Pass The Happy! 🧡 When You Get This, Reply With 5 Things That Make You Happy And Send This To The

This one is my favourite! I've re-read it a few times😍😍❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

Soulmate | Carlos Sainz Ver.

WC: 4.8K

Csrlos x Soulmate!reader

Summery: Everyone can feel their soulmate's injuries and pain since the age of 15

Warning: None??

AN: Thank you for all the ideas. I just changed jobs, and it's a full time office job, so it's very demanding 🙄🙃

Max Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver., Lewis Ver.

Masterlist

Carlos Masterlist

The world is built on the idea that soulmates are connected through their physical pain. Everyone knows that if you're injured or in pain, your soulmates feel the exact same pain. This can be seen as a blessing or as a curse. In one way, you know when your other half is injured, but it also brings shared vulnerability. Some believed it was a form of protection, a way for soulmates to be in tune with one another, even if they'd never met. 

Now, did you know about this from a young age? Yes, you did. Did that stop you from doing all those crazy things that caused you multiple injuries? No. You felt sorry every time, but you're just clumsy by nature. It was from the moment you could walk that you've been a klutz. Bumping into walls, tripping over your own feet, and misjudging the occasional stair, it was part of your life. Growing up, you've gotten used to the bumps and bruises that came with her natural clumsiness, but what took longer to adjust to was the knowledge that someone else felt them, too.

Your soulmate must be a saint because you've rarely felt any pain. Yes, through the years, there have been times when you felt real and strong pain, but it was few and far between.

In a world of soulmates that felt their soulmates through visceral pain, your soulmate did everything he could to never cause you pain.

And for as long as you could remember, you’d imagined what he might be like. Patient for sure, after all, he had to endure your countless scrapes and missteps. You wondered if he was the type to sigh and shake his head when he felt you stub your toe or if he was used to your clumsiness, so much so that it barely bothered him anymore. Whoever he was, you were grateful got him.

Your friends often teased you about it, especially when you had a particularly bad fall or ended up with an impressive bruise. “You really owe your soulmate an apology.” They would always joke. “He must be so fed up by now.”

You’d always laugh it off, but late at night you’d overthink. Did he really mind? Or was he out there somewhere laughing about it, too? What was his life like? Was he clumsy, too? You doubt it. He must be the complete opposite, composed and careful, someone who rarely felt pain unless it was coming from you. Maybe he was a doctor or an athlete, someone who needed precision and strength in his day-to-day life. Your imagination would always run wild, paining pictures of him in your mind. But no matter how many times you tried to envision his face, it remained just out of reach, like the hazy details of a dream.

The older you got the more curious you got, and it started eating at you. Who was he? Where was he? Some people met their soulmate early on, like your childhood friend who had found hers at eighteen. Others never found theirs at all, even though they shared the pain for their entire lives. You tried not to let it bother you too much, after all what could you do? If you’re meant to meet it’ll happen on it’s own time.

But still there was that nagging feeling every time you bumped your knee or accidently burned your hand cooking. You would wince and imagine him somewhere far away, gritting his teeth as he felt the same.

“Another one for you soulmate.” You muttered as you stumbled over a crack in the pavement.

For as long as you lived with the bond you’ve been the one giving the worst of pains, sending your soulmate injuries, most harmless, but you’ve also broken enough bones over the years.

It started as a dull ache, just beneath your ribs on the right side. At first, you didn’t think much of it, assuming it’s a muscle strain or maybe it’s something you’ve eaten. You shifted in your seat, pressing your hand against the spot as if to massage the discomfort away, but the ache lingered, stubborn and unrelenting.

Throughout the day the pain grew worse. What started as mild throb quickly became sharp, stabbing sensation, taking your breath away every time you moved, and you started to feel a fever coming. This wasn’t like the occasional bump or fall you’re used to, this is far worse than anything you’ve felt before. This is different, deeper, persistent and alarming.

By late afternoon, you couldn’t take it anymore, every breath felt like a knife twisting in your side, and no matter how you positioned yourself, it wouldn’t go away. Sweat was forming on your forehead as you tried to power through the pain, but something wasn’t right.

Could this be coming from him?

You never felt pain like this before, certainly not from your own body. Your chest tightened, if this pain wasn’t yours, then something is very wrong. The idea that your soulmate could be hurt, really hirt, it made your stomach churn. You could handle minor injuries, but this? This was different.

You rushed to the hospital, the ride to the hospital felt like an eternity. By the time you arrived, you were sweating and clutching your side, each movement like a dagger. You explained your symptoms to the nurse at the reception, your voice wavering with pain and fear,

They rushed you into an examination room.

“We’ll run some tests.” The doctor said after you told him your symptoms, his brows furrowed with concern. “It sounds like it could be appendicitis, but we’ll know more once we do an ultrasound.”

As the minutes dragged on, the pain sharpened, radiating into your chest. You clutched the hospital bed’s metal rails, your knuckles turned white as you waited. Nurses and doctors came and went performing the tests as quickly as they could. After what felt like hours the doctor came back.

“The tests came back normal.” He began, flipping through the papers in his hands. “There’s no sign of appendicitis, in fact, you don’t have an appendix.” That was news to you.

“What? I don’t have it? Is that normal?” You asked confused.

“It’s rare but it happens some people are born without an appendix.” The doctor confirmed, he didn’t seem too worried.

“But the pain, it’s unbearable, what’s causing it?” You asked and dreaded the answer you know the doctor is about to give you.

“The only answer we have is, the pain isn’t yours to begin with.” The doctor smiled sympathetically. His words hung in the air heavy. Your soulmate. He’s the one in agony, and you were feeling every excruciating second of it.

Carlos hasn’t been feeling the best the last couple of days, he thought he was tired from all the traveling and racing and training. It happens. But the moment he woke up he knew something was wrong, he had Free Practice today, so he just pushed through it. However throughout the day, he’s just been getting worse and worse. By the end of FP2 he knew he couldn’t just push it off, it wasn’t food poisoning, he was starting to burn up.

Carlos with his team went to the hospital so he’d get checked out. He sat hunched over in the waiting room, gripping his side as the pain flared up again, sharper this time. The medics had said it was appendicitis and a routine surgery, nothing major. But that didn’t ease the fear eating at the back of his mind. He’s used to pushing his body through physical discomfort, but never to the point of pain. But this wasn’t the type of pain you ignore.

He could feel the ache spreading and tightening like a vice around his abdomen. His hands were clammy, sweat was gathered on his forehead, and his breath came in shallow, uneven bursts. He’s been through a lot through his life, the crash here and there, the pain of his soulmate breaking a bone, and stubbing her toes and all the random bruises she seems to get randomly.  This felt like his body was on fire from the inside out, and it wasn’t just the physical pain that made his chest tighten.

It was her, his soulmate.

As long as he could remember, he had shared pain with you. The worst when you had broken your leg. And he’s grown accustomed to the random flicker of discomfort over the years, wondering what kind of person you are. He imagined you being clumsy, maybe even a bit absent-minded, but he never minded. In fact, it had always made him smile, knowing that somewhere out there, you were living your life and through those little jolts of pain you felt close to him.

But today, he was the one that was causing you pain, pain like you both have never experienced before. That realisation made him nauseous. How much of this were you feeling right now? Were you suffering as much as he was, lying somewhere clutching your side in agony?

Carlos wiped the sweat from his brow and closed his eyes, trying to focus on anything but the pain. He thought of you, his soulmate.

You walked out of the hospital room, walking slowly. Since the pain you were experiencing isn’t yours, pain meds will do nothing unless your soulmate takes some. You were clutching your side as you walked, not really paying attention, that and being the clumsy person that you are you bumped into someone while you were passing one of the waiting rooms. You stumbled before your knees hit the floor, hard. You winced, the same time someone else did.

“I’m so sorry are you alright?” An accented voice asked, you looked up to see a man with a moustache, he was dressed in red.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.” You replied instantly and took the man’s hand to stand up. You were unaware of the other Spanish eyes on you.

Carlos shared a look with his dad beside him, Carlos Sr. saw everything happen. He saw you fall and he saw his son wince when you did.

“Pinch yourself.” He muttered to his son, not taking his eyes off you.

“W-what?” Carlos frowned at his father’s words, but he didn’t wait Carlos Sr. pinched his son’s arm and you let out an ‘aw’ and held your arm where he pinched his son.

You frowned, not understanding what was going on with your soulmate.

“Are you hurt?” The man in front of you asked seeing how you held your arm.

“Yeah, soulmate.” He lets out an ‘ah’ in understanding.

Carlos’s eyes went wide when he saw you feel his pain, your hand went back to your side, the same he was holding, and even though he was still in pain he felt relieved, his heart much lighter and he couldn’t help but smile. His dad nudged him with a smile of his own. And Carlos stood up and went to his friend’s side. Gigi was confused why Carlos was coming his way, and why he was smiling when he had to go in for surgery in less than two hours. But he wasn’t looking at him, he was looking at you.

You only noticed him when he came to stand beside the man you bumped into.

“Hi.” Carlos said simply and you frowned confused.

“Hi?” It came out as a question, you looked between the two men in confusion. “I’m sorry but i-“

You were cut off when you groaned as a wave of pain hit you, the same time as the stranger in front of you winced and held his side, the same side you’ve felt the pain. Gigi then knew what happened, and he too couldn’t help but smile, he looked at Carlos Sr. for confirmation and he just gave him a proud nod.

You looked at the new man who was holding his side, your heart skipped a beat. Is he? Could he? This is almost too good to be true. You bit your tongue slightly.

“Why are you biting your tongue?” The smooth voice of your soulmate asked, your eyes went wide, Carlos chuckled at the expression on your face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” This time it was breathless; your eyes didn’t move from his face as you took him in. He also was waring a red shirt, but he also had a hat on top of his head, covering parts of his face but your eyes met his, nonetheless.

“I’m Carlos.” Carlos said and put his hand out for you to shake.

“Y/n.” You said taking his hand, the rush you both felt is unexplainable. You felt warm, your heart was beating faster and you were tingling all over. “It’s really you.”

“It’s me.” Carlos said and you both didn’t let go of each other’s hand.

“Carlos, it’s better you go to your room.” Gigi said, once the nurse told them his room was ready. Carlos nods, but it takes him a few moments to let go of your hand and look away.

“Come on.” Carlos said and he leads you to his room following the nurse. Once the door is closed leaving the both of you alone, you turned to face him once more.

“I never thought I’d meet my soulmate in a hospital of all places.” You said and smiled.

“Really? With how much you like to hit the floor, it was more than likely.” Carlos teased, he took off his hat and ran a hand though his hair, it was so fluffy you wanted to run your hands through it.

“Yeah, sorry about that.” You mutter suddenly not meeting his eyes, feeling guilty for all the pain you caused him.

“Hey, I didn’t say I minded.” He said but you still refused to meet his eyes, so he went on. “Every time I felt your pain, I knew you were out there somewhere, living your life and that I wasn’t alone, even if once or twice the timing wasn’t the best, is till cherished it.”

“Really?” You asked meeting his hypnotizing brown eyes.

“Really.” Carlos confirms, his smile is sweet and kind and warm.

“What’s wrong with your appendix?” You ask your hand itching to touch where you know he feels the pain most.

“I have appendicitis, will go into surgery in an hour or so.” Carlos tells you and feels himself riddled with guilt, knowing you felt the pain of his illness. “Why are you here?”

“Came to check if it’s my pain or yours I was feeling.” You could see the guilt eating at him. “I rarely felt pain coming from you, you’ve always been so careful, and here I am falling every day.”

“Guess we balance each other out.” Carlos said and you smiled.

“Guess so… also I discovered I’m born without an appendix.” You suddenly tell him and smile up at him.

