#Emilio x reader

[vanrouchu]

jealous, jealous, jealous!

— "are you two dating?" ft. victor, emilio, merryrose

— VICTOR!

It took Victor a moment to process that question before quickly regaining his cool. He shot his co-worker a smile but in his mind he was panicking, thinking that he was being a little bit too obvious with his feelings. After all, he already said to himself that he'd push aside his feelings and let you meet other people. It made him feel a little giddy though, the thought of being mistaken as your lover gave him butterflies.

"Oh my, do we really seem that close?" He let out a small laugh, "we're really not dating."

"Then you wouldn't mind if I tried to confess to them, right?"

Crash!

"Huh?" It took Victor a moment to realize what was happening. As if ignoring what they just asked him, he chuckled. "Oh dear, I must've been distracted. Seems like I've broken a glass."

"A-Are you alright!?"

"Yes, I'm fine." His mask was slowly crumbling away and his voice suddenly turned deeper. A little bit rougher. He furrowed his brows and looked at his co-worker right in the eyes. "I can take care of this. Just scram already."

They gulped. Slowly backing away before sprinting out. Victor could only stare at their back getting smaller and smaller before letting out a deep sigh and ruffling his hair. "Ugh… I screwed up."

— EMILIO!

"Dating?" Emilio pondered for a second. He was debating between telling his fellow knight the truth or twisting it a little to match the image inside his head but he knew you wouldn't like it if rumors about you and him spread – and you were his priority. So he chose to tell him the truth… with a little bit of something sprinkled on top. "Well, no… but we're very close."

Maybe he did that to show off. Maybe he did that to ward him off because clearly, he was interested in you. He was fidgeting, sweating, and stuttering. If he was asking just for the sake of knowing, he wouldn't be as bothered as he is. However, this kind of situation calls for a different response.

"T-Then…! Could you put in a good word for me? I'm really interested in them so I've been wondering if you could help."

He didn't take the hint, he thought. A straightforward answer should do the trick.

"They're not looking for a relationship right now." Not a trace of guilt can be found on his face after spitting out a blatant lie. It was scary how his voice had gone cold yet his smile never wavered. "You should give up."

"Please? Just a little push is all I need so I can confess…"

Confess? Emilio tilted his head curiously. "You just don't give up, do you? It's an admirable trait for a knight… however," he grabbed his collar and pulled him closer – sending chills down his spine. "Do try to pick opponents your size."

He backed away, acting as if nothing happened. "Unless you want to be gobbled up, of course."

No one believed the knight when he said that Emilio threatened him.

— MERRYROSE!

"No, why?" Merryrose's reply was quick and simple. It was straightforward enough — No, they were not dating. He conveniently left out the 'yet' part and 'I wish we were' part. He thought it would be super embarrassing if anyone found out his big crush on you and right now he's doing his best to keep a straight face when he got asked this question.

"That's great to hear!" His eye twitched. "I was planning on asking them out soon so I had to make sure there really isn't anything going on between you two."

"Oh, really?" It was childish to get jealous, yes. But what's even more childish is the fact that he removed his glove and put his hand on their arm. He never thought he would intentionally charm someone with his ability but he thought it suddenly became useful for once. His pettiness knew no bounds. Sweetly, he asked: "Could you repeat that for me?"

"O-Oh..! I was wondering if you were interested in going on a date with me, Merryrose." It worked, perfect.

He put his glove back on and replied, "I've got plans. Don't go asking anyone else, though."

It was strange. He hated being treated like this but the moment they showed interest in you, all common sense got thrown out the window. It's fine, he thought. It would be bearable if they fawned over him instead of you. If it was you… He might just burst with jealousy.

[chelestials]

nothing is more humbling when you’re watching an edit of your favorite actor and then the screen goes black and you see yourself on your screen basically thirsting over them

[offt0wonderland]

The Runaways

Imagine: You're a Soc, enjoying a movie at the drive-in with your friend, when the same Greasers you ran into earlier barge inside the automobile.

The Outsiders x fem OC

Word count: 2.5k

Summary: A young Soc finds herself thrown into a loop once she befriends Pony and his family.

“What did I miss in History?”

Deborah strengthened her fingers around the condensing cup, the two of us pressed closely together while the temperature gradually dropped outside the passion pit. “A load of Crock – I don’t think Mr. Jones knows what he’s talking about,” The corners of her mouth pursed, a bland giveaway that she was transported back in thought from my missed lecture. “I remember he said something about the Battle of Midway and how we were lucky to have won … but when I talked to my dad, he said that the reason we defeated the other ships was because of willpower and strength.”

“Wait, so how does that make Mr. Jones the one full of Crock?” I shifted my head closer to my friend, allowing the temple of my forehead to press against the bone of her shoulder.

Deborah soon readjusted to my movements; her head now stuck against the headrest of the driver seat to keep her eyes on the motion picture that began to play in front of our eyes. “I’m trusting my dad – who fought in the war – as opposed to the teacher who didn’t.”

“Yeah, that makes sense,” The both of us briskly fell quiet after my agreement, letting the noise from Sound of Music fill the silence that lingered between us. It was a movie we’d both seen a few weeks prior, but we didn’t mind the repetition, the drive-in was something we both seemed to enjoy on our off time.

Honestly, I don’t think we’d ever get old of this place.

Well, except for the backseat bingo. Now that was revolting. It was like every automobile around us showcased couples engulfed by each other’s mouths, the film of their windows fogged up to display the sweat that radiated off their movements. I tried my best to ignore them, combine Razzles and Popcorn into my mouth as I observed Julie Andrews on screen, but the hathos was too compelling: they were sickeningly captivating.

It was like every time my irises fell onto the giant screen in front, they somehow found their way to the car next to me. In the span of three minutes, I found myself watching the older couple in nothing but a button-down and a bra. From the looks of it, they seemed to be in their mid-twenties, but by their hormones, they appeared closer to teenagers. Frankly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if one of them ripped the other’s skin off with how aggressive they tugged on each other’s bodies.

It was nauseating – or more accurately, it reminded me of Charles and his consistently grabby hands. One of the many reasons we broke our steady off.

I continued to observe the people around us, noting every time they disappeared in the cushions of their seats; But for some reason, the one thing that redirected my attention was three boys coming into view. The middle Greaser had the same leather jacket I saw before, his arms wrapped around both of his friends as if he was ready to guide them to mischief. The other two seemed to follow that minuscule action, willing to put themselves in trouble to keep their delinquent acquaintance.

“Get out of the way!” And it appeared that disturbance wasn’t too far behind.

Dally pressed the end of the cancer stick between his teeth; the outline of his middle finger raised in front of the illuminated backdrop. Pony chuckled at his friend’s insult, making eye contact with the battered boy across from him in glee. And in all honesty, I probably would’ve laughed too, only all that commotion made them closer to our car. My eyes widened at that revelation, my body involuntarily shifting downwards in hopes they wouldn’t notice. But with all the other windows coated with steam, we were bound to be noticed.

Dally was the first of the group to make a reaction; his lips tugged into a smirk, the pads of his fingertips yanking the poor boys behind him in the new direction he was set in. It was the response I feared the most – he was coming over. So, I made a countermove; I bent over the edge of my seat, tugging on the locks of the automobile to create a barrier.

“Val, what are you doing?” Deborah questioned.

“Lock the doors on your side.” I said.

“What?”

“Lock the doors on your side!” But before she even had a chance, the three Greasers had found themselves inside the same confinement we were in. And I was pissed.

“Ohh, this is nice,” Dally straightened his legs, leaning his body back against the cushion of the seats as if he was already welcomed into the Socs car. “Didn’t know girls could own such nice autos.”

I turned around to face the lot of them. “What are y’all doin’?”

“Needed a place to sit, the chairs outside are somehow all taken.” Ugh, his arrogance was worse than the couple making out next to us.

“Get out of my car,” Deborah was firm. “I don’t want any grease on these girly leather seats.”

“Dal’ let’s just go.” The anxious boy who was drowned in denim finally spoke up, pulling on his friend’s arm to get him to budge – but it appeared he wasn’t going to oblige to his buddy like last time.

“Dally, I swear, I’ll grab …” The slur of words were quick to come to a halt once my eyes fell upon the boy on the right. It was like I was staring at him for the first time, witnessing the fresh scar that aligned symmetrically on his cheek and temple. And by the rounds of his black irises, I could tell he feared my statement … he feared a Soc. “Just get lost.”

Dally, of course, ignored my blatant pleas and focused on the bag of candies that glowed against the console. “Razzles, my favorite.” The Greaser reached forward, stuffing his dirty hands into the freshly opened bag of Blaze’n Blueberry.

Yup, not touching those anymore.

“Val, you know these guys?” Deborah was mortified that I even knew a name out of the bunch.

I shook my head. “Just Pony, he’s in my English class.”

Now that statement earned a gasp. My friend spun around; her eyes glazed over as she peered at the young Greaser on the left side of her automobile. “You’re in Mr. Syme’s class too?! I love that guy – like in love with that guy … Does he ever mention me? Val here won’t tell me a thing.”

“That’s because you’re going steady with Gerald.”

She waved that comment off, a sense of betrayal looming off of her – which, if I had to guess, was probably due to Gerald’s constant gawking at Cherry Valence. Pony uncomfortably shifted against the leather; unsure what words were the right ones in this situation. “Uh, I don’t think so, but maybe once.”

Deborah couldn’t help but let out a squeal from Pony’s response, the back of her hand now sharply pressed to her forehead as if she was going to faint. Dally grinned at the dramatics, finding humor in the odd conversation that was stricken up. “Y’know what, I’ll make a deal,” I swiveled my head in her direction, widening my eyes in horror. She wouldn’t dare. “If you press Mr. Syme about me, y’all can stay … but only if y’all don’t go ape.”

And she did.

Two of them nodded in unison, shuffling their weight to get comfortable in the small car they deemed necessary to infiltrate. I rolled my eyes at her ultimatum, appalled that she’d be so willing to let a group of Greasers stay in the backseat of her Mustang: But it wasn’t my auto, meaning I had no say. The five of us quickly went back to quietude, watching the flick in front of us; at least until the smell of smoke permeated the air. “Look, if y’all are going to stay, no smoking.”  

“You don’t like smoke?” Dally smirked at my statement, almost as if he had found his new weapon of choice.

“I don’t – so quit it.”

Dally grunted, leaning forward to release a cloud of smoke near my jawline. I immediately balled up my fist, ready to thrust all my power into the crook of his nose, except I held back. All I did was wave away the pollution, turning my head slightly until my skin hovered near the tip of the cigarette. “You stay, our rules.”

