#and long tags apparently so sorry again

[rileymorph]

(WARNING: SORRY THIS IS SO. LONG. also, Blue & Vio propaganda ahead)

I really like the idea that as they get older, Blue realizes that he isn't the most uhh seemingly friendly person lmfao

like ofc, he's a hero of Hyrule and he's respected by the kingdom. but, as little as it may be, there's whispers around the castle (maybe among the castle staff or the knights) about Blue's callousness. it wouldn't be so bad if those comments weren't also in comparison to his counterparts. Green's growing up to be a great leader, Vio is unshakable on the battlefield, Red has the benevolence to uplift anyone in Hyrule—Blue? oh well, he's a great fighter, but he's reckless. short tempered. be careful around him, he might snap at any point.

those comments eat away at him. he doesn't want to be known as the "angry" or "troubled" one, but he struggles bad with how to control his emotions.

so Blue chooses to distance himself from everyone. if he can't control it, he can at least keep people from seeing it.

his closest friends/family (Zelda, dad, the other Links) notice his sudden change in demeanor first. however, when they come to him with concerns, Blue vehemently denies anything is wrong. then, the whisperers around the castle take note too. Blue's been quieter lately. maybe he's finally maturing. thank goodness his temper problems was just a phase. hearing those comments makes Blue feel better—at least he thinks it does—so he continues to keep to himself whenever possible.

then it's Vio, of all people, who finds himself the one most affected by this "new" Blue. honestly, the peace was nice at first. but now? as reluctant as Vio was to admit it to himself, he is a bit more... lonely without Blue.

ok maybe a lot more lonely

and maybe a bit hurt too

he's had enough. he's going to get Blue to open up whether he wanted to or not.

Vio corners Blue, and what starts off as a gentle "tell me what's wrong, I know there's something. let me be there for you." evolves into an exasperation as Blue refuses to yield (wow lol)

[remxedmoon]

(you worked yourself to death.)

yeah i wasn’t kidding when i said these would be coming soon. <- haha funny joke marshall. so!! remember when i said that this post would be coming out last weekend? guess whose tablet broke a few days after saying that! so sorry for the delay!! this is long overdue. here’s a link to the drive, as always! everything in this part of the update should be in the miscellaneous folder (outside of the menu icons, which are in the menu folder. wauaua).

unedited versions below the cut, plus some notes. fair warning 90% of this is just ui stuff lol

so! all of this was already done by the time i posted the enemies. the delay isn’t *entirely* because of the tablet issues, i just managed to get distracted by making: even more redraws! i’d say new update soon but after what happened last time i shouldn’t jinx myself. but! almost All of the art for the initial mod release is done!!!! exciting!!!!!!

please be nice to me (silly) this is my first time doing frame by frame animation in… give or take 5 years? i followed the original animations pretty closely, so they don’t look Awful but i am Aware of the jank. i’m not an animator!!! they’re Good Enough for my purposes.

hey did you know that the original teleport map is slightly off center. did you know that. that’s not the case for the redraw for the record but it did make things a little harder. despite that, i think you can tell i was having fun with the dormont part of the map. i would’ve put more detail into the house, but we never really get a more detailed look at it??? and i didn’t want to make assumptions. so that part’s just traced from the original 👍. anyways shoutout to the clocktower being Curved for whatever reason

outside of those, all of the added art is actually just spritework. i didn’t know this at first, but there’s a TON of copies of sprites from the icon set. Basically Everywhere. so those are added now! and should work properly! also added a few sprites that were Missing from my original batch. not going to put them all here, but a few Important ones (which i actually had to make new art for) are the rock paper scissors cheatsheet, the Larger versions of the craft signs (used in the calamité fight and. probably somewhere else idk), and the craft signs for the tutorial kid fight!

aaaand i think that’s it! for stuff from this update. yeah no there’s more coming buddy. my tablet already broke one time this week there’s no way it’s happening twice. i’m not working on portraits Just Yet (though the temptation has been There), but i’ve got the title screens, a few backgrounds, and the ending cgs done! along with a few other assorted cgs sketched out. because im out of my fucking mind. so, uh, see you soon!! enjoy!!

[call-me-copycat]

Just trying to scroll through the "Aizawa x Reader" tag and I had to leave angry because someone used the tag to complain about shipping (-᷅_-᷄)

Not only that but they were making fun of someone's fic... The amount of disrespect, I'm fuming (。-`ω´-)

It was one of those ships that one would consider immoral or taboo, your typical "Deku x Aizawa" authors. This person decided to screenshot the authors fic and complain and call it gross and then called the MHA fandom toxic...

How old were they? 18. My age. I feel as though I've seen that behavior back in middle school, but not as an adult.

I'm going to make a complaint post later on, sorry about that (·︿· `)

[mothgutz236]

Happy (belated) Valentines Day @midnight-mourning !!

Surprise! I was your secret Valentine! Sorry for the lateness, I am terribly good at procrastination but here it is at last! Your writing is always a delight to read so I hope this one-shot gives a similar feeling! Enjoy!

Word Count: 2,744

Working in the Superstar Daycare definitely has its perks. Learning all types of gossip from the kiddos, from divorces to which little kid had a crush on who; this job was full of, mostly positive, emotional rollercoasters. Another perk is working with both Daycare Attendants, which definitely got you a few odd looks and a couple light-hearted, teasing words from co-workers. Both Sun and Moon were just.. so nice to be around. Sure, their appearance and inhuman mannerisms took a bit of getting used to but being there for six months can make you pretty damn used to these twos’, in your own words, “cute quirks.” 

The day started out like normal, kids dragging you every which way to play their games if Sun was preoccupied, coloring, “eating” the pretend food the kids happily served you, and other things that make you almost feel like a kid again by proxy. It started soon after naptime, Moon and you had your usual conversation of him complaining about the new hires for daycare security and you complaining about a few irritating coworkers of your own. Sun had just gathered most of the kids, with you leaning casually on the front of the security desk at Sun’s insistence that he’s “more than capable of wrangling a few children.” 

A tiny hand gently tugs at your pant leg, your eyes drifting down from Sun to see a kid with a bright purple Bonnie hoodie, you were 90% sure that her name is Casey. Casey speaks, her voice a bit shy, “Um.. Mx. Star? Could.. Could you play Save the Princess with us?” 

You smile a bit at the nickname the kids had collectively decided to give you to match Sun and Moon, before nodding your head, “Sure, lemme guess; You’re in need of a princess to be in peril?”

Little Casey shakes her head, “No, we already have a princess; we just need a knight.”

You raise a brow slightly; normally the kids asked you to be the damsel in distress, now someone else is in fictional peril. You simply hum, quietly wondering who the princess is, “Oh, Alright. Who’s playing the princess this time?”

Casey grins like the cat who got the canary, “Mr. Sun.”

You let out a small snort, quickly stifling your small fit of giggles with the palm of your hand. It wasn’t the idea of Sun wearing the little plastic tiara that the princess had to wear, according to the kids, even if that is a hilarious visual. No, you’re giggling because you know damn well Sun’s going to turn the drama up to eleven. Being a former theatre bot, Sun loved to perform, so this was the perfect opportunity for him to stretch his acting legs and play the perfect damsel in the most distress. 

Casey took two of your fingers in her little hand and guided you to where the scene was laid out. A former cardboard box turned faux tower set piece, fake leaves hot glued to its colored brick work. That little tower was a mini project for the kiddos a few weeks back and now they’re near constantly asking to play Save the Princess, which you and Sun happily oblige to. 

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from giggling like a maniac when you finally spotted Sun. Sun wasn’t just wearing the little tiara, no, the kids went the whole nine yards; a frilly pink tutu, crayon lipstick, and from the looks of it, as many bracelets as the kids could find were decorating both of Sun’s wrists with his golden bells poking out from the miniature hoard of beads and colored plastic. 

Sun’s eyes turn from the group of kids to you, blank optics meeting your eyes before he makes a sound like clearing his throat, “Friend! Hello! U- Uh.. I heard you’re going to be my knight in shining denim?”

You snort, glancing down to your baggy jeans for a moment before meeting Sun’s optics once again, tone light and ever so slightly teasing, “Indeed I am, and I must say, You make one pretty damsel here Sunny~” After you said that, you swore his cooling system kick up a notch, already going from embarrassment you’d assumed. You don’t get a response from Sun or the chance to dwell on Sun’s quickening cooling system when a small foam sword and an even smaller, round plastic shield are both shoved into your arms, kids giggling all around you. 

A couple smaller pairs of hands give you an encouraging shove towards the tower as Sun settles behind it, only his crayon marked face being able to poke out from the little tower window which makes you swallow down another giggle. A kid wearing a Monty hoodie with the hood up, Gavin you were pretty sure was his name, mustering up the best roar he can. You mentally bust out your acting chops, letting out a dramatic gasp and taking a half step back out of sheer acted horror. You make your voice quiver as you ready your sword and shield, adding to the drama, “M- My! What a t- terrible beast! But I must be brave; For Princess Sunny!”

Little Gavin lets out another rawr, and speaks in the deepest voice he can manage, “You must go through me if you want to get to the princess! Rawr!”

Sun decides to jump in on our dialog, putting on the most dramatic falsetto you’ve heard in a while, “Oh brave knight!~ Slay this beast and save mee~” 

A “fight” ensues, turning up the dramatics to eleven in your own way. Your swings are extremely light, but your exaggerated body movements give the impression that the swing takes a grand amount of effort. A few minutes later, once the grand battle between you and the dragon concluded, you come out victorious; your head held high as you carefully step around the “corpse” of the dragon to step behind the tower of cardboard to collect your sunny princess. 

You hum softly, extending your hand to Sun, grin wide and borderline cheeky as you keep your tone overly formal, “M’lady~ May I help you up?”

Sun huffs, a touch of a laugh in his snark, “Oh, how gracious~ of you my knight.” Sun takes your hand and you help him back to his feet from the kneel. 

All of a sudden several little voices whine in complaint.

“Noo! You gotta do the princess carry!”

“Yeah! Do the princes carry!”

“You gotta give Mr. Sun the full princess experience Mx. Star!”

“Yeah! Full princess experience! Pleasee!”

A small wash of warmth runs up your neck and over your cheeks. Normally, when you were the damsel and “rescued,” Sun would carry you in the bridal style that the kids have dubbed “the princess carry” and parade you around the daycare a bit; which never failed to make you blush. Now the kids were practically begging for you to do it to Sun. 

You glance over to Sun, reaching a hand up to rub the back of your neck, voice clearly hesitant and low so the kids wouldn’t hear, “Well.. I mean.. I’m not opposed to the idea if you aren’t.” Sun meets your gaze and you're quite sure his internal cooling system is practically on full blast right now. 

Sun huffs again, steam minorly puffing out of his joints as he rolls his near non-existent pupils and changes his stance to something cross armed and brimming with sass, “I mean, you sure you can?” Sun leans close, intending to fluster surely but with the crayon make-up, it makes it hard to take him too seriously before he continues, “I mean, you’re rather.. small, sunshine~”

You let out a huff of your own, incredulous for a moment before grinning mischievously and leaning closer to Sun, “Is that a challenge Sunny~?” 

Sun’s milky white eyes widened, another small puff of steam left his joints, all sass quickly dropping as he sounded a touch panicked, “No No not a challen-!” His voice box grinds to a halt as you, with some effort, sweep him off his feet, literally. Moving all of those heavy-ass storage boxes from your old job meant you had put on some decent strength, so lifting up Sun only caused some minor strain that quickly faded as you held him. He was surprisingly light, being made of metal and having all of those wires and circuits, you’d thought he would be extra heavy. You guess him and Moon were made of a lighter metal alloy than the glamrocks so they could use the aerial wire without the potential risk of it snapping. Sun was warm against you, several puffs of steam leaving his joints as he froze, his blank optics gazing down at his feet.

You couldn’t help but be a bit smug, both lifting Sun and managing to fluster him back after all of the times he did it to you made your ego bump up a notch or two and a giddy feeling softly bubbled in your chest. Your voice carries this minorly smug energy as you tilt your head into Sun’s field of vision, trying to coax him to meet your eyes, “What was that about me being small~?”

Sun sputters, turning his gaze sharply away from yours as his internal cooling system continues to whirr loudly, some more steam puffing from his joints. You found it too cute that he sounds like an overheating computer right now, purely because you scooped him up into your arms. Sun grumbled something too garbled to make out in full but you were pretty sure he used the words “Dumb, hot security officer,” which only made your grin wider. You were half tempted to tease him, fluster him further, ask him to repeat himself, but there were children around so you skipped over that and went back to playful teasing.

You hummed, leaning forward slightly like you were going to set him down, “Well~ If you really don’t like the princess treatment, I can put you dow-” You choked a bit on your words as Sun threw his arms around your neck, keeping himself close to you.

Sun lets out a soft, minorly strangled noise of embarrassment, likely at his quick reaction to throw himself at you, before dramatically clearing his throat and putting the falsetto back on, “If you put me down, I will have you beheaded for mishandling your princess! Now, you must bring me back to my castle! Quickly now!” 

