#as if i do not know that he is actively driving

[sugarushwriting]

cherry popper

heeseung x reader

getting your cherry popped by popular f-boy, lee heeseung

adult content featured, read at your own discretion

requests are open

tonight, you were on a mission. on a mission to get rid of your virginity! maybe a frat party wasn’t the best place to lose your virginity, but you knew who you wanted to take it.

lee heeseung.

except you didn’t know if he cherry popped girls or wanted them already experienced.

you couldn’t blame him or any guys though if they preferred not to be the one to take a girl’s virginity. there was a bad stigma around girls who had sex for the first time.

they became attached. needed rose petals and slow sex. needed to cuddle afterwards.

well, not you. at your age, you just wanted it out of the way. the term “virginity” was stupid anyway.

you’ve heard the good things about lee heeseung when it comes to his bed activities. so why not lose your virginity to a guy who was 99% sure to make you come your first time?

there’s nothing more depressing than having your first time be with a guy who is terrible in bed.

your friend knocked on your forehead with a laugh. “you okay?”

you nodded with a smile. “still on the hunt.”

“he’ll be here any minute. just remember, don’t pounce on him. you have to seem mysterious. he’s never seen you here before, so just seem uninterested. he’ll come to you.”

“got it!” you nodded and took a small sip of your cup. you didn’t want to be drunk or even tipsy, but just wanted enough to calm your nerves.

you’ve heard how alcohol ruins some people’s sex drives. even heard the term, ‘whiskey dick,’ so you’re hoping heeseung doesn’t suffer from that.

forty minutes passed, and you still hadn’t seen heeseung, giving up to even look for him. you sighed and looked at your friend.

“i’m going to the bathroom.”

“need me?”

you shook your head. “i’ll be fine.”

you made your way up the stairs, following your friends directions to the bathroom upstairs. your pink miniskirt for sure was covering nothing of your behind, but your friend convinced you to show more skin than usual. your baby tee was tight and short, perfectly flaunting your chest.

once you finished in the bathroom, you quickly gave yourself a once over look in the mirror and opened the door, only to run into a tall figure.

well if that wasn’t perfect timing and a coincidence by the universe.

“hmp, sorry!” you huffed out looking up to eye heeseung.

“no worries baby. haven’t seen you around here before?” he smiled.

oh damn he was a smooth talker.

“oh yeah—first party, with, um, my friend.” you stuttered out.

there was no need for you to pretend to be all shy around him. his aura made you shy. you still had to force yourself to not outright ask, ‘hey heeseung, can you take my virginity?’

all heeseung was doing was smiling at you and you felt intimated. how the fuck were you gonna get this man in bed?

heeseung proved to be easy.

his eyes flipped from your eyes to your lips, back to your eyes, suddenly wanting a taste of the girl who’s never been to a party before. who he has never seen before.

his thumb traced your bottom lip, his own bottom lip being caught between his teeth. “i saw you downstairs with your friend, and thought to myself, ‘damn she’s hot as fuck.’” heeseung whispered out to you.

“re—really?” you asked surprised.

how long has he been here? eyeing you? why hadn’t you seen him walk in?

he nodded, “i knew i had to have you.” he said leaning down to kiss your lips with a peck, leaving you wanting more.

yeah, he wanted you for sure because yes, you were cute, but also, fresh-meat at this party. he couldn’t let his friends get to the cute new girl first.

from observation, he could tell you were the shy type, and he was allured even more by you because of that.

the peck left you wanting more. his lips were just so soft. you’ve kissed boys before, but his lips were the softest.

“mhm, wanna make out?”

“are you twelve?” you teased at the way he asked you.

heeseung chuckled. “just trying to be polite.”

you nodded. he grabbed your hand in his, intertwining your fingers together. heeseung pulled you to a bedroom at the end of the hall.

surprisingly the room was clean and neat. you’ve seen the horror pictures and movies and videos of frat houses.

your friend had told you, the upstairs was completely off limits and they reinforced it. but if you had to use the bathroom (the clean one) sneak upstairs. she had distracted the guy blocking the stairs.

you stood in the middle of the room awkwardly, after heeseung let go of your hand, walking towards the bed.

he smirked. “no need to be shy.” he patted his lap. “you can come sit.”

he wants you to sit on his lap?

you slowly walked towards him, slowly resting on his lap. your knees on either side of his hips. his own hands went to rest on your hips.

bringing your lips down to meet his, you both started making out like a bunch of horny teens. heeseung took it slow with you at first, before his kisses became more desperate and longing. wanting more from you.

his hands squeezed your hips, catching you off guard, and he took the opportunity to poke his tongue in your mouth.

your hands wrapped around his neck, your lower half beginning to feel a bit wet. heeseungs own lower half was starting to get hard, you able to feel him through his jeans and your short skirt.

you rubbed your lower half against him, heeseung letting out a low gritted moan. “keeping doing that and i will come in my pants.” he gripped your ass from under your skirt.

you smiled against his kisses. “again, what are you? a teenage boy?”

heeseung actually loved the teasing. he squeezed your hips tighter, tickling lightly, causing you to squeal.

he flipped you on your back on the bed so he was hovering over you. his lips never leaving yours, he lifted your skirt up more, pulling your underwear to the side.

his middle finger rubbed circles around your clit and the hole of your cunt, teasing you to get you worked up, slick, and ready for him.

his finger teased at your entrance, he could feel the tightness of you.

although you’ve pleasured yourself a few times, your fingers were in no comparison to heeseung.

heeseungs finger slowly entered you, his lips still not leaving their spot from you, and as he slowly inched deeper, you whined into his mouth at the feeling.

slight sting but feeling good. heeseung slowly added another finger and began pumping his fingers in and out of you, his lips moving to suck on a sweet spot on your neck.

an odd sensation came, you riding heeseungs fingers, feeling your stomach feel tight, your cunt becoming needier.

“ride my fingers, there you go.” heeseung said to you.

you bit your lower lip and an over pleasuring sensation came over you.

did you just come? you thought it’d be more intense than that.

you felt good, and when he went to rub his fingers against your clit, you did feel over sensitive.

you didn’t realize heeseung had left a hickey on your neck.

heeseung removed his fingers from you, standing up to unbutton his belt and pants pulling them and his boxers down.

leaning on your elbows, your eyes widened at his length. aw shit.

heeseung pumped his own length a few times, “mhm, open your mouth.”

“can you be a little nicer?” you asked with a smile.

“please open your mouth?”

you nodded and scooted towards the end of the bed where you sat comfortably while heeseung stood.

you licked his tip, swirling your tongue around the head before slowly taking just the head in between your lips giving it a suck.

“please don’t tease.” heeseung sighed. your mouth just felt too good.

you smiled with his dick in your mouth, opening a bit wider to take his length in as much as you could. your hand stimulating whatever was left over and his balls.

you did have a gag reflex, and you weren’t about to test it now.

“fuck, so good. please come to these parties more often.” heeseung sighed out as your head pumped back and forth against him.

you sucked, your tongue swirling against the underside, your hand putting small pressure on his balls, squeezing just right for him.

heeseungs hand went to the back of your head, and when he pushed a bit for more than you could take, you choked, your gag reflex kicking in.

you pulled away, needing to breathe, a line of your spit between his tip and your lips.

“fuck that was hot. i love a girl with a gag reflex honestly.” heeseung moaned. he took your jaw back in between his hands, his thumb tapping your lower lip to open.

you followed, and he stuffed his dick back into your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat, you gagging once again.

heeseung had to control himself to not lose control and just fuck your face.

as you bobbed your head, heeseung also moved his hips back and forth. “mhm, mouth feels so good, i’m gonna come.”

you used your hand to help stimulate what your mouth couldn’t. heeseungs moans became lower and more messy.

“fuck, can i come in your mouth?”

you nodded, and that’s all he needed before hot spurts of his come entered your throat. heeseung let out strings of curse words in pleasure.

“fuck that was hot.” he mumbled, catching his breath.

with your skirt still flipped up, heeseung undressed your lower half completely, and he finished taking off his clothing, grabbing a condom from the pocket of his jeans.

most girls would probably be like, ‘return the favor!’ but if you came one more time without his dick, you wouldn’t have the stanima to go a third round on his dick. tonight, you were okay with giving a blowjob and not getting your pussy ate.

heeseung kissed you, tasting himself, biting your lower lip, all while slipping on the condom.

you hadn’t realized how fast and skilled he was until you felt his head prodding your hole.

“oh fuck!” you whispered. your eyes squeezed shut, one hand gripping his shoulder, the other the bed covers.

“mhm so tight, like no one’s ever fucked this pussy.” heeseung mumbled out.

he slowly eased into you, feeling the warmth and resistance but thought nothing much of it. heeseung thought maybe you just hadn’t been with a guy of his size.

you bit down on your lower lip, the stinging sensation back, you fighting off the feeling of the pain trying to focus on the pleasure.

breathing deeply through your nose, you tried your best to relax, heeseungs eyebrows knitted in confusion and focus.

he slowly moved his length back and forth, feeling your hand tighten on his shoulder.

that’s when it hit him. the tightness and resistance. your eyebrows knitted, eyes closed. your hand having a death grip on him and the bed.

“are you fucking serious?” he said out loud, taking you off guard, you opened your eyes, “are you a virgin?” he narrowed his eyes at you.

a tear dropped down your cheek, you sniffling your nose. “please don’t be mad.” you sighed out a little sob.

heeseung shook his head. “it’s not that im mad, im just—i don’t know.”

regardless, heeseung didn’t pull out, but he didn’t move further. he stayed still inside of you.

you sniffled again. “it’s just—i—i was tired of being a virgin, and i heard about your reputation of being with a lot of girls and being able to please them. i didn’t want my first time to suck, and i debated on telling you, but i didn’t know if you were the type to get an ick when it came to virgins!”

heeseung lowered his head in shame. he couldn’t believe someone who sucked dick so good was a virgin.

“you suck dick too good for a virgin.” he said then raised his eyebrow at you.

you smiled shyly, “i uh, never did that either.”

“fuck! what have you done that i wasn’t your first?”

“i’ve used my own fingers, but of course that doesn’t compare to yours. and yes, i have kissed others before.”

heeseung sighed, “this is bad,”

before he could finish you cut him off, “no! it doesn’t have to be okay? i promise i won’t get attached, i am not expecting anything from you after this okay? i don’t need roses or cuddles either. i know what i’m getting myself into, heeseung.”

“you know my name, but i don’t even know yours. can i at least have the name of the girl’s virginity i took?”

you told him your name. “i’m really sorry, i didn’t mean to undermine you.”

heeseung laughed, “yes you did and it’s honestly okay and kind of refreshing. usually im the one undermining girls.”

all while this conversation went on, heeseung was still hard and sat still in you.

“i’m surprised you’re still hard.”

