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crescentfool · 1 year

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i love ryomina

no but seriously. even when i’m thinking about other things that captivate my interest, i find myself coming back to them and feeling like i fell down three whole flights of staircases every time i do. they are one of my favorite pairs in media and are very special to me.

it’s the way that ryoji and minato’s lives are inevitably intertwined with each other due to the circumstances 10 years ago on the moonlight bridge. without no minato, there is no ryoji. minato as he is today is because of ryoji. they have irreparably affected each other’s lives that you cannot discuss one without bringing up the other one.

ryoji mochizuki, who is death, pharos, thanatos, nyx avatar, the man of many names and identities, is the perfect summation of p3′s messages and themes.

minato arisato, the wildcard and protagonist, who has boundless kindness in his actions despite the unfortunate cards handed to him.

the two of them complement each other and tell a beautiful story from start to finish.

minato’s personas capture this perfectly. he awakens to orpheus, who’s flames burns bright, is snuffed out by thanatos during the encounter against the arcana magician. a visual precursor of the idea that ryoji stole from the life that minato could have had.

it’s the way that over the course of the game as minato interacts with pharos, talking throughout the dark hour, forging a bond that cannot be broken, that allows ryoji to exist. minato humanizes death.

november. the bells toll, calling the appriser. and yet, it’s peaceful... quiet, and full of life. ryoji, who breaks free from death’s chains, refusing his role, is given the chance to live for a month. to make the most of the humanity that minato has given him over those ten years. and what a life he lived. ryoji’s life is a reflection of what minato’s life could have been like in another universe.

it is the way the two of them are reflections of each other. ryoji with his hair down is just like minato. they are both stubbornly committed to choosing to be kind, to love life, yet are chained down by the cards the narrative dealt them with. they finish each other’s sentences, knowing each other intimately in a way no one else does.

how is that, a boy who lived for only one month, profoundly changes the course of the narrative? he is simultaneously relevant and irrelevant. blink, and you miss it, the beautiful life that he led.

ryoji is horrified at the revelations of being the appriser. he who so desperately wished to forget that his existence was meant to bring the end to all life, was unable to escape the inevitability of death. in a non-human way, of course. he becomes remorseful. a shadow of his brief time as a human who was enamored by the small beautiful things that life had to offer.

he is swallowed by grief. grief knowing that his very existence will take away not only minato’s life, but everyone else’s. the very thing that ryoji loved- life, fundamentally went against the role he was born for- to be the harbinger of death. and unable to grapple with this sadness he believes that the best thing for minato to do is to kill him, so that SEES can live in bliss not knowing about their inevitable end.

SEES is left rattled, calling into question what the meaning of life is and what they do when faced against the inevitability of death.

and!!! minato chooses!! for ryoji to live!! even in spite of what ryoji is MEANT to embody, minato still stubbornly chooses to defy death itself! and if that’s not cool i don’t know what is!! minato wants everyone to have the chance to live!!

so he climbs. he ascends tartarus, to meet ryoji, again, who is now the nyx avatar. and i just think there’s something so so beautiful about being able to use messiah, minato’s ultimate persona, against nyx avatar.

messiah, being the fusion of orpheus and thanatos is peak ryomina to me. because ryoji and minato have established an unbreakable bond from having been entwined for 10 years, minato still has a piece of death with him, and by proxy!! ryoji is able to defy and rebel against nyx trying to bring the fall! and i think that’s fucking cool shit if you ask me!

even when all of the arcanas have been gone through, it’s still not enough to stop the fall. and yet. minato knows. in the way that ryoji was sealed in minato 10 years ago by aigis... minato becomes the great seal so that everyone can live. it comes full circle.

march rolls around. he fulfills his promise to SEES on graduation day. minato dies from exhaustion. but goddamn does his sacrifice make me weep- he’s had such, such a tiring journey. he’s been through so many things because he was at the wrong place at the wrong time. but at the end of it all, he’s reunited with ryoji in death.

and i think this is why ryomina continues to evoke so much emotions for me, to this day. the relationship that they have embodies so much of persona 3′s messages and themes that it makes me feel like a microwave with nothing running in it.

p3′s message is very hopeful, for me. my favorite takeaway from it is that even if death is inevitable, appreciating the life that we were given and choosing to live as best as we can with kindness (even if we can’t feasibly do everything), is just? really nice? and you see this manifest in both ryoji and minato’s personalities and what they do for the other characters.

ryomina just feels so distinct to me, the flavor that their relationship ties back to my favorite takeaways from this game and im just!! god!! i love you minato arisato! i love you ryoji mochizuki! im so glad that i could meet them! i’m happy that they changed my life! they made me want to appreciate the connections in life even if they were fleeting! they made me!! want to pay attention to the good moments in life and cherish them!

i love ryomina so much!!! i’m so glad that these two could bring so much joy into my life! and i hope that others can have this joy too! 💛💙

#lizzy speaks #persona 3 #ryomina #ryoji mochizuki #minato arisato #meta #long post #(literally)#HI SO UM YESTERDAY I COULDN'T FUCKING SLEEP so to cope i was like 'i will talk out loud about anything and everything'#and somehow that turned into me talking about ryomina out loud and something about verbalizing my thoughts made me feel crazy about these-#two again. i mean for the record i continue to love them always very dearly but like my p3 braincells sometimes go into hibernation bc-#ive been on a really huge splatoon kick. but anyway my voice was like cracking at 3am because i was tearing up #i was like 'THE!! IM! SO NORMAL ABT WHAT ORPHEUS AND THANATOS AND MESSIAH SYMBOLIZE' etc etc etc #so i kinda just went to sleep like 'ok well you GOTTA type it out. everyone needs to know about this.'#and um i didnt mean to make 1069 words! sorry! not really! but i love them!!! even if im very quiet these days!#ohhh how lucky i am to have had the chance to experience ryomina they are such a gem. they make me so goddamn emotional #they really mean a lot to me because of well. (gestures at the entire post) but also they came at a really good point of my life and FUCK!!#im so so grateful to them!!! i love them!!!! the themes that their relationship and characters convey just !! IM SO NORMAL ABOUT IT!!!#they've affected me so profoundly and deeply and i wish i could make better art to get this across. but its ok. one day i can. one day #they make me so fucking talkative like actually but um. i had a lot of fun writing this! i dont think ive had like. a proper appreciation-#post for them that articulates why i like them so much (unless you count the essays i write in my art tags) so it was nice to make this.#admittedly theres a lot abt p3 that im rusty on since its been a goodwhile since ive interacted with the source material #and in a way you could say that like. i need to renew my p3 license LMAOOO but god some parts of p3 still have such a huge death grip on me #and what i mean by that is that the big Fucking Events have such!! clarity!! in my mind!! i recall them and i wilt on the spot!!#oh god i cant fucking shut up. the tags are probably 500 words long. enjoy my ramble. i wish every ryomina enjoyer a Good Life <3 #actually no. i hope that EVERYONE on the dash today has something that sparks joy for them the way ryomina does for me.#everyone deserves 2 have something that makes their brain do a little excited dance that makes them blow up and explode. its good for u!#BYE FOR REAL this is why i have to post my thoughts very spread out otherwise yall would have so many WORDS on ur dash pls help i have so #many emotions and i am so tiny i cannot possibly fit all the feelings i have about ryomina and other things inside my tiny little body

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bluffmotel · 4 days

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Got a question that's been rattling around in my head that I just can't get over!! So imagine we actually got the hostage situation to carry on throughout the entirety of book two, right? I would love to hear how you'd think Vince would feel and react if he may or may not start feeling *things* about Tyler. Honestly, I'm curious how you think Vince would react in general (to maybe mayhaps perhaps feeling something for Tyler) but ESPECIALLY in this situation because ohhhh the layers of it all...

this question is actually everything to me, i hope you know! i saw this in my inbox and was immediately tickled to see you in it, and while i was excited to answer any potential asks you left, this sure was one that hit me like a bus - - in the best possible way! as i’ve said once or twice, i’ve thought about hostage vince a lot in the past, and so i’ll do my best to squeeze all of my thoughts down. ( and also, quick shout out to @andonutty, who’s done wonders for helping me understand vince better as a character a year ago! they were kind enough to beta read this as well and give some input, so credit where it’s due <3 )

so, vince and his feelings towards tyler are an entire can of worms on their own, outside and within this au. while i’ve talked about the eldest holt’s peculiar and intense emotions where it concerns vince before, i haven’t done the same for him, and it’s because i like the ambiguity of it all. in a way, it’s something up to player interpretation, a glimmer of a thing you can either go all the way with or snuff out. but even though such feelings are a decision you can make, as the player or a writer or what have you, there’s no denying that there are feelings there. the nature of them is just complex and heavily entangled, and decidedly not a priority for vince when there’s much more pressing issues at hand like his actual family. so he’s subtle about it! it’s important to note that while vince plays the ‘everyday man’ trope perfectly, he can display some rather insane behavior himself! despite his pacifism and jokey exterior, he isn’t exactly the perfect picture of a guy who’s mentally well -- he’s just been through something awful after all, but even outside of recent events there’s implications of a childhood forged in trauma and there’s an intensity about him too. an intensity that bursts out around tyler and michelle respectively! and it’s so unlike him, these little moments, to the point where anytime i’ve seen these options my eyes kinda widen and i’m like okay! so! this guy’s a little fucked up! the most notable instances with michelle are during the flashback, where our protagonist has good reason to believe his wife is cheating on him, a scene in the game that has many different options and outcomes, but here are some that spoke to me specifically in regards to decidedly ‘not normal’ behavior.

for one, there are two moments where vince can choose physical intimacy as a means of forgetting about their current, rather big, problem. like at the start, where he can drop the bruce topic and reciprocate michelle’s advances and desire for sex -- which he’s rather aggressive about, to the point where he firmly tells michelle to just let the phone ring and will look irritated when she decides not to listen. again! at this point, vince has a strong suspicion she’s lying and cheating on him! so i find the reaction strange, it’s just a little to the left, you know? it’s not something a normal person would do, and this becomes more prominent when he gets real confirmation that michelle has, in fact, cheated on him and then tried to gaslight him about it, and in response he can just. kiss her like he wants to eat her alive! again, or even for the first time! this isn’t even mentioning how crazy he looks when he snatches the phone away from her and nettles at bruce only to be like “weird, he hung up.” as the call ends. i find these scenarios fascinating because they are just so crazy to me, they’re little hints that imply flaws and insecurities inside someone who’s genuinely a good guy and i love it. and i also think it’s rather interesting that michelle was initially unfairly antagonistic towards vince when they first met. through a selection of choices you can find this information out and it’s rather surprising, to say the least! if i remember correctly, michelle was lost at an airport and vince noticed this and tried giving her directions - - being his usual friendly and helpful self! but for some reason michelle called security on him? i cannot stress enough this is how their love story starts, canonically. like she was so rude at first and vince chose to date her anyway, probably came out of this awkward interaction liking her in spite of this and who knows how the rest went, but these two didn’t have the best start either and got married. obviously, tyler does way worse! though it’s not like vince hasn’t shown an ability to forge fondness or forgive someone despite being hurt, something we’re shown time and time again with michelle and jim and, to an extent, jay most notably. which is important to me, knowing this is a huge possibility rather than something entirely ooc for him to do. anyway! on a more lighthearted note, i simply believe vince is just attracted to people who are unreasonably mean to him at first but kinda want / need him around anyway. probably a symptom from being severely bullied all his childhood and a general feeling of unwantedness from the people who were supposed to kindly care for him since birth ( aka jim! ) … but i digress!

