wolvesandfoxes25
wolvesandfoxes25
🌟🌟 will guide you home, & I will try to fix you.
6K posts
Stony, Geraskier, Aruani, NaruSaku, Jonsa and Daemyra...anti Stucky, anti Radskier.. sorry.
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 10 days ago
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Now here's Sanemi!
Sanemi
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 10 days ago
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I used ai for this. I made Sanemi and Giyu
Giyu
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 25 days ago
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"Ëąá”’á”á”‰á”—Ê°á¶€á¶°á”'Ëą Ê·Êłá”’á¶°á”Ë’ ʷʰᔃᔗ ᔈᶀᔈ ËąÊ°á”‰ ᔈᔒˀ Ꮀᔒᶰ'á”— ᔗᔉ˥˥ ᔐᔉ ʞᔒᔘ á”–ËĄá”ƒá¶°á¶°á”‰á”ˆ á”—Ê°á¶€Ëą á¶ Êłá”’á” ᔗʰᔉ á¶ á¶€ÊłËąá”— ᔗᶀᔐᔉˀᔎ Ꮁᔛᔉᶰ á”–á”’á¶€Ëąá”’á¶°á”‰á”ˆ ᶜᔃᶰ'á”— ᔇᔉᔃᔗ Ꮀᔒᔘᔐᔃᔎ ᔂʰᔃᔗ ᔃᶰ á¶€á”á”–Êłá”‰ËąËąá¶€á”›á”‰ ᔃᶜᔗᶀᔛᶀᔗʞ ᶜᔒᔐᶀᶰᔍ á¶ Êłá”’á” ᔗʰᔃᔗ áŽŽá”ƒËąÊ°á¶€Êłá”ƒá”Ž ᎎᔒʷ ᎔ ᶠᔉᔉ˥ á¶ á”’Êł Ê°á”‰Êł ᎔ ᶜᔃᶰ'á”— á”‰ËŁá”–Êłá”‰ËąËą ˒ ʞᔒᔘ á”ƒÊłá”‰ Ꮁᶰᶜʰᔃᶰᔗᶀᶰᔍᔎ"
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 26 days ago
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Stress Relief (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot
Based on this post that I made and y'all, it spiraled so quick. This is the longest smut I've ever written, I feel like I've gone INSANE
Summary: Aaron had been holding back from going down on you as often as he wanted to, until you propose a new idea.
Warnings: 18+ mdni!!!, so much oral (f!recieving), fingering, switch!hotch + reader (it just happened), semi-public sex, office sex, overstimulation, hotch is pussy whipped + feral abt it, maybe technically free use kink, bits of fluff, crackfic vibes w the team, i have not edited this i wrote on pure vibes like a woman possessed
WC: ...7.7k
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It starts one morning in a coffee shop, and you’re running so late that it should actually be a criminal offense. Thankfully, you are your boss, so this is allowed, as is choosing to grab a coffee when you’re already late, but that doesn’t mean it’s a wise choice. 
You quickly change your mind on how wise you’re being when Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome joins the line just before you do. 
You’re a regular at this coffee shop -- it’s a quick walk around the corner from your office -- and Aaron is, too. That’s all you know about him, unfortunately. Well, you know he drinks his coffee black, one sugar sometimes but rarely, and that occasionally, he asks for a croissant as well.
You don’t even think he’s noticed you, which is fine, because the two of you aren’t friends by any means. You’re fellow regulars who sometimes chat quietly in line, but it has never gone beyond that.
Until today.
Until, you catch Aaron’s quick glance behind him, you catch his little smile, and you hear him add your drink to his order.
“Her usual as well,” he adds casually, tapping his black credit card before you can protest and before you can pick your jaw up off the floor.
“Thank you,” you tell him, stepping to the side with him to wait for the drinks. “You didn’t have to do that.”
His smile turns bashful suddenly, and he looks down at you, eyes fond. “I’ve been meaning to do it for weeks, actually.”
Your eyes go wide before you can stop them, and you’re sputtering through a reply that has you both giggling and blushing still when the barista places your drinks onto the counter.
“Thank you,” you say again. The two of you step outside onto the sidewalk. “I’d love to stay and chat, Aaron, but I’m really late for work.”
He chuckles. “I was wondering why you were in there this morning, this is usually pretty late for you-- for both of us.”
“Yeah, what’s your excuse?” you tease.
He shakes his head. “Morning off. Everyone isn’t coming into the office until lunch.”
You glance at your watch. It’s almost ten. “But you’re going in now?”
He shrugs, the sheepish smile returning. “I can’t really afford to take the entire morning.”
“What do you do?” you ask, and really, you shouldn’t be having social hour right now, but you can’t help it. This is the most you two have talked, finally going beyond the usual great weather today and ugh, it’s Monday again kind of small talk.
“Um,” he pauses, looking off in the distance beyond you. He’s clearly hesitating, and that has you slightly panicked, until he answers. “I work for the FBI.”
“No shit,” you blurt, covering your mouth as soon as you say it. “Sorry! I just wasn’t expecting that. I was expecting some government thing, I mean practically everyone around here is, but
the FBI. Woah.”
“It’s not as glamorous as it sounds,” he assures you. He digs into his suit pocket, pulling out a pen. “Listen, I really don’t want to keep you since you’re late, but I’d
I’d love to talk more. Maybe over dinner. Or coffee, when we don’t have work to get to and things to do.”
He’s rambling and it’s possibly the most adorable sound you’ve ever heard. You nod along with him, a smile slowly creeping onto your lips.
He’s still talking when you take the pen from his hands and use your non-dominant hand to hold his paper coffee cup steady enough to write your number on it hastily, along with your name, not that he needs it. He sees what you’re doing and stutters to a stop, a blush dusting his cheeks.
“Call me,” you tell him with a wide smile, handing him his pen. “We’ll set something up.”
You’re down the sidewalk and disappearing around a corner before he can get his words together.
+++
Hotch, in hindsight, knew better than to walk into the BAU office with a coffee cup with a woman’s name and number written on the side of it, but in his defense, he gave the team the morning off. He told everyone to come in around lunchtime.
He shouldn’t have been surprised, then, to find Reid sitting at his desk with a book in hand, Emily laughing with Morgan, and Rossi already pouring coffee out of the BAU’s fancy new coffee machine that he somehow got approved.
“There he is,” Rossi announces Hotch’s presence, and everyone turns. “Slow morning?”
“Yeah, thanks,” Hotch smiles, not-so-discreetly turning the cup so the writing is protected by his palm.
