#I don’t care if they’re not ready (my family that is) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

vunblr · 28 days ago

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The Weight of Choices

Pairing: Ex-husband!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex, dirty talk, slight dom! Bucky. A little angst.

Summary: Torn between his instinct to protect his family and his desire to be a part of their lives, Bucky tries to deal with the reality of his ex-wife going on a date while he stays home caring for their son.

Word Count: About 8.9k.

He was late. If Y/n didn’t know better, she’d think he was doing it on purpose. Bucky had agreed to watch their son tonight so she could go on a date, the third one since their divorce two years ago. The last couple of times, she’d managed to find a friend to babysit, but Saturday nights were always tough. So in the end, she had no choice but to come clean and ask Bucky.

She could still hear his voice from that awkward phone call, his tone edged with surprise when she’d told him she had plans.

“A date?” he repeated, the edge of disbelief hard to miss.

"Yeah," she’d replied casually, but Bucky’s silence lingered longer than usual. He hated texting, so phone calls had become their norm, even for the smallest of things.

“With who?” His attempt to sound nonchalant fell flat, the tension threading through every word.

“Chris,” she said, keeping her tone light, “You know, the music teacher at the kindergarten where I work? Blonde, easy smile... we walked past him once when he was out with his dog, Dodger.”

Bucky scoffed, the bitterness in his voice unmistakable. “I knew it. I knew he had a thing for you.”

She rolled her eyes, exasperated. “Oh, please.”

“Every time I’d drop by the kindergarten, he’d just… linger. His eyes followed you the whole time like he couldn’t look away. People don’t stare like that unless they’re thinking something. And the way he’d smile, all soft and attentive, he was trying too hard to be just a ‘friendly co-worker.” His voice had dropped a notch, irritation creeping in.

“Are you serious?” she shot back, incredulous. But Bucky wasn’t done.

“How long’s this been going on?” The question came out more like an accusation.

“It’s our first date. You know I only recently started dating again,” she replied, her patience wearing thin.

He paused, clearly unsatisfied. “So what, he’s just been waiting for his chance, ready to pounce-”

“I’m going to stop you right there, James,” she interrupted, her tone firm. “You’re not entitled to know anything about my love life the moment you decided you wanted the divorce.”

There was an uncomfortable silence on the line. She could hear him breathing, the tension stretching between them, until finally, he sighed.

“You’re right,” he admitted quietly. “I’m sorry, that was out of line. I’ll take care of Benjamin on Saturday night.”

The recall of the conversation was interrupted by Ben, who wanted to show her what he did with his Legos.

Bucky had been sitting in front of the house for half an hour now. Sometimes, like tonight, he regretted what he’d done, but deep down, he knew it had been necessary. After the terrifying incident when Hydra agents attempted to kidnap their son, hoping to test if any of the serum’s powers had been passed down genetically, he realized that his past would eventually catch up with them. He had to make sure they were safe, even if it meant tearing apart everything they’d built.

He knew she wouldn’t understand if he told her the truth. If he had laid out his fears and his guilt and spiraled into a self-deprecating parade like he always did, she would have fought him and convinced him to stay. So he waited.

He knew the only way to make her believe it, was to weave in just enough truth to his argument, so, slowly he began pulling away, setting the stage for what would be his ultimate break. Late nights, distant conversations, an almost non-existent sexual life and missed moments with their son, all led to this. He needed her to see that the life they had wasn’t something he could carry anymore.

When the moment came, he didn’t hesitate. He told her he felt suffocated by their life together. That the roles of husband and father were more than he could bear after everything he had been through. She didn’t believe him at first, and he could see the determination in her eyes, the will to fight for what they had.

So, he played the card he knew would make her stop fighting him. He spoke of the years he’d spent as a puppet, how he had never truly known freedom, never had control over his life. He appreciated everything she had done for him, all the love and support she had given, but it wasn’t enough. He needed air, space to figure out who he was beyond the roles he had been forced into. He made it sound like staying with her, staying in the family they’d built, was just another form of captivity.

It crushed her. Bucky could see the moment her resistance faded. She believed him, not because she wanted to, but because he made it seem so real. So she stood there, heartbroken, but unable to argue against the logic he’d presented.

The first months after the divorce were hard on both parts. For her, that time was the hardest, filled with sleepless nights and the nagging feeling that Bucky had simply abandoned her, walked away from their life, their love, without a second thought. She wrestled with the confusion and the heartbreak, trying to piece together where things had gone wrong. For Bucky, it was a different kind of suffering. He bore the weight of his decision in silence, knowing he had walked away to protect them, but that didn’t ease the sting of loneliness or the guilt that gnawed at him.

Their lives moved on separately. They saw each other only in passing, and even that was rare. Bucky would pick up Benjamin directly from daycare once a week, dropping him off the next morning before heading back to his life, careful to avoid lingering long enough for awkward conversations. Sometimes he didn’t make it at all, missing his time with his son when missions pulled him away. Immersing himself in his work was easier than facing what he had left behind, the family he still wanted but couldn’t allow himself to have. Meanwhile, she did her best to create some normalcy for Benjamin, even as the space Bucky left behind echoed through their small home.

Even though their lives had drifted apart, Bucky never truly let go. He kept his distance, but never far enough to lose sight of them. Unbeknownst to her, he knew everything that went on in the household, the daily rhythms of their life, the way she struggled and adapted to her new normal without him. From the shadows, Bucky lurked unnoticed in the neighborhood, always keeping an eye on them. She never noticed, never had a clue that even when he was away on missions, he somehow knew when Benjamin caught a cold or when she had a rough day at work.

It was a secret vigil that gave him a twisted sense of comfort, knowing they were safe even if they no longer shared the same home. He would catch fleeting glimpses of her tucking their son into bed or hear his faint laughter playing in the yard. It was enough to remind him of what he’d lost, but not enough to bring him back to the life he believed he couldn’t have.

That was why Bucky was caught off guard when she mentioned her date with that guy, the music teacher. He never saw that coming. He had always known the man had a soft spot for her, could see it in the way he acted whenever she was around, how he lingered a little longer during pick-ups at the kindergarten, helping to manage the children even if it wasn’t his job, always with an excuse to retain her and talk. His body language was an open book. But back then, Bucky had dismissed him as harmless, barely giving him a second thought. To him, Chris had always been like a friendly Labrador: approachable, with no bite. A non-threat.

But now, that harmless Labrador had grown fangs. The guy wasn’t just hanging around the edges anymore; he was stepping in, taking her to dinner, moving into a space Bucky had once occupied. And he had no choice but to suck it up and watch it happen, watch her walk out the door with him. He could handle the distance, the brief moments of tension when they had to interact, but this? The idea of Chris sitting across from her at a candlelit table, making her laugh, holding her gaze... it twisted his guts.

And God knows what else would happen after dinner. Would Chris try to kiss her goodnight? Would she let him? Or worse, would they end up back at his place? His mind ran wild with the possibility of them taking things further, crossing a line he never wanted to imagine. Would she let him touch her in ways Bucky used to, let him see sides of her only he had known? He knew he had no right to feel this way, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from torturing him.

Eventually, he glanced at the clock and sighed, raking a hand through his hair. There was no point in torturing himself any further, he couldn’t postpone the inevitable any longer.

Reaching the front porch, Bucky hesitated for a moment. He straightened his posture adjusting his clothes, then knocked on the door. As he waited, he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, trying to shake off the tension.

When the door finally swung open, for a split second, neither of them spoke. Her eyes widened just a little, her lips parting as she took him in. It had been a long time since she’d seen him. His hair had grown back to shoulder length, a few strands falling loose across his forehead. A three-day stubble sharpened his jawline, in a way that made him look rugged and effortlessly handsome. And was he wearing that shirt? The red and black lumberjack one that used to drive her wild?

Bucky caught her reaction and hit him like a shot of adrenaline. When he exited the bathroom that night and picked what to wear, he told himself it was just practical, something comfortable to wear while watching and playing with Ben. The cologne? Just a habit. But deep down, a part of him knew the truth: he wanted her to notice, and that split-second when her eyes widened, scanning him from head to toe, told him everything. She noticed. She definitely noticed. And something about that felt like a victory, even though he wasn’t supposed to be playing that game anymore.

He stared at her longer than necessary, his blue gaze drifting over the black dress she wore. New, he realized. It hugged her body in all the right places, accentuating her curves in a way that was impossible to ignore. The hemline? Too short for his liking. He clenched his jaw slightly, knowing full well Chris would be thrilled to see her like this.

Forcing himself to snap out of it, Bucky cleared his throat and broke the silence. “Hey,” he said, his voice low and calm, though the tension still simmered beneath the surface. “You look... good.” He meant it, but the words tasted bitter.

"Thanks," she said, her tone polite but distant, deliberately choosing not to compliment him back. She lingered for a moment, then added, “You’re late.”

Bucky flinched inwardly at the remark, though he kept his expression neutral. "Traffic," he muttered, stepping inside as she moved aside to let him in. An awkward silence settled between them, the air thick with things left unsaid.

Her fingers toyed with the edge of her dress as she cleared her throat, trying to fill the silence. “Ben is in the bathroom,” she said, her voice casual, but there was a tension beneath it. “You can wait for him in the living room.”

“Right,” Bucky replied, nodding stiffly. He walked past her and into the living room, the space feeling both familiar and foreign at the same time. He took a seat, trying to shake off the strange energy between them, but his mind kept wandering back to the fact that she was dressed for someone else.

A moment later, the doorbell rang, and she turned toward the sound, visibly relieved. She opened the door, and Bucky heard Chris’s voice, a cheerful greeting that she surely responded to with a soft, warm smile. Bucky didn’t need to see it, her tone was different with him, softer, more open.

“Hey,” Chris said, his voice bright, though there was a subtle shift when he paused. There was a beat of silence before he added, “You look amazing.”

Bucky couldn’t help it. Something pulled him from the couch, and before he knew it, he was standing in the hall, watching the interaction from a few feet away. His eyes narrowed as he observed Chris, sizing him up instinctively. Chris was taller than he remembered, clean-cut in a casual but neat button-down shirt, his easy smile faltering just a fraction when his eyes darted past her, catching sight of Bucky standing there.

Chris’s brows furrowed, but he quickly masked his reaction, giving Bucky a curt nod. “Uh, hey,” he greeted awkwardly, glancing between them.

It was her turn to narrow her eyes. Glancing back over her shoulder, she saw him. Bucky stood at the edge of the hallway, staring directly at Chris, his expression unreadable. His eyes locked onto the man without blinking. He wasn’t moving, wasn’t saying anything, just staring.

Inwardly, she rolled her eyes. Really? A display of male dominance, here and now? After everything he’d put her through, the mess he’d made of their lives, he suddenly decided he had the right to act territorial? What exactly did he think he was entitled to? The nerve of it sent a wave of irritation through her, tightening her grip on her coat.

But what frustrated her even more -what really troubled her- was that a part of her didn’t mind. Beneath her annoyance, something stirred, deep and undeniable, lurking just beneath the surface. She hated to admit it, even to herself, but his presence still had a hold on her. Maybe it didn’t bother her as much as she wanted to believe. Maybe, despite everything, there was still a part of her that reacted to him, to the way he watched her, the way he used to make her feel like the center of his world.

Before those feelings could rise any further, before she could let herself dwell on what they meant, she quickly turned back to Chris. She forced a bright smile, pushing away the conflicted thoughts swirling in her mind.

“We should get going,” she said, her voice light, pretending not to notice the tension still hanging in the air. She stepped closer to Chris, signaling it was time to leave, hoping to put some distance between her and the weight of Bucky’s gaze.

As the door clicked shut behind them, Bucky stood frozen in place for a moment, the tension that had gripped him not easing, even with their absence. The quiet of the house felt heavier now, pressing down on him. His chest tightened as he stared at the closed door, half-expecting her to walk back in. Of course, she didn’t.

His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he replayed the scene in his head: her standing there, beautiful and confident, and Chris… that guy was so normal, so easygoing. Exactly what she deserved. Exactly what Bucky could never be. He raked a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling to the surface. What was he even doing? He had no right, he was the one who walked away. He was the one who made her believe she wasn’t enough to keep him, that he wanted out. And now, here he was, silently raging because she was moving on, exactly like he supposedly wanted.

Stupid. That was the only word he could come up with to describe how he felt. Stupid for showing up looking the way he did, stupid for thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could still affect her. But what for? His job was to protect her and their son from the shadows, not to stand in the doorway, playing the part of some jealous lover. But God, it hurt more than he expected.

He crossed the living room, his steps heavy against the floor, and slumped into the couch. The house was eerily quiet, save for the faint sound of the TV in the background. Ben was still in the bathroom, probably playing with the liquid soap and making a mess, unaware of the tangled web of emotions his father was caught in.

The hours slipped by, though Bucky barely noticed at first. Benjamin was beyond excited to have his dad all to himself for the evening. They played, joked, and built elaborate lego fortresses, the boy’s laughter filling the house with a warmth Bucky hadn’t realized he missed so much. For a little while, he was able to shove everything else to the back of his mind. Being a dad, just a dad, felt like a relief. But every now and then, his gaze would drift to the clock on the wall. He couldn’t help it. As much as he tried to stay in the moment with his son, there was a lingering pull, a constant, nagging thought of where she was.

After he’d put Ben to bed, Bucky’s mind wandered back to the date. The image of her in that black dress haunted him, the way Chris had looked at her, the possibility of what might have happened after dinner. His thoughts spiraled, even though he knew it was none of his business anymore. He poured himself a scotch, the amber liquid swirling in his glass as he tried -and failed- to push the thoughts aside.

Eventually, the sound of the front door opening cut through the quiet. The familiar click of her shoes against the entryway tile echoed through the house, sharp and distinct. She was home.

Bucky didn’t move. He stayed where he was, seated at the old teakwood table, nursing his scotch. The only light on in the house was the dim glow above the kitchen, so she’d find him.

The sound of her footsteps grew closer, and he listened intently, his heart beating just a little faster despite his best efforts to keep calm.

