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#just thinking about this today and just needed to make it clear in case there was any doubt
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can i request the Obey me brothers and/or the datables reaction to you being jealous ☺️
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mc gets jealous
obey me x gn!reader
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a/n: the intro is so long in comparison to what i wrote for the characters lmao
cw: the gender of the person flirting with the characters is not mentioned. they don’t leave even after he’s told them to [belphie’s part]
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The two of you have been spending less time together lately, your personal responsibilities keeping you apart longer than they usually would. But when you realised the both of you hadn’t gone on a date in weeks, you decided to surprise them with one at a popular cafe in the human world.
Once seated at a comfortable corner, you kiss them on the cheek and tell them you’ll be right back with your orders. The trip from the counter to your seats couldn’t have taken more than 4 minutes but when you walk back, there’s a stranger at your spot next to them. By their body language, it’s clear they’re trying to snatch up your obviously irritated significant other.
Maybe it’s because today was finally a free day for the two of you, combined with not seeing them as much as you would’ve liked– but when you finally arrived at your table, you set down your orders with a little more force than necessary.
With eyes as cold as a storm as you possessively inserted yourself by your lover’s side, you asked the stranger in your seat, “Do you need something from us?”
lucifer
A smug little smirk makes its way to his handsome face when the stranger decides not to start anything and walks away.
And while a part of him doesn’t even want to wait until they’re out of earshot– the same part of him that wants to kiss you senseless in front of the many suitors you have– he refrains from doing anything too rash in public.
If he was in his demon form, his wings would ruffle from how you pridefully claimed him to be your lover in front of this “threat”. Not that anyone has the potential to be one when you’re all he ever thinks about in the late hours of the night.
When you sit down next to him once more, still obviously slightly angry after the ordeal, he gently holds your hand and presses it to his lips.
Just in case it wasn’t clear to anyone else in the cafe that the two of you are together.
“There’s no need to be jealous, my dear. I’m all yours.”
mammon
He gets a little flustered when you’re at his side but he soon gets over it and pulls you closer.
“In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m taken. Now, scram.”
Unlike Lucifer, he doesn’t even wait until the person leaves before he gets up to kiss you (on the cheek, he can only handle so much PDA).
“Took ya long enough! Seemed like you were takin’ forever.” “I was gone 5 minutes, Mams.” “Same thing.”
He’s sweet. And needy– but that’s why you love him. Another kiss on the cheek and it seems like he’s already forgotten what happened.
He hasn’t obviously. He’s going to daydream about this for the next 4 months every night before he goes to sleep because it proves you’re just as greedy for him as he is for you.
He’ll tease you about it, of course. “You must really love me if that got ya jealous.” He’ll stop if you ask him too but he’s still going to be giddy about it.
leviathan
He’s so relieved once you’re here because he had no idea what to do. He doesn’t even realise that he’s leaning towards you.
It isn’t until the stranger leaves that he realises that he’s still extremely close to you while in a public cafe.
He instantly gets so embarrassed and wants to leave.
It doesn’t take you long to put the pieces together– so you take your orders to go and pull him outside the cafe and into a nearby park.
“S-Sorry… I know you really like that place.” Now he’s worried that you might hate him for getting embarrassed and potentially ruining the date for the two of you.
When you reassure him that it’s fine and that you can always go to some other place, he calms down enough and the situation completely dawns on him– you got jealous because you thought someone else wanted his affections (which he still isn’t completely sure of btw).
His face is flushed pink when he thinks about it. You love him enough to fight for him.
“What? Oh- uhm.. it’s nothing– just thinking about how cool you looked back in the cafe when you got jealous, hehe.” < is imagining scenarios in his head and totally planning on telling Henry 2.0 about this exciting development in your relationship.
satan
He was about to commit a crime right before you came along.
Usually, he would be better at keeping his anger in check but this is your first date in a while and he’s not about to have some rando ruin it for the two of you.
“Leave.” is all he says to them with a glare sharper than Asmo’s heels.
He calms down as soon as he sees you seated next to him once more.
“They’re lucky you came when you did. The absolute nerve of some people–” he shuts up once you kiss him on the cheek.
While the two of you eat your food, he realises that your actions may have been caused by a spur of jealousy. He’s quick to tease you about it.
“Was somebody jealous? Well, now you know how I feel whenever one of my brothers take you away.”
He thinks you’re so cute when you’re jealous, but he refrains from teasing too much lest you lightly make fun of him when he’s green with envy.
asmodeus
Don’t get him wrong, he absolutely loves attention– but not at the expense of the two of you spending time together.
As soon as you’re next to him, he stands up and pulls you even closer than you already were.
“Ugh, MC~ where were you? I was so bored.”
He’s acting all whiny and needy, pressing his face into the crook of your neck and completely ignoring the other person.
It’s not long before they turn red in the face and storm out of the cafe.
“Finally, they’re gone,” he complains, checking underneath his nails like he was afraid some of their filth might have latched itself to him.
“You’re adorable when you’re jealous, have I told you that?” 
He’s so quick to tease, even though he’s 100x worse when he’s jealous.
Somehow, he’s even more clingy the rest of the date. He's holding your hand, kissing your cheek, pulling you close to him the entire time– his own way of telling you and everyone else that he’s yours and you’re his.
beelzebub
He’s pretty clueless as to what’s happening and what the stranger’s intentions are– but when you come along, his passive face instantly lights up with a smile.
He is so in love with you, that you’d have to be blind to not see the way he looks at you, like your presence alone makes his heart full.
The stranger realises that they didn’t have a chance from the beginning, and Beel doesn’t even notice them leaving.
He notices that you seem angry at something, so he gently takes your hand and seats you beside him again– handing the slightly ruined food to you.
“You look angry. You should eat, it’ll make you feel better.”
He was right, it did make you feel better. Along with him happily eating all the orders you got him.
He won’t bring up the stranger unless you bring it up, but if you do, he’ll just shrug.
“Them? I don’t know, they just came up to me and sat on our table. I don’t mind when people do that but they were interrupting our date. I didn’t want to get angry and make a scene.”
belphegor
Belphie is spoiled. And he is tired.
When someone comes and sits on your seat, trying to flirt when the two of you came in together– he is instantly pissed off.
He wants nothing more than to “make” them leave, but he can’t (at least not in the way he wants to). So he just decides to be upfront instead.
“Do you mind? That seat is taken by my s/o– the one who walked in with me, in case I need to remind you.”
When they still don’t leave, he’s very seriously considering putting a curse on them.
But before he starts the incantation, you arrive in an equally bad mood.
Recognising that it’s two against one, they roll their eyes and leave, muttering something under their breath all the way.
“That was so tiring…” < (he spoke three sentences)
If you offer to go home, he refuses, saying that you both planned this already.
“I’ll try my best to stay awake but I can’t guarantee it. When we get back home, you owe me a nap.”
The sly little bitch managed to turn the whole thing in his favour.
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quasieli · 1 year
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Guess it's just gonna be another day of getting pissed off and upset by things my father has said to me 🙃🙃
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violetclarity · 2 years
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like...not trying to offend anyone but I’m honestly becoming more and more convinced that catholocism (& probably christianity as a whole) are simply irredeemable? like I understand that the actual message in the bible is all about love and peace or whatever, but I don’t understand how you can look at all the harm that christiandom has wrought and continues to wreak, all the people they have hurt in the name of their faith, and think that the probably intention of some dudes a couple thousand years ago means more than...all of that.
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andthebeanstalk · 11 months
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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ozzgin · 3 months
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I love your work! you have such a fun take on yandere's and I would love to see what kind of yandere hcs you could cook up for a host-club / paid to go on dates with you yandere ❤️ double points if you can make it so that the reader is never really one to cross a line or think the yandere really likes them...
If you don't want to do this prompt tho I completely understand ❤️
The idea makes me a little nostalgic as it gives me Ouran vibes. Also reminded me I've never played 'Men of Yoshiwara' past the prologue, which also has male courtesans ready to service you. In any case, it's definitely something I can expand on! :)
Yandere! Host x Reader
You've never considered yourself to be the type frequenting host clubs. Yet the loneliness is becoming noticeable and perhaps it's your lack of experience keeping you out of the dating scene. Mingling with paid professionals could prepare you for a future boyfriend. Except your assigned host has other plans in mind for you.
Content: gender neutral reader, inexperienced reader, obsessive behavior, manipulation
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Ah, you definitely don't belong here. He can tell within seconds and he hasn't even reached the table yet. You're nervously readjusting the sleeves of your shirt - do you usually not wear such outfits? - and merely glance around the room for a brief moment before casting your eyes back down in sheepish modesty. Well, not necessarily a sight of unpreceded novelty. Many people are intrigued by the idea of a host club, so even just idle curiosity is enough incentive for one to end up among the charismatic crowd of paid affections. Today it's you who has stumbled into the hungry mouth of the wolf, and he happens to be the one to entertain you away from whatever unpleasantries are currently consuming you.
He gently stretches his slender fingers across your shoulder, a feathery touch light enough as to not startle you. You look up and acknowledge his presence, ready to stand up for introductions. His hold on you is firm, letting you know there is no need to leave the comfort of your sofa. "Now then, this isn't a job interview. You don't need to be so formal." He explains with a chuckle. You nod. Embarrassingly enough, your eyes are glued to his face for longer than what you'd consider polite admiration. A waste of good looks is your immediate thought. Surely someone as stunning as him could've worked as a model or actor. You suspect he isn't as enthusiastic to meet you as his voice leads one to believe, so the ability to pretend certainly isn't missing.
One peek at the table next to you, and the answer quickly presents itself. An older woman is inspecting the menu, surrounded by multiple bottles of champagne whose name even you recognize. You doubt the average acting career could provide this amount of luxury. The corners of your lips curl slightly upwards in a pitiful self awareness. Sadly for this guy, you're not a big spender. Whether he, too, is aware of this disappointing fact is impossible to tell. His handsome features remain cheerfully relaxed. "Tell me about yourself. What brings a darling like you here?" He inquires graciously, resting his chin on the back of his hands as he settles before you with an intent gaze.
You narrate your hardship: whether because of your looks or your awkwardness, something impedes you from having acquired a partner; and so the idea of gaining experience through less orthodox means came to fruition. Your host listens carefully, refilling your glass every now and then with a compassionate frown, lips parted in unspoken sympathy. Of course, he understands. Naturally. Once you're finished, he straightens himself in newfound determination: worry not, he will be your coach in love.
Thus begins the unusual partnership. You hadn't expected the man to readily agree to such a ridiculous request. A handful of visits have made it clear to you he's in high demand, most likely one of the top earners. Why would he waste his precious (and otherwise profitable) time with a humble customer like you? Maybe it's bad form to refuse lower paid offers too often, so he's keeping you for balance. You'll never know. His professionalism betrays no hint of annoyance.
You cannot help but marvel at his masterful lying. It becomes quite clear to you why so many people fall helplessly in love with paid hosts. Everything is executed with the utmost care for detail. The loving caress of the cheek he occasionally initiates, seemingly unprompted. The long, ardent stares into your eyes, as you must practice your eye contact. His hot lips brushing against your fingers while he spoils you with diminutives and sickly sweet words of appreciation.
You frequently have to remind yourself that everything is dictated by a contract. A code of conduct meant to be replicated for you and all other clients coming afterwards. How many other poor souls fawn over this alluring devil? You wouldn't want to burden him with an additional customer who forgets boundaries. You know your place too well.
Admirable manners. Frustratingly so. He wishes you'd just give in already and drop the shy act around him. You've caught his interest from the moment he spotted you in that cluttered, crowded room reeking of overpriced alcohol and solitude. Everything about you signaled blindingly clear: you're someone others can easily take advantage of. To think you would've landed right in his hands, to be molded as he pleases. The little sob story about being inexperienced with men, your clumsy attempts to follow along his flirts. Oh, you're just begging to be defiled. Again, and again and again, until there's nothing left of you. Then he'd caringly patch you back together and start anew. His very own corner of innocence.
The indecent daydreams are cut short when you proudly announce, during one of your dates, that you finally feel confident enough to pursue a genuine partner. You have booked a nice hotel room for this occasion; One last gesture of grandeur to show your gratitude for all the advice and love (even though it wasn't genuine). He's sitting on the edge of the plush mattress, dumbfounded, fiddling with the thick, ornate border of the bed runner. Huh? What the hell are you talking about? He's spent all this time getting to know you. What gets you flustered and bothered, what makes you excited, sad, anxious, angry, bored. He taught you how to come out of your shell. Why, so you can go ahead and waste yourself on some fucking idiot?
"My, aren't you eager. You haven't even had your first kiss." He says with a cheeky smile. "I think I can manage-" you want to say, but he quickly interrupts with a curt: "No one likes an amateur kisser". You're immediately silenced. His voice sounds cold, with a hint of anger in it. "I'm sorry, darling love, it's true." He resumes in an entirely different tonality, dragging his words with an eerie kindness attached to them. He tuts a little, turning towards you and patting his knees. There, there, don't look so deflated. If a simple observation like his hurt you this much, how would you handle the much meaner, downright heartless world out there?
Such is reality. Men are cruel and you had the bad luck to be born with a gentle heart. He delicately guides you to sit in his lap, cupping your burning face between his large hands. He knows this expression too well - you're humiliated. And thus, can he truly allow anyone else out there to see you so vulnerable like this? No, this kind of intimacy is reserved for him. You must understand. He has disciplined you to his liking, and simultaneously learned all the nooks and crannies of your being. It's too late to go back to a simple host and client relationship.
"Why don't you practice with me first, love?" He breaks the silence, placing his lips against your forehead in encouragement. You feel a sudden pressure faintly throbbing underneath you. "T-the kiss?" You ask hesitantly, trying to ignore the sensation and squirming in his tightening hold.
"Everything."
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angelltheninth · 1 year
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Can you do headcanons of Neteyam and Lo’ak with a human gf who loves to pounce on their backs just so she can flutter the backs of their necks in kisses?
Aww, how cute. I like the way you think Anon.
Pairing: Neteyam, Lo'ak x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, piggyback ride, neck kissing, purring, tail shenanigans, size difference
A/N: The Na'vi are so damn tall, and for what? So they can best carry you of course, and be cute about it.
NETEYAM
The first time you jump on his back he tries you buck you off on pure instinct only to realize it's you when you laugh next to his ear
He rolls his eyes at you, asking you if you're tired, if you are you should have told him you needed a break
He's well aware that he's a lot faster and more nimble then you so he wouldn't expect you to always be able to keep up
That wasn't it at all, you just wanted to be close to him, you miss him, even though you see him every day
Fine, fine, he won't tell you to get off but be careful not to fall, he'll hold you by the thighs just in case
You can feel his hands trembling against you, him trembling, he's nervous about being so close
Still he keeps on walking, not as fast as before though, almost like he wants to make the moment last
He stops and gasps when he feels you kiss his neck for the first time, right where it meets the spine
Then you do it again and again, and he's trembling even more
No, no trembling, he's purring, you can feel his chest rumbling under your fingertips when when he tried to cover it up by clearing his throat, he starts walking even slower after that, never looking back in fear that you'd see his flustered looking face
LO'AK
Even though he hears you running he doesn't move to the side, he's ready to catch you and ask you why you're jumping all over him
His hands brace under your knees to prevent you from falling while he says that he'll just carry you back if you don't feel like accompanying him today
Clearly that's not the issue as you only tighten your hold on him
He merely shrugs and chuckles as he begins walking your usual route
Whenever he has to make a jump or leap you feel his body and his grip tense up
His tail keeps brushing up against your leg, playful just like it's owner
His calm and collected breathing comes to a halt when you start kissing his neck
You pause to see how he'll react, you can't really see his face but it's clear from the way his tail flicks and the deep sound he makes that he enjoys the soft kisses
He's too embarrassed to say it so he tries to engage you in a conversation, talk about his day, asking about yours
If he were to look at you right now you'd probably see him biting his lip in an effort to keep any more embarrassing sounds from coming out
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QUEEN’S THRONE. 18+
pairing. bucky barnes x fem!reader
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> the first image has no implication of readers skin tone, the picture itself has the feel of the fic!!
word count. 2041
summary. you have been feeling insecure and been nitpicking yourself apart. bucky notices and shows you how much he loves your body by asking you to sit on his face
warnings. 18+ only!! reader is feeling insecure within her body and weight, descriptions involving self doubts, little bit of body worship, cunnilingus, face sitting, bucky being a munch and cuming untouched. minors dni
based on this request
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No one ever really prepares you for how difficult it is to like yourself, to find parts of your body you don't hate. To not tear yourself apart over things you deem ugly or heinous. 
There's no manual you get for counteracting these doubts in your mind. You're supposed to trick yourself into thinking otherwise - to deceive the mistrust in your brain. But sometimes, the lies you tell yourself to feel better have no effect on you - the affirmations you repeat in rituals feeling like robotic words from self-help blogs. 
You stand naked in front of the full-length mirror in your room, towel on the floor pooled around your ankles. Damp strings of hair collecting on your shoulders, the almost dry strands indicating the time you've stood looking at yourself.
The skin under your eyes soaked with tears, flesh sore and tender from the last near twenty minutes of picking yourself apart. Your gaze hones in on yourself in the mirror, looking at the reflection of your thighs, mindlessly staring at the chub you consider ugly.
Your eyes sadly trail up to your stomach, taking note of the wideness of your hips and patches of stretch marks that litter those areas. Seeing yourself in the reflection after a day of feeling bad about yourself was not a healthy coping mechanism, nor was it one you would encourage - but there was just something inside of you, something inside your brain telling you to nitpick your 'problem' areas. 
It was like there was an evil little gremlin in your mind that made things worse for yourself. That made you give in to the doubts and insecurities - that made you believe them.
Sometimes, you had a better hold on that gremlin, quietening that voice with your own, but on others, like today, that was not the case. You had a difficult day, feeling like a sore thumb everywhere you went - feeling like you stood out in all the worst ways. But that was not the truth - the people you passed on the street were too preoccupied with their own spiral of doubt and shame to even notice your 'problem' areas. 
But, right now, you had no space left for rationality - that loud, pitiful voice overshowing the logical parts of your brain.
You hear a light knock on the door, the sound snapping you out of thought. 
"You've been in there a while. Everything okay?" your boyfriend, James, calls out, his tone soft. 
You clear your throat and grab an oversized tee - throwing on the closest one you can find. "Yeah, out in a minute," you reply, evening your voice to avoid detection. 
"Mind if I come in. Need to grab something," Bucky asks, words muffling behind the closed door.
You hesitate momentarily. "Okay."
The door opens, and Bucky steps into the room, eyes immediately landing on the back of you - head cocking to the side suspiciously. He picks up a t-shirt he pretended to need and walks around the bed to you on the other side - standing beside you as you look out the window. 
"What you looking at?" he asks, subtly scoping you out. 
"Just been looking at the moon," you lie, nodding to the silver crescent in the night sky.
Though he doesn't believe you, keeping his eyes on you as you try to redirect his attention. He extends his neck, reaching his head out to see more than just the side of your face - to see the giveaway he knew was there.
He twists you around more to look at him, making you show your face that you've been trying to hide. His eyes land on yours momentarily before you divert them away, turning from his gaze almost shamefully. He takes note of the sore under your eyes, how they look damp and swollen - how tired you look.
"What's the matter? What's wrong?" he asks, worry evident in his voice. "What's the matter?" he repeats quieter, features softening as he looks at you.
"Nothing," you shrug, turning away from him. "Probably just tired," you partially lie.
He parts focus from you and begins to place together the pieces you weren't willing to share. He glances around the room until he lands on the mirror, the towel on the floor confirming his theory. 
Poking his neck out, trying to meet your gaze again, he calls your name - trying to refocus you.