But everyone saw it before he moved it. Everyone took note.
No one says anything, of course, but “no one” does not include Dave Rossi, who follows Aaron up to his office and shuts the door.
“So,” Rossi makes himself comfortable in one of Hotch’s chairs, smug smile and all, “good morning, I assume?”
Aaron makes sure the writing is facing him and not Dave. “Stop fishing,” he says, but he is smiling a little, and he is rummaging through his briefcase to avoid meeting Dave’s eyes. “My morning was fine.”
“Seems it was better than fine,” Dave chuckles. “Whose number is it?”
“No one’s.”
“Is it the same No One that you see every day?”
“I don’t see her every day.”
“Aaron,” Dave chides through a laugh. “It wasn’t until six months ago that you started going to that coffee shop every day, and I’m assuming that’s when you started talking to her.”
“I bought her coffee today,” Aaron confesses, settling down into his chair. “She was running late for work, we didn’t get to talk much.”
“But she did write her number on your cup,” Dave raises an eyebrow, nodding toward it. “That’s something.”
“Yeah,” Aaron smiles, thumbing over the dried ink. “It’s something.”
From that day forward, it doesn’t take a profiler to figure out that Hotch is dating someone. The number on the cup was enough, but his behavior is a dead giveaway.
Suddenly, he’s not staying at the BAU until odd hours of the night. He isn’t taking naps on the couch in his office. He’s actually taking a lunch break, sometimes even leaving the office altogether to meet you somewhere. He finishes the paperwork for a case at a normal pace, and, most damning, he’s smiling again. All the time.
The first day you visit him at the BAU is not planned. He left his lunch on the kitchen counter that morning, and you, having stayed over the night before, thought you’d just pack something for yourself and join him for the hour.
The second you step into the bullpen, it turns into gossip central. Is that her? She’s gorgeous. Wait. Is she living with him? Look at him! He hasn’t smiled this hard in years. How long did he say they’ve been dating? They look comfortable together.
Aaron had warned you that when you eventually met the team to be prepared for how nosy they can be. They mean well, they really do, but it’s an inevitable side effect of the job. A team of profilers are bound to be in each other’s business from time to time, no matter how hard they try to adhere to the unspoken “No profiling each other” rule.
Needless to say, you are not surprised to hear the whispering accompanied by the heads turning. The team knows you’re a keeper, though, because you pay them no mind, waving and smiling as you head up the stairs to Aaron’s office.
“Hey,” he grins, meeting you at the door with a quick kiss on your cheek. “Thank you.”
“I knew you’d likely just go without, and we can’t have that,” you tease, walking into his office with him. “Mind if I join you?”
“Of course not,” he says, pulling you over to the couch. 
You’re pure stress relief, a balm to his chaotic days. Today has been rough, mountains of paperwork, Use of Force reports sneaking up on him, and demands from Strauss that he hasn’t met yet. Forgetting his lunch had been the least of his worries -- because he would’ve forgotten about lunch altogether -- but seeing you makes it all better. Always.
+++
Six months into the relationship you aren’t exactly living with Aaron, but you are spending less and less time at your own apartment, and the two of you have tossed around the idea of you letting your lease expire and moving into his. But there’s still time to figure that out, so for now, you’re here when he’s home and not on a case, and you’re here when he gets back.
He wants to see you first thing when he lands, so it’s simply easiest for you to be waiting at his place when he touches down. When he finally comes through the front door, you hear him dropping his bags and shedding his coat. You’re just about to stand to greet him when he practically collapses into your lap.
“Hi,” you giggle, narrowly avoiding suffocation with a sudden armful of your six-foot boyfriend. “Bad one?” you ask gently.
He nods into your neck. “Long” is all he says, placing a kiss where the hollow of your shoulder meets your neck. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, turning to press a kiss to his temple. It wasn’t the longest that he’s been gone, but the time isn’t really what he means. “What can I do?”
He shifts until he’s laying with his head in your lap, shutting his eyes. “I just need to lay down for a bit, I think.”
“Okay,” you frown, scratching his scalp lightly. “We can just do this.”
He hums, curling closer to you. You have no idea how he fits on this couch, much less with his head in your lap, but he manages. He inhales, exhales.
“You smell good,” he says then. “Is that weird?”
You know what he’s referring to. “Kind of,” you say, though you do laugh.
He turns and noses further into you, the action causing heat to pool in your belly. “Can I?”
“Aaron
” you murmur, still stroking his head. “You’re exhausted.”
“But it calms me down,” he says through another exhale. 
“It calms you down?” you laugh. “I thought it did the opposite. Sometimes you go a little crazy.”
It’s true. One of your first nights together, somewhat early on in your relationship, Aaron went down on you first. The two of you didn’t even have sex that night, he simply just wanted to go down on you. You aren’t complaining; it was beyond anything you had ever experienced. And every time since has been equally mind-blowing and world-shattering. You’ve just never quite understood it. He says he loves it, he says it’s his favorite thing, but you’ve never dated anyone who enjoyed having their head between your legs as much as Aaron does.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, glancing up at you. “Can’t help it.”
“I didn’t say I hate it,” you soothe his worry, tugging on his hair just a little. “I like when you go down on me, trust me.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yeah, yeah,” you roll your eyes at his smug little smile, lightly tapping his cheek. “Seriously, babe, I enjoy it. I just feel like I don’t go down on you nearly as much, and it doesn’t feel fair.”
He turns onto his back, looking up at you. “It’s not fair? We’re not keeping score.”
You grimace. Shit. “Sorry. Old habits.”
Aaron sits up at that. “Seriously?”
You nod, turning toward him. “Yeah, my ex. We don’t need to get into it, it’s just--”
“Is that why you’ve been acting strange?”
You gawk at him then, still not used to dating a profiler. “Okay, I wouldn’t say I’ve been acting strange, but--”
He just gives you a pointed look.
“Fine. Maybe, yes, I was worrying about it a little.”
“Honey,” he murmurs, taking your hands. “We aren’t keeping a score, and even if we were, that wouldn’t be fair to you.”
You tilt your head, intrigued. “How so?”
He laughs quietly, a blush beginning to color his cheeks. “Because I’d happily go down on you every day, multiple times a day.”
Your jaw drops and you don’t even try to hide it. You thought that every other day (roughly, when he’s here) was a lot -- not in a bad way, just in a way you had never experienced before -- but every day? Multiple times?
“There is no way you want to do it that often,” you argue, shaking your head at him.
He just stares at you, raising his eyebrows in challenge. 
