#i can get my computer back today and i imagine setting it back up will take a while but at least i can play refind self

[organised-disaster]

I downloaded IbisPaint so I could animate things at some point. I've never animated before and decided to make an animation of a guy blinking one eye at a time and when I'd realised it had gotten away from me I couldn't be bothered to fix it

Here he is as a gif because you'd want him for some reason

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining being nervous around the 141 and yet STILL garnering their attention.

Like, you've done everything in your power NOT to get noticed. You're as happy as a clam to work on all the behind the scenes issues. You don't even go out on the field!

You're the one to get gear in place, you're the one talking to Nik and supervising the equipment repairs. You make sure the armory is stocked and that the showers aren't running with rusty water.

You really DON'T want any eyes on you.

You just want to do your job and do it in fucking peace.

So why the hell are they always wanting your attention?

-

"There she is. Keepin' everything in order while 'm gone." Price chuckles, placing a hand on your back as he passes through the armory's narrow shelves. "Looking to take my spot as Captain hm, Love?"

You bury your face into your clipboard, trying desperately to ignore him. He's not going away but God do you want him to. His presence is always so overwhelming and his gaze so pointed. If you could shrink into nothingness you'd try.

-

"Oi, Bonnie!" Soap calls out to you at mess. He waves his arms wildly, making everyone look his way. "C'mere! Sit w' us today!"

He's so loud his voice echoes across the cafeteria. Recruits and lower ranking members shrink at the sound of it. So do you, even though you can hear only excitement in his tone instead of the usual ire he employs while training the rookies.

You know that if you decide to sit with your friends you'll never hear the end of it. But if you choose to sit with him and the rest of the all star task force you'll be under their gazes for the better part of the morning. You want to just drop your lunch tray and run out, but on unsteady legs and a bowed head you shuffle to the table.

-

"Well well, look who it is." Gaz huffs, looking up from his terminal set up in the surveillance room. "Thanks for packing those extra headset chords for me."

"Uh...yeah, no problem." You nod, trying to ignore him while simultaneously digging in an old box full of wires.

"Whatcha lookin' for?"

"Uh...a mouse. A wireless one."

"Here, take mine." He smiles, unplugging the tiny chip from the side of his laptop. "Need a new one anyway."

"It's alright I-"

"Just take it. You deserve it more than me." He hums, looking away wistfully. "If it weren't for those extra cords we wouldn't 'ave been able to call for evac on that last mission."

You take the mouse into your palm, feeling uneasy. Something about his demeanor isn't right. Gaz is always confident and sure. But the way he glances at you before he turns back to the computer makes you worried.

Is he...jealous?

You slip out of the door and close it behind you without making a sound.

-

"Need t' put a bell on you." Ghost grumbles. "Can't hear you n' those."

You stop midway down the hallway, confused and nervous.

You look down at your old, beat up reg boots from your PT days. They were definitely in need for a decommissioning, but they were comfy despite the fact that the soles had no tread anymore.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." You awkwardly mumble. "Need new ones."

"No."

You raise a brow at him. It was just the two of you in one of the maintenance hallways which was, ironically enough, poorly maintained. The overhead fluorescents flickered and made it hard to focus.

"Keep 'em." He nods, turning away and showing you the full breadth of his back. He mutters at you as while he keeps walking on.

"Keeps you under the radar."

[evie-sturns]

missed you - Chris Sturniolo

summary: where you see your boyfriend for the first time in 3 weeks, all you want is his dick.

contains: cockwarming, fluff, swearing, nsfw

——————————————————————————

chris and i have been together for over a year, now that his career is getting busy he takes regular work trips with his brothers, leaving me alone for a couple of weeks.

today is the day where chris finally comes home after 3 weeks, and god have i needed him.

i lay back on chris and i’s shared bed, scrolling aimlessly through instagram as my eyes repeatedly flick up towards the time.

my mind starts to wonder, since chris and i haven’t had sex in 3 weeks i can barely imagine the thinks we are going to get up to.

it turns me on just thinking about it, i don’t even realise the fact i’m squeezing my thighs together desperately. i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs as i let out a sexually frustrated sigh.

click

the door to our house unlocks with a faint click, i shoot up in bed and sprint for the door handle

i swing it open and run down the corridor where chris is standing,

“chris!” i squeal before jumping into his large arms, he lets out a small laugh before wrapping his arms around me,

“i missed you so much baby!” chris smiles before placing me back down on my feet.

“how was it!!” i smile widely, grabbing chris’s hand, desperate for some sort of touch of his.

“mmm, not great” chris hums, dragging his bag towards our room,

“i’m sorry to hear that chris, i have a lot to tell you though..” i say with a small jump.

“do you now?” chris teases, i nod my head with a ‘mhm’

i open the door to our room, “it’s so clean in here.” chris states while rubbing his eyes.

“just for you” i say rubbing my shoulder on him,

“you’re so corny.” he scoffs, chucking his bag in the wardrobe and tossing his shirt along with it, leaving him in just his sweatpants and a red cap.

i jump into bed, the thin fabric of my pyjamas press against my cold skin as i tug the covers up over me.

chris sets himself down on his desk chair, he pulls off his hat with a small sigh before powering his computer up.

i observe as he clicks through the various files on his computer before settling on the one which has all the footage that he filmed this month,

“chris..” i whine quietly,

“yeah?” he turns back to look at me,

“how long is that ‘gonna take you.” i pout,

“about… an hour? maybe.” he replies with a small nod.

i run my hands over my face with a big sig,

“what’s wrong gorgeous girl.” chris smiles,

“i don’t know- ‘m just need you.” i say shyly, chris nods understandably

“need me like how?” he asks, he knows what i mean but his constant need to tease me is taking over.

“need you to touch me.. or something.” i whisper, avoiding all eye contact with chris.

chris stays silent, wanting a better response out of me.

i exhale loudly with a small smile, “i want you.. your dick.”

chris stands up and walks over to me, his large frame leans over the bed as he looks down at me,

“is that so?” he says softly, i nod.

he sits down in bed beside me, his back presses against the headboard as he sits next to me.

“c’mon up.” chris grins, i let the covers fall off of my body as i sit up in bed,

i swing my legs over chris and straddle him, my clothed cunt pressing against his bulge.

“you gotta tell me what you want princess.” he says, looking into my eyes.

“i want to feel you.. inside of me.” i say, “there she is.” chris chuckles.

he tugs down his sweatpants to his mid thighs, his erection springs out as i look at it very obviously

i hover off of chris’s lap for a second to pull my small shorts off, discarding them in the corner.

“you’re so pretty.” chris whispers, i get flustered easily, “stop it chris.” i giggle.

chris wraps a hand around his length, pumping a few times slowly, almost as though he was waiting for me to do something myself.

i take his length into my hands as chris shuffles his back further up the headboard of our bed, sitting him up properly.

i hover up above chris’s tip as i attempt to line his pink tip up with my slit.

“you need some help there?” he asks, i nod, sinking my top teeth into my bottom lip.

he lays his large hands on my waist before pressing me down onto his length.

in the 3 weeks we’ve been apart i haven’t touched myself, it’s not the same without chris. meaning that i’m no longer used to chris’s size at all.

i let out a pathetic whimper as i look into chris’s eyes.

“you’re okay, just gonna give you a little bit at a time yeah?” chris says, all i can do is nod in response.

he lets me sink down further onto him, i feel him slowly getting deeper.

“oh chris- fuck.” i wince from the stretch. chris presses a quick kiss to my lips, “you’re okay, i promise baby.”

“you’re so tight aren’t you.” he whispers into my hair before bottoming out.

i sit fully down on his dick, feeling his tip rest on my cervix.

“w-why does it hurt.” i breathe out with a small laugh,

“you’re just not used to it, ya think?” he smiles, pressing another kiss to my swollen lips.

“yeah, i think so.”

“you wanna just sit here, try something new?” he asks, keeping his blue eyes fixed on mine.

i nod eagerly, letting my head fall towards onto his boney shoulder.

i adjust to his size slowly, chris wraps his arms around my back as he holds me close to him.

“feeling okay?” he whispers, i nod

the sensation of chris so deep inside of me, filling me completely to the brim is driving me crazy. i never want to move from this position.

“this feels.. so good chris.” i sigh, chris lets out a small laugh before pressing a kiss to my cheek.

i sit back up on his lap, earning a groan from chris’s pink lips.

“you like sitting on my cock don’t you?” he teases, reaching one of his large hands up and cupping my jaw, he presses a thumb into my mouth and rests its against his tongue.

i swirl my tongue around his thumb with a smile, “mhm!” i reply eagerly.

i lean back slightly and rest my hands against chris’s thighs from behind me,

“oh fuck-“ chris almost gasps, he reaches out his hand and rubs my lower stomach.

i look down and see a clear stomach bulge, i clench around chris just from the sight.

my eyes widen as i shift around on his lap, my clit rubs against the skin above his dick

the stomach bulge moves around with each of my movements. chris throws his head back against the headboard messily, “fuck you squeeze me so well.”

i let out a loud moan of his name as i repeatedly rut my hips, brushing my clit against his pelvis.

“i’m right here, you got it.” he praises, i clench around his dick and feel the knot in my stomach snap.

all pleasure washes over me, i feel myself release on his length as my cheeks flush.

“oh gosh-“ i pant, letting my head fall onto his boney collarbone.

i feel chris quickly thrust up into me desperately, i let out a small gasp from overstimulation.

“i’m sorry-“ he breathes before thrusting once more, he released inside of me as his hands find my way to my hips,

i feel him coat my insides with a loud whimper,

the only sound in the hot room are our pants, recovering from.. that.

i sit back up and go to pull off of him, “n-no.” chris stutters, grabbing my waist and pushing me back down onto his dick

“chris.. i need to go to get water.” i protest with a cheeky smile,

“no.. i want you to stay here on me.” chris laughs slightly.

“hmm…” i hum,

“please..?” chris whines, looking at me with with pouting lips.

“okay.” i give in, chris lays down onto the bed.

i lay down onto his body, him still buried inside of me, filling me perfectly.

he wraps his arms around me and presses a kiss to my forehead.

"you are so needy" i sigh with a small laugh,

"i mean you do keep giving me what i need.." he teases back

—————

@gabrielle-brun1 @ilovemymannnnnnnn @sturnioloxlver @buckys-goodgirl @sturniol0s @mattybsgf @stupid4sturniolo @lydi2718 @chrisstopherfilmed2 @flosslikeabosss @zturndq @skysturniolo @jetaimevous @sturniolo04 @luxy-nyx @aliceloveschris @livvy4realll @chrissturnsss @ilovemymannnnnnnn @chr1sgirl4life @luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs @riowritesitall

[kkai-zen]

ᯓ★ oh damn, i feel like a HOTSHOT

──── featuring NAGI SEISHIRO.

summary: what happens when your famous pro-soccer player boyfriend NAGI SEISHIRO finds your Twitter stan account for him?

contents: 18+ nsfw! MDNI. fem!sub!reader, dom!nagi, p in v, porn w plot, established relationship, reader nicknames (angel, slut, dirty girl, pretty, good girl, cute lil' whore), degradation + praise, finishes on your face + stomach, mutual mastúrbation, watching pórn "together," unprotected sex

a/n: third work for this series! enjoyy :)

wc: 1.7k

✰ .ᐟ your pro-athlete boyfriend NAGI SEISHIRO . . .

finds out about your Twitter stan account, 'nagi-sei’s-universe,' when you ask him to grind Stardew Valley on your PC and your Twitter account is open on your browser.

Curious about all of the content you’ve posted after noticing that you've retweeted a 'suggestive' video with a caption about him, and naturally decides to snoop.

Loves reading through all your thirsty, downright filthy tweets and retweets, and is especially interested in the videos you repost.

(It helps him figure out what you're into.)

Memorizes your username and tag so he can revisit your account.

For some reason, it turns him on knowing that you support his pro-soccer career on your account as well.

Definitely boosts his ego, and he thinks your horniness over him is so damn cute.

Plans on visiting your account when he needs to get off.

“Sei, can you come grind my Stardew Valley farm for me?” 

You call into the living room, where Nagi had just woken up from a nap. “Su-uuure,” he yawns, rubbing his eyes as he drags himself into your shared bedroom where your computer is set up.“But why? You goin’ somewhere?” he questions, gray eyes following you as you grab your keys and wallet. “Mhm, just to the store to buy a couple things,” you reply, hurrying over to press a quick peck on his lips. “I just need to reorganize my barns and coops, and maybe get more animals. Try to finish it all for me, ‘kay?” you smile cheekily at him. “I’ll be back in a bit!”

Nagi watches you slip out the door before settling into your chair, clicking around your farm for a bit. She said buy more animals…when is Marnie’s ranch open? He thinks to himself with a frown, opening your web browser to search it up. 

But before he can, Nagi notices your Twitter page open, with a- porn video retweeted? He raises his eyebrows, checking to make sure if it really is your account, and it most definitely is. More shocking than the video itself, though, was the caption you posted under it—‘need this w nagi seishiro right nowwww!!’ with a handful of horny emojis streaming after it. 

“Hm…what else has ‘nagi-sei’s-universe’ posted?” he muses to himself, scrolling through your Twitter account with curiosity. He scrolls past a handful of more ‘suggestive’ videos, tweets about his newest games and stats, and thirsts that you’ve reposted. A video you reposted catches his eye, however—one with a girl on her knees, some guy slapping his dick against her face while degrading her: “Fucking slut. Just look at you, so whiny and desperate for my cock. Shit, you’re such a cute lil’ whore.” 

Nagi almost feels betrayed that you didn’t tell him you were into this earlier. He could’ve been degrading you and slapping his cock against your face this whole time? Shit. That’s hot, he thinks, closing his eyes for a moment, and feels his pants tighten. He replays the video, imagining you in that girl’s place, and imagining himself smacking his dick on your cute face so sweetly. 

Right on cue, he hears the front door open as you step inside. He considers closing the tab with your account on it, but opts to pause the video instead. Cock throbbing in his pants, Nagi’s eyes are glued to you the second you walk into the room. 

“The traffic was terrible today, maybe I should’ve just gone tomo- wait…Sei, what is that?” you stare at the screen, heat blooming on your cheeks. “Hm? This? You don’t recognize it?” he asks, tilting his head. “I- why would I- ” you stutter. “Because you reposted it, angel,” he murmurs, eyes looking you up and down. “And I think I deserve something in return for you hiding this from me, yeah?” 

You swallow, face now crimson. “Sei- I- ” you scramble for words, but Nagi cuts you off.

“Get on the floor and spread your legs.” 

The sharpness of his tone shocks you into submission, and something in your lower belly throbs with anticipation. You stagger to the ground, opening your legs with a blush. “Now, touch yourself for me.” he says, voice husky, and you don’t miss how the prominent outline of his cock throbs. “S-Sei,” you mumble, turning your head to avoid his electric gaze. His eyes narrow. “Hm. If I do this- ” he clicks play on the video, still frozen on the screen. “-would you touch yourself properly?” 

You gape at him before your eyes fall onto the monitor. Hole pulsing and twitching as the video plays, the girl’s moans and guy’s dirty talk seeping into your ears, you can’t help but slide your pants off, biting your lip to stifle your moans as you circle a finger on your aching clit. 

“C’mon, angel, do more than that,” Nagi orders, now fully undressed, and you feel a bead of arousal slip out of you at the sight of his muscular, athletic body in front of you. “Nngh- Sei,” you moan out as you dip a finger into your needy, drooling cunt. It was unlike him to take such a commanding role, you think, as he palms his cock through his sweats, eyes trained on your pussy. It’s so fucking hot. “Another finger.” he commands, and you whimper. “Sei- I- I’m about to- ugh!” you whine, bucking your hips into your hand as you slide another finger inside. “S-so close!” But with a click on the keyboard, he pauses the video and says, “Don’t cum. Save it.”

“B-but, Sei! You- ugh!” you cry, fingers still thrusting weakly in and out of your sopping hole. His cock is fully erect now, standing so straight and tall and thick with his hand wrapped around it, dragging over his dick slowly. “I said, stop.” he hisses, and you freeze. You’ve never heard Nagi’s voice so cold, and for some reason, it’s so, so hot. 

“Get on your knees and open up,” he breathes, the tip of his cock burning red as it twitches. Crawling over to him, you settle on your knees, opening your mouth up from below him. Exhaling sharply, he smacks the fat head of his cock against your cheek, smearing precum over your face.

“Fuckin’ slut,” he murmurs, smirk slowly widening on his features. “Just look at you, so whiny and desperate for my cock. Shit, you’re such a cute lil’ whore.” And your pussy throbs harder when you realize he’s parroting the guy from the video. You fucked yourself on your fingers to that video more times than you can count, and now, Nagi’s recreating it with you? Fuck, you could’ve just cum on the spot listening to him. 

“You’re enjoying this too much, aren’t you?” he bites his lip. “Nasty girl, getting off to my fat cock slapping against your pretty face.” You moan in response, grinding your clit on your heel as he slaps his length against your face again. “Fucking hell, you’re so pretty like this,” He gasps, eagerly stroking his throbbing cock when he slaps your cheek again. “Just lookin’ at you like this- ah- fuck!” Nagi groans, thighs tightening when his hot seed spurts out, painting white ropes over your face.  

Catching some of his release in your mouth, you make sure he sees it coating your tongue before you swallow it, licking at your lips with a small smirk. His chest is heaving, gentle sheen of sweat making him look ethereal in the dim light, and he swallows roughly before bringing an elegant hand to your face. With two fingers, Nagi scoops up the remaining seed on your face before sliding his cum-coated fingers into your mouth. “Good girl,” he murmurs as you choke on his fingers. “You want more of my cum, don’t you? Filthy little thing.” He remarks, and tears prick at your eyes when you nod keenly. 

You’re on the edge of cumming again when he pulls away from your face. “Stand up, pretty,” he says, releasing his cock, hard again, letting it bounce against his chiseled abs. “Now, ride me like the good lil’ slut you are.” 

You moan at the words as you perch yourself above him, hovering over his cock as your cunt drips slick onto his thighs. Rubbing your swollen clit on his fat tip, you whine at the sparks of pleasure bursting through you. Nagi grunts at the sensation. “Nngh- stop teasing,” he clenches his teeth, big, veiny hands wrapping around your hips before slamming you down on his cock. 

With a scream, you feel the head of his cock press into your sensitive spot so perfectly. “Ah!- Sei, I- ohhh, fuu-fuck!” you wail, creaming on his dick right then and there, squirting slick down his balls and muscular thighs. He gasps at the sensation, face contorting in pleasure as he feels your weeping hole pulse and flutter around him. “You- ah, you fuckin’ slut,” he moans, sweat beading at his forehead. “Look at you- ugh- takin’ my dick so well.”

When he starts lifting you and slamming you on his cock, your jaw is already wide open, tears spilling out of your eyes as Nagi desperately chases his second release. “Ah-ahhh, fuck, your cute lil’ hole is so tight-n-wet f’me,” he bucks into you harder, grabbing one of your tits and suckling at your stiffened nipple desperately. 

“Mmh, Sei! Oh-unggh-”yousob, vision hazy and mind dizzy with lust. “C’mon, pretty, cum again f’me,” Nagi groans, thrusting his cock in and out of you at a pace that makes stars flicker in your vision. The stretch of his girth is so delicious and renders your brain useless. You can barely form a coherent thought when your orgasm crashes into you, knocking the breath from your lips as you scream out his name in pleasure. “Ahh- angh- S-Sei! Ohhh, fu-fucking- ngh, Sei!!~”

You’re abused hole is aching so lewdly as Nagi bottoms out inside you with one final thrust before pulling out, cum spurting from his throbbing tip and spraying across your stomach. “Nngh- a-ah! Shiiit- so- so fuckin’ good!” Nagi whines, hands squeezing at the fat of your ass tightly. 

Panting and covered in cum, you both catch your breaths as your orgasms ebb away. “Mmpf, Sei,” you gasp, nuzzling into his chest. “That was amazing.” 

Nagi presses his cheek onto the top of your head with a sigh. “Mm, it was…but I’m so tired now,” he pouts, and you can’t help but giggle. “Did you even make any progress on my farm?” You inquired, looking up at him. Nagi turns away, fluffy white hair obscuring his eyes from your line of sight. “Maybe, maybe not,” he mumbles, and you snicker. “I’ll work on it for you later, pretty. Let’s just sleep now.” Nagi murmurs, scooping you into his lean arms and tumbling onto the nearby bed with you. 

“Sei-! We’re both covered in- ”

“Yeah I know, I know, we’ll just wash the sheets later.”

“Hmpf, fine. You’re lucky you’re so cute.”