back to his intensity, it’s rather striking how differently he reacts to tyler and dante, the two figureheads he is constantly pitted against and is consistently paired with. he is undeniably mad at the sheriff no matter what route you take and reasonably so! you can see his distaste and his disbelief, but you can’t taste the anger usually. there is never a moment in adf where you feel as though vince is truly spitting mad at dante, just like there’s never a choice for you to purposefully chase after him with the intent of causing harm. makes sense, right? vince, even when faced with injustice and loss and awful treatment, usually never wants more hurt, never wants to cause it, he will always take an out that leaves everyone alive and in one piece. this is literally told to us via jim in the car scene, where he has this to say about vince’s methods of handling people who wish him literal harm :

so no, he won’t passively take these beatings, but he won’t get violent either -- he will always try and find another way. the only reason he attacks dante so viciously ( to the point of believing he might’ve killed him ) is because dante was actively trying to murder and / or torture him and vince knew this for sure. it was him or dante, no ifs, ands, or buts. but then there’s tyler, and i mean just him and not dale or jay or even sharon, where vince can get excessively violent or cruel, in ways that almost feel undeserving when compared to what dante has done versus what tyler has done. in the span of three chapters, vince can a.) despite knowing the man for a couple minutes or an hour at most, he can tell tyler, and i quote, “you know you’re going to jail after this, and when you finally die there, you’re going straight to fuckin’ hell.” which literally made me gasp when i first heard this because jesus christ i do not think vince has ever been more mean in his life, and b.) try to shoot him with a shotgun at close range, and then finally c.) bash his head into concrete multiple times. so! compared to the worst he can do or say to dante, this is so much more than any of that. and it’s so strange, all this violence and visceral anger, because he has more moments with tyler where there’s a somber sort of softness and an almost understanding, where they almost click, and so these bursts of intensity don’t necessarily strike me as hatred. tyler gets under vince’s skin like nothing else and it’s laughable that he does, because he’s so bad at being the bad guy. he is literally the worst criminal ever! he doesn’t have a plan and he can’t do anything right and vince can find out pretty early on that he could whoop tyler’s ass if need be. nothing about this man is threatening ( even though he tries so hard to be ) and the second sharon appears, he becomes what he’s always been : just sharon’s stand-in. but despite dale being able to actually shoot his wife and sharon promising to look out for his family only to lie, vince beefs with tyler specifically and it’s just! fascinating! how physical they are with one another and how up each other’s asses they can be. even in the aftermath of trying to kill one another, they will slip into little things, little touches, so inappropriate to what they are to each other on a surface level : enemies.

and while tyler leads a majority of their scenes and acts outwardly crazy, vince is just as crazy about him, it’s just less noticeable and comes out in scenes where it could be expected … if, again, vince wasn’t framed as someone so hard to anger and someone who’s a bonafide pacifist. at best i usually read vince as being physically attracted to tyler during the desert dream, and he’s a little annoyed about that, subconsciously. but it’s kinda hard not to be when this super handsome guy does strange things like call him ‘good boy’ for getting on his knees, grabs his throat, and presses into him to the point their mouths are just a centimeter away.

again, vince probably isn’t thinking about it, yet these things stack up and it does breed this interesting sort of physical reaction. in a world where they weren’t entirely free of one another ( like the au i promise i’ll be discussing here soon! ) i can only imagine the weird trauma response vince would develop for tyler! the holt barely allowed him breathing room and was never not touching him, or watching him, or just being there and demanding to know every little thing vince could offer -- it’s a bodily sensation that would stick around for a long time, all intense and squirmy, and if zoe’s trauma towards jay can be viewed as bordering on romantic / sexual all because he covered her mouth with his hand, like. vince is in some deep trouble! which isn’t me trying to necessarily romanticize how tyler has traumatized vince, but it’s undeniably there and i do think it’s an interesting element to their relationship, be it romantic or platonic or antagonistic. especially since i firmly believe that under normal circumstances vince would like tyler a lot as a person ; find him cute, admire his laborer mindset, think his quiet demure nature is endearing, relate to his devotion to his family and the bitterness that comes with it, etc etc. they mesh together so well as a pair, in the desert dream and outside of it as people, it’s just more heavy than it normally would’ve been, you know? ( which is the tragedy in a way, how they could’ve been good for one another ) though i also think vince recognizes what tyler is, which is someone in the same position as him -- someone who’d rather take the punches and cruelty because the people in his pack are under his care, not the other way around. and maybe that’s why there’s an unbearable amount of ire aimed at the eldest holt in particular, because he’s the responsible one, the one who takes everything on the chin just like vince himself. so naturally they clash, and when they clash, it’s horrifically violent since they’ve both presented themselves as the ones to ‘take it’, and so they do. dale, jay, and sharon are extensions of tyler to vince in the beginning, perhaps, and michelle, jim, and zoe are just the baggage vince happens to be carrying to tyler. the others might fall because of bad luck or circumstance but if there’s any intentional violence dealt out, it’s going to be at each other : as the figureheads, as the metaphorical leaders ( no matter how false of one tyler is ), and so on. it always comes back to their complicated similarities and stark differences, and to them being foils and parallels in every way.

anyway! to sum all that up, tyler and vince are both attracted to each other ( as people, as roles, as friends, as more ) but while these feelings are intense for both of them, they’re still shallow, and neither party is aware of these inclinations just yet or what they could become, they’re both just acting on it without any second thoughts. i once described how tyler’s thing for vince was, and it was like this :

but then he meets vince, which is an instant hit -- it's like a lightswitch that's been turned on for the first time. he sees the light, yes, but he still has to explore the room.

and vince’s side of things could maybe be read similarly. it’s infatuation and curiosity and probably lust but with everything weighing on both their shoulders, and the chaos around them, and everything they’ve done to each other and will keep doing, they have lots of ‘exploring’ to do.

and god i could talk way more about these two from vince’s pov, tyler’s pov, and in general, and there’s so many things i haven’t rambled about with them yet, but for simplicity’s sake, let's discuss the actual questions you asked! i just felt it was prudent to lay out what vince might’ve felt towards tyler before, so that the rest of my thoughts on this matter would make sense.

now, to delve into this concept, i will say that a lot of this would depend on what one would choose to do with it, you know? there’s a lot of things that could happen if vince had stayed with the holts as a hostage, so there’d be a ton of fun questions to ask! such as : would the holts still split up, if they had a working car? or would they lose the car some other way? would the cabin scene still happen if not, or would it change, or would such a blow up between jay and tyler happen later on? what would their plans be? like, there’s loads of ground to play around with! so to keep this easy, i’ll try and focus more so on vince’s feelings ( towards tyler and towards the situation in general ) as well as some potential scenarios i’ve thought of, rather than trying to map out how’d i write all this -- although hints of my own opinions will be sprinkled in here, as that cannot be helped haha.

the biggest hurdle for vince would be giving up his family and resigning himself to a life on the run, obviously. his actions during the beginning of book two make complete sense to me, because being willing to trade spots with his young daughter is not the same as fully committing to a fugitive lifestyle ; vince, naturally, will always want to leave and would do anything to achieve this, all tunnel visioned and desperate. and as we quickly see, he wouldn’t care about temporarily attacking one of the holts to achieve this goal, because this is where vince’s needs begins clashing with theirs rather than being on the same road. he needs his family, and the family he’s stuck with are planning on hauling him across the country without a second glance back, meaning they are at a crossroads. in order for vince to stay we need to make this desire impossible to achieve, which is way easier than many would think! while the holts couldn’t hold him down forever, the law certainly could, because when you really think about it, the game heavily implies that our protagonist might become a wanted man at the end of book one even if it’s unjust or unfair. not only does he physically assault a sheriff who’s known to spin stories in his favor ( if you side with the holts anyway ), he also says this to tyler and sharon :

to be blunt, if vince didn’t die or get away from his captors as early as he did, and was stuck with them for a longer stretch of time, there’s just no way he wouldn’t be framed as someone as violent as the holts are. dante probably would sell the fbi and his department a story about how vince attacked him for two rock’s own wicked family, that he openly lied for them and stayed by their side until the very end … hell, he might say, he fuckin’ went with them willingly! that’s no hostage. and considering how callous the fbi acts when it comes to sweeping the truth under the rug, the likelihood of them taking this story and running with it is high. after all, it doesn’t look good to say a hostage attacked a police officer, that would imply the law was somehow worse than these would-be terrorists, and they can’t have that now, can they? this sort of plot would further hone in on adf’s overall ‘the law is just as bad as the people they’re trying to punish’ theme and it’d make it impossible for vince to go back to his family and live a normal life, something which would devastate us because we fought so hard for him to have a life he wants. whether that be with michelle or not, whether he forgives jim or not, whether he’s taking the settlement money or fighting the airline -- all those choices made for vince would be rendered meaningless in an instant, it would be something taken away from him simply because he’s a good dad and maybe felt too much sympathy for the holts, maybe cared for them more than he should’ve. the second vince learns of his real fugitive status ( which would be easy, they’d be all over the radio and the papers and tv ) he’d have no choice but to buckle in, accept his fate … an outcome that would finally allow for him to start thinking long term, start forming actual bonds with the holts, and all that fun stuff. his knee jerk reaction and pure primal instincts to go, go, go, would fade, re-allowing actual thought and opinions and feelings back in.

( this isn’t to say vince couldn’t, potentially, get out! if caught by law enforcement, he could always just tell the truth and throw the holts under the bus. he could always wiggle away from the family of misfits anyway, and figure something out on his own. but this is the bed he’s made and he’ll lie in it, probably, at least for a little while )

this situation also wouldn’t do him any favors mentally, per se, if we’re to tinker with how he’s dealing with all of this! but a lot of his struggle would be internal, just like how we see in the desert dream -- less likely to air his baggage, all compartmentalized, constantly preoccupied with moving forward rather than what he needs to sort through. throughout the game we consistently see vince struggle to confront his problems or his trauma in particular! michelle mentions as such in their fight, claiming he never talks to her about his struggles with finding a job, that he’s completely shut her out, and we see him withdraw from telling her about his dream regarding his current issues. now, do i think that michelle made it hard to talk to her about these things? yes! but vince still has an avoidance problem, and if left with other options, he will always be tempted to choose a path that avoids his insecurities and fears and wounds being exposed. jim also offers the ( rather obvious ) insight of vince using humor to deflect and to hide how badly he’s been hurt by something or someone -- like, this is a core aspect of his character. so it’s safe to say that while vince would be spiraling, it’d probably be pretty secret and he’d be shoving it down for the sake of his, and the holts’, survival. it’d definitely still weigh on him though! i feel like loneliness would settle in on vince hard, a sense of grief that would be tripled tenfold if michelle had died that night, because he has lost everything. and that sort of pain doesn’t leave no matter how skilled you are at avoiding it ; his skin would burn with how much he misses michelle and zoe and even jim, which would throw him for a loop, missing the company of someone who he thought was dead up until six months ago. but he would! he’d want that stupid house in missouri and to see zoe off to her next grade, whatever grade it is, and to give her back her owl and tell her it worked wonders for him when he was totally scared in the dark. this longing would bury itself under his skin and it’d never fully lighten up, despite the fact it wouldn’t feel like it’s inside him at all. he might forget its existence, too caught up in half-assed plans and living another day and the holts and their addictive orbit, but it’d be there. along with regret ( him lamenting on choices he’s made, for a brief moment, would be interesting and likely -- but it’d also be fun, in the sense of vince wishing for different outcomes, outcomes he could’ve made, given adf’s choice based medium ) and anger, though he wouldn’t aim it at the holts anymore at that point. just at himself, and the cops, and dante, and maybe even michelle or jim or the airline for making them move at all, just this general discontentment with everything around him. all this exhaustive irritation but no one to really blame … oh he’d be a mess, but just like in book one, he’d power through so fiercely it’d be hard to remember he’s just as broken apart as tyler and jay, and sharon i suppose.

speaking of sharon … if vince knew her for a prolonged period of time and was stuck around her sons as well, he’d quickly start to dislike her to be honest! as someone with a child of his own, i just can’t imagine that his hackles wouldn’t raise when seeing how she treats tyler, and how she will passively sit by and allow her sons to fight as they do, let them talk to each other like that. he’d pretty quickly figure out what their deal is and unlike tyler, who can understand how fucked their lives have been but can’t accurately place the blame, vince would realize sharon is just as culpable as their dad was for why they’re like that. he’d see through her facade and her lies, perpetually unable to fall for her smokescreens and woe-is-me attitude, because he’s not desperate to appease her, familially or sexually or romantically. i adore sharon, but she is extremely selfish despite her claims of just being a mother and a wife who cares too much -- and vince, who’s selfless to a fault where it concerns his own family, someone who’d jump in front of a train three times over for his own kin, wouldn’t be able to forgive that sort of nature. especially knowing what it’s done to tyler, jay, and dale. her entire relationship with her eldest son would squick him out almost, i think, since he’s now forced to see it all the time ; how badly tyler thinks he needs her, how he’s devoted to the point of sacrificing anyone else for her sake, the mental image of him giving his life away and still taking her punishments like he’s six instead of twenty-five. things would click for him finally and the picture isn’t pretty! this sort of disdain would also stem from my personal belief that vince’s relationship with his own mother was -- not super similar, but she leaned on him a lot after jim left, maybe was even struggling with some mental health problems of her own. given how uncomfortable he gets when his childhood is brought up and how little he ( or michelle or zoe ) speak of his mother, i just see the relationship as strained! like, he’s been there, being an adult woman’s dependent when he shouldn’t have been, and vince actually realized that and wiggled away, whereas tyler has not. so it’d be personal to him for a lot of reasons!

