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headkiss · 1 year ago

Text

something more

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!bau!reader

summary: you and aaron are friends with feelings more obvious than you think. or: 5 times the team suspects you and hotch are dating +1 time they know it.

word count: 6.6k

warnings: friends to lovers, the team being a little nosy, pining idiots!!!, probably inaccurate descriptions of bau jobs (for the plot!), a very small injury, a birthday, a first kiss, and fluff!

a/n: hiii this one has been a long time coming so thank you guys for being so patient with me!!! and special thanks to the anon who requested this one! i hope u guys enjoy it and please please let me know what you think <3 ily

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Aaron Hotchner was never someone you thought you could be this close to.

Coming to the BAU, you’d been intimidated more than anything. As Unit Chief, he’s got a reputation that’s hard to ignore. Professional, brave, cold when he has to be. His success and talent were undeniable, and all you wanted to do was prove that you belonged there, too.

Then, you really met him, and he surprised you in a way you hadn’t expected. Hotch was kind right off the bat, welcoming you to the team with a smile that felt like some sort of prize.

He was an excellent boss. Understanding and protective, quick to defend anyone on the team like they were his own family. Except, he was so much more than just your boss.

Now, you’d call him your closest friend, someone who’s number you’d call if you were in trouble. He’s your closest friend and yet you feel so much more for him.

It started slow, a friendship blooming the way a plant does with just enough sunlight. It was a shared smile here, a nudge of the shoulder there. It grew to be a seat next to him reserved for you on every plane ride.

Today, it’s eating lunch with him in his office.

Aaron usually works through lunch, more eager to get things done than he is to worry about skipping a meal. Somehow, with two tupperware containers in your hand and a sweet smile, you’d managed to get him to take a break.

“Whatcha doing?” You’d asked.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork then, dropping his pen because you were in his doorway. “You know, Unit Chief business. Reports.”

“Sounds like you have time for lunch, then.” You set the containers down on his desk, making sure to avoid the papers he’d just been working on.

“I should really get this done-”

“Hotch,” you stopped him, “you and I both know that you’re always ahead on this stuff because you stay here so late. Lunch won’t set you back.”

With a shake of his head and the biting back of a smile, a simple twitch at the corners of his mouth, Aaron agreed and stacked his paperwork off to the side.

That’s how you’ve ended up in the chair that’s usually on the opposite side of his desk, only now it’s tugged to be next to his. Your knees touch every so often when one of you shifts, and the warmth stays with you even when the contact is gone.

“Sorry it’s nothing fancy,” you say as he opens the container you brought for him.

“Don’t apologize. It’s great.” Hotch has a way of saying things that make them sound true, no matter how few words he uses, so you accept it.

“Okay, good!” There’s a small silence, a lull as you both take your first bites. “Can I help with anything?”

Aaron looks from the paperwork to your face, your eyes already on his. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to,” you reassure him. “I think sometimes you forget that you aren’t the only one who can do this stuff.”

He knocks his knee against yours. Purposeful this time. A silent ‘thank you.’

“Like you said, I’m ahead anyways. I’ve got it.”

“Come on, Hotch. I’m already done with my report from our last case. I’ve got time. Let me help.”

He’s always been reluctant to accept help, to ask for it, but when you’re asking so sweetly, when it’ll give him an excuse to spend more time with you, it’s hard for Aaron to say no.

“Alright. You help for an hour, that’s it.”

You grin at him, like his acceptance of your offer was some kind of gift he’d given you. Your nose crinkles a little with it, and his hand flexes in his lap, like he’s fighting not to reach out to you.

“Okay, put me to work, boss.”

“We just started lunch,” he says, a little chuckle puffing out.

“Have you ever heard of multitasking, Agent Hotchner?”

Aaron laughs, shaking his head as he reaches for one of the files in the stack he’d made and hands it to you. He’d call everyone at the BAU a friend, but there’s something different, something more about how he’d describe you.

He’s grown closer to you than he usually lets himself get to people, like you’re the only one with the right tools to break through walls he’s put up. You see each other outside of work (on the rare days you aren’t working), and still, he feels like it’s never long enough.

Hotch briefly wonders if he could just move your desk into his office. He shakes off the thought and what it might mean.

Head bent, you’re now focused on the work he gave you, and Aaron takes the chance to admire you. His eyes flick over your profile, the light hitting your cheeks, the flutter of your eyelashes every time you blink.

As if you could feel his gaze on you, you turn towards him and smile—a small, closed-mouth smile, but a smile all the same—before turning your attention back to the page.

When you take a pause and take another bite of your lunch, a small drop of sauce lands on your thigh. “Oh, shit.”

Aaron grabs a tissue from the box on his desk, wrapping it over his fingertip before wiping the small spot from your leg, his finger a spark against you even through your pants.

“Good thing you wore black,” he says, tossing the tissue in the garbage. His hand, however, stays on your leg, and though the touch is light the weight of it feels the opposite. Heavy, huge.

“Good thing you’re here to clean up after me, more like.”

Your eyes meet, and you share a smile with Hotch the way you often do. Mid-conversation, across a room, it’s a smile you sort of reserve for each other.

In the main office below, Derek, Spencer, and JJ stand together, watching the interaction through the window into Hotch’s office. You and Aaron seem to be in your own bubble, completely unaware of your small audience.

“They’ve gotta be together,” Derek is the first to speak, waving a hand towards the office where you and Hotch are talking. “I mean, come on.”

“I don’t know,” JJ shrugs, “they both seem kinda clueless.”

“We probably shouldn’t speculate about them,” Spencer, always the sweetheart, says. “But, statistically, Hotch never eats lunch. Just saying.”

JJ pats Reid on the shoulder, huffing out a laugh before she heads back to her desk.

You stay in Aaron’s office much longer than an hour that day.

Punctuality is important in the BAU. Really, if you’re not early, you’re late. You’ve always got to be ready, wheels up in ten, or five.

You suppose that doesn’t really apply to outside-of-the-office parties at Garcia’s.

It’s rare that you’re all available at the same time, from late nights at the bureau to families, it’s tough to make your schedules line up when you aren’t working, which is why whenever she can, Penelope likes to host drinks for the team.

You’re on your way there now, or, you should be. Instead, you’re getting ready in your bedroom while Aaron waits in your living room.

Hotch has offered to drive you to these things every time, and with every offer, comes your easy answer of ‘yes.’ He’d been outside in his car for five minutes before he decided to call, because you’re usually in his passenger seat within seconds of him pulling over by your building.

The ringing of your phone had your eyes blinking open, squinted against the sudden brightness of your TV. You’d accidentally fallen asleep, and, still disoriented, picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey, everything okay?” It’s Aaron’s voice on the other line, and you pull your phone away for a second to check the time before sitting up quickly.

“Shit, Hotch, I must’ve fallen asleep. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s alright, I can wait for you.” He’d wait as long as you need, he thinks. The thought passes through like a leaf blown in the wind, freely, randomly.

“Have you been waiting long?” You ask, fingers tugging at a loose thread in your pants.

“No, don’t worry. Barely five minutes.”

And he still wanted to check on you.

“Why don’t you come in? My couch is probably more comfortable than your car, right?”

“You sure?” He checks, like he hasn’t been to your place before, like you’d ever not want him there.

“Get in here, Hotchner.”

You hung up before he could reply, and he laughed to himself in his car before shutting it off and doing exactly what you’d told him.

So, now, you’re rushing to find an outfit while Aaron sits on your couch by himself.

Even though he’s in the next room, you can feel his presence around you, the steady security he gives you, the warmth that seeps out of him even when he tries to hide it.

You settle on a knitted sweater, a skirt, and some tights, which you realize as you tug them on aren't the speediest of options, but it’s too late to change your mind now. With your hair figured out and the mascara that had smudged during your nap fixed, you step back out into the living room.

Aaron made himself at home while you were gone (he often feels that way with you, at home), sitting on your couch with his arms spread across the back. He looks better than he should there, suit stretched across his shoulders, and you have to clear your throat to snap yourself out of it.

“Okay, sorry again for the delay. I’m ready to go.”

He looks up as soon as you walk in, eyes skimming over your legs and the tights wrapped around them, your waist, up your neck. His gaze lands on your eyes the way it often does, like magnets.

He shakes his head, “don’t be sorry. We’ll be what they call ‘fashionably late.’”

You laugh, because who would’ve thought that the words ‘fashionably late’ would ever come out of Aaron Hotchner’s mouth.

“Who taught you that one, huh?”

“I like to keep my sources anonymous.”

“Well okay, then. Let’s go be fashionably late, Hotch.”

He lets you lead the way to the car, only jogging up ahead to open your door before you can reach it yourself.

During the drive to Penelope’s, you take control of the music with little objection from Aaron, and when it gets to a song you know he likes, you sing along, encouraging him to do the same.

“Let’s hear it, Agent Hotchner.” You hold your fist out like there’s a microphone in it, looking at him with a grin on your face.

“I can't sing.” Aaron’s fighting off a smile, because you’re sitting beside him, not too shy to sing along, being all cute and, briefly, he thinks about reaching out and grabbing your hand and holding on.

“Sure you can! Everyone can sing, come on.” You unfurl your faux microphone-holding fist and tug on the knot of his tie, “loosen up a little.”

And, because you have some way of convincing him of things—first lunch, now this—he humors you by joining in for one chorus of the song. When your eyes light up a little, and your grin only widens, he can’t bring himself to be too concerned of how bad he probably sounds.

By the time you’re at Garcia’s door you’re a solid hour late, yet you and Aaron walk up to the door with matching smiles all the same.

“I’m getting you to do that every time I hear that song now, I hope you know.”

“That was a one time special,” he says. He reaches over your shoulder to knock on the door. His hand brushes against you, featherlight and quick, a crackle over your skin.

On the other side, Morgan says, “must be the lovebirds” when he hears the sound.

You and Aaron don’t hear him, only broken out of your little shared bubble when Penelope opens the door. “There you guys are! I made your drinks but the ice might be melted by now. You know, ‘cause you’re late.”

