#but i get too easily frustrated reading things that are /almost/ exactly what i would want to write

[0097linersb]

Kisses to My Exes (m)

Pairings: Yunho x Reader

Genre: Smut, PWP

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: It´s a smut so +18 MDNI.

I sat down and wrote this in 20 minutes and never looked at it again, I´m not responsible for anything under the read more button.

Follow me on twitter pleaseeee: wooyosgfreal <3

You should have let Mingi sleep on the floor.

You should have slept on the floor.

Anything but this.

Jeong Yunho was snoring next to you, his arm slightly touching yours because the bed just had to be minuscule. They were right earlier, Mingi would not fit next to Yunho, hence why you had to give him the cabin´s couch. Thinking back on it now, you could have asked to share the bed with Mingi instead of going through this and the realization made you groan louder than you planned to - but Yunho didn´t seem to be bothered by it, deep in his slumber state.

You should not have downed all that wine.

You were restless, tossing and turning in bed for hours, eyes glued to the dark ceiling and huffing in annoyance at yourself. You know how wine gets you, and you still went there and drank a whole bottle of it with your friends at their cabin. Of course you didn´t think about how you´d have to come back to your own cabin later with your ex-boyfriend  - out of all people - and his best friend. Now there you were, horny enough to climb the walls and nothing you could do about it.

Every option already crossed your mind: Locking yourself in the bathroom? With the two of them right outside? Ew, cringe. Taking a shower? The noise would wake them up, even worse than the first idea. Just going to sleep? Well, that´s what you´ve been trying to do for the past hour, but the throbbing in between your legs was not allowing you to.

The covers were too hot but when you took them off, the room was too cold, your pillow was too thin and the tags on your shirt were bugging you. Everything was wrong and you just wanted to scream in frustration –

“Will you quit moving?” Yunho´s deep sleepy voice made you jump in surprise, immediately turning your face to look at him. He didn´t even open his eyes, but you could see by his facial expression that he was annoyed.

The two of you didn´t exactly break up in good terms; actually, you could bet this was the first time he spoke to you alone since then. You don´t hate him - even though you´re the one who broke things off - and you guess he doesn´t hate you either. He is mad at you, though. Has been for the past five months.

“Did I wake you up?”

“You´re practically dancing in bed, what do you think?” He groaned, finally opening his eyes to look at you – and boy did they look angry.

“Sorry.”

Yunho sighed deeply before closing his eyes and trying to go back to sleep. You genuinely felt bad for waking him up so you did your best to stay as still as possible, but the motionless position apparently made the throbbing more evident and it was starting to ache. You squeezed your thighs together to try and relieve some of the pain, noticing how Yunho´s breathing was deeper once again. He always fell asleep so easily, it amazed you, truly.

After what felt like hours – but were probably 15 minutes - you allowed yourself to move again, trying to find a more comfortable position, anything that would get you to fucking sleep.

“Y/N, I swear to God,” The deep voice surprised you once again, raspy from just waking up.

“I´m sorry,” Your voice on the other hand was small in shame, you truly didn´t mean to bother him, you were just so uncomfortable.

With another sigh, you heard Yunho shifting in bed until he was spooning you, his chest pressing against your back so casually, “If I help you out, will you let me sleep?”

“Help me out?” You practically stuttered, gob smacked by the sudden touch and the question.

“Y/N, we dated for almost 3 years. I know when you´re horny.”

“Oh.”

“I´m tired so don´t expect too much.”

You didn´t know what else to say besides a weak “Ok.”

You held your breath as Yunho´s hand expertly snaked its way down your sleep shorts and into your panties, a moan of relief slipping past your lips once his fingers traced your slit for the first time. The hot air from his lazy chuckle hit the back of your neck once he felt how wet you were, his pads continuing to trace your slit back and forth to spread it all around.

This didn´t have to be weird considering his fingers had already been inside of you many times before – and Yunho had such nice fingers, so long and slender, so clean and delicate, so beautiful. The thought alone had you clenching around nothing, bucking your hips against said fingers so he´d do something.

Yunho followed through with his words of not doing anything fancy, not bothering with teasing you or toying with you like he used to in the past. It was clear that his sole goal was to get you off as fast as possible so he could go back to sleep, and when the wet pad of his middle finger found your clit, drawing small circles against it, you were sure his wish would become true sooner than later.

As expected from someone who had been fucking you daily for the past years, Yunho immediately noticed how you were having a hard time trying to keep your moans in, his free hand instinctively finding your mouth and forcing two of his fingers inside to keep you quiet. He had to shut his eyes at the feeling of you moaning around his fingers because God, he missed your mouth. Another thing that was driving him insane, was the way you kept grinding your hips against his fingers chasing your high, therefore, rubbing your ass against his cock on accident every other second – He had to bite his bottom lip so you wouldn´t hear him groan.

When Yunho felt you were getting more agitated against him, he slipped a finger into you - and not even the way he pressed your tongue down kept your moan inside. Yes you broke up with him, and yes you´d never admit it, but no man would ever compare to Yunho. His fingers just reached places no one could ever, and he truly knew you inside out.

You could feel all of his knuckles rubbing against your walls, pumping into you slowly a few times before adding another finger, curling them so he could find the spots that got you clenching around him – which again, took zero to no effort.

“Already?” He chuckled darkly, noticing how you were already digging your nails into the pillow in desperation.

Since you couldn´t speak, you simply nodded, bucking your hips against his fingers because it just felt so good. In the middle of the woods, in that quiet cabin, you could hear so clearly the sound of his fingers pumping into you, in and out.

“It must be sad, huh? Not having me to fuck you anymore,” His voice sounded so raw and rough.

You moaned at his words, feeling close to the edge in record time. He was right, it was devastating.

“Bet you miss my cock every day,” His lips were slightly touching your neck as he spoke and it was driving you insane, especially with the way he sped up his fingers. “And I´m sure you imagine it´s me every time someone else is fucking you.”

Once again, he was right, but he didn´t need to know that.

Yunho´s fingers left your mouth once you didn´t answer, finding its new home around your throat, choking you hard enough to cut out your blood flow but not enough that you couldn´t breathe or talk, holding you close against him. Some animalistic part of him saying you were still his. Your hands clawed at his arm and you pressed your face against your pillow so you wouldn´t wake up Mingi as his best friend fucked you open with his fingers.

“Yunho,” You moaned, warning you were close.

“I know. You´re squeezing me so tight I can barely move my fingers.”

He removed his fingers then, leaving you empty for a second before the pads of his fingers were rubbing your clit once again, trying to tip you over the edge faster, applying the right amount of pressure as he drew fast eights against you. Your body was already stiff, preparing for the wave that was about to hit, the sensation quickly growing inside of you.

Yunho felt so big behind you, his groans sounded so hot against your ear and you realized you missed this, you missed him. You held onto his wrist for dear life and closed your eyes, paying attention to each drag of his skin against your sensitive walls, and the second he tightened his hold against your throat, you let it crash down.

Your body shook violently as pleasure took over your whole body, slowly reaching every edge of you. Yunho was quick to cover your mouth with his hand, your moans muffled by his palm as he continued his ministrations, watching you crumble down in his hold. He continued until your eyes were open once again, your breathing labored but stable, your body spasming in aftershocks. He continued feeling you until you were whining over being too sensitive, until you were pushing his hand that was covering your mouth away.

As you tried to come down, you felt Yunho fixing your panties back in place, turning to look at him when he retrieved his hand, watching how he sucked his fingers clean unceremoniously. You were in awe. You wish only love and mind-blowing sex were enough to hold a relationship.

“Thank you,” You managed to breathe out after a minute of silence. When he didn´t answer, you motioned with your head towards his sweatpants, “Want some help too?”

You could see how hard he was, and not only that, but you could feel his cock throbbing against your ass the whole time he was fingering you. The way he kept unconsciously grinding into you is probably one of the reasons you came so fast.

“I´m good. Let me sleep now,” And with that, he simply turned around, giving you his back. “Goodnight.”

Oh, he was really mad at you.

“Goodnight.”

[fallingdownhell]

i love your recent posts but can i request hurt/comfort genshin impact xiao, wanderer, cyno where like they get into an argument about the reader being weak or something like that

although they didn't mean it, but after a few days after the argument, they see reader like training hard for them because of the fight.

<3

Mhh, always. You know I love me a good dose of angst! And I'm sorry, but I only included two of the requested characters, because otherwise this would haven gotten way too out of hand and too much to read. Hope you're okay with that.

Characters Included: Xiao; Wanderer

Content: gender neutral reader; angst; comfort; hurt/comfort; established relationship; arguments between them and reader; shouting and cursing at reader in wanderer's scenario; Kunikuzushi/Kuni is being used for Wanderer

Word count: 2,2k words

Enjoy the read!

Xiao

You have to understand him. He's just looking out for you!

There is a clear, natural difference in strength between you and him!

He's an adeptus after all, and you're just a human! Sure, you possess a vision and you know perfectly well how to utilize it to your advantage in battle, but he's still your boyfriend! Let him be worried about you!

Honestly, he really just had your best interest and saftey in mind when he approached you one day, offering to train with you and possibly make you stronger, since he noticed your form to be a bit lacking when he watched you train.

The problem was, he told you exactly what he was thinking, no filter whatsoever. Which in turn caused you to get a bit defensive with him. That didn't sit right with Xiao, because in his eyes, he was only trying to help you.

This then resulted in a huge argument, where neither of you wanted to back down against the other.

"(Name), for the love of the Archons. Can't you see I'm only trying to help you here?"

"By berating me and telling me all the things I'm doing wrong? Without offering any advise at all? Yeah, great help.", you scoff as you turn your back to your boyfriend, trying to resume your exercise in peace. You were hoping that he would get the hint, to leave you alone. But he didn't.

"I'm really only looking out for you. You lack basic knowledge with the sword and you lack stamina as well. You're moving around too much, you make so many unnecassary movements. The hold you have on your weapon is too loose. Anyone could easily knock it out of your hand. Also-!"

"Okay! I got it!", you suddenly burst out as Xiao keeps on listing the things you're doing wrong in his eyes. It not only frustrated you, but it also made you feel so inferior.. to him and basically everyone else. You know that everyone starts out at some point. Everyone has to learn from the beginning. So why is he being so mean to you? Shouldn't he be more supporting of you as your boyfriend?

"I get it. You've made your point very clear."

You speak again, while Xiao just stares at you, mouth still hanging open. He didn't expect for you to raise your voice like this. You were usually so soft spoken.

You stared into each others eyes for a few more seconds, before you let out a sigh and placed your sword back into its sheat.

"I'm going home.", you announce as you go to grab your stuff. You collect everything and put it in your back, leaving without taking another look at him.

Suddenly, Xiao got the feeling that he made a huge mistake. Not only by "helping" you out with your training, but also as he let you go like this without having a talk with you, but something told him to let you be for the time being.

.....

Well... did he regret letting you just go like that. It has been almost a week since he last saw you, because you refused to call his name like you usually did on a daily basis.

And he was afraid of seeking you out himself, since he feared to only further sour your mood with an unannounced visit from his side. But he wanted to see you again so badly...

When the one week mark was reached without hearing anything from you, Xiao has had enough. He needed to make sure that you were okay. He was certain you would have called his name if you were in mortal danger, despite the argument at hand, but it's better to be safe than sorry. He needed to know you were still alive..

So, he teleported to your home, waiting for a few seconds in front of the door, gathering courage, before knocking on the door. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. He knocked again, but still nothing.

Xiao was about to leave again, scolding himself in his head, because of course you wouldn't open, you obviously didn't want to see him right now, when he heard noises coming from a bit further away.

Deciding to investigate, he followed the noises. And what he saw did shock him a bit..

He saw you, standing in a circle of training dummys, practicing different moves and tactics. He could tell that your hold on the blade has gotten better over the week you have been apart. In fact, everything he had critiqued about your skills seems to have improved...

Have you been training relentlessly this entire time??

This made him feel even more bad about this entire argument. He wanted to help you, not make you overexert yourself like this, just to prove something to him..

Deciding that it was finally time to talk, he approached you. You heard the footsteps coming your direction and turned towards them. Surprised to see Xiao there, you stopped in the middle of your session, facing him.

It was quiet for a few seconds as he arrived in front of you, and when you couldn't take it anymore, you decided to speak up again.

"What? Here to berate me even more?" It sounded way more sarcastic and hurtful than you had intended it to, and you saw Xiao flinch the slightest bit at your words, but you didn't back down from them.

"No..", Xiao answered weakly.

"I'm here to apologize." His words left you surprised, not expecting this at all.

"I didn't realize how much my words were hurting you. That was never my intention, (Name). I.. I'm just worried about you. There is a clear difference in skill, after all, but I shouldn't have been like this to you. I sincerely apologize for the way I treated you."

You have been with Xiao long enough to know two things. First, he was being completely honest with you. You could tell by the tone in his voice and the way he tried to look into your eyes, while also trying to avoid them at the same time, feeling embarrassed about being this vulnerable with someone.

Second, you knew just how hard it was for him to be honest and vulnerable with you. Saying this must have caused so much for him to do, yet he did it anyway.. for you.

For a second, you stood there and stared at him, before sighing and walking over to him, wrapping your arms around his body in a warm, comfortable hug. He did not hesitate for a second before doing the same, having missed this feeling dearly for the past week.

"I don't mind you helping me or giving me advise.. but maybe don't be so brash and insulting about it. Okay?"

He nodded, promising you to be more careful with his words from now on.

Wanderer

You sighed with relief as the Ruin guard in front of you collapsed and shattered into its parts, the cut on your side hurting a bit when you breathed, but it wasn't bleeding too bad, so the wound must not be too bad, either.

You were usually not that easy to surprise, but for some reason, you overlooked that particular ancient machine, resulting in it getting a hit on you before it was taken down.

Though, you were not the one responsible for taking it down. The actual reason was flying in from behind it, your boyfriend, Kuni. And while you were smiling at him, wanting to thank him for his help, he had a scowl on your face as he landed in front of you.

"What the hell were you thinking, Idiot? You would be dead now if it weren't for me being here!", he shouted as soon as he landed, not letting you get a word in.

You were taken aback by his harsh words and tone, staring at him, which only made him even more agitated.

"The hell? You don't even have an excuse! How can you be so fucking careless? I know you're weak but I wouldn't have thought of you being this stupid as well!"

You heard each and every single one of his words, and they all stung right in your chest. You were aware of the difference in power between you two, but that didn't mean you were incompetent with your polearm. You've trained long and hard to get to the point where you are now, and you were proud of yourself for it.

When you looked into his eyes again, you could see a bit of shock behind them, like he was surprised himself that the words actually left his lips.

You waited a few seconds, to see if he would apologize to you or take them back, but nothing came. Kuni's pride hindered him from doing the right thing..

"I see. If that's what you think of me, I won't be in your way again."

The words sounded cold when they left your lips, and Kunikuzushi flinched ever so slightly when hearing them, but you didn't react to it. Instead, you turned and walked away from him without acknowledging his presence any longer.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing? Where are you going?", he shouted after you, but no response. Then, he chased after you, but when he noticed that you were still ignoring him, he gave up on it, figuring that it would be best to leave you alone for the time being.

Surely, you would come crawling back to him soon enough... right?

....

....

Two weeks.

The incident has happened two weeks ago. And for those two weeks, he did not hear or see anything of you, whatsoever.

He was so sure that you wouldn't even survive a week without him before coming back and apologizing, but it seemed like he was wrong this time.

And he hated to admit this, even to himself, but.. he missed you. Missed your stupid, cheerful smile, your laugh and the way you always made his day better, just by spending time with him.

After about a week and a half, he began to think, that maybe, this time, he was actually the one in the wrong. That maybe, he took it too far with his words this time around.

Maybe.. he should be the one to apologize to you.

And yet, it took him a few more days to overcome his stupidly high pride and actually follow through with his thoughts.

Nahida, who knew all about the situation from Kuni himself, smiled and nodded proudly as the puppet went to leave the Sanctuary of Surasthana.

He first searched for you at your home, but you couldn't be found there. Then, he went on a stroll through the city, hoping to run into you along the way, but that too, proofed to be without success.

His last hope was the adventurers guild, and that someone hopefully has seen you there.

And luck was on his side this time, as some other members told him about how you have constantly been taking commission after commission for the past few days.

Feeling his worries for you rise again, he went to the locations given to him, hoping to find you there.

About an hour or so later, he spotted you at the location of the third commission you took, standing next to a defeated ruin drake while facing another one head on.

He had half a mind to rush over and take care of it for you, but something in him told him to let you handle it yourself. So he watched with bated breath as you easily took care of the machine, letting it fall to the ground while you remained completely unharmed.

That's when he really realized what his words might have caused for you. You are by no means a sheltered human, you're capable of defending yourself, and very well so.

As you were checking the defeated drakes for useful stuff, he came out of his 'hiding spot', walking directly to you. You noticed him approaching but chose to ignore him still. In fact, you've noticed his presence in the middle of the fight, but decided not to call him out and see what he would do.

When he arrived, he just stood next to you in silence for a while, watching you. But when you still wouldn't acknowledge him, he decided to speak up.

"(Name)... I... I'm sorry..", he mumbled quietly. He felt embarrassed, not used to acting like the bigger person, but he was in the wrong here, so he had to do this, no matter what.

The words out of Kuni's mouth caught you by surprise, your head swirling around to look at him, finally.

Kunikuzushi didn't know what else to say right now, so he stayed silent, hoping you would understand how difficult this was for him right now.

"..I'm not weak.", you answered him quietly as well, fully facing him now, but your posture and tone seemed a bit more open and calmer now.

"..I know."

He may not be the best with words, but somehow, you always understood what he wanted to say, anyways. It has always been this way between you. It was one of the many things he loved so much about you.

And that's how it was this time, too. He quietly thanked the Gods when he pulled you into his arms again, holding you for the first time in what had felt like an eternity.

[animeyanderelover]

can i request gojo with a darling who can touch him even when his infinity is on? (I think it's canon that he can never turn it off completely so that would be his first time actually having physical contact with someone)

Huge thanks to everyone who helped me with this request by explaining how exactly Gojo’s abilities work! I’ll start watching the second season as soon as all episodes are out for anyone who is wondering. I added a bit of stuff to make for an more interesting read.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, clinginess, obsession, touchiness, manipulation, gaslighting, paranoia, isolation, abduction

The first touch

🩵Gojo has been having his eyes on you even before he knew about your very special abilities. That basically means that you have this white-haired menace terrorising your daily life whenever he can. You almost have the impression that he can sniff you out among the many million people in Tokyo as he always finds you somehow. You're honestly just so fed up with him but are terribly introverted and feel too scared and awkward to explain to him clearly how you feel about his constant intrusion. You doubt that it would get through his head anyways so you silently endure the man's clingy, whiny and increasingly affectionate antics. Satoru knows no personal boundaries when it comes to you or rather he just decides to ignore it. You're just too cute~ Your unwillingness to stand up for yourself leads to ruthless abuse from his side.

🩵He has had it coming one way or another as he senses your growing frustration with his unbelievable clinginess and disrespect of your privacy. Worst is that he's at this point provoking you because he wants to see what you look like when you snap. So when your string of patience finally snaps as you feel his hands rubbing your shoulders and fawning over your current anger, you've had enough. You swing your heavy handbag at him in a moment of short and impulsive anger. Satoru doesn't move from his spot as he doesn't worry. His Infinity is activated so the handbag won't hit him. It'll easily just be seen as you missing your target, which is right now his handsome face. He sees your handbag moving closer to his face and just gives a small grin... At least until the fucking thing smashes against his face with full force, heavy with all of your stuff inside.

🩵Everyone who would know him, would probably laugh at him if they would see him in that moment. The almighty Satoru, stumbling back in shock before tripping over his own feet and landing onto the ground. That would have never happened if he would have been around anyone else. But he isn't around anyone. He's with you. Sweet, weak and lovable non-sorcerer you. Around you he never has his guard up unless he senses danger. Not because he underestimates you, although he definitely does, but because he feels like he can just be himself around you. That's why he's so thoroughly unprepared for this. For a moment he just sits on the ground in bewilderment, his face pulsing with pain from the impact it just had with your handbag. You start frantically apologizing as soon as you realize what you've done, flip a bit out when blood seeps out of his nose. You quickly rummage through your handbag as you search for something to stop the bleeding.

🩵Gojo on the other hand, who slowly starts coming back to reality after this major shock, touches his face in a daze. When he pulls his hand back, his fingertips are covered in blood, in his own blood. He looks at the red liquid like it is something he has never seen before in his life, as if it's something alien-like, before he jumps abruptly up. You flinch and shrink when he bents down to your height, brilliant blue eyes seemingly trying to look deep into your soul as he asks you quietly how you just did that. His voice is slightly strained with emotions you can't fully detect. You do see some of them swirling around in his eyes. Curiosity, shock, surprise but also something else. Something you haven't sensed in the silly and clingy man before. It unsettles you deeply. You don't even know what he just meant with his question just now and Satoru seems to realize that too as he pulls back, allowing you to breathe again.

🩵He leaves you a while after that incident and even if he tries to keep his normal facade up, you sense that something has startled him. If only you'd know. Satoru's mind is occupied with this accident the whole day. How were you able to do that? You're a non-sorcerer by all accounts and he didn't sense any cursed energy from you nor from anywhere around you. You were honestly expecting him to not show his face so soon again yet instead he rings at your apartment in the early morning hours. You're majorly confused and frightened by the fact that he seems to know where you live as you have never told him that yet Gojo pushes past you like he's been here a hundred times before. His eyes briefly fly through your current home, noting that it is quite small if you'd live with him, you could have everything you would want before he asks you the most ridiculous question you've heard all week. "Can you slap me?"

