#I am so sleep deprived dear god

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 1 - The Prince

How the mighty do fall.

(Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn’t exactly considered classy, Stolas.)

pt 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | 1st bonus | pt. 6 | pt. 7 | pt. 8 | pt. 9 | 2nd bonus

Word count: 1,520

Warnings: I mean. depression. arranged marriage. this part doesn’t contain actual sex only mentions of it but others might idk, me taking myself way too seriously writing this, this has no dialogue but don’t give up on me im actually a pretty dialogue heavy person but this only works if this chapter has no dialogue

If you ever asked Stolas, he’d say he was never one to cause a scene.

If you asked anyone else, they’d say he’s lying.

Stolas had always been fond of a little drama and drawn to a bit of flair, akin to exaggeration and grandeur like no other. Be it in the way he speaks, acts or reacts to hell around him, be it how he expresses his emotions or his thoughts and even his feelings towards others.

Emotions, thoughts, feelings. Stolas was always full of those, ever since he was an ugly, pink, featherless little project of a bird. They have been all-consuming ever since he can remember. And he remembers.

Stolas can recall the confusion in his father’s voice whenever he cried as a kid, as if the action was strange and foreign, unfit for a demon like him.

And perhaps it was.

Stolas remembered many things, and yet he could not recall a single time he had seen his father cry- or show any sort of weakness, for the matter. Paimon was always stern and centered, and Stolas is sure the only thing close to weakness he’s ever expressed was his inability to be more than his status- to be an actual father. He doubted his father would consider that a weakness.

What was fatherhood next to being royal, anyway, right?

It was disconcerting to grow up certain that, between his father and all of his brothers, he was, without a doubt, the weakest. After all, how could he not be? He was scared, of a many things, most of the time. He felt things too deeply in his heart and he worried too much and too often about way too much. He was well aware of all of that.

But, as he grew up, Stolas decided he was fine with it, if it meant he got to genuinely feel things. Because Octavia had come to exist, and he could never in his heart find the willpower to act as cold to her as his own father did to him.

Yes, he decided he was fine with being weak, if that’s what being able to love unconditionally took. He was fine with being weak, if that’s what being loved took.

He may not have loved his father, or even liked him, for the matter. But he promised to himself he’d do anything it took for Octavia to love him.

And how it filled him with pure and utter joy to feel loved for the first time in his life.

He may not have loved Stella, either, but their union had brought him his daughter, and nothing in the entirety of the universe mattered more to him than her. And so he was grateful for their arrangement, after all, despite the bitterness of it all.

With Octavia’s teenage years came the flood, though. Stolas cried himself to sleep almost every single night for years to come as he was reminded of the fact that being grateful for what his marriage brought him was not enough to make him happy to be in the situation in which he found himself, unable to exist as he was inside of his own home without fearing the judgement of a wife who loved him just as much as he loved her - not even a tiny little bit- and unable to shield his daughter from the unhappy family he’d once feared she would have to endure.

Stella was never someone Stolas particularly liked. In fact, he quite disliked her, from the moment he laid eyes on her as his father told him they were betrothed to one another, at much too young of an age.

At first, it surely was purely the hatred for the fact that his fate was tied to her and there was nothing he could do to escape, and the sense of impending doom that came with every year that passed as he knew he grew closer to approaching the day there would be turning back, and watched the time pass as an expectator of his own life, as there was nothing he could really do but comply.

Royal life had its renounces.

When the day came for their marriage to be sealed, the moment finally materializing itself as real instead of bad news he’d try to push away and avoid dwelling into for too long, Stolas promised himself he’d try to get over those feelings and make an effort to know her better. If they would be tied to one another from this moment on, he could at least try to make it all not so miserable.

It was a task set to fail.

When Octavia was conceived, Stolas felt nothing but relief. After all, this entire situation was based purely on business, all-dependent on the birth of an heir. Which meant, in some way, they were a bit more free than before. However much that can be in the situation they found themselves in.

Relief came first, dread came second. At only 19 years old, what did Stolas know of parenting anyway? Logically, he knew this would be happening. Logically, he’d known that for almost a full decade. Logically, that should have been enough for him to be prepared.

But he felt anything but prepared. How was he, who felt lost at all times, who cried at the slightest things, who didn’t ask for all of this, supposed to be a father? What twisted parameters did he have, considering his own?

He only hoped time would ease those feelings.

Throughout the years, he learned those feelings never do leave you, and that parenthood is forever a state of worry. You never truly feel ready- there’s just not much more that you can do than try your best.

To be loved by Octavia was enough. Or… at least it should be, shouldn’t it? Was it selfish, or perhaps even inconsiderate, unfair to her that at times he found himself longing to be loved by someone whose existence wasn’t bound to him? Wishing to know if someone would ever care not because they were betrothed to him and not because they were his own blood, but simply because they liked who he was? Enjoyed his company? Felt genuine attraction towards him?

When thoughts of the sorts consumed him it was hard not to punish himself mentally for thinking such frivolous things, for having such superficial wishes. But it wasn’t hard to figure out where it all stemmed from. After all, when the only partner you have ever had in your entire life hadn’t any say in choosing you, it’s only natural to wonder what it would be like to be with someone who did choose him.

When you’ve had no say in choosing the only partner you’ve ever had in your life, in turn, it’s only ever natural, too, to wonder what it would be like with someone you would have chosen to be with. Someone who excited you, who made you feel things. Stolas didn’t even know what exactly those things were supposed to be, but spent his days longing to feel them nonetheless.

The day Blitzo, someone he hadn’t heard of in decades, was caught trying to sneak into his palace, during the most depressing party ever thrown in all seven rings, Stolas felt excitement for the first time in a long while. It’s almost like his brain had a reaction before he even processed it, like it was stuck repeating the same thing over and over and over: Friend. Friend. Friend.

Sure, Blitzo wasn’t his friend. They hadn’t been friends for, once again, literal decades. In fact, they had only ever been friends for about a day.

But Blitzo was his first ever friend. And you don’t just forget that. Stolas never would, at least.

And in that night they spent together, something in Stolas changed. That night, he felt wanted. For the first time in his life, he felt desired. For the first time in his life, sex wasn��t just business. It wasn’t just an obligation or a means to an end. For the first time in his life, sex was fun.

He knew it was supposed to be fun. He knew it was fun for most people. He had just stopped hoping it would ever be fun for him.

And, sure, he also knew what they did was wrong. But he couldn’t get himself to care as much as he probably should have, because, truth be told, Stella could pretend to have been hurt by it however much she wanted, but they both knew she never really was.

“That was the sound of a fucking divorce!”

A couple hours later, sitting on his bed in shock, he could still barely believe he had really just done what he did- what they should have done so long ago- and Stolas just started laughing to himself. The more he laughed, the harder it was to stop. He knew he just had to be like a maniac like that, but couldn’t possibly get himself to care, because, for only a split second did the thought of not being supposed to let his servants see him in that state pass through his mind, but it only made him laugh harder.

He’d just announced his divorce to the wife he’d been set to marry since birth, can’t get much more scandalous than that.

A/N: would you believe me if i said this started as an idea for what was supposed to be only a funny silly little oneshot with dick jokes and public embarrassment?

Requests for Blitzø and Blitzø x Stolas are open! I’m also SO hyperfixated on this show rn so if y’all wanna chat abt hcs or this series be my guest I’d be happy to talk and i don’t bite unless asked nicely luv y’all <3

[feral-ass-raccoon]

when i tell you the amount of pure joy i feel when i see that a mutual has responded (whether it be an IRL Moot or a fellow "Bullying Morro On The Internet + Morro Himself" crew) or otherwise interacted with me just. does not do it credit

like i get so much fuckig dopamine when i see that a moot has responded via reblog and i can Interact With Them holy shit

will we ever know anything about each other past Tumblr names and pronouns? no.

but oh my fucking god if i do not cherish each and every one of the stupid and/or bizzarely deep conversations i have with these people.

[paleode-ology]

well it’s another night of “I want to complain and talk poorly about myself but I’m restraining myself from talking to other people bc A) I know that I am experiencing Symptoms and it’s not entirely my fault even though I want to talk about it like it IS and B) I do not want to Be A Bother so I’m talking to my phone and tumblr instead”

[dsybouquet]

.. so what if u actually texted ceo! ellie ?

(read how it started here !<3)

you only left the bar after all chairs have been put up the floor was mopped cleanly and all customers have been (more or less) kicked out. your leather jacket covered the short work clothes you wore as you walk through the dark streets.

you for sure were freezing, but your home isn’t all too far. the empty streets where some what soothing. it was peaceful and quiet with only a couple of cars passing by.

when you entered your apartment, you dropped your little bag to the ground and took off your shoes. of course you had a long day ahead at uni and you knew for sure that if you don’t fall asleep right away, you will simply ignore 99% percent of your lectures. why, out of all mayors, did you choose psychology?

quietly, you dropped onto your couch and turned on the tv. with family guy playing in the background, you mindlessly scrolled though your social media accounts - despite you knowing that being sleep deprived will literally be the death of you.

all of the sudden you thoughts started to run. why did that ellie woman have such a chokehold on you? it’s not like you didn’t have plenty of people right on your doorstep. being a young barkeeper already arranged you all types of things and plenty of numbers.

but something about was different. she was so.. different.

or maybe it was just you being delusional about a woman a bit too beautiful. or maybe it was her flirty behaviour that made you nearly lose your mind.

either way she was all you thought about, and you only knew her for a couple of hours. you threw your phone aside covering you face with your hands.

“get a hold on yourself, ______.”

you told yourself. you were so delusional.

ellie was probably just a woman with too much money that went around and tried to be some what kind. but why was she being so.. gentle?

calling you a pretty girl and dear..

god you were losing your mind over her.

your eyes landed on your phone. the bill with her number on still plugged into your see-through case.

maybe you could try your luck..

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．

“are you kidding me?”

ellie exclaimed when she entered her office the next morning and found one of her managers sitting in front of her.

“jesse, what the fuck?!”

she took off her coat and put it on her hanger.

“calm down.”

jessie tried to help ellie contain her anger, but the young woman was about to snap.

she woke up late, she was still tired, spilled her coffee on her way to her car and was stuck in traffic. and now jesse is trying to tell her that one of his agents fucked up with one of her most important clients? leaked confidential data?

she was not having it.

“calm down ? oh i am calm, jesse.”

ellie pulled a cigarette out of her pockets and light it up. she knew the consequences, the visits with her lawyer. and she knew she had to kick this agent out. slowly, she blew out the smoke of her cigarette.

“action plan, now.”

jesse lifted his hands up in air, trying to defend himself.

“kick h-“

“exactly. i will remove all his accesses. i will call our lawyer and he needs to someone, and i don’t care who but i’d prefer authorities, to check all of his private devices for internal information.”

while she was talking, she unlocked her computer and got onto work. ellie exhaled the smoke of her cigarette and looked at jesse.

the man in front of her sighed. jesse was sad to let this agent go, but after all he will be heavily impacted either way.

“what are you waiting for?”

“aye. see you for a coffee later?”

though ellie was his supervisor, they still were sort of friends.

ellie just scoffed - which in her being stressed language basically meant “yeah. now piss off.” - and waved goodbye before putting herself onto it.

hours and hours passed by, phone calls with her lawyer, phone calls with the client, phone calls with authorities - she was so sick of it by now.

leaning back in her overly comfortable office chair, she turned it to the window. she may be owner of one of the most important business on the market right now, but she’ll never get over the view of her top floor office.

she sighed and took it in, watching the sun slowly set. the buzz off her phone ripped her out of her thought.

a unknown number ? texted her ? did this idiot agent now got a hold of her number and is threatening her ?

ellie was quick with unlocking her phone only to see..

‘hey ! it’s your bartender from yesterday !’

she almost couldn’t believe that you actually texted her. after all she was a complete stranger. but then again - you were a university student working in a kind of run down bar.

anyways, she still remembered your name and saved your contact - and good lord she was quick with texting you back.

and good lord you texted back and forth for long, ellie didn’t notice that the sun was down by now.

she should leave the office and probably go back to her penthouse apartment and get some sleep.

damn it, why did you have to text her that you’re still in your universities library studying for your upcoming exam.

and why did she have the urge to pick you up and take you out for dinner ? what was it about you?

usually, ellie picks easy-to-get girls. a quick one night stand with not a lot of talking, maybe giving them a lift home in her bentley - if she was being nice.

she didn’t even know why she wanted to treat you better.

before ellie knew she was sitting in her white bentley, on her way to pick you up.

and you didn’t even realise she was actually doing it until you saw her. until you saw the woman exiting her beast of a car.

your eyes got so wide when you saw her with that sleek black coat, white turtle neck and black suit pants. she looked so good.

„hello beautiful.“

ellie smilingly said before opening the car door on the passenger side door for you to enter. you hesitated for a second, being kind of overwhelmed to get picked up from university like this.

however, you greeted her back and entered her car.

„getting shy now?“

she joked, starting the engine and pulling out of the study property. her smile was wide when she looked at you.

„no. i‘m just not used to getting picked up with this kind of service.“

ellie smirked. she knew her cars and her money was impressive. after all, it is exactly what most girls are after so she stopped bothering. she had it, so why not make good use of it?

„wanna go grab a coffee? i know a nice cafe around here.“

she suggested, already driving in the direction before you could answer.

obviously you agreed with the idea. spending hours studying and beating up your brain made you deep fried and having coffee with a stunning woman like she is exactly what you need.

her car stopped in front of an overly fancy building. for a second you thought she took you too a designer shop if some sort, but when you glanced out the window it was an actual cafe.

you felt out of place looking at the business men inside. with your hoodie and skirt. basic university fit - comfortable and chill.

ellie looked at you, noticing the slight uneasiness in your body language and look.

"don't worry, you'll be fine, dear."

you exited the car and entered the fancy cafe. chandeliers hanging from the top, covered in golden paint. the walls were painted in a a dark green shade.

it seemed so royal.

apparently ellie was a regular there. the waiter already knew her and greeted her with her name before leading the two of you to a place a bit away from the other people.

"what do you want ?"

she asked after you received the menu. all types of coffees, teas and cakes where listed on it, with prices far beyond your imagination

"a simple cappuccino."

ellie nooded, smiling and passing the order to the waiter, along with ordering a latte for herself.

"don't worry, it's on me."

you smiled and thanked her. when she told you she'd pick you up, you expected everything but not.. this. you'd be happy with getting some takeaway coffee from a local bakery. apparently ellie wasn't.

the coffee came anfd you carried on with you conversation. talking about your interestes, hobbies - everything but not work and uni.

suddenly, her phone rang. it was ellies lawyer.

"excuse me, love. i have to answer this call. i will be right back."

she got up and walked out of the front, looking kind of nervous.

you watched her pass by the window, walking back and forth. her expression changed from anxious and nervous to furious. sipping your coffee, you tried to figure out what was going on but eventually dropped it.

after a while she returned, sitting down again.

"i'm so sorry, but i will have to go back to the office. it's quite urgent."

she emptied her latte and waited for you to finish just as well.

"don't worry, ellie. i get it !"

with an apologising smile, she payed the bill for you two and left the cafe with you by her side.

"may i still drive you home? it'll start to snow soon and i rather have you safe inside before you have to walk and freeze."

a smile painted on your face. to be exact, you weren't used to this kind of princess treatment. but you didn't want to be a burden.

"it's okay, really. i don't want to take more of your time."

"no really, i want to do this."

eventually, you gave in and agreed. the second ellie started the engine, snowflakes started falling from the sky.

