#miracle together it all goes a bit too well’

[seriesfive]

also i need more deets on the fact that when crowley and aziraphale try to collaborate on even the teeniest tinest miracle together they perform a miracle of intense magnitude that ‘only the mightiest of archangels could’ve performed’ like hi hello??

#like i thought at first that gabriel had contributed but that’s never confirmed and then in ep six crowley says ‘apparently when we perform #miracle together it all goes a bit too well’ #i would like to see more of it please #good omens #j

[mediacircuspod]

Okay so I know that we’re all upset at Aziraphale for this because of very obvious reasons. But can we take a minute to really look at where exactly he’s coming from? Because we only have Crowley’s perspective on the fall because we’ve only ever seen Crowley talk about it before. At least in his vague but colorful ways. Ex; Sauntering vaguely downwards, boiling pool of sulfur, etc.

But this season we get a little bit more on what Aziraphale thinks about Crowley becoming a demon.

And well. Aziraphale thinks that it was a mistake. More below the cut…

Full stop. Aziraphale thinks heaven was wrong about Crowley. He thinks God was wrong about Crowley. We see this in a few key scenes in both Seasons.

Let’s go Chronologically.

Job. Because I’ll never stop talking about the Job minisode. When Aziraphale’s caution is ignored in heaven, he goes to convince Crowley to stop and ignore the will of Heaven and Hell. (He doesn’t take into account that if Crowley doesn’t do the killing, another entity undoubtedly will.)

It’s the “I know you” and “I know [who] you were.” It’s the “I don’t think you want to do this.”

He had faith, even then, that Crowley would do what was right.

It’s the absolute and joyful giddiness of finding out that he’s right. That Crowley saved the goats, and probably the other creatures. That Crowley is going in that very beautiful house in order to save the children.

It’s the tragedy of Jemimah asking if Crowley is a demon and Aziraphale answering “Technically”. Crowley answers too, and he knows that there’s nothing technical about his state of being.

It’s the “you’re a little bit on our side”. And for all that Crowley denies, denies, and denies—Aziraphale doesn’t actually hear him. He hears “Yes. But I’m not an angel though, am I?” Aziraphale interprets, “I’m on my side” as “I’m not permitted to be on heaven’s side”.

In Rome, he extends Crowley an invitation to eat with him. He forgets himself. Tempting is Crowley’s job. He has to remind himself that Crowley is a demon, even if he’s a good person.

When they meet to watch one of Shakespeare’s gloomy ones, he looks to Crowley to do him a favor, and Crowley does. Without fuss. Just to see Aziraphale happy. Aziraphale smiles at this with familiar excitement. And a knowing look. (I want to shake him and screech, “Being good is not the same as being Good”)

Scotland. Crowley does a very good thing in this minisode, and he faces a very serious punishment for doing that good thing. Aziraphale can do nothing because Crowley is a demon who is good. And that is not a virtue in Hell, and the angel is confronted with the fact that Hell is not safe for Crowley. That hell will never be safe for Crowley, and we begin to see Aziraphale seriously worry about the arrangement and what it could mean for Crowley from this moment on.

And then we see a lot of Crowley saving Aziraphale from various scrapes and bad situations. We see Aziraphale refusing to give Crowley access to dangerous materials and then giving in so he doesn’t fall into more danger.

Aziraphale not only wants Crowley safe, he wants Crowley saved.

And at the end of season 1 and the majority of Season 2, Aziraphale embraces who he and Crowley are together. And he’s genuinely joyful about it, even with an undercurrent of sorrow he feels from being disconnected from heaven. We get hints of this throughout the second season… “You need to tell someone about something clever you did before you pop” “I can’t report to heaven anymore” “I’m afraid I’m out of miracles right now”.

This is the whole point; he never stops wanting to be good. And he never stops believing in Crowley’s goodness, either. Maybe even more than his own. (Aziraphale has to convince himself of his own righteousness almost as much as he has had to convince himself of Crowley’s evilness.)

And this brings us back to THE SCENE. Because right before Aziraphale makes his offer to Crowley. The Metatron has to make the offer to Aziraphale. And The Metatron plays Aziraphale like a fiddle.

The Metatron plays his cards exactly as he should right from the beginning, with ordering Aziraphale a coffee and making him drink it. It’s a subtextual threat, and Aziraphale probably doesn’t realize it, but Nina’s coffee shop is called “Give me coffee or give me death”. The coffee doubles as a gift from the Metatron to endear himself to Aziraphale and also as a signal to the audience that this guy is a very big deal, as well as a very big threat.

And then the Metatron separates our two entities from one another. Crowley has always given Aziraphale more courage when it comes to defiance, so Metatron invites Aziraphale away from the safety of his home(both the bookshop AND Crowley).

And then. And this is the Kicker.

The Metatron apologizes.

Not in the usual way humans do, but in the way that Crowley and Aziraphale do. By saying, I was wrong. You were right.

The Metatron praises Aziraphale. We were wrong about you.

The Metatron says that the only candidate for Supreme Archangel is him. You are heavenly.

The Metatron offers Aziraphale a way to bring Crowley with him. To bring Crowley back. We were wrong about Crowley.

Aziraphale looks at the Metatron in the face as the voice of God says Crowley’s fall was a mistake, and you can make it right. (The Metatron doesn’t actually say that in those words, but they ARE the words Aziraphale hears.)

So of course he’s excited to tell Crowley. Surely Crowley knows that his fall was a mistake too. Surely this is excellent news. The best news they’ve been given in a while. They were right after all. They can fix it. Together.

But then Crowley says no. And just as much as we think Aziraphale rejected Crowley—which of course, yes, he did—Crowley rejected Aziraphale too. And Aziraphale doesn’t understand why.

(And Holy Crap Aziraphale IS WRONG. Okay he’s wrong and it’s crazy, but I can follow the line right from before the beginning. Neil Gaiman and company, you are absolutely fantastic writers, I love how wrong they both are, and I love how wonderful they’re both trying to be, this was an incredible season.)

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens spoilers #gomens #go2 spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #Aziraphale #crowley #crowley and aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce #aziracrow

[thesherrinfordfacility]

✨already on the metatron erasure campaign™ let's fucking go✨:

*EDIT, IMPORTANT* I can't believe i even missed this...but metatron is dressed in a dark coat and (iirc) tie

we know from s1 that metatron has very little patience for aziraphale, was pro-armageddon, and at least claimed to be the voice of God (when my man is basically a glorified answerphone)

the half-and-half miracle was conducted on top of the sigil, the transportation circle through which aziraphale dialled 101-metatron in s1, and we know the miracle ended up being Very Powerful

michael doesn't seem to recognise metatron... which is odd as theyre high ranking, uriel and saraqael seem to recognise him, they've definitely met, and michael was shown in the job minisode to have pretty good recollection for job's kids' names - possible memory wipe? saw something they weren't supposed to?

says he has consumed human matter before - why would metatron have been on earth??? and know what to order in a mf café???

speaking of the café, the dialogue, about people asking for death? "No... I don't suppose they do... So predictable."not sure on what this means but 💀 fckin weirdo

refers to muriel as the dim one but still puts her in charge of a heaven sanctuary on earth? as far as we know, the only one? hmmm seems like you want a puppet metty babes

butters up aziraphale with the sweet, cosy coffee - but indicating that he barely knows him at all given that we mainly see aziraphale drinking tea

what he ordered in the café was a small dash of almond syrup, but then describes it to aziraphale as being a hefty jigger of the stuff, indicating something added? wondering if there's further significance to the laudanum poison - an opiate? planning to essentially kidnap aziraphale knowing that crowley won't come looking now?

'hmm it's nice!" "yes I should jolly well hope so" 😁

a veeeeeery faint miracle chime as the coffee is handed over and when aziraphale raises it to his mouth, but hesitates... He asks "shall i...?" And metty goes:

"DRINK IT???😠 of course🙂"

definitely History™ with crowley; crowley readily recognises him after a moment, the look metatron gave him as they left the shop was filthy, and: "ah well! always did want to go his own way... always asking damn fool questions, too!"... like i get metatron is the voice of God, but was it metatron that actually made crowley fall? does metatron have that power, not exclusively god? did metatron say it was on god's orders?

plus - metatron tells aziraphale that he can reverse falling which, to me, seems like a pretty bomb ass power... and a bit OP even for the highest Archangel of heaven, leading me to:

very low, sultry ass voice, maintaining eye contact with aziraphale - all trademarks of hypnotism (temptation?) behaviour? while aziraphale was possibly drugged?

and was the promise of getting crowley restored to heaven actually a bluff, metatron knowing the aziraphale even attempting to broach it with crowley would split them up?

"go tell your friend the good news!!" Said in a voice that makes me think metty knows it's very Bad News Bears

is the whole thing a ploy to split them up? they came together in heaven, and then again on earth; is metatron trying to solve this one by essentially making aziraphale an offer he can't refuse, but that crowley absolutely will?

why choose the lift? why not just power up the circle and go through the sunroof???

and im sorry metatron but you must realise that aziraphale is severely underqualified right💀

#lmao you can take the girl out of theory writing but you cant take theory writing out of the girl #good omens #feral domestic/final fifteen meta #metatron spec

[scribbledghost]

Strike A Match

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Civilian!Wife!Reader (no Y/N)

Rating: T

Word count: 1,041

Warnings: Major character death, angst, no happy ending, Third Person POV

Note: I wanted some angst, so have some angst. Very rarely do I write something without a happy ending, but this seems to be the exception to the rule this time. :V

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Ghost was a special forces soldier. She was a civilian. He should have left this world far sooner than her.

The universe had things backwards. Nothing made sense. Not anymore.

He’d gotten the call almost as soon as the task force had touched down back on base. All four of them were weary, beaten, bruised, and barely keeping their eyelids open. But any sense of fatigue had left him as soon as one of the higher-ups rushed their way to him.

He doesn't remember the exact words now, only bits and pieces. Flashbulb memories of a day he’d do anything to forget.

Your wife.

Car accident. 

Hospital.

He’d been belligerent when he’d arrived at the emergency room. That much, he remembered. He’d stormed his way through the bays, looking desperately to find her.

Part of him now wishes he hadn’t.

It had taken five nurses to hold him back while another three attempted to restart her heart. He’s sure he screamed obscenities at the staff keeping him from her as he yanked and pulled against them all. He fought, he kicked, he pulled, and he now thinks it was a minor miracle that no one did anything more drastic to get him out of the building. 

Perhaps it was because he had still been decked out in his full combat kit. It must have been frightening enough to try and subdue a man as large as he was, let alone one that was loaded to the teeth with weapons.

He doesn’t remember much of what happened after that. Just the lengthy, ear-splitting screech of the monotone heart monitor attached to her body, coupled with him shoving medical staff out of the way to take over doing some form of CPR. 

He doesn’t remember how long it took for him to stop. 

To give up. 

To collapse next to the gurney.

But he does remember that it was Price that got him there, with a soft hand on his shoulder and a quiet “that’s enough, son”. When his captain and the rest of the task force had gotten to the hospital, he didn’t know.

Had they seen him struggling with the nurses? Had they overheard him screaming at the woman on the table, begging her not to leave him?

If they had, they never mentioned it.

In fact, they didn’t speak much at all. Simple questions, a couple of quick “I’m sorry”s, but not much else.

Just as well. He didn’t feel like talking anyway, and even if he did, he was too far disassociated to string together anything coherent. He vaguely remembers funeral arrangements being made, vaguely remembers staying at Price’s place and having Soap deliver clothes and other necessities for him from the home he’d once shared with her. Ghost couldn’t bring himself to go on his own - the memories alone threatened to suffocate him. He wasn’t sure he could handle the physical evidence of her absence.

It’s backwards, he thinks now as he stands next to an open grave.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

As he stares at her casket, he thinks back to when he’d watched from the shadows as a crowd had gathered to pay their respects to his mother.

And Tommy.

And Beth.

And little Joseph.

This time, he’s front and center. Right next to where her body lay. 

His stomach turns.

He may as well be there with her, he realizes. 

Only a small shred of Simon Riley had remained after the deaths of his family; one she’d managed to cradle in her hands and grow until it felt like a part of him again. A part of him other than Ghost.

That part of him is gone now. Simon Riley died with her in that emergency room. He had died as soon as Ghost had stopped the chest compressions and fallen to his knees. 

Only Ghost remains now.

He knows those close to him can see it; he’s rarely been alone for too long since she left him. He goes through the motions - eats when Price puts food in front of him, showers when ordered to, sleeps when his body collapses in exhaustion. He doesn’t know if he’s spoken much more than one-word sentences since the incident, nor does he care. Even now, as people line up to offer condolences, he only nods in response.

He thinks that if he hears the phrase “I’m sorry for your loss” one more time, he’s going to kill someone.

As he stares at the casket lid separating him from her, he sees his future clearly - there is no other path left for him. He will throw himself into the task force, volunteering for whatever borderline-suicidal missions the brass hands down. He will do this again, and again, and again, as many times as he needs to, until finally the universe takes pity on him.

He will become the prized fighting dog he knows he can be, and he will cause as much destruction as he needs to until someone finally puts him down.

He has lost her in this life. He’s ready to move on to the next one, ready to begin the search for her again.

He doesn’t realize that the rest of the funeral-goers have left until he blinks and realizes it’s now too dark for him to see the grave in front of him. He doesn’t feel anything, though he’s sure his voice cracks under the weight of his words when he apologizes to the open air.

Part of him wants to scream, to bellow out into the night about how wrong all of this is. But he doesn’t. Ghosts don’t tend to scream in ways others can hear.

Instead, he stalks away to his car, gets in, and drives slowly out of the graveyard.

Ghost isn’t fully in control of his movements, but he can’t bring himself to care. He isn’t quite sure why, but he gets a can of gasoline and travels down a road he’s intimately familiar with. 

An indeterminate amount of time later after emptying the can, he stands in a yard, staring at a building he can’t bring himself to go inside of anymore.

And he strikes a match.

#is this barely-comprehensible? Maybe #do i care? no #have simon going insane with grief #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost scribbles

[nofomogirl]

Good Omen's problem with having two canons

They're fundamentally different. That's the problem. That's my point.

For quite a while I focused almost exclusively on the new season of Good Omens, but now I am slowly delving into analysis that takes the entire show into account, and I've encountered a little obstacle. Namely, things from S1 can be really tricky to interpret.

Fair warning: this post is going to zig-zag between various points but I want you to trust me and take this scenic route with me. It will take us somewhere eventually, I promise.

The Arrangement

It's one of the core elements in the Good Omens universe and at the same time a perfect example of the issue I want to discuss. So let's have a closer look together.

