#the worst thing I have probably ever made ever

[skeltnwrites]

A Family Affair ✶ part one!

In a fit of jealousy over Nancy’s perfect new boyfriend, Steve falsely claims to be dating someone too. Robin recruits you to help Steve out, despite the fact that you’re practically strangers. | MASTERLIST

⤷ Fucking Brad ›› Hawkins Elementary puts on Peter Pan, Steve has FOMO, and you have all sorts of crazy plans 8k

Fucking Brad. Brad, with his slim waist and his broad shoulders and his chiseled jaw. Brad, who doesn’t slouch and can grow a full beard and always smells nice. Brad, who is the better version of Steve in every way. He’s the Ken of Barbies. He’s what every man wishes he looked like at thirty-two. He’s like Steve, if Steve had Botox injections and a gym membership. 

And God he has stupidly good hair. All layered and cropped like it’s trimmed every other week. But effortless in the way it sits perfectly on either side of his face. He probably hasn’t had a bad hair day in his life. And even worse, Steve’s yet to find a single gray hair on the man’s entire head.

It’s too good to be true, obviously. You can’t be that attractive and a good person. Steve doesn’t make the rules. 

But Nancy seems happy. And as a good ex-husband and father of her children, Steve’s trying to be happy for her and her new boyfriend. There’s just this sharp little shard of his heart that never quite slots back into its old place. And every time he thinks he’s patched it up, Brad comes along and knocks it loose again. 

The divorce took a heavy toll on Steve. He’ll admit that now, almost a year down the line. He lost weight, then gained twice as much back. He pushed Robin so far away that they didn’t speak for two months. It really changed him. It made him question things he used to be so sure of. 

Nancy was never cruel, not even on their worst nights. But the arguing became constant. Steve slept in the kids’ rooms more than his own. He became obsessed with finding solutions that Nancy didn’t care to try.

She was never cruel, but she did break his heart for a second time. So maybe that’s part of the reason he tells her a little white lie. 

It happened last week. Steve had been out of town for the weekend and subsequently didn’t have the kids for a whole week straight since Nancy couldn’t swap days with him. And this is the longest he’s not seen them in… probably ever, so he’s extra excited to pick them up. He even offers to drive to Nancy’s house on the other side of town rather than meet her somewhere halfway. But guess who pulls into the driveway at the same exact time as him? Brad. 

And Caroline, bless her sweet little second-grade heart, beams across the yard, right past Steve’s car up to Brad’s. Steve remembers watching in a daze, the scene unfolding in slow motion. His heart wrings itself in his chest just thinking about it. Caroline, his firstborn, his baby girl, his own flesh and blood, betrayed him, for fucking Brad. 

It’s not fair. Nancy breaking his heart is one thing, but his daughter? At this rate, he’s not sure he’ll live long enough to walk her down the aisle. And like hell he’ll let Brad be the one to do it. 

Steve steps onto the driveway and quickly receives the same armfuls of enthusiasm Caroline treated Brad with. He kneels to hug her back properly, both arms around her waist as he sprinkles kisses along the side of her head. 

“You’re back!” Steve feels the shape of a big smile through his shirt. 

“I missed you,” he says, pulling back to see her lovely face, “so, so much.” 

Caroline is proof that Steve’s done something right in his life. He finds more and more evidence every day. It’s in her kindness to strangers and her bottomless well of curiosity and her sunbeam of a smile that weirdly looks like a smaller version of his own. He used to hate the way his teeth looked in his mouth but now he wonders why.

He’s received comments about their alikeness since the day she was born. She obtained his hooded eyes, his square jaw, and his strong nose. She has lighter eyes, like Nancy’s, and lighter hair, like Steve’s when he was her age. But still, Caroline’s his carbon copy, his mini-me. 

“Missed you too, like, more than the whole universe.” 

“Woah! More than the whole universe? That’s a lot of missing to do.” His fingers crawl across her chest until she arches away in a fit of giggles. “Is your poor little heart okay?” 

Brad waves incessantly from the top of the driveway until Steve glances up. He’s not an asshole, he waves back, but he can’t help his smile curdling into something sour. 

Caroline, of his two children, is by far the least likely to lie to him. She burst into tears the last time Steve caught her red-handed and over something so insignificant he couldn’t even tell you what it was. But her words feels hollow when the memory of her picking Brad over him still stings fresh. Logically, Steve knows it wasn’t a malicious decision. Caroline’s a daddy’s girl to her core. But just knowing doesn’t make the hurt ache any less. 

Steve pulls Caroline up as he stands. “Where’s your brother?” 

“Mom said he can’t play outside ‘cause he got in trouble at school.” 

“What happened?” 

“He threw rocks at someone.” 

Steve presses his lips together with a hum. “Not good.” 

Caroline beats him to the front door, swinging it hard enough to shake the house. “Dad’s here!” she announces. 

Steve’s still in this weird limbo about entering the house without Nancy’s permission. To his knowledge, she’s never cared when one of the kids has invited him in, but it feels sort of wrong because he hasn’t lived there in quite some time. 

It’s a quaint little home at the top of a hill, purchased in their early twenties when Nancy was pregnant with Caroline. So many years of his life, etched into floorboards and door frames and garden stones that he rarely ever sees anymore. 

In the foyer, a riot of blonde fur slams hard into Steve’s knees. He’s expecting it, delighted more than anything to greet his honorary third child, Daisy. Eighty pounds, a golden retriever with more energy than Steve knew a dog could have. She was a Christmas gift from Steve to the family, a surprise Nancy has slowly grown to love over the years. Still, she would’ve been happy to let Steve take her, Daisy’s always been more his than hers, but signing the lease on a place that doesn’t allow pets complicates things. 

Steve’s crouched on the floor, receiving a face full of wet kisses when someone smaller barrels into his side. 

“Daddy!” 

Steve’s hand catches the carpet before he falls, his free arm slinging around his youngest, Andrew. “Hi, buddy.” He pulls him in for a forehead kiss but pushes him back for a better look at his face.

He’s got big brown eyes, round like Nancy’s, and feathered with a long set of lashes. He’s a fair mix of their genes, Nancy’s button nose and pointed ears but Steve’s thick hair and plush lips. He’s like Daisy, with endless reserves of energy and no off switch, but he’s half the dog’s size, tiny, even for six. 

“Hi.” 

“Hi. How was school?” 

“Good,” Andy smiles, words whistling in the gap his front teeth left behind. “I got something from the treasure box and I had music specials today.”

Steve gives his shoulder a loving squeeze. “That’s fun. I heard you got in trouble though, hmm?”

“Barely. It wasn’t really bad. I had a timeout but mom says I still can’t play.”

“Oh, okay. I’ll talk to Mom.” 

“Talk to mom about what?” Nancy frowns from the doorway, crossing her arms over her chest. 

One thing from their marriage that Steve doesn’t miss is Nancy materializing out of thin air. She’s quiet and quick on her feet, always appearing at the most incriminating moments. He can think of a dozen times he’d gotten in trouble for letting the kids do something she already forbade. 

Steve shifts his focus to her begrudgingly. He presses his lips into a cordial, tight-lipped smile. “Why can’t he play? He said he had a time-out already.” 

“Because he didn’t do what I asked, Steve. I know you like to let the kids get away with everything, but in my house there are consequences.” 

“Okay,” he raises his eyebrows and his smile slips away, “unnecessary.” 

She breathes a quiet sigh, hooking her fingernail under the fresh tear in her tights. “It’s been a long week.” 

“Sorry.” Steve means it because he’s been there, but he doesn’t waste much sympathy on Nancy these days.

Brad fills the leftover silence as he zips down the stairs, his fingers drumming along the handrail in time with his hums. “Steve!” he grins. “How was Florida? Catch some sun?” He cruises over to Nancy with a much gentler excitement, pecking her head with a soft, “Hi, honey.” 

Steve wants to gag. No, he wants to projectile vomit all over their nice floors. He stands and chooses to look at Nancy as he replies the simplest, “Yeah.” 

Nancy stares blankly back at him. He used to have some kind of superpower when they were in love. Could read her mind by looking at her eyes alone. But these days he can’t tell her frown from her smile, let alone her thoughts.

“Is your dad doing better?” she says. 

“Yeah, he’s– yeah, fine. He’s home now.” 

“Good.” 

Andy pulls Brad down to his knees, eager to funnel a “very important” secret into his ear. Steve tries, but he can’t decipher any words over Nancy’s voice. 

“So, can you take him?” she asks.

“Where?” 

“The dentist. Are you listening to me? I said his appointment is after school.” 

A vein pulses on Nancy’s forehead, though Steve isn’t privy. His attention swings across the living room behind her like a compass needle, always pointing to Andy and Brad. They’re both giggling, falling onto the couch like ragdolls. Steve’s never had worse FOMO in his life. 

“Yeah, sorry, yeah. I’ll take him,” he answers finally. 

“He’s been complaining about his mouth since last Tuesday. Think he has a cavity.” 

Steve nods. Nancy nods. The silence is awful. 

She turns her nose to the stairs and he knows she can’t bear the awkwardness either. “Andrew go get your stuff. Caroline!” 

“What!” 

“Come on! Dad’s waiting!” 

Andy shrieks and Steve turns instinctually. It’s a happy shriek, he finds, paired with pleads of, “Again! Again!”

Brad nods knowingly, slotting his hands under the boy's armpits and swinging him up and up and up until he launches him right back into the couch. 

Andy’s thrilled, of course. But Steve doesn't know how to feel. There isn’t a sound he loves more in the world than his kids laughs’, but his body tells him what is happening right now is all sorts of wrong. 

“Oh and don’t forget about the play on Friday,” Nancy adds. 

Steve can’t answer. He can’t fucking think over the sound of his molars grinding against each other. A switch flips in his brain. 

“It’s at six I’m pretty sure. Care’s pretty nervous so just, I dunno, don’t bring it up maybe.” 

“I’m bringing someone,” he blurts. 

Nancy shifts her weight from foot to foot, her stare sharp as a thumbtack, pinning him right to the floor. Why the fuck did he just say that? 

“Who?” she asks strangely. Her mouth is smaller like she’s mad. But her eyes are curious, a sudden softness to them. 

Steve clears his dry throat but finds no relief. He hasn’t fucking thought this through. He shrugs, his chin tipping toward the floor. “Just this girl I’ve been talking to. She’s…” He chances a glimpse up but steers his eyes away from Nancy’s the second they land. “It’s kinda gettin’ serious, so, you know.” 

“Really?” 

He squirms at the way she says it. He feels like he’s in trouble and about to get an earful. “Yeah,” he swallows, “Yeah. She’s great. You’ll like her.” 

“How long?” 

“Hmm?” 

“How long have you been seeing her?” 

His eyes rove across the ceiling as he pretends to count the imaginary days he’s spent with his imaginary girlfriend. “Ya know, a few months.” He frowns for show, “Give or take.” 

Nancy chuckles wryly. She very clearly doesn’t buy it. And of course, she doesn’t buy it, they were married for a third of his life, she knows Steve inside and out. Steve is officially, utterly, and irreversibly doomed. 

“Time flies when you’re having fun,” he slips in nervously. 

“Right.”

“Yeah, so…” 

“Okay, well, I look forward to meeting her.” 

“Okay. Me too. Well– to you meeting her. I’ve met her, obviously.” 

Her mouth twists in a struggle to hide her amusement. “Okay, Steve.” 

This is pathetic. Steve’s never been more embarrassed in his life. Ten-plus years he’s had to make a fool of himself in front of Nancy and nothing will ever top this. 

Tiny arms curl around his legs and he knows they’re Carolines before he’s seen them. She’s a foot taller than Andy and ten times as gentle. Her ear presses into Steve’s side, her hair newly pinned with a set of plastic butterflies. Steve’s positive she gets prettier by the day and he’s just grateful to have anyone besides Nancy to look at. 

Andy hustles down the stairs not long later, sneakers swinging from his wrist by the laces, wearing a backpack twice the size of his chest. And with both kids in sight, Steve cuts straight for the front door, encouraging a round of goodbye hugs and kisses for Mom from the safety of the porch. 

On the ride home, Caroline has a deck of questions about his trip. If Grandma and Grandpa still live in that big house on the water. If the airplane ride was bumpy or not. His favorite– if he ordered the fish tails (popcorn shrimp) from that restaurant they all went to last time. 

Eight years he’s been a dad and to this day the infinite questions never fail to fascinate him. And even more remarkable, how Caroline remembers things from years ago like they happened this morning.