„see ? it‘s good than i‘m giving you a lift!“

you quickly typed your adress into her navigation system anf let her drive off. 80s rock music played from her radio as she drove to your home. you enjoyed every second - even tho it was silent between the two of you. both of you enjoyed it.

ellie placed her hand on your thigh and had her other one on her steering wheel. you glanced over. she looked ethereal. her green eyes pierced the snowy streets and her head slowly bopped to the music playing.

a beam of light from the warm streetlights illuminated her face whenever she drove past them and you felt like you‘re in some weird fifty shades of grey fanfiction.

she stopped right in front of your apartment building, glancing over at you.

„i‘m sorry, really.“

„don‘t worry.“

a bright smile was painted onto your face, causing ellies stomach to almost drop. you were such a sunshine on a snowy evening like this. before you could exit your car, she got out, opening the door for you.

„thank you, ma‘am.“

you said and took the hand she help out for you to help you get out. did you need these type of gestures? no, but you certainly enjoyed it. you never were treated this nicely.

she even went to the door with you, watching you unlook it.

„drive safe okay? snowy streets are dangerous.“

the concern in your voice and the worrying look of your eyes almost caused ellie to get a heartattack.

„and thank you. for this afternoon and the coffee, i enjoyed it a lot.“

you added and ellie nodded.

and she did something she never thought she would do - she opened her arms to give you a hug. and you accepted it.

it was a overly long hug and it was so comfortable. you took in her scent, the smell if her very intense and expensive perfume and the warmth of her body.

„i‘ll text you, pretty girl.“

she said, still holding you there. ellie didn’t even want to let go, but eventually had to.

before you went inside, she eyed you again. so pretty even tho you looked tired and wore a normal, casual outfit. you probably were the prettiest girl she ever saw.

„please do. would love to see you again.“

ellie smiled before adding a simple:

„trust me, you will.“

and watching you go inside with a ‚goodbye‘.

and she didn’t know yet that if she would fall for you, she’d fell hard and could never get up again.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

there we go !! thank you for your endless support on what i suppose is part 1 - which was just a brain rot of mine haha. i hope you enjoyed it!

let me know if you want me to keep this going ! xx

update: here goes part 3!

people asking to be tagged:

@harrysslutsstuff @vwonnie @mikaaj

[fatecantstopme]

Never Do That Again

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x reader

Summary: The team is in a tiny town, a town so small that there is only one tiny hotel. What happens when you end up having to share a small room with your boss for a week straight?

Warnings: Angst. Some fluffy fluff. Mentions of death. Suicide. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V). Use of pet names. Swearing.

"Dear God, I'm exhausted," you mumbled as you walked into the little hotel.

"I'm just looking forward to a hot shower," Morgan said from behind you.

"So are we. You smell terrible," Emily teased.

"Shut up."

You all chuckled as you reached the front desk.

"Good evening," the woman at the desk said. "How can I help you?"

"Hi there," you said with a smile as you were the first person to reach the desk. "We're in need of a few rooms."

"Okay, dear. We have one single and three doubles available."

Before anyone else could say anything, Rossi stepped forward and said, "I'll take the single."

The lady handed him the key and he waved to you all as he headed towards the elevator.

"Are you kidding me?" you grumbled.

"Reid and I will bunk together," Morgan said, taking another key from the desk.

You were about to ask JJ to room with you, but she snatched up a key and said, "Emily and I will take a room."

You gave her a look that she pretended not to see.

Hotch sighed heavily and reached for the last key. "I guess that means it's you and me, (Y/L/N)."

You deepened the glare on your face as you looked at JJ. She smiled at you knowingly and you felt the strong urge to smack her. Instead, you simply said, "Guess so, boss."

Everyone moved towards the elevators as a group, but you grabbed JJ's arm and pulled her back to you. "You did that on purpose," you hissed.

"Of course I did."

"J--what the hell am I supposed to do?"

"Now's your chance, (Y/N/N). Time to find out if he wants you as badly as I think he does."

"Or I'm just horny and sleep-deprived for however long we're stuck here," you grumbled.

"I doubt it."

She practically dragged you into the elevator with her and you both fell silent. JJ was the only person you'd ever admitted your feelings to about your boss. She was your best friend and you trusted her implicitly.

When you first told her you liked Hotch, she started paying more attention to how he acted around you. By this point, she was convinced he was into you--like really into you. You weren't so sure. Hotch was always so professional...you couldn't imagine a situation where he would break the rules so blatantly.

The hotel was small, only 8 rooms in total, four on the second floor and four on the third. JJ and Emily's room was on the second, as was yours and Hotch's, meanwhile, Rossi's room and Reid and Morgan's was on the third floor.

Hotch unlocked the door and waited for you to enter before bidding goodnight to JJ and Emily and shutting the door. You managed one last glare in JJ's direction before the door shut, but she shot you a wink and ducked into her own room.

When you turned around and got a full view of the room, you realized just how tiny it was. The two beds were so close together they were almost touching and the only other pieces of furniture in the room were a single nightstand and a small loveseat.

"Well this is...quaint," you managed.

Hotch laughed lightly. "That's one word for it." He tossed his duffle onto the bed closest to the door. "I'll take this one if that's okay with you?"

You nodded and walked over to the other bed and sat down on the edge of it. "You wanna shower first? I'll take longer."

"Sure, thanks." He grabbed what he would need and went into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

You gave yourself a little slap on the face to try and snap yourself out it. Your brain was betraying you as it often did in situations like this. First, you imagined what he would look like without his clothes, then your mind wandered to taking a shower with him, then to being underneath him on the bed. "Shit, (Y/N)," you said to yourself. "Snap out of it."

You laid back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling, waiting for Hotch to come out of the bathroom. You tried to think about literally anything else, but your mind kept traveling back to your boss--as it often did these days.

You knew it was dangerous to let yourself think about him or imagine anything with him. He was beyond off-limits. You couldn't deny the sexual attraction you felt, nor the spark of real attraction, but you sure as hell couldn't act on it. It could destroy both of your lives.

"Uhh...(Y/N)?" Hotch said a little louder. The way he spoke told you it wasn't the first time he'd said your name.

"Sorry--I was lost in thought," you said as you sat up. You were completely unprepared for the sight of him post-shower, his hair was damp and tousled, and he wore nothing but a t-shirt and boxers.

You must have been staring a little too long because he cleared his throat. "Your turn."

"Oh, yeah--right." You stumbled to the bathroom, feeling like a complete idiot. You made fast work of your shower and nighttime routine.

You started digging through your bag trying to find your pjs as the panic started to rise in you. "Fuck," you muttered. "Fuck, shit, fuck!"

"Everything okay in there?" Hotch called.

"Yeah," you called back. "I just--shit--I forgot my pajamas."

"Oh...umm--do you need anything?"

You groaned as you realized all you had was a tank top. "Not to be awkward or anything, but do you maybe have pants?"

He chuckled lightly and you heard him rustle through his bag. "I have a pair of sweats. Will that work?"

Oh, thank god. "Yes! Thank you so much."

You opened the door just enough for him to slide the pants through the crack. You grabbed them gratefully and pulled them on quickly. As expected, they were massive on you. He was broader and taller than you, the sweats making you look like you were a child trying on your father's clothes.

You walked out of the bathroom, holding tightly to the waistband of the pants. "They're slightly big on me," you said lightly.

Hotch looked over at you and froze. His eyes trailed over your body slowly and you felt incredibly exposed under his gaze.

"The uh--the tank was all I had," you mumbled as you climbed into your bed.

Hotch seemed to realize he'd been staring awkwardly and his gaze quickly averted. "Don't worry about it. You can wear whatever you want to bed."

You chuckled. "Thank you?"

He groaned. "Sorry, that came out weird."

"It's okay." You laid down on your bed and sighed. "These beds are tiny."

He laughed. "You're telling me. I've never felt so large in my life."

You looked over at him and giggled. "You look like you're sleeping in a child's bed."

He groaned. "I feel like I'm sleeping in a child's bed. There is no way this is going to be comfortable."

"What size are these beds, anyway?"

"I don't think they even make beds like this. They're slightly larger than a twin, but smaller than a full."

You sighed. "They had them specially made for this tiny room."

He chuckled. "Probably."

You curled up under your covers and settled in for the night, exhaustion finally overwhelming your body. "Could you get the light?"

"Of course." He reached over and turned off the lamp. "Goodnight, (Y/N)."

"Goodnight, Hotch."

**********

"How'd you sleep?" you asked the next morning.

"Terribly," Hotch admitted.

"Me too, honestly."

"It's the tiny bed."

You sighed. "Hopefully we'll only be here a day or two."

The whole team worked hard all day, doing their best to catch the latest unsub. You finally decided to call it a night around 7.

"Let's get dinner and head back to the hotel," Hotch said.

Everyone agreed and you headed to the local diner, one of the only places to get food in this town.

You slid into the booth on the side facing the door, as you always did, and to your surprise, Hotch slid in next to you. JJ was sitting across from you and she smirked slightly when she saw Hotch sit down.

You gave her a 'shut it' look and she just chuckled.

Throughout dinner, Hotch's leg brushed against yours several times and his proximity had you distracted. You could smell his cologne and it made you lightheaded. It was almost embarrassing. When his leg would brush yours, your entire body froze and you found it difficult to breathe.

You were beyond grateful for dinner to be over and to head back to the hotel. But even there you couldn't escape him because you were sharing a damn room. FML.

When you walked back into the hotel room and stared at the tiny beds you groaned audibly.

Hotch followed your gaze and chuckled. "Yeah, not looking forward to that either."

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head and before you could think better of it, you spit said idea out. "Hey, what if we push the beds together to make one big bed?"

Hotch froze. "What?"

"I mean, at least then it'd be like a normal sized bed and maybe then we could get some sleep."

He just stared at you in silence and you quickly realized what you had just suggested.

"Or, not--just kidding. That was a terrible idea."

"No, no--actually, that's not a bad idea," he said.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah! I mean, at least that way we both have a higher chance of actually getting some sleep."

"Okay, cool."

The two of you set to work on moving the nightstand out of the way and pushing the two beds together. It actually did seem to be make sense, at least visually. Hopefully it made sleeping a little more pleasant tonight as well.

"Much better," you said softly as you patted your side of the bed. "Just don't roll me off the bed in the middle of the night."

He laughed. "No promises."

Just like the night before, Hotch showered first, then it was your turn. When you came back out, he was already laying in the bed with his eyes closed.

You moved slowly and lightly, just in case he was asleep. When you crawled into the bed, you noticed the way he was breathing and you couldn't help but smile. He was fast asleep, all the worry lines that normally lived on his face were gone, and you couldn't help but think he looked incredibly peaceful.

You smiled again as you reached across him to turn off the lamp before getting comfortable on your side of the bed. "Goodnight, Hotch," you whispered.

**********

The next day was almost identical to the day before. Work all day, eat dinner, shower, go to sleep.

It was day number four when things finally started to pick up. It was an extremely long day, but the team had successfully identified the unsub. Now it was just a matter of finding him.

Day five was an absolute shitshow. One of the locals had messed up and spoiled the team's chance of catching the unsub. You'd been on a wild goose chase for most of the day and Hotch was in an absolutely foul mood by the time you made it back to the hotel.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" you asked quietly as the two of you sat upright in bed.

"No."

"Okay."

You both sat in silence for several minutes--the heaviest silence you'd ever felt.

"I don't like feeling powerless," Hotch said suddenly.

You turned to look at him in surprise. "No one does."

He shook his head. "It's worse for me. I'm in charge--I'm supposed to be the leader. If I have no control, then what are we supposed to do?"

"It might help to remember you're not alone."

He looked over at you. "I feel alone."

"You're not. You have us," you insisted.

"I shouldn't be burdening any of you with my troubles."

"It's not a burden. We're your family, Hotch. It's what we're there for."

He fell silent again, but it was much less tense than before. After a few minutes, he spoke again. "Can I tell you something?"

"Of course."

"And you won't judge me?"

"I would never judge you," you said honestly.

"Sometimes I lay in bed at night filled with nothing but fear and regret. It's so crippling I can barely move. This case is getting to me, and I--I feel that fear. Every worst case scenario runs through my mind and I feel like I'm drowning."

Instinct takes over and you reach to grab his hand. He tenses, but he doesn't pull away. "I'll be your life-raft," you murmured.

He looked up at you with emotion-filled eyes. You weren't used to seeing anything other than the most stoic expressions on his face and it shocked you beyond belief. But nothing could prepare you for the words about to come out of his mouth. "Can I hold you?" he whispered so softly you almost thought you were hearing things.

"I--uh--you--" you stammered.

"Never mind, forget I said anything."

"No, wait--I was just surprised," you said softly. "If it will help you, then yes, you can hold me."

Without waiting for him to respond, you laid down beside him. He shifted slightly, getting into a more comfortable position. You felt his arm snake around you as he whispered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," you whispered back.

He tightened his grip around your waist and pulled you closer so your back was flush against his front. You couldn't remember a time when you didn't want this, but you didn't imagine it happening quite like this.

It was either exhaustion from the day or the comfort of his arms, but you fell asleep within moments, Hotch not far behind you. Neither of you would admit it, but it was the best sleep you'd gotten in ages.

**********

The next day was different in so many ways. Hotch was different. Opening up to you had changed something in him, something you didn't understand. He was never more than a few feet from you at any point in time, he would brush up against you often, and he would glance at you for much longer than he should have. You weren't sure what to think, and you didn't want to read too much into it.

It was mid-afternoon when you received a phone call that led you to the location of the unsub. The seven of you pulled up to an abandoned house where he was supposedly staying. You entered, guns drawn, and began to clear the house.

You reached one of the back bedrooms and a shot rang out. You ducked back out of the doorway just as another bullet struck the doorframe where you had been standing a second before.

"FBI! Put the weapon down!" you yelled.

"You first," a voice replied.

"Come on, Matthew, it's over. Just put the gun down and come out."

You felt Hotch come up beside you. "She's right, Matthew. We have you surrounded."

You could practically hear the wheels in Matthew's head turning. After several moments of silence, a final shot rang out, followed by a loud thud.

Hotch reached out to stop you, but you pulled away from him and entered the bedroom. Matthew, the unsub, was lying on the floor in the middle of the room. The gun was in his right hand, blood splattered all over the left side of the room.

"Guess we were right about him being suicidal," you said softly. When you turned to look back at Hotch, he was staring at you with a look you couldn't quite place--somewhere between terror and anger.

Before you could ask him what was wrong, the rest of the team started coming into the room. You made a mental note to ask him about it later.

Hotch was quiet during dinner and he was silent when you got back to your room. He didn't even say anything as he crawled into bed.

You'd asked him if he was okay and he'd brushed you off, but you were no fool. You could feel the tension rolling off his body in waves.

You laid there, staring up at the ceiling, wondering what had happened and why he wouldn't speak to you. It was killing you inside and there was nothing you could do about it.

"Never do that again," he said suddenly.

"Do what?" you asked in confusion.

"Put yourself in danger like that. You could have been killed."

"Hotch, I was doing my job."

"Your job is to come home at the end of the day--not get yourself shot by some deranged killer."

"What are you talking about?"

He turned the light on and sat up, anger radiating off him. "You didn't even think--you heard that last shot and you just went into that room. You didn't know what you'd find! You didn't know if he was still alive--if he was going to shoot you. You didn't think about what it would do to me if something happened to you!"

You'd been gearing up to yell back at him until you heard his last sentence. "What it would do to you?" you whispered.

He froze, seemingly realizing in that moment what he'd actually admitted out loud. "I--shit."

