#this has probably been done before im sure lol

[dandyshucks]

[thinks about hugging F/O] [+5HP]

[arielluva]

actually so funny (it isn't) that everytime i struggle to do something and i tell my parents about it they just respond with "you just have to do it." like. guys. if i could "just do it" i would NOT be complaining about not being able to do it!!

[aarghstop]

sorry there is SO MUCH text in the tags .. i definitely shouldve just put this in a regular post but . i didnt. its too late.. ive committed to this.

the whole "doflamingo has always been evil" thing doesn't sit right with me. idk. maybe it's because i think the environment during childhood is what shapes someone's personality, especially if there's a traumatic experience. and call me crazy, but perhaps being raised in a world full of supremacists and classists with an extreme god complex can affect your views on the world and yourself at a very early age. and perhaps i'm being a bit insane here, but, like, idk. maybe being fucking tied up and tortured and seeing everything you love burnt down to ashes while a whole town tells you you're evil for your mere existence could make you develop a hatred towards them. and, wow! maybe i'm saying something wild, but if you're taking care of your little brother and an older man tells you you're the chosen one to create a fucking mafia and he boosts your god complex to an insane, unhealthy, and almost grooming-like extent, of fucking course you're gonna end up like doflamingo.

but idk, call me crazy.

[m0llygunn]

shy girl (eddie munson x fem!reader)

summary: typically shy, you aren't good at telling eddie what you want. finally brave enough to ask, eddie happily rewards you

cw: 18+!, mature language, petnames, smut, pinv sex (unprotected), creampie, anal fingering, shy/nervous first time anal reader idk, lots of praising, porn with very little plot an: wrote this a while ago and was suppose to be a 3 part butt stuff saga lol but i probably won't do the other 2 parts if im being honest. makes sense alone, theres just clearly a segue for the other parts at the end. kind of edited but not really. wc: 3.6k+

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Your stomach clenches, whole body quivering with nerves.

“Y’okay?” he asks from behind you, finger just barely brushing over the focus of tonight.

“M’okay,” you answer tentatively.

“You don’t sound okay?”

“I want to do this,” you say with an exhale, forcing your muscles to relax. You drop the side of your head further into the plushness of the pillow, back arching deeper as you breathe away the low vibrations of your nervousness. 

His hands rise up your lower back, palms flat to your skin. “You don’t have to.” He glides both thumbs up the sides of your spine before rounding them outwards, massaging an achy spot you didn’t know existed. You relax into it, taking another breath. 

“I want to, Eddie. Wanna try it.”

His thumbs return to the base of your spine before gliding upwards, doing it all again. You could fall asleep if he kept doing this— but you don’t. You push yourself up, craning your neck to see him perched behind you on his knees. His eyes flicker up from the movements of his hands on your lower back to meet your gaze.

“Eddie, I’m serious. I want to try it,” you convince, eyeing him. His naked chest glistens in a faint sheen of sweat under the warm light of the bedroom, courtesy of the ample foreplay that brought you both here. His disheveled hair is further proof of how the night has gone. He raises his brows, showing off the sincerity in his widened eyes, hands paused on your skin. 

“If it’s just for me, I’m fine with how we usually have sex— I love your pussy,” he smiles crookedly.

Worked up, bare, his cock already hard, and so close to your soaked entrance— it would be easy to give in and let him fuck you stupid, but you prepared for this, you thought endlessly about this, you want this. 

“I’ve never done anal before though, wanna try it at least once.”

His hands resume their movements, this time gliding down and over the roundness of your ass. His thumb brushes over where you want him.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Yes, Eddie. Please.”

“It’s gonna take a while if you don’t want it to hurt. We coulda been warming you up if you told me earlier.”

Your back arches deeper as you deflate, pressing your face forward into the pillow. You knew Eddie had more experience than you, you knew he’s done this before with other people, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. It was only in the heat of the moment when you managed to let the words slip from the tip of your tongue despite planning to say them at the beginning of the evening. At least this time you got the message out, last time you got ready for this, you chickened out on telling him what you wanted and went without.

Eddie brushes his thumb over your hole again before traveling down to your cunt, dipping into your wetness. Shallowly, he circles his thumb in your entrance.

“Shoula told me earlier, pretty girl,” Eddie says and your stomach drops with disappointment. You know you should have, you told him too late and now you have to wait again. 

His thumb pulls out from your cunt, trailing upwards. 

“Shoulda told me earlier, cause now I’m all worked up and need you— but you’re shy, aren’t you?” His voice drops to a low rasp that makes your disappointment vanish, heated excitement taking its place. “My shy girl, too nervous to tell me she wants me to fuck her in the ass.”

The warmth of your slick on his thumb circles around your puckered hole lightly, teasingly. 

“Are you my shy girl?” he asks.

You nod your head, the sound of ruffling cotton on your pillowcase acting as your response. You know Eddie doesn’t appreciate your lack of a real answer when his thumb stops it’s movement.

“Yes, I’m your shy girl,” you say quickly, wanting him to keep going.

“Good girl. My good, shy girl,” he hums. His thumb resumes circles before gliding right over your hole, adding increasing pressure that has your stomach squeezing. You hum happily, enjoying it so far but it doesn’t last for long when he removes both hands from you.

“Touch yourself, baby. Want to see your fingers in your pussy while I get your ass ready for my cock,” he says and your stomach flips.

“Touch myself?” you ask.

“Too shy to touch yourself f’me?” he asks, amusement laced in his voice. You hum, turning your head briefly into the pillow to hide, before taking a breath. 

“No,” you reply, the bashfulness of your voice telling both of you otherwise. You bravely snake a hand under your body, holding your hand flat over your mound. 

“That’s a good girl, let’s see you sink your little fingers into that pretty cunt.”

Hot and wet, your fingers glide in easily, an audible squelch of wetness sounding out that makes your skin heat from your neck all the way up to your cheeks. Eddie groans from behind you and it gives you the confidence to pull your fingers out, starting a slow pump. 

“Thatta girl, keep doing that,” he praises and you hear the mattress shuffle behind you. 

You turn your face to see Eddie but when you catch his gaze, he pointedly looks towards your cunt, reminding you with a raised brow to keep going. He shuffles off the bed, moving to the bedside table. Seconds later, with a clear bottle in hand, he crawls back into the bed, moving to sit behind you again. 

With the pop of a lid opening, your fingers pause as your mind’s focus shifts to what Eddie’s doing.

“Keep going baby,” he's quick to prompt. “Just gonna warm up some of this lube in my hands and we’ll get you started, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply meekly, making slow wiggles of your fingers inside of yourself, movements far too shallow and tame to get yourself off. 

“Gotta relax baby, focus on playing with yourself,” he guides as you hear the slickness of the lube being rubbed between his hands. He finally makes contact between your cheeks, rubbing the warmed up liquid over you. 

You try to continue plunging your fingers in and out of yourself but your attention wanes as the pads of his fingers rub circles over your hole. 

You resist the nervousness that threatens to creep in. It’s not that you don’t trust Eddie. You trust him more than yourself, it’s just new and you’re not sure what to make of it yet.

“Can you tell me what you’re doing?” you ask shyly. 

A gentle palm meets your lower back again, warmth spreading over your skin as he rubs soothingly. An appreciated affection that calms your nervousness. 

“’Course, baby,” he answers. “Just getting you ready and lubed up. The slicker you are, and the more relaxed you are, the easier it’ll be.”

You hum an agreement, trying your hardest to focus on fingering yourself. You start building a steady rhythm when Eddie’s hand pauses.

“Gonna start small, okay? Just gonna use my little finger at first— see how you like it.”

��Mhm, okay,” you agree. With his one hand still rubbing a soothing massage on your lower back, you feel the prod at your hole, slow and gentle.  

“Just, relax,” he hums quietly, “mhm, just like that, baby.” His little finger pushes into the tightness, and your own fingers pause completely as you take a moment to decipher the feeling. 

His hand slides from your lower back, down to rest on your hip. His finger pushes in the slightest bit further. When you feel the knuckle of his finger your whole body moves forward, away from the intrusion instinctively. 

“Hurts?” he asks, letting you pull away, leaving just the tip of his finger inside you. 

You shake your head. It’s not pain, it’s not something you’ve really felt before. “Just feels weird,” you answer, relaxing back towards him. 

“Wanna stop?”

“No,” you reply with another shake of your head. “Keep going, please,” you say when he makes no further moves. 

He pushes his little finger into you again, knuckle pushing past the band of tightness but this time you don’t pull away, you breath through the odd feeling. 

“How’s that?” he asks, stilling his finger inside you. 

“Feels… fine? Not bad, just… tight.”

“Yeah, s’really tight,” he breathes. You feel his finger wiggle the slightest bit and it makes your stomach clench from the strange sensation. 

“Wanna play with your clit for me? It’ll make it feel better.”

“What are you gonna do now?” you ask, wanting him to talk you through it some more. 

“Get you used to this, just go slow, in and out for now,” 

Gliding your fingers out from your cunt, wetness gathered between your fingers, you move to make circles on your clit, letting out a breath at the distracting pleasure.

Eddie starts slow movements of his finger, pulling it out before pushing it back in. With your fingers working your clit and the added pressure, you hum a quiet moan. 

“Feel good, baby? Like having my finger in your ass?”

“Like it, feels good so far,” you answer, picking up the speed on your clit. 

You get so lost in the buzzing throughout your body that Eddie’s words go in one ear and out the other as he guides you through the next step. You almost don’t notice him switching from his little finger to his middle, only when he gets to the knuckle again do you notice the extra stretch. Surprised, despite him telling you what he was doing, a gasp pulls from your lungs and your circles on your clit stutter. 

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, just surprised me.” 

“Tell me if it starts to hurt, okay?”

You agree and Eddie starts a slow thrust in and out. The feeling is… interesting. It’s like pressure and quite different from when he’s in your pussy. 

When his knuckle slips in and out with ease, you feel yourself get excited.

“Ready for more,” you chirp quietly. 

“Yeah? Ready for two of my fingers?”

“Mhm, ready for ‘em, Eddie.” Your belly pools with heat just at the idea of two of his fingers inside of you. Your pace on your clit picks up again, having slowed down so you didn’t cum just yet.

He does it methodically, pulling his finger out until just the very tip is left inside of you. Then he adds his second, pushing inside of you so slowly that you nearly feel like pushing back into him— until he gets to the hilt of his knuckles again. 

Biting your lip, the stretch is close to being painful and you can’t help the way you tense. Eddie stills.

“My ambitious girl, thought she could take more already. S’hurting isn’t it?”

“No,” you lie unconvincingly. 

“No?”

“Just feels like a stretch,” you say, voice coming out squeaky. 

“Yeah? Wanna keep going?” 

You pause before nodding your head. “Wanna keep going,” you answer, continuing slow circles on your clit. 

His fingers prod deeper, knuckles stretching you out and adding pressure. When he finally has both fingers fully inside you, you let out a breath you had held in that clearly you nor Eddie realized you had held in.

“Baby, you gotta keep breathing. If it’s too much, tell me,” he admonishes gently, rubbing his opposite hand along your hip.