“my dick is in a tight pussy. a virgin pussy. must have a virginity or corruption kink, i guess.”

“i’m okay. can we please continue, heeseung?”

heeseung nodded slowly. “only if i can be the first one to eat that pussy too.”

you chuckled, “as you wish.”

heeseung began to move, his pace slow. he finished bottoming out, a loud moan leaving your lips, but you tapped his shoulder with two fingers, to let him know to keep going.

heeseung pulled out to his tip, before he bottomed out once again. although you were a virgin, he wasn’t going to be too gentle with you, and you were okay with that.

after a few thrusts it began to feel better. “mhm, feels better heeseung.” you groaned, your head resting to the side.

you wrapped your legs around heeseung, locking him in, your hand resting on his cheek, bringing him down for a kiss.

“can’t believe you let me fuck this pussy first. chose me.” heeseung moaned. “so happy you let me fuck you first. going to ruin you for anyone else. not going to want anyone’s cock but mine.”

heeseung began his spew of dirty talk, which just made you wetter by each statement.

who knew dirty talk would turn you on so much.

“looks like my cherry likes dirty talk.” heeseung laughed as his pace sped up just a bit.

heeseung sat up on his knees, taking you at a different angle so he could reach deeper, and closer to your cervix.

you looked down, able to see the outline of him inside of you. you moaned at the sight.

“look at you. taking me so well. so tiny underneath me. too big for you baby.”

heeseung slightly put pressure on your lower stomach, your legs wrapping tighter, as you lifted your hips.

“gonna make you come on your first cock, cherry.”

“please make me come, hee.” you begged, your mind going blank, your vision blurry with tears of pleasure.

spews of groans, moans, random words leaving your mouth, mixed with heeseungs name.

oh yes, this was the intense orgasm people talked about. what your friends talked about, and gloated about.

heeseungs finger went to rub circles on your clit, adding pressure which tipped you over the edge.

his dick thrusting in and out. the angle of his dick hitting somewhere within you so good. his thumb on your clit. his palm pressing down on your stomach. his dirty talk and praises.

you were overwhelmed with pleasure. and in no time, with one last scream and cry, heeseungs name leaving your lips, you came around his dick.

heeseung helped you ride out your orgasm while he reached his, stilling inside you, emptying into the condom.

heeseung collapsed above you, nose to nose, and he gave you a peck on your lips, then moved his face to the crook of your neck, leaving a kiss there.

he pulled out, your lower half fluttering at the loss of him, both of you moaning from loss of each other.

heeseung rolled on his back, and took off the condom, noting a little blood. when he looked down, no blood was on him, but he was worried about you.

he looked over to you, no blood on the sheets.

“what?” you asked sitting up, feeling a bit of an ache already settling in.

“let’s get you to the bathroom. there was a bit of blood on the condom.”

your face felt hot in embarrassment. “i’m sorry.” you mumbled.

heeseung kissed your forehead. “no need to be embarrassed. it’s normal and it happens.”

heeseung got up and you followed him to the bathroom.

you made sure to empty your bladder, just tiny spotting. you groaned. “i can’t ruin my underwear.” you sighed. this was so embarrassing.

heeseung opened the cabinet, you looked over seeing pads and liners. looking back at him with a glaring expression.

“this is jays bathroom. he’s a romantic, always making sure whatever girl he’s with at the time is covered.” heeseung explained, scratching the back of his head.

“maybe i should have had jay take my virginity then.” you joked.

heeseung didn’t laugh. “absolutely not. you’re off limits to him and any of my friends now.”

crossing your arms, you stared into his eyes, “now who’s the clingy one after taking someone’s virginity?”

“get used to it cherry.”

“cherry?”

“yeah, cause i popped your cherry.”

you pushed his shoulder. “you are so—!”

“sexy? handsome? amazing in bed? i know.”

you both laughed easing any tension or doubts between one another.

heeseung left you to finish your business in the bathroom and get dressed, as he got back dressed in the bedroom.

you felt guilty allowing him to take your virginity—have sex—in his friend’s bed.

when you came out the bathroom you said, “should we offer to wash his bed sheets?”

“don’t worry, he’ll make me wash his sheets, cleanse his room, perform an exorcism.”

you both chuckled opening the door, jay leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed, not a happy smile.

“i lock my door for a reason! you’re damn right you’ll be washing my bedding AND performing that exorcism.”

poor jay.

[kiwriteswords]

Unveiled

Masterlist || Ao3

AN: This has been on my to-write list forever...hope you guys like it!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Female Reader

Word Count: 4k

Tags/Warnings: Mild Injury, Mentions of Field Work, Secretive Behavior, Slight Jealousy, Light Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Vulnerability, Secret Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Marriage, Canon-Typical Themes.

Sypnosis: You and Aaron Hotchner have always been experts at keeping work and personal life separate—so much so that the team doesn’t even know you’re together, let alone married. But secrets can only stay hidden for so long, especially when small details start catching everyone’s attention.

The BAU bullpen buzzes with the usual hum of activity. Cases to close, profiles to refine, and endless paperwork to finish. You settle into your desk with a practiced air of nonchalance, tugging the sleeve of your blazer slightly to cover the delicate wedding band now gracing your finger.

The slim band--simple, not flashy, was perfect for both your personality and the line of work you were in. You could count the times on one hand how often JJ had to get her ring fixed or cleaned from the damage being in the field caused. You did not need diamonds or an extravagant engagement or wedding. You had everything and more with the man who had the matching band upstairs. 

You glance across the bullpen, up to Aaron’s office. He’s buried in a stack of reports, his expression unreadable, as always. His left hand is occupied with a red pen, and the thin gold band is barely visible but there nonetheless.

Your lips twitch into a subtle smile as you recall the whirlwind of the weekend: the drive to a secluded courthouse, the soft vows spoken just for each other, the quiet, private moment that bound you and Aaron together in a way only you two could understand--with Jack present, of course. Eloping had been a mutual decision, spurred on by years of hiding, countless near-misses at being caught, and the realization that you were done living for anyone but each other.

Ever the lawyer Aaron was and ever the practical woman you were, you knew marriage was essentially just paperwork. Personally, it did mean a lot more to the both of you in terms of commitment, so that’s why you both decided to do it on a whim, to begin with, but there wasn’t a need for the white dress or all the bells and whistles that you both found overkill. The slim gold bands were enough. The vows were enough. The love you shared was more than enough.

Now, the fun part began.

You turn back to your desk, shuffling through files with purpose as the team begins trickling in. The usual morning energy hums around you, but it’s impossible to ignore the slight thrill of knowing what you’re both hiding—and knowing it won’t be hidden for much longer.

“Hey, Y/N!” Penelope’s voice cuts through the air, cheerful as ever. “Doesn’t this day feel extra special for some reason? Like the world’s just radiating good vibes?”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Maybe it’s just you, Penelope. You’re the good vibes.”

She beams, clearly pleased with the answer, before skipping off to annoy Morgan. You catch Aaron’s eye for the briefest second, and the corner of his mouth twitches—a rare, subtle sign of amusement.

The team trickles in gradually. Rossi strolls past your desk, sharp as ever, with his coffee in hand. His sharp eyes flicker to your hand, and he slows just slightly, one eyebrow quirking upward.

“Nice ring, kid,” he says, voice casual but curious. “I didn’t know you were seeing anyone serious enough settle down.”

Your breath hitches for a fraction of a second, but you quickly recover, offering him an easy shrug. “I like to keep my private life... private.”

Rossi had been the hardest over the years to keep at bay. Somehow, it became second nature to be so…secluded in your personal life. It wasn’t that you or Aaron were not sharing with the team, but you never felt the reason to shake things up. You, with your budding career, and him, with his reputation as a leader, why change that? 

Rossi hums thoughtfully, clearly filing that information away for later. You glance over at Aaron again, his focus still trained on the file in front of him. His poker face is maddeningly perfect, but you know he’s listening intently.

It isn’t too long after that a new case brings you to the round table room. You can’t help but feel that there is still an unspoken buzz in the air. Rossi’s comment made you jumpier than you’d like. Not that you’re hiding anything, but the idea of change…makes you uneasy. 

Aaron sits to your right, perfectly composed as always, flipping through the latest case files. His left hand holds a pen, the thin gold band on his ring finger catching the light with every movement. You glance at it, a quiet rush of warmth filling your chest. Your husband. It’s still a surreal thought. You could feel the faintest hint of amusement radiating from him, even if his face betrayed nothing. The quiet thrill of your secret filled the air between you.

You refocus, nodding at something JJ says about an update from the field office, but you can feel Rossi’s eyes on you. He’s seated across the table, his sharp gaze catching every detail. A slow, knowing smile creeps across his face, but he says nothing—yet.

“Anyway,” JJ continues, looking up from her notes, “we’ll need to coordinate with local law enforcement to finalize those interviews.” She glances over, and her eyes snag on your hand mid-gesture. Her words falter for a split second before she quickly recovers. “Morgan, you’ll take the lead.”

Morgan nods, clearly only half-listening. His focus has also shifted—to Aaron, more specifically. His brow furrows as he leans back in his chair, arms crossed. “Hotch, you got something new going on?” His tone is casual, but his grin betrays his curiosity. “That’s one hell of an accessory you’re sporting.”

Aaron doesn’t miss a beat, his voice calm and measured. “I wasn’t aware my ring warranted commentary, Morgan.”

Morgan smirks, glancing at Rossi. “Oh, come on, man. You walk in here wearing a wedding band out of nowhere? You can’t expect us not to say something.”

Rossi leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled under his chin. “And here I thought I was the only one paying attention,” he says, his voice rich with amusement. “Seems our unit chief had quite the weekend.”

The rest of the team snaps to attention. JJ’s head jerks toward Aaron, her eyes widening as she looks between him and you. Penelope, sitting at the far end of the table, gasps audibly.

“Wait,” Penelope exclaims, her voice rising in pitch. “You’re married now? When did this happen? Who’s the lucky lady? Why wasn’t I invited?”

“I’m not the only one,” Rossi interjects smoothly, his gaze now fixed on you. “Looks like Y/N had a busy weekend, too.” He nods toward your left hand.

You glance at Aaron, a silent exchange passing between you. His lips twitch into the faintest of smiles—so brief it’s almost imperceptible. But you catch it.

Penelope’s sharp intake of breath breaks your focus. “Wait a second,” she says, leaning forward, her gaze darting between you and Aaron. “Y/N, is that... a wedding ring?”

Your heart skips a beat, but you keep your voice steady as you respond. “What about it?”

Morgan leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and smirking. “Hold up,” he says, nodding toward Aaron’s hand again. 

All eyes turn toward Aaron now. He calmly finishes jotting a note before closing the folder in front of him. “Is this relevant to the case?” he asks, his tone perfectly neutral.

Rossi tilts his head, his sharp gaze bouncing between you and Aaron. His lips curl into a knowing smile. “Interesting,” he says slowly, leaning back in his chair. “Very interesting.”