"Hotch?" you questioned softly.

He groaned and put his head in his hands. "Forget I said anything."

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

He sighed. "Look, (Y/N). I--I care about you, okay? I...I don't think I could take it if something happened to you."

"Nothing happened, Hotch. I'm perfectly fine."

He finally looked up at you. "This time. What about the next time? Or the one after that? I'm terrified every single time you step into a potentially dangerous situation."

"Terrified of what, exactly?"

"Losing you!" he yelled, exasperated. "Of watching something bad happen to you; of not telling you how I feel; of never getting the chance to touch you or hold you or kiss you--and I can't stand it, (Y/N)! I just can't."

You blinked several times as if that would magically make his words sink in. Of all the ways you'd imagined having this kind of conversation with him, this was most definitely not on the list.

"I'm sorry," you murmured. "I didn't know you worried so much."

His eyes were swimming with emotion and unshed tears. "Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?" he whispered.

You shook your head. "But I think I'm starting to see it."

"I know I'm not supposed to feel like this. I'm not supposed to like you this way or want you like this, but I can't keep suppressing my emotions and pretending everything is fine as it is. It's not fine, (Y/N)--I'm not fine. I can't keep living a lie...it's killing me."

Every word you'd ever learned magically left your brain in that moment. Your heart was hammering in your chest, the only indication you were still alive, the rest of you completely frozen in time.

Then, suddenly, your brain kicked back into gear and you launched yourself towards him, lips locking against his in a passionate kiss. Your words had failed you, but there was no mistaking the emotions in that kiss.

When you separated, you were breathing heavily, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized what you'd done. Before you could apologize, Hotch grabbed you and pulled you back into him, kissing you with as much passion as you'd given him.

"(Y/N)," he breathed against your lips.

You sighed as he grabbed your hips and pulled you onto his lap, lips never leaving yours. His hands snaked up under your tank top, feeling your warm, soft skin with the tips of his fingers.

You let him pull your shirt off over your head and his gaze fell to your exposed breasts. He bit his lip and looked up at you hesitantly, as if asking for your permission.

You grabbed his left hand and placed it directly on your chest. He got the hint and immediately lowered his face to take your pert nipple into his mouth.

You let out a little sigh and ran your fingers through his dark hair. When he nipped at your breast, you gasped and tightened your hold on him.

"Aaron..." you whispered softly, losing yourself in the feeling of his hands and his lips on your body.

He groaned and lifted his head to look at you again. "I never thought my name on your lips would sound so sexy."

You grinned and murmured, "Aaron."

"Now you're just being a tease."

You bit your lip and winked at him.

He chuckled lightly before flipping you onto your back so you were under him on the bed. He reattached his lips to yours, kissing you like his life depended on it.

Your hands began to tug on his shirt and he pulled away from you just long enough for you to yank it over his head. He wasted no time getting back to kissing you, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck.

Your hands caressed every inch of his skin you could reach from your position, the softness of your touch eliciting sweet sounds from his lips.

He rutted his hips against yours and you gasped at the feeling of his very hard member pressing into you.

Your body suddenly went into overdrive--years of pent-up desire rising to the surface. "I need you," you begged.

He lifted his gaze to meet yours. "I'm right here, baby."

You shook your head. "Need more."

He smirked. "Who knew you'd be such a needy girl?"

"Aaron," you whined.

He chuckled. "Alright, alright. Patience, sweetheart." He hooked his fingers under the waistband of your sweatpants and gave them a firm tug. He pulled them down your legs and tossed them off to the side.

You spread your legs for him, revealing your soaking wet core. He moaned at the sight before slipping a finger between your folds to collect the juices that lingered there. He brought his finger up to his mouth and licked it clean, another moan escaping his lips.

"You taste delicious," he murmured.

You could only stare at him, eyes pleading him to give you more.

Normally Hotch would have taken his time teasing you, but he could feel your need radiating off you in waves. Plus, if he was being honest, he needed you just as badly. Waiting just wasn't in the cards tonight.

He dropped to his stomach between your legs and before you could say a word, his mouth was on you, hot breath, wet tongue, and devilish lips dancing across your core, making you gasp with pleasure.

He ate you out like you were his very last meal--and he intended to savor every second of it. Despite having never been intimate with you before, he played your body like an expert musician, hitting every single one of your sweet spots, making you squirm beneath his touch.

"Aaron, please--I'm--" you gasped out.

He moaned, not wanting to stop his ministrations to respond to you. He knew you were close without you having to spell it out. He could feel the way your pussy clenched around his fingers and the way your thighs had begun to shake. He was desperate to feel you cum--to taste your delicious release--so he didn't stop.

Your fingers dug into his scalp and tugged at his hair as you squirmed, pleasure threatening to overwhelm you.

With one last flick of his tongue and motion of his fingers, you cried out his name as your orgasm crashed into you. He held you in place as he lapped up your release, lips not leaving your pussy until you practically dragged him up by his hair.

He smiled down at you and licked his lips, tasting the last of you on them. Your eyes were wide and your body shivered with aftershocks--a feeling you weren't exactly accustomed to.

"Can I return the favor?" you asked, slightly breathless.

"As much as I would love that, I wanna be inside of you too badly to wait--I'm gonna struggle to last as it is."

You smiled. "Then lose the boxers, handsome. Lemme see you."

He sat up and quickly shed his boxers, eyes focused on your face. He knew he was well endowed--and he knew how to use it--but nothing made his chest swell with pride as much as the way you were looking at him right now.

Your eyes were focused on his cock, surprise evident in your gaze as you took in his size. The surprise quickly melted into heady desire and your gaze flicked back up to his face.

"Like what you see?" he teased.

"You know I do," you whispered.

There was something about the way you said it that made him want you even more. As he lined himself up with your entrance, he took a deep breath to try and maintain his composure. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you or lose control.

You wiggled your hips slightly, letting him know you were ready and willing.

He locked eyes with you as he began to slowly slide into your tight, wet heat. Your lips parted and a soft gasp left them as he pushed inside. "I've got you, baby," he murmured.

Your hands gripped his biceps as he kept pushing into you, the stretch threatening to break you right in half. By the time he finally bottomed out, your nails had dug crescent shaped indentations into his skin.

He wanted to wait for your body to adjust to him before he began to move, but you had other plans. "Fuck me, Aaron. Please."

The pleading tone in your voice was all he needed to hear. He began to move, hips setting a fast pace from the start.

The room filled with the sounds of your love-making--moans, whimpers, gasps of each other's names--mixed with the salacious sounds of your bodies coming together.

"You feel so good, baby," he whispered. "Even more incredible than I imagined."

Your mind was completely fuzzy, filled with nothing but the feeling of immense pleasure. As such, you couldn't formulate coherent sentences to respond to anything Hotch whispered to you.

"I could stay here forever--" he moaned as you clenched tightly around him. "Fuck--baby, I'm not gonna last."

You simply moaned in response as he sped up his movements.

"I need you to cum for me, (Y/N/N). Need to feel you--please."

You were clutching onto him, nails raking down his back as he fucked you deeply. "Close," was all you could manage to say to him.

"Can I fill you up, baby girl? Wanna make you mine."

Something about his words drove you wild. You screamed out "Yes!" followed by "Aaron!" as you came, body shaking beneath him.

The way your pussy clenched around his cock as you came sent him right over the edge and he filled you with his seed. His hips faltered on his last few strokes and he whispered sweet nothings into your ear as you both came down from your highs.

He slowly pulled out of you and your body shivered slightly at the loss of contact. He quickly got up, stumbling slightly, as he made his way to the bathroom for a warm washcloth.

He came back and began to gently clean you up. When he was done, he tossed the washcloth onto the floor and crawled into the bed beside you.

"Come here, pretty girl," he mumbled.

You obliged, moving your body so you were up against his side. He pulled you closer and you rested your head on his chest.

"Infinitely better than I'd imagined," he whispered into your hair.

You chuckled lightly. "Agreed."

"Oh? So you imagined it too?"

You glanced up at him, a light blush covering your cheeks. "Of course I did."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're very good at hiding your attraction."

"Thank you. It's not exactly easy when you're surrounded by a bunch of profilers."

He nodded. "I know what you mean. I'm surprised you didn't know I liked you before this."

You bit your lip and looked away.

"What is it?"

"Well...JJ knew."

"Oh?"

"She insisted you liked me...and she also knows that I like you."

"Ahh, well...I suppose it was only a matter of time."

You looked up at him again. "You're taking this surprisingly well."

He shrugged. "It's not as if I was planning on keeping this a secret."

Surprise lit up your face. "You weren't?"

He returned your surprised expression. "Of course not. I finally have you, (Y/N), and I'm sure as hell not letting go."

"But what about the rules?"

"To hell with the rules. We deserve to be happy."

"Who are you and what have you done with Aaron Hotchner?" you teased softly.

He smiled. "Him? Well...he fell in love."

You inhaled sharply.

"You don't have to say it back, (Y/N). I have no expectations here...but I know how I feel and I needed to say it."

You lifted your head off his chest to look at him better. "I know I don't have to, but I want to. I love you too," you whispered.

A thousand emotions filled his eyes the moment those words left your lips. He leaned down to kiss you and you felt your body respond to him immediately.

Before you knew it, you were straddling him as you made out, desire pulsating between you. "Round two?" you asked with a grin.

"I thought you'd never ask."

**********

The next morning, you went down for breakfast a few minutes before Hotch. You'd woken up to his lips on the back of your neck and shoulders--kisses that quickly turned to more fiery passion.

You'd finally convinced him to come shower with you, which of course took longer because he insisted on giving you just one more orgasm.

When you walked into the little seating area on the first floor, you were greeted by the rest of your team. Every single one of them had shit-eating grins on their faces as they said good morning to you.

"How was your night, (Y/N)?" Emily asked lightly.

"Did you sleep well?" JJ teased.

"I didn't get much sleep," you said honestly--knowing they clearly were already aware of that.

"I imagine Hotch didn't either," Morgan said with a grin.

You shot him a look. "Alright, out with it."

"I'm just saying, (Y/N/N), the walls are really thin," he responded.

Your eyes widened and you looked at JJ for confirmation.

"We're just really grateful for those noise-canceling headphones you got us for Christmas last year," JJ answered.

"Oh. My. God," you groaned.

"Morning everyone," Hotch said as he walked into the room, completely oblivious to the current conversation.

"Morning, Aaron," Rossi said knowingly, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Hotch glanced at you, taking note of your very red cheeks. Comprehension dawned on his face and his eyes widened slightly.

"Thin walls," you whispered.

To your surprise, Hotch simply smiled. "Saves us the trouble of telling them we're dating."

Rossi was the first to laugh and the rest of the team quickly joined in. You were glad they knew--even if it was in the most awkward way possible. You knew they loved and supported both you and Hotch, and that wouldn't change with your new-found relationship.

[the-midnight-blooms]

hear a siren's call | cjh

pairing: siren!choi jongho x fisher!reader AU: fantasy au word count: 4.6k

masterlist

Whatever you do, do not follow a Siren’s call. Its sweet voice may entice you, its looks may blind you. But to follow its heed, is to open your arms to the Angel of Death and say “Let me be your devotee.” To follow its call is to be marked by the Siren, forever.

The hypnotic beam of the ocean called for her in the dead of the night, where the dilapidating of her dwindling soul aided her quest to hunt for the food she was deprived of. It was the allure of the ocean too. Calling her name, its whispers sent a tantalising shiver down her spine, beckoning her. Magnetising her. Each of her limbs bowed to the sea, begging to feel the rush of cacophonous tides slap against her skin. The spray of sea salt-a musk, she could get intoxicated on until the Angel of Death travelled to her from darkened lands.

Her fingers flipped over the dense pages eyes scouring over reams of text and intricate drawings of the enigmatic creatures that harboured the sea, she sat on the floor of her boat, the barge settling upon the large expanse of the desolate sea. The moon hung serenely in the sky, the flickering of candles that penetrated the bleak homes had been blown out as sleep overtook the aching hearts of the townspeople. Over the past few weeks, the village had been struck with a shortage of food. Prices inflated as terrified fisherman refused to sail out into the sea and hunt for fish. It seemed the weather was equally aghast to the earth's aquarian- for a storm was brewing, the sky darkening into a stony grey, wind howling every night parrying against the wooden doors that were tightly locked, the metal hinges gripped onto the architraves for dear life. When she asked why they were so terrified, it was revealed that a daring fisherman had angered the Siren’s; thinking that a man was God and not made by him. Thinking that a Siren's land could easily be as colonised as one human colonised another. In turn their malevolent roars had burst his ear drums, their nails as sharp as knives impaled brutally into his supple flesh. With severed limbs, and gashes embroidered into his corpse, they had pushed back at the boat-rolling onto the port with poisoned fishes. A mockery. A warning, even.

Do not dare to anger a Siren. Its wrath exceeds boundaries that surpasses human imagination.

But the townspeople were wrought with hunger, starvation killing of the younger child with a weakened immune system that was simply pending on a trigger. Starvation had killed off her mother too, along with her father-who had in fact been taken by the sea itself. It was just her and her brother remaining, hungry and struggling to make ends meet with his measly job as a clerk. He promised that when he’d conjured sufficient funds, they’d move to the city to forge a better life for themselves and she would too be able to work. Though that seemed impossible with the way that progression, in his line of work, was almost unattainable. Thus, with her already struggling to stand on her own two feet-she decided to take matters in her own hands. It seemed quite impulsive of her, but she had enough skill to fish for the whole economy- it was just the danger she needed to steer clear off. As long as she didn’t venture into their lands and cause a ruckus, she’d be fine. Right?

“What am I supposed to do? If I don't go out there then we'll both be dead by the end of the month.” She argued. He slumped deeper into the sofa, resting his head in his palms.

“I’m just going to have to travel to the nearest town and see what they have.”

“The nearest town is three hours away. How will you cope?”

“I’ll cope alright. You stay here, its too dangerous. If the Sirens don't take you, the sea will.” He patted her head, gingerly as if to console her. She hated the way she was confined to their small home, feeling helpless as every day her brother came back home with little pennies in his pocket. Despite her best efforts to convince him otherwise, she failed a number of times. It wasn't until he handed her all of the information she needed into the palm of her hand, that he had catalysed her venture out to the coast.

“The fishermen are thinking about going out to sea again.” Her ears perked up at the news, though she kept her gaze fixated to the chopping board as she sliced the vegetables. Flicking her eyes over to the stirring pot, she stirred the soup, her hands circulating the pot- before gripping the knife again. Picking up the map settled beside him, he ambled to her side-leaning against the countertop. “Look. They’ve said that on the safe side, we won’t use the first and second harbour. We’ll have to use the Queen’s Harbour, but steer clear of this part instead.” Fixating her gaze on the map, she gave him a curt nod, reeling in the co-ordinates and committing as much as she could-subtly moving forward as if she could not see the map clearly from where she stood.

“That’s good, but you should plan to make your trip anyway. They’ve been saying that for two weeks straight but nobody's been moving.” She advised. Agreeing with her - he grabbed the tin off the shelf, folding up the map neatly before placing it in. He didn’t notice her memorising his words, lips moving up and down as she poured his soup into the bowl dropping it in front of him. Before the dawn rose, she scuttled out of her bed-reaching for the tin on the shelf to steal the map.