“Aaron,” you hiss. “Are you serious?”
“You have no idea how often I think about it,” he replies, deadly serious. Fire stokes in his eyes, growing hotter, hungrier the longer he looks at you.
“You should tell me,” you squeak out, already feeling yourself getting worked up just from his gaze. “Whenever you think about it.”
“Can I?” he asks. “And could I
?”
“Could you what?”
“Do it. When I tell you I’m thinking about it.”
“Could you eat me out every time you think about it?” you ask, just to be completely certain that you both understand the rules you’re putting up.
He nods slowly, licking his lips. “Please.”
Your skin has never felt this hot. “Okay,” you nod. “Only because you asked so nicely.”
He smiles, melting with your words -- which isn’t a difficult feat. “So, can I? Right now?”
“Babe, you’re tired,” you say, reaching for his hand. “Are you sure?”
“Please.”
“I don’t want you to feel obligated, seriously, you’re exhausted, you just got home,” you say. “We can start tomorrow.”
“Obligated,” he scoffs, palming your hips to lay you down. “It’s a privilege.”
You let yourself be guided by him, knowing there’s no fighting him when he’s like this -- not that you even want to. It’s been a week and you’ve missed him terribly. As much as it felt like a lot for him to be going down on you nearly every day, you’ve felt yourself starting to crave it just as much it seems he does. 
He settles between your legs with a low groan, tossing your shorts and panties who knows where, pulling you into his mouth by your hips. You cry out when he immediately goes for your clit, sucking in the way he knows you like. It doesn’t take long for you to climax at all, and you have to physically push his head away before he makes you pass out.
“Sorry,” he chuckles, licking you off of his lips. “Got carried away.”
“I can tell,” you gasp, still trying to catch your breath. 
He rests his head on your inner thigh, his fingers loosening their grip on you but still keeping you pinned. His eyelids droop.
You had never really noticed it before, but you do then. It does calm him down. Sure, he was tired when he walked in, but he was tense, he wasn’t this close to sleep. He wasn’t this calm.
You thread your fingers through his hair, smiling at him. “Let’s go to bed,” you whisper. “You need to sleep.”
He nods, pressing a quick kiss to your thigh. “Yes ma’am.”
+++
The very next day, it’s as if the floodgates have opened. You had no idea what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to this little game, and you certainly didn’t expect to be pinned to the kitchen counter at seven in the morning with Aaron’s hands hot and heavy and everywhere.
“Please,” he says in between bruising kisses. “Woke up thinking about it. Need you.”
“What about breakfast?” It’s a weak attempt to dissuade him, and of course, it doesn’t work.
“Just need you,” he repeats, grinding into your hip, and fuck, he’s hard already. Just from this. “Please, honey.”
“Okay,” you nod wildly, barely getting a word out with how hard he’s kissing you. Jesus Christ, your body is on fire, and you just woke up. “Yeah, go ahead.”
He’s on his knees within the second, and he doesn’t even pull your panties down, just hooks them to the side, and dives in. As if you’re his new dose of caffeine, as if you’re the air he needs.
Your knees buckle the second he tongues through your folds and he holds you up easily, smirking into you. He’s so pleased with himself and you both know it.
He isn’t even using his fingers and you’re close, his nose nudging your clit with just enough friction to have you gripping the counter with all your strength. He growls into you, something primal from deep in his chest, then a broken whine.
“Are you gonna cum?” The words are so muffled, you barely hear him. “Please.”
“Aaron,” you gasp, feeling as if you’re trying to climb onto the counter, somehow climb away from him, but you can’t. He won’t let you. He keeps you right where he wants you, right where he can suck on your clit, flicking his tongue, sending you right over the edge at a blinding pace.
He holds you up as your body shudders through it, through the fact that he just doesn’t stop, he keeps drinking you in, keeps inhaling you.
When he finally pulls back, he’s heaving, his lungs barely keeping up with his breaths. He tucks your panties back into place, thumbing over your clit through the fabric and you squeak, swatting him away. He kisses your thighs, your hips in such a happy daze. Meanwhile, you’re trying to figure out if you’re absolutely certain the earth’s axis hasn’t tilted ninety degrees.
He stands with a content sigh, kissing you much slower now, and you can taste yourself, and it’s maddening. 
“I’m gonna go shower real quick,” he says so casually. “Wanna stop for coffee before we head into work?”
You stare at him, shaking your head in disbelief. “Sure. Yeah. Let’s do that.”
“Okay,” he smiles, pressing another gentle kiss to your lips. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” you murmur, watching him walk down the hall.
You lean back against the counter and curse. You’re in for it now. And you have no idea just what you’re in for.
+++
It happened two more times the first day: once more when you got home from work and Aaron was on you the moment you walked in and had you right there against the door, and once again when you were getting ready for bed and watching you put on your pajamas -- panties and one of his old law school shirts -- was just simply too much for him.
The next day, you’re working from home, and you get a text about an hour after Aaron arrived at the office. Thinking about you.
Your heart picks up its pace almost instantly. You are ridiculous. He literally went down on you in the shower this morning. You had gotten in and he followed you without you realizing, until he quietly leaned against the sink asking you if he could join.
Want to come here for lunch? I only have 30 mins today, lots of meetings.
If you know your boyfriend well, then you know exactly what he’s implying. He doesn’t have enough time to come back here for lunch and have you here, so he wants you to come to the BAU for lunch so he can have you in his office.
Aaron.
Most of the team took half days. And then: Please.
Good lord, he’s going to send you to an early grave. Ok, be there at 12. Your usual?
Just you.
You roll your eyes. You’re bringing him food because he will be eating lunch, no matter how much he wants to only eat you.
When you arrive at the BAU, you see Aaron was telling the truth. Rossi’s door is closed with the lights off, Spencer’s desk has clearly been used but he’s gone, Morgan’s likely with Garcia, and Prentiss has also clearly taken off early. 
However, that doesn’t mean no one is here. The interns and general admin assistants are still very much walking around. And will absolutely hear you.
Aaron is opening the door to his office before you even reach the landing, and he looks
a wreck. 
You raise your eyebrows at him in question but also concern. He said he had meetings, but you didn’t anticipate him looking this stressed. 
He gives you a quick kiss and helps you inside, shutting the door. You set lunch down on his desk and gather him into your arms for a hug, listening to him sigh and feeling him relax.
You eat lunch in silence. He doesn’t even protest the food. It’s a stark contrast from his text messages, the demeanor entirely different, and he won’t stop stealing glances at you -- and then looking away when you catch him, like he’s doing something he shouldn’t be. 