In the book, the Arrangement is presented to us in two passages:

the first one, where it is first - very briefly - mentioned:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be.

and the second one, where it is properly introduced and explained:

The Arrangement was very simple, so simple in fact, that it didn't really deserve the capital letter, which it had got for simply being in existence for so long. It was the sort of sensible arrangement that many isolated agents, working in awkward conditions a long way from their superiors, reach with their opposite number when they realize they have more in common with their immediate opponents than their remote allies. It meant a tacit non-interference in certain of each other's activities. It made certain that while neither really won, also neither really lost, and both were able to demonstrate to their masters the great strides they were making against a cunning and well-informed adversary. (...) And then, of course, it had seemed even natural that they should, as it were, hold the fort for one another whenever common sense dictated. Both were of angel stock, after all. If one was going to Hull for a quick temptation, it made sense to nip across the city and carry out a standard brief moment of divine ecstasy. It'd get done anyway, and being sensible about it gave everyone more free time and cut down on expenses.

In the show, the Arrangement is presented to us in two original scenes in the cold opening of S1E3:

(I am quoting most relevant dialogues only)

537 AD, Wessex:

C: So we're both working very hard in damp places and just canceling each other out? A: Well, you could put it like that. It is a bit damp. C: Be easier if we both stayed home. If we just send messages back to our head offices saying we'd done everything they'd asked for, wouldn't it? A: But that would be lying. C: Eh, possibly, but the end result would be the same. Cancel each other out. A: But my dear fellow... well, they'd check. Michael's a bit of a stickler. You don't want to get Gabriel upset with you. C: Oh, our lot have better things to do than verifying compliance reports from Earth. As long as they get paperwork they seem happy enough. As long as you're being seen doing something every now and again. A: No! Absolutely not! I am shocked that you would even imply such a thing. We're not having that conversation, not another word!

1601 AD, The Globe Theatre:

A: I have to be in Edinburgh at the end of the week. A couple of blessings to do. A minor miracle to perform. (...) C: I'm meant to be heading to Edinburgh too this week. Tempting a clan leader to steal some cattle. A: Doesn't sound like hard work. C: That's why I thought we should... Well, bit of a waste of effort, both of us going all the way to Scotland. A: You cannot actually be suggesting what I infer that you are implying. C: Which is? A: That just one of us goes to Edingburgh, does both. The blessing and the tempting. C: We've done it before. Dozens of times now. The Arrangement- A: Don't say that! C: Our respective offices don't actually care how things get done. They just want to know they can cross it off the list.

S2 doesn't actually reference the Arrangement. But it does reuse the dialogue about free will where the 1020 date is dropped. We will get back to it.

The challenge of adapting Good Omens

Good Omens shares a certain characteristic with all of Terry Pratchett's solo books I've read - it couldn't care less about "showing instead of telling". Which I love, just to be clear. A book is a written medium. It's made with words and one of words' major strengths is that you can use them to just tell things point blanc.

Good Omens does it a lot and it's fantastic.

Look at that second passage from the book I quoted earlier.

From just those few sentences we learn a lot about the relationships between:

Heaven and Hell (opponents and competition)

Aziraphale and Crowley (two individuals in the same position and in direct contact with each other)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Heaven/Hell (field agent and a remote HQ that are not in direct contact)

Aziraphale/Crowley and Earth (two individuals and a space they live in)

Heaven/Hell and Earth (a board where the game is played, only winning or losing matters, what actually happens on a board does not)

It's really an extra condensed worldbuilding gem sprinkled with humor, so it's no surprise it's become one of the most iconic passages from the book.

I mean, just browse through some interviews with David and Michael - especially the ones from 2019 - where they explain what Aziraphale and Crowley are about. You'll be hard-pressed to find any where they don't reference that specific paragraph, consciously or otherwise.

But it's only this neat on the pages of the book, where narration like this takes mere seconds to absorb. It's impossible to convey the same information in a visual medium with anywhere near the same efficiency.

The fact that the majority of Good Omens is like this was, in my opinion, a main challenge the adaptation faced. The book is very narration-heavy. It's full of fun facts about characters, side jokes, hilarious comments, etc. Some of that precious material was salvaged by introducing God as a narrator, but there was only so much of it you could squeeze into a TV show. The rest had to either be fit into dialogues or lost in translation from the written medium to the visual one.

Obviously, in the case of the Arrangement, it was the dialogues.

Book canon and show canon

We all know they're not the same. Neil Gaiman also pointed it out several times. But I think our mistake is that we still tend to think about them as complementary.

Look at the Arrangement again. The show canon seems to merely expand on the book canon. Add extra details and fill in the blanks. The Arrangement works the exact same way, except now we also know more about how it started.

If we compile what we know from the book with what we know from the show, we get a more detailed timeline:

Crowley first proposes the Arrangement in 537 (show).

The Arrangement starts in 1020 (book), ie. Aziraphale finally agrees to it (show - deduction); we don't know for sure if it's a "basic version" (not getting in each other's way), or a "full version" (doing each other's jobs) but we can assume it's the former.

In 1601 "full version" of the Arrangement is in place for some time (they've done it dozens of times) but Aziraphale still objects and needs convincing.

But read that description from a book once more.

Does it really fit into the version of events shown in the TV series?

The Arrangement in the book is something that just happened. A natural, and in a way inevitable result of Aziraphale and Crowley's circumstances. We are never told who came up with it first because it doesn't matter. Because it could have been either of them. Because after five millennia on Earth, they were both ready to do it. They were both of the same mind. For all we know it might have been an unspoken agreement all along!

But for the show, the creators had to come up with a good reason for the Arrangement to be discussed out loud. And what could be a more natural situation for someone to describe and explain an idea than trying to sell that idea to someone else?

For that practical reason - among many others, no doubt - the Arrangement is not only explicitly Crowley's idea, but an idea Aziraphale vehemently rejects at first. He needs to be convinced and even when he finally relents he's never entirely comfortable with it. He keeps objecting and it requires Crowley's constant effort for them to keep cooperating in any way.

The fact that Aziraphale is reluctant gives Crowley a perfect reason to keep convincing him ie. talk about the Arrangement. But the fact that he needs to explain and keep convincing Aziraphale means that Aziraphale is no longer a person who understands the same things and feels the same way.

That is a huge change.

Of course, you may say that what I've written about the Arrangement in the book is just my interpretation. It's true that technically there's nothing there that would contradict the events from the show in any way. The thing is, the events in the show aren't very compatible with the overall characterization of the ineffable duo in the book.

Evolution of Aziraphale and Crowley

You might have read that our leading pair was originally conceived as a single character that Neil and Terry eventually decided to split into two separate individuals.

My reaction when I first learned about it was: "Of course they were! That makes so much sense!" Because honestly, as a person who watched the show first and then read the book, I was surprised at how few differences there were between the two in the original text. If you squint your eyes really tight, you can see how book!Aziraphale and book!Crowley are two versions of the same character. They're far more similar than their show versions.

Most importantly, their attitudes toward Heaven and Hell are pretty much identical. Perfectly mirrored in every regard. What Hell is for Crowley, Heaven is for Aziraphale. What Hell is for Aziraphale, Heaven is for Crowley. In. Every. Possible. Way.

Allow me to present some evidence from the book.

Exhibit #1: the end of the scene where Crowley convinces Aziraphale to interfere with Warlock's upbringing

'You're saying the child isn't evil of itself?' he said slowly. 'Potentially evil. Potentially good too, I suppose. Just this huge powerful potentiality, waiting to be shaped,' said Crowley. He shrugged. 'Anyway, why're we talking about this good and evil? They're just names for sides. We know that.' 'I suppose it's got to be worth a try,' said the angel. Crowley nodded encouragingly. 'Agreed?' said the demon, holding out his hand. The angel shook it, cautiously. 'It'll certainly be more interesting than saints,' he said. 'And it'll be for the child's own good, in the long run,' said Crowley. (...)

When Crowley first points out that good and evil are just names for sides, and then insists it's something they both know, Aziraphale doesn't react in any way. That's because these aren't things that book!Aziraphale disagrees with. He does indeed know it and doesn't deny it.

Also, please note just how cynical the angel is here with his comment that influencing the Antichrist would be a more interesting project than influencing saints!

Both would be rather OOC for show!Aziraphale.

Exhibit #2: the scene just after Warlock Dowling's birthday party, when it becomes evident he is not the Antichrist

'You said it was him!' moaned Aziraphale (...) 'It was him,' said Crowley. (...) 'Then someone else must be interfering.' 'There isn't anyone else! There's just us, right? Good and Evil. One side or the other.' He thumped the steering wheel. 'You'll be amazed at the kind of things they can do to you, down there,' he said. 'I imagine they're very similar to the sort of things they can do to you up there,' said Aziraphale. 'Come off it. Your lot get ineffable mercy,' said Crowley sourly. 'Yes? Did you ever visit Gomorrah?' 'Sure' said the demon. 'There was this great little tavern where you could get these terrific fermented date-palm cocktails with nutmeg and crushed lemongrass-' 'I meant afterwards.' 'Oh.'

Can you imagine this kind of exchange in the TV series? Can you imagine show!Aziraphale being this realistic about Heaven, and show!Crowley so naive about it? There's no way.

Show!Aziraphale genuinely believes that Heaven is good at its core.

Book!Aziraphale knows Heaven isn't any different than Hell and would punish him just as ruthlessly and unfairly as Hell would Crowley.

Show!Crowley understands both Heaven and Hell on a very deep level and is highly aware of their true nature.

Book!Crowley buys a piece of celestial propaganda about ineffable mercy and actually expects Heaven to be forgiving.

Let the magnitude of that difference sink.

Exhibit #3: same scene, a bit further

'So all we've got to do is find it,' said Crowley. 'Go through the hospital records.' The Bentley's engine coughed into life and the car leapt forward, forcing Aziraphale back into the seat. 'And then what?' he said. 'And then we find the child.' 'And then what?' The angel shut his eyes as the car crabbed around the corner. 'Don't know.' 'Good grief.' 'I suppose (...) your people wouldn't consider (...) giving me asylum?' 'I was going to ask you the same thing. (...)'

This is just a cherry on top, really.

Yes, in the book, when things go pear-shaped, both Aziraphale and Crowley consider seeking asylum on the opposite side.

Do you need more proof that book canon and show canon really aren't as compatible as they may seem?

Free will

As promised, let's get back to that dialogue because while it may not be obvious at first glance it really illustrates perfectly the problem arising from balancing between two canons.

Here is the full quote from the book:

Aziraphale had tried to explain [free will] to him once. The whole point, he'd said - this was somewhere around 1020, when they'd first reached their little Arrangement - the whole point was that when a human was good or bad it was because they wanted to be. Whereas people like Crowley and, of course, himself, were set in their ways right from the start. People couldn't become truly holy, he said, unless they also had the opportunity to be definitively wicked. Crowley had thought about it for some time and, around about 1023, had said, Hang on, that only works, right, if you start everyone off equal, OK? You can't start someone off in a muddy shack in the middle of a war zone and expect them to do as well as someone born in a castle. Ah, Aziraphale had said, that's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. Crowley had said, That's lunatic. No, said Aziraphale, it's ineffable.

And here, for comparison, is how it was reused in S2E3:

A: There is a stolen body in that barrel! This is wicked! C: Oh, I'm down with wicked! Anyway, is it wicked? She needed the money. A: That is irrelevant. Look, I am good. You, I'm afraid, are evil. But people get a choice. You know, they cannot be truly holy unless they also get the opportunity to be wicked. She is wicked. C: Yeah, that only works if you start everyone off equal. You can't start someone off like that and expect her to do as well as someone born in a castle. A: Ah, but no, no. That's the good bit. The lower you start, the more opportunities you have. So Elspeth here has all the opportunities because she's so poor. C: That's lunacy. A: No, that's ineffable.

I'll be honest with you - I didn't like that scene in the show. It felt jarring and off. Aziraphale was acting like it was his first day on Earth and it was frustrating to watch.

Then, on one of the rewatches, just as I was rolling my eyes at "that's ineffable", a bulb lit in my brain. That line didn't work there because it wasn't created to be there! In the book and in S1 "it's ineffable" was kind of Aziraphale's catchphrase but in S2 it only appears this once. More importantly, in the book and S1, the fact that the angel would say that was all a build-up to the scene when he threw it in Heaven's face at the Tadfield Airbase. Using that word in S2 was like trying to make a running joke that has already reached its destination run again.

And just like that one line the entire dialogue didn't fit because it wasn't meant to be there. It was created for an entirely different context.

What's the difference?

Firstly, book!husbands' conviction was very shallow and it wasn't uncommon for both of them to spout slogans without meaning them. Therefore, book!Aziraphale's words didn't carry that much weight. The very fact that the conversation took place at the same time they formed the Arrangement tells us something about how serious he was. But show!Aziraphale's relationship with his beliefs is different, so when he says things like that it's a much bigger deal.

Secondly, the book explicitly states that Aziraphale and Crowley only developed free will on Earth, due to extended exposure to mankind. The show never really makes a stand on the matter but based on what we've seen so far I think we can safely assume that angels and demons are capable of making their own choices as much as humans do.

In other words, in its original context, the conversation was just Aziraphale talking about a concept he didn't fully grasp, quoting propaganda he didn't fully subscribe to. He was being ignorant and mildly obnoxious in an endearing way.

But using the same dialogue verbatim in the Resurrectionist carried a completely different meaning. Aziraphale who utters it in the show has no reason to be so ignorant about free will. Aziraphale who utters it in the show genuinely tries to defend Heaven. Most importantly, Aziraphale who utters it in the show, doesn't just idly bicker with his friend about general things but is judging an actual human individual that's right in front of them. That, more than anything else, makes it sound heartless and ignorant.

What is the problem with having two canons, exactly?

It's time to wrap things up.

In the opening paragraphs, I've mentioned that I've noticed the issue while interpreting scenes from S1, and yes, that was the case and I do believe that the existence of two canons is especially problematic for S1. That's because pretty much every scene in S1 is potentially like that dialogue about free will in S2, except subtler and harder to spot.

A grand majority of what we see and hear in S1 comes directly from the book. But while words and actions were kept, in some instances things that gave them their original meaning might no longer be valid in the show universe. Sometimes they easily take new meaning, and we don't even notice. But sometimes there's this dissonance that's not as easy to work around.

S1 deviated from the book and created its own canon. But the difference didn't seem to go very deep and it seemed perfectly reasonable to use some trivia from the book to shed some extra light on the content of the show. I used to do it in my head, even though I was aware of the changes that were made.

But S2 expanded the show canon so far beyond what was in the book that I'm really not sure it makes sense to compile them anymore.

There are a lot of things that were only explicitly stated in the book that I keep clinging to. But perhaps it's time to let go...

Thank you for your patience.

I know all of the above isn't exactly a revolutionary discovery, but I needed to get it off my chest before writing anything else.

