#let them tag team him is my point
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
going fucking crazy because it just clicked for me that art only being able to get hard if he's "coached" in the screenplay is 100% because of patrick "coaching him" on how to jerk off. like the implication that it canonically* fucked him in the head sexually for decades.
*i'm synthesizing two different but related versions of the characters life 😔
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
OKAY! Chatot rant in tags below! Read at your own discretion.
#okay starting from the beginning of where ppl usually dislike him. apple woods chapter.#he doesn’t give hero/partner the CHANCE to explain themselves despite them being relatively good recruits up until that point.#and that legit might be my only gripe with that chapter bc!!! stories need conflict! I LIKE the conflict in apple woods!!!#hero and partner being punished so something they didn’t do!#the misunderstanding! how team skull (Skuntank) actually outplays the main duo with a clever yet rotten trick. I LOVE that it segways into-#one of the more sweeter scenes of guild members looking out for eachother. I LIKE APPLE WOODS CONFLICT.#but chatot just. not giving them a chance. is so dumb.#I’d personally fix this by having a lil montage of hero/partner fucking up on jobs. A LOT. and chatot giving them a pass every time.#and let the perfect apple incident BE the one where he puts his foot down and doesn’t listen to them. bc he’d given them loads of chances.#and doesn’t want to hear any excuse.#but yeah. I legit dont mind him during that chapter except for that really stupid and frustrating moment.#NOW. CHAPTER 17.#UGGGGHHH WHERE DO I BEGIN#Him not believing hero and Partner about Grovyle and the future being in ruin? FINE. ACTUALLY GOOD. BC CHATOT WOULD BE SKEPTIC.#IT FITS HIS CHARACTER!!#BUT WHAT DOES SUCK. IS HIM GOING ‘Dusknoir isn’t the bad guy. he didn’t do anything wrong’#WHEN HE LITERALLY KIDNAPPED HERO AND PARTNER RIGHT I N F R O N T OF HIM.#(NO LITERALLY. HIS CHARACTER IS IN THE FRONT ROW WHEN IT HAPPENED.)#and him. having the GALL to tell hero and partner they must’ve been ‘seeing things’ and downplaying the HELL they went through.#despite them being missing for hours/days. his own guild recruits. and his angry sprite showing up.#like. I think that’s when I genuinely despised him.#that and him going ‘OH I BELIEVED YOU THE WHOLE TIME HEEHOO :)’ shit was so fucking annoying.#just playing it off as a joke the second the guild started to believe hero and partner.#IMAGINE IF HE W A S ACTUALLY TESTING THE GUILD’S TRUST. SHOWCASING HIM AS THE MORE RESPONSIBLE AND RESPECTFUL RIGHT HAND OF THE GUILD.#and yes. Brine cave he saves hero and partner. but at that point I just didn’t care anymore.#he fucked those two over so much. that I didn’t care what ‘valiant’ sacrifice he had.#and he grills Team Skull for what they did OFF SCREEN. they couldn’t even give us THAT.#<<< THAT or him outright saying sorry would’ve been nice. IKIK his ‘actions’ or whatever but.#eughh again this is all imo. I’m not trying to make people hate him or change their mind.#I’ll get into positives in the second post cause I’m running out of tags
86 notes
·
View notes
Text
#19.3 Unravel
It had been some time since Agni felt this nervous. Not even talking with Jinsung Ha recently had made him feel like this. He fiddled with the mask on his hand as he waited for Grace to come back. He had thought hard on how to deliver the news, but he knew that no matter how he phrased it, Grace would be upset. Velt nuzzled under his palm and Agni gave her a few pats, before deciding that she would be better inside her bowl in his lighthouse, just in case the shinsu acted up around Grace after he received the news.
Grace came back wearing the comfiest shirt and shorts Agni knew Grace liked to wear on lazy days. He joined him on the floor, and they ate dinner together. Agni always finished last, so while waiting for him to finish his meal, Grace told him about his day with Bam. Grace was intrigued by how much his way of thinking had changed, and how glad he was to be able to be by Bam's side when he was having a bad day. It reminded Agni of the hidden floor, when Grace faced his sworn enemy.
They left the used bowls on the coffee table and went to brush their teeth. Afterwards, they turned off the light and went upstairs to sit on their bed. Grace's curious gaze never left him, and Agni curled his feet nervously.
Grace was the one who broke the silence. "So…what is it?"
Agni's breath hitched. This was the part he dreaded most. "I talked with the crocodile earlier. Did you know that he could manipulate stone already?"
"Huh." Grace needed a few seconds to let the information sink in. "Didn't Rak learn it on the Hell train? How does he know it?"
"Turns out our crocodile also traveled back to the past like us. He found the young crocodile and taught him."
"What?!" Grace gasped, wide eyed. "That means our Rak is–!!"
"He's dead." Agni quickly snuffed out that hope. They had been in delusion for long enough; it was time that they faced the bitter truth. "He suffered a fatal injury from the explosion. He couldn't have lasted long without proper help." Agni omitted the actual cause for Rak's death, but still kept his words true. "I'm sorry."
"…Oh." Grace looked lost, just like Agni was. His lips parted a little, but they closed before any sound escaped.
Agni gently squeezed Grace's hand, encouraging and comforting as he let the silence stretch on, giving Grace some time to process the information.
"Agni…" Grace whispered, "do you think Hatz and Isu…?"
Agni bit his lip and avoided his gaze, as the nightmare of that day replayed in his mind. He witnessed Hatz get his arm ripped off when trying to protect him. He could still recall the clang of a sword hitting the floor, and Hatz's suppressed scream that gnawed deep at his guilt. He witnessed Isu get beheaded after being taken hostage, the memory of warm blood painting them both still vivid like it happened yesterday.
Agni refused to acknowledge their possible deaths, because it felt like a nightmare that one day he could hopefully wake up from. He avoided the topic when Grace brought it up, so he wouldn't have to say it aloud and make it real. He had been so hard on himself, because he couldn't get rid of the feeling that he had failed Grace and everyone else involved.
Agni knew this had to change if he wanted to live better, now that they had gotten a second chance. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat that had built up over the years and asked mostly to himself; "What are the odds of their survival?"
"There's always a chance–"
"Grace." Agni looked him straight in the eye. "They were already severely injured before the explosion hit."
Grace fell silent and went still.
Agni felt a pang of guilt upon witnessing Grace's reaction. "Sorry. I didn't mean to snap." Agni fiddled with his hands. He realized that he didn't know how much Grace knew of what happened. "My scar…do you know how I got it?"
"I…was told it was from the family heads' battle." Grace looked thoughtful. Agni knew he was trying to be careful with his words. "A stray attack?"
"It could have been worse." The memory of the scorching heat on his skin felt like it had only happened yesterday. He passed out right when he was about to heal Isu, and only found out later that he also lost sweetfish at that time. The days he spent recovering from the burn, to withstand the excruciating pain every second he was conscious, and finally coming to terms that it'd be a permanent scar, was one of the turning points that had changed him forever. Were Grace not there to care for him, he might have ended up destroying himself even more.
Agni hadn't realized he had his left hand clawing on his cheek until Grace pried his hand off and frowned, "You're doing it again."
"Maybe I should wear the mask…" Agni muttered to himself. After all, Grace gave it to him less so he could hide the scar but more to prevent him from unconsciously hurting himself. The only time he could safely take it off was when Grace was around.
Agni bit his lip nervously when Grace didn't reply. He no longer had the courage to look Grace in the eye that spoke so much concern, so he leaned close and rested his head on Grace's chest. "Rak, Isu, Hatz and Hwaryun were trying to get me out of that damned place. But we were caught while escaping, and…it was a bloodbath. I was…too occupied to react to the incoming heat. Rak shielded us from the explosion. And when I woke up…"
"They weren’t with you," Grace finished it for him after Agni trailed off a moment too long.
Agni nodded dazedly, "I've been telling myself that they're still alive, after a blow that could kill rankers. But…who am I kidding? I was lucky enough to survive with just this little–" Agni vaguely pointed to himself– "inconvenience."
Agni felt a hand gripping his arm, and he pulled away to see Grace looking at him with a pained expression. His eyes were glossy and his lips were pulled into a thin line. Trusting his instinct, Agni reached out to gently trace and cup Grace's cheek with his free hand.
"I'm sorry," Agni muttered. "I'm sorry, for not telling you sooner."
Agni silently witnessed tears that streamed down on his love's face. It was a bitter sight that Agni wished he'd never have to see again, that he had tried to avoid for so long by not telling him. He pulled Grace in and held him close to his chest, as if Agni was trying to gather his own crumbled heart back together.
Grace mumbled their late best friends' names as he held onto him tighter, shaking from each breath he took between sniffles.
Agni felt his own eyes sting with unshed tears. He remembered the years he spent climbing the tower together with his old team. Despite their banter being his source of headaches, Agni knew he too had come to acknowledge them as his cherished friends. Only when they were gone did Agni realize how much he'd miss having them around. Seeing the younger them didn't exactly close the gaping hole in his heart, but at least the emptiness was more filled.
Agni squeezed Grace tighter. "We have their younger selves with us now. We will protect them better this time."
Grace only nodded and sank further into his embrace. And Agni planted kisses on his hair, relishing the thought that after everything he had gone through, Grace was still a constant in his life. As long as he had him, everything would be okay.
When Grace started shaking again, Agni caressed his hair and hummed a comfort song they had known by heart. Still, it didn't make falling asleep any easier for Agni, especially not after admitting that his nightmare was very much real. However, as he had been through grief…this, too, would pass.
Masterlist
Previous
Next
Let me know your thoughts in the reblogs <3
☕ Buy me coffee ☕
#Whee we get to know some of their past. Specifically their turning point#I hope it flows nicely because i have rewritten this like 3 times now 😭😭😭 dialogues are just not my specialty#like how to make them reveal such information without making them come out of the blue#writing style aside. let's talk about why Agni behaves this way#I will save the details on the what and how for the prologue. but basically Agni had been through hell that he couldn't escape alone#Rak Hatz and Isu saved him (or attempted to). and Agni owed them for saving his life. thus the strong attachment that Khun doesn't have#also let me mention that Agni had trouble differentiating between hallucination and reality after the incident. So he was kind of in denial#maybe Agni had come to a conclusion that they might be dead months after that. but he was too afraid to admit it to Grace#because he thought it was partly his fault for being incompetent. and Grace would hate him for letting their friends die#not wanting to risk being left by Grace. he just put himself (and inevitably Grace too) in the illusion of truth#that there's still a chance their friends are still alive because they have no proof of their deaths#so when Agni was offered to go back to the past. he agreed to it. Already expecting that Rak Hatz Isu aren't the same ones that he looks fo#but it was as good as he could get to redeem himself. Plus they get to meet everyone else who they couldn't save#Anyway. I'm taking hiatus until April. In return I will answer if you have any questions whether it is written in the tags or sent via ask#see ya folks <3 we'll get more brothers and team bonding when I return#tower of god#tog#two sides of the same coin fic#my fic#my art#bam#25th bam#jue viole grace#khun#khun aguero agnis#khunbam#shibisu#ship leesoo#rak wraithraiser#hatz
63 notes
·
View notes
Text
I think people overestimate how feminist team black is. If someone brings up how Baela should be the heir to Driftmark, it's always "she would've been Queen if not for the Greens!", ignoring that 1, she would be Queen consort, not a Queen in her own right, and 2 she has a legitimate claim in her own right to Driftmark. Team Black's goal is to crown Rhaenyra, but Rhaenyra becoming Queen isn't a win for feminism because it does nothing to dismantle the rest of the patriarchal system that exists in Westeros. From what we've gotten so far, it reads that Rhaenyra wants to be the exception and not the rule. Rhaenyra has made a lot of bad political decisions, which means she can't acknowledge Baela's claim because it would weaken her own claim (blatantly admitting her eldest sons are illegitimate would not end well for her to say the least). So she betrothes Jace and Luke to Baela and Rhaena to kind of atone for that, like as a consolation prize Baela will be Queen and Rhaena will be lady of Driftmark, neither of them would hold either title in their own right. It's good matches because the kids like each other and will treat each other well, but it's not a feminist win or a feministic liberation. It's usurpation, usurpation that takes place because Rhaenyra has to do damage control after having illegitimate children and after a serious of bad political decisions (both hers and her fathers, Viserys is the arbiter of this entire mess). To me, Rhaenyra is very reminiscent of Mary Queen of Scots, I can see a lot of elements drawn from Mary's history in Rhaenyra's story and character, down to their sons eventually taking the crown they failed to claim/keep.
#hotd#hotd spoilers#house of the dragon#house of the dragon spoilers#Rhaenyra targaryen critical#I'm going to do a rewatch prior to season 2 & I'm going to analyse the bad political decisions from vis & Rhaenyra that lead to the dance#like by no means the only factors at play lets not forget otto daemon larys etc#but it's an interesting factor that the fandom doesn't really acknowledge#and a lot of Rhaenyra's bad political decisions are understandable because of her youth and because viserys does fuck all to prepare her#like even if she wasn't who he choose as heir she should've been given a better political education as a princess#but vis fails his most of his other four kids in that regard to#i mean he also fails to acknowledge them or remember them but anyways#he is a huge part of the reason aegon and aemond became he they did#props to whoever probably alicent for sending daeron to oldtown so he could grow up well adjusted#alicent: i'm writing a letter to daeron is there anything you would like to say to him?#viserys: daemon? why are you writing to daemon?#alicent: daeron?#viserys: who?#alicent: our son? the one you sent to squire in oldtown?#viserys: i think i'd remember if we had a son who's name was one letter different to my brothers#viserys: in fact i do alicent do you mean the one who lost an eye?#alicent: *screaming internally*#viserys targaryen#king viserys#rhaenyra is such an interesting character but i hate how the fandom sanctified her because how dare characters be complex and have flaws#like you dont have to justify their actions or bend over backwards to deny their faults to like a character you know 😭#and the same thing is done to daemon who is far more fucked up and far more flawed in the show than the fandom allows#i hate the team stuff tho i get hbo going for it as a marketing move that was genius but my god are certain stans insufferable#the entire point of the dance is that its a pointless tragedy there's no good or bad side theyre both awful in their own ways#but thats a longer rant for another time outside of the tags
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
pulps law is that whenever i get insane enough about something, i will inevitably attempt to make a persona 5 au, regardless of whether or not i am successful at it.