Once the food is finished and you’re satisfied with him having an actual meal in his stomach, you turn the profiling on him. 
“You’re restraining yourself.”
He coughs. “What?”
You answer while he guzzles water like his life depends on it. “You told me you were thinking about me, wanted me to come here, and now that I’m here, you’re holding back.”
“Well, yes, because we’re in my office--”
“Aaron, you told me to come here.”
“I know, but--”
“Stop being like this,” you scold softly. “Ask for what you want.”
You watch his throat work as he swallows, his pupils dilating the longer he stares at you. His tongue darts out and wets his lips. 
You raise an eyebrow. “What do you want, Aaron?”
“I want you to fuck my mouth,” he blurts. “I want to taste you, but I need--” He cuts himself off, but you know. You know. 
He’s been like this a couple of times before with you. It’s rare, but you should’ve seen it coming, after such a long, hard case and now a day full of bureaucratic bullshit. He can handle it, of course he can, he’s the Unit Chief, but it wears on him. Sometimes he needs direction. Sometimes he needs you. 
“Does your door have a lock on it?” 
He nods.
“Go lock the door.”
He stands and takes two long strides, locking the door and checking to make sure the blinds are fully drawn. He turns to look at you for direction, his feet still firmly planted at the door. 
You smile, extending a hand to him. “Come here.”
He comes easily, taking your hand and letting him be guided to the couch. You bring him in for a kiss, tangling your fingers in his hair. 
“How do you want me?” you ask, and when he makes a noise of protest, of please don’t make me make another decision, you shake your head. “None of that. You were thinking about me, about doing this. Tell me what you were thinking about.”
He whimpers into the next kiss. “You were-- I was on my knees and had you on my desk--”
You stand and walk over to his desk, looking at the various files and papers. “Did you clear the desk off?”
“I can.”
You just give him a look. It’s all he needs. 
The desk is cleared soon after, the files stacked and set on the floor, his cup of pens and various other things set onto the bookcase behind you. 
“I don’t know if you’ll be comfortable--”
“I don’t know why you’re still standing,” you interrupt. “Didn’t you say you were on your knees?”
He stutters, “Yes, but first I put you on the desk.”
“Oh, you did?” you tease, allowing the slight brattiness in his tone to slide by for now. “Alright then. Go ahead--!” Your words trail off into a squeak when you’re suddenly manhandled and placed on the desk, and Aaron is crowding in between your legs, kissing up your neck, his hands gripping your hips so tight you might bruise.
“And then I--” he breathes shakily in your ear, sending chills down your spine. “I ask if you’ll let me taste you.”
“Only if you ask nicely,” you gasp when he grinds into you, his erection barely constrained by his pants. “And if you-- fuck-- if you tell me why you need to.”
He whines, low in the back of his throat. “Please, honey, don’t make me--”
“Aaron,” you pull him up by the back of his neck, applying just enough pressure at his throat so he knows you’re being serious and so he knows who is in charge here.
His eyes are nearly glazed over, but he’s there, he’s hungry, he wants you to stop dragging this out just as much as he needs you to continue. You raise one eyebrow.
“Please,” he whispers, voice breaking and eyes shutting. “Please, honey, I need to, it’s been back-to-back meetings this morning and I didn’t want to leave you this morning and I just need to taste you again and make you cum again, please.”
“Okay, okay,” you coo, cupping his cheeks and pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Go ahead.”
He surges forward and kisses your lips, crying, “Thank you.”
He kneels before you as if he has you laid out on the altar, carefully dragging your pants down your hips, tossing them onto the couch. He takes your panties next, putting them in his pocket, and you let it slide because you can’t help it, not when he’s like this.
He opens you up slowly this time, gently tonguing at your clit and darting in between your folds. He’s waiting for something, and it isn’t until you grind forward into his mouth that you realize what it is.
“Wrap your arms around me,” you instruct, smiling when you feel him instantly stabilize you with his hands on your hips, tossing your legs over his shoulders. “Good boy.” You rock into his mouth to test him, and when he groans, you know he’s ready.
You chase your pleasure then, using his mouth in a way that is equally sinister and sweet, and he takes it, every bit of it, without hesitation.
It isn’t long before your orgasm is approaching, and Aaron only seems to grow hungrier, pulling you in just as much as you’re pushing his face into you. He starts babbling nonsense into your core, and you understand none of it, but you don’t need to.
You’re covering your mouth when you cry out, just as the phone on his desk starts to ring. It sends a shock through you like a bucket of ice water has been dumped over your head, but Aaron doesn’t stop. He shoves the phone off his desk, and it unplugs itself as it clatters to the floor, but he doesn’t stop. You’re not sure if it’s a second wave of the first orgasm, or a second orgasm altogether when you feel yourself reaching that peak once again, fingers tightening in his hair, grinding into his mouth.
When he finally, finally comes up for air, he has a dazed look in his eyes, and his face is soaked. 
“Feel better?” you say through heaving breaths, cutting yourself off with a laugh.
He just nods and hums happily, pressing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Much better.”
+++
By the fourth day, the team is beginning to wonder if aliens replaced their Unit Chief with someone else entirely. 
“He is never late, not even by five minutes. Something is going on,” Emily hisses, smacking Morgan’s shoulder lightly when said topic of their conversation breezes through the glass doors looking as happy and relaxed as ever -- and exactly seven minutes late.
“Prentiss, I think you’re being overdramatic,” Morgan chuckles. “He’s got himself a woman now, that’s why he’s so happy.”
“No, I know that, I mean how relaxed he’s been. Isn’t it weird?”
“It’s true,” Reid pipes up from the depths of his book. “He’s been way less tense this past week.”
“Guys, we haven’t been on a case, of course he’s not tense,” Morgan argues. “Aren’t you guys feeling better sleeping in your own beds?”
“Absolutely,” JJ answers as she flies in with a handful of folders. When she spots everyone’s alarmed looks, she adds, “These are just for Hotch, they’re not cases. Those are looming on the corner of my desk.”
She whirls up the stairs to knock on Hotch’s office door, and everyone watches with dropped jaws as Hotch accepts the mountain of paperwork with a smile.
“Okay
” Morgan tilts his head. “Maybe I’m convinced.”
Prentiss scoffs. “Typical.”
JJ slowly comes down the stairs, her eyebrows furrowed. She pauses in the small huddle Prentiss and Morgan have formed. “Is he
?”
“Yep,” Emily nods.
“Huh,” JJ shakes her head. “Must be love.”