"You have to stop doing that to yourself," he murmurs, twisting you around to him for the final time. "You're so mean to yourself, and you don't deserve it," he softly shakes his head, reinforcing his words. 
"I wasn't doing that," you reply, bottom lip beginning to tremble with your lie. "I don't do— I don't do that anymore."
His head tilts to the side, not believing you. "Honey," he coos, drawing out the term of endearment as he brings you in for a hug - wrapping you up in an embrace. 
"I don't," you continue, voice almost breaking. "I don't," you repeat, shaking your head softly in the crook of his neck. 
"Okay," he hums, brushing comforting strokes up your back, soothing you. "I know," he murmurs.
He holds you like that, large hands engulfing the middle of your back, caressing you with delicate touch and waiting for you to pull away. 
"I'm sorry," you sniffle, backing away as you wipe your nose on your hand. "I'm being stupid," you shrug with a weak smile, self-depreciation creeping in.
Bucky shakes his head firmly, a soft furrow of his brows indicating his distaste for the topic. He extends his hands to your face, placing palms over your cheeks - stilling your face and making you look at him. "Stop it," he scolds, voice warm and gentle. His hands secure on your face, eyes boring into yours. "You have to stop doing that."
You sigh, a slow, uneasy exhale leaving your lips as if to steady yourself.
"I think you're perfect," he whispers, pressing a kiss onto your cheek - absorbing the tear from your skin. "I wish you could see it too."
His hands leave the placement on your cheeks, moving down to rest on your hips over your tee. One flesh, one metal sitting on the curve. He keeps his eyes locked on you, looking for signs of discomfort, only to find none - your gaze trusting and enamoured. 
Bending at the knee in front of you and at eye level with your 'problem' areas, he glides his hands up your outer thighs - palms running over them intently. He keeps his eyes locked on your upper legs, watching the soft jiggle of the chub - utterly captivated by their beautiful shape.
He hesitantly runs his hands higher and towards your hips, forearms catching on the hem of your t-shirt, rising and revealing your bare pussy underneath. He inhales harshly, the lewd sight of you mere inches away from your face. 
He presses soft kisses over your plump thighs, almost worshipping you - on his knees, kissing parts of you he adores most. He glances up to meet your gaze, your eyes already locked on him.
His kisses trail higher, lining up the crease between cunt and thigh, working up the cute swell of your tummy. "You're beautiful," he murmurs,
words muffling into your hip. "And so perfect."
You rake your fingers into his hair, softly stroking his scalp - all thoughts from earlier dissipating slowly, everything feeling inconsequential with your pretty boyfriend on his knees between your legs.
"Sit on my face," he mutters, pulling away from your stomach to look up at you. "I want you on my face."
Your half-lidden eyes fling open, shock almost slapping you across the face. "What?" you question, gently tugging Bucky's head away from your tummy. "No," you shake your head. "I'll hurt you."
He faintly chuckles as he stands, leaning back onto the mattress. "You won't," he smiles, resting his head on the pillows behind, getting comfortable. "Come on," he nods you over, beckoning you to your throne. 
"I don't know," you reply sheepishly, glancing over him.
"You don't have to sit— just hover."
You step closer and kneel on the bed, pausing like you're debating yourself. "I don't want to squash you."
"You won't," he shakes his head, his expression eager. "Just... come on."
With a gentle sigh and a nod, you crawl up the bed, scooching along the mattress on your knees until you're beside his head. You grip the headboard for support as you lift a leg, placing it on the other side of his head, situating yourself in a hover over his face. 
"I don't want to hurt you— please tell me if I do," you worry, lifting the hem of your t-shirt to get a better look at him below.
"Promise," he says lowly, placing his hands on the swell of your thighs, slowly guiding your pussy closer.
He lays his tongue flat against the slit of your cunt, an immediate pleased hum muffling into your folds. The warm contact of his tongue makes your thighs tremble and breath hitch, everything feeling new from this heightening position. 
With light pressure, he swipes through your pussy lips, tongue lapping you in a leisure rhythm as the tip of his nose bumps at your clit.
His palms graze over your thighs, reaching up to the crease where he can get a hold of you and push you down onto his face. But you notice his pawing and swat his hands off - raising yourself back into a hover and lifting further away.
Bucky doesn't let you go far before he's pushing you back down, a firm grip on your waist keeping you still. "Stay," he muffles into your cunt, caressing it with slow, sloppy kisses.
He laps at your pussy, burying his tongue further into the wet warmth of you - repeated pleasure-filled groans vibrating against you as you give into the bliss. You finally allow yourself to enjoy the moment without doubt getting in the way - all worry slowly being replaced by euphoria as you sink further onto his face.
Meeting his gaze over the top of your pussy, he gives you a wink - the act like silent praise, him voicelessly applauding you for tuning out the voice in your head. 
With one hand on the headboard, you dip the other down, circling the ache in your clit a few times before moving into the short, dark brown hairs at the top of his head. Tugging on his hair as if you're holding him there.
His grip on your waist trails down, moving back to the plush of your thighs where he squeezes - fingers digging into the doughy flesh. He holds you there, muffling moans against your folds as he coats the insides of his boxers in a sheen of his cum - the taste and feel of you alone, enough to send him over the edge.
You twist your neck, looking over your shoulder to the tented cock in his sweats, his head protruding through the wet patch of where he just came. A breath gets caught in your throat at the lewd image, and it all begins to feel like too much, all your senses consumed in the feeling.
With the knot tightening in your tummy, you feel yourself grow closer to the edge - the soft jerk of your hips indicating the closeness of your climax. Within moments, you're cuming on Bucky's tongue, whining broken and spluttered noises into the air.
He continues to hold you there, making out with your cunt through your orgasm - lapping up everything that seeped out. Letting you smear your juices on the bottom half of his face.
You lift your leg from the other side of his head, moving from his face and flopping backwards onto the bed. Laying heads and tails, completely spent. 
But Bucky follows after you - not letting you get far. And before you have a second to process it, he's back between your legs, lips kissing at the soft plush of your inner thighs.
Poking his head up to look at you, he asks. "One more?"
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Text
Spies and Secrets
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Summary: Natasha has never met her handler, she couldn’t give you their name or identify their face because she doesn’t know it. When she rants about this to you, her wife, you have to laugh... because you are her handler.
Word Count: 2048
Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x F!Reader
Warnings: Swearing, lying in the relationship (not in a bad way, just in a spy way), but otherwise it’s just fluff!
A/N: I went back and wrote this idea since it seemed semi-popular. Hope you enjoy :)
»»————- ★ ————-««
"Will you finally tell me who they are?"
"This again, Romanoff?"
"Just a first name?"
Fury sighs to make his vexation clear, but that's not enough to dissuade Natasha; she remains determined as ever in her mission and smirks boldly in the face of her exasperated boss.
"Just an initial will get me off your back," the spy continues through his silence.
Fury scoffs and Natasha knows she needs a different approach.
"If it's you, you can just say, Sir."
"Me? You must be losing your touch if you think I have the time for that, Romanoff. Should Hill be taking your next mission?"
Natasha stops and stares with faux hurt while Fury continues on, grinning to his own amusement. He wasn't going to let her keep the upper hand for long.
"If you want to know, ask them yourself!" Fury calls over his shoulder, "Mission debrief. C12-2. 10 minutes. They won't tell you though; above your clearance!"
Natasha groans. As much as she hadn't expected a substantial answer from Fury – she'd been asking him the same question for years – she thought she might be getting somewhere, but no matter which trick she tries, Fury doesn't budge.
On top of that, he'd reminded her that it wasn't home time yet, her mission isn't over until she's briefed her mysterious handler. So Natasha sighs and makes her way to the conference room, still wondering why only her handler chose to shroud themself in mystery. All the other agents meet theirs directly, while Natasha sits in a room alone, waiting for a shadowy silhouette to call in.
The first few years went by without a comment – it wasn't her place to ask – but as she rose the ranks and found her role, her handler, too, remained just above her clearance. Even now, as one of the highest ranking agents, her handler was higher still. Curiosity built like a dripping tap; manageable and menial to start, only to provoke greater displeasure the longer it went on.
"Hi Agent!" the disembodied voice crackles through the speakers. That's the other thing driving Natasha towards irritation, her handler's tone. It's nothing like Fury's commanding orations. No, her handler speaks with an eagerness and informality reminiscent of a junior agent meeting their hero, rather than the commanding officer that they are, and have been, since Natasha first joined SHIELD almost a decade ago.
"Officer." Natasha replies. She had never been told her handler's surname, or even a title she could use to address them. Any attempts she made to learn had been properly shut down, forcing her to stick with the appellation of Case Officer.
"Always so formal," her handler laughs. "As far as I'm aware, the mission was successful, so what's got you so grumpy today?" they continue, noticing an uncharacteristic clarity to Natasha's mood that day.
"If you told me your name, I wouldn't have to be so formal, would I?" the spy snaps back. "And I'm not grumpy."
"Natasha, we've worked together for nearly 10 years now. I know when you're grumpy, and I can throw in an educated guess that my identity is the cause?"
"I've spent my life working in secret," Natasha shrugs, then pauses in search of the right words. "I'm well accustomed to dubious legalities and taking orders from the shadows. I'm also well aware that I would be a risk to security from the moment I joined until I gained the trust of this organisation, so I understood your secrecy."
Natasha stops again, noticing the silhouette begin to fidget; whether out of boredom or discomfort, the assassin can tell the time is right to make her final argument.
"We've worked together on hundreds of missions over this past decade, enough for you to know every detail of my life and mind, while I still know nothing about you. Have you thought about how that might hurt, officer? because it does! to believe I still haven't gained your trust after all this time. That hurts."
The room stills to a silence as fragile as Natasha felt. Her handler's reaction would dictate the situation; any information given could redefine the relationship between the two spies, just as another brush off would leave Natasha spiralling further into this curiosity.
A sigh finally echoes through the speakers; its long pause circling the sole inhabitant of the room. "It's above your clearance," the voice admits. Natasha slumps; she should have known better. "But-" The speed at which Natasha perks up draws out a small chuckle from her handler, before they continue with an audible smile, "I'll talk to Fury. See what I can reveal."
Natasha settles in her seat, unable to keep the broad smile from her face. "I do trust you, Romanoff, I hope you know that… I just don't think I'll be who you expect."
As a trained spy, Natasha wouldn't let that last line slide, immediately thinking of its hidden meaning. But before she can ask further questions, her handler clears their throat. "I think it's time we actually start the mission debrief."
»»————- ★ ————-««
Natasha can't wait for the meeting to end. She understands the need – giving her side of the story, answering questions, sharing the intelligence she'd gained – but it drags on without incident and without any further comments on her handler's identity, so she'd much rather be at home. 
What reason was there for her not to do this from home? Her handler calls in from wherever they are, so realistically, Natasha could also pick up from wherever she is. Ideally at home, after a relaxing shower and a little time with her wife. Natasha supposes that's where the issue may lie: you, her wife, who has been led to believe Natasha is a security guard and nothing more. If you overheard a debrief, not only would SHIELD's confidentiality be compromised, but you might never forgive her lies. Natasha's home office was soundproofed though and, because of that, the assassin would take the risk if it means extra time with you.
Throughout Natasha's homeward journey and all through the mission debrief, you are the only thing to occupy her mind. Her mission finished in late afternoon, so she had planned how she would surprise you and spend the evening together upon her return, but then the debrief cropped up, and by the time her key is in the door, the sun has long since set, leaving her to wonder if you're even still awake.
You are. Just about. Your pyjama clad figure appears in Natasha's sight and you rush down the stairs to meet her by the door.
"You're home!" You beam as you wrap your arms over her shoulders and take her cue for a kiss.
"I am."
"How was your mission?" you tease. You know how seriously she takes each assignment, always doing prep work in her office ahead of the trips; she treated them akin to a secret mission and you never missed your chance to rag her for it. 
One of your favourite methods of teasing is to liken her to James Bond, which only gets more realistic when you catch her mouthing along to the movie lines.
"Top secret. Can't tell you," your wife jokes back, her smile threatening to burst off her face.
"No injuries this time?"
"None at all."
"Good girl." She preens. "Have you had dinner?"
"Not yet, I came home as soon as I was done. Couldn't wait to see you."
"Sweet talker," you laugh and kiss her again, then take her by the hand, "I put some leftovers in the fridge, you clean up, then you can eat and share your 'top secret' thoughts."
The evening's plan formed just like that; you reheat the noodle dish while Natasha takes a shower, before the two of you come back together to sit at the dinner table.
"So, how was it really?" you ask her.
"The job itself was alright, no problem." Natasha replies, but by the way she's stabbing the noodles with her fork, you can tell something else is coming. "But my bosses…they just won't tell me all the information. Say it's 'above my clearance'."
"The cheek of them."
"Don't mock me."
"I'm not, I'm not! I promise, love," you say, though you can't hide your barely contained laughter thanks to the prominent pout on your wife's face. You school your face back into an expression of neutrality before you talk again, "that sounds annoying. Do you need this information?"
"No," she sighs, "it's just a matter of trust."
"Well, you must be working with idiots for them not to trust you after all this time."
"Mm, you reckon I should tell that to them?"
"You definitely should."
The smile comes back to Natasha's face as she shakes her head, "you're going to get me fired, sweetheart."
"You're too good for them to do that. Just keep it up, you're going to be leading them one day, I'm sure of it. Then all the secrets are yours."
»»————- ★ ————-««
Another week, another mission. And with another mission comes another mission debrief. Natasha asked for her handler's identity three weeks ago and still knows nothing more. With how poorly her recent mission went, she doesn't even feel like asking the question again.
"What went wrong, Romanoff?" that same anonymous figure asks her, and Natasha can only groan: what didn't go wrong?
"We were ambushed to start with; whoever gave us the heads up got their information wrong, or someone sold us out. Either way, the plan went to shit the moment we arrived and the team went to shit by throwing mole accusations around. Splitting up only made it worse; nobody trusted their teammates to do their parts and it resulted in a mad scramble. My orders were ignored, but my team members were injured and I take full responsibility."
"That won't be necessary, Agent," the voice hums, "as leader, the responsibility falls on you, yes, but it is each agent's responsibility to trust in you and follow your plan, and you will not be faulted for working with idiots who don't trust you."
Natasha starts to defend her team, before the familiarity of the phrase has her searching through her mind for a recollection. What she does remember is a long shot, but she'll lose nothing by asking.
"Do you have a wife, Officer?"
"I do," they reply.
"Is she a redhead?"
"She is."
"Works for SHIELD?"
"Why, it's almost like you know her," the handler goades. If one had an illustrated list of all of SHIELD's employees, they would know that the short game of 'guess who' still left a couple dozen potential employees in the running, but the teasing and testing tone is the final clue Natasha needs to make her assumption.
"Y/N/N?"
"Hey love," you reply, with as much adoration as you can muster, glad to finally be rid of the voice modulator while you talked to your wife.
In front of Natasha, the screen flickers before the silhouette that had become so familiar to her is replaced by another familiar sight in another familiar location: the smiling face of her wife…in her office.
Natasha's face falls at once, striking you with panic that this wouldn't be the gleeful revelation that you'd expected; that is, until the assassin speaks again. "Is that my desk?"
"It's your whole office, my love. I'm not taking these calls from our bedroom."
"Is that why it's sound proofed?"
"I gave the approval for that, if you remember, and it's certainly not because you're taking SHIELD calls at home; you haven't even had one while we've lived together!"
"That's because you organise it straight after the mission so I don't have time to go home!"
"Because that's where I am! you'd be suspicious otherwise."
Natasha falls silent for a moment. You know her well enough to leave her to her thoughts, only twiddling your thumbs as you watch her through the screen.
"So can I do debriefs at home now?"
"I don't see why not," you shrug, "remember I still have to take notes though, so I get the desk and no cuddling until after."
"No chance of that."
"Come back now, Romanoff, and we can put it to the test," you challenge.
She accepts. "I'll be there in 30."
"I know."
»»————- ★ ————-««
Tagging: @supercorpdanbeau (since you mentioned you’d like to read it on the original post!)
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fullsunstrawberry · 5 months
Text
Love Beyond Labels
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synopsis: the misunderstood "rich girl," reveals her academic struggles to a loner with his own challenges. In an unexpected twist, they form a unique friendship—she gets study help, and he gains a true companion.
genre: slice of life, humor, fluff, angst, smut, freaky nerd
warnings**: bullying, swearing, self-hate, mentions of anxiety, jokes of social "suicide", dreamies are kinda mean in this..., no condom mentioned, praising, fingering, marking, lots of boobie touching cause haechan loves them okay, make-up sex, idk probably more lol
word count: 8.9k
a/n: first ever written fanfic....kinda nervous haha
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School is easy, all you have to do is sit there and look pretty. Well, that's what all your classmates thought. They didn't know how difficult school was for you. You never got what was happening in class. Anytime you got an answer wrong, no one batted an eye because who expects the rich pretty girl to get an answer right? But little did they know you would cry in the janitor's room after each time. You just hated feeling so dumb.
"Ugh, I'm not ready for today's test," Jaemin huffed, plopping down beside you.
"Wait, there's a test?" you sighed, already predicting the outcome.
Mr. Moon whispered a half-hearted "good luck" as he handed you the test, before moving on and finishing handing out everyone else’s tests. He already knew how it was going to go.
You hated how even the teachers knew you were stupid.
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After the test, you already knew you failed it. You were the last one to turn your test in, when Jaemin asked if you wanted to meet up with him, Jeno, Mark, and Chenle for lunch. You nodded telling him you had to stop at the office real quick.
Instead of walking towards the office, you sped walked to the janitor's closet, already feeling the tears threaten to escape. You knew you failed that test. Even though you acted like you didn’t know you had a test, you lied. You’ve been studying for it for a long time. Even canceling plans. But you would never admit it to anyone. You studied your ass off but still failed, that’s even more pathetic than forgetting about it.
You quickly took out the keys and opened the door quickly so no other student would see it. You thank the janitor for being so forgetful that you could easily steal one of his keys. He has a bunch of copies, one missing wouldn’t hurt. Right as you locked the door you sat in the corner, not even bothering to turn the lights on.
you were always an ugly crier, but it was okay cause you bought the most expensive waterproof makeup for these occasions. Only a quick bathroom stop is needed before meeting your friends for lunch.
As you were drying your tears you heard the door jiggle and then open. you quickly hid your face just in case it was someone you knew.
"Y/N?" a voice you didn't recognize spoke, interrupting your quiet moment in the janitor's closet.
Confused, you wiped your face and looked up at the mystery voice. You kind of recognized the thick black glasses boy in front of you. You knew he was in some of your classes but you couldn’t think of his name.
Fearing the worst you cleared your throat before asking “What do you want?”
“Uh, I don't want anything!" the boy replied, swiftly stepping into the room and closing the door. You noticed he had his lunch tray with him. "This might sound pathetic, but I like to eat my lunch here."
confused, you asked him “Why would you do that?”
“Well I don’t really have friends and I don’t want to get picked on” he explained sitting down next to you, not having much of a choice because there wasn’t that much room.
"Oh, I'm sorry for bothering you. I'll just go," you said, preparing to stand up. But before you could, he quickly called out your name, making you look down at him.
"You're not bothering me! You can stay and talk about what's going on. I know we don't talk, but I can listen to you." His hopeful eyes convinced you to sit back down. You quickly wiped away your tears before confiding in him.
“You can’t tell anyone this!“ You put your pinky finger up and put it near him. “promise?”