She entered the kitchen, her steps a little less steady than usual, mumbling a soft “Hi” as she made her way inside. Bucky glanced up, immediately sensing that she was a little tipsy. She didn’t meet his eyes, just plopped down in the chair next to him with a tired sigh. “God, my feet are killing me,” she muttered, kicking off her heels and wincing.

For a while, the silence stretched between them, broken only by the distant hum of the fridge. She sighed absentmindedly, then reached for his glass of scotch, taking a sip without asking. He was taken aback by the casual intimacy of the gesture, but he said nothing, just watched her as she leaned back in her chair.

Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out. “Want me to rub your feet?” He froze. He couldn’t believe he’d said it, half-expecting her to snap at him or give him one of her sharp retorts.

But instead, she surprised him. She looked over at him, her eyes tired but soft, and then shrugged. “Yeah...” she said, her voice a little more relaxed than he expected.

Bucky blinked, caught off guard by her response. His heart thudded against his ribcage as he moved toward her, kneeling down in front of her chair. His fingers hovered hesitantly over her ankle before gently wrapping around it, lifting her foot onto his knee.

As he began to knead his thumbs into her sore muscles, the tension that had been brewing in him all night seemed to ease, just a little. Her head lolled back against the chair, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, touching her again in this way, after everything. He shouldn’t, but she didn’t seem to mind. If anything, she seemed to relax more as the seconds passed, letting her guard down in a way that felt dangerously familiar.

“So... how was the date?” Bucky’s voice was quiet, almost too casual as he broke the silence.

Her eyes fluttered open at the question, and for a moment, he thought she might brush him off or remind him that it wasn’t his business. But instead, she gave a small shrug, her tone indifferent. “It was fine.”

Bucky frowned slightly, pressing his thumbs a little harder into the arch of her foot. He wasn’t sure if it was frustration or something else pushing his hands. “Fine?” he echoed, trying to keep his voice even.

“Yeah,” she murmured, closing her eyes. Her voice was soft, almost distracted. “Just... fine.”

He wasn’t satisfied with that. He couldn’t help himself, he pressed, his tone still light but with a thread of tension beneath it. “Only... fine?”

She sighed, her eyes still closed as if trying to keep the conversation from getting deeper. “What do you want me to say, Bucky?” Her voice wasn’t sharp, but there was a subtle edge in her words. “That it was amazing? That he swept me off my feet? Some dirty little details?”

Bucky’s fingers stilled for a moment, resting against her foot as he met her gaze. He didn’t respond right away, unsure if he even wanted to hear the truth, whatever it might be. “I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, his voice a little more vulnerable than he intended.

“It was just fine, nothing more, nothing less”

A silence settled between them, but he wasn’t ready to let it drop. “Are you going to see each other again outside work?” he ventured, his hands slowly moving up her shin, his touch hesitant but growing bolder. The fact that she didn’t push him away emboldened him further. “Did you enjoy yourself?”

Bucky’s hands continued their slow ascent, fingers brushing over her calf and then her knee, his touch firm but careful. When she didn’t pull away, he felt his pulse quicken. The silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of things unsaid.

“In a way,” she finally answered, her voice elusive, a touch distant. She shifted slightly in her chair, subtly parting her thighs as his hands wandered higher. The movement was small, but enough for him to catch it. His breath hitched, and his gaze flicked down to her legs before rising back up to her face, darkening with lust.

"Care to... elaborate?" he pressed again, his voice lower now, rougher. His fingers slid up to her inner thigh, lingering there with a possessive grip as if testing her reaction. Her legs instinctively spread wider beneath his touch, and that simple motion sent a rush of heat through him.

She shifted slightly, as if searching for the right words. "He’s... nice," she finally said, her voice a bit breathless under his touch. "He’s thoughtful, considerate, makes me laugh…” Her lips twitched in a small smile, but it quickly faded as she looked down at his hand resting on her thigh. “He’s... good.”

Bucky’s thumb paused, pressing a little harder, as he leaned in closer, his voice barely above a murmur. “…And?”

She sighed, her eyes opening again to meet his intense gaze. “And… he’s not you.”

His grip on her thigh tightened involuntarily, his breath catching in his throat. He’d pushed her away, done everything he could to sever the ties between them, convinced himself it was for her protection. But now, hearing her admit that, it sent his head spinning.

“He’s not you.”

The room seemed smaller, the air heavier, as the tension between them crackled like electricity. His hand inched higher, dangerously close to where he could feel the heat radiating off her body. Every instinct in him screamed to close the distance, to take what he wanted, to forget everything that had led them to this point. But he forced himself to stop, his gaze locking onto hers, searching her face for any sign that she would tell him to stop.

She didn’t. Instead, she held his gaze, her breathing shallow as if waiting to see what he would do next.

Bucky’s grip tightened again. Fuck it. He leaned forward, pressing his face against her other inner thigh, his stubble grazing her skin as he inhaled her scent deeply, a growl rumbling in his chest. She tensed, feeling him nip gently at her sensitive flesh, and then a slow, deliberate lick followed, sending a shiver through her.

"Did he behave, or..." he paused, his tongue teasing the same spot before he looked up at her, his lips brushing her thigh as he continued, "...things got handsy?"

A gasp escaped her when she felt his mouth so dangerously close to where she wanted it most. Her head tilted back just slightly, her body betraying her as desire pooled in her belly. His eyes flicked up, meeting hers, their blue depths darkened with lust, and something more. His lips remained pressed against her skin, refusing to budge until he had his answer.

"You let him touch you?" His voice was a husky whisper, laced with jealousy.

She exhaled slowly, her breath shaky as the memory flickered through her mind. "Yes," she admitted, her voice low, reluctant. "But just briefly, when we ki—"

Before she could finish, Bucky’s hand shifted, moving up to cup her mound, his fingers pressing firmly against the damp fabric of her underwear. Her words died in her throat, a sharp intake of breath replacing them as his touch ignited a fire that spread through her veins. His hand was deliberate, unapologetic in the way it claimed her, the heel of his palm pressing against her pussy as if he had every right to be there.

"And then?" His question hung in the air, but she couldn’t find the words immediately.

Her lips parted as she finally spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I wanted to feel something... but I didn’t. I just didn’t."

Her confession landed between them like a spark to dry wood, setting the tension ablaze. Bucky’s hand remained where it was, but his thumb stroked over the wet fabric, teasing her, testing her resolve as his gaze bore into hers. She had said what he needed to hear, what he craved to know, and now, there was no turning back.

Bucky’s thumb slid the fabric of her underwear aside, his fingers unhesitating as they slipped between her folds, finding her slick with need. He brushed upward, just barely grazing her clit, watching with dark, heavy-lidded eyes as she gasped at the contact. Her body arched involuntarily, but he didn’t relent, keeping his movements slow and deliberate, teasing her just enough to drive her crazy but not enough to give her what she craved.

“And…” his voice was low, rasping against the tension between them, “how long did it take you to realize you’d had enough? That it wasn’t going to work?”

His thumb circled lazily, making her hips shift forward, chasing the friction he barely offered. The question hung in the air, laced with his possessiveness, through every word. He didn’t wait for an answer, his fingers delving deeper inside her, coating themselves in her arousal before they moved back up, brushing over her clit again, this time with more pressure.

"One kiss?" His lips curled in a half-smirk as he watched her face contort with pleasure. He dipped his fingers inside her again, slow, dragging them out just as leisurely. "Two?"

She trembled, unable to form a coherent response, the sensation of his touch overwhelming her senses after so long. Her breath hitched as his fingers increased their pace, every stroke purposeful, designed to unravel her. Bucky leaned upward, his lips brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured, “How long, doll?” The way he said it, like a dare, made her heart race even faster.

Her head fell back, her body betraying any attempt at control as she whispered breathlessly, “One…”

A satisfied growl rumbled from him, his fingers rewarding her honesty with a firmer stroke, sending her spiraling closer to the edge.

It wasn’t fair. He had cast her aside, almost without looking back, tearing her world apart with his cold departure. And now here she was, grinding her pussy against his fingers like some desperate, needy whore, begging for more. A part of her wanted to slap him, to shove him away and scream at him for every sleepless night she spent wondering why she wasn’t enough, why he had thrown their life away so easily. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him for walking out on them.

But then, there was that traitorous side of her. The part that had never stopped hoping. The part that had always waited, held out some foolish, silent hope that he’d come back. That she’d see that flicker of warmth in his eyes again, the one that told her she was his entire world. And it wasn’t just her heart that longed for him, her body had missed him, too. She hated herself for it. For still thinking about him late at night when she touched herself, fingers slipping between her thighs as his name slipped from her lips in the darkness.

And that same traitorous side of her had ruined her date with Chris. She’d tried to be present, to laugh, to be charmed by his warm smile and thoughtful gestures. But all night, all she could think about was Bucky.

The way he’d looked at him, cold and assessing, as if he didn’t belong there, his presence filling the hallway like he still had some claim to it, to her. What was he trying to prove, anyway? That he was still the man of the house?

She hated how, even while Chris was talking, her mind drifted back to the feeling of Bucky’s fingers tracing his stupid shirt, her memory filling in the rough, familiar feel of his hands on her skin. And she knew, even if she couldn’t admit it aloud, that some part of her had wanted him to see her dressed up, to feel in some small way the longing and ache she’d carried in his absence.

And maybe that’s why she’d felt nothing when Chris had leaned in for a kiss, why his gentle smile and soft touches had felt hollow. Even his laugh, light and kind, hadn’t stirred her because it wasn't Bucky’s rough, rumbling chuckle or his stupidly confident grin. Bucky, in all his infuriating ways, still occupied every corner of her mind.

Her breath came in shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as his fingers worked her closer to the edge. She wanted to be angry, to let that rage consume her, but every time she opened her mouth to say something hurtful, to lash out at him, her body betrayed her. Every roll of her hips against his hand, every needy whimper that slipped from her throat, reminded her of just how much she had missed this.

It wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t stop.

With a light pinch on her swollen clit, the tension snapped, and she came hard on his fingers. Her mouth fell open, a moan escaping as her body convulsed, riding the wave of pleasure that coursed through her. The world blurred around her as her climax took over, her hips grinding against his hand, chasing every last second of the release.

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, a mix of the overwhelming pleasure and the emotional storm swirling inside her. A few finally escaped, rolling silently down her cheeks, but before she could turn away, Bucky was there, his lips brushing them away with surprising tenderness. His breath ghosted over her skin as he whispered soft, comforting words she could barely make out, something about how beautiful she was, how good she had been for him, as if they hadn’t been tangled up in all this pain and heartache.

His touch was almost reverent as he slowly withdrew his fingers, slick and glistening from her release. Their gazes met, and he didn’t break eye contact as he brought those same fingers to his mouth, licking them clean with deliberate, agonizing slowness. He stood up in one fluid motion, effortlessly lifting her from the chair by the waist as if she weighed nothing, and in a swift, controlled movement, he placed her on top of the table, positioning himself between her legs.

Before she could even process it, his arms were around her, pulling her into a bear hug that was both tight and needy. His face buried itself in the crook of her neck, his breath warm against her skin as he inhaled deeply, taking her in.

He held her as if letting go was not an option, his grip firm yet strangely vulnerable. The way he clung to her felt like both a claim and an apology, urgent -almost broken- like he was holding onto her not just physically, but emotionally, too.

“Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll leave,” he murmured against her skin, his voice rough and low, the words vibrating against her neck. He didn’t dare look at her, not yet, because if he did, if he saw doubt or rejection in her eyes, it would break him.

Silence stretched between them, thick and heavy. Each second felt like an eternity. His breath was uneven, ragged, as he waited for her to say something, anything. Another moment passed, tension coiling tighter in his chest until he couldn’t stand it anymore. He lifted his head, his gaze searching hers, bracing himself for the worst. But instead of the words that would send him away, he saw her eyes flicker downward to his lips. It was brief, a split-second decision, but it was enough.

So he leaned in, cautiously at first, like he was testing the waters after years of distance. His lips brushed against hers softly, almost hesitant, as if afraid this fragile moment would break apart. But the second she responded, it was like a dam broke. His hands cradled her face, deepening the kiss with desperation. It was messy, all-consuming, there was no gentleness, no tenderness. This was not the careful, delicate dance of two people testing the waters. This was hunger, a ravenous need to reclaim what had been lost. His lips moved down to her jaw, her neck, leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses, and she moaned softly, her fingers tightening in his hair as he sucked on the sensitive skin below her ear.

His hands gripped her waist, strong and possessive, pulling her closer until her body was flush against his. The need to feel her, to claim her, was overwhelming. It was like two years of silence, longing, and frustration had ignited in an instant, everything that had been pushed down now surging forward, unstoppable.

“I’ll ask you again, babydoll. Are you sure you want this?” Bucky’s voice was thick with restraint, the tension in his muscles barely contained as he hovered over her, his breath hot against her neck. He was giving her one last chance to stop this, to pull away, even though every fiber of his being was screaming for her. But instead of words, her answer was a quiet, deliberate motion. Her hand slid between them, deftly unbuttoning his jeans, her fingers brushing against the outline of his erection.

A low growl escaped him, and his hand shot down to catch her wrist, halting her movements. His gaze met hers, dark and intense, his chest heaving with barely restrained desire. “I need you to say it,” he murmured, voice rough, on the edge of control.

“Yes,” she whispered.

That was all he needed.

Without hesitation, he pulled his shirt over his head in one swift motion, not bothering with the buttons, his muscles flexing as the fabric slid off. The moment his skin was free, he didn’t give himself time to think. His eyes locked on hers as he grabbed the neckline of her dress. With a sharp tug, the fabric tore easily under his grip, the sound of it ripping filling the air. The dress fell to her waist, exposing her bare breasts to his gaze.

“Hey! It was brand new, you know?” she protested.

“I noticed,” he replied, his fingers grazing the tattered edge of her dress. “But you didn’t buy it to wear it for me, did you?” His voice dropped, thick with jealousy as he alluded to her date with Chris. He dipped his head, his lips hovering just above her exposed skin, his breath warm against her chest. “I don’t want it on you”. He latched his lips onto her nipple, his tongue swirling with a hungry need, while his vibranium fingers pinched and teased her other breast. His breath was hot against her chest as he whispered between kisses, “You have no idea how much I’ve missed this... missed you.” His words came out rough, full of longing that he couldn’t hold back any longer. “Every night... thinking about touching you again. Tasting you. Making you come over my cock.”