[kiwriteswords]

Could I please get a fake dating or like Hotch jumps in to be Reader's date for a wedding or something story?

Everybody Loves Somebody

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: I keep telling myself that I want to post something every day of December, so let's see if I can keep this up! This one I fought myself back and forth if I liked it, so I hope you guys do! I also need to update my masterlist...like bad.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader||Word Count: 13.5k

Tags/Warnings: Female Reader, BAU Reader, Hotch and Reader are Best Friends, Reader is being breadcrumbed by another guy, insecure reader, reader does not know her worth, weddings, mentions of alcohol in a wedding setting, smut, smut with feelings, smut that you have to use your imagination for in some points, not specified, but unprotected sex, one-bed-trope, romance, fluff, angst, eluding to reader being in toxic relationships before, hurt/comfort.

Sypnosis: At a wedding filled with laughter, romance, and unexpected revelations, You and Hotch find yourselves navigating the fine line between friendship and something more. What starts as a favor soon becomes a night of quiet truths and unspoken emotions, as the two of you grapple with feelings that can no longer be ignored.

Aaron Hotchner had long considered himself an observant man. It was, after all, an essential trait in his line of work. But when it came to you, his closest friend and confidant, observation was more than professional—it was personal. He prided himself on knowing you better than anyone else, even if the knowledge sometimes brought him a frustrating ache he didn’t dare examine too closely.

That ache flared again today as he glanced across the bullpen to where you sat at your desk. To the untrained eye, you were simply busy—typing emails, jotting notes, occasionally furrowing your brow in concentration. But Hotch knew better. The tight set of your jaw, the way your leg bounced beneath your desk, and the fact that you hadn’t laughed at any of Morgan’s jokes all afternoon—those were your tells. Something was wrong.

He waited until the team dispersed for lunch to approach. You didn’t notice him until he leaned against the edge of your desk, his arms crossed, and gave you one of his signature looks—the kind that said he was waiting for answers.

“What?” you asked, feigning innocence as you glanced up at him.

Hotch raised a brow. “You’re upset.”

You scoffed lightly, turning your attention back to your computer. “I’m fine.”

The evasion only confirmed his suspicions. “You’re not fine,” he said softly. “Talk to me.”

For a moment, you hesitated, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Then, with a sigh, you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms defensively. “It’s nothing, Hotch. Just... plans fell through, and I’m annoyed. That’s all.”

But it wasn’t nothing. He knew exactly what—or rather who—was behind this.

“Let me guess,” he said, his voice hardening despite himself. “It’s him.”

Your silence was damning.

Hotch felt his stomach twist. He hated this—hated how that man, who didn’t deserve an ounce of your time, could still have this hold on you. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen you like this—hopeful one minute, crushed the next. He clenched his jaw, reigning in the frustration that wasn’t entirely directed at the man.

Hotch remembered every instance in painful clarity.

The blown-off phone calls. The texts left unanswered for hours, sometimes days. The signs of interest one day, only for them to vanish into disinterest the next. It was a cycle so predictable it made Hotch’s blood boil, not just because it hurt you but because you still held out hope every time that this time would be different.

And then there were the worst moments—the ones that left marks even you couldn’t brush off.

There was the time you’d shown up to work after a rare weekend off, a hopeful sparkle in your eye as you mentioned that things finally seemed to be turning around with him. Hotch had wanted to believe it for your sake, but he’d barely had time to hope before you confided—over lunch in the BAU’s break room—that the man had stood you up for dinner, citing a “misunderstanding.” Hotch had gripped his coffee mug so tightly he thought it might crack.

Through it all, he’d stayed quiet. He’d been your friend, your colleague, your confidant. He’d listened when you needed to vent, offered advice when you asked, and let you lean on him when the weight of disappointment became too much. But inside, he’d been screaming.

Screaming at the man who couldn’t see the incredible person standing right in front of him. Screaming at himself for letting it go on for so long without saying more.

“What happened?” he asked, forcing his tone to remain gentle.

You sighed again, this time heavier. “My friend from college and grad school, Annie, is getting married this weekend. I had a plus-one, and—well, he was supposed to come with me.” Your voice wavered just slightly. “But he bailed last minute. Said he couldn’t make it because he’s ‘too busy.’”

Hotch’s jaw tightened further. Too busy? The excuse was laughable, infuriating, and so painfully predictable. He hated seeing the way you tried to downplay your disappointment as if his latest betrayal were somehow your fault.

“I don’t get it, Hotch,” you continued quietly, staring down at your desk. “I thought things were finally going somewhere this time. But he’s always—” You shook your head, blinking back tears. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just—”

He wanted to tell you why. Wanted to tell you that you hoped because you were good, because you believed in people even when they didn’t deserve it. He wanted to tell you that your hope was one of the things he admired most about you—and the thing that tore him apart when it was weaponized against you.

“Stop,” Hotch interrupted, his voice firmer than he intended.

You blinked up at him in surprise.

“This isn’t about you,” he said, holding your gaze. “It’s about him. He’s a coward who doesn’t see what’s right in front of him. You deserve better than this—better than him. You do this because you care. But he doesn’t deserve it.”

You smiled weakly, but it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks, Hotch. But it’s not like I have a backup plan. It’s just one weekend. I’ll survive.”

Hotch watched as you tried to bury your hurt under a mask of indifference, but it didn’t fool him. He wasn’t sure when he made the decision—it was instinctive, like every protective impulse he felt when it came to you.

“Then let me go with you,” he said, the words spilling out before he could overthink them.

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“I’ll go with you to the wedding,” he repeated, his voice calm and steady. “If you’ll have me.”

The stunned look on your face made him wonder if he’d overstepped. But then your lips curved into a genuine smile—a rare one that he hadn’t seen all day.

“You’d really do that?” you asked softly.

He nodded, his own lips twitching into the smallest smile. “Of course. That’s what friends are for.”

You laughed—a light, incredulous sound that made something warm bloom in his chest. “Aaron Hotchner, my wedding date. Who would’ve thought?”

“It’s a first for me, too,” he admitted, his tone light but sincere. “But I promise, you won’t regret it.”

For the first time that day, Hotch saw a flicker of hope in your eyes, and he silently vowed to make good on his promise. Because whether you realized it or not, you deserved someone who saw your worth—someone who would never dream of leaving you hanging.

And if that someone couldn’t be him, he’d at least make sure you saw what it was like to be treated the way you deserved, even if just for one weekend.

Aaron Hotchner wasn’t sure how it had happened, but somehow, agreeing to accompany you to this wedding had become the most complicated logistical endeavor of his week. Which, considering he led a team of profilers tracking violent criminals, was saying something.

He sat across from you at the round table in the break room, a notepad in hand as you went over the details for the weekend. You were in full planning mode, leaning forward, your fingers tapping rhythmically against your coffee cup.

“So,” you began, grinning. “The wedding is in Stafford. I already booked a room because I wasn’t sure how late I’d stay, but now that you’re coming, I can probably cancel that and just—”

“You should keep it,” Hotch interjected.

You raised an eyebrow, your grin morphing into something sly. “Aaron, are you worried about your reputation? Afraid of being seen walking out of my hotel room in the morning?”

His lips quirked into the faintest smile. “I’m worried about getting enough sleep and having to share a room with someone who steals the covers.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned, pretending to clutch your chest. “Accusing me of being a cover thief without evidence. Profiling me already, Hotchner?”

“Call it an educated guess.”

Your laugh was light and easy, the sound wrapping around him in a way that momentarily made him forget you were planning this trip because someone else had let you down. He knew better than to dwell on that, though, especially now that you were in good spirits again.

“So,” you continued, brushing a strand of hair from your face, “you’re driving, right? You’ve got the serious FBI Dad car that won’t break down.”

Hotch raised a brow, unsure what quick-witted joke you were making at him. “FBI Dad car?”

“Yeah, you know,” you teased, gesturing vaguely. “Sturdy, reliable, no-nonsense. It practically screams, ‘I’m an authority figure, and I have juice boxes in the back seat for emergencies.’”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Yes, I’ll drive.”

Before you could respond, Morgan’s voice drifted in from the hallway.

“Sounds like we’re right after all,” he said, loud enough for both of you to hear.

Hotch turned to find Morgan, Prentiss, and Rossi standing in the doorway, all wearing expressions ranging from smug to amused.

“Right about what?” Hotch asked, narrowing his eyes slightly.

“Oh, nothing,” Morgan replied, but the grin tugging at the corners of his mouth said otherwise.

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at the trio. “Okay, spill it. What conspiracy theory are you cooking up now?”

Prentiss smirked. “Oh, it’s not a conspiracy. Just a little… friendly office speculation.”

Rossi, ever the instigator, folded his arms and leaned against the doorframe. “Let’s just say there’s a reason the betting pool has been so active lately.”

Hotch blinked, confused. “Betting pool?”

“On what?” you asked, your tone equal parts curious and incredulous.

Morgan didn’t miss a beat. “On when you two were finally going to get together.”

For a moment, there was silence. Then, simultaneously:

“What?” Hotch said, his voice clipped with disbelief.

“Excuse me?” you said, your tone higher and filled with mock outrage.

The trio in the doorway looked utterly unfazed.

“Oh, come on,” Prentiss said, rolling her eyes. “You finish each other’s sentences, you bicker like an old couple, and don’t even get me started on the way you look at each other.”

You snorted. “The way we look at each other? What is this, a rom-com?”

Hotch held up a hand, his expression stern but his tone baffled. “This is absurd. We’re colleagues and friends. That’s it.”

Morgan raised a skeptical brow. “Friends, huh? You’re going to a wedding together. And if I’m not mistaken, Hotch just volunteered to drive—sounds pretty couple-y to me.”

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Oh, Derek, sweet, sweet Derek,” you said, your voice dripping with exaggerated condescension. “Are you trying to tell me that I can’t ask my best friend to be my date to a wedding without it being some grand romantic gesture?”

Morgan grinned. “Not saying it, just calling it like I see it.”

Hotch sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is ridiculous.”

Prentiss gave him a mock-serious look. “It’s not ridiculous if it’s true.”

“It’s not true,” you and Hotch said in unison, which only seemed to amuse the team further.

“Uh-huh,” Morgan said, exchanging a knowing look with Rossi.

Hotch turned to you, his lips pressing into a thin line. “They’re crazy.”

“Oh, 100%,” you agreed, giving him a quick, conspiratorial grin. “But let’s not correct them. Let’s just let them spiral into their own delusions. It’ll be fun to watch.”

Prentiss smirked. “You know we can still hear you, right?”

“Then you’re welcome for the entertainment,” you shot back, standing and grabbing your coffee cup.

As the team finally dispersed, still laughing and muttering amongst themselves, Hotch shook his head, bemused.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered.

“Hey, look at it this way,” you said, bumping his shoulder lightly as you passed. “At least now you’ve got a reputation as a fun wedding date. That’s gotta count for something, right?”

Despite himself, Hotch felt a small smile tug at his lips. “Right.”

Hotch arrived at your apartment a few minutes early, the morning sun casting long shadows across the quiet street. He adjusted the cuffs of his suit jacket while waiting, catching himself fidgeting—a rare occurrence. He told himself it was because of the unfamiliarity of the situation, not because of you.

When you finally emerged, his breath hitched. You were dressed simply but elegantly, exuding a confidence that he found himself noticing more than usual. As you approached the car, you waved with a teasing smile.

“Wow, Aaron, I didn’t think punctuality extended to wedding duty,” you quipped, opening the passenger door.

He smirked as you slid into the seat. “You make it sound like this is an interrogation.”

“Depends. Will there be a polygraph at the reception?” you shot back, buckling your seatbelt.

Hotch chuckled softly, pulling away from the curb. “Let’s hope not.”

The silence between you was comfortable as the car rolled onto the highway. Hotch found himself glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. You were scrolling through your phone, your brow furrowing in that way it always did when you were deep in thought.

“So,” he began, breaking the quiet, “what’s the plan for the reception? Do I stand in the corner and look intimidating, or are you expecting me to charm your college friends?”

You turned to him with a mock-serious expression. “You’re under strict orders to charm, obviously. What’s the point of bringing you along if you’re just going to brood in a corner?”

“I don’t brood,” he replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, you absolutely brood,” you said with a grin. “But don’t worry—I’ll coach you. Step one: smile occasionally. It won’t kill you.”

Hotch shot you a dry look. “I’ll take that under advisement.”

Your laugh was light, but it held an edge of something deeper—something that lingered in the air between you like a static charge.

After a beat, you shifted in your seat, your voice softening. “You know, you really didn’t have to do this. I would’ve survived.”

He glanced at you, his expression unreadable. “I know. But I wanted to.”

Your eyes met his, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. There was something in your gaze—a mix of gratitude and something unspoken, something he didn’t dare put a name to.

“Well,” you said, your voice tinged with a sly edge as you broke the comfortable silence. “If we’re doing this, we might as well make it fun. Tell me, Hotch—how’s your dancing?”

Hotch glanced at you, arching an eyebrow as his lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “Impeccable.”

You blinked, your grin faltering in mock surprise. “Wait, really? You can’t just say that and not elaborate.”

“I don’t think there’s much to elaborate on,” he said, his tone light but confident. “Years of events, fundraisers, and... the occasional gala. I can hold my own.”

For a moment, you simply stared at him, then let out a sharp laugh. “Oh, this is going to be fun. The FBI’s most stoic agent is secretly a Fred Astaire in disguise? Who knew?”

Hotch chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Don’t get your hopes up. I didn’t say I was flashy.”

“Flashy is overrated,” you replied, leaning back in your seat. “Grace, timing, presence—those are the real markers of a great dancer.”

“And you’d know this how?” he asked, shooting you a sidelong glance.

You shrugged, feigning nonchalance. “I took some lessons in college. Turns out I have two left feet, but I’m a great judge of talent.”

He smirked. “Two left feet? I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it,” you said, grinning. “So, looks like I’ll be depending on you to keep us from embarrassing ourselves on the dance floor.”

“I think we’ll manage,” he replied, his voice steady but laced with a quiet warmth.

There was something in the way you looked at him then, your teasing smile softening just enough to give away the unspoken tension humming beneath the surface. Hotch forced his attention back to the road, though his mind lingered on the way your presence seemed to fill the space around him so effortlessly.

“You know,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence with a playful tilt to your voice, “if you’re this good at dancing, I’m starting to think I’ve been seriously underestimating you.”

“Is that so?” he asked, his tone carrying the faintest hint of a challenge.

“Yeah,” you replied, tapping a finger against your chin in mock thought. “What other hidden talents are you keeping from me?”

Hotch smirked, but instead of answering, he let the question hang in the air, his silence calculated.

“Oh, come on,” you pressed, laughing lightly. “You can’t just drop a bombshell like that and leave me hanging.”

He shrugged, his expression unreadable but his tone unmistakably amused. “Maybe I like keeping you guessing.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re infuriating, you know that?”

“So I’ve been told.”

Your laugh filled the car again, bright and unrestrained, and Hotch allowed himself a small smile. It was moments like this—when the walls between you seemed to lower without effort—that he felt the tug of something deeper. Something he’d long ignored, even as it grew impossible to deny.

As the miles stretched on, the banter gave way to quieter moments, but the tension never left. It simmered beneath the surface, in the way your knee brushed against the center console, in the way his name sounded when you said it, in the way his gaze lingered on you just a little too long at every red light.

By the time you reached the venue, Hotch found himself gripping the wheel a little tighter, his usual composure shaken just enough to make him wonder if this was really just about being a good friend.

And judging by the way you looked at him as you stepped out of the car, he suspected he wasn’t the only one wondering.

By the time Hotch pulled into the parking lot, the late morning sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the small boutique hotel nestled on the edge of town. He stepped out of the car, grabbing your overnight bag from the trunk and trying not to notice the way your dress caught the light as you smoothed it out.

The lobby was quaint, adorned with rustic charm, and the check-in process was quick. Hotch couldn’t help but notice the faint blush that crept up your cheeks when the receptionist handed him a single key card.

“Enjoy your stay,” the woman said with a knowing smile, though Hotch couldn’t decipher if it was genuine or merely part of her routine.

As you both stepped into the elevator, you glanced at him, your lips twitching with amusement. “So, any guesses on the room situation?”

Hotch gave you a sidelong glance, his voice steady. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

But the moment the door to the room swung open, he realized "fine" was a stretch.

There it was. The single bed. Large and neatly made, taking up most of the modestly sized room.

You stopped in the doorway, your bag slung over one shoulder as you surveyed the scene. “Well,” you said after a moment, turning back to him with a raised eyebrow, “this is cozy.”

Hotch cleared his throat, stepping inside and setting your bag on the chair in the corner. “It’s practical,” he said, though even he didn’t believe the words.

You smirked, closing the door behind you. “I didn’t realize practicality came with a built-in proximity test.”

He gave you a faint look, his lips twitching despite himself. “If it’s an issue, I can take the floor.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, brushing past him to set your phone on the bedside table. “We’re both adults. I think we can survive one night.” You looked back at him and had almost a nervous laugh, “Plus, I have to prove to you I’m not a sheet thief.” 

The confidence in your voice didn’t quite match the flicker of something else in your eyes—nervousness, curiosity, or perhaps the same undercurrent of tension he’d felt since the drive.

“Well,” you continued, shaking off the moment as you dug through your bag, “we don’t have much time before the ceremony, so I’m claiming the bathroom first. Try not to miss me too much while I’m gone.”

Hotch chuckled softly as you disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water quickly filling the room. He loosened his tie, sitting on the edge of the bed and glancing around. The space was neat, understated, with soft lighting that made everything feel strangely intimate.

He caught himself staring at the bathroom door longer than necessary, then stood abruptly, running a hand through his hair.

When you emerged a few minutes later, your face freshly washed and your lipstick reapplied, you looked radiant. Hotch found himself at a loss for words, though he masked it by stepping into the bathroom with a curt, “Your turn to wait.”

The cool water on his face did little to clear his mind. By the time he stepped back into the room, fully composed, you were seated on the edge of the bed, slipping your shoes on.

“All set?” he asked, his voice steadier than he felt.

You glanced up at him, your smile soft but teasing. “Ready when you are, Fred Astaire.”

He smirked, grabbing his jacket and gesturing toward the door. “After you.”

As you walked ahead, Hotch allowed himself a brief moment to exhale, the weight of the growing tension settling over him like a second skin. The day had barely begun, and already, he found himself wondering just how long he could keep his thoughts—and his feelings—in check.

The sun filtered through the trees, casting soft, dappled light on the guests as they made their way toward the outdoor ceremony space. Hotch walked beside you, the sound of gravel crunching underfoot filling the brief silence. He couldn’t help but glance at you as you adjusted your dress, the soft fabric shifting gracefully as you moved.

“You look...” Hotch began, his voice quieter than usual. He cleared his throat, glancing ahead at the clusters of chairs. “You look incredible.”

You turned to him, surprised. “Hotch, was that a compliment? Are you feeling okay?”

He smirked, his lips twitching. “I’ve been meaning to tell you all day,” he admitted, his gaze steady now. “Just... took a bit of courage.”

Your playful grin faltered slightly, your eyes softening as they met his. There was a flicker of something in your expression—something unspoken, almost vulnerable. Before you could respond, a voice cut through the moment.

“Oh my God, is that you?”

You barely had time to turn before a woman approached, her enthusiasm unmistakable. She was around your age, with bright eyes and a warm smile that radiated familiarity.

“Wow, it’s been forever! How are you?” the woman gushed, pulling you into a quick hug.

Hotch stepped back slightly, his hands tucked neatly into his pockets as he watched the exchange.

“I’m good,” you replied, your voice friendly but a bit guarded. “Hotch, this is Taylor. We were in the same program in grad school. Taylor, this is Aaron Hotchner.”

Taylor’s eyes lit up as she turned to him, her smile widening. “Oh, Aaron. You must be her boyfriend!”

Hotch blinked, the words catching him off guard. He opened his mouth to respond but paused, glancing at you as you froze slightly, your lips parting as if to correct her. But something stopped you—curiosity, maybe, or hesitation.

Instead, Hotch smiled faintly, extending a hand. “It’s nice to meet you,” he said, his tone calm and composed, deliberately sidestepping the assumption.

Taylor shook his hand enthusiastically. “I’ve heard so much about this wedding. You’re both going to have such a great time! Anyway, I should grab my seat before I lose it. So good to see you again!”

She darted off, leaving the two of you standing there in her wake.

You turned to Hotch, your brow raised. “Boyfriend?” you asked quietly, your voice low enough that only he could hear.

Hotch glanced at you as the crowd began to settle into their seats, his expression calm but with a glint of dry humor in his eyes. “Is ‘boss’ better?”