He hadn’t told her why he went to Florida or the real reason she couldn’t come. Steve’s dad had a minor health scare, and if it weren’t for his mom calling in hysterics, he probably would have saved the PTO. He spent most of the trip in the hospital, listening to his dad fuss about every possible thing he could find to complain about. 

Nancy preached honesty when it came to explaining things like this to the kids. But Caroline’s a worrywart. Steve couldn’t let her spiral, certainly not over his dad of all people. 

He’s very happy to be back home. And even happier to be distracted from his poor decision-making by the bottomless pit that is his daughter's brain. But time flies when you’re having fun as Steve apparently says now. Dinner goes fast, and bedtime even faster. 

The kids are asleep and he’s left to simmer alone in his stupidity. He replays the conversation with Nancy on a loop, each turn twisting the words until he can’t tell what’s real apart from what he wishes to have said. He fucked up, that much is clear. And for what? A fleeting satisfaction if Nancy had believed him? He truly can’t think of a time in the last ten years he’s said something so dumb. 

Steve dials Robin’s number and slips the phone against his ear as he opens the fridge. He stares at his groceries, or lack thereof, and listens to the phone ring and ring and ring until he’s turned over to Robin’s answering machine. 

“Hi, you’ve reached Robin! Or, well, it's not, obviously, because you're talking to a machine. Anyway, I’m probably busy doing something incredibly important, so, leave a message, and I’ll call back– unless I forget— which, statistically speaking, is very probable. Sorry.” –Beep! 

“Hi, um, this is Steve.” He shuts the fridge door and swipes the takeout menu from the magnets on the side. “I’m having an… emergency type of situation and if you really, truly love me you’ll call me back, like, as soon as you get this. Yeah, okay, bye.” 

Robin’s at work he’s pretty sure. That or sucking face with her new girlfriend, Lin. She’s busy a lot nowadays, Steve just as much. It’s put a weight on their friendship but Steve can’t imagine his life without her. She’ll surely call him a dumbass or an idiot or the classic dingus for what he’s done. But being snarky with each other is their love language; he looks forward to it. 

Steve’s three or four Cheers’ reruns deep when the phone rings. He rocks himself out of his recliner and takes the half-empty pizza box in his lap back to the kitchen. He’ll be the first to admit, his evenings aren’t all that glamorous. But things could be worse and he’s happy with the majority of his life’s choices– minus the most recent one, obviously. 

The phone slides against the pizza grease on his fingers. He pins it between his ear and shoulder to swipe his hands down the front of his shirt as he speaks, “You know, you’re lucky this isn’t a life-or-death emergency. I’d have been dead hours ago.” 

“Uh-huh. Tragic,” Robin rasps. “I’ll write your eulogy for you. ‘Steve Harrington: untimely death by dumbassery.’” 

“That’s not a real word, genius.” 

“It is now. I’ve made it one.”

“You can’t just make it a word. That’s not how it works.” 

“No, it is. Check your dictionary.” He hears the clinking of pans, water running in a sink. “But wait, what did you do? Lock your keys in your car again?”

“Ha, no. I wish.” 

“Forget to pick up the hellspawns?” 

“No, Rob.” 

“What? It’s happened before,” she laughs in that scratchy way she does. He can picture her whole face like she’s stood there beside him. “I dunno, I’m tired. I give up. What’s the crisis?” 

“Um, so, I told Nance that I’ve been seeing someone and that it’s serious and I’m bringing her to the kid’s thing on Friday.” 

Robin’s silent long enough for Steve to pull the phone back and check if the call’s still connected. But her laughter builds slowly, rattling through the speaker in beats. “Oh no, Steven.” 

“Yeah, so…” He shears the last bite off of the pizza he was working on before and tosses the crust back into the box.  “I’m fucked.” 

“You could say that.” 

“Thanks for the encouragement.” 

“Sorry, sorry. I mean, fuck dude. Why’d you say that?”

“I don’t know, okay? It was stupid. I fucked up.”

“Big time.”

“I have to figure something out.” 

“Can’t you just say it fizzled out? You had a good run, but you weren’t right for each other, cue dramatic sigh, problem solved.”

“No! She knows, Robin. She fucking knows I was lying. She was giving me that look she gives Andy when he’s done something he’s not supposed to.”

“Heh, I know the one. God, that’s hilarious. I love her mad face. Was she doing that weird lip thing, like she’s trying to suck them back into her skull?” 

Steve cuts off his own laughter, “Probably– I don’t know! I was panicking, bad, you should’ve seen me.” 

“Oh, I would pay so much money to see a video of this. Were there cameras? Where was this at?” 

“No, no, I have to do something. I need to bring someone to the show.” 

A beat. Two. “What? You want me to revive straight Robin? I can’t walk in heels to save my life, you know that.” 

“Jesus, no. She knows you're gay, dude.” 

“Then who?”

“I dunno.” Steve throws his hand in the air. “You know people.”

“I know people?”

“Yes?”

“You’re right, hold on, let me get out my address book and just call every single woman I know. ‘Hey, how do you feel about pretending to be my friend’s boyfriend so his ex-wife doesn’t make fun of him?’ Sound good?” 

“Yes! Exactly!” 

“Maybe while we’re at it we just start calling random women in the phone book. I saw a billboard with this sexy lawyer lady today.” 

“Robin.” 

“Steve,” she chuckles. “Come on. This is crazy. You have to see that.” 

“I don’t care, Rob. You don’t get it. Nancy is dating America’s next top model and I’m,” his words feel sticky as bubblegum, “I’m watching shitty TV and eating shittier pizza by myself.”  

Robin sighs. “Don’t act like I haven’t been a good wing-woman. I’ve tried to set you up with people.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I’m not ready to date anyone for real, I just– I just want to pretend for a night, that’s all. I don’t want Nancy to think any less of me than she already does.” 

Robin sighs again, worse. He feels bad about bugging her but she’s his best friend and she bugs him to the same extent with her own relationship problems. He listened to her cry for an hour about a fight she had with Lin last week.  

“If I help you… will you promise me that you will move on and go on a real, actual date with a woman who is not Nancy Wheeler?” 

Steve’s about to say ‘I’ll do anything’, but the sentence catches in his throat. 

Robin complains about Steve’s dating life (or lack of) about once a week, if not more. It’s been a year since the divorce, yeah, but he’s short on time with two kids and a second full-time job that affords him the first. He’s not in any rush to do awkward first dates or even worse breakups again. 

But fuck, he’d rather die than face the consequences of his own actions. “Fine, yes. I’ll do it.” 

“Hallelujah.” 

“Please, just call a couple of your friends for me. One night, that’s all I’m asking.” 

“Honestly, I definitely know a couple of people who’d do it for a hundred bucks.” 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “If that’s what it costs to keep my dignity then so be it.” 

He hears Robin’s breathy smile. “You’re so dramatic. Shelly might do it for free. She doesn’t exactly look your type though.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” 

“I dunno, Steve. We both know Nancy has a better gaydar than you.” 

“I hit on one lesbian at the height of my divorce-depression. I was desperate, okay?” 

“You hit on two, actually. I do count, still. And she was like the most butch woman I've ever met. You guys basically had the same outfit on.”

“It was a good outfit!” 

Her laughter is loud through the speaker. And before he realizes it, he's laughing too. In retrospect, that woman very obviously was a lesbian and not at all his type. 

“Wait,” Robin gasps, “what about Y/N!” 

“Who?” 

She repeats your name with even more emphasis. “She was at my birthday thing. You definitely met her.” 

Steve describes a vague version of the person he thinks is you. His memory is hazy. 

“Yes! Yes! You wouldn’t stop showing her fucking pictures of the kids.” 

“Excuse me, she wanted to see them.”

“No, I think you need to ask her that again, pal.” 

Steve reconsiders that moment he met you. He recalls a polite smile and how you had several nice things to say about his kids. He remembers you being pretty but it was too soon post-divorce for him to process that information then. 

“Oh my God,” Robin roars, “How did I not think of this sooner? You guys are perfect for each other, I’m telling you!” 

“Wait, wait, Robin. This is just pretend. I’m not actually dating her.” 

She scoffs. “Will you give her a chance? Please? This can count as your real date.”

“No, absolutely not. No. I can’t– I already know her. That’s weird.” 

“Oh my God. You’re making dumb fucking excuses already. You better hold up your end of the deal, Harrington.” 

“I will, I will. Just not her. We’ll figure it out after, okay?” 

The line is silent but he can almost hear the gears in Robin’s head cranking out a new negotiation.  

“I’m serious. Don’t tell her it’s a date.” 

“Ugh. Have you no faith in me anymore?” 

“Will you ask her? Seriously, Robin, please?” 

“Yes, whatever, I’ll ask her. But don’t come crying to me when this blows up in your face.” 

“Don’t tell her it’s a date, Rob. I mean it.” 

“I knowww.” 

“Thank you,” he sighs. He feels like a load of bricks just dropped from his back straight to his stomach. 

“But I really think you and Y/N should come to that romance retreat with me and Lin. She knows the owner so I’m sure she could snag us another couple of tickets.” 

“Mmm. Sorry, no. I’m actually busy that weekend, ‘member?” 

“Oh, I know you did not just lie to me right now. What is this, a compulsion?” 

“Oh my God. I was kidding,” he laughs. “But also hard no. I’m hanging up.” 

“You can’t avoid all your problems forever.” 

“Whatever. Goodnight.” 

“Goodnight. Love you, dingus.” 

“Love you.” 

Steve slots the phone back in its cradle and presses his hand into the countertop. He thinks of you again, your face, your clothes, your voice– what had you said to him? He turns you in his mind like an unravelled spool but there are way too many loose ends. 

He agrees with Robin, this is a bad idea. He can’t imagine you’ll drop everything to help a guy you met one time. And if for whatever reason you do agree? You might be really awkward or rude to the kids or a kidnapper! He really, really hopes Robin doesn't befriend kidnappers. 

She assures him you are not a kidnapper when she calls him the next night. She also tells him he’s won the lottery and somehow you’ve agreed to this ridiculous plan. You’ll pretend to be his girlfriend in front of his kids and ex-wife and her boyfriend, just to save him from some embarrassment. Steve thinks you might be crazy but Robin promises you’re a match made in heaven. 

Steve jots down your phone number and thanks Robin until she hangs up on him. But he doesn’t call you yet. He chews on the plan all week and decides it still tastes bad. Very, very bad. But what choice does he have now? He’s groveled with Robin until she gave in and asked you and you’ve actually agreed. He’s in too deep now. 

It takes him three tries to dial your number all the way through. He only works himself up to the final digit with the mental image of Brad and his stupid, sparkly teeth. Steve's stomach starts cartwheeling as the line trills. 

“Hello?” 

He freezes. He doesn’t know what he expected you to sound like but your voice throws him for a loop. Every sentence from his practiced speech erases itself from his memory. 

“Helloooo?” 

Steve forces all the air from his lungs until he makes a strangled sort of noise. “Hey– sorry, um– hi, it’s Steve. Uhh, Robin’s friend.”

“Oh! She said you’d call.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “Here I am.” 

You chuckle back but are otherwise quiet, waiting for him.

“So like–”

“How did–”

“Sorry,” you say overtop each other. 

“You go,” he begs. 

“Well, I mean– so Robin gave me the run down already, but like, how exactly do you want this to go?” 

“So,” Steve takes a deep breath, “my kids are both in the school play over at Hawkins Elementary. It’s this Friday from six to seven-ish. All I need you to do is just show up and pretend that you’re my girlfriend.” He cringes through the last part. The more times he explains this plan, the more outrageous it sounds. This might as well be a form of torture. 

“Just show up and watch the play and agree that we’re a couple if somebody asks? That type of thing?” 

“Yes, exactly. Yes. My ex-wife and her boyfriend will be there, so probably just them and the kids.” 

“Right, Robin said. But how much should I– how do I say– should I hold your hand, I guess, kiss you, things like that?”

“No, no,” he swallows so hard you probably hear it too. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. Whatever you’re comfortable with.” 

"Would you..." you pause for a while. He fears you’re backing out. “Would you want to meet up, maybe? Like, sometime before the play?” you ask. “We could talk more about boundaries and, I dunno, how we met, our first date, all of that junk. In case it comes up.” 

Steve doesn’t think that’s really necessary. He only needs you for one hour, the majority of which you won’t be talking. You’re really just there to sit beside him and smile. But you are doing him a massive favor, if it makes you feel better, it wouldn’t hurt to discuss it in person.

