#it's just something my brain does where if it's rb by a mutual than it's an awesome post thag I have to rb too.

[h0tchner]

Something More (Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader)

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: Written as a request for the loml, Abby! (@heliotropehotch!) "Could I have a hotch x reader request thats got a love confession- maybe a hurt comfort scene where the reader is maybe torn up about something like self deprecation or some cop makes an off-handed compliment and he cups her cheeks and wipes the tears away? Pretty please 🥺"

word count: 3.2k

includes: love confessions! hurt/comfort, protective!hotch, mutual pining!!!, kissing, a little teaser of sexytimes, work tension, BAU!reader, crying and other emotions, rude af deputies, fluff soooo much fluff

rating: 18+ (cursing, crude nicknames, suggestive sexual mentions, and brief explicit sexual content at the very end)

a/n: HELLO BESTIES! I hope you love this one! If you want a smutty part two, let me know. PLS (!!!!!) interact if you liked this fic; rb, comment, like and/or send me a request if you have ideas for future fics! i love y’all! - rivka💞

some pals tags: @arsonhotchner @laurensprentiss @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie

“It’s time to give the profile,” Hotch announces.

Six words. One sentence. Zero hesitation.

“Go and gather everybody in the bullpen,” he directs Spencer, who nods and quietly exits the conference room to collect your team and the rest of the Sherrif’s department of this small, Wisconsin town.

You stand on the opposite side of the table from your boss, looking at him expectantly. Hotch meets your gaze. His tongue darts out from between his lips as he glares at you from beneath thick lashes. You wait for your instructions, but the instructions don’t come. Rather, you both stand there in a staring contest, unmoving.

You can’t help but feel bare under his scrutiny, but this feeling is nothing new. Every time Hotch looks at you, it feels as if every fibre of your being is on fire. It’s been this way since the very first day you started with the BAU, and, over time, the flame has only burned brighter.

You and Hotch have grown close over the two years you’ve been with the team: closer than he’s been with any of his other agents, even Rossi. It all started with one long night spent together in his office, sharing cold Chinese food, scribbling away at mountains of paperwork. It was then, sitting across the desk from him, laughing at his incredulous reaction when he dropped some Lo Mein on an After-Action Report, that you knew: you were in deep. From then on, your Chinese food office “dates” became a regular occurrence. And then, those regular occurrences transformed into other regular occurrences; to name a few: rides on the jet, side by side, sharing soft glances and tired smiles after hard cases… holding hands to comfort each other when emotionally vulnerable… and even bringing you your favourite coffee on mornings that you’ve needed an extra boost. All these little moments of kindness and care are what made you fall in love with him. You would cross the line from coworkers to more in a heartbeat if you knew for certain that he felt the same way about you. But you refuse to take a risk on losing what you currently have with Hotch for the chance at something more.

The way that Hotch looks at you now, tall and commanding, feels very much like something more… it’s incredibly intimate. He’s effectively stripped away all the layers of protection you’ve built up to do your job with one pointed glance. What you don’t know is that he too feeling the same way, and is toeing a line between being your boss, being your friend, and being your “something more.”

Hotch breathes out hard through his nose. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he does. His jaw ticks. He shifts on his feet.

“I want you to sit this one out,” he says.

“Hotch?” You question, puzzled. Nothing about this day has prepared you for him to say that. You start racking your brain, trying to figure out why he would give you such a ridiculous order. Did you piss him off somehow? Did you play-flirt with Morgan too much in the car? Overlook an important lead? Did he not like the coffee you made him this morning?

Looking over at him, you swear he almost looks conflicted… but it doesn’t last.

“This is not up for debate. Do you understand me? You’re sitting this one out.” He repeats, steadfast.

“I don’t understand, what did I do wrong?” You ask more defensively this time, wishing he would give you more information. Something, anything besides the “SSA Aaron Hotchner” routine he was pulling on you now.

“I never said you did anything wrong.” Hotch moves forward a step, finally breaking eye contact, opting to gather files and loose papers into his arms.

“So, then what it is?” You cross your arms, stepping forwards as well, challenging him with your posture.

He doesn’t respond, nor does he look at you. Instead, he lumps more files into his arms before rounding the table, moving swiftly toward the door.

You have never, ever disobeyed one of his orders because his orders have always made sense… until now.

“Hotch,” you say sternly, your stubborn feet moving to stand between him and the exit before your logical brain can stop you.

He’s practically up against you, cornering you between his solid body and the old wooden door. His height dominates your shorter frame, and the heat coming off his body is positively criminal. Your heart flutters in your chest as he stares you down, calculating his next move.

“Out of my way, Agent Y/L/N.” He breathes out, tensing his jaw.

“Fine,” you stutter, “just tell me why and then I’ll let you go.” Your confidence wavers as you’re a little taken aback by his official use of your title and last name.