“So we’ll match then.” Carlos laughed at the coincidence. You both stayed silent for a long moment, just basking in each other’s presence. “There’s so much I want to ask you.”

“Me too.” You tell him honestly. “Like why are you wearing red? It looks like a uniform, same with the guy I walked into.”

“It kind of is a uniform, it’s team kit, we’re required to wear it.” Carlos says and runs a hand over the back of his neck, he’ll have to explain what he does to you.

“Like a sports thing?” You asked raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, exactly that.” You mouth forms an ‘o’ shape, and you nod to yourself.

“What sport?”

“Formula 1.” You rack your brain over if you’ve heard of it before, Carlos saw the confused look on your face, he was about to answer your un asked question when someone knocked on the door. He called out for them to enter and in walked his dad and Gigi.

“You have to get ready.” Gigi said and Carlos sighed he was just starting to talk to you, you smiled at him.

“I’ll be here.” You promised and he nods.

“I’ll introduce you then. This is y/n, my soulmate.” He said is so proudly, smiling at you, a smile that you shared. “That’s Poerluigi, known as Gigi and this is my dad Carlos Sr.”

“Oh, I didn’t know you dad was here as well, it’s nice to meet you sir.” You say and go to shake his hand, Sr. smiles and shakes your hand.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Carlos Sr. said with a smile he gave you a quick one-armed hug while your hands were still clasped together. “Carlos has been anxious to meet you lately.”

“Papa.” Carlos Jr. warned his dad, he didn’t want any embarrassing stories to reach you before he even gotten the chance to officially sit and talk to you. Sr. winked at you and you giggled, Carlos gives you both a warning look, before you leave the room so they can prep him for surgery. Meeting your soulmate right before he has to go into surgery isn’t really ideal. The three of you were allowed to wait in his room once Carlos was wheeled out.

“So what exactly does Carlos do?” You asked, and that opened the flood gates. They told you about how Carlos Sr. is a rally driver, all his achievements and how Carlos decided to get into Formula 1, that he’s a driver for Ferrari. They showed you some videos of him on track, deciding not to share anything personal and leave it to Carlos to share and say what he wants to.

You in turn were asked about what you do, your hobbies, why you’re always getting bruised and just random talk. When Carlos is brought back in the room, he’s still unconscious, the doctor informed you that it went well and that he’ll recover in no time. Carlos Sr. went out the room to call his wife and inform her of Carlos’ well-being.

when Carlos wakes up, you’re all kicked out of the room for the doctor to check on him, before you’re allowed back inside. The doctor reconfirms that Carlos is okay and well and that he’ll be able to recover fast. Something he was happy to hear about.

“How are you feeling?” Carlos Sr. asked his son.

“Good.”

“I think the pain meds haven’t worn off yet.” You say, feeling not an ounce of pain through your connection. Carlos smiles at you and you smile back.

“You stayed.”

“Of course, I did.” You say with a pointed look, he’d be stupid if he thought you’re about to leave him when he’s going into surgery, no matter how easy it is.

Gigi takes a picture of both Carlos’s for Instagram, for the fans. He did manage to snap a few of you both, but those were private, for now at least.

“Where are you staying?” Carlos asked and when you gave him your hotel room, he laughed.

“What?”

“You were so close all along.” Carlos says and he smiles thinking about how even if he was okay, you properly would’ve met. “I’m staying there too.”

“Guess fate intended for us to meet one way or the other.” You smile at the thought, you’re mean to be, and you were bound to meet.

Carlos is required to spend the night, and his dad decided to stay with him. Meaning you and Gigi went back to the hotel, and agreed to meet in the morning so you could head back to the hotel together. In all of the rush of things, you forgot to ask Carlos for his number, but Gigi gave you his number for the meet up in the morning.

can you send me Carlos’ number? 😊

Gigi

Sure 😉

You ignore the winky face and save Carlos’ number once you received it.

Stop moving around so much 🤨

Soulmate ❤️

sorry, I can’t find a comfortable spot to sleep

ask the nurses for painkillers if you’re in pain

Soulmate ❤️

I’m alright, it’s not too bad

Do you feel pain? If you want I can take pain killers for you.

no I’m good, it’s alright

I can feel you

Soulmate ❤️

I can’t feel you

do you want me to pinch myself or something?

Soulmate ❤️

No, now the tables are turned.

I guess so

Soulmate ❤️

what?

im sad that you’re the one in pain

That’s my job in the relationship!

Soulmate ❤️

Relationship? 😏

You felt a blush cover your face; you want to cover your cheeks even though he can’t even see you.

I think that’s enough for today

you should go to sleep.

Soulmate ❤️

fine, I’ll let it slide

this time

see you tomorrow, hermosa’

see you tomorrow.

The next morning you meet up with Gigi, who had a bag of clothes for both Carlos’s. the drive to the hospital you spent talking about unimportant things. When you got to the hospital, Carlos Sr. took the bag and went to change, and Gigi excused himself to go get coffee.

“How did you sleep?” Carlos asked you.

“I slept alright, how about you?” You asked glancing to where they did the surgery.

“I slept better than ever, dreaming about you.” You couldn’t fight the blush and turned your head to the side, biting your bottom lip to stop yourself from smiling. “Don’t hide your face from me.”

Carlos moved so his feet were dangling off the bed, he wanted to walk up to you and pull you in close. He hasn’t been able to hug you yet, and he wants to desperately. Carlos puts his hand out and you walk closer to him, you put your hand in his and he pulls you closer. You’re standing between his legs; Carlos doesn’t wait and wraps his arms around you in a hug. You stand frozen for a moment before you lean into him, your arms much closer around him than his around you. But you lean your head onto on his shoulder.

“I wanted to do that since I saw you.” Carlos mumbles, his voice coming out right next to your ear, making you shiver.

“Only this?” You ask, now that you’re face is hidden, you found the confidence to say that to him.

“If we weren’t here, I’d show you all the things I want to do to you.” Carlos whispers and kisses right under your ear, you close your eyes basking in the feeling of him around you.

“Could have waited until I wasn’t here.” Carlos Sr. says coming out of the attached bathroom. You pull away from Carlos and your blush is back. Carlos only chuckles and rolls his eyes at his father.

Carlos changes and comes out, him and his dad start talking in Spanish, you sip on the coffee Gigi has gotten you checking your notifications on your phone. You look up when you feel the conversation getting a tad bit heated, Carlos is standing in a pair of jeans and his team kit his hat is on the bed.

“Why are you in your team kit?” You ask confused, Carlos Sr. moved his hand in your direction, indicating to his son to tell you what’s going on.

“I’m going to the race today.” Carlos said and you frowned.

“Why? Are they making you go?” You asked seeing no reason for him to be anywhere, but back in the hotel and resting until his flight.

“No, but I want to be there.” Carlos said simply and his dad muttered something under his breath.

“You just got a surgery not even 24 hours ago.” You say standing up.

“I know, but like I told papa, I want to go be there for the team, and I won’t be doing an media or anything, it wouldn’t be different than me staying in the hotel.”

“Doubt it.” Sr. mutters. You think for a moment, not liking this at all.

“Okay, but remember I feel your pain, at the first sign of it we’ll be out of there.” You tell him with a pointed look, daring him to disagree.

“Okay, fine.” Carlos says and Gigi smirks.

“I like this one.”

Both Carlos Sr. and Jr. walked to the motorhome first, and you and Gigi followed after, you had a Ferrari with 55 hat on, your head was done as instructed as you followed the man in front of you. There has been a dull pain in your side as the pain killers wore off, but it wasn’t too bad so you said nothing. Getting to the garage, Gigi sticks to your side and shows you around, Carlos is busy, which isn’t the resting he said he’d do.

Gigi soon introduces you to Alex, Charle’s soulmate, you both talk about your soulmates. Unlike you she knew about Formula 1 before she dated Charles, but her knowledge was limited before that. She was super nice to you, as she explained a few things about the race, she also pointed out where Carlos is in the garage. You may have known him for so little time, but seeing him work, showed you a different side to him. He’s very dedicated and clearly loves what he does.

You find yourself in the back of the garage in a staff only area, it’s like a cafeteria. Carlos was standing to the side eating from a plat in his hand while you talked with Charles and Alex.

Carlos drops his fork on the floor and in a reflex move he bends to pick the fork up. Your side suddenly flares up and you gasp clutching your side. Both Charles and Alex look at you in concern.

“It’s Carlos.” You tell them and move to get to your soulmate, when your clumsy self decides to hit the side of a table with your hip making you stumble and now hold your hip. Carlos curses and he moves to get to you only ending up hunched over from the strain he puts to his side.

“You both, need to stop moving!” Carlos Sr. says and goes to see Carlos and make sure he hasn’t popped a stitch or something. Charles and Alex were at your side pulling you up.

“You are clumsy.” Charles says with a teasing smile, and Alex hits his shoulder, giving herself the same pain, but it makes him stop.

“Made for each other you two.” Carlos Sr. says and you and Carlos meet eyes, you both smile and chuckle, this recovery is going to be harder than you both expected.

It took you two weeks to allow Carlos to do any kind of kissing, and still, you stayed away from his side when you did. Carlos had you in his home to get to know you while he was in between races. He just came back from a race that he won, first winner of the season, that isn’t Max. it took more than usual out of him, which was understandable. But now that he was cleared to race, here you were on his bed, him leaning on the headboard and you in his lap, kissing. I never felt this good. Every bite ever suck was felt by the two of you. It left you gasping and moaning for more. Both your lips are puffy and bruised, Carlos moves his lips to your neck in wet kisses before he finds your sweet spot that had you moving over him. He groans and starts sucking, so lost in the moment.

The next day you wake up first and head to the bathroom for a quick shower, Carlos hears the water and wakes up. He walks in the bathroom and stops when he sees himself in the mirror, he lets out a curse. You poke your head out hearing him curse.

“What’s wrong?” You ask and he turns to show you his neck, you burst out laughing. “

“But it looks good on you.” Carlos almost whined and you couldn’t help but continue laughing.

“Well did you come into here to stare at yourself in the mirror, or?” You asked raising an eyebrow before turning and getting back under the shower head. Carlos forgets all about the hickeys covering his neck, collarbones and chest. He did a number on you last night.

Let’s just say it was easier for you to cover them than Carlos. The next race, the fans spotted them fast.

“Looks like you had a fun night.” Jensen commented while interviewing Carlos with a knowing smirks on his face. “Wild girl?”

“Uh no, I wouldn’t sag that. I did them myself.” Carlos admitted his face warming up a bit. You watched the interview from the sides, your neckline and hair covering up all the bruises he left on you.

“Did them yours- oh, oh, congratulations, mate.” Jensen bro hugged Carlos, realising what he meant. “We all had to learn where to stop.”

You rolled your eyes bit still smiled, Carlos already knew where to stop, evident by the fact that more bruises ended right under his neckline.

It was all just a time thing, with your clumsiness and Carlos’s love of kissing. But your identical bruises caught on cameras, as well as you hitting something and Carlos reacting was a sign enough for everyone that you’re his soulmate.

Main Taglist:

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03 . @schniti-is-in-the-house . @lottalove4evelyn . @eywas-heir . @glow-ish . @lilypat . @directioner5life .

Mmmmh... I'm speechless right now🙊🙊😈😈

cs55 - "Just sit down on it" smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, sauna sex, public sex (if you squint), riding carlos (he really wants you to), him worshiping you, creampie, cumplay

The delicious electricity is buzzing in your body of just being around Carlos. The air was tense, but in a good way, sucking all the oxygen out of your lungs. His eyes, dark and predator-like, were focused on you, as if you were a pretty deer in the headlights, and he was waiting to consume you. Carlos truly did consume you, but again, in the best way possible. You fell in love with him again every winter break, when his undivided attention was for you, when he was completely yours, his phone was off, and it was just the two of you. You felt the warmth blossoming in your chest at the thought of the past nights, spending the sunsets in the cabana, getting wine drunk and drunk on each other, which would start with innocent kisses and unfolded into the best sex of your life, every night.

