#at least we spent one last night together
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venusvixen20 · 1 day ago
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So random thought.
The Diasomia boys are well boys, and until you join them, they never really knocked before entering someone else bedroom.
Being at the school they started the habit but once back home they quickly forget this.
Malluesxyou, Liliaxyou, Silverxyou, Sebekxyou
Had anyone in this castle/ cottage hear of knocking?!
You joined the Diasomia group for summer vacation and stay at the castle/ cottage.
Despite the cottage's small size you're given a room of own our but it doesn't matter because you don't sleep there most nights.
Had anyone in this castle/ cottage hear of knocking?!
You joined the Diasomia group for summer vacation and stay at the castle/ cottage.
Despite the cottage's small size you're given a room of own our but it doesn't matter because you don't sleep there most nights.
Lilia:
Lilia and you try to sneak around the best you can. Trying not to disturbed Silver and you manage, until one morning.
Lilia and you were up up all night and still up. You normally went back to your room but you could hear Silver up and moving around.
"Sh, we need to be quiet." You whispered to Lilia, who just nodded.
Silver was use to you two sleeping in that was normal but you had talked about going to the lake today and wanted to go early. He opened your door to see the room empty.
He quickly went to his Father's door and flung it open. "Father!" Silver began but stopped when he saw the two in a rather compromising position. Luckily your back was turned towards him.
"Silver!" Lilia exclaimed as he pulled the blanket up to cover you up.
"S-Sorry!" Silver exclaimed as he shut the door.
"Knocking! Please learn to knock!" You called after him with a giggle but red faced.
"Good to know I can still traumatized him even in my old age." Lilia chuckled as he received a gentle smack around the chest.
"Lilia!" You gasped just making him laugh more.
Silver:
Lilia knows what you two are up to at night but he seems no harm in it as long as you're being safe.
He can hear you sneaking around at night, going back and forth between the rooms but he always assumed it was at night.
He had gone to the market for his weekly trip. He placed the groceries on the kitchen table. He listened and heard nothing.
"Are they napping again?" He wondered to himself as he made his way to Silver's door. He opened it to see you two laying on his bed naked and asleep but the banging of the door had woken you both up.
"Father!" Silver exclaimed as you did.
"Lilia!" As you both tried to cover up.
You were both red faced as the blanket was brought up to your chin.
"Oops, sorry I should have knocked." Lilia chuckled as he closed the door.
Mallues:
Of course you had your own room, as was proper.
Your room was close to his but it didn't matter where your room was in the castle Mallues came to your room every night.
Some times you even went to his room. That's what you did last night.
Normally you both up early so no one catches you but you were got carried away.
So you were getting out of bed and throwing on your robe when the door was thrown open by Sebek.
"My Lord, your late,...." He began when he was you in your robe and Mallues in just his pajamas bottoms. "My lord, forgive me!" He exclaimed as he blushed and quickly exited the room.
"Knocking Sebek, you need to knock." Mallues called after him.
"Yes my lord!" He called from behind the door making you laugh.
"Poor Sebek. Go easy on him. At least I was in my robe." You chuckled as you go up and hug Mallues.
"Thankfully." Mallues said as he leaned down and kissed you.
Sebek:
Dating a knight wasn't easy but Mallues tried to make it easier by allowing our room close to Sebek's. Right next door.
It made it so easy to spend time together, when Sebek had time. So most of your time spent together at night.
Despite your best efforts you still fell asleep in his room often.
You often woke up to him getting ready for his shift. Every once and awhile you managed to wake up before him and got to wake him up.
Today he had the late shift so you decided to take your time waking him up.
Or so you thought.
Sebek only had his pants on and you were only in your underwear and bra when the door was opened.
"Sebek, you're late." Silver called out as he entered the room and everyone froze. "Oh, sorry!" Silver muttered as he blushed and quickly left the room.
"Knocking Silver!" Sebek shouted after him just as red faced.
*******************************************************
I hope you enjoyed this short. I wrote this quickly while I still had an idea in my head.
I was watching a show and there was a scene similar to the first one and it gave me this idea.
I hope you liked it.
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malk1ns · 1 day ago
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november 11 2024 vs stars, 7-1 loss
yikes!
no soulbond verse for this game because like. what even. tw for breakups because they pissed me off and i'm taking it out on them this way.
Zhenya goes through the Dallas game in a haze.
They’re losing badly. He tries on the ice, but he’s distracted. He flubs shots and mistimes passes, and in between shifts he sits at the end of the bench and stares down at nothing, shrugging off teammates and coaches alike.
Sid keeps looking at him, peering around whoever is serving as a buffer between them to try and catch Zhenya’s eye, calling their line in before faceoffs when Sully sends them out together, but for all Zhenya listens to his plays and nods along, he won’t look directly at Sid.
He doesn’t know how he’d react right now, if Sid tried to talk to him like he had after practice yesterday, catching him right when Zhenya was about to make his escape to the locker rooms and talking earnestly at him about acting normal and making sure the team isn’t impacted.
Fuck the team, and fuck Sidney Crosby too. Right now, Zhenya couldn’t possibly care less.
He lets off some steam in the third, going after someone in a green and white jersey and cussing out the ref who leads him to the box, but by the time the final buzzer mercifully sounds even that fit of temper has passed, plunging him back into the hazy malaise he’s worn since Sid broke up with him after they landed in Pittsburgh on Friday night.
Zhenya had been exhausted after a long road trip, looking forward to bundling Sid back to his house and installing them both on his enormous bed to cuddle and watch TV until they wound down enough to sleep. Instead, Sid had paused by Zhenya’s car, taken his elbow, and earnestly told him that he felt like what they were doing, what they’d started up last spring after what felt like over a decade of slow-burn pining, was a distraction. Was a bad idea. Was bad for their hockey.
Well, Zhenya hopes Sid’s happy. His grand plan sure did a lot for the team and their hockey tonight.
Sully talks at them in the room after the game, voice raised and urgent. Zhenya tunes him out, wonders if he’ll be fired soon. Zhenya hasn’t talked much to Kyle, whose focus since he got hired has been pretty much exclusively on Sid, but surely after a game like this the front office is considering making moves.
Losing is one thing. Embarrassing themselves like that at home is another. 
Zhenya wonders vaguely what Sid’s parents will have to say. They’ve been trailing the Penguins practically the whole season, waiting for Sid to hit his milestones, and Zhenya’s spent a lot of time with them as a result. He’s not entirely sure what Sid’s told them, but Trina’s been kind, caring in a way that made Zhenya miss his own mama fiercely, and Troy liked to bend Zhenya’s ear about international hockey. They’ve been around when Zhenya’s shown up after bad losses, late at night and seeking comfort from his boyfriend.
Sid will have to come up with some explanation for why Zhenya’s suddenly dropped out of their lives. Between that and this loss, Zhenya imagines it won’t be a pleasant conversation. He can’t even find joy in that.
At least Zhenya’s parents will only want to talk to him about that penalty he took in the third. He hasn’t breathed a word about Sid to them, not even when they were in almost constant contact all summer. He’d been scared, little-boy frightened of making his parents angry, and while at the time he’d felt guilty, like he was treating Sid like something shameful, he can’t help but be grateful for it now.
When Sully leaves, Zhenya stands and mechanically strips off his baselayers. The sooner he can get home, the better.
“G.” Sid’s suddenly standing next to him, clutching a towel and looking worried. “Bud, hey, can we talk?”
Zhenya, for the first time in his tenure on the Pittsburgh Penguins, shoulders past Sid without a single word or acknowledgement. 
Sid can take his fake concern and shove it up his ass. It’s not his business anymore, how Zhenya’s feeling.
He’ll handle it on his own.
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harrycherryhigh · 5 months ago
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Broke up with my man today for real this time
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kurthorton-moving · 1 year ago
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feeling very 🧍‍♂️ may not be around for a bit
#its nothing tumblr related really its more just irl#a mix of being tired and having deadlines and not being able to make myself work#and the. kinda harsh switch in vibe in the house from last nights everyone hanging out having fun#to todays me alone cleaning up after everyone and knowing that the others are content doing their own thing and don't wanna hang w me#which like!! is fine im not expecting to be the center of their world its just.#idk we used to hang out every night watching a movie or some tv and laughing#and ever since i got back from my trip we just. we spend time together maybe once every 3 or 4 weeks and it takes me asking if they wanna#hang out like 3000 times before it ever happens and when it does there's just. theres a disconnect#and I think they just realized during the two months i was away that theyre. maybe a bit happier without me#or at least they find it easier to not hang out#like theyve got jobs now so obviously they dont have time the way they used to but its not just that theres been a Shift#i think they also might. kinda resent me for the trip and having that opportunity#which sucks bc i cant. do anything ab that i had no say in the trip i didnt want to go#and even saying that makes me very. like that feels like such a selfish arrogant thing to say to want to turn down a trip across the world#but everyone who was here during that trip knows that i spent the entire time dissociating and getting yelled at and suicidal so uh#i dont think its selfish to not have wanted to go when i Knew it'd end like that but i think they might think it was#ANYWAY this got depressing and sad i dont mean to bring shit here its just i literally only have 3 friends and 2 of them r these ones#and the other is so emotionally unavailable and doesnt really take mental health seriously so#ooc.#negative cw
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morningmask27 · 1 month ago
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if I'm chattering about my friends/crush here all the time anyway, I have to admit that I have a severe aversion to philosophy after whatever the fuck happened the last year of secondary school (so the year right before university) and I have personal beef with Plato, but my crush is actually interested in that and tbh... I will not go out of my way to study it, but I would probably hang onto every word my crush would say about it and I should maybe tame my first reaction of distaste (though, the intro to philosophy class I had last year wasn't That Great either, so I don't have a lot of good experiences academically with that subject)
#morningtalks#Gotta at least share some fun stuff and now just the Might Have Gone Horribly Wrong In So Many Ways event at the end#God I love this girl so much#And we're starting to spend more time together. It's fun#We spent a decent chunk of last night playing a 5000 year old boardgame#I eventually won but it was close the entire time#And while she was often the one enduring awkward stories about her being told she kinda did it to herself a bit#And I did try to defend her whenever I could#With a mutual friend of ours we might also have developed a new very weird inside joke#But like. Really weird...#But the night was genuinely so much fun#Even when we were at the bar. I hate bars I hate dancing I hate loud music I hate the lights but my friends were there#And she especially was there and it was fun. I had so much fun#I am still very much shaken by what happened (it was less than 24 hours ago ...)#But I am genuinely mad that they soured the entire memory of this night so much#I had fun. We laughed we joked I was so close to her the entire night she did sexy dances at me and I got a bruise#But it all had to be ruined in the most terrifying of ways#Again. I was most importantly scared for her safety. Mine was secundary as long as she somehow wouldn't get hurt#But I want to think about the good things that happened that night too. It was so incredible and I don't regret any of it#Well maybe having moved a bit while she danced (and even then I barely moved. She just calculated the distance poorly) which led to said#Bruise. But it was in such a funny context and she said she was fine after so it's all just one funny event in a super fun night
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pseudowho · 9 months ago
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Stoic
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When Gojo assumes Nanami Kento's lack of PDA for the reader shows a lack of desire for her, a tipsy Kento is quick to correct him.
Warnings: 18+ drabble, Kento goes on a smutty rant
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'A quick drink' after work had soon turned into two, three, four. Shoko took full advantage of the rooftop bar's balcony, smoking and idly chatting; Higuruma and Atsuya gossipped and quipped, snorting into their drinks; Satoru observed Kento and you keenly behind his dark lens; you stood, excusing yourself to the bathroom as Kento gave you a gentle smile.
"I'm sorry," Satoru interrupted loudly when you were gone, his pot boiling over, "I just-- I just don't get it, Nanami." All eyes were on Satoru and Kento now-- Kento, with one thin eyebrow raised in quiet disdain at Satoru, and Satoru, with his elbows planted forward on his knees in challenge.
A few moments of silence. Kento huffed, "Should I be apologising for someth--"
"--you've been together for years," Satoru interrupted, "and I'm just not convinced. She could be-- she could be a coat rack for all the affection you show her, you're supposed to not be able to keep your hands off her--"
"--you want me to grope my fiancée in public, am I correct--"
"--well maybe, anything to show that you love her--"
Kento laughed out loud, deep and humourless, continuing to chuckle into his glass, scoffing to himself; "Love her," he rumbled, swirling his whiskey, amber eyes flickering and carnal in the firelight.
Shoko had turned, smirking, to watch the scene. Atsuya leaned back, scowling, chewing on a toothpick with crossed arms. Hiromi leaned, glimmer-eyed, into the drama, one hand cupping his jaw and the other clasping his wineglass. He picked up the bottle, slowly beginning to pour another glass.
"I don't love her," Kento spat, downing his glass of whiskey in one smooth swallow, hissing and slamming the glass down on the table, "I worship her. I'm obsessed with her."
Satoru was silent, mulish, as Kento continued.
"I would walk through rains of bullets for her," he mused aloud, "I would cut off fingers with blunt knives--"
"Nanami, alright, I'm sorry--"
"Any second I'm not with her," Kento continued, his voice quieter, darker, the group leaning into him, "is a second wasted. I don't know what point there was in the years I spent without her-- probably just there to build me into even a semblance of the man she deserves--"
"--why are we doing this--"
"-- and when I'm not thinking about talking to her, watching her, being near her, holding her, or-- fuck, just having her look at me goes bone-deep...I spend at least eighty-percent of my time thinking about different ways to make her cum--"
Satoru was blushing now, his face in his hands, while the others leaned into Kento's mild breakdown with awe, "--fucking hell Nanami, I didn't mean--"
"I almost died last week, at work," Kento mused, as a laughing Hiromi slid the glass of wine down the table to Kento, which he caught seamlessly, "because I was too busy thinking about how her mouth had felt around my cock the night before, because I was pondering the many applications for my tie, because I was thinking about how incredible she felt underneath me--"
Atsuya and Shoko whispered together, Hiromi now giggling to himself unashamedly; "Oh he's really going for it--" "I know I know, shhh, let him finish--"
"--and I've been sat here with her all evening, resisting the urge to strip her, tie her wrists together and have her ride me until I go fucking blind, all because of social-fucking-propriety, just for some long streak of jizz like you to say I clearly don't love her--"
Satoru had shrunk in on himself now, his soul quietly leaving his body, mortified and put to rights as Kento tsked, swirling his wine before downing that, too. He accepted the bottle Hiromi slid towards him in approval.
