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bread-crum206 · 2 days ago

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A Game of Hearts

Chapter seven: Closer Than Before

Summary: Y/N’s father is a VIP for the games, he makes a deal with the Frontman that if he marries his only daughter that he will continue to sponsor the games. However, Y/N is not fond of this decision as she loathes the games and in turn, loathes the Frontman as well. Will she grow to love him? Will he let his walls down?

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7 Pt 8 Pt 9 Pt 10

The rain hadn’t stopped since the afternoon, a constant thrum against the windows. The kind of weather that felt like the world was pressing in, making everything inside feel a little more closed off, a little more confined. You stood on the first level of the VIP room, eyes wandering over the cold, imposing space. It was beautiful in its own way, all sharp edges and dark marble, but it lacked… warmth.

You needed to change that.

The Frontman—still wearing his mask, as always—stood a few steps behind you, his figure tall and unreadable, like he was a part of the room itself. Silent. Unmoving.

“I’ve been thinking,” you started, turning to face him, your voice a little louder than you’d intended, breaking the silence. “About what I want to do with the VIP room. It’s… too cold. I think it needs something different.”

You looked at him, but he didn’t respond right away. Instead, his gaze scanned the space, lingering over the walls, the large, dark staircase, the bar area layered along the far wall. The way he looked at it made it clear that he wasn’t just seeing the design, but feeling it too, like he could sense the emptiness in the room.

“Like what?” His voice finally cut through the silence, low and steady.

You shrugged, trying to explain. “I was thinking of doing something like… Ancient Greece. Dark marble walls, dark green plants… a more organic vibe. I could make the models like Greek statues. You know, the ones with the sheer togas—more like they belong in the room, not just… standing there. It’d be darker, but it would feel more alive.”

The Frontman was quiet for a moment, processing your words. You couldn’t tell if he liked the idea or if he thought it was too much. His mask hid everything. His silence made it hard to read him.

“I think it could work,” he said finally, his voice distant but not dismissive. “The space is big enough for it.”

You felt yourself exhale, not realizing how much tension had been in your shoulders until it started to ease. You’d expected him to argue, or at least poke holes in your plan. But he was… actually considering it.

“I’ll need to see the full plan when you have it,” he added. “If you’re sure about it, I’ll get the contractors to start working on it.”

“Of course,” you said, your voice lighter now. “I’ll get something to you soon.”

You both stood there in silence for a while, looking around the room. It was still cold, but now, there was a shift. You’d actually said something, made a choice about this place. And he’d listened. He hadn’t rejected you outright. It felt… like progress, in a way.

Once the silence lingered too long, you followed him as he started to walk toward the staircase, down to the second level of the VIP room. You didn’t even think about it, just automatically stepping behind him. You both descended the stairs and made your way toward the couches, the massive TV on the wall. Everything in the room felt bigger, more imposing the longer you stayed there, but now there was a faint connection between you two that wasn’t there before.

The bar area was silent as always. You could hear the soft hum of the air conditioning, the sound of your heels on the polished floor. You broke the silence first.

“Do you ever get tired of this place?” you asked before you could stop yourself. “All of this… the Games? The power? The way everything just feels like it’s running on autopilot?”

You glanced at him quickly. You weren’t sure if he was going to answer or if you’d just overstepped, but you couldn’t help it. Something about the heaviness in the air between you both made you feel like he might actually understand.

“I don’t have the luxury of tiring,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet. There was no edge to his tone, no anger, just… resignation.

You wanted to push further, to ask him about the cost of all this—about the man behind the mask. But something stopped you. Instead, you nodded, accepting his words, even though they didn’t answer your question.

Neither of you spoke again as you made your way back to your shared quarters. The walk was slow, deliberate, like neither of you wanted to break the delicate silence. During the walk, you couldn’t help but think about how you’d been married to the Frontman for a little over a month, and you still didn’t know his name.

He knew yours, so what’s the problem?

The thought lingered in your mind as you reached the door to your quarters, and for a moment, you hesitated before reaching for the handle. The Frontman stopped beside you, his gaze on the door, but for a brief moment, you could feel his attention shift toward you. You weren’t sure if it was because of what you’d just discussed or if it was something else, but the atmosphere between you had changed—just a little.

You swung the door open and stepped inside, the Frontman following closely behind. You both moved further into the quarters, but he stepped past you, on his way to his office.

“Goodnight,” you said softly, the word feeling heavier than usual.

He didn’t respond right away. You were about to turn away when his voice stopped you.

“Goodnight.” He said, his tone softer than before. He seemed to hesitate, stopping in his place in the hallway.

He turned to face you once more, and there was a brief pause before he added, almost casually, “My name is In-ho.”

The words hung in the air between you like a revelation—something you hadn’t expected but that you’d somehow been waiting for. It wasn’t dramatic. It wasn’t some grand confession. It was just… simple. Human. In-ho. It didn’t feel like the name of the Frontman, the man behind the mask. It felt like the name of someone who was finally letting go, just a little.

You blinked, surprised, your throat tight. “In-ho,” you repeated, almost as if testing it, letting it sit in your mouth. His name. Not the cold title you’d been using all this time, but the real one.

He nodded once, short and simple, and then opened the door. But before he stepped inside, he paused for a moment, glancing back at you. “I won’t be hard to find, if you need me,” he said, voice soft, quieter than before. Then, without another word, he disappeared into the room.

You stood there for a while, processing what had just happened. In-ho. You didn’t know what it meant yet, but somehow, it felt like it mattered. Maybe not everything would change overnight, but this moment—this small shift—it was something.

It was a crack in the wall, a small opening that let you see a little more of him than before. And that was a start.

———————

This is chapter seven!! I have a few more coming tonight! Lemme know what you think!!

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#squid games x reader #squid game x y/n #squid game x reader #squid game #x reader #in ho x reader #frontman x reader #the front man #arranged marriage #marriage au #a game of hearts

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cognitiveoverload · 1 day ago

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I know who you are! (Aaron Hotchner x reader)

summary: Knowing a lot about serial killer cases can come in handy when the new resident who asked for your number is a little too familiar.

tags: witness protection era!Hotch, hint of a soft!dom personality, children's book author!reader

It’s an itch in your brain that you can’t scratch. You know that you have seen him before, you just don’t know where. A coffee shop? A grocery store? It’s killing you, driving you crazy, but no matter how many nights you spend thinking, you just can’t remember. How could you forget someone like him? There is something about him, that rare smile, those warm brown eyes that you can’t stop thinking about.

Then, as you are watching an FBI press conference about a serial killer on the loose, you suddenly remember. Of course. Your little obsession with serial killer cases comes with a lot of these press conferences and interviews, that’s where you saw him. And his name… What was his name? Determined to find the answer, you begin to investigate, searching for articles and videos on the internet that luckily doesn’t forget.

And there he is, standing on the steps of a police station, wearing a suit that seems so strange compared to the casual clothes he wears these days. He looks extremely serious, strict, and in all honesty, you can’t blame him. What he did on a daily basis must have been a lot to handle mentally, especially if he had a son to look out for.

The next day you send him a text to find out when he’ll be home, and to your surprise, he replies in a minute, saying he’s there so you can jump in whenever you’re around. It’s been over a week since he asked for your number at his son’s soccer match, but you only texted and talked on the phone so far. Yet, even those were enough to let you learn a lot about him, and you grew to like this man.

When he opens the door with that stupidly handsome smile of his, you begin to wonder if revealing what you know is a good idea, but deep down you can’t help yourself. “Hey. So… is this you?” you ask with a cute smile, showing him a screenshot on your phone.

The blood drains from his face, and his suddenly serious expression tells you maybe it wasn’t such a good idea after all. He grabs your arm—surprisingly gently, so it won’t leave a mark—and pulls you inside, then presses your back against the now closed door. “Where did you find this?”

“I knew I’ve seen you before, but for days I couldn’t remember where. Then I saw a press conference with an FBI agent about a serial killer on the loose and bam! It came to me as a vision,” you explain calmly. You’re not afraid of him, because even though he definitely looks like someone who could hurt you, you can also tell that he has no intention to do so.

For a long moment he watches you in silence, but then he lets out a sigh and takes a few steps away from you. “Did you tell anyone about this?” he asks quietly, although his voice is laced with worry.

Without hesitation, you shake your head. You’re not that dumb. “You recently moved here with a fake name… Must have a reason for that. I don’t want to get involved, it has more to do with satisfying my curiosity. Now your reaction confirmed I was right, and the case is closed as far as I’m concerned,” you explain.

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

He nods, then inhales and exhales slowly, his eyes carefully studying your face. The serious expression is eventually replaced with a much softer look, but he remains silent, as if he was trying to gather the confidence to say what’s on his mind. But it’s weird, he hasn’t struck you as the type of guy who lacks confidence. Quite the opposite, actually.

And then he speaks up. “Stay for dinner,” he says, his voice gentle and a little hesitant, as if it has been a while since he asked anyone out. Or was it that? You must be seeing a little too much into this invitation.

But then you realize what this is all about. “That’s your way of keeping me silent?”

He flashes a boyish smile at you. “Trust me, if I wanted to silence you, that’s not how I would do it,” he points out with a laugh.

“Was it a threat I should be afraid of, or… Never mind.”

“No, no, say it,” he tells you, the request sounding a little like it was an order. “Or what?”

You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, because why would you tell him what you were really thinking about? Hell, you feel ashamed for something like this even occurring to you, you won’t make things worse by saying it out loud. Maybe it’s time to leave, maybe this is the moment when you turn down the offer and walk out of the house with your dignity still intact.

Sadly, when you gulp and move to open the door, he steps closer to you and covers your hand on the doorknob with his to stop you. You must look like a deer in the headlights as you look up at him, frozen from terror because you feel trapped, but it doesn’t bother him, he just raises an eyebrow and waits for your answer in silence.

With a soft sigh, you try to pull your hand away from his, but he only tightens his grip around it. “It just had a weird edge to it, like the sentence had a kind of rated R meaning,” you explain, speaking so fast you hope he doesn’t understand a single word.

But he does. And that smug bastard is enjoying every second of your suffering. “Clever girl,” he purrs as he leans closer. “So, dinner. Now that you know who I am, the least you can do is take the time to one, tell me why you remember stuff like those press conferences, and two, give me some proper adult company.” The end of that sentence shocks you, but he sees the look on your face and quickly shakes his head. “Not that kind of adult company. Just a glass of wine and a conversation after Jack goes to bed.” You let out a sigh of relief, but that peaceful moment doesn’t last long. “Unless you want a different kind of adult activity, because…”

“Hey!” you warn him as you playfully slap his arm. “Just so you know, I spend my time writing children’s books, I need a hobby. Serial killer cases and horror movies are good for me.” He gives you a doubtful look, although there’s a teasing smirk on his lips. “What?”

“Be here at six,” he says as he finally lets go of your hand that slides off the doorknob. “And wear something nice for me.”

For a moment you only stare at him, but then you nod. Damn it, you can’t say no to this face. Anything you want, handsome.

#criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you

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everwalldigan · 1 day ago

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Once the idea of Damian becoming a doctor was planted in my head I CANNOT let go of it like it’s all I’ve been thinking about.

All I can see is Damian all grown up into his 6 foot something height standing there in a white coat awkwardly while being fussed over by the mother of one of his patients☹️. Paediatrics would be such an amazing branch for him too like (just like his father) he’s trying to make sure no child has to grow up the way he did and he’s so sweet and gentle with the kids, constantly looking for any signs of abuse or unhappiness.

He has a whole drawer of candy with vegan, sugar free, halal and all kinds of options. Kids, parents, coworkers, the media, the nurses, legitimately EVERYONE absolutely adores him and he deserves that and so much more. We’ve got enough vigilantes in Gotham and the world let ONE of them be happy just ONCE don’t you think he’s suffered enough? Plus he’s already preconditioned to withstand and excel under the gruelling working environment of medicine. After being a literal assassin and vigilante his entire life, working triple shifts at the hospital would be a walk in the park.