You let out a soft snort at Sun’s continued dramatics, but quickly obliged; straightening your posture, securing your hold on him and starting to carefully walk in the general direction of the security desk. The security desk has been the main “castle” the last few times you had been the damsel, the place where Sun put you once he was done parading you around the daycare.

Since Sun was forbidden to go behind the security desk by his protocols, you wouldn't be able to walk around to sit him down in a chair behind the desk, instead, you walked to the small wall that concealed the security desk from most of the daycare. You shifted your hold on Sun for a moment as you set him on top of the wall, your hands ending up on either side of his legs. You grinned up at him, his faceplate doused in minor shadow, allowing you to see the thin, white circles of his optics; the glowing shapes flitting between your face and the wall, Sun’s face still turned to the side, and cooling system still going at top speed. 

Sun makes a soft “tch” sound, his optics finally resting on you as he lifts his pointer finger to your forehead and lightly pushing you away, mumbling a soft “Meanie” which makes you chuckle a bit. You simply hum and step back, allowing Sun to hop down from the desk, him glancing at you before clapping his hands to gain the children’s attention for a different game, still glammed up. You take this as your cue to slip behind the desk once again, knowing that there are definitely some emails demanding your attention.

The rest of the day is relatively uneventful, a tantrum, an annoyed parent at pick up and the day is over, leaving you and Sun mostly alone, besides Moon of course. You were mid-email when the familiar jingle of bells pulled your attention up. Sun was looming over you a bit, casting his face in shadow and allowing you to see his optics for the second time today. 

Sun’s silent for a moment before adjusting his lean to be more casual as he speaks, “Sunshine? Would you be a dear and uh.. Help me clean up the crayon on my face?” 

You let out a soft huff and a small chuckle, the sounds melding into one before you spoke, already nodding your head at Sun’s ask, “Of course Sunny, go grab a chair or something and I’ll grab the wipes.”

You stand from the chair behind the security desk as you watch Sun bound over to the kiddie tables, grabbing a small chair to sit in as you reach over and pluck the disinfectant wipes you keep off your desk. You make your way over to an awaiting Sun, who was sitting in a small kiddie chair with his knees to his chest as he messed with the ribbons around one of his wrists. You reach Sun, getting in close as he pulls his hands close to his chassis to keep them out of the way before you pull out a couple wipes from the container. You slot the container between your legs to keep it close before you start carefully rubbing away at the waxy art supply on Sun’s face, carefully holding the bottom of his faceplate to keep it still. 

A comfortable silence falls over you both, the only sounds being hard are the jaunty daycare theme and Sun’s cooling system softly whirring as you clean his face, carefully removing the crayon from the various crevices in his placid smile. All of a sudden, you felt a gentle weight on your hips. You glance down and see Sun’s hands carefully resting there so casually you’d think he was doing it daily. A small wave of warmth rolls up your neck to your cheeks but you try and play it off, looking back at Sun's face to keep gently scrubbing at the stubborn crayon, trying to keep your expression neutral while your stomach is full of butterflies.

Time seems to drag on as you are overly aware of every minute movement of Sun’s hands, a small twitch of his finger, his thumb softly rubbing circles into the flesh of your hip for a moment before stopping, gentle squeezes that feel all too purposeful. Every. Little. Movement. And it was driving you up the wall to say the least. You can barely focus on wiping down Sun’s face, your own cheeks burning hot with blush from Sun’s touches. After a squeeze that seems a little too purposeful, you decide that you cannot stay quiet for any longer. 

You take a breath and make your voice as firm as you can manage, which isn’t much considering your current state of fluster, “Sun.”

Sun hums, giving your hips another soft squeeze, his voice dripping with teasing “Sunshine~”

Your voice is a flustered growl as your breathing hitches for a moment, “Sun.”

Sun tugs you ever so slightly closer by your hips, letting him rest the bottom of his faceplate pretty much on your collarbone, “Sunflower~!”

You groan again, face getting even hotter from the closeness as you grumble out a flustered complaint, “You’re insufferable..”

Sun hums once again, tone just a little smug, “Oh but you must suffer me all the same Sunflower~ That is part of your job description, no?”

You sighed, grumbling some more as you rested your forehead against Sun’s faceplate, the smallest hint of a smile quirking up the corners of your lips, “I hate you..” 

Sun presses his smile to your chin, letting out a soft chuckle, “Sure you do~” You huff, pressing a small kiss to the curve of his nose, a small smile shaping your lips. Working in the Superstar Daycare has many benefits but a few are exclusive to you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[march32nd]

me when the girl i've been dating for two months tells me that she doesn't find me at all attractive and isn't attracted to me and doesn't know if she ever will be !!!!!

[threestargirls]

omg sending in another assumption bc i just saw ur tag about wanting someone to guess ur eye color. you give off very strong blue vibes but if it’s not that then green!!

GIGGLING!! thanks for coming back with another!!! and it’s green!!! both my dad and brother have blue, but i get the green from my mother….

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sorry if you've already mentioned but what (re?)ignited your love of comics/x-men/cherik? curious because there are so many different adaptations of them

i think im gonna speak for a few (or a lot of) people when i say that TL;DR the wolverine x deadpool movie that came out this summer is what pulled me back into comics and i COULD leave it there but i will go into excruciating and unnecessary detail instead because i love an origin story and i love oversharing.

under the cut tho because im nice sometimes (there's also wxdp doodles in here. if you want to see that)

ironically (and probably commonly), growing up i was more of an avengers kid. Kinda. Loosely <- binge watched the cartoons and movies and read copious amounts of comics and fics and i am hoarding fanart in my old dresser as we speak ok 'loosely' is a modest lie.

embarrassingly i remember getting into discus cause of captain america LMAO so yeah needless to say i was a Humble Fan- me joining my school's comic class/club didnt help either (shoutout to my teach from that she was the realest one out there for. A Multitude of reasons). she definitely is was inspires me to even draw still and make comics and i often think bout the tips i learned from her class tbh she was great

back to the movies t and comics tho, i got into em because my brother would offer to take me and that's how we'd hang out (i rarely saw movies in theaters and i even more rarely went anywhere as a teenager. still kinda like that today tbh ooops) and yk. it just snowballed after that.

my brother and i have always liked comics- he just more than me for a while (though he still very much loves comics and As We Know From My Posts we still talk about them whenever i see him To An Exhausting Degree)

durin then i was really into stony and i have a few surviving doodles i made but those are between me and god. and anyone who asks tbh LOL

'snap can you make this related to x-men again this is long' ok so fast forward to This Summer again I Still Don't Really See Movies but my brother offered to take me and this was the first time i'd actually seen an x-men movie in full

as a kid i only remember seeing the 'perfection' scene between erik and raven in first class while i was channel surfing. pretty sure i changed the channel after seeing mystique naked cause i was scared my parents would get mad at me if they caught me watching it LOL

BUT MOVING ON As A Kid i think it's also natural you'll sometimes watch 92 if it's on And I Did though evidently it didn't stick too hard (i do remember really liking beast and gambit though.... still do really): my knowledge of x-men was. INCREDIBLY sparse. like diabolically so so i didnt have too much expectations (aside from the fact i vaguely liked deadpool beforehand).

tbh i dont know why my bro never took me to see any of the x-men movies. it's not like he doesn't Also like x-men (90% sure nightcrawler's his favorite but my brother will be caught dead saying he has absolute favorites like that)- he owns a bitch load of deadpool comics/omnibus sets too (of which ive read over the years and reread this year) but Shrug moving on

Much Like Most Of The Internet i fell down the rabbit hole that way. i have some doodles i made a couple days after seeing WxDP that i now have an excuse to throw at all of you Look And Perceive

and so. As I Do. i got curious and told myself i'd binge watch all the x-men movies the week before i went back to school And Then I Did ft. My Brother Sometimes and then i said i'd binge watch all of '92 and And I Did That ft. My Brother Sometimes But Less So and now we're here. currently watching Evolution...

once i got to school i realized i lived near a comic shop and started getting into the comics that way (the first ones i got since going down this rabbit hole was Magneto Was Right!, The Resurrection of Magneto, and The Trial of Magneto. if you were curious !!!!! clearly i didnt care too much about context i just needed to see My Guy jelvejlkvj i have no regrets and Evidently ive read more since)

i'm pretty sure what dragged me into cherik specifically was the fact i saw a clip of The Famous ending to 92 where erik's aghast at the notion jean even has to question his love for charles. i think that was what officially had me refocus my lens on them: not a single poolverine thought after that LOL (all the cherik posting i saw on twitter definitely helped too but that was the nail in the coffin for any other interests i had: i was locked into cherik and x-men in general now)

that clip specifically, i was surprised at the fact they- frequently even- have the x-men franchise say erik loves charles and vice versa so bluntly. even if it's not meant to be romantic, i fear im just a fan of how casually the word's thrown around with them two and i got tender bout it all. Then Yk. i just live for the drama. the hilarity even. the sincerity .... they make me sick if i think of them too long so im gonna end it here

before i go tho ironically enough, the first x-men issue i owned was This one (story a this is that while stuck in some wacko dimension charles accidentally gets himself trapped in logan's mind while utilizing his astral projection. if you were curious). pretty sure i got it for free with another comic set i got years ago since our old comic shop loved to do that, but it's poetic aint it. maybe ill doodle something referencing it..

i should probably look into finishing this arc someday im Dummy curious to even know how it started and how it ends.....

[deepseawave]

obsessed w the tags on ur last reblog

Omgg, thank you haha, it was a quality post so I just had to appreciate it in full force 😂❤️

Can‘t believe someone would actually enjoy my yapping :,D

[todayisafridaynight]

Hey so Snap this is going to be so fucking weird, but honestly don’t care. So I was watching a clip of Drag Race Philippines and it was the make over episode and I think they were making over family members and this father was all about getting into drag. So, I just wanted to tell you never forget how much of a lovely loving kind and caring father you have, who loves you and protects you and makes you feel heard. That’s all.

i'd have to die before i forget how great my dad is thank you for the opportunity to brag about him again anon

[lucky-aces]

.

[nems-corner]

we'll be back to posting soon its just been a roller coaster of the last few weeks. lots of transition happening in our lives right now and i am just an autistic little guy!

[subtlyhorrific]

I do appreciate seeing a fellow kin-adjacent Hannibal fan on this little app! It brings a smile to my face :}

i'm glad i was able to bring a smile to your face :)! finding like-minded individuals is always refreshing, and although labels can be ill-fitting, they usually serve as ways to bridge the gaps between communication and connection.

anyways, now i'm going to waltz over to your blog to send an ask of my own.

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”

[minniesfiles]

A THOUSAND SORRIES

Your phone died without you realising it while at your high school reunion party. So when your best friend requested an old classmate to drop you home, you didn’t realise how much it would shake your relationship with your husband, who you swore would’ve never doubted your loyalty.

❧ PAIRING; seungcheol x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

❧ TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, arguing, swearing, crying, seungcheol is a little bit of an asshole, hurt with a lot of comforting, maybe a little overdramatic, fluff

❧ WORDCOUNT; 8.7k

[ part of the Silent Treatment series ]

𐚁₊⊹

▍7 MAY 2024

“Shit, it’s almost one,” you muttered, eyes slightly wide as the glowing red digits on the wall clock stared back at you.

You were still perched on the velvet sofa at the back of the club, your head buzzing slightly from a mix of alcohol and adrenaline. Everyone around you was still laughing. Some sloppily dancing and others in tight huddles catching up over half-spilled drinks.

The night completely ran away from you. You and your friends had gotten too caught up in celebrating your high school reunion, hosted by one of your classmates who now owned the club, to notice how late it had gotten. And more importantly, you were too distracted to notice that your phone died — nearly two hours ago.

You closed your eyes and mentally kicked yourself. Who leaves the house with only fifty-percent battery? You, apparently. And it would’ve been fine — if Sujin didn’t insist on hijacking your phone for photos all night. “Your camera’s way better,” she said as she snapped an infinite amount of blurry selfies and group shots.

If you had that last five-percent, you could’ve booked a taxi by now, or at least texted your husband to let him know you were alive and not passed out in a gutter. But nope. You handed over your lifeline in exchange for better lighting and wider angles.

Still, you had to admit, the night was worth it. Ten years. That was how long it had been since you last saw these faces. Physically, some had changed beyond recognition, but there were moments where their seventeen-year-old selves peeked through. The way Beomseok, the school’s heartthrob, still threw his head back when he laughed. Or how Soyoung, the well-known bookworm, always over-explained her stories like she was giving a TED Talk.

Even the ones you never really liked, like that one girl who always made everything about her, brought a strange and unexpected wave of kindliness. Maybe it was the nostalgia. Maybe it was the drinks. Either way, you didn’t feel the irritation you used to. Just a weird fondness.

You let your mind drift back through the night — from the ridiculous dance-offs to the messy karaoke renditions of songs you didn’t hear in over five years. It was like slipping into a familiar old sweater, frayed in places but still comforting.

