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#i shouldn't feel guilty about that.. and in fact i do not
itzsassha · 6 months
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Mr.Reed.... dont look at me like that 🙈💓 ...
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daily-whistlepaw · 1 month
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daily whistlepaw until ah becomes PoV day 1167
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I think I finally understand how people feel when around a crush, can't say I enjoy it
#warrior cats#whistlepaw#windclan#medicine cat apprentice#this isn't my first crush lol but this one has had me feel the strongest of feelings (and might be my first genuine crush lol)#the fact I have been building up A Lot of stress for the entire week probably didn't help.#and the fact my stomach hurt is also probably at least partially to explain by the fact I barely ate last night#but MAN seeing my (latest) crush in such a pretty dress and then go on stage and play (a goddess!!!!!!! she's a goddess)#(I already bought tickets to go see the full thing; I will die but I will die happy (I hope))#but yeah I struggled for a good 2 hours to fall asleep and also had stomach weirdness happening the next morning#man it was not fun#(and then she came to sit next to me during class and I had to play it cool (I was too deranged on sleep deprivation to really care about#being my typical brand of weird but I do sometimes feel like an idiot around her and feel guilty because then I fear that she finds me#annoying and will hate me and I will fail this again (losing a friendship over a crush once was not that fun lol) and Traumas don't help#either at all so uh I'm just trying to spend time with her I just always feel a bit worried that I'm annoying her and it's consuming my bra#I do also still feel a little guilty about having this crush; internalized homophobia/issues around sexuality are hard to shake off#and while it's very normal and stuff I never dare to go the entire way when my brain conjures fantasies that are a little too risqué#I just feel guilty man I know I shouldn't but still it fucking sucks in my brain#and god talking about this in therapy would be a mess#I might have to eventually but I don't wanna#anyways; wild vent in the tags aside; yay a whis!
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zero-ek · 5 months
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Tangentially related to last reblog
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phantaloon · 1 year
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.
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watch-out-it-bites · 27 days
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he said he would stop bothering us since I apologized then like days after he goes on an alt and bothers, or what happened a week ago or so I HATE HIM HFHBBNNJhhrvrvrhhrrrjjjjjjj
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#don't let them see this!#i feel very hypocrite because i'm bad and disgusting and i shouldn't like#i shouldn't be mad at him for that because we're. so very alike.#and i hate that he influenced me and i influenced him and everytime i think of him i feel awful and dirty and bad#i feel like im the bad person and he was right#he hurt himself because of me and i feel. awful for it.#i want him to get better but he terrifies me still#i dont want him to hurt me because i know he could#and then theres the fact that i know it's my fault any of this happened or#just being. very disgusting about it all because fear responses#i hate how i know we both care about eachother in very different weird ways i#i am still very grossed out by some of his messages it makes me feel so ill whenever i read stuff from him#and i hate how hes right about so much and he only is because hes projecting#and because we're alike its judt#ashhghhhgj#i really fucking hate jude#scout speaks#i cant even say he ruined me regardless of how i feel because i was probably always like this#i wish i was a jellyfish#twins in paradise music has been very comforting and today has been very guilty and awful#guilty / shameful ?#why do i linger on this stuff why do i feel so scared hes going to get me why do i??? pluh..#its best not to linger on this qnd i do anyway because i think I'll be safer if i do and all it does is make me feel bad#the actual worst thing is thinking anyone i get close to is him or friends with him and secretly trying to get info on me or hurt me and!!#agh
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kindacreepy-kindaugly · 10 months
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tw in the tags
didn't realize how badly this was affectin me even though it wasn't me
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burins · 5 months
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I know this is the Take Personal Responsibility for Systemic Issues website, but I keep seeing weirdly guilt trippy posts about libraries and ebook licenses, which are a labyrinth from hell and not actually something you personally need to feel guilty about. here are a few facts about ebook licenses you may not know:
in Libby/Overdrive, which currently operates in most US public libraries, ebook licenses vary widely in how much they cost and what their terms are. some ebooks get charged per use, some have a set number of uses before the license runs out, and others have a period of time they're good for (usually 1-2 years) with unlimited checkouts during that period before they expire. these terms are set by the publisher and can also vary from book to book (for instance, a publisher might offer two types of licenses for a book, and we might buy one copy of a book with a set number of uses we want to have but know won't move as much, and another copy with a one year unlimited license for a new bestseller we know will be really moving this year.)
you as a patron have NO way of knowing which is which.
ebook licenses are very expensive compared to physical books! on average they run about 60 bucks a pop, where the same physical book would cost us $10-15 and last us five to ten years (or much longer, if it's a hardcover that doesn't get read a lot.)
if your library uses Hoopla instead, those are all pay per use, which is why many libraries cap checkouts at anywhere between 2-10 per month.
however.
this doesn't mean you shouldn't use ebooks. this doesn't mean you should feel guilty about checking things out! we buy ebook licenses for people to use them, because we know that ebook formats are easier for a lot of people (more accessible, more convenient, easier for people with schedules that don't let them get into the library.) these are resources the library buys for you. this is why we exist. you don't need to feel guilty about using them!
things that are responsible for libraries being underfunded and having to stretch their resources:
government priorities and systemic underfunding of social services that don't turn a profit and aren't easily quantified
our society's failure to value learning and pleasure reading for their own sake
predatory ebook licensing models
things that are not responsible for libraries being underfunded:
individual patron behavior
I promise promise promise that your personal library use is not making or breaking your library's budget. your local politicians are doing that. capitalism is doing that. you are fine.
(if you want to help your local library, the number one thing you can do is to advocate for us! talk to your city or county government about how much you like the library. or call or write emails or letters. advocate for us locally. make sure your state reps know how important the library is to you. there are local advocacy groups in pretty much every state pushing for library priorities. or just ask your local librarian. we like to answer questions!
also, if you're in Massachusetts, bill h3239 would make a huge difference in letting us negotiate ebook prices more fairly. tell your rep to vote for it!)
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unclewaynemunson · 6 months
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Something nameless is growing between Steve and Eddie. Steve wonders how long it'll take until this thing has a name, but for now, it's enough that it's just something. Something good. Something just for them. A secret of the most delicious kind.
He doesn't necessarily want to lie to Dustin, of course, but he doesn't really know what else to do. Not as long as this thing between him and Eddie is still nameless and Dustin is basically cornering him in the Hawkins High parking lot, way too enthusiastic about the fact that he's there to pick up Nancy.
'No, it's not a date, you little shrimp,' he repeats for what feels like the millionth time. And that statement couldn't be more true: he and Nancy are long past their weird post-breakup-end-of-the-world confusion. It's been good to reconnect with her and he's glad that they can truly be good friends, now.
Dustin shoots him an unimpressed glare and Steve groans in frustration when the boy opens his mouth to retort.
'I'm actually seeing someone else,' he says before Dustin can speak again. If he has to hear him say one more time that he should date either Nancy or Robin, he might actually punch him in the face. And he doesn't want to do that. Not really.
Dustin gasps.
'Why didn't you tell me?!'
'Because you're being annoying as shit about my love life,' Steve shoots back.
Dustin already opens his mouth for some smartass reply, but they get interrupted by a high-pitched scream. Steve whips his head only to find Eddie dramatically running towards them, limbs flailing and a huge grin on his face.
'Stevie!' he shouts out while crashing into Steve like a cannonball. Steve huffs, but is all too happy to catch him in his arms. He knows he shouldn't let his touch linger too long, not with Dustin right there, but it's really fucking difficult to pull back within an appropriate timeframe.
'What are you doing here?' Eddie looks hopeful, like he's suspecting that Steve came to the school for him.
'I'm meeting Nancy,' he admits, feeling almost guilty about it.
'He was just telling me about this girl he's seeing!' Dustin exclaims. 'Can you believe he didn't tell me? Did you know about this, Eddie?'
Eddie's smile falls off his face within a split second, and he takes a stumbling step backwards.
'You're seeing a girl?' His voice has gone cold. Betrayal shines from his big brown eyes.
'Eddie,' Steve starts, but he doesn't know what else to say – not with Dustin standing right there and hearing every word of their conversation.
'Go fuck yourself, Harrington.' He spits the words out and turns around, leaving Steve frozen and Dustin open-mouthed.
'Eddie, wait!' Steve calls out behind him, but Eddie only throws his arm up to flip him off, without looking back.
'Shit, fuck, damnit,' Steve mumbles under his breath as he runs after Eddie.
'Eddie, listen.' He grabs his leather-clad arm, but Eddie breaks himself free from Steve's grip with force. He finally looks at Steve again, tears in his eyes.
'I don't wanna hear it,' he says with a trembling voice as he reaches his van and climbs inside.
'But Dustin was–'
'Dustin was pretty damn clear.'
'No, it's all a –'
But Eddie slams the door shut while the word misunderstanding dies on Steve's tongue unheard. Steve watches helplessly how Eddie roughly wipes a hand over his face, puts his keys in the ignition as if he's stabbing someone, and drives off.
'Steve, what the fuck,' Dustin's voice says; when Steve looks to his right, he sees that Dustin has appeared next to him. 'He thought you were his friend! Why didn't you tell him about your girl?' It sounds accusatory, and Steve can't fucking deal with this right now.
'Why didn't you shut your goddamned big mouth for once in your life?' he snaps at him.
Dustin's eyes go wide with the surprise of Steve talking to him with that much venom in his voice; it's clear that he finally realizes he did something wrong.
'Steve, I – I didn't mean to – I didn't know he'd get mad!'
Steve sighs, long and heavy.
'Go home, Henderson,' he says stiffly.
He wishes that the genuinely apologetic look on Dustin's face would be enough to make it all good, but it isn't. Not as long as he still has the look in Eddie's eyes when he drove away burnt on his retina.
'I'm sorry, Steve.' And with slumped shoulders, Dustin turns around and trudges towards the bike racks.