#pulp speaks#anyways guys youre never going to guess what au ive been thinking of lately .#i know the correct way to go about this is make sidestep the main character but you see#i will not be doing that. and actually in fact i will not be following the storyline of persona 5 in the slightest. because lol#but morgana exists in this au purely because i dont think the others would survive without him explaining what the metaverse is 💀#the rangers are a team of detective for the public sector in this au#and dr mortum is an unassuming everyday scientist that should not peak the rangers interest in any way. at all#in the video game that exists in my head the player can pick between playing julia or ricardo#it doesnt change the storyline that much but it does make the character relationships funky so#in my head chen is best friends with julia and argent is best friends with ricardo#chen and ortega stumble into the metaverse together so if you pick julia its two best friends in a life or death situation#but if you pick ricardo its your sisters best friend+kinda your boss in a life or death situation which personally i find extremely funny#regardless of which ortega you play with the other one doesnt know about the metaverse until id say like. the end of the first palace? beca#use thats when they start getting suspicious#and because this is ortega they follow them and find out about the metaverse that way#i dont think they become a phantom thief but i think they do end up covering the others asses irl#dr mortum still isnt actually a doctor but i think theyre the one providing medicine to them at the start of the game#theyre extremely wary of the rangers at the start and ortega can barely convince them to sell them things which they still charge-#-extremely high over. i think the turning point comes when they discover the metaverse because holy fuck they are So excited about it#both because of the implications and what the metaverse could be used For#chen is not thrilled about letting them know this but theyre kind of their supplier so its not like he can argue#i think mortum joins the phantom thieves eventually but as a navi#obviously its in their best interest to provide everything for free now that theyre part of the team but they still have to order supplies-#-so i think the way it works out in game is that theres certain days supplies can be ordered and you have to pay for it but the items can b#-picked up at any day of the week#but also i have no idea how that would work practically (its all in my head anyway so it doesnt actually matter but yk)#theres still more thoughts about this but im ✨running out of tags✨ and also i cannot organize my thoughts enough to explain it#im not main tagging this its going to be my silly self indulgent au for eternity ok
11 notes
·
View notes
Text
Tag Team (Deadpool/Wolverine)
Description: Wade is distracted during a mission so afterwards all 3 of them fuck in the Honda.
Warning: Smut
Word Count: 1,773k
Request:
IM OBSESSED WITH WADE AND LOGAN AS A TEAM... May I request a smut where both of them fuck fem!Reader?
Idk reader could also be a hero and it happens during a mission, I trust your writing!!!
Wade had been distracted the entire mission. It was to the point that Logan was getting annoyed with him even more than usual. Y/N had no clue what they were fighting about but was also annoyed with both of them. “Can you guys shut the fuck up?” She growled at them. They both stopped arguing and looked at her, “Can you stop being so hot?” Wade asked. She rolled her eyes and put her finger to her mouth to shush him. “Yes mommy.” Logan looked at him with disgust.
Wade was a kinky son of a bitch but Logan never got used to it. They were trying to kill bad guys but Wade was about to ruin it. Y/N had been so into the mission she had failed to see both of them checking her out. She did have blood all over her but what was new? Wade and Logan both had it bad for the girl but Y/N was oblivious. Before Wade could say anything else the bad guys appeared and they had to kill.
Y/N shot at them, never missing. Logan clawed them up and managed to get more blood on them than before. Wade? Well he was still distracted and barely did anything, “WHAT THE FUCK, WADE?” Y/N yelled at him. She pulled him right out of his dirty thoughts. “Y/N and I just did all the work.” Logan added. “Well my bad that I can’t stop thinking about taking you both to a whole new world of pleasure.” Y/N stared at him with a blank look.
She was really tired of him acting like this, especially on a mission. “Well next time don’t come.” She said and walked away from him. Logan followed but not before growling at him. “Oh come on! You guys act like this isn’t hot as fuck.” He whined, catching up to them. “What’s hot about killing people, Wade?” “EVERYTHING!!” Y/N sighed and stopped walking. “Wade, I’m very flattered but now is not the time.” She said to him. “Wait so there’s a time?” He asked. She sighed and started walking again.
The Honda Odyssey was the only “bed” that they had which sucked ass but it had to work. They all reeked of blood and guts but Wade couldn’t stop thinking about fucking Y/N in it. “So about earlier, is now the time?” He asked. Logan rolled his eyes and Y/N sighed. She sat up in the backseat and stared at him.
He was still wearing his mask and Logan took his off. “Wade, don’t you wanna fuck in a bed?” She asked, looking around the car. “Honey, I would fuck you in a volcano.” Yeah cuz that was a turn on. She looked at Logan, “What about you?” She asked him. He opened his eyes to look at her, “I wouldn’t fuck you in a volcano but this is all we have.” She laughed at his words and put her weapons on the floor.
“Alright guys. Let’s have some fun.” Wade was out of the car and to the backseat before she could finish her sentence. Logan got on the other side of her and she looked between them, “I’m not sure how this will wo-” Both of them attached their mouths to her neck. She gasped at the sudden action of them and she never noticed that Wade lifted his mask. Their lips moved sloppily on her neck, leaving marks. She gripped both of their necks and pulled them closer. They both placed a hand on her upper thigh and she leaned back against the seat, taking them with her.
Her eyes were closed as they marked her neck until she had purple spots. Logan moved down to her cleavage and Wade’s hand brushed against her pussy. She gasped at the feeling of both of them. Logan kissed and sucked the top of boob while Wade managed to get his fingers in her body suit to her bare pussy, “Holy shit.” She breathed out and he chuckled. “Ya like that princess?” Wade asked as his fingers rubbed her clit.
She was soaked and had been for a few hours now. Logan moved from her tit to the floor and spread her legs. “Move your fingers you Merc.” Logan said to Wade. Wade whined but did anyway so Logan could feast on her pussy. “Take this off.” He demanded her. She undid her body suit and Logan helped her get it off until she was fully naked in nothing but gloves and her boots. Logan chuckled as he looked at her wet pussy.
He sniffed her and sighed, “Fuck darling you smell delicious.” He told her and licked up her clit. She threw her head back and moaned. Wade watched as Logan ate her out and got even harder. He looked at Y/N who had her eyes closed and her breathing was harder. He leaned back too and turned her head towards him and kissed her. She weakly kissed back and moaned into his mouth. Logan was eating her out like an animal eating its first meal.
It was everything. Her hands gripped his hair making him moan into her pussy. The vibration made her whine and Wade stuck his tongue in her mouth. She let his tongue explore her mouth and Logan’s explored her pussy. Her hips bucked into his mouth and she shuddered at how close she was, “I’m gonna cum!” She whined into the kiss. “Cum on his beautiful face.” Wade told her and that did it. She fucked her hips up into his face and came all over. Wade praised her as she rode her sweet orgasm.
Logan flattened his tongue as she did all the work until the pleasure was gone. He pulled away from her pussy and smirked at her. She loved the sight of him covered in her cum. Wade did as well, “Damn wish that was me.” Logan got back onto the seat next to her and kissed her, giving her a taste. She moaned into his mouth. “Fuck that’s so hot.” Wade said. Y/N pulled away from the kiss and moved to kiss Wade giving him a taste as well. While they were kissing she took his mask off and threw it on the ground. Wade was never insecure around them.
They made him feel loved. She broke the kiss and moved in between his legs. He looked down in shock as she pulled out his dick. “Kiss.” She told them and without protest they did. She smirked as she watched for a second before running her pretty fingers over Wade’s cock. He gasped into the kiss. She wrapped her hand around him and jerked him off a few times before taking him into her mouth. Her mouth was the best thing to fuck.
It was wet and warm and felt so good. She placed her hands on his thighs and gave him the best blow job of his life. Wade was the loudest one out of the three of them. He fucked up into her mouth as the car rocked. The windows steamed up as they kissed and she gave him the best blow job ever. “Fuck. Your mouth is amazing, baby.” He moaned.
Logan watched as his dick went in and out of her mouth. Sure her mouth was good but her pussy was even better. Logan and Wade stopped kissing once Wade got really close. He threw his head back and cried out as he came in her throat. She pulled off of him and pulled Logan down for a kiss. She let Wade’s cum travel into Logan’s mouth and he swallowed. Wade gasped as he had never seen anything like that before.
Y/N smirked at him and got back in between them. “So I want all or nothing. You both have to be inside of me at the same time.” She says and they both nod before getting naked. She got on the center console of the car and they both managed to get their dicks in her at the same time. Their car was small but it managed to work. Y/N gasped at both of them penetrating her at the same time. Logan tried to let her adjust to the size but Wade didn’t care and started thrusting.
Her moans were loud inside the car and it felt very hot. Her jaw was dropped and her bloody hair was wet with sweat as well. Wade laid his head on the head of the carseat and groaned out. Logan who had more stanamia than both of them was fucking her fast and hard. Wade tried to keep up but it felt better this way.
“Shit you both are so fucking good.” She whined as one dick would hit her spot and then the other would right after. “You’re one to talk princess, your pussy is so perfect.” Wade groaned. Her moans turned to screams as she started thrusting back on them. The perfect rhythm began and all 3 of them were making loud noises. The heat of the car made things more intense.
Logan’s hand that was gripping one side of her hip was squeezing to the point of bruises. Y/N wished more than anything that she could see how fucked out they both looked but that was the con with doggy style. Especially in a small car. Wade groaned as he felt her pussy squeeze them, “Fuck princess, I’m about to cum.” He announced.
Y/N smirked before moaning as she squeezed them tighter cuz a loud moan to release from Logan. He barely moaned but when he did it was amazing and hot. “Fuck sweetheart, If you do that again I’m gonna cum too.” “That’s the plan.” She whimpered and squeezed them. “Where do ya want it, pretty girl?” “Inside of me. Both of you.” She cried as she too felt closer to the edge.
Wade groaned loudly as he came hard inside of her pretty pussy. Logan was a few seconds later and stilled behind her as he came. Y/N helped them ride it out as she came next screaming their names. The car smelled of sweat and sex as they both pulled out of her. Wade collapsed back against the seat and sighed, “Man I do love a good tag team after a crazy mission.” He said. Logan glared at him, “You didn’t even help.” Y/N turned around to look at the two. “Boys don’t start.” She warned and got in the middle of them. “Maybe if you guys are good we can go for round 2.” She smirked and brought them both in for a kiss.
#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool 3#deadpool#deadpool smut#deadpool x reader#ryan reynolds#wolverine#wolverine xmen#wolverine smut#wolverine x reader#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#logan howlett imagine#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wade wilson#wade wilson x reader#wade wilson imagine#x men#mcu#marvel#marvel imagine#marvel x reader
5K notes
·
View notes
Text
Have You Ever Tried This One? | m.s.
Summary: The triplets attend singer!reader's concert and Matt gets catches her eye from the crowd.
Part 2 Here!!
Warnings: insinuating sexual acts, talks of sex positions
Word Count: 640 words
My Master List
Join my tag list : @matthewsroses
Divider by: @anitalenia
A/N: This is inspired by this post by @delilahsturniolo . Thank you for letting me use your work as inspiration! Also thank you to @chestersturniolo for helping me find her piece. I do not give consent for my work to be reposted, rewritten, or shared on this platform or any other.
<3 - Billie
The lights in the arena darkened around the group standing at the barricade. Matt, Nick, Chris, and Chris' girlfriend cheered along with everyone else as you appeared in a spotlight on the stage. "Boston! It's so good to see you!" you exclaimed into the microphone causing the crowd to roar. Matt practically had hearts for eyes as you sauntered around the stage in small, sparkly outfits. Sure, he had heard your music and seen you in photos before, but there was something different about seeing you in front of him. Chris and Nick quickly took notice of Matt's in awe state and chuckled.
After a few numbers you had reached the interactive section of your concert. Oftentimes you chose a person in the crowd who was dancing the most or seemed to be having the best time. It was never actually based on your physical attraction to someone, until this time. You had been eyeing the three identical boys in the front row. One specifically caught your eye. You'd seen these boys online before and while you didn't know much about them, you knew which one you wanted. He seemed a bit more quiet than the other two and was staring at you like you were glowing. "Girls, girls, come here!" you spoke into the mic, gesturing for two of your dancers to come over. "Do you see that guy right there? Yes, the triplet but that one, with the pink t shirt," you pointed in Matt's direction. He froze as the camera panned to him for the crowd to see on the big screen. Everyone went wild causing Nick and Chris to bust out laughing. The lights throughout the arena flashed red and blue as a siren sound played throughout the stadium. You knelt down in front of him, "hey there, what's your name?" You cooed into the microphone, batting your eyelashes.
"M-Matthew!" he stammered nervously as Nick filmed the interaction.
"Oh Matthew, I'm afraid you're under arrest. You are just way too hot!" You giggled into the microphone, "Will you take these sweetie?" The security guard took the fuzzy pink handcuffs from your hand and held them over the barricade for Matt to grab. His blush was iminent as he took them with a smile and a nod. You stood back up, winking at him. "There are so many thoughts running through my head, Matthew. Dirty, dirty - oh! my clothes are falling off for you, Matthew!" You laughed stepping out of your dress revealing a shiny pink body suit. The intro of the song began and you danced and sang with your crew. "Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad's genetics," You sang, gesturing to the triplets with a giggle. Every once in a while throughout the song you'd shoot Matt a look or a wink. "You make me wanna make you fall in love. Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah. Wanna try out some freaky positions? Hey Matthew, have you ever tried this one?" You sat on your knees with one arm in the air doing a lasso motion to represent cowgirl. Matt about fell over and Chris was a laughing mess next to him. His brothers could not believe what they were witnessing.
That song ended and the show continued. A few songs later, the triplets and Chris' girlfriend were approached by someone from your team. "Matt?" Your manager asked, "You've all been requested backstage after the show." She smiled handing them all passes and getting back to work.
"No way!" Chris' girlfriend jumped up and down.
"Dude, your charm got us connections!" Nick laughed patting Matt on the shoulder. Matt stood staring at the backstage passes in awe. He couldn't believe that you had noticed him in the first place but also to invite him backstage??
#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#sturniolo#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt stuniolo fanfic#Spotify
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Special guest | MV1
In which Max pays a visit to a primary school class to answer a few questions before the Dutch gp
or
In which Max only has eyes for the young class teacher
▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄
Today is a very special day. Your six-year-old pupils were particularly looking forward to this day.