🩵You look at the man as if he has suffered from brain damage due to your handbag yesterday. How does one even respond to such a request?! Weirdest of all is that he looks at you with genuinely curious eyes. Can you slap him? Can you touch him with your own hands and everything you hold in your hands even if his Infinity is on? You hesitate a tad bit too long before he decides to provoke you a bit to anger you enough to do as he just asked you. It works as it is early morning, you've just found out that he knows where you lived and you're also still quite tired. You're in no condition to endure his teasing as he reminds you of embarrassing accidents he's had the joy of witnessing. The next thing he knows, he feels the impact of your hand against his cheek with more strength than he assumed. Maybe he underestimated your strength just a tiny, tiiiiny bit. Nevertheless though, as he rubs his stinging cheek his eyes are glued to you as a realization comes to him that changes his life. You, a non-sorcerer, somehow have the ability to seemingly nullify his Infinity... How?

🩵It must be the biggest irony of the universe. His darling is metaphorically and literally his one and only biggest weakness. A tiny part of him really has to chuckle about this but for the most part, Gojo suddenly grows by leaps and bounds more paranoid. He is the strongest in the sorcerer world and he couldn't even count on both hands how many people constantly pray for his downfall but can only do that as he is literally untouchable. With his situation he would already be under normal circumstances be overprotective and slightly paranoid that someone would instead resort to making you a target and use you against Gojo. He has to protect weak you for that reason against all the evil in this world. Yet with the knowledge that you can touch and by extension of that also harm him, a new fear inside of him grows. What if his enemies would decide to set you up against him to have you kill him? Or worse, what if you yourself would decide to rebel against him and would try to harm him?

🩵If you wouldn't have this special talent, he wouldn't be worried. Because then you simply wouldn't be able to harm him although your betrayal would still badly sting due to the lingering scars of Geto's betrayal. Yet with the added aspect that you can actually hurt him, Gojo's paranoia worsens. The image of you being his downfall, the only person he genuinely loves and trusts in this world, breaks him somehow. It isn't likely considering that he is far above you in all physical aspects and still has other abilites, not to mention that you would never sink that low, yet the fact that it is the tiniest possibility is enough to drive him a bit mad. You'd never do that, right? You love and care too much to ever think about killing him or even slightly harming him, right?

🩵You don't know where those sudden insecurities and his paranoia come from, you never imagined the Satoru you knew for a while to be so fragile underneath all his confidence and silliness. You wish that he could revert back to that side of him, even if it was possibly only a facade. Because now Satoru is downright suffocating and scares you even. You can't do anything to escape his tight grasp though and even if he doesn't hold you, you're still stuck in your new home. In his own huge mansion, installed with a security system that would never allow you to step outside unless he's with you. You will never leave his side, he won't let you. No one is allowed to find out about you and your one of a kind abilities. It is the bittersweetest irony ever. The warm touches of yours he so yearns for are the only ones who could also kill him.

[chaos-in-deepspace]

LADS Rafayel: Caviar and Wine | Halloween Special

So anyway, out of all of these fics, this one is the most suggestive. I couldn't help it, I just love him so much guys. His branching story is also coming out soon like let's goooo.

❧ Pairings: Rafayel x Reader ❧ Warnings: Suggestive themes, blood sucking, vampire reader ❧ Synopsis: You were thirsty, and Rafayel is curious what it feels like to be bitten by you. A win-win situation...right? ❧ Word Count: 2.7k

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Rafayel

Caviar and Wine

“Stupid straw…” Rafayel could hear your murmuring from the other side of the room. His gaze turned over to you, now distracted from his painting. He could see you sitting on the couch; in one hand held a metal straw with a sharp, pointed end, and in the other was a bag of blood from the hospital. You looked frustrated as you tried jamming the metal straw in, one that was no doubt dulled down after months of using it.

“You know, bags of blood weren’t made to be like juice pouches.” He interjected, giving you an amused smile. The frustrated look in your eyes turned to a full-on scowl as you popped your head up to look at your boyfriend.

“Well, how else am I supposed to be drinking these things?” you muttered, once again going to jab the straw into the pouch, only to realize it wasn’t going to work. You’d need to get scissors or another sharp object to puncture it so you could have your dinner.

“You could use your fangs.” He said, and you scoffed.

“No thanks, plastic tastes awful, especially from the hospital.” It’s not like you hadn’t resorted to that, but you weren’t an animal. You had tools for things like this nowadays, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to use them.

“It was just a suggestion,” Rafayel said as he got up and off his stool, approaching you. His legs easily glided him over to your location as he leaned in front of you and grabbed the bag. A small ‘hey’ left your lips as he did so until you noticed he was reading the bag.

“A-Negative.” He read, “I noticed a lot of these bags are either A-positive or A-negative.” Rafayel placed a hand on his hip, “Is that your favorite flavor?”

“Contrary to popular belief, the blood type doesn’t actually matter when it comes to taste. It’s the person it’s from and their emotional state during extraction.” You explained simply, reaching for the bag, but he now held it above his head, right out of your reach.

“So what emotions are in these bags?” he asked with a smirk, watching as you put your hands down to your thighs since you didn’t feel like attacking the man at the moment. You knew if you answered enough of his questions, he’d hand it back; the man was curious about other supernatural creatures. Clearly, the ocean didn’t have any vampires, so he would entertain your questions about Lemurians as long as you answered his vampiric questions.

“Generally anxiety, fear, calm, and on occasion, aroused.” You explained to him. The last part for him raising an eyebrow, not knowing exactly what you meant by that.

“Aroused…during a hospital blood draw?” he asked, and you nodded.

“The emotional state of humans varies so much that you never know how they’re going to respond to something like this. Besides, their emotional state doesn’t affect it as much when it’s in a bag like this. The hospitals have to put a chemical in the blood to stop it from coagulating, and it turns them all sour.” You frowned as you thought about it. It reminded you almost of milk that had gone off. Clearly, fresh blood was better, but you didn’t have the heart to hunt humans down.

You had dedicated too much of your life at this point, protecting them from other things that lurk in the darkness and, in the past fourteen years, the things that lurk in the broad day as well. You would’ve never expected in all your years of living that you’d be dealing with space riffs and wanderers, but you supposed the world had a lot of surprises for you. Being a vampire meant having to keep up with the times, no matter how strange they are.

“If it’s so disgusting, you could always ask me for a meal. I think I could be convinced.” Rafayel said, and you rolled your eyes.

“Rafayel, we’ve been over this. The ven-“

“Yes, yes, the venom. Feels like you just had an orgasm so that your victims don’t fight you off. I know.” He said, holding a hand out.

“Did you forget the thrall part?” you asked, knowing damn well that you had explained to him that if you bit him, he’d be a temporary thrall until the effects of the venom had worn off. Rafayel placed the bag onto the side table and then crossed his arms, a pout already on his lips.

“Aren’t I already your thrall at this point?” he asked, the small huff leaving him to blow some of his bangs out of his face.

“No, you’re not. You’re my living boyfriend who apparently likes to die on me and then pop back into my life after a couple hundred years.” You said, poking his forehead.

“I thought we had you forget all that at one point. How do you still remember?” he asked as if you also hadn’t explained that one.

“Maybe get your mind washing drugs and magic and give it to a human next time. Sorry, but mind games don’t work as well as vampires. We’re kind of known as the master of the minds, oh great Sea God.” You said the last part with a hint of teasing as you leaned forward to give him a kiss. He accepted the affection easily, as he always had done.

Ever since their first time in the temple underwater when he cupped your face and dragged you in for a desperate kiss. When he damned his people and made you pissed off for a couple hundred years until he popped back in as an assassin, you fell for him all over again. Even if he managed to piss you off in that lifetime as well, you still found yourself gravitating towards him in this new lifetime. He was a lot more laid back now as an artist, but you knew him better than anyone else. Behind the friendly, slightly bratty facade was a man who could hide emotions. A man who could trick the entire world into thinking he was unassuming. Being a vampire gave you an advantage; you were certain that if you had been reincarnated and didn’t hold your memories, you’d fall victim to his pretty smile and funny attitude. Thankfully, you knew better. It was one of the things you loved about this man.

“I’ll make sure there’s not a next time.” He said, grabbing the back of your neck and dragging you in for a kiss, “But seriously, in every life, you’ve always refused to feed from me. Do you not trust me?” he said, that cute pout now back on his lips.

“I don’t want you to be a thrall.” You murmured, taking his hand and playing with his knuckles.

He shot you a small, yet not angry, glare, “Are we forgetting the whole Lemurian bond thing?” he asked, grabbing your hand suddenly and placing it over his heart, “I’ve never been able to deny you in the first place. How would this be any different?”

He had a point. Ever since he gave you half his heart, he had been a thrall in a sense. Still, it made you uneasy. Despite being with him for three lifetimes now, there was still so much about Lemurians that you didn’t know. He never gave information unless you asked questions, and you had to know the right questions to ask, or else you’d never find out.

“So you really want me to make you into a juice box?” you asked, and Rafayel was now smirking, a subtle blush on his face.

“If it’s for you, sure.” He said with a shrug, “Anything for my beloved, as long as we do it the way I want to.” Now you were curious.

You paused for a moment, not knowing if you ever wanted to ask, but you had to, “How…did you want to do this then…?”

Rafayel changed his position and relaxed into the chair; he then pointed to his thigh, “Right here.” He knew exactly where his artery was, and your eyes widened, and you opened your mouth in shock.

“Absolutely NOT!” you said, almost screaming, “Do you even know how dangerous that is?” you asked, completely aghast at his suggestion.

“I trust you to not kill me…and if you did, then I guess I have something you tease you about in the next life.” He said, and you now groaned and shook your head.

“You’re the worst. The answer is no.” You settled on “Either your neck or wrist. Take your pick.”

“Please?” he was now pouting, “It’s for science.”

A groan escaped you; of course, he’d just want to know what it was like. You guessed you could indulge him if he really wanted it, and you’d be extra careful, but it still made you uneasy. “One minute.” You said, holding up a finger, “You set a timer for exactly one minute, and the moment it’s up, I’m done feeding from you unless you feel like it’s making you too woozy; then we’ll stop right away.”

This seemed to be enough for Rafayel as he smirked triumphantly, knowing he ‘won’ this argument. You watched as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over his lap before working his pants off. He then gingerly exposed his thigh and looked over at you with another cocky grin, “Come on,” he patted his leg, “Dinner time.”

“Woof.” You muttered as you grabbed him by his ankle. He let out a gasp as you got him into a lying position on the couch and crawled up between his legs. He now had the largest flush on his cheeks, which went down his chest and painted him in such a pretty light. You then peppered kisses along the exposed skin of his leg before moving it up a little to give yourself a better angle.

“Aren’t you going to…?” he started to ask, then looked down to see your fangs had come out, the retractable teeth sharp and glinting in the studio lights. You looked over at him once, then back at his thigh. He smelled absolutely intoxicating, something you’ve always wanted to bite into. Every fiber of your being told you whenever you were close enough to just go for it. He smelled so damn good all the time, and feeling the warmth of his blood pumping made you groan as you pressed your cheek against him.

He waited with bated breaths until finally. Finally, you sunk your fangs into him. Right away, the warmth of his blood began flooding into your mouth and down your chin. The cascades of it rippling down his leg and soaking into the blanket he held over his lap. It tasted just as you always imagined, like a fine caviar paired with a perfect wine. You could see how he clicked a button on his phone, setting a timer as you told him, and then he threw his head back.

Rafayel knew you told him it would feel good, but he hadn’t expected this. It felt like he was floating on a cloud after the initial pain subsided. He didn’t even register he was losing blood; all he could focus on was how fuzzy his entire body felt and how your lips pressed against him. His chest was heaving rapidly as you drank deeply from him, taking in every drop you could to fulfill your most basic of needs.

He swore he could stay in this moment forever, you between his legs and drinking from his thigh. His fingers twitched to run through your hair, but he held himself back. He couldn’t even hear the sound of his alarm through the pounding in his ears, but he did feel how your tongue poked out, licking at the wound as your saliva naturally closed it. All that was left were the puncture marks that were angry and red on him, and sure enough, a bruise would form in a day or two and mar the pretty, milky skin of his thighs. It’s not that either of you minded much; it was common for you guys to carry marks from one another.

You popped your head back up and looked over at him, your eyebrows now furrowed, “Are you…okay?” you finally asked, not knowing if you had overdone it. Rafayel was working on sitting back up, his entire body still shaking from the adrenaline of finally being bitten by his lover. Centuries of asking, and it happened just like that and ended far too soon. He ran his fingers through his hair as he looked at you with a lovestruck expression.

“M-more than okay.” His voice was now raspy as he cupped your chin, “Thank you.”

It was now your turn to blush, the fresh blood now in you making your cheeks light up, “Shouldn’t I be the one thanking you?” you asked, not able to look him in the eyes right now. Rafayel chuckled as his finger swiped some of the blood off your chin.

“I wouldn’t mind some gratitude, but…” he said as he shifted. You watched as he took his hand away and grabbed hold of a pillow from the couch, “That can wait till later. I think I need to rest after all that.” He muttered, putting the pillow over his lap.

It only took you a moment to realize why he had done that, and you barked out a laugh, “Oh my god…don’t tell me you.” His ears turned red as he knew he was figured out so easily.

“It was an involuntary response. How else do you expect me to react to you being between my legs?” he muttered, and you had the biggest, shit-eating grin on your face.

“I thought I sucked all the blood away from there, but it looks like I missed some. Besides, you were the one who suggested it.” You said, then looked down at his thigh, “However, we need to clean you up and get you something with sugar in it. I think we still have some orange juice in the fridge.” You muttered the last part. His thigh was still coated in crimson red blood, and before you could say anything else, you watched as his hand went to touch it.

“W-wait,” you said, holding out a hand, “It’s covered in.” You said, and then you watched as he began using it as finger paint. Your mouth widened as you watched him draw a little bat on his thigh, then right next to it, a fish swimming around it. It almost looked like a koi fish from this angle, but his fingers were still shaking, so the design came out more wobbly than it normally would’ve. Still, the way the bat was drawn and the fish reminded you a lot of yin and yang.

“Rafayel, are you seriously…” you began, and he smirked.

“Playing with your food, yes I am. You know, next time, I’ll need to keep a sketchbook and brush close by so we can save this.” He said, and you rolled your eyes.

“You want to paint with your blood? How edgy can you be?” you teased, then paused, “Wait…next time?”

“Now that I know what that feels like, I need to experience it some more. See, I’m completely fine.” He said, and while he did feel a bit colder and had the shakes, he was fine otherwise. Not to mention, he tasted absolutely divine, far better than any blood pack.

“Fine…but only once a month; I don’t need you becoming anemic.” You settled on, and Rafayel looked over the moon. So much so he was dragging you over onto his lap now and kissing you. The blood was still on your lips, smearing against him as he tasted himself on you. He licked at your bottom lip and groaned before parting.

“It’s not the best taste, but…” he muttered, and you let out a huff.

“It tastes better to vampires.” You explained, and he knew this. He knew every person tasted different, and their emotions could greatly affect things. He tasted like caviar and wine this time around, but maybe next time, he would taste like cotton candy. It really did depend, which was why vampires loved to taste several different people. It was the only way they could taste human meals again, in a sense.

“What did I taste like…?” he asked, and you rubbed your nose against his own.

“Kinda fishy.”

Thankfully, you were able to dodge his hand, which was going to smack the back of your head.

[solxamber]

Escape Route - Rollo Flamme x reader

You're stuck at a party that you frankly don't give a damn about. And Rollo Flamme looks like he would rather do anything else than be here, so you grab him and bounce.

Rollo Week D5!

The music is too loud, the room is too crowded, and the entire air reeks of expensive perfume and bad decisions. You stand at the edge of the ballroom, holding a glass of some overly sweet punch you didn’t ask for, trying to look invisible. Unfortunately, being at this stupid party is mandatory. Apparently, skipping it would have “reflected poorly on your reputation,” or so you were told.

You stifle a sigh. It’s exhausting, pretending to enjoy social events when you’d much rather be anywhere else—literally anywhere. That’s when you see him across the room: Rollo Flamme, standing stiffly near the wall, his face an absolute masterpiece of discomfort. He’s gripping a cup of coffee like it’s his lifeline, glaring at everyone in the room like they’re personally responsible for his suffering.

The sight is almost funny. Almost.

You sidle up to him, leaning on the wall next to him. “You look like you’re having the time of your life.”

Rollo doesn’t even look at you. “I could say the same for you.”

You both stand in silence for a moment, watching the partygoers dance, laugh, and chatter away like they’ve got no worries in the world. Meanwhile, you and Rollo look like two people attending your own funerals.

Finally, you break the silence. “Alright, here’s the deal. I need to leave this place immediately before I lose the last shred of my will to live.”

Rollo turns his head slightly, raising a brow. “And what exactly does that have to do with me?”

“I need an excuse,” you whisper conspiratorially. “A solid, believable excuse to bail. And you, my fellow sufferer, look like the perfect partner in crime.”

He gives you a skeptical look. “Why do I have to leave with you?”

“Because,” you say dramatically, “if I walk out alone, they’ll know I was just trying to escape. But if we leave together, we can say we’re conducting... uh...” You tap your chin thoughtfully. “A secret mission. Very important. Top priority.”

He rolls his eyes. “That’s absurd.”

“Exactly. No one would question it because it’s too ridiculous to make up.”

For a second, you think he might just ignore you and stay rooted to the wall. But then, without a word, he downs the rest of his coffee in one annoyed gulp. “Fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

You can’t help but grin. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

“That’s doubtful,” he mutters, but he follows you toward the exit anyway.

The cool night air hits you as soon as you step outside, and it feels like being released from a prison. Rollo falls into step beside you, both of you walking with the same unspoken goal: get as far away from that party as humanly possible.

“So,” you say, kicking a pebble down the street, “what’s your excuse for hating social events?”

“Do I need one?” Rollo replies flatly. “They’re crowded, loud, and pointless.”

You nod sympathetically. “Preaching to the choir. I swear, I spent half the time dodging someone who wouldn’t stop talking about their parents’ imported tea collection.”

Rollo snorts—an actual snort. You file that away as a win.

You glance at him as you walk, noticing how the moonlight softens his usually stern features. “Do you have to attend a lot of these things back at NBC?”

He sighs, pushing his hair back in mild frustration. “Far too many. It’s exhausting pretending to care.”

“Relatable,” you mutter, and he actually smirks, just a little.

The conversation flows surprisingly easily after that. You talk about everything and nothing—your shared distaste for crowded events, books you’ve both read, the unfortunate experiences you’ve had with overly enthusiastic party hosts. Rollo even lets slip a story about accidentally knocking over a punch bowl at a school banquet and watching it spill directly onto the headmaster’s shoes.

“No way,” you gasp between laughs. “What did you do?”

“Stood there and waited for the ground to swallow me whole,” he deadpans, but there’s a small, amused glimmer in his eye.

The walk back to Ramshackle feels shorter than usual, probably because for once, you’re enjoying the company. When you finally reach the dorm, you turn to him, feeling oddly reluctant for the night to end.

“Well,” you say with a grin, “thanks for being my getaway partner. I owe you one.”

Rollo shifts awkwardly on his feet, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself. He clears his throat, eyes flickering between you and the ground. “Actually... there’s something I wanted to ask.”

You blink. “Oh?”

He straightens his shoulders, as if bracing himself. “Would you... consider going out with me sometime? Officially, I mean.”

You stare at him, caught completely off-guard. Did Rollo Flamme just ask you out?

The vulnerability in his expression is subtle, but it’s there—hidden just beneath his usual seriousness. And honestly? It’s kind of adorable.

A smile tugs at your lips. “Are you saying tonight wasn’t already a date?”

His ears turn the faintest shade of pink. “That’s not what I—”

“I’m kidding,” you laugh, cutting him off. “But yeah. I’d like that.”

Relief washes over his face, and for a moment, he looks... almost happy. It’s a small change, but with Rollo, small is monumental.

You reach out and squeeze his hand, grinning. “You realize you’ve just signed up for more ridiculous excuses to skip social events with me, right?”

He exhales through his nose—a quiet, fond kind of exasperation. “I think I’ll survive.”

As you turn to unlock the door, you feel a sudden rush of warmth in your chest. Maybe tonight wasn’t so bad after all.

Before you step inside, you glance back at him one last time. “See you soon, Rollo.”

He nods, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in the slightest smile. “Goodnight.”

And with that, you slip into the dorm, heart lighter than it’s been in a long time.

It's a little shorter than usual because of the 1k event sowwy :(

Masterlist

[babyleostuff]

the grudge | jeon wonwoo

based on "the grudge" by Olivia Rodrigo (would highly recommend listening to it while reading)

genre | angst word count | 2.1k

author's note | i'm in love with GUTS (but she also broke my heart with this album) -> PART 2

I have nightmares each week 'bout that Friday in May One phone call from you and my entire world was changed Trust that you betrayed, confusion that still lingers Took everything I loved and crushed it in between your fingers

“I’m sorry. It wouldn’t have worked out either way.”

These were the last words you heard from the love of your life. 

Over the phone. 

You were supposed to have a date that day. He just came home from his schedules overseas, and you couldn’t wait to see him again. To hug him. To kiss him.  

It was a perfectly sunny day, kids were running freely around their neighbourhoods, happy about the upcoming weekend, and you were just as happy as them, getting ready with a childlike smile, probably putting too much effort in your appearance - you even put on the dress he bought you for your birthday, just to see his pleased smile. 

The picnic basket you prepared stood ready at your kitchen counter, filled with Wonwoo’s favourtie snacks and the wine you’d always drink on your stay-at-home nights. You were in the middle of rummaging through your room to find a blanket, when you heard a familiar noise of your ringing phone. 

With a grin on your face and a beating heart, you almost ran to the kitchen, hoping to see Wonwoo’s picture on the screen. And you did. 

What you didn’t know was that that phone call would crush your entire world in seconds. 

“Hey, baby. Are you ready? I can pick you up if you want,” One could tell how happy and excited you were by your voice only. 

“About that,” you never heard his voice being so monotone and… cold. 

Something was wrong, and you couldn’t help the way your hands started to tremble in anticipation of what was about to happen. 

It took exactly two minutes for Wonwoo to turn your happy day to one of the worst in your life. The confusion as the line went silent clouded your mind, your brain simply didn’t want to let you believe in what you’d just heard. 

It was a joke, right? He’d call you in a second to laugh about how he lost a bet to Mingyu, and that it was just an unfunny joke. Right? 