Update: you can read pt2 here
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mirohlayo · 5 months
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hii can u do a lando one where like one of them (lando or reader) kiss in the midle of an argument
hi, of course i can !! i don't know if that's what you wanted but i wrote it more in a cute way, not really angst :)
KISS ME, FORGIVE ME | LN4
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( you and lando had an argument and kissing you seems like the best way for him to settle everything. )
warning: none
note : not really satisfied with it but it's still okay i guess
word count : 1.5k
!! english not my first language !!
you were stubborn yes. but not for too long. you're stubborn because of course your ego is on the line and sure you're too proud to admit it's your fault.
but right now it's not your fault. well, that was your point of view.
you're sure the argument you just had with your boyfriend was not because of you, but him. yes, because of lando norris himself. and you hate when you have to be the one to apologize when it's not even you the problem.
but on the other hand, lando is pretty sure you're the one who started it all. he is stubborn too. he has his own proud and ego too and he knows for sure he'll never let himself being disrespected like that.
but the truth is that this whole argument is just stupid. it is a silly argument. you guys keep complaining over something that is not even a big deal at all.
cleaning and housework are things you and lando talked about before, during the beginning of your relationship. you agreed on the fact that you would switch up the cleaning tasks each week. so like that both of you would take part of the domestic tasks.
it was lando's week. he had to get the laundry done. you were sure about that because housework is very important for you and you really take care of your house's cleanliness. but for him, it was your task. he accidentally forgot that it was his week because of his busy f1 schedule.
and with the jet lag, he completely missed the fact you cleaned the house by yourself those last two weeks. so actually he should do double cleaning duties, but considering he needs a lot of rest after the race season you just leave it to him for this time.
but here you two are, mad at each other. nobody talk, nobody care about the other. just for a silly argument.
lando yelled at you because he was sure you had to clean up the house. when actually he was the one to do it. you yelled back, because of course you are not the one to blame at. and now it's been 3 hours since you last spoke together.
lando is still mad at you of course, but less than you. he thought about the argument during these 3 hours and, he knows it. he's wrong on that. he shouldn't have yelled at you when he's the one at fault. he feels guilty now.
you pass in front of him, walking away in a quick walk. he just looks at you, following you with his puppy eyes. he knows it's his own fault and he blame himself right now.
he wants to apologize. even though he's still a bit mad, he truly needs to apologize to you because deep inside he cares about you and he don't like when you're upset. so he follows you in the bathroom, where the washing machine is in.
he watches you open the washing machine's door and put all the dirty laundry in it, of course with an irritated expression and also making a lot of noise. you look clearly mad and angry, like you are still pissed off.
you can feel lando's presence and intense gaze on you and it gets on your nerves.
lando notices it. he notices that he clearly annoys you now and that you're still mad at him. that's why he wants to help you. he wants to apologize to you and he thinks if he starts by helping you with the laundry it'd be a good idea.
he approaches you carefully and put the others dirty clothes in the laundry basket, sorting the colors at the same time. he wants to do a good job. he extends his hand to grab the detergent but stops when he hear you sigh. "stop acting like you want to help"
he shift his head and look at you. he frowns a little bit. "but that's the point, i want to help" he replies, dismayed. you roll your eyes, you don't even want to hear whatever he's trying to say. "i don't need your help. i guess doing a third cleaning chore won't hurt after all" you coldly answer and glare at him.
you keep putting the clothes in the washing machine and he just stand here, not knowing how to react. "but you should have told me earlier that is was my week !! how could i know it ?" he defends himself, a bit annoyed. "you're a grown man and you don't even know how to follow a cleaning schedule ?"
now you face him, and he can tell you're absolutely irritated. he doesn't like that. "but i race, i have others things to think about !! and i'm tired, of course i can forget that fucking cleaning schedule!" "don't you think i'm tired too ? i also work every day and still i always clean up the house when you're not home !! i do your chores but yet i don't complain"
he stops arguing. he knows he's the one at fault and he already feels guilty, so you adding a layer affects it even more. he genuinely regrets everything he said earlier, he knows he is wrong for that and now all he wants is to apologize and do household chores for the next months.
"you don't even want to admit that it's your fault, or maybe you're too stupid to even reali-"
oh, you didn't expect that.
you feel his lips move on yours. he wraps his muscly arms around your waist and deepen the kiss. and then he pulls back. "i know. i admit it it's my own fault."
you still freeze. what just happened ? you were cutting off by his sudden kiss. you don't even know how to react or what to do, you stay silent for a while, blinking. trying to process everything. "w-what ? you're going to apologize like that ? with a kiss ?" you finally say, not really sure about your sentence but add a roll eyes.
"oh because you want to settle this in the bedroom ?" he says, grinning at you. you frown, confused. but still like that he is able to make you blush, and you slightly slap his chest. "shut the fuck up you".
now your feelings are mixed. you're still a bit mad of course, but the sudden kiss literally change your mood. you love his kisses, so you don't really know how to feel right now. a part of you want to keep playing the annoyed girlfriend but the kiss just changed everything. it seems way easier to forgive him now.
"okay, but still i don't forgive you yet" you pronounce trying to keep your eyebrows down and he grins wider. he quickly leans in and place an other kiss on your lips, softly bitting your lower lip. "and now babe ?" he playfully asks against your pink lips. his eyes are filled with amusement.
you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach, your heart flutters. you avoid eye contact and cross your arms. "no. i'm still mad at you". you genuinely know you already forgave him and all you want is to kiss him back. but you need to make him regret it a little more.
"you really want me huh ?" he whispers and without even realizing it, he's already kissing you once again, but this time more roughly. your back suddenly presses against the washing machine and he strokes your waist with his hands.
but even you can't resist him. you join in the kiss and bury your hands in his curls, playing with them. he lift you up and make you sit on the washing machine, holding you tight. he pulls back, his face still close to your lips, and plant his eyes in yours. he grins at you, and peck your rosy lips because he bites them way too hard.
you shyly smiles at him and can't even look him in the eyes. "i know you can't resist me baby. but that's okay, cause who can actually ?" "i swear you really need to keep your mouth shut" you roll your eyes but grin with him, because maybe he was right. nobody can't resist him, it's a fact.
he gives you a quick kiss again. "now can you accept my precious help and let me do the cleaning tasks with you please ?" you act like you were thinking about it, showing a fake hesitant expression. "please, love. i'll even do the next cleaning session if that's what you want. just let me help you" he begs you with puppy eyes, you obviously had to say yes.
"okay but cuddle me in the bed before. your kisses made me needy" you says and he can't hide his big smile. "whatever my baby wants" he playfully replies and carry you to the bedroom.
you two finish cuddling close in the bed, telling how much you love each other. and maybe also completely forgot about the laundry.
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d3vilcvntz · 12 days
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A secret between us
ftm male character x top male reader
[cw: cheating]
this is wrong, and you both knew it. you shouldn't do this at all, in fact you shouldn't have been drinking tonight. maybe it's the alcohol intoxicating your mind, but you can't seems to stop it now
kissing him so passionately, pushing him down the bed. unbuttoning his shirt, leaving kisses from his neck to his chest, stopping when you got lower. no, you shouldn't do this. this is wrong. all those thoughts dissappear from your head as he grabbed your head to kiss you once again.
whatever, it's too late now. pulling his pants down to reveal the wet patch on his panties. he's so cute, you barely touch him and he's already this wet ! pushing his panties aside to reveal his cunt. you put your finger inside him as you watch his hole swallowed it so easily <3
he whined as he grabbed on your sleeve, stopping you. "undress yourself too" he said with glossy eyes looking at you, he's too cute!you did as he said, unbuttoning your own shirt and unbuckling your belt, leaving only your underwear on. his eyes glued to your clothed cock
"can't wait for it?" you teased him "just put it in already" he whined as he pull on your underwear, revealing your aroused cock. he pour the lube all over your cock as he rubs it. turning him around and grabbing on his hips as you pushed your cock inside his cunt. thrusting slowly, just to get a reaction out of him "do it harder" he basically commands as he moves his hips to push your cock deeper inside
he moans as you finally did as he said, your cock reaches so deep inside him, making his knuckles turns white as he gripped the sheet.
you forgot about your worries for a moment. his hole squeezing on your cock as your thrusts becoming sloppier, you bite his neck, leaving marks behind as he creamed all over your cock. you pulled your cock out of him and came over his back, after all, you don't want to risk anything. he passed out on the bed as you cleaned him up, putting the blanket on top of him
you sat on the side of the bed, where you noticed a framed picture of him and his girlfriend. you stared at the picture, feeling guilty and sorry for her. not that you care though, you're not any better than him.
you quickly got up and dressed yourself, ready to leave. finally turning on your phone just to see bunch of messages from your boyfriend "where are you? i miss you sm :("
a/n; barely a smut lmfao, might do a continuation laterr
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httpisaoki · 1 month
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'till death do us part ft. yu jimin
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sypnosis. after 10 years of marriage, even if it was only an arranged marriage, you thought that she would at least stay loyal. least to say the sounds coming from your shared bedroom last night weren't just nothing. and the moment you shove the divorce papers to her face, she couldn't let you go just like that, can't she? 
tags. domestic au, non-idol au, ceo au, cheating, angst, crying, wlw, marriage
warnings. cheating, arranged marriage, karina CHEATEDDD, oooo you mad mad, crying, ANGST. (that's all i think?)
-> part two. not proofread!
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last night was foggy, karina had woken up naked, her fling right next to your side of the bed, an empty feeling in her stomach. she shouldn't have done that, she thinks, but it's too late. it's happened more than she can count and she knows that the fling she had wasn't going to end anytime soon. she feels guilty but you never liked her, or did you?
Now she stands across from you, the silence in the room makes her nervous. the papers in your hands made her anxious, she couldn't lose you. the tension in the room could be sensed miles away, you were mad--- and she knew it.
it's all clear in the way you stood against the door, a hint of anger radiating off your body. karina was scared, she felt the sweat on her palms, her eyes fixed on those papers on your hands as if she could burn a hole through them if she stared long enough. 
"please... just... wait a moment." she pleaded. 
why should she get her way when she had been the one who betrayed your trust? her infidelity wasn't excusable in any way. "I don't have all day." the  tone of you voice cold, she knew if you was angry— she wouldn’t have a chance.
she wanted to whimper in fear, the coldness of your voice could send her to tears, a tone that would make even the most powerful man cower in fear. she could feel the blood rush out of her face, her legs shaking, she just couldn't let you go. 
and then the moment of realization hit her, the tone of your voice, the way you were standing and the glare of your eyes had reminded her of something, a memory that she'd tried so hard to bury away..
"Please..."
she wanted to cry, but the fear of you turning her down stopped her tears from falling. she'd cheated because of her own problems, her own loneliness, and her own issues but she was still your wife. she was still yours.
she begged again, a tone of desperation in her voice.
the last thing she'd want was to lose you... but she knows it was her fault.
the words that would come out of her mouth right now could make or break your marriage.
she takes a deep breath, looking up at you, trying not to cry from the fear that was rising in her chest, a knot tying in her throat.