“I don’t have many people to tell” he let out a small laugh while putting his hands up defensively. “promise!” he took your pinky finger in his
“okay” you nodded “I failed my psychology test today”
you looked at his face and he looked confused “What?” you questioned
“Oh it's just, you always fail your tests. Everyone knows that”
As he said that you felt the tears start to come back. Of course, he wouldn’t get it. Why did you ever think he would get it?
“I didn’t mean it like that, I’m so sorry” he panicked “I shouldn’t have said that!”
you turn away, quickly wiping away your tears again. “no I get it, I’m the dumb girl”
"No, no, no, that's not what I meant. Hey, want to hear something embarrassing about me? I'm only here because of a scholarship. That's why no one wants to be friends with me!" he confessed.
you start to giggle “That’s not embarrassing!”
“It made you laugh! But here is something actually embarrassing, my teacher forgot my name today. Even though I've had her for the whole year.”
Your eyes widen, feeling bad that you forgot his name.
“ahh you don’t know my name either”
you smile “If you tell me your name, I’ll forgive you”
“haechan”
“That's a nice name, haechan” You smiled at the way it rolled off your tongue. 
“thank you, I have a proposition or a proposal”
“I know what proposition means” you teased
he giggled, “I’ll help you study”
your eyes lit up, “really? What can I do for you?”
he avoided your eyes and cleared his throat “Be my friend”
your eyes softened “That’s not hard, I was going to be your friend after this conversation anyways” You pushed his shoulder.
He finally met your eyes and smiled at you. “then you don’t have to do anything, friends help friends”
As the bell faintly rang, you pulled out your phone. "Here, give me your number so we can talk."
he paused for a second before taking your phone
standing up and thanking him before you quickly left to go touch up your makeup in the bathroom. Reminding yourself you would have to tell Jaemin you were sorry for ditching him and the guys.
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You walked into your next class as the late bell rang. 
“there you are! Jaemin told me you ditched us” Mark laughed. 
“I didn't mean to ditch you guys, just got carried away.” 
“carried away, with what?” 
“I was working on my psychology essay, and I can't believe she makes us write one every week!” you huffed out, setting your bag down before sitting down. 
“Could have just said you were talking to guys instead of lying.” Mark laughed, too interested in whatever was on his phone to notice your face drop. What did your friends think of you? 
“What do you mean?” 
Mark glanced at you before laughing, “You always procrastinate, there is no way you even started it!” 
Instead of arguing you turned to face the front, pulling out your notebook. The essay is due in two days, of course, you started it. There would be no way for you to finish the four pages if you didn't. Turning towards Mark again you huffed out, “Well someone is helping me study.”
Shocked, Mark quickly faced towards you “What? What happened to y/n?” 
You scoffed, “Really? That surprising”
“I am, you never really cared for grades”
“Well I'm sick of failing every test” 
“So who's helping you out?” Mark leaned towards you “Could have just asked me”
“His name is Haechan”
Mark’s eyebrows furrowed “That one kid that eats in the bathroom?”
“He doesn't eat in the bathroom!” You defended 
“Just be careful, he’s a little weird” 
“What do you mean, you don’t even know him” You started to get upset.
“He doesn't really talk to anyone”  He could see how your face scrunched up and you were about to start an argument with him so he shrugged, not really caring “Why didn't you ask me, I'm one of the top students”
You didn't really want to explain what happened so you just blew his question off. Before he could press you for an answer, the teacher walked in. 
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Haechannie🤓🐻: When do you want to start?
Y/N☺️: I have my psychology paper due soon. Could you read it over before I turn it in?
Haechannie🤓🐻: Yeah meet me at the public library after school 
Y/N☺️: Thanks!
Haechannie🤓🐻: No problem :)
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Jaemin and Jeno are probably thinking you're going crazy when you tell them you didn't need a ride after school. But you didn't want them to drop you off at the library and question you the same way Mark did in class. So you just said you were meeting up with a girlfriend of yours who wanted to walk to the park. At the mention of a girl, they didn’t question anything. 
Now that's how you ended up looking around the library for Haechan. He wasn't on the first or second floor, so you started making your way up to the third floor. Questioning why he even would go all the way up there, no one liked the third floor. As you looked around you spotted Haechan sitting at a table in the corner. 
As he heard you coming, he looked up and smiled. “Took you long enough!”
“Who even uses the third floor of the library, all the books up here are just textbooks.” You huffed out, setting your bag down and taking out everything you needed. 
“That’s the whole point! It’s quiet up here” 
You can admit, that he has a point! Maybe you will actually start using the third floor more. As if you ever go to the public library without your friends dragging you there. Liking your room for studying a lot more because there are no judging eyes. 
“Okay, let’s get started! Let me see what you have already” Haechan smiled at you. 
You pulled out your notebook and quickly found the page you started to write on before handing it to Haechan. As you handed it to him, your fingers brushed, which made Haechan pull away quickly. 
You watched as his eyes read through everything you wrote. Anxiety started to fill you up. What if it was really bad and he thinks you're even more of an idiot than before? Ugh, he’s a nice guy, he wouldn't think like that. But you don’t really know him— Before your inner monologue continues Haechan put down your notebook. Shock showed in his eyes. 
“Wow, that was really good! The way you described Sensation and Perception was easy to understand. How do you usually fail with papers like this?”
Shocked that he actually liked your paper it took you a couple of seconds to register his question. “I usually get good grades on my papers and in-class work, but tests always seem to get to me.” 
“mmm, I understand,” Haechan hummed. “A lot of people have test anxiety, I have some tips I can give you if you want” 
Your eyes lit up as you nodded, eager to hear what he had to say. 
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“It’s getting quite late, maybe we should start wrapping this up?” Haechan yawned. 
You quickly looked at the time, not believing him that it was so late. You gasped, shocked at how quickly time passed with Haechan. “Oh, I better get going, before my mom starts to ask questions.” 
“Yeah, I have to get going too. It was nice hanging out with you.” Haechan quickly gathered up all his things before moving to leave. 
“Wait!” 
Haechan paused looking at you confused. 
“What are you doing tomorrow after class?” 
“Nothing, until I have to go in for work” Haechan sighed “I don’t want to study again tomorrow”
A little taken aback by the change in his tone, you quickly cleared things up “That’s not what I was going to ask you! I wanted to know if you wanted to hang out, like at the mall or something”
you couldn't quite read the emotion on Haechan’s face. Was he shocked? Happy? Confused? Maybe a little bit of each. 
“Oh um yeah, we can hang out.” 
“Good, I’ll text you the details” You smiled before turning away and leaving him to stand there not knowing what was going on in his head. 
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The final bell rang as you rushed out to find Haechan. Earlier promising that you both would take the bus to the mall together. 
Your eyes lit up seeing him standing at the bus stop, calling out a quick “Haechan” to get his attention. Which seemed to work as he found you in the crowd of other students. 
As you finally pushed through all the people to get to Haechan, your face dropped. He wasn't looking at you anymore. “What’s wrong?” 
“You don’t want to be caught hanging out with me, it will ruin your reputation.” He whispered 
Taken aback you laughed, which turned into a heavier laugher. Shocked and confused by your reaction, Haechan turned towards you, watching you laugh like you were crazy. “I’m not joking! Hanging out with me in public is literally social suicide”
You took a couple of deep breaths before answering him “Haechan, this isn't some teen drama! Who even cares about that” 
Haechan looked embarrassed by this and started to fiddle with his fingers. You saw the bus starting to pull up so you took hold of his hand. Stopping him from fiddling with them and making sure you didn't lose him to the crowd of people waiting for the bus. 
If you were paying more attention, you would have seen how bright his cheeks turned. Before quickly snapping out of it. 
As you got onto the bus, you noticed how full it was. Only noticed one seat in the back. quickly you pulled him towards the back and offered him the seat. 
Shaking his head, he told you to sit down. But you insisted that you were okay with standing. Looking around you noticed the other people starting to get annoyed, even hearing an older lady saying she hates teenage couples. 
Before he could protest, you pushed him down onto the seat and sat on his knee. “Are you happy now? It’s a win-win situation, we both get to sit now” You smiled. 
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The whole ride there was silent. Maybe the stunt you pulled on the bus was a little too much for him to handle. 
But you didn't let that stop you from grabbing his hand when the bus finally arrived at the mall. Excitedly telling Haechan about all your favorite stores and sales that are going on right now. 
He didn't seem to care when you kept dragging him to different clothing and makeup stores. It wasn't until you noticed how uncomfortable he was did you realized how rude you were being. 
“Oh shit sorry, where do you want to go next?”
 Taken back by this Haechan quickly tried to brush it off “No it’s okay, where do you want to go next?” Not letting him dodge the question you push him for an answer. “No, come on, let's go somewhere you like next!”
“Uh I like Gamestop” 
“Then we are off to Gamestop, I know where it is because it’s next to my favorite shoe store!” 
Haechan’s eyes lit up when he saw the new Lord of the Fallen had been released. “Cool! I’ve been waiting for this to come out” But as quickly as he picked it up he put it down. 
“You're not going to get it?” You questioned
“Oh no, it’s too much money” He turned to look at other things, leaving you the opportunity to grab and pay for the game without him knowing. 
Finding him in the back, you asked if he was finished looking around. Which earned you a nod. As you stepped out of the store, you held up the bag. “What did you get?” Haechan asked, confused. 
“It’s for you” You giggled handing him the bag. 
He hesitated before looking in the bag and gasping “Y/n, this is $80!” 
“That’s nothing! I love buying my friends things that I know they will like” You smiled, hooking your arm with his. “Now I'm hungry, let's go eat.” 
The food court wasn't your first choice, but haechan insisted. Arguing that he knew you were going to try to pay for his food if you went to some fancy restaurant. Which he is right, you would have. But you settled for paying for his Taco Bell instead. 
“Let's go near the carousel I love the view and plus not a lot of people sit over there”
Haechan nodded, letting you show the way. 
Everything was going very smooth. You wanted to do this again and again. But as you were in your own world you heard voices call out “Hyuck”. Haechan's eyes widened and looked around. 
Two boys, one tall and one short, sat down near you guys. 
“Long time no see, we missed you!” The taller one said either not knowing or not caring about your presence. 
The shorter one cleared his throat before asking Haechan “So are you going to introduce us” 
Haechan laughed nervously before looking at you, pointing to the shorter one “This is Huang Renjun” and then pointing to the taller one who seem to now noticed you were there “And this is Park Jisung” 
Before Haechan could speak you smiled “I'm F/N L/N!” 
Haechan winced at your mentioning your last name. You looked at the other guys and their faces dropped. Confused, you asked “what's wrong?” 
Haechan quickly cleared his throat and explained “It’s nothing! We used to know someone with that last name and so they're just surprised.” 
The two boys looked confused before nodding “Sorry, just bad memories” Renjun forced a smile before getting up and announcing “Oh we’re gonna be late for our movie, let’s go Jisung” 
They left before you could even get in another word. Noticing your shock, Haechan shakes his head “Those are my friends from my childhood, we haven't talked in a while because we go to different schools now.” 
Not wanting to push you just hummed.
Something felt weird but you didn't want to bring it up. Today has been one of your favorites and you didn't want to sour the mood by letting Haechan know his friends acted a bit rude. 
So the whole time you didn't bring it up, instead going back to your cheery self. After a few more stores, you both decided that was enough for today and Haechan really needed to get home so he could get enough sleep before having to go to his part-time job. 
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Soon days, weeks, and months flew by. Hanging out with Haechan really made things go by so quickly. You liked his company. So did your teachers, complimenting you on passing all your tests. One even accused you of cheating, but Haechan stepped in and confessed he had been helping you study.
Even your parents seemed to notice the change in your mood. Your mother loves getting her cheerful daughter back. The only people who seemed to hate the “new and improved y/n” were your best friends. It started with Jaemin accusing you of sleeping with Mr. Moon because he swore there’s no way you could have gotten scored higher on your test then him. Obviously, you were pissed that he could even suggest something like that.
So you ended up admitting to your not-so-secret tutoring sessions to your friends one day at lunch.
“So that's where you've been during lunch?” Chenle questioned. 
“Yes, we’ve been eating in the library together” 
“So you’ve been ditching us for that nerd this whole time!” Jeno’s voice raised, causing some of the other students in the cafeteria to look at your table. 
“Don’t call him a nerd!” 
“But he is one!” Jeno threw his hands up in the air. 
“Just because he gets good grades? Then why don’t you call Mark or Jaemin a nerd?”
“Y/N Come on, why are you defending him? He’s just some loser who eats in the bathroom when you're not at school” Chenle laughed, trying to get everyone to calm down. 
Taken back by how rude your best friends were, you looked around and made eye contact with Haechan. 
He was supposed to meet your friends today. He was really excited after you hyped all of them up. But as he was walking to your table, you could tell that he heard everything. 
You saw how his eyes were starting to water. 
“Maybe he is a nerd but he is way hotter than all of you! Bet he can actually get me to cum unlike any of you” You smirked knowing this would get on their nerves. Hitting it where it hurt, their egos. 
You heard Jaemin scuff, “Yeah right, we all know your type! You wouldn't even kiss him” 
Taking the challenge, you looked around and spotted Haechan again. But this time his face was red and his eyes were wide. You smirked, “wanna bet?” 
The tension in the cafeteria was thick after your bold statement, and all eyes seemed to be on the unfolding drama. Your best friends wore expressions of disbelief mixed with irritation. You made your way over to Haechan.
Haechan's eyes showed surprise, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You could feel the weight of the challenge in the air as you took a hold of his sweater collar, the fabric warm beneath your fingers. The cafeteria buzzed with hushed whispers and curious glances, but your focus was solely on him.
Pulling him down gently, your lips hovered near Haechan's ear, and you breathed out a teasing question. "Can I?" The words were soft, carrying a hint of playfulness.
In response, Haechan nodded fervently, his eyes wide with anticipation. "Please," he whispered back, his voice barely audible.
With a mischievous smirk, you seized the moment, closing the distance between your lips and Haechan lips. Time seemed to slow as the cafeteria fell into a stunned silence, and then erupted into a mix of gasps, whispers, and scattered applause. The unexpected turn of events had caught everyone off guard, including your best friends, who now wore expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.
Breaking the kiss, you stepped back. You saw how Haechan went to lean back in again. Quickly placing a short kiss to his lips you whispered “everyone watching us” His eyes widened and looked around the cafeteria. Making you giggle and whisper a hushed “Cute”
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After your little stunt in the cafeteria, everyone’s been asking you who that guy was and if you two are dating. You already knew poor Haechan was getting the same questions. 
Y/N😊❤️: People keep asking me if you’re a good kisser
Haechannie🤓🐻: Well am I?
Y/N😊❤️: Absolutely
Y/N😊❤️: What are you doing after school?
Haechannie🤓🐻: Working and then going home
Y/N😊❤️: When do you get off? Want to hang out with you
Haechannie🤓🐻: 9 pm, at the convenience store on the other side of town
Haechannie🤓🐻: we can hang out only if you promise to kiss me again
Y/N😊❤️: we’ll see ;)
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The convenience store was a far walk from your house so you asked your friend Yuna to drive you. But that didn’t stop your parents from scolding you for going out so late. All you had to say was that you were staying over at Yuna’s house. Yuna is your mom's best friend's daughter. She had no problem with this because last summer you had to do the same thing for her. 
There was only a few people at the convenience store. You saw Haechan slumped over at the counter scrolling through his phone. “Aren’t you supposed to be working”
Haechan jumped up from his sitting position, ready to be scolded by his manager. But when his eyes landed on you he shook his head “Ah you scared me! I still have 10 minutes until closing” 
“I wanted to get here early, I heard there is a cute cashier boy here” you smirked
You can already see Haechan’s face start to become a light shade of red. 
“Stop flirting with me, I'm working!” 
Before you could say a comeback, an older guy put down his stuff on the register. 
“She’s just trying to get free stuff” The random guy scoffed
Taken aback you scoff, tilting your head “What do you mean by that?”
“You’re too pretty for him”
You looked at Haechan and saw his head lower. 
Looking back at the guy you laugh “Nerdy guys are the freakiest” you winked
Haechan’s eyes widened, not being able to make eye contact with anyone. 
“All girls are the same” The guy harshly stated before throwing ten dollars on the counter and leaving. 
“How do you know I’m freaky?” Haechan busted out laughing. 
“I don’t but guys hate when their masculinity is threatened” You shrug.
“So what do you want to do after I close” 
“I don’t know, I told my parents I was staying over with a friend tonight. So I’m all yours”
“All mine? I like the sound of that” Haechan smirked leaning in “I live alone”
You gasp “How do you live alone?” 
“It’s a small place, I don’t have a relationship with my parents anymore” Haechan grabbed the keys to close the shop. “It’s not too far from here, only a five-minute walk” 
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Entering Haechan's apartment, the reality of his living space matched his earlier description. It kind of reminded you of a college dorm. Only a small living area with his bed and a tiny hallway that leads to his bathroom. 
As you took in the surroundings, Haechan couldn't help but laugh at your reaction. "I told you it was small," he remarked, his eyes glinting with amusement. "It's not the fanciest part of town, but it's affordable."
"It's nice!" you assured him, a genuine smile gracing your face.
Haechan, skeptical, teased, "You don't have to lie to me."
Your laughter filled the room. "I'm not lying! I was expecting much worse for a guy living alone." Your lighthearted comment elicited a chuckle from Haechan, getting rid of any lingering tension.
Looking around the compact space, you ask, "So, what do you want to do?"
"I was promised a kiss," Haechan said with a mischievous smirk.
Your laughter continued, but before you could respond, you felt his hand gently cup your face, pulling you into a kiss. This wasn't like the previous one in the cafeteria; it was more intense, and filled with passion.
As the kiss deepened, Haechan guided you backward until the back of your knees met his bed, causing you to gently fall onto it. Yet, he didn't break the kiss, instead, he adjusted his position to hover over you. Placing his knee between your legs, he elicited a soft moan from you. The sound only fueled Haechan's desire, and he broke the kiss momentarily, his gaze locking onto yours.
"You sound so beautiful," he murmured, his eyes fulled with desire. His fingers delicately traced the curve of your jawline, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations.
The air was charged with a blend of desire and anticipation as Haechan, deepening the kiss and found a comfortable position on top of you.
His hands, warm and assertive, traced subtle patterns along your sides, sending shivers down your spine. The small apartment seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you entangled in the intoxicating rhythm of the kiss.
As the kiss continued to deepen, Haechan's movements became more deliberate. He pressed himself against you, and the warmth of his body radiated through the layers of clothing, intensifying the sensations.
The noisy world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the echo of shared breaths and the subtle noise of hearts beating together.
Breaking away from the kiss, Haechan's eyes held an unspoken question, seeking affirmation in the depths of your gaze. Without uttering a word, you nodded, granting permission.
Haechan's lips traced a path from your mouth, leaving a trail of lingering kisses along your jawline and down your neck. Each touch sent shivers through your body, awakening a heightened awareness of the closeness between you.
As Haechan's fingers delicately traced patterns on your skin, he whispered “God I can’t get enough of you”. 
“I need you inside of me right now” You moaned as he started to take your shirt off.
Your words seemed to ignite something in Haechan, his eyes darkening with desire. He gently removed your shirt, his touch making your skin tingle.
You felt Haechan’s warm breath against your skin as he buried his face in your breasts. The sensation of his lips approaching your skin caused you to gasp, and the sound fueled his desire. As his lips made contact with your nipple, you felt a wave of pleasure run through you.
“God, Haechan”
His lips found yours once again. The pleasure of his lips on yours left you intoxicated.The feeling of the soft sheets against your bare skin and the warmth of Haechan’s body made you feel safe, yet vulnerable. Your heart skipped a beat as you felt his lips take your nipple in his mouth yet again, and the pleasure and excitement was overwhelming. The intensity of the sensations had left you without words, and you felt yourself wanting to scream with pleasure.