But now, reality knocked you back in your senses. You promised your Seungcheol you’d be home before midnight. He wasn’t the jealous type, but you knew he worried. And with your phone dead, no cash on hand, and no clue where your friends had scattered off to, you were stuck.

You scanned the club again, hoping to spot Sujin, maybe even your other friends at the very least. But nothing. Just bodies moving to the beat of some remix you didn’t recognise. You sat back and exhaled. You really didn’t know how you were getting home.

Sooner or later, you finally spotted Sujin over by the cocktail bar, half-laughing at something the bartender said as she swayed in rhythm to the music. The moment you saw her, relief washed over you like cold water, and you made your way towards her.

“Sujin,” you said, tapping her shoulder gently.

She turned around, a little startled. Her brow furrowed as she tried to hear you over the music. “Yeah?” she responded, a bit breathless.

You leaned in close, trying not to yell. “Do you know anyone who can drop me home? My phone’s dead and it’s getting really late. Seungcheol is probably losing it right now.”

Sujin’s expression shifted. She bit her lip and looked around as her eyes scanned the crowd of familiar strangers. “Ahh…” she muttered, her voice trailing off as she thought.

You could almost see the gears turning in her head. Then suddenly, her eyes widened. Her face lit up like someone just handed her the perfect answer.

“Minseok can drop you home!” she said, turning back to look at you.

“You know him, right?”

Of course you did. All too well. Minseok was your seatmate in physics back in your final year of high school. He was an astrology-obsessed nerd with a mop of hair always falling into his eyes and an inexplicable knack for blurting out random facts that you never asked for.

He once told you Mercury was in retrograde as you were about to fail a quiz, as if that was somehow helpful. Another time, he whispered a breakdown of Saturn’s rings during a fire drill. It wasn’t that he was mean, he was just…a lot. A walking trivia machine with no off switch. As harsh as it sounded, you didn’t miss him — not even a little.

“Seriously?” you said, half-horrified, half-resigned.

Sujin shrugged. “He’s sober. He came alone. And he’s not drinking, he’s literally sipping soda with lime like it’s a martini. He’s the safest bet.”

You groaned internally. Out of all the people, it had to be Minseok. You weren’t in the mood for a ride filled with awkward silence or worse — cosmic lectures about Venus retrogrades and your ‘energy aura’.

But desperate times, right?

Before you could protest, Sujin was already waving him over. “Hey, Minseok!” she called out.

You turned your head slowly, catching sight of him as he made his way through the crowd. He looked different, older obviously, but still very much him. His posture was straighter. His hair was neater, and he was dressed well in a simple button-up and dark jeans. Somehow, seeing him walk towards you didn’t feel quite as dreadful as you’d expected.

“Y/n! Hey, how are you?” Minseok greeted with a warm smile. You blinked in surprise. Not just at how relaxed he looked, but at his voice. It was deeper than you remembered. Smooth, even. Less nasal and less grating. Tolerable. Maybe even nice.

“I’m good. How about you?” you asked, offering a faint, polite smile. “I see you don’t wear your glasses anymore.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Ahh, I gave up on them and switched to contact lenses. It was a life changer,” he said, slipping his hands into his pockets like it was the most casual thing in the world.

“I see,” you said with a slight nod, unsure what else to add.

Before the silence could settle, Sujin jumped in. “So, Y/n needs a ride home. Can you drop her?”

“If you don’t mind,” you added quickly, almost reflexively. You didn’t want to sound like you were expecting anything.

Minseok didn’t hesitate. “Of course not! Let’s go,” he said, tilting his head toward the exit with a smile.

Your shoulders dropped as the tension left you in a soft breath. “Oh thank god,” you muttered, offering a more genuine smile in return.

You followed him out into the night where his car was parked a few yards away. Once inside, you gave him your address and he nodded before pulling smoothly onto the road.

The car ride was awkward, undeniably, but the soft music playing in the background drowned out most of it. He tried to make small conversations with you, only for you to give back short answers to avoid the awkwardness from growing. And he seemed to catch on to that, and decided no to press on too much.

╴╴╴╴╴

A few minutes later, Minseok pulled up outside your home. The street was quiet and dimly lit by the streetlamp. The neighborhood had long settled into silence — everyone asleep in their cosy homes.

You stepped out of the car and pulled your coat tighter around you as the cold air bit through the thin fabric. You turned back towards the driver’s side and leaned in slightly.

“Thank you so much Minseok. I really owe you,” you thanked him sincerely.

He gave you a small smile with his hands still on the steering wheel. “It’s okay Y/n,” he said softly, then added a chuckle. “It was nice seeing you after all these years.”

“You too,” you replied, returning the smile. You both waved each other a last goodbye before he drove off.

Turning to your house, you saw that the porch light was on. So were the lights in the living room. No surprise. Seungcheol was still awake.

As you stepped inside and started to kick off your shoes, you heard your husband’s voice hit you like a slap to the face. “Do you know what the fucking time is?” Seungcheol snapped from the hallway.

You froze mid-movement, caught off guard by the sheer aggression in his voice. You flinched while your hands were still on your laces. The look on his face was enough to stop you cold.

Rage was plastered across his face. His jaw was clenched so tight you saw the veins popping on his neck. His eyes were wild and bloodshot, like he hadn’t blinked in an hour. He stood there in his grey sweatpants and worn-out hoodie, but nothing about him looked relaxed. He was a coil pulled too tight.

Seungcheol never cursed, rarely even raised his voice. He always tried to stay calm and level-headed. So to see him like this, it threw you off.

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said as you inched closer. Your voice was shaky, but your instinct told you to close the distance. You wanted to calm him, to hug the anger away.

When you reached for him, Seuncheol stepped back and shoved your arms off gently, but firmly. That simple gesture was enough to make your chest tighten.

“And why weren’t you answering my calls or texts, huh? Do you know how fucking worried I was?” his voice rose.

You flinched at the harshness in his tone, and your shoulders curled in slightly as if to shield yourself. “My phone died,” you said softly. The words tasted pathetic the moment they left your lips, because you knew it was a poor of an excuse to explain yourself.

“That’s it?” he snapped.

“Your phone died? Then you could’ve borrowed someone else’s! You could’ve taken two damn seconds to call me and let me know you were alive Y/n!”

You blinked, caught off guard by the volume of his voice.

You could have called. But it didn’t even cross your mind. You were too distracted. You weren’t ignoring him. It just didn’t feel urgent. Until now.

But how could you say that without sounding selfish?

You didn’t say anything. You just stood there quietly, hollowed out by guilt. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, eyes stinging with tears. You could feel it. You could feel your throat tightening, and that familiar ache building just behind your eyes.

“Please don’t be mad. I’m home now.”

You reached for his hand. This time, not out of instinct, but desperation. You needed to hold onto something.

But he pulled away.

That was the moment something inside you cracked.

“Who was that guy who dropped you home, huh?” he suddenly questioned.

You froze.

Of all the things he could have said, this wasn’t what you expected. The question didn’t match the man you knew. The man who never batted an eye when someone flirted with you. The man who used to laugh it off and pull you closer like he had nothing to prove. Jealousy had never been in his nature. At least, not until now.

Your eyes narrowed as you studied him. He just looked at you, waiting.

You frowned, feeling something inside you start to burn. You would’ve answered him directly, but the fact that he even asked, it flipped a switch in you. A part of you that stayed patient through his yelling had enough.

“What do you mean?” you asked flatly. You weren’t playing dumb. You genuinely wanted to know — why that was even his question. Of everything that happened tonight, this was what stuck with him?

“That guy,” he said again, slower this time, as if you were the one not understanding. “The one whose car you got out of. Who was he?”

Clearly he saw you. But you weren’t surprised.

You blinked at him in disbelief, followed by a humorless laugh that slipped from your lips before you could stop it. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

The laughter died as quickly as it came. “Seungcheol? What are you trying to say? That I fucked him?”

You knew you were being dramatic, but the sting of it, the audacity of his doubt, made your heart sink. You just spent the last ten minutes apologising for something that wasn’t even completely your fault.

“That’s not what I meant!” Seungcheol quickly defended. But there was a small hint of guilt in his eyes. Like he knew he went too far but didn’t know how to walk it back.

“Then what did you mean, huh?” your voice cracked now, finally matching his in volume. “You tell me what you’re implying!”

He opened his mouth, but then closed it. A beat passed between you. A silence filled with things neither of you were willing to say out loud.

“I saw you,” he finally said. “You were smiling. You looked so…comfortable with him.”

Sure you were grateful for Minseok for giving you a ride home, but being comfortable with him was the last thing you felt. So you could not believe how ridiculous he sounded right now.

“So what?” you stared at him.

When he had no answer to give you, you took a breath in to steady yourself.

“First of all, he’s not a stranger,” you said.

“His name is Minseok. We went to school together. He was Sujin’s suggestion because my phone was dead and I had no ride home.”

Seungcheol still didn’t speak. He just looked at you with his jaw clenched.

“And second of all,” you continued, walking closer to him.

“Don’t you dare turn this into some bullshit theory about me cheating. You know me better than that. Or at least, I thought you did.”

“I do know you,” he said, but the words sounded unsure now. “I just—I was scared Y/n.”

“I know,” you said, softer now, but still firm.

“And I’ve already apologised for not calling. I should’ve found a way. I get that. But you don’t get to throw baseless accusations at me just because you were scared.”

Seungcheol ran a hand through his hair as he paced a bit around the hallway. “I’m not saying you cheated. I just—seeing you with him, then coming home late, not answering me—it messed me up. I waited for hours, just imagining the worst. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think.”

“I get it,” you repeated.

“But do you hear yourself? You think I’m out sleeping around because I got a ride from an old classmate? Because I smiled at him?”

Seungcheol sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know it sounds stupid now.”

“It doesn’t just sound stupid Cheol,” your voice cracked, shaking your head. “It sounds like you don’t trust me.”

You gave him a last, glassy-eyed look before you walked past him. And as you did, your shoulder unintentionally bumped against his.

Seungcheol didn’t say a word. He didn’t even stop you. He just stood there, still and guilt-ridden, as he watched you disappear upstairs.

His face went pale, and his chest felt tight. He opened his mouth to speak, maybe to call your name, or maybe to say sorry. But no sound came out. What would it change? The damage was already done. He said the one thing he could never take back.

Seungcheol knew he messed up. He knew he crossed a line that might be too late to step back from. But in that moment, all he could do was stand there — frozen in the ruins of a conversation he never should have started that way.

You, on the other hand, tried so hard to stay composed. You willed your feet to keep moving, step by step up the stairs, while holding back the sobs building in your throat. Your chest felt like it was caving in.

But the second you reached your shared bedroom and closed the door behind you, everything broke loose.

You dropped onto the edge of the bed, like your body couldn’t carry the burden of your bottled up emotions any longer.

Your body began to shake as the first sob broke free. The first sob that escaped from your lips was sharp and strangled, followed by another. And another. Soon, they were pouring out of you uncontrollably. You curled in on yourself as your hands gripped the bedsheets, trying to stop the ache in your chest from spreading further.

But it was useless. The pain was too much.

You never imagined hearing those kinds of words from him. Not Seungcheol. Not the man who once told you he trusted you more than anyone in the world. The man who always said he didn’t need constant reassurance because “you’re my person.”

You weren’t crying just because he yelled at you. Or because of the jealousy. It was what it all meant. It was the implication behind his words, and the doubt in his voice. To you, it made you feel like you weren’t someone he could fully trust.

That hurt more than anything else. Because after everything you had been through together and every moment where he told you you were his safe space — it now felt like none of it mattered apparently.

Downstairs, Seungcheol sat on the edge of the sofa with his elbows on his knees and face in his hands. The house was too quiet now. Except for the faint, muffled sound of your sobs upstairs. The sound shattered him more than anything. He knew you were trying to keep it in. You always did. But it wasn’t working tonight.

He could practically feel your pain from where he sat. Every cry of yours echoed in his ears, louder than anything else. His hands curled into fists at the thought of it — at the reality of him being the cause. He used to be the one who made you smile, and wipe your tears. He promised to never make you cry.

Now look at him.

Seungcheol hated himself for it. For letting his emotions get the best of him. For turning on the person he loved most. He would’ve fought anyone who made you cry like that — anyone — and yet tonight, he was the one who broke you. And now he didn’t know how to fix it.

He let out a shaky breath and leaned back against the sofa as his eyes trained on the ceiling like it could somehow offer an answer. But all he found there was more regret and more silence.

The sound of your crying didn’t stop. If anything, it became softer and more defeated. And that scared him more. Loud cries were of pain. Silent ones were of emptiness. He knew the difference.

He replayed the argument in his head over and over. His words and how your expression changed, and the way you flinched. He saw it all. It wasn’t just what he said. It was how easily it came out, wnd how little thought he gave before hurting you.