"please... i know that i cheated but..."
"stop." the ice in your tone was unforgiving, the lack of patience in those eyes would make just about everyone shut up and listen. you weren't going to be easily manipulated anymore. 
"i don't want to hear it." she flinches at the tone of your voice, her eyes fluttering for a moment before she forces herself to look up again. 
her eyes fill with sadness, those pleading words were stuck in her throat, a lump taking place in her mouth.
"after 10 years, really? I knew this would never work out." the anger in you voice had made her shiver. "but to think that you'd cheat with jaewook, one of my employees too, huh?" the venom in your voice forced out a bitter chuckle. "h-he..." the words stuck in her throat for a minute, she couldn't believe that you knew of her affair partner, then she shook her head slightly. "yes, him.." 
the fact that you knew his name made her want to shrink. your eyes pierced through her, you knew every single detail of this entire ordeal. you knew how often this had happened between the two of them, you knew she had betrayed you the moment she accepted a drink during the business dinner.
her lips parted for a moment, her brain scrambled, panic and fear consumed her. she could see your anger now, you knew everything, she was caught red-handed.  "you...you know everything.." her voice cracked as she spoke. You scoffed, "you didn't think that I'd be stupid enough to not keep tabs on you?" you smiled sarcastically, 
"we had agreed on none of us seeing anyone and being faithful even if our marriage was arranged, right? I had to make sure. and I was right, you didn't stick to your promise, karina." the way her name rolled off your tongue, the tone of disgust as you said it.
the way you had said her name, her own name, with a tone of disgust made her want to sob.  you knew everything, every single detail of this affair, every detail that she thought she'd hidden so brilliantly. 
she gulped, her throat drying out at the fact that you were well aware that she's betrayed your trust. you had kept track of her, you had kept her in your palms the whole time and she was foolish enough to do such thing under your nose.
"beg all you want, I don't care." you spoke harshly, "you know how I don't tolerate cheating." the cruel nature of your response made her flinch. her lips parted for a moment before she said, "don't you care about me? don't you...don't you love me?" 
as much as she was guilty for her infidelity, she still hoped that you liked her, that you cared for her, that you saw her as your wife despite the arranged marriage. but the tone of your voice made it clear that you didn't, that the only thing you were capable of feeling was anger, hate-- disgust.
you scoffed, "why didn't you asked yourself that before you went into bed with him?" a hint of sarcasm in your tone. "don't..." she wanted to sob, the humiliation of you reminding her of her own infidelity was torture. but the fact that she did it to herself was even worse, she was the only one to blame. but it's not like she had done it out of pure lust... no, it was her need of validation-- a need for some form of connection with a man. she'd felt so lonely in the marriage, but that wasn't your fault. she gulped, her eyes fixed on yours as the tears fell.
"Who do you think took you home after all those stressful nights that you drank until you passed out? who do you think supported your company after all those years? was it him or was it me?" your tone was cold but the look in your eyes showed that you were hurt.
"it was you..." she was reminded of all the times you'd picked her up from work after she finished her work, the times you've carried her to bed when she had passed out, the times she'd called you in tears. she owed her success to you, to your support.
a knot took place in her throat but the words couldn't come out, she couldn't find a single excuse for her infidelity. "you did...everything for me."
You hummed, "just because I didn't show it doesn't mean I didn't care. you out of all people should know that." you let out a shaky breath.
she gulped, she couldn't believe that she had thrown away 10 years of marriage for another man. your cold demeanour, your unapproachable nature, all of it was a wall she had slowly started chipping away over the years but the fact that she was the one who initiated that affair was the saddest thing of all. 
"please, I'm sorry..."
"can we give ourselves another chance? please...we can...we can start over..." her knees were nearly giving out at that point, the thought of losing you was far too terrifying. but she was the one to mess up the marriage...
but you had been so kind the whole time, despite the fact you didn't show affection, she could see that you cared in your own way. she just had to prove that she was worthy of your attention-- your love.
"fill out the papers, karina." your voice was soft, wanting to get this over with already, you tossed her the papers. "no...wait..." 
her heart was racing, she couldn't stand this anymore. the thought of losing you was enough to make her knees buckle, her heart sinking to her stomach. but the papers...
they were for the divorce, your divorce papers...
she looked down at them, her fingers trembling, the tears running down her face, and she thought of one thing and one thing alone. 
she should've never cheated.
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-> idk if this is a teaser for an upcoming series of mine or if this is just my karina rip post idk but yeah, thanks for the support !! :)
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iwendix · 29 days
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WE'RE TIED,
WE'RE BOUNDED
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request: "nsfw where we are the bride by obligation of harin and since suji arrived it caught our attention so when suji wants to recruit us to finish the pyramid game one thing leads to another or something like that". | me: well, something like that. maybe I went a little overboard with the size of the sfw part, but I hope you'll still like it!! it's actually my first time writing to request, so I'll try to be get more skilled in the future🫶🏻 |
𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: not proofreaded(probably misspellings, etc), smut with a plot. harin being kinda manipulative. possessive!harin, mentioning of harin's abandonment issues. fingering, rough sex, harin being mad, harin swearing, dom!harin, sub!reader, guilt bringing, guilty!reader, fingering, edging, arranged marriege(mentioned like soon to be thing), harin called reader a bitch a couple of times. y/n using, harin teasingly call reader wife/wifey.
𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀: reader and harin have been connected since their childhood, this is something normal for the children of businessmen and you are both used to it. “You'll get married and our companies will unite, it'll be beneficial!” — that's what you always heard from your parents. though, you liked harin, really and sincerely. but when suji appeared out of nowhere with this idea of her's about destroying harin's game, you saw it as an opportunity. a mistake. you shouldn't have allowed yourself to be blinded by false hope.
you, dayeon and doah — victims of circumstances and as doah once said: “victims of your parents’ ambitions and hunger for success in business". to some extent this was true, because from the moment you were children you had to constantly spend time with harin and each other. no one cared whether you wanted it or not, the main thing was that your parents wanted it that way. doah was never delighted with this situation, but she also never resented it too much, especially openly. she is too rational to be angry about something that she can't change or control. but dayeon is a completely different matter... emotional, hot tempered and in general have absolutely no tolerance to everything that annoyed her. you and doah offen “ground” her so that she doesn’t do or say anything to harin out of emotion that would lead her to being beaten by her father. seems that in your so called friend group you were the most positive about this whole situation. of course, sometimes it made you feel depressed, like you didn't even exist as a person at all, like you only existed as just an appendage to harin. or at least, this is how your father and mother treated you. anyway, you never blamed harin for this, on the contrary, as kids you two got along very well and one even can say that you became attached to harin. maybe this is one of the reasons why you're so resigned to the fact that in the future you'll be obliged to marry her. everything went as usual: harin enjoyed her game, you sometimes spent time together and, as always, she didn't understand od felt the fact that your feelings for her were sincere, genuine and real, hat you really liked her and wasn't around only because your parents told you to be.. well, or maybe she just pretended to don't understand.
your almost calm and already familiar life has changed with the arrival of a new girl. this new girl — son suji, from the very beginning seemed somehow unusual, there was something in her that wasn't in jaeun and other students. it was something decisive, something that screamed about thw problems she can cause. when you find out about her desire to deal with the game, your first thought and instinct was to tell harin as fast as possible.i mean, she loves the game so much!... she loves this game, she finds peace in it, even though, game is leading to violence mostly. It was a difficult choice: let the game be and let harin be happy or join suji and destroy the game, but harin will be devastated. you were thinking about whether you should tell harin about suji's plan but in the end you were able to pull yourself together and keep quiet. you wanted to see harin happy, you really did, and although the game made her happy, it also destroyed her to the same extent. continuing the pyramid game harin only drowned out her pain and put it in the far corner, hiding it so deep that no one could ever reach it. but in fact, this is still the same harin, the same traumatized little girl who can't forgive people for what they did to her. you thought that if the game will end harin would have to face reality, sharply and openly, without all her so painstakingly built protective walls. it would be difficult, but you would be there for her, so it won't be that bad, right?
you tried to be careful, tried not to be suspicious and too obvious but harin is too smart and attentive not to notice your strange behavior and that you suddenly began to spend time with suji and her company. she was watching what was going on with you, she wanted to make sure exactly what you were doing, cuz accusing you of something that you were not involved in would be stupid.
one day harin called you to the principal's office. of course, even the principal herself was not there as often as harin, you, dayeon and doa were there but still. you thought that this was an ordinary meeting of your “group of friends” and when you entered the room you expected to see all three, but to your surprise only harin was here. she was sitting on the headmistress's desk, her legs crossed, and her head tilted to the side, thoughtfully. her fingers hold the cigarette, her lips wrap around the filter and she takes a puff, after a few seconds releasing a stream of smoke, making you wrinkle your nose a little from the smell of nicotine that filled the room. harin's attention switched to you when she heard the door have been opened. she looks at you up and down, as if sizing you, got up from the table and walked to the door. her shoulder brushed against yours, the door is closer. it bothered you a little but you didn't pay too much attention to it. Kharin walked again to the headmistress’s desk, leaned her elbows on it and called you closer. her eyes glare into yours and she shakes off the ashes directly onto the floor and speaks.
"how are you doing lately, wifey?" she says it indifferently, but you can't help but frown a little at her words. did she really just called you "wifey"?... this is a teasing nickname that dayeon and wooyi gave you when they first heard that yours and harin's parents were planning to get you two married. you sighed and just nodded, meaning that you're fine. harin raises an eyebrow at this and takes another drag on the cigarette, her plump, pink lips wrapped around cigarette... focus. you need to focus.
"everything's alright, you say? hm. then tell me, am I blind?"
you confused by her question but shake your head.
"then maybe I'm deaf?"
you shake your head again.
"mhm... do you think I'm stupid then?"
you're even more confused now. "no, of course i don't think so. what are you talking about, harin-ah?..."
harin takes one last drag on her cigarette before throwing it on the floor, stepping on it with the tip of her lacquered shoe and trampling cigarette. her hands rise to the collar of your shirt, first gently touching it, as if simply straightening it, and then she sharply tugs on it, pulling you towards herseld, causing you to stagger, almost falling and yelp, grabbing her shoulder to maintain your balance.