“It’s not too much… it’s just different. I want it so bad, Eddie.”

“I’m so fucking hard, you’re not making this easy for me,” he laughs softly.

“I do. I've been thinking about it for a long time. Really want it just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“Sweet, shy girl, you can tell me anything. You know I’d never say no to you,” he says as he starts moving his fingers again. You make a conscious effort to breathe, taking deep inhales and extended exhales. 

When he eventually gets you used to his two fingers, the way he twists his wrist with each plunge has you humming in the intimate pleasure. More than anything, the thrill of it all is what has you enjoying this the most. It feels good so far but you need more.

“Eddie?”

“Yeah, pretty girl?”

“Can you…” you trail off, shyness creeping in.

“Can I?” he prompts, slowing his fingers.

“Can you… can you do that but…” you trail off again.

“Anything you want baby, just gotta ask,” he says softly, hand rubbing along your hip still, encouraging you to say what you want to say.

“I want you to do that and fuck me too,” you say in a quick breath.

“Yeah?”

“Please.”

Eddie laughs softly, his gentle massaging hand turns into a quick squeeze. “I can do that, want me to stuff both your hole, fill you right up?” he asks salaciously.

You pussy clenches at the thought and you need it more than anything.

“Please, Eddie.”

He sinks his fingers deep into your ass, making you moan, lighting every nerve up in your body. He shuffles behind you, free hand guiding your thighs wider to accommodate himself.

“Gonna make you feel so full, you want that don’t you? You been thinking about it?”

“Mmhmm,” you hum. “Been thinking about it for so long, Eddie.”

“Gotta tell me these things, baby. Want to know every dirty thought of yours,” he grumbles in a deep baritone. His fingers twist with the movements of his wrist and you feel the prod of his cock as he drags it through your folds, catching your clit before lining himself up. 

“Please,” you whisper, pushing back into him. He lets out a low chuckle and he spares you your additional pleas that sit on your tongue as he pushes inside of you. 

The stretch of the head of his cock makes you whine and with the addition of his fingers in your ass it’s a fuller pleasure, one that gets more intense as he pushes deeper inside of you. 

“Eddie,” you whimper out, dropping your head to the pillow. 

“I know baby, s’a lot isn’t it?”

“Feels good Eddie,” you whine, arching your back deeper.

“Yeah? You like being filled up?”

“Love it, Eddie.” 

He draws his hips back and your stomach flips just at the thought of the pleasure to come. When he pushes back in, his fingers wiggle inside of you and your breath catches. He does it again and you swear your head goes fuzzy. 

He starts slow, his hips thrusting slow and lazily, barely grazing the backs of your thighs with each stroke. His fingers are what makes your breath stutter. He twists them in and out with the swirl of his wrist, and each time he sinks his cock inside of you, it adds unique pressure that has you reeling. Most of all, you like that it’s him doing it— you feel a profound intimacy having him like this that makes your chest squeeze alongside the burn in your lungs from having every breath stolen. 

“Want to add another finger,” he says and you let out a drawn out whimper. He coos, rubbing his free hand along the round expanse of your cheek and up to your waist. “I know you can take it, you’re doing so good f’me.”

“I can take it,” you nod into your pillow. 

He pulls back from you, enough to have just the tip of his cock inside, and you have to bite your lip to stop yourself from pushing back into him. That feeling vanishes when you hear the click of the bottle lid.

“Just gonna add more lube, okay? Make sure you’re nice and slick for me,” he says in a soothing cadence.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say. He huffs a quiet laugh and you hear the wet sound of the lube in his hand. 

“Don’t gotta thank me, pretty girl. I’m having fun back here,” he chuckles and your heart skips a beat at the thought of him enjoying this. It’s a warm feeling— the shared pleasure, it’s hard to explain but just feels good being together like this. 

Pulling his fingers almost all the way out, you feel his other fingers glide around your entrance. When he shifts, you take a deep breath. 

“Good girl,” he praises. 

His free hand finds your lower back again and the stretch of a third finger starts. It’s a lot this time. A lot more than all the other stretches. 

“Just breathe, there you go. Doing so good,” he soothes in a low voice. Feeling a heightened sensitivity, you don’t miss the way his cock twitches and throbs inside of you. While the stretch tinges painful, you focus your attention towards that, feeling the way his excitement kicks up in his cock. 

The stretch doesn’t give way to pleasure, but the pleasure comes from somewhere else. Somewhere deep inside where you feel connected to Eddie. You’re his like this, physically but emotionally as well. All his. It makes you throb, and you reach between your legs chasing that feeling. 

“Fuck, there you go,” Eddie says, voice turning gravelly. His cock kicks up again and he lets himself push forward, sinking halfways inside of you. 

His fingers, just barely past the knuckle, shift inside of your tight hole and it has you lighting up in a searing pleasure— pain speckled but so rewarding when Eddie lets out a deep grunted moan. 

“Don’t think I’ll last, baby,” he says in a strangled breath. 

“Just fuck me, please. Need it so bad Eddie. Need you.”

He huffs a deep exhale. His hand on your lower back pushes you down into a deep arch and you meld to the way he needs you. His fingers shift again and it’s like fire in your veins. You rub quick circles against your clit and with a deep breath that tickles across your spine as Eddie lets it out, he thrusts. 

Guttural and from deep inside of you, you let out a pleasure ridden moaned cry. 

He pulls back and rolls his hips to yours. 

You’ve never felt so full in your life and you love it. It’s thrilling, it’s connecting, it’s masochistically beautiful, and it pools in your lower belly, making your stomach clench in rigid convulses. 

“Fuck, feels so fucking good,” Eddie groans. His breath is heavy and only adds to your pleasure. “You like both your holes being filled don’t you, can feel you squeezing me so tight,” he says in a deep grunted babble.

Your moans surpass their usual shy quietness, and the way your pitch raises is barely within your control. If you didn’t feel so conscious-shatteringly good, you might be embarrassed about how your voice echos off the walls. Normally Eddie’s the vocal one, and even with his drawn out groans, grunts, moans, and dirty talk that choruses alongside your own, you’re undeniably loud and it has Eddie’s thrusts stuttering already. 

He presses his fingers downwards inside of you and it’s like something shatters. You’re almost at your climax, but that small movement has his cock pressing perfectly against your g spot, and the stretch, the subtle pain, and the blatant pleasure of your fingers on your clit have your muscles seizing. He thrusts as deep as he can, moving quickly in and out to push you over the edge, and you erupt into shakes that tremor through your body. 

Your legs threaten to give out and your head turns foggy with buzzing luxury. His thrusts continue and even with your eyes squeezing shut, your vision gets darker until you see the sparkle of your pleasure peaking through like stars. 

Eddie spews moans and grunts after whimpers and curses, and pulling his fingers from your ass, he quickly grabs hold of your hips in a pinching grip. Staying planted in your cunt, he chases you downwards on the bed when your legs finally give out. He follows you, prolonging your high, and finding his own as he fucks you into the mattress. 

“Fucking Christ— fuck, fuck,” he grunts, hips slapping heavily to your ass in quick thrusts. The bruising grip he has on you, and the urgency of his broken curses tell you he’s on the edge. He sinks his cock deeply inside of you, convulsing balls pressing against your cunt, and you feel the subtle warmth of his orgasm fill you up. Working himself through his high in shallow thrusts with stuttered grunts, the room is silent as you’re reduced to levelling breaths. You feel as light as air with the pleasure of electricity strumming through every inch of you. 

He’s pressed to your back, both of you completely collapsed to the mattress but you need to feel more of him. You shift, reaching backwards, and like he reads your mind he’s already searching for you with an open hand. 

He pulls out, rolling to the side and you follow, moving yourself to lay against his chest. His hand in yours, it’s sticky and wet and full of lube but you hold it tight, squeezing it within your own. He squeezes back. 

You hum with more satisfaction and good feelings inside your chest than you can communicate. Eddie brings his other hand to your back, rubbing it up and down, replying with his own hum. 

“That was really good,” you mumble, leaning your cheek to his sweat damp chest.

“So fucking good,” he nearly growls, the tone of his voice proving the assertion of his truth. 

You laugh softly, pressing a kiss to his chest. His heart hammers below your ear and the rise and fall of his chest soothes you, relaxes you. 

“My shy girl,” Eddie hums and from the lightness of his tone you know he’s smiling. Feeling brave from your post sex high, you smile to yourself.

“I can’t wait to feel your cock in my ass,” you say. Eddie lets out a deep laugh that vibrates in his chest. 

“Not so shy now, huh?” 

Cheeks burning with your smile, you shake your head.

“Want to do you too,” you say. You lose a bit of your nerve but the dramaticized gasp you get from Eddie, you know that he knows what you mean. 

“You want to do me too?” he laughs. 

“Mhm, want to fuck your ass,” you whisper, just barely mustering the courage to say it. You’re rewarded for saying it with smooth, soothing strokes up and down your back, and a chuckle from deep inside Eddie’s chest. 

“Who woulda thought my shy girl’d be so dirty,” he says, pulling you even tighter to him, hugging you extra close. 

──────────── ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[lnfours]

ik i should probably send this thru the lando brain rot but i am not exposing my filthy side lol so please excuse that. BUT lando with a figure skater who competes in singles but has to pairs for a gala show. he casually picks her from the practice and sees the pairs program which is stemy AF. i am thinking of smth like very hands on each other and her partner throwing her in air and catching her; his hands all over her waist while the song could be smth like into you by ariana grande.

a jealous lando fucking her going like "bet he can't do this" or smth like "oh he will never be able to see you like this" or "come on baby i've seen you split your body basically half on ice you can stretch more than that"

lol i am sorry i yapped alot feel free to ignore if you're not into it sm.

THIS IS LOWKEY GIVING ICEBREAKER AND IM SO HERE FOR IT FUCK!!!!!! smut (18+ pls!)

cleaning out my inbox

he was waiting for you when your routine ended, his arms crossed as he watched you and your partner. he knew you had done a more sensual routine this time around, but the sight of some dude having his hands all over you made him clench his jaw.

he knew it was part of your sport, that it was something silly to be mad at, but he couldn't help it. he didn't like sharing, especially when it came to you.

not wanting to make him wait any longer, you quickly grabbed your things and made your way over to him, stepping off the ice and smiling at him.

"hey, sorry, i forgot what time it was," you sighed, sitting down on the benches, "have you been waiting long?"

he shook his head, "'s alright."

you raised an eyebrow at him as you unlaced your skates, "you okay?"

he was looking in the direction towards your partner, "hmm? yeah, baby, 'm good."

"you sure?" you asked, stuffing the skates into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder, "you look pissed off."

the conversation was interrupted when your partner called your name, stepping off the ice and smiling at the both of you, "good job today, you did great!"

"thanks," you smiled, "so did you! i'll see you friday, right?"

"yeah, i'll see you friday," he smiled, "have a good night guys."

you laced your arm with your boyfriends, pulling him away from sending the poor boy daggers, "good night!"

lando followed your lead, walking with you back to the parking lot and to the car. you threw your stuff in the backseat before climbing into the passenger seat, noticing the way his jaw was still tight.

he started the car as you spoke softly, your hand resting on his arm, "are you sure you're okay?"

he nodded before looking over at you, "yeah, why wouldn't i be?"

