#there is something wrong with him [leans again super expensive car outside of my mansion] anyway i’m thinking abt having chazuke for dinner

[merriclo]

just remembered atsushi caught a bullet with his teeth. have mercy

[scuttling]

Mega Thread Count Sheets

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 2,395 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Possessive Hotch, Dom/sub, Daddy kink, Masturbation, Come marking, Unprotected sex, Manhandling, Rough sex, Breeding kink, Dirty talk, Established relationship, This really got away from me Summary: Aaron and his girlfriend spend the night at Rossi's after a family dinner, and some of her comments earn both discipline and reward. (+Hotch calling the reader 'pet' rights.) Link to A03 or read below! It’s Friday night, and everyone gathers at Rossi’s for a family dinner—it’s homemade gnocchi, so good she could inhale her plateful and Aaron’s too, and the wine is flowing, funny stories are being told. After dinner, she sinks against Aaron on the sofa, warm, happy, laughing at JJ’s high school antics; they aren’t drunk, but cozy and sleepy enough that when it’s time to leave, neither of them really want to drive home.

“You can stay here if you want; I’ve got plenty of space,” Rossi says, and she’s not sure, because she’s wearing a short little sundress, has been teasing Aaron pretty hard tonight, and she imagines he’s got some plans for them when they get home.

“Okay; thanks, Dave,” he says, surprising her, and he excuses himself for the restroom while Rossi goes to get everything set up. Aaron returns before Rossi, and she leans up to give him a kiss.

“He’s putting us up in a guest room in the other wing. The other wing. He’s so rich he’s got wings, what the hell.” She wraps her arms around Aaron’s midsection, hugs him close. “The absurdity of that aside, if we’re in the other wing, that means we’ll be far enough away that he can’t hear us… if we were to do something noisy, that is.” He leans down for a soft kiss; she knows he won’t give her more than that, since Rossi is still nearby.

“Are you planning to be noisy?” he whispers, and she looks down at his lips, briefly, and back up to his eyes.

“Aren’t I always?” He looks at her like he wants to devour her, and she’s totally on board with that plan, but then Rossi strides in and they both pull apart. He points them to their room, down the hall, third door on the left, and then says goodnight, heads down the opposite hallway to his bedroom.

She and Aaron walk down the hall, passing paintings and artful knick-knacks that probably cost more than her car. “He made all this money writing books?”

“He sure as hell didn’t make it at the FBI,” Aaron says with a chuckle, and she whistles.

“Damn, I need to start writing books. Maybe like a Fifty Shades type thing, about you and me.” She makes her voice breathy and low and ridiculous. “He’s my super hot superior, and I know it’s wrong, but just thinking about getting on my knees for him makes my innocent cunt quiver with anticipation.” He glances over at her with his eyebrows raised.

“I can make your cunt quiver.” She grins.

“I know you can.”

When they enter the room, it’s gorgeous, if a little extravagant, made up in gold and cream and crimson, like something in a castle and not a place just outside DC. She brushes her hand over the pillows, because they look soft, and then she pulls back the corner of the blanket, slips between the sheets, still fully dressed.

“Oh my god, these have to have a thread count of like, two million,” she says, wiggling her bare thighs back and forth against them. Aaron huffs.

“I buy us high thread count sheets.”

“But do you buy us ultra high thread count sheets?” she asks, still wiggling. “Mega high thread count? I think these are mega high thread count.” He sits down beside her, runs his hand over the sheets, frowns.

“They’re not that nice. They probably aren’t even Egyptian cotton, and you love the Egyptian cotton,” he counters. He sounds a little... off. It makes her wonder what’s on his mind.

“No, they’re probably like… Roman cotton, or Calabrian cotton. Something super Italian and decadent.” She arches her eyebrows, and he pulls back the blanket and sheet, so he’s presented with her body; he kneels around her legs, hands on her waist. Her breath picks up.