JJ’s brow furrows as she glances between the two of you. Her eyes widen slightly as realization begins to dawn. “No,” she says softly, more to herself than anyone else. Then louder, “Wait a second—are you two—?”

You glance at Aaron, and he gives you the slightest nod. With a small sigh, you lean back in your chair and let the corner of your mouth lift into a smirk. “You really don’t know?” you ask, your voice laced with amusement.

Aaron follows up, his tone carrying a faint edge of dry humor. “I thought you were better profilers than that.”

The room goes completely silent as the pieces click into place. Emily gasps, pointing between you and Aaron. “No. No way. You two? Are you telling me you’re married to each other?”

Morgan bursts out laughing, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “You’re telling me you’ve been dating this whole time, and none of us knew? I don’t believe it. You two are way too good at this.”

Penelope’s jaw drops. “What?! Oh my God, I feel so betrayed! How could you keep this from me? I should’ve been your bridesmaid—or at least in the loop!”

Aaron raises a hand, his calm authority cutting through the chaos in the room. “We made the decision to keep our relationship private to maintain professionalism,” he begins, his tone firm but warm. His eyes sweep the room, landing briefly on each team member before continuing. “This team works best when there are no distractions, and we both agreed that our relationship couldn’t interfere with that.”

He pauses, glancing at you. There’s a moment of silent understanding between you before you speak up, your voice steady but lighter than his. “It wasn’t about hiding, exactly. It was about making sure we stayed focused on the work that matters. But,” you add with a small, wry smile, “we eventually realized we didn’t need to keep it a secret anymore.”

Aaron picks up where you leave off, his tone softening slightly. “Especially now that we’re married,” he says, letting the weight of the words settle over the room. “We didn’t make this decision lightly, and we both value the integrity of this team above all else. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t.”

The room falls quiet again, the team absorbing the revelation. You can see the wheels turning in their minds as they piece together the years of subtle interactions, quiet glances, and the seamless way you and Aaron have worked together all this time.

JJ breaks the silence first, her expression shifting from shock to a warm smile. “Well,” she says softly, “congratulations. You both deserve to be happy.”

Morgan leans forward, his grin widening. “Alright, I’ll give you two credit—this is the best-kept secret I’ve seen in a long time. But man, Hotch, you’ve got some explaining to do. Married? Without us knowing? I’m hurt.”

Rossi chuckles, shaking his head. “I should’ve seen it sooner,” he says, his tone amused but approving. “Still, I can’t say I’m surprised. You two make sense.”

Reid almost looks relieved, “I thought I was the only one who didn’t pick up on things like this.” 

Penelope is the last to recover, her hands flying to her cheeks. “Oh my gosh! This is so romantic!” She gestures wildly between you and Aaron. “Secret agents in love, sneaking off to get married—it’s like a spy movie! Please tell me there are pictures. I need pictures. And cake! Why isn’t there cake?”

You laugh, finally letting yourself relax a little as you glance at Aaron. He gives you a small, almost imperceptible smile—one the others might miss, but you recognize instantly. Beneath the table, his pinky brushes against yours, a subtle reminder that you’re in this together.

“Alright,” Aaron says, his commanding tone bringing the room back into focus. “We still have work to do, and I expect everyone to stay focused on the case.”

Morgan leans back in his chair, still grinning. “Yeah, yeah, boss. But this conversation isn’t over.”

Rossi smirks. “Don’t worry, Derek. Something tells me there’s more to this story, and we’ll get the details eventually.”

You exchange a knowing glance with Aaron as the team begins to settle down, still buzzing with excitement. It’s out in the open now—no more hiding, no more secrets. Just you, Aaron, and the life you’ve quietly built together finally shared with the people who matter most.

The case wraps up after a grueling few days. The unsub is in custody, and while the tension of the investigation still lingers, the mood on the jet back home is noticeably lighter. The team is scattered around the cabin—Morgan and Rossi are in their usual seats, discussing the finer points of profiling techniques, while Spencer is engrossed in a book.

You find yourself seated with JJ and Emily at the small table near the galley. Emily is flipping through a magazine, and JJ is scrolling on her phone, but their attention shifts to you when you pull out your phone and casually unlock it.

“You know,” you say, leaning back in your chair with a small grin, “since you all feel so left out, I figured I’d show you some photos from the elopement.”

Emily’s eyes snap up from her magazine, and JJ’s face lights up with interest. “Finally!” Emily exclaims, leaning in. “I thought you were going to make us beg.”

JJ nudges your arm. “I’ve been dying to see these. Penelope’s already planning a post-wedding celebration for you two.”

You chuckle and swipe to the photo album. The first image you show is a candid one—a shot of you and Aaron outside the courthouse, his hand resting gently on your back, both of you mid-laugh. JJ lets out a soft “Aww,” and Emily whistles low under her breath.

“Look at you two,” Emily says, her tone teasing but fond. “Who knew Hotch could look so... human?”

You laugh, swiping to the next picture, a close-up of your intertwined hands with your wedding bands gleaming in the sunlight. “He’s full of surprises,” you quip.

As you share a few more photos, some with Jack, some Jack actually took of you and Aaron.

Aaron walks by, a cup of coffee in hand. He pauses when he notices the three of you huddled around your phone. “Are you showing them the photos?” he asks, his voice calm but tinged with curiosity.

“Of course,” you reply, looking up at him with a playful grin. “They demanded proof.”

Aaron hums thoughtfully, his gaze softening as he leans slightly over the table. “You should show them the photo from last year. The one from the Amalfi Coast.” There’s an amused glint in Aaron’s eye’s that makes you want to roll your own, but you satisfy everyone anyway.

JJ blinks, looking between the two of you. “Wait. The Amalfi Coast? Together?”

Emily narrows her eyes, clearly piecing something together. “Hold on. Didn’t you both take time off around the same time last summer?”

Before you can answer, Reid speaks up from his seat across the cabin, his voice laced with disbelief. “You mean the trip to Italy? I remember you both mentioned visiting Italy, but I never connected the dots that you were there together.”

Morgan, catching the tail end of the conversation, leans over the back of his seat. “Hold up—that’s what you were doing last year? You two were off in Italy, sipping wine and living the good life, and we had no idea?”

Rossi chuckles from across the cabin, shaking his head. “It’s impressive, really. I mean, a courthouse wedding is one thing, but hiding a vacation together? That’s next-level stealth.”

Emily laughs, gesturing toward your phone. “Alright, show us this Amalfi Coast picture. I need to see the evidence.”

With a shake of your head, you scroll back to the album from the trip. You find the photo Aaron mentioned—a picture of the two of you standing on a sunlit terrace overlooking the ocean, the breeze catching your hair while Aaron stands beside you, looking uncharacteristically relaxed in a linen shirt. You hand the phone over, and JJ and Emily lean in closer.

“This is so unfair,” JJ says, shaking her head with a smile. “You two look like you walked out of a travel magazine.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe we didn’t put this together sooner,” Emily adds, smirking. “I mean, Hotch in a linen shirt? That should’ve been the giveaway.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint chuckle, taking a sip of his coffee. “I told you we were better at keeping secrets than they gave us credit for.”

You grin, leaning back in your seat and crossing your arms. “Well, now you all know. Mystery solved.”

Reid looks up from his book, still shaking his head. “I feel like I should’ve noticed. The behavioral cues were there...”

Morgan snorts. “Don’t beat yourself up, kid. They had us all fooled.”

JJ hands your phone back, smiling warmly. “Well, for the record, I’m glad we know now. You two really are perfect together.”

Aaron catches your eye from where he’s standing, his expression soft but steady. It’s a look that speaks volumes, and you know you’ll both carry this moment—this quiet joy of finally being yourselves with your team—for a long time.

As the jet hums softly beneath you, you settle into the warmth of the conversation, knowing that the life you’ve built with Aaron is now shared with the people who matter most.

When the jet touches down, and the team unloads into the bullpen, you barely have time to gather your things before Penelope corners you and Aaron. She’s been dropping comments all case long—about needing details, demanding photos, and lamenting her exclusion from what she’s now referring to as The Most Romantic Secret Ever Kept—but this time, there’s no escape.

“Alright, you two!” Penelope exclaims, her hands on her hips as she plants herself in front of you both. Her eyes sparkle with determination. “I’ve been patient. I’ve waited through an entire case, and now you owe me. Spill it. All of it. When, where, how? I need the full story.”

Aaron glances at you, his lips twitching in faint amusement. “I told you this would happen,” he murmurs under his breath.

You chuckle softly and look at Penelope. “Fine,” you say, holding up your hands in mock surrender. “We’ll tell you—briefly.”

Penelope’s expression brightens instantly. “Finally!” she squeals, clapping her hands together. “Okay, start from the beginning.”

Aaron crosses his arms, his authoritative posture intact but his tone softer than usual. “It started a few years ago,” he begins, glancing at you. “Not long after you joined the team.”

You nod, picking up the thread. “It wasn’t planned. We just... clicked. We kept things professional at first, but over time, it became harder to ignore. Eventually, we decided it was worth exploring, but we agreed to keep it private.”

Penelope’s eyes are wide as saucers. “Years? You mean to tell me you’ve been dating for years, and I had no idea?”

Aaron tilts his head slightly. “We were careful,” he says simply. “We didn’t want our relationship to interfere with the team dynamic or the work we do.”

“And we didn’t think anyone would benefit from knowing,” you add. “It was easier to keep it between us.”

“But how?” Penelope presses, leaning closer. “I mean, we’re profilers! How did you manage to keep it under wraps?”

You exchange a knowing look with Aaron before answering. “We’ve always been good at separating our personal and professional lives,” you say. “At work, we focused on the cases. Outside of work... we had each other.”

Aaron nods. “We were deliberate about our interactions here, and we made sure not to let anything slip.”

Penelope looks genuinely impressed, though she’s clearly not done grilling you. “So, no one ever suspected? Not even Rossi?”

You laugh. “Oh, Rossi definitely had his suspicions,” you admit. “But he never said anything outright.”

Aaron smirks faintly. “I think he enjoyed watching the rest of you try to figure it out.”

Penelope groans dramatically, throwing her hands in the air. “I can’t believe this. You two are like... spy-level secretive. I don’t know whether to be mad at you or impressed.”

“Be impressed,” you say with a grin. “It’s less stressful.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at both of you, then sighs. “Fine. But only because you’re ridiculously adorable together. And because I’m still planning a post-wedding party. You’re not getting out of that.”

Aaron shakes his head with a faint smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

With that, Penelope finally relents, though she shoots you both one last look that clearly says she’s not done asking questions. As she flounces off to her office, you exhale a soft laugh, turning to Aaron.

“Well,” you say lightly, “that went better than I expected.”

Aaron’s gaze softens, and he leans in slightly, his voice low. “She’ll be back.”