I really hope dc goes with that route cause there’s something so satisfying about a child that’s been trained his whole life to hurt and kill choosing to help people instead. I KNOW Leslie Thompkins is somewhere in her clinic with a big ass smile about to give Bruce so much shit about there finally being a university graduate in the family (she has to be double annoying about it to make up for Alfred being unable to cause I know he would be so happy that Damian is going into that direction. Karma for Bruce dropping out of med school).

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xhazzz · 2 days ago

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Jake “Hangman” Seresin x Reader

One… or a few more dates.

warnings: none, just Jake being a sweetheart.

summary: the first three dates

a/n: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LENGUAGE, so feel free to correct me if there’s anything wrong :)

masterlist || request’s are open

First Date:

I was sitting in the passenger seat of Jake’s truck. We had just left the Italian restaurant where he took me for dinner. I couldn’t deny I was having a great time; the blonde was a total gentleman and incredibly handsome—and hot. We were listening to his country music playlist while he told me about his life before Top Gun.

“See? Letting me take you to dinner wasn’t such a bad idea,” he said, glancing over at me with a smile.

“I have to admit, you’re not the fool I thought you were,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I’m a lot more than what Chicken ‘Silly Mustache’ Bradshaw can tell you,” he added with a laugh. “Totally worth promising to cover his tab for the week in exchange for your number.”

We both laughed, and I shook my head.

“Oh, he’ll pay for it, trust me,” I said, grinning. “Bradley’s like the brother I never had. I’m glad he’s back. When we were kids, we’d spend summers together. His mom used to take us to the bay to teach us how to swim.”

“Good thing you like the beach because that’s where I’m planning to take you next time,” Jake said, adjusting his grip on the wheel.

“Who says there’ll be a next time?” I raised an eyebrow and crossed my arms.

“You didn’t think you’d get rid of me that easily, sweetheart. I’ve already got several plans for us.”

“Let me guess, taking me to the beach is part of your perfect plan to get into my pants?”

“Come on, I think I’ve already proven I’m more than that,” he said, faking offense. “Though, if it happens, I wouldn’t complain.”

I burst out laughing and playfully hit his chest.

“And what exactly are we going to do at the beach?” I asked.

“We could have a nice picnic, get some sun, and watch the sunset.”

“Who would’ve thought Hangman was a romantic?”

“There’s still a lot you don’t know about me, darlin’. And I’d love to know everything about you,” he said, flashing that damn gorgeous smile.

Second Date:

A few days after our dinner, Jake picked me up, fully prepared for our beach picnic. The day was perfect, and who would’ve thought the pilot could plan such a flawless picnic? He brought an umbrella, a blanket, burgers, fries, beers, and sodas.

We talked while we ate. Jake told me about his high school football games, and I shared stories about constantly changing schools because of my dad’s reassignments. Every time his hand brushed against mine, it felt like a jolt of electricity. It even seemed like he was hesitant to touch me, but through his sunglasses, I could catch him sneaking glances at my chest more than once.

After swimming for a while and competing to see who could find the most seashells, the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of purple and orange. It was breathtaking.

“So, what’s next?” I asked, taking a sip of my beer.

“Next what?” he asked, propping himself up on his elbows. His abs were even more defined, and I had to try hard not to stare.

“You said you had several plans for me,” I said, crossing my legs. “What’s next?”

“So, you do enjoy spending time with me,” he laughed, opening his beer. “Tell me where you want to go, and I’ll take you.”

“Even if I want you to take me up in your plane?” I teased.

“I think your dad would kill me,” he said, laughing and sitting up straight. “But I could take you somewhere similar.”

“Similar? Now I’m curious.”

The rest of the afternoon passed peacefully. We kept talking and getting to know each other. I could see him glancing at my lips, as if he wanted to kiss me—which, for the record, wouldn’t have been a bad idea.

“Thanks for everything, Jake. I really had a great time,” I said when we arrived at my house.

“The pleasure’s all mine, darlin’,” he replied, smiling. God, this man was charming. “Is it too soon to ask for a goodnight kiss?”

I smiled playfully, leaned in—he was standing a step below me—and kissed the corner of his lips, teasing him.

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

Third Date:

“So, this is your idea of something similar to flying?” I asked as he opened the door of his truck. We were at the pier fair, surrounded by the smell of popcorn and cotton candy, mixed with the music and the screams of people on the rides.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like amusement rides. The adrenaline, the screams, the laughs—it’s the best,” Jake said, gently placing a hand on my back as he guided me to the ticket booth. He bought two tickets before I could even pull out some cash.

“Seriously? You’re not going to let me pay for anything?” I asked as he handed the cashier his money.

“Wouldn’t be very gentlemanly of me,” he said, grinning.

The day at the fair was a blast. We went on almost every ride, played bumper cars, marbles, and paintball, and stuffed ourselves with popcorn, hot dogs, and cotton candy.

“Hold still, you’ve got…” Jake said, leaning in to wipe something off the corner of my lips with his thumb. “There. All set.”

God, this man was starting to get to me. I felt butterflies in my stomach every time he touched me.

“Thanks again for everything, Jake,” I said as we walked toward the exit, my shoulder brushing against his arm. He even had the perfect height. “I’ve had so much fun with you.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” he replied, opening the truck door and helping me climb in.

The drive home was quiet but comforting. We listened to his country playlist until a Taylor Swift song came on.

“No way,” I said, laughing. “You like Taylor Swift?”

“I don’t know how that got in there,” he said, shaking his head and reaching for the console to change it.

“Don’t. Leave it,” I said, stopping his hand. “I like that song.”

Instead of pulling away, he took my hand and kissed my knuckles. And there were the butterflies again…

I could feel my cheeks heating up, and Jake seemed to notice too.

“Well, would you look at that? You’re blushing,” he teased.

“Stop,” I whispered, rolling my eyes and looking out the window.

“You’re really something, Y/N,” Jake added, placing his hand gently on my thigh and rubbing it affectionately before turning his eyes back to the road. Without thinking, I placed my hand over his, mirroring his gesture.

When we arrived at my house, he asked for a goodnight kiss again, and I repeated the same thing as the last time—kissing the corner of his lips.

“Goodnight, Jake.”

“Goodnight, darlin’.”

#jake seresin x reader #hangman x y/n #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun hangman #top gun fanfiction #glenn powell #jake seresin fanfiction #fanfic #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #top gun maverick

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minniesfiles · 2 days ago

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BLOOM WITH YOU | prologue

After nearly three years of heartbreak and disappointment, you and your husband’s dream of starting a family seemed out of reach. But miracle was a beautiful thing.

❧ PAIRING; wonwoo x reader

❧ GENRE; angst, fluff

❧ WARNINGS; emotional talk, mention of alcohol

❧ WORDCOUNT; 1.5k

▁▁▁▁▁▁

series masterlist

𐚁₊⊹

▍13 MARCH 2019

Wonwoo juggled the house keys in his hand as his tired eyes scanned the porch light flickering above. As the door swung open, you pushed past him with an exaggerated groan. The first thing you did was immediately slip off your black stilettos and drop them carelessly onto the hardwood floor.

You stumbled over to the sofa and collapsed onto it face-first, releasing a long, dramatic sigh. “Finally,” you muttered into the cushions.

The evening was long — way longer than you had expected. Your older sister and her husband threw a dinner party to celebrate her pregnancy. While it was wonderful to see your family and friends and enjoy the excitement of the news, by the time you got home, you and your boyfriend were utterly drained.

Wonwoo followed you inside, shaking his head with a small chuckle as he closed the door, locked it, and set the keys on the table by the entrance. The tranquility in your home was what you both desperately needed as the noisy evening grew longer.

“Rough night?” he teased, making his way over to you.

You rolled onto your back and glared at him playfully. “Not rough — just long. My feet are killing me. Why did I think wearing these heels was a good idea?”

Wonwoo smirked. “Because they look great on you. Totally worth the pain.”

You groaned again, this time throwing an arm dramatically over your eyes. “Says the man who spent the night in loafers.”

He crouched down in front of you, leaning over until your faces were mere inches apart. “I seem to remember you saying something about how much fun tonight was.”

“It was fun,” you admitted with a small smile. “But you know how my family gets. It’s like a marathon — Miyeon’s stories that continues on forever, dad’s terrible jokes, mum pretending she’s not already planning the baby shower…”

“And your uncle Han cornering me about investment opportunities for a solid thirty minutes,” Wonwoo added, his voice dry but amused.

You laughed. It was a soft, melodic sound that made Wonwoo smile despite his own tiredness. He leaned down further and tilted his head to give you an upside-down kiss on the lips. It was a slow, sweet gesture — unhurried, as if you both had all the time in the world. When you parted, you sighed again, but this time it was a contented sound.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you murmured with your eyes half-closed.

“I try” your boyfriend grinned as he straightened his posture.

He wandered toward the kitchen while leaving you sprawled on the couch. The sound of cabinets opening and closing drifted into the living room as he rummaged for something to snack on.

“You want tea or something?” he called out.

You lifted your head lazily. “Wine. Do we still have that red from last week?”

Wonwoo poked his head around the corner, an eyebrow raised. “You just spent the whole evening saying you’re ‘too old’ for another glass.”

“Yeah, and now I’ve changed my mind,” you said with a mischievous smile.

He disappeared back into the kitchen, and a moment later, you heard the cork pop. You sat up and stretched your legs out across the couch, wincing slightly as you flexed your toes. The stilettos had really been a bad choice, but they matched your dress perfectly, and you weren’t about to let a little discomfort ruin your outfit.

Wonwoo returned with two glasses of wine, handing one to you before sitting down beside you. You clinked glasses softly.

“To surviving the circus,” Wonwoo said, raising his glass.

You laughed. “And to Miyeon and her little bundle of joy.”

You both sipped in silence for a while. You leaned your head on Wonwoo’s shoulder while your glass rested on your knee. “Do you ever think about what it’ll be like when it’s our turn?”

Wonwoo glanced down at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “Our turn for what?”

“You know — for a baby,” you said softly.

Wonwoo took a moment to think, swirling the wine in his glass. “I think it’ll be chaos. But the good kind.”

You smiled, a dreamy look in your eyes. “I hope so. Miyeon looked so happy tonight. It’s weird to think she’s going to be someone’s mum.”

“And you’ll be the cool aunt,” Wonwoo added with a grin.

“Obviously,” you said with a mock-serious tone. “It’s basically my destiny.”

You both laughed. Your exhaustion was temporarily forgotten as you talked about the future. The conversation flowed from baby names to vacations you wanted to take before settling down.

“But seriously,” he said, his tone softening. “Did tonight…you know, make you think about what it would be like? To be parents?”

You took a sip of your wine, considering his question. “It did. I mean, it’s not something I think about every day, but tonight…yeah. Seeing Miyeon and how excited she is, it made me wonder what it would feel like to be in her shoes.”

Wonwoo nodded, his gaze fixed on you. “I think about it sometimes. Not all the details, but just…us. Having a little one. It’s kind of scary, but also kind of exciting, you know?”

You smiled at him, feeling your heart swelling at the thought. You could vaguely picture the two of you adjusting to parenthood together, having quiet moments with your child and laughing through sleepless nights.

“Yeah,” you said softly. “It is.”

You curled up against your boyfriend, and he draped an arm around you, pulling you closer as you sank deeper into the sofa cushions.

“Hey,” he whispered after a while with his deep and gentle voice.

“Hmm?” you murmured and looked up at him.

“I think you’ll be an amazing mum someday,” he said, and kissed the top of your head.

“And you’ll be a pretty great dad” you smiled.

“Pretty great? I was aiming for legendary” Wonwoo chuckled softly.

“Don’t push your luck Jeon” you teased.

As the conversation drifted on, your laughter returned. When your glass emptied, you stood to refill it. Wonwoo hesitated as he glanced at you.

“You sure you want another?” he asked.

“Why not? It’s been a long day” you said, brushing off his concern. You poured yourself another generous glass and returned to the sofa, sinking back into the cushions. Wonwoo watched you closely with his own glass still half-full.

You raised your glass to your lips and downed the wine in a single go. Wonwoo’s eyes widened slightly as he watched the dark red liquid disappear in an instant, and he set his glass down on the coffee table.