vince looks at tyler and sees someone he could’ve been had it not been for the better resources he probably had, and there’s no real way to easily describe that sort of feeling ; staring into a warped mirror and seeing someone who so clearly isn’t you, but is, and seeing scenes play out that make your skin crawl because that’s you. it was almost you. but it’s not … so, yeah, he simply isn’t drinking the ‘sharon is basically the queen’ kool aid and while he’d try to work with her, maybe even pity her to some degree in spite of himself, they’d most likely start butting heads sooner or later! and i also wouldn’t put it past sharon to try charming vince either, given her track record with all the known men in her life and her own subtle desperation to not be alone, but he couldn’t be less interested, so thankfully if she tried most of these attempts would just go over his head lol. in a scenario where vince was forced to stay, his and sharon’s dynamic would be interesting! mostly because they don’t exactly have one, and his thoughts on her ( and her thoughts on him ) are vague enough that you could do whatever with. but! i personally believe vince wouldn’t like her based on who he is as a person, which leads back into his relationship with tyler and jay, who are people he can already be sympathetic to.

honestly, after getting to know them better and seeing how they ( more specifically tyler ) have been treated their whole lives, i could see vince becoming rather protective of them. he’d be inclined to where jay is involved anyway, given his baby faced appearance and overall meek nature -- and it isn’t like jay hasn’t tried to look out for him and zoe wherever he could back at the motel. jay is a good kid and vince knows this! tries to give him hope even in his hopeless situation, an idea for a better future someday, one that involves seeing yellowstone like he wanted to do. it’s lies at this point, but we see how soothing vince can become ( and how much his sympathy increases ) when he gets to know the boy just a little better. it helps humanize the holt boys, finally giving vince that last stretch of understanding he was almost getting but ultimately lacking, and he’d be all the more compassionate for it. tyler can only tell him so much in the back office ; vague footnotes about how their hand was forced, this impression of death hanging over his family from ‘these people’, it’s enough in the moment to garner his commiseration, yet tyler isn’t telling him “our pa was a deadbeat who gambled our money away, tried killing himself to fend off mafia-like loan sharks, only to then leave us with thousands of dollars in debt we either have to pay or be slaughtered over.” you know? then there’s a childhood bathed in emotional and physical abuse, a life lived as an outcast in their small town because of their holt heritage … it’s, frankly, a lot! and while jay nor tyler would be jumping at the opportunity to talk about this, there’d be signs and little tells and emotional explosions that could paint a pretty vivid image. if vince saw the cabin scene, for example, everything i’ve mentioned thus far would ring true : he’d feel for and understand tyler’s predicament and jay’s entire life being a lie, as well as looking at sharon with distaste over how she’s treated them both and how she’ll let the fight between the two escalate into genuinely concerning violence. like, you know vince would’ve broken that fight up entirely! and he would’ve chased them into the woods to try and stop tyler ( from potentially killing jay ) and jay ( from running away ). would he be successful? who knows! his mere presence might make things worse, since tyler can’t even try being normal around him, but this sort of peacekeeping and general sense of looking out for them both would be prominent. call it him being protective, call it his nature, it’s still an aspect he’d carry when forced to stick around. they’re all victims of circumstance in his eyes after a while, and they’re all just trying to make due with what life’s given them. of course, this isn’t to imply he couldn’t grow angry or irritated or frustrated with jay or tyler! that he couldn’t hold resentments. but he’d be a bit softer than what we usually saw in the desert dream. i mean, how could he not be? it also helps that vince would quickly start viewing them as a unit rather than hostage vs captors since things get more serious and i could see him trying to use them as a way to ease his yearning for his actual family.

with jay and sharon aside, let's touch back on tyler and vince again, since there’s so much more to say about them in this situation. sadly, while they’d be allowed to explore their intense emotions for each other more than usual, i don’t believe they’d ever naturally come to any real conclusion about it, even still, not unless it was a couple years down the line and honestly? they might just be comfortable in their blurry relationship, content with it while still navigating ways to survive. though i’m getting ahead of myself! so, firstly, tyler would become unbearably suffocating with vince had he stayed, an echo of his constant hovering and watching in book one except now it’s all the time. i don’t need to cover his various moments with vince in book one ( as much as i’d love to ), but this behavior extends very briefly into book two as well. here’s another snippet of me discussing tyler’s thought process and mindset and the implications of this tiny moment, as shown below :

like this is sharon, of all people. holt's personal patron saint. their reigning dictator. the usual object of tyler's blind admiration and respect. and she is talking to him, about dale, about things he brought up first ... and he almost looks distracted. fidgety. in ways he never usually is when it comes to soaking in her words, much less when paying rapt attention to her commanding gestures. but that's waning. because tyler can't help himself, when it comes to vince ; has to keep glancing back towards the car, in a desperate attempt to keep said man in his line of sight. and doesn't that just prove tyler's mind isn't entirely there for sharon to begin with? if he's so worried and concerned and drawn towards something else? there's this permanent etch in his brain, this growing crevice dipped deep within, that's dedicated entirely to instinctual needs and vince walker. it comes as easy as breathing. it's not about just how little tyler trusts jay to watch over vince, it's the fact he thinks himself the only one capable of it. that he wants to be the one chaining vince down, or keeping vince in his place, keeping vince around him. this need to share the same space, have him in his eye as a forever fixture is very … um! controlling of him. embarrassing yes, since it's beyond needy, but possessive and controlling nonetheless. behaviors all of which tyler displayed earlier too, when he was constantly up vince's ass over minor things : what're you doing? he's always asking, hovering near. taking stock in where vince is and his name and his family and just him. it's about how the first time tyler is in a room full of hostages he never stopped looking directly at vince. not once. this second sense would increase tenfold in a fugitive au ... and it'd be good, since nobody would find it weird or sniff out his true intention. his obsession. so on. he's just keeping their hostage in check! he's just distrustful, he's cautious, he's being responsible and sensible when he laments that he'll share a crappy motel bed with vince because, can't be you, he'd tell sharon so earnestly, cause what if vince hurts her? they need her. that can't happen. and jay ain't got what it takes. too soft, too bleeding hearted for vince already. but we all know his true intentions don't we lol <3 anyway im normal i just think vince has such a chokehold on tyler, even before ... anything serious. he's making tyler do things he'd never do before. acting out, being violent and petty and childish, longing for companionship, wanting, and he's. making tyler drift from sharon, of all things. like this picture kills me that woman is this man's sole reason for everything, she's his identity, and despite that he's still sneaking glances at vince. isn't that insane?

like, tyler would want to be fully responsible for vince and would see that as his job, as mentioned above! they’d be squeezed together all the time and vince would most likely grow used to this constant company, it’d be something that’s already wormed its way into his new life and routine. there’d be a level of : of course it’s tyler, it’s always tyler, a sentiment heavy with exhaustion and bemusement and shaky acceptance, perhaps. he’d maybe even seek out his company, given the inherent trauma response embedded into their watcher and watched dynamic! and there’d be plenty of new peculiar moments … they could be alone for extended periods of time or crammed together in a car, a room, a bed, a bike -- there would be no more laws or wives or troublesome hostage negotiations to really get in their way, and they’d finally be on the same side, even if everything’s still so strained. but as i said, they probably wouldn’t fully understand what any of this means, because there’d still be something important, their actual priority, which would be survival. they’d be in survival mode all the time and when you’re constantly pumped with adrenaline and fight or flight instincts and you’re always paranoid, there’s not a lot of breathing room to properly explore any potential fondness or chemistry. vince would be too preoccupied with living to notice anything amiss with tyler in particular, and tyler ( despite all his obnoxious wanting ) would still believe he sees vince as a troublesome brother figure rather than anything else, or some sort of personal problem. so that’s what i mean by saying their relationship would blur and they wouldn’t think of deepening it, per se. there’s a lot they could brush off or simply just not think about when constantly on the run, dealing with their own baggage, and the other two people they’re saddled with! if they shared a bed or a section of the floor and vince got handsy? well, vince just spoons in his sleep ( a canon fact, btw ), and he’s held his wife in bed for a decade plus, so it’s just instinct for him and it can’t be helped, and tyler’s warm and insists on being that close anyway. if tyler’s touch lingers when helping vince stitch up a wound, or when he’s checking for injuries after a car crash? he’s just thorough like that, and isn’t done belittling vince, and if it’s a burn that lingers that’s just the actual wound, not the touch itself. if vince tries figuring out what jokes get tyler to stare blankly or which ones rile him up and make him spit out a “you damn idiot,”? if tyler presses a little too close when randomly deciding vince needs to learn how to shoot a gun proper? if the two of them have moments in the night inbetween smokes and rests where one of them blurts out a story, or a regret, or a thought they’ve kept close? it’s definitely not weird or charged and they simply wouldn’t think too hard on it, much less vince, who’d be fighting to keep them all afloat i’m sure. like i could see tyler maybe dwelling on vince more than vince would dwell on him, though it’s not because our protagonist isn’t feeling whatever heavy thing is rumbling between them. he’s just busy, and traumatized, and since his last relationship ended so poorly he’s not really thinking too hard about being back on the market. and these two would be more likely to kiss each other on impulse ( which, isn’t that all they’ve ever done with one another? react and react passionately? ) then they would be to come to the rather normal conclusion of huh, i might like that guy! though if they ever got that far, vince would probably take it better than tyler would, besides the occasional reasonable thought of ‘isn’t this kinda concerning?’ and he might have an overall nervousness about their age gap, which vince would probably be more aware of due to the whole ‘fat pervert preying on young hotties’ stereotypes, so he could feel a little weird and gross about it! but he’s also more emotionally mature than tyler by thirty miles, so i don’t see him getting too hung up on that for long.

tyler on the other hand would probably lose his mind! mostly because wanting something is horrifying as a holt, but also because he’s tyler, and he’s realizing the depths of his desire and it’s rather. scary and new and different, to say the least! and they’d still be on the run with his mother and jay … so, it’d be overwhelming already on its own, much less when they’re living a life so unbelievably dangerous. however! to not put it in so many words : yes, i believe vince would start feeling things for tyler since he already was back at the motel, they’d just become more overt and would cement more firmly, and he wouldn’t be aware of them until he was, and he’d handle it maturely for the most part. if tyler wants it then he’s down. if tyler doesn’t then, yeah, that makes things weird because they’re stuck together and now he feels like a creep, but he’d try hard to respect his wishes. he might not succeed, though an honest effort would be given! again, vince has leagues of relationship experience and was literally married with a kid, he can handle some puppy love or a little fooling around. it’d be weird and disconcerting that it’s tyler holt of all people, a young man and someone who’s been his literal captor ( they’ve hurt each other, badly, worse than vince has ever hurt anyone he loves before ), but oh well, he’s way past normal at this point. they’ll never exist within the law again so why not be a little crazy and stupid about it?

hmm, i don’t think i can word the rest of my thoughts into words right now? this seems like a solid beginning, and i think i’ve left plenty of things to mull over and unpack already. i always get nervous at the end of these answers because i can’t fully tell if my rambling is coherent or not -- and i always have to hold myself back from dropping every tiny bit of evidence on minor opinions i've formed, or derailing from the answer so entirely to make a bunch of separate metas about these characters or relationships at once. what can i say! i love being thorough and my passion for what i love can’t be contained! but yeah, those are my thoughts on what vince might generally feel like in this situation, or towards tyler when they’re in such a tense predicament. naturally, i have more notes and random situations i’ve toyed with … just little things! like, vince being a surprisingly better criminal than the holts for starters, it’s in his blood after all given how good at crime jim was, and vince is overall competent and has a good head on his shoulders already. he can also adjust to a tense situation. etc. and if it wasn’t obvious, i enjoy a good situation where vince and tyler are forced to share a bed. mostly because you could swing it in a way that makes sense, but also because vince literally says :

so. awkward spooning is a go! i absolutely adore it, since vince clearly would and tyler would be so utterly appalled by such a loving gesture -- though he’d be unable to turn it away at the same time. he’d just go really still, like he’s been confronted with a wild animal that’s gonna kill him … and he wouldn’t sleep a wink, and maybe he’d get all hot under the collar and. well. you get the point! it’s fun! and can happen in a fugitive vince au. i also think they’d probably head north towards canada as a flock or just agree to go to belize, because vince would hear them say that they’re still going to mexico and reasonably would be like “are you nuts? you told the police you were going there! we should be heading in the opposite direction!” and vince might have to actually kill someone for the holts, for real this time, and having that genuine blood on his hands ( blood he’s carrying for a family that isn’t his ), and knowing it’s further proof he can’t go home? that’s juicy! thinking about how they’d get food, gas, how they’d rotate for rest, the way their bodies would crumble beneath their never ending march forward - - it’s interesting to me! there’s so many angles you could take with this au and so many scenarios you could cook up, meaning it all just feels like so much fun, you know? maybe jim, michelle ( if alive ), and zoe are looking for vince, maybe sharon still tries chasing after paul, maybe tyler’s leg still gets busted somehow, maybe jason fucking dorland and vanessa try helping our wayward fugitives but jason’s only trying to save vince who he believes to be falsely framed due to witness accounts and vanessa just does it because she wants her totally sexy boyfriend. maybe vince dies at the end, maybe he goes with jay to canada or travels to mexico with tyler or ends up in belize with sharon and paul or maybe he’s by himself and the missing is suddenly worse because he does miss the holts, in some sort of fucked up stockholm syndrome way. maybe jim’s stalker locates vince in the pursuit of his father and everyone from book one is brought back together due to this, somehow. maybe we go back to the abandoned remains of the desert dream motel for a finale and get joyce involved in the plot once more. again, the world’s your sandbox when it comes to this au because of how much book two would change fundamentally, and who doesn’t love some good creative freedom? we could be here all day discussing possibilities! but uh, i think i answered the actual questions here, which was less about that and more about vince’s feelings, so i hope this tangent was an inspiring bonus!

as always, thanks so much for this ask! it means the world to me that someone cares for my thoughts, especially in regards to this niche game, but i enjoy airing them and keeping this tiny fandom alive as much as possible. feel free to send in more ofc <3 and enjoy this behemoth of an answer. sorry for the multiple tangents.