You’re hurt, confused… and he knows this. No matter how hard you’re putting on your tough-girl FBI face, Hotch can see right through it. He knows this order is unjustified, but he has his own reasons: reasons that he can’t get into. Not now.

Hotch lets his eyes dart to the side, past your head, not daring to look you in the eyes. He wills himself to be gentle.

“I can’t tell you, but I need you to trust me. Sit this one out.” He verbalizes, looking at you a little softer now. His face relaxes a little more into the Hotchner you’ve come to know: the one who calls his son every night to read a bedtime story, the one who grins every time you beat him in chess.

You two stand there a moment longer, your heart racing from the heat of the quarrel and your current proximity to your Unit Chief.

Hotch opens his mouth to say something else, but a knock on the door behind you stops him in his tracks. You step aside and he whips open the door; a very apologetic Spencer stands behind it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Spencer says, clearing his throat awkwardly, “but everyone is ready in the bullpen.”

“Thank you,” Hotch nods, stepping forward to leave, but you grab a hold of his arm.

“Hotch,” you begin, not entirely sure what you want to say.

“Later,” he answers, finishing the unspoken thought.

With that, he’s out the door and you’re left alone with only stale coffee and a bunch of disorganized files to keep you company.

You close the door behind them with a sigh, letting yourself rest against it again, closing your eyes for a moment in defeat. Three days on this case. Three days of hard work, interviews, and research just to get benched in the end zone. You wish that you didn’t love Hotch, because maybe if you didn’t, it would be easier to disobey him. Opening your eyes again, you scan the quiet room. Then, something in front of you catches your eye and you get an idea.

On the table rests one of the precinct’s phones. It is all too easy to use the conference feature to listen in on one of the other phone lines: specifically, one in the bullpen.

You grin and rush over to the device, feeling a little bit sheepish for not listening to Hotch, but you push the buttons anyway, and bring the receiver up to your ear.

At first, all you hear is the shuffling of papers and muffled voices. You take a seat, leaning back in your chair like the cat who caught the canary. Several more moments pass of bureaucratic white noise, but then, someone speaks.

“Where’s the slutty one?” A male voice whispers.

“Oh, Agent Y/N? Probably on her knees somewhere waiting for her boss to come back.” A second male voice snickers back, matching the volume of the first.

You gasp, the phone slipping out of your hand, landing on the table with a loud thunk.

Scrambling, you grab it again, your other hand coming to rest over your open mouth.

“Don’t know why he wouldn’t let us use her as bait. This whole case could’ve been wrapped up and done by now if we just stuck her in a skimpy dress and shoved her out on the street.” One of them muses.

“Obviously because he’s sleeping with her.” The other mutters. “Agent Hotchner looked like he was going to take your head off when you asked him about it. Thought he was going to deck you for suggesting disguising her as a hooker to lure this guy out.”

“Yeah, he did. She looks like the victims, though. Bet she’s a whore like them too.”

“Deputies, we’re starting.” You hear a third voice pipe up. This time it’s one you recognize: it’s Hotch. “This is your final warning. I don’t want to hear another word out of you for the rest of the day. Not only is this wildly inappropriate, but it is insulting and vile. If I hear either of you speak about, look at, or interact with Agent Y/N, I will make sure you are both charged with harassment and fired from this department. Is that clear?”

With that, your eyes nearly pop out of your head. The deputies mumble something back, but you can’t hear over the sound of papers rustling.

Stunned, you set the phone back in its holder and force air into your lungs.

Waves of thoughts come crashing down on you. You have so many questions and so many answers and it’s all just… too much.

Suddenly, you know that you need to be anywhere but here.

You stand, shoving the chair aside and burst out of the conference room, fuming. You power-walk down the hall, and past the bullpen, focused on getting yourself outside and into the fresh air. Understandably, you don’t look up as you pass the profile briefing, so you don’t see Hotch’s brow furrow at the sight of you. You also don’t see him hand his papers to JJ, excuse himself, and race to follow you out the front door.

Once you’re outside in the parking lot, you look up at the cloudy, grey sky, and the tears start to fall. You feel guilty and angry; part of you wants to run away and cry, but the other part of you wants to walk straight up to those men and kick them straight in the dick. They not only called you vile names, but they also called the victims – those poor, dead women – the same. You sniffle, thinking about how Hotch stepped in and protected you, stood up for you.

Hotch… the thought of him makes you cry a little harder.

You start to pace around, kicking gravel as you went.

Were you that obvious? Was your crush so rampant that two low-level deputies in the middle of nowheresville picked up that easily on how you really felt about your boss?

“Fuck you two,” you curse under your breath to nobody as you choke back sobs. You kick a large piece of gravel as hard and as far as you can, but it doesn’t help.

“Are you okay?” A voice prods from behind you, gently, hesitantly, as if not to spook you. It’s a curt baritone, laced with concern. It’s Hotch.

