#for the fans of them still out there to find a bit easier

[piningpebbles]

Hi, I think you liked c!Sam at some point too? I dunno if any other c!Sam likers are still active, so I can't really figure out who else to ask.

What is c!Sam's deal with c!Hannah and why does he treat her so mean? (Like when she lost her elytra. Before that he seemed to care and be concerned about her with the Egg thing and be playful with her, but when she lost her elytra he was so uncaring about it.) Is it because of her betraying him at the Red Banquet?

"liked c!sam at one point" C!SAM WAS FUCKING AWESOME!!! not in the morality of his actions but in his sheer swag. consistently one of my absolutely favorite characters!!

you pretty much hit the nail on the head, after the betrayal at the red banquet, sam was very hesitant to trust hannah again. (though i have my issues with the wiki) the wiki says:

however, you're not wrong for wondering why he's treating her specifically so coldly, in fact, this post specifically criticizes him for his treatment of hannah around that time (and is totally worth a read).

i'm sorry, i can't give you a concrete answer for why he's acting the way he does towards her specifically, but i think it'd be worth attributing it to the way that sam tends to think in black and white, or moral absolutes (which this other post also goes into and worth checking out).

[dungeons-and-dragon-age]

HUH.

[rosesnbooks]

Astrology observations #5🖤

🌜I wrote these for fun, based on how i see these placements. i'm not a professional! hope you enjoy these🌛

⭐cancer placements allow themselves to feel their emotions. they may get annoyed by the intensity or the amount of them, but they process them fully, and this makes it easier for them to move on. random thought but writing letters to people they like may be something they do or did as kids haha. they're very romantic

⭐some aries venuses have obsessive tendencies when they have a crush, and they get frustrated a lot if they think they can't/shouldn't pursue them. they enjoy the tension, but they don't want it to last too long because they dislike not being in control, and having feelings for someone leaves them feeling too vulnerable. that's why they try to move on if they can, but it takes work. when they do find someone, they become really clingy but they still need freedom when it suits them

⭐mars in libra avoid conflicts and try to be reasonable about everything, but if they think you crossed a line, you'll see why aries is their sister sign pretty soon. once they tell you off, you'll never see them the same way, so underrestimate them at your cost

⭐having stelliums can be interesting. it for sure puts a lot of emphasis on the influence of that house on your life, and i found that it can be both positive and negative since they face lots of challenges related to their house but also many blessings. those who have stelliums kind of embody multiple characteristics simultaneously

⭐sun in the 11th people glow when they are with their closest friends. they also tend to dream big and care a lot about the world. their friends usually help them in their future goals. they feel a bit different than people in their hometown/country, mostly because they cannot be tied down to a single culture because they enjoy different things, which usually makes them quite open-minded and tolerant. they can be picky about the people they let in super close though

⭐mars in the 6th can procrastinate a lot actually, but they get things done. may get sudden waves of high energy and get things done rapidly and extensively. they expect a lot from themselves regarding their ambitions and aspirations. they try to improve themselves in any way most of the time, but they should also accept their current state if they want to evolve and love themselves. they need to watch out for their moral perfectionism too. it's okay to make mistakes as long as you apologise and strive to change for the better

⭐i've found that virgo mercuries can be really direct, even if they are shy or don't talk much around strangers or acquaintances, they have their moments. super funny too

⭐north node in cancer struggle with accepting their vulnerable side. they hate feeling like things and people can evoke strong emotions in them. they want to be more detached, but those that work on themselves find it very rewarding once they embrace their strong emotions. they can also be really reliable, practical, and thoughtful

⭐fire+water combinations in birth charts-i am sending you a hug. i know exactly how difficult it is to keep all those emotions under check, and that you need a lot of understanding and rest to function. use those emotions and passions well hun, you are strong and capable. you have a lot of empathy and wonder inside of you

⭐capricorn sun/mercury have a dry way of texting. their humor is difficult to read via text and they simply are not fans of texting, and it shows lol

⭐aries mercuries are not always available online and they may come and go when they're online, but they'll answer all of your messages one by one with lots of enthusiasm. they also like to send memes and joke around a lot

⭐virgo mercuries are not fans of texting and they can answer you after a couple of days or so even if they really like you. similarly to aries, they'll make sure they answer everything and they also pay attention to every detail you mention. very sweet really. their humor shines brighter in person

⭐taurus moon are very capable. they may prefer rest over anything else, but their patience and dedication to the things they need to do is really cool. they are calm most of the time so it's nice to be around them, just don't disrespect them and everyone will thrive

⭐taurus venus men can be really possessive. even if you like such behavior, some can go to extremes and try to control how you feel, think, and behave. they have a specific image of an ideal partner and they want you to fulfill it

⭐libra venus tend to care about how they look and present themselves so they put lots of effort into that. they also have standards when it comes to beauty and some expect others to dress and look well, whether they know them or not

⭐women with venus in aquarius-you may be attracted to men who are mysterious and act like they're special. just be careful because there are so many toxic ones out there who want a relationship but not truly, because they don't want to dedicate themselves to you and maybe plan on using you

⭐pisces moon can feel like they're drowning in their own emotions sometimes because they cannot control them easily and they tend to give in. if they like to portray themselves as a martyr these emotions can get out of hand because they let those emotions lead them which influences their mental health and relationships. those who are developed process these emotions and try to figure them out and let them pass. they can learn a lot about themselves and others this way. creative outlets can be of help to process this

⭐leo moon need to watch out for hurting people when their ego is hurt because they can lash out and make lots of damage. take a second to think whether it's worth it or not, since there is no point in trying to "win" in a fight with someone you love

⭐pisces mars can be too forgiving, especially to those they care about. don't let people walk over you dear, no matter who they are. nobody deserves that kind of treatment

thank you for reading!🤍i also offer paid astrology readings, so check out my blog for more info

©rosesnbooks

[writers-potion]

Let's Scare Your Readers!

Combine the techniques below with the techniques for building suspense to give your readers a palm-sweating sensation!

Darkness

If absolute darkness doesn't make sense in your story, aim for semi-darkness: dusk, a single lantern/candle, heavily curtained windows, a thick canopy of trees, etc. Flickering lights that create confusing shadows can also be effective.

Let the darkness pool gradually around your MC. Show the night or fog rolling in, the camp-fire subsiding, or the candles burn down one by one.

Examples:

The candle sputtered. The light wavered.

The lamp cast its smoky light on the brick walls.

The night was silent, but for the dry rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the trees.

Sound

Of all the senses, the sense of hearing serves best to create excitement and fear.

the clacking of the villain's boots on the floor tiles, the ticking of the wall clock, a dog barking outside, the roaring of a distant motor, a door slamming somewhere in the house, water dripping from the ceiling, the chair squeaking, the whine of the dentist's drill, the scraping of the knife on a whetstone, a faraway siren wailing the heroine's own heartbeat thudding in her ears.

When the surroundings are dark, your MC will grow to be more aware of the surrounding noise, even if it's not relevant to the plot.

Chill

Make it uncomfortably cold for the MC, and your readers will shiver with them.

powercut cutting off the heating, nightfall naturally bringing in lower temperatures.

winter, evening, a cool breeze that chills everything, survivors running our of fuel, the ceiling fan is over-active, stone builindg/caves/sbuterranean chambers tend to be cold.

Describe how the cold pinpricks the MC's skin, stunting their thinking and making them shiver.

The opposite can also be effective: turn up the temperature using a stove, an overheated motor, or the sweltering sun to make the MC sweat.

Isolation

This is a common technique: let the MC face the monster alone with no external help. It's also easier to limit the resources and escape routes available for the MC.

an abandoned factory, remote mountaintop, the depth of an unexplored cave.

It can also be more everyday locations: a construction site, the sewer, a malfunctioning bathroom.

Meet the Monster

When describing the threat, spread out your descriptions so that (1) the scene has constant action (2) you have material to build up later.

Good details to show:

hands, fingers, nails, talons, claws

the sound of the voice, growl, roar

the smile, teeth

the texture of skin, fur, scales.

Get Visceral

Never tell your readers that the MC is scared. Describe the fright using these physical effects:

the skin crawling, breath stalling, scalp pricking, clenching of the chest, stomach curling, heart thudding, sweat tricking down, clogged throat, pulse in the ears, cold sweat, chills up/down the spine, stomach knotting, breathless, etc.

The Gory Bits

Instead of describing everything, limit yourself to particular details, keeping overall description short. Non-stop gore doesn't shock - its bores.

Create a contrast: the child's mutilated corpse still clutches the doll. The brains from the baby's plt skull spill across the fluffy pink blanket.

Use similes, comparing gruesome buts to something from ordinary life. The intestines look like spaghetti in tomato sauce. The blood spilling from the mouth looks like lipstick.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* . ───

💎If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 

💎Before you ask, check out my masterpost part 1 and part 2 

💎For early access to my content,  become a Writing Wizard 

[moonstruckme]

Hi I’m a huge fan of your work, especially how you write Remus. Could I request Remus and reader getting dressed up for a dinner date/wedding/fancy party? And they’re just smitten over each other and can’t get enough of each other?

Thank you gorgeous!

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 732 words

You hear Remus’ frustrated grunt from within the bathroom. Pause in dabbing your lipstick. 

“Need help?” 

“No, I’ve—oh, fuck me. It’s fine, I’ve got it.” 

You smile to yourself at your boyfriend’s disgruntled tone. You finish up quickly, going into the bedroom to lend a hand. 

“Here, let me.” 

“I’m a fully grown adult.” Remus huffs but lets you take his tie into your hands. You start undoing his complicated knot. “I should know how to tie my own bloody tie.” 

“It’s easier when you’re not the one wearing it. Anyway, you only get practice a couple of times a year.” 

“Because I look like a knob in one,” he mutters, though his voice softens as he watches you fold one part of the fabric carefully over the other. 

“You don’t; you look handsome.” You let your eyes flit up to his, catching the sweet beginnings of his smile. “Suits suit you.” 

“Yeah, ha ha.” Remus grins down at you as you finish with his tie, tightening the knot himself. “Thank you, dove. Oh.” His expression shifts as you take a step back, eyes taking you in for the first time since you disappeared to the bathroom to get ready. His voice goes a bit breathy. “Oh, you look incredible.” 

A pleased heat rises to your cheeks. “Thanks,” you say, smoothing your hands down the sides of your dress self-consciously. “Could you zip me up?” 

Remus gestures for you to turn around, eyes still roving you from head to toe. You’ve always loved that, the way he watches things, taking in the world with quiet studiousness, but you think you may never get used to being the subject of such perusal. 

“Do you think my makeup might be a bit too much?” you ask as he draws the cold zipper up your spine, careful of any snags or catches. “Be honest.” 

“No, I don’t.” The zipper reaches the top, and Remus’ hands find your hips. He turns you towards him. “I think you look perfect.” He kisses your cheek, mindful not to disrupt any of your work. “Beautiful.” 

“Are you sure? There’s still time to change it, I could scale it back.” 

Remus frowns. His thumbs draw small circles over your hips, feeling the material of your dress. “If you want to, that’s fine. But why?” 

You shrug, sheepish. “I want your work friends to like me.”

“They’re going to like you.” 

He says it so easily, like there are no possible alternatives. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “I just want to look nice,” you say. “Or, I don’t know, refined. You’re all professors, I don’t want to be the only one who shows up in purple eyeliner or something.” 

“You’re not wearing purple eyeliner,” he points out. 

“For example.” 

Remus gathers you close, hand flat over the small of your back. “You’re very refined,” he tells you, looking you in your eyes. “You’re twice as refined as I am, and they like me fine.” 

You smile up at him. “You have credentials.” 

Remus tilts his chin down, until there’s only an inch or two between you. His lips curve. “I’ll accredit you.” 

“Flirt.” 

“Flatterer.” 

You laugh. Remus looks delighted, his lips coming down on yours with less restraint than you know to expect from him. It makes you smile wider, your mouths a mirror image as you press up onto your toes to give as good as you get. 

“Sorry,” he says after, a tad breathily. “I don’t want to mess up your lip…stuff.” 

You grin at him. “It’ll be okay.” You’ll fix it in the car.

Remus takes your hands, fingers lacing between yours. He lets them hang between you. 

“You wouldn’t be the only one in purple eyeliner,” he tells you, “but you might have to make peace with standing out, sweetheart. It’s hard to avoid when you’re the loveliest thing in the room.” 

You rub your lips together, giving him a meaningful look. “Not the loveliest thing,” you say. 

Your boyfriend blinks, surprised, before his eyes crinkle with fondness. He gives your hands a squeeze. “Now who’s the flirt?”

“Still you.” You let go of one of his hands but keep hold of the other, taking him with you to go find your shoes. “You’re the one in that tie.” 

Remus’ laughter sends a stream of butterflies straight through you. You wonder at having encouraged such a sound.

[steveseddie]

boy wonder

steddie | rating: t | wc: 999 | cw: none | tags: pre-relationship, steve and eddie recovering at the hospital together, eddie just had surgery, he’s a little high, fluff

for @steddie-spooktober day fourteen, prompt “bats”

read on ao3

“Do you think I’ll turn into Batman?”

Steve looks up from the magazine he’s been skimming through to find Eddie peering at him from his hospital bed. 

The sight of him covered in bandages and hooked to IVs and monitors still sends a shiver down Steve’s spine. But as the days go by and Eddie keeps getting better— looking better, less and less like he’s on the brink of death— it gets easier for Steve to handle it.

He’s surprised that Eddie woke up so soon after his surgery. The doctor said it’d be a while before the drugs wore off so Steve prepared himself to sit here for hours waiting for Eddie to wake up, just like he did after his first and then his second surgery. 

But it’s been less than two hours since they rolled him back into his room and Eddie is already up, eyes half-lidded and words slightly slurred and nonsensical, but awake and alert— and waiting for Steve to reply.

“Um, come again?”

“Do you think I’ll turn into Batman?” Eddie repeats, head lolling to the side to blink at Steve. “You know, ’cause I got bit by bats.”

Normally, Steve wouldn’t argue about superheroes with a nerd like Eddie, but he’s read a few Batman comics in his life and even he knows that’s not right. 

“I’m pretty sure Batman didn’t get bit by bats, Eddie,” he says with an amused chuckle. 

“No, but Spiderman got bit by a spider,” Eddie says, wagging his finger— the one with the pulse oximeter— at Steve like what he’s saying makes perfect sense. 

To him— pumped full of some pretty hardcore drugs— it probably does.  

“Okay,” Steve says, deciding to humor him. He shifts on the chair, leaning forward so that his back isn’t pressed against anything. They cleaned his wounds and changed his bandages before he came to Eddie’s room and by now the numbing cream has started to wear off and it stings. “Well, I also got bit by bats. Does that mean I’ll become Batman too?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together in a cute little frown. “There can only be one Batman.”

“And why does it have to be you?”

Eddie thinks it over for a second before propping himself up in his elbows, eyes wide. “I dress in black! And I have bat tattoos!” 

“Well, I have rich parents,” Steve counters with. It’s the one thing he knows he shares with the character. 

“Well, my parents are dead!” Eddie says. It’s probably the drugs’ fault that he sounds so enthusiastic about it. “I win!”

“Fine,” Steve says, rolling his eyes half-heartedly, “I guess you can be Batman.”

Eddie grins, satisfied, flopping back against the bed, his hair fanning out against the pillow. “You can be Robin,” he tells Steve, giving him a lopsided smile. 

“Sure, Eds.”

Eddie perks up and props himself on his elbows again. “Hey, we should dress up as them for Halloween!”

Steve can’t help but make a face. “No way, man.”

“Oh, right,” Eddie says, his smile falling, “we won’t be friends anymore by then.”

Wait— what?

“What are you talking about?” Steve asks, frowning. That makes even less sense than his drug-induced Batman musings. 

“Well, you only hang out with me ’cause we’re both stuck in this hospital,” Eddie says matter-of-factly, “but once we’re out of here, you’ll have no reason to put up with me.”

Steve starts shaking his head even before he’s done talking. He knows Eddie is only saying this out loud because of the drugs but it’s something he must’ve thought about it before. It makes Steve sad to think he’s been feeling this way for the last couple of weeks and Steve didn’t know. 

“Eddie, I don’t ‘put up with you’, okay? We’re friends, I like your company. You’re like, cool and really funny,” Steve says as earnestly as he can. “And we saved the world together! That means you’re stuck with me, man.”

Eddie’s eyes grow wider as Steve talks. He blinks slowly at him as he processes the words before his lips stretch into a big grin. 

“Does that mean we can dress up together?”

Steve’s lips scrunch to the side. “Yeah, no, I’m not wearing a nerdy costume, especially one where I have to wear tights,” he says in a bitchy tone. 

“But you’d look so good in them,” Eddie insists and then leers at Steve, licking his lips before he adds in a low voice— “big boy.”

Steve’s eyes go wide, and just like the first time Eddie called him that, he blushes and forgets how to speak from how flustered he feels.

He’s lucky he’s not the one hooked to a heart monitor right now or the damn thing would’ve started beeping like crazy in time with his stuttering heartbeat. 

He’s saved from having to say anything in response to that by a doctor coming into the room at that moment to check on Eddie, distracting him and breaking the weird tension. It’s a good thing she doesn’t pay any attention to Steve or she might ask why his face is bright red. 

“Hey, Doc,” Eddie says as she checks his vitals. The doctor hums in acknowledgment. “I’m Batman.” 

“Sure you are, Mr. Munson,” she says in a bored tone but Eddie doesn’t seem to care that she acts so dismissively. 

His head lolls to the side and he gives Steve a dimpled grin. “And that’s my Boy Wonder,” he says, eyes warm and molten as they stare at him.

Steve doesn’t know why that makes his heart skip a beat or why it makes his lungs feel like they can’t draw any air in.

Or why he wants Eddie to look at him like that again so desperately that he’s genuinely considering wearing those tights on Halloween after all.

Maybe he should ask the doctor for a check-up after she’s done with Eddie, just to be safe. He thinks he might be coming down with something.

[transformersxreader]

TFONE Starscream x Femme Reader x Yandere-ish D-16/Megatron

(Minor spoilers ahead, but if you wish to continue go right ahead)

"(Y/n). Are you sure to wish to go alone?"

(Y/n) turns to face Starscream who had a worried look, reaching out for her servos placing a soft kiss to them. (Y/n) smiles at his actions and grip his servos tighter with hers.

"Yes Starscream. It will be more easier and safer that way."

Starscream gave (Y/n) a stern look before sighing in defeat,

"Promise me that you'll be careful."

"I promise."

(Y/n) places a soft kiss on the side of his lips pulling back her hold on Starscream, her servos slowly sliding off before transforming to her jet form and heading off to Iacon city.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) walks carefully around the crowded train that was heading to the mines, where she would find out more information about the energon trains and have a look around the mines.