“I’m sick of rules,” I dragged my tongue across my lower lip, fighting every urge in me to jump the boy in the backseat. “It seems as though you are too, though.”

“What does that mean?” I spat.

“You went to the wrong side of town, and not many Socs are caught dead on our street.” Deborah gasped at Dally’s retaliation, her head snapping in my direction.

“That’s why you cut class? You were at the Grease Lot?” Her voice was raised, almost loud enough for the rest of the parked cars to hear.

I shot her a look. “If you’re going to act this way – dense – then get out of the car.”

“I’m liking this anger, maybe we can ball like the two over there.” Dally nodded over at the couple who had found themselves fully naked, the movements of their car forming a grotesque image in my brain.

“Oh bug out.”

Dally was about to retort something back, but the boy in denim put his arm out to silence him. “Dal’ leave it be.” His voice wavered slightly, like he wasn’t used to standing up to the man in the middle.

Yet, the coldness of his eyes never disappeared.

I turned my body, peering over at the tan boy who stared back. “Y’know, I like you. What’s your name?”

“Johnny Cade.”

Read the first two chapters here: The Runaways | Quotev

[blackynsupremacy]

ya’ll the outsiders is on tubi 🏃🏾‍♀️

time to simp and cry all over again 😩

[ambrozjas]

I feel like two-bit is the kind of guy to be scared of spiders and then he just atarta get mad and freaks out that the spider is there and starts crying because he's mad(I feel like he would cry when hes mad😭🙏🏻)so could you maybe please do two-bit with a fem reader helping him kill the spider or being scared about it with him please

(also I love writing so much and your theme is so cute💗💗)

“f-fuck—!” two-bit said, drawing out the ‘f’ sound as his eyes widened. he hopped up onto the kitchen counter, knocking over a few bottles in the process as he let out a shrill cry.

you appeared from the hallway, eyes frantic as your head turned in every which way trying to find the threat. “what? what is it?” you screamed. all two-bit did was aggressively point at the floor, to which you squinted at it. and there you saw it. a small black spider. it looked harmless, maybe even cute, really. you bit your cheek to stop yourself from laughing when you heard your boyfriend screeching from on top of the counter for help.

“alright, alright! where are the paper towels?”

“you’ll need a flamethrower for that damn thing! there’s—there’s pro’ly more of ‘em all over this damn house!”

“yeah, ‘cause you don’t clean it, keith.” you snorted, your eyes landing on a small roll of paper towels near the kitchen sink. you sauntered over to them, making sure to go extra slow just to rile him up.

“can’t you go a little faster?! i’m dyin’ here!” he shrieked, extending his hands outwards in an exaggerated motion as his grey eyes widened to the size of saucers.

“are you fuckin’ crying?” you asked as you watched two-bit’s eyes glaze over with a sheen layer of tears.

“just get the damn spider!” he shouted, his voice cracked a bit on the ‘damn’ to which you laughed. all it took was one swift move and you scooped the small arachnid up, clenching it in your hand with the paper towel so it wouldn’t escape.

“y’done bein’ a baby, now?” you tilted your head, your free hand on your hip as you watched two-bit climb off the counter. he cringed at the sight of the paper towel and muttered incoherently as he saw you go to the bathroom to flush the spider down the toilet.

when you came back, you saw two bit pouting on the couch. once you had sat down on the arm of the sofa, you put your hand on his shoulder and asked about his worries. he simply flashed you a cheeky grin, his eyes crinkling at the corners before he asked.

“wanna get me a few more beers, pretty lady?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this request was so cute!!! ughhh and youre so sweet thank you sm 💕

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[slaymybreathaway]

Jersey (Charlie Conway x reader)

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 833

Masterlist

I woke up to Charlie's arms wrapped around my waist, our legs were entangled and my head resting against his chest. I could hear his heartbeat.

We won last night's game and my legs are aching, Coach Orion kept me on the ice the whole game. We won 6 - 2 and the whole team was going out for Pizza to celebrate. I looked at Charlie's alarm clock and it showed 10:30.

I carefully tried to untangle myself without waking up my sleeping boyfriend. I slid out from under his grip and stood up. He started to stir and I was scared that I woke him up. He turned over and settled down.

I looked through the overnight bag that I had packed to stay In Charlie's.

Denim shorts and a red tank top with a black and white flannel to go over it.

Then I thought of a better idea, I walked over to Charlie's wardobe and opened the door. His green Duck's jersey was hanging up on a hanger. I took it down, grabbed my bag and went into the bathroom to get changed.

________________

Charlie's P.O.V

=============

I woke up at 11 and immediately noticed that y/n wasn't there. Instead, there was a note on my bedside table.

My Dearest, Charlie

I'm going to Connie's before we go for food, love you

Y/n

Is it weird that just seeing her handwriting made me blush? Ok it's probably a little weird.

I got up and brushed my teeth. I decided that I would wear my green Duck's jersey because we won.

I ruffled my hair in the mirror and opened my wardrobe. My white jersey was there but not my green one. It can't be in the wash beacause I haven't worn it in like a week. I can't ask my Mom either because she has already left for work.

"Odd, where is it?" I thought but didn't think much about it and put my white jersey on with a pair of jeans.

___________

Your POV

=========

I knocked on the door of Connie's house and her Mom answered the door.

"Oh hello y/n. How are you sweetie?" she asked and let me in.

"I'm doing great, my legs are a bit sore after last night's game but that's alright. Where is Connie?" I said.

"Oh she's up in her room dear," She said and went into the kitchen.

I ran up the stairs and could hear 'About a Girl' by Nirvana being blared from Connie's room.

I knocked on the door snd she told me to come in.

When I walked in she looked at me confused and said "Why is your j- WAIT... Turn around."

I turned around and Connie started laughing. "Look at you! Soon to be Mrs. Conway," she joked.

"haha I wish. I just stole his jersey," I giggled and sat down.

"You guys are so cute I cannot deal. So how was your sleepover? Did you..." she raised an eyebrow.

I threw a pillow at her "NO! Connie, god. We just watched a movie,"

Connie laughed "Ok, ok... Sure you did,"

I stayed in Connie's for an hour or two before heading to Tommy's Pizzaria.

_________________

Charlie's POV

==============

I was walking to Tommy's with Goldberg around 2 and talking about y/n.

"Dude, you never shut up about her. I understand why though, she is hot. Let's say if you... Mysteriously break up for some unknown reason. Can I have her?" Goldberg asked, which made me laugh.

"Haahha I hope you're not planning to kill me now Goldie... And It's bold of you to assume that she would want you," I winked.

"Well yanno I am irresistible," Goldberg flexed his non-existent muscles.

We walked in and the bell rang above us. I looked around for the team and saw them with 2 big tables pulled beside each other. Everyone was there except Goldberg and I.

I saw y/n sitting down, deep in conversation with Fulton. She was wearing her green jersey but It seemed a little big on her. I looked again and realised that she was acctually wearing my jersey.

It looked great on her though. Of course it was a bit big but... right yanno. It might have been that the name Conway was plastered across her back. It showed everyone that she was with me and it made me think about how good Y/n Conway sounded.

I could feel my face getting hot. Goldberg noticed what y/n was wearing beacause he nudged me.

"Nevermind, doesn't look like she'll be leaving you anytime soon," he winked and went to sit beside Julie.

Y/n looked up and her eyes lit up when she saw me,she beckoned me over to sit on the seat next to her.

I sat down and kissed her on the cheek, and whispered in her ear" So that's where my jersey went."

[andyclarkz]

omg.

[filmfanaticsblog]

headcanons for steve randle having an s/o that is completely opposite from him

Steve Randle x Opposite!Reader

(A/N: thanks for the ask!!)

-He was surprised when he realized he liked you, you being quiet and reserved and him being loud

-He’s sometimes very rude and cocky, and you’re always very nice to everyone, so you balance each other out

-Even though you’re opposites, he loves you to death

-The gang thought it was unusual you two were together because you were so different

-You love it when his hair is ungreased, but it’s barely ever like that

-Because he hates it.

-He also takes way too much pride in his hair to take it out, plus it takes SO much time with all the swirls

-He brings out the loudness in you, especially when he’s quiet

-You balance each other out with everything, so you just feel the need to make up for the loud when he’s quiet

-But he’s the only person who you feel comfortable being more loud and chaotic than you usually are because you’re so comfortable with him

(sorry this is so short!! i’m vv tired)

[savvy4618]

Validation Brian Johnson x female reader Breakfast club

So, I love eighties men and I figured it couldn’t hurt to write something yk?

Warnings: John Bender, swearing, sexual references

When you walked into the library you sat across from where Brian originally was before Bender made him move.

“There is no way I am writing a fucking essay,” you sighed letting your head fall to the table.

“But you are a great writer, you get a one hundred on everything in English,” Andy said turning to look at you.

“Still, I don’t want to do it,” you responded lifting your head and resting it on you had that was on the table.

“How did a pretty girl with A’s in every class get herself a Saturday detention?” John asked standing up and making his way behind you.

As he set his hands on your shoulders you turned your head.

“Get your hands off of me,” you said as you shook your shoulder.

“I’ve seen you around you know? You don’t have very many friends and certainly no attention from guys, I would say you don’t really want me to stop touching you,” he said leaning down so his lips were close to your ear and you could feel his breath on your neck.

“Leave her alone,” Brian said looking away from him.

“What? Is he your boyfriend?” He asked.

“No,” you said standing up. “Now get your hands off of me, just because you can sleep with a bunch of the girls in this stupid school doesn’t mean you can do the same to me!” You shove him back by his chest and he steps back till the back of his legs hit the table where Allison is sitting.

“Feisty,” he grinned.

You sat back down and pulled a book out of your bag, deciding not to pay much attention to him.

After around 20 minutes Brian asked, “what are you reading?”

“Pride and Prejudice,” you replied.

“You like old books?”

“Yeah I guess I do,” you replied smiling at him.

“Hey Y/N, what did you get on that project we did for science?” Claire asked turning in her chair to face you.

“98, what about you?” You asked.

“76, would you mind helping me with the homework for science tomorrow?” She asked.

“Not at all,” you smile.

~

You had quite the afternoon, now sat next to Brian on the couch as you all smoked.

“You got a boyfriend Y/N?” Andy asked.

“No,” you replied flinging your head backwards.

“You know, you are really pretty, so why don’t you have a boyfriend. I mean I’m sure loads of guys ask you out,” he questioned.

“Boy’s done really matter, all the guys who ask me out or hit on me aren’t looking for something serious it’s always a joke or them wanting to sleep with me and a relationship like that just seems like a waste of time,” you responded.