“Hotch,” you breathe, turning to face him, furiously wiping tears away from your eyes.

“What happened?” He frowns, stepping closer to you, a comforting hand reaching forward to take yours.

Any other day you would grasp it contently, letting him console you. Today? All you can hear are the deputy’s comments. Sleeping with her. Whore. On her knees. You’re embarrassed and ashamed, so, you involuntarily step back.

“It’s nothing,” you put your hands up, looking down at your feet.

“Y/N,” Hotch says, his heart pounding in his chest.

You look back up, locking on his beautiful, angular face. You see every feature clouded in a haze of sorrow and concern.

You know you must swallow your pain and try to get it out. He wasn’t about to let you off easy.

“You… they… I…” you begin, but never finish your sentence. Instead, you start to cry again.

Wordlessly, Hotch moves to cup your face in his hands. They’re large and slightly calloused, encasing your cheeks as his thumbs gently swipe away the tears. His soft eyes search your watery ones; despite your better instinct, you bring your hands up to rest on his chest. You feel his breathing hitch. One of his hands moves from your face to cover your smaller hand against his chest. The two of you stay there, just like that, for another handful of heartbeats. You focus on his hands and how warm and safe they make you feel. Soon enough, you stop crying and gather the courage to speak.

“I heard them.” You whisper, not trusting yourself to say another word. You know that Hotch knows exactly who “them” is, and exactly what it is that you’ve heard.

His brow creases and his hand grips yours tighter. He cleans another tear off your cheek, and then lets that hand down to ball in a fist at his side.

“I’m going to kill them.” Hotch states, furious and heartbroken.

“Me first.” You sniffle.

Your boss sighs, giving you a heartfelt look. Leave it to you to make a joke at a time like this.

“I told them this morning that if I ever heard them say another thing about you, I was going to have their badges. I should’ve kicked them off this case hours ago.” He huffs, closing his eyes, letting his other hand, the one that was covering yours, drop down to his side.

You know this look all too well. You know he’s blaming himself.

“It’s not your fault,” you offer, smoothing your hands over his chest to settle on his upper arms. “Hotch, look at me.”

He doesn’t at first, but eventually, he opens his eyes. His hands open and close at his sides, as if he’s fighting them to be still.

“I’m sorry.” He breathes out. “For everything. For handling this how I did.”

“I’m not.” You chime in, feeling braver, calmer now that you’re here with him. Your comment earns a quizzical glance and a slight head tilt from Hotch, urging you to go on. “You stood up for me. You honoured me. You respected me. You protected me. You –“

With a fierce momentum, your next sentence is swallowed by Hotch’s lips pressing into yours. His hands come up to rest on your hips, and then circle around your waist to pull you closer. He’s warm and soft and intense; you whimper into the kiss, moving your hands to rest on the back of his neck and card in his hair. The kiss is over far too soon for your liking, both of you needing to pull back and inhale.

Hotch looks at you with heavy eyes, hands gripping your hips. He smells like coffee and pine, with a hint of something spicier. Everything about him is overwhelming yet grounding.

“Finally,” you whisper, hands clasped around his neck. “It’s about damn time.”

“It is,” is all he musters, still dazed by the audacity of his own actions.

“Aaron?” You lick your lips, feeling his hands squeeze you tight at your use of his first name.

“Yeah?” He can’t help but start to smile, showing off his adorable dimples and crinkled lines around his eyes.

“I love you; do you know that?” You say in earnest.

Aaron giggles, giggles at your confession, and then attacks your lips again, making you yelp at the surprise. His lips detach from yours only to pepper kisses on your tear-stained cheeks, jaw, and forehead.

“I love you too,” he breathes out, giddier than you’ve ever seen him. He looks like a kid in a candy shop, and it makes your heart leap into your throat.

Just then, a car beeps on the road, startling you two. You’re suddenly reminded where you are, and why you’re here. The thought of having to go back inside makes you groan, and you bury your head into his chest for a moment. He hums into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head.

Reluctantly, you pull yourself off his chest to look up at him.

“Forget about them,” you say, “go finish giving the profile so we can close this case and get the hell out of this town so you can take me home and show me how much you love me.” You smile at him, pulling him in for another, lighter kiss.

He grins against your lips, meeting you for another smooch.

“Yes ma’am,” Hotch replies, giving you a kiss on the tip of your nose.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months later, you and Aaron are coming down from your highs, sweaty and blissed-out after an amazing lovemaking session. After the team wrapped up the case and made it back to Virginia in one piece, you and Hotch went out to dinner the next night. He took you to dine in at the Chinese restaurant that you both usually ordered from on those nights you both spent pining and yearning in his office. It was… perfect. He was perfect. Just as your friendship had blossomed, so did your relationship. One date led to another, one gesture turned into more, and you and Aaron settled into life as a couple with ease. You hadn’t brought up the incident with the deputies since it had happened the afternoon that Hotch had followed you out to the parking lot to wipe away your tears.