The worst part was that none of this came from a place of true doubt in you. He didn’t really think you cheated. The thought didn’t even occur to him until his anger morphed into a kind of jealousy he hadn’t even felt before. He was just finding an excuse to lash out on you for being late and not answering his calls. He knew he shouldn’t have. And instead of dealing with it like a grown man, like a partner, he lashed out like a child.

Seungcheol cursed under his breath and stood up abruptly. He paced around the living room as he thought about going upstairs. Apologising. He wanted to tell you everything he should have said instead. But what would he even say? “I didn’t mean it”? That felt too small. Too late even.

But still, he had to try.

Reluctantly, Seungcheol made his way upstairs. Your cries had now dulled into soft, broken sniffles that barely reached past the bedroom door, but they still echoed in his ears like sirens.

He paused just before the door as his hand hovered over the knob. He didn’t know if he was ready to face you, not after the damage he caused with words spoken in both anger and fear. He always promised to protect your heart and to never break it. But now here he was, standing on the other side of a door that never felt more like a barrier between you.

Maybe he should’ve waited longer and gave you space to breathe. But space also meant distance, and he didn’t want distance, especially not tonight. Not when things already felt like they were slipping. He didn’t want you to think he didn’t trust you. He didn’t want you to think his doubt meant he didn’t love you. Because that wasn’t it. Not at all.

He turned the knob slowly and gently pushed the door open.

There he saw you sitting on the edge of the bed, with your back to him. You wiped at your face quickly when you heard the door open, like you were trying to erase the evidence of your pain before he could see it.

But it was too late. Your eyes were red and glassy, and your movements stiff and tired. Without saying a word, you got up and walked across the room towards your vanity.

Seungcheol stood at the door. He wasn’t sure if he should come in or back away. But after a beat, he forced his feet to move.

“Baby…” he started softly, his voice cracking a little. He didn’t know what to say, didn’t know where to start. Everything he wanted to tell you felt too small compared to the hurt he saw on your face.

You didn’t respond.

He took a few more steps, watching as you sat down at the vanity and began removing your makeup. You moved like you were a robot as you dabbed at your eyes and wiped your cheeks. You didn’t even look at him. To you, he might as well have been invisible.

“I’m sorry,” he said, stopping behind you. His voice was quiet and careful. “I didn’t mean what I said. Really. I was just…”

But you still didn’t respond.

The wipes in your hand were tossed into the bin beside the vanity with a bit more force than necessary, but your face stayed calm. Not cold. Just blank. That was somehow worse. The silence was deafening, like it was screaming at him louder than any words you could have thrown.

He didn’t push, though. He just stood there and watched helplessly as you rose from the chair and brushed past him without a word towards the wardrobe. You pulled out a clean pair of pyjamas, underwear, and a towel. Then you turned and made your way towards the bathroom.

Seungcheol was left standing in the middle of your bedroom like a ghost. Like a man who broke something sacred and didn’t know how to fix it. He slumped onto the bed with elbows on his knees and head in his hands. His shoulders sagged and his chest felt tighter.

He played it back again. Every word. Every raised tone. Every look of disbelief and hurt on your face. And he hated himself even more for it.

All he could think about was how you didn’t yell. You didn’t throw anything. You didn’t argue. You just…shut down. That was how he knew it hit you harder than even he realised.

The sound of running water from the bathroom filled the room faintly. It was the only thing that broke the silence now. He sat there for what felt like forever, unsure if he should leave, or if he should knock and ask to come in.

But he knew you needed this time. Time to process. Time to breathe.

His heart ached.

He wanted to walk into that bathroom and pull you into his arms. He wanted to apologise properly. To kiss your forehead and promise he’d do better. That he’d never let his fears cloud the love he had for you again. But something told him words weren’t going to be enough. Not after the hurt he had caused.

╴╴╴╴╴

Seungcheol stayed sitting on the bed, waiting. The silence was too suffocating, and he rubbed his hands together as nerves ate away at him. He didn’t move from the edge of the bed since you closed the bathroom door behind you. Part of him still wanted to go ant knock, to beg for a second chance right there.

But he knew better. You needed space, and for once, he was going to respect that.

When the bathroom door finally creaked open, his head snapped in that direction.

You saw you walking out slowly in your fresh set of silk pyjamas. Your damp hair stuck softly to your shoulders as you gently dried it with a towel. Your face was calm, but still unreadable. There was no trace of any emotion. No glance in his direction nor any words.

It was like he wasn’t even there.

Seungcheol swallowed hard, the lump in his throat growing heavier by the second. The atmosphere was thick and tense. He opened his mouth to speak, but before a single word could leave, you turned on the hair dryer. The loud whir filled the room, drowning him out completely and silencing any attempt at conversation before it even began.

He watched as you dried your hair. There was nothing rushed about you, yet everything about you screamed restraint. You were containing your anger, holding back your pain. He could see it, even if you refused to show it.

When the hair dryer finally shut off, the silence that followed was almost louder. You didn’t look at him. You simply walked past the bed, flicked off the lights, and climbed under the covers without a word. As the room dimmed, the shadows softened everything but the ache in his chest.

Seungcheol stood there in the dark for a moment, unsure if he should follow or give you space. But the need to be close to you and to feel your warmth pulled him forward.

He climbed into the bed behind you slowly and carefully. Your back was facing him and your body was curled slightly away. He hesitated for a moment as his heart pounded. Then, inch by inch, he scooted closer. Gently, he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you towards him, like he’d done so many nights before.

But, it didn’t feel the same this time.

He pressed his face into the crook of your neck and breathed you in. You still smelled like the same shampoo he always teased you for hoarding in bulk. You still felt like home. But the stiffness in your body and the lack of response said everything he didn’t want to hear.

“Please baby,” he whispered into your ear. “I’m sorry.”

And he meant it. God, he meant it with every fiber of his being.

But you didn’t respond. Not with words. Not with a sigh. Not with a look.

Instead, your hand gently grabbed his wrist and nudged him away. You shifted forward, creating space between your bodies. He lay there, stunned, as his arm fell limply back to his side.

The cold hit him instantly. Not the air though, but the absence of you. The absence of your warmth and of your forgiveness. His heart dropped so far down, and so painfully, that he had to close his eyes to keep himself from falling apart.

To say his heart broke would be an understatement. It shattered into pieces. It hit the ground so hard, he swore he could hear the smash.

His eyes burned. He blinked to try to stop the tears before they could fall. But one slipped free. Then another.

Seungcheol didn’t cry often. He was strong and always the one to give you confidence during your doubts. But right now, he felt like sand slipping through fingers. Powerless to hold anything together.

He messed up. Bad. And he knew it.

He laid still. He was unsure if he should try again or stay silent. He stared at the ceiling in the dark, wondering how the hell he was going to fix this.

He’d apologise again in the morning. He’d make you your favourite breakfast. He’d give you space if that’s what you wanted, or hold you tighter if you let him. He just needed you to know that he never meant what he said. That no guy in the world could ever replace what you were to him. That his words were laced with panic and not reality.

He needed you to know that he was terrified of losing you, and in trying to keep you safe, he might have pushed you too far.

Minutes passed. Maybe hours. Sleep never came. Not for him.

Seungcheol listened to the rhythm of your breathing. He hoped that it would calm him. But it didn’t. It only reminded him how far he felt from you, even in the same bed.

He reached out once more, hesitatingly, and let his fingers hover inches from your back. Then he withdrew, letting his hand fall beside him again.

Tomorrow, he’d try again, and you hoped you would give him a chance.

▍8 MAY 2024

When Seungcheol woke up the next morning, he felt a slight chill immediately run through him. He shifted under the covers, and his body instinctively reached out across the bed to find you. But his hand landed on nothing but cold sheets. The side of the bed where you usually slept was empty.

Frowning, he pressed his palm against the mattress. It was cold — too cold. And he realised that you’d been up hours ago

Panic was slowly stirring in his gut. He rubbed his face tiredly, trying to get rid of the haze from his eyes as the soft sunlight bled in through the curtains. Maybe you were downstairs. Maybe you were just drinking tea or sitting in the living room. Maybe everything was fine. Maybe—

But the moment he sat up, he knew it wasn’t. The house was too quiet. Unnaturally so.

Normally, he’d hear you in the kitchen as you prepared breakfast for the two of you. And the smell. He could always smell the chamomile tea you made for him first thing, because you knew he needed it to start his day. You always made sure to have a cup ready for him. You’d have that soft, sleepy smile that made everything else in the world seem irrelevant.

Today, there was none of that.

There was no sound or smells. Not even the warmth of your presence.

Seungcheol’s heart was thudding uncomfortably in his chests as swung his legs over the bed. He sat there for a few seconds, hoping, praying that he’d hear something — anything — that would tell him you were still there.

But the silence was deafening.

With slightly trembling hands, he grabbed his phone off the nightstand. There were no messages from you, nor any missed calls. Just one new message from Sujin.

[SUJIN]:

You’re lucky I didn’t break your legs. How could you do that to her? She didn’t deserve any of it, Seungcheol. You better figure out how to fix this.

He stared at the message as the words burned into his brain. Sujin’s anger was expected. She was always protective of you, and sometimes even fiercely so.

He sent a quick message asking if you were with her, and patiently waited while biting onto his nails.

[SUJIN]:

Don’t worry about her, she’s safe.

Seungcheol let out a shaky breath of relief. While he was glad to know you were somewhere safe, it did nothing to calm the restlessness in his heart.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the wall. His mind kept replaying everything from the night before — every word that came out of his mouth and every look on your face.

One of the reasons your relationship lasted so long and grew so strong was because of the deep understanding between you. You were always patient with each other. You were both always willing to listen and to step back when needed. You weren’t perfect, no couple was, but you respected each other enough to work through it all.

Arguments happened before, of course. Insignificant things, frustrations and disagreements. But never like this. Never so intense. Last night was different, because it felt like it reached somewhere much deeper than either of you ever touched before.

Seungcheol knew you weren’t someone who lashed out easily. You didn’t lose your temper or escalate fights. You were always thoughtful, even when you were hurt. You didn’t run from problems — you faced them with a calm strength that he always admired, even when he was too stubborn to show it.

In fact, to Seungcheol, you were always the more tolerant one between you both. You gave more grace. You forgave quicker and you loved harder. You were the one who always held the ship steady when the storms hit.

And that’s what made this morning so gut-wrenching.

For things to escalate so badly — for you to leave without a note or a word — that wasn’t you being dramatic. That was you protecting yourself. You were drawing a line he should have never forced you to draw.

The realisation twisted like a knife in his gut.

It wasn’t you being overly sensitive. It wasn’t you misunderstanding him. It was about him. His fear. His words. His failure to trust you when you deserved nothing less than unwavering belief.

The fight alone wasn’t the reason you left. You left because somewhere in the middle of his anger and unknown jealousy, he made you feel small. He made you feel in a way that questioned your loyalty. He hurt you badly.

He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly.

There was no one else to blame but himself.

He couldn’t even lie to himself and say it was a misunderstanding. He crossed a line, and now he was standing on the wrong side of it with no way of knowing if he could bridge the gap.

Seungcheol leaned forward and buried his face in his hands. He knew it would take more than just showing up at the door with flowers. He knew it would take more than empty words thrown in a moment of panic.

It would take time. Especially patience.

And he would do whatever it took to earn his way back. Even if it meant starting from the ground up.

╴╴╴╴╴

Seungcheol spent the next four hours doing everything he could to distract himself. He scrubbed every surface of the house until his hands were sore. He picked up things that didn’t even need cleaning. He even reorganised drawers that were untouched for months. He did anything to keep himself moving, anything to keep his mind off from the deafening silence filling the space you both used to share so easily.

When there was nothing left to clean, he threw himself into work. He opened his laptop and started answering emails he would have normally ignored. But he couldn’t focus. His mind was elsewhere entirely.

He could have gone into the office. He could have pretended that it was a normal day. But he didn’t want to. He couldn’t. Because if he left the house, he’d miss the moment you came back.

That was when you’d come back.

Even as the hours dragged on, and hope started to thin like mist, he stayed. He stayed waiting. Regretting and hurting.

He checked his phone more times than he could count. He left you countless messages and calls in hopes that you would answer. And his heart jumped every time there was a vibration, only to be disappointed a second later. There were no answers from you. Only old notifications and an unread message from Sujin that was probably telling him to go fuck himself. Which was understandable.

But the silence from your end was killing him.

Just when he thought another second of waiting would crush him completely, he heard a soft click of the front door opening.

He nearly dropped the laptop off his lap in his scramble to stand up. He made his way quickly towards the hallway, nearly tripping over himself in the process.

And there you were.

You were bent over as you quietly slipped off your shoes. You were still in your pyjamas from the night before, with an oversized black jacket thrown over them.

You looked small and fragile. Exhausted.

He felt his heart twist painfully.

Your hair was slightly messy, and your face — God, your face — was red and puffy. It was obvious you hadn’t stopped crying, not for long anyway. You sniffed softly, blinking away fresh tears as you shoved your shoes aside without even sparing him a glance.

Seungcheol felt something inside him break.