Nobody responded. Brian turned his head and pulled the sunglasses that were over his eyes off of his face in a very dramatic way.

“Would you date me?” He asked.

“Hmm,” you giggled.

“Oh come on,” he said turning his body so he was sitting facing you.

Not in his right mind he leaned forward and placed a small kiss on your neck that was angled towards the ceiling.

“Brian!” You exclaimed sitting upright and looking at him.

He didn’t say anything, he just let out a little laugh.

“Alright you too, that’s enough,” Andy laughed.

~

“Why do you study so much?” John asked as he sat on the floor across from you somewhere in the library.

“Because,”

“Because why?”

“Because how am I supposed to be successful in the future if I’m stupid?” You replied.

He twisted his torso to look towards where Brian was sitting.

“She seems like your type of girl,” he commented.

You just scoffed as you continued to write in the little notebook that sat in your lap as Brian stared at you with such deep affection John thought he might actually be sick.

~

As everyone left the building Brian walked next to you.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey,” you smiled.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” He asked

“Not that I am aware of, why?”

“You want to go to lunch with me?” He asked.

“Sure,” you giggle leaving a small kiss on his cheek and walking the rest of the way to your car.

I LOVE the breakfast club, anyway these are my interpretations of the characters, if you’d like feel free to leave a request, it doesn’t have to be this show specifically.

[eternalslover]

My new hyperfixation

love your writing & noticed your requests were open !!

can you do hcs for falling asleep on the boys? (head in their lap/resting on their shoulder/lying on their chest/etc.)

A/N: This is such a cute request? I love the soft fluff involved in this and had so much fun writing this <3 thanks for the request

DARRY CURTIS

Darry likes to read the newspaper, it’s canon, and I have a feeling he’d just sit in his chair for an hour or so in the evenings, leafing through his newspaper

Gently nudge the papers to the side and crawl into his lap, tuck your head under his chin or into the crook of his neck and just lay with him for a while

Fall asleep in his arms because it’s going to be a little while before he comes to bed and you might as well lay with him while he’s busy 

Darry loves it when you fall asleep on him, he makes sure to hold you a little tighter and press a soft kiss to the side of your head as he keeps you close

In the newspaper scenario, he’d have an arm around your waist, fingers drawing shapes into your hips as his eyes scan over the words in front of him

If you shift or make a noise, Darry is immediately turning his attention to you and pulling you closer, making sure you’re okay

SODAPOP CURTIS

I feel like falling asleep on Sodapop doesn’t really happen? Because like if you’re asleep, Soda’s falling asleep almost at the same time

Nap time is nap time for the both of you, y’know? I just think that Sodapop would be cute like that 

Loves the feeling of you falling asleep on him though, especially when your head is on his shoulder and he’s got his arm around you

If you get cuddly when you’re tired, look no further than your darling Sodapop, he likes cuddles

Has most definitely used the excuse of you being asleep to get out of stuff-

Like, it’s late, post-rumble and everyone’s scattered around the living room, Soda wants cake but you’re half-asleep against his side so he quietly annoys Ponyboy until he agrees to go and get Sodapop a slice of cake from the icebox     

PONYBOY CURTIS

Don’t be afraid to manhandle him a little so you have a comfortable sleeping space? Nudge him so he’s sitting where you want and then just fall asleep

He won’t care, I promise you, he’ll be too busy mentally combusting at the physical affection to really care what you’re doing 

I have a feeling he’d have like a complete mental breakdown the first time you fall asleep on him <3

Whether it’s on the bench in the lot or his bed at the Curtis house when you’re taking a break from studying, Pony sort of has to take a minute because you, the one he’s absolutely enamored with, is asleep with their head on his chest

Heaven forbid his brothers or the boys find you, the two of you will be hearing about you asleep on Ponyboy for a solid two weeks

The visual of being asleep on Ponyboy’s chest while he’s reading a book, his hands resting on the small of your back, his nose buried in your hair while his eyes shift back and forth over your head as he reads <3  

DALLAS WINSTON

Buck knocking and opening Dally’s door to see him leaning back into the corner by his bed with you sprawled out across his chest, sound asleep while he’s quietly smoking-

It’s probably one of the only times you’ll see a soft and quiet Dally, he’s very gentle

Softly running his hands through your hair when you’re on the edge of sleep to help and coax you into relaxing against him

He likes to pretend he’s such a hardass, so he’ll complain about something when you wake up, whether your elbow was digging into his ribs or you made his arm fall asleep when you used his bicep as a pillow or your weight made it hard to breathe

That being said, he’s never turned you away when you want to fall asleep on him except for like when you’re in public and stuff

It makes him feel wanted, feel needed, he likes that you have that trust in him to be relaxed enough around him to fall asleep, he likes that you feel safe enough  

JOHNNY CADE

Falling asleep in the lot after a long night of watching the stars, curled up together on that old car bench, your head on his shoulder as you cuddle together, neither of you quite ready to go home and overly content in each other’s arms

Falling asleep on Johnny is such a wholesome experience? Like? He’s such a sweetheart?

Keep a respectful arm around your waist or a hand on your hip to keep you close to him

You kind of serve the purpose of a weighted blanket but in the very best way? If that makes sense?

A calming presence and gentle pressure that sort of keeps Johnny content and make it easier to fall asleep

10/10, would definitely recommend taking a nap on Johnnycake, his little freakout, when he realizes you’re actually asleep and using him as a pillow, is the cutest thing ever 

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Post-rumble and everything? Two-Bit is not afraid to take over the entire couch with you and kick the boys to the chairs and floor

Sprawl out on the couch, lay your head in his lap and watch whatever’s on television or watch the boys hang around until you can’t keep your eyes open

Two-Bit’ll play with your hair, wrapping the strands around his fingers and scratching at your scalp until you’re asleep with your head resting on his thigh

He’s very protective over you when you’re sleeping, especially if he’s serving the role of your pillow

Two-Bit makes sure no one disrupts you and will handle all of the teasing on his own with a fond smile on his face and a gentle hand resting on your back

It’s so obvious that he’s head over heels for you in these moments, the boys have caught him so many times, attention totally on you as he runs his hands over your shoulders and pulls you closer to him when you make a noise

STEVE RANDLE

Falling asleep on Steve <3 cannot even begin to describe how much I love this, I love this little dude so much

No matter how you fall asleep, whether you’re laying with your head on his chest, leaning against his shoulder, or with your head in your lap, Steve is over the moon

He’s so in love, so very in love with you, and you can just tell by the look on his face when he’s busy staring at you

Steve’s likes to have his arms around you, hugging you close when you’re asleep-

If you’re asleep on his chest, he rests his chin on top of your head; if you’ve got your head in his lap, he’s got his hand on the back of your neck, playing with your hair; if your head is on his shoulder, he’s pressing periodic kisses to your head

Steve likes to talk, that’s no surprise to anyone, so as you’re falling asleep, he’ll ask about your day, make small comments about how he loves you, smiling every time you give him a hum in reply <3

TIM SHEPARD

You falling asleep on him in like one of the highest forms of intimacy in his mind, he usually sleeps on his stomach, we’ve talked about it a little here and it lives rent-free in my mind-

When you fall asleep with your head on his chest, that’s probably one of his favorite things, he loves all of it, laying on his back is like a special thing for you

If he wants your head on his chest, he’ll tug you down with him on the couch so you’re laying between his legs with your head over his heart

Tim will unconsciously synch his breathing with yours as he rubs up and down on your back, kissing your head every so often as he noses along your hairline

His siblings know well enough to keep their mouths shut if they find you sleeping on Tim’s chest in the living room, they won’t say anything until you’re gone

Tim’s protective of you when you’re sleeping, just like Two-Bit is, he keeps you close, a protective arm around your body 

CURLY SHEPARD

Just like with his brother, Curly sleeps on his stomach, which means the opportunity to fall asleep on him doesn’t always present itself

When the occasion arises, and you do, there’s a moment of oh-my-god-you’re-asleep-you’re-really-asleep-and-your-head-is-on-my-shoulder and Curly has a mini freak-out

He’s not used to all the soft affection, none of the Shepard siblings are but you always give him the soft affection and are so good to him, he short circuits sometimes

Curls settles quickly though, he tightens his arm around you and pulls you closer, pressing a tentative kiss to your forehead

He blushes so hard when somebody finds the two of you laying together and tries to bury his face in your hair

Tim will ask him about how you slept the next morning, sipping casually at a mug of coffee

[chelestials]

“ponyboy did not stay gold” “what happened to them” *giving low ratings to the actors because they’re old now* SHUT UPPPPPPP PLS🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏 idc if it’s a joke it was funny at first but i don’t wanna hear it anymore PEOPLE AGE…

[sytoran]

home is where the heart is ★ n.r

— 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ;; 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐅𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐆𝐇

in which your married life with natasha romanoff is depicted through this comedy-drama series. with your dream job, three kids, and a plethora of friends, each day is blissful but all the more chaotic and unpredictable. (and ultimately, very horny.)

pairing ★ sub!wife!natasha x beefy!butch!reader

chapter summary ★ twitter's sole purpose is for you to thirst over your wife, the beach is a good place to spend time with your kids, and ogle at your wife in a bathing suit, but not a great a place to have sex. (lesson learnt).

warnings ★ (MINORS DNI) - explicit content, hard stuff: beach sex, doggy style, cunnilingus, daddy kink, SO MUCH thirsting

word count ★ 4.0k (get fed gremlins)

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

*****

In tandem with Tony Stark’s spontaneity, Steve Rogers’ unending enthusiasm, and the fact that you privately owned close to twenty beach resorts in New York alone, the lot of you and your other friends had a beach outing planned for that Sunday.

After the astronomically long time it took to get your kids dressed, beach toys packed, picnic dinner prepared, and everything loaded into the car, five happy L/N-Romanoffs finally kickstart their journey to the Westview Surfers’ Beach.

“SAND!” Emilia roars maniacally, once the five of you step foot onto the sandy shore. She’s gone like the ocean breeze, sprinting into the distance, grains of sand flying everywhere.

“Sea! Sea! Sea!” Emilio is equally as excited, already by the tide of the brilliantly blue ocean, following its ebb and flow with scampering feet and delighted cries. 

“Careful, Emilio!” Marina says, holding his hand, preventing her over excited brother from falling over. You can see the way she laughs along, kicking up water with her slippers.

Behind your eager children, you swing you and Natasha’s interlocked hands as you casually stroll along the beach, giving her a sweet smile. 

The sand that crunched beneath your feet was earthen and dry, such a gentle hue of gold, almost as grounding as the bright smile your wife returned.

“You look heavenly,” you murmur, bringing up the underside of your wife’s palm to press a gentle kiss to it. She flushes prettily, the sundress she’s adorning doing wonders to her skin tone and curves.