"...it really just is rather rude and presumptuous of you, isn't it, Gojo?"
The group sat in stunned silence as you returned, sitting beside Kento and laying a hand on his crossed knees. You felt the bizarre tension; Hiromi unable to conceal a blush as he looked at you, Shoko giving you a knowing smile around her cigarette, Atsuya unable to make eye contact. You smiled uncertainly.
"...what did I miss?"
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Still waters run deep 💀💀💀
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nereidprinc3ss · 1 month ago
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do you believe me now? | 8
it's the morning after. spencer reid suspects you’re left with some doubts after losing your virginity to him. he has to figure out why—which is hard when you're keeping secrets.
series masterlist
this series is 18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, blood related to losing virginity (dramatized for the drama duh), super vague allusions to the BAU being hungover, mild blasphemy if anyone even cares, pondering god bc am I really a fanfic writer if I don’t get a little religious w it, emily AND hotch are here and nobody knows why pls don't pay attention to that bc we are imagining like season 11/12 spencer and I'm inconsistent w who is unit chief in this series apparently, spencer slut lore, spencer emotional wounds lore, Spencer is a traumatic situationship survivor a/n: DADDYS HOMEEEEE (me and dybmn not spencer) anyway missed these little guys and am happy to be writing for them again!! idk what my upload schedule will becoming back to this but pls lmk what u think of this part, I have no idea how you will respond but I'm being brave and ily
Friday morning Spencer comes into the office fifteen minutes late (he tried his best), in yesterday’s suit (everything in his go-bag had been too wrinkled), hair messy (no doubt from your fingers), coffee cold (he’s exhausted) and overall, in an excellent mood.
The rest of the team isn’t faring quite as well—Spencer gathers they stayed at the bar celebrating Derek’s birthday a lot later than he had. It shows through sallow skin and dark circles and the grimaces he receives on the way to his desk that are probably supposed to approximate good morning’s. 
Honestly, he doesn’t mind the dull mood—he doesn’t need the teasing and the prying questions that would be sure to come if his co-workers were at peak performance and were able to put together his unusually perky demeanor and disheveled appearance. At least Prentiss doesn’t appear to be paying him any mind. She’s always the one who can read him like an open book and has no shame in doing so aloud. Echoes from years of, ‘so who was the lucky girl, last night, Reid?’ Still ring through his mind and it’s like he can feel her finger prodding at his side. 
The Emily of it all makes him smile, though the rest of the memory leaves a metal tang in his mouth. Back in those days, there were sometimes a lot of girls, but even then he was consciously aware he wasn’t necessarily doing something he enjoyed. He spent a lot of time, actually, staring at his bedroom ceiling, psychoanalyzing himself. Repetition compulsion. The insatiable desire to repeat or reenact emotionally painful experiences. Maybe he thought if he could teach himself to subsist off of emotionless hookups, he could in some way heal from his experience with Elle. Though, he’s hesitant to think of it now as healing—it’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing when a few nights after she said I don’t feel the same I’m sorry he opened up his front door for her. It’s not like he didn’t know what he was doing every time after that. So, maybe heal isn’t the right word, when one doesn’t have the right to be injured. Or when the injuries are, in a manner of speaking, self-inflicted. At the very least he could tell himself that this time around, meaningless sex was a choice he was making for himself. Spencer hates when things just happen to him. 
But you—you’re different. You were a complete surprise. At first, a cute and unexpected complication. After a few painful and short-lived attempts at real relationships, Spencer decided he was simply not to be trusted with emotional intimacy of any kind, including that which inevitably develops from physical intimacy, and would resign himself to a life of celibacy. He tried not to like you, but you were just so damn likable. Magnetic, to use a trite and perfectly honest turn of phrase. All that to say: he doesn’t regret you at all. There is no filter of putrid shame or anguish over his memories of last night. 
Just you. Perfect. Starlit. Glowing softly around the edges like you’re not even real. 
I love you I love you I love you. A hymn with no melody. You, always reminding him exactly why he is decidedly not a man of faith. At least, not in the typical sense of the word. 
How God became the idol and not Mary is lost on him. That’s why, Spencer supposes, tapping an eraser on his desk, marriage and sex were forbidden for so many ecclesiastics. After all, if they knew what it was to love a woman, specifically to love you, he doubts they’d feel like spending much time in the pulpit. Love. Humans had that long before they had any gods. It’s primeval. It’s the most natural manifestation of devotion and worship. It will always have come first. Isn’t it a better kind of religion when a man realizes he can kneel in front of a woman rather than an altar?
A heavy hand falling on his shoulder jolts him from his theological musings—which are in all practicality useless. What’s that saying about blasphemous thinking on the FBI’s dime? Right. There isn’t one. 
“I’m scared to ask,” Morgan says as Spencer jumps slightly in his chair. 
“What?” He mumbles, looking up from the document he’d only sort of been reading.
Morgan just looks at him, strong brows furrowed and a ditch between them, angles his head and glances to the side as if Spencer is missing the obvious. He almost follows Derek’s eye-line. When that doesn’t work, Derek just says your name. Like your status is somehow in question. 
“Did you two work things out, or not? It looked pretty bad when you guys were leaving last night.”
People often misunderstand an eidetic memory. It’s not like things can’t slip his mind—Spencer can actually be quite forgetful. It’s made worse by the fact that last night at the bar feels like months ago. For a moment, he has no idea what Derek is referring to. 
“Oh. Oh! Right, we—right. Yeah, we, uh—we worked it out.” Before Derek has a chance to read his face, no doubt as incriminating as his fumbled speech and an ill-timed throat clearing, he turns back to his paperwork. “Thanks for keeping an eye on her at the bar. I appreciate that.”
It’s quiet for a moment, and Spencer’s lips twist as he can feel the incoming inappropriate comment. 
“Is that the same suit you were wearing last night?” Morgan quips, his wide grin audible. Spencer can practically hear the cartoon gleam of his friend’s bleached teeth. 
“No.”
“You dog.” Derek is still smiling as he claps Spencer’s shoulder again. “What did you say to her that worked so well?”
Spencer clears his throat again and tries to look extremely involved in logging onto his computer, speaking quickly as if he’s beyond disinterested and can’t wait for the exchange to be over. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m actually trying to work so if you wouldn’t mind going back to your desk that would be great.” 
“Uh-huh. I’ll let you work. But I see you, pretty boy.”
Spencer tries not to blush like a teenager as he refuses to look up. 
Naturally the rest of the day is a slow descent into dread and madness as all those good feelings with which Spencer had started his morning begin to harden into something much worse, chilled by your lack of response to the text he sent you earlier. Which was essentially a rehashing of the note he left on your bedside table. 
Maybe it was too much. It should’ve been one or the other, but not both. He’s overwhelmed you. 
Okay, so maybe this is what religion is for. A last ditch effort when you can’t talk to your girlfriend so you have to try talking to God. 
But Spencer knows you, and he knows something is wrong. You wouldn’t just ice him out so blatantly if everything was okay. He catches himself glancing up toward Hotch’s window to see if the blinds are drawn, and considers faking an illness to get out of work early and go check on you. But he powers through the remaining hour and a half that he is obligated to stay at work, he bounces a pencil between his fingers, drums at his desk, and gets nothing else done. As soon as 4:59 rolls around, he’s out. 
Spencer can hear shuffling on the other side of your door as he stands in the hallway. A pot clatters. The walls hum with the rush of water through the pipes to your sink. He knocks, relieved that you’re okay and at the same time struggling with that weight on his chest—something cold that leans over his shoulders and whispers into his ear—so she just didn’t want to talk to you. 
Suddenly all sound from inside your unit ceases. For a few long seconds, Spencer’s confusion only grows exponentially. 
“Who is it?” You finally call, voice wavering. Also odd. Usually you just open the door. 
“Um… Spencer?”
“As in my boyfriend Spencer?”
He frowns, bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly as he tries to decipher your sudden paranoia. “I hope so?”
The click and jingle of several locks precipitates your much-anticipated reveal. 
“Come in,” you say breathlessly, more harried than usual and not giving him the tender greeting he’s selfishly become accustomed to—barely even giving him a second to look at you. But he steps inside, watching on in concern as you do up every single lock—the one on the knob, the deadbolt, even the chain. Is this really all because of his little comment last night about anyone being able to get in? He certainly hopes not. He didn’t mean to terrify you. 
When you finally turn, he takes stock of your appearance. Big hoodie, pajama pants patterned in little hearts. Hair pulled back hastily. Your skin is sort of dull where you normally glow. But you’re beautiful, like always. It always aches just a little bit to look at you. Spencer’s always been like that. Going breathless at a particularly good piece of art or pretty girl. Like yourself. Mostly you. 
You quickly turn to hurry back into the kitchen. “I was trying to make dinner, I—”
“Hold on,” he interrupts, stopping you with a hand on your stomach that is so non-demanding it’s really mostly a suggestion. He tries to clear his head, though you make it hard. “You didn’t talk to me all day. Not that you have to, but… I was worried.”
You glance at the floor and mumble, “I lost my phone,” with so much embarrassment he believes you’re telling the truth. “Did you, um—did you text me?”
Insecurity. Spencer knows well what it looks like on you. He softens. You weren’t ignoring him—but you’d been left in a vulnerable state without any ability to contact him or anyone. That couldn’t have been comfortable. 
“Of course I did.” He pauses to observe you. Still anxious. Still prepared to run at any second. Something, and he’s not sure what, did a number on you today. Maybe it’s sheer exhaustion, maybe it was the anxiety of not having your phone. But he has to figure out what it is so he can undo it. “What? What’s wrong?”
He watches your breathing pause—watches your eyes gloss over with tears and a frown contort your features. Oh, god. He’s done something terribly wrong. It’s been thirty seconds and he’s done something wrong. 
“Can we sit down? I don’t feel very good.”
“Yeah. Yeah, we can. Whatever you need.”
You cast a baleful look at him and now he has to wonder what that means. Spencer sets his bag on a pulled out dining chair and follows you to the couch where you settle on opposite sides—you’re curled up in the far corner, hugging a pillow to your chest with your legs folded in front of you. Spencer’s heart is beating fast. He doesn’t know what’s going on with you and he can’t figure it out just by looking and you don’t seem eager to tell him. 
He’s exhausted all his typical ways of collecting information, and now he’s at a loss. 
Eventually, the anxiety comes bubbling up. 
“Please talk to me,” he pleads. And you do. Almost instantly, like he stepped on some sort of landmine. 
“I know it’s my own fault for not having my phone on me and not being able to see your texts, but it really sucks that I had to find out from my creepy neighbor that you snuck out in the middle of the night without saying goodbye.”
The whiplash is so strong it’s almost a broken neck. Spencer reels, frowning deeply as he tries to process your impromptu speech, the sudden confrontation. What creepy neighbor?
“I… didn’t. I went to grab my stuff from the car around one, but I came right back. I left at 7:30. You don’t remember me saying goodbye?”
Your brow furrows, and your eyes dart over the design on the rug like you’re watching memories go by. He sees it in your eyes when you recall some hazy image of him holding your face, kissing your cheek more times than was necessary and whispering sweet things against your lips before he had to go. You shrink into the couch, clearly struggling under the combined weight of relief and embarrassment. 
“I forgot. I thought… he said…”
A moment passes and it’s clear you’ve abandoned the sentence. Spencer is concerned about this shadowy male figure who put malicious untruths into your head. He slides his hand under yours and twines your fingers together. Finally, finally you meet his gaze. 
“Someone made you believe I left without saying goodbye.”
And he almost wishes you weren’t looking at him as more tears pool before falling down your cheeks. You nod, and don’t make a sound. 
“No, honey. I didn’t do that. I’m sorry that’s what you’ve been thinking all day.”
“I was worried that you… or that I wasn’t…”
His chest aches. You’d woken up alone, no recollection of his goodbye, and without the comfort of even a text. 
“You didn’t see my note?”
The way you look at him then is heartbreaking. Eyes wide and wet and sad, lip trembling. 
“You left a note?”
Murphy’s Law. Anything that can go wrong, will. 
It must’ve fallen off the bedside table, or maybe he just hadn’t positioned it obviously enough. 
A lost phone, a missed note, and not even a memory of his departure. While none of these things are verifiably Spencer’s fault, he feels so, so guilty. 
“I did,” Spencer says gently, scooting closer and pulling you into him, head pressed to his shoulder as you try not to cry, and he rubs your back slowly. 
Your sulky words are muffled by his shirt. “I didn’t see it. What did it say?”
“A lot of very nice things about you,” he whispers. Spencer thought maybe he could get away with giving you all the sincere compliments you can’t accept face to face through a note you could read while he wasn’t around. That way you couldn’t refute them or stop him. It was a good plan. 
He feels the sigh of relief leaving your body against his neck. 
“I didn’t know.”
“I know. I’m sorry. That’s not… I should’ve just stayed. This is my fault.”
You keep your cheek pressed to his shoulder as you speak. 
“It’s not. You have a job. A really important job. You can’t just call out whenever I want you around.”
Logically he knows you’re right, but he doesn’t always think logically around you. 
“I could’ve made it work. I could’ve come in late, or the team could’ve called me if there was a case, which there wasn’t—”
“Spencer, it’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.”
He pulls back slightly, frowning at your tone. You do look relieved, much less plagued than you’d been when he arrived minutes ago, but something heavy still weighs you down. The burden of it darkens your eyes and dulls your expression. When he cups your cheek, you glance up at him, and then away once more. 