“I mean, yeah, but
”
“Or drugs,” Reid says without missing a beat. When everyone’s heads turn toward him in alarm, he returns the expression. “What! I can joke about it!”
“Sure, kid,” Morgan laughs. “Anyway, I’m not complaining about him being less of a drill sergeant, I’m just--” He waves his hand.
“Weirded out,” Prentiss finishes.
“It is a little off putting, isn’t it?” JJ adds.
“What’s off putting?” Rossi scares the shit out of everyone when he joins the circle, coffee in hand like always. “What are you gossiping about?”
“Nothing” comes the defensive reply, which is clearly the least convincing answer that any one of the team could’ve given him.
“Hotch is
” Prentiss starts, then looks to Morgan for help, and of course, Morgan offers none.
Rossi chuckles into his coffee. “I think we should all be grateful that he is finally dating someone who convinces him to sleep in and come to work at a reasonable hour.”
Everyone agrees, and when they glance back up at Hotch’s office, he is wearing his usual stern expression again. The team isn’t sure whether they’re glad to see it or not.
+++
Hotch leaves for a case that lasts four days too long (you feel the need to clarify that he was gone for a total of four days), and when he returns, he absolutely cannot keep his hands off of you.
“We have to make up for all of the times I thought about you,” he declares into your neck while his hands have a mind of their own, traveling up your shirt and rolling your nipples between the pads of his fingers. The two of you barely make it to the couch, and fuck, he still has his damn suit on.
“Aaron, that’s like--” you gasp, arching into him. “--you texted me a million times.”
“And?” he fires back, nipping at your ear. “I wanted you there with me.”
“You were working!”
“I don’t care,” he whispers, going for your lips, claiming you, inhaling you. “It was torture.”
You laugh against his mouth. “You’re so dramatic-- Aaron!”
Somehow in the midst of your bickering, his hand found its way into your pants, and his fingers parted your folds mid-sentence.
He moans into your neck, “Missed you.”
You nod frantically against him. “Missed you too.”
He kisses you hard then, like he’s forgotten how to operate his own body after so long (four days, you remember) without yours.
He snakes himself down the couch until he’s at your core, dragging your pants down your legs as he goes. He buries his face in you, his nose nudging your clit with delicious friction through your panties. He’s inhaling like a man starved, like he hasn’t breathed properly in four days because he hasn’t been here, mouthing at your clit.
He takes you apart for what feels like hours, and when you think you’re done, when you’re almost ready to tap out, he starts up once more.
“Aaron,” you whine. This will be orgasm number
five, you think, if he manages to make you climax again -- not that you’re doubting him, but you are beginning to wonder just how many orgasms you can have in one night.
“I know, honey,” he murmurs, words muffled because he just won’t leave your pussy. His arms tighten their hold around your hips, adjusting your legs higher on his shoulders. “Please, honey, just one more.”
“You’ve said one more three times already,” you groan, but despite your protests, your fingers remain firmly tangled in his hair, your palms steering his head where you need him most, and you arch into him, grinding your core into his open and eager mouth.
“One more,” he repeats. “You can take it, honey, I know you can.”
The drag of his tongue over your clit is so good that it hurts, and there might be tears falling from the corners of your eyes, you don’t know. You just know that he’s ruining you -- he has ruined you -- and that you’re going to sleep for twelve hours after this.
+++
To celebrate ending yet another case -- and really just a poor excuse for team bonding in the form of drinks -- the team has decided to go out to a bar for the night, which means you’re invited.
And you’re thrilled.
You’ve never actually gotten to hang out with the team in full like this before. You’ve met them in passing, of course, as you visit the office, and once when Rossi had you and Aaron over for dinner, Derek and Penelope were able to make it, but this is everyone.
Miraculously, you make it out of Aaron’s apartment on time -- either one or both of you have been late to almost everything these days with this little game -- and you’re one of the first at the bar. Morgan is already nursing a drink and chatting up the bartender when you arrive, interrupting his flirting. Hotch grabs the bartender’s attention instead, asking about what booths aren’t reserved and also putting in drink orders.
Derek grins wide when he sees you, pulling you in for a hug. “I hear we have you to thank for how happy boss man has been.”
You hide your shock well, but Aaron sees the slight alarm in your eyes when you flick your gaze toward him for a moment. “Why do you say that?” you ask through a laugh.
Derek then explains how Hotch has been almost an entirely different person at work, relaxed, carefree, smiling. “You’re good for him,” Morgan says then, deadly serious. “I mean it.”
It’s sincere, you know it is, but you can’t help but stifle a laugh because he just has no idea.
Aaron returns to your side, his arm slipping comfortably around your waist, tugging you toward him. “What are we talking about?”
“You,” you smile, stretching up for a kiss. “Did you get my favorite?”
“Of course I did,” he goes for another kiss, then turns to Derek. “How was your day off?”
The time passes easily with Derek talking about the new renovations he’s doing on one of his properties. Your drink arrives and you sip while you listen, feeling yourself leaning into Aaron’s broad chest.
Soon Penelope arrives with JJ and Emily in tow, and the girls steal you away, crowding into the booth Aaron got for you. Rossi comes in later, Reid not far behind, though Reid comes to join you with the girls while Morgan continues to fail at flirting with the bartender. Eventually, Aaron comes to sit beside you on the edge of the booth, his hand easily slipping into yours underneath the table.
It’s wonderful. It’s a night full of warm laughter, drinks, and many embarrassing stories about Aaron at work. Most notably, the time he came into the office with your number on his coffee cup.
“He thought none of us noticed,” Morgan snickers.
“I probably wouldn’t have thought anything of it if he wasn’t holding it so protectively,” Prentiss adds. “You’d think he had state secrets hiding in his coffee.”
“I knew way before any of you did,” Reid declares with a bit of pride in his boyish little smile.
“How could you possibly have known?” Hotch asks, but he’s smiling. He’s been smiling through every story.
Reid shrugs. “You never went out for coffee before.”
This catapults everyone into the story about the time Morgan got called out for trashing his coffee just to get back in line to talk to a girl, and by the end of it you’re clinging to Aaron with tears in your eyes from laughing so hard.
The music in the bar grows louder as the evening hours tick onward, and soon the lights are dimming and the dance floor is opening up. You’ve got just enough of a buzz in your veins that when Pen squeals, “This is my song!” you follow her to the dancefloor with no hesitation.
Morgan isn’t far behind, grinning wide when Pen pulls him into her. You manage to convince JJ and Emily to join you, which doesn’t take much convincing at all, and soon the girls are all flocking to Reid, dragging him along, too. 