"then why do you think that I don't know what suji is planning? why do you think that I don’t know that you’re involved?" harin clicks her tongue, her hand comes up to your chin, at first just lifting it, forcing you to look into her eyes, and then squeezing it a little. "you know, I trusted you. yes, a little, but it's still more than my trust to others."
you open your mouth to speak, to explain that you didn’t do and didn’t want anything bad for her, but you are interrupted when harin squeezes your chin painfully and interrupts you. "shut up."
you fall silent, just bite the inside of your cheek, trying to distract yourself from the pain in your chin and harin's piercing gaze that digs right into your eyes.
"you know, our parents have been planning our wedding since childhood. uou never had a say in this, did you? mm, but by the way, I was kinda the initiator of this. I once said as a child that I wanted to marry you, and my grandma really took it seriously because it’s good for business. I've always thought that you're a little... more reasonable than dayeon, doa and others, that's why I chose you. i thought all this have some sense and meaning to you too. seems, I was wrong." Harin's grip on your chin weakens and her hand trails to your cheek, stroking it gently. In different situation, you would have been glad of such an affection from her, but now it felt like something empty.
"you wanted to destroy the game, right? destroy the only thing I value? and how can you do this to me, y/n? conscience doesn't gnaw you at all?"
with every word she says, you begin to feel guilt it gathers drop by drop, turning into a whole damn ocean which will overflow its shores if harin continued just a little bit longer and push just a little harder.
"silent? well, of course, of course... maybe that's why your parents don't really care about you." she shrugs as if it was the most normal thing to say. you know that when harin upset she is far from nice, so you're not surprised when she said something like that. besides, you always knew that your parents didn’t really care about you... but still, you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t upset you.
"I'm disappointed." she added, and yeah, you can see it, disappointment etched in her eyes and you can see that she is stressed too. considering her abandonment issues, the fact that you were interested in suji's plan must have hit harin harder than she lets on. suddenly harin grabs your hips and with a sharp movement turns you around, lifting you up and placing you on the principal's desk, almost pinning you to it. her fingers they found a way to the collar of your shirt, simply tearing off the top button, revealing a view of your neck. the tip of the nose touches your neck, and the tongue smoothly traces a line along your vein. she is so close that you can smell her perfume: delicate, sweet, and an admixture of such a sharp aroma of tobacco. this combination of different aroma is already familia her habds gripping your hips almost painfully, forcing you to bite your lip to keep yourself from squeeking. you know that harin is stressed and upset, she needs it. her lips leave imprints of light pink lip gloss on your neck, wet kisses placed all over your neck. her knee move between your legs, pushing your soft thighs apart, and finally her knee presses against your crotch, giving you some friction. a quiet gasp leaves you and at that moment harin nibbled on your neck and sucked on your skin, leaving red mark, which in the future will become a small bruise, she loves to leave hickeys on you, to feel control. she's a little more rough today, more harsh than usually and you understand that you really hurt her, even if you didn't mean to in the first place. harin gets rid of your shirt and pulls your skirt and panties down to your knees. she says that you are already wet, but of course, today she'll torture you a little, she'll make sure you know that she is upset with you. her gentle hands gripping your waist so tightly, that there will probably be a bruises. she pishe you more onto the table making you literally lay on it, she leans over you, her tongue extends from your neck to your collarbones, paying attention to them, and then to your chest. her lips wrap around one of your nipples, first sucking and then squeezing with her teeth and tugging it. you arch your back, the back of your head hitting the table, but you ignore it, just trying to cope with what harin is now doing to your breast. it’s a bit painful, but your nipples are hard, so this treatment aroused you too. though, harin aroused you always, no matter harsh she or gentle.
"harin..." your voice trembled, she interrupted you.
"how could you do this to me, y/n? wanted to leave me? betray for suji? no, you're mine and that's it. you're only for me... I'll keep you that way..." she sounds confident, dominant even, as if trying to clearly highlight that she is in charge now, that you don't decide anything. but there is also a little trembling in her voice, she's not only stressed but also worried too, as if she is trying to onvince herself that she is still in control of the situation and what is happening between you two.
"spread your legs" harin saud sternly and you do as she asked. she frowned. "I said spread your fucking legs!..." you feel slap on your thigh and hard grip on your ass, you squeek and winced in pain but spread your legs further, trying to please her. harin grunted annoyedly. "what a bitch... why can't you just do what I'm telling you to..." she placed her hands on your knees and pushed them appart even more. fortunately, you have been doing gymnastics since childhood and you're flexible, cuz if you didn’t have such a flexible body, you would already be writhing in pain from such a strong pressure. you're already so wet that wetness even covered the table a little. without warning, harin suddenly pushed two fingers into you all the way, you whimpered, intuitively trying to close your legs but harin give you a stern look and you know better than upset her even more, especially since you're the one who upset her so much already. her lips kiss yours deeply, her tongue insistently pushes into your mouth, and her fingers continued pumping inside you. her movements so fast and harsh, deeper with each thrust. feels like like she's going to reach your cervix if keep moving like this. harin feels that you really lack air and takes pity on you a little, interrupting the kiss and giving you a chance to breathe. her fingers curl inside you, hitting all your sensitive spots and coaxing moans out of you.
"fucking!.... take it!..." harin growled and pushed inside you even more, thrusts so deep and hard that even she herself almost breathless. her digits literally knocks whimpers and high pitched moans out of you. your eyes watering and your legs trembling because of intensity of all this. harin feels the walls of your pussy clench around her fingers, her thumb is on your clitoris, massaging it, and her thrusts do not stop. you're literally at the peak, you can almost feel the nearing release.
"don't even think I'll let you cum now. you won't cum, or I'll fuck your brains out. don't fucking make me upset, y/n."
tears run down your cheeks due to overstimulation, you clenching around harin's fingers so much that it's even getting hard for her to move.
"please... harin i can't.... I'm sorry... I won't leave you, i swear, i never ever wanted to even..." you say, trough gasps for air. harin's eyes softenes a little, as well as her grip on your thighs. her soft spot for you getting better of her. harin's lips on yours, the kiss is much more calm and gentle than last, and her thrusts slowed down, becoming more pleasant than painful. you can't take it anymore, your walls clenching around her for the last time and you feel like everything fading away, pure pleasure etching with some pain in your sore muscles. harin pulls her fingers out off your pink and puffy from her harshness pussy, her knuckles all drenched in your juices, white and slick all over. she brings then to your lips.
"such a mess you made... as always. i guess, it's just the way you are, right? just a messy little girl who don't know better than upset her future wife. clean up, and maybe I'll think about letting you speak about what you have to say. after all, you're mine, who else will ever listen to you?"
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lgbtlunaverse · 3 months
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It seems the dash has been talking about the Lan Xichen - Nie Huaisang post-canon dynamics and it's gotten me thinking about how discussion around post-canon Lan Xichen's absolutely horrendous mental state often center around the question of "who is Lan Xichen angry at and who does he feel guilty about" which, at its worst, seperates into 2 camps where according to one side he feels guilty about not protecting jgy and hates the Nies and, on the other side he has completely flipped on jgy and despises him now while being filled with regret towards both nmj and nhs.
And I dislike both of these takes not just because it often feels like people projecting their own Blorbo opinions onto Lan Xichen which is never a fun time but also because that central question is flawed to begin with. It treats anger and guilt like opposing emotions that can't coexist or, if they do, have to compete until one wins and cancels the other out.
And that's not how that... works.
To be clear, the reason why Lan Xichen is so supremely fucked up at the end of the story is that he believes on some level he fucked over everyone in this situation. And, even more importantly, that even with hindsight he can't actually think of what he should have done instead. Every attempt to do better by one seems to involve fucking over the others even more because these people were in conflict with each other and choosing one would mean standing against another
And none of this would actually stop him from feeling angry at any of them. It's not "who is he angry at and who does he feel guilty about" it's: "he is angry at everyone and feels an immediate and bone deep guilt for daring to think badly of them."
Speaking from personal experience here, but feeling like you're not allowed to be angry at someone because you wronged them really doesn't stop the feeling, it just maks you feel like shit for feeling it. And this is all worsened by the fact that what he's in seclusion for is, at the end of the day, a moral question of what he, Lan Xichen, did wrong and every single emotion serves as further proof of the ways he's failed them.
Is he angry at Jin Guangyao, for killing his oldest friend, using Lan xichen's trust in him to do it, and then lying to him about it and countless other things for a decade when Lan Xichen thought of him as the person he trusted the most in the entire world? Yeah. That's a thing people get angry about! Except Jin Guangyao also saved his life and protected and helped him more times than he can count and never ever hurt him and can Lan Xichen say the same? No. He had to clean A-Yao's blood off Shouyue, he has to be haunted by the fact that if he just hadn't listened to Huaisang- hadn't been just like everyone else, in the end, and believed a lie about Jin Guangyao just to think the worst of him- then Jin Guangyao might still be alive.
Is he angry at Huaisang? For orchestrating the death of his best friend? For making him do it? For knowing what the real cause behind Nie Mingjue's death was and never telling him until he found out in the absolute worst way? Absolutely. But didn't Huaisang hide it from him for a reason? Wasn't it his clan's techniques and his personal faith in Jin Guangyao that cost Huaisang his brother? How dare he demand that Huaisang let him in on the secret of his brother's murderer when Lan Xichen is here wondering about how he should have protected that murderer better!
And I do even think he's angry at Nie Mingjue, sometimes I think it's pretty normal to be angry at your friend for kicking your other friend down the stairs and threatening to kill him, even when you know his mind is being poisoned. And years later the last thing he ever saw of Nie Mingjue was Nie Mingjue's thoughtless corpse coming to kill him before Jin Guangyao pushed him away and then proceeded to graphocally snap Jin Guangyao's neck in front of him. And if what he wants to do is protect Jin Guangyao, shouldn't he be mad at Mingjue? Didn't this whole mess start because Jin Guangyao was afraid Nie Mingjue was going to kill him?