Your lips quirked into a smirk as you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh. “Touché.”

The ceremony began before either of you could say more, but the weight of the word lingered between you. Hotch tried to focus on the officiant’s words, the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, and the quiet murmurs of the gathered crowd. But his mind kept drifting back to your reaction—and to the flicker of a thought he didn’t dare voice.

Maybe the assumption wasn’t as far-fetched as it seemed.

Hotch settled into his seat beside you as the ceremony began, the soft murmur of conversation fading into a respectful silence. The bride and groom stood at the altar under an archway adorned with delicate flowers, the golden light of the late afternoon casting everything in a warm, dreamlike glow.

He tried to focus on the ceremony, the gentle cadence of the officiant’s voice blending with the rustle of the trees. But your presence beside him made it difficult.

The chairs were close together, the space between you almost nonexistent. He could feel the warmth of your arm just brushing against his, a subtle contact that sent a current through him more powerful than it should have. You shifted slightly, your knee brushing his, and Hotch held his breath for a moment, willing himself to remain composed.

When the officiant spoke about love—about commitment, vulnerability, and the courage it took to give yourself fully to another person—Hotch found himself watching your profile instead of the couple at the altar.

Your expression was soft; your lips curved into a faint smile as you listened. There was a light in your eyes, one that made his chest tighten unexpectedly. You looked beautiful, yes, but it wasn’t just that. It was the way you seemed so present, so genuine, so effortlessly yourself.

And for a moment, he let himself imagine.

He imagined reaching for your hand, letting his fingers curl around yours in the quiet simplicity of the moment. He imagined what it might be like to sit beside you at a ceremony like this as something more—more than friends, more than colleagues. The thought was fleeting but potent, leaving a weight in his chest he couldn’t quite shake.

When the bride and groom exchanged their vows, their voices filled with emotion, Hotch stole a glance at you. A soft smile played on your lips, and you leaned forward slightly, your focus entirely on the couple.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” you whispered, your voice so quiet he barely caught it.

He nodded, his throat tightening. “It is.”

Your gaze flicked to him briefly, your smile widening just a fraction before you returned your attention to the altar.

The ceremony continued, the romantic atmosphere growing thicker as the couple’s love story unfolded in front of the guests. When the bride’s voice cracked with emotion as she promised to love her partner for the rest of her life, Hotch’s gaze shifted back to you.

You were blinking quickly, your hands folded in your lap, and Hotch recognized the subtle effort to hold back tears. It was a side of you he rarely saw—vulnerable, unguarded—and it stirred something deep within him.

Without thinking, he let his knee press more firmly against yours, a quiet gesture of solidarity. You didn’t pull away. Instead, you tilted your head slightly toward him, your shoulder brushing his for just a moment.

By the time the ceremony ended, with cheers and applause filling the air as the bride and groom shared their first kiss, Hotch found himself acutely aware of every inch of space between you—of how close you were, yet still not close enough.

As you turned to him, your eyes bright with unshed tears and a soft smile lighting up your face, Hotch realized he’d never been less composed in his life.

The cocktail hour unfolded in the garden, a charming space strung with delicate fairy lights and buzzing with soft laughter and the clinking of glasses. Guests mingled near tables laden with hors d’oeuvres, the scent of fresh flowers mingling with the crisp evening air. Hotch stood by your side, his hands resting lightly in his pockets, watching as you stared out at the crowd, your expression thoughtful.

You hadn’t said much since the ceremony ended. It wasn’t like you to be quiet for so long, and he could see the internal battle playing out behind your eyes. Your shoulders were slightly tense, your gaze distant as you watched couples and old friends chatter happily around you.

“Everything okay?” he asked softly, his voice low enough that only you could hear.

You glanced up at him, your lips curving into a faint smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Hotch didn’t press. He knew you well enough to know that if you wanted to share, you would. So, he waited, his presence steady and unintrusive as you worked through whatever was on your mind.

Finally, you let out a soft sigh, leaning slightly against the high-top table between you. “You ever watch something beautiful—like that ceremony—and feel… I don’t know, happy for them, but also kind of… sad?”

He tilted his head, his brows furrowing slightly. “Sad?”

You nodded, your fingers idly tracing the rim of your glass. “Not for them, of course. They were perfect. It’s just…” You hesitated, then let the words spill out, your voice quieter. “It makes you wonder if that kind of thing is in the cards for you, you know? If someone could ever love you like that—unconditionally, fully. If someone would show up for you, every single time.”

Hotch’s chest tightened at your words. He could see the vulnerability in your eyes, the doubt you were trying so hard to mask. For a moment, he was at a loss for what to say—not because he didn’t know the answer, but because the truth came so quickly and easily that it startled him.

He straightened slightly, his voice steady as he replied, “It’ll happen for you. And when it does, the guy will be the luckiest man in the world.”

You froze, your glass halfway to your lips, your eyes snapping to his. The disbelief on your face caught him off guard, and he realized too late how much he’d revealed.

He cleared his throat, quickly adding, “Not that I’d know, of course. Divorced, widowed, single father—not exactly a stellar track record.” He offered a small, self-deprecating smirk. “I’m hardly an expert on what works.”

You blinked at him for a moment, then burst out laughing. The sound was light, genuine, and for a brief moment, Hotch felt a flicker of relief that he’d managed to deflect.

“Wow, Hotchner,” you said, your laughter fading into a warm smile. “Way to lift me up and immediately knock yourself down.”

“Just keeping things balanced,” he replied, his tone dry but his eyes warm.

You shook your head, still smiling, but he could see the wheels turning in your mind. Your expression softened, and for a moment, he wondered if you were going to say something else—something that might push the conversation back into deeper waters.

Before you could, a cheerful voice interrupted.

“Oh my God, there you are!”

Both of you turned to see a small group of your college and grad school friends approaching, their smiles wide and their arms outstretched as they greeted you enthusiastically.

Hotch stepped back slightly, letting you take center stage as they enveloped you in hugs and started chattering all at once. You lit up in their presence, your wit and charm on full display as you bantered back and forth with them effortlessly.

And though he stood quietly on the periphery, Hotch couldn’t help but smile. Watching you like this—vibrant, confident, and so fully yourself—he couldn’t imagine a world where someone wouldn’t see what he saw.

But as he met your gaze briefly across the group, catching the subtle flicker of something lingering in your eyes, he knew the conversation wasn’t over. Not yet.

The introductions at the cocktail party unfolded with an ease that surprised even Hotch. One by one, your old college and grad school friends greeted him, their initial curiosity about the date you brought quickly melting into admiration. He’d never thought of himself as particularly charming—polished and professional, yes, but charming? That was usually Morgan’s department.

But as he exchanged handshakes and polite banter, he could feel their approval growing. They teased you relentlessly about him, their questions playful and occasionally pointed. And you, ever quick-witted, deflected with a grace and humor that kept the mood light, though your blush betrayed you more than once.

“He’s even more put-together than you let on,” one of your friends teased, nudging your arm.

“Don’t let it fool you,” you replied, smirking at Hotch. “He’s secretly a pain.”

Hotch raised a brow, his tone dry but warm. “Only when necessary.”

The group laughed, and you glanced at him, your smile softening in a way that made the noise around him fade for just a moment.

If your friends noticed the subtle looks passing between you and Hotch—the way your eyes lingered on him or how his posture seemed to relax in your presence—they didn’t say anything outright. But their knowing smiles spoke volumes.

By the time the cocktail hour wound down and everyone was ushered toward the reception hall, Hotch felt more comfortable than he had in weeks. He hadn’t expected to enjoy himself, but with you by his side, the evening felt lighter, more vivid.

The reception began with all the hallmarks of a joyous celebration: a lively band, glasses clinking in toasts, and the soft glow of candles casting a romantic haze over the room. Hotch and you were seated at a round table with some of your friends, their easy chatter filling the gaps between the speeches and the plated courses.

At first, the chemistry between you and Hotch was subtle—a shared glance during the bride and groom’s first dance, the way his arm brushed yours as he leaned closer to hear you over the music. But as the evening progressed, it became impossible to ignore.

“Are you going to dance?” you asked, your tone teasing as you sipped your wine.

“Eventually,” he replied, his lips twitching into a small smile. “Are you?”

You tilted your head, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “I don’t know. That depends. Are you going to make me dance alone?”

Hotch leaned slightly closer, his voice low enough that only you could hear. “I’d never let you dance alone.”

The words hung between you, the air charged with something unspoken yet undeniable. For a moment, neither of you moved, your gazes locked in a way that made the noise of the room fade into the background.

One of your friends called your name, breaking the spell, and you turned with a quick laugh, brushing off the moment as though it hadn’t happened. But Hotch noticed the way your hand lingered on your wine glass, the slight flush creeping up your neck.

As the reception continued, the moments between you grew bolder. A comment from you that lingered just long enough to feel intimate. A brush of his hand against yours as you both reached for something on the table. The way his gaze followed you when you stepped away to talk to someone else, his focus sharper, more intent than he realized.

By the time the band struck up a slower tune, Hotch found himself standing, offering you his hand before he could think twice.

“Care to dance?” he asked, his voice steady but softer than usual.

You blinked up at him, surprised for only a moment before your lips curved into a smile. “I thought you’d never ask.”

As you took his hand and allowed him to guide you onto the dance floor, Hotch felt a quiet certainty settle over him. Whatever lines had existed between you—coworkers, friends, allies—were beginning to blur. And for once, he wasn’t in a hurry to redraw them.

Hotch turned to face you, his other hand resting lightly at your waist as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. The contact was light at first, almost cautious, but as the music swelled, he felt you relax, your movements fluid as you let him guide you through the gentle rhythm.

“You weren’t kidding about being a good dancer,” you teased, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “Where’ve you been hiding this talent?”

Hotch smirked faintly, his lips twitching upward. “It’s a rare occasion that calls for it.”

“Well,” you said, your voice soft but tinged with mischief, “consider me impressed.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his focus shifting briefly to the way your hand fit so perfectly in his, the way your eyes lit up even under the dim glow of the candles. Finally, he said, “You should be. I don’t make exceptions for just anyone.”

Your laugh was quiet, a warm ripple that he felt as much as heard. “Is that right? I should feel honored then.”

“You should,” he replied, the faintest hint of a smile still playing at his lips.

The conversation lulled, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. The silence felt full, weighted by the unspoken tension that had been simmering all day. You swayed together, your movements perfectly synchronized, and for a moment, Hotch allowed himself to forget everything else—the cases, the team, the boundaries he usually held so firmly in place.

As the music slowed further, you tilted your head, your eyes searching his. “What are you thinking?”

Hotch hesitated, his gaze holding yours for a beat too long. “That you shouldn’t doubt what’s in store for you,” he said quietly. “Not after today.”

Your brows furrowed slightly, confusion flickering across your face. “What do you mean?”

He paused, considering his words carefully. “You deserve what you saw at that ceremony. Someone who shows up, who doesn’t hesitate. And when it happens, it’ll be because they know just how lucky they are.”

Your breath hitched, and for a moment, he thought you might pull away. Instead, you blinked up at him, your expression unreadable but undeniably softer. “Hotch—”

Before you could finish, the music swelled into its final notes, the moment broken as the song came to an end. Couples around you began to clap politely, the spell of the dance slowly lifting.

You stepped back slightly, your hand lingering in his for just a moment longer than necessary. “Thank you,” you said, your voice quiet but sincere.

Hotch nodded, his throat tight. “Anytime.”

As you turned to head back to the table, Hotch stayed where he was for a moment, watching the way your shoulders seemed a little more relaxed, the way you glanced back at him briefly before rejoining your friends.

He exhaled slowly, his hands falling to his sides. Whatever line you’d both been toeing all evening had grown impossibly blurred, and he wasn’t sure if it was something to step back from—or cross entirely.

The soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses surrounded Hotch as he followed you back toward the table, the energy of the reception lively yet intimate. Before either of you could sit, the bride approached, her radiant smile lighting up the room. Her white gown swayed slightly as she moved, the sparkling embellishments catching the light.

“There you are!” the bride exclaimed, her voice warm and effusive as she wrapped you in a quick hug. “I’ve been looking for you all evening.”

“Hi, Annie,” you said, your tone fond as you pulled back. “You look stunning. Everything about today has been absolutely perfect.”

Annie beamed, her hands clasping yours. “Thank you. But ook at you! And you must be...” She turned to Hotch, her expression curious and eager.

“This is—” you began, but Annie cut you off before you could finish.

“Oh, I knew it!” Annie said, clapping her hands together and glancing between you and Hotch with unrestrained glee. “I always said you’d find someone who looks at you the way he does. You deserve it so much. After everything you’ve been through. Terrible guy after terrible guy. I’m so happy for you.”

Hotch froze for a fraction of a second, her words catching him completely off guard. He glanced at you, noting the way your eyes widened slightly, a faint blush creeping up your neck.

Annie, oblivious to the tension she’d just created, kept going. “I mean, honestly, it’s about time. Look at you two—you’re such a beautiful couple. And the way he watches you? Like you’re the only person in the room? Come on.”

Hotch’s lips parted, his usual composure slipping as he scrambled for a response. Should he correct her? Deflect? Or...

Instead, he did neither.

“You’re right about one thing,” he said, his voice steady but quieter, as if weighing each word carefully. “She deserves everything. More than anyone I know.”

His gaze lingered on you as he spoke, watching the way your expression softened into something he couldn’t quite name. For a moment, Annie’s chatter faded into the background, the room seeming to grow smaller around the three of you.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Annie’s delighted laughter filled the silence first. “See? I knew it,” she said, her tone triumphant. “I knew you’d get that fairytale ending you always talked about wanting.” 

Hotch smiled faintly, his hands slipping into his pockets as Annie hugged you again. “Thank you for coming,” she said, her voice still warm as she pulled away. “It means so much to have you both here.”

You nodded, your voice unusually soft. “Of course, Annie. We wouldn’t have missed it.”

Annie turned back to the dance floor, leaving the two of you standing there, the weight of her words hanging heavily in the air.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. You glanced at him, your brows knitting together slightly as if you wanted to ask something but weren’t sure where to start. He’s sure from the array of comments he’s thrown at you tonight or the charged energy building between you, you must have a few.

Hotch offered a small smile, his voice low. “She’s a good friend.”

“She’s... enthusiastic,” you said, a weak laugh escaping you.

“Enthusiastic,” he repeated, amusement flickering briefly across his face. “And observant, apparently.”

Your blush deepened, but before the conversation could go any further, another group of your friends waved you over from the bar, calling your name.

“I guess we’re popular tonight,” you said, your tone lighter as you gestured for him to follow.

Hotch nodded, trailing behind you, but his thoughts lingered on Annie’s words. He wasn’t sure what had prompted him to agree with her so openly, but as he watched you laugh with your friends, something told him he wasn’t wrong.

You deserved everything. And perhaps, just perhaps, it wasn’t impossible to imagine being the one to give it to you. He was just glad he could try, even if it was just for tonight.

The energy in the room shifted as the bride announced the bouquet toss, her cheerful voice drawing a crowd of eager participants to the dance floor. Laughter and playful shouts filled the space as single women jostled for prime positions, their eyes gleaming with competitive determination.

You, however, stayed firmly rooted at the edge of the room, leaning casually against a table with your arms crossed. Hotch stood beside you, holding the glass he was nursing on the table.

“Not interested?” he asked, glancing at you, a teasing flint in his eyes.

“Not a chance,” you replied, your tone wry. “I’m perfectly fine over here, out of the line of fire.”

Hotch chuckled softly. “Strategic decision. I can respect that.”

You grinned, turning your attention back to the bride, who was hyping up the crowd with exaggerated gestures. The band struck up a playful tune, and the anticipation in the room reached its peak as Annie turned her back to the group, bouquet in hand.

The toss was dramatic, the bouquet soaring high into the air in a perfect arc. The crowd erupted into shouts and cheers as hands shot up, grasping for the bundle of flowers.

But no one caught it.

Instead, the bouquet ricocheted off a hand, sailed over the group entirely, and arced straight toward you.

You barely had time to react before it bonked you squarely on the head.

Hotch blinked, momentarily stunned as the bouquet bounced off you and landed unceremoniously on the table beside you. There was a beat of silence before laughter erupted around the room, the crowd clearly amused by the unexpected trajectory.

You stared at the bouquet, your mouth slightly agape, before looking up at him, your expression caught somewhere between mortification and disbelief.

“Seriously?” you said, your voice rising just enough to carry over the laughter. “I wasn’t even participating!”

Hotch’s lips twitched, his amusement barely contained as he raised an eyebrow. “Looks like fate had other plans.”

“Fate needs to work on its aim,” you muttered, grabbing the bouquet and holding it up like evidence in a court case.

Hotch allowed himself a full laugh, the sound rare but genuine. “Or maybe it’s trying to tell you something,” he teased, his voice lower as he leaned slightly closer. “Metaphorically speaking, of course.”

Your eyes narrowed at him, though the corners of your mouth betrayed the start of a grin. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Immensely,” he said, his tone deadpan but his eyes gleaming with humor.

You shook your head, muttering something about cosmic irony as you placed the bouquet back on the table. But Hotch could see the faint blush creeping up your neck, and the way your lips curved into a reluctant smile despite your feigned indignation.

As the laughter in the room began to settle and the bride called for the next event, Hotch leaned slightly closer to you, his voice quieter now.

“For what it’s worth,” he said, his tone softer but no less teasing, “I think the roses suit you.” He pulled a few petals from your hair.

You shot him a look, but your smile widened, and for a brief moment, the space between you felt smaller than ever. “I’m more of a sunflower girl,” You played along. 

The band’s leader tapped the microphone, his cheerful voice cutting through the chatter of the reception. “All right, folks, this one’s for the happy couples out there! Join us on the dance floor for one last dance before we call it a night.”

Around the room, couples began to rise, hands intertwined as they made their way to the dance floor. The lights dimmed slightly, casting the space in a warm, golden glow. Hotch stayed in his seat, his gaze drifting to you as you sipped the last of your wine, clearly intent on remaining at the table.

He set his glass down with deliberate precision and stood, extending his hand toward you.

“Come on,” he said, his voice calm but firm.

You looked up at him, your brow furrowing. “What are you doing?”

“We’re dancing,” he replied simply, his tone leaving little room for argument.

Your lips parted in surprise. “Hotch, that’s for couples—”

“According to your friends,” he interrupted, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk, “we’re a couple tonight. Might as well play the part.”

For a moment, you stared at him, clearly torn between amusement and incredulity. But then you sighed, setting your glass down and placing your hand in his. “Fine,” you said, standing with exaggerated reluctance. “But if this ends up being another metaphor, I’m blaming you.”

Hotch chuckled softly, leading you to the dance floor. The band struck up a slow, tender melody, the kind that wrapped itself around you and seemed to quiet the world.

He turned to face you, his hand resting lightly on your waist as you settled your free hand on his shoulder. The contact was familiar now, but this time, the air between you felt heavier—charged. You moved together effortlessly, swaying in time with the music, your steps perfectly in sync.

“See?” he said quietly, his voice just loud enough for you to hear. “Not so bad.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled, your fingers tightening slightly on his shoulder. “You really are impossible, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” he replied, his tone dry but his expression softer than usual.

The conversation lulled, and for a moment, there was nothing but the music and the quiet sound of your breaths mingling in the space between you.

Hotch’s eyes dropped to your face, taking in the way your lashes cast delicate shadows on your cheeks, the faint flush that lingered from the evening’s laughter and wine. You looked up at him then, your gaze meeting his, and the intensity of the moment hit him like a wave.

“You’re staring,” you said softly, your voice tinged with nervous amusement.

He didn’t look away. “Maybe I am.”

Your breath hitched, and Hotch felt your hand shift slightly on his shoulder as though you were steadying yourself. The tension between you was palpable now, a tangible thing that neither of you seemed willing—or able—to break.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” you said, your tone quieter now, almost tentative.

Hotch’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “So are you.”

The song began to wind down, the final notes stretching into a soft, lingering cadence. The room seemed to grow smaller, quieter, as though it held only the two of you.

As the music ended, Hotch realized he hadn’t let go of your waist, and you hadn’t stepped back. For a brief, breathless moment, you both stayed where you were, the silence between you heavy with possibilities.

And though neither of you said it aloud, the line between what you were and what you could be had never felt thinner.

The walk back to the hotel room was quiet, the air between you and Hotch humming with the kind of unspoken tension that had lingered all night. The elevator ride was no better; you stood beside him, close enough that your arm brushed his, and though neither of you spoke, the weight of the evening seemed to settle in the confined space.