"like i said, you look pissed," you said, "did you wanna talk about it?"

"'m fine, babe, really."

his tone made you think otherwise, and then it clicked. he was jealous.

you smirked over at him, laughing softly, "oh my god, you're jealous!"

"no, 'm not."

"you are, look at you!" you chuckled, "c'mon, babe, there's nothing to be jealous about."

"i just don't like the fact that he had his hands all over you," he said, "that's all."

you grabbed his hand from the center console, placing it on your cheek, "doesn't matter, the only man who's hands i want all over me is sitting right here."

you pressed a kiss to his palm, smiling softly. he moved his thumb, the pad of his finger tracing over your bottom lip. he leaned the side of his head against the headrest when you pressed a soft kiss to his finger, mumbling a soft, "fuck, if you keep this up, i'm going to have to fuck you in this parking lot."

you smirked over at him, "is that a challenge?"

he looked out to the parking lot, the only ones left were you and one other car he had assumed was the owner's.

fuck it.

he reached across the console, unbuckling the seatbelt you had done up before helping you climb over to the drivers side. you smiled down at him as he reclined the seat back, giving the both of you more room as you lowered yourself to his level, hand resting on the seat as you hovered over him.

"quit it," he said, helping you pull down your leggings and underwear, tugging down his own sweatpants but leaving the barrier of his boxers between the two of you.

"i just can't believe you're jealous of matt," you snickered, "of all people, matt? really?"

"shut up," he rolled his eyes, helping you out of your hoodie, "unless you want me to make you shut up."

"i don't know, this is fun, don't you think?"

he sighed, pulling you down for a kiss with one hand on the back of your neck as the other slipped between the two of you to find your clit. he smirked against your lips at the sound of your muffled whimper, his index finger slowly teasing you.

he pulled away, his lips on your neck. he spoke between kisses to your skin, "yeah, not so talkative now, hmm?"

"gotta do better than that."

without warning, he accepted your challenge and slid his finger into you with ease. you moaned softly, his queue to add another as you closed your eyes in pure bliss.

"what's the matter, baby?" he teased, "cat got your tongue?"

you couldn't help the moan that escaped your lips, "just fuck me already."

"i'll think about it."

"lando!"

"this is fun, don't you think?" he threw your teasing words back at you, making you groan. your mouth fell open at the feeling of his thumb toying with your clit as his fingers worked inside of you, moving at a delicious pace because he knew your body and what you liked like the back of his hand. and he knew what buttons to push to make you beg for it, and boy was he going to push his limits today.

"tell me what you want, baby," he said, his teeth tugging on your earlobe, "c'mon, pretty girl."

"want you," you moaned, "please."

"see, that's all you had to say."

he slowly pulled his fingers out from inside you as you sat up, letting him pull down his boxers. his dick sprung free, slapping him in the stomach before he helped you lower yourself down onto it. you both moaned in unison at the feeling of him stretching you out, his hands gripping your hips as you slowly started rocking back and forth.

"fuck," he moaned, grabbing at your ass, your sign that he wanted to take control. he started thrusting up into you, making you moan loudly as he somehow went even deeper than before, "yeah, baby, who's pussy is this?"

"yours," you moaned softly, one of his hands coming up to pull down your sports bra, your tits bouncing freely as his fingers tweaked with your nipple.

"sorry baby, i didn't hear you. who's did you say?"

"yours, lando," you said louder, "fuck."

he moved his hand, fingers coming back to rub tight circles against your clit, "yeah, bet he wouldn't fuck you like this, would he?"

you shook your head, but that wasn't good enough for him.

"words."

"no," you said, "he wouldn't."

"yeah cause you're mine," he said, his thrusts somehow going deeper and faster in the confined space the two of you were in, "all mine. got it?"

you nodded, "always."

he smiled, bringing you back down for another kiss, a kiss full of love and passion despite how hard he currently was slamming into you. you moaned into his mouth, pulling away to speak, "just like this, fuck, i'm so close,"

he nodded, "me too," he spoke softly, "come for me, baby."

it didn't take much longer until you were squeezing around him, thighs shaking overtop of him as you moaned. he followed pursuit, his hips stilling as he came undone, the both of you sitting there for a minute to catch your breath.

you laid on his chest, his hands playing with your hair softly. you smiled at him and he smiled back down at you, "i love you, you know."

"i know," you smiled, "i love you too."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "you hungry?"

"i could eat,"

"perfect," he said, tapping your hip, "let's get dressed."

after getting yourselves situated, you smiled as he placed his hand on your thigh, pulling out of the parking lot.

"you know," you bit back a laugh, "you should get jealous more often."

"i literally hate you." he sighed before laughing softly.

"you love me."

"i do."

[vamphrrr]

Hi!! i loved your tough love fanfic of clarisse! so i decided to ask if you can make a clarisse la rue , (aphrodite child) reader, but she’s not some normal teenager… she’s a princess if you get what im saying??? lets say that aphrodite dated a princess and had a child with him before she left, and so that’s where reader grew up, no one knew that the reader was a princess u til she told clarisse, she was really worried clarisse was gonna hate her but clarisse is like “Woah me mad at you? no way” and clarisse supports her! (Including some kissing, flirting, it would be super nice if the reader was shorter the clarisse probably up to her chest like in the tough love fanfic!)

notes ; omgggg this is so cute!! i’m so glad u liked my last fic i was nervous about posting 😭. also i’ll be making clarisse call reader princess too now knowing SHE IS ONE! they’re already dating in this. i used the same banner bc i’m too lazy to create new ones based on plot LMAO. i wrote this so soon but sometimes if anyone requests it might take me a couple of days bc of school and stuff! think i went a little overboard with this one. i should probably start counting how much i write lol.

%% are you mad?

in which your super attractive girlfriend finds out the secret you’ve been hiding from her for so long. also, she accidentally meets your dad.

— clarisse la rue x f!aphrodite!reader

warnings ; reader has doubts, tall & buff clarisse / short reader (again), flirty!clarisse flirty!clarisse, a little angst?, kissing, two swear words, flustered reader (oh how the turned tables), ooc clarisse? (i’m never sure if i write her right), one suggestive thought in the first paragraph (nothing happened tho!). a little too much background i think… too much father, did my daddy issues come out? made reader’s dad a king bc plot reasons, maybe more emotional than requested srry😭

You couldn’t believe you were doing this. Sneaking off from your girlfriend’s warm bed in the middle of the night. For a minute, you wondered how’d that look to anyone watching. A girl hastily running from a cabin that she very obviously did not belong in, a long shirt —it was Clarisse’s— accompanied by small shorts, (which were not visible might you add). Oh and how could you forget, you were barefoot. Who’s bright idea was that? Oh, yeah, yours. Why?

Gods were you cold. Should’ve brought a jacket, you thought.

The bottom of your feet hurt, stepping on rocks and sticks and who knows what else would do that to you. Next time, you would definitely bring hiking boots or something. And a jacket. In the forest, you were far away from anybody that might disturb you. Pulling Clarisse’s shirt up until your shorts were visible, you dug your hand inside the pocket, meeting with a drachma. You approached the round well, splashing water mist being met with sunlight from below, creating a rainbow.

How? It was the middle of the night. Why was the sun inside? You decided not to think about it.

This well was old, dirty from not being used much. See, not many people knew about it. Apparently, it was for those that needed to talk to somebody reallyyyy privately, that’s why it was hidden in the forest, only appearing at night. You weren’t sure how that worked, but you stumbled upon it a couple of years back when you were being chased by wood nymphs for being out at night. They found you, obviously. Punishment was not escapable and you ended up having to clean the stables the day after you got your nails done. Yuck.

Now here you were again, this being the only place where you could speak to your father without anyone finding you. It’s not that you were embarrassed of him per say, it was that you really didn’t want anyone to know that you were a royal. I mean, how ironic was that? A daughter of Aphrodite, a Princess? Forget it. You’d get made fun of for the rest of your life. You especially didn’t want Clarisse to know. She was your girlfriend yes, and this was something very important that you needed to tell her about, but you weren’t sure how’d she react. You knew she wouldn’t make fun of you like others would, but you didn’t know if dating a literal Princess was too much of a deal breaker for her.

Being with a royal was too stressful, there was so much that they’d get criticized for and so little people that they’d be accepted by. Your dad was a King with many past lovers, Aphrodite included. The people loved her, I mean, who wouldn’t? But then she was gone, disappearing the same night she gave birth to you. Your dad knew of her, of this. He knew she’d be gone by the time the sun rose. Yet, he did nothing. Who was he, than just a mortal man? He could not stop a goddess from leaving.

He got with others after that, your dad had a lot of love to give. Maybe that was something that attracted your mother to him. Public lovers were not taken well, the people respected the King, sure, they just didn’t respect his partners. Constant judging, constant eyes following their every move, constant hatred being thrown, constant stress on their shoulders. In the end, they could never take it. Running away or completely disappearing seemed to be something they all had in common. Your father had to give up on love, small secret romances blossomed for a while, but never enough for it to go public.

That is why you were so scared to tell Clarisse of your status. She was smart, she’d realize being with you would not be worth the hassle. She’d leave you just like everyone else left your father. Clarisse was the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be able to handle it if she left.

You threw the drachma in, calling for the rainbow goddess to let you see your father.

“Dad,” you said, once the back of his head was visible.

He jumped, turning around. “Oh! My dearest daughter, you scared me.” He laughed a bit, looking at you with such soft eyes it almost made you cry. “Why are you Iris messaging me at this hour? Isn’t it time for you to be resting?”

You swallowed, a sudden knot appearing in your throat. “I just needed someone to talk to.” Playing with the ring around your finger that Clarisse gave you for your one year anniversary, you choked out. “I have this amazing girlfriend, she’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me here at camp and—” You stopped talking, taking a small breath, not noticing the familiar figure of Clarisse standing a couple of feet behind you. “—and I’m scared to tell her that I’m not who she thinks I am. That I’m not this girl that just so happens to be a daughter of Aphrodite. I love her so much and I want to tell her about you. I want to bring her to you in person because I want the two people I love the most to meet. But how do I do that when I haven’t even told her I’m a Princess and that the only way you two could meet is if I took her to our royal palace?”

Your father widened his eyes, not expecting his little girl to burst out her feelings just like that. He sighed, glancing behind your shoulder. “If this girl you love so much really loves you like you do her, she wouldn’t care about your status.” Staring at who he assumed was your girlfriend behind you, he continued. “She wouldn’t care that you hid this from her. Instead, she’d try to see it from your point of view.” Moving his eyes away from Clarisse, he looked at you, eyes squinting in light mischief. “You should tell her, she’ll understand. I love you.” Is all he said, before he was gone.

You’re left staring at a rainbow, your dad nowhere in sight. Suddenly, a branch broke from behind you. Turning around quickly, heart beating rapidly, you’re met with the eyes of your girlfriend. You immediately let out a gasp, not knowing she was there.