Except holy shit, can you imagine? Lan Xichen feels like he personally has Nie Mingjue's blood on his hands. Your oldest friend is killed in front of you and you happily believe it's an accident for 11 years and now you think you have the right to be mad at him? You watched him get worse as he was being poisoned and attributed it to his illness and not to the techniques stolen from your library with the token you give his murderer. Does he think Nie Mingjue knew who he was in that moment and wanted to kill him? That he blamed Lan Xichen for his death? (For the record, I don't. I don't agree with most of what Lan Xichen thinks about himself, but I've been in a self-blame spiral and I know how it feels)
But what was he supposed to do then? Choose Mingjue's side and let A-Yao die? That's also unacceptable. But so is letting Jin Guangyao get away with it. Every single outcome is unacceptable. And really, if Jin Guangyao felt like he had to kill Nie Mingjue to save himself, when it was Lan Xichen who was supposed to keep the peace between them, isn't that another mark of his failure? That he couldn't protect Jin Guangyao well enough that he felt he had to do something so horrible?
But that's not an answer! He's supposed to know what he should have done different, and all he can come up with is "what you were already doing, but without failing this time" He can't pick a side because that means betrayal, but he's already tried not picking a side and it ended like this! There is no right answer, which can only leave him with the idea that he was simply doomed to hurt the people he loved from the start. No wonder the guy looks like shit when we see him post-canon. They put him in a real life trolley problem and gave him the lever as a souvenir.
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gyll-yee-haw · 4 months
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Could you write Donnie crushing on the reader and he walks in while she's in the shower or like changing and he acts like it's nothing, he apologizes and leaves so she can get situated and then that's that BUT he CANNOT forgot about it and he goes home being a perv thinking of how beautiful she is and he gets horny
Donnie doesn't know when to stop
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Absolutely gross, hottest thing I ever wrote. I love pathetic men <3
Warnings: accidentally perv!Donnie, he's OBSESSED with you, masturbation (m), edging, ruined orgasm, he's so sub! it hurts, pain!kink, virgin!Donnie, unprotected sex
Fucking 3k words, looks like Maria doesn't know when to stop EITHER 😭
---
You had to do a school project together and he was losing his mind about it
Like yeah, you were friends and you used to hang out all the time, but only at school
Now he was going TO YOUR HOUSE
It felt so intimate just being there
It was nothing much, but he was so obsessed with you it made him act that ridiculous
He was so nervous that he just couldn't sit still at home, so he decided to head to your place, even though it was a bit earlier than you expected
He thought he could just hang out in front of your house until the time you were expecting him to come
The problem was that your mom was leaving the house and found him seating there
"Oh, you must be Donnie! Y/N is waiting for you, come in!"
He should have said no, that it was still too early, but your mom said you were waiting... so maybe you were ready? He shouldn't keep you waiting
"I'm going to work right now. She's in her room, upstairs." Your mom told him, before closing the door and leaving
So he went upstairs, obviously
You just got out of the shower, and was pacing around the room, a towel wrapped around your body, looking for a cute outfit to wait for Donnie
Your bedroom door was open, since you thought you were alone at home
Donnie was very shy, walking upstairs without making a sound, just thinking about what should he say to you, rehearsing in his mind what kind of greeting would make him sound... not terrified
He stopped immediately when he saw you
It was so wrong to just stand there and stare, but it was impossible not to
He watched as you placed your clothes on the bed, letting the towel fall at your feet
Felt like his blood abandoned his body
It couldn't be real, he must be dreaming...
But it only lasted a few seconds, until you looked towards the door and saw him
You let out a scream, completely horrified
Then you slammed the door shut
"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING HERE? SHOULDN'T YOU BE HERE IN AN HOUR?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry, I swear I didn't... I wasn't trying to... listen." He tried to explain, but he couldn't find the words. He was probably more embarrassed than you. "I think... I think I should go"
"Yeah, you should..." was all you could say, sitting on the floor wondering if you'd ever be brave enough to see his face again
He walked home absolutely heartbroken. He couldn't believe that he had ruined EVERYTHING. Now you thought he was a perv... you'd never talk to him again
He didn't feel anything but shame and sadness until he went to bed that night
I guess that's when the adrenaline rush wore out and he thought about it all
It didn't last more than 15 seconds, but during that time you were completely naked right before his eyes... and so close he could smell the lotion on your body
Maybe he was crazy, but the fact that you were getting ready to see him...
He imagined you applying the lotion to your skin a few minutes before he walked in... you were probably thinking about him while you did so... I mean... you knew he was coming over soon
And as if the thought of you applying the lotion to your body wasn't enough to drive him crazy... now he knew what your body looked like
He shivered as the sight of your tits crossed his mind
His hand slowly traveled to his pants zipper
God, he felt so guilty for doing this, it was so so wrong
But his cock was so so hard :(
Poor baby, was in so much pain
Leaking already!!
But the guilt was eating him alive, you were his friend...
That's why he decided to torture himself a bit, would make it all a little less wrong... if he got some punishment, you know
He started stroking his shaft and he got close so pathetically quick
And then he stopped
His heart raced. He had never edged himself before...
He waited for it to fade, before starting again. And then stopping again as he got closer
It was quite addictive... he started to let it go further each time, stroking himself fast and getting impossibly closer to release, then stopping
His cock was leaking so much that it all sounded like a wet mess, masking his ridiculous moans
He started to imagine you there, doing it, punishing him
"Gonna teach you not to spy on naked girls, you fucking perv"
And he would moan "please, Y/N, I'm so sorry..."
I mean, Donnie has an incredible imagination, it was so convincing that he even cried
All while denying his release over and over and over again
Until he couldn't hold it anymore
It was an accident </3
But his orgasm hit him out of nowhere
He cried out "no no no!" as ropes of cum shot out of his cock
He immediately stopped stroking himself and placed his hand on the base of his cock, squeezing it hard enough to hurt
He ruined his own orgasm :/
And he just laid down there looking like a pathetic mess. Tears on his face, his hand and clothes full of cum but his balls still hurt so much from not finishing it
But now he was so so overstimulated he couldn't even dream about touching himself any time soon
Eventually, he passed out from exhaustion
When he woke up the next day, he felt absolutely sick
How the hell was he supposed to see your face at school
Let's be honest, that wasn't the first time he masturbated thinking about you (number was closest to 100th tbh)
And he could always look you in the eye as if nothing happened afterwards
But it felt different now that... he had seen you for real and you knew that
Oh god... were you mad at him? You probably HATED him
He thought about calling in sick
But some force was dragging him out of that bed
He didn't understand it, but the truth was that his obsession with you grew considerably and he just needed to see you, even if you never spoke a word to him again
And part of him... enjoyed it? The idea of you punishing him like that
So yeah, he went to school that day
But he avoided you like the plague
If he saw you in a corridor, he would run in the opposite direction
Spend so much time hiding from you in the bathroom
But he couldn't hide forever
You sneaked behind him when he was looking for something on his locker
"Donnie?" You called, making him drop everything inside the locker, making a terribly loud noise, everyone looked at him
You bursted into laughter, helping him pick some things up
"Thanks." He said, completely unable to look you in the eyes.
"I think we should talk." You said calmly, after seeing how nervous he was
"Yes. Y/N, please, I can't tell you how fucking sorry I am..." he closed his eyes, cursing himself mentally for being so stupid
"It's okay, Donnie" you placed a hand securely on his shoulder. "It's not your fault. I knew you were coming over, I should have been more careful."
He held his breath as soon as your hand landed on his shoulder. It was like your touch reactivated his memories. Then he was stupid enough to look at you
You were giving him such a sweet, sincere smile
God, you were SO beautiful he felt like dropping to his knees right there
"What if you walked me home today? Then you can stay and we'll work on the project. Forget anything that happened, we need to finish it this week." You asked
"That's... that's a great idea." He nodded, even though he would rather die than go to your house anytime soon
But as soon as he saw how okay you were with everything, he calmed down a little. So your friendship wasn't ruined...
You two caught the bus and talked all the way to your neighborhood, like you always did, nothing seemed to change
Then you walked to your house and he started go get tense again
You noticed and you held his hand as you led him through the house
And it wasn't anything new, you always held his hand when he was nervous
Aww a couple of besties <3
Soon enough, he was in your bedroom, where it all happened the day before
You sat on your bed, grabbing all the books you would need, taking to yourself (cause he wasn't listening) about the ideas you had
While Donnie sat on the floor hallucinating about how that was the exact same spot you left your towel fall the day before
If it was right now, it would fall directly on his lap
Like, he didn't even dare to imagine actually touching you, but he would kill someone to have that towel
He would hump on it like a beast
Again, Donnie's imagination is so good and Donnie doesn't know when to stop
That's the source of 99% of his problems
He felt himself getting hard
"Hey, can I use your bathroom really quick?" He asked, before he started sweating in front of you
You nodded and gave him the directions
He walked in, locked the door and splashed water to his face
How the hell was he supposed to get any work done with a fucking boner on
Maybe he should just take care of it quickly in there
In your bathroom, fuck
The amount of times those walls had witnessed your naked body...
He wondered if you had ever touched yourself in there
Yeah, my boy lost his mind
Started stroking himself fast, he couldn't wait to finish and just get everything done so he could go home
But then..... he had the worst idea ever
Cause after what he discovered last night, he didn't want to finish so fast anymore
He just needed to relieve a bit of the pressure, then he would feel better
His dick would probably soften anyway, then he would do something about it back home
He stroked himself until he was on the edge of spilling... then stopped, shoving his dick inside his pants again and going back to your room
Did I mention it was the worst idea ever?
Cause he walked into the room to find you laying in bed on your belly, uniform skirt barely covering your ass
You were focused on whatever you were reading, pen in your mouth
"Come here." You called, without looking at him
He walked back to where he was sitting before, on the floor, but stopped when you said: "no, come sit on the bed, I wanna show you something"
He wanted to say 'oh no, I'm more comfortable on the floor :)' but who the fuck would buy that
He swallowed hard and sat at the very edge of the bed
He didn't want to look, but he could see your pretty little baby blue panties from that angle
And he felt like crying
"I think I have to use the bathroom again." He blurted out loud
"Donnie." You sighed, sitting down next to him. "Are you okay? You've been acting so weird today..."
He knew it wasn't a great opportunity, but it was... an opportunity. One he never had before
"No, I'm not." He admitted. "I have the biggest fucking crush in the world on you. Always had. Since we first met."
"Oh Donnie, you're so silly." You chuckled. "I know that, I asked you what's wrong with you today."
"What do you mean you know that?" His eyes widened.