#as dusk falls #answered asks.#oh my god this was. so much longer than i expected it to be but i loved every second of it!!!#and im only just realizing you might’ve wanted a tyler/vince essay rather than a fugitive au one in general but oh well <3 #if needed i’ll answer any other questions about them because i could talk about them for hours #and the fugitive vince au has been scratching at my brain because of you so! i HAD to get this out there #( and feel free to take any inspo from this if you DO write this au like you’ve mentioned btw 👀 just saying )#but yeah. phew. can you tell that i love vince and tyler’s parallels and i love the fact vince canonically spoons in his sleep yet?#i only mentioned it 100 times LMFAO um #god yeah i know this is a lot. sadly my essays are just built like that #and i swear i had things to say for the tags here but my brain has fallen out of my ass so <3 just take this for now!!!#also yes i copy and pasted some of my discord ramblings to my partner and miscellaneous servers in here dont mind me #the amount of content i have hidden in my notes app and discord alone is probably insane. thank god i could include some of that in here #WAIT EDIT : it’s important to me that tyler meeting vince is a catalyst for him realizing he wants more for himself #like there is just something about that. god.

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halfusek · 1 year

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<- he has realized that he hasn’t been reblogging anything from the bendy and the ink machine tag for the last 3 months

i’ve been scrolling down for nearly an hour and i still didn’t get to where i left off... SCROLLING. MOVING THE PAGE AT A FAST SPEED. it’s gonna. it’s gonna take a while for me to reblog everything i missed.

oh dear

#um warning to the new followers that came here during my inactivity i guess #i go on Wil reblogging sprees so #brace yourself for a lot of bendy content on your dash lmao #its also gonna take a long time because im silly goofy and i like to write my thoughts about everything i see #so thats gonna be fun #dont get me wrong i genuinely like doing this #i was hoping i could start a bit before going to sleep but thats. not happening. i didnt reach where i left off #and i need to go to sleep #TToTT #they wasnt lying that dark can revival #halfpost

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spatio-rift · 11 months

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this concludes my saipsi reread. thank you everyone for being there with me on this journey

#i kind of skimmed through the last volume and ill have to go back to it tomorrow to finally #update and finish my every saiko collection.... but its late so i need to go to sleep #i will try to draw......................um....................i guess eventually (i can make no promises)#<- i just never really have a lot of ideas.... or motivation.... but well find a way #ALSO this time i would like to actually write my fics and not just think about them #these are my plans for the future. thank you for listening.

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sanchoyo · 1 year

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actually actively getting annoyed at myself bc i have SO many wips rn. bc i cannot sit and finish any single one. i used to be so good abt finishing one thing before doing the next but all ive been able to do are scribbles lately (a lot of which I cant even post yet augh. bc theyre too small to post outside of a doodle dump so I want to wait until I have a couple of them, or cant post bc they contain spoilers)

I want to make a nice fully rendered piece so bad but my brains not allowing it. and NOW i have the itch to redo my oc playlist portraits bc every time i open spotify and see them I Recoil.....help 😭

#...........would u guys believe me if i said i had 30+ oc wips.......#like art wips we arent counting writing ones because um. well. *sweeps those under the rug for now* hahah....we arent counting those.#:/#sanchoyorambles #also i am having trouble sleeeeping i should be asleep rn the melatonin hasnt been super helping idk if its just bc its only 10 mg or what #ive been having bizarre dreams too and idk if thats bc of the melatonin or just regular nightmares bc ive always had weird n vivid dreams #aaaggh #i had a dream i was dead (but like very aware like a ghost) and i was trying to stop a home invasion (as a ghost)#and another dream where i was mopping a flooding 'Jacuzzi Room' (idk what that is either but it was flooding BAD)#it was just a room with a hot tub off to a corner and NOTHING else which is kind of really funny actually #but i felt like i was mopping for HOURS and woke up exhausted T_T wtf #anyway gonna try to force myself to sleep then maybe do the spotify thingies when i wake up #i..will do them fast #its only like..um...6? 6 playlists?#7??#thats not TOO many portraits to do in 1 day. i can do that #the playlists in general need to be revamped too ngl

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nightly-ruse · 1 year

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I swear I’m working on art it’s just taking a long ass time bc I have A LOT OF SHIT to catch up on. Um also it’s another hypoparents things sorry

#also mega gay um not so sorry about that #I want to finish it so bad but every time I do I am put back to work on my actual important things #which is good so I’m not even more behind but incredibly frustrating #all I want to do is finish these cats but nooooooo #anyways I also only want to draw mothwing so um that’s what’s happening #can feel a little bit of a breakdown teetering on the edge of my mind but I’m avoiding it #would rather not breakdown. if it does happen atleast I knew beforehand #ruse rambles #I am very rambley bc I don’t want to go to sleep I hate sleep it is very stressful for me #having to wait for it to take over is the worst but also waking up paralyzed from nightmares sucks #it’s not like sleep paralysis it’s my brain thinking someone is behind me and if I move one bit they’ll attack #so Im stuck there willing myself to jsut swing around and get up #also can’t sleep facing the other way bc I roll and throw shit at night #then I wake up bc my blanket and pillow are gone #also also think my mom might be uh in bad health atm her coughing is getting really bad and she keeps #puking form the coughing. little sister is not helping with her constant fighting and trying to get out of school #moms on the edge of sending her off to therapy lol kinda funny but also not bc she’s causing so much stress on everyone #I’m going to shut up before I cap out on tags also need to write my daily report tjing so I’m going to do that bye sorry for the tags :)

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dark-twist-fairytales · 2 years

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Man, these two bros just need some sleep

I swear, I started this at 19:45. It's now 23:30. As an added bonus, here's a little sketching of Konrad and Calvin. And no, I won't tell you which one is which.

One is with rough lineart and the other is the pre-line. Yes, these are easy characters to draw because they're based off of stick figures. And side profiles because I worked hard on them and they look adorable

#konrad bukowski #calvin bukowski #twins bros need sleep!#also if you see the numbers um.. ask away #ignore my atrocious hand writing. i dont write 'z's that way naturally #the henry stickmin collection #my art!

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hecksupremechips · 3 months

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Ooooooghhhhhhhhh stressed 🥺

#dont wanna see family tomorrow and im sleeping saur bad lately i couldnt sleep last night and then had a typical fever dream #which gave me a really cute idea for a movie so im gonna keep it in my pocket #but it was one of those things where its like it says a whole lot about me and my trauma and its stressful #um um um and also im juggling all these different things like im sewing im trying to finally write im trying to draw again #while feeling like im failing at it all and then like i still gotta find fuckinnnnn job i neeeeeed money #this time of year is always really hard for me i hate when its warm again i hate easter and i hate knowing that summer is coming #aaghhhh rn im ticking and stimming really bad and im having trouble breathing hnnghhh #and im very sweaty lol i always get so sweaty when i dont sleep good i dont get it #also i think im just horrible like the one person i wanna talk to probably is getting tired of my constant life crisis and how needy i am #and theyre probably off being better without me there and im just a burden and then my therapist idk about him #i dont feel like hes really giving me anything like when i talk about how stressed and unsafe i am hes like you gotta find a way to cope #and he doesnt really tell me how exactly i should do that like mate thats why im here i need the help you cant just listen to me panic and #go ‘wow you need to fix that’ ughhhh and i think hes mad at me because i dont think he believes me anymore when i say im in an abusive #situation and that ive been controlled my whole life by everyone and i have never felt safe #and its just like ughhh like i feel like no one believes me anymore and theyre all fed up with my bullshit incompetence and constant #bellyaching and im a horrible friend and a liar and probably just being dramatic as fuck making myself believe im being abused when in #reality im the abuser the ungrateful brat who treats his family like shit and cant trust them even though they seem so perfect to everyone #and im so stupid and toxic for trying to run away and for being scared to death here #thats how its feeling anyway idk everyone is just. weird and im losing my grip on reality and cant tell whats real anymore

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letstrywritingmaybe · 3 months

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Anyone else following Never Let Me Go by lotus451 cause I am amazed. I’ve always said reading CoAi fics in Chinese hits different but man this one is just… I don’t even have words. I should really leave a comment at this point, but I’m afraid it’s going to end badly and I don’t deal with that well. Plus there are certain things that I just don’t enjoy reading, like I get why it has to be there but I’m not fond of it (basically any mention of the canon ship being a thing is an automatic no for me. I could care less. If they’re going to break up then I need to see it happen already, I don’t want to see them be cute together. Literally nothing makes me nope out quicker. Except for maybe first person pov in English. I’m really not fond of reading that in fics. I’ve been so spoiled in my main fandom that my standards are too high) But this author has written fics I’ve really enjoyed so I’m still continuing to silently read. Again bad habit I know, cause it’s fun to comment on every chapter and cheer the author on, but man I can’t. I’m already too invested as is, if I leave my long comments every chapter and it ends badly? I’m going to lose my shit and maybe swear off fics forever. I can’t deal with it. I hate bad endings, they hold no value to me and will never make me think oh yes this is how it’s done. The fics that stay with me and I think of as masterpieces are the ones that give my ship the happily ever they deserve. Few exceptions cause I do have favorite authors I would read just about anything for, but there’s currently not one for this fandom that is active. My favorite fics will always be the ones that end happily even if they’ve been through some bullshit. But again I read fics for comfort and for stuff that canon won’t give me. If I wanted to be sad and angry then I would just follow canon cause that’s a bunch of bullshit at this point. Just end the series. Stop dragging it on and making everyone suffer.

Anyways, still all about self indulgent writing and the author being the one to make their choices for their story. I just don’t have to like it and that’s fine as long as I’m not being an ass and commenting unsolicited thoughts to them. People who do that suck and for real need to get a new hobby. It’s not hard to just shut up and press the x to close the tap. Go rant about it with your friends or ramble like I do on my blog that no one reads. But don’t be an asshole to the author. Just don’t.

#cynply rambling #I really do enjoy seeing more fics pop up in our tag #I don’t always vibe with them but hey it’s just not meant for me and that’s totally fine!#they do make me think about how I would make the verse though #most of the time it’s I wouldn’t cause I don’t like those things #but sometimes I’m like oh but what if it went this way? to something I prefer #I’ve been thinking about more risqué fic ideas lately but I think it’s cause the fake dating one is dicey #and also the rated ones are hit or miss with me #like yes I’m happy to see it cause we need more smut for this ship cause they’re definitely sexually compatible #I say this as a person who identifies as ace #but also because I’m ace I’m like um yeah no. that’s too much for me #and I know I shouldn’t be saying shit cause I’m guilty of this too but man the ooc annoys the fuck out of me #but again I’m forever a hater and refuse to believe he’s cool #canon tries to sell me on that too much and I’m just rolling my eyes and saying next #and on that note it’s time to sleep and continue planning my stories in my mind that I won’t write #if I wrote down every fic I play out in my head I would have thousands of fics posted #cause I go through a new verse every few days sometimes weeks if it’s a longer idea with sequels and such

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jamminvroomvroom · 4 months

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no more mister shy guy.

