wordlessly giving him an arch of your brow. 'Oh... if he only knew what was going through my mind right now...' you thought to yourself. As soon as he saw your face in the reflection, Seung Hyun closed in on himself. “You don’t have to laugh at me.” he snapped quietly, halfheartedly trying to get out of your hold.

“I’m not laughing at you, idiot.” you chided him, turning him around so he would look at you. “I love many things about you, husband of mine. The body is just a bonus.” you admitted with a grin.

“You... you still...?” he stammered, unable to complete the sentence.

You pushed Seung Hyun gently towards the bed with slow steps. You hated to see the naked vulnerability in your husbands eyes.

“Oh, absolutely. It shows that you're comfortable, happy and well loved.” you answered truthfully.

“But I don’t look how I used to look.” he pouted. “You know... back when you first got here.”

“You look sexier now.” you told him honestly, leaning closer. “I found you sexy back then, even though you were entirely too skinny. And now I take pride in how you look well cared for.” you whispered into your husbands ear.

“Yeah?” he whispered back, his gentle hands beginning to play with the hair at the nape of your neck.

“Besides...you didn’t seem to mind how my body changed after having the twins.”

His chuckle was lighthearted. “Hardly. I wanted to put my hands on you as much as ever, more probably.”

Your eyebrows shot up in slight surprise at that, but you just kept backing him up to the bed until the two of you fell onto it in a tumble of limbs and a couple of giggles.

“How about... you. let. me. show. you. just. how. sexy. I. think. you. are.” you spoke each word after planting kisses in very strategic places on Seunghyun's body.

Very much later, you lay next to each other exhausted, panting as you smiled when your eyes made contact. You pulled yourself up and leaned on your elbow, kissing Seung Hyun on the lips as you moved damp, dark hair off his forehead, threading your fingers through the sweaty mess.

“That is how sexy I think you still are.” you smirked.

Seung Hyun laughed weakly, intertwining his fingers together with yours and kissing your knuckles gently. “Well... good.”

“I honestly love how you look Seung Hyun. I don’t want you to go back to the way you were.” you admitted seriously.

“As long as you still love me, I won’t change.” he told you.

You laid there in silence for while... both content, still covered in sweat & sticky but neither of you were bothered. Then Seung Hyun looked at you again, his expression suddenly serious.

“I want more kids.”

A wide smile spread across your face. It was something that you'd discussed before, but he hadn't brought it up in a long time. “What... right now?”

“I want more children with you __________-ah, a whole football team of them.”

“I.... I don't think we need to go quite that far.” you giggled.

“I want Seung Min and Sung Ja to have more siblings. I want the house to be full of noise again, it’s been too quiet since they're in preschool now.” he frowned adorably.

“I've been thinking about that lately... I hate how quiet it’s become.” you agreed sadly.

“Should we have more then?” Seung Hyun asked again, a crooked grin splayed on his handsome, sweaty face.

“Yes, of course I will have more kids with you! Just...not a whole football teams worth.” you grinned as he leaned forward, gathering you up into a tight hug.

“Lets get to baby making then, wife.” he joked seductively, laying you back and trailing kisses all the way down your body until neither of you were laughing anymore.

[johnnysnostril]

The Way Things Used To Be

chapter two

“i never asked for this.”

river’s pov

just as i was about to knock on the door, it swung open.

in front of me stood a tall young man. his skin was slightly milky, with a hint of spice. but, more milky than spice- if that makes sense.

his hair was a little wavy and wet. like he had just got out the shower.

we stared at each other for a minute before he turned to walk away, leaving the front door open for me.

“she’s here.” he yelled out.

i sighed and rolled my eyes.

as i rolled my suitcases into the front room, i stood in front of the staircase with my arms folded across my chest.

“river, hello there. i’m glad you finally decided to join us.” Mr. Jung said as he approached me.

his smile was warm and genuine. 

i almost thought that i might actually like this man.

“this is my wonderful son, jaehyun.” he said motioning towards the boy who was now in the living room.

his feet were tossed on the coffee table, hands behind his head- as he watched a basketball game on the tv.

“it’s jae, not jaehyun.” he said annoyed.

“well why dont you come over and introduce yourself properly, son.” Mr. Jung slid his hands in his pockets.

for some reason, i expected Mr. Jung to be dressed in a suit, like all the time.

suit for breakfast, suit for a family bbq, suit for pajamas. all that.

instead, his black shirt clung to his bod-  arms almost popping out of the short sleeves. 

mom always liked men with nice arms. dad had nice arms too.

his bright red and green Gucci sweatpants were right at his hips and his slippers were just barely on his feet. his heels hung from the back as he turned around and walked over to the couch.