Just before joining the others in the train, she had to transform her armor to fit in more with the other miners, a bit of her amor hiding her cog.

As the train was stopped rapidly (Y/n) lost her footing and bump right into a gray bot.

"Oh! Sorry-"

The voice stop when (Y/n) and the gray bot made eye contact, the gray bot was speechless. (Y/n) look around to make sure no one else saw the small incident.

"I apologize as well."

(Y/n) spoken softly just before she turn walk the other direction, the gray bot reach out for (Y/n) speaking out, going around (Y/n) so now he was facing her

"Uh! Wait! Umm.. I-i haven't seen around before? Are you a transfer? Or..."

(Y/n) a bit surprised just smiled,

"Uh... yes.....I'm new..."

The gray bot noticed that he was probably making (Y/n) feel uncomfortable, and rub his head blushing looking to the side.

"I'm sorry... I just-"

(Y/n) just shook her head, waving her hands up

"No no it's alright."

(Y/n) then noticed a sticker on his left shoulder and pointed out

"You admire megatronus?"

The gray bot look to his shoulder his smile getting wider, without a second started to spill how amazing he was. (Y/n) giggles

"I'm glad I'm not the only one who fans over megatronus."

The gray bot laughs, holding out his servo,

"I'm D-16 and you are?"

"(Y/n). It's nice to meet you D-16."

They shook hands, D-16 repeating (Y/n) name softly, not noticing he was still holding onto her hand.

"Um... well I should probably go."

(Y/n) slowly release her grip and walks off, D-16 still looking at (Y/n) disappearing into the crowd.

D-16 felt his spark beat rapidly, till he was pull out of his thoughts by his best friend Orion pax.

"Who were you talking to D? I've never seen her before? She new?"

D-16 look at his hand then the direction where (Y/n) went and sighs,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) felt disgusted and angry noticing that these miners bots work hard for the terrible Sentinel prime not knowing the horrible truth, after a while of scouting the trains location, she tries to hack the systems to see where would these trains travel too on the surface. But she noticed that she has spend too much time in city,

"Ugh. If I don't leave now, I'll never hear the end from Starscream."

(Y/n) sighs chuckling to herself, just remembering the last time she arrive late and injured.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Flashback)

"(Y/n)! What have I told you!!"

(Y/n) was holding onto her shoulder while shockwave was patching it up, (Y/n) looking down, not even trying to glance up at Starscream.

"What were you thinking?! I ask you to stay put but race yourself into open fire!"

Starscream growls out covering his face with a servo, before facing away.

"Leave us."

Both Soundwave and Shockwave left leaving (Y/n) and Starscream alone.

"Starscream I-"

Starscream doesn't let (Y/n) finish, carefully bringing her closer to him a sort of hug.

"I can't lose you (Y/n). The thought. It pains me, after sentinels betrayal... he almost had you.."

(Y/n) looks up to Starscream holding onto his side of his face bring him closer head to head.

"I'm sorry I worry you, I just wanted to do more."

"I know you do, please just be cautious about your actions my dear."

(Y/n) smiles leaning in for a kiss

(Flashback ends)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) blinks noticed she space out for a moment or two, cursing at herself gather the intel and slowly sneaking out where the other miners were working around, till she heard a loud explosion.

"What was that?"

She noticed a pink bot and a couple of other miners waiting at the entrance of a mine cave and out came another explosion and just has the cave was caving in, three miners barely made it out.

(Y/n) wanted to help but the longer she stayed the more danger she can be in, but that thought went out the window when she saw a bigger jet bot punch D-16.

D-16 groans in pain as he felt someone lift him up a bit, his optics adjusting to see (Y/n).

"Are you okay?"

D-16 let out a sigh thinking he was dreaming for a second,

"Yes..."

(Y/n) pulls D-16 up on his feet before helping the other red bot up.

"Thank you? Um..."

"(Y/n). Nice to meet you."

The red bot seems to make a face as he heard your name before but it blurred a little, but remember his friend mentioning your name.

"Hey! my friend was just talking about you non stop, he-"

Before he could continue D-16 covers his mouth a large blush forming on his face and chucking nervously,

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Are you sure you both are okay?"

D-16 and Orion pax both nodded, they both continued on their conversation, (Y/n) lifted her arm up and open a secret hatch that had energon cubes. But these energon cubes were sweet and had higher energy in them that can satisfy any bot,

"Here, this should help."

(Y/n) hands them both one, both D-16 and Orion pax both looked at each other, thanking (Y/n) popping the cube into their mouths.

"Wow! So amazing."

"This is the most sweetest energon I have ever had."

(Y/n) smiles

A loud ding noise filled the room catching everyone's attention the voice speaking

'Attention, all sectors. Stand by for a live transmission from Sentinel Prime.'

Than a hologram of sentinel prime appears making ever happy to see the "prime" back from the surface. But one bot was not smiling for his return, (Y/n) frowns and looks around to see all these poor souls living a lie. She was pulled back a hand grabs onto hers to see D-16 with a grin

"He's back! Come on (Y/n)."

(Y/n) force a smile joining the other to hear what the prime had to say, she felt sick seeing D-16 praise sentinel. Sentinel prime stating that he yet hasn't found the matrix and that the next day they'll be no work cause there will be a race called Iacon 5000.

(Y/n) was slowly leaving as everyone cheers

"Hey! Wait! (Y/n)!"

(Y/n) turns to D-16, he seems to noticed her look slowly asking if she was okay?

"Yes... I'm fine... I have to go."

"W-will you be there tomorrow? For the race? Are you going alone? If you want you can join me and-"

But before D-16 could finish his sentence

"Don't trust him D-16."

D-16 flinch a bit (Y/n) voice was different, strong yet stern.

"W-what?"

(Y/n) placed a hand on D-16 faceplate, caressing his face softly whispering softy to him

"You are so blind to see the truth... I'm warning you D-16. Please."

(Y/n) slowly walks backwards giving D-16 a last look, transforming her amor out of her disguise from to her normal form, transforming into her jet form. Taking off in a hurry leaving the D-16 still confused, shock and concerned of her words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Y/n) made it back in one piece a couple of seekers notices her arrival,

"(Y/n) back!"

(Y/n) transforms mid air and lands gracefully seeing everyone welcome her back.

"(Y/n). Mission successful?"

Soundwave questions, (Y/n) nods her head and points to where Starscream throne area is, heading up the stairs seeing Starscream looking out into the distance hands behind his back.

"Starscream has been nonstop worrying about you."

Shockwave added making (Y/n) chuckle

"I have return Starscream."

(Y/n) bows her head a bit, looking up to see Starscream with a small smile

"Glad to see you safe and sound (Y/n). Took your time with this one did you?"

(Y/n) bows her head again, apologizing of taking more time than she anticipated.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"So there's multiple trains heading on the east side this time."

(Y/n) had an hologram of the trains destinations and a few data from sentinels prime personal drive.

"This is all I could get, if I've stayed longer I could have been seen or heard by the security."

Starscream lifts his hand up as his way that he understood,

"This should cause some trouble for sentinel, nice work (Y/n)."

(Y/n) thanked Starscream before her thoughts went back to the two miners she meet.

"Something troubles you my dear?"

(Y/n) sighs shaking her head,

"No... just thinking about the bots back in the city still believing in that no good of a prime."

Starscream places a servos on her shoulder, Starscream reassures that they will return to Iacon city but it's just safer this way.

"Shockwave has informed me that you worry for my safety? Is it true?"

Starscream let's out a cough,

"Worried? Oh uh yes. Indeed I was but I wouldn't say I was too worried. I knew you would handle it."

(Y/n) reaches out both her servos grabbing Starscream head, pulling him towards her to kiss Starscream multiple times on his faceplate making Starscream blush and groans.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So... what do you guys think? I hope y'all liked it and of course I'll do a part 2!

Thank you again for taking your time to read this I really appreciate it 💕😊

[1818havefaith]

2016 NATURAL GLOW: FAITH’S GUIDE

OVERVIEW

This one’s my personal favourite. Simple, yet effective. A look to enhance your natural beauty. The eyebrows are very 2016, the lashes are bold, but everything else is quite toned down and simple. This look is perfect for everyday and special occasions. You can also do it without foundation to make it even more simple.

PRODUCTS

Primer

Baby powder

Foundation, tinted moisturiser(can be done without)

Concealer

Setting/loose powder

Pressed powder

Eyebrow gel

Brow pomade

Highlighter

Lashes

Lash glue

Lip gloss

Setting spray

TOOLS

Powder brush

Beauty blender

Tweezers

Brow brush

STEPS

BASE

Apply primer to skin, (skincare should be done before this step) make sure primer is applied ALL OVER your face

#faithtip After applying primer, use a brush to apply baby powder to your skin

These two steps will keep your makeup intact for AGES and prevent a lot of sweating through makeup

Then apply foundation or tinted moisturiser and blend well with a beauty blender (you can skip this step to keep your makeup light)

#faithtip wet your beauty blender with setting spray for better hold and easier blending

Apply pressed powder with a powder brush and blend well with a brush

This look is quite light, so instead of under-eye concealer apply loose setting powder from under your eyes to your temples, using a beauty blender

Apply loose setting powder from the side of your lip to the side of your face, under your cheek

Leave the setting powder unblended for now

BROWS

One of the KEYS to this look is eyebrows, make sure your brows have a defined shape

Brush through your brows and shape them with brow gel

Use pomade and a small brow brush to draw a line on the bottom of your eyebrows, following the shape of your brows

Draw a line at the top of your brows following the shape of your brows again

Fill your brows in within the lines

Brush through your brows again with brow gel

After this, apply concealer under your brows

The concealer should look like you have painted an outline of your eyebrows

Blend this in with a beauty blender

Use a beauty blender to apply loose powder underneath and on top of your brows, let it sit.

LASHES

When I do this look I don’t apply lashes because I wear cluster lashes/extensions, I find it quicker and easier for me to get ready

People who wear lash extensions/clusters can also skip lash application

STRIP LASHES

But for this step apply glue to strip lashes

Wave the lashes around for a bit so the glue dries a tiny bit and feels a little bit sticky

Place them on the lash line and adjust where needed (using tweezers or fingers)

CLUSTER LASHES

Strip lashes can also be cut into smaller pieces or use cluster lashes

Dip them into glue and wipe off the excess

Use tweezers to hold the lashes

Pull the top of your eyelid upwards so you can see underneath your eyelashes

#faithtip Wipe the glue on the part you are applying to then you can dip the lash in glue again before actually placing it underneath your lash

This make the lashes more firm and secure

Make sure it is not too close to your eye as this can be irritating

Fan your eyes if you can still feel wet glue

BACK TO THE BASE

Using a powder brush, brush away/blend out the loose powder, under your eyes, under your cheeks and around your eyebrows

Blend VERY well, as the powder has been sat on your face for a while, so it will not move easily

After this, apply a gold/bronze tone highlighter on the tip of your nose, on your cheek bones, your brow bone and cupids bow

Apply in moderation and blend slightly with finger to avoid looking ashy

Now use setting spray (holding it not too close to your face) over your face 3-4 times

LIPS

Add more highlighter to cupids bow if needed

Apply Vaseline/lip balm for moisture

Apply clear lip gloss

[woso-dreamzzz]

Hammarby

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Georgia Stanway x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Georgia's new shirt is horrifying

You stare at her, eyes wide.

Georgia isn't quite sure why you're staring but you are.

You'd come into the locker room this morning with Magda and Pernille and sat in Pernille's cubby like usual.

Unlike the team, you come into the locker room already wearing your training shirt and boots. Pernille had once said that it's easier to get you ready at home then let you change with everyone else.

Georgia's frown deepens the longer you stare at her.

At some point during the time Georgia's been here and the time you've been here, you've slipped away from Pernille's cubby to stand in front of her.

"You feeling okay?" Georgia asks, confusion still seeping into her bones the longer you stare up at her," Is something wrong?"

You bite your lip and point at the shirt she was just folding up.

"Is that an AIK shirt?" You ask.

"Er...yeah?"

You wrinkle your nose up in disgust and turn away, hurrying off like Georgia's just murdered a kitten or something. You duck behind Magda, clinging to her tightly.

"Morsa!" You say, looking halfway to tears," I don't like Georgia anymore!"

"Hey!" Georgia exclaims," What?! I haven't done anything!"

"You have!"

"I haven't!"

"You have!"

"I haven't!"

"Georgia," Pernille pipes up," You're arguing with a child."

"We're not arguing!"

You scoff. "Yes we are!"

"We're not!"

"We are!"

Magda sighs, lifting you up onto her hip. You're getting a bit too old for her to be doing this but she doesn't really care.

"Why don't you like Georgia anymore?"

You shake your head. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Well, you can't just say you don't like Georgia and then not give a reason."

You take a deep breath before pointing accusingly at Georgia. "She came in wearing an AIK shirt!"

Pernille buries her face in her hands. "Oh no."

Magda whirls around. The fond smile she had previously been wearing was contorted into a look of pure horror.

"An AIK shirt?!" She demands and Georgia gets the feeling that she's done something egregious.

"Yeah? What's wrong with that?"

"What's wrong-? What's wrong with that?! Are you serious?!"

If Georgia wasn't currently terrified for her life, she'd make a joke about how similar you and Magda clearly are because you've get matching looks of outrage on your faces.

"Now you've set her off," Pernille mutters.

"AIK are shit!"

"Princesse! We don't use that language!"

You give Pernille a petulant look. "Morsa says that I can call AIK shit because they are! She said it's the only time I can use that word."

"She's right!" Magda declares decisively," AIK are shit and I can't believe you've done this! In front of my child?!"

"It's just a shirt!" Georgia sputters," What is going on?!"

"Magda is a Hammarby fan," Pernille explains," And so is Princesse. Both clubs play in Stockholm so..."

Georgia nods. "A City and United situation."

"A little bit."

"I can't believe you've done this!" Magda continues," This is meant to be a safe space! Look at her!"

You're sobbing now and Georgia's ninety percent sure they're crocodile tears but still, they make her feel awful.

"AIK is shit!" You repeat through your tears," Hammarby is better!"

"Hammarby is the best!" Magda says," It's okay, princesse, Georgia didn't mean it. She doesn't understand because she isn't Swedish. We'll help her learn from this."

"You're both so dramatic!" Pernille rolls her eyes, pushing you both out through the door before turning to look at Georgia again. "Don't mind them. This always happens when they find out something related to AIK."

"And the-?" Georgia gestures over her eyes.

"The tears? Yeah, a hundred percent fake. Magda told her it would make more people change their allegiance to Hammarby."

"They have...strong opinions."

Pernille stares at the closed door. "Yeah, Princesse inherited the flair for the dramatic."

Georgia chuckles. "How do you put up with them?"

Pernille gives her a sly smile. "I just don't mention AIK."

[olderthannetfic]

hi, as someone who is tragically gen Z and only ever read AO3, can I ask: what was so great about LiveJournal? Like, I know that there were fics posted there (and I've even read about the "purge", so I get why it isn't used anymore) and that it was sort of a forum-type thing. But what I don't understand, wouldn't Tumblr fill in the latter function? How was that site any different? I see a lot of people reminiscing about it and I'm confused

--

A big factor in LJ's greatness is timing and nostalgia.

It was genuinely great, but it wasn't quite as great as all of the Lo, shall the Golden Age ne'er come again? posts suggest.

LJ arrived at a pivotal time in the development of the internet both in terms of technical stuff and how many people had access. Many fans who are now in their thirties to fifties first discovered fandom through LJ and many were at a time in their lives when they were feeling energetic and up to making lots of new friends—and to figuring out how to make a site work for them.

I got on LJ in 2002 when it required invites. Fandom arrived in droves in 2003, first via coordinated campaigns to get invites to key people and then when LJ opened up free account creation to everyone. Back then, LJ's features sucked. It was impossible to search properly, among other things. At its height (2005-7, let's say), there was a reasonable site search, and fans had developed all sorts of community resources for finding each other.

People often remember this phase but not the early days of suckitude.

This development parallels how Tumblr used to not have that private chat feature and how a lot of fuckyeah[whatever] type tumblrs have helped curate the site and make it much more usable for fans. Fandom draining away from LJ after strikethrough also parallels people draining away from Tumblr after the purge.

There are people who talk about Tumblr the way my cohort talks about LJ...

And to the shock of no one, they are people who came of age on Tumblr, who found fandom via Tumblr, who were on Tumblr during pivotal times in their lives and ones when they had energy to make friends and figure out how a site worked.

Those same Tumblrites are now making all the same geriatric-sounding posts we LJers do about how other sites lack the required features to be good for fandom while missing that 90% of tumblr's "features" at its height (2012-2016, let's say) were actually fan-created and were basically the same as any fandom newsletter or links page or all the versions of this kind of personal curation stretching back to long before the internet existed.

What life phase you hit a site at matters.

--

With all of that said, no, LJ was not a forum. It was a blogging site with threaded comments.

The key point to understand is that conversation was always happening in a specific person's space. Unlike on a true forum, people were in the comments on a particular post in a journal owned by another fan. (On a forum, there's the first post in a thread, but it's still more of a communal space with less of a hierarchy.)

Overall, the LJ format can have a feeling a bit like you're over at someone's house for tea. There's more of a sense of intimacy and also behaving yourself in front of community members.

Tumblr being obscure and impossible to find anything in does give it some of the same vibe relative to Twitter, but it's still part of modern social media that tries to shove every rando into the face of every other rando.

But it wasn't just vibes: LJ also had robust privacy features where you could lock a post to this or that group of friends. You could moderate your comments section properly. Tumblr has far fewer controls to force people to behave or leave on a technical level.

--

The biggest thing many people miss about LJ is the threaded comments. At least by late LJ and on Dreamwidth, you can expand and collapse threads, making it far easier to deal with a massive comments section. But more than that, things are properly threaded with multiple levels of hierarchy that are all easily visible in the same place.

On Tumblr, it used to be extremely difficult to find all of the actual commentary on a post. Nowadays, it's far easier, but you still have to scroll chronologically, and multiple versions of a post with a long chain of commentary may be much more divorced from each other than what would happen in a LJ comments section.

--

But could we use Tumblr pretty much how we used LJ?

We could.

I do.

--

The key things that people tend to miss about LJ, aside from the younger and more excited version of themselves or the friends they've lost since then, are:

Heavily text-based

It may sound odd on the modern internet, but there are a lot of people whose brains don't like or handle an image-heavy site well. They were everywhere in SF book fandom. They were everywhere on the early internet. Today, they're hanging out on Dreamwidth and still going to their SF cons. They're usually not on Tumblr.

You could follow the discussion

Threaded comments help, but a lot of it is about having some place you can check for updates. It wasn't actually that easy to follow big LJ discussions unless you were subscribed to comments and reading along as things were happening instead of coming along after the entire mass of comments had been left.