By the time the door to the room clicked shut behind you, the silence was thick. You slipped off your shoes with a sigh, placing them neatly by the door as you turned to him with a tired but genuine smile.

“Well,” you said, your voice soft, “that was... something.”

Hotch nodded, setting his jacket neatly over the back of a chair. “It was.”

You glanced at him, your smile tilting into something teasing. “That’s all you’ve got? Just ‘it was’?”

He smirked faintly, loosening his tie. “I think the bouquet toss and the dance floor antics speak for themselves.”

You laughed, the sound warm and familiar, and Hotch felt his shoulders relax slightly despite the tension coursing through him. He watched as you moved to your bag, pulling out a pair of comfortable clothes before disappearing into the bathroom.

The sound of running water filled the room, and Hotch took the opportunity to change into a plain T-shirt and sweats, folding his dress shirt with precise care. When you returned, your makeup washed off, and your hair pulled back, you looked softer somehow—more yourself than you had all night, and it hit him with a quiet force he wasn’t prepared for. Sure, he’d seen you in casual clothes before, but something about the soft cotton clothes, the clean face, and the messy pulled-back hair…it was a sight that warmed him somehow. 

“You’re up,” you said, gesturing toward the bathroom.

Hotch nodded, slipping past you and closing the door behind him. The cool water against his face did little to calm his thoughts, and when he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he found his usual composure slightly fractured.

By the time he returned to the room, you were already under the covers, your head resting against the pillow as you scrolled absentmindedly through your phone. He hesitated for a moment, the sight of you there—so comfortable, so familiar—stirring something deep in his chest.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” you asked, glancing up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he moved to the other side of the bed. Sliding in beside you, he was acutely aware of the space—or lack thereof—between you. When was the last time he shared a bed with someone?

The room fell into a soft silence, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting long shadows against the walls. You set your phone down, turning onto your side to face him, your expression unreadable but open.

“Thanks for tonight,” you said quietly. “For coming with me. For... everything.”

He met your gaze, his voice steady but softer than usual. “You don’t have to thank me. I wanted to be there.”

Your lips quirked into a faint smile, your eyes searching his as though you were trying to decipher something you weren’t quite ready to name.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence stretching but never feeling uncomfortable. Hotch could feel the warmth of your presence, the subtle weight of your gaze, and it was enough to make his throat tighten.

“You’re staring again,” you said, your tone light but tinged with something quieter, something unsure.

“Maybe I am,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath caught, and Hotch felt the space between you shrink—not physically, but emotionally, the air thick with everything unspoken.

“Why do you do that?” you asked after a moment, your voice quieter now.

“Do what?”

“Look at me like that.”

Hotch hesitated, his throat tightening as he searched for the right words. “Like what?”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “Like you’re trying to figure me out. Like you already know something I don’t.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, his voice soft but steady. “Maybe I do.”

You blinked, your breath catching just slightly, and Hotch felt the air between you grow impossibly still.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the silence crackling with tension that neither seemed willing to break. Then, as if pulling yourself out of the moment, you let out a small laugh, your tone turning lighter.

“You’re an enigma, Aaron Hotchner,” you said, your smile faint but genuine as you turned onto your back, breaking the spell.

He exhaled slowly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he reached over to turn off the lamp. “Goodnight,” he said, his voice quieter now, more thoughtful.

“Goodnight,” you replied softly, your words carrying a warmth that settled over the room like a blanket.

As the darkness enveloped them, Hotch lay still, the steady sound of your breathing filling the silence. The unspoken connection between you—the moments that had lingered and stretched throughout the evening—felt as tangible as the bed they shared.

And though he knew crossing the line between friendship and something more was fraught with uncertainty, Hotch couldn’t shake the quiet realization that maybe—just maybe—you were worth the risk.

Hotch stirred awake in the dark, the faint glow of moonlight spilling through the curtains casting soft shadows across the room. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what had woken him—a sound, a shift—but then he became aware of the warmth pressed against him, the steady rise and fall of your breathing.

Somehow, in the night, the two of you had gravitated toward each other. His arm was draped over your waist, his hand resting lightly on your hip, and your head was nestled against his chest. Your hand, delicate and warm, had found its way to his side, clutching the fabric of his shirt as if anchoring yourself to him.

He froze, his breath hitching as he registered the intimacy of the moment. Every instinct told him to pull away, to put space between you before you woke up, but he couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

The soft scent of your hair drifted up to him, and without thinking, his thumb began to trace small, absent circles against your side. The simple act sent a rush of warmth through him, a tenderness he couldn’t quite contain.

You stirred slightly, your body shifting just enough for him to realize you were waking up. His breath caught again, his heart thudding heavily in his chest as he waited—half expecting you to pull away or panic.

But you didn’t. Instead, you tilted your head up, your eyes blinking sleepily in the dim light as they met his.

Neither of you spoke. The silence between you was thick, electric, the air charged with a tension that felt almost unbearable.

Hotch’s hand stilled on your side, his palm now resting against the curve of your hip. He watched you closely, his eyes searching yours for any sign that he should pull back. But you didn’t move away. If anything, you seemed to lean into him, your gaze softening as you stared at him in the quiet.

His chest tightened as he felt the weight of everything unsaid hanging between you. The feelings he’d been trying to push aside for months—years, maybe—were suddenly impossible to ignore.

And then, you moved.

Your hand slid upward, hesitating briefly before coming to rest against his chest. Slowly, tentatively, you shifted closer, your lips brushing his in a kiss so soft it sent a shiver down his spine.

For a moment, neither of you moved, the kiss tender and delicate, as though you were both testing the boundaries of something fragile and new. But then he felt your hand tighten against his chest, and his restraint broke.

Hotch deepened the kiss, his free hand sliding up your back to cradle the base of your neck, his fingers threading gently through your hair. Your lips parted for him, and the kiss grew more heated, more insistent, as though all the tension that had built between you over the years was finally finding its release.

You shifted closer still, your body pressing against his, and Hotch couldn’t help the quiet sound that escaped him. He felt your hand slide up to his jaw, your fingers brushing against the stubble there as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss even further.

It was slow but consuming, a meeting of everything unspoken and everything undeniable. He couldn’t tell where he ended, and you began, the lines between friendship and something more completely and utterly erased.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the dark, your forehead rested against his as you looked up at him with wide, searching eyes.

“Aaron,” you whispered, your voice soft but steady, filled with something he couldn’t quite name.

He swallowed hard, his fingers still tangled in your hair, as he let out a shaky breath. “Say my name like that again,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, his lips curving into the faintest of smiles.

You laughed softly, your hand brushing against his cheek as you leaned in again, this time with more certainty.

And as your lips met his once more, Hotch felt the last of his walls crumble, leaving only the quiet, undeniable truth: he didn’t want to hold back anymore. Not with you. Not ever.

Hotch’s pulse quickened as your lips met his again, this time with a heat that left no room for hesitation. The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate but charged with the kind of intensity that came from years of unspoken longing. Your hand slid from his jaw to his chest, your fingers splaying against the fabric of his shirt as if grounding yourself in the moment.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe. The world outside this room ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you tangled together in the dim light of the night.

When your leg shifted, brushing against his, a low sound escaped his throat—a soft, guttural hum that he hadn’t meant to let slip. You froze for the briefest moment, your eyes flicking up to his, and the sight of you—so close, so vulnerable, so his in that instant—was almost too much.

“Is this okay?” you whispered, your voice breathless and tinged with something fragile, like you were teetering on the edge of disbelief.

Hotch cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he nodded. “It’s more than okay,” he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You smiled softly, and he couldn’t stop himself from leaning forward, pressing another kiss to your lips. This one was slower but no less fervent, his hand sliding from your face to rest against the curve of your waist, pulling you closer.

Your body shifted against his, your hands wandering—tentative at first, but quickly growing bolder. One hand curled around the back of his neck, your fingers tangling in the short hairs there, while the other slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, your palm pressing against the warm skin of his chest.

Hotch’s breath hitched, his own hands growing less restrained as they skimmed your back, tracing the line of your spine. The soft, sleepy rhythm of your breathing was broken by quiet, barely audible gasps as his hands found the curve of your hips, pulling you flush against him.

“Aaron,” you murmured against his lips, the sound of his name sending a shiver down his spine.

His lips left yours, trailing a path along your jawline to the soft curve of your neck. He felt the way your body arched into his touch, the subtle press of your hips against his igniting something deeper, something he could no longer hold back.

“You have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice low and uneven, “how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your fingers tightened against him, and when he pulled back to look at you, your eyes were glassy, your lips slightly parted. “Me too,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

His restraint was unraveling with every second, every touch, every soft sound that escaped your lips. But he forced himself to pause, his forehead resting against yours as he took a steadying breath.

“Tell me to stop,” he said softly, his hands stilling against your waist even as every fiber of his being begged him to keep going. “If you need me to, I will.”

You shook your head slightly, your fingers brushing against his cheek as you leaned up to kiss him again, slow but filled with unmistakable intent. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whispered, the words a quiet promise.

Hotch exhaled shakily, his lips capturing yours again as he shifted, rolling onto his back and pulling you with him. The weight of you pressed against him, the warmth of your skin beneath his hands—it was everything he hadn’t let himself dream of, and now that it was happening, he couldn’t imagine ever letting it go.

The kisses grew more urgent, more consuming, the sleepy haze between you dissolving into something sharper, hungrier. His hands roamed your body with a reverence that bordered on worship, memorizing every curve, every tremble, every quiet sigh that spilled from your lips.

Hotch’s breath hitched as you shifted over him, your hands braced on his chest for balance. The delicate weight of you, your thighs straddling his hips, was intoxicating in a way he hadn’t anticipated. Pressing your center against him, a breathy groan left his lips. His hands found their way to your waist, his fingers splaying across the soft fabric of your shirt as though memorizing every detail of this moment.

Your hair fell slightly into your face, and you looked down at him with a mixture of nervousness and desire that sent his pulse hammering in his chest. He met your gaze, his eyes dark and searching, trying to convey everything he felt but couldn’t say aloud.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, the words a quiet plea for confirmation. He knew after this there was no going back. 

You nodded, your smile soft but steady as you leaned forward, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was equal parts tender and heated. “I’ve never been more sure,” you whispered against his mouth.

The kiss deepened, slow and deliberate at first, but quickly growing more fervent. Your hands moved to his shoulders, gripping him as though anchoring yourself to him, while his hands slid upward, pulling your shirt over your head and tossing it to the side.

For a moment, he simply looked at you, his gaze tracing the lines of your body, the soft glow of the moonlight making your skin seem almost ethereal. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

You flushed under his gaze, but instead of shying away, you leaned down, kissing him again with a new intensity. Your hands found the hem of his shirt, tugging it upward until he helped you remove it entirely. The cool air brushed against his skin, but all he could focus on was the warmth of you, the way your touch left a trail of fire in its wake.

As the last remnants of clothing were shed, the barrier between you dissolved entirely. You settled back over him, your bare skin pressing against his, and he let out a low, shaky exhale as his hands gripped your hips, steadying you.

“God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion as he looked up at you.

You smiled softly, your hands resting on his chest as you leaned down to kiss him again, slow and deliberate, as though savoring every moment. “I think I’m starting to figure it out,” you murmured against his lips, your voice filled with a quiet confidence that made his chest tighten.

Hotch’s hands guided your movements, his touch firm but reverent, as though you were something precious—something he didn’t want to break. The connection between you was electric, every touch, every kiss deepening the bond that had been building for years.

As your bodies moved together, the world around you faded completely, leaving only the quiet hum of your shared breaths and the unspoken promise that whatever had changed between you tonight was something neither of you could—or would—ever take back.

As you rocked against him, his breath hitched, and he couldn’t stop the quiet groan that escaped him. “You’re incredible,” he murmured, his hands cupping your face as he pulled you down into a kiss that was as tender as it was consuming.

When you pulled back, your gaze locked with his, your expression soft but filled with intensity. “I never knew it could feel like this,” you admitted, your voice quiet but raw with emotion.

He swallowed hard, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he whispered, “Neither did I.”

The words hung between you for a moment, the weight of them adding a new depth to the passion that had overtaken you. And as you moved together, Hotch felt a sense of completeness that he hadn’t known he was missing—something he realized, in this moment, he could never let go of.

Hotch’s breath came in uneven gasps, his body attuned to every shift of yours, every quiet sound that spilled from your lips. His hands gripped your hips, his fingers pressing into your skin just enough to guide you, to hold you steady as you moved together.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured again, his voice thick and low. His eyes traced the line of your jaw, the way your lips parted as you moved, your body responding to his in a way that made his pulse race.

Your hand slid up his chest, your fingers curling lightly around the base of his neck as you leaned closer. “I don’t think you realize,” you said softly, your voice trembling with emotion, “what you’re doing to me.”

His lips curved into a faint, breathless smirk as he leaned up, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was deep and consuming. “I think I have an idea,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a husky whisper. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing it.”

You laughed quietly, the sound trailing off into a soft sigh as his hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. “You make it hard to think,” you admitted, your tone teasing but edged with something deeper, more vulnerable.

“Good,” he replied, his hands shifting to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing against your cheeks. “Because right now, all I can think about is you.”

Your eyes met his, and the intensity of your gaze made his chest tighten. “I want this,” you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. “I want you.”

Hotch exhaled shakily, his forehead resting against yours as he slowed your movements, savoring the connection between you. “You have me,” he said quietly, his voice steady but filled with quiet intensity. “You’ve always had me.”

Your lips parted as if to respond, but instead, you kissed him again, your fingers threading through his hair as you pressed closer, deeper, until there was no space left between you.

The rhythm between you was slow but deliberate, each movement, each touch, carrying a weight that neither of you could ignore. It wasn’t just passion—it was everything you hadn’t said, every unspoken feeling finally given form.

When you pulled back slightly, your breath brushing against his lips, Hotch found himself gripping your hips just a little tighter, grounding himself in the reality of you above him. Your skin glowed in the faint moonlight, and the look in your eyes—dark, heavy with desire—took what little restraint he had left and shattered it.

“Aaron Hotchner,” you whispered, your voice breathless, a mix of teasing and reverence. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

He let out a low, quiet laugh, his hands sliding up your back, his fingers tracing slow, deliberate lines. “I could say the same about you,” he murmured, his voice rough as his lips brushed the curve of your jaw.

You shivered under his touch, your lips curling into a small, wicked smile. “Are you saying I’m full of surprises?” you asked, your tone playful, your hips rolling against his in a way that made his breath catch.

Hotch let out a soft groan, his head tipping back against the pillow as his hands found their way to your thighs. “I’m saying,” he said, his voice low and filled with heat, “that you might just be the death of me.”

You leaned down, your lips hovering just above his, teasing him with the barest of touches. “I guess that makes us even,” you whispered, your words trailing off into a kiss that was anything but tentative.

The kiss deepened, your movements growing slower, more deliberate as your hands roamed over him, pulling him impossibly closer. Hotch’s fingers tangled in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his other hand tracing the curve of your back in a way that made you arch into him.

“You feel incredible,” he breathed against your lips, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “Like you were made for me.”

As the room filled with nothing but the quiet sound of your breaths and the faint rustle of sheets, Hotch couldn’t help but marvel at how natural this felt—how right it was to have you like this, in his arms, every unspoken word replaced by the undeniable connection between you.

And as the tension between you reached its peak, he realized with startling clarity that this wasn’t just a fleeting moment—this was something neither of you could ever undo. And he didn’t want to.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Your face was still buried against his neck, and he could feel the rapid thrum of your heartbeat gradually slowing against his chest. Hotch tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there as he tried to find the right words for what he was feeling.

It wasn’t fleeting. It wasn’t casual. It was something far deeper, something he hadn’t allowed himself to believe he could feel again.

You stirred slightly, shifting so you could meet his gaze, your hair falling messily around your face. Your eyes searched his, and the vulnerability there—soft and unguarded—made his throat tighten.

“Well,” you murmured, your voice quiet but tinged with a nervous laugh, “that just happened.”

Hotch’s lips twitched into a faint smile, his thumb brushing lazily against your back. “It did,” he replied softly, his voice steady despite the emotions threatening to bubble to the surface.

You blinked down at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice carrying a hesitance that tugged at his heart.

He shifted beneath you, his hands settling on your hips as he met your gaze. “I’m more than okay,” he said, his tone quiet but firm. “Are you?”

Your lips parted slightly, your gaze flickering between his eyes as though trying to read him. Slowly, a small smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. “Yeah,” you said softly, nodding. “I think I am.”

The tension in his chest eased slightly, but his thumb continued its soothing motion against your hip. “Good,” he murmured. “Because I don’t—” He paused, exhaling quietly. “I don’t want this to be something you regret.”

“Regret?” you echoed, your smile widening faintly. “Hotch, do I look like someone who regrets this?”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin. “No,” he admitted, his voice lighter now. “But I had to make sure.”

You leaned down, brushing your lips against his in a kiss so soft it made his chest tighten all over again. “You’re impossible,” you whispered against his mouth, your tone teasing but filled with affection.

“And yet, here we are,” he replied, his lips curving into a smirk as he kissed you again.

You laughed softly, resting your forehead against his as your hands slid to his shoulders, your touch light and lingering. “Here we are,” you repeated, your voice quieter now, almost reflective.

Hotch let the silence stretch for a moment, his hands tracing gentle patterns along your sides as he memorized the feel of you against him. Whatever this was—whatever it had turned into—he wasn’t going to let it slip away.

“You should probably get some sleep,” he murmured, his voice tinged with humor as he glanced toward the faint glow of the bedside clock.

“Sleep?” you teased, raising an eyebrow as you shifted slightly, your lips brushing against his jaw. “After all that? I’m not sure that’s possible.”

Hotch chuckled softly, his hands sliding up to cradle your face. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You grinned, leaning into his touch as your eyes softened. “Good. You should.”

As the quiet settled over the room once more, Hotch let his eyes drift closed, your body still pressed against his, your warmth anchoring him in a way he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, the world outside could wait. All that mattered was here and now, with you.

Hotch wasn’t sure how much time had passed, the quiet rhythm of your breathing against his chest blurring the line between minutes and hours. His hand rested against your back, his fingers tracing slow, idle patterns along your skin, grounding himself in the reality of your presence.

“You’re quiet,” you murmured after a while, your voice soft and drowsy, the words more of a thought spoken aloud than a question.

He glanced down at you, your head still resting on his chest, your hand lazily draped over his ribs. “I’m just... thinking,” he admitted, his voice low, the weight of the night settling over him in a way that felt both overwhelming and comforting.

You tilted your head up to look at him, your expression sleepy but curious. “About what?”

His fingers paused for a moment, resting lightly against your side. “About how different this feels,” he said honestly, his eyes meeting yours. “How right it feels.”

Your lips parted slightly, your expression softening into something vulnerable, open. “It does,” you agreed quietly, your hand sliding up to rest against his chest. “It scares me a little.”

Hotch’s chest tightened at your words, but he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “It scares me too,” he admitted, his voice steady but filled with quiet emotion. “But not enough to make me stop.”

You smiled faintly, your fingers tracing small circles against his skin. “What does this mean?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “For us?”

Hotch exhaled, his hand moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It means I don’t want to go back to what we had before,” he said softly. “Not after this.”

You blinked up at him, the weight of his words settling between you. “Me neither,” you said after a moment, your voice carrying a quiet strength.

The room fell into a comfortable silence, the unspoken understanding between you growing stronger with each passing second. Hotch shifted slightly, pulling you closer against him, his arm wrapping around your waist as if to keep you there, to keep this moment from slipping away.

Your fingers curled against his chest, and you tilted your head up, your lips brushing against his in a kiss that was softer now, slower, as though sealing the unspoken promise you’d just made.

When you pulled back, your eyes searched his, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “I guess we’ll figure it out,” you said softly, the words carrying a quiet certainty that made his chest tighten.

“We will,” he replied, his voice low but firm.

Hotch lay awake long after you’d drifted off, your body warm and relaxed against his. The weight of what had happened between you lingered in the air, a heady mix of tenderness and an undeniable shift in the foundation of your relationship.

He let his fingers trace idle patterns along your back, his touch feather-light as he memorized the curve of your spine, the subtle rise and fall of your breathing. For years, he’d been disciplined in keeping the boundaries of your friendship intact, maintaining the line that separated what was and what could never be. But tonight, that line had dissolved completely, leaving in its wake something deeper, something that felt achingly right.

You stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh as you nestled closer to him, your hand sliding across his chest as though instinctively seeking him even in sleep. His chest tightened, a quiet warmth spreading through him as he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

He’d spent so much of his life thinking he wasn’t allowed to have this—not after everything he’d been through, not after the sacrifices he’d made. But with you, it didn’t feel like he was taking something he wasn’t entitled to. It felt like finding something he hadn’t realized he’d been searching for all along.