Her body responded, arching into him. She bit her lip, trying to stifle a moan, afraid that maybe Ben could hear her, but it slipped out anyway.

His hands moved to her thighs, gripping them firmly as he let out a low growl. “I thought about this, over and over... how you’d feel under me, how you’d sound when I made you scream my name again.” His voice was thick, hoarse, as he tugged at her dress, tearing the fabric completely until it was nothing but rags on the floor. He didn’t stop there, his thumbs slipping under the waistband of her flimsy panties. With a swift tug, the seams gave way, tearing effortlessly in his hands. He brought the soaked cloth to his nose, inhaling deeply, groaning as if the scent alone was enough to drive him insane. “God, I’ve missed this,” he muttered, his eyes never leaving hers. He flicked his tongue against the ruined cloth, savoring the taste with a low, hungry growl.

Without warning, he tossed the panties aside. His hands moved quickly, unbuttoning what remained of his jeans and kicking off his shoes before sliding the denim and underwear down in one fluid motion. They hit the floor with a soft thud as he stepped toward her. “Tell me how much you missed me,” he demanded softly.

She stared at him, drinking him in. He looked leaner, his body sculpted in sharp lines of muscle. He’d lost weight, surely by going mission after mission mixed with his poor eating habits. He was never good at taking care of himself. She almost missed the small paunch he used to have these last years, the one he hated, but she’d loved to bite. There was something comforting about that softness, but now he was the embodiment of raw strength.

Her gaze drifted lower, lingering on the sight of his cock, standing at full attention. She swallowed. Apparently, her memories failed to measure up to reality. He was big, sure, she’d always known that, but this big? Her core tightened with need, clenching in raw anticipation.

"I missed you,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper, laced with longing as her eyes lifted to meet his. “So much… you have no idea. God, you’ve ruined me.”

Her words shattered whatever restraint he had left. He’d imagined, countless times, that if this moment ever came, he’d take his time, savor her, and make it last. But now, faced with her beneath him, so close and so ready, patience was a luxury he no longer possessed.

Without a second thought, he gripped her thighs and spread her wide on the table, lining himself up as he dragged the head of his cock along her entrance, coating himself in her slick heat. In a swift, desperate thrust, he drove into her, hard and deep, filling her completely as a ragged groan escaped his lips.

She cried out, her body responding immediately, arching into him as he slammed into her again. His hands gripped her hips with bruising force, and his own moved in a relentless rhythm, every thrust driving him deeper. He couldn’t stop. Her moans spurred him on, her words circling in his head like a drug.

“Ruined you, huh?” His breath was ragged as he pulled almost all the way out, teasing her with the loss, before slamming back in. “Let me remind you how much.” With a raw hunger that had been bottled up far too long, Bucky's thrusts became brutal, each one driving her back along the table, her nails scraping against the wood as he took her over and over. The grip on her hips was iron-hard, pinning her down so she could do nothing but take everything he gave her. He leaned in close, his breath hot against her ear. “Think anyone else could ever do this?” he murmured, his voice dark and rough, each word punctuated by a powerful thrust. His lips ghosted along her jaw, and he pushed her to answer, knowing the effect he was having on her. “Tell me,” he demanded softly “Could anyone else make you feel like this?” He wanted her to say it, to make her admit that no one else would ever satisfy her the way he could.

She whimpered, clutching at his shoulders as he pounded into her, her nails digging into his skin as he pushed her higher and higher. “No… no one else.” Her words were broken, barely audible over her moans, but it was all he needed to hear.

“That’s right” he murmured against her lips, his voice low and rough, “No one else gets to touch you like this,” he breathed, each word laced with raw possession as he thrust deeper. “Only me,” he rasped. “Only I get to make you feel this way.”

He growled, one hand leaving her hip to slide between them, his fingers pressing down on her clit in quick, merciless circles. “This is mine,” he hissed, metal fingers working just enough to bring her close before pulling away, only to return just as she thought she couldn’t take any more.

She cried out, her body writhing beneath him as he drove her to the edge. His pace never faltered, his hips grinding against hers with a relentless rhythm, and his grip on her only tightened as she arched off the table, his name spilling from her lips like a prayer.

"Say it," he demanded, his voice thick with lust and something darker, something possessive. His hands slid down the back of her thighs, pushing her legs up against her torso as he plunged deeper, she could barely breathe every time he bottomed out. The way he hit her, the pressure at her cervix, sent shockwaves of pleasure-pain coursing through her, each one making her mewl helplessly. Her thighs shook against his chest, her hands desperately clutching at his forearms, fingers digging into his skin.

He leaned in closer again, his face inches from hers, his lips brushing her ears as he growled, “Tell me you’re mine.”

"I’m yours… fuck, Bucky!" she complied, her voice breaking between her panting breaths.

"Again," he ordered, his hips slamming into hers, the table creaking under the force of his movements. He could feel her walls clenching around him, so tight, so wet, he almost lost control then and there.

“I’m yours,” she whimpered again, her voice shaky, breathless.

“Chris will be so disappointed to hear that” he growled. “Let’s make sure you stay ruined, just in case.” He was relentless now, fucking her hard, deep, his body pressing hers further into the table as he pushed her thighs harder against her body giving him even better access, hitting that sensitive spot that left her gasping, his grip and the relentless pace leaving no room for anything but the sensation of him filling her completely, over and over.

She whimpered in response, too overwhelmed to speak, her entire body tensing as the pleasure became almost unbearable. His thumb moved between them again pressing against her clit, rubbing circles that sent sparks of heat shooting through her. She gasped, her eyes squeezing shut as her orgasm built rapidly, her body teetering on the edge.

“Milk my cock.” he ordered, his voice harsh, primal. His words pushed her over the edge and then she was gone, her body shivering violently as she clenched around him, her thighs tightening around him as her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer. The sound of his name fell from her lips, half-whisper, half-cry as the climax gripped her, intense and all-consuming, leaving her a trembling, breathless mess.

“I’m gonna fill you up,” he growled through gritted teeth, his hips snapping into hers with bruising force. “And then some more,” he rasped, his voice thick with raw need. “You won’t even be able to keep it all in, babydoll.”

With a final thrust, Bucky’s head fell back, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he reached his climax. His body trembled, muscles tensing as he spilled himself inside her, a heated wave of release filling her completely. He held her there, his cock kept pulsing until his release overflowed, warm and thick, beginning to trickle down, pooling beneath them.

Still buried inside her, Bucky loosened his grip on her thighs, hands sliding down to cradle her waist as he leaned forward, his forehead resting gently against her shoulder. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck, breathing in her scent, grounding himself as the heat of their union slowly ebbed, replaced by a quiet intimacy that neither of them seemed prepared for.

After a moment, he gently eased himself away, untangling their bodies but letting his hands linger at her hips, as though afraid to lose the connection. He took a step back, his gaze dropping for a moment before lifting to meet hers, hoping she’d break the silence but she didn’t look at him, her teeth worrying her bottom lip.

Bucky’s chest tightened, a familiar pang surfacing as he watched her withdraw inward, her mind elsewhere despite the intimacy they’d just shared. Finally, she spoke, her voice low, tentative. “So… what now, Bucky?”

He took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I don’t… I didn’t plan for this to happen,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper as he forced himself to hold her gaze. “I know I shouldn’t have done this. Not after…” He hesitated, but the truth slipped out anyway. “Not after what I put you through.”

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion clouding her expression, old wounds resurfacing. “Then why did you put me through this, Bucky?” she asked, her voice soft but laced with pain. “You said you couldn’t do this. That you needed space, that we were holding you back.” Her words hung heavy in the air, each one a quiet accusation tinged with vulnerability. “And now, you’re here, acting like…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “…acting like you never left.”

He hesitated, knowing this was his chance to finally tell her the truth or let her keep believing the lie he’d used to protect them. He rubbed a hand over his face, then lowered it, meeting her gaze with raw honesty. “I didn’t leave because I didn’t want you,” he murmured, his voice trembling. “I left because I was afraid that my past... everything I tried to bury might come back to hurt you. Hurt him.” His voice softened. “I thought if you believed I didn’t want this life, it would keep you safe.”

He glanced down, his hand twitching at his side before he looked up again, his voice hushed but resolute. "But… I want to come back,” he admitted, the words raw, like they’d been buried deep for too long. “To the house. To you, and Benjamin.”

A chill lingered in the air, and she wrapped her arms around herself, gaze flicking over their scattered clothes still strewn across the kitchen floor. She looked away, her shoulders tense as she rubbed her temples. "So, what’s changed, Bucky? The risks are still there, the same threats, the same fears..."

Bucky’s gaze didn’t waver, his hand reaching out as though to touch her, but he stopped short, fingers brushing the edge of the table instead. "What’s different is me. I’ve had time to face what I couldn’t before. Stepping aside didn’t keep you safer; it just kept me away. I don’t want Ben growing up with a dad who keeps him and his mom at arm’s length. Almost a stranger.” His voice softened, the vulnerability seeping through. “Being apart from you doesn’t make things better. I miss you, doll. I miss us.”

“You can’t just leave and come back like nothing happened, Bucky.” Her voice was softer this time, almost breaking. “I wanted you here… every day, every night. Not just for me, but for Benjamin.” Her voice trembled with raw vulnerability.

He took a step closer, his hand hovering near hers, unsure if she’d pull away. “I know, and I hate that I ever thought leaving was the answer.” His tone was low, his gaze steady on her.

She looked down, her throat bobbing as she swallowed, emotions tightening her expression. “If you come back, I need to know you’re here to stay,” she whispered, the words more for herself than for him. “Because I don’t think I can go through this again… and I won’t let him either.” Her voice cracked on the last word, her hands gripping the table harder as if to keep herself grounded.

Her words shattered the last remnants of his restraint. Without another thought, Bucky dropped to his knees in front of her, the hard tile digging into him as he pressed his forehead against her thigh. She sucked in a breath, her hand instinctively moving to his hair, fingers trembling as they brushed against him. He could feel her hesitation, the walls she’d built so carefully to guard herself from the ache he’d left behind.

“Say yes,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with the vulnerability he could no longer hide. “Say yes, doll. I know I don’t deserve it.” His hands gripped her hips, anchoring him as if she were the only thing keeping him steady. “But I swear,” His voice cracked, raw and pleading. “I swear, I’ll never walk away again. Not from you, not from Benjamin.”

She looked down, a mix of shock and pain written on her face as she saw him there, broken, open, begging her for something she’d once offered so freely. Her hand gently settled on his cheek, and he leaned into the warmth of her touch, feeling the softness of her fingers against the rough stubble of his jaw. The ache in her eyes nearly undid him, but he stayed there, his forehead still pressed to her thigh, his breath heavy, waiting.

Her eyes searched his, and slowly, her resolve began to waver, the smallest flicker of trust finding its way back into her gaze. "Then prove it," she whispered, barely trusting herself as her hand lingered against his cheek, the warmth of her palm seeping into him. "Show me you’re here to stay."

After her words hung in the air, a fragile silence between them, Bucky’s gaze dropped. He swallowed, his hand reaching for something inside the scattered clothes on the floor.

From his back pocket, he drew out a small, well-worn leather charm, a little star-shaped pendant, its edges smoothened from years of handling. She recognized it immediately. It was something she’d passed on to him when he left for his first mission after they married, a symbol she hoped would keep him safe. She thought it had been lost long ago, like so many pieces of them.

He held it out to her, and the look on his face was raw, vulnerable in a way she hadn’t seen since the early days. “I never stopped carrying this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick. “Even when I tried to convince myself I was doing the right thing by staying away. I couldn’t let go of you…of us. I kept it close, hoping… hoping someday I could come back and give it back to you. I know it doesn’t make up for the time I lost, but…” His voice faltered, the sincerity there unmistakable.

She stared at the pendant, her hand shaking slightly as she reached out, fingers grazing the familiar leather. All the memories it held, the late-night goodbyes, the whispered promises, the hope she’d once tied to it, all of it rushed back, filling the space between them.

She looked down at him, seeing in his eyes the weight of the years, the regrets, but also the glimmer of the man she’d fallen in love with.

Taking a shaky breath, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. “This… this was supposed to keep you safe, Bucky. Keep us safe.”

“And it did,” he replied softly, his hand covering hers over the charm. “It kept you here.” He paused, his voice barely a murmur. “And maybe now… it can bring me back home.”

The last of her defenses wavered, and she felt herself letting go of the anger, the hurt, all the pieces that had kept them apart. “Maybe… maybe it was always meant to guide you back here,” she said softly, her eyes meeting his with a warmth he hadn’t seen in years. “So if you’re really here to stay… then welcome home, Bucky.”