The tone of the discussion is intellectual and one's enemies are "idiots", not "problematic"

All this requires is a penchant for longwindedness and an itchy blocking finger to remove anyone slinging ad hominems from the comments section.

On tumblr, it's as simple as conversations happening in the replies on a popular account and that person not tolerating suibaiting and threats.

(And make no mistake, a lot of LJ discussion was in the comments on popular accounts, not spread equally between everyone's.)

It does require that multiple people like that tone and want to engage in that way, but lots of people do want to.

--

These days, I interact with tumblr by checking my askbox and reading my activity page. The vast, vast majority of my posts are ones where I'm the OP, so if I block someone, they're booted from the discussion entirely.

For me... yeah, Tumblr functions almost exactly like LJ.

Also like LJ, while I'm hosting the conversation, if you hang around, you'll see the same people again and again in the comments. They may or may not also host that kind of conversation in their space, and there's a larger pool of lurkers who have some notion of which people count as regulars. Other people are watching from the shadows, enjoying or deriding the takes of the usual crowd.

People presumably do like reading my lengthy commentary or they wouldn't be here, but my tumblr wouldn't be popular like this without a healthy pool of other people who chime in regularly. It's not just that there are more people: it's that you see the same people over time. There's a bit more sense of place and community than on some parts of the internet.

--

So, in my opinion, the failure to just recreate LJ fandom on Tumblr was a skill issue.

Threaded comments were great, but LJ culture came from mailing lists, and mailing lists had the same issue as tumblr with the diverging threads.

We solved that back then by clipping out only the parts we wanted to respond to (you'd write "snip" around the quotation to show it was incomplete). We solved the smaller LJ issue by linking to other posts we were referencing and doing discussion link roundups. We solve it on tumblr by, again, linking to what we're talking about and even quoting multiple reblog chains in our own reblog of just one chain.

--

Tumblr's technical features and even general crap-ness aren't really the problem. 90s and early 00s sites regularly went down for periods of time unthinkable today.

The missing piece is people.

When one is in an active fandom with others who curate or with friends who let one know what's up, a site with imperfect features is easy to figure out and retrofit for fandom's needs. When one already feels out of touch and is between fannish passions—or at least fannish passions anyone else cares about—seeing the potential in a new site is hard.

--

Threaded comments are different and better.

LJ's built-in way to see everyone's blog in your own style was better. The automatic timestamps and the ease of seeing a paginated archive of an entire blog was better than tumblr's endless scroll and lack of clear date labeling. But some of that can be fixed with xkit or knowing your way around tumblr well.

A lot of it is nostalgia for the lj era and a refusal to take the time to figure out how to use tumblr in an oldschool internet way.

--

So by all means, people, weigh in about what made LJ great or how the culture felt at the time...

But if I see one more god damn response going "You can't have a conversation on tumblr!" in reply to my tumblr, which contains nothing but conversation, I am coming for you.

[megalony]

You're Okay

This is a new, rather angsty Eddie Diaz imagine, based on a request I got quite a while ago.

I can't seem to find the request in my inbox yet so to the anon who asked for this, I hope you like it and I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: When (Y/n) doesn't feel well, Eddie assesses her before he goes to work and she seems okay. But then she collapses, and the kids have to call 911 for help. And Eddie rushes back home.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eddie leaned his shoulders back against the wall so he could wriggle his feet into his boots and grab his rucksack. It felt strange getting ready to leave for work without lining the kids up and getting ready to drop them off at school on his route. But then again, Eddie didn't always work weekends, at least not in the morning shifts, he did the late evening shifts and nights on the weekends if possible, so he could be home with (Y/n) and the kids.

He checked his back pockets, feeling around for his phone and his wallet but just as he hooked his keys onto his thumb, he paused.

He spun on his heels, turning away from the door when Chris's voice called out to him.

"Dad!"

"What's up bud? I'm on my way out." His voice was soft but the smile on his face started to fade when he saw the uneasy expression on the twelve year old's face.

Chris was a morning person, he was always up early along with Eddie whereas the girls were still in bed, they hated getting up in a morning. Eddie had said goodbye to Chris about ten minutes ago and he peeked into the girl's room and kissed them both goodbye, even though they were groggy and still half asleep.

His eyes followed Chris as he trotted down the hall, still in his pyjamas but looking wife awake. He was clinging to the wooden rail Eddie had drilled to the wall to make it easier for Chris to move about the house without his crutches all the time.

"Mum's not well, she's in the bathroom." Chris tilted his head to the left, looking up at the ceiling for a moment while he pointed behind him towards the bathroom.

It was his routine to brush his teeth and wash his face before he got dressed but before Chris could even get in the bathroom, his mum beat him to it and practically fell in there. And she didn't look well; Chris didn't know if his dad knew she wasn't well so he thought it best to say something before Eddie headed to work.

He watched his dad's upper lip curl in panic and his rucksack dropped to the floor beside him.

"Oh Dios, okay." Eddie muttered quietly under his breath, scraping his boots against the laminate floor as he dashed from the door towards the hallway. When he reached Chris, he patted his shoulder and turned him in the direction of his room.

"Go back to your room for a bit, I'll make sure she's okay." He kissed Chris's head to shush his distaste at changing his routine before Eddie moved over to the bathroom.

Eddie's lips rolled together and he grimaced when he opened the bathroom door and peered inside. He found his wife sat on the floor, one arm draped over the toilet and her other arm curled around her middle. She had her cheek resting on her arm and she looked drowsy, but Eddie couldn't determine whether she had been sick or not.

"Mi amor, talk to me, what's wrong?" He crouched down beside her, arching his knees out so he was curved around her with her between his thighs.

He was careful when he helped ease (Y/n) up into a sitting position and he smiled when her head tucked into the crook of his neck. She looked one minute away from starting to cry and it made Eddie's heart lurch up into his throat.

He pressed his palm against her temple but she wasn't sweating or flushed and when he leaned over the toilet, he noticed she hadn't been sick; at least not yet.

(Y/n) didn't like Eddie seeing her like this, especially not when she was now going to make him late for work.

She could feel Eddie's lips pressing against her temple and his hands slowly rubbed up and down her arms. He hummed against her skin which made her shiver and when Eddie pulled her back and let her flop against his chest, she tried to smile and look up at him. They both knew her smile did nothing to calm him down, he raised his brow as if asking if that was all she could manage.

"I- I thought I was gonna be sick… my stomach hurts." (Y/n) grimaced and closed her eyes for a moment as she pressed her face into the crook of Eddie's neck.

She didn't want to make him late for work, but she couldn't help but lean into him and relish in his touch.

Her stomach was aching and throbbing and for a brief moment she felt like she was about to be sick. But when she got into the bathroom, she realised her stomach wasn't churning with sickness, it was a throbbing pain more than an unsettling feeling.

"Okay, well you're not burning up," Eddie tilted her head back so he could look down at her. His thumb brushed across the side of her face and he gently lifted her eyelid to check her pupils before he felt her pulse.

Her eyes were constricting to the light and her pulse felt strong and steady which were all good signs.

"Come on, back to bed."

She found the strength to loop her arms around Eddie's neck and he took the hint, grabbing her hips to pull her up to unsteady feet.

Something whined at the back of her throat and she dropped her head into the crook of his neck, bringing her hand up to brush his jaw while he kissed the top of her head and slowly guided her out of the bathroom. She let him turn her around so his chest was glued up against her back and his hands stayed firm on her hips as he started walking her back towards the bedroom.

The girls wouldn't be up for a while yet and once Chris got dressed, he would either make himself breakfast or come into their room to sit with (Y/n) for a while. She could sit down in bed and rest for a bit longer before she needed to be up with the kids.

Once they were back in the bedroom, Eddie helped her sit down on the side of the bed and he moved to stand between her legs. His hands cupped her face, tilting her head up in his direction so he could look down at her. His thumbs brushed over her cheeks and his wet lips smoothed against her temple.

When he felt her whimper, he gently let go and moved to crouch down between her thighs. His elbows rested on top of her legs and his head angled to the side, silently waiting for her to tell or show him where the discomfort was.

(Y/n) pressed her palm to the middle of her stomach before she moved both hands to rest on the bed to keep herself sitting upright because right now, she felt like flopping back on the bed and passing out.

Her teeth sank down into her lower lip and she tilted her head back when Eddie carefully started pressing his fingertips and then the heel of his hand against her stomach. The middle of her abdomen just beneath her sternum seemed tender, but he couldn't feel any lumps or swelling or warm, squishy patches.

He definitely didn't feel any hernias which was a relief, and there wasn't any tenderness to imply any internal bleeding, not that there should be. (Y/n) hadn't done anything strenuous to cause something like that.

"I can't feel anything worrying, baby. How bads the pain?"

(Y/n) knew what that meant. She knew Eddie was asking because if it was bad, he would call Bobby and take her to the doctor. She didn't want him missing his shift and messing the rota and the team around for her.

"Just tender, it's not bad." The truth was in her eyes, she wasn't crippled down with agony and she could get up and move about just fine, it simply felt uncomfortable.

"Either a pulled muscle or possibly an infection. Want me to stay home?" Eddie leaned forward to press his lips to her stomach and he moved his hands to her hips and gave a gentle squeeze.

If she wanted him to, if she only asked, Eddie would stay home with her and the kids. That wasn't an issue.

A soft smile formed on (Y/n)'s lips and she creased forward to take Eddie's face in her hands and reel him up until she could kiss him. His lips were warm and soft and she could taste the morning coffee on his tongue that swiped across her lower lip, begging for entrance.

"No, go to work babe. I'll be fine." There was no way (Y/n) was having Eddie stay home when he didn't need to.

He'd done enough of that when she had been pregnant with James and she hadn't been well. (Y/n) didn't want Eddie taking anymore time off unless the kids were ill or something was seriously wrong with (Y/n). It didn't matter how understanding the team was or how often Bobby said family came first, (Y/n) wouldn't be a distraction.

If there was no need for either of them to worry then Eddie could go to work.

"Message me later then, so I know you're okay."

He was being deadly serious and they both knew it, if (Y/n) couldn't message him or answer the phone and let him know she was alright he would panic and end up stopping by on a call to make sure she was okay. He didn't want to leave her like this but it was far too little notice to call off his shift, especially when he couldn't find a dire problem and (Y/n) wasn't crippled in agony.

She looked run down and in discomfort, but nothing too serious and that was the main thing that was calming Eddie down at the moment.

"Will do." She pressed another kiss to his lips before she glanced behind her to check the cot attached to the side of the bed. James was still asleep. The three month old would be due another bottle soon, so there wasn't much point in (Y/n) lying down or trying to get comfy, she may as well get up now. And she knew Chris was up and ready, the girls would be up within the next hour.

"Good, I wanna know you're okay."

***

"Can we go to the park?"

Leaning forward, (Y/n) arched her lower back out and closed her eyes, trying her best to take deep breaths to see if it would do her any good, but it didn't seem to be helping.

It wasn't just her stomach that was clenching and aching, it was her back that was starting to act up too now.

"Not today, baby." (Y/n) cracked her eyes open just enough to look down at the seven year old huddled into her side. She saw the frown that appeared on Louise's face and the little girl huffed, but she didn't try and retaliate. She could see (Y/n) wasn't feeling her best and without Eddie here, no one else could take them to the park if (Y/n) said no.

"Can we paint?"

"We've got puzzles out, come on."

She tossed the empty bottle into the sink and turned around with her youngest cradled against her shoulder. She began patting her hand up and down James's back to wind him while she slowly headed through from the kitchen towards the living room.

Chris and Libby had the puzzle boards out. With Chris's coordination he got very fed up with proper puzzles and trying to connect the tiny pieces together, but he loved the wooden puzzle boards. Where he only had to slot ten to twenty large pieces into place on the board to form a picture. And Libby was only three, so she did the block puzzles were there were wooden cut outs that had to fit back into the correct shape on the board.

It was easier for them both and kept them occupied, and Louise could join in or get a proper puzzle out to entertain herself.

When they headed into the living room, (Y/n) slowly went down on her knees so she could ease James into the rocker in the corner of the room. He would settle for another nap now he'd had his bottle and (Y/n) was more than relieved to be able to sit down.

The kids had all had dinner, which Chris had happily helped (Y/n) to make because he could see she wasn't feeling great. And now, if Louise joined in, they could be entertained and busy for the afternoon and (Y/n) could sit down and try to feel better.

The painkillers she took earlier didn't seem to be making much of a difference, it felt like some kind of pulled muscle rather than an infection like Eddie suggested this morning.

"Mummy," Libby spun round from where she was sat on the rug in front of the coffee table and reached out for (Y/n).

She scrambled up onto the sofa and cosied up into (Y/n)'s side, seemingly oblivious to the way her mum sat forward on the sofa and dropped her head into her hands. She let Libby cuddle up against her and wriggle her head onto (Y/n)'s lap; she clearly wanted a power nap.

"You okay?" Chris leaned his head back on (Y/n)'s knee and stared up at her with worry lines etched into his features.

Usually when she wasn't well, Eddie would either already be here or he would come home to check on her and look after her. Chris knew that if Eddie wasn't here and because he was the eldest, it was down to him to look after (Y/n) this time.

He felt her lean forward to kiss his temple and he grinned softly when she hummed. "I'm okay,"

She ruffled Chris's curls and kissed his cheek before she slowly slouched back into the sofa. She was relieved when Libby curled up on her lap instead of scrambling up to lay on her chest, (Y/n) might have cried if Libby pressed on her stomach when she was feeling like this.

She began carding her fingers through her daughter's hair and she closed her eyes, leaning her head to one side as she willed the uncomfortable feeling to dissipate. At least until Eddie came home. (Y/n) hated being ill when she was looking after the kids, it made her feel useless and she didn't like them seeing her when she wasn't well.

After a little while, she felt her mind start to fog over and she was sure she was about to fall asleep along with Libby. But the uncomfortableness increased to the point (Y/n) had to deadlock her arm around her waist.

Her features screwed up in sudden agony and her hands started to tremble as one stayed around her waist and the other moved to her chest.

Breathing was starting to become a struggle.

Oh dear. Maybe she needed to make a call to Eddie and ask his advice. Maybe she needed to tell him she wasn't doing so well this afternoon and might need him to come home. She promised to message him and let him know if she felt okay but so far, she hadn't done that.

She kept leaving it, reminding herself to message him in an hour, then another hour. (Y/n) wanted to tell him she felt better, that she and the kids were fine and she was back to herself, but every time she thought about messaging him, she didn't want to say that she felt worse.

Sitting forward, (Y/n) tried her best to take a deep breath but it didn't feel like she was able to. It felt like her chest was deflating more and more despite how many breaths she tried to take.

Her hands shook as she carefully eased Libby onto the sofa rather than keeping her laid on her lap.

The moment (Y/n) was on her feet, the living room seemed to spin in large circles around her and she couldn't do anything when her eyes rolled to the back of her head and her head flopped forward. Her body followed her head and she crumpled down to the floor in between the sofa and the armchair, causing both Chris and Louise to scream.

"Mum? Mum?!"

The puzzle piece dropped from Chris's hand and he scuffled to turn around and crawl over to (Y/n). He could feel his heart hammering away in his chest and each beat sounded like a boombox in his ears that were beginning to ring when (Y/n) didn't answer him.

He tried to shake her shoulder before he moved to run his hand up and down her chest like he had seen their dad do when (Y/n) had fainted once, but she didn't respond.

"Mummy asleep?" Libby groggily lifted her head from the sofa and started to rub her eyes as the pacifier hung out the end of her mouth, about to fall on the floor. Why was their mum asleep on the floor? Was this a new game they were playing?

"Mummy?"

"Get mum's phone." Chris gave Louise a nudge and pointed towards the kitchen where he guessed it was because he hadn't seen it in here.

He muttered 'recovery position' to himself, guiding himself through what to do. He stretched both (Y/n)'s arms out in front of her and lifted her leg before he shakily pushed her onto her side so her back was now facing him. He wasn't sure whether she would be sick or not and he knew she had to be laid on her side in case she was.

Chris had been shown all sorts of useful tips and emergency procedures, he enjoyed learning them from Eddie. And when he did the first aid class in school, he had been the best in the class because he knew everything first hand from what Eddie had taught him.

Now it was coming in handy for all the wrong reasons.

Louise came running back into the living room and crashed to her knees beside Chris, holding out their mum's phone which had one of their newest family photos as the lock screen which was flashing at them from all the movement.

When Chris waved his hand to the side, Louise took the hint and shuffled to sit at the other end of the sofa so she was near Libby and right next to James. Their baby brother was starting to whimper so Louise started nudging the end of the rocking cradle he was in to try and soothe him.

Chris's eyes began to water when he looked at the lock screen photo that wouldn't disappear no matter how many times he dragged his thumb across the screen. It was locked.

All he could see was the picture of Eddie, sat on the floor with Chris between his legs who had James in his arms. And both girls stood behind Eddie with their arms around his neck and their faces tucked close to his.

Panic overtook his system until he could barely breathe and he leaned over (Y/n) and flapped around for her hand. He smudged her thumb against the bottom of the screen at least four times to try and unlock it, but it wasn't working either.

Then he saw it. The emergency call button lighting up the bottom left corner of the screen. He jabbed his finger onto the button and when a keypad flashed onto a pure white screen, Chris punched in the three numbers that were engraved onto his mind.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Mum needs help, she collapsed." His voice came out breathless and rasping and he couldn't stop darting his eyes from (Y/n) to his siblings.

She needed to wake up. Chris wasn't old enough to be in charge yet. He was only twelve, he didn't want to be the one to look after his sisters or his baby brother. He only supervised them while his parents were in the shower or when they were going out on a trip and he had to make sure the girls didn't wander off. But Chris always had someone around when he was helping look after his sisters.

He couldn't be the on in charge, he didn't want to. Not yet, and especially not under these circumstances.

"Okay, what's your name honey?" The lady on the other end of the line sounded caring, there was something sweet to her voice. Chris couldn't help but wish it had been Maddie who answered his call, he knew her. She was almost an aunt to him with how he and his sisters considered Buck as an uncle.

"Chris."

"Alright Chris, can you tell me your mum's name?"

"(Y/n) Diaz… she- she said she didn't feel well, but now she's passed out."

Chris felt the need to put the phone on his lap on loud speaker, but he suddenly decided against it. The girls would hear the lady if he did that. He didn't want to frighten them when Louise was already in tears and Libby was starting to whimper in confusion.

He pinned the phone tighter to his ear as if it would ensure that his sisters didn't hear a thing the operator said to him. And his other hand started to rub up and down (Y/n)'s arm while he shook her a little to see if it would rouse her. He wanted her to wake up so he could hand the phone to her and have her tell them what was wrong.

She had to wake up. (Y/n) had to be okay, she had to get up and feel better, she had to be okay.

"Is she breathing?"

The question made Chris grimace and he shivered as he slowly leaned over (Y/n)'s back until his chin was perched on her arm. He pulled the phone from his ear so he could listen to her chest and his beady eyes narrowed as he tried to see if her chest was rising and falling.