"It's as obvious as that boner you're trying to cover with your hands" you shrugged
My boy was absolutely flabbergasted
He went through all shades of red the human eye can catch
"You know..." you sat a little closer to him, taking his hands in yours. "Yesterday I was so excited that you were coming over... I wanted to dress up all cute. Picked up a time we would be here alone... thought that maybe, by the end of the afternoon, I'd get you to take my clothes off. I just didn't expect you to catch me without them already... that's why I was so upset, I wanted to take things slow, you know."
He was pretty sure it was all still part of his hallucinations, there was no way you were saying that
You looked down to his pants and you could literally see his cock throbbing
And he caught the way you squeezed your tights at that
"Can I kiss you? Please..." he murmured
"Yes, Donnie." You smiled, leaning close to his lips
It was the sweetest kiss in the world
Until your hand 'accidentally' bumped into his boner :(
And he moaned against your mouth
God, that made you feral
"Donnie, baby, let me help you, you look like you're in so much pain..."
His heart raced... it was like you KNEW
Like you knew exactly what he was into
But let's be honest, he was so horny he was into absolutely everything at the moment
"You don't- you don't have to" he smiled shyly
The most beautiful smile in the world, how could you not want to??
"I'm gonna take care of you, okay?" You said as you slowly unbuttoned his jeans
When his cock jumped free before your eyes, both of you could have cried. Him, from relief. You from the most absolute desire
"Tell me what you like, baby" You began stroking him slowly
"Huh?" He got all nervous. Everyone already thought he was a freak, he didn't need you to think the same. "I-I like you..."
"Yeah?" You smiled at him. "I like you too. You're so sweet, Donnie, can I ask you something?"
He nodded, bitting him lips to prevent loud moans to escape.
"Has anyone ever sat on this pretty cock?" You asked, giving him your best doe eyes
"No..." he admitted, a little embarrassed
Before you could say anything, he grabbed your hand, screaming "stop, please, stop..."
You stopped everything, putting both hands in the air and looking at him wide eyed
"I'm so sorry, Donnie... fuck, you didn't want this? You should have told me, baby, you don't ever have to..."
"No... I wanted this. I wanted this for so long... I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you..." He said. "I just... I was about to cum."
"Well..." you laughed at him. "Isn't that kind of the point?"
Shit.
"Tell me what's on your mind, baby, I wanna help." You offered, seeing how his cock was rock hard and extremely unsatisfied
"It's just that... I like to... hold it sometimes, you know? Feels really good." He admitted, absolutely ashamed of himself
Those words, on that shy tone of his, sent a shiver down your entire body
"Donnie..." you basically moaned his name. "You're so perfect... I can't express how badly I want you, fuck..."
He smiled widely. You kissed that shit out of that gorgeous smile
When you realized, you were already straddling him
"Can I sit on your cock, please? I swear I won't let you cum until you beg me, okay?" You asked
He never agreed to anything that fast, my boy was in HEAVEN
You removed your panties and he helped you slowly sink on his cock
You don't remember ever being that wet before, but it still hurt a bit, because he was so big :)
He was so horny he felt like he might pass out
And then you started moving up and down, up and down
Oh sweet baby boy cried again :(
I mean... all that was happening would be enough to get him desperate, but let's not forget how last night all he got was half of the worst orgasm ever
My boy was starving
"Please, please, stop, I..." he said, and you immediately stopped everything
"Oh baby..." you brought a hand to his face, wiping his tears. "Stop torturing yourself... three times in a row? Let go for me, baby, come on... can I make you cum? Please?"
Yeah, you said you were gonna make him beg, but you were the one who did it, i know
It's just that... Donnie is just a little baby who doesn't know when to stop :(
Of course he said yes, you asked so politely
You removed his cock from you, cause letting him cum inside would be too much for the first time
Considering the state he was in, it could send him to a coma lol
You stroked him so good, prasing him the entire time
"You look so pretty right now, baby, all fucked up for me"
"Come on, I want you go let go for me, you can do it, baby, you deserve it..."
Fuck, he never came that fucking hard in his life
You kept stroking and he kept shooting him load, all over your school uniform :/
He cried out so beautifully and you swore he wasn't coming down ever, he came so muchhh <333
And he just likes the pain of you still stroking his sensitive cock after it was over
Yeah, Donnie doesn't know when to stop :(
417 notes · View notes
luveline · 1 year
Text
𝐚 𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫
You're not sure you're ready to come back. Hotch has total faith in you. Or, your transition back into the team after your abduction doesn't go as smoothly as you'd hoped. 
6k words, fem!reader, bau!reader, some mutual pining, reader is suffering from effects of ptsd, allusions to kidnapping + torture, hurt/comfort, hotch has a soft spot for you (as do most of the team)
༺༻
Reid was abducted, once. 
You can remember the anxiety of it like a hand around your throat. It feels cruel to say that his abduction and torture had effected you more than if it had been a stranger, but you meet so many people, so many victims of cruelty, that the fear starts to blunt. 
Though it doesn't blur. You find it impossible to forget the people that you've failed, and failing a team mate? That had been excruciating. 
Only when you'd been taken yourself had you realised it wasn't a failure at all. 
You wish the others would understand that. 
"Are you feeling okay?" Prentiss asks as you sit down. 
You suppose you had gone down a bit hard. "Mm?" you hum in question, pulling a copy of the initial case file toward you. 
"You looked a little wobbly." 
"Long night?" Morgan asks.
There's both sympathy and mirth in his voice. If you did have a long night, it wouldn’t be from anything fun. He knows that. Everybody knows that. That's why they're treating you like glass. 
"I actually slept really well," you say softly, returning his smile with one that's entirely genuine. 
"That's good, considering," he says, bracing his forearm against the conference table. 
He's been your number one supporter since you came back. Probably because he feels very guilty about what happened. You'd been paired up at the time. 
"Actually, it's common for people who've been abducted to sleep incredibly well for a long period afterward. It's similar to the leisure sickness phenomena- Your body would have been in defence mode, and-" 
"Reid," Hotch says firmly, stepping into the room with his usual lowbrow. 
"Sorry." 
And the spiel begins. JJ lays out the details of the case she's triaged and the team gives their first input. The barest beginnings of a working theory. You try to contribute and find your tongue a leaden weight in your mouth. Ever since you got back, you've been useless. 
You can't do your job, but thank god you can sleep at night, right? 
You miss the start of his sentence, your focus latching onto Hotch's conclusive, "Wheels up in thirty." 
Your team are standing in seconds, trained in the art of quick departures. You used to be good at this part. You're a good agent, even when you're a mediocre profiler. 
"L/N?" 
You blink. "Mm?" you hum, meeting your unit chief's concerned look with a perfected blasé. 
You've come to a stand in front of the table, and everyone else has left. It's you and Hotch alone. 
"If you're not ready to go back into the field, that's okay." 
If you were Reid, or Prentiss, or especially Morgan, you'd get defensive here, and you would lie well, but you’re a bad liar and Hotch is a great detector for them, so you tell the truth. 
"I'm not sure that I'm ready, but I'd like to go. I won't be a burden. I can work effectively." 
"I know you won't be a burden." 
You tilt your head to one side and feel your hair shift over your thick sweater. You haven't felt like showing much skin, lately. Everybody has noticed, because they notice everything, and nobody has made you feel bad about it. In fact, your fellow agents have made numerous comments about the chilly weather. It's July. 
Hotch's eyes fall to your long sleeves for a split-second. 
"Do you think he's alive?" you ask.
"Sorry?" 
You nod your head toward the board, where the portrait of your kidnapping victim hangs in full colour. "Do you think he's alive?" 
"Unless there's evidence that would suggest otherwise, we shouldn't assume. You know that." 
"I know that that's the answer you're used to giving." 
His voice goes too soft, like he's talking to somebody in grief. "I think he is." 
You honestly can't stand it when he talks to you like this. You tilt your head a little further and see him the way he'd been that morning, his tenderness, his fear. He'd opened the door and suddenly you'd known you were safe. 
He hasn't looked at you right since he found you.
"I have all my best clothes in my go-bag," you offer. 
"Well, go get it. This might be a long one." 
The jet is a really nice jet. 
It's hard not to feel impressed by it. It's a vehicle that can take you from one crime scene to another, and it's a necessary expense, but it feels lavish. The clean smells, the comfort, the kitchenette. It has a full-sized toilet. 
"Missed this?" Morgan asks knowingly. 
You wheedle your way into one of the four seats surrounding the main table and smile when he drops down next to you. "Missed using you as my personal pillow, maybe," you tease. 
"Table hogs," Prentiss complains, sitting on the armrest of the couch in defeat. 
You laugh under your breath. Morgan pulls out his laptop and turns the screen so everyone can see Garcia, and as soon as the jet's taken off the second round of speculation begins. 
You regret sitting where you had quickly. You can feel Hotch's analysing gaze where he sits opposite. He doesn't believe you're ready to come back. 
You lick your lips.
"Why would she cut him open just to kill him straight afterward?" JJ asks. "I mean, if she didn't assault him?" 
"It's unlikely that she's a sadist," Reid infers. 
"Disembowelment is a pretty painful, horrific way to die. Maybe she realised that and killed him," Morgan suggests. 
"Remorse?" you murmur. "Could mean she's… younger. And revenge killers don't always see it through." 
"Why take another one if you can't commit to the first?" Prentiss asks. 
"Maybe that's why she took him. She wants time to work herself up," you mutter. 
You hide your hands under the table. It's hard to ignore the similarities with the current case and the one you're investigating. The unsub who'd taken you had been narcissistic and self-righteous, punishing the BAU for stopping her second murder — you'd predicted her next victim and moved him before she could take him. 
So her victimology had changed, and she'd stolen you. 
She couldn't commit to her first session of torture: hesitant cuts, loose ligatures. By your turn she'd improved, but her tentative resolve had remained and she'd run after three days. It's the worst thing she could've done, buying herself less than a week on the run and leaving you with no outside communication. 
You'd almost died of dehydration. 
"She's choosing from a specific group," Reid says. He holds up a photograph of the first victim. He'd been murdered in his bedroom, and the walls are plastered in playboy. Kill all men has been written across his forehead in red lipstick. "Our abductee, he was wearing a t-shirt featuring popular bikini model Miss Olympia. In a state of undress." 
“Is that specific?” Prentiss asks wryly.
"She's angry," you say. 
Hotch leans forward and clicks Garcia's call button. "Garcia?"  
"Sir." 