Their fishing boat was not the largest among the array that sat proudly upon the shoal of the iridescent waves. It was ghostly white in colour, but perhaps the most meticulously cared for seeing that when their father had left it to their possession, he entrusted them to care of it. No matter how scarcely they went fishing. Throwing in her tools, she jumped into the boat, unravelling the ropes that tied the boat down to the docks. Hauling at the heavy oars, the barge drifted outwards towards the large expanse of the sea. She didn't travel too far out, considering the fish were mostly dense near the rocky shores. Moving out early was tactful too; grabbing the bait from the box, she pierced it to the end of the hook, slinging the line into the water.

Her luck was poor. The wind had gotten a lot colder picking up its pace, and she forgot her coat back at home in the rush of having to escape to the shore without being seen. With trembling limbs, she tried and tried again-growing tired and hungry yet all the fish seemed to have dispersed. Paddling out a little, she tried a number of areas yet she failed.

"Come on fishies. I gotta eat." She pleaded, turning the reel handle, the fly line drew up and out of the water. The hook was empty. With an exasperated sigh, melancholia flooded through her. Losing all hope, she wrapped away all of her equipment settling it to the side. One last time, she peered into the water, hoping to find a small aquarian shimmering beneath. Instead, she sought the silhouette of a much larger figure- flickers of a broad back with dark hair. A Siren?

“Come throw your heart into the waves

Your soul is lost, and still it saves

Drink me in and come undone”

A melodious voice permeated her ears, its hum serenading her blood, smoothing the flow of her palpitating heart. Its voice so eerily translucent, vibrating through her muscles, shimmering in the breeze as her hair fluttered delicately in the midnight sky. Her body paralysed to the spot, her skin itching to rip the fabric that clung to her like glue. At once, she lunged for the oars ignoring the intense rippling of the cerulean sea as she travelled the surface of the boat. Her arms rowed powerfully, as the waters rocked harshly against her. Panicked breaths escaped her, as she oared through the waters, the port in sight though tiredness gnawed at her aching muscles.

“Bring your body unto me”

Her eyes felt itself droop, her panicked breaths became eroticised by its seductive voice. She hated the bewitchment, she hated the way she wanted to feel its touch upon her cold, paling skin. Yet she persisted against her wild emotions, rowing and rowing. A shriek escaped her lips, as the boat rocked backwards upon a sudden weight. Paralysed to the spot, the saccharine hums edged closer. A shadow loomed above her, creeping down, its slender fingers reaching to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“My sweet girl, you’re so strong.” A masculine voice whispered, sending a shot of delirium through her. “Let me gift you, my dear.” A pearl necklace clasped itself around her neck. Her hands flung towards it immediately. Daringly, he pressed his lips to the gleam of her neck. Instantly, she snapped her head around and the enigmatic figure was gone, lost to the sea. As soon as she reached the port, she grabbed all the fishing tools and dashed back to her home. With the dawn slowly infiltrating the sky, she placed all of the tools into the shed, and traipsed back into her bedroom.

Catching her eyes in the mirror, the pearl necklace was coated with a silvery blue, glistening in the darkness of her room. Her hands slid to the back of her neck, in a desperate attempt to find the clasp. There was no clasp. Immediately, panic fulfilled her, tears rushing to the brim of her eyes. She’d just have to pull it off. Yet she could not, as she tried to tug at the pearls, the skin around her neck pulled violently. With a painful gasp, a weary sob eructed from her - flopping onto her bed she continued to sob into the pillow.

She was marked by a Siren. There was no other possible explanation. Reaching for the book she'd thrown onto her bed, she frantically flipped through the pages. Looking for something, anything, on markings; their potentially symbolic meanings and how to get rid of them.

Siren's can mark humans in a multiple of ways. There are three key types of markings. A tattoo can simply mean the mark of death. Marking can also be through inhabiting sharp canines, longer nails even a tail which allows a Siren to share your body so it can walk freely across the lands. This is temporary, the markings can be removed safely. The last one is marking by what the Siren's call 'gifting'. This is mainly carried out by male Sirens, they often give their human counterparts gifts such as earrings, bracelets, necklaces.

On instinct her hands flew to her neck, where a string of pearls were embedded into her skin, the bumps sending a jolt of despair through her. It felt like a set of hands gripping around her neck. Her eyes shot back down to the book spread across the laps, patiently waiting for her brother's footsteps to stop loitering outside her door.

This is potentially one of the worst types of marking. This is the mark of 'love' where the Siren's now own the body of their lover. It is up to them to do what they wish, whether it be marriage, mating, slavery, a slow death. This mark can only be removed by the Siren itself.

"Where did you get that necklace?" Her brother pondered, the same evening as he came back from work. They sat opposite each other on the dining table, in the crook of their tiny kitchen.

"Oh, erm Mum's jewellery box." Giving her sheepish smile, he turned back to his food.

"It looks nice, speaking of. One of our regular clients at work was asking about you. He saw that photo of you, me and Mum that we took last year." Humming as if she was paying attention, her spoon ran through the middle of her plate-playing with her food. Her ears had tuned out the sound of his voice as her eyes wandered out into the distance where the sea rested upon the crest of the shore. She had no choice but to go back, she needed to find the Siren who marked and get the wretched necklace of her neck. "Anyways, he's rich so I think you should marry him."

"Marry who?"

"San. We wouldn't have to worry about money again, plus he likes you." Her eyebrows creased in confusion, before huffing. He’d brought up the topic of marriage before, wanting his sister to be married to someone who could protect her better than him. Keep her safe and more comfortable than he ever could. In response, she’d tease him about having a wife- but he’d only shake his head saying he needed a lot more money and job security before settling down to start a family.

"Where did San come from?"

"Where you even listening to me?" He questioned with furrowed brows, wiping his hands with the napkin. Her silence caused him to release a sigh of frustration, throwing the dirty tissue her way.

At night, she moved along the shore again-once again unravelling the ropes, setting out to sail. At first she had to wait for her brother to fall asleep, which seemed futile due to his incessant insomnia, which had him roaming around the home at merciless hours. The waters were eerily quiet, letting go of the oars, she got up, summoning as much courage as she had to peak over the side of the boat.

"Bring your body unto me."

A jostle of horror coursed through her veins, as a pair of hands gripped onto the hull. Aerial hums transgressed the cool air once more, his round face slowly arose from the water, big eyes captivating her-the curve of his cheeks and menacingly charming smile, that had her body swaying towards him. His skin was tinted with a light blue shade, his collarbones painted in a gleaning silver glitter. His bare chest triggered a warm flush to spread over her cheeks. Following the movements of his pink lips, she could not help herself as she leaned over the side of the boat to draw her hands closer to him.

"Let your graveyard be the sea, Come away and drink it in."

His large hands ensnared around her wrist, jerking her body over the side, a potent force sunk her under the tumultuous waves. Her lungs screeched for air, the blood inside sizzling as the Siren tightened his grip swimming towards the bed of the sea. Her mind in a haze, body: his, as she heeded to his command. The bewitching croons dispersed as they moved closer to bed; the roar of the wind, rushing of water, wind rippling the surface ached her ears. Before she knew it, the bed of the sea drowned her in-her body pushed through the small crevices into a distant land.

A harsh cough escaped her, exhaling loudly, her body slumped against a rock, eyes fluttering as her temple felt as if a trident had been lodged through it. The Siren sook in her figure with his wide eyes. Her body trembled as an array of goosebumps rippled over her skin, she caught a glint in her peripheral vision-the outline of a sharp blade within arms reach. Upon seeing the Siren, she retreated backwards in fear.

"Were you the one to put this necklace on me?" He nodded, his wide eyes glossed with a certain type of innocence, the type that made her want to forgive him. "Can you take it off?" Her voice brimmed with desolation. His lips pulled into a frown.

“I can't. You belong to Choi Jongho now. You're mine.” Just as she predicted, he would hold his ground-stating true to her textbook knowledge of his remarks. She understood why they said to never follow a Siren’s call now; the beauty of his man had her unconsciously drifting towards him. The desire to outstretch her hand and address the surface of his smooth skin, to feel his bare skin pressed against hers. Those thoughts felt abhorred, but Siren’s were creatures of seduction; pumping lust into their subjects. One last time, her hands reached to the back of het neck; in an attempt to rid herself of the necklace he draped around her. With no clasp she slid her finger through the pearls-yanking the beads as hard as she could feeling the harrowing stretch of her skin as she tugged; her breath becoming lodged in her throat. “Don’t! You’ll rip out your throat.” Arduously, her arms fell at her sides as her weak endeavours failed pathetically.

"Why-why did you do this to me?" Resting her back against the rock, her chest heaved furiously.

"I like pretty things. If I see something pretty, I keep it." Suddenly, her arm stuck out towards him, as if her fingers were magnets attracted to the opposite pole. Harshly she tried to retract, yet instead her whole body lurched forward- into the water-twirling as if orchestrating an elegant dance. Taking an agitating step back, her limbs heavy as she tried to repel her body against him.

“Stop this!” This time both arms stuck out as if she was reaching out for him. Firmly plastering both feet to the ground, her arms remained fixated in the same humiliating position.

“If you want to hug me, you’ll have to come a bit closer.” He teased, he found the spectacle in front of him quite amusing.

“I don’t want a hug. Stop this now!” She didn’t mean for her voice to be crowded with as much apprehension and desperation as it was now, her bottom lip quivering slightly. It was so painful to repel, yet it was damning to surrender.

“I can’t. Our souls are bound now, the attraction you’re feeling? One day you won’t even be able to fight back.” She slumped to the floor, rubbing her hand against her chest as if it would soothe the pain she was feeling. Her lungs were burning, her heart was palpitating, the tension between was growing thick was every waking moment. Shutting her eyes, she curled up into a ball; the tormenting pull on her muscles relaxed, she released a contented sigh for a single second, before she felt a warm weight rest on her waist.

“Get your hand off me.” She snapped, a warm chuckle escaped from his pink lips.

“It feels much better, though. Doesn’t it?”

“No.” His hand retracted immediately at her dismissal, the pain washed slowly into her blood again, like the tides that tugged the sand slipping into unspeakable depths of the ocean- the sharp spike jolting through her so much that she could not even breathe. Irrationally, she jumped into his arms- craving his skin as one craved morphine; wrapping her arms around his own waist to feel the morphine that soothed the burn of a thousand hot knives impaling her supple skin. The pain dispersed as if it was never there to begin with. “Could you at least get the necklace off me?” She begged, peering to look up at him through her lashes. She was just going to have to play his game and win.

“Why?” His lips fell into a frown.

“I don’t like pearls.” She lied. Of course she adored them, she spent the majority of her childhood picking them out from oyster shells-creating small pearl necklaces and earrings.

“What do you like instead? Sapphires? Gold?” Running his hands through the length of her hair, he placed a gentle kiss on the top of her forehead.

“I don’t really like jewellery. Could you just take it off? Please?” His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “My love.” She whispered, his heart swayed with her every breath-drunk on the fumes of her every exhale. Catching sight of the fish hook behind him, she leaned forward, momentarily stopping in front of his face. Was she really going to do this? What choice do I have? Delicately, she pressed her own lips to his, circling her arms around her neck, to pull his head towards her. Her arms outstretched behind her to yeild the blade as close to her as she could. He pushed his body forward, her back hitting daintily against the rock. His body hovered over hers; warm breath leaving a trail of desire littering over her skin. Before she could blink, he began to pepper kisses over her neck. Slowly and softly his head slid down, dangerously lower and lower. It was then she realised how low cut the neck of her dress was. Unconsciously, her hands rinsed through his raven hair-pressing his head down deeper into her collarbone. With a hand around her neck, the heavy weight of the pearls lightened the load on her neck.

“Thank you.” She breathed out. With his head dug into her collarbone, she held back a grunt as she strained to reach for blade, the handle slipping into her palms like glue. Languidly, she drew the knife closer to his abdomen- the honed end waltzed on his skin. Taking a deep breath, the knife dug into the crevice of his skin; pushing the weight of his body off her, she scrambled to her feet, the ends spewing blood like raindrops. His heaving breaths pervaded the air, his siren eyes glaring out.

“I love you and this how repay me?” Letting out a forced laugh, his cackles sent dangerous ripples through the water- before he could do anything else she darted away from rock- the drag of the water halting her. “You clever bitch!” His scream echoed within the caverns yet her feet travelled as far as they could away from him, the water rising from her knees all the way to her chest. She hadn’t thought this was through- how would she get out? Quickly, her eyes scouted her surroundings, until she found a small hole carved within a rock yet large enough for her to fit through. Inhaling a deep breath, she dove into the water arms and legs moving powerfully to resist the harsh waves his anger had conjured. Lurching herself of the sea bed, she swung up her arms, flailing her legs to travel upwards feeling his angered roar tremble through her bones.

“You are no more, you are no less.

For all must die, all must rest.”

His hymns would not work now, she was no longer bound to him with the pearls having been rid from her body. Her head pushed up the surface of the water, oxygen powering into her lungs- inhaling as much as she could. Kicking her feet to stay afloat, she glided towards the boat- with an iron tight fist she flung herself over, rolling onto the floor. Nimbly, she got up towards the oars; smacking them down as hard as she could into the water. The boar tipped backwards with the sudden weight, her head snapping back; she was succumbed to his deadly gaze. If looks could kill.

“You forgot the necklace.” He threw the pearls in her direction, the clatter making her flinch. As fast as she could, she took hold of the oar-slamming the wood against his knees as hard as she could. Letting out a painful grunt, she tackled him to the floor. With a fish hook in sight, she grabbed it- as a beggar grabbed morsel- lifting it above her head, pummelling it into his rubbery skin. Drowning out the sounds of his screams, as she mutilated his skin; gutting it as one gut fish. Repeating the action. Until her arms had given up on her. Chucking the blade into the water, tears rushing to the brim of her eyes, she let out a pained sob. A scream terrorised the waters, purling through the underworld, stunting the water’s fluidity. Her blood stained hands cupped her sides of her cheeks, running through her hair- tears washing away the blood over his body.

In the distance, a figure had pounded into the water- using the little strength she had to push the boat on its head. A Siren’s body floated down towards the sea bed, as the soft waves carried her body to the docks.

Her brother’s trip to the next town proved successful, they were far from hungry-and he bought a little more than he should have; managing to sell a load in the town’s market. After a while, the fisherman formed a congregation and finally went out to sea. At first she was unsure if the Siren’s were still angry as she killed Jongho. Then again, she didn’t know how beloved he was to them. She didn’t want to know either, the image of his dead body engraved in her head. Yet when they came back with mounds of fish, and the economy was booming again, she had come to a quick conclusion that he must have not been anything but a head count. She never went near the sea again, for every step closer to the coast meant a step closer to Jongho despite the fact that his soul had been taken by the Angel of Death. At night, she could not help but let her mind litter to the way his touch kissed her skin; soon after she was reminded of the way she brutally murdered him. Over time, she suffered from insomnia like her brother, staying hidden in her bedroom to avoid suspicion of her sudden sleep apnea.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go fishing with me?” She nodded, unable to tell him that their boat had been lost the waves now- with a few bits of their equipment. Perhaps it was her brother’s insomnia that had impaired his judgement, for he didn’t notice the missing equipment and when he didn’t enquire about the missing boat- confusion struck through her. “What about the boat? It’s still there, why would it be anywhere else?” At first she didn’t believe him, so summoning all the fortitude she had, she made her way down to the docks to see him off to the sea. And there it was. No blood stains, no damage, pearly white as it had always been. Not wanting to entertain a foreign thought (of Jongho not being dead) she assumed maybe the other fisherman had been kind enough to return it to them.

Maybe it was San. She’d finally met him that day by the docks- she could understand her brother’s insistence to marry him. For now, she’d wait and let things settle as they were- and he was a kind soul keen on waiting for her.