She wasn't breathing properly. Chris could see her breaths were light, it didn't look like her chest was moving properly in his humble opinion. And when he pressed his ear to her mouth and felt the way she breathed against him, it sounded gasping and slightly croaky.

"Not good. Can you get my dad? He's a fireman, his number is one-one-eight."

Their dad was at work. He was a medic, he would know exactly what to do in this situation. He would be able to help them. He would come home and look after (Y/n) and then look after the rest of them.

Eddie always made things better. They needed their dad.

"Dispatch to one-eighteen, do you have someone called Diaz in your firehouse?"

A cold slither of dread crawled down Eddie's spine and he sat up straighter in his seat like his back was made out of wood and he couldn't bend in any direction. His left hand curled around his thigh and his right hand moved to press the speaker closer to his mouth before pushing down on the headset so he could hear the operator's voice more clearer.

Why did they want to speak to him? Why did they need to know if he was here? The reason couldn't be good, Eddie knew that for certain.

"I'm Diaz, why?"

His voice came out a bit more stern than he intended and his tone was dark with an edge of grit to his words.

He could feel the rest of the team watching him with hot eyes and confusion plastered across their faces. They were in the truck, aiming back for the fire station since their last call was over. Was Eddie in trouble? Did they need to make a detour downtown and drop him off to talk to the chief?

Was there a call where someone was demanding to be treated or seen to by Eddie, personally? Who would do that? Had someone seem him before and become attached to him? Eddie remembered a woman about five months back who had been relentless in asking him out. She wouldn't let any of the others in the team treat her and she had even swung by the firehouse to see Eddie the next week.

She hadn't been too pleased when he flashed his wedding ring at her and told her he had a wife and four kids who he wasn't leaving for anything in the world. It couldn't be her, though. Eddie hadn't heard from her since that day, she stormed out of the firehouse and never seemed to look back.

"We've got a young boy called Chris on the line, his mum's collapsed and we need a unit to respond. He said his father was firefighter Diaz."

"No, oh no," Eddie's head dropped forward but everyone froze when his left hand curled into a fist and rammed into the window.

The force was enough to leave a crack right down the centre of the window towards the bottom left corner and when Buck glanced down, he noticed one of Eddie's knuckles had split open. Eddie hadn't noticed.

"Go! Drive!" His voice was guttural and harsh and both his hands moved to deadlock behind his head that tilted up towards the ceiling.

"Dispatch, we're responding to the scene now." Bobby's voice was the essence of calm and controlled, despite how he increased speed and took a sharp right turn that had them all swerving in the back of the truck. He had a horrible feeling that this wasn't going to go down very well.

Eddie knew he should have stayed home.

(Y/n) told him she didn't feel well, and he came to work anyway. He shouldn't have left her. He should have gone with his gut and stayed home to look after her and the kids. If he did he could have taken her to the hospital if she got any worse. In the very least, when she didn't message him he should have rung her to see if she was okay and if she needed him to come home.

But he hadn't found anything wrong. He assessed (Y/n) himself. She had no fever, she hadn't thrown up, she wasn't crippled down in agony. He didn't feel a hernia or an internal bleed or any swelling. She didn't flinch or gasp or writhe when he pressed on any tender spots and she didn't have a rash and she wasn't warm to the touch.

How could either of them justify Eddie staying home when (Y/n) had been relatively okay to carry on her day and she had no major warning signs or red flags of any kind?

Eddie's foot began to tap incessantly against the floor until his boot was almost making an indent in the metal flooring.

Before Bobby pulled up on the front or had time to cut the engine, Eddie tossed his headset on the seat next to him and flung off his belt. He swung the door open before the truck came to a stop and he jumped down onto the path and hurried to the right to grab one of the medic bags from the compartment.

It was a relief to see Hen had followed along behind them in the ambulance. Either she heard the conversation over the radio or she had seen Bobby turn on the lights and followed him to their next scene. It didn't matter either way.

He could see Chimney going towards Hen, both of them clearly presuming they would need the gurney while Bobby and Buck raced to keep up with Eddie.

He stormed down the path and stretched his right hand up to the wooden frame over the top of the door. He fumbled around until he felt the metal key beneath his fingers. They always kept a spare on the high ledge above the door, it felt safer than leaving one under the plant pot.

It took him five seconds to unlock the door and barge inside.

"Chris? Girls, what's going on?" His voice thundered down the hall along with the sound of his boots that echoed and had the foundations of the house shuddering in his wake.

"Dad! Dad, we're in here!"

"Daddy!"

Eddie didn't like what he was faced with when he ran into the living room. Both the girls were huddled together on the sofa, tears drenching their faces and sobs bubbling past their lips. James was screaming his tiny lungs off in the rocker in the corner.

And there was Chris, knelt down on the floor with his feet pressed up against the coffee table, and (Y/n) laid out in front of him. His son had managed to move (Y/n) into the recovery position and he was currently gliding his hand up and down (Y/n)'s arm while he sniffed, trying not to sob down the phone to the dispatch lady on the other end of the line.

Chris hung up once he'd told the lady that help- and his dad- had literally burst through the front door. He didn't need her anymore and more importantly, Chris didn't need to be in charge any longer. His dad was here.

When the girls bounded off the sofa and scuttled around the coffee table to get to him, Eddie hunkered down to be at their level. He wrapped them up in a brief but tight hug and pressed a kiss to each of their temples before he tried to nudge them to the side.

"Girls- girls go to uncle Buck." He gave them another nudge out the way before he looked behind him towards the team. "Can someone get the baby?"

Bobby rushed forward to grab James while Eddie knelt down behind Chris. His touch was careful and tender when he held his son's shoulders and kissed the back of his head. It was clear that Chris had done a good job, he had looked out for the girls and done his best to care for (Y/n) until help arrived.

"Chris go wait in the hall for me." He muttered against the back of his head and shifted his hands beneath Chris's arms to lift him up from his knees.

"But-"

"Chris you've looked after mum and I'm really proud, but you have to go now."

Tears streamed down Chris's face when Buck reached out and gently ushered him out of the living room. He didn't have to stay on guard and try to look after (Y/n) any longer. He had done his part and everyone was immensely proud of him for taking care of everyone and taking charge of the situation. But the team were here now, it was time for them to take over.

"Okay baby, you're okay, I've got you." Eddie murmured quietly under his breath as he carefully rolled (Y/n) from her left side so she was on her back.

He inched closer until his knees were pressed into her arm and his hands moved to her neck, tilting her head back so he could assess her.

He couldn't check her pupil response, her eyes were rolled to the top of her head. Her pulse was thready and weak and when Eddie pressed his thumb to her lips, he noticed her inner lips were discoloured.

"How we doing?" Hen knelt down on (Y/n)'s other side and opened the medic bag Eddie had dumped on the sofa.

"Not good." Eddie didn't tear his eyes away from (Y/n) while he dragged his hands down her chest. "She had stomach pains earlier, I checked her, she was fine." His voice was gruff and his lips curled in distaste as he tried to check her breathing.

He assessed her. He did everything right this morning, he checked (Y/n) properly just like he would with a patient on a call. Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary or cause for concern. What had he missed? What signs did he miss this morning in his haste to get off to work? Was this his fault?

But when Eddie pressed his palm down on (Y/n)'s chest and moved his other hand to open her mouth, his heart seized up in his chest.

"She's not breathing!"

Eddie's fingers pressed beneath (Y/n)'s chin so he could tilt her head back and he pinched the bridge of her nose as he doubled forward. His stomach creased over his thighs while his lips attached to (Y/n)'s. He'd never given her mouth to mouth before.

Eddie never thought he would have to give mouth to mouth to his wife or anyone in his family.

If it were anyone else, Eddie would have grabbed the resuscitation mask from the kit to give mouth to mouth, but this wasn't just anyone. This was his wife. This was the woman Edie kissed at least fifty times a day. But Eddie dreaded the thought that the next time he kissed her, this memory would flash before his eyes.

He reeled up, taking laboured breaths while his fingers pressed to her neck. Her heart was still beating, at least he didn't have to do compressions, but her chest wasn't rising or falling yet, she still wasn't breathing on her own.

"Baby come on… amor breathe for me, please."

He leaned back down and attached his lips to her mouth, feeling like he was trying to consume her whole as he forced three breaths into her airways before he pulled back.

His eyes darted over to Hen when she took (Y/n)'s left hand and laid her arm across her lap. She made quick work of tapping (Y/n)'s elbow for a suitable vein and carefully pushed the needle into the crease of her arm. Eddie knew what it was. It was a dose of adrenaline. Her heartbeat wasn't in a steady rhythm and it was weak, they needed to keep her heart going and hope it would stimulate her lungs into working again.

Once the injection was given, Hen started up a cannula into (Y/n)'s left hand and set her on an IV with the fluids wide open into her system. She needed whatever fluids they could get into her to make sure her systems didn't start to collapse.

Swooping back down, Eddie closed his eyes and took the deepest breath possible until his lungs felt like they were going to collapse. He pinched (Y/n)'s nose again and smothered her lips, giving three more breaths while he silently begged for her to start breathing on her own. He didn't want to intubate. Eddie couldn't do that; that was how he lost Shannon.

But Eddie's head snapped to the left and his eyes widened when a noise caught his ears. Crying.

The girls were watching.

His eyes turned rabid and his lips parted into a snarl. Why were they stood in the doorway? Why wasn't someone stood with them and keeping them in the hallway? Eddie told the team to watch the kids, he didn't want them witnessing this.

The girls had just seen him give resuscitation breaths to (Y/n), they were young but they weren't naïve. They knew that meant their mum was gravely ill and this was something Eddie didn't want his children to witness.

"Someone get the girls out of here now!"

Eddie waved his left hand out in their direction while his other hand pressed down on (Y/n)'s chest to try and see if she was starting to breathe again or not. He felt like he was on the verge of passing out when (Y/n)'s lungs finally inflated and she took a strangled breath. The adrenaline was helping. She had to keep breathing; they had to get her system working back up to a better speed so she wouldn't have to be intubated in the hospital.

"Daddy-"

"Out!"

Louise took one step into the living room but her dad's guttural voice and the snap of his fingers made her jump back. He had never shouted at any of them before. He could raise his voice or change his tone with them and his facial expressions were usually enough to make all the kids listen to him.

But he never shouted like that.

A high-pitched wail left Libby's lips around the pacifier clenched between her teeth and she screamed when Buck swooped down and lifted her up. And Louise trembled when Buck took her hand and pulled her back into the hallway, gently whispering for her to follow him.

Sinking back on his heels, Eddie ran his hand through his hair while his other, trembling hand stayed on (Y/n)'s chest.

"They don't see (Y/n) like this." He muttered the words more to himself than to Hen or the rest of the team. He didn't want the kids to see their mum like this, it wasn't fair on them. Eddie knew they were all going to be scarred from this and he dreaded to think how it was going to impact on them all.

Now that she was breathing again, Eddie switched his attention down to (Y/n)'s abdomen. He reeled her shirt up towards her bra and began pressing his fingertips down in various places while he tried to think what her stomach had been like this morning.

No swelling. No squishy areas and no lumps or odd areas that would suggest a hernia or any other complication. And Eddie had never seen something like a hernia cause these kind of complications.

"She had stomach pain earlier, I- fuck, I assessed her but she was okay." His hand ran down his face as his jaw set tight as he looked back over at Hen. "Now her abdomen's flushed… and I can feel a lot of movement that could be a haemorrhage."

Her skin was very warm to the touch and unlike this morning, Eddie could feel a lot of squishy movement in her waist like he was pressing down on a water bed. Something had definitely ruptured because he would bet that it was a bleed that he was feeling in her stomach. This had happened while he had been out because he would have noticed this before he left for work this morning.

A frown pulled at Hen's lips and she looked down and turned (Y/n)'s hand over to check her palm and her fingertips.

"Skin's discoloured, bleeding, breathing problems…" Their eyes locked as Hen's words settled in Eddie's mind and a diagnosis dawned on both of them at the same time.

"Oh Dois, aortic aneurysm, it's probably burst." Eddie could scarcely breathe as he spoke.

That would make sense. The artery from the heart down to the stomach had had an aneurysm build up where the blood started to form a lump. That would explain the discomfort (Y/n) experienced this morning but why Eddie didn't find any symptoms or signs. And if it had burst, that meant all the blood was welling up in her stomach and not reaching the rest of her body.

"Chim bring in the gurney!"

"We have to move her, she needs an ultrasound and an OR." Eddie's hands shook as he slid his arms beneath (Y/n)'s frame and carefully lifted her from the floor. While Hen held her wrist and made sure the IV wasn't tangled and it didn't come loose from her hand.

Once she was laid on the gurney, Eddie grabbed the oxygen mask and strapped it over her mouth and nose and attached a monitor to her index finger.

"Eddie, Buck's gonna stay here with the kids and we'll take you to the hospital."

Bobby's words relieved something in Eddie's chest, but when his eyes locked on the kids as he moved the gurney into the hallway, his stomach clenched.

They were traumatised.

Chris was burrowed into Buck's leg, swaying back and forth in a stimming manner that showed he wasn't coping very well and Eddie could see his shoulders quaking as he cried. Louise was stood with Bobby, sobbing loudly and clinging to the Captain who was trying to settle the newborn in his arms. And Libby was cradled in Buck's arms, crying and whimpering into his neck.

He didn't want to leave them, but he didn't have any other choice. He could either stay here with the kids, or go down to the hospital with (Y/n). But he couldn't do both. He couldn't be in two places at once, and as much as the kids needed him, he had to follow (Y/n).

If something happened at the hospital, Eddie had to be there to speak to the doctors. He was her husband, her emergency contact, her next of kin, if they had to make a decision at the hospital it would be down to Eddie to make those choices.

He had to go with (Y/n) and make sure she was going to be alright, and then he would have to come back and console the kids.

And he had no idea how he was going to do either of those things.

[roturo]

⋆⭒˚｡⋆₊ ⊹ CHAMPAGNE CONFETTI

₊˚⊹♡ I WANNA SEE IT IN MOTION! IN 3D! gojo satotu, geto suguru, nanami kento, yuta okkotsu, megumi fushiguro˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

tags: sexting, degradation, some of them have sub/dom dynamics, semi public arousal (?), sex videos (do not practice this irl), friends with benefits, established relationships, and more idk.

A/N: such a weird combination of jjk men lol

gojo satoru

he was tired and annoyed once he got to the hotel after killing some stupid curses that easily a grade 2 sorcerer could do the work– but oh how they have been insisting on him to continue doing missions this days. he swears it’s utahime’s fault to finally take control over the tokyo students and make them move to kyoto.

but the true thing is that he was also so pent up after spending a long time without you beside him, he would call it a day after taking a shower and lay in bed– but a notification on his phone stopped him before doing so.

1 attachment sent

i bought this new pair, it reminded me of your eyes, i miss you:(

and holy fuck- he swears if he wasn’t in just a pair of black briefs his cock would suffocate because of how fast he got hard– his hand immediately traveling trough and start working nicely to release the feeling. the pre-cum being more than enough to lubricate his cock and make it easier to jerk off– with one hand he opened up the camera and took a video before sending it to you.

sounds of whines and whimpers coming out of the video, making you immediately wet– a visible wet patch forming in your panties, he sounded so pretty– pretty enough to reply to him with another video of you coming –still with your panties on– by just rubbing yourself in the pillow.

“ah fuck it– someone else can take care of this mission”

geto suguru

he’s not a fan of it– he prefers having it in real motion in 3D– and he knows that because when you do send him some risky text or picture is just to piss him off– or maybe he likes to think you’re just a horny slut for him. 

but fuck it, why he couldn’t be the horny slut just for once this time? just one time –that’s what he promised himself– the idea of you going out with your friends today, the dress you were wearing being a lil bit too much short for his liking –not wanting to be the type of boyfriend he wouldn’t let you wear whatever you want– and he knows other men will be seeing you and get hard just at the thought of you, so that’s why he needed you like right now.

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wouldn’t u be so nice to come back home and help me relieve some stress? pls baby, i need you.

and this was surprising as fuck because geto was always so dominant, making you the needy one in the relationship, so this wasn’t an opportunity to waste.

send a video of yourself to show me how much you want me.

1 attachment sent

fuck, i’m typing with just one hand rn, all i can think of is your pretty lips around my cock.

you were in the restroom of the bar you decided to go out with your friends, core pulsing, surely there was a wetness coming out of you, trying to release some tension, you tried to find some friction by rubbing your thighs together.

i’m going back home baby, do not cum.

nanami kento

“you fucking horny needy slut.” 

he exhaled, the words barely hearable– he had to re-adjust in the chair he was sitting on, pants suddenly too tight, tie not letting him breathe and time going lower this time.

“Nanami-san, are you feeling okay?”

he wouldn’t admit it outloud but he’s a fan of the risky texts you send him, edging him and make him eager to go back home as soon as possible– but right now, it would be nice if you didn’t send this in the middle of a fucking reunion he had with some clients. this time you wouldn’t be the only one playing silly games– he would take a quick photo of his growing erection in his pants, with no text, no emoji, no nothing. and the reunion was stressing him out, he was so pent up that he’s a millimeter from standing and leaving.

you knew that, you fucking knew he was in a reunion, but you still decided to desobey him and be a needy brat just to be fucked stupid. and ohh he wouldn’t fall for your silly games, he’s not angry, he’s actually pretty excited to get back home and just edge you till you fall apart in his arms begging for release.

he couldn’t wait.

yuta okkotsu

he’s BRIGHT RED. he was supposed to be focusing on whatever gojo-sensei was talking about, but the moment he opened up your message he expected everything else but this. 

and he thinks this was an accident, but no way– the way your body looks, how good your tits looked, damn. 

1 attachment sent.

why won’t you come and play with me instead yuta~ ;( 

shit, he felt his cock throb and start growing inside his pants– it was so painful to see you like that and can’t have the real thing in 3D to touch, he swears he could just cum if you showed up in front of him like that-

“Are you okay Yuta?”  Maki’s voice brought him back to reality, the sudden pain of his cock searching for release becoming a little bit too much to bear– he needed to do something right now.

He excused himself to the restroom, clear erection showing on his pants– praying to god no one saw it, a wet patch forming in it thanks to the amount of pre-cum he was leaking right now.