Rossi watches on from the booth with a smirk, occasionally leaning over to say something to Hotch. When your eyes meet Aaron’s, your breath hitches.
He has that look in his eyes again. The look, the specific look that always gets you two in trouble these days. And fuck, you don’t help yourself at all, because you raise one eyebrow at him, smirking, challenging. Practically egging him on. Oh, really? Here? You know he can hear your thoughts with only a glance. 
He downs the rest of his whiskey, his eyes never leaving yours. Absolutely. Here.
He stalks over to you, arms outstretched. You pull him in, wanting to have a little fun first. You never get him on a dance floor like this, so you’re not about to waste the opportunity.
You spin yourself around in his arms, pressing your back to him, preening into the kiss that he leans down to press to your cheek. His hands rest on your hips for a moment before wrapping around you, resting on your stomach.
His lips travel to your ear. “You’re making me hard.”
Thank God for the music blasting as loud as it is because you cannot imagine anyone else hearing this. You turn your head to whisper into his ear, “Oh, am I?” As if you can’t feel him, as if that wasn’t your intention when you pulled him into you.
You feel him smirk against your skin. He turns his head again and claims your lips, but still restrains himself. For now.
“Either we need to leave,” he starts, pausing to nip discreetly at your earlobe, “or we need to excuse ourselves to the bathroom before I drop to my knees right here.”
You gasp, turning to look at him in shock. Obviously, you could tell he was getting hot and bothered, but you didn’t think he was serious about doing it now. Spinning around in his arms, you cup his face and pull his lips down, leaving him on the dance floor with a wink.
You disappear through the bar to the bathroom, and Aaron probably should’ve waited longer than he did before following you, but he can’t take it anymore. 
The good thing about this bar is that the bathrooms are one seat only, so the door locks, and the two of you have the room to yourself.
“You’re insane,” you giggle, wrapping your arms around his neck and dragging him in.
His lips are on yours immediately, and he is ravenous. He tastes like whiskey and it’s the hottest thing, especially when he’s licking into your mouth, pulling moans from your chest with precision.
“Is this okay?” he asks in between kisses. “Can I have you?”
“Seriously?” you breathe into him. “You want to? Here?”
He nods into the next kiss, open-mouthed, a groan low in his throat. “I do.”
“Fuck,” you laugh. “I’m not complaining, I just--”
He lifts you onto the counter and kneels down, tossing your legs over his shoulders and pulling your hips to him. When he lifts your skirt, he freezes. Grins.
“You were dancing like that on purpose,” he clicks his tongue. “Naughty.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about-- Aaron!”
Mid-sentence, as he so loves to do, he’s latched onto you and started devouring you. He’s mumbling against your core, some nonsense about you wearing no panties on purpose -- and okay, maybe he’s got you there -- and grinding into him on the dance floor just to spite him.
When you try to lift your hips into his mouth, he pins you in place, looking up at you sternly. Your head falls back against the mirror, and he seizes the moment to dive back in, fucking you with his tongue this time. 
You try to keep still, you really do, but it’s impossible when he does this, when his fingers bruise your hips and he growls into you like he can’t get enough, like he’ll never get enough of you, for as long as he lives.
“Aaron,” you whine. “Please.”
He just smirks into your core, the motherfucker, and tongues your clit lazily, keeping you right on the edge of bliss, but not quite throwing you over. Not yet.
When he works a finger inside of you, you’re practically flailing on the counter, and if it weren’t for his grip, you might fall off. One finger becomes two, and then he’s curling them, hooking them just right, and your body lights on fire.
You’re cumming before you even realize it, but he knows it, and he sucks on your clit at just the right moment so another wave crests. You’re writing in his arms, useless against his mouth as he holds you where he wants you, riding out your orgasm until you’re whimpering.
Finally, he relents, standing up and pushing between your legs, cupping your jaw to kiss you hard.
You’re breathless into every kiss, despite each one being slower and sweeter now. 
He pulls away, thumb stroking your cheek. “My sweet girl.”
Your eyes roll again, a laugh slipping from your chest. “Don’t start.”
“You started it,” he chuckles, one hand slipping under your skirt again, settling on your hips. “No panties? Seriously?”
“I didn’t feel like wearing any,” you smirk.
“Right,” he says, capturing your lips again. He presses one to your nose, then your cheeks, then your forehead, until you’re giggling. “How much longer do you want to stay?”
You shake your head through a laugh. “A couple more songs, but not long,” you murmur against his lips. “I’ve created a monster.”
He shrugs through a grin. “I’m not complaining.”
+++
After many attempts to schedule a dinner at Rossi’s house with the entire team, one finally succeeds. Everyone is free, no surprise case pops up, and you’re ecstatic. You love any excuse to dress up and drink wine and eat pasta -- homemade pasta, at that.
You’re just finishing getting ready in the bathroom, dabbing the last touch ups of makeup under your eyes, when Aaron joins you, leaning against the doorframe to watch you in the mirror.
You think nothing of it at first. He loves to watch you get ready on any normal day. But when you catch his eyes in the mirror, your hands falter.
You glance at your phone on the counter, and then back up at him. “Aaron. We have to leave in ten minutes.”
He just stares at you, his irises molten as they bore into your skin, pinning you in place. 
“We’ll be late,” you scold, watching him come closer to you, hands reaching out for you. “Aaron.”
“Honey,” he mimics your tone with a smirk. “Just five minutes.”
You’re already pressing your thighs together just at the thought of it, and because this game the two of you have been playing has made you into a monster just as much as it has him. 
“One round,” you give him your best I-mean-business look, but he just smirks at you. “Or we’ll be late.”
“It’s just dinner with Dave,” Aaron says, pressing a kiss to your lips. “We’ll be fine.”
You expect him to kneel down and take you right there, but he doesn’t. He pulls you into the bedroom and lays you out for him, as if laying out a feast fit for a king. When he places a pillow under your hips, you know you’re fucked. 
But you don’t care. Suddenly, being late doesn’t matter all that much, not when you’ve got Aaron’s head between your legs.
He’s murmuring sweet nothings into you, about how gorgeous you are, how he won’t be able to last at dinner with you in this dress, and you’re melting into the mattress with every word, every touch, every drag of his tongue.
One round, unsurprisingly, turns into two, that unsurprisingly, ends with him inside of you.
Somehow, you’re only half an hour late to the dinner, but you are the last ones to arrive, which is, without a doubt, suspicious.
“There’s the lovebirds,” Dave smirks when you both walk in. 