Now, as you lay in his arms, wrapped in his strong, loving, embrace, your mind wanders back to their words. However, you don’t feel animosity toward them, rather it makes you giggle.

“What’s so funny hot stuff?” Aaron cracks open an eye and smiles down at you. One arm is tucked underneath his head, and the other is tracing patterns on the bare skin of your shoulder.

“Oh, just that case we had in Wisconsin a few months back.” You nuzzle deeper into his chest with another laugh.

Hotch frowns, recalling the memory, thinking about the way those awful men spoke about you.

“How is that funny?” He asks, hesitantly.

“They called me a whore.” You say nonchalantly, peering innocently into his amber eyes. You bring your palm up to swipe across his cheek softly, feeling the light stubble of his jaw underneath your fingertips.

Both of his eyes are open now, and his hand motions cease their patterns on your skin. He’s confused, and the face he’s giving you is downright adorable. It makes you giggle again.

You detach yourself from his grasp and sit yourself up, carefully shimmying down the bed. Aaron’s eyes never leave you.

You nestle yourself between his legs and look up at him with a smirk.

“They were partially right.” You offer, studying the small changes in his face, watching as his eyes glaze over with lust for the second time that night.

“I am a whore.” You pout suggestively and flutter your eyelashes. “A whore for you, Hotch.”

He shakes his head at you in amusement and chuckles, but it quickly turns into a deep, throaty moan as you wrap your lips around the tip of him.

As you start to bob your head on his already hardening length, you think to yourself: as much as I hate to say it... someone should really give those two deputies a raise.

[isitstraightvodka]

Strip

in which gwil doesn't like you and it's your mission to find out why.

pairing: gwilym lee x fem!reader

word count: 4.5k+

warnings: enemies to lovers, smut (the rough kind), oral (both m and f receiving), angst, swearing, alcohol use

a/n: hello my loves! i present to u what i have been working on for a while, it's filthy so read ahead w caution 😂😳 i really hope u enjoy it and please let me know if u do. any feedback, asks / rbs, would be much appreciated xx also gif credit is @mazzelloplots​ 💕

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

You had no idea what you'd done for Gwil to hate your guts but it must be dead serious because he just about didn't give you any attention whenever you were in the same room. It was infuriating, as each day passed, you racked your brain to remember if you'd done or said anything for him to act like this around you but as always, nothing came to mind. All you got was a cold stare, or no eye contact at all, and at the very least, a few sentences but that was it. It made it even worse that both of you were friends with Ben, after all that's how you were introduced to each other, you figured he'd be a good guy as was evident the first time you met, a regular mutual friend greeting; first handshake, small smiles and twinkling new eyes but ever since then, everything had changed.

Every time you went out and saw Gwil, he either said nothing to you but "Hi." or he'd rush off somewhere else the moment you approached him. The cold shoulder did not do anything for your confidence, you were a friendly person and loved meeting new people but this was something else entirely, the confusion soon turned to tension and anger, ripping at your hair during lonely nights in your apartment, thinking why doesn't he like me? Then you went to Ben who just shrugged and said he'd warm up to you eventually, which you found incredibly difficult to believe, you weren't having it, it had been almost half a year and no progress, you'd had enough, you had to confront him.

Your opportunity arose only a week later, during a party at Joe's house.  it made your muscles tense up knowing you were going to see Gwil, and it wasn't fair of him to give you this sort of treatment without a shred of explanation. Everything was in full-swing when you arrived by your lonesome, but you didn't waste no longer than ten minutes making your move, so there you were, drink in hand, when you cornered him talking to Lucy. Walking head held high, you approached them, and Lucy smiled when she noticed you, you shared a kiss on the cheek before exchanging respective compliments on each other's looks, then your attention went to him.

"Hey, can I talk to you?"

Both he and Lucy looked at you before the blonde nudged him with her arm, giving him a cool stare, as if to say, "Go sort this out", which was true since you and her had talked about the situation too, and her response was "It's between you and him, so get in there girl and stand up for yourself", and right now, tonight, you were going to heed her advice.

Gwil took a deep breath and walked next to you as you made your way to the nearest room, where it was quiet enough to talk, but the walk there seemed to stretch on for hours instead of a matter of seconds. You could feel the anxiety flooding through your body when his arm brushed your shoulder, you could tell he wasn't looking at you, his fingers gripping his wine glass a little too tight. Some sort of emotion hung between the two of you, you couldn't put your finger on it but it was something strong, something deep, Great another thing for you to be confused about. What you didn't know is that Gwil felt it too. 