The Zandvoort Grand Prix, which was not too far from the school, would take place at the weekend.
In a few minutes, a very special guest would be coming to your class - the lion class.
Over the last few days, you and your class have organised and prepared a lot to make your guest's time in class as pleasant as possible.
A satisfied smile sits firmly on your face as you walk through the rows of tables and put up the children's name tags you have made so that your guest can call them by name.
You then unfold the blackboard to reveal the colourfully painted greeting.
Written in orange chalk in the centre is the words Welcome Max Verstappen.
Your pupils have painted a few trophies around it, as well as chequered flags and racing cars.
A glance at the clock hanging above the classroom door tells you that it is about time for the first pupils to arrive.
Shortly afterwards, the first pupils enter your classroom with big smiles on their faces. Some of the children are already wearing fan merchandise.
After you have greeted each child with a quick hug, the rows of tables slowly start to fill up and an excited murmur goes round the room.
"Good morning my lions", you greet your class with a smile on your lips and a little chant of welcome comes back.
"As you know, we have a visitor coming in a few minutes. But before we get there, I'd like to go through a few things with you about how we're going to behave during this," you begin as you sit down on the edge of your desk and look around the room.
Yesterday you went through the rules for today with your protégés. It is important to you that everything runs smoothly and well today.
It's not a given that someone famous would take the time to answer questions in a class full of six-year-olds.
" Who can tell me the most important things to consider for today? "
Within a few seconds, countless hands shoot into the air.
Your gaze wanders briefly through the rows before you take a boy from your class, who lists all the rules to be observed for the next two lessons.
With a satisfied smile on your lips, you thank the boy and add a sentence or two, telling your charges that it's important that they don't talk out of turn and to please come forward if they want to ask Mr Verstappen a question.
You know that the class is pretty excited and probably not everything will go one hundred per cent, but despite all that, you're really confident that it will go well.
Some time passes, during which your class spends painting Max Boliden in bright colours, until there is a knock at the door of your classroom.
Countless heads go up and look over to the door with wide eyes, while one or two squeak out.
You can clearly see the nervousness slowly rising in each of them, even in you.
You wipe your slightly sweaty hands on your black jeans before a smile creeps back onto your lips and a "Come in" leaves your lips.
Shortly afterwards, the door opens and a smiling Max Verstappen steps into your classroom.
As he does every time there's a race weekend, he's wearing one of his team shirts and dark trousers.
"Good morning! "He beams as he enters the classroom and lets his gaze wander round the room.
"Good morning Mr Verstappen! "The class literally shouts in chorus, causing a proud smile to spread across your lips.
Point one has already been successful.
"Welcome to the lion class. I am Mrs y/l/n. I'm really pleased to welcome you here today," you greet the Dutchman and hold out your hand to him, which he shakes with a smile.
" I'm delighted to be here today. "
You notice how his eyes linger on you a little longer, so you clear your throat quietly and look back at your protégés, who are scrutinising Max curiously and whispering quietly.
"Look what we've painted for you! " shouts Leona, one of your students, pointing to the blackboard and presenting the colourful picture to Max.
"You drew this especially for me? That's really great! " Max steps a little closer to the board to take a closer look at the artwork.
"And we drew cars too! " shouts the next child and gets Max's attention.
"Did you design new liveries for special Grand Prix races? " Max begins to walk through the rows to take a closer look at the coloured-in cars.
He repeatedly takes time for each of the children to exchange a few sentences with them about their coloured pictures.
Smiling, you watch him and sit back on the edge of your desk.
A glance at the map next to you shows that Max will start by introducing himself and talking about his motorsport career. Afterwards, the children will ask a few questions and get autographs. Finally, there will be a little bobby car race in the schoolyard, where each child will compete against Max himself.
"You're all really great artists. I'll show my team your paintwork and I'm sure something can be done! " Max grins as he walks back to the blackboard with the pile of leaves.
Enthusiastic murmurs go through the class as Max begins to prepare for his little talk.
And shortly afterwards, he begins to tell your class, who are literally glued to his lips, about his motorsport career.
During Max's lecture, you sat in the back row to give Max enough space at the front of the blackboard.
His lecture was quite interesting, so now you know a lot more about the Dutchman.
The children had been so quiet throughout the lecture that you are really proud and shower the children with a little praise.
"And now we come to your questions. Now you can ask me anything you've always wanted to know. But think about your question carefully, because everyone is only allowed to ask me one. "
Max holds up his index finger to make it clear to the children that they are really only allowed to ask one question.
"Just one? How am I supposed to decide which question to ask? " Liana's sad voice sounded from the front, causing Max to start smiling.
" You'll manage that, Liana. Take some time to think of a good question," you reassure the little blonde-haired girl, whereupon Max gives you a grateful look.
" Who wants to start asking me a question? " As Max's gaze begins to wander around the class, countless little fingers are raised in the air.
One or two of them even start to kneel on the chair so that they can stick their finger higher in the air and be seen better by Max.
" Finn ", Max takes the first boy.
" Would you like to drive for Red Bull forever or for Mercedes or Ferrari? "
The Red Bull driver leans against your desk and rests his hands slightly to the right and left of him as he begins to think for a moment.
Your protégés look eagerly at their star and wait for an answer.
"I actually feel incredibly comfortable in my team and so far there's no reason for me to leave. I get on well with everyone in the team and we have a good working relationship so that everything runs as smoothly as it should. I'll never rule out a change, because you never know what's to come, but so far I can reassure you and tell you that I'm not considering a change. "
A sigh of relief goes through the class, which makes you grin.
In fact, most of your class are Max and Red Bull fans.
" Who is your favourite team colleague? " Joleen asks Max after he has taken her on.
"So far I've got on really well with all my team mates and we've all got on really well, but if I had to choose a team mate who I've got on best with, I'd say Daniel. The two of us not only get on particularly well in Formula 1, but also in our private lives. "
In fact, you've already guessed this answer, as you could always clearly see how well Max and Daniel got on and harmonised with each other.
You still mourn the time when Max and Daniel were team-mates. That time really was by far one of the funniest content times at Red Bull Racing.
A few more interesting questions were asked, which Max answered in detail, such as his favourite colour, which is blue, his favourite food, which was tomato soup and the question about his pets, Jimmy and Sassy two Bengals cats.
"Is there anyone else who hasn't asked me a question yet? " Max's gaze travelled around the class.
Even after answering countless questions, he still seemed pretty relaxed and happy.
"Mrs y/l/n hasn't asked a question yet," Johann takes the floor as all the children turn to look at you.
Max also leans a little more on the desk now as he leans forward to see you in the back row.
" Do you have a question for me? " he grins.
So you start going through all the possible questions that are floating around in your head.
There are a lot of things that would interest you, but they don't belong here right now, so you decide on the simplest question that any teacher would have asked.
" What was your favourite subject at school? "
" Oh, that's really easy! " Max grins and almost claps his hands. " Your teacher will probably rip my head off for this, but I never liked going to school. The only subject I liked was geography. What's your favourite subject? "
Countless voices start shouting their favourite subjects in confusion, which Max takes in his stride with a smile and somehow tries to catch every subject.
To restore some calm, you walk back to the front and start clapping a rhythm, which the children immediately follow and the class becomes quiet again.
A quiet " Wow " leaves Max's lips, who looks at you with fascination and makes the blush rise slightly in your cheeks.
"That's the best way to keep things quiet," you almost babble as you start to clear your desk to give Max a little more space for the upcoming autographs.
You had already cleared out your desk, so there were hardly any things on it. However, you now have to keep your hands busy to avoid blushing even more or doing something stupid.
" Please line up to get an autograph. If you have an autograph, please go and put on your jacket so that we can go out into the school playground straight away. Please keep your voices down," you remind the children, who shortly afterwards line up in front of your desk waiting to sign an autograph.
You take the seat next to the door to keep an eye on the children who are putting on their jackets.
The autograph session goes faster than expected, so that within twenty minutes all the children are standing in the corridor whispering in their jackets and then follow Max and you out into the schoolyard in a duck march.
Yesterday afternoon you had already set up a small parkour, which you will have to drive through today with the two Bobby Cars.
The red and blue Bobby Car are already ready and waiting to be used.
You had even made a small podium out of cardboard boxes and bought small mini trophies to give your offspring the full programme of a racing experience.
While the children would race against Max, you would time them and the three fastest times would end up on the podium.
Max grabs the blue Bobby Car, which just fits half his knee, while Aaron can sit perfectly on the red Bobby Car.
While the two race against each other, the children cheer on Max and Aaron in different groups.
The latter narrowly wins, as Max has a few problems with the only Bobby Car.
Despite all this, the Dutchman doesn't lose the fun of the game, so he competes against every single child with joy and fun, even if it's not enough for one of the three podium places in the end.
Standing proudly on the podium with their trophies, the three winners literally raise their plastic trophies in the air until a couple of water pistols are used to replace the champagne shower and all the children run across the schoolyard screaming and chasing each other.
Smiling, you look after your class as Max stands next to you.
"That was a really nice day. Thank you for preparing so many nice things. I really don't know the last time I really enjoyed a day like this," said Max, smiling and thanking you.
"I also have to thank you. You really put a lot of effort into my class. You were really looking forward to the day, which was a real success. "
You can't stop a smile from forming on your lips as Max gives you a smile and then pulls something out of his trouser pocket.
" I forgot to give you your autograph. "
The Dutchman smiles and hands you the autograph card before also grabbing a water pistol and running over to your class.
Confused, you lower your eyes to the autograph card, which shows a grinning Max in his dark racing suit.
You really have a great class.
Your lions are really lucky to have such a great teacher like you.
You've learnt a lot about me today and I hope I get the opportunity to get to know you a little better.
Why don't you write to me
01*******
#max verstappen#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1#formula one imagine
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
Pocket Money Pt 2 | Lance Stroll x Reader
Summary: After some time apart, you and Lance realise your love and future mean more than fans' hateful comments
Warnings: Swearing. Sexual innuendos? Hateful fans
Female reader. All pics found on Pinterest.
prev.
F1 Masterlist
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
astonmartinf1 just posted
liked by chloestroll, scottyjames31 and others
astonmartinf1 fighting for points in imola. lance brings it home in P9, securing valuable points for the team #imolagp
5,396 comments
user1 lance stroll domination might bore some people
lance_stroll the car felt good this weekend. let’s keep it up, team
user2 just me or was lance looking a little happier this weekend than he has recently?
YourUserName wonderful race result
liked by lance_stroll
→ user3 the first social media appearance we’ve had from y/n in weeks and it was in support of lance?!?! what does this mean
user4 does this mean they’re still together?
→ user5 nah he definitely dumped her ass and now she’s just trying to get him back
user6 y/n commented and lance liked it! please tell me they’re back together. most underrated but cutest couple on the grid
user7 @ YourUserName talk about trying too hard. he broke up with you, sweetie. let it go
user8 i know they’re more private but i need them to confirm they’re still together so i can sleep easy
astonmartinf1 @ YourUserName fancy paying us a visit in canada?
liked by YourUserName
user9 not a bunch of you switching up like you weren’t calling for her head on a pike
→ user10 literally, you guys are probably the reason they broke up but now you’re acting like it’s not what you wanted, and the end of the world
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
astonmartinf1 just posted
liked by YourUserName, lance_stroll and others
astonmartinf1 all ready for race day tagged: lance_stroll, fernandoalo_official, YourUserName
4,889 comments
user11 omg lance looked so happy this weekend and i bet it was because y/n was there
fernandoalo_official y/n looks far better in lance’s helmet
→ YourUserName should put me in his seat next time
→ astonmartinf1 deal
→ lance_stroll my father will hear about this
→ YourUserName okay draco malfoy
chloestroll okay but i think i just fell in love with those eyes
→ scottyjames31 why are you never this publicly obsessed with me
→ chloestroll because you’re not y/n
→ danielricciardo she is the moment
BestFriend do NOT put her in the car. girly barely passed her driving test the second time
→ YourUserName you can shade me in our messages but publicly, you’re supposed to support me
→ lance_stroll you told me you did pass the first time
→ YourUserName no, i told you i tried really hard. and you claim to listen to me
→ lance_stroll i do!
→ YourUserName it’s okay. i’m still proud of you
→ lance_stroll and i’ll still let you behind the wheel so long as the drive is less than 10 minutes
user12 is this confirmation that they’re back together!!
→ user13 it has to be. not only is she in the paddock but she’s on an official post AND lance commented in response to her
user14 so you’re still trying to tell me she’s NOT a fame whore? she vanishes from social media after being found out as a gold digger to come back on an f1 page
→ user15 seriously, what is your issue? lance looked happier this race than he has in weeks, and he scored some points. there’s obviously only one reason for that
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
user1 agreed with @ daddynando. when you search her business, she is literally like second face you see after the ceo. she worked hard and deserves to flaunt it
→ user2 honestly. everyone talks about her being with lance for his money like she’s not loaded herself, and earnt it
→ user3 lance stroll wins for #1 wag because he’s always been so supportive of her and proud
user4 funny how many of you have switched your opinion since finding out y/n is in charge of running a pretty wealthy company, and has enough money to keep herself comfortable without lance
user5 i also really miss y/n and lance. they were a more lowkey couple but he was always caught in the background of driver clips staring at her
→ user6 i won’t believe in love until they get back together
→ user9 @ user6 you’re such a hypocrite. you literally have rts from two months ago of hateful tweets about her
user7 i’m so happy other people are finally being supportive of lance and y/n
user8 the way the two of them used to gush about starting a family and growing old together but the internet had to make her feel horrible about being in love
user9 not that i’m not happy to see all this support for y/nance. i’m just wondering where you were when she was getting death threats?
user10 omg guys, lance just posted!
user11 aston martin reposted this as well
→ user12 so did f1
→ user13 and mclaren, redbull and mercedes
→ user14 and danny ric, charles leclerc and a whole bunch of the grid
→ user15 they really said, we’re fed up with all of you
user16 people who have actually met her in the paddock say she’s the nicest person ever so idk why all you keyboard warriors thought you knew better
user17 the grid really said “not our y/n”
user18 anyone else feel like that last sentence was a bit of a threat?
→ user19 it’s because aston martin’s legal team located one of the women who was sending the most threats and served her
→ user20 i love that the official F1 website did an article about this because it serves as a warning to others
→ user21 lance stroll will find you lol
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
YourUserName just posted
liked by lance_stroll, danielricciardo and others
YourUserName here’s what you missed on glee
3,115 comments
user1 omg welcome back. we’ve missed you
user2 excuse me but all the lance pictures. my favourite f1 couple are back together!
lance_stroll my pretty girl 💚 but why did you have to post the ice-cream pic?