Natasha returns the softness, pressing into your side as you wrap a firm arm around her waist, hand cupping the curve of her motherly hips.

“Oy, lovebirds!”

At the sound of a distinctly familiar voice, you and Natasha spin around with bemused looks. From a distance, you can see Tony with a flamingo floatie around his hips, waving comically.

Next to him, the regular gang is sprawled across three separate picnic mats, conveniently hidden from the sun under several large beach umbrellas. 

Pepper is fixing up Tony’s floatie, to which Carol and Valkyrie snicker at from afar. Thor is asleep on the mats, taking up more than half the area. Laura is busy reading, with Clint probably gone to find seashells for the sandcastle Bucky and Steve are constructing. The kids make a long human chain from the shore to the sandcastle, scooping up buckets of water to make a trench.

“Aunty Y/N! Aunty Nat!” Nathaniel squeals, dropping his bucket, running over and leaping into your arms.

“What’s up, you little rascal?” you ask, laughing as the youngest Barton giggles. Natasha ruffles his head, waving at Lila. 

Morgan, being the same age as Emilia and Emilio, is already chatting excitedly with them and kicking up a loud racket. Marina joins Cooper in attaining bucketfuls of seawater.

“What’s up, my favourite lesbians?” Tony calls out to you and Natasha with outstretched arms, comically ignorant to the death-glare Valkyrie shoots him. 

Natasha rolls her eyes in faux annoyance, strolling past him and brightening up animatedly to chat with the ladies. You pat Tony’s back sympathetically. 

Your attention flits to an impressively large sandcastle with a sculpture of a mermaid on top, hand-crafted by Steve and Bucky. Leaning closer to Tony, you whisper, “Why does the mermaid kinda look like you?”

Leaving him to splutter at his intentionally uncanny resemblance to the mermaid, with a seashell bra and an elegant tail, you look up to see Clint coming back with his arms full of seashells. 

“Hi, Y/N!” He greets distractedly. In the midst of his frantic haste, Clint’s foot gets caught on a stray rock —

And the rest is a scene out of a comedy movie. 

The seashells go flying out of his arms, scattering onto the picnic mat and spraying sand everywhere, Clint loses his balance and flies forward, outstretched arms knock into the sandcastle, and everyone watches in horror as Steve and Bucky’s great unfinished symphony comes crumbling down, leaving only the head of Tony’s mermaid untouched.

A quiet hush falls. 

Bucky and Steve’s faces are morphed into disbelief and heartbreak, and Clint trembles in fear with sand in his mouth. Tony shudders at his beheaded mermaid, the ladies have their hands over their mouths, and Natasha fights battles in order not to burst out laughing. Thor sleeps unperturbed, and even the kids' racket has died down.

“Well,” you announce, breaking the stunned silence. “Who wants to go surfing?”

*****

As Natasha lazes in a beach chair, away from the gory scene of Steve and Bucky dunking Clint in the seawater, she watches you with a budding fire in her belly. 

Standing on the sand so casually, you have your hefty surfboard tucked under one arm, and Emilio in your other. You’re speaking to him with a roguish grin, unbuttoned Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, tinted sunglasses pushed up to muss up your perfectly tousled hair. 

“You ready to ride the waves, bub?” 

“Yeah! I’m ready!”

Your wife swallows, thinking she was ready to ride something else.

Natasha crosses her legs unsubtly. It was honestly unfair, how indifferently attractive you were, like it was a state of being instead of a practised art. 

Perhaps it was her love for you and the longevity of your marriage that warped her perception of sexiness, but when you were casually strolling on the beach with that chiselled abdomen on display, who was she to be blamed?

“Y/N!” Natasha calls, sitting up slightly. There’s a devious little idea blooming in the back of her mind, and she feels like taking the bait, just for today.

You look up at your wife’s beckoning, and smile widely at her. Setting Emilio down gingerly and calling him a “little rascal”, you jog over to Natasha easily. 

When you flick your hair back, it glints in the sunlight, and so does the sheen of sweat under your sports bra, defining the cutting edges of your abdomen. Natasha has the criminal urge to rip off your swimming trunks there and then.

Despite your obliviousness, Natasha is more than well-aware of the stares you’re getting from young women and married women alike, momentarily disregarding their boyfriends and husbands to gawk at you.

“Damn, look at that fine specimen!”

“Ryan, why don’t you work out more?”

“There goes my heterosexuality.”

You get feasted upon hungry eyes like a slab of beef, likened to your beefiness, but it only makes Natasha’s possessiveness skyrocket.

“Hey, honey,” you say, settling on a low and inviting tone that has your wife blushing. You crouch down next to her beach chair, holding her hand in a sweet gesture. “What’s up?” 

You’re close to her, so close, and she can feel the heat radiating off you, and your distinct scent, and the overwhelming senses of want and need are washing over Natasha like those tidal waves in the ocean.

But well, Natasha knew more than a few ways to rile you up too.

“I think I want to go surfing too,” she lies through her teeth, having no inclination to partake in the sport. Natasha fakes a pout all too well, knowing it’s one of your many weaknesses. “But the sun’s really hot out there, so I need some help with the sunscreen.” 

It wasn’t like she’d have needed it, anyway. Just like that and you’re sold, ever the gentleman and the golden retriever, digging for the sunscreen in the duffel bag.

“Of course, honey,” you reply readily. “Is it the Banana Boat sunscreen, or is that the kids’ one? Oh wait, we have the SPF 50 one, I think that’s—”

Words trail off comically when you look back up at Natasha, gradually dying down completely.

Your wife has conveniently slid off her outer layer of a sheer white blouse, leaving her in just a matching two-piece set of an azure bathing suit. The top piece is held together with thin pieces of string, accentuating her chest in a tight cradle. The lack of coverage shows off the dip of her hips and her soft curves.

Coherent thoughts in your mindwires get severed as Natasha plays with the string on her bottom piece, nearly flashing you as the material slides down ever so slightly. Your throat dries up as her fingers trail a path over her tummy and cleavage. She plays with another bundle of string that keeps her chest barely covered, and the irresistible urge rises within you to undo it.

“My eyes are up here, y’know,” Natasha murmurs, laying on her side and looking at you through lowered lashes.

“I know where they are,” you answer hoarsely, gaze still fixated on your wife’s enticing cleavage.

The sheer amount of bare skin that Natasha is showing off has your remaining fragments of sanity falling to pieces. There’s no point even trying to hide the tent in your pants, poking uncomfortably against the fabric.

“Gonna help me lather sunscreen?” Natasha asks with a silky lilt to her voice, turning over on the beach chair. 

You groan out loud when you see the curve of your wife’s ass on display, her rounded bottom barely covered by a few measly pieces of material, all held together by flimsy strings and nothing else.

“Mhm,” you respond brainlessly, uncapping the bottle and rubbing your hands with a bountiful amount of the moisture, clearly in excess.

You begin applying your wife’s sunscreen with overzealous eagerness and desire. Large hands spread unnecessarily widely as you gain coverage over the soft skin of her back, trailing up and down and smearing the white moisture over her soft skin.

“Oh, that feels nice,” Natasha says airily, a dainty little sound that causes your cock to twitch in your shorts. 

The line down the middle of Natasha’s back is emphasised as she tenses and relaxes it. Like clockwork, you begin massaging your wife’s back to release the tension in her muscles.

“Y/N…” The breathy moan she lets out is pure heaven, dragged out from the depths of her throat, then lifting to a higher tone that washes over you in a sea of goosebumps.

Of course, your faux masseuse skillset is just a simple ploy to grope and knead at Natasha. Fat spills through your fingers as you spread your hands across her torso, as Natasha whines softly.

It wouldn’t take a genius to realise that the heat building between the two of you was not just due to the heatwaves under the beating, unforgiving sun.

Your frighteningly quickly-growing arousal only heightens when Natasha feels that her back is done and flips over. Face-to-face with her hefty mounds, a round belly, and the blown pupils of viridescent eyes — you lose the plot completely. 

Deft hands fly to your wife’s ample assets, squeezing her hips in sinful amounts and staking your claim. “You’re so pretty, baby,” you mumble, face buried into the crook of her neck, subtly mouthing at her neck.

“Mhm,” Natasha whines in agreement, but it turns into a gasp as your fingers slip underneath the material of her bra, plucking at hardened nipples in merciless haste.

You press down onto her, flat tongue and sharp teeth, licking a broad stripe up your wife’s exposed collarbone to the tender column of her neck.

Before you can taint clear skin with raging-purple bruises, you’re pulled away with a firm grip on the back of your neck. You look back up to see Natasha gazing at you sternly. 

“Let’s try not to perpetuate public sex while you are the owner of this place, with all our friends present, and the kids building sandcastles no less than ten feet away.”

Much to your disgruntlement, these factors weigh in heavily and overpower your body’s built-in “pretty-wife-need-to-worship” mechanic. Now, your shorts fill up a lot more space than need be, your shaft pressing hot and tight against your left leg, clearly visible.

You grumble, hands still clammy with sunblock, the ghost of Natasha’s warmth still interlaced between each of your fingers. “You’re a meanie,” you sulk, lust-driven adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Natasha looks at you with a wicked smile. “And you’re too susceptible, darling. Now, where’s my flask? I plan on staying plenty hydrated before watching you rough it out against the waves.”

Clearly put-off by not being able to fuck your wife in your public beach resort, you flip off a little kid who openly ogles at Natasha’s ass, much to your wife’s horror.

*****

“I’M NOT BUILT FOR THIS!” Tony screams, arms flailing, as he rides a shallow wave. His firmly implanted foot adds too much weight on the front of his neon yellow surfboard, and the over-eager man overturns comically as the current rushes.

You laugh out loud, Hawaiian shirt flapping in the wind, surfing past Tony in a smooth motion. “Stick to the flamingo floatie, little guy!”

Valkyrie barely dodges the splash Tony creates, nearly falling off her own board. “Fuck off, you cunt!” she yells, full-chested and deadly focused on the tide. From a distance in the shallower part of the ocean, a reprimanding “Language!” can be heard.

Natasha’s wading in the shallower waters with Laura, while Thor had opted to sun tan on the beach while watching the kids.

As a large wave approaches, Natasha watches with intent. Upon your wife’s new found attention, you mentally prepare yourself, determined to impress her, and perhaps get revenge for her prior ploy.

You manoeuvre deftly, putting weight on your back foot to stabilise as you approach the wave head-on. Three… two… one. You add even more weight on your back foot as you go around the back turn while gaining speed, garnering energy like a coiled spring.