You know this is directed towards you more than it is Hotch, because Garcia’s a little intimidated by him still. You also know she’s only joking, and greet her with a hug before stepping in.

Aaron isn’t far behind you, though at these things, he never is.

You’re met with warm greetings from the team when you walk in, and you chat for a bit, but it isn’t long before things split off into smaller conversations. They all know that Aaron drives you to these things, and, as profilers, they’re also all able to see the way you look at each other, the way the knot of his tie sits lower than usual.

In the corner, Emily leans over to Derek, saying, “usually it takes at least two drinks for Hotch’s tie to look like that.”

“I told you, they’re together,” Derek shrugs.

“I don’t think they know that,” Emily replies.

This time, Aaron hears them, and he can’t help but look towards you in the room the rest of the night, thinking and thinking and thinking.

He ends up deciding that they might have a point. That maybe, that shift in his heartbeat when you’re around isn’t nothing, isn’t just friends.

The flight home from a case always feels the longest.

On the way there, you’re packing every hour with information about what’s going on, talking to Garcia, reading police reports. You’re all on edge, eager to get out there and help and do your jobs,

Then, on the way home, with another case solved, all you’re thinking about is going home, sleeping in your own bed, and time seems to go slower.

If your name happens to be Aaron Hotchner, you’d spend the plane ride home doing paperwork that actually can wait.

You and Aaron sit next to each other on pretty much every flight, though the seats have never been assigned. It’s an unspoken thing, like your names are written on the fabric of the same two seats on the jet and that’s just the way it is.

The first time was early on in your time on the team. It was a tough case for you, and Hotch seemed to know it without you having to say anything, so, when you got on the jet to come home, he smiled that small, twitch of his lips smile at you and nodded at the seat next to him. You’ve been sitting there ever since.

Today, your flight is on the shorter side, but feels long the way it always does. Trying to keep yourself occupied, you pull out your earbuds and shuffle your playlist, hoping that the songs will speed things up.

“Sick of me already?” Hotch speaks up when he notices your headphones.

You tilt your head to look at him. He looks tired, the way you’re sure you do, too, but never any less handsome. His eyes are soft where they meet yours, paired with a hint of a smile that you’re always able to catch.

“Sick of you, Hotch? Never.” You nod at the file he has open on the small table, “just didn’t want to distract you.”

“I thought you enjoyed distracting me. Always telling me I work too much.”

“‘Cause it’s true,” you say. “That doesn’t mean you listen.”

“I listen to you more than I listen to most people.” Aaron’s voice is gentle when he says it, the words sinking in and melting you just a little, sugary sweet. It could mean absolutely nothing, but with the way he keeps his eyes steady on yours, you don’t think it does.

“Listen to this, then,” you hand him one of your earbuds, and his fingers brush yours when he takes it from you. “But you can’t make fun of me if a musical soundtrack comes on, okay?”

“Okay,” he huffs a small laugh, and you feel a little brighter. “I promise.”

You’re aware of the team having their own conversations in the rows in front of you and Hotch, but you can’t bring yourself to join in, because you and Aaron are sharing your earbuds and his head is bent just a little closer to yours. It’s delicate, and you’ll do your best not to break it.

You talk a little longer, until it naturally fizzles out and Hotch is back to working on his files and you’re bobbing your head along to your songs. Only now, Aaron sits closer to you, his arm against yours.

He’s not sure what to do with his newfound realization that his feelings for you run far deeper than friendship. All Aaron knows is that he likes the feeling of you beside him, and that he’s planning on keeping you there as long as you’ll let him.

It’s quiet between the two of you aside from your occasional ‘this is a good one,’ and his hum of acknowledgement.

Eventually, you’re relaxed enough that your eyes grow heavy, the sleep you’ve been lacking suddenly catching up to you, and when you hit a patch of slower songs you’re fighting to stay awake.

When your head lulls onto Hotch’s shoulder, you jerk your head up, “sorry, Aaron.”

His chest does something funny. A jump. It’s not often you call him Aaron, and he’d listen to the sound of his name on your lips on a loop if he could. Because he can’t help himself, he scooches himself even closer to you.

He decides to call you something different, too, saying, “it’s alright, honey.”

You’re too sleepy to really read into that one, all you feel is the flutter in your stomach and Aaron’s hand on your head, gently guiding it to his shoulder.

When he’s sure you’re asleep, Hotch looks away from his files and over to you. Your cheek is squished against his shoulder, your lashes fanned shut. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen.

Aaron doesn’t even feel the smile that spreads over his face as he reaches up and pushes your hair away from your face. He’s completely unaware of the eyes that catch him, far too focused on you.

Emily turned around when she realized she hadn’t heard your voice in a bit, and she did it just in time to catch Hotch’s movement. Instead of saying something, she turns back around and shakes her head to herself.

Hopeless, she thinks.

Sleep doesn’t come so easily with this job, with the things you see, so Aaron can’t help but try and stay steady for you, and if that leads to him letting his eyes close and resting his head on yours, then so be it.

It’s not until the end of the flight that the team checks on the two of you. As everyone stands and grabs their go bags, they notice the two of you, asleep next to each other, earbud wires hanging between you.

“Should we wake them up?” JJ asks.

“Hotch doesn’t get enough sleep as it is,” Spencer chimes in. “Neither does she, actually.”

Of course, Derek finishes with, “let’s leave the lovebirds to it,” before the team gets off the plane.

It’s only about twenty minutes later that Aaron does wake up, but he feels more well-rested than he has in a while, even with the kink in his neck.

Blinking his eyes open, he’s met with an empty jet and the comforting weight of your head on his shoulder. “Shit,” he sighs.

He debates waking you, ultimately deciding that you’d probably rather sleep in your bed rather than the seat of the BAU’s jet. Reaching up, he pulls your earbuds away, setting them on the table. With a brush of his fingertips to your cheek, he coaxed you awake.

“Hey, honey,” Aaron’s nearly whispering, like he’s afraid to scare you. Or, maybe, he’s convinced that if he moves too quickly, too loudly, this whole thing will fade away as if he’d been dreaming. “Wake up, we’re home.”

“Hm?” You grumble, scrunching your nose when he brushes your cheek again.

“We fell asleep, but we landed.”

“Oh, god.” You sit up properly, lifting your head. “I’m sorry, Aaron. Hotch.”

“Aaron is good,” he eases you. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”

Sleep-hazed, or maybe just happy that he can be Aaron to you, you agree easily and take his hand when he offers it, letting him lead you to his car.

You’ve been spending more time at Aaron’s ever since that flight. In the car, he’d convinced you to stay over at his place in the guest room, since it was closer. With your go bag already in his car and heavy, sleepy eyes, it was hard for you to do anything but agree.

It’s another slice of his life that he’s let you see, and you can’t help but feel like it means something, like you’re stepping further and further away from being coworkers who are friends and towards something different. Something more.

That flight feels like the catalyst, the thing that caused things to shift into what they are now.

Aaron’s couch is much more comfortable than yours, and though you’ve yet to spend the night again, you’re sitting there with him at almost every chance. The time off you get is rare, and Aaron wanting to spend it with you sends flutters to your stomach whenever you think about it.

You feel like you know him better, getting to see his space, how he chose to decorate, what colors he likes, which ones he doesn’t. You also know what temperature he likes to set his thermostat.

“Do you enjoy living in a refrigerator?” You ask, hands tucked into your sleeves. “Just wondering.”

Aaron laughs, a small huff, “I think you just run cold, honey.”

He’s been calling you that a lot, too. Honey.

“No way, Hotchner. Your house is what runs cold. Or maybe you’re cold-blooded.”

Not with you, he thinks. Years and years of doing what he does, Hotch might even call himself cold when he’s thinking a little too hard. But never cold with you. He thinks that might be impossible for him.

“Shhh, don’t tell anyone my secret,” he says, his arm brushing against yours from where he sits next to you on his couch. “Where are you cold?”

“Can’t feel my toes, Aaron. I might be out of commission for the next case.”

“Well we can’t lose our best girl, can we?” Best girl, he says. Like he means it, like it’s simple. “I’ve got some thick socks you can grab. Bottom drawer.”

Just like that, he’s cracked another wall of his down even further, giving you permission to go into his bedroom as if you’ve been in there a thousand times.

“Really?”

“Unless you’d rather not feel your toes-“

“Okay, okay,” you stop him, unable to fight your smile. “Thanks, Aaron.”

When you stand and head towards his room, Aaron can’t stop himself from thinking that you belong there, in his home, his room, his life. You fit in so seamlessly he wishes you’d never leave.

He stands up too, because the couch suddenly feels sort of empty without you beside him, without your warmth. He walks over to his thermostat on the wall and turns it up for you.

You’ve always thought that you can tell a lot about a person from where they live, and seeing Aaron’s bedroom now solidifies it. His place does too, but there’s something about his bedroom that feels much more personal.

Here, there’s more of him, little bits of his life scattered around. A picture of him as a kid with his parents on the dresser, the newspaper’s crossword sitting completely finished on his nightstand, his bed neatly made.

You smile at the framed photo before slipping the top drawer open and finding the pair of socks he’d been talking about. As much as you’d love to snoop, you don’t want to invade his privacy in any way. Besides, from Aaron, even a glimpse of his space feels special.

You slip on the socks before you leave his room, letting them bunch at your ankles.

As soon as you walk back into the living room, Aaron’s phone rings. Glancing at you softly, almost apologetically though he’s got nothing to be sorry about—you work with him, you know how important a call can be—he picks it up.

“Hotchner,” he says, holding it to his ear. His voice is different this way, more professional, controlled. Never any less pleasing to hear.

He’d wanted to say something about how good you look in his clothes when his phone rang, Garcia’s name flashing on the screen. Aaron wishes it was someone else, only to spend more time with you this way.

“Sorry to call late, sir,” Penelope says. “We’ve got a case. Missing kid; it’s urgent.”

“Don’t be sorry, Garcia. We’re on our way.”

“Wait, we?” She asks, curious as always.

“What’s going on?” You ask Aaron.

“Got a case. I’ll drive, honey.” He lets the pet name slip, like it’s a habit.