Clarisse speaks up. “You’re a Princess?”

You felt your mouth dry up. With wide eyes, you respond. “Please don’t hate me! I didn’t know how to tell you!” Walking closer to her, you reached your hands out, grabbing one of her own with both of yours. “Please, you have to understand. I didn’t want this to ruin us.”

She stayed silent.

Silence was haunting, especially coming from Clarisse, someone who was always provoking people and boasting loudly everywhere. You gulped, with lips shaking you asked, “A-are you mad?”

She lets out a huff. Was something funny? Was she annoyed? Angry? Did she not care at all? Those were the questions running through your mind. You’d find out the answers soon enough.

“Woah,” she shook her head, letting you see the slight amused smile on her face. “Me? Mad at you? No fucking way.” She reached her free hand towards your face, moving away the strand of hair that fell slightly over your eye. “It just… surprised me s’ all.”

You let out a breath, relaxing and putting your head against her chest. “Thank the gods, I thought you were going to break up with me or something.”

Reaching out again, she placed her forefinger below your chin, raising your head to meet her eyes. “How could I ever break up with someone so beautiful?” She leaned down, your lips grazing against each other’s. “Why would I leave when I can now be your knight in shining armor?” Closing the distance, your eyes fluttered shut. Butterflies were in your stomach just like the first time you two ever kissed. Without your lips separating, she put one arm around your waist, the other grabbing below your thighs, hoisting you up.

“Ah!” you screamed, separating your lips, not expecting it.

Clarisse smirked, seeing you get flustered. “You don’t have any shoes on.” You pouted, putting your arms around her neck so you wouldn’t fall while she walked back (not that she would let you fall off in the first place). “Didn’t think I’d notice, did you, princess?” Teasingly, she used the pet name, now knowing how much truth was behind it.

You whined, pressing your face against her neck. “You’re so unfair. I’m supposed to be the one flustering you.”

“Awe, the princess is mad,” she cooed, letting her lips touch the tip of your ear. “You want me to get on one knee and apologize?”

Clarisse laughed when you let out a loud groan, hitting her lightly on the chest. Smiling, she knew the only way she’d ever leave you was if she was six feet under. And even then, she’d find a way to get back to the land of the living just to be by your side.

The only things heard in the dead of night were the grasshoppers, chirping their little melodies into the darkness. That was until you muttered sleepily, letting out a yawn. “I love you.”

Clarisse repeated after you. “I love you.” Feeling your eyes fluttered close, she followed it with an almost silent “goodnight.”

Now that you were asleep, she felt panic slowly rise, steps quickening to reach the Ares cabin faster. She could only think about two things now.

Holy shit, she’s a Princess. Oh my gods, I met her dad.

[perpetuallyconfused10]

Im the one who asked about requests lol, I just have this Hotch thought and I can't stop thinking about it 🫂😭

Imagine Garcia "screaming" about a video, telling the whole team about it (except Hotch and Reader), and that video is on tiktok. When they spill something about the video, Hotch and Reader ask which video they're referring to, not knowing it's from a tiktok account where the person makes videos on Hotch x Reader (like edits taken from some interview where they look at each other, slightly touches and things like that) and it's a whole profile with a lot of videos like that! So the whole team teases them and they obviously like eachother!!

Feel free to change anything!!

Gone Viral, Gone Wrong

Thank you to this anon for submitting my first request! I might have written it (and especially Hotch) be a little (way) too sappy, but I love your idea so much and I hope I did it some type of justice! WC: 3.3K

GIF by ssa-aaron-hotch-hotchner

There must be something on your face. Toothpaste, maybe, or coffee on your shirt, or a tear in your trousers. Something to explain the numerous pairs of eyes following you as you dash for the elevator, just as you always do. 

This morning’s been one for the books. Between a text from your highschool ex-boyfriend, congratulating you on your ‘newfound fame’ — whatever he means by that, you don’t know — and the incomprehensibly slurred voicemails you woke up to from your sister, you aren’t quite sure what to do with yourself.

You tell yourself you’re probably imagining it. But Anderson doesn’t say a word to you as you both make your way to the BAU, just casts you sidelong glances between the rapid texts he’s sending. You hope to God it’s not you, that he's just having an awful morning, then scold yourself for it. If you’re not off to a good start, at least somebody should be.

It’s the silence in the bullpen that confirms your suspicions. Emily, JJ, and Garcia sit huddled around Emily’s computer, squeezed onto two chairs they’ve pulled together. Morgan leans over them to look at the screen. He’s in the middle of laughing at something Garcia’s said when you walk in. 

You don’t even need Reid’s not-so-subtle hiss of “Guys–” to know you’re not going crazy. The smirks that drop from their faces, the giggles that extinguish themselves as you enter through the double doors, are more than enough. 

Four profilers and a technical analyst, as it turns out, can be rather terrifying when the force of their stares are directed at you. 

A sheepish grin tugs at your lips as you hold up your peace offering: a tray of coffee. “Hi?”

You’ve come to know how the team works. You know exactly how they react when ambushed, how they spring to action like a well-oiled machine.

There’s something a little mechanical to them now, bared in their responses to your arrival. After giving you one of his usual tight-lipped smiles, Reid flips open a random file on his desk and begins to read. JJ grabs the computer mouse, clicks a few times, and turns away from the monitor to greet you. Morgan clocks the drinks in your hands and conjures a grin just a little wider than normal. 

“Morning, sunshine,” he says as he plucks the tray from your hands, thanking you with a squeeze to your forearm. 

Garcia, eyeing the gesture, nearly chokes on the end of the pen she’s chewing. She stands to usher you over to your desk, her chirpy voice a balm attempting to smooth over what has been a very odd start to your working day. 

“What were you guys looking at?” You ask her, eyebrows raised. If anyone’s going to tell you what’s going on, Penelope is, without a doubt, most likely to spill.

You’re disappointed – and even more confused – when she stands her ground. Through her ramble, you just about make out the words “cat” and “spa” before she’s kissing your cheek and speeding away to your lair. 

You sigh as you switch on your own computer. One thing is clear. The team doesn’t like to be ambushed. And, somehow, that is exactly what you have done. 

—

After finishing off one of your consults, you suffer through a morning briefing that ends up being far more complicated than it needs to be. It’s only a paperwork day, by the looks of things. In theory, this is the ‘easiest’ your job gets; if you’re not called out on an emergency, you can bank on a day of case reports and shitty coffee. 

Nothing is ever easy at the BAU, not even now. Everything is out of order. There’s none of the usual idle chatter that precedes a briefing, just a fragile silence. Rossi moves from his normal position to take your place between Reid and JJ. He mutters something about the chair being uncomfortable and shoos you away from your seat. Though you can’t resist the opportunity to call him an old man for his pedantics, you acquiesce and take his spot instead. You find nothing wrong with it. 

Then Hotch walks in to start the briefing, and you find about a hundred reasons to curse David Rossi. He’s wearing the gray suit, again, the one he likes pairing with his red tie. That should be a crime in itself. When he takes the only seat available — his usual seat, the one now next to you — you’re almost sure you hear JJ snort. Emily pats her on the back as she conceals it with a very unconvincing cough.

Hotch frowns in your direction, probably mulling over the change in seating plan, then turns his attention to JJ. “Are you alright?”

The blonde clears her throat. “Fine. Thanks, Hotch,” she says. 

Garcia rests her elbows on the table, her mouth concealed by the palm of her hand. 

Hotch nods, casting another short glance your way. “Good.”

Then he launches into the briefing, and you can almost convince yourself things are perfectly normal, that your face isn’t alight with heat and you’re not avoiding looking at him, that everything is fine. When you’re dismissed, you scurry towards the door fast enough you almost miss it. 

“Garcia?” His voice is quiet, his tone soft with something disapproving hiding beneath it. “My office, please.”

Everything is decidedly not fine. 

—

By noon, you can’t take it anymore. “Emily Prentiss, what the fuck are you doing?”

The question comes out louder and more harshly than you’d intended. In your peripheral vision, you see Reid’s eyes widen at the desk next to yours. Emily, halfway through a sandwich, freezes. 

“I’m sorry?”

The grin fades from her face. 

You huff. “You’ve been looking between me and your computer for the last half-hour. What is it? Is there something on my face?” Morgan laughs from the other side of the bullpen, and you raise your voice a little in desperation. “Seriously. Have I done something wrong?”

JJ must have heard the commotion, because she pokes her head out of her office door. She takes one look at you and sighs. “Probably best to get it over with, Em.”

When Emily hesitates, your eyes narrow. “Get what over with?”

She stands and beckons you over to her desk, firing up her computer screen as you settle into her chair. JJ comes down the stairs to join you. Though they don’t move, you can practically feel Morgan and Reid staring at the three of you from across the room. 

What you see projected on Emily’s screen doesn’t make things any clearer.

“That’s—” you pause, dumbfounded. “Why are you looking at me and Hotch?”

The picture is easy to place. It must have been taken a few days ago, during a small-town case. Hotch had asked you to deliver a profile to the media when JJ was working on something else. It was far from the first time you’d faced the press head-on during your time at the Bureau, but Hotch had stood by your side anyway. 

You’re not sure why she’s chosen this photo, if any, to look at. The wind’s blowing your hair into your face, and you’re midway through changing expressions so it almost looks like you’re in pain. 

“Just watch,” Emily says. She presses the spacebar and the picture bursts into action.

—

“—If you believe you have any information that may relate to this case, we’d appreciate you calling the following number…” you say. You proceed to rattle off the number for the tip line JJ’s set up, but only get halfway through before everything derails. 

“How do we know this isn’t all just bullshit?” 

The voice overpowering yours is weathered, and so is the man who pushes through the crowd of journalists to get close to you and Hotch, whose posture you see straighten in an instant. You watch as the reporters from the city turn to look at the interloper, pens out and waiting, no doubt, for either you or your boss to slip up.

For a long moment, Hotch watches the man, his face twisted in irritation. He merely restates the tip line number and your request for any potential witnesses to come forward.

But the skeptic doesn’t let up. “This guy’s an outsider. Not one of us. Everyone here knows each other, they have done for years—”

“We’re not trying to cause a panic,” you say, your tone even, “We don’t want you all to turn on each other. But the man we’re looking for knows this town. He’s confident finding his way around the forest, even the areas that haven’t been mapped out yet. He knows the shortcuts, which roads are quiet and which are too risky to take. We’re asking you to exercise caution, and to report anything suspicious if you see it.”

“So what? A few pins on a map and you’re convinced it’s one of us?”

Hotch’s jaw tightens. This case has been harder on him than most, and you can sense that he’s on the verge of responding in a way he’ll regret later. You put a hand on his forearm as he raises it to retort, squeezing it gently in the hopes he’ll get the signal you really don’t have the seniority to be sending him: stand down. He takes a deep breath, and you let your hand slide down to meet his wrist, guiding it just a fraction backwards to rest by his side. The contact lasts only a second, maybe two, before you let him be. 

When he finally speaks, his voice is measured, his eyes slow to drag themselves from your face. “We’re not here to defend the science behind criminal profiling. Our priorities remain finding the person responsible for these crimes and the safety of this community until we do. If you have any information at all, please don’t hesitate to contact us. We appreciate your cooperation.”