“Naughty girl. Are you trying to make daddy feel bad? Like he doesn’t fucking spoil you enough already?” He takes her wrists in one of his hands and pins them above her head, pushes up her dress over her hips with the other. He sighs deeply, closes his eyes briefly. “You’re not wearing panties, pet.”

She licks her lips. She’d actually forgotten all about that. “I took them off earlier.”

“When? Why?” he asks, eyes stern and making her squirmy. She resists against him a little, just for the fun of it, and he holds her tighter.

“Before we left home. They were wet, daddy.” He leans in, hovers over her and moves her dress up further, bares her tits. She licks her lips again.

“Oh? Why were they wet?”

“Because I love you,” she purrs, and he catches her jaw in his hand, presses a crushing kiss to her lips. She groans into it, tries to roll her hips, but his knees on either side of her don’t allow it. “Daddy.”

“No. You mean to tell me my little pet was walking around here all evening with no panties on? In that little dress?” He takes his hands off her, and she pulls her wrists down, but he grabs them up again, shoves them over her head, and barks, “stay.”

He opens his belt, his fly, takes out his cock and then covers her wrists again; he tightens his knees around her hips, she can feel them digging in, and starts stroking himself, staring down at her face.

“Naughty little thing, prancing around here with a bare pussy. Don’t you know you belong to daddy? Don’t you know this pussy belongs to daddy?” He leans in so he can rub the head between her soaked lips, and again, she wants to buck up for more, but he won’t allow it. “You’re not coming, I’m coming. I’m coming all over what’s mine. And then, when I’m ready for more, I’m going to hold you down and use you, naughty pet, and if you’re good for me up until then maybe I’ll let you get off. Understand?”

She whimpers, struggles, but ultimately nods.

“Yes, daddy.”

He jerks his cock smoothly but quickly, wants to come fast, but he pauses to take her dress off completely, and then his own clothes; he probably realized these were the only clothes they have here, and doing a morning walk of shame covered in come stains is not a great look.

As soon as they’re naked, though, he grabs her wrists again, gets his knees on either side of her so she can’t move, and strokes his cock again. He’s watching her, his eyes set and focused on her face, and she’s watching him, his mouth and his hand and his thick dick disappearing inside his fist.

“You don’t like it when I don’t let you come, do you, pet? You don’t like it when I don’t let you touch me.” She perks up a little at being addressed—sometimes when she’s being disciplined this way, he gets himself off like she’s not even there—and she pants, squirms, and shakes her head.

“No, daddy, I don’t like that. I want to touch you, and I want you to make me come.” Her chest heaves, the only part of her that can really move, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. “But I know you need to come on me first, daddy. I deserve to have to wait, because I was naughty.” Aaron grunts, and fists his cock more desperately. So fucking sexy.

“Yes, you have to wait, but you’re my good girl now. You’re behaving for me; I’ll make you come soon, after you’re covered in me.” Almost like he wills it to happen, he tenses, comes, makes sure to get some on her tits and stomach and pussy, covering her with thick ropes that have her drenched from the inside out. She moans like it’s her own orgasm, wanton and eager, and when he’s done he leans in to take her mouth in a hard, passionate kiss; he releases her wrists, and she sinks her fingers in his hair, pulls him closer, pants against his lips.

“Love you,” she says with wide open eyes, and he kisses her softly, brushes his thumb over her lips.

“Love you so much.” He lays beside her while he recovers—she’ll manage to get him hard again relatively quickly, but he does need some time in between—and gently drags one fingertip through his come, tracing abstract patterns, rubbing it over her nipples and around her belly button, up and down her aching, throbbing pussy. She wants so much more, but she’s good and patient, just the way daddy wants her to be.

After laying like that for a little bit, Aaron takes her hand and guides it to his cock, lets her wrap around him and touch him and bring him to full hardness, and she closes her eyes, hums, licks her lips. Touching him after so much time not being allowed to touch him gets her extremely aroused, her whole body sensitive, her mind hazy with pleasure. It’s the best kind of reward by far.