He speaks softly. “Is that all you wanted to tell me?” 
Again he earns a moment of your eye contact, but it’s fleeting. He watches the words spin around your head as you try to figure out what to do with them—and then choose to remain silent. 
There is in fact something you’re keeping from him. 
Spencer hates to use work tactics on you, but he doesn’t speak either, hoping that you’ll feel compelled to fill the silence with the truth. Knowing how you’re not entirely comfortable with quiet. 
And you try, lips parting and the sound delayed as you wrestle with something you clearly don’t know how to talk about. 
“I… my neighbor,” you say, frowning like you don’t quite know why you’re speaking. “The one who told me he saw you leaving in the middle of the night. He also—he said…”
Spencer brushes hair away from your cheek with a thumb, stroking the high point in gentle passes as your words taper off. Now that he’s thinking about it, he did encounter a man in a dumpy robe standing in the courtyard and smoking a cigarette when he left you tangled in sheets and dozing contentedly to get his bag from the car. In fact, they rode back up to your floor in the elevator in mostly awkward silence. Spencer was sure his outfit told a story—shirt untucked and hastily buttoned only partway, no belt, shoes barely tied, duffel slung over his shoulder—he wasn’t really expecting to run into anyone at such an hour, to be honest, but he hadn’t particularly cared what this man thought of him, so it didn’t cross his mind again.
Now he remembers. 
Long night, huh? I remember those days. 
It was an inappropriate comment, but given his job he’s used to ignoring those. Mostly his mind had been preoccupied with the idea of returning to you, who gave him such a warm and sleepy welcome when he climbed carefully back into your arms several minutes later that it was like he’d never known anyone else at all. 
Now he resents that he hadn’t said anything, he hates the idea that you spoke to this man and he said something to upset you and Spencer wasn’t there. Usually he tries not a judge a book by its cover (metaphorically, of course) but he’s been around enough bad men to know when he’s looking at one. Last night he hadn’t even been cognizant enough to realize they got off on the same floor. 
“What did he say, angel?” Spencer whispers, incapable of being anything but soft with you at the moment. Even though he senses something a lot like a tide of preemptive anger rising in his chest, painted over with layers of anxiety and guilt. He should’ve found a way to stay with you this morning. 
You sniffle and let your head fall again, forehead resting against his collar. Instinctively his hand slides to the back of your neck and even at the awkward angle he finds a way to press his lips to yours hair. “Can we talk about it later? I don’t feel good.”
If it’s making you this uncomfortable, Spencer really wants to know what passed between you and this neighbor. In fact, he’d be willing to bet a lot of your strange behavior this evening stems from something that occurred which you don’t feel comfortable telling him yet. But he manages to bite back anymore questions. He doesn’t want to make you feel interrogated. 
“Yeah, you mentioned that,” he says eventually, kindly, hand tracing down the length of your back and up again. “Why don’t you feel good?”
He doesn’t miss the way you reach up to discreetly wipe your cheek. But he won’t make you talk about anything you don’t want to talk about until you’re ready, and it seems like you’re already having a rough day. Which is not what he wanted. This is so far from what he wanted for you. He’s cursing himself for how he handled this whole situation. 
“Um, I just… I don’t know. I feel… bad. I’m sorry I’m being so weird.”
“You’re not being weird, honey. You had a hard day. You’re having a normal reaction to an abnormal set of circumstances.”
You sit up, sniffing and wiping your tears like you can just make the whole thing go away. 
“No, I am. I am. It’s all okay now, right? So I don’t know why I feel like this. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
He watches helplessly. “Nothing is wrong with you. We’ve… it’s been a big couple of days. Mostly good, but I think you’re probably really tired. Emotionally and physically.” 
You bury your face in your hands and nod silently. He still feels like he’s shooting in the dark, but you’re not entirely comforted yet, and it’s killing him. 
“Whatever you’re feeling is okay. If this is… about last night, or this morning, or something entirely different—regardless of what it’s about, you’re not going to be… in trouble with me if you’re having complicated feelings. And you can talk to me. But it doesn’t have to be right now. We don’t have to figure it out all at once, okay?”
You press the heels of your palms into your eyes, and for a moment, his words sink into silence. When you do raise your head, nodding, the evidence of your discomfort is all over your face—reddened eyes, cheeks polished with wiped tears. But you take a deep breath and try to project whatever it is you think he wants to see. 
The back of your hand is soft under his thumb as he sweeps it, as if he could draw forth more information that way. People speak when they’re ready.
“Is there anything I can do?” He tries, all ramped brow and soft spoken. 
You’re looking at where he’s tracing swirls on your hand as you swallow and blink the last of your tears away. 
“Um… you can say no, but—do you think it would be okay for you to maybe stay again tonight?”
Spencer sucks in a breath, painfully aware that he’s about to let you down. 
“I… I haven’t been home in a week. I’ve been wearing this suit for two days straight and I don’t think I would want to share a bed with me again until I shower.” He watches you wilt and lifts a hand to stroke your hair. “But I do want to spend time with you… do you maybe want to come stay with me instead? No pressure—”
“Okay. Yes. Is that okay?”
Spencer’s brow knits. You seem even more enthused about the idea of going to his apartment, like now that the opportunity has presented itself you can’t wait to get out. Maybe you have some sort of black mold problem. 
“Of course. Do you wanna grab a few things and then we can go?”
“Um—I also haven’t showered today. Do you mind waiting?”
“Sure. Or you could use mine. With supervision, this time.”
Spencer is attempting to make a joke about your unplanned (and unmoderated) stay at his apartment last week after he left—but looking at your face now he’s wondering if he touched a nerve. 
“Like… one at a time? Or…”
He thought maybe you’d be more comfortable around him after last night—and it’s not like he hadn’t seen you naked before then, either.
“Do you wanna do it one at a time?” He asks gently. 
There’s this sparkly sort of longing in your eyes that he’s seen before, but you tamp it down like always. You’re so cautious. About everything. Even the things you’re curious about. It’s sweet and a little sad. 
“I’ve never… showered with anyone.”
The corner of Spencer’s mouth twitches as he pushes hair over your shoulder. “I know. You don’t have to. We could save like 100 gallons of water depending on how long your showers typically last, but—”
“Spencer—”
“Sorry, sorry—I didn’t—I didn’t mean it like that. I’m not trying to pressure you. You absolutely can take your own shower. You can go first so you get the hot water.”
“No,” you laugh, and it’s like a sparkling cloud of gold has settled around you, fractals bouncing off the shine of your cheeks and eyes—the sound of your laughter, the look of it, is such beautiful relief he can’t believe how good it feels, but it fades from you quickly. “It sounds… I think I want to, I just… I don’t wanna, like… do… anything.”
For a split second your veiled language mystifies him and then he realizes what you’re trying to say without saying. Something has changed since yesterday, when you brazenly referred to it as fucking, and today, when you can’t even say sex. He’s gotten as far as it being something your creepy neighbor said. Maybe. He needs to know what. 
But that’s not the topic at hand. 
“We don’t have to. I didn’t mean to imply that we would do anything like that. I don’t expect anything from you.”
You swallow. 
“Okay. I wasn’t sure.”
About what?
He says your name. No response. 
“Can you look at me, please?”
It takes you a moment, and your head raises like you might need some oil in your hinges, but eventually you manage. Spencer hopes the way he’s rubbing your leg is comforting. 
“You know I’m never, ever going to make you do anything you don’t want to do, right?”
To his horror, your answer isn’t an immediate and resounding yes. Instead you look back down and cover his hand with your own, fiddling nervously with his fingers. 
Eventually, you reply, “Yeah… I know. I just thought… I’m not sure. Maybe it’s supposed to be different now.”
“It doesn’t have to be. Nothing has to be different. We’re still doing everything on your schedule, okay? And as for the next few days, at least—I think it might be a good idea to take sex off the table altogether.”
Your eyes narrow and you hesitate. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want you worrying about it. And I don’t think it would feel good for you right now. I think there are things we need to talk about, but… we’ve probably tried enough for a while, hm?”
You give him a shy nod and hum your agreement. For a moment he lets his hand linger on your leg and then pulls it back. 
“Okay. Do you want my help packing a bag, or should I wait out here?”
“You can wait. It should only take a minute.” You pause, halfway up to look pensive. “Um, Spencer—do you think it would be okay if maybe I… if I stayed tonight and tomorrow? I just—I wanna get out of here, for a bit.”
He frowns but doesn’t hesitate. “Of course. Can I ask why?”
“It’s just… suffocating sometimes,” you call as you turn and hurry down the hallway to the bedroom. “Feels like my neighbors are on top of me, like they’re… breathing down my neck, half the time.”
Sure, bigger apartments exist—but it’s not like you’re in a studio. And you’ve never mentioned feeling that way before. That bad feeling is starting to come back—like you’re not telling him something he needs to know. But is it worse to let you deal with it yourself until you’re ready to talk or to force it from you?
A few minutes later you return, a duffel of your own over your shoulder and full to bursting. 
“So I’m an idiot. My phone was literally in the pocket of my jeans on the floor.” You drop the bag as you bend down by the door to pull on your favorite slippers. “Oh—I think I forgot my charger, can you grab it? It’s by my bed.”
Spencer of course obliges, and is secretly pleased to be in your room again, in the light this time, so he can see better. It’s sweet. The pictures on the walls, the plants and the knickknacks and the sticky notes scrawled with messy reminders on every surface and the sweater hanging over the back of a chair—the one you’d been wearing at the cafe all those months ago—it all feels so you. He wonders why the two of you don’t spend more time here. 
He lets himself linger for only a minute before remembering his task, but as he reaches down to unplug your charger, whatever dopey smile he’d been wearing evaporates. The sheets have been stripped from your bed, and he can see why—there’s a striking stain of dried blood, and several surrounding dots, soaked into the mattress. Not much, but enough to make him feel horrendously guilty. He cringes, imagining what it must’ve been like to wake up all alone to nothing but your own blood. Poor girl. Of course he’d noticed some, last night when he was doing his best at cleaning you up, but it had been dark, and he was exhausted, and he hadn’t done enough. 
“Where’d your sheets go, baby?” He asks once back by the front door with his own bag on his shoulder, setting a gentle hand on your lower back and holding out your charger for you. You jump slightly, and he makes circles on your back, wishing there was something he could do to settle you. 
“Oh! They—they got ruined. I threw them out. It’s fine. I have others.”
So you didn’t have enough energy this morning to walk a few feet to your shower, but stripping your bed, getting dressed, and walking down to the trash chute at the end of the hall had been top of your priority list. 
You swallow as he undoes the locks and holds the door open for you, and pretend like you’re not doing surveillance to either side as you stand in the hallway, locking your door again like you can’t get out of here fast enough. 
Spencer casts a sidelong glance at you and wonders if you’re intentionally avoiding eye contact. He tries not to think like a profiler. He tries not to assign meaning to your actions, but he can’t help it. He can’t not notice. 
He can’t not worry. 
And he can’t not wonder what you’re not telling him. 
-
part nine
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toomanystoriessolittletime · 4 months ago
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A fake soccer date
Summary: Joel asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend to get the soccer moms off his back. How convenient that you're both kind of in love with each other.
Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader
Wordcount: 2.2k
Rating: E
Warnings: no outbreak, friends to lovers, FAKE DATING, mentions of dead spouse, a little angst, soccer moms (ugh), fluff, making out, smut (protected sex), dirty talk, a lot of kissing, Joel being in love, banner just for the vibes
Part of Fake Dating drabbles
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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist
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You understood his weekly dread of going to Sarah’s soccer matches now. 
It wasn’t the soccer or the getting up at 6 am to drive to some god awful town hours away to watch a bunch of teenage girls play ball. 
It was the soccer moms.
And Joel was the only single Dad of the group. There was flirting. There were definitely not occasion appropriate attire and cleavage. There was touching. 
And that was only what you saw as you watched him in the middle of at least six women who were fussing over him like he was the only men left alive while you made your way towards the field from the parking lot. 
He had asked you before if you would accompany him to one of Sarah’s games. 
You had been neighbours since before Sarah was born. He had inherited the fixer upper next door when he just turned twenty and made the most out of it. You had seen his life fall apart within months from the moment he found out his ex girlfriend was pregnant not long after. They had tried to get back together again. 
It was you and your late husband Andrew who had been there for him once Sarah was born and his ex had left him alone. You probably spent more times in Joel’s house than your own in those first weeks, all of you being new to taking care of a new born. 
But Sarah made it easy. 
Andrew, Joel and you grew close in the coming years. 
So close that Joel was the first one you called when you were sitting in a hospital in the early morning hours after an accident on your way back from your summer vacation. 
An accident Andrew did not survive. 
He showed up an hour later with a sleeping Sarah in his arms, holding you all night as you cried into his shoulder. 
The time after that was blurry. But you knew Joel was there every single step through your grief, right beside you. 
He was your best friend. 
And as best friends it was okay to ask you to pretend to be dating him to get the soccer moms off his back, right?
It’s not like he knew that you kind of fell in love with him over the last year, right?
With a nervous inhale you put a smile on your face as you approached Joel from behind, his broad back standing out to you in between the moms who had only eyes for him. You put one of your arms around him as you sneaked to his side, feeling him stiffen for a moment as you looked up at him, meeting his eyes. He smiled down at you, instantly relaxing, his arm coming around you to pull you closer against his side. 
„Hi,“ he smiled warmly and you smiled back. 
„Sorry I’m late. The line was endless,“ you lied and he chuckled. You felt his hand rest on your hip, squeezing you lightly. 
„Glad you could make it. Sarah is gonna be excited to see you,“ he said. Like you had not seen her yesterday when you had dinner together at your house. 
He kissed your temple and you closed your eyes for a moment before you turned your head too look at the people standing around you. The women were glaring at you and didn’t even attempt to hide it. 
„If you'll excuse me ladies. We got a match to watch,“ Joel said, not waiting for an answer before he pulled you towards the field, not letting go of you. 