“Baby,” he called out softly, voice cracking slightly as he took a cautious step forward.

But you didn’t respond. Not even paused. You just walked right past him.

He turned and followed you to the living room, helpless and desperate.

You shrugged off your jacket and placed it on the arm of the sofa, while your back was still facing him. You still didn’t look at him. You didn’t say a single word.

Seungcheol felt his chest tighten painfully, and his throat growing thick.

“Baby, please,” he choked out as he stepped closer.

Still, you said nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, almost too quietly.

The words felt inadequate. They were empty compared to the hurt he caused. But he needed you to hear them. He needed you to know that he was willing to say it as many times as you needed. That he would spend the rest of his life making up for what he said.

“I know it’s not enough,” he continued, struggling to find his voice, “for the amount of hurt I’ve caused you by my words, but…” he trailed off, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

“I’m truly sorry,” he finally said.

You still didn’t turn around.

“I don’t know what came over me,” he said. The words were tumbling out now, more urgent and desperate.

“But I should have never said what I said. Never made you think I didn’t trust you. Fuck,” his voice cracked, fighting the tears he refused to let fall.

“Baby, I didn’t mean any of it. I really didn’t,” he cried.

He took another hesitant step closer. And he watched your shoulders tense, and how still you were, like you were holding yourself together by a thread.

He wanted to reach out and touch your hand. He wanted to wrap you up in his arms and promise he’d never let anything like this happen again.

But he was terrified. He was terrified that if he pushed too hard, you’d pull even farther away.

“I was scared,” he admitted, his voice shaking.

“That’s not an excuse. It’s not. I let fear get to me. I let it make me doubt the person I trust more than anyone else in the world. And I hurt you. I hurt you when I should have been the one protecting you.”

Still nothing. The silence stretched uncomfortably, and deafeningly, long between you.

Seungcheol stood there feeling utterly helpless as his heart beat so painfully he thought it might break apart completely.

He wished he could rewind time. He wished he could take back every stupid and reckless word that came out of his mouth. But he couldn’t. All he could do was stand there, hurting and hoping that you would give him even a sliver of a chance to make things right.

He dropped his head, and his arms hung uselessly at his sides.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me right now,” he said.

“Maybe not even tomorrow. Or the day after that. But I’ll be here. I’ll wait. However long it takes. I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right.”

A tear finally escaped, trailing down his cheek. But he didn’t bother wiping it away.

“I’m not giving up on us,” he said, voice cracking again. “I would never.”

For a moment, nothing happened. You didn’t move, nor speak.

Seungcheol felt like he was suffocating. The longer you stayed silent, the tighter the air felt in his lungs. The fact that you wouldn’t even look at him shattered him more.

You didn’t have to scream. You didn’t have to say a single word. Your silence was already deafening enough that it echoed louder than any insult or accusation he had ever faced.

He stood there for a moment, watching you. He could feel the distance between you. You were right there in front of him, but you felt so far away.

And that was unbearable.

So he stepped forward, cautiously. He reached out, almost hesitantly, and wrapped his arms gently around your waist from behind. You didn’t resist. You didn’t lean into him either. But you didn’t pull away. And to Seuncheol, it was the tiniest mercy he clung to it like a lifeline.

He pulled you in slowly, pressing your back against his chest. He hoped that the warmth of his touch could speak where his words failed. He leaned down and buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling a shaky breath.

Then, he started to sob. Quietly at first as his shoulders shuddered.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice raw and thin. It was all he could manage at first.

“I’m so fucking sorry baby.” The words tumbled out again more desperately.

Seuncheol didn’t care if he sounded pathetic. He didn’t care that he was crying or pleading. All he cared about was the wall between you — the silence. If falling to pieces at your feet meant you’d speak to him again, he’d do it a thousand times.

“Scream at me,” he begged softly, his breath hitching. “Curse me. Heck, hit me. Just…please, say something baby. Anything.”

Still, you didn’t speak.

But then he felt the slightest shift in your body.

Your shoulders relaxed ever so slightly under his touch, and your head tilted just enough for him to feel your cheek brush lightly against his. You weren’t rigid anymore and you weren’t fighting his presence.

“Say something baby, please. Anything. I want to hear you,” Seungcheol pleaded with a shaky voice, tightening his arms around you. He could feel his heart pounding erratically against your back.

But you didn’t answer. You stayed still and silent. And the air felt too thick to breathe. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, eyes shut tightly as he tried to keep it together. His grip wasn’t forceful, but there was urgency in it.

A long minute passed in the choking silence. Then, just when he thought it would stretch on forever, he heard a soft whimper.

Seungcheol stiffened, and his heart began staggering. He slowly lifted his head, and listened.

Another whimper followed, then a sharp, broken breath. And then — sobs. Real, raw, heart-wrenching sobs.

You broke down in his arms.

Seungcheol froze, and soon panic began to swallow him.

“No, no, no…” he whispered as he quickly turned you around to face him.

“Hey— hey, baby” his hands moved to your face, cupping it gently. “Look at me, please.”

Your cheeks were damp and flushed, and your eyes swollen and red. And the moment he saw you like that, something inside him shattered. He never saw you cry like this. Not even during your worst arguments, not even during your lowest moments.

“Please don’t cry,” he whispered as his thumbs brushed under your eyes to catch the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “Please. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, my love.”

His voice cracked mid-sentence, and his throat burned as if the words were scraping against the regret lodged there. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he mumbled as his breathing ragged, and his forehead gently pressed against yours now.

But you only cried harder.

Your body folded forward, and your forehead pressed into his chest as your sobs muffled against his shirt. He immediately wrapped his arms around you, holding you like you were something fragile.

“I didn’t mean any of it,” he whispered again. “I didn’t mean any of it, I swear.”

He said it in a way to not just reassure you, but as if repeating it could somehow undo it. As if it could take back the words he let slip when he lost control.

You didn’t respond. But your fists clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you held him just tight enough for him to know that you weren’t pushing him away. Not entirely.

And that was enough for him to completely fall apart.

He stood there as he rocked you gently. Tears were spilling from his own eyes as your cries rang within the quiet house. He didn’t care that he was crying. He didn’t care about anything but you.

He’d never felt so powerless in his life.

“I thought I was losing you,” he confessed quietly.

“Last night…I panicked. When I saw that you weren’t picking up my calls or answering my texts, and then seeing you get out of someone else’s car…I lost it. And instead of asking if you were okay, I accused you. I doubted you. I hurt you.”

You hiccuped through your sobs, still clutching his shirt. You hadn’t spoken yet, but your pain said everything.

“I’ve never regretted anything more than that moment,” he said, voice breaking.

“I should’ve trusted you. I do trust you. I just didn’t trust myself to be enough. And I let that insecurity punish you instead.”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, even though your eyes were still closed and streaming with tears. “You didn’t deserve that. You never have. You’ve always been the one who held us together. And I— I let my worst fear make me the one who tore us apart.”

You finally let out a shaky breath, not quite a word, but enough to make him freeze.

His hand trembled as he brushed your hair back gently. “Please talk to me,” he whispered.

“I know I don’t deserve it right now, but…I just need to know if there’s even a piece of you that still wants to fight for us.”

He would understand if you didn’t. He’d hate it, and it would destroy him. But he’d understand.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and for the first time since you walked through the door, your eyes met his. The look you gave him wasn’t angry. It was exhausted. Shattered and deeply sad.

It broke him all over again.

“I was scared too,” you finally said, your voice hoarse.

“I never thought we’d come to such a point. And I was scared that the person I trusted the most didn’t believe in me. That…you saw me the way strangers might. Like I could just…be thrown away.”

“No,” Seungcheol said quickly, shaking his head.

“Never. I don’t see you that way. I never have, and I never will. It’s all my fault for being so insecure when there was no reason to be.”

“You really hurt me,” you said in a whisper as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“I know,” he replied softly, forehead pressing against yours again.

“And I will spend as long as it takes proving to you that I’ll never let it happen again.”

╴╴╴╴╴

The two of you were cuddled up together on the sofa. You were wrapped up in each other with your bodies entangled in a way that words couldn’t describe properly. Because for the first time in what felt like forever, the quiet between you was simply peaceful.

You talked softly. It was obvious how tired you were with how your voice was low, but it was still full of honesty. The rawness of the last twenty-four hours still lingered, but neither of you ran from it.

You repeated how scared you were and how betrayed you felt, and Seungcheol listened to you without interrupting. His apologies kept streaming, and not just verbally but through his tears and trembling touches. Especially in the way he held you like you — like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Eventually, your words began to slow down. You started to speak less and less, and your sentences trailed off as your head rested more fully on his chest. He could feel your breath even out before your body slowly went limp.

You fell asleep on him mid-thought.

Seungcheol looked down at you and just…smiled. Not because he was relieved, nor because the hurt disappeared, but because you were here — in his arms. You trusted him enough to let your guard down again, even if it was only for a moment.

It meant a lot to him. More than anything.

He brushed his fingers gently across your cheek, and tucked a stray hair behind your ear. You shifted slightly in your sleep, your face scrunching just a bit before relaxing again. He chuckled under his breath and continued to trace your jawline with the back of his knuckles.

You were exhausted. He knew that.

Everything that went down last night drained you. You didn’t sleep properly, didn’t eat much either, and your body was finally demanding what your heart didn’t let it take: rest.

Carefully, Seungcheol slid out from beneath you, trying his best not to jostle you awake. You stirred just a little as your hand weakly clutched the hem of his shirt.

“It’s okay love. I’m right here,” he softly whispered, and you relaxed again before letting him go.

He stood up and stretched his back slightly, before he turned his gaze down to you. You looked so small curled up on the sofa like that.

Without another second of hesitation, he leaned down and gently scooped you up into his arms.

Your head fell against his shoulder as he lifted you. You didn’t stir much either. Seungcheol just let out a quiet sigh as he adjusted his grip and carried you towards the bedroom. He made sure that his footsteps were soft so you wouldn’t wake up.

When he reached the bedroom, he gently nudged the door open with his foot and walked over to the bed. He then placed you down slowly. His hands lingered at your sides for a second longer before he grabbed the blanket and pulled it over you, tucking it around your frame.

It was only three in the afternoon, but the sunlight peeking through the window gave everything a golden hue. He stood there for a moment, and just watched you breathe. You looked peaceful again. Not fully at ease, nor healed — but calm. And that was enough, for now.

You badly needed the rest.

And if he had anything to do with it, he’d make sure you had all the time in the world to feel like you had nothing to worry about.

Seungcheol sat on the edge of the bed, and his eyes never left your face. He reached out and brushed his fingers along your forehead, gently moving the strands of hair that had fallen across your features.

You always looked beautiful to him, but in this moment, you looked ethereal. Vulnerable, yes. But resilient too.

He leaned down slowly and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. It was a promise that he would do better. Be better.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

He stayed beside you for a while, just watching. He sat listening to the way your breath slowed even more as you fell into a deeper slumber. The lines of tension in your face smoothed out and your lips parted slightly, while your hands loosened beneath the blanket.

Seungcheol didn’t want to leave your side, but he didn’t want to disturb you either. So after a long minute, he stood up quietly and took one last look at you before backing towards the door.

Before leaving, he turned back around, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest.

He loved you so much it hurt sometimes. But for the first time since yesterday, he felt like maybe there was still something worth rebuilding. And he was going to fight like hell to rebuild it. Brick by brick.

a/n; please like and reblog 🫶🏽

[bi-writes]

I’m sooo curious, how did John and his young wife meet if you have an idea?

I read a young price fic where she was his son’s nanny and now I’m curious if you have lore for them too!!!

-anasdump

they are the most obnoxious group of oxygen-stealers you've ever seen, and they're in fucking uniform.

taking up all the bar counter space. hogging the pool tables. throwing the darts so hard, they nearly took out some poor man's eyes. if they laugh and holler and spill one more fucking speck of beer on your leather purse, you're going to wind it up and smack them up the throats with it.

you approach the bar for a refill. you crane your neck as you look for a spot to grab the bartender's attention, but they're all shoving each other and slamming their hands on the wood and getting in the way. you huff, stepping up to a couple of them.

"hey, you need to move. no one can order if you're just gonna take up the whole counter."

the biggest one turns to look at you head-on. you glare a little, motioning with your hand for them to move, but he just leans back against his elbows. he's got the ugliest army haircut, and he wears his dog tags out in front like it's some kind of medal. you doubt he's ever seen anything outside of whatever stupid base he came off of.

"sure, we'll move. but it'll cost ya."

he looks you up and down, and you purse your lips when you meet his eyes.

"no. move over. i'm asking nicely right now."

"oooo," he laughs a little, nudging his friends with his elbows. they laugh, too. "i'm terrified, love."

you decide to just move them yourself. you shove your way between them, but when someone grabs your arm and tugs you backwards, you don't think. you just swing.

your knuckles connect with that asshole's face, and he cries out as he steps backward into his friends.

"don't fucking touch me!"

"you cunt--"

"oh, you did not just fucking call me that, you stupid, brainless piece of shit--!"