Sat on her bed, lazily drifting her eyes through the words on a book- she aimlessly drew her pencil across. A knock, followed by the door creaking open, got her up from her bed- her brother stood in the doorway summoning for her.

“I made a friend whilst fishing.”

“That would be a first.” She joked, placing her book aside to give him attention.

“I thought I’d introduce you to him. He’s a natural at hunting for fish. And he let me use his equipment too.” She followed her brother to the front door. “I invited him to dinner.” She gave him a pointed look, huffing as she’d have to prepare food for one more mouth. Braking violently by the doorway, her mouth hung slightly agape as she took in the figure before her.

He turned around, those same wide eyes greeting her again. His round cheeks, uplifting as he pulled his lips into a charming smile. He was clad in the same fisherman’s dress as her brother, hair smoothed back as if untouched by a drop water. He sent a taunting wave.

“Hi, I’m Jongho.” Her words lodged in her throat, her brother sending her a displeased look.

“I’m sorry Jongho, she’s shy sometimes.” He flicked his hand reassuringly. Digging his hand into his pocket, he pulled a rectangular black velvet box.

“Here, I heard you like pearls.”

All Right Reserved © the-midnight-blooms

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

A/N: may edit later!!!! Bro just wanted to give her some pearls 😭 we need more jongho’s, oc gotta get her shit together honestly 🙄✋🏻 the song is from a book called The Siren by Kiera Cass

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

[harmslength]

Milk and Honey —

Paring | Neil Lewis x Reader

Word Count | 4.9K

Summary | Being a mother is no easy task. After a long day of muscle pains, sleep deprivation and overall exhaustion—your adoring husband comes home to help.

TLDR - Post pregnancy hormones, pent up sexual frustration and— oh dear god milk?!

Info | SMUT (18+ only), unprotected sex (p in v), established relationship, breeding kink, lactation kink, mommy and daddy kink, impregnation, pregnancy body mentioned, milk sipping and titty sucking (hell yeah)

Notes | posting this now or I genuinely never will. Not my proudest work but here we are. I’m also incredibly aware that I am subjecting y’all to my own weird kinks…Don’t worry! It will only get worse from here :)

This piece is dedicated to my coworker Bay who told me she accidentally took 90 “period cramp relief” pills that ended up making her lactate. Love u girl 🫶🏽

Build Your Own Adventure | you already know ;) tested it out, it’s fiiilllthyyyy

You laid in a ball on top of your bed. Freshly washed linens and clothes circling you like vultures.

You were exhausted, sleep deprived and you ached all over. Every movement made your muscles tense and your migraine grow.

It’s been three months since you had given birth to your little bundle of joy. Right about now though, your child was a lot more like a bundle of terror.

The baby rarely ever slept, too hungry to sleep and too stubborn to latch. It’s not the babys fault though, you knew that. It’s just—well, it’s fucking hard work.

——

You tried your best to wait up for your husband, you truly did. But your eyes grew heavy and your body aches slowly melted into a soft tingle as you fell into a much needed slumber.

You were awoken by the sound of your bedroom door closing. Groaning at the sudden intrusion of your dreams, you rolled over to look at your intruder.

“You’re home.” You mumbled to him groggily. Neil quickly slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed next to you, pushing off the clothes and freshly folded linen off the bed in the process.

You groaned and reached out for it, a heavy complaint ready to be expelled. But Neil just grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips and kissed it, shushing you with the promise of the laundry being cleaned up later.

“The baby asleep?” He asked while he buried his face in between your shoulder and neck. You felt him take a deep inhale as his fingers trailed down your sore body.

“Mhmm,” you hummed, relaxing at the touch of your loving husband.

“Good.” He smiled and placed a gentle kiss to your neck. You craned your head slightly and welcomed it.

Neil’s soft hands traced the peek of skin that was exposed below your shirt. Lines of stretch marks covered your stomach, but he didn’t mind. He never did, he loved every part of you.

“Thank you for taking care of the baby,” Neil placed kisses along your collarbones.

“I’m so lucky to have you.” Fingers trailed up your shirt to the soft and supple mounds that were your breasts.

You didn’t even realize it, but milk had soaked through the thin layer of your shirt; dripping down and making it sticky against your skin.

“So lucky to have you,” he echoed, his hands slightly trembling, his fresh hard on pressing into your thigh.

You loved the attention Neil gave you, but with how sore your body was from recovering, the constant care of your baby and the ever-growing pressure from the milk trapped in your breasts; you were almost at your breaking point.

“Neil— baby, not tonight.” You protested and gently pushed him away. Neil clung on though, his desire for you borderline insatiable.

“What’s wrong, is Mommy not feeling well?” He cooed into your ear, making you tingle all over.

He had started calling you that—mommy—right after you both found out that you were pregnant. It was sweet for the most part. Mostly coming off as innocent, but when he said it like that—

His fingers tweaked at your sore nipples, always hard and leaking these days. You winced slightly, clenching your teeth and letting out a soft hiss.

“Come on, use your words Mommy.” He teased, making your lower half grow slightly hot as you attempted to fight off his advances.

“I’m so exhausted, my body—“ He interrupted you with the slide of one his hands ghosting past your navel and onto the radiating heat between your legs.

“Mhmm, keep going.” He urged you to continue.

You were slowly getting overwhelmed, your shirt dampening more and more, your arousal slowly building, slowing making its way up a steady hill as it always did.

“My body is overworked, Neil. I-I love staying home and caring for the baby, but with the feeding and the—“ His hand slipped between your thighs, cupping your mound.

“—changing and never sleeping, it’s been so tough.. I’m just so overwhelmed.” You breathed out, little tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You took a deep, long breath in and exhaled.

Neil understood, or at least made sure that you knew he listened to your every word. He was always attentive and kind with you but something about carrying his child for nine months really pushed him into overdrive.

During the pregnancy you had made a habit— or well the baby had made a habit of craving weird foods at the oddest hours. Neil spent plenty of nights standing in 7/11’s at 3 in the morning, or mixing all kinds of weird concoctions that you asked for.

Pickles and ice cream, a Banquets Salisbury Steak dinner, a whole raw onion— you could go on and on.

Massages and bubble baths became a nightly routine for you as well—as Neil insisted. Even closing up the store earlier so he’d have time to cook you dinner.

You thought about these moments as Neil coddled you close to him. Even with all these wonderful things he’s done, there was never an expectation for repayment or a favor due. You simply being his wife, the mother of his child was more than enough.

Neil pushed back the strands of hair that clung to your forehead, you just knew you looked like a mess.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.” He consoled you as the tears started to build up, you were exhausted and your pregnancy hormones haven’t exactly worn off yet apparently.

“I know it’s been really hard on you since I’ve been back at the store, but you have been doing such an amazing job.” Neil said softly, running his thumbs over your damp cheeks and kissing the top of your head. He wrapped you close to his chest; the damp patch on your shirt now soaking into his.

He cupped your chin in his hand and tilted your head up to look at him.

“You’re the best wife anyone could ask for.” He said earnestly, his gaze passionate and affirming. He always told you this and it never got old. Butterflies would swoon in your chest at the sound of him calling you his wife. It felt like most days you were lucky just to have him.

“But you’re right, this isn’t a job for one person..” He shifted and pulled himself closer to you so you were both eye level.

“Let me take off just a few more weeks, so you can get a break.” He tried reasoning with you but you were having none of it.

“Neil you can’t, you’ve already taken off more time than you should. John and Lucien need you, the store needs you.” You objected. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both have had this conversation.

“They’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Plus I miss you and the baby so much, every minute I’m counting down till I can see you guys next.”

Neil’s words made your heart grow fonder but the answer was still no.

“Neil—“ you protested and finally he caved.

“Okay, okay well at least let my mom come and help, she loves you guys so much and I know she wouldn’t mind.” He offered.

“Are you sure…? I really don’t want to bother her-“

“I’m positive. I can call her tomorrow.” He assured and you pondered over it for a minute. It was a no brainer really, so you agreed.

“Okay..” you relented, nodding your head while he held it in his hands.

“Yeah? Okay.” he nodded with a big goofy smile on his face. He placed a passionate kiss to your lips before peppering your face with little pecks. You laughed, already your dampened mood brightening. He always knew how to cheer you up.

Carefully, he placed himself between your legs, pushing himself up so he was leaning over you. One of his hands traced your hip as he stared down into your eyes.

Your hair had been pulled back into a bun except for the few stray pieces, you had slight bags under your eyes and now even more the milk stain was obvious.

“You poor thing..” He purred, as he took you in.

“Overworking your body to take care of my child..” He brought his hand up to trace your cheek lightly.

“I think it’s time you let daddy take care of you.” He whispered against your ear, making the room grow steadily hotter and hotter.

You looked into his eyes, basically swimming in them as his pupils grew wider with each passing second. He was ready to dive in, to pamper and devour all in one.

Before you could say anything, his hands crawled up your wasted shirt and cupped your enlarged breasts. Every chance he could he’d have his hands on them. Rubbing, groping, licking, pinching—all of the above. It was only lately where you couldn’t stand them being played with and it was driving Neil insane.

You winced and grabbed his wrist, urging him to stop.

“They’re sore.. please.” You begged and Neil leaned down to place another kiss to your hand.

“I’ll be gentle.” Neil assured and went back to what he was doing. He slid the shirt over your head, lifting your arms and slipping it past your head and shoulders.

His hands gently wound their way around your tits, pushing them together and watching as the milk dribbled out, just a little, just enough for a taste.

“Neil—“ you whispered in distress and he shushed you lightly. He craned his head and scooted down so his hard on was pressing up against your heat.

“They’re so full.” He admired, his eyes taking mental shots at the sight of them. He had been touched starved for the past three months, his body basically itching to be close to you.

Since giving birth you’ve both been either too exhausted to be intimate or too busy. Any other chance he could though, he was rubbing himself against you or fondling you. Each time being met with a giggle and swatting him away, or him finishing in his pants while you laid there and encouraged him.

He couldn’t help it though, when it came to you he was a depraved man. Never getting enough of you—truly insatiable.

You watched him as he slowly licked the circumference of your nipple, lapping up the droplets of milk like he was dehydrated. You gasped seeing him relish in the taste and latch his mouth to the bud.

It started slow, his mouth kitten licking and prodding, never using his teeth no matter how badly he wanted to nip at you.

Soon though his focus was completely centered around your tits. His eyes fluttered shut and soft moans escaped his lips, vibrating around it.

It still hurt of course, and not necessarily in a good way. It was painful for him to even touch them but you enjoyed seeing him like this so much that you fought through it. You carded your fingers through his hair and tugged lightly, knowing he loved when you did that.

That elicited a whimper from him as his eyes snapped open and softened when he met your gaze. Your pupils equally the size of saucers as you stared down at this wonderful sight in front of you.

Neil’s lips latched tighter and gently he started to suck, keeping his eyes on you the entire time as you gasped at the feeling—the pull.

He brought both hands to your breasts as his hips ground into your clothed heat. He had one focus now, and it was drinking every last drop of you till you were spent.

“Fuck, Neil,” you whined, finding all of this oddly pleasurable. This was most definitely new, sure he had sucked on your nipples before but he’s never drank from them.

You watched his eyes roll to the back of his head, his breathing labored, body hungry for more. You watched a droplet of milk spill from the corner of his mouth, his throat swallowing, basically gulping down as much as he possibly could.

He pulled off just enough to take a breath, and move to the next one. The one hand that wasn’t being occupied holding your tits in place, slithered down and slipped past your pants and panties, finding a goldmine of wetness waiting for him.

Neil moaned and looked up at you to watch your reaction as he brought two digits to your clit. Moving in slow, diligent circles and making you squirm as you pressed your body up into his fingers. It’s been a long three months for the both of you.

“Does that feel good, mommy? Do you like when I touch you like this?” He teased, making you bite down hard on your bottom lip to stop yourself from whimpering.

“Y-Yes.” You choked out, slowly losing your mind to his aggressive touches.

Neil licked at his milky lips, savoring the taste before he pressed them to yours, forcing you to taste your own creation.

His tongue tasted sweet, like cantaloupe juice, and you wondered if that’s what it really tasted like. Neil pulled back and smirked at you, his fingers still working you into a frenzy.

“Tastes good right? Tastes so fucking good.” He moaned and finally couldn’t take it anymore. Without even consoling you, he yanked at the hem of your pants and underwear, shoving them down your thighs and passed your ankles.

You clung to yourself now, not entirely used to your post pregnancy body being put on display. Neither of you has made love quite like this in a while.

“Fuck baby,” the words slipped right off his tongue like melted butter. He pried your arms back and hungrily kissed at your chest, slowly making his way down.

His movements were quick and passionate, diving into your body like a sweet dessert. He kissed down your stomach, leaving a trail of spit behind, stopping close to your abdomen and just loving the feeling of your bush rubbing against his chin.

“You just taste so good— I can’t help myself.” He mouthed at your supple skin. His hands still trailing behind him, groping and fondling at every inch of your skin.

“I needed this. I needed this so bad baby, you have no idea.” He whined and his lips trailed over your inner thighs. He wanted to take his time with you, to make you feel good, and he would even as his own erection was pressing harshly against his jeans.

He latched his mouth to your dripping cunt, the warm, wet heat calling out to him, begging to be licked clean.

He did just that, filling the room with lewd slurping sounds as a mix of your moans blended together perfectly. You almost forgot about the sleeping baby in the other room.

“Neil, the baby is sleeping, w-we have to be quiet.” You warned in between a gasp, his mouth mercilessly working you into a mind-bending orgasm.

He sucked especially hard and pulled off, making you clutch the sheets for dear life.

“Yeah?” He whispered to you, his voice low and raspy. Even in the dimming light of the room, as the sun started to settle; you could see him. His lips and chin were slick with your juices. It was like a scene straight out of a porno—a good porno, of course.

You nodded at him and swallowed hard, he wasn’t asking for clarification, he was challenging you.

“Well then we better be quiet, right?” He teased and you nodded again.

His hand gripped your breast and tweaked the nipple, little teardrops of milk spilling out onto his fingers. You winced slightly at the manhandling but let him continue.

“Here, try some.” He said, collecting some of it and shoving his fingers into your mouth. Just when you started to suck them clean, he slipped two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and moan loudly around his digits.

“That’s right, Mommy can take it. Mommy can take it real good.” He praised you and moved both sets of fingers in sync. You clenched around him hard when his thumb swiped up at your already aroused clit. Slow and steady at first but picking up speed quickly.

You mouthed obscenities around him as he continued finger fucking you and he just took it all in. Biting his bottom lip, he was at the precipice of his own desire. The fact that he could do this to you, the fact that he could drive you crazy like this.. it was his only purpose.

Neil became uncomfortably aware of how much clothes he had on shortly after and pulled away just long enough to slip himself free of his confines. You laid there, trying to catch your breath and trying to stop your legs from shaking.

You watched him flip back the buckle of his belt and yank down his trousers and underwear in one swift move.

You stared at his erection, making mental note that the tip was slick with precum, it made your cunt ache more than it’s ever before.

You reached for him in desperation and he met you halfway. Neil pulled himself on top of you and feverishly ground himself against you.

Slipping his cock between your folds, right against your clit and using your own arousal as his lubrication. He bucked into you, a deep growl escaping his lips with each thrust upward.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about this all week..” He confessed with his eyes closed.

“Every time I watch you put the dishes away or bend over to pick something up—“ he slid his cock roughly against your clit once again.

“—all I could think about was fucking you right then and there.” you mewled at his confession though you already knew he wanted to.