“Sorry we’re so late,” you chuckle, sheepish.
“Traffic,” Aaron explains, which is just about as obvious of a lie as any. It doesn’t help that he says it with a smile that is not apologetic in the slightest.
You know you aren’t hiding it well either, but Aaron is zero help with his smug little smile, looking every bit the role of that cat that caught the fucking canary. Not to mention, the glances he keeps sending your way as if he didn’t just fuck you right before this.
You make it through dinner before you excuse yourself down the hall to the bathroom, hoping but not necessarily expecting Aaron to follow you. But he does, of course he does.
If it wasn’t obvious before, it sure becomes obvious then, and Rossi just smirks as Derek passes Emily a twenty.
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 26 days ago
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 28 days ago
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 29 days ago
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Sirius can keep quiet about his relationship with Severus, but he definitely can't hold back when they first have sex. He doesn't even think twice before saying that he's in a relationship with Severus and that they're "on a new level" because it's his love, while James is still trying to persuade Lily to go on a date. Sirius talks about the whole day, the date, what they ate, what they talked about, he leaves out the intimate details, but he seems to be on cloud nine.
Severus simply crosses the common room to sit next to Regulus.
"I'm sleeping with your brother," a fact that Regulus will have to accept.
"Did he infect you with something? Rabies? Then you better stay away from me, give me some space so I can run away when you start biting," Regulus grumbles.
"No, I'm just saying so you don't whine and cry later that I don't tell you anything."
"I wouldn't, it's scary to hear such information," Regulus straightens his shoulders.
"Nothing more to say?" Severus expected a staged performance about the betrayal of the entire Slytherin house.
"My condolences."
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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Okay... I wrote another one! 18k ish E rated fanfic. POV Mr Sirius Black and his *very casual* feelings for Severus Snape 🌟💞
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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by @mcnn0000
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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Avengers: Endgame (2019) dir. Anthony Russo, Joe Russo
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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"Mr. Rogers I almost forgot, that suit did nothing for your ass"
"No one asked you to look Tony."
This is a thousand percent the type of conversation old divorced couples have. They've gotten over the hatred and bitterness and now they're just here to annoy each other out of pure love for the game
Ten years earlier Tony was squeezing that ass mid-makeout session and stopped just to say "this suit does nothing for your ass, I'll fix that" and Steve laughed into his lips before shutting him up with more kisses
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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⭐
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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QUICK! the stony fandom is dying! REBLOG if you're a true #stoner!
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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Run, Granger. I'll give you a head start.
Late night in the shadows When the daylight comes, remember You can't hide, you canâ€Čt run.
Don't make any changes. Ask permission when using
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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Who's on your side?
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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‱ God some people piss me off ‱ stop turning grown characters into child-like comical representations so here we have, of course beginning with Demon Slayer ,
Sanemi has anger issues and is a violent person generally , but he has come to UNDERSTAND the rank of Hashiras and the Master and that he cannot order them around / insult them as he pleases.
Giyuu is NOT an awkward shy boy, he s a Hashira that commands the other demon slayers and they listen to him. Him and the other Hashira also understand and acknowledge each other's authority over the Corps.
Giyuu and Sanemi dislike each other clearly, but can and will cooperate on missions and in battles , and other important matters that Hashiras handle. They re not children who had a fight in kindergarden and now avoid each other.
Muichiro is generally out of focus and kind of lost, but he does concentrate in battles and missions and he prioritizes his tasks right. He won't get distracted by clouds mid-fight.
Tengen does use his charm and good looks for his advantage when the situation calls for it. He does NOT flirt with every woman he sees or whine about missions or getting injured and having scars. He does NOT pop out stupid jokes and remarks every chance he gets.
Shinobu is respectful to all Hashiras and treats them personally when they need it, if she is in the Butterfly Mansion. She does NOT insult them or get passive-aggressive out of nowhere. She only teases Giyuu to get close to him, not to disrespect him.
Douma and Akaza will always hate each other. Douma does NOT consider Akaza a friend. He s a psycho who's appearance is a total opposite from his intentions and desires. He does NOT get sad after violent encounters with him, but more so, uses them as bait to disrespect Akaza even more.
I hate mischaracterization more than anything guys as you can see
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wolvesandfoxes25 · 1 month ago
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Dickon
As the Stars Have Decreed 1k
In the aftermath of Daenerys’ siege on the Lannister army, Winterfell offered the Tarly's sanctuary while Daenerys and Cersei waged their war, but Jon had never anticipated, never fathomed that in doing so he would have to watch as Dickon Tarly made eyes at Sansa. It burned the blood in his veins.
burn me like a wildfire (kiss me like a bruise) 1k
Looking up at him as he was thrusting into her, she couldn’t resist licking the sweat dotting the sharp curve of his jaw. He chuckled and looked at her, eyes dark as thunderstorms and promising as sin, and shifted his hips slightly. Oh fuck - she thought, and then could think no more.
Gifset: where jon meets someone brave gentle and stronger and immediately needs to fight him by @cindy-clawford
Jaime
What Once Was Sweet 5k by @justadram
Before they wed, things were sweet between Jon and Sansa.
Jealousies ficlet @justadram
Jon never liked Sansa’s choice of a Lord Commander and the feeling increased with every quarterly visit he made to Winterfell.
Words (series, 9k) @justadram
The words hang there in the air, thick with steam, exposing Jon’s heart for judgment.
You Don't Get Her, Kinglsayer 11k by @kittykatknits
From the tumblr prompt: jaime rides to winterfell and bends the knee to sansa and becomes an honorable advisor, Jon is very jealous.
are you hurting the one you love? series, 2k
Of course he doesn’t want Jaime Lannister around her. Sansa shouldn’t have to be around a single person who was responsible for her years in captivity, who pushed Bran out of a window for the gods sake. No if he was honest there’s more than just his rational side that wants Jaime Lannister no where near Sansa, his Sansa.
Willas
Kiss the Dusk 1k
Margaery asked what a man who’d once dedicated his life to celibacy could know of pleasing a woman. Sansa wanted to ask her what a maid could know of pleasure.
Robin
All I ever wanted and all I feel I cannot have ficlet by
“Are you insulting my cousin?”“Your cousin or your husband?” he asked, whirling around to face her properly.It shouldn’t bother him. It wasn’t any of his business who she was making stockings for, who would see her wearing them, who would get to peel them off and replace them with soft kisses.“You think I’m going to marry Robin?” Sansa retorted with a disbelieving laugh.He tilted his head towards the stockings. “Are they for someone else then?”