But as you stood there, in the middle of your kitchen, with your phone tightly clutched in your hand, there were no calls, no messages. Nothing. 

Your gaze lingered on the basket, and now, when you looked at it, it almost mocked you - seemingly laughing at how pathetic you were. 

Just like that, Wonwoo took everything you loved and crushed it in between his fingers. 

And I try to be tough, but I wanna scream How could anybody do the things you did so easily?

The next few days felt like you were living in a daze. You’d wake up and the first thing you’d do was to reach to the other side of the bed, expecting a familiar body laying there, which you’d cuddle up to - like you did every morning. 

“Wonwoo, I’m cold,” you muttered, your mind still asleep. But as you touched the pillow placed next to you, the bubble popped and you were brought back to reality. 

The reality where Wonwoo wasn’t by your side. 

“Five more minutes baby,” those were the words you’d never hear again. That’s when the silent tears would start to fall, dropping onto the empty cold pillow, and the thought of why? Why did he leave? 

Every morning you’d spend on thinking how the hell did all of this happen? When did he become so unhappy to break up with you over a single phone call? Was he that miserable? 

But the more you tried to find an answer the more unclear it all became to you, was it really that easy for him to end things with you? And it all made you want to scream - scream out of pain, out of frustration, out of the powerlessness you felt. 

You tried to go about your day as usual because maybe finding a routine in your new reality would help you heal your broken heart, but with every step you took, your mind reminded you that the one thing you looked forward to the most was gone. When you thought you’d finally taken one step forward, your thoughts brought you three steps back. 

“Here baby, let me,” you laughed, taking the wooden spoon from Wonwoo before he’d burn the eggs completely. “I think I should stick to making breakfast, and you to giving me my reward kisses,” grinning at him as you took his place at the stove. 

“Yeah, I think that would be the best,” he smiled, placing a peck on your cheek, as his arms wrapped around your waist. 

Those mornings would never come back. 

The arguments that I've won against you in my head In the shower, in the car, and in the mirror before bed Yeah, I'm so tough when I'm alone, and I make you feel so guilty

“Would you stop acting like a child and tell me what’s wrong?” You can’t remember a time where you’d raise your voice at your boyfriend, but lately it felt like this was the only thing you were doing. Fighting. 

“You know I’m not the only one in the wrong here, so don’t act like a saint,” Wonwoo threw back, acting as annoyed as you. The situation was getting out of hand, but neither of you did anything to stop it, if anything, you only added more fuel to the fire. 

“I’m trying my best, Wonwoo. I never complain when you leave for tours or schedules, or when you come home at night, when you don’t even have the energy to say good night.” 

“You know that that’s not the only issue here, baby,” the endearment felt like poison coming out of his mouth like that. It hurt you more than anything else. 

“It’s not, but it seems like I’m the only one trying here. Do you really want to act like a dick and let our whole relationship go to waste just because you can’t get your shit together?”

That was probably how things would have gone if you had the chance to talk to him. But you didn’t. Wonwoo didn’t try to contact you again, not even through a message or a friend. 

“What did you expect though?” You thought to yourself. He broke up with you over the fucking phone, something you’d never expect to happen with him. 

You’d spend endless nights in the shower picturing how you would have screamed at him, finally letting out how hard it was for you too - how hard it was to fall asleep in a cold bed, how painful was it to see him only over the phone, how all of the unread text messages because he was too busy to read them broke your heart - you’d do all of that just to make him feel guilty, even a little bit. 

You felt like you could do anything under the hot steam of water, but the second you entered your bedroom all of your toughness faded away, and you were left alone in the room that held so many, now painful, memories. 

I try to be tough, I try to be mean But even after all this, you're still everything to me And I know you don't care, I guess that that's fine

It would be a lie to say you didn’t miss him. Every ounce of your soul and body craved for his touch, begged for a second of time to see even a small bit of his perfect face, crying out to be held by his strong arms. 

And it didn’t help that everything at home reminded you of him, bringing back the beautifully painful memories of all of the times you’d spend together. 

All of his clothes that he never came back for were still in your closet - the hoodies that would keep you warm on cold December nights, when you’d cuddle under a blanket together to watch a movie, his favourite snacks in your cabinet, that he’d always munch on while gaming, the books on your nightstand, which he would read to you on sleepless nights, his gentle voice unburdening you from all of your worries. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to throw those stuff away. No matter how much looking at them hurt, you knew the second you’d throw them away you would break only more. 

You used to get so annoyed by the music that played in the background, as Wonwoo played Animal Crossing, staring at the small screen for hours, doing anything but focusing on you. Now you missed the goddamn sound, and you'd kill to have him next to you on your bed occupied by the cute animation of the game. 

You started to regret all of the times when you tried to persuade him to turn it off and do something with you instead, because yes, he didn’t pay direct attention to you, but he always had an arm thrown over your shoulder or one of his hands on your thigh, and he looked so adorable whenever he’d laugh. 

How pathetic would you be if you bought the game for yourself now? 

You realised that a lot of things that used to annoy you, you were missing now. Like his glasses that would always magically disappear. Wonwoo always forgot where he last placed them, and for some reason you’d always know where they were.

“What would you do without me, hm?” you laughed at his scrunched nose, as you placed his missing glasses on his nose, kissing it lightly. 

“I don’t know. Good thing I’ll have you forever then.” 

This felt like a dream now, like a distant memory that would never come back. 

Because it wouldn’t. 

As you sat down on the sofa under the blanket you used to share, you hesitantly, with a shaky finger clicked on the gallery app, opening another memory lane you weren’t sure you wanted to go down through.

As you scrolled through the album you made specifically for Wonwoo, past all of those months together, you couldn’t help but let out a broken cry. All of your dates, trips, family gatherings, parties - they were all there frozen in the photos, and every single one of them felt like an ice cold dagger to your heart, piercing it with a pain you’d never be able to describe. 

You looked so happy. Wonwoo looked so happy. 

You stopped at a picture that you could clearly remember taking. It was right after he came back from the States and you had one of your first dates after a while of being apart. 

Almost like that Friday in May when he left you. 

You decided to stay at home, to let him rest and get used to the time change, so you chose to play some video games that you always sucked at, but played nonetheless, because you knew how happy they made Wonwoo. You lost for the hundredth time and you couldn’t help but let out a whine out of frustration. 

“Are you happy? I lost again, this sucks!” you whined, throwing the controller on the table, before burying yourself in the blanket. 

“You almost had it baby, I promise you’ll win the next round,” he laughed, and reached for you under the blankets, caressing your back. 

“Mhm, sure,” you murmured angrily. You knew Wonwoo was smiling, and you were sure he was amused by your sulky behaviour, but that always meant one thing. 

“Will you feel better if I give you some kisses?” he asked, and giggled at the way your head immediately peaked up from under the blanket. “Yes, that will work, thank you very much.” 

But instead of leaning in as you anticipated, he lunged his body at you, caging you in a tight embrace of his strong arms and wide shoulders. At this point you both were a laughing mess, so you quickly reached for your phone and opened the camera. 

You stared at the photo now, with tears in your eyes and an empty heart. The way you were both smiling, so genuinely happy, made your heart clench with pain. His dark hair, that grew out enough to curl a bit at the ends, his glasses that slid down his nose, and his smile that you could stare at for days. 

You’ve lost all of it. 

It takes strength to forgive, but I'm not quite sure I'm there yet

You were sure that some day, in a distant future, you’d be able to forgive him, to look him straight in the eye and say “it’s okay, I forgive you.” and move on with a smile on your face. 

But you were not there yet. 

taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @eightlightstar @itza-meee @immabecreepin

[ajalholland]

Sephiroth x wife reader

(A little suggestive but not anything too bad)

Sighing heavily, Sephiroth shifts uncomfortably in his chair at the long, drawn-out SOLDIER meeting. He glances at the clock again for what feels like the hundredth time today. It shouldn't take this long to go over training schedules and mission reports...or should it?

Just barely managing to stifle yet another yawn, Sephiroth discreetly allows his gaze to drift across the room to where one of his fellow SOLDIERs, Genesis, sits slouched back in his seat, chin tucked down against the collar of his uniform shirt - definitely seeming more than just a little bored by the proceedings.

Meanwhile, (Y/n) was lounging on the couch at their apartment, scrolling through her phone. She occasionally glanced at the clock, knowing that Sephiroth, her husband, was likely stuck in a meeting. She couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, knowing how much he hates these types of things.

She decided to send him a quick text: Hey handsome, just thinking of you. Hope the meeting isn't too dull :)

Just as Sephiroth's eyes were starting to glaze over from boredom, he felt a vibration in his pocket. Fishing out his phone, he unlocks it to find a message from (Y/n). Reading it has him visibly perking up ever so slightly, a corner of his mouth turning up in a subtle smile. Silently grateful for the distraction, Sephiroth quickly taps out a response.

Ugh, these meetings are always so damn boring. Wish you were here to make things more interesting, sweetheart.

(Y/n) can't help but grin as she reads Sephiroth's response. She's glad to distract him from the tedium of the meeting, even if just for a moment.

Oh, I bet I could make things very interesting if I were there. Maybe a little game of footsies under the table to keep things spicy?

She replies with a smirk, knowing that it would likely frustrate Sephiroth in the best way possible.

Sephiroth almost chokes on the water he'd been sipping, quickly covering it up with a cough. He quickly glances around to make sure nobody noticed his momentary sputtering before responding.

Now that's just playing dirty, sweetheart. You know I can't resist your little games.

He glances down at the table, silently considering just how uncomfortable it would make him if she did try something naughty like that.

(Y/n) smirks as she reads Sephiroth's response, already imagining his reaction. She can just picturing the subtle flush on his cheeks, the way his eyes narrow ever so slightly, the twitch of his lip as he tries to keep his cool.

Mmm, but where's the fun in playing fair? And I think you'd find your self-control being tested in all sorts of fun ways if I were there. Maybe a strategically placed hand on your thigh? Or a whisper in your ear when no one's looking.

Sephiroth clenches his jaw tightly, silently cursing her for knowing exactly how to get to him. Even through text she has him so easily flustered and flustered is exactly how he does not need to be right now.

He glances around the room again, making sure there's still not a single person looking in his direction before replying.

You're a menace, you know that? I swear you're trying to get me all hot and bothered on purpose just to mess with me. It's working, by the way. So keep it up, sweetheart. I dare you.

(Y/n) can't help but laugh out loud at his response, imagining the frustrated pout on his face.

Mmm, maybe I am. Maybe I just love the way you get all flustered and frustrated when I tease you like this. It's just too damn cute. And you know I love a good challenge.

She smirked to herself, already planning how else she can make his life difficult from the safety of their apartment, miles away from the droning meeting.

Sephiroth can almost feel his resolve slipping further and further with each of her responses. He can practically picture that self-satisfied smirk on her face, like the cat who's caught the fish. It's infuriating and a total turn-on all in one.

He lets out a low, exasperated huff before replying. *You're going to be the death of me, you know that?*

Just then, Angeal, his other fellow SOLDIER, glances his way and raises an eyebrow curiously. "You okay over there, Sephiroth?"

Sephiroth quickly shakes his head, silently cursing himself for allowing his frustration to show. "Fine," he responds a little too quickly, clearing his throat before continuing. "Just... a bit tired and frustrated, that's all."

Angeal just hums thoughtfully, his gaze lingering for a few moments longer before returning to the meeting speaker. Sephiroth lets out a quiet sigh of relief, silently praying the rest of this damn meeting goes by quickly.

(Y/n) grins mischievously as she reads his response, loving the effect she's having on him. She can just picture him slouched in his chair, trying to keep a cool exterior while his mind races.

Oh but what a sweet, sweet death it would be, baby. And it's not my fault you make it so easy for me to tease you. You're just too damn cute when you're all flustered. Maybe I should up the ante a little..

Sephiroth grits his teeth, mentally cursing her and her effect on him. He can feel his cheeks growing warmer by the second, the thought of what she could be doing to him if she were here in person making his imagination run wild. He quickly types out his response.

Don't you dare. I have to stay focused on this damn meeting, babe. Don't distract me.

(Y/n) can practically hear the desperation in his voice as she reads his response. She can imagine the way he's probably shifting uncomfortably in his seat, trying to keep his composure. And it's all too easy to get him worked up like this.

Tsk tsk, aren't you supposed to be the model SOLDIER, all cool and in control? I'm just having a little fun with you, dear. Can't blame me for wanting to make this boring meeting a little more exciting.

(Y/n) can't help but laugh out loud again, her smirk growing wider. She's enjoying this little game they're playing way too much.

Oh, come on, baby. Don't tell me you're struggling to focus just because of a few naughty texts? I bet I could make it so much harder for you if I really tried. In fact, I might just have an idea...

Suddenly, Sephiroth's phone vibrates in his hand. He quickly glances down at the screen, silently praying it's not going to be anything too scandalous.

But then he sees exactly what she sent and his mind goes blank. All the blood in his body rushes straight to his face, turning his cheeks a deep shade of scarlet.

Sephiroth stands up a little too quickly, the scraping of his chair against the floor startling a few of the other SOLDIERs in the room. "Uh, Sephiroth, is everything okay?" Angeal asks with a puzzled look on his face.

Sephiroth clears his throat before responding. "Y-Yeah, I have an emergency. Uh goodbye." he mutters, his voice sounding strangled. He can feel Genesis's gaze boring into him, the other SOLDIER silently raising an eyebrow in suspicion. Sephiroth quickly turns and strides out of the room, phone still clutched in his hand.

Finally, he reaches their apartment complex and takes the stairs two at a time. He reaches her floor in what feels like record time, knocking on their door, too lost to just pull out his keys, with an urgency that borders on desperation.

(Y/n), who had been lounging on the couch waiting for his arrival, jumps up at the sound of the knock and hurries to the door. She can already feel a rush of excitement and anticipation, knowing that he must be riled up from their little game during the meeting.

She opens the door, a sly grin on her face as she sees him standing there. "Well, well, well. Look who's here, all puffed up and frustrated. Did I tease you a little too much, baby?"

Sephiroth practically growls as he barges into the apartment, shutting the door forcefully behind him. His entire body is taut and tense, his breathing labored from both his run here and the mounting frustration. His eyes darken as they land on her, the sight of her smug, satisfied expression only further fueling his irritation.

"You have no idea," he manages to mutter through clenched teeth, stalking towards her with a mix of frustration and desire.

(Y/n) quickly backs away from him as he approaches, her smirk faltering slightly as she realizes just how worked up he really is. Her mind races for a way to diffuse the situation, but his intense gaze and the raw frustration pouring off of him make her falter. For once, she realizes she may have gone a little too far.

"Alright, alright, maybe I took it a little far. I didn't really mean to get you *that* flustered, dear. Just thought it would be a bit of fun, you know?"

Sephiroth closes the distance between them, trapping her against the wall with one arm on either side of her head. He leans in close, his breath hot against her ear as he speaks, voice low and gravelly.

"A little fun, huh? Is that what you call making me practically lose my mind back at that meeting? I almost ruined my reputation because of you, sweetheart."

(Y/n) can feel her heart racing as he pins her against the wall, his voice sending a shiver down her spine. She swallows hard, trying to regain some semblance of control.

"Okay, okay, I admit it. Maybe I went a little overboard with the flirting. I didn't mean to make you lose your cool like that...though I can't say I didn't enjoy watching you squirm a bit," she admits, trying to soften the blow with a sheepish smile.

Sephiroth's eyes narrow, his body still pressed against hers against the wall. He's trying to keep his frustration in check but it's difficult given the state she's left him in.

"You think it's funny, do you? Sending me naughty texts? It's a wonder I didn't lose it in front of Angeal, too. I was already having a hard enough time when I got your last text. You want a baby, uh?"

(Y/n)'s cheeks flush a deep red as she realizes the true extent of what she's done. She had thought it would be just a bit of harmless fun, but now she sees the effect it's had on him.

"I... I didn't mean to make it so difficult for you, honey. Really, I didn't. I just thought it would be a bit of fun, but I guess I got carried away," she admits, her voice quiet.

She can feel the tension in the air between them, the mixture of his frustration and desire palpable.

Sephiroth takes a deep breath, forcing himself to regain some control. Even in his frustrated state, he can see the contrition on her face and his irritation softens.

"You really are a menace, you know that? You make it impossible to think straight, especially when we're miles apart."

He leans in closer, breath ghosting over her ear as he speaks.

"But I'm here now, and I think it's time you take responsibility for getting me all riled up like this."

(Y/n) can feel her pulse quicken at his words, his hot breath against her ear making her shiver. She knows she's in for it now, that Sephiroth is going to take his frustration out on her in the best way possible.

"Yeah? And how do you plan to do that, dear?" she manages to reply, her voice a little breathless.

Sephiroth grins, a dark, almost predatory look in his eyes. "Oh, I have a few ideas."

He leans in closer, his body pressing even tighter against hers, trapping her against the wall. His hands slide down to her hips, holding her in place.

"You're getting pregnant tonight," he murmurs, his lips brushing against her ear.

(Y/n)'s heart nearly skips a beat at the possessive tone in his voice, the way his hands grip her hips tightly. She can feel the heat radiating off of him, the tension between them building to a near boiling point.

"Okay" she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

 End

[fish-ash-and-fish-bones]

I need to rant about Zukka and fanfics for a minute

I’ve seen multiple fics changing Sokkas canon blue eye colour to brown and at least one author said the reason was because brown people can’t have blue eyes and?!?!? not only is that racist but it’s also untrue! Not to mention this is a character in a world with actual spirits and people who can control the elements and THAT is what you’re focusing on?? Sokka has BLUE eyes people!

Zuko is almost always portrayed as a bit dumb and while I agree he has his moments he is actually really smart?? the guy successfully tracked the gaang around the world, was a master swordsman and martial artist, could infiltrate inescapable prisons and military bases easily and without getting caught, was well versed in Avatar history and lore, military tactics ect. He was a royal and was tutored all his life and people make him dumb in fics because he is dramatic and impulsive. He may not think things through but he IS smart

I’ve read a lot of fics that make sokka a swordsman on par of even better than zuko even though he had like two days of training. Sokka is very talented but two days could NEVER bring sokka onto Zuko’s level. Cmon guys

The fact that Sokka and Katara throwing around the word ashmaker like is isn’t canonically a slur and Aang being okay about it/not stopping them. Also Zuko not calling them out on it. I think Aang lets them say the slur in the series too but still.

ZUKO WAS BURNED AND BANISHED AT 13!! Not 14! Not 12!! HE SPENT 3 YEARS AT SEA!! Not 2!! My guys!! I don’t get how y’all mess that up!

I think this one is the worst and if frustrates be so much:

ZUKO DID NOT BETRAY KATARA!!! Zuko and Katara shared a moment in the catacomb when they talked about their mothers but in no way did Zuko say or indicate that he had switched to the Gaangs side. Katara assumed he switched sides despite her knowing that Zuko’s loyalty and personality at the time would not allow him to and then when Zuko did exactly what was in line with his past actions she decided he betrayed her. Plus at the western air temple she was deliberately cruel to him under the guise of protecting the gaang even though her “protection” was just her insulting him constantly. Like, I know she’s 14 but there were 3 other people who could’ve told her to knock it off and there’s no way Sokka actually thought Zuko betrayed Katara because he’s smart enough to understand that Katara as assumptions never equaled to betrayal

[genderqueerdykes]

I’ve seen more and more people being affected by the pornbots in the trans tags. Does it annoy you too?

And just as a general check how are you doing?

that's actually a very good question- yes, it does

it's been happening to almost every queer tag but it's been particularly rough in the trans tags. trans people posting erotic photographs of themselves isn't something that bothers me, what bothers me is exactly what you mentioned, the bots. i can easily block certain tags to not see trans erotica but the porn bots just don't care

whenever i go into a tag like "trans" or "transgender" i'm looking to hear about others' experiences with being trans, look at some trans art, share other people's experiences and journeys with transition, and so on. i don't want to see random porn everywhere that has nothing to do with trans people especially. tumblr did not achieve anything in trying to ban porn because now its just everywhere again

and its not even good like at least in the past a lot of it was by trans people for trans people. now it's almost entirely scams. they existed before but they're way worse now. i report and block them whenever i'm able to but it's a nightmare. as someone on the asexual spectrum, but sex positive, i just don't want to see stolen images of random girls. again i don't mind if it's porn for and by trans people, especially because that can easily be blacklisted, but it's impossible to blacklist the porn bots because they don't play by the rules

trans porn is generally well tagged so that you can easily block that from showing up in your tag searches and dashboard, whereas the bots are trying to avoid getting blacklisted. it's frustrating. i'd rather people look at trans erotica instead, at least it would be on topic. this is just taking people's attention away from trans sex workers and it fucking sucks

also thank you for asking! i had to rest and drink a lot of fluids after the gastric emptying study yesterday. i have my consult for gallbladder removal surgery in 2 days, which i am looking forward to. i had no idea that was such a big issue, there were a lot of guesses being made before i finally got a CT scan. most doctors were humming and hawing about how my insurance "won't" pay for those scans... but it does. if they go about writing the referral and getting diagnostic information, my insurance pays for those types of scans. it's not just x-rays my insurance covers, but doctors assume it won't be covered due to me having insurance for very low income people (medicaid)

after surgery i'll have to talk to someone about my liver. i'm not sure how long i have to recover from gallbladder removal surgery, but we shall see. other than that i'm doing alright, just navigating the symptoms that's been causing most nights out of the week, reading some queer books i've borrowed from the library, talking with my neighbors, and resting. my neighbors are also disabled and are very kind, well, at least my immediate neighbors, and one at the end of the street, as well as an older guy who takes walks up and down the block very often. these people are all very kind. i like talking with them and hearing about their days.

i also give them any meat the food bank accidentally sends me which is good because i hate the idea of just throwing it out. i've been able to cook a lot of very nice meals lately now that i have some more pots and pans and cooking tools. i lost a lot of mine while moving but i finally have enough to cook reliably and more than one thing at a time :) i was given a lot of brown rice from the food bank because i can't eat meat and a lot of their items contained meat and i've found i like brown rice a lot, honestly more than white rice. it takes eons to cook but it's worth it, especially if you add soy sauce, sesame oil, or other seasonings into the water as it cooks

thanks for checking in! i appreciate you, take care

[littlekohai77]

Pole vault

🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: reader being insecure and having a horrible self image, colorism cause Asian beauty standards are toxic. Reader mentioned to not be as white as A4 paper. Reader mentioned to be chubby and short. Reader lowkey checking hyun-su out.