Your thighs were even a little sore, the muscles in the back of your legs complaining a little when you hopped on the bike this afternoon. Anyone who looked closer could see the faint marks of his fingertips that had pressed into your hips so hard as he pulled you over his cock over and over again, watching you fall apart underneath him just to bury his mouth between your thighs after, having you make the prettiest sounds for him. The mere thought caused the goosebumps to rise upon your skin, even while the sauna was burning hot and droplets of sweat were rolling down your spine. You looked over your shoulder at Carlos, who was sitting back, thighs spread, arms behind the back of his head, his eyes still boring into yours, gliding over your body in the bikini.

The blue one was his favorite, not just because he was going to be dressed in blue from the start of the new season, but because the color looked so pretty on you. The small panties were tied together on either side of your hips, the top clinging to your tits in a way that never failed to make him hard. You finally made your way back to him, extending the second glass of wine you were carrying. Carlos took it from you, his other hand landing on his thigh, already expecting you to get into his lap. You easily slid onto his thighs, your hand landing on his chest. "Dame un beso, mi reina," he hummed, palm squeezing your thigh. "You use that so often on me and it still works," you sigh, your fingers trailing up his strong pecs, landing on the side of his neck.

His hair was salty, slicked back from moving his fingers through. He was so tan from just a week in the Maldives, it was nearly unfair. "I know it does," Carlos grins, his hand gliding to the small of your back, pulling you closer, pulling you over his erection. The friction made you squirm a little, his hot breath ghosting over your face before your lips connected in a delicious kiss. In combination with the few sips of wine, your mind was already spinning, feeling the heat of his body against yours, his abs against your stomach, how big he was beneath you. And you were talking about not just his goodies, his whole body. You weren't exactly petite, but he made you feel that way, and you loved it.

Within a quick, cheeky move, the strings of your top were loosened, making you pull back from him and cover your tits with your arm. "There are people around," you tssk. "They can look away if it bothers them. Or stay watching," Carlos simply replies, taking your hand in his and kissing the back of it, moving your arm away from your chest, eyes dropping to your hardened nipples. "That's sooo naughty," you whisper, earning a low chuckle and another kiss. His hips buck up slightly, drawing a whine from your throat as his other hand put down the glass of wine, pulling on the flimsy panties, intensifying the friction on your clit. "Look who's talking," Carlos teases, leaving hot, open mouth kisses on your neck.

You could taste the wine on his tongue when your lips connected again, his tongue licking into your mouth. Your hips rolled down on him, feeling him grow in his shorts. Carlos' fingertips slipped inside your panties, rubbing circles over your clit and spreading the slick wetness that was leaking from your pussy. His other hand moved into the hair in the nape of your neck, teeth nipping at the skin of your throat while you whimpered. "Ride me?" his voice rasped in your ear. "You're insane," you reply, your hand sliding down his abs, finding his happy trail that led your fingers to the waistband of his shorts. "Solo para ti." His pupils are blown when you look into his eyes, lips parting with a soft breath as your hand wraps around the girth, thumb spreading the precum over the fat head of his cock.

His thighs spread a little further when your hand starts to jerk him off, the sight causing the butterflies to flutter around in your stomach. Everything about him is so beautiful, so manly, so hot. You gnaw at your bottom lip as you look at his cock, the rip red and eager, the vein on the underside throbbing at the touch of your hand. "Mi amor..." Carlos complained, leaning forward to capture one of your nipples in his mouth, both hands grabbing your ass to hurry you over him. "Just sit down on it," he groaned, making you giggle a little. Carlos shoves your panties aside, and you raise your hips, slowly sliding down on his cock. The stretch is amazing every time, pushing against the walls of your pussy, nearly splitting you in half. Carlos moans at the feeling of being completely inside you, his eyes zoning in on where he fills you up.

His hand brushes over your lower abdomen, pressing against where the tip of his cock was bulging. "Feel me there, hmm?" his voice rasps. "Fuck me," you whine, giving him a high-pitched moan as he slaps your ass. There's a sly smile on your face, damn well knowing he wants you to do the work. You slowly start moving your hips, sliding your cunt up and down his cock, sucking him and gripping him tightly to feel all the ridges and veins. He feels so good. Your palms press firmly against his shoulders, nails biting at his skin. The clip that held your hair up had fallen out when his hands ruined your pretty updo. "Te ves tan bonita así, fuck," Carlos cursed under his breath, watching your tits bounce in his face. One of his hands groped them, thumb rolling over your nipple, watching your head roll back with a moan.

He looked up at you with dark, hazed eyes, leaned back to watch you properly, drinking you in, loving - worshiping, what he was seeing. Your toes curled as you ground your hips firmly down on him, finding an angle that made him hit your g-spot perfectly. Carlos' fingers slotted around your hips again, helping you up and down his cock as he felt you squeezing him. He got lost in how good you felt, how slick, warm and wet your pussy was, the obscene sounds that bounced off the walls in the sauna. A few strands of his hair hung in front of his eyes, which you slicked back with your fingers, his hair damp with sweat. His body was glowing, muscles prominent. You could feel him tense up under your touch, his breathy grunts telling you he was just as close as you were.

"Shit," you muttered, feeling his thumb rubbing firm circles over your clit again. Carlos started meeting your thrusts, hands pawing at your hips to keep you close. "You're crazy," you moan, knowing it wouldn't take long before he'd fill you with his cum. The thought of doing this, semi-publicly, made him throb inside you, especially as he knew you'd have to walk back to the cabana after. The image of his cum dripping down your thighs nearly made him go feral. You didn't even try to push away, you gladly let him slip into you deeply, a few more circles of his thumb on your clit letting you spiral into the most delicious orgasm. You looked down at him as he came, his abs contracting, eyes screwed shut. You admire him for a couple of seconds, moving your hands up his chest again before cupping his face.

"You make me want to bite you," you sigh. "In a good way," you add, nipping at one of his beefy biceps. "If you want me to eat you, you can just ask," Carlos says, his arms wrapping around you tightly. "I'll double it and give it to myself later," you muse, toying with the hair in the nape of his neck. You swivel your hips slightly, making him groan. "There are no people in line to use this sauna, right?" you ask, looking over your shoulder before getting off his lap, kneeling between his thighs. Your teeth bite into his equally beefy thighs, satisfied when a smirk shows up on his handsome face. His cock throbs when your lips come near it, blood rushing south again when your hand wraps around it. "Talk about crazy," he sighs, head lulling back when your mouth takes him in.

I was wondering that you could write a Aaron Hotchner x reader but the reader is a doctor and the team don’t know that you exist until hotch one day gets hurt and took to their hospital.

btw love all your fics ❤️❤️

<3333 anonnnnn, you are SO sweet.

-

Your phone had gone off before your pager had, with the nurses’ station calling you, Aaron’s emergency contact, to let you know that he had been admitted, which meant that you were already running towards the A&E, before your pager, calling you in as the doctor on call to the bay you were already running to, started to beep

“Aaron.” You throw back the curtains of the emergency bay, bracing for the worse, to find him seated on the edge of the bed, the nurse pressing a piece of gauze to his forehead.

You assess him from head to toe, your medical training kicking in, he is awake, alert, and upright, which meant to you that he was low risk. It doesn’t prevent you however, from snapping up his chart from the movable table, running through the notes from the paramedic as the nurse busies herself with patching up the scratches on his face.

“You could potentially have a concussion,” you state as you run through the chart, flipping onwards to the next page, “I’m keeping you here overnight.”

“(Y/N)..” he starts, and your eyes snap up to stare directly at him.

“Don’t (Y/N) me Aaron. It says here you jumped towards the bomb, instead of away from it, I think you’ll let me keep you here for one night.” Your eyes narrow as he falters slightly, his posturing sinking with defeat.

“Did she just?”

“Yup.”

“Are they on a first name’s basis?”

“Seems like it.”

The voices behind you have attempted to whisper, but not well enough. You turn, throwing your head over your shoulder to glance at the small crowd, while pulling your stethoscope off from around your neck and positioning it in your ears. A quick look at the guns each of them has buckled to their waist tells you that it’s his team.

“I’m Dr. (Y/L/N)” you throw out to the crowd as you move behind him to place the cool flat edge of the stethoscope on his back. “His girlfriend.”

It earns you a gasp and wide eyes.

“I see no one else was stupid enough to jump towards the bomb?” You say, hearing a deep sigh from Aaron through your stethoscope and a chortle of laughter from Derek.

“No we were not.” Rossi smirks, arms crossing over his chest.

This one is so beautiful and perfect 😍😍💖💖

Faultless - Aaron Hotchner x BAU!Reader

WC: 7.5k / navi / preview

Summary: After a car accident leaves you with a painful concussion, Hotch volunteers to be your live-in nurse so that you don't have to stay at the hospital. He's hellbent on spending the weekend doting on you, drowning in guilt because of the accident and your subsequent injury, but you're hellbent on spending the weekend getting him out of his bad mood.

Contents/Warnings: typical cm case mentions, slight gore/mentions of injuries, reader has a concussion, hotch is sad :((

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

“Easy,” Aaron muttered, his breath short from lugging your bags up the stairs while supporting you under one arm, “Don’t trip.”

You felt around the doorframe with your foot, making a point of stepping over the wooden board on the floor and crossing the threshold into your apartment. You had been exhausted before having to climb up thirteen flights of stairs, and you were going to complain for a very long time about the elevator being out of service on the one day you needed it the most.

You felt around blindly for your couch, gently tugging yourself out of Aaron’s grasp to sit down on the padded cushions. You could feel him still hovering over you, the concerned frown that had been settled on his lips all day probably still in place, but you couldn’t muster up enough professionality to open your eyes, to pretend like your head wasn’t splitting itself open from the inside out.

Your throbbing headache was the result of a rather concerning concussion, one that you’d acquired from your head hitting the dashboard after an unsub had rammed their vehicle into your own. You had been in the passenger’s seat, and thankfully the van had hit you by spinning out and sliding into your bumper instead of t-boning you. You were certain you’d be dead if he’d hit anywhere else.

You wanted to say that you escaped unscathed, but you hadn’t. Aaron’s hand hadn’t quite shot out fast enough to cover your chest and keep you pressed against the seat, instead it had brushed against your shoulder as you lurched forwards in your seat, your skull slamming into the dashboard. 

The medics had said it was only the locking of your seatbelt that had kept you alive. If it hadn’t given what little restraint it could offer (subsequently burning a line into your neck from where it slashed across your skin), you’d have shot completely forward, probably catapulting through the dashboard and dying before you hit the ground.

You’d never been more thankful for seatbelts.

You heard your bag being set down beside the sofa, then the soft click of your door being shut. Hotch was light on his feet as he trekked back through your apartment to stand beside the couch, not wanting to make your headache worse by storming around.

You heard rustling from beside your head, and you blearily peeled open your eyes to look for Hotch. He was much closer than you’d expected, kneeling on the carpet beside you, one of his hands reaching for the bandage on your forehead while the other held a new, fresh one.

“I need to replace this,” He tapped lightly against the end of the bandage, “You bled through it.”

You groaned at the harsh lighting above you, but knew that he needed it to rebandage your cut, so you nodded. You let your eyes drift shut again, only wincing momentarily as Hotch peeled the blood-soaked bandage from your wound and began tending to it.

You were somewhat surprised at how attentive Aaron was being. He had been kind to you since day one, letting you know that the rumors you’d probably heard about him from the rest of the team were just jokes, that he didn’t bite, and wouldn’t rip your head off. He’d apparently noticed your reluctance to relax around him, and wanted to ensure that you weren’t scared off by his reputation. You quickly learned that there were truths in both sides of the story, that he frowned far too often for his own good, but that he was a softie at heart.