Tomorrow would bring its own questions, its own complications. The team would notice the shift between you, and the world wouldn’t wait for you both to navigate whatever this had become. But for now, in the quiet sanctuary of the room, with you tucked safely against him, Hotch allowed himself to just be.

And as the first light of dawn began to creep through the curtains, he held you a little closer, silently vowing that whatever came next, he would be ready. Because for the first time in a long time, he felt whole. And he wasn’t about to let that go

Hotch’s gaze lingered on your sleeping face, soft and unguarded in the early light. A quiet determination settled in his chest, stronger than anything he’d felt in years. You deserved to know—without question or hesitation—that you were worth everything. Worth the quiet moments and the stormy ones, the laughter and the tears, the time and the effort. Any man too blind or foolish to see that had only done him a favor, because now, you were here with him. And he would never take that for granted. He would make sure, every single day, that you never doubted your worth again. Because with you, Hotch finally understood what it meant to have something—and someone—he could never let go. And he wouldn’t let you forget it.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

@justyourusualash

[fazedlight]

Shadow (post-canon fluff)

“So what can we expect from tomorrow’s gala?” the newscaster asked.

Lena smiled, stopping herself from shifting nervously in the bright lights above her, glancing instead to the news studio’s camera as she spoke. “The gala is a black-tie fundraiser event for the Lena Luthor Foundation’s first project - an outreach program aimed at teaching STEM concepts to inner city children.”

“Fascinating,” the newscaster said, “And how will this education program work?”

“The children will be taught basic computer science concepts, and also have access to learn to code robots to compete in an obstacle course competition,” Lena said, eyes shifting back to the newscaster as she spoke, attempting to look as conversational and relaxed as possible. God, it’s been a while since I’ve done this, she thought to herself. “By giving the children real-world instruction, we hope they will be excited to see what one can really do with engineering and science.”

“And will your new girlfriend be attending the gala?”

As much as Lena had no problem staying composed, she could never quite master keeping the blush out of her cheeks. Not when it came to Kara. “She will be attending as well,” Lena confirmed, “Kara is a strong believer in a science education, having grown up with a strong tradition of scientific exploration on Krypton.”

“I imagine she’s an exception to the black tie rules,” the newscaster said.

“Of course,” Lena grinned, “We think the city is ready to know the real Supergirl.”

“Do you think your brother would be proud?”

The smile stuck to Lena’s face - no one but her closest friends would know that anything was amiss from her expression. But the question was certainly charged. While Earth Prime Lex had been known as a philanthropist, his quest for power had come out during the trial - somehow lauded by the public - only for him to attack the world and disappear into the phantom zone, leaving a confused public behind.

I guess I’ll never really escape him, Lena thought tiredly. In Stryker’s or dead or stuck in the phantom zone - none of it mattered. It seemed that Lex would always linger over her. “My brother’s legacy is complex,” Lena said, somewhat frustrated that she couldn’t be more direct on Earth Prime about who her brother really was. “I hope to honor the Luthor name, whatever that would’ve meant to him.” “Well, some very lucky children are about to have a fantastic summer,” the newscaster said back. “Thank you for joining us today, Lena.” “It was a pleasure,” Lena said.

---

Lying in the cool darkness of her bedroom - the setting sun hardly penetrating the windows anymore - Lena dozed quietly, relieved that the day was done.

Light footsteps padded down the hallway, causing a warm feeling in Lena’s chest. Kara’s home, she thought, and she was greeted only moments later by the kryptonian slipping into bed beside her, hugging around her back. “There’s Belly Burger in the kitchen,” Kara murmured, nuzzling softly into Lena’s hair. 

“Thank you,” Lena said back, “I needed that.”

“Rough day?”

“Not particularly. Just… him.”

Lena could feel Kara’s head on the pillow behind her, the kryptonian holding her quietly, giving Lena the space to think. “I think it’s more exhausting here,” Lena said eventually, “Lex, on this Earth.”

“Because they think he was a hero?”

“They don’t understand how someone who could work so closely with you,” Lena said, slowly rolling over on the bed to look at Kara directly, “Could turn around and try to kill you. At least on Earth 38, his first response to Superman was to build a kryptonite suit. People knew where things stood. I didn’t have to dance around.”

Kara hugged Lena more tightly. “I’m sorry, Lena,” she said.

Lena sighed, planting a small kiss on Kara’s lips. “I’ll be fine. I just wish I could get away from it sometimes.”

Kara’s brow furrowed thoughtfully, as she reached up to caress Lena’s face. Lena could almost see the thoughts dance behind her eyes, before she smiled softly. “What is it?” Lena asked.

“I…” Kara trailed off for a moment. “I was wondering, if you would like to visit Argo soon? Maybe after the gala? They’ve barely heard of Lex up there.”

Lena’s eyes shifted between Kara’s, small relief flowing through her body. “That sounds perfect.”

---

“Why do you think your brother started hating aliens?”

“Ms. Danv- er, Supergirl- what does Cat Grant think of ethics in journalism?”

“Your brother was a great man - what do you think caused him to snap?”

Lena sighed in relief as the dancing began, happy to have an excuse to lead Kara to the dance floor instead of continuing conversation with the various donors and reporters roaming about. At least the flashing cameras were less intrusive.

Kara, for her part, seemed almost curious at the extra attention. “This’ll take some getting used to,” she murmured playfully, lightly twirling Lena in her arms and setting off another flurry of photo flashes.

“They’ll calm down eventually,” Lena said, “There are only so many Super and a Luthor headlines that people will read.”

“Ready for our trip tomorrow?” Kara asked.

“More than ready.”

---

Alura hugged her warmly when they arrived. “It’s nice to get away,” Lena said, following Alura and Kara from J’onn’s ship to the El home.

She was somewhat disbelieving that she was really sitting in a kryptonian kitchen, on the remnants of an alien planet. With Zor-El off on an overnight deployment to oversee routine maintenance to Argo’s shield, the three of them spent Lena’s first night on Argo sipping on hot chocolate that Kara had brought from Earth. 

Lena found Alura was easy to open up to. “It’s just tiring, being in Lex’s shadow,” Lena said. “For once I wish I could be seen on my own terms.”

Lena thought she noticed Alura glance to Kara, but the thought didn’t linger as Alura looked back to Lena again. “Kara and Kal have told me of the feud,” she said sympathetically.

“It’ll be nice getting away from his name for a while,” Lena confessed. “I can just be Lena, instead of Lex’s little sister.”

“We’ll be going to the markets tomorrow,” Kara said, glancing from Lena to Alura. “I want to show Lena the town square.”

“I’m sure she’ll like it,” Alura said, exchanging what Lena was certain was a look with Kara. What’s that about?, she wondered, but Alura quickly moved on. “Is it strange not being a super here?” Alura asked Kara.

Kara smiled. “I’m home again.”

Lena took in Kara’s expression, the ease in her body. They talked about it from time to time - what it meant for Kara to have powers she constantly needed to control. Though she didn’t need to balance two identities anymore, there would always be the physical fatigue of controlling her powers on Earth.

Lena smiled. At least they’d have Argo as a refuge - where Lena wasn’t defined as Lex’s little sister, and Kara wasn’t defined by being a super.

---

Kara seemed oddly nervous that morning as they dressed. Lena was excited - to understand a little more of Kara’s home, to see a new culture - but she couldn’t quite understand her girlfriend’s nerves. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it,” Lena said curiously. “You don’t need to worry.”

Kara smiled back, reaching out to take Lena’s hand as they exited her parents’ home. The markets took place twice a week, in the large central park that now served as Argo’s main gathering place. But it seemed Kara wasn’t going directly to the center of the large field, instead detouring to the east. “Where are we going?” Lena asked.

“I want to show you Argo’s heroes first.”

Lena tilted her head curiously, following the kryptonian. The expanse around the city was laid out in a series of ringed parks, and they rotated clockwise along the various paths, Kara pointing out different statues that honored the important historical figures of Krypton.

As they passed a playground, heading beyond the fourth ring of trees, Lena found herself looking at another statue ahead, with another bright and cheery view of the city’s skyscrapers in the background.

But what caught Lena’s eye this time as they approached the statue wasn’t the beautiful sights, but instead the familiar face staring back at her - proud and noble, holding glowing purple stone. What is this?, Lena thought.

They approached the statue - a small smile crossing Kara’s lips - and Lena’s eyes darted around it, eventually reading the plaque spelling her own name, with a string of kryptonian beneath. Lena could feel the blush crawling up her cheeks at her own confusion, her heart racing in disbelief. “Me?” Lena said softly. “They think I’m a hero?”

“You gave Argo the harun-el,” Kara said. “Every year, the Luthor Festival celebrates the day my mother returned with the recipe.”

The Luthor festival is about me, Lena thought, placing a hand at the base of the statue, realizing that tears were starting to threaten her vision. But she didn’t care. This… this is about me. What I did.

Kara smiled, squeezing Lena’s other hand, seeming to read her thoughts. “You saved all of them, Lena,” Kara said, as Lena’s heart raced, “To my people, the Luthor name is defined by you.”

Lena smiled widely, tears still threatening to spill as she turned into a waiting Kara’s arms, who squeezed her tightly. Lena’s arms wrapped around Kara in return, as she let out a choked laugh, placing her head on Kara’s shoulder as she melted into her. “Thank you for showing me this,” she murmured. “Thank you.”

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

This headcanon was first mentioned in Echoes of the Forest, but I felt I wanted to write a ficlet for it. Please also check out this beautiful art I commissioned from @heeeygracie!

[nczennie]

angel is the centerfold.

Pairing: Reader x Ateez's Yunho AU: Exes, Nonidol Genre: Smut (18+ only) Preview: "You never would've imagined she'd be doing something like this, right?" Wooyoung asks trying to divert from the fact that he and San had looked at you. Yunho purses his lips and closes the magazine, eyes twitching as he tries his hardest not to glance down at it. "It is very surprising," he mumbles recalling when you both dated. Words: 3.8k *warnings under cut

Warnings: Protected penetrative sex- vaginal and anal, ass play, spitting, cum eating

Yunho stares at the small clock in the corner of his computer, blinking slowly as he waits for it to hit 5:00pm. He usually doesn't mind his office job, but it's Friday evening and his eyes are burning from staring at the bright screen all week.

All he wants now is to get home and order some takeout to enjoy with a cold beer while he hops on a game with Yeosang.

But when he finally enters his home, he frowns at the sight of two of his friends making themselves comfortable on his couch.

"Finally!" Wooyoung calls out throwing his head back causing Yunho to roll his eyes as he sets his stuff down, "There was traffic." He grumbles suddenly regretting his decision to give all his friends keys to his apartment when he was feeling sentimental about moving out after university.

Yunho takes a seat beside his friends on his couch ignoring them in favor of looking at the takeout menu on his phone. But sensing Wooyoung's stare he looks up, feeling uneasy with the smug smile on his face. "What?" He asks blankly causing Wooyoung to laugh so he looks to his other friend, San, who has a bit of a frown on his lips.

"You'll never guess what San stumbled across today." He smirks and Yunho's interest is peaked, placing his phone down to give them his full attention. Wooyoung nods towards San who sighs.

"Look I don't want your judgment, just focus on the main point, okay?" San defends sitting up and Wooyoung only laughs louder. San continues, "I was on my lunch break, and I was intrigued by this magazine-"

Wooyoung laughs louder, San blushes, and Yunho stares confused, waiting for the point. "Anyways I bought the magazine, and I was looking through it and found someone I recognized."

"What kind of magazine was it?" Wooyung teases and San shakes his head, "It was a dirty magazine, alright. Don't act like you don't fucking watch porn every night, I can hear you know." Wooyoung mouth forms a straight, unamused line, "Don't bring me into this."

San ignores him, reaching to grab the magazine and hand it to Yunho, "You should see who's in it, right in the middle."

Yunho grabs the magazine suddenly intrigued, flipping along to find the middle. Who could it be, an old teacher, someone they grew up with?

But as he finds the middle, opening up the magazine to look his heart drops to see it was someone he recognizes very well. It was you.

His face turns red as he takes in the pictures, you were shirtless, your breasts on display for all to see, only a pair of skimpy underwear and some socks covering you up. Your hair and makeup were glowy and flawless as you gave the camera a sultry look, mouth slightly parted.

"Angel is the centerfold," Wooyoung smirks, and Yunho is suddenly brought to the reality that his friends saw you like this.

"You both looked at this?" He glares at them, and they seem stuck. "I bought the magazine, of course, I looked at it!" San defends himself and Wooyoung joins, "And when he saw her, he had to show me to see if it was really her."

Yunho's dark look only stays as he tries to comprehend the fact that his friends saw his ex-once innocent- girlfriend practically naked. He remembers Seonghwa once accidentally walked in on you changing and he tackled him to the ground.

"You never would've imagined she'd be doing something like this, right?" Wooyoung asks trying to divert from the fact that he and San had looked at you. Yunho purses his lips and closes the magazine, eyes twitching as he tries his hardest not to glance down at it. "It is very surprising," he mumbles recalling when you both dated it took months before either of you were comfortable to take your shirts off in front of each other.

There's a beat of silence and Wooyoung sighs feeling the tension in the air after showing Yunho, "Well we best be going, just wanted to show you." He motions towards the magazine as he stands up. San follows as Yunho sighs, "Yeah thanks I guess."

The tall boy looks up confused from the couch as he realizes San still stands in front of him despite Wooyoung walking to the door. "Um, can I have my magazine?" He murmurs shyly and Yunho forgets he has to send this picture of you home with his friends. "Don't worry, he'll skip over her page when he's tugging himself off later." Wooyoung calls from the door and Yunho only glares up at San who turns red.

Yunho stands and shoves the magazine back into San's arms who quickly rushes out the door. He can still hear Wooyoung's loud laugh even after they close the door.

He's had his takeout, his cold beer, and has at this point won several rounds of his game. But now lying in bed there's still a thought nagging in the back of his mind.

With a huff he grabs his phone off the nightstand, squinting at the brightness in his dark room before opening the Instagram app. You had never had social media before, but he figured it was worth checking. Although his heart raced at the possibility that your profile was full of pictures similar to one, he saw earlier.

After searching for a few minutes, he finds you. It's a private profile but he recognizes your smile in the profile picture. You look happy standing on what looks like a beach behind you.

You and Yunho dated for years back in university. The both of you growing and blossoming together. Being shy and inexperienced in the world of dating, you both learned a lot from each other. Romantically, emotionally, sexually...

Therefore, Yunho can't help but be surprised to see you posing in such a way for all to see when he was the first to ever see you in such a way.

After minutes of contemplating, he pushes the follow request button before tossing his phone away from him. It's not like you ended on bad terms. You both just simply grew apart as you grew up. So it couldn't be that strange for him to follow you, right?

But Yunho pushes the thought out of his mind, not allowing himself to look at his phone any longer until morning.

It's late the next morning when the notification he was waiting for finally graces his phone. Not only had you accepted his follow request, but you requested to follow him back. His heart beats expectedly as he pushes to see your profile.

To his relief, or dismay? He isn't quite sure.

There are no such posts that resemble that of the magazine. Most of them are of your travels and he carefully makes his way through each one.

Yunho stays staring at your profile as he contemplates whether or not he should message you. What would he even say? My friends showed me your picture in a dirty magazine and now I can't stop thinking about you and all the things we used to do together. Probably a bit too much, so he settles for letting you follow him back as well.

A week later he sees you post to your story. A picture of you and a friend out to drink at a bar he recognizes being downtown. His thumb hesitates but eventually pushes the like button and focuses on his friend's conversation once more.

Later that night he's comfortably lounging on the couch when he gets a notification from Instagram. He sits up straighter when he sees you've sent him a direct message.

His throat feels dry as he quickly opens it. What if it was a mistake? You had been drinking tonight as he could see from your story. But the message is simple.

Yunho :) how are you?

He can't help but smile and he replies quickly not even thinking how it might seem desperate.

But alas that is how he spent the rest of the night, and the whole weekend talking and catching up with you. It was so nice he even almost forgot about your picture in the magazine. Almost.

It's the next weekend and you and Yunho just got back from a lovely date. He took you for ice cream after work and you thought it was cute he recreated your old first date all those years ago.

However, you are both older now so when Yunho asked if you wanted to come back to his place to...have a drink, you agreed.

"The view is amazing," You state in awe as you walk over to the large windows that overlooks the city. Yunho smiles from where he's lighting some candles, "I guess the office job pays off once in a while."

He moves towards the kitchen to pour you both a drink and you enjoy the view for a moment longer before joining him. "You saw one of my pictures, didn't you?"

Yunho's hand twitches and he accidentally spills the whisky which causes a giggle to grace your lips. He feels his ears start to burn as he grabs a towel to clean his mess. "Um," he starts but falls quiet. "From the magazine." You state again as if you couldn't tell he was just embarrassed rather than unsure.

A smile lingers on your face as you take the glass he hands you and take a sip from his own. "I did, yeah. Actually, it was San and Wooyoung who saw and showed me."

He watches as your mouth parts slightly before you let out a laugh. Bring the glass to your lips, and you clear your throat after taking a sip. "I guess that's pretty awkward." He can't help but smile softly at you, "I mean they were pretty amused." A blush rises to your cheeks as you shake your head with a shy smile.

"How did you know? That I saw, I mean." Yunho states and you look up at him once again. "This wouldn't be the first time someone from my past found me on social media after seeing my pictures." You chuckle, "Guys from high school, university, hell even my physics professor reached out after seeing." He frowns both from hearing about the weird professor and because he feels a bit chummy about doing the same as all these others reaching out to you.

Seeing his reaction you speak again, "But of course I've never replied to their messages and advances. I've blocked almost all of them too." You take another sip and he feels a bit more comfortable.

"So how exactly did you start doing this? I don't exactly recall this being related to your major." He teases slightly and you laugh softly. "When I moved after graduation, my roommate suggested I go for an audition where she worked too. It wasn't supposed to be permanent, just to help with money while I was searching for jobs."

"But the money ended up being amazing. Now a couple years later and I still enjoy it." You shrug, "I won't do it forever, but for now I can live comfortably and travel lots. So it works out." You explain and he nods listening intently.

The sips of whisky are starting to set in, so he speaks again, "And you messaged me. What makes me different than all those other guys searching for you after seeing your pictures?"

You look up at him, eyes dancing over his face before you smile, "Because you're Yunho. We loved each other once."

His tongue comes out to wet his lips as he stares back down at you.

"Fuck, there you go."

Yunho groans letting his eyes close for a moment before he forces them open once more, not wanting to miss the sinful way you take his cock in your mouth. You're on your knees between his legs as he sits on his bed. Wearing nothing but your white panties and a pair of frilly socks that looked cute with your outfit, but now looks identical to your outfit in the magazine.

His mouth parts with a shaky breath as you take him particularly deep. You were never quite able to take in all of his size, but you always worked your hand diligently around what you couldn't fit.

Your glazed eyes looked up at him as if seeking his reactions. His large hand reaches down to move some of the hair falling onto your face, not wanting it to reach the spit and drool leaking from your mouth.

It's with a hollow of your cheeks and a swipe of your tongue that Yunho has to pull you off of him for fear of finishing too early. He pulls you off with a pop and messily connects his mouth with yours, his tongue parting the string of spit that still connected your mouth to his cock.

His large hands reach down to grasp at your waist and pull you to sit beside him on the bed. Yunho still kisses you deeply, tongue reaching every part of your mouth.

Eventually, he breaks to leave wet kisses down your jaw to your neck as you both catch your breath. Goosebumps rise to your skin as his left-hand ghosts over your stomach before reaching into your panties. A small gasp leaves your lips as he immediately connects with your clit, rubbing slow circles to match the pace of his kisses.

"Yunho," you whine, hips twitching up as he lowers his hand, one of his long fingers slipping into your hole with your wetness. He hums against your neck as you clench around him.

He adds another finger to your heat as he nibbles playfully at your jaw, "My baby's so tight." You can only grip his sheets between your fingers as he continues to stretch you out for him slowly.

Without warning he removes his fingers from you and reaches for your panties to take off. Pulling them down your legs as he pushes you further onto the bed. "Turn around for me, baby, wanna taste you." Yunho says in his deep voice and you whimper as you flip yourself.

You get yourself comfortable on your knees, leaning forward to rest on your forearms as Yunho climbs onto the mattress behind you. You can't help but bite your lip and close your eyes as Yunho's warm hands find their place on your ass. Massaging you roughly before you feel the warmth of his breath on you.