It always infuriates you when you react to something in a manner that's slightly... Humiliating. When you can't hide how much you're affected. Whether that be for a positive or a negative thing.

You hate that all your emotions show up on your face. You hate that people can read you so easily. That people know exactly what cards to play to get to you.

That's exactly what you had thought when Hyun-su first approached you.

You were freshly dumped out of a toxic friend group when he'd met you.

At first you didn't pay him much mind. He was irresistible, yes. But... You knew he'd never like you. He was literally wanted by every girl in school. All they had left to do to get the point across was physically hunt him down.

You weren't conventionally pretty, skinny or social.

You didn't have too many friends in high school, just a senior and his little sister to hang around. And of course, the kind janitor.

Nobody really wanted to hang out with you, and... It might've been your fault. Partly.

You had been quite guarded and hostile during your freshman year, after getting bullied in middle school. Which drove people away. Cause aint nobody got the time to climb that wall.

But he did.

You two didn't even met all too often, small run ins at the convenient store that happens to stock your favorite drink and happens to be close to his school.

Passing by each other on the way to home. You'd be leaving a little late, cleaning up the club room with Eun-hyuk.

As soon as you'd step out the gate, you'd bump into him. Coincidentally. So many times... The timing so perfect you'd almost be convinced that he was waiting for you.

But of course he wouldn't. You two don't even know each other.

But he always tried to strike up conversations. At first, it was annoying. Painfully so, to be having to respond to small talk. Your head aching.

You had acted rudely quite a few times. Which he either laughed off, stayed quiet for 5 minutes, or give a rebuttal. The latter would ensue a verbal fist fight.... A one sided verbal fist fight. With you delivering the most hints and him walking it off.

You didn't understand what made him stick around. You wouldn't hang out with yourself either, than.. Why?

But then he began to grow on you. You began to somewhat look forward to it. At the time you'd blamed it on the made up fact that he'd become a part of your routine.

But now that you look back on it, that fondness was probably you finally beginning to accept him as a friend.

"Why that face? "

"What do you mean? " you responded, wiping away the obvious frown you had previously. Damnit, he has sharp eyes.

"Your face, are you.. Upset today? " his head tilted to the right, resembling a curious puppy.

"Maybe... " you shrugged, not really wanting to elaborate.

"Why? " he leaned in closer to your side.

Which made you a bit annoyed...or rather flustered "What why? "

"Well.. Tell me. "

"You... Wanna know? " you sounded surprised. And your surprise seemed to have made him surprised. As if he didn't expect that people don't actually wanna hear other's problems.

"I wanna. " he vehemently nodded his head, his fluffy hair bouncing in a way that made your fingers twitch at your side, wanting to touch it.

"Well... I've been.. Failing chemistry lately.. " you looked ahead at the road and slightly sped up your pace.

"Mhm.. "

"And... It's really taking a toll on me. "

"But why? "

You released a sigh through your nose in frustration, even if he grew on you, there was still a part of him that you hated, his 'why's that would dig into the parts that you didn't want to discuss, the parts that made you squirmy. Embarrassed.

"What do you mean 'why' ???!!? "

"Why do you care about your grades so much? "

"I... Isn't that normal? To care? " your attempted to deflect.

"Well... Yeah but.. Usually that's when your parents also care. And... It seems you dad doesn't necessarily? "

"... You know my dad? "

"Ran into him thrice. "

"Oh well.. You won't get it. " and that was your dismissal. The one thing he couldn't yet break past in this acquaintance like relationship that you share, that existed only on the road to home. And it upset him, that much you could gauge from his pout.

Silence ensued

"...."

".... "

"Okay... Maybe I won't" he muttered with a sigh of defeat. Clutching the strap of his book bag and bouncing it higher on his left shoulder.

More silence.

But not meaningless silence.

He was scratching the back of his head, and pulling at his bangs. Seemed like he had his thinking cap on.

"But, how about this? I'm pretty okay at chemistry so.. I'll tutor you? "

"For how much? "

"Uhm.. I dunno..free? "

You were surprised he'd be that generous.. But maybe it's not that surprising considering he's talking to you.

"You're not taking anything? "

"Not that I can think of... What are you willing to give? "

"Uhmm... Not money? "

He gave you a feigned glare of judgement.

"Cheapskate."

Oh... Had it struck 6:00 pm already? Seems like it's time for your routinely one sided verbal assault.

"Says the one who buys nearly expired bread. Thinks he's all that with that Vector lookin ass hair cut. Wearing above the knee shorts like a kindergartener but I guess it suits you since you got the mentality of one too. Would explain why you got spinach in your teeth-ALSO you said you don't want money, so that shouldn't even matter! You're just tryna get under my skin at this poi-"

"Tutor me in physics. "

"Huh? "

"Tutor, me, in, physics. "

"You're bad at physics of all things? " now it was your turn to be judgemental.

"Yeah, I know. Tragic that someone as perfect as me can have imperfections. But I believe that makes me all the more charming!!✨" the way he brushed his hair back and stepped under the street light made you want to roll your eyes into the next dimension.

"Stop acting like Tamaki. "

"Thought you liked him? " he grins that infuriatingly charming grin and wiggles his eye brows teasingly.

"That was a horrible impression. " you say after a feigned gag.

"Ehhhh whatever. Gimme your number. "

"Huh? "

"For the tutoring session? I mean, if it's like at your house and mine, I'm fine with that too... Not that I know your address so.... Might need that. "

Of course... He'd never ask for your number.

A realization hits you and you suddenly start stomping off. BECAUSE WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CARE ABOUT HIM ASKING FOR YOUR NUMBER?? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAD A CRUSH ON HIM OR ANYTHING??? BRO IS YOUR SELF ESTEEM REALLY THAT LOW THAT YOU'D GET AFFECTED EACH TIME A PRETTY BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE WITH YOU????? AJHZJAHXJNSZN

"OIIIII! WAIT! WHAT HAPPENED??!! WHAT THE HEL-"

He yelled, running after you. Grabbing your hand and turning you around, and your forehead hit his chin.

"Ouch! Ahhhh... " he mutters rubbing it. You didn't apologize, head too busy spinning in circles. His hold wasn't that strong. It was firm.. But you could definitely break it off had you tried.

"What's the matter? I mean, if it's too much.. Fine we can forget we ever agreed to that. I just... I just wanted to help....... "

Silence from you.

"Look I.... I wasn't trying to upset you so like... I'm sorry if I did... Can you... " he looks into your eyes pleadingly and all you give him back is silence.

"Can you at least tell me so that... So that I can properly apologize? " he was nervous. He looked like he was an inch away from whimpering like a kicked puppy. And you slowly began to come back from your disassociative state.

"No it's... Uhhh.." Why's he looking at you with those eyes...

"Yes? "

"Sure I'll give you my number... And... Anddd... "

"And? " and then you kinda just rambled off without thinking because you'd become hyper aware for his hand around your wrist and his warm touch against your cold.

"Andddd.... Annddd we can't do it at home... They'll... Probably assume that we're.... We're.... "

"Dating? "

"Yeah... That... " you nodded, staring at his lips and nose. Too afraid to look into his eyes. Too afraid that you'd crumble to your knees at the sight. At the touch of him against you. Why does it feel so nice? It's like you're floating. It's making you dizzy. Because it's him, Hyun-su. The boy you used to watch play from your window when you were 9. The one you'd leave random things for on his doorstep. Hoping at least he'd notice. He didn't have to like it. Just acknowledge them. He probably doesn't remember the many times you've met before. Because you were a nobody. A nobody that he was now standing in front of. Holding onto. His was so close. You could almost smell his cologne and a hint of sweat. His body was so close. Heat literally radiating off of it. You could make out the muscles under his shirt. God you were such a pervert.

"Hey... You okay? " when that sweet saccharine voice of his flows into your ear, you feel like you might just collapse. Fuck, when did his face get so close? Your knees are starting to buckle and you hope that you crash into his chest when you fall. So that you can hear if his heart is beating as fast as yours. Maybe that'd break this fantasy of yours. Because who'd want to be with you. You were chubby. Your inner thighs brushed against each other when you walked, you got tummy rolls when you sat down. You were short. Your skin wasn't pale. You didn't have any particular talents. Your only sense of self worth based on your scores-

"Y/n?? " now both his hands were on your cheeks, squishing your face slightly. His worried yet angelic face so close you felt like you were suffocating, heart in your throat.

A car horn broke the haze.

You peeled off his hands and continued walking.

After a few paces you uttered a number as he stayed behind, beyond confused.

"xxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

"What? "

"My number? "

"Oh... Could you repeat that? " he quickly pulled out his cellphone. Growing confused when you picked at your nails.

"Hmmm... I don't know... My throats kinda dry... A soda would help me speak... " you thought he probably would give up after this.

"ALRIGHT! LESSS GO!! ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*"

He was so overjoyed that he almost dropped his phone. Grabbing onto your hand and running across the street so fast that you almost got whiplash.

His touch was still electrifying. But not like before, where it was to the point that you wanted to squirm away.

When you two arrived at the convenient store, you were the one to break off his hold. As you could feel your lips quirking up. And you didn't want that. You didn't want to be vulnerable in front of him. Not yet.

He was nice. Probably the nicest guy you'd ever met and you didn't want that illusion to be broken too quickly. So let him be cautious, let him think he doesn't affect you.

As you left the convenient store, sipping your soda and his phone in hand, dialing in your number.

You took a glance at his lock screen before returning it. "You're such a basic bitch. "

"Heyy!" He just pouted in return.

Silence again...

But...

Oddly.. Okay?

Comfortable even.

"Did you mean that when you said there's spinach in my teeth? "

Of course he never shuts up. And you loved him for that. Because he didn't just climb that wall. He fucking pole vaulted over it.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

I might've portrayed him wrong but I wanted to give off the feeling that he was really comfortable around reader. And also this is before he got bullied so... Yeah. Probably didn't portray reader's insecurities well enough either. This is so cringe god help me I just wanna get to monster part.

Masterlist

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[ilovejungwonandhaechan]

a little knack — yjw pt. 2

read part one here!

pairing: acadmic rival!jungwon x academic rival!reader

🎧 - paper tulips by gallant

note: jungwon is the student council president and the salutatorian (2nd rank) and reader is the valedictorian (1st rank). there's just a lot of tension in between them tbh

a/n: part two!! not proofread bc i’m lazy lol

wc: 789

fic under the cut!

jungwon stood there, watching you leave with a mix of frustration and something he couldn't quite place. his mind raced, trying to process what had just transpired between the two of you. he paced back to his desk, running a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"damn it," he muttered again, more to himself this time.

the room felt strangely empty without your presence and your sharp retorts echoing in his mind. he sank back into his chair, trying to focus on the paperwork in front of him, but his thoughts kept drifting back to you. he couldn't deny the electricity that sparked whenever you two clashed, the way you effortlessly got under his skin.

with a sigh, jungwon closed his eyes briefly, replaying the confrontation. he realized there was more to your interactions than just academic rivalry or witty banter. there was a tension, a pull between you that was undeniable and unsettling. he wasn't sure if he wanted to confront it or ignore it altogether.

minutes passed, and Jungwon finally reopened his eyes, staring at the door through which you had exited. he couldn't shake off the feeling that things were about to change between you, whether he liked it or not.

jungwon’s thoughts continued to circle back to you throughout the day. he found himself distracted during meetings, absentmindedly flipping through papers without really registering their contents. your presence had an uncanny way of lingering, like an unresolved chord in a melody that refused to fade.

as the day wore on, he couldn't help but replay your last encounter in his mind. your confidence, your teasing words—they echoed in his thoughts with a clarity that surprised him. he had always prided himself on composure and control, yet you seemed to effortlessly dismantle both whenever you crossed paths.

by evening, when the student council room was finally quiet, jungwon leaned back in his chair, rubbing his temples. he couldn't deny the attraction simmering beneath the surface, nor could he ignore the frustration that came with it. he was used to being in control, but with you, he felt like he was constantly teetering on the edge of something he couldn't quite define.

the sound of footsteps outside interrupted his reverie. he looked up to see you standing in the doorway again, a wry smile playing on your lips. 

"back for more, jungwon?" you teased, your tone a blend of challenge and amusement.

he hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to respond. "i... didn't expect to see you again tonight."

"surprise," you replied, stepping closer. "can't get rid of me that easily."

jungwon studied you, his expression guarded yet curious. "what do you want?"

you shrugged casually, taking a few more steps into the room. "maybe i just wanted to see if you're still mad."

"mad?" jungwon raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "why would i be mad?"

"because i seem to have a knack for getting under your skin," you remarked, your eyes meeting his challengingly.

he chuckled softly, the tension between you palpable. there was a pause, a charged silence hanging between you as you stood mere feet apart. Jungwon's mind raced with conflicting thoughts—should he push you away or give in to the magnetic pull drawing him closer to you?

finally, you broke the silence, your voice quieter now, almost contemplative. "do you feel it too?"

unspoken words filled the room as he searched your eyes, seeing a vulnerability beneath your confident facade. he knew exactly what you were referring to. "yeah."

the admission hung in the air, heavy with unspoken implications. without another word, you closed the distance between you, standing so close that jungwon could feel your breath against his skin. his heart raced as he hesitated for just a moment before leaning in to meet your lips with his own.

the kiss was electric, a rush of conflicting emotions and desires intertwining in that singular moment. jungwon found himself losing track of time, of everything except the sensation of being with you, of finally surrendering to the undeniable chemistry that had simmered between you for so long.

when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, your eyes locked in a silent conversation of their own. jungwon couldn't help but smile, a genuine warmth spreading through him despite the lingering tension.

"i guess you're not leaving just yet," he murmured, his voice husky.

you shook your head, a playful glint in your eyes. "not a chance."

as you stayed there together, the air around you seemed to shift, carrying with it the promise of something new, something neither of you had anticipated when you first crossed paths that day in the student council room.

tagging @en-chantedtomeetyou @avaleyshin

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Not Like This

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: You’ve kept your feelings for Anthony in check for a long time. That all changes when he crosses that line himself. Can you move forward together, or will this drive you apart?

Warnings: Foreplay, Heavy Petting, Fondling, Plenty of other good stuff

Word Count: 6.4K

Author’s Note - @colettebronte what would I do without you to read over all my tippy-tappies. Thank you so much.

____________________________________________

Lies! 

It was always a lie with him. How were you ever supposed to get over your trust issues when the person you thought you would never have to second guess constantly led you astray? His word was supposed to be as good as gold. If you couldn’t rely on the local weatherman, then how could you possibly be expected to rely on anyone else? 

Staring out your living room window, you scowled at the rain pouring from the sunless sky. This day was far from the promised clear skies with a light breeze. It was the exact opposite, and it laughed in the face of all of your scheduled plans. Plans that you had been looking forward to for days. Plans that weren’t easily rescheduled due to the company they required.

Anthony was almost impossible to pin down these days. When you met at uni, you were both unencumbered, free to do exactly as you pleased. There weren’t any responsibilities lurking over you like a wet blanket. If he called you at 1 AM on a weeknight you could talk to him about nothing for two hours until he would finally fall asleep. If you invited him out at the last minute to grab a bite to eat, he’d drop whatever he was doing and meet you at the hole-in-the-wall pub you loved to frequent. But you weren’t at uni anymore. You were both proper adults now. Well, at least he was. You were giving it your best effort, but still found yourself flailing most of the time.

You missed him. You missed the way things used to be. The easy laughter and the companionship. The sense of being understood and feeling less alone. You missed arguing with him over stupid things that didn’t matter. You missed spending Sundays with his chaotic family, and watching him transform into a completely different person in the presence of his mother. And even though you shouldn’t, you really, really shouldn’t, you missed the ache in your chest when he smiled at you. The heat that blushed your skin whenever he touched you. Even though you knew those touches were never meant as more than friendship.

Those were dangerous feelings. Feelings that you had murdered a long time ago. You had to, there was no other choice. You were friends and nothing more. If you let yourself imagine any other reality for too long, it would have ruined it all. Anthony was the kind of man that it would be easy to love, and that was a trap that you weren’t willing to walk into. 

But that didn’t stop you from missing him. It didn’t stop you from the ugly jealousy you felt when you took a back seat every time he got a new girlfriend. It didn’t stifle your rage when one of those aforementioned women mishandled the fragile, loving heart that he liked to keep hidden below the surface. His current infatuation was the worst offender of them all. Siena…

The on-again off-again nature of their relationship was exhausting to watch. He wasn’t perfect, he made his share of contributions to their toxic dynamic, but never in your life had you seen him allow himself to be treated this way. She held him under some sort of spell that you would never understand. The man that you knew, normally confident to an obnoxious level, was reduced to crippling insecurity when they were in one of their down-swings. Unfortunately for everyone else, that insecurity usually presented itself as frustration and anger, making him unbearable to be around at times. 

That’s normally when you lost him to his other mistress - work. You would never begrudge him the success that he had built for himself. You were proud of him for everything that he had achieved. Running a thriving company at the age of thirty-two was no small feat. It was just disappointing when he buried himself there, once again leaving you at the mercy of his robust schedule. You were forced to live on whatever meager scraps he had left to give. 

Which brings you back to now. Your throat burned with the effort to hold back your tears when you read his easily predicted request to reschedule.

A: It’s really coming down out there. Can we maybe do this when there isn’t a real threat of drowning?

You rolled your eyes. He could be so fussy sometimes. You would have been willing to be soaked to the bone if it meant spending some time with him. Not ready to give up just yet, you sent an alternate solution.

Y: Coward… Maybe we could go visit your mum instead. I haven’t seen her for ages. We could bring dinner.

His answering response took longer than it should have. Your stomach twisted in knots while those three little dots taunted you. You were expecting paragraphs, but what you got instead…

A: Don’t be mad…

Your heart sank. This didn’t bode well.

Y: Too late. That definitely shouldn’t have been your opening statement if you had any hope of avoiding my wrath. Now I’m primed for conflict. Explain…

You tried to deflect with humor to hide the true extent of your disappointment.

A: Good to know. I’ll adjust my tactics for the next time I fuck up… 

A: Violet Bridgerton would be overjoyed to see you. You should go… I just can’t come with you.

Y: Uh oh. Why not? Did you piss her off again? I told you to dial it back with the mansplaining, Ant. 

A: I DO NOT MANSPLAIN!

A: I just know a lot about a lot. I offer my wisdom where I can with simple and efficient instruction. It’s called being helpful.

Y: Did you just mansplain mansplaining to me? You’re unbelievable…No wonder your mum doesn’t want to hang out with you.

A: Good God, you’re bratty. My mother adores me. 

Y: Then why can’t we go visit her tonight?

A: Well… when it started pissing down rain I assumed we wouldn’t be able to go hiking. I knew you wouldn’t mind postponing for more sensible weather, so I made plans for my evening. You deserve the day you had your heart set on, not consolation plans. We’ll map out a whole day… Just for us. I promise…

The day you had your heart set on… You didn’t need hiking for that, just him. It took everything in you not to respond with bitterness.

Y: You promise?

A: I swear it. Still friends?