“G-God”
The moan that escaped from your lips seemed to ignite something in Haechan, and he moved his mouth to your other breast, leaving a trail of hot kisses. Each one caused you to gasp with pleasure and your hands explored the his back from under his shirt. The pleasure and excitement was too much, and you needed him inside you, but he kept teasing you in different ways.
When he finally moved to kiss you again, his hands gently moved down your body to rest on your waist. He seemed to be asking if it was okay to continue, and you nodded, silent. His hands moved to take off your pants, and you felt your heart start to race. 
His touch was gentle and soft, and his lips were warm against your skin, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps. You could feel the bulge in his pants pressing against you. The feeling of his skin against yours was intoxicating. As his hands kept tracing patterns across your skin. As his lips reached your thighs, you moaned with pleasure, begging for more
"Please..." you moaned, "I need you inside me."
Haechan looked up and gave you a mischievous grin, and his body tensed for a moment before he moved to undress himself. His movements left you breathless, and you stared at him as he removed his pants. The light of the room glinted off of his skin, and you felt your body start to quiver with anticipation.
His eyes seemed to penetrate you as he looked at you, as if he could see things you didn't want anyone to know about. There was a moment of silence as the two of you stared at each other, before he moved over you and hovered on top of you. The moment was perfect, the way his body molded to yours.
His lips found yours once again, and the kiss started off soft but eventually deepened. The intensity of the moment was something you had never experienced before, and your body felt on fire as his hands explored your skin. As his fingers traced patterns on your skin, you felt more and more aroused, and you moaned with pleasure as his fingers moved down across your sensitive skin to your underwear.
As you felt his fingers graze across your most sensitive parts, you gasped with pleasure, and Haechan smiled
“you’re hands please, i just need something inside of me” you begged.
Haechan smirked as he continued to tease you over your underwear. “then we have to get rid of these”
He slowly removed them before stuffing them into his nightstand.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as Haechan's fingers continued to tease you over your underwear. Your body throbbed with need, and you couldn't help but beg for more. The anticipation was driving you wild, and you craved the touch of his hands inside of you.
"Please, Haechan," you whimpered, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside me."
Haechan's smirk widened, his eyes darkening with desire. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, reveling in every moment of your vulnerability. Without a word, he slowly removed your underwear and discarded it into the nightstand.
The cool air caressed your exposed flesh, making you shudder in anticipation. Haechan positioned himself between your thighs, his gaze intense and hungry. You could feel the heat radiating off his body as he hovered over you, his breath mingling with yours.
His lips crashed onto yours once again, this time with an even fiercer hunger. The kiss was bruising, and passionate, as if he wanted to consume every ounce of your being. His hands roamed your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Every touch sent electric shocks through you, heightening your desire.
But Haechan was not one to rush. He knew the power of anticipation. His fingers danced along the curves of your thighs. You squirmed beneath his touch, unable to suppress the moans that escaped your lips.
"Patience," he murmured against your skin, his voice laced with a raw sensuality that made your heart race. "I want to savor every moment."
His words only fueled the fire within you, igniting a primal need that consumed your thoughts. You could no longer wait, your body aching and yearning for release. With desperate boldness, you reached for him and pulled him closer. Haechan's eyes gleamed with a mixture of surprise and desire as you guided his hand to where you needed him most.
Without hesitation, his fingers slipped between your slick folds, finding your throbbing core. His touch was electrifying, sending waves of ecstasy through your body. You arched your back, giving him better access as he explored every inch of you, driving you to the edge.
As his fingers moved in delicious circles, your moans filled the room, mingling with the sound of his breathless whispers in your ear. It was as if time had stopped, leaving only the two of you.
Haechan's lips found yours once again, muffling the cry that escaped from deep within you as he brushed against your most sensitive spot. Your body shook with pleasure.
Every stroke sent shockwaves coursing through your body, building the pleasure to an unbearable peak. Your hips instinctively rose to meet his ministrations, wanting to feel even closer to him. The room seemed to spin as you felt your orgasm start to wash over you.
Haechan's fingers quickened their pace, pushing you further. With a sudden burst of overwhelming pleasure, your climax finally crashed over you. Your body shuddered beneath Haechan's touch as waves of intense bliss radiated from your core. It was an explosion of ecstasy that left.
As you finally started to get all your senses back you quickly reached out to Haechan. "Let me make you feel good too"
Haechan's cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he chuckled nervously, avoiding your gaze. "I-I get pleasure just from giving you pleasure," he stuttered.
The corners of your lips turned up in a sly smile as you teasingly asked, "Did you cum in your pants?"
In response, Haechan groaned and buried his face on your neck. "You just sounded so beautiful, I couldn't resist," he admitted shamefully.
You couldn't help but feel a mix of desire and amusement at his confession. Pulling away from him, you leaned into captured his lips with yours. "That's incredibly hot," you muttered against his mouth before breaking into a giggle.
"Alright," you said with a mischievous glint in your eye, "let's get cleaned up...and maybe we can find a way to get out of those pants too."
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In the morning, you felt the warmth of hands around your body. With a content smile, you turned around to find Haechan already awake, looking at you. "Good morning, beautiful."
"How long have you been awake?" you inquired.
"Not too long, I didn't want to wake you up" he replied.
Leaning in to plant a morning kiss on Haechan's lips, you were halted midway. "I messed up," he confessed.
Shocked, you asked, "What do you mean?"
"I slept with my only friend," he admitted.
A chuckle escaped you. "Well, if you play your cards right, you might end up with a girlfriend instead."
He chuckled at your response, pulling you in for another kiss
As the soft morning light streamed through the curtains, the intimacy between you and Haechan deepened. The laughter from the lighthearted exchange lingered as he pressed his lips against yours.
Breaking the kiss, Haechan looked into your eyes with a mix of affection and sincerity. "I'm serious, though. I don't want this to change things between us."
You traced your fingers gently along his cheek, reassuringly. "Haechan, it doesn't change anything. We both have our pasts, and what matters is what we have now."
A grateful smile played on his lips as he held you close, appreciating the comfort of the moment. "You're amazing, you know that?"
The tenderness in his words made your heart flutter. "You're not too bad yourself," you teased, your fingers intertwining with his.
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Your mother has noticed a change in your demeanor, catching glimpses of smiles and laughter while you were on your phone. Initially, you tried to dismiss it, claiming it was just conversations with friends, but the façade crumbled when your mother overheard you on a Facetime call, and she didn't recognize the voice. Peeking into your room she also didn’t notice the face on the screen.
Now, you found yourself anxiously anticipating how your parents would react to meeting Haechan for the first time. Your mother insisted on the introduction, pointing out that you had never appeared as happy with your previous partners. Which you had to give it to her, it was true. 
While you were confident your mother would adore Haechan, your concern was with your father. He was often distant, engrossed in his role as the owner of a major technology company. His strict views on your relationships were rooted in a desire to maintain a family business, yet he doubted your ability to contribute to it.
Hoping your father would be too occupied to attend dinner wasn't far-fetched, he frequently skipped family gatherings. However, your mother's pleas for him to take a rare evening off for his "precious" daughter won him over.
When you first brought it up with Haechan he was terrified. Always saying he was too busy to meet them.
But you finally caught him. He was complaining that he hasn't seen you in some time and that he misses you. So you asked if he was free later. Implying something sexual so he would change his plans if he needed to. When he took the bait and said he would be free all weekend, you told him to get ready to meet your parents. 
As the doorbell rang, you rushed to answer it before anyone else could. "You look so handsome," you cooed, admiring Haechan in a suit that, while not perfectly fitted, he still made it look good.
Haechan, in turn, was taken aback by your appearance. Clad in a baby pink puffy spring dress with pearl accessories, you radiated elegance. The elaborate outfit was your response to your father's decision to turn a family dinner into a business-oriented event.
Warned in advance, Haechan contemplated rescheduling, but your disappointment look and tears swayed him. 
"I can't do this," he admitted.
"Yes, you can. It's okay," you reassured him, leading him toward the dining room.
As the evening unfolded, Haechan appeared more nervous than usual. Sensing his discomfort, you offered solace by whispering in his ear, "We can go to my room after we finish dinner." This seemed to ease his tension, evident in the subtle relaxation of his shoulders.
Upon entering the dining room, you wore a big smile, catching your mother's approving gaze. "Ah, this must be Haechan! I've heard great things about you," she greeted warmly.
"I've heard a lot about you too, Ms. [Last Name]," Haechan replied.
The initial interactions went smoothly. Haechan answered a few questions from your mother, and the room dissolved into various conversations. However, your father remained engrossed in discussions with his employees, seemingly oblivious to Haechan's presence.
Sensing Haechan's ongoing nervousness, you discreetly held his hand under the table. "You're doing amazing, we can sneak out soon."
As if on cue, your father redirected his attention to Haechan, acknowledging his presence. "How rude of me! I haven't even spoken to my daughter's new boyfriend," he announced. "So, what is it your parents do for a living?"
Haechan hesitated before revealing, "Well, they don't do much anymore. I work at a convenience store to pay for my apartment."
Your father raised an eyebrow. "Already working for yourself, impressive. Do you do anything else in your free time?"
Releasing the breath of air you were holding in, you smile. This was a small victory, your father rarely asked the guys you brought over questions. Not even caring for your friends. Remembering the time Jeno once threw up in your bathroom from how your father kept ignoring him. 
"My father taught me how to code when I was younger," Haechan disclosed.
"That's impressive," your father acknowledged, swirling his wine before taking a sip. "What's your surname? You look familiar."
Haechan gulped before confessing, "Lee."
A collective widening of eyes among your father's employees followed, and your father smirked. "I knew you looked familiar, Lee Donghyuck."
Confusion furrowed your eyebrows. You expected Haechan to correct your father, but instead, he flinched and looked at you.
"I'm guessing you lied to my daughter?" your father quipped. "What was the name you came up with again? Haechan."
Tears welled up in your eyes, and to salvage any remaining dignity, you stood up and hurriedly left the room.
Your mother exchanged a glance with Haechan before whispering something to him. He excused himself from the table and followed you.
You slammed the door shut, intending to cry alone. However, Haechan entered the room moments later.
"Please let me explain first," Haechan begged, attempting to pull you in an embrace, but you resisted.
"What is there to explain? Have you been lying to me this whole time?"
"No, God, no! Yes, my name is Donghyuck.. Haechan is just a nickname," he clarified. "My dad worked at your father's company, coding for years until he was fired. They wanted someone younger."
He gently held your face in his hands, "At first, I hated you. But when I saw you tearing up and running to the  janitor's closet, it made my heart hurt, so I had to follow you."
"I told you my name was Haechan because that's what I go by in school. I wouldn't have gotten the scholarship if they knew who I was related to. Your father basically runs this town! I had to!"
"I swear I was going to tell you, but then I started developing feelings for you. I couldn't risk it! This is the best thing to ever happen to me, you're the best thing to ever happen to me!"
As you stood there, emotions swirling within you, you listened to Haechan's explanation. His vulnerability and genuine regret were evident in every word.
A mixture of anger, confusion, and empathy danced on the surface of your emotions. "Haechan, why didn't you trust me enough to tell me the truth?" you asked, your voice a blend of hurt and frustration.
his eyes pleading for understanding. "I wanted to, but the fear of losing you, or jeopardizing everything we had, it paralyzed me. I never meant to lie to you. I just didn't know how to tell you."
You took a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts. The truth was a bitter pill to swallow, but his honesty and the vulnerability in his eyes struck a chord. "You should have trusted me, Haechan. Relationships are built on trust, not on secrets and lies."
He nodded, remorse written across his features. "I know, and I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you, and I understand if you can't forgive me."
The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of everything hanging in the air. You finally spoke, "I need time to process this. It's not just about the lie but the fact that you felt you had to hide something from me. Trust is something we'll need to work on."
Haechan nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of regret and determination. "I'll do whatever it takes to make things right, even if it takes time.”
“I love you, and I'll always be honest with you from now on," he promised, enfolding you in a tight embrace.
Your body resisted at first, still in shock of everything that just happened, but you eventually gave in, wrapping your arms around him. The familiar scent of his cologne and the warmth of his embrace made you realize how much you loved him despite the lies. 
You looked him in his eyes, studying his face before slowly letting your body finally connect your lips to his. 
Haechan’s kiss was soft and gentle at first, but it quickly grew in intensity as the passion between the two of you grew. You felt his hands on your waist as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.
Despite the initial shock and hurt, you found yourself unable to resist Haechan’s touch, his lips, the way he made you feel. You knew trust would take time to build, but right now, you couldn't resist the heat between the two of you.
Haechan’s hands moved up to your hair, tangling in the strands as he deepened the kiss even further. “Donghyuck” You moaned softly, unable to control the pleasure that coursed through you.
“I love the way you moan my name” he growled
As the kiss came to an end, you were both left breathless, panting from the intensity of the moment. You looked up into Donghyuck’s eyes, seeing the love and desire there, and you couldn't help but smile. “I love you so much” he whispered
"I love you too,"
Your eyes met his and your lips curved into a smile. "Thank you."
"For what?" he asked
"For loving me enough to tell me the truth," you responded.
“I will never hurt you again”
You stared silently, soaking in his presence, and a moment later, a small smile stretched across your lips. Donghyuck pulled you in for another heated kiss causing you to let out a small moan before pulling away slightly. 
“You promise?” voice still shaky from the kiss.
Donghyuck grinned, his hands moved to your waist. There was a brief moment of discomfort as he lifted you onto your bed, but your objection was quickly silenced once you regained your balance.
You couldn't help but giggle at the boyish grin on Donghyck’s face as he looked at you from between your legs.
“I promise” he spoke as his hands traced the edges of your panties underneath your dress, teasing you and leaving you desperate for more.
A mischievous grin spread across Donghyuck’s face as he slowly began to slide your panties down, revealing more and more of your skin. You bit your lip, enjoying the sensation as he removed the final bit of fabric.
Donghyuck’s hands quickly moved to hook your legs around his waist, and you felt his fingers move towards your wet core. He teased you for a few minutes before moving his fingers up your slit, one finger brushing against your clit.
You moaned softly, biting your lip as you tried to keep yourself from making too much noise. You couldn’t help yourself though, the sensation overwhelming you as he began to circle your clit.
The sensation was so intense you couldn’t help but squirm beneath Donghyuck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses up your clothed stomach. His fingers slowed and he looked up at you. “Shh…” he whispered, lowering his head to your chest, kissing your exposed skin as you tried to regain control of yourself.
For a few moments you could barely breathe, light kisses upon your skin driving you wild. You could feel his cock pressed against your leg, and could tell it was straining against his pants. 
“You are so gorgeous,” Donghyuck spoke softly as he moved up your body. His lips pressed against yours, his fingers teasing your clit as he moved his hand away.
Your lips were breathing heavily against his, your hips bucked as you felt him tease your clit again. You began to breathe hard, hot breaths gusting between your lips and his. "I love you” he repeated as his lips moved to your neck. He bit your neck, his lips sucking just hard enough to leave a mark.
You moaned softly as you moved your hands to his pants, fumbling with the button before pulling them and his underwear down so he could step out of them.
You felt his cock pressed against your skin, and you couldn’t help but reach out for it. You could feel his shaft pulsating against your hand as you stroked it.
Donghyuck let out a small grunt, his hips bucking into your hand as you teased the head of his cock. “goddamn” he moaned as you pulled him closer.
“I want you inside me. You could feel his shaft twitch in your hand as you said the words, your fingers tightening around the shaft as you moved to stand in front of him.
You pulled your dress over your head, tossing it to the floor as you reached behind your back to unclasp your bra. The garment fell to the ground, your breasts exposed to Donghyuck’s hungry gaze.
Donghyuck reached up, taking your breasts in his hands. He gently laid you back on the bed, his hands moving from your breasts to your hips. 
You waited with heavy breaths as he finished stripping down, your eyes eagerly scanning his chest and abdomen. Reaching for his cock again eager for him to be inside you. 
Donghyuck quickly shifted his hips, slowly sliding his cock inside you. You let out a soft moan as he slowly filled you up. He began thrusting slowly, his thrusts growing stronger and deeper.
He moaned loudly as he thrusts inside you, letting you slowly push against him. His thrusts were desperate.
As he felt his climax coming he reached down to grab your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. The connection between you intensified, your bodies moving in perfect sync. It was a dance of pleasure and desire, each movement bringing you closer to that sweet release.
As his thrusts became more urgent, his hips snapped against yours with a hunger that matched your own. The room filled with your moans and the rhythmic sound of skin slapping together. Time seemed to blur as the world around you vanished.
Your nails dug into his back, leaving red trails as he drove deeper into you. Waves of pleasure crashed over you, dragging you deeper into the abyss of ecstasy.
Donghyuck's breath grew ragged against your ear as he moved faster, chasing his climax with fervor. His grip on your hand tightened, his body trembling with anticipation.
You arched your back as you felt yourself approach climax, your hands gripping the sheets as you sought more friction. Donghyuck’s pace quickened, his cock sliding in and out of you as you felt your orgasm approach.
Your body tensed as you came closer and closer. You cried out, moaning his name as he kissed you. “Donghyuck!”
Donghyuck’s thrusts grew more and more erratic. He began to let out a series of moans as he continued to thrust. He groaned loudly, your walls tightening around his cock as he continued to thrust. You could feel his cock twitch as he came, his cum filling you up.
Donghyuck’s cock slid out of you as the two of you came down from your orgasm. You curled up against him, his arms wrapping around you as you kissed him. 
“I love you too.” you whispered, kissing his lips softly. You rested your head against his chest, and for the first time in a long time, you fell asleep without any worries.
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The morning sun peeked through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Donghyuck stirred, his eyes slowly fluttering open. He blinked sleepily and focused on the beautiful sight in front of him--your peaceful face, bathed in gentle morning light.
As he realized your arm was still snugly wrapped around him, a soft smile tugged at the corners of his lips. The night before had been filled with whispers, laughter, and tender kisses shared between you both. And in this quiet moment, as the world outside continued to awaken, Donghyuck felt an overwhelming sense of contentment.
Leaning in closer, he pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. His touch was feather-light, melting away any lingering traces of sleep from your mind. You stirred slightly, a drowsy smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him.
"Mmm, good morning," you murmured, your voice filled with warmth and affection.
"Good morning," Donghyuck replied, his voice low and husky.
His fingers gently traced the contours of your face, his touch so tender it sent shivers down your spine. As you peered into his eyes, you could see the love that radiated from within him. It was in those moments when the world was still and quiet, that you truly understood the depth of his affections. Donghyuck was not one to wear his heart on his sleeve, but in these stolen moments, he bared his soul to you.
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taglist: @yesohhsehun @numberonekeehostan @rjreins @yutaswh0re @haechansbbg @fullsunahceah @sundamariis @sinsgaybutthatsokay @nae-vm @hcheach @snflwrhaerecs4u @jenodreamer @mystverse @lhcread @onlyoursol-ace @enchantingtreedrea @jaeimjaemin @justforme211 @jakejaehyun @nk-3554 @hyunniesvlog @bbyjayb @nodisdino @qwonii-111 @pwarkkjisung @wettestpoussy @bomi-ja
(srry if i forgot you or if it didnt tag you)
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reiderwriter · 6 months
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Dirty Cops
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader
Summary: With a dirty cop killing women in the BDSM community running loose you and Spencer have to devise an equally dirty plan to catch him in the act.
Warnings: Kintober Day 22 - S&M, BDSM themes, public sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, bathroom sex, interrupted sex (both of them are cockblocked by the job).