#good omens #good omens 2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens the book #differences between book and show #very long post #things I needed to get off my chest

[aliahm]

Crowley x Gender Neutral Reader - NSFW Alphabet

A collection of NSFW headcanons about the Serpent of Eden himself

The moodboard above was made by me, using images found on tumblr and Google. (Image #4 is from firefly graphics, here on tumblr). Credit for those original images goes to each of the owners. The gif used in this post was made by me, and both the dividers in this post were also made by me, using images found on Google. Credit for those original images goes to each of the owners.

A - Aftercare (What do they do after sex?)

If it’s needed, Crowley will clean you up before he does the same for himself, then he’ll make sure you have whatever else you need, whether that’s to be held, to drink water, to rest, etc. He especially loves to fall asleep with you after sex.

B - Body Part (Their favourite body part of their own and of their partner’s)

Crowley loves your lips, as well as your eyes.

He loves your smile, and the way your lips feel against his own. As for your eyes, he loves them because they show your emotions so clearly. All the happiness, excitement, lust, vulnerability and everything else held within them reminds him of how beautifully human you are.

He loves his hands. They remind him of the power and strength that he holds, and of the many miracles he’s performed in his time. He also loves that he can get what he wants with a snap of his fingers, and that his hands allow him to hold you, touch you, and give you pleasure.

C - Cum

He doesn’t really have a preference as to where he cums when you have sex. Wherever you ask him to, he will, but he does especially like to cum on your stomach or your back, where he can see it after sex.

He also loves to go down on you and have you cum in his mouth. He’ll sometimes put on a bit of a show and lick your cum off his lips or wipe it off with the back of his hand while you watch.

D - Dirty Secret

This isn’t a secret he keeps from you, he just doesn’t talk about it much: He likes it if you cry during or after sex, because he loves being able to comfort you and see you so open and vulnerable. He’s very proud that you trust him enough to show your emotions in that way.

E - Experience (How experienced are they?)

Crowley has become very sexually experienced over the course of his long life. He knows many, many ways to please a partner, and he takes a lot of pride in that knowledge. He definitely likes being more experienced than his partner, and being able to “teach them” as it were. He’d be lying if he said his sexual knowledge and skill doesn’t fuel his ego.

F - Favourite Position

It varies depending on his mood, but one scenario he particularly loves is to completely restrict your movements (either by restraining you or by miracling you completely still) and have his way with you until he allows you to move again. It usually starts a little something like this:

G - Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humourous? etc.)

Crowley has always had a good sense of humor, and that applies when it comes to his sex life too. He can be serious depending on the moment of course, but if you’re just looking to have a good time together, he loves to make you laugh and smile during sex.

H - Hair

Crowley likes the look of having hair on his chest, and when it comes to the hair below his belt, he makes sure it’s always neat and well-maintained, but he’s never completely clean-shaven. He just prefers not to be.

I - Intimacy (How affectionate or romantic are they in the moment?)

Crowley is incredibly passionate in every aspect of his life, including sex. He sees it as another way to show you how much he cares for and desires you, and he loves to make that known in the ways he touches you and talks to you before, during and after sex.

He’ll hold your hand, kiss you all over your face, jaw, and neck, and whisper in your ear telling you how well you’re doing and how proud he is of you.

J - Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He definitely enjoys masturbation as much as partnered sex, and he has a voyeuristic side too. His favourite way to show it is to have you get yourself off while he watches.

K - Kinks

Crowley is no stranger to BDSM and kinks in general, but he usually enjoys them mainly as an addition to sex, instead of on their own. He likes lots of kinky activities, like bondage, gags and spanking, but if those aren’t things you’re interested in, that’s fine with him. Your comfort, safety and happiness are most important to him, and he takes your limits and boundaries very seriously. 

One of his favourite kinks/activities is edging you. He’ll have you whining and crying and he’ll say things like, “What is it, baby? Tell me what you need.” as if he doesn’t know, and when you’re begging him over and over again to let you cum, he’ll remind you that you can’t, and you won’t, until he wants you to. Until then, you can beg and cry all you want.

L - Location (Their favourite place(s) to have sex)

Pretty much anywhere, as long as you’re comfortable with it. Bedrooms, living rooms, kitchens, his office, etc. etc.

He does have his personal favourite places, though. Those would be his own bed, his beloved Bentley, and the Ritz (he loves to slip his hand under your clothes when you’re there having dinner, and when you’re pretty much anywhere else where other people won’t notice).

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going?)

One particular thing that drives him wild is when he comes home and you tell him you missed him. He loves the idea that his baby just can’t stand it when he’s not around.

Of course, he knows how dramatic that is, it’s just that he loves you so damn much. He’ll definitely be taking the first opportunity to pull you over to the couch or bed and make up for the time he was gone.

N - No (Things they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Anything that involves cuts or broken skin.

O - Oral (Preferences for giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He likes giving and receiving equally, but if oral isn’t something you’re interested in, he won’t mind.

Crowley is, to put it simply, really damn good with his mouth, and he certainly isn’t shy about it. He’ll go down on you like he’s been starving for months on end, and he knows how to use that snake tongue of his to remind you what the true meaning of heaven is.

Receiving helps him relax, and in those moments he’ll lean back, close his eyes and stroke your hair. Sometimes he’ll bring your hand up to his lips and kiss it, as a way of letting you know that he’s enjoying what you’re doing.

P - Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be fast and rough depending on what you’re both in the mood for, but most of the time he keeps his movements steady and slow. He likes to make sex last as long as possible, and sometimes he finds it fun to drag things on while you’re getting desperate and begging him to go faster.

Q - Quickies (What’s their opinion on quickies?, How often do they have them? etc.)

He enjoys them, but he prefers not to have to rush when it comes to sex. When they happen, though, he absolutely makes the most of them. Those are some of the only times he’ll find himself in the backseat of his Bentley instead of the driver’s seat ;)

R - Risk (Do they like to experiment? Are they willing to? etc.)

He’s all for experimenting with new kinks, locations, etc. If you talk with him about something you’re already interested in, or something you want to try, he’ll always listen with an open mind.

S - Stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last? etc.)

Crowley once implied that demons can have sex for as long as they want, then when you asked him about it, he clarified that he was specifically referring to himself.

He’s a cocky bastard, but it’s true. He can go for as many rounds as he pleases, and he can last for pretty much as long as he wants. Sometimes he’ll use that to overstimulate you until you can’t stand it, because he loves the power trip that comes with seeing you fall apart over and over, knowing he doesn’t have to stop until he wants to.

T - Toys (Do they own and use sex toys?)

He usually doesn’t use sex toys unless you ask him to, but he doesn’t mind them either way.

U - Unfair (Do they like to tease?)

Absolutely. Crowley loves to mess with you. He’ll whisper dirty comments in your ear while you’re out in public, telling you exactly what he wishes you were both doing at that very moment, or he’ll pull you away into a secluded corner during the day and cover your neck in love bites, or beckon you over out of nowhere and say things like, “Let me look at you”.

V - Volume (How loud are they?)

Crowley isn’t usually very loud during sex, but he’ll sigh and groan into your ear, and when he wants to, he’ll talk dirty just to see your reactions. Sometimes he’ll praise you over and over again, sometimes he’ll tease you about how “unbelievably needy” you are, and sometimes he’ll do both at the same time, after he’s promised to give you exactly what it is that you want so badly.

If you’re going down on him, those same sighs and groans will definitely leave his lips, and you‘ll even hear him hiss and growl sometimes too.

W - Wild Card (Random Headcanon)

His favourite thing for you to call him (both in and out of sexual situations) would have to be Daddy. He didn’t expect that to be the case, but the more he thought about it, the more he loved it.

He’s naturally very protective of the people he loves, and he also loves being the one in charge (during sex and otherwise). Not to mention that the name is a reminder of the age gap between you and him. He’s been around since the very beginning, and he loves being the older, more experienced one in the relationship, who you come to when you need help and guidance, because that’s what he’s there for: to take care of you, however you need him to.

He’ll call you “baby” or “little one” if you’re alright with that, although he does have lots of different pet names for you, so it varies. He also has a habit of calling you “pet”, especially when he knows you’re feeling down.

X - X-Ray (What’s going on inside those pants?)

Crowley is about average sized, and he’s never been the least bit insecure about it, because he knows it doesn’t actually matter at all. He’s got unshakable confidence, both when it comes to his appearance, and his sex life.

Y - Yearning (How often do they want and like to have sex?)

It varies, as with anyone, but it doesn’t really matter to him how often he has sex. He definitely enjoys having sex regularly, but if he doesn’t, that’s fine with him. He just likes to spend time with you and let things happen organically.

Z - Zzz (How quickly do they fall asleep after sex?)

It usually takes him a bit to drift off, after sex and in general, so he likes to read to you at night, or have you read to him. What helps the most though is being able to hold you or touch you in some way as he falls asleep.

If I’ve left out any content warnings, or if I’ve made any mistakes writing for a gender neutral reader, please let me know.

#good omens crowley x reader #good omens crowley fanfiction #good omens crowley x gender neutral reader #crowley x gender neutral reader #anthony crowley x reader #crowley x reader #good omens crowley smut #good omens crowley x gender neutral reader smut #good omens crowley x reader smut #anthony crowley x gender neutral reader #anthony j crowley x reader

[paladin-heart5]

Dream Come True

Husband Leon Kennedy x Reader!

Summary; You and Leon enjoy the life of having a baby.

Word count: 1.1k

You sit on the couch with your babygirl in your arms. A sweet little infant, cooing as you sing softly to her. Bright blue eyes and a cute nose to match her father's, and soft hair identical to yours. Her tiny hand holding your finger, you smile. She's so precious, and you couldn't be happier than to have made a little miracle with your husband. 

Leon enters your shared home with a heavy sigh. His eyes are droopy from lack of sleep, and he's all dirty. A two day mission may not seem like much, but it was messy, and he hated to be away from his girls. But as he looks forward, he melts. His achy muscles slowly begin to relax at the sight of his wife and child. Your voice is melodic, a lullaby that could put him to sleep faster than the baby. His feet bring him forward without having to think. Hearing footsteps, you look up and smile softly. 

“Hello, my love.” You hum excitedly, lifting the baby up more. Leon smiles and leans down to kiss you. Not just a quick, but a loving kiss, enough to taste the familiar cherry chapstick you always wear. Makes you soft and sweet, just like your personality. He couldn't imagine falling out of love. 

“Hey, baby. How are you holding up? You should be resting.” Leon says softly, placing a hand on your cheek. You lean into it and let out a breath of content. You've only been out of the hospital for three months, but you feel better. However, your husband thinks you need to be pampered a little longer.

“I'm alright, really. By the looks of it I should be asking you the same thing… oh! Look look,” You eagerly look at your daughter and coo at her. “Hey June, daddy's home! Say hi! You can do it, sweetie.” The baby looks at him and moves her arms around a bit, smiling. After a moment, she coos at him. Leon swears his heart explodes at the adorable sound.

“Holy shit,” The shock in his tone is evident, but you give him a stern look.  “Language, sorry.” He chuckled nervously. He slowly holds his finger out, June grabs it before trying to suck on it. Leon pulls back as soon as he notices, with how gross he is, definitely not risking his baby girl's health. June makes a frowny face before she starts crying. Leon's eyes widen as you tilt your head.

“Someone's hungry.” You hum as you go to lift your shirt so you can breastfeed her. Leon blinks as he watches, but snaps himself out of it. 

“Sorry, honey.” He apologizes softly, running a hand through his hair. You chuckle softly.

“Don't be, Lee. I've got an idea, how about we all take a shower when she's done, hm? I think the skin to skin time will be good for getting her to sleep. I've been having a hard time.” You suggest, making Leon light up at the idea.

“I'll go get our clothes.” He holds back his excitement back just a bit as he goes to get your stuff together.

—----

You gently wash your body while Leon holds June to his shoulder, swaying under the warm water. It seems to be relaxing her very well. You smile at the sight, Leon looks so sweet. He's like a gentle giant, holding such a tiny being. Your heart just swells. You take the time to gently wash him up too.

“You're doing so well with her.” You comment, earning a smile from your husband. “You think so?” He asks softly.

“I know so, she adores you as much as I do.” Your hand trails down his muscular arms as he continues to sway. You then look down at yourself, rubbing a hand over your stomach. Your body is partially back to normal, with the additional stretch marks. You're doing your best to get used to the new image of your body. Leon glances over and notices this, he smiles and carefully turns to you.

“Thank you.” He whispers, reaching for your stomach. You look at him and blink for a moment, trying not to back away shyly.

“What for?” You ask quietly, tilting your head slightly.

“For loving me, marrying me, giving me the opportunity to be a father. I always wondered what it'd be like to have this kind of life. You gave me a safe space to come home to, another reason to protect. And hell, we made a beautiful baby.” Leon pours his heart out into you, his eyes shine brighter every sentence. You swear he puts you under a spell with those ocean eyes. A blush creeps its way into your cheeks, a smile following behind. Before you can think of a response, he continues.

“I'd go to the ends of the earth for you and this child. I want you to know that. I love you no matter what. I meant it in those vows, you're the light of my life. Funny, kind, sexy.” He smirks as he rubs your hip. You giggle, looking away all shy and giddy. He makes you look back up at him and gives you a kiss.

“Okay okay,” You whisper, glancing at the baby. “I think we're clean, let's put the baby to bed.” Leon nods and turns off the water. You quickly grab the towel blanket for the baby and wrap her up. She starts to coo again, her eyes growing heavy.

“I know, sweetie.” You dry her up gently and get her ready for bed. Leon watches you with adoring eyes, he goes to dry you up before himself.

“We don't have to put her in the crib yet.. right?” He asks with pouty lips. You chuckle and shake your head.

“No, but we will soon.” You look at him, he makes a frowny face and pulls you both in for a hug, obviously trying not to crush the baby. You smile and kiss his jaw before you both take turns getting dressed. You begin to hum as you get June to her bassinet, carefully setting her. Leon wraps his arms around you from behind and admires. 

“It feels like a dream, am I dreaming?” You ask him softly. Leon chuckles and kisses your neck, making you shiver.

“Nope, not dreaming.” You state with a dreamy sigh. Leon takes your hand and leads you to the bed. You both get under the covers and cuddle. The warmth is instant when you're in your husband's arms, his strong muscles make you feel safe.

“I never wanna let go.” He whispers, kissing the top of your head. You look up at him. “Me neither.”

#leon kennedy #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #fanfic #resident evil #fluff

[maybege]

Can I request Hotch for 45, 138, and 266 for the prompts? ❤️

Thank you!! :)

Big Dick Energy: The Sequel's Sequel

Summary: Hotch grants the team an extra night in Vegas and as luck would have it, you have to share a room.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!Reader

Wordcount: 10.3k | Rating: E (18+ only!)

Warnings: explicit sexual content, dom!Hotch, sub!Reader, unprotected sex, dirty talk, choking, spitting, oral (m receiving), fingersucking, oral fixation, verbal degradation, cream pie, then some unexpected fluff

Prompts: #45 “I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly.” + #138 “Were you just masturbating?” + #266 “I dare you to fuck____.”