He lets you pick the time and place and thanks you endlessly before he hangs up, very much ready to crawl into bed and never come back out. 

His second impression of you doesn’t stray far from the first. You’re sweet, maybe a little too sweet for someone who barely knows him. And you must be smart. You have enough wits about you to question him and this plan. Maybe, with you there, it won’t completely fall apart.

But as luck would have it, Steve is forced to cancel on you last minute– thanks to Brad, of course. Well, it’s not really his fault his sister goes into labor but Steve likes to pretend it is when Nancy asks if he can take the kids that night. He reschedules with you once, then again when you can’t make it. But shit happens and things don’t work out how he hoped. Neither of you can make it work before the play. 

So Steve pulls up to Hawkins Elementary with his heart lodged in his throat like a stone. He’s about to make the biggest fucking fool of himself if you don’t show and he’s only about forty-five percent sure that you will. As of yesterday, you were still game, sounded excited, even, to come. But maybe you forgot about the whole thing or maybe you’re chickening out because you never solidified where you had your first date. Steve wouldn’t blame you either way. 

Brad’s already seated in the front row of the auditorium, Nancy likely dropping the kids off at their classrooms. Steve slinks around the back to a denser part of the audience hoping not to be seen. But it’s Brad. He’s got twenty-twenty vision, no doubt. He flags Steve down as soon as he turns around, standing and waving emphatically, leaving Steve no other choice but to sit with them. 

Brad talks his ear off, to no one's surprise, but Steve’s mind is stuck somewhere else. His eyes skip between the lavish rose bouquets in Brad’s lap to the measly assortment of pink and blue daisies in his own. It’s silly to worry the kids would love him less over something like flowers, but he can’t help himself. 

Nancy joins with a knowing smirk and immediately asks about Steve’s plus one. He feeds her some generic, bullshit line about you and how you’re trying so very hard to make it, and he decides Nancy must fucking hate him. She knows it was a lie. She just wants to watch him burst into flames and char into a corpse of embarrassment and regret. 

There are less than two minutes to showtime. The audience is buzzing, the auditorium doors are closing, and the bench space beside Steve remains unoccupied. He turns around for one last pathetic look behind him before his dignity is tarnished forever. 

But there you are! Stood up against the back wall, searching and searching until your eyes lock onto Steve’s and your whole face brightens like a sunrise. 

Steve waves, a little shy suddenly, but largely overwhelmed by the complete one-eighty his heart’s just spun. And it only worsens as you make your way up to the row. 

You look fucking unreal Steve realizes. You pat a pretty dress down your thighs, two big bouquets wedged in the crook of your arm, and shimmy past the family seated beside him with a dashing smile.

“Sorry I’m late,” you say to him, so genuinely apologetic Steve can’t remember the reason you’re there in the first place. You bend to wrap your arms around him, his nose tapping the sugared sweetness of your perfume. 

His brain reboots itself, a blank slate. He’s completely forgotten about Nancy and Brad until you lean across his lap to address them. 

“Nancy,” Steve coughs, “um, this is Y/N. My girlfriend.” The words trip off his tongue slow and he thinks it can’t be more obvious that he doesn’t mean them. 

But while his head is busy imploding on itself, you’re acing introductions. You’re smiling and waving, your voice stays so calm— exactly the reassurance Steve needed. He peels his eyes off your face for a glimpse at Nancy’s and nearly laughs. 

Her brows are up, obscured by her bangs, and she blinks like she’s got something caught in her mascara. Priceless. 

“Y/N, this is Nancy and her boyfriend, Brad,” Steve finishes. 

“Nice to meet you,” Brad smiles, squeezing Nancy’s knee until she does the same. 

The pretending is clumsy at first. Steve’s arm hesitates on its course behind your shoulders. And you go stiff as a board the first time his fingertips brush your bare arm. You overcompensate, laughing at something that’s not all that funny while Steve rambles on about how you met when no one even asked. But eventually, you find a balance somewhere between too much and too little.

And Steve can’t stop fucking smiling. You’re polite, funny, really pretty, you’re perfect. You’re more than what he hoped to have tonight. 

The lights dim and the curtains part, Steve’s excitement shifts toward the stage. His hand remains on your shoulder but his attention is reserved solely for his kids. You cheer for them just as loud as he does, for two children you’ve never met in your life. You remember their names and are eager for Steve to point them out when they appear. You’re a convincing girlfriend. You actually seem to care a whole lot. 

Caroline is a fabulous mermaid. She has a tail made of sequins and glitter gel down her arms. All those hours of practice were worth it, Steve nearly cries watching his little girl recite her two lines to a T. 

And Andrew plays a scruffy dog called Nana. He has no lines but he makes several appearances throughout the show, barking with flawless comedic timing for a kindergartener. Steve’s biased when he thinks his kids are the best actors here, of course, but he couldn’t be more proud. 

Touching you doesn’t become any less strange as the evening rolls on. Your thigh is smushed to his. Your back warms the inside of his elbow. He hasn’t touched anyone like this since Nancy, maybe besides Robin who doesn’t really count. And perhaps that’s pitiful, he’s not touching you all that much. But he likes it, which, is probably even more pitiful, you being his pretend girlfriend and all. 

The main cast of fifth graders bow, the crowd erupts with applause, and the lights flicker back on as the big curtains close. 

Nancy is staring at you when Steve checks her way. It’s not the first time he’s caught her tonight but he still isn���t certain that she fully believes this whole thing. At least you’re here and you seem normal and you’re a much better actor than Robin gave you credit for. That’s a mission fucking accomplished in Steve’s book. 

“They did really good, Steve,” you say in his ear. “They’re both adorable.” 

His smile is immediate. He won’t miss an opportunity to rave about his kids, not even to a stranger. “Did you see Andy’s run? He does this little skippy-thing, I dunno where he learned it.” 

“Mhmm! And Caroline, she’s only eight? She seems so much older the way she talked.”

“I know! She was so worried before, I can’t believe how good she did.” 

Nancy is one of the first parents to her feet. Brad collects her purse and the flowers as she scans each exit for the quickest route. Her face is rigid as she explains, “I’m going to get Caroline if you’ll…”

“Yeah,” Steve nods when she looks. 

Nancy’s eyes veer from his to yours for the briefest second before she turns around. Her chin juts up to Brad. “Ready?” 

He works a hand across the cardigan on her back and starts for the end of the row where parents squeeze and squish by each other toward the hall doors. 

Steve waits until their bodies bleed into the rest of the crowd before he faces you again. His lips tilt into a funny line, his eyes alive under the auditorium lights. “I kinda think that worked?” 

“Are you kidding?” you laugh and knock your shoulder into his. “She kept staring at me! She totally bought it.” 

Steve’s smile pinches up into his cheeks. He thinks you're really quite beautiful. It’s not new information to him, he noticed the first time he met you, bumbling up behind Robin in her kitchen. And he remembered just last week when she brought you up out of the blue. 

But today that knowledge feels different. Today you’re all smiles and sweet touches and sneaky glances. It’s doing something scary to his heart. 

Steve stands quickly. He’s hot all over, uncomfortably aware of the sweat accumulating under his clothes. Being sardined against every other parent in the school will do that. Plus, there’s you and your nice face. Still, somehow, he misses the heat of your thigh pressed to his. 

“She’s smart, Nancy, I mean… I dunno,” he worries. 

You stand too and your hand finds a home on the back of his arm. “No, no. It worked. Trust me.” 

“Trust you?” He can’t help but grin at your nonchalance. He wishes he could be like that, but having kids makes you worry more. 

You grin back and shrug. “Yeah, trust me.” 

Well, he can’t not trust you. Not when you’re looking at him with all the confidence in the world and squeezing his arm in gentle reassurance. 

His cheeks ache from smiling by the time you make it to the hall. He gestures one way and you follow him past doors and bulletin boards and as many children as there are adults. And finally, he turns through an open classroom door and it’s just absolute chaos. 

A ball pops against a ceiling tile, Steve’s heel slides under a stack of notebook paper, and a string of kids fly between his hip and yours, all in one blink. 

You recognize Andrew faster than Steve expects, pointing him out where he’s barking at a child sprawled on the rug. The other boy stops giggling as you approach, prompting Andrew to spin around with the crazed expression of a real puppy looking for trouble. 

His costume is even cuter up close, a painted snout and a fur-onesie with a floppy-eared hood to match. Andrew barks at Steve, crawling across the carpet on all fours until he’s panting at his father’s jeans. 

Steve squats down to his level, a gentle hand on either side of the boy's neck. “Oh, nooo. They didn’t turn you into a real dog, did they? Are we going to have to feed you from Daisy’s bowl now?” 

Andy slurps a rope of spit back in his mouth and rolls his eyes. “I’m just pretending, Dad.”

“Ohh,” Steve laughs, pressing him impossibly closer. “You did so good, bud. Proud of you.” 

“Did you see me? When I barked at the pirates?” 

“I did! I actually thought it was a real dog.” 

Andrew cackles once, throwing his head down on Steve’s shoulder. 

Steve pats his fuzzy back. “Tired?” 

He blinks up at you curiously and shakes his head. 

“Andy,” Steve cranes toward you, “this is my friend, Y/N. Can you say hi?”

He lifts his head and barks, high-pitched and snappy as a chihuahua. 

Steve tilts his ear away and pinches Andy’s side until the barking turns to giggles. “In English, please.” 

“Hi, Y/N,” Andy squeals out between the remainder of his laughter. 

“Hi, buddy.” You kneel beside Steve and fawn, “You did such a good job!”

Andy pokes his tongue through the gap in his smile. He looks you over entirely and bats his long lashes like a paper fan. 

“I got these for you,” you say, tipping the colorful blooms toward his face. “This one’s for your sister. Here.” 

He chokes the plastic-wrapped stems in his tiny fist, half his face hidden behind a rainbow of petals. 

“Here, bud,” Steve takes one of his bouquets from the floor and tucks it in with yours, “this one’s from me.” 

Andy can’t see much of anything with his nose pressed to a daffodil but he loves them all the same. You pick yourself off the floor, your laughter spilling like the sun. 

“Let’s go find your sister,” Steve says, a hand braced on Andy’s shoulder as he stands too. 

Andy looks between you and Steve in amazement. “She was a mermaid. Did you see?” 

“We did,” Steve answers. “She was a great mermaid, don’t you think?” 

“Yes. She was all sparkly.” Andy slips his small hand into Steve’s, then automatically offers you his other.

You find Nancy, Brad, and Caroline outside the school near the parent pickup circle. Brad’s got Caroline’s hand in his, her feet tracing the edge of the sidewalk like a balance beam. 

She jumps off the curb when she spots Steve, tripping over her toes before breaking into a sprint for his arms. 

Steve kneels right there on the asphalt. “Hi, baby,” he laughs. She sets her elbows on his shoulders as he kisses her on each cheek. “Did such a good job up there!” 

“Did you see me!” she yells. “I wasn’t even scared! I didn’t forget my words like I thought I would.” 

Steve thumbs the corner of her crinkled eye where eyeshadow glares silver under the moon. “I know! My big girl. I’m so proud. Know that?” 

She giggles, her fingers scrunching around the cellophane wrapping in his hand. “Are these for me?” 

“They are. For my best little lady.” 

She sticks her smile in the bouquet and sniffs. 

Steve is oblivious to the heart-warmed grin on your face. But you watch the scene unfold, feeling an unexpected fondness for a family that isn’t yours. You’re only a guest in their little world, an outsider looking in— but even from here, it’s undeniable. He’s a great dad.

“Hey, I have someone I want you to meet,” Steve says. 

You’re so enraptured by the moment, you completely forget that’s your cue. Steve beckons you over with features that echo Carolines, not just in emotion but in shape too. They’re cheek-to-cheek looking at you like a pair of very happy identical twins. 

“Hi, Caroline,” you wave and offer the same hand to shake.

She smiles big and wraps her smaller fingers around yours. “You came to see our show?”

“I did! You were a really amazing mermaid, you know? I especially liked the dance with the sea stars.” 

She shrinks away, suddenly sheepish as she thanks you. 

“Oh, here,” you shift the bouquet in your arms toward her, “before I forget, these are for you.”

“Another! Oh my gosh!” Her beaded hair-tie clinks as she pivots. “Mom! Look! I have three flowers now!” She takes the bouquet at the base and books it toward Nancy who’s engrossed in a conversation with Brad. “Can I keep them in my room, please? And can we get some more vases tonight? I’ll water them, I promise, Mommy.”