→ YourUserName but i also posted that hot pic with the chain 🤤
→ lance_stroll i thought we talked about that emoji
→ danielricciardo don’t try and change her
user3 woof woof (i can’t tell which of them i want to sleep with more)
user4 okay but the black shirt and the chain. i’m starting to see what miss y/n sees him in
YourBrother dude, i do not need to see your underwear on this app. please do not post what are clearly post-sex pics
→ YourUserName they were not! we did that the night before. this was me begging him not to leave for a meeting and get back in bed. he declined :(
→ BestFriend how dare he!
→ lance_stroll it was an important meeting!
→ BestFriend and she’s an important person!
estebanocon at least lance will stop moping now
→ lance_stroll i think i was allowed to mope! the love of my life was sad and in another country
→ user5 ladies, get a man who simps over you like lance stroll
chloestroll um, why am i not included in this photo dump? do i mean nothing to you?
→ lance_stroll how many times do i have to tell you that you’re not her favourite stroll
→ YourUserName it’s actually lawrence
user6 do you know what i like seeing more than happy y/n and lance? no hate comments on y/n’s post. our queen is being respected and loved as she should be
user7 excuse me, are those wedding pics in the background
→ YourUserName oops
lance_stroll just posted
liked by alex_albon, fernandoalo_official and others
lance_stroll 💚🤍
4,006 comments
astonmartinf1 everybody stay calm! We are totally normal about this!
→ user8 admin is all of us
astonmartinf1 a huge congratulations to the newlyweds but we’re still disappointed that you didn’t have an aston martin themed wedding :(
→ YourUserName we had an aston martin as our wedding car?
→ astonmartinf1 keep talking
→ user9 not admin acting like they didn't know this prior to y/n spilling on her recent post
YourUserName i love you, my darling husband
→ lance_stroll i love you more, my breathtaking wife. thank you for marrying me
→ user10 get someone who THANKS you for marrying them
danielricciardo what a beautiful day, mate. and what a gorgeous bride
→ YourUserName no amount of compliments will make me forgive you
→ danielricciardo i didn’t mean to! i was drunk
→ YourUserName you still kissed my husband
→ lance_stroll you promised you wouldn’t tell the internet!
→ YourUserName i lied!
→ landonorris this marriage is off to a great start. nice work, ricciardo
chloestroll have i stopped crying? not really. my baby brother and perfect sister-in-law
→ YourUserName i’m so lucky to call you my sister-in-law. although i think you’d do better as my wife ;)
→ chloestroll there’s still time
→ lance_stroll stop
→ scottyjames31 agreed
user11 i don’t understand how anyone could deny that these two truly love each other. the way they look at each other
landonorris could you go be ridiculously in love somewhere else?
→ lance_stroll this is my instagram?
user12 omg they still got married on their original date
YourBrother nonna says it’s time for babies now
→ lance_stroll i’m trying my best
→ danielricciardo don’t tell the internet that you’re raw dogging every night
→ YourUserName that’s it. you’re blocked
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
YourUserName just posted
liked by lance_stroll, georgerussell63 and others
YourUserName say hi to baby stroll
3,421 comments
lance_stroll my amazing family 🥰 y/n, you have given me the best gift by being my wife, and then by being my partner in parenting. i love you
→ YourUserName why do you insist on making me cry, my heart. i love you and our family more than anything
user13 excuse me but where was the pregnancy announcement!
chloestroll baby and the bear
→ YourUserName baby stroll loves his bobo bear more than anything
→ chloestroll what can i say, i’m the ultimate gift giver
→ lance_stroll you gave me an old vogue magazine for my birthday last year
→ chloestroll yes but for your 18th, i got you a hot date who eventually turned into the love of your life so i think i’m off the hook until the end of days
→ YourUserName i only agreed to it because i thought i would be YOUR hot date @ chloestroll
→ lance_stroll i have feelings
user14 we get their wedding and then we get nothing until they announce a whole ass baby
scottyjames31 am i still banned from the stroll household?
→ lance_stroll idk will you stop bringing red bull baby stuff into my house
→ scottyjames31 but then how will he show that he’s uncle scotty’s #1 supporter
→ danielricciardo and uncle danny’s
→ lance_stroll because he’s his dad’s #1 supporter
→ danielricciardo @ scottyjames31 this is uncle erasure
user15 when lance told us y/n wasn’t at races for the past 5 months because she was swamped at work, what he really meant was she was hiding a baby bump from us
user16 i knew her showing up in a different team hoodie every race was more than just a running joke!
→ landonorris she wore those because she loves mclaren! she loves us!
→ YourUserName debatable
→ landonorris i thought being a mum was supposed to make you nicer
→ YourUserName it did but you’re not my child
user17 i know this is gross but from doing the math, he got her pregnant on their honeymoon
→ user18 faster than he is on track
user19 um, mr stroll, we weren’t familiar with your game. those back muscles
→ YourUserName they’re what got me pregnant
→ user20 um, hello mrs stroll. PR might be after you now
→ astonmartinf1 she’s off the hook for now. we’re kind of hoping for them to make a grid’s worth of babies
→ user21 lawrence stroll ghost wrote this
→ lance_stroll sounds like we need to get started on baby #2, sweetheart
→ YourUserName only if you push this one out
→ lance_stroll deal
━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━
Hands up if you were shocked by Lance’s contract announcement today 😂 Never saw that coming
Baby Fever Angst Series
F1 Request are open! (They might just take some time)
Tag list
@callsignwidow @luvrrish @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @lav3nder-haze @hc-dutch @mxdi0 @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @glow-ish @g-l-o-b-e-w-h-o-r-e @weekendlusting @lemon-lav @minkyungseokie @bibissparkles @peachiicherries @rosecentury @exotic-iris13
#baby fever angst#formula 1#f1#formula 1 smau#f1 smau#formula 1 social media au#f1 social media au#social media au imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 headcanon#formula 1 drabble#formula 1 one shot#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 headcanon#f1 drabble#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 x reader#lance stroll#lance stroll imagine#lance stroll drabble#lance stroll headcanon#lance stroll one shot#lance stroll fluff#lance stroll smau#lance stroll x reader
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
summer samba - oscar piastri
summary: jenson button's daughter, y/n, is very well known around the paddock, and when her dad loses a bet, she finds herself spending more time in the mclaren garage
a/n: no face claim, imagine y/n as you wish. also i know jenson is only 44, but imagine he's older for the sake of this fic - and that y/n is 22
liked by danielricciardo, pierregasly, and 43, 218 others ynbutton fernando pls win this weekend, i have a bet with my dad
fernandoalo_oficial I will try just for you liked by ynbutton
user50 y/n is so inconic
landonorris Okayyyyyy fit
ynbutton okurrrrr
danielricciardo No bet on me winning?
ynbutton i'll bet on u next week i promise
user82 Her dad is Jenson Button and she gets to be best friends with the drivers Y/N I WANT YOUR LIFEEE
liked by oscarpiastri, ynbutton, and 153, 982 others jackdoohan FP1 in Canada LFGGGGG tagged: alpinef1team & ynbutton
ynbutton LETS FUCKING GOOOOO
jackdoohan WOOOOOO
user66 are they dating?
user82 Nah just friends I think
danielricciardo My son 👨🍼 liked by jackdoohan
user92 You're so fine jack pls i need u
user42 jack and y/n would be such a cute couple
user90 ya'll say this about every driver y/n interacts with
liked by ynbutton, astonmartinf1, and 2, 822, 397 others f1 HE'S DONE IT! FERNANDO ALONSO WINS HIS FIRST GRAND PRIX SINCE 2013! tagged: fernandoalo_oficial & astonmartinf1
user63 THE ROOKIE HAS DONE IT AGAINNNNN
user98 best rookie oat ngl
ynbutton YES YES YES EAT SHIT @ jensonbutton
user82 Y/n really loves her bets huh
jensonbutton @ user82 She does unfortunately.
astonmartinf1 💚🤍
user98 alonso dominance could bore fans
liked by f1, ynbutton, and 128, 985 others jensonbutton So happy for you @ fernandoalo_oficial, I never once doubted you for a second.
ynbutton yes you did. u called me ridiculous for betting on him p1
jensonbutton Don't expose me
user98 So what do you owe Y/N?
jensonbutton $300 and Mclaren Paddock passes apparently
fernandoalo_oficial Y/N told me about the bet, extra motivation 🤣 liked by jensonbutton
liked by landonorris, mclaren, and 1, 288, 763 others oscarpiastri Disappointed that I couldn't get more points for the team, but there's plenty to learn and grow from. Congratulations @ fernandoalo_oficial, proud of you brother 👊
mclaren We keep pushing 🧡
ynbutton head up osc! i'll be cheering you on next race
oscarpiastri Thanks y/n 🩷
user77 @ oscarpiastri okay why are we lowkey robbed on y/n x op81 content
fernandoalo_oficial ♥️
view ynbutton's story...
liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and 47, 229 others ynbutton Montreal I love uuuuuu #eatshitdad tagged: georgerussell63, jensonbutton & roscoelovescoco
lewishamilton I think you spend more time with Roscoe than with me...
ynbutton what can i say 🤷 roscoe's cuter than u
user69 Y/N AND GEORGE YES I HAVENT SEEN THEM IN SO LONG!!
user92 ur dad is beekeeping age
jensonbutton What does this mean?
oscarpiastri Looking good y/n
user98 wait lowkey i want them together
view ynbutton's story...
liked by mclaren, oscarpiastri, and 62, 879 others ynbutton thanks for the passes @ jensonbutton tagged: mclaren
mclaren Let's get you in some papaya liked by ynbutton
oscarpiastri Modelling in front of the right garage 👌👌
ynbutton i'll be cheering you on!!
landonorris Hmmmm
user93 someone decode this rn
user33 AHHH UR SO PRETTYYY
user25 wyd if i say that y/n and oscar SHOULD be a couple??
landonorris Throwing up I think
liked by mclaren, ynbutton, and 2, 365, 873 others landonorris Stuck in third all week (P3 in quali, the race and now I'm a third wheel) tagged: mclaren, oscarpiastri, ynbutton
mclaren Yeah but you're our favourite third 🧡
user03 admin this could mean MANY things
oscarpiastri You've been with me all week??
landonorris Uh huh, and the girl you won't shut up about
user59 why u so fine
user83 Not lando exposing oscar 😭
user97 OH MY GOD YNOSCAR TRUTHERS RISEEE
user34 Who are you third wheeling?
liked by user55, user87, and 23, 877 others user49 any else noticed that ever since the montreal gp, oscar has like really made an effort to befriend fernando, jack, and liam... who all coincidentally are VERY close with y/n button. just saying 😏
landonorris oscar u ain't slick
user65 OH MY GOD LANDO WHATTATTATA
user44 lando commenting is all the proof i need
user59 somebody sedate me i need a ynoscar interaction
user98 Lando pls play matchmaker xx
user87 OSCAR JUST ASK HER OUT OMD
liked by jackdoohan, landonorris, and 54, 120 others ynbutton oh yeah babyyyy
jensonbutton Who is that Y/N?
ynbutton don't worry about it dad 🤫
user87 woah normal y/n post BOOM SOFT LAUNCH
liamlawson30 Another photo dump I don't make smh
ynbutton shushhhh
user11 oscar perhaps
landonorris Who is that sexy man
ynbutton that's a daniel ricciardo plush toy. landonorris ynbutton Oh shut up
user64 y/n is such vibes i love her
liked by jackdoohan, ynbutton, and 1, 473, 861 others oscarpiastri YEAH BABYYYYY P22222
landonorris Wettt
user92 excuse me
mclaren Proud of you Oscar 🫂
user48 PRETTY MUCH THE SAME CAPTION AS Y/N AHHH
ynbutton p22222 out of 20 cars is rlly bad sorry babes x
oscarpiastri No you're lying nooooo
user81 oh he's defos posted this as a thirst trap for y/n liked by oscarpiastri
view ynbutton's story...
caption: ya'll do i keep him
view oscarpiastri's story...
caption: I think she likes them 💐
liked by landonorris, liamlawson30, and 1, 290, 822 others oscarpiastri She said that I lose aura points if I admit that I had a crush on her for over four years??? tagged: ynbutton
landonorris FOUR YEARS? it's worse than I thought
ynbutton he willingly bought that shirt btw!
oscarpiastri Would you rather I take it off? ynbutton oscarpiastri you know what i rather 😉
jackdoohan And to think that you actually wanted to be my friend liked by oscarpiastri
jensonbutton I knew it @ fernandoalo_oficial pay up
ynbutton YOU BETTED ON THIS??? fernandoalo_oficial ynbutton We bet on everything
liked by jackdoohan, oscarpiastri, and 81, 844 others ynbutton do i lose aura points if i admit that the only reason i wanted mclaren paddock passes was to see my crush of five years 😢
landonorris FIVE YEARS?? IT DOES GET WORSE
oscarpiastri Yes you do
ynbutton shut up
user93 YNOSCAR GIRLES WE UPPP
liamlawson30 SO YOU FINALLY ADMIT THAT YOU LIKED HIM FOR THAT LONG I FUCKING KNEW IT
ynbutton i WILL attack you liam
oscarpiastri She also bought this shirt willingly
user22 i just want what they have
hey guys!! let me know if you liked this hehe. WHO'S EXCITED FOR THE EUROS EEEE?? anyways thank you all so much for your support, my reqs are open so feel free to drop anything in there :)
#oscar piastri#oscar piastri smau#oscar piastri fanfic#oscar piastri x you#oscar piastri imagine#oscar piastri fluff#oscar piastri x reader#op81 fluff#op81 imagine#op81 x reader#op81 fic#op81#formula 1 x reader#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 fic#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1#f1 2024#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula one x y/n#formula one x oc#formula one#formula one x you#formula one x reader#mclaren
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
viva las vegas
max verstappen - team principal au
tags: smut/pwp, team principal au, tp!max, driver!reader, age gap (20s/40s), massages, vaginal fingering, intimacy & affection, doggy style
a/n: happy las vegas gp weekend!
max remembered vegas not-so kindly. or rather he remembered the hangovers of las vegas not-so kindly. it was where things heated up depending on a driver's standing. for many years max simply smiled and waved through another race, he always kept a heavy margin between him and other drivers in the points department.
plus he had to give it to the americans, they really knew how to make their races quite the spectacle. and las vegas was no different than miami at the start of the season and austin only a little while earlier. even now as a team principal, he enjoyed the occasional cigarette on a balcony of a hotel room. except this year his head was flooded with less technical information and more the sight of his beloved star driver.
you.
you huffed with your arms crossed after media day. you wore a pout so prettily, it was real princess behavior. and where you were standing right now, you were on your rightful throne at the top of the leader board.