You supposed that he had volunteered to take care of you after the crash for three reasons.

One being that he had been driving when you’d gotten into the impromptu accident. Of course, it hadn’t been his fault, the situation was out-of-control. But he often blamed himself for any casualties that happened on-site, simply because he was the Unit Chief. It meant that he was often plagued with guilt over situations that didn’t even concern him, and you’d have to be sure to comfort him later about it.

Two being that you were rather young for an agent. You had joined the team far earlier in your career than almost anyone else had, (save for Reid, of course), so you were, regrettably, babied. Sometimes it was more subtle and caring, like Prentiss remembering to pack your favorite snacks in her bag just in case you didn’t bring any. Or how Derek was always quick to offer up his windbreaker when you were outside without a jacket. But most of the time it was teasing, the way an older sibling would mock the younger one. 

When it was mockery, it usually consisted of playful shoves in the elevator, aggressive pinches to the cheeks, and constant mentions of you being half their ages or more. You were never discredited as a team member because of your age, but everyone was always jumping at the chance to remind you that you were young enough to be Rossi’s child.

That particular joke hadn’t gone over well with Rossi, either.

Then the third reason, similar to the second, you were their newest agent. Your age and your time at the BAU were significantly shorter than anyone else’s, and while one again, no one ever thought you incapable, you noticed that everyone had a tendency to watch over you a little more than they did anyone else.

Especially Hotch. You’d thought yourself delusional the first time you realized that he seemed to hover over you, side-stepping in front of you in potentially dangerous situations and sending medics to you before anyone else. But you’d come to accept that he was especially doting, even if he’d never admit it through the surly frown on his face.

This was extremely evident now. The unsub had died in the crash, a suicide committed so that he wouldn’t have to face years in prison. That left you and Hotch as the only surviving victims, and he’d pulled his seatbelt right out of the wall trying to get out of the car and around to help you. 

--

“Y/L/N,” He shook your shoulders urgently, “Y/L/N, wake up!” 

Your head was throbbing, your throat dry from screaming, and your neck burning from the scratch of the seatbelt. You wanted so desperately to let yourself go, to succumb to the comfortable darkness that threatened to envelop you whole, but the full-blown panic in Hotch’s voice stopped you. You’d never heard it that frantic before, and you used almost all of your strength to peel your eyes open, your head pounding at the sunlight.

“I need an ambulance,” He shouted into his earpiece, the sound only making your headache worse, “We have a federal agent down!”

“Don’t close your eyes.” He urged, his panic-riddled gaze flitting over your bloodied face. He held your head up, your neck too fatigued to support it, “Look at- dammit, look at me, Y/N, don’t close your eyes!”

You tried saying something, anything, but your chest was heavy and your mouth wouldn’t open. You saw the anxiety in his eyes, you wanted to reassure him that you’d keep your eyes open, that you’d pull through for him, but nothing came out. Instead, you studied his face, your eyes grazing over every stunning feature it displayed. His nose, ever-so-slightly crooked, was divided in half by an angry red gash. His eyebrow was slit similarly, a red ooze trickling down his cheek. His lips, always held in that intimidating frown of his, were trembling slightly, his teeth digging into the backs of them to hold in a sob. His hair was caked with sweat and blood, a crimson trail making its way down his temple, but you knew he’d be okay. 

He watched you watch him, his panic dwindling each time you blinked and your eyes reopened. The moment between you two was serene in a morbid way, both aware of the other’s near-death and both relishing in the other’s life. His own breathing was shaky, nearly shakier than yours, but he grounded himself with one hand on your cheek, the other behind your head and supporting your neck.

Sirens sounded throughout the wooded road, and the next unsteady sigh that came out of your mouth was one of relief. Hotch reluctantly looked away from your face, tracking the van that screeched to a halt in front of the crash site and rushed over to you both.

Hotch had helped load you onto the stretcher that they prepared for you, his hand never leaving your cheek as the other slipped around your waist. You stared blankly up at whatever happened to be in front of your face, but as you were loaded into the ambulance, your eyes lingered on Hotch’s bloodied form, standing outside and craning his neck to watch you be hauled into the back of the ambulance.

A medic began asking him what hurt, what possible injuries he might have, and if he could remember any part of his body getting hit specifically. But he didn’t answer while the doors were still open on you, only looking away when they shut in his face, obscuring his view of you.

--

You were honestly jealous that he’d escaped in such great condition. All he had to show for the accident was a sprained wrist and a few cuts, and your brain had been slammed into your skull.

You were jealous, but not resentful. You were glad that he hadn’t gotten injured further, especially because it meant that he was cleared to take care of you. The rest of your team had all volunteered, even Rossi stepping up to offer his nursing services. But Hotch had insisted, a self-loathing glint in his eyes as he told you he’d make sure you were alright over the weekend.

And as he kneeled beside your head on the couch, his tongue pinched between his lips in intense concentration as he rebandaged one of your cuts, you knew he would deliver on his promise. You just wished he wasn’t doing it out of guilt.

“That should last for a few hours.” Aaron smoothed the bandage onto your skin, his voice as low as humanly possible so as not to aggravate your headache further, “We’ll change them again after dinner.”

You let out a soft groan, raising one hand to cover your eyes, “I forgot about dinner.”

“You don’t have to eat if you’re not up for it.” Hotch used your coffee table for support as he stood.

“No, no,” You shook your head slightly, moving as little as humanly possible while doing so, “I meant, like, I don’t have anything here that we could eat. My fridge is empty.”

“It’s fine.” His hand came to rest on your shoulder for a second, a reassuring gesture because you couldn’t see his face, “We can order pizza.”

“Pizza,” You nodded hazily, “Yeah, pizza sounds good. I’ve got cash in the drawer,” You motioned vaguely to your kitchen, knowing full well you hadn’t been specific enough for him to locate it, “I’ll call later and we can-”

“Y/N,” Aaron interrupted you gently, “Don’t worry about that now. You need to take your painkillers, and the doctor said they’d make you drowsy. Why don’t you take them now, and you can nap until dinner?”

“But- but it’s already nine,” You protested weakly, “It’s too late for me to nap.”

“These are not normal circumstances,” You felt the couch dip by your feet, and you bent your legs, your calves pressed flush to your thighs, “You nap whenever you feel tired.”

“Are you hungry?” You peeked one eye open, wanting to see any hidden information he might have withheld from you otherwise.

“No,” He shook his head, and from what you could see of him, he looked truthful, “I can wait.”

You let your eye slip shut again, nodding once, “Okay. Where are the pills?”

They were harder to swallow than you thought they’d be, large and grainy and awkwardly-shaped. Aaron had to support the back of your neck while you sipped, and his other hand supported the water glass from the bottom, your hands too shaky to ensure a safe drink.

The water was heavenly, though, and you regretted not asking for some earlier. Your throat, dry and cracked from screaming during the accident, was soothed quickly by the icy liquid, and you finished the entire glass in only a few big sips.

“I can get you more, if you want?” Aaron’s voice came from directly beside you, and you shook your head lightly, slumping back down onto the pillows.

“No thanks,” You breathed, “I just want to nap.”

You felt a hand on your thigh, pressed close to your knee in a reassuring pat. Then a blanket was draped over you, most likely the fuzzy blue one that laid on the arm of your couch.

“Sleep for as long as you need,” Aaron’s final words to you sent a thrum of endearment up your spine that blossomed in your chest, “I’ll stay right here with you.”

Aaron fought the urge to reach out once more, letting his hand take up permanent residence on your leg. The gesture had been comforting, of course, but he couldn’t deny that it had felt cozy, natural even. He had never been one to get lost in his fantasies, but the single touch had him imagining all of the other blissfully domestic scenarios in which he could replicate it.

You’d be watching a scary movie, your brows furrowed in anxiety. You’d flinch at a jumpscare, tighten your hold on his arm, and he’d shift his hand over to your thigh, squeezing it gently in reassurance.

Or you’d be on the jet after a long case, your head slumped onto his shoulder. He’d rest his hand on your thigh, a soft but intimate gesture, so that you knew you could relax.

Or he’d be laying beside you in bed, his head on the pillow as your back rested against the headboard. He’d reach up and squeeze your thigh softly, compelling you to set down your book and finally lay down to sleep beside him.

His breath hitched and shame burned at his cheeks when he realized that he’d just let himself get lost fantasizing about being in bed beside his coworker. You were recovering from a concussion, one that he blamed himself for, and he was having delusions of married life with you.

He stood from the couch abruptly, shaking his head slightly at his unprofessional behavior. Your little apartment was stuffy from being closed up for five days straight, and he set off towards the windows, keeping the shades pulled for your head’s sake but slipping the windows open underneath. Fresh air rushed into the room and he breathed it in desperately, as if it would purge him of his delusions. 

He shut his eyes momentarily, exhaustion gripping at him but panic keeping him awake. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt the way he felt when your head had hit the dashboard.

He had reached out as soon as he’d seen it coming, desperately trying to catch you before you could get hurt. But he hadn’t been fast enough, hadn’t been strong enough, hadn’t been enough. You had slammed face first into the dashboard, a blood-curdling scream torn from your throat as your nose cracked. It was still crooked, swollen and bloody, but Aaron had just replaced the bandage over its bridge, and you’d mentioned that there was ice in the freezer if the swelling didn’t go down.

None of his own injuries were on his mind as he replayed the accident, the sinking hole in his chest as he’d watched you hit your head. You’d crumbled against the dashboard on impact, and he swore he’d never felt as much raw panic as he had in that moment. Being unable to get to you for those few short seconds had been agonizing, and he’d do anything to make sure nothing like that ever happened again. 

Once he’d finally gotten to you it was like it wasn’t real. He was holding you, you were looking at him, he was looking at you, but it didn’t feel real. It didn’t feel real that you were injured, and at the same time, it didn’t feel real that you weren’t dead. Nothing about the scenario felt real, and he’d stood there in paralyzing panic as he waited for the ambulance.

He’d been a wreck on the ride back. They hadn’t let him into your ambulance, and he’d kept eye contact with you until he couldn’t see you anymore, the doors shutting on your near-lifeless frame.

He hadn’t even accepted his own hospital room, forcing Reid to give the doctors one of his infamous ‘second opinions’ so that he could deny treatment and reach you faster. He was almost certain that the young doctor had only done so out of fear of losing his job, because the intensity that he knew had been present in his gaze at the time scared Reid.

As soon as the doctors had let him go, reluctantly so, he’d taken up a chair by your bedside, waiting restlessly for you to wake.

He turned back to your sleeping form on the couch, ready to go and sit down again. He wanted to sleep too, but he knew that he wouldn’t be able to, so he settled for the idea of sitting beside you, staring into oblivion while you slept. It was the most rest he was going to get for a few days, if his guilt never died down.

He realized that you’d shifted in your sleep, your feet now stretched out to the other couch cushion, the one he’d been sitting on. He started for one of your chairs, stopping before he could lower himself into one, and glancing back at you. 

He needed to be with you.

Holding your drained, near-lifeless body had been terrifying. He had felt your breathing shallow, had seen your eyes struggle to open, had watched the life dim in your eyes. Sitting across the room from you at that moment seemed like his personal hell, his fingers itched to feel the warmth of your skin and his ears longed to hear your calm, even breaths.

He padded to the couch, reaching carefully for your feet. He slid his hands under your ankles, lifting them off of the cushions and turning, sinking down onto the couch and resting your feet in his lap. 