The slow, gentle part of their evening is abruptly over when he flips her onto her stomach, come-covered body face-down against Rossi’s pretty crimson sheets. Jesus. She moans so loudly she’s not sure Rossi can’t hear her, even from the other wing.

He gets the head of his cock inside her, covers both of her hands with his, and slams inside, repeatedly, earning whimpering, desperate moans as his speed and intensity increases.

“How do those sheets feel?” he coos in her ear, her cheek smashed into them, as he fucks hard against her ass; her body is bouncing on the bed with each rough thrust, and she whines, shivers.

“Fine, daddy, but—mmh, nothing feels better than you.” In truth, it feels amazing, but only because her belly and tits are still covered in his come and she feels like a dirty whore; only Aaron can make her delight in ruining Rossi’s expensive sheets, which is a complete asshole move by anyone’s standards, and also really gross.

“That’s right, pet. I might never have a mansion with multiple wings, but I’ll always take care of you. You don’t have to want for anything.”

“I know daddy. I don’t want for anything but you.”

“And what do you want from me now?” he asks, pounding harder and kissing her cheek softly. Things like these are what really get her off, the marriage of tenderness and roughness, the way he knows what to do to maintain the balance.

“Harder, daddy. Take me, daddy,” she pants, and he squeezes her hands and doubles down, wrecking her pussy, no doubt bruising her hips with his unyielding thighs pressed tightly against them. “Maybe…” She doesn’t continue, because it’s nothing they’ve discussed yet, but he moves his mouth to her ear and tugs on it with his teeth.

“Maybe what, pet? Daddy always wants to hear you.” She squeezes her eyes closed and whimpers, getting close. She hopes the idea doesn’t freak him out. They’ve only been dating for a year.

“Maybe try to put a baby in me, daddy. I’m on birth control tonight, but you could practice?”

Aaron loses his mind.

“Oh, you want daddy to put a baby in you? You want me to put my come deep and then fuck it deeper into you until there’s no doubt you’ll end up pregnant with my babies, pet?” His thrusts have been quick and harsh, but shallow, up until now, but he adjusts his knees to slide in deeply, fully sheathed inside her, rocking her body and making her ass shake. “You’ll take it so good, won’t you? You’ll let me breed you full of babies, one after another.”

“Fuck, yes daddy, breed me full daddy. Wanna have your babies, wanna be full of you, wanna be yours.” He lifts his right hand off of hers and puts it on the back of her neck, grips tight, and leans in to press his teeth against her shoulder, breathing harshly.

“You are mine. I’ll make sure you never forget it.” She won’t, couldn’t, never, babbles something to that effect and then comes seeing stars, howling his name, and daddy, and oh.

Aaron whispers her name, and sweet baby, and perfect little pet, and changes nothing, keeps drilling hard and deep while she whines and whimpers over being used like he’s using her.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl,” he murmurs in her ear while he fucks her into the mattress. “Good girl making pretty noises on daddy’s cock; I’m going to put a baby in you, we’ll make a baby, a perfect little baby with your nose and my eyes, pet, promise.” She moans, wrecked, her hair frizzy, sweat clinging to her temples, and he comes with a grunt, moves his hands to her ass and spreads her while he spills inside, so he can be as deep as possible.

He pistons his hips a half a dozen times after, and then grinds slowly like he’s making sure she’s covered in come. It’s incredibly hot, and feels so good, and she comes again and then sags against the bed and lets him move inside her until he’s ready to pull out. When he does, he rolls her over, takes her in his arms, and they just hold each other and whisper and breathe for so long she starts to drift to sleep.

He gets them in the shower, cleans her up, kisses her lips and cheeks and all the places his body hurt hers, and she sighs, smiles, and thanks him. He thanks her back. The next morning, they’re getting ready to leave, and she is almost out the door when she hears Aaron talking to Rossi.