On the other line, Garcia’s grinning to herself in her office. She’d had a suspicion of who on the team Hotch would be with outside of work, and hearing your voice, and his use of the word ‘honey’ all sticky sweet, she knows she’s onto something.

“Oh, that’s ‘we,’” Penelope’s voice teases. “Tell her I’ll see you guys soon!”

Aaron shakes his head, fighting his smile. “Bye, Garcia.”

He hangs up and looks from his phone to you, your eyes already on him, corners of your mouth tugged up just a little like you’d heard what Garcia said, heard the lilt in her voice. Like you liked the idea of you and Aaron being a unit. We.

He likes that idea, too.

Back at the BAU, Garcia calls Derek next, who picks up with his classic, “hey, babygirl.”

First, she tells him that he needs to come into the office, that they’ve got a case, then, “you’re never going to believe this.”

Penelope loves to talk, and Derek’s happy to listen, so she tells him about how you’d been with Aaron when she called, and that you were on your way together.

“I give them another week, max, before they’re holding hands when they come in.” Derek laughs, because he can see yours and Hotch’s feelings so easily, plain as day, and he loves to be right about things.

“How mad will Hotch be when he finds out that we talk about his relationship?” Penelope’s mostly joking, only a fraction concerned.

“If the boss didn’t want us talking about it, he shouldn’t be so obvious, sweetheart.”

Once you arrive at the office, you don’t catch Penelope and Derek’s shared looks behind yours and Aaron’s—who happens to be carrying both his and your go bag—backs.

And if anyone notices the loose socks around your ankles, they don’t say anything about it.

You’re not supposed to go off on your own unless it’s absolutely necessary. You know that, the team knows that. Aaron, who is always trying to keep you as safe as possible, enforces it.

You guess that this time might be up for debate.

When it comes to what you do, you have to trust your instincts most of the time. And today, your gut told you to make a decision that might not have been safe, but to you, it felt like what you had to do.

Aaron had been on the phone with you, trying to figure out a way to make the car drive any faster to get to you. He’d heard it in your voice, in the tone of it, that he couldn’t convince you to wait for someone else to show up.

“I have to do this, Aaron,” you’d said. While the team would normally probably tease him about you calling him Aaron, as if it isn’t his name, they’d known not to interrupt this time. “You know I do.”

“You don’t have to.” His hands tightened on the steering wheel as he spoke. “We’ll be there soon, alright? Just-”

“I’m sorry.” And then, you hung up.

In the end, going in when you did had been the right move. A life had been saved, and you’d slowed the guy down enough that the police were able to arrest him when they arrived. All it cost you was a cut and a bruise on your cheek.

So, your instincts weren’t so bad.

Aaron, however, disagrees. Logically, he knows that he would’ve done the exact same thing you did, knows the rest of the team would’ve, too. But when it comes to you, he has a hard time thinking logically.

After you hung up on him, all he could do was breathe and breathe and breathe over the heavy thumping of his heartbeat and the worry spinning in his head. He drove the quickest he could manage, the car silent inside. A static.

It’s not that he doubts your abilities—he’s always thought you were incredible, even before the friendship, even before now—only that the idea of you being alone with such a bad man makes him feel sick.

He’d take your place in a heartbeat, if he could, just to make sure you’d be safe.

By the time he and the rest of the team get to the scene, you’re walking out of the building with a hand pressed to your cheek and a paramedic leading you to a nearby ambulance.

Aaron spots you right away, his eyes scanning the small crowd through red and blue lights and conversations surrounding him. When he spots you, everything goes quiet.

His first thought is, thank god she’s alive, then, it’s fuck, she’s hurt.

Without a word to anyone, he heads over in your direction right away. He meets you at the ambulance, where you sit on the small bench inside while the paramedic presses your cheek with gauze.

“Honey.” It comes out in a breath. Relief and pain all at once.

You look over to him, his hair a little messy, his eyes wide and roaming all over you like he’s checking for any other injuries. He cares about you, and it’s written all over him.

“Aaron. I’m okay.” You hold a hand out, and he grabs it, sitting beside you on the bench in the ambulance. “Promise.”

For now, he nods, letting the paramedic do their job bandaging up your cheek. When they’re finished, they hand you a spare bandage saying, “it’s gonna bruise, and it might feel sore for a bit, but you’re all patched up.”

The paramedic leaves after that, probably going to check on other people. The lights inside the ambulance seem to cocoon you, a bright difference to the darkness outside.

The first thing Aaron says is, “let me see.”

His hands reach for your face, rough fingertips gently holding your jaw, tilting you so that he can look at your cheek. It’s a little swollen, discolored where you must’ve been hit. There’s a furrow in his brow, something that looks like a pout on none other than Aaron Hotchner.

“Hey,” you grab his wrists, but his hands stay on your face. “I’m fine.”

Aaron’s always worried, he’s always cared about you and about everyone on the team, but this is different. He was usually able to hide things much better than this. Much better than with you.

Now, all he sees is the tiny bloodstain on your shirt and the bandage on your cheek. All he feels is your hands squeezing his wrists and your eyes locked on his.

“You should have waited,” he says. “I could have been there.”

“Hotchner,” your deadpan tone is intact, which he’ll take as a win, even if it’s directed towards him. “You and I both know you would have done the same. I had to.”

One of his hands shifts to cup your non-injured cheek. Normally, he’d be much more composed while working, but he can’t bring himself to care about how he must look right now.

“I know you did,” he tells you, because he does. “I just wish that you didn’t. I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Your stomach is tumbling, rolling, your heart doing silly things in your chest. You can hardly feel the pain of your cheek anymore when his hand is on the other, his palm warm against your skin, his gaze even warmer.

“I’m hardly hurt, Aaron. Just a scratch.”

“Right. One that required medical attention. That’s more than just a scratch, honey.”

“If you say so, Hotchner.”

He shifts his hands so that they fall into your lap, palms up and fingers instantly finding yours, tangling together perfectly. Like puzzle pieces.

“Good job, by the way.” Hotch rubs his thumb over your skin once, back and forth. “You did the right thing.”

“Learned from the best,” you say.

You’re both oblivious to the fact that the team is watching from a distance, and that the two of you look so lovesick it’s ridiculous that you haven’t spilled your feelings yet. You’re both absolutely fucked.

Where she stands with the team, Emily shakes her head, “I haven’t seen Hotch like this since… ever.”

Beside her, JJ merely shrugs, like it’s obvious, “yeah, they’re in love.”

Spencer looks at you and Aaron in that ambulance with a smile. “The odds of you guys being right are very, very high.”

Aaron Hotchner was never the biggest fan of birthdays. Was never big into the cakes and making wishes, the song and the presents and the fuss of it all.

When he started at the bureau, it stayed that way. Days off were rare enough as it was, so he’d always work on his birthday. And while he kept the signed cards from the team, he treated it as any other day. Nothing special.

This year, you’re on a mission to change that.

While it isn’t the first of Aaron’s birthdays you’ve spent with him, it’s the first one since the two of you have grown as close as you have, since you’ve felt the way you do. You’re just hoping to make it a good birthday for him.

You’ve roped the whole team into it. Decorating the conference room with streamers and balloons and a sign that hangs crooked on the wall, bringing in a cake that reads ‘Happy Birthday Hotch’ in frosting, and keeping it all a secret.

Of course, you’ve all already said happy birthday to him, and you’ve got a present stashed under your desk for later, but you’ve been doing your best to act natural even when the anticipation of your surprise for him eats at your stomach a little.

Surprises are a tricky thing, and there’s no way of knowing whether he’ll like it or not. You’ll just have to wait and see.

While in his office, the team had made it seem like they’d all left for the day, saying their goodbyes to Hotch. Instead of leaving, though, they’ve been hidden in the conference room waiting for you to bring him in.

“Aaron,” you say, knocking on his office door. “I think I lost an earring. Do you think you could help me look for it?”

Because you’re the one asking, Aaron says, “‘course, honey. Where do you think it is?”

You smile, because he’s fallen into your trap easily, because you know that he probably would search for an earring with you if you’d actually lost one.

“I remember having it on in the conference room, so maybe there.”

He stands from his desk, gesturing for you to lead the way with his hand held out. You grab onto it before he can drop it, tangling your fingers and leading him behind you.

Aaron lets you guide him, and when you open the door to the conference room and flick on the lights, he’s met with the team’s grinning faces and a chorus of, “surprise!”

For a moment, he’s speechless, frozen in his spot in the doorway with your hand in his.

No, Aaron’s never been the biggest fan of birthdays, but maybe that’s because nobody’s ever done something like this for him. You came into his life all sweet smiles and now you’re throwing him a surprise party? He’s never ever liked someone the way he likes you.

So much that like is spilling into a four letter word and he’s happy to let it.

You know him well enough to know that he doesn’t like being the center of attention too much, so the only people in the room are those of the BAU. His closest friends. And you, his favorite person.

Before he can say anything he’s being spoken to by the team, getting a ‘happy birthday, boss,’ from Derek, a spill about how hard it was to keep this a secret from Penelope, a grin from Spencer, a tip about how you’d organized all of this from Emily, a squeeze to the shoulder from JJ.

When he finally gets the chance, the others split into their own conversations, Aaron tugs you aside to the corner of the room.

“You did all of this for me?” He asks, head bent to catch your eye.

Although you’d caught the signature Hotchner smile—closed-mouthed and quick—when he saw the surprise, you’re nervous about what he might say. You worry that you’ve done too much, that he’d been pretending to like it for your sake.

“I’m sorry if it’s a bit much,” you start, anxiously tugging at your sleeves. “I wasn’t sure if you liked surprises, I know not everyone does, but I wanted to do something for you because I care about you. A lot. And birthdays are meant to be celebrated, you know?”

Aaron can’t help but let a smile spread over his face as you speak; a real smile. His heart is light, his feelings for you melting through him like the soft pink of cotton candy. He doesn’t think you could ever do anything that he wouldn’t like.

“I’ll clean it all up, too, I prom-”

Your rambling is cut off with his lips on yours. He’s kissing you.