1 attachment sent

lewd sounds came from the video; panting, whimpers, and moans saying your name– you never thought he would answer back, fuck- you even thought this was going to ruin your relationship with yuta, but holy fuck. 

there he was, fucking his fist in the bathroom at the image of you, sudden cum painting the mirror, loud whimpers came out of him, telling you how much he needed your little pussy wrapped around his cock–

I’m going to your dorm rn, cant wait anymore

megumi fushiguro

okay. you were supposed to be only friends but god damn. he swears it was the time– suddenly the texts turned more risky and now you’re sending him a video of rubbing yourself with your pillow with his shirt. 

and he was never this eager to cum, biting the lower part of his shirt so he could keep his moans back and not wake up Yuuji in the other group (plus he was way too needy to take his shirt off), phone on the other hand on a video call with you while he shows the lewd image of himself fucking at your own movements between a screen.

fuck gojo-sensei, why did he had to send him on a mission? he needs to see you like that but instead of a pillow being the thing you’re rubbing your pussy into, it needs to be his cock instead.

“Ah- ffuck…” small sounds calling out your name came from megumi’s mouth, almost audible thanks to the shirt preventing him from moaning out loud, “sshit, i just wanna be back to see you and touch you baby, i know you won’t regret this.” strips of cum coming out of him, the view making you dizzy and helping you reach your own high too.

[reveluving]

heartburn ; the ghoul x reader

summary: kindness gets people killed in the wasteland, and yet, cooper can't help it when it's you.

warnings: s~mut obv (minors DNI!), pre-war performer/entertainer!reader (for your creativity!); now an immortal ‘smoothskin’, soft as hell but our lovely ghoul is still a loud mouth, age gap but not really (think of him in his 40s & you in your 20s/30s but both in 200-ish years old), typical fallout violence & explicit language, loads of banter & fluff!

a/n: it’s here! based on this because the brain rot was (and is) so real. decided to call this the ‘la rouge series’, just to make it easier for tagging and when any lil’ pieces/asks come in. hope you guys enjoy & don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» curious about my writing? come & check out my main m.list!

» smut includes: possessive soft & slightly mean dom!cooper, ‘pretty girl’ & baby as pet names, dirty talk i.e. + about exhibitionism (it doesn’t happen tho!), body appreciation, nipple play, spanking, fingering, a bit of edging/teasing, unprotected s~ex (p in v), bits of aftercare but overall, coop likes it nasty.

'It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.' ;

It should’ve been uncomfortable; the sheen of perspiration building up along your body, despite the cooler night, albeit marginally as opposed to the day. Had it not been for the ceiling fan, no matter how slow it gets once in a while, you were indebted to its existence. 

Especially at this exact moment, throwing your head and watching the contraption spin above you as Cooper bucked up into you. 

Lucy had dozed off, you checked an hour prior, finding her asleep in the old guestroom when you stopped by. Maximus, too, snoring away on the wingback chair next to her. Whether it was because you entered with light steps or the duo were bone-tired, you had successfully spread the thin sheets over their figures before turning the table lamp off—all of which Cooper watched behind the door, feeling an overwhelming emotion brewing in him. 

You barely knew them, hell, he was there when you shot Lucy a chilling look, realizing she was the daddy’s girl, but beyond that, you also saw two souls who were… lost. A set of strangers who wanted nothing more than to do the good thing, even if you didn't agree with their beliefs. And yet, the old caring nature in you couldn’t help but offer at least some form of appreciation for their humanity. 

You held yourself back when Lucy babbled, even if—when you wanted nothing more than to cuss her father out. You didn’t lash out when she asked about your time in the shelters way before her mother was around. You acknowledged Maximus’s good intentions, even if they were a little gullible. 

Cooper noticed it all, and fuck, if your unmoveable kindness wasn’t disgustingly the sweetest and sexiest thing he had ever seen.

It all felt like a typical romance movie after that, when you crossed paths in the living room, with you on your way to the kitchen when he stopped you. Delicately (and uncharacteristically, you might add) holding your wrist and tugging you to his chest to stare into your dreamy eyes. How a smile naturally bloomed on your face as you reached for his jaw. He indulged in your cutesy behaviour, as he always does, angling his head to kiss your palm while your eyes remained locked. It was worth holding back a witty remark during moments like these if it meant seeing you light up each time.

Not that you couldn’t handle them, if anything, putting him in his place wasn’t unheard of—you knew how to shut him up with that aura of yours from time to time.

But make no mistake; he knew how to get you tongue-tied, too.

He dipped his head, and the kiss that came was nasty. Swallowing your little gasp when he took hold of your jaw. 

“Here?” You whispered incredulously between giggles when he led you to the couch. All he gave you was a grunt, falling back into the seat and pulling you with him. Your legs snugged around his as he encouraged you to sit, not hover him. The soft tune that played in the kitchen reminded you of a scene out of a cheesy porno from your old days, and when he hummed along, you knew he had the same thoughts, too.

“It's our house,” He grinned, “Means our rules.” 

“Uh-huh,” You humoured, amused as you shook your head, but the use of ‘our’ did send butterflies to your stomach, “Mind elaborating, handsome?” 

He explained all-too-happily, “It means y'got every right throw y'guests t’the doghouse if they start yappin’ ‘bout indecency.”

You say that now, but you knew he would shoot one in between their eyes for ogling you clothed, let alone in your glory. He has done it before. 

Countless times.

But you’d kick him to the doghouse if he ever got blood on your floors. And just to piss him off further, you’d allow Dogmeat to sleep on the bed with you. 

“You'd like to do that, wouldn't you?” I snorted.

His eyes lit up, taking your words as a green light, “Y'offerin’?” 

You smacked his chest. “I know your games, cowboy. Room’s not far, y’know?”

“Aww, c'mon,” Calloused fingertips traced up your legs before slipping under the skirt, alternating between kneading and smacking your ass repeatedly to hear your squeaks, “When's the last time y'and I messed ‘round in the livin’ room?” 

“Just last week.” You huffed, partially from the way his hips rolled against yours.

With any lack of action and the undeniably warmer weather throughout the day, you thought it was time to enjoy the night breeze with a slit skirt. The hems were slightly burnt off from past confrontations, involving a near-fatal experience with a Molotov cocktail, but besides that, it was relatively intact. 

And just like you, it was Cooper’s favourite piece, too.

“Mm,” He acknowledged with a grunt, “Far too long t’me.”

He leaned back, arms spread across the backrest while looking at you expectantly

“Y’gon’ take it off f’me or…?” He asked. You rolled your eyes—as if you could ever refuse him. 

But you couldn’t just give it to him, right?

You sat back, poised and coy, toying with him when you gazed up at him through your lashes. In the mood to give him a little show as it seemed like your guests were going to stay out cold for a while.

You were definitely teasing him when you popped the buttons of your shirt, only to let it droop around your elbows, just enough to get a glimpse of your cleavage and pesky black bra. 

Reaching over, you dragged your index finger from his Adam’s apple, down to the collar. His overcoat long gone for your convenience, uncovering his chest without problems.

He was always intrigued, and if he was being honest, in disbelief by your fascination—by your need to have him unclothed in some form of way, despite his condition. The wariness grew over time, and he had not only relished it in but encouraged you for it, too. 

Bunching up and pushing your skirt to the side, his fingers rubbed your pussy through your panties. He sighed, feeling the patch of wetness that soaked through the fabric. He was excited as you were, eager to feel you against him as he shifted under you.

He raised his fingers to his lips, sucking on his middle finger sloppily and groaning at your taste before dipping them under your panties. He straightened, pulling you forward by the back of your head as he prodded a finger into you. The position had you arching, chest to chest as he forced you to moan in his ear. 

At your mewls, he was more than content to give you another, sinking his ring finger in bit by bit to feel you clench desperately. 

He revelled in the warmth, the tightening of your warm walls as if fearing he'd pull out. The more you felt him curl inside you, the more useless it was to muffle your cries. The embarrassing squelch didn’t help either, but how couldn’t you, with that romantic stunt he pulled moments ago?

He tapped on your hips, silently requesting you to hold yourself up for a moment while he shoved his pants down. His cock stood with pride, twitching at the cool air and the anticipation to feel what his digits were feeling.

Pushing your panties to the side, he lined up the head of his cock to your pussy.  He was practically dreaming of feeling you sink onto him at once, already bucking his hips to fill you to the hilt. Instead, you took him in ever so slowly, bit by bit before raising your hips till there was nothing more than the tip of him in you. Taking him in little by little as he teased you with his fingers.

“Y'tryin’ t’kill me?” He gritted out.

“You can handle it.” You cooed back, already losing composure as you felt up his chest.

He groaned, eyeing you dangerously only to shudder when your thighs slammed against his. You felt full, hell, you were full, needing a moment as your fingernails dug into his skin. 

“Fuuuck,” He groaned, tipping his head back though forcing himself not to close his eyes to watch your tits bounce as you moved faster, “Look at y'go. Yeah, ride m’cock, pretty girl. Juuust like that.” 

His praises had you pulsing around him, but so did his desperation. Slowing down once again to feel him buck under you. 

But there was also something else about tonight.

Familiarity was putting his feelings lightly, unable to tear his eyes off as images of the same smile, maybe just a tad more innocent about the world, flashed before his eyes. Remembering his lucky encounters with you when you were both stars. When the two of you had dreams. When your worries at the time were nothing more than bringing joy to the people who watched you perform like you had hung the moon. 

He could never forget admiring you and your artistry, similar to how you marvelled at his productions in awe, even after when they were nothing more than a man on a horseback before it all went to hell. 

And to have him before you once more, albeit a bigger menace than you thought was possible, he was still your Cooper Howard.

Your cheekiness was wiped off when his hand dropped to your ass with a sharp smack, the slap drowning out the radio for a split second.

“‘Y'had your fun.” He growled. His hands held onto you so desperately, similar to the way you grappled onto his shoulders for support.

Your button-up was sticking to your skin just below your breasts, and as much as Cooper loved the little striptease, he wanted more. 

He pulled the article further down by your sleeves, where you shuddered at the feeling of Cooper’s lips latching onto your skin. The sensation rough as he nipped at your rib. He surged forward, salivating as he sucked and tugged on your nipple. He let out a heady groan, tasting a hint of salt while rigorously bouncing you up and down his cock. 

You were what pin-ups couldn’t emulate, what poets or authors couldn’t convey with mere words. 

Anyone, surface dwellers and vaulties alike wished they could have you.

He crept one hand in between you, rubbing tight circles on your clit. He didn’t relent when you trembled, when you tightened as you came hard. Not even when you spasm, overstimulated when he continued to thrust in and out of you.

He held you down longer than you would've liked, too obsessed with the way your walls fluttered around him. Begging for some form of friction as you clamped him like a vice. The mewls that followed were music to his ears, frustrated in the cutest way when he did nothing more than flash you an infuriating smile.

A tight one, you noticed. Unable to hide his own need for long as your juices dripped down to his thighs. He was… a little sick in the head—who would’ve thought—abstaining himself from chasing the high for just a moment, just to amp up the pleasure and feel his desperation sated as if he finally deserved the ‘treat’.

“Coop…” You mewled, nearly choking on your spit as his iron-clad grip forced you to feel each and every ridge of him up to the brim, “Coop–! Please! Please move, please—fuck.”

Oh, how cruel of him to deny you. Especially when you sang for him so sweetly.

You raised your head, lips parted as his eyes bored into your teary ones. Even when you became lost in your lustful haze, only able to churn out nothing but his name as hushed moans, he couldn’t miss the small dazed smile flickering across your face. 

He couldn’t resist, reaching up to brush across the pads of your plush lips. And as hooked as you were over the proximity, you placed your hand over his, keeping it on your cheek. 

Your eyes screamed for him to go faster, to put you out of your misery. He pitied you to some degree when he rolled his hips.

“That too much? No, y'can take it. M'pretty girl can take what I give.” 

“Gonna fuckin’ come in’ya, y’hear me?”

“Oh, you’re tearin’ up, feels really good, doesn’t it, baby?”

He slammed you down as soon as he came, thighs sticky and flushed. His grinds slowed down, chest heaving till he had his last spurts of cum in you. He traced his hands along the bruising spots he had left on your hips, then up your sides, tickling you.

The corner of his lips twitched at your tired giggle, catching your breath with your face pressed against his shoulder.

“Y’liked that?” He matched your amusement, reaching over the dry towel conveniently draped on the arm of the couch and wiping off the sweat dripping down your back. 

“Mmm.” You hummed into his skin, already comfortable against him.

“Y’really liked it,” He reiterated, finding your playful eye-roll worth it, casually dragging the cloth under your chin and the area between your breasts before tossing it to the side. He let one arm outstretched on the backrest, “Y’need some water or somethin’?” You thought for a moment; you’d need a sip or two after all that, but you could hold it off for a few minutes. 

“In a bit,” You returned to snuggling in his arms, much to his satisfaction, “Can't you just carry me to bed?” 

“I would, but…” He trailed off. You followed his line of sight when it fell to his lap, not only reminding you of the mess but also if he stood up, well, you might as well fall with him if his pants dropped to his ankles. You knew he could clean you up and buckle his pants before carrying you to your room with no problem, he just didn’t feel like it.

And, well, you understood him.

“Fine,” You sighed, feigning resignation even though a little smile was playing on your lips. You knew each other too well, “But if I hear rushed footsteps or that girl yapping about ‘my eyes’, I blame you.”

“Not the first time you’ve ever blamed me for anythin’—m’poor ol’ heart,” He pretended to weep, placing a hand on his chest, only to catch yours when you tried to smack him for it, “See? Unloved, by m’own girl.”

You shared a laugh, and when he pulled his rest on your waist once more, you knew none of you were going anywhere. 

In minutes, you were finally able to take in your surroundings, recognizing the chorus playing in the background, a classic of Dean Martin’s, one that even Cooper couldn’t help but hum to. It was soft, no more than within your hearing range, even bobbing his head to the beat. You followed, too, and to your surprise, the two of you coincidentally sang a particular line together. 

♫ Your love made it well worth waiting ♫

♫ For someone like you ♫

You turned your head to head to the side before he could look at you after spotting the knowing smile he was sporting. And as the song came to an end, eyes droopy as he instinctively rubbed your back, his hat tipped down. 

You couldn’t help it, craning your neck and planting one final kiss, to which he eagerly returned before your bodies melded into each other once more. Relaxed and protected from the dangers outside your safe haven, even for just a moment. So long as both of you were still breathing, you’d take the bull by its rotting horns in stride.  

♫ Everybody loves somebody sometime ♫

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

a/n: fun fact! ignoring the fact that the concept of the game is inspired by the 50s and burlesques would no longer be as famous then, one of the many entertainer options I imagine for the reader (depending on the fic) is burlesque (?) dancer, which very much inspired this piece! not necessarily as her job in the old days but someone who knows a thing or two about it! but again, as the reader, you have the right to imagine whoever you or your mc however you’d like! ;; gorgeous rose divider by @firefly-graphics ♡

[ssa-dado]

Three Stages of Truth - SOS

Aaron Hotchner x bau!fem!reader Genre: fluff and a lot of fun bits Summary: After years of adhering to the FBI's "no dating coworkers" policy, you and Aaron finally crossed the line, keeping your relationship hidden behind a professional facade. The team, amused by your strict boundaries, continuously poked fun at your stoic, near-platonic interactions. Despite this, once you were home, everything changed. Three fun scenarios lead to one undeniable truth. Warnings: probably there's a short NSFW bit, nothing scandalous, minors can probably still interact (?) idk sue me Word Count: 10.4k Dado's Corner: The first two parts are heavily inspired by the delightfully unhinged brainrots exchanged with @c-losur3 (bless your criminally brilliant lawyer mind, this is all pure comedy). Finally expanded into something more fun… or at least, I hope so! Hopefully I met your expectations with your request, took some creative liberties just to keep you on your toes :)

masterlist

Arthur Schopenhauer, German philosopher, once said: “All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.”

---

Stage one: “First, it is ridiculed.”

If there was one defining characteristic that bound you and Aaron together more than any other, it was your deeply ingrained sense of duty.

Duty to the job, to the rules, to the team.

This profound sense of responsibility was what held you apart for so long, faithfully upholding the FBI's strict "no dating coworkers" policy, a rule neither of you dared to transgress.

It was that deep sense of responsibility that kept you and Aaron apart for so long, both of you strictly adhering to the FBI’s “no dating coworkers” rule. It was a line neither of you dared to cross… until, one day, you did.

When you finally took that step, it wasn’t as if everything suddenly became easier. If anything, your dedication to your roles only deepened. Years of hiding your true feelings had trained you well, knowing how to navigate each other’s professional boundaries came almost naturally.

And it wasn’t just about personal pride or discipline - it was about a shared commitment to keeping the team dynamic intact and not letting personal matters disrupt the work you were all so devoted to.

Worried that your relationship might disrupt that delicate balance, you both chose to keep it private for as long as possible. Every interaction at the office was carefully managed, every glance controlled. Even in moments when you wanted to let your guard down, you reminded yourselves what was at stake.

And when you finally told the team, it wasn’t accompanied by a sigh of relief or a relaxing of your professional façade, instead, you doubled down.

Pure stoicism.

No touching.

No lingering eye contact.

What the team found undeniably funny - and maybe enjoyed a little too much - was that back when you and Hotch were just “partners”, you were actually more relaxed around each other: a comforting hand on the shoulder every once in a while, sitting close together on the jet, chatting easily about anything and everything.

Now, you barely allowed yourselves even a fleeting glance. You maintained such deliberate distance that every rare look felt like you were cautiously measuring out tiny doses of affection from a secret reserve.

"Why don’t you two just kiss in front of us once, so we can actually remember you’re a couple?" they would jest during briefings, fully aware that the likelihood of such a display was on par with the office coffee machine working on a Monday morning.

However, this only seemed to encourage them to find even more creative ways to poke fun at you. During tactical briefs, a simple "Pass the stapler, please," from you to him could warrant theatrical gasps and someone fanning themselves as if witnessing an affair.

Or watching you navigate the halls with military precision, they’d nudge each other, whispering dramatically, "Alert, potential accidental eye contact in three, two, one... Oh, never mind, false alarm!"

In reality, the one thing that could actually make you falter was when the case wrapped up and all the tension, the sleepless nights, everything came down to a single moment.

All you both wanted was to collapse into each other’s arms, but instead, the only physical contact you allowed yourselves was a strangely formal handshake - stiff and awkward, yet somehow managed to carry the weight of all the unspoken longing between you, a small tradition of yours.

"Good job catching the unsub," you’d say, your voice steady, though your eyes shimmered with a warmth reserved just for him.

"Good job deciphering the pattern," Aaron would reply. His tone was calm, but his eyes lingered on yours a moment too long, betraying his deeper emotions.

In a daring whisper, you might lean in closer and murmur, "You looked insanely hot in that vest. I’m dying to jump your bones right now."

"I know, darling, but we can't," Aaron would reply, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "And by the way, if you could stop tying your hair up when I’m around, it would make things a lot easier."

You and Aaron had mastered the art of subtle flirtation, weaving little moments of connection into the everyday rhythm of work. Casual comments, quiet glances, nothing obvious, just enough to remind each other of what was waiting for you both at the end of the day.

If someone happened to get too close, you could easily switch back into "professional mode," talking about the case with ease, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

But once you were home, everything changed.