After what felt like an age, you entered the guest bedroom, all neat and empty, leaving the impression nobody had stayed in there for a long time. Gwil had his free hand tucked into the pocket of his dark jeans, standing by the door once he closed it, silencing the bustle of the party, but still didn't give you his attention. You took a deep breath and tapped your nail on the rim of your drink, allowing your heartbeat to decrease, opening the conversation very kindly.

"I believe there is something we have to discuss."

All he did was part his lips and take a swig of red wine, leaning back against the wall, crossing one ankle over the other. Not one word left his mouth, he didn't move an inch and it took a lot in you not to start raising your voice. Why does he not want to talk to you? What is up his ass? Fucking say something, you bastard! The tension in the room was too stifling for you to cope with so you spoke again, but harsher.

"Fuck, you should man up and talk to me like a decent bloke, I thought you would be."

And that's when he finally looked at you. Without even realising it, the suddenness of eye contact made shivers run down your spine, deep blue eyes staring into yours, brows furrowed in faint disgust.

"Hate to burst your bubble then, love."

More shivers, rippling throughout your bones so fast you were almost afraid he'd be able to notice you slightly trembling. His voice wasn't supposed to do that....but it did, from the way he said it, from the way you finally saw his eyes in clear view, how fucking hot he looked just standing there, how had you not noticed that before? Because his blind hatred of you clouded that fact. You shook the thoughts out of your head and stood your ground.

"I seriously have no clue why you been acting like this around me. I have been nothing but kind to you, I haven't said one bad word to you, I truly wanted us to be friends but you find an excuse to escape me every chance you get!"

Your cheeks flushed red once the words left your lips, your free hand scrunching up into a fist, nails digging into your palm. Gwil all but sighed and...was that a smirk you saw? No, just a trick of the lights. The point of his shoe tapped the carpet as he looked down at his half-empty glass, collecting his thoughts.

"Not a bad word? I heard you talking to Joe the other week, you called me a dickhead."

"I have every reason to, you barely talk to me. This is the most you've talked to me in weeks."

"If you have reasons, then I have them too."

"Fucking tell me then instead of practically ignoring me! It's childish."

"So I'm the child but you're the one yelling." He cocked an eyebrow, was that another smirk? He's got me so confused? Is that what he wants?

"How do you expect me to react? I haven't appreciated the cold shoulder, Gwilym."

"I don't appreciate you running your mouth."

"Could just tell me whatever reasons you have instead of this."

You and him went back forth, trying to fight each other but it didn't seem to do anything good, it only heightened the tension between you two but a specific kind of tension. One you knew now and one he managed to figured out seeing you in front of him, raising your voice. In this moment, he saw how attractive you were, more so than he already thought, your face heating up and your hair glowing from the muted lights, the dress hugging your body almost provocatively, silver diamonds hanging from your ears and cherry-coloured lips parted slightly between words. You were so sexy and the alcohol buzzing through him wasn't helping, but this was the reason for it all. He fancied you.

"Look, it's complicated." He sighed, resting his head back against the wall. You had to bite back a laugh, is he serious?

"No, it's not. Open your mouth and just tell me."

But it turns out he didn't need to open his mouth, at least not the way you expected him to. It happened swiftly, too fast for you to comprehend, all you really saw was his glass fall to the floor, wine staining the carpet, then he crossed the room over you within three strides, took your face in his hands and crushed his lips against yours.

Your eyes flew open in surprise at the sudden pressure of his kiss...his kiss? You could barely understand what was happening, he held onto you like he needed air to breathe, you could taste the wine on his tongue, it was intoxicating, it felt...nice but was the wine nice or the aggression of his mouth? Questions swirled your mind, it didn't help your emotions during this moment, you didn't realise your mouth had opened on its own which allowed him to slip his tongue in a little and close the gap between you again, the second kiss even harder and more passionate, the softest groan of relief and delight from him ringing in your ears. You almost let yourself fall under his spell before you caught yourself and made a muffled squeak, your hand finding his jacket and pushing him away from you, gasping for a breath.

"What the fuck, Gwil?"

Thoughts circled your head, words bouncing off the walls, your hand brushing over your bottom lip, the gloss transferring to your skin as it had done on his lips, stained and shiny, you were surprised you were still holding your wine glass. He cocked an eyebrow at you as heat rose to his cheeks, he raised his hand almost as if he was apologising but you stopped him, holding up your own hand and shaking your head.

"What was that?"

"I...I kissed you."

"No shit Sherlock! Why? How is that supposed to explain anything?"

"I'm- I..." He couldn't seem to find the right words, he hesitated reaching his hand out further before deciding against it and pushing it back through his hair. You gulped, why is it so hot when he does that? You were so glad he couldn't read your mind right now, if he had heard what you just said, you sure would wish for the floor to open up and swallow you whole.

"You think a kiss is going to solve everything? I'm not some plastic doll for you to play around with however you please."

"I..I know, I just..."