“I just want to fuck you over every countertop, rip your fucking clothes off of you and fill that pretty pussy of yours.” This desperate act of him humping against you was pushing you close to the edge, as pathetic as it was to admit. Again, it’s been a long three months.

“Can you imagine that? Us having another baby, your belly all big again—and god those milky tits getting bigger than ever.” He fondled at your breasts, making more warm milk leak from them.

His depraved words only brought both of you closer to the edge. You knew he wouldn’t finish this way, he liked it inside.

You moaned and arched your back with each drag of his cock down your sensitive bud, each movement only producing more and more lubrication.

Your fingers made lines of red down his back as you clawed. Each heave of your chests making the room grow stuffier and stuffier.

“Can you imagine that baby? Tell me how badly you want it.” Neil urged, his hips slowing down, adding more pressure every time he moved towards you.

“Y-Yes..” you said weakly. You were completely loss for words, you had no idea he was so into that. “I can—I can imagine that.” You croaked, which only made a wicked smirk form on his face.

“Just look you, poor thing hasn’t been properly fucked in months. Hasn’t had Daddy’s cock to come all over.” His words basically made your eyes roll to the back of your head. His never-ending teasing making your pussy twitch and physically yearn for him.

Neil felt it, oh he felt it alright and it only drove him more mad. “Ooh you like that don’t you? Why don’t you come like this. Come on, come for me.”

You went to object, opening your mouth to beg him not to make you come like this; like you were some horny teenager rubbing herself off on her pillow, it felt dirty and depraved—which you were by all means— but you wanted more, you wanted to feel him.

Neil stopped you, “No whining, just do it.” He insisted and you could barely contain the high pitched whimper that left your lips as your cavern squeezed around itself, desperate for something to latch onto as wave after wave hit your body over and over again.

You threw your head back and about halfway through your orgasm you remembered the importance of staying quiet.

Neil kept on rubbing his perpetually leaking cock up and down your clit till your thighs twitched and you became desperate to get away.

Now that your opening was slick and so beyond ready, he slowly slid in. Inch by inch, he filled your sensitive cunt. He relished in the feeling, the grip tight and still fluttering from your orgasm.

“Neil!” You gasped, not expecting the burn from the stretch that met you. It hurt, which was to be expected but this felt different compared to what you were used to. It felt like he was tunneling a hole into you. Splitting you but also igniting you in the best way possible.

“Fuuuck…” he drawled out, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked himself slowly in and out, over and over again.

Neil knelt over you, his elbows slotted on each side of your head. He leaned in so his lips were just grazing yours, his tongue slipping out to swipe at your parted lips.

“Fuck, I’ve missed this—you have no idea how much I’ve missed this.” He said, emphasizing his words with deeper thrusts. “How much I missed you.”

You felt your ears grow hot as your arousal bubbled up again. It was a heat that was so indescribable and so delicious it made your mouth water. You nodded, your chest rising and falling, labored breaths leaving you.

Neil fell into a slow and brutal pace. You could feel every inch of him, every curve and vein as he fucked you into oblivion. The speed only made your head spin and you found yourself digging lines down his back once more.

“Oh my god, baby. You know how I love it when you do that.�� He moaned for you, slotting his head in between your shoulder.

Each word made you wetter and wetter. Soon enough the whole room was filled with soft squelching noises. It only seemed to spur Neil on because in seconds he pulled back, sitting back on his knees and gripped your hips for support as he looked down at you.

“I could come right now.” He said, his glazed eyes roaming over your body. He watched the way his thrusts made your breasts move, watching them jiggle as little droplets dribbled down the curve of them and onto the sheets.

“I could fill you up so good, have you walking around the rest of the day with my come leaking out of you… but I can’t.” He resigned with a sigh and angled his hips slightly upwards before slamming into you full force.

The wind was knocked out of you instantly. Gasping and trying desperately to ground yourself you clawed at the sheets, inevitably pulling them loose from the tucked corners of the bed.

He was fucking you so hard you could hear the loose screw in the frame rattling with each thrust inward.

“Neil please!” You begged but you weren’t even sure for what. For him to slow down? For him to stop? Oh no, no, no—that just wouldn’t do.

“I can’t baby, not when I need to feel you come all over me. Need to see that pretty little face as I—“ He gripped at your cheeks for emphasis, making your jaw hang open and your lips pouty. He leaned over just enough to spit into your gaping mouth and moved your jaw closed so you would swallow it.

“—fuck you into this mattress.” He finished. You felt your chest tighten, all the muscles in your thighs and stomach seizing for a moment as another wave of ecstasy hit you.

His filthy words filled your ears like angels singing and you nodded along, your body already climbing to your next orgasm.

You would do anything he said in this moment as long as he kept doing what he was doing. If he wanted another baby—fine. If he wanted you to scale the Empire State Building—that’s fine too.

You felt pressure building up, like weights were being placed against the bundle of nerves inside of you. You knew you could come like this if he kept up his brutal pace but you needed more and well—Neil had no problem delivering.

He moved your legs so they now rested against his shoulders and leaned forward. He went impossibly deep and both of you let out an animalistic moan.

He sped up quick, sounds of his thighs slapping against yours echoing off the walls. He reached for your hand that was bunched in the messy sheets and placed it between your thighs.

“Touch yourself for me.” He ordered and you didn’t hesitate.

You brought two fingers down and started rubbing in rhythmic circles making the deepest parts inside your pussy start to twitch. Neil’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his mouth hanging open as you watched him tremble at the feeling of you—at the sight of you.

You were so clearly everything to him, and having you like this—your knees to your chest, split open and fucking writhing underneath him.. He’d call it heaven—scratch that—better than heaven.

“I-I’m close.” You choked out, your voice growing higher in pitch as he continued pounding his cock deeper and deeper into you.

Neil’s eyes returned to you, meeting your lust filled gaze before latching his lips down onto your nipple and starting to suck again.

It felt like he was dragging every ounce of energy out of you. Purely sucking the soul out of you.

You brought your free hand up to his hair, latching on and gripping so hard onto his locks you thought you’d rip them out.

“Neil, Neil, neil…” You chanted his name. The bed shook with you both, squeaks and rattling, the sound of flesh meeting flesh. It was too good. Too raw. And there was little to no care in keeping quiet anymore.

“Yeah baby, keep saying my name. Let everyone know who fucks you this good.” Neil purred, removing himself long enough from your tits to speak and then immediately returning back to suck them dry.

“Fuck!” You gasped one last time as you clamped down on him. Everything tensed for a long minute and you swore you blacked out. A soft ringing filled your ears, toes curling beside his ear, thighs trembling.

Neil moaned loudly, his mouth full and vibrating around your sore and hardened nipples. There was pain and pleasure mixing like a lethal cocktail, making you spill all around him.

The base of his cock grew sticky and the wet sounds only amplified. His thrusts grew erratic but never lost their strength.

You watched Neil detach from your nipple long enough to see the milky liquid stain his lips. He gaped at you, mouth hanging open and breathing heavy. Hunger. Deep and vicious in his eyes.

“Tell me you want another baby.” He said in a strained low voice.

“Tell me how bad you want it.” He ordered. You were surprised he still had the strength to tease you, to make you beg.

“I want it.” You said without hesitating. He was still fucking you through your sensitivity which was starting to make you squirm but he liked it that way.

“Say it again.” He demanded with desperation.

“I want a-another baby Neil.” You could barely get out as he slammed particularly hard into you.

“More.” He all but growled. You could tell he was there, right on the tipping age. He was always more.. demanding when he was close.

“I-I want another baby. Fuck—I love you so much, I’d do anything for you.” The words spilled from your lips without even thinking.

It was a drop of tenderness in an act that would surely get you both sent to hell if you weren’t already married. But it buried Neil, hammering in the last nail towards completion.

Neil stilled for a moment, his full body weight pressing down on you as his thighs shook against yours.

He gaped for a second, the room falling eerily quiet as his orgasm sucked the air out of him. He gasped loudly, “Fuuuck..” drawled from his throat.

You felt him flex inside you over and over again, the head of his member hitting your sweet spot every time a hot gushing dose of come spilled from it.

His hands gripped the back of your knees for support as he pumped the last bit of it deep inside of you.

You tried to catch your breath but under the weight of him, it was proving to be difficult. Before you could say anything though, Neil pushed his lips to yours.

Lazy, sweet and all tongue. He lapped at your lips and then pressed his tongue to the back of your teeth. You hummed into the kiss, pulling him in deeper by the back of his head.

You both laid there for a moment, lip locked and absolutely wrecked. You pulled away just to tell him that he was starting to crush you, but of course, just a second later you heard the crackles of the baby monitor next to you, and soon enough the baby’s cries could be heard.

Neil smiled down at you, that same goofy smile that had you hooked from day one. “I’ll get him, you stay here and rest up.” He said already pulling away and out of you.

“You deserve it.” He added, placing one last kiss upon your nose and turning towards the closet to pull out some fresh clothes.

You deserve it.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

Vesuvia Weekly: One More Dance Before Bed

~ a short Julian x reader drabble for @vesuviaweekly's "Tired Dancing" prompt! ~

"Aaand step, step, slide, now cross under - other direction, my dear - yes, under my arm, just like that - and twirl - ACK!"

You jump back, startled when your flying elbow lands square across his ribs. Julian folds with an impressed (and slightly pained) wheeze.

"Very - hah - strong arm you've got there."

"I'm so sorry, Julian, I didn't mean to."

"Please," he straightens with a wink, "hit me harder next time."

You glance at the bags under his eyes in concern. Another look at the clock on the wall tells you it's coming up on 1 AM, and you have an early start tomorrow.

"Still," you pause to yawn, "I really didn't mean to - I think I'm less coordinated when I'm tired. I'm sorry."

"Tired?" He's one to talk, all floppy curls and bloodshot eyes and coffee-induced jitters. "Why would you be - oh gods, is that the time?!" He eyes the clock in alarm and promptly initiates his Sleep-Deprived Self-Loathing Spiral. "How could I - I've been so selfish - I'm so sorry -"

You catch his flailing hands and, with a smile, start to tug his gloves off and lead him towards the bedroom. "Don't be. I like learning your Nevivon dances."

"But -"

You yawn again, stumbling forward into his chest as he sputters.

"If you want to make it up to me, you could come to bed so we have energy to practice more tomorrow on the boat."

"Ahaha - er - that is, I was going to stay up and pack our bags tonight, to save you some worry in the morning."

You groan into his shirt. "Pack in the morning. Sleep now." Another idea makes its way into your half-asleep mind and you glance up at him with a sleepy smirk. "Or do I have to dance you into bed?"

That warm, fond twinkle reappears in his grey eyes, his brows smoothing out as he gazes down at you contentedly. "One more dance before tomorrow, then."

[leclerc-s]

she's married you idiots!

series masterlist

isabella perez mae, i wasn't aware you and max had gotten a divorce and you were now dating barry keoghan.

mae jones-verstappen oh my god who started it this time??

oscar piastri tmz

zoya torres and fans are definitely helping troll the others who think mae is dating barry.

max jones-verstappen why are they calling him bath water guy and grave guy??

oscar piastri as someone who watched the movie with his girlfriend for the "vine" trust me when i say you don't want to know.

lando norris you do not want to watch that movie, trust me.

isabella perez so that's a negative on you and barry?

max jones-verstappen i hope you get fired. mae jones-verstappen we had dinner, as friends, a while back, but max was with us. which is something tmz kindly left out.

logan sargeant i fucking hate tmz

arthur leclerc is this because they said zoya was dating louis? logan sargeant shut the fuck up?

pierre gasly i think charles is the only one who is safe from dating rumors.

natalia ruiz because the people love him and the italians lose their shit anytime someone implies charles is dating someone.

charles leclerc and they send natalia many dms asking her if we're over so that they can make a move on me.

arthur leclerc i am safe too.

dulce perez up until three months ago, everyone thought i was dating robert. not you. trust me, you are not safe.

rhys jones this? again?

sebastian vettel next they'll be saying max is dating daniel, again.

fernando alonso when did they ever stop saying that?

daniel jones-ricciardo he's my platonic soulmate! max jones-verstappen we're lovers but our wives don't know it yet. daphne jones-ricciardo i was under the assumption that my husband was in a secret love affair with ryan and that max was engaging in an affair with charles?

lewis hamilton a bunch of children, all of you.

fernando alonso starting with me, you, and seb. as the oldest we set the examples. sebastian vettel they learned from us lewis.

lewis hamilton i'm nowhere near as dramatic as you two!

rhys jones "well we're not friends." isabella perez "and teammate" george russell "taken out by my own teammate" lewis hamilton ALRIGHT I GET IT!

maejonesverstappen and maxjonesverstappen1 have posted new stories

i don't know about anyone else, but i spent valentine's day with my husband

ik houd van je

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie @lorarri @mypage-myfandoms @bb-swift @thewannabewriter @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @stopeatread @hobiismyhopeu @lilsiz @alessioayla @niniluvsainz @au-ghosttype @cowboylikemets1989 @justtprachisblog @rmeddar123 @nichmeddar @landonorizzz @unluckyyoshi @Mimolovescookies @brekkers-whore @natcha888 @camdensreg @mycenterfold @dear-fifi @prongsvault @kaa212 @anxxiousaries @julesbabey1 @julesbabey @georgeparisole @Smnthnclj @dan3avocado @melissayalene @nothanqks @nikfigueiredo @bella-1 @namgification @jensonsonlybutton @chezmardybum @d3kstar @weekendlusting @anytimeanywherebitchblog @ragioniera @burberryfilms @trouble-sistar @lesliiieeeee @leclercsluv @33-81 @theseus-jpg @lorenaskaspersen @sarah-thatstings-ann @My-fangirling-outlet

strikethrough means i couldn't tag you

click here to be added to the honest series taglist

¡leclerc-s speaks! anyways, back to our regularly scheduled programing, not that i have a posting schedule, but i figured, you know i gave daniel and daphne two parts about relationship rumors why not give mae and max one. this is a product of that. honestly some of my best work comes when i am sleep deprived because insomnia is a bitch, this was written yesterday. is there anyone you guys would like to write relationship rumors about??

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[hollandroos]

Liar / Spencer Reid

Paring: Spencer Reid X Reader Insert

Words: 900

Warnings: Angst Angst Angst. No happy ending

A/N: Now I know what you're all thinking.... Soph, since when do you write for criminal minds? well.... what do you think I watched religiously during my very painful pregnancy and the last five months post partum?

Your packed bags fell against the door to what was once your shared home. Now it just felt empty. Empty draws, followed by an empty bathroom cabinet that once contained items that were now packed away tightly in a suitcase. Followed by an empty bedside table, and an empty mug cupboard because you bought every single one of those prized mugs - and you’d be damned if he expected you just to leave them behind. 

Spencer stood before you, eye bags partnered by the suit he must’ve worn home on the jet - the same one he left in three days ago. The same one you had ironed just five days ago, and snuck a loving note in the front pocket. You wondered if he got it. If he had, he hadn’t mentioned it. 

Be safe, I love you. Please eat. 

You’d thought it’d be cute if you sprayed the paper with a spritz of one of your perfumes… the one he used to compliment you on every time you wore it. Somewhere down the line he must’ve grown tired of it. He’d stopped complimenting your perfume long ago.

Come to think of it, he hadn't complimented anything about you in a long while. You merely felt like a side gig in Spencer Reid's busy, ever chaotic life.

“What are you doing?” He asks softly. His eyes rack your bags before landing on your tear stricken face.

You swallow, however the lump in the back of your throat refuses to budge. 

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

“It looks like you’re leaving me.”