OP x fem!reader

in which you can’t work out why he just won’t sleep with you

i am neither normal, nor am i hinged! i hope you guys get the vision, i literally wrote this last night possessed by some feral urge bc i just love oscar sm and i’ve been needing to write for him sooo baaad. enjoy! pls lemme know what you think <3

songs to set the vibes: delicate by taylor swift, good looking by suki waterhouse, my kind of woman by max demarco, feeling myself by wolf alice

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, pwp but also there is some plot? overstimulation, crying in a hot way, choking, unprotected sex (L bozo don’t do that!) the most minor moment of angst, fluff

2.8k words

you watch him make coffee, daydreaming, balancing your heavy head on your hand. you study him while your free hand taps against the kitchen counter, nails drumming a random beat. sunlight streams through a gap in the curtains, framing him golden. you don’t think he knows how pretty he is.

oscar is oblivious to the way your mind is ticking behind him, twisting the cap on the carton of oat-milk. you hear the plastic fall onto the counter and your tongue wets your lower lip as he reaches up into the cupboard, his back flexing beneath his shirt as he finds your favourite mug. you realise then how swollen your lip is, snapped out of the trance he had you in, the one that had you biting your lip so hard, completely mindlessly.

he’s bulked up over the winter break, filled out a lot over the course of his rookie season. he’s no longer the scrawny, anxious guy you’d met at your fathers work event a year ago, he’s broader, thicker in your hands, utterly delicious. as much as you like the way he looks, you like his mind a whole lot more. if only you knew what was going on inside it.

oscar is an enigma, quiet, hilariously dry, the kindest man you’d ever had the pleasure of meeting. you’ve been together since the start of the winter break, november, after awkward run ins and plenty of pining since the start of his first season. you’d travel to races with your dad, a mclaren sponsor, and run into the australian, stare at each other and pretend no one noticed. after months of teasing from lando, oscar finally got the kick up the arse that he needed and you’d said yes to dinner before he’d even finished asking the question.

it’s february now, a week til he needs to be in bahrain. the last three months had been serene, spent with a man made of sunshine, and you’re sad to see him go, as if you won’t be in the emirates a mere four days after him. you fear the way you’ll ache for him, having been inseparable since the dinner that started it all.

but then again, it can’t be worse than the way you ache for him now.

“sweetheart?” oscar is waving his hand in front of your face when you realise he’s been calling your name for a good 15 seconds, and you have, in fact, been staring. hm? you jump, staring at him bewildered. he looks amused. “you okay?” he coos, sliding the coffee across the island towards you.

“yeah, sorry, i, um, i just- why won’t you have sex with me?” you blurt, slapping your hand over your mouth as soon as you realise what you’ve just said.

oscar just blinks, mouth forming a little o, the permanent blush he seems to have increasing tenfold. you instantly feel guilty for ambushing him, but you were at the end of your tether. three months of nothing, nada, zilch. every move you made was refuted, ignored as if he was oblivious. you were ravenous for him, he’s so gorgeous! and you didn’t want to pressure him, but you were starting to feel like there was something wrong with you.

you’d wake up in bed with him wrapped around you, grinding against your ass in his sleep, and you’d revel in it, the rare times that he actually seemed to want you like that. you loved him regardless, of course you did, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t need to be… dealt with. urgently.

“i- um- what?” oscar splutters, and the bottom of his mug blinks against the granite.

“is there something wrong with me? am i not pretty enough?” you whisper, shy. “do you just not… like- do you not want to do that?” you ramble.

panic fills his face, and he’s rushing around the island, by your side in an instant. he takes your hands into his, finding your eyes. they’ve grown watery, a mixture of guilt and desperation swirling in them which makes him feel ill.

“baby, no, god no.” he rushes the words out, desperate to convince you that it wasn’t you. “you’re the most beautiful person in the entire world, prettiest girl i ever saw.” he promises. “i’m just… it’s scary.”

“oh, osc.” your face falls, and you want to throw yourself off of the balcony. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to pressure you. if it makes you feel better, i’m scared too. but i love you so much, i just want to feel even closer to you.”

“you didn’t make me feel pressured, i’m just sorry i made you feel unwanted. trust me, i want you like that. drives me insane. but i’ve never had sex before with someone that i love. not the way i love you, anyway. scared that i won’t be good enough for you.” he murmurs.

you’re hung up on the part where you drive him crazy, the part where he loves you like that, and then you remember how vulnerable he’s being, baring his entire soul to you, and you rip yourself from the fantasy.

your hands smooth over his shoulders, until you’re softly fisting a clump of hair at the nape of his neck.

“i love you. insanely. we’ll go slow.” you state. he moulds further against you, and you quickly realise it’s for leverage, because the next thing you know, you’re in his arms. he has his hands hooked under your thighs and he’s kissing you so, so deeply that you’re dizzy. you don’t realise that you’re halfway to his bedroom until he pulls away.

“i don’t wanna go slow anymore.”

oscar places you on your feet at the end of his bed, the large, plush king-sized mattress that is currently calling both of your names. your blouse gets unbuttoned first, his hands shaking in a way that makes you melt, and his lips trail over every inch of bare skin that he uncovers. when it finally falls to the floor, his pupils are blown wide, his hands palming intricate black lace. your jeans are stripped away mercilessly, his hands shaking less now, and you take it as a sign to crawl backwards onto the bed.

he stands there, watching you, apprehensive again. you can see how hard he is, how desperately strained his cock is through the light grey of his sweatpants, and so you switch tactics. your hand grazes your tummy, skimming up your abdomen until you reach a bra strap. you toy with the elastic, holding the kind of eye contact that makes him twitch, tugging it until it hangs loosely off of your shoulder.

“i need you, osc. i trust you.” you utter, soft and enticing. one finger runs under the cup of your bra, flicking over your nipple. he can just about see the hardened bud through the lace of your bra. it’s not enough, though, and every ounce of self control depletes when you whine, “want you inside of me so badly.”

the elastic band snaps and he’s on top of you, rutting between your legs like a man starved. you drag his shirt up and over his shoulder blades, moaning as you feel each and every muscle under your fingertips.

“just wanna make you feel good.” oscar rasps, rolling his hips even harder into your core.

“take these off.” you beg, pulling at the waistband of his joggers. he somehow musters the strength to pry himself off of you, just long enough to discard the uncomfortable material of his sweats, but as soon as he looks down, his plans change.

painted over the crotch of them is a shiny pool of your slick, and when his eyes flit hungrily to your core, he sees where you’ve soaked through your panties. you’re panting when you see the stain, and you just want to get him inside of you, but his priorities have changed. oscar collapses between your legs, head buried, tongue exploring.

he groans, carnal and needy, into the fabric of your underwear, laving his tongue over the lace. your eyes widen as he dives in, licking over the wet patch until he grows frustrated. you hear the tearing of the fabric, feel his big hands pawing at your thighs to spread them as wide as they’ll go. his tongue slides right inside of you and he whines. he fucking whines. the vibration nearly makes you scream. you can’t believe this is your oscar, the same oscar that had quivered with nerves a mere five minutes ago.

“oh my god.” you chant, rolling your hips against his face. you must be all over him by now, what with the way he’s sucking and slurping, obscene sounds of wetness sounding around the room. you’d be blushing a deep red if you weren’t so turned on, shaking against his bedspread which will probably need changing once he’s done with you.

you thought that maybe he was inexperienced and that was the source of his fear, but if he was, you never would have known. he was a natural in between your legs, nipping at your clit to get you even louder for him.

you cum faster than ever, and he’s mumbling something incoherent into your pussy when you do. you’re riding the high, midway through the bliss, when a thick finger slips its way inside of you. oscar realises that he can easily slide another in, and he does. he doesn’t thrust them in and out, he grinds them against your walls, and your mouth falls open as a silent scream forces it’s way out.

you cum a second time, in record time yet again, and he still doesn’t let up. he’s hitting that spot relentlessly with his fingers, keeping your clit between his swollen lips, and you’re begging him. for what, you’re not sure, but you’re whimpering his name like you’re going to die. and what a good way to go this would be.

his eyes meet yours, and he looks unhinged. that’s when you feel it. that all consuming, belly twisting rush.

“oscar!” you try to warn him, but it’s too late, and he knows it. he makes you squirt, because of course he does. the shy guy who was scared that he wouldn’t be able to please you makes you squirt.

he pulls his mouth off of you but keeps his fingers buried deep, eyes fixed on watching the way your pussy convulses.

“holy shit.” you cry. you’re staring down at him like you’ve gone insane. he’s smiling innocently.

“was that good?” he almost sounds shy and you want to kick him.

“are you… are you serious?” you rasp. oscar just shrugs. “get up here.” you reach for him and complies, slotting himself between your legs once more.

oscar resumes the rolls of his hips, and the friction of the grey fabric against your core makes your eyes roll back.

“please, oscar, fuck me.” you whine, his head falling into the crook of your neck. he bites down, leaving behind the sting of his teeth and a faint purple splotch.

“fucking love you.” he slurs, his accent thickening in a way that makes him sound that extra bit fucked out already.

“i love you.” you murmur, forcing his sweats down his legs. his boxers are wet, just like your panties were, and you can’t help but stare. oh, it’s big.

his boxers are peeled down and you can feel yourself throbbing. his cock hangs heavy, red and dripping, painfully hard. you reach for it, looking at him to make sure it’s okay to touch, and he’s rapidly nodding his head. your small hand struggles but you make it work, and his head tips back, exposing his thick neck that you want to suck purple. your hand works over him a few times, and a visible shiver running through his body makes you stop.

“you ready for me?” he asks through gritted teeth.

“please.” you gasp, locking your legs around his waist. “however you want me, ‘m yours.” you breathe.

oscar’s eyes roll back in his head, your words sending his brain blank, and then he’s pushing home, slow and deep.

“fucking hell.” he groans, guttural. you’re so tight, warm, soaking wet. he feels like the biggest idiot in the world for waiting so long for this.

“oh.” you gasp, your eyebrows knitting together. he’s so deep. “so full.” you pant.

“can you take it, sweetheart?” oscar’s lips bump your jaw. “want you to take it.” you nod profusely, desperate to hear him run his mouth even further. your eyes clench shut when you feel him move, just the tiniest bit, readjusting.

“move.” you plead. he’s staring down at you, watching every single micro movement of your face.

oscar pulls out the smallest bit and thrusts back in, nice and slow. the drag drives you feral, the weight of him on top of you makes you weak. you want to stay like this until the end of days.

“good?” he hisses, trying to keep composed. he’s finally inside of you, claiming you as his in the most intimate way of all. he tries not to think about how many times he could have had you begging under him in the last three months.

“so good, so good.” you repeat, pushing your hips up to try and meet his.

“so pretty like this for me. always so, so pretty.” he rambles. he realises that he never quite made it as far as getting your bra off, and he needs to see all of you. the cups are tugged haphazardly down, and oscar stares at your breasts like he’s never seen tits before. you hear him hum, low and greedy, and then you feel the wet drag of his tongue across your nipple.

the animalistic whine that he rips from you makes him thrust harder, upping his pace a bit. he can hear how much wetter you get when he picks up his pace, and he changes up his rhythm, pushing all the way in and dragging out again at lightning speed. your jaw goes slack and your eyes are damp.

“baby, what’s wrong?” oscar slows to a stop, and you want to scream.

“no, no, no, keep going.” you choke out, your throat constricting with a sob. “it’s so good. feel so good.” you sound drunk, all for him, and he loses his mind completely.

he taps into that athletic stamina, fucking into you with a newfound vigour that you didn’t think was humanly possible, and you feel things that you didn’t even know you could feasibly feel. you see stars behind your eyes, his face, and nothing else but bright white. calloused fingers find your clit, and you wonder fleetingly if he’s trying to kill you when he rubs messy shapes into the much too overstimulated bud. his teeth graze your nipple, and everything seems to come together perfectly.

thick tears run hot down your cheeks, only to be licked away by eager tongue. your belly tightens, aflame for him; he’s wound your body up perfectly and you’ve never in your life teetered so dangerously over the edge.

“can feel you, baby. want you to cum, okay? ‘n then i’m gonna fill you up.” oscar grunts. you clamp down on him even tighter, thanking god for oscar’s filthy fucking mouth and birth control, and then everything snaps.

you think you scream, you know that you’re sobbing, and your throat is raw when the wave hits. oscar keeps going, intensifying your pleasure, and when he finally let’s go, it’s the most beautiful fucking thing you’ve ever seen. it’s surreal, the way his neck flexes, eyes clenched tight, brown locks flopping over his sweat damped forehead. and the sounds he makes, god. he’s muttering into your ear, lewd and shameless, and a fifth orgasm nearly takes you under.

“gonna need you everyday like this, tight fucking pussy, all mine. can’t live without this now. fucking perfect.” he’s rambling, burrowing deep into you one last time. you feel his warmth spilling into you, feel his hot breath fanning your face. he licks into your awaiting mouth.