You laugh, shaking your head as the two of you head toward your offices. It’s out in the open now—your story, your love, your life together. And though you’ve enjoyed the secrecy, there’s something freeing about finally being able to share it with your team.

After a long day and an even longer week, the bullpen finally clears out. The soft hum of computers and the faint buzz of the overhead lights are the only sounds left as you and Aaron prepare to leave. You gather your things, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as he approaches with his jacket draped over his arm.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and steady.

You nod, falling into step beside him as the two of you head toward the elevator. There’s an unspoken ease between you; the weight of secrecy finally lifted. When the elevator doors close, Aaron glances at you, his lips quirking into the faintest smirk.

“You know,” he says, his tone laced with quiet humor, “we don’t have to stagger our exits anymore.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “No more waiting ten minutes so no one sees us leaving together?”

“Or arriving,” he adds. “No more separate cars or pretending to run into each other in the parking lot. We’ve been doing that for years. I think it’s become muscle memory.”

The thought makes you smile as the elevator dings, and you step out into the cool night air. You walk together to the car, and the rhythmic click of your shoes is the only sound. When you slide into the passenger seat, and Aaron starts the engine, the hum of the car fills the silence.

As he pulls onto the road, you glance over at him, the city lights casting fleeting shadows across his face. “Do you ever think about all the close calls?” you ask, your voice quiet but teasing.

Aaron’s lips twitch in amusement. “All the time. Like that day you got hurt in the field.”

You know exactly which day he means. It’s burned into your memory as much as his. “You mean when I dislocated my shoulder chasing that suspect?”

He nods, his tone softening. “I remember standing over you, trying to keep it together while the EMTs worked. I wanted to pick you up and carry you to the ambulance myself, but I couldn’t. All I could do was stay professional and keep my voice steady.”

You smile faintly, your heart tightening at the memory. “I remember how calm you sounded, even though I could see it in your eyes. You hated every second of it.”

Aaron glances at you briefly, his eyes filled with something deeper. “It was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Morgan even asked me later why I seemed so shaken. I had to play it off as just another day in the field.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Well, you were convincing enough. I think I was more worried about you slipping than about my shoulder.”

He lets out a low chuckle, his focus on the road. “That wasn’t the only close call. Remember Kansas City? The hotel?”

“Oh God,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. “I thought for sure Morgan would figure it out. He knocked on my door right after you left.”

Aaron smirks, glancing at you briefly. “What did you tell him?”

“I said I was up late working on the profile,” you reply, grinning. “Which wasn’t a lie, technically. I just left out the part where you were with me.”

Aaron shakes his head, amusement glinting in his dark eyes. “How about all the times we shared a room and no one noticed?”

You laugh, sinking back into your seat. “That was a miracle. Every single time. Can you imagine if anyone went looking for you in your empty room?” 

“Or walked past at the wrong moment,” Aaron adds, his voice tinged with humor. “I can’t believe we managed to pull that off.”

You grin at him, your tone teasing. “We probably wasted so much of the Bureau’s money on extra rooms we didn’t need.”

His lips twitch into a smirk. “I think we’ve earned it, considering the hours we’ve put in.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “Still, we were playing with fire. Like that time Rossi knocked on your door in Denver. I thought for sure he’d notice something.”

Aaron chuckles, his tone more amused now. “Rossi always noticed. He just didn’t say anything.”

“Probably because he enjoyed watching everyone else flounder,” you reply with a grin. “He was always a little too smug.”

The car falls into a comfortable silence as the memories wash over you both—the near-misses, the stolen moments, the countless times you had to act like nothing more than colleagues. Now, with the secrecy behind you, the memories feel more like a badge of honor than a burden.

Aaron pulls into the driveway, turning off the engine before glancing at you. His expression is soft, his voice quieter now. “No more sneaking around,” he says. “No more separate cars or extra rooms.”

You smile, reaching for his hand. “Just us.”

The two of you walk inside, your home warm and inviting as you settle in for the night. The conversation drifts back to the little things you had to do to keep your relationship under wraps—the cover stories, the excuses, the times you almost slipped. But the laughter and warmth you share now make it all worth it.

As the night deepens, you both revel in the freedom of no longer having to hide. It’s just you and Aaron, building the life you’ve always wanted… with Jack—together, out in the open, and exactly as it should be.

Tag List:

@zaddyhotch

@estragos

@todorokishoe24

@looking1016

@khxna

@rousethemouse

@averyhotchner

@reidfile

@bernelflo

@lover-of-books-and-tea

@frickin-bats

@sleepysongbirdsings

[reignpage]

Lil angst idea ........ how do you think jjk men would react if reader defected?? (If possible could we get both pre and post defection suguru 👉👈)

Gojo:

DEVASTATED words cannot even explain the crash out this man would experience (I have a fic on this actually, still writing it tho) I think he'd go off the rails Starts hollow purpling everything That isn't a joke btw, like that's how I see it play out He'd lose hope and faith

Pre-Geto:

He'd go catatonic for a while Thinking about what went wrong and trying to figure out where he stands But he'd end up joining reader

Post-Geto:

Happy Feels reassured about his masterplan Because he definitely had moments where he doubted himself

Choso:

Confused Would try to reach out to understand Would be very conflicted about where he stands It'll drive him wild trying to choose between reader or his brother Very similar crash out like when he realised Yuji was his brother after attacking him

Toji:

I don't think he'd care He's really the type to just go with the flow Always been apolitical and just focused on himself so he'll go wherever you go Won't really take an active part in your plans but if you asked him to do something e.g. kill someone, he'd do it

Nanami:

Woah You know in a zombie apocalypse, where the crazy weirdo has a tied up zombie of their loved one that they talk to and think is genuinely okay, like living in fantasy land That would be Nanami He'd be sent to kill you, but would capture and hold you captive instead Comes in multiple times a day to clean and feed you Talks to you about his day like nothing's wrong In hopes you'll return to him

Sukuna:

He'll pat himself on the back lol You know that scene in Barbie when Ken says SUBLIME Yeah that's our man

Yuji:

Poor boy wouldn't understand He'll be traumatised Forever changed Just like Gojo was It'll force him to reaffirm his belief and faith in jujutsu society but there'll be a darkness that follows him everywhere

Megumi:

Mad at you So so so mad Mad at himself too Feels a strong sense of responsibility and blame Thinks you're stupid and you were manipulated or something But doesn't try to seek you out He's too cowardly

Inumaki:

Suffer in silence Would stop speaking all together Might start chasing you down though Thinks he can use his technique to bring you back Spiritually demolished if he tries and fails

[megumishousewife]

Gojo's Pussy Pink Lips

Description: Gojo gets the day off to be with you, his lovely wife as he reflect on how much you mean to him. As well as annoying you

A/N: I might do a part two if this does well. There's a little bit of smut in here towards the end. Thank youuu!!!

Gojo was surprised when Yaga gave him a day for himself. As the strongest sorcerer, you always gotta be light on your feet and ready for the next call because you will never truly know when you gotta save Japan or the world. Gojo was about to leave Yaga’s office so he could make his rounds to his students that class is canceled when, but his boss obviously had to make a smart remark.

Yaga yelled behind him, “Make sure to do something with that beautiful wife of yours. I can’t believe she married someone like you.” Gojo groaned at Yaga’s comment, but he isn’t far from the truth. Gojo was a lot of things: annoying, hard-headed, egotistic. You were the opposite and he still doesn’t know how he managed to find such an intelligent, gentle, and well-minded woman as yourself. Gojo thought about how thankful he was for you he dazed off while driving.

He met you in Kyoto when the two of you were in high school. Gojo was out in Kyoto, looking for the spot that Yaga told him had suspicious activity, but you and Utahime were already on the scene since it was the Kyoto’s branch area. Utahime scolded him for coming when she was supposed to be helping the rookie (you) with executing curses. Gojo still walked up to the second floor of the building, joining the two of you.

Utahime screamed, “Gojo, what the hell are you even doing here?!” 

Gojo smiled, “Yaga didn’t mention anything about the Kyoto branch taking up this mission so I was sent over. He must have gotten word back last minute but I can stay just in case you weaklings can’t handle it.”

Utahime continued bickering in the dark hallway with Gojo, but they didn’t even notice that you had gone missing until they heard clashing and banging from the door down the hallway. They stood quietly, wondering what you have gotten yourself into. Gojo had already turned limitless when he entered the building just in case things went south. Gojo left Utahime down on the far end of the hallway, taking long strides over to the door. He ignored Utahime yelling at him for leaving her, but just as he was about to open the door, you breezed right past him and went straight to your partner. 

“Utahime, I exercised the curse. It seemed to have been a human at one point and had some connections to this building, but I made sure to cleanse the room and I already did the rest of the building when I was looking around earlier.”

Utahime gasped,”Wow, you’re better than I thought! The Kyoto division is proud to have you on our team. Gojo?”

Gojo still stood on the end of the hallway by the door, still shocked that you even ignored his presence. Coming back to reality, he turned back and went over to introduce himself.

“Sorry I didn’t greet you earlier! Gojo Satoru, Tokyo division and not to mention the strongest.”

He seemed to be flirting with you but you dismissed him with your cold expression and short greeting.

“Name’s Y/N, pleasure to meet you.”

You turned on your heels and walked away to the stairs and Gojo was left in shock again. He only interacted with you once and he loved it. Maybe it was because of your cold and aloof attitude or because you weren’t swooned over by his good looks. Gojo also admired that you were fresh to this new life of yours and you handled business all on your own. He knew he had to know more about you. After months of begging Utahime and Shoko for your number (yall all had a gc with each other), they agreed to set him up on a date with you as long as Gojo didn’t act like an asshole. 

You waited for him at a cafe in a short floral dress and he was taken aback. You dressed differently than your attitude but maybe it’s because you two met on a mission. You smiled warmly at him and handed him a menu when he sat down.

“Hi, Gojo. I heard you liked sweets so I made sure to pick this cafe because they make the best desserts. I’m  ready to order whenever you are,” You said in the nicest voice.

Gojo thought that he had to win you over but you caught him first. The way your voice was as smooth as butter but sweeter than honey made him want to melt in his seat. The two of you ended up ordering the same thing and just laughed at the strange convenience. You guys hit it off pretty well and he didn’t even have to ask you for another date because you texted him when you got back to your dorms about the upcoming fair and you’ve grown closer to him ever since. By the end of your 1st year at Kyoto, you and Gojo started dating. He fell for your kind hearted personality as well as your perspective on the world and having deep connections with others. You made Gojo realize that he doesn’t have to close off his heart from everyone. When he lost Suguru twice, to them splitting and death, you were his shoulder to lean on when he had to cry. You reminded Gojo that he was still human despite what the sorcerer world has to say. He even appreciated your patience for him still holding a spot in the jujutsu world while you sat out until Tokyo or Kyoto needed your services. Gojo also loved how gentle you were with Megumi when he was younger, noticing that the boy and his step sister opened up to you a lot more because they saw Gojo as an annoying uncle. Even as a teenager, Megumi will come to you if something is deeply troubling him (or Gojo pissed him off again).