Even the most amateur journalist would know he’s done answering questions. Hotch gives a brief nod, turns and leads you out of the Georgia heat and back into shelter of the precinct. All the time, his hand hovers over your back, his gaze searching for any potential disruptions. 

Then there’s his voice, deep and almost inaudible. You feel his breath brush your earlobe. “Thank you.”

—

Oh. 

Now you’re looking at it from an outsider’s perspective, you do look a little…cozy with Hotch. Not enough to walk the line of unprofessionalism, but enough for you to notice it. 

Emily folds her arms, leans back in her chair. “What’s that about?”

Avoiding her eyes, you shrug. “What’s what about?”

“The canoodling,” JJ says with a smirk, and you slap her arm. 

You’re a profiler. You should know your little attempt at denial isn’t going to work, but it doesn’t stop you from trying. “Canoodling? Seriously, Jen? I don’t think anyone under the age of eighty has ever said the word ‘canoodling’.”

You hear Penelope’s kitten heels clacking against the floorboards before you see her. “Doesn’t mean you’re not doing it,” she sings. Her arms wrap around your shoulders from behind.

You groan. “Penny, you know I love you, but what are you doing here?”

“I got lonely,” she says, and her expression is so genuine that you can’t even bring yourself to be upset with her. “Just wait…”

Leaning over you to press the escape button, she exits out of full screen mode and points to the corner of the screen. When you read the number she’s showing you, your breakfast threatens to make a reappearance.

“Would you look at that?” Emily laughs. “It’s gone up.”

You blink. Once, twice, three times. And once more, for good measure. “Six-hundred-and-fifty thousand people have seen that?”

It all starts to make sense. The texts, the calls, the stares, the team’s behavior…you don’t know whether to be relieved or horrified. On the bright side, you’ve done nothing wrong, nothing that could get you fired. But more than half a million people have seen you practically mooning over your boss.

Emily makes a noncommittal noise. “Half of them were probably Garcia. And a good twenty-five or so were us, if that helps.”

“It doesn’t,” You resist the urge to slam your head against the desk. You’ll have to settle for burying it in your hands instead. “Six hundred and…fuck. And they all think–?”

“—That you’re in love with our boss? And that he’s in love with you? Yes.”

“Oh, fuck.” “They think that, too,” says JJ, sounding sympathetic. If it weren’t for the frankly dastardly smile on her face, you’d think she was on your side.

Picturing the general population witnessing you make an idiot of yourself is bad enough. How do you even conceptualize that many people? How many stadiums could you fill solely with people who have seen you head over heels for your boss? Even worse is the thought of Anderson, or your parents, or – God forbid – even Strauss having seen it. You’ll be suspended. Fired. Or, even worse, be called into a mediated meeting with Hotch and HR, where they’ll ask him if you’ve been making him feel uncomfortable. 

Emily’s voice pulls you from your shame spiral. “And there’s more, too.”

This world hates you. You’re certain of that as she opens Twitter, putting “FBI agents” into the search bar and bombarding you with hundreds, maybe thousands, of tweets with your image attached. Some are disturbingly sweet. Others poke fun at how obvious you are, and even more disturbingly, seem to think your feelings are reciprocated. That’s not a mental path you can allow yourself to go down. 

“So…” You say after a long ten minutes. “What do we do?”

Footsteps, then Rossi appears at the stop of the stairs. “You go back to work. Your break’s over.”

He’s lucky you’re so fond of him. Had it been anyone else (save maybe one person) to disrupt your shame spiral, you’d have been furious. More than furious. You’re still a little irritated now.

There was nothing wrong with his fucking chair. 

—

Your mission is simple. Avoid. Deny. Deflect. The rest of your afternoon drags along in a blur of paperwork and teasing comments you choose to ignore (mostly courtesy of Morgan — JJ and Emily have decided you’re nearing your breaking point and vow to leave you alone). 

Five o’clock can’t come soon enough. Even when it does, there’s no reprieve. Reid turns out to be the one to betray you as everyone else packs up to leave, their files in his hand. “Sorry,” he whispers. To his credit, he looks like he means it.

“Judas,” you hiss back, but you stand and take the reports from him anyway. 

Morgan raises an eyebrow at you. “Going somewhere special?” 

You flip him off, muttering something under your breath that sounds just a little like “your funeral”. 

The stairs to Hotch’s office feel much longer and much steeper than usual. At every step you reconsider. Reid’s probably still heading for the elevator now. If you catch him, you can guilt him into doing this instead. But your thoughts carry you close enough for Hotch to spot your approach through the blinds. He rises from his desk, opening the door before you can even reach for the handle. 

You can’t even look him in the eyes. “Hi.”

Stepping aside to let you inside, he says your name, and it sounds so warm coming from his mouth. You wonder if he knows about your newfound fame, too. He seems to be focusing his stare directly between your eyebrows. 

“I just came to drop these off.” 

As if your words aren’t explanation enough, you hold up the files for him to see.

“Thank you.” Hotch reaches out to take them, and you feel his fingers brush yours as he does. He stops before the exchange is over. “Are you alright? You seem distracted.”

It won’t be long now before the sun sets. It’s making its final play for glory now, golden light filtering through the window and settling over Hotch’s face. Hints of amber tones surface in his eyes, usually so dark and unreadable, making him appear much softer than usual. Safer.

You sigh. “I think some people got a little more out of that press release in Georgia than we intended them to.”

“Oh. Yes.”

“You know about that?”

You wouldn’t half mind if a wormhole opened up, right there in his office, and transported you to another universe where you don’t even have to think about this moment ever again.

“I do.” He winces. “Garcia’s computer system is the most secure in the FBI, but she doesn’t have an inside voice.”

The dry comment shocks a laugh out of you. “No, she doesn’t. But…it’ll die down, right? No one is actually going to believe that. Us being together would be—”

“Unprofessional,” Hotch supplies after a beat. “Very unprofessional.”

He reaches backwards to put the files you’ve given him on his desk, somehow managing to do so without actually taking a step away from you. If anything, he gets a little closer. 

“Exactly. Strauss would kill us if we even thought about it,” you say, “Not that we would, I’m just…”

Now he looks down at you, straight into your eyes. You swear his pupils are dilated, that he slips for just a half-second and lets his attention drift down to your lips. “There’d be a lot of paperwork.”

You nod. “Too much, really. You’ve got enough already. It’d also be…”

“…Nice.”

Hotch stops breathing, lips downturned in a frown. You’re sure you’ve heard him wrong. But half a minute passes, and he doesn’t retract his statement, though he looks as if he’s close to doing so.

“I’m sorry?” Your voice is barely above a whisper. He’s close enough you catch a hint of his cologne, and the woody scent of it makes your head spin. 

“I can say it again,” he says through a long exhale, searching your face for any sign of discomfort as he takes another step closer. His breath ghosts your neck. “Or we can forget this ever happened.”

Your answer is almost immediate. “Let’s not do that.”

Hotch tilts your chin up so you’re forced to look at him. You lean upwards to meet him halfway in a kiss that is soft and tentative, the sort that promises everything and asks for nothing in return. One of your hands cups his jaw, and both of his find their way home to your waist, rubbing circles into your skin through your shirt. You smile against his lips. He leans forward as if to chase yours when you pull away.  It hits you, now, that this is really happening. The months you've been agonizing over this - whether to make a move or to shut the part of you that cares for him away - have led you here. There's much you've got to think over: what this means for both of your careers, the risk to the team's dynamic, whether it'll even work in the long run, if Hotch wants that too. You know he's thinking the same thing; his face adopts the same mask of concentration it always does when he's considering something. You take a deep breath. It might be hard, but does that stop it from being worth a shot? In the end, you don't think it does.

“I think I’m gonna order takeout tonight,” you say quietly. “There’s a really good Thai place down the street from me.”

Hotch clears his throat. “That sounds nice.”

Shaking your head, you rest both hands on his shoulders, laugh at him. “That was my way of asking you if you wanted to join me.”

“Oh.” 

His brow furrows. For a terrible moment, you think he’s about to say no. And then, “Haley has Jack tonight. I…I’d like that.”

You beam, pull back, and head towards his desk to find a pen and a scrap bit of paper. “Here’s my address.” A quick glance down into the bullpen, which is thankfully empty. “Give it ten minutes, then follow me?”

“Okay,” Hotch says. Even you can tell he’s grinning like an idiot, and you make a note of the rare expression. “Okay. I’ll see you soon?”

Squeezing his hand, you kiss his cheek and walk towards the door. “Soon.”

You feel his eyes on you until you reach the elevator.

If you got this far, thank you for reading! I've watched a lot more Dharma and Greg than CM, lately, so I have a feeling that my version of soft!Hotch is currently just a grownup version of Greg Montmgomery????

[legy]

hi! i'm caelum. you might know me from @goldentruths-pod or from posting online. im in a financial quicksand pit and i really, really, really need help.

i'm disabled and receive approx ~$950 a month from social security. this has gone from "rough but survivable" when i first started receiving SSI to "i am literally not making ends meet" in 2024. right now my current status is that i am covering my basic needs but any kind of extra purchases are impossible. and the extra purchases i need to make keep piling up because i just can't afford them. some things i need include, in vague level of priority:

dolphin, my cat, is years overdue for a vet visit. this is going to be $300 minimum, possibly more because she has an adversarial relationship with the vet. she needs dental work done which they had quoted me as being $1500 but ive been putting it off for so long that i would not be surprised if that's more expensive too

i have learned today that my gold crown needs to be replaced. really unhappy about this one. it was a miserable experience the first time (everything that went wrong did go wrong, i'll spare you the details) but what is relevant here is that my insurance does not cover this and it was $900 last time. insurance also does not cover extracting the tooth either so that's cool. i have some time before this one is due (my next consult is in july)

my phone is approaching "unusably broken". i've had it for close to 4 years now. the call speaker no longer works (i can only use the phone on speaker mode) and it struggles to run apps or a web browser which makes things like GPS pretty dire. this would be like ~$100-$150 probably, i havent done serious phone shopping yet

my driver's license is expired and i need to get a new one. this was $110 last time. note i havent driven a car in years due to the disability but it's really valuable to have a universally recognized form of photo ID and ive already been hassled over it being expired

god this one is so embarrassing to get into but i had to flee my previous apartment last year due to it escalating into a DV situation. the other tenants did not pay the heating bill, which was in my name (and my dumb ass didnt close the account because it was the middle of february and i didnt want to freeze them to death) so i have a $250 utility bill in collections. i might be able to dispute or debt forgiveness this one but tbh ive been so fucking drained given everything else going on and also my phone barely works so i havent pursued it. especially since i can't afford to pay it if i cant challenge it

i would really like to have a passport again. my previous one was destroyed by my landlord in 2018 but even if it wasnt it'd also be expired now. not sure how much this one costs. likely $200?

my food stamps were slashed in half (covid emergency ending lol) and do not cover my food costs for the month so im paying like $150 a month on food that i didnt have to previously. i can maybe fix this one but im slowly losing my mind from malnutrition from trying to not go into debt and also eat. so i havent had it in me to go 1v1 welfare bureaucracy and possibly make everything even worse

my shoes are probably two months out from fully decomposing. they were $100 three years ago and id like to get something comparable given they lasted me this long

the rest of my clothes are also very literally becoming threadbare, falling apart, or are too big and keep slipping off. i legitimately feel embarrassed to go in public these days because i dress so shitty all the time

insurance doesnt cover my HRT anymore so that's $30 a month i didnt used to have to pay

im sorry this turned into such a ramble. i'm in such a bad way right now, i have been for quite a while and the dental work news is really just the final straw. i can't really have a fundraising goal because due to the SSI asset limit i can never own more than $2000. & i'm aware both that this is the poor people sending each other the same 20 dollars website and that there are people urgently trying to raise money to escape an active genocide. but i held off from making this post as long as possible & idk what else i can do

anyway if theres anything you can contribute to help me i would appreciate it more than anything. at the very least i need to do something about my tooth.

http://paypal.me/hivehum

[martinmuhl]

⋆✧˚ ༘ rivals? (part 1)

pair: kate martin x reader

warnings: cussing, just some tension (?)

summary: you and kate have been rivals since high school and kate’s finally had enough

authors note: hi hi this is my first fic!! ill definitely improve but i had so much fun writing this and if you want, i could potentially make a part two? i’m not sure how to work tumblr yet so im still figuring it out lol but leave requests and ill try to write some!! :) i hope you enjoy!