Thank you so much for requesting these wonderful prompts! I know it has taken me way too long (1,5 years) but hey better late than never. I am so happy with how it turned out. Please do reblog and comment and let me know what you think! Shoutout goes out to @galacticgraffiti for getting me back on my Criminal Minds shit.

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Sometimes miracles happen.

Like when that last little bit of coffee beans was enough for Rossi’s espresso and subsequently saved the entire office from having to endure his grumpy demeanour for the afternoon.

Or that time Spencer managed to fly his paper plane all across the BAU’s desks, only stopped by Chief Strauss walking in the line of fire.

Or when a case took you to Las Vegas and SSA Agent Hotchner agreed for you all to just stay a night longer. Like, in Vegas. For free. For work.

You knew the suggestion had been meant as a joke by Derek but as soon as Hotch had actually agreed to it, no one protested and you made the unilateral silent decision to just run with it. Who were you to look a gifted horse in the mouth?

Still, you knew you were all thinking the same thing.

“Drugs!” Penelope exclaimed in her room, colourful bracelets dangling from her wrist, “There is no other way. He is taking drugs.”

“I doubt Hotch is taking drugs, Penelope,” JJ said calmly, though she did not look quite as certain as one would assume. The blonde woman was sitting cross-legged on the large bed, shoes thrown somewhere in the corner. “After all these hard cases, I am sure he just wants to give us a reprieve from everything.”

“Hotch never gives us a reprieve,” Garcia gasped, sounding like she had just run a marathon only to find out there we still a few miles to go, “What if this is all an elaborate plan to have me be workplace inappropriate on the record and Strauss can finally order that evaluation that she has been holding over my head since the coffee incident?”

You smiled, amused at her nervous antics, and – to be honest – to keep you from defending him. Hotch had found a very soft spot in your heart. A spot too soft for a man that was supposed to be your boss and nothing but your boss. Though it had been a long time since he had been only your boss. Ever since the plane, ever since the changing room, you could not deny that there was tension between you two. And not the kind of tension where he looked like he would fire you at any moment. No, the kind of tension where he looked like he was about to reach under your skirt and check if you wore that lingerie he had bought for you (and fucked you in).

You had had the hope that after your latest encounter, you would have more chances to … well, to have Aaron Hotchner fuck you. But there was always something and when days had turned into weeks had turned into months, doubt started to creep in whether he actually wanted anything from you. Maybe he had just been out for a quick fuck and that was it?

And all of that did not get any easier with the fact that you were working together. That he was your boss. That your colleagues were the best profilers in the country.

So, you had to take great care in remaining as neutral about him as possible and part of that involved focusing more on the sheer panic that Garcia exuded when she was outside of her office rather than your desire to protect him from any doubts just because he wanted to do something nice for the team.

A glance at the woman on your right, leaning against the doorway, showed you that Emily Prentiss was thinking the exact same thing. “Are you sure this has to do with Hotch’s unusual behaviour or the fact that you feel uneasy in the field?”

“Alright, alright, maybe I am,” she pressed a hand to her chest, “A little nervous at being here but you cannot deny that this feels like a trap! You know how I get around Morgan when I’ve had a few drinks.”

“You don’t need drinks to act that way around him,” JJ interjected, “And I think that is what you are so worried about.”

“What if I do something I can never take back?” Garcia asked, despair and

“Well that depends on if you would even want to take it back,” Emily shrugged, “Because from where I stand there is nothing Derek wouldn’t want you to do to him.”

A hot pink pillow flew in her direction. “Hey!”

A knock on the door snapped you out of your conversation and you turned around to find none other than the man that plagued your dreams day and night standing in the doorway. He looked serious, his brows furrowed – with a bright pink pillow in his hands.

“I am sorry to interrupt what I am sure is a very riveting discussion,” your boss said, looking directly at you, “But we have a problem with the rooms. Could you come down to reception with me?”

“Uh,” you said, “Sure.”

You stepped out of the room. Your heart felt like it was moving up your throat and you cursed yourself for not having changed since coming back from the station. (As if Hotch ever paid attention to your outfits.)

Walking down the corridor, neither one of you said anything but as you waited for the elevator, his hand landed on the low of your back. It was a light touch, nothing to lose your mind over. But your breath hitched anyway, thinking of all the other ways he had touched you before. You glanced up at him, noticing how the corner of his lips quirked up just the slightest bit.

He had noticed!

You were not sure what weighed more. Your exasperation or your embarrassment at having been caught. But Hotch did not leave you because his hand guided you in the elevator. For a second, you wondered if he would press the emergency button like in the shows and press you against the wall and kiss you breathless.

He did not.

“What, uh, what is the problem?” you asked, finally feeling sure enough to speak.

“Extending everyone’s rooms for another night did not go as smoothly as possible,” he explained, his voice flat, “A few of us need to room together.”

“Oh,” you said, the wheels in your head turning. Because –

“Everybody else is already rooming together,” he said what you were thinking, “They have one other room available but I need your approval,” he paused for a second, “your consent.”

The hotel you stayed in was right by the strip, the ground floor a vast labyrinth of poker tables, arcade games and anything one could ever imagine being in a Vegas casino. As you passed the crowds of run-down partygoers, the smell of marijuana in the air, you could hear the rattling of the, the cheers of the winners and the groans of the losers.

Hotch’s hand did not leave your back.

It was reassuring in a way.

“Ah there you are again,” the lady said, sounding awfully cheerful at seeing him again. You shifted, trying to ignore the unpleasant pang in your chest area. If Hotch noticed her obvious attempt at flirting, he did not show it.

“I brought the colleague I would have to share the room with,” he stated, “Could you explain again what kind of room it would be?”

Have to, he said, have to.

There was a bitter taste in your mouth and you pressed your lips together.

“Like I said before,” she explained, “We only have one free room tonight. It’s a little further than the other rooms in your booking but it is a king so it might be big enough to share.”

“It just might be,“ he replied, stoic as ever when he turned to you, his thumb brushing over the small of your back, “I doubt we will spend much time sleeping anyway. What do you think?“

You were convinced he knew what he was doing. He wouldn’t be saying these things and touching you like this if he didn’t. And yet, he looked at you so coolly, so very unbothered, that a small voice in your head wondered whether you were imagining it all.

Aaron Hotchner, divorced father of one, your boss and the last man to make you come, was driving you absolutely crazy.

“I’m game,” you said, sounding way too chipper and high-pitched for your own taste, “It won’t be too bad, I’m sure.”

You tried to ignore the way your stomach threw somersaults when he gave you that little half-smile that made his eyes crinkle. And yet when you saw that twinkle you knew that yes, he knew exactly what he was doing.

*

Act normal. Act normal. Act fucking normal.

The hotel room you landed in was indeed almost at the other end of the hotel than your previous one, and quite a few floors up and your first thought at that revelation was that it would allow you to be as loud as you want without fear of your teammate hearing you.

How appropriate.

 “Do you mind if I take the right side?”

You looked up, completely dumbfounded. Hotch stood by the bed already (and you tried your hardest not to think about what he would look like in that bed), his travel bag on the little armchair in the corner. It was kind of fitting, seeing how put together he looked even when he had the same 5 minutes to pack up his stuff as you did. But your travel bag was half-zipped closed, your clothes a wrinkled mess inside as you just threw everything inside in the hopes that it would survive the short journey until they could be unpacked again.

It was human, you knew, nothing out of the extraordinary. But next to Hotch who probably folded his underwear, you suddenly felt like you would never be able to reach him.

“Uh, no, not at all,” you murmured, walking to the side that was closer to the window. For a second you wondered if it hadn’t been about right or left but rather which side was closer to the door. But you shook that thought off as soon as it had appeared.

He didn’t say anything but started to unpack his things. Out of the corner of your eyes, you noted his neatly folded pyjamas (you could count the times you had seen him wear anything but a suit on one hand) and the little toiletry bag that was void of any water stains.

It was silent for a few moments as you sorted your own clothes, putting your crumpled-up pyjamas under your pillow, getting out your toiletries (one by one because that bag would look even more a mess next to his neatly organized one) and seeing what clothing items you had left that were not sweat- and/or blood-stained.

The selection was not the biggest.

In fact, it consisted of the clothes you were wearing now (only if you ) and a single pair of panties.

Great.

For a moment you contemplated enquiring about the hotel laundry service.

You knew the plan was to go out tonight and explore all the things the city had to offer (Reid mentioned a museum on the old gangsters of the city’s past but you had a sneaking suspicion that you would land in one bar or another). This was Vegas after all and you would be stupid not to take advantage of this unexpected vacation. But something about the thought of wearing your three-day-worn sweater in that heat made you hesitate.

Your phone dinged, finding a selfie with Garcia, JJ and Prentiss, all excitedly grinning into the camera.

Greatest Garcia: Let’s go shopping in Vegas! <3

And that is how your problem solved itself before it could really turn into a problem.

*

Dress shopping in Vegas made you feel like you were a different person altogether. Everything was full of glitter and soft fabrics and ideas of a life so different from your own. It gave you that little desire in the back of your head of wanting to play dress up, wanting to pretend to be a woman who was confident and sexy and could show up in bars and have heads turn towards her. You wanted

And so, it came that you put on the most revealing dress you had ever worn. It was incredibly short and incredibly glittery making you feel like you were “cosplaying a mirror ball” (Emily’s words, not yours). But not in a bad way.

On the contrary, when you had half of the BAU standing outside your changing room, whistling and cheering you on when you stepped outside, how could you not buy the dress that just barely covered your ass and was so very tight-fitting?

“You look stunning,” Garcia snapped her fingers, “You have to buy it! I don’t make the rules.”

Deep down you were not sure if the decision to buy the dress had been driven by your friends’ support or the few cocktails you had slurped during pre-game or perhaps the wishful thinking that a certain BAU chief would see you in this dress and decide to keep you in his bed all night long. Probably a little bit of everything.

You had been the first to find your dress which meant that you could spend the rest of the afternoon with your friends and watch them choose their outfits. JJ got a dark blue something that made her look absolutely gorgeous (Prentiss seemed to think so too if her appreciative over her (girl)friend’s figure was anything to go by) and Garcia found something that was even more colourful – something you had seriously doubted if it could be achieved.

By the end of the day, you were all sitting in the hotel lounge, shopping bags at your feet and cocktail glasses in your hands. You were the epitome of relaxation, the stress of the last few days finally wearing off you and you found yourself enjoying Garcia’s stories and Prentiss’ and JJ’s banter.

“Hey!”

You looked up, finding Reid standing at the edge of your little circle, looking as happy as ever to see you. Only he was not alone …

“Officer Greggs,” Prentiss was the first to speak, “What a surprise to you here. I thought for sure you were going to spend the day at the office today.”

Officer Greggs was on the police force you had assisted in your last case. He had led the case before your arrival and despite his age, had several people under his command. Rossi had described him as “surprisingly competent for a man his age” and Reid had bonded with him over his childhood in a city that was never really seen for its residential aspects. He was a nice man. Good-looking. Certainly your type if you had not been hopelessly in love with your boss.

“Yeah, we thought it might be a good idea to just let loose for the weekend,” the tall man explained, his hands in the pocket of his pants. He wore jeans and a green shirt, showing off the muscles in his arms. The way he said we let you know that it really hadn’t been his idea but that his colleagues had dragged him along.

Your lips quirked up. That reminded you of someone.

His dark eyes met yours in a light smile. “Who knows,” he said, smiling at you and no one else, “Maybe we see each other around.”

*

Seeing Aaron Hotchner step freshly out of the shower, wearing only his slacks and a white undershirt had your pussy clamping around nothing. You had not been prepared for this sight and it felt like an attack. It had to be.

His hair was a little damp still and you noticed he had shaved; his jaw was void of any stubble and it made you want to run your fingers along his jawline. He was looking down at something, a little furrow between his brows from concentration. You followed his gaze and regretted it instantly. His belt, you realized a little belatedly, he was fixing his belt. His veiny hands working with the buckles made you want to drop to your knees and beg him to take that belt off entirely.

He didn’t need it anyway. Not unless he wanted to tie you up.

You gulped.

When he looked up, his brows were furrowed still and you froze, afraid that if you moved it would betray how much you had been staring at him.

“What are you wearing?”

You could see his mouth move but you were not quite prepared to hear what he was actually saying. “What?”

“What are you wearing?” he asked, sounding like he was about to berate you in his office. You could not hide your frown.

You had literally just gotten ready, hurrying into your dress while he was safe inside the shower. And now he came out, looking like the half-god he was, and was criticizing your outfit?

The tinge of insecurity was overshadowed by a wave of frustration.

Was he really that displeased? Did he really have the audacity to talk to you like that? Had you been that wrong in your impression of him?

Your mouth was open, stinging words already on your tongue, but then he looked up again and you realized … you realized he was turned on. His eyes were dark and unmistakably roaming over the bare skin of your legs and cleavage and there was that tightness in his jaw that you knew showed his self-control.

Your words of protest died on your tongue and in a split second he was standing right in front of you. He smelled of hotel shower gel and his cologne. Your hand landed on his chest, feeling the heat of his body through the thin fabric. You realized you had never seen him undressed and the sudden desire to run your hands over his chest and under the hem of his shirt filled you.

“We are going out tonight,” you stated in a whisper, “And we, uh, we went out to get something fun.”

He hummed, an amused glint in his eyes you were once again struck by how much happier he looked when he smiled. “So, this is,” his hands landed on your hips, “fun?”

It would certainly be fun if he took that dress off you.

He seemed to think the same because his fingertips skimmed over the hem of your dress until they slipped under it, rough skin brushing over where your thighs met your ass. “It’s a shame I couldn’t buy you some more lingerie,” he noted, his voice deep and warm as his nose brushed against yours, “You would look stunning on this bed in nothing but the prettiest lace.”

“Or without it,” you added cheekily, rising onto your tiptoes so you could brush your lips over his.

He made a low sound in his agreement, the way his hands tightened on your ass letting you know just how much he liked that idea.

His lips touched yours, just briefly, just a peck as if to test the waters. But all it managed to do was break the dam of all the desire you had held back these past few weeks. You opened your mouth instantly and Hotch took over control, his mouth moving against yours, making you shiver.

“It’s been way too long,” you whined, tilting your head back when he kissed you. The tall man hummed, pulling you against him. Your hands wandered up to the back of his neck, feeling the softness of his hair there.

“Wanted to have you in my bed at least once between Idaho and now,” he confessed, his breath hot against your skin.

Your bodies were flush against each other. You could feel every single inch of him and it still was not enough. If you could just – and if he would just – fuck, you didn’t want to leave this room all night.

His belt buckle dug into your belly and you could feel his prominent erection through his slacks. You gasped, your fingers tightening on his hair and he growled, his hips snapping forward. The motion had you taking a step back and he followed immediately, not even the edge of the bed stopping him from urging closer to you.