You have a fondness for his kids Steve doesn’t often see in the eyes of strangers. They're quite rambunctious a lot of the time and while the elderly compliment him and his genes occasionally, this is different. Affection softens every line of your expression and there’s joy stitched in each sweep of your lashes. It’s endearing as it is strange because ultimately you are still very much a stranger. 

Steve trusts Robin’s judgment more than his own sometimes. If love for his kids were a race, she’d take a very close second against him. She takes her duties as an aunt very seriously and so he’s confident you’re as great as she says. But still, he doesn’t know you personally. He can’t know your intentions for certain. And he might feel guiltier about that in the context of introducing you to his kids— if you weren’t so undeniably wonderful.

You idle beside Steve, a short distance from the rest of the crew. He places his hand on the small of your back and you exchange quiet smiles. 

It’s mostly for show. He feels the weight of Nancy’s gaze in his peripherals. But an ounce or two of Steve is motivated purely by his own self-interest.

He misses these simple acts of affection. Tracing the veins in someone else’s palm, kissing their eyelids, counting their lashes. It’s human nature, a need, he supposes. A need he’s been trying to convince himself is much more of a want. 

And you’re so very gentle with him. It’s really driving him mad. 

Nancy must tell the kids it’s time to go because they’re scrambling over in a cacophony of goodbyes. Steve gives them each a big squeeze and a little shake for the road. Caroline hugs you like you’re no different than the rest of them, while Andy, ever the little charmer, asks your name for the third time. They disappear behind the first row of cars, their voices carry far but fade into all the rest. 

When Steve turns, he finds you already looking at him. 

“They’re really great,” your smile worsens and Steve’s stomach capsizes, “your kids. You should be proud.”

The joy is contagious, infecting Steve with the same toothy smile, spreading through every cell in his body straight down to his jumping heart. “I am,” he manages. 

“God,” you shake your head at the stars, “I can’t believe that actually worked.” 

Steve closes his eyes and exhales a rough laugh. “You’re telling me.” 

“Did I make you uncomfortable at all? I didn’t want to do too much.” 

“No,” Steve promises. “No, no, it was perfect. You did great. Thank you.”

You throw your hand up in dismissal. “Don’t. That was… weirdly fun.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you chuckle, “is that fucked up?” 

“Not any more than me asking you to do this,” he snorts. 

“How long exactly do you plan to do this for? I could probably do most evenings but mornings are trickier with work.” 

Steve blinks unceremoniously. “Oh, I– well, I was just gonna tell her it didn’t work out, actually.”

“Really?” 

He struggles to understand your squinting. He didn’t expect you to question this part. “Yeah?”

“You want it to be believable, don’t you?” 

“Well, yeah–”

“Then you have to sell it, Steve. Give it a little buildup, some emotion. It would be so obvious if you ended it now.” 

He searches your face, not sure what he’s hoping to find. But there’s at least some level of authenticity there. “You’d want to? To keep going?”

“Like I said,” you frown, “weirdly fun.” 

He hums. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Okay.”

“I say we make a few more appearances, you know, as a happy couple. Then, we stage the breakup.” 

“What, in front of her?”

“No, not necessarily. But we plant the seeds. We aren’t as affectionate, we get a little worked up over something stupid. I don’t know. Just enough to make her catch on that things aren’t all that good. That’s believable.”

Steve stares at you for a long minute before his smile turns a sinister shade. “You’re crazy, aren’t you?” 

You huff but there’s no heat behind it. You’re grinning too. “I thought you had more manners than that, Steve.” 

“Yeah, well, if it's any consolation, I also think you’re a fuckin’ genius.”

“You’ve been a nice boyfriend, so, I’ll let it slide.”  

He rolls his eyes like a kid. He likes talking to you but he isn’t sure what else to say. 

“So, see you next time then?”

“Yeah,” he nods, “yeah, I’ll call you. Thank you.” 

“‘Kay. See ya.” 

There’s a beat before you go, a split-second where Steve could hug you, kiss your cheek, touch your arm. He’s not exactly sure what the protocol is for this type of situation, though. He makes the executive decision not to subject you to any more PDA lest you get the wrong idea about him. But the way you’ve got this all planned out, he’s not so worried anymore. 

“Bye,” he waves. 

You walk the same path Nancy and his kids had, the back of your head slipping behind the bed of a truck. There’s something about you. Something fun, something that makes him feel alive again. And a fake relationship isn’t really harming anyone if you’re both enjoying yourselves. So why the hell not? 

[softtdaisy]

need your touch / Aaron Hotchner

summary. Hotch didn’t realize he developed an aversion to being touched until he became touch-starved.

words count. 2 776

what to expect. kind of grumpy x sunshine, very sad, mention of foyet and the attack, but very sad

a/n. I had this idea reading a book and I felt so sad about the man suffering from that, that of course I wanted to do with Hotch too so here it is

criminal minds masterlist | F1 masterlist | general masterlist | request

The shivers. The disgust. The sudden need to wash his skin.

Hotch didn’t realize he developed an aversion to being touched until it was too late.

It wasn't until he actually became touch-starved that he realized this. 

The first time he realized something might be wrong was after a case. One that they all thought would take days but was surprisingly done after a few hours. After they finished packing, Rossi walked behind him. “Well done,” he congratulated Hotch by patting his shoulder. 

He had a slight and unconscious movement of recoil. Something Rossi didn’t notice, already focused on someone else. But something that stayed in Hotch’s mind and didn’t leave him. 

Soon, he realized how every little moment where he was touched by somebody else made him feel sick. 

He had to fight against the need to run to the bathroom after shaking hands with anybody.

He started avoiding every form of affection from the team, not that they were numerous but still present.

And if after his divorce with Haley, Hotch stopped the whole dating process, the idea of being intimate with someone became a real anxiety issue. Hands getting lost on his body, the feeling of lips leaving wet marks on his skin… this was too much for him. So much so that he didn’t even know how to get over this now.

And with months spent staying away from any type of physical contact, he started to feel the consequences on his mental health. He was the one avoiding it, but in his mind, the idea of being repulsive started to grow.

The thing was, he knew exactly where it came from. 

It could have been “the best part” of this if he could find a way to fight against it.

But it was definitely the “worst part” of this whole mess.

Because there was nothing he could do about the memory of almost dying in the hands of George Foyet. Every physical contact was a reminder of the worst night of his life. His brain ended up associating it with the feeling of dying. Again and again.

If he had been feeling better, he probably would have found it funny that the universe decided to put you in his life at the exact moment he was starting to lose it.

Just like that, one day, when he arrived in the meeting room, you were there next to Penelope.

“Let me introduce you to the most amazing little fairy you will ever meet,” she said, her hands on your shoulder like a proud mom. Which, of course, caused some laughter from the team. Not that they doubt you could be some kind of fairy, especially if you were the one Penelope chose to work with her. 

“As you know,” she pursued, “I asked to have another pair of hands to help me, and so here is my little ray of sunshine.” 

“Ok,” you laughed, patting her hand gently. “I think we can stop with the cute nicknames; they got the idea.” 

The whole time you spent explaining what your job would be, basically supporting Penelope in her office but also going more on the field with the team to be the connection between them and her, Hotch never stopped looking at you.

Penelope was right: you were a pure ray of sunshine. You lighted up the whole room in a way he forgot was possible after years of discovering the worst cases between these walls. You kept smiling and laughing, joking with Derek at his silly remarks and blushing when you heard Emily’s compliments on your hair. You were already a part of the team in less than five minutes.

And when you walked to him to shake his hand, he realized there was something even more special about you.

For the first time in months, he was able to touch someone else without feeling any disgust. It was even pleasing.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a low voice, still in shock from the lack of reaction his body gave. He got lost in the beauty of your eyes when you looked at him. More than the color of them, which was straight from a painter’s palette for him, he found some peace in it. You didn’t know all the struggle he was going through. 

You were like an open door to something new. To feel like himself again.

Of course, it would have been too easy if he could have just started to feel at ease next to you and put his touch revulsion away in a flash. 

Hotch was still the boss, and you were working for him. If he were being as responsible as he felt he had to be, he would put a respectful distance between the two of you. He couldn’t be there, longing for your touch.

But, without meaning to, you were making things way harder for him.

You were the affectionate type. And soon the team learned that they couldn’t escape your overflowing need to have physical contact with them to show your appreciation. Even Spencer, who made it clear from the start that he wasn’t comfortable with this type of affection, ended up asking for some of yours. 

Like the high five when the team progressed in the case, the handholding—or grabbing, in your case—for the person next to you in the plane or the comforting touch when you felt like one of them needed it. A hand on the shoulder, a squeeze on the arm, your fingers patting your thighs softly when a meeting was going wrong, or even a hug when it was necessary. It was a normal habit for you, and soon it became one for the team too.

You weren’t sure Hotch was appreciating it though. He was your boss, and for obvious reasons, you tried to keep a distance so you wouldn’t get fired for sexual harassment. But if you felt like some of them barely needed your affection—yet, still appreciated it—like Emily or Derek, and some truly loved having you around, like Penelope, there was something different with Hotch.

That man was the incarnation of sadness, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

The first time you overpassed your feelings about it was during a case involving children. The meeting with the sheriff went terribly wrong, and Hotch, who always seemed so calm and composed, let his anger out when he got up. Slamming the chair against the desk and closing the door just as hard. 

You didn’t hesitate a single second before running after him. “Hotch!” you yelled, a little louder than intended since people turned around. Well, most did, except for the one concerned. You had to run after him outside to finally be able to grab his arm. “Oh god, I’m not trained for this stuff,” you said, out of breath. 

He stayed silent. Still in shock that you went after him. Still in shock that your touch didn’t make him feel sick. Once again. He even found some comfort in the way your thumb was naturally brushing his wrist; he could feel your tenderness even through the tissue of his shirt.

“Are you ok?” you asked before laughing. “I’m stupid; of course you’re not. But…can I do anything?” 

Hotch was impressive for many, many reasons. He was your boss, sure. He was older than you; it was a fact. But he was terribly and undeniably handsome. It wasn’t easy to be in front of him most of the time. But right now, alone in the street, facing his eyes that were leaving your face and his deep silence, it was even harder.

“Can I offer you a hug? Maybe?” Your voice was so low that you were convinced he didn’t hear you. Which was probably for the better. You could live with the idea of missing the opportunity because you didn’t speak loud enough. Less with the idea that he deliberately ignored you.

But soon, you watched his movement as he made a step towards you. As his arms opened up before closing against your body. As his head is buried in your neck. It took you a second to react, and you held him tight against you. Your hand went to his back to caress it slowly. 

You wondered when was the last time he experienced a comforting hug.

Hotch knew it had been roughly a year. 

The following weeks, you noticed Hotch took some distance with you. You’d like to say he did it again, but the truth was you don’t think he was doing it deliberately before the hug. Now he was doing everything to not be close to you.

It was late at night when your bell rang. The camera on your phone immediately gave you the image of the man standing in front of your door. A tall man with dark hair and a dark coat that you knew well since these days have been cold and it was your boss’ favorite.

You didn’t question Hotch's presence at your door until you opened it and were met by his sad figure. “This has to stay between us,” he immediately said in a hoarse voice. And before knowing what this was about, you nodded. You had the feeling you couldn’t refuse what he was asking for. 

You watched as he entered your apartment. As he took off his coat, putting it on a hanger and hanging it on the coat rack in precise movements. Like he repeated it in his head many times to make sure everything went smoothly. Or to reassure him that if he didn’t mess up here, it meant he was doing the right thing.

And you watched as he faced you, again, and went to your arms immediately. This one took you by surprise. You were used to being the one initiating the hug, not the one receiving it. Or, more exactly in this case, giving it without offering it in the first place.

Because Hotch wasn’t holding you. He was being held by you. More than that, he was holding onto you tightly, craving your touch. You could feel his fingers grabbing the thin tissue of your pajamas. Like he feared you might disappear any second. Fearing that he would lose the only person that made him feel good about himself again.

The hand you put on his back slowly moved to his neck, softly touching and caressing his skin. In any other moment, this was something that would have stressed him. Hotch always felt sensitive in this part of his body. He used to love being touched there, but after these past months, the idea of someone else's hand here was impossible to conceive. But here he was, longing for your touch. Hoping you never stopped.

And when you leaned back, he was glad that your hand didn’t leave its place. “Let’s sit so we can talk, ok?” you offered in a whisper. It seemed right to grab his hand at that moment to guide him, as if your apartment wasn’t small enough that your living room was more than apparent from the door.