“fuck.” you giggle, breathless.

“good?” he raises an eyebrow, grinning bashfully.

“more than worth the wait.” you whisper, mustering the strength to lift your head just enough so that you can peck his lips. “you better not hold out on me ever again though.” oscar laughs at that and you feel the rumble in your flushed chest.

“you promise?” there’s the shy guy again.

“osc, honey, that was the best. ever. ever. need you to be mr sex god more often.”

“only if you behave for me.” he smirks down at you.

“there he is.” you sigh happily.

when he snakes his way back between your legs, lapping up the mess he’s made, and then some, you wonder just what you’ve unleashed.

whoops? lol

taglist

@thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @nokiaholland @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne @spideylovin @charli123456789

(run outta space on my taglist lol, lemme know if u wanna be added or removed)

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tojirights · 4 months

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I'm sure we've all the "Alastor in a rut" fics but can I mix it up a little and request Alastor in a rut and so needy he's willing to give reader control?

a/n: omg baby's first rut, spawned by his attraction to you and he doesn't know how to get it to stop so he asks for help? :'))) i am def a subby person but every now and then i can write our mens being the needy ones 🩷

tags: 18+ smut, nsfw, unprotected sex, alastor cums a lot

you had an unexpected knock at your door late at night after you'd already gotten into bed, and at first you ignore it. then, it happens again. you groan and throw off the blanket, about to get up when alastor appears from the shadows next to your feet.

you go to scream, not even able to comprehend who or what is grabbing you in the darkness, but there's a hand covering your mouth before you can do so. there's also something... stiff hitting your back. you calm when you recognize the hand and you take a deep breath when he removes it. "what the hell alastor?" you whisper-yell, spinning around to face him. you barely recognize the demon standing in front of you.

he's disheveled, shuddering, and looks completely exhausted. he's in what you assume he sleeps in, which is an interesting looking robe. "al?" you frown, reaching out to touch him but he grabs your wrist before you can. "please, darling... for your own good, be careful with your next move..." even his voice is shaky. your eyes finally catch his, and you gasp when you see the deep, dark desire seeping through them.

“i need… need you.” he speaks, still breathless and you’re sure you’ve never heard something so sexy. your eyes widen, taking in the fact that alastor's cock is what was poking you when he grabbed you. alastor has barely said anything other than a quick casual sexual remark in your direction the entire time you've been here at the hotel, and now he's asking for your help.

"o-oh um... yes! i mean-" you speak way too fast, embarrassing yourself with how fast you're interested in 'helping' alastor. before you can say anything else, alastor's lips meet yours and you're instantly melting against him. he steps backwards until he's falling flat onto the bed, tugging you on top of him. your hips straddle his, and the friction against his cock has him arching into you. you swear he whines when you grind your hips, that you can feel his cock pulsing under the small layer of clothing.

you've heard of demons going into a rut, but you've never seen alastor acting quite like this. his hair is stuck to his forehead with sweat, and his ears stand more alert. he physically looks... needy. and his breathy pants beneath you only spark your desire to help. you decide to push your luck just a little bit and interlock your fingers with his before pushing them above his head and holding them there while you rub against him.

alastor looks mad at first, that you dare try to pin him down, but the second he feels the sweet drag of your cunt over his barely clothed cock, he almost cums. "please." you're not sure alastor's ever begged for... anything before, but his pleas make your core pulse, heat pooling between your legs. "mmm, please what?" you smirk, watching frustration bubble up in his eyes. "please- i just... i need to be inside of you." he sighs, not putting up as much fuss as you thought.

you hold back a moan of your own, wanting to maintain some semblance of control over alastor, since you're sure this won't happen again. "ah~ good boy." you coo, again watching as something flashes in his eyes that's a mixture of anger and lust. "need you, darling." he pleads, grinding his aching erection against you. biting your lip, you tug off your shirt and wiggle your hips enough to slide down your sleep shorts. "make me cum." he gasps, giving into every carnal desire flooding his system.

as soon as the head of his cock presses against your pussy, he's trying to push you to take it all. "ah ah..." you warn, once more reaching to pin his hands above his head. "i will make you cum. don't move." your tone is strict, and alastor hates how much it makes his cock throb. he'll get you back for this brazen attitude at a later date...

for now, all he can think about is emptying every last drop of his seed deep within your sweet, wet cunt. after an agonizingly slow descent, you find yourself fully sat on his cock. alastor's eyes are shut, his chest heaving as every breath he's holding back the urge to cum. "hey al..." you whisper, leaning down so your nose touches his. alastor swallows, his hips wiggling ever so slightly. "y-yes darling?" he shudders, feeling every inch of your pussy squeezing around his leaking cock.

"cum as many times as you need..." the hitch in his breath is so audible, and all the tension in his body snaps like a twig. "you-" he gasps, legs spasming as he tries not to lose it just yet. "-don't know what you're getting yourself into." it's a warning, and you know that, but your cunt clenches at the idea of spending the rest of the night like this. "use me." you murmur, watching as alastor's eyes roll into the back of his head.

the groan that follows is primal, and you give in to his thrusts from below you. the force pushes you forward, your chest flat against his, every thrust upwards pushes more and more of his seed so deep inside of you. and even with his cock nuzzled deep against your cervix, the amount of cum seeps down his cock and covers your inner thighs.

you expect alastor to look worn out, but he looks even hungrier now. wasting little time, alastor flips the two of you so you're now under him. "now then..." he begins, his head slightly clearer now and he's not going to tolerate your behavior from earlier. "i think i like you beneath me a whole lot better, dear." you bite your lip and smile, mischief forming in your eyes. "i like this too."

the look in alastor's eyes tells you that you won't be getting any more sleep tonight.

#alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel imagines #alastor smut #alastor x reader smut #alastor x you smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin alastor smut #hazbin hotel alastor smut #alastor x reader imagines #hazbin hotel alastor x you #alastor hazbin hotel smut #hazbin smut

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ssahotchnerr · 8 months

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Aaron having to bring his daughter with him to work for whatever reason? She’s tiny enough to not be running around and mainly just sleep on his chest all day. It’s fall outside and she’s in a warm teddy bear outfit so it’s literally like a stuffed animal on his chest as he works. She wouldn’t remember anything she saw in files but he makes sure her head is never near anything bad. Makes his heart warm and happy when the others realize that she’s there and coo over her and the outfit. Penelope takes pictures of them to send to you too 😭🖤

soak it in

i'm going to CRY cw; fem!reader, girl dad!aaron, small foyet reference

aaron's entrance into the bullpen piqued the interest of several, as it was different from any other, usual morning. not only was his briefcase in hand, but also a carseat, and a diaper bag was slung proudly over his shoulder. there were smiles from the team, some small nudges to look amongst the other units, as today's visitor was easily welcomed.

during breakfast, you had been notified your dentist appointment had been moved up, due to the office closing earlier within the day for whatever reason. with such short notice and jessica being unavailable, aaron was the obvious solution, and your daughter came to work with him - until you were done running a few errands and could drop by to retrieve her.

for the meantime - as she was there - aaron opted to work strictly on the no-pictures-included files. while she was never in close proximity to a file regardless, and today's onesie's hood happened to shield her eyes, and her little mind wouldn't process or remember anything - aaron didn't want to take any chances. he yearned to keep his daughter as far away from that, all the horrors the world possessed, for as long as he possibly could. jack had gained the knowledge - that monsters were real, just in human form - sooner than he would have liked. sadly.

currently baby girl was tucked into his chest, her right cheek smushed against him. she dozed off not too long ago; she had gotten a bit antsy and luckily his swivel desk chair allowed him to slowly rock her as he worked, in addition to soothingly shushing her, whispering that it's okay; ultimately calming her down. her little fingers found a near death grip on his shirt, clinging onto him as she slept.

when he had felt the pull of fabric, he gazed down and couldn't help but smile. aaron also took a moment, to soak it all in. the window of time where this was possible, was limited; her against his chest, small enough to be cradled in one arm, quiet and secure in the comfort of his office. all in too fast progression would aaron blink, and she would be way more interested in exploring and bouncing off the walls.

the thought immediately snapped his heart into two. if only she could stay that tiny, forever.

as he wrote, flipped a page, switched files, aaron was extremely careful to his movements. he tried not to rustle her, despite her being comfortably laid in his not-preoccupied-by-writing arm.

the sudden creak of his door lifts his eyes, penelope entering. the quietest of aw’s leaves her as she approaches, with an extra spring in her step at the sight before her. in addition, she doesn't hesitate to whisk out her phone.

"i didn't know this cutie was here today." the words leave her in a gentle, yet high, pitched tone, giddiness laced within. her jaw fully drops as she catches sight of the cozy onesie the littlest hotchner inhabits, "oh my god look at her outfit!"

“garcia.” aaron lightly warns as her volume heightens, his eyes flicking back up to her from his paperwork, his pen slowing.

“i know sorry sorry, i just neeeed to share the cuteness with the mrs.," penelope grins, aiming her camera at baby girl, and aaron, snapping a few pictures. "this is just, too dang adorable. she needs a copy, i need a copy, and i'll make you a copy too, sir."

that tugs aaron's lips into a smile, a small chuckle leaving him. "she's cute, huh?"

"um hello? cute doesn't even begin to cover it. please tell me you're the one who dressed her today. if yes, i might have to scream. just might."

"not today." aaron admitted, dropping his pen and fixing the small hood, which had fallen a bit too much in front of baby girl's face. again, his lips couldn’t help but pull into a smile. god, he loved being a girl dad, and a dad in general. "but, i may have picked it out."

"i was right. i'm going to scream." quick to realize what she said, penelope held out her hands in defense - before aaron even had the opportunity to open his mouth - clarifying with wide eyes. "internally! i'm screaming internally."

aaron took a slight pause, before speaking. “actually, about the copies - ”

penelope’s shoulders dropped in defeat, her lips pulling to the side - an equivalent to an ‘eek’. “was i too enthusiastic?”

“on the contrary,” aaron’s expression softened, laughing gently as to again, not rouse baby girl. “would you mind bringing me two? i’ll need one for in here, and for my wallet.”

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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beloved-nyx · 1 month

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐁” 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 !

ᝰ.ᐟ Why does it feel like someone’s following your every move?

જ⁀➴ STARRING: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

જ⁀➴ CONTENT: stalking, suggestive, reader is in college, reader is insecure, nothing to bad ??, not proofread (we die like kings), soft yandere (?), nothing graphic, mentions of jealousy and clinginess

જ⁀➴ FORMAT: 1.3k words, full fic

જ⁀➴ AUTHORS NOTE: This is my third time writing yandere ahhh! Anyway, it's been so long since I wrote something!! Um enjoy <33 also damn...reader really going through it.

“There,” You mutter under your breath. “Finished.”

You balance precariously on a wobbly stool, hands parting from a sleek, black camera. A security camera, to be precise.

You would have never thought of putting a camera in your apartment, not because you were naively dumb, but because you had thought you lived in the safer part of the city. Friendly neighbors always alerted you when suspicious people even lingered next to your doorstep, but also because you were broke. Broke, broke, broke.

Your rent was taking up more of your money than your groceries were. It had taken weeks of splurging on food to even be able to afford a security camera, much to your disdain. You were living on leftovers, and you were getting sick of week-old Chinese takeout.

Stepping off the stool, you admire your handiwork, cringing at how gaudy it looked in your minimalistic (or in much harsher words, bare) apartment room.

Your phone dings softly, and as you pick it up, you grin at the name displayed on your notifications. Caelan.

Caelan is your crush. Your cheeks seem to grow hotter at even admitting it in your thoughts. You felt like some highschool kid, even using the word “crush.” But Caelan did that to you, you guess. Make you feel childish and absolutely hopeless, and sometimes you wish he knew that. But then again, if he did, you would probably self-destruct on the spot. You were fine with admiring Caelan from afar.

Heard what happened U ok?

Ahh. That.

The very reason you put that gaudy camera in your apartment in your first place.

It had been a month ago, when you first saw the signs of someone breaking into your house. You were doing laundry, a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday night while your friends were getting drunk and partying at a local club. Some of your underwear was missing, but you had chalked it up to your own clumsiness.

But then you saw the note, and everything changed. Written sloppily, penmanship atrocious. You had thought that the person was just bad at writing-but in hindsight, he must have used his less dominant hand to write it. Biting your cheek, you read it, and you wished you hadn’t.

It was the most perverse, disgusting thing you had ever read. That night, you couldn’t even sleep, scared that the unknown intruder-stalker would come.

The next day, the stalker sent you pictures of you doing the most mundane things. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing laundry, and even changing.

You immediately called the police on the next day, when a bouquet of roses showed up on your doorstep. The police had said, “We’ll look into it.”