His phone buzzed as he was taken out of his deep thoughts, seeing the call was from you and he picked up immediately.

“Hey honey, are you break right now? I can come up there and we can eat together,” your soft voice came over the speaker. 

“Actually, I’m on my way home right now. Yaga gave me the day off.”

You smiled, “Ah, that’s great! I was just making that mochi you wanted so bad and we can just stay in the house today. You deserve this.”

“I should be home in 10 minutes, look sexy for me,” he said.

“You’re insufferable.” 

You hung up the phone and began to make the mochi that Gojo has been whining to you about eating for the past few weeks. It’s the least you can do since you only get to see him on the weekends if he didn’t get an important call. You sat your wedding ring in the counter and began kneading the mochi dough while watching a movie you had on the tv. After finishing kneading, you covered your dough and sat down to watch the movie because you were starting to get deep into the plot. You almost didn’t hear the door open, but you did hear your loud mouth husband yell when he saw you.

“MY DEAREST Y/N, IT’S BEEN AGES SINCE WE SAW EACH OTHER!” 

He ran over to kiss you, but you swatted at him.

“You act like dogs when they greet their owners when they come home.”

You gave him a quick peck, but ended up turning into a longer kiss than anticipated. Gojo laid across the couch in your living room, allowing your soft hands to run across his face as he told you about his students, but something felt missing. 

He shot up, “My sweetest little mochi, let me see your hands.”

“You and this weird nickname. What is wrong with my hands?”

You still held up your hands for him and he gasped at the missing spot on your ring finger.

He wailed, “Are you trying to tell me something? WHO IS HE?”

“Gojo. stop being a big baby. I love you very much and I would never do what you’re implying. My ring is in the kitchen, I didn’t want it to get sticky because of the dough I was making for you.”

You kissed him on the cheek and made your way to the kitchen to make the filling he requested as well. Your whiny husband followed you into the kitchen, standing behind you as you assembled the mochi balls. After making your first one, you held it up for him to eat and he took it with his mouth. You rolled your eyes and finished making the rest of them. Once completed, you took a plate of them with you to your bedroom and put the rest in the fridge. You waved your finger for Gojo to follow and of course, he wasn’t too far behind you. You sat on the bed and he laid on his respected side as you fed him so mochi you already bit off from.

“I made dinner reservations at 7, but I have a request for what I want you to wear,” Gojo said with his mouth full.

You smacked his arm, “I thought we were staying in! I could have cooked here. And it’s already 5:30, now I have to get ready fast.”

“Okay, Nara Smith but you were basically drooling over that restaurant you passed after a mission so I wanted to take you. Now, my dress request for tonight is the one that I bought you for our second wedding anniversary. The black one with the slit on the side.”

You ignored his comment and went to the bathroom where your walk-in closet was. On your side, you went towards the back where all your formal dresses were and grabbed the dress Gojo described. In the mirror in the middle of the closet, you held the dress up to your figure and sighed. You felt as though you put on extra weight so Gojo might not see the same woman he saw those years ago, but you would still wear the dress, knowing it would still make your husband happy. You took a shower while Gojo contemplated what suit would match your silk dress. You wrapped your towel around you and saw your husband in a black dress shirt and black slacks. He actually took his blindfold off and replaced it with his signature glasses.

“If you saw me…standing outside your door, licking my lips and then say ‘Ma’am, you look like you need some di-’,

“I see you took that musty ass blindfold off. Put it in the laundry basket,” you counter him.

If nothing can hurt Gojo Satoru, that would be a lie. The thing that can hurt him the most is his wife’s rude comments. He went out the bathroom, defeated as you began to slip your dress on and put on your earrings. Gojo reappeared in the mirror when you were putting on your lip gloss and lotion.

He spoke in a soft, feminine voice, “My husband and I are eating out at dinner today because we both have the day off. I must say, my husband looks striking as usual.”

“Gojo, I am not Nara Smith! If I was, I would poison your food everyday. You do have Lucky’s eyes though.”

“You know, Nobara said the same thing but she said he looks better.”

He stepped behind you in the mirror and caressed your body, feeling the smooth fabric over your curves. The perfume you used was the one he had bought for your birthday and he was tempted to just throw you on the bed and fuck you enough for you to forget about reservations. 

You chuckled, “Are all those years of you making me try new desserts with you catching up on me?”

Gojo leaned down to kiss your neck, “I would still love you no matter what you looked like.”

He flipped you around and lifted you onto the sink. Slotting himself between your legs, the passionate kisses had you ready to gasp for air. Gojo stuck his tongue in your mouth, swirling his with yours, making your head go woozy. You pulled him away and looked at him with a flushed face.

You gasped, “I know where this is going and you’re going to make us late.”

He ignored you and carried you over to the bed anyways. Plopping you in the middle of the bed, he opened your legs and slid off your panties. Gojo looked at his watch on his wrist before bringing his face close enough to where you can feel his breath on your clit. He looked up at you and smiled.

“I have an hour to do what I want, but I already know you’re going to be begging for more. So what’s it gonna be?”

Your answer was tears streaming down your face while Gojo devoured your pussy, ignoring your hand tugging on his white locks. Now you’re sitting across from Gojo at the restaurant, looking at his glossy lips, knowing your juices are still covering them.  

[famoussharkhairdoknight]

NSFW ALPHABET- Pope Heyward

Wearing: +18,smut, English is not my first language

a = aftercare (how they feel after sex):

would definitely be extremely attentive and kind after sex. Constantly ask if it hurts you and check your body. He’s afraid of hurting you because he has a bigger dick than the average.

He is ready to take care of you right after having sex. She cleans you by kissing you tenderly and telling you how good you felt; she always asks if you have cramps of penetration and if you do so she makes you a nice warm compress to put on. He keeps you safe and cuddly, giving you sweet cheeks on your forehead to make you feel safe.

b=favorite body part (favorite part of your body and his):

He loves every part of your body, he loves your smile that can calm him when he is nervous.

He loves your ass very much, is obsessed. He can’t stop slapping and squeezing him... loves to kiss and bite him and the sight of your ass all red from his slaps makes him crazy...

His favorite part of his body is his beautiful muscular physique and he loves when you look at his muscles without shame, he knows well that this thing makes you wet; and above all he is very proud of what he carries between his legs (his friends always tease him saying he has a third leg because it’s bigger)

He loves it when you are impressed every time you see him naked (no matter how many times you have seen him like this) and when he fights to get his dick... he gets crazy.

c = cum (anything to do with sperm):

he sure loves cumming inside you. for him there is nothing better than finishing inside you and seeing his sperm drip out; he would never admit it out loud, but the idea of ​​cumming inside you excited him even more

d = dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, one of their dirty secrets):

It gets even harder when you suck his dick

I= intimacy (what is it like right now? the romantic aspect):

It has two faces, so it will depend a lot on the occasion and his mood. There will be days when it will be harder, but there will also be days when it will be tender and say sweet words and sweet kisses that make your heart beat faster.

k = node (one or more of its nodes):

• Praise Kink: That man loves to receive compliments but also loves to give them; he just loves saying nice things for you and letting you know how good you are doing. He also likes it when you compliment him, when you let him know how good it makes you feel or how great he feels or even how beautiful he is, he drives him crazy.

•Blowjob Kink: he loves it when you suck his cock so well and try to take it all even if he can’t. He loves it when you play with his balls and you stoke around his dick

L-Location (favorite places to do the activity):

At first it seemed shy but actually it’s not: your first time was on the beach.

He loves to fuck you anywhere and he loves to tease you in public

m= motivation (what excites them, keeps them going):

Just seeing you makes him hard

n = no (something he wouldn't do):

certainly nothing that can hurt you; also, he doesn't like sharing you with anyone (no matter who it is) you are his and just thinking about another man touching you would make him very jealous and angry

o-oral (preference in giving or receiving skills, etc.):

Pope is a huge pussy eater and would definitely make you fall apart with those gorgeous lips but he also likes to get a good blowjob, he can't get over the image of your lips wrapped around his cock as you struggle to take it all and sometimes you choke because it's too long and thick for your mouth but you love taking it and he loves it really fuck your mouth.

r =risk (are they willing to experiment? do they take risks? etc.):

The idea of ​​someone catching you excites him especially because he loves to mark his territory on you to make others understand even more that you are his and no one can have you.

s= stamina (how many rounds can they last? how long do they last?):

he could continue all day... he is like a sex machine.

u = unfair (how much he likes to tease):

he is a tease, he would definitely tease you by blushing around him or being extremely wet and needy for him.

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.):

he really loves to be vocal: he will definitely moan and grunt while murmuring dirty things to you and praising how you take his cock

x = x-ray (let's see what happens under those clothes):

his cock is very big and long. And trust me that cock will take away your ability to walk and make you feel very good.

d=desire (how high is their sexual desire?):

he is literally never satisfied. He always wants more from you. He’d be offended if you gave him a blow job while he was studying or when you were on the boat.

He like fuck you with a sensual music

[somuchbetterthanthat]

Sometimes I truly want to sit into the Elias and Jon's dynamics pre-archives/Season 1 because (nottobepettyaboutpeoplewhoassumesjonautomaticallydislikeseliasfor???) I feel like it informs SO MUCH of how they behave later on. They clearly already have some sort of relationship that's based on both respect, freedom and guidance and, I feel, conversations.

"He's not smoking again, is he?" implies that Elias is not only aware Jon used to be a smoker, but has been at least involved in a periphical manner to Jon /stopping/ smoking, and approving of it. (Which, yes, drives me insane. We need so much more jonelias fics where Elias takes,, an active role in helping Jon stop that particular habit)

The fact the very first words that Jon adresses to the tape recorders are for Elias; that he's already discussed with him the problematic statements at all!

Jon acknowledging that Elias is the most knowledgeable man when it comes to the paranormal, which! again! I see so little people talk about but is a clear expression of Jon recognizing and admiring Elias's skills in his particular domain! AND is possibly the reason why he keeps coming back to him later on (and other people). Elias just! knows his stuff. And possibly he used to share a bit more with Jon :').

I don't know, the mere fact that Elias is like "Jon, we got a complain about you" and Jon only snarks "Fine, I'll be more lovely" and it's the end of it is insane to me. I know Elias IS known to be a passive boss, but EVEN SO. The freedom that's given to Jon, all along! Wild and beautiful.

Them flirting over Jon's birthday cake. I can see the scene. Their eyeing each other like they're two seconds away from kissing and everybody else has a moment of "oh, god, please don't, why do you make things uncomfy"

I don't know what this post is actually about, just. Elias and Jon. Getting along. From day one. JON ACTUALLY LIKING AND ADMIRING HIM. Yknow.