Shuddering out a moan as his tongue makes contact with your core, you feel as he hums in response. He uses his hands to spread you for him, taking a second to spit straight on your cunt, adding to your wetness and watching it drip before he goes straight in to slurp it up.

Forgetting just how messy Yunho likes to get while eating you out, you find yourself getting breathless from moaning in this position. The feeling of his tongue and lips moving against you, obviously loving it just as much as you as you feel him push his face against you.

You mull as he lets his tongue wander upwards, circling around your ass, causing you to jerk. He lets his tongue play there before moving to your cunt once more. Yunho has always been into ass play but while the two of dated, you never went farther than his tongue or fingertips gracing over you.

He pulls away with a slap to your ass and you whine causing him to chuckle as he reaches for his nightstand. Grabbing a condom and placing it on himself as quickly as possible.

"C'mon, Yunho, please." You attempt to move your hips backward to meet him as he teases his cock along your folds but never quite pushes himself fully in. He tsks, "Needy baby." He mumbles before finally pushing his tip into your waiting hole.

"Fuck, so big." You whine as he continues to push fully inside of you. A sound of pleasure rumbles in his chest as his pelvis pushes flat against your ass. Both of you take a moment to adjust before he starts moving his hips steadily.

One of Yunho's large hands comes to grab at your hip, helping keep his pace steady as he pounds his cock into you at a more rapid pace. Tiny sounds of pleasure leave your lips as he rocks into, "You feel so good around me baby, I've missed this." Yuhno claims breathlessly.

Suddenly you have a desire that causes you to bite your lip. You reach one of your hands up behind you, keeping your balance as you bring your hand to where you and Yunho meet. "Yeah," He groans breathlessly as he watches two of your fingers spread over where his cock is splitting you open.

Seconds later you move those same fingers upwards towards your less occupied hole, running your fingers over it as you speak up to Yunho. "You can go here." You say the best you can.

His hips stutter before he stills completely, "What?" He asks, not quite sure if the sex is making him hallucinate. A giggle escapes your lips at his reaction. "You can put it in my ass, Yunho." You say bluntly which causes Yunho to blush despite the fact that his cock remains in your cunt.

"Really?" He tries not to sound too excited as you do your best to look at him from your bent-over position. "Yes, but go slow, please. I haven't had something as big as you are yet." A shudder rakes over him at your words and he has to close his eyes for a second before continuing. "Alright," he speaks but starts to move his hips to fuck you once more.

His pace is slower now as he focuses on the new territory in front of him. Using both of his hands to spread you open for him, he spits directly into your unused hole. Taking one of the fingers to spread it diligently before pushing said finger in.

It causes both of your eyes to close, Yunho's heart pounding as he feels the tightness of you. His hips start to move quicker as he moves his finger more comfortably, moving to fit a second one not long after.

Having enough, he pulls his fingers from your ass before spitting twice more onto the hole. Taking his cock out of you, he leans forwards to run his tongue over your ass once more. Licking and spitting in ways that have whining.

With a shaky breath, he brings himself straight, taking his covered cock in his hand, lining the tip up to you. "Fuck," He whispers merely at the sight, breathing in before he pushes into you.

He can feel you tense right away but a moan rips from your throat at the stretch. True to his word, he moves slowly, unable to move his eyes from the sight of his cock entering you in a place he only ever dreamed of.

Once he's finally as far as he can get, he pauses, for you but as well as for him. He has to close his eyes and breathe deeply to stop himself from cumming right then and there.

"So good, so full. Yunho, you're so big," You whine to him which causes him to throw his head back with a groan. You always did know how to stroke his ego.

Yunho licks his lips when he decides it is safe to move, moving his hips slowly to start to fuck you once again. His pace isn't as fast as earlier, but you both enjoy this slower pace in new territory. He lets his hands grip tightly onto your ass, massaging you roughly as he continues.

Eventually a soft, "My neck hurts," breaks from your mouth in between moans which causes him to stop. With a smile, he pulls out and helps you readjust to a more comfortable position on your back.

You pull him close with a smile and your arms around his neck. He smiles smugly above you, one hand holding your thigh around his waist and the other taking his cock to insert himself into your ass once again.

This time you both can see the way each other's mouth drops and eyes flutter at the feeling of being connected. Yunho leans further down, chest brushing yours as his hips regain a rhythm. There's moaning and kissing and licking into each other as he fucks you until you at last let him know you weren't far from cumming.

At your words, Yunho hoists himself up and moves one of his hands to rub at your clit. Your moans become whinier as your stomach tightens. He stops his assault on your clit before taking two of his fingers and pushing them into your empty cunt. He thrusts quickly matching the pace of his hips, your wetness causing the room to fill the room with lewd sounds. Your breath quickens and you bring your hand to his forearm, desperate to grab at anything.

The pleasure he brings you washes over you like a waterfall and leaves you twitching. You whine as he removes his fingers from your now-soaked cunt and slows the paces of his cock.

Blinking your eyes open you see him smirking down at you, "Does my baby feel good, hm?" He asks deeply and you nod.

"I'm gonna cum soon, do you think you can sit up for me?" He speaks and you agree once more. Yunho moves his hips quickly once again, fucking his cock into your ass once last time until he's groaning and breathing deeply.

"Fuck," he finally breaths and pulls out of you, carefully helping you sit up before he removes the condom from his cock. You look up at him, mouth slightly parted, looking at him with a sultry look, breasts on display for him.

Looking suspiciously like the picture he saw of you in San's magazine.

Yunho jerks himself quickly eyes jumping from your face to your body. "My pretty baby." He says breathlessly, "Gonna cum on you, gonna mark you as mine." He mumbles with a groan before his cum starts to spurt. He aims his cock at your breasts and you move to cup them. Fingers running over your hard nipples causing him to groan further as he finishes on you.

"All yours." You speak to him, keeping eye contact as you swipe a drop of him from your breasts and suck it into your mouth.

"Fuck," his cock twitches as you smirk at him causing his lips to quirk, "You're driving me crazy."

Copyright © 2024 by nczennie. All rights reserved.

🌼 All feedback is appreciated and welcomed 🌼

[robinbuckleyluvr]

⊹˚˖⁺ check you out - robin buckley

masterlist | requests

Summary: goodness! imagine robin buckley accidentally says she was checking you out...

Warnings: she/her pronouns used on reader

Notes: this was lowkey hilarious to write

Word count: 698

⸻⊱༺ 

The door opened, the familiar bell signaling the entrance of yet another customer. Robin barely had a second to look up and catch herself from dropping the VHS tapes she carried as she watched a girl come in. Steve was just as dazzled as Robin, he stumbled out his usual “Welcome to Family Video!” line, and Robin just… stared.

Robin and Steve made eye contact, both exclaiming “Dibs!” at the exact same time. 

“She looks like she would be into more intelligent conversation anyway,” Robin raised her eyebrows.

“Uh, rude?” Steve joked, making his way over to the girl before Robin could even respond, “Guess we’ll just have to find out.”

Robin sighed and crossed her arms, scouring her mind to think of an excuse to hush Steve away from the girl.

“Hey, uh, need any help around here? What are we browsing for today?” Steve flirted as he approached her.

“Just looking, I don’t have anything in mind,” she responded, a lack of interest filled her words, but it was a hint a guy such as Steve wouldn’t really get.

Robin, clearly amused, watched Steve’s desperate commentary, her mind running faster than ever. Okay, Robin, think! He is totally dumb and will fall for anything. You just have to come up with something that he will actually believe.

“Steve!” Robin exclaimed, “Can you please come help me? The computer is totally jammed again!” 

Steve sighed at Robin’s words as he muttered an apology to the girl, who didn’t really seem to mind as she kept on looking around. 

Robin stepped back as Steve approached the computer, and before he knew it, Robin had approached the girl already. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes as he realized the computer was working perfectly, watching Robin hurry away to speak to the girl instead.

“Hey! Hi, do you need any help?” Robin smiled nervously.

The girl offered a kind smile, “Thanks! I’m just unsure of what to get. Just looking for something to watch over the weekend I suppose.”

“Cool cool cool,” Robin breathed out, “Well, are you a rom-com kind of girl? Or do you like sci-fi movies and stuff?”

“Oh gosh…” She laughed, “Not a rom-com girl I don’t think… I avoid watching them alone. It's saddening, I prefer sci-fi for sure. I love horror, does that help?”

“Understandable! I’m the same,” Robin smiled, “But uh… sci-fi and horror! I can work with that.” She spoke shyly as she scanned the ‘horror’ shelf that stood behind the girl. 

The girl stood there quietly next to Robin as she looked around, Steve stood watching them from afar, having his eyes nearly popping out of his skull as he noticed the girl checked Robin out — something Robin, of course, had completely missed. 

“How about…” Robin spoke as she reached over to grab one of the VHS tapes, “‘The Shining’! A total classic. It’s one of my all-time favorite movies. Have you seen it before?”

“Are you joking? I love that movie. Wouldn’t mind re-watching it, I think.”

Robin’s face lit up as the girl accepted her request. “Alright! You’re all set then! I’ll just get you checked out.” Robin paused, flustered, “I mean, I’ll check you out—Not check you out like that, uh, check out your movie! Not that I wouldn’t, you know, check you out. I mean, wait, that’s not, I mean, get your movie checked. You checked. For the movie that you’re renting! Which… yeah — pay there?” She motioned to the counter and walked off, her voice increasingly getting higher with each word.

As she followed Robin to the counter, the girl shook her head slightly, a shy smile forming as she did so. 

[jymwahuwu]

Hello. God has spoken to me personally, and he commanded me to spread the word of promoted Aventurine and humiliated reader going on a business trip to Pentacony and Sunday offers you a new job.

God wants everyone to really think about the possibilities. Your treatment is bad enough in the office, what will Aventurine do to you when he knows there's no witnesses? Your day to day life is now completely in his hands. What embarrassing thing were you forced to do that made Sunday find out about your situation in the first place? How does Aventurine react to Sunday requesting to speak to you in private? Imagine trying to come up with excuses when Aventurine hounds you for information the moment he gets his hands on you again. How does he react to you turning in your two weeks notice, and how painful are those two weeks? What sort of job does Sunday want you to do for him? God nearly came just thinking about all the potential for insane sex.

Anyways, God said you're an excellent writer and remember to take care of yourself because you deserve it <3

-HST

Thank you <3!! I'll have a good rest, watching new videos today, inspiration struck me… He will make your resignation a joke 😽🙈 You think you can get rid of him like this?

(This is about the reader who framed Aventurine and was demoted now!! If you don’t like to read content that humiliates arrogant reader, please skip it!!)

cw: yandere, non-con, abuse of power, humiliation, forced breeding

Aventurine has a spacious office, including glass for gazing at the Milky Way and nebulae, a holographic projector, and advanced computers. In addition to this, to satisfy some fashion needs, he added trinkets such as small fountains and bonsai, as well as jellyfish lamps.

Aventurine takes your humiliation to the next level by sitting on his lap and warming his cock for hours when no one else is around (and inevitably creampies in the end). Takes all your clothes and hides you under his desk when some clients come to visit. When their rudeness attacks the senior manager, the polite smile becomes subtle, and the hands push your head lower, and the cock is pressed against your throat. Your lips were stretched open by that, but you had to hold back that sound, otherwise a longer humiliation would be waiting for you.

Shutter sound!! You glare at the camera in annoyance. If your gaze could burn things, you would have burned a hole in that phone, but your hands are spread out on the ground, like some well-behaved pet. Well, you know the lesson, don't you? There is a penalty for taking your hands off the ground. You growled and scolded him, like "I will make you regret it", "despicable", "I will be promoted again and trample you under my feet…" The cream on your face and the messy hair betrayed you. You're just bluffing. Spanking should teach you a better attitude. Pull you up and spank you. After 10 minutes you learn to shut up from the slaps. It should be you who regrets it, after all. Your current situation could have been avoided if you had not taken pleasure in setting him up and humiliating him before.

Hmm, Aventurine got the notice to go on a business trip to Pentacony. You are now just the lowest level P13. As his current assistant (pet), you must follow him to this planet. You mumbled as you followed him and took care of the boring tasks of serving drinks. Unexpectedly, the leader of the Oak Family asks to speak to you in private. Aventurine glanced at you before pulling away and giving you some space.

According to intelligence, it seems that you are now working for this…Mr. Aventurine? I know he can't offer you any promotion right now. Why not consider joining The Family? We are in need of a senior staff to coordinate our activities.

After Sunday left, Aventurine asked you about the content of the conversation. Your thinking is interrupted. You can accept the offer and leave this humiliating work environment! What company would send you to work for coworkers who hate you after your business plan fails? You smiled proudly and said that you would inform him that you were resigning.

Boom. This is not surprising. He pretends to be annoyed and frustrated, and watches your face become increasingly smug. Oops, same as before, but now you look cute. According to IPC's contract, you still have two weeks to work for him.

You didn't realize at the time how…intense these two weeks would be. Wipe that arrogance off your face again. Your ass is swollen from the paddle spank, bouncing on his cock, glistening with water and cum. You held back the whimper in your teeth ("You…you're so horrible…"). Carry three vibrators with you everywhere, those three straps tied to your thighs. Aventurine adjusts the vibration level freely in the pocket. In front of the passengers, you tremble and clench your legs, trying to stay normal or find a chair to sit down. Pour some fragrant wine down your throat during the kiss. You untie his tie and service his cock with bleary eyes. And creampie. creampie. creampie.

But the belief in resignation sustains you. You know you can overcome and one day regain your dominance!

On the last day, you were humming happily and walking briskly…until Aventurine showed you a warning, proof that you had maliciously damaged company property many times during your work, and you needed to repay this debt. You can't believe that number…it's so exaggerated…you won't be able to pay it back even if you go bankrupt. what is that? Why did he frame you like this?

"I learned something from you." Aventurine declared, holding your shoulders and comforting you softly…you who finally…sobbed loudly. "I guess you will have to work for a long time to pay off this debt. Don't worry, we will face it together."

[nanamis-princess]

Asking them to peel a orange for you: jujitsu kaisen edition

Genre: fluff

Characters: nanami kento, Satoru gojo, geto suguru & Shoko Ieiri x reader

Nanami kento

His laptop is open off to the side of him with the vacation website open, you both are coming to the conclusion of where you’d like to stay on for upcoming vacation. Kento finally is putting his paid time off to good use with the help of you convincing him to do so. “I think the home you looked at before was nice and cozy, not too far from the beach plus it had a nice backyard with that beautiful fire pit” you say imagining what it’d be like as you grabbed an orange from the fruit bowl. Kento’s eyes never leaving the computer screen, subconsciously takes it from your hands and begins peeling it for you before you can protest he sets aside the orange rinds on the coffee table in front of him on a napkin. He hums with his eyes scanning over the information of the cozy vacation home as he peels the orange completely, peeling off the stringy white parts the best he can before handing the orange back to you. Smiling softly you take the orange, eating the little slices as you come around to gently bend over the couch wrapping your arms around him looking over his shoulder. You plant a kiss on his cheek softly, he smiles at your actions as the smell of citrus engulfs his senses. “We can even make s’mores” you suggest picturing the evening with him. “I’ve always wanted to try s’mores” he adds scrolling down the page to book your stay, he’s taken back by your slight gasp “you’ve never had s’mores?!”.

Satoru gojo

With orange in hand you walk into your living room to see your boyfriend laying on the couch relaxing in his sweats on his day off scrolling away on social media. His head peaks up from the screen, his eyes light up when he sees you “there’s the love of my life, come cuddle me I’m cold” he says with open arms. A smile creeps onto your face, you chuckle at his dramatics before crawling on the couch into his arms. You hold up the orange looking up at him “the love of your life would like you to peel this” he looks down at you then the orange. “What do i get from this transaction?” Satoru teases and leans his face closer to you. “A kiss” you roll your eyes as you position yourself to sit in his lap facing him, he nods as he takes the orange from your hand working away to peel the skin off. Within seconds he’s done but he keeps the orange in his hand, “my kiss please” he says with a grin, rolling your eyes you lean forward pressing your lips on his. It lasts for a moment his soft lips on yours before you pull away, he smiles and takes an orange slice before giving it to you. He eats the slice and shakes his head “strawberries are ten times better” he says discarding the orange rinds on the side table next to your couch before looking for his phone. “Look this cat reminds me of you” he says showing you.

Suguru geto

You’d just put the girls down for the night when you come back to the kitchen, geto has two wine glasses on the counter and is working on making a charcuterie board for the two of you. “They enjoyed going to the movies with you today, that was nice of you to take them” he hums placing a kiss on your forehead. “Mhm it was nothing” you say with a smile as you get the wine bottle opener. “Would you be willing to peel that orange for me? i hear it pairs well with red wine” you ask as you look through the cabinet. “Yeah i got it” Suguru’s eyes trace over your figure with a small smile as he begins peeling the orange placing the small slices next to the nuts and dried fruit. you place a kiss on his cheek, geto leans down a little and kisses you softly. Sharing the moment for a second before pulling away you smile lovingly at him, he’s smiling back as you pick up the wine along with the glasses. “See you up there” you wink at him before walking upstairs.

Shoko Ieiri

Making your way down to her office with her lunch and your lunch in hand, you knock on her door softly before opening it when she says come in. Her eyes not tearing away from the paperwork in front of her until she hears your voice “hey beautiful, i brought you lunch” you hum in excitement to see her. She looks up at you with a smile “thank you babe, you didn’t have to do that” she chuckles closing the file in front of her tucking it away for later. “lets go sit outside, i need a smoke break” she stands up putting her coat on and pulling her hair out of the coat. You both are sitting next to each other on a bench after she finishes her cigarette, she opens her water as you turn to her. “Could you peel this for me?” You ask innocently as she looks from your eyes to the orange, taking it from your hands working at it slowly. Picking off the big stringy pieces for you and spitting it in half taking a couple small slices for herself. She hands it back to you then opening her lunch bag, as you eat one of the small slices of the orange “guess what i found out today” she says in a whisper tone. Turning to her ready to hear what she tea she has to tell.

[everand1r]

To the salon!

(Some) Twisted wonderland boys x Barbie (gn) reader.

Reader isn't based off of any specific barbie so I kept it vague. (Gn) No features are mentioned. Some are Platonic and some Romantic but you can view it either way really. These are mostly imagines? Hcs? Crack fic? idk but lemme know if I missed anything. These were pretty fun to do I might do more

Characters: Riddle, Deuce, Epel, Azul, Sebek

Transporting to a new world is something you are used to, you've been on many adventures and have gained many skills and degrees along the way that starting anew isn't a new experience. Although living in a rundown dorm isn't ideal, It just needs a little shaping! You've built stuff before you've got this. Oh but you'll need a new wardrobe too! No way can you wear one outfit all the time! I guess there's no time like the present to put them skills to use!

Riddle

• He thinks your style is cute, and admires how you always look stunning and pristine everyday without fail.

• Although you look a little TOO pristine at times, he gets confused on how you can run a mile in gym and not break a sweat, meanwhile this boy is probably gasping for air. When you explain you were an Olympic track star back in your world he has to try not to side you

• He kinda thinks your lying about your careers and all you've accomplished

• He greatly underestimates your intelligence until you barge into heartslabyul one day in your bright pink suit and a big smile on your face

  "Ace! Deuce!" You yell into the living area, the pair looking up at you from where they were studying. "Prefect, need I remind you of yelling inside?" the red head sighs. "Ah sorry sorry! I'm just so excited I had to come share!" "Is it about your trial today?" Deuce asked. "Trial....?" Riddle mumbles, slightly confused. He had no idea what you lot were talking about, but knowing you it was probably some crazy- "Yes I won my first court case today!" ......What? Court case?

"My Client was wrongfully accused of stealing and I helped them find justice! I'm so glad my skills as a lawyer can help others in this world." You boldy exclaim, chest puffing up. "Tell us all about it." Ace said turning to you fully.

Riddle sat back, tuning you all out. This boy was at a loss for words. You, a Lawyer??? How is that even possible? You're a Freshman... but Riddle recalls the time you set an Olympic World record for figure skating, and the time you hacked into a Government network using nothing but the school library computers. Maybe you being a Lawyer isn't so unrealistic after all.

Deuce

• Deuce always thought you were gorgeous and admirable, not that he would tell you that! He's too embarrassed

• It's kind of obvious though, with the way he never takes his eyes off you as you talk to him, he's got this lovesick gaze on him it makes ace roll his eyes

• Being friends with you from the beginning of the school year, he's used to you and all your skills, you still manage to surprise him from time to time though. Like creating a new life form from the potions in potionology should not be possible and yet here you are...

• Although that's what he admires about you, how you've accomplished so much at a young age. As an aspiring honor student he looks up to you. Admiration that's all it was, nothing more haha...