„I can practically feel them trying to kill me with their eyes,“ you mumbled and he huffed a laugh. 
„I told you. I didn’t even do anything. They just appear out of thin air once I get here,“ he groaned and you rolled your eyes. If you didn’t know him, you’d think he’d pretend to not now the looks he received from women around him. 
Joel Miller was a catch and everyone knew it. 
You came to stand at the fence separating the field and the audience, watching as the girls warmed up on the soccer field. Sarah saw you and waved wildly and you waved back with a bright smile. You felt Joel stand behind you, before his hands came down next to yours on the fence.
„Thank you for doing this,“ he hummed against your ear as he leaned down, his chin resting on your shoulder for a moment. You took a deep breath. 
„Anything for you,“ you mumbled, gasping when he fell into you against the fence, someone having pushed him. You heard him groan lowly against your ear, his body flush against yours. He took a step back immediately, turning to his side but you were pretty sure you had felt his hard bulge press into your ass for a second.
You turned your head to look at him, finding his cheeks a little flushed as he looked everywhere but at you. But before you could say anything the kids coach cheered the girls on and they got into position for the game to start.
And a couple minutes later Joel was standing behind you again, and you were leaning against his strong chest, one of his arms around your stomach as you watched his daughter play soccer on the field in front of you. 
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„Are we…. Are we still pretending to be dating?“ You mumbled against his lips, your fingers unbuttoning his flannel. 
Things had…. Escalated a little. 
One of his hands was on the side of your neck, tilting your head up as his lips moved against yours, your body pressed against the wall next to his bedroom, his body caging you in. 
„Do you want to be pretending?“ He asked, his lips kissing down your throat as his other hand came to squeeze one of your tits over your shirt. 
„Cause I haven’t been all day,“ he mumbled and you gasped. 
You were both still fully clothed, having spent the whole day together on the soccer field, pretending to be dating. 
It was pretend when he held your hand while you grabbed food. 
It was pretend when he pulled you on his lap when there wasn’t enough place to sit. 
It was pretend when you went up and kissed him when one of the soccer moms had her hands on his chest. 
Right?
„Joel….“ You hummed letting you head fall against the wall as his hand slipped under your shirt and towards your chest. You finally had his flannel open your fingernails scratching over the shirt he was wearing underneath. 
„I… I don’t want to pretend. I… I want you. I want you all the time,“ you confessed, your eyes closed as he sucked on the soft skin on your neck. 
He looked at you then a small smile on his flushed lips. 
„Good,“ he simply said, before he kissed you again and pulled you towards his bedroom. 
He undressed you slowly, kissing a path from your lips down to your hips before he told you to lay down. 
With your arms spread out on his mattress you looked up at him as he got out of his clothes, biting your lip when you saw his thick cock, already glistening at the tip. 
„Dreamed of this,“ he said as he joined you on the bed, crawling on top of you, kissing you softly as he laid down between your spread legs. 
You nipples hardened as his chest brushed against yours, the only thought in your head being that you wanted him closer. Always closer.
„Yeah?“ You asked with a small smile, your fingers brushing over his back. He nodded. 
„Me too. Dreamed of this for months,“ you confessed and he kissed you again.
„Months?“ He asked kissing your nose.
„Mhh… Think I knew when you fixed my bathroom sink and explained every little step you were doing. Thought back then that I’d listen to everything you’d explain to me as long as you wouldn’t leave,“ you said quietly, a little shy. 
You parted your lips when you felt his cock slip though your folds. 
„When you held Sarah after she fell from her bike last year. I watched you with my daughter in your arms and thought to myself, fuck I’m in love with her,“ he said and you felt a tear slip out of your eyes. 
You tilted your chin up to find his lips in a deep kiss before you brought one hand down and between your bodies, hearing him moan when your fingers wrapped around his stiff cock. 
„Wanna taste you first,“ he mumbled against your lips. 
You shook your head. 
„Plenty of time for that after. Wanna feel you please,“ you pumped his cock and he closed his eyes, his forehead resting against yours. 
„Fuck. Fuck okay. Condom?“ He asked and you grinned. 
„You got some? I’m on birth control and I trust you,“ you said. He looked at you for a moment before he shook his head. 
„The last time I didn’t use a condom with someone who was on birthcontrol I got Sarah,“ he chuckled before he pushed off of you and reached towards his bedside table, finding a little golden foil package, ripping it open and pulling it over his cock. 
He came back to kneel between your legs, one of his hands wrapped around his cock while he reached for a pillow and with a grin. 
You grinned back, arching your back as he pushed the pillow under you and under your ass before both of his hands pulled you towards him. You crossed your legs behind his ass, pulling him closer as he leaned down, lining his cock up with your pussy. 
„No more pretending,“ he whispered and you shook your head. 
„No more pretending,“ you repeated before you kissed him as he slowly pushed inside of you. 
Your lips parted against his as he slipped inside you, both of you breathing heavily, a quiet moan coming from you as he stretched you. 
You hadn’t been with anyone since your husband died and Joel wasn’t exactly small. 
"You okay?“ He asked, slowing down. 
You just nodded, before you kissed him again, finding yourself enjoying the stretch of his cock as it pushed slowly inside of you. 
„Keep going, feels so fucking good,“ you mumbled against his lips and you felt him smile as he moved, his cock moving inside of you until his whole length was filling you, both of you releasing a loud breath. 
„Should have done this sooner,“ he said as he pulled back and began to slowly fuck into you. You had one hand in his hair, the other on his ass, feeling him as he moved inside of you, his cock filling you perfectly with every thrust. 
„Yeah,“ you moaned, closing your eyes. 
„Keep your eyes open,“ he hummed and you did, finding him looking at you. 
„I wanna see you when you cum on my cock,“ he said and your walls clenched, making him smirk.
„You liked that, huh?“ He asked and you nodded slowly. 
„Keep going,“ you whimpered. 
„You know what I think of when I jerk myself off in the shower? I imagine the way you look when you cum. I wonder how you sound when I make you cum so hard you see stars. I wonder how you taste. I wonder if you like it hard or slow. I wonder if you wear these pretty lace panties I saw hanging in your bathroom that one time whenever you’re around me,“ he continued and you whimpered his name. 
„I wonder if you would let me fuck you at the dining table when we have dinner together. Or if you’d suck me off in the garage when we have a couple minutes to ourselves. Or on the couch after we watched a movie. I wonder if I can make you scream my name so everyone knows that you’re mine,“ he said before he kissed you and changed the angle of how he was fucking you, his cock hitting a spot inside of you that had you shaking. 
„I’m gonna take you to the lake house this weekend so I can have you screaming as loudly as you want to,“ he said and you nodded biting your lip to keep quiet, still mindful of the child sleeping down the hall. 
„Cum for me baby, let me feel you,“ he said as he crashed his lips down on yours and you shattered, coming harder than you had ever before, your legs shaking as he kept pumping his cock into you in quick deep thrusts. 
„Fuuuuuck,“ you cried quietly against his lips, feeling his lips twitch into a smile. 
„Beautiful,“ he hummed before his hips stuttered his cock pulsing inside of you as he slowly continued to fuck into you, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he orgasmed. 
Both sweaty and out of breath you just looked at each other before he kissed you and slowly rolled you to the side, pulling you against his chest, his cock softening and still resting inside of you. 
Kissing his chest you nuzzled against him, feeling his arms tighten around your body. 
„Best fake date ever,“ you grinned and you felt him chuckle, before he kissed your head just as you drifted off to sleep. 
2K notes · View notes
rodeorun · 3 months ago
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love in the dark.
yandere pretty boyfriend x fem!reader.
cw: drugging, black-mail, non-con blowjob, degradation. Featuring @meo-eiru 's OC, Elias ❤️
MDNI.
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“You better work,” Elias threatened the baby pink candle he was holding between pretty, manicured fingers.
One might even compare it to the young man himself. Long and more thin than thick, the pink wax at the tip molded into a heart shape, white wick sticking through the middle. Elias always had love on the brain, at least when it came to you. Pity he didn't have a fine white wick of logic to split his head in two, or rather, his heart. But, when you love the way he did, weren't those two practically the same thing?
He doesn't know how many hours he spent on the dark web to find this, some sort of ‘love candle.’ Whatever that bullshit meant. The description the seller left behind was short and to the point.
‘Ignite this candle in the presence of your desired person and watch them fall in love with you.’
Even Elias in all his lovesickness found it hard to believe, but it was that sickness itself that led him to purchasing the item. He hadn't gotten a gig lately so he prayed for the payment to go through, giving himself a headache for purchasing a mere candle that was six hundred and fifty dollars. God, the things he would do for you (or to you, but that's a completely different matter.)
You, the object of his affections. His sweet, sweet, sweet best friend who has saved him more times than he could count. You were entirely too good for him and he knew it.
A special knock on his door alerted him to your presence, and he knew it was you because you two had created that very knock in sophomore year of university. Long after he changed his name, you still had the heart to played with him like a child. Where others laughed at his girlish tears and overgrown sobs, you healed his inner child with every hug, every whisper, every time you'd look into his eyes and tell him, ‘it's okay, Elias. I'm here for you.’
And you always were.
No matter how bad his tantrums got, you never got sick of him. You were the only one who stayed. You practically conditioned him. How could he ever want anyone else after tasting a drop of your sweetness?
“Hi, darling!” Elias opened the door and pulled you in for a hug, kicking the door shut behind you. “Someone's mighty dressed up for a movie night in, hehe. Oooh, is this wine? Gimme gimmie!”
Taking the bag from your hands, Elias turned to put it on the table, laying a sweaty palm against his flushed cheek. Heaven, he couldn't do this much longer! Just a hug from you and a whiff of that perfume had him hardening in his yoga pants. He stayed faced away from you as he rocked side to side, subtly rubbing himself against the bottle you brought just for him. All for him.
“So, I was thinking we could start with a rom-com and then maybe a western, for variety, and after that there's a three hour long horror movie I found that-”
“Sorry, Elias.”
Glittering eyelids opened themselves.
“See, my boyfriend injured his arm in a game yesterday, so I need to go help cook for him,” you explained. Your sorry eyes seared into his back.
Ah, yes. That boyfriend of yours. Taller than Elias, bigger than Elias, handsome enough to be called a heartthrob and an athlete by profession. A real winner, that boyfriend of yours!
Elias wanted to spit on his corpse.
“Oh, your boyfriend!” He clasped his hands together and turned to face you. “The one who forgot to pick you up at the mall last week because he slept through his alarm, right? I remember him.” Elias fiddled with one of the bottles of wine now, snarling. So much for a ‘gift,’ you were just trying to buy his forgiveness.
“Yes, Eli, that boyfriend,” you chuckled. “But I forgave him for that, you know? Nobody's perfect.”
The illusion of bliss he was swept up in from hearing that sweet nickname quickly shattered.
‘Nobody's perfect.’ Elias knew that better than anyone else. Afterall, he was the last thing but, and yet you still treated him so preciously.
So, why? Why was it the very same thing he fell in love with you for, you were flaunting to just anyone? Don't you know that love isn't free? Especially not yours! How many bottles of hair dye, micro-needling appointments, collagen fillers, and waxing appointments did he go to for your love? By God he knows his deadname didn't deserve you, but didn't Elias at least earn a little bit of your attention?
How dare you, honestly. How dare you show someone else the kindness you won him over with? How dare you waltz in here just to stand him up for another man! How dare you fucking-
“Eli?”
“Yes, my beloved?”
You looked upon him tentatively, a testament to what a ticking time bomb he is. “Oh, alright, I forgive you.” He waved you off playfully and walked over to hold both of your hands in his. “But next time, I'll tie you up and keep you here forever, munchkin~”
Your laugh mingled with his. As if you thought he was joking.
“Ah, but, darling! At least have a drink with me before you go. It would be lonely to pop open a bottle by myself, hm?”
A single drink.
That's what you and Elias agreed on. One glass and you'd be on your way to that wretch. You didn't drive to get here and assured Elias that your boyfriend would drive you back home. As if.
“Oh, before we cheers,” Elias put his glass down and went to rummage for a box of matches, shaking his hips this way and that while humming in his search.
“Someone's in a good mood,” you grinned, watching him groove to imaginary music.
“Yes, with you around I always am,” he teased and returned to the table. He put the candle in the stand and lit it.
It was only a little unsettling that he watched you instead of the matches while he did so.
“That's a really cute candle, Elias. Where'd you get it?” you asked him as he sat down across from you, drink in hand.
“Oh, this old thing? It's just something I had laying around- Oh my god!”
Elias flinched as the candle suddenly exploded, letting out a small puff of wind that blew his hair back and left behind a plume of pink smog.
“Darling?! Are you- ack! You okay?” Elias wafted the air between hacking coughs until he could see your face again.
You looked shocked, as one would when a candle explodes in their face, but then you started laughing. Small titters that rang like a bell until it turned into gasps that made you grab your stomach.
“You're, hahahaha, so, so silly, Eli! Haha, where do you get these things?!”
Oh, honey. He couldn't stop loving you even if he tried.
“Oh, stop that, you! How was I supposed to know it would do that,” Elias played along, ears still tinged pink at his little blunder. You two looked at each other and then fell into joined laughter.
This light, airy feeling was a drug to him. No matter how boring he was, how flat his personality, you could always find something more in him. Something to talk about, to laugh about, to entertain him with. Something he couldn't find by himself.
It's like the universe sent you to him as if to say, ‘hey! This is the person who will make life worth living! The one who will take that mind numbing emptiness away!’
And who was he to deny the wishes of the universe?
“Worthless piece of junk,” Elias muttered when things settled down. The candle really was a sham then. “At least it smells nice,” he lit the candle again and waved the match to out it. “Anyways, I got a manicure today and the lady was way too rough with my cuticles. She should quit if that's the service she's going to give.”
He brought his nails up, inspecting the blood red polish.
He was met with silence.
“Darling?”
Your head was down, lip trapped between your teeth.