It felt perfect, he could feel you, he could see you, he could hear you, but it felt wrong. It felt intimate, just like his hand on your thigh had. He lectured himself once more on not being delusional, his brain already cooking another domestic vision up before he could stop it. He kept his eye on you, his cheek resting against the back of the couch as his eyes drooped. Your chest rose and fell steadily, your eyes shut snugly, the bandage on your forehead no longer soaking up fresh blood. Your injuries were starting to heal, and Hotch took solace in the fact that you wouldn’t be plagued by your cuts anymore.

But your concussion, that would last. He knew that you’d be okay, it hadn’t been fatal, but you were going to suffer for a while. Guilt and despair once again stabbed at his chest as he thought about what it would be like if he had just caught you, if he’d reached over a split second sooner.

--

The painkillers that the doctor had prescribed you hadn’t fixed everything, but they had dulled your headache. It was a soft pounding now, instead of the raging fire that had burned behind your eyes. You blinked them open hazily, squinting around the darkened apartment and shifting to do so. Your feet hit something solid, and you felt it move beneath them. You peered at the other end of the couch, seeing your feet stretched out over Hotch’s lap as he dozed.

His face was set in a deep frown, worse than the one that normally adorned his features, as one of his hands laid over your ankles. You had assumed that in sleep, Aaron would relax, but it seemed as if he was even more stressed than before.

You felt an instant pang of embarrassment, you must have shifted in your sleep to lay your legs over his lap. You chided yourself on probably making him uncomfortable, though you couldn’t deny the butterflies that flitted around your stomach at the feeling of being so domestically intimate with him.

When he wasn’t barking orders at you, he was incredibly attractive. Actually, even when he was barking orders at you, he was incredibly attractive. You’d tried to suppress your feelings towards him, especially because he wasn’t just your coworker, but your boss, and you thought you had succeeded. Sure, the feeling of his hand on your cheek had been nice, the rampant concern in his eyes after the crash had been endearing, but you knew you had to settle for just being friends.

Your stomach grumbled, as if on cue after you’d just woken up, and you tugged your feet out of Aaron’s lap, sitting up cautiously against the arm of the couch. He didn’t seem to notice, although his unconscious frown deepened when his hand fell to his lap, and you grabbed your phone, ordering pizza for the both of you. You were happy that you remembered his favorite type of pizza from an impromptu late night at the office a while back, or you’d have had to wake him, and you wanted him to get all of the rest that he could. The delivery said it would be there in 20 minutes, and you used that time to get yourself another glass of water. It was a simple task, and your nap had apparently returned some of your basic capabilities, but you couldn’t deny that Aaron helping you drink had been better than drinking alone. The bottom of the glass was cold on your fingers, and you wistfully wanted his hand to be there instead.

You stood leaning against your kitchen cabinets, the living room behind a partition wall that shielded the couch from your view. Your apartment suddenly felt empty, and even though you knew Hotch was just sitting on your couch, you felt alone.

You weren’t sure how this would affect your feelings towards him. He’d already been so caring, so attentive towards you, and it was pushing you closer and closer towards a dangerous territory that you weren’t sure you’d ever come back from. You’d stayed sane by keeping a healthy distance between you, engaging in casual conversation or trading jokes, but pointedly avoiding sitting beside him in tight spaces or taking his jacket when he offered. Now that boundary was gone, and he was sleeping on your couch, your feet having been draped across his lap only minutes ago.

You were too lost in thought to hear the shuffling from your living room, but you were alerted to Aaron’s consciousness when he came rushing into the kitchen, eyes blown wide in panic before they settled on you.

“Y/N,” He breathed, his shoulders heaving as he let out a sigh of relief, “I thought- god, you were just gone, and I panicked.” He slumped forwards against the counter, blinking sleepily as he tried calming his pounding heart.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,” You set your glass down, leaning over to set a comforting hand on his shoulder, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” He nodded, rubbing an exasperated hand over his face and hissing in pain when it irritated one of his barely-healing cuts.

Blood began blossoming along the tear in his skin once more, and you tutted, pulling his hand away from his face. 

“You’re bleeding.” You reached for the bag of bandages that he’d set conveniently on the counter after patching you up, wetting a cotton ball with the disinfectant that sat beside it.

“You don’t have to-” He began, waving you off while prodding gently at his cut, but you cut him off, once again tugging his hand away from his cut.

“Just let me take care of it,” You barely caught yourself before saying ‘you’, deciding that ‘it’ was far less intimate. Your cheeks flared anyways, though, the knowledge that you’d almost slipped up haunting you as you cleaned up his cut.

The cut was on the apple of his cheek, just below his eye. Your thumb rested against the dark circle above it, the pliant skin flushed under your finger. You made a mental note to be sure he slept well this weekend, even if it would be on your couch for lack of a spare room. You felt his eyes on you as you cleaned up his cut, but pointedly avoided looking at him so as not to give yourself and your feelings away.

You weren’t sure if you’d survive gazing into his concerned eyes only inches away from his face.

You discarded the soiled cotton ball, your fingers slightly moistened by the chemical. The bandage crinkled beneath your fingers as you peeled the waxy paper from it, smoothly spreading the cloth over Aaron’s wound.

You left a soft tap on the pad of the bandage once you were finished, moving away to get yourself out of the potentially awkward situation as fast as possible. But you felt resistance, your eyes widening as you realized that Aaron’s hand was cupping the back of your neck. 

You weren’t sure how you hadn’t noticed him placing it there, but the suggestive warmth that it brought you had your concussion and the car accident wiped completely from your mind. 

All that was there now was Aaron, his dark eyes staring intensely into your own as he tugged you closer so that your noses were brushing. He seemed just as transfixed as you were, barely breathing as he drank you in. The short, soft breaths that he was taking were fanning gently across your face, grounding you even more in his presence.

“Hotch,” You murmured, not wanting to shatter the serene silence with your voice, “We can’t.”

You wished you kissed him. You wished that you’d shut your mouth, pressed it to his, and moved on with your day. You wished you hadn’t said that, hadn’t prompted him to ask ‘Why not?’

“Because,” You breathed, your voice shaky as he leaned imperceptibly closer to you, “We have to-”

The sound of the buzzer to your apartment interrupted your moment, the atmosphere shattering at the harsh sound, ‘Delivery!’

“-go get the pizza! We have to go get the pizza.” You slipped your head out from under his hand, rushing for the door and leaving him standing over the kitchen counter.

You answered the door with shaking hands, nearly handing the pizza man a $50 instead of a $20 for your $15 order. 

Aaron slumped against the counter with a heavy sigh. 

He hadn’t meant to lose what little control he still possessed after the accident. He supposed that the shock and terror at nearly losing you made him want to ensure that he never lost you without telling you how he felt. But that didn’t excuse his actions, or the mortified exit that you’d made as soon as you’d gotten the chance. Clearly, he’d made you uncomfortable.

You brought the pizza back to the kitchen nearly in tears, terrified at possibly never getting the chance to kiss him again. You’d wanted to, you’d even brushed away any fear of losing your job out of desperation to reciprocate, but you’d panicked. You had panicked because what if it wasn’t good? What if he didn’t like it? What if it was a spur-of-the-moment that he’d regret later, and you’d be the one he kissed out of pity just because you’d almost died? You knew that both of you were high-strung, emotions running strong, and you were sure that it was the only reason he’d tried to kiss you. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that he had even an ounce of feelings for you, not the same way you had them for him. You wouldn’t let yourself enjoy temporary happiness if it meant that ever-lasting heartbreak would follow.

“Y/N,” Aaron spoke as soon as you stepped into the kitchen, “I’m so-”

“Do you want one slice, or two?” You cut him off, standing as tall and confidently as possible with the boxes in your hands.

Aaron stilled, stiffening slightly against the counter, “What?”

“One slice,” You swallowed what little saliva was in your mouth, “Or two?”

He stared at you silently for a moment, his discerning gaze picking you apart. Finally, his shoulder slumped, his face falling as he muttered, “One.”

--

The meds that you needed to take before eating were a hassle. This time it was a liquid prescription, and Hotch provided the medicine cup that you needed to measure it out with. It tasted bitter and grainy, and you quickly shoved pizza in your mouth to mask the aftertaste.

“These are supposed to knock you out,” He squinted at the fine print on the bottle, hovering over you much less since your run-in in the kitchen, “It says you might be kind of out of it for the night.”

You nodded silently, keeping yourself as far away from him on the couch as possible. You knew he was watching you shy away from him, and you tried not to look at the expression on his face, whatever it was, because you didn’t want to see it.

If it was disappointment, you didn’t want to see it because then he’d be disappointed in you. If it was anger, you didn’t want to see it because then he’d be angry with you. But if you ignored it, if you never saw it, then it wouldn’t exist.

You ate your pizza in silence for a terrible, awkward, stifling few moments, during which you shoveled as much into your mouth as possible so that you wouldn’t have to speak. Finally, though, Aaron finished his slice, and opened his mouth, this time not to put pizza inside.

“Y/N, I really think we should-”

“Do you want to watch tv?”

“Y/N, I know you probably don’t want to talk about it, but-”

You had reached for the remote without letting him finish, clicking on the television and turning the volume up.

“Y/N,” Aaron spoke, his voice softer and more meek than you’d ever heard it before, “Please.”

You felt a hot wave of tears brimming at your eyes, and panickedly tried to blink them away, dread tugging your stomach down. The last thing you wanted to do was confess, but your medication was inhibiting your filter and making you more emotional.

“I’m sorry,” You blubbered, “I wanted to kiss you!”

You set your empty plate on the coffee table in front of you, the ceramic thunking against the wood, “I really wanted to kiss you!” 

Aaron watched you slump forwards, your face in your hands as you sobbed.

“Hey,” He reached out, setting his own plate on the table, “Don’t cry! Don’t cry, come here, Y/N.”

He slid his hands around your waist, tugging you upright and back onto the couch. He expected you to curl up against the other arm of the couch again, hellbent on getting away from him, but you fell into his lap, your face pressed against the material of his pants.

He brushed a cautious, gentle hand over your back, the other hovering awkwardly by your face. He couldn’t really see it, not most of it, anyways. Your flushed, tear-stained cheek was all that he could see as you sobbed into his lap, and he reached forwards, brushing a stray tear off of your skin.

“Don’t cry,” He repeated, his voice low, and soft, and soothing, “Y/N, it’s okay, don’t cry.”

“It’s not okay!” You gushed, rising from his lap as a steady stream of tears dripped off of your cheeks, “I feel gross, and you’re helping me, and- and you’re so sweet and I’m tired, and you’re so warm, and soft and I wanted to kiss you so badly but I- I got scared and now- now everything is messed up!”

“Shh,” Aaron cut off your ramblings by pressing his broad thumb to your lips, the rest of his hand cupping your cheek comfortingly, “It’s okay. You didn’t mess anything up, everything is okay.”

“It’s not!” You repeated, “I’m never gonna get to kiss you again, and I ran away! I ran away, god, I’m so stupid!”

“You’re not stupid.” Aaron fought back the smile that threatened to take over his face, upset at the distress on yours but elated to hear that you’d wanted to reciprocate, “I promise you I’m not upset, and- um, if you’d like the chance again later, maybe we can consider kissing again.”

“Do you mean that?” You hiccupped pitifully, a sniffle following it.

“I do,” He promised, half hoping that you wouldn’t remember the embarrassing promise he’d just made to you in the morning, and half hoping that it would be the first thing you asked for when you woke up, “I promise.”

You smiled weakly at his reassurance, blinking drowsily as your medication ran rampant. He continued rubbing your back, though his hand fell from your cheek when you spoke.

“I’m tired.”

He couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle, nodding reassuringly, “I thought you would be. Why don’t you lay down, you can sleep for the night and then tomorrow we can- oh.”