"easy," a low voice says behind you. you're almost glad for the interruption. your fist would falter with another punch you think, already bruising around the knuckles.

he's weathered, this new man. you would smell the military on him from a mile away, but he's older in a way that speaks volumes to you. he has the hands of someone that only knows hard labor, and the lines in his face have been warped not by time, but by decisions. he wears a beanie and a scruffy beard, and by the way the other men shuffle in his presence, he must be someone important.

when he steps in front of you, he blocks the view of wandering eyes. you peek around his arm, and every single one of those idiots has their gaze on the floor, and they stand at attention.

"you're an embarrassment to the crown, you lot," he mutters. "supposed to be examples. supposed to enact...some sense of duty in others, and yet all i see are a line of fucking boys that never learned their manners in primary." he laughs, "i mean...to call a lady a cunt?"

you rub your knuckles gently, looking down.

"i expect all of you to report to lieutenant riley at 0600 tomorrow. and your weekend passes are hereby revoked."

the whole pub is a little more relaxed once they're gone. you take a seat at the bar, and the bartender gives you a solemn smile before going to make you another drink.

"i uh..." you stiffen when you hear him behind you. "i want to apologize on behalf of them. tha's no way to treat someone, especially a woman."

"especially a woman," you laugh a little, shaking your head as you pick up the drink set down in front of you. you take a long sip of it, turning to face him. "i can handle myself, thank you very much."

"i can see tha'." he nods to your hand, which looks a little raw. you hide it under the counter, taking another sip of your drink.

"you know, i think you have a lot of other things to worry about," you snap. "like the band of assholes you apparently are in charge of."

"i'm sorry about them," he says again. "you won't see them here or anywhere close to you ever again. tha' i can promise you."

"you listen here--" you turn in your seat to face him, poking his chest with your finger. you try not to think about how your finger doesn't even budge, hitting a thick, pelted chest that has no give. you glare up into those baby blues. they're so bright--gorgeous. your breaths shake, but you steel yourself. he looks anything but afraid of you, no, he looks amused. "you all bring nothing but shit tracking in those boots of yours."

he sniffs, tilting his head to the side. "not a fan of servicemen, are you?"

you laugh, shaking your head.

"i'd spit on you, but even that's too good for you."

he grins. a full-blown smile, and when he leans into your space, you don't move. your finger on his chest flattens, your entire hand pressing there in the middle of his chest.

"i'm john."

you look him up and down. his pretty eyes, the dated but kept beard, the smile lines, the warm and solidness that sits under your hand. he's a teddy bear under that, but you're not fooled. this man isn't like the others--he's wise. experienced. it means he's trigger-happy, and it means he has blood on his hands.

you give him your name anyway, and he repeats it, low enough and close enough that you feel his breath on your face.

"i need another drink," you say, putting a finger on his lips and pushing him backwards. "and you're gonna buy it for me. buy me a few, actually."

john chuckles, taking his jacket off. he drapes it over the back of your chair, and you try to avert your gaze when you see big, burly biceps and coarse hair. his arm stays there, behind you.

"you understand me, john?" you coo, and he smiles big. he nods.

"yes, ma'am."

[kiwriteswords]

Delayed Gratification [Aaron Hotchner x Female!Reader]**

Masterlist [I need to update this, sorry!]|| Ao3||Word Count: 7k|| AN: I've been watching Dharma and Greg and the episode where Dharma suggests to Greg they try to be celibate inspired me. Tags/Warnings: SMUT! MDNI! NSFW!! 18+, female reader, established relationship, bau!reader, pwp, p in v smut, no protection, male masturbation, talks of mutual masturbation, oral sex, no talk about protecting (just assume they’ve got this established!), celibacy, teasing, hotch and reader poke each other's buttons, wet dreams, teasing bau team Summary: You and Hotch try a month without sex to see how long the other can last.

The faint aroma of garlic and basil lingered in the kitchen as you finished wiping down the counters, the quiet hum of the dishwasher providing a gentle backdrop.

Aaron was standing at the sink, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, methodically rinsing the last of the wine glasses. Your eyes traced the curve of his back, the broad set of his shoulders straining slightly against his shirt as he moved.

"Do you ever actually relax?" you teased lightly, stepping closer and leaning against the counter beside him. "We have a dishwasher for a reason, you know."

He shot you a soft glance over his shoulder, amusement sparkling in his dark eyes. "Old habits," he murmured, the rich timbre of his voice vibrating through your chest.

"Mmm," you hummed softly, fingertips reaching out to brush gently along his forearm, tracing the veins beneath his warm skin. "Some habits are worth keeping."

Aaron paused, his movements slowing as your fingers lingered. You felt him tense, his muscles tightening beneath your touch. 

He cleared his throat softly, his voice just a shade rougher as he asked, "Are we still talking about the dishes?"

You laughed quietly, the sound easy and comfortable, yet tinged with a subtle, electric tension. "What else would we be talking about?"

He set the glass down slowly, turning fully toward you. The space between you was barely there, a mere breath apart, and his gaze dropped briefly to your lips before returning to your eyes. His voice dropped lower, quieter, and you felt it brush over your skin. 

"You're playing a dangerous game."

"I like a little danger," you whispered playfully, tilting your head up to better hold his gaze. "Keeps things interesting."

Aaron chuckled softly, leaning in until you could feel his breath warming your cheek. Just when you thought he'd close the distance, he paused, lips grazing your ear as he murmured, "Did you have something specific in mind?"

Heat curled low in your belly, and you had to fight to keep your voice steady. "Actually, yes."

"Mmm?" He pulled back just enoughto meet your eyes again; curiosity etched clearly on his face.

"So, you know my friend Taylor, right?” Aaron nodded,”Well, she told me about something she and her husband tried." You hesitated, savoring the confusion now mingling with intrigue in his expression.

"Go on," he encouraged, gently tracing his fingertips along your jaw.

You swallowed, momentarily distracted by the intensity of his gaze, before continuing. "They decided to be celibate for a month."

He stared at you blankly--

Almost looking like his brain was…was malfunctioning. 

Those were not the words he was expecting to come out of your mouth. 

The slightest crease appearing between his brows. "Celibate?"

"Yeah," you laughed softly, your hand flattening against his chest, feeling the strong, steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. "They swore off sex completely, and apparently--"

"Why?" His voice was genuinely baffled, eyebrows lifting slightly as if the concept was utterly foreign.

You grinned at the mild alarm in his eyes. "They said it made everything better. Heightened anticipation, deeper connection, mind-blowing--"

"Our sex life is already fantastic," Aaron interrupted, sounding mildly defensive, his thumb brushing gently across your lower lip.

He was right. It was fantastic. Best sex of your life. Ten-out-of-ten sex--

It could go on a world record list of best. Sex. Ever.

But when your friend Taylor went on and on about how things went on and on…and on between her and her husband, Joey…you were..intrigued.  

"It is," you conceded, leaning subtly into his touch. "But imagine how incredible it could be after a month of waiting."

Aaron let out a slow breath--

Visibly skeptical. 

Yet his eyes darkened slightly at the thought. "You seriously want to do this?"

"It could be fun," you said, voice softening, tone suggestive. "Unless you don’t think you could last…"

He raised an eyebrow, clearly recognizing the challenge in your voice. "You really think I lack self-control?"

"Prove me wrong," you whispered, boldly stepping back from him, the sudden distance leaving him reaching subtly toward you. "Unless you're afraid you'll miss me too much."

A slow, competitive smile spread across his lips, even as his eyes simmered with restrained heat. "Fine. One month."

"One month," you echoed, feeling a delicious shiver race through you at the sheer audacity of your plan.

Aaron moved closer, stopping just short of touching you, his gaze locked firmly onto yours. His voice dropped to a teasing growl, filling the charged silence. "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into."

You smiled knowingly, heart pounding in your chest. "Neither do you."

The first few days of the challenge passed by in a confusing blur of routine and restraint. 

Nights that normally ended tangled together beneath the sheets became filled with quiet--

Slightly strained goodnights…with both of you carefully maintaining space between your bodies. 

The comfortable ease of falling asleep curled into Aaron’s warmth was replaced by cool sheets and a palpable yearning lingering between you.

In the mornings, the casual intimacy of getting ready together was fraught with subtle tension. 

You found yourself deliberately looking away as Aaron buttoned his shirt, though catching glimpses of his bare skin left your pulse quickened and your resolve shaking.

At work, brief moments alone became fraught. A quick brush past each other in the bullpen, a lingering glance across the conference table, and even the simple act of Aaron placing a file on your desk seemed charged with unspoken longing.

One evening, after a particularly taxing case, you found yourself nearly forgetting the rules--

Instinctively reaching out to pull Aaron into an embrace. 

The warmth of his body pressed briefly against yours sent a rush through your veins, but you quickly stepped back--

Eyes wide. 

Breath catching.

Aaron’s gaze burned into yours, a frustrated smile quirking his lips. "Almost forgot yourself, didn’t you?"

"Shut up," you murmured softly, laughing despite the ache building in your chest. "It’s harder than I thought."

His eyes darkened with quiet agreement, voice low as he replied, "You have no idea."

Each passing day tested your limits further, yet neither of you were willing to concede defeat just yet.

About a week later, it was a later afternoon at the BAU, the office buzzing quietly with end-of-the-week energy. 

You sat at your desk, skimming through the paperwork from your last case, distractedly sipping the lukewarm coffee at your side. Your mind drifted--

Attention captured more by thoughts of Aaron than by the bureaucratic jargon in front of you.

You glanced up instinctively toward Aaron’s office. Through the slightly ajar blinds, you saw him sitting at his desk; brow furrowed, his tie loosened just enough to hint at the end of a long week. 

Your heart quickened at the simple sight of him--

Strong fingers flipping through a report, the familiar crease in his forehead deepening slightly.

You missed his touch. Missed feeling his hands on your waist, his lips tracing slowly along your collarbone--

Stop it, you chided yourself silently, turning your attention back to the forms. It’s barely been a few days. Get it together.

You'd been doing well, really. 

Sort of. 

Since starting this little challenge--your self-imposed celibacy experiment--both of you had stuck to the rules. 

Despite the usual pattern of coming home and relieving the day's stress tangled together, you'd both restrained yourselves. 

Each night had become increasingly difficult, awkward glances and lingering touches feeling far more significant than they should have.

You sighed, pressing your forehead into your palm, willing yourself to focus.

A gentle voice interrupted your thoughts. "Rough day?"

You jolted, looking up sharply. Aaron stood beside your desk, arms crossed comfortably over his chest, a half-smile playing at his lips. His dark eyes held yours, humor softening his usually serious gaze.

"Jesus, Aaron, warn a girl," you muttered, recovering your composure as he chuckled softly.

"Sorry." His tone indicated he wasn't particularly sorry at all. He shifted slightly, leaning down so he could lower his voice. "I was thinking--it's Friday. Let's grab dinner later. Just us."

You eyed him warily, sensing an edge beneath the casual suggestion. "Dinner?" You echoed, your lips quirking up. "Is that code for something else?"

"No," he replied innocently, but his eyes darkened slightly, pupils dilating as they settled steadily on you. "Just dinner. Why--are you afraid you can’t handle it?"

Your pulse stuttered at the deliberate challenge. You straightened in your seat, tilting your chin up in defiance. "I think you're projecting. Maybe you're worried you won't behave yourself."

Aaron leaned closer, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, intended only for you. "Oh, believe me. I know exactly how to behave. Even though I know that you prefer it when I don't."

Your breath caught sharply, heat flooding your cheeks as his words slid smoothly beneath your skin, igniting every nerve ending.

"You know," he continued quietly, utterly composed as he watched your reaction closely, "I keep thinking about last weekend. The way you sounded when my mouth was right--"

You cleared your throat quickly, desperately, cutting him off before anyone could overhear. "Aaron," you warned under your breath, your pulse hammering, the flush blooming redder across your cheeks.

He tilted his head, eyes amused but dark with a challenge. "What? Isn't this your little game?" His voice dripped with restrained heat. "I thought you'd enjoy a little competition."

Your fingers clenched tightly around the edge of the desk, your breathing shallow. "Careful," you muttered, voice strained, "or I might call your bluff."

His lips twitched into a faint smirk, utterly confident and maddeningly attractive. "It wouldn't be bluffing. But if you decide to break your own rules, I'm going to remind you that you're the one who couldn't take it."

Your gaze flashed back to his, bristling with defiance. "You're awfully cocky, Agent Hotchner."

His smile widened faintly, predatory and controlled. "I prefer the word confident."

The air between you was electric-- 

Practically crackling. 

Tension pulsing thickly through each shared breath. 

His eyes roamed over your face, lingering deliberately at your mouth before meeting your gaze again.

He leaned in one last time, whispering low against your ear, breath hot against your neck. "I'll pick you up at eight. We'll see how long your little rules last tonight."

You swallowed hard, shivers cascading down your spine, warmth pooling dangerously low. "Maybe I should reconsider dinner."