“Babe,” he said gently, “maybe slow down a bit.”

With the glass rim still pressed to your lips, you paused for a second. Your face was unreadable as you slowly lowered it. Your boyfriend tilted his head slightly to the side as concern flickered in his gaze.

“You okay?” he asked.

For a long moment, you didn’t respond. Then, to Wonwoo’s surprise, your eyes glistened with unshed tears. You blinked rapidly to get rid of them, but it was too late as a single tear slipped down your cheek, followed by another. You sniffled and brushed them away hastily with the back of your hand.

“Y/n…” Wonwoo placed his glass on the table and moved closer, his voice low and gentle. “Baby what’s wrong?” he asked softly.

You shook your head and pressed your lips tightly together. When you finally spoke, your voice was barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” your words trembled. “It’s just…tonight, seeing Miyeon, hearing everyone talk about babies and families and the future…it made me feel—” you broke off, your breath hitching.

Wonwoo placed a hand on your knee to steady you. “It made you feel what?” he pressed.

You looked at him, your eyes searching his for understanding. “It made me feel like I’m running out of time.”

“Running out of time? What do you mean?” Wonwoo frowned, his brow furrowing.

“I don’t know,” you said again, your voice rising slightly.

“It’s irrational, I know it is. But seeing Miyeon, knowing she’s already there, already starting that chapter of her life…it just made me wonder if I’m falling behind somehow. Like…what if we’re not ready when the time comes? What if we never get there?”

“Y/n” Wonwoo’s voice was firm but kind. He took both of your hands in his, anchoring you. “You’re not falling behind. And we’re not on anyone else’s timeline. We’re going to get there when we’re ready — when you’re ready. There’s no rush.”

You nodded, but the tears kept coming. “I know,” you whispered.

“I know you’re right. But it’s hard not to compare, you know? Especially with everyone watching and waiting for us to be next. We’re not even married yet”

Wonwoo pulled you into his arms and held you tightly as you cried softly against his chest. He stroked your hair in a gentle and reassuring manner.

“Hey,” he murmured. “We’re in this together, okay? Whenever the time comes, we’ll figure it out. And until then, we’re going to enjoy where we are now. There’s no rush to get to the next chapter — we’re writing our story at our own pace.”

You nodded against his chest, and your tears slowed as his words sank in. You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes.

He gave you a tender smile as his large hands cupped your face. “I love you, you know that right?”

“I love you too”

128 notes · View notes

sexy-monster-fucker · 2 days ago

Text

Mile High Club

Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

Summary: After a long case, and some things leading to leaving one of your coworkers behind, reader and Hotch are alone on the private jet.

CW: mile-high-club, drinking, childish antics from the BAU team while drunk, tit play, fingering, p in v, creampie

a/n: be gentle with me I’m still new to writing for Hotch— also idk what it is but other writers for Hotch have made him out to be a tits man and I don’t think I can deny that

Your team had been spread thin. Having the rare occurrence of an unsub possibly operating in cities way too far apart. Somehow sending half of you across states to investigate. Rossi, J.J., Derek, and Emily had stayed back in the initial state. Leaving you, Reid, and Hotch to hop on the plane. Checking everything out and finding the exact same patterns as the other murders.

Rossi had called after a few days. After accessing the situation, he thought it would be best for Derek and himself to come take the place of two of you. Thinking they would have some kind of expertise for the area, but also making sure no single group was obscenely outnumbered. Hotch had no problem with the idea. Wanting to get back to the original sight to look further into things.

“Y/N,” Hotch had knocked on the door of your hotel room, letting himself in like you had told him he could. Sometimes wanting his company. Enjoying hearing his deep, steady voice talk about anything. Causing your stomach to swirl around itself when bumps would prickle down your skin at how he said your name.

You sat on the edge of your bed still not fully dressed. Your lower half completely covered, but still only in your bra. You hurried to throw on your blouse as Hotch stepped in. Silently apologizing to him as you fumbled over the buttons. Dark eyes darted down to your bare chest, quickly going back up to your face. “Apologies, I didn’t know you weren’t ready for company,” Hotch craned his neck looking up at the ceiling while you buttoned the shirt. Noticing a soft glow on his cheeks.

Hotch was your superior. Leader of the team. And your not-so-secret crush.

One night, you and your teammates had all been drinking. Hotch and Rossi opting to not come along. You had been deep into drinking when a question had been brought up. Playing childish high school games where the boys and girls would ask each other horny questions. Derek, of course, being the one to ask.

“Alright— I’ve got a good one for the ladies. Fuck, Marry, Kill. Hotch, Rossi, Gideon.” His drunken smirk made some of you roll your eyes. J.J.’s jaw hung open as she and Emily laughed together. Penelope started to speak when you blurted out, “Definitely marry Hotch, so I could fuck him for the rest of my life.”

All eyes were on you now. Not caring with how the alcohol buzzed in your system. Scanning everyone’s facing to see some serious mixed reactions. You threw your hands up slightly, “What?!”

“You would wanna marry that hard-nosed tyrant?” Derek smiled.

You furrowed your brows, looking next to you at Reid. Seeing his expression being equally as shocked. “Wh—? I thought all of us would agree on that one! He’s a good dad, good physique, and~ a sexy voice to boot,” you counted on your fingers, not a hint of shame on your voice.

“But that’s not what you said,” Reid smirked at you. You looked around the table to see everyone agreeing with teasing tones.

“Yeah— you said so you could fuck him for the rest of your life, not any of those other things,” J.J. giggled as she bumped your shoulder.

“And— you didn’t even say your picks for the other two!” Derek laughed.

You rolled your eyes, leaning your head back and covering your face. Embarrassment finally washing over you at the reveal of your feelings for your boss. “Oh my God—“ you started smiling widely with flushed cheeks.

“Ah— look! You really like him!” Emily smiled as she sipped at her drink again.

And you did. The way he carried himself. The way his gruff voice could carry a room. His determination for the BAU and solving cases drawing you to him. It did not help that Hotch clearly had his eye on you as well. Gaze lingering on you in every room you shared. Attentive when you would present a summary to the group, never removing his eyes from you. Soft, rare smiles when you would crack some joke about his age. Words of encouragement when it was just the two of you awake on the plane. Eyes twinkling when he heard your laugh on nights out. Always finding his place next to you anywhere: on the plane, at the bar, in the office. Unable to forget the night you had drifted away against his shoulder after a rather grueling month of a case. Turning into you openly flirting with him from time to time.

Your little crush on him was more than meets the eye.

“No, sir. I apologize. I should always be ready just in case we needed to jump into action,” you finally got the last button up. Turning to grab your coat off the spare chair in the room. Catching Hotch’s eyes scanning your figure. You smiled.

“You and I have to head back. Rossi and Derek want to come look at the scene and I don’t want to leave anyone with small numbers,” Hotch said his stoic tone vibrating off the walls.

“What about Spence?”

“Derek and Rossi are already on their way. He won’t be alone,” he reassured.

“Okay, good. I wouldn’t wanna leave your favorite boy alone,” you joked walking over and closing the distance between you. Noticing his tie was not fully fixed. Hands pinching and fidgeting the fabric. Hotch stretched his neck, “What… are you doing?” His hand came up and grabbed yours gently.

“Since when do you not get finished getting ready?” You ignored his question as you continued fixing him.

“Guess I was just in a rush… with the flight and all,” Hotch relaxed at your touch. You knew better than that. Wondering what could have caused it. Not questioning him further. Softly flattening your hand against the tie before you realized how intimate of an action it was. Batting your lashes up at him. Seeing his eyes were already on your face. Heavy brow but a soft expression. “Thank you,” his voice was soft for the first time today.

He was just so gorgeous. You felt butterflies flapping around your insides. Wanting to press into him. Wanting him to pin you down on the mattress of the hotel room. Dying to see what he looked like while you had his dick in your mouth.

You had to stop yourself. Realizing the silence was going on longer than intended. Chuckling to yourself to ease the tension. Quickly pulling your hand away and clinching your fist by your side. “How long til they get here?”

“Twenty minutes. We need to leave now,” Hotch stated. He walked to the door, opening it and allowing you to exit first. Reid was out in the hallway, leaned against the door of his room. Arms crossed over his chest as he watched you and Hotch approach.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay?” You questioned him. Reid was one of your closest friends on the team. He was not much younger than you, yet you still felt like he was still so new. Wanting to make sure he was comfortable and going to be safe. Especially since things had gone down between him and an unsub on a previous case.

“Of course I will,” Reid smiled, eyes looking at both you and Hotch.

“Call me if anything happens,” you began towards the elevator, Hotch followed closely behind you. Silently riding down to the lobby together. Lips sewn together as neither of you dared to make a sound. Shoes tapping against the hard floor as you went out to the SUV.

“You driving or me?” You playfully asked.

Hotch did not look up at you. Staring at his phone, “I will.” That stabbed you. He would usually make some sly comment about the time you hit a light pole in a rush leaving a parking lot. But now he did not even look at you.

Replying with a simple “Okay” as you go into the passenger seat. Nothing was said until you arrived at the plane. Being greeted with a smile from Derek and Rossi.

“Hi, pretty girl,” Derek adjusted his sunglasses with his words. Rossi and Hotch stepped aside to debrief together quickly. Derek caught you up on all the new details and what caused Rossi to want to come out to this scene. This case was a tough one all things considered.

You caught Hotch’s stern brow directed at you as he and Rossi talked back and forth. Wondering why he was making that face at you. Clearly losing focus of what Derek was saying. Coming back when he repeated your name, “Y/N-? You have a whole flight back to stare at McDreamy, okay? Listen to me right now.”

You whipped your head forward, brows pushed together as you mouthed defenses. Closing your eyes and shaking your head to bring your focus back. “Sorry,” you grumbled as you crossed your arms over your chest.

“J.J.’s got all the files printed for you on the plane. I’m sure Hotch will wanna take a look first. It’s a heavy one so prepare for all the new stuff,” Derek tilted his head with his words.

Hotch marched over to you. Eyeballing Derek before focusing his attention on you, “Let’s go.” You nodded. Saying your goodbyes to Derek as you boarded the plane. Nestling up against the wall of the plane. Hum of the engine vibrating your ears. Comforting you.

You watched Hotch sort through files. Enjoying the comfortable silence on the flight. Loving how his hands looked gripping the folders and papers. Blushing when you thought above how perfectly his fingers would stretch you.

“So,” you broke the silence. Causing Hotch’s eyes to dart up to you quickly before falling back onto the papers. “Why did you want me to come and not Reid?”

Hotch’s movements completely halted. Jaw clenching at your question. Watching his fingers crinkle the paper more than before. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. Brow pushed firmly down.

“Spencer and Derek make a great team. Pretty boy and boy genius or whatever you girls say,” Hotch spoke quicker than normal, clearly lying. Just how you wanted him.

“Really?”

Hotch nodded. Eyes never moving from their spot on the page.

“I don’t know if I believe you… Aaron,” you smirked using the informality. That one got his attention. Laying the paper down on his lap and rolling his shoulders. Straightening his posture and crossing his hands over his lap. Fully focused on you across from him now.

“Don’t profile me,” Hotch’s corner of his mouth curving slightly with his words. Allowing his guard to drop if only for a moment. Tightly knitted eyebrows relaxing for the first time.

“Oh, I’m not. Just being observant,” you teased, sitting forward for your elbows to be resting on your knees. Becoming suddenly aware of your cleavage hanging out when Hotch’s eyes jumped down.

You sat back up, “Because if I was profiling you, you would be making it too easy on me.”

Hotch cocked an eyebrow at you, sitting with his legs spread wide open, “Is that so?”

“Seeing how you’ve stared at my chest twice today, I’d say so. Oh, and your tie this morning? I’ve never seen you not finish tightening it. And how relaxed you are right now. Your pupils darkened when you finally looked at me, and you keep fidgeting your fingers. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you wanted to be alone with me on this flight,” you smirked resting back against your seat to mimic how he sat.

Hotch’s brows raised for a moment as his lips sealed together, fighting an obvious smile. “Aren’t I just giving you what you wanted?” He questioned.