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier fanfiction #Ex-husband!Bucky

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rxmxa · 2 months ago

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asteroid medusa and how she shows up ❤️‍🔥

my ideas + observations on what asteroid medusa thru the houses might look like in daily life <3

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 1st House ⊹₊⟡⋆: “I see the way they look at me”, sharp eyes that notice everything, you walk into a room and silence follows—people sense your power before they even know you. That intimidating aura, furrowed brows, a face that’s hard to read, posture as armor. Betrayal that feels personal, as if your very existence triggers jealousy or envy. Steely confidence built from surviving others’ judgments, scars from emotional battles worn like invisible medals. “They’ll regret underestimating me”, cutting people off at first sight, redefining yourself after every betrayal, always bouncing back harder than before. Eyes that see into souls, surviving by knowing when to strike back, dressing sharply to keep people at a distance, an air of mystery around you that some find magnetic, others find terrifying.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 2nd House ⊹₊⟡⋆: "You tried to take what’s mine", betrayal around money or values, hoarding what you treasure, defending your resources like a fortress. You learned early to guard what you earn (whether it’s wealth, time, or love. ) A steely determination to never be taken advantage of again, “you’ll never take this from me”. Wearing your status as armor, showing off what you’ve built after surviving betrayal. Holding grudges around finances, slow-burning anger when someone crosses your boundaries. Material wealth as a sign of survival, knowing the worth of everything especially yourself. Keeping your distance from people who take more than they give, collecting emotional debts like receipts. "I don’t forget", fierce loyalty to what’s yours, deep fear of loss hidden behind stoic confidence.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 3rd House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayed by words, “they twisted what I said... i never fucking said that”, sharp-tongued but rarely speak first, storing every slight for future use. Mental agility as protection, noticing the subtext in every conversation. You learned to be careful with who you trust, especially with secrets. Betrayed by a sibling, a friend, or someone close who used your own words against you. “I’ll never be caught off guard again”, cutting remarks that leave scars, fierce debater who always knows how to strike at someone’s weak spot. Learning how to stay silent when needed, but always ready to defend yourself verbally. Intelligence weaponized, you outsmarting those who try to manipulate you. Cold, calculating responses, watching what you say to avoid being misinterpreted. Reading between the lines, staying ahead of the conversation.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 4th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayal at home, wounds buried deep, “family isn’t always what it seems”, protecting yourself from those closest to you. Learning not to trust the place that’s supposed to be safe, building emotional walls as high as the roof over your head. Hiding pain within the home, survival instinct triggered by early betrayals like maybe a family member, maybe an ancestor’s wound passed down to you. “I’ll make my own home, my own rules”, fiercely defending your personal space, cutting off toxic relatives without hesitation. A fortress within yourself, finding safety in solitude. Emotional betrayals cut the deepest, but you know how to rebuild. A sense of privacy that no one can penetrate, home as a place of survival, keeping everyone out until you’re sure you can trust them. Old family wounds kept like secrets in the walls.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 5th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: "They took what was mine", betrayal in love or creativity, stolen ideas or stolen hearts. A deep need for recognition, but wary of those who seek to take your light. Protecting your passions like they’re your children, "no one will steal my joy again", guarding your romantic life fiercely. Love that feels dangerous, feeling betrayed when someone doesn’t value your art, your heart, or your playfulness. Creative expression used as a shield, channeling betrayal into artistic power. Romance as a battlefield, taking your power back through pleasure. “You’ll never dim my light again”, learning to be unapologetically yourself after someone tried to steal your shine, playing hard but with high walls. Fiercely protective of your love life, wary of those who come too close.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 6th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayed at work, “they took credit for my hard work”, survival through daily routines and the grind. You learned that even the small betrayals can hurt especially like being used, being taken advantage of in a work or health related setting. Protecting your energy in the everyday, fighting for recognition, doing the work no one wants but expecting respect in return. "I won’t be ignored", quiet strength in routines, surviving through discipline. Learning to set boundaries in your daily life after betrayal taught you that not everyone will value your efforts. The need to be perfect, to prove yourself, because someone once undervalued your contribution. Work as therapy, focusing on the grind to avoid emotional pain, using self-care as a weapon to protect your health and energy.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 7th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayal in relationships, "I trusted you, and you turned on me", harsh lessons in partnership. You learned to guard your heart after someone broke it, or maybe after you saw betrayal in someone else’s relationship. “I won’t be betrayed again”, walls up high with love, wary of giving too much in partnerships. The eyes that see through false promises, knowing when someone isn’t genuine. Fiercely loyal but only to those who prove themselves. Relationships are battlegrounds and love is power. Protecting your heart at all costs, boundaries like stone walls around your affection. “Show me your loyalty before you get my trust”, cutting ties with ease when someone disrespects your boundaries. Fierce lover, but a protector of your own vulnerability.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 8th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: "You won’t control me", betrayal in intimacy or through shared resources, learning how to defend yourself from those who try to take too much. Deep betrayal in matters of trust, perhaps through sex, shared finances, or emotional bonds. “You’ll regret taking advantage of me”, using secrets as shields, emotional power struggles that burn deep. Sexual energy as both power and vulnerability, betrayal that cuts through to your core. Reclaiming your power after betrayal, knowing when to hold back and when to strike. Hidden wounds but fierce defenses, transforming pain into power. Keeping your enemies close but always a step ahead, watching, waiting, striking when they least expect it. Deep, dark emotional landscapes that few can understand.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 9th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayal in beliefs or higher learning, "they took my truth and twisted it", learning that trust in knowledge is fragile. Fighting for your beliefs after someone tried to undermine them, fierce independence in your philosophy of life. "I’ll find my own truth", betrayed by a mentor or guide, discovering that wisdom isn’t always kind. Traveling far and wide to find your place, but always wary of trusting someone else's truth, fighting for the beliefs that make you whole, protecting your mind from false doctrines, learning that knowledge can be power but also pain. Searching for justice, fighting for the underdog, knowing that betrayal can be the greatest teacher.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 10th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayed in your public life, "they tried to ruin my reputation", wounds from authority figures or public perception. Fighting to reclaim your name, building yourself back up after someone tried to tear you down. “I’ll prove them wrong”, fierce reputation, learning to guard your achievements like gold. Climbing the ladder after a fall, turning betrayal into motivation. A reputation for being impenetrable, unshakable even in the face of public criticism. Using your power for good after surviving the public’s gaze, cold stares that shut down rumors. “They can’t touch me now”, staying cool under pressure, cutting ties with those who use you as a stepping stone. Fierce independence in your career, learning that you must protect your name at all costs.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 11th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: Betrayed by friends or social groups, "why are they doing this to me?", wounds from communities or friendships that didn’t live up to their promises. Learning to navigate the social game without letting it destroy you, big friendship groups collapsing from under u, boys in the friendship group ruining it by wanting you or trying to get with u, keeping your true friends close but never fully letting down your guard. Group betrayals that made you stronger, social circles that once burned you but now hold no power over you. Finding independence in social dynamics, no longer needing approval to stand tall. "I’ll be my own friend", keeping your true opinions hidden until it’s safe. Learning to trust the few after the many have let you down, finding strength in the ones who’ve been loyal through it all.

⟡⋆ Medusa in the 12th House ⊹₊⟡⋆: subconscious wounds, betrayal from hidden enemies or forces you couldn’t predict. Deep psychological scars that you keep buried, learning to protect yourself from invisible threats. Betrayal by those who pretend to care, learning that not everyone has good intentions, even those who seem close. “I learned my lesson...I’ll guard my spirit now”, retreating into yourself to heal from wounds no one else can see. Dreams that warn you of betrayals to come, cutting off energy vampires without hesitation. Hidden enemies, emotional scars that no one knows you carry, but you rise stronger in solitude. Spiritual survival, finding solace in your own company, knowing that your power comes from within, and no one can take that away from you.

#astro observations #astro notes #astrology notes #astrology observations #astrology #random astro #random astro note #rxmxa #asteroid medusa #medusa through the houses

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too-much-tma-stuff · 9 months ago

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Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm.

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens.

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed.

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile.

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree.

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly.

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile.

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny.

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed.

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out.

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest.

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy.

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair!

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this?

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing.

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with.

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences.

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna.

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce.

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately.

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh.

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

#alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #danny phantom #jasmine fenton #dc x dp #fanfiction #finally getting help au #trans!danny #Danny is pregnant #damian wayne #casandra cain #implied sa #the fentons are bad parents #jason todd #eventual dead on main

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lucysarah-c · 1 month ago

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"Those are my fries, and those are yours,"

"Come on! Does it really make a difference if I take just one?" You retorted.

"Settled accounts keep old friends," he mumbled, mouth half full of food.

You giggled as he took off the top bun from his burger, piled on a bunch of fries, and took a huge bite. The scene was downright chaotic, and you burst out laughing. Levi, who normally cared about appearances, was wolfing down the McDonald's meal with an intensity that didn’t quite match the polished image he’d shown earlier, even though that suit probably cost a fortune.

Ketchup stuck to the corner of his mouth as he raised an eyebrow, silently questioning what was so funny. Once he'd swallowed, he muttered, "Eat before the fries get cold. They taste horrible like that."

You couldn't help but reflect on how the night had gone. The House of CB dress you'd bought and saved for a special occasion, the hair you had done at the salon, the makeup you practiced to mimic the subtle but lovely glam of the latest Bridgerton season—none of that had been planned for you to end up in your boyfriend's car, surrounded by a ridiculous amount of fast food from a drive-thru at 11 p.m.

The empty parking lot outside, with snow accumulating, could have been eerie if you weren’t sitting next to Levi. Fries slathered in extra cheddar sauce were scattered everywhere, and Levi shoveled them into his mouth without a care. No lights, no music, but it didn't matter—you felt safe with him, though neither of you was keen on tempting fate by keeping the car lights on in the middle of nowhere.

Taking a bite of your own burger, you chuckled again. "I don't think I've ever seen you this hungry."

Levi paused mid-chew to take a swig of his Coke. "Tch, those posh assholes. They dragged me around for hours—hours! Examples of this, representation of that, and handshakes with whoever. From 3 p.m.! They didn’t even let me grab a sandwich at the reception. Finally, they serve dinner at 10—TEN!" he grumbled, the delay clearly having been the final straw. "And what did they serve? One shrimp, a tiny cube of cheese, and some grass they picked from outside and called a gourmet dinner."

"Rich people don’t eat much; that’s why," you teased. "It’s fancy to have tiny portions on huge plates."

"That’s because they’re all on Ozempic, buying up medicine that people actually need. Fuck them," he muttered.

On any other occasion, Levi would’ve cursed you for eating in his car, but tonight he made an exception. "How are my ice creams?"

Levi glanced outside where the ice creams were stored in the cold air to keep from melting. Processing your words, he turned back to you. "My ice creams? You mean ours."

"Oh, Levi, aren’t you going to gift me one? What kind of gentleman are you?" you teased.

"Right now, I’d bite your arm off if it weren’t for the fact that McDonald’s is still open," he replied with a smirk.

You laughed again. It had been the government holiday party, and you’d been so excited to attend, ready to rub elbows with high society. One of the older women had even told you, "You should've asked for a brand to sponsor your dress, coming as Levi’s plus-one!" Erwin had insisted that Levi attend as a representative of the Ackerman family, much to your boyfriend's dismay. Uri had agreed, probably because any option was better than Kenny for a formal event.

"Erwin will kill you when he finds out," you said, remembering how Levi had messaged you to sneak out. You’d never imagined he’d drag you through a bathroom window, across the estate grounds, and into his car for a McDonald’s run. "What about Uri? I ran into him during dinner. He was so nice!"

Levi hummed in approval, acknowledging that the old man had always been a saint in his eyes. The only one capable of dealing with Kenny for so many years.

Suddenly, Levi's phone lit up, its ringtone breaking the quiet. "Fuck!" you panicked.

"Don’t answer. If we do, they’ll know I’m reachable," Levi said, ignoring the calls.

Message after message flooded his phone—texts from Uri, Traute, and Erwin: Where are you? Levi, answer the phone ASAP. Come back here this instant.

The calls came in one after another.

"They won’t stop," you muttered. "Maybe we should just tell them—"

"No. They’d send the national guard to drag me back to that snob-filled hell," Levi spat. Despite not picking up, both of you whispered as if the unanswered calls could somehow hear.

At some point, the whole situation became hilarious. You found yourself resting your head on his shoulder, chuckling as the phone buzzed incessantly. Levi kept refusing to answer, and in the midst of it all, you shared sloppy kisses in the darkened car.

"I’ve got an idea…" you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. Levi looked at you, confused, the noise from the phone distracting from the moment you were building.

Casually, you swiped up on the screen and answered. "Levi? Where are—"

With a fake gasp and an exaggerated tone, you moaned, "Ah, Lev—Yes!"

Levi had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing as he realized what you were doing. "Play along," you whispered. And before you knew it, he began thumping the side door, mimicking the sound of… well, thrusts.

"Harder!" you managed between giggles before the call abruptly ended, leaving both of you in hysterics.

"Well, they’re definitely not calling anymore," Levi shook his head, still grinning, knowing full well this prank wouldn’t go unpunished.

"You can always say we were busy working on the Ackerman heir they keep asking for," you teased.

Levi grimaced, entertained by the thought. "I mean…" His hand slid up your thigh, the mood shifting as his touch grew more insistent. "We could actually be doing that."

Your hips began to move slightly over his lap. A quick glance at the clock—the only light inside the car—showed 12:05 a.m. Finally past midnight. "Whatever the birthday boy wants," you purred.

—

"He picked up? What did he say, sir?" Traute asked irritably in the event staff area, where they were waiting to bring out the enormous, decorated cake for the final part of the evening.

Uri chuckled, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. "I think he’s already celebrating. Let’s just carry on."

(No idea what this is, the idea just pop up in my mind)

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!

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starkwlkr · 10 months ago

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hi i love your writing, i have a request could you imagine where ruby talks about being in love with a friend from school, and charles and ruby's uncles are protective and jealous and y/n laugh at the whole situation

the L word | charles leclerc

“Maman, when did you know you were in love?”

Y/n thought it was such a serious question for an eight year old to ask, but she answered the question anyway.

“Well the first time—”

“You can be in love more than once?”

Y/n chuckled and nodded. “Yes, Ruby, you can. Some people fall in love once, and other don’t.”

“Why?” The girl asked.

“It’s just how life is.”

That stuck with Ruby for a while. Her mother explained the concept of love to her. For being an eight year old, Ruby understood it quite well until she asked if being in love automatically means that you had to marry that person.

“Um . . Not necessarily. Not everyone that’s in love married each other.” Y/n explained.

“Why? They love each other. You and papa love each other and you’re married.” She stated.

“Well not everyone wants to get married. And it doesn’t really work like that. For example, I love you and Mathéo—”

“Don’t forget about Floppy.” Ruby interrupted.

“And Floppy, yes,” Y/n chuckled as the mentioned of the stuffed bunny. “I love my friends and family too. Do you get it?”

Ruby slowly nodded. “I think so. But maman, can I tell you something?”

“Of course, what is it?”

“I think I’m in love.”