And you did not want him to stop.

A knock on your door snapped you out of it. Hotch growled, his hands squeezing your ass and his teeth closing on your bottom lip. “Hotch,” you murmured, “Someone’s there.”

“If you’re quiet enough, they’ll leave,” he whispered hotly against you. His fingertips swiped over your panties and there was no mistaking how wet you already were. Hotch seemed to think so, too because when another knock came, his fingers hooked your panties to the side.

“Aaron,” you gasped, gently pulling away from him. That seemed to get to him because he took one long step away from you, your body instantly missing him. He looked just as affected as you felt. His hair was a mess, his lips looked so fucking kissable and there was the outline of his cock. The mere sight of it made you want to get on your knees.

But this was not the time and both of you knew it.

Another insistent knock at the door had you move as fast as lightning.

“Bathroom,” you brought out and Hotch nodded, looking like he was back to his no-nonsense self.

In a hurry, you pulled your dress down, rubbing your palm over your mouth and trying your best to look like you weren’t just the most turned-on you had been for weeks.

You opened the door with a flourish only to be faced with an impatient Penelope who took you in with wide eyes.

“Honey you are flowing!” she said, way too loudly, way too happy and way too –

“How many drinks have you had?” you asked, eyeing the half-empty cocktail glass in her hand. It had not one, not two but three colourful umbrellas in there.

“Oh, that doesn’t matter now when they’re so tasty,” she waved off, “What is more important is how you managed to look this good. It's unfair, really, here I am trying on dress after dress and do you know how many hairclips I went through to find the right one and then here you are, looking like,“ she gasped as if she had just had one of her genius ideas. Leaning forward conspiratorially, she stage-whispered, “Were you just masturbating?”

“Oh my god no,” you protested instantly, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks, “Why – why would you say something like that?”

“Cause you look like you just had the best time,” she wriggled her eyebrows, “And I speak from experience.”

“Garcia,” Hotch warned from somewhere behind you and you wondered how he had gotten himself in control on such short notice, “I don’t think that line of thought is appropriate.”

“Of course, sir, I apologize,” she didn’t miss a beat, her voice as happy as always. At least three drinks, you thought, this is no-inhibitions-Penelope. “Now are you two ready or not? I have got a hunk of a man waiting for me in the lobby and I won’t forgive either of you if we miss the first round.”

*

Vegas was everything everyone had always made it out to be.

Just much louder.

Much brighter.

Much more crowded.

The bright lights made the entire street seem like a theme park and you stared in wonder at all the hotels, casinos and bars and their very colourful neon advertisements. Reid was next to you, not paying attention to any of it, and you wondered how he, with all his peculiarities, experienced childhood in the city of sin.

“You would be surprised how much quieter it is if you just never go here.”

Your confusion must have translated onto your face because the young man grinned. “Everybody asks the same thing when they realize where I grew up,” he shrugged, “Figured I’d save you the trouble.”

Derek called him from up front. You noted with a smile that his arm was already around Penelope who gazed up at him with the love-dovey look she got around him. Reid followed his call, picking up his step to catch up with them and you smiled, watching as they laughed and bantered.

Hotch was next to you now, wearing slacks and a dark grey dress shirt. You didn’t even know he owned one. But now he was wearing it, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows and it did things to you. Things you tried not to make too obvious because the night was young still and if you were already this wet you didn’t want to think of the state of your panties in a few hours.

“Have you ever been to Vegas?” you asked him instead, trying to sound as casual as possible.

His eyes reflected the colourful lights. “There were a few cases that took us here,” he confirmed, “Though we did not make it a habit to stay here longer.”

“Why now?” you pried.

His face turned towards you, the shining lights of the strip making his profile seem even sharper. Dark eyes met yours.

“I don’t know,” he said softly, his hand brushing against yours as you crossed the street, “It felt like we, like the team, needed some time to recharge.”

*

“Truth or dare?”

A glance around the group let you know that, much like in high school, there was really only one answer that would be accepted.  

“Dare,” you decided, your heart pounding in your chest. Emily’s broad grin did not ease your discomfort.

“I dare you to fuck Officer Greggs over there,” she revealed, nodding to the man who stood at the bar, “He has been eyeing you all night.”

“Fuck him?” Morgan echoed, his arm still thrown around a very giddy Penelope, “Now that’s a lot to ask, isn’t it?”

“What? He’s a good-looking man,” Emily defended her choice, “And it’s obviously not about actually fucking him. It’s about seeing if she could.”

“If she wanted to,” JJ added with a determined nod, her faked sobriety betrayed by the way her eyes were already half-lidded and how her hands did most of the talking for her.

Rossi looked totally unimpressed if amused, and Hotch … Hotch looked just unimpressed.

A flash of excitement coursed through you at the possibility that he was maybe jealous.

“Alright,” you heard yourself say, taking a last sip from your glass, “Wish me luck.”

“In that dress, you don’t need luck,” Morgan joked and you laughed, feeling more and more confident. You turned sideways, trying to make your way out between Hotch’s and Garcia’s chairs. It was a tight fit and, sure, you could have taken the easier route. But you were buzzed enough to want to have Hotch close. And to see how he eyed you up close.

Which he did.

He was sitting in his chair, legs spread wider than normal and your eyes fell to his hand, laying on his thigh. Your knee bumped into his thigh and you could see his fingers twitch, the Rolex on his wrist glinting in the light.

You bit the inside of your cheek trying to get yourself to move. After all, you had a dare to fulfil. Or at least attempt to fulfil.

“Have fun!” JJ sing-songed behind you and you threw her a look that had everyone laughing. Except for Hotch.

The music was loud and the place was crowded. Much like the rest of the city on a Friday night. Yet, it did not take long for you to spot Officer Greggs. Probably because he wanted to be spotted.

He was standing at the bar with a few of his colleagues you recognized from work over the last few days. It was a direct line of sight from you to him and when he raised his glass to you, you knew he had been waiting for this moment for a while. This was your chance.

Walking towards him, you made sure your dress did not ride up too much and that your hips could sway from side to side without stumbling in your heels. Despite this dress making you feel different, you were still not the self-assured, flirty woman of your wishful thinking.

But you also did not need to be.

“I was wonderin’ how long it’d take you to come and chat me up,” Greggs teased you with a grin, his colleagues subtly moving away. Interesting, you noted, that his interest really did not seem to be a secret at all in his team.

“Are you telling me I am late?” you laughed, leaning onto the bar next to him.

The tall man looked you over, his eyes lingering on the hem of your dress and your cleavage. (Much like Hotch earlier, but you tried to ignore that thought.) “I would never,” he drawled, taking a big swallow from his beer, “You are right on time, of course. Wouldn’t expect anything less.”

He shifted on his feet, closer to you, and you noted how his arm fell down, his hand landing on your hip. His touch was soft and warm and not necessarily unwelcome. Here was an attractive, kind-hearted man that was clearly interested in you. And yet all you could think about was Hotch.

As if on their own accord, your eyes shifted back to the group. There wasn’t a direct line of sight, too many people waking to and from, but in the rare moments where you could, you caught glimpses of Hotch.

And he was looking directly at you.

“You okay?”

Gregg’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Yeah,” you said, forcing yourself to look at him and giving him a smile, “Sorry, just got distracted there for a second.”

Your words – as fake as they sounded to your ears – seemed to seem genuine for him. His lips pulled up in a broad smile and his hand got a little heavier on your hip. “I – I was actually hoping we would get a few moments alone today,” he said, getting even closer to you, “You’re quite intriguing if I do say so myself.”

His nose was almost touching yours which meant his mouth was almost touching yours and suddenly you had the question pop up in your head what the fuck you were doing here. You were not about to fuck Officer Greggs. Hell, you didn’t even want to. You wanted one man and one man only and if that did not work out then you at least wanted to spend the night with your colleagues having fun.

“I, uh, I’m gonna be right back,” you excused yourself, vaguely motioning to the direction of the bathroom, “Too many margaritas.”

He nodded, his eyes still fixed on your lips and you took a few steps backwards before turning around and hurrying through the crowd. Okay, here was the plan: Make your way to the bathroom, catch your breath for a few minutes, then return to the team and casually convince them to switch to another bar and enjoy the evening and not make your desire for Hotch too obvious.

You were almost by the bathroom when someone stepped right in front of you. For the first split second, you thought it was a mistake. Someone crossing your path and simply not seeing you. But when they did not move, their chest right against yours, you looked up, ready to be offended.

But the words died on your tongue because it was not just anyone. It was Hotch.

He was looming over you, brows pulled together, lips in a straight line, and he did not look happy in the slightest. His fists were clenched, the veins stood out and you shifted much like Greggs earlier. Only now you were turned on.

“You are not going to fuck Officer Greggs.”

You hadn’t planned on it.

But there was something in his eyes that was just too tempting to play with.

“I’m not?” you asked instead, playing innocent.

“No,” he took a step closer, “You’re not.”

Your chest heaved and his eyes landed on your chest. For just the briefest of seconds, you could see his tongue dart out, smoothing over his lower lip and you wished he would just kiss you. You gulped. Shit, why didn’t he just kiss you?

Instead, he leaned ever closer, his breath washing over your face just as the scent of his cologne.  

“If you land in anyone’s bed tonight, it’s mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your ear and goosebumps erupting all over your skin. You knew he noticed when he ran a single finger down the back of your neck, his face lowering so his nose brushed over your neck. “If any man is going to fuck you, it is going to be me. Isn’t that right?”

You gasped, your heart racing in your chest.

“I asked you something,” he reminded you, his hand brushing over your ass, “Don’t you want to answer me?”

“Yes, sir,” the words tasted on your tongue like honey, “I – you’re right.”

“What am I right about?” he asked, “Be a good girl and use your words.”

Your eyes fluttered and you found yourself reaching out, your hand landing loosely on his hip. His belt. Before you knew what you were doing, one of your fingers hooked into his belt loops, tugging him closer.

“You’re the only one who gets to fuck me,” you breathed out.

“Good girl,” he said. And hearing him say it, his voice deep and satisfied, did things to you you would never ever admit when asked about. You squeezed your legs together, shuffling closer to him so your body was flush against his.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, his mouth brushing over your jaw. The dimmed light and the massive crowd kept you relatively sheltered but you were more than aware that your teammate – or Officer Greggs – could spot you at any moment.

And so, apparently, was Hotch.

“Here’s what we’re going to do,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your skin, “You are going outside. I will go to the team and say I saw you leaving with Greggs,” his voice dripped with venom at the other mas name, “And then I will excuse myself for the night. We will take a car back to the hotel and then I will fuck you so good the only word you can say is my name.”

Fuck, was this really happening?

“Understood?”

You nodded, swallowing heavily as you looked at him with wide eyes. He looked at you, dark eyes on yours and then he leant forward and kissed you. Hard.

His teeth clashed against yours, his tongue licking into your mouth and you felt hot and cold at the same time. Everything was tingling from your head to your tiptoes everything was screaming for him.

“I've never wanted anyone to fuck me this badly,” you admitted, completely out of breath, “Please, Hotch –“

“It’s Sir,” he corrected you sternly, “After I saw you flirting with that boy, it’s Sir.”  

“Yes, Sir,” the words slipped off your tongue too easily, “Please, I –“

“Patience,” he warned you, dropping a small kiss to the spot under your ear. It was a gesture that filled you with affection but there was something about the way his eyes did not meet yours when he pulled away that let you know that kiss was not only for you. You turned your head, following his gaze, and found Officer Greggs staring at you. There was a shadow of disappointment on his face before he turned away, acting like he had not seen you at all.

Hotch’s hand on your neck slipped down to your back, sitting low enough that his fingers could fan out over your butt.

“Alright,” he muttered, “Let’s go.”

*

If anyone had ever told you, that you would be sitting on a bed in a hotel room in Las Vegas, wearing the shortest dress you ever owned and waiting for Hotch to join you, you would have declared them insane. But that was exactly what you were doing now. You had slipped off your heels, sitting cross-legged against the giant pillows as he had paced through the room, switching his phone off, locking the door and putting out the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the handle. It might have been mundane acts by themselves but there was something about how he did it all with such precision, like he was taking care of everything before he could take care of you and it turned you on more than it should.

Your encounters in the past had all been very spontaneous, announcing themselves minutes before something happened between you two. This was different. You had had a whole car and elevator ride before you reached the bed and even now there were things to take care of. You had been scared that maybe it would be awkward, that you did not have anything to talk about.

But you were proven wrong because while there was silence between the two of you, it was not the uncomfortable kind. He had always touched you, subtle but reassuring. Hotch had had his hand on your bare knee for the entire ride, his fingers steadily brushing circles into your skin while he made small talk with the driver like it was the most natural thing in the world. In the elevator his hand had found its place on your upper back, not as but seeing as your skin was not covered by the dress there, it felt much more intimate.

And now he had prepared everything so you would remain undisturbed for the entire night which excited you more than words could describe. But it also terrified you. You took a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves. Hotch stood at the end of the bed, his eyes mustering you up and down. You were so nervous, you did not dare to move a muscle.

This was happening, this was really happening.

“Come here,” he said softly. It was not an instruction but you followed it as one, crawling to the end of the bed until you were kneeling up. Your heart was racing in your chest, the slick between your legs too prominent to ignore. And Hotch was right in front of you, mustering you with serious eyes.

“Do you remember what I told you in the car?” he checked in, his finger holding your chin, “If you want to stop –“

“Tap your thigh three times,” you finished his sentence.

“And the safe word?”

“Iceberg.”

His lips quirked up in a pleased smile as he tilted your chin up.

“Good girl,” he leant forwards, his lips meeting yours and you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to lean completely into him.

His other hand cupped your cheek, keeping you in place as his teeth tugged on your bottom lip and you hasped, feeling a shudder run through your entire body.

You could not stop the whine that escaped you when he pulled away from you but a stern look from him had you silent again. Silent and very very horny.

“There are so many things I want to do to you,” he said, almost conversationally as he unbuttoned his shirt. Your eyes fixated on his hands and how big they looked on the tiny buttons. Aaron Hotchner was not a small man. He was broad in an unexpected kind of way, solid. Not as defined muscles as Morgan was or as lithe as Reid, no. Aaron Hotchner was a category of his own.  

“Suck my cock under the desk, fuck you in that elevator, have you hump the corner of my desk till you come, the list goes on,” he continued while shrugging out of his dress shirt, leaving him only in the white undershirt, “haven’t really decided on one yet.”

You only noticed you were holding your breath when he approached you again. He tilted your head to the side, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, “Maybe we should try them all out. What do you say? Want to be a little whore for me?”

“God please yes,” you gasped, your lips brushing over the pad of his thumb. He hummed, his finger pressing further into your mouth and he did not even need to say anything for your lips to close around his digit, swirling your tongue around his thumb and sucking.

He hummed, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and you opened your mouth for him, trying to stick out your tongue so he could give you more. But he didn’t, instead pulling his thumb away, leaving a wet trail down to your chin where he gripped it.