Y: TBD

~~~~~~~~~~

The rain stopped two hours later… It was clear now, that nature, and maybe even the weatherman, was openly mocking you. All you could do was laugh at the absurdity. If you didn’t laugh, you might cry, and nobody wanted that. You needed to find something to do. Something that would take your mind off the lingering disappointment that was trying to coax you back into bed for the rest of the day. 

You decided to visit Violet. You didn’t need Anthony for that. The two of you had grown close over the years, developed a relationship of your own. The fact that you had been waiting for an invitation from her son to pop by for a visit suddenly seemed ludicrous.

Like he usually was, Anthony had been right about his mother’s joy in seeing you. When she opened her door to find you standing awkwardly on her steps, she hugged you so tightly it practically squeezed the life from you. When you offered to take her out for a late lunch, she declared that idea nonsense and insisted that you come in and catch up. Her chef had prepared a generous midday spread in anticipation of Colin stopping by. Apparently Violet had volunteered to watch the little ones while Colin surprised his wife, Penelope, with a weekend trip for her birthday.

“I’m so glad you decided to come and see me today,” Violet said, handing you a perfectly made fresh cup of tea. It was no surprise that she didn’t even need to ask how you took it. “I was just thinking about you this morning. Anthony had mentioned that you planned to spend the day together…”

You didn’t miss her subtle attempt at finding out why you weren’t currently with her son. You always had a sense that Violet was quietly rooting for the two of you to end up together. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that you were nothing more than friends. 

“We rescheduled,” you smiled tightly, taking a sip from your tea.

Almost imperceptibly, her eyes narrowed, and then softened as she observed you. It was impossible to hide from her. “We… or he,” she asked knowingly.

“We both agreed hiking might be better on a day when it wasn’t pouring.” Her unspoken interrogation tactics sent you into an anxious babble. “I asked if he wanted to do something else, but he already had plans. It’s fine. I know he’s busy. He promised to set aside a day just for us.”

“Being busy doesn’t justify being inconsiderate, dear. His father and I taught him better than that,” she huffed in frustration. “I love my son, but you’re too easy on him.”

You felt yourself sink in your chair. “I don’t think I’m too easy on him. I just know how much he has on his plate. I’m trying to be con- …” You paused on the last word, realizing the trap she had expertly set for you.

“Considerate?” Violet smirked, finishing your sentence.

“Fair enough,” you conceded. “I brush it off just as much for my benefit as for his. It takes a lot of energy to be mad at him, and he’s a lot better at arguing than me. Besides, I know it is never his intention to hurt my feelings.”

Violet sighed, clearly weighing how to proceed. “Regardless of his intentions, however benign they might be, he still needs to know when something he’s done has hurt you. Aside from Benedict, you’re his best friend. If anyone has the privilege of being direct with him, it’s you. Anthony is brilliant in a lot of ways, but emotional intelligence is not his strong suit. He’ll gladly take the path of least resistance if you let him. As long as it is easier to disappoint you than someone else…” She held your gaze, making sure you were listening to her words. “Well, you’ll never be prioritized in the way you deserve if there isn’t a consequence for him to consider. I know he values you, but darling, occasionally you’ve got to make him work for it.”

His words from earlier in the day echoed in your mind. I knew you wouldn’t mind… so I made other plans. God, that was pathetic. She was right, he knew exactly how much he could get away with, and it was nobody’s fault but your own. Could he take his head out of his ass every once in a while and see below the surface - yes. Was it fair to expect him to read your mind - probably not. 

“Make him work for it, huh?” You asked, a trace of a smile playing on your lips.

“Oh, absolutely. When have you ever known Anthony to shy away from a good challenge?” She patted your hand affectionately. “I think the person you need to worry about having a little more consideration for is yourself, y/n.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Your afternoon with Violet had given you a lot to think about. If you wanted things to change, you needed to do your part. It was going to take a lot of trial and error, and it was probably going to be messy and uncomfortable for a while, but he was worth it. Your relationship with him was worth it. You were worth it. 

You wouldn’t lie, it scared you. But the idea of resenting him scared you even more. For years now, he has been the one solid presence in your life. He was fiercely protective, loving you in the ways that he knew how, showing you parts of himself that you suspected others were not privy to. That wasn’t something that you took lightly, and it wasn’t something you were willing to gamble with. If a potential fight with him now meant the possibility of having him close years from now… you’d risk it all.

It was well past dark now, the rain had resumed its onslaught, and you were huddled safely beneath the warmth of your favorite cashmere throw on the sofa. Book in hand, your eyes scanned the words on the page, begging them to take you somewhere else. In the end, your efforts were fruitless. After the third pass over the same sentence, you admitted defeat. Your mind refused to be dragged away from him. You were going to need assistance. Wine, you needed wine. 

Reluctantly, you uncurled from your blanket and trudged off in the direction of the kitchen. You had just turned the corner down the hall when the buzzer at your front door sounded, freezing you in place. With the intensity that you were currently staring at said door, you would have thought you could see right through it.

A quick glance at your phone told you it was far too late for any rational person to come round.

Inching slowly towards the door, you jumped when the loud, incessant buzzer sounded again. Your heart thrummed in your chest. Anyone showing up at nearly midnight couldn’t be anything other than trouble.

You pressed your ear against the sturdy wood door, listening for any signs of distress or malintent. Silence, aside from the heavy beating of the rain.

“Who’s there?” you braved.

“Open up and find out,” replied a muffled voice, distorted by the thick wooden door separating you. You were kicking yourself for not heeding Anthony’s suggestion to install a peep hole. He could never know about this…

Leaving the chain latched, you cautiously cracked the door open just wide enough to peek out. 

Standing there, sopping wet and shivering with the cold, was Anthony Bridgerton. His brilliant smile was only made more adorable by the chattering of his teeth. He held up a bag of Chinese take-away from your favorite local spot. No doubt an attempt to wiggle back into your good graces. Or maybe he just knew that the promise of food would at the very least grant him access over the threshold. 

“Dumplings for my Dumplin’...” he beamed. When you made no move to unlatch the lock, his lip jutted out in a pout that he borrowed from his brother. “Oh, come on Sass. Let me in. You don’t want me to catch a chill, do you?”

Standing your ground, you schooled your features, hiding the slight lifting at the corners of your mouth. He only used that nickname when he was prepared to resort to Level 5 groveling. Sass, short for Sassy, previously known as Sassy Pants.

“You must really think I’m easy, huh? You thought I would just open wide at the sight of you holding wontons?” You heard the unintended innuendo the moment the words left your mouth. “What kind of girl do you take me for?”

The smirk he now wore was trouble personified. “You know you want it, Sass. I even got the special sauce you like. And if that’s not enough,” he paused, pulling something from behind his back. “I also brought wine.”

Now he was speaking your language. Without saying a word, you closed the door in his face and took your time unlatching the metal chain from its sheath. The look on his face was priceless when you reappeared a moment later. “For a second there I thought you might actually leave me out here.”

“Me too,” you admitted, only half joking. “But that’s a good bottle of wine.”

He followed you down the hall towards the living room to deposit your bribe on the coffee table. When you went to make your way to the kitchen he reached out to gently clutch your wrist, effectively halting your steps. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You sit down and get comfy. I’ll grab us some plates.”

“Okay,” you shrugged, nuzzling back into your previously vacated spot on the sofa. “The wine glasses are…”

“I know where they are,” he grinned, draping your blanket over your lap. “Give me a second. I’ll be right back.”

He returned a moment later with his arms full, balancing the items with precision and grace. You always loved watching the way he moved. Every step was laced with purpose and intention. Every turn of his head, or flex of his fingers radiated capability. His shoulders were built to carry responsibility. His posture was centered and balanced. Poised to lead. It was comforting - the way he was just so… Anthony.

He took his place next to you on the sofa, pouring you a healthy glass of wine. “What are you doing here, Anthony?”

“Do I need a reason other than I wanted to see you…” he asked without meeting your eyes, piling food onto plates for the both of you.

Your mouth watered from the wafting scent of steamed dumplings being pushed into your lap as a hopeful distraction. He was clever to ply you with food and drink, but it wasn’t enough to nullify the suspicion building in your brain. “If it were six o’clock, then no, you wouldn’t need any other reason. But at midnight… I have a hard time believing you just couldn’t live without seeing me until morning. So how about we try this again. What are you doing here, Ant?”

He finally looked up from his food to face your questioning. “I had a shit day and I was feeling restless. I just needed to be somewhere…” he paused, an unsettling despondency creeping into the depths of his dark eyes. “... with someone that felt like home. I know I could have gone to Ben’s, but you were the one I really wanted. I miss you. We used to do this kind of thing all the time…”

A snarky response about canceled plans danced on the tip of your tongue but your irritation was quickly losing steam. Something about the slump of his shoulders and the set of his jaw made your eyes burn with unshed tears. Releasing the last remnants of bitterness, you plopped a dumpling into your mouth and lovingly chastised him. “You could have at least called instead of showing up like a crazy person in the middle of the night.”

“Why,” he grinned. “Did I scare you?”

“No.” you protested immediately.

Glossing over your false declaration, he teased, “You could have avoided the fear if you would have just let me install the security system I recommended.”

A change of subject was in order. “So, you had a rough day, huh?”

He shot you an incredulous look that told you he was well aware of your redirect but he relented nonetheless. If the size of his answering sigh was any correlation, it was a rough day indeed. “How much time do you have?”

“Apparently, all night,” you smirked before popping another dumpling in your mouth.

“Do you remember the Whitehall account I was telling you about?”

You sat back and let him get everything out. Most of the time very little participation was required of you in these types of conversations. He looked for your occasional affirmation or nod of agreement, but for the most part, he always worked it all out on his own. He just needed to process out loud to another person.

Over the next hour, the two of you polished off your midnight dinner and opened a second bottle of wine. It was a relief to just be in his presence. There was nothing to get between you. No distracting work calls or annoying girlfriends to pull at his attention. The sound of his laugh eased the ache in your chest. This was the day you had your heart set on. You didn’t need an activity or a fancy outing - just him.

When his eyes closed, head drooping to rest on the back of the sofa, you gathered your dinner plates and walked them into the kitchen. You’d wake him once you’d finished tidying and prepped the guest room for him to crash in for the night. 

You were elbow deep in soapy water when you felt him come up behind you, reaching his arms around you to place your empty wine glasses in the sink. Instead of immediately moving away, he lingered, the heat from his body caressing down your spine. Pressing his chest to your back, his arms locked around your middle, squeezing you in a tight hug. You let your head fall back to rest on his shoulder.

“Thanks for tonight,” his voice was soft and low in your ear.

Not ready for the embrace to end, you brought one soapy hand to clutch his forearm that held tight to your waist. “I’m glad you came. Even if it was at an unreasonable hour.”

The breath from his laugh tickled your neck as he bent to bury his face in your shoulder. You weren’t complaining, but this was an unusually long hug. His nose nuzzled against you, and you melted into him.

“You smell nice,” he purred. His hands unlocked from around you and his fingers brushed along your waist, settling on your hips with a firm grip. “You feel nice too.”

Your body froze against his. What was happening? He’d never spoken to you like this before, let alone felt you up. His roaming hands were making it hard for you to think. The close proximity was covering you in a lusty fog, throwing your reasoning skills out the window. Your entire body was humming with excitement, begging that small part of your brain that still had questions to shut the hell up. This was Anthony… your best friend. Dangerous, this was dangerous. But on the other hand, this was Anthony… Gorgeous, sexy, tempting Anthony. The same Anthony that snuck into your dreams at night to unravel you - mind, body, and soul. This would literally be a fantasy.

“Anthony,” your voice was breathy and dazed. “What are you doing?”

“Something I’ve been thinking about for a long time,” his lips pressed into the skin at your jaw. “This feels so good. Do you want to feel good with me?”

His words dripped down your body like warm honey, collecting at the apex of your thighs. A surge of desire spread through you like a wildfire, sending your heartbeat into a crazed frenzy. Answering his question, you captured one of his hands, sliding it up your body to cup your breast. The warmth of his palm seeped through the thin fabric of the tank-top your wore sans bra. You were dressed for bed when he showed up on your doorstep, wearing little more than a camisole, drawstring pj shorts, and fuzzy socks. 

There was a sudden intake of breath at your brazen form of consent. He held you securely, lightly squeezing to get a feel for the weight of you. Your nipples hardened at his touch, clearly visible beneath the pale pink cotton separating your skin from his. 

Moving forward, he pressed into your body, pinning your hips between him and the cold marble countertop. You could feel him, firm and commanding, growing harder in his snug jeans. His mouth tasted every inch of your skin from your earlobe to shoulder as he drug the thin strap down your arm. His lips left a trail of electricity in their wake, each spot they touched creating a new pulse point beneath the surface. 

Turning your face to him with a gentle pull, those devilish, hungry lips finally devoured yours. Of all the times you thought about kissing him, not one compared to the real thing. Your senses were bum-rushed, temporarily rendering you deaf, mute, and blind. But the taste of him… God! It enveloped you, forever altering your palate. Sweets would never be as sweet, and salt would lose its bite. Flavors you once craved would now always seem bland in comparison. 

His tongue was strong and insistent, exploring your mouth with fervor, coaxing yours to play with him. The intensity of what was happening was starting to make you lightheaded. Only when he broke the kiss were you able to acknowledge the existence of anything outside of where your bodies touched. 

Your lust-filled eyes watched as your top was pulled down, exposing your breasts to his onslaught. The look he gave you was deadly as he cupped you tightly and bent his head to suck your puckered nipple into his mouth. The wet heat of his tongue swirling around had you shivering in his arms. You could feel your legs go slack, his body now keeping you from slumping to the floor. 

His free hand ventured to the knot in the drawstring of your shorts, expertly untangling the silk bow. He had always been good at multitasking and this was no exception. 

Very slowly, his fingers pushed past the elastic band resting against your tummy, and went in search of the welcoming slit between your legs. His fingernails scraped across your skin as they traveled through your pubic hair, finally gliding inside to find you dripping with desire. The unhurried, languorous strokes liquified your bones. You were about to cross the point of no return. Soon, you would lose all sense of reason. You had to decide now. Were you really going to fuck your bestfriend? Your body screamed a resounding “Hell yes,” but your heart was waving frantically for your attention. 

You needed to know what this meant before anything else happened. You needed to know if this was real. You knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t be able to walk away from something this monumental unchanged. After all this time, why now?

“Anthony, wait…” His hand stilled but he didn’t remove it. “I need to ask you something.”

“Mmm, what’s that,” he hummed, still nibbling along the cord of your neck.

You almost stopped yourself from asking because you were afraid of the answer, but you needed to know. “Who were you with tonight before you came here?”

Every inch of him went rigid. He pulled his hand from your shorts and splayed it across your abdomen in a steadying gesture. “Y/n…” he whispered, almost begging you not to make him say it. He knew you wouldn’t like the answer.

“Were you with her?” You had to gather the courage to say her name. “Siena?”

His silence was deafening. His voice startled you when he finally spoke. “It doesn’t matter. She doesn’t matter. You’re the one I want to be with right now.”

Right now… That was where your fear lived. Was this just a pleasant distraction for him? Something to get lost in for a few hours before running back to her. Your heart was already breaking.

Gently, you stepped out of his reach and adjusted your clothes so that you were fully covered. Without a drop of anger, you said, “We can’t, Anthony. I can’t…”

The look of pure devastation that darkened his face almost sent you straight back into his arms. “Did I misread? That kiss… that was… it felt like you wanted this too. Is it me? Have I done something wrong?”

You were reaching out for him before you even registered that your feet were moving. “Anthony, no. Of course not. I do want this, and that’s the problem. If I’m being honest with myself, I think I’ve wanted this for a long time. I want it. I want you. Just not like this…”

“I don’t understand,” his brow was creased with worry.

Violet’s words from earlier that day were echoing in your mind. She was right. Sometimes you have to put yourself first. You had already decided that your relationship with Anthony was worth the risk of upsetting the balance a little. This was a prime example of that. Twenty-four hours ago, you wouldn’t have stopped him. You would have convinced yourself that this was what he needed, and you would deal with your own repercussions later. But now…

“I’m afraid,” you confessed.

Panic flashed over his face. “Of me?”

“If we sleep together, I’m going to love you.” You met his troubled gaze. “And I can’t afford to love you if this isn’t real.”

“You don’t believe this is real for me?” Hurt… he was hurt.

“I think part of it is real,” you blinked back your tears. “But can you honestly look me in the eye and tell me that some part of this wasn’t because she hurt you tonight?”

“It’s over between us. We’re finished. There is nothing left worth turning back to. And when I finally realized that, I saw things with more clarity. You…us… it’s the only thing that makes sense.”

You could feel the adrenaline coursing through you. He was saying things that you always wanted to hear, but was it enough? “Will you still feel this way a month from now? Because I will…”

He stepped closer, taking both of your hands in his. “Yes, I think I will.”

“I need you to know, Ant. I need you to be certain. You’re too important to me to risk crossing that line for a maybe. And I don’t want our beginning to be built on someone else’s ruins.”

A single, silent tear dripped down your cheek. This was a lot harder than you thought it was going to be.

He pulled you in, crushing you against his chest. “I’m sorry, y/n. I’m sorry. You mean everything to me. Please don’t hate me for this.”

Wrapping your arms around him, you allowed yourself a moment of indulgence. His warmth and familiarity were soothing, and the faint scent of amber that lingered on his clothes from his cologne brought you to a place of safety. You committed it all to memory, storing the moment in your heart, just in case this was the last time…

Reluctantly, you removed yourself. You needed distance for what came next. “Anthony, I don’t hate you. I’m not sure I could ever hate you. But…”

The words were stuck in your throat as you bargained with yourself not to cry. 

“Say it,” he begged. “Please, just say it. I can’t take the silence.”

“Sometimes I feel like an afterthought, and that, I do hate. It hurts, Anthony. I think of you constantly. About what you need, about how you feel. I know you care for me. I know that… but sometimes this friendship is unbalanced. That’s partially my fault. I never told you what I needed. I never asked for more. So, this is me asking.”

“I - I didn’t realize… What can I do? Tell me how to fix this,” he implored.

“Consider me,” you poured out. “Prioritize me on occasion. See beyond yourself to the person standing in front of you. Did you even think about what something this huge would mean for me in our relationship? Did you think about tomorrow? Did you weigh my risks when you weighed yours? You and me… it’s one of the only good things I have, so I have to protect it. I know it’s different for you, and that’s okay. I just… I just need you to think of me, because it’s hard for me to think of myself.”

Determination transformed his posture. “I can do that. I promise to take my head out of my ass if you promise to keep being honest with me. You’re a better liar than you think, Sass.” His thumb swiped across your cheek, wiping away a tear. “Maybe this makes me an idiot, but I was completely in the dark that you were feeling any of this. You’re always so strong and unbothered. So easy… but I should have known better. I could have looked harder. Just know, it was never because I didn’t care. I trust you implicitly, so when you tell me you’re fine, I take you at your word. I never want you to think that I find it easy to set you aside. I took you for granted, and that hurt you. I’m sorry - truly. It was never my intention.”

You smiled up at him, exhaustion suddenly soaking through to settle in your bones. “I know, Anthony. I know.”

His remorseful expression was laced with pain and sadness. “Do you want to know what hurts me in all of this?”

The thought of being the one to cause him pain was like a punch to the gut, but the two of you had decided on honesty, and it was only fair that he should be able to speak freely. You gave him a silent nod and braced yourself. “It hurts to know how much of yourself you hid from me. It hurts to know that there is at least a small part of you that doesn’t trust me enough to let me see those pieces. Like you’re just waiting for me to let you down and prove yourself right. If you want me to see you, really see you, you have to give me a fighting chance. You have to let me look.”

True terror took hold of you at his words. “And if you don’t like what you see?”

“Then we face our demons together. You show me yours and I’ll show you mine. We trust each other. We make each other better. I’m not going anywhere. Are you?”

“No,” you assured him. “I’m not going anywhere either.”

“That’s a relief,” he laughed, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand.

“So, what now…” you asked nervously. This was new ground and your legs were still shaky.

“Now - now I go home. It’s late. We’re both exhausted. This was a lot, but I don’t regret it. None of it. Do you?”

“No,” you whispered. “I’m still a little shaken, and definitely… stimulated, but no. No regrets.”

“Stimulated, huh?” He smirked, quickening your heart rate with a single look. “Are you sure you don’t wan-”

“Anthony…” you cut him off.

“I know, I know. Not like this. I can respect that… even though it’s killing me not to touch you right now.”

“Yeah, it’s going to be a long night,” you agreed. 

You walked him to the front door so that you could lock up behind him. He watched you with amusement while you unlatched the chain and twisted the bolts keeping the dangers of the outside world at bay. “You really should let me install that security system.”

“Goodnight, Anthony,” you offered him a resigned sigh. 

He turned to you from the small porch outside your door. He was lingering, but you didn’t mind. You could feel the words building in him, gathering courage and composure. “Can I see you tomorrow,” he asked, the fear of rejection hovering over him.

“I’d like that.” It would be so easy to invite him back inside and let goodnight turn into good morning, but you only possessed so much self control. “Call me… AFTER 10AM, please. Someone rudely kept me up half the night.”

“What an inconsiderate prick,” he scowled playfully.

Your laughter was cut short when he took a very intentional step into your space. Slowly, as not to spook you, he lifted a hand to the side of your face, sliding his fingers into your hair to hold you by the neck. His eyes bore into yours, perfectly conveying the need that was now burning in his chest. Your tongue reflexively ran over your lips, wetting them in preparation. You didn’t step away. You didn’t break his stare. One more kiss wouldn’t make a difference, right?

He was gentle this time, tentative even. But when that familiar taste washed over your tongue, you opened your mouth for him, welcoming the invasion. You fought the urge to wrap yourself around him and drag him to the ground right then and there. 

When he finally pulled away, you were both panting and out of breath. “Sass…” the low vibration of his voice snaked its way down your body, curling deliciously deep in your stomach. “Tomorrow… A month from now… It doesn’t matter. How I feel isn’t going to change. I know you need more than words. Promise me that you’ll let me prove it to you.”