Your stomach flipped. Confused by what he was implying, “Wh-what?”

“Since we’re profiling… I’ve caught you staring at me more than once since yesterday. Each time I caught you, you would quickly turn away or wave at me. Clearly, a sign you were checking me out yourself. Or how about you not being ready this morning? I told you exactly what time we would be up in the morning. I did not arrive even a minute early and you still weren’t dressed. And given your history with punctuality, I know you’re not the type to be late,” Hotch crossed his arms over his chest.

God. He was such a good profiler.

Reading into things you had not even realize you had done. You felt your cheeks heat up with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Completely blown away with his talent to understand people almost better than they do themselves.

You crossed your legs tightly. Feeling your core aching. Mouth attempting to form words that could not escape.

“If you’d asked I would’ve this morning, Y/N,” Hotch tilted his head.

You felt your body breakout in a sweat. Refusing to question further on what he was referring to. Feeling your stomach constrict. Eyes widening while you looked at the cocky man across from you. Far too relaxed with the conversation. Your mind racing to tell you he thought it was all some joke. Perhaps one of your coworkers had told him what you said that night out drinking.

Hotch refocused on some of the papers. You chewed at your thumbnail. Going through every single possible meaning of what he said.

“Excuse me,” you stood and walked to the tiny plane restroom. Quickly closing the door behind you.

Your hands gripped the small counter. Veins popping against the bruising white force. Sweating as you felt the arousal sticking against your pussy. Flustered with your desire and how it consumed you.

There was a knock.

Your throat tightened. Had you really been in there that long? Lost that much track of time simply from dreaming of Hotch?

Stumbling over a “Sorry” as you pretended to be washing your hands. Opening the door to see Hotch standing in the doorway. Arm resting on the frame above it. Body blocking your escape. Eyebrows flat against his eyes. There was a silence as you awkwardly swallowed.

“Can I come in?” Hotch flatly asked.

“Y-Yes, sir. Sorry,” you attempted to squeeze past him. His arms came down and stiffened stopping you.

“That’s not what I mean,” his voice fell dark as he walked forward. Corning you in the tiny room. Strong shoulders and broad chest making you swoon. You turned your back to him. Going back to holding onto the counter. Hotch shut the door behind him, locking it.

Tension was high between you. The small room felt overwhelmingly stuffy. Your heartbeat was in the back of your throat. Mouth hung open just enough for you to breathe. Looking up and seeing him standing behind you with a look in his eyes you had never seen on him before. Falling back into the bowl of the sink. Steadying your breathing as you closed your eyes.

You jumped when one of his hands flattened against your lower back. Shooting your eyes open to see he had closed the small gap between you.

“Is this okay?” His slow and steady voice asked permission.

You nodded slowly. Unsure of what was exactly happening between you.

Hotch’s strong hands sprawled across your lower front. Holding your body flush against his. His nose tucked into the crook of your neck. Deep eyes staring at you in the mirror. Fingers groped into your flesh. Breath from his nose warmed up your skin.

Tender lips fell against your throat. Kissing up to your jawline. Melting into him. Body relaxing understanding the rhythm he wanted to start. Your hand went back to tangle in his hair when you felt his teeth graze you.

There was no way this was actually happening.

Large hands ventured up your chest. Palming at your tender breasts. Pulling a soft moan from you when his calloused fingers pinched at your nipple. Hands unbuttoning the top few buttons so he could slide down it. Large palms running down your chest. Kneading the plump mounds. Feeling your rapid heartbeat on his fingers.

“You’re a good profiler,” Hotch kissed your cheek with his final word, lips resting against your ear. Your body flushed with heat from the combination of everything.

You breathlessly questioned, head falling back against him.

Watching him smile against your skin with your distraught state, “Cat got your tongue, Y/L/N?” He sucked on your neck pulling a moan from you. His sultry voice had you melting in his hands. Eyes falling shut as you felt anticipation building below your belt.

A pinch of your nipple forcing your eyes back open. “Come on, show me how good of a profiler you are. Tell me why I came in here,” Hotch’s voice vibrated your neck. Kissing between your shoulder and jugular. His tone encouraging you to speak.

You swallowed hard. Mouth running dry with desire. “Y-You— based off you-your body language in the doorway, you obviously didn’t need to use the bathroom—“

“Hmm. You didn’t either,” Hotch cut you off playfully. One of his hands beginning to trace down your front. Circling your nearly exposed breasts and down the button line of your shirt, resting on the button of your pants. Pinching at it softly, as if he was slowly trying to undo it.

“An-And the tone of y-your voice tells me you clearly had something else in mind when you came in h-here with me. Not exactly HR friendly for m-my boss to be touching me like this,” you toyed with him. Dark eyes stared into yours in the mirror once again. His body swaying you back and forth slowly as he waited. Fingers finally undoing the button and sliding just the tips of his fingers under your panty line.

“Based off your er-erection pressing into my back, and the way you kept l-laying stuff over your lap earlier…. If I was to guess what your ac-actual plan w-was, I’d say y-you wanted me to ride you o-out there in your seat. But when I stormed off, you ha-had to go to Plan B,” you smiled. His fingers dipped further, ghosting right above your clit.

“And what’s Plan B?” Hotch whispered in your ear. Running his fingers through your soaked folds. Your fingers laced through his hair at the feeling, mouth hanging open.

“You’re gonna fuck m-me on the counter?” you moaned when he dipped a finger inside you. Curling and pumping perfectly.

“Good girl,” he praised finally sinking two fingers into your folds. Steadily sliding them in and out of you, hitting the spots inside you that had your legs wobbling. Thick fingers perfectly working inside you. Pulling repetitive moans from you. One of your hands came up to cover your mouth to hide the noises.

Hotch’s hand pulled your grasp away, “It’s just us. I want to hear you.” Placing your hand against his lips as his other hand pleasured you. Pad of his thumb flattening and circling your throbbing clit. Causing you to buck forward, a soft scream of a moan escaping. Fingers curled, hitting and scrapping the spongy spot that caused your legs to shake and breath hitch.

Abruptly, he removed his fingers causing you to whine. Hands on your hips guiding you to turn around. Small of your back bumping the counter as you faced him. Face flushed and panting as you attempting to look at his face. Having to tuck your head from his eyes. Feeling like an awkward first date.

Hotch nudged your chin upwards. Pulling your eyes to hold onto his. Leaning in and planting his lips against yours. Your hands ran up his chest, wrapping around his neck. Your fronts were pressed flush together. Lips sloppily attached to each other. Tongues slipping into one another’s mouth, tasting the other like it was the last time you ever could. Desperate hands held onto you. Fingers digging into the soft of your ass.

“Have you ever done this before?” You questioned as he pulled back to kneel in front of you. A soft hint of concern.

Hotch’s dreamy dark eyes looked up at you, smiling. Seeing his perfect teeth. A treat that only few got to see. He hooked his fingers around your waistband, pulling them down your legs and helping you step out. “Absolutely not,” he stated matter-of-factly with a slight chuckle.

You ran your fingers through his hair as he was below you. Warm eyes blinked up at you. Seeing a side of him you never thought you would. Looking soft and almost lovesick. You wondered if this is what he was like before the horrors of the BAU caused him to harden. Breaking through his hard shell, revealing some of the sweetest looks you had ever received. Under it all, he was a man who loved to please.

Your thumb traced his face, admiring him for the first time this closely. Noticing more beauty marks on his face. Clearly littered with stress lines from years of working. He cupped your hand in his, kissing it softly as he nuzzled against it. He adored how soft your hands still were.

He rose to his feet, hands cupping both sides of your face as he crashed his lips back into yours. Open-mouth kisses being shared as you tried to unbutton his shirt. Wanting to see his body. His actions were hungry. Hands coming down to grasp at your chest once again. Dipping his head down to suck on the exposed part of your breast. Pulling the fabric down to free your breasts. Sucking on your hardened nipples. Tongue flicking and rolling them around. Making sure he gave both the same attention. Kissing up your neck.

Hotch pulled your underwear to the side. Easing his fingers back inside you. Your entire body tingled with pleasure. Wrapping a bow in your lower half. You held onto his shoulders for support, pleasure surging through you with each movement of fingers.

There was a million questions plaguing your mind. Face contorted with curiosity and pleasure. Worried that this would all somehow comeback to bite you both in the ass. How deep down you did not want to just be a cheap hookup on the plane. Your feelings for Hotch flowed through you like blood. Taking up your entire being.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” Hotch, almost as if he was reading your mind, confessed. His normal unbending composure melting away as he delved into you. His words shocking you slightly. “I know I’m your superior. And I know this is completely inappropriate,” he kissed you once again, “But I can’t keep dancing around you.”

You smiled. His words heating up your cheeks as you deepened the kiss. Sensation of his thumb back on your nub causing you to gasp. You began grinding against his hand. Searching for a release that you could practically taste. Calling out to him, “Hotch…”

Hotch shook his head aggressively, “Aaron. I want you to call me Aaron.”

You smirked. Desperation written on his half broken voice. Looking down to see the outline of his hard-on pressed against his slacks. Rutting forward to grind against him too. Hotch’s air tightened in his throat at the feeling of any stimulation against his member.

“Aaron—“

“Oh that’s it. Sounds so pretty when you’re like this,” Hotch groaned. Rolling his hips against the place where his fingers entered you. Begging for friction that matched what you were doing to his hand.

Your hands fought the belt around his waist. Prying it open and undoing his button. Fighting to shimmy his pants down his legs. Exposing his strong thighs and boxer-briefs. Curved cock pressing against his leg.

“I want to be inside you,” Hotch mumbled between kisses. Heavily breathing. He removed his fingers from you, hands curving around the back of your thighs. Helping you up on the countertop. The perfect height for him to reach you. His calloused hands ghosted up your exposed legs. Adjusting to make sure you were slightly hanging off the edge.

Quickly, he pulled his underwear down. Cock springing free. Swollen and leaking with precum. Thick vein running up the underside of it. You could feel your mouth water and pussy clench around nothing. Your body craved him like he was some lost piece of you. His large hands stroked himself. Dark, amber eyes asking permission silently.

Hands danced up his arms. Softly stroking the hair until it met the half rolled-up fabric at his elbow, resting on the seam line on his shoulders. Half-lidded bulbs adoring your figure in front of him. Digits squeezing around the head as he lined himself up with your opening.

First he pressed only the head in, making sure to adjust to you properly. Inching further into you until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw hung open at the feeling. Rolling his neck and taking in deep breaths. His cock stretched you perfectly. Never expecting him to feel so good inside you. You clung to his back, nails digging into the flesh. His chin sat upon your shoulder as you stalled. Enjoying the closeness.

Hotch pulled back slowly, looking down to watch himself enter you again. His face contorting in pure ecstasy. “I’ve never felt anything this good,” he exhaled against your skin. Rolling his hips into you. Steadily finding a pace inside. Squeaks and moans fell from your mouth each time he would hit deep inside you. Head of his cock brushing the spot that made you see stars.

And he was good. More experienced than anyone you had ever been with before. Knowing the perfect way to get you clinging to him and begging. Lewd sounds of skin smacking together reverberated off the tight space. Sloppy as your cunt drenched him in your arousal. Hotch grunted with each thrust. Shaky breathing painting his figure.

“Hotch, fuck, Hotch,” you mumbled like a mantra.

Hotch’s brow furrowed and eyes locked with yours. Realizing your mistake and correcting accordingly.

“Aaron,” you made it more sensual.

Music to his ears. Apparent by the smile that overtook his red face. Sweat beamed down his forehead. His fingers that were previously inside you coming up to rub your clit. Causing your walls to clinch down on him.

Hotch smiled, kissing your cheek sweetly. Featherlight kisses trailed down to below your ear. “Are you gonna cum for me?” Hotch’s hoarse voice drove you crazy. Drunk on his high for you. Knowing if things continued like this he would finish soon.

You nodded. At a loss for words. Completely overwhelmed by arousal. Pressing your lips to his. Trying to catch your breath. Hotch’s free hand tangled in your hair. Sloppily kissing back and forth. Teeth bumping each other accidentally. “Talk to me, baby. I wanna hear that sweat voice of yours,” Hotch spoke in between kisses. The pet name twisting your insides tighter.