“today would be nice.” he said firmly.

jae removed his body from the couch, running his fingers through his hair.

“hello, new step sister.” he said in a dramatic tone.

geez, and i thought i was an asshole. 

Mr. Jung slapped him in the back of the head.

“that’s no way to speak to a lady. try again.”

Mr. Jung stood at jae’s side as he waited.

“hi, river. i’m jae.” he mumbled, rubbing his head.

i tried to keep myself from laughing.

i might actually really end up like Mr. Jung.

“show her to her room and take her bags. do not mess up that carpet either.” he said firmly. “we just had to fix it because of you.”

slipping my jacket sleeves over my hands, i watched as jae grabbed both my bags- picking them up with no problem and carrying them to my room.

as he kicked open the door, he gently set my bags down.

“ta-da.” he said in a low tone. “welcome home.”

entering the bedroom, i looked around. this was way too nice for me.

“i hope this is to your liking.” Mr. Jung said appearing in the hallway.

jae posted himself on the wall, folding his arms.

“your mother did mention your obsession with the color pink. i hope you dont mind that we got together and ordered you a few things for the room. they should be here in the next week or so. please, feel free to remove anything that is not to your liking. my feelings won’t be hurt.” he laughed.

as jae’s phone began to ring, he quickly exited the bedroom.

“river?” Mr. Jung called out for me.

i looked up at him as i sat on the edge of the bed.

“this your home too, now. you are welcome to any and everything here. please know that.” he said smiling.

i smiled weakly at him and nodded.

“i’m also hoping that you and your mother can discuss a few things before bed?” he said turning around and exiting the room. “i wouldn't want you to go to bed upset with each other.”

Mr. Jung swiftly grabbed the doorknob, closing the door behind him as he left.

jaehyun’s pov

tossing myself on my bed, i placed my hand on my stomach.

“dude, do you know how insanely gross that is?” i laughed.

“you guys aren’t even relaaaated.” my friend johnny whined through the phone.

johnny and i had been close ever since our freshman year. he lived right down the street and our dads were the best of friends. 

“you’ve lost your mind.” i said rolling my eyes.

“i bet shes super hot though.” he sighed. “when can i meet her?”

“bro. i haven’t even said two words to her and you’re talking about meeting her? i don’t even know if she’s capable of speaking.” i chuckled.

“she honestly hasn’t even said a word to my dad.”

“i can work my magic on her. i’m on my way.”

“johnny, no.” i said firmly. “what makes you think i even want you near my new step sister, huh?”

johnny was smirking. i could tell.

“ouuu, already being a protective big brother. i see.”

i rolled my eyes at his statement.

“it’s not like that man. i don’t even know the girl. besides, you know how my dad is. you don’t exactly have the best rep with women either. my dad won’t even let you close to her.” i replied. “she’s the daughter he never got to have.”

river’s pov

i glanced over at the clock. 

2:38am

i couldn't sleep. not in this new bed. not in this new house. not with this new step brother and step dad.

lifting myself off the bed, i walked over to the window in front of me. 

right outside was the house of the girl that smiled at me, i think?

her and that other girl were probably bestfriends. jae probably knows those two girls.

finally taking off my jacket, i folded it up and tossed it on the couch that was in front of the bed. i hadn’t unpacked, just in case my mom would finally change her mind about staying here. i was hoping she would come into this room and tell me this was all a joke and that we were going back home. but, she hadn’t and i fell asleep waiting for it to happen.

grabbing my phone, i quietly walked out the bedroom. 

the house was quiet, a little too quiet for my liking actually.

as i reached the bottom of the stairs, i looked around. i didn’t really know where anything was, so i decided that i would give myself a little tour.

walking into the living room, i noticed a HUGE fish tank.

i immediately smiled and slowly walked over to it. 

clearly Mr. Jung had tons of money, but i wasn’t sure what he did. and i actually didn't care, to be honest.

i placed my free hand on the tank and watched as the fish swam around.

“i bet you guys have it easy huh?” i whispered. “you guys don’t have to leave your tank, ever.”

watching them almost made me want to cry. they were so carefree and i wanted to be like that so badly.

pulling myself away from the tank, i continued to explore the house.

finding my way towards the backdoor, i pulled back the curtains.

Mr. Jung had a huge pool, with a lounge area in front of it.

“well damn.” i  mumbled.

placing my hand on the door handle, i noticed it was already unlocked.