[starclancy]

Request: I adored your little Sanji fluffy drabble! The dialogue was so charming, I kept giggling at Sanji's lines.

If you're up to write more of him, can I request a scenario with fem!reader where she's new to the crew and still doesn't know about Sanji's "never ever hurt a woman rule"? I love the idea of Sanji having a bad luck streak when she joins that makes him accidentally hurt the reader (spilling hot tea on her, elbowing her in the ribs cause he was gesticulating too wildly, in general him being uncharacteristically clumsy around her). It would be as fun to read for me as heartbreaking for Sanji to live through lmao Bonus points if the reader starts to think he might just actually dislike her and he's being passive-aggresive about suddenly having her around all the time!

Of course, no pressure no write any of this if it's not your style xoxo

Thank you! this is a great request and i loved writing it!

~ Stirring Trouble ~

PAIRING: Fem!Reader/Sanji

CONTENTS: 💔 - angst / 🩷 - fluff

WORDCOUNT: 1010

Request status: Open

The Thousand Sunny was alive with the hum of activity as its new crew member—you—tried to find her place. You hadn’t been aboard long, but you’d already learned one thing: fitting in with this crew of chaotic misfits was no easy task.

Particularly when it came to him.

Sanji.

Blond hair swept back, suit sharp even in the heat of battle, and a voice that could make compliments sound like poetry. He was charming, flirtatious, and seemingly smooth as butter. Or so you thought—until you joined the crew.

It started innocently enough.

“Tea for the lovely new addition,” Sanji had said during breakfast your first morning. You smiled, reaching for the cup. Then—disaster.

His hand twitched. Maybe it was a sudden sway of the ship or just bad luck, but before you could grab the cup, its contents splashed right onto your hand.

“Ah!” you yelped, jerking back.

Sanji’s face drained of color. “Oh, no—no! My goddess, I’m so sorry! Did I burn you? Let me see!”

You waved him off with an awkward laugh. “It’s fine, really! Just caught me off guard.”

But that wasn’t the end of it.

Later that day, you stood in the galley as Sanji gestured wildly while recounting a story to Usopp. You turned to grab a plate when his elbow jabbed you—hard—in the ribs.

“Ow!”

Sanji froze mid-sentence. His face turned pale again. “Oh no, did I—?!”

You clutched your side, blinking at him in confusion. “It’s okay. Just… be careful, maybe?”

From there, it only got worse. A flurry of small but noticeable accidents followed: bumping into you while carrying a pot of soup, knocking over a chair you were about to sit in, accidentally flinging flour at you during prep. Each time, Sanji’s face twisted in agony as he apologized profusely.

At first, you chalked it up to nerves. Maybe he was just unused to you being there. But after the fourth or fifth incident, you began to wonder if there was something more.

~ A Few Days Later ~

By the time you’d been with the crew for nearly a week, you couldn’t shake the thought that Sanji might dislike you.

He was sweet and doting to everyone else: Zoro got hearty portions of food despite their bickering; Nami had fresh fruit delivered to her lounging spot; Robin got delicate pastries with her afternoon tea.

And you? Well, if clumsy spills and near-constant accidents were “attention,” you weren’t sure you wanted it.

Your growing frustration finally boiled over during dinner prep. You were helping chop vegetables when Sanji accidentally nudged a bowl of chopped onions, sending it flying toward your lap.

“Seriously?!” you snapped, standing up abruptly as the bowl clattered to the floor.

Sanji’s eyes widened. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“Do you have some kind of problem with me?” you interrupted, crossing your arms. “Because if you do, just say it. All this passive-aggressive nonsense is driving me insane.”

The room fell silent. Even Luffy paused mid-bite, a rare sight.

“Passive… aggressive?” Sanji repeated, his voice faint.

“You keep spilling things, elbowing me, tripping me—I get it, you don’t want me here!”

Sanji staggered back, clutching his chest like your words had physically struck him. “What?! I would never—!”

“Then what is it?” you demanded. “Because I’m tired of feeling like some kind of walking target!”

Sanji dropped to his knees so fast you thought he might’ve lost consciousness. “Mon dieu, please forgive me! I’m such a clumsy fool!” He grabbed your hands desperately, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

You blinked, startled. “Wait… what?”

“I swear on my honor as a chef, I would rather throw myself into the Grand Line than harm you! I—” He took a shaky breath. “I’ve been nervous. You’re so… radiant, and perfect, and I—” He looked away, guilt written all over his face. “I think my admiration is making me act like an idiot. I can’t help it!”

The room went deathly quiet for a moment. Then, from across the room:

“Pfft—”

Luffy burst into laughter, followed by Usopp and Chopper. Even Zoro snorted behind his sake cup.

“Sanji, you’re an idiot,” Nami muttered, shaking her head fondly.

You stared at him, heat rushing to your face. “Wait, so… you don’t hate me?”

“Hate you?!” He looked horrified. “I worship the ground you walk on!”

The honesty in his voice made your heart skip a beat.

“…Oh.” You glanced down, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

He knelt there, still holding your hands, his face red but sincere. “Please forgive me, my goddess. I’ll do anything to make it up to you.”

“Anything?” you teased, a small smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Anything,” he vowed solemnly.

“…Okay. You can start by helping me clean up this mess.”

Sanji sprang to his feet, a hand on his heart. “It would be my honor.”

As he scrambled to fetch a broom, you couldn’t help but laugh softly. Maybe fitting in with this crew wouldn’t be so bad after all.

[nenynrawrites]

Def Leppard members as your boyfriend

Joe:

There's so much yet so little I know about him as a boyfriend / partner

But I know he'd be very doting

Like, as soon as you tell about anything that you're hyperfixating on, he will learn everything about it

Loves fangirl Fridays, where the both of you watch a bunch of interviews (old & new) on YouTube, or back then, on VHS, 'cause you always recorded at least one or two

He's fangirling about Ian Hunter obviously (it's so funny to me, but all hail the fangirls and fanboys♡)

One time you were hyperfixating on Sav, and therefor your attention was put a little bit more towards him

Poor Joe got a bit jealous, 'cause it was his best friend, but eh, he wasn't better, and it was harmless, so it's good, right?;3

Listens to you like there was nothing else going on

HUGS, HUGS, HUGS

Hugs from behind, quick side hug, hugs during cuddling...All the hugs!!💕🫂

Kisses range from every possible kind there is

Loves deep and long kisses, the ones where you basically lose your breath

You're kind of his personal heater / cooler when you're cuddling

Clings like a koala to you

Furthermore, very loyal and loves to have you on tour, but not too long, so that you won't get sick of it:)

Loves to call you ,,love" or ,,babe", or any other nickname you like, like childhood nicknames:)

Sav:

He always looks so slightly confused to me, omg-

Like, it took him so long to realize, that you two were a couple

It were two weeks, but it still felt like an eternity, like forever

Definitely teaches you bass (you gotta know where the rhythm comes from;3)

Will introduce you to the big and wide world of fashion

Will get you a custom suit (or dress...Or both):>

Breakfast in bed whenever he can:3

Cuddles EVERY night, even on call (no matter analog or digital)

Loves deep conversations about anything

Rick:

He is such a sweetheart

Won't stop looking at you when you two hang out

Like...He's so enamored, his eyes literally formed to hearts♡

ATTENTIVE!!!

Loves driving out somewhere:]

Asks everybody what he should get you for special occasions, despite knowing you in and out🤭

Loves telling you about the random stuff he saw on walks

I wanna squish his cheeks:3

Phil:

Active boy

Be prepared to always go anywhere with a bike if possible

He probably tries to swim so so far

But! If you wanna have a lazy day a few days in a row, he's not opposed to that

From reading his book, Phil is a deeper thinker than you might imagine, so lots of talking about his philosophy of life and how the world works. He genuinely believes you are soulmates. He cooks you vegan food, and takes you to the gym, whether you want to or not! Very keen on, ahem, bedroom activities, and probably pretty good at it after all that practice lol <- @steveinscarlet

(Somebody help me, I don't know what to add-)

Steve:

Do I have to say it?

I'll just say it again

BIGGEST👏SWEETHEART👏EVER❤️

Like, he's so fun to be around, talk to etc. etc...

Kisses all the time

Late night talks until dawn

Love making? Yes sir:)

The softest hugs known to mankind

Steve is super-shy, so you probably had to make the first move, or be so painfully obvious that even he couldn't fail to notice that you like him. Talks to you in funny voices and probably has a silly pet name for you which makes the other guys make vomiting noises when they hear him use it. He alternates between being really loved up and soppy, and needing reassurance that you really do love him. Buys you classy presents like jewellery and fancy perfume. You steal each other's clothes and eat from each other's plates. He tells you you're beautiful even when you have a spot the size of mount Vesuvius on your chin! <- @steveinscarlet

(Feel free to add, I'll add them:))

Vivian:

The first thing I thought about was Stu

He always had a little companion with him, wherever he would go (if he could take it with him, that is)

Absolutely loves playing your favourite songs on an acoustic, especially fast ones, 'cause they sometimes sound weird (he does it on purpose, 'cause it makes you laugh)

Lets you do his hair:)

Shy boy:>

Loves cuddling up in the middle of whatever you or he were doing

Forehead kisses

(Feel free to add!)

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

I saw some posting playing, what if. and what if sam somehow (being Archibal Witwicky descendant) activities cybertron program like 'aww it's so cute it's mine now and I will take care of it',

So every cybertron peoples will like want sam. When bumblebee first met sam, he almost not let sam get out from his alt mode and when he in bipedal mode, bee will lift him and nuzzle him with his face. Other Autobots feel sam but they can hold it.

And it's also same with decepticons. And it will be hilarious that in mission city, that rather take cube Megatron want sam and optimus not allowing it. It's like "the human is mine prime, I don't care about Allspark". Then optimus say " no, he is mine, you take the Allspark and I take sam"

OP and Megatron will to much busy who have sam rtager take Allspark

This took me a second to make heads or tails of but yes! I read an incomplete fic like this once and I’m so sad it never got finished so!

I reckon Bee, Optimus and Megatron are more susceptible to it because of varying reasons.

Bee, because he’s young still. Doesn’t know much else other than the war so when he’s met with Sam, a strange, squishy little being he’s never seen the likes of before and feels this surge of adoration and fierce protection he’s not really one to go against it.

He’s too curious about the feelings to reject them. Wants to know why this human is making him feel like this when he’s only ever really felt it for his leader and long time friends.

He falls into them quickly when he gets to know Sam though. Likes this bright and funny boy and becomes all too willing to do anything for him, can’t help but hold him close when he’s in bipedal and not wanting to let him out when he’s in alt.

Optimus has been alone for too long. Has been a leader and has held himself back from most things for eons. So meeting Sam? It very nearly throws all those efforts out the window. He has to fight not to take Sam away all the time and grit his denta when he spots Bee being as affectionate as he wants.