“Aaron,” you moaned, “I want you to cum inside me. Please…” Drawling out your words when he hit especially deep.

“You do?” Hotch’s brow cocked upward, his tone with a hint of tease.

“Yes, please,” you groaned.

“I love that you ask so nicely. I’m gonna need you to finish first though,” Hotch tenderly kissed you as his fingers hurried around your throbbing nub. You whined softly. The feel of him inside you causing you to be a mess. Hands coming up to grasp his face, holding his lips to yours. Lips interlocking over and over. Almost in rhythm with his hips.

The knot in your lower half was tightening like a thin rope trying to hold a ship to the dock. Straining to keep your composure, needing to relax and come undone. Muscles contorting at his bruising pace. Wanting to savor every single moment so that it would never leave your mind.

Fingers circled your extremely sensitive nub. Causing your legs to shake, trying to stabilize yourself by digging your heels into his lower back. Hotch adored the deepening of the intimacy. Feeling his cock twitch inside you, he knew he could not hold off much longer.

“I know you can do it. Let me have it, Y/N,” Hotch’s breathy voice rang through your ears. Even when he was buried inside you, his leadership shined through. Almost like he was coaching you through your orgasm.

“Aaron,” you squeaked. His tongue slipped between your lips. Hunger taking over, fingers firm against your sensitivity. You wrapped your arms around him, nails and heals digging into his back. Knot inside you finally releasing itself. Your walls constricted around his girth. You called out to him, unable to make any cohesive sentences or words. Babbling as your walls fluttered around him.

“Doesn’t that feel better?” Hotch grinned. Beginning to snap his hips harshly into you. Shortly reaching his own climax. White hot coated your still sensitive insides. Hotch grunted as he rutted into you. Holding you as close as possible waves washed through you both. Fingers bruising into your soft flesh.

Hotch remained inside you. Both of your chests heaving. Attempting to fill your lungs back up. Kiss swollen lips planting against his cheek. Feeling his skin bunch up into a grin.

“We can’t tell anyone about this,” his stern tone partially returning. Still soft and slurred with his high. His hand petted you. The softest you had ever seen Hotch be.

“Does that mean we can’t do this again?”

Hotch paused. Forehead scrunched in thought. “Of course not,” he kissed your lips, “It’s just not something we need spread around.”

You beamed. Cheeks glowing with excitement. Giddy that this was not a one time thing. Hotch’s brown eyes shining in then dim-lit bathroom. The two of you holding steady for a moment. Neither of you wanting to separate.

Hotch twisted his wrist to look at his watch. Expression falling flat when he saw the time. “We’ll be landing shortly,” he straightened his back. Both of you wincing when his softening member slipped out of you. Feeling a mixture of juices run between your thighs.

Hotch wrapped some of the extremely thin toilet paper around his fingers. Layering it so that it would be more absorbent. Gently cleaning up the mess between your legs. Jumping when he wiped up against your clit. Capturing you in a kiss as a semi-apology.

Hotch moved your panties back over your worked opening. Helping get you cleaned up and dressed. His large palms held both sides of your face. Smiling with pink cheeks as he licked his lips. Like there was something more he wanted to say, but could not get out.

You turned around to make sure you look put together in the mirror. Seeing Hotch watch your every move. Fixing his own tie and sleeves. Both of you patted down your tattered hair. Hotch leaned forward and placed a tender kiss on the top of your head.

The two of you took your seats next to each other out in the cabin. You rested your head on his shoulder, his arm laced around your back. Fingers twirling your hair. His other hand examined your fingers. As if he was trying to engrave them into his memory. There was only a few moments before you landed and got into the SUV that would be escorting you.

You leaned your head against the glass of the back window. Sitting what felt like miles away from Hotch compared to how close you had been previously. Silently being drove to meet your other teammates. Looking over at your boss. Causing his eyes to dart over to you as well. A closed mouth smile beaming on his face. Eyes squinting up as he reached his hand over to yours. Lacing your fingers together.

An intimate gesture that you imagined would be few and far between going forward. Thoroughly enjoying the feeling of your hands together. Loathing the thoughts in your mind that reminded you that this was going to be secret. Guilt of the inappropriate nature of it, by the BAU’s standards. But when you felt Hotch’s fingers tighten, it pulled you out of it. Settling in for the short car ride to meet your coworkers.

A hollow feeling settling in the depths of your stomach when he pulled away. All kindness and softness leaving his figure and expression as he straightened his back. Hands flattening his slacks and adjusting his tie. Adjusting your posture to match his. Eyes watching as you pulled into the parking lot. Seeing J.J. and Emily standing out front of the local station.

A silent look towards each other before opening your doors. An acknowledgment that once these doors were open, everything went back to the way it was before. SSA Aaron Hotchner. Your superior. And you, SSA Y/N Y/L/N, his subordinate. Nothing more than that.

Click of the car door had you greeting the other women with smiles. Nothing too crazy, due to the severity of the case. Noting the half-lidded looks directing back to Hotch. Emily’s teeth grazed her lip as she and J.J. giggled when you finally got close to them. You widened your eyes at them, cheeks beaming like a teenager who just got back from talking to their crush.

“Well, how was your plane ride back with Hotch?” Emily raised her brow.

You blinked.

“Uh— good… just, good,” you stammered softly.

“Did you profess your undying desire for him?” J.J. folded her fingers together and fluttering her lashes to mock you.

You rolled your eyes, smiling. Exhaling with the million things you could say. Knowing you never could tell anyone else. Catching the last glimpse of Hotch as he entered the building. Seeing his eyes scanning you over his shoulder.