It’s soft, the press of his mouth against yours, and it takes you a second to push back. It stays delicate, a dance between the two of you like you’d practiced a million times before.

His hands skate down your arms to hold your hands, weaving his fingers with yours, squeezing like he’s making sure you know this is real.

You feel it all over, your stomach tumbling, your heart beating in a rhythm that thumps his name. Aaron, Aaron, Aaron, over and over.

It’s a kiss worth a thousand words that you haven’t said yet, a kiss full of feelings and meaning and you know it, just by the way he does it, because you know him and he knows you. It’s you and Aaron, and it feels like the beginning of something huge. Of the rest of your life, maybe.

When he pulls back, Hotch rests his forehead against yours, giving your head a gentle nudge, locking his brown eyes on yours.

“It’s perfect,” he says.

The next thing you hear is Derek Morgan cheering, “I knew it!”

Similar words come from the rest of the team.

“Finally,” from Emily.

“About time,” from JJ.

“This isn’t surprising,” from Spencer, who smiles while saying it.

A sweet, “yay,” from Penelope.

Distracted by Aaron kissing you, you’d sort of forgotten they were there. Bashful, you tuck your head beneath Aaron’s chin, forehead against his collar. He simply tightens his hands around yours.

And when it’s time for cake, this year, Aaron Hotchner makes a wish on his birthday candles. He wishes to spend every other birthday just like this. With you.

༄

thank you so so much for reading!!! if you liked it, please please please consider reblogging/commenting and letting me know what you thought! love you <3

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pomefioredove · 2 months ago

Note

may I please request Headcanon of the overblot gang + Adeuce when a reader that’s normally very sweet and shy goes absolutely apeshit and TEARS INTO some bully, absolutely roasting the hell out of them please? Thank you :3

of course anon!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ going apeshit!!!!

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

being the magicless newcomer makes you a favorite target for some of Night Raven College's less kindly students.

your loved ones know this, too, so when a group of brutish first years approach, they're ready to defend you. except...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Riddle had seen them coming towards you and already had his hand on his magical pen

how stupid of them to pick on you in his presence

a week or two without their heads would serve them well

but before he can even step between you and the ruffians (very gallantly, I might add; he had it all planned out in his head),

you just...

...oh

even he blushes at the profanity you spew

he didn't even get to scold them

...then you turn back to him with that same sweet smile as if nothing had happened

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ace had actually been the first student to get an earful from you

once at the beginning of the year, and never again

now, he takes great pleasure in watching you verbally eviscerate the other students

it's a... guilty pleasure, we'll say

and Deuce knows not to intervene

he tried... once

after all, he's been in your place before

nothing's better than the feeling of putting some snob in his place

BUT OF COURSE, that's the old Deuce

...he just lets you go on because he knows he can't stop you

...not because he's enjoying it. obviously

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

and here Leona was, thinking you were some helpless little herbivore...

but can you blame him?

you're always so... cute

skipping around Savanaclaw, all happy to be helping out Ruggie and Jack after practice...

you were bound to run into trouble, looking like an easy meal

he almost feels... bad for you...

but before he can step in and tell the freshies to buzz off, you...

damn, you've got a mouth on you

you switch up real quick on them, and they scamper off to go lick their wounds

color him impressed...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul was on his way back to the dorm when he heard you shout

you sounded... upset

and as much as he would like to, he can't just walk by and let you get bullied

damn sympathy...

so, he follows the sound of your voice, ready to intervene... on...

...nothing

a group of embarrassed freshman run past him, scattering in the opposite direction

he steps around the corner

and there you are, perfectly fine, if not a little winded

...of course

and he didn't even get to be your hero... tch

"Always full of surprises, aren't you? Just don't give Floyd any of those new words to use,"

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

it's none of his business... it's none of his business...

until it is his business

Jamil wouldn't have come running to your rescue like some prince

but he is in the middle of a civil conversation with you!

how insulting! honestly!

those freshmen must take him for some kind of witless fool

just this once, he'll teach them not to disrespect him...

of course, he doesn't even get a word in

he's never seen anyone so...

so...

...brutal

your insults are poignant, your tone sharp and dangerous, your usage of puns perfect...

you're like a work of art

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has no problem with putting others in their place

and he has a particular dislike of the brutish, arrogant students at NRC

he can actually sense their unwashed presence in the hall before he sees them

one little snide comment and...

...oh...

oh, my

you verbally tear them to shreds, insulting everything from their shoes to their posture, their cowardice, even their own insults

...goodness

he's going to have to have a talk with you about your language later

but, for now...

...he's enjoying this little performance of yours

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Idia starts the most heated discourse over his faves and biases online, but this is different

this is real life

and the second he can feel a shift in the atmosphere, he's hiding behind you

you can handle it yourself, right? you've done it before!

honestly, he has no clue how you deal with the normies at this school

delusion, probably

he'd die if anyone talked to him the way they talk to...

...NEVER MIND!

you're using words he hasn't even heard in real life

even he is freaked out

you can get real scary when you want to, huh?

...maybe he'll just stick with you for now...

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

poor Malleus

he actually kinda sorta wanted to defend your honor...

he could be your fairytale prince!!! he could!!

it's the gentlemanly thing to do, anyway

and, better yet, he wouldn't even have to say anything! just one glare from him and the perpetrators would run screaming

...the one benefit to his reputation

but, of course,

you are not as innocent and weak as you seem

and he can't help but feel... impressed? with your ability to defend yourself

after this is all over, he'll have to joke that you should join his guard

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #queued #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader

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mariasont · 6 months ago

Text

Give This Old Man a Heart Attack - A.H

a/n: incredibly self-indulgent per usual because i'm the biggest cry baby to ever exist

masterlist

₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: you make a mistake that almost gets you killed and hotch has a few choice words about it

warnings: slight angst, happy endings, established relationship, you're in trouble, suggestive ending nothing crazy, hotch is a sucker and gives in way too easily to you

wc: 0.9k

You were an idiot. You were so utterly stupid, and you could feel the heat coursing through you, prickling at your fingertips and scorching your ears. You had braced yourself for this moment all day, but the sheer anger in Hotch's eyes was something no amount of bracing could shield you from.

You were quite accustomed to his eerily tranquil expression, often misleading, like a wolf in sheep's clothing. Today though, you were the focus of that discerning stare.

"Do you understand that gravity of your actions today?"

You were fighting every urge to cry. Confrontation had always been your Achillies' heel, a fact that seemed laughable given your line of work.

You weren't talking about the type of confrontation that came with gunning down unsubs or running into burning buildings. No, it was the intimate kind, the kind that involved the disappointment in the eyes of those you cared about, those you respected, especially him.

So here you stood, tears simmering at the edges of your vision, your hands fidgeting and folding over themselves, knuckles whitening with the pressure.

Your lips parted, ready to speak, to defend yourself, but the rising lump in your throat held the words captive. Silence seemed like the better choice, so you offered a nod instead.

Hotch's hand briefly obscured his face, thumb and middle finger pressing against the bridge of his nose, as he cast a handful of documents onto his desk. They landed haphazardly, a chaotic reflection of the mistakes you made on this case.

"You could've gotten killed." Each word was forced out between clenched teeth. Never a good sign. "In fact, you were this close."

You felt his assessment was inflated, but now was definitely not the right time to point that out. You swallowed the rising retort and cautiously shifted a fraction closer to the desk, eyes flicking to the closed door behind you.

"I'm sorry, Aaron," you said softly, voice betraying the slightest fracture. "It won't happen again."

The sound of your strained syllables caused his head to jerk up. Contrarily, you recoiled, bowing your head into your chest as you feigned interested in the carpet's intricate threads. It was an interesting color.

You failed to register him circling the desk. Not until the space between you was nearly nonexistent. The toe of his shoes just within your field of view. They were semi-brogue oxfords. His favorite.

The accumulated emotions of the week finally broke through, your shoulders trembling as you frantically brushed away the mortifying tears with your sleeve, only to feel his hands on your shoulders, drawing you into his chest.

"No, no," you protested, but the resistance in your voice was absent in your actions, as you found yourself easily giving into the warmth of his chest. "Don't feel bad for me just because I'm crying."

He said nothing, just a faint hum that filled the space, the vibrations sending ripples across your cheek.

"You—, you were reprimanding me," you paused to sniffle, "and I deserve to be reprimanded. I know what I did was stupid."

"It was." His hand lay on your back, thumb circling lightly through your dress shirt, nearly burning through the fabric. "But I'm not going to continue to berate you when I feel as though you've learned your lesson."

"You weren't berating me," you mumble against his shirt.

"I made you cry."

When you looked up, your saw the concern etched on his face, brows pinched, a frown marring his handsome face. His hands cradled your face, thumbs gently clearing the tears as you breathed out a sigh.

"I think you know me well enough to know that it doesn't take much to make me cry."

This was true. You kept your emotions were always close to the surface, whether from happiness, sadness, or sheer frustration.

Once you had sobbed over the unequal lengths of your shoelace bows. Morgan then proceeded to ask if you had ever been tested for autism.

"It doesn't make it any more disheartening to see," he said, shifting his hands to rest on your shoulders. He looked tired and it made you want to cry all over again.

"Would you feel that way if I was Reid?" You asked. It was a loaded question. One you peppered him with often.

You had strived to draw clear lines between your professional and personal lives, but moments like this made it very difficult.

He didn't even bother you with a response, and he didn't need to. You knew the answer.

Another quick look over your shoulder, and you pressed a swift kiss to his lips. There was a moment of hesitation from him, the stickler for rules that he is, but soon his restraint gave way, his hand seeking you with a desperate intensity.

He drew back just enough to study your face, like he was trying to commit every detail to memory, like he was making sure you were really there.

"You really scared me today," he confessed, your foreheads resting together as your eyes locked.

"I know."

"Please don't do that again," he implored, pausing only to plant another quick kiss on your upper lip. "This old man's heart can only take so much."

You beamed at him with a cheeky smile. "I can't make any guarantees."

As you headed for the door, he sent a quick slap to your ass, drawing out a bubbly giggle that vibrated through the room.