He chuckled softly as he straightened, clearly pleased with the effect he'd had. "Too late. I'm not backing out now. I'm not a quitter--especially when I'm enjoying your game so much."

He strode away, perfectly composed, leaving you utterly flustered--

Heart pounding…desire simmering fiercely beneath your carefully held-together composure.

You exhaled shakily, watching him walk back toward his office, knowing perfectly well he’d done that on purpose.

Days later, you leaned against the kitchen counter, idly scrolling through your phone. 

It had taken the entire afternoon--and part of the evening--to regain your composure after Aaron’s little performance at work. But now, days later and comfortably settled at home, you finally had a plan to tip the scales back in your favor.

Aaron sat on the living room couch, legs comfortably crossed, reading glasses perched on his nose as he reviewed yet another set of files. 

The soft glow of the lamp illuminated him gently, shadows accentuating his defined jawline. You nearly lost your resolve right there--

But then you remembered the cocky smirk on his face.

No. 

He wasn’t going to win this easily.

With a calculated sigh, you casually pushed yourself off the counter, phone still in hand.

"Aaron," you called sweetly, sauntering over to stand behind him. You slid your arms over his shoulders, leaning forward so your lips brushed softly against his ear. "Can I borrow you for a second?"

He tilted his head slightly, turning enough so your eyes could meet. His expression was cautious but intrigued. "For what?"

"I did some shopping this week," you murmured, your fingers brushing lightly along his chest. "Online. I thought I could use a little pick-me-up after such a stressful week."

He raised an eyebrow, eyes glimmering with curiosity. "Shopping, huh?"

"Mm-hm," you hummed, withdrawing slowly and making your way toward the bedroom. "I’d love your opinion on my new...outfit."

He stared after you for a moment, clearly suspicious, but his interest piqued nonetheless. He finally nodded, setting aside the files and removing his reading glasses.

"Sure," he said cautiously, rising to follow. "Let’s see."

You shot him a dazzling smile. "Give me two minutes," you purred, closing the bathroom door gently behind you.

In reality, it took you closer to five. 

You carefully fastened the delicate clasps of the garter belt, adjusting thigh-high stockings that hugged your legs. The deep, midnight lace of the lingerie contrasted dramatically against your skin, a matching bra accentuating curves you knew Aaron couldn't resist. A pair of sky-high black stilettos completed the ensemble, adding height--and confidence--to your stride.

You glanced in the mirror once more, satisfied with the sight staring back at you, took a deep breath, and slowly opened the door.

Aaron stood near the dresser, scrolling absentmindedly through his phone. As the sound of your heels clicked against the floor, he glanced up, completely unprepared for what awaited him.

His mouth fell open slightly--

His phone nearly slipping from his fingers. 

You suppressed a triumphant smirk as you slowly moved toward him, deliberately swaying your hips. 

His gaze roamed shamelessly over you…from the intricate detailing on your bra, to the garter belt hugging you waist, down your stockings and finally to the heels that added an entirely new layer of allure.

"Aaron?" you asked softly, voice dripping with innocence, even though your eyes were anything but. "Thoughts?"

He cleared his throat, visibly swallowing hard, the muscles in his jaw tense as his eyes darkened to something nearly…feral.

"You’re…" He took a slow, shaky breath, clearly fighting for composure. "You’re absolutely killing me."

You stepped closer, fully aware of the power you held at this moment. Your fingers lightly traced along his tie, tugging it playfully.

"That's kind of the idea," you teased gently, lips curving into a satisfied smirk. "I thought it might help your memory. You seemed to have forgotten earlier how easily I can distract you."

Aaron’s breathing was shallow--

Strained. 

He visibly struggled, clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, clearly battling an internal war.

"You look…amazing," he admitted finally, voice thick and husky, his eyes darkening even further. "But--"

He paused abruptly, shoulders tensing as he stepped quickly around you, brushing past without another word toward the bathroom.

Stunned, you spun around, staring after him with open disbelief.

"What the hell was that?" you demanded, slightly offended and definitely frustrated.

He paused briefly at the door, hand gripping the frame so tightly his knuckles whitened. He turned just enough to glance over his shoulder, eyes heated but stubbornly resolved.

"That," he answered slowly, voice tense but firm, "was me desperately needing a cold shower. I’m going to stand under freezing water and think about every goddamn file stacked on my desk at the office until I forget what you just did to me."

You scoffed, incredulous, though secretly impressed by his willpower. "Really?"

Aaron’s mouth twitched, his eyes still smoldering but determined. "I told you--I’m not a quitter."

He disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of water immediately drowning out any further protests.

You exhaled sharply, equal parts annoyed and begrudgingly impressed. He was playing tougher than you thought.

Another week (felt like a century) had passed. The team had claimed their usual table at O'Keefe's, a warm, dimly lit pub known for its strong drinks and inviting atmosphere. 

Soft laughter mingled with clinking glasses, blending easily into the background hum of conversation. The evening was supposed to be relaxing--

A time to decompress from another long, difficult week. But for you, relaxation was currently nowhere on the menu.

Not with Aaron’s hand resting firmly--and very intentionally--on your thigh beneath the table.

You glanced sideways at him. Aaron sat perfectly relaxed, chatting casually with Rossi about some old case, his face the picture of composure. 

Anyone else would believe he wasn’t doing a damn thing out of the ordinary. But beneath the wooden table, hidden from the team's view, his thumb traced slow, deliberate circles on the fabric of your pants.

What. The. Fuck. 

You shifted subtly, trying to relieve the fiery pressure building between your thighs. Aaron noticed immediately, and a small, barely perceptible smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. His hand slid incrementally higher, the heat of his palm practically scorching your skin.

Emily raised an eyebrow at your slight squirming. "You good over there?"

You coughed lightly, shooting Aaron a brief glare as his thumb paused dangerously close to your inner thigh. "Yeah. Just...hot in here," you lied quickly, taking a deep sip from your drink.

Aaron tilted his head toward you, feigning innocent concern. "Need some water?"

You forced a smile through gritted teeth. "I'm fine."

Penelope studied the two of you with a thoughtful expression. "You sure? You look kind of…flushed."

JJ, sensing the opportunity for humor, nudged Reid playfully. "Uh-oh. Looks like someone might be in trouble."

Reid glanced up cluelessly from his soda. "What do you mean?"

"She means Hotch is in the doghouse," Derek chimed in, eyes gleaming with playful mischief as he leaned back in his chair. "Look at that guilty face."

Aaron lifted an eyebrow at Morgan, hand never budging from your thigh. He remained perfectly composed, even as his fingertips pressed lightly, sending a jolt of electricity straight through your body.

You swallowed hard, struggling to maintain composure as heat flared in your cheeks.

Rossi chuckled knowingly, swirling his scotch glass. "Ah, Aaron, I take it you’re sleeping on the couch tonight?"

Aaron shrugged calmly, eyes glinting as he gave your thigh a subtle squeeze. "Something like that," he answered cryptically, enjoying your barely suppressed reaction.

Your eyes narrowed, frustration and embarrassment mingling with desire. "That makes two of us," you mumbled under your breath, swirling the straw in your cocktail and regretting everything about this little "experiment."

More like…mistake. 

Unfortunately, JJ heard your comment, her eyes lighting up instantly. "Ooh, trouble in paradise goes both ways, huh?"

Emily smirked, tilting her beer bottle toward you both. "You two having some sort of domestic standoff we should know about?"

Aaron shot you an amused, sideways glance, clearly daring you to respond. "Just a little disagreement about…boundaries," he offered smoothly.

Penelope’s eyes widened behind her sparkly frames. "Oh boy. Do I even wanna know?"

Reid shook his head vigorously. "Probably not."

You sighed deeply, feeling Aaron’s hand finally retreat slightly. Relief--and disappointment--washed through you simultaneously. "Trust me, it's better if you don't."

Morgan snorted, elbowing Emily gently. "If they're both suffering, maybe we shouldn’t push our luck."

Emily raised her glass in agreement. "Fair enough."

Rossi chuckled deeply, casting you both a knowing look. "Ah, young love. So complicated."

Aaron leaned back, arm resting comfortably behind your chair, finally giving you space to breathe. But his eyes remained locked on yours, heavy with unspoken promise.

"Complicated," he echoed Rossi softly, just loud enough for you to hear, his voice low and intoxicating. "You have no idea."

Your heart pounded, heat pooling dangerously low. This challenge was spiraling fast, and the boundaries you'd set seemed flimsier by the minute.

Penelope shook her head with mock severity. "All right, whatever weird game you two are playing, keep it at home. This is supposed to be PG."

Aaron’s lips twitched into a faint smile, eyes never leaving yours. "Understood."

You bit your lip, torn between laughter and the ache of frustration. Whatever was left of your resolve was fraying dangerously…dangerously thin.

As the conversation moved on, Aaron leaned toward you, his breath warm against your ear, voice a low murmur that made your pulse quicken.

"Still think you can handle it?"

You turned slowly, meeting his dark gaze with a defiant smirk. "Bring it on."

You both knew you'd regret it later, but at that moment, pride trumped common sense.

At least, until he gently placed his hand back on your thigh, fingers curling possessively, igniting your skin once more.

Yeah.

You were definitely going to lose this battle--

And frankly? You weren't even sure you'd mind anymore.

The next night, the room was cloaked in darkness--

Quiet and still. 

The steady hum of the air conditioning blending with the gentle rustle of sheets. You slept peacefully beside Aaron, tangled comfortably in the blankets, oblivious to the restless energy building beside you.

Aaron shifted slightly in his sleep, brows knitted together, lips parted with shallow breaths. 

His dreams were vivid--

Too vivid--

Images of you swirling through his subconscious, memories, and fantasies intertwining dangerously. 

He could practically feel the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips, the warmth of your breath against his neck, hear the sweet sound of your voice whispering his name.

With a sharp inhale, he startled awake, pulse hammering in his ears. 

He lay motionless for a few long seconds, chest rising and falling heavily as he stared blankly at the ceiling.

God, he needed you. 

This stupid game--

Your little challenge…was becoming ridiculous--

Almost unbearable. 

Every muscle in his body felt taut with frustration, and there was only so much he could take before something had to give.

Glancing carefully at your sleeping form beside him, Aaron let out a slow, measured breath, carefully easing out from beneath the sheets. He shifted gently, positioning himself away from you, back turned just enough that he wouldn't wake you.

He shut his eyes tightly, feeling slightly ridiculous--

Like a teenage boy again--

But the ache between his thighs was relentless. 

He took himself in hand, moving quietly, carefully…desperately trying to find relief without disturbing you.

But a soft, teasing voice quickly shattered his plans.

"Agent Hotchner," you whispered playfully, voice thick with sleep yet undeniably amused, "I do believe that's cheating."

Aaron froze instantly, mortification mixed with frustration creeping along his skin. He turned slightly to face you, flushed and breathing unevenly. You were propped up on one elbow, watching him with a sly grin, eyes sparkling in the dim moonlight filtering through the blinds.

"That’s not--" He cleared his throat, voice low and husky. "It's not cheating. It's…a careful work-around."

You raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical, lips twitching with suppressed laughter. "Oh, is that what we're calling it now?"

He huffed softly, eyes narrowing at your amused expression, but the embarrassment was fading quickly. "Exactly. No rules broken."

You tilted your head thoughtfully, feigning consideration. "Hmm, I’m not sure about that. This feels suspiciously like cheating."

"Cheating implies two people," he argued, struggling to keep his voice even. "This is purely solo."

"Ah, a loophole." You nodded mock-seriously. "Should've thought of that myself."

Aaron’s eyes darkened at your teasing tone, his embarrassment giving way to renewed confidence. He turned fully toward you now, unabashed despite the vulnerability of the moment, and moved slightly closer.

"You’re welcome to join me if you’d like to ensure fair play," he challenged softly, his voice rough with barely restrained desire.

Heat instantly rushed through you, your pulse quickening as you fought to maintain composure. You hesitated, eyes locked onto his, tempted beyond belief--

But pride held firm.

You could so jump on this train. You’re sure it would take less than five minutes to finish. The sheer thought of Aaron’s temptation alone could bring you to orgasm. The sight of him carefully…slowly stroking himself a whole other layer to things that…that honestly was making your throat dry.

But…but you were determined. 

The reward…it would be pure bliss.

"Nope," you replied stubbornly, sinking back into the pillows, fighting the urge to touch him. "Your loophole, your rules."

He stared at you incredulously, clearly not expecting that response. He paused his movements. "You're serious?"

You shrugged lightly, eyes sparkling mischievously in the darkness. "Rules are rules, Aaron."

He exhaled sharply, frustration mounting. "This was your idea."

"Exactly," you said sweetly, snuggling deeper into the covers. "You were just bragging about your self-control yesterday, remember?"

Aaron glowered playfully, finally surrendering with a quiet, reluctant sigh. He collapsed dramatically back against the pillows, staring blankly at the ceiling, clearly resigned. "This is torture."