“no security system? we don’t lock doors before we go to bed?” i whispered. “must be a rich people thing.” i laughed to myself.

stepping outside, the air felt cool against my skin. it felt nice to be out here, early in the morning.

i took a deep breath, trying to clear my mind as i closed my eyes.

“i think i might like it better out here, than in there.” i said out loud. 

“yeah, i would agree.” i heard a voice say, with a slight laugh. 

jumping a little, i opened my eyes.

sitting in the corner with a cigarette in between his fingers, was jae. 

his hood was tossed on his head as he slouched over a little bit in the chair.

“so, you do speak?” he asked looking up at me.

i kept quiet.

“or maybe i’m just hearing things.” he laughed. “wanna hit?” jae placed the cigarette in his mouth, inhaling slowly then holding out the small white cylinder in my direction.

i lifted my brows.

“does your dad know that you smoke?” i questioned, folding my arms.

“does your mom know that you drink?” he fired back.

i instantly got defensive. 

“what are you talking about? i don’t drink. i’m 18.” 

jae chuckled as he stood to his feet, taking another hit.

“i’ve done my research on you. you might’ve not known about me, but i knew of you.” he said handing me the cigarette. “and, i know that you occasionally smoke.” he smiled.

“what- so, you stalked me?” i said snatching the cigarette from him and taking a hit.

i made my way over to the chair he was sitting in and crossed my legs. he stood in front of me with his hands in his pockets.

“just wanted to know who was going to be sleeping next door to me.” he stated as he tilted his head. “you could’ve been a serial killer for all i knew. the internet tells you everything you need to know about someone”

“yeah, if i was a serial killer- you’d be dead in a bathtub right now.” i said looking off to the side.

“i guess i lucked out then, huh?”

i was quiet.

“you know, i get why you’re so angry, river.” jae picked up a few small rocks and chucked them in the pool one by one.

“oh yeah? how so?” i questioned.

“for awhile, i thought your mom was trying to replace mine.” he admitted. “my dad and i still bump heads about that. but, once you get over the fact that they’re going to do what they want, and theres nothing we can do about it, you feel better.” he shrugged.

furrowing my brows, i stood to my feet and handed him back the cigarette.

“what makes you so sure that we can’t do anything about it?” i asked him.

his eyes met mine as he took his final hit.

“you trynna start some shit?” he asked holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment. 

as he blew the smoke in my face, i turned my head to the side and rolled my eyes.

“you don’t want to be in this situation anymore than i do, clearly.”

“go on.” he said intrigued.

“i think we could be amicable and put a plan together to get what we want.”

wagging his finger, he squinted his eyes. “you might be onto something, baby sis.”

i gagged at his comment.

“do not call me that.”

as he put out the cigarette against the popcorn wall, he ruffled his fingers through my hair.

“lets meet tomorrow morning. we’ll talk details then.” jae said as he began walking towards the door.

he slightly turned back and smiled. “you comin?”

[whatevenismyaestheticidk]

Things I’ve heard high schoolers say pt 3

Person: it’s to early for me to be alive right now

Teacher: who invented math? Student: Lincoln.

Teacher: You feel as if you get low marks on this 5 paragraph essay you’ll end up poor and homeless and addicted to drugs. Student 1: Yes. Student 2: That’s exactly how it works. Student 3: I mean… you’re not wrong.

Student: It’s called panic and I do it well. I do it very well.

Student 1: I need to get glasses. Student 2: I need to get a will to live.

Student: Physics eats brains for lunch and sucks ass for dinner.

Student: Fuck you Perry the platypus!!

Student: he’s an Asian white supremisist. How does that even happen.

Teacher: After treating him like dirt for 7 years what is he to me? Student 1: Friends? Student 2: Lovers?

Teachers: We can’t have poor people running the place, that’s stupid.

Teachers: It was illegal to be alone because when you are alone you commit a sin.

Student: They play with your intestines? Like jumprope???

Student 1: you make me want to kill myself Student 2: Bitch please! I’ve been making myself want to kill myself for years.

Teacher: If you’re in my class don’t be acting the fool

Student: that’s it! You’ve lost your titty privileges

Student: I have the bladder of an octopus please let me go to the bathroom

Teacher: America broke up with Britain through text and by telling all of their friends but not actually telling Britain.

Student: my peripheral vision up is about as good as a fucking snail’s.

Student: I am allergic to myself.

Student: she brought my coconut juice. I’m going to cry.

Student: my name is Bitch.

Student: my elevator is literally a vsco girl

Student 1: what do you think? Student 2: I think I’m a fucking slut.