As the wave reaches its full height, broad and steep, your calves release with impact, propelling up the barrel of the wave like a spring. The surfboard moves in effortless motion, anchored by your back foot, navigated by your right.  

The second you reach the lip of the wave, you find the sweet spot to execute the backside tail slide. You rotate your wide-set shoulders, swiftly switching the pressure to your front foot. 

Your surfboard glides off the surface for a split-second, turning mid-air — there’s a camera-worthy frame of damp hair, stray droplets, and focused eyes.

You slide back down at an oblique angle with purpose and precision, like a scene out of a movie, locking eyes with Natasha as the wave crashes behind you.

“Damn, Y/N!” Carol hoots, looking amazed as you surf back to the rest of the gang.

“That was crazy,” Steve adds, resting belly-down onto the surfboard, strikingly adorable for a hulking man.

“Gotta admit, that was pretty cool,” Tony comments, his head bobbing above the surface of the water and his surfboard nowhere to be found.

You laugh along with them, attempting to explain the technical jargon of how you did it. But as much as you appreciated your friends’ enthusiasm, there was ultimately only one person you sought validation from. 

“Hi,” you say to Natasha with a stupid smile, sitting on your surfboard, having escaped the rest. 

“That was very sexy of you,” your wife wastes no time in stating, as if she wasn’t five millimetres away from flashing you and killing you with her sexiness. 

Natasha is stuck on the image of your damp hair flying into place like a scene out of a superhero movie, unbuttoned shirt flailing up to expose your defined back and abdomen, concentration flashing in your eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum lowly. Fire burns low in your belly as you ogle your wife in her bathing suit, pulling her closer by the underside of her thighs.

In a moment of indiscretion, your left hand slips upwards and undoes the knot on Natasha’s bathing suit, letting the material slip from your fingers.

“Y/N!” Though blocked from view of the others as it was underwater, Natasha lets out a breathy gasp and presses into you. Her cunt, already soaked before, gets even wetter at the intrusion of seawater.

“Can I claim my prize?” you ask heavily, hot pants against your wife’s ear, driving her wild with the way your fingers slip through her folds to encroach on her entrance.

In no time at all, two of your fingers are at Natasha’s cunt, feeling slick even underwater, and you push in—

“Group picture!” Steve yells from a distance, as you and your wife effectively leap apart in the water, the heated moment dissipated into thin air. 

But it lingers, the arousal, swimming in the back of your consciousness as you smile for a group selfie. Bucky’s arm is around you but you thank the heavens for hiding your erection under the water.

You can tell Natasha feels the same, eyes locking on you even after Steve successfully takes the group picture. (After many attempts.)

“I’m gonna go check on the kids,” Natasha finally says, gesturing back as if she was going to walk back to shore. She’s expectant, waiting.

“And I think I’m gonna go check with her!” you add, chuckling awkwardly, beckoning backwards with your thumbs.

“Okay,” Steve says disbelievingly, eyes glimmering with knowing and just a little amusement. Tony is much less subtle in his sniggering, and Clint looks horrified at the prospect of doing it at the beach.

Tony claps you on the back as you walk past. “Use protection,” he whispers, and you fumble out a haphazard response. 

*****

Turns out, you and Natasha don’t even make it to a completely secluded area before you’re half-undressed and panting. 

And maybe that’s half the thrill, hidden in a secluded beach cave, with regular people roaming around just outside. You’re pressed skin-to-skin with each other and tuning out everything else.

You groan as you snap the strings of Natasha’s bathing suit off, finally, finally. Teardrop tits bounce in place, shaking with the impact of how hard you jerk against your wife, unbearably uncomfortable in the constraints of your boxers.

Natasha takes mercy on you, helping you to tug down your Calvin Clein briefs, watching with heady arousal as your shaft slaps against your six-pack, red and raw and leaking.

“Hurry up,” Natasha whines, bending over and clutching at a stray rock, ass in the air as she exposes her leaking cunt to you. 

“Fuck, baby,” you groan, grabbing onto her ass and slapping it just because you can. You sink deep into your wife, warmth and relief enveloping you as you bury yourself inside her.

The first thrust is like heaven, feeling the pulse and push of Natasha’s walls as she accommodates to take your size, stretching to a familiar extent because you’d made a nest in there for yourself. 

The second thrust takes you there, an insurgent amount of slick coating your cock, flooding the path you proceed to pummel into. “Natty,” you whine, groping at her ass and pulling it closer to you, hilt-deep with no signs of stopping.

“Mhm, daddy,” Natasha moans, walls fluttering around you as you pull out, trying to stop your escape. But then you thrust forward, again, warm and full and deep, and your wife wails beneath you.

Natasha lets this velvet sound from her throat, silky and coated in honey as she breathes reinvigorated life into your arousal.

“Fuck,” you growl, rutting your hips with more rigour. Natasha whines, wrists suspended behind her back with one of your hands as you have your way with her.

“Baby I’m gonna come,” you gasp, virility cloaking the way your abdomen presses up against Natasha, left hand encircling her neck to bring your hot mouth up to hers.

You’re hardly embarrassed for how fast you’re barrelling towards climax, as Natasha is in much more of the same position. She’s panting your name, clutching at the rocks with hard sand digging into her feet. Your cock nudges and prods into her sweet spots effortlessly, the result of countless sex experiences.

“M-me too,” she responds breathily, breaking off into a whine as you press heated, open-mouthed kisses along the line of her back, tasting the salt and sweat on your tongue.

Pleasure blossoms in your lower torso, creeping up the base of your shaft and working its way upwards. Hot arousal overflows from its constraints, and your teeth sinks into your bottom lip as you come, quick and hot and messy.

“Oh!” Natasha moans, high-pitched and sensitive, as you pluck at her ruby-hard nipples. It only takes a few more thrusts for her to reach release, dripping down your cock and her thighs.

“Mhm, nhn—” As your wife raises in pitch and volume, you stuff three fingers into her open mouth, giving her something to suck on and remain quiet. You continue with gentle thrusts, feeling thick white liquid flow out the side of Natasha’s ruined cunt.

“Needa taste you,” you suddenly grunt, hips bumping into Natasha’s ass. She babbles her agreement, despite being half-conscious in a state of post-orgasmic pleasure. 

Easily, you lift Natasha and set her down onto the sandy shore of the beach cave, where the tide is low and washes over your feet gently.

It’s a change of pace, a gradual end to your savage ravaging, slow and sensual, where the water meets the sand. You lower yourself between Natasha’s spread thighs, lips slightly parted and dripping with need.

Natasha swallows audibly, right hand twisting into your tousled hair, looking at you through hooded eyes and lowered lashes. 

Words are left unspoken between the two of you, the tension speaking for itself, as you retain eye contact while lowering your mouth onto Natasha’s pulsing cunt.

You take your last breath of the fresh sea salt air and summer breeze before drowning in unbridled desire. As if making out passionately, you eat your wife out, switching between licking and sucking.

Poetry is written between the lines — the lilt of Natasha’s hitched breath, the crease of her thighs where your fingertips drag across, the shallow water that wades over your feet in a cool decrescendo.

Your head dips down once more, warm and wet, and the sun melts into the horizon, glazing golden and liquid orange. 

With your tongue lodged fully inside your wife’s pussy, marking your inability to breathe, and wide hands spread firmly over Natasha’s thighs, the two of you converge in saintly devotion, hushed worship falling from her lips.

“Please, just like that, please, daddy, please.”

Just like that, and the ocean swallows you whole, taking you under Natasha’s hold inescapably. Your name is said in a breathless cry, lilting and pronounced, and you shudder between her clenched thighs.

“Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“I think there’s ocean water up my asshole.”

“Yeah, I got some sand up my vagina too.”

*****

and that's chapter two of 'hiwthi'! how did yall feel about the introduction of the rest of the cast? i personally enjoyed writing the build-up scenes the most. (sunscreen and surfing!) and for those keen on expanding the family dynamic, i'll be building on that in the next chapter!

reblog or i will take 292857192 years to post the next part

SERIES MASTERLIST || MAIN MASTERLIST

[juniperskye]

I Can’t Do This.

Sneak peek: Reader is recently off of a long-term undercover operation (similar to Emily’s) that left her in a bad way. Director Cruz reaches out, assigning her to the BAU. After speaking to her therapist and expressing her concerns, they come up with a solution of how to inform her new boss of some of the horrors she endured on her mission. Hotch keeps a close eye on her, being careful not to trigger her…until one day, he accidentally does in the worst way. ITALLICS ARE FLASHBACKS! BOLD ARE THERAPY SESSIONS.

Aaron Hotchner x (Fem) BAU! Reader

Angst/Fluff

Word count: 5605

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Requests are open and feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: My blog is 18+, minors DNI,YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR OWN MEDIA CONSUMPTION. age gap (reader is in their 20’s and Hotch is in his 40’s), explicit language, mention of canon typical violence, mention of therapy, reader attends regular therapy sessions, mention of a toxic previous “relationship”, mention of a previous dom/sub dynamic, murder, talk of trafficking, forced consent (reader is working the undercover op) mention of previous abuse and manipulation, some use of y/n, Hotch accidentally triggering the reader, let me know if I missed anything!

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

“Y/n it has been three months since you returned from your undercover op, it’s time. The BAU needs an additional agent, and you’d make a great addition. It’s really not up for discussion.” Director Cruz ended with finality.

“I really don’t think I am ready. Director Cruz, I know it has been three months, and you guys have been so gracious with the paid leave, but I’m still working through everything I went through when I was under.” You explained.

“Your therapist and the FBI issued psych eval have both cleared you to return y/n. You’re joining the BAU. You’ll begin next Monday.” Cruz decided.

“Okay.”

With that you stood and exited his office. It’s not that you didn’t want to work for the BAU, in fact, under normal circumstances you’d have been begging for this placement. But after everything you endured while undercover, you weren’t sure you could handle being on a team, especially not one run by Aaron Hotchner.

--

“You were recommended to me by Sheri, did she tell you anything about me?” He questioned.

“She mentioned you were looking for someone who knew how to follow rules.” You answered.

You had been assigned to an undercover operation in which a very powerful man would finally be brought to justice. Emilio Alvatorre, one of FBI’s most wanted. This man did unspeakable things and lucky for you, he was in the market for a new submissive. Normally the FBI wouldn’t jump at putting an agent in this kind of situation, however, in this case Emilio was known to keep his subs knelt at his side in his office. That would mean that you would be privilege to information that could take him down.

“So, are you good at following rules?” Emilio said in a voice meant to be sexy, but it was truly repulsive.

Leaning in to whisper in his ear, “The best.”