The moment the door closed behind you, it was like a switch flipped. Suddenly, you were no longer bound by the rules of the office. In your shared space, the weight of professional conduct melted away. You could finally let go - drop your bags, let the tension fade - and just reach for him. Your arms would find their way around his neck, as if you'd been waiting for this all day.

“Long day?” he’d ask, voice softened in a way that no one else ever heard.

“Long,” you’d murmur back, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before you even realized you’d missed him. “But I think I can be persuaded to relax,” you’d add, letting a sly smile tug at your lips.

He’d shake his head, but his hands would find your waist, pulling you close. “I’m sure you’re very persuadable,” he’d reply, and the warmth in his voice would melt away whatever stress lingered from the day.

There was no one to see you both now, no one to maintain appearances for, and the freedom was almost intoxicating.

You’d end up on the couch, half-curled into his side, legs intertwined, as you both debriefed each other not just on the day’s work but on everything that made you who you were, stealing kisses every few minutes just because you could.  

When paperwork demanded attention, it quickly transformed into another reason to stay close. You’d find yourself on Aaron’s lap, either at the dining table or settled into the couch, one arm draped around his neck as you both tried - mostly in vain - to concentrate on the documents in front of you.

More often than not, the papers would end up slightly crumpled, bearing witness to the playful struggles and distractions that ensued whenever one of you became too immersed in the task - or, more accurately, when the task became anything but the focus.

With a subtle wiggle, ostensibly just an innocent adjustment, you grinned up at him. “This is just more comfortable,” you declared, your tone overly serious as if you hadn’t used that same excuse every time you sat on his lap.

His eyes narrowed, a hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “Comfortable for you, maybe,” he murmured, his hands settling on your waist, fingers drawing slow, deliberate circles on your skin that sent your heart racing.

You stretched, arching slightly, your lips brushing the spot behind his ear that you knew he loved. "Are you saying you’re uncomfortable, Agent Hotchner?" you teased, your lips still grazing his skin, before pulling back to face him as though nothing had happened. "Because we can always switch back to a more professional arrangement."

He chuckled, a rich, low sound that reverberated against your ear. "It’s only unprofessional if we’re caught," he replied, as your hand began to roam up and down the middle of his chest, your movements slowed by the bumps of his shirt buttons.

You feigned shock, your hand pausing in its path up his chest. "SSA Hotchner, suggesting we shirk our duties? I'm scandalized." Your tone was light, teasing, your fingers now slipping beneath his shirt to trace the warm skin of his torso. His slight gasp was your reward, and you pressed your advantage, your touch bold and exploring.

"And yet, you're not too scandalized to stop what you're doing, are you?" he observed, his gaze lowering to the chaos of papers that had begun to scatter across the table as you moved to straddle him, your knees pressing into the cushions on either side of his hips. He immediately moved his hands to rest on your waist.

"Shock makes us irrational," you quipped, biting your lower lip. Your left hand rested at the nape of his neck, fingers threading through his hair to draw him closer, while your right hand played provocatively with the belt loop of his trousers.

His eyebrow arched, a sculpted line of mock sternness that didn't quite mask the flicker of desire in his eyes. As your fingers playfully tugged at his belt, a barely audible hitch caught in his throat. “Oh, I think the real shock came last week,” he murmured, his voice a low, tantalizing tease, “when you chose to critique my punctuation on that witness statement  - while we were busy on the coffee table. And, of course, it wasn’t even an error.”

You paused, holding his gaze with a look of feigned innocence, your hands slid slowly over his shoulders, fingers tracing the hard lines of his upper back as you leaned in closer. "I never said it was an error. I just suggested that a semicolon would’ve made that paragraph flow better." Your fingers danced closer to the waistband of his trousers, hinting at further provocations yet to come.

"And you expected a revision on the spot?" he asked, tilting his head slightly, his voice a blend of amusement and disbelief. "You’re lucky that I was too distracted by other things." He adjusted your positioning slightly, sliding your hands from your waist to your hips, pulling you flush against him so that the closeness allowed you to feel the firm pressure of his arousal.

“Lucky?! Look, it’s not my fault that, in that position, all I could see were your terrible stylistic choices,” you breathed out, your voice a sultry whisper as you began to kiss along the side of his face, tracing a path from his forehead down to his ear. “They were staring me in the face, begging to be corrected.”

His response was a teasing smile, his eyes alight with mirth as he leaned in, his lips barely brushing the sensitive shell of your ear. “You could’ve told me, and we could’ve tried something else.”

“Oh, no chance,” you retorted boldly, your smile laden with mischief. “From now on, it’s sex on the coffee table or nothing .”

He smirked, starting to place wet kisses on your neck, letting sounds escape from you. "Alright, but don't start complaining about ink smudges on your blouse this time."

"There won’t be any smudges if you just took it off. There’s a reason undressing is the first rule in the manual, you know?" you raised an eyebrow as you guided his hand from your waist up to your breasts, earning an amused look from him as he began unbuttoning your blouse.

And, inevitably, the papers would crinkle beneath you both, completely forgotten, scattering in a mess neither of you cared about. The only certainty was that later you would need to reprint half of those, but that's exactly why you had invested in a printer for your home office in the first place.

And, inevitably, the papers would crinkle beneath you both, forgotten, replaced by the quiet, magnetic pull that seemed to dissolve every responsibility the moment you were alone together.

Then, there were the slower nights, the ones where words weren’t necessary. You’d find yourselves wrapped up in a blanket, his arm around you, your head resting on his chest as you listened to his heartbeat, each beat sounding more like home.

He loved to stroke your hair, twisting the strands between his fingers. He would trace the curve of your shoulder, his touch a promise that echoed in the walls of your empty house, all without needing to say a thing.

Until he would.

"I love you," he'd say, quiet but direct, because he knew how much words meant to you and always would. It didn’t matter if it was the twentieth time he said it that day, he would keep saying it, never once straying from his purpose.

"I love you too, Aaron," you'd reply smiling, looking up at him, watching the way his eyes softened. His hand would brush yours, fingers intertwining in that familiar dance that he always led to his mouth, kissing your hand while still intertwined with his.

When he caught you blushing, though, that’s when the real teasing would start. “Are you blushing?” he’d ask, eyes twinkling with amusement as he leaned in closer, his grin widening as he watched the flush spread down your neck.

“Maybe,” you’d huff, trying to look away, though he wouldn’t let you, his fingers lifting your chin so you had no choice but to meet his gaze.

“You’re adorable when you’re embarrassed, you know that?” he’d murmur, his voice a low rumble, making it impossible to resist smiling.

“Pretty sure you’re blushing too, Hotchner,” you’d shoot back, arching an eyebrow. And sure enough, a faint hint of pink would dust his cheeks, and he’d laugh, pulling you into another kiss.

“Guess we’re both fools, then,” he’d say, his voice softer, that rare smile reserved just for you.

You’d settle in for the night, curled up on the couch, your legs tangled together, his arms around you, holding you close. Sometimes you’d talk for hours, sharing stories, inside jokes that made no sense to anyone else but always made him laugh, that deep, genuine laugh that seemed to shake away every shadow he’d carried with him.

In the kitchen, he’d steal kisses over the stove as you cooked together, hands brushing as you reached for spices, your bodies leaning into each other in that rhythm you’d both grown to know so well. You’d nudge him with your hip as he tried to take over, insisting he was better at chopping vegetables. 

“Let me handle this,” you’d say, swatting his hand away, only for him to pull you into a kiss, completely derailing your focus. 

“Or maybe,” he’d murmur against your lips, “we could just order takeout and go back to the couch.” 

“Terrible influence,” you’d reply, but you’d never actually order takeout; you enjoyed doing tasks together way too much, even if it meant sometimes letting him cut the vegetables, letting him win - after all, it was in his nature.

Lawyers always do everything to win, skillfully bending the law to meet their needs - and Aaron, he'd willingly bend you over the counter. You weren't quite sure whether to be flattered by that, considering it meant you were his personal law.

Hours passed like that in a blur, lost in each other’s presence, the outside world never seemed to matter, it was just the two of you, existing in your own little bubble.

But that wasn’t something you allowed the team to see. It was an unspoken rule between you and Aaron - quiet and composed in public, free and true to yourselves in private.

And it had worked.

Or at least, you thought it had, until one day, the team decided they’d had enough - if you two weren’t going to let them see the real deal, they’d just have to… intervene.

It started innocently enough, with Garcia orchestrating what she dubbed a "team-building" exercise focused on open communication. The twinkle in her eye was your first hint that mischief was afoot.

Morgan delivered the coup de grâce with a wide, victorious grin, making a seemingly casual announcement that sent ripples of mischief across the cabin. "Oh no, looks like the lovebirds have to sit next to each other for the entire trip! Sorry, guys. Plane’s tight this time.”

Hotch, clearly not about to let the team’s evil plan play out in full while you all had to start briefing about the latest case, immediately shut down the smiles with a sharp, stern remark. “What, you think we’re going to cuddle on the way to a triple homicide?”

Honestly, every time he could command an entire room with that dry humor of his, you wanted to jump his bones.

You couldn’t help it, it got you every time. Your man was pure authority wrapped in a smart suit and perfectly timed jokes.

Despite what everyone might assume, Aaron was actually the kinder one in the relationship. While he had the sharp, lawyerly precision to cut things off before they became problems, always quick to resolve matters - you, on the other hand, were far worse.

You didn’t rush to fix things or settle for easy solutions.

No, your method was more intricate, more drawn out sometimes it required humiliation before you got to the point. You were a master of patience, allowing people to dig themselves into a hole first, letting them build their own assumptions, and only then would you pounce, proving them wrong in the most delightful way possible.

Being a philosopher at heart, you liked to draw things out, just to let people stew a little bit in their own misguided assumptions.

In these instances, your strategy was pure, calculated evil - a slow burn of sweet, sweet revenge that only you could orchestrate.

Morgan's comment, far from a mere joke, sparked something much more dangerous within you - the thrilling anticipation of proving to them that they really didn't want to know what you and Aaron were truly like behind your professional facades.

“If we're traveling real tight this time, I guess I’ll just have to sit on your lap, Aaron,” you quipped, batting your eyes innocently at him.

Hotch blinked, his usual composed demeanor faltering for a split second, clearly caught off guard by your bold move. You could already see the faintest flush creeping across his cheeks, a rare crack in his otherwise impenetrable exterior.

But then, a slow, knowing smile tugged at the corners of his lips, the realization dawning on him that this was just the beginning of one of your devious plans.

He was, after all, your favorite partner in mischief. With a teasing glint in his eye, he patted his lap, a mock invitation and you wasted no time, making yourself comfortable on top of him.

The game was on.

“So,” you began, snuggling into him with exaggerated sweetness, “Hotch, you ever think about triple homicides?”

If you ever called him that in private, he’d probably have walked out on the spot, but here, in the middle of the case, using his work name felt like the only boundary left between you and the truth. It was the one little shield that kept the line between professionalism and the chaos of your relationship.

“All the time, Teach” Hotch murmured back, his voice low and humorously serious while his hand carelessly rested on your thigh, in its natural position.

Garcia, who ‘coincidentally’ happened to be traveling with you that day, shifted excitedly in her seat, mouthing "OTP" as she gave you both an enthusiastic thumbs-up, her delight in your theatrics clear as day.

Meanwhile, Reid looked on with wide eyes, his academic mind probably filing this under 'unexpected field observations’. "I... I think I should call my mom more often," he muttered, seemingly to himself but loud enough for others to hear. "I don’t think I show enough... affection."

Hotch’s fingers inched higher up your inner thigh at the mention of ‘affection,’ tracing patterns that almost made you question whether or not to intertwine your fingers with his to make him stop. You leaned in to whisper something cheeky into his ear, only for him to capture your lips with a swift kiss.

Now this, was unexpected.

His bold move even caught Rossi’s attention, who had been trying - and failing - to bury himself in paperwork, clearly uninterested in the team's antics. But Rossi had endured the deliciously excruciating tension between you and Hotch for far longer than anyone else. After all, there was a reason he still had that picture of you at his book release party in '99 hanging on his office wall - right in plain sight, as if to remind everyone who had been in on this secret for years, even before you two.

So you played it up even more, leaning in with a dramatic flair. "I love you," you declared, your voice slow and deliberate, gazing deeply into Hotch’s eyes. Every syllable was crisp and clear, you could practically hear the gears grinding in the team’s heads as they went into full overdrive, still scrambling to process what was happening.

"I love you more," Hotch replied, the soft chuckle accompanying his words causing a collective groan from around the cabin - yes, you two were cheesy, you and Hotch were far from the type to indulge in the most clichéd of romantic exchanges… probably because he already knew if you two ever started it, considering your competitiveness, it would have probably escalated into something so ungodly he didn’t even want to know.

"No, I love you more," you shot back, the stakes of your playful banter rising – you almost wanted to puke.

"Impossible," Hotch retorted, his lips curling slightly in that way that made your heart skip a beat. "Because I loved you first." you blinked in surprise, eyes widening just a little.

Now, that was new information.

But before you could fire back with another over-the-top retort, something in his gaze shifted, and in an instant, you found yourself pulled into a kiss, this one deeper, more intense, and completely unexpected.

The kiss was slow at first, drawing out the moment as his lips moved against yours with a deliberate slowness that made your pulse quicken, no room left for hesitation.

His hand slid to the back of your head, fingers threading into your hair, his grip tightened just enough to hold you in place, but it was gentle, as if savoring every second. His other hand found the small of your back, pulling you closer, until you could feel both of your shirts crumpling against each other.

The kiss deepened, his tongue slipping into your mouth with urgent intensity, exploring and tasting, oblivious to the hum of the jet engine masking the sounds of your teammates' shocked reactions… and the click of Garcia’s phone camera.

His movements were fluid and confident, each touch perfectly synchronized with the growing heat between you. You met him with equal fervor, your lips and hands moving in sync, the kiss becoming more insistent, more desperate – it was this raw, unreserved passion that finally pushed Rossi to his breaking point.

“Alright we got it! You were right! Stop it, stop whatever this is. We won’t tease you about the PDA anymore, I swear," Rossi exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air in dramatic surrender.

Thank you.

You and Hotch broke apart, the kiss lingering in the air as you wiped a smear of lipstick from his lips with a quick swipe of your thumb. Without missing a beat, you slid back into the seat next to him, immediately adopting your professional mask.

The sweet talk, the casual touches - all of it disappeared, as it should, leaving behind only the steely, composed agents the team was more accustomed to.

“Good,” you said coolly, taking the pen from your jacket pocket and clicking it with an exaggerated focus as you pretended to examine the case files.

It was as if the entire heated exchange had never occurred. Your calm demeanor was flawless, but inside, you couldn’t suppress the gleam of triumph in your eyes.

Oh, how you loved being right…

…Rossi, on the other hand, was still recovering from the emotional whiplash.

He shook his head with a rueful smile, a flicker of regret in his eyes. “If I ever see you two so much as glance at each other that way again, I’m quitting, for real” he muttered, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

Garcia, however, shot up in her seat, practically vibrating with enthusiasm. “No, no! Ignore him! You guys, please, be as mushy as you want. It’s a safe space here! I want this. We all want this,” she insisted, her eyes wide with fervor as she shot Rossi a defiant look. “Come on, meet me in the middle, Dave! I’ll buy you bleach! A privacy curtain! I’ll even throw in a soundproof booth! Just let them be adorable in peace!”

Rossi, who had clearly reached his limit, held up a hand, shaking his head in resignation. “I’d rather have earplugs and a set of blinders.” His voice was full of mock defeat, though it was clear he couldn’t stop the faint smile tugging at his lips.

"Really, Dave? Blinders?" Morgan chuckled from the back, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. “You’re not going to let them have a little fun? Come on, man. This is way better than watching you flirt with the coffee machine in the break room.”

At that, you and Hotch immediately turned your heads toward each other, exchanging a look that only the two of you could understand.

Oh, if only they knew the real story. If only they knew how much Rossi had a thing for that coffee machine...

… especially the one in the Section Chief’s office.

You and Hotch had both noticed it long ago.

It was impossible to miss, really.

Rossi’s eyes would soften whenever he found himself near that ‘coffee machine’, as if it held some magnetic pull. Or the way he would suddenly volunteer to deliver reports to the coffee machine’s office, even when it was Hotch’s responsibility.

It was so painfully obvious to you two - Rossi was absolutely smitten with that ‘coffee machine’.

But, of course, you weren’t going to spill that little nugget of gossip just yet. Not today, anyway.

Although Hotch’s dry humor kicked in, and he glanced over at Rossi. “It’s all in the Italian blend,” he said flatly, his voice as deadpan as ever. You squeezed Hotch’s hand tightly to suppress the burst of laughter that threatened to slip out – damn, how you hated how much he managed to let you crumble like that all the time.

Oh, how much you loved him.

Thankfully Reid came in to save the day “I’ll buy the earplugs, Dave,” he said in all seriousness, looking at Rossi like he was ready to place an order for industrial-sized ear protection. “And maybe a seat in the very back of the plane. For everyone's sanity.”

“Thanks, kid,” Rossi muttered with a sigh. “This is the last time I’m taking a flight with you two lovebirds.”

You exchanged a playful glance with Hotch, both of you struggling to keep straight faces. The rest of the team seemed caught somewhere between exasperation and amusement, clearly trying to hold it together, but clearly failing.

"You know, we really should've started this sooner," you mused aloud, crossing your arms and leaning back in your seat. "It’s such a great way to keep everyone in line."

Hotch's lips curled into a slight smirk, though his eyes stayed locked on the case files in front of him. "Next time, I'll save the theatrics for after the case. If we make it that far."

“Good call, as always, Unit Chief,” you replied, your voice playful, but just serious enough to leave them wondering if you were still messing with them or if something had changed.

And that’s when it happened - the first domino fell.

Hotch’s hand, now shifted from the table to rest on your knee.

The weight of his touch was different this time - it wasn’t calculated, nor was it part of the show you’d put on to mess with everyone - it was simply him, expressing something real.

For a moment, you froze, the air around you feeling suddenly charged with something more intimate than you’d allowed to settle between you at work. But as you looked at him, you saw that he wasn’t expecting you to respond theatrically, either.

His gaze was steady, his hand resting casually, without any of the usual distance he’d maintained before.

The shift was subtle, but it was there.

You let out a soft breath, your muscles relaxing for the first time all day as you allowed yourself to lean slightly into the touch. “Thanks,” you whispered, your voice barely audible, but Hotch caught the meaning behind it. He squeezed your knee just slightly, a wordless acknowledgment that you were both on the same page.

Maybe it was time to stop being so stiff…

---

Stage two: Second, it is violently opposed.

…and so you did.

Over time, you allowed yourselves some liberties here and there — small gestures, quiet moments shared in the midst of the chaos of the job - only when no one was watching, of course.