“R-Right. Well, it's pretty,” you shot him a sad kind of smile. “It's just, well, no. Hm, uh, no…I forgot, I guess?” Elias watched you scramble around until small tears dripped from your eyes. “I guess I just forgot that you see other women every day.”
His heart froze in his chest.
“And, I, I know she was just doing her job, but holding your hand while she did your nails- she did hold your hand, right? That's a little…”
You trailed off and wiped your tears, willing yourself to gather such thoughts while Elias looked on in shock.
His eyes flicked to the candle, to you, the candle, you. Always you.
“She did,” he said simply, cautiously, “hold my hand. Yes, she did.” Your face cumbled, making Elias shoot up. “But I hated it! I wished it was you! I want you to be the one holding my hand!”
“Really?” Those big, wet eyes pleaded with him. “Because, I get jealous, you know.”
Something below his belt started stirring.
“Is that so?” He hummed and pulled his chair over next to you, thumbing the tears under your eyes like you had done for him so many times before.
The light of the candle reflected in your eyes and when Elias glanced over, it had melted remarkably quickly. The leftover wax dripped onto the table but he couldn't care less.
First things first, he needed to make sure what he hypothesized was real. That this wasn't a ploy.
“You know, dear, I was very hurt when you started going out with that bastard. You hurt me, a lot. How do you think I felt?” He cooed like you were a child, soft and gentle in his palm.
“I'm so sorry, Eli. I'll break up with him, okay? I only want you! I'm really- mmph!”
Not the romantic first kiss he was dreaming of, but perfect nonetheless.
All this groveling and begging, over little ol’ him? It was too cute. He could just eat you up! But before that, it seems Elias was going to be devoured first.
“Darling? Ngh!” You were tangling your tongue with his, sucking his lips, his cheeks, his tongue, leaving little nibbles on his blushing skin. “Hold on, I need to-”
“Need to what, Eli? I need you right now,” you swallowed, “I feel like my body is on fire.”
Oh, god, the candle really did work. You were squirming on your chair, rubbing your legs together and giving him the absolute cutest puppy eyed stare. You wanted him. You wanted him.
“Yeah?” Elias said breathlessly, trying to keep pace with you, “well I think I need an apology for you cheating on me first.”
He stood up and pulled his oversized sweater up, letting you peek at the bulge growing underneath tight grey cotton.
“Oh, Eli! It's so pretty!” You weren't shy about rubbing him over his pants. “All of you is so, so pretty, baby. Can I…suck you?”
“Darling, I'm yours!” He said eagerly, the sudden onslaught of praise leaving him dizzy. “Anything you want to do, I'm yours!”
By the time you peeled down his pants and had his leaking dick positioned at your mouth, he was ready to burst. He was entirely ready to finally get his reward, but you hesitated.
“Wait, Eli. I think we should wait, um…my boyfriend. I should break up with him first.”
That goddamn candle should have come with a special feature to make you forget anyone but him all together.
Elias probably looked terrifying right now, fine features underlit by the glow of the candle, staring down at you harshly. For once, he didn't find your babbling cute. Not when every other word was your boyfriend's name. So, Elias kindly shut you up.
“There we go~” Elias cooed, thrusting his hips a little. “Ah, ah, darling. Don't run from it,” he giggled, “or I'll shove it down your fucking throat~”
You were choking on his cock, unable to pull away with how he had his fingers locked behind your head. More than you moving, it was Elias who was pumping himself in and out of your mouth, not stopping until his balls slapped against your chin every time.
“What a good little thing you are, angel. I love you so much! Hey, do you love me too? I asked if you loved me too!”
Even under the effects of the candle, you looked scared. Elias was frantic now, not only his balls hitting your chin, but his toned abdomen smashing into your face as he fucked your entire head roughly. “Dirty fucking bitch! I trusted you! I love you and you left me for dead to go date that idiot! Do you know how much that hurt me?! How much I need you?! You were supposed to me mine, all mine, just like I'm yours! You dirty, dirty f-fucking whore!” Elias let out a wet sob, spilling down your throat with his eyes screwed shut.
Heavy pants left his mouth as he stumbled back to sit on his chair, chest heaving up and down. Even through your coughing, you couldn't help but worry about him.
“Eli? A-Are you okay?”
What a wreck your voice was, no doubt you'd be feeling him in your throat for days.
“It's not all out.”
“Huh? I don't understand-”
“Lift your shirt up.” He wasn't asking.
The smooth expanse of your chest was revealed and Elias used it as extra motivation to get the last few drops of cum out, fisting his tip roughly to pull out those last thick strings. It pearled on your skin beautifully and you didn't hesitate to stick your tongue out, cleaning him off properly with soft sucks that made him tremble.
“Good girl,” he sighed and eventually sat. It was like the devil was released from him. He was just Elias again, your Eli. “That was my first blowjob, you know,” he giggled cutely, like you two were mischievous kids sharing secrets in a treehouse.
Elias sighed and leaned in to hug you after lifting his pants back over his soft length. “Oh, my baby. I can't believe this worked. Had I known, I wouldn't have done this sooner. I can't believe you're finally mine,” he mumbled into your hair. “I love you, darling. And you love me too, right?”
Silence.
“Darling?”
Elias held you at shoulder length away, not wanting to let go of you completely yet. “Hey, why the tears, darling? Hehe, do you love me that much? Aw, well-”
“I'm sorry, Elias.” Your dark pupils met his.
There was no reflection from the candlelight anymore. In fact, the flame had blown out completely by now, leaving behind a sad little puddle of wax.
Your arms pushed his off as you stood up. “Shit…I- oh god, my boyfriend. What's wrong with me?! I'm sorry, Eli- I mean, Elias, um, I think the wine was a bit too strong for me. I really didn't mean to…”
What the hell was this?! Was this- did your love only last while the candle was lit?!
“What the fuck!” Elias cursed loudly, fingers gripping his silky tresses. The situation was beckoning a meltdown.
“I know, Elias, I'm so sorry, but I don't know what came over me!”
You were scared, he could see it. And he's sure part of that fear was from the ache in your throat, the names he had called you when he was at the peak of bliss. How he carried on when he was so sure you were his completely. Over what, a stupid candle? He was an idiot! He had to do damage control.
“It's…alright, darling. It's okay. Hm,” Elias hummed as he thought, standing up to pace. “It's okay. Your boyfriend is waiting for you after all, run along now. It's getting late.”
“Elias?” You weren't sure what was going on.
“Don't worry, dear,” Elias looked at you with warm eyes. “I can keep a secret. We just got a little overwhelmed, didn't we?”
He was giving you a way out, obviously. But why?
“Right,” you said, unsure.
“That's okay, we all have our moments,” Elias giggled and walked over, wrapping his arms around you, letting one sneak down to cup your ass. “Some more than others.”
“I don't think we should be-”
“Be what? You already swallowed my load, pumpkin. Let it dribble all down your chin and everything,” he mused, rubbing a finger against your lower lip. “Or did you want to come clean to your boyfriend?”
“No! I really don't know what happened!”
“Then it's a secret,” Elias whispered, pulling you in for a kiss. You were helpless to him, unable to pull away under the looming threat of him snitching on you. His tongue traced your lips before he pulled away.
“I won't tell if you won't, darling.”
Elias sent you off with a few more kisses and a slap on your ass, already hard again and humping you like a dog all the way to the door where you left with tears in your eyes. You were just too cute!
It wasn't much, but it was something. The only excitement Elias could offer you. Now, he had a personality.
He was your secret lover.
“Aha! How wonderful!” Elias twirled around in excitement. What an adventure!
Soon, he'd guilt your sweet soul into breaking up with that idiot and you'd be all his. He already had a foot in the door after all.
Bringing a hand to his lips, he recalled the way yours felt against his. Marvelous, absolutely marvelous!
Hmm..
Elias took his phone out and sent you a quick text.
‘I think I left some lipstick on you, darling. Clean that up before you see you know who ;)’
Not even moment later, his phone rang.
“Hey, Elias?”
“Eli,” he corrected.
“Yeah, can you not-”
“Eli.”
“…Eli. Uh, can you not send texts like that, please? Just in case he sees.”
A shiver ran up Elias’ spine at the secrecy of it all. You two were bound by sin.
“Of course, darling. I'll call you tonight then.”
“I'm spending the night with him,” you said nervously. “I can't.”
“Alright then, I'll just text you,” Elias inspected his nails casually.
“But-! Ugh, fine. I'll call you later.”
“Perfect. We'll talk soon then. Make sure your camera is on, I'm still throbbing over here,” he giggled.
“I have to go now,” you whispered.
“I love you, darling.”
“Yes, he's coming so-”
“I said I love you!”
“…I love you too, Eli. Bye.”
Elias waited for you to hang up with a smile. You were already cracking under the pressure of your unwanted affair. Sure it would hurt you now, but if this didn't last long then it would be him hurting later. Surely, you wouldn't be able to deal with that, not your kind heart. After all, his beauty is something that shouldn't be marred, you said so yourself.
It was only a matter of time now.
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a/n: I actually finished this over a week ago but the Elias lore kept pouring in and I was scrambling to edit to make this as canon as possible but I gave up sooooo, yeah 😃 just imagine this as eli if he actually acted on half the shit he wants to do ig lmfaooo
Also can't believe I wrote unwilling reader because Elias is literally my baby muffin snuggly pie googlie bear and i love him, but i love men suffering more ig 💗
Divider: /animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Please do not ask for part 2. Thank you!
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heich0e · 5 months ago
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"can i call you later?"
the wind bites at your cheeks, but the sting you feel is as much from the smile on your face as it is from the chill.
"dunno," you muse, pursing your lips as though you're contemplating the question deeply. "can you?"
rintarou groans, but the sound isn't half as plaintive as it ought to be. you watch as his head hangs down defeatedly where his frame is folded over the railing that lines the front of the train station, his body pitched forward over the barrier like he's trying to reach you on the other side.
you've been saying goodbye for the past twenty minutes—or, you've been trying to. sort of. maybe. the train you'd planned to catch has already come and gone, and the next is set to soon arrive. one more and it will be the last of the night, but not even knowing that fact seems to be moving you closer towards the door to the station—content to stay here, like this, as the wind of the late fall night nips at your cheeks and the two of you muddle through your goodbye with the inelegance of two people who couldn't be less committed to it if they tried.
rintarou lifts his head to meet your gaze.
"i mean it, though." he says. "can i call you tonight?"
your stomach flips when he looks at you this way. when he keeps looking at you this way.
"we just spent hours together," you remind him, but your words are too breathy to make impact. too elated to be reproachful.
you've been on three dates with rintarou now. you think they're dates anyway, though it's never explicitly been stated. his invitations are always casual, sandwiched in between all the other texts he sends to you these days, so you might be reading into things too closely for your own good. but dinner doesn't just feel like dinner when rintarou has this way of looking at you like you're the only person he's ever laid his eyes on.
"i know," he answers. it's not an explanation, or an excuse, or even an apology. it's plain acceptance. a shamelessness you find wretchedly endearing.
you glance back at the station behind you, biting the inside of your cheek to temper your delight.
"my train is coming," you say.
he looks a bit crestfallen. laughably glum, considering the circumstances.
you drag the heel of your shoe back ever so slightly, not quite a step—at least not in any meaningful way—but inching in the direction of the doors at a glacial pace. continental drift seems positively hasty in comparison to your retreat.
"bye," he calls, his tone dejected. you watch as he lifts his hand weakly, still slumped over the railing, and waves at you with only a few fingers raised.
you want to laugh, but your chest is so full of something else—something syrupy and fluttering and good—that it's like there's no space for it underneath your ribs.
you call back to him just before you step into the station.
"rintarou—"
there are other people around, stepping between and around you both—rushing into the station to escape the cold, or moving briskly as they brace themselves and step out into it—but you hardly notice them when your eyes meet.
you smile.
"—call me later."
he calls you almost every night after that.
even as the cool autumn winds change with the seasons; carrying flakes of snow as winter blankets nagano, warming with the spring, turning heavy with humidity in summer, and then repeating the cycle anew.
even as your reluctant goodbyes turn from late nights outside of train stations to early morning words whispered under blankets as rintarou leaves for practice or away games.
even as the uncertainty of whether or not you're getting your hopes up—of whether those meetings were even really dates at all—melts away into nothing more than a memory.
you're not even sure what the two of you manage to spend so much time talking about on the phone. nothing, really. everything in its own right. rintarou's phone calls are something you come to look forward to at the end of a long day. something you anticipate when you have exciting news to share. a comfort when you're missing him and a relief when you need him most.
"is that the last one?" you ask, turning just in time to see your boyfriend—your live-in boyfriend now, officially���flop back on the sofa after he drops the last moving box atop the stack piled near the balcony door.
"yeah," he wheezes, evidently winded from the exertion—from the exhaustion—of moving house. you laugh a bit to yourself as you shuffle over to the sofa, leaning over the back so you can peer down at him where he lays sprawled against the cushions.
"aren't you a professional athlete?" you tease him. "shouldn't you have better stamina?"
rintarou cocks a brow, something sly swimming behind his gaze.
"i need better stamina?" he drawls. "you're usually complaining about the opposite."
you roll your eyes in the wake of his remark, grabbing a throw pillow from beneath his head and yanking it from under him unceremoniously, only to press it lightly against his face.
you shuffle back towards the kitchen where you'd left the box you were unpacking abandoned. you grab a plate from inside the cardboard and turn to place it on the shelf you'd decided would house your dinnerware.
"it's late," you tell him, reaching for the next plate in the box. "you should go wash up first."
you don't get a reply, and that surprises you. you creep over to the sofa again, only to find rintarou staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought.
"hey," you laugh a little, leaning on your elbows against the back of the couch. "where'd you go?"
rintarou's gaze snaps back to yours. he still looks at you like he did on your first date. like he did outside the train station on your third. he smiles, bit it's a bit sheepish.