"i don't get why we have to do these last three races. i have this in the bag, i am over a hundred points ahead of the next driver." you pointed in a general direction as you complained to your boss, "this is stupid, give me the wdc and we can all go home."
you were tired. of course you were, he was tired too. the entire team was tired. hell, everyone from top to bottom was tired.
max put his hands on his hips. he tilted his head to the side and exhaled, "treasure." he was a little sympathetic. he remembered being ragged by mid-october, the fact you were only falling apart at the last few races was impressive, "i know, it feels like the victory is being dragged on. that we are just wasting time." he reached out for you and cupped your face with such affection, "but, think about how much you could make that margin grow.' he had both hands on your face. you were in private so he could be a little closer.
you looked up at him with such sad eyes, "it feels anti-climatic."
max smiled, "that's the price you pay you when you're just leagues ahead of them. if you don't race for the points this weekend. then race for home, race for your family... and race for me." his smile grew, "i want to watch the shock on mclaren's face when they see what they missed out on." he chuckled lightly, "the offers you would get from everyone."
you said, "don't think i'm trying to leave verstappen racing." you pouted a little more.
max felt something tug in his chest but he kept his smile, it was endearing to hear those words. that you weren't going to up and leave him. even if your contract was three years, teams had lawyers to the teeth that could easily wrangle you into their grasp. but you had no interest in that. he kissed your forehead, "how about you come to my hotel room tonight, i'll help you relax. make the weekend a little more fun."
it wasn't burdensome to go to max's room. it was often right beside yours. even if the rest of the team were on the other side of the floor. you nodded and let max kiss you in the privacy of the little corner you found yourself in.
max watched you walk through his hotel room, in nothing but an over-sized garishly pink dolly parton shirt. you were bent over at the bar fridge to take a healthy shot of gin and let the shiver run through you. he chuckled into his drink and said, "let's get you a glass for that, treasure." before he got up from the couch, "oh better yet, let's take it easy on the alcohol. you're driving tomorrow." then crossed the room to take the bottle from your hand. he dipped his nose into the back of your neck and said, "how about we find other ways to relax tonight. something that won't kill you come morning"
you looked over at him and frowned, "i could not race tomorrow and i'd still win it all" and leaned into max's touch as he took you by the chin. you turned to look at him fully and crossed your arms.
"i know, being on top does get boring. but why don't i help. after all, that is my job." he held you in his arms and admired you the way someone would admire a beautiful piece of art. you were inclined to melt into his touch. uncrossed your arms and hugged him when your head against his chest.
"i wish there was more a chase for this victory." you huffed. the perfect driver, the perfect car, the perfect team and the perfect boss. it was all to easy.
he chuckled and kissed you, "please, don't get hung up on that. think about what it would mean to have a woman have such a clear victory." he held you, "no splitting hairs with your victory. think about what you could do." he smiled at you.
you held onto the front of his t-shirt and sighed, "i know, i know. first woman and all, but... i wish there was more of a fight."
max smiled, he knew the feeling well as he tenderly held you. he kissed your forehead lovingly before he said, "why don't we forget about that. and no more alcohol." then led you to the grand bedroom of the room. he sat on the bed and admired you.
in the over sized shirt and cotton panties. nothing special, but max ate up every last bit of it. the idea that he got the see you like this. he knew that men thirsted over you. fans that couldn't get it through their head that you'd never be with them.
you were just voted the more eligible bachelor(ette) of formula one. max got a kick out of seeing that when he read in on the way to the track. single, huh? that was news to him. not while you were tangled up in max's love like a spiderweb.
"do you want it off, sir?" you asked as you played with the hem. he had to admit, but up close, he sort of liked the t-shirt. the pink looked good on you. but he liked what was under it even more. men could thirst all they want, but none of them could have you.
not while max was still breathing. he pressed his face up against your middle, he sighed, "yeah, take it off. i want to see everything." everything that belongs to me. the unspoken words. he helped you get the shirt off.
he admired your body, dressed in cotton panties and a sports bra with thick straps. he licked his lips as he went back to kissing your stomach before you ended up on the bed next to him. you helped him out of his clothes just as he did for you. his lips found your heated skin and you arched your back a little at the feeling. it excited you.
"please, sir." you said as his large hands roamed your body, it left you feeling excited all over and touched you. you felt like heaven under his palms you moaned into another heated kiss and let him touch you as he so desired.
"you're perfect for me." he said as he kissed your neck, "perfect in ways i can't even put words to. you remind me of such beauty that it would be a crime for me to deny myself your warmth." he looked at you with those blue eyes, they read so much as he held you tightly, "that's why i want you to win, win, win. when they doubted you, i never did. and i'll continue to never doubt you. i want them to wipe those grins off their faces and see what you are a threat on the track."
you felt your heart flutter as you said, "oh max." before you pulled him into another hot kiss. when he pulled away, he got you onto your back and admired the strength in your back. he licked his lips and you could feel his hot gaze.
"quite the beauty." he said softly before he started to put those strong hands to work. you moaned into the covers and arched your back when he rubbed the skin. he groaned a little bit, his cock twitched at full attention as he massaged your body, "but you need to relax. i know, i want you at your best. but you can't be so wound up. it'll only make you a worse driver." he leaned into your and whispered in your ears, "i know you want to defeat them, make them whimper." his voice hot against your ear.
you whined, "please, max. sir!" you arched your back a little bit, or at least tried to. but he kept you pinned to the bed and continued to rub at your skin.
"i'd do anything to make you win." he said quietly, "i know you're my champion." he moved down your back and you whimpered when he hit spots that made your eyes roll back a little. you looked cute squirming like that. under him beautifully.'
you gasped when he eventually slipped two fingers inside of your soaked pussy and thrusted them slowly as he held you by the small of your back onto the bed. you gasped and arched your back with sexual want as he fingered you. you buried your face into the covers and whined, "max!"
it was music to his ears, he loved it. he loved you. you didn't know how many rules max had to bend for you. he was painfully committed to you, he adored you in ways that he could never say with words. you whined a little bit as he fingered you and he felt the heat in his belly as he played with your pussy.
"there we go. nice and relaxed, perfect for the upcoming race. i know you'll be a good girl for me. right? you'll race perfectly and then we'll come back to this hotel room with more points under your belt and i'll fuck you right up against the window. let all of las vegas see their weekend's star." his voice was filthy, tinged with a heated want. his cock was painfully hard.
he fingered you for a little while long before he pulled out the digits and licked the wetness off of them. but you weren't going to go without for long, not on max's watch. soon he was behind you, with your hips raised as he sank his cock into you.
the future champion felt good around his cock, beautiful in a way that he could taste it on the tip of his tongue. you felt like heaven as he started to rock his hips against you.
he knew you were the best, you were always the best. almost a perfect season, except for a few hiccups here and there. but, those were all ironed out. now he had big hopes for your future racing. racing with his team. he wanted to see you in the lion logo for years to come. and when your eventual retirement came, you'd be working alongside him as his wife. even carrying his last name couldn't keep you away from the track and max would be a fool to force you away from it (except for maybe nine months). he continued to move against you, he watched your ass bounce from his movements as he fucked you.
"shit, max." you whined. you wanted to win so badly, you wanted to be the world champion. you wanted to stick it in the faces of those who doubted you. other drivers, other teams, even your own father. who would have preferred you married a driver rather than be on. but max saw the future in your eyes, you'd be the world champion. and you believed in max. even when he was fucking you with a feverish pace that left you seeing stars and panting into the covers.
max kissed your back as he moved against you. he felt the heat through his body as he worked his cock inside of you. he felt the swell of affection towards you, he felt the heat course through his body. he needed you deeply, he needed you in ways that he never needed another.
"you're insatiable." you sighed as you felt yourself get fucked further into the bed. you gasped a little deeper into the covers as the two of you moved together. you felt the hammering in your chest.
"you feel amazing. i can't help myself." max groaned as he battered your sweet pussy with an insatiable want. he couldn't help himself, that was the god's honest truth. he yearned for you in deeper ways, he wanted to be connected to you in every way he could.
"please, max. i can't get enough of this. you feel so good, you know how to make me good." you groaned through the heat through your body. you pleasure coursed through your body, this was amazing. it was always amazing to be with him. especially when max combed his fingers through your hair and he continued to move against you with a heated want.
"you feel amazing in return, beautiful. my treasure. something i got out of the rough, shined you to your full potential." he hissed through a tense jaw as he continued to fuck you. you moved against him quickly and it made him gasp for more.
max licked his dry lips. the pleasure coursed through his body, it was a throb in his head as he thrusted up against you. he tensed up for a moment when he felt the heat only grow in his core. he really couldn't help himself. he knew that this wasn't exactly the sanest thing to do, fuck a his driver. but when a figure like yours and a winning streak that left him hot and bothered. it would a crime not to claim you as his. you wore his hickies under your collar and his logo over your heart. you were undeniable. you made racing fun for him.
he kissed you back once more, his pace started to stagger. the heat continued to fuel his body. he could hear your heated pants as you felt close to your orgasm. he held onto you tightly and fucked you through a powerful climax.
"i don't want anyone else." you panted in the heat of pleasure. you tensed up for a moment before you relaxed, your hands curled in the sheets as you muttered curses under your breath in your mother tongue.
max continued his heavy thrusts and came inside of you. he slowed his pace to a stop and kissed your back. he whispered sweet nothings against you before he pulled out slowly. you both laid out beside one another and he pulled you into his grasp.
he kissed your heated cheeks and sighed contently against your skin, "there, ready for the weekend?" he asked.
you pulled away to look at his flushed expression. blissed out from sexual heat, you gave him a small smile as you said, "well, if you keep the orgasms coming. i'll be more than happy to widen the points gap." then yelped when he got you onto your back. his heavy kisses soon trailed down heated skin.
you decided right then and there that you got very lucky in vegas.
-
a few weeks later in abu dhabi, you hoisted your final trophy of the season over your head. you were damn near tears as you claimed another victory. like you did in las vegas, then qatar and finally abu dhabi. max felt tears in his eyes as if he was winning the victory too.
you became the best, just like max promised. his driver, his star, his champion.... his future wife. <3
#bunny writes#reader insert#formula 1#formula one imagine#f1 smut#formula one smut#formula one fanfiction#f1 x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen smut#max verstappen#mv33 x reader#mv1 x reader#mv1 smut#mv33 smut#mv33#mv1#las vegas gp 2024#las vegas grand prix
644 notes
·
View notes
Text
Oh Captain, My Captain | James Potter x Reader
Marauders Masterlist / Inbox
Summary: James discovers a new kink
Content Warnings/Tags: smut, like a lot, mdni, established relationship,no use of y/n, basically porn with fluff, one (1) swear word, only slightly proofread
Word Count: 2.5k
A/n: Filth that I've had in my head for ages and finally spend all night writing because I'm dopamine deficient
James never really understood good luck charms, believing dedication and hard work were what always made the difference, but from the moment you had jokingly brought up being his, he’d been convinced. Because he loved having you at his games, even before you had started going out, at one point in the game or another he’d always try and spot you in the crowd, looking over the stands in search of you. And of course you were here today as well, but the moment he saw you in the crowds his heart dropped. He had to blink to make sure his eyes weren’t deceiving him, because there you were, wearing his sweater. It was such a trivial thing, yet couldn’t stop himself from staring, staring at you and the way you were cheering the team on. The house colours had always suited you so well, you’d even borrowed his sweaters before, but this, this was nothing like that. This was his sweater, the one he had tossed down on his bed earlier, opting for his jersey instead, the one with his name embroidered on it, the one with the captain patch sewed on, and he was struggling to take his eyes off you. The only reason he ended up doing so was because Marlene quite literally knocked him back into reality as they crossed paths. It caused her to lose the quaffle she had been holding, further resulting in her telling him to ‘fucking focus’.
Right; focus. This was the championship game against Hufflepuff, he had to focus. He was the team captain after all, he shouldn't be slacking about, but his mind simply kept wondering back to that title currently adorning you as well. It was like it had awoken something in him that was buried so deep down he hadn’t even known it was there himself, something so feral he hadn’t even known to look for it, but there it was, and it was only by some sort of miracle he hadn’t enswd screwing up the entire match, because they had, in fact, won. That it was a close call chalked he up as a problem for later.
After a win he’d usually be ecstatic, running to meet up with his teammates as he’d land, spurring them on with cheer. But right now as his feet finally met the ground he simply went past everyone as he told them he had to go. He decided to take a beeline for the changing rooms, concluding he was in dire need of a long, cold shower. But as he felt the stream hit him, all he could think about was dragging you under the water with him, about letting his hands roam free against your every curve. And the more he thought about it, the more he could almost feel it, feel how your clothes would stick skin tight to you, feel your red and gold painted nails scratch paths down his back. He loved the marks you’d leave, would treasure them like his own private art collection. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much more time to think about it as Frank knocked on the stall door, letting him know they were all headed back to the common room to celebrate.
So he got dressed to head back to the castle as well. Maybe a walk with fresh air would clear his head. It wasn’t the thought itself that bothered him, he was used to those. What bothered him was their origin, because that was something new entirely. James was used to being so sickingly sweet in even the smallest of things that your friends once banned him from touching you for an entire weekend as punishment, which had been all too entertaining to everyone but him. He liked to gently coax you back onto his bed and make sure there wasn't a centimetre of your skin he hadn't touched. He’d pay close attention to every small change in your breathing, and he’d let his ears feast on the moans he’d etch from you. This wasn’t what was normally stuck on his mind after a big game, but somehow he couldn't think about winning margins if his life depended on it. The only thing stuck on his mind was you.
There you stood, in the middle of the room as he entered. You were surrounded by your friends, hands raised high with shot glasses in praise of tonight's victory. He wondered what your lips would taste like from the cherry vodka you’d like to drink, the liquor usually intoxicating both of you. And usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to go and find out, but something told him that once he started, he wouldn’t be able to stop, and this was not exactly the right place for that. So he silently slipped into the room, finding a table of drinks and getting himself a glass of fire whiskey that he drank as fast as he poured it.