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

“are you fucking kidding me?” kate spits at you as you’re guarding her. well, you were guarding her before you sent her flying to the ground. as she looks up at you and her teammates rush to her side, you roll your eyes.

“what’s the matter martin? can’t handle all this?” you shot back, stealing the ball away from her as your own teammates rush to you. your team is losing by 15 and you know there probably isn’t a chance you’d come back and win, but god did you hate kate martin and her smug ass.

you and kate had history. your high schools were rivals and everyone loved the rivalry between you two, so the both of you started to despise each other. but you both could also feel a different kind of tension too.

throughout the last few years when your college teams played, everyone always went crazy for the big rivalry between you and off the court, the both of you had to play nice in interviews. but on the court tonight felt different. you wanted her to feel the hatred you had towards her, but you also knew there was an unspoken tension and always hoped things would go further. little did you know, kate felt it as well.

your team ended up losing as you predicted as you headed back to the locker room when you heard someone shout your name. “y/n! you gonna talk to me or what?” you turn around and there she is, rushing up to you. the two of you stand in the middle of the hall, glancing around to make sure nobody was around to witness the animosity between you.

“you never want to talk after we play each other. what’s there to say now? good game? congrats? see you next game?” you reply, hands on your hips.

“what’s there to say? you shoved me to the ground. you’ve never done that before no matter how much you hate me.” she shot back, growing angrier.

“i was tired of looking at your smug face, knowing you were going to beat us. knowing you were going to beat me again..” you trail off, as this is yet another loss to the hawkeyes.

“god, you really hate me don’t you? because of what? our rivalry? that’s such bullshit. we’re both good players y/n and i’m done pretending to hate you.” she says, suddenly grabbing your arm and pulling you towards her now empty locker room.

you were shocked. she was pretending this whole time? but you could feel it. when you made it inside the locker room, you turn to her, “pretending? that’s real funny martin. then what has this been for you the whole time? you like being an asshole to me for fun to get me all riled up huh?” you take a step closer to her, seething with rage. she’s acted like an ass towards you for years now? and it’s been fake this whole time?

kate takes a step closer as well, smiling. this pisses you off, but you can feel your heart hammering and a heat grow in your stomach and between your legs. “you know i’ve always liked when you call me by my last name. i’ve never told you that because i was afraid you’d stop. y/n, this rivalry between us makes me better, but it’s never made me hate you. i have to admit though, i think it’s hot you went out of your way to target me during the game tonight.”

hot? now you were aching with anger, intensity and longing. you for sure hate her in some ways, but not enough to make you not want to grab a hold of her braid, slam her against the wall and do unspeakable things to her. you don’t though. you just take a step back, stunned. “i… i don’t know what to say..” you say, those being the only words you can form.

kate strides toward you, your back against the wall now. she’s inches from your mouth when she leans down to your ear. “don’t say anything. i do like being an asshole towards you. it turns me on seeing you get so pissed at me, especially during a game.”

you’re about to push her away, thinking she’s done toying with you. how can you believe a word she says? she’s not done though as she says in a low tone, “and you know what? i can handle all this.” she nods her head, gesturing to your body. “and one day, i will.”

she backs up suddenly then, a smirk on her lips. your heart pounds, the throbbing between your legs increasing by the second.

“your bus is probably waiting for you. i’ll see you in a few weeks, y/n. make sure you save some of that hatred for me for after the game. i’ll show you just how much i can handle it.” she winks and then she’s out the door, leaving you alone in the iowa locker room.

for once in your life, you couldn’t wait to play kate and iowa again. kate martin went from your biggest enemy to your biggest need in only hours.

[qwimblenorrisstan]

Perspective | Ghost x Reader

Day 1: Body Worship w/ Simon “Ghost” Riley

Summary: Simon Riley has always thought of himself as broken and undeserving of you, but you’re always there to quiet his intrusive thoughts.

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: A little bit of angst, scars, mentions of death and fighting, smut, oral (m receiving), fluffy smut??, sub!simon, not too bad

Minors, do not interact!

A/N: im so impatient like I can’t wait for october to start, so merry christmas and a happy new year you’re getting this one early lol. anyways, I’m a sucker for ghost fluff and it shows, not too sure about how this one turned out, but hope you enjoy<3

Requests are open!

Masterlist

Simon Riley had thick skin.

It was obvious, really. You’d noticed it before in the little things while living in your home together. How the doors remained locked, everything stayed organized in the way he liked it, even how he was still getting used to being able to relax and let down his guard during the night.

But the wounds that lay deeper, engraved into the flesh beneath his skin, into his very heart, were ones he hadn’t let you see yet. Not until tonight, when you fumbled with the key to open the front door, knowing the loud knocking you would’ve usually done would probably disturb him.

The key decided to relent, letting you turn it and open the door as you walked into your home, the living room greeting you as the coat you were wearing was slipped off and placed onto the jacket rack to your left.

Simon wasn’t at the door to greet you like usual.

Strange.

Lips pressing into a thin line of mild worry, you mentally debated about it for a moment before calling out, trying to keep a bit of softness to your voice to not alarm him.

“Si?”

You began walking towards your shared bedroom’s bathroom when you heard a little clatter, the sound of something plastic hitting the floor, and low grumbling as you approached the door.

Your hand closed around the doorknob, the metal cold against your hand as you opened the door, peeking in, only to find Simon shirtless, sitting on the edge of the tub, with a tub of what looked to be some sort of lotion fallen over onto the floor.

You saw his Adam’s Apple bob as he swallowed, glancing from the lotion to you, eyes slightly wide and vulnerable like a child who’d been caught doing something they shouldn’t have.

“Hey,”

You said, trying to figure out what was going on as you crouched down, picking up the tub of lotion and reading the label on the front.

‘Scar Therapy’

“Hey.”

He said, voice thick with something you couldn’t figure out as he stared down at you, watched as your eyes softened, soft hand coming to cup his cheek, your thumb rubbing against his scar-covered skin.

Your head tilted to the side a bit, and Simon knew that look. You had probably already guessed what was happening here, but you wanted his version of it.

It was almost funny how nervous he suddenly felt. He was a Lieutenant, he’d killed men with nothing more than shrapnel, taken out entire military bases, and taken down powerful people, but it didn’t compare to this. Because he had to let his walls crumble even more than they already had with you, and it was terrifying, to let anyone in.

“I was just—my scars, they were…”

He mumbled, the old habit creeping back in. A momentary pause as his eyes met yours for a moment, and he forgot to breathe for a few seconds before getting the rest of his sentence out.

“Hurting. They were hurtin’.”

You moved subtly closer to him, your right hand dipping into the tub of lotion, the same hand approaching a nasty mark across his chest. You looked up at him, waiting for his approval, and he gave a small nod, watching with bated breath as your fingers began pressing the lotion onto the scar, gently massaging it in with small circles.

It was almost like you’d pressed a button in him, with how he seemed to almost deflate at that, heaving a deep breath out as he went pliant in your arms, only barely holding himself up.

Your fingers moved from his chest and torso to his biceps, and finally to his back, where one of the thicker scars near his spine was.

You could’ve sworn he almost whimpered, eyes squeezing shut and lips parting.

“Gentle,”

He breathed, and you let up a bit with your fingers, only giving featherlight strokes now, his breathing growing almost ragged as the both of you remained there for a long moment, that was until the lotion had been fully rubbed into his skin, and you reached to put the lid back on the container.

The silence seemed nearly impenetrable as he cracked his eyes open, following your every move, from the quiet screwing sound of the lid being put back on, to you placing it into the small cabinet area under the sink and closing it with a dull thud.

“Let’s go to bed.”

You spoke softly as if talking to a wounded animal, while slipping your hand into his significantly larger one, giving a small tug. He rose obediently, following behind you, deathly silent, feet rolling to not make any noise as he slipped into the bed beside you.

Both of you simply lay there for a while, him staring at the ceiling before he turned on his side to face you.

”Why do ya put up with me?”

He asked, a heartbreakingly vulnerable softness to his tone as if he was whispering something secret, something he didn’t want anyone else to know. Your brows furrowed as you turned on your side to face him, opening your mouth to speak, but he cut you off before you could get it out.

”I’m not..easy to deal with, ‘m fucked up, broken, so why do you keep lettin’ me come back—come home—to you?”

You didn’t have to look at his big, brown eyes to know that tears were welling in them, though you did anyway. You could only hope that he could see the sincerity in your gaze, that for once, he could finally believe you when you told him what he was.

”You’re not broken, Si.”

Your tone was soft, a gentle caress, but also carried a bit of firmness to it. That was that. No negotiation. Or at least, that’s how it should’ve been, but Simon Riley was more stubborn than you gave him credit for.

He huffed, though it mildly resembled a sniffle.

”You’ve seen my scars, I’m fuckin’ ruined, I don’ know what you see in me.”

He was trying to sound firm and stubborn, but you could still hear that vulnerability from earlier that was now hidden behind walls he’d built up. Walls he always put up when he was afraid.

”You want to know what I see in you?”

You asked, the idea already weaving together in your mind. It might not work, he might just reject your thoughts and praise, but it was worth a try. It was worth it for him.

Your right hand slowly began trailing onto his waist, and you saw his gaze snap down to it as he watched you rub little circles onto his hips. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, the calculating in his eyes, trying to figure out what you were doing, but this wasn’t a battlefield, and he was out of his element.

”Well, what I see,”

You began, voice a low murmur as your hand slowly trailed upwards onto his chest. His body became almost wholly still, stiff and tense, but he didn’t push you off, didn’t tell you to stop. Your hand slowly slid his shirt up, leaving his torso and chest bare to your view. You leaned in closer, your left hand going to slide his shirt further up, then right over his head, disheveling his short blond hair, before the shirt was tossed onto the floor.