  When deuce got your message to come over to Ramshackle, he certainly wasn't expecting to see you arguing with a rooster and a big chicken coop in the back of the dorm. When did that even get there? "George please! just get back in the coop, everyone else listened to me!" George clucked at you, clearly not listening. "Ugh we're gonna be here forverer- Oh! Deuce you came!" You grin, diverting your eyes from the big chicken to the boy standing outside the fence. "Well don't just stand there come on in," Snapping out of his daze he goes through the fence and meets up with you. "Is this what you wanted to show me?" He asks. "Yup! I was a chicken farmer back in my world and i've just missed growing my own foods so I decided to start one here,"

You strech your arms out, signaling to the land around Ramshackle. You clasp your hands together with a soft grin on your face "I know how much you like eggs so I thought once my chickens lay some, we could make some egg dishes with it!"

   Admiration??? No no no, this boy was in Love!

Epel

• Before Epel offically met you he had seen you around, kind of hard not to with you being the most stylish person in NRC, you kinda stick out

• Although he only really got a good look at your style once he stayed at Ramshackle for the VDC.

You would come down every morning with a new oufit, hair and makeup done to a tee, he wonders if your closet is just limitless and how you have so many clothes and accessories.

• You blackmailed Crowley

• Ngl he probably thought you were one of those -prim and proper, freaks out at getting dirty- kind of person.... at first

• On the weekends when you don't have to stick around with practice, you would leave in the morning and come back later on and talk about your day at dinner, and you would always say the most insane shit Epel has ever heard in his life

"What do ya mean you discovered a new life species?" Epel glares at you from your vanity mirror. You shrug, continuing your nightly routine. Epel was sat on your bed, listening to you recount what you did today.  "Oh you should've seen it! It was a new bird species with the most gorgeous feather pattern, It took a couple of hours to find them out in the Savanna but it was so worth it." In the Savanna? You didn't look like you went to the Savanna. With your colorful outfit and perfectly manicured nails, and those glossy lips... Ugh! Epel shook his head. Just what is he thinking? But as he looks up at you, fully turned around, he can't help but notice just how stunning you really are.

Azul

• He doesn't really like you so he thinks

• But he's kinda intimidated by you, like most others in the school he underestimates you until he tried to take Ramshackle from you

• He was NOT prepared for you to list off all the shady and bordering on illegal business practices he was doing. How did you figure him out so quickly?? Did you also run a business perhaps?? the answer is yes, you do.

• You don't like his methods and try to talk to all his potential clients as you are fim beilever that if you put your mind to it, you can be anything! No need to sign away your powers or voice. Azul, clearly, does not like this and so there's just this mutual little rivalry between the two of you, although you do respect each other to some degree

Azul could feel his eye twitch, he has been going back and forth with you on this matter he's starting to falter. You two currently sat in the VIP room of the Mostro lounge. He's been trying to get you to sign this damn contract so he can take up your dorm. You, on the other hand are stubborn and refuse to give up the dorm you spent so much time renovating! He's beginning to wonder if it's even worth it at this point, maybe he can extend his business elsewhere... No! He's gotten this far he's not about to back down, but as he glances at you with your arms crossed and cute pout on your face, grim sitting next to you mimicking your stance... Azul feels as if he's gonna be here all night.

Sebek

• He didn't really think much of you for a while

• Sebek had more important things to worry about which is why he didn't pay attention to you until you pop out from behind Coach Vargas at Vargas camp, donning a military uniform and little yellow visor glasses, exclaiming how your gonna be the one in charge to whip up all those boys into shape.

• Sebek always thought he was prepared for any physical activity, after all he is a bodyguard in training.

• So imagine his surprise when your god forsaken training regimen has him fighting for air! HIM! The bodyguard to a prince! He never thought he would hate the sound of a whistle but by the seven can you stop blowing that damn thing?!?!

• Oh he needs a break...

  Sebek sat near the river, reflecting on the events of today when the sound of footsteps from behind bring him out of his thoughts. "There you are Sebek!" you exclaim, stopping right next to him. "I've been looking for you, gosh you are hard to find," He raises an eyebrow, "Looking for me?" He repeats. "Mhm! I wanted to ask you about today, Many of the other students struggled to keep up, but you were way ahead of the rest. I was curious about what you do that keeps you so fit." The half fae smirks, his already massive ego growing even more at your little observation. No way was he gonna let you know that even he had a bit of trouble with your hellish training.

"Well if you must know, I am a royal bodyguard and I must be physically fit if I am to protect my Liege." Your mouth gapes a little, "A royal bodyguard?? Wow no wonder you were able to keep up! The workouts I planned today were easier verions of the ones I gave back in my world, I wonder if I should make them even easier." You sigh, "Being a military commander isn't easy work." You nodded to yourself, currently lost in your own little world as you think of different workouts to give.

Huh???   Military commander?!

[akascow]

okay so

i think the viktor and mel hallucinations during jayce's whole Moment in 2x07, their eyes are just completely black. and its VERY faint but u can KIND OF see the outline of their irises if u look REALLY close (irl)

to show u what i mean:

first ones are just normal settings (tho my computer brightness is all the way up), i only messed with the exposure n highlights of the pictures and stuff in the middle ones, and outlined the eyes in the third ones

​which could make sense in terms of his mental state i think ? he maybe feels like he let them down, or betrayed them or couldnt help them in a way ??

they dont feel human to him anymore. or maybe hes created these images so theyre judging him as he can only reminisce on what happened and how he left things

mel’s vision looks maybe like either angry, stubborn, strong willed or annoyed lol... her chin is kinda turned down, with downturned eyebrows, and her lower lids are halfway closed implying that shes like glaring or narrowing her eyes at him, her lips almost look pursed together and i think ? her nostrils are flared but its so hard to tell lmao we only get like three frames of over exposure HAAH take these with a grain of salt lmfao

viktor (even tho i cannot for the life of me read his expression HAHA) to the best of my ability i think kinda looks hurt or confused, maybe innocent for lack of a better term or scared. ((which given how he left jayce it would kinda fit lmao)) BUT his brows are ever so slightly scrunched together, one is higher than the other which usually implies confusion or thinking or admiring. eyes are wide open, mouth is agape a teenie bit, these are usually seen with softer, positive or more admirable expressions, and his chin is tilted upward. im not trying to turn this into a jayvik thing i swear im just comparing to my facial recognition knowledge HAHA

and as he loses himself deeper in the hexcore, the more he starts losing and/or fearing the two ppl he loved most ? ... and worries how he’d get back to them (if at all) and how he would imagine they would react.

the two ppl who not only made and brought him to who he is today, but uplifted and supported and stood by him for ~10 years despite everything

anyway this theory would all pair nicely with the voices that start playing in the background during his lil Montage lmao it kind of culminates into a massive guilty conscious, that then outwardly presents itself in their hallucinations:

“i never asked for this” - jayce to viktor, after their conversation about him breaking their promise about destroying the hexcore, resulting in vik leaving him lmao. also jayce literally turned viktor into this metal husk so hes gotta have that sitting on his shoulders too lmfao

“[heimer] was my mentor, and i betrayed him” - jayce (to mel) abt voting heimer off the council despite heimer ending up being completely right about magic in the first place

“it corrupts” “you must destroy it” “ive seen nations destroyed” - heimer about the hexcore, jayce screams over this as those lines play, anguishing over the fact that he literally did this to himself and hes the reason Piltover is (or will be) no more bc he ignored the warnings

“its your time now jayce” “perhaps its time for the era of magic” - mel to jayce, context is in the quotes HAHA. jayce is screaming no! no! and please! during these lines, i think its just to hammer (pun intended) home on the fact that it all ties back to him for ‘creating’ magic. its on HIM (at least in his own mind) for the destruction of Piltover and all of its people

not to mention the reason hes stuck down there for so long is because his own invention (hextech hammer) disabled him enough to make him unable to climb out for (as far as we know) weeks or even months... more outward projection of self guilt, but like far more literal than symbolic i guess

and as other people mentioned already, it put him in the same position of viktor (down in the depths of zaun having to pull himself up to piltover with the challenges of a disabled leg and illness and no one to support or help him) which allowed him to relate to viktor in a way he never could have before

maybe im just thinking too hard about it idk (im not). or unless this was extremely obvious to the average viewer HAHA. in my defense i spent this whole montage pausing every .6 seconds to take a picture of seggsy and broken and whimpering jayce so i wasnt really paying that much attention to it all AHAHA

anyway do u think this was a hallucination or was it actually the mage standing here with him for a flash lmao

okay sorry for that long ass post i would add a page break sooner but it would interrupt my flow of thoughts that i need u all to experience like i do HA

...

also shameless self promos but u should check out my jayvik butterfly effect and viktors humanity symbolism analysis posts if u liked this one >:)

[willowser]

i had to call the awful evil witch from tech support at my job today, and it had me thinking about getting the little error message and feeling your heart sink and you lean over to your coworker to whine,

"i have to call and get an override,"

and she snorts because she knows what that means, and despite what she says—there is an evil little gleam in her eye. "maybe midoriya will pick up."

you throw your head back dramatically, letting it hang over the chair until you feel the blood rushing to your ears. "i never get midoriya! what menu options are you choosing to get him, because it's never him for me!"

your coworker shrugs, turning from her computer again to smirk at you. "i don't know, man, it's just whoever picks up."

you stare at the window box in the center of your computer, the red ! at the front of a set of codes you loathe to see. hard as you try to find hope that you'll get lucky and izuku will pick up the phone—you don't think it's likely.

"will you call for me?"

"oh my god, just do it already."

and that's how you end up biting at your thumbnail, staring down at the phone on your desk as the automated voice greets you—happily—and begins to list out the different menu options. you consider choosing something random, to see if that will get you to a different, nicer member of the support team, but you wait too long and the options repeat and you decide to just bite the bullet.

it only rings for a moment before you get,

"task solutions. 's'bakugou."

you roll your eyes up to the ceiling and back and snap to stare at your coworker, mouthing a soundless 'fuck!' as she bursts into a fit of laughter.

"y'got five seconds before i hang up the—"

"sorry, hi, sorry! hi! i'm here!" you muster up all the kindness you can, smiling politely so that it will transfer in your voice. "i just need an override, please."

there's not much he says that he doesn't have to, only grunting in acknowledgement when you give him your name and employee id, read off the error message that brought you into the lion's den.

the support team for your company works off-site, so you've never met him. bakugou. hardly know anything about him outside of the name he barks out when answering the phone, and you don't think you'd like to, really.

it's incredibly frustrating to have to call him for help because he knows the system better than you do, knows your job better than you do—and is quick to call it out when your math is wrong or your input is off. if validation didn't fail every once in a while when the program is overloaded you'd be fine—but here you are.

a tense silence fills between the phone as he works, and you know he can only log in and see your screen but it feels like he's watching you, entirely. to be polite, you ask, "are you, uh, goin' to conference this year?"

the silence becomes a void, all consuming, before he murmurs out a sharp, "no."

"oh, bummer," you chuckle nervously, sweat building on the back of your neck as you watch his mouse click around on your screen. "are midoriya and iida going?"

bakugou sighs, heavy with frustration. "probably," he answers, though, to your surprise. "they like to sit around and do fuck—nothin' all day at the damn booth."

you've been by the task solutions booth every year at conference, mostly because they hand out nice steel cups with metal straws, but the faces you've seen there are never unfamiliar. for a moment, you try to imagine it: walking up to get your free goodie from some sour asshole, only to have him bark at you as you try to reach for it.

the mouse stops in the bottom corner of your screen, hesitating. you hold your breath. this is usually when he chastises you for something he makes sound so simple.

"you goin'?"

"uh," your mouth hangs open for a second, because this is the most you've ever spoken to him that didn't involve scolding of some kind. "yeah, yeah! our team will be there for day 2!" there's a soft hum from the other end, and you see the opportunity for what it is: a chance to get on good terms with this guy, so you can stop being so afraid to call the help desk. "you should go! i don't—i don't think we've ever met before."

it's hard to tell how he takes that, but you only assume not well considering your screen flashes as he logs off, taking the error message with him.

"uh, yeah, whatever," he grumbles, "is there—you need anythin' else?"

"oh, nope! that's it, thanks!"

"alright," the line doesn't disconnect immediately and you curl into yourself, as if you could hear anything else by pressing the phone harder to your ear. then he says, "later." and is gone.

[weebsinstash]

Really like the idea of a yandere Vox who is so ride or die for his overconsumerist capitalist Musk-esque lifestyle UNTIL he sees it negatively affecting his darling and does a complete 180

like take that poly red string soulmate Vox x Reader x Alastor concept and, you've got Alastor KINDA warming up to technology and willing to watch TV and do other things with you but he's still not a fan of you being on your phone constantly and some of the video games and movies you consume. He's on the couch reading a paper and (affectionately) rolling his eyes as you and Vox take turns headshotting each other in a video game and hollering "hell yeah, suck my fucking dick!!"

Meanwhile Vox is just 200% chronically online and loving it until one day he asks you why you wear baggy clothes all the time and you're ever so casually replying "because my body is fucking icky, duh" and Vox has absolutely no idea what you're talking about until you break down on a tangent about it

I was watching a clip the other day where someone was pointing out that Marilyn Monroe was considered the 50s icon of beauty and there are plenty of photos with her with thick thighs or a visible belly pooch and, imagine Vox sitting there, the disbelieving 'are you joking?' smile falling off of his face as you just, go OFF, "why would I wear anything other than sweatpants? I have fucking CELLULITE VOX, I'll NEVER have leggings legs no matter how thin I am, and look at my hip dips, they're so fucking GROSS, and my butt isn't shaped right, I have banana rolls, and, do I have siren eyes or doe eyes?! Am I bunny cute or am I frog cute?! And look at how bad my facial balancing is! Ugh, where's my gua sha?! I'm so tired of being UGLY!!"

Later that week Alastor is looking up from his paper to see Vox just, slowly entering the room, sloooooowly shutting the door behind him, looking to his old friend, "so hey! Funny idea, stop me if you've heard this one before but, I was thinking we could uh, maybe take their phone away annnnnnnnnnd... not give it back?" and here's Alastor, "oh, funny story! So earlier today they asked me if I 'wouldn't like them anymore' if they got COSMETIC SURGERY, yeah, ON THEIR FACE BELIEVE IT OR NOT, so, naturally, I'm already one step ahead of you :)" as he just casually gestures to the smashed wifi router in the garbage can in the corner of the room

You just get home from work one day and Vox has his CRT head back on and you're told 'if you want to look something up online, you can use the desktop in the computer room, and only 3 hours of screen time' and it all but blasts you 15 years into the past 💀 no more nights where you're gaming for 5+ hours straight and ruining your sleep. No more skipping meals because you're hyperfocused and binge-watching an anime while also playing an idle game on your phone. No more Alastor and Vox finding out you're just smoking bowls for hours literally nonstop because you need some sort of extra stimulation while you doomscroll and watch 3 hour long roast reviews for shows you've never watched

Alastor catches you swiping through an app and you get a divisive video thrown in your face from some alpha dude bro podcast, "yeah, a real man knows how to protect his lady! She should be at home cooking and keeping the house clean, not running around like a tramp and doing dumb chick stuff! All women need to focus on is marriage and being good wives, you know, a TRADITIONAL relationship!" and Alastor is just, swiping that shit out of your hand, "he DOES have a bit of a point, repulsive as he is! I suppose I'll have to start looking at potential dwellings that can fit you, me, and, I SUPPOSE Vox too 🙄" and little do you know he's already got a cute little home in the 'burbs set up already. He's just... you know! Waiting for the right moment to let you and the annoying TV bastard know that you'll be moving! Maybe he'll just... wait until the day of! Nothing beats a fun surprise, right? ^^ he doesn't want either of you... trying to run away or anything after all haha!

[archangeldyke-all]

I just saw this art and had some CEO Sevika Thoughts 😵‍💫😵‍💫

https://twitter.com/2400db/status/1777950953817207073

O. M. G. i'm combining this with another ask i got because these two reqs go together like peanutbutter and jelly. EEEK! (also, the link doesnt seem to work now, but it was art of two characters-- i'm not sure who-- where one was sitting in a spinny wheel office chair, back to her computer set up, and the other was straddling her, trying to talk on the phone while the first girl is feeling her up)

the last tidbit in your vacay sex w ceo sev hcs inspired me. could we please get something soft with high!sev after both her and r have smoked?

i like to imagine her hair in a bun with a hoodie and sweatpants on. just looking so pretty and soft and staring at reader like :]

i also like to think she likes skin to skin. :3

🌕

men and minors dni

from time to time, you and sevika work from home.

her penthouse has three bedrooms. one for the two of you, one for guests, and one you've turned into a little study for the both of you for times like this.

two desks on opposite walls, a few bookshelves, a couch, it's a good space. it's helped a lot over the years. when sevika's sick, you manage to convince her to just spend the day in her study instead of torturing herself by dragging herself to work. when the two of you are feeling burnt out, a day taking calls and video meetings at home always help.

and today, you're using it for the best reason of all. it's a snow day.

the city below sevika's windows is covered in a blanket of snow. you've been watching the white powder fall all day. sometimes the blizzard rages so hard, that all the windows in sevika's high rise are greyed-out, and it's like you guys are living inside of a cloud.

sevika has no meetings today. you don't either. so, in an effort to stay cozy, you both decided to stay in your pajamas. sevika looks so snugly in her big sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. her feet are socked in mis-matched animal print socks, one cats, one ducks. her hair's in a messy bun, and she's still got a bit of sand in her eye even though it's almost lunch. you love her like this.

it's been a slow day. with the whole city trapped inside, the usual twenty calls an hour you're used to answering has dwindled down to two.

at lunch, sevika manages to convince you to smoke a joint with her.

"c'mon babe." she whines, kissing up your neck as you stir the tomato soup heating up on the stove. "no one's gonna need us today. and we're already so cozy, 'n we got nowhere to go..." she wiggles the fat joint she'd rolled in your face. you huff and roll your eyes.

"i need to talk to HR." you grunt, snatching the joint out of her hand and shoving the bubbling pot of soup to the side. "my boss is peer pressuring me to do drugs with her." you tease, quickly lighting the tip of the joint against the burner before putting the soup back. sevika snatches it from you before you can take a puff, running out to the balcony. "sevika!" you squeal as she throws sliding door open. "you're gonna freeze your ass off!" you laugh.

"come here!" she demands, waving you over. you giggle, turning the burner off and running after your wife, grabbing two blankets off the couch as you go.

the balcony is spacious and covered, but with the wind this high up, there's only four inches of space that hasn't been covered in snow. you and sevika squeeze together in the shelter, shivering and huddling under the blankets as the blizzard rages around you.

"you're insane!" you laugh, sevika pulls you closer to her chest, puts the joint, somehow still alight, between your lips.

"puff." she says. you forget the cold for a moment-- the demand sending a shock of arousal down your spine. you take a hit, keeping eye contact with her, and she grins, before pulling the joint away and pressing her mouth against yours.

you exhale, and sevika inhales the smoke from your lungs before she shoves her tongue down your throat.

she pulls away with a smirk. you gulp. "there. warmer?" she asks, putting the joint to her lips as she smirks down at you. you huff, then stick one of your freezing cold hands under her sweater, pawing at her nipple. she squeaks, you giggle at how quickly her nipple gets hard in your fingers.

you guys smoke the joint fast, after that, faster than you probably should've smoked a joint that big. but it was so cold, and the only relief was the warmth from the joint, and you couldn't really feel the high out in the cold...

which means that once you guys get inside, giggling and shaking the snow off your blankets and out of your hair as you quickly warm up, you're both hit with a very sudden, very intense high.

you know you're fucked when it starts to feel like you're underwater. you know sevika's fucked when you look up from your feet where you're struggling to get out of your slippers, and find her giggling at a dick she'd drawn in the frost on the glass wall of the living room.

"sev." you whisper, grinning. she looks over at you, her smile growing impossibly wider when she sees you. you can practically see hearts in her eyes, and you snort. "oh shit." you laugh.

"we still got work." she giggles. you bite your lip.

"fuck." you chuckle.