Without a second thought, you’d slumped over onto his shoulder, your arms wrapped around one of his own as you clung to his arm. In your hazy, post-cry daze, you pressed a soft kiss to his shoulder, the material of his quarter-zip soft against your lips. 

“I love you, Aaron.” You mumbled, your voice still wobbly from your tear-fest.

The admission struck him with the most comforting sense of shock, one that made a smile burst over his face. You shut your eyes without even waiting for him to respond, your legs tucked neatly underneath yourself as you designated him your pillow for the evening.

He knew you wouldn’t hear him, and even if you did, you wouldn’t comprehend what he was saying. But he said it anyways, leaning his head against your own and murmuring a soft, “I love you too, Y/N.” as you snoozed.

Aaron watched your chest rise and fall slowly and evenly, relieved that you were sleeping peacefully. He knew full well that you'd have a splitting headache for far too long, and was happy to see you get some temporary relief.

The dramatic reality show that you'd insisted on drowning him out with was still playing softly in the background, eerie music choices and startling sound effects amping up the ridiculousness of the surely-false story. Aaron reached for the remote that was in your hand, gently uncurling your fingers from around it. He set your hand back in your lap, but it found his once more, a soft whine coming from your throat as you shifted in your sleep.

Your head that had been slumped onto his shoulder fell forwards, your neck surely suffering at the awkward angle. He rushed to readjust you, but you followed the motion blindly, your head slumped into his lap. At first, your nose pressed against the zipper of his pants, and he panicked. Before he could adjust you, though, you turned over, nestling your cheek against his thigh facing the television instead. Your face relaxed from where it had been scrunched in unconscious concentration, a serene expression crossing it as you sighed contentedly.

Aaron thought it was the most adorable noise he'd ever heard. A soft smile threatened to break over his face after his panic, and for once, he let it. You weren't awake or coherent enough to see it, so why not? He smiled warmly, happily, adoringly at you as you slept in his lap. He reached for the blanket that had been folded on the arm of your couch, quickly shaking it out as best he could and draping it over your frame. You snuggled into it just as much as you had his thigh, and after a drawn-out moment of staring at you with a lovesick smile, Aaron let his head fall back against the cushions, his eyes slipping shut as he let sleep take him a happy man.

--

Waking up was warm. You blinked open your eyes, your gaze immediately landing on the plates that you hadn’t cleaned up from the night before. The pillow you were laying on was considerably comfier than any you knew were on your couch, and you rolled onto your back to see that it was, in fact, not a pillow, but your boss. 

Aaron’s face was relaxed as he slept, a stark contrast to his crankiness during his first nap. Now he looked serene, happy even, as he leaned back against the back of the couch, his hand draped over your waist. You were sure that sleeping at that angle would prove difficult for him, so you slowly sat up, humming softly as he stirred.

“What…” He mumbled sleepily, squinting around at your apartment, “What time is it?”

“Really? That’s all I get?” You propped yourself with one arm, your hand pressed flat against his thigh, “You promised me a kiss, you know.”

His eyes widened, any leftover drowsiness instantly vanishing as he stared down at you.

“That is,” You started, uncertainty lacing your voice, “If you’re standing by your promise?”

“You want to?”

“I do.” You nodded, waiting eagerly as he blinked owlishly, his brain running at full speed.

“So do I.” Was all he said before he surged forwards, capturing your lips in a kiss. It was lazy, somewhat sloppy, and uncoordinated, but it was perfect, because it was with him. You hummed softly into the kiss, leaning forwards to rest your forehead against his own, bringing him closer to you. 

You broke away after a few moments, keeping it short and sweet instead of dragging it out. You weren’t opposed to going further, not when it was Aaron you were with, but you were still concussed, and eager to rest. You let your head fall onto his shoulder, your nose nestled against the heated skin of his neck as he sighed contentedly, one hand coming to rest on your back.

“I can’t believe you remembered.” He mused, his voice slightly raspy from sleep.

“How could I forget?”

“I wasn’t sure if you meant it.” He added, “You were pretty drugged up.”

“I meant it.” You spoke softly, “I’ve meant it for a long time.”

“I’m glad,” Aaron admitted, “Me too.”

The silent serenity of the moment capture you both, and you nearly fell asleep again nuzzled into his neck. But your stomach grumbled, once more letting you know that it was time to eat, and Aaron chuckled softly at the sound.

“Breakfast?”

‘Breakfast sounds perfect.”

You moved out of his lap, your heart fluttering as he took your hand, tugging you up onto your feet and guiding you into the kitchen. The pizza box from the night before was still sitting on the counter, as were the medical supplies, but he pushed them aside, making room for your toaster.

“Anything on it?” He questioned, pulling two pieces of bread out from your loaf.

“Just butter.” You hummed sleepily, pulling said spread out from the refrigerator. 

As soon as he emptied his hands, the slices of bread now toasting, you snuck up behind him, your arms winding around his waist. He stiffened in surprise, but melted at the embrace, turning so that your face was flush to his chest instead of his back.

“How’s your head?” He asked, punctuating his query by smoothing his hand over your scalp.

“It’s better,” You started, “Not completely, but the meds seem to be helping.

“That’s good.” He seemed to tense when you told him it wasn’t completely better, the popping of the toaster giving him an excuse to turn away.

“Aaron?” You pressed, standing beside him and watching him open the butter, “Is everything okay?”

“Your head still hurts.” He mentioned dismissively, “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?”

“Because your head still hurts.” He deadpanned, waiting for you to prompt him further. 

“Aaron,” You started, your voice hesitant, "You can't seriously blame yourself for that car accident." You raised an eyebrow at him, knowing the answer but wanting him to hear the words spoken aloud.

"I do." He had no trouble admitting it, avoiding your gaze as he buttered the slice of bread he'd just taken out of the toaster, "You knew he was going to swerve, you even told me."

"I guessed he was going to swerve," You reminded him, "I didn't know."

"Well I didn't listen, and he did, and he hit us, and now you have a concussion."

“Aaron, stop.” You set a hand over his, taking the knife from his grip and abandoning the toast he was doctoring, “Look at me.”

He followed your instructions, meeting your eyes hesitantly, hoping to not showcase the self-hatred swirling in his own.

“You had no possible way of verifying whether my guess was true or not. We were in the middle of a high-speed chase, what if you’d stopped to avoid a crash but he’d kept going? We would have lost him.”

“We did lose him.”

“But now he can’t hurt anyone anymore. He didn’t get away. If you’d stopped, he would have.”

“But your concussion-”

“Doesn’t matter to me. We got the guy, that’s what matters to me. I’m okay, I’m alive.” You gestured down your frame, as if showcasing your living, breathing body, “And you’re okay, you’re alive. Yeah, I’ve got a week-long headache in front of me, but it’s worth it to me to know that that guy is gone.”

“You got hurt, though. We got him, and I’m glad. I won’t deny that. But I can still be upset about you getting hurt.”

“So can I,” You agreed, “But don’t be mad at yourself. I’m not mad at you, why would you be?”

“I… I just-”

“You just have a habit of blaming yourself for things you had no control over. And I won’t let you do it now.”

You huffed lightly at the end of your sentence, and it seemed to bring him out of his hesitancy. He cracked a slight smile, “You won’t let me?”

“I won’t.” You doubled down, “You’re not allowed to.”

“Yes, sir.” He teased, turning back to the toast and laughing incredulously when you bumped your hips against his, sending him stumbling sideways as he was caught off-guard.

“You need better balance.” You grabbed the knife that had slipped from his hands as he’d stumbled, buttering your own toast while he stabilized himself, “That almost floored you.”

“I wasn’t ready for it.” He insisted, a hint of a whine slipping into his voice that you’d never heard before, “No fair.”

“Anything’s fair now,” You laughed, “I’m injured and you have to be nice to me.”

As soon as you were finished buttering your toast you plated it, slicing it in half up the middle. You headed for the living room, intent on turning the television on and eating with Aaron, but he took you by surprise, charging you from behind and wrapping one arm around your waist, the other taking your plate from your hands so that it didn’t fall.

You shrieked indignantly as you lost your balance, but his arms snaking around your waist stopped you from falling. He turned you around, and you heard his soft chuckles against your cheek as he scooped you into his arms, letting you wrap your legs around his waist. You stared down at him breathlessly, your mouth hanging slightly open in surprise.

“You need better balance,” He mocked you, “That almost floored you.”

“Aaron!” You repeated his earlier comment, a bashful laugh escaping your lips as he held you tightly against him, “No fair!”

His laugh, deep and loud and comforting, made happiness swell in your chest, not even dimming when he set you down. You grabbed your toast once more, hearing him pad after you until you got to the couch, sitting much closer to him than you’d elected to the previous night.

“I’m gonna tell Garcia that you terrorized me this weekend,” You mused, biting softly into the buttered toast with a crunch, then as an afterthought, “Oh my god, what are we gonna tell her? The team, they’re all gonna find out. What do we do?”

“Nothing for now.” Aaron reassured you, setting a hand on your thigh while you ate, a smile growing on his lips as he remembered fantasizing about doing just that the night before, “We don’t have to be their big scandal yet, for now, let’s just be us.”

tags: @sunflowermotel @wheelsupkels @honeybrowne @aaronhotchnersbbg07 @la-stuffs @jhiddles03 @criminalmindsandmarvel @anlin2058 @averyhotchner @ink-and-fables-4-u @curr3ntlycry1ng @simpingfortoomanypeople @toomanyfictionalboyfriends

feedback is greatly appreciated! comment, reblog, talk in the tags, send me a message, tell me what you think!

That's something I like

wrapping up the last three hundred and sixty-five days with a round up of all the 'x reader' fanfiction I have published in 2022. thank you all for all your requests, feedback, reblogs and support over the last twelve months, especially during the 10k month of fic! sharing this love for these characters with you all is such a mental refresh for me, and hopefully I can publish even more fics in 2023. and I hope that you'll love all the new fics as much as you've loved these ones :)

happy new year!

full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///

BRUCE BANNER:

afterwards (drabble) *** aftercare with bruce.

bend, don't break (oneshot) *** /// the take a reprieve during a party, and take a new step in your relationship.

fear and loving in iowa (oneshot) when you’re injured in johannesburg, bruce blames himself.

fireworks (oneshot) thanks to the frigid air at the top of the tower, you share a tender moment.

first times (drabble) *** having sex with bruce for the first time.

p.s. (ficlet) an unfinished note leaves you confused during your college graduation.

restoration (oneshot) after johannesburg, you have nightmares. bruce provides you with comfort.

BUCKY BARNES:

bedside manner (oneshot) sam calls you to say bucky has been hurt on a mission,and you panic.

early hours (oneshot) *** after a mission, all bucky wants to do is crawl into bed with you.

morning grind (drabble) *** morning sex with bucky.

shards of glass (oneshot) *** /// you share a past, and now bucky's tracked you down to find closure.

CLINT BARTON:

after hours (oneshot) *** clint stops by your office after work to distract you the best way he can.

body heat (oneshot) *** /// the there's-only-one-bed trope in the back of an suv during a blizzard.

bound (drabble) *** clint is really into bondage and you're happy to spoil him.

coffee break (ficlet) there's an avenger bleeding in the bathroom of the cafe where you work.

crossroads (oneshot) clint receives an offer that could change his life & you encourage him to take it.

a delicate hand (oneshot) /// clint attempts to pull you out of a funk by helping you get ready for the event.

green light (oneshot) *** /// you surprise clint with a new toy, and he is very eager to try it out.

hey, you (ficlet) *** /// you receive a note from a certain avenger in the middle of a crowded bar.

in the stacks (ficlet) *** you steal a moment of intimacy in the back of a bookshop together.

respite (oneshot) when you’re hurt on a mission, clint has to convince you to take a breather.

think of me (oneshot) *** /// when you're dragged out for a night, clint has an idea of what to do in the club.

three a.m. (oneshot) /// a knock on your window comes from a certain injury-prone avenger.

we could play pretend (oneshot) you bond over all the little things you miss about being in a relationship.

welcome home (drabble) *** you welcome clint home after he's been away on a mission.