You chuckled softly, secretly sympathizing--

It was torture. 

Though you'd never admit it now. 

"That's the idea."

He turned his head, eyes lingering warmly on your face, frustration melting slightly into tenderness. He frustratedly tucked himself back into his boxer shorts begrudgingly.

"You’re lucky I love you."

You smiled softly, leaning closer to gently brush your lips across his cheek. "Very lucky."

Aaron wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer and sighing deeply into your hair. "Can we at least agree that dreaming doesn't count as cheating?"

You laughed softly, tracing your fingertips over his chest. "Dream away, Agent Hotchner. Just keep your hands to yourself."

He groaned quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reluctantly settling back against the pillows, pulling you close again. "Remind me never to let you choose our challenges again."

You smiled against his chest, your eyes slipping shut, exhaustion blending with the sweet ache of temptation. "Noted."

Aaron sighed softly, eyes closing in surrender. Tomorrow would be another battle entirely--

But for now, he simply tightened his hold around you, determined to endure.

You both were about two weeks away from the challenge being over. It had felt like years…absolute hell on earth. 

The entire day had been an exercise in patience, one thin thread after another snapping beneath the weight of tension between you and Aaron. 

The case had been exhausting, draining you physically--

Mentally, and--worst of all--emotionally. 

Each moment felt charged, every interaction thick with a palpable intensity neither of you could shake.

And everyone had noticed.

It started that morning. 

You'd slipped into a pencil skirt, one that hugged your curves in all the right ways. You knew exactly what you were doing--

Aaron loved that skirt.

Loved the way it emphasized every subtle movement of your hips. 

He’d practically growled when he saw you at the crime scene, eyes trailing slowly over your figure with barely concealed frustration.

As the day progressed, you found yourself subtly but deliberately pushing his buttons. 

You challenged his orders just enough to make him grit his teeth, raising an eyebrow in quiet defiance whenever his eyes narrowed at you across the precinct.

He'd retaliated by maintaining impossibly strict control over the investigation, projecting authority in a way that made your knees wweak.

It had all boiled over when Aaron interrogated the unsub. 

Watching him from behind the glass had been both thrilling and torturous. His voice had been sharp--

Commanding.

The tension in his shoulders evident as he'd leaned forward, eyes burning with intensity. 

Something primal stirred within you at the sight--

Anger radiating off him. 

Powerful and dominating…

Turning you on more than you'd ever admit.

Afterward, the team exchanged bewildered glances as Aaron strode past you with barely a nod, his jaw clenched tightly. Morgan’s eyes had followed Aaron carefully, a slow smirk spreading over his face.

"What the hell did you do to him?" Morgan whispered, incredulous.

You’d shrugged nonchalantly, heart racing beneath your calm exterior. "What makes you think it was me?"

Emily scoffed, shaking her head. "Please. You two have been off all day."

JJ nodded, smirking knowingly. "Whatever game you're playing, you're clearly both losing."

Now, hours later, you stood frozen outside your hotel room, staring at the closed door, adrenaline racing through your veins. 

You knew Aaron was inside, waiting. 

It was late; the rest of the team had retreated to their own rooms, leaving you both alone to face the inevitable.

Taking a deep breath, you swiped the keycard and stepped inside, the door clicking softly shut behind you.

Aaron stood near the window, staring silently at the darkness outside, tie loosened, jacket already draped over a nearby chair. He didn’t turn around immediately, but the rigid line of his shoulders told you everything you needed to know. His patience had worn razor-thin.

"Aaron--" you started softly, hesitant yet desperate.

He turned sharply, dark eyes flashing dangerously. His gaze swept over you, igniting fires beneath your skin.

"Enough," he said hoarsely, voice low and commanding, eyes blazing with barely contained desire. "This ends now."

Before you could respond, he closed the distance between you in three quick strides, capturing your mouth in a heated, possessive kiss. 

Any hesitation vanished instantly, replaced by an overwhelming, urgent need.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer as you surrendered fully, completely. 

All rational thought evaporated, drowned beneath the intensity of his kiss, the hard press of his body against yours. 

His strong hands moved urgently over your hips, pressing into the curves he'd been deprived of for far too long.

"You drove me insane today," he murmured roughly against your lips, voice dark with hunger. His teeth grazed along your jawline, sending chills cascading down your spine. "That skirt...that mouth of yours..."

You gasped softly as his hands firmly pushed the fabric of your skirt upward, fingers gripping your hips with bruising urgency. 

You arched into him, breathless. "You weren't exactly innocent either," you whispered back defiantly, pulling his tie free with shaky fingers, swiftly undoing the buttons on his shirt. "Watching you yell at that unsub nearly made me lose my mind."

Aaron groaned, mouth tracing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your throat, his breath warm against your skin. "God, I’ve missed touching you."

His hands slid beneath your shirt, pulling it swiftly over your head and discarding it without a second thought. Clothing hit the floor piece by piece--

Urgency growing with every passing moment. 

It was frantic. 

Desperate.

Each touch igniting sparks hotter than you'd imagined possible.

When he finally lifted you, effortlessly guiding your legs around his waist, you whimpered against his lips, completely and utterly lost.

Aaron paused for a brief second, breathing harshly against your mouth, eyes dark and intense as they locked onto yours. "You win," he admitted roughly, his voice thick with desire. "I'm done holding back."

You smiled breathlessly, heart racing as you whispered back, fingers threading through his hair, "It's about damn time."

All pretense vanished then, surrendering to the overwhelming need you'd both denied for far too long. Everything else faded away--

Rules, games, even the lingering thoughts of your teammates’ confusion.

Tonight was only about you and Aaron, tangled together in passionate relief, finally letting go.

Because as far as you both were concerned, this was one competition worth losing.

Practically tossing you on the bed, it felt like he was all over you at once. His mouth moving from your jawline to your lips to that spot behind your ear--

The one he knew made you weak in the knees. 

Wet between your legs. 

The effect this man had on you. 

“Are you going to drag this out,” You asked, “Make me beg for you?” 

Your hands tangled with his tie, quickly trying to work his clothing off before he replaced your hands with his own. Taking off the tie swiftly and then working each button, a smirk of mischief fell across his face.

“I could,” Aaron hummed, tossing the shirt and tie on the floor before reaching for his belt. Your eyes darted to them, seeing the tent in his dress pants...waiting--

Asking for you. 

He contemplated for a moment longer, “But it’s been too long, sweetheart,” He saidalmost tenderly. You smiled at him sweetly, “Too long and I’ve missed you.” 

“God,” you sighed, “I’ve missed you too.” 

It was then, the remainder of your clothes were removed. Aaron’s lips were back on you in a moment’s notice. 

Kissing. Licking. Full on attacking your body with his mouth in the best way. 

Kissing his way down your bare skin, he found himself settling between your thighs. He pushed them open without and argument from you. The cool exposure contrasted against your arousal. 

“After my silly game, you’re rewarding me?” You held yourself up on your elbows to look at him seated between your thighs. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Aaron tisked, “This is a reward for me.” He moved closer, licking gently…almost teasingly, at your core, “I said I missed you.” 

Like a parched man, Aaron drank you up. His tongue worked you, bringing you to orgasm within no time. Your back arching off the bed and your hand fisted with his hair. His name like a prayer off of your lips. 

Oh. 

Oh, how you missed this. 

Within no time, his mouth was back on yours. Tongue swiping yours as you breathed into the kiss. You were soft against him, melting into each kiss. You reached between your bodys and stroked him once. Twice. Three times. Before he stopped you. 

“I’m like a revirginized teenager, sweetheart,” He said slightly embarrassed, “You keep that up and I will not last. It’s been almost a month.” 

You kissed him softly, “I’m sorry,” to which he kissed you again, combing his hands through the hair framing your face. “This was a stupid idea.” 

He chuckled, “It…it was.” Kissing you once more on the nose, “But distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?” 

“And the couple grow hornier,” You nodded, causing him to laugh a little before kissing you deeper this time. 

He rolled onto his back and took you with him. You straddled his legs and ran your hands up the planes of his chest, feeling the softness beneath you. 

You grinded your wet center against him, eliciting a deep, guttural groan from Aaron. He hissed your name under his breath, “You’re not playing fair.” 

“You should know that by now,” You lifted your hips and reached for him, positioning him at your entrance. 

Slowly--achingly slow.

You lowered yourself onto him. He hissed between his teeth. You could have sworn he said your name along with a curse, but your ears were buzzing. Too overwhelmed from the fill. 

It had been too long.

Way. Too. Long.

Oh.

Oh, how you missed this. 

Missed him.

With each movement, you realize how much you took your sex life with Aaron for granted. With each thrust, he met you--

Each time,you heard your name fall from his lips like it was the only name he knew. 

You realized you would never take this man or your connection for granted again. 

Had it ever been this way with anyone else? 

Never. 

Not even close. 

The way your bodies felt like they were made for each other. Like there were divots in your hips made for his hands to hold you there and rock you against him. Guiding your hips front and back as you moved on top of him. 

You never had to fake it with Aaron either. With others, you had to pretend you’d cum. Or just simply say you didn’t and pretend like it was okay. 

With Aaron? It was second nature. You couldn’t stop yourself from coming even if you tried. It would hit you like a freight train sometimes. 

Out of nowhere. 

Sometimes it was fast and heavy and overwhelming. 

Other times, it was soft waves that enveloped you for moments upon moments. 

But today…

Oh, today?

It hit you. 

Like a ton of bricks. 

Aaron’s hand found the bundle of nerves between your thighs, rubbing circles against your clit. You felt from the way his thrusts began to stutter. 

Began to become less rhythmic. 

He was close.

You were closer.

You were there.

Your orgasm washed over you. You felt yourself clench around him, milking him of all he had. Like a domino effect, Aaron followed behind you. The noises he made were something you missed--

And again…would never take it for granted again. 

The bruising grip on your hip moved to your back as you fell against his chest. You felt his heavy breathing against you. You peppered lazy kisses along his collarbone.

Your breathing slowly steadied, matching Aaron's rhythmic heartbeat beneath your cheek. The dim glow of the bedside lamp washed warmly over your tangled bodies, casting gentle shadows across the hotel walls. For several minutes neither of you spoke, content to simply exist together, skin pressed to skin, savoring the quiet aftermath.

Eventually, Aaron shifted slightly, his fingers brushing soothing circles against your bare back. You felt his chest vibrate softly as he chuckled beneath his breath.

You lifted your head, glancing up at him, curiosity and amusement sparkling in your eyes. "What's so funny?"

He tilted his head, looking down at you fondly, a rare, relaxed smile lighting up his usually serious features. "I'm just relieved we can finally stop torturing ourselves."

You laughed softly, tracing slow, idle circles on his chest. "Hmm, was it really torture?"

"Absolute torture," he insisted, voice low but playful. His fingertips skimmed gently along your spine, sending pleasant chills through your exhausted limbs. "Though I'll admit, seeing how long you'd last was oddly satisfying."

You propped yourself up on an elbow, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Funny, because I distinctly recall you being the one who caved first."

Aaron’s eyes glimmered with humor, his lips curving upward just slightly. "Maybe. But as I recall, you didn’t exactly put up much of a fight."

You scoffed lightly, but your eyes softened. "Fair enough."

He reached up, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, expression turning more serious as his gaze softened further. "Honestly, this whole thing was ridiculous. Remind me never to agree to one of your ideas again."

"Oh, please," you teased softly, leaning down to kiss his lips tenderly. "You loved every second of it."

Aaron hummed softly against your mouth, pulling you closer again. "I’ll admit, the payoff was definitely worth it."

You smiled contentedly, resting your forehead against his, feeling completely at ease now that the tension had finally broken. Your fingers traced absent patterns against his skin, the warmth and comfort of the moment soothing your still-sensitive nerves.

"Besides," you murmured quietly, your voice teasing yet tender, "I learned something valuable from all this."

He raised an eyebrow curiously, voice gentle. "What’s that?"

You kissed him once more, a lingering touch filled with affection. "You’re stubborn as hell, Aaron Hotchner—but you're also irresistible when you finally give in."

He laughed softly, a rare, genuine sound that made your heart flutter. "I'll keep that in mind."

You shifted slightly, settling comfortably back into his side, head resting easily against his chest again. The hotel room returned to comfortable silence, the quiet broken only by your synchronized breathing and the faint sounds of the night beyond the window.

After a moment, you heard Aaron exhale deeply, tension fully releasing from his body. "You realize the team’s going to have questions tomorrow."

You smiled lazily against his chest. "Let them. I’m too happy to care."

Aaron’s arms tightened around you, holding you protectively, possessively close. "Good," he murmured softly. "Me too."

Sleep slowly began to pull at both of you, exhaustion settling over your bodies. Just before drifting off, Aaron pressed a soft kiss to the crown of your head, his voice gentle, filled with quiet sincerity.

"But next time," he murmured quietly, lips curving into a teasing smile against your skin, "let’s just skip straight to this part."

You laughed sleepily, closing your eyes and melting against him, finally at peace.

"Deal."

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