You found it funny, once you both settled in your vintage sofa, how you looked like two opposites. You are in your pajamas, far from the professional outfit you wore all day. While Hotch was still in his suit, it looked like his day had just started. 

Except for the tired eyes and the exhausted expression. You knew it wasn’t even caused by work; you had a very casual office day. Maybe that was the saddest part. How life has exhausted him to a point of no return.

“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked, suddenly realizing that maybe you should give him the chance to decide instead of imposing an explanation. 

At first, Hotch didn’t reply. His eyes were still on your hand holding his, how little it looked compared to his big fingers. There was something almost fragile in his behavior, how he looked smaller, trying to disappear in your cushion. 

And so, you started to talk for him. You told him what you did when you got home, what you ate, and what you watched during dinner. Trying to keep his mind entertained. And since you had the habit of speaking with your hands, you kept playing with his fingers or hitting his thigh. 

“You’re the first person that can touch me,” he finally said after hearing one of your silly facts about burning your soup the other day. But his revelation didn’t ruin the mood. Sure, you weren’t laughing anymore, neither was he—even if he didn’t truly laugh, simply giggling. But the way you turned to him, your knee falling on his lap and your hands grabbing his in a protective way, he felt at ease. 

Hotch couldn’t look at you when he told you about Foyet, what happened that night, the stabs, and how he actually remembered everything compared to what he said to the others. But he was still looking at your hands. “After that, I realized that the idea of being touched was frightening. I just couldn’t handle it and avoided it at any cost. The feeling of someone else’s skin on mine was just…” He didn’t finish his sentence, closing his eyes at the memory of the sickness it used to give him. 

When you stopped brushing his skin with your thumb, he put his hand on top of yours. “But not you,” he continued, looking up at you. “Being touched by you is like an antidote. I can’t explain it.” 

Now that you were thinking about it, you realized that more than once you saw Hotch step back to not be touched by anyone. Something you never paid more attention to. You weren’t a profiler, not like the team. So you didn’t question his freeze when someone approached him, the tension in his jaw when he had to shake hands, or that the only person he sat next to on the plane was Spencer, the one that wouldn’t touch him without permission. 

“I don’t want to escape your touch.” He said after a long pause. You could tell from his eyes that it wasn't easy for him to say those things. “I need it.” 

This sounded like a confession. It was actually the first time that Hotch acknowledged that more than accepting your skin on his, it became a necessity. An urge to be touched by you. And feel alive. 

“What are you asking me, Aaron?” You asked. You were confused about the situation. “I’m happy to help, and I would have understood if you had asked me to stop being this affectionate with you because it makes you feel uncomfortable. But here…”

Something changed in his eyes; you could see it. And before you could understand, Hotch was up and already walking to your door. “I’m sorry. This was inappropriate.”

Running after your boss in your pajamas and slippers was not on your to-do list today. So you grabbed his wrist, but when you tried to pull him close to you, he stopped at the same moment. And so you fell against his chest. Naturally, one of his hands went on your back to secure your body. You did the same, putting a hand on his chest. 

It was hard to ignore the feeling of your bodies pressed against each other. “I want to help you,” you said in a low voice, like a secret you wanted to keep between you. “I’ll gladly do it.” 

Something softened in his body when he couldn’t find the one thing he was convinced people had for his behavior. Judgment. Hotch had been convinced that anyone was judging him. And maybe some did, for what he knew.

You didn’t. All he could see was a comprehensive look and a will to do right. 

“But I need you to guide me,” you added. Slowly, you went for his other hand, held it, and brought it to his chest. 

You stayed like that. Skin to skin, body to body. This moment lasted longer than all the physical contact Hotch had in the past months. And you could feel his fingers untighten slowly, just like most of his body. Accepting your embrace, your touch, your help. You even saw a little smile grow on his lips, very subtle but that meant so much.

Maybe Hotch died a few months ago. Maybe a little part of him had accepted it.

But now, he had the feeling that in between your hands, he could experience life again. And with your help, making it worth living.

Tag List: @kiwriteswords @monzabee (if you want to be in it, ask me and I'll be happy to add you x)

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SUMMARY ‘ sunghoon regrets cheating on you and you won’t take him back. so he only had one option left.

𓊆 成勋 𓊇 x fem!reader 㞫⠀⠀ ִ ⠀ 1,030 kidnapping manipulation cheating obsession emotional distress stalking non-con themes physical restraints isolation — 类型 yandere psychological thriller dark romance

✴︎ LIBRARY ✴︎

‧˚⠀⠀ 🤍⠀⠀ ɞ 作者注 : ik this is ass i’m sorry

You loved Sunghoon. Maybe too much.

From the moment you started dating, you gave him everything—your time, your affection, your entire world. You thought that’s what love was supposed to be. Always being there, making sure he felt loved.

But he never loved you back.

He tolerated you. Endured your presence like a weight on his shoulders. You were too much—too clingy, too emotional, too needy. He felt suffocated. But breaking up with you? That would’ve been too much of a hassle. You’d cry, you’d beg, you’d make a scene. Sunghoon didn’t want to deal with that.

So, he found another solution.

He cheated.

It started small—flirting, sneaky texts, stolen kisses when you weren’t looking. Soon, it turned into something bigger. A full-blown affair. He spent nights with her, his mystery girl, while you waited at home like a fool. And when he wasn’t with her, he was with his friends—Heeseung, Jay, and Jake—complaining about you.

You had no idea.

Not until that night.

Sunghoon was curled up with you on the couch, scrolling through his phone while you nuzzled against him. His responses were half-hearted, his arms limp around you. You ignored it, thinking he was just tired.

“I’m gonna use the bathroom,” he muttered. He left his phone on the couch. Unlocked.

It buzzed.

And buzzed.

And buzzed again.

Curiosity got the best of you. You leaned over, glancing at the screen.

🎀: miss you already, baby <3

🎀: last night was amazing… wish I was in your arms instead of her.

🎀: when are you ditching that annoying girl? she’s so clingy lmao.

Your breath hitched. Hands shaking, you grabbed his phone and unlocked it.

Hundreds of messages.

Texts with her. With his friends.

Heeseung: Bro, why are you still with her if you hate her so much?

Sunghoon: Idk, man. She’d probably cry and bitch if I dumped her.

Jay: Just keep cheating, she won’t find out lmao.

Sunghoon: She’s so fucking clingy, it’s annoying as hell. Always texting me, always touching me. Exhausting.

Jake: Then leave her, dumbass.

Sunghoon: Nah, I’ll just let her get tired of me first.

You felt sick.

Tears blurred your vision. The man you loved, the man you trusted—he never loved you. You were nothing but a burden to him.

The bathroom door creaked open. Sunghoon stepped out, rubbing his hands together.

“Hey, baby, what should we—”

He froze.

You sat stiffly on the couch, phone clutched in trembling hands. Tear-streaked cheeks. Shattered eyes.

A deep silence stretched between you.

You didn’t scream. Didn’t curse.

You just looked at him.

Looked at him like he was the worst thing that had ever happened to you.

Then, without a word, you stood. Tossed his phone onto the couch. Shoved your shoes on.

And walked out the door.

“(Y/N), wait—”

You ignored him.

You were done.

⸻

Sunghoon thought he’d feel relieved.

For weeks, he had been ranting about how much he hated you. How much he wanted you gone.

But now?

His bed was too cold. His phone was too silent. His life felt… empty.

At first, he ignored it. Hung out with his friends, flirted with girls, tried to move on. But nothing felt right. No one laughed like you. No one clung to him the way you did. No one made his chest ache in the way only you could.

It started small—checking his phone for messages that weren’t there. Staring at your old photos. Watching your last-seen status, hoping you’d text first.

Then it got worse.

Calling. Texting. Apologizing. Begging.

You ignored everything.

His friends noticed.

“Dude, you wouldn’t shut up about how much you hated her. Now you won’t stop talking about her,” Jay scoffed.

“Exactly why’d you cheat in the first place?” Heeseung asked.

Sunghoon didn’t have an answer.

All he knew was that he needed you back.

And if you wouldn’t listen willingly…

He’d make you listen.

⸻

One night, he stumbled upon a Reddit thread.

“Want your ex back? Why not just kidnap them?”

It was a joke. A dark, twisted joke.

But as he read through the comments, something in his brain clicked.

What if he did?

You were always his. Even when he didn’t realize it, you were his. If you wouldn’t come back on your own, he’d just… take you.

It was the only way.

He planned everything.

He knew you walked home alone on Fridays.

He bought the supplies—chloroform, rope, restraints. He mapped out the perfect route. Waited for the perfect moment.

And then, finally, Friday came.

You were walking home, completely unaware of the dark figure trailing behind you.

Before you could react, a cloth was pressed over your mouth and nose.

A strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you against a firm chest.

Your vision blurred. Your body grew weak.

And then—darkness.

⸻

You woke up with a pounding headache.

Blinking, you tried to move—only to realize your wrists were bound to the bedposts with silk ties. Panic shot through you as you struggled, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Then, you saw him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an eerie smile.

“Hi, baby,” Sunghoon murmured.

Your blood ran cold.

“Sunghoon…?” Your voice was hoarse, shaking. “W-Where am I?”

“My house.” He reached out, gently brushing hair from your face. “You’re finally home.”

Your heart pounded. “Home?” You yanked at your restraints. “Let me go, Sunghoon. Please—”

His expression darkened.

“I can’t do that.” He exhaled, eyes softening with twisted adoration. “You don’t understand, baby. I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have cheated. I shouldn’t have let you leave.” He cupped your cheek, sighing. “But it’s okay now. You’re mine again. And nothing will change that.”

Tears spilled down your cheeks. “This is insane,” you choked out. “You can’t just—”

“Shhh.” Sunghoon pressed a finger to your lips. “Don’t fight it. You’ll see soon enough. This is how it’s supposed to be.”

You sobbed.

Sunghoon just smiled.

Because after everything—after losing you, after breaking you, after taking you back—

You were finally his again.

Forever.

@semisasseater

taglist : @fics-lovebot

[slut4thebroken]

Headcanons for what kind of porn/erotic content Cillian's characters enjoy? I'm particularly interested in Tommy, Crane, and Neil.

(Cillian Murphy, Emmett, Jackson Rippner, Jonathan Crane, Lenny Miller, Neil Lewis, Raymond Leon, Robert Capa, Robert Fischer, Tommy Shelby)

18+ minors go away 🤺 non con/dark content

Cillian Murphy - Vanilla 😔🤚(if he even watches it at all… Like, yall can’t convince me that that man actually watches porn lol)

Emmett - (pre apocalypse) Doesn’t have a whole lot of time for masturbating nowadays but every once in a while when he’s alone he likes watching some age gap stuff, probably anal, but definitely cunnilingus. Lesbian stuff is probably his favorite— especially a young woman eating another woman’s cunt though.

Jackson Rippner - Dark dark dark dark dark. Probably a lot of misogyny, female domination/humiliation, slave/master stuff, hardcore punishments, non con, painal, etc. The worst part though is that he definitely isn’t the kind of guy who watches that purely for fantasy reasons. Like he 100% would do all of that if given the chance and probably has done some of it.

Jonathan Crane - If anyone checked this man’s search history… the cops would be called immediately. Like he probably watches dark porn on sketchy websites that make it really hard to tell if the video is just a skit or actually real (it’s probably real)… Specific categories though: fear play (obviously) and probably like medical torture shit.

Lenny Miller - Honestly?…… probably like.. law enforcement roleplay shit. Or those videos where the girl attempts to steal something and the security guy says he won’t have her arrested if she fucks him lol. But if we’re being more broad: power play stuff, lots of tit fucking, and anal. Also daddy kink.

Neil Lewis - I don’t think he really has a specific niche thing that he watches. Like as long as the girl has tits I feel like he’ll pretty much always be satisfied with it. He never really watches hard core dom/sub videos, but sometimes he’ll accidentally come across a female dominant video. That was how he learned he’s a switch lol. (Also he’ll sometimes come across a really weird fetish and get grossed out at first, but not stop watching and eventually realize he’s into it lol.)

Raymond Leon - Power imbalance, daddy kink, age gap (I’m maybe projecting lol). If he ever has time to watch porn though, I don’t think he’s really taking his time and watching a bunch of stuff. He probably finds something that makes him come pretty quickly and then just watches that a lot before finding a new one. I also doubt he’s into those like 30+ minute long videos that have an entire plot (it’s just a waste of time lol).