Student 1: I look like a lightbulb Student 2: A cute lightbulb. 10/10 would screw you (in)

Teacher: No one likes Axe, but its your friend.

Student: I am a flaming homosexual and that is why I want to dye my hair pink in honor of the women that I love so much

Student: oh my god it’s Michael fucking Jackson! *screams*

Student: Im 16 but not even very much 16.

Teacher: Theres a reason my cousin Neil trades three shifts of paramedic work so he doesn’t have to work on the night of the full moon.

Student: I know it sounds scary running from the police but it’s actually just leisurely walking away from them.

Student: I was washing my hands after lunch and this guy just started bleeding out next to me.

Student: I’m just saying, I would wear a full out prom dress to school and no one could stop me.

Student: I have the strength of a roasted peanut.

Student 1: Avacodo’s are thicc though. If there was a sexiest food event then avocado would win hands down. Student 2: what about peaches Student1: I would 100% fuck an avocado.

Student: chicken nuggets re the dad bod of the food world.

Student: in conclusion: gay.

Student: Hey Mr (Teacher) can you please elaborate on your outfit choice today?

Teacher: Dueling? You know the 10 paces fire? The thing that Hamilton is known for but he was a lot better at?

Teacher: Dreams are kinda wack Student: But this is another level of wack.

Student 1: Im just saying you could totally suck a dick by mistake. Student 2: How? Student 1: Like if you’re watching a movie and he’s holding a soda bottle between his legs and you want a sip but it’s dark you could totally accidentally suck a dick.

Student 1: hurry the fuck up Student 2: that is not how you treat people, you need to have some respect. You say PLEASE hurry the fuck up.

Student: You know, Stockholm syndromes. Like when someone is kidnapped and then catches feelings for their master, daddy kinks, that kinda shit.

Student: IF I were to eat Donalt Trump’s ass it would be so white I’d get retinal cancer just from looking at it.

Student: You were texting her which made us loose the quizlet live game! She is a whore!

Teacher: you’re a dirty old man, you read the script

Student: you’re my hwb. Homies with benefits.

Student 1: I’m a shell 2: I’m a crab. 3: what do crabs do to shells 2: I’m going to go live and eat inside you then eventually leave you for another

Student: Ayyyy!! We’re getting mono!!

Student: Stop catching feelings you dumb emotionally suicidal bitch!!!!

Teacher: *Student’s name* you need to find friends who love you.

Student: Is that a kneecap? *fake cough* Slut. *fake cough*

Teacher: Yah Buccanan was our first gay president. Student: But he was a Democrat! Teacher:… you DO know that people can be gay and a democrat.

Student: This whole book was just a giant KFC commercial.

Student: he other day I tried to zoom in on a book.

Student: every time I head an Indian person talk it’s like they’re raping me but in a good way.

Student: You canned corn of a human.

Student: you look like a broken piano

Student: There’s no room for Jesus! I don’t want to see him!

Student 1: Tiger sharks are the goats of the ocean. Student 2: Wrong. I’m the goat of the ocean.

Student: Florida is the Bermuda Triangle of stupid shit.

Student: Jesus has a plan for me, and I don’t think it’s in his textbook of an agenda.

Student: did you talk to her? Because I’m pretty sure blowing up a school is frowned upon.

Student: and that’s on period no tampon.

Student 1: what would your stripper name be? Student 2: Ruby. Teacher who over heard: Excuse me. Teacher here, stripper conversation over there. Please move the inappropriate conversation somewhere where I can’t hear it. Vanilla Pudding. (the thing about this one, was she was telling us that in the past, her stripper name was Vanilla Pudding)

Student: (Different student’s name), if I told you that I was possessed last night would you believe me?

Student: (Teacher) I was possessed last night, is there, like, biology to support that?

Student: Could I theoretically live forever if I drank infinite 5 hour energies.

Teacher: I have more glue sticks I just don’t put them out because the freshman eat them.

Student: drinking chocolate milk isn’t good for you it just like tragic.

Student: who do people even get stds, I can’t even get dms

Student: Tell me you’re kidding. Tell me you did not find my house by looking at snap maps. YOU HAVE MY ADDRESS!!!

Student: Hey you lived in Africa right? Does that mean you can say the n word?

Student: Someone threatened to open up my chest, piss in it, and close it back up.

Student: For how good I am at catching feelings, you’d think I’d be better at sports.

Student 1: I’m a Taurus. Student 2: I thought you were gay.

Student: So if I ate a tide pod then ate a t-shirt what would happen?