As he went to stand next to you, placing his hand down onto your hip, you spun around to greet him, reaching up and kissing him before he could get himself to stop you. And when you pulled back he found himself chasing the feeling, chasing that something that tasted like more.
From that moment on, all he could do was stand there, zoned out, as he tried to listen to what everyone was saying, but all it was to him was background noise. He wondered if it would be considered rude to simply leave without saying a word, he wondered how much longer he had to stay for it not to be. But he suddenly got snapped back when heard a burst of cheers coming from his left side. And as he looked over he could see why, you were standing on one of the coffee tables with Marlene, dancing on top of it with her. As he tuned back in he heard Lay All Your Love on Me playing, he knew you could never resist this song.
Your hips were going along with it in a way he thought should be considered sinful, and he was surely going to hell for the way he was staring. Marlene was nothing short of an accomplice to the crime, she was holding you so close it almost made him jealous. No, not almost, it definitely made him jealous. He had seen you two dance to this song countless times, so why did it bother him now as Marlene dropped onto her knees in front of you when the chorus hit.
As soon as it ended he coaxed you down next to him, catching you in his arms as you stumbled down. But before you could make another move he was prompting you towards the stairs, determined as he walked up to the dorm rooms with you. You weren’t used to seeing him so quiet, to how pensive he was acting. The silence in between you was so thick you didn’t dare break it either, not until you reached the bedroom and he closed the door behind you.
“James what’s going on-”
“You’re wearing my sweater.” It was more of a statement than anything else, and it made you unsure of how to respond, but not wanting to leave him unanswered with how solemnly he was staring at your face you did so anyway, even if it was just rambling.
“I thought it’d bring extra luck, I found it on your bed, I should've asked, I can go change-”
But right then he stopped your spiralling immediately, pushing you further against the door, trapping you against it. “Don’t you dare take it off.” You could see the fire behind his eyes now, feel the dominance that was seeping off him tonight, and that’s when all of a sudden, for you, it made sense. It was new, sure, but it was obvious, and it made you wonder how far you could push him until he’d break.
“So make me stop.” It was such a childish sentiment, but it did the trick. And you weren’t entirely sure how you had expected him to react, but James didn’t waste another second before he connected his lips with yours, clashing against you as he did.
It wasn’t the usual tender-hearted James you were used to, it was a fever dream rush of movement, and from the moment he got what he had been craving after all night, he was insatiable about it. He started to trail kisses down your neck, practically biting a path down to your chest, he let his hands palm over the back of your legs, he made his way over every part of you he could find quick access to. And so you weren’t surprised when he hoisted you up his body so he could walk down to the bed, throwing you down on it the moment he reached it.
He created only a small window of time when stripping himself of his shirt, grabbing your ankles to pull you closer, finding your lips once again. He didn’t let any further time pass before trailing his hands down over thighs, starting to feel how slick they already were as he got higher up.
“You like this don’t you darling, you like seeing me riled up?” His face was harsher than usual, clenched together from the self-control he had to keep all night, and it was certainly doing things to you. It didn’t take much longer for his fingers to find your clit, already rubbing circles onto it as he used his other hand to rid himself of his trousers. His gaze was still focused on you, watching you with more determination than you had ever seen in him before. You were looking back at him with hooded eyes, gasping as he mercilessly continued, your head falling back as you saw him free his cock. He was as desperate as you were, but he was clearly better at masking it, and you were about to plead as he gave you exactly what you wanted. He lined himself up, pushing all the way inside in one, fast, thrust.
There wasn’t a build-up, there wasn’t any hesitation as he simply pulled all the way out, before fully pumping himself back in, setting an agonisingly fast pace that you slowly started to get addicted to. And he keeps giving it to you for a bit longer before he abruptly stops. It makes you open your eyes again to see him, seeing the clogs turn through his eyes as he drops your legs from his grasp before bringing an arm under your back and flipping you so he’s lying on the bed.
You already know exactly what he wants, anchoring yourself with a hand on his chest as you sit up, straddling him, sinking down onto him. This time you try and force your eyes to stay open, determined to see how his eyes roll to the back of his head, even though the pleasure is overwhelming you as well. As you start to move back and forth you can feel him even deeper than before, but you can’t quite set the same pace as him, and once his eyes find their focal point on you, when he roams his eyes over your figure and over the sweater you still had on, you can see his gaze turn dark again. His hands move from where they had settled just above your ass to find a firm grip on your hips instead, forcefully moving them to go faster, finding that same brutal pace from earlier. You can feel his muscles flexing at the action and the combination of it all is starting to turn your body numb from the pleasure, luckily for you, he’s learned to read you like a book by now.
“Let go for me, honey.” It’s a whisper, and you’re surprised at how clear you can hear it with how hazy everything else is right now. And as he feels you cumming a feral groan finds its way up from deep within his chest, and you didn’t know he could, but he starts to move even faster. The only thing your mind is capable of at the moment is to mumble pleas and moan his name like a mantra, you’re not sure how much longer you can take it but you don’t dare asking him to stop either. You can feel how close he is, how desperate he has become for the release. The muscles in his abdomen tense up, his jaw clenched impossibly tight and you recognize his rushed breathing pattern. He doesn’t make you wait much longer before you can feel him spilling into you, unending profanities and prayers of your name leaving him as he does.
And for the first time since you entered the room there is a moment of simply nothing, you relax to find a comfortable position laying down on him, tangling your limbs together on pure instinct. You could swear you zoned out for a minute or two, but now you can feel him trace patterns down your arm, a habit of his that could lull you right to sleep, but you know the night is still young.
“You wanna head back down to celebrate your championship?” You’re sure your friends are in the middle of some muggle drinking game you’d easily be able to join, but James declines the offer.
“Sweetheart, this right here is reward enough for me” You know he means it too, that he’s made it back to his golden hearted self, but per usual, you can't help but taunt him
“Whatever you say, Captain.” The sarcasm in your statement is thick, but as you say it you can see his pupils expanding, his breathing becoming a bit more shallow as you feel him become hard again. He flips you over once more, caging you between his arms as he looks straight into your eyes.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish darling” You’re pulling at his strings again, and you hadn’t done so on purpose, but you’re enjoying it immensely.
“Oh I have every intent on finishing Jamie." At your words James ducks down into another heated kiss, moving one of his hands to finally take his sweater off you, a mischievous grin on his face as he trails his way down your body.
“As your Captain, I suppose I should help you with that.” You’d make another remark back if you weren’t already so lost in pleasure again. He’d made his way down to your cunt, eating you out with a fervor that made you moan out for him as your fingers found their way into his hair. The night was definitely still young, and as the party downstairs continued to drown out the noises you were making, you weren’t planning on making it end anytime soon either.
#james potter x reader#james potter x you#james potter x y/n#james potter smut#the marauders#marauders#marauders x y/n#marauders x reader#marauders x you#smut#fluff#james potter fluff#james potter fic#james potter fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#marauders era#james potter imagine#james potter blurb
692 notes
·
View notes
Text
Orange, Baby!
Rise Ramblings #316
When I think about Mikey, this scene always comes to mind.
As soon as they step foot in the library to save Mayhem, Angelo instantly disqualifies himself…hilariously.
On first watch, I found it interesting that he made this decision with no hesitation, especially given the stakes.
At the time I just resigned to him being a silly silly boy, but now I know better.
Yet, before we get ahead of ourselves, let’s explore who Mikey is.
Michelangelo Hamato is the youngest turtle in the family, and it shows.
Consequently, he seems to possess a certain “youngest brother privilege" that his other brothers just can’t help but reinforce. This is the role that Mikey was born into. Therefore, he doesn’t have to push himself to be the smartest, or cleverest, or strongest turtle.
Instead, he decides to be the artist of the family. He’s a creative! He expresses himself everywhere, from stickers on his own shell, to tagging the lair, as well as on paper. The world is his canvas!
Michelangelo also expresses himself in virtually everything he does, so it’s easy to understand why he’s the most open, honest, caring, and emotionally expressive turtle of the bunch. To some it could be seen as a weakness, yet Mikey uses his emotional intelligence as a pillar of strength, of which he utilizes to uphold his brothers when they need support the most.
In the show, Michelangelo often takes on certain personas; Doctor Feelings and Doctor Delicate Touch. (For some reason, they are all doctors, but that’s beside the point.)
At first glance, the personas could be seen as silly bouts of make-believe. But I think that placing these roles upon himself for his brothers' sake is Michelangelo’s way of helping them cope with the world by offering them what they each individually lack.
For instance, Raph, Leo, and Donnie have trouble voicing their discomforts when someone does something they don’t like.
In other words, they have trouble putting their foot down.
But here is Mikey to the rescue!
Dr. Delicate Touch has no such hang-ups.
Similarly, when Donatello runs into trouble, as he is unable to recognize his own emotions, it’s up to Doctor Feelings to help his desperate client in need.
Through taking on these roles, Mikey is able to support his brothers and fill the emotional gaps in his teammates, which, inevitably makes them all stronger.
How is Mikey able to do this and how does he have the strength to take on these roles?
You could think that it’s just in his character, meaning, it’s just how he is. I don’t think so, though. He’s a free thinker, and a creative, but there’s something about these roles that is specifically catered to the needs of his family.
Then I realized, the only reason that Mikey is able to help his brothers in this way is because they first helped him.
Let me explain.
All four of the boys grew up in the same household. Although Splinter tried his very best (there is no Splinter hate here), a single depressed parent doth not a stable child make. Raphael struggled with the burden of his responsibilities as an ad hoc leader (see Being Big Red), Leo struggled with expressing his natural talents as a middle child (see Being Baby Blue), all while Donnie struggled with carving out his place on the team and his feelings of uselessness (see Being Purple Part One and Part Two).
Well, what does Mikey struggle with?
In my humble opinion, nothing.
The struggles of his brothers all related to each turtle coming to terms with themselves and coming to terms with their place on the team.
Yet, due to the love and support of his brothers and father, Michelangelo never had to ask himself if he belonged, struggle with his role on the team, or make huge life-changing decisions that could affect everyone.
Michelangelo is free to just be Michelangelo.
And as a free spirit who is completely in tune with his own emotions, he is able to do things like this:
and this,
and this.
Let’s get back to the scene in the library.
Angelo sees the high stakes of his friend’s pet disappearing forever if they fail but makes the decision to disqualify himself anyway. Why? Because he knows that no matter what he does, it will all be ok.
He has complete faith in his brothers and their ability to solve the problem at hand, so he might as well have some fun.
This not the first time he’s come to this conclusion.
Through out this entire scene, Michelangelo plays in the background.
It’s scenes like this that makes me believe that Mikey’s faith in his family knows no bounds.
Altogether, his brothers and his father were everything he needed to become who he is. Reciprocally, he is free to be everything that they need him to be and more. Over…
and over,
and over again
he trusts them completely.
And through this unwavering trust in his family, he is able to trust himself and his instincts. He knows that with everything they’ve poured into him, he can save them from, well, everything. Over…
and over…
and over again.
Hence, due to all of this evidence, I believe that through the collective love of his family, Michelangelo became the best version of the Hamato spirit, and thus, the best Mystic Warrior of all time.
All because, he’s Orange, baby!
○○○○
Previous | Being Big Red • Being Baby Blue • Being Purple ○ Part One • Being Purple ○ Part Two
Finale | Being Hamato Yoshi
#phew!#this post has been a long time coming#thanks for sticking around!#🧡🧡🧡#starkiss ramblings#rise analysis#rottmnt analysis#character analysis#Michelangelo Ramblings#rise mikey#rise michelangelo#mikey#michelangelo#rottmnt michelangelo#michelangelo hamato#rottmnt#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise of the tmnt#tmnt2018#tmnt 2k18#tmnt 2018#save rottmnt#unpause rottmnt#unpause rise of the tmnt#save rise of the tmnt#save rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles
3K notes
·
View notes
Note
reading routine and seeing javi and wife watching kids tv after the kids are in bed made me chuckle so much but it’s so them!
I imagine they’re often sitting cuddled together looking at toys in catalogues trying to pick presents for kids birthdays or Christmas together.
In my head they genuinely enjoy this part of parenthood and getting to know they’re kids and their interests to be able to give them the best life !
Anything, a husband!Javier Christmas fic
Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator
A/N: Will you be upset that this is just pure smut? It definitely could have been more Christmassy but I promise it is a treat.
Summary: Someone interrupts picking out Christmas presents for your kids…
Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, domestic life, BANTER, couch sex, dry humping, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praises and pet names, rough sex, doggy, spanking, PHAT breeding kink, slightest dubcon, the messiest creampie in hubby history, comeplay, they are gross and in love, absolutely married to each other
Word count: 5.7k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61468969
Anything
“Are you ready yet?” Javier calls from the living room. He has finally gotten comfortable on the couch but you’re nowhere to be seen, and it makes him call out your name.
“Sorry! I’m here!” You rush into the living room from the kitchen, gaze fixed in concentration on a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hand. Javier admires you in one of his shirts, the hem sitting around your mid-thigh and letting him have a peek at your bare legs. He glances at his coffee on the table in front of the couch, then fondly at the bobbing marshmallows on top of your drink. You always have a sweet tooth during December, not able to resist the temptation of indulging in the many treats that Christmas brings. You gain too much weight, you always say, but Javier thinks you’re the sexiest thing in the world and it has little to do with what the scale in the bathroom says.
He watches you place the hot chocolate next to his coffee and crawl onto the seat next to him, legs tucked underneath yourself so you can lean into his side properly. The ritual has yet to begin, but you sigh a soft sigh to let him know you’re ready.
“Right,” Javier holds up the catalog in front of you both. He takes one last look at the two mugs on the coffee table, heart soft and content in his chest when he notices how well your respective drink fits you. You’re sweet and warm, a nice contrast to the unforgiving taste of coffee that’s hardly suitable for everyone’s palates.
“Something they want, something they need, something to wear and something to read,” you remind and recite to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. He feels his skin warm up there under his shirt, feels like he is lucky to have you seek subtle affection like this even though he is married to you.
“And 100 dollars each top, the spoiled brats,” he bites around the marker in order to take the cap off with his teeth, securing it at the base afterward. He flips the first page and the hunt has begun.