A/N: I'M BACK! Sorry for the delay. This is the fic that has been beating my ass for about two weeks now. I fear I put too much detail into the case, and now I'm 6k words deep into a part one of a fic that should've been a 3k standalone.... oops! I hope you enjoy~
You sat in your office hands on your forehead as you desperately searched for the solution to your problems. 12 women, 12 homicides that VICAP had just spotted were easily similar. All in the same jurisdiction, and yet no connections made by their police force.
Something was going on in Tampa, and you needed to get to the bottom of it before another person died. 
You supposed it didn't really help that some of the women had died in some pretty unorthodox ways. Strangulation, blunt force trauma, evidence of rope burns, and having been held hostage but not for long. Things your team was familiar with, but local detectives usually couldn't stomach.
As the BAU's brand new liaison officer, you got the job of convincing the local law enforcement to invite you in. They certainly weren't making it easy for you. 
"Listen, I'm telling you there's something here, sir, if you'd just check the case files. We're only trying to help."
"You're trying to stick your nose in my departments business because you think your fancy FBI agents can handle my cases better than me." 
"Sir, with all due respect -" 
"Fine, you think you can come find whoever whacked these street whores you come and do it." You took in a sharp breath and paused, trying to make sure if you were hearing him correctly. 
"What do you mean by whores, Captain? Choose your words very carefully." The warning was a bonus, knowing your voice had already done such a 180 he was probably regretting his previous word choices. As far as you knew none of the victims were wex workers. They mainly had office jobs or were even stay ah hone mom's.
"Each and every one of these women were jezebel's. Cheating, doing dirty things while showing their faces in church. They attended a certain establishment, not a Christian one, if you understand what I'm telling you, Miss." 
"It's Agent, actually, and if you ever leave these details out of a case file ever again, I'll make sure to have your badge pinned up on my wall like a hunting trophy. Are we clear, Captain?" He stuttered out a yes, but you cut him off quickly. 
"My team and I will arrive later today. Expect us for lunch." You said, slamming the receiver down and finally releasing a huff of breath you'd been saying for emergencies. 
A whistle from the door finally draws your attention after a few minutes. 
"Okay, Y/N," JJ clapped, looking impressed. "Who pissed you off?" 
"Just the Captain at the precinct who just very politely invited us to consult on our next case." You threw the file in her direction as she set down the coffee she'd bought you, picking it up to peruse it. "Where's Hotch? I need to tell him we've got to go now before they change their minds." 
"You know you want to say it," she teased as you began walking out of the office to find your elusive boss. 
"Ha. Sure. Wheels up in 30, Jennifer." She raised her coffee in a salute to you as you finally took off, getting ready to go to war against an unhelpful police precinct. 
–X– 
With all the time you don't have, you end up briefing the team on the jet. You have to stand and grab the edge of the table as you try not to pace up and down the aisle. 
"Twelve victims, all women between the ages of 20 to 28. He's crossing race lines, so I don't think they're placeholders." In all honesty, this case had pissed you off. 
Twelve dead women and no one seemed to care until you phoned the department up yourself when VICAP flagged it all with you. Half of the cases had been closed for lack of evidence, and the other half so poorly investigated that you knew it was only a matter of time before they got boxed up and shelved too. 
"The general public in Zephyrhills doesn't even know they have a serial killer. No one is being told to exert caution. There's no local press on this either." 
"It says that these women were all killed, but there's no viable DNA they could pick up?" Morgan asks, looking up at you. 
"That's right, no DNA evidence can be lifted, but spermicide was found on three of the victims." 
"So our unsub was wearing a condom. He came prepared, and we were dealing with a serial rapist who has bridged into murdering his victims." 
"There was no spermicide found on the other nine victims?" Emily looks up at you from her place at the small table. 
"No. Rape test kits weren't run on any of the other victims because, quote: 'it was pretty obvious what had happened.' The precinct waited too long to collect the DNA evidence  and now we don't have enough to locate, let alone prosecute an unsub based on DNA."
The whole team shared in your stressed look then, sending you matching sympathetic glances as they suddenly understood the herculean task you'd taken on trying to convince the locals to invite you in. 
Not noticing the awkward silence that fell on the group, Spencer spoke up quickly from his place, standing beside you. 
"You know, Zephyrhills is only about an hour away from Tampa. Tampa is the number one hook up spot in the US. It's residents boast on average 14 orgasms a month instead of the nationwide average of 12.5." He seemed pleased with the knowledge he'd just let everyone in on, as you looked back on him.
"Right. So our guy is trying to get his rocks off to out gun the rest of the country. Thanks, Spencer." 
"It's relevant. It's says in the casefile here that three of our victims were last spotted on the highway making their way to Tampa, but then their bodies were found dumped in Zephyrhills. What if he's following them?"
"Spencer has a point, but if he's following them, what gets them to turn around? The cars were found abandoned in Zephyrhills, too, none of these women made it to Tampa." Hotch adds, and you make eye contact with him as your next thought comes to you. 
"What could get someone to stop on a highway?" You ask, the question so simple, every single one of them knew the answer before you'd even finished asking.
"A cop." JJ filled in, and you all sat silently as you realised how dangerous this next case could truly be. 
"We're about an hour out from arrival, everyone get some rest for now, I'm going to make a call to the nearest FBI Field Office, see if any of this is on their radar."
You slunked back to your seat at the back of the jet and sat down again, trying to get comfy but ending up just shifting multiple times in your seat.
Spencer joined you, sitting beside you, so close you could feel his eyes on you as your leg began to bounce. He put his hand over it and, with a strong hand, stilled the movement. 
"Y/N, you did a good job connecting these cases." His voice was meek and calming, and you'd generally very much appreciate it if his hand weren't sending your body through some serious loops right then. 
Your leg was on fire where he was touching you, his hand hot even through the fabric of your clothes. But when he pulled the hand away, watching your legs for any further tremors, you felt the need to snatch it back and replace it on your leg, certain that it would sooth the burning once more. 
You snapped yourself out of it quickly. If you were thinking this way about Spencer of all people, then you really needed to get laid. 
"Tampa's population consists of 43% singles, you know. Good statistics for getting laid." You twisted your head around to meet his eyes again.
"Tell me I didn't say that outloud." But his small smile dashed your hopes as you realised you just admitted to feeling incredibly horny because of his hand on your knee. 
"If it's any consolation, I'm definitely the only one who heard it." His hand fell back to your thigh, and you twitched as it did, but you didn't move him. 
"Fucking floridians and their goddamn 14 orgams a month," you muttered under your breath, hoping that he wasn't paying any attention to you now, seeing as how he'd opened up a book to hold in one hand. 
"Lucky if I get even one and Florida man has 14 in him." You continue mumbling as you try to get cosy, closing your eyes and moving your head to find a comfortable position. 
“You definitely said that one out loud.” He laughed, and you threw up your middle finger while letting your head fall back and your body take the rest it needed. 
Without opening your eyes, you decided you needed the last word, a phenomenon you often found occurring in Spencer’s presence. 
“A gentleman would pretend to not have heard that, Spencer.”
“I’m not a gentleman.” Annoyance prickled you at his reply, but you were too tired to say anything more as you caught up with the sleep that had been evading you for weeks. 
–X–
Your landing in Florida comes almost too soon, and Hotch delegates tasks before you’ve even had the chance to properly get your feet beneath you after so long in the sky. 
This case was becoming more of a mindfield with each of the pieces of information you’d received. Upon getting off of his call with the FBI Field Office closest to Zephryhills, Hotch had informed the team about an ongoing investigation into the police captain’s wife, whose pseudo-Christian church group were spewing vitriol about damn near every group you could think of. 
“Religious discrimination, racism, sexism, homophobia and some pretty screwed up views of basically everything else, too.” Penelope had informed the group, pulling up the files that had been sent to her.
“It seems their most recent project is… Oh, how relevant. An adult establishment just opened up on the outskirts of Tampa, right on the highway that connects it to Zephyrhills. And from the boasts of the club owner on social media, it seems he’s telling anyone who listens that he’s not going to get shut down because the police are his main clientele.” 
She sent through links to some of the posts to your iPads, and you angled the thing towards Spencer so he could take in the new information as well. 
“Could we be looking at a religious motive to the murders? You said that the police captain called these women Jezebels. The name is biblical, she was a Queen who worshipped a false god and was defenestrated because of it, but over time, the uncapitalised jezebel, as you know, tended to refer to women with loose morals.”
“The motives could still be religious, but these women were raped. It says in the case files that Mrs. James’s church group is solely comprised of women, mostly the wives of the officers in the police force.” 
Again, everything was leading you back to this stupid police precinct. You grimmaced as you realised that the next few weeks were going to be spent on the edge watching your back. 
“Y/N, Reid, I want you both with me at the precinct when we land. Morgan, JJ, go to the church and interview some of the ladies there, see if you can’t push some buttons. Emily, Rossi, some of the family’s of the victims got in touch with the field office to request inquiries, go anf find out whatever you can about the last known whereabouts of these women.” 
Now bracing yourself, you set your face in a neutral expression and let Spencer hold the door open for you as you walked into the station. 
“Hello, we’re the agents from the FBI. Where can we find your captain?” You ask the receptionist at the chatting to her desk, but just as you finish your inquiry, another officer cuts you off, stepping half in front of you and demanding some files from the woman. 
She stands awkwardly, sending you an apologetic glance as she scurries off to go and complete whatever busy work he’s just given her as you quietly seeth at his back. 
The officer turns around to you and grins, sending you a smile as he walks off, apparently pleased with himself for foiling your attempts to find his boss. 
“Y/N, keep a cool head. The captain’s office seems to be just ahead, I’m going to go and see if he’s there, smooth out some of the issues they seem to be having over here with our presence.” You nod and stay back with Spencer, who takes a quick seat behind you. 
You don’t sit, though, too on edge and pissed off to get comfortable now. 
The officers seem to ignore the two of you, bustling around you with no sense of shame, but you can tell they're watching you, hearing the low murmur of whispers. 
When one of them decides to out their hands on you, though, you've decided you've had enough.
"Sorry, little lady, I need to get through. Important police business." He practically Leeds down at you as his hands grab your waist, meaning to move you aside to her you out of his path. 
You don't give him the chance, grabbing his hands from your hips and twisting them behind his back quickly, shoving him face first into the nearest desk. 
"Fuck, you little bitch. Come and control your partner, man." He struggles in your grasp, signalling to Spencer. 
You grin as Spencer doesn't even look up at him, having pulled out a copy of War and Peace and settling nicely in his seat. You could tell he was on edge though, had seen the slight way his body tensed when you'd first been touched, and knew that if you'd needed it, he'd be there backing you up in a second. 
"Sorry, are you talking to me?" He finally said, still not looking up from his book. 
"Yes, get this bitch off of me." 
"If you ask her nicely, I'm sure Agent Y/N would release you. As for me, I'm certainly not making her do anything she doesn't want to." He grinned as he said it, and you rolled your eyes slightly.
"Maybe if you told some of these other agents here to stop looking at her likes, she's a hunk of meat and greeted her respectfully instead of calling her… little lady, was it? Maybe then she'd be more generous." The man grumbled beneath you again, but before you could actually force his hand, Hotch and the Captain were exiting his office, obviously alerted by the crashing sound you'd made. 
"Reid, Y/N, that's enough." Hotch signalled, and you complied, letting the man go and stepping back to Reid's side. He'd stood now, squaring his shoulders and making use of his quite intimidating height. You must seem tense, though, because the second you settle next to him, he puts a hand on your lower back, and you're surprised at how calm you instantly become. 
Earlier, his touch had been fire and ice, and now it was relaxing you beyond belief. What the hell was wrong with your body recently? 
"Thank you, sir," the officer said, straightening, dusting off his uniform as he levelled a glare at both you and Spencer. "I was beginning to think the FBI was just a bunch of sissy's and menstruators-" 
"Cut the crap." Hotch barked out, and even you were startled by the sound. "Captain, if you or any member of your precinct says anything further about any member of my team, or god forbid puts a hand on them, I'll personally make sure this office is charged with conspiracy to murder for not investigating these deaths and aggravated assault of a federal officer. Do I make myself clear?" 
The man seemed displeased at having his badge threatened for a second time in 24 hours, but nodded, dismissed the other officer, and finally shut up. 
He has the female receptionist from earlier show you to the room you'd be using for your investigation for the next few weeks. 
After  making sure the room is secure, you place a call to Penelope and the others trying to gauge if they'd found any further leads. 
"Some of the family members know exactly where they were going that night. One of them had a husband, said he was going with her, that they drove in separate cars because it was part of the thrill of it all." Emily's voice sounded tense and frustrated, and you could only sympathise silently before jumping in to ask her more questions.
"I thought they said it was an adult establishment? Does that not mean strip club?" You asked, perplexed at why the married couple would be going together. 
"No, from what I can tell, it seems these women were members of the BDSM community, and that place… is somewhere they can practice." 
"So even if we do somehow get another victim, any DNA test could be questionable evidence because they all left to have consensual sex." You sighed out and ran a stressed hand through your hair.
On your call with JJ and Morgan, you got much of the same. 
"Oh, they're angry, alright. About the immigrants and the drug dealers, the homosexuals, and the jezebels. Seems they're working hard to get the club closed not just because it's a house of sin but also because the man who owns it might be an illegal immigrant."
"How quaint and Christian of them."
"Yep, and get this, the club's official title? Women for the Grace of God. There were no men in this group, Y/N. We're not going to find our unsub here." 
Hanging up, you let your head hang, the fatigue of the case really kicking your ass. 
"Spencer, draw the blinds, Y/N, lock the doors." Hotch ordered, and you listened, quickly making sure that no one was even close to the door. Returning to your seat, you noted the tense set of your boss's jaw and decided that whatever he had to say wasn't going to be good. 
"Our unsub is in this precinct, which means we're not safe. But it also puts us in a unique position. They don't know we suspect them yet. We can force the unsubs hand." 
You straightened in your chair, listening closer. 
"You want to bait them out?" Spencer asked from his place beside you. 
"I want you two to bait them out. You already got under a few of the officers' skin, push a few more buttons, and we could get our unsub to slip up." 
"And how are we supposed to do that?" You asked, heart thumping in anticipation. You thought you already knew, but you needed to hear the words from his mouth to be sure. 
"They're going after women in the BDSM lifestyle. Let's convince them that the two of you are also similarly involved." 
He turned and left you with the decision then, leaving you and Spencer in the small room alone. 
Your palms were sweaty, and you refused eye contact for a few minutes before he finally cracked and gave in first.
"It'd work." He whispered, suddenly closer than you remembered. 
"What?" 
"It would work. Whoever this guy is, he's getting off on dominating these women, seeing another man that he deems physically inferior dominating a woman who's already kicked an officers ass… that's enough to get him to crumble, slip up."
"So I'm supposed to just bend over and take it?"
"Bend over, yes, but I usually prefer women to be a bit bratty." 
"What?" You found yourself blinking up at his face, even as the door swung open again, another officer walking into the small room you'd been left in. 
You stepped away from Reid slightly, putting a more appropriate distance between the two of you before the man started talking. 
"Well hello, I heard we had some feds in the office, thought I'd come introduce myself, but I didn't hear we had such a beautiful woman here, too. She a witness?" He directed the question to Spencer, but his leering eyes never left your body, trailing down slowly and disgustingly as you tried not to shudder under his gaze. 
"I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, this is my partner, Agent Y/N. How can we help you?"
"Oh, I'm all set on my medicals, doc. You can't help me. Maybe she can if you let me take her out for a test drive?" Your blood boiled as he said those words, and you were about to send a cutting reply back to the man, when Spencer sat back down in his seat, snaking an arm around your waist to take you with him.
"Sorry, I don't lend out my private property." Stunned, you tried to act naturally about your new position, but his hand on your thigh slashes your brain capacity down by half, the only thought in your head running through Spencer Reid's possible sexual preferences. 
"Oh, I see how it is. She's a slut, just not that kind. Okay, I'll bite, what's this one into? Choking, spanking? Careful, don't go too far or you'll be prime suspect number one for our perp." 
"What are you insinuating, officer?"
"That these sluts you're asking about got in over their heads. Some women like it rough, practically beg for it. Poor guy just did what they were asking." Biting your tongue, you let the man keep digging his own hole, as Spencer kept him talking.
"Actually, contrary to popular opinion, in most sado-masochistic relationships, the submissive partner is the one in control. They have power to stop whatever role play is going on in the scene through safe words and actions, and the dominant role is more of a protective role, requiring a deep level of commitment and care for their sub." As he said it, he turned your face to his, hooking a finger under your chin and then stroking your face as you fell further into his body. 
You almost forgot the other officer was there until you heard his grumbled reply, turning your head slightly to whisper in Reid's ear. 
"Long shot, Doc." With that, you climbed from his lap, turning back to the other officer with a grin. 
"Sorry, was there anything professional we could help you with? Or would you like to go and deal with your little problem alone in the men's bathroom now?" He turned on his heels and exited swiftly, face red with rage at your insinuations. 
"Okay. I'll admit, it's going to work. But we're going to need to set up some bait and deliver the profile to them to make sure we have each and every one of their attentions."
"I'll notify, Hotch." 
"Spencer, wait." He stopped at the door and turned back to listen to you. "Earlier when you said… when you mentioned that you'd prefer…" You tried to ask the question  but it seemed the question just wasn't going to form on your lips  so you simply let out a small frustrated humph and let him figure out the rest. 
"Y/N, I… I don't know how to answer that question and still act professionally around you."
He left the room shortly after, and you couldn't help but feel disappointed at the distance suddenly kept between the two of you. You were beginning to become much too distracted by Spencer Reid.
–X– 
"Let's have another rundown again, just so we're all clear on the play by play on this." Morgan said as you and Spencer were wired up, ready for your operation. 
It wasn't exactly undercover, but it wasn't quite straight police work either, but here you were. After giving the profile earlier, you'd noted that three of the officers had seemed a little bit fidgety under all the new information they were getting, all three of them matching your profile. 
Unluckily for you, they just happened to be the Captain in charge of the precinct, Detective Handsy from your first trip into the office, and Detective Dumbass, who'd asked you and Spencer all about BDSM earlier that day. 
Penelope had filled you in on each of their backgrounds. The Captain was second generation police force, but court of public opinion had ruled that his father wasn't exactly an upstanding guy, a report corroborated by his mother's multiple accidents and trips to the ER. Detective Handsy had a misdemeanour sex crime expunged from his juvenile record for masturbating in public - on the unconscious girl who sat next to him on the bus.
Detective Dumbass seemed to be the police contact for all the local prostitutes. He'd busted at least thirty in three months, and each of them had reportedly tried to turn him in as the John who'd paid for their services. 
"Run through it again." Morgan brought you down to earth as JJ finished attaching the wire under your clothing, handing you the small in ear so you could hear updates from the team. 
"We walk into the bar, get a little too close for comfort than they'd like, then ask the bartender where we can have some fun around here. She's been prepped to give us the answer we want, and we set out on the highway where Rossi and Hotch are waiting in unmarked cars to give us an escort until our unsub takes the bait and tries to pull us over." 
"Good, now, Spencer, do I have to show you where to put your hands, or do you think you've read enough to figure out how to push the right buttons?" From the grin on his face, it was evident he was enjoy pushing the younger man's buttons  but you could tell he wasn't doing it maliciously. The two of you were both tense and on edge, and you needed that waylaid somehow. 
"Trust me, Morgan, I think he knows where his fingers should go." You said before grabbing Spencer’s hand and dragging him out of the vehicle, not letting him go until you were right by the door of the bar. 
You didn't really let him go either, it's more like he caught up to you and moved his hand from yours to your ass instead, pulling you closer into his body as you made to move inside the bar. 
He hesitated a moment outside, though.