"sorry, was just thinking," he answers quietly. he reaches up from where he's lying on his back, brushing his thumb against your cheek. his smile turns a little bit giddy, then. boyishly charming. "can't believe we finally got a place together."
you lean into his touch, huffing a little breath through your nose—halfway to a laugh.
"guess you won't have to call me anymore," you joke, and rintarou's expression changes—falls slightly—but only for a moment. you realize what you've said, or at least think about the implications more, and you sort of understand the shift.
you fell in love through those phone calls.
you'll miss them—the ritual, the familiarity, the comfort—even though you know they've been replaced by something better.
you turn your face, pressing a fleeting kiss to rintarou's palm. "go wash up," you tell him again, heading back towards the kitchen and your (now twice abandoned) box of plates.
he seems to heed your advice this time, peeling himself up off the sofa and shuffling off in the direction of the washroom.
"don't use all the hot water!" you call after his retreating frame, and you hear him reply noncommittally under his breath before the door clicks closed behind him.
you've only got three dishes left to unpack before your box is emptied, but the shelf you'd been organizing doesn't seem to want to accommodate all of your bowls in the way you wanted, so you're left arranging and rearranging them as you try to find a way to get them to fit.
in the back pocket of your jeans, your phone begins to ring. with three plates balanced in one hand, you reach for it with the other—the movement muscle memory now, instinct more than volition, after all this time. you answer the call without even looking at the screen, holding the phone between your ear and your shoulder as you continue juggling the dishes in front of you.
"oop—hello?"
you pause after you answer the call, realizing for the first time that you shouldn't be getting a call at all. not at this time of night. not in this apartment.
the line is quiet, just the sound of breathing that you could recognize anywhere to be heard from the other end of the call.
"why are you calling me?" you ask rintarou, but the words are light. too fond to be reproachful.
you hear rintarou laugh—from the other end of the call and from the other side of the bathroom door.
"just wanted to hear your voice," he answers you (the same way he has a thousand nights before when you've asked him that same question.)
"you're ridiculous," you tell him, completely enamoured.
"i know," he replies.
it's quiet for a moment as the two of you stand on opposite sides of your apartment. on opposite ends of your call.
you shift a stack of bowls a little to the left. it all fits now. just the way you wanted it to.
"y'know, the hot water won't run out as fast if we shower together—"
you hear the bathroom door open, and when you look over your shoulder, rintarou is peeking at you from around the edge of the door—his phone held to his ear, a smile on his face you know is mirrored on your own, and a look in his eye that's never once wavered.
he tilts his head.
"—wanna join me?"
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nonranghaes · 2 months ago
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at least once a week, you and seungcheol didn't see each other for most of the day. neither of you spent the majority of the work week with each other as it was, but you'd been up front with him when the two of you started getting serious: you loved him, but you needed one day to just hang out with friends. being burned in the past before made you a little too acutely aware of when you were starting to pull away, and you didn't want any of your friends (single or not) to feel that same burn of feeling abandoned. so thus began your weekly day-away-from-each-other. he'd go out with his friends for a while, you'd go out with yours, and you'd reconnect at the end of the night.
you're sitting between his legs in the tub, washing your hair as you fill him in on all the drama he'd get to hear sooner or later. the suds from your shampoo drip down the back of your neck, down the sides of your face. "it's just a mess, y'know? i kinda hate that she's come down to an ultimatum, but i think it's because she knows the answer."
"ultimatums are rough," he mumbles. when you glance back, his head is resting against the edge of the tub, his eyes shut. "do you think she'll break up with him?"
"oh, definitely." you shift, the water rippling around you, and turn to face him. "she's younger than us. we tried to talk her out of it and told her she should just end things, but she said it was a last-ditch effort to see if he'd get his shit together." with a long sigh, you leaned forward, resting your head on his chest. "god, i'm glad i'm done with that shit."
he chuckles, already wrapping an arm around you. "mm... dating is hard. sometimes i hear my friends talk about their troubles, and i'm just glad we're past the dramatic part."
you scoff. "you say that like we fight."
"we fight!" he huffs. "we're both too stubborn not to."
maybe that was true, just a little bit. but you were good at handling it now: one of you always walked away so the two of you could cool off. and when you were ready, you'd talk it out. sometimes that was ten, thirty minutes, other times it was hours later. but your fights never lasted longer than a day, not really. let's not go to bed mad at each other, okay? was what seungcheol said to you once. the two of you have lived by that since. sometimes you think you love his maturity more than anything, even if he does pout at you over the silliest thing. he's your silly, sweet, intelligent man.
you just lean in and kiss him now, drawing back after a few seconds. he smiles a little, eyes twinkling as he watches you.
"what was that for?"
"i love you," you say, voice a little softer. "that's all."
seungcheol leans in, kissing you tenderly, smiling hard enough that you can see his dimples when he pulls away. "i love you, too."
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cherryredcheol · 7 months ago
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first night
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tldr: its a special night. or at least, mingyu thinks so. a/n: i am SOFT for mingyu these days. if you need me i'll be nesting.
“you brush your teeth yet?” you called out, pressing the last of your skincare into your face. 
mingyu’s giggle was all the reply you needed. 
“get in here right now, kim mingyu! or i won’t kiss you goodnight.” 
this time his giggle was accompanied by the quick, slapping sounds of his feet on the hardwood. you should probably get a rug for the room. one more thing to grab at ikea tomorrow… mingyu suddenly appeared in the mirror in front of you, smiling wide. 
“i was waiting for you, angel. wanted to do it together.” he explained, wrapping his arms around you from behind, nuzzling his face into your neck. 
you rolled your eyes, but grinned despite yourself. “we don’t have to do everything together now that we live together, you know.”
“i know” he whined pressing soft kisses on the tender skin behind your ear. “but its our first night together in our home. we should do this together,” he straightened behind you, chest puffing out, obviously proud of his reasoning. 
you couldn’t help but tease him, “its not even our first night together, gyu. we’ve spent more nights together than apart at this point.” 
he was not going to be defeated, standing his ground he met your eyes in the mirror, smiling at you softly, “we’re never going to have another first night living together, angel. create a core memory with me?”
if pupils could be heart-shaped, yours would’ve been. you turned around, facing him, and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. 
he looked down at you, so smug, “thought you wouldn’t kiss me if i didn’t brush my teeth?” 
your smile flattened, “you ruined the core memory.” 
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moonchild9350 · 6 days ago
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Firsts
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Summary: Hyunjin reminisces on all of your 'firsts' together as a couple.
Pairing: nonidol!Hyunjin x fab!reader
Genre: established relationship au, fluff, smut-18+MDNI
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: time jumps, kissing, hand job, nipple play, clit play, unprotected sex (don’t), mention of birth control, creampie, Hyunjin is in love lol
Notes: just wanted to write another fic from Hyunjin's pov! this was supposed to be short but here we are lol
If you enjoyed please consider a comment, reblog, or like as it keeps me motivated ♡
Please do not copy, translate, modify, use, or repost this work elsewhere without my permission. ©moonchild9350 (2024)
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Firsts are scary. At least that is what Hyunjin thought wholeheartedly, that is until he met you. You with your cheery demeanor, your kind heart and lust for life. He loves your beauty, your body, your everything, but he also loves who you are on the inside.
Over the last year you’ve both shared many firsts with each other, each time they occur giving him butterflies deep within as if it’s the first time you’ve met.
— —
Hyunjin was nervous for your first date, the jitters getting the best of him as he checked his hair in the mirror for the millionth time. His heart was pounding within his chest, so hard he thought it was going to burst.
He picked out flowers for you earlier in the day, unsure of what you’d like. Maybe the roses? But also what about the carnations? He spent so long staring at the two options that the clerk came by to make sure he was okay asking if he needed any help.
In the end he chose the roses, sticking to a safe choice. He carefully cared for them home, making sure not to crush the delicate petals, their floral scent traveling to his nose causing him to smile. He kept them in water until it was time to pick you up, the stems dripping all over the floor and ultimately his pants staining them.
Hyunjin felt embarrassed at the stain, convinced you would slam the door in his face, tsking that he was a mess. However, you did the exact opposite, your squeal of delight reaching his ears, which turned a bright red in response. You whisked the flowers from his hands, setting them in a vase of water before following him outside.
He took you to dinner, at a cute little restaurant in town that you had been gushing about. He found it easy to chat with you, the conversation flowing nonstop. He made sure to listen to all of your likes and dislikes, wanting to learn more about you which was easy to do since it was you.
You both enjoyed your meal, staying for the cheesecake and that extra glass of wine, your hearts wildly beating at the prospect of other dates to come.
But all good things must come to an end, the night wrapping up way too soon. Hyunjin walked you back to your apartment in the warm night air, the city slowing down as people hurried home. He’d hope to see you again as he wanted to shower you with affection and treat you the way you deserve.
Hyunjin looked forward to more firsts with you, the concept not as scary as it seemed before
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Not long after your first date, he took you to movie , as you had a love for films just like him. It was an older film, repurposed for the modern theater, one you both enjoyed and discussed many times over a late night chat.
The theater in town was old, the building itself a time capsule of when it was built in the early beginnings of the sleepy town.
You both sat in the red chairs, looking at each other as you blushed and giggled, each of you a nervous wreck. Hyunjin didn’t know what to do, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable, so he quickly looked away and focused on the screen, watching the ads that were playing.
Soon, the lights dimmed and the film began. He couldn’t stop looking at you from the corner of his eye, trying to catch a glimpse of you as you focused straight ahead. His heart was beating, his thigh bouncing up and down as he tried to pay attention to the film.
If he thought he was nervous then nothing could have prepared him for how nervous he would be watching you creep your hand to rest on the armrest separating you two.
Your hand rested there delicately, your perfectly manicured nails on display. His palms were clammy, as beads of sweat prickled at his forehead. He tried to subtly wipe his hands off on his pants, hoping you wouldn’t see.
Suddenly, you looked his way, his head turning to meet your eyes. You gave him a smile, butterflies fluttering in his chest at your beauty. He looked at your hand, now facing palm up and back to your eyes. You gave him another reassuring smile before wiggling your fingers teasingly.
Before he could overthink his actions, he quickly reached for your hand, his fingers brushing yours before resting his palm on top of yours. You giggled quietly before lacing your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze once settled.
Hyunjin was over the moon, a smile gracing his face as he turned to face the screen again. There was incessant pounding of his heart in his chest, as he held your hand in his, not believing that this was happening.
He found he couldn’t focus on the film, his thoughts on how your tiny hand fit in his perfectly, almost like two puzzle pieces finding their home together. He thought of how he could feel your pulse, the thump thump radiating off his skin. If he could feel your heart beat, could you feel his and how it ached for you?
His mind was a flurry of thoughts as he barely paid attention to the film, not even noticing it was over until the very end when you sweetly said his name, the sound sweet like honey to his ears.
He blushed, feeling embarrassed at his mishap.
“Ready then?” He asked you, squeezing your hand in his.
“Mmhmm I am,” you said, your eyes locked on him.
Hyunjin chatted with you about the film as you both walked down the sidewalk, your chatter warming his heart, creating a warm, fuzzy feeling inside. The street lamps set a yellow glow, illuminating the way as you passed others on their way to a destination only they know.
Stopping at a street corner, he takes a deep breath, his eyes gazing at you through his periphery. You stand there with your hands at your side, your gaze straight ahead.
Hyunjin desperately wants to touch you, feel your warm hand in his once more. He wants to feel how your fingers lightly brush against his as they bend and fold to rest upon his.
Would you pull your hand away if he reached out to grab ahold of it?
He thinks and thinks, his teeth biting his bottom lip as he ponders at what he should do. You’ve held hands in the theater, but it was dark inside and not as…as public. He’s not sure why he’s this nervous. It’s you, the love of his life, the sweet girl who bumped into him at the cafe down the street from your house. And of course you just met, but he feels as if he’s known you his whole life.
Taking a breath, he builds the courage to reach down and grab your hand, right as the signal to walk changes from red to white. He looks at you, his eyebrows raised as you stare up at him in shock, your cheeks flushing a beautiful shade of red.
“I’m…I’m sorry…”
Hyunjin was cut off by your hand squeezing his.
“Don’t be sorry, I like this Hyun,” you responded, your face spreading into a smile.
Hyunjin nodded his head and smiled back, his dimple popping up on his cheek. He shook his head in resolve and started walking with you by his side. He couldn’t believe something as simple as holding your hand could make him feel this way, as if he had just won the lottery and was the luckiest man alive. He’d make sure to remember this moment for the rest of his life that’s for sure
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Your relationship progressed, both of you comfortably falling into each other’s routines, your two paths merging as if it was always meant to be.
You both opted for an at home date, agreeing to cook dinner together. Hyunjin never cooked before he met you, opting to fill his stomach with take out from the local restaurants. When you found out his diet was not the best, you flipped, shrieking how he needed proper nutrients and that you would take care of his meals.
That was the start of you cooking and bringing his meals to his home, making sure he ate properly each day. He blushed as you fussed over the containers, unloading them one by one from your bag. You explained when to eat what and what each item was, as you scurried across his kitchen.
Eventually, he suggested that you come over and show him how to cook basic meals, so that way you didn’t have to make extra portions.
This suggestion led to both of you elbow deep in dough, as you showed him how to make bread, your arms flexing as you carefully kneaded the dough. He watched in awe as you worked, little droplets of sweat dripping down the side of your face.
Hyunjin didn’t realize he was staring until you asked him a question as you used the back of your arm to wipe the sweat off your face.
“Hyun!” You said, giggling as he shook his head to break out of his reverie.
“What did you ask?” Hyunjin replied sheepishly, his hands reaching for anything in his reach.
You chuckled and bumped against his arm, “I asked if you had any questions so far?”
Hyunjin had many questions as he wasn’t paying attention to your instructions, but he didn’t want to dishearten you so he said no and continued to knead the dough that was in front of him.
You both worked in comfortable silence with soft music playing in the background. Hyunjin watched as you reached into the bag of flower, grasping a finger full. You were about to throw it on the counter so the dough wouldn’t stick, but at the last second you flicked your wrist towards him, the flour flying through the air and landing on his face.