"Are there any prolific feminist groups in the area? Radicals?" 
They fall into conversation, a pulling and pushing of information. Something about online forums, flame wars, political arguments. 
It's not the strongest theory in the world but they can make it work. You should be making it work with them. 
The flight is an early morning longhaul to Idaho and you work the case the entire time you're in the air. There's an abundance of coffee that you reject because you're worried it'll rehash your on-again off-again migraine, and while your teammates are offering theories, intertwining details with bright eyes and bushy tails, you struggle to keep up. 
There's a lull before landing where everybody parts ways. JJ moves to sit with Prentiss where they talk in hushed but conspicuous giggles. You hear the words Will and dishes and back rub and decide to stop listening for your own sake. 
Morgan laughs, having heard what you just heard and liking it a far deal more, and stands. "Coffee?" he asks as you yawn.
You shake your head sluggishly. "Be quick, we'll be landing soon." 
"I know, sweetheart, I heard the same announcement as you." He takes your empty water glass with a supportive squint. "Let me get you another." 
"Thanks." 
You'd regretted your seat as soon as you'd taken it, the feeling of being boxed in having grown and grown over the course of the journey, and Morgan’s brief departure gives you some much needed space.
You squeeze your hands together until your knuckles ache. 
"L/N?" 
Hotch is looking at you. You know exactly what he sees. Someone who isn't ready to be back in the field. Someone who isn't being effective, as you'd promised. 
"You okay?" 
"Just warm,” you lie, pushing your hair away from your neck. 
You're a bad liar. He gets up to turn on the air conditioning anyway. 
You slouch down in your chair and pretend to nap for the rest of the flight. 
Crime scenes where people died smell bad. It's a fact. They smell like pee, the sharp stick of ammonia, and the metallic aftertaste of blood. You're trying hard not to fall into your own memories of the two. 
You need to move past what happened. The only way you're gonna be able to do that is to re-desensitise yourself, and that includes volunteering for the nasty stuff when Hotch tries to relegate you to questioning witnesses. 
"I'm not good at interviews," you'd said plainly. 
And he'd taken it for what it was and let you do what you usually do: you look for clues. If anybody could hear you think that you'd be ridiculed, but they can't. You enjoy yourself. 
Let's Scooby Doo this bitch. 
"Careful," Hotch says, holding a hand near your hip. You'd almost stepped into the largest puddle of blood still wet in the very middle. 
Right. He'd let you take the gross job but now you're being babysat. 
What did she do in this room? Why did she kill him here but abduct the second man? 
"If it weren't for the photos, I'd never link this victimology," you confess. 
The photos. The unsub had sent pictures of her abductee with Kill all men written across his forehead. In lipstick. 
What changed the MO? Why kill the first at home and steal the second? 
The political theory feels more plausible. 
"I think you would've." Hotch casts his gaze over the desk. "This is a messy one. Opportunistic but personal. Our unsub, she…" His voice turns to a mutter, as it tends to do when he hits a roadblock. "She wants attention, because the first murder didn't do what she'd hoped." 
"What is she hoping for?" 
He picks up a piece of coloured paper and holds it up to his chest so you can see it. It's a flyer for speed dating at a Café Martini, every Friday at 6PM. 
"Where was Paul last seen?" you ask. 
"Good question." 
He takes his phone from his pocket to call Garcia. 
You listen to their conversation for a while, his serious questions and her flirtatious answers. 
You look back to the floor and push the white toe of your tennis shoe into the rug until the rubber's red with blood. It's not good practice. You're now a walking biohazard. Why is the blood still wet? It should've sunk into the carpeting hours ago. How much did he bleed? 
When you'd been abducted your unsub hadn't been keen on torture. She'd made small, quick cuts over your upper arms, more to punish you than because she truly enjoyed it, and she'd hit something important by accident. 
The blood had pooled in the crook of your elbow. It had stayed wet for a long time. You remember trying to clean yourself up with your t-shirt, too drugged up to move right, and eventually the drugs had worn off and it had really, really hurt. 
This boy had been cut from hip to hip. 
"Maybe you should go sit in the car," Hotch says. 
"Why?" 
"I've been talking to you."
"I've been listening." 
"Don't lie." Hotch takes a step forward, black shoe close to your white. "Look at me." 
You look up, eyebrows raised as you try to blink yourself awake. His eye contact is something you've always struggled to hold, knowing he's learning a lot more from your expression than you are from his. You press the backs of your hands to your cheeks and find them hot with embarrassment. 
"I'm really sorry," you apologise, eyes aching. Not burning, just aching. Like a bruise. 
Hotch nods, expression impassive. "It's okay. Go sit in the car." 
He outranks you as an SSA, he's your boss for every intent and purpose. He's your friend, sometimes, and you've yet to see him make a bad call. You listen and go back out and down to the car. You've already broken your promise not to be a burden. 
Best to play along and play well. You don't want a desk job. You don't want to lose the team. 
In the car, things feel better. It smells like new and you take some time to breathe it in with slow, deep breaths. The pine tree air freshener hanging from the rear view mirror is still soft and wet to touch. You rub it between two fingers, pensive, until Hotch appears from the house. He looks severe and solemn as usual when he opens the car door and climbs inside. 
"Tell me if you can't do this," he says. He never beats around the bush. You wish that he would. 
"I don't know." 
"I need a yes or no." 
You're screaming at yourself to say yes. Hotch stalls with his hand poised at the ignition, waiting for your answer before he turns the key. If you say no, I can't do this, he'll take you back to the room. You know he won't hold it against you because he'd tried to persuade you to take more time off, as much as you needed. 
Being alone reminds you too much of your abduction. You hate how you can't stop thinking about it. At work, at home. What if this is it? This is the only thing you're going to think of for the rest of your life. 
Unless you can get some new memories. 
"I can do this." 
"I know that. Do you know that?" he asks firmly. 
You lean your head back against the headrest and turn your face to look at him fully. You hadn't been expecting any praise, any softness. You're fucking up on a time-sensitive case — he should be reprimanding you. He should send you packing to Virginia. 
"I'm sorry," you say softly.
"For what?" he asks. His eyebrows pinch up at the starts, his lips curve into a frown. 
It's startling to see so much emotion on his face on the job; Aaron Hotchner has a switch. He comes to work and he turns off everything that doesn't help the case. Only on rare occasions do you get to see him as a friend — his laughter over group dinner dates, his gentle smiles when he'd kept you company in the hospital. 
"For being- For being disorganised," you explain choppily. It is not the right word. 
He turns the key and reverses out of the parking space before speaking. "You are an asset to this team. If you can't be an asset right now, that's fine. If you need to go home-" 
"I don't need to go home." 
He doesn't seem offended at being interrupted. "Your wellbeing is more important than your effectiveness as a profiler. But you can't get in the way." 
"I won't." 
"I know you won't. Just…" He pulls his phone out of his pocket, dials a number. He's not looking at you when he finishes, "Calm down. Stay present. We need you with us." 
You turn your face to the window so he can't see your smile. He hasn't been this nice to you since your birthday. 
The thirty six hour mark comes to pass quickly and you find yourselves no closer to a positive ID on the unsub or their location. Any leads you follow dry up, witnesses won't cooperate, nobody has slept properly (besides yourself), and the boy's parents are hysterical. Hysterical and an irritant. 
You can hear them arguing with Hotch and the police chief in the other room. 
"You look amazing," JJ says tiredly. You can't tell if her annoyance is genuine or not. 
"Did you sleep?" you ask. 
JJ looks amazing herself despite what she might say, all perfect skin and lovely blonde hair like a moving sheet of silver-gold. You revere her pretty thin sweater with poorly hidden envy as she yawns and stretches against her straight-backed chair. 
"I slept. Bed was about as comfy as this chair," she says ruefully. 
"Ninety percent of all abduction victims are killed within the first thirty-six hours," Hotch says as he enters the room, in what Morgan would call his drill sergeant's drawl. "Every hour past that point, the percentage increases." 
Everybody in the room knows that statistic. His passive aggressive reminder serves to electrify a dozing Reid and a slumped Prentiss, both of which sit up in their chairs and pretend to be busier than they are as he makes his way into the room.
"Actually," Reid whispers to you, voice rough with fatigue, "the math isn't that simple." 
"Do you want to explain it to me?" you whisper back. 
You can't admit to really truly listening to Reid's explanation. You want him to feel heard even when you don't have the capacity for it, so you nod and hum as he explains, heads bent together as the rest of the team trade new theories. He talks surprisingly quickly for all his fatigue, and before you've realised it he's talking about something new. 
"Reid," you intrerupt gently, "can I ask you a question?" 
"Go ahead." 
You look up. Everyone seems too busy to be listening to you. You take what semblance of privacy you can and push your chair an inch closer. 
"Do you think I've been an efficient agent these last two days?" 
He juts his head forward. "You've been distracted. Tired, unfocused. But your insight on the unsub's age and what you said about her propensity for regret are both incomparable parts of the profile." 
"But easily something someone else would've suggested?" 
"Not necessarily." He smiles at you, a mirthful quirk. "Psychologically, the effect that working a case so close to your own trauma," — you bite your tongue in surprise — "would render the average person prone with memory. It also gives you a thought pattern that not everybody else would have." 
"You have it." 
"Let's focus on the behaviour pattern," Hotch says. 
You'd agreed to run point today. Or rather, Hotch had said, "L/N, you'll run point," and you hadn't argued. After all, yesterday had been telling on how much you can handle. Crime scenes are a no go. 
Not that there's any crime scene left to analyse. Your team have spent hours and hours trying to draw blood from stone. The case hadn't felt so impossible on the jet, and now… 
"I'm benched," you murmur. 
"You're not benched," Morgan says, which is irksome because you'd been talking to Reid. "If you were benched you'd be back in Virginia typing up my paperwork." 
"She doesn't care about the crime scene, she doesn't care about the crime itself. There's nothing in it for her besides making a statement. So why take a hostage with no ransom, no instruction? Why tell us you have a hostage and cut communication?" 
You rub your eyes at Reid's questions and find you have no theories to offer. You have nothing. 
"Work the problem," you mumble to yourself. "Work the problem. Where would she go?" 
She cut that boy from hip to hip. She killed him quickly after rather than leave him in pain, but she disembowelled him for the statement it would make. For the… mess? 
You feel off-kilter enough to stand. You weave through people and hesitate in front of Hotch where he's reading over the timeline, waiting for his face to turn before you talk. 