That old man's heart definitely might give out after what you had planned for tonight.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner fic #hotchner #hotch #criminal minds #criminal minds fluff #Spotify

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uluvjay · 6 months ago

Text

So sweet- O. Piastri & L. Norris

Oscar Piastri x fem! Reader x Lando Norris x fem! Reader

In which you and Lando celebrate your boyfriend’s birthday your own way..

Warnings?; smut, poly! Relationship, p in v, penetrative sex, unprotected sex( a big no no), handjob (m receiving), switch Lando!, switch reader!, sub Oscar!, kissing, talks of spanking, suggestion of m x m, cursing, pet names, bratty lando, teasing, edging, good boy Oscar, slight food play?, sorry for any errors I missed!

This was supposed to be out weeks ago but writers block is a bitch and I didn’t want it going to waste!

You didn’t even notice what you were doing to your boys, to indulged in the sweetness of the cupcake Jon handed you you failed to notice the way both of your boyfriends eyes had locked on the way your tongue poked out to take a lick of the icing, or how their breaths hitched at the sound of your soft moan at how sweet the taste was.

“You boys should really go get one, these are delicious.” You spoke, eyes still trained on the cupcake in your hand.

You frowned noticing some of the papaya icing on your finger, not thinking twice before popping the digit into your mouth to clean it off.

A soft fuck coming from the British driver had you looking up, freezing the second you caught the looks in both drivers eyes.

Both sets of their eyes darker than their natural color, watching intently as you removed your finger from your mouth.

“What?..” you trailed looking between both men.

“Baby..c-can you eat it normally please?” Oscar spoke up first.

“I am eating it normally?” You defended

Lando groaned at your words, his large hands wasting no time as they pulled you closer by your hips, dipping his head so he could whisper in your ear.

“No, you’re being a fucking tease..sucking your fingers and moaning for everyone to see and hear.”

Your breath hitched at his words, a soft blush covering your cheeks as he pulled back looking down at you with a stern and frustrated expression.

Your eyes dropped down to their black jeans, bulges evident through the dark material everything finally clicked in your mind.

They were getting turned on by watching you eat a cupcake..

Neither of the men liked the smirk that tugged at your lips, their stomachs fluttering as your tongue poked back out this time licking the icing much more seductively.

“I don’t know what you mean, I’m just enjoying my cupcake.” You shrugged turning on your heels to head off towards Lando’s divers room, giggling as you heard both sets of their feet quickly following behind you.

You walked into the room and took a seat on the small couch, not bothering to shut the door as their two large bodies filed in right after you.

You looked up at them innocently, both men standing in front of you- Lando with his arms crossed impatiently and your sweet Aussie with his hands crossed in front of him.

“Can I help you boys with something?” You raised an eyebrow, tongue poking out for another taste of the icing.

“I-we..” Oscar stammered, always having trouble announcing what it was that he truly wanted when it came to sex, his nerves always taking over.

“Oh fuck this.” Lando grumbled, surging forward he snatched the cupcake from your hands, throwing it into the bin next to you before quickly moving to sit beside you and pull you onto his lap.

You didn’t have time to react to his rushed movements before he was pulling you into a heavy kiss, one of his large hands tangling in your hair while the other held your waist.

the mix of your natural taste plus added sweetness of the icing had him him moaning against you.

Feeling the couch shift and added weight you pulled away from the Brit, leaning over to pull Oscar into a kiss, his hands much more hesitant as they pulled you onto his lap.

“You taste so sweet.” He whined as you both pulled away for air.

“Not as sweet as you birthday boy.” You smirked, running a finger along his reddening cheek, basking in the way he leaned into you with a soft sigh.

“This is cute and all but can we fuck already? We only have an hour before practice.” Lando grumbled from beside you two.

Lando’s stomach twisted at the way your lips tugged up into a smirk at your lips, eyes switching between him and the brunette sat below you.

“Why don’t we let the birthday boy pick?” You spoke up, “What do you think Osc? Should I fuck you while Lando watches or does he deserve a little something too?”

Oscar whimpered at your words, eyes looking over at his now pouting boyfriend whose hard cock was pushing against the tight material of his jeans and he couldn’t help but feel his mouth water at the thought of Lando’s thick cock.

“W-want you to ride me while i touch lan..” he mumbled with a quick please following close behind.

You hummed happily at his words, moving back slightly to pull him from the restraints of his jeans and boxers, basking in his small moan as his cock sprung free.

“Always such a good boy for me Osc, so polite and patient.” You praised however your eyes were trained on the pouting Brit beside you, his arms crossed as he watched you slowly stroke Oscar’s length.

“Take your cock out lan, don’t leave our good boy waiting.” You instructed, both you and Oscar watching intently as he grumbled under his breath but still did as you said.

The sight of his thick and needy cock causing Oscar to whimper and immediately reach out for his boyfriend, stroking his cock at the same pace your hand moved on his.

You watched on as the pleasure took over Lando’s once bratty demeanor, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tipped back and his nails dug into the arm of the couch.

“Fuck.” He whimpered as Oscar flexed his wrist, his thumb running over Lando’s dripping tip.

You did the same to the Aussie causing small whines of his own to escape the back of his throat as his eyes moved back to you.

It was his and Lando’s turn to watch as you pushed your panties to the side under your dress and moved to hover over Oscar’s cock, air getting stuck in your throat as you sunk down on him.

Both men watched in awe as you took all of Oscar’s length, sharing a mutual moan of need at the way your body shook once you reached the base of his cock.

“So good.” You hissed as you got used to his size, it didn’t matter how many times you had either of them, you always needed time to adjust.

You soon began to rock your hips, hands resting on the back of the couch as you kept eye contact with the sweet boy below you, enjoying the way his face contorted into different signs of pleasure.

Lando watched from the side as your cunt greedily took Oscar, your tits slowly starting to spill over the top of your dress as your bounces began to pick up pace, causing the boy to whine with want.

Your smirk returned at the way Lando’s pretty eyes were locked in your breasts and you couldn’t help yourself when you pulled the top down allowing them to spill free.

Oscar wasted no time in dipping forward and taking one into his mouth, a cry leaving you as his lips wrapped around one of your buds, his teeth lightly nipping before he calmed the stinging with a roll of his tongue, his left hand still working your boyfriends cock.

“C-can I please have a taste? Please.” Lando finally spoke after a minute of watching Oscar devour your breasts, fresh marks now littering your skin.

“You think he deserves a taste Oscar?”

“Mhm, been good for me.” Oscar mumbled into your skin, his lips returning right after he finished his sentence.

You gave Lando a curt nod and soon he was on the other breast like a starved man, sloppy wet kisses all over your skin, his tongue tracing the shape of your nipple before he took the bud between his teeth lightly.

“Oh god” you moaned at the mixed sensation of Oscar’s cock hitting you so deep and having both of their mouths on you, your hands coming up to cup the back of their heads.

“M’ getting close boys, fuck!” You cried.

You pushed both of them back as the feeling in your lower stomach began to increase, grinding down on Oscar’s length as you desperately chased your release, body shaking as you tipped over the edge.

Oscar wasn’t far behind, the clenching of your cunt brining him to the edge as he cried out, filling you to the brim with his release.

You zoned out for a moment until a familiar whine sounded from beside you, looking over you found Lando with a swollen and throbbing cock.

With a teasing pout you wrapped your hand around his cock replacing Oscar’s much larger one that now rested on the Brits thigh.

“Oscar leave you hanging baby?” You smirked at the boy.

He nodded in reply, the pleasure becoming to strong for him to form anything more than a few mumbles and breathless moans.

You knew he was close when he started thrusting into your hand, his moans raising in volume as his hips began to stutter and soon your hand was covered in his warm release.

He dropped back against the couch, his chest heaving as he recovered from his powerful orgasm after two denied ones from Oscar.

You smiled at your boyfriend before bringing your hand to your mouth, making sure to clean it of Lando’s release before pulling Oscar into a breathless kiss.

It was silent for a while after you two pulled away, a comfortable silence filling the room as everyone regained their strength.

“That was fun.” Lando broke the silence, “But you two will most definitely be paying for that later.” He sat up eyes locking with yours, a dark look swirling in them before he moved onto Oscar.

The Brit went to open his mouth but a knock sounding on the door cut him off before he could.

“Thirty minutes till practice, get dressed please.” Jon announced waiting for a ‘okay’ from Lando before he retreated back to the garage.

The boy below you whimpered as you moved to get off of his softening cock, you whispered small apologies as you slid off moving to stand in front of him as you fixed yourself.

Oscar tucked himself away before standing on shaky legs of his own, his hands pulling you into his embrace as he held you close.

Lando didn’t bother putting himself away, instead stripping down completely and pulling on his fireproofs before his racing suit.

“You gotta go get ready osc.” You cooed in the boys ear, hand running up and down his back.

Oscar frowned at your words a small grumbled escaping him as he held you tighter.

“Just go get your things and get ready in here baby, we’ll be right here when you come back.” Lando spoke up.

With a bit more pushing Oscar finally separated from you, giving Lando a small kiss as he passed on his way to go get his things.

You made your way to sit on Lando’s massage table, the boy coming to stand between your spread legs as you wrapped them around his back.

“As hot as your little stunt was, your ass will be sorry for it later.” He smirked into your neck as he left wet kisses against the skin.

“Don’t tease me now baby.” You smirked earning you a giggle from Lando as he pulled back with a shake of his head.

“What am I gonna do with you huh?”

“Spank me.” You shrugged hands sliding around his neck.

“Who’s getting spanked?” Oscar questioned curiously as he walked back into the room, door shutting quickly behind him.

“Me” you smirked looking up at Lando with nothing but amusement in your eyes.

“Maybe it shouldn’t be a punishment anymore if you like it that much.” The Brit tutted with a shake of his head.

“What do you think osc? should I edge her instead, maybe make her watch me fuck you silly like she made me watch?” He continued looking over at your boyfriend.

“Wait! That’s no-“ you tried but Lando once again spoke up.

“You’re the birthday boy baby, you get to pick.”