JESSICA JONES:

reprieve (oneshot) she has to drag you out of a dingy bar in the middle of the night.

snooze button (drabble) jessica isn't exactly a morning person.

MARC SPECTOR:

fast lane (drabble) *** /// marc gives you a preview in the car of what to expect when you get home.

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

follow my lead (oneshot) natasha offers to teach you how to slow dance.

PETER QUILL:

raincheck (oneshot) /// convincing quill to go to bed isn’t exactly an easy feat.

SAM WILSON:

miss me? (oneshot) you're finally reunited with sam in the middle of the battle of earth.

soul food (oneshot) /// when you’re sick, he ditches his responsibilities just to make you feel better.

STEVE ROGERS:

lost time (oneshot) *** late for your date, steve walks in on you working off your frustrations.

TONY STARK:

afterglow (drabble) *** after care with tony.

as you're told (oneshot) *** /// tony calls you to his office with a new game in mind…

between the sheets (oneshot) *** you've decided to try for a baby, and tony can't wait to get started.

come back to me (oneshot) after tony almost dies, you’re left lost and furious at what just happened.

count (oneshot) *** /// tony is nothing if not a giver. but… he is also a bit of an asshole.

echo (oneshot) /// you’re struggling to forget the past, so you try to bring part of it back to you.

idiot (drabble) *** just an soft, sexy moment between the two of you.

insatiable (drabble) *** the real question is, which one of you is the bigger tease?

mood lighting (ficlet) *** tony spoils you by candlelight.

on your knees (oneshot) *** the idea of having you on your knees is far too tempting for tony to resist.

quick question (oneshot) tony has a question to ask you, battlefield be damned.

red and gold (ficlet) an afternoon in central park lets you appreciate the seasonal color change.

simple pleasures (drabble) *** tony loves nothing more than eating you out.

sober hearts (oneshot) a look at your relationship as it has evolved over the years.

spare key (drabble) *** you give tony a key to your apartment.

subtlety (oneshot) *** impatient, you make use of the ‘emergency stop’ button in the elevator.

warm hands (ficlet) *** the two of you share an intimate interlude out in the snow.

WANDA MAXIMOFF:

hold tight (oneshot) *** /// she loves to spoil you & sometimes that means leaving you a quivering mess.

reflected in you (oneshot) you try on your new uniform, and wanda helps you find your confidence.

spicy sweet (oneshot) *** you plan on surprising wanda, but disaster means a change of plans.

sweetness (oneshot) *** /// wanda loves the way you sound, and doesn’t care who else hears it.

THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:

hands free (oneshot) *** /// you find clint on the phone, and you can’t help but distract him.

player three (drabble) *** /// clint x bucky x you. game night takes a turn when they team up on you to win.

SERIES:

to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - more to come...

tags: @startrekkingaroundasgard @wittyforachange @lovely-dreamer19 @castieltrash1 @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @ruderavenclaw @enna-core @hearmyharmony @katsies @youralphawolf72 @whovianayesha @bradfordbantams @alice-the-nerd @ace-fandom-dumbass @kaelyn-lobrutto24 @twsssmlmaa @earth-pig-fish @hallothankmas @meeksmusic83 @fallinginlovewithqueue @justanothermagicalsara @dragon-chica @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @starrynightsforever @baku-writes @sorryurnotbrucebanner

This one needs more appreciation 💖💖

Mercifull - Maximus Decimus Meridius x (Fem)Reader

Gladiator (2000) Oneshot

Warnings: Confession of suicidal thoughts ( reader makes it and he talks her out of it), some age gap ( reader is young lady fan in age of looking for marriage).

Summary: The company of your favorite gladiator is the only bliss your father has been able to obtain for you since the rule of Commodus got you fearing for your lives.

Bought in clandestinity through the aborrecent mechanisms of roman corruption, your one moment to show Maximus thankfullness for the positive impact he had in you becomes your time to present him with a small part of the comfort fate has denied him through his endless sufferings.

Notes: First piece of Gladiator fic I ever written, inspired by the lovely @wildsaltair and an idea that wandered my mind post rewatch. Despite the grim topics in the warnings, I need to clarify it is mostly a comfort fluff

Maximus wasn't counting with more visits at night and the reminder of Lucilla's warnings regarding the depraved customs of wealthy ladies in Rome haunted him when he got the news. He would have yet to receive someone else, fault of his increasing popularity. It was matter of time untill fame would bring that sort of attention to him and he despised it. Forced to be in the presence of the buyer of instants from the misserable life he had yet to live, he would deny them of the one thing they really paid for. Frightening disdain could be enough to make a corrupt rich matron think twice before venturing.

Once he had you face to face, you confused him to no end debunking all previous assumptions. In his eyes you appeared like a portrait of innocence. A polite young lady that smiled for him with shy blush, not the attitude expected for a lascivous woman seeking satisfaction for her wicked desires from a gladiator. Nerves kept you awakardly silent as you advanced towards him and Maximus followed your every move with disconcerted curiosity.

Only after the guard allowed you some privacy, he finally got to hear your voice.

" It's a great honor, … to be in the presence of the most honorable champion … "

You suddenly interrupted yourself, giving him the impression of a previously practiced introductory speech falling due to excitement.

" … I brought you a humble present, just a honey cake. Self made, none of my slaves were involved. Unfortunately, the guards said we can't have it … What is a shame, because I thought something sweet would be comforting for your spirit. "

Adoration of the purest was all you were showing him. If he could have any doubts about what kind of woman you were, it was all confirmed for him.

For the first time since his life was ruined, something amused him enough to throw a few chuckles.

" You shouldn't be here. What would happen with your suitors if the rumour spreads that you frequent champions at night? "

The inmediate, correct implication showing he knew you couldn't be a married woman had slightly shamed you.

" Do you think that troubles me now? A lot has changed since Commodus crowned himself emperor. What used to concern me feels meaningless. Great damage has he inflicted in such brief time! Giving him a lifespan to rule, he will be the downfall of Rome. If the world our people have built may end, I can at least spend a small portion of my family's fortune for a meet with my favorite gladiator. "

Despite presented as sensical reasoning, your comment made him wary for motives that you couldn't possibly predict.

" Did Lucilla send you as last resort to soften my heart? "

You didn't feel called out in any way and replied with increasing honesty.

" I have no business with her, here I am on my own. My desperate father paid hoping our meeting could reanimate the walking corpse his beloved daughter has become. Your performance in the arena awakened her from the letharge and for once she resembled herself again. "

Unsure of what you meant, he tried to disuade you the best he could.

" He wasted it, I have nothing for you. Not even legendary words of comfort you may treasure for the rest of your life. If an infatuation with the shade of myself you saw brought you here, I'll have to warn you there is no life left in me to share. "

The dark warning had a contradictory effect. Probably because of the frustration caused by such terrible start of the encounter with your idol, some of your initial shyness was slowly dissipating.

" My two brothers gave their lives for Rome, only so Commodus would claim mine! " You admitted right away, controlling yourself to not indulge in reckless yelling. " I know, I saw it in his eyes when I had to swear loyalty to him out of fear. My father ... I am all he has left after sickness claimed my mother and war deprived us of my brothers. Commodus will come for me first. Sooner or later, he will. His wicked smile haunts my dreams turned into nightmares. Your company is the last wish of an innocent who fears herself already sentenced. Can't you not grant such small mercy? "

Maximus no longer could show himself detached from your pleads and your strange fascination became more understandable to him. Far from a superficial admiration, you were moved by his claims. Was that the sort of power Lucilla attributed him? Inspiring terrified people and awakening the conciences of those who remained numb of distractions? He was once a general, but it was not his place to be a revolutionary leader.

And yet, he couldn't help to feel intrigued about your story. He was not in the place to reach you any comfort, but could grant the mercy of listening to you. After all, yours was a moving image for him. Youthfull enough to make him suspect you could as well be a beloved daughter and someone else's fiancee. Innocent and kind, sweet and respectfull of a mere slave.

He relaxed his closed fists, then gave only a few steps closer to you to test if you weren't going to retrocede out of any possible fear of pyshical closeness.

" I am not a good companion, a balsam for desperation, but would like to know what made you expect to find that in me. "

You remained in your position, glance turning softer again before you looked at the ceiling as if you would be confessing yourself to both, him and the gods.

When your eyes were back on him you shrugged, making him smile from amusement.

" Everyday I see the masses supporting him I experience the powerlessness of Cassandra as the trojans cheer arround the wooden horse, because she knows the terrible secret it hides. All what's left for her being the repugnant hands of the lesser Ajax, Agamemnon and the axe of his wife. "

Revisiting the first impression he got of you, Maximus found the comparison fitting. Not because of the terrible fate it augured, but because the image of the beautifull princess cursed with awareness suited with your ways.

" Who am I in this? The priest of Neptune doomed to die for sharing your truth? "

He made you chuckle, but you resumed seriousness to insist with your point.

" You exposed the truth nobody wants to hear loud enough for them to stop ignoring it, and in that I found hope. Your ragefull bright could have burned the cursed artifact of Ulysses. Inspired by it I dreamt of outliving this curse falling upon us."

Your will to share was reaching dangerous territory, but you felt so comfortable with him that you didn't mind to make him the keeper of a secret not even your most trusted slaves knew.

" Before I found you, I was inclined to believe my only way to win would be following the path of the egyptian queen. Take my own life on noble, painless terms before he would command for me the most horrible and humilliating of deaths. My only hope, Maximus, was dying celibate. It was your vengefull hunger for survival what inspired me to think otherwise, ... to crave life. And I am here to show my grattitude, because for a brief instant you made me live again."

It baffled him, incapable of conceibing he could have such strong amount of influence from his position as a doomed entertainer. Aside from the scandall he caused revealing himself, his actions had palpable concencuencies in the most unexpected ways. His cursed existence had a meaning for some, a very real and touching effect on them. Thinking it from the perspective of political manipulation, the sister of the emperor forgot to mention it could reach beyond that.

" My life is brief, girl. I may die tomorrow and what would be left for you to look up to? Survive for your father, your loss would weight too heavy in his heart. Become the wife of a fortunate roman and make him proud. A family to look after will give you the purpose you lack. "

His advice induced you into a very obvious, but delicate conclussion.

" They are your purpose, the reason why you haven't given yourself death yet. Only in your memories they remain, and in the day you will perish, the last glimpse of their existence goes with you. "

Tears began to fall down your face and the sight contained his anger to a mention done by a stranger about his massacrated family. For as incredible as it was, you were the very first person willing to join his mourning.

"You are clever to interpret feelings in the way an augur follows divine signs. "

He managed to bring out one more smile in your still tearfull countenance.

" I suppose that saying I am sorry for your loss would come out as a very empty gesture, but if you indulge me, I will do better to reach you a humble expression of the comfort that was cruelly denied to you. "

The distance between you was shortened at every instant by action of your own approach. Before he would dare to object, your arms were trapping him in an intempestive hug. His chained wrists remained still in their position at the sides, restricted his movement by the ties and his suprise. Your sweet embrace was squeezing thight his firm form, head resting on his chest as if you intended to hear his heart beating.

He stayed there, numb to the comfort that the heat of your body and the scent of jasmines in your skin produced him. From the most ironical of places had someone succeded on the impossible task of caughting him out of guard. Not the fighters on the arena, or the emperor of Rome, but a sweet girl and her infinite kindness.

Unable to respond by receiving you in his arms, he placed a chaste kiss on top of your forehead as soon as you tilted your head up searching for his face.

There were no more tears left in you, only the sweetest delight.