Student: Buddhism is just a series of vibe checks until eventually one works.

Student: why does bugs bunny have so much cleavage??

Student: Don’t underestimate snoopy you fucking heathen.

Teacher: So what you’re saying is when the okay boomer generation dies we won’t be racist anymore?

Student: Venus is in retrograde and that’s why Im not dealing with your bullshit.

Student: What is wrong with you. No sincerely. What made you think that eating a green banana is okay.

Teacher: You know Up? In the movie there’s this dog and when he’s talking then he’ll turn and say squirrel. That’s like me. I think I have adhd.

Student: you absolute tea drinking taxes liberal.

Student 1: if you see my cat run. She’s psycho. Student 2: Can I run her over with my tires?

Student 1: I will drive us through the gates of Shaw and into the water. Student 2: I hope we blow up underwater.

Student 1: Juxpositioning my rain boots with my lingerie. Student 2: those rhyme. Wait no they don’t!

Student: when he says he has a tenor recorder, but really we all know he only has a soprano recorder.

Student 1: you’re shoelaces are untied Student 2: I know. I hope I trip on it and die. Student 3:I felt that

Student: Every time I see a 9/11 ad I always pretend to have a panic attack.

Students chanting: Eat the rich. Eat the rich. Student 2: Rich, more like Bitch.

Student 1: UWU I’m going to lock you in my gas chamber Student 2: Primes flame thrower UWU

Student: I’m not Like other girls. I die on command

Studrnt1: Turkey bitch Student 2: she just called you a turkey bitch Student 1: yes you specifically are a Turkey bitch

Student: I will eat a bitches dick. Gobble gobble motherfucker.

Student 1: he opens my snaps in 10 seconds Student 2: that’s love

Student 1: My for you page is almost exclusively gays, theatre, and Percy Jackson at this point. Student 2: Those are all the same thing basically.

Student: I would have kicked so much ass freshman year if I wasn’t depressed.

Student: Navy blue is the white kid who thinks he can say the n word of the color world. He thinks that he’s black.

Student: Your nose hairs look fragrant. Would you mind if I took a taste?

Student: Boxed water tastes like what I imagine trader joes to taste like as a water.

Student: The water from Moana would be a gentle lover.

Student: we feast tonight brother. I found this in the trash can.

Student: Okay, but I cry myself to sleep BETTER than you.

Student: Can you Venmo me some titties please?

Girl holding hands with another girl: It’s a good thing we’re dating otherwise this’d be pretty gay.

Student 1: I just wanted to know if you knew Lincoln personally. Teacher: What? Student 2: We think you’re a time traveler.

Student 1: Sweetie, you’re having a breakdown over rocks. Student 2: I really hate that class!!!

Student: I love being the joker when we play chess

Student: are you saying that you finger fuck your eurethra?

Student 1: Honestly sometimes I just go onto that lofi hip hop radio, beats to relax/study to thing and just get into a fight with someone in the comment section. It’s fantastic. Student 2: Sometimes they do give good advice though, once I asked if I should ask out this guy and they responded with “No, guys ain’t shit” and I was like “aight you right, you right” Student 3: Sometimes it gets weird though, like once I went on and everyone was talking about how sex and money have become the new gods of our time, and how someday a future generation will die without ever seeing the light of the sun. Student 1: Okay but are they wrong though?

Student: It doesn’t matter if you’re a boy or a girl or something in between or something else entirely. A bitch is a bitch, and you sir, are a bitch.

Student 1: so last night I killed and area few of your kids, I hope you don’t mind. Student 2: nah I don’t really care.

Student: what size pussy your phone got?

Student 1: I listen to songs about Greek gods and being polyamorous Student 2: I listen to songs about... smashing.

Student: Motzarella cheese is the pastel pink of the cheese world.

Student: Someone who can bench press 200 has nothing on someone that can just double fist eat Costco sized pound blocks of cheddar cheese.

Student: I will drag you down to hell and make the devil give you therapy so help me. Student: You see, we don’t conjugate words in English, much less math.

Students: well the thing about gamers is, you know they’re good with their hands.

Student: Oka first of all, we’re all on the same planet, so that’s already real small. Then, what are the chances that we were born the same species, like I could have been born a platypus. I could have been a mealworm. Then the chances that we’re in the same country then the same state then the same school like damn. Imma just vibe now.

Student 1: You’re built like a baked bean Student 2: IDK why that hurt me so much but it did.

Student: If I don’t get a hug in the next 10 minus, I’m going directly to the pentagon to tell Trump to suck my dick.