They never did.

It led you to ask for help from a friend, and you instantly regretted it. Because the next day, the whole campus learned of your supposed stalker. And even though their sympathetic, “You okay?” made you feel a little bit more safer, a little more secure in your tiny world, it still made you embarrassed, scared too.

You type in a quick, I'm fine! And then wonder if you should put an emoji after that. After spending an embarrassingly long minute of deciding if you should, you just send it with no emoji.

That’s good. If you need anything just call me.

…

A few days pass by, and still no stalker appears on the camera footage. At first, you’re elated. But then another few days pass, and you feel silly. Maybe there was no stalker, maybe you were being overdramatic-but even then, those pictures? The note? You shiver. You hear a knock on the door, and turn to the noise, a small hum escaping your lips.

Must be the delivery man. You had ordered some new textbooks for college. You walk towards the door, and twist the knob.

Caelan smiles, pale fingers holding a bouquet of roses. He wears a black turtleneck, gray pants and a black dress coat. You, on the other hand, were wearing your pajamas.

If you could melt in a puddle, you would have. You wished you were buried in a pit. You wanted to be flung into space. Your cheeks were burning hot. You must look like a mess. Is it too late to be flung into space?

“C-Caelan. What brings you…uh, here?” You cringe at your words.

“For you, of course.” He laughs, taking a rose from the bouquet and putting it behind your ear. “I just wanted to check up on you. I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything, like your beauty sleep,” He muses, eyes wandering towards your pajamas.

You never wanted to turn into a puddle so badly.

“Hah-no, I just woke up!” You lie, ignoring the way he cocks his head to the side skeptically. Ignoring the fact that it's three p.m.

“You should’ve called…I would’ve,” You gesture towards your clothes, “y’know, prepared.”

“Oh shit!” His eyebrows furrow, a hand yanking at a loose black strand of hair that escaped his braid. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried–”

“No, no it’s fine!” You hate the way you sound-so, so desperate. “Um, do you want to come inside? I’ll go change and then we can talk.”

You lead him inside, ignoring the fact of how oddly happy he is to be inside your home.

…

After Caelan and you became official, he started to change. Slowly, like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly.

He became more clingy, and at first you thought it cute. You loved the way he doted on you, liked how he curled up into you in the mornings when he stayed at your home (more often than not) and begged you to stay in bed for just a few minutes.

But he also became more jealous. Whenever you were next to someone, he always hovered close by, a suffocating presence that almost drowned you. Always insisted on going wherever you went.

You sit on the couch, nestled closely next to Caelan. He hums softly, hands nestled under your shirt as you watch some shitty rom-com. A masterpiece. You called it. Caelan had raised a brow at that, but didn’t say anything except for a snort. You had elbowed him in the stomach after he jokingly (?) insulted one of your favorite moments.

“‘m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, hands retracting from your body and making you feel cold. You whine at the sudden coldness, complaining about how you might die of hypothermia if he doesn’t come back soon. He scoffs at that, planting a kiss on your temple as he walks into the kitchen.

And leaves his phone.

You pick it up, grinning. Your intent was clear. Take a silly photo of yourself and make it his wallpaper. A perfect, opportune moment.

You open the camera app, successfully taking a horridly candid shot of yourself, before curiosity takes a hold of you. You open the photo app, scrolling through his photos. Most of it was just pictures of landscapes, before you stop.

A picture of you sleeping, drool leaking from your mouth.

You stop, before groaning. Did you really look like that when you slept? You scrolled some more, before stopping again. Blood running cold.

Was that a picture of you changing?

You frantically scroll through more photos, and with horror realize that most resemble the photos that your stalker took. You would never forget how disgusting you felt, at how you felt like your privacy had been breached.

You choke down a scream, eyes wide and hands shaking.

And then you feel something-a hand, on your shoulder. Tight enough to bruise, and tight enough to secure you in place.

“Oh.” A single word escapes Caelan’s lips, and you turn. You can see your own, frantic expression in his black eyes. Black eyes that you thought were beautiful.

“So you saw them, hmm.” It wasn’t stated as a question. No, it was a statement. A fact, indisputable. The most horrible part was that he wasn’t even trying to deny them.

“Well, isn’t this cute?”

©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

#❛❛𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒.𝐎𝐅.𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋.𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄—ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹❞#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #Yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling #Male yandere #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere oc x reader #male yandere x reader #male yandere x you #male yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere imagines #yandere male #soft yandere #yandere x gn reader

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mariasont · 2 months

Text

Office Sleepover 3 - A.H

a/n: yeehaw this took me way longer than i thought but here she be

i feel like im so ass at writing smut so just bear with me yall

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

part one here! part two here!

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which reader gets put on a hit-list and has to stay in the office (kind of based off when penelope got put on a hit-list by the dirty dozen)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, hungover reader, unwanted attention from some rando, awk as fuck reader, fingering, dirty talk, doing the dirty in the office, definitely illegal, definitely probably caught on cameras

wc: 4.2k

Everything hurt--your stomach churned, your head throbbed, and your eyes burned. You squeezed them shut, feeling your body tense against the stiff fabric of the pull-out couch. Fists curled tightly, you gradually let your eyelids part, casting a slow, sweeping glance around the room, trying to piece together what the hell happened.

Pain hammered around the inside of your head. You desperately needed a hefty dose of Advil--ten at least. As though your mind had materialized them, you rolled over to discover a bottle and a glass of water on the nightstand. You assumed you had JJ to thank, though the certainty of that was as fuzzy as your thoughts. Each effort to reconstruct last night's events was a stab to your already excruciating migraine.

You had all your clothes on, that was a plus considering your notorious history with wine and stripping. Stripping. Your hand slapped over your mouth, a floodgate of recollections bursting through--calling Hotch in a wine-induced haze, flashing your tits, asking him to stay.

You were in full-blown panic mode, the sudden urge to throw up clawing at your throat. The bed was empty, save for yourself, but you vividly remember Hotch laying down with you. This only left two possibilities: he left after you fell asleep or it had been a figment of your imagination. You were desperately hoping it was the latter.

But clearly, the universe had its own plan, because there he was, leaning against the door frame, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and a paper bag that, by the smell of it, contained greasy food.

With a throat like sandpaper and sweaty palms, you met your boss's gaze. "Hotch," you croaked, pausing to swallow. "Um, good morning--or is it? My sleep schedule's always off after drinking. It feels bright in here, right? It's also kinda hot, is the AC working?"

You impulsively rose from the bed, a decision you instantly regretted as the room seemed to spin around you in protest.

"Sit down," he commanded, a firmness in his voice that brooked no opposition, and you promptly sat your ass back down, watching him with an expectant look.

You attempted to read his face, but it was a blank slate, making you that much more nervous. He must hate you, you figured, because you certainly hated yourself. Your boss had seen your nipples. A wave of heat washed over you, and you clenched your eyes shut, as if that could make this situation disappear.

"Here," he said, handing you the coffee and the bag, then gesturing to the Advil on the counter. "Take that, and I know you might not feel like eating, but it's necessary. The food and coffee will stabilize your blood sugar levels."

"Right, yeah, course," you nod, accepting the items with shaky hands, holding the cup with a grip that's a little too firm. "Listen, sir, I'm really sorry about last night. I promise I don't usually drink that much. I don't even know how I got that drunk, and I know I acted completely inappropriate towards you. If you need to file a complaint, I understand. Again, I'm just so sorry..."

You wanted to cry, but you held it back, knowing it would only make this whole situation worse. You deliberately avoided his eyes, focusing on anything but him while you absentmindedly toyed with the breakfast sandwich in your hands.

After a moment, he releases a soft sigh, the mattress sinking slightly as he settled beside you, his knee gently knocking yours.

"I'm aware this week's been tough on you. It's, uh, clear you weren't thinking straight, and I'm not about to make a formal issue out of a slip-up."

Your head dipped, as you tried to fend off the rising warmth in your face. "I don't think I can ever look you in the eyes again."

"That feels dramatic," he pointed out, a chuckle in his voice that made you glance his way. "Trust me, it's already forgotten."

That was a lie. He may have lacked Reid's eidetic abilities, but there was no possible, imaginative way that he would forget the image of you topless--it was imprinted in his memory. In fact, it had become the sole focus of his thoughts ever since. He silently thanked the gods that it was a Saturday, and he didn't have any pressing work issues.

"Somehow, that's not very comforting," you replied, a suppressed giggle breaking through as you met his gaze. "So, did you, um, end up staying over?"

Your cheeks glowed with a soft pink, hands unconsciously smoothing over your thighs--a nervous habit of yours he had quickly taken notice of. It emerged involuntarily when you faced tough cases, or when your computer took too long to start up, or even when the elevator made an unexpected noise.

"I did," he admitted, "You shouldn't have been alone."

Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and you were weirdly frustrated that you couldn't recall being the same bed as him, being able to feel his body against yours. You bet he was warm, and soft, and large against you.

"Thank you."

His phone went off. "Hotchner."

Your eyes followed his movements, noting the firm nods, watching as he stood, his expression hardening, jaw tightening, and hand coming to rest on his chin as he faced away from you.

The phone call was brief, and he quickly turned his attention back to you. "We've got a case."

And it was quite the case--three male victims, all in their forties. Each crime scene was close to Quantico, about twenty minutes, sparing the team any extensive travel. Though, after last night, you don't think you would have minded if they had been halfway across the country.

You were really banking on Hotch's ability to keep things professional, knowing full well that if Morgan caught wind of this, you'd be better off dead.

The team was huddled around the briefing table, absorbing Garcia's detailed rundown of the killings--they were violent to say the least--with heads bashed in and over twenty stab wounds per victim. Whoever was doing this was angry.

Hotch eventually split everyone up into tasks—Spencer and Morgan to the crime scenes, JJ and Emily interviewing the families, and Rossi was tasked with convening with the local police force. So, you know who that left at the office? You, Hotch, and Penelope. What a great group.

You avoided both of them, a pattern that had become all too familiar you had realized. Hunched over your desk, you were engrossed in sending Spencer images of your latest research on the town. True to form, he responded--Can you just fax that over to the police station?--because god forbid, he has to read it from his phone.

So, there you were, barely resisting the urge to slam your head into the fax machine. You wouldn't consider yourself technology impaired, but to say you were on friendly terms would be overstating it.

"Need help?"

"Oh, yes, please—," you began, but your voice trailed off as you noticed one of the guys from forensics hovering just a tad too close for comfort.

"They're always a bit stubborn," he noted, barely giving you space to breathe before his shoulder nudged against yours as he fiddled with the device, "just a slight...there we go."

The machine sprang into action, prompting you to step back and acknowledge his help with a nod. "Oh, thanks."

"Not a problem," he assured, stepping closer in the process, his fingers lightly brushing your thigh as he pointed out the correct button. "You see, it's all about timing," he added, his voice low and unnecessarily close, "these things can be so fussy, right?"

A subtle nod was your only response, hoping he'd take the hint that you weren't in the mood for small talk. The hangover clung stubbornly, and the whiff of his breath was a cruel taunt against the fragile peace you were maintaining over your stomach.

"So, do you find this kind of tech stuff challenging?" he asked, a little too casually. The question hung awkwardly in the air. You sought to put some distance between you, yet he matched your every move, keeping the space closed. "I mean, I'm pretty good with my hands, not just with machines honestly."

Ew.

You mustered a smile, though you were sure it was more of a grimace. The room felt smaller, the walls inching closer. "I usually manage," you responded, the strain evident in your voice.

He leaned closer, if that was possible, it was like the concept of personal space was foreign to him. "Maybe I can show you a few tricks, help you manage a little better?"

His words were light, but his proximity was anything but, almost suffocating.

Just as you were firmly about to tell him to shove it, a sharp voice beat you to it--probably for the best.

"That won't be necessary."

The forensics guy, whose name you still hadn't gotten, straightened, his smile faltering under the weight of Hotch's piercing, don't fuck with me, stare. A look usually saved for unsubs and incompetent officers, but now it singled out this man.

The same look remained on the poor guy as he directed his words to you, "why don't you join me? We need to go over some case details."

It really wasn't a question.

The man backed up instantly, mumbling something under his breath about just trying to help, but Hotch's glare followed him until he was well out of earshot.

Surprisingly, a similar sharpness was aimed at you as soon as he opened his mouth. "I'd appreciate it if you chose to flirt on your own time, not the Bureau's."

His words landed with the sting of an unexpected slap. You blinked, taken aback. "What? I wasn't--,"

But he didn't allow you time to finish. Instead, he pushed a water bottle in your hands, his eyes scrutinizing your face with such an intensity that you wished the floor would swallow you whole. "Drink. You look pale."