Robert Capa - Misogyny lol. He also seems like he likes face fucking a lot for some reason. (Idk why I’m having such a hard time with this one lol) He probably prefers “homemade” stuff rather than stuff made on an actual set. And also stealth recording for some reason. Like those videos where the guy is filming while hitting it from the back, but not using the flash so it’s not obvious whether the woman actually knows or not.

Robert Fischer - If anyone asks him… his answer is always the same: just the normal kind of porn. Which is sometimes true. But his search history is mostly findom, dominatrix, and male humiliation. Sometimes he’ll even listen to f4m erotic audios and get off with a pretty voice in his ear praising him (but also degrading and humiliating him lol) and telling him how to touch himself and when (if) he’s allowed to come.

Tommy Shelby - I don’t know I kinda feel like he rarely ever masturbates because he can literally fuck whoever he wants so he doesn’t really consume very much erotic content… Like if he just wants to get off really quick at work or something I feel like he’d lowkey just use his imagination.

[dckweed]

tiktok made me do it!gf vs tf141 boys

hey y’all :) sorry for not posting yesterday, I was running so many errands..just wanted to drop this link here, it’s a way to help me earn some extra money without having to give me any of your own (you could even sign up and earn money too) just by clicking the link :)

Your boyfriend and the rest of Task Force 141 are at the gym.

You? You’re at home, bored.

And boredom for you is a dangerous thing.

So, naturally, you decide it’s the perfect time to unleash absolute chaos with a song lyric.

What could possibly go wrong?

Captain Price – "she’s unhinged!"

You lay on your couch, feet kicked in the air behind you as you scrolled TikTok, you had somehow landed on text prank videos and you could say that you were very intrigued..and well, bored, and who better to fix that boredom than you boyfriend? It was his own fault for leaving you home alone to go workout with the boys..least you could do was tease him.

missus💍🥵: I just had sex, and it felt so good.

You giggled, waiting for his response, and true to his usual fashion it was almost immediate.

captain🥵❤️: WHAT THE FUCK?

A cackle as you type out the next lyric to the Akon song.

missus💍🥵: A woman let me put my penis inside of her!

This was probably where he would have realized you were fucking with him if he was being rational, but you know he jumped from 0 to 100 real fast.

captain🥵❤️: WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKIN’ ABOUT??

the next second, the phone is ringing, he’s FaceTimed you, and feeling nice you answer.

“Hey baby, how’s it going?” How you keep a straight face is beyond you, but you do.

“HOWS IT GOING? BABY PLEASE TELL ME YOURE FUCKIN AROUND-“

Soap is suddenly in view on the screen, looking over his shoulder at his phone: "Mate, you okay?" He whispers.

“NO, I AM NOT FUCKIN’ OKAY!“

Gaz, seeing Price's death grip on his phone: "Bro, what the fuck—"

Price, jaw clenched: "I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE."

“Well, anyways boys, I just had sex, and I'll never go back to the not-having-sex ways of the past!”

“YOU ARE SIX SECONDS FROM GETTIN’ PUT ON MY FUCKIN KNEE WOMAN-“

Gaz and Soap, now reading over his shoulder: "OH, FUCK." He must have your texts open.

Ghost, hearing the commotion: "What’s going on—" sees the text "…Oh, she’s dead."*

"She’s fuckin’ unhinged." John must be on the move because you don’t see soap when you hear his voice, but, he’s not wrong.

“John, mate, breathe." Gaz, ever the nice guy.

Price is already grabbing his keys, you can hear them jingling aggressively in his hands. "I swear to God, I’m fuckin’ going home." His voice was full of anger, and it should’ve made you nervous but it didn’t, you felt a thrill instead.

Then—

“JK babe, it’s a prank! Love youuuu!” You’re cackling, blowing him kisses.

Price stops dead in his tracks. His eye twitches. You cackle some more, kicking your feet.

“I’m gonna strangle her."

“Aye, but you love her, don’t ye?"

“That’s the worst part."

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick – "baby please!"

honey💋: I’m doin’ this tonight. You’re probably gonna start a fight. I know this can’t be right.

Gaz is mid set on the cable machine, working on some lat pull downs, when he sees it, he stops (ever the dutiful boyfriend) to see what you had said and is immediately taken aback.

babes❤️: EXCUSE ME???

Your response is almost immediate.

honey💋: I know that I can’t take no more.

His eyebrows furrow, confused, thinking he’s done something wrong he calls you, heart racing.

You ignore it, but send another text.

honey💋: I wanna see you out that door…

babes❤️: BABY, PLEASE.

“Johnny! Johnny look at this!” He practically shouts, grabbing his beefy friend and shoving his phone into his face. “Is she being serious?”

Another text comes in and Soap raises an eyebrow, using his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his face.

honey💋: Bye, bye, bye~

babes❤️: I AM LITERALLY SPRINTING TO YOUR APARTMENT, BABY PLEASE.

He takes off on foot, your apartment wasn’t that far from their gym, one of the many reasons he suggested moving into it. “I need to see her!”

Soap, breathless after running after him, ever the dutiful friend. "BRO, WAIT!"

“Gaz, it’s probably a prank—" Ghost is behind him too as he runs full stop, his friend a little less breathless than him.

“I CAN’T RISK THAT, MATE!" Hes made it to your apartment building, and thankfully you have a ground floor unit because he bursts through your apartment door, panting. "BABY, PLEASE TELL ME YOU'RE JOKING!"

You giggle, setting your glass of iced coffee down on the dining table as you leave the kitchen. "Kyle, oh my God—"

"OH, THANK FUCK."

He pulls you into his arms, holding you like he just got back from deployment. "Don’t fuckin’ do that, babe!"

Soap stumbles in behind him, wheezing. "Bro, I swear to God, you made me run mid-leg day—"

Gaz glares at you, still hugging you. "You owe me a fuckin’ back rub for this, I swear to God."

“She owes me one too, mate.” Ghost jokes, leaning against the door frame. “Can we go finish our workout now? Need a spot for the bench”

Simon "Ghost" Riley – "who is this man?!."

He’s on a cool down at the gym when you send the first text, he checks it even though he rarely answers his phone when he’s at the gym.

wifey💋❤️: Everything you own in the box to the left. In the closet, that's my stuff, if I bought it, please don't touch.

“Huh?” He has to stare at the screen for a second, wondering if he’d read it right.

hubs🥵: WHAT.

wifey💋❤️: Go ahead and get gone. Call up that chick and see if she’s home.

“The fuck?” His words came out a little louder than he meant, attracting Johnny and Kyle.. “You two make any sense a’this?”

hubs🥵: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON ABOUT?

wifey💋❤️: Oops, I bet you thought that I didn’t know. What did you think I was puttin’ you out for?

Soap and Gaz, reading over his shoulder: "Ohhhhh, fuck."

Ghost, vein throbbing in his forehead, looks at them in bewilderment, eyes wide. “I Don’t know what she’s talking about- I,.I wouldn’t have another woman!”

hubs🥵: WHAT FUCKIN’ CHICK? WHO THE FUCK IS SHE? NAME FUCKIN’ NAMES.

wifey💋❤️: You must not know ’bout me. I could have another you in a minute. Matter of fact, he’ll be here in a minute—

hubs🥵: ABSOLUTELY FUCKING NOT.

Ghost, eyes black with rage, storms out of the gym. "I’m going home."

"Wait—" Soap chases him. “Bro, no, she’s fucking around—" He’s already out the door though, throwing the door of his truck open so hard that they’re surprised he didn’t rip it off.

“Lass is in for it..” Soap sighs, looking to Gaz.

He’s scratching his head, one hand on his hip. “Did they get married and not tell us? He’s got her as wifey in his phone..”

The drive home takes five minutes with him breaking every rule of the road, he pulls into the driveway and throws it in park, jumping down and not even bothering to close the door.

Ghost kicks open your door like a fucking SWAT team.

"BABY, WHO THE FUCK IS THIS MAN? WHERE IS HE?" He’s running up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

You scream, laughing as he tackles you onto the bed, caging you in. "SIMON, IT’S A PRANK!"*

Ghost freezes. His breath hot against your throat. "…What?"

You hold up your still-streaming phone. "Say hi to the chat, babe."

He grabs your phone and ends the live with one click, but not before talking to them first."Y’all are fuckin’ done."

(Chat explodes with screaming.)

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish – "crying in the weight room."

babygirl💍: You don’t have to say what you did, I already know.

he was just finishing his first set of squats, getting ready to add more weight to the bar when he checked his phone, and then almost dropped a 50lb plate on hys foot.

babyboy🫶: WHAT DID I DO??

No. Seriously, what the fuck did he do? He literally has only been thirty minutes..did he not close the garage door? did he leave the fridge open again? step on the cat? the bugger did it to himself!

babygirl💍: You told me you loved me, why did you leave me all alone?

babyboy🫶: BABY I LITERALLY WENT TO THE GYM, WHAT THE FUCK???

“Kyle!” He felt tears welling in his eyes, his heart racing as he started to panic. He’d rather shoot him self in the foot than upset you like this, it was his worst nightmare.

babygirl💍: The bridges were burned, now it’s your turn to cry.

A sob ripped from his throat, Kyle behind him rubbing his back as he figures out what exactly is going on, saying soothing words.

babyboy🫶: I’M FUCKING CRYING RIGHT NOW.

babyboy🫶: PLEASE, BABY, I AM IN THE FUCKING WEIGHT ROOM CRYING.

Then—

Kyle sends you a photo.

Of Soap.

Sitting on the weight bench.

Head in his hands.

Shoulders shaking.

annoying ass🩷: Babes, please stop. I cannot handle seeing my brother like this.

Your heart breaks instantly.

You immediately call him. "Johnny, baby, it was a prank, I swear—"

"BABY WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??"

"I’m so sorry, baby, please, I love you—"

Kyle, in the background: "Bro, she didn’t actually break up with you—"

Soap, still sniffling: "Aye, but she fuckin’ COULD’VE.“

You spend the next hour apologizing, sending him photos in his favorite positions as incentive for your apology..

Moral of the Story:

You thought it would be funny.

Now?

You might be single.

[cheol-e-kat]

Hi! New follower here! Im in love with your work! Could I please request Cheol x reader. Sexual frustration and ex sex please. Where ex's have been with other people but no one can get them off like their ex can. Thank you!!

haiiii not anon for once ^^ thanks for your follow ♡♡ and for participating in bingo - i hope you submit more asks

i know it's been a bit since you submitted this, but i hope you like it ^^

♡ kat

bingo squares: sexual frustration + ex sex

pairing: choi seungcheol / f!reader

summary: y/n is like cinderella, except instead of trying to be the one who can wear the glass slipper, she’s more like the prince - looking for the perfect dick - sadly, she already knows who her cinderella is, and just how nicely he fits in … her shoe? 

worse, they already tried and failed at dating - but maybe they could just fuck? 

word count:  2.4k

genre: alternate universe, f2l, ex sex, low key make up sex

Rating: 18+, MDNI, explicit

warnings below cut

warnings: explicit language, penetrative sex, fingering, oral sex, squirting, overstimulation 

y/n fell back against the cool sheets. 

she listened to the guy next to her breathing hard like he was on cloud nine after round 14 of pounding her pussy - it was round one and had been dull. 

“whew, that was fuckin’ amazin’, darlin’” he said giddily. 

she gave him her best customer service smile and reached for her phone. there was a text she desperately needed to send.

[y/n 04:23]

hiiii

she didn’t expect a response. ever probably. they had unquestionably broken up. she knew that. she definitely knew that.

but she had to try because the mediocre sex she had been having lately was just not it. 

she didn’t even look forward to sex anymore. it was dull, at best - she might as well be doing her taxes. 

instead, she was just wasting her time, placating men with her lack-luster, ‘oh, yes, b-a-b-y, that is just so good’…’yes, right there’…’u h u h’…’oh boy, howdy, just like that’- she was completely phoning it in. 

if they paid any attention, they would know she was speaking roughly like the worst pre-recorded robocall machine to ever be invented. but funnily, they never seemed to notice. so she just kept saying more and more unhinged things - she had to entertain herself somehow. 

she slid out of bed and grabbed her clothes and headed for the bathroom. 

he stopped her for a moment, “hey, now, i thought you promised you would stay the night, make me breakfast and all that,” he said with a wink.

she stared blankly for a moment because when the fuck had she ever offered anyone that, much less texas pete over here.

“oh, yeah, sorry about that sugar, but i plum forgot, i’ve got this thing in the mornin’ and i just can’t miss it, ya’ know?” she shrugged.

for some reason, she had let a friend drag her to a country western club the night before, and she had been using her best southern accent all night. it was heinous. but again, she had to make her own fun. 