--

“I’m worried that Agent Hotchner is going to give me a directive and that I will follow it whether I agree with it or not. I am terrified that I have completely lost myself, and that I will just blindly follow.” You explained.

“Y/n we’ve talked about this, you are strong, you are capable of making decisions and speaking up for yourself.”

“Yeah but being at the BAU with Agent Hotchner, he’s a very commanding and dominant man, what if I fall right back into…” You trailed off.

“He is commanding and dominant, but he isn’t Emilio. I am going to give you some homework, and then I’d like to see you again on Thursday so we can go over it before you join the BAU Monday.”

“You’re right. What’s the homework?” You asked.

“I want you to first come up with a list of coping strategies for when you begin to feel anxious or overwhelmed on the job. Then I want you to write a letter to read to Agent Hotchner giving him some insight as to what you have been through.”

“Absolutely not! Sylvia I can’t do that!”

“Y/n I am not asking you to give him all the details, just a little bit that might help him to know you.”

“Fine.”

--

You had a hard time figuring out what to put in the letter to Agent Hotchner, debating what was too much versus what was too little to say. How much did he need to know, how much were you comfortable sharing…it was all becoming a bit much.

Ultimately, you’d written something up along with a perfect list of coping strategies that you knew would satisfy your therapist.

After meeting with her on Thursday and going over what you came up with, and allowing her to help you tweak a few things, your body filled with dread, anxiously awaiting Monday morning when you’d have to go into the BAU.

--

Director Cruz escorted you to the floor that houses the BAU, bringing you into Agent Hotchner’s office for introductions. You felt like you had just walked out on a stage completely naked with the way all the other agents were looking at you.

“Hotchner, this is Agent y/n. I sent over her file last week. She is going to start with the BAU today.” Director Cruz announced.

“Yes, I saw your email. It is nice to finally meet you.” Agent Hotchner greeted.

“Y/n would you excuse us for just a moment, I’d like to speak to Hotch here.”

Without another word you followed the director’s order. You stepped out of the office and stood patiently waiting for their conversation to end.

--

“She’s anxious.” Spencer mumbled.

“Wouldn’t you be?” Emily replied.

“No, look at her, she’s digging her nails into her palms, a light sweat has broken out on her neck, her heartrate has increased slightly, and she hasn’t looked up at us once. She’s probably suffering from severe anxiety.” Spencer rambled.

“Don’t profile the newbie Spence.” Emily scolded, patting his shoulder.

--

“Alright, y/n go on in and Hotch will fill you in on what his expectations for you are.” Director Cruz headed off.

With a light knock, you awaited Agent Hotchner’s approval before entering his office once again. Mentally chastising yourself for your submissive actions.

“Agent y/n, please, have a seat.” Hotch gestured.

You sat in one of the chairs across from him.

“It says here in your file that you’re recently returning from a twelve-month assignment. I noticed the assignment isn’t labeled as classified, but quite a bit of it was redacted. Can you speak on that at all?” Hotch inquired.

“Agent Hotchner, if it is okay with you, I have somethings I’d like to discuss. Some of which is relevant of that case, but it is primarily regarding the effects that case had on me.”

“Go ahead.” Hotch nodded.

“The undercover op I was working put me in a position in which I was forced and manipulated to blindly following directions from someone. I had to do this for twelve months, and since then, I have had a pretty hard time finding my voice again. Certain things can be triggering for me, so I wrote up some things for you, with the help of my therapist. There are coping strategies that I may need to utilize and there are somethings there for you, to navigate situations that may come up.” You were worried that this was all going to lead to Hotch doubting your ability to do this job. “I also want to make it known that I told the Director that I wasn’t ready to return to work.”

“Thank you for sharing this, I think it’ll help me to make your transition back to work smooth. As for you being ready, I think you sharing that information shows a lot about your strength and I think you are more than ready to be here.”

--

“Kneel.” Emilio ordered with a snap of his fingers.

You slowly dropped to your knees, sitting back on your heels and resting your palms on the tops of your thighs, your gaze focused on the frayed rug that covered the hardwood floor in front of you.

“Bring him in.” Emilio spoke into the intercom that connects him to his security.

The guards drag in a man who appears to be near death, clearly beaten. Emilio rests a hand on your head, gently petting your hair before speaking in a tone you don’t recognize.

“I heard you’ve been snooping around. Talking to Jeremy and his guys.” Emilio spat.

“I haven’t sir I swear!” The man was begging for his life.

“I don’t like snakes.” Emilio raised his gun and shot the man point blank.

You couldn’t help but flinch at the sound. A strong hand was quick to grip your chin.

“Flinching is a sign of weakness. I can’t have a pet that is weak.” His grip tightened “Are you weak?”

“No sir.” You reassured.

“Good.”

--

Working with the BAU had been going well, Hotch had truly been incredible. He’d encouraged you to share your thoughts and theories while on cases. He also reminded you to use your coping strategies when the cases became particularly overwhelming.

Like today for example. The team was working on a case that was taking a toll on you, mentally and emotionally. Women were being kidnapped then brutally tortured and left for dead in the street. It was becoming increasingly difficult to detach yourself from what these women must’ve been feeling.

Hotch was quick to notice the change in your demeanor and he made it a point to assign you with Spencer at the precinct. You were tightening up the victimology while Spencer worked on the geographical profile. You had come to the conclusion that the unsub was targeting victims primarily on their looks, they had all been of similar height, had same color hair and eyes. Worse than that…they all kind of looked like you. The sound of Derek and Emily approaching made your stomach sink. Spencer had clearly picked up on your anxiety since you’d been with the BAU, but the others, not so much.

“Hey guys, what did you find out?” Emily inquired.

“Well, I’ve narrowed down the geographical profile. This area right here…” Spencer gesture to the map covering the screen “this is his comfort zone, all the abductions and dumpsites fall within this five-block radius.”

“What about you new girl?” Derek nudged you gently.

“I looked into all the victims, and they all were approximately the same height and build, same color hair and eyes. I spoke to Penelope; she confirmed that all of the women frequented the same coffee shop.” You explained.

Hotch, Rossi, and JJ all entered just in time to hear Derek confirm your thoughts…which led to a suggestion that made your heart sink.

“Y/n these girls all kind of look like you...” Derek walks over to where their pictures are pinned up to the board. “Maybe we should send you to the coffee shop undercover. It could help us find this guy.”

You heart was pounding, causing a loud whooshing sound to drown out your hearing. You closed your fists and dug your nails into your palms. You could feel the sweat breaking out along your forehead.

In and out…deep breaths. You reminded yourself of the coping strategies you’d come up with for instances like this. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…

“Absolutely not!” Hotch commanded, shaking you from your thoughts while simultaneously distracting the others from your very obvious panic attack.

“Hotch man come on! She fits the victimology perfectly; it could end this case if she could catch his attention.” Derek argued.

“It’s not up for discussion. I will not send a new agent undercover, not until she is more comfortable on this team. Undercover ops like that require a significant level of trust, one that she may not have yet.” Hotch shut Derek down.

“We know he must go to this coffee shop; JJ and I could go in and watch. Keep an eye out for a man acting suspicious.” Emily suggested.

“Good, first thing tomorrow.” Hotch said before dismissing the team for the evening.

--

“Sir, is it safe to be talking about this…with her here?”

“Are you questioning me?” Emilio sneered. “My pet is well behaved. I wouldn’t have her here if I thought otherwise. Who are you to question my decisions?” His voice raised.

“I’m sorry sir! I didn’t mean to insinuate anything. I just wasn’t sure.”

“Don’t let it happen again. Now I’ll ask again. What is the update on the shipment?” Emilio demanded.

“There are going to be three crates in the shipping container. The boat is set to anchor Friday at midnight.”

“And everything we were promised will be there?” Emilio asked.

“Well, not the girls. This shipment is just the weapons.”

“Excuse me?” Emilio’s expression turned sinister.

You were knelt by his desk like always. This conversation had been one you were banking on; it was hopefully going to allow your team to pick him and his associates up. Only, this conversation had taken a turn that you weren’t expecting. His shipments thus far had only contained drugs and weapons, so why was he asking about girls?

“I was assured that everything would be included. How fucking hard is it to follow orders?” Emilio shouted, his fist slamming onto his desk.

You sat still, silently taking in the situation. That night you’d check in with your team and fill them in on the new information. You just needed to get the logistics of when the second shipment would arrive, and honestly, you were scared Emilio would kill this guy before you got that information.

“I know boss. They told me that the girls would be here soon. There was an issue getting paperwork for some of them. But it should all be worked out now.”

“I need a date and time. By the end of the day. Otherwise, you’re done.” Emilio hissed. He then brushed his hand over your head. “C’mon pet, let’s go to bed. And you, I’ll be expecting your call.”

Going to bed with Emilio had initially been the worst part of this assignment. Thankfully he’d had you STD tested which meant you were both clean, and he’d ensured you received birth control shots. The sex had surprised you; you had expected it to be rough and painful but, it had been soft and gentle. Emilio whispered sweet nothings to you, and he held you close, and he’d carefully bathe you afterwards.

It may be sick and twisted…but it didn’t bother you, having sex with him.

--

A light knock at your door had startled you. You made your way over to check the peephole, and there he was waiting patiently.

“Hotch, is everything okay?”

“I should be asking you that. Morgan was out of line suggesting we send you in.”

“It’s okay, really. He doesn’t know any better.”

Hotch gave you a sympathetic look. You could tell he was doing everything in his power not to profile you. You appreciated his effort, and it truly was endearing. Around Hotch, you’d started to feel more comfortable around him and his consistent care of you and your mental health had been the thing that drew you in. He cared so much, and it meant the world to you.

“You seemed nervous earlier, does that have to do with the undercover assignment you worked?”

“Yes.”  You sighed.

In the last two months of being with the BAU, you and Hotch had been teetering this fine line of coworkers and more. It wasn’t necessarily leaning toward something romantic, at least that’s what you were both trying to convince yourselves of but, it had definitely become a friendship. Hotch had allowed you a safe space in which you were starting to feel like yourself again. He had never pushed you for information about your past and he continuously checked in with you to make sure you were comfortable and okay. More recently though, as things like what happened today occurred, you have felt like maybe you should tell Hotch a little more about what you endured.

“You know, if you ever want to talk about it, I am here for you. I don’t want you to feel pressured or like you have to tell me anything! But if you should choose, I’d listen.” Hotch admitted.

“I was sent in undercover to investigate Emilio Alvatorre…” You began.

“Emilio Alvatorre? He was one of FBI’s most wanted! Lucrative arms dealer, importing drugs…I heard he was ultimately brought down for sex trafficking.” Hotch was stunned.