"Hotch," you say tentatively, "what if she's like… an arsonist? Disemboweling is messy. The blood was still wet when we got here two days later, and it ruined the floor." 
He thinks for a second. "Her escalation from a private mess to a public one would make sense."
"We thought the pathway from murder to taking a hostage was a step backwards, but what if it's not about the murder at all, it's about the blood?"
"It's common for arsonists to suffer paternal violence," Reid chimes in. "Could explain the unsub targeting men with outward misogynistic attitudes." 
You turn to find the whole team looking at you, a familiar drive on each of their faces. 
They rebuild the profile. Reid fiddles with what you've said, they specify, they redirect. 
Your moment of clarity dissolves quickly but you try to help as they move on to possible locations. If the unsub wants to make a scene, light a metaphorical fire, there are plenty of places she can do it this weekend. 
Surprise surprise, Garcia confirms a 'men's rights' rally happening in around two hours, and suddenly everybody's in motion. Hotch lists instructions and the team disperses. You've done it all a hundred times before, Hotch quadruple that, Rossi octuple.
"L/N," Hotch says. 
You lift your face to his. 
He's really quite close. 
"Do you want to stay here?"
You take note of his wording. Do you want to stay here? 
His phone is already in his hand. You don't wanna waste anymore of his time. You're pretty useless during movements anyways. 
"Is that okay?" you ask. 
He doesn't say yes or no, his head doesn't give the slightest nod or shake. His eyebrows remain in their usual pushed down position. "Expand the profile. Make sure we haven't missed anything." In case the unsub isn't where you think. 
And then he leaves. 
You take your seat at a now hastily vacated table and spend an hour on the laptop with Garcia. She's mostly at the beck and call of the rest of the team, but it's nice to listen to her clicking away. 
She hangs up when the team are about to storm the rally venue and things get difficult. 
You'd passed all your psych evaluations to return. You can be an effective agent. You can work. 
You know all of this. 
It won't stick. 
You don't have a clue how long you spend staring at the table when your phone starts to ring. "Morgan?" you ask, pressing the screen to your cheek. 
"Hey, sweetheart, we got her. And Paul, safe and sound. You ready to go home?" 
"Uh," you say, trying to understand what he's said. "I'm not sure." Your migraine is coming back. 
When a person gets dehydrated your head starts to pound. It's like a heartbeat, a pulsing ache at the base of your skull and your temples. 
You know that it's all in your head, but ever since you got back you've been victim to what feels like a hundred headaches. 
Your head hurts, and you look at the floor and suddenly the floor isn't the dull blue carpeting of the police station, but the plywood of your unsub's warehouse. 
"Are you there?" 
"Morgan, I don't feel well," you say. Your mouth is full of cotton. 
"What?" 
You cast your gaze around the room. 
You leave your phone on the table, unsure if you've hung up, and make your way out of the conference room they've delegated to the BAU. You're in two minds. You know where you are, and who you are, but you feel like you're back there. The walls look like the police station walls but the floor looks like the base plywood of the warehouse. 
I'm just thirsty, you think. When you'd been kidnapped you'd become dehydrated somewhere between the fourth and fifth day, and that had come with some minor auditory and visual hallucinations. Dark spots in your peripherals shaped mildly like people, murmurings that could've been the cicadas. Right now, there's a low pitched ringing in your ears. I'm dehydrated. I'm fine. I need a drink, and I'll be okay. 
You don't have the facilities to smile at the people you pass, easing your way through officers and into an empty break room. There's nobody here. 
You round the table in the middle of the room and move to the cabinets and the sink basin. You take a mug into shaking hands and turn the faucet on. 
The water is frigid and soon your fingers are like ice. You part them in the stream, watching the water worm down your palms and wet the cuffs of your sleeves. 
"Agent L/N, is everything okay?" 
You turn with a smile, ready to assuage any fears, but it's her. 
It's obviously not her. It's not her, but she looks like her. Same face, same hair. You turn back to sink and fill your mug. 
"Agent L/N?" 
"Please," you say quietly. 
"Agent L/N?" 
"Detective, would you excuse us?" 
His voice. Your shoulders relax just enough to ease the ache in your neck. You hear the woman depart, but you're disorientated enough to ask, "Is she still here?" 
"She's not here." 
“She looked-“ like her. You press your wet hands to the bottom of the sink. It's silver and covered in scratches, a thousand scratches that glow white with the fluorescents. "I don't think I should be here," you mumble. 
"I think you're overwhelmed." 
"I am." You cringe at the numbness spreading up your arms. "I don't know how to make it go away." 
Hotch isn't just your boss. He's a father. He was a husband. He knows how to comfort somebody and he's proven that to you already, but you're still surprised when he pulls your hands out of the sink. He holds both in one palm while he turns off the faucet, and then he tears off a wad of paper towels and starts to dry your fingers. 
"You're not in any danger here," he says, turning your hands palm up. "There are a wall of people out there who would stand in front of you. Nothing is going to happen to you." 
Despite his careful reassurances you're curling in on yourself, trying to hide. You don't want to be here. You're not sure where you want to be. You have the self-awareness to know you're being awful, that this is embarrassing, and you've put Hotch in a position he likely doesn't want to be in, too.  
You blink at his chest. "Where's your suit jacket?" you ask. Your voice sounds far away in one ear and too loud in the other. 
"I left it in the car," he says lightly. "We just got back from the rally. You were waiting for us here." 
"I didn't go." 
"No. You haven't been at your best." 
"I'm trying." 
"I know," he says softly, thumbs rubbing over your warming fingers. "I know you are. You're doing really well. Why don't we sit down?" 
You let him lead you backward into a hard-backed chair. He doesn't sit with you, but he doesn't let go of your hands. They're limp in his and smaller, colder. 
You think he might be the only thing keeping you here. 
"I've never been that scared before. I've had a… gun to my head and… it wasn't even her-" You choke on it. "Her. She hurt me and it wasn't even the worst part." 
He frowns down at you. "What was the worst part?" 
You let your fingers unfurl across his open palm. He pulls your hands to his chest, sandwiches them between his own hands and his crisp white shirt. His tie feels silky soft. 
"I didn't want to be alone. I," — you close your eyes and press your chin to your chest, hiding, always hiding — "knew I wasn't going to last long by myself. I could see that bottle of water on the table and I couldn't reach it and I just kept waiting for somebody to open the door and pass it to me, and I was so scared that nobody was ever going to do that.
"I close my eyes and- and I see it. I see the wood flooring, and I see the table. I can't remember anything that she said to me anymore, but I remember thinking you weren't ever coming to get me." 
You can see the way the light from a crack in the corrugated roof had lit the water bottle up like a lamp. You barely have to think about it and the image of it is there. Your mouth had ached.
You can see him if you try a little harder. The door flying open. Hotch in his vest with his hair falling onto his forehead, a gun in one hand and a flashlight held high in the other. His broad, quick sweep, and then the way he'd leapt for you. His voice, shouting, screaming instructions. You can feel his hand behind your head, his fingers pushed roughly into your hair. 
"You're okay," he'd said. 
You trust him with your life. You've never had cause to doubt him. But you hadn't believed him then, and you're not sure you do now. 
His expression changes slowly. He moves both of your hands into one of his own and squeezes them reassuringly as he cups your cheek. It's a quick touch, a half-second of contact. 
"You made a mistake, in that case," he says, hand moving from your cheek to the hill of your shoulder. 
You tamp down a wince. "Yeah." He's being generous. You'd made hundreds of mistakes. Every opportunity to save yourself wasted. 
"Your mistake," he says, holding your eye, his voice gritty with severity, "was thinking I wouldn't find you.”
He turns to a blur the longer you stare at him, panicked tears welling up with nowhere to go. You tip your head forward so he can't see them, and he steps closer in turn, ushering your face into his abdomen. 
His hand falls to your trembling back. 
"That was your only error. You did everything else right." 
Your tears come thick and fast. Hotch doesn't baulk. 
You agree to take some more time off. 
Realistically, you can't be an effective agent or a reliable member of the team whilst smothered in memories as you are. You don't take it personally when Hotch insists, as he takes great care to explain to you what's happening. 
This isn't a punishment. You need more time. 
You're a safety risk. Not that your consultation isn't valuable, it is, you're still a good profiler — an amazing profiler, if your team are to be believed — but you're in the aftershocks of a traumatic event. 
A wound can't heal if it's being picked at. 
"He said that?" you ask quietly, bed sheets upto your chin. 
Hotch's voice rings scratchy with tiredness down the line, "He said you can have all of the blue ones." 
"He's generous. He gets that from his dad." 
"He's much kinder than I am." You hear a small voice on the other end, and then a muffled, "Yeah, g-man, I'll tell her. I'll tell her right now. Okay. Y/N?" 
"Yeah, still here." 
"Jack says," he recounts, parent tone in play that tells you his son is nearby, "that you can have all the blue and all of the green band-aids, if you need them." 
You stare up at the white plaster ceiling of your apartment, a tiny smile playing on your lips. 
"Tell him I said thank you. I'm sure they'll make me all better in no time." 
He tells Jack what you've said. You hear his lovely voice saying something too quiet. "What was that?" Hotch asks him. 
"I said," Jack says, voice close to the receiver, "she just needs a kiss because they always make me feel better." 
"I've been getting lots of kisses!" you promise him, turning to look at your nightstand. 
Propped up proudly is a picture of you and your team in that restaurant in Las Vegas, where Reid hadn't been able to use his chopsticks, and where Hotch had laughed so loudly you'd felt your heart skip twice. It's surrounded by a sea of 'Get Well Soon' cards, and backdropped by a small bouquet of sweetpeas. 
Tell me when they wilt, Reid had said. And I'll get you another bunch. It's been proven that flowers have a long term positive effect on moods. People who received flowers regularly reported less agitation, less depression, and an overall sense of satisfaction. 
Beside the sweetpeas, in pride of place, is a handmade card from none other than Jack himself, though the message inside was penned by an older hand. 
"I'm well looked after," you say, smiling softly. 
"You're well loved," Hotch adds. 
That, too. 
༺༻
again, im not that used to writing hotch so despite my character study he may feel a little ooc that's my bad, hard to show him pining bc he's such a professional at work. thanks so much for reading!! if you enjoyed, please consider reblogging i promise it means so much to me ♡
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