“well damn,” he sighed, “i was lookin’ forward to that.” he squeezed her hand gently. “you just seem like you know your way around a kitchen,” he smiled again. 

it wasn’t that he wasn’t cute - he was fine. totally okay - for anyone else on the planet.

she nodded and smiled, “sorry to let ‘cha down, but my boss is a real son of a bitch,” she smiled as she spoke and slowly pulled her hand from his grasp. 

she went to the bathroom, cleaned up, threw on her clothes, and made a quick getaway. 

she was in an uber when she saw the text.

[cheol 04:23]

u up? also why?????

she smiled - a genuine smile for once.

[y/n 04:46]

just going thru a drought T-T

she stared at her phone for a moment before flipping it face down in her palm. she didn’t want to watch the lack of response. they had been friends. they should have never fucked. they should have never dated. because now she couldn’t even complain to him when things sucked. 

she felt her phone buzz and almost threw it. she really was not expecting a response.

[cheol 04:51]

you still know my address, right?

she read the message over several times before answering.

[y/n 04:52]

yea

he was quick with his response, though.

[cheol 04:52]

just come over then - i want to hear the southern accent tho

she snorted and asked her driver if he could change the address.

seungcheol answered the door in his underwear, which was cute and made her wonder where he had tossed his pjs - she knew he slept in them. 

he leaned against the door, smiling, “seriously, i want to hear it,” he whispered. 

she rolled her eyes, “oh god, at least let me come in first,” she pleaded.

he grinned and shook his head, “got to give me something,” he smiled cutely, “you know ‘m worth it,” he watched her with a flirty gaze she knew too well.

she looked him over, “fine,” she sighed, “uhh, hey, good lookin’,” she laughed, “fuck that was terrible.”

he nodded, still smiling, “come on, one solid thing,” he asked, his voice daring her.

she sighed softly and reached out - she caught her finger in the waist of his underwear and snapped it against his skin.

“fuck, really? how old are you?” he kept it to a whisper. his neighbors would complain otherwise. they both knew that all too well.

she smiled, “awe, darlin’ did that hurt? i didn’t mean nothin’ by it, my hand just got away from me, and lord knows what it’ll do next,” she scrunched her nose and held back a laugh. he looked dumbfounded. 

but he finally moved out of the way and let her in. 

she dropped her bag by the door and followed him into the kitchen. he tossed her a bottle of water. 

“so, shua’s idea was less than perfect?” he leaned on the counter, watching her.

she rolled her eyes, “i mean,” she paused, “why do you even know for one?”

he grinned, “you were killing him with the accent - you know his LA-brain can’t handle when you whip that out.”

she smiled and shook her head, “right, so just voice messages or what went into the gc?”

she knew there were several she was no longer in, but she tried to get past the awkwardness of that. besides he shook his head - the gc was sacred. 

she groaned, “look, can i shower?”

“you texted me at this time to take a shower?”

she shrugged and pouted, “please,” she put her hands together, pleading fully. 

she didn’t like the idea of being all grimy from a bar or from where she had been, which neither of them addressed. because if seungcheol knew about the accent and the bar, then he knew about the mechanical bull ride - which was 12 out of 10 in her opinion - and he knew about the guy she went home with.

he followed her into his bedroom and left her to find her way to the bathroom. she stripped and took a long shower, thankful for the hot water and that he still had the soap she picked out. by the time she was out and had dried off, she noticed that there were clothes for her to change into. she hadn’t even realized that he had come in - not that she minded. it was sweet. 

she pulled on one of his shirts and some boxers - and she wandered into his bedroom. she knew she should probably sleep on the couch, but when seungcheol reached out for her, she couldn’t resist. 

she was happy to climb into his warm bed and snuggle against his side. 

she woke up slowly - she wasn’t exactly surprised by where she was - she knew what it felt like to wake up with him. it was more of a bittersweet feeling. she barely admitted to herself that she missed him as much as she did. 

she tried to pretend that none of it bothered her - like seeing him with other people - or how absolutely fucking bored to death she was without him. she wanted to hurry up and leave before lying there dredged up too many feelings. 

the problem was when she moved - he pulled her back down, kissing her softly. and it worked like a spell. she couldn’t break that kiss - that perfect kiss with seungcheol that she had been missing so badly. 

and when his strong hands pulled her back where he wanted her, lying on top of him, she couldn’t resist that either. she kissed him and ran her hands through his hair. she moaned softly and happily let her tongue slide against his, tasting him. she felt his hands firmly trace along her thighs and ass, squeezing her cheeks and spreading them before finally giving her a soft smack that only made her smile. 

she felt like she was in a daze by the time she was on her back, and he was undressing her, kissing all the places he liked most. she played with his hair, savoring the feeling of him. she groaned softly as he kissed and licked her nipples, sucking at one breast and then the other, as his hand slid down between their bodies and his fingers began to tease her pussy. 

he didn’t say any ridiculous things as he stroked her clit. he didn’t ask any weird questions as he slid his fingers inside her, knowing what she liked and how. he filled her pussy without her needing to explain a single thing to him. 

he kissed her softly as he worked her open - stretching her the way she had been dying to be stretched for weeks. he was three fingers deep in her without any awkward exchange about how ‘yes’ she liked that feeling - she liked the edge it brought her to. but it was also basically required for a guy with a dick like seungcheol’s. 

she had missed his dick. 

she pressed him back gently, interrupting the normalcy of it, “can i go down on you?” she whispered. 

he nodded, “yeah, but i was about to do that to you,” he said with a soft smile. 

she reached up, smoothing his bangs, “we could both do it?” she asked, shrugging, pouting just a bit. 

his smile widened, “you really do miss it then?”

she flushed, wondering who the actual fuck had told him that little juicy nugget of information. and also, not really caring, because yes - she had. 

she nodded. 

and they moved so she was lying across him, her pussy in his face, and she was staring directly at the cock that she measured all other cocks against. were they as long as his? were they as thick as his? did they just look like a thing that belonged deep in her throat because his always looked that way.

she was felt his fingers and tongue making quick work of her - his fingers roughly massaging that little spongy spot that did things to her, while his tongue worked her clit. 

she moaned as she licked and sucked the head of his dick - she used her hand to work his length, squeezing the base of his cock tightly and loosening her grip as her hand came closer to her mouth - she pulled off, spitting in her hand before going back to working him. 

she took him deeper in her mouth, letting the head of his dick hit the back of her throat, loving how the smooth, soft skin felt against her tongue. she wanted him to fuck her face and make her gag.

but it was early in the morning - she knew he just wanted to fuck. not f u c k.

she knew she was close to coming, but she wanted to taste him. she started to work quicker, moving her mouth and hand in unison, creating the illusion that she was taking him deeper than she was - she could feel the hard way he was gripping her ass now.

she could hear his soft groans, and the gentle, whispered, “yeah, baby, just like that - so fucking good,” even as he dove back into her, licking and sucking her until she came, until she was a dripping mess that he licked into even more. he finally pulled back, “fuck, i love how you come for me.” he leaned back in, kissing her opening and licking into her - his fingers working her clit again. 

she shivered from the overstimulation, but she kept working his cock, licking and sucking even faster, until she felt the sudden explosion of liquid heat in her mouth - she forced herself to take him deeper, wanting all his cum down her throat. she swallowed and gagged around him. she kept pumping him, until she was sure she had swallowed every last drop. 

when she landed on her back again, and he grabbed her waist, pulling her into the position he liked - her legs wide, one over his shoulder, his hands under her ass lifting it so he could thrust fully into her. she loved when he made her take all of his cock. 

“miss this, baby girl?” he asked - his voice was so low. 

she nodded, “missed it so much,” she whined, grabbing the sheets before he was even inside her - she knew how good it would feel. and with how long it had been, she was sure it would be like the first time - like he was splitting her apart. 

and was she ever right about that part - she bit the back of her hand to keep from screaming. he didn’t stop to say anything - he knew she loved it - knew she loved the way he stretched her every time - not just the first time. 

she was a whining, whimpering mess - she could feel tears pricking the edges of her eyes as he was really fucking into her - rolling his hips relentlessly. 

when he reached down and grabbed her chin, “crying for me?”

she nodded.

“that good?” he asked, breathless and grinning smugly.

she nodded, “so fucking good cheol - i’ve missed you so much,” she whined. 

she definitely hadn’t meant to say that, and even in her dick-addled mind, she hoped he took it as ‘i missed your dick.’

but she felt him pause, it was this one millisecond of him staring at her, having heard her perfectly, knowing exactly what she meant. 

she was shocked when he shifted their position, all so he could lean down and kiss her while still managing to fuck her brains out. sloppy, sweet kisses that almost distracted her from what his cock was doing. 

“missed you too,” he whispered as they pulled apart.

and he sat back up, picking up both her legs this time, putting them over his shoulders, so his dick somehow hit even deeper. 

she yelped from the impact of his dick hitting as deep as he possibly could, pounding her cervix - not to mention he had decided to stroke her clit too.

she knew the familiar sound of her pussy being that wet - the lewd sound it made every time he thrust inside her, every time his dick just right - she knew what she was on the precipice of - and then it happened - he pulled out just in time for her to pussy to gush as she came. and then he was thrusting back into her, fucking her like she needed him too. until she felt him come - felt him fill her full and fuck it deep inside her. 

lying next to him after, even if he told her to ‘fuck off’ - at least she had gotten one more great fuck from him. 

but when he pulled her close and curled around her, she had the feeling she wasn’t leaving anytime soon. 

a/n: i've never written anyone in a 69 before - kind of fun hehe anywayysssss bingo responses are still be responding to, so if you want to send in an ask, feel free - i'm just a bit slow since i finally picked a long fic to work on

♡ kat

if you want to submit a bingo request, here are the bingo choices - just send an ask:

bingo v. 1 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 2 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 3 ⋆.˚ bingo v. 4 ⋆.˚ 333 followers bingo ⋆.˚ monster themed bingo ⋆.˚ bingo v. 5 (new)⋆.˚

♡ bingo reqs master list

♡ seungcheol: knotting + marking || professor (prof. choi, pt. 1) || monster || spanking (neighbor seungcheol) || big dick + hate sex || forced masturbastion (prof. choi, pt ii) || voyeurism + punishment || coffee shop au + forbidden relationship (untitled alpha!!cheol pt. 1) ||

♡ mingyu: lingerie + praise kink || bed sharing + big dick || praise + worship kink || vehicle sex + oral fixation || drunk pda + no underwear || enemies to lovers + tentacles ||

♡ seungcheol & mingyu threesome: oral ||

⋆.˚ my [master list] if you want to read more

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[honeyhour]

“well, to be fair, i did bring that up and it made your brain blue screen, so i thought you wanted to move on. just for the record though, i happen to like you the way you are. of course there’s still no harm in wanting to better yourself... i could probably benefit from some of that too.” who couldn’t? knowing este and her typical perfectionist tendencies, it’ll be a mighty long process before she’s even close to satisfied. “i’m not jealous, i’m perfectly happy with my height. i’ve gotten this far with it. if i ever need to see something up high, i always figure something out.” maybe she should start using one of those little stools you can buy. that’s probably safer than scaling counters to reach the top shelf like she has in the past. “films? i’m open to trying anything once, but i prefer not to be sad when i’m watching something... musicals are fun.” music is another huge element of putting together a skating performance; arguably one of the most important. it makes sense that she would find enjoyment in it elsewhere too, especially when it's done by people who are far more talented. “ew no, i do not wear tutus. costume or dress would be the usual term… if you’re lucky, i can show you mine one day. you said your favourite colour was red, right? i think i have one of those tucked away somewhere.” she’s tried just about every colour imaginable, some more flattering than others. considering how much they cost, brushing the dust off and letting them see the light of day again wouldn’t be the worst thing. might as well get her money's worth. “i couldn’t do that! what if i marked your pretty face? i’d never forgive myself.”

there is something to be said about how easily they toss the word 'couple' around as though he's not already in a relationship himself but given the parallel trajectory of his interactions with both sisters, it might end up being more apt in the long run. until then, the only way to nurture this is in secret and he doesn't know for how much longer that's required. "you're right. maybe we don't have to focus on the details like how i'm an asshole to seemingly everyone but you? believe it or not, i am trying to be a better person... maybe you're the first and only step i need to get there." likely all wishful thinking but with their interactions up to this point, it seems like she's content. not asking him to change for the 'better'. "okay so if it's an obvious advantage, does that mean it's a bad one? you're just jealous. fine — we can argue about something else if you want? what's your take on films? what kind do you like?" a bit of a jarring switch in topic but how else do you organically get to know someone outside of just asking them a bunch of questions? "you think i'd fit in your leotard?" he asks with a snicker. "that's what they're called right? not tutus?" his ignorance is showing, hoping that the benefit of the doubt here will earn him some extra brownie points and more of that brilliant smile. "noted — you can knock me out with your tiny fingers if you want. i'll try not to do anything egregious but no promises."