It’s normal for those two to be affectionate since they’ve grown close in the short time they’ve known each other. Optimus can’t have that though and it drives him crazy sometimes.

Now Megatron? He is unbelievably upset that he’s feeling this way for one of those squishy little things that had kept him in captivity for years. Is all denial and hate until Mission City.

He gives in to them in part because he admires the young man for his bravery and stubbornness, even if it’s based in stupidity. But it’s also in part because he can see how much the Autobots are trying to protect him and keep him away from Megatron and his underlings.

He can tell Optimus is pissed that Megatron is suddenly showing more interest in taking Sam than the All Spark, and the minuscule amount of satisfaction he gets from that is surprising.

To only Sam’s surprise, the ensuing fight is more about taking him than the All Spark and he’s not too sure just how to feel about it.

[kathlare]

balancing act

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: A glimpse into the whirlwind of Amelie and Lando's intertwined lives, balancing their thriving careers and personal moments amidst the chaos of London. Through playful banter, demanding schedules, and quiet shared moments, their bond is a testament to finding stability and joy in the fast-paced world they navigate.

Wordcount: 2.1 k

Warnings: just fluff

July 2nd, 2024 - London, United Kingdom

The early morning sun filtered through the thin curtains of Amelie’s cozy London apartment, casting golden streaks across the wooden floor. The faint hum of traffic from the streets below mingled with the occasional meow from Benny, who stretched lazily on the windowsill. His brother, Björn, darted around the living room in pursuit of a stray piece of crumpled paper, his antics filling the space with chaotic energy.

Amelie sat cross-legged on the floor, her laptop balanced precariously on her thighs as she typed furiously. A half-empty mug of coffee rested beside her, forgotten in her focused haze. Benny sauntered over and plopped himself onto her lap, purring loudly as he demanded attention.

—Benny, cabrón, not now,— she muttered with a laugh, gently scratching behind his ears.

The door to the bedroom creaked open, and Lando emerged, still rubbing sleep from his eyes. His curly hair was a mess, and he wore a McLaren hoodie that was clearly one size too big for him—her hoodie.

—Morning,— he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. He shuffled toward the kitchen, glancing at the chaos Björn was causing. “Jesus, your cat is feral.”

—That’s not news, babe,— Amelie replied without looking up. —He’s been like this since the day I got him. Maybe he gets it from me.—

Lando snorted as he poured himself a cup of coffee, adding an ungodly amount of sugar. —Doubt it. Benny’s more your spirit animal.—

The early morning banter set the tone for their day. Lando leaned against the counter, sipping his coffee, his gaze softening as he watched Amelie wrestle with Benny’s insistence on being the center of her universe. The apartment was a mix of their lives—her eclectic taste evident in the mismatched throw pillows and vintage posters, and his influence peeking through in the occasional F1 memorabilia scattered around.

—You’ve got that radio thing at ten, right?— Lando asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

—Yeah, and the magazine shoot after. You?—

He groaned, running a hand through his curls. —Interview at Silverstone. Something about “British pride” or whatever. Then another one in the city later. Can’t wait to be asked for the fiftieth time what it feels like to drive a car.—

Amelie chuckled, closing her laptop. —Poor thing, living the dream sounds exhausting.— She placed Benny gently on the couch and stood, stretching. —Well, at least we’ve got lunch to look forward to.—

—You mean we’re actually sticking to the plan today? Miracles do happen.—

She rolled her eyes, swatting at him playfully as she headed to the bathroom. —Go shower. You smell like yesterday.—

By nine, the apartment was a flurry of activity. Amelie’s glam team had taken over the living room, their chatter mingling with the buzz of curling irons and the faint strains of her album playing in the background. She sat in front of a mirror, her makeup artist deftly applying a bold eyeliner as her hairstylist curled strands of her dark hair into soft waves.

Björn leaped onto the counter, knocking over a bottle of setting spray.

—Björn, hijo de tu madre!— Amelie exclaimed, reaching out to grab him before he could cause more chaos.

Lando, freshly showered and dressed in his signature black jeans and a Mclaren tee, watched the scene unfold from the doorway, amused. —Your cats are more dramatic than you are.—

—Takes one to know one, Norris.—

—Touché.—

He wandered over, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of her head. —You look nice.—

—They’re not done yet.—

—Still.—

Her stylist smirked. —He’s a keeper, Mila.—

Amelie met Lando’s gaze in the mirror, her lips quirking into a soft smile. —Yeah, he’s alright.—

By noon, their schedules had dragged them in opposite directions. Lando was seated in a glossy studio in Silverstone, fielding a barrage of questions about his hopes for the weekend, the car’s performance, and his thoughts on the iconic British Grand Prix.

—It’s home turf, so yeah, there’s always pressure. But honestly, I’m just trying to enjoy it and give the fans a good show.—

The interviewer leaned forward, grinning. —And is it true you’ve been spotted around London with a certain Oscar-winning actress?—

Lando’s cheeks flushed, a boyish grin creeping onto his face. —Uh, yeah. Amelie and I are dating. But you already knew that.—

—Lucky guy.—

—Tell me about it,— Lando replied, a spark of pride in his voice.

Meanwhile, Amelie was stationed in a chic Soho café for a photoshoot, balancing a steaming cappuccino in one hand and answering questions in between poses.

—Your album Short n Sweet drops next month. What inspired the title?—

She tilted her head thoughtfully. —It’s kind of an inside joke. I’m not exactly known for being concise, but this album is. It’s a snapshot of where I am right now, you know?—

The photographer motioned for her to shift, and she adjusted her position, her heels clicking against the tiled floor.

—And where’s that?—

She smiled, thinking of Lando. —Happy.—

At 1:30, the two of them met up at a quaint bistro tucked away in a quiet London alley. Lando had beaten her there and was scrolling through his phone when she arrived, her presence announced by the clink of the bell above the door.

—Hey,— he greeted, standing to pull her into a quick hug.

—Hey yourself. Survive the morning?—

—Barely. You?—

—Björn didn’t burn down the apartment, so I’m calling it a win.—

They settled into their seats, the hum of conversation around them providing a comforting backdrop. Amelie reached for the menu, her fingers brushing against Lando’s in the process.

—What?— she asked, catching his amused look.

—Nothing. Just happy you’re here.—

Her heart skipped a beat, but she played it cool, flipping open the menu. —You’re such a sap.—

They spent the next hour laughing over shared appetizers, swapping stories about their hectic mornings, and stealing bites off each other’s plates. Despite the whirlwind of their lives, these moments felt sacred—a reminder of why they worked so well together.

As the waiter cleared their plates and brought the check, Lando leaned back in his chair, his arms crossed lazily over his chest. His eyes glinted with a teasing mischief that Amelie had come to recognize all too well.

—So, did they ask you about me today?— he asked, a grin playing on his lips.

She rolled her eyes dramatically, reaching for her purse. —Of course they did. Apparently, being in a relationship is my entire personality now. Forget the album, forget the acting, it’s all about Lando’s girlfriend.—

—Sounds like great PR to me,— Lando quipped, leaning forward to grab the bill before she could.

—You’re not paying, cabrón,— Amelie shot back, tugging at his hand.

—Too late,— he teased, holding the receipt just out of her reach. —I already made up my mind.—

—Lando!— she groaned, but the playful frustration in her voice only made him grin wider.

—Relax, you can pay next time.—

—There won’t be a next time if you keep this up.—

He laughed, leaning in to kiss her cheek. —You love me too much to mean that.—

She rolled her eyes again but couldn’t hide the soft smile tugging at her lips. He’s infuriating, she thought, but he’s also kind of right.

The afternoon saw them go their separate ways once more. Amelie returned to her apartment for her final interview of the day—a candid sit-down with a popular podcast host. Her team had transformed the living room into a cozy set, fairy lights twinkling against a backdrop of bookshelves and her own album cover prominently displayed.

—Welcome to the show, Amelie!— the host began, their voice warm and inviting.

—Thanks for having me,— she replied, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

The conversation flowed easily, touching on her creative process, her inspirations, and how she balanced her career with her personal life.

—You’ve been incredibly busy lately, movies, music, and now you’re performing at the Summertime Ball. How do you stay grounded?—

Amelie paused, her thoughts drifting to the curly-haired boy who’d teased her over lunch. —Honestly? It’s the people I surround myself with. My family, my friends, and, um, my boyfriend. They remind me of what really matters.—

—Lando Norris, right?—

She nodded, her cheeks tinged pink. —Yeah. He’s been great. Super supportive. Even when I’m all over the place, he’s just…there.—

Meanwhile, Lando was back at Silverstone, fielding another round of questions under the hot lights of a press conference.

—So, Lando, you’ve got the British Grand Prix this weekend and your girlfriend’s album dropping next month. Will you be celebrating both?—

He smirked, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief. —Of course. I’m her biggest fan, so if she wins a Grammy someday, I’ll be taking all the credit.—

The room erupted in laughter, but Lando’s grin softened as he added, —Honestly, though, I’m proud of her. She works so hard, and she’s amazing at what she does. I’m just lucky to be along for the ride.—

By the time evening rolled around, Amelie was packing for her trip to Paris. Her suitcase lay open on the bed, a mix of chic outfits and comfortable staples spilling out. Benny lounged on top of her folded clothes, his soft fur a stark contrast to Björn’s wild leaps across the room.

By the time evening rolled around, Amelie was packing for her trip to Paris. Her suitcase lay open on the bed, a mix of chic outfits and comfortable staples spilling out. Benny lounged on top of her folded clothes, his soft fur a stark contrast to Björn’s wild leaps across the room.

Lando appeared in the doorway, holding two steaming mugs of tea. —Need a hand?—

—If you can convince Benny to move, sure,— she said, gesturing at the cat.

He set the mugs on the nightstand and walked over, scooping up Benny with surprising ease. —Come on, mate. You’re in the way.—

Benny purred contentedly as Lando scratched behind his ears, and Amelie couldn’t help but smile.

—You’ve got a way with him. Björn, on the other hand…—

—Björn’s just misunderstood,— Lando joked, dodging as the mischievous cat pounced toward him.

They spent the next hour together, folding clothes, sharing stories about their day, and stealing kisses in between. The cozy atmosphere of the apartment felt like a refuge from the whirlwind of their schedules.

As Amelie zipped up her suitcase, she turned to Lando, her expression soft. —You know I’m going to miss you, right?—

He pulled her into a hug, his chin resting on the top of her head. —I’ll miss you too. But it’s only a week. Then I get to see you light up Wembley.—

She smiled against his chest, letting his warmth settle over her. —You’re coming, right?—

—Wouldn’t miss it for the world.—

They stayed like that for a while, the sounds of the city fading into the background. For all their chaos, these moments of stillness reminded them why they worked. They were each other’s calm in the storm—a love as steady as it was electric.