"Y/N, we haven't talked about boundaries yet. I'm going to have to touch you in there and-"
"You have my permission. For anything." Your words come faster than you expect, but they're there, filling the silence of the night quickly. 
"Anything?" He asks, a small play lighting up his lips as he pulls you in closer. You can feel his breath on your skin, and you almost take back your words until he lowers his head. Your lips are barely an inch apart and getting slowly closer as you angle your head up towards him, when the bar doors swing open and he turns and pulls you inside instead. 
You recover quickly, trying to focus on the twelve women who need to find justice rather than the many things you suddenly want Spencer Reid to be doing to you. 
You slide into a booth at the edge of the bar  but you'd canvassed the place earlier, knowing that while it appeared to be a quiet corner, every other table had a clear view of your actions in the corner. 
Surely enough  you felt a few pairs of eyes on you as you sat down, a little closer for comfort than you expected.
"Well, Penelope's sources were correct. It seems like every cop in town is here tonight." You said, whispering the words into Spencer's neck, just above where his own wire was placed, making sure the words were heard by both him and the members of your team left in the surveillance van. 
"Show time," he said, grabbing your hands and bringing them to his lips as you stood. He gave your ass a quick slap as you made to walk towards the bar, and you sent him back a wink as you walked to order your drinks. 
Ordering them quickly, you took a simple scan of the room, noting that all three of your suspects were social butterflies tonight. They all sat on different tables, but each had at least another man with him, and every single one of them was looking at you presitorially. 
Returning to your seat with the drinks, you never felt their gazes leave you. 
"Certainly caught their attention. What now?" You asked hesitantly, sliding up against Spencer’s body again. 
"Now we give them a show." He said, snaking a hand between your legs and forcing them apart gently. You'd changed into a shorter skirt and smaller top before coming back out, needing to look the part of the slut they'd already deemed you. 
You smiled up at Spencer as he stoked your thigh suggestively, but he never moved it further up. 
"Spencer, kiss me." You said, eyelids heavy as you begged the man to take you further than touching. 
"Why?" He asked softly in your ear.
"Because a few of our suspects are getting restless, and I want to see if we can tip some of them over the edge. Obviously you're smarter than trying to stick your hand up my skirt in public surrounded by a group of cops who would happily stick you in a cell for the night for public indecency, so you're just going to have to stick your tongue down my throat." 
"Here I was thinking maybe you wanted it," he grumbled but complied anyway, grabbing the back of your head with his free hand and pulling you towards him. The kiss wasn't soft. It wasn't gentle the way his caresses were. It was hot and it was demanding, and when he pulled away after a minute and your lips followed his desperate for more  he grabbed your hair and pulled you backwards, baring your neck to him easily as he moved his lips down slightly. 
Opening your eyes then, you again surveyed the bar, noting that the Captain and his friends were leaving, sending a stink eyed glare in your direction as they threw down their cups and left. 
"Morgan, get eyes on the Captain. Make sure he goes home and stays there," you breathe out quietly, waiting to hear the affirmative in your ear as Spencer kept his head buried at your neck. 
In another second, he was off you, taking a swig only his drink as he smoothed your hair down again. You do your best to ignore the history pooling between your legs and the haze clouding up your brain as you stare at him swallow the drink, watching a small stream of the soda you'd ordered him instead run down his chin. 
You watched it fall and, in a moment of thoughtlessness, pressed forward to lap it up from his neck. He'd spent time marking you. What harm could this do now? 
However you rationalised it, you knew it was just an impulse, one greatly rewarded by his hands pulling your hips over his and a growl in your ears. 
"Anything?" Was the only thing he said, and you pulled away to look into his eyes again before he pulled you in for another kiss. 
"Sorry to interrupt, love bunnies, but we've had a change of plan. Two of our suspects are out, and they've bailed and been safely and discreetly escorted home by FBI agents from the field office. Hotch and Rossi are on the way back. He thinks we can nail him in there and get him to act out." 
Pulling back from the kiss long enough to whisper your reply to Morgan into Spencer's mic, you can barely tear your eyes away from the man. 
"What do you want us to do?" 
"Men's bathroom is free. Hotch thinks if we make it look like you're doing something less than holy in there that it could force his hand. Especially because he's shown voyeuristic tendencies in the past."
"Shit. Detective Dumbass?" 
"Only one left. And his name is Dunbar. You'd do well to remember that in the paperwork."
Pulling yourself up and out of Spencer's lap, you took a swig of your drink again as you stood. 
"Follow me in three minutes." He grabs you by your wrist and turns you back around to him again, though before you can leave.
"Y/N, we're going to get this guy. After we do, I think we should talk." Instead of answering him, you pressed another lingering kiss to his lips and moved out again, heading directly to the dark corridor where the bathrooms were. 
You slipped into the men's easily enough, thankful that it was empty. It was a single stall, and when you heard the knock on the door two minutes later, you were suddenly thankful that it was, because it meant that you could lock the door behind him and not risk anyone else coming in while you baited your unsub.
Spencer placed a hand to his lips as soon as he made it through the door, pulling out his phone to type out a message to you without speaking. 
"Followed me. Think he's listening outside." 
You pulled your own out to answer him.
"Let's give him a show then."
The both of you discarded your phones on the countertop of the bathroom and suddenly collided again, as if you were two magnets who could no longer resist the pull. 
Your lips fought hungrily, and now you didn't pull back your voice  letting all the moans of pleasure fall from your mouth and fill the bathroom.
His hands were on you in an instant, pushing you back against the door, letting the creep behind the wall hear as much as possible as his hips found yours and you started grinding against him like your life depended on it. 
You could no longer tell what you were doing for the case, and what you were doing out of the simple desire to do so, wrapped up in all of the pleasure he was giving you in that minute. And that was before he started talking. 
"You like that, whore? You like feeling my hands on you out here in this dirty bathroom." You clenched around nothing, even as his hands trailed lower, reaching the top of your skirt just as you replied. 
"Yes, I like that, Daddy. Please touch me more." 
You crashed together again, even as Spencer's hand fell inside your skirt and panties suddenly reaching for your clit. You forgot everything. The bathroom, the unsub, the wire you were wearing. When his hands were on you your only thoughts were him. 
You gasped in delight as he began rubbing you, moaning out heartily, not bothering to restrain your voice. Even if there was not a murderer on the other side of the door, you'd have wanted everyone to know how good he was making you feel. 
"Kneel," he says, and you listen, getting down to the dirty floor for him and looking up at him innocently.
"Now what, sir?" You ask, teasing him with a smile. He gives your face a light slap in reply, but the sound is sharp, and you can hear some movement outside. You don't get to think about it for too long, however, as he suddenly removes his cock from his pants. 
"Suck" is all the instruction you need before you're taking him into your mouth and wrapping your tongue around him. 
After the entire night of teasing, you don't have to be told twice. You take him down your throat until you're gagging, but he puts his hands on your head and pushes you further anyway. 
"That's it, baby, such a nice little slut just for me." He holds your hair as he begins fucking your face, softly whispering insults into the quiet bathroom. 
"Perfect little slut, letting me do this here. For anyone to see and hear how much you like my dick down your throat. I should unlock this door, show everyone how nicely you take my cock."
You moan around him, desperately gripping his thigh as you struggle to breathe. He finally pulls out, pulling you up by your hair until you're face to face with him again, saliva dripping from your mouth. 
"Is that how you like it?" He asks, and you nod fervently.
"Yes, sir. Please fuck me now, I've been such a good little girl." 
He turns you and presses you against the door again. As you turn your ear to it, you can hear some pacing outside of it as he lifts up your skirt.
You were ready to feel this perfect bliss, right up to the moment Morgan decided to remind you of the task at hand. 
"Hotch is here. We've got him cornered. Great acting, guys. We're thinking if Y/N exits the bathroom now, we can catch him trying to carry her off." 
His hands stilled on you, and you both stared guiltily into each other's eyes. You kept your sounds up, definitely acting now, feeling as though you'd just been doused in ice-cold water.
Footsteps retreating down the hall had you suddenly nodding in response to each other, faking your orgasm with one last large gasp followed by a few minutes of silence and you straightened your clothes ready to bait the unsub once again. He tucks himself into his pants, and you loudly discuss your plans for separate exits. 
"I'll meet you back at the table in five." He says, and with another lingering look, you're out the door and alone in the dark corridor, feeling empty and needy.
It was time to catch a killer.
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greatooglymooglyyy · 2 months
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Driver's License (Matt Sturniolo)
request:
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a/n: anon i love you so much, both of your ideas were so good. i hope you love this. i cut off the second part to gatekeep it till it comes out 💕 also ik in the song, it is the boys fault but i've done a few of those so I wanted this one to be on the reader.
contains: angst, fluff, breakup to makeup, abandonment issues, happy ending, kissing, cussing, 1.3k words
Three Months Ago:
“Okay, whoa. Don’t hit the break that hard. Ease on to it.” Matt says quickly, leaning forward a bit. I roll my eyes at his dramatics. “I barely pressed it, Matt.” I continue circling the parking lot slowly since he refuses to let me go over 5 miles per hour.
When a car enters the parking lot near me, I tense up but Matt jumps in. “You got it. You’re fine. They’re just gonna pass you.” He says, calmly, his hand resting near the steering wheel, just in case he needs to grab it. The car passes me and I relax, smiling over at Matt. “See.” He says, giving me a small smile back but then gesturing back out the window. “Look at the road, babe. Not me.” I snap my eyes away and focus back in.
“Pull into this one right here.” He gestures at a spot a couple of feet away and I turn into it, barely in the lines, and put the car in park. I wince and glance over at him, expecting him to talk shit, but he just smiles. “Not bad, baby. You wanna try to get on the street?” My eyes widen and he laughs and takes off his seatbelt.
“It’s okay. Next time.” He leans over and presses two kisses to my lips before opening his door so we can trade back. He comes around the car and opens the driver’s door, leaning in. “You’re gonna be coming through to pick me up in a second. Just wait.”
*********
I look down at the floor of the DMV and shake my head, trying and failing to push down my thoughts of Matt. Today is probably the hardest day without him I've had since we first broke up two months ago. Two months since I made one of the biggest mistakes of my life and didn’t even have the strength to try and fix it. Every time I think about the look in Matt’s eyes when I told him we were done, I want to crumble. So instead, I try not to think about it at all.
The attendant calls my name sharply and it snaps me out of my impending pity party. I quickly scramble over and take my license from her, muttering a quiet thank you. As I head back to my car, I can’t take my eyes off it. I always thought this moment would be so much bigger but it just feels empty now.
When I get in my car, I drum my fingers on the steering wheel for a second trying to clear my head. I squeeze my eyes shut trying to muster up something resembling self-respect before my heart wins out and I pull out my phone. This is a bad idea. I know it and repeat it to myself as I type Matt’s name into my Instagram search bar.
This has been a hard limit I set with myself, alongside not texting him or his brothers. I don’t stalk his Instagram like some psycho ex. Except apparently, I do today. And god, he looks good. His hair is longer than the last time I saw him, the ends curling up slightly. In his most recent post, he’s got a slight smile as he looks up at the camera but it’s the glint of something around his neck that makes my breath hitch. I scroll to his next post and zoom in to confirm it’s what I think it is and my eyes begin to water. He’s still wearing the necklace I got him on our first Valentine’s Day.
I close my phone and pull down my sun visor, staring into the mirror. Does it mean he still loves me? Do I still have a chance? Or does he just really like that necklace? I shake my head and push the visor up, throwing the car into reverse. It doesn’t matter. If there’s even still a fraction of a chance, I have to try.
*********
This was a mistake. I’m an absolute freak. I’m a loser. Why would I drive to this man’s house like everything’s fine? I put my head in my hands and count to three trying to calm down. I’ve been sitting outside of the triplet’s house for two minutes trying to get my nerve back but with every passing second I feel stupider.
Okay, it’s fine. This is fine. Before I can talk myself out of it anymore, I get out of my car and march up to their door. I knock twice, deciding that if they don’t answer in ten seconds I can run back to my car and pretend this never happened. I get all the way to eight before Chris swings the door open. We stare at each other blankly for a couple of breaths before Chris turns and calls for Matt to come down. He turns back to me, hardening his eyes. But he must see something in my face that makes him take pity because he just sighs before leaning in and whispering a low, “Don’t fuck this up, kid.”
As soon as Matt starts down the stairs, Chris turns and rushes back up, tapping a hand on his brother’s shoulder when he passes him. When he sees me in the doorway, Matt freezes momentarily, recovering quickly and setting his jaw. I take an involuntary step backward at the icy look he gives me as he leans against the door frame.
“Can I help you?” He asks. His voice has way less steel than I expected but the question still guts me. It feels like I’m standing in front of a stranger and not the boy who used to hold me every night.
“I just-” I start, biting down on my bottom lip as I try not to cry. “I got my driver’s license today,” I say lamely. I cringe slightly and he furrows his brow in confusion.
“Okay?”
“I just wanted to tell you that, I guess.”
“Alright. Thanks for the headline.” He says sarcastically.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here.” I say, turning to retreat.
“That’s what you’re sorry for?” He demands, clearly angry now. “You’re not sorry for leaving me out of nowhere? For never answering a single one of my messages? For breaking my fucking heart?”
I swallow thickly and nod, stepping closer. “Matt. I’m sorry for all of that. I’m so sorry I hurt you. I promise you that was never my intention. I was just scared.” He laughs bitterly at that and shakes his head.
“No. You don’t get to use that excuse. Everybody’s scared. I was scared. You don’t get to just run when shit gets real.” His voice cracks a bit at the end and he runs his hand over his face. I reach out tentatively and place my hand on his arm. He locks eyes with me at the touch but doesn’t immediately snatch away.
“I wish I could take it back. I wish every day that I had just talked to you. And I understand if you can’t forgive me for that, Matt. I don’t know if I would either. But, I promise if you can, I’ll spend the rest of our lives proving that I’m all in.” His eyes search mine desperately for truth and I hold my breath waiting for his response.
“Tell me that you love me.” He says, quietly.
My heart jumps as fear floods my body. I’ve never said it out loud before. I exhale deeply, letting my eyes trail over his face. “I love you, Matt.” My voice is a little wobbly but I pour as much honesty as I can into those words, hoping he hears what he needs.
He nods, his serious demeanor still in place, and sticks out his pinky finger. I laugh wryly and lock our pinkies, sealing the promise.
Matt pulls me inside of the house and takes my face in his hands, kissing me so intensely that my body leans sideways. He pulls away, pressing another one to my lips quickly and then drawing me into his arms. I wrap myself around his waist, feeling like the weight of the world has been lifted.
“I missed you so much.” Matt’s voice grates against my ear as he kisses behind it. I slip my hands under his shirt before I pull back to look at his face and grin.
“Enough to finally let me drive you on the interstate?” I say hopefully.
“Absolutely fucking not-”
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miley1442111 · 10 days
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fix it together- a.hotchner
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a/n: i imagined a fem reader but as per usual, imagine what you like :) thank you guys for all the love on the first part of this!!!!
please don't read if you have emetophobia!!!!
summary: aaron said some horrible things. He's trying to fix it, right?
pairing: husband! aaron hotchner x wife! reader
warnings: mad angst, aaron is so mean, reader believes she is a bad mother, heartbreak, feelings of disappointment, reader is pregnant, talks of pregnancy, talks of vomiting and morning sickness, happy ending :)
part 1- fix it.
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Aaron
The last few weeks had been… tense. Going back to work was fine and we still acted like a couple, don’t get me wrong. Yet, everything felt disgustingly different. The gifts hadn’t been working. The dates hadn’t been working. Every second of my days were spent thinking over what I’d said on that horrible night. Did I ask for an annulment? What was I thinking? I love you more than anything, I want you forever. Since the first date I’d known you were my girl, my forever girl. Every night I’ve been trying to make it clear to you that I want you. That I think you’re a good mother. Even the nights you'd stayed at Penelope's.
After Jack's birthday, you'd gone to Penelope's for 3 nights, I only saw you during the day at work, and even then you didn't look at me, let alone speak to me. You came home because you missed Jack.
Since then, you’ve been distant, focusing on work, or Jack more often than not. So I decided something. 
I made all the distractions go away. Jack went off to his cousin's house, and I pulled us out of work for a full week, much to Strauss’s annoyance. Only thing is that I hadn’t told you. 
Well, this better work. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Honey?” I cleared my throat, still groggy from waking up a few minutes prior. You weren’t in bed, you’d recently stopped our regular 5 minutes of hazy cuddling as we both wake up. My third favourite part of the day. My second favourite being when you come to me at 2:07pm everyday at work and give me a kiss, my first favourite being the kiss and hug you give me at the end of the day, just after tucking Jack in. All three had stopped in recent weeks.  
“Yeah?” You called from the bathroom, doing your regular morning routine. 
“I called us out of work,” I yawned and heard your quickened footsteps, then you appeared in front of me. You looked so beautiful, as always. A random and oversized t-shirt and a pair of shorts that left little to the imagination. I started to sweat just thinking about it. 
“What? Why?! We have people who need our help, we have cases-” You started rambling as I got up and cupped your face, kissing you. 
“Because I need you. I need you to be you again,” I whispered against your lips, hoping this would work. “So we’re going to have a nice few days, yeah? Today we have your appointment and we’ll have another talk. Then we can just relax for the rest of the week.”
“The week?” you stressed and I rolled my eyes, kissing you again. Your lips were so perfect. You’d brushed your teeth, not that I mind your morning breath. Not that I mind anything about you. 
“Please,” I was begging and I wasn’t even ashamed. “Please honey,” I wrapped my hands around your waist, trying to persuade you. 
“Aaron-”
“Don’t call me Aaron,” You’d stopped calling me the usual ‘baby’ or ‘darling’, or my favourite ‘love’. “Please. I want to be normal again. I don’t want this distance, I adore you more than anything.”
I could tell you felt conflicted. I hurt you. I know I did. 
“Aaron,” another stab to my heart. “Fine, we’ll take this week off, and we can… talk.”
“Thank you my love,” I smile, pressing kisses along your exposed collarbone. You chuckled. I’d missed your laughter. I’d missed you.
“Ok baby, come on, I need to shower,” you giggled against me and I could feel my heart mending. Baby. I couldn’t stop the grin on my lips. I let go of you, but not before kissing you again. My perfect wife. 
“Can I join?” I smirked, and you scoffed. 
“Don’t push your luck Hotchner,” You chuckled. This was it. This is what it used to be. Flirty, loving, and fun. Before I ruined everything. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You
Forgiving Aaron was the easy part. Worrying if every parenting decision was the right one, was pure agony. 
Is it wrong to say that like that? Should I have done this a different way? Was that right?
And your brain’s personal favourite: 
What would Haley have done? 
You were beating yourself up about it all for the past few weeks. You felt you had ruined Jack’s birthday with your own insecurities, since he’d asked if you were alright the day after.
Telling Jack you were pregnant was a highlight from the past few weeks. He was ecstatic to find out he’d be getting a little sibling. He already wanted to meet them and he understood that there would be times where either of you wouldn’t be able to play with him when his sibling arrived. 
Aaron had been grovelling to the highest degree. Flowers once a week, date nights, house chores, taking paperwork from you so you don’t need to do it, getting any and all pregnancy cravings, and helping you deal with all your morning sickness and migraines. 
It was maddening. You were going to go insane if you weren’t careful. 
Yet, you felt like every second of every day was spent thinking about your parenting choices and just wondering if having another baby was even a good idea. Would your new child even like you? Would this ruin your relationship with Jack? What was going to happen when they grow up? Did Aaron really think your parenting is terrible? 
Ok, so maybe you haven’t forgiven him just yet. Or at all. 