“Really nice sheets in that room. What kind are they?”

“They’re great, aren’t they? Peruvian cotton—Pima.” Aaron makes a sound of understanding.

“How much did they cost?”

“Around $120, I think.” She can hear the sound of paper—money—and ducks around the corner to see Aaron with his wallet out, handing Rossi a few bills.

“Sorry.” He pats Rossi on the shoulder and walks toward her, raises his eyebrows. “Ready to go?”

She sighs, nods, and takes his hand.

When they get home, they get online and order the sheets. And pick out a crib. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @wolviesbabes

[fucknofortunato]

[Writing Prompt] My Fantasy Fantasy pt 1

Prompt: You have suddenly been inserted as one of the characters in the Lord of the Rings series. Who are you and do you change anything about how your character acted in the books or movies? Note: I really don’t like writing fanfiction anymore, so I’m taking heavy liberties with this one’s guidelines. Also, little ashamed to admit I’m honestly not that savvy with the LotR’s story despite having watched the films. Haven’t read the books yet

Vandrew Avi was feeling pretty down on his luck lately. There wasn’t an aspect of his life he currently felt great about and his 25th birthday was quickly approaching. Having just finished another shift at his soul-crushing desk job, Vandrew found himself in the usual spot in his usual seat: Breakdown Solo. A small bar/restaurant that served the locals but managed to keep a dive bar atmosphere to just the bar top area.

“White Russian please. Easy on the Vodka, heavy on the Kahlua.” A small guffaw made him turn his head, “If you’re gonna order from the bar you should be ordering actual drinks.”

Sitting two seats down from him was an man he guessed to be in his fifties or so. Had a real gruff look to him and nasty scar running from his cheek down to his neck.

“I get drunk after a few and enjoy the drink alright too. I’m not Russian to get drunk,” Vandrew replied. Another guffaw, the patron amused by the short quip. “You like bowling?” “Not really. I’m not good at it, just can’t seem to pin down the strategy.” This time the laugh kinda startled Vandrew. Oh yeah, he thought to himself. I guess that was a pun. The bartender laid out a napkin and set his drink on it. Throwing cash on the bar, he thanked her before trying the drink. A small grimace hidden by a forced smile. There’s always too much vodka. “So, what are you doing drinking out here and telling puns?” “Heh. I just kinda use puns to gauge new people’s humor. Just here trying to make the best of a long day. Well, long week really. Or life I guess.” “You sound like you need some more excitement! What do you do for work?” “I just do some simple mind-numbing computer stuff. It’s okay at times. Some of the co-workers are fun to talk to.” “Wouldn’t you like to travel though?” the old man asked with an auspicious grin.

Vandrew sat up and gave his full attention to the man now. Something was wrong here, because he would love to travel. Yet, there was just something here that seemed to imply that the old man knew exactly that.

“Yeah... But I don’t think I’m able to afford or find any jobs that let me do that,” Vandrew hesitantly replied. “How about being a private courier?” “You mean like deliveries for people they don’t want to publicly hire for?” “I mean exactly that. Deliveries for people that are willing to just pay you directly and see to it that the overworked postal people don’t bumble their goods.” “I looked at stuff like that forever ago, but I just couldn’t figure out how to get into it,” Vandrew said, looking back into his glass before taking a solemn sip. “I could use a courier tonight. In fact, I’m looking for someone to fill the position that my previous hire just emptied,” replied the man leaning forward and retrieving something from his coat. “Uh... I don’t know about that. Seems like I might be transporting illegal items or something considering I’m not allowed to look. Cause I’m not allowed to look right?” “Oh you can look, it’s not pre-packaged or anything,” the man said withdrawing a brown cloth.

The man held the item up to Vandrew and let the cloth fall from it, revealing a strange golden star-like dodecahedron. Within the center, there was a ruby etched with strange lettering and covered by connecting golden grid lines.