“I’ll try.” It was all you had to give right now. 

“Me too.” And then he was gone.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sleep was a stranger to you for most of the night. Competing images clamored through your brain for hours after he left. The feel and the taste of him. The pain and confusion behind his eyes. Your own fear threatened to rise up and wash you out to sea. 

The relentless tossing and turning only served to deepen your exhaustion. Eventually, you accepted your fate and dragged yourself from bed and went in search of coffee. 

The rain still refused to ease, casting a dreary grey over everything. The idea of sitting alone, pathetically waiting by the phone for Anthony was unbearable. This new state of limbo that you found yourself in was the most unsettled you had ever been. You were standing on a terrifying precipice. No matter what happened, your life was going to drastically change. Too much was said for things to stay the same. You would either move forward, together, or, you would go separate ways.

Not knowing was a special kind of torture. Even the worst case scenario outcome would come as a relief. At least then the waiting would be over.

You had to chastise yourself for the better part of the morning. Old habits really did die hard. You tried, because you promised him that you would. You tried to stop anticipating the dreaded other shoe. You tried to not assume that he had spent the whole night thinking about what a colossal mistake he was making with you. You tried to believe that he would prove it.

Consumed by your internal battle, you almost didn’t hear your phone buzzing.

It was Anthony - one minute past ten. 

He sounded relieved to hear your hello. “You answered,” he sighed.

“You called,” was your reply.

“I was up all night,” his sleepy voice confessed.

“Yeah, me too.”

A long, pregnant pause filled the space between you.

“Day number one, Sass. I haven’t changed my mind. Are you ready to let me start proving it to you?”

This was it, the moment you had been begging for all morning. The moment that ended the waiting. 

“I’ll try,” you promised with a smile bright in your voice. 

________________________________________

@faye-tale @eleanor-bradstreet @musicismyoxygen84 @bridgertontess @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queen-of-the-misfit-toys​

[yanderepuck]

Kinktober Day 11

WELCOME BACK SLUTS. It's that time of the year you've been looking forward to. As always, Kinktober is hosted by your local Napoleon simp @xxsycamore

If you would like to read Kinktober 2021 and 2022 they are here

Remember to reblog and tell me what you thought about it

Day 11 - Frottage | Accidental Stimulation

There's not much worse than accidentally getting horny in public, and when Arthur is around that seems to happen a lot.

He loves to tease you when you're out but sometimes he goes a little far and you don't like to admit it when you're out.

He can be a gentleman when he wants, but he can make just about anything sexual.

The thing he does the most is when you are in a crowd, he will stay close to you and grab your ass. No one is going to notice. But it's not a brush, it's a nice firm squeeze. You've come to expect it now and are ready for it, but it does still make you jump.

You will never take him clothes shopping with you again after today. You tried on a dress and wanted him to see it. Arthur came over to your changing room and you did a little spin for him.

"You look beautiful in that."

You turned around to look at the mirror in the room. "You really like it?"

"Of course I do," he came up behind you and pushed your hair to one side, wrapping his arm around your waist. "You're always so beautiful," he kisses your neck. "I would love to see it on my floor~"

You got red, and you have to bite your tongue to hold back a moan. He knew just how to touch you and exactly what to say.

"Stop that!" You try shooing him away, but you really wanted him to keep going. "Can you pull the zipper down for me," you huff slightly.

He chuckles, loving to see you frustrated. He does as you ask. "There you go, love," he brushes his fingers against your bare skin on your back.

~

And now you decide to go to a cafe with him. Youve been out with him all day and you can't take the teasing much more. You ordered a few desserts you wanted to try since Arthur said he would split them with you.

"Mmm, this pie is really good," you take another bite of a chocolate cream pie.

"I bet it would taste better in your mouth," Arthur reached over and using his thumb, wiped whipped cream off of your lips.

You watch him, flustered. You feel your cheeks getting warm.

"Aw don't be embarrassed. Let me feed it to you."

He picks up his fork, gets a piece of pie on it, and holds it in front of your mouth. "Open up~"

He smiles and you eat the piece of pie. You start to think that he's just a romantic who goes a little too far.. until..

"Good girl. You listen well. I hope you'll do that again later," he winks at you and eats a piece of the pie himself.

You get even more flustered and almost want to spit out the pie, but oh my...

You can't help but imagine him ordering you around, telling you want to do. You would listen to him without a second thought. You wanted to take your eyes off him but you couldn't. Why does he have to be so irresistible?

You squeezed your legs together and didn't dare say anything in response.

With Arthur being Arthur he can tell that your demeanor changed. "Aww, did I get you worked up, love? That's something we can easily fix when we get back home."

[blindrapture]

Opeth: The Last Will and Testament

Opeth's new album came out! and I got it in the mail.

I've listened to it twice now and it's getting its hooks in me. it's a fascinating little thing. it's exactly 50 minutes long and is easily the densest piece of music Opeth have ever put out. it reminds me of Jethro Tull's Thick as a Brick in terms of sheer density, and also hey by complete coincidence this album guest stars Jethro Tull's Ian Anderson (on flute and spoken-word parts). it also stars the lead singer of fucking Europe for some backing vocals. "The Final Countdown," the guy who sings that, he's on this album.

this album sounds nothing like I expected. well, no, I'm pretty familiar with Opeth's work by now and this album is entirely in keeping with what they like to do. but there's still something surprising, paradoxically, about the fact this album sounds like what I expected the album to sound like if someone took the concept really seriously. because I didn't expect the concept to be taken that seriously! I don't really know Opeth for their concept work! they can tell a story, sure, and they can make comically cryptic lyrics that aren't supposed to be all that cryptic, but.

well, again, it's like Thick as a Brick! it's almost a dry joke, it's a clear concept and it takes it very seriously and just commits to it!

look at this. the lyric booklet folds out into this beautiful thing.

look at that! that's a full-on last will and testament (of a fictional character), and that's the lyrics to this album.

this album tells a story, but it tells it entirely in epistolary form, through found objects. this will and testament is the majority of the album, and a private letter is the final song.

it's a cool idea. it removes a lot of the drama, since the actual narrative here is of a bunch of adults standing in a stuffy room hearing this will and testament being read aloud. but it still uses that to provide drama! this man's life was strained! and his three children are going to find out some things!

I'm.. I'm gonna talk about the plot. technically spoilers, but c'mon, come and listen to this.

this is cuck metal. this isn't a rock opera, this is a cuck opera. this is a fucking story about a great cuck of a man. the kids aren't really his kids. and he waits until he fucking dies to tell them that. he was a cuck!

that's a funny way of putting it, yes. but not inaccurate. this was a very rich english man, a very conservative man with strong beliefs in heritage and legacy, and he struggles with that as he agrees to raise these two sons that his wife had without him. and he instead latches onto his daughter, who he had with his handmaid-- he cheated on his wife for this, because he needed to have an heir. and this daughter comes into life "disfigured" but healthy. she has some sort of chronic illness or disorder, I don't think it's specified, but she will live a full life, and this father accepts that and loves her. and it is to her that he leaves his estate, his funds, everything. the sons get worthless but sentimental trinkets. the daughter gets everything.

so the actual last will and testament gradually reveals all that. in it, the father alludes to the love affairs, the secrets he and his wife kept, his feelings about bloodlines, his jealousies, his frustrations, and he leaves everything to his daughter.

but then the final song takes place later. the daughter is now living in the estate, her estate. and she receives a letter from that handmaid, her mother. and the letter tells her some things too. her "father" was infertile. he fucked the handmaid, but nothing came of it. she, instead, came from a poor father, the handmaid's actual lover. but the handmaid told the rich patriarch that this child was his, so that he would agree to care for her and keep her alive. so in the end, all that obsession with bloodlines was tragic. the patriarch was infertile!!!! he left everything to Just Some Fucking Kid! and never knew!

and that's!!! how the fucking story ends!

I love this so much. I love the way this plot is told. I think it's so fascinating a choice.

but then! what about the music? y'know, the proof of the music is in the listening, so what is it like to listen to?

well!!!

it's.. fucking dense!!! it is so dense!!! a thick soundscape of emotion, kept under a stiff upper lip as we just have so much more to get to. it's appropriate to the concept.

there's flute on here, there's mellotron, there's a live string section, there's hand-claps and some of the sweetest basslines I've heard in a long time. there's wild drums that go nuts at the slightest provocation. there's frequent chugging guitars that keep the action moving forward. and there's vocals. there's fucking vocals. the vocals are a constant back-and-forth between folksy evil and soulful crooning, and beyond that they're a constant back-and-forth between clean and GROWLS Opeth has GROWLS again!!! Opeth hasn't had growls since fucking 2008!!!! and if you've never heard Opeth's growling vocals before, ohhh my goddd they're so good, they're so pronounced and controlled and fierce.

but the word of this album is "dense." you gotta keep that word in mind. it is proggy to a perfect pulp, it throws everything at you, your first listen won't even be a rollercoaster, it'll be an onslaught of ideas and sensations. this is an album that requires multiple listens. I need to give it plenty more. it comes and goes very fast, you have no idea where the music is going to go, and every moment is filled with details in a rich mix. it could be downright overwhelming. absolutely.

but for me??? for me???? for me this is christmas. this is exactly the kind of album I've been craving. this album is a challenge, something to sink my teeth into, something to track and interpret every way 'til sunday. and it's an immediately rewarding challenge, because it's not noise music or anything like that, it's prog rock!!! it's smooth classy rock music! all the elements are recognizable, everything is familiar! when I revisit a song and dig into a passage, I'm rewarded with "oh I just noticed the guitar does this really cool riff here!" the whole album is that!

it's fucking FUN!!!

this album is FUN!!!

this is music to HAVE FUN LISTENING TO!

I will leave you with the album's single. because I gotta demonstrate what I'm talking about. if you read all this, I want you to hear the music!

here is Paragraph 1, here is how the album begins.

so I've gotta listen to this album more.

thank you, Opeth!!!

[starkstruck27]

Day 2 of @harringrove-flip-reverse-it , and I can't wait for you all to read my entry! Prompt: Trope Subversion - Arranged Marriage Title: I Don't Like Your Girlfriend Word Count: 4578 words TWs: Slight Homophobia

“Peter, you’re not going to solve whatever problem you’re trying to solve by pacing around all night, now sit down and eat your dinner before you starve!” Margie Harrington said to her husband. He’d been acting like this for days, ever since their son Steve had come for a visit and announced his big news. 

He and his partner had taken a vacation to California a couple of weeks ago, since that’s where his partner was from, and while they were there, they had gotten married. When they came back to Hawkins afterwards, they only told a select few people, and while his partner, Billy, didn’t want to tell his parents, Steve had decided to tell his. After all, it was big news, and he said he didn’t feel right keeping it from them. 

They had hidden it well, but his parents weren’t exactly thrilled about the match. Peter was a lawyer, and an important one at that, so he was obviously concerned about the family’s reputation, and to have his son marry someone from the wrong side of the tracks, especially when that someone was a man, it just didn’t look very good. Margie was just happy Steve was happy, but she also knew that eventually, Peter would try to get them to split, and she didn’t know how easily Billy would fold. She didn’t want Steve’s heart to be broken, and she didn’t want that to cause a rift between him and his father, either, but right now, there was nothing she could do.

“I’ll be there in a minute, Marjorie,” Peter called back, waving her off without even looking up. His wife sighed, but she walked away, knowing that it’d be easier to talk him out of whatever he was planning once they both knew what it was than to try and interrupt his thinking process and make him all frustrated. She went into the dining room and started eating by herself, rolling her eyes as she could hear her husband continuing to pace upstairs. 

Finally, after Margie had almost finished her meal, Peter came downstairs, a grin on his face like he had come up with a perfect plan, and started eating his cold dinner without so much as a grimace.

“Did you solve your problem, dear?” Margie asked as she cleared her plate, shaking her head a little as her husband hummed and wiped his mouth on a napkin.

“I believe I did, actually,” he said, taking a sip of wine before asking, “Stephen is twenty three now, correct?”

“Yes, why?” Margie asked, rejoining the table with her own glass of wine.

“Well, he’s just about that age to need to be on his own insurance, so here’s what we’ll do. I’ll call him and invite him to lunch so that he can sign himself off of our insurance, right? But in reality, I’ll write up divorce papers and that’ll be what he signs. I’ll figure out a way to get his friend to sign them too, and then when they inevitably split up, there’s no need for it to be a big thing, they’ll already be divorced and nobody will have to know about them being married in the first place,” Peter said, continuing to eat as he sat up, just as proud as a peacock.

“And what if they don’t end up splitting?” Margie asked.

“Then they don’t have to know. Stephen doesn’t know to look twice at whatever documents I tell him to sign, so it won’t matter! What do you think?”

“I think that you’re taking this a bit too far, Peter. There’s a lot of things you’re not considering.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for one, they’re in love, at least enough to have been together since they left high school and to then get married. And another thing, what if Billy is smart enough to look twice when you make him sign? I think you’re blowing this all out of proportion.”

“Marjorie,” Peter sighed, “I have to do something. I cannot just allow Stephen to do whatever he wants and ruin his life, our lives, and the life of his friend. And if I have to arrange their divorce for them myself, then that’s what I have to do.”

“Well, just don’t expect me to be involved,” Margie said, standing up and leaving the table as she added, “I might not agree with the way they went about things, but if Stephen is happy, then that’s all that matters to me. If this is really a mistake, he’ll figure that out eventually, but if not, I’m not going to play a part in ruining his happiness just for our own vanity, and that’s final.”

“Fine, you don’t have to be involved, but just don’t spill the beans on me, alright? I’ll do everything myself,” Peter scoffed, rolling his eyes. Whether his wife would help him or not, he was going to go through with this. His son just could not stay married to that hoodlum, and that’s all there was to it.

The next day, Peter was at his office and, in between meetings, found time to write up the divorce papers for his son. He made sure to dot every I and cross every T, and by closing time, he had everything in order. The only thing left was to call Steve and set up a lunch date. He dialed the number Steve had given them for the phone at his new place, but after a few rings, it went straight to the answering machine.

“Hey, this is Steve,” the machine said in his son’s voice, and then in another that he vaguely recognized, “And Billy.” It went back to Steve’s voice and continued, “We’re either not home right now or we’re avoiding your call. Either way, the beep’s coming, you know what to do.” The message was accentuated by the sounds of giggling and a few snickers, and Peter felt his eye twitch a little as he listened for the beep.

“Hello, Stephen, it’s your father,” he said when it came, “I was just calling to see if you would be willing to come over next weekend and have lunch with your mother and I. I, uh, have some papers I need you to sign. Nothing major, just a few forms to get you off of our insurance now that you’re a married man. Anyway, get back to me as soon as you can and we’ll hash out the details. Have a nice evening, son.”

Steve had been busy with the dishes when the call had come in, but he heard the message as his dad left it, and he couldn’t help but laugh. Billy had returned from switching the laundry just as the message ended, and he saw Steve nearly falling into the sink as he laughed, so he walked over to help dry and asked, “Henderson or Buckley?”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, finally getting over the laughing fit.

“There’s only three people in the world that can make you laugh that hard, but I was in the other room, so that means either Henderson or Buckley called and left a message. C’mon, which one was it and what did they say that almost had you drowning in dishwater?”

“Actually, it wasn’t either of them,” Steve said, “It was my dad. He wants to have lunch with me next week. He needs me to sign something so I’m no longer on his and my mom’s insurance.”

“And that’s funny… why?” Billy asked.

“Because, I did all that months ago when I moved out of their house. I guess he never read the papers I had him sign, because apparently, he doesn’t know that, which means he’s planning something. He’s got some sort of scheme he thinks I’m gonna fall for, and I’ll bet my entire trust fund that it has something to do with splitting us up.”

“Really? Why the hell would your dad try and do something like that?”

“Because it’s not good for his image if I’m married to a man from the wrong side of the tracks. That’s gotta be his angle, because I don’t see any other reason he’d be this concerned about it. But anyway, the reason I was laughing is because he thinks it’s gonna work. He thinks I’d sign my soul away to the devil if he just asked me to, but I know better than to sign something without reading it first. But, I think I’ve got an idea.”

“For what?”

“Well, he thinks I’ll sign whatever he wants, so I’m going to, but not the way he wants.”

“Okay, I’m intrigued, what’s your plan?” Billy asked, knowing that sparkle in Steve’s eyes, and knowing that it meant mischief. 

“So, we’ll go to that lunch, and you’ll wear your best outfit, and we’ll bring Max along for moral support, and then, we’ll sign the papers,” Steve explained, his smile downright wicked.

“And how is that not doing exactly what your dad wants?”

“You’ll see,” Steve said, then added with a wink, “Oh, and I get to put your outfit together. We have to make sure you impress the folks after all.”

The next weekend came quickly, and everything was in place on both sides of the equation. Peter had the papers all ready on his desk, a pen already set on top of them, and Margie had made a fantastic lunch, one fit for kings. Steve had dressed Billy in his best outfit, a mesh crop top with simply sinful tight leather pants that showed off most of his tattoos and piercings, and they had picked Max up on their way to the house, making sure she was in her rattiest clothes, had at least four band-aids visible on her face and hands, and had her skateboard and walkman in hand. It took everything he had to keep a straight face as they walked up to the door, but he managed to keep it together and put on a neutral expression as they rang the doorbell, waiting for his mom to answer.

She had been clued in to their plan when Steve called her to tell her they’d be at the lunch, and she was all set to act accordingly with whatever they threw at her. She opened the door, smiling as she greeted them, and pretended to hide a grimace as she saw Steve walking in with Billy’s hand in his. Max didn’t say a word as she walked into the house after them, her headphones on as she walked past Margie without even a handshake, just as Peter walked in.

“And who is this young lady?” Margie asked, biting her nail as Max walked a bit too close to the living room carpet with her muddy shoes on.

“This is Maxine, we’re fostering her. Y’know, there are just so many poor kids who grow up in foster care, so we decided to do our part and try to give her a good home. The older ones tend to just age out since everybody wants the babies and toddlers, so we figured we’d give Maxine a try and see how things go,” Steve explained, smiling until Max ripped her headphones off and gave him the dirtiest look she could muster.

“It’s Max. If you can’t get it right, then don’t say it at all!” She snapped, dropping her board on the hardwood floor and starting to skate around the kitchen.

“Max, honey, we talked about this. No skating in the house,” Steve said, and Max just rolled her eyes.

“Then can I go outside?” She asked, and Steve sighed.

“Sure, but either Billy or I has to go with you,” he said, then leaned over and stage-whispered to his parents, “If we let her go by herself, she tries to run away.”

“Ugh, I hate you!” Max stomped her foot, crossing her arms as she put her headphones back on and stormed over to the couch.

“It’s a work in progress,” Steve said, following the girl’s lead and heading to the living room to sit while lunch was being finished. He relished in the barely hidden look of discomfort and disbelief on his dad’s face as he said it, having to pinch himself to keep from laughing.

“So, uh, Billy, how has married life been treating you?” Margie asked, slapping on a fake smile and pretending to be uncomfortable as she sat down across from him, Steve and Max.

“Oh, it’s great. Your son is one fantastic piece of tail, and I get to have him whenever I want!” Billy said, reaching over and pinching Steve’s ass to accentuate his point. Steve just giggled and swatted his hand away, and everyone else just laughed uncomfortably.

“And, um, what is it that you do for work?” Peter asked, and it looked like he was near a heart attack as Billy kicked his feet up on the coffee table.

“I’m currently unemployed, but I know a guy who’s been hooking me up with some decent work in sales. It’s a pretty loose gig, but it brings in a lotta dough, and I get a twenty percent employee discount, so,” he said, shrugging as he propped his arms up behind his head.

“And what exactly is it that you sell?” Peter asked, his head starting to pound.

“Oh, y’know, party supplies. Amps, sweet stuff, disco biscuits, special K, electric kool-aid, some bud, you get the gist,” Billy said, shrugging again. He tried not to lose it as Steve’s parents both looked confused at first, but then quickly realized what he was talking about and nodded as if they still didn’t get it. It was hilarious watching his dad try to keep his cool as he put his arm around Steve, and it only became funnier as he had to excuse himself for a moment to ‘check on lunch’ as Steve cuddled into Billy’s side.

“Can I go upstairs and see your old room?” Max asked, sitting up a little on the couch and speaking loud enough so Peter would hear it as he left for the kitchen.

“Sure, go ahead,” Steve said, “It’s just up the stairs and to the right.”

Max got up from the couch then and bounded up the stairs as quickly as she could, leaving Steve and Billy alone with Margie.

“So, you think dad suspects anything?” Steve asked his mother quietly.

“No, I think you’ve got him right where you want him. And it was a great idea bringing Max into this, she’s a wonderful actress. I think if the three of you keep it up, I’ll be able to convince him to leave you be once it’s all said and done,” Margie said with a wink.

“Good. Oh, also, we had another idea that we wanted to run past you first before we did it. Would you be okay if Max threw some food at you then?” Steve asked, the mischievous glint playing in his eyes.

“We’d have her wait until it cools down a little, of course, but after she does, you can say you need a moment and excuse yourself, and that’ll give your husband the perfect opportunity to have us sign those papers,” Billy added, smiling along with Steve.

“As long as she doesn’t throw a whole chicken breast at me, I’m fine with that,” Margie said, shaking her head as she laughed a little. “Oh, wait, I think I hear your father coming back, everybody quit smiling!”

As Peter walked back into the room, he found everyone in the same position he’d left them in, chatting about the weather. As he sat down, he asked, “What happened to the young lady?”

“She wanted to check out my old room, so she’s upstairs,” Steve said, and just then, Max came barrelling back down the stairs, holding something in her hands.

“Oh my God! This is so funny, check out what I found!” She said, waving around a porn magazine.

“Max! Where did you find that?!” Steve nearly shouted, pretending to be panicked as he tore the magazine out of her hands, trying to hide it.

“Under your bed. Gotta say, Steve, you’ve really got a type,” she laughed, holding up one of the pages that had fallen onto the floor. It showed a blonde woman dressed all in leather that had a brunette man tied up on the ground in front of her, and once everyone had gotten an eyeful of it, Steve grabbed that, too, crumpling all of it up and taking it to the kitchen to throw it away. Max continued to laugh, and Billy had to chuckle a little, too. They’d planned this gag along with everything else, but the way Steve’s face went red just like his parents’, it was just too funny.