“Can you brief me as we head inside?” You asked marching towards the door.

~~~

[END]

// Thank you so much for reading! This is my very first time writing for Hotch, and I really hope to write for him more in the future. This may be some people’s first time on my blog. If you have any requests, my inbox is always open! If you would like to be tagged in future works, please let me know!! //

{tags}

@megangovier ~ @bondwithme-murderstyle ~ @justyourusualash ~ @hoffmanfan13 ~ @kaysolai ~

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #writing #sexymonsterfics #thomas gibson #thomas gibson x reader #fanfic

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arcane-ish · 15 hours ago

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Season 1 Vanco, Season 2 Vanco and why I love both

There are people who will insist that shipping season 1 Vanco and season 2 Vanco is almost two different things. I don’t fully agree.

I wrote my “why I’m drawn to them” post in season 1 and even back then, for me at least the allure with the idea of the “one big happy family”. Of it being so close you could taste it. Of it being the ultimate what if. Of all the things that could be fixed if Zaundads were just real (in season 1: mostly the conflict between Jinx and Vi).

So yes, season 2 came as a shock of just how aligned the writers ended up being with the way I saw the ship even in season 1. And even in some ways I wouldn’t have dared to hope.

Still, I do understand the point that s1 Zaundads is a subtly different ship almost as s2 Zaundads. I’m just lucky enough to like both.

Season 1 Zaundads…

Season 1 Zaundads was broody and mysterious. Full of violence, veiled references and open questions. “I’ve heard this kind of talk before”, “There are worse things than enforcers out there”, “you had my respect”, “brothers and sisters, back to back against whatever the world threw at us”.

But also of evocative parallels. If in my ways Vi is Vander’s and Jinx is Silco’s, if they are like their fathers and yearn to be together, is it that strange to imagine a this being mirrored by Vander and Silco when you try to imagine their relationship? When Silco as he tries to ward off Vi is the one who draws the comparison to him and Vander over and over again, while Jinx questions how honest he really is in this regard?

And then there’s Silco and the heartbreaking parallels. The show starts with Vander changing his life to pick up his future daughters. And it ends with Silco ending up in a very similar spot, willing to value Jinx over attaining Zaun and losing his life over it. What can I do but question whether this falling out between them was really necessary if in the end maybe they end up in such a similar situation, which Silco himself seems to realize when he seeks out Vander’s statue.

And ah, the poignancy, that he seeks out the Vander statue at all to talk to it when he is so close to his moment of triumph.

Season 2 Zaundads…

When Season 1 Zaundads drove us crazy with speculation what happened between them, what they were liked, what exactly happened to make Vander turn on Silco, sesaon 2 answers some of those questions. And yeah, some of those answers were underwhelming, not gonna lie.

But! To me there’s still beauty in season 2. Season 2 on a Zaundad front is so much about yearning. About Vander’s yearning especially. It’s there in his letter. It’s there in how Silco is still in Warwick’s mind as he scours the mines half crazed.

It’s there in the little love shack and the jackets. It’s there in Jinx, the person who probably knew Silco best in the recent years says the letter would have mattered, it would have changed so much. It’s there in Silco, a sweet, loving Silco memory being the first thing that shows up when Viktor manages to enter Vander’s soul.

And there are other things, worth loving, the way Silco looks even in Vander’s dark red visions of him, the way the tease in the flashback to their younger selves, the way Silco is scribbling away and then of course … the AU.

The AU that has the writers coming out firmly on the side of “a reunion would have been possible” but also “a reunion is close to the best thing that could have happened to the world”.

This element might not be necessary to make a good ship, and it sure isn’t what I expected to get when I shipped them in season 1. But I think a shipper group or two can confirm that it feels pretty damn awesome to look at your ship and think: “their love changed the world and it made it better” (and you know, not just just in the sense that they are the ones that made it worse in the first place :p)

A personal take

People talk a lot about how Silco and Vander could have made up and how they achieved the Zaun we see in season 2, episode 7. Did Silco come around to Vander’s side of seeing things, or the other way around. I don’t have a problem with either approach.

But my personal preference has always been towards balance, of both parts of a couple being developed and important and worth cheerleading.

So for my personal tastes, I like to think it needs both of them. They are better together than apart. Their approaches are flawed are incomplete without the other. Silco’s approach is shit highly questionable (as in: I question whether the society he would achieve would be a very appealing one and not full of its own problems) if it doesn’t have some of Vander’s conciliatory and communal elements and Vander’s approach is shit without Silco’s zeal and focus.

#arcane #zaundads #vanco #vander #silco

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morgana-larkin · 1 day ago

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Alright so I got this prompt messaged to me by @dreamer-329 : Hi I have read almost all your fanfics and I love them a lot, I saw you are fine with receiving prompts and while I was listening to music this song came on and I got an idea haha

Hearing this song made me think that this would be a perfect club song for Melissa x reader, song is Mi casa su casa by Omar Rudberg, here is what i thought of but you can spin this however you see best fits, Melissa is out with some of the Abbott crew and she sees R dancing and is into them, they briefly bump into each other at the bar ordering drinks but nothing happens until R is dancing to this song and they look at Melissa(who is already watching them) and sing the lyrics while staring intently at her and dancing more provocative by every line they sing (I can see it in your eyes

This is what you came for

Baby, don't be shy

Because you got something I've been wanting

A long, long time

And I got something you've been wanting

That's no crime 'cause

You got a body

I got a body

Let's have a party

Mi casa su casa)

I thought this was a cute and smutty idea and wrote it over the holidays. I just finished it and I definitely had to edit it as I wrote most of it when I was not sober and some of it made no fucking sense. Hope you like it!

On another note: I’m working on 3 other prompts for Mel atm so be patient! Especially as I might need a moment after I saw the dress Lisa wore to the golden globes…😮‍💨

Mi Casa or Su Casa

Warnings: smut, teasing, teacher-student role play (small part)

Words: 2.6k

“I still don’t get why youse dragging me out.” Melissa complains as they all step into a bar.

“Because we all could use some fun after the week we’ve had.” Janine says excitedly and they all find a table to sit at. “I’ll buy the first round, what does everyone want?” Janine asks and everyone gives their order to her and she goes to the bar to order.

Melissa looks around the bar and sees a few people dancing to the song that the DJ is playing. She sees a few other people scattered around the bar, most in conversations with the other people at their table. Janine comes back a few minutes later and passes everyone their drink.

“Here’s to putting up with all the golf course construction.” Jacob says and they all cheers to that.

A couple rounds later and they’re all looser, even Melissa. Melissa then notices a few people walk by the table and she looks to see a few young women walking by. One of them turns around once they find a table and Melissa does a double take.

You decided to go out with your friends after you were ready to come back out after a breakup and one of your friends suggested a bar where you can all dance. You walk into the bar and you pass by a group of people at a table and then one of your friends decides on a table and you turn around to sit in a chair. You look around the bar and you notice a ginger woman staring at you and you smile and wave at her. She smiles back at you and then joins the conversation at her table.

You notice her keep glancing at you and then she goes to get up and walks to the bar. You get up with the excuse of getting the next round even though you just got the previous one and you go to meet her at the bar.

“Hi.” You say and she turns to look at you and you smile.

“Hi.” She says. “I’m Melissa.” She adds on and you shake her hand.

“I’m Y/n. Melissa is a beautiful name, it suits you.” You tell her and she smiles with a slight blush “So I’ve noticed this hot ginger staring at me for the past hour. Would you know anything about that?” You ask her and she pretends to think about it then shakes her head.

“Not a thing, but maybe she thinks you’re cute.” She tells you and you smile.

“Well I think you’re cute as well.” You tell her and then the bartender brings her drinks and she takes them.

“I gotta go bring these to my friends but maybe I’ll see you around.” She says and then walks away, with a slight sway to her hips. You watch her walk away and then the bartender asks what you want to get and you order all the drinks.

You go back to the table with your friends and then they ask you all about that woman you were talking to.

“I don’t know anything about her other than her name is Melissa.” You say to all of them.

“Then go talk to her more, or even go ask her to dance.” One of your friends suggests.

“She’s busy with her friends right now.” You tell them and they look over at the table.

“Go up and ask her to dance.” They tell you. “Or you can dance seductively and get her to come to you.” They add and you think about it and decide to do that. The next song comes on and you get up and go to the dance floor. You know the song that comes on and you also start singing as well as dancing to it.

“Well woman the way the time cold, I wanna be keeping you warm. I got the right temperature for shelter you from the storm.” You sing and move your hips along to the song. You also have your hands up in the air as well as everyone else who’s dancing and it makes your shirt go up and anyone can see your belly button. “Oh lord, girl, I got the right tactics to turn you on. And girl I wanna be the papa, you can be the mom, oh-oh.” You sing out and you quickly glance and see that Melissa is watching you and you smile before you keep dancing to the song. The next song comes a couple minutes later and you instantly recognize the guitar beat.

You swing your hips to the beat before the lyrics start and you decide to go a bit further with your seductive movements to see if she’ll come to you.

“Mi casa su casa. I’ve been watching you all night, over on the dance floor.” You sing out and you look at Melissa and you see she’s still watching you. You decide to keep your eyes on her while you still keep dancing. “I can see it in your eyes, this is what you came for.” You continue while you run your hands down the side of your body and you see Melissa grabs her drink and take a sip. “Baby, don’t be shy, because you got something I’ve been wanting, a long long time. And I got something you’ve been wanting.” You sing out and move your hips more. “That’s no crime cause, you got a body.” You sing while you point to her. “I got a body.” And then you run your hands down your chest down to your stomach. “Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” You sing out and turn around and wiggle your butt a little.

You turn back around and you see Melissa making her way over to you and you look back at her table and see all her friends watching her. She makes her way over to you and she puts her hands on your waist while you’re still dancing and you wrap your arms around her neck. She pushes you closer until you’re pressed up against her and the next chorus is just about to play.

“That’s no crime cause, you got a body, I got a body.” You sing and she moves her hands to your back and runs her hands all over while dancing to the song with you. “Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” You continue singing. “I got a body, you got a body. Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” She then flips you around so your back is pushed up against her front and she runs her hands down the side of your body and she starts singing the rest.

“I’ve been looking at you all night long. From over on the dance floor, I really want to take you home.” She then places her hands on your stomach and she starts taking over the dancing, making you move in time with her. “You got a body, I got a body. Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” She sings and then gets right to your ear. “I got a body, and you got a body. Let’s have a party, mi casa su casa.” She finishes singing the song but she doesn’t move away from you or let you move. “You wanted me to come to you.” She says and you smile.

“Is that a question or a comment?” You ask her and she gets you to turn around.

“A comment, staring at me while running your hands all over your body gave it away.” She tells you. “What do you want to happen?” She asks you and you shrug your shoulders.

“I haven’t thought that far.” You tell her and she shakes her head with a smile. “All I thought was getting the hot ginger that’s been staring at me to come over.” You tell her and then she cups your cheek and leans in. You lean in as well and connect your lips with hers. They feel fucking magical and much softer than you’ve imagined all night. You feel her hand move from your cheek to the back of your head and the other move to your waist.

“What would you say if I asked you mi casa or su casa?” She asks when she pulls away and you blink at her for a second before smiling.

“I’d say…su casa.” You tell her and she smiles.

“Let’s go grab our stuff and I’ll call an Uber.” She says and you nod before you speed walk to get your things.

“Where are you going?” Your friend asks.

“With the hot ginger to her place.” You say and then walk over to Melissa.

“Melissa, why are you grabbing your purse?” Barb asks and Melissa just smiles.

“I’ll see you all on Monday.” She says and then she grabs your hand and leaves.

“Can I stay at someone’s house tonight? Melissa is not as quiet as she thinks.” Jacob asks everyone.

You get in an Uber with Melissa and she rubs your thigh the entire time. Once you get to her place she takes your hand again and you quickly get out. As soon as she turns the light on to her house you get a good look at her and you’re mesmerised.

“You’re even hotter now than at the bar.” You tell her and you kiss her again. You trap her against you and the door and with the way her hands are all over your stomach and chest, she doesn’t mind. She then pushes you away, takes your hand and brings you upstairs to her room.

“You’re wearing far too many clothes.” She says once she closes her door.

“And what are you going to do about that?” You ask her and she smirks before taking your sweater and shirt off. You then go and take her blazer and shirt off before both of you get on the bed.

You end up straddling her lap and she unclips your bra while you’re kissing her and you help her take it off before she throws it somewhere in the room. You then unclip her bra and you throw it away without any care once you get a look at her chest.

“Do you like them?” She asks when she sees you staring at her boobs and you nod.

You go directly to her neck while you cup both her breasts and she moans into the kiss. You push her back on the bed and then you take her leather pants and underwear off. You run your hands up her smooth legs all the way up to her hips. You see her start squirming under you and you smile.

“Eager already Melissa?” You ask her.

“You were pretty much grinding on me at the bar.” She says and you snort. You then bend down and wrap your mouth around a nipple and she moans out. You switch to her other nipple and you can tell she needs it bad.

“When was the last time you had sex with someone?” You ask her and she sighs.

“A few months.” She says and you hum.

“Really? You look like someone who can’t go that long without it and someone who can get someone no problem.” You tell her.

“You’re right, and yet you’re making me wait.” She tells you and you smirk. “I mean if you won’t do anything then I’ll just- oh god.” You cut her off by circling her clit and she’s now whimpering and gasping underneath you. You’re slowly circling her clit as you want to see her slowly come undone and also have her beg for more. You watch as she squirms, trying to get her high quicker but you’re not letting her. “Please, please go faster.” She begs and you smirk before circling her clit faster.