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You lay back in bed, a book in hand as Aaron pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You stared at the words on the page, trying to make sense of them when your brain was so clouded. Your levels of anxiety had risen greatly, which you both knew was not good for your baby. Aaron had been trying to lift some of the stress off your shoulders with his constant doting, but you knew that the stress was Aaron. From the moment you woke up to the minute you fell asleep, you felt like you were putting up a show. Being the perfect wife, perfect (probably shitty, you thought anyway) mother, perfect agent. It was exhausting. You wanted to go back to before, back to when you didn’t have to pretend everything was alright. 
You pushed him off you and lay on your side, a regular occurrence. Aaron felt dejected. He’d hurt you so badly, and he didn’t know what to do to fix it. 
“Baby?” he spoke into the room. 
“Yes Aaron?” You answered. 
“Do you still love me?” He asked in a small voice. He felt raw and full of emotion. Honestly, he was terrified of the answer. 
“Do I still love you?” You scoffed. “I think I should be the one asking that. You were the one mentioning getting an annulment.”
“You know I didn’t mean it like that… I was just-” He tried but you shot out of bed, staring at him with an anger in your eyes he could only describe as animalistic. 
“ 'You just' what Aaron? What?!” You squealed, all the emotions that you’d let build up, coming out at once. “I’ve been trying to be a good wife, to be a good mother for the past 4 fucking years Aaron. I have been that for you, I have been that for you and Jack, and I’m so happy to do it because I love the both of you more than anything! And all I ask in return is that you love and respect me! That is what you promised me on your wedding day! You didn’t fucking do that. You threw our marriage under the bus and compared me to your ex wife, the second you got slightly stressed. I’m sure Haley did a much better job than me Aaron, I’m sure she did! But I’m here Aaron. I love you. I love Jack. I have dedicated my life to the two of you, to our family! And now I feel like I’ve made a mistake in doing that, because the second you get overwhelmed, I’m in the first person that gets thrown under the bus?! To get reduced to nothing by you?! That’s not fucking fair Aaron, It’s not fair! And the worst part is that I fucking forgave you weeks ago, but I can’t forgive myself! I feel like such a shit mother every single day! I feel like I’m failing everyday, and that our baby will fucking hate me because it’ll somehow know that I’m the second choice! That it’ll know you’d rather be with someone who’s dead! So don’t come to me asking stupid fucking questions like that when you know the fucking answer Aaron. You don’t need to humiliate me more than you already have.”
You walked out of your shared bathroom, down the stairs into the living room, and sobbed your eyes out. 
Aaron sat up in the bed, thankful that Jack wasn’t home today, but devastated by your words, and his actions. Why had he even brought up an annulment? 
He couldn’t even begin to dissect the feelings he had when the bile in his throat suddenly came on and he had to run to the bathroom, and spill it into the toilet. Your words hit him like a knife, throwing his own words back in his face in the most disgusting way to do it, directed at you. You were an amazing mother, an amazing wife. And yet, you thought you were worthless. He had made you feel worthless. He felt terrible. He didn’t want Haley. Yes, he’d loved her for a long time, yes their divorce was heartbreaking. But he loved you now, and he didn’t ever want to take that for granted. He’d gotten two people who loved him unconditionally, two people who loved him enough to have a child with him, two people that would put themselves in harm’s way for him. 
And he fucked it up. Twice. 
He followed you downstairs, standing in the doorway as you sobbed into the couch cushions, then walked over and put a hand on your back. You didn’t push him off, that must be a good sign, right? He moved you to sit on his lap, your head in his shoulder as he calmed you down.
“I’m so sorry Y/n. I was awful to you. I don’t want an annulment, I never want an annulment. I know it sounds bad but I was just so used to Haley hanging a divorce over my head for so long, it just came out. You are who I want, who I would choose, every single time. You are a good mother. You’re going to be a good mother. I’m so sorry I ever made you doubt yourself. That I ever made you doubt me. I never want to hurt you like this again. This is the worst thing I’ve ever done, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry.”
You let out a half chuckle- half sob and pulled away. “Aaron, I need you to swear to me that you will never fucking bring up us breaking up again, unless you actually mean it.”
“I swear.”
“And I need you to promise me that you’ll work on stopping all the reactive bullshit we’ve been doing,” You sighed.
“I promise.” 
“Then, I think we’ll be ok,” You smiled softly and kissed his cheek, settling your head back against his neck. 
“So we’re ok again?” He asked hopefully. 
“Not yet, no,” You stated and his hope vanished. 
“Honey-”
“We will be, soon.” 
He smiled again. You were his, always. Just as he was yours, always. Anything, you could get through. 
Together.
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criminal minds masterlist :)
people that asked to be tagged: @michasia24 @pear-1206 @randomrosie01 @tonystankhere
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ravengards-rogue · 30 days
Text
the evening stretch | warm-up series.
ft. the prompts, nsfw / "dinner" / arthur morgan.
✧ tags : afab!reader + fem!reader outdoors sex, oral (f!recieving), reader is an outlaw, established relationship, desperate arthur morgan, 18+
✧ wc : 2.7k
✧ a/n : hello! this is part of a little warm-up series i do on my other blog where i pick three prompts and try to come up with something. i normally do them in a rut. im working on a commission and im super stuck so.
this actually landed on javier four times in a row but im being kind and sparing a friend so. here's mr. morgan.
✧ synopsis : arthur thinks the place between your legs would suit him quite nicely.
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
Honest to God, Arthur's never been like this before.
He ain't all that pious to start, so perhaps the sentiment doesn't stretch as far as he would like it too. But it's true, all the same - that in all the lives he's lived, he's never experienced this much bone-deep desire for another human being.
Which is outright ridiculous, since right now you're just making supper. Dinner, you always clarify with that yankee accent. You're going to have dinner together, 'cause Arthur needs to eat. He works hard, according to you.
It's not much, but you're a better cook than Pearson. Even if that's not saying a whole lot. And you're insistent on making the man eat, always on his case about how it's hardly enough for a man his size.
Arthur can chalk it up to being that you love him, as you have told him foolishly many times. He's sure you're not gonna be happy with him in a minute since again - all you're doing is making dinner.
It's just... something. Something about you today. Dammit, he doesn't understand it neither. You've got a job together, and you and Arthur play convincing husband and wife since you practically are anyway. Arthur's been watching you today closely. You lie pretty. Smile with all your teeth, clever with a careful finesse and an honest knack for debauchery and indecency.
You love calling yourself an awful woman. Joking about dying an unweddable spinster given your crudity.
But Arthur likes it in you. Of you. Likes it so much he's done nothing but readjust his pants watching you squirm your way out of every difficult situation and sling the revolver on your hip like a tried-and-true gunslinger.
You're a fine woman to him. A fine one.
The fire crackles as you place a pot over the little flame of the faux stove. You've made a real dinner somehow - with some vegetables and creeping thyme and carefully butchery of meat. It smells good and you seem proud of it, stirring the thing with the sharp end of your knife. Careful not to scrape the pot.
Arthur watches the light glow orange on your face, carefully observing the way it shines on you. You don't look up at all when you speak.
"Gonna stare a hole into me, Morgan."
He feels something warm crawl up his cheeks. He scratches his beard instinctively, tucking his hat over his eyes.
"'m sorry," He says, unsure of how to cover for himself. "Been thinking about some things."
"Don't hurt yourself," You reply, sardonic and dry. Arthur adores you. He laughs to himself and feels warmed by the pleasant smile that seems to give you.
"I'll try. Ain't much used to thinking,"
"Penny for your thoughts, then Mr. Morgan." You reply, carefully moving the pot around so nothing burns. "Might help you clear your mind if you get some of it off your chest."
He's backed himself into a wall. Goddamn him and his big mouth. He hesitates, taking it off this time. Fidgety.
"Yanno, there ain't a lot women like you. Not that I've met at least."
You give him a look. Your lips pressed into a flat line, unimpressed by him.
"Is that so?"
He laughs to himself. "It is indeed. You're a real piece of work. 'Specially going around batting your lashes, making yourself out to be a housewife."
"Aw what, did you like seeing me all doe eyed?" You smile to yourself, teasing but not entirely insincere. "If it helps, since you're the fake husband, I'm only half-acting."
That makes him grin. Though you say it with confidence, the sincerity it makes you flush.
"It ain't that," Arthur says again, looking at your face for the second time in a few minutes. "Just that you're a fine woman to be around. What do they call it...resourceful. That's what I'm thinking of."
"Who taught you such a big word, Morgan?"
"Trelawny, I'd guess."
You laugh, loud and beautiful and Arthur smiles. You look at him from across the fire. "Well, I'm glad you like my company, Mr. Morgan."
"I do more than like it," He hums, offering a reprieve. He nods at you carefully, head tilted. "Come 'ere,"
Your eyes widen at him, but you don't deny him of what he's asking. For that he is awfully grateful. You're more than capable and much less than needy. There's victory in your deliberate desire for him, Arthur thinks. You want him enough to let him chase you.
You come sit by Arthur. You're a little awkward with him still but he don't mind. It adds to whatever he feels for you, sugar-sweet affection and all. You sit on your knees and Arthur turns his head looking at you.
Beautiful. Beautiful thing you are, really. He has a hard time finding the words to tell you.
He reaches up, hand cupping your face. You lean into the touch, palm resting on calloused hand. He adores you.
"And quit with the Mister Morgan nonsense. Drives me crazy."
"Arthur," You say, slow and deliberate. "You know you're looking at me like you wanna eat me."
'"Read my mind, then."
"Arthur," You repeat, scandalized. He would smile if he wasn't so serious. "We're supposed to be eatin' dinner. You got into a whole spat with them Leymone Riders just today. You need to recover,"
His smile widens.
"Lettin' me go down on ya will heal me just fine,"
You look at him exasperated. Arthur leans into your neck, placing chaste kisses down the line of your jaw. He kisses you just there - underneath your earlobe, knows it drives you crazy.
"Lay down, sugar. Help a poor, injured man heal."
You pull away from him with faux exasperation, fond smiling breaking your face.
"You can be such a dog some times, do you know that?"
"I'm afraid I do,"
You give him another unimpressed look, but you listen anyways. Arthur moves so you can lay down on the bedroll - his bedroll. He takes off his coat just before you lay your head, playing it underneath you to get you more comfortable.
"Dinner's gonna burn," You tell him, almost reflexively. He laughs as he looks at you, your hands folded over your stomach and flat. He laughs at you.
"Burn? You feeling warm?"
"Arthur!"
And he laughs again, catching your boot in his hand as you go to kick his chest lightly. He sets it back down as he stares at you. You're quite the sight. Adoration bubbles up into his throat, blooms out into a hum. The sound of crickets and owls and all sorts of night wanderers sound - but none are distracting enough to pry his gaze away.
"You're looking too much," You say, your voice a half tremble. He nods.
"Got too," Arthur hums, leaning forward into your space. You always smell good to him, some cross between soft earth, and sweet liquor and clothes left in the sun. Skin and salt and sweet. "Who knows how long I'll be around."
He presses his lips to yours gentle and you kiss him - but only once before pulling away. Your eyes suddenly serious, warm palm on his cheek.
"Don't say something so morbid. If you go, I go,"
"Sweetheart—"
"No buts." You affirm, pressing your thumb to his lip all serious. Your eyes meet and for a moment - just one minute, all he wants to do is stop time from moving. From stealing him from you in life at all. Even a few seconds, intolerable. "Don't feel to good to hear, does it? So don't say it."
"Alright, alright," He huffs, laughing against your neck. He kisses it again, right against your pulse - quickening under his teeth as he bites and scrapes. He mulls over how much he wants you, and how little time there is to do everything. "Jus' lemme...I dunno."
Now you're cheeky, smiling up at him. Lord above, you do something so terrible to him. "Now that's just not true, baby."
He laughs deep and raspy. It's not true, because he knows exactly what he's after.
Arthur lets his hands plane over your clothed body. He doesn't bother with the ritual of undressing you entirely - since the act doesn't deserve the intimacy. You do, maybe - but Arthur's head feels too foggy to do anything civilized. He has to settle for letting his hands grip the fabric of your skirt and push it until it bunches around your waist.
There's no real delicacy in it, save for the way your breath hitches as Arthur gives himself better access. He moves to lay on his stomach between your thighs. He wishes it were brighter to give him better view. He's seen it plenty but looking at your pretty pussy alone gets him harder than steel.
His hands go underneath every layer of fabric to undo the little tie of your undergarments. You squirm when Arthur takes them off, but you don't pull away.
It's pretty. Even with the dim light of just the moon and fire to let Arthur see it. What entices him mostly though is the scent, after a long day of riding out alone - there's something about the way you smell - sweat and all that makes the back of his mouth ache with want. Makes his teeth hurt just dreaming about it.
He doesn't let his animalistic urges take him yet. He knows you need the build up. His hand is soft as he grips onto your waist. He pulls your legs further apart and lets his lips brush the inside of your thigh. Starts at your knee and works his way up, his mouth burning hot - open kisses. You giggle at the sensation of his beard, but it's tamped down with lust Arthur knows like the back of his hand.
Slow, deliberate, sinful. He knows the way you liked to be touched so exactly, but the pace is set more by his desperation. It grows ten sizes listening to you sigh and huff, feeling your hands come down to touch his hair and play with it.
"Arthur," Your voice calls. Pleading. Wanting him. You're so good at making Arthur loose his composure with so little. It's hard to tease you as your voice clips off into a whine. "Arthur,"
"I've got you," He says, assured. He means it as much as he means anything he's ever said. He ain't a decent man, but this much he can say full ways. "I've got you, sugar. Ease up. Let me take care of you,"
And so you again, breathless - boneless and eager. You let Arthur into your space, and something about that. Something about you. His heart races, blood pumping through his body. It pulses in his ears, head swimming with nothing but praise for you.
You're a fine woman. You're a good girl. The best he knows.
Arthur can feel the way your clit pulses with want before he ever puts his mouth on you. Makes him chuckle, gloved hand resting on your navel. He uses his thumb to pull it back, before using both hands to spread you open. Then, in an act less then gentlemanly, spits on it hard. He watches it land, lewd as it drips between your fold. He laughs to himself.
Another pitchy call of his name and Arthur decides he's had enough fun to get him through the evening.
He kisses your clit first, thinks it's only gentlemanly. When your hips buck up trying to chase the feeling of his mouth - he laughs. His hands dig into your hips. You're soft, skin dimpling from just how tight he holds onto you.
When he finally gets what he wants, his own body lurches forward from want. He nearly slumps into the ground - half-way between relieved and utterly addicted. It's a sense of euphoria unmatched by the finest liquor or cigars money can be.
The taste of you fills his mouth as Arthur eats.
Arthur is not used to playing predator. Not interested in the act of devouring. You often compare him to some sort of herbivore. But there's something too hungry, too visceral, too primal for him to be anything but a coyote. A teethed thing, all screwed up from hunger.
He lets his tongue slip against the seam of your cunt, all the arousal collecting in his mouth. His senses flood with something heady, sweet but bitter and he groans shamelessly as a result. Spoiled by the taste and utterly debauched.
"Oh, god - Arthur, you're—"
Arthur is pleased by the way your words are cut off by your own moan. He slides his tongue back up, wet muscle firm as it lays flat against your clit. There's a slight twitch like it's asking for more attention.
Arthur is all to eager vtoo provide, closing his lips around the twitching bundle of nerves. He knows what you like. Learned over time just the amount of pressure he needs to suck with and the speed he needs to draw his tongue over your clit to get you right at the very edge of your orgasm.
He teases you to that pace. Slow increases in either or, until it's just at that perfect medium. Once he hits that spot, you always moan so pretty.
You shudder, your body lurching up as your hands get tighter in his hair. "Aah, fuck. Ngh, Arthur. Don't do this t'me."
You begging him not too makes him want to do it more. If Arthur were any less aroused, he would. But his brain can barely think up enough to stamina to do that. His own cock is strained against his work pants - hips instinctively rutting into the bedroll just beneath him. Silently seeking friction all while hoping he doesn't get enough to distract him.
It'd be a damn shame, he thinks - letting anything pull him from the taste of your pussy. From the smell of it, from the sight of it, from the feeling of you. Sticky, pulsing strings of arousal coating his tongue and turning all his thoughts to dust.
His cock throbs again as you rut against his mouth. Arthur pins you in place.
"Please," You say. A magic word he ain't much stronger than. "Please make me cum,"
You really are a good girl, the way you know exactly what makes him tick. Arthur moans into your cunt as he sucks and licks and eats. He'd die over it, and he does not mean it lightly. It's the only thing in the world he wants to do in the moment. He laser focuses on finding that sweet spot again.
And he knows he does when you start whimpering. Squirming and holding onto his soft brown locks and pleading for something you don't know about. He can feel how wet your getting - dripping along down his beard and face. Thick strings of your arousal stick and slide down his neck.
He's never been a messy eater, but you've been disproving many of his prior understandings of himself. He supposes it's only natural.
"Oh, baby," You say, not even his name. Arthur knows it's a warning that you're gonna cum. All he can do is encourage you. He hums into your soft, wet cunt and you groan again. "Fuck, Arthur. I'm gonna cum."
Arthur knows better. He doesn't do a thing but keep going. Lets you move and thrash and pull away but keeps you firm in his place and eats your pussy until you can barely think.
He knows the knot is untying before you do because of how much you squirm. When you cum, you cum hard. Your back arches up into a picture perfect curve, toes curling and hands tugging at his roots for purchase.
He can feel every pulse of desire as you finally do let go. You cry out, loud enough to startle any nearby critters. Your fingers grip tight at the base of his hair as the orgasm washes over you. It's just as magnetic as it was the first time.
He's sure that will always be true.
When Arthur pulls away from your pulsing, wet core - he can feel just how much of his lower face is sticky. He's sure you also know, if the way you laugh is anything to go by.
And he's not long to follow after. Not even a few seconds and he can feel something in pants tighten - a mess of white staining the front of the denim in an onset of lust damn near shameful. Is he a teenager again? Lord above.
Breathlessly, you look down at him after you've ridden your high out.
Pulling up Arthur by the collar, you look at him slowly and frown. You look impassioned and a little frustrated.
You kiss him tender after you've come too. Once, then twice, then a another time with your hand still drawn into a fist. Arthur grabs it closed, opening your palms before kissing the palm of your hands until you're no longer mad.
"Hate how good you are at that," You admit, a little drunk of the euphoria of all of it. "Make me feel so crazy."
Arthur beams at you unapologetic.
"It's good to be that with me, sweetheart." Arthur says, kissing the corner of your mouth. "Now how about you go and give me one more?"
You laugh breathlessly but don't go to stop him at all.
"Insatiable man."
"Only for you, my girl."
.𖥔 ݁ ˖˚☽˚。⋆
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inkdrinkerworld · 8 months
Note
i am a fiend for early seasons Reid omg i can imagine reader like ‘fixing’ his glasses as an excuse to be a lil close to him and he’s like just about having heart palpitations
Spencer might combust. You’re finally back after a week away on sick leave and he believes you’ve gotten even more beautiful. 
“Hey Spence, miss me?” you ask as your heels click in the direction of his desk. He notices right away that your voice is still a little raspy as you sit on the edge of his desk. 
You’re wearing purple today, and Spencer’s heart does a little jump when he smells that pink pepper, sandalwood and amber perfume you love so much. 
“Are you feeling better?” he asks and you smile, bright and real and Spencer is sure his pulse can be seen in his throat. 
“Better now, I kept wanting to see you but I didn’t want to transfer my germs.” you honestly as you riffle through your bag. 
Spencer frowns, “You wanted to see me?” It’s surprising. As of twenty seconds ago Spencer believed that the only people who wanted to spend time with him outside of work was his mother and the little boy he plays chess with. 