“Um, I-I think lunch should be ready by now, why don’t we head in to the table?” Margie said, her face still flushed as she led the way to the table. It was set with the semi-fancy silverware and china, and Max’s eyes grew wide as she walked in. As soon as they were all seated, she waited until she thought Steve’s dad would be the only one looking, and she swiped the crystal salt and pepper shakers off the table, stuffing them in her pocket.

“Now, young lady, you are a guest in our home, and we are being very kind to you. You should not be repaying that kindness by taking our things and acting the way you are,” he said, giving her a hard stare.

“I didn’t do anything,” Max said, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms.

“What’s going on?” Steve asked as he, Billy and Margie walked in, carrying the food dishes.

“I didn’t do anything!” Max was quick to defend, glaring at Peter.

“Yes, she did. She took the crystal salt shakers and stuffed them in her pockets,” Peter countered, and Steve looked at Max disappointedly, shaking his head. 

“Max, we talked about this. You don’t take things that don’t belong to you, now put them back,” he said, putting his hands on his hips as Max groaned, but put the shakers back on the table. Steve glanced at his dad after the whole exchange, and was pleased to see his eye starting to twitch again, an obvious sign that they were getting to him. 

After that, they all sat down and started serving themselves. Margie had made chicken with broccoli and potatoes, and for most of the meal nothing major happened. This was mostly due to the fact that nobody said a word as they ate, any and all conversation topics seeming loaded with too much opportunity for awkward tension, so nobody bothered to try. That is, until Steve saw that Max was eating everything but her broccoli.

“Max, honey, you have to eat your broccoli, or else we won’t get ice cream on the way home,” he said, nodding at her plate, but she only scoffed.

“I’m fifteen, Steve, not five, and I don’t like broccoli,” she said, rolling her eyes yet again.

“Just eat it, alright?” Billy backed Steve up, making his tone as sharp as possible until it was practically a growl.

“No,” she said, “I don’t like broccoli.”

“Just fucking eat it, Max. I’m not gonna say it again!” Billy raised his voice at her.

“I won’t say it again, either! I. Don’t. Like. Broccoli!” She raised her voice right back, picking up a couple of florets in each hand and throwing them, some hitting Billy and Steve, but the majority going off to the sides and hitting his parents. After her tantrum, Max stood up from the table quickly and stormed off to another room, her headphones back on her ears as she hid in the living room. Billy stood up as if he were going to go after her, but Steve grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, telling him to give her a few minutes to cool off before they both said something they’d regret.

Meanwhile, his parents just sat there, both in disbelief at the girl’s horrible behavior and the way Billy had tried to handle it. For a minute, it seemed like nobody was going to move, as if everything had been stopped by the tantrum and now somebody had to restart time. Finally, Margie was able to get into character and stood up, still pretending to be in shock as she muttered, “I-I need a moment,” and left the room in a rush.

“Stephen, why don’t you come into my office and sign those papers now, and then I think you all should leave, your mother seemed terribly upset,” Peter said, standing and looking at Steve in a way that told him he didn’t really have any choice in the matter. Steve just nodded and said okay, and he and Billy followed his father to his office.

“It’s an insurance thing, so will you need just my signature or both of ours?” Steve asked as they got into the office, glancing at the papers on the desk.

“Both of you will need to sign it,” Peter said, flipping to the right page and holding out a pen to Steve. He signed, then passed the pen to Billy, who signed as well.

“There, we should be all squared away, then,” Steve said, handing the papers back to his dad. “Sorry about all this, dad, this was supposed to be a nice afternoon. Tell mom I said sorry too, okay?”

“I will, son. Have a nice evening,” he replied, the first genuine smile he’d had all day coming to his face.

Steve led the way back to the living room so that they could collect Max before leaving, making sure his dad was well out of earshot before he started to laugh quietly. They got Max and quickly left, saying a quick goodbye to Margie when they saw her on her way to the office, asking her to give them a five minute head start before she went in there. She agreed and hugged them all before they left, waiting until she heard their car rumbling down the road before she went to find her husband.

“So what was it that he tried to get you guys to sign?” Max asked from the backseat, taking some of the band-aids off her face.

“Divorce papers,” Billy grinned wickedly, “But we didn’t actually sign them, don’t worry.”

“Nope. Poor dad’s in for a shock once he finally takes a closer look at those things,” Steve agreed, winking. “Now, let’s celebrate! Who wants ice cream?”

Back at the Harrington house, Margie had just entered the office, schooling her features to be neutral before she knocked on the door frame and walked in.

“So, I think we can agree that the next order of business is making sure they don’t adopt that horrible little girl, am I right?” Peter said as Margie sat down, kicking his feet up on his desk as he filed the documents away in a folder.

“I take it they signed, then?” Margie asked, biting her lip so as not to break the facade just yet.

“Sure did, see for yourself!” Peter said, flipping to the right page and holding the paper out to his wife. She couldn’t help it anymore, she let out a little giggle and said, “Um, dear, you might want to take a second look at those signatures.”

Peter looked at his wife like she lost her mind, and quickly whipped the paper around to see what she was talking about. His mouth went dry as he saw it, and his eye started twitching again, because instead of two names on the signature lines, he saw two parts of a sentence. In the neatest cursive he’d ever seen, the phrase “Suck a Lemon, Old Man!” was written on the lines.

As her husband started completely dumbfounded at the paper, Margie finally lost it, bursting into a fit of laughter that didn’t end until the papers Peter had been holding were halfway through the shredder.

“I don’t know what you’re laughing about, Marjorie! This is a disaster! This whole damn afternoon was a disaster!” He ranted, throwing his arms up in frustration. “Now I’ll have to write up a whole new set of papers and figure out some other plan!”

“Oh, come off it, Peter!” Margie finally calmed down enough to say, “This afternoon was a disaster by design! Stephen knows you, he knew that there was more to this, especially since he got his insurance in order months ago. They planned this whole thing to show you that you’re upset about nothing.”

“You call what happened out there nothing?!” Peter asked, completely exasperated.

“No, that was absolutely something. That was the worst case scenario. But that’s not how their relationship actually is. They wanted to show you that for as worried as you are about their relationship, it could be a hell of a lot worse. It was all acting. Max isn’t a foster kid, she’s Billy’s little sister, and they asked her to help them today by acting as badly as she could so you could see that at least they don’t have a juvenile delinquent they’re trying to raise. Steve dressed Billy up like that and had him say all those things about dealing drugs and such so that you can now think that at least our son didn’t marry an unemployed drug dealer with anger issues. It was all just like one big prank.”

“And you were in on it?!”

“Yes, I was.”

“Why would you do that to me?!”

“Because they asked me for help and I gave it to them,” Margie said, sighing, “Look, Peter, I realized a while ago that if I try and control everything about Steve’s life, not only would I never win, but I’d end up losing him in the end. He’d get fed up with me and if it hit a certain point, he’d cut me out completely. So instead of trying to control him, I’ve decided to support him instead. He’s made a lot of mistakes and he’s going to make more, but rather than try and prevent them from ever happening, I’m going to help him through those mistakes so he learns from them. And I don’t think he’s making a mistake with Billy. They’re in love, just like we’re in love, and they deserve to be in love without someone else controlling their every move. And if, heaven forbid, they ever do realize it’s a mistake, then I’d rather be here to offer Steve a shoulder to cry on than to laugh and say ‘I told you so’, wouldn’t you?”

Peter looked lost in thought as Margie’s words sank in, and finally, he sighed. “I suppose you’re right,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “I guess I should just be glad that nothing they said today was real, huh?”

“Now you’re getting it,” Margie smiled softly, taking her husband’s hand and kissing it gently.

“And I suppose I should call them tomorrow and apologize, shouldn’t I?”

“I think that would be best. Then maybe next weekend we can have a real lunch and we can all get to know each other the right way, hm?”

“Fine. But if that girl decides to tag along again, make sure that broccoli is not on the menu,” Peter said, making them both laugh.

[redwithjoon]

"Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers uncontested."

"You don't want to...?"

Ultimately uneventful :/

HotchxReid

Word count: 8k

Just filth - NSFW!!!

An insanely stressed Hotch was ready to fight an inmate and is currently giving Spencer a seminar about how his wife wants a divorce pronto. Spencer decides that this just can't be and takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally. Oh, and he also finds out that his boss has a weirdly specific kink??

Read on Ao3

I come bearing food: @observaureium, @gay-in-a-jar, @castielryan

Have fun ↓

=

"Haley wants me to sign the divorce papers uncontested." 

There it is. 

Spencer has been silently wondering why his boss 'escalated the situation' by losing his patience and was about to fistfight a whole serial killer so easily. Hotch had faced down more unreasonable, violent unsubs in the past, but for some reason, the moment he was baited by that man, he instantly snapped. 

"So we don't waste money on lawyers." 

Well, that'll do it. Having your wife screaming you down over the phone about how she wants you to officially divorce her already was obviously not an ideal start of the day but it can't just be that, can it? His boss is ridiculously pent up, and it's not like he had anyone to bitch to. After a few seconds, Spencer realized that Hotch wants some kind of response to his almost-confession but he's still unsure of what to say… like he literally has no fucking idea what Hotch wants him to do? Reassure him that it was going to be okay? Tell him that he's a good man either way? 

"You don't want to…?" Well, yeah obviously.

Hotch continues to randomly complain to him about his problem with his soon-to-be ex-wife and Reid just lets him be, trying to help him by giving responses he thinks would calm him down and make him feel the slightest bit better but there's only so much he can say. 

And to make it even worse, now they're stuck in traffic. In an absolutely insane traffic. 

Hotch subtly asks the taxi driver next to their car what exactly is happening and the driver just sighs. "I dunno, there's apparently a car crash not too far from here. They're rerouting the cars but…" 

"It'll take a while." Hotch thanks the man and rolls his windows back up. 

Christ. What can they do? Hotch is already irritated and now they have this. And the burden is not just mentally, Hotch has been driving for a while now and Spencer knows it's usually nothing for the man but it's a bit more tiring when you're stressing out about your imminent divorce, huh? 

Like a good friend, Spencer just listens to him, he listens, he listens, and he listens. 

But, fuck… there's only so much passive-aggressive talk about Haley that he can take.

"Are you tired?" Spencer cuts off Hotch in the middle of his mumbled rant, Hotch was talking about custody or something and Spencer has been listening long enough that he feels like he could be a divorce lawyer too by now. 

"Not really." 

"Well, I'm tired, it's the uh, the heat, you know, and I'm still a bit shaken from before." He is not shaken from before, but he'll say whatever it takes to get the hell out of this car. 

Hotch's previous potential outlet, a literal full-on fistfight, has been taken from him and now it has nowhere to go, no relief from the frustration. Too bad that they're not in the FBI's training room where Hotch can go berserk in shredding rubber dummies. 

"I see. We can pull over, but there's still no place to rest." 

Right. Ah… think, Spencer, think. You may not be under intense terror anymore and can't do your best work, but you need to come up with something. 

Hm… what will he do when he needs to let out stress– wait, no, not him, what would guys like Hotch do when he needs to let out stress other than sweating it out? Reid is tempted to just tell him to do laps but then a sudden realization hits him like lightning, so fast and shocking that he almost jumps on his seat. 

There's another way to sweat things out, right? 

But that won't do, does that even exist in Hotch's list of options of stress relief? Workout? Deep meditation? And…? 

"Hotch, do you want to rest? There's uh… well, there's a hotel there." Spencer points at a discreet-looking hotel. Hm… too discreet in fact with its own parking lot and everything. 

Hotch blinked. If it's any other hotel, he'll just chalk it up to Spencer needing that sweet coolness of AC and some subpar dining. But that's not that kind of hotel, is it? 

"That's not a proper hotel, Reid." Perhaps his subordinate just doesn't understa–

"I know." 

Of course he knows. Look, he knows a lot of stuff, a lot, some of them irrelevant, but even he knows that that is a love hotel, a short-stay hotel to be exact, paid by the hour for obvious fucking reasons. Hotch knows, he knows, he's just offering. 

It's silent for a while and Spencer's hyper brain is already thinking of dozens of different ways on how he would be fired (he's up to 57 potential scenarios by now), but shockingly…

Shockingly, Hotch makes a left turn, he drives down the rather empty road and parks into the almost-hidden parking lot. Quiet, discreet, just everything you need to make sure no one sees you come and leave. 

Hotch turns off the engine and Spencer is just… he's waiting for Hotch to unlock the car. He's nervous. Sure, he was the one that offered Hotch to stay in a love hotel for a few hours with the obviously very unprofessional, potentially damaging suggestions, but he's still nervous, okay? He just… wants to get Hotch's mind off of this downright spiral he is on and he's not the best in– 

"Are you sure?" Hotch's voice is as calm as ever, if Reid isn't a profiler he would've missed the slight tremble on his voice.

"…No one has to know." 

"No, Reid, are you sure you also want this…?" 

Yeah, Reid, do you want to fuck your boss? His brain is taunting him, asking him why he's offering sex to his boss but then again, why did his boss accept, hm? Why did he even consider the idea? He's not the only one in the wrong here. 

"I…" He clears his throat. "Can you just unlock the car…?" He could hear the door unlocked, Spencer walks out first, still looking everywhere but at Hotch. "…Do you have cash?" 

"Yes." 

"Okay. Good. So um, we're… good?" 

"Good." 

Spencer wants to scream from all the one-word answers. Of all times can Hotch just sound less formal? Just once, can he sound less formal when they’re literally going to have real sexual intercourse? 

…probably not, huh? 

The less they talk the better. Reid wants to hiss the moment they walk into their room, the thought of how dirty this room must be even though it looks perfectly clean considering the purpose of such accommodations but he pushes through it. 

Okay. Now that they’re here, uh… what should they do first? 

Spencer almost jumped when Hotch walk past him and sits on the bed. The first time they finally lock eyes with each other, as if creating a silent agreement, Reid lightly nods and put his bag on the chair. Okay, no thinking, (no bitching about divorce too,) only uh… only…

Okay, class? What should we do first? 

That's the limit on how his brain is functioning right now, thinking about what should they do first? What should he say to his boss? Should he, like, give him options? List out the menu like he's a waiter just asking when he wants for lunch? 

Hotch hasn't said anything and it's unnerving to be honest. 

Spencer sighs comically loud before he decides he might as well chose for him, if Hotch doesn't know what he wants then they just do whatever they can do. 

It's not like Hotch doesn't know what he wants. 

When Spencer turns around to grab something from his bag, Hotch can't help but watch and linger his eyes on Spencer's body. 

He admits that he has never, in the years and years of them working together, thought of Spencer as sexy. One part of it must be from the fact that he had started working with Spencer since he was a lanky, nervous 21-year-old who looked like a kid straight out of highschool. He never really noticed the change until now. 

Hell, even the word 'sexy' doesn't seem to fit him at all, with Reid always dressing up so conservatively. 

He always, always dressed like that, the only casual clothes Hotch had ever seen him in is his standard academy uniform and some shirt he wears strictly when the summer heat just gets too much. Even then he would wear short sleeves button up. 

Suddenly he remembers how surprised he was when one scorching hot day, he saw Reid with his long hair tied in a ponytail with the first two buttons of his shirt undone. It's not… he's not showing any excessive skin, the buttons didn't even show anything that can't be compared to Prentiss' shirt but it just looked… vulgar. It looked so vulgar merely because of the rarity of it. He remembered for a second that he almost looked away, like it's not something decent or proper for his eyes but then he remembered how illogical that is. 

That's something he didn't remember till now but it comes back at full force right this minute, when Reid bends down just the slightest bit to rummage through his bag to get…  

It's ridiculous how hot it is when Spencer pulls out a hair tie from the bag's tiny pouch, the man reaching back to gather his neck-long, perfectly curled hair. It's ridiculous how he feels himself getting more and more aroused just to see Spencer unbutton his cufflinks. 

The fact that he feels some kind of excitement seeing Spencer struggling to pluck his cufflinks off…

He needs to stop thinking and just enjoy it. Besides, isn't this Spencer's idea? Is he not in the wrong? Hotch's brain desperately needs some kind of justification as to why he's weirdly turned on already. 

Spencer, still pouting as he struggled with his right cuff, started walking towards Hotch. 

Spencer decides that he is going to straddle his lap, almost like he's used to if even. He only paused for a second, as if contemplating for the last time if he's going through with this or not but decides that there's no backing out now and he slowly starts to climb on his boss' lap. 

Spencer is nervous but he knows what he's doing. 

…Hotch doesn't know why that ticked him off, not in a sense that he hates what Spencer is doing, but in a sense that it shows this is Not Spencer's first time. 

Is it absurd of him to expect this 27 year old man to be… a totally inexperienced person? And why he finds himself feeling the smallest bit of disappointment when he realized Spencer isn't a fumbling, blushing mess. He's not aggressive in any way, still pretty much the Spencer that he knows, and yet. 

He got pulled out of his mind when he hears a relieved, tiny laugh as Spencer finally got the cuffs of his shirt off, then those same hands hold Hotch's shoulder, using them to brace himself as he tries to get comfortable on Hotch's lap, moving his knees subtly here and there on each side of Hotch's thighs to minimize discomfort, he expected Hotch to help him but–

Spencer feels hands on his waist to… push him away? 

The 'rejection' puzzles him greatly, looking down at the older man with the same pout, just more confused this time. "You don't like it…?"

"I do." Well. Then why? Spencer wants to ask when Hotch fully push him off his lap, making him stand up again. Hotch's hands are still holding Spencer's waist and Spencer could still feel the desire if the way Hotch's fingers are pretty much massaging his waist is something to go by so he isn't sure why the man is pushing him away. 

"I… like how you look unbuttoning your cuffs." 

The little confession made Spencer gasps ever so slightly. Hotch is actually talking to him about what he wants? Really? 

"I'd like to see you strip everything down yourself, if that's not too uncomfortable for you." 

Oh, how careful this man is. Reid offered sex and Hotch still asks if he's uncomfortable, truly a gentleman.

"I can do that. Do you want me to do it slow?" Spencer doesn't fucking know how to do a strip tease but he's good at improvising (as they both just saw) so he's sure he can do it right. Hotch's brows furrow in contemplation, he's also not sure what he wants but… he has an idea. "That's not necessary, I like it more if you do it casually."

"Casually?" 

"How you would strip when you're in private, like your bedroom for example. When you strip for a shower or to simply change clothes." 

"Oh… okay, then." That's a relief, though it is a weird request is it not? Act like he's at home? As if he's just relaxing alone? …Like doesn't know he's being watched? Hm… is that a kink? Is it, in and of itself, something sexual? 

Reid decides that he's thinking too much about it and thinking isn't what both of them want right now, right? 

Rarely has Hotch ever been this focused in anything other than work. He follows those trimmed, slim fingers slowly unbutton the rest of the dark, almost black cardigan off. Was it slow? He wasn't doing it slow, was he? No, he wasn't, he was undoing them normally so it might be Hotch's brain that's working slow. Not just his eyes, his ears also seem to be hyper aware to the slightest sound, because he got pulled out of his thoughts by the sound of Spencer's rolled up cardigan being tossed to the hotel's lone sofa, it feels like he could hear the lightest sound of the silk tie (always coloured or patterned) being unfurled easily by a single tug. 

Is he sweating? Because Hotch feels his body temperature going up for some unknown reason. (He knows the reason is arousal but he refuses to recognize how easy it is to get him hard.) 

Spencer then unbutton his white shirt one by one, this time he folds them a little neater before putting them on top of the cardigan. He's wearing a thin, loose tank top undergarments underneath. God, just how many layers does this man wear on the daily? Again, for some 'unknown' reason, Hotch finds that arousing. Probably because of how conservatively Spencer always dresses and he is probably one the only ones that gets to see his skin, because of that tank top, even if Spencer sweats or gets wet, no one can see his chest, his nipples or belly button. Yet he can.  

Hotch almost jumps when he hears the slightest frustrated groan as Spencer struggles to unbuckle his belt, eyes looking down and his lips pouting in focus. Wait, what? No. No, don't do that, get rid of that tank top first. Hotch is screaming on the inside, just one thin layer of cotton fabric and he could finally see his bare upper body. God, why is he being a tease?

Well, maybe he isn’t being a tease, maybe this is just how he– 

Can't think, Hotch can't think when he hears the thump of the belt buckle hitting the floor, Spencer accidentally dropping it, he picking it up and spun it into a circle. Hotch thinks he must look like a creep, eyes focused on every millisecond hearing that typical unzipping sound as Spencer pulls down his zipper. Pants pushed down to the floor and Spencer stepped out of it one foot at the time. 

There's something about this, he's not doing it to seduce Hotch, just like he requested, Reid just stripped like he's at home going to change from his work clothes to something more comfortable, no moving his hips or ever looking at his boss. Spencer is wearing a loose, bright blue underwear, his habit of wearing colourful clothes underneath all his formal look is endearing, especially seeing those mismatched socks, moss green with a star pattern on the left, orange with red stripes on the right. 

Spencer pulls off his tank top, unfurling his hair along with it, he bends down and was about to pull off his socks when– 

"Wait– what– wait!!" Spencer stumbles when Aaron suddenly stands up from the bed, his hands gripping Spencer's bare waist and manhandling a bit too roughly and it caught the younger man off guard. He lets out a surprised huff when Hotch shoves him on the bed on his stomach, gasping when he feels Hotch on top of him, trapping Spencer with both his knees on the sides of his thighs. 

He knows it's ridiculous, but Spencer felt the slightest bit of fear knowing that Aaron can just… do anything to him if he wants, he knows his boss won't hurt him of course, but the fact that Spencer is hanging on the belief that Aaron is a Good Person still makes his heart beat faster. 

Spencer hears the sound of zipper being undone, Hotch stripping on top of him impatiently. Oh… he wants to see that too… it isn't fair? How is it that Aaron gets to see everything while he's trapped on the bed? 

Reid swallow his silent protests when he feels Aaron's lips on his neck. 

This is the first time Hotch ever touched him more than hugging him and dragging him by the hand when he almost got shot for the 5th time because he thought it was a good idea to talk down an unsub without his vest on. Hotch is touching him and Spencer is dead silent about it, his mind still trying to wrap around the idea that he's basically naked under his boss who's stripping patiently. 

"Hotch– Aa…" 

"Aaron." Hotch finishes for him. "It's okay, Spencer." Reid didn't reply, squeezing the pillow under him viciously when Aaron grip each side of his underwear and tugging them down so roughly that Spencer hissed out loud at the feeling.

"I'm sorry…" Hotch's voice is so low, so… just so… It's doing things to reid and suddenly he doesn't really mind anymore. 

"It's okay…" at least Hotch is nice when he takes off his socks, it's sweet even, how he bends his legs and pulls them off one by one. Then, as Spencer suspected, Hotch rolls him to his back, the first time Reid is facing him when he's properly aroused. "Hey…" he whispers, pulling on Hotch's shirt collar, whispering at Aaron to take his clothes off first. And he does, but still when he's on top of Reid, when he keeps eye contact that makes the other squirm. 