Y/n kept Ruby’s secret until Charles made it back to Monaco for the Grand Prix. Ruby had told her mother about her crush on a classmate from her piano class. Y/n thought it was adorable that her daughter had a crush unlike Charles who thought it was the end of the world.

“She’s too young! She’s my baby!” Charles spoke with Y/n as he got ready for the day. The Monaco Grand Prix was in a few days and he was already stressing about the race, now he had more to stress about.

“She’s eight, Charles. It’s just a little crush. You never had crushes as a kid?” Y/n asked, as she started to make the bed.

“I didn’t care about girls back then, I was too focused on racing.” He admitted. Y/n the stopped what she was doing and stared at him until he said the truth. “Okay, I had one crush, but she didn’t like me back! She liked some boy who stole my favorite pen from school.”

“Poor you.” Y/n chuckled then walked to the bathroom to start doing her hair, Charles walked in with her.

“But now I have the best wife who gave me the best children ever and hopefully she’ll give me more . .” Charles kissed his wife’s cheek repeatedly.

“Keep dreaming, Perceval. Maybe in the future. If we have more, imagine how you’re going to be when they start dating.”

“Oh god.”

After getting ready, the couple and the kids made it to the paddock. Usually, Ruby was energetic and loud, but her behavior that day changed. She was quiet and stayed with her mother holding her hand. When they walked into the Ferrari garage, Carlos was shocked to see a calm Ruby.

“Is she sick?” Carlos asked the parents.

“No, she’s fine she’s just nervous.” Y/n replied.

“Nervous for Charles or Ferrari?”

Charles rolled his eyes. “Actually, she’s nervous for herself. The boy she has a crush on is coming to watch the race, which I’m not happy about so can we please talk about something else?”

“She has a crush? No, she’s too young!” Carlos whisper yelled.

“That’s what I said! Thank you!” Charles brought his teammate in for a hug.

“Unbelievable, come on kids. Let’s go find Aunt Kika.”

By the time it was time to do interviews, the whole grid seemed to know about Ruby’s crush and each of them reacted similar to Charles and Carlos. Since Ruby’s first paddock appearance, the grid loved her. She had them wrapped around her finger and they didn’t mind one bit.

“What’s his name? How old is he? Do I know his parents? Where does he live?”

“Calm down, Pierre, they’re eight.”

“I need to know who my niece likes! What if he’s not good enough for her? Ruby deserves the world.” Pierre told Y/n as the family and a couple of drivers sat in the Ferrari hospitality.

“They’re eight. Why are all of you on Charles’ side? They’re kids, they’re not going to get married tomorrow.” Kika added.

“I’m not on papa’s side. I’m here for ice cream!” Mathéo said as he continued eating the frozen treat.

“Thank you, Théo. Keep eating, baby.” Y/n kissed her son’s cheek.

“There’s a percentage of people that end up marrying the person they met in their childhood. Ruby could fall into that category.” Charles stated.

“You sound ridiculous right now. I don’t think that’s a bad thing. It’s cute, my childhood crush moved away to Canada or something.” Y/n said casually.

“Is it Lance?” Lando questioned.

“Mate, she said he moved to Canada, I’m pretty sure Lance was born there.” Carlos told Lando.

“Anyways . . . I suggest we keep Ruby in the Ferrari garage at all times then when the race finishes, we take her straight home and we all live happily ever after.” Charles proposed.

“Yeah, that seems dumb. But good luck finding her, she’s been with the boy from her piano class this whole time we’ve been talking. I think Fred is giving them a tour of the garage last I heard.”

#inbox <3 #anon #formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #baby leclerc series #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc imagine

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onsomenewsht · 4 months ago

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The sun's in my heart and I'm ready for love

About when she's right next to you, he's a menace and nothing can rain on your parade

》 Alexia Putellas x Reader

》 words count: -1.4k

》 rain or shine [idiom]: regardless of the weather or circumstances; sometimes used figuratively for whatever happens

“Mami, it’s raining today too!”

Your son’s voice is a sound you’ll never get tired of.

That’s what you have to remind yourself as you open your eyes at six in the morning on a rare day off, a five-year-old kid jumping on the bed without a care.

The rain hitting the windows is actually the third noise your still-half-asleep mind manages to take in – yet one you’re starting to get used to after almost a year in London.

Upon hearing Rafael’s voice – hours of Facetime could never make your son’s voice justice or bridge the distance –, the slight snoring of your wife comes to you, blissfully asleep at your side and unaware.

Lucky her.

“Rafa, it’s gonna stop soon”, you hope, trying to smooth his disappointment. Or at least make him stop bouncing.

“Aquí siempre llueve!” [but it’s always raining here]

He has a point.

Used to the Barcelona sun, the kid’s trips in London are often greeted by cloudy days and unexpected rainfalls. Maybe an entire morning exploring the park was an overly bold and optimistic promise.

“Monito, ven aquí” [come here]

She rises.

You turn to the woman as she pats the space between the two of you with one hand, the other on her face, trying to wake herself up properly – and hiding an amused smirk too.

Alexia’s smile grows as she welcomes your son under the blankets.

She looks tired, exhausted even. It’s a long and tricky season, the one occurring. And the situation you find yourself in as a family since you accepted the transfer to London is not helping.

You’re trying though, you all are.

“What do you think of lots of cuddles and then lots of waffles while we wait for the rain to stop, ¿qué tal?”

“How many waffles are we talking about?”

“A tantos como podamos comer” [as many as we can eat]

You lightly hit the blonde’s arm, avoiding being seen by Rafael.

She’s perfectly aware you’re going to be the one cooking for two people able to eat like an army – way too much for an athlete during the season and a kid barely tall enough to reach the kitchen counter by himself.

As an answer, the Catalan blows you a kiss and a wink.

You miss dearly mornings like this one, serene and without the frenetic need to be and to do as much as possible in the shortest time out of fear of not doing enough, not being together enough, before you have to be far away again.

“Hay trato” [we have a deal], he says with gravity after a careful evaluation of the proposal.

You and Alexia can’t hold back a laugh at Rafael’s unusual solemnity, ruffling his hair.

“¡Mami, no! You have to wake up, you have to make waffles!

“Yo? Oh no, you didn’t make a deal with me, monito”

“¡Por favor!, mamà can’t make them as good”

The mentioned lets out an offended gasp at the boy’s statement, bringing one hand to her chest as mortally wounded, to then theatrically collapse on the bed.

“My own child!”

“Mamà, es la verdad” [it’s true], Rafael doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge his mother, addressing you instead to plead his cause, “She tries to make them when I miss you, but they’re not really good”

Ignoring the grip on your heart at your son’s comment is way too difficult, but one thing you’re sadly starting to master, redirecting the conversation and sparking another little argument between him and Alexia.

It’s something you both learned to do in the past year, both out of necessity and out of care. You don’t hide the pain the distance causes your family, but you always try to make up for it with the love that binds you.

And with waffles, apparently.

The background noise subsides when you come back from your own head to giggles and a tickle fight.

Without even realising how it happens, you find yourself outnumbered with Alexia on top of you, holding your hands, while Rafael can’t hold back his laugh – even if he’s the one tickling you.

As soon as you decide it’s a reasonable time to actually get out of bed, you push both out of the room, demanding that they get dressed and at least set the table if they want to eat as many waffles as they can.

You’ve never seen either of them get ready so quickly.

What’s left of your morning passes between a long, messy breakfast, the constant rain as white noise, and silly games to distract your son from the boredom of another day locked in your new apartment.

For a kid as full of energy as Rafael is, there can be nothing worse.

A gentle hand diverts your gaze from the little boy not far away, busy setting up some toys to teach his moms a new game he invented.

“You don’t want this to get stuck”, Alexia hits you back with the same sentence you usually tell her when, too focused on something, her face wrinkles.

You turn your face, leaning into her care and her calloused hand.

“Does he hate me?”, you ask in a whisper, closing your eyes.

It’s your wife’s face that frowns this time, holding your face with both hands firmly as she tries to lift your genuinely frightened gaze to meet hers.

“How could he?”

“I moved to another country”, you answer – I left you, you’re too ashamed to say.

“Look at me, mi amor”

“I can’t–”

“Then look at him, por favor”

You dare glare back at your son, still lining up his toys and muttering some words to himself. He feels your eyes on himself, firing a smile in your direction and an excited “Almost ready, moms!”

“He loves you, and I love you”

“But–”

“No, we love you”, the Catalan states with a determinate edge in her voice, “You’re doing what’s best for your career, and neither of us is gonna hold it against you, not now nor ever. We’re making this work, no matter what”

Lost for words, you try to convey your gratitude with a kiss.

“No más lluvia!” [it’s stopped raining], the moment is interrupted by the childlike joy of Rafael, who joins you running and jumping, “Can we go out now?”

“I think it’s a bit too cold to–”

You stop Alexia with a hand on her arm and a small, resolute smile on your face, “It’s okay, go wear the raincoat Vic gifted you”

“¡Vamos!”

He skips to his room in your apartment, and you follow shortly behind, urging your wife to do the same. The blonde has a curious and slightly sceptical look on her face at the sudden mood shift.

“Cheer up, you don’t want that to get stuck”, you mock her with a grin.

The walk to the park just behind your apartment is marked by Rafael’s enthusiastic hopping. He is adorable, protected by huge amphibians and a yellow raincoat with a duck beak on the hood.

A view that manages to hearten Alexia, despite her aversion to the London weather.

When the two of you notice a huge puddle in the middle of the park, you know your son is going for it even before he sprints forward.

The kid jumps impressively high, right into the water, creating a wide splash all around as his open laugh fills the park and your heart.

You don’t miss a bit, taking your wife’s hand and running toward the mini version of the footballer ahead of you – right into the puddle to join the fun. Even skipping and kicking the water more when it starts to pour again, soaking you all head to toe.

The Catalan woman’s hands find your waist as you land another jump, spinning you around and right in her arms.

Loud giggles subside just when Alexia’s lips find yours, not caring about the rain or how the smiles on both your faces make it difficult to kiss properly.

What takes you apart is the sudden wave of water that hits hard and cold, Rafael jumping right between the two of you with a huge grin on his face as he draws your attention very effectively.

You and Alexia look at him, not ready at all for the loud “Quack!” he shouts, covered in his duck-like raincoat.

#alexia putellas x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #alexia putellas #woso community #woso imagine #woso #ap11 #here we go again #my wo(rd)so #waiting in line

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bunnis-monsters · 3 months ago

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This is a weird ass ask, ignore me if it's too weird ok! But what happens when the baby bees grow up? Do they just leave the hive or is it just best not to think that far? I love the bee hybrid idea so much but every cool idea has those little wrinkles. Again, you can ignore my random thought if you want but I was just curious what your thoughts were since it's your idea.

Hmm, so I’m not sure if they’d mate with the queen in a normal hive, I don’t know THAT much about bees. You can assume that if you want, but here’s ky take.

In a normal there’s the female worker bees and the drone male bees. Since this hive is all male, the children fill in some of the worker bee role. Your children will tend to and take care of you since their love for you is familial, but they still have the same intensity of love as the rest of the hive and are all willing to die to keep the queen safe.

Any females are sent out to make new hives, and any males can stick behind. Though, the baby bees from the previous queen will grow up to mate with the queen. It’s kinda hard to tell who’s who so it won’t really mess with you.

If you’re wondering about how this will affect the hive’s longevity, don’t worry!

There are a few ways they make this system work!

Although no female bees are allowed in accept the queen, male honey bees are allowed to join their ranks. This means a regular influx of new males to mate with and create children!

The bee hybrids also trade with sister hives! Daughters of the previous queen will send over males from her hive in exchange for male children from your hive. It’s a diplomatic thing, and your babies will miss you dearly, but they’re all grown up by the time they’re ready to be shipped out.

It’s also good to have children that are more loyal to you than their own queen at your beck and call! You and the queen end up on really bad terms and go to war? Your children assassinate the queen and bring their whole hive to you! Now you have an entire second hive to rule!

The goal of the species is to spread like wildfire. If every female has an entire HIVE of male bee hybrids that worship them, can you imagine just how many hives are out there?

They’re definitely an invasive species lol…

Anyways back to the question. I like to leave some things up to the imagination, so if you want it to be more accurate to bees imagine what you want. These are just my ideas on how it goes!

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nyoomerr · 6 months ago

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Normally, the community of Proud Immortal Demon Way can hardly be called as such. To call PIDW readers a ‘fandom’ would be akin to calling everyone who visited the same porn site a family. PeerlessCucumber is a loud exception, but in the end he’s still only an exception - by and large, people reading PIDW know exactly what they’re there for, and it certainly isn’t for any sense of shared enjoyment or community.

The community of people following PeerlessCucumber himself, however, is a whole different story.

PeerlessCucumber is the asshole single handedly responsible for at least seven different copypastas, the rich bastard that will pay an artist’s rent for a single picture of Luo Binghe if only the artist can tolerate his demands for constant revisions, the dictionary definition of an anti-fan.

He is also blissfully unaware of the absolute glee in which people take in riling him up. And in the age of the modern internet, nothing brings a group of strangers together like the opportunity to poke fun of a guy like that.

“How do I look?” HualingsWife whispers to her companions. They take a moment to scrutinize her, gaze lingering around her chest.

“I don’t know,” SwordsOfCultivators says, “I think the guy ahead of you let his robes drape open further.”

HualingsWife rolls her eyes. “If I let my robes drape open that far, I’d be disqualified - you know the rules are different for men.”

“It’s not like you’re looking to win, though,” XuanyuMeat says. “And the open chest is clearly effective.”

The three of them pause, turning to look at the stage from their spot in the wings. The competitor that came before HualingsWife is running through a series of poses that are slowly but surely allowing his robes to slip ever wider.

Two of the judges are watching with thinly veiled amusement - after several years of this tradition, they’ve gotten used to the chaos that PeerlessCucumber’s fans bring to these cosplay competitions.

The third judge is PeerlessCucumber himself, and he looks like he might be experiencing a serious health condition. A serious mental health condition, to be clear.