"Gee, thanks," you grumbled, under your breath, more to yourself than him, as he wheeled around and headed briskly for the briefing room.

Your steps lagged slightly behind him, your forehead lined with a thoughtful frown. What was that about? The way he acted--the tightness that had formed around his mouth and the harshness in his words, it was so unlike him, well, at least for it to be directed at you.

The rest of the day unfolded just as you thought it would upon waking--like shit. Hotch kept his distance, his exchanges with you brief and to the point. Every time you tried to grab his attention, hoping to clarify things (why you felt the need you weren't sure), he was already looking else, focused on literally anything but you.

It was painfully evident that he was avoiding any personal conversation with you, a realization that bit deeper than anticipated.

The office slowly emptied, the case binding you and Hotch to the briefing room, the only sounds being the faint gentle tapping of your pen and the occasional snap of your hair tie.

It was late when you finally spoke. "Hotch, this says the victim had fibers under his nails that don't match anything from the suspect's home."

Hotch's gaze snapped up to yours. "Are you saying you think the forensics team missed that?"

You met his eyes squarely, cocking your head to the side at the tone of his voice. "I'm not saying anything. I'm just pointing something out."

He bridged the space between you, his jaw set in a firm line. You could feel the warmth spreading across your cheeks as the distance dwindled.

"I'm just saying I don't want you jumping to conclusions based on underdeveloped theories."

You met his eyes with a glare, your teeth grinding together in the process. "Underdeveloped? Is that how you see my contributions now?"

The space between you had now vanished, your heart racing, finger almost poking into his chest as you spoke.

Hotch settled back against the wall, arms folded across his chest, giving you a pointed look. "I didn't say that," he replied, his voice level, markedly different from your agitated one. "We just can't afford to investigate every insignificant detail."

"Every insignificant detail?" you scoffed, "these are leads, Hotch."

His shoulders lift in an indifferent shrug that made you want to wrap your hands around his throat, and not in the good way. "Maybe. However, we need to be sure before we pursue it."

Drawing in a controlled breath, you fought to stay calm, but he was making it very hard. The sensation was all too reminiscent of college, contending with the overconfident frat boys just to voice your thoughts. That comparison may have been a tad extreme--Hotch was far from being like those insufferable boys, but he was certainly pushing your limits right now.

"I am sure. Why aren't you listening."

"I am listening," he said, but his voice was distant. "I just... I just don't want to get sidetracked, that's all."

"Sidetracked? By what, exactly?"

"I'm just not sure you're all here right now."

You felt your cheeks warming with a tinge of shame, but you pushed back, fists clenched at your sides. "I'm here, Hotch. I'm focused."

"Because last night—,"

"Last night was a mistake, okay? I got it. I already apologized for that. But I'm not irresponsible, my focus is on this case."

A lengthy pause followed, his expression unreadable. "You're certain about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain," you snapped, moving towards him again. "And for the record, JJ said you were okay with us having a few drinks."

"I was," he admitted. "But I didn't think—,"

You didn't let him finish. "What, that I'd get wasted? That I'd do something stupid? I'm sorry I'm not perfect."

"Well, yeah."

"Screw you, Hotch."

You knew that was a mistake the minute his nostrils flared, his chest now a pressing force against yours.

Then, without warning, his lips crashed into yours. A muffled oomph of surprise left you, your hands hanging motionless at first, only to quickly melt, grasping at his jacket, pulling him into you.

It wasn't a gentle kiss, nor was it kind, but it was magic, exceeding anything you could have imagined, setting every fiber of you on fire. His lips pressed against yours with an intensity that drew out a breathy sigh, arousal tingling through you, and your passion rose to meet his, equally hungry, equally desperate.

Your fantasies had never done him justice--kissing him was intoxicating, and now you could feel yourself getting lost in the sensation, realizing it was everything you never dared to hope for.

Drawing back just enough, his hands drew you closer, pressing against the dip of your back, his breath fusing with yours in a dizzying blend, making the air seem scarce.

Against the soft pressure of his lips, you murmured, "I wasn't flirting."

There's a pause as his eyes locked on yours, searching, questioning. Then, his hand settled at the side of your neck. "You better not have been."

Any witty comeback you had dissipated as his lips crashed against yours again, more urgently this time, his hands tracing every contour of your clothed body with an insatiable curiosity.

His grip tightened around your waist, effortlessly lifting you onto the briefing table's cold surface with a resounding thud, his palms then cradling your thighs. Documents and files fluttered beneath you, hopefully they weren't too important. His eyes, dark pools of brown, were meticulously scanning your face.

"You," he breathes out, his voice a low rumble laced with something you couldn't quite place, "have consumed my thoughts since the moment I discovered you on my couch." He inches closer, his breath scorching your cheek as his fingers waltzed a pattern up your thighs. "Do you understand that feeling? The intense frustration?"

You were rendered motionless, frozen in place, scared to even twitch and risk this all being a very realistic wet dream. This was Hotch, your boss, the man defined by his lack of outward emotion. To think that you--of all people--could have an effect on him was an overwhelming concept. The room seemed to tilt on its axis as he gently guided your legs apart, positioning himself between them.

"Y-Yeah, I know," you uttered unevenly, your thoughts scattering as your hands tentatively reached for his collar.

"So, you know what it's like, huh?"

Your nod was subtle, a flustered smile briefly lighting up your expressions.

"And?" he prompts, while his fingers explore the shape of your thighs, squeezing gently.

You squirm under his gaze, the intensity of it making your heart race inside your chest.

"And... it's annoying," you confess, puffing out a breath, trying sound annoyed, but the delicate blush dusting your nose gave you away, you were sure.

"Annoying?" Hotch repeats, his hand tenderly angling your face upward, his smile laced with a taunt. "Is that all?"

You rolled your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "It's distracting," your voice was softer now, desire pooling in your belly as you grasp just how compromising of a position you were in.

"Distracting," he tsked, echoing you once again as he nodded solemnly, pulling your hips into his. Your mouth parted in an 'o' of surprise, your gaze lifting to meet his. "Have I been the subject of your thoughts, then?"

Your head dipped in a nod, your fingers brushing against his firm chest, a soft blush coloring your cheeks. "Maybe a little, in a totally platonic boss-employee type of way."

"Oh yeah?"

You caught your lip between your teeth, considering your next words very carefully. "Well, maybe more than a little, and maybe more than just a boss."

"Oh, wow," his breath was a warm hover over your lips, hanging in the space between you. You ached for the tase of him again, rich with dark expresso and spiced cinnamon. It was a lovely combination. "Sounds serious."

You released a hushed giggle, a light note floating between you as your foreheads met. "It's not like I can help it."

"And why is that?"

"Because," you paused, wetting your lips in anticipation, "you're infuriatingly unforgettable, that's why."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

He was kissing you again. This time a little softer, unhurried, and the whole reason for your argument faded into nothingness. Although if insubordination led to this sweet consequence, it might just become a habit.

His lips traced a path down your throat, prompting your head to tilt back, baring the expanse of your skin to his exploration. Your legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him impossibly close. The world seemed distant, the sensation dreamlike, buoyed by the soft lull of a lust-induced haze.

Reason gave way to impulse; your hands lost in the softness of his hair, your back arching to his hands grasping at your ass, your clothed pussy grinding against his erection.

His hands hesitated, hovering as he reached for your top, his eyes holding yours. "Is this okay?"

You nodded, more eagerly than necessary, but that still wasn't good enough for him.

"I need a verbal yes or no."

Desperation clung to you, a needy sigh escaping you as you squirmed into his touch, his hands halting your restless movements. "Yes, please, Hotch."

"You were so eager to call me Aaron last night. Say it again."

"Aaron, please, I need you to touch me," your voice rang out, imbued with such sweetness making his length constrict against the fabric of his slacks.

His fingers deftly navigated to the hem of your shirt, sliding it over your head with a fluid motion. Your bra was next, its clasp yielding effortlessly to his touch, your tits releasing with a gentle bounce, and he fought back a groan as his large hands enveloped them.

"Every bit as perfect as I remembered," he said, his fingers skillfully pulling and twisting at the nubs as you brought you forehead to meet his, a breathy gasp tumbling from your lips at the contact.

You arched your back into his heads as he let out a soft chuckle, loving the way your body reacting to him. Your eyes held a glazed-over look, lips parted ever so slightly, and you looked up at him expectantly in way that could surely kill him.

His hands moved slowly down your sides before brushing the sensitive skin under your waist band. You swallowed a gasp, moving your hips into his again, rolling yourself against his stiff erection.

His palms pressed against your hips. "Slow down. Let me take my time with you, yeah?"

You were at his discretion; he could ask you to jump into oncoming traffic right now and you'd probably say yes.

A nod was all you could manage as you fought the urge to move, every muscle tensed, waiting for him to make the first move, but god was it hard. You couldn't really believe this was happening, until the solid press of his thumb against your clit brought the moment into sharp focus.

"Aaron, god," you gasped, your hands tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. Your teeth found your bottom lip harshly, trying not to show him just how easily you could come apart right now.

"Is that good, honey?"

Honey. You could practically feel the arousal dripping your thighs as you nodded eagerly.

The pad of his thumb glided between your folds, gathering the slickness to continue his assault against your swollen clit. You buried your face deeper into his suit jacket, attempting to stifle the embarrassing sounds that you couldn't seem to contain.

A whine of protest filled the space between you as his hand slipped away from your pants. His eyes bore into you as he gathered the strands at the back of your neck, guiding your gaze to yours.

"None of that. Let me hear you gorgeous."

"Aaron, please, I need your fingers inside me, please."

You were painfully aware of how ridiculous you sounded, knew that if anyone else was in the office right now, you'd be so screwed, fired probably, but as his fingers dipped into your cunt those concerns dissolved quickly.

"Since you asked so nicely."

He was torturing you--his pace aggravatingly slow, working in and out of you as you tried to fight the overwhelming desire to slam your legs shut. It was so much, yet not enough. You ground yourself against his hands as his other hand clamped around your back, keeping you from falling back.

"That's it, baby, fuck yourself on my fingers."

His eyes were dark, pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling in a way that only seemed to spur you on, doing exactly as he ordered. His words felt foreign in your ears, before today you could never imagine him talking like this, so vulgarly.

"Aaron, I-I need—," you paused, your eyes falling to his pants, more specifically the hardened cock inside them.

"Yeah? Is that what you want?"

"Yes, fuck, please," you gasped as his fingers hit that one spot just right. Your head lolled back as you clutched at his collar, his arm behind you keeping you in place.

"Watch your mouth," he said, and for some reason that was enough to send you right over that never ending ledge, your stomach coiling, heat spreading under your skin, every part of you ached.

"Oh—, Aaron, I-I'm—," you were a blubbering mess, rocking without mercy against his fingers, his thumb brushing against your nub in a way that made you feel like you had met your maker.

"That's it, baby, go ahead."

That was enough for you, your walls clenching around his fingers, back arching into him and you swore for a minute you could see stars. He helped you ride out your high.

You were wholeheartedly convinced; this was heaven. You had died and gone to heaven and the first one to greet you was Hotch, his hands tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin in an attempt to bring you back down to Earth.

Just as you were about to reach for his pants, determined to feel him inside of you, his phone went off. Of fucking course. He shot you an apologetic look, the sound a wake-up call, pulling you both from the lust-fueled moment.

He moved back with a couple steps, offering nods and muted words to whoever was calling at 12 am. You were suddenly extremely aware of your appearance--topless and on the briefing table for crying out loud.

You attempted to stand, your legs betraying you with a wobble that had him instantly clasping your arm firmly, his attention flickering from the phone to the tremors in your stance. You gave him a small in return as if to say I'm fine.

You reached across the table, grabbing your shirt from its discarded state, not bothering with the bra as you dressed quickly. He cleared his throat, causing you to turn, just in time to see his phone disappear into his pocket.

"That was the Stafford police chief, there was another murder," he explained.

"Oh, right, okay, um..." you started, your brain racing into overdrive as you instinctively moved towards the door. "I just need to..."

Your movement was too quick, a dizzying spin that resulted in you tumbling into Hotch's solid frame. His reflexes were immediate, hands clasping onto you once again, preventing you from landing straight into him.

"Whoa, hey, are you okay?" he asked, brows knitting in a frown, "take a second."

"Yeah, um, yeah, I'm good," you managed to get out, even as heat suffused your face. "Just need to get changed, uh, can't imagine either of us want to the team to find me like this."

"Right."

He was still frowning, and you wanted nothing more than to kiss away the harsh lines of his forehead, but you were sure he wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

You made a beeline for your office, the door's thud barely registering over pulsating rush in your ears. God, you were so screwed.

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