“Not so fast,” he chuckled, his hands pulling you in again for a kiss. His mouth opened against yours and you opened yours for him, his tongue tangling with yours. He tasted of whiskey and that mint that Morgan had passed around. “We can go slow,” he said, his nose bumping against yours, “We have time.”

Something, some teeny tiny voice in your brain, piped up in doubt. You only have tonight to impress him, that voice squeaked, If you fail tonight, you will never have the chance again. Which was a ridiculous thought to have when he was towering over you, looking like he was about to devour you. And fuck, did you want to be devoured.

“First, I am going to have you suck my cock, I think,” he mused, “I feel like your mouth always needs something to suck on, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” you replied, shuffling off the bed. His hand left your chin slowly, his knuckles brushing down your cleavage and belly before his arm fell to his side.

You watched as he sat on the side of the bed and he did not even have to say anything for you to sink to your knees. The carpet was soft on your skin. Still, he held up his jacket in a silent offering, his eyes warm and soft. He was taking care of you.

When you shook your head, the soft look disappeared again as he nodded in understanding. The jacket landed on the end of the bed and when he looked at you again, his eyes were dark, staring directly into your soul.

Being looked at like that made your breath come quicker and your pussy wetter. Especially, when he spread his legs so all you could see, all you could focus on, was the bulge right in front of your face.  

Like you said, Hotch wasn’t a small man by any means and there was something so sexy about him acting like he knew it. He knew he was big, he knew he was in charge and he knew what it did to you when he unzipped his pants and freed his cock.

“Patient,” he noted, clearly pleased, “Good girl.”

You smiled, his praise doing something with you. Something you were not ready to admit yet, even though it was already the running joke in the BAU that you wanted to impress him. (Not as your boss though, as most people presumed, but as the man that made you cry on his cock.)

“Here you go,” he said, his hand wrapped around his shaft and pumped it a few times. Drops of precome beaded at the tip, looking ready for you to lick them right off. If you focussed enough, you could already taste him. “Open wide.”

You did, opening your mouth as wide as you could, and sticking out your tongue. Hotch hummed, a deep sound from his chest. His tip landed on your tongue and you waited, frowning when he did not move. But then he did it again. And again.

He slapped his cock on your tongue a few times and you could feel the drool collecting on the tip of your tongue, threatening to trail down your chin. But you did not lose his gaze, did not move from your spot. Which was exactly what he wanted.

“Fuck, you’re good for me,” he breathed, “So fucking good for me, aren’t you?”

You nodded eagerly, his cock landing on your cheek instead. But Hotch didn’t seem to mind. His other hand found the back of your head, pulling you closer. You leaned forward as he wanted, closing your eyes when he lifted his cock onto your face. Heat rose into your cheeks when you realized what he was doing, his shaft measuring against your face. It made you feel filthy and a little embarrassed but also so incredibly turned on.

Your mouth was still open, your tongue and he was heavy against your face. You resisted the temptation to run your tongue along the underside. You wanted to be good for him.

“Go on,” he said, “Drool for me.”

With your mouth open and tongue out, it was impossible to make a sound and yet, you managed to produce the tiniest whimper. You could feel the drop forming before it landed on your chin trailing down before you could feel it between your tits.

You froze, wondering if it was enough for him, if you should wait a little longer, if you could wait a little longer before you were getting too desperate. His cock disappeared before finally pushing on your tongue and inside your mouth.

You took a deep breath then, noting how he already pushed himself to the back of your throat. His thrusts were slow and measured but also testing clearly your limits. There was nothing careful or shallow about his movements, like he knew exactly how much you could take, how much he wanted you to take. And you knew you would take however much he wanted from you.

He was heavy on your tongue and tasted salty. You managed to swallow around him once, your throat already protesting. You gagged around him, your eyes stinging with tears as you tried to regain your composure because damn you if you weren’t going to try your best.

Hotch paused his movements, his cock halfway down your throat. His brows were pulled together and he looked at you, clearly trying to see whether you wanted to take the chance to tap his thighs.

You relaxed your throat, making it a point to meet his gaze.

 “Are those pretty tears for me?” he asked softly, his free hand brushing over your cheeks, “And I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.”

Fuck.

“You good?”

“Hngh,” you tried to nod, forcing yourself to swallow around him. He tilted his head back, a groan leaving his throat and you could see his jugular move. You swallowed around him again in a desperate attempt to see him lose composure like that again. His hips twitched, moving even farther inside you and you gagged. Hotch paused but did not pull away.

“You can take it,” he said sternly, “I know you can.”

You remained silent, trying to convey that you knew with your eyes. Your jaw was aching already and your pussy wept. His hips began to move more and more, his large hand on the back of your head pushing and pulling you this and that way. You relaxed, letting him use you like a toy (and why did that turn you on as much as it did?), occasionally running your tongue over the underside of his cock.

He was silent, not saying much but you could feel his eyes on you. You glanced upwards, finding him looking down at you, almost as if he was assessing you. Like he was determining whether you did a good job or not and that, embarrassing as it was, made you even wetter.

There was that furrow between his brows again and his lips were pressed tightly together. If you did not know any better, you would have suspected him to be displeased, but you did know better. Because his cock was twitching on your tongue and his chest rumbled.

You leant forward again, your nose almost touching his belly. Almost.

Frustration grew in you and you pulled away.

But before you could pull off completely, his hand on your head stopped you. “You can take me deeper,” he stated. It wasn’t a question but you knew he gave the pause to give the option to say no.

You did not say anything.

His hand pushed you down on his crotch, his cock reaching impossibly deep and you gagged. You did not pull away this time and he did not let you. Rather, you made an effort to breathe through your nose, to focus on the weight of him on your tongue.

Your hands twitched with the knowledge that you could tap his thigh anytime. Yet you chose not to. Your nose touched his belly, his cock too large to let you smile in triumph.

Then, his other hand reached around your front and he leant forward. At first, you thought he was cupping your jaw or something to try and get you to open wider. But his hand went lower. To your throat.

Your eyes widened in shock when his big hand closed around your throat, not cutting off any air but still tight enough to feel his pressure. And enough to feel the bulge he formed in your throat.

He groaned.

“I could jerk myself off just like that,” he commented, sounding way too unaffected for your liking, “And you would let me, wouldn’t you?”

You made a sound at the back of your throat, feeling the movement protest against the grip his hand had on you.

The power he held over you had you squeezing your thighs.

“I am not coming down your throat,” he said, his thumb rubbing over the tip of him, “Not this time.”

With that, he pulled away from you, his hand on the back of your head gently pulling you back. Immediately, you gasped for breath, trying to even your breathing while not taking your eyes off him.

Hotch stood up, a twinkle in his eyes when he undid the first few buttons of his shirt. “Get up on the bed,” he instructed, “Lose the clothes.”

At record speed, you slipped out of the dress and out of your underwear. Catching a glimpse of the wet patch on your panties, you forced yourself not to be ashamed of it. By now, it was a safe bet to assume that he knew the kind of effect he had on you.

The sheets felt cool and soft under your skin and you sat down and scooted back. Hotch eyed you like prey, your heart skipping a beat when you watched as he wrapped his hand around himself again, pumping while you got comfortable.

When your back settled against the pillows, he moved too.

“Good girl,” he murmured before leaning forward and climbing onto the bed.

You laid back, allowing him to come to rest above you. His breath fanned over your crotch and your belly, his lips ghosting over the valley between your breasts and up your throat until they met yours.

You hummed, trying to get up on your elbows to get closer to him. His lips were soft but dominant, his hand brushing over your cheek before settling right under your jaw.

The man above you sat up, straddling your hips. His hand was around your throat, loosely wrapped around and you smiled, already knowing what. You opened your mouth, sticking out your tongue and being rewarded by the dark smile on his lips.

“Such a good little whore,” he groaned before he spit right into your mouth, “Such a good little cocksleeve.”

Swallowing greedily, you opened your mouth again, showing him that nothing was left.

The feeling of his cock against your folds was what made your composure break. Pleasure was flowing through your every vein and you could feel your pussy pulse, feeling way too empty with him rubbing his tip over your clit.

“Sir, please,” you whined, trying to thrust your hips up, wanting to get just that little bit of friction more, “I – I need it.”

“Oh, I know exactly what it is that you need,” he stated when he slowly pushed forward, his cock splitting your walls, “You need me to work my cock in that tight pussy of yours and then fill you up until you are nothing but dripping in my come.”

You took a deep breath, relishing in the stretch he caused and the feelings of your walls opening up for him. And his words did the rest. You were so wet,

Angling up your knees, you wrapped your legs around his broad hips. It allowed him to push even deeper and you both moaned. Your thighs were already aching but your pussy fluttered around how full you were.

He began to move, slow at first before he found his bearings. His forearms caged in your head and he was right above you, surrounding you so completely while his cock pushed deeper and deeper. All you could see, all you could smell, all you could feel, was him.

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed, your fingertips running over his jaw, “Please come in me.”

“Good girl,” he chuckled, a little out of breath, his lips pressing against your temple, “Making such smart choices today.”

Not having the time to think about what he could possibly mean, you tilted your head back, allowing him to press a slow kiss to your neck. It was warm and wet and made your entire body shiver.

“Anytime you make a smart choice, I reward you, how does that sound?”

You could not answer, his cock hitting a spot inside you that made you see stars.

“Already too cockdumb for me, I see,” he murmured, his teeth scratching over your skin, “But that’s okay because this? This is a reward. You were such a smart girl today, not letting Greggs fuck you. Because you know only I can fuck you right, right?”

You whimpered, your hardened nipples brushing against the fabric of his shirt and you arched your back, trying to get him to be closer, deeper, faster.

His hips snapped against you, pinning yours to the mattress and you gasped at how deep he went. The weight of his body on yours meant you could not move, entirely at his mercy. Your walls clamped around him, the knot in your abdomen getting tighter and tighter with the feeling of his cock moving and his quiet groans in your ear.

“Next time you’re being a good girl for me, I will fill you up on the jet,” he hissed, “I will have you sit on my cock before we’re even in the air and you only get to come once we’re back on land. I don’t care what the others will think,” his fingers snuck to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves just how you needed it, “Let’s hope it won’t be Alaska or I will have an overstimulated mess sobbing on my cock.”

You gasped, hands flexing on his shoulders. Images filled your head. Of you, wearing one of your cutest office dresses that had the perfect length to conceal how he was buried inside you. Or how he would just so casually reach over to your seat, between your thighs, working your clit until you left a wet mess on the leather seat. The thought turned you on more than it should, the urge to keep quiet so you would not get caught being fucked by your boss.

And Hotch could sense what you were thinking. “Looks like someone likes that idea,” he mocked you, “Your pussy practically choked me. Are you that desperate for the cock of an old man? Of your boss? You really just want to be filled up every chance you have, hm?”

You nodded, eyes tearing up at the sheer pleasure of it all.

“Yes, Sir,” you gasped out, trying to move your hips against him, though you knew it was an impossible feat, “Wanna – wanna be your whore so bad.”

“You already are,” he cooed, kissing you swiftly while his hips moved against yours again and again, “And you can be my good girl too if you come on my cock right now.”

Aaron Hotchner had to be a magician because there was no other explanation for how your body just listened to him. Every single muscle you were aware of tensed as the knot in your abdomen grew tighter and tighter before it felt like it was pulled apart, pleasure erupting everywhere. You buried your face in his neck, muffling your moan and breathing in his familiar scent.

Hotch did not slow his pace. His cock kept working in and out of you, driving you to the edge of madness. With you coming around him, you became even more aware of how big he was inside you. It was like he was pushing the air out of your lungs and you gasped, trying to gather your bearings when all you could feel was

He panted, his movements picking up in speed and you wrapped your legs tighter around him, pulling him inside you until he stilled. The deep groan he let out rumbled in his chest and you could feel it, feel it in the way he was pressed right up against you, feel it in the way his head sunk into the crook of your neck, feel it in the way, his entire body rested on yours.

There was something about feeling his come pump inside of you, feeling his cock twitch and feeling so full of him, that struck you with the sudden realization that you would really let this man do anything to you. The trust you had in him, in the way he would take care of you, would not be so easily broken.

Which meant your heart was that much more breakable.

Your body calmed down, feeling completely weightless even with him on top of you. Your eyes fluttered closed when you felt him shift, rolling you both around until you were on top of him. His cock was still inside you plugging you up and you smiled when you felt him draw lined over your back.

“That okay?” he asked, his voice deep and rumbly, “Do you need anything?”

You shook your head before resting your cheek on his chest. “Just this,” you murmured, “Just this please.”

“Good girl,” he praised you with a gentle smile, kissing the top of your head, “Rest, sweetheart. You deserve it.”

*

“What is it?” you shot up in bed, panic and adrenaline pumping through your blood. It took you a moment to remember that you were not supposed to be alone in this room and that the figure moving next to you was none other than Aaron. He was safe. He was supposed to be here.

Ears ringing, you threw a look on your side of the bed, trying to find if your phone was lit up because there was another case.

Please not, ran through our brain, Please let me have him this close just for a little longer.

But it was not your phone that was ringing.

“Shit, sorry,” you could hear Hotch rise in the dark, his body twisting the blanket this and that way as he leaned over to his night table. Something clattered and you could see a brightly lit display before it disappeared behind Hotch’s profile.

“Hey, buddy!”

You blinked.

“Yeah, we got the bad guy,” his voice was oddly soft, “Did Aunt Jess take to the – she did? That is awesome, you will have to tell me all about it.”

When you realized he was talking to his son (you tried to blame the very late/early time for this), your heart melted. The way his voice was deep and groggy but you could hear the love in it, the affection. There were only a handful of times you had heard him talk like that and they had all been when he was talking to or about Jack.

Before you knew it, he had hung up, his phone screen going dark and your body instantly yearning back for that deep slumber you had just been in.

“Sorry, I usually have it on loud to make sure I wake up. “ To make sure I don’t miss his calls.

“No worries, it’s … it's actually quite sweet,” you mumbled, glad for the darkness so he could not see just how affected you were.

“Sweet?” he echoed and you didn’t need to see him to know he was grinning, “I was expecting a lot of adjectives but not sweet.”

“It’s the dichotomy of man,” you replied groggily, very aware of the heat of his body right next to you, “Stern Hotch and Sweet Hotch.”

His hand found yours in the dark and your heart skipped a beat when he pulled it up to his lips. It felt way too intimate but it felt right. Maybe because it was dark it felt like you could allow yourself to enjoy the closeness. Like you could pretend you were living in some alternate universe where he was

“You’ve only seen stern Hotch, then, I presume,” he joked.

“Sexy Hotchner and stern Hotchner,” you added, pulling your hand back to your chest and thus his arm around you as you settled on your side, “Work Hotchner and Bed Hotchner.”