He had never seen Aaron naked before, Spencer tracing his fingers on the old scars peppered on his body, to the little beauty marks on his neck and chest, and, aha… Aaron has a lot of body hair, a lot, it tickles him a bit and he just knows he's gonna get some kind of chafing later. 

"What, um… what do you wanna do…?" Spencer mumbles as he strokes Aaron's arm, going up to his neck and shoulder, sighing when he feels Aaron nuzzling his neck and his jaw… "I'll do whatever you want." Spencer adds. "Just… can't go all the way." 

Penetrative sex is a painful thing, at least at first, and it's unsaid but both of them are tired from the day's work and Hotch is mentally exhausted from all the stress. 

Spencer whispers to Aaron that hotels like these usually have condoms and lube stashed on the bedside drawer and he's right, but despite all that, it'll still gonna take a long while. Spencer would have to clean up, they both have to take things slow, foreplay that could take minutes till hours since that's what Spencer needs if he doesn't want to be a rigid, awkward mess. And both of them don't have the energy for that. What should they do, then…? 

Spencer reach around blindly until he finds the bottle of lube and squeezed a considerable amount into his hand, he hesitantly pulls Hotch into a soft kiss again when his hand move down ever so slowly until he finally wraps his slick, slippery fingers around Hotch's straining erection. 

"Sorry–" Spencer whispers between their kisses when he hears Hotch hissing loudly. "Sorry it's cold…" he has nothing to be sorry about but he gets sensitive during sex, sometimes he's extremely cheeky and insufferable and sometimes he gets just a little too soft and this is the latter. 

"Don't," Hotch replies, Reid is slowly stroking his cock, squeezing hard at the base and lightening up at the tip just how he likes it. Huh, how did Reid know what he likes? 

Hotch's hand moved from softly caressing his back to Spencer's shoulder, basically shoving him down on the bed, Spencer gasped in surprise when he– "Ah! Aaron, I– fuck…" Aaron shoved his hand away, hooking his hands on Spencer's thighs, spreading them, and hooking them on his waist as he forcefully grinds down on Spencer's groin. 

It feels so– it feels so good, it feels so fucking good, holy shit. Aaron is grinding down on him, squeezing Spencer's erection between their bodies, the fast, heavy stroke milking his cock from the mere friction alone. It feels good but it also fucking hurts, fucking Hotch and his fucking body hair, it's just everywhere! It scratches and tickles his skin and it– fuck, don't stop, don't stop, don't– "No…" Spencer groans loudly into their kiss when Aaron stops. 

Why the hell did he do that? What the hell is his problem!? He–

"I'm sorry–" Hotch blurts out. "I’m– I'm sorry, I have to stop…" He knows he pissed off his younger partner, but… "Had to stop, I was already close." 

Wait, "What…?" Spencer doesn't want to sound rude but he's actually caught off guard, they've only been doing this for a few minutes, so why? 

"It's you," Hotch whispers yet again, his voice is so soft, he must also feel humiliated to some degree. "I've never done this with a man before and there's just something about you…" Hotch started kissing his jaw, Spencer twitching from the feeling of Aaron's lips lingering on his skin, parting his mouth as he lick and suck in the softest way possible because Spencer has an inkling that Aaron’s a bit possessive when it comes to sex and he's fighting with every nerve in his body not to leave painful, glaring hickeys all over his partner aka him. 

Something… about him? Because he's a man or because he's Spencer? 

"It's okay," Spencer said, trying to sound as casual as possible. "We can just…" Spencer pushes Aaron away from his body, sure Spencer is loving all the kisses but he also needs something else. 

He slowly turns around and lays on his stomach, his legs spread wide as an obvious invitation that Hotch readily accepts, taking only a second before he slots himself between those thighs, his hands rubbing from Spencer's hips, waist and back slowly, going up and down in a firm, almost painful strokes with how deep Aaron is digging his thumb on his skin. 

"Can't do too much, Aaron, but I don't mind." Spencer is driving him crazy, Hotch is completely sure Spencer is doing this on purpose because those long, bony fingers of his are reaching back slowly spreading his cheeks apart till his rim strains, "Use me…" 

Use– Fuck, Hotch is so pissed off at the fact that Spencer knows, he knows this is driving him crazy yet he does it anyway, baiting Hotch to completely let loose and just, use him. If he can't fuck him, he can grind on him like Spencer’s just a toy, that's what he’s implying and Hotch is going to do just that. 

Hotch grabs both his wrists and forces them both to the pillow again. "Keep them there, don't you move." Spencer nods, he can do that, bringing his hands in and tucking it on his chest. 

He hissed when he smells latex and feels Hotch's thumb rubbing the liquid roughly between his cheeks, making sure that he's slick till the bottom, Spencer shudders when Hotch absentmindedly start massaging his perineum with his thumb, making Spencer whines as quietly as possible into his hand, it's nothing overwhelming, it just feels good.

Hotch stops much to Spencer's disappointment, but then he feels Hotch on top of him. Not just above him, he feels Hotch's body on top of him. Feels his chest on his back, feels his full weight trapping his body down. But that's not even close to the overwhelming feeling he gets after. 

Hotch shoved his cock between his cheeks and started grinding him down so hard that even with the lube, Spencer could still feel the burn of the movement, how his cock would drag low and slow and then push back up again, Spencer feeling his body being trapped by Hotch, how his damn heavy weight is making it hard to breathe but Aaron is enjoying himself and Spencer doesn’t want to stop that. Christ, he could feel how big Aaron is just by grinding on him, could feel his rim rubbed by the tip of his heated, rock hard erection, so hot and veiny, just… it makes him wonder if it'll even fit in him?

"Aaron–" Spencer gasps when he feels Hotch's fingers digging into his back, leaving white marks from his shoulders to the dip between his thighs, those same hands squeezing his ass painfully hard, grabbing them so roughly that Spencer can't handle it, one hand reaching back frantically only to have it pinned down on the bed, unable to wiggle them free no matter how hard he tries to get away. "Aaron, please…" 

There's a pause, Spencer gasping when Aaron starts kissing the side of his head, down to his cheek, his ear, damnit. "Shh… it's alright, Spencer. It’s alright." Alright, he said, but he didn't let up. 

Though he finally, oh god, finally… lift himself up and bracing himself on his elbows, finally letting the younger one breathe properly, letting Spencer's hand go. He can't blame Aaron though, he doesn't want to because he said it himself didn't he? Use me. And Aaron is doing just that. 

Aaron pulls apart his cheeks with his thumbs even more, enough to make Spencer hiss and grip the pillow tighter. 

It feels good for Aaron though, even better than before, he could get himself more snug in there as he continues to grind down on him. Fuck, he could just… feel his hole whenever he pulls back before thrusting up again. And this, this lust inside of him is infecting his brain with all sorts of sinful thoughts. 

He could do it, Hotch thinks. He could spread Spencer's legs apart and make him take it, he could pin him down, Hotch knows he's strong enough for that. Pin his back down with his body, pin his arms and wrist down with a forceful grip, use his legs to pin his calves in place and he could just make Spencer take his fucking cock, just take it, take it, take it. Just shut up and–

Wait, hold on, what was he thinking? What kind of depraved imagination did he come up with? Hotch got rid of those thoughts off of his head instantly. 

But he can't deny that this is so good that his mind is having trouble processing it. The way his precum is making it easier to slide his cock up and down, to grind in harder and harder, he could feel every single fucking time how the tip of his cock would brush past his hole, and it– fuck, it feels good, for some reason even something as simple as feeling Spencer clench under him every time is making his mind thought of those horrible things. He feels shameful, completely appalled by his wretched thoughts of forcing Spencer. 

For some kind of reassurance, Hotch suddenly kissed Spencer's neck, making the younger one's breath hitch under him, Spencer's thighs shaking a bit when Hotch parts his lips, mouth sucking on the spot, way too wet for a hickey while his teeth ever so slowly push and drags on Spencer's skin. Only when Spencer whimpers did he stop. That didn't last long though because Hotch starts doing the same thing to his shoulder down to his shoulder blade, all the while he hasn’t stopped grinding down on Spencer. 

It's almost embarrassing how quickly he feels his orgasm brewing, how his breathing gets heavier, his body more tense, Spencer could barely move from how hard Hotch is holding him.

Spencer is hurting; Aaron is squeezing his arms so tight that it turns his fingers white, he kept thrusting so hard that Spencer feels the sensitive skin around his rim randomly stinging with every pull, and to be completely honest, Aaron's weight on top of him is making it hard to breathe. Though Spencer doesn't tell him to stop and is not planning to, he knows Hotch is nearing his orgasm, knows that if he breaks that momentum, he would probably feel too sensitive to continue, or his orgasm might not end up as satisfying and that's the last thing Spencer wants. This all starts with him trying to make Hotch feel so good he'll forget about his, uh, absolutely ruined marriage, for an hour or so, and he’s going to do just that. 

Spencer's a man too, it happens so quickly that despite being prepared, it still surprises him nonetheless. Because Hotch suddenly freezes, Spencer feels hot semen staining his lower back right after and he shivers with disgust. But it's fine, after a few seconds and a few more drops of warm come wetting his skin, he knows that Hotch is done. 

Now finally flaccid, Hotch slowly moves off of him, rolling to his back to take deep breaths. Spencer's waist and thighs are aching, the skin between his cheeks and especially around the rim starts stinging from the burn of previous friction, he desperately wants to just roll back and heave in some breaths but he can't fucking do that, can he? He's not going to smear this whole bedsheet with his boss' drying semen. Christ, this is both humiliating and irritating. 

Spencer pushes himself off the bed, still pretty much erect as he stands on wobbly legs, carrying the damp towel with him. He didn’t look back at Aaron once as he stumbled his way into the bathroom. 

Well. They finished what they set out to do, right? Spencer tosses the towel to the laundry bin and walk inside the shower, making sure that the water is hot before stepping into it. 

Spencer squeaked from the sudden stream, gasping in pleasure as the water relieved some of his tension. He reached back to, ugh, rub the slippery semen off his back, it just feels… wrong but the water cleaned it up so it's fine. 

His head thumps lightly on the wall, wondering what the hell he's doing. 

Whatever though, he's still turned on and hard and that's really numbing his critical thinking. 

The bathroom reverberates his moans when he wraps his fingers around himself, pumping up and down his length in an impatient manner. He just wants to fucking get off already so he can function normally again. 

It's a love hotel, these things are bound to happen, right? So he doesn't care if he's letting out sounds here and there, he's not being super loud and fuck it, if he wants to jerk off in the shower he'll fucking do it. 

His other hand hits the wall and curls into a fist, his mouth breathing hard on the tiles, he's not sure what's dripping down his chin anymore, is it water or spit? He spread his legs carefully, making sure he won't fucking slip and bust his head or something but he needs to thrusts into his hands, it feels good. It feels so, so good…

The hot water is fogging up the shower's glass and mirror outside and he couldn't care less. His hand moving from the walls to the glass, his shaking palm wiping up the fog, he's almost bouncing on his legs now with how good it feels and how much he wants to get off. 

Oh god, he's going to come, he's going to come– he's right there! Right– he just needs a few more minutes, just a little more… a little… 

"Spencer?" 

Fuck. 

He gasped loudly and had to bite down a loud groan from his frustration. Great, Aaron is here, just when he was about to come, that's just–

"Aaron…?" Reid whispers when he feels the shower's glass door being opened, the older man slowly stepping inside. Spencer… he knows what's happening but it's really hard to think right now, not with Hotch pulling him off the wall, not with him pushing Spencer on the glass door, not with Spencer feeling just how fucking hot the surface is. All that is forgotten when Hotch presses his back to his chest, kissing and pecking Spencer's neck and shoulder again as his hand rubs his waist roughly, his hips, his upper thigh, his– 

"Aaron! Aaron… oh god… fuck…" 

Spencer's forehead thump on the glass, lips bitten down and his face scrunch up in pleasure. It does feel different when someone else is jerking you off, someone who has the same sex as you, who knows just how to pull, tug and squeeze just right. Spencer feels his eyes rolling back, his eyelids fluttering close, mouth open in a silent gasp. 

Hotch grips his erection harder and Spencer keens, feeling his thumb pushing down on the tip with each fast stroke, would rub up and down his prominent vein and his slit and– 

"AH!! AARON– MORE, YES, yes just like that, oh god, god, faster, faster! More, goddamnit, I'm so close, I'm so close, baby, just like that… just–" 

Hotch's brain glitched for a second there. Reid's the type that slips in nicknames when he's having sex, huh? Well, he isn't sure what to do with that information, but it's sexy, god, that sounds so sexy. 

"Baby, yeah, more, oh god, Aaron, I'm gonna–"

When Spencer's body twitches hard and freezes, Hotch squeezes his cock oh so painfully tight, all hard and fast till he fucking comes in his hand, nails dragging hopelessly on the slippery surface, staining the glass and his fingers. 

He strokes him through his orgasm, then he lightens up ever so slowly, only letting go when Spencer's soft in his hand and so very, very satisfied…

It took the younger a couple of seconds to truly get himself back to earth. It was so fucking good that if he isn't so exhausted he would've loved a second round. Despite the orgasm, his brain is still numb from pleasure so it's not really his fault is it? When he turns around, humming and curling his hands around Hotch's shoulder, when he leans in close, so close that he's sure Hotch would pull back and push him away but… he's playing along? 

Their foreheads pressed together, both of them breathing hard, lips just a breath apart. "Thanks…" Spencer whispers. "That felt so good…"

And Spencer, Spencer was about to fucking kiss his boss when– wait. 

Wait– Fuck. Fuck, this is his boss. This is Aaron…

Spencer quickly pulls away as the haze passes, looking everywhere but Hotch's eyes. He sounds stupid trying to make excuses why he needs to shower alone but Hotch seems to understand, washing himself under the stream quickly before walking out. 

Spencer's left alone again and for a second he just stands there unmoving. Yeah, so… that happened.

=

Spencer feels awkward when he walks out only wearing a towel to see Hotch who's already fully dressed. Spencer, at the speed of light, managed to get his singlet and underwear on, he wants to put on the rest of his clothes too but he actually has long hair and he needs to blow dry them first. 

Hotch didn’t say anything, it would’ve been creepy if Spencer doesn't know his boss well enough to know that he's just… thinking. At least Spencer made him think of something else other than the divorce papers, right? Mission accomplished? Wow, he's trying to make this less awkward but it's not happening. 

The only brush he has is the flimsy one he got from the bathroom so it was a nightmare getting his hair to settle down, they always bounce back every time he tries to straighten them so he just gives up, putting the rest of his clothes back on. 

Hotch is trying, and failing, not to focus on Spencer dressing up, it feels… It feels weirdly disappointing when he sees Spencer almost fully dressed. He noticed how the younger is looking around for his belt and Hotch picks it up for him, hidden under the chair. 

"Thanks– I, um…" Spencer really doesn't know what to say when Hotch, without asking, starts putting his belt on for him. 

His fingers slowly pulling the tip after every loop, it feels kinda rough but nothing too hard. He buckled it up for him, Spencer doesn’t even realize how close they're standing now. 

Okay. So, that's weird. But when Hotch was about to step back, Spencer clears his throat to get his attention. "Hey, Hotch, uh, here." Spencer hands him the folded tie. "Put this on for me too." 

Oh, Spencer surprised himself with how bold he is, but what the fuck is he trying to accomplish? He just has this weird inkling that this whole thing, stripping and dressing up thing, kinda turns Aaron on in a weird way? Like not enough to get him hard obviously, but enough to make him want it. Spencer's testing the water but for what, exactly? This is a one-time thing, why is he taking notes on what turns his boss on? 

Hotch pulls his shirt collar up, looping his tie around and actually putting it on for him, his tie turning out neater than it would whenever he did it himself. 

Again, when Hotch was about to walk away, Spencer stops him. "Can you tuck in the back of my shirt? I can’t really see…" Spencer turns around, and true enough, there's a slight wrinkle on the bottom of his shirt, not anything he needs help tidy up though and both of them know this but for some reason, Hotch just follows. 

Reid didn't feel anything for a second and was just about to ask when he feels Hotch yank him back by the waist, he pretty much shoved the shirt down and going a step further by making sure they're all neatly tucked by rubbing his fingers hard from the back to the front. Spencer has to stop his gasps whenever Hotch would shove in his perfectly tucked shirt roughly for no fucking reason. It seems like Hotch also has a limit on how much teasing Spencer dish out. Spencer's not complaining though. 

He almost stumbles when Hotch gives his waist one last squeeze before finally letting him go for real this time. Spencer’s done dressing up but he feels eyes watching the undone button on the bottom of his shirt from all of Hotch's rough handling. Hotch didn't make a move to fix it though, probably not wanting to touch Spencer's hip again. 

Spencer finished up the rest of his clothes, putting his socks and his shoes on, tapping the tips once to get them snug before walking to the door. 

Both of them have been silent till now, looking all prim and proper like they were before. Spencer went to crack open the door, the slightest orange light of the hall seeps in but it instantly disappears when Hotch slams the door back close and single-handedly turns Spencer around. 

Shocked and confused, Spencer doesn’t fight it when Hotch shoves him up the door and kisses him full. 

Fuck it, Spencer pulls on his shoulder and yank him flush to his chest and deepens the kiss shamelessly, his brows frowning and lips parting to roughly kiss Aaron's mouth, open-mouthed and dirty, Spencer would be disgusted when their spit wets his chin but he couldn't care less, not when Hotch shoved his tongue inside his mouth, when Spencer bites the other’s lower lip when they part for air till Aaron was groaning at him. Mm, that sounds nice, Spencer decides that he likes it and he's going to pull more of that off of him. 

It was Spencer that initiated more, telling Hotch that hey, it's not just a kiss, they're not going to stop at a kiss, no, Hotch opened the floodgates and none of them can stop it. Spencer grips Hotch's hair, keeping him in place so he could kiss down Aaron's neck. 

Spencer fucking hates how physically stronger Hotch is compared to him. How easy it is for the older man to drag him off the door despite Spencer's loud whining. 

Spencer felt Hotch pulling on the belt that he himself puts on just minutes before and unbuckling it with the patience of a toddler, roughly unzipping Spencer's pants and swallowing his loud moan with another round of rough kisses. 

Spencer's not going to back down without a fight, though. He pushed the older man off his body with all the strength he can muster, before Hotch can wrestle him down, he slip to the side and this time he shoved Hotch to fucking sit on the bed. He didn't even get to ask Spencer what the hell he's doing before the younger one went to his knees in seconds unzipping Aaron’s pants impatiently and– 

"FUCK–" 

Oh, he's cursing! He's cursing and that makes Spencer giddy. He got his head between Hotch's thighs, his fingers spreading the zipper apart as much as it can go before leaning in and dragging his tongue on Aaron’s cock through the thin material of his underwear, his putting his tongue flat and dragging it up and down as hard as he can, wetting the fabric with spit that Spencer obviously doesn't give a shit about. He knows it drives him crazy, it apparently entertains him and Hotch knows this. This time it's Hotch's turn to grip his hair in place painfully before shoving his underwear down with one push. God, he's so fucking hard already and it's all because of the cheeky thing sitting between his thighs. 

He knows Spencer can be cheeky when he feels like it. It drives Hotch absolutely insane when he looks down and he sees Spencer, trying to pull pry fingers off his hair to lighten the tension but still supporting that grin on his face. Hotch… he tries not to curse, he never does in front of someone else but he keeps doing it under his breath now, Spencer managed to pull all that out of him and he knows how smug he is about it. 

He's going to wipe that grin off his face though, he’s– "Gonna wipe this grin off my face?" The younger man says knowingly like the profiler he is. "After I turn you on just by letting you fix up my clothes, hm?" Spencer is teasing him, it probably gave him a big wave of satisfaction from knowing he manage to fluster his usually always stoic boss, and Hotch has to admit that he's impressed by his little game. He's going to make him regret it (not really, but oh well). 

Spencer whines when the grip gets harder, when Hotch yanks his hair up so hard that Spencer is leaning up on his knees, pulling a real reaction of pain from the younger. Spencer kept trying to get his grip off but he didn't fight it when Hotch drags him closer, even voluntarily opening his mouth as wide as he can go, sticking his tongue out in a blatant invitation. 

It's so fucking dirty, holy shit, he's so fucking shameless. Hotch's brain froze for a second from the sight of his usually awkward, youngest teammate now waiting for his boss to face fuck him. If it's anyone who he knows is naturally flirty, this image might not break his mind this badly but because it's Spencer… Hotch isn't sure how his brain is still functioning but it's functioning enough to grip his cock and slide it into Spencer's mouth. Sliding is such a soft word to describe him gripping the man’s jaw to make sure it stays open.  

"Ha… fuck…" Hotch moans when the sudden tight wetness envelops him, Spencer letting Hotch force his jaw open, Spencer trying his damnest to get that cock in as far down his throat on the first try. He didn't manage much, just 2 or 3 inches but the moment he starts bobbing his face up and down, the more he can get into his mouth. That's good, that's nice, but the thing is, Hotch is already feeling his orgasm coming fast and he needs to– 

Spencer sounds confused and alarmed when the hand on his hair lets go, that confusion turns into surprise as Hotch grabs each side of his cheeks instead, forcing him there as Hotch thrusts his cock inside his mouth and down his throat, making Spencer let out a real, almost panicked sound.

He kept fucking his mouth, gagging Spencer again and again, Spencer fighting every urge in his body to push Aaron off because he knows now that's what Aaron likes. What triggered his orgasm is Hotch looking down and seeing that previously smug face now turns all red and teary, nose flush and lips painfully spread open, he keeps eye contact until he, shamefully enough, comes in around a minute or two inside his mouth. He almost passed out when he felt Spencer's throat contracting around him as he swallowed his semen. Not like he has any choice, he would’ve gagged if he didn't.  

A wet squelching sound can be heard when Hotch finally, ever so slowly slides his softening cock out of Spencer's mouth. Spencer instantly heaving for air, coughing a few times and wiping the spit and semen off his lips and chin. Hotch could hear Spencer curse under his breath, finally getting his breathing back to normal. 

Hotch wonders if he's twenty years younger, can he get hard again so quickly? Because his cock twitched at the sight of Spencer looking absolutely ruined. 

That looks so good, Hotch wants to take a picture of it but then realized how vulgar that is and what a disaster it will be if someone accidentally sees it. 

Hotch grabbed Spencer's shoulders up, the younger falling to the man's chest with a soft 'oof', hissing when Hotch's hands gripped and squeeze his ass roughly, just about to yank his pants down too when Spencer whines, pretty much slapping his hands away. "Don't! You're gonna get me hard too and you never sucked cock before have you?" Spencer said with a pout in a matter-of-fact way. 

Then Spencer moves away from him, going to the bathroom to wash his face and rinse his mouth, thankfully none of that stained his collars and tie. 

When he got out, Hotch already zipped his pants back on, he looked disheveled and there were some stained spots on his pants but nothing that won't be covered with the bottom of his suit, small blessings. 

"Let's go." Hotch said and their way back out isn't so awkward this time. After Spencer paid the fee, Hotch even opened the car door for him, ugh what a gentleman. He seems much more relaxed than before, Spencer's theory is true, orgasm does help you relax, he just didn't know Hotch needed more than one. 

=

"Pretty boy! How was Connecticut?" 

"Hm… Ultimately uneventful." 

Thankfully, Hotch had his dry cleaning in his office so no one had to see his come-stained pants and sweaty shirt. 

Well. Spencer hopes that what happened earlier would be considered 'uneventful' compared to what will happen tonight. Tonight when Spencer promised to show his apparently not-so-straight, clueless boss on how to fuck a man proper. 

Besides, he would probably need those orgasms again after he signed those damn divorce papers, right?