”I see a man who’s gone through hell and back, and lived to tell the tale.”

You murmured, hot breath fanning against his skin as you began slow, light kisses against the scar on his breath, your hand now moving to gently caress the skin you weren’t peppering with kisses. His breath hitched in his throat.

You moved up, now at his collarbone as you began the trail of kisses again, from the sharp angles of his collarbone to the broadness of his shoulders, down to his biceps and forearms with the thick muscle adorning them, all the way down to his hands, where you kissed each calloused, rough fingerpad, stopping to look him in the eyes as you did it.

”I see a man who’s been treated so harshly his entire life, he doesn’t know how to handle love.”

He stared back at you, eyes wide, lips slightly trembling. His hands began shaking.

You moved down, hands fumbling with the metal of his belt for a moment, until his large, warm palm enveloped your hand, moving it away momentarily, only to unbuckle it himself, muscle memory kicking in as he unzipped his fly, slowly kicking his pants off, eyes meeting yours as the kisses began from his naval to his muscular thighs, and his ankles, before pulling away momentarily.

“I see a man who’s always been selfless and brave for other people, and never taken a thing for himself.”

You almost whispered, one finger slipping under his boxers, pausing, then continuing when he didn’t object, sliding the cloth down, down, down, till it was at his ankles, and it, too, got to join the pile of clothes on the floor. His hands were shaking worse now. You gingerly let your hand approach his cock, half-hard, and slowly wrapped your fingers around it, thumb rubbing against the tip as he gasped lowly, breath shuddering as his hips tried to jolt.

You didn’t stop him. That was a rule between you two, one that had been discussed before, no holding down or forcing, consent, and safe-words. He had a history, one he hadn’t shared yet, but you’d be patient and let him open up when he wanted to.

”Please,”

He breathed, head thrown back as you began gently rubbing, leaning down to slide the tip in between your lips, giving small licks as his body bucked up. You weren’t one to deny him, not when he was so relaxed now, taut muscles turning to putty beneath your fingers and mouth as you took him deeper, licking under his shaft, before sliding more in as he let out a low groan that sounded like a whimper, almost.

He was mumbling something under his breath, mouth agape as his hand snuck into your hair, trying not to be rough when he buried his fingers into it. He might’ve been begging, you couldn’t make much out of it, though.

Willing your throat to relax, you slid your throat down on him, further and further until your nose met the happy trail between his legs, and you saw the muscles of his thighs tense, flickering and jolting slightly, a sign of his impending climax as you lowly bobbed your head up and down. His hips jolted to life, though you could see the conscious effort he made to not harm you at all. With the shallow thrusts he made, it wasn’t long before he was moaning something incoherent, words slurring with a thick British accent he could usually keep under wraps.

Gingerly pulling off of him, you took a deep breath, softly panting as you grabbed the water bottle on the nightstand and took a swig, the liquid washing down whatever was left behind in your throat. You moved up on the bed, hand slipping under Simon’s head and carefully lifting, placing a pillow behind it, and bringing the bottle to his lips.

He would need the fluid after that, probably.

His throat bobbed as he drank it, nearly emptying the entire bottle, before you drew it back and screwed the lid back on, placing it onto the nightstand. Slipping out of bed momentarily, you opened Simon’s underwear drawer, grabbing the softest pair of boxers you could find, before returning to him and carefully maneuvering his legs through the holes, pulling up, and managing to get them decently onto his large frame as he grunted, one large hand tugging at your arm to pull you down to him.

You hummed in acknowledgment of his little tug, laying down beside him and grabbing the blanket, pulling it over the both of you and settling into the arms he wrapped around you, face settling in the nook of your neck.

”Thank you.”

He whispered, eyes wet against the warmth of your skin. You weren’t sure which thing he was thanking you for, exactly, but you replied anyway, to the man who’d given and given and given and never asked for anything.

”Anytime, Simon.”

[aardvaark]

Throughout leverage we see multiple different people driving the team/groups. Parker with the "I was taught to run from the cops", Sophie with the "taxi driver in Istanbul (citation needed)", Eliot with "I am getting us there in 5 minutes or less"... So what is your headcanon for how they decide who drives? Does Nate have a specific set of criteria where he picks who drives? Do they argue about who drives?

well, a lot of places they go, they need minimum two vehicles: hardison's van for tech (i think its only got two actual seats, though im sure people have had to sit in the back & get thrown around lol) and at least one car for other people/general driving. hardison tends to drive lucille so thats one down. if eliot's around to drive, he's probably driving the second car. if not, then nate, then sophie, then parker*. when hardison isn't driving lucille, he's probably as likely to drive as nate or sophie. and when tara's there, i doubt she has driving privileges lol.

in s1, i doubt they're carpooling much. like, they'd drive from their homes to the hq to the job themselves, and only go in the same car to do some quick task. later, they treat nate's apartment as home base and are frequently there for very little reason lmao, so thats when they actually have to plan more about who drives. obviously it heavily depends on how many cars are required and who's doing what. but. it seems like it's often nate driving with sophie as passenger, eliot driving himself or with parker as passenger, and hardison driving himself or with parker as passenger.

*detailed explanation of their individual driving under the cut:

parker is a genuinely great getaway driver, so her skills are useful in that type of situation... but i think 99% of the time, when they're not requiring a quick getaway, she is BANNED from driving. sophie even said so somewhere in s3, i dont remember exactly. canonically she can drive perfectly normally too (eg her driving with tara in the s2 finale) to be fair. she just doesnt want to lol. the stuff she has in her own car (both useful items and "decoration") is somewhat disturbing and very confusing. a lot of it is sharp. or a chemical hazard.

sophie drives sometimes but her driving can be... questionable, occasionally (ie big bang job). the (alleged) fact she learnt to drive from a taxi driver in istanbul seems to imply she didn't learnt to drive later than most, when she was traveling a lot? her attitude of "if i'm doing my job right, the mark just turns off the alarm for me" makes me think she'd apply the same logic here and would've done more hitchhiking & public transport than driving when she was first starting out, but over time got herself a car and learnt to drive because its kinda a safety thing in her line of work (need a getaway). all this to say, she can drive and she might have a nice car but its not her priority, you know?

nate drives sophie, some mix of her thinking its chivalrous and him having some ingrained ideas about male gender roles, but also just personal preferences. and a little bit because hes seen some of her questionable driving choices. once they're together, this changes to a more even split. also nate is def a backseat driver (like, regardless of who's driving/their skill level) and has been kicked out of a car at least once.

hardison is also mostly fine to drive or not drive like sophie. he'll bicker with eliot about who drives but mostly that's just an extension of their ongoing bickering saga. every time one of his lucilles gets exploded or whatever, he has a period of mourning and takes a couple weeks before he'll let other people drive the next incarnation of lucille - and to be fair thats usually because one of them was responsible for killing lucille.

eliot doesn't let other people drive his car (unless its absolutely necessary for a con - see: the boost job). he only begrudgingly lets people IN his car because SOMEONE spilled slushie all over it one time and yes he will continue to bring that up a decade later, hardison. i think being around the team has made him become one of those people who has strict rules for being in his car lol - no food/drink, no leaving anything in the car that doesnt have to be there. obviously the team break these rules all the time.

and the definition of what is a "necessity" and can therefore stay in the car is a BIG ongoing debate. some items of interest on the "necessity" list: gift wrapping paper, one (1) shiny thing, a gaming console, chloroform, a neatly packed bag of spare clothes, at least one dress hanging up with a dust cover, 3-5 CDs (which must be individually approved before being added to the car and only one of which can be christmas-related), spare reading glasses, cables that eliot annoyingly can't veto because he doesn't understand that stuff enough to argue, aluminium foil, and a pack of hair ties.

some things that have been BANNED: food & drink, glitter (there was an incident), nail polish (there was more than one incident), most tech stuff ("that's why you have lucille!"), secret money stashes, anything considered priceless by art experts, "surprises", and live animals.

i would love a road trip episode where most/all of them are taking turns driving and are stuck together in a vehicle for ages. also i now have the urge to go through the series and actually chart who drives.

lol thank you very much for the ask and ik the length is crazy but i hope this is a good answer haha.

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[lordsukunas]

never make him love me

tldr: you’re determined to confess to teen!gojo, but your chances of success are literally 0.

cw: angst/no comfort... sorry? reader is a bit very delusional n kinda weird, gojo may be a bit ooc, no curse au, gender neutral (i think) but reader is wearing a skirt, and im p sure this is not very accurate to the actual japanese school system. not beta read btw

a/n: this has been in my drafts for too long... whoops! trying a different divider but i don’t rlly like it. also does reader count as a girl/boyfailure here or not? they kinda strange tbh :/ idk lol, hope yall enjoy getting rejected by gojo n can yall guess who hes already in love w

you’re in love with gojo satoru.

which, to be fair, a lot of people are. he’s a pretty face: soft, snow-white hair with bright cerulean eyes that draws anyone and everyone in. a big, gorgeous smile, and long, muscular limbs that you just know would feel so good wrapped around you.

plenty of people have confessed to him, and all of them have been rejected. that should be enough to put you off, to make you face the reality that gojo may not be madly in love with you, but it just makes you more determined. he’s just rejecting everyone else because he’s waiting for you!

that has to be it, right?

definitely, you think as you skip to gojo’s classroom. you can feel the weird stares from students (and even a teacher or two), but they don’t matter. you’re going to confess to gojo satoru, damn it, and nothing’s getting in the way.

it’s lunch period, thankfully, which means he’ll be with geto and ieiri. that’s good — his best friends will be there to watch him declare his reciprocated love for you.

you slide the door open, love letter and two packs of kasugai gummies in one hand. a few students in the room glance up at you, including gojo!

the two of you lock eyes — well, you think you do. it’s a bit difficult to tell, but his head is facing your direction, so he’s totally looking at you. he’s noticing you!!!

you bite your lip to stifle the giggle bubbling up in your chest and walk up to the perfect trio (hopefully, soon to be quadruple). “hi, gojo,” you say, a nervous yet giddy smile on your face.

“... hey?” he exchanges looks with geto before focusing back on you. “do i know you?”

okay, ouch. you literally sat behind him in chemistry, but, whatever. don’t focus on the little things!

“um, probably not, but!” you hold out the envelope with a heart sticker as the seal. “i have something to tell you.”

“uh... okay.” gojo scratches the back of his neck, then takes the letter. he slides his finger under the seal, tearing it open, and pulls the letter out. he unfolds it, and both geto and ieiri lean in to also read it.

a frown tugs at the corners of your lips. the words were meant for just gojo, not those two. although... does it really matter? you’re just proving that you’re a good fit for their best friend.

after a drawn out moment of silence, gojo chuckles, albeit awkwardly. “wow, uh... this is a lot.”

you nod. “yeah!” you also hand him the packs of gummies, which he takes a bit more eagerly than the letter and sets them on his desk. “so, um...”

your heart has been hammering in your chest this entire time, but now it feels like it’s trying to escape. sweat accumulates on your palms, and you resist the urge to wipe them on your skirt.

this is the big moment.

you hope and pray and plead to whatever being that’s out there for gojo to accept and reciprocate your feelings. with all the manifesting and ‘love spells’ you’ve done, it should work. gojo satoru is most definitely in love with–

“this is nice, but, uh, i’m not interested.”