“- robes of inferior make! Binghe’s exposure is always purposeful, and artful, and it wouldn’t be because he was wearing robes that didn’t fit him! If you don’t care about dressing true to his character -!”

“Hm,” SwordsOfCultivators hums. “Is it just me, or is Peerless not being as harsh as he usually is? Do you think he’s finally losing some of his obsession with Luo Binghe?”

“He better not!” HualingsWife cries. “I’ve put way too much time and money into working on a cosplay for that awful porn book for him to lose interest right when I get my chance to join the torturing-Peerless-fun!”

“No, no,” XuanyuMeat says, shaking their head. “You heard his rants for the Luo Binghe cosplayers one through four - he was especially cruel to them! Look at his face now, that isn’t the face of someone losing interest!”

They turn back to the stage. Luo Binghe cosplayer number five - likely DickBiggerThanBinghe, if HualingsWife were to guess based on her limited interactions with him in the PeerlessWatchers discord chat - looks unbearably smug. His robes have fallen completely off his shoulders by now.

PeerlessCucumber, on the other hand, looks so red HualingsWife wouldn’t be surprised if she started seeing steam pouring out of his ears.

“Ah,” she says, understanding. “You think he’s recently finally realized his obsession with Luo Binghe isn’t that of a straight man’s?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him to get this flustered over a man’s exposed chest and still think it was caused purely by the outrage of seeing one of our ‘poorly done’ cosplays,” XuanyuMeat says wryly. They send HaulingsWife a pointed side eye. “So…”

“Oh yeah, I’m on it,” HualingsWife says, already loosening her robes further. “Just make sure to have the cameras ready to get the direct comparison of his reaction to a woman’s nip-slip versus the absolute conniption he’s going through now.”

“Please, he probably won’t even see it - he’ll probably get all awkward and look away like he does with any female cosplayer dressed in anything but a full body suit.”

“I think he’ll peek through his fingers anyway,” SwordsOfCultivators says gleefully. “He wouldn’t dare miss the chance to oggle another Luo Binghe cosplayer.”

On stage, DickBiggerThanBinghe finally waltzes off, having received his scoring from all three judges and a score from the back of the room where the group of PeerlessWatchers are sitting.

After all, none of them are really here for the actual cosplay competition. They only care about one thing: whoever can get the highest scoring Peerless rant about their cosplay will pay for dinner for everyone that night.

“Ohh, seven out of ten!” HualingsWife says, as the group PeerlessWatchers wave their scorecard around with glee. “The last time someone got scored that highly was when TofuBuns dared to cosplay as a half-dead Luo Binghe covered in wounds!”

“TofuBuns still has their display name set to ‘faithless mongrel undeserving of witnessing Binghes success’ in the discord server,” SwordsOfCultivators sighs. “I can only hope to one day trigger a Peerless rant so iconic.”

On stage, one of the judges glances down at the score sheet, sees that another Luo Binghe cosplayer is scheduled to come out next, and stifles a laugh before gesturing for HualingsWife to come on.

“No way I’m getting something that iconic my first try,” HualingsWife says, “but if I can get Peerless to make that hilarious choking noise he made the last time he saw a female-presenting Luo Binghe, I’ll count it as a win.”

#and for the record this is totally an AU in which one day bingge shows up and accidentally stumbles on stage while sy is judging #torn between bingge being the one guy sy can find no complaints with or if bingge should ALSO have to bear sy tearing his outfit apart tho #svsss #人渣反派自救系统 #scum villain's self saving system #fic drabble

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msfantasy · 1 month ago

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Return Home Visit

Paul Lahote x Cullen!Reader

Summary: Rosalie and Emmets daughter visits during college break.

“I said get out of my house dog!” Rosalie spits venomously to Paul who stands awkwardly in the door way. “I don’t care if she’s your imprint, she’s not going to be with you! Over my dead body!”

“You can’t keep her from me forever.” Paul retorts edging in closer. “She deserve to know she’s my imprint, we’ll be together eventually whether you like it or not.” Rosalie pulls her fist back which Emmet lunges and grabs her arm before any damage is inflicted.

“Don’t, she’s almost here.” Emmet whispers. Everyone in the Cullen household listens to the echoing foot steps walking up the drive way.

“Leave before-“ Your voice cuts off Rosalie’s threat.

“Oh my god Paul?! Is that you? What are you doing here?” You squeaked excitedly, placing your bags down only to swing your arms around Paul’s neck pulling him into a tight hug. Leaning away, Paul looks down to your face, looking into your beaming eyes. God his heart yearns for your affection. He just wanted to look into your eyes forever, and hold you just like you are forever. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” But before Paul could utter another word, Rosalie interrupts.

“Uh - hello? Aren’t you going to greet your own mother first?” Rosalie snaps making you quickly withdrawal from Paul’s embrace, the warmth of embarrassment creeps along your cheeks.

You quickly pull your mother into a tight hug. “I missed you Ma.” Your sweet words of proclamation melt Rosalie’s soul into a puddle. Your presence always managed to soothe her nerves.

“My turn babygirl, come give your old man a hug.” Your hulking father doesn’t give you a chance to pull away. He just wraps his large arms around you and Rosalie. “Both my girls are here with me. The world feels right again.” His corny words only make you giggle.

“Come now, we have your favourite take away ready on speed dial.” Rosalie hoaxes making you giddy with excitement.

“Thank ma, I’m starving! What do you feel like Paul? They have an awesome burger that has your name all over it.” Paul sheepishly enters the house hesitant under Rosalie’s murderous gaze.

“Sweetness… I thought it would just be a family evening…” You look to your dad to sooth the vein popping out of your mothers forehead, but your father only folds to your mother. Typical.

“She’s right sweetheart, we just want to spend the night with our daughter, we haven’t seen you in so long. I’m sure you understand Paul.” He says amicably, but the strong push of Emmets hands are anything but as Paul goes tumbling out the door and thudding shut on your long time crush which only serves to anger you further with the rush of humiliation.

“What is up with you guys?! What’s your problem with Paul anyway?” Your cheeks begin flaring in humiliation at your parents not so subtle dislike. “Ever since I met Paul you’ve acted so hostile and unwelcoming towards him. He’s never even done anything to deserve your wrath.”

“He’s a turns into a dog! They’re slave to their emotions, what happens if he gets upset with you one day and you come out more disfigured than Emily?” The horror of your parents words and actions light your head on fire.

“Uncle Jasper almost wrote the end date on my gravestone once, or have you forgotten?” You spit angerily, Rosalie doesn’t flinch.

“I have never forgotten, it’s why we are so cautious.”

“Your caution is suffocating me! I cannot live a long a fulfilling life if you guys are protecting me at every moment. Besides it’s not life Paul and I are serious or anything.” Now Emmet twitches at your statement.

“What does that mean?” Your Pa’s jaw clenches at your insinuation.

“It doesn’t mean anything Pops, it just means you and Ma are so over protective that we haven’t gotten more serious.” Your voice waivers.

Too late the words have settled outside of your mouth and Emmet looks ready to commit murder.

“That filthy beast! I’ll kill him!” Emmet announces, trudging to the door with great anger and throwing open the glass door.

It took all members of the Cullen family to hold Emmet back from a rampage. The boys had no choice but to call in Bella for her new born strength to hold back the over protective papa bear.

But Rosalie stared at her daughter, ignoring her husband and his antics whilst Y/n yelled to calm down . It only felt like yesterday when Emmet and her picked up their new born adoptive daughter, enamoured with her tiny hands and squishy rounded cheeks. Now a grown woman yelling at her dad to back off her unlabelled lover.

Rosalie yearned to turn back time to relive the glory days of having a baby, but just like human life, time is flashy by too quickly and she just wasn’t ready to let her baby go.

But she had to, this was her baby’s rite of passage.

Y/n, is Rosalie’s and Emmets grown-up daughter, and it’s time Rosalie finally accepts it.

#twilight x you #twilight x y/n #twilight x reader #twilight fanfiction #twilight imagine #twilight #rosalie cullen x reader #emmet Cullen x reader #Paul Lahote x reader #werewolf x reader #Daughter!Reader #x daughter!reader #Cullen!reader #Paul Lahote imagine

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merlinmylove · 5 days ago

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A fic of every person Merlin has ever sent to his mother:

Chapter one: Lancelot arrives in Ealdor, saying he’s looking for a woman named Hunith. “I’m a friend of Merlin’s, he said you might let me stay a while — I will help and provide anything you might need Madam. If only for a few days, so I may rest” Lancelot is kind and happy to help. He chops down trees for firewood to last her the whole winter, and even fixes the leak in the roof. He speaks fondly of his adventures with Merlin and what Camelot is like. Hunith notices he blushes at the name of a young maiden he befriended, he reenacts his knighting trial, and laughs at Merlin who dared forge a Noble house seal so that he may have a chance at becoming a knight. Hunith is sad to see him leave, but she knows he will be alright.

Chapter two: Gwaine arrives on horseback late one night. He’s flirtatious and easy going, happy to have found a new friend. “I see where Merlin gets his looks from, and dare I say my lady, you’re even more gorgeous” Hunith hasn’t laughed so much in a long time. She sees much of Balinor in Gwaines character; his disdain for nobles, his flirtatious nature and brash personality. The man is popular with the children in the village. He makes wooden swords and shields for them, teaching them the basics of how to defend themselves “against dragons and such”. Gwaine is unlike any other man she’s ever met, but she can tell he cares deeply for her son and is happy to call him her friend.

Chapter Three: When Gwen arrives with a cart Hunith frowns. She remembers the young girl who had arrived in her village years prior. All smiles and kindness. The young woman standing before her is quiet, withdrawn and ashamed. They don’t speak — Hunith takes her inside and readies the bed for her. Gwen stays with her for many months, and together they cry, grieve, and laugh. “Oh my dear girl” Some days Gwen is silent and crying, other times she seems to have found herself again. She works with the Smith family and shows them how a royal blacksmith works, fashioning jewellery for Hunith and the other ladies in the village. The day she leaves Hunith cries.

Chapter four: A young sorcerer arrives saying his name is Gilli. A friend of Merlin, and he is in need of a place to stay for the night. He’s been badly hurt in a fight with bandits — Hunith tends to his wounded arm as he tells her about his life. His father who died a good man, a sorcerer who never used magic for evil, and how Merlin is the reason Gilli changed course and is now learning to use magic for good and not for vanity. He is friendly, if a little shy, but she can see a similarity to Merlin in him. He only stays the one night, but she makes sure to pack his bag with some extra breadrolls and apples for his travels. Gilli thanks her as he leaves for another adventure.

Chapter five: Sirs Leon and Percival arrive on a warm day in the summer. They’re passing by on business with another noble house in Escetir, hoping to garner the Nobleman’s fealty to Camelot. They need a place to rest before they travel again tomorrow. “Gwaine and Lancelot speaks very highly of you, ma’am. And Merlin said you might be so good as to let us rest here for the night” Hunith gladly lets them inside. They’ve brought with them plenty of food and goods from Camelot, and have even hunted a deer which Hunith can share with her neighbours. The men are polite and friendly. Sir Leon helps her peel potatoes for dinner, and Sir Percival uses his strength to rearrange the heavier furniture for her. They talk amicably all evening, drinking the wine the King had gifted her. Hunith felt a surge of happiness knowing her son was in their company.

Chapter six: He says his name is George. He is King Arthur’s assistant manservant and he is travelling during his time away. His family lives in the village two days away. “Merlin said I might stay here for the night. If you permit it madam”. Hunith is not sure what to make of this strange fellow; his jokes are lame, his manners hard to describe, but she naturally allows him to stay the night. When she wakes in the morning, her whole house has been cleaned. The curtains dusted and pressed, the flowers watered, the kitchen stove cleared for smoke, and her dresses are hung in a colour coordinated order. She waves goodbye and hopes he might come by again….Perhaps in time for spring cleaning.

Chapter seven: The villagers of Ealdor have become accustomed to their local healer and midwife having strange visitors. They’ve seen knights, sorcerers, druids, and even some nobles stop by her house for a day or two. They think they’ve seen it all, until one day King Arthur of Camelot is knocking on her door. “Arthur! Hello dearest” She says as he sweeps her into a hug, kissing his face. “It’s good to see you again, Hunith. I don’t want to be a bother, but my horse threw a shoe as we were out hunting. Do you mind if we stay here tonight?” He resembles a young boy when talking to her, more so than the King he is. Of course she says, you’re always welcome here, dear. Merlin is soon seen walking towards his mother’s house, holding the reins of two horses, and a big smile “Mum!”

#bbc merlin #merlin #once and future idiots #arthur pendragon #merlinmylove #merlin emrys #merthur #the knights of the round table #merlin fic ideas #one day i will write this but that day is not today #I love George he deserves more attention lol

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henry7931 · 6 months ago

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Beach Trip As My Friend’s Uncle

Miguel:

This is by far the best idea Zach and I have ever had! A few weeks ago, my best bud Zach begged his parents to let me come on their family beach trip but unfortunately they wanted to keep it a family trip.

That’s when Zach and I got a little creative. We decided to ask his cool Uncle Derek if I could swap bodies with him for a week. Now Derek isn’t your ordinary uncle, he’s pretty adventurous, single, likes to party, and is always down for some shenanigans. So when we asked if he’s willing to swap with me, he immediately said yes! He seemed to be just as excited to be me since he’s getting out of the family trip all together.

So we all met up that morning at Derek’s place. Zach already told his parents that he’s riding down with Derek. And when I arrived Derek already had a bag packed for me.

We quickly swapped bodies and it felt so cool being so much bigger.

I grinned at Derek in my body who also looked super happy. He pulled me in for a hug which felt so weird, I could have easily picked my body up like it was nothing.

As I hop into Derek’s nice truck, he says to us, “You boys have fun! And doing anything too crazy in my body!”

“Thanks Uncle Derek!” said Zach.

“Yes thanks again Derek, I’ll take good care of your body I promise!”

“Good and hey I packed condoms just in case things get too crazy. Don’t need my body coming back with anything.”

Zach rolls his eyes while I felt a warm sensation in my stomach. It just hit me that not only do I have Derek’s body for a week but I also have control of his massive package.