“You...you’d trust me with delivering that? That looks incredible expensive,” Vandrew said admiring the jewelry. It looked just a bit bigger than a baseball. “Of course. You’ll want to get paid and earn that new job. Consider tonight a test. I’ll pay you two hundred dollars now and when the client receives this item, he’ll give you four hundred more.”

Vandrew almost choked on his white russian. THAT’S LIKE TWO WEEKS WORTH OF MY PAYCHECKS!! he thought to himself with twisted delight and curiousity.

“That’s like two weeks worth of my paychecks!” he proceeded to blurt out as well. “Think about that will ya,” said the old man. “One night and you’re already good for two weeks.” “Well hot damn, man! Where do I have to take it?” he asked eagerly. The older man chuckled to himself as he stood up from his seat. Reaching back into his coat, he pulled out a business card and handed it to Vandrew. “My number is on the back if you run into any trouble. Her door is usually unlocked, so let yourself in if she’s not answering. You’re welcome to wait for her to get home, she’ll be expecting you.” “Unlocked...?” he said to himself as he looked over the card. “Sounds like someone could rob her unless she’s got an a-door-ing public.”

Vandrew looked up smiling but saw the old man must have been swift, for he was nowhere to be seen. Looking around, he instead found the ruby-star and the two hundred dollars in the seat next to him. Beaming a smile, he held up the ten twenty-dollar-bills to his face. Looking back to the bar, he placed a tip next to his drink and then went to find some food.

-

Back in his car, Vandrew plugged the address into his phone.

Hey, that’s actually not too far from here, he thought to himself. Should be about a two hour drive, tops. Gonna be pretty sleepy on the way back though...

It was already pretty late but the idea of getting to travel so much and being financial stable was already filling his head with dreams. The road seemed to drag on and on as he went along highways and back routes, avoiding the tolls and blasting his music. It was mostly strange remixes of popular songs and synths or 80′s-esque film music. It was kind of an ironic enjoyment because he wouldn’t normally listen to the actual song as much but he couldn’t help but sing along with this one. “Bout to have a party... Let’s get it started... Go ahead shake your butt...”

“Oh my got...” he muttered, letting it hang in the air. Vandrew parked his car next to a keypad staring at the big archway gate, green metal bars with some symbol in the center. Behind the gate laid the rest of the road and an old mansion, though it seemed smaller than he thought a mansion would look. Looking over the card he found the five digit code and punched it into the keypad. “I guess that’s why she leaves the door unlocked.”

Having parked his car, he approached the doorway with the ruby-star in hand, wrapped in the brown cloth. Vandrew knocked upon the door nervously and kept looking around at the grounds. It was pretty late at night and he wasn’t feeling super aware of himself. Unsure of if he knocked hard enough, he tried knocking again, pretty hard and for a little longer than he felt was normal.

“Oh wait a sec,” he said to himself as he realized this was a pretty big house. Looking around the door for a moment he found the doorbell, “Ah, there we go.”

The chimes of the doorbell could be heard faintly outside the door. About two minutes went by before he decided to stop being awkward and try opening the door. Instead, the handle only turned halfway and he heard the click of a lock holding it in place.

“Oh man! You gotta be kidding me!” he blurted aloud. Quickly his mind raced, thinking about why someone would trick him into coming out to someone’s house with some expensive looking jewelry. “Hold on hold on, don’t freak out just yet,” he tried to reassure himself. “He had the code right? Oh no, he had the code! Maybe I was just to test it?” Fumbling with his pocket he pulled out the business card. “Oh gotjam, what if I call him and it’s just a setup to let him actually rob the place or something?”

In a panic, Vandrew tried the door again and knocked as he held the door knob. Suddenly, he felt the door knob give way and the door slid ajar. Tripping over himself and hitting the door twice, he regained himself in the entrance to the home. “Yeah...okay...”