Spencer shoves his hands into his pant pockets, gripping tightly onto an old lip balm and a foreign hair tie. He looks exhausted. You want to crawl into his arms and beg him to get some well deserved rest. Rest that you needed too. God you needed rest.

“Spenc-”

“And considering it’s just gone two am, I’d assume you were trying to slip out before I got home because you couldn’t tell me yourself.”

“You’d assume correctly.” You straighten out, feeling your eyes well up with tears that were so goddamn close to spilling over. “I’m sorry.”

Maybe if you cried he’d beg you to stay, promise to fix it and try harder. You imagine he’d beg you to crawl into bed with him and sort it out tomorrow when you both weren’t so sleep deprived. You’d both shimmy under the covers and get that sleep in you’d been craving. The reality is however, you’d probably wake up and the space next to you would be cold again. And you’d be alone once more. 

Truth be told you didn’t sleep very much while Spencer was away. Your bed felt so much colder, and the genius wasn’t all that good at using his phone so you’d wait and wait for a text from him, just to let you know that he’s okay and before you knew it the sun would be coming up and your phone hadn’t pinged once.

You wondered how often you crossed the man's mind while he was away, because he crossed yours plenty. It seemed as though you were a foreign thought. 

“Are you?” He raised a brow, not much emotion crossing the man's face. It made your blood boil, because if he did love you as much as he once claimed he wasn’t very good at showing it.

You tried to remember when you first noticed his love for you fizzle out. Maybe it was when he stopped opening doors for you first, or complimenting your new outfits. Maybe it was when he started to sneak out of bed in the morning without giving you a kiss and a feeble I love you. Or when rereading the books he’d already ingrained into his memory became more enticing then a shower with you. 

Despite this, you never stopped your attempts at sharing your love with him. Dear god - you had so much of it to give, and he had been at the receiving end of it all. 

“Are you sorry?” You spit back, definitely harsher then you had intended. 

“Am I sorry?” He questioned, seeming awfully confused about the whole ordeal. If he wasn’t confused then he was just acting dumb. “Why would I - You’re the one trying to leave me in the middle of the night, why should I be sorry?”

“When did you stop loving me?”     

Spencers poker face finally breaks, however instead of breaking into a look of sadness, remorse, or anything of the sort it’s just confusion.

“I never stopped-”

“You’re not a liar, Spence, don’t start now.” 

With a heavy heart, tears now spilling freely down already damp cheeks and tight fists you grip the suitcase handles and haul your entire life out the door of your previously shared apartment. 

It’s crazy how you could pack up your entire life into two raggedy old suitcases. 

You wondered if it’d break Spencer's heart to find little pieces of you around the apartment - pieces that hadn’t been important enough to take with you. If maybe he’d cry when taking down photos of the two of you or miss your presence in your designated barstool at breakfast.

Tonight, Spencer would be the one sleeping in that cold, lonesome bed down the hall, while you cuddled up in some overpriced hotel sheets feeling heartbroken, yet equally proud for finally allowing yourself to walk away.

[simplytheromanticistdoris]

Achilles And Patroclus: Love Between Ashes and Bones; Gods Folly and Quirks (a ballad)

Achilles to Patroclus

I could never be without you, my love, for you are the river I follow, afloat my body venture to you. The black silk of your hair under the doting of mine, your lips amiable to meet mine, and your eyes that see through the depths of my soul, it frets not but outshines.

I, a demi-god am bound to bask in the golden banquet of the gods, but I turn away and decline, for heaven is at dawn at hell, oh, you shall squirm at my touch as I sip the sweet nectar of your dew drop tears, from my folly unashamed tricks.

Let us be lost in the greeny valley of trees, and sit upon its shaded seat, secrecy it shall be, as we talk love and our future dreams, draped in dirt your tunic will be, drenched in life we smell of it, oh, dear, you’re a soul meek and the sweet scent of simplicity;

I find upon you the strength of a measly bird, but within you; the will to change it all. How does it feel to be my soul? To have my heart taken into the depths of the earth? How does it feel to steal my future and all?

I love you, I say, but my pride begs that I stay, it was a mistake, and now, you lay there pierced by the adversary of my fate, oh, the river flowed no more and life tasted like salt, the underworld claimed your soul and I shall follow.

Demise meets the man who claimed your life, his head touring around our great walls, and lamenting upon is all I could do as you smelled like the night of deathly sorts, and, oh, how does it feel to kill me, my love?

My life meets its due and I smelled you; will you greet me with a smile under the ash of this fight? Blood trickles down and my breath pulls out, oh, may my body be burned and reunite with you.

Erebus receives me as the swift-footed fool, for I am no different from the flesh of my kind, just a man, in love. My gaze wonders to find your soul but to no avail, I’m met with void, in between the borders you must be there;

Even death cannot possibly dare, to deprive me of the utmost source why my life is spared. The seasons passed and sang bitter-sweet songs, I waited like a rock devoid of soul, why must fate be so cruel?

Deep is my blue a feeling struck, before me the kindest man stood, silly he looked and confused at most, ah, you fatuous man you made me wait, now come lavish at my embrace!

“What more do I need but for the sole reason that I live and die, oh, my dear Patroclus, my Patroclus.”

Patroclus to Achilles

Golden locks of silk rests on my thighs, as he the fair youth plays on his lyre, his battle-carved fingers strum not the lyre, but my stringed life, for now, I am a piece, a symphony from his musical pile.

He is divine, his radiant hair golden amongst the light, and, oh, his lips lush and plump like life, and across his eyes the kind blue ocean opposed to his mother’s icy guile eyes, that dares choke me with vile.

You're a being dipped from Styx, the strength of hundredths of men but in one shell that represents all fiery admirable might to fend, but what of you my love, when your fate weighs too much upon your life to go on?

You are half of my soul as the poets say, your star dipped next to mine and I shall stay, oh, the onerous fate you weigh I will bear, for you are everything to me and I fear to see you in dismay, I love you wouldn’t you say?

The god they presume you to be, but all I see is a man I can’t let be, under the cosmos we gaze, draped in love we kissed ablaze, no sole rock will break us away, you tasted like everything but the future that has no place.

Wreath my heart to decay, split me in half to see blood spray, but none you get for he is the vitality in my veins, a kind fool lacking wits and trusts guile prompts, but I am half what he is not and I protect our love.

May he bask in the triumph he deserves, and when he tires, we spare some time, and he cuddles in my wing like two peas in a pod as we drift to sleep and dream, and there is a ponder within me that cannot bear to lose this golden-haired man.

I had pleaded with him not to go, but he begged that my life is on the line; a promise to save the dainty fair beauty, oh, we cannot escape our fate, and we march to the relentless eating time, to the Underworld we will bid our time, oh, Achilles, I wished we’ll be fine.

Swift-footed he is in battle and I watch awe in afar, I fear he’ll meet the man that’ll splat blood on his golden locks, please hurry under my touch and assure me sweet love along this bloody path of war.

Across this ghastly war and ruffian rule of men, there lies you dancing among the wolves and hooded sheep we called friends, they wait for you to die but like a god you prevailed, the wind uttered favor, oh, you couldn’t possibly look more graceful the hero of this battle.

But alas akin to you a thing named pride, it rivaled my full pledged love and I lost to its qualms, and you bade war alone to suffer whose won, but the tide had turned and we pace aback, oh, we’re shunned, many have died under the roots of your pride, but we shall settle this to save our might.

I implore authority from your side, let me wear your scent and go about to fight, I’ll save your pride and the souls that are deprived, enemies wait no more and I shall take flight; you bid me good luck and a good kiss goodbye;

I promise my love I will come back, and we shall run with our heels and talk about life, I shall watch you spar and admire; your bodily move like the ocean tide, your voice is like a coir that replenishes me anew to a queer kind of guy.

I wear your pride soon a cascade of a fallen might, I aim your spear and a swain dies, and another kind, momentarily, I thought I was the preordained man with his swift-footed pride, I miss you then like I was to die.

To be the worthy facsimile of my man, I have uttered his sprightly livened trance and led the homely stricken souls; I say we go home and make about our humble abode.

I revel at the thought of dragging Helen out from the hen of our foes, she, that is the beauty, the root of all these woes will bring about peace and we go home, my Achilles and I snuggled in heavenly prose.

Serendipity reeled within my thoughts, unbeknownst a spear pierced my heart, what of the love we’re bound to make? What of Achilles the one man I’m willing to risk it all? Is he not to die too, by the hands that doomed my soul?

In between the borders I stay afloat, I have mingled with the winds and drifted from face to face to see delight and faze, but what prevailed was my man fallen out of grace, wherefore the Achilles with brimming pride? Oh, but how you cared more when I was dead.

Achilles, oh, Achilles he wails over a shell of no soul but a fractured man, I lament with him for he has died too, haughtily I dare not but I fear his life is almost due, slowly he drifts to a path divulge from the kind in himself.

I left you not in your grieving soul, I smothered you with love in your midnight woes, and I have bore witness to the wreath in your soul and how you bend to break it all, and apathy I have come to hate in your eyes as the head of Hector rolls like dice.

Soon enough you meet demise, and our ashes reunite but strangely naught I feel but your distant soul away from mine, impediment howls, and how your son is vile, now our roads diverge ever to reunite.

Upon your tomb there carved your name, besides I sit like a widow bae and I await, then your mother came, oh, she longed for you but she remembers little to faint, but this I say your son is great, I am the memory to deliver the beauty we have come to make, with the vicissitudes of our fate.

The song of Achilles sang to pave the way.

‘It is done’ your mother says, becoming kind so to say, besides your name a carve that says; Patroclus, and my mouth is agape, this means one thing and I’ll see your face; under the roots of the mead of green I’m new to this dreary scene;

Two arms reach a radiant light to grab me tight and reunite.

“Achilles, oh, Achilles my one and only life, the love I have for you triumphs over those who dare to ruin the heavenly love, we spare against the march of our fate and the relentless time, for you are the four seasons I have come to love but like the pristine calm of the sea, we come adrift and die, for we have now bade life goodbye.”

[superiorgoobus]

Batfam as shit my friends say/do

Tim: if I was running on ice, I'd wear grippy socks

Jason: yeah it would make sense that you have grippy socks

Tim: .... fuck you

-

Jason: *trying to send a text* goddamn I can't type shit, my fingers are so cold

Steph: sounds like a you problem bud

Jason: it's gonna be a you problem when I throw your ass in a snowbank

-

Dick: haha that looks like a dildo

Duke: must you say that about every cylindrical rubber object you see?

Dick: yes.

-

Steph: hey, did I mention I hate that guy?

Cass: only fifteen times today.

-

Tim, sleep deprived: it would appear as though I have holes in my pants.

Damian: tt. those are ripped jeans. You bought them that way.

-

Dick: that guys phone is really long... and thin... just like a penis...

Duke: I am going to end you.

-

Harper: *at a Gotham knights game* IM BLIND! IM DEAF! I WANNA BE A REF!

-

Jason: I still can't fucking type...

Steph: you know what that is?

Jason: if you say-

Steph: that's a you problem bud

Jason: every time you say that it makes me more and more pissed off.

Steph: if it makes you feel better, I once said that to a guy who said if I broke up with him he's kill himself. I also told him I didn't give a shit if he died.

Jason: that is hilarious.

-

Bruce: dear god I don't want to go outside.

Clark: we're at a hockey game. You had to go outside to get here.

Bruce: well I don't want to do it again.

-

Steph: I can't believe it's -25 out, and some people showed up to class wearing just sweatshirt and jeans. This is Gotham University, no one thinks you're cool, just a dumbass.

-

Tim: *starts an argument with Kon over yikyak despite the fact they're sitting on the same couch*

-

Steph: so then my girlfriend at the time said-

Tim: you know, I probably wouldn't have hooked up with you if I knew you were a lesbian.

Steph: ... I'm not a lesbian. I'm bisexual.

Tim: oh.

-

Damian: where is my knife... I can't find my knife...

Dick: you know scissors would be way more affective for what you're trying to do, right?

Damian: yes but for aesthetic purposes I want to use a knife.

-

Tim: *mixing an alcoholic drink with blue in it*

Bernard: damn, Tim trynna kill with windex over here

-

Dick: I can't believe no one told me there was a new season of Letterkenny out!!!

Jason: hey guess what?

Dick: what

Jason: there's a new season of letterkenny out

Dick: fuck you

-

Steph: hey, zip tie my hands so I can try to get out.

Cass: no, why would I-

Harper: oh fuck yeah

Steph: *cuts her hand trying to escape the zip ties* oh, dude, look! Now I look cool!

-

Cass: *is wearing a sport bra while exercising*

Steph: Cass!!! Stop being naked every time I see you!!

Cass: ???

-

Tim: *sends Bernard a Snapchat using the peach emoji filter*

Bernard: oh my god... the booty emoji...

-

Kate: *has a sign on her office wall that says "all things are possible through sarcasm and profanity." *

-

Tim: *snaps Steph a picture of a drink with an ingredient he's allergic to in it* the urge to drink this to see if it kills me it outrageous

-

Jason: would you like a cake pop?

Damian: a cake... a what?

Jason: a cake pop?

Damian: what on earth is a cake pop?

Jason: DICK NEVER BOUGHT YOU A CAKEPOP? We are resolving this problem today. Get in the Batmobile, we're going to Starbucks and buying you a dozen cake pops.

Damian: you still haven't told me what a cake pop is.

Jason: imagine a lollipop, but cake. And spherical.

Damian: spherical cake?

Jason: yes, spherical cake.

Damian: ... how...

Jason: get your ass in the car and I'll show you how.

[ninadove]

Nina reads Dracula 🦇

October 2nd

Mr. Renfield asked if he might see me. Poor man, he was very gentle, and when I came away he kissed my hand and bade God bless me. Some way it affected me much; I am crying when I think of him. This is a new weakness, of which I must be careful.

You are also a new weakness of his, beloved 🥺

I hope I have not done wrong, for as sleep begins to flirt with me, a new fear comes: that I may have been foolish in thus depriving myself of the power of waking.

I could not tell the others of the day's discovery till we were alone; so after dinner—followed by a little music to save appearances even amongst ourselves—I took Mina to her room and left her to go to bed. The dear girl was more affectionate with me than ever, and clung to me as though she would detain me; but there was much to be talked of and I came away. Thank God, the ceasing of telling things has made no difference between us.

Jonathaaan do something Jonathaaaaan

We all sat silent awhile and all at once Mr. Morris spoke:—

"Say! how are we going to get into that house?"

"We got into the other," answered Lord Godalming quickly.

"But, Art, this is different. We broke house at Carfax, but we had night and a walled park to protect us. It will be a mighty different thing to commit burglary in Piccadilly, either by day or night. I confess I don't see how we are going to get in unless that agency duck can find us a key of some sort; perhaps we shall know when you get his letter in the morning."

Quincey continues to be the brains of the operation (in Mina’s absence)

I am very sleepy and shall go to bed....

Just a line. Mina sleeps soundly and her breathing is regular. Her forehead is puckered up into little wrinkles, as though she thinks even in her sleep. She is still too pale, but does not look so haggard as she did this morning. To-morrow will, I hope, mend all this; she will be herself at home in Exeter. Oh, but I am sleepy!

Normal sleepy or laudanum sleepy? Because we’ve eatablished that this structure is bad news…

Meanwhile Jack is doing splendidly:

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

And so is Renfield —

The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield had somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell; and when he went to him found him lying on his face on the floor, all covered with blood. I must go at once....