You still made sure that the workplace environment remained as professional as possible, the last thing you wanted was for anyone to feel uncomfortable or for your relationship to ever be questioned.

But if there was one thing Aaron was particularly good at, it was finding loopholes.

He would argue, “It’s not a breach of the rule if the statement isn’t clear on that at all." And when the rules weren’t clear, he was quick to take advantage of it, slipping into those grey areas that never seemed to get any real clarification.

Lawyers.

The rule had applied to the workplace, yes, but it never specifically mentioned physical spaces - like the FBI parking lot, or the elevator. So more often than not, you and Aaron found yourselves “stretching” the limits there, enjoying those quiet moments away from the eyes of the team.

The elevator rides were your favorite…

There, it was just you two, no cameras, no one listening, and nothing to hold you back. Sometimes it was just a kiss, other times... well, you both liked to test just how far you could go before someone walked in.

But, as always, timing had a funny way of messing everything up. It seemed like every time you’d start kissing or your hands would wander just a little too much, someone would always show up.

And somehow, it was always Rossi.

No one else.

Just him.

It never failed.

He’d clear his throat loudly, or tease you both with that exasperated tone of his, as if he was constantly trying to escape what he couldn’t avoid. It was like he had some sort of sixth sense for catching you two in those exact moments, and no one else seemed to be quite as lucky - or unlucky, depending on how you looked at it.

At this point, Rossi had had enough of the cosmic joke that always seemed to land him in the middle of your most inconvenient, and often highly personal, moments.

His will was already written, and it came with a very clear clause: Only one of them is allowed at his funeral or grave at a time. Lovebirds policy only. He had his reasons, of course, he didn’t need to explain why he didn’t want to see that particular dynamic at his final resting place.

So, in his infinite wisdom - and desperation - Rossi scheduled a mandatory HR seminar.

“Dave, I don’t have to attend the seminar, I’m Unit Chief” Hotch told him one afternoon, looking as though he might be able to talk his way out of it.

“Oh no, you do,” Rossi shot back, practically pointing at Hotch like he was an unruly student. “You’re the very reason I called them in. You and your... antics.” He threw his hands up dramatically. "This has to stop."

You exchanged a look with Hotch, trying not to laugh at how utterly serious Rossi was about this whole thing. But as usual, Hotch wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. “We’re managing it well, Dave. We never cross professional boundaries when you’re around.”

Not exactly, it should have been ‘we never cross professional boundaries when we know you’re around’.

But he continued talking anyways, intense and relentless as usual “In fact, we don���t even sit next to each other on the jet anymore, especially after hearing someone mention how she falls asleep on my shoulder after cases and thought it was 'cute,' apparently,” he said, glancing at you with a playful look.

Rossi’s eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Oh, don’t start with that," he grumbled. "I know you two are playing some kind of game with me. And don’t act like you’re the picture of professionalism, Aaron, just because you sit on opposite ends of the jet."

Hotch then took a deep breath, rolling into lawyer mode. His voice dropped lower, each word becoming more deliberate – it was time to pull out the big lexicon. “Furthermore, Dave, I find it rather hypocritical for you to bring up a matter like this, considering you’re the very reason these fraternization rules were implemented in the first place. For the record, we’ve been transparent. Strauss was informed as soon as we started dating. There’s no issue here.”

Rossi blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in Hotch’s tone. He frowned, a bit of surprise flashing across his face. “Did she teach you the word ‘hypocritical’?” he quipped, looking at Hotch with a knowing smirk.

Hotch, taken slightly off guard by Rossi’s jab, blushed a little - his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink. He wasn’t usually one for showing any signs of fluster, especially in front of his team.

The HR seminar had barely begun, but you were already feeling your patience thin.

Everyone had been summoned to the bullpen, begrudgingly forced to sit through a mandatory lecture on fraternization and professional conduct.

Rossi, in all his glory, had managed to schedule the whole thing thinking that a lecture about fraternization and workplace boundaries would somehow curb the “antics” he thought were getting out of hand.

But what he definitely didn’t anticipate was the sheer chaos that would follow.

The HR representative - Carmen, an overly cheerful woman in her late forties with a name tag that read "Carmen" - stood at the front, facing the group with a bright, forced smile that didn’t quite match the tension hanging in the room. She seemed oblivious to the undercurrent of discomfort flowing through the team.

“Today, we’re going to talk about how to maintain professionalism in the workplace,” she began, clicking through slides on the projector. “Specifically, we’ll be discussing fraternization, boundaries, and how to handle uncomfortable situations when they arise.”

You exchanged a quick glance with Hotch.

This was going to be painful.

Carmen continued, oblivious to the growing tension, moving to the next slide. “So, let’s start with a simple question. What should you do if you ever feel harassed or like professional boundaries are being crossed?”

“Do you ever feel like there’s a couple who barely show any emotion beyond stoicism but make it a point to talk about…”

You blinked.

Stoicism?

Did she even understand what that word meant? It wasn’t just about hiding emotions or being composed. It was a whole philosophy, a way of understanding life and how to deal with adversity. And yet here she was, using it as some sort of generic descriptor for a couple that was, apparently, too controlled, while also being embarrassingly not controlled enough in their personal moments.

You could almost hear her thoughts: “Stoicism” sounds intellectual, let’s use that to make things sound deep and professional. But she was so off the mark, you almost couldn’t bear it.

Carmen paused, her finger hovering over the remote.

She clicked the button again with the kind of confidence that suggested she had absolutely no idea what the word stoicism even meant. In fact, as you sat there, trying to distract yourself from the growing tension in the room, you found yourself profiling Carmen.

You were pretty sure she had just Googled the term moments before this presentation, probably during the coffee break, her face lighting up when she stumbled across something that sounded smart enough to say in front of the group.

The way she adjusted her glasses after every click, the small, almost nervous laugh she gave when she spoke a little too loudly, and how she constantly tugged at her sleeves like she was just a little too eager to prove she was in charge - she was someone who tried hard to project authority but clearly lacked a deeper understanding of the material she was presenting.

Her behavior hinted at a kind of surface-level preparedness, just enough to get through the presentation without anyone questioning her qualifications. She was the kind of person who relied on buzzwords to sound impressive…

The entire room went dead silent, but Carmen, continued without skipping a beat. "Next, we’ll look at how professional boundaries really can be blurred in the workplace..."

“Stop shaving, your beard makes me want to schedule sick leave for the both of us.”

That hit you quite hard. Damn… you still remembered how you didn’t let Aaron get out of the bed for two whole days when he grew one of those himself.

Your weakness... how the way it highlighted the lineaments of his face, casting shadows like something painted by Caravaggio himself, was irresistible.

Not to mention the heavenly way it felt against your skin… oh you were so feral… you had never had so much sex in your life like you did in those two days…

Your mind wandered back to those moments, the soft temptation to bribe him into growing it back.

“Your lectures make me want to…”

Lectures? Very oddly specific.

“My son wants a sibling.”

You blinked, trying to wrap your mind around it, but then the realization hit you. Fun, the agents in that room who had a child could be counted on your fingers, so the words felt oddly out of place. But still, you couldn’t quite grasp why they felt so familiar.

And just like that, it hit you - 32 languages, three PhDs, and years of teaching... all now reduced to the deductive powers of a ladybug.

You hadn’t realized it until now - probably because you were still thirsting over the memories of your hot man with his hot beard - but those weren’t just any words.

Those were your words.

Your conversations.

The moments you and Hotch thought were just whispered between the two of you, moments you thought no one heard. And there they were, broadcast on the screen for the entire team to see.

A chill ran down your spine as the final line appeared.

“Stop quoting Hagel or we might have to leave to take something we left back in...”

The moment those words appeared on the screen, you felt something snap inside you. The misspelling of Hegel - with an A instead of an E - was a personal betrayal.

Your mind immediately spiraled, fixating on the glaring error. How could they get something so fundamental so wrong?

To have something so simple and fundamental, so easily identifiable, mangled like this felt like an insult. Your whole body stiffened in protest, and your jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

You could feel the weight of your teammates’ stares burning into you, but it barely registered.

It wasn’t much their reaction to the personal details of your relationship with Hotch that had you worked up - it was the glaring inaccuracy before you.

The universe had somehow decided that this moment wasn’t going to be about the privacy that had been stripped away from you, but about this mistake - a simple, careless error that was now at the center of your fury.

You couldn’t think about how embarrassing it was to be outed like this. Your brain couldn’t process any of it, it shielded itself consuming by the fact that someone had managed to butcher the name of one of the greatest philosophers of all time.

Prentiss leaned forward slightly, her brows raised in surprise, but her reaction was drowned out by your growing irritation. JJ, trying to keep it together, looked over with wide eyes, an unmistakable flicker of realization dawning on her face. Reid’s expression was a mixture of curiosity and confusion, as if he were trying to piece the scene together in his usual analytical way.

Then there was Morgan, letting out a low whistle, clearly amused by the sudden turn of events. But it was Garcia, sweet, innocent Garcia, who was practically glowing with excitement, a huge grin spreading across her face as though she had just won some grand prize. Her eyes sparkled with giddiness, clearly delighted by the personal details she’d just uncovered.

The entire team had turned toward you now, their attention fully on you and Hotch, clearly not expecting the turn of events.

And it was embarrassing.

But still, despite everything - the exposure, the teasing, the whispers of your relationship that had never meant to be public - it was the misspelling of Hegel that was making your blood boil.

Every fiber of your being screamed to correct it, to stand up and storm to the front and take the projector down, fix it, fix everything.

But before you could even move, Hotch must have felt the shift in your energy. His hand, almost instinctively, moved to rest on your knee. His thumb rubbed gently in small circles, a calming touch, grounding you.

“Y/N, stop,” he whispered, his voice low and urgent, sending a shiver down your spine.

You could feel his breath warm against your ear as he leaned in closer, the subtle press of his body against yours grounding you, even if everything else felt like it was spiraling out of control. “Stop before you point out they misspelled Hegel and make a lecture out of it, or we might have to leave to take something we left back in the car.”

It was a mix of teasing and flirtation, the very phrase the HR rep had just banned from its existence. And damn it, it was working. The fire in his eyes pulled you in so completely, you almost forgot where you were, who was watching, or why you were so angry in the first place.

You wanted to stay mad, to stand up and correct the error, but the way he was looking at you made it hard to hold onto anything except the electricity that was building between you. The rest of the world faded into the background.

But of course, Rossi - ever the opportunist - had been listening intently. He leaned in, catching your words before they even left your mouth. “She just finished saying that,” he muttered, a smug look crossing his face as he caught your eye.

You shot him a glare that could have frozen him in his tracks, but it only seemed to fuel his teasing. “Please, Rossi," you said through gritted teeth, your voice low and dangerous. "Next time, forget to plug in your hearing device so you can stop listening to things you don’t want to hear. Or, better yet, don’t make me tell you the very reason you’re hypocritical in the first place."

Rossi’s smile widened, obviously enjoying your frustration. "Hypocritical?" he repeated, his tone dripping with mock curiosity. “Maybe you should teach me more of those big words.” He was goading you, trying to get under your skin.

Hotch, sensing the escalation, placed a hand on your shoulder, his voice smooth and controlled as he stepped in to defuse the situation. "You're welcome to take your concerns about our so-called 'unprofessional conduct' crossing boundaries directly to the Section Chief, Dave," he said, his gaze never leaving the screen as he remained calm. "But mind you, you have no proof."

Still, you couldn’t help it.

The frustration and tension of the whole situation - everything that had been building up - finally boiled over, and you couldn't hold it in anymore. "And on that subject, Rossi," you began, your voice firm, steady, and dripping with challenge, "don’t you regularly cross those unprofessional boundaries yourself?"

The room went dead silent.

You could feel Hotch’s eyes on you, and when you glanced at him, you saw the exact same understanding in his gaze. You both knew exactly what was about to happen. The words had already left your lips, and now Rossi was about to learn just how much the two of you had been paying attention to his “subtle” behavior.

Hotch, the perfect picture of calm, added with the slightest tilt of his head and a mischievous glint in his eye, “We noticed that you and…”

Rossi, visibly caught off guard, stumbled over his words, “Why did I even open my mouth? I knew this was gonna make everything worse… porca puttana,” he grumbled, rubbing his face in frustration.

Carmen, completely oblivious to the escalating tension, continued with the presentation as if nothing was happening.

But you weren’t going to let it go that easily.

You leaned back in your seat, arms crossed, eyes fixed on Rossi with a smug grin playing at the corners of your lips. “You know, Dave,” you said, your voice light but dripping with satisfaction, “this lecture has been very informative. But maybe next time, you should make sure to include a few slides on how to keep your own relationships under wraps. Might help you avoid the hypocrisy.”

Rossi’s face flushed as he shot you a glare, but you could tell that, for once, he was caught completely off guard. “Oh yeah? Well, why don’t you join me and Erin for dinner tonight then? It’d be fun, wouldn’t it?” He threw back, but you could hear the hesitation in his voice as he scrambled to regain control of the situation.

You leaned over to Hotch, lowering your voice just enough so only he could hear. “Aaron, I swear if I see them even touching hands, I’m going to puke.”

Hotch gave you a deadpan look, trying to suppress a grin. “I feel you, but…” His tone dropped into a mock-dramatic whisper. “What if we crank up the unprofessional behavior right in front of them? Scare them off a little?”

You raised an eyebrow. Oh, this was going to be fun.

Hotch looked like he was seriously considering it. “That could either work like a charm, or - let’s be honest - knowing Rossi, they’ll just double down and serve us a taste of our own medicine. And sure, we love a good challenge, but…” He leaned in closer, his voice lowering even more. “Do we really want to go there?”

You smiled to yourself, already picturing it in your mind. “Oh no, I can already picture it.”

Hotch sighed dramatically, as if considering his options. “We could leave earlier with the excuse we need to work on paperwork...” he trailed off, giving you a look.

You smirked. “‘Paperwork,’” you said, making air quotes with your fingers, knowing exactly where this conversation was going. “Our paperwork?!”

Hotch and you both knew exactly what the other was thinking.

Hotch’s smirk turned a little more serious, and he leaned in slightly. “You know, we could always go all out. Maybe I could place my hand on your shoulder every now and then. Keep them guessing.”

You gave him a look, one eyebrow raised. “Oh, I love you, but I fear that would be too scandalous.”

Hotch’s smirk widened as he leaned back a little, but the glint in his eyes didn’t fade. “Well, then I’ll settle for resting my hand on your knee. Once. For three and a half seconds.”

Your eyes flickered with amusement, and you couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Wow, last time you only allowed yourself three,” you teased, knowing he had a habit of pushing boundaries, but always so carefully… you were an old Victorian couple with people you knew from the job afterall.

“I know, I’m practicing more self-control,” he said, voice thick with sarcasm but still looking at you in a way that made you forget you were attending a seminar about this specific behaviour.

You leaned a little closer, watching him intently, enjoying the banter more than you cared to admit. “You’re so hot when you’re so unprofessional," you whispered, the words dripping with playful intent. "Almost makes me want to kiss you on the cheek.”

Hotch’s expression never wavered, but the amusement in his eyes was undeniable. "So unprofessional..." he murmured under his breath, his voice tinged with humor but also something deeper, something more familiar with the man you knew in the safe walls of your house.

You didn’t need to be obvious to make things very clear. It was all in the subtlety, the small gestures, the private moments that only you and Hotch understood.

And as you both settled back into your seats, you couldn’t help but grin to yourself. It was going to be a long seminar, but at least it was going to be entertaining.

---

Stage three: Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.

After an evening of forced pleasantries with Rossi and Strauss, the two of you were finally free.

Walking into Aaron’s apartment, you let out a long sigh of relief, kicking off your shoes and feeling the weight of the night slip off your shoulders. The moment the door clicked shut behind you, Aaron turned to you with that familiar smirk - the one you’d missed to helplessly melt into all day long.

As if there had been no build-up, no tension at all, you found yourself pressed up against the door, his lips crashing against yours the second you crossed the threshold. The kiss was hungry, urgent, like both of you had been holding your breath all evening and could finally release it now that you were alone.

His hands moved instinctively to your waist, pulling you closer as your bodies melted into each other, until there was no room left between you two.

When you pulled away, breathless but grinning, you teased, “You know, after all that drama with Rossi and Strauss, I’m exhausted. Think I could spend the night here?”

“Well, I do have a guest room…”  Aaron raised an eyebrow, letting the words hang in the air, as if he was seriously considering it.

You narrowed your eyes, taking a small step back but keeping the playful smirk on your face. “Guest room? That’s so nice of you, love” you said, folding your arms. “But I was thinking maybe I could sleep in your bed you know, just for the night. It’s so cold here. I mean, really cold. We wouldn’t want me freezing to death, would we?”

Aaron's lips curled into a mischievous grin as he stepped closer, his gaze playful. “I’ll tell you a secret,” he said casually, his voice smooth. “It was all part of my plan,” he added with a glint in his eye. “That’s why I’ve kept all the windows open.”

He paused dramatically, his hands slipping around yourhips, pulling you closer. “Wouldn’t want you getting too comfortable, would I? Now, you’re basically obliged for cuddles.”

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at him, already feeling the heat between you two. “Oh, you’re so devious,” you teased, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, with just enough space between your lips to let his tongue slide in.

“You know you don’t have to plan so much for us to sleep together. I thought that was a given by now, cuddles included... maybe even something more. Who knows?” You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, the playful challenge lingering in the air.

Aaron chuckled against your lips, deepening the kiss with just as much passion, his hands sliding up to your shoulders, gently but firmly pushing you back against the wall.

For a moment, you both paused, breathless, eyes locked in shared understanding before you leaned in closer, your voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “So, how exactly do you manage to get to the office first every morning?” you asked, your smirk widening as the question hung in the air, taunting him.

Aaron’s smile deepened, a mixture of wry humor and something much more tempting in his gaze. He leaned in, lips brushing against your ear, his voice low and playful. “I love you,” he said softly, almost tenderly, before pulling back to meet your eyes. “But not a chance.”

You gasped in mock outrage, your hands finding his chest as you pushed yourself off the wall, trying to distance yourself a little. “Come on, no fair. You’ve been so open tonight with all your little secrets,” you teased, making air quotes. “Now you won’t share this one?”

Before you could move away, Aaron caught you effortlessly, pulling you back into his embrace. His strong arms wrapped around you, sending your heart racing. His lips grazed your ear again, his voice hushed and playful as he whispered, “I’ll tell you in 83 days,” his tone dripping with mock seriousness.

You froze, eyes widening in surprise.

The playful smile slipped from your face, and the warmth from his embrace spread through you, despite the coldness of the apartment.

You blinked, the realization hitting you all at once.

The bet you two had made years ago - the one where if he beat you to the office for 1,000 days, he’d have to propose - flashed through your mind. And now, he was casually dropping 83 days like it was just another countdown.