"Just what? I thought you'd tell me with words, I though-"

"Oh for fuck's sake, I like you, okay?"

His pupils were blown wide as much as yours when he half-yelled the words and this time you were sure the glass was going to slip through your fingers but it still didn't, in fact you had a right mind to just down the whole thing after what he told you. You thought he didn't like you...he liked you? If you were confused before, then you were even more now, your hand fell to your side as you stared at him, eyes like glass, you couldn't even blink. Gwil's gaze had turned to the floor, pretending to be interested in the pale white carpet, his fingers moving to the back of his neck where sweat began to form. He waited for you to speak, the seconds ticked by painfully, it felt so long before you said anything.

"You...like me?" You gulped, trying to process his revelation. He chewed on his bottom lip and tucked both hands back into his pocket, nodding as his eyes flicked over to you.

"Yeah, I do, I like you. A lot."

His voice seemed fearful, anxious but with an underlying desperation, like that of a teenager admitting a big brush, it was rather cute in your eyes; first hot now cute? How can he be both? Stop it, stop questioning everything. You cursed yourself, fingers wrapped around your glass harder you thought it might crack. Instead of replying, you drained the wine, it was the only thing you could think of doing. Gwil watched as your throat moved, as you swallowed, he shuddered and prayed he wasn't showing through his pants, now wasn't the best time, especially with how you reacted. You sighed as the last drop fell into your mouth and rushed through your veins, you finally let the glass fall from your grasp and land with a small thud on the carpet. Your fingers came together in front of you, interlacing as you twiddled your thumbs, eyelids fluttering as you collected your thoughts, one deep breath and you looked at him.

"I don't understand. You like me, but you have been acting like you hate me, why do that?"

Gwil didn't answer right away, he fidgeted, hands still in his pockets, his vision now turning to eye the golden lamp on the bedside table. In this light, you could see the sparkle in his eyes, the deepest blue, like a calm ocean, like a pair of warm sapphires, you found yourself not looking away. 

"I didn't mean to be that way, I was just afraid." He said, still not looking at you.

"Why afraid?"

"Of rejection. Of you already being taken. I didn't want to admit anything if I had no chance with you." He confessed, raising one hand out of his pocket to massage his neck, your eyes locked to his fingers, wondering what they'd feel like around your ne- Cut it out! You banished your dirty thought and continued the talk.

"The worst I could say is no, and I'd mean it without any offense. And I'm not taken, I think you'd know if I was."

"That's the thing, I thought you were!"

"How did you come to that conclusion?" You peered at him. He sighed and scratched his beard, stubble littering his cheeks and chin, and right then, another X-rated thought entered your brain, You wonder what that would feel like between your legs...will it tickle? Itch? Arouse you? You think you wanted to know.

"Because you and Ben, and I...didn't want to get in the way"

You and Ben? You gave him a perplexed look as you tried to work out what your friend had got to do with any of this. Ben was really a great guy, you enjoyed his company, years of friendship had blossomed between him and you, and you loved being able to see him when he wasn't busy with his star-studded career, but there wasn't anything there to insinuate something more was happening between you two. 

Then it hit you.

"You thought that Ben...and me...that we...? Oh god no we're just friends!"

You bit back a giggle. Ben was easy on the eyes, anyone could see that, even Joe said it, multiple times, many conversation he'd told you, "That fucker's stupidly gorgeous isn't he?" but he was not your type. He was more like a brother to you than anything else. Sure there was the occasional kiss on the cheek, hugs a little longer than usual, his arm around your waist or ruffling your hair when you told a stupid joke, but friends did that, they could do that without having feelings for each other. Gwil almost lost his balance after what you said, Just friends...Just friends...

"Are you sure? I mean he's the pretty boy."

"Okay he's pretty but he is like family to me, I wouldn't hit that even if I was piss drunk." 

Your mouth curled at the corners, as did his and both of you shared  a small laugh. Your eyes fell upon the empty wine glass on the floor, teeth tugging at your lower lip; you could see Gwil's body shift a little closer, one foot in front of the other, until he was standing before you, chests almost touching. His fingers stroked your jaw, moving underneath your chin to bring your gaze up to his face. He looked...intense but still had a softness behind his eyes, something sweet and hesitant but at the same time, you could feel he wanted to continue the kiss he gave only minutes ago.

"So...no Ben?"

You rested your hand on his wrist, giving him a smile as your eyes went from his to his lips, mouth watering at the memory of them on yours.

"No Ben."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

"Gwil..."

His name was like chocolate on your tongue, as his tongue worked over and against your slick folds. One hand in his hair and the other curled behind your head, back arching with every hum he made against you, his mouth was insane, you hadn't felt such pleasure in god knows how long; he really knew what he was doing.  And he seemed to enjoy it as much as you did, smiling as he pressed kisses to your swollen clit, groaning with each flick and lick, with each tug you made on his hair, and that mixed with the feeling of his stubble rubbing your inner thighs and right above your mound as he angled his lips in the most delightful of ways. 