“Hey, those are my kids you’re talking about,” you nudge him playfully while scanning the page and it pulls a little chuckle from him, his heart fluttering at the way you pretend-scold him. It is like being teenagers who tease one another as a way of letting each other know that they like-like each other.
“You won’t be happy with our budget when we have a third,” he shrugs so the pages jump in front of your eyes. You pinch at the bottom of the page to hold it steady.
“This one,” you say and point to a Magic Tracks set, deliberately ignoring the words he has just dared to speak.
It makes him laugh properly now but he still circles the racetrack set in bright red Sharpie, “Ignoring that on purpose, huh?”
“After saying you want a whole soccer team, I think it’s only proof of my sanity that I ignore you, Peña,” you say and flip a few pages, a little smile playing on your lips despite acting nonchalant.
He scans the pages with you and circles a tea set made of plastic, “Your husband has Christmas wishes too.”
“Oh, this one’s perfect for Inés’ farm animals,” you tap the page, and he murmurs something about how his daughter will love it. You raise a brow when he lays the catalog out across your laps, moving the free hand to rest on your thigh. You tut, “Well, my husband should let Santa know of these wishes then.”
“Santa doesn’t know me like you do,” Javier squeezes the plumpness of your thigh. He leans in to brush his lips across the spot just behind your ear. God, you smell so good that his cock twitches, “Besides, Santa already agrees I don’t need a fucking thing under the tree. Solo tú (just you).”
You yank the Sharpie out of his hand with an exaggerated sigh of disapproval yet you tilt your head so he can drown in your perfume, “Swearing now? You’ll end up on the naughty list.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he is the one to put his head on your shoulder now, “And you should know; you’re usually the one who puts me there.”
You pull back so he has to sit up straight again. He doesn’t acknowledge your glare even when it doesn’t have any malice in it, just reaches for his coffee to have a sip.
You use the same sternness with him as you do with your children but from the way your breath shifts slightly, he knows you’re trying to hide how close you are to giving him what he wants, “I don’t know what you’re implying but you’re not getting it.”
“Oh, I’m getting it,” he says in a raspy murmur, a smirk on his face as he watches your flustered face over the rim of his coffee mug. You flip through a few more pages with forced concentration, but eventually, even you have to admit that you’re getting distracted.
You look up at him with exasperation, the Sharpie pointing at him, “Javi.”
“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love)?” He takes another sip of coffee.
“I need to finish this. I want Christmas to be perfect…” You pout a little and he yearns to kiss you until you giggle, “So I need you to focus.”
“Lo siento (I’m sorry), your husband’s gonna behave now,” he reaches out with his free hand and rubs your back gently. This means a lot to you, he realizes and feels a little bad for how he is ruining it. He sets his coffee back on the table and takes your mug of hot chocolate, exchanging it for the Sharpie once more. You take a small sip but decide that it’s still too hot for your tongue.
“Right,” he says in the same manner as when the both of you started this, setting aside his excitement to make you happy. He talks while you place your mug beside his again, “Inés has an obsession with those horse toys. My Little Ponies? We should get something a little more expensive for those and the tea set.”
You light up at his engagement. He knows this is when you love him the most, and you turn back a few pages to point to a miniature stable, “She’ll adore this.”
“She’ll lose her little mind,” he agrees and circles the horse stable. Out of the corner of his eye, he can feel your gaze lingering on him just long enough to let him know that your own concentration is fading.
“Concentration, baby, I need it from you,” he taunts playfully when you’re halfway through the toy catalog together but you have gone quiet despite your thoughts being very loud. Javier smiles to himself, unable to not feel flattered by how his fatherhood is turning you on.
“I am concentrating. Luke wants a scooter but I need him to have a helmet and pads,” you shift a little bit in your spot, pausing briefly and sighing to gain his attention, “I was just thinking—“
“Don’t brag,” he interrupts cockily to make you stick out your tongue.
“Can I finish my sentence, Peña?” You click your tongue at him in disapproval afterward, “I was thinking that if you finish this - no shenanigans - you could get a little reward.”
That piques his interest, “What are we talking here? Enlighten your husband.”
“I thought that maybe,” you trail off, flicking through the next few pages to nearly make him toss the catalog aside and claim you right now. You pick the Sharpie from his hand and circle a remote-controlled dinosaur, “Maybe when we finish this, I’ll let you do whatever you want.”
Blood rushes south so fast in Javier’s body that his head starts to spin. He can feel his cock come to life at the thought of the endless possibilities that the words whatever you want bring, and a thousand ideas come to him at once.
“Anything?” He asks as if he is unaffected but his cock has gone hard for you in an instant, straining uncomfortably against the seam of his jeans and begging for relief.
“Mhm, yup, anything,” you hum softly, sitting there calmly and flipping through the catalog as if you didn’t just drop the most dangerous line. He shifts subtly in his seat to adjust his erection, hoping that you don’t notice anything but out of the corner of his eye, he spots the way your mouth curls into a knowing smirk.
“Careful, baby,” you tease without looking up from the BABY Born doll on the page, “You might lose focus.”
“I’m focused,” he only just manages without letting the strain on his voice reveal him. He gives an exasperated chuckle, “Just not on the toys.”
“I said only when we finish this,” you glance at his lap and he throbs even more at being found out. Then you count the pages with quick fingers, “And we’ve got ten more pages to go.”
It takes a moment for him to regain his composure but eventually, he yanks the Sharpie out of your hand, his voice still sounds like a plea, “Let’s finish this then.”
By the time you reach the last page, Javier has been a good boy for the eternity it has taken for you to go through the entire catalog together. You even decided to go back and reevaluate a few of your choices just to taunt him, and by now he feels on the brink, can barely contain himself.
“Good boy,” you grin after he snaps the cap back onto the marker and tosses it onto the coffee table with a relieved sigh. You sit on your knees to lean in for a kiss that is way too sweet, “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”
You’re too cute for what is happening inside his head but then you confidently place a hand right on top of his clothed cock and whisper, and he knows you’re right there with him in his depravity, “Although this might be.”
He moans quietly and grabs your wrist the second you start to teasingly stroke him. All he can do is hear those three words - whatever you want - and when he starts to shift on the couch, your confidence wavers slightly.
Javier moves until he has you caged beneath his body but you don’t protest it, has allowed loads of raunchy make-out sessions like this. However, he has more in mind because he has already decided what he wants, has thought about it the whole time since you gave him a free pass to your body, but you don’t allow it anymore. Ever since Lucas - and Inés now too - started walking around the house unsupervised and thus into rooms unannounced, you have stressed that sex is to be kept within the four walls of your bedroom. It’s perfectly fine… if he didn’t have to pretend he doesn’t want you every time he looks at you.
Holding himself up with one hand and cupping your face with the other, he captures your mouth in a desperate kiss. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that this is so much more than just making out before you retire to your bedroom.
“Aquí no (not here),” you gasp into his mouth yet still hold onto him, mind and body working against each other.
“Aquí sí (yes here),” he murmurs against your lips, “And don’t pretend for a second that your panties aren’t soaked through at the idea. I want you right here, bent over the arm of the couch.”
“Javi, we can’t,” you shake your head with an eye on the path to the staircase where children could come stumbling down any moment, however still tipping your head back to allow his mouth to descend on your neck. He nibbles along your pulse point, inhaling deeply to breathe you in as he reaches where you’ve applied your sweet perfume in the morning.
“You smell so good. Merry Christmas to me,” he says instead of acknowledging your protest, the tip of his nose skimming along the column of your throat to reach the other side too. He grins, breathlessly chuckles, and grinds his hard and clothed cock into your thigh, “Oh fuck.”
“We should go to the bedroom,” you moan softly as he puts his thigh between your legs, forcing your t-shirt to crawl up along your thighs until your lace panties are exposed. He finds your gaze, smiling at the reveal of the hardly appropriate choice of underwear and the way your mouth falls open when he moves his leg slowly. He teases your covered clit with the fabric of his pant leg and sends electricity up your spine.
He watches your resolve crumble with every slow grind of his thigh between your legs. A tiny moan from your mouth sends his heart rate soaring and soon, both of your breaths are coming out faster.
“We’re not making it to the bedroom with how fast you’re coming right now,” he mumbles through concentrated breathing. You seem to know this already, your thighs tightening around his leg and your arms linking around his neck. He can feel your nails dig into his skin, and suddenly your hips are moving on their own accord. He presses more firmly against you to earn friction to his cock too, the rough denim of his jeans sitting tightly around his length. The fabric catches just right on your sensitive clit, and you try to be quiet about it but he can see how good it feels to you with how your brows furrow as you gasp his name.
He hasn’t had you like a fumbling teenager in so long but this - the urgency and clumsiness of acting like a dog in a rut on his couch - makes him feel alive in a way that his sex life hasn’t in a while. Parental responsibility has come (no pun intended) in the way of how he really wants you all the time, and where he used to have you on every surface in the house he paid for, he’s had to be good for too long. He is done being good.
Beneath him, your confidence has started to grow along with each roll of your hips, your orgasm is building. You look beyond stunning with your eyes fluttering closed, your body deep in pleasure, and your bottom lip between your teeth as you concentrate on how it feels.
He kisses underneath your jaw and tastes salty sweat, his hand going up under your t-shirt to grab your breast. He palms it at first but then skims his thumb around your already-hardened nipple, surprising you with a pinch. It has you hurtling toward an intense orgasm filled with exciting risks.
“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” you say just when you’ve moaned in unison. You reach down to grab his thigh, now rutting against him shamelessly as you chase pleasure.
“God, you’re stunning, my beautiful wife,” his voice has dropped an octave, coated with desire. His dick pulses, dancing on the edge of release that he can’t have yet. Your hips falter but he is right there to save you, bouncing you on his thigh until you unravel.
Your eyes fly open to stare up at him as it happens, your face sporting a pained expression until you suddenly smile in relief, and he swears loudly at how much restraint he has to show because he wants to finish in his jeans at the sight. You moan obscenely and roll your hips through it, trembling beneath him as you come, and he just knows you’re throbbing against the width of his thigh as wetness spreads across it.
You pant in the aftermath and giggle in your haze, looking unsure of exactly what just happened while you reach into your panties to cup your cunt in its aftershocks. You even dare rub your sensitive clit only to whimper and nearly make Javier unleash something beastly.
One thing is for sure though and it is that the fact that fucked-out you don’t protest his advances anymore. Instead, you welcome them and a look in your eye makes it seem like you are desperate to be filled up with his cock. He is more than happy to indulge you in your delirious state.
Although you also look like a baby giraffe, your legs unable to hold you up, it doesn’t stop him from getting whatever he wants. He grabs your knee to get your attention.
“Turn around,” he orders in the same voice he uses on his inferiors at work but with you, there’s an underlying desire, affection even, in the way he growls.
You follow orders so fast that he feels his cock move underneath his jeans, and without hesitation, he pulls down the zipper and shoves them down to get out of the confinements of the denim as quickly as possible. He takes a quick breath when the air of the living room hits the sensitive skin of his dick, it standing right into the air with how hard and touch-starved it is.
In front of him, you’ve spread your legs and braced yourself against the arm of the couch by resting on your forearms. In the cozy, warm lighting of the room, he can see your lace panties have started sticking to your slit.
“You get this wet from the idea of fucking on the couch? Breaking your little rules?” He knows you can hear the smirk in his voice and it only grows wider when you shake your head. It’s a game by now, acting like he isn’t the owner of what is between your legs.
“That’s not—“ you try but his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, only pulling them as far down as he has to. He leaves them tangled around your thighs, touches you where they’ve stuck to you and you jerk forwards, “Fuck.”
“Don’t think I’ve been so hard in forever. We needed this, baby,” he admits and scoots closer to you on the couch. He presses the head of his cock between your folds, feeling how you’re already trying to suck him in. and your head hangs between your shoulders while you release a trembling breath.
With a hand on the small of your back and a hand around his cock, he sheathes himself fully inside of you in a steady motion and oh fuck, his balls are aching for release already. You make an impatient sound, rocking your hips back against him to grind on his cock.
“Please,” you whimper at the aching stretch. You have already collapsed against the armrest and with his hands finding your gorgeous hips - the ones who have borne his child - he lets his cock fill you over and over again.
“You feel so fucking good, mi amor (my love), so tight around me,” he moans with a heavy breath, savoring the way you clench softly around him already. Your walls are warm and wet, squelching lewdly with each thrust from how much your body has prepared itself for him.
“You’re in me so deep, Javi. I can feel you everywhere,” you gasp shakily even when he knows he could go deeper. He roughly switches between dragging you harshly down on his throbbing cock and snapping his hips forward so they crash into your ass with a filthy smack. It makes you whimper with each thrust, whining like a wounded animal.
One of his hands slides up your spine to tangle itself in the hair at the back of your neck while the other rests flat on the dip of the small of your back. He arches your body by tugging your head back slightly and pushing down just above your jiggling ass. It switches up the angle at which he fucks you, and it is almost too much to listen to how wanton you get when he repeatedly stabs your front wall.
“Who’s fucking you, baby?” He demands.
“You!” You choke out on the verge of tears, “Fuck, it’s you!”
“And who am I?” He smacks your ass to the point where your body tenses up and he nearly doubles over from how you squeeze his dick.
“My husband,” you moan loudly, “Spank me again.”
“That’s my girl,” he growls while his head swims and his heartbeat races. God, his cock is living for the moment as he hits you again and hears you croak in delicious pain, “My wife takes me so fucking well. You like that?”
You make a guttural sound and try to nod with him holding your head in place by your hair. There’s a slow shift in the way you are tightening around him. You’ll come again soon, he can feel it, so worked up that your cunt flutters around him in that familiar way but it doesn’t seem to be enough for you. You cross your ankles, narrowing the space between your jiggling thighs and making Javier fit even more snugly inside your wet heat. He groans loudly, hoping Inés and Lucas are fast asleep, his eyes nearly rolling back into his skull and his pace faltering for a moment.
“What are you doing to me, baby? You’re so tight, I can barely fucking move,” he hisses, struggling to keep up until you gasp out that you’re close. He knows it is going to be his undoing, knows that if this is fucking fantastic already around his dick, he won’t last through your cunt squeezing him during your release.
He decides to slam into you to get you there, watching you arch your back even further to welcome him right into that sweet spot inside of you. The added pressure makes you cry out and look back at him, gasping for air as he aims to push you over the edge, “Fuck, I’m… Javi— fuck, I’m gonna come!”