“Yeah, that was me. Emilio took part in a certain lifestyle; he is a dominant and he was seeking a new submissive…and I guess I fit the bill. He essentially owned me, and he referred to me as his pet. It was my job to follow his orders blindly, and I did.”

“What was it like?” Hotch questioned.

“Well…

--

“Good morning pet.” Emilio purred pressing a kiss right below your ear.

“Mmm, good morning sir. Can I make you breakfast?” You offered.

“No darling, the cook will prepare our meal. I think it is sweet you still ask.” His kisses travelled down your neck.

“Do you have meetings today?” You inquired.

“Today is all about you pet. We are going to get you some new clothes, shoes, and maybe a new necklace. I want to spoil you today! We are celebrating!” Emilio gushed.

It was the moments like this that fucked with your mind the most. Emilio could be so kind and gentle, he wanted to take care of you and in the time you’d been with him, it had been increasingly easier to let him. But then there were moments when he turned dark…the other side of him came to light and you couldn’t help but question your mind.

“Boss…” Emilio’s associate barged into the office, only to find you bent over his desk while he pounded into you from behind.

“Not now!” Emilio growled.

“But boss!” This guy really couldn’t take the hint.

Emilio wasn’t one who took well to being interrupted, in any aspect of his life. So, when this associate decided what he had to say was more important than Emilio’s time…you knew it would be bad.

Emilio’s hips never faltered, not upon the initial interruption and certainly not when he leaned to the side, grabbed his gun, and shot the man standing in the doorway. You pinched your eyes shut, knowing better than to react to the horrific sight before you. Emilio continued thrusting, his grunts becoming more erratic, and when he finally finished, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

“Go run a hot bath. Get in and wait for me. I need to go see about this issue and get this cleaned up.” Emilio stated as he assisted you in standing upright.

“Yes sir.”

--

“It was really hard for me to deal with the two sides of him. I became confused and my mind was so foggy as to whether or not he was truly awful. And I know that so much of that is the manipulation of being his submissive, but I was with him for a year, it was easy to forget what things had been like before Emilio.” You trailed off.

“I can’t even imagine all the things you must’ve seen and gone through in that time. I can understand why you weren’t sure about joining the BAU initially…but I am really glad you did.” Hotch expressed, placing his hand atop your own.

“I’m glad I did too.”

--

The next morning Emily and JJ were sent into the coffee shop that all the victims frequented, and they couldn’t track the unsub. Either he was far too subtle, or he hadn’t shown up. The team was currently in the precinct trying to figure out the next steps, when Derek suggested it again.

“I still think y/n should go undercover, it’s our best bet in finding this guy. What do you say new girl?”

You were taken aback; your mind was screaming at you to decline. You weren’t ready for this, going undercover, blindly following team orders. It’s for the greater good though, isn’t it?

“I could do that.”

“Morgan, I already said it’s not happening. She isn’t ready.” Hotch commanded.

“Hotch, we have all had to go undercover. There is no reason that she can’t go into the coffee shop and order a freaking latte. We will all be there to keep her safe, just like any other case!” Morgan was practically shouting.

“It’s okay. I can do it.”

“Y/n you don’t have to do this. Not if you aren’t comfortable.” Hotch was obviously trying to profile you based on his expression.

“I’m okay. I’ll do it.”

--

You were ordering a coffee, meanwhile Spencer was sitting in the back of the café reading a book and Rossi was in line, about three patrons behind you. Hotch insisted on sitting at a table just outside the entrance to keep a close eye on everyone coming and going. JJ, Derek, and Emily were all in the surveillance van parked across the street, waiting for the signal.

After you received your coffee, you found a seat at an empty table. It wasn’t long before a man approached you. He was tall and clearly strong; he had a very sinister aura that gave you the chills.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked.

“Oh, sure.” You agreed.

The man sat, but only after he moved the chair closer to you. He was talking to you, but you were having a hard time listening. You were silently begging the guys to come to help and get him away from you.

“You know, you’re really pretty. Why don’t we get out of here? We could go get lunch.” The man suggested.

“Oh, I’m not sure I should.”

“C’mon, be a good girl and get up.” His tone became more aggressive.

You stood up without a second thought, much to the unsub’s delight. He grabbed your arm in a bruising grip and began leading you out of the café.

“They’re on the move. Why is she going with him? This wasn’t the plan.” Derek exclaimed.

Hotch’s demeanor instantly changed. After you opened up to him about your previous assignment, he understood now why you had seemingly always followed orders willingly, only your willingness had been conditioned. Instilled in you through the manipulation of a very dangerous man.

“I got it.” Hotch

Hotch stood up and turned abruptly, purposefully plowing into you and the unsub. He made a move that shifted you away from the unsub and placed himself between you.

“Oh, I am so sorry!” Hotch feigned innocence.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Watch where you’re going asshole. Let’s get out of here.” The unsub reached for your arm once more.

“She’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You want to bet?”  he said, pulling a gun from his waistband and pointing it directly at your head.

You didn’t flinch, in fact you didn’t move a muscle. All the while everyone else sprung into action. Hotch tried to talk him down while the rest of the team surrounded him on all sides. You had stood there completely disassociated while this man threatened your life and ultimately met his untimely end via Emily’s weapon.

--

“Y/n would you please come to my office?” Hotch requested.

You silently followed Hotch to his office. You were wringing your hands, hoping that he wouldn’t reprimand you for your behavior today. You couldn’t handle disappointing people.

“You didn’t even flinch. You had a gun pointed at you and you didn’t even blink. You also willingly left the café with him, which was not a part of the plan we had discussed.” Hotch stated, his tone calm.

“I’m sorry Hotch. He told me to get up and I just…I wasn’t sure what to do. I know we needed to catch the guy.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” Hotch admitted. “I don’t know what I would do if you got hurt. I also don’t want you to agree to do things simply because someone tells you to. Like agreeing to go undercover.”

“I don’t know how to do that. Disagree I mean. I’m not sure I have that in me anymore.” You did everything in your power to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“Y/n I’m not disappointed. I do think that it is very important you continue to work with your therapist.”

“I will.”

--

“…and I just stood there.”

“Y/n you we conditioned for over a year to sit still when any sort of firearm was shot, you watched people die right in front of you. You were covered in their blood and forced to remain kneeling until instructed otherwise. I can’t say I am entirely surprised that you didn’t react to having a weapon pointed at you. What does surprise me though was that you agreed to going undercover.” Sylvia finished.

“I knew it was our best option to finding this unsub. I fit the victimology, and I was able to fish him out. It was a no-brainer.” You shrugged.

“Now that sound like someone making a rational decision.” Sylvia smirked.

“Yeah well, after the case Hotch called me out and I felt like a child being scolded. I could barely hold back tears.”

“Why do you think that is?” She pressed.

“I don’t know. I guess, I’m afraid of not being good enough and worse, disappointing him.”

“The only person you should be worried about disappointing is yourself. Y/n you have made huge strides in the last five months and as long as you stay true to yourself, you will continue to do so.”

--

The months went on, as did the cases and your therapy sessions. Oddly enough, you had started to feel more like yourself. Things with the BAU have started to become easy, you were opening up little by little to the others and you were getting better at making your own decisions.

Hotch had also noticed the change. It had warmed his heart to see you really coming into your own, to really get to know the real you. Which had only strengthened his feelings toward you, causing him to work extra hard to shove them down. Rossi knew simply from the look Hotch gave you, but that’s a story for another time.

The team had been working back-to-back cases all over the country for the last few weeks. It had been exhausting and the team were getting to a point where everyone was snippy. Lack of sleep had led to a horrible lack of patience, and the local officers weren’t making matters any better.

“What if we were wrong, I think the unsub is a woman. I mean look at the attention to detail in the clean up and at how the bodies were presented.” You offered.

“Y/n could be right; a woman would take the time to be precise and it would explain the…”

Before Spencer could finish his thought, Officer Riley decided to provide his own theories.

“There is no way it is a woman. They don’t have the courage to take care of people like this. That’s why the statistic proves that the unsub is a man.”

“With all due respect, women are just as capable of murder as men, and when they do it they are often far more meticulous which is why that fits better here.” You explained.

“Well, with all due respect ma’am, I’ve been doing this job longer than you could walk.”

“Excuse me?” You couldn’t bother hiding your surprise.

“All I’m saying sweetheart, is that perhaps you’d be better off getting us some coffee.” Officer Riley sneered.

“Last time I checked, I’m the one working for the FBI and not some Podunk little police station in the middle of nowhere, Idaho. So how about you back off and let us finish our…”

“Y/N TAKE A SEAT.” Hotch demanded.

Despite your shock at Hotch’s tone toward you, you took a seat without hesitation.

“Officer Riley, please let my agents do their work. We have much more important things to be doing than arguing about the duties of a woman.” Hotch chided.

“Well, you clearly agree with me given the fact that you gave her an order. If you’d been on her side you’d have probably told me off.” Riley turned to you, “and you clearly do know how to listen to a man in charge. Perhaps I misjudged you.”

With that, Riley made his leave with a low chuckle, and you sat there considering what had just happened. Hotch had commanded you to sit down knowing full well you’d comply, that way he could deal with Riley without you continuing to tell him off. He used what he knew about you against you, despite all the conversations you’ve had with him. Despite him knowing full well your fear of blindly following orders.

“I can’t believe you.” You stood up and walked out, heading straight for the precinct exit.

“Y/n wait!” Hotch followed you.

As you landed on the sidewalk just upon the exit, Hotch’s had made its way around your upper left arm in a desperate attempt to slow you down and hear him out. Only you were in no mood to listen to him or anyone else right now. All you felt was the sense of betrayal blooming in your chest.

As he swung you back around to face him, you did something that shocked even you. You right arm followed around, landing a harsh slap to Hotch’s cheek. Your breathing was ragged, a look of surprise painting your features…a look of guilt flooding Hotch’s.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” You paused.

“No, Y/n I am so sorry I shouldn’t have-” Hotch pleaded.

“I need to go. I can’t do this. I’m sorry.” With that you left, calling a taxi, and heading back to the hotel.

--

“YOU STUPID BITCH! HOW COULD YOU?” Emilio Screamed, lunging toward you.

“Emilio I didn’t, I just…I”

Emilio wrapped his hand around your throat, harshly choking you as SWAT swarmed the shipyard. They quickly made their way to you, removing Emilio from his position over you. As they pulled him away you couldn’t help but watch him.

“Kneel Pet!” Emilio commanded.

You couldn't help but follow his order. Immediately dropping to your knees, resting your hands atop your thighs and letting your gaze fall to the ground.

“I will always own you! You will always be my pet, perfectly broken in!” Emilio hollered as they put him in the back of a vehicle.