" There are certain moments that can worth for a lifetime and I will treasure this as such. "

He smiled against your skin and pressed another peck.

" You will live again, even if I will not be there to see it. You are strong, way stronger than you think. The kindest roman that my new life has put on my way. "

The praise embarassed you and confused you simultaneously.

" What difference can that make against a monster like Commodus? He has no mercy."

" That doesn't mean he is not fond of finding it on others displaying it for him. " He clarified before completing another advice. " Adoration keeps him pleased. Show him just a brief glimpse of what you have done for me and you may disarm him, like you had disarmed me tonight."

Authentical disbelief to the implied confession made you overlook the rest.

" Have I done that? "

" Your arms are still rounding me. " Maximus reminded you with sweet amusement. " Do you think I would have allowed that if you wouldn't had awakened some sort of weakness? "

You released him a inmediately, raising up your hands with an innocent expression.

" I only meant to comfort you, to share the flame of hope you awakened in me. "

" And you did, … but now it's time for you to leave." He thankfully disencouraged you. " The more time you spend, more dangerous it becomes. If his spies haven't followed you, rumours could lead to a similar end. I want you to never show fright in front of him again, but you will if he finds a reason."

The reminder was sensical and you didn't protest against it.

" Thank you for your mercy, Maximus. "

In that he intepreted your acknowledgedment for the emotional closeness you both had reached through the encounter.

" I could only respond to your mercifull ways, good lady. "

Help!!!! I can't stop reading fanfics about Sebastian Stan. I need urgent therapy!!!!

This is one of my favourites!!!! It's so good and cute💖💖

Hey girl, I hope your having a good day

I was wondering if you could write a Hotch! fem reader where they're married and have been for like year's but the team doesn't know about it and one day Morgan calls out Hotch and they both answer! I hope that made sense. Love your blog💕

Hotch? Which one?

Gif by hqtchner

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Wc: 1.7k

Warnings!: fluff, kissing, mentions of a child case, not.al criminal minds things, maybe kinda suggestive, playful and soft Hotch, but seriously super fluffy

Description: You are secretly married to the one and only Aaron Hotchner, what happens when Morgan yells out Hotch, and you both answer?

A/n: awe, thank you 💕 seriously loved this idea, hope you all do too! Sorry it took me so long to get out! Anyways, here is some Hotch fluff for your Saturday night ;)

-Masterlist-

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Your eyes flutter open as you feel a warm pair of lips on your neck. You sigh contently, but bury your face in your pillow, not ready to get up yet. A deep chuckle fills your ears and you smile to yourself as his arm wraps itself around your waist.

"Goodmorning sweetheart." He whispers into the morning air.

"G'morning." You murmur sleepily. The kisses start up again and you giggle at the ticklish feeling, turning around in his arms. He pulls back slightly, and he just stares at you. 

"God, you're beautiful." He says and leans forward to place his lips on your own. You kiss him passionately as your heart warms at the compliment. 

"Dont wanna get up." You mutter against his lips and he chuckles again. 

"You have to sweetheart." He sits up on his elbow peering down at you. "We have that conjoined case today."

"Oh, don't remind me." You roll your eyes as Aaron softly tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. "We have to pretend, again." You whine and he sighs. "Do you know how hard it is for me to pretend that I'm not in love with you?" 

"Probably just as hard as it is for me." He pauses, thinking for a moment. "We could, just tell them." He suggests and you freeze, a little shocked by his words.

"Honey, are you sure? I know we're in different departments, but you said you wanted to be professional. And I mean it keeps us safer. I guess it doesn't matter, up to you. Maybe we should, I mean my team knows, but yours doesn-" He cuts off your rambling with a searing kiss and you freeze for a moment. He pulls back and it takes you a few moments to process words. Your husband's kisses usually have that effect on you.

"So do you want to tell them?" You ask after you catch your breath.

"Yes. As soon as this case is over." You smile and nod.

"Okay. But we aren't ever going to finish the case if we don't get up." Aaron rolls over top of you holding himself up with his arms on either side of your head.

"If you insist." He starts, placing a kiss on your nose. "But maybe… a… few… more… kisses…" He places a kiss on your lips after every word, already forgetting that he was trying to get you up in the first place.

* * * 

After several more kisses, you and Aaron finally make your way into the office, just in time for your two teams to meet together in the bullpen. You are eternally grateful that no one finds it suspicious that you both come in at the same time. Probably thinking you just had a meeting together before the case. Your teams head to the conference room after seeing you walk in not noticing Aaron's hand on the small of your back.

Little did they know of the wedding rings resting on your necklace under your blouse and Aaron's on a pin under his tie. 

When you think about it, it wasn't really your plan to hide your marriage. You never thought you would be one to hide the love for your husband. But then you had met Aaron Hotchner. Funny enough, it had been a conjoined case similar to the present case. Aaron being the unit chief of the BAU and you the unit chief of the Child Crimes Unit, you clashed. A lot. 

Never getting along, your teams dreaded cases where you had to get together. Of course, one case in particular hit a little too hard, and Hotch had found you curled in a chair, crying in one of the break rooms. He had rushed to your side in an instant, comforting you through your tears. That night you had seen a whole different side of Aaron Hotchner. 

Of course that one moment turned into a beautiful new friendship. Which had led to dates and kisses and a secret relationship. A marriage was soon to follow, and you both wanted to married so bad, you had just eloped. Only Rossi, Jack, and Jess by your sides. Rossi officiated the small ceremony and that was about six months ago. 

You had told your team after a month, fining it too difficult to keep it hidden. They had all agreed to jokingly call you Hotch, after hearing Aaron's own team do it to him.

You had already talked to them about avoiding that in today's case.

Aaron had found it harder to tell his team. They were his family. But he wanted to protect you as much as possible. Especially after Haley. 

Your thoughts are dragged away from a small kick under the table. You turn to your left, and spot your husband with a slight smirk on his face. The meeting continues, Garcia presenting the case.

"Alright lovelies, and guest lovelies! We have three murders, all local, all 10 year old boys." She begins and you take a deep breath preparing yourself. As much as you loved your job, it was always hard to hear of all the horrible things people did to these poor kids.

A hand finds its way to your thigh and squeezes to ground you. You shake away your wandering thoughts again and focus. 

"They were all killed the same way, strangulation. Coroner says it was a pillow over their face, while sleeping." She takes a deep breath before continuing. "Local police have no leads, and are desperate for help." Hotch looks up at his team and yours listening for ideas.

"Could be remorse." Davis, one of your agents speaks up first. Jj and Reid nod along.

"It's almost peaceful. He doesn't want to hurt the kids, but he feels he needs to." Morgan adds.

"I suggest looking into people who have lost a child." You suggest.

"You got it babe. Got more for me?" Garcia asks and the teams continue to go back and forth with ideas, nothing really building up the profile. Idea after idea is passed around. Everyone was beginning to grow frustrated, the tension building in the room.

"What about a sick kid? A kid in pain?" Prentiss starts rattling off. She stands and begins pacing. Wilsom, one of your best agents, stands as well.

"Yes. The remorse, the peaceful killing, it all makes sense." He starts.

"When did the killing start?" Aaron asks.

"Three months sir." Garcia answers.

"Check out parents, male, early 30s, who recently lost a child to disease, an accident, anything." Hotch speaks and Garcia is instantly typing away.

"Two hundred seventy four hits." 

"Try limiting it to the victim's profile, men with a ten year old boy." Jj pipes up.

"Thirty seven hits." 

"The child would have been in pain, he believes he is stopping the pain. He doesn't want the kids to hurt anymore. He thinks he is helping them." Garcia shakes her head, that doesn't lower her search at all. You think and think. 

"There has to be something else. I want everyone to look into the jobs of the suspects. I know it's a lot, but there are a lot of us. The quicker the better." You say and Aaron nods.

"What are we looking for?" Rossi asks.

"He would have needed to blend in. Parents couldn't have been suspicious of anything. Repair men, plumbers, electricians. Anything. Get to work." Hotch announces and everyone stands moving around. You and Hotch begin discussing more of the case, trying to find different angles when Morgan speaks up.

"Hotch?" You and Aaron both turn around at the name, ready to answer.

"Yeah?" Two voices ring out and it takes you a moment to realise you and your husband had both answered. You freeze and so does he. The room is tense and silent. Your team stares at you with smirks on their faces, and Aaron's with shock. 

"What?" Spencer is the first one to say anything, case seemingly forgotten for the moment, his brows furrowed, and you giggle at the situation. Aaron looks at you and smiles softly. 

"Alright. I guess we have some explaining to do." He says and Rossi chuckles patting him on the back. 

"Hi guys, I'm Agent Hotchner, nice to meet you." You say with a smirk and wave slightly. Garcia's mouth falls open and Morgan lets out a loud laugh. 

"Im sorry. What?" Emily looks more confused than you have ever seen her and you can't help but begin laughing again. You leave it to your husband to explain. But he himself looks like he is barely keeping it together.

"We may, or may not have gotten married." Hotch says way too casually for anyone to process. Its only silent for a moment more before the room erupts with questions and shouts of congradulations. You catch money being exchanged between Wilson, Rossi, and Davis and they each shoot you a wink. You roll your eyes as Hotch tries to calm his team.

"Alright! That's enough." He says sternly, but you see the twitch in his eyebrow and the smirk threatening to break out on his face. "Yes, we are married, yes we eloped. No, we aren't talking about this now. We can discuss it when the case is over. Please get back to work, I will be in my office if you need me." He finished with an official tone and he swiftly walked out of the room. All eyes fall to you and you take that as your cue to follow your husband. You smile softly at the team and quickly walk out of the room. 

As soon as you shut the door to his office, Aaron has you pressed against the door, his face buried in your neck as he laughs.  

"Did you see their faces?" You asked, amusement filling your voice. He nods and presses a sloppy kiss to your neck. Pulling back, he gazes at you and shakes his head. 

"God. They are going to kill me." Aaron whispers. "Seriously. I think Garcia was planning my murder." You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"Oh please. You'll be fine." You say and he smacks your ass playfully. 

"Yeah, you don't have to deal with the wrath of Penelope, so shut it missy." You giggle and wrap your arms around his neck kissing him gently. 

"You are ridiculous."

"But you love me."

"That I do."

"I love you too sweetheart." And he kisses you, or at least tries to through your giggles.

----------

Thanks for reading!! <3

In the next 3 months, you will be richer, happier, wiser and healthier!

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→ enemies (to lovers) prompts

"fine, continue to act like you hate me."

"don't you dare look at me that way. not now, after every vile thing we've done to each other."

"i hate you, i hope you don't forget that after tonight."

"why can't we just let whatever this pointless rivalry is go?"

"oh really?" / "yes, really." / "lying doesn't suit you, sweetheart."

"last time i checked, you guys were at each others' throats. how come you're sending heart eyes every time you see her now?"

"i might not be the best at this thing, but like hell i would let you be better than me."

"this is a one-time thing only. don't let me being nice to you get to your head."

"well, well, well. look who's running back into my arms. i told you that i'm irresistible, didn't i?"

"i am not driving home with you, are you crazy?"

"i may not like you, but i'm not heartless."

"say goodbye to being first place, asshole."

"you sound pretty hot when you shut up."

"you know, i still don't really know why i used to despise you."

"happy second anniversary, honey. remember when you first dumped an entire bowl of soup on my lap?"

"the world could really use some of your silence right now."

"your opinion doesn't matter. next, please."

"it seems like i'm out of fucks to give, oops."

"i don't need your pity."

"there are only three things in this world i truly cannot stand: you, you, and you."

"any time something bad happens to me, you've always been there. are you cursing me or something?"

"take your time, darling. hell's happy to wait for you."

"fuck you." / "i'm flattered, really, but no thanks."

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