You pull out an envelope and then turn to Spencer with a serious look on your face. 
“Of course I did,” before you can carry on Emily and Derek arrive and come over to you offering hugs. 
“Why am I not surprised that you stop by Pretty Ricky first?” Derek teases, Spencer’s cheeks going red when you look at him over your shoulder and give him a little smile. 
“Because I missed him the most? You and Pen kept calling so I didn’t feel too far from you.” Derek rolls his eyes and Emily squeezes your shoulder. 
“I’m glad you’re back, this one,” she points to Spencer, “has been a little subdued in your absence.” 
Spencer scratches the bridge of his nose at Emily’s words, knocking his glasses askew. He’s started wearing them again, after you had told him you missed seeing him in them. 
She doesn’t elaborate after that and walks off to the kitchen to get a pot of coffee started. 
“You did miss me,” you gush and Spencer hopes his cheeks don’t look as hot as they feel. “I missed you too, y’know. S’why I wanted to see you.”  you whisper that part to him, turning your body so you face him properly. 
Spencer’s sure his blush is fire engine red as you lean into his space and fiddle with his glasses till they’re righted. 
“I like these new frames by the way, they make you look even more handsome.” you kiss his cheek before hopping off the desk. 
“I gotta go check in with Hotch, but if we get a case save me a seat on the jet?” You wave the envelope in your hand as you walk off, still looking at Spencer to catch his nod and when he clears his throat so the, “Yeah,” he responds with isn’t broken. 
Derek chuckles as he leans back in his seat. 
“You might want to work on that blush Pretty Ricky, I think if she does that again you might pass out.” 
Spencer tosses a balled up piece of paper at Derek and though he aims for his head, it barely skims his shoulder. Spencer just really hopes that you don’t mind the hammering of his pulse because if you carry on any longer, he’s sure he’ll need to be hospitalised.
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qpidkitea · 4 months
Text
TRANQUILITY
FARLEIGH START X FEM! READER
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PRÉCIS: AU where Oliver is caught before he fully takes over Saltburn, Felix is still dead, and obviously Farleigh is completely torn and in need of comfort at the loss of his best friend and cousin, takes place after the curtain scene
WARNING: Angsty, cursing, mentions of death, cheek kisses, descriptions of a dead body, so much crying, comfort.
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Nothing could've prepared you for today. Nothing could've prepared you for the horrified scream of Elspeth that's still ringing in your ears after the finding of Felix's dead body. His face was blue and swollen, a white, foamy, dried substance cascading down his cheek. His wings from his costume were bent and dirtied as he lay face down on the floor. The police discovered Oliver and his schemes almost immediately. They found the discarded powdered poison laying just a few yards away from the crime scene in the maze. His fingerprints were all over it.
Lunch was unbearable. After watching Oliver being pulled away from the mansion in handcuffs, everyone, especially Farleigh, was excused, his previous claims of drug use dismissed. Silent tears streamed down almost everyone's faces. Venetia almost looked dead. She was surely high on some type of pills, her mascara horribly smudged on her pale face. You wanted to help her, but you feared that if you touched her, she would crumble under your touch completely. Farleigh was shaking horribly, trembling with the effort of trying to keep his breakdown at bay, but tears still found their way down his face.
You sat silently beside Farleigh, holding and squeezing his hand underneath the table, staring down at the soon-to-be cold Shepards Pie on the table in front of you. Elspeth clears her throat, and you look up. She smiles at you, lifting her wineglass and taking an almost dangerous gulp of wine. She sets down the glass, the sound of it being painfully loud because of the quietness of the entire place, the only other sounds being small sniffles, and the sound of Jame's fork and knife cutting into his meal.
"Y/N darling?" Elspeth's voice startles you, sucking you out of the silence of your own head.
"Yes?" You didn't know what she could've possibly asked you at the moment. Your thoughts bounced off the walls of your head, wondering if she would ask you anything about Oliver. Maybe a question about if you noticed any of this behavior at school, or while he lived here..
"Did you enjoy the party?" Farleigh chuckles slightly, squeezing your hand impossibly tight. He shook his head in utter disbelief at her question.
Before you could answer, Duncan enters the room quietly, leaning down next to Sir James, who looks completely unfazed but yet mortified. Duncan then whispers in James' ear, something about closing the curtains in case the coroner passes the window of the room that you all sat in.
"Yes. Thank you. Close them."
Duncan closes the curtains smoothly, the room becoming an almost evil looking red as they close. There was one area left of the room that still shun with the beautiful light of the morning, and you can't help but think how the day would be perfect for laying in the tall grass fields underneath the warm sun, ignoring the cold breeze that would pass you. Duncan takes a few steps to close the last curtain, only to struggle horribly. Something must've been caught. His efforts became more aggressive, especially after noticing the coroner walking closer to the window. Sir James became more aggravated at each tug of the curtain.
"Duncan, just get them closed, for Christ's sake!" Sir James yells and angrily lets his fists slam against the table, and it makes everyone in the room jump.
"Yes, I am trying, sir. I can’t-" Duncan gives the curtain a final yank, and the room is plunged into the same red darkness. As if on cue, the sound of the gurney that held Felix's body rolled on the gravel, complete with the ambulance doors shutting harshly. That seemed to be Farleigh's final straw. He stands up abruptly, still holding your hand, which yanks your arm, forcing you to stand up with him. As Farleigh walks away, you walk with him quietly, ignoring the protested yells of Sir James. He walks quickly, still shaking, with tears flowing down his face.
Even though Farleigh was walking incredibly fast, it seems the walk was longer than usual, his long legs working overtime as he walks the enormous expanse of the mansion.
"Farleigh... slow down please'm gonna fall-" You were tripping on your own two feet, whisking down hallways and turning the curves of the wall way too fast to even register you were turning them.
"Shut up"
You weren't trying to submit to him, nor show your weakness, but you knew he was frustrated, so you shut your mouth. Farleigh loved the feeling of control, especially after feeling like he had none recently. As you reach Farleigh's room, you immediately noticed the white powder spread across in a thin line across the brown wooden desk in his room. You take your hand away from his, pushing the door closed gently. As the door closes behind you, Farleigh breaks down, not even making it to his bed before his knees give out. Sobbing quietly with his back turned and his arm and head resting on the edge of the messy, unmade bed, his body jumping with every try to catch his breath.
You walk quickly to him, crouching down next to him, not worried about your skirt riding up, not around him. Rubbing your hand up and down his back, you gave him a minute to let it all out, to let all the tears out that couldn't be let out in the somewhat hostile situation of lunch.
"Farleigh..." Before you knew it, five minutes passed, and it seemed as if Farleigh's cries weren't faltering, still crying and sniffing at the intensity that he was when he started.
"Farleigh, darling please, breathe for me." He breathe's in wildly, his breath was so shaky, you thought that if he tried to breathe in properly, his lungs would explode. He finally lifts his head up, his face extremely red from crying and the lack of a proper breath. You cup his wet face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs across his cheeks, drying them as you do.
Instead of words, you do. You breathe in deeply, and Farleigh mocks you shakily, but he still does. You hold your breath for a minute before exhaling. With each inhale you take, he mirrors your breath again, and again, and again, until he returns to normal breathing.
You pull the wreck of a boy into a tight hug. He doesn't hug you back, but you don't mind. Pulling back, you kiss his cheeks and then his forehead, which seems to calm him down all together. A hiccup is heard coming from him and you can't help but giggle. The poor boy cried too hard to the point of hiccups.
"Thank you" Farleigh looks into your eyes as he says this, words sounding strange from the swelling of his sinuses and vocal cords. He looks down at his lap, sighing harshly before leaning his head against his bed, feeling his neck dampen from his own tears that stained the sheets.
"Here, let me get you a cold cloth." You stand up, traveling down the hall to the cold bathroom. It was a chilly day at Saltburn. You open the small closet next to the door, opening it to reveal a stack of purple, white, and beige washcloths. You grab a purple one and walk to the sink. As you turn on the sink, you run your fingers underneath the cold water, your fingers going numb as the water turns colder. You place the rag under the running water, letting it completely soak, the color of the cloth becoming a deep purple.
You turn off the water and squeeze the rag of the remaining water, unfolding it and letting it swing in the air, letting the chilly air make the rag colder. As you walk back down the hall, you were happy to hear silence. Happy to hear that Farleigh hadn't cried again. You walk into the doorway and see Farleigh still where you left him, with his head leaning back on the bed. You sit down next to him on your knees. The hardwood floors hurt, but it was all worth it for your sweet boy.
Placing a cool wet rag on his hot face felt like heaven for Farleigh. He sighed deeply as you pressed the rag to his face. You couldn't see his face, but you could tell he was smiling. His face cooled down quickly, and he soon exhaled harshly because of restricted air flow coming through his covered face. He was okay. And you were glad he was okay.
"What the fuck would I do without you?" His words come out muffled, nasally, and strained, but you still heard him. You pull the rag off his face and gently kiss his cheek for the third time.
"Probably suffer"
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rottiens · 2 months
Text
PRETTY IN THE DARK | GETŌ SUGURU
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✮ tags. . noncon, vampire getō x human fem reader, blood, objectification, 18+ mdni. divider creds: cafekitsune. | WC: 2.3K
✮ about. . in your desire to protect your family, you end up making a deal with the devil.
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He is sitting in the dining room when you enter the room. Your body doesn't react with a shrug of muscles as it was usual to do every time you encountered him wandering around as if he owned your apartment, but your heartbeat detonates as if someone has pushed you from behind and you plummet into the void.
Shadows take over every corner of your place as if this were their and Suguru's home and not yours. You breathe, exhaling the fright that has frozen your veins and move towards the switch blindly, sliding your fingers along the wall until you manage to make light.
Suguru squints his eyes being struck by the ace of light. He is sitting in one of the chairs with his elbows on the small wooden table, he has a half bun tying part of his hair up, the rest of the black hair falls down his back perfectly. The turtleneck sweater is new, it makes him look more elegant and you almost laugh at how formal he looks.
"I wasn't expecting you today," you say approaching, dropping the keys of the apartment on the table surface. You want to tell him he's quite the dramatist for setting this scene for you, the waiting in the dark in your apartment god knows what for so long, the absence of light, the black clothes… you wonder how long he's lasted waiting there for you, if he's gone through your kitchen, if he's rummaged through your clothes.
His clear eyes scan your face as if reading what you're thinking, then he notices the paper bags you drop next to your keys before answering. "I thought I'd stop by for a snack" He replies with a mocking tone.
"What's this?" you reach out to grab the glass bottle in front of him. Inside a red, almost black liquid swirls amusedly as you move it back and forth in search of something to give you a clue as to what it might be and you pray it's not what you're thinking.
"Beet juice." The confession makes you scrunch up your face in distaste. Okay, it wasn't what you were thinking but this doesn't make it any less gross. "It's good for the red blood cells."
You squint to examine it better. Was he giving you a gift? Was that what he meant? The vampire who had threatened to kill your family if you didn't feed him your blood?
"I'm not going to drink it." You set the bottle down on the table with a thud.
"You will. I need you to be healthy." There it is, the reason. You should have known better.
Suguru pulls his hands away from his face that drop his jaw, invisible hands squeeze your chest at the sight of him again, it was a strange feeling having him erase your memory after feeding on you to make you forget details about him that you don't need to know, just in case you decide to expose him to the church. So seeing him always makes you feel uneasy, he is handsome, his small eyes are intimidating and the whole aura around him makes you feel tiny.
"Shall we get this over with?" you raise an eyebrow looking to put an end to an encounter that shouldn't be any longer than necessary. You move the sleeve of your sweater up revealing your right wrist which begins to heal, at the juncture are two dots on your skin, around them the flesh takes on a yellowish color.
Suguru gets up from his seat and without taking his eyes off you sits on the chair next to you. His fingers take your hand gently, without wasting time he brings it to his mouth and his lips brush against your skin causing you to tingle, he breathes in your scent, breathes in the essence of your skin with his eyes closed.
"Stand up," he suddenly orders.
You move against the wall, trembling with fear and anticipation. Suguru is in front of you taking up all the space that allows you to see the rest of the room, your gaze riveted on the silver cross hanging from his neck and you snort at the irony.
With his finger he lifts your chin and makes you look at him, you want to run away, but you force yourself to be brave by chewing on the bottom of your cheek.
"You don't have to hypnotize me." Suguru raises an eyebrow, questioningly. "I'm not going to scream."
Surprise marks the wrinkles at the corner of his mouth in a brief smile. "You want to feel the pain?"
You shake your head before pulling your face away from his finger yanking back. "I just want to know what it feels like." You feel guilty. A bitter cocktail rises in your stomach, you think it's unfair to have to be protecting your family without knowing exactly how you do it, what happens before, during or after. You feel guilty for not feeling pain.
"Are you going to be a good girl for me?" he speaks softly. You squeeze your eyes tightly shut ignoring the hotness that suddenly chokes you.
Instead of answering you reach out your hand, you hear him chuckle softly and when you sense him lowering your hand back to its place you turn hurriedly to look for him, wondering why. The hope that he is going to let you go today crosses in front of you.
"I want from the vein in your neck."
You swallow. Suguru can't disguise staring at your throat and how it rises and falls. Wordlessly you push down on the fabric of the sweater collar and let him see the vein pulsing rapidly thanks to your racing heart.
Suguru moves closer to you, his teeth grazing you as if testing how fast he can break the skin. Then, he deposits a kiss that makes you clench your lips to keep from moaning, his tongue glides in wet circles that that warm the area and your body trembles.
"Hold still."
Is all you hear before suguru opens his mouth in an inhuman way and sinks his long fangs into your neck, the pain making you moan involuntarily. His fangs are sharp needles that sink into the flesh and pierce until they leave two holes just enough for blood to spill out of the vein. The piercing pain stops, instead you feel his soft lips sucking like he's giving a hickey.
"It hurts…" you whimper.
The sounds of your blood gurgling in his mouth deafens you, you drop your eyelids as he pushes your head further to the side in an awkward position so he has the space to go deeper and chase the spilling crimson stream.
A hand-shaped snake crawls up your navel, searches for the button of your pants and in seconds undoes it to find your panties. Suguru stops feeding to speak in your ear.
"I'm going to make you feel better." His voice is almost unrecognizable, less friendly, deeper and more terrifying. "I'm going to keep feeding on you and you're going to cum on my long fingers."
You don't even respond. You can't complain because of the way your hands lose feeling and your knees buckle. Suguru goes back to sucking as the pad of his cold fingers push your pussy lips wide open and squeeze your clit back and forth almost in a lazy way. You squint harder to imagine that you're not there, that you're somewhere else and this isn't happening. Because what kind of person would you be if you felt pleasure because this creature, who every week comes to feed on you, is making you feel good?
He slips a finger easily inside you masking the pain in your neck with pleasure. Suguru pushes it in as if searching for something, then adds another finger and a louder moan tears your throat. Suguru pauses to lay his forehead on your throat, giving one last lick to the open wound that slowly stops bleeding and just lies there enjoying his long fingers parting your wet pussy.
"You taste so good when you're aroused," he growls, thrusting slowly. "I can hardly stop myself."
His fingers increase the intensity of his strokes, massaging your pussy in an erotic back-and-forth, scissoring his fingers and thumb touching your clit. It doesn't take your body long to reach orgasm, shattering you to pieces and making the lack of blood make you feel dizzy. Helpless and weak, you cling to his sweater, intoxicated in the peculiar perfume that envelops him until you begin to see black and everything becomes one big swirl that makes you fall into a deep sleep.
. . . When you wake up you are in your bed, lying on your back with one of your plush blankets covering your legs. You try to sit up but your body aches, especially your neck. You bring your fingers to where the wound should be but find the soft fabric of one of your scarves wrapped around your neck.
"Was I too rough?" This time, your body does react by curling up on the mattress. You pull your legs up to the level of your chest and search for the voice that burst into your room.
You find him as a long figure standing at the edge of the bed looking down at you from above. Did he care? Clearly not, because his mischievous-looking smile tells you otherwise.
You begin to tremble as he approaches, your gaze following him as you watch him come closer to you. The bed sinks with his weight, he reaches for one of your arms hugging your knees and pulls it towards him, Suguru brings the back of your hand to his mouth and leaves a kiss there, and the scene is so intimate that it feels awkward to you.
His body sensation is not icy cold as it normally is, his warm hands mimic the warmth of an ordinary man and you have a theory that it is due to the temperature change your fresh blood briefly carries in him, this only lasts a couple of minutes after all.
You wonder what he's doing, what he's playing at. Your heart leaps out of your chest the moment Suguru starts a path of kisses from your palm to your wrist, your blood turns icy cold after he stops on your wrist, you stutter his name, you think he's going to bite you again but what he does instead takes you by surprise.
Suguru gives you a long lick, the taste of your body cream diluted in the day's sweat soaks his tongue, then he closes his lips around the area and makes a hickey. Red, small, and when he pulls away to contemplate his creation it almost looks like the shape of a map. He crawls from your skin reluctantly and looks at you between heavy lashes, there's lust in his gaze mixed with hunger and desire and you hate yourself for the way your body reacts, your nipples harden and your pussy gets wet for him again.
"What-"
"No one touches my property." Your eyes widen. "This should carry a message to whoever you're fucking, unless of course, you wish me to show up in person to your job."
You reeked of man perfume and it made him want to throw up. He didn't want to smell someone else's scent on you when he was feeding.
"That's not of your business," you spit with a boiling face and a flutter in your stomach, tugging at your hand to escape the trap it had fallen into but it's only in vain because his strength is triple yours and you don't move an inch. "Our deal is just my blood."
"Perhaps," suguru murmurs, flashing you in a brief smile just the tips of the fangs that a moment ago were digging into you. "But it will be your fault when I bring their head as an offering along with another bottle of beet juice."
You struggle to hold back tears of helplessness. He grins again and his teeth cut through the darkness, you clear your throat to fight back and say it's not fair however Suguru gets up before you can.
Gracefully, he gives a brief tour of the room. You are embarrassed that he finds it in this state, books on your bed, shoes out of place and clothes on the floor. You were in a rush this morning, you were going to be late and you prioritized time over tidying your safe space as you rummaged through your uniform shirt.
He removes the hair tie that grips his mane and lets it fall all the way down his back like a dark waterfall as he looks down at the jeans on the floor, on top of it is a pair of light pink panties that he observes undisguised. As if every move is planned he ties all his hair back into a high ponytail, the movements causes the black sweater to ride up his abdomen revealing a wink of toasted skin, with a line of hair revealing itself at the edges of his pants and rising blurred to his belly button.
"How are you feeling?" He asks suddenly, dropping his arms to either side.
"Do you even care?" you reply curtly, looking down at his feet. You glance up at him in time to see him smirk, clearly amused by your attitude.
Suguru moves towards you again and you wonder when you will stop feeling not enough in his presence. He sits at your feet, puts his hand to his mouth and bites down hard. Your body squirms at the action, raw fear showing on your wrinkled nose and furrowed brow.
"Drink," he says reaching out, droplets of blood slipping onto your favorite blanket.
"No."
"It's not a request, sweetheart." You don't understand what he intends by this but you don't seek to make him angry either, so you lean down and wrap your lips around his skin to finally suck the blood that spurts out of him.
The taste of iron is so strong it's unbearable. Your mouth fills with saliva and your stomach knots warning you with rejecting what you are drinking, you want to move away but his hand is behind the back of your neck pulling you closer to him and preventing your escape.
"Keep sucking. Your wound will heal faster that way."
You blink faster pushing away the tears that peek out, you close your eyes tightly becoming oblivious to what you are doing, his fingers pampering your hair as if you were a pet. Stroking you gently.
"Swallow. That's a good girl."
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