Hyunjin let out a shriek, your cackles filling the kitchen as you doubled over clutching your stomach. Hyunjin chuckled, reached into the flour bag and grabbed a handful, launching it you.
An all out flour war began, both of you leaping and dodging each other, flour flying everywhere, the powder floating gently through the air. Your clothes were splattered with the white substance, as you pelted each other. Hyunjin’s deep laughter mixed your tinkling sound, the cacophony resonating throughout the little kitchen.
Hyunjin watched as you grabbed another hand full of flour, but just as you were about to launch it at him, you slipped on the powder littering the floor, your arms flailing forwards. You shrieked and drop towards the floor, your hands reaching out to grab onto anything you could.
He quickly reached out his hands and caught you, cradling you gently within his ams. You both were breathing heavy, your chests rapidly rising and falling, little puffs of air coming from your lips as you both stood there in silence.
Hyunjin helped you stand back up, his hands traveling down your arms. He gazed down at you, his eyes catching yours. You looked beautiful, your cheeks flushed with specks of flour, wisps of your hair falling into your face.
Hyunjin’s breath caught as his gaze drifted to your lips, his mind wandering how they would feel on his. It’s not the first time he’s thought this, the idea floating around his head late at night as he laid in bed, his hand drifting to his cock that seems to always be hard during the night hours as he thinks of you.
Your eyes widen, your pupils dilating as you waited in anticipation for his next move. Time seemed to stand still as Hyunjin took a breath and gently cupped your chin, gently tipping your head up.
Leaning down, he slowly closed the gap between you two until he could feel your breath on him. There was a pause as you both stood together, his hand on your chin, his forehead against yours. Closing the final distance, your lips collided. Your lips were soft on his as he pulled you closer, his hands sliding down your arms, your torso until they reached your waist.
Hyunjin could hear fireworks going off within his head and he smiled at the cliche thought, as he continued to move his lips against yours. He shivered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he continued to kiss you gently but passionately.
Just when he thought he’d run out of oxygen, you pulled away partially, a string of spit connecting your two lips, as you fought to catch your breath. Hyunjin rested his forehead against yours and let out a chuckle as you smiled, your fingers softly carding through his hair.
You both stood there gazing at each other, your lips pressing together again and again in breathy exchange. The night went on, the dough forgotten as you embraced each other, listening to the sound of your hearts beating and the sound of the soft notes of a piano flowing throughout the room.
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“Let’s watch a movie baby,” you cooed, snuggling closer to him, your head nuzzling into his chest.
You both were in your bed, spending a lazy day together. Hyunjin loved being in your room, being surrounded by your scent, with the presence of your interests scattered throughout the room. He pulled you closer, chuckling as you squeaked at the sudden movement.
Your legs were wrapped around his, your hand on his belly as he lightly brushed his fingertips down your spine. Hyunjin has dreamed of a moment like this for weeks, wanting you within his arms, the promise of more lingering in the air.
And that’s exactly how the night went. He remembers lowering you on your back, your hair splayed out on the pillow, your big brown eyes staring up at him.
He pressed wet kisses all over your cheeks, your jaw, your neck, his cock swelling at the sound of your sweet moans as he worshipped your body. He found himself grinding into you, his cock meeting your core with each pass, strangled moans leaving his lips.
Hyunjin held his breath as you rid yourself of your shirt, tossing it away before settling back onto the pillow. He swallowed as you fondled your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples looking at him with a hooded gaze.
“Touch me,” you breathed, your lips parted as you watched his every move.
He grasped your breasts, cupping the flesh as his fingers brushed and tugged against your nipples. He listened to your moans, his eyes widening as you arched into his touch, your hands reaching out to meet his. Hyunjin reveled in how they felt perfect within the palm of his hand, soft and plushy, his mind reeling at the feel of them.
He groaned as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, your back arching into him as he licked and sucked, his other hand massaging your other breast. He felt euphoric, waves of pleasure traveling through his body as he pleasured you.
Releasing your nipple with a pop, he hurriedly rid himself of his boxers, his cock slapping against his belly at the force and pre cum oozing from his tip. He took in your gaze, as you licked your lips at the sight of his member, your hands reaching out to encircle his length.
He whimpered as you slid your hand against his shaft, your palm coming up to circle the head over and over. His mouth was wide open as he shuddered in pleasure, his hips slightly thrusting up into your hand. You stroked him harder, faster, your eyes trained on him, a smirk forming on your face as you watched him fall apart above you.
“Can’t…stop love,” Hyunjin breathed, his hand reaching out to gently remove yours from his cock. “Need to be in you. Will you let me have you?” He asked with hope in your eyes.
He groaned out as you parted your legs more, displaying your wet pussy to him.
“Of course baby,” you cooed as you reached down to part your folds so your leaking entrance was on display.
Hyunjin grasped his cock, stroking it a few times before pressing it at your hole. He was about to push in when he stopped, hesitating to proceed.
You looked up at him curiously as you asked, “why’d you stop?”
Hyunjin cleared his throat, his eyes roaming up your body until they landed on your brown orbs.
“I um…I don’t have a condom,” he replied, his eyes cast downward at the implications of not being able to have you.
However, he perked up when you responded, a wide smile on your face.
“I’m on birth control, so we don’t need one if you don’t mind.”
He felt his heart flutter, his cock twitching at the thought of not only having you for the first time but also bare. He gripped his cock harder and brushed his tip through your folds, the head catching on your clit before trailing back down to your entrance.
He pushed within you, his eyes trained on your pussy as your warm walls engulfed him like a hug. He faltered slightly, letting out a breath as the pleasure was too overwhelming. You were so wet, the slide easy as he pushed further within you.
He groaned as you whimpered, spreading your legs wider so you could watch where you two were connected. Hyunjin began thrusting his hips into you, his breath stuttering as your pussy clenched around him, holding him in.
He wasn’t going to last long, the feeling of you, the smell of you, even the sound of you being too overwhelming. He quickly attached his lips to yours as he brought his hand to your clit, sloppily circling the bud to get you to your high.
He could feel you shivering beneath him, your hands clawing at his back as he pounded into you. His face was buried in your neck, your lips at his ear whispering the most dirty things, causing him to groan.
You continuously clenched around him, your arms wrapping around his middle, holding him tight, your legs wrapping around his thighs pulling him deeper within you.
You whined his name, whimpering “don’t stop” over and over.
You were driving him insane.
He was moments away from claiming you, his cock swelling at the thought of getting to fill you with his seed. His hips stuttered as his cock twitched within your walls, his mind a mess as he couldn’t think straight.
You lifted his head and brought his lips to yours in a passionate kiss, the action tipping him over the edge, reaching that euphoria he has only experienced within the confines of his room or in his dreams.
It was better than he could imagine, causing him to whimper as his cum filled you within. His eyes rolled to the back of his head as you gasped as you reached your high, the rhythmic contraction of your walls milking him dry.
Hyunjin swallowed your moans, his body caging yours as he lazily rocked into you, riding out both of your highs.
He let out a shaky breath before pulling back, taking in your sweaty body beneath his, the clear sheen coating every inch of your skin. He withdrew his cock, watching as his cum seeped from your pussy, your walls contracting at the emptiness and pushing out the white liquid.
“I love you,” you whispered as you gazed up at him, a soft smile gracing your face.
Hyunjin felt his heart swell at the confession, his love for you expanding by the second.
You loved him.
He mouthed the words before running a hand through his hair.
You loved him.
Looking down at you lovingly, he pushed your hair back from your face, his eyes taking in the afterglow. He licked his lips and kissed you before laying down next to you and pulling you close.
“I love you.” He repeated, meaning every word as it left his mouth.
— —
Yeah firsts are scary. Hyunjin has never liked them. However, he doesn’t mind sharing firsts with you, the love of his life.
He remembers that as you descend the steps, dressed in a beautiful little black dress, your hair carefully fixed and makeup done to perfection.
Here Hyunjin is celebrating yet another first with you, your first anniversary, and he could not be happier and more satisfied.
You are his first but also his last.
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Tag list: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @armystay89 @palindrome969 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground
543 notes · View notes
atlabeth · 7 months ago
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too sweet
pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader
summary: a night out makes hotch realize a few too many things.
a/n: me??? writing for criminal minds again out of nowhere??? what is going on. and i do not have an answer i was just in a hotch mood bc he's fine asf and i finally have the confidence to write for him here we are lol. hope u enjoy this short lil thing
wc: 2.4k
warning(s): alcohol consumption, a sexual joke or two, written in one go so might be a mess! aaron is all in his head but this is basically all fluff
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Hotch can’t focus. 
Mostly because he can’t stop glancing over at you. Normally it’s not a problem—he’d lost count of how many times he’d distracted himself from mounds of paperwork by meeting your eyes through his office window, often accompanied by a smile that made even his heart beat a little faster—and especially now, it shouldn’t be a problem. 
You and Derek have had some kind of bet going on during the past few nights out—you didn’t believe he was as charming and suave as he claimed, and Morgan was all too happy to prove you wrong.
You bet that he couldn’t get at least five numbers every night, and come last Thursday, Morgan took the win at the end of the evening with a smile on his face. As punishment, the first round of their next night out was on you. 
And that’s nice, sure. Hotch is always thankful that his team can still joke around and have fun with each other despite everything they have to deal with each day. He hopes they keep the light in their eyes as long as possible, especially the younger ones. He’s fine with being the stick in the mud, the one who never smiles, the iron willed chief that scares local uniforms.
Hotch is not so fine with the way he feels right now. 
It’s a busy night at the bar, which is understandable. Hotch is sure half the precinct is out alongside them, celebrating the BAU finally solving the case that had torn them to shreds over the past week. You, Reid, and Garcia put the threads together an hour into scouring through evidence, and the unsub was cuffed before noon. 
Certainly something to celebrate—there’s a reason the whole team agreed to go out tonight and leave tomorrow. Even Rossi decided to join when he learned you would be buying, but he’s already abandoned them in favor of catching up with some old friends. Hotch even thinks they might have another round in their future because of their solve, courtesy of the local chief. They had a long night ahead of them. 
But you haven’t gotten the drinks yet, and Hotch wonders how long it’ll take even after you do. Because some officer is trying to talk you up, and you’re smiling and laughing along and giving him every bit of your attention. 
Hotch recognized him the moment he set eyes upon him, even in plain clothes. He’s some joke of an officer from the station, and he’s been trying to get your number—or even just get your attention—throughout their whole visit. Always sidling up to you during debriefs, specifically giving you any information or evidence he finds—Hotch has overheard him asking for your number more than once. 
Hotch has been so focused on the case he’s not even sure if you’ve rejected him or not, and the mere thought is enough to annoy him. If he wasn’t equally as sure of your ability to defend yourself and afraid of overstepping with you, he would have stepped in. 
But it makes sense. The officer is young and handsome, you’re young and pretty—not to mention you have a way of lighting up any room you step into. Hotch spent the whole first month of your employment wondering why you would want to do a job like this. He’s spent the rest of it thankful that you did. 
You’re sharp as a whip, naturally, but you’ve also done wonders for the team atmosphere. It’s hard to feel down with a smile like yours beaming his way. The job weighs you down like it does everyone, but you still manage to lift everyone’s spirits on the jet ride back before they jump into the next case. It’s impressive. 
It’s also trouble. You’ve been part of the BAU for almost two years now, and Hotch has spent just as much time tearing his eyes away from you as he has working. It’s wrong, and it’s wholly inappropriate in terms of your working relationship—he’s your boss, for god’s sake. 
But sometimes, Hotch will be beating himself up over one thing or another on a case, and you’ll plant yourself in his vicinity and refuse to leave until you’ve helped him work through it. If you ever tire of the FBI, he thinks you have a second calling as an elementary school teacher. 
Sometimes the hotel they’re staying at will have truly shitty coffee, worse than they’re used to at the BAU, and you’ll already be in the lobby with a tray full of the team’s orders. Hotch never recalls telling you his order—you just figured it out, and you remembered it. 
Sometimes his gaze will drift your way, and he’ll find you already staring at him. You look away just as quickly as he does, and it makes him wonder. 
Hotch has made a living off of studying the behavior of others. More often than not, he finds himself profiling his co-workers just out of instinct. His job is to know what others are thinking. 
But god. When it comes to you, Hotch doesn’t think he’s ever felt more unsure in his life. Especially when you look at him the same way he wants to for weeks, then act nothing but proper another day; when you fall asleep against his shoulder on the jet one night and entertain some desk jockey another night. 
It makes him feel like a highschooler again, trying to figure out if Haley really liked him or if she was just playing around, and it’s more embarrassing than it should be. Especially when he’s still dealing with the lingering emotions from the divorce. 
“Hotch.” JJ’s voice is enough to break him out of his trance, and he blinks as he turns to her. At least someone paid him the mercy to dispel his thoughts, even if only for a temporary time. 
“What?” 
“Did you hear a single word I said?” she asks, a slight smile curving on her lips. 
“Of course,” he responds. “The chief’s over there talking with the commissioner. He’s the same guy who made your life difficult the last time we were in Milwaukee.” 
JJ’s eyebrows shoot up, and she nods. “I didn’t think you were listening.” 
“I think he just got lucky,” Morgan cuts in, his gaze darting over to you momentarily. “I think you were too focused on our drinks.” 
Reid frowns. “I don’t think he was focused on the drinks. He’s—” 
“Just making sure they’re still coming,” Hotch interrupts, and he straightens his tie. Today really has been a long one—usually, he’s better at covering these things up. “And I wasn’t lucky. I was listening.” 
“Trust me,” Morgan says with a laugh, “I’m watchin’ her until I’ve got a glass in my hand. She’s not getting out of this after the way she bragged this whole month.” 
“The stupidest thing to make a bet on,” Prentiss remarks, “especially with you.” 
“She said she just wanted to prove you wrong,” Reid contributes. “She thinks you’re too cocky.” 