General
Let Them Lay Swords at Your Feet (I Just Want to Put My Sword in Your Sheath) 12k by @vivilove-jonsa
A completely satiric look at Jealous!Jon at Winterfell when he returns from his mission to gain a powerful ally and dragons.Jon Snow didn't expect things to go swimmingly with the Northern lords or his family when he returned North after having bent the knee. He was prepared for that. He'd do anything to keep them safe even if it had meant a thousand walks of shame through the streets of Kings Landing. However, what he wasn't prepared for was facing his feelings of extreme jealously when he returns to his fair sister again...and finds a lot of guys lining up to swear themselves to her service.
The Mad King 1k by @zarahjoyce
"They say only few things cause the King of the North to lose his head, and when he does it can be quite a spectacle.One of those things, they whisper, is when they concern the Lady of Winterfell."aka Sansa gets a lot of marriage offers and Jon... doesn't take it quite well.
Stay With Me ficlet
"Or perhaps," Tyrion drawled, leaning back in his chair. "Instead of running away from your feelings, you and Jon could just marry and sort the tension out the good old, naked way.""What?" Sansa squeaked, the letter falling out of her grasp and drifting to the floor."He needs a Queen," Tyrion stated simply. "As Lady of Winterfell, you can combine Winterfell's needs with the North's, a united front.""You're forgetting the most important part," Sansa scoffed. "He would have to want to marry me."Tyrion laughed, the sound echoing loudly around the room, startling Sansa in its ferocity. "Oh my dear, I don't think you need to worry about that."
Belong 1k by @amymel86
Sansa knows how to push Jon's buttons to get him how she likes him - possessive.
It Drives You Mad With Jealousy 1k
Jon hates when all men look at Sansa, especially Littlefinger.
Jon Snow Being Stupid Jealous ficlet by @graceverse
And don’t even get him started with Sandor Bloody Fucking Clegane.
And So He Waited 3k by @graceverse
Jon angrily stormed off from another council, where he had sat as an equal to the Dragon Queen but was so effectively ignored by Sansa Stark, Lady of Winterfell and Warden of the North. No matter how hard he had stared at her, willing her too look at him, she remained regally stoic, not once acknowledging his presence. When the meeting was over, she stood up, statuesque and queenly in her dark furs, her pale solemn face sweeping across the room, nodding at Northern Lords before quietly walking away, sparing not even the slightest, smallest glance at his direction.This will end.Jon wasn’t going to let Sansa ignore him for another minute. He cannot endure it. Not anymore.
Simple but Smart/Complicated but Stupid. 4k
To the prompt: A Jon x Sansa prompt in spirit of a subject we've discussed in the past: Sansa and Gendry have a great amount of respect towards each other's craftsmanship and an understanding of the hard work behind it, the respect of an artisan towards an other. Arya is annoyed; Jon is jealous. You get chocolat chips cookies if he get to discuss it with someone else before the obligatory smut ;o)Basically, this ended up becoming a smut fest. Arya and Gendry. And Jon and Sansa.Gendry and Sansa start collaborating on Arya's name day present and spending time together. Jon act irrationally jealous and kind of douchey. His sister is just sick of this shit and wants her lover to bang her brains out so she doesn't have to think about her idiot brother. Sansa is observant and wants to remind Jon that he's the man she wants.
Jealousy, Thy name is Jon 6k by @asongforjonsa
Jon and Daenerys arrive at Winterfell. Sansa makes a new friend.
Ghost, the greatest wingman ficlet by @captainbee89
“Bloody roses,” Jon muttered breathlessly as he pulled the harp along the corridor.“Your Grace, I can help!” Brienne called, alarmed at his intention to pull the damn heavy thing himself.“No!” Jon barked, wincing at the less than convincing pant that followed his command. “No need Brienne. I shall deliver this to Lady Sansa myself.”Brienne’s lips twitched before she bowed her head respectively and left him to carry on down the hall to Sansa’s rooms.
Rumor has it 2k by @captainbee89
Jon overhears Sansa discussing Pod's
talents
and thinks there is something going on between them.
But I'm a man who needs hope 3k by @captainbee89
Sansa’s throne however, was a different concern. Bran had removed himself from the line of succession and claimed he would never marry or father children. Rickon had become too wild and they had allowed him to remain in Skagos with Osha. The fate of House Stark rested upon Sansa and Arya. And now that the White Walkers were defeated and peace was upon them, the Lords were rightly concerned about the future and the continuity of peace. Without an heir, chaos could easily rise up once more with distant relatives all vying for a claim of Winterfell and the North.Jon understood why Sansa was inviting Lords to Winterfell, the logical part of him agreed that securing a marriage and producing heirs was needed in order to stop panic and to stop any possibility of yet another war over the succession.He understood it but he didn’t have to like it.
Fights and Flames 3k by @castaliareed
Jon is jealous and wants to speak with Sansa about it. Their talk takes an unexpected turn when she begs him not to do anything stupid.
always loved a queen 27k by @jade-masquerade
When he catches word Sansa is set to entertain a certain Daario Naharis, styling himself as the “Prince of Meereen,” in Winterfell, Jon finally decides to return from beyond the Wall.
You Are All I Need 2k by @kittensjonsa
Sansa and Jon are K&QITN and are expecting their first child. Sansa is looking incredibly beautiful and gorgeous making everyone take notice and Jon isn’t too comfortable with that.
needle and fabric 1k
“You're jealous, Jon Snow!”No one has called him that in years and the way her eyes widen makes him think of a little girl, long locks of auburn hair chasing her brothers through the halls, before it was improper and unladylike.
Not on my watch 1k
His watch has just begun, Jon will not let this Northern man get close to Sansa at the Winterfell Feast.
Art: Kill Bill Sirens by wolvesofspring
Gifsets: Jealous of Aegon by deactivated - I'm not jealous by @cindy-clawford - She's got a type... by @cindy-clawford - Davos is too old for this shit by @cindy-clawford - your inner cesare borgia is showing by @dcbicki - Jon and Sansa Jealousy by @kitnjon - Jon and Sansa Jealous by @jonstarks - Jealous Jon parallels s3&7 by @jonstarks - Jealousy about Joffrey by @thewindsofwolves - Angry kitten Jon... by @melissa-blogs
BONUS: Video compilation of Jon being totally normal about men mentioning Sansa
PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALE - REGENCY - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON SIX - ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON - RICKON LIVES - JON X ALAYNE - EDWARDIAN - VICTORIAN - OUTSIDER POV - FIGURE SKATING
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