“Y/n you’re okay, lets get you up and checked out.” Your unit commander suggested.

Only you didn’t move. You couldn’t get up, not without his permission.

That night, the paramedics had to sedate you to get you into an ambulance. And after that you were placed in a psychiatric facility for 30 days to help undo the brainwashing you’d endured.

--

“Sylvia, I slapped him. My boss, I slapped him right in the face!”

“Y/n you reacted to a situation and based on what you just explained to me, it seems like he knew he was in the wrong. You shouldn’t be blaming yourself and honestly, you should talk to him.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

“Maybe tell him how you feel.” Sylvia suggested.

--

You spent the afternoon practicing what to say to Hotch, Spencer had been texting you updates of that case as it progressed. He’d let you know that they caught the unsub and were headed back to the hotel. So, as you opened your door to make your way to his room, you came face-to-face with the man himself.

“Hotch.”  You gasped.

“Y/n can we talk?”

You moved aside to allow him access to your room. You couldn’t help but feel nervous about the conversation that was to come.

“Hotch, I am so sorry for slapping you! I was just-”

“You shouldn’t be the one apologizing. Y/n I am so sorry, I heard you going off on Riley and I knew that if you kept talking he’d report you and I’d be forced to suspend you, only I hadn’t considered the effect that me demanding you take a seat would have on you. I need you to know it was not my intention to take advantage of you like that and even worse, I shouldn’t have put my hand on you the way I did. You had every right to slap me.” Hotch explained.

“You were trying to protect me?”

“Riley had made threats of reporting our staff for going against orders of the precinct. I knew that he’d report you for your behavior, despite him clearly being in the wrong. I didn’t want to suspend you.”

“I didn’t realize. But Hotch telling me to take a seat, in the tone you did, it felt like I was right back there. Following orders without thinking. With you, I can’t explain it, I would do anything you asked me to and that terrifies me. My feelings for you only add to that need to do anything you say, to do anything to please you. I can’t help it.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Aaron! Is that all you took from what I just said?”

“Please say that again.” He whispered.

“Aaron.”

He let his eyes close and took a deep breath. You could tell he was holding back and though part of you was begging you to walk away, the other was telling you to jump in. You thought about what Sylvia would say, and you couldn’t help but release a breathy laugh, knowing full well that she would tell you that only you can make the right decision, and it is okay to trust yourself.

“Aaron, I am terrified…and it is going to take me some time to fully trust myself again, but I really like you and if you’re up for it, I’d like to give this a shot. Unless you don’t feel the same way, then please ignore what I just said an-”

Aaron pulled you in and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss. One that told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m scared too, but I want to try this Y/n. I know that you’re still working to find yourself, I am willing to wait if that is what you need, but I am also willing to be by your side every step of the way.”

“I don’t want to wait.”

[slaymybreathaway]

Captain T.B.D (Charlie Conway x Reader)

Warnings: just teenage hormones

Word Count: 435

Main Masterlist Mighty Ducks Masterlist

Coach Orion had just stormed out of the locker room. He just gave us a speech about 'getting higher than a C' and 'clearing out of the locker room in 15 minutes'. I could tell that my boyfriend Charlie was getting more pissed off by the second.

"Hey look, coach posted our positions," Connie said and pointed at the newly-added page to the bulletin board.

After watching an outraged Goldberg be very dramatic about being benched, Dwane pointed something out.

"It says Captain: T.B.D, who's tbd?" he asked.

"It means 'to be determined'" Julie said and the whole team turned to look at Charlie.

♡

Forty five minutes later I was lying on Charlie's bed with my Physics book. He was quiet the whole walk to his apartment. Charlie was in the shower so I was getting a headstart on my homework.

Then the shower stopped and a couple minutes later, Charlie stormed in. He has a pair of black sweatpants on, with no shirt, a towel around his neck and wet hair.

"He cant change the captain! I've been captain for four years! What's his problem anyway? He can't- y/n? Hey are you listening to me?" He asked.

I was not, in fact listening to him. Instead I was staring at his muscular stomach and fighting the urge to kiss him but let's pretend that I was listening.

I looked up at Charlie's face "uhh yeah, I'm listening. You hate Coach's guts and it's fucking outrageous that he's even considering replacing you as captain." Lucky guess?

He walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed, he threw a t-shirt on. Which, I'm not going to lie, I was a little bit disappointed about.

"It's just," he sighs "with that shitty school and the new coach not cutting us any slack, I really don't need that right now." He had his head in my lap at this point and I was playing with his hair.

"I know, I know honey. But getting mad at the coach isn't gonna help that. And hey, it said 'To be determined' and not 'any one but Charlie is getting chosen' so you might get your C back," this made him laugh.

"I love you darling," He sits up and kisses me.

"IloveyoutoobutIwouldloveyoumoreifyoutookyourshirtoff," I mumbled against his lips.

He chuckles and takes his shirt off. I press my lips to his and I passionately kissed him for a solid 5 minutes. Only pulling away to breath and make him do some homework so he doesn't get kicked off the team.

[adrienneleclerc]

Do you think you can do a Carlos sainz jr imagine

Well YN is MMA fighter and I don't know they meet at one of her fights or at the gym however you want to put it I guess so yeah and I was the one who requested the Lewis Hamilton photographer one and I really liked that imagine in this very good so thank you very much xoxo 🇲🇽🫶🥰😘

Let’s see what I can do and I’m so glad you liked how the Lewis Hamilton imagine came out! I was a little worried there for a second

Love At First Fight

Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x MMA fighter! Reader

Summary: Carlos meets Y/N at the gym and end up sparring together

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors

A/N: I have the idea in my mind, I can see it happening, can I put it into words? Let’s see. Also, sorry if it’s too short but I think it turned out cute for the prompt. Anyway, MY FIRST CARLOS SAINZ IMAGINE

Now that is is summer break and Carlos has announced he was going to Williams, he decided to go boxing with his trainer at the gym.

“Hola Carlos, ready to begin your session?” His trainer, Emilio asked.

“Of course, let’s get started, cabrón.” Carlos said. Him and Emiliowere doing some basic punching combos, Carlos was practicing his footwork, when he saw a woman walk in and immediately started using a punching bag. Since carlos was distracted, Emilio hit him upside the head.

“Focus, man, i thought you wanted to box today.” Emilio said.

“I do but who is that?” Carlos asked.

“You’re kidding.” The trainer said looking at the woman and back at Carlos. “I think it’s better if you stick to dating models.”

“Her name, cabrón.” Carlos said,

“Her name is Y/N L/N, she is an MMA fighter, she’s the UFC Featherweight champion for 2023.” Emilio said.

“You think I can spar with her?” Carlos asked.

“Ha! I’d like to see you try. L/N!” Emilio shouted, Y/N turned around.

“Gutiérrez, you know better than to shift my name in a public gym, what’s up.” Y/N said, walking towards the two men, taking off her gloves.

“My client here wants to spar with you.” Emilio said.

“Carlos Sainz, nice to meet you.” Carlos said, extending his hand, Y/N shook his hand.

“Think you can go toe to toe with me, pretty boy?” Y/N asked, stepping closer to Carlos so their noses were almost touching.

“Why not? I’ll give you the first shot.” Carlos said, Y/N stepped back, releasing his hand.

“Haha, okay, You’re confident, let’s see how confident you are in the ring.” Y/N said, walking toward the boxing ring they had further into the gym. Carlos was in shock but Emilio pushed him to start walking, Y/N was already inside the ring.

“Alright, I got these two helmets because Y/N would probably kill you since you suck at blocking.” Emilio told Carlos and Y/N snickered. “Y/N blue, you red.” They put on their helmets and Y/N put in her mouth guard. Emilio helped Y/N and Carlos lace up their gloves. “Great, touch gloves, and spar.

Carlos severely underestimated how it would be like to spar Y/N. You know how people feel pretty stupid one they find out Formula 1 is a serious sport and that driving a kart at 300 kilometers an hour isn’t easy? Carlos is feeling really stupid for wanting to spar with a UFC featherweight champion when he only boxes every other week (probably). Y/N was obviously winning, at one point, Y/N was straddling Carlos and had his wrists pinned to the mat until Emilio called time. Carlos winked at Y/N before she got off him and helped him up.

“Gotta hand it to you, pretty boy, you did pretty well for an F1 driver.” Y/N said.

“You know who I am?” Carlos asked.

“Well i obviously had to google you after meeting you since you’re Emilio’s client.” Y/N said,

“Well since I already had you on top of me..” Carlos started and Y/N laughed “..do you want to get lunch right now? I’ll pay.”

“That sounds great, I’ll shower and change so we can go.” Y/N said,

The End

Hope y’all liked it!

[filmfanaticsblog]

The Greasers dating HCs

Darry Curtis

• Will talk about the most random shit ever with you

• Any money that isn’t to the gang or himself goes to fancy dates and gifts for you

• Very protective (but makes sure you have enough space and don’t feel trapped)

• Gives you massages when you’re stressed / sore

• Always rants about soda and pony and about how proud he is of them

Sodapop Curtis

• Brings you chocolate cake and coke everytime he goes over to your house

• Braids your hair when he’s bored (you taught him)

• He immediately does anything you ask the moment you ask him

• Constantly hugs you from behind

• Steve is always third-wheeling you (although it feels like you’re third-wheeling them cuz they act so gay)

Ponyboy Curtis

• Got dressed up all nice first time he met your parents

• Reads to you so you can fall asleep

• Regularly takes you to the diner to share a milkshake

• Kisses your cheek ALL. THE. TIME.

• Hums Elvis songs to put you to sleep

Johnny Cade

• He was so shy and nervous the first time you guys met

• Falls asleep in the lot with you

• Lets Ponyboy third-wheel you guys (again, you feel like the third wheel because they’re also so gay)

• Makes bracelets with you

• Kisses the back of your hands

Dallas Winston

• Kind of an asshole tbh

• Has a soft spot for you

• Is NEVER the one to say “sorry” first in an argument even if he’s wrong and knows it

• Isn’t into PDA, but is very sweet and affectionate behind closed doors when he feels like it

• Acts like he hates it when you play with his hair (he actually loves the way it feels)

Two-Bit Matthews

• You’re the only one who’s aloud to call him “Keith”

• Steals things for you

• Holds your hand under tables (goals)

• Secretly likes the beatles

• Is nothing but sweet to you

Steve Randle

• Shows you off to the gang

• Always supportive of everything you do

• Kisses you whenever and wherever he wants to

• Lets Soda third-wheel your dates (AGAIN, seems like you’re the third-wheel blah blah already said it twice)

• Holds you by your waist when you hug