Oscar looked at your reddened face, a pout similar to Lando’s earlier one now present as your thighs began to rub together.

“Can I think about it? Get back to you after practice?”

Your eyes almost bulged out of your head at his words, watching as they both zipped up their suits and made way for the door.

“Take as long as you need baby.” Lando smiled, leaning in to give the boy a kiss.

“Wait, boys, can we talk about this now..please?” You questioned as you shoved yourself between them in the hallway, body now squeezed between their frames.

“Sorry baby, duty calls but we’ll see you after Kay?” Lando smirked leaning down to press his lips against yours before moving forward to where Jon was.

“Love you pretty girl.” Oscar spoke, giving you a kiss as well before going to his side of the garage.

“What did I get myself into”

Happy very late birthday Oscar! Sorry my writers block was a pain in the ass

#lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris smut #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando x oscar #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #landoscar #landoscar smut #poly! f1 #poly!f1

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shadykazama · 2 months ago

Text

Sun Wukong/The destined one (mostly relationship) headcanons!

The people have spoken and the people crave monkey business. So let's get down to it!

❤

Post journey Wukong is a wiser, stronger monkey, but don't let him fool you he's still a trickster at heart.

When you first meet, he has you refer to him as 'Great Sage'.

Earning the right to say his given name isn't so much a big moment as it is just him beginning to care for you. You slip up, whether it be because you were sick or injured or just not thinking, and he doesn't correct you. In fact he kind of likes it.

He doesn't make a big deal out of it, but if you watch closely you can see his tail twitch and his eyes lost in thought.

One character flaw you'll have to deal with, even when you're just friends, is Wukong thinks he knows what's best. He's old and wisened and POWERFUL; if he thinks he knows something will be best for you, he'll do it without so much as telling you.

Credit to Hanibalistic! Their one shot about Wukong and stealing an immortal peach for a mortal reader was perfect and exactly how I think he'd act! That impulsive, "I care about this person and will do what I think is best for them regardless of the consequences or their opinion" is very... him.

Hey, we all have our flaws. (Just don't tell him that.)

On the positive side, he wouldn't let a scratch befall you. At some point you'll stop instinctually defending yourself because of how safe you feel with him. Which is heavily ironic considering how often he himself will put you in dangerous situations just to pull a prank.

But besides your poor heart from getting scared so often, you have nothing to worry about. Wukong won't leave room for even one mistake to slip by him.

Expect him to never call you by your name, almost ever. He chronically tends to call people by titles or nicknames. From calling the tang monk, master, or how he'd call Bajie 'idiot' for most of the book- just expect something. He'd only refer to you by name if he were really serious.

Something I personally find really funny that isn't represented in many medias with him is that he's OLD. He's old as hell and he knows it. In the book he'll often refer to basically everyone as 'nephew' or 'little brother' which is oddly endearing and also really funny.

I feel as though most people don't utilize how heavy he is- even in movies and stuff. His staff is like thousands of pounds! You aren't moving him unless he wants you to. God forbid you end up cuddling. Even while resting I never think he'd put his full weight on you, but you'd definitely be stuck.

Will never refuse to help you, but will tease you endlessly for needing it. "Helpless little thing aren't you?"

His love language is gift giving and acts of service.

He's impulsive with words, but look at how he treats you and you'll see how he cares.

Considering his connections, expect to have the world at your fingertips. He'll never leave you wanting, you'll always be satisfied. There is no gift beyond his reach. Just be careful what you ask for, because he WILL get it one way or another.

He is a king, a leader- it's basically second nature to be serviced, and that's why it's so important how he acts toward you. For you, he stays vigilant, ready to catch you if you fall or feed you when you're hungry. For you, he'll carry you in his arms if you're tired. For you he'd put himself in servitude.

Monkeys also show affection to one another by grabbing at each other for attention, and grooming one another's hair.

I don't think he'd have any trouble getting your attention, he's very vocal! So he'd focus more on your hair. Don't be surprised if he randomly starts combing through with his fingers or just playing with it. It's calming for him, and another form of affection.

You've changed him for the better... And for the worse. He happier, more content and occupied (which is good for everyone). BUT, should you ever disappear or get stolen from him he would surely devastate heaven and earth to get you back. The last thing anyone needs is another, more wrathful, Wukong rampage.

Expect to get shown off at every convenience! You're his king/queen and he'll make sure everyone knows it.

You have the BIGGEST wedding. And I think the best part would've been the Chuangmen, which is a wedding game tradition, usually meant for the groom to prove his loyalty, devotion, and desire to marry the bride by completing tests made by her bridesmaids. There are a ton of really interesting Chinese wedding traditions that I would recommend reading about, but with the sheer power of Wukong, these challenges in particular could've been absolutely ridiculous!

Wukong isn't jealous, no that would be ridiculous, he has nothing to fear. That by no means doesn't mean that he doesn't get offended on your behalf. He's gotten upset at not being greeted properly, there's no way in HELL he doesn't get pissed if someone were to flirt with you. They're lucky if all he does is kill them.

Feel free to make fun of him for not being able to swim. He'll absolutely make you regret it, but do it anyway it'll be funny.

Am I the only one that thinks he'd be great with kids? 🤚

Like COME ON- the dude probably helps take care of the baby monkeys on his mountain. He tells them cool stories to get them riled up. Will lay down and let them play with his hair while you read or sing to him.

Give this man kids I dare you.

That's a topic for a different post 😌

Likes kissing you on the top of the head, will also lay his forehead against yours just to be close to you.

These two designs I really like for him! Y'all let me know in the comments which version is your favorite <3

💙

The destined one may look like Wukong, but they're certainly different in... most areas.

Being selectively mute makes things a good share more difficult to communicate with him than Wukong, but it has it's charms.

You'd just been... tagging along with him. He didn't mind, unlike the wolves and undead he'd been beating through, you proved no threat to him.

He figured you would just leave on your own- or die. But by some miracle even he didn't understand, you stuck by him through rain and dust storms alike. By the time you made it to the New West he felt obligated to keep you around.

For the first time since you started following him, you were actually in danger. And to both of your surprises, he dropped what he was doing to protect you.

Don't bother asking him why. Whether you do, or simply tell him thank you, he'll just wave you off. But you notice him walking closer to you than normal after that. No longer were you left to catch up with him while he sprinted off; he'd keep stride with you now, glancing at you every now and then.

He CAN talk, and he probably surprises you the first time he does. It's not even for something important. It's just one fateful night where you happen to decide to mess with his hair. You'd pull away after a moment and he'd rumble out a little, "Don't stop."

Now that you KNOW he can talk, it's even more annoying when he refuses to answer you.

He finds it amusing when you get frustrated with him about it. He can't help it. The whole time you're grumbling or ranting at him, he's just staring at you with his stoic face... thinking about how cute you are.

Feel free to give him a name. Not like he'll argue with whatever you pick-

But really, please call him something other than "the destined one". He'd never really needed a name before, but he'd treasure whatever you decide to call him.

He probably has a nickname for you too, he just only says it in his head...

Will click his tongue at you to get your attention. (Absolutely does the 'tsk tsk tsk' thing people do to call their cats)

Speaking of getting your attention- ^ remember how monkeys show affection by just kind of grabbing each other and squeezing and pressing their head against each other?

Yeeeeah. He's a touchy monkey. He won't ask for affection, so he kind of just does it himself. Will rub his head on you, not unlike how cats or rabbits do to mark things they like. Except he's just doing it to be affectionate.

Gets cuteness aggression and WILL just grab you.

If it wasn't obvious, his love languages are physical touch and quality time.

Doesn't need help putting armor on, but if you want to help he won't stop you. (The closeness makes his heart beat fast)

If you were ever both in a bad spot- being threatened and not in a place to put up a good fight, he'd cover your body with his and bare his fangs at whatever was trying to hurt you guys to intimidate it. (It probably wouldn't work- but it's an instinctual response.)

If your feet got cold in the snow in the New West he'd pick you up and let you rest on his back for awhile.

Likes when you rely on him like that, it makes him feel stronger. And besides it just "being his destiny", knowing you'll get hurt if he loses helps him focus during fights.

Terribly jealous individual.

The glare he would give someone is straight up deadly. Watch out for how his tail flicks around when he's irritated too 🤭.

Absolutely adores the sound of your voice, it could bring him out of a coma fr.

Doesn't mind being little or big spoon, he just likes cuddling. Wraps his tail around you when you do.

Always always makes sure you eat before he does, even though he's the one doing all the fighting.

Will let you win play fights (most of the time).

Hearing him laugh is the cutest thing ever I swear- It probably took you off guard the first time you manage it.

Doesn't know how to take compliments.

Probably short circuited the first time you complimented his appearance.

Very gentle, slow kisser. Likes having you in his lap, but will grab cheeky kisses every now and then too. Will tilt your chin up when you kiss, every time.

Art by @marcu-bug

#sun wukong #black myth wukong #the destined one #headcanons #x reader #journey to the west #sun wukong x reader #the destined one x reader

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goldfades · 6 months ago

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𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐒𝐒; 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "oh my gosh, paige bueckers x uconn wbb athletic trainer intern with a situation at a game where paige gets a bloody nose (like the uconn vs seton hall) and paige like refusing to get cleaned up and reader like commands.. (i feel so silly typing this) but basically forces paige to let reader clean her up and the internet GOES CRAZY BC OF THE WAY UR HOLDING PAIGES FACE AND THE CLEAR TENSION BETWEEN YOU TWO (reader and paige can be like friends with clear sexual tension or secret relationship whatever u like girl pop 😛)"

─ word count | 1.7k

─ warnings | friends with tension type shit!!!!! mention of aggressive playing, paige being slightly mean (due to her being frustrated), descriptions of blood noses, kissing and making up,

─ ev's notes | i saw that video and IMMEDIATELY saved it to camera roll, i am so down bad

THE GAME WAS going pretty well up until the second half, everyone was playing aggressive and obviously, that was when people got hurt.

Usually, Paige tried her best to stay out of trouble. But tonight was different, these players were too cocky for their own good and Paige knew she had to humble them really quick.