“Then maybe it is time you get to see Sweet Hotchner,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing over your shoulder. Your hand tightened around his and you snuggled back into him, thinking that any embarrassment that might ensue from this intimate embrace could be a problem for future you.

“How do I get to meet Sweet Hotchner?” you yawned, barely awake, “Do I have to ask Jack for some tips?”

“That or you could go on a date with me,” he said, his voice just as groggy, “I heard I am supposed to be my most charming self when on a date.”

Yup, definitely a problem for future you.

#may answers #maybege writes #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #smut

[libraryofloveletters]

Say Cheese

Mick Schumacher x Fem!Reader

Warnings: both mick and angie have no patience, reader is so over it, the pains that are family photos, matching outfits, boat loads of patience needed, a cute moment in the end.

Word Count: 576

Author's Note: it's not mick without angie and it's not a blurb with the two of them together.

--

Angie, much like her human father, hated to sit still for photos. Imagine the struggle to get both Schumachers to sit for a holiday card. 

Neither of them wanted to sit still.

Angie was running circles around the living room. Her little red and black flannel neck bandana bounced over her thick fur as she ran. Mick, who wasn't looking too overjoyed himself, was sitting on the couch, his flannel shirt wrinkled now.

"Can you get her, Mick?" You asked your boyfriend, slowly losing your patience.

It was your idea after all, suggesting you 3 take a family photo for his mom and so you could have something for the holiday cards. It would be rather weird if you just gave up.

Mick huffs, calling out to Angie. The dog comes running over to Mick, rubbing herself against his legs as he sat on the floor with her. "Hurry up, she's gonna get impatient." He tells you.

You bite back the urge to roll your eyes. "You sure she's the only impatient one?"

Mick cracks a smile, "like father, like daughter."

You stood in front of the two of them, Mick and Angie in front of the Christmas tree as he tried to fix her bandana.

"Smile!" You tell him, somehow that gets Angie to sit still for one second but Mick wasn't looking at the camera. When Mick finally turns, Angie's attention shifts, licking the man's cheek instead.

"Angie!" He groans, wiping off his cheek with the sleeve of your shirt.

You figured you'd try your luck before they both got flustered and ran off. You propped the phone up on the coffee table, setting it to record before smoothing your dress, red to match with Angie and Mick.

The puppy was between the two of you, Angie wagging her tail around, excited about all the attention on her for a moment. Both of you have got your arms over her, smiling at each other.

Mick's attention drops for a moment, trying to fix his shirt and as soon as he moves his hand, Angie goes running off.

"Well, we aren't getting her back, are we?" You asked him and he shook his head, pulling you into his side. The two of you stay for a moment, smiling at each other, almost as if you had forgotten all about the camera on the table.

Angie had found her spot by the fireplace when everyone settled, curled up as you and Mick did the same on the couch. He was watching reruns of some old German show on tv while you attempted to get a good screenshot of you three.

There were a few cute ones of you and Mick already but the ones with Angie took a bit more finesse.

Eventually, you manage to find a good one amidst the madness; you two looking at each other, big smiles on your faces with your arms over Angie, who by some miracle, was looking at the camera.

"Look," you tell him, showing him your phone. Mick smiles in approval, "yeah, that's the one."

"Thought so too," you smiled back at him, his lips pressed to yours before he turned back to the tv.

#holiday extravaganza blurbs 23 #mick schumacher #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #mick schumacher x y/n #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 blurb

[pillow-anime-talk]

getting caught by their team.

request: can i request generation of miracles + kagami getting caught by their teams kissing their s/o? if its too many characters it can be just midorima, akashi and kise, tysm!

# tags: headcanons; current relationships; romance; light comedy; huge fluff; kisses; shy!boys; teams; sfw

includes: gender neutral reader ft. taiga kagami, tetsuya kuroko, seijuurou akashi, ryouta kise, atsushi murasakibara, shintarou midorima, aomine daiki & satsuki momoi {knb}

author’s note: hope you like it!

— TAIGA

↘ That was before going to the gym because you accompanied your boyfriend on the way to training. At the same time you tiptoed to reach Taiga’s lips, Seirin Captain opened the huge, heavy, gray door and frowned at you two. Immediately Junpei yelled at your partner that he was late and that he had to do a few extra laps around the court as a punishment.

↘ Of course, all this could not miss the huge blushes on the tall basketball player’s face, as well as a few words that your boyfriend tried to convey – unfortunately to no avail due to his tendency to stutter in stressful, intimate moments.

— TETSUYA

↘ That day you thought you were alone in class (and whole school); it was Thursday afternoon and you finished your lessons twenty minutes ago. However, you asked your boyfriend to help you with something before he goes to meet his friends at the burger bar. Of course, Tetsuya was really glad to start explaining matrices and their multiplication to you. You smiled at each other every now and then, and even allowed yourself a little kiss from time to time.

↘ At one point, when your lips met again in a cute, this time a bit longer kiss, the classroom door opened with a loud bang, and as soon as you stepped away from each other, you noticed a few basketball team members. Unlike Kagami, however, Kuroko seemed to ignore his friends and only asked them for a few more minutes of privacy as he had not finished explaining today’s lesson to you. Your cheeks were as red as those of a few tall males, and you could have sworn you heard a sentence like, “Yeah, I’m sure kissing will help Y/N in math”.

— SEIJUUROU

↘ You loved going to the gallery with your boyfriend. Not only to buy clothes or food, but most of all because you could spend time together without his dad or friends and without your loved ones. It was your private time, your moment of rest, conversation and cold coffee/tea. Seijuurou loved to see you happy, and you loved your partner. Unfortunately, after a few hours of spending time together, you had to, as it always does, part up for a while. You had to come back home and clean the apartment.

↘ As is your habit, you said ‘Goodbye’ with a long, slightly wet kiss. Akashi touched your both cheeks, and you smiled with delight. Afterwards, you waved at him and promised you would call him as soon as you got home. In the meantime, your moment of weakness has been noticed by the rest of the Rakuzan team, who definitely won’t let their captain rest (just wait for it).

— RYOUTA

↘ Kise is one of the most affectionate and clingy people you and his entire basketball team know (poor boys...). So it’s no wonder that everyone around the tall blonde is used to his enormous feelings towards you, as well as loud words describing his feelings.

↘ No one is surprised that Ryouta kisses your sweet lips as a ‘Hello’, as a ‘Bye, bye’, for success in the match or exam, as a apology or to show his jealousy, happiness, sadness and regret. Kise really loves to kiss you; this is his favorite form of showing affection ‘cause he believes that each peck is unique and full of warm emotions. Especially kisses on the lips, which express great, sincere love.

— ATSUSHI

↘ Atsushi is not very effusive in his feelings. He shows his love in gifts or time spent together. Nevertheless, if the purple head uses another of the five love languages – touch and compliments – you will feel the best in the world. Murasakibara is one of the most precious and gentle people you know, believe me.

↘ So when your boyfriend decides to kiss you in public, know that this is a really big and beautiful moment. And if he does it in front of his team (even if he doesn’t do it on purpose), you can feel special. After that, of course, a few people tease the two of you, but such a fantastic moment is worth it all.

— SHINTAROU

↘ Three point shooter is so ‘lucky’ that whenever he gives you a kiss somewhere hidden, someone from his team notices it. Shintarou says it’s a bad fate, but you only laugh because of his blushes and then kith him on the forehead or nose to support and show him how much you love and appreciate him.

↘ This time it was exactly the same! That day you were in the park with your boyfriend, and he looked around the two of you. After a while, he found you were alone within a few hundred meters, so he leaned a bit towards your smiling face, and then gave you a short kiss right in the middle of your mouth. At the same time, the two of you heard a loud “Awhh, Shin-chan!” and you already knew it was happening to you once again.

— DAIKI

↘ On the one hand, Aomine never had a problem kissing you in public or next to his basketball team, but only when he felt like it and didn’t show his other face, which was... really cute and soft. So when his kisses weren’t filled with lust and speed, but with gentleness and pure feelings, it really bothered him that someone dared to interrupt your moment of intimacy and at the same time made his cheeks a disgustingly sweet blush.

↘ Just like now; when he fondly said ‘See you’ to you because your bus had arrived, his blood pressure immediately surged up when he heard Shoichi’s annoying voice shouting, “Oooh, how sweet! I didn’t know you this way, Aomine!”. He wanted to kill him soooo badly.

— SATSUKI

↘ Momoi is a very shy girl, although she doesn’t look like that. She loves hugging and holding your hand in public, but prefers kissing in some secluded place like her bedroom or your car. She’s a really fragile person and all kinds of jokes work very badly on her, even if it’s innocent words about how cute and funny she is.

↘ So when Aomine and a few other members of the Touou team caught you having a short but affectionate kiss on the bench while you were both having lunch... Satsuki almost passed out from the heat that caused her blush!

#— 🍓 #knb #knb headcanons #knb x reader #kuroko no basket #kuroko no basket headcanon #kuroko no basket x reader #kagami taiga x reader #kagami taiga headcanons #kuroko tetsuya x reader #kuroko tetsuya headcanons #akashi seijuro x reader #akashi seijuro headcanon #kise ryouta x reader #kise ryouta headcanons #midorima shintarou x reader #midorima shintarou headcanons #murasakibara atsushi x reader #murasakibara atsushi headcanons #aomine daiki x reader #aomine daiki headcanons #momoi satsuki x reader #momoi satsuki headcanons

[weird-is-life]

Home is whenever I'm with you

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: Spencer comes home to you after being away for a case for two weeks and all he wants is to hold you close

Warnings: use of y/n and pet names, fluff

Words: 0.7k Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar/spelling mistskes

It's been a long 2 weeks for Spencer. Chasing yet another unsub with the team for two weeks was not a fun at all.

So of course, Spencer couldn't wait to get home and he especially missed you. He doesn't call you, although he really wants to, it's really late and he doesn't want to wake you up, just so he can come over. He just sends you a text for you to see in the morning.

Everyone goes home straight from the airport. Spencer is so tired, that he can't wait to get into his bed.He steps into his apartment, slumps his bags next to the door and kicks off his shoes god knows where.

Only thing on his mind is sleep, so he doesn't even notice your shoes at the door. He probably wouldn't even notice you at all, if it wasn't for the TV ( yes, Spencer has TV, but only so you two can watch movies together and cuddle).

He has to take a step back to make sure, he isn't imagining you from the exhaustion. You are laying on the couch, seemingly asleep. After a few seconds, when he knows it's really you and he isn't going crazy, he walks to your side. He should have known, you'd come to his place, you said, you missed him way too much and that you couldn't wait to see him.

You are sleeping amd you look so peaceful as you quietly let out one breath after another. Spencer doesn't want to wake you up, when you look so cute. But he knows you hate sleeping on the couch and also he is a little selfish too, because he wants to have you in his bed, in his arms, snuggling you close all day. So yeah, he is definitely waking you up.

He softly shakes your shoulders and sweetly says your name, so you don't get scared. You are a light sleeper, so it doesn't take you long to wake up.

You slowly start to open your eyes and it takes you a good minute to register, that Spencer is home. But when you finally do, you literally jump into his arms. It's by some miracle, that you both don't end up on the ground.

"Spence, you're home!" you beam at him.

"Hi, sweetheart" he says, warmly looking at you. You are still holding onto him tightly, but he doesn't mind one bit.

"I missed you so much, please don't ever go away again for so long" you mumble into his chest. It makes Spencer's heart flutter.

"I missed you too, pretty girl. I wish, I didn't have to leave for so long, too" he says and gives you a kiss on top of your head.

You very unwillingly let go of your tight hug to look properly at him. You are glad to find out his pretty face as well as everything else is intact, because he told you, it was very tough to catch the unsub.

You must look like a lovesick fool, as you scan hus face, but you don't care at all, because Spencer looks exactly the same.

"Can I kiss you, because honestly?I might just die, if I don't" Spencer asks dramatically and it makes you giggle. And you instead of answering, kiss him. It's a sweet kiss, that says pretty much what you both are feeling. You are both panting and smiling so much much, when you pull apart.

"Should we go to sleep now, lovely?" he asks.

"Yeah" you get out, between the kisses you start to leave all over his face, " you smell nice, did you shower already?"

"Yeah, I took a shower before the flight. Now, come on, let's go to bed" he answers and pulls you up onto your legs. He quickly turns the TV off, pulls you to the bed and before you know it, he is snuggling you close to him under the sheets.

If Spencer had to choose one moment in his life, he'd choose this. You, in his arms after a long case is all he needs. He wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

"Goodnight, y/n, I love you."

"Night Spence, I love you more" you babble, mind heavy with sleep.

Yeah, this is definitely his happiest place.

-

-

-

Thank you so much for reading, hope you like it!

Have a great day!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfiction

[thatsrightice]

Rosie’s Riveters was the only aircraft to return from the mission to Münster on October 10, 1943 and it was no easy task getting home.

Blakely’s crew in 42-3393 Just-a-Snappin’ had to go through something similar on their return from the mission to Bremen as they had to drop out of formation and make the trek home by themselves. I think Blakely and the rest of his crew deserve a little bit of recognition too;

Bremen had the worst flak they’d ever seen. "There was so much solid flak, you could almost slice it like cake” said pilot Ev Blakely

Flak destroys the number four engine, left elevator, and stabilizer as well as cracks the nose sending shrapnel into the Bombardier and Navigator

They catch on fire, but their electrics are gone so they can’t use the fire extinguisher. The only way to put it out is to drop out of formation and head straight into a steep dive in hopes it blows it out, which Ev Blakely is miraculously able to do

Have to limp back well over 200 miles to get to base with a max speed of 120 mph (at 100 mph the aircraft would stall and drop out of the sky) and immediately watch the only other Fort near them explode in a ball of flames thanks to enemy fighters

Smashed shortwave radio forced Forky, the radio operator, to send out an SOS by touching two wires together and praying

They were a sitting duck for the enemy fighters as they limped back to base at a mere 120 mph (at 100 mph the aircraft would stall and drop out of the sky)

Compass was stuck so Crosby had to navigate using the position of the sun with near-constant course corrections

They are credited with taking out at least 11 enemy fighters on their way home but not without their own injuries. Three of their crew are seriously wounded, one has a three-inch hole in their stomach, half of one’s face was scalped, and the other had the entire lower half of their body crushed and bleeding

You know engine number four? Yeah, it’s on fire again so time for another dive and it’s a miracle it went out again

But now they’ve got to salvo literally everything out into the channel from the spent cartridges laying on the floor to their woolen flying clothes, including their boots

Their dinghies were shot to pieces by the German fighters (and Crosby accidentally pulled the emergency handle on the hatch in the nose) so landing in the water ain’t an option

Everyone who’s not flying goes to help the wounded, packing their wounds with their open parachutes and warming up the frozen morphine applicators (?) in their mouths

Now they’re coming in for a crash landing at a dummy UK base with literally zero control surfaces so Blakely and Kidd were piloting using pure strength. The rest of the crew go back to the waist and hold onto the injured men, like hold them to their chests, so that they aren’t further injured in the landing

Their brakes go out as they land and they’re sent careening into the only tree in the entire airfield, crushing the nose of the aircraft and sending tree branches and leaves through all of the windows and compartments (click for pics)

They just kind of sat there? Until someone came and was like “hey you need help?”