You feel her entire body under you and you listen to her as she comes and you don’t stop. You insert 2 fingers in her dripping centre and start fingering her while circling her clit. She gasps out and bucks her hips when you insert two fingers and starts moaning at the sensitivity.

“Oh god.” She begins saying like a mantra as she gets close to her second orgasm. She squeezes around your fingers and then she comes again and she holds your hand and gets you to pull out. You then lick your fingers and taste her and you moan at the taste.

“You taste good.” You tell her and she pulls you down to her.

“You think so?” She asks and you nod. She then pulls you into a kiss and tastes herself mixed with the taste of your mouth and she loves it. “Take the rest of your clothes off.” She orders and you immediately obey. “So obedient.” She smirks as you take your pants off.

“Something about you and your tone that makes me want to obey.” You tell her and she hums.

“Wish my second graders were like that as well.” She tells you and you tilt your head.

“You’re a teacher?” You ask her and she nods. “That’s so hot.” You tell her and then kiss her.

You feel her move her hand down and then she starts circling your clit and getting you all wet before she inserts a finger in your entrance. You moan into the kiss and then she slips another one in and then starts pumping in and out of you.

“What do you find hot about me being a teacher?” She asks and you have to take a few seconds to think about what she just asked you.

“I think it’s more about thinking of you…teaching me a lesson.” You say in between moans and she smirks.

“Why would you need to get taught a lesson? Have you been a bad girl?” She asks and she feels you get wetter after saying that. She then pulls out of you and flips you both so that she’s on top. She sticks her fingers back inside of you and she smiles at you gasping and moaning. “Be a good girl for your teacher and do as I say.” She tells you and you whimper while all the moisture goes right to your pussy. “Are you that excited to be a good girl for me?” She asks and you nod. She then curls her fingers inside of you and you start seeing stars.

“I’m so close, I’m so close.” You tell her and she feels you clench around her fingers and she moans at the feeling.

“Be a good girl and come for me.” She tells you and you immediately come, like the good girl you are.

She gets in bed beside you after helping you clean yourself up and she wraps and arm around you and you both fall asleep. The next morning Melissa wakes up and sees you’re already gone and she sighs. She walks downstairs, a bit weirdly due to last night and she sees a note.

‘Last night was fun, txt me ;)

xxx-xxx-xxxx’

She reads it with a smile and immediately puts your number in her phone and texts you.

Melissa: Hey, it’s the hot ginger. I noticed there was a girl missing in my bed this morning.

She texts it to you and then she goes to get breakfast ready but then gets a notification and sees it’s from you.

You: Hey hot ginger, maybe that should be your name in my phone 😉

You: Sorry I left, I had plans with my parents this morning but I’d like to do it again sometime if you also want to as well

Melissa: Yes I’d love to, just one question

You: What’s that?

Melissa: Mi casa or su casa?

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

@midnight-lestrange

@dashbag-art

@morgananyx

@schmentisgf

@cblanchetts

Let me know if you want to be added!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfic #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter #law #x reader #abbott elementary #fanfic

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moonshynecybin · 2 days ago

Note

honeysuckle: how our love unites enemies

honeysuckle:

scream okay i just edited some of airport au before getting these so it was rattling around in my head. and this ask made me think it would be funny if casey stoner showed up. so here. bad comedy. for those who do not remember last we left marc “the weirdest rumor i ever heard about myself was that i was gay” marquez, he had just had a sex dream about valentino rossi, who has recentlyish decided to be his friend again. as you can imagine he’s a bit confused about all this:

Marc decides that he should probably avoid Valentino for a while, after a dream like that. Get some distance and get his head on straight.

The problem is, Valentino apparently very much does not want to avoid Marc.

It’s in the chaos of the flyaways, that long slog at the end of the season, and Marc doesn’t have anything to prove at this point except for all the different things that he does, and it’s Phillip Island, a track where he can make a difference. He knows he has an opportunity where he can really sink his teeth into something here.

All said, it’s his favorite track, he’s looking forward to the weekend— and he’s really looking forward to approximately 9,000 miles between him and Valentino Rossi and his long fingers.

Which of course means that when he wheels around a corner on his scooter that Friday, he doesn’t expect to see Vale standing next to the media center with a day old scruff decorating the cut of his jaw and Casey goddamn Stoner bitching away about aero at his elbow.

Marc, shocked and in his raincoat, applies the brake to his scooter in an acute fashion and skids a little, motocross style.

Vale, under his neon yellow umbrella and always attracted to the sound of screeching rubber, sees him.

He starts walking.

Horrifically, Casey follows.

Marc smiles.

“I’ve been cornered.”

“Put your hands up in the name of the law,” Vale says in a terrible imitation of a cowboy, and then greets him. “Ah, you are ready for tomorrow?”

Marc nods before he can tell his neck what to do.

“Looks like no practice today, and more rain,” What would he normally say to Valentino. Well, normally he wouldn’t say anything. So that’s probably not a viable strategy.

“That’s good for you, yes?” Vale says, blue eyes intent on him, like he’s genuinely interested.He steps close to Marc, including him under his umbrella, and Marc tightens his fingers hard on the handlebars of the scooter. “Less practice for others and then— with the rain, easier to catch? A left-hand circuit, so you have more room to outpace the factory bikes.”

Casey, walking slowly, arrives in time to catch the tail end of Vale’s statement, and his eyebrows twitch up, gaze ping-ponging back and forth between them.

Marc waves.

Vale, though blunt, is not wrong, and Marc will take a win in the wet of it comes to that, but the forecast clears as the weekend progresses, and the thing he’s really missing so far this year is a clean win. No wet, no sand, just him and the motorcycle and everyone else behind him. The GP23, despite being unequivocally weaker after he exploded in Indonesia and they removed his improved flywheel, is still a bike that he has enough experience on that he can use his style a bit more and manipulate it the way he needs to, so the parts change hasn’t made too much of an impact on his pace. Plus, this is also one of Pecco’s more mediocre tracks, something he knows that Vale knows but will never say to Marc. Honestly, if it’s not for Pecco or the floundering VR46 team squad (unlikely), he has no idea why Vale is here. Maybe Casey invited him to do some dirt track.

He opens his mouth to twist all this into something shiny enough that it can be outwardly verbalized to two other world champions when Casey, so far neglected by Vale, speaks.

“Wow. You know, I really didn’t believe it.”

They pause.

“That you two had made up again, I mean,” He throws a thumb Vale’s way. “I thought this one would take it to his grave, he’s good at that.”

Marc hits him with a weak smile and Vale doesn’t even look over, eyes still on Marc and whatever he sees on his face.

Casey seems to notice, and a divot appears between his eyebrows. Marc scrambles to find something to say that will make this interaction end in the next ten seconds.

“Um, so what convinced you that he wasn’t evil?” Casey asks. So much for that dream.

“Same thing that convinced me that you weren’t,” Vale quips.

“Jury’s still out, then?”

Vale puts a hand on Marc’s shoulder and laughs at Casey beatifically. “Ah, no. Maybe he is just prettier than you? Better in bed, you know.”

Marc laughs, high and shrill, and Casey and Vale both turn to look at him.

“Okay, Marc?” Casey asks, and Marc nods. It’s a normal joke— it’s the kind Vale’s made before. About him, about Jorge Lorenzo, probably about Casey. If 20 year old Marc were here right now, he would just be thrilled that Vale was teasing Casey and using Marc to do it. That idiot would sit here and smile and think about women when he went home to jack off and go on with his day. No such pleasures for 31 year old Marc.

He swallows. He hasn’t responded quick enough. Vale’s eyes narrow, and Marc feels horribly exposed. He’s gotta get out of here.

“Yeah, yeah. Something in my throat, you know? Gresini— uh, they need me in the box, I have to go over something. For tomorrow, the sprint. So. I should go. It was nice seeing you both, I’ll see you later— “

He punches the gas, and as they scramble away from the scooter to avoid getting any toes caught in the crossfire, he zooms away before he can hear their responses.

When Vale’s hand slides off of Marc’s shoulder as he accelerates, the places where his fingers touched Marc burn all the way back to the garage.

#vale imitating a cowboy call that a spaghetti western #motogp #callie speaks #asks #did this answer your prompt no not really. but casey is like what is UP with those guys lmao #vale is not there to see casey btw. if that wasn’t obvious. he is stalking marc 9000 miles away bc he likes him like a CHUMP #i have an anon message abt this world that is in my drafts… i will get to u i WILL…#rosquez #my fic #prompts #airport au

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themiserablechick · 3 days ago

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NSFW

CW: unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), talk of virginity, mention of oral female receiving

A/N: um I feel like randomly I’ve been getting a lot of followers so thank you!! This is the last of the drafts I have that were finished and had any real ideas behind them. I really am trying to be a better writer and I’ve never posted smut before so I won’t be offended if you guys tell me something sucks, also my inbox is always open!!

Art wasn’t a virgin. Actually you were 80% sure Art wasn’t a virgin but it actually never dawned on you to ask. He has such a sweet face and his ears turn pink when you compliment him. You were thinking about all of this while your hands were on his shoulders as you hovered above him. When you sank down on top of him he sucked in a breath and fisted the sheets. The stretched surprised you too you had to suppress a small whine.

“You can touch me you know-“ you whispered

“I right- I know that.” His hands flattened and curved at your waist. You tried to lift your hips and he sucked in a breath his hands stilling you

“Are you ok?”

He nodded “yeah I just- I don’t want to come yet so can you just not move for a second” his ears turned red. You just smiled and nodded maybe, he is a virgin.

He looked down for a moment then back up “ok”

“Ok I can move?”

He nodded

You used your hands on his shoulders to help you bounce softly. He looked up at you dazed but his fingers bruised into your skin. His hands strayed to explore up to your breast his thumb caught your nipple stroking back and forth making your breath hitch. His hands drifting to your ass helping your movements. He decided the best place for his hands were your waist so he could lean forward and suck your nipples. You could feel when he got close because he hid his face in your shoulder and you could feel him throbbing inside you. He grips your waist tighter

“I’m gonna-fuck is it ok if I?” He spoke into the nape of your neck

You just nodded you knew the point he was getting at and heat was stirring in you too

“Mhm” you grab his face “hey let me see”

You saw his eyes peer up at you big and blue you leaned forward to kiss him And that’s what does it he’s whimpering into your mouth and you feel him come inside you warmth filling you.

He rested his head on your shoulder “You didn’t come did you?” You shook your head softly. You couldn’t see him but you knew his face was flushing “m’sorry” he mumble into your skin

“It’s ok” you ran your hands in his hair and made him look at you again, he really was so cute

“I-I can still help you if you want?” And then you thought that maybe he wasn’t a virgin because he ate you out like he got paid. Slick covering all of his face moaning into you, lapping over and over again until it became to much. You fisted his curls and that only made him groan against you his hips bucking into the sheets.

#challengers #art donaldson #art donalson x reader #art donaldson smut

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sugirashi · 3 days ago

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I’ve seen a distinct lack of nuance when it comes to discussions about Silent Hill 2, more specifically in regard to James as a character. It’s very easy to oversimplify his motivations/actions, when looking at it through a lens of bad actions = bad person. While there’s no justification for him murdering Mary, people often mischaracterize her death being the cause of James hating her.

I’m in no way saying people can’t dislike James, but a lot of the hate I’ve seen reflect misunderstanding his character and really the entire game as a whole. More specifically Ive seen the argument that he was motivated by sexual repression, and since Mary he was sick he hated that he lost that intimacy. But that in itself ignores the core theme of his guilt and how ultimately he didn’t hate Mary, if James killed without remorse then nothing would be drawing him to Silent Hill. He’s facing his guilt, that’s the whole reason characters like Pyramid Head exist in the first place. That same mischaracterization also ignores the significance of different endings and what each of them reflect on James. If he truly hated Mary, he wouldn’t have gone to Silent Hill, especially when considering that he originally went there to kill himself, and how he does in the “In Water” ending.

A scene that’s been used to “support” the idea that James hated her was when he states that he did hate her. But, that scene itself is surrounded by context which shows that while he may have began to hate aspects of Mary (I.e her sickness, and also the abusive tendencies she had during that time), he didn’t truly feel that way. Even Mary herself asks “Then why do you look so sad?” because it wouldn’t make any sense to have James go to Silent Hill if he didn’t care about Mary in the first place. I just find it a bit irritating that people who insist James hated Mary are the same people who think others have misunderstood the game if they like James.

Media literacy has reached an all time low, It’s a shame that a character like James is oversimplified in conversations regarding his morality, because I think it shows that people are willing to accept that a person is just bad because of wrongful action without considering how context may change the discussion.

I think if a person is really stuck in the belief that James never cared for Mary, they experienced Silent Hill with their eyes closed. Because story wise that doesn’t make sense for anything that happens, and does a disservice to the game and how it’s meant to be layered and doesn’t just draw on a single meaning.

#txt #silent hill #silent hill 2 #james sunderland

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riddlessecretss · 20 hours ago

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Come to bed, cariño.

Carlos sainz x !painter!reader.

Wc-630.

Warnings- just some kisses, just fluff.

Summary- Staying up late to finish your painting before the deadline until Carlos gets too needy.

You listen to your music singing along adding white strokes to help let the water waves shine. This past week has been very stressful trying to get all your artworks done, your are now starting your fifth piece out of eight. Carlos hasn’t had a problem with you being in your art room 24/7 since he has so many workshops and media trips, but at night you both made a promise to go bed on time with each other if we are together. So when you are late to cuddle with him he comes looking for you.

“Baby? Come on let’s get some sleep you can finish this tommorow!” He rushes you sweetly, waiting for you to make a move before realising you have headphones on. You take them of feeling Carlos’ hands warm a place on your shoulders. “Hey guapo, you ok?” ~handsome~ You look up to see Carlos’ wet hair.

“Yeah, are you coming to bed I want to hear about your day cariño, hmm?” He smiles and kisses your cheek.

“Yes im coming darling I just need to finish this, all I have to do is add varnish now.”

You get up aiming to get the varnish but Carlos grabs it and holds it above your head. “Carlos I know what you’re doing but if I leave the varnish for tomorrow it won’t set in time, I need to do this, this is my job!” You get on your tip toes pulling his arm down to try and grab the bottle.