[whimsicalmeerkat]

WIP Wednesday

@dear-massacre tagged me last week and when I asked what she wanted a snippet from she picked demon Stiles. Here’s the beginning of the next chapter of devil don’t take a break!

~

John grips the wheel, hands at ten and two, and tries not to panic or overreact or, god forbid, let on to Stiles just how out of his depth he feels. And not just feels. Is. John is a human man who fell in love with a soul eater. He still finds the world of the supernatural daunting and frequently frightening. Despite the apparent quiet in the last several years, having a trouble magnet for a son who is also a soul eater means John has been expecting some sort of drama.

He didn't expect Stiles to bond someone at 16, though. He's not ready for that by any stretch of the imagination. It's clearly happened, though. He is deeply curious about that story, but first things first. They have to find Derek and get him help before whoever plugged that hole in him comes back around.

Stiles is noticeably quiet on the drive to a part of town John rarely sees at night. It’s industrial, but it’s new enough it hasn’t picked up a reputation of being a good spot for crime. Other than teens getting bored and tagging up every wall in sight, that is. He sends a look in Stiles’ direction. He’s always suspected his son might have a bent in that direction if something pushed him just right.

When John sees Stiles is anxiously chewing on his hoodie string and jiggling his leg so fast it looks like it hurts, he wishes some light vandalism was the worst thing he had to face with Stiles.

“We’re almost there,” John tells Stiles, trying to project a calm he doesn’t feel.

Stiles just nods and worries the string with his teeth.

“It had to have been the Argents, but the MO is wrong,” Stiles says suddenly.

“What do you mean?” John asks, curious how much Stiles knows about the famous hunting family.

“Chris favors crossbows,” Stiles says. “That’s what he shot Scott with and Allison is some sort of champion archer. Why would he suddenly use a sniper rifle?

“The Argents are arms dealers, albeit legal ones,” John tells Stiles, hopping he doesn’t end up regretting it. “Chris is probably trained in all kinds of weapons. You can’t assume you know what he’ll use in a given scenario.”

John hates that he sounds like he’s preparing his kid for fights, but not as much as he hates how necessary it seems right now. Not in an active sense. He doesn’t hold with vigilantism, his son’s long term obsession with Batman notwithstanding. He hates knowing that at some point, his son will likely be in a situation that even his clever mouth can’t talk him out of. Honestly, the odds are decent he’ll have talked himself into the situation in the first place.

“Isn’t that the turn?” Stiles asks.

John swears and brakes the cruiser before pulling to the side of the street. He hasn’t overshot by much.

“Just keeping you on your toes,” he tells Stiles, secretly relieved Stiles was paying that much attention to his surroundings.

They get out of the car and Stiles immediately heads down a small alley between buildings. John follows, knowing the bond will lead Stiles straight to Derek. Claudia wasn’t hurt very badly or often, but John remembers how the general sense of where she was became something more like a homing beacon in those times. He takes a look around quickly, then follows Stiles.

“Over here,” Stiles calls softly as John enters the alley. “He’s passed out cold.”

John can’t help but groan. “We’re gonna have to carry him out.”

~

Low pressure tags: @lucky-bishop @eevylynn @thotpuppy @mswhich and anyone else who wants to play!

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

[blujayonthewing]

pitched battle inside my brain between the part of me that's desperately shaking myself by the shoulders going "YOU HAVE GOT TO ACTUALLY LIVE THE KIND OF LIFE YOU IMAGINE INSTEAD OF JUST SITTING AROUND IMAGINING IT UNTIL YOU DIE!!" and the part of me that's clutching my face going "is this allowed? is this allowed?? is this allowed???"

[angeldcgs]

there were many factors at play when creating the taboo nature of lana and mr. landry's potential coupling— for one, there was the age difference. she'd thought it rude to ask specifically, but from what context clues she could pick up on, she'd guess he and his wife were around twice her age, but no matter the number, it was clear she and sully were in vastly different places in life with vastly different maturity levels. then, of course, there was the matter of him being her employer, and her landlord, and he was already married on top of that, which all combined gave him a great deal of power over her, and yet she couldn't help but feel like she was the one pulling the strings as she gazed at him from the passenger seat. as if she wasn't already worked up enough, there was just something about a man driving that really got her going, and she found herself becoming transfixed not by his face, or his broad chest just barely concealed by a flimsy t shirt, but by his hairy knuckles gripping the wheel. "i'm glad you came," she purred, lips slowly curling up into a lazy grin. no matter how hard she studied him, lana could never tell how exactly he felt about her. when she'd first taken the job, she figured she'd be dodging his advances left and right to try and form some basis of professionalism, but he'd been nothing but polite and respectful. at times he'd treat her with the detachment common for a boss, though as time went on and she became further integrated into the family, their dynamic shifted, lines blurring as he came to look out for her like one would a daughter. now that the incident at the party occurred— now that he knew what she used to do for a living— lana didn't know how exactly he saw her anymore, if it had planted some seed of sexual curiosity within his mind, or only made him that much more protective of her in a paternal sense. from what she picked up on, her attraction was far from one sided; it was merely a manner of helping him accept that he could act on his desires without jeopardizing his whole life. who knows? maybe she'd stumbled into that interview for a reason. perhaps some benevolent god had dropped her right onto his lap to help reinvigorate his lust for life, and he was just too boneheaded to accept it. "yeah?" her eyes were practically sparkling with intrigue, ink black lashes batting as she reached out to toy with the front of his shirt. "tell me about it..." her imagination was active, but she wanted something more concrete— had he merely engaged in the typical amount of debauchery for a man coming of age, or had he been particularly rowdy before marriage and fatherhood straightened him out? she'd liked to have seen him back then in his glory days, if for nothing else than to know for sure whether a mustache like that came pre or post twins. "i always do." as long as alcohol was involved, lana always had a good time, but going out now was almost bitter sweet when she remembered what she had back at home. "i should take you with me next time! maybe that'll stop random guys from grinding on me every five minutes." it was delivered in jest, though when spoken in her erotically inebriated tone of voice and when coupled with her sultry gaze which had drifted down to eye the crotch of his pajama pants, it may as well have been an invitation into her bed. "when's the last time you and mrs. landry went out, hm? you're always so busy... work, work, work..." the hand on his chest began traveling, working its way down to the waistband of his pants. "you work too hard taking care of everybody, mr. landry... who takes care of you?"

with lana safely tucked in the car, sully could finally let go of the breath he'd been holding and stop worrying quite as hard. he couldn't help but be a little frustrated at how long she had left him panicking about her well-being but it was a feeling that had been so easily overcome upon seeing her stumble out of the club, shaky on her heels as he'd expected her to be. focusing on getting her into his car in one piece had stopped him from getting too caught up in checking out the state she was in but once she was seated and leaning towards him, he couldn't help but notice the way her dress was failing to appropriately contain her breasts, the material only just managing to keep her from spilling out and revealing all to him. "don't worry about that. i'm glad you called." after a forced smile, he started the car and pulled away from the curb, away from the screeching drunks who had come to occupy the streets and back onto the road for what he imagined would be a mostly quiet journey home. she could've gotten an uber like she'd teased him about earlier but she hadn't, maybe she'd tried and failed but he had come through as the reliable option and that felt good. her playful accusation had him lightening up further, he laughed and shook his head in faux disagreement. he had plenty of stories he could tell if he wished to, many of which didn't paint him as the greatest person but they were all in the past, that version of him felt so distant from the man he had become and reminiscing was a dangerous game. it could lead to wishing to be back there, yearning for a youth that could never be replicated. lana still had plenty of time, to say he was envious wasn't entirely correct but there was a part of him that did wish for that freedom again. he loved his family and the life they had all built together but it had been so long since he'd given into any kind of impulses, let himself be driven by what he wanted instead of what was expected. "i had my moments." he glanced over to lana and made a conscious effort not to look anywhere but her face, a task that wasn't difficult with how sweetly she was staring at him. those huge brown eyes of hers made her look like one of the dolls his daughters cherished, so totally innocent even if he had the sneaking suspicion she wasn't so entirely wholesome. "did you have fun tonight?" after excelling at her job for so many weeks, a night off was well earned. it must've been a relief to spend a couple hours out acting her age, whatever that entailed.

[divorcedfiddleford]

i already know what the story behind the picture is but please explain it anyway we need to educate the masses

oh my god thank you for enabling me ive been thinking about this all day. regarding this post i made yesterday and this classic image (which i actually just found out was posted seven years ago today!)

basically as can be read in the post at BigFest in 2016 somebody had what i believe was a fan-made prop based on the laptop from season 2 of gravity falls. alex hirsch attended this convention and decided to type in the password to the laptop. we never learned the password in the show so lots of people were excited to find out!

a HUGE thing to note here is that journal 3 was still months away from releasing and in fact while a couple pages had been released as promotional material it was still being worked on until, like... gosh i wanna say may is when they finally started printing it? don't quote me on that though my point is that this was all taking place pre-journal 3 and, therefore, many fans were still operating under the (sensible) impression that the laptop which

had been designed by fiddleford

had been built by fiddleford

had fiddleford's name on it

said "PROPERTY OF F" on it (at this point it had been established through promo images that "F" referred to fiddleford)

was assumed to be fiddleford's by, like, four different main characters

was given to and used by fiddleford following s2e7

fiddleford presumably knew the password to

would also belong to fiddleford. right? i mean logically. logically, guys.

so when alex hirsch revealed that the password had been "STANFORD" all along, people thought that was a little bit... well

of course, a couple months later journal 3 would be published and it would say that the laptop had actually been STANFORD'S, not fiddleford's, and that he had made the password his own name. so technically i lied in my earlier post, there IS a heterosexual explanation for this, but imo it's still bullshit. like sorry i don't believe for a fucking second that stanford "i need to encode all of my messages in multiple ciphers and write in invisible ink" pines would ever make a password as simple as his own name. he wouldve picked like something with six different layers of alternate meanings and also put it through atbash at the VERY least. also as i listed above there is a LOT of evidence which would support the laptop belonging to fiddleford, as opposed to ford, which has this random retcon (and like... some of the computer keys are different colors? i guess?? idk that bit was stupid) as its only supporting evidence.

my theory is that, while writing the show, alex and the other writers had intended for the laptop to belong to fiddleford, but for whatever reason, when they were writing the book, they decided to make it ford's instead. i want to make clear that i DON'T think this swap was motivated by homophobia, or as a reaction to seeing people interpret the password in a gay way. by the time that this photo was taken several promotional journal pages had been released, so it's safe to say that even if they were still adding the finishing touches to the book, it was pretty much in its final stage and in fact might have already started printing (i think the first photos we see of the book itself were posted like a week or two after bigfest). so to assume that there's a correlation there is both unfounded and extremely unlikely.

now, the stargazing scene reprint, on the other hand