As the second half kicked off, Paige felt a surge of determination. She dribbled past defenders with profencity, her moves as smooth as silk. As Paige drove towards the basket, weaving through defenders, one player decided to play dirty. With a swift elbow to the face, Paige staggered backward, feeling a sharp pain erupt in her nose.

Blood gushed from her nostrils, staining her jersey crimson. For a moment, the gym fell silent as everyone watched in shock. But Paige refused to let the pain stop her. She wiped away the blood, her determination burning brighter than ever.

Paige's frustration bubbled over, but she knew arguing with the referee wouldn't change the call. With a heavy sigh, she begrudgingly made her way to the bench, her jaw clenched with pent-up anger.

Paige stormed to the bench, her nostrils still dripping with blood. She clenched her fists, struggling to rein in her anger as you, the team medic, made your way toward her. She caught your worried gaze as she got up from the bench, pacing as she kept arguing with, you really weren't sure at this point.

Her teammates exchanged worried glances, knowing that Paige's fiery temper could sometimes get the best of her. But they also understood her frustration. They had felt the sting of unfair calls and dirty plays themselves.

"I'll put you back in when I know you're hot hurt and angry," Geno urged, his tone firm. "We can't afford to lose you to a technical foul or worse."

"I'm fine," she mumbled as she sent her coach a glare. You tried to dap the blood on her face with a towel but she moved her head away, her stubbornness getting the best of her. "I'm fine, for God's sake," her voice came out annoyed as she gripped your arm, pushing you away.

You felt a rush of frustration and something else — something you couldn't quite name — as Paige pushed you away, her grip on your arm firm but fleeting. It wasn't the first time her stubbornness had grated on your nerves, but there was something different about the way she looked at you, the way she touched you.

"Hey, look at me." You spoke sternly, only to be ignored. "Hey, I'm the damn medic and I'm telling you to sit the hell down so I can get you back out there, do you get that? Or you can't hear me now?"

When she ignored you for the second time, your patience with her finally snapped. You grabbed her arm and pulled her into the bench, gripping her face as you began cleaning up the blood on her face.

Paige's annoyance was evident as she glared up at you, but didn't say another word. She knew how you got when she didn't listen to you and she didn't wanna feel your wrath right about now. However, she just couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"Would you just lay off already?" she snapped, her voice sharp with frustration as she jerked her face away from your touch. "I don't need you bossing me around like some child."

"You're acting a fucking child, you need to relax and trust your teammates." You snapped back, Paige's eyebrows furrowing in anger as she let you continue clean her up.

As you wiped away the blood, your movements were firm yet gentle, your touch a silent reassurance that despite your clash, you were still there for her. And though Paige remained stubbornly silent, her gaze softened ever so slightly as she watched you work.

"Paige, I just want what's best for you," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "I know you're strong, but even the strongest of us need help sometimes."

Paige's gaze softened, her anger dissipating quickly. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment to regain her thoughts ─ she knew that you were her soft spot, a place of comfort and understanding in a world that often felt overwhelming.

As she opened her eyes, she found herself gazing into yours, a warmth spreading through her chest at the sight of your familiar face. With a sigh, Paige leaned into your touch, a silent admission of acceptance.

"I know, I'm sorry for snapping at you," Paige murmured, her voice soft.

You nodded in understanding, your gaze never leaving hers. "I get it," you replied, your voice gentle as you continued to brush her hair back from her face.

You finished up cleaning her nose and she sighed, her shoulders relaxing as the last of the tension seemed to drain from her body. As you finished cleaning her nose, Paige let out a deep sigh, the weight of her earlier outburst lifting from her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said softly, her voice filled with gratitude as she met your gaze. "I appreciate it."

You smiled, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words. "Of course, Paige," you replied, your voice gentle as you tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "I'm just glad you're okay."

But before she could respond, she heard her coach call out for her. She gave you a quick smile as she jogged up to Geno, her steps lighter now that the tension had been lifted. You watched her go with a sense of relief, glad to see her back.

As Paige jogged up to Geno, you couldn't help but admire the way she carried herself with confidence.

──

"Hey," Paige's voice rang out in the empty medical room as you glanced back at her with a smile, your head turning back to the task at hand as you heard Paige's footsteps toward you.

"Hi," you replied, your fingertips stretching as you attempted to reach the tissue box perched on the top shelf. Paige let out a soft laugh as she reached over your shoulder, effortlessly grabbing the tissues and passing them to you.

You blushed under her gaze, your fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment as you took the box. "Thank you, P."

The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down your spine, a sensation you couldn't quite shake as you turned back to the task at hand. Paige smiled back, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she leaned against the counter beside you.

"No problem," she replied, her voice soft but filled with amusement. "So about the game..."

"Don't worry about it, it was in the heat of the moment." You answered quickly as you glanced back the blonde. You could see the guilt in her expression as her gaze lingered on yours, a flicker of regret dancing in her eyes. But before you could say anything else, Paige spoke up, her voice tinged with sincerity.

"I'm really sorry for snapping at you earlier," she said, her tone earnest as she met your gaze. "I know I can be a handful sometimes, especially when I'm worked up."

You smiled, a wave of understanding washing over you at her words. "It's okay, really," you replied gently, your voice soft but reassuring. "And I know how to handle you when you get like that, and I know you didn't mean it."

Paige's lips turned upward as she heard you talk, her shoulders relaxing visibly as a sense of relief washed over her. "Thanks for putting up with me, even when I'm being a bitch."

You let a small laugh as you shook your head, looking back at the blonde with a sense adoration. You felt your stomach do a flip as you met Paige's gaze, a warmth spreading through your chest at her words.

"Hey, you're not an ass," you replied, your voice filled with genuine affection. "You're just passionate, and I admire that about you."

"Oh come on, you don't have to get all professional on me now." Paige joked as she gazed at you.

You shook your head, sincerity in your voice as you spoke. "No, I'm being honest. Seriously, that's one of the million other things I admire about you," you spoke softly as Paige's amused expression dissipated into a soft one.

You felt the atmosphere shift slight as Paige gazed back at you, you thought your heart was going to jump out of your chest with how fast it was beating.

Paige leaned closer before she spoke, her voice much softer than before. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the soft hum of the room. "That means a lot to me, coming from you."

You felt your breath catch in your throat as Paige leaned even closer, the air between you crackling with an electric intensity that left you both breathless. With a soft smile, she reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face, her touch lingering as you savored the closeness to Paige.

Paige's hand cupped your cheek as she leaned in slowly, her lips barely touching yours in an almost-kiss. She then pushed your lips into hers, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you as your lips met in a sweet, tentative kiss. The world seemed to fall away around you, leaving only the warmth of Paige's touch and the gentle press of her lips against yours.

With a soft sigh, you melted into the kiss, your hands finding their way to Paige's hair as you pulled her closer, your heart pounding in your chest with a wild abandon. As the kiss deepened, you found yourself lost in the sensation, the taste of Paige's lips against yours intoxicating and exhilarating all at once.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you lost yourself in the sweetness of the kiss, the softness of Paige's lips against your own filling you with a sense of warmth and longing that you had never known before.

When you finally pulled away, breathless and dizzy with emotion, you found yourself gazing into Paige's eyes, the depth of her gaze reflecting the same feelings swirling within your own.

"Wow," Paige whispered, her voice barely above a murmur as she leaned her forehead against yours, her breath warm against your skin. "I've been wanting to do that for a long time."

You smiled, a rush of joy and relief flooding through you at Paige's words. "Me too," you admitted softly. With a soft smile, you reached out to take Paige's hand in yours, the warmth of her touch sending a surge of warmth through you.

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

#uconn #uconn wbb #wcbb x reader #wcbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #paige #paige bueckers #paige bueckers fanfiction #uconn huskies #paige bueckers fluff #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers x oc #paige bueckers headcannons #paige bueckers fic #uconn women’s basketball

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gravity-barbie · 3 months ago

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The Hargreeves' reactions to you getting catcalled

A/N: Sorry, I think I accidentally deleted the original request for this, because I could not find it anywhere

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther is shocked and outraged, getting up in the perpetrator’s face immediately, and probably scaring the crap out of them with that stature of his

-As much as he thinks the person deserves a good beating, they’re already pretty much at his mercy so instead he just demands an apology for you

-He’s so soft and considerate to you afterwards, triple checking that you’re okay and questioning if there’s anything else he can do, literally anything

-The incident makes him more protective, he’s always volunteering to accompany you when you go out, and pretty much insists if he thinks the area you’re headed seems shady

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego already hates catcalling but the fact that it’s directed at you just makes him extra pissed, slightly unhinged even, he advances on them while yelling insults, fully ready to get violent

-Even if you want and are able to drag him away, he’s probably already hatching a plan to come back for some vigilante justice later

-He’s pretty heated, but he does recognise that you must feel way worse than him and that he should prioritise your feelings, checking if you’re alright, and even if you brush it off he’s perceptive enough to get a read on how you really feel

-If you’re very upset, despite his anger he gets a hold of himself and turns into the sweetest marshmallow while trying to comfort you

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison tenses up, checking your reaction first and foremost, if you want to ignore it and get out of there she’ll just put a protective hand on you and usher you forward

-But if not, or if the catcaller is being persistent, she is more than willing to confront them and make them regret ever opening their disgusting mouth

-Depending on her relationship with her power at the time she’d be quick to rumour them, probably not physically hurt them (depending on how graphic they were being) but at the very least put the fear of god in them

-She’s had a lot of experience with things like this, so she comforts you with a lot of understanding and empathy, pretty accurately predicting your feelings and needs

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus’ policy has always been to brush off stuff like this with a sassy remark and move on, he wishes he was the type of person that could easily defend you but he just isn’t

-He does have the urge to talk shit back to them, even to his own detriment, and if he was alone he might, but you’re here and he’s not going to risk any further trouble for you by causing a scene

-He asks if you’re okay but otherwise tries to change the topic and lighten the atmosphere pretty quickly, he does care of course, he just thinks the best thing he can do is cheer you up