Curiosity and determination overtook his paranoid senses and he shut the door before beginning to explore. There were some really old paintings on the wall, covered with dust and some having tears. Little podiums were throughout the hall with odd busts and vases upon them. Eventually, his path came to an end at a large room with a fireplace. The fire was lit and crackling, so he assumed this must be where he was supposed to wait. The room was also strangely decorated. Aside from the big sofa chair near the fireplace and the table next to it, this room seemed like it had not been touched in some time.

An old rug was spread across the floor in a design of red and tan with little dashes of blue here and there. Really ties the room together, Vandrew thought to himself as he crossed it. A deer head was above the fireplace but there was something off about it that he couldn’t put his finger on. The antlers seemed pretty big and the branches far apart but he honestly didn’t know enough about deer to tell if this was unique. The rest of the room just didn’t appeal to him at all once he realized what was on the far wall from the sofa.

A large sign hung at the top that read “CHOOSE YOUR WEAPON“ in large golden letters. Below it were several racks of weapons upon the wall, divided into odd categories. At the top, hanging horizontally like a gun, sat a large oaken staff, seemingly made of twisted branches with a big crystal in the end grasped by the roots. Everything else was hung from the handle, with the weapon’s ‘dangerous’ end pointing towards the floor. Starting at the left there was a rack of 4 daggers, a rack of two swords, a rack of one large battle axe, a rack of a bow and 5 arrows, and lastly, a large rack containing a multitude of knives, maces, bows, and swords but all in a twisted black metal.

“This looks...familiar...” Vandrew said to himself. Speaking to himself was a habit he developed for whenever he felt out of place or unsafe. “Well, she’s got some cool weapons. That battleaxe looks pretty neat,” he said reaching for it. “But wait a sec,” cutting himself off and pulling back his hand. “That’s pretty heavy. If I did need to defend myself, I can’t let them see I’m not that strong off the bat...” His eyes scanned back over to the daggers. “Yeah that seems neat...”

Vandrew reached out with both hands for two daggers. His right hand pulled one off before the left and just before the left could grip the other, he heard the wall make a large clicking sound. Instinctually, he flinched and gripped the second dagger but it didn’t budge from the wall. His hand slid off causing him to jump a second time and rear up the dagger in a defensive way. Looking around, he saw a mirror nearby and caught a glimpse of himself. A gangly kid holding a dagger upside down like some kind of wannabe ninja. This image also made it dawn on him that he would have to get really close to stab someone with this. “Oh god,” he said, putting the dagger back out of fear from the wall and the feeling that he couldn’t really defend himself with it. The prongs holding up the blade pushed away and he heard the clicking again.

“Damn, she is protective of her stuff,” Vandrew wondered aloud, realizing that the wall somehow locked everything into place once of the items was taken. Back at the swords he reached out and grabbed the one with a gold and black hilt. The walls clicked and locked everything into place as he held the heavy blade aloft, looking at the craftsmanship. He whistled in awe, realizing this blade was the real deal. Despite it weighing his arm a bit, he practiced swinging it around a bit, trying to do some sword tricks. It devolved into the true purpose of what he was doing, which was playing with a weapon. Yet, as what is prone to happen to those who play with weapons and things they don’t understand, he ended up nicking his leg and cutting a small slashed hole into his jeans.

“Ow, damn it!” he said,bending down to clutch his wound. The sword remained aloft, gripped in his right hand. “Well, it doesn’t look too bad. Jeez, that’s a real clean cut too... I think.” Sighing and placing the blade on the table, he sat in the chair and began to wait. “Shoot,” he said aloud eyes widening. “What was I doing, I could have totally broken this lady’s stuff. That’d suck to come out here to get paid only to have to pay someone else...”

About a half hour went by before he started to slump in the chair, phone barely held in his hand. The ruby-star sat on the table as well and as he struggled to see things clearly, he almost thought he saw the cloth glowing red from within. Then his eyes finally gave up the fight to stay awake.