They want nothing more than something to eat but instead are stuck watching some officer count 1200 holes (no, not 800) before giving up because there’s too many

So now they had a hour long drive back to base, those who didn’t get sent to the hospital that is, only for the mess halls to be closed, all their stuff locked up in storage, and everyone looking at them like they were ghosts. But on the bright side, every man in the o-club tried to hand their drinks to them

Add-on:

In the end, 7 of her crew were injured and one fatally so. Most of the men would never fly another mission.

#I’d watch an entire documentary on this one crew #I freaking love this story with all my heart #BAMF Everett Blakely #Blakely’s crew is BAMF #Harry Crosby #everett blakely #james douglass #just-a-Snappin’ #42-3393 #b 17 flying fortress #a wing and a prayer #mission to Bremen #bremen #8 October 1943 #100th bomb group #masters of the air #mota #mota musings #justice for just-a-snappin’ #‘just-a-snappin at your heels’ is where the name came from #Crosby referred to her as three-nine-three #jack kidd #real mota #information

[mores0]

Shawn told Gus, long before it happened, that he was going to leave. And Gus was probably supportive, because they were both leaving in their own ways, it’s just that Gus wanted to go to college, while Shawn just wanted to- go. And Shawn’s life was kind of falling apart. Like, his parent’s got divorced, his mom left, and then he got arrested, which- yeah. That probably made things between Shawn and Henry go from bad to fucking- explosive, I’d imagine.

And so, that was it, they were both going to leave soon and who knows what after that. And they probably like, made a whole entire list of all the fun stupid things they wanted to together before then.

But then, like, a week later or so, there was someone tapping on Gus’s bedroom window, and it’s like- the middle of the night- so Gus startles awake and is like “oh shit.” And he forces himself to look outside the window anyways- and it’s just Shawn sitting there. And he glanced over at his clock and it was actually like 1:13 in the morning, so he’s half like “what the fuck Shawn?” And half concerned.

So he goes over to his window and opened it up and was like “Shawn, do you know what time it is? Why did you wake me up, what’s wrong?”

At first, Shawn couldn’t get anything out. But then he was just like “I’m leaving.”

And for a second, Gus thought that he was joking, but then he noticed that Shawn had his backpack with him, and his face was just- a mixture of sad, anxious, and desperate. So, yeah, this was for real. He wasn’t ready.

He wanted to say that- tell Shawn how he can’t leave before they finish their list, or he goes off to college, because- he wasn’t ready to let go of his best friend yet.

“But you’re going to get hungry.” Was what he ended up saying instead. Because, deep down, he knew that Shawn needed to leave. Shawn was struggling, has been for a long time, and it was killing him to see, because he’s the only one that does. And if Shawn needed to run off to- find himself or something to be happy again- then he’ll have Shawn’s back, because he wanted his friend to be happy again above all else.

But back to the present, Shawn just kind of shrugged which wasn’t acceptable, was it? So he forced Shawn to get inside, and they both snuck into the kitchen where Gus did his best to pack him a sandwich as well as some juice when he realized that he might get thirsty too, without waking his family up.

And then they were both standing at the door- and this was really it. They might not ever see each other again after this, and the thought made Gus’s eyes well up- but he wasn’t going to cry- was what he kept repeating in his head. But then Shawn pulled him into the tightest hug that anyone’s ever given him, and Shawn’s back was trembling and- fuck- now he might actually cry.

But, by some miracle, he didn’t, and they said their goodbyes, with Shawn promising to send postcards, before leaving. Then Gus went back to his room where he laid face down in bed and just- let everything out.

14 years later, they found the fucking list while looking through Gus’s old stuff, and Shawn was like “Oh, we have to do it.” So they did, and it was some of the most fun that they had, like, ever. Even if they couldn’t do some of the stuff on it because the places just- didn’t exist anymore.

And, once it was getting late and they began to settle down, Shawn started to talk about how back when they were teenagers, Gus was what kept him going, really. Which confused Gus a bit, why he was bringing that up now, but he nodded anyways.

But then Shawn continued, telling him how when he left, he just wanted to- disappear. So doing this- Psych, and everything else now felt like getting a second chance at life, and how- indescribably happy he was that they were. And then Shawn thanked him.

And he cried. And Shawn teased him at first, but a few moments later, he began to tear up too, so. Checkmate.

And that’s when Gus knew that he was going to stay.

_________

Okay, so, I know that this is different from the posts I usually make, but that’s because I’ve been trying to write this as an actual fanfiction for like- the past month, but writers block has been killing me and it just wasn’t turning out, so I decided to just write it on Tumblr as a weird mix between fanfic and rambling, because I just wanted to get it out of my brain. And, it wasn’t as detailed as I wanted it to be, but whatever I guess. Idk if this was any good, but I hope you enjoyed reading anyways, have a great day (:

#shawn spencer #burton guster #burton gus guster #henry spencer #psych #psych tv #🍍 #fanfiction

[wordsinhaled]

augh, y'all. The Ball episode is so lovely?? ?? it is just the most episode. i'm emotional about it so you're gonna hear about it.

okay, it's the way crowley is indignant that anyone could ever suggest anything against aziraphale's pureness of heart, even while knowing aziraphale's a bit of a bastard and finding that wonderful about him. and his vehement objection that he'd ever relegate aziraphale to anything less than the most important person in his life. the way crowley is like "oh. i have had. a Realization," after talking to nina, and he has to go and get day-drunk to deal with the enormity of it, and he asks aziraphale if he wants a glass, probably thinking - maybe aziraphale will sit with him and maybe they'll Talk About It. and... "smitten, I believe."

and the way the whole time after his conversation with nina crowley's just subtly different around aziraphale from then on - watching him just a tiny little bit differently, partially like he just can't look away and partially like the realization is sinking in, "this is actually the person who's walking around with my heart and doesn't know it, and i actually have to grapple with that" - you know??? the way crowley's always marveling at aziraphale from beside him - "can i watch?" and then the way aziraphale ushers crowley out of the bookshop so he can make his preparations. the sweeping music while aziraphale miracles the beautiful glowing chandelier and crowley stopping in his tracks outside the window to look at it...

the way crowley rushes into the bookshop from outside and stops short by the door just boggling because the entire place is transformed and aziraphale did all that. aziraphale is absolutely freaking out about asking crowley to dance just before he does it; his eyes dart all over and voice goes all funny with nerves and everything, because he's thinking oh god, i planned this whole thing just for this, and now is the moment. the way aziraphale knows every step of the dance and crowley doesn't really follow the steps of the dance beyond the bare minimum (there's a point where he even sort of shrugs, when that's not the dance step) but he's still taking every opportunity for them to touch. the way they almost hold hands and their fingers nearly twine together each time, while they barely touch the other shopkeepers only as much as necessary.

crowley's "i won't leave you on your own," and aziraphale's answering "i know." the confirmation that aziraphale can stand up for himself perfectly well, but knows it makes crowley happy to be a rescuer and indulges that about him in their relationship - coupled with crowley's "he's unpredictable" from earlier which shows crowley knows his madcap angel can get out of anything but that he enjoys letting himself be rescued. (it's an echo back to the bastille scene too, really, where crowley's basically like you called me here for this??? because you wanted to have crepes??? and aziraphale's like and so what if i did? it's their thing, their thing they both enjoy so much.)

the way their love in so many ways is about knowing one another and understanding one another and giving each other what they need. and the fact that even with all their roadblocks in communication they STILL know and understand one another best, because they've each been witness to the other's first moments of genuine joy and pleasure. (i have a separate set of thoughts about that that i won't go in here because this has gotten long, but -- )

they!!!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #just having feelings here don't mind me

[ace-and-the-rpg-horrors]

Shizurui's feelings for each other headcanons (can't believe i've not done this yet, i should have my badge revoked, honestly-)

- as i'm pretty sure all us like... five Shizurui-ers agree, Rui definitely fell first

- minor celebrity crush ever since he was introduced to MMJ! that he didn't think would mean anything. but then after he properly spent time with her on the school trip?

- kaboom, cue falling head over heels queerplatonically <3

- disaster. absolute disaster, he is. he's so obvious about it despite his best efforts not to be

- during W x S rehearsal, Emu'll be chatting about her school day and who she talked to- everyone else catches on to how Rui seems more interested in her rambles immediately after Shizuku's name's mentioned

- even Leo/need finds out about it through Tsukasa and Emu and are gossiping about it. a bit of Shiho has withered away and died at the thought of her sister getting close with Tsukasa's somehow even more chaotic friend /silly

- Shizuku doesn't realise SHE likes him more than an acquaintance, let alone being aware of the other way round

- she subconsciously tries finding excuses to spend time with him <3

- "oh dear :(( i broke the microwave again :(( i suppose i'll have to call Kamishiro-san :(( and he'll spend time telling me how to fix it :(( such a shame... :)"

- it helps that all her friends now direct her to Rui when she has tech issues since they're aware the two know of each other's existences now!! they all reckon it's a miracle they met, since he's the rare one who won't ever get tired of explaining anything related to tech again and again <3 (especially since it's her)

- she definitely takes advantage of that without meaning to. whattt, just wanting to talk to him? as far as she knows, she's just mysteriously become more aware of how often she struggles with computers and appliances!!

- Tsukasa unintentional, oblivious wingman?? TSUKASA UNINTENTIONAL, OBLIVIOUS WINGMAN!!

- "ahaha, Shizuku!! absolutely wonderful show last weekend, we all went to see it and agreed it was marvellous!! especially Rui, actually, i recall him murmuring that you looked "ethereal," haha!! i'm sure he was quite impressed by the stage lighting then!!"

- rest in peace, Rui Kamishiro, he died too young

- 'tis all well though, since Shizuku, OF COURSE, believes he was just on about lights. (and was totally NOT disappointed when she heard Tsukasa's conclusion, nope, not at all, that would be so silly, to expect Rui was complimenting HER and not just the technical aspect of the show, wouldn't it? these idiots /most affectionate)

- Nene makes fun of Rui endless

- once she (almost immediately) pieced it together, she started doing shit like playing a Shizuku focused song to grab his attention when he's absorbed in tinkering and completely tuning everything else out. and then she loses her mind when it WORKS

- "oh, so THAT makes you finally look up?"

- Emu, the most emotionally intelligent character in the game, in my (correct) opinion, also just knows instantly and definitely thinks they're adorable and is VERY straightforward about it

- "Rui-kun, Rui-kun, i have the most WONDERHOY idea, wahahahaha!! you and Hinomori-senpai should TOTALLY go on a DATE over there, at the Ferris Wheel!! :D "

- "...!!"

- "ehhhh?? are you okay?? you look like your heart went crash-bam-boom!!"

- "... Emu-kun, we are very lucky i had paused eating just now because i do not believe you are quite vertically gifted enough to perform the Heimlich maneuver on me."

- Emu wingman number two? Emu wingman number two!!

- it actually gives Rui so much stress that Emu goes to the same school as Shizuku, cause you just know she might let something slip without even meaning to. not like Shizuku would catch on in the vast majority of cases though

- you could have all their friends waving a massive sign at her reading "RUI KAMISHIRO LIKES YOU" in gigantic, lit up letters and she'd be like "aww~ that's so very sweet, i didn't know Kamishiro-san was such a passionate fan of idols!! hehe, i'll remember to thank him for supporting our group so much...!!"

in conclusion: one of them is as oblivious as one can possibly get while the other gets to be nothing of the sort, thanks to his friends constantly reminding him of his feelings at every chance!!

#ace's random thoughts :) #project sekai #pjsk #shizurui #shizuku hinomori #rui kamishiro #shizuku project sekai #shizuku pjsk #mmj shizuku #rui project sekai #rui pjsk #wxs rui #tsukasa tenma #nene kusanagi #emu otori #shiho hinomori #pjsekai #prsk #proseka

[miguelkisses]

mi amor

summary: Miguel wanted a family, a second chance at life. Ever since he lost his daughter, he changed. Until he met her, the love of his life. His wife…

miguel x fem! reader

cw: fluff, angst, pregnancy mention, death(?). “y/n” is mentioned like twice

wc: 100-200+ maybe..?

disclaimer: i’ve never written a day in my life so we’ll see how this goes

Miguel’s wife, Y/n, was currently in the seventh month of her pregnancy. They were both beyond excited, especially Miguel. He was so thrilled that he was finally getting a second chance…

Miguel quietly walked over to her and gently woke her up, taking care not to startle her. He crouched down beside her, and gently caressed her cheek."Hey, my love, how are you feeling?" He smiled softly, his expression concerned for her but also happy and relieved to see her resting so peacefully. Miguel gave a soft chuckle as he saw how peaceful she looked right now, and he leaned down and planted a soft kiss on her cheek. "I'm so glad you're resting now. You look exhausted." She stirred a bit before answering, “I feel a bit better now…” she answered, a tired smile arising on her face. "That's good to hear, my love." Miguel smiled softly, gently caressing her cheek as he crouched beside her desk. "I got them to grant you maternity leave. They were finally seeing some sense." He smirked, his expression satisfied. "You deserve some more time to rest and take care of yourself... and our baby." He looked at her softly, and gently cupped her chin with his hand. "You're going to be the best mom in the world, my love. I know it."

Miguel could sense how happy and relieved she was to be granted extra rest, and he was glad that he could help. He gently kissed her forehead, and smiled softly as she placed a hand on her stomach and looked at him. "I just want you to take it easy. You need more rest, my love. I'll be here, so don't worry." Miguel was so in love with his wife, and he was excited to be a father. "I love you, so much, mi amor... and I can't wait for our little miracle to arrive.” “i love you too,” she softly kissed his lips. He kissed her gently in return, savoring their moment together. He pulled her close to him, gently caressing her stomach. "I'll always be here for you both... you know that?" Miguel smiled softly and gently kissed her stomach again. "Me, you and our baby girl... we will be a family together. And I will love you and protect you both, always.” Tears of joy welled in his eyes, and he whispered gently, "I love you so much, mi amor... I can't wait to be a family…."

*beep beep beep*

Miguel woke up quickly to the sound of his alarm. He looked over to his left, a cold empty space. Looking at the nightstand, he saw her wedding ring. Gently grabbing it, he held it in his hand. Tears were forming at his waterline at the thought of her. Y/n unfortunately died giving birth to their baby, Gabbie. Their daughter and her ring were all that he had left of her, but at least he wasn’t alone this time. Miguel’s tears began to fall on the ring, holding it close to him.

“I’ll miss you forever, mi amor..”

#miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #across the spiderverse