-Maybe later when you’re less shaken he’ll bring it up again, just to see if you’re really okay, let you vent if you need to or see if there’s anything he can do

Five Hargreeves

-Five is caught somewhere between wanting to ignore it and wanting to pull out those assassin skills of his

-It depends on how you react, if you just huff and keep walking he’ll ask if you’re alright but drop it when you do, if you seem shaken up though, there’s no way he’s letting it go

-Internally he’s livid, but he acts more cocky than anything else as he gives them both a physical and verbal beating, finishing it off with a warning that they better not harass anyone again

-He isn’t good at comfort, he’ll never bring this up again if you don’t, but if you do want to talk he’s there for you, trying his best to offer the kindness you need

Viktor Hargreeves

-On pure instinct Viktor confronts them, not before manoeuvring you protectively behind him though

-His exterior is icy, and way more dangerous than this person realises, if they don’t back down he won’t hesitate to pull his powers out to back up his warning, after all he’s had a bad experience with this kind of thing before

-Though if you try to pull him away, for your sake he’ll go, since your comfort and sense of safety is more important than his righteous anger, the fear alone will teach them a lesson anyway

-He’s very sweet and attentive afterwards, and whether you need silence, to vent or to be distracted he's got you covered

#the umbrella academy #tua x reader #tua x you #the umbrella academy imagine #luther hargreeves x reader #diego hargreaves x reader #allison hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #viktor hargreeves x reader

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wh1msic4lwasab1 · 7 months ago

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“𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐫?” ✮⋆˙

synopsis: you give Neuvillette head under his desk during a trial in court

tags: oral, voyeurism, exhibitionism, vulgar, explicit

wrd cnt: 300+

a/n: rewrite/repost from first acc! ( hehe this is my most liked post ever )

Imagine giving Neuvilette the most amazing head while he's in court, actively being a judge.

You sit under the desk, knees bent and the wood covering your body that's sitting right between his thighs. You start by kissing his lower stomach, feeling a few jolts from his leg.

Then you kiss the top of shaft, working your way down.

And Neuvi, holding back so many noises while being present in the hearing.

Quiet hicks of breathe fall silent, as he has to fist his hands into a ball and grit his teeth while you suck on his pretty cock tip, your tongue sliding up and down his dick, his eyes sometimes looking down at you in between the defendants sentences, watching you devour him while he’s close to tears.

You take that opportunity to pull his cock out of your mouth, and slap it into your tongue while giving his tip a small kiss, driving him absolutely mad, and utterly embarrassed.

"Fuck y/n..." He mumbles.

"Your honor?" The defendant says.

"N-nothing, my apologies. Please...please continue Sir." Neuvillete says, while his eyes drop down to look at you again, eager for you to make him feel good.

He's already came a few times, it's amazing how much of his cum has been spilling into your mouth, some spilling out the corners and dripping down to your chest.

If his hand ever drops to his side, off the desk, you'll be quick to suck on his fingers, and guide his hand down to your breast, letting him spread his cum all over your breast, letting him play with them before putting them back into a fist and resting on the table after you suck them clean.

All while the court stares at him, awaiting the Ludex's commentary. His hand palming his face, as tears begin to form in his eyes, the pleasure almost too much.

As the trial goes on, you get more and make ballsy.

And that’s just too much for Neuvillette, who’s already spilled every essence he had into your mouth.

The minute he starts to shoot blanks is when trouble truly starts, as he can’t help but delay the trial. He gives the court some bullshit excuse, but really he can’t go on with his cock just inside your mouth.

You've got him absolutely struck.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

#jo’s posts #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin smut #neuvillette genshin #neuvillete x reader #neuvillette smut #genshin neuvillette #neuvillette #neuvilette genshin #neuvillete

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soobnny · 2 years ago

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kiss me — lee minho.

trope. established relationship. just fluff and a lot of making out. minho is needy

synopsis. your favorite genre of lee minho is when he’s needy and begging for your kisses after a long exhausting day

word count. 1.4k words

warnings. kind of suggestive but not rly ? just lots of kissing so neck kisses and making out but nothing more

note. i can’t defend myself im sorry minho’s lips r just so pretty and kissable that i had to write about it

You think your favorite genre of Lee Minho is when he’s needy.

He barely makes an appearance, but when he does, he always takes you by full force. It doesn’t help that with this neediness comes a softness that had always been in the boy, but rarely showed.

Now that you’re dating, though, this intertwine of softness and neediness shows a little more often than when you were tiptoeing the thin, undistinguishable line between friends and lovers. It’s different from the care he displays to his friends, where he’s teasing, but you know he’s listening. It’s not quite like the one he shows his family either.

With you comes a particular softness that’s reserved for you only.

Like right now.

It’s an odd hour in the night, just close to midnight when he comes home. It’s the nth time he’s complaining about practice, sputtering loud whines about how coming up with the choreography had taken a much longer time than he had anticipated, stretching practice out longer than usual, and how this could’ve been time to spend with you.

Disdain drips from his tongue as he peels his jacket off of him, shamelessly zipping it down in front of you before tossing it aside in the laundry bin. “Just gonna shower, okay?”

His statement comes accompanied with a kiss to your jaw, and then he’s off to the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long before he’s walking out with wet hair arranged messily over his forehead, and you admit without shame how good he looks shirtless, wearing only a pair of sweatpants with a towel in hand to continue drying his hair.

“Stay awake for me, pretty girl.”

It is with selfishness that Minho asks you to stay up for just a little longer as he searches for a plain shirt to wear to bed. How could he not act on it? He had been thinking of kissing you hours ago, and he couldn’t wait until morning to feel your lips against his.

“Mkay…” He smiles at your persistence to stay awake for him, that gentleness peeking just a little as he takes a mental note of the way you scrunch your nose to keep your yawn in. He’ll save this memory to think about if practice runs a little too long again tomorrow.

The whiff of his laundry detergent is strong enough to peel your eyes open as he places himself beside you on his bed, and automatically, his arm makes its way around your waist.

You wonder what his motive is – it seems like he’s expecting something from the way his fingers tap at your hip, and the way it seems like he’s holding himself back from doing something. But Lee Minho is an impatient man, and it only takes about two minutes before he’s tugging at your shirt, sporting a feigned pout.

And then it all clicks.

You know this is his way of asking you to sit on his lap. Lee Minho has always been much more comfortable with showing his love through acts of service, however, he is still a man in love and in need of physical touch from the one person that matters the most in his life from time to time.

And years of knowing him would teach you that he has always had trouble with voicing his more physical concerns as he has never been outwardly touchy. Those years have also taught you of his little hints.

Like right now, when he’s tugging at your shirt.

A relieved sigh escapes his lips when you finally comply. Especially when most of the time you’d let him fight for it, enjoying the way his face would glow in heftiness over your demands of him telling you what he wants – but you really don’t think he’s in the mood.

He must’ve been so exhausted after practice to allow his neediness to make an appearance, even to the point of a whine almost spilling at his lips when you don’t respond to his tugging right away.

But you’re on his lap now, and that’s what matters the most to him. His hands immediately hike up your shirt, fingers sliding through your bare skin to claim their home in the curves and slopes of your body, the ones he’s memorized all too well.

“My needy boy is so cute.” You giggle.

There’s teasing laced in your voice when he leans down to comfortably rest his head on the crook of your neck, taking your hand and dropping it on his head as a sign for you to run your hand through it.

“Shut up.” Minho grumbles in response, fingers tracing little patterns over the skin he can reach.

He hums in satisfaction when you tug at his hair, the way he likes it, and you feel the ghost of a smile form on his face. When he lifts his hips up, you know it’s another hint that he wants you to move closer than you already were.

“Want me to kiss you?”

“Don’t make me say it.” He groans as he peels his head from your neck, lips moving to press against yours the moment you mention it but you move away just as quickly, dodging away from his kiss.

“So, you don’t want me to kiss you?” Minho’s groans grow louder, grip tightening on your waist gently to tell you what he wants. “(Name), please.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You laugh quietly, leaning forward this time to place a wet peck on his lips.

The simple gesture makes him fumbly, fingers moving to stroke your back before coming back down to caress your waist. Lee Minho is always so vulnerable when you kiss him like that, hands feeling him up after long hours at practice.

He looks at you with so much fondness beneath his hooded eyes before he makes a move to drag his lips down your neck so you don’t take notice of his unusually red face. His damp hair tickles a little, but you don’t mind – not when the sight of the man sitting beneath you, so hazy and soft, was entirely different to the Lee Minho the world thinks they know.

“You did good today.” You tap the back of his neck to get his attention, and almost immediately he’s looking back at you, at your eyes, then at your lips, and back to your eyes.

His eyes are a little blown out, but you can’t quite tell, not when he’s closing them and leaning in to kiss you. And his lips slot against yours perfectly, like they always do, but there’s more fervor and desperation in the way he’s kissing you right now, tongue running over your lower lip just so he can get more of you.

“Not tired yet?” You mumble against his lips, and he simply shakes his head, only pulling away when he can no longer control his breathing. He has a stupid smile on his face.

He allows himself to look at you for a few seconds, and the sight of your gentle smile and your messy hair and the flush pinkess of your lips, and the way you look down at him – mirroring the same amount of love he feels for you.

A sharp breath leaves his nose at the intimacy of the moment, and he’s hit again with just how much he really loves you that he feels the need to say it out loud. He doesn’t say it enough. He thinks he should work on saying it more.

“Love you.” Minho says it so softly, but in the quiet of his bedroom, you hear it clearly.

“I love you too.”

“You love me too?” He still feels the need to verify, pressing a soft kiss on your shoulder before moving to work their way back to your lips.

“I do. A lot.”

“Hmmm.” The atmosphere is silent when he pulls away from your skin, head tilted back, open-mouthed and eyes hooded as he breathes you in. “Come give me another kiss.”

And you do.

Lee Minho would never admit out loud, but you’ve got him terrifyingly wrapped around your finger.

He is so, so stupidly in love with you, in a lovesick, comforting kind of way and from the way you’re smiling and giggling right now, he considers giving his needy and soft side more screen time in the future just for you.

And only ever for you.

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