“Come on, don’t pretend you’re shocked,” Aaron said, his voice softening with affection. He leaned in closer, brushing his lips lightly against yours. “You knew this was coming, if you keep failing… this is your last chance to beat me.”

His lips captured yours in another soft kiss, and you could feel the unspoken weight behind his words. “Unless you really want to spend the rest of your life with me.”

Your breath caught, and the sudden heat flooded your cheeks, turning them a deep shade of red. You couldn’t help but melt into him, the gravity of his words settling in, even as you clung to the teasing spark that still flickered between you.

“You still have to find out my answer,” you teased, raising an eyebrow, your voice light but full of challenge. “You know, just to keep you on your toes. It’s not all settled yet… and who knows, maybe you won’t even ever know it. I’ve still got 83 days to beat you.”

Aaron shot you a pointed look, the corners of his lips curling into a smile. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer. “I wouldn’t be so confident, considering your terrible track record,” he said, his voice rich with teasing. Without giving you a chance to respond, he kissed you again - harder this time - his lips claiming yours with a passionate force that spoke of promises yet to be fulfilled.

You melted into the kiss, every nerve in your body aware of just how close you were, how real everything felt. When the kiss finally broke, your hand remained lightly against his chest, still feeling the thrum of his heartbeat. “Haven’t you learned yet that you should never underestimate me, Hotchner?”

Aaron chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your ears as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. “This is the only thing I allow myself to underestimate you on,” he teased, pulling back with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “You’re terrible at it. Even worse than your shooting skills.”

You raised an eyebrow, still smirking, a playful spark lighting up your eyes. “Oh, now you’re exaggerating,” you said, poking his chest lightly with your finger.

“It’s not like if I can’t beat you at something, I’m mathematically bad at it. And also, really? You expect me to outdo a sniper?” You tilted your head, teasing him about his former SWAT team background.

“Absolutely,” Aaron replied, his grin widening. “You still have to keep up with me on long-distance shots, and don’t even think about blaming it on your blurry vision.”

He gave you a pointed look, then leaned in slightly, his voice low and playful. “I still love you, of course, even if you might need a little more training from the ‘sniper’.” He winked at you, that familiar, mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You laughed softly, shaking your head, but the idea seemed to settle in your mind. “You know,” you said casually, leaning against the counter with a thoughtful look on your face, “I just realized something. If I married you, we’d have two Agent Hotchners on the team.”

Aaron’s eyes twinkled with amusement, but there was a hint of something deeper in his gaze. He leaned down slightly, getting closer as if he were about to tell you a secret. “Oh, so you’re considering it?” he teased, the playful tone only slightly covering the vulnerability that was starting to show through.

You leaned in a little closer, your voice soft and teasing as you whispered, “Well, we’ve still got 83 days to figure it out, don’t we?” You let the words hang in the air for a moment before adding, with a sly grin, “Unless, of course, you want to start planning now.”

Aaron’s smirk softened, a chuckle escaping him as his arms tightened around you just a little more, pulling you in closer. “Oh no,” he said, his voice low, full of mischief. “I still need to do everything in my power to make sure you’re the one to lose the most important bet of your life.”

You raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in your gaze. “Getting a little cocky, aren’t we?” you teased, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “Just because you think you’ve got me cornered in this bet doesn’t mean you’ve won yet.”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering as he leaned in a little closer. “Maybe I just wanted to make sure I’m doing things right,” he said, voice low and teasing. “For example… I wanted to check if sapphire was still your favorite stone,” he added, his grin widening. “You know, just in case I need to upgrade the plan.”

The question caught you off guard. You blinked at him, your heart skipping a beat as the realization hit you. “What?” you stammered, feeling a blush creep up your neck. “Shut up, Aaron,” you said, your voice a little shaky as you tried to recover from the surprise. “You’re ridiculous.” You tried to pull away, but his arms were still around you, pulling you closer, his grin widening at your reaction.

Aaron laughed softly, his thumb brushing your cheek, the teasing light in his eyes evident. “I swear, you’re so easy to fluster,” he teased, his voice low but affectionate. “You’re blushing, and I haven’t even asked you yet.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from deepening, your face now a full shade of red. You crossed your arms over your chest, looking away in embarrassment, but it was too late, he’d already noticed. “You’re going to be the death of me,” you muttered, feeling the heat in your cheeks spread.

Aaron reached out, his fingers gently tilting your chin up so you were forced to meet his gaze. His voice dropped to a quiet, serious tone, though the warmth still lingered. “Til death do us part, right?” he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face.

“Don’t make me cry,” you whispered, the teasing edge to your voice slipping away. The laughter, the playful teasing, they all seemed distant now.

Aaron’s gaze softened, his thumb gently caressing your jawline as he studied you, he didn’t say anything at first, letting the silence stretch between you. His hand lingered on your chin for a moment longer before he slowly, carefully, let it fall to your waist, his touch grounding you.

His voice, when he spoke, was quieter, more intimate. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said softly. “But if I do, I hope it’s because I’ve made you happy, not because I’ve made you doubt what we have.”

You swallowed, the words tugging at something deep inside you. It was the way he spoke to you, like he meant every syllable, that made your heart swell, and for a brief moment, you almost wished you could freeze time and just stay in that moment, locked in his arms, no words left to be said.

You couldn’t stop yourself from smiling a little, despite the overwhelming feeling in your chest. “Well, you’ve already got me feeling all kinds of things,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood again, even as your voice wavered just slightly. “But I think you’re safe for now.”

Aaron chuckled softly, his hand gently brushing down your arm, a reassuring gesture that made you feel grounded. “I don’t want to just be safe, though,” he murmured, his eyes dark with something a little more serious. “I want to be the one who makes you feel like you’ve found home, even when the world is too much.”

Your breath caught in your throat, the weight of his words settling deep in your chest, causing your heart to flutter in a way you couldn’t quite put into words, no matter how many languages you spoke.

There was something about Aaron - his warmth, his steady presence, his certainty - that made it so easy to get lost in him. You didn’t know what the future held, but with him by your side, the world seemed less daunting, less frightening.

“Then maybe you’ve already won,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. The walls you’d so carefully built around your vulnerability came crashing down, and for the first time, you let yourself feel the full force of it. “Maybe you’ve already made me feel at home, windows open or not.”

Aaron’s lips brushed gently against your forehead in a soft kiss, his arms tightening around you in a way that made you feel completely safe. “Then I’ll keep doing it,” he murmured against your skin, his words a promise, a vow, and a reassurance all in one. “Every single day.”

"In love, one and one are one." Jean-Paul Sartre

---

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[timetraveltasting]

ORIGINAL TOLL HOUSE CHOCOLATE CHIP COOKIES (1938)

Since I won't be home for the holidays this Christmas (we are going to Australia to spend a summery Christmas with my in-laws), I went home to Canada a little early for a quick trip - most importantly to meet my new, adorable niece! Surrounded by childhood favourites and nostalgia, I thought it would be a great idea to make a classic Tasting History treat with my mom: the Original Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies. This first ever chocolate chip cookie recipe, originally called Chocolate Crunch Cookies (a later newspaper typo created its now-common name), was created by Ruth Wakefield and her head pastry chef Sue Brides at The Toll House Inn in Whittman, MA in 1938. The restaurant was already quite popular among locals and food critics, and Ruth finally decided to share the recipe for these star cookies with the public. It was printed in newspapers, and the popularity of the chocolate chip cookie grew even further when Nestlé printed it on the back of their packaging. In the original recipe, Nestlé's chocolate is mentioned by name, and the growing popularity of the cookie recipe led to a 500% increase in profits for the company. Their chocolate bars originally had to be chopped up into 'pea-sized' pieces by hand until Nestlé began selling scored bars with the correct size, and eventually chocolate chips - created especially for making chocolate chip cookies. Interestingly enough, the original chocolate chip cookie recipe is very close to the one that is still on packages today. I have very fond memories of making chocolate chip cookies with my mother as I was growing up, and I thought, what better way to compare the two recipes than to also make this original chocolate chip cookie recipe with her! See Max’s video on how to make this dish here or see the ingredients and process at the end of this post, sourced from his website.

My experience making it:

Finally in my natural element in Canada, with easier to find ingredients that I recognized and could more predictably bake with, I was able to follow the recipe exactly. The one major change I made was to omit the chopped nuts completely, mostly because I'm not a fan of nuts in baked goods.

Because this recipe requires an overnight element, my mom and I began preparing the cookie dough the day before we wanted to bake and eat them. My mom began by beating the eggs, then creaming the butter with a hand mixer while I portioned out the other ingredients. She added in the sugars, eggs, baking soda dissolved in water, and vanilla and mixed them until combined. I then slowly sprinkled in the flour and salt mixture into the mixing bowl while she mixed, until that, too, was combined. I was worried the dough was looking a little too dry and dense, but my mom assured me it still looked right - I totally trust her baking instincts! We then folded the chocolate chips into the dough with a spatula, then covered it with Saran wrap and let it sit in the fridge overnight. The next evening, we preheated the oven, took our dough out (which had really hardened up!), and began portioning it out into little balls of dough. My mom had to use a fork and a bit of force to portion it, since it was so cold and solid! We used a weigh scale to determine the 14 oz. size of ball, but honestly, we did end up going up to 20 oz. or so at some points - it would have taken a long time to weigh every ball. On a lined baking sheet, we fit about 14 balls of dough, spaced about 2 inches apart. After pressing down on each just a little bit, we tossed the first batch in the oven. It smelled so good, and the bits of raw cookie dough I snuck while waiting for the cookies to bake were heavenly! When we took them out, we transferred them onto cooling racks. I think we baked about 5 trays of cookies overall, leaving us with an absolute plethora of chocolate chip cookies by the end! They looked small, but classic - almost like the chocolate chip cookies you can buy in a store. Very photogenic, in my opinion.

My experience tasting it:

Of course, our patience got the best of us, and we did not wait for the cookies to cool before trying them. No regrets! They tasted wonderful - crisp on the bottom and edges, but soft and a little melty in the middle. Really ideal, this kind of cookie could please everyone. My mom likes her cookies on the crispier side, and I like mine on the soft and gooey side, yet we both were very happy with how this recipe turned out. So was my dad, sister, my brother-in-law, and my aunt! In fact, these cookies didn't taste much different from my mom's chocolate chip cookie recipe (as I remembered it). She claims she also got her recipe from a newspaper, so it may have also had the same origin as this one. The flavour of these cookies was sweet, but balanced by the salt and rich brown sugar. They were so tasty, I think this could even become my main chocolate chip cookie recipe, although I will probably make each cookie even bigger in order to get a large volume of soft gooeyness. And I will definitely halve the recipe! 100 cookies or so, as tasty as they are, is an awful lot to get through and would definitely become noticeable on the waist. Otherwise, I agree with Max that there is a reason this recipe has lasted so many decades in its nearly-original form - it really is a crowd-pleaser. I was happy I was able to take some cookies with me back to Germany so I can share some with my husband! If you end up making this dish, if you liked it, or if you changed anything from the original recipe, do let me know!

Original Toll House Chocolate Chip Cookies original recipe (1938)

Sourced from Ruth Wakefield’s Toll House Tried and True Recipes by Ruth Wakefield (1938).

Toll House Chocolate Crunch Cookies Cream 1 cup butter, add 3/4 cup brown sugar, 3/4 cup granulated sugar, and 2 eggs beaten whole. Dissolve 1 tsp soda in 1 tsp hot water, and mix alternately with 2 1/4 cups flour sifted with 1 tsp salt. Lastly add 1 cup chopped nuts and 2 bars (7 oz.) Nestle’s yellow label chocolate, semi-sweet, which has been cut in pieces the size of a pea. Flavor with 1 tsp. vanilla and drop half teaspoons on a greased cookie sheet. Bake 10 to 12 minutes in 375° oven. Makes 100 cookies. 

Modern Recipe

Based on the recipe from Ruth Wakefield’s Toll House Tried and True Recipes by Ruth Wakefield (1938) and Max Miller’s version in his Tasting History video.

Ingredients:

1 cup butter

3/4 cup brown sugar

3/4 cup granulated sugar

2 beaten eggs

1 tsp baking soda, dissolved in 1 tsp hot water

1 tsp vanilla

2 1/4 cups flour

1 tsp salt

1 cup chopped nuts

14 oz. chocolate chips

Method:

Cream the butter until smooth. Mix in the brown sugar, granulated sugar, eggs, baking soda water, and vanilla until combined.

Whisk together the flour and salt. Add this to the butter mixture and mix until just combined.

Stir in the nuts and chocolate chips just until evenly distributed.

Cover and chill the dough overnight.

Preheat the oven to 375°F (190° C).

Scoop dough into balls, about 14 grams each. A half a teaspoon is way too small of a measurement, so I found weighing the dough to be the best way. Place them on lined baking sheets, leaving about 2 inches between each cookie. Press the cookie dough down a bit.

Bake for about 8 minutes, or until golden brown.

Take them out of the oven and let them cool on the baking sheet for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.

Serve them forth!

[kaisaerinlover]

nagi seishiro

tw: dubcon manipulation kinda grooming kinda incel themes

one thing about seishiro nagi is that he does not care about anything. he doesn’t want to do anything, especially not get a girlfriend. the guy was looking seriously rough until he met your brother reo. reo fixed him up a bit, and nagi definitely got more in shape after meeting reo, you could say he’s pretty hot now. but he still didn’t care for girls much. honestly he’s, in the past especially, probably what most people could have defined as an incel. but he was fine with that ‘cause he never cared about girls anyway. girls are a hassle. all he wants to do is play video games. girls don’t bother him and he doesn’t bother them. so imagine his surprise when reo’s imouto suddenly takes a random interest in him.

reo and nagi always stay at reo’s place, ‘cause it’s easier anyway, now they actually have fans and people that care, and nagi’s place isn’t really the most protected. reo is off doing something else and nagi’s playing video games in his own allocated room. he likes it, it’s good, no one to bother him, talking with people is a hassle. until you come into the picture. you’re so sweet, so cute, and he doesn’t want to be mean, you’re the younger sister of his best friend, after all. you take an interest in his game, and he indulges you, explaining to you lazily the premise of the game and granting you with the oh so lucky opportunity to sit and watch him play. and you do, you sit next to his chair on the floor and watch him play for hours. nagi grows to like you, you’re not much of a hassle at all, and you’re not too sore on the eye either. you’re actually really cute.

reo notices too, and rolls his eyes and smiles at you whenever you pester nagi. he can tell nagi doesn’t care, and he’s glad about that. but he’s curious, why is nagi even indulging you in the first place? seriously, he thinks eating is a hassle, he can’t even take care of himself most of the time, so why is he willing to entertain the youngest mikage? to put it lightly, nagi is a bit of a weirdo, reo thinks, and he takes interest in the most random of things, so maybe it’s just that. and reo doesn’t think too much of it, he should have though, not that it would matter anyway.

you’re just so cute, nagi thinks. he can’t help but actually want to have you around. and you’re so pliant, so interested in what he’s doing, poor thing. nagi coaxes you to come sit on his lap whilst he’s playing, and god does it feel good. he prays you don’t notice his hard on, but you’re so engrossed in watching him play he guesses you didn’t. but it’s still a hassle, you know. these feelings of want towards you, he’s not going to put in that much effort, seriously, that’s a lot of work, and he doesn’t have such a drive. but reo does. reo will do anything for nagi ‘cause that’s what friends are for. nagi is his treasure too, you know? not just you, imouto.

and that’s how it starts, reo essentially gifts his little sister to nagi seishiro. and the funniest part, to those two at least, is that you’re none the wiser. you don’t even notice that reo purposefully leaves you 2 alone way more often now, you don’t notice how nagi feels you up as you sit on his lap until it’s too late. you’re his now, and nii chan isn’t coming to help you ‘cause he’s the reason you’re in this mess! finding out your brother did this is a stab in the heart, it’s only after you realise what nagi is doing and you protest that he hushes you and tells you. “sh, stop squirming ‘kay? don’t be a hassle” why would you stop being a ‘hassle’? is that all this is to him? he’s touching you in places you didn’t ever let a guy touch you before, and a hassle is all it is? “n-nii chan’s gonna- b real mad at you- sei-seishiro-“ you manage to stutter out between sniffles. nagi almost laughs. almost. laughing is a hassle. “y’r nii chan is the one letting me do this” he nips at your earlobe. “you’re mine now, ‘mouto” you sob again. how could nii chan do this? and how come he’s calling you that, you’re not his imouto you’re reo’s!!!

nagi can feel his arousal, and you can feel it too, pressing against your cute little backside. “ah, look what you did” he mumbles something else about it being a hassle to take care of. but it’s fine, not anymore, cause you’re here! that’s how you find yourself sitting on the bed of your big brother’s best friend and jerking him off between sobs. honestly, nagi is getting kinda peeved at you, seriously just cut it out. he won’t treat you bad or anything? are women always this annoying, he wouldn’t know since he never had one prior to this encounter. seriously, just shut up already. he doesn’t show his annoyance though, just leans back and let’s you give him a handjob. seishiro nii is the worst for this reason, he only cares about himself!

you gasp a little in shock when he finally cums on your hand. he’s panting and a little tired, but begrudgingly gives you a pat on the head “good job, next time less crying though, angel” he likes the sight of his cum on your hand, it’s cute really, what he’s done to reo’s innocent little sister. and you just can’t believe your brother would do this to you. seriously, nii chan is mean. you thought maybe nagi was bluffing, maybe reo didn’t do this after all, so you sneak out of nagi’s room whilst he’s asleep to go and ask. all reo does is chastise you and send you back. “no ‘mouto, you gotta be a good girl for nagi, ‘kay? now go back to nagi, or do i have to take you there myself?” he’s scolding you the way a brother would his sister over a broken toy, a little tantrum, not wanting to watch the same tv show, not this?

you reluctantly trudge back to nagi’s room, where he’s laid in bed playing games on his phone. just your luck that he woke up. when you walk in the room he doesn’t even look away from the phone, just hums as if to acknowledge your presence. “don’t leave again, don’t wanna have to find you. too much hassle” he pats the bed commanding you to come and sit back down without turning away from the game. and he knows you’ll comply, because what else can you do? reo won’t help you, and you know nagi can easily overpower you if he wants to. you’re pretty stuck, aren’t you?

he’s back asleep again in no time and you’re laid awake stuck under his muscular arm. this is the first guy you talked with, reo is usually protective, it’s so intimate what you’re doing with nagi, so wrong. you’re looking up at the ceiling with blurred vision from those tears stinging at your big innocent eyes. man this sucks. but it’s okay, you’ll learn to like it, ‘cause your nii chans are gonna turn you into the perfect girl for seishiro nii! good job on getting a little sister, nagi.

sorry it’s a little short / not the best , i’m going to expand on this or come back to it definitely soon ‘cause i like this idea ty 4 readin’ if u did :3