...

what?

you blink down at him, and now you’re the one chuckling nervously. “i’m sorry?”

maybe you misheard. that had to be it, right? there’s no way he isn’t in love with you. you bought him gummies, you wrote him a letter, you spent countless hours researching and trying different manifestation methods, you prayed at the shrine, you learned his schedule so that you could pass by him on the way to class, you did everything for him.

he scratches the back of his neck again before refolding the letter and putting it back into the envelope. “i’m not really interested in a relationship right now. you’re probably really cool and stuff, so don’t take it personally.”

no, no, no, no. this isn't how this was supposed to go! he was supposed to say yes! what happened? what did you do wrong?

now you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of his friends. his best friends. how are you supposed to come back from this? thank god no one else in the room is paying attention right now.

heat creeps up the back of your neck and spreads to your face. sweat is drenching your palms, blood is roaring in your ears, and you really want to melt into the ground never to be seen again. you’re pretty sure your heart just shattered into a trillion pieces and a shard pierced your lungs, because you cannot breathe.

you then feel a hand on your forearm, and you jolt. it’s ieiri. “hey, are you–”

“i’m fine!” you blurt, and a few heads turn in your direction. you take the envelope back from gojo, spin on your heel, and rush out of the classroom.

damn it.

you’re pushing past people to get to the restroom, and you slam the stall door shut before locking it.

you’re so stupid. how could the gojo satoru be in love with you?

the tears finally spill from your eyes, running down your cheeks, and you let your face fall into your hands as you sob.

idiot, idiot, idiot.

you should’ve known you wouldn’t be any different. he wasn’t waiting for you. he’ll never be waiting for you. you never had a chance, and in your defense, no one did.

gojo’s heart has already been claimed by someone else, and if you were a little smarter, you’d know exactly who it is.

[viiiiiiiiiin]

What do you guys do on Valentine's Day !! (GN reader)

Includes: Nami , Robin , Sanji , Law , Kid , Ace , Sabo.

Masterlist

A / N: SORRY ITS SHORT !!@ Im writing this on a phone and with a headache. I hope you guys enjoy 😣

Cat Burglar: Nami

If you guys just recently got into a relationship , she's very frugal with her money. Though , if you guys have been in a relationship for a while , she's more than willing to spoil you.

She probably started growing some flowers for you in the garden !

She's had this day planned out for a while , actually. She made the crew dock at an island and reserved a table at the fanciest restaurant she could find there.

Then , she would book (or bribe someone to book) a private room for you two. She would get you a rose (that she grew) before you even arrived.

She's over here wearing a beautiful dress , hair done and everything. She even bought you a beautiful suit / dress / fit to match with hers !

After the date , she takes you to a hotel and spends the entire night with you. You guys even go out on a shopping spree ! New clothes , jewlery , weapons , whatever you guys wanted ! All discounted , of course.

You guys end the night with a cuddle session in your room ! (Or a fun night. It depends)

Devil's Child: Nico Robin

She's VERY romantic with you.

She's gotta have SOMETHING on you the entire day. Rather it be holding hands , kissing your cheek , hugging your waist , or rubbing your shoulders. She just loves making you flustered !

She takes this entire day spoiling you. She uses her devil fruit to massage you and make you relax.

You guys even take a rosey bath together ! She may even get hansy there too . .

She asks Sanji to cook you two something you both love so you can eat together while bathing or in the girls' room.

She also spends time reading with you ! She introduces you to her favorite love stories.

She ends the night with a cuddle session as well. She's probably the big spoon lol.

Blackleg: Vinsmoke Sanji

The most romantic out of all of them !

Breakfast in bed (your favorite) , lunch is all of your favorites , and so is dinner ! He loves the little faces you make when eating the stuff you love.

He definitely put rose pedals in your room. He gave you so many gifts throughout the day that you didn't have enough room for them all ! Chocolate , flowers , etc.

He makes the entire day about the both of you. He hugs you and kisses you all day !

He even sets up a candle lit bath for the both of you. Roses around the tub , warm bubble bath , and some exotic sweets for the both of you.

He , like Robin , has to have his hands on you the entire time. He loves you so , so much.

Surgeon of Death: Trafalgar D. Water Law

He didn't even remember that it was Valentine's Day until you gave him a gift.

He felt horrible for forgetting about it. He had been so , so busy with his studies. And what he was going to do about Kaido.

He makes it up to you by docking at the neatest island and taking you out to eat. Even though he doesn't like PDA or public affection.

He gives you a rose while his face is LIT UP with red. He's so embarrassed. Shh he's trying his best.

When you guys came back to the Polar Tang , he tries to finish his studies but allows you to be in there with him.

Once he's done , he bathes and goes to sleep with you. He's probably the little spoon . . .

Eustass "Captain" Kid

He's . . Horrible . . At romantic stuff.

He gives you a little heart trinket while blushing madly.

He brings you out to eat (and almost burned the place down because of the way people looked at you).

He asks Killer for advice. He doesn't know what he's doing , at all. He tries to follow what he said to do , but he fails. He's trying , don't blame him.

He held you close the entire day and made sure everyone knew that he was your boyfriend.

Though he won't admit it , his heart is racing like crazy. If you point it out , he'll yell and deny it.

Firefist: Portgas D. Ace

When you guys docked on the closest island , he took you on a picnic date ! He asked Thatch to make your favorites and his favorites.

He took one of your shared blankets and sat near the sea.

He never believed he could be loved , but you proved him wrong. That's why this day is so important to him.

He brought flowers ! A whole bouquet. He won't say it , but he used your money for it since he was out.

Anyways. He held you the entire time (when he wasn't asleep) , and you guys both had very heartfelt conversations.

You guys fell asleep together , counting the stars and talking about how each line of stars reminds you of something different.

Fire Emperor: Sabo

He had been planning what he'd do for a while too.

He pretended like he forgot. Once you "reminded" him , he acted surprised.

Eventually , he surprised you with a romantic date at an expensive fancy restaurant.

Dragon gave him the funds for it ! He encouraged you both and smiled as he walked out.

He even made a tray of your favorite sweets ! Even though he's not the best baker , he tried his best.

He tries to make you smile the ENTIRE time. He just loves how you look ! Rather you have an upward smile , an upside down smile , a chubby face with a smile , or a skinny face with a smile , he loves it all. He loves YOU.

[shakespearean-dream]

TW!!! — blood, scarring and mild body horror ahead 🥲

benny’s turn!

before i start i wanna clarify i hesitated a bit on posting this because lovely mutual @vor-leser just posted his benny interpretation (go look at it and follow him btw), and idk if we like mind melded or smth but our human benny’s are super similar LOL. i damn near scrapped the whole thing out of fear someone would get mad at me but i Would Not be able to start over and get this done ever so this is as good as we’re gonna get. 😭 my apologies niko love u /p

this has been like a full 7 days in the making 😭😭 the art block that i felt coming on while doing ellen and ted hit me like an optimus prime sized semi truck this week along with a depressive episode so i definitely appreciate that happening and i am not upset about it at all! /s i’m totally good so don’t worry or anything /gen, mental health is just weird and i also wanted to explain the gap in my posts 😔

i do not know how to feel about this drawing if i’m so fr with you; i’m proud of myself for AM-ified benny cause i think i got the slowly rotting from the inside out primal freak energy down pretty good, but on the other hand this feels kinda empty?? i usually have a lot more commentary squished in here but i think my brain’s a little fried 🤦‍♂️ i love drawing me some beautiful buff men though so drawing normal ben was familiar territory. however his wack ass haircut i gave him is his punishment for being a PRICK!!! go sit in the corner and think about ur actions benjamin.

like ted n the rest of the sillies i’m not straying too far from canon with his personality, he’s an ass and a murderer and a hella smart dickhead who desperately needs to be punished by the universe (thank you for that one AM). hot take i did not like his “redemption arc” in his game scenario and i don’t think with how he was throughout the entirety of his life (and also throughout the game, main example his inner dialogue) he would actually go out of his way to help the kid because he means it??? n prove he changed to the guys he killed cause he means it??? i dunno maybe AM torturing him made him have a main character “omg i’ve been in the wrong this whole time!!1” moment like the game suggests i’m just not buying it 💀 i’m sure it’s just cause bennys scenario couldn’t be too long and they couldn’t fully flesh him out which i won’t fault the game makers for. i’m a steven universe fan, i know what time constrictions can do to a plot and redemption arc 😭 looking at you white diamond…

his wife n kids are up top and they’re kinda neat to me— i was considering the hc that part of the reason manya (his canon wife) left him is because she realized she was a lesbian which would be funny as fuck considering benny’s also One Of Them Queers 😭. i think during the brief times he was home and able to parent his daughters they got really scared and tired of him, one because he’s just a very threatening powerful and overbearing man, but also because i feel like he would’ve been on their ASS about everything. grades, extracurriculars, friends, wardrobe, this guy was micromanaging his family to an annoying extreme (ofc because of his perfectionist complex). he probably loved manya and the kids in his own weird way, but it was more contractual to him than any real personal relationship. maybe he inherited that from his own parents?? i doubt he ever talked to them after he moved out.

that’s about the end of my thoughts on this fucker. 🥲 funny storyyyy i just remembered i have laundry to finish so im gonna go do that, lord help me. thank you for reading all this if you did!!!!! we’re over halfway through so who do yall want next? wanna save AM or nimdok for last? i’ll see u guys later :]]]

[angelellipsis-devilofdots]

those feminine rage songs sound cool, but i’m not sure why you felt the need to randomly drag taylor swift as a means to promote other songs with cool, female rage/feminist undertones because taylor literally has her own song using religious iconography as a means to deconstruct and come to terms with being in a traumatic, emotionally abusive relationship (literally just pray by the amazing devil 2.0) and if you spend like half a second analyzing her lyrics through a literary lens, you can see that this theme of trauma is portrayed consistently across multiple albums and songs to create a continuous narrative. like that post would have been great and probably had more of a positive reach had you done literally anything else but say “fuck this artist, try these instead lol.” maybe try doing the barest modicum of research next time before attempting to slander someone else’s art in the name of “true feminism” just cause you personally have a bone to pick with them. really just shooting yourself in foot there.

taylor has historically claimed to be a feminist and her fans consider her to be empowering while she, in reality, puts down other female artists by rereleasing the same music over and over to keep her number one spot. her new album is ableist. she is an abuser to both her employees and partners. she is a cheater. she has tried to copyright the term feminine rage as if she invented it and this never sits right with me cause she doesnt fucking own it

if you enjoy her music fine but that doesn't make her any less bad of a person and i will drag her and im not changing my mind

PS dont fucking dare compare taylor to the amazing devil who are palestinian rights, queer representation, and blm activists and make conscious efforts to be ecofriendly and care for the environment