< Prev 🦇 Prev >

[corpsebasil]

I'm sorry but knight! Nikolaï got me hORNY—

So just think about it: like, kinda a corruption kink but the other way around? The Princess being very, VERY MUCH INTO HIM and being like "damn Imma bang that man"

And Knight Nikolaï being loyal to his duties so he's trying to not understand or see her advances, but god damn his patience and will to stay professional are wearing thin just like the clothes of the princess seems to gradually become around him uhuh

ARGBLBLBLB HAND ME THE HOLY WATER RIGHT NOW

Dear mother above—

^^^ me and you walking to his room.

Sir Nikolai isn’t a man that is unused to being fawned over. Women and men alike—nobles, citizens, who gives a shit—all want him. The man is literally sex on legs just LOOK at him. LORD.

The one person he’s surprised to find attracted to him, though, is you. Your royal highness. Aka the princess of Ravka and his personal charge. He takes his role of protecting you extremely seriously. He does a security sweep practically every time you enter a room. He keeps his eye out for any possible threats, always a step behind you. Always.

Yes he finds you pretty—who doesn’t—but the idea of sleeping with you goes against every moral fiber of his being.

It starts small when you realize you aren’t going to get your way with him at first.

DRABBLE UNDER THE CUUUUT

Oh god he’s so beautiful anyways—

“Sir Nikolai.”

“Princess.”

You’re watching him from one of the chairs in your sitting-room as he works, sorting through some documents as you’re supposed to be reading. You literally cannot focus.

The rustling of papers and the occasional shift of his body in his chair are the only sounds occupying your rooms as of now and, to your chagrin, you can’t stop staring at his hands. The way his fingers run over the documents, the way he licks his thumb quickly to flip a page, good God.

“I can feel you staring.” He says, not even sparing you a glance as he works. You scowl.

“I am not.”

He raises one eyebrow and you slump lower in your seat, face hot.

You’ve had a crush on your personal guard since pretty much forever and you know that he knows. He finds it entertaining to tease you sometimes; he’ll find excuses to help fix your hair, he holds your hand a bit longer than necessary when escorting you out of a carriage, and he especially enjoys the look on your face when you see him flirting with other women of the court.

I picture his grin like this.

Also Elliot Knight is fucking gorgeous.

He just smiles at you from across the room and goes straight back into his conversation.

You know from gossip around the court that he’s an absolute god in bed. The maids—those damn gossips—all giggle and blush as they whisper about a night with him or someone they know, their voices not quiet enough to stop you from picking up a few details while they clean.

You want him. You want him so bad it makes you look STUPID.

If you’re going to get this man on top of under, behind, down low, up high, all the positions you then you’re going to have to start being a little bolder, sweetheart. You start small: staring more openly and forcing yourself not to look away when caught. Brushing against him when you walk by just to have an excuse to be close to him. Making comments out of the blue about how you’re just so bored and touch deprived.

Poor you.

He catches on instantly.

“Princess.” He starts one evening, watching you as you approach him clad in one of your adorable nightgowns that leave nothing to the imagination. Picture Aelin’s gold nightgown, HA. His teeth are grit so tightly that he can actually feel his jaw hurt as you walk by. “Where is your robe.”

Not a question. He knows exactly where your robe is because you left it on his bed after sneaking quickly through the shared door in your chambers. He’d made the mistake of telling you he’d be right back and you took your chance. You’d be giggling like a fiend when he knocked just now, eyes dark and expression unamused.

He didn’t bring the robe, though. Oddly enough.

“It’s too hot for a robe right now.” You lie, ignoring his annoyed stare as you pour yourself a glass of bourbon from a decanter. “Besides, this dress is new. Don’t you like it?”

“You forgot the rest of it.”

“This is the newest style!” You argue, grinning to yourself as you feel him watch your back. The material is thin as hell and Saints you look fucking magical in it.

Meanwhile Nikolai, behind you, is feeling warmer and warmer the longer you fix yourself a drink. His eyes roam across your bare skin, his blood burning in his veins as he watches the slight sway of your hips. He can imagine running his hands along those long legs of yours, skin soft under his fingers.

How responsive would you be for him? Would you be loud or quiet? Calling out his name or only gasping and whining for him? Would you let him kiss your thighs before he buries his mouth between your legs? Would you let him bend you over his desk or set you on top of it?

Lord have mercy—

He licks his lips thoughtfully as he continues his observations. Surely you’re taking longer on purpose so that he can stare.

The clink of the glass hitting the counter snaps him from his fantasies before he realizes he’s been caught blatantly checking out your ass with his mouth hanging open a fraction.

Shit.

Your smile is devious and proud when you turn to face him, leaning slightly back against the table to meet his eyes.

“Something wrong, Sir?”

“Princess.” He clears his throat and glances up at the ceiling for a moment. “This isn’t appropriate.”

“I’d hope not.” You snort. You walk towards him and he stays still, every inch of him tense. He doesn’t look away as you tilt your head, chin lifted up to his in offering. He doesn’t take the bait.

“Princess.” He grits out. “Please. Stop.”

“Stop what?”

“You know what.”

“I’m not doing—”

But you shut up when his hand reaches out to snatch your wrist in an iron grip, your fingers hovering barely an inch away from his chest. The gap in his loose shirt reveals smooth, golden skin, your fingertips frozen.

You glance up with a tiny gasp and he’s watching you, his eyes darker and more serious than before.

“I cant let you start anything.” He breathes, hand tightening on your arm. “Not like this. Not with me.”

“Why?” You question, face falling as you look up into his eyes. “Why not?”

“You’re jail bait, kid.”

“What does that mean—”

“Your father would kick my ass if he saw me with you. You know that.” You huff through your nose and attempt to pull away but he holds fast. “Y/N,” he starts and your heart aches. Not ‘Princess’, Y/N. “you have no idea the things I’d do to you.”

You freeze as his head lowers a fraction, nose barely touching yours. Your breaths are unsteady as he tucks your hair behind an ear, hand framing your face.

“You’d never want to leave my bed.” He adds and the ache shoots from your heart to right between your legs. “The things I’ve thought about you.” He closes his eyes and, after a beat, whispers a quiet ‘fuck’ before practically tearing himself away from you.

You don’t even have time to protest before he’s heading back to his rooms and shutting the door behind him.

Ughhh OAJAOSK I NEED HIMMMM

[whyyougottadothatbro]

Butterflies

In honor of Channie’s 12 years worth of hard work and the amazing artist and human that he is, here is a little drabble (that ended up being not so little) for the rightfully acclaimed Mr. Steal Your Girl. hope you like it~

wc: 1.2k

For the 2 chronically sleep deprived gremlins you and Chan were, it really hadn’t taken long for you to become each other’s human melatonin sources. Apart from the fact that no one could actually fix your sleep patterns given that you’d lost track of those long ago, the comfort that came along with the other’s presence was usually more than enough to knock you both out within 15 minutes, record time if you believed Changbin for that one time Chan hadn’t slept proper in 4 days and was snoring his exhaustion away after 10 minutes of cuddling you on the infamous leather couch. Which could explain your current situation, sitting atop your kitchen counter at god knows which hour, but it was certainly past midnight. You know better than to check the time, for it surely will stress you out to see the hours left till you eventually need to start getting ready for work, just hoping the night’s silence can calm you down enough for sleep to take over your body. Chan obviously hadn’t been home yet, he was working on the ‘butterflies’ demo after you had mentioned it in a not so deliberately placed comment about how you’d love to hear the full song. You’d definetly not been able to predict the outcome that was him spending the night till sunrise at the studio trying to finish the song or atleast a complete draft. Not checking the time had also meant for you to not see your phone, which was why you’d missed the text dear boyfriend had sent you half an hour ago, saying he'd be home in a bit.

The sound of the door keypad unlocking meant your boyfriend was finally home, exhausted out of his mind and looking forward to absolutely nothing other than dropping his stuff onto the couch and find you curled up in your bed, to dive under the covers and pull you flush against him to let sleep overtake his body too. What he hadn’t expected was to see you sitting on the kitchen counter, legs crossed as you sip on something from your mug of the cringy but awfully cute couple mug set you owned. He grabs himself a bottle of water from the fridge, unscrewing the cap as he wordlessly makes his way towards you, your legs detangling to hang off the countertop and make space for him to stand in between them, both of you silently sipping on your beverages till you finish yours and wrap your arms around his torso, probably looking like a lovesick puppy but you couldn’t really help it.

“Welcome home, Roo”

“Glad to be back princess, couldn’t sleep again hm?”

You silently nod against his shoulder, crossing your legs behind his, gesture enough to answer a question that had been rhetorical in the first place.

“Which tea was it? Lavender?” he asks as he pulls you closer to him by his gentle hold on your thighs, flush against him. You’d realized eventually that you could never physically be close enough to him, you could always be latched onto him like a koala and still want to be closer, to take in more of his vanilla scent and the faded fragrance of his cologne, just to bask in his existence on a whole.

Subconsciously enough you’d started nuzzling your nose against his neck, pulling him even closer with all your limbs, till his squeaky laugh had pulled you out of your little trance, as your arms loosen enough to let him breathe freely again.

“Could you tell I missed you today?” you look up at him, arms still lazily resting around him.

“Oh, I really couldn’t tell little one, I’m glad you told me. I thought you didn’t miss me at all love.” He spoke with all seriousness as he looked at you curling up against him again, eyes fond as he lets out another chuckle.

“Good. You should know your presence is extremely appreciated at all times” Chris swears he lives for the mumbling mess you become when its past 3 am and you finally get him to yourself because this, nothing in the world could beat this.

“Anyways, now that I presume you’re done talking like an executive, let’s get you to bed, shall we?” he’d already wrapped your legs around his body tight enough, waiting for your approval to take you up and away, when the whiny ‘no’ that escapes your mouth halts his actions.

“Why baby? What’s wrong?”

“thecounteriscoldanditfeelsreallynice”

“come again baby?” he’d clearly heard and understood you but would it really be him if he doesn’t tease you for your antics?

“You heard me I know” you mumbled against his chest again, shoving your face into it like one of those Felix posters he saw at the concert and smushed his face against his friend’s chest in a similar manner.

“Baby it is really late, you need to go sleep hm?”

“You don’t get to say that, you came home late too…”

“I don’t have to be up again for work in almost 3 hours now do I?”

“True. Fine, you win this time”

“Of course I do, now come on, let’s get this koala some sleep should we?” he finally lifts you off the counter, keeping you secure in his hold as all you find yourself capable of doing is nodding against him. He carries you to your bed, clearly showing signs of the tossing and turning he presumed to have happened earlier from the lack of sleep as he lays you down and tucks you in. Your eyes are barely open but you register the lack of warmth immediately, reaching out to make grabby hands as he strips himself of the minimal clothing he had on in the first place, muscle tee and basketball shorts. His eyes crinkle up again, voice serenading as ever, “let me change pretty, I promise I’ll be there in a minute yeah?”. Your hands slump down onto the duvet in defeat as you turn to face his side, patiently awaiting him as he finally slips under the covers. You presume your rightful position with your head against his naked chest, left leg sprawled against him as he hikes it up a little higher, arms wrapped around him as he justifies his title of your personal melatonin, sleep finding you almost immediately.

“I love you so much and you’re the best thing that happened to me and I love you, goodnight” Chan was now an expert when it came to comprehending your sleepy mumbles, and they all warmed his heart up in the best ways possible. He silently presses his cheek against the top of your head, dropping a few kisses against your crown as he feels you returning those with kisses against his chest in your sleepy state, and he suddenly can’t feel any of the day’s exhaustion anymore but only your tender love that surrounds him and wraps him up in a cocoon of warmth and safety. His adrenaline from working hadn’t really worn off yet, so he resorts to humming the melody he was working on earlier, noting it down in his head to show you the finished product later.

Baby you got me feeling butterflies..

 a/n : CHAN PLEASE RELEASE THAT TRACK I BEG YOU I’M LITERALLY AHBDKNKKNKNKJNDDSKDKF

here’s the track for anyone wondering... 

[partiallyderived]

-ˋˏ pens, pop, and potential love interests ˎˊ (kjh)

Summary: You lend the cute guy in class a pen.

Pairing: Kum Junhyeon x GN!Reader

Word Count: 683 words

Warning(s): None.

A/N: My dudes, this is crack. I haven't published anything since 2021 and my writing skills need honing, but enjoy. Also, like many college students, I am sleep deprived. The Pop in the title refers to soda. I'm going to edit this when I'm less sleep deprived. There will be an extended cut.

It begins with Pepsi.

Or, rather, it begins with a pen — a good, well-used Maxwriter in blue, which everyone knows is the best type of pen for taking notes; cheap but not cheap.

When you first meet him, his hair is dyed brown. In the light, it doesn’t look like coffee or strong tea or oak or chestnut; it looks like the toffees of your childhood, the ones your grandparents pressed into your hands with each visit.

His name is Kum Junhyeon — nineteen years old, three months older than you and leagues apart in confidence and popularity; the apple of the seniors’ eyes — and he sits behind you in your nine a.m. Biomolecules lecture. He laughs like a thundercloud and makes jokes that make even the strictest of professors smile, and maybe, just maybe, you are a little infatuated with him.

Because it can’t be anything else when he taps you on the shoulder and you freeze.

Caught like a deer in headlights when all the poor boy wants is a pen because his ran out of ink.

What you remember of the exchange is that you thrust your pencil pouch at him — all six pens, four pencils and two highlighters worth of it. You fumble a little in the middle — the angle is awkward, and the next table is placed just a bit higher than the one in front of it — and he has to grab onto the pouch so it doesn’t spill onto the floor, which means he has to grab onto your hands, which means your hands jolt like a kick-started engine, which means —

“Oh my god I like him?!”

Esha from Psychology, first year like yourself, has no sympathy. She’s taken to your life as if it were a drama made specially for her, and even now, she lounges on her bed like a queen, popping jelly beans into her mouth while you have a fun little breakdown on your side of the room.

“But like,” she says once the jelly beans have run out, “he’s cute, right?”

“The cutest. I hate it. My heart goes all wonky when I’m around him, and he didn’t even give me my pen back.”

//

He’s there early in your next class, dressed in a hoodie and jeans pulled so low that you have to tell yourself to avert your eyes. He looks sheepish.

You slide into the seat beside him instead of the one in front of him. A test of courage, but also because you want your pen back.

He does not have the pen. He lost the pen. He is not sheepish because of the pants; he’s sheepish because he has to tell you he lost your pen.

But Junhyeon is quick to clarify, “But it’s not that I lost it, (Name). More like, I don’t know, someone stole it from me. I swear!”

The story goes that he went to submit his work to the teacher and left the pen in the Biochemistry lab. When he came back five minutes later, the pen was gone.

“It was a good pen! The best pen! I’ve never held a better pen in my life!” Junhyeon tells you, and you believe him, because Maxwriters are good pens. And it’s fine! You can always buy another one, but you really liked that pen.

Rest in Peace, Maxwriter. Sacrificed for some guy. You were a real one.

///

Honestly, you think it’s a forgotten thing. The Professor came in before you could respond, but you had flashed him a thumbs up and gone about your business, and he hadn’t really said anything else during class, so that was that.

And then, in the canteen, when you and Esha have finally managed to get a simultaneous free period, one of the guys from Physics sets a bottle of Pepsi in front of you. Taped to the condensation, barely holding on for dear life like your sanity, is a sticky note that says I’m sorry for losing your pen. :( We should totally go out to buy another pack together - Junhyeon.

Boys are so stupid. He didn’t even write his number down.

Taglist: @daintydongyoung @zerobaseonefics @urielphix @incorrectzbone @i520u