You were getting closer, you could almost taste it, feel it....but he stopped and raised his face from between your legs, his arms still wrapped around your flushed thighs. His mouth was wet, his hair in disarray and his eyes dilated; he looked fucking hot, but right now, you wanted to scream at him for stopping it right when you were about to finish. He could see you were almost angry at how suddenly he pulled away from your heat, he stroked the curve of your left breast as he began to lay down next to you, his free hand resting over his mouth.

"Come sit here."

It took you a few seconds to realise what he meant, your breath got caught in your throat, slowly blinking at him in surprise.

"Are you...are you sure?"

"Yes, you're so beautiful, I'd love nothing more than for you to ride my tongue."

You certainly did not expect something so foul to come out of his mouth but fuck you loved it. A smile grew on your face as you sat up, as he brought his hands to your hips just as you were about to face the headboard, he pushed you in the other direction a tad.

"Sit the other way, baby."

Your cheeks became hot and you were almost embarrassed at how flustered a simple petname made you. You gasped as you got into position, his nose right there against you and in your line of eyesight was his sweaty body, his happy trail disappearing into his jeans, and through those, a bulge was unmistakable.

You'd made him hard and you hadn't done anything but kiss him, you giggled at the reality of it, the embarrassment fading into smugness. Gwil moved his hands over your thighs, giving one of them a slap and you yelped in shock.

"What are you laughing about, huh?"

You bit your lip as you answered.

"You're hard."

"O'course I fucking am. Eating you out did that to me, hell you make me hard just by looking at me." He murmured on you, and before you could say anything, his tongue was back on you, licking back and forth, covering the length of your heat, he didn't leave one spot untouched by his tongue. Moans flew out of your mouth, sweat beading on your skin as he switched between his lips and his tongue, going so far as to telling you to bounce, and doing that was one hell of an experience. You leaned forward and raised your hips so you could move more, his tongue stuck out flat so you could feel it inside you, warming you up, stretching you out, he really cared about making you feel good and giving you the best feeling before you reached your high.

Your hands latched onto the belt around his jeans, curled over his body, grinding over his mouth, his facial hair once again giving you that cherry on top, his growls of hunger and delight pushing you over the edge. One palm slapped your ass cheeks, his name flowing from your lips again.

"Cum for me, cum on my face, sweet girl."

And you did just that, body shaking as you rode out your orgasm on his face, his lips never detaching from your clit, intending to make you have the most explosive high, and it sure felt like that. Your toes and fingers were on fire, your heart shot through the roof and you had trouble catching your breath as he lapped you up, "Mm you taste so good", another slap to your ass, chuckling against your heat, nose bumping on your clit, making you whimper a little given how sensitive you were. You slowly sat up and ran a hand through your damp hair, laughing through deep breathes.

"Fuck, you're amazing at that."

"Thought I wouldn't be?" You could feel his smirk beneath you.

"No no, just...wow."

Gwil smirked wider and gave your clit one last kiss, your eyes back on the even-harder bulge in his jeans. He'd just made you feel incredible. You wanted to do the same to him. So instead of moving from your position, you simply leaned down over his toned chest and started unbuckling his belt.

"Oh I see someone's hungry too." He laughed, hands resting on your red ass. Something came over you, the sexual side of you suddenly arose and within seconds, his belt was off and you were pulling his jeans down. He gave you some help by lifting his hips, you pushed them down to his knees and now you could see how hard he actually was, almost bursting to be released from the prison of his boxers. You didn't want to keep him waiting, you giggled and tucked your fingers into them, and pushed them down to join his jeans, more giggles spilling out when you got the first proper look at his cock.

The tip was pink, precum already forming, he was thick, very girthy, bigger than you thought but still you weren't that surprised. You slipped your fingers around him and gripped him and he hissed, his breath hot on your cunt. You smiled to yourself and pumped him a few times, relishing how warm and hard he was in your hand, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the veins, satisfied with your work, you puckered your lips and wrapped them around the head of his cock, and the noise he made was so fucking sexy, the sweetest groan and the hottest whine.

"Holy shit..."

You concentrated on where you sucked and moved your mouth, your hand tight around the base of his shaft. From previous experiences, you knew lubricant of any kind worked a treat, so you took a moment to pull your lips off and spit over the head, gently rubbing wetness all over his length; that got him considering the deep moans he was making right against your clit. Feeling his mouth so close to you while you sucked him off made you powerful, like you had him in your corner, it was your turn to give him pleasure and in his hand, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. 

When his eyes were open, they were on your cunt, fucking you with his vision, his hands moving from your ass to your hips to your upper thighs, gripping your skin as his own hips started to move with your mouth and before long, Gwil was fucking your mouth. You choked and whimpered around his cock, delicious sounds from his perspective, leaving marks on your ass from how hard he was holding you.