We get on the road and I pull off Derek’s shirt just to show off his tattooed pecs.

Zach’s sitting next to me so excited and says, “God this is so crazy! I mean look at you dude you’re inside my uncle right now.”

“I know man, this is about to be the best trip ever!”

When we arrive to the resort, Zach and I head to check in. We run into his family. We say our hellos to everyone and I’m surprised by how good of a job I’m doing at pretending to be Derek.

We get our room keys and head up. The room is huge! We even have our own bathrooms along with a balcony.

I put Derek’s bags on the bed and open them up to see what clothes Derek packed for me. But when I get to the bathing suits only two of them are normal ones— the rest are all speedos.

Zach pops in already in his bathing suit and says, “you about ready?”

“Uh no not yet give me a few,” I say to him.

“No rush bro! I’m gonna head down, I’ll see you in a few.”

As soon as Zach walked out of the room, I immediately got naked.

I look at Derek’s nude body, that’s when my eyes focus on the thick long dick that I now control.

I try my best to control my eager to touch it, laying back on the hotel bed. I didn’t want to risk Zach walking but I feel like I only have so much alone time with it.

I look down at Derek’s sexy size 11 feet, they’re beautiful and manly. I trace his fingers along his chest down to his cock and balls.

His dick is already hard, I start to stroke it and it feels amazing. It’s my first I’ve ever jerked off in someone else’s body. And it’s so different from mine.

I sit up and bring Derek’s big foot to my face smelling his toes as I wiggle them. I start licking his foot, still jerking his dick with my other hand.

I feel so close, I knew I was going to bust any minute. I let out a loud powerful grunt, inhaling his sole before cum bursts out all over.

I look over the mess I just made, damn that felt great. I whip some off of his chest and taste it. It taste’s so good.

I clean off his chest with a shower towel and grab one of his speedos.

I take a pic of myself to send to Derek and say, “you only packed speedos?”

I get a response a few minutes later, “well you look sexy in them. Send me more pics 😜”

I feel Derek’s cock start to get hard again from his text. Is he flirting with me?

#body swap #male body swap #male tf

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silverstar70 · 24 days ago

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Fandom: Criminal minds Character: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

Author's note: English isn't my first language, I apologize for any mistakes.

Summary: It's Hotch's birthday and after enjoying a family day, Y/N and Hotch celebrate alone.

Warnings: 🔞‼️ family day, fluff moment, established relationship, smut, vaginal sex, consensual sex, oral sex

Word count: 5,522k Hope you like it and let me know what you think! Enjoy it!

Happy birthday, Aaron

The soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the room. Y/N stirred in bed; her body curled comfortably beneath the covers. Next to her, Aaron lay sleeping, his strong frame relaxed and peaceful. Today was his birthday, and she had plans to make it special.

As she began to wake, Y/N felt a gentle tug at the edge of the blanket. Glancing down, she found Jack peeking over the bed with sleepy eyes. His small hand gripped the fabric, and he wore a mischievous smile that reminded her so much of his father.

“Y/N,” he whispered, barely above a hush. “Can we make pancakes for dad?”

A smile spread across her face at his enthusiasm. “Blueberry pancakes?” she asked, her voice laced with sleepiness.

Jack nodded vigorously, his curly hair bouncing. “Yeah! Dad loves them!”

Y/N couldn't help but chuckle at his excitement. “Alright, but we have to be quiet. We don’t want to wake him up just yet, do we?”

“Nope!” Jack whispered back, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Carefully, Y/N slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb Aaron. She padded across the room, her bare feet barely making a sound on the hardwood floor.

They tiptoed to the kitchen, Jack leading the way. Y/N couldn’t help but feel a swell of affection for the boy. He was a blend of Aaron—his strong jaw and deep-set eyes—but with an openness and energy all his own. She loved how he looked at her, as if she were already part of his family.

She knelt beside Jack, who was now fully awake and ready to start their mission.

“Okay, little chef, what do we need?” she asked, glancing toward the kitchen where the faint smell of coffee still lingered from the night before.

Jack grinned, his eyes lighting up with ideas. “Flour, sugar, eggs, blueberries... and maple syrup!”

“Right!” Y/N replied, playfully tousling his hair. “Let’s grab everything we need.”

Y/N pulled out the flour, sugar, and eggs while Jack clambered onto a stool to reach the blueberries in the fridge.

“Do you think Dad will be surprised?” he asked, opening the container and holding it up triumphantly.

“I think he will,” Y/N said, smiling as she watched him spill a few blueberries in his excitement. “Especially since we’re making his favorite breakfast.”

With the ingredients laid out on the counter, Y/N turned on the stove and began mixing the ingredients in a large bowl. Jack helped, adding the blueberries with careful precision.

“Y/N?” Jack said, his tone suddenly serious. “Do you think Dad is happy?”

The question caught her off guard. She paused, looking down at him. “Of course, Jack. You make him happy every day.”

Jack nodded, though his brow furrowed slightly. “I just want him to smile a lot today.”

Y/N’s heart melted. “He will, I promise.” She smiled, ruffling his hair once more.

With the batter mixed, Y/N poured it onto the hot griddle, the sizzling sound filling the kitchen. The sweet aroma of pancakes soon wafted through the air. Jack watched with wide eyes, mesmerized by the process.

“Look at them!” he exclaimed as the pancakes began to bubble. “They’re perfect!”

“They are!” Y/N said, winking at him as she flipped the pancakes.

Aaron lay awake in the bedroom, feeling the morning sun's warmth on his face. He turned to his side, expecting to find Y/N nestled next to him, but the spot was empty. A flicker of confusion crossed his mind.

He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes. Glancing at the clock, he noted that it was later than usual, but not too late. Pushing the covers aside, he stood up, the wooden floor cool beneath his feet, and made his way to the kitchen, curious to find out where Y/N had gone.

Suddenly, Y/N and Jack heard footsteps approaching. The kid’s eyes went wide. “Uh-oh! He’s coming!”

The kitchen door swung open, and Aaron appeared. His hair was tousled, and he wore a t-shirt that hung fit on his frame. Y/N felt a shiver through her spine as she looked at the sight before her.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!”

“Good morning,” Hotch said still half asleep.

“Happy birthday, Dad!” Jack shouted, jumping off the stool and rushing to hug his father around the waist.

“Thank you, buddy,” Aaron said, leaning down to ruffle Jack’s hair affectionately. Then his gaze shifted to Y/N, and his expression softened. “What’s all this?”

“We made blueberry pancakes for your birthday!” Y/N said, her heart racing slightly under his warm gaze. “We wanted to surprise you.”

Aaron’s smile widened. “You didn’t have to do this, but I’m glad you did. This looks amazing.”

“I had a great assistant, right?” she said turning to Jack who was looking proudly at the pancakes they made. “Happy birthday, Aaron,” she said, her voice a gentle whisper filled with affection.

“Thank you,” he said with a low voice before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.

The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with unspoken feelings and promises. Y/N melted against him as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if time stood still, the world around them fading into a distant blur.

When they finally pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Jack’s voice broke the moment. “Ew, gross! You guys are being mushy!”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh as Aaron pulled away slightly, a teasing smile on his lips. After assembling the plates with three pancakes each, a few more blueberries and maple syrup, the three of them sat at the table and ate their breakfast between laughter and small talk.

“Alright, birthday boy,” Y/N said with a teasing smile as she finished tidying the kitchen. “What’s next on the agenda?”

“Well, I was thinking we could visit the Smithsonian Air and Space Museum. Jack’s been wanting to go for a while, and I thought today would be the perfect opportunity.” Aaron suggested as he was helping Y/N with the dishes.

Jack jumped up and down in excitement, his enthusiasm infectious. “Yes! I want to see the rockets and the planes!”

Y/N chuckled at Jack’s eagerness, her heart swelling with affection. “Then let’s go! It sounds like a fantastic plan.”

Once they arrived at the museum, Jack was immediately taken in by the sheer size and grandeur of the building. It was enormous, filled with soaring ceilings and grand exhibits that captured the eyes. The moment they stepped inside, Jack took off like a rocket, leaving Aaron and Y/N to share an amused glance.

“Catch up with him?” Y/N suggested, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Absolutely,” Aaron replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Let’s make sure he doesn’t get lost in all the displays.”

They followed Jack through the entrance hall, Y/N felt Aaron’s arm wrap around her shoulder, pulling her closer. She leaned into him, her heart racing at the warmth of his embrace. She couldn’t help but notice the way Aaron seemed to relax as they wandered through the exhibits, his expression shifting from the serious demeanor he often wore at work to one filled with awe and wonder.

As they approached the first exhibit featuring the Wright Brothers’ plane, Jack’s eyes widened. “Look, Dad! It’s the first plane ever!” he exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

“That’s right, Jack. They changed the world with that invention.”

Y/N smiled, watching the two of them. There was something heartwarming about Aaron’s passion for sharing knowledge with his son. She felt grateful to be part of their lives, and to witness these beautiful moments they created together.

After a while, they moved deeper into the museum and spent the next hour wandering through exploring the various exhibits dedicated to space exploration. Jack was particularly fascinated by the displays of rockets and astronauts. He gazed up at the towering models, his mouth agape in amazement.

After exploring the rest of the museum, they made their way to the gift shop. Jack darted ahead, searching for a souvenir to remember the day. Y/N and Aaron walked closely together, their hands intertwined, enjoying the closeness.

“I really can’t thank you enough for today,” Aaron said, glancing down at her, his expression soft. “You’ve made this birthday one to remember.”

Y/N smiled up at him, her heart fluttering. “I’m just glad we could spend it together.”

As they entered the shop, Jack rushed back to them, holding a small model rocket. “Look what I found!” he exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

“That’s awesome, buddy! How about we get it?” Aaron said, his pride for Jack shining through. “We can add it to our collection, right?” he asked, his voice warm and encouraging.

After purchasing the model, they made their way back outside, the sun high in the sky.

“Let’s take a picture to remember today,” she suggested, pulling out her phone.

“Sure!” Aaron agreed, positioning himself beside her and Jack. They stood close together, Aaron wrapping an arm around Y/N’s waist while Jack beamed with joy, holding up his new rocket.

With a click, the memory was captured. “Perfect,” Y/N said, reviewing the image before tucking her phone away.

“There’s a little café down the street—great sandwiches and even better views. What do you two think if we go eat something?” Aaron suggested as he looked over at Y/N and then at Jack, who was eyeing the model rocket he’d just gotten from the museum gift shop.

“Sounds perfect,” Y/N replied, slipping her hand into Aaron’s as they walked.

They made their way to the café, where they found a table near the window. From their spot, they could see the city framed by the brilliant fall colors of the trees outside. Jack climbed onto his chair, practically bouncing as he continued to chat about everything they’d seen at the museum, from the Apollo 11 module to the airplanes hanging from the ceiling.

Y/N’s hands found their way back to Aaron’s, their fingers intertwined naturally, in a perfect fit, and she gave his hand a gentle squeeze. The food arrived, and they shared an array of sandwiches and salads.

When lunch was done, Jack perked up, his face lighting up with sudden inspiration. “Can we get ice cream now? Please?”

Aaron grinned, casting a look at Y/N. “What do you think? Are you up for it?”

Y/N laughed, wiping a playful smear of sauce from Jack’s cheek. “Yeah, sounds great.”

As they finished their ice cream, Aaron suggested a stroll through the nearby park to savor the beautiful afternoon. Jack immediately agreed, bouncing with excitement, and Y/N shared an enthusiastic smile, lacing her fingers with Aaron’s as they made their way down the winding path lined with vibrant autumn trees.

The park was alive with the soft rustling of leaves and the cheerful sounds of children playing nearby. Jack skipped ahead, occasionally dashing over to collect colorful leaves or pick up small pebbles, which he quickly showed to Aaron and Y/N with enthusiasm.

At one point, Aaron and Y/N sat on a bench while Jack was happily playing in the playground. Y/N leaned into Aaron’s shoulder, both of them watching him with fond smiles. Aaron placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, his hand squeezing hers softly.

“Thank you for today,” he murmured, his voice quiet and filled with gratitude.

Y/N looked up, meeting his gaze, her eyes sparkling with warmth. “It’s been perfect. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world,” she replied, reaching up to touch his cheek.

Aaron bent down, his lips capturing hers in a soft, lingering kiss. After a few more hours, they decided it was time to head home. The sun was beginning to dip low, casting golden hues over the park as they walked back to the car, Jack’s chatter filling the space around them.

After they had tucked Jack in and gently closed his door, Y/N turned to find Hotch standing quietly in the hallway, watching her with a soft look in his eyes. She stepped toward him, her voice dropping to a whisper to keep from waking Jack.

“So… it’s still your birthday,” she murmured, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she leaned against the door frame. “What do you wanna do, birthday boy?”

Hotch’s lips curved into a small smile as he closed the distance between them. Gently, he lifted his hands to cradle her face, his thumbs brushing lightly along her cheeks as he looked into her eyes with an intensity that made her breath catch. Without another word, he leaned down, pressing his lips softly to hers. The kiss was slow and warm at first but soon grew deeper, and more urgent.

Caught off guard, Y/N stumbled back slightly until her back pressed against the wall. She found herself pinned between the solid warmth of his body and the cool surface behind her, entirely enveloped by him. His hand slid down from her face, tracing her curves with a deliberate tenderness, and she felt his fingertips trail down her side, leaving a trail of electric sparks in their wake.

Every touch, every press of his lips ignited something fierce within her. Her fingers tangled in his short hair, pulling him closer as her body pressed against him, feeling the need that mirrored her own. Hotch's mouth moved to her neck, his lips brushing over the sensitive skin, sending shivers down her spine. When he kissed that one spot just below her ear, a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, and he grinned against her skin, clearly pleased with himself.

He loved knowing every inch of her, loved finding these secret places that made her shiver and melt against him. But even more, he loved being the one to bring this out of her, to draw these sounds from her that only he would ever hear.

Hotch’s hand moved down her body, coming to rest at her waist, his fingers splayed possessively over her hip as he pulled her even closer. His lips moved back up, capturing her mouth again, the kiss deepening, their breaths mingling in the quiet of the hallway. She felt her heart pounding as his hands explored, each touch igniting something new, something deeper.