Morgan grins. “It’s not cocky if you can back it up.” 
Hotch’s attention goes back to you, and you’ve finally gotten their drinks. You’re loading them onto a tray like you’re the bartender yourself, and his brows crease. Maybe he should have gone up with you. 
“Do you think she needs help?” he asks. How obvious is too obvious? Why does it feel like his brain only works at half power whenever it comes to you? 
“She’ll be fine,” Prentiss says. “And if she needs it, that guy talking her up can help.” 
“Jason Rodriguez,” Reid remarks. “He hung around her the whole time we were trying to pinpoint a location, and he wasn’t any help, which makes sense because he's practically desk-bound at the precinct. I’m surprised she got any work done.” 
JJ chuckles. “I’m surprised he hasn’t given up yet. He’s been following her around all week, like some lost puppy.” 
Morgan shrugs. “I dunno. She seems pretty into him.” 
“I don’t think ex-frat boys are her type,” Prentiss says wryly. Hotch doesn’t think so either, but he doesn’t say anything. Contributing to this kind of conversation is certainly too obvious.  
“I doubt we’ll be back here for a while. She might as well.” Morgan smiled. “She probably needs a win after such an embarrassing loss.” 
Thankfully, before Hotch has to keep pretending not to care about this topic, you walk over carrying a tray of cocktails—and you’re alone. The subject of their previous conversation seems lost in the crowd, and he feels a dangerous amount of relief. 
“Are you all talking about me?” you drawl. 
“You know we are, sweetheart. Thought you were never gonna get here.” Morgan sits up, smiling at you. “What’d my win get us?” 
“Long Island Iced Teas,” you muse as you set the tray down. “Enjoy it, because I’m gonna be working some overtime to make up for all these.” 
Morgan grins as he takes his drink. “You should’ve never doubted my skills.” 
“I’m surprised you didn’t need any help,” Prentiss says. “You’ve done this before, huh?” 
“Bartended my way through college.” You slide into the booth next to Hotch, just a bit too close for a bit too long, and he hopes that no one can see his chest still for a moment. It’s impressive that he still hasn’t figured out how to lessen the effect you have on him. “I’ve probably got better hands than you, Morgan.” 
“Do we need to make another bet?” he asks. “Because I’d love to clean out your wallet.” 
“Maybe wait another month before you prey on any more poor, defenseless agents,” you croon, and Morgan laughs. 
He pivots the conversation away from you when you pick up your drink and take a sip, and you look at Hotch. Whenever your gaze is on him, you make him feel like he’s the only person in the room. He’s sure you never look at anyone else that way, but Hotch wonders how much of that is his mind trying to justify his imagination. 
“I’m surprised you agreed with this,” you say, mercifully interrupting his thoughts. “I thought you’d want us to go back tonight.” 
“You all earned a night out after the work you did,” Hotch says. He thinks about taking a drink, but he decides against it, at least for now. He can barely trust his sober mind. 
“You’ve earned it too,” you say. “We wouldn’t be anywhere without you, Hotch. You keep us all together.” 
He shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever would’ve connected the dots like you and Reid can with Garcia. I hate unsubs with secret codes.” 
“I’ve always liked puzzles,” you muse. “There’s nothin’ like it when it all finally clicks.” 
Hotch hums, and for a moment, he’s silent. Your gaze remains fully on him, and that might be why he has trouble thinking. It’s too easy to get lost in your eyes. 
“What did that guy say?” Hotch finally manages to ask, because he honestly can’t help it. Morgan’s points actually worried him a bit, and he wonders what that says about him. Ex-frat boy certainly isn’t your type, but someone forgettable for a one night stand isn’t the most absurd thing in the world. 
Your brows knit together as you drink some more. “What guy?”
“The officer you were talking with,” he says. “He seemed to like you.” 
He’d been flirting with you since the moment you stepped into the precinct, actually, desperate for your attention, but Hotch didn’t really want to say that. He’s sure you noticed either way, if the rest of the team did. 
“Oh. Him.” You shrug. “He’s nice, I guess. Definitely a looker. But he’s got nothing beneath that hair.” 
“Morgan’s surprised you didn’t bring him back,” Hotch says. He wonders if he’s pushing too much, and again, he feels like a highschooler testing the waters. Do you know what you do to him? What you reduce him to? 
You shrug as you take a sip. “If he knows what’s good for him, he knows he doesn’t have a chance. My attention’s on someone else.” 
Prentiss calls your name and you get drawn back into the middle of the team’s conversation, and thankfully, Hotch has a chance to digest your words—and the stunner of a smile you flash at him before you get pulled into their talk. 
His decision to not drink seems even wiser, now. Hotch has to loosen his tie, and he ignores Reid watching him. It’s futile trying to hide anything from Spencer Reid—the kid already knows everything. 
Again, it's dangerous how much satisfaction he gets from it—from knowing you never really paid that officer a second thought. You didn’t smile at him the way you smile at Hotch. You don’t smile at anyone the way you smile at Hotch. He thought he was imagining it at first, or that he was just a bit too stuck up, but it was the honest truth. You paid him special attention, and he couldn’t blame the warmth in his chest from the thought on any alcohol. 
He tunes back into the conversation just to hear Morgan demand you pay for his next drink. 
“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous,” you say. 
He puts a hand to his chest. “Generous? You’re just paying what you owe me.” 
You laugh and shake your head. “Pick your poison, pretty boy.” 
“How do you feel about tequila?” 
You make a noise of disgust and shake your head. “As long as I don’t have to drink it.” 
“You’re just paying, sweetheart.” Morgan’s eyes dart to Hotch, and he nods as he grins. “One for me and our fearless leader.” 
Hotch shakes his head. “Someone has to get us back to the hotel.” 
“That’s what cabs are for!” Prentiss exclaims. “Don’t be such a stick in the mud, Hotchner. You deserve to let a little loose.” 
“It takes most people an hour to process a drink,” Reid contributes, “so you’ll be fine before we leave if you want to drive.” 
“Come on, Hotch,” you say, and you nudge his shoulder. “You might as well—I’m paying.” 
“...Fine,” he says, and the whole team cheers. Even Reid smiles. 
“Y’know, you can smile tonight, Hotch,” you say with one of your own before you down the rest of your drink and stand up.
And one actually tugs at his lips. It feels a lot hotter in this bar with your eyes sparkling and you beaming right at him, and he fights the need to shed his jacket. Your grin somehow grows. 
“That’s what I came out to see,” you remark as you pick your wallet back up from the table. “I expect another when I get back, Hotch. There’s a lot to celebrate tonight.” 
Yeah, he thinks as he watches you go. There just might be. 
1K notes · View notes
multific · 10 months ago
Text
In This Together
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Mattheo Riddle x Reader
Summary: Your period is late.
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You tried your best not to panic. You tried your best to keep it together.
You tried... but on the inside, you were panicking over it.
And who wouldn't be?
Your period was late! And you wanted to crawl into a hole and cry all day.
Overdramatic? Possibly, yes.
But you were scared, so in your mind, it all made sense.
You even got to a point on your third day that you avoided Mattheo at all costs.
Which he of course noticed.
He tried to catch you in the halls but you were quicker.
He even debated barging into the girl's restroom at one point. 
On the fifth day, he finally caught you and cornered you in the library.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he genuinely looked hurt.
"It's just..." you looked up at him, you knew no one was around you, so you decided to tell him. "I'm late."
"What do you mean? You don't have any classes."
"No..." you wanted to cry and yell but you just let out a sigh. "My period is late." you whispered and he froze in one place.
"But we always used... protection."
"Yes."
"How would it be possible? Did you check with the nurse?"
"I didn't check. My period always came when it should."
"We should go to the nurse."
"I'm scared." you said and you sounded so honest and desperate Mattheo hugged you.
"I'm here, we will figure it out okay? It could be that you are just a bit later than usual. Everything will be fine." he kissed your hair as you hugged him closer.
The next morning, you woke up to a certain pain.
A pain you knew very well.
And indeed, your panic was for nothing. You were simply later than usual.
You felt so relieved. 
Someone knocked on your door before barging in.
"Good morning, Beautiful, so, I made a plan. Simple but I think we could do it. So, you stay in school, I drop out. I go and work in a store or at the Ministry, anywhere. I will put all my paychecks to one side and it would be a start. Then, you can give birth and we would have a home, you can decide if you want to go to finish school after or work, but I also have a small inheritance from my father so we can figure it out."
You blinked at your boyfriend. 
"You didn't sleep did you?"
"Not a blink! Theo threw pillows at me because I kept mumbling, but I thought my plan was good. What do you say?"
"I really do appreciate you coming up with this, Matty but-"
"We are keeping the baby. I don't think that is up for debate... at least not to me."
"We don't have to keep the baby."
"But I want to! I-I realize we are young but we can do it."
"Matty, I'm not pregnant. You were right, my period was just later than usual."
"Oh." his shoulders slacked. "And I spent all night thinking..."
"I appreciate it, and it is very nice to know you wouldn't just leave."
"Of course, I wouldn't."
"Yes, I get it. You look disappointed."
"I'm not going to lie, I spent probably the last four hours just imagining the cutest kid with your eyes and smile and... I kinda am disappointed. It's okay though, I know your father would have killed me so at least now we can wait until after marriage."
"Yes, what? You want to get married?"
"Don't get me started on that. It was another sleepless night after you told me about your father and his... older views." you smiled and walked over to him. 
"I love you." you wanted to say so many things, but you knew this would be simple and enough.
"I love you too." you hugged him and kissed him. "Then, I will get you some chocolate and candy."
"Aww, thank you. Who could have thought you would be such a great boyfriend."
"Well, duh. I'm the best Slytherin."
"That you are."
"And the best boyfriend."
"Exactly." you pulled him in for another kiss.
You really feared that he would just run and be like the guy your friends thought he would be, but it was good to know that he had his own plans, and his future certainly involved you.
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~Masterlist~
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/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/
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kaivenom · 2 months ago
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Hi! Can I request telling the One Piece Dilfs to make you pregnant? :d
Asking the One Piece Dilfs to make you pregnant HCS
Characters: Doflamingo, Mihawk, Crocodile, Smoker, Shanks
A/N: OMG this week people are going crazy with requests for these amazing men. I hope you like it
Masterlist
Dracule Mihawk
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He got really turned on.
He put his weight on you, his chest on your back and his thrusts starting to become painfully slower.
His hot breath now on your neck, bitting and kissing.
"So you want my seed? you want to bear my lineage," you nodded, suddently embarrased of your words, "i would like to do that with you, filling you up and seeing your round belly."
He continued with that filthy speech impulsed by his recently discovered breeding kink.
Every thrust being more powerful and intoxicating than the last one, until he came inside you, a lot.
He rolled over and put you onto his chest.
"I don't know how good i will be with children but since i had Zoro and Perona around here two years, i think i have a little experience. Prepare yourself, this night you will end up pregnant."
You were so flustered and turned on that you couldn't answer, but you know tomorrow you won't be able to walk.
Donquixote Doflamingo
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The perfect excuse to be more rough with you.
He simply didn't really care about the thing of making you pregnant, he was just turned on about being able to cum inside you over and over.
That night was really exhausting for you.
"Ohh, my little slut wants to be a mother? then you should be able to take it, if you can't take my dick how would you take my child?"
When he finally stoped getting his multiple times with you, you passed out of exhaustion.
You didn't notice how he got up and went to the window with a bottle of alcochol.
"Stupid woman, how would you want my child... i can't deny anything to you, even that. It would be bad like me or good like Corazon." he spent the rest of the night thinking about every posible future for the child and for you two, "at least i can try to be funny and get them whatever they could think of... better leave the education to her."
Sr. Crocodile
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"You have everything you want from me, my money my house, my love and know my child? you are a very vicious one, my woman."
His thrusts were deep and rythmical, with all the conversation he didn't stopped or changed his way with you.
"How would think of people if they saw you have my child? I am a criminal, a very wanted one, i am dangerous. How could someone like you think it's a good idea to have a family with me? How could you think i want you to have it with me?"
That last phrase was really cruel and you made him stop, flipping yourself and force him to look at you in the face, to see how angry you are.
"I am dating you, idiot, i love you stupid Crocodile... it is that strange that after a couple of years of dating i want a family?" you wanted to slap him but he stopped you with a strange face.
"It's not strange, in fact i thought about that too but think, i am a wanted man with a really dangerous environment, do you really want to expose yourself like that? and a child?"
"I am already exposed, there is no going back, just continue and take the next step. We know how to take care of ourselves, right?"
"Yes, youre right... and sorry for talking rude to you."
Smoker
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It awaken something on him.
It was in the middle of the act and you say it in the heat of the moment but that froze him.
Suddently you are turn over and you are facing him again, his eyes full of insecurity and awkardness.
"Do you really want it?" you blinked a couple of times, all the hornyness going away, this is serious "I have a stable job, we've been together for a long time and well... maybe it's not so bad the idea of being parents."
Yo nodded with a sincere smile while stroking his cheek slightly.
"I would love to be a parent with you."
Then he started again with his thrusts, this time more tender and full of love.
Akagami Shanks
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You were riding him and he put his hands on your thights, stopping you from moving.
"I don't oppose to the idea of filling you up until you can´t take it anymore but do you really think we are capable of raising a child on a pirate ship?" his face was halfway into laughing but you know he is being dead serious.
"I think yes, you were raised on a pirate ship and you ended up well."
He couldn't deny that, you were absolutely right.
"If we think of doing this, you won't get out of the ship while pregnant or you will be accompained everywhere and when you give birth you will take care of the child while i..."
You pinched his cheek frustated.
"This would be OUR child, i get it will i am pregnant but after that we take turns, i won't be in lock down like the child is a virus."
You didn't stopped pinching his cheek until he agreeded with you.
"I love you and we will take care of she."
"She? You already put a gender?"
"Then i will have my queen and a princess... if we have two? a prince and a princess?"
"Step by step."
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