"ooooh babe! food!" she says suddenly, grabbing your hand and dragging you to the kitchen.

logically, you know that it only takes about ten minutes to make two grilled cheeses and heat up some soup. but it feels like it takes a year.

you keep turning the burners off by instinct-- and sevika has to laugh and turn them back on, reminding you that you're cooking lunch.

she keeps trying to 'season' the food-- which is concerning for a number of reasons. one being that sevika's a horrible cook, who doesn't know the difference between a teaspoon and tablespoon; two, being that she's holding the cinnamon sugar while she says it. the third, most concerning thing is that you're tempted to let her. cinnamon grilled cheese? your high, munchie focused mind thinks, that could work...

eventually, the food is finished, without modification. sevika has to smack your hands twice to remind you to wait for it to cool off. you have to smack hers once.

you guys eat, curled up together on the couch in your study. it could be the weed, but you think it may genuinely be the best grilled cheese of your life.

sevika seems to agree. she keeps moaning and grunting as she chews and slurps her soup.

it should gross you out. she's too high to mind her manners and chew with her mouth closed. really though, it's just turning you on.

she looks up at you, her cheeks stuffed with grilled cheeses, tomato soup dripping down her chin onto her lap, and you bite your lip. she chews, swallows, then speaks. "you wan' som'a mine?" she offers.

your heart leaps in your chest and you surge forward, pressing your mouth against sevika's. she groans, her hands flailing, and she clumsily puts her dishes on the little coffee table. the second she's free, you straddle her lap, clawing at her shoulders, pinning her to the couch. she pulls you down to grind against her, sinking her nails into your hips. you shudder.

you aren't wearing anything under your pajama pants, and you know sevika isn't either. it's just two thin pieces of flannel separating you. for a moment, the dry fabric adds a delicious friction to your movements--but you soak through your and sevika's pants in less than a minute.

and, fuck, you feel like you're in heaven. you feel like you're melting into sevika, it feels like her fingers are made of magic, the sweet grunts and whimpers she's letting out sound like music.

she's like putty in your hands too, chasing you when you pull back, whining when you pull away to breathe. you giggle, smiling down at her and tucking her flyaways behind her ears, she sighs, nuzzling against your palm, and you lean down to kiss her forehead.

"love you." you whisper. she smiles.

"i love you too." she says. you watch in fascination as she licks her lips slowly, looking you up and down. "so... y' gonna ride me now or what?" she asks, grinning and waggling her eyebrows at you.

you burst into a fit of giggles, and sevika grins, nuzzling against your neck and sucking hickeys into your throat. "mmm... okay." you agree. you can feel her lips curl into a smile against your neck, her fingers tugging the drawstring on your pajamas undone.

suddenly, your work-phone starts ringing on your desk. you and sevika both turn around to glare at the sound, and you groan when you realize what it is. sevika makes a choked sound. "n-no--" she manages to whine before you pull yourself off her lap and start walking over to your desk.

sevika squawks, and then in a flash, she sprints over and squeezes between you and your desk chair, flopping into it and tripping you on the way. you squeak, but sevika catches you around your waist, pulling you onto the chair, and her lap, in a straddle. you huff, glaring down at her, and she grins.

"answer the phone." she demands, just like earlier on the balcony. you shiver, and she grins, tugging your pants down over your ass as you bend over her and grab the phone off your desk, pressing it to your ear

"hello?" you choke out. sevika chokes on a laugh, smacks your ass, and you flail, squeaking and smacking her shoulder as you do.

the voice on the other line-- somewhat familiar, a recent client's assistant or something-- asks to speak to sevika. sevika, the exact moment the voice says her name, sinks her teeth into your neck while her fingers start to circle your clit.

"ah-huh-wh-sheeee's, uh, she's not available right now." you say, cringing. sevika's free hand tugs your sweater up, and you smack her forehead-- already knowing what she's planning.

the voice on the phone babbles on and on-- you're not sure about what, you're distracted by the cocky smile she shoots you before ducking in and taking your breast into her mouth. you moan, a horrible, very audible "aaah!" right into your phone.

sevika grins like the devil.

"sorry, s-sorry--there's a bug!" you choke out before the person on the phone can ask you any questions.

oh that's okay. the voice says. i'm the same way, especially about roaches. ew. anyways, as i was saying...

sevika shoves three fingers past your lips and down your throat, you gasp, sputter, and choke, and sevika pulls her fingers free just in time for you to mutter a "sorry, continue," down the line, before shoving her fingers back in your mouth.

it's possibly the hottest thing that's ever happened to you. she keeps thrusting her fingers in and out of your mouth, tiny clicking wet noises escaping with every thrust of her fingers as drool starts to drip down her wrist and your chin.

you try to keep your moans to a minimum. you don't succeed very well.

"you like this?" she whispers. you nod, your eyes closed, tears soaking your cheeks as she continues to fuck your throat with her fingers.

she giggles, then pulls her hand away.

you gasp, your eyes flying open for you to glare at your wife. she just darts forward and gives you a quick kiss, and then she sinks one of her drool-covered fingers inside of you.

you bite your tongue to keep from whining. she kisses a path to your tit, gives it a few nips, then bites your unkissed nipple as she sinks a second finger in your cunt.

"uhhhn, fu--she actually just walked in--here she is--" you spit out before pulling the phone away from your mouth, letting out a long whine, and pushing the phone into sevika's ear. she glares at you, pulling her mouth away from your tits with a pop that you're certain whoever's calling can hear.

"hullo?" she grunts, pressing the phone between her shoulder and ear, freeing her hand to fondle pull her pants down as she sinks her third finger inside of you. your thighs quake, her cock springs free, and you moan.

"fuck, sev, please."

she grins, gives your cunt a few more good thrusts with her fingers, before pulling them out and spitting in the palm of her hand, giving her cock a few quick pumps, and then lining it up to your cunt.

it's your turn to get your revenge. sevika always needs a second to adjust before she can sink all the way inside you-- overwhelmed by the squeeze and warmth-- but today you don't allow it.

you sink down on her in one swift movement, grinning at the pathetic, "hhhhaa--" it draws out of her. you're so fucking lucky whoever's on the phone is a chatterbox.

you start bouncing on her cock, your ass smacking her thighs with each go, and sevika's got the most pained, pathetic look on her face as she bites her lip to keep her moans in.

you chuckle. "you're lucky you're cute." you whisper, before pulling your shirt off and shifting so sevika can muffle her moans in your tits, one of your hands tangled in her bun, at the base of her neck.

you tug the phone out of her hand, taking a deep breath and collecting yourself in a true show of your strength and professionalism-- and steadily, (not at all breathy, no matter no much sevika will pretend otherwise) say: "i'm so sorry to have to cut our conversation short, but it seems the blizzard's just knocked the power at our facilities out, and we have to go handle that before our heat goes next. we'll be sure to call you back as soon as possible."

oh, well i'm so sorry to hear that! i hope all your employees are safe! i must say, i thought people were being dramatic about the snow, but it must be awful bad where you are if-- you hang up.

"fuck!" you shout, throwing the phone back down on your desk. sevika growls against your tits, and it a second, shes standing, keeping you on her cock with a solid grip on your ass.

she drops you on the couch, not losing her rhythm for a moment as she balances on top of you. eventually, she has to breathe, and she pulls away from your tits with a gasp. "i fucking love you." she whimpers. you giggle.

"i love y-you too, sev." you whisper.

"louder, baby, nobody's listenin' anymore." she demands. you whimper, clenching around her cock, and she chuckles, one of her hands darting down to rub at your clit.

"s-sevika! baby, i love you, i love you!" you gasp. she grins.

"there you go."

"i love you, please, i'm so close you're gonna-- i'm gonna-- sev, i just-- you--"

"whaddya need baby? anything, anything."

"kiss?" you whimper.

sevika cums at the word, her eyes rolling back in her skull and her arms shaking as she tries to keep her pace. it's so hot, and you're so close, and she keeps fucking you even as her cum starts to leak out of you--

and then she tears her eyes open, gasps, and smashes her mouth against yours.

you fall apart, cumming and clencing sevika's sensitive cock hard. so hard, in fact, "oh, b-baby, i!" sevika collapses against you, her cock pulsing inside of you a few more times, and you gasp.

the moment you catch your breath, you burst into giggles.

"did you just cum again?" you ask. "twice in one minute, sev?!"

"fffuck offff." she mumbles against your tits.

"that.. was so hot." you say. she giggles now too.

"g'night."

"sevika." you tug her bun. "it's the middle of the day."

"i'm done. g'night."

"c'mon." you pout, gently tapping her cheek, trying to get her to open her eyes. "we'll have a warm shower and i'll make hot chocolate? with whiskey? we'll turn the phones off, okay? cuddle in bed a bit?" you bribe. she peeks one eye open.

"can i eat you out in bed?" she asks. you snort.

"i was thinking bed would be more like a nap, babe."

"mmm. can i eat you out in the shower?"

"you can eat me out after our nap."

"can i wake you up with it?" she asks, a sparkle in her eye. you roll your eyes.

"only if you actually let me sleep. and you try to sleep too, okay?" you ask. she nods. "one hour, at least." you demand. she pouts, but nods again, and you burst into laughter. "kiss." you voice your final demand. sevika grins, and leans in happily.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[admirationandromantics]

Computer Assembling

The photo mentioned is the first one on the three-photo preview on the top. Fucking hell. I swear to god, you guys are going to be the death of me when writing cause ugh, this just flew and flew and flew! I don't have time to write like this, but can't help it when you make the exact scenarios I've been imagining myself. Holy shit, well, read the request and you'll get a good idea of what's about to happen. Ps, added some lovely smut in this, so enjoy <3

Word count: 2,4k (Unedited)

h a i . . . :3 sent u a photo in your inbox to go along with this little request/thot thinking about Chris lowkey being into building computers and he's wearing THAT outfit i sent you and his build looks like that too and maybe the relationship is like you guys are hanging out for maybe the 4-5th time ever and you're just sitting there staring and drooling and not being subtle at all and he's just stuttering and trying not to literally fuck you right then and there while you two are in his room while he builds his new pc build.. oh my god.. i really need nerdy, beefy chris today and your writing always fuels me 🫶😇 -@nerd-space

I can’t help staring at his arms, his sweater rolled up over them, making the lower half partially visible. I wonder what’s underneath the rest of it…

“Can you hand me that star-formed screw?” he asks, reaching out his hand for me to give him. I look around the floor, different bags of screws, corks, plastic and tools. I take some screws with crosses and hand them to him. He takes a quick look to see that they’re correct, before starting to spin them into the metal. I watch intently, his fingers working their magic, no detail too small. Being precise and delicate as he keeps going. Veins forming on his hands as he tightens the screws. 

He shifts, noticing my stare. I can’t control it, therefore I have to force my hand upwards, closing my mouth and turning my head. I bet he’d kick me out for the nasty thoughts I’m having. 

“So” he starts, coughing a little. “Think we can get this done in one night?” 

“I know something we can” 

“What?” 

Shit, I said that out loud. I stutter, trying to find something remotely similar which doesn’t sound as suggestive. 

“I know we can” I quickly rescue myself, and he gives a silent nod, dragging the metalwork on his lap, hiding the view I’m so shamelessly taking advantage of. I sigh, turning back to the equipment. We weren’t far away now, just one board and a little assembling left. I enjoy watching it, not just because of him, but because it looks just like lego. I bet if I bought a set, he’d build it with me. Another reason to watch his hands work, his muscles tense and veins popping. 

His room is cozy. Blinds are open, but the outside is dark. It’s nighttime after all. A lot can still happen before dawn. His walls are full of posters and pictures, his old gaming setup on the desk, as well as a semi-large bed. Around a queen-size one. I take another breath, thighs pressing together to stop my thoughts from wandering. 

“Are you feeling alright?” he asks, cheeks a bit flushed. Is it hot in here? 

“Um, yeah. Just you know”

“What?” 

“Nothing, I’ve just never been in your room before” 

“First time for everything, right?” He laughs a little, and I smile. His hand wanders up to his face, rearranging his glasses, pushing them back. God, if he only took them off, if he did and threw that piece of machinery on the floor and just took me hard right now on the-

“But yeah, none of the others have been here yet” he explains, waving to the room. I nod, looking around once again. The urge to look through his stuff is exhausting. I can’t help myself. 

“Mind if I check your drawers?” I ask, already standing up. He smiles, nodding along and holds his hand out. 

“Be my guest” 

I firstly walk to his desk, opening the first drawer and being met with a couple of game cards, coins and some paper and pens. All of them seem to be minecraft coordinates, remembering where different structures are and other people’s bases. 

“Didn’t take you for a Minecraft sweat–gamer” I joke, looking through the notes. 

“Well, when you’re playing with Josh, you kinda have to” 

“I see” 

I move to the other drawer, bending forward a little since it’s lower. Maybe a bit on purpose? He won’t notice either way. This one is full of candy wrappers, every colour just laying there. I dig through it, finding a small notebook on the bottom. 

“You know there’s something called a garbage bin?” 

“And you know there’s something called privacy?” 

“You said it was fine!” 

“Yeah, yeah” 

I open the book, seeing a couple of old drawings and doodles. Some of them are only scribbles. On one page is Ashley’s name, and my heart falls a bit. This was three years ago. It still doesn’t matter, we all know how down bad he was for her. I sigh silently, closing the book and putting it back. 

I figure that’s it, I’ll stop snooping now. I turn around, seeing him on the chair, screws still in hand as he works intently. I sit down on the bed, right over him, watching as he tightens them, arm flexing in the process. The curvature of his muscles as they reach all the way back behind his sweater. 

Jeez, I need to stop myself, I sound desperate. Desperately horny to be honest, but who wouldn’t be? He’s sitting there, with his arms bare, working his magic right beside me. Glasses on, pants unfortunately on, muscles tensing and a sweet blush on his face. His adorable glasses and messy hair. He said he got out of the shower right before I came. I feel hot, and it’s definitely not okay. What if he still likes Ashley? What if he sees me as just a friend, nothing more? I don’t want to ruin this. 

“Um, y-you’re turning quite red, are you alright?” he suddenly says, a worried look in his eyes as he looks down at me. I pull myself from my trance, chest heaving as I try to steady my pulse- 

“Yeah, I’m fine, just thinking” 

“About what?” He watches as my eyes linger over his arms once again, breathing getting uneven and my thighs pressing together. I have no shame, damnit. 

“Y-you know” 

“Care to elaborate on that?” He laughs a little, gazing over, taking in every inch of me. Am I that obvious? Was this top way too low-cut, because I’ve seen him staring a couple of times. 

“About why you’re staring down my chest” I blurt out, being too forward. Shit. His face gets completely red, hands working in a rush as his attention goes back to the project. He sighs, head leaning back as he collects himself. 

“You can’t expect me not to look when you’re dressed like that” 

“Hartley, are you calling me easy?” 

“Hey, I’ve seen how you’ve looked at me for the last hours” 

The room turns silent, my mouth open to say something back, but I don’t manage. He’s stopped working on the computer, arms stiff and eyes shocked, as if he can’t believe he caught me. Shit, he actually caught me. I’ve been so careful, at least as much as I could. We both stare at one another, and I feel my pulse go up again, heart beating faster and breathing quickening. Fucking hell, why is he staring at me like this? I look him up and down, the computer still being in his lap. 

“I-I um” I start, but can’t finish. A small smile creeps up on his lips as his attention goes back to the project as if nothing happened. I look up confused, wondering what just happened. 

“If my bare arms has that effect on you, you could’ve just told me” he laughs a bit, fastening the frame. 

“What, no, that’s not-”

“I mean, I can take off the whole thing if that’d make you pay attention, but I think it wouldn’t work” 

“Hey, I wasn’t-”

“But you can sit there drooling over my fucking fingers without me thinking about how you’d handle it” 

“What, handle what?” 

He puts the tools down, moving the computer off his lap and walking over. Just then, I notice his large bulge underneath his pants. The thought alone makes my face blush, all the ways I’ve imagined him coming back to haunt me. 

He leans over, and before I can process what’s happening, his lips are on mine, arms on either side of me on the bed. I melt into it, hands going up around his neck, pulling him closer. I lean down, dragging him with and letting him tower over me, even if we’re laying horizontally. His fingers move to grope my thigh, roughly kneading as he bites my lips. I can’t help the moan that escapes my cords, getting swallowed by him as he moves lower and looks up at me. 

“You really can’t keep testing my limits like this”

“What if I do?” 

“Then I can’t be held responsible for what I do next” 

“And what’ll that be?” 

“You’re about to find out” 

His lips leave kisses and bites all over my neck, sucking until he finds the spot making me scream. His hand immediately goes to cover my mouth, smiling as he stops for a bit. 

“Thin walls, I’ve got neighbours, contain yourself”

“Easy for you to say” 

“Do you know how much I’ve wanted to fuck the life out of you for the last few hours?” 

“N-no” I stammer, his hands moving under my shirt, groping my breasts. 

“So much I already had a trip to the bathroom, and you got me all going again as I came back” 

“So, you’ve already tried to take care of yourself” 

“You make it difficult” he smirks, dragging my top off. 

“Well, we have to do something about that” 

“You bet I am” 

He takes hold of my already unbuttoned pants, dragging them off with ease, and watching in hunger as my breast jiggles from the movement. I gasp at the cold air, feeling it especially on my soaked panties. He doesn’t waste time, unbuttoning his pants and dragging off the white, thin sweater, letting me see his muscular build. I reach up to him, feeling every curve of each muscle until he gets impatient and throws me down on the sheets. 

“Again, we’re not testing my limits tonight, they’ve already been crossed” 

I snicker, feeling him cage me with his arms as he kisses my lips. I carefully take off his glasses, placing them on the nightstand. His face is flushed, chest heaving as he breathes, but I don’t blame him. I probably look worse. He kisses down my stomach, stopping by my thighs to suck them dry. I moan loudly, forgetting about the walls and neighbours. They would have to deal with it. He leaves red and blue marks all over, several times causing me to slam my legs shut. He doesn’t get hurt though, his big strong arms keeping them apart easily before moving to my heat. His fingers trace over the wet fabric, and he hums to himself when feeling it. When feeling me. I whine from the tender contact, the touch too weak to do anything about my craving. He stands up, taking fully off his pants and boxers. I do the same, wanting him so incredibly bad, right now. I’ve waited for him long enough. I pull off my panties, unhooking my bra and throwing it off. He stands there mesmerized by the sight, but I don’t let him take it in. 

“Gaze while we fuck, I need you now” I whisper, taking his hand and dragging him over me again. 

“As you wish ma’am” 

He leans over me, letting his length coat itself in my juices. I’m so ready for him, even though I didn’t get the time to see how big he is, I need him right now inside me. 

“Are you sure you can take it?” he whispers teasingly, making my tension build up. 

“Chris, I swear to god I’ll do it myself if you don’t-”

I give a loud moan as he pushes himself completely in, filling me too much, way over the brim. He gropes my thigh, lifting my leg to get him even further, almost reaching my cervix. I whine, the pain and pleasure merging together and starting to build in my stomach. 

“You know, there’s something so satisfying about shutting you up” 

“So this is how confident and cocky you get when you understand that someone likes you?” 

“Maybe”

“Do I need to remind you of the time you saw me in that short skirt-”

I moan loudly again as he pushes out and completely in again. That time, his face was flustered the whole night. I even got a comment from both Mike and Josh, which made him look over more often, watching intently the whole night. 

“If you keep reminding me of stuff like that, we’ll stay here until dawn” 

“I wouldn’t mind that” 

He starts moving, each thrust earring whimpers and moans from us both, filling the room with our voices and sloppy slapping. His hand eventually finds its way down to my clit, rubbing soft circles in rhythm with his movements. My arms go to his back and neck, pulling him down and meeting my lips with his, my nails scratching from the heavy stimulation. He knows what he’s doing, and he’s doing it well, the knot in my stomach steadily building up as he keeps going. 

“Switch” I whisper, and he obliges, turning us around and letting me straddle him. I start moving immediately, chasing my orgasm as he whimpers and groans. I jump up and down, my thighs doing most of the work. He notices quickly, and his arms go to my ass, groping harshly and moving me. The position makes him reach a new angle deep inside, making the pleasure unbearable. I’m so incredibly close, I just need a little more time. I start feeling hotter, sweat appearing on my forehead as I keep up the sloppy rhythm, letting my breasts jiggle in front of him. 

I start grinding a bit when I go down, letting our pelvises touch, and giving me that extra stimulation on my clit. This takes over me, making me go over the edge, tightening around him. I keep going, riding out my high on top of him as he jumps me up and down. He gives one last slam, pressing me deep on him and spilling inside me. Thank god I’m on the pill. 

I collapse on top of him, pulse skyrocketing and chest heaving. We’re both sweaty and flustered, breathing in sync as his hand comes to caress my back. I hum into his neck, kissing him softly. 

“So, I think you might have a thing for me” he smiles, fingers going to tangle in my hair. 

“You don’t say” 

“I’m not complaining”

“You better not” I laugh, capturing his lips on mine yet again. “Should we finish that computer?” 

“You don’t want to see what else these hands can do?” 

“I’m not saying no to that”