"Your mouth's so warm and tight fuck baby I-"

His words encouraged you to do more, fingers away from his cock and moving to his balls, you grabbed one and he let out a cry of delight, jerking his hips up faster until your eyes started to water; it burned but it was a good burn, making Gwil feel this way made you feel good, pleasing him made you feel good. As you squeezed his balls, his eyes rolled to the back of his head, neck craned all the way back over the pillow, his toes curling over the end of the bed. Your own thighs started to shake and your throat tightened around him, and he lost his hand.

"Just like that, yeah."

And with your mouth around him and your fingers gripping his balls, he finished, quicker than you thought; it wasn't even three minutes and you tasted hot thickness, his cum, him. You gagged a little as you removed your lips softly like sucking a lollipop, strings of your saliva dripping from his cock. You gasped and swallowed; you never spat out, it was a rule you gave yourself, what a waste it would be to spit, especially after sucking Gwil off, and speaking of him, his breath was heavy and fast, chest puffing in and out as he came down from his high, eyes glittering and a cheesy grin on his face.

"You're amazing at that."

All you could do was giggle and say, "I know."

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ.·:*¨༺

He was buried deep inside your walls, stretching out every inch and corner of you, the strokes of his cock were heavenly, easily hitting your g-spot over and over again. Your legs were wrapped high around his waist, ankles crossed over, nails digging into his back and dragging down his spine, one of his hands gripping the headboard and the other on your thigh, keeping you in place as he fucked you raw.

"Gwil, Gwil...please.." 

"Please what? What do you want?" He grunted between thrusts. Tears burned your lids as your hips smashed with his, lips inches away from his, his warm breath setting your face alight.

"Please...I want to cum, I want us to cum together..."

"Oh fuck.."

The way he moved got harder, faster, more aggressive to the point where your legs were turning into jelly and all you could feel was his stiff cock, you could not even get a proper sentence out anymore, if you did, it was laced with high whines. As his body meshed with your own, your eyes glanced at his arm, where his hand held onto the headboard with so much force you wondered why it hadn't broken. You felt yourself melt into the bed at the sight of his bicep, skin wrapped thin around the muscles, a sheen of sweat coating over his arm, more sweat on his forehead and at the back of his neck, face dipping close to your jaw, the air humid between the two of you.

"I'm gonna cum, shit- but I'm not wear-"

"I'm..on the p-p-pill, cum in me, Gwil." You gripped at him, pulling his chest closer, clenching your cunt around him, desperate for him to finish. The "fucking hell" told you he was only seconds away and sure enough, you felt it, you felt his orgasm, how his cock pulsated inside you, even better inside you than in your mouth and you followed barely a minute after when he was still riding out his high, your back off the bed and your legs trembling around him, harsh scratches left deep in his back because of you. 

Gwil collapsed on top of you, your fingers finding their way into his sweaty hair, as he slowly pulled out of you, the remnants of what you'd just did together dripping down your thigh, something he found extremely attractive. He attached his lips to yours in a passionate sweet kiss, as if you two hadn't just fucked each other's brains out, smiling as he broke the kiss and pressed another to your nose.

"Didn't think this would happen coming here tonight." He guffawed, rolling off you to get comfortable beside you. Like second nature, you curled up into him, your arm draped over his chest and his over your shoulders, sheets askew down to his waist as well as yours; to the both of you, cuddling after sex was as special as the act of sex itself.

"Neither did I...but I like that it happened." You smiled up at him. His fingers stroked your hair, his lips against the top of your head.

"Yeah? Me too."

You and Gwil stayed there, having cuddle time and striking up a conversation about what this meant for your relationship; you liked him and he liked you but for right now, it was agreed upon that the sex was great and that's what it would be, unless deeper feelings crept in. Time was lost, you felt safe with him, his hand in your hair as you traced patterns on his skin, but as much as you loved having this, you knew you couldn't stay here all night.

"We should get back. Everyone will be wondering where we are." You sat up and gathered the sheets up to your chest, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. Gwil joined you and rubbed the back of his neck.

"You're right about that, let's go, love." He said, and just as he was about to get out of the bed, there was a knock at the door followed by a very familiar American accent.

"I don't know what's happening in there but if you two are done defiling MY guest bedroom, you'd better come out and watch Ben do Jell-O shots off me." 

You burst out laughing and your head fell into Gwil's neck at Joe's statement, he chuckled along with you and sighed deeply, eyebrows raised; he didn't want to leave this room either, not with having you in the bed, gloriously naked and beautiful. But still, the two of you had to rejoin the party. He kissed your temple and rubbed your shoulder as giggles slipped through your lips, he couldn't help but smile even wider at the sound of your laughter.

"Well well we can't miss that, can we?"

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