“Yeah? You fucking love this. Gets you going, huh? Being this full of me,” he taunts through gritted teeth, feeling sweat on his brow threatening to drip down.
“Sí (yes),” you agree weakly, your air forced out of your lungs at his power.
“Wait till I fill this pussy up, till you’re round with another baby. Then everyone will know how much she loves being stuffed,” he moans, his mouth faster than his brain.
You look at him with wide eyes, already scolding him despite teetering on the edge, “Javier Peña. Don’t you dare— fuck, we can barely keep up with the two kids we have ah–lready. Oh God, that feels–”
“I want to get you pregnant again,” he confesses recklessly, knowing it’s far from your plans, murmuring it amid his brain fog, “I can keep up, I can give you everything, baby. I’ll take care of you, of the kids, of everything. Please. Just let me– fuck, let me come inside.”
“No,” you whimper with a shake of your head but your body betrays you. You push back against him one last time, “I—“
You come in the next moment. If he thinks you’ve been loud before, it is nowhere near the sounds you let out at the first spasm of your release. You shove your face into the armrest so as to not wake up the rest of the house, clamping down so tightly around him that he swears he’ll see God.
“Liar,” he drags his hands down your body again to hold tightly onto your hips and his head swims with how you still have your back dipped, your ass so inviting in this position that he wants to smack it again, “Dime que lo quieres (say you want it). Say you want me to fill you up.”
“Please, Javi, I want it,” you give in during the aftermath of your orgasm, sensitive and high on dopamine, your forehead resting on your hands as they grip the armrest tight enough to make your knuckles whiten, “Please, I need it. Give it to me.”
Your begging tips him over the edge, his rhythm staggering. A few more thrusts deep into your still-squeezing cunt and he is done for, overwhelmed by the sight and feel of you. You are his wife, the mother of his children, and you look so goddamn beautiful speared on his cock that he cannot hold back anymore.
He spills into you more than he ever has before. His come just doesn’t stop, keeps coming and fills you to the brim in pulses that send electricity to the very ends of his nerves.
“Jesus, you weren’t lying when you said you needed it,” you half-laugh and half-gasp at the fullness, looking back at him with furrowed brows and a moan as another thick rope spills into you. He watches your open mouth with a little groan and he slides his hands beneath you to hold you in place, pinning you while another wave of warmth enters you.
“You’re— baby, you’re still coming,” you whimper softly and your body starts shaking as you take it all. He knows it must be overwhelming, knows that you are probably aching from the pressure building inside you.
“Fuck, I know, mi amor (my love)” he mutters with unsteady breaths, your walls fluttering weakly around him, resulting in your pussy squeezing the last few drops from his cock, “I… It’s so much.”
You’re not laughing anymore. Instead, you have become a shuddering and pathetic mess from how intense it feels to be claimed so fully. Javier dares look down at where the two of you are still connected, the sight sparking something beastly and primal in him. A milky white ring has formed around his girth, his generous release threatening to spill down his length before he has even removed himself from you.
Despite not even trying for a third baby - and therefore knowing that losing himself in you was foolish of him - he just knows that this might’ve been the time that did it, this is where he’d look at you proudly and say ay, that did it, huh?
You whine feebly from below him and it pulls him from his trance. He drags his cock out of your mess of a pussy with a wet pop, covered in his and your come, and he can feel the way your body becomes heavier in his grip, your legs ready to give out on you when the pressure inside you shifts.
“Ah,” you moan the moment he pulls out and turn your head away from him again. A thick gush of his come follows, spilling from you in a thick, glistening dollop and his fingers tighten on your waist and hips at the obscene picture.
“Look at you. You’re so full, mamá, taking all of me,” he praises, watching the drops of release slide down the inside of your thigh, some of it dripping onto your underwear and some of it onto the couch below. He should be more concerned with the couch’s fabric but he finds that he is too mesmerized by your body working against his load.
"I can feel it," your voice trembles and you slump even more against the armrest, “It’s so messy, Javi.”
“Let me take a look at you,” he almost feels like he has tunnel vision, and can see nothing but you as your cunt weeps with a mix between the both of you. He spreads your thighs wider with his hands, causing your hips to jerk and another dollop to hit the couch. Its surface is a mess by now, translucent stains spreading across the fabric where the slick warmth is still pooling. Somehow, the sight is enough to make his cock stir and his balls tighten again.
“You’re dripping all over the place. It is perfect. I want you like this all the time. His words make you moan and nod. You tilt your hips slightly, biting back a soft sound as the provocative movement sends another slow gush slipping free. Javier laughs quietly, just knows you’re smirking like the dirty girl you are, “Now you’re just showing off.”
You snicker, however you are struggling to hold yourself up. He can see your head dipping to glance below yourself. You make a noise of complaint and he can hear the faux-exasperation in your voice, “Javi, it’s everywhere.”
“I can see that,” he says simply, amused. He smacks your ass. The seemingly last drops of his seed are forced out of your overstimulated body by the impact, the amount enough for this to be irresponsible towards your traumatized furniture.
“You’re making it worse!” You laugh helplessly, reaching underneath yourself to swat at his hand, but your giggle is cut short by a moan as his fingers suddenly brush against what still clings to your folds.
“I don’t think it can get any worse, I mean, look at you, such a messy pussy you’ve got,” he teases playfully as he leans over you briefly to kiss your back. His free hand slides around you to your stomach, pressing down gently, and he watches in awe as well as surprise as even more of his warm and sticky come slips out. You make a noise, and he concludes that it must be the last of his load, “Besides, it’s not me… You’re the one with a pussy that’s drooling all over the place.”
“The couch is ruined,” you declare instead of answering his little taunt. Carefully, you push yourself back to crawl over the pool of naughty evidence and Javier instinctively grabs your waist to guide you in case your legs are too wobbly. He is itching to get close to you, and kiss you well and properly.
"If this couch couldn’t handle us, it wasn’t worth keeping anyway,” he says when you finally fall into his arms with a little huff, naked and messy. God, how are you his? He feels so sated and happy as he pulls you into a lingering kiss, wiping his hand on the couch - it needs a scrub anyway - so he can rest his broad hand on the back of your neck. He grabs onto you there, a little possessively, “Eres mía (you’re mine).”
“Yours,” you hum and drag your tongue against his. He is so fucking into you.
“Maybe a new couch is my present this year,” you say when you part again and shift slightly to melt into his chest. The both of you look at the messy stains on the fabric, “Although I am gonna miss it. We made Luke on it.”
Javier lights up slightly, cannot quite believe that he’s forgotten, “Shit, that’s right, we did.”
“You don’t remember the conception of your own son?” You tease him, resting your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. You rest your palm on his warm chest, the crispness of his shirt having been substituted with slightly damp warmth.
“Forgive me but we were like goddamn rabbits, my wife,” he cups your cheek and pecks your lips a few times, making you slump even further. He watches you think loud enough for him to imagine the cogs turning in your mind.
“You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you?” You tut with a small smile, subtly trying to hide your uncertainty.
“You have no idea,” he rubs your back soothingly while your eyes droop. He tests the waters by asking you a simple question, “Tired?”
You sigh softly, “Yeah, but I don’t think I can move after that.”
He is quick, trying to make you giggle, “Bién (good), means I did my job.”
You huff a soft laugh and he grins because he cannot help it. The sound makes him feel like someone is running around inside his chest, his pulse racing from even the softest chuckle that escapes your lips.
“It will become a problem if I can’t take Lucas to school tomorrow,” you note with closed eyes.
“You don’t have to do anything but sit here and look beautiful,” he squeezes you, nosing along your neck, and you hum in satisfaction.
After a short while, a silence falls over you in the afterglow. It is nice but he cannot help but feel there’s something on your mind, something that troubles you. He gently touches you where he knows you like it, and meanwhile, you look shy.
“Thank you,” you eventually say.
“What for?” He asks despite how he might already know, peppering your neck with kisses, pressing a hot kiss to your jawline.
“Opening up the opportunity to do this again… the spontaneity. I know I haven’t— I suppose it’s been hard to feel sexy when you have a kid on your hip all the time.“
“Ay, mi amor (my love),” he shakes his head. He shifts you slightly, caring very little about how you smear his naked thighs with your soaked underwear. He reaches around your back to cradle you and reaches for your hand as it lays in your lap, “You’re sexy all the time.”
“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” you press your nose into his cheek, “I keep forgetting how good it can be when we let go. I just worry.”
“You overthink it and that’s okay. We can start slow,” he coos but he has never been more sincere. You have been covered in spit up from Inés and he still wanted you.
“This wasn’t slow,” you say and turn your head to rest your forehead against his.
“Yeah, I’ve never— fuck, I’ve never come like that before.”
“Yeah, you were insatia—“ your gaze flickers to the coffee table, and suddenly, a tiny gasp leaves you. Javier tenses.
“Oh no,” you mutter, sitting up quickly.
“What?” Javier asks, his brows knitting together as he watches you reach for the Christmas mug on the table, “What’s wrong?”
“My hot chocolate!” You exclaim, lifting it up to your lips and taking a testing sip. You grimace immediately, “It’s cold!”
“Christ, woman, I thought something was actually wrong,” he chuckles.
“Something is wrong. It was perfect and now it’s ruined,” you retort, pouting, “Next time, I’m finishing my drink first.”He takes the mug from you and sets it aside again so he can wrap you in a tight hug, “Next time, I’ll make you forget all about it again.”
.
.
If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️
#pedro pascal characters#javier pena smut#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena fic#javier pena narcos#javi p#javi peña#javi pena#javier peña#javier pena one shot#javier pena x you#javier pena x reader#javi p x reader#javier pena x y/n#javi pena x reader#javi pena x you#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal smut#my writing#husband!javi#narcos fanfiction#narcos#siggy replies#siggy talks
452 notes
·
View notes
Note
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
#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x female reader#aaron hotchner x reader insert#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner fanfic#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#hotch x you#hotch x reader#aaron hotchner fluff#aaron hotchner smut#smut#fluff#criminal minds smut#cm#hotchner#aaron hotch hotchner#agent hotchner#ssa aaron hotchner#kiwriteswords
504 notes
·
View notes
Note
OMG I JUST NOTICED YOUR REQUESTS ARE OPEN THAT JUST MADE MY DAY!!!!
anyways can you do headcanons for bllk character introducing you to either their teams or the press iykwim
pretty please I loveeeee your posts so much <333333
Introducing their s/o to their team - isagi, kaiser, rin, hiori, chigiri
m.list | rules
Note : Hiii you're so cute lslsls thank you sm for your request <3 I chose this one cause somebody else asked about the press finding out so I'll do both !
Nobody is mentioned so I'll choose but feel free to ask for your fav !
Isagi
He's so shy but happy omg
He's probably blushing if they keep saying how pretty you are
Those who ask a bit more about you earlier to isagi will probably start a conversation more easily
But you love to talk with everyone!
If you're famous, they'll ask about it or how you two meet or even about your job
But if you're someone like you and me they're begging to know how you two meet
They're probably expect something really cheesy based on isagi himself
He probably get teased a lot afterwards but he takes it easy
he’s just so happy you can finally meet them
Rin
he’s pretty but awful so everybody think he’s bitchless
no need to say that they GASPED when he introduced you
you seem so sweet, what are you doing here ?
“He paid you ?” i definitely see some of them ask you that - like bachira
wait until you tell them that you asked him and he wasn’t planning of doing without you mentioning it
they’re shocked, they feel betrayed and are ready to make a scene to him before you calm it down
everybody want to know more about you, asking you lot of questions to the point that rin has to claim you back
holding your waist or wrist to remind you that he’s there too
I think it goes more simply that he imagined at first
He's always happy when they ask about you even if he doesn’t show it
Chigiri
just like that time they react when they saw his sister, they will ask him who you are even if it’s obvious that you’re his s/o
one or two would probably ask you out on a date to make him mad - tbh it’s really funny to see
he’ll blush and become protective over you, adorable
he would roll his eyes at their jokes but as long as you’re laughing at them, it’s fine with him
he’ll get tease by the gaze he sent you all night, sweet and soft, speaking all the love he has for you before his tongue can
he’s a bit cash if they’re doing to much though, they have to be careful around his lover
Hiori
he talks about you regularly so they’re all happy when he mentions that you’ll tag along for a team meal they’re HYPE
they’re so happy to see you it’s cute, you wish every partner is welcome that way
you’re so soft spoken it totally make sense that you ended up with him
you’re probably a little reserved and overwhelmed at first but they’re calmer than you thought
it’s also a lot funnier than you thought so, even if you stay glued to hiori’s side, you can enjoy the night to the fullest !
he checks on you frequently, catching a lot of eyes and they make sure to let him know
you two are just so cute for sure damn couple goal
Kaiser
ness is jealous lmao
he’s very cocky and proud to introduce you to them
you’re so precious and most importantly : you’re his - he can’t just keep it to himself
sharing the world about you start with his teammates
he’ll tell them how you two meet and how you fall in love with him - as if he wasn’t the one down bad - with his arm around your shoulders to keep you close
he trusted them but they can’t touch <3 even in a friendly way
you’re really welcome though, they’re all very interested in you and your life/job
it goes pretty smoothly, even if ness is a little salty
Sae
he’s reluctant to say the least, he knows he won’t see the end of it
you’re amazing, he loves you unconditionally
but you’re so good like that that he knows he will have to deal with them asking how you’re doing and he doesn’t like it
he says yes anyway, and one day he brings you with him at an unofficial meeting
they’re so shocked but happy to see you in real life (you’re on his lock screen) : they want to know everything
sae is a rather intimate person and doesn’t talk much about his personal life so you’re the one who will tell them the cheesy stuff
yes you received death glares, you you still answer them with a big smile
you’re funny, they already really love you and they can’t wait to see you more around
I hope you liked it !
#blue lock x reader#blue lock headcanons#blue lock fluff#blue lock hc#bllk x reader#bllk headcanons#bllk hcs#bllk fluff#sae x reader#sae headcanons#sae hc#isagi x reader#isagi yoichi x reader#isagi headcanons#isagi fluff#kaiser x reader#kaiser fluff#kaiser hcs#michael kaiser#hiori x reader#hiori headcanons#hiori fluff#hiori yo x reader#chigiri x reader#chigiri headcanons#chigiri hcs#chigiri fluff#rin x reader#rin itoshi x reader#rin hcs
2K notes
·
View notes