“You don’t need a job anyway, you know I can aid you for the rest of your life. Come on baby.” He whispers the last part while leaning down to hug you.

You take this opportunity to grab the bottle from his hands and kiss his cheek. “Now sit down while I do this ok? I’ll make it fun..” you giggle before playing ‘smooth operator’ by Sade after he sits down watching him smirk. He quietly sings along as you paint over the thin coat. “

Let me just wash my hands ok?” I smile standing up and stretching.

“Yeah what set do you want to sleep in mi vida?”

“Umm you pick, im guessing you’ve already had a shower judging by your wet hair, but I’m just going to have a quick five minute one to get off the paint from my arms and chest.” You follow Carlos upstairs after turning off all the lights.

“Tomorrow we are going to visit my dad and piñon my mum won’t be there but if we stay a bit late we can see her, are you coming?”

“Yeah I will come I love piñon.” You start the shower as Carlos brushes his teeth and waiting for you to get out. As you leave the shower and get ready for bed you have a good idea. “Carlos? Can we get a dog?” Carlos smiles and walks over to you, “how did you know I wanted one? I’ve thought about it for a while. Even when we are gone they can play with piñon.” You smile and kiss Carlos softly, “what a good idea my love.”

You smile warmly into your hug then settling into bed. Carlos cuddles you and you cuddle close to get warm. “So how was your day cariño?” You take a second to think about what you have done apart from painting, “well I pretty much just painted the whole day but I also had a meeting with my manager and my pay is going up. That’s why is was so important for me to finish that piece.” You smile and turn to face Carlos.

“Mm well done my artista.” You giggle and kiss Carlos romantically,”I love you baby.”

“I love you too cariño even when you’re stubborn.”

#carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz fluff #carlos sainz #f1 #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #riddlessecretss

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omgahgase · 3 days ago

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Charthur short

Charles breaks his bow and Arthur gets him a new very special one 🥰

hello there! sorry this lil ask took too long, and sorry that it's not short haha. i love the idea of arthur doing anything for charles bc He's In Love, so here's my take of their relationship before getting together. i hope you enjoy!

It’s a well-known fact in camp and by his friends and by just about anyone that’s asked Arthur for any help making anything outside his expertise of shitty knives:

Arthur ain’t no craftsman.

Yeah, he can chip away at a rock and wrap it around a stick then call it an arrow, and he can weave a basket—nothing else, though, that’s about as far as he can get without Jack or one of the girls aiding his helpless fingers—and, sure, he can tie up a piece of line to any broken branch and head on down to the lake with the world’s most God awful fishing pole, but the truth still stands.

If Arthur had to choose between crafting someone an item and not having it fall apart after its first use, or getting shot in the mouth…Well, then, Arthur’s making sure that bullet goes straight through his throat and out the back of his head.

So why, in God’s green Earth, is Arthur making a new bow for Charles after he broke his old one?

‘Because you love him,’ Arthur thinks, gentle in the same way his cheeks redden at the mere thought of Charles, in correction to Eagle Flies’ snarky, “I don’t know, you asked me for help,” that lights up a spark of irritation in Arthur’s gut, makes Arthur want to shove him off the log he’s perched on.

“This may be the most foolish thing I’ve ever done,” Arthur says, twirling the knife in his hand that’s speckled in his own blood.

He stares at the piece of chokecherry wood in front of him, the branch now thinner than when Arthur chopped it off and whittled it down to a poor, uneven shape that hardly resembles a stick let alone a bow. It took a little over a month to get the wood and then season it, this process he wanted to do himself because it’s special, Eagle Flies said, to put your emotions into a piece of Earth and ask the land if it’s okay to take a piece of its tree for his own desires—for Charles, his mind keeps saying. So he can’t screw it up unless he wants to start all over again. Arthur can’t afford mistakes, but his project laughs at him, it seems, and Arthur, finding himself comfortable in his frustration, wants to burn it.

“A fool in love is stronger than any beast or man he encounters,” Eagle Flies says, crafting improved arrows to Arthur’s right. He holds one up to his eye and stares down the line of it. “Your affection for Charles is deep, therefore, your actions are foolish.” He shrugs, and motions for Arthur to keep whittling. “Keep going. You're nearly there.”

“I almost lost a finger.”

“Your lover will thank you.”

Arthur feels his cheeks go from warm to uncomfortably hot. He tips his hat down over his eyes to hide the deep blush spreading over his face. “Charles ain’t my lover,” he mumbles, a correction to a hopeful assumption.

Eagle Flies only hums as he places his arrow in his pile and Arthur kinda wants to fire all of them into the distance just so his friend can feel an inkling of his annoyance. Arthur does understand that Charles will be grateful, however, no matter how shitty his new bow may turn out. Sadie gave Arthur the suggestion, said that it’ll take Charles months to construct a new bow while Arthur can figure something out and get a new one in his hands in less than that, and Arthur—with his squirrel brain that as of five months, two weeks, and six days ago (but, really, who’s counting?) hasn’t been able to keep Charles Smith out of his head—ran with it. He overestimated his abilities in the fine art of craftsmanship (and thinking with any logical parts of his brain when it comes to Charles) and damn near killed himself gathering everything he needed to make a bow.

Arthur sought out Eagle Flies not too long after Sadie planted the seedling of the thought in his head, asking him what it’d take to trade so he could get his hands on any materials ready for bow crafting. Eagle Flies, with a light in his eyes and a kick in his step, rattled off a list of items his tribe needed. Fresh berries from the West Grizzlies, wolf and cougar pelts, big game from The Heartlands, eagle feathers from the highest cliffs of Donner Falls. He even had to wipe out a few rowdy stragglers who were camped up too close to the tribe, something Eagle Flies said about his father not wanting to wander into outlaw affairs so Arthur best get the job done because it won’t be too suspicious if a Van der Linde boy does it.

After choosing his tree and setting it out to dry, Arthur spent the better half of the week hunting and gathering, putting his neck out on the line for anything that can make Charles a bow as good as the one he made himself, and by the time he had everything he needed in his possession, he was more bruised and bloody than a shitty bull rider at the state fair.

Arthur knows it’ll be worth it, though. If it means he can do something for Charles—and maybe crack a smile outta him, Arthur’s a greedy bastard down to his core and he needs to be on the receiving end of just one of Charles’ rare grins—then Arthur will gladly do it all over again.

He huffs, loudly, and gathers up the remaining incentive to keep going. Eagle Flies said he's almost done whittling, then all that's left is to string the sinew, and add little decorative designs along the shape of it because every bow is different, none is ever exactly the same. That’s what Eagle Flies told him when Arthur first started this journey.

‘Every bow is unique in its own way. Make it your own.’

‘But it’s not for me,’ Arthur had said. ‘I’m makin’ it for Charles.’

Eagle Flies only looked at him, wearing the same face Sadie wore when she gave him the idea. ‘Make it for him, then, but give a piece of yourself into every step. Put your emotions into your craft, and make it yours. Both of yours.’

‘Make it ours,’ Arthur reminds himself as he gets back to work.

---------------------------------

One month, twenty-six days, and seven hours. That’s how long it took him to make a bow.

Arthur has more scars on his hands now than he ever did before he set out to make this gift, which granted him the full understanding of the saying ‘putting in the blood, sweat, and tears’ into something you love. Arthur loves Charles more than he thinks is capable of a man like him, so why wouldn’t he put in all his effort?

He’d do just about anything for Charles, that’s been established a long time, maybe even back then in Colter when Charles suffered from a burnt hand and Arthur did everything in his power to make sure he didn’t injure it any further. That was the start of it all, Arthur believes, and now in the present time, Arthur isn’t tending to his wounds anymore, instead, he’s tending to the ache in his chest telling him to do grand displays of affection. Like crafting an entirely new bow when Arthur is the shittiest craftsman from here to Blackwater.

Arthur sucks in a deep breath to steel the jitters in his hands, his fingers clutching at the leather wrapping of the bow like a lifeline, and walks a little way down to the lake’s shoreline. Flat Iron Lake ain’t that much to look at it in the daytime, the heat of Lemoyne making the sand feel like hot rocks and the water like a warm bath, but in the evenings, when the sun’s setting just right, a blaze sparks across the horizon, makes the bright blue of the water’s surface turn a flower petal pink, then a dusky orange.

It’s pretty, hell, Arthur would even say it’s beautiful, but he won’t. Nah, the most beautiful thing about the lake is when Charles stands at the water’s edge, his features painted in the ever-changing color of the sky, his hair long and wavy down his back, the outline of his frame strong, sturdy like a mountain, and just as gorgeous. He just stares out into the water, soaking it in, eyes soft in the setting sun, and Arthur can’t think of anything prettier.

Arthur swallows down the nervous lump in his throat, then, “‘Scuse me, Mr. Smith,” he calls.

Charles turns, his fair falling in front of his eyes when he sees Arthur, and, suddenly, it’s only them. Call it Arthur’s tunnel vision—hell, even call him crazy if it fits—but at the moment Charles fully faces him, the barest hint of a smile on his face (is he surprised? Arthur hopes so), the lake, camp, everything around them falls away.

“Hello, Arthur,” Charles greets, meeting him halfway along the shore’s edge. He stops just shy of a foot away, and Arthur has to resist the urge to pull him closer. “Aren’t you supposed to be working on that stagecoach job with John?”

“Nah, Martson can handle it.” Arthur clears his throat, then, before his brain can tell him to high tail it back to his tent, he thrusts out the leather wrapping. “I got somethin’ for you.”

Charles’ eyebrows knit together quizzically before he looks down as if just realizing it was there, his lips going all pouty in that way he does when he doesn’t understand something. “What’s the occasion?” He asks, gingerly taking the wrappings and undoing the ties.

“No occasion, Mr. Smith. It’s just—well, I thought that um—” Before Arthur can stop himself, his mind going from overly polite to ‘Don’t say anythin’ stupid,’ his mouth kicks into overdrive and rambles a string of words in a single breath.

“I know you broke your bow last time you went huntin’, and it’s hard tryin’ to find somethin’ like that in any ‘ol store, so I made you a new one—it ain’t as pretty as your last one—shoot, it probably don’t work much better neither, but I made it—for you—so I hope it gets the job done.”

Arthur’s head swims woozy by the time his words fall free, and his gut churns with anticipation as Charles looks upon the bow, his expression hidden by the shadow of the descending sun. Arthur’s feet are leaden to the ground, his hands trembling a shake so violent he hides them behind his back, and after a few seconds of agonizing silence, of Charles tracing the curved line of his new weapon with a delicate finger and tweaking the sinew strings, he lifts his head. Arthur’s heart jumps into his throat.

“You made this?” He asks, marveled, eyes the softest shade of brown Arthur’s ever seen on him.

Arthur clears his throat, manages a croaked, “Yeah.”

Charles just continues to feel it, grips over the leather wrapping of the middle part, and then, as if in a trance, his eyes land on the engravings just above. His thumb runs over it, gently, as if the bison might disappear if he’s not careful.

“You did this too?” His voice is so deep, so soft as if he’s speaking to Arthur in a dream that Arthur almost misses his question.

“Yeah. Eagle Flies helped, a ‘lil. Actually, he’s the one who taught me how to make it. I didn’t—I wanted to do it right.” The ‘for you’ threatens to barrel roll from his lips but Arthur swallows it down, forcing it to the back of his throat. “Bison are important to your family. So,” he shrugs, trying to pass it off as nonchalant when his body’s buzzing like a hummingbird.

Charles’ eyes land on the second engraving, a buck that sits just below the leather, and something in the way he spoke, like a gentle rustle in the grass, shook Arthur to his core. “Is this you?”

Arthur nods, steps a little closer so he can brush his fingers over the buck too, just shy of Charles’ own. “The lines took the longest. Almost lost a finger while doin’ it.” Charles chuckles, endeared, and he’s smiling, a small barely there upturn of his lips that Arthur wants to sketch and keep in his pocket forever. “Eagle Flies said to make it special, to, y’know, make it my own. It’s yours, though, but I still wanted to have a ‘lil bit of myself there. So it’s—it’s kinda like ours—in a way, I guess.”

Arthur bites his tongue, stopping himself from saying anything else that will make his face redder than a fire ant’s ass. He hopes the flaming rays of the sun can cover his blush, but even his luck can’t make miracles.

“It’s beautiful,” Charles says, so earnestly that Arthur’s heart drops from his throat and does a can-can number in his chest. “It’s like you’ll be with me wherever I go.”

“I’ll go anywhere with you, Charles,” Arthur counters, baffled by the thought that he wouldn’t follow Charles to the end of the Earth. If he asked or not, Arthur’s with him.

Charles stares at him, then, equally as mystified. “You will?”

As if Arthur would be anywhere else. “Always.”

It’s Charles’ turn to surprise him, then, by lunging into Arthur’s person with the force of a bolder. He hugs him tight, squeezes around Arthur’s shoulders, and tucks his face close to his ear. He doesn’t say anything, not until Arthur’s body catches up to his brain and he wraps his arms around Charles’ middle, holding on just as close.

“Thank you, Arthur. No one’s ever given me something like this, or ever treated me this nice before.”

“I will,” Arthur says, his voice muffled by the fabric of Charles’ shirt, but still holding so much weight to it that Charles steps in until the entirety of their bodies are pressed together. “You’re my friend, Charles. I would do anyin’ for you.”

Charles sucks in a sharp breath. “Thank you.”

They separate far too quickly for Arthur’s liking, the sun nearly gone behind the mountains and the moon already high in the sky. Charles continues to stare at his gift as if he can’t believe it’s actually his like he can’t imagine someone going out of their way to give him something as heartfelt.

(In the back of his mind, Arthur vows to break that train of thought, to make Charles believe he’s not just put on this Earth to hurt, but to live, and, hopefully, to love.)

But still, even if Charles likes it, Arthur still has to say, “Sorry if it ain’t as good as your old one.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Charles scolds, his eyebrows knitting together. “It’s perfect.”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “You and I both know my craftsmanship is shit. You don’t even know how it shoots.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, Arthur. You’re more of a wonder than you think you are.” He smiles, then, closed mouth and so sweet that his cheeks bunch up under his eyes, and Arthur officially goes dumb. “Come. Practice with me while we still have light.”

He brushes past Arthur, up the little hill towards the small clearing near camp. When Arthur doesn’t move because he’s too busy reeling at granted something so small and special, something no one else in camp gets to see, Charles calls out to him.

“You coming with me, cowboy?”

Immediately, Arthur is next to him, standing so close their knuckles brush and a spark shoots out somewhere in the distance.

“Always.”

#charthur #arthur morgan #charles smith #arthur loves him so much it drives him crazy #charles loves him too he just doesn't know how to show it lmao #omgahgase writes #read dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic

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