[marginofthought]

hi queennn, i’m experiencing some drought can u recommend some extremely good wincest fics that u LOVE pretty please? 🫶

This is probably really disappointing because quite frankly I have not read much lately (or this year) But here are some that I had bookmarked that I honestly do not remember right now, so I am trusting past me. Also, these are not close to canon so be warned if that is what you are looking for:

Five Conversations Dean Doesn’t Have With His Brother About Their Wedding + One That He Does by Dyed_Red: "I made you a promise in that church" ends up being a lot more literal than Dean had realized. How exactly does one tell their brother they're married?

To Hell and Back sadly orphaned: Dean's deal is seven months from coming due when he finds out that Ben's really his kid. They take Ben in, because Winchesters never leave family, not if they can help it. So they get out of the hunting life and settle down. Only problem? Dean's started to fall for Sam. (definitely not for canon loving peeps)

Not My Heaven by FictionalNutter: Follows Dark Side Of The Moon. Sam doesn't understand what was wrong with his Heaven, and Dean is struggling to trust a brother who so clearly didn't care for his family. After hurtful words are exchanged and Sam leaves, Castiel finds himself explaining exactly how Heaven should've been for the Winchesters, and Dean realizes that he and Sam truly need each other.  The Dean/Sam is more implied than anything else, based on the concept that they're soulmates. So, this isn't proper Wincest, but it can easily be read that way if you're looking for it.

At Dawn A New Sun Rises by vaelaerion: Since he presented as an alpha at fourteen, Sam’s always felt a disconnect with his dynamic. He’s kept it a secret from most, along with a few other things—especially from Dean. One night Sam wakes up alone in an alley with no idea how he got there, only to discover the following day that he’s not an alpha anymore—he’s an omega. Now everything Sam’s tried to keep hidden slowly starts to unravel.

Show Them Our Bones by Writerforthem: It's been a long time since things were this bad between them. Since the last time Dean decided he didn't give two shits about what Sam said. It's bad enough to make Sam cringe now, wondering how he'll ever get on Dean's good side again. If that's even possible. How does one say 'Sorry, I didn't rescue you from Purgatory'? You don't, he thinks to himself. Finding an empty house in the woods where hikers have been disappearing might not be the best place to finally clear the air, but it seems as if they won't have much choice once Sam gets taken and Dean is faced with just how bad Sam is dealing with their current conflict.  (→  I do remember this one and I love it)

If You're Warm, Then You Can't Relate To Me by gothpandaotaku: Post S10E22 The Prisoner. "You know what I think? I think it should be you up there." The words keep running through Sam's head, like a song on repeat. The worst part is, he agrees with Dean. It should be him up there. How the hell is he supposed to tell Dean he's

[lovebyhyun]

spark lost

genre : angst (no happy ending), one-sided love, non-idol!felix x f!reader

synopsis : when the spark once so bright, now is just burnt out.

warnings : swearing, crying, cheating, unhealthy coping mechanisms (drinking), felix is very delusional, reader is an ass

a/n : i accidentally deleted this halfway through writing and im actually so sad :( i have a few hyunjin pcs on the way tho muehehehe so just wanted to share that. enjoy! ^._.^

masterlist

It was all so hard to watch. The way Felix was so hopelessly devoted to you was sickening. And how you could pull at that poor man’s heartstrings, making them snap so easily, it was terrifying, but in some kind of a weird way impressive.

The worst part is, Felix was so oblivious to that little game you were playing on him. No, not even playing. You straight up just didn’t care about him.

And he always thought he was the problem. That he was too clingy and didn’t give you enough space, or that he just simply wasn’t enough. And the process of it always looked the same.

The hands that once cupped your face in an affectionate and loving manner, now are only used to wrap around full vodka bottles, shot glasses if he’s feeling fancy.

Not tonight tho.

Gulping down the substance at an accelerating speed, all of your shared moments were flashing in his head like shooting stars. Because you were his star once.

Every sip reminded him of a different memory.

Your first date together, and how your smile made everyone else in that same room disappear.

Your first trip as a couple, when you would walk around for miles together in Italy just because you wanted a specific flavour of gelato.

And of course, the sweet domestic moments. Something as simple as your hand ghosting over his while you were both washing your teeth on a sunday morning.

But of course, the sips with a bitter aftertaste also came.

The first crack in the glass, at least the first one that he noticed. When he invited you to his aunt’s wedding as a plus one and when your hand would be brushing over his cousin’s chest just a bit too much, and your touch lingering just a bit too long.

But how could he ever hate you? You were always so considerate and helpful towards other people. You were always willing to stay at work for a few more hours because your coworker needed help with a few things, or when you met up with your colleague from high school. Even though Felix and you had dates planned for those evenings, that didn’t matter. He loved seeing his angel so happy after coming home later.

That’s what you were to him. A sweet, pure, innocent and a nothing but loving soul. He couldn’t say a bad word about you, no matter how badly he tried. It was physically impossible for him.

“I love you” your words rang in his head as he lazily lied in his bathtub in his endrunken state. Even though he hasn’t heard them in a while, he still considered the love between you two a sure thing. Either he couldn’t or was too scared to, Felix couldn’t see past the love goggles he always had on when it came to you. Doesn’t matter. For him, All that matters is that you love him. Supposedly.

“Hey love! will you be at my birthday party?” a few days later, he types out on his phone happily. Birthdays were always so important for Felix, so he couldn’t help but let the excitement bubble in his chest at the thought of having the love of his life by his side on the special day. So he waited for your reply.

“yes ill be there” you coldly reply a few hours later, since you were probably busy fucking your male friends. Felix’s birthday almost flew past your mind, not that you cared, but for some reason you decided to show up anyway.

“Yay!!! so happy, ill see u soon!! i love you :D” Felix replied in the speed of light with a huge grin on his face. You obviously loved him so much!

Message read

He was so oblivious.

The day of his birthday party came shortly after that conversation. You two didn’t talk much, you didn’t see each other either. You must’ve been so busy - Felix thought to himself as he was laying out plates and snacks on the table. He loved having his birthday celebrated so much, so he did it with a pathetically large smile plastered on his face.

And his excitement got even worse while getting ready. Choosing his outfit, fixing his hair and all. Everything he did, he did for you specifically. So he could be perfect, because that’s what you were for him. A perfect angel sent from above.

He didn’t know whether you sinned or became a fallen angel, but he didn’t understand why would they sent you on earth to deal with him.

While humming softly to the music surrounding him and swaying around to the rhytm, he started receiving messages about his friends being on their way. He shut the music off and waited. Not for the guests. He waited for a message from you.

Well, he never got one. And even a few hours later, when the party was in full-swing, he was still waiting. He just couldn’t really focus on anything without you by his his side, which means he didn’t focus much these days.

But then, somewhere through the aggresive bassline pulsing through the house, he heard the doorknob twisting and the sound alone made him feel like he ascended to heaven on the spot. Felix quickly made his way towards the front door and he saw you.

He saw how you applied glitter on your eyelids, he saw your beautiful red lipstick, smudged ever so slightly on your chin for some odd reason, and he saw the beautiful dress you wore for the evening. You truly looked like you were sculpted by gods.

He noticed everything about you that night. He pretended that he didn’t notice the faint purple hickey mark on your neck though.

You flashed him a forced smile and patted his shoulder, not bothering to answer the kiss he blessed your forehead with or the hug he pulled you into. You made your way to the living room where all the guests were having fun and Felix followed you around like a lost puppy.

You made yourself comfortable on the couch next to one of his old high school friends, Jake. Felix, too caught up in admiring you, didn’t even notice how touchy you and Jake were getting. Right next to him. He snapped out of his trance when he noticed you winking at the other boy. Felix tried to convince himself at maybe your eye twitched, but his mind was slowly realizing what the hell was going on now, and what the fuck has been going in for a long time.

His lips part slightly and his smile drops just enough for people to notice, not enough for people to intervene. He’s only now realising how pathetic he looks, in his stupid birthday hat, on his stupid birthday party, staring at his girlfriend who is clearly interested in his friend.

He tries to shake the feeling off but it’s just not working anymore. What was even more grounding for him, was the unease untying in his chest as he noticed you and Jake getting up. By muscle memory, Felix also stands up, yanking his dumb birthday hat off. He’s ready to go with you, he would follow you even if you wnated to walk across the whole globe.

“Hey, stay here for a minute. I’ll be back in a moment.” were the last words he heard before you and Jake went away to a separate room, giggling and whispering into each other’s ears.

Oh.

[darkmuffinstudios]

awful news gamers /lh

[c0ffinbabie]

Im sorry I'm not as good as other artists I get it Im bad at everything I do this for fun I'm literally in the worst place of my life and everyone decides to say shit on a post Abt me going to the mental hospital like this was made with my finger not pencil it was a ten minute drawing so no it's not going to be amazing and Im not good at art anyways but saying it's ugly is so hurtful I only posted it BCS in a server I said it I could redo it but nothing i ever do is good enough. I draw for fun not for aesthetic and everyone ruined my fun why is everyone so mean to me i just want friends and positivity but everyone ruins that so thx for saying its the ugliest thing ever and it looks autistic BCS a fucking autistic person made it. I'm already so insecure Abt everyone now i probably won't be able to draw as a coping skill BCS I'm just going to remember how bad I truly am. This might seem dramatic but I'm trying my best to use coping skills and have fun but that's ruined BCS of ppl I literally posted that before i went to a mental hospital and ppl just made it worse I get it no one cares Abt me and I'm bad at everything i have no future. Why does no one want to be nice to me I try so hard to make friends or for ppl to like me but everyone hates me and thinks I'm horrible. I can't believe I got bullied over a poor quality 10 min drawing i did during class ik it's shit I just wanted to post it for shits and giggles but I got shitted on and giggled at. And for anyone wondering how I'm doing im doing worse the hospital was hell and I didn't need to see negative things abt me but that's my life ig all I want is friends that supports me i wish ppl liked me i try so hard to fit in but no matter what im ignored or ppl are mean im sorry abt this im just going through a lot and no one seems to care. I just have one question what makes you think it's okay to make fun of art on a post Abt going to a mental ward. Everyone starts somewhere and I usually draw it on paper and then digitally and usually takes from an hour to two and a half hours while that took me 10mins I just thought ppl would like lesbian columbine but ig it's too bad to even get anything positive this also it's my usual art style and my first time doing a drawing with side profile so it's not gonna be amazing I just want ppl to be nice is that really that hard to get no matter where I go irl or online everyone is against me. I just want to die I don't matter or else ppl would like me I'm unlovable and unlikable so I'm sorry I'm shit at everything there are you all happy. Y'all are dicks. Even in the hospital I made someone mad and they wouldn't stop triggering my PTSD over small shit to the point I screamed why do I have to go extreme for anyone for things to stop. I didn't want to lash out but I'm literally in my breaking point I can't take it anymore I just wanted ppl to like me and be nice I'm ignored by everyone it's like I'm not even here I don't matter ppl has shown me that no matter how hard I try it doesn't matter or worse it gets

Hey guys I won't be active I'm going to the mental hospital I love you and I'll miss you all

Anyways here's some wlw dylric

[vickozone]

I did it.

I slayed The Princess.

[mod-autumn]

TAOCC legends of Avantris AU

[lover-of-mine]

Another day, the walls are built to keep me safe, I can't escape, it's too late...

[cookinguptales]

pmdd has you crying in bed like "and the fact that I cry for like three days every month is another reason why no one will ever love me!!!"

patently ridiculous illness

[ganondoodle]

struggling again with extreme artblock and general demotivation (as in nothing seems fun or appealing and you sit around staring at nothing doing nothing bc apparently no matter what i do whether drawing or not drawing i end up like this now)

i started to watch skitties totk video (again) and wrote a big post about how much i hate how the gorons are treated there but saved it as a draft like i have been doing with several rants now in order to not spam people with it over and over

but it does end up feeling like talking to a wall and just kinda .. increasing this looming feeling of extreme loneliness i have been fighting with for .... since i left school really..