Her hands roamed over his back, tracing the muscles beneath his green shirt, savoring the feel of his strength, the solidity of him. It was a rare thing to see Hotch like this—unguarded, open, entirely focused on her with a fire in his eyes that made her feel like the only person in the world.

Finally, they pulled apart just enough to catch their breath, their foreheads pressed together, breaths coming fast and mingling between them.

“Still my birthday?” he murmured, a faint smirk playing at his lips, his voice a deep, low rumble that sent shivers through her.

She smiled, breathless, her eyes sparkling with a mix of affection and mischief. “Technically…you’ve got a few more hours.” She trailed her fingers down his chest, feeling his heartbeat echoing her own rapid pulse.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice laced with a tender intensity. He leaned in again, pressing a gentle kiss to her lips before lifting her into his arms. She wrapped her legs around his waist instinctively, her arms around his shoulders as he carried her down the hallway, each step deliberate, savoring every second of this moment.

When they reached the bedroom, he set her down with care, and she slid out of his arms, still feeling the imprint of his touch. She stood before him, her gaze meeting his, a deep tenderness passing between them. The quiet around them felt intimate.

Y/N leaned forward to press a slower kiss to his lips. Her hands ran up his chest, her touch soft, reverent, as she unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it down his shoulders to reveal the defined lines of his torso beneath.

Her eyes lingered on him, admiring every detail—the contours of his muscles, the slight tension beneath his skin as he watched her, the subtle rise and fall of his chest. Then her gaze fell to the faint scars scattered over his torso, nine small reminders of his resilience, his strength as her fingers traced over them tenderly, committing every detail to memory.

Y/N lifted her head slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looked at him. “You know, I could make your birthday even better,” she teased, her voice low and sultry.

A slow grin spread across Hotch’s face as he caught her playful tone. “Oh really? And how would you do that?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

She leaned in closer, her lips brushing against his ear. “I could show you.”

Before he could respond, she started to work on his belt, unbuckling it and dropping it on the floor before unzipping his pants. She gave him a gentle push-back, guiding him to sit on the edge of the bed.

He watched her with that same intensity and dark eyes tracing her every move as she leaned in, pressing a kiss to his jaw, her hands drifted down his torso, savoring every inch.

Y/N could feel his tension, his anticipation as she began to kneel before him. With his help, she slid his pants and boxers down his legs. Her hands brushing over his skin made him shiver. Soon the rest of his clothes followed the belt and the shirt on the floor.

Y/N’s nails traced light patterns on his thighs, moving closer to where he craved the most. Her hands traveled up his inner thighs as he was already half-hard for her. Hotch sucked in a breath as she took him in her hand.

His hand reached to brush over her hair, tangled in his fingers as he watched her with a mixture of desire and admiration. His other hand rested firmly on her shoulder, squeezing gently, and though

“Y/N,” he warned softly, holding back any sounds that might carry through the house.

She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with a playful challenge, and it sent a shiver of excitement coursing through him. “Be quiet,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “Jack is sleeping.”

Hotch’s heart raced as he felt her breath ghost over his skin, a soft teasing before the warmth of her mouth replaced it. As she took him in, his head fell back, a low groan escaping his lips despite his best efforts to stifle it.

The sensation was exquisite. Y/N’s mouth warm and inviting, drawing him deeper into pleasure. Her soft hair brushed against his skin, and he tangled his fingers in it, guiding her gently but firmly. “God, you’re incredible,” he breathed, struggling to keep his voice low as she expertly took him deeper.

Every flick of her tongue sent waves of heat through him, and he had to remind himself that they had to be quiet. Jack was sleeping and the house was silent except for his soft sounds and heavy breaths.

Hotch bit his lip, trying to hold back his noises, but the pleasure was becoming overwhelming. “Y/N,” he whispered, his voice strained. “Oh God…”

“Shh,” she teased, her mouth curling around him, and the vibrations sent another rush of pleasure coursing through him. She looked up, meeting his gaze, and the sight of her looking up at him, completely focused, was almost too much to bear.

“Just relax,” she whispered, and her tone was both playful and serious, urging him to let go. It was hard to resist her when she was so close when she was making him feel so good. Her mouth moved with an intoxicating rhythm, and he could feel himself teetering on the edge.

Hotch tried to concentrate, but every rational thought slipped away, replaced by the heat pooling in his stomach. The world outside faded even further as he surrendered to the sensations, her touch, her warmth, her taste, everything about her was exquisite.

He could feel the pressure building, his breaths coming faster, and he tried to hold back, to prolong the moment. But Y/N was relentless, drawing him closer and closer to the edge with each deliberate movement. “Y/N, I—” he managed to say, but the words caught in his throat.

She pulled back just enough to look at him, mischief dancing in her eyes. “What is it, birthday boy? Want me to stop?”

“No,” he breathed, shaking his head as he cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek. “Don’t stop. Just… please.”

With that, she dove back down, taking him in fully, and that was it. With a final moan, he let himself go, pleasure surging through him as he tried to stifle his voice, biting down on his lip to keep the sounds in check.

Her eyes sparkled with satisfaction as she pulled back, wiping her mouth playfully and looking entirely too pleased with herself. Hotch felt his face flush, both from the intensity of the moment and the thrill of being caught up in something so intimate.

He pulled her back up to him, kissing her deeply, tasting himself on her lips as their bodies melded together once more. She responded eagerly, her fingers threading through his hair as she pressed against him.

As they kissed, the warmth of the moment enveloped them, and Y/N felt a thrill course through her as she stood between Hotch's legs. She could see the desire flickering in his dark eyes, and it made her pulse race.

With a tender but firm touch, he lifted her shirt, exposing her chest to the cool air of the room. He leaned pressing gentle kisses across her torso. The sensation sent shivers through her, and she gasped softly, her fingers tangling in his hair as he worshipped her with his mouth, each kiss igniting fire across her skin.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against her, and the sincerity in his voice sent another rush of heat coursing through her veins. The way he looked at her made her feel like the only person in the universe, and she loved every moment of it.

Suddenly, he wrapped his arms around her flipping her onto the mattress, catching her off guard. She landed softly, laughter bubbling up as she gazed up at him, her heart racing with excitement. His expression was a mix of hunger and admiration, and she couldn’t help but smile back at him, feeling exhilarated.

Hotch wasted no time as he settled above her, leaning down, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both soft and powerful, his hands sliding down her sides, caressing her curves. His lips left a trail of heat that made her arch her back, wanting more of his touch, more of him. He took his time, exploring every inch, relishing in the way her body responded to him, the way she quivered beneath his mouth.

Hotch trailed his lips from her mouth down her jawline, kissing every sensitive spot he knew by heart. He worked his way down to her neck, where he nipped at her pulse point just enough to make her gasp. She could feel his grin against her skin, knowing he was deliberately taking his time, relishing the effect he had on her.

“You’ve had your fun,” he murmured his voice a low, rough whisper that sent a thrill through her. “Now it’s my turn.”

He kissed his way lower, between her breasts while he cupped them between his hands. His thumbs brushing over her nipples and pinching them sent shivers through her spine. He moved with such deliberate care as if she were something precious, something he cherished and wanted to savor.

His mouth moved lower, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses along her stomach, stopping when he met the hem of her pants. He kept his eyes on her, watching her reactions, and the intensity of his gaze made her heart race even faster. The warmth of his breath against her skin made her arch involuntarily, her body responding to his touch like a magnet.

He paused, looking up at her with an almost reverent expression, his dark eyes catching hers. “Tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, his voice soft and reassuring. His words were filled with the same care he always showed, the tenderness that went beyond simple attraction.

But there was nothing in her that wanted him to stop. Instead, she reached down, her hand tangling in his hair, silently urging him on. That was all the encouragement he needed. In one swift move, he discarded the last layers that were separating him and her core, which were soon added to the rest of their clothes.

He took his time, savoring the moment, kissing his way up her thigh making her squirm in anticipation, as he traced delicate patterns with his tongue, causing her to arch her back and let out a breathy sigh.

“Please, Aaron,” she urged her voice a sultry whisper, urging him on.

With a smirk, he continued, planting kisses along her thighs, teasing her as he drew closer to where she wanted him most. He loved the way she squirmed beneath him, every movement a testament to her growing desire. He could feel her anticipation, the way her body tensed and relaxed, a silent rhythm of need.

Finally, he pressed his mouth to her, and her body reacted instinctively, her back arching as she gasped at the sensation. The taste of her was intoxicating, and he lost himself in the moment, exploring her with fervor. He paid attention to her responses, his tongue dancing over her with a skill that made her squirm beneath him.

“Hotch, oh God,” she moaned, the sound echoing in the room, and he could barely contain his own need as he relished in the sounds she made. He knew he had to keep her quiet, the thrill of Jack sleeping just down the hall heightening every sensation.

“Shh,” he murmured against her skin, lifting his head for a moment to lock eyes with her, a teasing smile on his lips. “Remember, Jack is sleeping.”

She chuckled softly, her laughter laced with desire. With every flick of his tongue, he felt her body respond, her legs trembling as he pushed her closer to the edge.

Hotch’s confidence surged with each gasp that escaped her lips. He could feel the heat radiating off her, the way her body writhed beneath his touch urging him on. He was determined to bring her to the edge, to hear her call his name again as she lost herself in pleasure.

As the tension in her body built, he could sense the moment she teetered on the brink. He worked diligently, focusing on her sensitive spots, using the knowledge he’d gained from their intimate moments to push her further. Just when he thought he couldn’t wait any longer, she finally succumbed, her body trembling as waves of pleasure washed over her.

“Hotch! Oh, God!” she cried, her voice muffled as she pressed her face into the sheets, trying to stifle her sounds.

He continued, wanting to draw out every last moment, savoring her bliss as she fell apart beneath him. He could feel her tightening, her body shaking in response, and it fueled his desire even more. He worked her through her orgasm, savoring her release, his hands holding her steady as she rode the waves of pleasure.

When she calmed down, Hotch crawled back up to her, brushing a few strands of hair from her face, his gaze filled with warmth and satisfaction, and captured her lips in a passionate kiss.

“You okay?” he asked softly, his hand resting on her cheek, his thumb brushing over her skin.

She nodded, still breathless, her eyes shining with affection. “More than okay,” she whispered, pulling him down to kiss her, her lips parting beneath his as she tasted the lingering traces of herself on him. The kiss was slow and deep, filled with the passion and comfort they’d found in each other.

But neither of them was ready for the night to end just yet. He positioned himself between her legs, pressing against her as their bodies aligned perfectly. He held her gaze, a silent question passing between them, and she nodded, her eyes filled with trust and eagerness. Hotch pushed into her slowly, feeling her warmth envelop him, her body accommodating him perfectly.

“God, Y/N,” he breathed, his voice thick with pleasure as he filled her completely. Her body was so responsive, and he savored the sensation of being so deeply connected to her. She wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper as her fingers dug into his back, urging him on. With each thrust, he felt the world fade away, leaving just the two of them, lost in the intimacy of the moment.

“More, Aaron,” she urged, her voice barely above a whisper. The hunger in her tone made him throb with desire, and he obeyed, increasing his pace, feeling her body respond eagerly to him. He moved in a steady rhythm, each thrust sending them both spiraling closer to ecstasy.

As he sank deeper into her, he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, feeling the heat between them rise. Their breaths mingled, quickening as their bodies moved in sync, a primal dance that seemed to transcend time. She moaned into his mouth, the sound vibrating against him, igniting something wild within.

Hotch pulled back slightly to look into her eyes, their depths reflecting the raw passion they shared. “You feel incredible,” he murmured, losing himself in the moment, his thrusts growing more urgent, more demanding. He could feel her tightening around him, drawing him deeper, and it fueled his desire even more.

“Please, don’t stop,” she gasped, her voice thick with longing, and he felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him. He wanted to give her everything, to make her feel cherished and adored, even during their passion.

With each thrust, he could feel their bodies glistening with sweat, the heat between them building to an almost unbearable level. He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of her hair, mingled with the warmth of their shared moment. Every sound she made, every whisper of his name, sent electric jolts through him.

“God, Y/N,” he murmured against her skin as he felt her clench around him.

That only pushed him further, and he thrust into her harder. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him closer, and he reveled in the way her body responded to his every movement.

“Hotch,” she whispered, her voice thick with pleasure. “I’m close.”

“Me too,” he replied, his voice a low growl as he increased his pace, feeling the pressure build within him. They were both teetering on the edge, and he could sense the moment she reached that peak, her body trembling and tightening around him.

“Just a little more,” he urged, pushing them both higher as he thrust deeper. The heat of their bodies was nearly overwhelming, and he could feel the wave of pleasure crashing closer. She gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders, and he knew he was right there with her.

As they both soared into ecstasy, he captured her lips in a heated kiss, pouring everything he felt into that moment. Their bodies intertwined, lost in each other, the world outside forgotten as pleasure consumed them. The room echoed with their gasps, the tension snapping as they reached their climax together, an explosion of sensation that left them breathless.

Hotch collapsed beside her, pulling her close, their bodies slick with sweat and satisfaction. He kissed her temple, holding her tightly against him, feeling the warmth radiating between them. “Best birthday ever,” he murmured, a content smile spreading across his face.

Y/N snuggled against him, her breath still coming in soft pants, a satisfied smile gracing her lips. “Happy birthday, Aaron.”

As they lay tangled together, the room wrapped in silence, he looked at her, his fingers gently tracing circles on her bare shoulder. She rested her head against his chest, her breathing steady, calm, like she belonged there. Hotch leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.

“Thank you for today,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “For everything.”

She looked up at him, her fingers tracing a gentle line along his jaw. “You deserve it.” The tenderness in her eyes, the warmth in her voice, made his heart swell.

As they drifted off to sleep, held in each other’s arms, he realized that this was everything he’d ever wanted and thought he could never have again. Someone to come home to and to love every day. And on that night, he knew she was the one.

Tag: @sweetbearcolorgarden

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